#all work and no play makes plip make crack
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pwippy · 5 months ago
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lmao get bowl cutted
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7soulstars · 4 years ago
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Emerging of Kalon
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Request: I need some new johnny depp fics in my life where I want a reader with insecurities and johnny reassuring her that he loves her the way she is.Maybe she is a bit more chubby than his past gfs and she has to wears glasses.Abd thanx so much for accepting it.
Yooo this imagine is soo important to me. As a person who had a lot of insecurities and has suffered through depression.It is really important for me to spread a certain message to others like me. I have this belief that you aren’t born with insecurities,you are made to have them.Don’t point out things to people that would make them uncomfortable in the long term guys it becomes quite scarring for them and it also makes you a damn bully. Also it is normal to have stretch marks, tummy rolls ,acne, scars ,body hair and all that stuff, Man or Woman or any other gender you identify as.That’s what makes you human.If people can’t accept you for who you are please cut them out of your life.Ya’ll beautiful and I love ya’ll. Hope you like this !!
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Pairing : Johnny Depp x Reader
Warnings : TW,Nosy people who like putting others down for fun, Signs of depression,Suicide attempt,Angst,Swearing, Fluff, Johnny being the absolute sweetheart he is.
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Kalon ;Latin for ideal beauty in all, physical ,spiritual and moral forms
1.Instigation.
“I still can’t believe THE Johnny Depp went for you after his past ones”,said someone snapping her out of her trance.”Pardon ?”,she asked as if to confirm whether she heard him right . “I mean look at you....His exes were all supermodels weren’t they? Not a single flaw..”,the man guffawed.”Well you have have a micropenis why did your wife choose you?”,her bestfriend snapped crudely making her cringe.”Let’s go Y/N “, Y/BF/N said dragging she out of the restaurant .Well this wasn’t how I wanted college reunion to end up like,thanks Nathan she thought. “Are you alright Y/N ?”, Y/BF/N asked. “Of course”. No I’m not. “It doesn’t bother me at all.” It bothers me too much. “Nathan’s a dick .Don’t let it get to your head EVER”. But he’s right, his words are already in my head. “Yeah...”
2.The disquieting
“Hey glasses ! Looking ugly as always.”
“Look at her hogging like a pig, hey fatty you want more?”
“Darling why don’t you try going on a diet.”
“Don’t watch telly, you’re blind enough already”
“Jason what do you think of Y/N ?” “Damn man she was not even my type”
“Please Stop !”, Y/N woke up with a jerk, breathing in short gasps .”Johnny-”,she stops cutting herself off as she looked at the empty looked at the empty side on her bed. He isn’t in the country she remembered . Silence. She stared at the framed picture of them together on the wall. Plip. A tear fell. Plip Plip. Two more,before she couldn’t control it any more. The past wouldn’t change.She knew it would haunt her forever. But they had stopped for a while. But since Nathan ,it came back harder than ever. She didn’t tell Johnny, she’d never tell him , the last thing she wanted to do is to become a larger burden. So she cried herself to sleep every single day.
3.Repressing
Y/BF/N frowned as she looked at Y/N’s lunch. “Since when do you eat salads ?Hell,that isn’t even salad it’s just *ugh* lettuce....”,she says looking at the leafy stuff with absolute disgust. Y/N looked at her as if she did not understand what she was saying “I love salads,you know what? I’m not that hungry.....better get back to work! See you later!”,she said leaving as she didn’t even let the other speak. Starving, Hurting, Looking into the mirror and hating herself. The cycle continued.This was going to be dangerous in the days to come and she knew that too. 
4.Avoiding
6 missed calls from Mom
19 missed calls and 87 messages from Y/BF/N
40 missed calls and 150 messages from Johnny 
3 notifications from Twitter. 
No one had seen her in 4 days .The telly changed channels at Johnny’s apartment .Things scattered around as a trembling hand set down the remote . Fat tears dampened the pillow as her eyes read the news headline. ‘Johnny Depp at a dinner date with ex wife Vanessa ? Is he finally done with his simple girlfriend ?’
5. Falling
This was it.She ended up the way she predicted she’d end up 10 years ago. Weak,Tired,Empty and Lonely. She stared at the bathtub as it filled itself until it was overfilled,water spilling out of its sides as it splashed onto her feet. She didn’t flinch at the coldness.She stayed robotically still, looking down at her palm. A blade. Without hesitating she got into the tub,the tap still running. She didn’t think anymore,tears wouldn’t fall even if they wanted to. She closed her eyes as she let her self go ,ignoring the frantic ringing of her phone and the banging on the apartment door.
6. Alerting
To say Johnny was concerned was an underestimation.Y/N wasn’t picking up his phone since several days .He was distracted, couldn’t concentrate and worry filled his entire existence.He didn’t know what to do,even going as far as asking his ex wife for advice.He decided to go back ,back to his girlfriend’s loving arms.
The moment he stepped back into the city he took his time.Picking out her favourie flowers ,the chocolate she always loved and a little something of importance. He ignored the notifications is phone was chiming with, his mind only full of thoughts of her....The thoughts were short lived , disturbed much to Johnny’s dismay by Y/BF/N’s call. He ignored once,ignored twice but after that he knew something was wrong.”Johnny !”, panicked voice spoke through the phone. A frown replacing the man’s smile “Did Y/N text you that absurd note too?” “No,wait Y/BF/N let me check”,he put the call on hold as his eyes skimmed over the words displayed on his screen. His phone now dropped on the car floor he wished all of it was a dream.They stopped as he stormed out, back to his apartment. He knocked wildly on the door but not a voice came nor a cackle. He threw his body on the door several times ,”Goddamitt Y/N OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR DON’T PLAY WITH ME RIGHT NOW !”.In his panicked feat he had forgotten he had the keys until they dropped out of his jacket pocket.He didn’t wait a moment as he fumbled it into the key hole ,kicking the door open as soon as it opened.
Silence. 
Splosh . The sound of water hitting the ground from the bathroom echoed in the whole house.
“Y/N ?”, Johnny softly whispered as he pushed open the bathroom door. A horrific scene unfolded before him.
7.Mourning
It had been two days and Johnny wouldn’t budge.He saw red that day and the site still wouldn’t leave his thoughts alone.He would neither eat,nor sleep as he sat beside his beloved girlfriend who lay on a hospital bed. Dark Enough by Amanda played on the radio. The text message, and the talk with Y/BF/N replayed in his head as if war replayed in a retired soldiers dreams. “I didn’t know you were hurting that bad”,he whispered, tears threatening to fall again. He place his head on her stomach as he let the silent tears fall,until her hand fell on top of his head.
8.Resuscitation  
Johnny jerked up ,his eyes as wide as saucers, as he froze with eyes full of pain and hurt.Y/N did not dare meet his gaze.She felt ashamed and disgusted. But those feelings were immediately replaced with shock as Johnny almost lunged at her,hugging her tight. “I was so scared I was so fucking scared when I saw that text and then you drowning in the red water filled in the bathtub ! I thought you’d left me ! I thought you died you weren’t breathing...How dare you think of yourself that way how dare you think you were not good enough !? You were the best fucking thing that happened to me since my kids goddammit !”. Y/N had never seen Johnny this mad.Hell, she had never even seen him cry. She didn’t know how to answer him, she was too ashamed.He wouldn’t break the hug, as if he would loose her if he did. He loved her too much. “Why ?”,he asked again,as if he was begging for an answer. Even a word. He just wanted to hear her voice. “I was scared...”,her voice cracked coming out much broken than she predicted. “ I didn’t think I deserved you, I thought I’d never reach the levels of those beautiful actresses and models.I was scared to tell you about my past..I was scared to bother you...”. Johnny’s heart broke. He never thought his Y/N would think that way. She was always smiling .Not even a little frown on her face. Always there for everyone. Yet no one comforted her. How could he never see it? Of course he couldn’t see it she was perfect to him.His Y/N was the most perfect person in the world. “I love you”, he blurted. He never said that.He was too shy. But he hugged her tighter ,” I love you so much. Even with scars,insecurities or that ugly face you make when you see things you do not like. You were, have and always will be the most perfect to me. Please....don’t do that again...”
9.Emergence
Y/N was discharged from the hospital in a few days. Johnny wouln’t leave her side. All his attention would be on her to see if ate well, and loved herself. Y/N felt safe. And she wasn’t wrong . Johnny was everything she deserved.
They sat on the rooftop of a cafe in Paris. A calm silence passing over them. “Y/N ?” ,Johnny asked. “Hmm?”,she hummed along, silence entailing after. ”Marry me ?”,he asked. That was the day Y/N was the most happiest, and did the beautifully emerged Kalon say yes? you’d ask. She said it without a second to spare. After all our Kalon had found her wings.
“No one is born ugly, we’re just born in a judgemental society”~ Kim Namjoon(BTS)
----The End----
Whew ! After all the procrastination and time I took brainstorming this baby is done! This was requested by the wonderful @anycsirp​ I really really hope you liked this ! Also I meant what I said before the start of this oneshot . YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL. PERIODT. Please do like and comment your opinions! I really hope to read em ! I’m not that great of a writer but I did my best ! 
~Love, Hri
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vannahfanfics · 3 years ago
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Notice Me, Nejire-chan!
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Category: Mild Romantic Fluff
Fandom: My Hero Academia
Characters: Natsuo Todoroki, Nejire Hado
And here’s my piece for the Natsuo Big Bang! I hope everyone enjoys!
Natsuo rubbed his eyes tiredly with the heels of his palms, groaning. The aching orbs had begun slurring the words on his computer screen, making the term paper he was attempting to write seem more and more like a painting of incomprehensible smudges. Grinding his hands into his eye sockets did little to ease the burn pulsing through his eyes, so he flopped down on the table with a heavy sigh, opting to close them. The lack of light did seem to help, though starbursts of white danced through the blackness, like his eyes couldn’t seem to adjust to the sudden lack of use. How long had he been at this now— four hours? Six hours? Maybe even eight? Time blurred together during finals; hell, he may have wasted away the whole week and would find himself melded to the cushioned chair when he attempted to get up. 
The air around him hummed with pleasant jazz music and amicable conversation. That’s why he liked coming to the off-campus coffee shop to study and do his assignments; since most college students opted for the library and adjoined coffee shop, the air there was always thick with tension and panic. Here, Natsuo could enjoy a relatively peaceful atmosphere provided by the businessmen on break or the passersby just stopping in for a snack. He visited so often that he knew most of the baristas by name, and they in turn knew his order down to a T, so much so that they began preparing it as soon as he walked in the door. Natsuo knew many of the regulars, too; they often paused by his table to inquire how his classes were going. There was one regular, however, that Natsuo had never spoken to despite seeing often— because she was by far the prettiest young woman he’d ever clapped eyes on, and a pro hero to boot. 
I doubt Nejire-chan has ever even noticed me, he lamented with a groan, turning his face against the side of the table and cracking his eyes open to stare out the window. It was raining, the droplets splatting in thick globs against the pane before his face. It made a waterfall effect on his skin as the light played through the water, like he was floating just beneath the surface of the sea, watching the waves slosh overhead. It reminded him of the heroine’s gorgeous tresses of periwinkle hair, bouncing around her legs as she flounced up to the counter. She’s definitely way out of my league, he smiled ruefully. 
She had yet to stop by today, which was unusual. Perhaps she’d had a busy day, he thought as he rolled his head onto his chin to stare listlessly at his half-typed report displayed on the computer screen. Though he knew that he ought to get back to work, he just couldn’t bring himself to sit up and resume typing at the keys. I can take a little break, he decided when he glanced at the time. There was still plenty of daylight left, so he could spare fifteen minutes. Making up his mind before his better judgment could make him think again, he pushed out of the chair and stood. 
He stretched his arms above his head first, various joints cracking and popping after hours of hunching stiffly at the small table. He groaned in satisfaction as he felt several of his sore vertebrae decompress. He then snatched up the paper cup from the table and drained the last dregs of lukewarm coffee from within as he walked, tossing it in the trash bin as he passed. He would definitely need a refill if he was going to survive the latter half of his report, he thought with a wry smile and pushed open the glass door. The bell tinkled a pleasant farewell as he passed through the threshold. He didn’t go far, however, just meandered a few feet down the sidewalk and breathing in the fresh scent of the falling rain.  
The rain thumped against the cloth veranda over his head to fill the air with a consistent drumming. The droplets pooled in the fabric until it spilled over the edges, cascading in thick streams like a waterfall. Natsuo reached out, catching the water on his fingers. It was cool to the touch, and he turned his hand over to watch how it spilled over the top of his hands. The drops coalesced into thick beads on his fingers, wobbling for a microsecond before their weight and gravity set them plunking down into the puddle below with loud plips. He found a small smile playing over his lips as he just enjoyed the echo of the rain around him, enclosing him in a bubble; no assignments, no grades, just the wonder of the natural world. 
The bubble shattered when he felt the cold blade of a knife press against his throat. Natsuo froze, fear freezing his blood to ice. He slowly slid his gaze to his peripherals to see a hooded man holding the knife to his throat, dark green eyes glinting in the shadows playing over his gaunt face. Natsuo’s terror heightened when he realized that the man wasn’t holding the knife, but it was actually a Quirk that allowed him to spring the six-inch blade from the meat of his arm. 
“Give me all the money you have. Now!” the mugger demanded. Natsuo slowly eased his arms up in surrender, trying not to let the panic show on his expression. It was moments like this that made him wish he had a powerful Quirk like his parents or his brothers, even if that would have subjected him to the hellacious training regimens they were forced to perform as children. 
“Look, man, I don’t have any money,” he explained in a calm, quiet voice. “I’m a poor college kid, okay? I don’t have anything to steal; just get on your way and I’ll pretend this never happened.” 
“You think I’m fallin’ for that shit?” the man snapped, and Natsuo inhaled sharply as the blade was pressed harder into the soft skin of his throat. The pointed tip pierced the flesh, causing a bead of red blood to balloon up and then trickle down his neck. Natsuo’s throat bobbed as he struggled to control his breathing, the blood meandering down the plane of his throat before hitting the collar of his tee-shirt, dyeing the white fabric crimson. “Gimme all your money, punk! I don’t care— cash, credit cards, everything you got!” 
Natsuo nodded as much as the knife would allow, then gradually eased one arm behind his back to retrieve his wallet from his back pocket. The man’s eyes were feral as he watched him like a hawk, cautious of any sudden moves from Natsuo. The college student gave him a placating look as he brought the wallet around from his back, letting it flop open to show there wasn’t anything dangerous inside. 
“All right, hurry up! I ain’t got all fuckin’ day!” the man demanded with a wild look around. Natsuo had made the mistake of standing under the corner of the veranda, just out of sight through the wide window that spanned the front of the coffee shop. With a dreadful rainy day like this, the shop had received little foot traffic, so it was also unlikely that a bystander would come to Natsuo’s rescue. Resigning himself to the fact that he was going to be robbed, Natsuo slowly began fishing bills out of his wallet. The mugger reached over with his free hand to snatch them up, inspecting them with a scowl. 
“Are you serious? Is this all you fucking have?” 
“I told you, man, I’m flat broke!” Natsuo cried, growing irritated with the man’s persistence. He then released a strangled gasp when the man jammed the knife slightly into his throat again, this time hard enough to make a one-inch nick across the column of his throat. Natsuo’s eyes widened as he felt the hot, sticky blood leak down over his skin and pool against the part of his shirt resting over his collarbone. 
“Don’t get smart with me, asshole, unless you want to find yourself choking on your own blood!” 
“Okay, okay!” Natsuo said, flinging the rest of the yen bills at him. “Just take it and leave me alone, man!” His attitude was getting the better of him, and unfortunately, the mugger did not appreciate it. He bowed up on Natsuo, eyes flaring ferociously, and the college student gulped. Crap, I shouldn’t have done that…! Before the mugger could decide if he was going to act on his rage, however, a sing-song voice piped up from behind him. 
“Now, that isn’t very nice. Stealing is wrong to begin with, but stealing from somebody who doesn’t have much in the first place? That’s just a bit cruel, don’t you think?” 
Wait, I recognize that voice! Natsuo thought, his heart stuttering— but it wasn’t just from relief. 
He pushed up onto his tiptoes to peer over the mugger’s shoulder, and sure enough, there she was. Nejire-chan stood at the edge of the veranda with her hands on her hips and a sultry pout on her face, which made her look more cute than threatening. Two thick strands of her hair were styled into curvy shapes on her head, but they were wilting a little, as they were soaked with rain. In fact, the entirety of the hero was dripping wet; her periwinkle hair flopped loosely against her legs and the spandex of her suit gleamed with the sheen of water gripping to the smooth, rubbery fabric. Her cheeks were ruddy both with anger and a slight bit of chill. Despite that, Natsuo felt his heart thump as a dreamy feeling came over him. She’s so pretty… 
“Uwah! A pro hero?” the mugger growled, whipping the knife away from Natsuo’s neck to focus on the pretty girl. When he pointed it threateningly at her, she just cocked an eyebrow. Then, she stuck out her hands, and two swirling beams of light shot from her palms. The mugger yelped as they zapped him, making him retract the knife back into his arm. Nejire skipped daintily over to him as he twitched in shock, then bopped him on the top of his head with her fist. She must have hit a pressure point or something, because he crumpled to a heap immediately. 
“That takes care of that!” she chirped and dusted off her hands. She then smiled serenely at Natsuo. As his heart went into arrhythmia, he felt his head grow cottony and fuzzy and his tongue become heavy. “Are you all right, mister?” Because he couldn’t speak, or at least didn’t think he could, he just nodded dumbly. “I’m glad! I’m sorry this meanie here ruined your study break,” she huffed and nudged the unconscious man with a frown. Natsuo’s heart fluttered again, his eyes widening with delight. 
“You, er… You, um… recognized me?” 
“Yeah!” she beamed while flipping out her phone to call the authorities. She picked them from the speed-dial and nestled her phone against her ear while continuing, “I see you at this coffee shop all the time studying! You work really hard, clearly,” she said, and Natsuo’s cheeks turned  a bright shade of crimson. While Nejire-chan turned to the side to talk to the police, Natsuo clutched at his heart, a little worried he was having a heart attack from sheer happiness. 
So she has noticed me after all…! 
It didn’t take long for Nejire-chan to report the mugger. She planted her foot into the middle of his back, pressing him into the sidewalk, and gave Natsuo a reassuring grin. 
“The police are on their way!” Natsuo could already hear the sirens wailing in the distance, steadily growing louder with each passing second. “You don’t have to worry about him, so you can go ahead and get back to studying, okay?” 
Natsuo wrung his hands and swallowed thickly. Sure, he had a report to write, but to hell with that! The prettiest girl he’d ever seen was standing right in front of him, talking to him— no way he could pass that up! As he fidgeted nervously, working up the courage to say something, Nejire-chan cocked her head to the side to peer curiously at him. “What is it? There’s no need to thank me, you know! It’s all in a day’s work for me!” 
“Y-yeah, but,” he said shyly, rubbing at the back of his neck as he struggled to string words together into a coherent sentence. “Even still, I would like to buy you a coffee, Nejire-chan,” he said with a small, bashful smile. The hero blinked, a tinge of pink rising to her cheeks. “Not only did you save me, but you look like you need it,” he said with a gesture to her sopping-wet form. “You look like you worked really hard today. Please, let me treat you to something, even if it’s just something as small as a hot coffee.” 
Nejire’s smile turned shy too, and she clasped her hands behind her back, slowly turning from side to side. 
“Well,” she started, her cheeks turned even darker as she averted her gaze to her boots. “A coffee does sound really nice… I’d love to take you up on that offer, Mister…?” 
“Natsuo,” he said. “Natsuo Todoroki.” 
“Ah!” she cried with a clap of her hands, her eyes sparkling in recognition. “Do you happen to be Shoto’s big brother?” 
“That’s right.” 
“What a small world! I’m in your debt, Natsuo.” 
While Nejire gave an official report to the police, which had just rolled onto the scene with their lights flashing red and blue, Natsuo walked back into the coffee shop equipped with Nejire-chan’s order and his stolen cash. The patrons of the coffee shop ogled curiously at the man being loaded into the back of the squad car, apparently having no clue that Natsuo had been involved in a hold-up. By the time he was walking back to his table with a fresh coffee for himself and a hot chocolate for Nejire-chan, the squad cars were pulling away and the hero was flouncing into the coffee shop. 
“Thank you so much!” she smiled as she slid into the seat opposite him, taking the hot chocolate with two hands. She brought it to her mouth and took a sip. Her eyelashes fluttered and she hummed reverently, sinking into her seat while cherishing the warmth that flooded through her body. “Ahh… That hits the spot.” Natsuo chuckled at her adorably childish display while closing his laptop, knowing full well that he would not be typing a damn word as the beautiful young woman sat across from him. 
“I’m glad. You looked like you had a rough day, Nejire-chan.” 
“Just Nejire is fine,” she corrected, and Natsuo’s heart stuttered in his chest. “And it was busy,” she acknowledged with a little pout. “You’d think with the rain that criminals would take a day off, but it seems like they just got more motivated! I don’t think ‘saving it for a rainy day’ should apply to lockpicks and crowbars!” Natsuo laughed at that, leaning a cheek in his hand as he reclined on the table, eagerly listening to her. Nejire’s eyelashes fluttered while she sipped daintily at her hot chocolate again. Her cheeks were shining pink, but whether it was from the heat or his presence, he wasn’t sure. He hoped it was the latter. 
“What are you studying?” she asked. 
“Medical welfare,” he answered, tapping the textbook sitting beside him on the table. 
“Oh, so you’re studying to be a hero in your own way,” Nejire giggled. 
“I suppose you could put it that way,” he laughed while rubbing the back of his neck again, admittedly embarrassed by the analogy. It wasn’t untrue, however; Natsuo wanted to help people, just like heroes did. Nejire hummed and leaned into the table, tracing abstract patterns into the wood while she gazed at him admiringly. Somehow that bolstered his courage. He took a deep breath and looked at her, expression going serious all of a sudden. 
“You know,” he started, trying not to be unnerved by the way her eyebrow crept up her forehead. “I’ve noticed you in here before too, Nejire.” 
“Really?” 
“Of course. How could I not? I mean, you’re a pro hero, and not to mention drop-dead gorgeous.” Nejire flushed at that, shyly squirming in her seat as a smile played over her lips. Natsuo nervously twiddled his thumbs, but he’d already started, so he might as well finish. “This may be a bit forward of me, Nejire, but… I think you’re really pretty and I would love to take you out on a date sometime. I-I-If you’re not taken, of course!” he added quickly, holding his hands up. “M-maybe I should have asked first, I mean, I’m sure a pretty girl like you gets lots of attention, and it wouldn’t surprise me if you’re already involved with somebody… I-if that’s true, no hard feelings, of course—!” 
“Natsuo,” she interrupted, making him stop short in his embarrassed tirade. He gaped at her, cheeks shining pink, eyes wide, and his mouth hanging open dumbly as he waited for her to continue. A coy smile curved over her pink plump lips and she said, “I’m not seeing anyone.” 
“Oh,” he blinked, followed by a relieved, “Oh.” He sunk back into his seat, running a hand through his fluffy snow-white hair. His fingertips came off slickened with a bit of nervous sweat, which he hurriedly wiped off onto his slacks before Nejire could notice. “Then, um… Could I… Could I take you out to dinner sometime?” 
“Sure,” she smiled happily, and Natsuo swore that smile alone banished the rain and sent the sunlight pouring down from the sky. “How about tonight?” 
“T-tonight?”
“Sure?” she shrugged. “Why wait?” Throughout the conversation, she had finished her hot chocolate and he hadn’t noticed. She slid it to the side as she rose. “How about 7 o’clock? You finish typing up whatever you were working on, and I’ll meet you here, okay?” she smiled, then cheekily reached over to playfully pinch his cheek. “If that’s okay with you, loverboy.” 
Natsuo’s heart flip-flopped at the pet name, and he just slowly nodded, mouth hanging open like he was a fish gasping for breath. 
“All right, then. Toodle-oo,” she giggled while waving her fingers at him. He leaned sideways in his chair to watch her twirl on her heel and leave, a definite extra sashay in her hips that made his eyebrows creep up his forehead and his cheeks darken. The door’s little bell twinkled farewell, and then she was gone, disappearing into the drizzling rain. He stared at the door for a moment, wondering if he’d fallen asleep at the table and strayed into a dream. His eyes slid to the empty paper cup sitting at the end of the table, and he decided that no, it couldn’t have been a dream. 
“Well then,” he sighed with a smile and opened his laptop back up, “I’d better get started.” He cracked his knuckles, then rested his hands back on the keyboard. “I wouldn’t want to keep Nejire waiting, after all.” 
It was the opportunity of a lifetime, a date he had been dreaming of, and Natsuo sure wasn’t going to let procrastination get in his way. Smiling, he got back to work on his paper, anticipation brewing in his gut like warm coffee for the wonderful evening to come.
Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!
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grim-faux · 4 years ago
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14 - Exodus on Fire
After examining his surroundings thoroughly, Chris turned and walked out of sight.  I wasn’t certain where he had gone, or what the area was like that he was now in.  I watched, waited and listened, but at this distance the sounds of his chains were rebuked by the doorframe and the walls.  It frustrated me to no end but I was unwilling to proceed until I had some feeble hint to his whereabouts. That area looked dark enough, if I could get to the shadows he might not notice me.  Or at least get around him, if I could slip under his field of vision.  It was either the big fucker or the fire, and while I was safer in the flames, it was easier to shake him.
I reached the doorframe and listened, he could be on the other side admiring a wall, and I wouldn’t know it.  Or he might’ve found some other room to wander into, a way out less dangerous than playing in fire.   Sweat trickled down my hairline, the air was dry and warm but an odd draft glanced my brow as I was crouched and waiting.  I was on a tense countdown, the brittle timber of the Asylum was going up like matchsticks with every second I wasted.  Rush out and get snared by the big fucker, I wouldn’t be worried about burning up with two face.  I scooted closer to the doors edge, carefully touched the frame with my left hand and tilt my head near the wood.  I strained to hear, to imagine if I could where the big fucker would be.  A crack and crunch echoed from the other side, his trademark symphony of demolition.  The reverberations had distance on them, not clear cut noises near my position, which elicited a sigh of relief.  I peered around the corner and raised the camera, no eyes, no movement.  Crouched low I scampered into the shadows and paused, scanning the room.  Chris had headed to the right so that’s where I focused my attention.  It looked like another office station or watch room, sandwiched between the two corridors that boxed it in.  For employees protection, when the doors were present and variants had not gotten loose all over the god damn place.  The wood floor ended at broken tile, a few pieces clinked as I stepped on them but the bad spots were easily avoided. I knelt down and waited, the door abuse would have covered up the miniscule sound but it had ceased when I had moved.  I strained to pick out movement at the limit of the cameras zoom, but nothing presented itself.  The surrounding hall was still and silent, aside from a faint plip-blip.  Across from where I knelt, bodies had been situated around a table as though invited to a tea party.  Overhead, the leg of one was tangled in a lamp cord and his jagged neck stump dripped blood into the bucket set in the tables center below.  Something glittered in the lap of a man on the right side, and I focused the camera to make out the outlines of a head, probably the former property of the man suspended above the gathering. I would chalk this up to one of the more disturbing displays of mutilation, though there was no limit to the overabundance of insanity. At the far end of the room was larger entrance, shocker, it wasn’t crammed with crap so I could run through if I needed.  Seemed redundant, but little things like that needed to be noted in the event I rushed through and got lost in my panic.  That was an often enough occurrence.  I didn’t want to dwell on that scenario, couldn’t afford to lose time.  The smoky scent was oddly reminiscent of a campfire, if not for that underlying bite of plastic.  As I headed through the broken frame into the next corridor, the hazy vapor swirled in the blinding light lying on its side.  The lamp was that model that could be mounted or moved, a second lay a few feet from its twin.  Looked like their clamps had been snapped off and they were abandoned on the bare wood floor.  A bad spot if I needed to sneak by, but I was momentarily distracted by another plate mounted on the wall labeling directions.  Baths were indicated to the left, along with the Cafeteria. A few carts loaded with supplies sat in the way, they creaked as I pushed through toward what looked like another blockade of shelves and some desks.  I tested the sturdiness of the desk and found I could wedge my body between it and a shelf.  It was better than going back. I grunted and struggled against the furniture threatening to pin my body, and paused only once when the sharp pain crept up my side.  Just my ribs wanting attention, by far the worst injury I’ve received here.  Worse than the traumatizing loss of my fingers, which were not yet a life threatening matter.  If I wasn’t careful a good swat from any of the variants would snap them, and what would follow would be a painful exercise of survival without puncturing my lungs and drowning in my own blood. The corridor must have continued to the cafeteria, but the path was lost for whatever reason.  I observed a large and evident archway on the other side of the blockade, boarded up tightly with planks of wood.  This activity must have been undertaken somewhere during Mount Missives operation, the wood was aged and I couldn’t see the survivors of Murkoff going to this much trouble to fit the boards so tightly together if they were in a panic.  A simple but crude barricade, evidence that even before Murkoff’s influence, Mount Massive was shady and cruel in its own methods. The baths were in the next room on the right, as indicated by the plate beside the open door.  I peered around the corner to view rows of tubs for patients, several had decaying slings attached to a weighted arm mechanism beside them.  For lobotomized patients?  The thought caused my stomach to lurch, I’m sure there were a few even before Murkoff took over. A few tubs in I spotted one of the patients doing… something, I’m not sure I wanted to know what.  He looked distracted enough, I just needed to get by without agitating him. The storm had calmed to some degree, allowing light to seep through the muggy glass from nearby rooms, and perhaps the outside lamps.  I’m not entirely sure where from, didn’t care too much either if it meant saving my batteries.  I secured the camera long before I reached the man, but he raised his head and gave me some brief attention while he did… whatever he was doing.  It appeared he was bathing a corpse. “Hushaby, you’ll have your turn.”  He sounded feminine, I guess.  Or he wanted to?  I decided not to record this.  This was right on that list of most bizarre and/or disturbing things I have witnessed yet in this place. The corpse was in what might’ve been water at some point, but it was dark crimson and bloated with blood clots.  The patient gently rubbed his shoulders and scooped ‘water’ over his chest.  “There you go.  We clean your belly, clean your arms.  Every little crevice until we find that key.”  I fought not to make any sudden movements, hasten my pace or stutter as I passed him.  “I know one of you babies has it.  There you go, shh, shhh.” He was preoccupied, and he was clothed.  That was good enough. The tubs along the wall were filled with blood, body parts.  Others appeared to have been out of commission, with an oily black tarp laid over the sides to prevent use.  A body lay in one, black blood dried along the sides and a twisted expression of agony in his eyes.  His mouth was wide open and his tongue swollen black and his remaining teeth cut into the parched flesh.  Someone that didn’t want a bath?  I was utterly shocked by what was in the last tub I passed.  Actual water.  I couldn’t explain why, but the very sight of it filled me with horror. Maybe I was becoming so desensitized to the carnage, something so remedial reminded me of the earlier hours of my day.  Holding intelligent conversations with semi-conscious human beings, or the recollection that there would be - WOULD BE - a life after this.  Once I was out, I could resume a normal lifestyle.  Put a fuck lot of distance between my remaining psyche and Colorado, retire, and live on the earnings of my story. But the nights.  And the dark.  I shuddered. I knew without a doubt I’d wake up in the middle of the night shrieking, horrified by the shadows running up the walls.  My heart racing in my chest and the memories of this place - hiding in the corners and wondering if the creature stalking through the black shadows would find me.  Would I be fast enough to keep away from it?  And when I woke up, was I truly awake, or was I dreaming I had awoken safe in bed?  Then feel the same raw terror as Chris suddenly appeared beside me, face cut back in a cruel grin with eyes dead and murky gleaming with malice.  The repugnance in that sneer as those skeletal fingers reached for my throat. I’m an investigative reporter, always, ALWAYS willing to risk my neck getting the stories no one in their right mind would dare touch.  I’d done some pretty reckless and dangerous stunts in my career, interviewed people that wouldn’t think twice to gut me on the spot to save face.  Goaded suspects without a care what they might do if witnesses were not present.  The thrill excited me, I needed the challenge, I couldn’t accept a job that wouldn’t reciprocate the kind of work I was willing to put into the means of acquiring the evidence. Political corruption, corporate wrongdoing, Christ, I even interviewed a sick monster of a man that had described his sadistic cult brutally raping women before cutting them into pieces and burning the bodies to conceal the evidence – in their mind, if it no longer existed you couldn’t prove a fuckin thing. All of these stories I had collected and sold, them and dozens more.  All for my rent, car payments, bills.  Months of data retrieval, sifted into a feasible document that could be distributed to the masses, so they could read and feel and learn what terrible things the world had hidden.  The horrible things happening behind their backs when they weren’t looking, what they willingly ignored so they could lead an honest life.  Then turn around and pity the people that had endured this shit, and in the same conversation forget them altogether and return to their lives, to their reality.  While multitudes of people still suffered to the corporate hog that profited off their blood and sweat.  Profited from their voice unheard. Then.  Here I am in one of the worst fuckin places in the world, fighting to get out of this little hellhole that Murkoff had burned into the planet.  And I was feeling it.  I was experiencing the horrors our little side of paradise could muster, the unspoken cruelty hitched to people forgotten to the world.  People brutalized, mutilated, and experimented on for the curiosity of a man already long dead.  And I was cracking under the strain of it all. Lightening flashed outside, bring me back to this place, back to here.  I looked at the tub of water, dirty with grime but it was still water.  I took a slow breath and turned to the room, lit with the soft glow of a light.  Just a light somewhere above, I didn’t see. The room was a disappointment.  A plate by the frame read Sprinkler Valve, and inside was a large pump that must have controlled the distribution of water in this section.  I didn’t bother shutting the door as I met the valve and twisted it, the sharp hiss of air being forced from the pipes.  It gave a low rattle and I waited dully for whatever may happen, but the noise passed and a low burble vibrated from within the walls.   I backed away towards the door, instead bumped into the wall beside the frame and dropped to my seat.  I drew my knees up, my body began to quiver and I took in a small breath as I felt tears spill down my face.  I hated this place.  I hated this fuckin place so much.  I pressed a palm against my eyes trying to calm down, but everything was so messed up right now.  Had to get out.  That’s all I needed to do.  Get out with everything I have, and bury these bastards far in the hell they devised. How long had that been my sole mission?  Too long, I recalled.  A new wave of helplessness surged through me and I choked a bit as I took another sharp breath.  The moisture stung the sensitive remains of my ring finger, and I cowered down under the crushing blow of humiliation. Miles.  I won’t die here.  I can’t die here.  I took a deep breath and focused on that odd tickle in my side.  I refuse to die. The fire still consumed the Asylum, I had to keep moving.  There was no argument in the matter, I was not going to wallow and let death take me at its leisure.  I rubbed my collar at my face and got up off my ass.  As I hurried through the baths I kept on the furthest side of the tile wall. “No complaining now, we have to wash every little part.”  I picked up the pace.  “Who’s a clean baby?  Who’s a clean baby?  You are….” There was no sign of the big fucker on the other side of the barrier.  He was probably just in the other room, doing his stalking thing.  If I darted past there he would see me and give chase, and I had no idea where I would go after that.  Most the barricades were set up to keep him out, I could always come back to this side.  Not a good plan B, he’d know I was right here with no other option but to eventually crawl back out.  In the meantime the fire swarmed on. Just had to find a fool proof plan A.  I slipped out and crouched low crawling on the floor to the doorway I had come through.  Through the NV I couldn’t see him in the hall across where the light didn’t reach, didn’t hear him wandering nearby either.  I peered around the doorframe, he wasn’t there. He had to be somewhere, the big fucker wouldn’t just take off.  Unless he knew I had left this area, he would hunt around until he found me.  Somehow he knows where I am, suspects where I’ve gone but he doesn’t know for certain.  My only edge was his doubt. I finally realized the light I was standing beside cast a huge shadow on the wall behind me, so if Chris were somewhere it wasn’t in that room.  I kept low as I snuck by the cracked frame, to an open doorway at the other end. It was a set of double doors, one door was crushed into the room.  I tried the handle of the other out of curiosity to confirm, previously these doors were locked.  I entered into another office area, separated into smaller cubicle sections.  The walls crossing the room fashioned after the same glassed in design prominent in this section of the Asylum.  Long wooden counters boxed in the right side of the room where I entered from, shelves lining the walls within had been stuffed with moth eaten files and books.  At least one desk was set up in each cube, the drab glean of the still functioning monitors barely cut into the dark room. I toggled between the nightvision, and whatever light was coming through the windows on the left hand side of the room.  I didn’t want to get stuck someplace without batteries again if I could help it.  I did manage to stumble when a box of files caught my foot, completely missed as I scanned over the cracked office windows.  I passed through a doorway into the other half of the room, finding more of the same, nothing useful aside from some lockers and empty boxes and files lost on the floor.  I scattered a few with my foot, but didn’t go through them.  At the worst possible time, the big fucker would find me.  I needed to pay attention. Though I did stop as I passed by a desk and found a blood blotched body curled up beneath, a camera in his hand.  I knelt and slipped the device free of the stiff grip and checked for batteries.  There were two, but I pondered the camera a moment.  What was he hanging onto this for?  Evidence?  It was broken, I couldn’t find out what happened in his last moments.  But a dial on the top I could just make out, it had the usual features and one I was accustomed to using.  The nightvision. This seemed pretty straight forward, so I left the body to resume my own survival. There was still no sign of the big fucker as I wandered to the hall on my left, to a light source that looked promising.  I kept checking the office on the other side, where the bodies sat idly around a bucket of blood.  I reached the corner of the first hall I entered from, and glanced around the side just as the big fucker stepped out from a doorway.  I took a quick step back and lowered my camera, hoping he’d not see me. “Little ghost….” He hummed, as he entered the corridor after me.   I hastened to back away, until he flew into a sudden dash.  I pivoted and retreated to the office area, a draft glanced across my back as I picked up speed.  I was barely an arm’s length out of his reach and the grating sounds of his breath were too close, much too close.  I brought up my camera and shot around the corner, nearly flying into the locked door in the hall.  Chris hollered out as he smashed into the door at full force, it felt like the whole building shook with the collision.  I nearly lost my footing as result but that could have been the shock. The counter was on my direct right, I hoisted over and spun about as I retreated a few steps.  Chris entered the room and cast his eyes around, it didn’t take long for him to locate me just standing there staring back.  He heaved his girth over the top, simultaneously I sprang over the opposite side and took a route through the back half of the office through the white light cutting through the windows. “It’ll hurt just for a second….”  The feeble wood quaked under his heavy boots as he cut the distance.  I weaved around desks glancing over my shoulder, the chains caught about his wrists glint oddly in the soft glow of the screens we passed.  His fingers twitched as he raised his arms, briefly reminding me of the pain they inflicted when he struck me in the sewers. As I took a sharp turn around the edge of a door, I caught the frame in my left hand and let myself twist about nearly falling to my side.  Chris kept going, trying to pivot about just as fast and slipped on his bloodied boots.  Some furniture crashed as he slid into it and a flash blinded me momentarily, from a broken monitor knocked off the desk.  As he struggled to get up after me, I pulled myself through the door and retraced my steps out of the room.  A sharp pain pulsed up my forearm, I didn’t know if I pulled something or tore it.  Didn’t have time to give a damn. I didn’t know where to go, he knew I was here and would be hunting my location.  There were scarce few spaces I could hide in unless I huddle in the shadows, praying his patrolling sweeps didn’t stumble upon me.  I could outrun him, but that wasn’t a solid plan.  More desperation than calculation, it nearly cost my life once.  A few seconds, I had a few seconds before he honed in on my direction.  I needed more time to figure out what should be done next.  I really didn’t have a clue. I found myself back beside the room he had emerged from.  This might throw him off, this might buy a few precious seconds.  It was a high risk gamble, but I wanted to take it for no other reason than to satisfy some sick yearning I had to shirk him.   I slammed the door behind me and sprint to the back of the room, where the lockers were concealed by dark shadows.  On either side of the wall sat tables and laundry baskets, abandoned with patients uniforms still inside.  Rather trap myself in a locker, I ducked under a table at the side as the door buckled, splintered, and crashed open.  I froze up immediately, though still out of breath from the running and the panic.  I carefully lowered the camera to my knuckles and stuffed my face against my stiff collar.  The strong scent of blood hit me and I realized my shoulder had been bleeding bad since Trager hit me with the shears. In all the anxiety, I had totally missed it until now. My eyes locked on Chris as he wandered into the room, he paused near the middle and made the soft sniffling sounds as he tried to track me.  I can’t understand how this was possible, he didn’t have a nose.  I swallowed and fought with my desire to lower down just a little, I was poised on my hands and knees stock still and felt all for the world exposed.  If I shifted, breathed, if I blinked he’d hear and be on me before the realization could process.  I was cornered, unless he was flabbergasted momentarily by my audacious concealment attempt. But he diverted into the next room, and searched that area thoroughly before he returned to reevaluate this room.  Without a doubt I was here, he just hadn’t found me yet.  My breath hitched as he turned to the lockers and made his way towards me.  Try not to cough, try not to breathe, don’t even think.  I shut my eyes and listened as his heavy steps moved right next to me and stopped.  Was he facing me, or was he still staring at the lockers?  Don’t tense, don’t move.  I squeezed my eyes tighter and clenched my jaw.  His labored breath was amplified beside my ear. A locker door flung open and after a pause shut gently.  I waited, holding my breath till my sides ached and my eyes watered.  Just a little longer.  Hang in there Miles.  He’ll leave.  He’ll leave. The other locker snapped open and after a moment, shut as softly as the first.  A tense moment passed as the silence held, was he scanning over the walls now?  What was he thinking?  He knew I was here, he just didn’t know where.  From the position he stood, was I visible under the table?  Just leave damn it.  Go stalk somewhere else.  I promise you, I’m not here. Finally, his boots scraped over the broken tile as he turned.  I choked back a thin whine. “Fuck.”  His steps grew distant and the rattle of chains departed my senses.  Soon the room was silent and calm. I took a deep breath through my collar and winced, terrified he’d charge back in after hearing that subtle gasp.  My hand shifted on the floor, and I realized I had it in a puddle of something.  I was afraid to look, but I wanted to make sure it wasn’t what I thought it was. It was.  The remains of my ring finger had torn back when I caught the door frame, and blood collected on the floor under me.  I wrapped my arms around me as the quivers began through my body without restraint.  As I was pulling myself out from under the table, the adrenalin poisoning caught up to me and I buckled forward vomiting onto the floor.  So much for the granola bar. It took a few minutes to get myself under control.  I spat out the taste and staggered forward, catching myself on some washer vats before I could fall to heaving again.  Focus Miles, focus.  Where was I?  Laundry room.  No way out but the broken door.  Was there anything I could use in here? I took the door on the right, where Chris had searched for me.  Shelves piled with sheets, some tools and boxes.  The only light above didn’t reach the other side of the room, which was a black shadow that looped around the center shelf.  The connecting closet had more to offer, a water line with a valve to turn.  If there was enough water pressure in the system at this point, I could activate the sprinkles and put out the kitchen.  I’d rather let this place turn to cinder, I’m sure that patient would too, but I needed to get out first. I turned the valve, then spun away to leave the room.  I paused briefly and peeked around the doorframe, meeting eyes with Chris on his return search.  He gave a snarl and lunged, I nearly backpedaled away before I recalled the room was a small water closet.  I dove forward on my initial path, he trudged into the room swiping out as I ducked down into the shelving space.  I snatched a nearby laundry basket to pull between us, and tumbled backwards when my heel caught my foot.  He tried to kick it aside, but the linen sides absorbed the shock and the basket tipped over rather comically.  Outraged he hauled it up and threw it my way, as I pulled myself up and wound around the shelf.  The basket cracked against the wall and dropped to the floor.  It would have been silly, if that ugly bastard wasn’t crushing it underfoot in his frenzy to reach me. I dashed around the shelf and out the door, moving smoothly through the next room as Chris took up the chase.  I was still shaken from the last encounter, but it felt like my feet were flying across the floor, I felt so light headed.  Which way was it to the cafeteria?   A plate on the wall clarified my direction, I was on the wrong side of the hall with the fallen lamps.  I twisted and lunged through the watch room, barely raising my camera to see as I was clearing the shadows of the lite corridor.  A left here, into the sprinkler room, or whatever it was.   Chris was right behind me. I cleared the doorframe and spun about, throwing the flimsy door against the approaching behemoth.  When it cracked shut in the frame I threw myself against the wood, with some insane notion I could hold off the wall of rage and muscle about to tear through.  Chris collided with the door at full force, throwing me off backwards.  I stared up as the frame cracked, jammed in place.  But it wouldn’t hold for long.  I cradled the camera to my chest and stood examining the closet over. Tiny space, two fuckin lockers.  Bad.  Bad.  Fuckin bad!  I was trapped in here with that big fucker, while he clawed through the only exit.  Hide in a locker?  He wouldn’t fall for that twice. The door whined in its hinges, for a splint second his eyes were visible through the cracks. Now.  I had to do something, maybe stupid, it couldn’t wait.  Time was against me.  I punched the button, relieved that the sprinklers did come on and that I had achieved something after all of this.  The door splint inward, and Chris howled in frustration.  It made my blood run cold, or that was the cold water soaking my coat and face. Think Miles.  There was a way out of this, there had to be a way.  I was over thinking the situation, but it was impossible to focus with the door giving under each shattering blow delivered without remorse.  The big fucker wouldn’t spare a moment to consider my death when he ripped my head off.  He wouldn’t even pause.  Had to move, had to run, had to rely on my instincts.  That alone was all I had in this room.  I crouched low by the door and tucked the camera under my coat.  I would need it soon. The door crumpled inward, Chris burst in, and I ducked right out.  Right by the back of his bloodied legs, he hadn’t noticed my absence yet.  The gushing shower cloaked most of my heavy breathing, the water so thick I was inhaling it.  I sped around the next corner and found light illuminating the gap I first entered though.  The cafeteria was not far from here. The scent of sodden wood hit me, and black smoke rolled out from the upper frame of the open door.  I remember leaving it closed, but this could mean the patient had left.  He was the only surviving person in that room.  The scorched Murkoff staff met my gaze as I turned the camera through the gloom.  I tried to cover it with my other hand as the water fell in torrents, the cold drops aggravated the freshly ripped tissue but I pressed on.  It must’ve been the earliest design for emergency sprinklers, or the heads themselves were damaged from years of neglect.  Probably a little of both.  The flow was beginning to lessen as I navigated the dark room. Thick gray smog filled the ceiling and the room was thick with steam, the violent clash of frigid water and the inferno.  Some of the wood persisted to smolder angrily with embers, refusing to douse despite the thick river washing over its surface.  I tucked my face into my collar and made my way around the tables and under a shelf, keeping my gaze locked on the soft gleam of the kitchen.  My goal.  The place where Trager had picked me up. Best event of the day, watching that fucker die.  Could almost be better than getting out, considering I wouldn’t have good memories tied to this place.  Aside from Trager’s death.  I gave the entrance a scan before entering fully.  The same countertops and pots were visible, the shelves, all of it was here.  I barely remembered this place, but I did recognize the shapes.  Shelves for stacking trays, I mused.  That made sense.  And there was the dumbwaiter I naively crawled into to escape the variants.  It hurt to recall these events and I was reminded that on my camera, the entire sequence had been captured.  At the moment it saved my life, I didn’t want to admit it but…I would’ve died in that room.  No doubt.  One thing always led to— Two face lunged out at me with a shriek, grabbing me by the NECK!  I couldn’t shake his arms off without risking my camera, so I just slapped him with my bloody hand.  It took a few jabs until I finally just struck him with my palm, causing him to stagger backwards.  I shoved him away and drew back, freezing in the same instant as he leapt at me with another caterwaul.  He knocked me flat on my back before skipping over my face and out of sight. Fourth Rule.  Maybe that should have been the first rule. He slammed the doors after him.  At least he didn’t hit me with something painful, but my heart was still pounding in my chest.  God damnit, putting out that fire must’ve really pissed him off. The danger had passed for the moment, needed to keep moving and put this place behind me.  The kitchen looked normal enough, for a horror movie.  Long metal countertops were situated at the rooms center, stoves lined the surrounding walls, and pans dangled off racks hung from the ceiling.  And a patients body chopped into sections, on one of the island countertops. I was tempted by the provided arsenal to begin tearing through the drawers and cabinets, hunting for a large knife or selecting one of the numerous skillets dangling from the racks.  But I remembered the MHSs’ dying words to me, as though he were haunting me this very moment.  …can’t fight them…have to hide…  It would help me in no way to threaten mentally disturbed people, they probably wouldn’t even realize I’ve caved their skull in with a pot while they carved a knife through my chest.  Guns did no good, what hope did I have with a knife?  I’d survived so far, that was more than the tactical cops could say for themselves. Tempting, terribly temping, but more harm would come of it.  I walked around the table, towards a door on the other side of the wall.  I opened it slowly and peered inside.  Looked like a small preparation lounge for the staff, I deduced they didn’t do a lot of cooking.  A few microwaves had been stationed on the counter.  And a bloody bowl. I sighed as I approached the bar and raised my camera. “I’ve said it before, but fuck this place.  I’ve still got those fingers left.” Small blessings.  I didn’t bother to date the note, just put it away and shut the door.  Not a lot to say about this room, no valves or levers or buttons.  Just some overturned shelves crammed in the doorway at the back, a few boxes of canned goods scattered on the floor.  A small closet on the right had shelves stacked with more cans, stuff you get at your local grocer. I pulled out a few marked cocktail fruits and another of green beans, peas, things with pop tops.  I drained a bit of the fluid out of each and dumped the contents into my mouth.  I wasn’t big on canned stuff, Alzheimer’s caused by the lead in cans and that sort of thing, but fuck that, I’m hungry. The echo of a shriek came from the other side of the door.  I paused to listen, then picked up the camera and crept back into the pantry.  I had one last can of chunky soup before I pushed the door open and paused at the kitchen, straining to pick out any other hostile noises on the other side.  It might’ve been my imagination, or the floor above.  There was no other sound beyond the door, so I opened it a crack and scanned the room over.  The main doors were still shut.  That didn’t set me to ease like it should, but that was about the limit of reassurance I was going to get. I gave the bowl of fingers one last look, before shutting the door and searching for the way to the elevator. It was easy to find, just had to turn left from the dumbwaiter and retrace the steps Trager had taken.  I found the boarded up door, and yes, it was locked.  The carpet wasn’t carpet, it was ugly wood floorboards that were older than the tomb of Ramesses.  My memory was a little fuzzy, I didn’t remember passing through a doorframe to get out of the hall, but the elevator was right there. I went over and looked up at the lift, where it was stuck.  In the end, it had been worth it to see that sick fucker die. I turned away and there, straight ahead, was the exit.  In big, bold, red letters.   Father Martin was waiting for me out there.  I was in no hurry to stroll on out head first, and stumble into worse nightmares than what the Asylum offered.  I took my time reaching the gaping doorway trying to see past the rain and gloom, trying to find shapes that might be waiting. And as I brought up my camera, I did see a shape huddled up in the branches.  I backpedaled from the mist and sprang through the nearest doorway.  What the fuck was that?  It sounded like something hissed at me, or yowled, something between the two sounds.  I wasn’t sure what to make of it, only that it frightened me.  Was that a shadow in the blaze of lightening? I was just being an idiot.  There was nothing out there but a crazy ‘Priest’ guy, and that was scary on its own.  It could have been him, I just imagined the sound with the rain and thunder.  I was terrified enough to imagine those sort of things, the Asylum was always emitting horrifying sounds that were not a figment of my imagination, I was just accustomed to being jumpy at every little creak. I tried to calm myself and glanced over the office I had hidden in.  At the end more files had been scattered under a cheerful lamp, one read Confidential.  I passed by some spazzed out monitors to reach the lone desk, and flipped through the pages. MKULTRA program, CIA MORI doc no. 140401, pp. 1, 5, 9, excerpts  To: File  Subject: Special Research, Bluebird  I. General Problem  For the past several months Bluebird has been endeavoring to ascertain by research, study, instruction and some practice what value (if any) can be derived from SI (Sleep Instruction) and H (Hypnotic) techniques when applied to war and specific Agency problems.  3. Can we create by post-H control an action contrary to an individual’s basic moral principles?  7. Can we guarantee total amnesia under any and all conditions?  8. Can we “alter” a person’s personality? How long will it hold?  17. What are full details on a “sleep-inducing machine. This was the hypnotic sleep system they were trying on those two patients.  Hijacking peoples brains to make them perform functions they wouldn’t normally undertake in a lucid state of mind.  This was scary stuff, if you thought about it.  The military finding ways to reprogram people to perform certain functions, or find out how far they could go with completely reformatting a person’s mind, and inducing amnesia in their subjects.   Which brings to light one of my original questions.  Had Murkoff been trying to ‘cure’ the patients for further experimentation?  It didn’t make sense to perform all this ‘dream’ therapy on mentally disturbed people.  That would be the equivalent of experimenting without a control group.  What had they been trying to achieve here?  Had the patients been a more suitable candidate than those with a solidly fixed and sane state of mind? A starting ground, perhaps?  Make mentally unstable people believe God exists, make them feel he exists and see where that goes.  It’s been the oldest belief of mankind, to the beginning of history man had a deep rooted desire to believe a higher entity was true and responsible for mortal man’s fate, and bring others to share the dream.  Through fear and devotion, belief could drive a man to do anything, even kill his own son. If so, it might’ve worked too well.  One question that dismantles this theory though.  In the security room, what did I witness kill the tactical cops?
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groundzerobakugo · 6 years ago
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Hunter Hawks with ex-girlfriend/reader and they continuously "battle" each other a lot even though it just ends with a lot of ~~~~ feelings? Bring on the tension!
  hmmmm yes pls!! you got it anon!
...
  you grinned as you followed the poor soul out of the bar and down the dark alleyway; there was a dry tickle in the back of your throat, and your body hummed at the thought of finding such easy prey. it was always best when your victims were drunk, you even got a little bit of alcohol in your system from it, one of the few ways a vampire could feel a buzz.
  the world blurred as you appeared right behind the poor stranger, and you tapped his shoulder. “hey, good looking,” you smirked.
  the man turned, a sloppy grin on his face as he saw you.
  “looking for a good time?” your voice coming out like soft velvet to his ears; it eased the stranger into a false sense of ease. you were quick to pin him to the wall, lips on his in an instant. you could taste the booze on his tongue as you slipped the paralyzing toxins into his system, making quick work to disable your victim. the man slumped with lidded eyes trained on you.
  “gonna-gonna fuck me?” he asked in a weak voice.
  your lips quirked upwards, “sorry, you’re just a meal.”
  “wh-what?”
  the sharp canines stretched past your lips, and you tilted the man’s head, attaching the fangs to his neck. you greedily gulped down the sweet blood, unaware of a third party entering the alleyway as the booze-infused blood muddled with your head. it was only a slight buzz, but just like humans, an empty stomach never did well with alcohol.
  you shrieked as you were pulled by by your hair, the man you were previously feeding on collapsing onto the concrete floor. you whipped around, trying to push your attacker away but they caught your fist. bright, golden irises locked eyes with your reddened glare.
  “lookie here, i’ve caught a little field mouse,” he grinned. his wings were folded neatly behind his back, but you caught the slight twitch of his feathers.
  “hawks,” you snarled.
  it was the cliched story of hunter-turned-into-hunted. you and hawks had met through the endeavor hunting agency, and within a year, you two blissfully fell in love. but hawks’d angered one of the most powerful vampires in the district when he killed his lover. in turn, the vampire had turned you into one of his own in retaliation. it was now a game to the hunter, of hawk and field mouse in his words.
  the winged hunter’s lips drooped into a small frown upon seeing your red-stained lips, the blood splattered on your chin and dress. “you’ve made a mess of yourself, haven’t you?” his thumb wiped at your bottom lip.
  “let go of me,” you growled, and your butt hit the concrete as he did what you asked.d
  “there’s a bounty on your head, you know,” hawks replied, his boot-clad footsteps echoing about the small alleyway as he circled you. “they say you’re an insatiable beast.”
  you snorted and got back on your feet, the bloodlust haze fading away with each passing moment, along with your buzz. “well? if you’re here to kill me, i’ll make it easy on you. my heart’s right here.” you motioned to the left side of your chest and shut your eyes in wait.
  there was a soft sigh, and even though you felt the tip of his stake on your chest, it never pierced the skin.
  you cracked an eye, “what are you waiting for, hawks?”
  his golden hues met your natural (eye color) ones. his lips quirked up. “not yet, i think i’ll play with you a little longer.”
  you smirked, and not even a half a second longer, you had the dirty blond pressed against the wall; your forearm was pressed against his chest, and with the closeness, you could hear the sweet, melodious rush of blood in his veins.
  “you’re a fool, you know that?” your breath fanned over his neck as your elongated canines hovered over the supple skin.
  “am i?” he grinned.
  you jumped back as you felt the searing hot burn of silver touching your bare skin, and you hissed at the man in front of you, fangs bared.
  “you’re too cute,” he mused. he ran at you, a stake in hand. the point caught your arm as you lifted it to block, the wood sticking out of your skin.
  with a snarl, you removed the stake; it clattered against the floor. blood dribbled down your arm and dripped onto the concrete with a sickening plip-plop. you charged, dodging the silver and shoved the hunter against a wall. “when will you learn you can’t win this? just leave it alone,” you sneered.
  footsteps echoed from the mouth of the alley, and you lifted your head.
  “looks like i better go, but say hi for me.”
  hawks watched with a chuckle as your form disappeared into the night. he would never admit it aloud, but he liked the game he had with you.
  you always hated daylight; how the sun made your skin itch and your eyes hurt from the brightness. sunglasses were perched on the bridge of your nose as you walked down the street, hands in your pockets and feet kicking a small pebble. it had been weeks since you last fed, especially since you were now rumoured to be an insatiable beast. the human side of you ached with the title, and you couldn’t bring yourself to feed with the horrid realization, even if it wasn’t true. but, it was dangerous to go without a source of nutrients for so long. you had to endure, though. no matter how weak you felt.
  you doubted the hunters would really be out during the day; they had almost become nocturnal like most vampires. but, with you only being a newborn, two year old vampire, you were still used to your human biological clock and went to bed at the sane time of midnight (at the latest).
  the birds seemed to quiet down as you passed them. various plaques and tombstones stood out from the ground, and you glanced at them and their dying flowers.
  the cemetery was empty, like usual, and the sun was beginning to set overhead, casting an eerily glow about the place. hardly anyone visited their dead loved ones as of late, but there was one grave you constantly stopped by to visit--your own. after the agency had found out you’d been turned into a vampire, they had conducted a fake funeral in your honor; hawks’ idea. you had thanked him in your first post-turn run in with him, for giving your family a chance to grieve over the loss of their daughter.
  you crouched down beside your tombstone and fingered the engraving.
  here lies (last name, first name); beloved daughter and friend to all.
  below it laid the dates of your birth and rumoured death.
  there was a bouquet of white carnations, wilting away with each day. a flower that represented remembrance, ones you knew that your mother had left you a week and a half ago.
  “not in the mood,” you mumbled and stood up. you had heard the slight flutter of wings behind you, and you turned to see the winged hunter. “please, hawks, not today.”
  the man stared at you curiously, peering around to see your tombstone behind you. he’d followed you to the cemetery, unsure of what business you held in a place full of buried corpses. “not so ferocious during the day, huh?” his lips quirked upwards.
  your lips pressed into a line. “perhaps you didn’t hear right. not in the mood.” 
  you attempted to pass him, but you were pulled back by your wrist. “i don’t think that’s up to you to decide. besides, i need to talk to you, baby bird.”
  you tried to ignore the flutter in your cold, undead heart at the old pet name. “fine, but-but don’t call me that.”
  the two of you walked together, and hawks mindlessly made a few comments about the engravings on tombstones and the weather. when you were human, his constant small talk was one of the things you adored. the two of you balanced each other out; he was always the talkative one, and you would input a few words here and there, but you loved to hear his voice as he explained the cases he was working on or just mindless chatter about a reality tv show he watched earlier in the day. right now, though, it irked you.
  “get to the point, hawks,” you grumbled.
  after you’d turned, you’d began to hate the carefree nature of the man you once loved and still loved. he acted so casually about everything that had happened, it was like he tried to act as though you were still human--even if he was constantly hunting you down and interrupting your feeding times.
  “you haven’t been eating, have you?”
  hawks let his words hang in the air. it wasn’t so much of a question, but a careful observation. you had stopped in your tracks, looking like a deer in the headlights. his golden eyes watched you carefully, just as they had been for the past few weeks. it seemed as though every patrol he went on, he always found himself watching you.
  “baby bird?” he took a step towards you.
  the corner of your eye caught the movement, pulling you from your trance. you took a defensive pose. “i told you not to call me that,” you snapped. you lunged and successfully tackled the winged hero to the ground. “so don’t. i’m not the same as i was, i’m not that human girl you fell in love with. so quit calling me what you called her.”
  he was quick to shove you off of him, and he drew a feathered sword. the blade was angled to you neck, and you gulped. “no, but i still love her. and i still love you.”
  your breath hitched. “no, you don’t.”
  “no? then, why else do we keep playing this game?” he replied. “i could have killed you awhile back, i could kill you right now. but i didn’t, and i won’t.”
  hawks’ feathers ruffled as you appeared at his side in an instant. a small trail of blood came from your neck where the feathered blade had nicked the skin. once again, he found himself with your fangs at his neck. the sharp points dragged against his flesh, but you never applied enough pressure to draw blood.
  you hovered for a moment before you backed off. “you stupid birdbrain,” your voice was soft as it reached his ears. “i could kill you in an instant.”
  “but you won’t,” his cocky grin etched across his face.
  “you’re the one who says i haven’t been--” a gasp fell from your lips as you felt an arrow pierce your side. reddened eyes turned to look behind your shoulder, and you noticed the shadow of endeavor. you whipped around to face hawks, his golden eyes just as wide with surprise as yours.
  his fingers gentle grazed over the sharp point of the arrow, and he clenched his jaw, looking past you and glaring at his childhood hero. with a weak whimper, you slid the arrow out of your torso. if you had been feeding properly, this would have healed in no time. but, as hawks had observed, you hadn’t been. it didn’t help, either, that it was coated in silver.
  another arrow whizzed past you, and hawks shielded you with a single wing, redirecting it with a single gust of wind from his other wing. in an instant, the two of you were airborne, flying across the city to where you suspected was hawks’ little hideout. when you were human, he’d taken you there only a handful of times, mostly when he needed space from the world and to get stuff of his chest. it was private and secluded, just a small rooftop where the air was thing.
  his feet hit the rooftop, and he gently laid you down against the three-foot ledge.
  “baby bird?” his warm hands cupped your cheek, and you cracked an eyelid at the man crouched before you. “it’s healing, right?”
  you gritted your teeth. “no. i-it won’t. it’s fine.” you pressed your hand against your side, hissing in pain.
  “why won’t it heal?” he asked, his words rushed with his panic. sure, he hunted you down here and there, but it was all in good fun. he would never actually kill you, he didn’t actually want you to die. he loved you once, and he still did.
  “don’t-don’t ask a question you al-already know the answer to,” you mumbled.
  “so, you need to feed then, right? you just need blood.”
  “i’m n-not drinking from you,” you coughed. “no-normally i can control myself, b-but i don’t th-think i can. not after g-going so long without ea-eating.”
  but hawks flashed you that award-winning smile of his, the cocky one you’d come to love in past years, the one that made your heart soar over the moon. “i’ll be fine, baby bird. i’ll even make it easy for you.” he pulled the knife from his belt and made a small cut on the palm of his hand.
  “wh-what--” a sweet scent permeated the air around you, and you felt your stomach clench at the smell. “n-no, birdbrain, if i--”
  “you won’t,” he replied.
  but you shook your head with wide eyes trained on the trail of blood dribbling down his hand and down his arm. “ha-hawks....”
  he rolled his eyes and lapped up a few drops from his own hand, turning to you with a wide grin. “try not to have too much fun with this.”
  and this his lips were on yours, and you could feel his tongue push through, the muscle coated with the metallic twang of blood. you tried to resist, but as it entered your system, you could feel the ache in your abdomen begin to fade. you moved by instinct, hands gripping hawks’ shoulders and you sank your teeth into his neck, disregarding the hiss of pain from his mouth.
  you drank greedily, as though you would never get a chance to drink again. your ex-boyfriend’s blood was so sweet. you could remember after you’d turned, how you distanced yourself before you hurt him. how the secret you tried to hide leaked after you’d taken your hunger out on a trainee.
  but as the reality sank back into your bones, and you felt your strength return, you back off with teary eyes. “hawks?” your red eyes searched his golden hues to make sure he was alright.
  hawks felt his eyelids droop, and he laughed softly. “told you... you’d stop... baby bird.”
  you sighed, nuzzling your head against his chest as he brought a wing around you, “stupid birdbrain. that was reckless, even for you.”
  “as long as... you’re okay,” he mumbled, the smile still on his lips. “i love you, baby bird.” he hummed as he felt your tongue make a quick swipe over the punctures on his neck.
  “they’ll scab over soon,” you replied. “i... i don’t think you’ll be allowed back at the agency.”
  “no, i don’t think so,” he laughed. “i’d be charged with treason. but... as long as i have you again, i think i can manage.”
  you laughed and kissed his lips lazily, “yeah, birdbrain?”
  “yeah, baby bird.”
...
  ......okay maybe i got a little bit carried away but i absolutely loved this and could easily write more for this. but, had to cut it soon anyway since i gotta get ready for work. this was my first hawks request, and i still haven’t gotten to his character in the manga, so i hope i wrote his character okay!
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rabiesram · 7 years ago
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anxiety (fanfic) (freeform)
ech I don't like posting my writing much but I have to come out of my shell eventually I really only do this as a hobby so everything is freeformed and nothing is really ever planned out lmao but getting to the point here; jay in the movie looks so nervous all the time so I thought,,,what if anxiety attacks???? contains massive amounts of brotherly fluff (no shipping)! ///
Jay was doing his regular nightly routine on a Tuesday...scowling around for criminals out in the alleyways of Ninjago City. It wasn't fun at all. Well, at least to Jay. Jay didn't bode well with crowds...especially during the night hours. And there were a lot of crowds at night. He didn't know how to explain why he felt this nervous hatred for it. Just whenever he was stuck in a crowd with no real way out, he couldn't just push his way out or ask people to get out of the way. He had to deal with it because nothing would come out of his throat and his muscles would never act. And dealing with it led to him panicking. Jay didn't know why his heart would jump even at the thought of a large mass of people around him! It just did! Jay huffed and shook his head, trying to get his train of thought on the tracks to something else. He had to focus on his duty as a ninja right now, it was incredibly important to the city that he did this efficiently. Jay took off in a sprint down one of the many alleyways, his eyes darting wall to wall. He needed something to keep his attention on. Before he could actually find anything of interest so he could let his mind wander on other topics, he slid to a stop, finding himself at the entrance of the alleyway. Right in front of him was a parade. It seemed like festival kind of parade with people dressed up with the most incredibly flashy outfits he has seen all year. He was admiring the outfits before something seemed to stab him right in the stomach. He remembered what parades basically were. A huge group of people in one area tightly fitted together to stay on the road. His brown eyes widened and he stepped back. The lights from the festival themed parade grew brighter after he realized this fact, and every voice around him became louder. The cheering of people on the side of the streets, the people walking in the parade singing, everything was so loud. It was getting so intense for Jay. The brunette boy shook his head and grabbed at his hood. "Focus Jay! Focus! You just need to get to the other side of town. It'll be calmer there!" Jay thought back to his mother's words one time he had a similar problem like the one he was currently facing. She always told him to breathe. A long breath in, holding it, and then letting it go through his mouth, as if he was blowing out candles on a birthday cake. Jay attempted to do exactly that; breathing in and out. It took him a few breaths with tightly shut eyes to get his composure back. "Ok...You can scale the building and go over the power lines..." He told himself. He gently opened his eyes, immediately looking at the brick wall across from him to avoid looking at the screaming crowds on the street. Jay knew he could do this. He wasn't going to be a kid and run from his problems. He was going to work through this, even if it killed him. Jay huffed and jumped onto the brick wall with his hands touching the wall first, then his foot. He then leapt to the other wall side using his other foot and still keeping his arms at the ready. He repeated this until he reached the top of the building he was originally looking at. Jay crouched down in the shadows of the rooftop. He needed to make sure that nobody could see him. After he was sure the coast was clear, he stood back up and started a stroll on the top of the building. "Hey, how's the city doing?" A voice yelled out. Jay jumped, his heart skipping a beat. It didn't take him long to realize it was just his communicator that he kept on his wrist. He rolled up his sleeve a bit and brought his wrist up near his face. "It's...busy for sure." Jay answered. "Need any 'backup'?" Jay sighed. "No, no that's not necessary...I-I'll be ok." "Your voice crack says otherwise." "Cole...I can do this!" The communicator went silent for a minute, giving the thought to Jay that Cole must've hung up. "Ok, fine. But the minute something wrong happens, you better call." Jay smirked. "Got it, bro." With his conversation at a end, he tucked his sleeve back into it's original position and stretched his arms out with a heavy sigh. Could he really do this? He shook his head, his brown locks bouncing. He could do this! He almost even slapped himself for being so negative. The teen let his arms fall back to his side as he jogged over to the edge of the building. He crouched at very edge and viewed over the streets. The parade still went on, everyone cheering and screaming in delight of the festivities. Jay frowned and then spotted the power lines over the city. "What a jump! It looks like plain child's play." Jay smiled with a new found confidence blossomed in him. He leapt onto the pole that kept the lines in the air and scurried up it without a second thought. The ninja reached the top and cautiously stood up on it for a second, taking in the jump from line he was about to get onto. It...looked smaller from below. With the mix of his nervousness from earlier, a new fright sprung up into his chest. He was used to falling, yeah, that didn't scare him as much...but falling into a crowd. All of the attention would be on him. Everyone would stop. The entire planet Earth would stop and just stare at him for failing such a easy task. Jay's heart beat sped up. He knew this wasn't good. The teenager attempted to breathe once again, remembering his mother's words that always stuck with him. "Just breathe in..." A long pause. "Hold...!" Another pause. "Andddd out!" His mother's voice kept replaying and replaying in his head. It seemed to grow faster and faster like a movie going at twice the speed it should. His breathing began to get faster as well. The whole world from up high started to twitch to the right, and then to the left. Instantly, he pulled his sleeve back. "Cole. I need to get out of here. It's happening." "On it. Be there in a minute. Sit down until we get there." Beads of sweat trailed down from his forehead as he slowly made his way back down the pole. His whole body began to shiver like he went out into the snow with nothing on but boxers. Jay tried to breathe while he slowly climbed down enough to make it over to the rooftop he previously scouted around. He mis-stepped when he got off the pole and tumbled onto the rooftop. Nothing much came out of his mouth when he tumbled because his throat felt like it was swelling up. The only thing he could manage were a few strained coughs as he put his hands around his neck. He felt like he was about to faint. He couldn't breathe. Tears started pouring out of his eyes in the masses and hit the ground. Even the plip-plop's of his tears sounded like drums in his brain as he cried on the ground. Everything was just...terrible. His muscles tightened as he hugged himself, clenching his teeth. Boy, did we want to go home. --- "We there, Nya?" Kai asked his sister who was piloting the Destiny's Bounty. Nya's focused look turned to Kai. "Just about. Location says he's right over some café in town." Nya replied, eyeing down at the city below. Kai followed her gaze down to Ninjago City. They were closing in near a...parade? Kai sighed with a pinch of anger, stomping his foot on the wood below them. "I shouldn't have sent him out there! This is like...the worse possible place he could've been in!" Kai exclaimed, motioning to the festival below them. Nya frowned. "You didn't know that there's was a parade tonight. Don't beat yourself up. These things happen." She sighed, trying to comfort her older brother. Kai still looked furious with himself. He let his own teammate, no,brother, out in what was probably a nightmare for the electric ninja. Kai groaned and ran his hands through his hair. He hoped that Jay didn't keep this as a grudge against him. "We're here! Everyone set?!" Nya yelled behind her, directing her call to the residents of the ship. Kai and Nya waited for a answer for a solid five seconds before a answer was blurted back out to them. "All ready to go!" --- Jay looked up, his vision still incredibly cloudy from the buckets of tears he was crying. He made out the crimson red dragon head of the Destiny's Bounty. A part of him was incredibly relieved...but another part of him was incredibly worried about showing his face around his team. He didn't like being seen like this. He was weak. Jay sniffled and looked back down at what seemed like a puddle on the ground as the ship stopped in the air and hovered. He heard something being thrown off the ship and a few voices, but he wasn't focusing on them enough to hear what they were actually talking about. Then he heard someone land. "Jay! Jay!" Not a minute later, he felt his shoulders being grabbed by someone. He yipped at this and shut his eyes tight, his shaking increasing. "It's ok, Jay. It's me, Lloyd." With his eyes still tightly closed, he clamped his hands together and debated on if he should open them or not. Maybe it wasn't Lloyd. Maybe it was a snake person with a voice changer hooked up to him to make him sound like Lloyd. The thought of this made Jay give out another cough, forcing his eyes to flutter open anyway. His chocolate brown eyes locked with the blonde's ivy green ones. Yep. It was Lloyd. The real deal. Jay wanted to leap up and tackle Lloyd with a big hug. He was so touched that he came out to get him like this. Jay opened his mouth in a attempt to shout a 'thank you' but his mouth clamped back shut and he fell into another crying fit. "Alright. It's ok tough guy." Lloyd spoke softly. The leader crouched down and put his arm around the fellow ninja. He held him fight and helped Jay step over to the rope. It took a minute, but Lloyd soon got a grip on the rope, as did Jay. Lloyd tugged at the rope, signaling that he was ready to get pulled back up onto the flying ship. The rope, almost instantly, started to slowly work its way off the ground and up into the air. Lloyd kept his attention on Jay and his shaky grip on the rope. "We're almost up. Just hang in there." He spoke, using one of his hands to keep Jay's hand steady. Jay nodded with a sniffle. --- Just about everyone was on the training docks. Everyone except Sensei Wu, who was busy but he had come out earlier to help calm Jay's nerves with some special tea. Lloyd, Kai, Cole, Nya, Zane, and Jay sat around on blankets in a circle. Most of them were talking about stories and the such. Jay and Zane, however, were sitting together. Jay was too shook up to even sit alone, he needed to just be by someone to assure himself that he was safe. It was about a half an hour after Lloyd and Jay had boarded back on the ship, and Jay had calmed down quite a bit. His hands were still shaky as he took small sips of his Sensei's tea. Zane sat by right next to him, as if he was guarding him, with a arm always behind Jay's back. His glowing blue eyes had a certain comfort to them. Probably the fact that they looked like headlights at night and kept out any weird creatures creeping in the darkness really gave Jay a sense of comfort. Well...that's what he thought anyway. "And then bang! Gone! Totally outta the park!" Kai yelled out, throwing his arms into the air. Everyone in the small circle laughed at the ending of Kai's small story about a time he beat a huge skeleton and won. Jay smiled, a few more thoughts beginning to plague his minds. "I take these guys for granted sometimes..." He looked around at everyone. Everyone was so happy and full of life. This was his team. This was his family. This was his true home. The freckled teen gently let his head rest on Zane's shoulder, earning the robot's attention. He closed his eyes and let the sound of Zane's gears run throughout his ears. It was soothing to say the least. It reminded him of the junkyard. "Thank you, brother." He muttered. Zane grinned and patted his brown curls, letting the electric ninja doze off on his shoulder. "Anytime, brother."
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tylerbeyond-blog1 · 8 years ago
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♔♗♚♛♜♝♤ ♧♡♣♥
o ♔ : Finding your muse wearing their clothes
when jung so walked in on tae ho wearing their long, pleated skirt, he really had no explanation. they weren’t supposed to be home. so when they opened the door to the bedroom and spotted him looking at himself in the mirror in their pale grey pleated skirt, all he could think to say was “it’s not what it looks like.” because that’s what everyone said when they got caught doing something they weren’t supposed to be doing.
“it looks like you’re stretching out my skirt.” they said, only slightly amused, leaning against the doorframe. 
tae ho looked down and lifted his shirt.��“no, no, see? it’s on my waist? not stretched!”
they cocked an eyebrow at him, still unimpressed. “let me guess… you thought it would look like a kilt.”
“uh…” he glanced around. “so you’re saying it doesn’t look like a kilt?”
“you’re so fucking stupid.”
♗: Your muse falling asleep with their head in my muse’s lap.
tae ho loved touring. they all did. what wasn’t to love about nearly-all-expense paid roadtrips with your best friends, stopping only to eat crappy fast food and to play music for adoring crowds? nothing. one of the best parts for tae ho was how exhausting it was. even his insomnia didn’t stand a chance. of course, he still didn’t really sleep when he was supposed to, but tae ho almost never did what he was supposed to, anyway.
he stretched across the bench seat in the back of the tour bus, his legs across fang’s lap, his head in jung so’s. he gazed dreamily up at them, a goofy smile on his face. 
“you had one of those brownies cassandra told us not to eat, didn’t you?” they asked, bemused, gently running their fingers through his thick, curls.
tae ho giggled and held up his hand, thumb and forefinger nearly touching. “maybe a little.”
“i think more than a little,” jung so giggled. “idiot.”
tae ho’s eyes fluttered and closed. he sighed, smiling. “no, you.”
♥: Your muse crying about something
the soft tinkling of tin striking tin in a music box filled the tiny room. the soft melody was joined by the plip plip of tears falling onto its small wooden panels. the melody wasn’t finished. they’d never finished it. so this music box wasn’t finished either. still, he wound it up and let it play over, and over, and over again. he lay back on the mattress with no sheets, in a room that was only his, in an apartment that wasn’t theirs.
unfinished was another way of saying not whole. he wasn’t whole. the band was back together, sort of, or at least on the way to being whole. the cracks were still there, and they were deep, but the glue holding them together was starting to set. soon, you might not even tell it was ever broken. the melody ended. he reached for it to wind it up once more. he didn’t hear the door open.
“i... i didn’t make that for you to make you sad.”
tae ho gave a start, nearly dropping the delicate little box. he held it to his chest and looked around. jung so stood in the doorway, looking very small, very fragile, and very broken. he set the singing box on the empty nightstand. “it doesn’t make me sad. i really, really love it. it’s beautiful,” he wiped his face with the seat of his palms.
“you’re crying.”
“no i’m not.”
jung so gave him a withering look. it made him smile for a moment. it was the most normal looking he’d seen them since before they’d left. it didn’t last long. “i’m sorry.”
“i’m... i’m sorry, too.”
tentatively, they approached. tae ho pulled his legs up onto the bed and crossed them. “you... you don’t have anything to be sorry about,” muttered jung so, taking a seat on the mattress beside him. they were careful not to sit too close.
“yes i do. but... let’s. let’s not, okay?” he swallowed, thickly. the music box stopped. the room was silent.
jung so nodded. they reached for the music box. it clicked as they wound it, then it sung. “if you don’t like it, you can tell me.”
“i do like it,” he said, his voice unsteady as tears threatened him again. “i love it, honestly, i promise.” reflexively, he crossed his arms. his hand covered the pinky wear tattoo that peaked out from under his sleeve. “i just... i want to finish this melody.” tae ho never used to be so careful with his words. “think we can finish it?”
but jung so was no fool. they knew that when he asked if they could finish it with tears glittering in his eyes like so many stars in the sky, he was really saying i wish we’d finished it. i wish you’d never left. i wish you hadn’t broken my heart. “i was going to add a note to that,” they lied, “it was gonna say “to be continued.” so, uh, yes, of course we can finish it.”
tae ho wasn’t looking at them, but he was smiling. a couple tears trickled from the corners of his eyes.
jung so raised their hand, then hesitated. they put their hand on his shoulder. he covered it with his own. the music stopped.
♚: Head scratches
“my head hurts,” jung so whined. “pass the joint.” 
tae ho passed them the joint, then took the seat behind them on the couch. they sat on the floor, so he spread his long legs so they could sit between them. 
“what’re you doing?”
“shhh.” tae ho bent and kissed the top of their head. gently, he pulled the elastic out of their hair, freeing their honeyed locks from their ponytail prison. jung so sighed. he saw smoke rising from in front of them. tae ho slipped his rings off and put them on the ash tray on the coffee table before them. unadorned fingers spread over their scalp. they shuddered.
“oh.”
tae ho grinned, massaging their head with long, practiced finger. “dad used to do this for mom. it really helps, dunnit?”
they nodded, relaxing back into the couch. more smoke curled up from their lips. tae ho chuckled. he kissed them again.
♛: Sharing a dessert
tae ho hummed in deep appreciation of the molten chocolate cake placed in front of him. “where’s the ice cream?” he asked, looking around the table for it.
“oops, my bad,” fang pushed it towards him, licking the last bits of vanilla cream from his lips.
snickering, tae ho tipped the small bowl of ice cream into the dish. it mingled with the chocolate fudge sauce that oozed . tae ho reached for his spoon to find it wasn’t there. he looked around in time to catch jung so casually putting a spoonful of cake into their mouth. 
“oy, you said you didn’t want one.” tae ho accused, his face no where near as stern as his voice.
“yeah. cuz i want yours.” 
tae ho laughed, shaking his head. “you’re the worst.”
♜: Shoulder rubs
“oow!” tae ho yelped. 
“sorry not sorry,” jung so said in clipped tones. “you asked for this. you don’t me not to go easy on you.”
“it’s a figure of speech!” he gasped.
“well, you need this, so shut up. jesus, how do end up with knots this big? it’s like you’ve got rocks under your skin.” jung so dug their knuckles painfully into his trapezius muscles. “with all the weed you smoke, i thought you’d be all loose and relaxed.”
“well― ouch― me too, i guess.” he hissed, his fists clenched on his knees.
“my fingers are getting tired. you really need to chill out.” 
through gritted teeth, tae ho replied, “i thought i was!”
“nope. i don’t think you’ll ever find your chill.” they dug their thumbs in circular motion into a particularly nasty knot. tae ho groaned, his face scrunched up in pain. finally, they stopped. he slumped forward. “better?” jung so asked.
he turned, his smile tired and melty. “better.”
♝: Reading a book together
“wait, wait, i wasn’t done with that page,” tae ho said, sticking his finger on the page before jung so can turn it.
they huffed and pouted. “how are you so slow? you’ve already read it!”
“yeah, like, eight years ago, c’mon.” a few seconds passed, his eyes scanning the page. jung so noticed his eyes kept darting away from the book, this way and that, before coming back to it. “why don’t we just get you your own copy.”
“cuz i don’t need my own copy,” he replied, turning the page and resting his cheek on their shoulder.
“at this rate we’re not gonna get to where sirius black shows up until they reboot the movies.”
“har, har. don’t be ridiculous. it’ll only take us until the next fantastic beasts movie comes out.” 
jung so laughed. “what if i just read it to you?”
“oh! would you do the voices?”
“no.”
tae ho pursed his lips. “fine. read it to me anyway.”
♤: Taking a bath together
“y’know, when you said we should shower together, this is not what i had in mind,” said tae ho, giving jung so’s back a dubious look as they washed their hair.
“i said we need to conserve water. we’re in a drought, tae, keep up. and pass me the conditioner.”
he passed them the bottle, the two changing places so he could stand under the water. “okay, but... i say that all the time and it never actually mean it.” tae ho pushed water and hair back from his eyes, working a thick lather into his curls.
“yeah, i know, it’s problematic as shit. when you say we should shower together, we end up in here for ages and conserve exactly zero water.” their eyes were closed so they wouldn’t get conditioner in their eyes, but the eyeroll was evident in their voice.
“well. my “let’s shower togethers” are way more fun.”
jung so slapped his wet chest with the back of their hand. “you better watch yourself, or i’ll show you the true meaning of “dry spell.””
♧: Your muse playing with their hair
“god, your hair is so versatile.”
“shut up.”
“you can pull off any look.”
“stop.”
“right, sora? i think these one, two, three, four... five! pig tails look really great on them.”
sora giggled, lightly patting each one of the five pigtails she and tae ho had put in their hair.
jung so’s sour expression brightened with a light hearted roll of their eyes. “i don’t know what you expected. i look good in everything.”
“it’s true,” sora put in, nodding her head solemnly. 
“c’mere,” jung so scooped sora into their arms and hugged her tight. she squeaked and laughed, squirming a little before relenting and hugging them back. tae ho wrapped his long arms around them both, kissing jung so’s temple as he did.
♡: Accidentally falling asleep together
gabe opened the front door as quietly as he could. it creaked and he remembered he’d been meaning to grease it for ages now and hadn’t gotten around to it. it was nearly four am and he expected everyone to be asleep. at least, everyone except tae ho, who might’ve been smoking on the couch writing songs, or in bed trying to sleep, or at least pretending to sleep. the room was illuminated by the pale glow of netflix on the tv.
he approached it, slipping his shoes off to avoid making too much noise. the room smelled like weed, but that was no surprise. “Are you still watching?” netflix asked him mutely. he glanced down at the couch. there slept jung so and tae ho, tipped into one another, resting awkwardly on each other’s shoulders, snoozing fitfully. gabe smiled. he picked up the playstation remote, which had fallen into jung so’s lap from their relaxed hand. then, he slipped off his well-worn and well-loved misfits jacket and placed it gingerly over tae ho’s body. jung so had a blanket slipping half off their body. gabe picked it up and laid it over their chest.
the two would wake up with awful cricks in their necks, but gabe thought better than to wake them up and trot them off to bed. instead, he turned off the system and the TV, and left them both there to dream.
♣: Back scratches
tae ho really sucked at back scratching. well, that wasn’t true, when his nails were long he was quite good at it. but, when the black polish he wore chipped off enough, he sometimes fell back into the bad habit of biting his nails, making them short and useless for back scratching. 
“c’mere, we’ll paint them now. geez, you’d think by now you’d dropped this habit,” jung so said, shaking their head and preparing to stand to get the polish.
“no, no! don’t go anywhere, i’ll make this work, i’m sorry. you can paint my nails later, it’s fine. here.” he pulled them back down by the shoulders, taking a moment to kiss their shoulder.
“ooh,” they shuddered, arching into his touch. “what is that? it feels great. a little to the left, oh, yeah, thanks.” 
tae ho moved to scratch where they asked, grinning. “y’know my skull ring and the spiky one? i turned them around. like it?”
“you clever bastard,” jung so chuckled. “you still have to stop biting your nails.”
“i know, i know. in the meantime though―”
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