#blimp's comms | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

edapparently · 8 months ago

Text

So I Did More Writing, But Different This Time! (Kinda)

Basically, I have this very long script lying around for a pilot and I want to make. And I got the idea that it might work well as a book. So I tried adapting just the first scene to see how it would go.

Enjoy :)

Lieutenant Commander Cole Wells was a tall, thin man. His spiky dark hair had a subtle tinge of blue. And as he awoke; the first thing he felt was a sharp and unforgiving pain in his right ankle. The next was the cold metal of the floor and of the wall he was slouched against. He opened his eyes and the blurred form of the destroyed corridor filled his vision. Two flashing, bright red, blurs on either side of him were easy to identify as the red alert sirens. And yet he could not hear them wailing.

He looked down at his troubled ankle and realised that there was a large grey blur that covered it. He tried slowly moving his leg, but that only made the pain worse. He tried moving his other leg. Success! Whatever the grey blur was, it had missed his left foot by centimetres. Slowly, the blurs became sharper and more defined. And as they did; Wells realised that the grey object over his foot was a twisted metal girder that had fallen from the ceiling. As his vision became clearer he looked more about the corridor. Behind him, on the wall, was a window looking out into space. Through it he saw the distorted shapes of a vast asteroid field that surrounded the ship. Looking back into the corridor, he could just about see that a whole panel of ceiling had been blown off just a couple metres ahead of him. From which, sparks would occasionally jump and fizzle away on the floor.

Before he could clearly make out the end of the corridor, a sharp ringing began to stab into his eardrums. And with it, followed the wailing of the red alert sirens and the zap of the sparks. As the ringing faded he could hear another noise atop the others. It was close, coming from a small box on his left wrist. It was a voice!

“Lieutenant! Lieutenant, can you hear me?” cried the voice coming from his wrist-comm. A small golden box with a silver lining that was attached to Wells’s wrist like a watch. It had two buttons and a large screen that displayed a horizontal green line. When the voice spoke, the line would bounce to its sound wave. “Come in, Lieutenant! Are you alright?” The voice cried. Wells lifted his right arm and tapped the first button.

“Wells here. Reading you loud and clear.” He replied in a pained English accent.

“Oh thank goodness! What’s your condition?”

“My foot’s trapped beneath a girder, I can’t tell if anything’s broken yet. And judging from the various pains and disorientation I’ve probably had a rough landing as well.”

“Don’t try to move. Rescue and repair teams are on the way so they’ll have you out of there soon.”

Wells felt a slight wave of comfort upon talking to another person. Not enough to drown out the pain. But it was appreciated regardless. Wells asked “what’s the situation report?”

“We’ve been rammed.”

The comfort inside Wells died “rammed! By who?”

“We don’t know. Their engine signature only appeared briefly after they swung around an asteroid that was just off our port bow. And even then it’s not one I recognise. Although it did all happen so fast I doubt even they could have detected our signature before it was too late. We’re not entirely sure where exactly they’ve hit us but it’s definitely somewhere close to your position.”

As the voice spoke, Wells’s vision began to return properly and he focused on the end of the corridor. There was something there. A large shape that protruded from the wall that almost looked like the front of a blimp. The area around it seemed to be the most damaged, with debris and scratched markings on the wall. As the shape became more visible; Wells had a realisation that made him freeze in place and unable to break eye contact with the shape. “How far away is that rescue team?” he asked with a trembling lip.

“They can’t be too long now, Lieutenant. Why do you ask? Is everything alright?”

“I think I’ve found our mystery rammers.”

“What are you talking about? You can’t mean-”

“I’m staring at the bow of their ship!”

There was a moment of horrified silence between the two. Before the voice broke the silence by jumping into action. “Hold on tight! I’ll pass the message on to the rescue and repair teams. Don’t move a muscle!”

“I understand” Wells replied somberly as the green line faded away from the screen on his wrist-comm. Not that he’d have seen it go, his attention was squarely focused on the strange ship that was now lodged into this side of his own. Who was inside the odd craft? Why had they rammed his ship? Had they even meant to? He asked himself over and over again as he listened to nothing now but the groaning and shrieking of the structures of the two ships holding each other together.

All his questions would be answered a lot more quickly than he bargained for. There was a sudden loud clank of metal followed by a soft his from the strange ship. And slowly, the front most portion began to lower like a drawer bridge. Blood red light flowed from the interior of the strange ship and flooded the corridor, drowning out any and all other colours.

Steadily, with a series of harsh thumps as their many legs stomped against the ground. Three insectoid silhouettes appeared in the newly formed doorway. Each one easily double Well’s height. Their lower bodies resembled spiders, with six tall legs that ended with large and stubby feet. Their torsos also stretched tall, with four restless arms, two on each side that were concluded by three fingered hands. Their heads were that of a massive praying mantis, with large bug eyes and two antennae that scanned the corridor. Below were mandibles that clicked and snarled as their heads twitched and observed every detail of the corridor. Before finally, they were all staring directly back at Wells as he stared at them. As the aliens examined him from afar, there was only one word the Wells could think to say. Only one word to make humanity’s first contact with extraterrestrial life.

“H- hello?”

#scifi #scifi story #writing #writing scifi

0 notes

writingtheskies12147 · 2 years ago

Text

Absolutely go read this it’s amazing

Imma just slide this in here…

***

Why did no one stop them?

Why did none of them see and stop them!

Why was he abandoned like this?

He’d make them see.

He’d make them all see.

Starting with the Bat…

“Dammit!”

“Hood, report.”

“There’s no timer. Looks like it’s remote activated.”

“That means—“

“He’s playing with us,” Jason growled. “He can set them off at any time.”

“Then we need to get the remote off him,” Batman brilliantly deduced.

“Good luck getting close enough.”

“I’ve got visual!” Nightwing reported. “Shit. That’s huge.”

“What is it?”

“Another bomb, but it’s the size of a minivan and covered in…is that kryptonite?”

“Oracle.”

“Right in the center of Gotham Park. Based on his other models, the blast radius covers two miles.”

“Do you see me!?”

Jason froze.

The Pit curled in his gut at the unfamiliar voice.

There, standing on the tallest roof next to park, a figure in white held a cartoonish looking gun.

Jason grappled closer.

The white focused into a lab coat covered a white jumpsuit. A black utility belt, boots, collar, and gloves provided contrast to make out his figure—

It was a child.

A child with a white streak in black hair, glowing green eyes, and lips pulled into a snarl.

Jason’s hands went cold.

The child aimed across the park and fired.

The laser struck a bomb and the top three floors of the complex were reduced to rubble.

Thank god we evacuated already.

But the show confirmed that this kid—this child younger than Red Robin—was indeed their rogue.

“Everyone stay where you are!” The boy called out. “You will hear what I have to say, or the city will feel it!”

The Pit made that weird feeling again.

Jason landed next door and three stories down. “Hey, kid!”

Those green eyes seemed to look through the helmet.

“If you’ve got something to say, I’m your best bet of getting it out there,” he lied.

“If I wanted your attention—“ he aimed at the vigilante, “—I would’ve started in Park Row.”

No one calls it that, he didn’t say.

“So who are you looking for?”

“The Bat.”

“Everyone is. What makes you so special?”

Those eyes flared brighter. “He’s part of the Justice League, and my beef is with them. You shut up and I won’t lump your city into the collateral.”

“Red Hood, stand down.”

“Get over here, B, I can’t stall him for much longer,” he muttered into the comms.

“I’m in position.”

The kid turned, weapon aimed at the shadows. “Get out here. Now!“

Batman stepped into the moonlight. “Disarm the bombs.”

“No.”

The Failed Father moved closer. “Disarm them.”

The kid lifted a small metal box. “I squeeze, we all go boom. You listen, Gotham stands another night.”

The Pit whispered. Lie, it hissed.

“He’s lying.”

“Red and I are working on the big one,” Nightwing reported. “Robin’s gathering the small ones.”

“You failed, Batman.”

He grunted.

The kid adjusted his grip on the gun. “Your entire League didn’t stop them. Didn’t see them for the danger they were until it was too late. You killed my sister!”

“Who didn’t we stop? Who killed her?”

“My parents built that fucking lab in the basement. They left it unlocked. They built a fucking blimp on the roof and none of you noticed!” He screamed. “None of you made them stop! None of you stopped them from killing me!”

Oh hell.

“No one noticed. No one cared!”

“The Justice League had nothing to do with—“

“Shut up!”

Green snuck along the edges of his vision.

Fuck, not now!

“You didn’t come when they were a threat, and you didn’t come when I was. You didn’t stop me from blowing up that school. You didn’t stop my sister from going inside!”

The kid’s voice steeled with cold fury that made the Pit writhe.

“My parents killed me. And you let them.”

He saw green.

Running out of mojo. Might write more later. Good night!

he’s just an angry little boy

So I wrote a dpxdc fic that’s actually more of a fusion. In which Danny isn’t turned into a ghost during the portal accident, he just gains some really bad Lazarus Pit Rage

Title: Half Rage

Summary: Ever since the accident, Danny has been seething with rage.

Excerpt:

A heavy blow knocks the books from his arms. Danny jolts and opens his eyes again as mean laughter fills the stairwell.

It’s Dash, of course. Who else would think it the height of entertainment to corner a lone boy? Danny glares. The fury washes over him again, like he hadn’t almost managed to bury it deep enough to last the rest of the day. He feels hot, sharp with it.

One of the kids behind Dash stops laughing abruptly as he catches the look in Danny’s eyes. But Dash himself? He’s either too stupid or too arrogant to take warning.

“Oho,” Dash says, “Is skunk boy angry at me? You were standing right in my path, Fenton. I couldn’t help it.” He chortles at his own words, and his friends follow suit.

They sound like a pack of hyenas, thinks Danny derisively. This observation is not helpful, not calming.

Miffed that he’s gotten no reaction from Danny, Dash reaches out to flick his hair. “What’s with the skunk stripe anyway?”

Danny doesn’t blink, not when Dash’s finger first jabs towards his face and not when the offending lock of bleached hair drops over his eye. He doesn’t move at all, an utter contradiction to the raging whirlwind in his chest.

“Think this makes you look cool or something?”

The rage is boiling up, seconds from spilling over.

“Think a girl like Paulina would ever go out with a skunk like you?” Dash tugs on the lock of hair, a single jerk hard enough to actually pull a few pale strands out.

And that’s it.

Time’s up.

Danny’s done.

317 notes · View notes

blimpixels · 5 months ago

Text

Berry and Cream

@plushpetaub currently works as a blueberry juice producer at Millie’s factory. The job kinda requires constant attention so Aub doesn’t get out much anymore, much to the dismay of her partner @piggygirltummy. But because she’s soooo so good at being a ripe, bountiful fruit, Millie let Luna visit for 2 whole hours out of Aub’s busy schedule (doing nothing but being juiced and fed all day). But that’s a pretty strict time limit for two pent up lesbians.

Is this an internship? Nepotism? Does it count as work if she’s less of an employee and more of a product? Is Luna even getting paid at all?

“It doesn’t matter as long as we’re together” is what Luna probably would’ve said if she could utter anything but gasps and moans.

#blueberry inflation #blueberry expansion #body expansion #blueberry kink #cream inflation #blimpixels #oc/millie monka #oc/louie #others ocs #they’re my friends actually but yeah #lactation kink #blimp's comms

175 notes · View notes

likeadog · 3 years ago

Text

my recollection of this arc is really fucking bad so i may be wrong but i find it SO fucking funny that in the anime while yugi and co were fighting for their fucking lives in kaiba's little sword art online game that isis rishid and ymalik were having the world's most intense game of hide and seek. like just not talking to each other at all for however long they were on this blimp, moving rishid's body around so ymalik cant stab it. i think they would be good at hide and seek living in a tomb does that to you. isis saw ymalik vent and try to ambush rishid in comms etc

#yugioh #isis ishtar #malik ishtar #rishid ishtar #yami malik #nyc knacks

78 notes · View notes

fractualized · 3 years ago

Text

I think it would be a good gag for the next Batman movies to have Joker, but like this scene from Invader Zim.

Like every sequel starts with Batman sack-throwing Joker into his Arkham cell, and then he gets on comms with Alfred with the actual plot set-up: “I’ve stopped Joker’s laughing gas blimp / poisonous cotton candy truck / chattering teeth hoard. Has Gordon sent an update on that deadly pollen in Robinson Park / the mass delusion at Gotham University / those crocodile man sightings down by the docks?”

Of course in the background, Joker’s blowing a kiss / drawing a heart on his cheek using the blood from a wound / stretching his arm through the bars to see if he can pinch Batman’s ass.

#the batman '22 #batjokes #batman #joker

34 notes · View notes

steeleidolon · 2 years ago

Text

Kunsel tips his helmeted head this way and that at the notion of looking better. Hapless, really, the slant of his mouth, the crooked smirk that teases at a dimple. Right, he ought to say something, because there is no background to fade into.

Center stage.

There are so many better suited and more deserving of it in his mind. He has said as much, more than once.

Sometimes it's unavoidable, though. At least it is just the two of them. He can appreciate that.

"Thank you, sir. You do too."

Taking up a small corner of the desk's free space, he places his coffee canteen and protein bar down, then takes the so-called hot seat opposite Genesis. A brief moment of hesitation - should he hesitate? - and he comes to a decision. Hands lift, deft, flicking latches and buckles, and then he bows his head to roll his helmet off dome-first, setting it down atop his thighs.

Time in the sun has done him a great deal of good. He does not carry the pallor of Midgar with him. Deep bronze contrasts the auburn of his hair and the stark silvery-peach of the scars that split his right brow and curve below his eye socket.

He does not appear to be much younger or much older than Genesis himself, by all rights. Mako makes it difficult to tell, and he is suffused with it given the lambent glow in his irises.

His eyes crack open, a slow blink of adjustment to the decidedly comfortable light in here. Much more comfortable than the med-tent's exam flashlights, anyhow.

"I got in, got a good look at their relays." He pat-pats at his left drop pocket, the one not still sticky with smashed potion vials, and pulls out a small leather-bound book - the cover is unmarked, but the writing inside is unmistakably a commander's set of ciphers, including some decoded and as yet untranslated dossiers, troop movements, materiel details.

"Their hunters were after me because I made a visible play for one of their dirigible keys. Couldn't risk them scrambling their codes before we got patched in to their comms network."

Sometimes sticky fingers pay off. Kunsel is not a Turk, but it helps to be as self-sufficient as possible, helps to think on one's feet to get the job done.

"They do love their blimps. Didn't expect them to have drain darts. That's new for this far west. Appreciate the backup."

Inhale.

"Delayed electromagnetic hell thundaga bursts at the commander's relay and the Alpha, Beta, and Charlie junction sites detonated simultaneously. Their power grid will be out of commission for a while, should be a drain of resources for their main front. Meanwhile in the chaos we've got an ear on their reorganization efforts."

He meets and holds eye contact, unafraid, searching.

"Whatever we can do to keep our people informed and safe. "

Genesis is most certainly grateful for the opportunity to decompress, and it seems that some provisions had been made for him in case he'd just decided to return to the command tent. He opens the box that has been left on the desk for him, a mako shot already available for him which he promptly uses, and as the substance absorbs into him the slight fatigue clears up.

Taking out the canteen and the packs of food bars, he takes a sip of the cold-brew coffee that he'd requested be prepared for him, setting it down for now while he unwraps one of the food bars, munching on it thoughtfully while he goes over the details of the mission in his head. Another fortification of the Crescent Unit had fallen, another blow had been dealt to the Wutai forces, but not without some cost.

He opens up his laptop and types up some notes, things he can put in the mission report upon the return to HQ, even though he is semi-writing that up as he goes. It's prudent that he writes down the details while he remembers, lest he forgets a critical point later down the line.

The rapping at the door draws his attention, and he gives a militant nod as Kunsel steps inside, waiting for him to close the door before he saves the document he's working on, lacing carmine leather-clad fingers together.

"You're looking better," he remarks with some light humour, indicating a seat in front of the desk he's seated at with a subtle head movement as if to encourage the man to take a seat, "so now we can go ahead with the debrief."

And as with any actor worth his salt, the change of staging warrants a change of character. The Commander's expression is nigh on unreadable for a few moments.

"What is important is that our main objective here was achieved." Even in his most formal tones, the faintest hint of his Banorian melody still made itself known. "A key fortification of the Crescent Unit was successfully eliminated, along with a cache of armaments that would have been of value to them." Mostly thanks to his contributions, but Kunsel's gambit had had merit, of course. "Even despite being caught short, your tenacity and quick thinking was key to tonight's success." The smile was more in his words than on his lips. "Your part in securing this small victory is most certainly noted. Do you have anything else you would like to add?"

#verse: crisis core #poeticphoenix #[ μ ] – εγλ 1992 - 0002

33 notes · View notes

sugarrollart · 1 year ago

Text

Comm: Swollen Kal’Sit

A comm for TempestLord2000 of Kal'Sit from Arknights as an inflated blimp

Gassy below the cut

24 notes · View notes

ddarker-dreams · 5 years ago

Text

Aspiration Part 2. Yan Chrollo x Reader [COMM]

click here for part one!

“You’ll hurt your neck if you keep craning your head down like that.”

What good it does to chastise you on an insignificant action like this is beyond you. There isn’t much else to do until you land in this “unknown” destination that he’s spoken of earlier, yet the thought of entertaining conversation with him doesn’t feel appealing either. Being kidnapped will have that effect on you, he shouldn’t expect otherwise but seems to.

“Nothing a few painkillers won’t solve.” you respond with forced disinterest, flipping to the next page of the magazine Chrollo gave you earlier. It feels like a minor loss to entertain him with a response, your cold shoulder treatment temporarily lifting.

You’ve read this magazine at least three times by now, hoping that giving your mind something to focus on will steady you in reality. The lackluster stories about summer sales, latest keto recipes, and what celebrities have been up to lately offer none to little substance. Yet your eyes continue scanning them dutifully as if it’s a sacred text recovered by a forgotten civilization.

Letting out a small yawn, you continue to read until you get to the familiar final page once again. Fully intending on completing the cycle of rereading it, Chrollo interrupts this by plucking it from your grasp before you get the chance. All you can offer in return is a halfhearted glare and grimace.

“Hey! I was reading that.” you protest with a frown, feeling vulnerable without anything to hold onto.

He ignores your agitated exclamation, placing the magazine out of your reach by his side. “I don’t believe you’re missing out on anything of importance, seeing as you’ve read it multiple times already.”

Huffing but not humoring him with a response, you cross your arms and stare out the window. The clouds below you are an enticing sight, still not enough to maintain your attention for the remaining thirty or so minutes of this flight. When traveling, it’s always the last amount of time before reaching your destination that feels like the longest.

Chrollo lets out a disapproving sigh at your actions, then pulls back his sleeve to check the time. “It won’t be much longer. I’ll attribute your current behavior to being hungry.”

“Well, yeah, there’s that,” you finally look over at him, lips pursing indignantly. “And there’s the fact that I’ve been kidnapped by an A bounty criminal and am currently heading to god knows where at four in the morning.”

“You’re by all means welcome to rest.”

How he can calmly rebuke all your thinly veiled sarcasm is a special talent, like water off a duck’s back. You don’t want to admit it, however, you’re grateful he isn’t hotheaded and offended by your boorish remarks. Watching your tongue would be how any sane person would deal with a threat like this… then there’s you. Making poor decisions and winging it. A life motto, really.

An invitation to rest your weary eyes isn’t easily declined, an alluring proposal. His presence makes it a challenge to feel comfortable enough to fall asleep, that state leaving you entirely vulnerable. When you’re awake you have some tandem of control, even if it isn’t much.

“Where exactly would I do that? I don’t see any beds in here.” You emphasize your rebuttal by glancing around the room you two occupy, as if one would materialize at your words. Now that would be a useful nen ability, if he happened to have it.

Chrollo smiles, in a way that doesn’t sit well with you. “Why not rest on my shoulder?”

“W-whatever happened to your previous care over the well being of my neck? That’ll just hurt it after five or so minutes.” you stutter back, face flushing as his lips quirk further upwards. Amusement is dancing within his dark eyes, drawing out further discomfort from you. He seems to like exchanges like this, flustering you with the same ease as breathing.

“Painkillers. You said it yourself,” Chrollo throws your previous statement before you, challenging you with a raised eyebrow. “I’d be happy to get them, if that’s the only reservation you have about sleeping on me.”

Inhaling sharply at his teasing assault, you close your eyes to prevent yourself from doing anything foolish. Gritting your teeth and balling your fists by your side, you remember why you were giving him the cold shoulder earlier. Talking to Chrollo is exasperating, all of his composed words like needles in your skin. Not wanting to swat at the wasp nest any further, your mind starts drifting, in a last ditch effort to distract yourself.

It’s been an eventful night. The most memorable night of your life, if you’re being honest. You had always acknowledged and accepted the risks of looking into the Phantom Troupe. The stories of their unabashed cruelty served as an appropriate warning. Playing it close to the chest usually entailed fear of death, so never in your wildest dreams were you expecting… whatever this is.

At least it beats dying? So you’ve got that going for you.

There isn’t anything you can do now, is what you’ve been telling yourself. Playing along with his whims is all you can think to do. It isn’t the ideal situation, but your only option now is to wait for an opening for escape. Even though Chrollo has more strength than you, he is still human. The thought offers a glimmer of encouragement, knowing that people aren’t infallible. You’ll take advantage of any weaknesses you can find.

Getting more information out of him is a path worth pursuing for the time being.

“I hope we’re not camping,” you murmur, shuddering at the horrific thought. “Bugs eat me like I’m the last supper.”

“We won’t be camping. And despite the name, the last supper isn’t actually the last time the disciples ate.” There’s something extremely ironic about a murderer correcting you on this.

“Please forgive me for not being up to date on biblical theology. I’ll be sure to correct that before the next test,” you deadpan before a realization hits you. “Wait, so what exactly are we doing? How am I even allowed to be on this blimp without my passport? God, none of this makes any sense…”

“I was beginning to wonder if you’d ever ask. To answer your questions, we’ll be staying at a hotel for a few weeks. I know some people in the area who are interested in purchasing what was stolen earlier.” Chrollo explains with a casual air, smoothing out a wrinkle in his shirt.

It all hits you again. This is really happening to you. An inescapable reality where you’re at the complete mercy of this man, who despite showing no interest in harming you, is fully capable of doing so. Your contempt style of speaking until now has been a pitiful defense mechanism to help you cope with the extremity of this situation, not doing anything aside from momentarily distracting you. Running a hand through your hair, you feel your heart pounding within once more.

Chrollo takes note of how you shift in your seat, and tilts his head. “I understand this has been quite a lot to process. I meant what I said earlier -- about having no intention to harm you -- unless you do something that forces my hand.”

He smiles, the warm action not matching up to the dark implications of his words. It makes your blood run cold, how a monster can wear the skin of a human. There isn’t any benefit of getting yourself further worked up, so you continue rambling on. Life is all about testing the boundaries of what you can and can’t get away with.

“I still… don’t really get it. I know I was looking into information about you guys, but in that case, why not just,” you gulp, fearful that saying it will solidify the possibility. “Kill me? Even more so now that I know more.”

For the first time all night, Chrollo doesn’t offer an immediate quip in response. He carefully considers your words, in a way that leads you to believe he doesn’t entirely know the answer himself. It’s not that you have a death wish, yet your curiosity is overwhelming. Whenever he does decide to grace you with an answer, maybe you’ll find out something that’ll prove useful to escaping in the future.

“There’s no simple reason that’ll satisfy you. You piqued my interest, and that’s a dangerous thing to do with a thief,” he leans over, clearly assessing you as you back away in response. “I confirmed my suspicions when we spoke earlier in the car. So for the time being… I want to observe you.”

He was right when he said the answer won’t be satisfactory. His response leaves more questions than answers, some of which you don’t want to delve into. Backing down from this befuddling conversation, you focus on something else.

The soothing night sky outside elicits butterflies in your stomach. Darkness allows for the city lights beneath to stand out, little twinkling dots of light growing closer as the blimp descends. You can’t help but feel a sense of relief knowing that you’ll be on the ground soon, a sense of claustrophobia constricting you in this room with no escape. His suffocating presence doesn’t help on that front.

Chrollo is finally considerate enough to leave you to your thoughts. Within a few more minutes you’ve made your landing, leaving through a private terminal with what has to be forged ID. A black car rental car is waiting for you outside the airport, Chrollo opening the door to the passenger seat for you. The gentleman-like act almost causes you to roll your eyes, but you’re far too exhausted to do anything other than sitting down obediently. You’ll save the cheek for a later time.

He shuts some luggage into the trunk, then starts the car with a low hum, driving off to where you presume the hotel he mentioned earlier is. Looking out the window, you squint as the sun begins to rise into the sky. Your eyelids grow heavier by the second, in spite of how desperately you cling to consciousness. Eventually, the world around you grows distant, and you’re lulled into a deep slumber.

Dreamless rest is stolen from you, Chrollo gingerly shaking your shoulders and bringing you back to cruel reality. Letting out a low groan at the unwelcome interruption, you feel like swatting his hands away. “What… oh, it’s you.”

“Good morning to you too,” If he’s bothered by your unenthusiastic greeting, he doesn’t show it. Taking out the keys from the car, the vehicle ceases making noise. “We’re here now. You did mention wanting to sleep on a bed earlier, didn’t you?”

Craning your neck to look out the window, you see only about half an hour has passed since you first fell asleep. Outside is a grandiose looking building that must be your hotel. As much as you hate to admit it, you find yourself staring at what has to be the very expensive venue. Much more than anything you could ever hope to afford. While you’re appreciating the sight before you, Chrollo gets out to get his luggage.

That’s right. What are you supposed to do for clothes anyways? All of it’s stuck back at your apartment, and you don’t think Chrollo was generous enough to pack for you. At least a hotel will have toiletries, so that won’t be a concern.

‘Oh well. I guess we’ll cross that bridge once we get to it.’

“Do you need me to carry you?” Chrollo calls over from the curb, two large suitcases in hand. You realize only one of them has a lock on it.

Not even humoring him with a response, you get out of the car, keeping your distance from him. To your understanding, attempting to flee or signal down anyone will earn “unwanted consequences”, or at least that’s how he put it. It’s one thing to endanger yourself in a daring escape, but you can’t justify putting other’s lives on the line.

Morning chill prompts you to wrap your arms around yourself, warding off the cold. Following Chrollo’s lead, you head through revolving doors into a breathtaking lobby. Warm, yellow light from a glass chandelier basks the room in an ethereal glow, accenting the white marble flooring. He walks up to one of the employees behind a desk, checking in and getting a key to the room.

In the liberating few minutes away from Chrollo, your eyes sweep the surroundings for any openings. Is it possible to make a run for it for one of the cars outside? He’s fast -- you’ve seen it for yourself -- undoubtedly more than you. Such an obvious attempt at escape will only be met with failure. The lobby is wide open, no possibilities for hiding evident.

‘There goes that idea.’

Your insistent glancing around the area must’ve given you away, Chrollo placing a warning hand on your shoulder, and giving a firm squeeze. “Let’s head to our room. You must be exhausted by now.”

Once again offering no signs of protest, you head to an elevator together. Chrollo hits the button with the highest number on it. Ascending upwards, you watch the lights around the rims of the buttons with interest until it reaches level thirty. The elevator adds to your dizziness, a fuzzy feeling budding in your head.

With a ding, the door opens to reveal a long hallway. Chrollo checks the number on his key once more, before navigating to a room.

Finally, after what feels like forever, he opens the door to your shared suite. The lobby clued you in earlier that this is no cheap hotel, the suite confirming that. Since it’s at the top of the building, the entire city is visible to you. It’s a breathtaking sight, one that keeps you entranced as Chrollo shuts the door behind you. Looking out the window, you see more signs of life as the morning progresses.

The glass opens up to a balcony, the handle locked and cold to the touch. It’s probably not a good idea to walk out without permission, not sure of the act could be interpreted in a negative way.

Chrollo takes a place by your side, a little too close for your liking. Amidst the beauty before him, he’s more interested in looking at you. “I take it you like the view?”

“I’ve never been in a place like this,” you tell him, eyes wide and mouth agape at the breathtaking scenery. “If I had known we’d be staying here, I would’ve let you kidnap me sooner.”

“That’s a joke, by the way.”

He chuckles lowly at your rushed cover up, thinking little of it. “Are you hungry?”

Now that gets your attention. You can only imagine how wonderful the food here is, and you haven’t had anything to eat since your dinner last night. Having gone so long without food you’re surprised you aren’t ravenous, the kidnapping likely stunting your appetite. Still, you won’t be turning down the offer.

You nod your head to confirm his words. Chrollo walks over to a phone in the room to place an order for room service, quietly listing off a variety of breakfast foods. While he’s occupied doing this, you look around what will be your residence for the next few weeks. He must not take any issue in your wondering about, seeing as he’s covering the only possible exit. How considerate of him.

While he’s busy placing an order, you wonder off to take in your surroundings. From the door that leads to the hallway is a small closet on the left, and an expansive kitchen in the middle of the room. To the right of which is a living room, all surrounded by glass windows. That leaves your sleeping arrangement.

Saving the bedroom for last, your fears are confirmed. You realize that even in such an expansive suite, there’s only a single bedroom, with a king sized bed. Luck doesn’t seem to be on your side. Well, it’s not like you can’t sleep on the floor or couch if the opportunity presents itself. A nagging voice in the back of your mind tells you Chrollo won’t allow for that, unfortunately.

Plopping yourself down on the right side of the bed, you could almost melt into the comfortable mattress. Tempting as it is to fall asleep, you don’t trust Chrollo enough to give that a shot. Frowning at your fancy evening wear from the previous night, your previous concern about not having any clothes to change into returns. The bathroom did have a fluffy, white robe in it.

‘That feels too vulnerable... I’ll take my chances with the dress.’

Getting up before you fall asleep, you look around for anything that might be useful. The phone in the living room might be an idea, if you could somehow call and alert the staff of your predicament. Something tells you Chrollo has already taken that into account, and you write off the idea as soon as it appears.

Speaking of Chrollo, he enters the bedroom with an inviting cart of food in front of him. Everything from hashed browns, scrambled eggs, pastries, pancakes, bacon and waffles sit atop silver plates.

“I wasn’t sure what you like, so I got everything. Help yourself.”

Not needing to be told twice, you grab a plate and go to town. Chrollo grabs a steaming cup of tea, taking a sip and sitting down next to you. The bed creaks underneath his added weight, you too occupied with eating to care about the implications of his action.

He raises the glass to his lips. “Is there anything else you want to ask me, [First]?”

Swallowing your previous bite, you give his question some thought. There is plenty on your mind that you’d love to know. A better, more conclusive answer for why he kidnapped you at the top of that list. You recall how he looked detached from reality when you asked him about it on the blimp, leading you to believe that asking again will earn a similar result.

‘It’d be best to play it safe for now.’

“Yes, actually,” you take a bite of a blueberry muffin, wiping your mouth before continuing. “Am I supposed to wear this damned dress for the remainder of this... arrangement?”

"As lovely as you look in it, no. One of the suitcases has clothes for you, among other things.”

Blinking at this new information, you wonder if he ever intended on telling you this. In your short time of being acquainted with Chrollo, you’ve picked up on how he rewards you for conversation. Humiliating as it is to play along with his tune, you’ll have to do just that.

“Other things...?” you repeat back in a faint murmur, showcasing your confusion by tilting your head. Chrollo nods his head in affirmation to this, setting his now empty tea cup on a nightstand with a faint click.

“You strike me as the type to want something to do, so I went through the trouble of procuring a few of your belongings. A few books, and the like.”

‘Ah. How terribly considerate of him.’

It’s not much, but knowing you have some of your personal possessions is comforting. Anything is better than being stuck alone with him, or your thoughts. The worst possible case scenarios.

Your meal now finished, you get up and place your dirty plates back onto the tray. Chrollo continues relaxing, eyes still following your every moment. How is he not exhausted? The only thing keeping you awake is your fear of what could happen when you’re asleep, and even that is beginning to wane. Maybe some caffeine will help with that.

“I’m gonna get my stuff.” you call over, holding your breath in anticipation of a response.

At his lack of protest, you assume this action is approved of. Helping yourself to the suitcase without a lock on it, you unzip it to find it’s just as he said. Some of your clothes from home, your switch, books, a few offline games, your favorite perfume, shampoo and body wash.

It’s creepy to know someone went into your residence and took your stuff, but that’s the least of your problems right now. While grabbing a change of clothes, a thought hits you. Looking up towards the phone Chrollo used to call room service earlier, your hand twitches by your side. It’s a temptation, taunting you over the possibility of freedom.

‘He’s in the other room relaxing. Maybe, just maybe I have enough time...’

Cautiously, as not to alert him of your scheme, you begin to silently tiptoe over to the phone. Time feels like it goes slower, not even trusting yourself to breathe in fear of him hearing it. Hand hovering over your possible saving grace, your fingers grow closer to pressing 9.

That’s when he appears in the corner of your eye, leading you to hurriedly bring back your hand and straighten your back.

“I already cut the wires. It was a good idea though.” he calls over from the doorway, leaning against it and smiling in a way that makes your stomach curl. Not a single detail has gone overlooked, but what were you expecting from a mastermind criminal who has managed to go this long without being caught?

Checking to see if his words hold any merit, you find it’s just as he said. Wires cut in a single clean motion, biting your lip as your hopes evaporate in front of you.

It reminds you of Tantalus. Who was cursed to be hungry and thirsty forever, in the taunting reach of food and water that’d recede whenever he went to partake in it. An eternal punishment you’re now being subjected to.

‘I should’ve known it wouldn’t have been so easy. Still, how could he have not made a single sound? I didn’t even hear the bed creak.’

Laughing nervously at being caught, you step back as to avoid further consequence, cheeks flushing at being caught in your measly attempt. “Just... checking to make sure all is in order, aha...”

Walking away from it, you look to change the subject. Chrollo doesn’t seem bothered by your defiant actions, having clearly already anticipated your idea. He rolls out the cart from before, leading you to stiffen when he walks past you. Heart pounding away in your chest, you silently observe him opening the door to place it outside.

He looks back at your anxious form after shutting the door. “I’d rather not have to constantly monitor you. Whether or not I do will be determined by how you act.”

There’s a thick pressure in the room from his words, one that pushes down on you like a heavy weight. Unable to maintain eye contact with him any longer, you look to the side, clutching your clothes to your person. Chrollo doesn’t have to resort to infuriated threats or physical violence, his presence commanding enough on its own.

To ease the tension in the air, Chrollo speaks up. “If I happened to leave out anything you need, let me know.”

Grateful for the change in subject, you nod your head in a daze. From now on you’ll have to be more discreet. Mentally slapping yourself for not giving your earlier actions more consideration, you move on at Chrollo’s lack of reprimanding.

“Is it alright if I get changed?” you speak up, voice meek enough to remind you of a mouse. Chrollo considers you before nodding his head. You jump at the opportunity to be alone, borderline running to the master bathroom and shutting the door behind you.

Looking in the mirror, you see your frowning reflection staring back. Placing a hand to your face, you inspect the bags forming underneath your eyes. Peeling off the dress feels heavenly, using a wet rag on the sink to quickly clean your body. Showering with a murderer in the other room isn’t a tempting proposition.

Putting on your clothes, you feel like a new person. Straightening up your hair and splashing your face with cold water, you place your hands onto the cool marble counter top.

‘I’m going to get out of this. It’ll be okay, [First]. Stay calm.’

Finishing your mini pep talk, you fold your previous outfit and place it on the floor. Will Chrollo even allow someone into your room to clean it? Not that it matters, seeing as you spotted a washer and dryer earlier.

He’s sitting up in bed when you open the door, a book now in hand. At your presence, he looks up to acknowledge you. Chrollo’s dark hair frames his face, and you flush at his admittedly handsome appearance. How are you supposed to remain composed in his company?

“I can close the blinds if you intend to sleep.” he offers before turning to the next page of his book.

Oh, that’s right. Now that you’re wearing pajamas he must assume you want to sleep. The next hurdle of this headache inducing dilemma, Chrollo having the expectation of you resting next to him. Eyelids feeling heavier by the second, you wonder how much coffee would be necessary to keep you awake.

That’d still be delaying the inevitable. Coffee or not you won’t be able to stay conscious forever. Earlier, when you fell asleep in the car, he didn’t do anything weird... right? Nothing that you can account for.

He looks up at you, noting your lack of response. Unfreezing from your prior stiff position, you make the decision to sit down next to the bed. Chrollo most likely wants you where he can see you after your previous stunt, and sleeping on the floor isn’t the worst thing in the world.

Aside from the back pains.

Making yourself comfortable, you fully intend to fall asleep on the floor. Chrollo closes his book at your antics, coming over to your side of the bed and frowning. “What are you doing?”

“I’m about to sleep.”

“... On the floor?”

“Yeah, that’s the plan.”

Unreadable grey eyes pierce through your being, sending chills down your spine. From your previous interactions with him, you thought a measly sign of resistance such as this one wouldn’t matter. Your initial assessment must be incorrect, as he sends you a disapproving look.

“There’s no reed for that.” he reasons with you, leaving little room for argument. Not wanting to give in, you remain planted in your spot. Without wasting anymore time, he gets up and crouches next to you. You wonder if he’s going to chastise you further for your childish actions.

He instead lifts you up in a single, fluid motion. A small noise of shock leaves your lips at the sensation of being hoisted up, scrambling to clutch onto him in fear of falling. It doesn’t last long, as he places you down onto the bed with gentleness that you didn’t expect him to have.

Arms receding back to his side, Chrollo returns to his previous position as if nothing out of the ordinary had just occurred. You feel your face burning, a bright red glow coupled with it. The scent of his cologne lingers, memory of his touch flustering you further.

Clearing your throat to play off the events, you still can’t manage to look at him. “I was planning on sleeping here, actually. Was just testing the floor out.”

He opens his book back up to its previous page, lips quirking into an amused smile. “I’m sure you were.”

Having no other options, you lay on your side facing the wall. Muscles taut and incapable of relaxing in his presence, you squeeze your eyes shut to no avail. All you hear is the gentle hum of the air conditioner on the wall, and the occasional page flip from him.

More time passes, at a snails pace. An hour ago you would’ve entered slumber easily, now it taunts and eludes you. Huffing at your inability to rest, you adjust yourself against the soft mattress.

Sighing quietly in defeat, you attempt to make conversation to pass the time. “Do you not ever need to sleep?”

“I’ll be fine for a while longer. Are you concerned for my well being?” You can imagine the smug visage on his face, clear as day. It’s tempting to want to bite back with no, you’re not very worried about his health. You bite your tongue and instead ignore the teasing.

Sitting up and hugging your knees to your chest, you look over at him. His guard is still on high alert even while he’s reading. There’s an immeasurably gap in strength between you two, accented by his casual demeanor.

“That makes two of us. I don’t feel tired now,” you narrow your eyes in his direction, wanting desperately to know what it is he’s thinking. “Something tells me we’re not going to be sitting here all day.”

“For a majority of it. I’ll consider taking you out for dinner if you continue acting agreeable.”

Tempting you with food, huh? It’s a most valiant effort, one that almost threatens to win you over. Especially since cities always have a variety of nice restaurants to choose from. Giving his proposition some thought, you realize there might be a catch. There always is with these kinds of ordeals.

“What is your definition of... agreeable?”

Disliking the way the word feels on your tongue, you purse your lips. Dehumanizing is how you’d describe it, knowing that your actions are being analyzed and studied. If Chrollo notices the bitterness in your voice, he doesn’t feel a need to mention it.

“I don’t care much for labels, but I’d equate it to wanting to date you. I told you earlier that I had taken an interest in you, that’s what I meant.” Chrollo explains to you with ease that tells you how much thought he’s given it.

When he had told you he was interested in you earlier, you thought he meant it in an entirely different way. Like how you find a certain movie interesting or entertaining. Now you’re unsure what to think. Mind swarming with thoughts ranging from maybe it’s a good thing, to what do you do now?

Finally, you deliver your eloquent and delicately woven response, having put every level of care into it.

“Oh.”

Glancing over at your dumbfounded expression, he can’t help but laugh airily at your mortified look.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

2K notes · View notes