#Animated X-rays reveal how your bones move
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joz-yyh ¡ 3 months ago
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Of Monks and Monsters - Ch. 3
SUMMARY: Role Reversal AU. Foreboding ilk lingers as a taste of this world’s machinations is revealed and two unlikely friends are unwittingly at the center of it all. No beta. Read at your own risk.
RATING: T ((gore / violence / horror))
PAIRING: Abomination x Flagellant
WORD COUNT: 2,719
READ ON Ao3: -> HERE!!
A/N: Don't y'all just love monster tails? I know I do. Also, I subconsciously chose raspberries to symbolize Damian and Bigbys budding relationship (ie: blood, kindness, love, protection) and realizing it fits them perfectly, especially with the spiritual overtones.
More characters introduced in this chapter too~
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Bigby dreams of darkness, perpetuated by haunting gray mist.
It's big, empty, almost endless, but then there's something off in the distance, teetering on the horizon.
Like salvation itself, the boy runs to it, finding that this singular landmark is a door, ornately carved, four corners of baroque figures depicting mahogany saints.
Having nowhere else to go, Bigby reaches for the knob, twisting it open, met with a blinding conflagration, burning so wildly it bursts into him, roaring, consuming all in molten flames.
The monk shoots awake, crying out, panting for breath. His surroundings are dim like his nightmare, the inferno reduced to a harmless campfire, growing faint, having burned through most of the tinder.
He puts a hand to his head, feeling damp and feverish. His dream had felt so real, he nearly forgot that it wasn't.
As his mind clears, he notices a hodgepodge of blankets draped over him, wondering where they had come from, realizing with morbid lucidity that they're clothes, articles of consequential victims, their blood long since dried.
It comes flooding back, the events of the day before. He was lost, chased, abducted.
Rays of morning light pour in where moonbeams once danced, but these glimmers of altruism only make him more chilled to the bone.
Something shifts, Bigby repelled in shock as the wechuge known as Damian reveals himself, roused by the human's startled fits of distress.
“Oh um, sorry. I just had a … bad dream. You can go back to sleep.”
What irony, that he's living in a waking nightmare right now.
The wechuge eyes him, skeptic, and Bigby feels his heart begin to hammer in his chest, staying perfectly still.
He has to watch out for the puncture of the beast’s antlers, the pendulum of spiked morning stars curated around it’s neck, but the creature insists on rubbing its bony skull against him, warbling out a strange lullaby. It’s not altogether unpleasant, odd surely, the harsh texture of honed cartilage grating against his feeble skin.
“Are you trying to comfort me,” he asks, mystified by such a thing.
Another whistling noise as the animal adjusts his position, no longer laying beside the human, but depositing it's head in the monk's lap, awaiting pets.
“Oh, well, that's really sweet.”
Bigby is hesitant, worried about pissing the creature off, unfamiliar with caring for an eldritch beast. He calls upon his experiences with any resident dog or cat, instilling the same etiquette here.
He starts between the eyes, stroking over his captor’s face, slowly, lightly, Damian hissing and nudging with curled claws, convincing the monk to apply more pressure.
They've come to an understanding, the boy finding a rhythm he likes, the suspicious sound that resembles a purr coming back to encourage him.
“Guess you're not so bad.”
Several minutes are dedicated to this bonding ritual, Bigby stuck wondering how long it will last, if he'll be playing the role of a humble servant forever. As he mulls over the tragedy of such a bleak future, the monk spies something moving out of the corner of his eye. He watches for a moment, a wagging white sprout jutting up from a hole in Damian's shaggy robes.
"What's this?"
As he so often does, Bigby acts, reaching out to touch before he's been given explicit permission.
The supernatural deity goes rigid as inquisitive fingers study the rows of vertebrae, the boy tugging on the tip to see if he could pull it out.
The beast bellows, tearing himself away as if he'd been struck, crouched defensively on all fours.
The boy means to apologize, fretting over what he had done.
"Sorry! I didn't know it was attached!"
The creature continues to fume in anger, backing up and away, keeping its delicate tail away from Bigby's prying advances.
To witness an apex predator now shrink before him, quail over such a small misunderstanding makes Bigby want to laugh.
"Is that ... could it be, you have a tail?"
A grumpy harumph, Damian clearly sensitive about this diminutive trait, confirming his assumptions.
"Aww, won't you let me see? I think it's cute."
The monk smiles, practically giggling over this newfound dynamic between them, a contrasting switch in power, slowly treading closer.
The wechuge stays his ground, summoning vines to fortify his minuscule tail, making it that much larger, something he could proudly whip around in triumph.
"Damian, you don't need to change it for me. I like it, just as it is."
The wechuge contemplates this, slowly reeling in the gnarly cage of intricate foliage to reveal the true length hidden beneath.
"There, look. It's perfect."
Bigby is within touching range now, being more considerate as he traces over the curly appendage, rubbing the hard groves with his thumb.
The wechuge has reached his threshold, swatting the religious boy's hand away, retreating to the outer ring of its den, hiding under the makeshift pile of blankets.
The monster being so self conscious about his appearance is a precious juxtaposition, the monk growing fond of such relatable hubris, feeling similarly about his own less than ideal body parts.
As adorable as this experience was, now was his chance to explore. Vaguely, he remembers the location of the entrance, the thick assembly of overgrowth providing a swift reminder.
He feels around for a way to open it, testing the strength of braided vegetation. Despite his not so gentle attempt at de-weeding this obstruction, he cannot tear it down, the sturdy roots surpassing what strength he can muster. Weakening it with fire might be the only way.
Damian pokes his head out, rag doll clothes hanging over his antlers, checking on what his housemate is doing, feeling a disturbance, a prodding at his barrier of woody tendrils.
At the sight of his human trying to leave, the animal spirit leaps out from his hiding spot, wedging himself between his flighty guest and the unconventional door.
Bigby gasps at this whirlwind change in mood, taking a trepidatious step back, hands raised in peaceful surrender.
“Sorry, but I really should be getting back.”
His explanation does nothing to persuade his host, the creature countering every step with aggression, pushing him further into the belly of his lair where he belonged.
“Or maybe I could stay a bit longer,” he sighs, dejected, his heel colliding with one of the nearby rocks, taking up residence on it like a child scorned.
The creature plays watchman, leering, seething at close proximity, this a punishment to dissuade further rebellion.
Bigby hated it when people stared at him and this was no exception. He shields his gaze, but he can still feel it penetrating his defenses, as tangible as any knife.
“What do you want from me?”
Sincerity mixed with frustration, but the horned beast just eyes him as if he said nothing at all.
“I thought we could be friends, but if you're just going to eat me, then hurry up and do it already.”
No more of this torment, let it be done, over with. He can't take it anymore.
Damian does something he doesn't expect. The tall creature saunters off, slinking into the adjacent region they ventured to yesterday, leaving Bigby by himself.
The monk is having trouble wrapping his head around the peculiar shift in behavior, of what it could mean.
After a long, silent introspection, the young boy follows after the dirt prints of cloven hooves, the network of caverns easier to navigate in the daylight hours.
Even here he finds no sign of the tall stature of his captor, looking all around the orange columns and craggy formations that intersect, knowing the creature had a knack for blending in.
“Damian? Are you here?”
Sounds of nature surround him, water running, birds trilling, but not the dreadful toll of the missing beast he seeks.
Suppose now is as good a time as any to make his escape. Damian had masked his disappearance so well, vanished into thin air. Who's to say how long he'd be gone, or if he would come back at all?
Bigby’s knee is still a bit sore, but strong enough to climb out, finding footholds in the sedimentary rock, a grip on the verdant vines that snake down.
This was just a little different than climbing the stairs to the belfry. The rock isn't as finely cut, the vines not as thick as rope tethers. One such vine nearly snaps under his weight, Bigby grasping out for more creeping plants to avoid taking a nasty tumble.
For extra security, he wraps his foot around a leafy tendril, giving himself more traction, leveraging himself up. With slow, but determined purpose, the modest monk reaches the surface.
Once there, he takes a well-earned rest, sitting atop a large rock formation, absorbing the tessellations of trees, leaves and bushes from all around.
When he’s ready, he carefully descends the trellis of the ivy-spun vines that skirt the dome he resides on, following them down to the security of solid ground.
Bigby's stomach reminds him that he hasn't eaten since yesterday, wrecking him with another loud hunger pain, having expended what energy he had.
He sets out in search of sustenance, spying the tantalizing sweetness of a raspberry patch none too far away.
His fingers can't pick fast enough to keep up with the voraciousness of his mouth, both stained scarlet with tangy fruit juice. He's nearly plucked all the blossoms clean when he hears a chastising warning growl, a sound that’s becoming all too familiar.
“Damian!”
He jumps, pressing himself flush against the ravishing spoils he devoured, confronting the jagged animal skull that invades his personal space.
The creature is angry, he can see it in the ruby marquise of his deep set eyes, the barely restrained rage that shudders his ashen limbs.
“Sorry, I uh you were gone so I came looking for you. Also, I was hungry so …”
Seems it's a believable enough excuse, the wechuge calming down at this impression of humility, Bigby too now that his nerves had settled, being spared his vengeful wrath.
“That pheasant, is it for me?”
A bundle of colorful feathers seized within the vice of stark mandibles is released, bestowing the bounty of his hunt unto the boy's feet.
“Umm thanks, but I can't eat it like this. I'll have to pluck and cook it first.”
He appreciated that this kill was much fresher than the beast's last offering of food, but he still wasn't going to eat it raw.
Burdens now free, Damian reaches out, bloody claws tracing over the contours of Bigby’s berry smeared lips.
“Oh, I am not hurt. It's just berry juice.”
He rubs the splash of color off on his sleeve, restoring his complexion to normal.
“See?”
While the boy smiles in timid reception, those claws meander, carding through onyx strands, watching it drape over spindly fingers.
“Huh, something in my hair?”
To think a mortal could possess such beauty, locks as dark as midnight, skin as warm and sweet as honey. Bonnie had chosen his pet well.
“Suppose it must be strange. You don’t have hair … Do you?”
Hesitantly, Bigby explores the crevice of the creature's nose, the substance of his skull splintered from wear, digits trailing up, a smoothness like the tide-swept flourish of seashells.
Damian goes rigid, stopping his own ministrations while the well-meaning boy continues his, touching now at the iron fetters that bind his antlers.
“These chains, they must hurt,” he says, some manner of forlorn pity consuming him, “Maybe, I could help you take them off?”
The wechuge is entirely against it, reeling with disapproval, storming away, leaving the curious human where he is.
“Hey, where are you going?”
As frantic as he sounds, the creature doesn't acknowledge him, how typical.
“After all that, you're just going to leave me out here?!”
Damian growls at him as he attempts to follow, the boy’s measurements almost at eye level when the beast walked as any quadruped would.
“I am coming back with you,” the boy huffs, undeterred by the blowhard snorts he receives.
In defiance, the wechuge increases his pace, taking the lead.
“Slow down!”
At his cry, the entity breaks out into a run, galloping like an ungulate his namesake parallels, kicking up a swirl of loose underbrush in his wake.
“I can't go that fast,” the church boy whines, his legs scurrying to catch up to such long bounding strides.
The creature stops, having gained a considerable advantage, teasing him with a poignant look behind as if he didn't know a straggler was there at his heel.
“Not funny,” Bigby shouts at him, properly miffed, carrying his limp present of poultry in hand.
It's a good thing the den wasn't that far away, the monk able to see it's commanding structure in the distance, able to find his way back whether Damian escorted him or not.
The ravenette never thought he'd be pursuing the very same creature he feared to the very same prison he sought to escape from, but it was seemingly becoming less so. Rather, it was the beginning of something new, a sapling sprouting from a seed, the meeting place of two unlikely friends.
-----
The large chamber doors open, the leper turning to confront the disturbance of his meeting room, expectant with news.
“Has he arrived yet?”
His guards stand at the entrance, the ambassador they accompany hanging his head low, solemn footsteps treading regal carpet, looking everywhere but at his liege. 
Baldwin knows how to read a room. A man of his position would have to; as well as he's able to predict the ex knight’s next words.
“Our humblest apologies, magistrate, but we suspect he's gone missing.”
‘Like the others’ is left unsaid, but it’s a rampant thought that sours and curdles the yolk of everyone's mind.
“Arrange a search party.”
“Sir,” it’s a humble objection, advising a stay of action, “we've already sent a messenger to the monastery. You will have a replacement on the morrow.”
The retired crusader is diligent, forthright, and at times, too brazen, taking initiatives without the expressed consult of his employer.
“So you have, but I only require the one called Bigby,” attests the man of authority, a swift, congruent judgment. “See that you find him post haste.”
This young monk was vital to his plans. It simply would not work with any other.
“I'll go,” volunteers the fool, an accessory of the white-cowled lord, never straying too far away from his side.
“No,” the leper asserts, irrefutable in his command, “I need you here with me.”
The jester gives a giggle, a cackle, though those in attendance miss the punchline, ignorant of what he found so funny.
“It shall be done as you say,” Reynauld declares, less than thrilled to embark upon his mission, but more adverse to Sarmenti's hysteric presence. 
He departs the same way he came in, taking the two guards with him to assist in preparations, hooded cape swiping at air, marking his caustic exit as the latch is sealed closed. 
The jester delays until silence signals that they're alone again, draping himself across the desk, clothed elbows creasing parchment, one hand twirling the tail of his liripipe.
“How disappointing,” he sighs, giving a voice to feelings that his sire would not, “Shall I entertain you until they return? I know how much you detest waiting.”
“I have other uses for you.”
A gleeful laugh to match the rattle of bells, crescent eyes upturned, “Always such a tease~” 
Baldwin's focus is reserved for the success of his goal, not to be distracted by pithy layabouts, masked eyes dedicated to the large map pinned to the wall overlooking the room. 
“So, what do you need me to do? Kill a few people? I am very good at that.”
The jester is boiling with anticipation, his sickle starving for a throat to cut, addicted to fresh streaks of blood on a cold black night. 
His superior finally regards him, Baldwin's bulk rising over his much smaller frame like a looming wave, Sarmenti shuddering as that weight presses into him, felling him onto his back. 
“I need you to procure a few items for me,” emboldens his baritone, gloved hands impressed upon the desk, flattening the fool's cap, “are you up to the task?”
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tricountyanimal ¡ 7 months ago
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Understanding Arthritis in Cats: Symptoms and Diagnosis
Arthritis is a common condition that affects many cats as they age, but it often goes unnoticed because felines are adept at hiding their pain. Understanding the symptoms and how arthritis is diagnosed is crucial for ensuring your cat receives the care they need to maintain a good quality of life.
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What is Feline Arthritis?
Arthritis in cats, also known as feline arthritis, is a degenerative joint disease that causes inflammation and pain in one or more joints. This condition can affect cats of all ages but is more prevalent in older felines. While the exact cause of arthritis in cats isn't always clear, factors such as genetics, previous injuries, and obesity can contribute to its development.
Symptoms of Arthritis in Cats
Cats with arthritis may exhibit a range of symptoms, often subtle and easily overlooked. Here are some common signs to watch for:
Decreased Activity: Cats with arthritis may be less willing to jump, climb stairs, or play. You might notice your feline friend sleeping more and avoiding previously enjoyed activities.
Limping or Stiffness: A cat with arthritis might limp or show stiffness, especially after resting. This stiffness can be more noticeable in the mornings or after naps.
Difficulty Grooming: Felines with arthritis might have trouble grooming themselves, leading to a matted or unkempt coat. They may also have overgrown claws if they avoid scratching posts.
Behavioral Changes: Changes in behavior, such as irritability or aggression when touched, can indicate pain. Cats may also hide more frequently to avoid movement or interaction.
Litter Box Issues: A cat with arthritis might struggle to get in and out of the litter box, leading to accidents outside the box.
Muscle Loss: Over time, cats with arthritis may lose muscle mass, especially in their hind legs, due to decreased activity.
Diagnosing Feline Arthritis
Diagnosing arthritis in cats involves a combination of a thorough physical examination, medical history, and diagnostic tests. Here’s how veterinarians typically approach the diagnosis:
Medical History: Your vet will ask about your cat’s medical history, including any past injuries, surgeries, or changes in behavior and activity levels.
Physical Examination: During a physical exam, the veterinarian will palpate your cat’s joints, looking for swelling, pain, or reduced range of motion. They will also observe how your cat moves and behaves.
X-rays: Radiographs (X-rays) are a valuable tool in diagnosing arthritis. X-rays can reveal changes in the joint structure, such as narrowing of the joint space, bone spurs, and other abnormalities indicative of arthritis.
Advanced Imaging: In some cases, advanced imaging techniques like MRI or CT scans may be recommended to get a more detailed view of the affected joints.
Joint Fluid Analysis: Analyzing the fluid within the joints can help rule out other conditions that may cause similar symptoms, such as infections or autoimmune diseases.
Treatment and Management for Felines with Arthritis
While there is no cure for arthritis in cats, several treatment options can help manage the condition and improve your cat’s quality of life:
Medications: Pain relievers and anti-inflammatory medications can reduce discomfort. Always use medications prescribed by your veterinarian, as human medications can be toxic to cats.
Diet and Supplements: Joint supplements containing glucosamine and chondroitin can support joint health. Your vet may also recommend a special diet to help manage your cat’s weight and reduce stress on the joints.
Environmental Modifications: Making your home more accessible can greatly benefit a cat with arthritis. Provide ramps or steps to favorite resting spots, use low-sided litter boxes, and ensure easy access to food and water.
Regular Veterinary Check-Ups: Regular check-ups at a trusted veterinary clinic, such as Tri-County Animal Hospital, are essential to monitor your cat’s condition and adjust treatment plans as needed.
Physical Therapy and Exercise: Gentle exercises and physical therapy can help maintain joint flexibility and muscle strength. Your vet can guide safe and effective exercises for your cat.
Conclusion
Recognizing the symptoms of arthritis in cats and seeking a proper diagnosis is crucial for managing this condition. By staying observant and working closely with your veterinarian, such as the team at Tri-County Animal Hospital, you can ensure your cat receives the best possible care and continues to live a comfortable life despite arthritis. If you suspect your cat may have arthritis, don’t hesitate to schedule a veterinary appointment to discuss your concerns and explore treatment options.
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kechiwrites ¡ 4 years ago
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spit or swallow
Dentist!Eijirou Kirishima x Patient!Reader
wc: 1.5k
“he works diligently above you, latex gloved hands occasionally brushing your nose, jaw and throat. He’s nothing less than gentle with you, angling your face where he needs it with feather soft touches and honey smooth direction.”
warnings: afab reader, fantasizing about your dentist, a lil bit of praise kink, biting, oral sex, size kink if you squint, swearing, dick slapping but like make it tender, we’re light on warnings today y’all, 18+ 
author’s notes: kirishima....thank u to my lovely betas @lady-bakuhoe​ and @rivendell101​ yes i kept the arm hair thing in, im a simp ♡.
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There is absolutely nothing sexy about being a dentist. The visual of Dr. Kirishima up to his elbows in spit and god know what else is hardly erotic. But there’s very little you can do to stop the shivers that tingle down your spine at the sight of his bare forearms, revealed to you by the careful and precise folding of his doctor’s coat, dusted with fine black hair and corded with muscle when they reach over your face to adjust the light or peer at your x-rays. Your tongue is still thick and sweet in your mouth from the liquid he'd given to you in a little blue cup. The taste was just barely spearmint and you wish you could chase it with the sharp tang of his sweat. You wish you could wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down to you, bite and kiss and suck at the skin under his jaw you're becoming so familiar with. You want to create a flush so deep you find it blooming over his skin when you undo the little white plastic buttons of his dress shirt.
While you're musing, he works diligently above you, latex gloved hands occasionally brushing your nose, jaw and throat. He’s nothing less than gentle with you, angling your face where he needs it with feather soft touches and honey smooth direction. You get the distinct impression he’s a mellow guy, tossing easy smiles to anyone who meets his eye and he certainly doesn’t seem very intimidating. Even still, you can't help but think about the stretch. There's not a doubt in your mind that Eijirou Kirishima D.D.S. is packing like he's on a two month vacation. His shoulders are impossibly broad and when he escorted you through the bleach white hallway all you could think of was letting him loom over you and drag the heavy weight of his weeping cock up and down the plush skin of your face. You wish he would push past the softness of your lips and urge your head further and further down his length until the tip of his dick touches your fucking brain. You want him to spread your pussy open between latex covered thumbs and bury his tongue in you, let his unnervingly sharp teeth catch the hood of your clit.
You want him to hurt you.
You’re lost in the visual of his hands around your throat when he calls your name, trying to get you to angle your chin just a bit further downward. When you finally comply, he whispers “Good girl” and it takes every single bit of your self restraint to stop yourself from whimpering at the image the phrase conjures. You screw your eyes shut and behind your lids, Dr. Kirishima is holding you against the padded chair by the back of your neck, sinking his teeth into the exposed skin of your shoulder, hip, thigh, leaving aching, perfect half circles in their wake. He keeps you in place with one hand, and presses his cock against the throbbing heat of your cunt, not quite hard enough to enter, not yet. Instead he’s content to tease you into begging for it. And you do, you pant out platitudes and pleas for more until he blankets your body with his own, weighing you down as he pushes into you, fucking deeper and deeper until your slick covers both of your thighs. He fucks you with four fingers in your mouth, pushing down on your tongue while he calls you his favourite patient. His perfect patient.
“Am I hurting you?” You open your eyes in an instant, and the dentist is hovering above you, eyebrows furrowed with concern. You aren’t even sure how long your eyes have been closed, but the light overhead stings a bit and you blink owlishly before speaking.
I fucking wish.
“No, no I’m fine.” You steeple your hands together in your lap and try to shake off the reverie.
“Great, well we’re all done here,” he pulls his mask down to hang around his neck and blinds you with a beaming smile, before you can even feel guilty, the dentist spins around in his bone white office chair, rummaging in a shelf before coming back to you, with two closed fists held up for your choosing.
“Pick one.” When you can only respond with a confused tilt of the head he explains, “A treat for my favourite patient. I know you aren’t exactly lollipop age but…” Dr. Kirishima continues to speak but the sound of his voice is drowned out by the roaring in your ears. You interrupt him mid-sentence and tap your hand against his left and he opens his wide palm with a flourish to reveal a bright yellow sugar free wrapped candy and a packet of floss with a smiley little cartoon tooth emblazoned on the front.
You aren’t quite sure how, but you know it’s mocking you.
You take the gifts from his hand, trying hard to ignore the feeling of your fingertips dragging against his open palm. There’s maybe one hundred filthy thoughts slamming against the walls of your skull produced by the feel of his skin against yours, and honestly you’re just thankful they’re not readable in your eyes or pouring out of your fucking ears. You clear your throat and do your best to smile at Dr. Kirishima, swivelling in the dentist chair to place your feet back on the ground once he scoots back enough for you to stand. You gather your bag and coat while he rattles off what you need to remember; “easy on the sugar, red wine and coffee, brush twice a day, floss as often as you can, etc.” With the dentist now out of your immediate line of sight you can force yourself to calm down. Your heart rate finally returns to a steady pulse in your chest and a centering deep breath brings you back down the rest of the way. While you shove your hands into your coat pockets to check that your essentials are all accounted for, you can hear Dr. Kirishima quietly issue directions to the waiting dental assistant in the hallway. Finally back in your right mind, you turn with your things in hand to thank your dentist, half relieved and half disappointed to be leaving his close quarters, only to slam bodily into the hard planes of his chest beneath his thin dress shirt.
You stumble backwards and it’s the quick movement of Dr. Kirishima’s hands (one cemented around your forearm and the other on your hip) that stops you from colliding with his tray of instruments.
“Are you alright?” He questions you, palms iron hot against your skin, even through your clothes. His voice is just a bit too loud for how close you are to each other, and you shift backwards in his hold to look into his eyes. In the shuffle, you’d pressed both of your, embarrassingly, sweaty hands against his shoulders, one of them fisted tightly in the lapel of his doctor’s coat. Still, even as you blabber assurances to him looming above you, neither of you move to let go, opting instead to remain stock still, as though the slightest disruption could make your position any more inappropriate than it already was.
Kirishima’s hand tightens on your hip just the tiniest bit and when he opens his mouth to speak to you, your gaze focuses on the exceptionally vicious point of his canines. You force yourself to meet his eyes again, just fast enough to catch him staring at your lips, parted in surprise at the collision.
Slowly, as if approaching a frightened animal, Kirishima draws closer to you, and for a second you think he’ll kiss you, but instead his cheek brushes over yours, lips meeting the curve of your ear, warm breath rushing against your skin, eliciting full body shivers. The grip you have on his shirt turns to iron and you urge him closer, narrowing the minimal space between you until your chest is pressed so firmly against his.
“I-”
Whatever he was going to say is cut short by the sound of the office door swinging open, heralding the dental assistant’s return. Thankfully, Kirishima’s assistant has their eyes on their clipboard, addressing you by your last name and rattling off the best date for your next cleaning. While their attention is split you force space between yourself and the man holding you. When they do finally raise their eyes, looking for confirmation, you bob your head in agreement, hoping to god they’d give you a form, or receipt or anything to remind you of the details currently being divulged only to be drowned out by the thud of your own heartbeat.
“I’d actually like for her to come in earlier, if possible, we didn’t get the chance to do a polishing today.”
Both you and the assistant blink at the doctor, and slowly his cheeks redden under your stare.
“If that’s alright with you?” He coughs, folding his arms over his chest.
It takes you a second to understand what’s going on but when you do, it snaps your willpower in half.
“Next week then! I’ve got time, if you do.” You reply and Dr. Kirishima’s answering smile is blinding in the best way.
“Sounds perfect.”
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moonlightwritesdisney ¡ 4 years ago
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DREAM COME TRUE. -- WYATT LYKENSEN.
Paring: Wyatt Lykensen X FEMALE! READER
Requested: Yes / No
Warnings: foul language. nudity. graphic descriptions of blood and cannibalism. sexual activity. 
Summary: Weeks after your old elementary friend had finally vanished from all existence everything seems to finally go back to normal. Standing in a coffee shop you met him. And all hell breaks loose.
SEQUEL TO ‘YOU’.
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PREVIOUSLY . . .
You were fashioned in the bathroom taking a warm cloth and bringing it towards your face wiping off the dried blood. You sucked in a breathe the sound of your beating heart filling your ears. You didn’t feel at all ashamed for what you had done. That bastard human deserved it.
The overbearing of your anxiety flared, you were worried you might get in huge trouble, since unfortunately, the human is never to blame. You had gone to bed that night in hopes for a better day the next morning -- the only problem was, he saw everything. 
THE DIRT BELOW HIS BROWN BOOTS became sore while he had previously been peering into your small window for the past five minutes watching you. Your brown pale skin covered in the blood that wasn’t your own. Your face dry and lips cracked from the crying you had done, you felt numb. Your heat besting rapidly in anxiety.
The mirror reflected your bruised image. The bags under your eyes were a dark purple, your eyes a dark brown with widened pupils ( a side effect of a broken Z-band which usually wears off after twelve hours ). Your sink water turned a bright pink as the last of his blood washed down the drain. Disappearing into the drain pipes.
Your mascara smeared down your cheeks, your nose and cheeks red and your eyes puffy. ‘Your going to kill him’. A selfish voice spat in his head, his sharp claws dug into the untouched flesh of his tan palm. He was furious.
How could someone so shameful have the power of destroying someone who was so innocent? She was a ray of pure sunshine. His sunshine. The pondering question he already knew the answer to racked the Alpha wolf’s brain. He couldn’t understand it.
You were so innocent. Baby like. His baby. He felt guilt.
A page pant of sadness washed over him. He had wished it was him, who could comfort you from what had just happened. ‘Shh baby it’s okay I’m here now, your safe, completely safe, I won’t let anyone ever harm you again, ever, never again. I am so sorry.
So sorry. So sorry.’ He had imagined you sobbing desperately in his chest the ache of your body he felt against his own skin, he’d stroke your arm softly and whisper sweet nothing in your ear.
He’d reassure you constantly, be their for you when having to deal with the gained trauma even after the act. He’d give you anything you needed. Leave you loving encouraging notes in your belongings. Hold you every night as you slept. Lock every door and window in the house.
He’d lay bare with you in bed for hours just to make sure his babygirl was okay. Although he couldn’t help blame himself. He knew that he couldn’t just burst into your house and save you from your attacker, even after the matter.
‘oh uhm yeah, I’ve totally been watching you for months, that includes changing, and showering, and well... pleasing yourself too.
I’ve seen it all, and uhm I’m kinda in love with you too so I mean that’s a plus, uhm I know literally everything about you, how you are very persistent in organization and you hate cheesy romantic comedies.
How you’d just want to stay up until three a.m. reading a book about truce crime. How you can girl over the most underrated music artists and how you hate a guy that plays dumb in the most basic way. I know you absolutely hate roses anything I’m missing?’
He chuckled at the image of you stunned. He knew more about you than you knew yourself. How you’d jump into his arms, the feeling of your skin against his. Your soft lips brushing against his neck. He’d want it all.
That would immensely creep you out. His intention would to never make you uncomfortable. So the pain only grew worse. Not being able to call you by your name. Hold you. Take in the surreal beauty that was Y/N.
His white fangs pressed against his bottom teeth. His blood boiled to the brim. He wanted to make that disgusting human pay for what he did. His stomach twirled in mixed emotion.
He so badly wanted to hold you in his chest and comfort you, but some things have complicated consequences.
In the low midst of the night he kept a sharp eye on the human who groggily made his way down the deserted dirt road, stalking the weak being beneath the depths of the dark forest.
Small boots could be heard from miles stretched along the black canvas of the open air, the human male scanning his surroundings for some place to rest or.. a possible shortcut that could lead him home.
Wyatt licked his dry lips breathing out slowly watching the human stand in the clearing with curiosity. ‘Kill him’. ‘He deserves to suffer for what he did’. ‘Y/N’. ‘Think of Y/N’. ‘Gut him’.
The imploding thoughts trying to take control of him. His pupils shrunk and turned a bright yellow his fangs grew from the K-9’s in his mouth. He breathed heavily and beast like trying to regain his composure. Sure, he thought of you.
How you would’ve told him ‘this is dangerous and could get you caught by wolf patrol don’t’. But, the monster side of her would’ve agreed with him. Could’ve given into the impulses.
Could’ve joined in on the eccentric thrill of gutting a human to their bones watching as blood came spitting out of their body, falling limp to the ground and squirming like a dead rabbit, until their last breath leaves the closure of their lungs.
But he bit down on the inside of his cheek hard and shoved the impulsive thoughts aside. He caught attention of the human stepping through the clearing, Wyatt swiftly disappeared behind a tree. (Thank his wolf stealth.)
He watching closely behind the large oak as the midnight sky lit up with thousands of glowing stars the bright moon floating still. His feet crunched under the small wood chips and loose dirt, which made Wyatt’s right ear twitch occasionally. 
The human was lost, he had reached up to a large clearing in the middle of the forest ‘maybe this will be a quicker way home’. He thought to himself as he squeezed his way through the thick pine trees that scratched his face and dark leather. Little did he know he wouldn’t be going home.
An owl called in the distance alarming the human. Shrugging it off he walked a few more feet bonfire stopping in the middle of the clearing an eerie feeling began to set it and shake throughout his body. Wyatt quickly ran behind the large oak tree causing the bushes to rustle.
The human quickly threw his head around to the source of the sound, Wyatt felt his heart pace quickly , quicker as each second passed.
The moonstone laid on Wyatt’s chest grew a bright blue his sharp K-9s’ growing to a slick point and his eyes glowing a bright deeming yellow.
A low growl erupted from his stomach the animalistic nature taking grasp of his human side. The human caught sight of a dark shadow peeking out from behind the tree. He bolted the other direction.
His breathing paced as his nimble legs carried him the south west end of the dark dreary forest. Mud crushed under his boots his lungs burning and heaving out of exhaustion. Wyatt was faster. He dodged past trees and bushes running at almost fifty miles.
His leg got caught on a sharp tree ranch nearby he knew that whatever was out to kill him was going to make it quick. He was scared. He pulled with force which caused the branch to cut into the soft flesh of his leg, blood seeped through the blue denim and into Wyatt’s nostrils.
Jumping over large rocks and the bushes he caught up to the human quickly grabbing him by his jacket he pushed to human to the ground and used the force of his arms to hold him in a pin.
The human breathed heavily his eyes widened in fear “please .... don’t hurt me”. He spoke weak like it was an excuse to let him go. Wyatt’s eyes glowed his lips formed a deep snarl.
“Let you go? And what, you continue raping other innocent women”. He whispered a deeply distorted voice replacing Wyatt’s usual calm manner. The monster had completely taken over. The human whimpered and squirmed like a dead animal.
A scream left the human’s mouth and soared above the trees as Wyatt bite deeply into the salty flesh. The blood was warm a large chunk of his skin hung off of Wyatt’s mouth before he spit it out discarding it.
The human grunted and moaned in pain shooting out lines of foul words. Wyatt smirked as he straddled the humans hips in place allowing him to not move.
In panic the human began to wail his arms, the young wolf felt his heart erupt in his chest. The watched as the human wailed in half death, he felt evincible.
The blood squirted and poured out of the human’s uncared wound. The blood tasted sweet in his mouth, a true delicacy.
About fifteen minutes after he threw the discarded bones into a six feet deep ditch he had dug after killing the human.
His mouth, arms, and clothes all drenched in the human’s bodily fluids and chunks of his flesh on his chest.
He smelt foul. He knew he did. He wanted to make sure you were okay but couldn’t come to you smelling like this.
He had walked the path he knew like the back of his hand spotting the small watering hole, he stood at the shore of the small lake the moon glowing brightly over him.
Taking off his fur coat he stripped himself of his purple hoodie before slowly bringing up his white tank top over his head revealing his broad v line, toned abs and chest stained with blood.
Unclasping his jeans he slide them down towards his knees kicking off his boots and white socks. Then came his boxers.
He engulfed himself in the lake slowly, it was freezing cold but was used to it. The water has risen up to the middle of his waist, he began to vigorously rub off the dried blood splashing cold water in his face and arms.
Dipping himself under the cold lake he rushed up and breathed out coughing. Moving his wet hair out of his face he caught sight of a dark shadowed figure that stood at the shore. He could’ve sworn it was you. Your pale skin glimmered beautifully under the moonlight.
He didn’t move a muscle, yet he waited to see what your next intention was. A robe you were wearing slowly feel to the ground as you now stood naked your gaze kept on his, you slowly entered the water.
Your figure made your way through the cold water, his eyes never leaving yours he was absolutely stunned. This had to be surreal.
Your hips moved in the water causing ripples to shift outwards, your brown eyes fluttered innocently. He stood in front of you awestricken, you were gorgeous.
He was scared that maybe if he had made one wrong move you’d leave, so there he stood motionless waiting for you to respond.
You were now in front of him, your naked glory he kept his eyes on you out of full curiosity. Your face inches away from his you guided his hands towards your side his warm arms wrapped securely around your waist.
The tension was lingering, his heart was pacing at an irregular pace questions swirling around in his mind but nonetheless, he wouldn’t change a thing.
The two of your lips met in pure bliss, moving in synchronization your fingernails traveling up the back of his neck and into his soft curls his hands gripping your hips lightly not wanting to hurt you without permission.
His lips trailed from your jaw and to your neck where he softly bite and sucked gaining small moans from you in response.
Heavy breathing and moans began to fall from your lips as he held you in his arms his nails digging into the sides of your hips causing you to squirm, the fingers of his right hand gently sliding over your folds.
Unfortunately for Wyatt, he awoke in a panic, his head was spinning and he was covered in blood. His brown eyes scanned his surroundings, the green trees a dim green and the woods ground wet and sloshy from the rain the night before.
It was a dream.
Fuck. It was a dream.
Shivers shot down his spine and throughout his body as he remembered the horny dream he had. God he wished it where real. He observed his clothing. He was drenched in blood. His whole body.
He pondered to himself in confusion then it clicked. After killing the human he had retreated back to the clearing and fell asleep after ... Waking up he knew aside from the perks of his wolf powers one downside was that wolves couldn’t remember events that happen after they detach from their human form.
He licked his chapped numb lips while his ears perked up, sirens could be heard from miles away, holy shit. The police had found his body. Quickly, he stood up and ran left towards large similar oaks trees, lucky for him he knew the woods so it was easy for him. 
Suddenly while his head was turned behind him making sure he wasn’t seen he quickly looked forward and collided with anther body a loud grunt slipped passed his lips as he fell on the hard soil, groaning. 
290 notes ¡ View notes
roanniom ¡ 4 years ago
Note
hi pal can I request the reader showing sackler how to take things a little more slow and sensual in the bedroom (possibly ft some sub!sackler bc yum) dialogue line: 'easy tiger'
Hey buddy, yes – let’s teach our cutie sub!Sackler a lesson. (p.s., sorry to you and everyone else who requested stuff - I’m getting around to all of these, I swear lol)
Sweet
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Adam Sackler x Reader
Word Count: 4,291
Warnings: NSFW, dirty talk, mutual masturbation, PIV sex, light light light dom/sub, mentions of food, shitty day angst
You love riding Sackler. It’s a fact and you aren’t shy about it. The way he feels beneath you – hard and wound out so tight, just a second from breaking – makes you feel like a goddess. You love messing with him and bossing him around, too. The way his eyes widen and his lip quivers as he thinks up a taunting reply or considers the reward that might come if he is good and acquiesces instead. You love rewarding and punishing him equally.
Sackler takes punishment better than any man you’d ever been with. While most men play along for a while, it’s been your experience that many tire eventually. Not Sackler. Sure, he’s a brat about it, but that’s exactly what you love. How receptive he is. No matter what you do, your Sackler reacts and it makes your heart and pussy clench in equal measure.
But every once in a while, riding Sackler isn’t what you’re in the mood for. Today is one of those days. It’s been a long one, full of meetings and paperwork and all the things that make your teeth set on edge by the time you climb up from the subway, up from the street, and up to your fifth floor walkup. When you reach the knob to open the door, it turns in your hand and moves inward without any effort on your part. The door pulls back to reveal Adam, standing with a huge grin on his face and a steaming mug which is promptly pushed into your free hand.
“Fucking finally! I’ve been waiting for you to get home.” A kiss is pressed hurriedly to your lips and your bags are pulled off of your shoulders. The whirlwind of motion and activity almost make you dizzy and you laugh. Despite your shit day and despite yourself.
“What’s all this?” you ask, gesturing the scene that his wall of a body, now moved aside to stow your bags, has revealed. The table is set for two, with flowers and a fucking lit candle in the center. Two stemmed glasses sit beside a sweating bottle of sparkling grape juice. Adam steps back into view, his grin even wider.
“Ray and I were fucking around at the café and I came across this recipe in a magazine -” he begins, but you cut him off.
“I can’t picture you flipping through a magazine.” He flips you off and continues.
“Well anyway, Ray said it was too delicate and I’d never be able to make it because I’m a fucking ox in a china shop and I was like the saying is ‘bull in a china shop you dickweed’ and then we wrestled a bit and scared his customers away which was pretty fucking hilarious -”
You grab Sackler’s chin to stop his manic rambling.
“The food, Sackler.”
“Well I was getting to that! So I said fuck you, ripped the recipe out, went to the store, and now nine hours and three cut fingers later we have this fucking feast!”
Sackler claps his hands together before gesturing grandly to the table. With the gesticulation you’re able to see the three aforementioned fingers swathed in shoddily placed bandages. You grab his non-damaged hand and lift up on your tiptoes. He gets the message, bending down to press his lips to yours again. He closes his eyes to savor the kiss, but as you back away yours dart over his figure and you let out another laugh.
“Sackler, is that my apron?”
~*~
It turns out bulls in china shops can, indeed, cook delicate dishes. The food is really good. Annoyingly good. Proving again, for the umpteenth time, that your tornado of a boyfriend can be good at things when he focuses all of his boundless energy on one thing.
“You shouldn’t have done this, you know.” You smile at him over the rim of your glass of sparkling juice, the remains of your meal littering the table before you. Sackler watches you, full and self-satisfied, shaking his head.
“What do you mean?”
“I’m never going to accept a shitty takeout meal again now that you’ve fed me this well.”
Sackler sits up straighter and leans over, reaching his hand between your thighs. Your legs open instinctively, without any effort from your brain, but as you lurch forward and metal scrapes against wood, you realize he’s grabbed your chair and is pulling you closer to him.
“It was really that good, wasn’t it.” His smile is ear to ear. You laugh at his smugness.
“Do I need to lick my plate to convince you? Because I will.” You drag a finger through the last bit of sauce on your plate and move to bring it to your mouth. Before you can, however, Adam grabs your wrist and reroutes it to his mouth. His lips close over your finger, tongue lapping up the sauce before it can drip down into your palm. He maintains direct, blazing eye contact the entire time and your stomach swoops. After a moment a sucking, Adam releases your finger with a pop, biting the tip playfully before dropping your hand back to your lap.
“Fuck I’m talented.”
The chuckle you release is a tad too breathless for your liking. It really has been a hard day, and Adam’s attention is getting to you quicker and more than usual. He can see it in your eyes and in the incremental quickening of the rise and fall of your chest.
“Yep. You’re fucking talented,” is all you’re able to muster, biting your lip.
The large hand that had pulled you closer to him has spent this whole time gripping your chair in the space between your legs. Now it slides to smooth over your thigh. His hand is hot enough you can feel the heat radiating beneath your pants. Despite the warmth you shiver.
Adam notices and pulls back his hand so that only his index finger remains in contact with your leg. His index finger which he drags up your inner thigh only to run it up and down the line of the pants seam at the apex of your thighs.
“A little needy tonight, are we babe?”
This is exactly what you need to loosen up so you grab his wrist. He stiffens immediately, assuming he’s done something wrong. But instead you pull him closer to close his whole hand around your clothed cunt, pushing up and down on his hand to provide a wider surface area of warmth and friction.
“A lot needy tonight…babe,” you correct him.
~*~
When you migrate to the bedroom, Sackler is on you like an animal. This is his usual modus operandi – he does everything he possibly can to trigger your reprimands, your slaps, your warnings. It’s partly to see what he can get away with before you tighten the leash (metaphorical but sometimes literal) and partly because seeing you riled up turns him on so much.
Right now he’s got you bent over the bed, cheek smashed to the mattress, legs spread, ass out, as he grips and pinches and squeezes the curves of your body.
“I’ve been thinking of you all fuuuhhking day, baby.” His voice is gruff to go along with the handfuls he grabs of your ass.
“I thought you were thinking about food all day,” you manage to tease, despite the fact that his hands feel like heaven.
“Yeah but like when I went shopping for example.” He flips you over then and you squeal in surprise. Your back hits the bed but your legs remain dangling off. Adam steps between them and drops the weight of his whole upper body on you, effectively smothering you. “I just kept wishing you were there with me.”
Your stomach flips and your heart flutters, not expecting that sweet a statement. You also register your cunt getting wetter.
Oh.
So that’s the mood you’re in.
“You wished I was there?” you ask quietly.
“Of course,” Adam replies, tucking some of your hair gently behind your ear. “I imagined fucking you up against the inside of the freezer section so we could leave obscene handprints on the doors and freak people out.”
You whack him in the head in response, which is exactly what he’s going for. He picks you up and throws you unceremoniously more fully on the bed before climbing on as well and crawling up the length of your body.
“You’re an asshole, Adam.”
“I thought that was your favorite part about me.” He waggles his eyebrows at you. Out of spite – and lust – you reach between you and grab his dick through his jeans.
“No, this is my favorite part about you.”
Adam throws his body to the side, locking his arms around you in a roll that roughly brings you to rest on his chest while his back hits the bed.
“Now you’re talking, baby.” His mouth latches hungrily to your neck and his hands take forceful hold of your breasts. Beneath you Sackler begins rolling his hips, thrusting his hardening cock up into your pelvic area.
The aggression and the friction feel good, you can’t lie. But you can’t ignore the nagging feeling of disappointment lingering right at the corner of your mind.
“Adam,” you prompt. He doesn’t pause in his ministrations. He’s still playing the game. At this point you’re usually just getting started and, being the brat he is, he never actually listens to you this early. It would ruin his fun. No, instead Adam continues to nibble at your collar bone and untuck your shirt.
“Adam – slow down, please.”
The please comes out muffled because it occurs right as he tries to pull your shirt over your head, effectively covering your face.
“Are you trying to say something?” Adam asks with a chuckle, purposefully keeping the shirt tangled up in your arms and swathed over your head. “I can’t hear you.”
You wrestle your way out of his grip and the shirt straight jacket he’d fashioned, irritated but unable to suppress your own laugh.
“That’s not funny, asshole.”
“Again with the asshole.” Adam rises up to a sitting position with you still straddling him, moving to place soft kisses on your now-exposed chest. “Might I point out that you are laughing. I would argue that means it is funny.”
Adam deftly unhooks your bra and continues to drop open mouth kisses on a path that leads him up your throat. His softer actions cause you to roll your hips lightly, your eyes closing with the mounting satisfaction.
“Mmm haven’t I already taught you that you shouldn’t argue with me? You’ll never win,” you reply quietly, tone of voice matching the softness and heat that’s building between your bodies.
In quite a juxtaposition, Sackler growls and bucks roughly up into you, a motion you’re not prepared for and one which throws you off balance.
“We’ll see who wins, baby.” His mouth descends on you and it’s like he’s trying to suck your very soul between his lips. Like he wants to swallow you whole and usually? Usually this kind of thing would rev your engine and make you want to fight for control. But today your body is craving something different.
And you’re not about to deny it what it wants.
You press your palms down on Sackler’s chest, pushing down and pulling back with enough pressure that he finally releases your lips. His chest heaves up and down and he moves to kiss you elsewhere but you grab his jaw.
“Easy tiger. Easy.” Your fingers curl down and around his throat delicately. You’re not squeezing and you’re not gripping, but his eyes are wide and fixed on you. You hold him down with your gaze as much as your hand and, without breaking eye contact, you lower yourself slowly, slowly, slowly, to press a kiss to his flushed lips.
“We’re going to take things slower tonight.”
“Slower? But why!” Sackler moves to sit up again, but you push him back down, this time more firmly.
“Because I say so,” you answer bluntly. Sackler goes to talk back, defiance dancing in his eyes, but you speak up before he can interject.
“Because I need this.”
Your assertive tone comes out less firm and more genuine this time, allowing some of your vulnerability leak through despite your intentions. You watch Adam react, however, and you’re pleased to see his eyes soften.
“What do you want me to do, baby? Tell me.”
You mull this over from your perch above him, straddling his hips and looking down at his still clothed body. Swinging your leg up and over, you dismount him, much to Adam’s displeasure, as expressed with a groan. You, however, stand resolutely at the side of the bed and fold your arms.
“I’d like you to get up and take every piece of clothing off – slowly.”
“You mean like a strip tease?” he asks with a crooked grin, lumbering off the bed. You hop back on and settle down so that your back is now reclining against the pillows comfortably.
“You don’t have to make it sound so crass but sure. Like a strip tease.”
Adam takes a cheesy bow before pulling his shirt of by the back collar.
“Woah woah woah, I said slowly, mister.”
Adam huffs in agitation but does as you ask, dropping the collar and lifting the front hem of his shirt inch by inch, slowly exposing the abdominal muscles which, let’s face it, make you want to drool. You eye him like a piece of meat and without a trace of shame as he finally discards the garment.
“I hope you’re enjoying this,” he grumbles, but you see the amusement in his eyes.
“Oh I am, baby. Trust me.”
The show continues until his boxers ultimately join the pile that has accumulated at his feet. The slow clap you give him as you eye his stiff cock makes him let out a strained laugh.
“Now you,” he says through gritted teeth. You can tell he wants to stroke his cock, but you haven’t told him he can yet. And since you’ve changed the game on him, he feels less comfortable bending the rules.
“Can you come over and take my clothes off for me?” you ask through hooded eyes. He clambers onto the bed and you touch his shoulder as a reminder. “Slowly.”
Adam nods and reaches to unbutton your pants before pulling them slowly down your legs, hooking his fingers beneath your panties to bring them along, too. Having already been divested of your shirt and bra, the job is short and sweet.
You crook your finger in a come hither motion toward him, ushering him to move up to you, which he does. You settle deeper down into the pillows and he hovers above you, uncertain.
“What now?”
You pull him down by the back of the neck into a kiss. Your tongue encourages his to move, which it does. He takes his cues from you and the kiss morphs from sweet to sensual. When a strangled groan bubbles in the back of his throat you push him to sit up in order to bring things back down to the pace you’d worked so hard to establish.
“Now, I’d like you to drag two fingers through my cunt. Get them nice and wet.”
Adam inhales sharply and moves his arm quickly at first before catching himself and bringing his hand calmly between your legs. You let them fall open and sigh happily at the feeling of his fingers running up and down your dripping slit.
“You’re so wet and we’ve barely done anything,” Adam comments, awed.
“That’s how bad I want you like this.”
“Baby…” Adam practically whines. You can see his muscles tensing as his patience wears thinner.
“I know, honey,” you purr. “Now I want you to take your hand and stroke your big, fat cock for me.”
Adam inhales sharply again, but he doesn’t forget this time. This time his hand drags slowly from your cunt, trailing your slick over your thigh and up onto his in a path to his own cock, which he smears with the remaining juice.
“Oh fuck, I can’t take it slow for much longer.”
“Yes. You can.” You tease your own nipple now as you watch Adam’s hand close around the glistening, throbbing head. His muscles ripple beneath the skin of his abdomen and your cunt clenches.
“I saw that.”
Your wrench your eyes away from his cock to meet his eyes.
“Saw what?”
“Saw your little pussy squeeze around nothing.”
“Yes, it did.” You’re not about to deny it. Instead, you move the hand not playing with your nipple so that it comes to rest on your mound, fingers dipping down to feel your own wetness.
“Holy shit.”
His cock twitches in his hand and he comes to lean lower over you, bracing himself with one hand against the mattress next to your body as he picks up the pace on his cock. The shuck shuck shuck sound of his fist passing over his length makes your breath quicken and you push two fingers inside you, placing your thumb on your clit and beginning a rhythm of tight circles.
“Oh god, do you hear that?” Adam moans as your cunt begins making squelching sounds with your efforts. “That’s your little pussy telling me it needs me.”
“Mmm it talks to you?” you ask, trying not to think of how ridiculous this is and lose your concentration too much.
“Yes. It’s saying your fingers are two fucking small. It needs to be stuffed. With my fingers, with my cock -”
“Adam.” You interrupt him abruptly by grabbing the back of his neck and forcing him to look you in the eyes. He zips up and waits for you to say something but you don’t. Instead you maintain the eye contact and continue move your fingers in and out of your cunt. Though you won’t agree with him right now, Adam’s right. Your fingers are too small. But the in and out motion, combined with the pressure you are putting on your clit, combined with the way the bed shakes with the effort Adam is taking to jerk himself slowly but strongly, combined with the way he is now devouring you with his eyes – it all still feels pretty fucking good.
Adam’s breath becomes more ragged and the sound makes you let out an involuntary moan. Fuck you love hearing him react. You decide you might as well let him know. It’s already the tone of the evening.
“I love hearing you.”
“I was just about to say the fucking same about you. You’re the one who just moaned, though,” Adam says, letting out a breathless chuckle.
“Yeah but I like it all. I like when your breathing is all ragged like right now. I love it when you groan and growl. When you moan and it sounds like it’s coming from deep inside of you.”
“Fuck, baby,” he grunts, and you laugh.
“I like it when you curse, too. I love that filth spills from your brain and you don’t bother – oh! You don’t bother stopping it from falling out of your mouth.”
“You’re the inspiration for the filth, kid, I can’t take all the credit.”
You feel your heart stutter in your chest then and you drag your finger over your clit slower. Harder.
“I like it when you call me kid. You haven’t called me that in a while.”
“Oh fuck, I’m sorry, kid,” Adam’s face scrunches and you’re not sure if it’s out of guilt or because of the way his hand his now wringing his cock, twisting at the end of each stroke in a sad rendition of the technique you use when you jerk him off. “I didn’t know you liked it so much.”
“I do.”
“I’ll call you that more often.”
“Good.”
You both are breathing heavily now, a light layer of sweat covering skin that aches to be touched by the other. Your eyelids flutter and you try to keep your sight focused on Adam’s face. You’re feeling your inhibitions leave you as the pressure inside your core mounts, loosened up by the warmth of his breath on your cheeks and the way you’re speaking so openly to him. You decide you might as well continue.
“I also like it when you’re sweet to me.”
Adam falters at that, his hand coming to an abrupt stop on his cock. He blinks down at you.
“I am sweet to you.”
His voice sounds hurt and you bristle, wanting to take the words back.
“You are sweet to me. You are, Adam,” you reassure, grasping his arm. He remains still, watching you. You feel weird continuing to finger yourself, but your so close you are afraid to lose your momentum. “You’re always everything I want. And most times I want to be thrown around and I want to yell and stuff. It’s just sometimes…”
You trail off, but you don’t need to continue because Adam is kissing you. A slow, deep kiss. Lips moving against lips, tongue moving against tongue. His hands find your face and hold you softly, keeping you against him, leaving his cock to bob freely against your stomach. Your fingers abandon your cunt as well and you wrap around Adam, arms and legs both, pulling him down into you.
When Adam finally pulls back, his face no longer looks hurt.
“I can be whatever you want. Let me be what you want.” He kisses your forehead, then the tip of your nose, then the curve of your jaw.
“I want you inside of me,” you finally admit, your voice barely above a whisper.
When he slides in, you don’t have to remind him to go slow. You moan about your walls stretching and he moans about the way you squeeze so tightly around his cock. Your sounds spur each other on and you rock against him, urging him to move.
He pulls out so far that only the tip remains nestled just inside your entrance. When he pushes back in, it feels like he’s pushing in for the first time of the night again. Your walls stretch to accommodate him and you clench instinctively around his length. The process repeats itself, over, and over, until you’re pretty much completely unraveled beneath him.
All the while Adam rains soft kisses on your face, neck, and breasts. Without a chaotic rhythm of thrusts to keep up with, he has the attention span to shower you with even more affection. The hoarse whispers in your ear are by far your favorite:
“You’re so fucking beautiful.”
“You feel so good, you take me so well it doesn’t make fucking sense.”
“Fuck, did you feel that? How tight you’re gripping my cock baby?”
“That’s it, yes make those fucking gorgeous sounds for me.”
It’s not exactly textbook “sweet,” but it’s Adam and it’s what you need. It’s Adam giving you what you need.
You reach down at some point to rub your clit, working yourself up to the edge, but Adam pulls your hand away so his can replace it.
“Not on my fucking watch,” he mutters gruffly. A laugh bubbles in your throat but it bursts into a moan as the dam breaks and you fall apart, crying out his name over and over in the process.
“Yes, baby, yes. Ride it out – fuck you’re hot when you cum.”
You fight to catch your breath and you gaze back up at Adam through the stars in your eyes. The resulting effect makes him both blurry and sparkly in your vision and your muscles continue to contract around his massive cock, which he’s been kind enough to keep stuffed inside you for you to lock onto.
As your muscles begin to relax you blink away the stars and allow a smile of the deepest, most well-fucked satisfaction to slide across your face. Adam watches and his smile matches, though there is still some tightness in his features due to the fact that he is still achingly hard.
“Adam, that was…” you try to catch your breath. “That was…thanks. I needed that.”
When Adam meets your lips for a kiss, however, you yank tightly on the hair at the nape of his neck.
“Now I want you to take what you need,” you say louder. “I want you to cum.”
With your permission, Adam doesn’t need more than a second to switch gears. He lifts your legs straight into the air against his shoulders, bending you into a right angle that becomes more and more acute with each passing second. His cock pounds in and out of your dripping pussy, your slick sliding between your thighs and making the fucking smooth and wet and oh so fucking good for him.
“I still like being sweet to you,” he says through gritted teeth, his thrusting becoming more erratic.
“I know you do, baby,” you hiccup out.
“But fuck! Do I love pounding this pussy.”
You laugh and he cums. All over you. He pulls out, dropping your legs down, and it spurts hot over your stomach and tits. It’s messy but he’s satisfied and you’re satisfied and fuck it, that’s what towels are for.
Once he’s gotten you nice and wiped up again, Adam pulls you to him in the bed, wrapping his arms around you tightly and giving you no room to move away. Not that you’d want to move. Why would you when you can lay here in this bed, tangled up in the man that wrung pleasure from your body and laughter from your lips.
~*~
Tagging some lovely people (please let me know if you’d like to be tagged or untagged in future work!): @mariesackler @direnightshade @safarigirlsp @sacklerscumrag @paper-in-ashes-fanfiction @historyandfandoms50 @clydesfavoritegirl @wayward-rose @hopeamarsu @thegreenmatt @barbers-glimmerin-darlin @finn-ray-nal-beads @fizzywoohoo @maybe-your-left @aliveandlonely 
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elisaphoenix13 ¡ 4 years ago
Text
Debut And (Minor) Fall
Commission for @wombatking! I'm amazed at myself for getting this out so fast! I hope it's to your liking!
"Nonono! Don't hork it down you animal!" Cassie laughs and takes a bite of her own cinnamon-sugar pretzel.
"What? I'm hungry!" Peter says with his mouth full.
"You're always hungry." Cassie shakes her head and tears off another piece of her pretzel as Peter fumbles for his phone when it pings.
He taps away at it after unlocking it to read the message, and then he points it away before directing Cassie a different direction.
"Mom asked us to pick up some things for Lucy." Peter explains and Cassie nods.
"Diapers and formula?" She guesses.
"Yup."
"Do you even know what to get?"
"Nope. He said you would know."
Cassie shakes her head in exasperation. Of course she knew what exactly Stephen got for Lucy because more often than not, she was with him whenever he picked up the baby supplies. She didn't mind though. It gave her a little more alone time with Peter before they were both pulled back into the chaos of the tower. Something she always missed because she learned during those five quiet years that she shouldn't take it for granted. There was a lot she didn't take for granted anymore.
When she sees Peter eyeing her pretzel she holds it away. "You had yours! Three in fact! Let me have my one!"
"Aww come on babe! They're so good!" Peter practically begs.
"No!"
Peter grins and reaches for the last bit of pretzel. "Come on it's just a--"
He suddenly freezes and Cassie yelps in surprise when Peter pushes her away and then her eyes widen when something blasts into sidewalk where she had been standing just moments ago. As the sidewalk smolders, she and Peter look into the direction the fireball came from and find what looked to be another psychotic villain with a grudge.
Fucking fantastic.
"Not cool." Peter says before tapping his nanotech bracelet to suit up and webs toward the villain after telling Cassie to find somewhere safe to hide.
For a moment she considered it, but when Peter was almost immediately blasted away when he got close enough to the attacker, she decided that it was probably time to reveal her powers. Tony had made her her own suit just in case, and Cassie hadn't even asked for one but she was glad for it. It was more subtle than the bracelets that Stephen and the boys had for their suits, and it still amazed her how Tony managed to fit a whole suit in a ring. It was like the others though and all it needed was a tap before nanites covered her body and formed a suit similar to her father's.
The moment she was completely covered, she grew to a large size and stopped Peter from hitting asphalt by catching him with one of her hands. Cassie hears him mumble to himself in confusion and then he looks up and the eyes of his suit widen.
"Holy shit!" Peter shouts.
He clearly had a default reaction to seeing people grow for the first time.
"You okay?" She asks.
"I...I will be when I have time to process...this," Peter motions to her. "That will have to wait. Do you mind?"
Peter points back toward the approaching villain and Cassie nods before tossing her boyfriend back towards him. As Peter webs what looks like a custom flamethrower away from the villain, Cassie shrinks back down and runs up to assist. Having his weapon ripped from his hands was enough of a distraction for Cassie to reach the villain and deliver a blow under his jaw, and he stumbles back in surprise.
The training Cassie went through was finally worth it as she continued to help Peter try and restrain the villain who had pulled out another weapon that was definitely alien. She wasn't even surprised to see one anymore. Like Hydra, alien weapons were always hidden in the cracks and came out at the most inopportune times and there was likely no chance of finding them all. Especially when people dismantled the power sources for use in other weapons. Peter had experience with that.
Cassie gets blasted back by the weapon and lands with a groan on the ground. This was still better than being tossed around by a celestial. While Quill never actually used his full strength while helping her train, he only pulled his punches just enough for it to hurt but not actually cause any damage to Cassie. Basically how he trained with Scott was how he trained with her. Quill pulled his punches but it still left some nasty bruises.
Cassie sits up and glares at the villain as she lifts one of her wrists. "I can do that too." She then sends a bio electric blast at him hitting both him and his weapon.
Peter webs him to the ground as he swings down to Cassie, and he helps her to her feet. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine. Papa has done worse if I'm gonna be honest."
"Ugh. I know what you mean. I think your dad is a masochist."
"I try not to think about it. Thanks."
The two walk over to the unconscious villain and look down at him.
"What do we do about him?" She asks.
"Ping the cops." Peter shrugs. "They'll come take care of him."
"That's it?" Cassie asks in surprise. "Seems a little…"
She trails off when she hears a soft beep over the noise around them and she looks closer at the villain. Peter looks as well and when Cassie looks at the weapon, her eyes widen when she sees a light on the weapon start to flash rapidly in tune with fast beeping.
"Run!" She yells.
But it was too late. The weapon exploded and the force of it sent both Peter and Cassie flying back in different directions. Cassie was sent into an alley and she groans when she lands into a pile of boxes and old wood, and she was pretty sure she felt something...snap? When she tosses the garbage off of her and tries to get to her feet, she cries out in pain when her ankle throbs and sends her to the ground.
"I believe you have fractured your ankle Miss. I suggest you lie still. I've already paged the doctor." Victor says and Cassie blinks in surprise.
"Victor? You're in my suit?"
"Yes. It was decided that I would help you whenever you felt the need to use your suit." The AI explains.
"Cassie!" Peter runs over just as a gateway opens and Stephen steps through.
"Victor says I broke my ankle and I'm inclined to believe him." She tells them and Peter carefully picks her up.
"Leave your suit on until we get you to medbay." Stephen says and motions for Peter to follow.
Stephen changes the destination of the gateway to the medbay and walks back through with Peter following close behind with Cassie. The sorcerer directs Peter to an empty bed and he carefully lays Cassie on it who hisses a little when her ankle is jostled. When Stephen asks her to, she retracts the suit and the nanites crawl back into their core in her ring and he carefully pushes up her pant leg to assess the damage. It was already swollen and purple and Stephen barely had to touch it for more pain to flare up.
"Ow!"
"I think Victor is right but we'll still take some x-rays." Stephen says.
While the doctor moves around getting things ready to x-ray Cassie's ankle, Bruce arrives with Scott and Quill and Cassie smiles sheepishly at her parents.
"What happened?" Scott asks as he rushes to her bedside.
"She kicked ass." Peter says. His suit had also been put away during her exam and now he was just standing by as support.
"A weapon self destructed and kind of rudely threw me into an alley." Cassie explains. "Broke my ankle."
Scott turns to Quill immediately. "Can you heal her?"
"Uhhh...I'd rather not. Bones are a little more finicky than flesh." Quill says.
"I'm okay." Cassie says as she rolls her eyes.
"Are you sure? No head injuries?" Scott asks when he returns his attention back to her.
"Tony made the suit. I'm sure I would have had a few if he didn't."
"That's not funny."
===========
Stephen's AI was right. Cassie had broken her ankle and Bruce had to put a plaster cast on her which she was required to wear for at least six weeks. He would monitor it closely during that time and much to Cassie's annoyance, Scott rarely let her move around. Which made sense, but he and Quill were disasters with housework and she was afraid to watch them attempt laundry. The few times they did it themselves, only twice it went without a hitch and the other times were too painful to recall.
"Ugh!" Cassie groans when Scott keeps her from getting up from the couch. "Are you going to help me pee?!"
Her father immediately holds his hands up. "Oh. No. That's all you peanut."
"Thank you." She sighs and gets up with her crutches and makes her way to the bathroom.
To be fair, going to the bathroom was a little bit of a struggle but at least it gave her some feeling of independence. Her dads barely let her do anything except go to the bathroom, and there was only one time she fell and needed help. She never told them that of course because she had been up with Peter and it happened to be in his bathroom. When she asked for his help, he was so calm about it and to her surprise he didn't even blush or sputter when he saw her with her pants halfway down. He just helped her up and looked away while he kept her up so she could pull them back up.
In fact, Peter had been a huge help ever since she got her cast. He got her whatever she wanted that he was capable of making (which wasn't much; he was almost as bad as Quill), he sometimes helped her change or get ready for the shower which was also something she didn't tell her dad's because they would blow a gasket, and he kept her company whenever Diana didn't. Diana was helpful too. She helped with bathroom stuff too if Cassie needed it and her parents knew about the little girl's help.
After she finishes in the bathroom and washes her hands, she opens the bathroom door and proceeds to leave, only for one of her crutches to get caught on the door jamb. She yelps and falls forward and fortunately gets caught by Quill who she had fallen against. He helps her straighten and uses a small amount of his powers to pick up the crutch she had dropped and returns it to her.
"You alright?"
"Yeah. Thanks. I'm gonna go upstairs." Cassie sighs.
"Let me help you to the elevator." Before Cassie can argue he points over in the direction of the elevator and she finds Emir sleeping near it. "He's kind of a big obstacle." Quill laughs.
"Oh, right." Cassie nods and accepts Quill's help, which consisted of him picking her up and carrying her to the elevator and he puts her back down as the doors open. "Thanks Papa."
Quill winks at her. "I'll distract your dad."
Cassie makes a face when she catches his insinuation and Quill cackles as the doors close. She was pretty sure he was taking advantage of her inability to run away by torturing her like this. She was half tempted to return the favor by insinuating that she and Peter were doing things but she was pretty sure that would backfire and her dads would try to kill Peter. She liked her boyfriend thank you very much.
When the doors opened again, she was immediately greeted by Peter who was the next to scoop her up. "Movie in bed?"
"I want to watch Moana and I want a shoulder massage. These crutches are killing me." Cassie pouts and Peter laughs as he carries her upstairs.
"Your wish is my command."
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hrodvitnon ¡ 4 years ago
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Heh, yeah, he probably didn't think Goji being that small would be a problem.
Alright, moving on-I have another little scenario cooked up: it regards Godzilla and his family needing to deal with all of the incarnations (minus Earth) that I mentioned in previous posts suddenly being teleported (along with those they cherish) to the Abraxasverse, and how they need to coexist with one another lest it ends up like this fic:
https://m.fanfiction.net/s/12783256/1/Godzilla-Battle-of-the-Ten-Kings (Ignore the outcome that Heisei won)
I also have a pretty good idea how this might affect the routes (don't worry, I won't let you describe how you can't speculate yourself yet-I'll do it myself for this.)
In the Coexistence Route, there's going to be a lot of chaotic confusion regarding around 10 or so versions of Godzilla running around and possibly starting to rampage in response to being taken from their home dimensions; MV!Goji and his family have their hands full trying to stop/talk with the other Gojis to stop rampaging & explain where they are now. Showa might be the most reasonable and will likely help them out, especially with the likes of Kiryu Saga!Goji & GMK!Goji who will resist and try to fight back against those who they see as impostors until Showa & MonsterVerse Godzilla put them in their place and get them to listen. The 2000 twins might accept since they do have equal levels of sapience to Showa!Goji, it's the bigger Godzillas that might pose a problem-with Heisei & Final Wars probably getting into a large & intense fight if they ever met & cause massive collateral damage in the process-not to mention another version of Shin who wouldn't have the same personality or empathy as his Abraxasverse counterpart and will be hostile to anything and everyone around him-including his counterpart because he sees Abraxas!Shin as weak due to his empathy. The Titans & humanity will need to work together to corral and get Heisei, Final Wars, and 2016!Shin to stop and listen to reason (though 2016!Shin possibly will need to be frozen again)-and it might end with all Godzillas agreeing to stop fighting (on certain conditions) , but they need a place to live that is isolated enough to be at peace (GMK will be left out and probably be either killed or vanquished to the Hollow Earth for Kong to finish him off with his axe); with a version of Monster Island to be used as a new home for the Godzillas (with Minilla, Minya, & Godzilla Jr to accompany their respective fathers there). It would end with a wobbly, but peaceful Coexistence.
In the Genocide Route however, things will not go so well....
Because here-the Godzilla incarnations are teleported while MV!Goji is in the process of wiping out humanity-the Titans start to become frustrated & very wary of these other Gojis as they start to pick fights with each other and, whether accidently or not, kill more humans in the process. Of course, MV!Goji will quickly sense the presence of these other Godzillas and immediately try to attack them as a result of his hallucinations blinding his judgement and common sense-resulting in some of the Gojis (Heisei especially) having a bone to pick with him after the fact. It might all culminate in a final showdown after some warmup battles in (very ironically) Tokyo-where all the Gojis show up, destroy the city to get themselves ready-and start to battle one another for the right to be the one true King of the Monsters!(of course, this is actually just to get rid of the competition)
The Titans & MV!Goji's family then watch with bated breath as the 10 Kings duke it out and slowly start to permanently kill each other as the fighting and stakes get higher and higher-with Kiryu Saga!Goji being the first one to die before the others, 2016!Shin does some creepy stuff that might disturb his counterpart, the original 1954 Goji is also in the fight and gets beaten up a lot, and all the smaller Gojis are killed off before the night ends. The larger Godzillas start to unleash their true power as the fighting gets even more intense, a great many beam-lock wars are had-& then the slaughter begins-Shin ends up being the first to die as the other 3 Gojis gang up on him after he potshots them too much, and then, you will likely be surprised-Heisei is then offed. How so? Let me describe:
• Despite their respective powers-Final Wars and MV!Goji (if the hallucinations briefly go away) will recognize Heisei!Goji as having a lot of potential to kill either of them (my interpretation) and team up to take him down-resulting in a complete decapitation to permanently kill him (heh, how's that for irony?).
The former two are the last ones standing-and fight the last fight for their lives. Everyone watches in anxiety and Godzilla's family, despite what he has recently done, pray that he wins this last fight. At first, MV!Goji has the upper hand, having gone feral & finally stopped holding back, and is seemingly very close to killing his counterpart-only for him to reveal he was also holding back and turns the tables on the natural Godzilla, tossing him around-beating him senseless & utterly wrecking him. Everyone watches in understandable horror as Final Wars!Goji then begins to charge up his spines....and they flash crimson red as he then impossibly throws MV!Goji high up into the sky.
Having had enough, Godzilla's family rush to stop what was about to happen....but it's too late.
Final Wars!Goji unleashes his Burning G Spark Heat Ray into his counterpart (here he doesn't need Ozaki's boost to gain the ability), who initially tanks the attack-but it slowly becomes too much for his body to handle....and after a few seconds, he lets out one, final agonized roar before exploding into a fiery ball of light & chuncks of flesh. His family, and the Titans can only watch in silenced shock as their Godzilla bit the dust and was now gone forever......
Meanwhile, Final Wars Goji roars in victory before immediately going to the sea to rest after winning. The only ones happy with MV!Goji's demise is humanity, who sort-of praise Final Wars!Goji as a hero of sorts and slowly start to rebuild what Godzilla destroyed. On the Titan perspective, the other Titans are initially very hesitant to accept Final Wars Godzilla as their new Alpha/King, but after he demonstrates his abilities and power-they submit and look to him as the new ruler of Earth, the only ones who outright rejected his rule were Kong, Tiamat, Barbra, Dagon, Scylla, and Rodan-with the now deceased MV!Goji's family going into hiding in the Hollow Earth to grieve the death of their Godzilla.
Mothra is in complete anguish and despair after the death of her mate, Shin & Junior are in similar states and become depressed, Leo, Manda, & Keeta are mostly unaware of what's happening but do their best to comfort their peers since they can easily detect their sadness, but the one who was affected the most was Monster X, with Viv trying to deny the fact that Godzilla was gone, and San trying anything to comfort her. Kong visits every now and then with Jia to act as emotional support to the grieving family and generously lets them stay in the Hollow Earth as a temporary home until they recover enough to head to the surface.
Mothra heads to an isolated island to be alone after she justifiably rejects FW!Goji as her king, Shin & Junior go with her along with Leo and Manda, Keeta is taken back to his adoptive father, and Monster X starts to develop a bitter grudge against FW!Goji and wants revenge for MV!Goji's death; but even Viv'n'San know that trying to take on the one who killed the other Gojis wouldn't end well for them-so they teeth-clenchingly 'coexist' with FW!Goji until they find a way to get their revenge.....even if they themselves die or it would be for nothing.....
Just to inform you, I can understand if you don't like the Genocide branch-off scenario, so you can simply react to the Coexistence one if you like.
But overall, what do you think of the second long post that I wrote?
Yeaaaaaah, not a fan of the Genocide branch-off... plus I wasn't a fan of the whole Everyone Beats Up MV!Goji thing from previous asks, it's all kinda, well, sus.
...though I'd like to bring up something that Monster X themselves state in Abraxas Chapter 17: They can be good, but can also be a terrible (if necessary) evil, true to their namesake. In this instance, I'd picture them flatly rejecting FW!Goji out of rage and hate because he basically killed what Vivienne saw as a mentor/god, and this cat-faced bastard expects submission from them? Fuck that. He'll get in their face about it like, "I'm your king now. Kneel."
But Monster X just stares at him with the same cold hate they gave to MaNi before mauling and killing him. "KNEEL!" FW!Goji demands. Monster X doesn't even blink. "Even kings kneel before the executioner." FW!Goji scowls at them with fire in his eyes. "You better not be threatening me, you little freak. You saw how I put down that rabid animal you're being such a whiny bitch about."
"Oh no," Monster X says with thinly-veiled contempt, "Certainly not. Just making a historical observation. I'm the Executioner... and no king's reign lasts forever, Usurper." Then they have the balls to turn their back on him and move to the Hollow Earth, knowing that even if FW!Goji wants to throw hands he has no real reason to (unless he wants to be an asshole) and FW!Goji has some measure of reason. Implied Death Threat aside, they never explicitly challenged him and attacking them just for disagreeing with him (when MV!Goji left Kong alone after he refused to submit) will only make him look like a tyrant.
---
For the Coexistence Chaos, I wouldn't consider 2016!Shin to be actively hostile to everything around him; in his home film it's noted that "behaviorally it just moves," he's basically a confused animal that doesn't know what's going on and simply reacts (see also the lyrics to Who Will Know), and he only explicitly reacts with violence once he's met with violence (namely gaining his atomic breath after GBU-57s were dropped on him), so he'll be hostile purely out of self-defense.
Also, regarding the Genocide branch off, let's not forget 2016!Shin's 5th form (the army of small humanoid Shin Godzilla's literal seconds away from branching off from his tail); because 2016!Shin is constantly evolving in a way to combat the threats he faces, it's not out of the question that he'd just spawn the 5th forms so they can scurry off and go into hiding while the other 9 Gojis are ripping each other apart.
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softbiker ¡ 5 years ago
Text
Bucky Barnes Oneshot
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Warnings: a couple of bad words
Word Count: 3.6k
Summary: After being injured on a mission, Bucky winds up spending a day with the Avengers newest recruit. Bucky x Reader
A/N: This is my submission for @nacho-bucky ‘s writing challenge! My prompt was ‘the smell of freshly baked bread’. As a side note, I drank a whole pot of coffee yesterday and wrote this in one afternoon, so it’s also unedited :) As always, let me know what you think! 
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By the time the quinjet is an hour out from New York, Bucky Barnes is in an irredeemably foul mood.
Breaking up terror cells in Germany was supposed to be an easy mission - in and out, with the practiced ease of their well-oiled strike team. Really, they took the mission to spare German special forces the trouble...that, and a potential connection to an old Red Room contact of Natasha’s. With their “dream team” (Sam’s words, not Bucky’s) of Cap, Bucky, Sam, and Natasha, this should have been a light op, a scrimmage, Nerf ball.
Turns out superheroing is a contact sport, and they’ve got the bombs and broken ribs to prove it. A train station, a decoy, and an explosive device Natasha failed to disarm. With Sam coordinating civilian evacuation, there had only been a couple dozen injuries, but the suspect had slipped away, leaving them bruised and empty-handed.
Bucky had taken a brutal hit as he pulled Nat to safety, and now he is curled in his seat on the jet, metal hand holding his ribcage. He watches Steve scowl in the cockpit, jaw unflinchingly tight as he goes over the mission in his head. The captain doesn’t know how to let things go - never has, never will. Sam is actually piloting the quinjet, making unreturned small talk about a basketball game he went to last weekend. Natasha sits across from Bucky, a Stark tablet in her hands, dissecting bomb schematics and diagrams of diffusion techniques. There’s a little scab of dried blood on her bottom lip that she pokes at with her tongue, red brows lowered in concentration.
Bucky is exhausted - his hair smells like dust and smoke, his mouth is tangy and dry. There’s dried sweat underneath his uniform and he itches and his feet are hot in his boots and his ribs really fucking hurt. He lets his head fall back against the seat, and wishes they were home already.
**********
She pops her head up over the back of the couch when she hears them. What a sight they make: Bucky, propped up on Steve’s shoulder, Natasha dust-covered and buried in her tablet, Sam still sweaty and tugging at the harness on his suit. She still smiles, tentative but kind.
“Hi guys.” She lifts her fingers in a little wave. “Everyone okay?”
Bucky grunts in response; Natasha says nothing, making a beeline for her room and a shower. Sam, without doubt the most talkative person on the team, props himself on a stool and blows a harsh breath past his lips.
“We’re alright, yeah,” he sighed. “Barnes is a little beat up but he’ll get over it - he’s just  dramatic.”
“Fuck you, too, Wilson.” Bucky flips Sam off over his shoulder as they hobble towards the elevators.
She winces, not yet used to their harsh banter.
“Hey man, be nice in front of the rookie, alright?” Sam hollers, mock-offended. “You’re creating a hostile work environment!”
Steve chuckles a little at that, jostling Bucky’s tender ribs, which makes him scowl at his best friend.
“Bucky is a hostile work environment,” Steve deadpans. They’ve reached the elevator, and shuffle inside, turning to face the common room. Bucky catches the rookie’s eyes as she giggles behind her hand.
“She’s fine,” he rolls his eyes, sparing a wink for the rookie. “When I make it hostile, bird brain, you’ll know.”
The elevator doors close, and he leans on Steve a little heavier, and jabs his elbow into Steve’s stomach.
“Thanks a lot for that, by the way,” he huffs.
“What?” Steve feigns innocence, and very poorly. “Didn’t know you were so worried about making a good impression on the rookie.”
“I’m - I’m not.”
“Uh huh.”
“Shut up.”
They meet Dr. Banner in the medical wing where his lab adjoins the clinic; Sam had messaged him half an hour ago that they were inbound with a broken supersoldier, and Bruce had taken the liberty of setting up some of his supplies. Of all the doctors on staff, Bucky favored Dr. Banner - he was mild and soft-spoken enough to not trigger Bucky’s anxiety, in spite of the needles and IV drips and the snapping of latex gloves.
An X-ray and some bandages later, Bucky is removed from the active duty list for two weeks.
“Even with your advanced healing factor, I wanna be careful with this,” Bruce says, taking off his glasses to scratch the side of his nose. “I mean, your medical history is a little blurry, to say the least - and with all the shit HYDRA pulled, who knows what kind of stress your bones have been through before.” He taps away on his tablet, notifying FRIDAY and the admin system to remove Bucky from the roster. “In the meantime, take it easy - no missions, no training, no lifting weights. Probably avoid the motorcycle, too. I’ll check on them again in two weeks, and we’ll go from there.”
Steve is nodding - he never leaves Bucky by himself in medical - and crosses his arms. Neither of them have changed out of their uniforms yet, and in this sterile observation room, Bucky can finally smell the layers of grime and sweat clinging to them. His nose wrinkles when he gets a little whiff of himself, feeling bad for the nurse who bandaged his ribs.
“Oh I almost forgot -” Bruce turns around and reaches for something on his lab bench. A little blue bottle, full of round white pills. “Here. I developed these for the two of you - since you metabolize normal painkillers so quickly, I figured we might need something that would work in the event you sustain heavy injuries which…well, seemed likely. Take 2 every 4 hours, okay?”
His metal fingers grip the little bottle, rattling the tablets inside.
“Sure thing, doc.”
**********
She lifts the hem of her shirt, wiping at the sweat on her forehead, and leans against the wall of the gym. Her breath comes in short pants as her chest heaves, trying to cool down from her last bout with Agent Romanoff.
“Heads up.”
Her hands barely make it up in time to catch the flying water bottle headed for her face.
“Good catch,” Romanoff smirks a little. She’s sweating, too, but in a way that’s decidedly more sexy, little red curls hanging by her face. She looks fresh from a Pilates class, not a suicide workout - the rookie can feel the heat of her own face, the sweat drenching her clothes, and knows she’s not nearly as glowing as her trainer.
“You did really good today,” Romanoff continues. She keeps saying to call her “Natasha” but that is so hard to do with a woman so intimidating her alias is one of the world’s deadliest animals. “Really good. You’ve shown tons of improvement since we started. I’m going to recommend we start letting you shadow on missions in a couple more weeks.”
“Wow, really?” Her face lit up in spite of her exhaustion.
“Sure.” Natasha smiles. “I know it’s gotten a little boring, having you go through all of this.”
“Boring” was an understatement. Despite having a few years of experience under her belt - well, according to Tony Stark, vigilantism barely counts as “experience” - the rookie was assigned to a training program for her first couple of months on the team.
“Too much of a risk to put you in the field right away,” Stark had rattled off, handing her forms to sign and an official t-shirt (‘Look Mom! I’m an Avenger!’) and a tablet with a map of the compound. “Legal says we can avoid liability issues with a training program before we gradually phase you in, and I’m inclined to agree, so! Welcome to the team, but not officially!”
Her days consisted of early morning workouts, followed by combat and tactical training with Black Widow herself, and then...well, not much. There was research, of course, and she stayed on top of the intelligence briefings with the rest of the team. She went to meetings and official dinners and unofficial karaoke nights, but the rest of her time was mostly her own. Frankly, she was chomping at the bit to get back out there, in the action. Helping people.
“Well, hopefully it’ll pay off,” she sighs, giving Agent Romanoff an exhausted smile. “I wouldn’t want to be the weak link on the team.”
“You won’t be, believe me,” Natasha shakes her head. With a glance at her watch, she picks up her own water bottle and heads for the door. “Now I’ve gotta run, Skype meeting with Fury in 5. I’ll see you later, Rookie!”
**********
Bucky Barnes was feeling good.
Like, damn good.
Like, ‘Banner should label his controlled substances’ good.
Thing is, post-HYDRA and post-fugitive and post-cognitive reconstruction therapy, Bucky was more mentally okay than he had been in decades. He had the occasional rough day, and he definitely wasn’t perfect by any means, but with the shrinks that Stark had on retainer, he was getting better at dealing with it all. His physical health, however, was more of a moving target. In spite of receiving a bastardized supersoldier serum, he had been pumped full of so much other shit and gone through so much physical stress that his body had fundamentally shifted equilibrium. Multiple appointments with Dr. Cho and Shuri revealed that his chronic pain may never fully heal - if it did, it would be a very gradual process. Normal painkillers in reasonable doses did nothing for him, so Bucky settled in to his discomfort, carrying it the way he carried his knives and his scars - always.
24 hours into his medical leave, a few doses of pills down, and he couldn’t feel a single ounce of pain in his body - he shifted his awareness to each part of himself, like that guided meditation thing Wanda did sometimes, and he couldn’t find the pain, not even lurking behind the muscle and metal. He might be a little miffed at being off the active duty roster, but if his whole vacation is going to feel like this? Well, he doesn’t mind to let Steve handle the next threat to world peace.
With his schedule suddenly wide open, Bucky wonders what he’ll do with his day. He can’t remember the last time he truly had nothing to do - it’s an exciting prospect. So he lets himself ease through his morning, sleeping in, long hot shower, slipping on those plush Black Widow pajama pants Nat gave him as a gag gift. He knows everyone else will have had their breakfast and moved on to morning briefings and training drills by now, and he wanders down to the kitchen in the hopes that they’ve left him some coffee.
He sees her there, perched on a stool at the island and frowning at the tablet in her hand. There’s a little scrunch to her nose when she does that, he notices.
“Good morning,” he says softly, trying and failing not to startle her.
“Oh, hey Bucky,” she smiles, watches him round the island to the coffee pot on the counter. “I didn’t see you there.”
“S’okay. I’m quiet.”
“You didn’t get tapped for the recovery mission? They’re going after your suspect from Berlin again, I think.”
“Oh, I’m off missions for two weeks.” He turns, giant ‘Don’t forget to be awesome’ mug gripped in his metal hand. “Banner’s orders. You didn’t hear about my smashed ribs?”
“Oh no, I guess not - are you okay?” Suddenly she’s concerned, and a little sheepish. “Sorry, I’m still a little out of the loop I guess.”
He feels guilty for that - she’s eager, bright, kind, a brilliant recruit. But it can take a while before you’re ‘in’ with the team. Not because they exclude her, but, well - a group made up of outsiders has a hard time adding new faces to the mix.
“Don’t apologize. Not your fault.” Bucky digs around in a jar on the counter for a few sugar packets, dumping them into his mug. “Anyways, I’m off the roster for now. Gotta figure out something to do with myself, I guess.”
Her smile is slow, ducked under pretty lashes - he really needs to stop noticing these things.
“Would you - I mean, you can hang out with me if you want?” She chews on her lip. “I’m done for today - my training with Natasha ended early and they didn’t need me in on the briefing so…”
The rookie was lonely - he could see that, anyone could. The fact is, between their own training and missions, it had been a little hard for the team to spend very much time with her. Bucky himself was often a bit of a loner in his free time, preferring to hole up in his room with books and movies rather than go out for drinks or another karaoke night. And yet, he found himself feeling eager at the thought of spending a relaxing day with the new recruit, getting to know her a little, hearing that funny little laugh through her nose.
“Sounds great, Rookie - what did ya have in mind?”
**********
“Okay, I just wanna go on the record and say I called it. I called it!” She’s grinning. “I knew you would love this.”
“Well, hey, in my defense, I’ve never hated beautiful women.”
She just rolls her eyes, kicks her feet out to rest on the coffee table in front of them. There’s a pile of DVD’s, all hers, laying across the surface, picked through and ranked in order of what was most important for Bucky to see. His film education was obviously lacking, considering he missed out on 70 years of movies, and didn’t even know what he liked anymore, so he was content to let her pick. After raiding the kitchen for an array of snacks, they settled in, opposite ends of the same couch with a bowl of popcorn and dark chocolate M&M’s between them.
Approximately 20 minutes into the movie, Steve appears, just passing through for an apple from the fridge. He stops in his tracks behind the couch, the crunch of the fruit in his mouth just above their heads.
“What is this?” he says around his mouthful. If his Ma could see him now, Bucky thinks.
“It’s called ‘How to Marry a Millionaire’ - came out in 1953,” she answers, smiling over her shoulder at him. “It’s one of my favorites honestly.”
“That’s - that’s Lauren Bacall!” Steve perks up, smacking Bucky’s shoulder.
“Yeah, punk,” Bucky rolls his eyes. “Betty Grable’s in it, too.”
“No shit!” Steve is grinning now, and he gives the rookie a conspiratorial look. “Y’know, Bucky used to have her pin-up poster. The one in the white bathing suit? Had it in his suitcase when he shipped out.”
“Oh, really?” She’s looking at him now, eyes sparkling at the rosy blush climbing up Bucky’s cheeks. “Betty Grable, huh?”
He clears his throat. “Well, everybody had that picture, I mean...it’s famous for a reason. All the boys had ‘em.”
“No, no, I get that,” she shrugs. “I just had you pegged as more the Rita Hayworth type, that’s all.”
It takes him back for a second, Steve too, that she knows these starlets, that they could’ve been having this same conversation 75 years ago. He can see that look in Steve’s eyes, sly and knowing as they slide towards him. Bucky works his mouth, tries to control his smile.
“Well, nothing wrong with her either,” he drawls, spreading his arms along the back of the couch. “But did you see Grable’s legs?”
“I just thought you might’ve had a thing for redheads!” she laughs.
“They’re alright, I guess - now Dugan on the other hand…”
Neither of them notices Steve leave the room, tossing the apple in his hand and a huge dopey grin on his face.
**********
“Tell me again what the recipe says?”
“One cup of pumpkin puree.”
“Oh - shit, I thought you said one can.”
She smacks her forehead. “No wonder the batter is so goopy!” She rolls her eyes playfully. “You’re trying to ruin my bread, Barnes.”
“I swear I’m not, doll - it was an accident.”
“Okay, new plan - we just make a double batch since the can has two cups in it.”
She shuffles around behind him, grabbing her flour and sugar and sour cream and other ingredients, hands flurrying to measure and fix the dough. It’s mid-afternoon now, a couple of movies down, and they (she) decided they needed to get in the fall spirit by baking a ridiculous amount of...breads. The banana bread is already in the oven, the pumpkin will be on its way as soon as she fixes his mistake, and a blueberry bread (made from muffin mix) is next on the list.
“But...what’s so special about making it into breads?” He had asked, causing her to look at him like an idiot.
“Ask me that again after you try them, Bucky.”
So he shut up and cracked eggs and sifted flour, stirring when her arm got tired. He was already regretting his words now that the smell of the banana bread was drifting towards him from the ovens, and he had to admit the pumpkin and cinnamon from her bowl was making his stomach growl. With all the bowls and measuring cups laying around, they were making enough sweet breads to feed an army, but hey - the Avengers are practically a small army of their own. And besides, Bucky intends on taking an entire loaf - baker’s privilege.
He decides that he likes watching her work, bouncing around the kitchen, some oldies playlist on the speakers, her tongue poking out between her lips. She’s got her sweater sleeves pushed up over her elbows - he had to help with that, after she got dough on them. This song is good, too, and he wants to ask her who wrote it-
“Are you gonna stand there staring at me, or are you gonna help?” she quips over her shoulder. He has no idea when he last smiled so much.
“You’re the boss, Rookie.”
**********
She’s got her feet in his lap now, and they haven’t said a word in an hour, and Bucky doesn’t even remember taking his last dose or two of his pain pills but he doesn’t feel a goddamn thing.
There’s a huge book in her lap, Stephen King - a favorite, he’s learned.
“I read at least one of his books every year in October,” she tells him. “You know, to get ready for spooky season.”
“Spooky season? What the hell is that?”
“You know, Halloween time!” she smacks his arm. “It’s Halloween first, Buck, you gotta get in the spirit.”
“I’m -” he sputters, face drawn in the most adorably confused look. “Halloween first?”
She hands him a book of his own and now here they are - he’s 20 pages into The Shining, but he’s stopped paying attention because she’s yawning behind her book and her eyes are fluttering shut, and it shouldn’t be as distracting as it is.
He forces his eyes down to his own page, to Jack Torrance and haunted hotels, but they’re drawn back up when her book finally drops the rest of the way to her lap. Her head slumps sideways onto the back of the couch, mouth open just a little. He draws the blanket down around her feet and tucks it in a little tighter, but other than that, doesn’t move a muscle. He’s just fine right here, thank you.
He’s sinking in again, driving up the twisting mountain road to the Overlook, when his phone buzzes in his pocket. Carefully - in the way highly trained superspies can be careful - he lifts his hips up and pulls his phone from his pocket, managing not to dislodge her feet or wake her up. She merely sighs in her sleep, nuzzling her face into the couch pillow. A text notification from team group message lights up the screen.
It’s Natasha. A photo, a photo which she somehow managed to take without him knowing, of him and the rookie, practically snuggling on the couch and reading together. Her legs are propped over his lap, and Bucky’s eyes are staring straight at her over the top of his book. Nat has captioned the photo: “looks like Barnes found a good nurse.”
He snorts a little. Natalia. Glances up at her, still sleeping, and tilts his phone upwards a few degrees and snaps a picture to send back.
“She sleeps on the job” he types, thumbs still slow on the phone keyboard. Instantly, his phone starts buzzing with more texts from the team, but he mutes it and lays his phone on the coffee table. He doesn’t feel like talking now. Well, talking to them.
“Hey...Rookie,” he whispers, reaching out and shaking her shoulder a little. She hums in her sleep, but makes no other move.
“Rookie, I gotta ask you something.” He wiggles her leg a little, shaking her feet in his lap, and whispers her name. He’s rewarded with her eyes fluttering open, her mouth drawn down in a pout at being woken up.
“Whatisit,” she sighs, still slumped into the cushions. He clears his throat. Here goes nothing.
“So, there’s a charity gala for the Stark Foundation coming up next weekend,” he starts bravely. “And - and the whole team is going anyway, so I know you’re gonna be there, but - well, maybe you would consider going...with me?” Courage runs out, and his brain backpedals. “I mean, just as a friend?”
She huffs. “I can’t believe you woke me up for that.”
“Oh.” He looks down, hair falling in his eyes. “So...you don’t want to go with me?”
“Of course I’ll go with you, Barnes,” she sighs. “Now shush. I was napping”
His face hurts from the stretch in his cheeks when he smiles. He’s gonna give Bruce those pain meds back.
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leglesstv ¡ 4 years ago
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THE DARK DAYS BACK– 2021
 I have been struggling with how to start this piece. I guess I should tell you a little about myself.
What I do for a living is not who I am, yeah, I get to blow shit up and its super fun but it’s not what defines me.
I have been a water baby all my life from growing up on the beach to commercial diver.
The ocean or the ocean’s rhythm ebbs and flows within me.
Surfing has been the biggest part of my life for longer than I care to remember. For sure I have been out the water for extended periods before while working on projects overseas. Always with the knowledge that I will be getting wet again, sometime soon. I have never before been concerned that surfing will not be an option. I have always just figured I would surf till the day I die.
 October 2019 we were still basking in the glory of a once in a lifetime trip to the Ments. 10 Kneelos on a boat sailing around the Mentawai’s. Absolutely what dreams are made of. Red, Giggs, Lester, Larry, Craig, Steve, Johan, Andrew and myself. Jason the skipper of Switchfoot made it 10 chargers in total.
We had also had a run of solid swell at the local, which for me was all time as my new Kneeon that Nick had shaped for me had arrived. Nick and I had chatted over the phone, had a few video calls and bam!! this magic carpet arrives. Oh my sack, I have never been happier with a stick. My surfing went up in leaps and bounds. Never been happier in my life.
 Around this time, I started to get pains in my left hip which radiated down the leg. Initially it wasn’t too bad but it got progressively worse. It got to a stage where I literally couldn’t walk anymore. Thinking it’s got to be the hip, off I went to the hip specialist. Had some photos taken of the hip, back to the clever guy’s office and this is where things started to go south.
Mate, as hips go, yours look beautiful but I recommend you go see a neurosurgeon.
Your spine doesn’t look good at all.
You can imagine, I’m thinking “what the fuck, are you sure you’re looking at the right X-rays.”
So, at least by this time I was on crutches to help me get around and waddled off to see Dave. Dave is a neurosurgeon that had done some work on my spine before.
Same sort of story, pain in my shoulder, radiating down my right arm.
True as nuts, I had gone to the shoulder clever guy who had told me exactly what the hip guy had just told me. Anyway, a long story short, Dave did a decompression on the C7 and T1 vertebrae.
I was booked on a boat trip to the Maldives with my good mate Guy. He is a stand up but I love him anyway. I manage to get on the plane without really having tested the neck or having had time for rehab of any sorts. Probably not my brightest move. We had solid swell the whole trip, but truth be told, I was in constant pain.
Once back in SA, I was off to see Dave again. X-rays and CT scans followed, and Dave said unfortunately we going to have to fuse the C7 and T1 but we will go in through the front this time.
Absolutely no problems whatsoever and I was back in the water 3 months later.
Dave, howzit I’m back. More scans and X-rays (starting to know everyone by their first names by now) followed. Yip, pretty much the same story, crumbling, degeneration of the spine.
I was booked in for a decompression on the L4 and L5. The procedure was pretty standard and uneventful. Unfortunately, just as with the neck, the decompression was not successful. A week later, I was booked in for a multistage fusion, L4, L5 and S1.
So, they going to open me up again along the same incision line, not feeling great about that but hey, there are worse things in life. Waking up from this op was a rude awakening. Fuck me this shit hurts. Trying to move was pretty tender for sure. Anyhow the drugs did their thing and a few days later I was able to get out of bed and lose the dreaded catheter. Walking was fair interesting to say the least, I had to laugh at myself as I looked like a mummy.
Little shuffles with my hands out front but hey, I was mobile. The day they let me out rolled around. Crap balls I felt like shit and was fair tender. It felt like someone was taking a mallet to my head.
I remember battling to get into the wheelchair to get me to the car. The nausea was just incredible, I thought I was going to throw up all over the place. Between the porter and Jo (my wife) they managed to get me into the car.
The ride home is not too far but I was deteriorating at a rapid rate of knots. Got home, Jo managed to get me onto her “throne” where I just passed out.
Through the rest of the day and night I remember fleeting moments of being awake. Couldn’t move, didn’t know what was going on. Basically, a vegetable on the couch.
The next morning Jo realized that this wasn’t good. Somehow or other she managed to bundle me into the car. I have a memory of the gardener holding the car door open with a look of concern on his face. The next thing I was on a gurney at the hospital with Debbie staring at me. Debbie is Jo’s business partner and one of my best friends.
Tests and more tests.
Somehow or other I had picked up Bacterial Meningitis.
Jo had literally just saved my life. A few hours later and it wouldn’t have turned out well.
Some serious antibiotics and medication I can’t even pronounce later, my infection levels started coming down, but the headaches wouldn’t go away. Back into the noisy tube for some more scans. Was good to see all the guys and gals in radiology again.
Crap balls I had a rupture in the thecal sac. Basically, it’s a sac that runs up your spine and over the brain. The sac contains cerebrospinal fluid. When leaking the sac “collapses” on the brain causing insane headaches, headaches that are just next level. Think migraine on steroids.
Back into theatre to patch up the leak.
Once again, they opened me up on the same incision. Success at last, once again freedom day arrived and was bundled into the wheelchair again and back into the car.
Was great to be home with the animals for sure. Jo had made a bed for me in the lounge as walking at this point just really wasn’t an option. To say I was tender would be a bit of an understatement.
A day later, I got this incredible pain down my left leg. Kinda like being hit with a cattle prodder. I remember screaming as the first one hit. Absolute agony, pain like I had never felt. It would last for about 30 seconds but in that time, I couldn’t move a finger for fear of escalating the pain. I just screamed and screamed. Over the next two days, it got worse and more frequent.
This was an incredible low point. I remember crying like a baby. I was emotionally drained by this time. I remember thinking I just want to be normal again. Remember, I can hardly walk, can’t even get down on the toilet to take a dump. I hadn’t had a shit for as long as I can remember.
My wife was washing me and dressing me. It was taking its toll.
This carried on for two days until it got to a point where I just couldn’t move.
An ambulance and crew had to come and peel me off the couch eventually. They dosed me up, got a stretcher underneath me and carried me out to the ambulance.
Jesus, what the fuck!! But hey, could be worse…right?
Back to my favorite people with the noisy machine. Hi everyone, true as nuts I’m back. Another scan revealed that the crushed bone material that they place between your vertebrae was leaking out and catching the nerve going down my leg.
Another twirl in theatre to clean up the debris, by this time the clock on the wall and I were good friends. I used to watch the seconds tick by as the anesthetic started kicking in. I woke up from here being wheeled into high care. Now I have to tell you this was by far my worst experience.
The following morning two nurses came to wash me. I was in absolute agony and they kept moving me and turning me. I was screaming in absolute agony, but they wouldn’t stop and no-one came to help me. To this day I can’t understand it.
Couldn’t wait to get out of there and back on to a ward. Or so I thought…
From there they wheeled me into an isolation ward. Apparently, I had picked up the dreaded hospital Super bug. My infection count was in the 400’s (8 being normal) and to make matters worse, the headaches were back. I had sprung another fucking leak in my Thecal sack. FUCK!!!
Back to my old friend on the wall with the ticking second hand. Again, opening me up on the same line. This time I wasn’t friends with the clock on the wall.
Dave patched me up as best they could.
What the actual…
My new home turned out to be a glass box in the ICU. In isolation in intensive care. Jesus, this isn’t good.
Nurse and doctors were putting gear on to come into the glass box. “What’s going on???”
Machines were everywhere beeping and hissing. “Fuck me, this isn’t good.”
Waking up at 4am with people sticking needles into you to draw blood loses its shine after a while. I think all I ate for the two weeks was watermelon in the morning that Debbie used to bring me with a cup of coffee. When I say bring, I really mean bribe the porter.
 Now you must remember I have basically been bedridden for 6 weeks and not had an appetite at all.
I could see the concern on peoples face when they came to visit, as much as they tried to hide it, it was there.
Nights were the worst and the tears used to flow. So as not to let the pressure in the Thecal sac become too great, they drained it every few hours. This as I’ve said to you before brings on insane headaches.
Morphine and I were no longer friends. It made me incredibly sad and depressed.
I came off the morphine by choice and gritted the teeth. Absolutely worth the pain.
 Lester and Marco organized a live feed for me for the warmup session before the SA Kneeboarding Champs. What legends.
Once again, I cried like a baby, but these were tears of joy. It was so good to watch my mates surfing and everyone saying “hi” on the feed made me feel like a million bucks. The brotherhood is strong here in Cape Town. Love these boys.
 At this point I was literally skin and bone, but my infection levels were coming down and I had managed to get out of bed and make the few steps to the toilet. The sun was definitely coming up for me. For the first time in a long time, I thought I was going to make it.
Fuck, the thought of dying in that glass box haunted me every night there.
Freedom day was like no other. Getting out of there into the sunshine and colors and breeze was a sensory overload, but hey, I was out and feeling good…ish.
 My mates, Debbie and Sian had kept me going. Sian is my office manager and best friend.
She tried to feed me all the way through to no avail, true as nuts she used to arrive with bags of food.
 God it was good to be home.
Reality starts to kick in pretty quickly. Fuck me am I ever going to be able to surf again, am I ever going to be able to sit on the toilet again (it’s the little things hahaha…)
Time to reset the mind from “fuck me, I don’t want to die in here to I need to get in the water again”.
 Enter the amazing Lara, the physio that is a gift from the angels. I remember that late December day shuffling and shaking my way into her office. By this time, all my muscles had wasted away and just holding my frame up was as much as I could muster. I could do about 2 minutes before all my muscles started shaking from fatigue and I was still shuffling like a mummy.
The question Lara asked me off the bat was “what do you want to get out of this.”
“Just get me back in the water please,” was my response.
At this point it was a fantasy I had to believe in, physically I was a mess, but I think mentally I was scarred and the mental trauma was real. But fuck it, if I could survive that, I can achieve anything. The will to get back in the water was incredible and became all consuming.
 Walking around the house became my exercise routine initially and braai tongs my best friend (in case I dropped stuff as bending was not an option). I had to hold on to everything at first as I walked along, eventually I could skip the kitchen counter on the way to the TV room and skip the chairs on the way to my room, and so it went on until I could just about walk the whole house without holding or resting.
 Lara had given me gentle low impact stuff to do, just to tone the muscles and stretches to get some life back in the buggers. Everything hurt. This was a continuous process that I did all day every day for a few weeks. I was starting to feel more stable on my feet which did wonders for my mental wellbeing. Progress was gradual but I started noticing results which made me feel like a million dollars.
 Getting behind the wheel again was a massive boost for me. My buddy Kante who is a running coach, walked with me from my local to St James, what a joy being next to the ocean again, mind surfing every bump that came through. I steadily built this up over time. Eventually I could make it to Muizenberg and back (5 kms). Everything ached at this point and the thought of shortening every walk was ever present. 4am wake ups every day can be a challenge and for sure there were mornings I couldn’t bear the thought of getting up. Sore back, sore hips, it’s dark and it’s cold, fuck this shit. On the odd occasion that I didn’t manage to get going, that feeling of worthlessness would set in. What the fuck is wrong with you, don’t you want to get back in the water? That’s not a cool feeling. I have probably missed 3 days in the six months I have been rehabbing. A 45-minute 5km walk followed by an hour of rehab back at home. I can’t begin to count the many lonely hours I have spent in the dark, walking and processing thoughts and priorities.
 My weekly visits to Lara are always a highlight. My flexibility is measured as well as my strength. Some weeks just like some days are better than others. Lately there are a few moments of some days that I am totally pain free. These can quickly be followed by days and moments of crappy pain, but I will take the good ones for sure. Setbacks some and it’s natural to be bummed by them. Thinking “end goal” always helps. Watching Billy Kemper’s story after that crazy injury in Morocco has inspired me tremendously and there is a kinship that forms in adversity.
To keep the spirits up, I have ordered me a new board from Nick (Kneeon) which should arrive any day.
Jedd has also shaped me a 5’4 twinny that looks more like something that should be flying in space rather than the water. Can’t wait to get these beauties wet.
 The daily grind continues relentlessly and it’s not always easy to appreciate the reasons for the dark hours one spends with oneself on the rehab trail. I want the prize now. Sheesh, it’s a constant battle upstairs. Here’s the weird thing, the closer I get to the end of April (paddle out day…hopefully), the more fearful I become. Will I be able to, and can I still?
All this and more just keeps swimming in the head and there’s the self-doubt.
Fuck it’s terrifying.
I have gone over it a million times in my head, do I just paddle out at a gentle beach break and see how it goes. Na, that scares me more. Soft waves are hard work and the amount of torque on the spine terrifies me. What if the nuts and bolts pop out?
There is no way in hell I am going back to that building with the big red cross on it. This drives me harder for sure back on the road, back to the floor and core exercises.
Lara assures me the hyperextension of the back I have obtained through this time will definitely be fine for paddling.
The torque and pressure on the lower back coming off the bottom and turning off the top, is what scares the crap out of me. The reef and I are intimate, god knows I have bounced and scraped along her so many times. I have certainly paid my dues.  
Wiping out doesn’t scare me, it’s that word again “TORQUE”.
Perhaps I will just go straight on the first few. That in itself presents a bit of a problem at the local, but that’s where my head is.
I know you will all understand this, “what if a section just presents itself, just asking to be slapped”.
It is so ingrained in each and every one of us, that muscle memory just takes over. Going to have to be ever vigilant.
I have swum out to the peak just to be out there with the guys. The first time was not great. It took me so long just to get to the water. Jumping off the railway line so not an option. Doing the walk around and trying to get over the rocks was tricky to say the least.
Feeling the water over my feet was an absolute delight, but crap balls, had the water got colder since the last time? As soon as I laid in the water, it dawned on me that this is going to be quite the journey.
I couldn’t swim on my stomach as the pain was intense, but fuck it, I was going out. I swam on my side and back. Eventually I made it, the guys cheered and whooped, I felt like I had just won the lottery.
It was so good to be part of the conversation out there again, it was so good to hear how stoked the guys were for me, life was good.
I fed off this like I had been starved of life for ages.
 Today being the Saturday before the Wednesday that I go back to Dave (the surgeon), brings turmoil to my emotions.
I’m not sure what I am scared of more, being told you aren’t ready or yeah, go get in the water. I am so scared of not surfing to my full potential again. Every day closer brings more panic. I just want it to be over now.
 Wednesday morning dawned (but not really), up at 4am and back on the road. Usually, I am thinking about the workday ahead but this morning not so much.
My head is swimming with what ifs. What if there is still something wrong, what if I can’t anymore, what if, what if…
On the drive to see Dave, the surgeon, my heart is beating at a million beats/minute.
It’s good to see Dave again in a weird type of way, he really is a very cool guy.
Anyhow, he sends me off for some more pictures of the spine. Gotta say I was staring at the radiologist for some clues, but nothing.
The stress is killing me, and I feel like my heart is going to jump out of my chest.
So, back up to Dave with the thumping heart, I can hear it in my ears.
It all looks brilliant mate. What… I could not believe what I was hearing. He took me through the X-rays explaining what he was looking for and everything was just right.
There’s no use putting off the inevitable he says to me, go get in the water…but don’t be stupid. I wanted to scream it to the world!
Obviously, the doubts started kicking in hard right about now, but hey, I had gotten the green light.
Thursday morning I was off to Lara for physio. I couldn’t wait to tell her the good news. The muscles on the left side of my back had been in spasm for two weeks now, so as thrilled as she was, there was the don’t be stupid again.
I had coached myself in my mind for months now, high tide, small waves and just go straight…right.
 Friday morning and the reports started coming in. There’s a bit of a wave at the local.
“It’s go time.” With my heart in my mouth, I started packing the car.
Sweet Lord, it had been a while, I had to keep double checking I had everything packed.
I don’t think I noticed any other cars on the way, I was mind surfing all the way through to the local.
I got there a few hours before the high just to get my head straight and check the lineup.
There were some chunky 4 footers coming through, but I wanted some more water on the rock. I watched my mate Dave paddle out and get some screamers.
Steve finally arrived, “I thought you would be in your suit already” he says.
This is it, heart in the throat again, off we went.
Sheesh it was so good to feel the waves crashing over my feet and legs again.
Jumped on my board and started paddling.
Woooohoooo absolutely no pain. Got out to the takeoff zone and everyone was cheering and welcoming me back. How humbling.
Mickey Duffus, a local big wave legend was out. Everybody back off he bellowed, this man hasn’t surfed for 6 months.
For some reason, this made me relax and just enjoy the moment.
Something started standing up out the back, Steve was sitting in the channel waiting for me to have my first ride.
“You going Mick?” I heard someone ask.
Yip I heard coming out my mouth, I spun and went.
Muscle memory and familiarity with the wave kicked in. I made the drop…Fuck I couldn’t believe it came around the section and just flopped off my board.
Steve and Dave had the biggest smile on their faces. The emotion of the occasion just swept over me like a wave, and the tears started flowing. All I kept thinking about was lying in ICU thinking fuck, I don’t want to die in here to taking off on the first wave.
Well, for the rest of the session, I absolutely sent it, trying to take off as deep as possible on the gnarliest set waves. All the coaching I had done in my head for the last few months went straight out the window.
In for a penny, in for a pound.
 Damn, I felt so alive, without a doubt, the happiest man on the planet. When I got back to the car park, all of the Kneelo crew were in the car park and boy were they happy for me.
Sean Thompson was there too, shooting my waves and recording the moment.
How blessed am I. Nothing was getting the smile off my face.
 When I lay in bed that night, I kept thinking of the months of rehab and hard work I had gone through. The many lonely dark hours of the mornings, but I had done it.
 The next morning, we were on it at first light with the Westside boys coming through as well. The Kneelo brotherhood in Cape Town is tight. I am so humbled by all the good wishes and thoughts from everyone.
Just want to mention Lester, who kept me sane in the last two months. We chatted every day for the last while, sometimes a few times in a day. He kept me motivated and hungry and for this I will be forever grateful.
There are so many people to thank for getting me through this period. I think you know who you are, and I will get to everyone individually.
It’s good to get wet again.
I started writing this piece to help anyone in similar circumstances.
Stick with your plan and give it everything no matter how hopeless your situation may seem.
At the end of the day this was such a therapeutic exercise for me. Something I didn’t expect.
The trauma was and is real and this has certainly helped me face it and deal with it.
If this helps even one person get over and through a rough period of hopelessness, its job done.
Mickey Kirsten
Legless Contributor
SA Kneelos
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artificialqueens ¡ 5 years ago
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(Your Body Is) Out of this World (Shalaska) - Citrus
A/N: thank u to Mistress for beta-ing and subsequently bullying me into posting this
Summary: Dr. Sharon Needles is assigned to examine the newest alien arrival on their interstellar compound. Things do not go as she planned. Smut, 3.9k words.
Sharon had never seen a specimen like this before, and she’d been working at this facility for six years. Sure, the infinite expanse of space was filled with any number of cosmic horrors, and she’d seen quite a few of its offerings, but she’d never encountered anything like this.
Looking through the shielded glass of the MRI room for the first time, she’d been astounded. Inside was a humanoid that resembled Sharon’s own race in all of the fundamental ways, but was decidedly different in others. This alien looked like, well, what an alien in a video game would look like; a feminine figure with impossible proportions, yet still enough to appear human to an extent. She was long-legged and a little gangly, but not skin-and-bones; clearly there was strong muscle and soft fat beneath her shimmering blue-green skin. Her eyes were almost completely black, and when the alien had turned to make eye contact with Sharon, she’d looked away.
A Glamtr0nian. Their planet was shrouded in mystery, its people renowned for their incredible beauty, but not much was known about their physiology. Their concept of gender was beyond the realm of human imagination, but this particular one had disclosed an identification somewhere close to the human concept of womanhood, and had expressed consent toward being referred to as a “she.”
Now it was exam day. Sharon would be conducting a physical examination of the facility’s first Glamtr0nian specimen. She adjusted her glasses nervously as she stepped in front of the exam room door, pressing her palm against the scanner and waiting for her entrance permissions to clear. The doors slid open to reveal a second set of doors, a security measure in the event that specimens attempted to make an escape. It didn’t happen often, but it was a nice precaution to have. The outer doors would be secured by armed guards as well, if Sharon needed backup or found herself in a volatile situation.
The doors opened, and Sharon stepped inside. The alien was waiting for her, sitting on the exam table and showing no signs of distress and looking, for all intents and purposes, fairly comfortable. Her long, silvery-blonde hair was no longer piled into two buns on the top of her head like it had been when she’d arrived, but was now brushed back into a sleek, shiny ponytail. Her eyes were still black as night, but her makeup was definitely toned down, as if she was barely wearing any at all. A little hesitantly, Sharon stepped forward to conduct her first test: ensuring that the alien’s translation chip had been upgraded when she arrived at their facility.
“Can you understand me?”
Turning her head at the sound of Sharon’s voice, the Glamtr0nian looked at her and nodded.
“I was getting bored in here. It’s kind of unnerving to have all of these medical instruments around me, you know.”
“I understand, sorry about that,” Sharon smiled. “My name is Dr. Needles, I’ll be performing your examination today. Do you use a name?”
“Princess Alaska Joanne Elizabeth Thunderfuck 5000 of the planet Glamtr0n. Alaska is fine, or Your Highness if you’re kinky. So what’ll you be doing to me today, Doc Needles? That’s a fitting name, by the way.”
Sharon flushed, but tried not to let it affect her. “It’s just a routine physical exam. Making sure you’re healthy and figuring out what you need in order to design an ideal habitat.”
“You make me sound like a zoo animal,” Alaska grumped. “You’re not gonna put me on display, are you?”
Sharon shook her head, taken aback. “Not at all. This is just protocol while our engineering team works on repairing your spacecraft. It would be rude to stick you in a hotel room that was badly-suited for your particular needs.”
“Oh, that’s fine then,” Alaska said, sounding relieved. “I got kinda worried when they made me do all those MRIs and x-rays and stuff. The translation chip upgrade was cool though, I needed the newest language expansion. Thanks for that.”
“I’ll let Dr. West know you appreciate it,” Sharon smiled. “Are you ready to begin?”
“Do your worst.”
They went through a few of the simpler tests, like necessary air components and temperature preference, before moving on to diet and physical activity requirements. It turned out that Glamtr0nians were incredibly adaptable, to an extent that Sharon had never seen before, and their ability to shapeshift made it much easier to assimilate to any environment that they needed to.
“Are you comfortable if we move on to a more… private portion of the exam?”
“How private are we talking, Doc?” Alaska asked with a smirk. “You gonna probe me?”
Sharon blushed. “Not quite. If you’re comfortable doing so, I’d like to ask you to disrobe and allow me to record your body’s reactions to some simple tests.” Alaska’s robe was gone before she’d even finished her sentence, and she blushed even deeper at the sight of what was essentially a naked blue-green woman in front of her, covered only by a flashy silver thong.
“I thought you’d never ask. That thing was driving me insane.”
“Really? Was the fabric uncomfortable to you?“ That would be an interesting thing to make note of, for the sake of future patients.
“The fabric was fine, it was just so loose. I prefer to wear things with a much tighter fit, or nothing at all. Personal preference. Now you can test away.” She crossed her legs and leaned back on her palms, those dark eyes looking right at Sharon with such intensity that she thought she might melt. But she had a job to do, and dammit, she was going to do it.
Sharon took a reflex hammer from the table and checked Alaska’s reflexes, which were a little faster than a normal human’s but generally pretty normal. Taking her stethoscope from around her neck, she placed it on Alaska’s bare chest and waited, trying not to be a perv by looking at her perky breasts, though they were difficult to ignore.
“Very weak heartbeat…” she mumbled to herself, and Alaska giggled.
“It’s on the other side. Here,” she said, placing her hand over Sharon’s and guiding it to the right side of her chest. Sharon tried her hardest not to blush.
“Right. Is this a normal resting heart rate for you?"
"It’s a little higher,” Alaska answered, and Sharon looked at her, curious.
“Is this exam making you nervous?"
"Sure,” the alien replied, “Let’s go with that.”
Seemingly oblivious, Sharon continued. “I hate to ask this, but how’s your sexual health?”
“I’d say it’s just fine,” Alaska purred. “I assume this is all protocol?”
“Yeah, I have to go through this part just to make sure there’s no risk of any kind of outbreak in the compound. Who you choose to engage with isn’t our business, we just don’t want anything to spread– Not that I’m implying that you have anything,” she added, blushing. “It’s just precautionary.”
“I didn’t think you were,” Alaska said. “As far as I’m aware, I’m not carrying anything. I get tested regularly.”
Sharon copied that down in her notes. “That makes my job a lot easier. Are you sexually compatible with members of species outside your own?”
“Very.” Alaska smirked. “I’d say almost universally.”
“Really?” Sharon found herself blushing again. “You have that in common with humans, then.”
“Oh, I know,” Alaska answered, giving her gorgeous doctor a once-over. Were humans exceptionally dense, or was this one just not catching onto her advances? She was beginning to get frustrated with Sharon’s apparent lack of interest. Then again, she was doing that thing where her cheeks turned all pink and she radiated warmth, which was kind of adorable. “I’ve been told that humans are the most compatible species with my own. Sexually, at least. Especially the brunettes.”
“Why is that?”
Alaska bit her lip, gazing into the doctor’s eyes. “You know, for a doctor, you’re really kind of dumb.”
“Why would you think th– oh. Oh.” Sharon took a few steps back, blushing even harder than before. “Have you been-”
"Hitting on you this whole time? Yes. Kinda wish we’d met under different circumstances, not as a doctor and patient, because you’re very attractive and I’d like to have wildly kinky interspecies sex with you.”
This was, surprisingly, not the first time an alien had hit on Sharon during an exam. However, she’d be a liar if she said she wasn’t attracted to this particular alien, and it had taken her much longer than usual to catch on to Alaska’s flirting. Come to think of it, she’d been feeling rather warm since she first entered the room… Had she just been repressing her desire this entire time? It definitely sounded like something she would do.
“You know, I think I’ve written down everything you need to be comfortable in your section of the compound,” she said slowly, looking into Alaska’s inky-black eyes. “We could always save the regular checkup for another time.”
Alaska’s eyes widened as she realized what Sharon was doing, and her cheeks turned a delicate shade of turquoise. “You’re right. After all, they’ll probably be repairing my ship for a while…"
"I’d say a few weeks at least,” Sharon agreed.
"Right. Complex craft, that one is.”
“We have plenty of time for a follow-up exam.”
“Plenty.”
“I’m sure both of us have other things we could be doing with our time.”
“Oh, I can think of a few.”
“Yeah?”
“Mm-hmm. And if you don’t put your mouth on my mouth in the next ten seconds, I think I’ll explode.”
They had been inching closer to one another throughout this exchange, but when Alaska begged to be kissed, Sharon’s composure was finally broken. She leaned against the exam table, capturing Alaska’s lips with her own and letting out a surprised whine when Alaska’s tongue was much longer than she’d expected. Fuck, she’d give anything for that tongue between her legs…
“You’re so sexy,” Sharon mumbled against the alien’s plush lips, her hands moving from the exam table to rest on Alaska’s thighs. They were slightly cooler than Sharon’s own body temperature, and impossibly soft and smooth; her skin was almost comparable to silicone in its texture, but wondrously alive. “God, I want you so bad.” As her right hand moved to Alaska’s inner thigh, her fingertips brushed against the thin strap of her thong. “Can I touch you?”
“Fuck yes,” Alaska breathed, her dark eyes half-lidded with lust. When Sharon cupped her and then froze, she looked up at the doctor with confusion. “What’s wrong?”
“Sorry, I-” Sharon blushed and withdrew her hand. “I didn’t think to ask what… what you had going on down there. I guess I just assumed it was as humanoid as the rest of you.” She bit her lip, trying not to turn an even deeper shade of red as she looked up at Alaska. When she’d touched her, she’d felt a distinct bulge, and she was both curious and turned on by whatever was hidden by Alaska’s silvery underwear.
The alien smiled coyly. “Do you want to see?” Wordlessly, Sharon nodded and took a step back to allow her patient-turned-paramour to stand. Alaska hooked her fingers under the straps of her flimsy undergarment and pulled them over her hips, sliding her panties off completely and setting them on the exam table. She hopped up onto the table once more and spread her legs, giving Sharon full view of just what she was working with.
It was like nothing Sharon had ever seen. Confirming her suspicions that Alaska was completely hairless from the neck down, the alien was bare and wet, her dewy folds all but dripping with a bright blue fluid that seemed to give off a light of its own. It looked remarkably like what Sharon expected from an alien pussy, but the star of the show made itself obvious in the place where Alaska’s clit would be, had she been human. Though blue-green like the rest of her skin and shaped somewhat oddly with a tapering tip, it was unmistakably a penis, and it was leaking the same luminous fluid as her pussy– or perhaps it had dripped down, Sharon wasn’t sure.
“Fuck. Wow."
Alaska’s external member twitched and she bit her lip, flustered. "Is that a good ‘fuck, wow’ or a bad one?"
"Definitely good,” Sharon breathed, “Holy shit.”
“Do you still want to-"
”Yes,“ Sharon interrupted her, stepping between her legs again. "I want you. Fuck.”
Alaska smiled, clearly relieved. “Y'know, Dr. Needles, you’re wearing an awful lot of clothing right now…” She tugged at the lapels of Sharon’s labcoat, teasing. “C'mon, I showed you mine…”
Sharon grinned at her and began to undress, taking her time as she stripped down to her bra and panties. With every article of clothing she removed, she watched Alaska’s member grow a little stiffer; by the time she unclipped her bra, Alaska had grown several times her original size and was dripping all over her thighs and the exam table.
“You’re so hot, come here,” she whined, reaching out for the doctor and letting out a soft moan when Sharon moved closer, one hand skimming the alien’s slender waist. “Fuck, I didn’t think a strip tease could make me so wet.”
“That’s what that is, huh?” Sharon smirked, gesturing to the little luminescent mess Alaska had made.
“Whaaat, you’ve never seen Glamtr0nian precum?” Alaska whined, clearly desperate for some kind of action. “You wanna touch me, or are you gonna make me suffer forever?"
Sharon eyed Alaska’s pulsing member, a little apprehensive. "It’s not corrosive, is it?"
"Not to humans. I’ve been told it tastes like candy, too.”
“Well now you’re just lying to me so I’ll go down on you,” Sharon laughed. “What do you call it, anyway? Your… external part, I mean.”
“Same as you,” the alien shrugged. “On Glamtr0n we all have a pussy and a cock. It’s super easy for us to fuck,” she added with a giggle. “We’re kinda stretchy and can take a lot more than it looks like. But that’s not really relevant here.”
“And why’s that?” Sharon challenged.
Alaska gave her a look, and she withered almost immediately. “Because it’s so obvious that you want me inside you,” she answered as if Sharon had already known. And, to be fair, she had a point. Sharon definitely wanted Alaska’s alien cock to rearrange her gastrointestinal structures, but she wasn’t going to admit that out loud. Yet.
“You think so?” Sharon teased, stealing a kiss. “You’ve already made a mess of yourself, and you expect me to believe that you won’t blow your load the second you’re inside me?”
Alaska chased the doctor’s lips, running her hands down Sharon’s chest and squeezing her breasts. Fuck, she was so warm and soft and human. “I guess that’s up to you… Are you gonna let me fuck you so you can find out?” She trailed a palm down Sharon’s body to cup her over her panties, and smirked when she felt that they were wet. “You’re a bold talker for someone who’s dripping just as much as I am, Dr. Needles.”
“I think you owe me a favor for making a mess of my exam table,” Sharon breathed, her eyes dark and wide as Alaska’s long fingers pressed against her. “Don’t you?”
“Oh, you’re right, I’m terribly sorry for that,” the alien princess smirked. Just like that, her fingertips had grown talon-like nails, and she used them to slice away the straps of Sharon’s panties; as soon as the wet fabric hit the floor, Alaska’s hands were back to normal, pressing between the doctor’s folds and feeling how wet she truly was.
“Could’ve warned me before you did that,” Sharon said, but it was clear from her tone that she wasn’t upset at all, and rather more turned on because of it. “Oh, fuck.” Alaska’s fingers had found her entrance and a long, slender digit curled inside her, deeper than she’d ever been touched before. Alaska smirked, cupping Sharon’s cheek with her other hand and drawing her in for a kiss.
“You’re so warm… and Goddess, so fucking tight…” Her voice was low and sultry, even more so than before, and Sharon felt weak in her embrace. “I’ll have to be nice and slow with you… Make sure you can take me…”
“You’re evil,” Sharon whined as a second finger joined the first inside her, “You shouldn’t be able to make me feel this fucking good.”
Alaska laughed. “No? Would you like me to stop, then?”
“Don’t you fucking dare,” Sharon growled, clenching down on Alaska’s fingers and enjoying the alien’s soft gasp of surprise. “God, fuck, you’re so good.”
“You swear a lot,” Alaska grinned, feeling blindly with her thumb for the little bud that she knew resided in the place where her own cock would be. When she found it, Sharon all but whimpered, falling forward to lean against her lover’s chest for support as she worked her magic.
“Holy shit.”
“Should we change positions? I don’t want you hurting yourself,” Alaska asked, a wicked glimmer in her eye. Sharon nodded, and allowed the alien to gently maneuver her body so that she was leaning against the exam table, her legs spread just enough for Alaska to kneel between them.
“Fuck.” Sharon had wanted Alaska between her legs, and now it was happening.
The alien kissed Sharon’s thighs, remembering that humans liked it when their skin was marked up, and sucked a hickey or two into the soft flesh. Her long tongue flicked upwards, tasting the wetness that had gathered on Sharon’s folds and stifling a moan at the taste of her. “Fuck, I’ll never get tired of human pussy,” she mumbled into Sharon’s thigh, causing the doctor to giggle and blush. “You’re so fucking wet.” Her tongue slid between Sharon’s lips again, lapping at her pussy eagerly as she listened to her soft moans of pleasure. Daringly, she teased at Sharon’s entrance before darting inside and tasting her deeply, and the human woman let out a cry.
“Oh my fucking god!” Alaska was every lesbian’s wet dream, and Sharon could hardly believe she had such a gorgeous and talented woman between her thighs. “Shit, you’re so good,” she whined as that impossibly long tongue fluttered over her clit and curled against her aching pussy. If she didn’t slow down soon, Sharon was going to make an embarrassing mess of herself.
“You taste so good, baby,” Alaska moaned, taking a moment to breathe. Sharon looked down at her, brushing a silver-blonde lock of hair away from her face where it had escaped her ponytail. Alaska’s cheeks were flushed and her eyes were half-lidded, and she looked absolutely debauched, like there was nowhere in the universe she’d rather be than on her knees between Sharon’s legs.
Sharon bit her lower lip, feeling her own face heat up. “You look so good like this.”
“Hardly royal behavior, is it?” Alaska breathed with a little chuckle. “On my knees pleasuring a commoner while I’m soaked and unfulfilled.” It was clear that she was being playful, but once glance at her dick made it obvious just how badly she needed to be touched.
“Come here,” Sharon said, pulling the alien princess to her feet and immediately wrapping her fingers around her weeping cock. Alaska gasped sharply, her hips thrusting against Sharon’s touch of their own accord as the doctor stroked her carefully. “Is this good?”
“So good,” Alaska whined, and Sharon tightened her grip, moving a little faster. She learned quickly that unlike humans, Alaska had more than one deeply sensitive spot; her base was just as sensitive as her tip, and when Sharon slipped two fingers into her pussy, she keened and squirmed. “You are fucking incredible,” the princess praised her, doing her best to fuck herself on Sharon’s fingers while also thrusting up into her hand. “You’ll kill me before I can cum.”
“Who says I’m going to let you cum?” Sharon teased her, laughing when Alaska let out a pathetic whimper. “I’m kidding, I promise. Although this angle is kind of awkward, so…” She pulled her fingers out of Alaska despite soft protesting from the alien, and settled for kissing her deeply instead.
Alaska’s fingers found Sharon’s clit, and their lips met once more as they pleasured one another. Sharon came first, whining and shaking against Alaska’s delicate touch, and the princess slipped out of her grasp to kneel between her legs again and clean her up. Sharon was almost painfully sensitive, so Alaska took care to be gentle with her, and kissed her hip sweetly before coming back up to kiss her on the mouth.
“You don’t have to do anything for me,” she breathed, batting Sharon’s hand away. “I’ll take care of myself.”
Sharon frowned, her mind still a little foggy from her orgasm. “You sure? I want you to feel good…”
Alaska smiled. “It’s okay. I’m kind of messy when I cum…”
“I think we’ve made a mess already,” Sharon laughed, looking around the exam room at the disarrayed tables, piles of clothing, and little puddles of fluid (mostly Alaska’s). “I’ve never seen a girl get as wet as you do.”
The alien blushed. “It’s just how our bodies work… We’re really sexual beings, we like to be ready for anything.”
“I don’t mind the mess,” Sharon smiled, stealing another kiss. “You sure you don’t wanna finish inside me?” she asked, trying to tempt her lover into another round.
Alaska bit her lip, clearly considering the offer. “I don’t think you wanna risk an interspecies pregnancy this early in our relationship,” she grinned. “I’ll try not to make too much of a mess, I promise.”
“God, just let me touch you,” Sharon pleaded, and Alaska laughed aloud. She turned her back on Sharon, leaning against her chest as her hand moved down to begin pumping herself. “How’s this?” The question came out breathier than she’d meant it to, but she could hardly be blamed for being so fucking close already; Dr. Sharon Needles was magic.
Sharon’s hands roamed over her waist and hips before moving up to knead her breasts, peppering kisses over her shoulders and neck. One hand slid between her legs, fingers pressing up inside her and moving in time with her sloppy hand movements. “This is perfect. Cum for me, baby.”
Alaska let out a low cry, cumming into her fist and around Sharon’s fingers in an explosive release of that luminous fluid, now thicker and glowing even brighter than before. Sharon’s hand, Alaska’s thighs, and the floor of the exam room were a mess, but Sharon really couldn’t bring herself to care when she had a panting, writhing alien princess pressed against her, letting out silent sobs of pleasure as she came down.
“T-told you I was messy,” Alaska managed to say, all but collapsing against Sharon’s chest. The doctor smiled, pressing a warm, liquid kiss against Alaska’s neck.
“Yeah. You’re so pretty when you cum.”
Alaska blushed cerulean. “You think so?”
“Well, you’re pretty no matter what you’re doing. But even prettier when you’re like this.” Sharon pulled her fingers out of the alien princess and turned her so that they were facing one another. “We should probably clean up, huh?”
Alaska smiled, leaning forward to kiss Sharon deeply.
“Yeah. We probably should.”
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xhomeless-ghostx ¡ 5 years ago
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And I’ll be your Honey -Eugene x reader (Animal crossing: New Horizons)
My very first animal crossing fic, let alone my very first character x reader fic 👀 I dont know how long this will be, but I already have the second chapter started hehe. I hope you enjoy!
...
Your day starts off with the usual morning announcements, if you could even call them that. Isabelle usually rambled on about her hobbies, or about the TV show that was on last night instead of reporting actual news. You enjoyed listening to her talk though, She's always so busy being cooped up in that resident services building. It seems like the announcements are the only way she can actually express herself for a bit.
Your house was rather close to the resident services building, so you could hear the announcements loud and clear from your bed. You might have to talk about moving with Tom nook, countless times the loud speaker has woken you up, but then again listening to Isabelle made you smile, but not when it startled you out of your deep slumber.
The sunshine dripped into your room, casting beams of light onto the pictures you owned of your friends. You sat up sluggishly, the covers falling from your shoulders and revealing your skin to the cold air. You felt a shiver shoot down your spine, and goosebumps emerge on your skin, So you quickly covered yourself again. The summer heat was killer outside, so you kept it at a solid 68 degrees inside. You laid there curled up in your blankets, trying to get warm. After a few minutes of burrowing like a hamster, you sat up holding the blankets close to your body. It dawns on you that you should check the time, so you pull out your phone. It’s noon, and you’re slapping yourself mentally because you slept in so late. The day was still young, but you just like the feeling of getting up early.
You stared off into the distance as you pondered about what you could do today. Perhaps you would finally work on getting bells, after all you’re impatient and would rather spend all your bells on a new bridge rather than waiting for donations. Or maybe, you’d go harass your neighbors to hang out. That sounds more enjoyable than slaving over a workbench, crafting the hot item that was selling for double that day. You made up your mind and stood up, grabbing some clothes, waking to the bathroom. As soon as you got to your sink, You received a text from a certain koala.
——————
Hey (y/n)! Today it’s gonna be another day in paradise, meaning it’s gonna be nice out. We should hang out, and enjoy the weather together..!
You smiled down at your phone, and giggled. It Seems like Eugene already had plans for hanging out with you today, which sent a surge of excitement down to your stomach, giving you butterflies. Never before have you had someone who would put as much effort into hanging out with you than Eugene. For having such a “cool” persona, he was quite the sweetheart.
———————
Okay!! lemme get ready. Where are we meeting at?
How does the cherry tree by the river sound? We can pick some cherries and share em.
Okay, sounds good!!! I’ll be there shortly :)
Sick, see you then!!
———————
You rush out the door, and the outside world welcomes you with a breeze, followed by warm rays from the sun. You inhale the fresh air of the island, and exhale peacefully.
When you were younger, you’d always visit an island and go on tours there, but instead of taking a plane you took a small boat. Though, You’d never expect to be in charge of making a vacant island into a tourist attraction. So far, your island was rated four stars out of five, you were doing a damn good job of making the island enjoyable. All the residents seemed pleased as well.
You pulled out your phone and checked the map. You knew where the tree was, but you wanted the fastest route. You gazed upon the map for a second, and came up with a route that would take you directly there. And with that, you rushed off, pulling out your vaulting pole. As you casually jogged along the stone streets, the background changed into a large forested area, filled with your island’s native fruit. You ran alongside the river, startling the fish that were near the river bank. Since you scared all the fish away, a certain cranky wolf who was fishing had a bone to pick with you, but before they could catch you, you were gone.
As you neared, you could see Eugene standing up against the cherry tree, casually gazing upon the nearby rose garden. Eugene always had a way of looking attractive, even when it wasn’t intentional. As you sprinted towards him, Eugene got a glance of you and perked up, smiling in your direction. Seeing him look so happy made your chest swell up. You walked faster, beaming with eagerness to talk to him.
“It’s about time you showed up, yeah buddy.” The koala joked, smirking at you. You chuckled, and punched his shoulder gently.
“I had to pick out an outfit that looked good.” You replied, leaning up against the tree as well. You took a moment to catch your breath before shaking the tree, and collecting the cherries.
“After all, i can’t hang out with such a fashion icon such as yourself looking like a bum.” You grinned, popping a cherry into your mouth. You let yourself fall back onto the cherry tree, and relaxed.
Eugene chuckled, and glanced at you through his shades. You could never tell where he was looking, his sun glasses were tinted so darkly. But he had to hide those small peepers somehow. For a brief moment there was a pause, it was just you two staring at each other. Eugene really enjoyed talking to you, and in general just being around you. You felt the same exact way, what wasn’t there to love about him? Though half the time, you were afraid you’d do something uncool and mess up what you have with him. Ironically, he had the same fear. He wanted to impress you, so he did everything in his power to do so. In all honesty, he just liked doing nice things for you. seeing you happy made him feel peaceful. In the moment, it was just you two. He didn’t care about the gossip that was whispered about him, or the fact that someone pissed him off earlier that day. All his stress melted away with every minute you two were together.
“Ehh, I dunno doll, Compared to you I’m the bum. You’re always rocking some radical fit. Yeah buddy.” Eugene replied, taking a cherry from your hand and popping it into his mouth. After a few seconds of chewing, he turned his head and spit out the pit into the grass.
“You know, apples are good, but nothin beats fresh cherries. I’m glad you plucked some from your last trip, yeah buddy!” He exclaimed, grinning.
You chuckle, handing him the last cherry. Casually you shoved your hands into your pockets as you looked up to the sky.
“They really do hit the spot, eh?” You reply, gazing up at the clouds that passed overhead. “Hm, I still prefer apples tho.”
Eugene nodded his head. The koala pushed himself off the tree, took a few steps, and stood in front of you. He wasn’t very tall, but he still had some height on you. It was weird having a koala bear being taller than you, all the other ones you knew were either shorter, or the same height.
“Hey, I have an idea. Let’s uh, have a jam session at my place? Yeah buddy.” The koala suggested, hoping you’d agree.
a sudden surge of excitement rushed through you, and you instantly agreed. Usually this meant that Eugene would play his guitar for you, or one of his other instruments.
“Pshh, so much for enjoying the nice weather though.” You laugh, standing up straight.
“Well, we can still enjoy the weather from inside. That’s why we have windows!” Eugene smiled, motioning for you to lead the way to his house. Your smile grew wider as you rolled your eyes at his corny remark. Together you walked to his house, talking about who’s going to play their playlist first.
——————-
Forward to a few hours, and you guys are jamming out to some rock music, Specifically K.K. Rock. You watched as Eugene followed the song on his guitar, absolutely killing it. You relaxed on the couch with him, enjoying the moment.
“Where did you learn to play that so well?” You asked, in awe. You knew Eugene could play Instruments well, but you rarely got a personal show like this.
Eugene grew tense, and froze up.
“Well uh, I was in a band once. We were playing at house shows mostly, you know really underground type of stuff. We had a dramatic break up and everything, but me and the boys are still cool with each other, yeah buddy.” Eugene replied, not taking his eyes off of his guitar.
The song came to an end, but he continued to play. The melody slowly changed, becoming softer. You sat there and listened, staring up at the ceiling, totally being engulfed by the music. Nothing relaxed you more than listening to Eugene play, and he really appreciated that you enjoyed it so much. After all, what’s a musician without an audience?
“Huh, interesting...What position were you?” You asked, looking over at him. You were trying to make conversation, but you found it rather hard. You didn’t know the technical terms for the different positions in a band.
“It varied, I was either the lead singer or on the guitar when the main guy wasn’t able to play. Of course either way I killed my part.” He replied boldly, quickly pulling a cool pose next to you.
“Damn, it seems like you were really livin back then.” You said smiling, carefully watching him play.
He concluded his song, and set his guitar down. “Hey, you’re makin it seem like I’m some kinda retired old guy. I’m still the fresh and handsome koala I was back then!” he laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.
“I mean yeah I was livin, but I prefer the island life. I dunno, it’s more relaxing and chill, and it’s even better that you’re here.” He said, smirking at you. You blushed, and looked away Grinning. Eugene always had a knack for breaking your cool and collected attitude, and he enjoyed seeing the more soft and easily flustered side of you. Though, he was the same way. He could be really cool and slick, but if you got close enough with him, he was the biggest softie.
You let out a content sigh, and looked back at him. He was staring at you, his cheeks were colored a soft pink. It seemed like now was the perfect time to hit him with a flirty remark, a taste of his own medicine if you will. You smirk, and open your mouth.
“Hey, if you keep staring I’ll have to..” you freeze up, and your mind goes blank. Oh no, you couldn't come up with a good line. You’ve sent yourself to the embarrassment realm. Eugene quirks an eye brow, and smirks, you already knows he’s gonna say something that’s gonna end your whole career, and make you die of embarrassment.
“Oh? Whatcha gonna do, hotshot?” Eugene spoke smoothly, leaning in close to you. You could feel your face get really hot, but you were frozen in place. Oh god, his tone of voice killed you. You hated how smug he was, and how he knew what made you flustered. You shook your head, and laughed. “I don’t know, maybe I’ll fight you, and really give you something to stare at.” You sheepishly laughed, regretting even trying to be a flirt like Eugene.
“Psh, I’ll have you know I’ve starred in a lot of movies about fighting, so I know a couple of moves that would send you flyin, Yeah buddy.” He said standing up, and stretching.
“I mean..I’d send you flyin’, and I’d catch you with open arms. Smooth style baby!” Eugene said, grinning and striking a prideful pose.
You leaned back into the couch, and quickly replied with; “The only thing smooth here is your Brain!”
“Hey, a smooth brain to go with my smooth style; a match made in heaven, yeah buddy!”
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kpopisthereasonihavenolife ¡ 5 years ago
Text
TEASER
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Kim Namjoon/Reader [F]
Genre: fae au, fantasy/magic, oberon!namjoon, human!reader,  rebellion, angst, romance,
Warning(s)!!: violence/injuries, pollution?, corrupt gov., cursing, vomiting blood, nudity
Words: tbd
Series | One-shot | Two-shot | Drabble [Rated: T]
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a/n: i’ve been working on this story almost nonstop the past two days and it’s growing A LOT in length.  If it get too long then I may divide it into two parts (unless you guys want a monster lol). along with i’m debating on adding a couple scenes I didn’t originally attend to that may raise the rating >>’’ bUT that is still up in the air.  this story isn’t on a lot of people’s radar and ik that, but I’m so so so invest in this story rn it’s taken place as my main wip atm LOL.  I also am putting a lot of effort into proper world building and even if it’s tedious, i’m happy  so far uwu
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summary: A world were oceans never existed, but in its place were large and vast forests.  Covering 75% of the world’s surface, the seven deep forests were a mystery that no one could solve.  Treading too far in was forbidden by law, the forest too dangerous with unknown entities inside. Y/n knew better than to do something like go inside, but after a heist to stop the government from polluting the forests, things turn grim. She finds herself waking up in a place she doesn’t know with things far less human and far more magical than the world she’s used to. She finds herself being cared for by someone who claimed he can help her back to her home. Along the way, however, she may just learn something magical about herself that not even a King could have predicted.
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[TEASER W.COUNT: 1.4K]
You twitched as you sucked in a sharp breath.  Your body shivered lightly as you peeled open your eyes.  Your skin felt dry and patchy from the water that had dried onto your skin and the mud that dried into dirt and covered your exposed flesh.  Looking up, you only saw the dark sky with patches.  It looked cloudy as rays of faint light peeked through them. 
Wincing, you curled your body inwards and lifted your arms to try and cross over your stomach.  You moved just a moment before you were already exhausted and dropped your limbs back down.  You squinted upwards as your body ached.  The last thing you remembered was you had fallen into the river and slammed into a rock.  It explained your aching head and sore back.  Taking a breath, you moved to roll onto your side before you forced yourself to lever yourself onto your forearm.  
Your legs twisted as you then took sharp bursts of breath before pulling your legs up towards your chest.  Holding your body up with weak, shaking arms, you moved to your forearms and knees.  Hunched over, you breathed heavy and winced in pain.  Your head throbbed as you crawled forward and hooked your fingers onto a piece of a jutted out tree trunk.  
You tried to hoist yourself up to your feet by purely your upper arm strength, but quickly gave up with a shake of your head and a pain laced whine. 
Your bare toes scraped in the grass as dirt gathered under your toenails and your torn clothes threatened to snag in the tree trunk. Your hair matted on the back of your head as the water had weaved it into tangles that were begging to be brushed through. 
You kept your head held down as you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to gather every small piece of mental encouragement you could to get yourself up on your feet.  Mind over matter seemed to be harder than it had been in the past.  Biceps bulging and stomach tensing, you tried time after time to get your weak, shaking knees to hold up the rest of your body.  
Falling back to the dirt and into the trunk for the fifth time, you sat full down, feet trapped under your rear as your hands reached above your head, cursing yourself for being weak.  The wind picked up and the sounds it created made your skin prick with gooseflesh.  The trees moaned as the wind whispered and cried.  
For some reason, it was only when the wind spoke did you realize exactly where you were undoubtedly located.  Your weak grip on the trunk weakened further as your fingers trembled and your lip was sucked between your teeth.  Your body shook, but you couldn’t tell if it was due to the chilled air or the fear of being in a place you knew hardly anything of.  
You were lost somewhere in one of the deep forests and you couldn’t be more afraid.  
Hearing the crunching of leaves, you sucked in a breath and whipped your head up to look for danger around you and froze, seeing indeed something.  Directly in front of you was pure white with a stripe of red staring dead at you. Gasping you pushing yourself off the tree trunk and back onto your ass as your body acted purely on fleeing, dragging yourself through dirt and grass trying to back away from whatever was in front of you. 
A walking stick of wood at their side and a mask covering their face.  No shirt and only fur coating his waist and legs as he walked barefoot.  The grass beneath his feet seemed healthier and brighter than the rest around and you kept staring at the antlers branching out from the sides of his head.  
“No!” You breathed in fear as your body collapsed backward and you could only wave your arms around in a pathetic display of defense. “No, go away! Go away!” Your eyes stung as your panic clenched painfully in your chest as you grew more and more breathless.  Falling to your side, you curled up in terrified, painful trembles.  Your eyes were frozen open as you covered your face with your arms as you heard whatever it was come close to you.  You felt them at your back as they knelt.  You whimpered when it was silent and jumped when they touched your back. 
You gasped as you whipped your head to look back at them and you stilled.  Their hand on your back was warm and somehow, your trembling stopped.  They had set their walking stick aside on the ground as they traced their hand around the exposed skin of yours that your clothes showed. 
You weren’t sure why their touch seemed to calm you. You felt like an animal being tamed as your body seemed to relax.  They leaned over your body as they pulled you back on your back from your side and held your stomach down to keep you from acting up again.  
“Be calm,” they spoke.  A voice deep of a man that was smooth that made your cheeks redden. It was terribly seductive like nothing you've heard before.  Raising one hand to their mask, they pushed it up their forehead to rest it on their head and reveal their faces.  Your breath halted at this man’s beauty.  Skin smooth and decorated in golden freckles.  Eyes sparkling in a hue of the clearest blue and teeth white as snow with pointed canines. “I will not harm you unless you harm me.”  
This man was nothing like you. 
“I-I,” you couldn’t form words as you could only gaze at him.  His brows arched as he saw something in your human eyes.  He had been looking after your sleeping body for 2 days and he had plenty of time to inspect you.  Humans were far different than him.  Your eyes were astonishingly different from anything he’s ever seen, yet they were the most gorgeous.  Something in them zapped with an energy he’d seen only once before in one other being. 
“Can you stand?” He asked as you gasped again at your staring.  You looked at your legs as they twitched and you steeled yourself into pulling them up towards your chest again.  With the man’s help, you sat up and rubbed at your legs like they would help them hold your own weight.  “Do you know how to walk, human?” 
“Of course I do!” You screeched in an outburst that led to a coughing fit.  “O-of course I do,” you repeated.  “It’s just… difficult right now.” 
“What about your arms?” He asked. 
“Excuse me?” 
“Your arms.” He repeated. “Are they strong enough to hold your body?” 
“Well, I don’t know.” The man just remained silent as he moved in front of you.  He grabbed your wrists and lifted your arms up. Pulling you closer to him, you squawked when he turned himself around and pulled your arms over his shoulders.  Your chest pushed against his back before he put your palms together, encouraging you to clasp your hands.  He moved to grab the walking stick at his side before he started standing up. “Woah, hey, hey!” You panicked, unsure if you would be able to hold onto him and not slide back down off this back in a pathetic heep.  
You clutched your own hands at his chest, your arms looped around to his front tensing before he was standing tall.  His stick was placed under your rear, supporting you as he held it up under you like a seat.  Your weak legs dangling in front of him on either side of his naked waist. 
He hiked you up further on his back so your chin rested on his shoulder by his neck.  You could see the bone white antlers of his and see small engravings in them you didn’t notice before. His ears were slightly pointed and darkened at their point now that you saw them under his shaggy pitch-black hair.  He turned to look at you, his freckled face closer to yours and electric blue eyes freezing your breath. 
“I will take you someplace to recover.  The Leaflets will tend to your injuries.” He knocked his head forward, his mask falling back over his eyes and covering the top half of his face. He then began to walk forward.  You watched as he walked flawlessly over the grassy terrain and how grass would bloom under his steps only to wither the moment he lifts his foot up to step somewhere new. 
-x-x-x-
a/n: was that good enough as a teaser? I had so many places and scenes I could tease but I went with this one towards the beginning alksdfjad lmk if you’re excited to read this fic! (pls it’ll boost my morale LOL) 
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internallydeceased ¡ 5 years ago
Text
What Makes Us Human (I)
So this is a new au that I've been wanting to do for a while now. The diagnosis that Smokey receives is what my dog Mickey was recently diagnosed with in real life. I won't say what it is yet since I haven't revealed it in the story, but it's not good and I've been having to deal with the thought of losing him in the next few years or so. He's only eight. Another reason why I've been MIA is that I've been in one of the worst depressive relapses (including a lot of suicidal thoughts) of my life and his diagnosis hasn't helped any. On top of that I've had this cold for over two months which doesn't help either. (I've been to the doctor, they said I was fine). I was in a vet tech program as well and that was another reason why I wanted to do a vet au, since I was going into the veterinary field (I still might, but at this point in time I can't deal with any of it right now). So this is something that's very close to me and I hope you all enjoy :)
What Makes Us Human
She drove through the streets of Inverness as tears streamed down her face, much like the rain pouring outside. She looked over to the passenger seat where all she saw was a pink tongue lolling out of the black shadow beside her. “It’s going to be okay, baby I promise.” She sobbed, feeling her gut twisting and turning, already fearing the worst. .
Smokey gave her hand a reassuring lick, before returning his attention to the speeding world outside.
3 weeks earlier
“Hey bud, time for breakfast!” Claire muttered absently to the furry black mass laying beside her on the bed, while she ruefully extricated herself from under the security and warmth of the coverlet.
Normally, he would come running at the sound of his kibble being poured into the metallic bowl. Today though, Smokey only raised from his spot on the queen bed to turn around and plop down again in a decidedly more comfortable position.
“Still not feeling good?” Claire let out a small sigh and placed the bowl on the ground next to his water dish. “Well, it’s here whenever you decide you’re hungry.”
Claire went on to make her own breakfast: A piece of buttered toast and the last of the orange juice. She frowned as she looked into her refrigerator, a few half-empty bottles of various liquids were the only thing besides the off-white shelves.
She picked up one of the bottles, opened it and gave it a quick whiff, scrunching her nose at the smell and promptly throwing it in the trash. “Definitely time for more groceries.” Claire shook the liquid off her hands and turned her attention back to her breakfast.
She moved over to the small couch in her living room, conveniently just off the kitchenette of her small-ish flat. She settled in and started going through her phone.
Almost as if the object knew it had her attention, she received a text message.
“What is it now, Geillis.” Claire groaned and rolled her eyes, but opened the message anyway.
Hey doll, I know it’s your day off and I hate to be the one to ask, but could you come in? There was a pile-up on the parkway and we’re a bit short staffed. Could really use the help!  
In usual Geillis fashion she ended the message with the kissing emoji.
Claire let out a deep sigh, getting up from the comfy spot on the couch and took a moment to stretch and hear the satisfying little ‘pops’ of her bones.
After she had gotten ready and was about to head out the door, she noticed Smokey still hadn’t come to eat his breakfast, which wasn’t like him. Claire brushed it off to him just having  another off-day, and went out the door.
***
Her shift was longer than she’d expected, and she was exhausted. She was glad that she decided to bring an extra pair of scrubs, since hers were covered in blood and various other bodily fluids.
***
She closed and locked the door behind her, tossing her keys onto the counter and promptly passed out on her couch.
A few hours later she woke up, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes and looking at her surroundings. Realizing she wasn’t in her bed she got up and made her way to the small bedroom.
On the way, she noticed that Smokey’s food dish remained untouched.
The poor thing had been sneezing rather often in the past two weeks or so, accompanied by some discharge from his nose which Claire would gently wipe off.
If Smokey were a human patient, she’d chalk it up to just being a cold— maybe a flu. But dogs had no such thing as a cold or a flu, and while her medical knowledge was vast, it didn’t extend into the animal world.
How could she have known it would be something so much more than that?
***
The sneezing seemed to become increasingly more violent as the days went on. Something that racked through his entire body with the force of it. She figured he must have been exhausted.
When the symptoms had neglected to die down as she imagined they would, Claire finally made an appointment at the vet.
Other than the sneezing and the snot, Smokey was behaving normally. He was still a happy-go-lucky dog, eating and drinking normally, no accidents in the flat. It was only until a few days ago that Claire had become increasingly more concerned. Other than the one day he hadn’t eaten and all the aforementioned symptoms, he was fine.
Surely it was just something he had inhaled?
***
The first physical exam resulted in nothing abnormal: heart rate, respiration rate, temperature all normal. No swollen lymph nodes. Nothing to cause alarm. So they put Smokey on some antibiotics hoping that the symptoms would abade.
A week had gone by and the antibiotics had done nothing to alleviate the sneezing and now the occasional cough? It didn’t sound like a cough, but that was the best way she could explain it.
For the second visit, they had Claire drop Smokey off early in the morning and had her pick him up later. They then took radiographs of his skull (under sedation). There was something in his right nostril, but there was no way they could identify what it was with radiographs. They would need to get a clearer picture.
They had spoken to Claire as to the number of things it could be, and ultimately referred her to another clinic for a rhinoscopy.
They didn’t go through with the rhinoscopy, instead Claire and this new vet went over Smokey’s x-rays together after a preliminary exam. They decided the next course of action was to get a CT scan and a biopsy, to which she would have to go to yet another clinic.
“We’ll have to take a CT to figure out exactly what it is, but there is definitely something there.” The young, blonde vet explained to her, going over the X-rays of Smokey’s skull.
“When can we do that?” This new revelation did nothing to alleviate the mounting fear and anxiety rising in her.
“Well, we don’t have a CT machine at this clinic, so we’ll have to set it up at our other location, which isn’t too far from this one.”
Claire let out a long sigh and folded her arms.
“Okay, can we set that up here or do I have to call them?”
“We can set it up right here! We’re the same clinic, just different locations. What’s the best day and time for you?”
“Just try and get him in as soon as you can, please.”
The vet smiled wide, and Claire noticed how it reached her eyes and wished that she could feel the same.
***
The days seemed to drag on as she waited for the results. Cancer was one of the possibilities, and Claire had already run through having to say goodbye in her head.
He was at the vet almost the entire day and he seemed completely out of it that evening when he got home.
Blood and snot leaked from his right nostril, and each time she spotted it she would gently wipe it away. He seemed to have trouble breathing that night, and the few days that followed.
He seemed miserable, and it broke her heart to see him suffer. She was anxious to know the results, hoping that it was nothing major or life-threatening.
But it was.
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heartbreak-of-a-marauder ¡ 5 years ago
Text
Forever and Always My Little One (1)
Title: The Second Moonrise
Pairing: Kol Mikaelson x OC
Summary: Fayne is a vampire created during the first 100 years of the Originals immortal lives. Just as the end is approachings a chance encounter with the youngest original changes her life forever, and always.
Words: 1,927
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~*~*~*~*~
1348 – St. Bartholomew’s Hospital, London, England.
          I laid on the unforgiving mattress of the hospital bed, gazing up at the ageing paint that decorated the ceiling. Every now and again a shiver would pass through my body causing my hands to grip the blanket a little tighter. The coating of sweat that covered me from head to toe had long since soaked through my shift causing it to stick uncomfortably to my skin. It is an indescribable feeling to have your skin burning with heat but have a chill in your bones. An endless hunger seemed to be developing in my stomach as my natural instincts pleaded to be obeyed, and the ever-increasing number of people fillings the hospital made things more difficult.    
           The silvery rays of the moon that managed to break past the clouds, crept through the window panes adding a little more light to the candlelit room. The sounds of raspy breathing and soft coughing were two of the few things that could be heard across the wide expanse of rooms. Scenes of the vivid past that had poisoned my dreams would soon spill into my waking moments as the days went on and to fight them would cause painful aches in my head.  
           Slowly I pushed myself up into a sitting position, the bed frame creaked slightly due to the changing positions of pressure. The calm of the room was soon disturbed by my own coughing when the dryness could no longer be ignored. The coughing became more violent to the point of wrenching. Removing my hand from my mouth I instantly zeroed in on the red splodges that mingled with mucus. A single tear slid down my cheek, I was still greedy for life despite having taken more time than I was originally dealt. But the evidence in my hand made it plain that I would not last much longer.
           A shadow in the corner of my eye catches my attention, it moves swiftly with an inhuman likeness, it lurks around the cots at the far end of the room; hovering almost. It leans over one of the cots seemingly surveying the individual that lay in it. I shift slightly to get a better view, even in the poor light I can see how its back stiffens like a creature caught in the act. In the same quiet yet elegant manner he moves away from his previous point of interest and begins his journey towards my bed.  
“Are you well miss?” A distinct British accent can be heard as he lowered the hood of the cloak.      
“As well as I am able to be sir.” I offer politely in return.  
“I hope circumstances could be better for you.” Cocking his head to the side.  
“Many have said that it is God’s will, a punishment of sorts.” I offered some of the fatalistic babble given to me by a now-deceased person.  
The corners of his mouth turned upwards a little after hearing my comment, he seemed to like the façade I had constructed. A breathy chuckle escapes his lips as he lowers himself to sit on the edge of my cot.  
“The fragility of human life…” He muses to himself while an outstretched hand toys with a lock of hair that has fallen over my shoulder. He pulls his attention away from the strands in his fingers to look me directly in the eye.  
“I can only imagine your wildest fantasies and the adventure you thought you may have had.” He voices his thought, without waiting for a reply he continues. “What if I could give you the means to travel the world and see its wonders?"  
"Money is of no use to a person doomed to die my Lord..." I mused lowly.  
The stranger lets out a hearty chuckle, allowing a grin to grace his face. He looks away from me for a moment before he brings his gaze back to mine.  
"Money is not what I offer dear girl, I can give you so much more." He boasts while leaning a little closer, when he is a hair's breadth away from my ear he whispers, "I can give you eternal life." He stays there for a moment inhaling deeply capturing my scent.  
When he draws back the grin he previously wore is gone, instead, his brows have pulled together and his mouth is in a straight line. The amusement that had occupied his eyes has iced over, and he sits very still observing me.  
He knows why I am dying.  
"Eternal life has been good for me up until now," I sigh while peeling back the sleeve of my shift, smiling sourly when I hear his sharp intake of breath. "And I admit that I lust for more, but this is a death sentence, not even a vampire can escape." I break my eyes away from his brown ones to focus on the putrid bite.    
"I can still give you eternal life" He speaks after a while, determination lacing his words.  
A wry smile forms on my face. "Then I would encourage you to let go of those follies, a bite from a werewolf is final, no one survives."  
"Were you not told to look a gift horse in the mouth girl?" He copies my expression.  
I narrow my eyes at his tone, hunger mixed with a fevers rage proves to be a volatile mix. "I am no child sir, my name is Fayne and you shall address me as such."  
"Then you shall address me as Kol Mikaelson, little one." He fires back, I huff harshly at his use of the pet name.  
He stands abruptly and straightens out his clothing, all the while his eyes never leaving mine. "Then I propose a wager of sorts, should I save you by the second moon rise then you shall accompany me in my travels" He declares.  
"And if you do not?" I ask with morbid curiosity.  
He smirks. "I am sure you can work that out for yourself little one, goodbye for now." In the blink of an eye, he is gone.  
_ _ _ _ _ _
The sun was beginning to set on the eve of the second moonrise, vast orange beams forced their way into the crowded room. I had not laid all my faith in Kol and his abilities to save me, but time was running out on his wager, and I was growing less lucid with every minute. I wanted to be cured but it was surely something of a fantasy. I was fighting to stay in the uncomfortable cot. My gums burned as my fangs fought to be free, the scent of blood was everywhere, the thread of humanity I clung to was beginning to fray.  
In an instant, the thread had broken, and the animal inside came barrelling to the forefront. I didn’t feel the thick veins appear on my face nor the elongation of my fangs, I simply gave in to nature and it took me to a place I would be grateful for. 
I loomed over my unsuspecting victim, they were here for injury, not illness, and it smelled so good. Quietly I hike up the shift unit it allows me to comfortable straddle his stomach. I crouch over him dragging the tip of my nose across his exposed skin before settling by his neck, I do not waste time or thought before biting down hard. I feel the way he fights weakly beneath me, not quite ready to die but I show no mercy and quickly drain him dry.  
I attach myself to every victim like a newly born babe suckling from its mother. I break free from the current poor soul who serves as my dinner, breathing deeply I tip my head back. Never has it felt so good. Once again, I lower my head in preparation to finish my meal, but I don’t get near her delicate skin as hand fists itself in my hair dragging me away.  
I buck and thrash like a wild animal, but the mysterious assailant further restrains me. The scent of sickness invades my nose informing me we have returned to my cot. They throw me harshly towards it, I whirl around preparing to attack but stop when I see Kol has returned with a stranger.  
"She has got fight brother." He smirks at me.  
“Come now brother, we don’t have all night.” Kol hurries, earning a sigh from the other man.  
"I struggle to see why I should help a diluted bloodline but as you can see my brother insists." He teases, I look in Kol's direction for an indication that this is a jest, but his face is emotionless.  
"Get on with it Niklaus." His nonchalant tone shocks me.  
Niklaus takes a few steps towards me but I cannot escape the feeling that he is a predator and I his prey.  
"Come now love, it will be painless; I promise." He chuckles before biting his wrist, my eyes switch between his wrist and face in disbelief. After seeing my hesitation, he uses his abilities to force his wrist into my mouth. The blood trickles down my throat for a few moments before he removes it.  
He gives a curt nod towards Kol before disappearing.  
"Vampire blood? You think that it will magically cure me?" I scoff at Kol, his face hardens.  
"A 'thank you' is customary for when someone helps you." He retorts.  
"Thank you?!" I cried incredulously, in a moment I appear before him. "You have not helped."  
Roughly he grabs onto my right elbow drawing me closer to him, but also bringing my arm into view, he wastes no time in ripping the fabric of the sleeve back to reveal that the wound is indeed healing. The inflammation and discolouration had receded considerably and the bite had shrunk. I stared in disbelief, it had worked. Swallowing my pride and looked up at Kol.  
"Thank you." It would be barely audible to human ears, but I knew he had heard me.  
He smirks, liking that I had given in. "Now we must depart." He states while walking towards the entrance to the ward.  
"Depart?" I ask, still stood near the cot.  
He casts a glance over his shoulder before stopping. "I won the wager little one, you are now my travelling companion." He seems to think better of a previous decision and begins to walk back towards me, or rather past me.  
"And where will we go?" I ask curiously as he peers out of the now open window. 
He beckons me to him with a flick of his wrist, and slowly I come to join him by the window. He uses the inside of his dark cloak to wipe around my mouth and down my neck. Once satisfied he unbuckles it from his neck and sweeps it over my shoulders before securing it.  
"There is no rush in having ready-made plans, that is the beauty of eternity."  
"So, when are we to leave?" I ask not following.    
"Now." He replies simply while smirking.  
He pulls me into him, fixing us together by holding me around my waist, heat travels up my neck at his closeness but the cool air of the night soon takes over. I didn’t pay attention as to where we were going because the blackness of the night morphed the surroundings but, I was grateful when we got into a carriage and the sight of Saint Bartholomew’s disappeared into the distance.  
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areyounotthrowingawaymysocks ¡ 5 years ago
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Playground (Daveed x Emmy/ Anthony x Jasmine)
Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3 Pt. 4 Pt. 5 Pt. 6 Pt. 7 Pt. 8 Pt. 9
Pairing: Daveed Diggs x Emmy Raver-Lampman and Anthony Ramos x Jasmine Cephas-Jones
Word Count: 2217
Warnings: Bullying, Injury, Hospital, Surgery
Author’s Note: This was originally a short, fluffy fic about the kids playing together at the playground. Then I decided to re-write it while editing today and this was the end result. Whoops!
While Emmy and Jasmine were at work together, both currently working on a new musical, Daveed and Anthony decided to band together to take care of the three kids. Daniele, Callie, and Michael were five now and were all in the same kindergarten class. The two couples tried to get the kids together at least once a week, and they regularly watched each other’s kids so that they could still have date nights and some child-free time. 
On this particular Saturday, Daveed and Anthony decided to take the kids to the local park where they could run around and get some energy out. The park also had a playground where they would be able to play on the jungle gym and swings for a while before heading home for dinner. 
Daveed and Daniele arrived at Anthony and Jasmine’s apartment around two, after a long and messy lunch of mac and cheese and fruit snacks, the only things she would eat when Emmy wasn’t home. Anthony opened the door to reveal Michael running around the apartment in just his underwear while Callie was playing quietly in the corner with her dollhouse. It never ceased to amuse Daveed how different the twins were. He sent Daniele over to play with Callie and then made his way over to Michael and tried to convince him to put on some clothes. After about fifteen minutes, Michael was finally dressed and the group made their way down the street to the park.
As soon as they arrived, all three kids joined a game of tag with a few other kids who were already playing. Daveed and Anthony took a seat on a nearby bench where they could chat while still keeping an eye on the kids to make sure no one got hurt. After about twenty minutes of tag, Daniele and Callie came over to ask if they could go over to the playground now. They called for Michael and made their way over, the girls heading straight for the swings while Michael ran for the sandbox when he saw there was a dump truck that no one was playing with yet. 
After a little while, Daniele and Callie decided to head over to the jungle gym to practice their gymnastics. Their were some older kids hanging out there too, but they stayed on the lower bars like Anthony had told them to so they weren’t worried. Daniele was showing Callie the new flip she had learned in class when one of the bigger kids came over to them.
“Are you babies done yet?” she asked, her hands on her hips, glaring at Dani and Callie. “Why don’t you go play with the baby toys over there?” she pointed at the baby swings across the park.
“M-my Papí says I can p-play here if I w-want!” Callie retorted, her small voice wavering as the older girl stared her down.
“Y-yeah! D-daddy said we could p-play f-flips!” Dani added, moving to stand next to her friend.
“Well, only big kids can play on the bars. Prove that you’re big kids and we’ll let you stay,” another girl added.
“Fine!” Daniele shouted, climbing up the ladder to the higher bars.
“Dani! Papí told us not to go up there!” Callie called after her, looking back towards Anthony and Daveed who were busy talking and didn’t notice the altercation their daughters were in.
“It’s fine, C! We’ve been up here before! C’mon!” Danielle called from the top of the ladder.
Callie hesitantly made her way towards the ladder and began climbing up after giving one more glance towards her father. When she reached the top, she couldn’t help but feel proud of herself for making it up so high. She could see the whole playground from up here. Michael was still in the sandbox, currently dumping sand down another kid’s shirt. She could see Anthony and Daveed, still on the bench, unaware that their daughters had climbed up higher than they were supposed to. But before she could get too comfortable up there, the older girls were back.
“Now you gotta do a flip up here,” the older girl said, demonstrating by flipping herself backwards so she was hanging by her knees, “Your turn,” she said as she flipped back up.
Daniele hesitantly adjusted herself on the bar and then helped Callie adjust herself. They squeezed hands and then let go as they flipped back. Daniele felt her legs slip off of the bar, and the next thing she knew, she was on the ground, searing pain in her left arm. 
“Dani!” Callie called as soon as she realized what had happened, “Hold on! I’ll be right there to help you!” she yelled to her as a tear slipped down her cheek.
“Here, I’ll show you the fastest way to get there,” the older girl said before pushing Callie off the bar, laughing as she fell to the ground next to Daniele and then running off with the rest of the older kids before they could get caught.
Callie hit the wood chips below with a thud. The pain was instant and all she could do was scream. Anthony heard her and he and Daveed went running, shocked to see both of their daughters lying on the ground below the jungle gym. Daveed could tell just by looking that Daniele had broken her left arm, the swelling and bruising already setting in. Callie was in even worse shape. The broken bone in her leg had pierced her skin and she was bleeding. Anthony was using his sweatshirt to stop the bleeding while calling an ambulance. He told Daveed to call the theater and have Emmy and Jasmine meet them at the ER. Michael had noticed the chaos and the crowd that had formed and made his way over. Daveed kept him turned around while simultaneously cradling Daniele so that he wouldn’t see his sister’s injury. After he reached the theater and confirmed that the girls would meet them at the ER, Anthony had him call Stephanie to pick up Michael so he wouldn’t have to be at the hospital with them. He explained to his son that he was going to have a special sleepover with Auntie Steph and that he’d get to watch movies and pick whatever kind of take out he wanted for dinner. 
After what felt like an eternity but in reality was probably only a few minutes, the ambulances arrived to take the girls to the hospital. The EMTs quickly splinted Daniele’s arm to keep it stable on the trip. They took a bit longer with Callie because they had to bandage her wound before they could splint her leg. When they finally arrived at the hospital, they put the girls in a shared room because they had been crying for each other the whole trip. They were both given pain medication so they were super sleepy and a little loopy when Jasmine and Emmy arrived. Both women were in a frantic state, clearly having gotten quickly changed out of costume and jumping into an Uber as soon as they got the call. 
The girls were both taken back for x-rays, Jasmine having to go with Callie who was convinced that she was being taken away from her parents forever. Fortunately, Daniele’s arm was a clean break that would heal with just a cast. She chose purple, to match her new sneakers, and was excited to have all her friends draw on it at school on Monday. Callie, unfortunately, was going to need surgery to realign her bones and place several screws. Anthony and Jasmine were nervous, as was to be expected, but they were grateful to be at a pediatric hospital with a world renowned orthopedic team who they felt would do everything they could to help their daughter heal as quickly as possible. 
Daniele was allowed to go home after her cast was put on, so she said goodbye to Callie and wished her good luck with her surgery. Emmy promised that they would come back to visit the next day once Callie was recovering and that seemed to calm the girls down a bit. The Diggs family made their way home, leaving Callie and her parents to prepare for the long night ahead of them. Despite the heavy pain medications, she was still in a significant amount of pain, which the doctor said was to be expected with her injury. Her surgery had been booked for 7am the following morning, and she would be unable to eat all night, so they tried to come up with some different ways to distract her both from hunger and pain all night. Luckily, the hospital didn’t have a restriction on visiting hours, so Cynthia and Mario came over around 9 with a big bag of supplies they had picked up from the apartment: pillows, blankets, dolls, art supplies, books, stuffed animals, movies, the iPad, and Anthony’s laptop. They also grabbed changes of clothes for all three of them, toiletries, and phone chargers. Stephanie had also stopped by the apartment and grabbed anything she would need to take care of Michael for the few days they were expecting to be in the hospital with Callie and a few days after so she could recover at home in peace. 
Around 2am, Callie was awake and crying from pain, Jasmine doing her best to hold her without hurting her leg while they waited to hear back from the doctor about giving her more pain meds. Jasmine put Lion King on for her, one of her favorite Disney movies, and was singing along to some of the songs, quietly kissing her head, trying to calm her, to no avail. Callie was just whimpering at this point, too tired to fully cry. Anthony excused himself from the room and Jasmine assumed he was going to go beg the nurse to page the doctor again. 
Twenty minutes later, the nurse came in with more pain meds for Callie. Jasmine thanked her and the woman offered her a small supportive smile in return. Jasmine was so grateful that Callie had a nurse who was so attentive to her needs and was helping to make sure she was as comfortable as possible until she had her surgery. With the additional medication, Callie quickly fell asleep. Jasmine noticed that Anthony still hadn’t returned, so she texted him to see if he was okay. When she didn’t get a reply, she decided to go look for him, hoping Callie would stay asleep for a little while.
She found him crying on a bench in the family waiting area. She quietly slipped next to him and wrapped him in a hug, rubbing steady circles on his back to help steady his breathing.
“Bubba, match my breathing. In. Out. In. Out. Good job. Keep going,” she coached him, feeling his breathing begin to regulate, the tension being released from his body.
“My fault,” he muttered into her shoulder, his voice wavering from tears.
“What do you mean, Bubba?” she asked, holding him so she could see his face.
“It’s my fault she’s hurt. I shoulda watched her better,” he said, turning away, unable to look her in the eyes.
“Bubba, look at me,” she said, turning his face so she was looking at him, “I know how hard it is to watch both of them at once. Especially somewhere like the playground. She’s gonna be okay. Let’s go back in there with her before she wakes up again looking for us.”
The next morning, Callie was brought down for pre-op around 5:30. By 7, she was pretty doped up from the medicine the anesthesiologist had given her, but she was excited that when she woke up from her “nap” her leg would be fixed and she would have a purple cast to match Dani. When she was wheeled back to the OR, Anthony and Jasmine were led to a waiting room, where both of their mothers were waiting already, along with Cynthia and Mario. They all waited together, taking turns comforting Anthony and Jasmine until a nurse came out to tell them that Callie was out of surgery and should be waking up shortly. She explained that one parent could come sit with her now and that the other could join once she was fully awake. Jasmine followed the nurse back and took a seat next to her sleeping daughter, admiring how peaceful she looked for the first time since they had arrived at the hospital. 
A few hours later, Callie was back up in her hospital room surrounded by her family. Everyone had come upstairs to see her once she was moved back up and they all brought gifts. Jasmine’s mom had gotten her a new Barbie, Anthony’s mom got her a stuffed pig, her current favorite animal. Mario and Cynthia had stopped at the American Girl store and gotten a set of crutches and a cast so her doll could match her. Stephanie brought her a box of her favorite cookies, and Michael had drawn her a picture. She was still a bit drowsy from the anesthesia and sore from surgery, but Callie was grateful to be spending a day surrounded by her family who cared about her so much.
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kcwcommentary ¡ 6 years ago
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VLD2x05 – “Eye of the Storm”
2x05 – “Eye of the Storm”
Zarkon’s forces, who showed up at the end of the last episode, attack. The Castle takes evasive action. This is the first time (is it the only time? because I don’t remember these things) that it’s shown that there are weapons drones separate from the Castle itself. Of course, the writers decided that in a tense situation, one that could be life or death, to have the never explained “rivalry” between Lance and Keith be a thing. When you’re in a situation like this, you’re fighting for your life, you’re not going to care about such petty things. Allura using the moon for a gravity assist was really nice though; I’m surprised the show could actually get something science right for a change.
The Castle makes it into a wormhole and escapes but falls short of their intended destination. Allura collapses from stress and everyone’s tired. Coran gets “the slipperies.” This plot for him doesn’t do much for me; it doesn’t bother me, I’m just eh about it. He eventually reports that the Castle’s teludav, the system that enables wormhole creation, is under severe need of maintenance. While Coran works, everyone else tries to rest.
Lance heads off to the pool, and when he sees Keith is doing the same, he gets all angry/annoyed. “What the heck do you think you’re doing?” he asks Keith. This “rivalry” is so senseless. Seriously, writers? Keith can’t even go for a swim without Lance being bothered by it? It’s tiresome. The power cuts out while they’re in the elevator though. Two people antagonistically stuck in an elevator together is a trope, but this episode doesn’t let it play out; we move on to out of the elevator almost instantly.
Meanwhile, Hunk is baking because of course he is. I can understand his explanation though, that it clears his head. This is a reasonable application of the Hunk-likes-food single bullet-point of characterization the show gave the character. It expands his liking food beyond just fat guy = food, and instead explains how it’s applicable to his psychology. Baking is meditative for him. His “cookies” are weird though, and when challenged on it, he responds, “Are you going to try and tell me these aren’t cookies?” as he looks through clear, blue discs. Are you telling me he just randomly threw unknown substances in a bowl, stirred, and then portioned it out and baked it? That’s not how baking works. If he truly is even a novice yet serious baker, he would know that baking requires precise measurement of ingredients. The show again thinks doing a faux x-ray shot of bones breaking, this time Hunk’s teeth when he bites a “cookie,” is funny. It’s not.
Lance and Keith are trying to cooperate in climbing up the elevator shaft. The “rivalry” continues as they rant at each other each step. They eventually make it out and to a spot under the pool. The water is above them for some no other reason than it’s weird.
Pidge meanwhile tries to learn Altean, but for some absurd reason, the language instruction software attacks you if you mispronounce words. And the words it teaches are just creatures/monsters. The episode later makes Pidge’s wanting to learn the Altean language have relevance, but this particular scene does nothing to advance to that point, so this scene is wholly unnecessary. 
Shiro and Allura have a brief, but nice, tender moment. She can’t help but to continue to be worried about Zarkon. Shiro tries to encourage her that it’s okay to take a bit of time to rest. Unfortunately, while they’re talking, Galra forces attack the Castle. The crew goes to stations. Lance is baffled that Zarkon could have found them. I don’t know why though since this isn’t the first time; the show has established that Zarkon can do this, and the Paladins know that he can do this. This shouldn’t seem like an out-of-nowhere surprise anymore. Coran’s slipperies remains a problem. I still don’t find his condition to be funny, but the emotion of his apology to Pidge and his asking for help makes his situation have narrative/characterization value. Keith and Lance are back to controlling the weapon drones. They call out targets for one another, which I guess is supposed to be them setting aside the rivalry to help one another, but it’s not realistic. One, an advanced weapon system like these drones would have tracking systems built into them, so each one would have fighters/potential targets being presented on their operational displays. Two, each of them would be too busy operating their own drone to be able to monitor for targets for the other.
The drones go down, other systems, the shields, Coran and Pidge have to take them all offline to power the wormhole generator. The Castle makes a short jump and end up at what looks like a giant gas planet, but they have at least a moment to breathe. Shiro’s worried about how they’re being tracked, and Allura assures him the Castle’s systems would have detected any kind of tracking device. Coran reports the teludav is even more damaged now. Pidge describes the thing that looks like a planet as being a “giant metallic storm.” This show finally has something that looks a fair bit like a realistic planet – it’s kind of Jupiter/Saturn-ish – but it’s a “metallic storm?” Whatever.
The storm should hide them from any technology that could detect them, but Zarkon’s there almost immediately. The shots of Zarkon’s ship above the eye of the storm are beautifully animated. With no known tech being identifiable as letting Zarkon find them, Allura assigns blame to herself. Saying that’s how the Galra found them on Arus too. I guess it’s just the stress of the moment that makes her blame herself. Shiro says none of that matters. (He’s so supportive in moments of crisis! How anyone could think his character is boring, I don’t know.) He says that Voltron needs to lure Zarkon away so that the Castle can get out. He says to Coran, “I need you to do the impossible.” So much leadership!
Galra fighters following Voltron into the storm end up being destroyed by the storm. I don’t understand the structure of this storm. It has an eye, but only on one end? Zarkon’s ship is stationed at that end of the eye, but there’s apparently something beneath the cylinder of the eye of the storm that blocks the other end, and thus the Castle can’t get out that way? That’s the problem when you make up something like this: you have to explain it/depict it in greater scope to let the reader/viewer understand what it is. If this is just a weird, spinning storm in space that has an eye, we’re going to instantly compare it to a hurricane to try to understand it. The eye of a hurricane is open on top and bottom. But this has no bottom opening?
Zarkon rages, “The Black Lion is all that matters.” The Castle flies out of the eye right past Zarkon’s ship. Even if Zarkon is focusing himself on the Black Lion, I can’t believe the entirety of his ship would just stop and not attack the Castle while it flies past. Voltron starts glowing purple and being pulled toward Zarkon’s ship. Shiro states Zarkon’s trying to take control of the Black Lion. Voltron struggles against the pull, and the Lions start emitting beams of light from their eyes. It’s visually confusing because Zarkon’s ship starts exploding, so it makes it look like it’s those beams of light that are damaging the ship until three camera shots later when it’s revealed that the Castle is blasting huge holes through Zarkon’s ship. Given how much damage the Castle is doing, they should be able to easily destroy the entire ship. Zarkon’s concentration is broken, allowing Voltron to escape.
Hunk’s cookies turn out to be made of the stuff that the lenses that need to be replaced in the teludav. It’s a convoluted, silly scene of the Paladins holding the “cookies.” But it doesn’t bother me. Everyone is freaking out. Lance is screaming, “We’re going to die.” And Shiro is just standing there thoroughly unbothered, with an almost resigned, “whatever” look on his face. It’s like the poor guy’s been through too much to even care at this point. The lenses aren’t enough; they need to be shined, and Coran uses his slippery goo to do so. The system works, they Castle jumps into a wormhole and escapes.
This episode does change the dynamic between Team Voltron and Zarkon. He’s no longer just standing around somewhere distant being a villain from afar. Now he’s actively pursuing them himself. The episode thus heightens the overall tension in the show’s ongoing plot.
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