#TAILS CUSTOMIZED GEAR HE DIDN’T MAKE CUSTOM GEAR. THERE IS A DIFFERENCE | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years ago

Text

Baby, It’s Cold...

Warnings: this fic includes dubious/nonconsent, fingering, lying, manipulation, and general Ransom naughtiness

This is explicit. 18+ only.

Summary: You go to meet your online admirer but not all is as it seems.

Note: Our Chris-mas fic is here! I tried to keep the holiday details as vague as possible and hope you all enjoy what I came up with. As a reminder, y’all chose Ransom Drysdale + Sugar Daddy + Silverfox (= yes please)

I hope y’all enjoy!

Let me know what you think! (Like, reblog, reply, leave some words, a gif, nonsensical emojis)

Your nerves wouldn't stop. It was the tap of your fingers, the urge to chew your thumb, and the way you shifted in your seat just when you got settled. The flight was long enough to calm down and definitely not long enough to prepare yourself.

You scrolled through your phone, offline for the journey. You swiped through the photos saved in your gallery. Hugh had paid for the ticket. A gift for the holidays he said; his gift, he added, was you. It was cheesy but it made you smile. He always had a way of surprising you. One moment, he was stern and demanding, the next he was flirty and fun, and sometimes, he could be sappy. He was different than any man you’d met; well you hadn’t exactly met yet.

It had started on your Insta. You liked to post pictures of pretty things; flowers, birds, critters, and the odd monument. Sometimes, even, yourself. He messaged you about some photo of a vintage book. It was random and awkward. You weren’t quite sure how you managed to bring the quality to text but you did always find a way.

But it continued and you got to know him. He knew a lot about books; he said he worked in publishing. As a photography student, you weren’t as impressive. You assumed he was older; a few years, he said. Well, that wasn’t so bad. He also suggested you keep some prints; it could make for a good coffee table book. You liked hat he humoured you but you were like any other arts major; you were waiting for your green apron.

As they announced the landing over the speaker, you buckled in. You played with the locked buckle. You had lied to your mother. You told her you were staying on campus for the winter break. What would do if she knew if you were meeting a stranger? Huh, you were meeting a stranger and you had kept it all a secret. Your romcom had just become a horror in your mind.

Well, you had the app on the phone. The one that would send your location if you didn’t log in within the next eight hours. But it could be too late by then. Shit, this was stupid. So stupid. You could hide and tell him you missed your flight. Well, fuck, you’d texted him just before boarding.

As the plane descended you went through every worst case scenario; catfish, liar, murderer… Hugh was hot as fuck and you had to admit, a rich guy with eyes like his, was way out of your league. You bit your lip as you looked at the pic of him at the beach; was it the abs that made you so dumb or the smirk?

The large wheels rolled over the tarmac as the pilot steered past the other planes and into position. You waited as disembarkment began and the attendants reminded passengers to remain seated until told otherwise. You felt the wine in your stomach swish. Hugh had paid for first class; you had enjoyed the complimentary drinks a little too much. The first had been for courage, the second for foolishness.

Finally, it was time to get up. Time to face your naivety. Why did these things seem like a good idea until the last minute? Rather, why did you think they were? This was like that blind date in your freshman year that turned out to be a prank by your roommates. Sophomore year saw you relocated.

What if the same was going through Hugh’s head? What if he was disappointed? It was easy to seem cooler than you were behind a screen. It wasn’t exactly like you broadcasted the fact that you spent all your time in the library or the fact that your study group was the majority of your socialization. Well, maybe you’d both be let down and you could laugh about it together.

You grabbed your carry-on and followed the rest of the passengers down the ramp and into the tunnel. You felt like you were in a movie or a dream. It was surreal. Had you really flown all this way to meet this online pal?

As you reached the escalators, you turned your phone off of airplane mode. There was a message waiting for you. ‘At the gate.’ It was all too real as you sent back an emoji and neared the belt to grab your bag. You extended the arm and rolled it behind you as you headed for the last barrier. You were waved through customs and met another set of escalators. You bounced your leg as you descended.

You got to the bottom and walked around as you searched those waiting around the gate. Blonde hair, you couldn’t miss it. Blue eyes, tall, broad shoulders… he was the type to stand out in the crowd.

“Hey,” you felt a large hand on your back and another on the handle of your bag. “Right here.”

The deep voice was the same from your phone calls. You smiled and looked over as he took your bag entirely and wrapped his arm around you.

“I can’t believe you’re finally here.” You turned to him and his hand rested on your hip as he faced you.

The air went out of you and your lips parted. You blinked and sputtered. “H- Hi.”

“You okay? How was the flight?” He asked.

You were in shock. Your entire body jittered and your breath was trapped in your chest. It was Hugh but he was about twenty years older than his photos. Most of his hair was silver, with only a few strands of blonde, and though he hadn’t aged poorly, the difference was stark. Handsome as he still was, he had lied.

“It was… fine.” You forced out. “I…” You shook your head and pouted as your thoughts raced, “Hugh, you’re… older than I expected.”

“Call me Ransom. Everybody does.” He leaned it, “Why don’t we talk about this in the car?”

You looked around. You couldn’t really just turn around and go home, could you? You lowered your chin and sucked in your lip as you thought. What else had he lied about?

“Sure,” you said thinly. “I…”

“Babe, it’s me,” he coaxed, “I’m exactly who I said I was. And you, you’re even more gorgeous in person.”

You glanced at him and nodded. You hooked your shoulder bag over your arm and he grabbed your hand as he pulled you with him. The wheels of your suitcase rolled loudly behind him as the buzz of the crowd drowned out your panicked mind. You let him guide you, in disbelief. You didn’t know what else to do.

You were outside as the haze cleared. You approached a car, sleek and sporty, though you were never good with types. Hugh, or Ransom, opened the trunk and dropped your bag inside. He went to the driver’s side and opened the door as you stared across at him. You mirrored him and lowered yourself into the passenger’s seat. The doors closed almost in unison and you stared through the windshield at the unfamiliar parking lot.

He cleared his throat and turned the engine. You snapped your belt into place as he shifted into gear. You flinched and crossed your arms. You peeked at him in the rearview and his hand crawled onto your thigh. His eyes met yours in the mirror and he smirked. You were paralysed as he steered with one hand and his fingers tapped against your jeans.

“Merry Christmas, babe,” he said, “Or… happy holidays. Whatever’s politically correct.”

He laughed and you only managed to choke on your spit. You felt like you should be mad but did you have any right to be? He hadn’t exactly catfished you. Not completely. And he had paid for your ticket and from what you could tell, he was just as rich as he claimed. Yet, that wasn’t exactly why you’d come. Sure, it was all just in good fun, you didn’t expect a whirlwind romance, but it was still jarring.

“Why don’t you just relax?” he purred, “I know it wasn’t too long a flight but flying always takes it outta me. And you’ll need your energy. I have lots of surprises in store for you.”

You nodded and leaned against the door. You hugged yourself and lifted your leg over the other and Ransom’s hand slipped away. He seemed unbothered as he sat back in his seat and turned his attention to the road.

The radio flicked on and filled the tense silence. You clung to the unknown lyrics to keep from drowning in fear.

🎁

Despite your doubts, you couldn’t help but be astounded by Ransom’s house. Almost four years in a dormitory and the Holiday Inn was like a palace to you, but his place was even more than that. A modern façade with a blanket of store across the sprawling yards which seemed to have been perfectly laid to match the straight lines of the structure.

You stayed in the car as Ransom climbed out and took your bag from the trunk. You jumped in your seat as he tapped on the window with his knuckle. You looked over at him and undid your belt. You got out, your bag dangling from your wrist, and he touched the small of your back again as he led you forward.

“We’ll have dinner and then you can open your gifts,” he said, “That’s when the fun will start.”

“Mmhmm,” you hummed as he unlocked the door with a code and ushered you in.

You watched him hang his jacket and reluctantly unzipped your own. You put your bag down but kept a hold of your phone.

“You’re nervous,” he intoned.

“Why did you send me those pics and not something more recent? You lied.” You said.

His mouth slanted and he raised his brows. “They were me. Not much of a lie.”

“Enough of one, don’t you think?”

He chuckled. “I think you at least owe me a little leeway. Considering.”

“Considering what? You offered to pay. Don’t hold that over me.”

“I’m not but… you’re young, you’re impulsive. I mean, you came all the way here and now what? You’re going to tuck tail and run home? Spend the last of that bursary money so you can hide?”

“Don’t patronize me,” you huffed as you stepped out of your boots.

“I’m not.” He said firmly. “I’m giving you advice and it’s hard to see when you’re young but we both know you’re smarter than your age. We both know what this is and me being older isn’t going to affect that.” His eyes roved over you, “Is it?”

You lowered your lashes and thought. You wetted your lips and looked down at your phone. You unlocked it and opened the app. You keyed in your password and turned off the alert. You’d come this far and you were fairly certain he wouldn’t murder you. Besides, your mother would kill you once she found out you’d come all this way.

“It’s just gonna take me a bit to get used to it,” you tucked your phone away, “But promise me, that’s it. The only lie.”

“Promise,” he said gently, “Now, dinner should be here soon so why don’t you get changed.”

“Changed?” You snorted, “What--”

“Up the stairs, the room at the end of the hall, there’s a red box on the bed. It should fit. If it doesn’t, I’m sure it’ll still look great on you.”

You smiled as your cheeks burned. He was older but he still had charm and had aged into his looks and not out of them.

“Alright,” you said, “I… what’s for dinner?”

“Another surprise,” he replied as he neared and leaned in, “I’m more excited about dessert.” His breath tickled your cheek, his lips too, and you shivered. “Now go, we’ve both waited long enough for this.”

You drew away and turned to head up the stairs. He tapped your ass and you squeaked. You looked back over his shoulder and he winked. “Can’t help myself,” he raised his hands, “But I’ll try.”

You continued up the stairs and tried not to gape at what had to be expensive art. The furniture was no less extravagant and as you entered the room at the end of the hall, you closed the door and pulled out your phone. You typed in Ransom instead of Hugh Drysdale and pages of results popped up. Editor, Publisher, and Owner of Blood Like Wine Publishing. Jesus Christ, were you really that daft?

Well, he was famous enough to reassure you he wasn’t going to kill you. You tossed your phone on the bed beside the box and carefully untied the black ribbon around it. You shimmied the lid off and revealed the red velvet. You lifted it up, a short little piece trimmed with white fur. It was the most ridiculous thing you’d ever seen but scandalous nevertheless.

You stripped as your nerves only got worse. You slipped into the dress, it was tight around your chest and the short skirt had a slit along the thigh. You wanted to laugh at yourself. There was a pair of heels at the foot of the bed and you sat to slip on the stilettos. You stood and wobbled. You felt so dumb but a glance in the mirrored door of the closet gave you pause. Not bad.

You slowly made your way down the stairs. You held tight to the railing and as you came to the bottom, you looked around at the airy halls. You wandered into the next room and back to the kitchen. You stopped in the doorway as Ransom looked up from the counter. He carefully plated the food from the containers surrounded by paper bags. Expensive, boujie take out.

“The other way,” he smiled, “Past the stairs. I’ll be in shortly.”

“Oh, okay,” you spun and caught yourself on the wall.

You found your way to the room across the hall. There was an artificial fireplace in the wall burning and a low table with two cushions planted deliberately on the floor. There was a bucket with ice and champagne in it and two glasses waiting. You crossed to it and touched the petals of the stemmed roses in the tall crystal vase.

You turned as you heard footsteps. Ransom entered with two plates. He passed you and set them down on the low table. He spun back to you and took in every inch of you. “Wow, you look… great.”

“Thank you,” you shied away and he caught your hands. He pulled you close as the candlelight gleamed along his silver hair.

“Come here,” his hand grazed your arm and he caught your chin, “Amazing.”

He brushed his lips against yours and pressed them more firmly. You let him as you heart hammered and he pulled away as he nibbled your bottom lip.

“Let’s eat,” he breathed. “Before it gets cold.”

You followed him to the table and sat on the cushion. It was difficult as your skirt rode up and you bent your legs beside you awkwardly as Ransom popped the cork. He poured the wine and you sipped at the foam. You could still feel the glow of the grigio you’d downed on the plane.

“So, did you bring your camera? Tomorrow we might go out and you can get some photos. It’s beautiful in the winter. Cold but makes warming up all the better.”

“Yeah…” You took a bite of the salad. “So, why didn’t you tell me who you were? If your age doesn’t matter, then--”

“You didn’t ask me for money. Not even when I mentioned it. Most women, I tell them who I am, they google me, and they do a poor job of tiptoeing around my checkbook.” He shrugged. “And I like you. I wanted to get to know you without everything else.”

“Get to know me?” You scoffed. “That’s what you call it?”

“My intentions were innocent. At first. I thought your pictures might make a good book and then I found one of you. Business isn’t everything.”

“Oh,” you fluttered your lashes, “It’s not?”

His hand snaked over to your thigh and he squeezed. He played with the fur along your skirt.

“I have enough money.” He said, “What I want isn’t so simple.”

🎁

You finished dinner and washed it down with the champagne as Ransom cleared the plates. As came back, you sat on your knees and watched him cross the room. There was a table stacked with presents in the corner. You only just noticed it as he looked it over and picked out one wrapped in gold paper.

He neared and held it out to you. You took it and ran your finger over the edge. “Your gift is in my bag,” you tried to stand and he waved you off.

“Later,” he said, “Open it.”

You slid your finger under a fold and tore. You slowly unwrapped the box; black and shiny. You crumpled the paper and dropped it on the table. You wiggled the lid off a revealed a pair of black furry cuffs. You giggled.

“Thanks,” you looked up at him.

“Stand up,” he said.

“W-Why?” You tilted your head.

“You gotta try them on,” he grinned, “Come on. Just a little bit of fun.”

“I don’t know, I never--”

“I know you didn’t come here just for steak so come on, get up.” He demanded, “And turn around.”

You bit down as you stared up at him. You wanted to laugh but the lines in his forehead warned you he was serious. He bent and took the cuffs from you and set the box aside. You stood, numb and shaky. You didn’t believe it. He wasn’t going to--

He spun you around and swept your arms behind you. You tried to pull away as he caught your left wrist in a cuff and quickly hooked the other. They closed tight around your wrists and he tugged on the link as if to test them.

You stared at the artificial flames licking at the glass. He cupped your ass and dragged his hands around to grip your hips.

“They look nice,” he purred, “Oh, baby.”

He bent and nuzzled your neck as he brought his arms around you and kneaded your tits. He pushed them up as he nibbled at your skin.

“These… are perfect,” he kissed you and teased your flesh with his teeth. “Fuck.”

He pulled down the top of your dress and bared your chest. You wriggled and he hugged your waist he kept you close.

“What are you doing, baby? Where are you going to go?” He tweaked your nipple, “Dressed like a little slut.”

“Hey,” you gasped and he retracted his hand to smack your ass.

He hushed you as his fingers crept down your thigh and he rolled up your skirt an inch at a time. “What are these?” He snapped your panties, “You don’t need those.” He pulled them below your ass and they fell to your ankles. “Let me show you what an old man does better than any kid.”

He reached around you and tickled your pelvis. He raised his head and inhaled the scent of your scalp as his hot breath glossed over your head.

“Don’t be shy now… or would you feel better with a camera?” He taunted. “Hmmm?”

“Hu--Ransom,” you uttered.

“Come on,” he forced his hand between your legs and flicked between your folds. “What did you think this was? How long did you think I’d wait?”

“No, but--” You gasped as he toyed with your clit, “Ransom.”

“Say it again,” he swirled his fingers.

You gulped and moaned as he rubbed harder. Your legs quaked around his hand as he slid his fingers further back. You felt your arousal slicken as he spread it over your cunt and poked around your entrance. He slid a finger inside of you as he wiggled his crotch against your hands.

“Is this what you came for? Or did you want all of me?” He pushed another finger in. “You want me inside you, baby? Stretching you?”

You groaned as he curled his fingers and pressed the hell of his hand to your clit. He rocked his hand and cried out. Your legs cramped as your feet curled in the high stilettos.

“It doesn’t really matter what you came for,” he pushed on your shoulder until you bent forward. He caught the middle of the cuffs and held you like that. “I’m gonna get what I want.”

You closed your eyes and whined as he pulled his fingers out of you. You quivered and he spanked you before he withdrew his hand entirely. You felt him fumbling behind you as you shook your head. As you had been since you met him, you were off-balance. You couldn’t decide if what he wanted was what you wanted too.

You felt a prod along your ass. He brushed his tip down your cheek and poked between your legs. He wetted himself on your folds and pushed along your entrance. Slowly, he slid into you, grunting as he sank past his tip. Deeper and deeper until you threw your head up and moaned. He filled you completely; painfully and delightfully.

“Yeah, you want me.” He hissed as he thrust and jerked your body. “You want to be mine, don’t you?”

You hummed as he moved against you, your shoulders straining as he tugged on the cuffs.

“Say it. Say you want to be mine.”

“Ah,” you moaned, “I want-- to-- I-- I’m yours.”

“You’re mine, baby,” he snarled, “All mine. Aren’t you?”

“Y-y-yes,” your eyes rolled back as he sped up.

He rammed into you so hard your legs buckled. He growled and followed you down. He bent you over the table as swept the bucket and vase out of the way. He got to his knees as he pinned you over the top and crushed your hips against the edge. Your cheek was hot against the cool table as he jolted you.

“Mine,” he grunted, “Baby, all mine…”

He rutted into you as his voice mingled with yours. You whimpered as your legs tingled and your core bloomed. You let out a feral whine as you came, convulsing beneath him as he gripped the table above your shoulder.

“You want me.” He rasped, “You want me to cum in you.”

“I-I-I…” You twisted your hands as you struggled to think; struggled to do more than murmur wildly.

“Fuck.” He swore and you felt him burst.

He slowed as he slapped the table and when he stilled, he held himself over you and his breath sent a shudder through you. He sat back on his knees and slid out of you. His cum spilled down your thigh and you slumped down against him. He pinched the velvet bunched around our waist.

“You got more gifts to open, baby,” he slapped your ass as he stood, “You think you can keep up with an old man like me?”

#dark!ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale #dark ransom drysdale #knives out #ransom drysdale x reader #fic #one shot #request #merry chris-mas #seasonal #holiday fic

995 notes · View notes

crazyotakugal · 3 years ago

Text

Tangled Despair

Shouta Aizawa x Reader >Multi-part Fluff Lemon

You’re an ex con trying to go straight when you meet the Erasure hero by chance one night. Due to some crazy happenings, you end up spending a night together. However, family problems pull you further into the underworld and a year later, you once again meet the hero, but this time you’re an enemy. Entangled with the Yakuza world, forced to be their doctor and a caregiver to poor little, Eri.

Slight story plot change to the original and OC introductions. Just had this after watching season 4.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part one:

Tangled Bodies

You grumbled as the bar you worked at was getting rowdy. This always happened after the local villains in the area would rampage then a few days later, it’d die down once a pro hero would round them up. The whole area used to be Yakuza territory, but the city now deemed it their priority to clean it up. So they’d been sending pro heroes to help battle back the thugs.

Lately, it seemed to make things worse. Your neighbors, local thug boys, would bang on your door all hours for you to heal them. You’d have no choice because your older brother owed them tons of money and if you didn’t want to be healing much worse injuries in him, you’d just do it as fast as possible.

As a kid, your parents would charge money for people to be healed by you until they got busted by a pro hero in a botched robbery. Note your brother would use your ability to pay his outstanding debt. Those people not the most reputable kind either which is why you had a red mark on your record. You’d been drug to a hideout by your brother to heal a gun shot wound, a pro came, and because you’d been an accomplice technically, you ended up with jail time forever with you.

Now, the only honest job you could get was at this bar. It wasn’t the greatest place, but the owner was a good person and it was an actual honest paycheck. You didn’t want to go down the road of crime like your family did and wanted to break free of these chains holding you back.

“Hey y/n, get me another pint!” A usual called to you from across the bar.

You pull your h/c hair up into a pony tail, “Yeah you got it!”

As you started to fill orders, some noise across the bar drew your attention. Patrons started jumped out of the way, causing things to crash over.

“You bastard!! What did you say?!” This boar looking thug roars at this dark haired guy with a grey scarf. The size difference between the two was obvious, the boar guy was 8ft or so and the raven haired guy was a little over 6ft!

“I said I’m here to bring you in, Pig Face,” the guy’s voice rang out coolly.

‘Oh, he must be a pro then.’

The boar guy growled at the guy. You could make out the veins in his head from the bar. You had your hands close to the emergency button just in case. Sometimes both the thugs and pros would get out of hand and an ambulance would need to be called. The pro hero didn’t flinch he just stood there, he had on a set of goggles over his eyes. You’ve heard about a pro with goggles…what was his name again?

The boar thugs buddies now standing behind him, normal patrons hurrying out of the way. The guy still didn’t flinch.

“Try it, jackass!!” The boar roars and you see the goons gearing up their Quirks.

‘Oh great!’

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Thanks so much, Eraserhead!!” The cops are gushing over the brooding pro.

Pretty much, he erased the goons powers then when the boar guy charged in anger, he took him out with his scarf along with the rest of the goons. Thankfully, just some broken mugs and a couple of tables was the damage. None of the customers had been injured either.

You were a few feet away, giving your statement to the police officer. Your hit the button, but it really wasn’t necessary. It was over in ten minutes. You watched the hero from the corner of your eye, he looked rather annoyed with all the praise. Not like most pros who seem to suck it up. He was rather good looking despite his scruffy appearance. His dark long hair looked soft and his thoughtful eyes were bloodshot. You noticed on his left arm the stain of red through his dark clothing.

During the fight, a goon had pulled a knife, it looked like he dodged it, but apparently not. After you’d given your statement, you cautiously approached him.

“Uh, excuse me,” You wonder if you even spoke loud enough for him at first, but those dark eyes turn their attention to you.

“Thank you very much for your help,” You smiled at him with a genuine smile.

He rubs the back of his head and shoves a hand into his pocket, “it’s no problem. My job and all.”

You reach over and touch the wound on his arm, “You did get hurt though.”

You see the teeniest blush on his cheeks, “It’s nothing.”

You roll your eyes at his macho act and grab his upper arm leading him inside. He looks a bit shocked as you do, putting a tiny bit of resistance.

“What are you…?” He questions, looking down at your dragging him inside.

“I’m actually a healer! So shut up and let me heal that wound as a thank you for keeping my cleanup job to a minimal,” You order the hero, who just grins at your cheekiness.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You clean up the blood and take in the damage. It wasn’t very bad at all, but it did need stitches normally. You were able to heal something like this no sweat.

“Ok, just relax. It’ll take a few minutes for me to heal this,” You give an ordered glare at him.

Eraser just gives you another grin and watches you heal the cut on his arm. You had spunk that was for sure, but working at a dive like this you had to be tough. He liked that in a girl. But usually, folks working here were ex cons or villains. You didn’t look like you were either, but looks were deceiving.

He studied you carefully. Your h/c pulled back into a high pony tail leaving the locks to spill over your enticing shoulders and neck. Your e/c orbs carefully inspecting his inquiry, your plump lips gently being nibbled on by your teeth, and your body was delectable to say the least. The cold shoulder tee you were wearing hugging your breasts just right and the black shorts giving him a good eyeful of your soft legs. He caught himself day dreaming about running his hands up and down those thighs, what you tasted like on his lips.

“Ok, all done,” your voice breaking his day dream.

He moved his arm around testing it. The pain was completely gone and there wasn’t even a scar there. He was pretty impressed. Not a lot of healers could do that.

“Thanks a lot,” his voice so sexy and low your body shivers.

You blush and stand up,” If you’d like, you’re welcome to stay and have a drink or two on the house.”

“Oh!” You just realized something, “my name is Y/N! What’s yours?”

He looks at your outstretched hand and gives you another of his sexy grins, “Shouta Aizawa.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You could feel your nerves on edge as you worked through the rest of your shift. Aizawa sitting down the bar, sipping his drink was hard to deal with. You were REALLY attracted to the pro hero and despite your lack of sex life, you were very much aware of the ache between your legs when you caught his eyes watching you. The feeling of them following you around the bar that evening, had your nerves on over sensitive alert.

“Well…hhheeellloooo Y/N!” You feel your heart drop.

Standing at the bar was Ryu, a one of the yakuza heads son. He was a small Time thug and his family had little or no influence anymore, but he still came around acting like he was king. The guy disgusted you and you wished he’d go away. Since you started here 6 months ago, he’d come in trying to get you to “have a good time with him”. The thought alone made you gag.

“Ugh, what do you want?” You roll your eyes. You weren’t gonna waste the effort of customer service on him.

His thugs chuckle and he acts hurt, “oh, love, don’t be like that! You know I love how you play hard to get?!”

You shiver in disgust,” order something or go. I have other customers here.”

You hoped he’d get the hint and just leave. He’d been annoyingly trying to get in your pants for months now. Trying every cheesy line in the book. You thought he was scum in a bad blue suit. You had no interest in being one of his girls now or ever. You didn’t now what Quirk he had, but you’d heard that it was partly why he was actually popular with the local girls. You really didn’t see why though personally. The guy was a joke.

“Hey no need to be rude! I’m hoping you’d thought about my offer from the other night,” he grinned.

A few nights ago, he’d approached you with an “offer”. Which was you in his bed whenever he desired in exchange for money. You’d turn him down flat out. You weren’t a whore. In fact, you’d never even really done anything with a guy because once the gate opened, every guy you’d heal would want you to sleep with him. Your brother already tried the pitch to you, but there was so way you’d sink that low. You already hated having to do the back room healings.

“You obviously didn’t understand the last time, so let me be blunt,” You took a deep breath and looked him right in his bug eyes, “There’s no FUCKING way that I’d EVER in this universe sleep with your nasty ass!”

You swore you could hear the pro hero just a few feet down choke on his drink and Ryu’s face turns red from anger. His goons trying to stifle their laughter behind him making him even angrier. His dull eyes shooting pure hatred at you.

“You little bitch! You think you’re so much better than me?! With your brother’s debt and all, you’d think you’d think about it more carefully,” He sneers at you, “After all, it’s just a matter of time before he gets desperate and offers you up on that table. Bet you’d be begging me to be my pet then?!”

He grabs your arm tightly. You feel a burning sensation like he was trying to burn your limb off. It hurt so bad that you screamed in pain, trying to free yourself. His eyes straight up crazy as he smiles. You suddenly feel the pressure on your arm released when a black boot comes into contact with Ryu’s head sending him flying across the bar.

~~~~~~~~Aizawa POV~~~~~~~~

He’d been content watching you the whole night. He didn’t know what it was, but his eyes were glued to you. You were witty and blunt, he could tell that just by talking to you. You were also quick and efficient at your job, even though it wasn’t a high end job, it still showed you put real effort into it which he admired. Not a lot of women like you around. Not to mention, you were die hard sexy.

Sure he was sticking around because another target was usually sighted here, but looking at you was a bonus. He even caught himself getting a little jealous when you flirted with some of the customers even though he knew it was all work. A part of working at a bar no matter where, but it still urked him. However, it did please him to see you look over at him and visibly get flustered. Your reaction very cute. He wondered what other cute reactions he could get from you.

That’s when that scum bag came into the bar. The one he’d be waiting for, he secretly hoped he wouldn’t show up that way he could enjoy himself all night watching you. Though this was the reason he was here in the first place. He felt enraged when he came towards you and starting eyeing you up and down like a treat.

He almost choked on his drink when he heard that leave your mouth. That fire in you was such a turn on. When the guy grabbed your arm and hearing You scream in agony, he flew from his spot on pure instinct. He felt nothing but pure satisfaction when his boot came in contact with the guy’s face. He felt the crunch of a broken jaw on the impact.

‘Good. Punk won’t be able to open his trap for awhile.’

The guy was sent flying right into his goons taking them out as well. He rushes over to you huddled on the floor, cradling your arm against your chest.

“Let me see,” he tells you pulling the arm away from you.

There weren’t any marks there at all. Not even a hand print. If he’d broken it, there’d be some bruising but he couldn’t even detect that. It looked completely fine, but you were giving the distinct whines and whimpers of pain. Your face was flushed and your lips quivering. He scooped you up in his arms and you gave an alarming cry. Squirming in his arms uncomfortably. Was it something to do with that guys quirk?!

Poison maybe?!

He carried you into that back room, informing your boss of the situation. He’d already called the police. Aizawa placed you down onto the couch, feeling you grip his shirt in pain. You were burning up and your e/c eyes glazed over.

“So hot…” You moan out.

He goes and gets a cool rag, placing it on your head, “it’s ok y/n. I got you.”

He’s caught off guard when you reach up, wrapping your arms around his neck, bringing his lips crashing against your own.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So hot…” you moan it.

Your body was on fire! It felt like it was consuming you from the inside out. Your skin over sensitive and burning up. Each time Aizawa touched you, you were overcome with an agonizing throbbing between your legs. Rubbing your thighs together just made it worse.

You wanted to take your clothes off and be free of the stuffy material. It was almost suffocating to have them on. The ache was shooting through your whole body. It was too much. You wanted…needed…relief from this!

‘Please help me!’

It seemed aizawa’s presence only made the ache worse. It was screaming at you! He must have a way to relieve this! He leans in so close, his cologne overwhelming you even more, the cool rag doesn’t help the inferno within.

“It’s ok, y/n. I got you,” he whispers to you.

‘Please helpe me…’

You feel yourself reach out and wrap your arms around the pros neck, but you can’t stop yourself. You feel your lips capture his and your body pressing itself against his. It only brings a tiny bit of relief.

‘Not enough!’

His hands on your shoulders makes you shudder with an unknown need as he pushes you away. You want desperately for those hands to bring you the relief your body was aching for.

“Y/n! Stop! What’s wrong?” He looks down at you with his cheeks now flushed.

You squirm uncomfortably underneath him, arching your back, “I…don’t…know. My body is so hot! It’s burning! I need…something…but I don’t know what!”

Your fingers start to run over your own body with a will of their own. This was killing you! Your breath hitches as you feel them dance under your shirt onto your bare stomach, slowly working themselves upwards, bunching your shirt up at the same time exposing your skin to the Erasure hero’s eyes. You see his Adam’s Apple move hard as he swallows back a moan.

His eyes suddenly glow red and his dark hair stands up. Was he trying to erase the quirk affecting you? But you didn’t feel anything change. His eyes full of concern as you whimper in pain. You couldn’t stop, you needed him. Your body telling you he was the key to ending this suffering. You grind your lower half against his, squealing when you feel the bulge forming there.

“Y/n!” He chokes out looking down at you with pained eyes, “It’s that punk’s quirk doing this to you! You gotta fight it!”

It’s like he’s a million miles away even though he was hovering above you holding you back. You couldn’t even register what he was saying to you. You could feel your mind slipping away and this need overtake you.

“Ppppllleeeaassseee!” You arch your back again, “help me! It’s too much!”

You hear him growl above you and visibly trying to hold himself back. Your shirt now bunch just below your heaving chest, you lick your swollen lips, and let out a lewd moan. The hands on your shoulders trembling now. His control slipping away.

You reach your hands up, trailing them against his clothed chest. You could feel the outline of muscle under the dark cloth. You hear his breath hitch in his throat. You feel them slide upwards gently scratching his neck with your nails.

“I don’t know what to do, but please help me! Anything!” You toss your head back, “anything to stop this!”

“Fuck!” You hear him say before his lips come down onto yours.

The kiss was fiery and full of need. His hands now working themselves under your shirt, finger tips grazing your bare skin. You scream against his lips as his hands alone flood you with relief but it neatly wasn’t enough. His hands causing your body to shudder as they slide under the cups of your bra on top of your hardened nipples. The sensation is so overwhelming to you, bringing tears to your eyes.

“Are you ok? Does it hurt?” He asks you with concern.

You shake your head side to side, “I don’t…think…so. I’ve never been touched like…ah!”

Your back arches up into his touch. Your skin was so hot to the touch. So welcoming to his touch. He could feel the softness of your breasts in his hands and the way just touching them made you wiggle and squirm. What did you mean by that? Surely you’d been with a man with your body.

“Oh God, Aizawa!” Your body spasms as a climax rakes your body.

The thought itself made the pro hero shudder and bite back a growl. The thought that he was the first man to see these lewd reactions of yours. To see this lovely skin. Especially when you came just from the menstruations of his hands on your breasts. He bit the inside of his cheek when he pulled your shorts down your legs. Your f/c panties were already soaking wet.

He slid his finger carefully up and down over your soaking slit. Geez you were just absolutely soaking! His member throbbed painfully against the zipper of his pants. You looked breathe taking with your shirt and bra bunched up over your bare heaving chest, face twisted in absolute bliss, and your cunt already soaked and ready. If it was true you’d never been with another man, he’d have to control himself so not to hurt you.

“So you’re saying that no one’s ever touched you like this before?” His voice coming out so rough.

You sob as his fingers stop dip into your folds finding your swollen clit. Your hips shoot up off the couch, your head tossed back, your nails digging into the couch. It was so powerful this feeling. His touch threatening to devour you.

You could barely get your voice out to respond, “N…no!” Tears streaming down your cheeks now, “I’ve never…ah…done that…before…ever!”

Aizawa closed his eyes, letting out a low growl as he dips a finger into you. God you were so freaking tight and just drenched! He feels you clamp down hard onto his finger, more of your honey coating his hand as another orgasm slams into you. Your hips shake and spasm as it rocks your body. He couldn’t believe with such a lewd body like this that no guy had ever experienced it. He was secretly thanking that goon in the back of his head.

He slips another finger into your tightness once your high dies down groaning at the feel of you squeezing his digits. He wanted to make sure you could handle him though. You were already way wet enough for him in fact you were like a river right now.

“My God you’re absolutely sexy, you know that?” You whimper underneath him, “I can’t believe I get the delight of experiencing this gorgeous body of yours all to myself.”

Your mind was completely gone by now. You just wanted relief. You wanted him to give it you. You couldn’t handle this anymore! Your body screamed for it!

“Pl…ah…please!” Tears rolling down your face, “Sh…shota!!”

You feel the hero above you tremble when he hears his first name leave your lips. How could he deny you any longer?

You feel emptiness when he removes his fingers from your dripping core. You could feel your walls clenching to be filled again. The sound of rustling fabric and a zipper don’t register to you at all as he removes his pants and under garments freeing his aching cock.

He’s so hard right now that it was pointed upwards at full attention with droplets of precum already collecting at the swollen head. He was huge! You could feel the throbbing intensify looking at him and if it wasn’t for the affects of Ryu’s quirk running through your body, you’d be terrified of the thing in front of you.

Your hand has a mind of its own as it reaches forward wrapping your fingers around the swollen organ. Aizawa groans and closes his eyes as your clumsy fingers dance up and down his length. Your pussy screaming for the thing to fill it and stretch it. To feel it nestled deep inside.

Aizawa growls as he grabs your arm pulling you onto his lap on the couch, his staff pressed up right against your slick folds of your sex. He bucks his hips a bit causing you to gasp. His strong hands grabbing your hips lifting you into the air. Your juices dripping down onto his throbbing need.

“Grab my shoulders and relax. I’ll be as gentle as possible,” his voice so rough as he slowly lines himself up to your entrance.

You brace yourself on his broad shoulders as you feel his tip probe you before you feel more of himself to follow. Almost agonizing, he slowly fills your tight pussy with his cock, trying to keep himself from just slamming you down onto it. You’re so freaking tight it’s almost painful as you slowly take him all the way to the base finally. A slight whimper of pain leaves your lips as you sit on his length. You could feel the tip already hitting the entrance of your womb.

“You’re so freaking tight, kitten!” He groans out giving his hips a test buck into yours earning a noise of pleasure, “I’m so happy I’m the first guy to feel this! I don’t wanna let it go! So hot and wonderful!”

His hips start angling up into yours causing an enormous amount of ecstasy to shoot through your body. No words are able to leave you as Aizawa starts to pound into you from below, hitting that spot inside you right off the bat. The sound of loud moans and slapping skin filling the room. You were shaking at the pure sensation that hit you from feeling his cock stretch your walls as he’d push into back into you then pulling out and doing it again. The relief washing over you almost made you choke.

‘This! This!’

Aizawa lets out the sexiest moan ever as he feels your heavenly cunts start to spasm already around him. Your juices making a mess of his lap. Watching the look of sheer bliss wash over your lovely face as you cum. The moans leaving your lips like music to his ears. You almost drag him over the edge with you.

Unable to control yourself any longer, you grab the back of the couch and start to eagerly fuck yourself on the Erasure hero’s throbbing length. His lips sucking and nipping on your exposed neck as you ride him with your head tossed back in euphoric delirium. The relief you had been begging him for so close! All kinds of lewd noises falling from your lips as you bounce up and down. Those big hands now gripping your hips helping you move.

You clench the back of the couch with your nails and almost sob uncontrollably as your walls begin to flutter around him again. He’s unable to stop himself at this point and continues to slam your spasming core down onto his dick. The squeals and screams of delight leaving you only spurred him on as his length continues to pound you through your climax. Your brain completely checked out at this point.

“T…too much! It’s too much!” You squeak out as he keeps pounding into your over sensitive hole.

One arm snakes around your waist as the other hand weaves its way into your h/c locks at the base of your skull, pulling your lips down for a heated kiss. At this point you both are too far gone to stop or care about anything else. All you knew is the relief you so desperately needed was so close now. You can feel him twitching inside you now and the quivering of your pussy signaling the your own climax.

“Sh…sh…Shota! Somethings coming!” You sob out desperately feeling yourself so close to tumbling over an even higher edge than before.

His hands plant themselves on your hips, giving them a warning squeeze. However, you couldn’t stop yourself. Your body moving on it’s own wanting to be thrown over that edge with him deeply buried inside you. The pro hero growls deeply in his chest, his fingers digging in now trying to still your movements.

“Oh God, kitten, you gotta…,” He growls again, fighting for control, “stop! I’m so close! You’re squeezing me so tight! God I’m gonna lose it! You gotta stop!”

The words didn’t register through your delirious state. Your body couldn’t stop. Wouldn’t stop until it had the relief it was so needing. Your hips begin to shake and your breath coming it in rapid moans as you feel yourself reaching the cliff.

“I…oh God…can’t stop!” You’re sobbing out, “Please! Oh God! Please Shouta! I need it! Please! I need you!”

The thread finally snaps and your walls tighten around his cock as you cum…hard!

“Oh…f…fuck!” Aizawa chokes out as you clamp around his dick, successfully sending him tumbling over with you. You feel his length spasm violently inside your quivering walls, filling you up with his very essence. The heat of his seed burning the inside of you walls as he shoots it deep inside of you. The sensation feels like a starving man drinking water almost as the relief of finally getting what you need hits you.

He’s still twitching inside you as you start to come down and lay your head on his heaving chest. Your hole still occasionally tightening around him as both your climaxes start to fade. Your combined fluids coating both your inner thighs and his pooling below on the couch along with subtle hints of red. You were no longer a virgin.

Both of you just sit there for what seems like forever, not saying anything, but still connected. You felt a wave of shame and guilt wash over you as reality started to creep in. Even though it was Ryu’s fault, you’d still practically raped a pro hero! Your face burning bright red as you bravely peek up at Aizawa’s face. His eyes were closed and his eye brows knitted together. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking about.

‘Is he going to arrest me now? Or think I’m some kind of whore? Or think now he can use me as a plaything?!’

Sensing your anxiety, he cracks his eyes open to look at you. He could see the panicked expression on your face. He reaches up and cups your cheek in his hand, your e/c orbs meeting his.

“Are you ok?” Worried he might’ve gotten too carried away.

You just nod, dumbfounded.

He gently and carefully lifts you off his lap, silently missing himself sheathed inside your heat. He feels a ping of guilt when he notices the remnants of blood giving fact that this had been your first time. He’d cursed himself for being so weak willed. He just couldn’t stand seeing you like that for some reason. It was harder to think of what would have happened if that creep had his way with you like this instead. He’d just met you, but it felt like you were this bit of light amongst the darkness he could cling to.

He feels panic rise up when he sees tears start to roll down your face. He must’ve really hurt you bad and really messed up big time. He couldn’t imagine how hard you must’ve fought all those thugs and creeps from having their war with you just to have a so called hero like him take it away.

“I’m…hiccup…so…sorry!” You cry. The sense of shame too much.

Your words stun him for a moment. He didn’t expect you to be apologizing to him! You’d been the victim in this after all!

“No! I should be sorry for doing that to you! I should’ve been able to control myself better,” he rubs your lower back trying to soothe you.

You felt this sudden wave of relief hit you. Maybe it was the shock of everything or your weird brain, but the guilt you felt fell away hearing that he felt responsible for this just as much as you did. Truth was, you didn’t regret losing your virginity to him. The whole thing felt pretty freaking amazing in fact. You could tell that Aizawa was a genuinely good guy.

Your tears finally stop, but the most shocked look paints his face when you start to laugh. Was this part of that damn Quirks effects? You give him a heartwarming big smile.

You gently cup his scruffy face in your palms and plant a kiss on his cheek earning a bewildered blush from the hero.

“It…it’s ok. I don’t blame you at all. If anything it’s that dumbass’s fault.” You reassure him, thankful it actually had been him instead of the scum bag, Ryu.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aizawa had helped you clean up and carefully got you dressed. He had treated you like you were this delicate thing in his hands, dressing you with such care. You felt very swore as you sat at the bar now as the paramedics looked you over.

The police had showed up when you two emerged from the back room. The Erasure hero handled the whole thing with an admirable calm attitude. Explaining that Ryu had “poisoned” you causing a high fever which he’d helped with first aide and his quirk. You really didn’t want to tell what ACTUALLY happened between the two of you for both your reputations sake. He’d be strung up in the pro hero world and you’d become the hero whore of the neighborhood targeted by thugs and such as an example.

The paramedics said you’d be fine and left the bar. You watched Aizawa talk to the police, his eyes occasionally darting at you. Your heart ached as you felt this gap form between you. There was no way anything good would come from this. He was a pro hero and you were technically an ex con/bar maid with a family criminal background. You didn’t want your poison to drag him down.

Buzz! Buzz! Buzz!

You feel your phone vibrate in your back pocket. The caller id showed your brother’s name. Odd…did he hear about the altercation with Ryu and calling out of concern?

‘Unlikely…’

He usually called for two reasons; money or getting you to heal someone. You really weren’t in the mood to deal with his crap tonight. You hit the snooze button and shove your phone back into your pocket.

Buzz! Buzz! Buzz!

It was him again. Your growl in annoyance as you answer the call. Ready to tear him a new one.

“Listen bro! I’m not in the mood for your bull…” You snap.

“Miss y/n?” An unfamiliar voice came from the other end causing your blood to freeze.

“My name is Overhaul. We have your big brother here at our social club,” You hear snickers in the background, “we’d like to invite you along to meet with us about his outstanding debt with us.”

You feel anger well up in you, “Well I’ll very much like to decline the invitation, thank you very much. I’m sorry, but I don’t have any money myself and I’m not able to do any healing this evening.”

You hear Overhaul laugh on the other end,” So cold! Aren’t you worried for your brother?”

“He should be used to getting a beating by now. It’s good to keep him from doing stupid shit like this again,” You bluntly spat out.

“Oh no Miss y/n. This time he’ll be killed,” Your heart drops when you hear a sickening snap on the other end of the line followed by your brother’s screams of agony.

“Please do reconsider the offer, will you? We could use a healer of your caliber…”

Your world from then on was completely turned upside down. Leading you down the path of death and sorrow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Okay! That’s it for part one! 😉 I really hope you enjoyed the story! Let me know if I should do part Two or not!! 👍👍👍

#bhna smut #reader #aizawa shouta #my hero academia #bnha #shouta aizawa x reader #aizawa fanfiction #aizawa x reader #eraserhead #eraserhead x reader #aizawa x reader smut

130 notes · View notes

nicsalazar · 3 years ago

Text

We build || Nicole & Tepin

TIMING: Few weeks ago LOCATION: The night market PARTIES: @cattale & @nicsalazar SUMMARY: Nicole wants to confirm her suspicions about Tepin, but ends up being a terrible detective. CONTENT WARNING: Drug mentions (catnip???)

It wasn’t dark yet, but Nicole already wandered around the farmer’s market, watching it come to life, gearing up for another night shift. Pax trotted about freely, his newfound appreciation for their night walks evident in his desire to run everywhere. Now that there were no roots or giant trees to worry about, it was possible. She had planned her walk in that specific area with the intention of stopping by Tepin’s stand eventually. Curiosity, that was all. Tepin had invited her. Sort of. That might have been a pleasantry or an attempt at gaining another customer, but still.

Having spotted the woman already, Nicole kept her distance, debating whether or not to approach. It felt wrong, watching someone without their awareness. But it couldn’t be much more different than a jaguar watching their prey. Not that— she was mortified by entertaining that thought. They weren’t animals. Neither of them were prey. She was suspicious, sure. But it wasn’t her style to get up in her face and just ask all the questions she wanted to ask. So instead, she approached slowly, until Tepin could be alerted of her presence. “Need a hand with anything?” she bit the inside of her cheek, nervous. She pointed at herself, “Nicole” came after a beat, because fuck it would’ve been embarrassing if she didn’t remember her.

“Nicole?” Tepin’s eyes widened in surprise. She did not expect her newly made friend to make an appearance tonight, of all nights, when she was just getting back to the swing of things. The recent mess with the giant tree, among other stranger and dangerous things, made her own appearances in the Farmer’s Night Market scarce, though she was not sorely missed. Those that needed to, well, they knew where her cabin was anyway, and those that didn’t need her and her produce as much kept themselves safe and secure, away from the Outskirt’s menaces. “What are you doing here? It’s so good to see you!”

Tepin went in with a warm hug, not even hesitating for a bit. Despite only meeting once, there was nothing else that made her feel bound to a new person than the threat of imminent death. To this day, Tepin still had no idea what that whole thing with the demon tree trying to take Nicole out was about, if it was anything more serious, if the creature was now and truly long gone, but she decided to focus on the positives after her own adventure with the guy from the Tourism Board and the captain of the Salmon Ella. “How are you? Are you okay? Do YOU need anything? You look amazing! I’m so glad to meet you again!”

“I… Oh–” They were hugging. Nicole let out a huff, unable to predict the action. And it wasn’t even even a weak one, Tepin was really embracing her. Okay. The initial shock caused her to tense, but she forced herself to act normal. Some people hugged strangers. Apparently Tepin was some people. She tapped the woman’s back lazily, until she could finally breathe again. And…there was that familiar scent again. The main reason she had stopped by. She couldn’t be certain — she never was — but she wasn’t wrong. An animal scent lingered on Tepin as they parted. Maybe she had pets. She didn’t want to get her hopes up.

“Just…uh,” Pax jumped at the occasion, tail wagging uncontrollably as he came up to meet Nicole’s new friend, and providing her with a decent explanation for her presence. “Yeah, this is– he needed a walk, clearly. And…and I saw the market so I figured–” She shrugged, watching her dog greet Tepin. She realized then that she had the perfect segway. “Pets, hm. You have any?” She shoved her hands inside her jacket, looking around the other stands. “I’m okay. No demon trees in sight. Everything’s growing again” my friends are dead, she didn’t say, but forced a smile instead. “It’s good to be able to go out again. And… and to visit–” a friend? Something felt wrong about calling a stranger she met once a friend. “I was hoping to see you here” she settled for, glancing back at the woman. “But uh, what about you? Can I give you a hand?”

“Aww, who’s this little fellow?” As soon as Tepin let Nicole go, her attention was immediately drawn to her friend’s friendly furball friend! She forgot all the worries and doubts she previously had with dogs, the concern that this one might be able to sniff her out, what she was, her so-called condition, even spook the jaguar within. None of that came to mind, though, all of which washed away by its cuteness, the positive energy it shared with her through all that tail wagging. “Oh, uhm, me? I have…a cat,” she lied, obviously. “But she comes and goes. Can’t really control her, you know? Won’t even let me try. Cats, am I right?”

Tepin returned to her stall, and she gestured for Nicole and her cutie patootie friend to follow her, moving some fresh produce out of the way, clearing a spot on the counter just in case they needed to rest their elbows or even plop Nicole’s dog. “I don’t think we’ll ever see one of those again,” Tepin chirped, proud of her contribution in removing the massive tree from the equation and keeping the town safe, even though she barely did anything at Hanging Rock. “Oh, I’m fine. I just got everything set up again. It’s been a while, but it still feels nice… Are you sure you’re okay, though? If you need to talk about something, I’m the perfect wallflower. I can’t gossip. Don’t have that many people to talk to!” She chuckled to herself, stealing another glimpse of the dog. How she envied Nicole for finding such a friend.

Suspicions and real intentions didn’t stop Nicole from smiling warmly at the sight of Tepin and her dog being friendly. “Pax. He’s usually a lot calmer, you know? Uh, he must really like you” she observed, raising a curious eyebrow. Or maybe, he was picking up the familiar scent as well. “Oh”. When Tepin answered the question, she couldn’t ignore her disappointment, even if she tried. It was heavy in her stomach, and Nicole felt stupid for even considering the idea in the first place. There were far more logical explanations. “You do?” Tepin had a cat. That must be what she was picking out. Of course. Not— “Cats. Yeah, cats are okay… I like them too. What’s her name?” It wasn’t the answer she wanted to hear, but she could still get to know Tepin.

She followed the other woman to her stall, eyes darting around the place. Nicole was reminded of her family, of her grandparent’s stand. She insisted on helping out when she was a kid, even though she wasn’t much help at all. But it was fun, and before tragedy struck, she always imagined she’d grow up to take care of the business herself. She nodded, careful not to dive too deep into those painful memories. “Yeah!” her voice was airy, uncharacteristically upbeat. “I’m… I’m, I’m alright. Yes.” She chuckled at the suggestion of gossip, shaking her head. She didn’t have anything scandalous to talk about. “Uh, sounded like we had some things in common– so,” this is me trying to do the whole, friendship thing. Before she could finish her sentence, a scent under her nose caught her attention. “Is…I– is it me or– you have catnip around?” she stepped back, careful not to inhale too sharply.

It was almost strange, when it finally dawned on Tepin how dogs usually barked at her aggressively. She wasn’t quite sure why, but they seemed to know the danger that lurked underneath her own existence, the predator within that she could not even dream of controlling. If Tepin thought more about it, perhaps she would realize that dogs could most likely smell the jaguar’s scent. If Tepin thought more about it, perhaps she would even come to the theory that this dog, Pax, might already be familiar with the scent, used to it or even friendly with someone like her. Unfortunately, Tepin preferred to sweep thoughts like those under the rug, choosing instead to focus on the good that comes out of every encounter. “Pax? Isn’t that Latin for something? Aww, he’s such a good boy!”

“Tepin,” she blurted out without even thinking, only realizing how much it could be a dead giveaway. But she could still twist it into something more believable, can’t she? “I, uhh, call my cat Tepin, too.” She let out a chuckle, scratching her head. Oh, god, how am I even still alive?! “I guess I’m just vain sometimes. It actually means little one, so it seemed appropriate at the moment.” Another lie, though she could definitely see it happening in another life maybe, one where she wasn’t harboring a monster within. “You also don’t have that many people to talk to?” Tepin was a little confused. Sure, Nicole seemed a little shy and stuff, but she also seemed nice and sweet. Or was she just projecting? She gave her a big smile and took out huge ziplock bags filled with catnip. “Sure do! One of my bestsellers!” She exclaimed proudly then immediately yawned.

“Yes. Means peace, or– well, uh… it’s the most common meaning” And Nicole was happy to let people assume that was reason behind Pax’s name. It fit him, after all. But standing in front of Tepin, she figured she could explain things. Gauge her reaction. “I’m– I like history, sort of. Ah… my parents, they taught me a lot– growing up” she nodded towards Pax. “They liked the Maya culture and so– uh, in their calendar there’s a month…” Pax, Nicole smiled at her dog before slowly raising her gaze to meet Tepin’s. “Pax. I always thought… it was the best one, you know. Cause… cause the patron of the month Pax– it’s a jaguar”. Nicole tried not to cringe at how clumsily every word spilled from mouth. It was nice to talk choosing her dog’s name, even if it was a poorly disguised attempt at figuring Tepin out.

“Tepin” Nicole repeated, eyes narrowed in confusion, but a second later decided to mirror her chuckle. The woman was a little odd, she thought. But she found it a lot less stressful to talk to someone like her than someone who had it all figured out. Nicole wasn’t known for her conversational skills and if Tepin made it easier for her, she couldn’t really complain. “Oh, little one. Yeah, that fits a cat. Must be kinda weird to call for her, no?”

“I’ve people” Nicole confirmed, and felt the smile pull at her lips. She never expected it would feel so nice to be confident of that fact. “It’s.. the talking I have to practice. Working on it” she added, before she saw the bag Tepin pulled. Pretending she was interested in observing the other stands, Nicole distanced herself. At least, she wasn’t trapped inside an elevator being forced to inhale the scent, like last time. Out in the open, it was a lot more manageable. The back of her throat did tingle, though. “That’s…that’s great” she nodded, eyes still fixed on the bag. “I’ve heard some people are also affected by it, how crazy is that?” people who had felines inside, sure, but people nonetheless.

There were no lessons in Latin that her parents, or her mother’s best friend, taught Tepin. Most of the stranger ones were in another dead language, a long-lost sibling perhaps of the more popular classical language. With a smile, she listened intently to Nicole’s explanations and revelations. At the very last bit, she paused, her eyes widened in surprise, and she made the mistake, or perhaps the correct choice, to turn to her new friend right in their eyes. “A jaguar? That’s…interesting.”

“Yeah,” Tepin heaved an audible sigh with that word but retained her big grin. “Not that I like calling out for it, though. It just comes whenever it wants, does whatever it wants. Never even listens to me or what I want.” Tepin lost herself in her musings, oblivious to what she could be giving away. In her defense, she dared not think Nicole was out to get the jaguar, far even from the notion of her being like her. Tepin gave everyone else the benefit of the doubt, putting them on a much higher pedestal than herself.

Tepin snapped out of her reverie with the sweetest smile, elated at the idea of Nicole and her people. “Aww! That’s so nice. You might even have more people than me at the moment. That’s always nice,” she swooned, a little jealous but not in a bad way. She can still appreciate her newly made friend’s blessing without seeing as a slight at herself. Most people never do. “Oh, yeah, tell me about it.” Tepin chuckled, shaking her head. “I mean, it definitely helps me sleep and relax, calms me down like nothing else. My customers just use it for their pet, some even resell it, but me?” She heaved another sigh, this time of nostalgic euphoria. “It’s pretty useful when I need it to be.”

Nicole’s nod was short, noticing Tepin’s eyes widening. Should she find that reaction odd? “Right? Really is. I’m… I uh– I like that sorta thing” She was unsure. Maybe Tepin wasn’t giving anything away. Perhaps it was a natural reaction for someone learning a new fact. But it was worth noting, adding it to the list of things she found just a little suspicious about the girl. She offered a smile, before they moved from the topic.

Despite having the same name, Nicole didn’t think the cat story was particularly strange either. Cats could be little assholes sometimes, it made sense Tepin struggled with her. It was a little odd, however, that she referred to her cat as ‘it’. But– some people were less attached to their pets. Nicole realized right there, that she would’ve made a terrible detective. “Hm. Sounds like a real problem”. She felt bad for the woman. She would’ve been heartbroken if things hadn’t worked out with Pax. But she couldn’t offer much advice, cats and dogs were different.

“I could– I can be your people… too” Nicole said, biting the inside of her cheek in reprimand. She never thought there would be disadvantages to expressing herself. But blurting out things just because she felt them was clearly one. As opposed to the endless overthinking she was used to, which kept every word locked inside her until it was too late. She wasn’t sure if it was an adjustment period, but she wished it would end soon. “Just... an offer”, she didn’t think adding that made it any less awkward for her, but maybe it would for Tepin.

Either way, Nicole had better things to focus on. For example the fact that Tepin had revealed the effects catnip had on her like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Huh…” was there a glimmer of hope, maybe? As far she knew, catnip never worked on humans. Or any other animal shifter for that matter. There were better drugs for them. She glanced at the bag again, her lips curving involuntarily. Another step back, just for precaution. She didn’t want to act weird in front of Tepin. “Well that’s– that’s interesting. Hm. Thought they were just rumors” she figured it was best to switch subjects fast, keep those suspicions close to her chest. She squinted, signaling the bag. “Could I– I think I’ll buy one of those. For a friend” It wouldn’t hurt, you know. Take the edge off at the end of the day. While she pulled out her wallet, she tried to think of other questions that would help figuring Tepin out. “Salt” thoughts? “I mean, no. Hm– Salt, you got any around… I know it’s not your main– it’s not even– just remembered I don’t have any”.

“You like jaguars?” Tepin raised an eyebrow as she continued prepping her stall. She couldn’t recall how many people, friends even, she’d met who’d say they liked jaguars. Lions and tigers may be, but jaguars? They seem to be relegated to bit players as wild cats, outside of sports teams, anyway, not unlike when someone refers to latinos but only keep in mind Mexicans and Puerto Ricans. Tepin unintentionally shook her head, feeling uncomfortable with her own thoughts.

“It is,” Tepin heaved a sigh, furrowing her brow as she tried cleaning dirt from an onion or two. “Life might be better if I never met them.” She didn’t quite think that last part through, just raw emotions managing to escape her own filters. The balam had doubts whether that was even possible, not meeting the jaguar within. For all she knows, she was born with it. Might even die if they’re separated. Might not be such a bad thing. She feigned a cough, once again shaking her head. “Sorry, that was an awful thing to say. I just meant…things can be a little hard when they’re around.”

“Oh?” Tepin turned to Nicole with a look of surprise, uncertain what inspired that offer, rather possibility. Softly, she lingered on her face, finding some sort of familiarity with that expression. Was it loneliness? Longing? Regret? It all seemed so intimate to her, as if she was living in Nicole’s shoes. “That’s sweet,” she paused for a bit, looked away, and continued with another onion, though her mind was already wandering through half-imagined scenarios. Her lips curled into a smile, her cheeks growing a little red, when she turned to Nicole. “I would love that. People around me do tend to get…hurt, though, and I wouldn’t want to hurt someone like you.”

“Rumors?” Tepin raised another eyebrow before an overwhelming sense of giddiness and pride washed over her. Any time she could sell anything, she considered it a win, and those things, wins, were far and few in between for her. Quickly, she took a bag of catnip and a paper bag, placing the former in the latter, before wiping her hands and looking around for a pack of salt. Did she even have one? Ah, there it is. She had more than one. With a smile, she chucked that in there, too. Tepin mouthed the total price excitedly, though she did make sure to put just a dab of kindness in there, too. “The salt’s free. Consider it a neighbor thing, like asking for sugar.

Nicole could find the humor in Tepin’s question. In a weird, dark way. No– ironic, maybe. Did she like jaguars? “They’re okay. Cool beasts, my…my, uh– parents liked them a lot” she didn’t like to have one inside, that was all. She could still admire them in the wild. Her cousins or…something.

The possibility that Tepin was using animal analogies to speak of her real issue never occurred to her. For Nicole, it just sounded like someone who had a terrible relationship with their pet. Possibly, to the detriment of both parties. “Don’t know the whole— have you thought of letting them go? A shelter maybe…” Tepin had to be pretty tormented by this animal, judging by the way she spoke of it, so letting go might be the healthiest option.

Her smile mirrored Tepin’s, and she waited patiently as the woman let her offer sink in. Nicole frowned, curious by her wording. “Oh. I’m surprisingly… ah, what’s the–” she snapped her fingers, urging the words to come out. “Resilient? Like a cat, sorta. Nine lives and all”. Well, if she was really keeping score it would be more like, five and a half. But she wasn’t counting.

Pax walked around the other stands, looking to snatch food from the unattended stands, and focusing on him gave Nicole enough time to put her thoughts together. “But I understand. I do, really. That shit doesn’t feel good”. She used to be the one on Tepin’s shoes. Appreciating gestures, but struggling to take the next step. Mental barriers piling up to keep her away from what she really wanted. Connection. Nicole didn’t know when she ended up on the other side of the equation. But it was up to her not to let anyone else get through the world on their own. Would Alcher be proud of her? “Think about it. You know where I live. I know where you live– and…and work, yes” she let out a nervous laugh, taking the bag and sliding the money in return. No reaction to the mention of salt, she noticed. Nicole knew from the beginning she was reaching with that one. She didn’t think she could subtly draw a line of salt on the ground to truly test the other woman. “Oh, thank you”.

“Oh,” Tepin nodded, her smile fading to a lesser version of its usually wide self. She didn’t have any ill feelings towards jaguars in general, just one jaguar in specific, the one inside her, the one that kept popping out randomly, especially when it shouldn’t. Although not all jaguars were to blame for whatever condition she had, she couldn’t think past the one she hated whenever they crossed her mind. “They’re something, all right.”

Tepin clenched her jaw at the suggestion. Not so much because of anything deeper, just the nagging pain of being helpless when it came to the jaguar. She knew she was pretty much helpless when it came to most things, but Tepin has made her peace with the rest. With the jaguar, the parasite that ruined her life and endangered her own family, she doubted she ever would. Turning to Nicole, she tried to flash her a much warmer smile, not wanting to make her new friend feel bad. “I would if I could. No shelter would want her. Trust me.”

“I’m sure you are, Nicole,” Tepin giggled at the sound of her name in her lips. Nicole. She couldn’t remember another Nicole she befriended before. There was something about the name that felt so wonderful to say. Maybe she was just getting enamored of her new friend. “Well, if you put it that way, then how can I say no?”

Tepin watched as Nicole took the catnip and the salt, feeling a strange sense of relief after the exchange. She considered for a second how odd it sometimes was, whenever she felt a little weird when she spilled salt on the floor or on any surface in the cabin, but never the same when using the condiment in her cooking, while it was still packed, unopened. Tepin shook that random thought off, focusing on Nicole instead. “Oh, yeah, you do know where I live and work. That’s a little weird,” she let out another chuckle. “Where do you work again?”

“That’s–” her eyebrows furrowed, concern written all over her face. Worrying, is what she wished to say. But it wouldn’t help any, would it? Were cats that terrible? She had no idea. Nicole supposed some animals were lost causes, and Tepin’s pet was starting to sound like one. To be so awful that not even a shelter would take a chance on Tepin the cat? She was picturing some kind of monster. “I’m sorry, it’s awful” it was all she managed to say, lips pressing into a thin, apologetic smile. She hoped for owner and animal to eventually get along or for them to find a solution to their conflict. Some relationships took time, she supposed. Work. Understanding. Patience. All that stuff, even with pets.

“Right? Oh… I’m– I’m glad to hear. Didn’t know I was so convincing” Nicole couldn’t say any of her friendships had been initiated by her before. If she really stopped and thought about it, she wasn’t sure how some of them even came to be. They just happened. She had never been the one to reach out in any way. So this one felt like a triumph. A first. Nothing guaranteed future offers would be met with the same answer, but for now, it was impossible to wipe the smile off her face. She kept her head down, waiting for the excitement to pass.

There was still a part of her holding on to suspicion. Keeping Tepin close sounded like a good idea in order to figure out her mystery. Right now, Nicole didn’t know much more than the first time they met. But her gut said she had to keep going. And she promised to stop ignoring her intuition didn’t she?

“Oh– the National Park” she nodded, picking up the bag with caution. She didn’t want to spill either of the items inside. Tepin looked like she had a million things going through her head, and it was impossible for Nicole not to spot the similarities between them. “Uh– Can’t really offer much but… if you ever felt like taking a walk, dunno– I know places. Being around nature helps clear my mind. Maybe… maybe it could do the same for you” she said, noticing Pax walking back to them. He was ready to go home. Nicole lifted her bag, gently swaying it. “This was… you didn’t have to. But thanks, uh– Tepin” she smiled, examining the woman’s face for a moment. “I’ll see you around?”

Tepin offered her a warm smile before shaking her head, turning immediately to her task at hand. “Oh, it’s all right. You live with the hand you’re dealt, I guess.” It’s been quite the journey, at least she could admit to that. A lot of it has been tragic, from having to leave home to keep her loved ones safe to meeting and losing more people along the way. For a time, Tepin wasn’t quite sure if she’d ever find a safe space. Turns out, she just had to move somewhere less safe.

So far, there has been no reason for them, her and the jaguar, to leave again. The beast had the freedom to do its thing out here, in the Outskirts, while Tepin could be far from most people who didn’t deserve to be dragged into her tragedy. Of course there were a few mistakes here and there, but she’s been learning to survive it all. One day, things will be better. They should be. “You are. Should give yourself more credit. You deserve it.”

“Oh?” Her eyes lit up at the idea of getting to walk around the park with someone who knew the place. At the very least, there would be no chance of getting lost, and if the jaguar ever decided to show up, Tepin could just ask her where to disappear to. Would be pretty awkward, but would she have any choice? Just have to live with the cards we’re dealt. “That sounds like fun! I’d love to take a walk with you some time. Not if I see you first!”

#p: tepin #p #p: we build #wickedswriting #drug tw #/🥰 love tepin sm

7 notes · View notes

wendimydarling · 4 years ago

Text

Cover the Mirrors

Summary: Amber is earning a masters degree in mythology and folklore; when a handsome stranger sweeps her off her feet, she’s left wondering how, and struggles to keep up with his lifestyle.

Pairing: Vampire!August Walker x OFC (first person reader)

Word Count: 6826

Warnings: Alright, we ready to get into the menu of delights we will be reading today? Okay but seriously, if you are triggered by anything on this list, it is your responsibility to not read this work of fiction. The warnings are as follows: manipulation, subtle exhibitionism, fingering, penetrative sex, mention of oral (male receiving), biting, clawing, choking, blood, male violence, gore, non-con, rape, spitting, fear play, primal play, breeding, mention of death, torture, and potentially cannibalism, if you squint.

A/N: Okay so this story is based off of this thread where @killjoy-assbutt-1112 gave me a fic title, but I added another twist to it that I’d been brewing for months; I was excited about it but now I’m not. Whatever, I’ll give it to you anyway. Sources for my vampire lore came from here and here. Cover art was made by me; August was drawn by the amazingly talented @cheyentjj and has been used with her permission. Thank you so much to everyone who brainstormed with me, and a special thanks to @agniavateira for betaing!

“If you look at the Slavic region, vampire folklore runs rampant. One especially interesting specimen is the Pijavica. The Pijavica (translated “leech”, or “drinker”) was a rare species of vampire— traditionally male, and a powerfully strong, cold-blooded killer. The potential for conception is most commonly believed to be through the incest of the deceased with his mother during his life, though some believe that one can be created through the exceptionally malicious and evil acts of the deceased before his death.

The birth of a Pijavica is attributed to many different causes, including suffering an “unnatural” or untimely death such as suicide, excommunication, improper burial rituals, or even simple causes such as an animal jumping or bird flying over either the corpse or the empty grave, being conceived on certain days, or being born with a caul, teeth, or tail.”

I paused my typing, fingers leaving the keyboard in order to brush loose strands of hair from my face. Around me, the baristas of my favorite coffee shop were buzzing like worker bees in an old hive; they were gearing up for the lunch rush, and I realized I’d been here four hours already.

This place had long been my go-to study zone. It was small; there was just enough hustle and bustle to keep me from descending too deep into the abyss of studying and yet, it had the respect of the patrons that a library does. The owner, Fred, made sure that conversations were kept in hushed tones, courteous to those of us who needed to work in noise instead of quiet.

“If ya wanna be loud, go sit at a Starbucks!” He’d huff at those who didn’t heed his warning.

My eyes took in the familiar surroundings as I stretched. An oversized wood-burning fireplace filled the wall next to the vintage cash register; it was sandwiched between two built-in bookcases housing stories of all kinds that were meant to be read and enjoyed. The old stone clackling ran all the way up the wall, and a custom mantle made from an old oak tree that had fallen in Fred’s backyard sat delicately above the firebox. Yes, this shop was magical. It held a special place in my heart, and I’d visited so often that old Fred had deemed the table I sat at as “my table”. It was always kept reserved for me.

I reached for my coffee without looking; my brain needed more caffeine. I’d spent months on this master thesis, and yet for some reason, the notion of vampires was such a struggle. I didn’t understand the fear of those who lived back then. The origins of bloodsuckers were chaotic, the “treatments” laughable and still, people were willing to kill their own offspring over such nonsensical superstitions. Cold drops of stale roast hit my lips in a harsh reminder that I’d finished my previous dose. I sighed heavily and dropped the cup to the wooden surface of my table. Eyes closed, I laced my fingers around my neck and drew my elbows together to stretch my spine. Coffee. I need more coffee.

“Having trouble?”

A man’s baritone, smooth as whiskey interrupted my thoughts. My body jolted at his leisurely tone, and I nearly tumbled off the chair as my eyes snapped open to view the intruder. Sitting across from me was anything but a man; I was in the presence of divine artistry, two breathtaking orbs of gray-washed sky centered below auburn curls that adorned his perfectly symmetrical face. A sharp nose pointed to his strong jaw, while an amused smirk tugged at the corner of lips that I’m certain could send even a nun to her bedroom for self-maintenance. He wore a crisp, pinstripe suit, the buttons of his dress shirt undone sinfully low, revealing a smattering of additional curls.

My oversized turtleneck sweater and leggings suddenly felt subpar.

“The name’s Walker,” he mused further, gesturing a large hand toward the empty paper tumbler that was now lying on its side. “What were you drinking?”

“I--I um,” I fumbled with my words, embarrassed by my sudden inability to form a proper sentence. “I had a flat white? With two extra shots of espresso.”

The man named Walker had the cup in his hand and was out of his chair before I could blink; he was already ordering another coffee by the time I managed to process his intentions. I watched him hand the barista a bill I couldn’t see, but by the shocked expression on her face at the man’s declination of the change, it must have been a sizable amount. He sat down at the table again and stared at my chest unabashedly, making it clear he wasn’t just looking but imagining as well.

I should have been offended or felt objectified, but instead I felt drawn into his gaze.

“Having trouble?” He asked again, gesturing this time at my laptop.

“How long were you sitting there?” I blurted out, still too flummoxed to answer his question. Walker laughed and I swear, time stood still. Never in my life had I heard something so beautiful.

“Long enough.”

His reply was short and cryptic, a dismissal of my burgeoning curiosity. The barista chose that moment to bring two orders of coffee to the table, offering both of them to Walker by mistake. I took in her awestruck countenance, and there wasn’t a doubt in my mind that if my face matched hers I’d sink to the floor and die of shame. That notion shook me from my stupor and I was finally able to address his question.

“It’s my master thesis,” I explained, taking a sip of the scalding liquid he handed me. “I’m a History major, with an emphasis in mythology and folklore.”

I took another sip and tapped my phone, large numbers greeting me on the screen. Numbers that told me I was extremely late.

“Oh my god I have to go, I’m so sorry!” I apologized, scrambling to pack my things. In my haste I knocked my drink off the table. Resignation sunk in deep, submission to the knowledge of further humiliation at the impending spill. None came however, as Walker caught the drink in his hand before it crashed to the dark tiles.

“Thank you,” I murmured, gawking at him in bewilderment. Who was this man?

“It’s my pleasure,” he said, standing to help me collect the remainder of my books. “I’m interested in your thesis, could we perhaps discuss it over dinner? I don’t want to keep you from your next engagement.”

“I—” I stared at him, his face open and inviting. I’d been asked out before, but never this abruptly, and never by someone who looked and behaved like him. It sounded like an adventure…or a good story to tell on girls’ night at least.

“You know what, sure. Why not?”

I scribbled my number onto a napkin and slid it his way, grabbing the rest of my gear and heading toward the door. As I pushed against the hard metal, Walker’s large fingers caught my wrist, wrapping around it like ivy wraps around a lamppost. They were cool to the touch and yet somehow, my entire body immediately felt heated.

“We forgot first names,” he chuckled, “I’m August.”

I grinned sheepishly, pulling my arm from his surprisingly firm grip. The clank of the metal door handle resonated with the introduction I threw over my shoulder as I left the warmth of the shop and the handsome man behind.

“Amber.”

It took August a full week to call me. I felt like a fool; Did I leave on a poor note? Had I offended him somehow? Did he simply decide to change his fucking mind? I was kicking myself for saying yes; how could I have agreed to go on a date with a complete stranger? Now that I was no longer in his flustering presence, I began to see reason again. I knew nothing more than this man’s name, and the fact that he was more than likely rich. He could be a cold-blooded killer for all I knew, and I had every intention of telling him off.

I was in my apartment when he called. Still stuck on my thesis, I was currently unable to determine how best to explain the theory behind the sexual appeal of vampires. In my frustration, I hung upside down over the side of my bed, reading a book that discussed the many different works of literature revolving around vampirical romanticism and hoping the blood rushing to my brain would help me ascertain how to go about my explanation. The book was written by two authors who essentially argue the whole time, one of them convinced that the human fascination with vampires stems from the cannibalistic nature of bloodsucking or that it alluded to other bodily fluids such as semen, whereas the other stood firm in his belief that it held a much simpler cause; it was nothing more than the presence of oral fixation and sadism that caused the fantasy to plant its seed.

My phone vibrated but I ignored it, too engrossed in my book to be bothered with answering. I was so close… the answer was right there, it just continued to escape me. It wasn’t until my phone vibrated a second time to notify me of a voicemail that I put the pages down and picked up the electronic device.

The moment I heard August excusing his delay in calling to a work emergency, I immediately sat up and hit redial. There was something in his voice that made my heart quicken and my pulse race; it made the hair on my arms stand on end. I regretted sitting up so fast as it rang, the blood surrounding my brain draining quickly into the rest of my body. August answered on the second ring.

“Hi, Amber.”

“I—hi.”

I rolled my eyes then flinched in pain, congratulating myself sarcastically on how pathetic that response sounded with a slap of my palm to my forehead.

“Please, allow me to apologize again for waiting so long to call,” August insisted, seemingly unphased by my lack of vocabulary. “I still intend to take you to dinner, that is if you haven’t written me off completely.”

“No it’s fine, I totally get it,” I assured him. I had completely forgotten my earlier annoyance. He had explained it after all, and it could happen to anyone.

“Perfect. I’ll send a car tonight then, at seven. Wear something revealing please, I wasn’t able to see that pretty little neck of yours last time.”

My insides shook with an unexpected pang of shocked arousal at August’s request. The sexual confidence saturating his tone had me instantly reduced to nothing more than a deep desire for him to drag me to my knees by my hair. Why I wasn’t offended by the dominantly abrupt way this man spoke to me, I’ll never know. I put on the best flirty air I could manage in my stupor.

“I think I can manage that. Might have to charge you though.”

August laughed for the second time since I’d known him and I smiled, proud that I’d caused such a melodious sound to grace this earth.

“I like your spirit; you’re gonna be fun. I’ll see you tonight.”

“I—okay bye,” I managed to say before he hung up. I stared at my phone stupidly, as though I thought he was going to call again. Instead, the large clock face glared up at me like it always does, an ever present reminder that I live on a different plane of time than the rest of the world. I fell back on the bed, thinking about the man named August.

He likes my spirit? I hadn’t really shown him much, I’d been unable to do anything but stammer and trip over my words like a schoolgirl would when confronted by the cutest jock at school. What could he possibly see in me? The woman I truly was, the one I knew was underneath the bumbling idiot finally answered me. You’ve got three hours, Amber. Show him what you’re made of.

Resolve set in, and I bounced off the bed and walked toward my closet. For whatever reason, he’d chosen me, so I was going to let my confidence in that thought override all the self-doubt that was threatening to surface. I pulled my favorite dress from the hanger and set out to work. He wanted revealing? Then revealing is what he’d get, but I was going to do it my way.

The car was punctual, though I was less so. I scrambled to put diamond studs in my ears while being driven to some unknown location, my nerves making my hands shake. Once again, the notion that I could be driving to my death crept up my spine, but I brushed it off. Rich men send cars, it’s what they do. And I am an intelligent woman, I wouldn’t let myself be put in that situation.

Would I?

Touching the final stroke of Red Wine lipstick on my lips, I pulled my loose curls over my shoulder to expose my neck and put my things in my vintage black clutch, staring out the window at the ancient building that housed the most expensive club in town. I was suddenly grateful I’d chosen such a fancy dress. I fidgeted with the soft hem of the sleeve at my wrist, drawing it back and forth between my fingers while I waited for the driver to come to a stop.

I saw August there waiting, looking sharp as ever in another expensive three-piece suit, buttons undone just as low as the first time. This time however, I felt much better matched to his attire, and my confidence rose right next to my excitement. August came down the steps to open the door and I took his hand, hiking the burgundy velvet up to my thigh so that I could exit the car smoothly. The heavy fabric dropped to the ground the moment I freed it from my grasp, allowing August to study how I’d chosen to honor his request.

August drank in my covered form, taking in the way my dress hugged my curves and accentuated what it needed to. His eyes darkened as they lingered on the single large triangular section of bare skin that started at my shoulders and came to a point between my breasts, and I watched his tongue dart out of his mouth softly. He looked downright hungry. August stepped closer, fingertips grazing the flesh on my collarbone before he fastened his grip onto my nape and inhaled the hair at my temple deeply, pressing his lips to my ear.

“You are simply mouthwatering,” he growled, low and possessive. His hand released my neck and slid down to the small of my back, sending a shiver down my spine. My insides quivered at his touch, fragrant drops of dew pooling rapidly in the flimsy lace that guarded my mound from potential intruders.

“You wanted to see my ‘pretty little neck’,” I teased his earlier arrogance, lifting my skirt to traverse the steps leading inside, “I thought I’d frame her for you, give her the spotlight.”

August cocked an eyebrow at me in amusement, sensing my challenge. His fingers dug into my hip a little harder than necessary as he guided me through the establishment with nothing more than a nod to the hostesses. Apparent jealousy marred the face of one, and I thought I saw a hint of worry on the other. We were gone before the emotion could register in my mind.

I was escorted to a private booth in the upstairs of the establishment. While the first floor was crowded and full of people, the second floor was empty; August had requested it for our use alone. I could hear the hum of nightlife below, the haunting, non-lyrical melody of a soft alto wafting over the balcony as we walked past, the whispered promise of an enchanting night. A few tables and chairs were strategically placed on the floor, hugged by back-to-back rounded booths on either wall. Light ethereal curtains hung on either side of them, offering privacy from the guests who would typically sit in the next box over. August led me to the corner booth nearest the balcony so that we could look upon the stage if we chose.

“Our table, milady,” he joked, leaving a wet kiss on the back of my hand. Though the charade was seemingly in jest, it could not have been farther from it. His piercing eyes never left mine and I gasped at the feel of his brazen tongue on my skin. The suggestion of what he could do with it hung thick in his gaze, lacing the air with the succulent first tendrils of decadent tension. Playing along, I took a sharp breath and curtsied. I stayed low as August stood to show him the appeal of my figure at this angle, tilting just my head to look up at him. He stood there, head held high like a king, and the smile I received at my display was downright sinful.

“What a treat you are,” he murmured, cupping my chin briefly. My breasts swelled as I stood, consenting August the claim to chivalry by way of settling me into the alcove. He swept my hair over my shoulder again, trailing a single finger down my neck in admiration before taking his own seat. My insides were nothing but a pile of kindling, and every touch he gave was a spark that threatened to ignite the dry leaves into a burning flame of need.

The courses came and went just like those moments, every phrase emphasized with physical intimacy of some kind, whether it be just a gossamer brush of his fingers on my ear or an intentional grasping of my hand. He went as far as to boldly stroke the back of his knuckle along my cleavage, making me dizzy with desire. Each touch was avaricious—like he owned me—and I had zero qualms about letting him.

We ate our fill, but August made no move to leave the comfort of our small corner. With the noise of people below dulled by the far reaches of our seclusion, it was easy to converse. I told him more about my master thesis and the Pijavica, how they could read minds and enjoyed the power of persuasion, how they were impervious to all but decapitation, and how only their offspring could kill them. He listened intently, sharing tales of his own career. It was how I discovered that he was a doctor.

“I don’t practice anymore though, I prefer to study and learn. Specifically, I’m attracted to tears.”

“Tears?” That struck me as odd; it wasn’t often you came across someone who had such a unique field of study. “Why tears?”

August swirled the whiskey in his glass and downed it abruptly. He subtly indicated to our attendant for another before continuing his explanation.

“I’ve always had a fascination for the small things, things that people don’t seem to think matter; the mind-body connection, you know? For example,” he brushed a thumb over my cheekbone, “Did you know that the cellular structure of tears looks different based on the type of tear?”

August cupped my neck with both of his hands, tilting my head this way and that, his calm features set in measured focus as he spoke.

“Basal, reflexive, emotional... they all look different.”

I closed my eyes, letting him caress my skin. August’s touch was intoxicating, addicting. Even his scent was an aphrodisiac to my senses. I couldn’t get enough of it, lured ever closer to his sturdy frame, letting him manipulate my body how he saw fit. He nuzzled my hair, his soft spoken words dripping with lust into my ear.

“In fact,” he went on, “Even among those categories they differ, dependent on the stimuli.”

I could feel his breath on my neck, his lips surrounding the pulsepoint in my veins as he spoke, my jaw his destination. A hand snuck under my skirt, skimming along my trembling skin toward the seeping treasure that awaited him at the end of his journey. I spread my legs willingly, inviting him into my deepest of secrets. August hummed as he went on, sending spirals of tingling vibrations through my chest.

“The sting of onions, the sadness of grief… the satisfaction of overwhelming pleasure.”

“August…” I breathed, but my voice was severed as August simultaneously laid claim to my mouth and my womb. Thick fingers penetrated me in the same moment as his probing tongue, and it was in that moment I knew I was lost; August Walker could pull everything from me and I wouldn’t care; I’d want it, need it. He had spent all night teasing me, testing me, manipulating me and filling me with nothing but a desire for more, leaving me empty and wanting. He had succeeded, I now craved him above all else in this world.

August lifted my skirts, hoisting me with little effort to straddle his lap and I cried out in shock. The sound of my sudden impalement on the thick steel of his manhood was camouflaged by the crowd of people below; no one heard the echo of carnal awakening that sang through the air. When had he undressed? I bit my lip as he sank deeper into my core until the salty bitterness of copper and iron stung my chin. August’s eyes fell to the red droplet, darkening until the only color left in his pale irises was the very absence of light. With a hideous growl he ravaged my mouth, tasting every inch of my bruised lips with the hunger of an animal that’s been caged for far too long.

Thrill and terror tangled themselves in my mind, weaving an intricate web of wanton desire inside of me as August took me right there in the booth. Time itself seemed to halt, the room disappeared. Were we still in the club? Was it still the dead of night? Did I still require oxygen to breathe? Or was my life source now August’s touch, the light in my very soul dependent upon his kiss?

I didn’t notice when we left, nor when we arrived at a house that overlooked the city. I didn’t notice the lock on the basement door, or the fresh garden in the yard. I didn’t notice the continual rising and setting of the sun. I didn’t notice when I grew hungry, nor when I grew tired. I didn’t notice, not anything but passion, need, and desperation.

I didn’t notice.

Sleep drained from my limbs slowly. I awoke to black silk caressing my skin, dim sunlight shining through the wall, diffused by a covering of clouds that hung in the sky. It confused me that it was coming through the entire wall, until I realized that said wall was simply one large window, and the room I found myself in was built into the rock of an obsidian cliff overlooking the city. The room was minimally decorated in dark tones that coordinated with the nature outside, save for a striking, golden painting of a woman crying on the far wall. I clearly wasn’t home, and last night’s events slowly returned to the forefront of my mind.

August.

August was, without a doubt, the most attentive lover I’d ever had. Memories of his lips, his scent, his god-like physique that was surely carved from marble entertained my thoughts, returning my mind to the pleasure I’d never experienced in my life. Chills ran up and down my skin, alighting in wonder as my hand drifted to my sex. My fingers found my petals, swollen from overuse, aching in the dull agony of satisfaction. I stroked them gently, soothing the pleasant tenderness, moaning softly as the blood rushed to swell my clit once more, my other hand slipping beneath the silk to join in the heavenly edging torment.

A sharp, sudden sting at the brush of my inner thigh caused me to cry out, my hands snatching away from their play. I sat up, peering beneath the sheets to discover a semi-circle of divots cut into my leg. Is that a… a bite mark? I pulled at the skin and felt the dried blood crack, a small pinprick of new red seeping through the scab. I lunged from the bed to stand in front of the full-length mirror in the corner and look for other signs or markings, but what I found made me gasp.

Bruises peppered my neck, chest, hips and thighs. A few other crescents were scattered amongst them, standing out against the dark patches that shaded my skin. I took a physical inventory then, feeling the soreness in my jaw from being stretched by his cock, the ache of my neck from having my hair pulled, the shaky feeling of muscular fatigue in my legs from being tensed by orgasm after orgasm. I thought I detected a slight sheen on my skin, but I couldn’t tell if that was from the tremulous bliss of a satisfying fuck, or if it was the sweat and oil caused by said satisfying fuck. Either way, I looked happy and content. I grabbed August’s dress shirt from the floor and threw it on as I left the room to explore.

The bedroom led to a hallway, the wall to my left still nothing but expansive glass that showed off the impressive view. On the other side were large, black and white abstract prints, hung evenly spaced against dark panels. To the left of each was a shadow box with an ornate glass vial inside; each bottle was thin, no longer than my palm and differing in design from the others. Tiny, intricate patterns were painted on the outsides in white, blue, and gold, and gold stoppers sealed each one. When I entered the main room, I discovered a curio cabinet that housed at least a hundred of them, and I leaned in to look at how varied each one was.

“Victorian tear catchers,” August’s voice was suddenly behind me and I whirled sharply, startled. He chuckled at my alarm and I laughed with him, enjoying that glorious sound.

“They’re beautiful,” I murmured, turning back to look at the delicate glass. August pulled me against his naked chest, nosing my hair and kissing my neck.

“Yes you are,” he whispered, earning an eye roll from me. August chuckled and opened the cabinet.

“Would you like one?”

“Really?”

I looked at him, stunned. He simply nodded his head in the direction of the vials and I examined them, selecting one that had a white pattern on it that looked like lace.

“Mmm, a good choice. Perhaps I can collect tears of ecstasy for you,” August whispered. The thrill of what he was implying awakened my senses, and I let him lead us slowly back toward the bedroom. I felt like teasing him, so I delayed a bit by asking about the art on the wall.

“What are those?” I pointed to the first print, a cross-hatching pattern that looked like it was made of sewing pins.

“Those are tears of grief,” he stated, stopping in front of each as he walked me gradually down the hall.

“A yawn,” he said of the next, a white background with dark, fern-looking splatters. August traced his mouth along my jaw, his hand dipping beneath the button of his shirt to play with the sensitive nipples he had rediscovered. I keened as he continued shifting us toward the kitchen, struggling to keep my composure. The next print was a much darker gray, and it looked like it was covered in snowflakes.

“Any guesses?” August asked, mouthing my earlobe in tandem with the flick of his thumbs over my hardened nubs. I whimpered, my knees weak in his lustful embrace.

“Uhm… cold air?” I rasped as he sucked on my neck. August chuckled through his nose, the vibrations of his voice rippling through my chest to connect with his teasing fingers.

“Onions.”

“Yeah okay.”

I tilted my head so that I could kiss him, but suddenly the thought of onions turned my stomach. I lurched, pulling away and gagging slightly. Instead of concern, August smiled knowingly, seemingly unbothered by my retching.

“I see morning sickness has set in. It’s a little early and I had hoped you’d be able to avoid it, but alas, that’s not the case.”

My head swam suddenly, confusion mutilating all thought. I backed away from him.

“Morning what? What are you talking about?”

August took a step toward me, placing a hand on my belly and lacing his fingers in the hair at my nape.

“Women always taste better after they’ve conceived. And I can keep them longer; they make much more blood when they’re host to a fetus.”

I pushed against him, turning away and vainly attempting to process his words. Pregnant? Taste better? Blood? My eyes focused on a card I hadn’t noticed earlier in the shadow box, a single word printed on it.

Bridgette

“Isn’t it ironic,” August mused, tracing my collarbone with a thick finger, “That five weeks ago, you had a chance encounter with the very thing you’ve been studying for months, and now you carry his child.”

The room spun. I couldn’t think; my brain refused to process the nonsense he spoke.

“Five—five weeks?! No that’s not possible, our date was last night!”

“It’s more than possible, sweet morsel. Think about it.”

Bile rose thick and acrid in my throat then, threatening to spill. Memories and time started filtering into my mind, replacing the fog with everything I’d lost. The last puzzle piece clicked into place, confusion all but disappeared and I was left with nothing but the cold, terrifying truth. Pijavica. Vampire. Monster.

I’d fallen into the clutches of a monster.

I did the only thing I could think of; I slapped him as hard as I could and took off through the house, ignoring the sharp pain of a chunk of hair remaining in his hand. My heart pounded in my chest, desperate to be free of this sudden nightmare. I slammed into the front door and grabbed the handle, a strangled sob catching in my throat when it wouldn’t open.

I rattled the door knob, panic consuming every fiber of my being. Suddenly, it wasn’t just my life I was fighting for; apparently there was a life inside of me that needed protecting. The child of a Pijavica that was depending on me to escape, so that he could come back and kill his father. I have to get out. I gave up on the door in anger, spinning around and looking for another way.

“Do you know why I chose you?”

I heard August’s voice again, but he was nowhere to be seen. His voice came louder, penetrating my mind. I have to keep moving.

“It was because of your name; they match your eyes.”

I whimpered at his words, sneaking my head around a corner to survey the living space for some form of an exit.

“Amber has a historical application, you see,” he went on, louder. I dashed over the floor, desperate to be gone from him. Door after door remained locked, and my terror grew with each attempt. Every now and then I could hear August, whether it be a rustle of fabric or the knock of his foot on the wooden floor. The scholar in me knew that it was on purpose, that he was luring his prey, giving chase to his food, and yet my rational mind refused to take charge. I was being led by my flight response, and his jarring monologue wasn’t helping.

“Throughout history, whenever a goddess cried it was typically tears of amber, save for the goddess Freya, who cried gold. You met her in the bedroom.”

His laughter echoed through the dark walls of his lair, and chilled me to my core. It was no longer a beautiful sound, but grating and horrible. I was nothing but a petty human to play with, some toy that he could eat when he tired of me. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I came to the last door. Dear God, please let this one open. To my utter relief, the door swung wide and I was met with stairs. Stairs went down, and we were on a cliff. Down was good. Down meant freedom.

I clambered down the steps and flung open the door at the bottom, stumbling into the room and falling to the floor in horror and fear. There in front of me, was nothing but mirrors. A maze of mirrors, each one showing me my trembling features, mocking me, letting me know just how fucked I was. I turned back, intending to go back up the stairs and try another way, but August’s silhouette stood at the top, preventing me from going back into the house. I heard a scream and realized it was my own.

Scrambling off the floor, I took off into the maze, blinded by my tears.

“Each of those girls made it this far you know,” August taunted. I heard the slam of the door and nearly choked as I ran. “You’ll die in this room, just like they did.”

His nonchalance, his continual unconcern about chasing me, his arrogance that he would no doubt catch me made me so angry. I raced from path to path, growing ever more frantic every time I reached a dead end. I didn’t even know if this room had an exit, I just knew I had to keep moving. I tripped over something as I rounded a corner, screaming when I saw what it was.

“I see you found Bridgette,” August chuckled, and I looked up from the skeleton to see his hideous face marred with a sinful sneer. I gasped and took off again, turning this way and that. Hitting another dead end, I doubled back and ran smack into August’s broad torso. He caught me and held me close as I screamed, ripping his shirt from my body. He spun me around, pinning my wrists between my back and his belly, trailing his fingers languidly over my naked frame in an inspection of his handiwork. My jaw was gripped in an iron vice and August forced my gaze to the mirror.

“Do you see what I see?” he mocked. I could only stare in horror, for nothing but my own terrified expression stared back at me.

August had no reflection.

“Out of all the patterns in the world, do you know which tears are my favorite?” August continued to torment. He inhaled my hair deeply, snaking his tongue along the length of my cheek, tasting the stains my tears had left in their wake.

“Fear.”

I heard August growl as I fought against him, his iron grasp caging me against his cool skin, more of the cursed moisture pooling in my eyes. Glassy drops fell, retracing a new path toward my chin but August just kissed them away, shoving me to the floor when my knees buckled of their own accord. He let go of my hands to fidget with his slacks, pulling me back toward him every time I tried to crawl away as a parent would to a petulant child. On the third attempt he snapped my knee, a scream tearing from my throat in my woeful submission to his desire.

Finally free of his clothes, August lifted my hips, lining his rigid cock up against my sweat-soaked folds. He dove into my treasure without care, forcing his way into the depths of my belly, stretching and tearing my walls until he was fully sheathed. Strong arms wrapped around me again, and I felt two sharp points prick the junction of my neck and shoulder. I cried out and thrashed in fierce protest, knowing that small pinch was just a warning of oncoming pain.

August’s teeth punctured my skin easily, shredding muscle and sinew until they hit bone. I howled in pain as I watched blood drip from the wound, a familiar crescent shape joining its brothers on my body. Searing heat shot through my neck with his first draw of thick plasma; the violent removal of blood causing an intense burn that I felt all the way down to my injured leg. August released my neck and I clapped a hand over the fresh wound.

I looked over my shoulder at him; his head was tilted down, mouth still full of my blood; the lack of a reflection behind him unsettling to my senses. August opened his wicked maw slowly, dark scarlet trickling from his lips onto the junction where my hips met his, run through by his sword. He looked up at me with a nasty grin, bloodstained fangs curdling my stomach. I closed my eyes and turned away as he swiped a hand through the mess. His fingers penetrated my core alongside his cock, deaf to my sobbing objections.

“You’d better open your eyes, pet… This needy little cunt is dripping, I’d hate for you to miss it.”

August emphasized his sick joke by grasping my hair, shoving my head to the floor, forcing me to look once more into the polished glass. My desperate wails for mercy were all that kept me grounded as I watched him thrust, my battered hole be stretched beyond capacity. Nothing but empty space plundered my core, crimson air bruising the very place within me that only just last night had been treated with such tenderness and care. Not last night. His slick fingers found my mouth and violated it effortlessly; no amount of pressure I could apply would break through his tough skin.

“God, you look so beautiful.”

August pulled me up and took to my neck with fervor, latching onto the broken sliver of skin like a leech. The more he drank, the weaker I became, until there was no resistance left within me. I could see the color drain from my bloody face, I could see black slowly creep into my vision, but I was powerless to stop it. August was in charge, he held my entire existence in his hands, and he intended to extinguish it. I closed my eyes again, accepting my fate.

I was going to die.

One of my favorite places to visit is a small outdoor cafe, very near the coffee shop where I met Amber. Mmmm. Amber. Not a day goes by that I don’t think of that tantalizing woman.

She lasted so much longer than all the others, you know. I was able to feed off of her nearly three full months as she hung there in my basement, until the last drop of her tantalizing nectar was finally extracted. She smelled of carraway and saffron, tasted of sweet mulled wine, and with the rich, heady, piquancy of her fertile womb seasoning each sinew, every inch of her opulent flesh begged to be consumed. I must admit, I should have dispatched of her sooner, but fascination overtook my curious mind as her own was consumed by insanity.

First it was freedom she asked for, and then death. Sometimes she would beg to speak to her mother one last time. But by the end, she only asked for one thing.

“Please,” she would whisper, “Please… Cover the mirrors. Just cover the mirrors.”

She asked so nicely, but how on earth could I hide such beauty? Her tears were just as rare, you see. They hold a beauty unmatched by any of the others that hang on my walls. I’ve never seen such a fear pattern like hers; it is more exquisite than the dawn of a misty spring day in the countryside, more beautiful than a woman at the height of euphoria. And they way they sparkled against her skin, lustrous tracks that wound down her temples and through her hair, glinting in the mirrors with each slow rotation of her inverted body... well, it was as if I was living among the stars. Adding her ashes to my garden was such a shame.

I sat at that little cafe, eyes closed, viewing the world through my enhanced scent. Each drop of bitter coffee, the pollen of a nearby bee, the oil in the bike chains of two clumsy humans as they rolled past; each note and fragrance alerting me to its owner. A familiar scent reached my nose and I turned my head sharply, focusing on it.

Carraway… Saffron.

I smiled softly, opening my eyes to greet the woman that now sat at my table. The honey irises that had intrigued me all those months ago met mine and I chuckled low.

“Amber.”

Read on AO3.

#august walker #august walker fanfic #august walker fan fiction #august walker fanfiction #august walker fan fic #august walker smut #vampire!august #non-con tw

177 notes · View notes

degeneratekitten · 4 years ago

Text

The reeducation of a King

!!!WARNING!!! Read the tags before continuing. If any of the tags upset you then you probably wont like it when it happens in the story.

This story was one of the first asks I got, I started it, but never finished, so here we go.

The woman in front of you looked incredibly tired. She had bags under her eyes, her skin was pale, and she looked like she was on the verge of a mental breakdown. Truthfully you had yet to even inform her that the King Lamia she had rescued off the street was classified more as a hunting type bitty. She’d been under the assumption, like many people who came to you with rescues, that all bitties could be kept like pets.

“So he’s gotten possessive of you, and he started trying to control your life?” You questioned making sure that you’d gotten her story straight.

“Yes!” She sighed, looking almost on the verge of tears. “I had to slip tranquilizers in his food so I could come here! He goes absolutely berserk if I leave his sight for even a moment, and he refuses to let me decide where we go!” She cried, soundly more and more like an abused spouse than a distraught pet owner. To be fair, this was an abusive relationship, one you would be more than willing to remedy. “He also always tries to tell me what kind of underwear I should wear and gets mad when I don't wear them!”

“That's very troubling.” You nodded, before inquiring about an important question. “How was it that he got so much control over you?”

The woman opened her mouth to answer only to snap her mouth shut again in a frown. She didn't seem to have an answer.

“I… I can't remember…” She mused, before continuing. “I guess I didn't realize it at first, but over time he just got worse and worse, and somehow he convinced me that it would all be ok if I did this, or that. He started getting threatening, baring his teeth whenever I even suggested doing something he didn't want. I was afraid he’d somehow escape his cage at night and kill me, so I just did what he wanted. I figured this was just a part of rescuing bitties. It wasn't until last week when he started to demand I stop seeing my mother that I realized how weird everything was. He’s a pet, not a boyfriend, and I won’t be controlled by a pet!” She stated, seeming to come to a firm resolution in her own mind.

You nodded at her. “I see, so I think I know how this all started. “ You smiled, giving the woman a look that seemed to calm her down.

“What?” She asked, fully invested in what you were going to say.

“You see, bitties are separated into two different types, ones that are pets, and others that are meant for more, violent situations. Lamia’s with venom are generally meant to be either guards, or exterminators. Your King is the former. His breed was designed to protect an owner, staying vigilant for all threats both physical and mental. Where this all went wrong is because your King was born and bred in the wild, where a lot of the original designs and personalities of bitties have changed.” The woman looked incredibly interested in what you were saying. Fully invested and curious, you loved customers like this.

“So his idea of protection involves being controlling?” She asked just waiting for you to elaborate.

“Yes and no. His ideas about protection are skewed more in favor of breeding. If he has a partner he has to hide them away so they can't get taken by another bitty or human. He has to provide everything for them then, food, shelter, warmth, stimulation, everything. The problem with a lot of bitties in recent generations is that their predisposition to be reliant on humans still applies even when they’re experiencing sexual urges. They expect and crave for their human owners to satisfy them sexually alongside everything else.” You watched as the woman's face twisted in disgust.

“Wait, so you’re saying that hes trying to fuck me?” She yelled, grossed out and shivered slightly.

“In short, yes, he wants to fuck you.” You deadpanned watching as the woman hugged herself.

“That's so messed up!” She exclaimed, which made you chuckle.

“I agree, but magic is weird, and magical constructs with origins like bitties are even weirder. But anyways, there is a way to fix this. A way to uncross his wires so to say, and make him desire other bitties rather than you. Which in turn should ease a lot of the behavior towards you. After I do that he should be more receptive to my traditional training in learning how to act more in line with the original king lamia’s.” You finished, watching as relief seemed to wash over the woman.

“So what needs to be done to uncross those wires?” She asked, to which you chuckled.

“Get him a mate.” You stated watching as the woman seemed to balk a little at how simple your answer was.

“Wait! It's that simple?! I could have done that myself.” She asked sitting up straight, shocked and a little giddy at the prospect. You laughed with her.

“Well, kind of, unfortunately if you get involved in the process and give him a new mate, he’d take it as a sign that he needs to fight the other bitty to mate with you. It’s better to let a third party do the introduction.”

“Oh… Well, if it gets him to stop wanting to fuck me I’m more than willing.” She smiled, seeming to realize that a huge weight was being lifted from her shoulder.

“So when can we start?” She added, looking at you with hope.

“Well first we have to pick out a new mate.”

-----

You’d gone over potential mates and your rates with the woman for the rest of the visit. You’d mentioned that a cherry would probably be best for the King, as they were incredibly meek and in need of the amount of attention that this particular King was ready to give, plus they weren't lamia so the chance of breeding while already small, was nearly impossible. The woman was excited over the idea, as she wanted a pet who was easier to cuddle with as opposed to her King who she had to keep far away from her sleeping arrangements.

You’d made sure to explain fully to her why although she had the best of intentions, King’s were not traditionally pets, and she needed to treat him accordingly. She could keep him as part of her family and give him a better home off the streets, but she needed to be careful not to let him take charge of her life anymore as next time he probably would kill her. She ended up taking this to heart, nodding her head as you led her to the door.

“I’ll make sure I read more on how I’m supposed to handle him.” She promised, leaving in her car. You’d set a date for that weekend to go and pick up the King, you needed a few days to get a suitable cherry and set up an area in which you could do everything that needed to be done.

---

Meeting the King in question, Moriarty, as he had aptly named himself, was an occasion that was sure to be violent. You had a thick jumpsuit on, with extra layers covering your arms and legs, combat boots your husband had bought you just for these situations, and heavy duty handling gloves on so he couldn’t bite you. You had some safety goggles on as well in case he tried to spit at you, and even your neck was covered by a long collar from your jumpsuit. You didn't take any chances with violent venomous lamia’s especially ones who had reason to believe that you were a threat. You’d nearly lost your brother that way when he’d insisted on trying to calm a venomous lamia without gear. He’d been in the hospital for two weeks and aptly served as yet another reminder that protection bitties were not to be taken lightly.

Your husband was dressed beside you in a similar getup, and he had insisted on taking at least one Squadron bitty with the two of you, said bitty was currently standing at military attention waiting for you to give him orders. He wore camo like most squadron bitties, with a black shirt, ripped off sleeves, a pair of smaller dog tags and miniature combat boots and a knife. He didn't have his ecto flesh summoned so his outfit was a little baggy. His dark green eyelights were focused on you, while his arms were situated behind his back.

You had planned to use magic if things got too bad, but it was always good to have a backup plan.

Squadrons were very similar to Edgies in terms of vocabulary and humor, the only real difference being that they were never overtly hostile to anyone outside of combat. They made dirty jokes all the time and cursed like sailors, but never called you cunt or assface unless they were set out to kill you.

“I’ll need you to stay outside until we give you a signal.” You said to the bitty, watching as he gave a toothsome grin and saluted you in response.

“Just gimmie da signal an I’ll rip em up ma'am.” He replied, forgoing his usual vulgar vocabulary in lieu of a more respectful tone. He gave you a nod as well to tell you not to worry about him and you turned towards your husband with a pleased expression.

“You said this is your best one so far? I’m impressed! He didn't even cuss at me!” You praised watching your husband's face light up.

“Yeah, he used to cuss more than the others but I straightened him out real quick, nothing a little friendly competition couldn't solve.”

Chuckling you turned your attention back towards the door again, and steeling yourself for the worst you knocked on the door. Hopefully she’d managed to tranquilize her king.

“Hello! We’re here today for Miss Shelby! We’re here to pick up the package like we discussed yesterday.

“*GASP* MOTHER! HOW DARE YOU! I TOLD YOU NOT TO GO OUTSIDE! YOU DISOBEYED ME!” You heard the loud, unmistakable shriek of the problematic bitty then a mumble in response before there was a loud crash and the shriek of a woman. Worried that maybe the King had gotten more violent, you tested the doorknob, relieved to find it unlocked.

“Hello, Miss Shelby! I’m coming in!” You shouted, before bursting into the home.

What you saw caused adrenaline to surge through you.

The king in question was wrapped tightly around Shelby’s arm, hood spread out,tail swishing agitated, and teeth bared. He was on the verge of attacking.

Looking at Shelby you could tell how nervous, how terrified she was as she stared at the King’s teeth. You noticed that a plate of noodles lay shattered on the floor.

“Oh thank god.” Shelby breathed out, relieved to see you.

“WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE! BARGING IN HERE! MOTHER TELL THEM TO LEAVE!” The king hissed, moving itself so he was partially wrapped around Shelby’s neck, he had placed himself right next to Shelby’s ear with his teeth still bared and from what you could tell, his fangs were already secreting venom. He was very ready to bite.

“M-m-m-mori! She’s a guest, I invited her over for dinner!” Shelby tried to explain, earning herself a shriek in the ear.

“I DIDN'T GIVE PERMISSION FOR THAT! WE AREN'T ACCEPTING COMPANY! TELL HER TO LEAVE!” Moriarty screeched, tail seeming to tighten around her neck.

Shelby moved to try and loosen the tail only to earn a menacing hiss from the king, your eyes widened a bit as you tried to think of the best course of action.

Moving towards her would probably cause him to tighten his grip, talking could yield good results but with how agitated he was it would probably only buy you time before he bit her. Maybe if you challenged him he would take the bait, but you couldn't do that if you wanted him to respond to you in training.

Suddenly you were incredibly glad that your husband had insisted on bringing a squadron bitty. The king would probably never see it again, and it would leave you in a neutral position from which to train the king.

You clicked your tongue at the king, not making any sudden movement, he hissed at the sound, and seemed to be hyper focused on you, before its attention snapped to the door, as a bulked up squadron bitty stormed in.

“The fuck is this cunt ordering ya round for!?” The squadron bitty bellowed, he was still minimal size, but you yourself knew better than to underestimate him.

“WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS! LEAVE MY TERRITORY AT ONCE INSOLENT CRETIN!” The King hissed, attention snapping to the other bitty.

Shaking your head, you looked at the little squadron bitty and gave a firm order. “Nothing crazy.” You stated, watching as he frowned in displeasure.

“Fuckin fine. Yer not a lot a fun are ya.” He stated as he stepped forward, chest puffing out as he readied himself for a fight.

“FIGHT ME BITCH!” He screeched out simply at the king, using the most direct way in which to challenge the king.

Taking the bait immediately, the King slithered down in front of his owner, hood spread, and fangs dripping poison. You took a step back, and whispered at Shelby to slowly back away.

There wasn't much of a fight, the King lunged and ended up shot by a tranquilizer as the Squadron bitty jumped out of the way for your husband to get a clear shot of the King’s hood.

You’d had these instant magic tranquilizers well before the pure bite incident, but they simply did not work on large bitties, they were meant for smaller bitties, and were tested extensively to work instantly said bitties.

There was no need for an actual fight, and really the simplest solutions were generally the best. You nodded at the Squadron bitty, as he immediately made to restrain the King bitty and brought him over to you, where you put a special muzzle on its skull. After which the squadron dragged it by the tail to a pre-prepared cage.

Having completed your business, you turned towards Shelby, noticing how shocked she seemed. It wasn't uncommon, people tended to be shocked when the people, or “pets” in this instance, that had been tormenting them were taken down. You took the lead, grabbing a shock blanket that you had also, prepared ahead of time and wrapping it around her.

“Do you want me to call someone for you?” You asked, as you secretly examined her for any bites or cuts. Luckily the only injuries she had were bruises from where the king had squeezed her arm too tightly.

Shelby nodded dumbly at you, before grabbing her phone and scanning her finger to unlock it. “Could you… Call my mother… I was too scared to have her over before.” She said, then plopping down in a nearby seat.

You nodded at her. “I’ll wait with you until she gets here.” You said, before pressing the call button on the phone.

---

The very first step in rehabilitating the King wasn’t to immediately jump into training. It was a little different from that. You’d brought your client over after she’d calmed down in order for her to pick out one of the Cherries you’d set aside for the King. You’d set aside 5 of them, not that it really made much of a difference as they were all crying at the prospect of meeting someone new. Most bitties were identical, luckily there were” some notable differences between these cherries, mutations weren’t always bad.

The customer came in, and almost immediately grimaced at the crying Cherries. You’d warned her that they were high maintenance pets, but also assured her that with a King around a lot of the more intolerable aspects would almost certainly be enjoyed by the King.

She did however warm up to the Cherries after a little play time, and after finding out that one of the Cherries enjoyed eating literally ANYTHING, she picked that one in a heartbeat. She stated that she loved cooking new things and someone to enjoy new things with was something she struggled with.

After that she bonded for a short while, she left, she had wanted to hear the cherry say “mommy” before leaving but you insisted that that was a TERRIBLE idea.

After she left, you shoved a heat inducing gummy down a screaming Cherries throat and quite literally threw him into the pen with the King. If you heard hysterical pleas for help, and screams to “shut up slut.” You ignored them, that would sort itself out naturally.

---

You monitored the situation between the King and Cherry loosely. It went exactly as you expected it to. The King violently fucked the Cherry, while the Cherry simultaneously cried for more and pleaded for it to stop at the same time.

By the end of the week long fuck fest there were no more pleas for stopping, only begging for more. Until finally, the King had firmly marked the Cherry as its own, and was holding it close and whispering as sweet of compliments as it could muster. The Cherry was crying, as usual, but at the offer of food it had accepted the King as its mate.

You waited another week, allowing the King to thoroughly fuss over the Cherry and fuck away its excess of aggression, before entering the pen. You entered with food, eyeing the King to make sure he didn't pounce. He has significantly calmed down, instead of hissing and threatening he stared at you warily while he held his wide eyed mate close. You set the food down, and nodded.

“I see you enjoy the mate I’ve prepared for you.” You stated, watching as the King’s head tilted to the side as he questioned the implications of that statement.

You left before he could question you. Letting the tranquilizers in the food take effect before you went to collect your newest project.

---

The King awoke in a cage alone while a hysterical Cherry cried as it reached out to him from a cage opposite of him.

You didn't have gloves on as you opened the cage of the Cherry, and you would never admit to smiling at the reaction of the King as you roughly handled the Cherry.

“RELEASSSSSSE MY MATE AT ONCE INSSSSSOLENT HUMAN!” He hissed, utterly incensed at the handling of his new mate. You shook your head, and placed the Cherry on a table, he cowered into your hand, hiding his face as he reached for his mate, but at the same time he still recognized you as a human to trust, you’d bottle fed him after all.

“Ppp-please I want to be with Mori.” He pleaded with you hugging your thumb as his tears colored the edge of his sockets.

You replied softly. “I know, but we have to correct some of his behavior first.” You replied as you shook him off.

He landed on his behind, more tears welling up in his eyes. Before you grabbed a shock collar, and placed it around the neck of the Cherry.

“What’s this’ moAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!” You wasted absolutely no time in shocking the Cherry, watching as its tears pooled on the table, and pissed soaked down its bare legs. The king had thoroughly destroyed any clothing that had been on the Cherry in its vigor. You could make out the small cuts on its form, the first few days had been incredibly rough in terms of sex, not enough to kill the Cherry, but certainly enough that you wondered why it wasnt terrified of the King.

The Cherry flopped on the table, while you looked at the King who’s hood was spread as he hissed, spit and thrashed about in his cage. It was bolted down so there was no way for him to tip it, but it was still quite the sight.

Nodding in satisfaction you placed the sobbing Cherry back in his cage across from the King, where he reached out desperately towards the Cherry intent on comfort, even if that wasn’t his strong suit.

“RELEASSSSE ME AT ONCCCCE! I MUSST COMFORT MY MATE!” He screeched at the same time trying to thrash his tail to strike out at you.

“No comfort will come to your Cherry until we have fixed your behaviors.” You hummed, as you pulled on thick arm coverings and gloves. You approached the King’s cage and unlatched it, grasping around the King’s throat as he attempted to bite your outstretched hand through the gloves. A calculated move in order to direct him as you pleased.

You wrestled with the King for a while, rolling your eyes and smashing him against the table as he refused to loosen his bite. The King went limp for just a moment while you strapped him to the table with special restraints. His skull wasn't even cracked as you’d gone easy on him, it also helped that his breed was tougher than the pet variety.

Being strapped down by his neck made the king easier to handle, even when he snapped out of his daze and began to thrash again, this time though without the threat of fangs. It was easy for you to pin down his tail and arms down long enough to strap them to the table.

This was all just a show of force, to prove that she could do whatever she wanted to his mate, and he could do nothing about it. She needed him as violent as possible in response to threats to his mate, she needed him to stall in relation to his street taught values, if only so she could delete them.

You finished strapping him to the table, and picked up the remote to your mini shock collar, pausing for a moment and wondering if you should maybe start with pulling teeth first. However you needed a far more compliant King than you had currently, and it helped that the Cherry’s cries were beginning to grate on your nerves.

Looking over at the Cherry you sighed, it was still crying, smelly and pitiful as it cowered in the corner furthest from you and the King, too petrified of the violence to move. You waved the button in front of the king who hissed at the sight.

“DO NOT HARM MY MATE YOU WORTHLESSSSSS HUMAN!” He screeched, as you shook your head and pressed the button. As expected the sight of his mate in pain sent him into a frenzy, he spit, while you mocked him for his inability to do anything. You approached the cage of the Cherry intent on subduing the King in the most effective way possible.

“NOOOOOOO!” The King continued to screech. While the Cherry recovered from the shock cowered and begged for you not to hurt him. Of course, that wouldn't happen.

You carefully took the soiled Cherry out of his cage once more, and placed him next to the King, the King seemed to calm as the Cherry strained for its mate. You let them reunite for a moment, if only to grab a bitty sized dental gag and pry the King's mouth open. Once successful, despite the Cherry’s begging. You once more picked up the Cherry, and placed his hand into the King’s mouth, before carefully pricking him with the King’s fangs.

The unholy screech of the King was nothing like the ones before. His venom was incredibly effective, and on a creature as small as the Cherry its effect was seen immediately.

Pale faced and beginning to flush redder than normal, the Cherries tears became more frantic. He blubbered the same as normal as he tried to free himself from your grasp. Plopping him next to the King you pressed the button of the shock collar again and held. Looking the King straight in the eyes as it began to cry red tears. There was no understanding past the dental gag. But you knew well enough what was going on. A sinister smile graced your lips as you turned away from the king, taking the Cherry with you as you left the room. As far as the King knew, his mate was dead, dead by its own hand.

---

You returned shortly, having cured the Cherry from the King’s venom and stalled it in order to erase its memory of the training. Standard practice for once a bitty had been fully trained, the training would remain while the memory did not, no risk of blabbing to customers who really had no idea what was happening. It was necessary as while you trained the King the Cherry would bond with its new mother.

The King was still sobbing as you returned, and you used the lack of struggle to your advantage.

“It's a shame he had to die because of you.” You egged on, watching as the King seemed to deflate even further. You took that moment to put on your gloves and remove the restraints. The King didn't attack, and your smile was as venomous as the King as you removed the dental gag.

“WHY?” The King asked, and you couldn't help but chuckle, as you started to stroke its head soothingly, as you spit out harsh words. “That's because you are a bad bitty. A horrible protector.” The king flinched at that but immediately you turned it around. “But still so brave, and handsome.” Of course, the contrary information stilled the King, stalling him, and allowing you to reach for his AI, and stroke it. His eyelights buzzed a little, as you wiped away his need to monopolize his mate, his “charges.” There was of course more work to be done, but he would be too grief stricken to struggle. Just the way you needed him. You supposed it was about time to pull out some teeth.

---

By the time your bitty behavioral therapy was done, the King was a model example of a protection bitty. He was still a horribly bossy creature, but he no longer insisted on isolating his charges or displayed sexual desires outside of for his mate. He focused entirely on “protecting” and only grew violent when there was sufficient threat.

Meanwhile, the Cherry had not stopped crying for his mate until he met his new mother. He was of course still sad, but as most pet variety bitties are ought to do, the introduction of a new mommy or daddy tends to cheer them up instantly. Which was good, as the Chery, newly dubbed Sebastian, had sufficient time to bond with his new mother without the interference of a mate. The client learned easily to care for a Cherry, while also undergoing coaching from the rancher in order to be an effective King owner.

On the day that the King was to return to his owners care. The owner had been nervous, she had lost confidence in owning bitties, and while Sebastian had helped, it still did not erase the nervousness she felt even after 2 months.

“I’m not sure about taking him back.” She stated, holding the Cherry close to her heart, he was as usual, teary eyed, but at the words of his owner, he burst into hysterics.

“Nooo!!! Mommy please I want Mori back! Please let me see Mori!” He begged, rubbing his snot covered face into her shirt. The owner seemed to deflate at this, and sighed, rubbing her Cherries back in reassurance. While you marveled at the fact that he was still suffering from some sort of stockholm syndrome.

“We’ll just have to see for now.” She said, and looked at you for reassurance.

“You really don't have to worry.” You replied, voice chipper. “He’s nothing like he was before, you’ll be safer with him now than you would be without. He’s a model King, the perfect guard for any home.” You made your way towards the back noting the wariness of your client, but you stood by what you said, Moriarty was a model King, with all the coaching you’d given Shelby there was no reason to worry anymore.

Making your way into the back you spotted Moriarty in his enclosure, he was sunning himself as you approached. There was no sign of pulled teeth, skinned tails, or broken bones anywhere on him, and he only flinched slightly at the sound of your voice.

“Your mothers ready to see you now.” You sang watching the King light up and practically shoot to your outstretched arm. He curled himself around your arm, vibrating with anticipation at the prospect of seeing his mother again. You hummed in satisfaction as you made your way back to where Shelby was waiting.

The Cherry fell to the floor as he threw himself out of his mothers arms, he fell with a thwack, chanting Mori as he ran to you. The King very nearly pounced at the Cherry, he had tears in his eyes and seemed shocked and elated to see his mate. Although the Cherry's supposed ‘death’ had been erased from his mind he still had thought his mate dead, thus the tears. Before he could rush to his mate you held your hand up. “Stop.” You commanded, preventing the King who was practically vibrating from going to his mate. He was restless and voiced his immense displeasure. “YOU MUST LET ME GO SEE IF MY MATE IS HARMED!” He practically screeched into your ear, but still stayed still, causing Shelby’s eyes to widen in shock. She would have never imagined that the previously unruly and violent King would become so obedient, even if he was still incredibly bossy.

The Cherry at your feet practically hugged your leg as he cried and pleaded for his mate to come to him, you stopped walking forward before your punted him across the room, and smiled warmly at Shelby even as Moriarty squirmed on your shoulders as he looked between his mate and his mother, frustration growing as he stayed put, as you were gesturing for him to.

The cries of the Cherry became background noise as you spoke to Shelby. “As you can see, he’s fully trained now. All you need to do is handle him like I taught you and he’ll respond appropriately.”

“YOU MUST LET ME DOWN NOW!” The king snapped, as he crossed his arms, still waiting for permission. Nothing could change his bossy tone, but he still could be trained to behave.

Your customer sputtered for a bit, before she seemed to snap out of it. “Oh… Um… Yes… Come here.” She said, and gestured with her hands as you’d taught her for her previously unruly King to come.

The response was instant, he practically lept from your arm, disregarding the Cherry, albeit patting him on the head as he passed, and basically leapt into the outstretched hand that his ‘mother’ had out for him. He practically purred at the contact with his ‘mother’, nuzzling her arm affectionately as he hugged her arm, shocking her while at the same time earning a smile.

“I AM VERY CROSS WITH YOU MOTHER! YOU DO NOT KNOW HOW MUCH I MISSED YOU!” The King stated, holding on firmly to his mothers arms as he stared longingly at the crying Cherry that was running and trying to climb up his mothers leg.

“I can see that.” She answered, smile wide and tears coloring the side of her eyes.

“NOW I MUST INSIST THAT WE COMFORT MY MATE!” He screeched, looking down at Sebastian with longing. Which in turn caused his owner to laugh and reach down to pick up the crying Cherry.

“There we go, the whole family’s together, Sebastian, Moriarty and mommy!” She cried, sniffling as Moriarty kissed the forehead of his crying mate.

“Thank you so much!” She cried, as she walked over to you and shook your hand. “I can’t believe how much he’s changed! Thank you! I can’t thank you enough!”

Grinning ear to ear, you replied. “Really, it was my pleasure.”

#bitty abuse #bitty torture #Psychological Abuse #psychological torture #king lamia #cherry bitty #shock collar #bitty rape #stockholm syndrome #memory manipulation #abusive realtionships

38 notes · View notes

ak47stylegirl · 4 years ago

Text

I have wings, so why do I feel so stuck to the ground like never before? (Fic snippet #2)

Okay, @the-lady-razorsharp wanted more of this Thunderbirds/DC superhero au so here it is! :D Another snippet!

Also big thanks to @gumnut-logic for sharing the 400 words a day thing *hugs* I’m really liking it so far, the sheer freedom of knowing that I don’t need to write anymore then 400 words is freeing. I’m really hoping this will help me get out of this mental writers block I’m in *Laughs nervously because don’t want to jinx it lol*

I don’t really know if this is any good but I hope you guys enjoy! XD

---

It was busy in the downtown diner, the Tv playing the news in the corner and general chatter from people eating their dinner made it a very loud place. And it so happened that it was his shift, so yes he was very much getting a headache from the sheer noise, he thought grimacing slightly as he wiped a table down.

But it couldn’t be helped, he needed the money this job gave him to live, so he just had to deal with it; it was fine. His wings were hidden under a glamour charm, making it seem like they wasn’t there at all.

But they very much were, he thought tensing up slightly as he barely missed hitting a customer with his invisible wings. It would be so much easier if he could always keep them flat against his back but he used them for balance, so they moved without him even realising it sometimes.

Which was really dangerous for him, he thought with a sigh, carrying a tray full of dirty cups and plates to the kitchen. He was just coming out of the kitchen when he heard it-

‘Tracy’

And all his senses went on hyperdrive, preparing to get him out of there at a moments notice without anyone being the wiser. His eyes scanned the room but he didn’t see any of his brothers, which caused the alarms in his head to quiet down a bit.

It had just been the TV, he thought with a slight sigh of relief as he made his way behind the counter/bar. He hated how scared he was at the mare idea of being spotted by one of his brothers or someone that knew him from before. He hated that one of his first reactions was to run as far away as he could, he hated it!

Even in the mask, and when international rescue and himself are in the same place; trying to do the same thing, save lives, he still feels uneasy being around them. He tries not to talk much or look at them for long in case they recognise him and well, if he looks or spends too much time with them; he knows he would not be able to stop himself from revealing all.

He shook his head, burying those thoughts deep with in his mind. He did not need to go down that rabbet hole, get a hold of yourself Phoenix, he thought as he started to clean a couple of the cocktail glasses at the small sink behind the bar.

But why exactly were the news talking about his fam-

He stilled, his face going pale as he read the headline. ‘Anniversary of youngest Tracy’s disappearance’

Oh...Oh, he swallowed, turning his face down to look at the bubbly water of the sink. It was that day...

‘Ten years ago to this day, Alan Tracy, son of billionaire astronaut Jeff Tracy, disappeared from his school, Wharton Academy, where he shared a dorm with his best friend, Fermat Hackenbacker, late one night. No one knows what exactly happened to the youngest Tracy-’

Except him, he thought with a frown, tuning out the rest of the news report as he tried to keep the memories at bay. He didn’t need to hear anymore.

“You know, it’s weird...” His work colleague, Frank muttered, starring up at the TV with a perplexed look. The news was still talking about his disappearance...

“What is?” He asked with a raised eyebrow, welcoming the distraction from his thoughts and memories.

Frank frowned at him, “The fact that you look almost exactly like that Tracy kid-”

He felt his eyes widen slightly as glanced at the TV where a photo of his past self was still front and centre; he was smiling, eyes bright with a innocent he no longer possessed. There were some differences between him and, well his past self.

For one their hair was slightly different, his hair was more platinum blond, not the dirty brown blond it used to be. The merging of his DNA with an alien’s DNA hadn’t just given him wings, his whole physiology was different. Hence his hair being lighter.

While on the topic, his hair was also more styled, up and out of his eyes then his part self, who had it more messily ruffled. He was sure there was four older brothers that could lay claim to creating that hair style.

But other then the slight hair different, and his face being slightly more defined and less baby fat, their faces looked near identical. Though he knew he was a lot thinner and more toned with subtle muscles than his past self, his body used to fighting and bending in ways that really shouldn’t be possible.

(He wasn’t going to think about the scars, he wasn’t going to think about the scars, he wasn’t going to think about the scars!)

“-you even have the same name..” Frank ended, looking at him suspiciously. He quickly switched gears, and prepared to get himself out of this situation. Good thing he was a good liar, he knew how to act to get people off his tail.

He faked a laugh, grinning at his colleague. “I do? That so Cool!” He grinned with excitement, making his eyes wide and innocent as he continued to work. “I always wanted a celebrity twin!”

“uh...” Frank blinked, visibly confused by his reaction, which was what he wanted. “But, ur isn’t it, I don’t know? Weird that you look exactly the same and share the same name?”

Frank was still giving him that suspicious look but he looked more unsure now.

“What?” He raised a eyebrow, letting a bit of disbelief and confusion show on his face “You don’t think I’m actually Alan Tracy, do you?” He asked with a laugh, letting frank think that he was laughing at the sheer silliness of such a thing.

“Do I look 25 to you?” He laughed, laying his hand against his chest, making a show of raising his eyebrows in disbelief, letting a bit of mild offence colour his voice. “because um, ouch, that hurts..”

He knew he looked young, because physically and to a extent mentally, he was still a teenager of sixteen years. Partly because of his alien DNA and because the league of assassins figured that freezing their weapon in suspended animation while not in use was good idea.

Frank laughed nervously, trying to save himself from embarrassment. “Ha ha, yeah, what was I thinking? You look more like you should be in diapers then anywhere near legal age, kid..”

He gasped dramatically, scrunching his nose up, “well, that’s almost worse!” he pouted as he finished cleaning the glasses.

“ha, yeah...” Frank laughed slightly, a slight flush on his cheeks as he walked away to serve a customer. He felt his wings, which had been tensely held tight against his back, relax.

That had been...unpleasant, normally he didn’t have to deal with stuff like that as people automatically dismissed him on the accent of him being too young, but Frank always been one to jump to conclusions without thinking if it was possible or not, so he really wasn’t surprised.

He hanged his apron up and clocked out, heading out of the busy diner and into the chilly night air; the ‘Tracy Industries’ sign on his family’s building glowing in the distance.

A part of him just wanted to be put out of his misery, he wanted to face them and just get their rejection over with because they didn’t want him, they want a version of him that didn’t exist anymore and he couldn’t give that to them.

But a bigger part of him was just too scared, too terrified to face them, to face the truth. Even though he knew it was killing him, would kill him one day, he could not bring himself to face them.

Some brave Tracy he sure was, he thought with a scowl, lowing his face, unable to face the light of his family’s sign.

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds 2004 #original thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #alan tracy #Scott Tracy #Virgil Tracy #John Tracy #Gordon Tracy

33 notes · View notes

bananaink · 4 years ago

Photo

I’m revisiting some of my very old OCs, just because I felt a bit dumb again and it helps not feeling dumb going back to comfort-characters :’D (the new pic is the first one, the second from 2012)

He’s one of my favourites from early 2012 that just got buried under all the new ones. I had my steampunk-phase, built a whole world actualy for a story and I still very much love it! But these details, man... I bow before everyone that has the patience to draw every little gear and trinket in true steampunk-fashion.

But I managed to improve his design and feel more secure about his backstory and what I wanna do with him :D His world-setting is steampunk-fantasy-ish, which basically means every fantasy-people-creature you want, plus a bit of magic here and there.

More Info on Kai and Lizzy under the cut :D

I drew Lizzy-the-Lizard one time and just copied her into every picture, making sure I never had to change her pose :’D Even now I just added some small details because I’m tired :’D

Kai on the other hand - I changed a lot about him! Well, outfit-wise. He’s still an asshole, an engineer and has such a big ego you can riverdance on it. Also, very cocky and thinks he can improve every bit of machinery or whatever comes his way. And if it doesn’t work, he keeps working on it until it does and he can shove it under your nose with a big "Ha! Who is the idiot NOW?!”

He’s especially annoying to his coworkers because he makes thinks work that should not work because this cable doesn’t even power anything?! How is the joint moving - there are no gears running it!!! What did you do?!

And Kai will just sit there, cocky smile on his face, chest puffed out with pride and tell them to shut up, he’s the best, he knows what he’s doing, no further explanation. Just watch and learn.

What he doesn’t know is, that he has a bit of magic running through his veins that accidently leak into his creations, giving them enough live of their own to work as intended. Because of said magic, his body rejects any long-term implants or body-modifications, which leaves him without a prothesis for his lost arm. Instead, he took it upon himself to make as many prosthesis as he can because he not only wanted one for himself but also because they are the hardest to get to function properly. If you lost a limb/wing/organ, go to him because it will work.

He’s book-smart, knows his way around all kinds of gears and machinery, but when it comes to people? Ufff. Plane crash. One time he fixed a blown-off mermaid-tail with a mechanical one and improved her speed over her original tempo by 30%. But by the end of the attachment-operation he was banned in three different sea-cities and had to be saved by his coworker from drowning because they had a full out brawl in the patient-tub. The mermaid didn’t want to talk about it and Kai was trying to get his already-paid-for creation back (which would be bad for business).

His boss is exasperated, but the customers come in for the quality of the merch and Kai has made him a ton of money so he keeps Kai around because the guy is not too bad. Usually. They make sure he has as little contact to their customers as possible. Kai is fine with that. He has already lost so many jobs in the past and getting customers on his own is just straight up impossible so he stays. But he has Lizzy, his self-made left-hand with a mind of her own. He doesn’t want to go out drinking or eating or partying like the rest. He doesn’t need an acknowledging pat on the back for a job done well or friendly jokes to lighten the mood. He has himself, Lizzy and more to create.

#my art #my OC #MY OCs #Kai and Lizzy #Kai #Lizzy the Lizard #steampunk #ish #redraw #from 2012 #holy hell #so many years ago #...#maybe I find something even older to redraw?!#but I didn't have my computer then so I might have to get out my old drawing folders #we'll see #maybe this is already enough to get me back on track :D #sorry no au #but i'm a bit proud so I wanted to share :D

88 notes · View notes

the-headbop-wraith · 4 years ago

Text

3 _ 47 A Goodbye Letter

Kingsman Mechanics didn’t usually pick out supplies with smaller distributors, but occasionally Arthur would roll around to collect some of the less essential equipment which had a habit of wearing out. Sometimes it was worth it to spurge a buck if the use was versatile enough, while other equipment had components that wore out regularly and it required periodic maintenance. Other assets he did like to snag spur of the moment, typically for his personal work such as on his arm, or when he needed inspiration for new gear that was hitting the market.

It was always such an outlet to head out of town and browse the techno shop, supplied with quality parts and computer components for modest prices. One division of the shop displayed aisles of industrial shelving, with test gadgets up top for casual shoppers. Other portions of the store dedicated inventory to domestic living, or industrial distribution. It was likewise one of the nearest shops that carried valued craft supplies for largescale modeling, such as welding and do-it-yourself engineering. For Arthur’s needs, he was aiming for some new soldering parts to boost the efficiency in a refurbished arm.

There were advantages to a custom made mechanical arm. Dealing with corroded bolts and nuts or working with a stubborn, over twisted bolt was not the issue it used to be. However, it wasn’t a real arm, some of the angles he used to twist into for reaching sections of a car was now troublesome, and his false arm had limits different to a limb of flesh and blood. The circuits and servos didn’t mend on their own over time, if something inside the arm ceased altogether the whole arm crapped out. He couldn’t call for ten and give the arm a chance to heal, anything that needed fixing Arthur did so in his spare time. To avoid those complications, rotors and gears required maintenance; the harder the work, the more frequent the checkups. Circuits burnt out due to overuse – sometimes it overheated – wiring frayed of came loose from the excessive movement and prolonged abuse.

And dear gods, did he abuse his arm.

He moved down the large lane, checking his phone and comparing the listing to the names and brands of spooled wires in bins. A metal with a higher heat tolerance was more expensive, but it would endure more hours. However, he needed to construct a better housing for the circuit line to prevent the insulation getting snagged. One of the first arms he built, he totally forgot to factor in gravity and momentum; the wires were not secured like they should’ve been and the model was short lived. He didn’t even make it through the first (return to) paranormal case, they didn’t even arrive to the destination before the thing died.

With a shudder, he tossed the elected spool into his basket. Within, some large crates of craft metal for repairing cosmetic areas of the shop. Some lowkey cheapy materials he bought offhand, rather order wholesale. Some test gear to burn through before reaching out to large distributors for orders.

Next, he ventured to the aisle for hosing and insulation components. A new building line for storing energy for the battery would extend the functionality of his arm. The only thing he could do while resting was recharge the internal battery, big whoop.

On his way to the aisle, Arthur dithered and gave his space a brief examination. The creeping sensation that someone was watching, or someone followed him. It was no mistake, he knew that sensation better than a burn. No way this was paranoia. Never would he attribute his instincts to paranoia.

For now, he played it cool. It was more to the hope that being out in public would deter something malicious, but he wouldn’t let on about his suspicions. Once he reached the parking zone, he’d have to be on his—

In his ruminations, Arthur almost didn’t react in time to avoid the basket that eased out into his path. However, his reflexes remained uncontested, and he managed to swerve despite his gimp arm.

“Holy crepes! I’m so sorry, excuse—” He shut up, and mayhap his face drained of what little color it had. In his path stood….

MAMMA PEPPER!

The stern face, the tight shoulders, the imposing aura. Arthur purposefully avoided the Pepper Paradiso, the whole Pepper Bushel – save one vengeful spook – nononononononononononononononononononoNO! Why is she here? He avoided all the grocery stores in all their small town, save for the few times he had to go out and pick up foodstuffs because his Uncle was too sick or swamped with work, whatever – he couldn’t let Uncle Lance go out, even if he insisted he was fine – she couldn’t be here, not in the sacred mechanics haven. The last frontier of casual shopping, and freedom from the accusing eye. This was inconceivable!

Arthur opened his mouth, but words abandoned him. His throat generated an eerie whine. “Ack.”

“Arthur,” Mamma Pepper spoke, voice icy, but somehow heated and thick. “I haven’t seen you in some time. You and Vivi, don’t come by anymore. Do you?”

Any shape or form of human vocalization was beyond Arthur. He clenched his jaw, choked back a swallow, and tried for a syllable. “Uh.”

“Are you all right? Should I leave you?” She pulled the basket backwards, though there was plenty of room for Arthur to move onward.

“No,” squeaked Arthur. “Uh… it’s all right. I mean, I’m fine. It’s okay.” He took a breath. Without a word, Mamma Pepper stood, rigid and impassive. “Yeah. It’s fine. Um, Vivi… she uh, she—” He stalled when Mamma Pepper raised a hand.

“I see. I didn’t mean to intrude.” She tightened her grip on the basket. “I try not to push, but I also don’t want you both believing you are not welcome. You are always… welcomed at the Pepper Paradiso. Does it help when I remind you?” She peaked one critical eye at Arthur.

He nodded. “It… yes. I appreciate the offer.” He glanced aside, then, checked the supplies in the basket. Industrial Gas Connectors, among other parts and pieces from gauges to replacement dials. “How’s the restaurant doing?” Mamma Pepper seemed to frown. Seemed to. And sighed.

“Business as usual.”

“I didn’t mean the business,” Arthur interjected. “I was talking about your equipment. I meant to call and ask, if you… needed some maintenance work? I could come by sometime. I can bring, eh… Vivi. She’d like to come by too, I think. I’d have to ask. She’s been, um…” reflexively, he reached over to grip at his metal wrist, “been doing, erm… well. Yeah. I wanted to ask….” He stalled.

Mamma Pepper’s stare became harder, more critical. But there was an underlying softness he could scarcely discern.

For the past month Lewis spent the bulk of his time at Vivi’s apartment, while she was out at work or checking in with Arthur during days off. Though she recognized Lewis wouldn’t remain the whole time locked away or secluded from the world, he left notes when he was jamming off and for how long he intended to be. Where he went remained a mystery, which she was not super eager to inquire about but she did remain curious. She was more apt in reading his nonverbal cues and perhaps a little underestimated in her abilities, given her experience with paranormal creatures.

Today was one of the first times she hauled Lewis out, though he was foremost invited to change up his ‘routine’, whatever that consisted of. For a bit, he pretended to give the offer some thought – while he hovered midair looking pretty relaxed. It wasn’t a huge surprise that he went along, not that he had a schedule or anything to keep on task with. Aside from shopping runs, a task reserved for the evening, with funds set out for his personal use, and having no real needs of his own. He spent the money on making sure Vivi was well stocked, so poor-poor Mystery wouldn’t have to watch his partner drink those awful canned teas.

This day was not one to be in any particular place, with an established time to return on. It was a rare day to get out there and go nowhere, spend time in each other’s company.

And Vivi felt like she was getting to know a Lewis better. She wasn’t certain which Lewis she was becoming more aware of, since there was a difference between Lewis Pepper when he was living, and the Lewis postmortem – if she was to put it indelicately. There were not enough notebooks and folders in the Box which gave her insight into Lewis Pepper, not enough pictures to rekindle memories stolen from the pools of reflection. It didn’t matter so much that she remembered who he was, but that she knew who he is. It bothered her that she lost what once was, and might never be able to take it back.

A braided crown of stems and flowers alit on Vivi’s head. She took it down and gave the hoop shape a brief scrutiny.

“Not my best flower crown,” Lewis admitted. “But not a lot of flowers ‘round here.” He held a short stem between his teeth, and gave a comical southern draw.

“Is it imbued with special, mystical properties?” She turned the crown over and over. Lewis’ voice hitched, as he cackled.

“No, Vii. Not everything needs special secret magic to make it special.” He grinned. “It’s an old fashioned, unremarkable, flower crown.”

Vivi set the crown back upon her head. “Plants always have a charm about them, through the winter they endure. I don’t know what it is. The dormancy, the anticipation of reawakening post a harsh and relentless season, something previously viewed as unsightly, reviving, blooming. Hmm… I hope we can have a snowfall before the cold ends.”

Lewis shrugged. He leaned back against the tree they sat beneath, shaded from the sun by the thin branches brimming with miniscule buds. “One more snow fall wouldn’t be too bad, though I always love the colors of spring. I’m eager for the return of some color.”

Across the open field of the park, Mystery darted by like a bullet. As if a vengeful spirit was snapping at his tail. Like he was racing his own shadow.

Vivi reclined back and rested her head on his thigh. “Hey.”

“Hmm?”

“When you leave your notes? Do you actually go out somewhere, or… do you sometimes rest too?” she pondered. “I get this feeling you’re not gone completely. Like you’re still there, but unresponsive. Resting?”

Lewis reached a hand up and scratched at his cheek. “Uh, perceptive much? Sometimes I am a little weary and can’t fully manifest, like the way you… know. Since I can’t just be, I don’t want you to worry. Other times, I’ll find my way to the van. It… is a place where I feel at peace. Dunno why that is.”

Vivi pulled her hands up and folded them over her middle. “Hanging around with the living still overwhelming?”

“It’s a lot of energy to deal with. I can’t really escape it.” Vivi smirked.

“And how’s the van coming along?”

Lewis wheezed, “Slowly.”

Vivi tilted her head back further and gazed into the rich azure sky. “What about you? Not that it matters right now, but you’re not casting a shadow. That only happens when somethings on your mind, or you’ve pushed yourself a little too much.”

Lewis reached over and tucked back a loose hair under the woven crown. “That’s nothing to worry about, I’ve been more active than usual. I guess it’s not so noticeable when we’re doing the travel gig, and you’re focused not on me.” He offered a sly waggle of his brow above the sunglasses, and Vivi responded by squinting back suspiciously. “Mi queria, don’t worry so much. If I thought something was off, you’d be the first person I’d go to.”

Vivi scoffed. “You better, buster.”

Mystery sprinted over and gave pause, long enough to tumble down beside Vivi and roll in the scraggily grass. “Mystery!” The wily hound snatched the crown from her head and took off, his yapping suspiciously rebounding like cackling laughter. “You give that back!” Vivi flew up, scrambling to get on her feet. Lewis was up immediately, skiing forward.

“Oh! I absolutely will catch you! Don’t you doubt it!”

The ears and hair on Mystery shot up, and he was off faster than a beam of light. Lewis dove after the dog, zigzagging in wild patterns and grabbing at thin air upon every duck and slide Mystery pulled. The grass beneath Lewis’ heels scorched upon every twist; try as he might though, the pup was unattainable.

Before Vivi could fully devote herself to the chase, the muffled hum of her phone went off. She almost went ahead and left the phone beneath the tree, tucked away safely in the backpack, but decided better and picked it up. “Arthur?”

“Hey,” replied through the phone.

“Didn’t expect a call from you. Is everything okay?” She spun around and watched as Mystery made a wide turn, with Lewis hot on his tail. Literally. When Lewis spied Vivi on the phone, he abruptly broke out of his glide and jogged over. “Hmm?”

“What was that? Is Lew there?”

“Yeaahhh… Lew’s here.” She grinned up at the aforementioned specter. Lewis’ appearance flashed and shimmered, he set his hands on his vest and tugged. “Arthur says hi.”

“Tell him… hey, back for me?”

“Lew says Hay.” Arthur laughed. That was a good sound.

“I was callin’ to see if you were busy tonight, I have something I wanna ask.”

Vivi stepped back into the shade and leaned on the tree. “You can’t ask right now, over the phone?” Mystery padded around the side of the tree, lil crown looped over one ear.

“It’s ahh… a lil complicated, to talk about. Actually, you and Lew both.” Arthur didn’t sound super fortified himself, but his words came through. “Would Lew be willing to come by? If not, that’s okay too. It’s up to him. But he can come by too, I could talk to him.”

Vivi looked over to Lewis and hit the mute button on her phone. “He wants to see you.”

“I got that.” Lewis’ appearance dimmed, the burning eye behind the sunglasses glistened in the shifting fractures of his projected appearance. For a moment, Vivi thought he would vanish or lose his grip.

“You can say no,” she affirmed. “You don’t have to give a reason. He’ll understand.”

Lewis snatched her hand before she could work at the phone screen. “No, espera. I’d like to see Artie.”

“You sure?” You and he… you think you’re up for it?”

“Yeah.” Lewis took the little stalk of grass from his mouth and tossed it. “If he’s cool, I’d be down for a visit.”

Vivi unmuted her phone. “Hey Art, you still there?” Arthur replied with a hum. Some background noise came through his side, it sounded like traffic or machinery. “What would be a good time for us to swing by?”

“Around seven, a little after,” he offered. “I’m running some errands, so no rush. You don’t sleep, do you?”

“Mmm,” Vivi mocked contemplated. “It’s not in my schedule.” A sound akin to static emitted, and she took it as Lewis best attempt at clearing his throat. “Sounds good.” She wondered briefly, but dismissed the thoughts. “We’ll see you then.” She clicked off the phone and made certain it was closed out.

To Lewis, “He sounded tense and anxious. I didn’t want to ask.”

Lewis went over and took the crown off Mystery’s head, and set it back on Vivi’s blue hair. “If there’s a problem, I can duck out. Not that I mind a meet, some nonbusiness would be a nice change.”

Vivi peered at him quizzically. “I don’t think there should be. He’s put a lot of work at the shop, and that helps. But we’ll see.” She began walking, with Mystery picking up the pace by her side and Lewis at her shoulder. “Anywhere else you wanna roll by and check out?” She fitted her hand into Lewis’ and gripped his fingers.

In a flash of embers, Lewis lost his very convincing living appearance and stood frozen mid stride. At least the park for the time sat empty.

Vivi stiffened. “Fuck!”

Another crate of supplies went into the back of the work truck on loan. The parts and materials sat on high value, even the copper was an easy swipe if some lowlife happened by and recognized the glossy hull. With all the valuables packed into the front seats, Arthur shut and locked up.

Paths of sidewalk wound around the patches of desert xeriscape and clumps of cactus, cutting the sidewalk and parking zone into jagged portions. An expansive patio rolled out from the building entrance, fitted with a wide awning and short fence to divide the patio from the walkway. A few tables sat, awaiting company on the chilly day.

Arthur moved through the opening of the fence, his gaze taking in faces, his apprehension spiked higher. He didn’t see any familiar faces, but that didn’t reassure him. It was chilly, and his metal arm shifted in the sling; the only arm covered at this time. It would be best to leave, this wasn’t a good idea. He’d call, apologize. She’d understand. He hoped she’d understand. He took a step back. On the thoroughfare traffic picked up, though none of the vehicles cruising by slowed or pulled into the parking lane. Not yet. But soon….

The entrance to the café swept open and a familiar face glided out. Arthur grimaced, but hadn’t given his legs the memo to relocate. That would’ve been hella rude.

“I’m glad you could make it.”

Arthur put a hand to the low top of the fence at his side, but reframed from leaning. He was certain if he did anything but stand, he’d collapse.

“Yeah. I had a,” he stammered, struggling to collect his words, “a last pickup. Have you been waiting long?”

Mamma Pepper stood stock still, statuesque. “Not long at all. It’s chilly outside, I have a table waiting.” It sounded almost like she was inviting him into her own restaurant, though Arthur wasn’t sure why this out of the way café.

He checked the area over before stepping forward. One foot, then the other, steady. “This place. It’s new.”

“I assisted the owner’s in getting set up,” Mamma Pepper supplied. She held the door for Arthur, until he ventured in of his own pace. “Sometimes my family offers taste testing, and vice versa.”

Arthur concealed the little twinge that ran through his spine. “Awesome.” The interior was not splendid or over done, but simplistic with a homey charm. At the furthest side of the room, logs crackled and churned within a brick fireplace. From the ceiling, rustic lanterns hung. The dim light competed with the sparse interior tables, and the little candles flickering. One table at the furthest wall harbored a mug of steaming liquid.

“Take your time, if you choose to order,” Mamma Pepper spoke. “There’s no rush.” She left him and weaved around the tables, until she reached her target. She pulled a chair out, and then took her seat at the table across from the vacant chair. A blatant invitation, if he ever saw one.

Despite a line, Arthur went ahead and made an order. After the barista took his name, he ventured over to the location Mamma Pepper claimed. She was sipping at the beverage. “I never gave that sorta theme much thought,” he admitted. “They offer some interesting… mixes.” Concoctions sounded rude.

Mamma Pepper nodded and hummed. “Coffee and tea blends, with traditional staples. I wanted to tell you about it sooner, but I didn’t want to intrude.”

“Ah.”

“How have you been?” She squinted one eye at Arthur. “I expect well.”

“Y-yeah. We… uh, Vii and I, we’re still at it.” He rubbed the back of his head with the heel of his palm. “Doing investigations. Y’know that.”

“Nothing stops that girl.” A hint of a smile graced Mamma Pepper’s face. “I’m glad to hear.”

The barista brought by Arthur’s beverage, exchanged conversation on how the two were doing, and left. It was a joy to focus on something else, if even briefly.

“What did you get?”

Arthur gave the warm liquid a try. “One of the trademark Hy-blends.” He wasn’t a stranger to abominable tea and coffee concoctions, or anything to spark his brain and keep his eyes open on the longest of long roads between towns. But this was really good, the appropriate balance of strength to mellow, with perhaps too much cream making it thick like ice-cream. But good nonetheless. It wouldn’t keep his heart beating, but it was flavorful.

His mind worked to bring forth the questions, to inquire about how a family went on in the absence of a loved one. How did one approach the topic, and when was it an appropriate time? There was no reason to approach that at all, no reason to drag it forward if he could avoid it. He sipped his beverage, trying his darndest not to quake.

“You have a way with the machinery,” Mamma Pepper went on, through the absence of substance. “The equipment gets fixed – mind you – everything works without hitch, but it’s not the same. I can’t put my finger on what’s different. Your help was appreciated.”

Arthur slunk down in his seat a bit. “Yeah. Mn, sorry ‘bout that. Not, uh….”

“Arthur,” she stated, firmly. “I’m not disappointed. I’m trying to explain that we missed you. We missed Arthur, not Arthur the mechanic. Just… Arthur.” She sipped at her drink.

“Oh, right.” He looked around at the dimly lit space, the steady stream of customers. “Have you helped other restaurants get opened up? It’s pretty sweet, nothing like the Pepper Paradiso. Er, it’s more… rustic, I guess?”

Their exchange seemed to fall into place after that, with Mamma Pepper going lightly over a few changes at the Pepper Paradiso. The two caught up on how they were getting along, while skittering aside from the topic involving Vivi. Arthur wasn’t certain how to approach that grape vine, but Mamma Pepper’s questions were careful. It almost felt normal, like he wasn’t cowering under some terrible weight and suffocating. He could breath a little easier, his replies coming with minimal hitch – when he didn’t think about the now. She did admit her family kept up to date with Uncle Lance, which surprised him. Lance never let on he stayed in touch with the Peppers, though given his Uncle’s pokey (though prying) it was a little obvious.

As the minutes ticked by, Arthur did become comfortable with a topic delving into how Vivi was keeping. He didn’t want to elaborate a whole lot, but he wanted to assure Mamma Pepper that in the least, the blue-headed investigator sleuth had asked about the family. He wasn’t sure where to go from there, but Mamma Pepper filled in the blanks. She offered cheerful accounts of how the girls were growing so fast, what grade they were in now, and the mischief. It was all good conversation, pleasant and cathartic about the little things. Mostly mundane, and some entertaining and exciting. And when Arthur talked about the hamster he adopted, and built prosthetic wheels for, Mamma Pepper even smiled.

It was a little after six and the sun was in full set, when Vivi biked her way up the sidewalk beside Kingsman Mechanics. With her trotted the Mystery, prancing like a gazelle and very undog-like, but who was paying attention? Staff hadn’t cleared out completely, though the garages had long been shuttered and locked; barring the entitled customer from trying to get a simple (two hour) fix done on their car at the last minute. Vivi coasted up the empty carport and set her bike beside one of the sign poles for reserved parking, and latched the chain. Then, went over to the entry door and knocked. While she waited, Mystery turned his nose down and gave the area a brief scout.

“I know you can open the door, but I’m not keen on sneaking in.” As per usual, she wore one of the work backpacks, and in the side pocket sat a snug flashlight.

To Mystery, “You can run off for a bit, if you need. I think we’ll be fine.” This time, she gave the doorbell a buzz.

Mystery raised his head and gave Vivi one of his, “give me a break,” looks. He trotted back over.

In due time a wobbly, hazy form swelled beyond the dim barrier of the door. The door unlatched and opened; Uncle Lance stood there, somewhat surprised. “Aye, hey Vivi. Mystery.” He nodded to the dog as he padded by, welcoming himself in without prompt. “Arthur expectin’ yu?”

“Yeah,” she gasped. Upon entry, Uncle Lance secured the door behind them and pocketed the keys. “We’re a bit early… I had a few stops to make. Is he not in?” She fell in step behind Lance as he led the way, through the dark passage. Most the lights through the main workshop remained off, only the soft lamps offering radiance, enough to keep people from stumbling into each other or getting lost.

“Naw, been out all day.” Lance rolled his shoulders and stretched up one arm, gripping at the socket. “I should replace both arms,” he muttered. When he lowered that arm, he checked his watch. He didn’t wear a watch. “Not too worried. Ceptin’, I don’t have a ride out of ‘ere.”

Vivi couldn’t help but set a hand over her face and stifle the snicker. It was usually her or Arthur winding up stranded due to shared vehicles, if her bike was not available (though Arthur would first eat a healthbar than ride her bike). Now, it was Uncle Lance’s turn.

“I’m so sorry about that.”

Mystery yapped. It was a distant reply, given that he was now patrolling the work garage.

“Can’t be helped. I’m just glad whatever nonsense yu get involved with, you came out safe.”

Vivi grimaced and bit her lip. “Yes, very glad. It could’ve been bad.” Unbeknownst to Vivi, the flashlight flickered sporadically, until it sputtered and went out entirely. Crackling webs of fuchsia detached and dispersed off through the murky air.

Lance swung away from heading toward the office and gestured. “Something up with that flashlight?”

“Huh?” Vivi twisted herself in order to view the aforementioned electric torch. “Uhh?”

“I seein’ you haul that there thing around.” He tugged on his beard, in thought. “Well, not lately…. You’re not planning on doin’ no spook snoopin with Arthur? Ya’ll are on break from that job-work, eh? A vacation, ain’t it called?” He fixed Vivi with a ferocious, accusing glare – the shadow around his eyes intensifying to the tenth power. “Ain’t it, girl?”

Vivi sweated. How was it possible for someone so opposite of tall, to be so imposing. “N-no, Uncle. We… I swear….”

“I pay Arthur to do one of two things.” Uncle Lance counted them off on his fingers. “Work. An’ Rest. Ya got that!”

Vivi grabbed at her scarf. Oh sweet mother of gods, Lance looked set to unite with his rifle. “No! Absolutely NOT! Er, I… it needs to be looked over. I forgot to hand it over to Arthur, it was my fault! I was careless!” Lance’s features became more relaxed, and she risked a breathy exhale. Crisis averted.

“Ah. Groovy.” He pivoted and began walking, saying over his shoulder, “Call me when he gets in. And if you need somethin’, there’s chicken wings in the fridge.”

Vivi waved after him. “Kay! Thank you!” And then raced off, shooting into the corridor and charging up the stairs. Down the hall, the door to Arthur’s work room awaited ajar, and she barreled in.

A flash of embers all but blinded her. The rose-tinted blaze faded out leaving a hard, burnt fragrance throughout the room. “Lewis! Again?” She wobbled aside when Mystery shoved his way in through the doorway. “How does this keep happening?!”

“I thought you were Uncle Lance!” came the disembodied retort, somewhat crackly.

Vivi shut the door and checked the corkboard with the pinned schematics. “Why didn’t you wait then?” None of them were burnt, which was good.

“I got bored.” In a fuchsia surge of flames, Lewis shape reappeared. A skull and death suit, and then a fizzing surge of embers swirled about the skull and fitted the spirit with cheeks and a jaw, a living memory. “And… I kind of wanted to check the place out.”

Vivi studied Lewis for a moment, but said nothing. That was fast, though he hadn’t shed the death suit yet. “Okay. I’ll send Art a text, let him know we’re here. Make sure we don’t surprise him.” She set the backpack on the couch and rummaged through it. Mystery hopped up onto the cushions and curled up, his eyes tracking Vivi’s work. Up until she pulled up the laptop and her phone. “Aw. No power.”

She and Mystery turned their eyes to Lewis.

The spirit glanced aside and tugged at his tie. “You did ask earlier, didn’t you?”

Vivi pointed to her little phone. “There is a battery in here. It has only so much power.” Mystery growled and yipped.

“Be thankful your apartment covers utility costs.”

Vivi grumbled under her breath as she rooted around her backpack for the charger. “I forgot it. I know better.” Mystery bounced off the couch, within seconds he was back with Arthur’s charger clamped in his teeth. “Thank you. I probably have to hook up my laptop too.” She tsked, this was cumbersome and she knew better.

“I’m sorry!” Lewis swiped off the embers crackling at his vest and shirt sleeves, the same way someone would straighten out wrinkles.

“No you’re not,” Vivi snapped. “You shouldn’t be. It’s not your fault.” Thankfully, she never took the laptops charger out of the backpack; let alone disconnected it. She hooked it up to a surge bar and plopped down on the couch once more. Lewis sat down beside her.

“Watcha lookin’ up?”

“Emails. There better not be emails in my damn emails.” She went through the mail icon and sighed. “Of course, it’s from Duet.”

“Joy o joys.”

“A list of assets for review.” She closed out the email. “I’ll look at those later.” She pulled up a new tab, and began researching how to stop spirits from syphoning battery life on the Paranormal Corner site.

“Maybe… I should go for a bit.” Lewis glided out of his seat, up until Vivi caught the tail end of his vest and hauled him back down. “Or not….”

“Atta boy.”

#mystery skulls #mystery skulls fanfiction #mystery skulls fanfic #msa fanfiction #msa fanfic #mystery skulls lewis #mystery skulls mamma pepper #mystery skulls vivi #mystery skulls lance #mystery skulls mystery #mystery skulls arthur #mystery skulls ghost

7 notes · View notes

pauldron-pieces · 3 years ago

Text

Perdita 'Aurelezra' Gentle's Backstory: From Elsewhere

Fandom: Dungeons And Dragons (5E)

Pairing: N/A, Perdita-Centric

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: This is a hypothetical narrative scenario featuring original characters in a world created by my Dungeon Master. As usual, this is non-canon and I own nothing aside from intellectual properties specifically attached to Perdita Gentle. This installment is mechanically unsound in a multitude of ways and ignores certain important lore facets.

Applicable trigger warnings are listed inside. Enjoy!

Taglist: @sporadic-fics and @cookiethewriter!

Inspired By: The Little Mermaid Score: Bedtime and sleepmakeswaves: One Day You Will Teach Me To Let Go Of My Fears

[Perdita Gentle is a Warforged celestial warlock utilizing the Pact Of The Bastion homebrew, and her appearance can be found here!]

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains multiple triggering scenes including vivid depictions of violence and brief mentions of character death. Stay safe!]

It came from elsewhere...

Amidst the hail of shooting stars peppering the landscape from the tail of the near-passing comet, something else arrived.

It was frail, fragile, spindly fingers clawing for purchase on the walls of the crater it emerged from. It did not make it much further than that, and it was discovered the following morning by two children surveying the damage in their family's garden.

Between the two of them, they propped it up, marveling at the chipped red gilding that coated its limbs. It stirred and they fled in a panic, running back towards the large house and calling for their parents.

×+×

Brand stared down at the crumpled mess of Warforged on his front terrace, an eyebrow raised. His two young children danced around his legs, alternating between pulling him forward and tugging him back. "This is the cause of all the fuss? This?" He asked incredulously.

"It moved by itself!"

"Aye, just as you move by yourself." The former captain commented dryly, ruffling his daughter's hair and utterly destroying the complex tangle of braids her mother had labored over. "You two lubbers have seen Warforged before, or have you forgotten?"

"Testin doesn't look like that!" His son protested. "Testin has a face!"

"You know how your hair is different from mine, pup? And how your sister's nose is less prodigious than this beak I sport? Warforged have such varied traits as well."

The head on the thing looked like an old Thanatonaut relic, just a smooth dome. It also bore archaic equipment for off-Flow navigation on the inside of its arms. Brand heaved out a sigh, smoothing a finger over his brown mustache in a meditative manner.

"Well, we can't just leave 'em out here. Ceere, have your mother ring Testin. And you, Kamer, are going to help me settle this poor rattler into one of our chairs out here." Brand rolled his eyes at how pale his son went, while Ceere stuck her tongue out at him. "Oi, chit, stop taunting your brother. Now shoo, and make sure your mother knows to tell Testin that it's important!"

×+×

Brand Gentle had made his fortune in his younger years as the eventual captain on a deep-space excavation platform. He had seen many odd things in his day, unearthed strange and unusual artifacts from times long gone by. Thanatonaut helms that predated mankind's fumbling into Flow travel, monoliths to terrible and forgotten powers; the refuse of man's advance into the stars.

Yet he had never seen anything quite like this. A Warforged birthed of a meteor, trimmed in battered red and gold like the veils of the Vespertine Order.

The former captain sat on his patio across from the mysterious Warforged, finally leaning forward in his chair after he collected his thoughts. "What is your name?" He asked quietly.

The thing ticked and whirred, and a hoarse voice answered, "I have no designation." A female voice.

Brand sighed heavily. He should have known it wouldn't be so straightforward. Beside him, Testin Awe cleared his throat. "Think back. Can you remember what happened before you woke in the Gentle's prize rose garden?" The hulking Warforged's tone was dry, blue eyes darting to Brand when he touched upon the sensitive subject. Brand was exceedingly protective of his roses.

More ticking. "Darkness." An odd shimmy of mechanics long unused as she tipped her head to the side. "I fell."

"I bet you did." Testin replied, then muttered under his breath, "Captain, she's battier than the Bakhroma Green."

Brand waved him off, giving the faceless Warforged across from him a tight smile. She cocked her head to the side again, and he got the unsettling feeling that he was being studied.

"I hurt your flowers. How can I fix them?" She queried.

Brand blinked. Testin, despite lacking an actual throat, seemed quite intent on clearing it today.

×+×

Calling her Perdita seemed to be a given. She was lost, constantly, wandering the grounds of the Gentle estate at all hours of the night and day. She had no physical needs, as was the custom of her race, so Brand saw no harm in her roving. She certainly didn't seem malicious, just curious in a blunt way.

Libertia, Brand's wife, took an odd shine to the spacey automaton. The former captain often found the woman chatting to her, trying to help her expand her ability for speech. Perdita was minimalist in her words, though she did eventually begin to speak more as the years passed.

Testin thought Perdita was a bit touched. "Still a little battle-rattle in that one." He had remarked privately to Brand, his craggy face oddly sympathetic for a Warforged. "Hard to shake sometimes."

Brand knew better than most folk that Warforged were more than adequate matches for their fleshy counterparts, and he took everything his old first mate told him as gospel. Testin was in agreement with Brand that the red and gold Warforged was decidedly not a threat.

"She just likes the flowers?" Testin asked suddenly one evening as he and Brand sat on the terrace. Brand nodded lazily, the smoke from his cheroot cigar twirling and arching through the air. "I don't get it, but...well, I guess you did have a penchant for gathering up the misfits." The gray-green Warforged allowed, his sidelong grin making Brand chuckle. "She's happy here, y'know. She mentioned it to me earlier. She thinks she's helping when you let her trim the bushes." His laughter was a rusty noise.

"She loves talking with Lib. Er, with may not be the right term. My wife could talk the legs off a table." Brand smiled fondly and Testin rolled those glowing blue eyes.

"Have you heard from Kamer at all?" The large Warforged changed the subject, frowning when the former captain sighed and shook his head.

"I'm not sure I should have sent him away for his schooling. What with the Empire gaining ground steadily, I'm uncertain how long the boarding schools will be safe."

"Hey, Kamer's smart. You know that. That kid won't get himself tangled up in anything. Besides, what the hell would the Empire want with a kid who's sole aspiration is to be an architect?" Testin tilted his head. "Now, Ceere-"

"Don't remind me, she's apprenticed to the Facturers now. Hopefully, by the grace of the gods, she'll put her tinkering tendencies to good use and stop destroying my beautiful skiffs." Brand groaned, putting his head in his hands.

"I mean, she's got great potential. Engine ripped itself apart in three different places."

"I'm well aware, you mechanical menace. It was my favorite Screamer class!"

×+×

Libertia was the one to suggest that Perdita consider taking up the habit of the Vespertine Order.

"You seem at peace whenever you come with me to chapel, Perdie." She commented one afternoon over tea. Brand raised an eyebrow at his wife, then glanced at the featureless automaton across the way. "Have you ever thought about joining the convent?" Libertia queried.

Perdita hummed thoughtfully. "I like the chapel. It's quiet. Makes me feel like I can stop moving." She offered a shrug. "I know I'm not...quiet." She was a much older model than Testin and her body tended to rattle or squeak at odd intervals.

"You don't feel like you can be still here?" Brand asked curiously.

"I am restless." The Warforged admitted quietly. "Some things help. The garden. The chapel."

Brand grunted, settling back in his chair and lapsing into thought. The Vespertine sisters were a formidable bunch, for all that they resided on this backwater planetoid. They seemed to have their proverbial fingers in a multitude of pies. He wasn't sure if he trusted them with his Perdie.

His mustache quirked up in a wry grin, realizing that he was thinking of the Warforged like she was one of his own children. "Do what you think is best, Perdie. Perhaps the quiet will help you sort yourself out. Gods know we tithe enough to the church, maybe in exchange for our continued generosity they'll accept someone a little less fleshy than their usual ranks."

He got the faintest impression that Perdita was beaming at him, her whole body haloed with a strange golden light. But Brand blinked and the light was gone. He shook his head at himself, vowing not to spike his afternoon tea so strongly next time.

×+×

When the Empire came to the planet years later, they struck without warning.

Evening prayer had just finished, the last fleeting rays of sunlight peering through the simple leaded glass windows of the chapel. Perdita sat docile in the pew, her head bowed beneath her veil.

"It makes me glad to know that you've found some sort of peace and purpose." Brand commented, the now-elderly man ambling up alongside her. "Never put much faith in this church business, myself. Give me the Flow and a nimble craft and I'm a content man."

"Captain." She inclined her head. She had heard his sentiment many times before.

"I'm surprised you haven't gone out to chart the world, my dear. Your cartographer's gear will get rusty!" The former captain teased, settling down into the pew and patting her arm. "Surely, the Vespertine sisters ought to be spread?"

"It is dangerous." Perdita sighed. "I am trying. The Ferrarium Empire-"

"Bah, belay that codswallop here." Brand groused. "Bunch of nobles in stuffed shirts with too many guns and not enough good sense. Stole my good boy away and turned him into a simpering buffoon." He bowed his head, touching his thumb to his left cheek and then his sternum. "Thank the gods his mother passed on before he made that terrible choice."

An odd whistling caught his attention, and Brand cocked his head. His hearing had been shot for years, maybe he was imagining the sound-

The windows abruptly exploded inwards as an impact rocked the ground. Sisters scurried this way and that in panic, their veils fluttering like butterfly wings as they ushered the last few stragglers out of the structure. Brand, his ears still ringing from the first bombardment, felt a second one strike outside. Perdita was stiff, unmoving in the pew, so he seized her hand and made haste for the doorway.

"Perdie, we cannot linger in this place!" He tried to snap her out of it, her deceptively-heavy form slowing their flight. "It's the Empire, Perdie, we have to--" Through the haze of dust rising, the former captain caught sight of a massive dreadnought's keel flying low overhead. Rage burned at his soul; why would they come here of all places? This was a planet of agriculture, not manufacturing!

Perdita tilted her head, and Brand knew that she must have noticed the ship. "What is that?" She asked, her voice ticking up slightly in query.

"That is something that should not have turned its eye upon us!" Brand snapped. "Why the devil would they-" There was shouting up ahead, and scattered pistol fire. "Martyr's malfeasance," the elderly man swore, "I ought to have known."

The Inquisitors had arrived, bearing overpowered arms and causing chaos as was their want. Brand managed to slip around the edge of the advancing line, searching the crowds for Testin's large form. His old first mate was nowhere to be seen and Brand's heart sank.

An Inquisitor loomed up out of the smoke in front of them, halting the former captain in his tracks. "Identify yourself, civilian." The armored man droned.

"Or what? You've already blown the chapel and convent to pieces!" Brand spat. "What could the Ferrarium Empire possibly want from a sleepy little colony planet?"

The Inquisitor's baton met the side of the elderly man's head with a dull thud, felling him with ease.

×+×

Brand started awake, hacking and wheezing as he inhaled ash. He sat up, ignoring the throbbing of his head. Where is-

"Perdita!" He yelled, struggling to his feet and cupping his hands around his mouth. "Perdie, where are you?"

The cobblestones underfoot had been broken and scattered by the mortaring, making the footing uncertain. The former captain stumbled forward over the rubble, continuing to call for the Warforged.

A shimmer of red and gold flickered through the hellish smoke up ahead, and he fancied it might be her habit. His suspicions proved correct as her frail form solidified out of the clouds of billowing dust and ash.

"Perdita!" Brand exclaimed gladly.

She turned slowly at the sound of his voice, that damned veil still flapping fitfully in the turbulent air. Beneath the gauzy shroud where her domed head was, the former captain saw something blaze to life. Eyes, hundreds of them, glowing through the fabric. Brand stopped in his tracks, uncertain of what he was seeing. That blow to the head must have rattled him, now he was hallucinating!

Her hand pressed to her chest over the long habit. "I am the bastion." Perdita said calmly, as though they weren't being bombarded by low-flying aircraft. "I am Vespertine, I am Alizarin, I am reborn. My name is Aurelezra, and I fell to defend."

A shell plummeted from the sky and with a single motion, she obliterated it. One moment it was there, the next, she simply pointed at it and a shimmering golden manifestation that resembled an enormous rose blossom appeared directly in its path. The shell struck it, the impact sending foiled shrapnel flitting listlessly to the ground.

Brand was wholly bewildered. The only other time he had witnessed such power was when-

The thousands of eyes swiveled to stare at him, blinking rapidly. Brand swallowed hard. "What did those blasted nuns do to you, Perdie?" He asked, his voice so low he wasn't sure if she would hear it over the pandemonium.

Perdita tipped her head to the side, those eyes writhing and teeming nauseatingly over one another, flickering through the habit in a way that made Brand exceedingly glad she was wearing it. "I am the bastion." She repeated. She sounded hideously serene. "I am Alizarin."

Rifle reports barked through the air and Perdita turned towards the noise, setting off over the debris with sure steps. "Wait, Perdie!" Brand protested, fumbling after her as best as he could. "Perdie, are you mad? These are Inquisitors, you can't just..." He trailed off as he watched her simply walk through the line of gunfire. "Or perhaps you can." He muttered.

A strange golden haze shone around her body and every time a bullet struck the haze, a malevolent eye roiled to the surface to fix the attacker with a blazing stare. More shells rained down and each one was foiled or thrown off-target by shimmering, sunset-hued roses, blossoming riotously to life in midair like some grand fireworks display at a midsummer fair.

"Captain!" That was Testin's voice, thank gods. The elderly man turned this way and that, breathing a sigh of relief when he finally spotted the towering mass that was Testin.

"Testin my boy, you're a sight for sore eyes!" Brand said with a wry grin, taking in the small cluster of nuns that were teeming anxiously in the shadow of the massive automaton. Among them was the Mother Superior, her black veil a stark contrast to the usual red. "You've got some explaining to do, woman! What the hell have you done to my Perdie?" Brand thundered, itching to shake her until her teeth rattled.

"Sister Perdita has spent many, many hours reading the scriptures and studying our texts, Captain Gentle." The woman replied, almost infuriatingly calm. "She was brought to this planet for a specific reason."

"What are you on about? Look at her! It's like she's possessed!" The elderly man shouted.

"She has become more, Captain. A vessel for something that we mere mortals have only glimpsed. Alizarin, the Red Saint."

"There's a thousand blasted eyes all over her and she's sending out starbursts of roses that intercept cannon fire!" Brand roared. "I'll only ask once more, what have you done to her?"

"She willingly accepted this power, Captain. I suggest you calm yourself. I know you do not believe or trust in the power of the Red Saint, but Sister Perdita does." The matron retorted haughtily. "And when Libertia was alive-"

"Keep my wife's name out of your mouth." Brand snarled, his hand instinctively twitching down towards his hip for the piece he had carried in his younger years.

"Easy now, Cap." Testin intoned, raising a hand. "Easy."

"You planned this from the start." Brand accused the woman, a sick sense of realization blossoming in his gut. "You put the idea in Libertia's head, didn't you? Why Perdie?"

"Warforged make excellent vessels." The Mother Superior said simply.

Testin rumbled in threat overhead, one large hand settling heavily on the woman's shoulder. "I suggest you choose your next words very carefully." The Warforged paladin's tone was one of extreme irritation. "Unless you'd like to find out how bad of a vessel I can be."

"She has become a warlock of exceptional power." The woman hurriedly continued. "The Red Saint is pleased with our offering, and he will-"

"The Red Saint, aye? Unwilling martyr himself." Brand scoffed. "You've gone and turned my girl into a nightmare for the glory of that flayed demagogue."

"A nightmare that can go toe-to-toe with Inquisitor gunsmithing." The Mother Superior shot back smugly. "You knew as well as I did that it was only a matter of time before the Ferrarium Empire turned their gaze to the Fringes. Their grasping for resources is ceaseless."

"As interesting as your bickering is, we're wasting time." Testin growled, gesturing vaguely forwards. "She's gaining on their dreadnought. We following her?"

×+×

Everything was so loud.

"It is time, Aurelezra." His voice was like smoke, like whispers. He drew her attention upwards to the ship, He guided her hands as she wove the spell and He found her the suitable target. "They will not take this planet. They will never take again."

Perdita nodded shakily, power dripping and sparking from her fingers. "Never again."

"You have done well, Aurelezra. You easily outstrip the mortals." He praised as she raised her hands. "I shall do such wonders through you."

×+×

Without warning, a bolt of red light shot from Perdita's hands and arced up at the command ship. Testin swore loudly, the Warforged's face twisting into an approximation of a grimace. "Oh, that's not good." He said hoarsely, leaving the cluster of nuns behind as he moved forward.

"What, what's happened?" Brand asked frantically, trying to keep up.

"That was something that uh, I wouldn't have used. A little too spicy for me." The Warforged grunted, readying the hand cannon integrated in his left forearm. His heavy, elephantine feet easily crushed the rubble beneath him, clearing the way for the former captain. "If everyone on that ship isn't dead after that spell hits..."

"What?" Brand gasped.

Testin shook his head mournfully, not finishing that trail of thought. "We need to figure out where the ship will go down. Figure out whether we can break it apart ahead of time or whether your Perdie has a few more Red Saint tricks up that veil." Testin's sigh was heavy. "I'm sorry, Captain."

The command ship began rapidly losing altitude, listing slightly to the right. Perdita pursued it doggedly and Brand watched her raise her hands again. "Perdie!" He shouted, heartened when she paused. "Stop, Perdie!"

"Stay put!" Testin yelled, then said, "Cap, either get onboard or get left behind, we don't have time for your old bones."

Brand growled something uncharitable about his former first mate, then swung up onto the pro-offered arm.

Testin sprinted forward, easily catching up to the waifish Perdita and grabbing her around the waist with one massive hand. "I'd like to shake the marbles clean out of your chest right now, but we don't have time for me to be pissed off at you." Testin snarled at her, still at his full sprint. "You got anything else in that arsenal of yours, or are you gonna' let that ship crush someone's farm?"

"I can do it."

"What, exactly?"

Perdita pointed upwards at the ship and simply said, "shatter." A massive golden rose exploded into being on the keel, blowing a hole in the hull the size of the town square. Splinters and beams rained down, Testin barely managing to dodge a few of the larger chunks.

"Martyr's malfeasance, you're a menace!" The larger Warforged said in disbelief, the cannon in his left arm whirring to life as the ship sank within his range. "I mean, keep it up, but saint's blood you are an absolute terror." His cannon glowed, shoulder tight when he fired and sent the projectile rocketing upwards to erupt in a radiant blast. "Not fancy, but any port in a storm." He huffed, trying to chamber another round without releasing Perdita.

"There's so much." Perdita was shaking in Testin's grip. Molten gold trailed from her fingertips and every eye that shone through the veil was wide open.

Brand clambered across Testin's shoulders, the elderly man reaching out so he could grab one of her hands. "Listen to me, Perdie." He said loudly, trying to make sure she could hear him over the rapidly-approaching creak of timbers and warning system alarms. "You've got some kind of hellfiring power now, right?"

Perdita nodded slowly. "He's so loud." She breathed, and Brand knew with crushing certainty that she wasn't talking about himself or Testin.

"Aye, I'm sure he is. But if he wants to have you as his vessel, he needs to understand that you're the captain." Brand reasoned fiercely. "You bite back at that freeloader and you tell him you're the damned captain, you hear me girl?!"

×+×

I'm the captain.

Perdita clung to the thought, staggering through the red haze of her subconscious.

I'm the captain.

Alizarin nodded in acquiescence. "That you are, Aurelezra. For now. For this moment. What will you do?" He chuckled. "You are unfamiliar with such power. You have already overdrawn yourself. What will you do, Defender?"

It doesn't matter whether I'm tired. I'm the captain. Me. Not you, she thought stubbornly.

×+×

Perdita clawed her way up Testin's arm to his shoulder, the larger Warforged rumbling in confusion. "What the hell are you doing now?"

"I'm the captain." Perdita said sharply. Blast after golden blast was flung by her hand, the ship groaning under the assault. Timbers cracked and creaked like the ship was caught in a ferocious gale. "I'm the captain!" She yelled, "I'm the captain!"

The dreadnought rent itself apart at the scuppers with one final impact, briefly looking like the massive ribcage of some eldritch horror. The engines tore free of their mooring, the shriek of metal heralding doom for the trio as they plummeted downwards. Testin tried to backpedal, but he had built up such a head of steam and the engines were so enormous-

Brand fumbled to catch Perdita's hand once again, closing his eyes as he heard Testin grit out what he assumed was his final swear.

Looks like I'll be home soon, Lib.

"A Bastion for my faithful." That was not Perdita's voice. It was barely a whisper, smooth as silk and light as a favorable breeze. "Blessed are you, Brand Gentle, for you have seen my power once before. Blessed are you, Brand Gentle, for you have survived my power once before. Blessed shall you be, Brand Gentle, though you do not believe."

A golden dome sheathed the triumvirate of individuals, millions of eyes scattered across it opening and closing at random. Brand gripped Perdita's hand as tightly as he dared, uncertain if he was the only one seeing this...wonder.

"Fear not, Brand Gentle. She will not be harmed."

The dome vanished and Testin fairly seethed with curses, the gray-green Warforged reeling back a step from the flaming wreckage of the engine that surrounded them. A neat circle had been sheared out from the dome, the edges still molten and smoking.

"That's it. Whatever's gotten into you, I'm tearing it out of you!" the paladin announced, grappling Perdita around the waist again. "Send that cosmic bastard back to the Deep Reef where it belongs, I-" He paused when she went limp in his hold, lowering his glowing right hand after a moment. "Uh...Perdie?" He asked warily, shaking her until she rattled. "Perdie?"

"I'm the captain." She responded, her voice reedy with exhaustion. Perdita reached out to Brand, and he carefully laced his fingers through her own. "I-I'm the...captain..."

"Aye child," Brand murmured, "that you are."

×+×

The whole colony banded together to scuttle the dreadnought's bones. The Vespertine sisters made themselves marvellously useful when it came to putting the dead to rest.

Most of the ship's crew had been slaughtered by whatever Perdita had done with that spell, and the few left alive had perished on impact.

Testin had grunted in satisfaction as he surveyed the red veiled sisters scurrying to and fro in the wreckage. "I think your Perdie just fired the galaxy's largest warning shot."

"Aye." Brand had agreed wearily. "Now all that's left to see is whether the Empire will take notice."

"Their dreadnoughts aren't usually...destroyed, Captain. Once word gets back to them, all hell's going to break loose." The Warforged predicted grimly, his arms folded over his chest. "You'd better make sure she clears atmosphere before they come back around."

"I don't think I could make her stay!" The former captain chuckled. "She's always been on the move, Testin. High time she did something with all that energy."

×+×

"The Gotengo has been moored for years, Captain. You think it can still hold up?" Testin mused, poring over the old schematics.

Brand sighed, raking a hand through his hair. "It's the finest craft I have at my disposal, dusty or not. And she'll need something nimble if she's planning on trekking out there through the blockades." He meandered to the window of his study, staring down at his rose garden without actually seeing it. "I've already gotten in touch with Squire Deering, and he claims he's found a slew of candidates for her crew."

Testin snorted in disbelief. "And you trust that penny-pinching miser? Guy probably trawled through three different wharfside taverns and asked for able-bodied seamen."

"Deering may be a...bit tight fisted, but he's a good man. I have great faith that when Perdita arrives, she'll be shown nothing but courtesy." Brand assured the gray-green Warforged, stroking his mustache.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but I distinctly remember that waistcoat-wearing ponce saddling you with a ship that had a rotted out mainmast." Testin deadpanned. "What did he blame it on? Moths?"

Brand coughed awkwardly, clearing his throat. "Regardless, he will treat her right. Warforged or not, she's the captain."

"A new Captain Gentle." Testin shook his head ruefully. "Never thought I'd see the day. Bodes pretty shit for the Empire, if you ask me."

"All I hope is that she and that blooded saint first mate of hers give them hell."

#perdita gentle #captain perdita gentle #dungeons and dragons 5e #dnd writing #dnd 5e character #dnd warforged #dnd warlock #celestial warlock #dnd npc #dnd backstory #warlock backstory #dnd character #dungeons and dragons #she's been retired but I love her #my lil captain #pact of the bastion #warlock pact

0 notes

clubsheartsspades · 4 years ago

Text

Royal Flush Challenge

Week 2/King - Backstories

I know, I know, this is a little late, but I thought we could still take a look at one of Devi’s best friends and one of my favourite background characters - Glym! Have a small... it’s not quite a scene, but some fun short story about how they met:

Ten years ago, Glym came to Tasa’s shop with his older brother Liveriu, as he had just received his confirmation for his admission to the Stone Library (a great honour, it took most an average of fifty years to work their way through the basics of the entrance exams alone, Glym had made it in twenty, making him the youngest apprentice magician ever).

“You can choose what you want,” Liveriu said. Of course, he meant the many beautiful wind chimes or brightlights, the singing music boxes and shimmering watches and beautiful grandfather clocks. He even pointed to a shelf with fragile metal figurines. What Glym chose was a cardboard box half full of various small parts that could not be sold individually. In the back of the store, boxes like this were carefully lined up against the wall. They were usually bought by people who wanted to make something out of them or were just looking for lots of otherwise nonsensical small parts.

Depending on which of them, either Devi or his aunt, wrote the labels and lists for the boxes, they ran under names like “scraps of cloth (different colours), linen and wool mixed” or “small metal parts (screws, gears, nuts, etc.)” when Tasa labelled them. The box Glym chose had the lable “some glue can fix this”, which was Devi's way of saying “shards of clay and glass”.

“Are you sure you want this?” Liveriu asked. The desperation in his eyes so prominent Tasa bit her lower lip so as not to laugh. But she had already seen the box and its label. Devi, who was in charge of the box that afternoon, looked up from his book, but Tasa strategically placed herself in Devi's line of sight so that he couldn't see the writing.

“Can I help you?”

And just like that Devi turned back to his book. Tasa loved him, he was her favourite nephew (even though he lived with her). A fact she would never mention to her oldest brother and his children. But that didn't mean she liked to leave the customers alone with him. He had an alarming skill to sell someone a few more things that they didn't need, and all he needed were two words and a smile. Most of them couldn't remember that it had been the nice cashier who told them they really needed this wonderfully and absolutely ugly (and certainly overpriced) metal construction as a decoration in their lives. He had always been good at convincing people.

“This box,” Glym said proudly, “is exactly what I was looking for.” Said box was open for her to see that the broken clay and glass had been rummaged through.

“Wonderful! And how much is the box worth to you?”

Of course she knew Liveriu would pay – she had heard the short conversation between them when they came into the store – but Liveriu seemed too busy trying to keep Glym from buying the box.

“But...”, he stammered, “but here... there's so... much...? Whole glass? Not broken glass?”

Glym looked her straight in the eye and, quite seriously, he said: “Everything.”

Behind Tasa, Devi laughed at this seriousness. Of course he listened in, she never knew what he heard and what he didn't. He said the world was differently loud depending on how much he wanted it to be, but she didn't understand that at all.

“Who's there?”, Glym asked, glancing past Tasa. Devi was still sitting on the counter, too small for the chair behind it, half bent over a book, his tail dangling from the edge. Lazily it swung back and forth.

Glym’s eyes grew twice as big. He pressed his boy into his brother’s arms and nearly jumped towards Devi.

“You are a flight dragon!”

“Occasionally.” He wasn’t wearing his courier uniform, instead he sat there in old, washed-out pants and a simple shirt.

“How high can you fly before you run out of air?”

“Before I what? I breathe while flying.”

“But the higher you fly, the thinner the air becomes!”

Devi sat there for a moment without answering. He had never thought about it that way before.

“I need to know,” Glym said. He didn't take to silence well. “I will,” he cleared his throat, “I am an inventor. As a magician, I will invent something that will allow people to fly, even if they don't have wings.”

Meanwhile, Liveriu regained his composure and Tasa did not hear the rest of the conversation between Devi and Glym. In the end, Liveriu bought his little brother the box together with a new, very high quality notebook and did not pay “everything” for it, but three spice bags a dwarven friend of his had gifted him, but that were much too spicy for him. He brought them specifically for Glym’s present.

The next day Glym came back to the shop, asked Devi to show him some flying techniques and took notes in his new notebook. The day after that, he showed Devi some drawings. The day after, he bought another box, this time with pieces of copper wire, nails (a few of them bent and broken) and a few dented and less dented pieces of metal. It was labelled “caft kit but without instructions”. Devi sold it to him with the words: “Next time you'll find something with instructions, I’m sure.”.

The day after that, Glym showed him a construct made of wires, metal pieces, and stuck together shards of clay and glass. Together, it could look somewhat like wings, if you closed one eye and stood far enough away. He asked Devi to help him test it. That afternoon the very first explosion echoed, and Devi came back with burn holes in his shirt and black charred hair tips.

“Next time,” he said, “I'll really give him instructions.” So he did and labelled the box as “crafting kit, this time with instructions”. Glym made a mobile out of it following Devi’s instructions. It exploded when Glym showed it to him outside the store.

The next three boxes Glym bought and used for his inventions were labelled “Pillows, but without fabric” (feathers in different colours), “craft kit for necklaces” (broken off can handles and colourful yarn) and “Paper, misprinted on one side”. All his inventions exploded.

After a few more weeks Devi wrote boxes like “pretty sure this one won’t explode” and “you could try to build in a fire extinguisher”. Glym managed to build something from each one – and all his inventions exploded. Eventually.

#royal flush challenge #the sound of glass #my writing #I really really really love Glym #funky little light elf

6 notes · View notes

pinktwingirl · 4 years ago

Text

I rewrote Endgame (AKA Endgame but with Squirrel Girl and Loki)

Hey everyone, so since I think we can all agree Endgame could have used more Loki (and more Stucky!), I wrote some scenes that I think should have been added in. I included Doreen Green (aka Squirrel Girl) because she’s an amazing character and I would love to see her in the MCU! Also, in the comics, she’s a really good friend of Loki’s (and I think we can all agree MCU Loki could use a friend.) For a bit of context, I have a headcanon that the girls Thor got a picture with in Ragnarok were Doreen and her best friend/roommate Nancy, and Doreen was actually plotting to get close to Loki so her pet squirrel Tippy-Toe could plant a tracking device on him and make sure he didn’t get into any trouble while he was on Earth. Some of the scenes during the final battle are meant to be interspersed throughout the sequence, and aren’t really in any particular order. They’re just events that I thought would be cool if they actually happened. Since Endgame didn’t have a post-credits scene, I also added one for good measure! :)

(Also, I didn’t write a scene for it, but let’s just all agree that Steve and Bucky get married and retire to raise goats in Wakanda!)

INT. AVENGERS COMPOUND - DAY

Natasha, Bruce, Steve, Scott, and Rhodey are in a meeting room. Natasha paces back and forth.

NATASHA

We still have a lot we need to get done before we try anything else. Rhodey, have those robbers on 22nd street been identified?

RHODEY

Yeah, just a couple of cheap scumbags. I'm sure the cops can handle them.

NATASHA

Okay... And the subway hijackers?

STEVE

Nat, calm down. Okoye's got it covered.

NATASHA

Well, there's still that attack on Times Square. I don't know about you guys, but I'm not about to let some asshole terrorists try to blackmail the entire district into giving them money or whatever the hell they want-

Bruce flips on a monitor that projects an image on the wall.

BRUCE

Actually... it looks like someone got there before you.

Everyone turns to look at the screen. Natasha and Steve give each other an impressed and amused look, while Rhodey and Scott look at each other in confusion. On the screen, we see a group of men in black armor knocked unconscious and tied together. Next to them is a sign that reads "We got our butts kicked by the Unbeatable Squirrel Girl!!! :)"

EXT. NEW YORK CITY STREETS - DAY

We see a pair of boots walking down the street. Behind them trails a gray squirrel with a pink ribbon tied around her neck. The squirrel hops onto the shoulder of her companion, Doreen, who gives her a smile. We cut to her crouching in an abandoned building and typing on a computer screen, which shows surveillance footage of robbers sneaking around. We see the robbers loading their guns and tying up hostages in an alleyway. One of the robbers suddenly notices that his partner is staring at something. He pushes his partner on the shoulder.

ROBBER

Hey, what-

The robbers turn to see what the man is staring at. In the corner are a group of squirrels poised to strike. They slowly turn around and see Squirrel Girl, dressed in full gear and high-tech goggles standing with her arms folded. She smirks.

We then cut to Squirrel Girl attacking the robbers. Despite her small stature, she easily overpowers them. One of the men points a rifle at her, but she grabs it and points it upwards as it fires and kicks him aside. Another man throws a knife at her, but she grabs it with her tail and tosses it away. She then unleashes her knuckle spikes to cut through the mans armor.

We then cut to Doreen untying the victims, with the robbers knocked out beside them. She takes a purse out of one of the robbers' hands and hands it to one of the hostages.

DOREEN

Here ya go!

She walks off with her squirrel army as the hostages look on in awe.

INT. PUBLIC RESTROOM - DAY

Doreen steps out of a stall, where she has changed into a waitress's outfit. She stuffs her gear and clothing into a bag and tidies herself up a little in the mirror. Just as she's about to leave, she notices her tail is sticking out of her dress a little, so she tucks it in.

INT. SUBWAY STATION - DAY

Doreen is waiting for a train. She looks around solemnly. There is hardly anyone at the station even though it's midday. Sighing, pulls her purse strap tighter on her shoulder.

INT. DINER - DAY

Doreen rushes through the diner kitchen where her boss is waiting for her.

DOREEN

Hey.

BOSS

Hey, right on time. How you doin', kid?

DOREEN

Oh, I'm fine. Still no luck on the roommate search, though.

BOSS

Oh, that's a bummer.

DOREEN

How's the dining room looking? Did we make it to half-capacity this time?

BOSS

Eh, not exactly, but...

(He chuckles as he opens the door to the dining room.)

You've got a hell of a first customer.

Doreen's eyes widen when she sees Steve, wearing a baseball cap, sitting at a table by the window. He gives her a friendly wave.

We cut to Doreen sitting across from Steve at the table.

DOREEN

Can I just say, I... I am such a huge fan! Like, even before you came out of the ice, I literally had posters of you all over my wall!

(Beat)

Oh, wait, that's creepy, isn't it?

Steve shrugs.

STEVE

Kinda.

DOREEN

Anyway, I... I never thought you guys would find me. I-I mean, I hoped you would, 'cause you guys are awesome and all, but I just didn't think it would be this soon and... okay, I'll shut up now.

STEVE

So, how exactly does one get squirrel powers, anyway?

DOREEN

Honestly? I have no idea. I was born like this. My DNA is just... different. The doctors told my parents they have a name for people like me. They call us mutants.

STEVE

Mutants? So there are more people with altered DNA?

DOREEN

Supposedly. I mean, I've never met one before.

STEVE

They could be hiding it. You do.

DOREEN

That's true. My parents always told me I had to keep my mutation hidden. They didn't want people to be afraid of me. I didn't want to feel different but... I was always afraid to get close to people.

STEVE

So no one else knows?

DOREEN

My best friend Nancy did, but she... you know... the snap.

STEVE

How many did you lose?

(Beat)

DOREEN

Everyone. My parents. My family. Nancy. Even Mr. Lieberman...

STEVE

Who's Mr. Lieberman?

DOREEN

My pet squirrel.

STEVE

Oh.

DOREEN

But after Thanos, when things started getting bad... I don't know. I couldn't just sit back and do nothing, you know?

(Beat)

Why did you come looking for me?

Steve takes a deep breath.

STEVE

We think we may have found a way to bring them back.

DOREEN

All of them?

STEVE

There's no guarantees, but... we have to at least give this a shot. There's a lot we'll have to fill you in on, though.

(Beat)

DOREEN

I'm not sure how much help I can be. I mean, I doubt most people would be proud to say they were saved by a giant squirrel.

STEVE

I think, when it comes down to it, most people in trouble would be grateful to have anyone.

Doreen smiles and shrugs.

STEVE

Look, I don't know what your folks told you about your abilities. I'm sure they were just trying to protect you. But what you can do? That's a gift. And it's nothing to be ashamed of. And with this plan we have... well, we're gonna need all the help we can get. So, what do you say? Are you in?

Doreen pauses for a moment, then smiles.

DOREEN

Okay.

Steve grins. Suddenly, the boss enters the dining room again.

BOSS

Hey, Doreen, I'm not paying you to fangirl!

DOREEN

Uh, I... sorry...

(She abruptly stands up and takes out her notepad.)

Um... Can I... get you anything?

STEVE

You know, my buddy and I used to eat at this diner when we were kids. I was surprised it's still open.

DOREEN

Really?

STEVE

Yeah. Do you guys still have the best burgers in New York?

DOREEN

I'll let you be the judge of that.

She gives him a wink and heads into the kitchen.

INT. AVENGERS COMPOUND - DAY

Steve leads Tony into the compound, where Doreen is working on a holographic screen.

STEVE

Tony, meet Ms. Doreen Green. Mutant and computer science student at Empire State University.

DOREEN

Uh, former student, actually. I kind of left after the whole world... went to shit.

(She shakes Tony's hand.)

Hi, it's such an honor to meet you! I hope you don't mind, some of your computers systems were a bit outdated so I took the liberty of fixing them for you. Also, I recalibrated the data retrieval and processing systems, so those should be up to speed now.

TONY

(to Steve)

I thought you said she just talked to squirrels.

INT. AVENGERS COMPOUND - DAY

Doreen is showing the photo of her and Nancy with Thor on her phone to Thor.

THOR

Yes, I... I do remember this photo, Lady Doreen. I'm very sorry about your friend.

DOREEN

Well, that's why we're here, isn't it? I really hope Nancy can meet you again when this is all over. She's a huge fan! She named her cat "Mewnir" after your old hammer and even wrote these fan-fiction comics where you were a cat! It was called "Cat Thor"!

Thor raises an eyebrow and smiles.

SCOTT (O.S.)

Thor, clean up your beer cans! This place reeks!

Thor rolls his eyes and leaves. Doreen catches Tony walking around and rushes up to him.

DOREEN

Hey, Tony, could I ask you something?

TONY

You already did.

Doreen rolls her eyes.

DOREEN

I was thinking of bringing your Binarily Augmented Retro-Framing device with us when we go to 2012 New York.

TONY

You mean BARF?

DOREEN

You seriously need to get a better name for that.

TONY

Eh, it sticks in the head better. Why do you want to bring it?

DOREEN

I was thinking of using it on Loki. I didn't want to bring it up in front of Thor, since I figured it's kind of a sore subject for him, but if his brother knows anything about the infinity stones, it could tell us how to use them-

TONY

Absolutely not.

DOREEN

What? Why? Come on, Loki was sent by Thanos to come here, he must know something that could help us!

TONY

Our job is to get the stones and get out. That's it. We're not taking unnecessary risks by messing with people in the past.

DOREEN

I can handle it! Just give me the device! I'll be in and out like that!

TONY

I'm sorry, kid, my answer is no.

(Beat)

Doreen sighs.

DOREEN

Fine.

(She holds up her pet squirrel, Tippy-Toe.)

But can we at least make a time travel suit for Tippy?

INT. 2012 STARK TOWER - DAY

Doreen is snooping around the tower while the Avengers keep an eye on their past selves. She notices Hydra agents disguised as SHIELD agents walking around.

SCOTT (O.S.)

How did you not know those guys were Hydra? I mean, they just look evil!

DOREEN

Wait, those guys are Nazis? Can I punch them?!

TONY (O.S.)

No! Stay focused!

Suddenly, a robotic voice is heard from inside Doreen's utility belt.

VOICE

Binarily augmented retro-framing system activated.

DOREEN

Oh shit.

She frantically reaches in her pocket to try and shut it off.

SCOTT (O.S.)

What was that?

DOREEN

Uh, nothing.

BRUCE (O.S.)

That sounded like your BARF-tech, Tony.

TONY (O.S.)

Uh, I'm sorry, did you steal my BARF-tech?

DOREEN

No, I borrowed it.

STEVE (O.S.)

I'm pretty sure "borrowing" implies that you asked.

DOREEN

I'm gonna give it back!

TONY (O.S.)

You better. You break it, you bought it, fuzzy.

INT. 2012 STARK TOWER - DAY

Loki collapses to the ground from the impact of the Hulk's rampage. Doreen rushes to the scene and freezes when she sees the tesseract lying near him.

DOREEN

Oh no...

She dives on the ground to grab it at the same time as Loki. They look up and face each other, mystified when they realized they are both holding onto the tesseract. With a flash of blue, they disappear together.

EXT. DESERTED PLANET - NIGHT

Doreen slowly opens her eyes, groaning in pain. She lifts herself up and takes in her surroundings. The ground appears to be covered in a deep violet soil and the night sky is pitch black. Aside from a few bare trees in the distance, the place seems empty. Doreen clutches her time device on her wrists and speaks into it.

DOREEN

Hello? Is anyone there? Tony? Steve? Can anyone hear me?

She waits a moment. There is silence on the other end.

DOREEN

Ugh, great.

Suddenly, we see Tippy-Toe in a small time-travel suit rushing towards her and jumping in her arms. Doreen gives her a few gentle strokes on the back.

DOREEN

Hey, buddy.

Tippy-Toe gives a few squeaks.

DOREEN

No, I have no idea where we are.

She stands up and looks around, freezing when she notices what appears to be a crater in the distance. She runs up to it and sees Loki lying in a large hole in the ground, with the tesseract beside him. His body is bleeding and covered in bruises.

DOREEN

Holy shit...

She rushes down the crater to Loki's body and checks him for a pulse.

DOREEN

He's still breathing...

(She takes a bandage out of her utility belt and tosses it to Tippy-Toe.)

Tippy, stop the bleeding while I get the machine set up.

Tippy-Toe squeaks in protest.

DOREEN

Because I said so, now help me out here a little!

Tippy-Toe begrudgingly takes the bandage in her mouth and begins bandaging Loki's head.

DOREEN

Thank you.

(She starts setting up Tony's device.)

Actually... It's a good thing he's unconscious. It'll make this a lot easier.

She turns to look at the tesseract lying on the ground and hesitantly picks it up.

DOREEN

Um... I'll just... take that.

She puts it in a pocket in her utility belt.

We cut to Doreen scrolling through a holographic screen. The device has been set up, with the necessary parts attached to Loki's head.

DOREEN

Here we go...

She presses a button and a flash of blue transforms the area into a spaceship dungeon. Behind her, Doreen hears someone gasping in pain. She turns around to see 2011 Loki being held up by what appears to be an electrical current. His face is pale and sweaty, and his eyes are sunken. Doreen slowly approaches him.

DOREEN

Loki...?

As if momentarily forgetting she is in a simulation, she starts to reach out to touch his face. Suddenly, we hear a door open behind her. Nebula, Gamora, and Thanos enter. Startled, Doreen backs away as they approach Loki.

GAMORA

We found him in the void. He was just floating listlessly.

THANOS

The fallen king of Asgard...

He presses a button on the wall that shuts off the electric current, causing Loki to collapse to the floor. He lets out a weak wail of pain. Thanos and his daughters step closer to him as he slowly lifts up his head to look at them.

LOKI

K-kill me... P-please...

Nebula clicks her knife open, unleashing a large blade.

NEBULA

Shall we oblige him, father?

THANOS

Wait.

(He lifts Loki up.)

Perhaps there is some merit in keeping him alive. He is a boy... Lost... afraid... But I sense ambition in him... A lust for power... He may serve us well if he sees what we can offer him in return.

LOKI

N-no... I... Th-there is nothing... you can offer me... Wh-whatever this is... I want no part of it.

After a pause, Thanos slowly unveils the mind stone scepter with magic in his hand. Wide-eyed, Doreen slowly starts to back away as she looks on.

THANOS

Then again... A little persuasion can't hurt from time to time...

He presses the scepter to Loki's head, causing the mind stone to glow. Loki screams in agony as its power overwhelms him. Doreen gasps and covers her mouth in horror. With a sinister grin, Thanos presses the scepter harder, causing Loki's screams to grow louder. Mortified, Doreen frantically slams the off button on the device, causing the simulation to disappear. As she takes deep breaths, trying to collect herself, we see Loki's body disappear in a flash of green, as the real Loki appears behind her, untouched and unscarred. He was never really injured.

LOKI

I don't know if anyone's ever told you this...

Doreen gasps and whirls around.

LOKI

...but it's quite rude to look into someone else's mind without their permission.

DOREEN

I... I-I'm sorry, I just thought maybe Thanos told you something about the stones-

LOKI

Unfortunately, he did not. Thanos only ever told me what he felt I needed to know.

Doreen slowly backs away as he stalks towards her.

LOKI

I know you have the tesseract in your possession.

Doreen's hand instinctively goes to the pocket in her utility belt.

LOKI

I'm afraid I can't let you leave with that.

As Tippy-Toe jumps on her shoulder, Doreen grabs her time device.

DOREEN

Sorry to disappoint you.

She tries pressing a button on the device to send her back to the present, but nothing happens. As she repeatedly tries pressing the button, she sees a shimmer of green surrounding the device. Suddenly, Loki strikes her from behind. They fight, with Doreen struggling to overpower him. A dagger emerges in Loki's hand and he stabs her shoulder. Doreen screams and grabs his hand before he can strike again. Before Loki's strength can overwhelm her, Doreen unleashes her knuckle spikes and cuts his face, making a gash on his cheek. Loki recoils and raises his hand to the cut in shock. Eyes wide, Doreen backs away and tries to run, but Loki knocks her onto the ground, sending the tesseract flying.

DOREEN

No!

Doreen and Loki continue to fight. At one point, Tippy-Toe jumps onto Loki's face, blocking his vision. As Loki fumbles with the squirrel, Doreen rushes for the tesseract. She dives on the ground, but when she tries to grab it, her hand goes right through it in a green shimmer. Her face falls. It was just another illusion. As she lies on the ground, Loki approaches her, towering over her with a triumphant grin. He has the tesseract in his hand, chuckling darkly.

LOKI

This is who the mighty Avengers sent to stop me? Pathetic.

He kicks Doreen in the face and turns to leave.

DOREEN

If you bring that to Thanos, you're dead. He'll kill you.

Loki pauses and turns around, visibly amused by her comment.

LOKI

Is that so? And pray tell, why would he do that?

DOREEN

Why wouldn't he? You're just a pawn to him. You really think Thanos gives a damn about you? About what you want? He's using you! And you know it!

Loki's smile fades and his jaw tightens.

LOKI

You don't know the first thing about it. It's merely a transaction. I give Thanos the tesseract, he gives me my throne. That's all there is to it.

Doreen picks herself up and tries to approach him, but he blocks her with a green magic shield.

DOREEN

Loki, listen to me, please! The tesseract is one of the infinity stones. If Thanos gets all six, he's going to wipe out half of all life in the universe! Trillions would die, including people on Asgard, and you'd barely even have a kingdom left to rule! Is that what you want?!

Loki freezes in shock.

LOKI

How would you know that?

DOREEN

Because I was there when it happened.

EXT. DESERTED PLANET - NIGHT

Doreen is trying to make a fire with a few bundles of wood she gathered as Loki paces around, visibly troubled.

LOKI

So, Asgard is destroyed... and half the people are dead... Assuming, of course, I am to believe this story of yours.

DOREEN

Oh, I'm sorry, who's the god of lies here?

She gives a little cheer as the wood pile lights up in flames. Loki stops his pacing to look at her.

LOKI

You don't know anything about this planet, do you?

DOREEN

Gee, how could you tell?

LOKI

Well, for one thing, you're burning netmook wood, which emits a toxic fume when set ablaze...

DOREEN

Oh, God!

She frantically kicks dirt onto the fire, extinguishing it.

DOREEN

Why did you even come here, anyway?

LOKI

It's one of the most remote places in the galaxy. It won't stop Thanos' army from finding me... but it'll at least buy me some time.

(He grins.)

And, actually, I was joking about the netmook wood... It's completely harmless.

Doreen scowls at him.

DOREEN

Asshole.

With a wave of Loki's hand, a green fire appears on the wood pile. Doreen sits down to warm her hands. A green shimmer appears on her face, and she touches her cheek, where a cut has disappeared.

DOREEN

Thanks.

Loki sits down beside her.

LOKI

How is Thor?

(Beat)

DOREEN

Miserable. He's changed... a lot.

(Beat)

He really misses you. You were the only family he had left.

Loki looks down solemnly for a moment, then glances at Doreen.

LOKI

You know, I don't recall most mortals having a tail.

Doreen lets out a light laugh.

DOREEN

They don't. I was born different. I've had to hide it my whole life... well, at least until now.

LOKI

I... suppose I understand what that's like. I'm actually not Asgardian. I was born a Frost Giant. But I didn't know until I was much older. Of course, then I knew everyone would fear me for what I was...

(Beat)

DOREEN

I thought that if I could be an Avenger, I could at least make the most out of being different. I looked up to them for years... I thought if I could prove myself to them, maybe I wouldn't have to be afraid anymore. But I was so stupid! I should've known I wasn't cut out for this... I stole Tony's tech for nothing and now I've messed up their entire plan... I couldn't even face you without getting my ass kicked!

Loki clears his throat awkwardly.

LOKI

Well, um... you were quite an impressive fighter... for a mortal, that is. I-I didn't really mean what I said earlier, I was just trying to intimidate you... Of course, your stance could use work, and your techniques are a bit sloppy-

DOREEN

Wait, are you trying to make me feel better?

LOKI

What? Well, I-

DOREEN

Because that's... actually really sweet. I mean, you completely suck at it, but...

Loki rolls his eyes and stands up to leave.

DOREEN

No, no, no, I'm just kidding! Sorry, I... It was just a joke. Thanks, really.

Loki smiles a little and sits back down.

LOKI

In all seriousness, you are stronger than you believe. Having faith in yourself is the most powerful weapon you can possess.

Doreen smiles and nods.

DOREEN

Loki, I... about what Thanos... what he did to you... I had no idea. I'm so sorry you had to go through that.

Loki turns away, his expression solemn.

DOREEN

Why didn't you tell anyone?

Loki lets out a bitter laugh.

LOKI

You honestly think anyone would believe me if I had?

Doreen's face falls. Suddenly, Tippy-Toe starts angrily squeaking at him.

DOREEN

Oh, uh, this is Tippy-Toe. Sorry, she kind of hates you 'cause she said your Chitauri army blew up her stash of acorns back in New York...

LOKI

I know. She's expressing her anger with rather foul language.

DOREEN

You speak squirrelese?

LOKI

I have the power of all-speak. It allows me to understand all languages in the universe.

Doreen looks impressed.

LOKI

Does it... feel better to be open with your identity now?

DOREEN

I don't know. It's... weird, definitely, but... I think in a good way. I'm just not used to it. My dad was always so strict about keeping it a secret. I love him and I miss him, but he could be really hard on me sometimes. I guess... he just wanted to keep me safe.

(Beat)

LOKI

My birth father abandoned me and left me to die because he thought I was too small.

(Beat)

DOREEN

Wow. What a dick.

(After a pause, she stands up.)

Loki, I know this is a lot to process, but I really can't leave here without the tesseract.

Loki stands up as well.

LOKI

Doreen, I am sorry, truly I am, but I can't give it to you. I know your future is in peril, but I have my own future to think about. The tesseract is the only bargaining chip I have against Thanos. If he truly is as ruthless as you say, giving it to him might be the only way to convince him to spare my life.

DOREEN

I could bring it back! After we're done with it in the future, I could bring it here to this exact spot in time. It would be like it never left!

Loki scoffs and starts to object, but Doreen interrupts him.

DOREEN

And because I know you think I'm going to double-cross you... Tippy?

Tippy-Toe's ears perk up.

DOREEN

You stay here with Loki until I come back, okay?

Tippy-Toe lets out a few squeaks in protest, but reluctantly hops to Loki's side.

DOREEN

Now I have to keep my promise!

LOKI

Even so, this is beyond risky. What if you don't make it back?

DOREEN

You told me to have faith in myself. Now I'm asking you to have a little faith in me.

Loki looks down and shakes his head.

LOKI

I would be the biggest fool in the nine realms to leave my fate in the hands of a mortal...

Doreen's face falls. After a moment, Loki extends his hand, where the tesseract appears. He places it in Doreen's hands.

LOKI

Then again... I've been a fool for so long now... One more time couldn't hurt.

Doreen looks down at the tesseract in her hands in disbelief. When she meets Loki's eyes again, he gives her a small nod. Ecstatic, she grins and gives him a kiss on the cheek. Shocked, he recoils back slightly.

DOREEN

Oh, Loki, thank you! I won't let you down, I promise!

Suddenly, Loki freezes. He makes a strangled, choking sound as his face contorts in terror.

DOREEN

Loki...?

Loki collapses on the ground and starts convulsing, gasping for air.

DOREEN

Loki?! What's happening?!

She grabs him and turns his face towards hers.

LOKI

(in a strangled voice)

Go!

Horrified, Doreen looks up to see THE OTHER materializing onto the planet.

We cut to The Other stalking toward Loki, clenching his fist, making Loki's choke harder. Doreen is nowhere to be seen. Loki lets out an agonized groan.

THE OTHER

You fool... You really thought you could run from us? I told you there would be no escape.

(He glances at the tesseract, which is lying beside Loki.)

Now, you will give Him what is rightfully His...

The Other reaches to collect the tesseract, only to have it disappear in a green shimmer. It was just an illusion. Furious, The Other looks up to see Loki giving him a weak grin.

THE OTHER

You knave! Where is the tesseract?!

We cut to Doreen and Tippy-Toe running away. Doreen crouches behind a purple rock and starts to set the time-travel device for the present. As she is about to press the button to go home, she glances back at Loki, who is screaming in agony as The Other shocks him with his scepter. She bites her lip in contemplation.

We cut to The Other brutally torturing Loki with his scepter.

THE OTHER

Tell me where it is!

LOKI

(Weakly)

I would rather die.

THE OTHER

As you wish...

The Other strengthens his choke on Loki, watching as the life starts to drain out of his eyes. Suddenly, a surge of blue power blasts The Other out of the way. Gasping for air, Loki rolls over to see what happened. His eyes widen. Doreen is holding the tesseract, her body glowing with a blue haze. She is wielding its power. As The Other moves to attack, she strikes again. Loki and Doreen begin fighting him together, Loki with his magic, and Doreen with her powers and the tesseract. Eventually, Doreen is caught in a standoff with The Other. They are both grasping the tesseract, trying to take it from the other. A few cracks start to form on the cube. Doreen's eyes widen. Suddenly, the cube bursts, sending Doreen and The Other flying. Loki rushes over to Doreen, helping her up.

LOKI

Are you alright?

Doreen looks up, her face falling at what she sees. The Other is lying dead on the ground, with smoke rising from his body. Beside him, the tesseract has shattered into hundreds of pieces.

DOREEN

No, no, no, no...

She desperately tries to scramble up as many pieces as she can, but it is no use. Defeated, she collapses back onto the ground.

LOKI

What were you thinking?! I told you to go!

DOREEN

I couldn't!

LOKI

Why?! Your world was at stake, you should've left when you had the chance-

DOREEN

I wasn't just gonna let you die!

Loki freezes. After a pause, he slowly sinks to kneel beside her as she cries.

DOREEN

What have I done...? This is all my fault... The Avengers... Everything they've done, I've just wasted... I'm a failure...

LOKI

Doreen, look at me.

Doreen glances at him with teary eyes.

LOKI

You are no failure. What you did... I've never seen anyone wield the tesseract like that. You unlocked its power. It chose you.

DOREEN

Why? I... I don't understand...

LOKI

You don't have to.

Doreen sniffles and wipes her eyes.

DOREEN

At least... with the tesseract destroyed... your future is safe. Thanos can never collect all of the stones now.

Loki looks down with guilt.

LOKI

What about your future?

Doreen looks down.

DOREEN

We'll... we'll be okay. I guess... we'll just have to move on.

They both stand.

DOREEN

I... I'd... better go.

(Tippy-Toe hops on her shoulder again.)

What will you do?

LOKI

I suppose I'll have to stay here until the bifrost is rebuilt. After that... well, my father will most likely imprison me for my crimes.

DOREEN

Please tell them the truth about what happened to you. Even if your father doesn't believe you... I'm sure Thor will. Someone has to.

Loki nods slowly.

LOKI

Alright.

Doreen adjusts her time travel device on her wrist and glances at Loki one last time. They exchange a sad look. Suddenly, Doreen hugs him.

DOREEN

Goodbye, Loki.

She and Tippy-Toe disappear. Loki is left looking over the area where they were for a moment. As he starts to walk away, he suddenly notices the tesseract shards beginning to rise...

INT. AVENGERS COMPOUND - DAY

The Avengers all return from their time travel journeys... all except for Natasha. Doreen immediately rushes towards Tony.

DOREEN

(Rapidly)

Tony, I'm so sorry, I couldn't get the tesseract back, I really tried-

TONY

Whoa, whoa, whoa, calm down, kid. We got the tesseract.

Doreen freezes.

DOREEN

You did?!

Tony nods and taps his briefcase.

DOREEN

Oh, thank God...

Everyone freezes when they notice Clint standing without Nat.

BRUCE

Clint? Where's Nat?

Clint collapses to his knees.

INT. AVENGERS COMPOUND - DAY

As Tony is working on the gauntlet, a hand suddenly places the BARF-tech device on his desk. Tony raises an eyebrow to see Doreen standing there with her head down. He picks up the device to examine it.

DOREEN

I'm sorry I stole your tech. I was just trying to prove that I could do something useful. I know that's really stupid and immature, and I totally get it if you want me to leave. I can pack my stuff up now-

TONY

Do you know how long it took my guys to program this thing to work on an unconscious brain?

DOREEN

Huh?

TONY

Two months. It took them two months to do what you did in two minutes.

Doreen freezes.

DOREEN

I...

TONY

You know, I took a look at your records from Empire State. You were one impressive student. Top of your class. Why'd you leave?

DOREEN

I... I don't know. I guess... after Thanos, I just didn't really see the point anymore.

Tony thinks for a moment.

TONY

I actually had to put the augmented reality department on hold for a little bit. We had some issues with the guy that was running it a couple years back, and higher-ups were complaining about costs, but since I don't have to worry about that anymore... I want you to hang onto this.

(Beat)

DOREEN

Are you serious?

TONY

Totally serious. Tinker around with it a little, see what you can do. We could use a new face handling the department.

He extends his hand for Doreen to take it.

DOREEN

I... oh my God, I-

He pulls his hand away before she can take it.

TONY

On one condition: Whatever happens today, whether we win or lose, you go back to school. Get your degree. Get your shit together. Because you've got a brilliant mind and I don't want to see that go to waste, you understand me?

Doreen grins.

DOREEN

Okay.

TONY

You sure?

DOREEN

Yeah.

TONY

You promise?

DOREEN

Uh huh.

TONY

Okay.

He hands her the device and heads out.

TONY (O.S.)

And next time you steal one of my gadgets, be sure to return it on time or I'm gonna start charging late fees!

Doreen grins.

INT. UNDERGROUND RUINS - DAY

After the explosion that destroyed the Avengers Compound, Doreen wakes up underground, surrounded by a pile of rubble. She sits up and sees her high-tech goggles have been crushed.

DOREEN

Shit...

She tosses them and tries to stand up, letting out a cry of pain. Her leg has a huge gash in it. Working quickly, she takes out a bandage roll from her utility belt and patches up her leg. Suddenly, she sees something glowing from underneath a pile of rubble. She stands up and cleans the object off. It is Tony's gauntlet.

DOREEN

Oh my God...

She scoops it in her arms, trying to make her way out of the maze of ruins. She suddenly bumps into Clint.

DOREEN

Oof! Oh... hey, are you okay?

Clint dusts himself off.

CLINT

Yeah, I'm fine. What the hell happened?

DOREEN

I think someone followed us from the past.

Clint glances at the gauntlet in Doreen's arms.

CLINT

Well, whoever they are, we need to make sure they don't get their hands on that. Did you see where-

They suddenly hear a low growling sound in the distance. Clint readies his bow, aiming at the sound. Through the dim emergency light of the tunnels, they can see the outlines of Thanos' monsters creeping towards them. Doreen whistles and hands him the gauntlet.

DOREEN

Here. Take this. We'll deal with them.

CLINT

"We"?

DOREEN

Yeah! I called for backup!

Suddenly, a giant group of squirrels squeezes through the cracks in the rubble, ready to fight. Clint takes the gauntlet and flees. Doreen and her army rush towards the monsters and begin fighting.

We cut to another part of the ruins, where Rocket is scrambling to make his way out. Water is pooling into the area, threatening to drown him.

ROCKET

Hey! Can anyone hear me?! I need help! Get me out of here!

We see Scott, in his microscopic form, in another area.

SCOTT

I hear you! Just give me a second!

ROCKET

I don't have a second!

Scott starts running.

SCOTT

I'm trying to get to you, buddy, but I don't know how long it's going to take! I don't think it's safe to expand here...

DOREEN

Ooh! I can help with that! Hey, Monkey Joe, could you give the nice man a lift?

SCOTT

Monkey who?!

He sees a squirrel barreling towards him.

SCOTT

WHAT THE-?!

Monkey Joe tosses Scott onto his back and starts running towards Rocket. Once he reaches him, Scott is able to get them both to safety.

We cut to Doreen and the squirrels fighting the monsters. Tippy-Toe tries to attack one, but it rips it off its face and tosses it aside.

DOREEN

HEY!

She pounces on it and begins beating it with her fists, emphasizing each word with a punch.

DOREEN

NOBODY! TOUCHES! MY! PET! SQUIRREL!

We cut to Rocket holding a grenade.

ROCKET

I got it. This'll blast those creepy suckers outta the sky.

He presses a button, activating the grenade, and drops it down into the ruins.

SCOTT

Isn't Doreen still down there?

(Beat.)

ROCKET

Oops...

We cut to Doreen fighting the monsters. Suddenly, she notices all of the squirrels are disappearing into the cracks.

DOREEN

Huh? Hey, where are you guys all going?

(She freezes when she sees the grenade by her feet.)

Gah!

As the explosion rocks the tunnels, Scott and Rocket wince. They suddenly see Doreen crawling out of the ruins. She is panting and covered in soot.

DOREEN

Would you guys mind giving me a heads-up before you send in the grenade next time?

Rocket and Scott give her a sheepish grin.

EXT. BATTLEFIELD - DAY

Everyone who was dusted is emerging from the portals. Dr. Strange looks around at all of the people gathered.

STEPHEN

Is that everyone?

WONG

What, you wanted more?

STEPHEN

Wait, hang on.

He forms another portal where present-day Loki falls onto the ground. Loki dusts himself off and scowls at Stephen.

LOKI

Do you have to do that every time?!

Stephen shrugs. Thor freezes when he sees his brother standing before him. Loki's face falls as Thor begins to walk toward him slowly, his expression dark and unreadable. Loki starts to back away.

LOKI

(Quickly)

Look, I realize this is becoming something of a tradition between us, but I swear it was all for the best. If you would just give me a moment to explain, I'm sure you would understand that my death was in Asgard's best interest and I had no other alternative but to-

He freezes when he see's Thor's new physique... or lack thereof.

LOKI

What... the hell... happened to YOOOOUUU-

Thor squeezes him with a bone-crushing hug. When he lets go, there are tears in his eyes.

THOR

It's good to have you back, Loki.

Loki smiles, his own eyes beginning to well up.

LOKI

It's good to see you too, brother.

THOR

How have you come back?

LOKI

Well... I was resting in the afterlife, when I received a visit from my past self. He told me of a very special mortal who saved his life and granted him the tesseract, which allowed him to travel through time. It also gave me the power to restore my body and return my soul to the land of the living.

He winks at Doreen, who blushes and grins.

LOKI

Still... it was a shame to leave. It was wonderful to see mother again. Valhalla is also quite lovely this time of year...

DOREEN

Wait... I thought the tesseract was destroyed!

Loki smirks and conjures up the tesseract in his hand. Doreen's jaw drops.

DOREEN

Wh-?

(She laughs.)

You really are an asshole, you know that?

They hear someone clear their throat behind them. Tony, Steve, Bruce, and Clint look at them with a stern, distrustful glance.

BRUCE

What is he doing here?

LOKI

I've come here to aid you in your fight against Thanos.

TONY

Yeah, last time you were here, you were working for Thanos.

DOREEN

That wasn't his choice. Tony, I saw what happened to him. Thanos tortured him. He forced him into it.

LOKI

I know I am far from blameless for what has happened. But I have a score to settle with Thanos too. And I want to help my people, same as all of you.

STEVE

Why should we trust you now?

(Beat)

LOKI

I've got red in my ledger... I'd like to wipe it out.

Clint's eyes widen. After a moment, a hint of a smile grows on his face.

We cut to Thor lifting Doreen up with a crushing hug.

THOR

Thank you for bringing my brother back, Lady Doreen!

DOREEN

Oof!

(She awkwardly pats him on the back.)

Yep, I love you too, big guy...

An assortment of scenes during the battle (in no particular order)

During the scene where all of the female Avengers team up, Loki starts to join them, but Doreen stops him.

DOREEN

Hey! Um, excuse me? Ladies first!

Loki shifts into LADY LOKI.

LADY LOKI

Is this better?

Doreen smirks.

DOREEN

You're hilarious.

We cut to Loki and Doreen fighting together. A monster sends a rock tumbling towards them and appears to crush them. Suddenly, a hand taps the monster on the shoulder from behind. The monster turns around and a green shimmer reveals the real Loki and Doreen. Doreen punches the monster, sending him flying. Doreen and Loki smirk and share a fist bump.

We cut to Thor and Loki fighting together.

THOR

We should do get help-

LOKI

Don't even think about it.

We cut to Clint, who is fighting off some of the monsters. As they begin to gang up on him, they start to overwhelm him. He collapses to the ground, trying to push them off of him. Just as one is about to slit his throat, it is stabbed from behind. The rest are magicked away. The stabbed monster collapses and we see Loki standing behind it. Clint stares at him in awe.

CLINT

Thanks...

LOKI

Don't mention it.

We cut to Dr. Strange, Wanda, and Loki standing together. The camera pans around the trio as they charge up their magic.

STEPHEN

God, these things are everywhere...

LOKI

What, you've never fought a demonic horde before? Thor and I used to do it every week. It's a been our favorite past time since we were children!

STEPHEN

Good for you. You don't need to brag.

WANDA

Will both of you shut up?

As she flies off, Stephen and Loki raise an eyebrow at each other.

We cut to Wanda as she uses her magic to lift Thanos up, along with several rocks. Doreen jumps onto the rocks to leap onto Thanos’ shoulder, unleashing her knuckle spikes and digging them into his face. Thanos screams, overwhelmed by the two women attacking him. Using the stones, he eventually manages to send Doreen and Wanda flying. As he turns away, we see that Doreen has gouged his eye out. Wanda uses her magic to clear a pile of rocks off of Doreen.

DOREEN

Oof! Thanks

(She extends her hand to Wanda.)

Oh! Hi! I’m Doreen!

Wanda smiles.

After Tony's death, all the Avengers begin to kneel. Loki is standing by Doreen and Thor's side, both of whom are crying. After hesitating, Loki kneels beside them, looking at Tony's body solemnly.

EXT. LAKE HOUSE - DAY

At Tony's funeral, we see Nancy hugging Doreen, who is crying. Later, Doreen approaches Loki, who is standing alone on the porch.

DOREEN

Loki...

He turns around at the sound of her voice.

DOREEN

I... wanted to say thank you.

LOKI

Whatever for?

DOREEN

For believing in me. When I didn't believe in myself.

(Beat)

Well, I guess that wasn't you, you, it was the past you, but... whatever, it still counts.

Loki smiles.

LOKI

No, my dear, it is I who should be thanking you. You showed me unconditional kindness when no one else did.

(He gives a small bow.)

My most sincere gratitude, Lady Doreen. I owe you my life. I don't know how I could ever repay you.

Tippy-Toe crawls on his shoulder and squeaks at him.

DOREEN

You could start by giving Tippy those acorns you owe her. You know... whenever you get the chance.

LOKI

I will... certainly make a note of that.

He gives Tippy-Toe a few awkward pets.

DOREEN

So, now what? Are you gonna try and take over New Asgard?

Loki laughs.

LOKI

I think Asgard has had enough of my rule. No, I believe I'll accompany my brother on whatever ridiculous journeys he has planned. We do have a lot of catching up to do, after all. Also...

(He conjures the tesseract in his hand.)

I believe this will allow me to travel to some... entertaining places in time. I trust you won't tell anyone?

DOREEN

Well, I don't know, that depends. Are you gonna kill anybody?

Loki laughs.

LOKI

I will try to avoid it.

Doreen shrugs.

DOREEN

Eh, good enough for me.

LOKI

What about you? What will you do?

DOREEN

Well, I made a promise to Tony that I'd go back to school, so that's what I'm gonna do. Besides, I couldn't let Nancy finish her senior year of college alone.

They turn to Nancy, who is enthusiastically showing Thor her "Cat Thor" comics in the distance.

NANCY

And this is Cat Thor's mighty hammer, Mewnir, which he uses to defeat the evil Laufur, leader of the bad dogs!

DOREEN

She's a big fan.

Loki chuckles.

DOREEN

How did the past you know to find you in Valhalla?

LOKI

He didn't. He had a little help... with this.

(He tosses the tracking device she placed on him to her.)

A word of advice: Next time you want to track someone, do tell Tippy-Toe to be more subtle about it.

Doreen grins sheepishly.

LOKI

Of course, I expected all of you to enact your little time-travel experiment three days earlier, but better late than never, I suppose...

Doreen freezes.

DOREEN

You knew what was going to happen...

LOKI

But of course! Why do you think I got myself killed by Thanos in the first place? My plan was risky, but at least if I died, Thanos wouldn't be able to stop me.

DOREEN

(Slowly understanding)

Thanos couldn't kill you if you were already dead... But... but how did you know I would get my hands on the tesseract? And use its power and everything? And...

LOKI

My gift of foresight may not be as strong as my mother's, but...

(He winks at her.)

I know a special mortal when I see one.

Doreen blushes.

DOREEN

Oh! I almost forgot!

She hands him a golden locket with an imprint of his helmet.

DOREEN

I made this for you. I wanted to apologize for, you know... stalking you without your permission. This locket lets me see where you are if you're ever in trouble. If you need me at all, I'll be there.

(Beat)

I know it's not much, but... I just wanted to let you know how much I appreciate everything you've done for me.

LOKI

So... your way of apologizing to me for tracking my location is... tracking my location again?

DOREEN

I can only see it if you want me to!

(She pulls out a matching locket.)

I have one too, see? Just press this button here, and I can see where you are, anywhere in the galaxy.

She presses the button and a holographic screen of their location appears on both of their lockets.

DOREEN

I also put your little horns on it, 'cause I thought it'd be cute!

Loki smiles as she shuts the lockets off.

LOKI

I'll keep it with me. I promise.

DOREEN

Well... I guess I'll see you around. Bye, Loki.

LOKI

Goodbye, Doreen.

She heads off, leaving Loki to admire his new gift. Suddenly, she runs back and hugs him, catching him off-guard. After a moment of confusion, he smiles and returns the hug.

INT. STARK HOUSEHOLD - DAY

Post-Credits Scene

Doreen and Morgan are sitting in Morgan's room, where they are talking to Thor, Loki, and the Guardians of the Galaxy through a holographic screen. Thor is swigging a glass of whiskey as they talk.

DOREEN

See, this is why I'm the best nanny. Like, who else is gonna let you facetime with people thousands of light years away?

DRAX

Enough stalling. We must resume our game.

DOREEN

Right. Whose turn is it?

MANTIS

I believe it is Loki's turn!

DOREEN

Okay, Loki, truth or dare?

LOKI

Hmm... Truth.

THOR

Oh, please, you're incapable of telling the truth.

LOKI

I am not!

DOREEN

Okay... is it true that you did it with a horse?

LOKI

What?

DOREEN

Because I read in a Norse mythology book that you did it with a horse and then gave birth to a horse with eight legs, and... I don't know, that just seems super weird, like even for you.

Thor and the Guardians of the Galaxy snicker.

MORGAN

What did he do with a horse?

DOREEN

Uh... I'll tell you when you're older.

Drax turns to Loki.

DRAX

I am impressed, my friend. I did not know that equestrian women were your type.

LOKI

They're not! Those rubbish Midgardian books are full of lies!

THOR

I don't know, brother, you always seemed fond of the horses in the royal stables growing up...

ROCKET

Is that why you did it with a horse?

LOKI

I didn't do anything with a horse!

DOREEN

Okay, okay, guys, let him be. I'm just teasing. Whose turn is it next?

QUILL

I think it's your turn, Doreen. Truth or dare?

DOREEN

Hmm... I'll do a dare. Let's let Morgan decide! Morgan, what should I do?

Morgan whispers in her ear, and Doreen grins devilishly.

DOREEN

Ooh, yes! Okay, hang on a second.

She disappears into the next room. Suddenly, we see a flash of blue from the other room.

EXT. 2011 ASGARD - NIGHT

Doreen time travels to 2011 Asgard, where Thor is confronting Loki at the bifrost.

THOR

Why have you done this?!

LOKI

To prove to father that I am a worthy son! When he wakes, I will have saved his life. I will have destroyed that race of monsters, and I will be true heir to the throne-

Suddenly, they are both hit with Valkyrie's obedience disks, which electrocute them both and cause them to collapse on the ground. Doreen, in her time-travel suit, steps over them.

DOREEN

Hey, uh, sorry to interrupt your little, uh, family drama over here. Do you mind if I borrow that really quick?

She scoops Loki's helmet off his head as he and Thor give her confused, exasperated looks as they convulse on the ground. She fumbles with the helmet, trying to place it on her head.

DOREEN

Oh my God, how do you wear this thing?

She manages to clumsily place it lopsided on her head.

DOREEN

Well, uh, thanks for that. I hope you can both resolve your issues in a peaceful, non-violent manner.

(She looks at Thor.)

Nice look, by the way. Really rocking the, uh, blonde eyebrows. Anyways, I got places to be, so I'll see ya!

(She starts to press her time-travel device on her wrist, but freezes.)

Ooh! I almost forgot!

INT. STARK HOUSEHOLD - DAY

With a flash of blue, Doreen rushes back into Morgan's room wearing Loki's helmet and holding Mjolnir. Everyone stares at her, jaws dropped and eyes widened.

DOREEN

Okay, I did it!

(She swings the hammer around.)

You know, this bad boy actually isn't as heavy as I thought it would be. I do have to return this stuff soon, though. I kind of left 2011 Thor and Loki electrocuted on the ground, and they'll probably be mad about that.

(Beat)

Anyway, whose turn is it next?

Frozen stock still, everyone continues to stare at her. Thor drops his whiskey glass on the ground.

6 notes · View notes

omnivorousshipper · 5 years ago

Text

Shobbs: Adventures in Rescuing

This was requested by anon here

Summary: In the middle of the night, Deckard receives a phone call. Apparently, Hobbs had gotten himself into a sticky situation and it's up to Deckard to save him. He just hopes he's not too late

Deckard leaned back into his plush armchair, carefully balancing his tablet on the arm of the chair as he tucked his legs under him. Once settled, he spread a blanket over himself, picked up his tablet, and readjusted the reading glasses perched on the end of his nose. On the end table next to him sat a steaming cup of tea, heavily doused with honey.

This was one of the first nights Deckard had had to himself. No MI6 agents knocking on his door, no little siblings bugging him for attention, and no bad guys trying to kill him. Deckard didn’t mind his chaotic lifestyle, but sometimes it was nice to have a little break and catch up on some reading.

Reaching for his cup of tea, his hand stilled when he heard his phone go off.

“You’re fucking kidding me,” Deckard sighed and let his head fall back for a moment before lifting it once again to look down at his phone, which laid next to the cup. For a second, Deckard considered ignoring the call, but knowing who he was related to, he decided that would be a bad idea.

His hand moved towards the phone slowly, almost as if he was about to pick up a venomous snake. Finally, his fingers wrapped around the cool metal and strong vibrations as the phone kept ringing. Looking at the screen, Deckard raised an eyebrow.

Unknown number.

Nobody, other than the people already stored in his phone, should have his number. Whoever it was calling him had a lot of explaining to do. Rolling his eyes, he finally picked up after a few rings, and gruffly answered.

“Shaw.”

“Oh thank god, I never thought you’d answer. Let me tell you, hearing your voice, it’s like hearing an angel’s. No. Like hearing God’s voice himself. Well, if you believe in stuff like that. Myself, not so much. I like believing in stuff I can touch, you know? Like chimichangas-”

Deckard hung up.

And his phone immediately started ringing again.

Even though he knew it was going to be a bad idea, Deckard sighed and picked up again. But before the other person could talk, Deckard growled out a warning.

“If you don’t get to the point right this second, I will find you and force feed you your own bollocks.”

There was a beat of silence before the other person started speaking, much slower and subdued this time.

“Okay, yeah. Totally understand.”

“Now, who the bloody hell are and what do you want?”

“Agent Locke, CIA,” the other man answered happily. “And let me just say, it’s an honor to finally be able to talk to you Deckard. Can I call you Deckard? Great! So, I have a favor to ask of you!”

Taking the phone away from his ear, Deckard rubbed the bridge of his nose, nearly dislodging his glasses. He knew he should hang up. It would be the easiest and simplest way to avoid a headache. But if the man was actually CIA and was able to contact him, something must be up.

Bringing the phone back up to his ear, Deckard was able to hear the tail end of Locke’s tangent.

“-but they said no, even though I told them it was a good idea. Why does nobody listen to me? I get results! I get things done! So what if there’s a little blood spilled along the way? It’s part of the job!”

“What the bloody hell are you talking about?” Deckard sighed, feeling his patience close to snapping.

“Your good ol’ buddy, Luke Hobbs of course! Although, he prefers to be called Rebbeca. I came up with that name, you know? He loves it ‘cause we’re best friends and-”

“What about Hobbs, you absolute tit?” Deckard hissed.

“See, that’s where you come in. I sent him after a few baddies in Belgium and all we’ve gotten from him in the last twenty-four hours is radio silence,” Locke blurted out, not seeming to take a breath at all as he relayed the information to Deckard. “And I don’t have any guys in Belgium to help him out, you know, with waffles and chocolate being the only things in Belgium. So, I was hoping you’d go in and help him out?”

Deckard had to resist the urge to rub the bridge of his nose again. And then gave up and rubbed his temple instead.

“You mean to tell me, the CIA doesn’t have anyone who can help an agent who could possibly be taken hostage?”

“Yeah,” Locke sheepishly responded. “That’s basically it.”

“All of you Americans are idiots,” Deckard grumbled.

“And talking about idiot Americans, Hobbs still needs help. Probably. If he’s not already dead,” Locke tagged on at the end.

“Jesus Christ, man!” Deckard nearly yelped. The way Locke just casually mentioned Hobbs’ possibly being dead had Deckard straightening his back and knocking his book to the ground. The idea of Hobbs being surrounded by enemies and taking his last breath made something inside Deckard twist painfully. Nobody deserved a death like that, especially a man like Hobbs.

“So, what do you say?”

“Send me the files on the guys he was tracking. I’ll see what I can do,” Deckard finally said, a note of resignation in his voice.

The next few hours went by in a blur after that. Deckard had rushed to get dressed, collect his gear and weapons, and all the documents he would need to get into Belgium in the middle of the night. Taking one of his least flashy cars, he sped down the Channel Tunnel while he listened to his phone read out the files on the guys Hobbs was tasked to take down.

Hobbs had gone after a guy named Mark Hulmes, the nephew of Lewis Hulmes, one of the most notorious mob bosses in all of Brussels. Apparently the younger Hulmes had been branching out and had tried buying some high end weapons from the black market, sending red flags to the CIA. And it seemed like they had a valid reason to be concerned if Hulmes got his hands on those weapons. The man had been involved in a multitude of violent crimes, including attempted murder, but because his uncle had strong connections with the judge, the younger Hulmes got off with only a few months of probation.

Deckard had never really been in contact with the criminal underworld of Brussels, but he knew Hulmes’ types. He was a ticking time bomb.

One that might have a mouthy DSS agent in his grasp.

Deckard knew Hobbs could handle himself, but from the way Locke put it, it seemed like Hobbs went in alone. And while the man was an absolute powerhouse by himself, Deckard knew that it could take only one lucky shot to take someone down. He just hoped that that didn’t happen to Hobbs and the man was just laying low.

“You better be alive, Hobbs, or else I’m going to kick your sorry arse,” Deckard mumbled to himself, gripping the steering wheel hard, his knuckles going white..

The next few hours went by slowly, with Deckard stiffly sitting and pushing his luck with the speed limit and local police. He couldn’t help the images that would pop into his head every few minutes. From Hobbs beaten and bruised, to him screaming in pain, to his lifeless bo-

“He’s fine,” Deckard firmly told himself. “If he could survive Brixton, he can survive some back alley punk from Brussels.”

The statement only marginally helped him feel better, but didn’t stop the darker thoughts from creeping back in.

The sun was peeking over the horizon when Deckard finally reached the row of abandoned warehouses that the Hulmes family owned and no doubt did most of their dirty business. The buildings were on their last legs, looking as if a strong wind would knock them down. There were weeds growing up the sides of them, while every window was shattered and allowed the elements to enter the buildings.

After a few loops around the place, Deckard was able to spot a few cars parked around one in particular, while all the others stood empty. Parking behind the one that appeared to be inhabited, Deckard started to grab as many guns, ammo, and other weapons that he could. And it being him, he was able to carry quite a bit.

He had no idea how many men would be inside, only a rough estimate from the eight or so cars he saw parked in front. It took him several minutes to gear up, but finally he shut the trunk of his car, armed to the teeth. Holding his custom handgun, the SVI Infinity, he sneaked around the warehouse, looking for a different entrance other than the front door.

“That’ll work,” Deckard smirked, spotting a firescape on the side of the building and allowing him access to the second floor. It was severely rusted and missing several rungs, and creaked horribly when Deckard started to climb up it. Taking his time, he listened carefully to the noises coming from inside.

He couldn’t quite make out what they were saying, but from the shouts and loud, boisterous laughter, it made the hair on the back of Deckard’s neck stand on end. People like Hulmes didn’t laugh when things were funny, but when something was in pain. That thought made Deckard quicken his pace, not caring if the deteriorating metal underneath him made noise; he needed to get to Hobbs.

The door at the top was just as rusted as the rest of the firescape and almost fell apart in Deckard’s hands as he shoved it open. It creaked loudly, making Deckard freeze in fear of being discovered. He couldn’t risk Hobbs’ life before he had even verified if the man was even in this building. Luckily, the shouts from down below didn’t stop, and Deckard could feel his heart slow.

Carefully entering the building, Deckard crouched near the railing of the platform that made up the second level of the building. And immediately, Deckard could feel rage boil up from his gut and spreading through his veins. Because down below, he could see Hobbs.

The large man was chained to a chair, surrounded by a group of various men, all who were circling the DSS agent and shouting taunts at him. Deckard felt himself jerk forward as he watched one of the men down below move quickly, his hand shooting out to punch Hobbs across the face.

“Look, boys! He’s not so tough anymore!” The man shouted, shrill laughter leaving him and bouncing off the concrete walls of the warehouse. “And to think anyone was ever scared of this worthless piece of shit!”

Hobbs didn’t react from the hit or insults. Instead, his head rolled so his chin was sitting on his chest, his whole body saging into the chair.

Deckard felt his finger twitch on the trigger of his gun as a spike of panic went through him. Hobbs was obviously unconscious and would no doubt need medical assistance soon. Clenching his jaw, Deckard raised his gun with both hands, leveling it at the group of men.

“Try it again, you arseholes,” he growled.

And like he predicted, another man broke away from the circle and was leveling a kick towards Hobbs’ head. With ease, Deckard tracked the man’s movements and before his foot was even halfway in the air, Deckard was pulling the trigger.

Chaos exploded underneath Deckard as the rest of the men started shouting and screaming from their friend’s brains spilled all over the floor and the resounding crack of Deckard’s gun echoed off the walls. Deckard sent out several more shots as the group below him ran around like headless chickens, all of them scrambling to grab their own guns.

“Up there!” One of the men shouted, pointing up at Deckard.

“Shit,” Deckard hissed out, and quickly stood up from his crouch and ran towards the stairs leading down to the lower floor and to Hobbs. He could hear several bullets ricocheting off the guardrail next to him. Ducking, he grabbed a different gun and easily raised it to shoot the men who were running up the stairs, trying to get to him.

Their bodies fell, making him have to jump over them and down the last few steps. He was immediately met with a baseball coming straight for his head. Dropping down, Deckard balanced on one foot and a hand on the ground, and sent a sweeping kick to his attacker’s legs, making the man hit the ground hard. Quick as lightning, Deckard moved over the man and hit him over the head hard with the butt of his gun, knocking the man out.

Jumping to his feet, Deckard kept charging forward, meeting another wave of Hulmes’ lackies head on. He ducked and weaved between them, easily dodging their fumbling limbs as they tried to fend him off. Every single one of them dropped to the ground, either from a vicious punch, a swift kick, or well placed bullet.

Panting, Deckard took on every person who came at him, and soon enough, the crowd of minions was thinning and leaving only about ten minions and Hulmes himself.

“Hey, arsehole!”

Shoving a guy off him, Deckard whipped his head around at the voice.

And felt his heart stop.

Standing behind Hobbs, holding a knife to his neck, was Hulmes.

“That’s right! If you don’t want me slitting this rat bastard’s throat open, then you better give right now, you piece of shit!” Hulmes shouted, the knife he was holding pressing further into Hobbs’ skin and making a line of blood to appear. “Drop you guns!”

Baring his teeth, Deckard let his current handgun fall from his hand and raised both hands to show his surrender. Two of Hulmes’ minions grabbed his wrists and pulled his arms tight behind his back. Ignoring the spike of pain that shot up his shoulders, Deckard let the men drag him towards where Hulmes and Hobbs were.

Now that he was much closer, Deckard felt another wave of rage wash over him as he took in the state Hobbs was in. He was clearly unconscious, his head hanging limp in Hulmes’ hold. There was a mess of bruises all over his face, while Deckard could see several cuts and gashes scattered all over his body, all of them slowly bleeding and soaking his clothing. The only thing keeping Deckard’s anger from spilling over was the fact that Hobbs’ chest was steadily moving up and down.

“That’s right,” Hulmes sneered. “One wrong move from you and I’ll cut your DSS buddy up.”

Deckard didn’t say anything, but felt a thrill of amusement go through him when Hulmes’ expression fell slightly at the glare Deckard was sending him.

“You two” Hulmes waved to some of his remaining men. “Search him and strip him of all of his weapons.”

Staying still, Deckard let the minions grab gun after gun off him, and couldn’t hold back the smug smirk that grew larger and larger as a formable sized pile started to form.

“Not so tough now are you, without all of your guns,” Hulmes taunted, his voice filled with faux confidence. Deckard could clearly see his hand shaking from where it still held a knife to Hobbs’ throat.

“I don’t need any gun to take you or your boys down,” Deckard said in a bored tone. Hulmes’ face scrunched up in confusion and fury. He shoved Hobbs’ head away from him, and stormed up to Deckard, shoving the knife so close to Deckard, he could just about feel the tip of it brushing against his nose.

“I don’t know who the fuck you think you are, but let me tell you, I won’t be bullied by some wannabe-”

While Hulmes was talking, Deckard subtly twisted his hand and was able to slip his watch off. With a hard thrust backwards, he was able to break the hold on his arms and snap his arm out to hit Hulmes across the face with his watch.

“Fuck!” Hulmes screeched and stumbled away.

The men who had been holding Deckard’s arms were staring at him in shock, not knowing what had just happened. Using their confusion, Deckard lunged toward them, with his watch wrapped around his knuckles, so the watch face was on the top of his fit. He heard a satisfying crunch as his fist landed on the first minion’s face. The second one went down just as quickly, still too stuck in his own confusion and fear as he watched Deckard take down his buddy.

The last few minions came at him fast and hard, but it was too easy to duck down, grab a gun and face them head on. The fight only lasted less than a minute, with each minion falling one after another. When the final body hit the floor, Deckard watched it disinterestedly, before looking up and tracking the room for Hulmes. The man was running straight for the main entrance.

Lifting his pistol, Deckard took aim and a final shot boomed through the warehouse as Hulmes’ body slumped to the ground, lifeless.

Deckard didn’t bother watching the body hit the floor, as he was already turning towards Hobbs and rushing towards his still slumped body. Gently, Deckard grabbed Hobbs’ head, each hand on a cheek.

“Hobbs. Hobbs! Can you hear me?” Deckard tried not to let the panic he was feeling slip into his voice. Still trying to be gentle, he patted Hobbs’ cheek, trying to get the man to wake up. “Hobbs!”

“Nnngh,” Hobbs finally groaned after a minute of nudging. His dark eyes blinked open, blurrily looking up at Deckard.

“Hobbs, thank Christ,” Deckard breathed out, cradling Hobbs’ head. He looked into the other man’s rapidly closing eyes, trying to see if his pupils were the same size.

“What…?” Hobbs slurred and promptly passed out again.

“Fuck sakes,” Deckard sighed out. “How the bloody hell am I supposed to drag you out of here, you giant?”

~~~

Luke’s not sure what woke him up; it could have been several things: the blinding light streaming in from the window, the loud voices he could hear not too far away, or the massive spiking pain that was going through his body. Well, it was definitely more in his head than anywhere else. Rubbing his head, Luke carefully levered himself up right, and took in the room around him.

It was a standard hotel room: outdated wallpaper, a bed, a dresser, a door to a bathroom, a door to the outside, and on the bed, Deckard Shaw.

Wait. What?!

Luke had to do a double take and whipped his head to look down at the man sleeping next to him. Laying next to Luke, the smaller man was curled up tight, still above the covers, with a hand stretched out towards Luke, almost as if he wanted to grab him.

What is he doing here? Wait, what am I doing here? What happened? Luke wondered to himself.

Frankly, even trying to remember more than his name hurt his head, but he tried to think back to the last twenty-four hours. One of Hulmes’ men had found him sneaking into one of the warehouses the mob family owned, and had been dragged inside, where he met Hulmes face to face. But, after that, things got hazy. Luke could easily remember the pain, the questions Hulmes spit in his face as he kicked or punched Luke repeatedly. He remembered passing out and the rest was a blank.

Keeping an eye on the ex-assassin still in the bed, Luke slowly swung his feet off the bed, trying to ignore how the world was spinning.

“Hobbs?” A voice rasped behind him.

Cursing under his breath, Luke turned and saw Shaw slowly sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

“Yeah?” Luke asked, keeping his voice level. He watched with narrowed as eyes as Shaw nimbly rolled off the bed onto his feet and rounded the bed to face Luke. Without thinking, Luke’s back straightened and he leaned back when Shaw was in front of him. The other man ignored him and was immediately grabbing the back of his head. Luke tried to jerk his head out of the strong grasp, but a sharp pain had him hissing out instead. “What the fuck are you doing, Shaw?”

“Checking how the lump on your head is, you absolute wanker,” Shaw mumbled back, focusing on feeling the said bump.

Luke was shocked to hear the actual concern running through Shaw’s voice and the way his touch stayed gentle, never once pressing too hard and causing pain. Soon enough, he nodded and took his hands away from Luke’s head, but then moved them to Luke’s torso, making Luke freeze at the feeling of those surprisingly soft hands on his bare chest, where several bandages were. And that’s when Luke realized just how close the other man was.

Shaw was practically standing in between Luke’s legs, his face only a few inches away from Luke’s as his brow furrowed as he checked Luke’s injuries. Luke could feel his face heat up and his heart beat faster by how close the smaller man was.

But all too soon, Shaw was pulling away and taking a step back from Luke. And Luke immediately missed having him so close.

“What do you remember?” Shaw asked bluntly, crossing his arms and waiting for Luke’s answer.

“Other than when Hulmes’ men caught me, not much,” Luke admitted.

“Bastards really got you,” Deckard said tightly. “You were completely out of it when I got there and saved your sorry arse.”

Luke’s eyebrows shot up. That had definitely been concern in Shaw’s voice.

“You took Hulmes and his guys down?” Luke asked incredulously.

“Wasn’t that hard,” Deckard shrugged. “Hulmes might have acted like a hard ass, but as soon as I bitched slapped him, his tune changed.”

Luke couldn’t help but match the smirk on Deckard’s face with a smile. Most guys he faced acted tough, but could never really deliver. But when it came to Shaw, the man could always hold his own and find a way out of a situation, which Luke had to admit was impressive.

“Well, thanks, man,” Luke sincerely responded, catching the surprised look on Shaw’s face. “If you hadn’t come along, I don’t know what would have happened to me. Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” Shaw mumbled, not looking Luke in the eye and shifted his weight from one leg to another. Luke couldn’t help the small smile on his face as he watched the bashful display. He’ll have to thank Shaw a lot more in the future. However, the other man cleared his throat before Luke could say anything else. “Do you think you can stand?”

“I think so,” Luke answered, a trace of uncertainty in his voice. Sitting up and staying still had helped the world to stop spinning, but Luke didn’t know what his balance would be like. It felt like someone had replaced his bones with jello.

Carefully, he hoisted himself off the bed and stood for a moment. So far, so good, Luke thought and took a step forward.

And almost fell flat on his face.

“Whoa there, big guy!” Deckard huffed out, catching Luke’s arms and helping him stand. Luke blinked rapidly, letting Deckard keep a hold on him and making sure he wouldn’t fall again. Because honestly, Luke had a feeling he would need the help.

After a moment of catching his breath, Luke looked down at the smaller man and felt his heart stutter at the way Shaw- wait, no- Deckard was looking at him. The worry in those deep, brown eyes was astounding as he carefully kept his grip on Luke firm, but gentle at the same.

Luke couldn’t remember the last time someone had looked at him with so much worry and attention, other than Sam. And thinking about it, Luke wasn’t sure he could remember a time where someone had to come save his ass, take out the guy he had been hunting, and then drag him somewhere safe to patch him up. And all without expecting anything in return. Because Luke knew Deckard wasn’t the time to save someone and ask for payment. That’s not why he did it.

Looking down at the smaller man, Luke couldn’t help himself as he leaned forward and just barely brushed his lips against Deckard’s, causing him to let out a small gasp. Pulling back, Luke was expecting a punch, a shove, or to even to be yelled at. Instead, he felt Deckard’s hand once again on the back of his head, but this time, his grip was tighter as he kept Luke where he was and crashed their lips together.

It was like fireworks were exploding all throughout Luke’s veins from where they touched: from every motion of Deckard’s lips, to the way his arms clung to Luke’s, and when Deckard shoved his chest against Luke’s, trying to get as close as he could. Luke never wanted the feeling to end, but he could feel himself becoming light headed from the lack of oxygen.

Finally breaking the kiss, Luke rested his forehead against Deckard’s, both of them leaning on each other and catching their breath.

“We should leave soon,” Deckard whispered quietly, not daring to break the calm between them.

“Where’re we going?” Luke whispered back, slowly rubbing a thumb on Deckard’s arm.

“Breakfast first, and then to London, back to my place.”

“I like the sound of that.”

“But first, let’s get you dressed.” Deckard smiled and leaned in for one most swift kiss before pulling back. As they both moved to wrangle a shirt over Luke’s bandaged chest, Luke was again surprised how gentle and caring Deckard’s touch was. He could definitely get used to it.

Deckard wrapped an arm around Luke’s waist, both of them moving slowly since Luke’s legs were still doing an imitation of a newborn fawn’s. But suddenly, Luke stopped, something just occurring to him.

“Um, is this a bad time to tell you I probably can’t pay for breakfast since I don’t have my wallet anymore?” Luke asked hesitantly.

“Oh, don’t worry about that, love. I’m sure I can find several ways you can repay me,” Deckard purred, his smirk holding several promises.

Smirking back, Luke was going to make sure that Deckard held to all of those promises.

#shobbs #deckard shaw #luke hobbs #hobbs and shaw #rescuing a loved one #rescue mission #hurt/comfort #small bits of violence #fast and furious series #fanfic #my fanfic

18 notes · View notes

bluexepher · 5 years ago

Text

Pisces 🤘🏾

[Collaborative metal performance with Doverh on drums, Cesta Embersoot on guitar, and Xepher K’awiil on vocals]

Cesta strolled up to the stage in heavy black leather boots. ‘IRON LYNXES’ was sewn into the back of her denim battle vest with the face of a roaring lynx below it. Numerous other patches adorned the old vest: ‘ELITE TAUREN CHIEFTAIN’, ‘MY OTHER RIDE IS YOUR MOTHER’, ‘GNOMETALLICA’, ‘BLIGHT BOAR’, SLAYER’, ‘CANNIBAL QUILBOAR’, ‘STAND IN THE FIRE’, ‘ALESTORM’, ‘GRIND GEARS’, ‘BANSHEE WAILERS’, and more!

Cesta hefted up a brutal-looking electric guitar. The body of the instrument curled into vicious, pointed blades on both sides. At her touch, a pair of horns sprouted from the head. Countless half-peeled stickers from other bands dotted the instrument. But one part of the body remained untouched: The signature from Elite Tauren Chieftain’s lead guitarist, Bergrisst.

Doverh takes the stage with bloodshot eyes, with well done banshee under-eye makeup down her cheeks. She wears a simplistic, black marching uniform fit with brown leather armor plates and plenty of belts and spiked chains by her waist. Doverh inspects her simplistic, classic set of rock and roll drums, that were also fit with unique additions like a Xylophone, multiple kick-pedals either for cymbals or her massive kickdrums. On the front of her kickdrums display a nice, well detailed piece of artwork reading “The Blight Stripes” written in red, black, and white.

Coming behind the bassist, guitarist, and drummer, a junoesque woman followed to take her place at the microphone stand. Musical tech was set around them to allow their live performance to mirror the clean studio sound while remaining evocatively raw. A wolfish grin blossomed on those full deep plum lips as her hands wrapped slowly over the microphone. She wore black jeans with a midriff baring top and vibrant combat boots. Her smokey eye makeup complimented that bold color choice. Her intricate white henna sleeve was on display under the lights, striking against deep caramel skin. Midnight blue curls were left free to fall wherever they pleased as she pressed forward.

Behind her, a tiny wyrmtongue in a similar leather battle jacket. ‘VOZ SQUAD’ was sewn into it with a tiny demonic smiley face. He pushed a giant amp up to the stage and jammed the guitar’s jack into it. From there, Cesta began to fiddle with the tuning pegs, occasionally strumming a note. Once done, she awaited the signal. Felfire coalesced between her index and thumb, solidifying into a scorched guitar pick. Blazing green flame trailed the pick as she brought it to the strings. She began to strum gentle, light notes. Despite the monstrous-looking instrument, each note produced a soft sound like tinkling glass. Cesta settled into a riff, continuing to strum as her black-nailed fingertips deftly fretted each note.

Doverh opens with her kick cymbal, quickly following with her lifting her custom, black, red, and white drumsticks to land on both her right and left drums before quickly clashing with the two cymbals above them to break the song out of the gorgeous melody of guitar, and into the darker tone. To be joined by base, she starts playing a simple drum beat, but quickly bounces her left knee, making her kick cymbal clatter from both it’s own kick mechanics and the occasional drumstick applied. It sounds fast, and rather difficult, however, Doverh makes it look anything but.

“Step forward...and meet a new sunrise. A coward..is shivering inside” Xepher sang in a melodic soft tone, her right hand slipping down the stand in hold. “Today I'll... be a friend of mine~. Who swallows suffering with smile” Her low euphonious tone carried the note as hands released the stand to float around her. “I drew a different reality. With unconditional loyalty. Ego hardly can be piqued...'Cause I'm selfless” Hands drawing whimsical shapes as her minor vocal fry sustained that last word. Xepher’s eyes came to close as she swayed to the trance of the instrumentals, body fluid and loose.

Without warning, the guitar’s sound exploded, aggressive and distorted. The sheer noise blasted Vozraal off of the amp. The warlock’s eyes blazed bright felfire. It crackled around her, wrapping around the fretboard and igniting the strings. Flames blasted out of the instrument’s head. Each note violently roared from the strings as she strummed. Cackling skulls manifested within the green flames, wafting off of the instrument and fading into the air with a fanged smile. Her wyrmtongue took cover for dear life, tiny red hands clasping over the back of his head as if mortar fire was raining down.

Doverh joins in behind the tune of the guitar, matching with heavy kick drums and cymbals to match the beat of the wailing, crackling guitar. Doverh grits her teeth and bangs her head a fair amount as she goes.

“Scale armour blaze!” Working from the diaphragm, Xepher projected her voice through controlled false cord screams. This sound was generated by the opening of the vocal folds to allow enough air to pass through, thus flapping the false folds. “Virgin innocence” Xepher’s motions were sharp and firm, knees bending as she carried the growl. “One being brings life. Another runs for death” She maintained an even volume growl that wasn’t pushed to create the aggressive sound. As Xepher repeated the chorus, her body leaned upwards into the mic as arms shot outwards. An expressive hand crawled towards the audience as her vowel shapes heightened the growl at “Another runs for death”.

Just as quickly the guitar blared with brutal force, it calmed. Its roaring sound gave way to gentle notes like falling rain. Cesta continued picking at the strings, her flames extinguishing from the fretboard. The horns on her guitar’s head retracted back in until they were only tiny stubs by the tuning pegs. Voz looked up with wary eyes and stood to his feet. As Cesta closed her eyes, the wyrmtongue took a seat by the amp and held a red-scaled arm up. In his hand, an ignited lighter. He slowly waved it, enjoying the brief reprieve.

Doverh transitions out of loud performance just as her other bandmates, however, she plays her first verse, with many more quick notes. It’s rapid, and back to back, keeping the adrenaline rush if not going deeper into one.

“No promises I ever give...Don't rely on me and I won't deceive” Xepher masterfully transitioned back to her clean vocals from that powerful growl. “The beginning or the end you can't tell. When I wave my fin and shake my tail” This verse sung at a higher pitch from the last, hands fluttering upwards. The note of tail wavered as her hips rolled to the melodic instrumentals. “I grew in different normality~ With unblamable morality~ Hooks and nets are there for me, but..” Xepher cooed those words, eyes darting over the audience now. “I’m skittish” A coy smirk curving those lips to display fang-like teeth.

SYKE. Cesta’s guitar roared with even more force. The sound blasted Voz over the crowd’s heads. The wyrmtongue squealed as he flew through the air like a demonic cannonball. CRASH. Hopefully, he didn’t land in any of the merchant stalls. Unfazed, Cesta continued to strum that vicious instrument. The amp beside her crackled with green flames. Even it grew horns as sound visibly reverberated from it.The warlock stomped a heavy boot onto the amp. It boomed out with a howl, amplifying Xepher’s growls. The machine rumbled like an angry demon hunter Cesta’s boot. She smashed her steel-plated toe into its head. It submitted. For now.

Doverh’s heavy drumming quickly turns from more of the same to a quick succession of hammering on the drums, going into a tiny drum solo before ending it on a single cymbal clash. Then silence on her part, creating an emptiness for the sustained guitar note to be the focus for a moment. Doverh lightly taps out a few cymbal notes as the song calms.

“Scale armour blaze! Virgin innocence” Xepher’s husky voice boomed with immense passion, filling the air with an electric sensation. The mic ripped from the stand as her body leaned backwards in a curve, flowing tresses whipping about. “One being brings life. Another runs for death” The growler’s core strength evident as the vocal distortions bellowed forth. Xepher’s knees bent low as her head thrashed forward to the repeat of the chorus. She was no longer tethered to one spot, body moving with that unbounded energy across the stage. Thick curls thrashed about her face as the mic was pressed close for a fry scream.

Under Cesta’s heel, the amp quieted as the song relaxed once more. The demonic amp fell still, the flames around it snuffing. Voz waddled back toward the stage, scooching through the crowd to join in with his master. The warlock tipped her chin toward the amp under her feet, commanding the demon to maintain it. As Voz nodded in acknowledgment and took his place, Cesta stepped off of the amp. She picked at the strings with closed eyes, enjoying the break as she bobbed her head to Xepher’s vocals.. She’d need her energy for the next part.

“Neptulon’s child shivering inside” Xepher slid down to the ground, curly hair draped about her face like a wild mane. Her head lifted upwards as eyes appeared to close, raw fervor etched across that visage. “Drowns in the liquid gold” Body swaying to one side as a hand snaked out to the crowd. “Cherished his life to the underworld~” An even tone elongated the last word, creating a mellifluous sound. “Meet me flashing when winter cries” A ferocity glowed in Xepher’s eyes as she sensually rose back up. Muscles tensing for the final breakdown. Her body slanting as she rocked back and forth, arms pushing upwards.

Cesta shot a signaling glance to Voz. The wyrmtongue cranked the amp’s volume up to 20. In a quick flurry of distorted notes, the amp roared to life again. The diabolical machine sprouted mechanical legs and even a tail. Voz piloted the machine like a horrific animatronic. It spewed fire out into the air as Cesta’s guitar ignited with flames. But regardless of the heat, she strummed with pride!

Doverh lays on heavy notes, almost every one heavy and fast, and most certainly joined by a kick cymbal. Doverh wrinkles her face and bangs her head to the maddening beat as the song reaches it’s climax. Doverh bounces both her feet, and makes the whole area shake as every note is joined by a heavy metal kick drum beat and cymbal until their final notes ring. She closes with a calculated flurry of notes alongside the guitar’s closing.

“Pisces swimming through the river. All their life against the stream” Xepher threw her head back in pure fry scream interlaced with overtones. “Searching for a hook to catch on. And see their sun beam~” The jump from distortion to her high mix register was effortless. In that moment, she took the cleans and screams connecting them into a unified thread. “Then suffocate in painful tortures. On cutting tables of callous men. Under a knife of handsome butchers” A crescendo of so many emotions poured from the woman as she jolted up. “Emeralds are ripped away!” Nails dragged beneath her vibrant eye as the false cord scream rose in pitch. Xepher repeated those words like an enraged siren chanting her spell on the sea. The final scream projected through an incredible amount of compression strength. Tendrils of ice crinkled up her pronounced throat muscles till she fell silent.

The ren’dorei’s hair ignited in a bright green blaze. It floated behind her as if she were in zero gravity, sound booming all around her like artillery fire. Despite the explosive volume, Cesta remained resolute in the face of this heavy metal apocalypse. She ended with a quick flurry of brutal notes, in rhythm with the blasting drums as flames spewed out of her guitar’s head in a flashy conclusion as she flung the guitar around her body.

Drums- @ben-doverh , Guitarist- @embersoot , Vocals - bluexepher

Performed live on April 1st, 2020 at @menagerieboutique @succulent-tart

#wow rp blog #world of warcraft roleplay #wra rp #mg rp #moonguard #wymrest accord #jinjer #pisces #skunk anansie #abra #a perfect circle #paz lenchantin #drummer #guitarist #heavy metal #metal music #afropunk

21 notes · View notes