#fun fact! apparently you can actually make ropes from human hair and they actually have an impressive tensile strength. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

canyouhearthelight · 3 years ago

Text

The Miys, Ch. 144

After much demand, Kink Night at the Undine has arrived. This chapter is really fun, was informative to write, but if you need to skip it, you won’t miss out on the overall story. So, trigger warnings on this chapter for:

- Bondage (mentions of)

- Pegging (possible mention of?)

- Impact play (discussed, both done wrongly and demonstrated correctly)

- Topping and bottoming

To be clear: These are all mentioned from the perspective of a non-participant, non-voyeur. I would probably overall rate this chapter appropriate for 14 years and older, but your mileage may vary. However, kink in general can be very healthy if done correctly, and this chapter was double beta-read, not only by @baelpenrose but also by @charlylimph-blog for accuracy of the scene. This actually prevented a PROFOUND mistake from making it to queueing, so I am super grateful for their help.

Once I was released from medical after an unnecessarily long lecture from Noah, I found I had a message waiting from Charly with a date and time to meet at the Undine. Right below that was a message from Sebastian with a uniform-slash-dresscode of sorts.

Aw nuggets. I had forgotten what night it was.

There wasn’t time to grab clothes from my quarters, but my office was on the way to the bar, so I stopped by to change. Socks and shoes were a bit of a challenge, since I generally didn’t wear either, so I had to find a vendor to help me fill in the gaps. Granted, shoes weren’t specified in Sebastian’s list. However, there was exactly a zero percent chance that I was going to lend a hand at a kink party while barefoot. Just… no. Nope. Not happening.

I wiped my palms nervously against my slacks when I arrived, not sure exactly what to expect. Charly and I had talked about it, but none of that knowledge wanted to make its presence known at the moment, apparently. Instead, my mind kept drifting to what in the actual hell she had roped Arthur into doing. The door opened entirely too soon to reveal a smiling Charly, who grabbed my arm and dragged me behind her to the small group already gathered.

All of my nerves were forced from my body by the sputtering laughter I fell victim to when I saw Arthur - I still had no idea what he would be doing, but he looked like someone took a post-apocalyptic movie hero and hit a button labelled ‘make him a villain’ a few too many times. The leather jacket and motorcycle pants were fairly innocuous, since I knew he actually owned both and neither were terribly uncommon on the Ark. Same thing held for the boots - they were just practical in the After and several people held on to that preference with a death grip.

“Cloak’s a nice touch,” I snorted, trying desperately to ignore the campier bits of his outfit.

I was dangerously close to losing it when he scowled and adjusted the laurel crown - I mean, really? - resting on his head. “I knew I shouldn’t have cut my hair this morning,” he muttered. “Damned thing won’t sit right anymore.”

Charly clapped her hands to get everyone’s attention. “Okay, one more run through of what everyone will be doing!”

Sebastian nodded seriously and flicked a towel over his shoulder before handing me an apron. “Sophia has kindly agreed to prep the snacks, while I serve and clean behind people. She’ll clear any dishes in between batches, and one or the other of us will do a lap of the floor every fifteen minutes to ensure everyone is hydrated and there’s no need for medical attention.” He winked at the relief on my face.

Cooking, clearing plates, and momming people into staying hydrated. I could do that.

Arthur brushed off his pauldrons, only forcing me to confront the fact that they were shaped like skulls again, before straightening with aplomb. “I will be Dungeon Master, keeping an eye on everything from there,” he pointed to a scaffold that had been put into place over the bartop, “And intervening as needed if things get out of hand.” Without so much as a twitch of question from me, he explained. “Charly and Coffey can’t be everywhere at once, so I get to perch on high, look ridiculous, and play bouncer if Coffey can’t get there first.”

“Yep,” Charly nodded seriously. For all that she normally seemed built out of chaos and energy, this was Boss Lady Charly. “Let’s keep it safe, sane, and consensual across the board. Speaking of!” She pulled two badges from seemingly nowhere. “Soph, Bash, these are for you.” I took one and immediately grinned when I read it. Staff Only - I Do Not Consent. “If either of you want to play, go for it, but otherwise, probably wear those. Sexy librarian and millionaire CEO are tropes that exist, so ya know - no confusion for anyone. Any questions, concerns, cries for help?” When we all shook our heads, she clapped again. “Okay, off you go! Thanks everyone.”

Sebastian tilted his head toward the kitchen and I followed, wiping my hands on my legs again. “Thank you for agreeing to help with snacks. I know Charly already told you, but I am not the greatest at finger foods that don’t make a mess or won’t be too heavy.”

I hummed for a second before making a few suggestions. “Macaroni and cheese bites, they’re about this big.” I made a circle about an inch and a half across with my fingers. “Just pop and go. Pigs in blankets, the kind with cocktail sausages… meatballs, but probably with lamb instead of beef. Dumplings.” I shrugged. “Charly swears people actually bring food to these, so once that stuff starts coming in, it would just be portioning it and sending it back out. We shouldn’t have too much actual cooking to do.”

He nodded and started grabbing ingredients. “So that leaves drinks, plates, and utensils.” When I reached for a rack of glasses, he stopped me. “No. If one of us drops anything that can break, people can get injured. I’ve been stocking up on fiber-based plates, forks, and spoons. Drinks are going to be in those corn-starch gel pouches.”

“Dude,” I groaned. “Those things get so gummy.”

“Straws are real and do exist.”

“Besides, I can already tell someone is going to find alternative uses for those,” Arthur called from behind us. I swear, I could hear him smirking. “You can’t put humans, sex, and flavored liquid in the same room and not expect that.”

I shook my head with a smile, but he had a point. Once we shooed him away, work on the snacks went pretty quick. Judging by the sounds coming from the main room, it was a good thing, too - furniture being dragged, then Arthur’s voice ringing out to welcome everyone. Soon, Sebastian was swinging out of the kitchen door with the first trays, and true to Charly’s word, he came back carrying a plate of neatly stacked fudge, followed by Arthur carrying a covered container.

“Scratch the meatballs, someone brought an actual mountain of sausage balls,” Arthur grunted as he slammed the container on a flat surface before retreating.

“Not even a joke?” I mused.

“Must be slipping,” Sebastian grinned. “I mean, he said ‘balls’ twice…”

“Low hanging fruit!” a voice called from the main room. It must have seemed entirely out of context to the crowd, but Sebastian and I were laughing as we started plating so he could carry more food out to the spots Charly had designated.

A timer went off, so I took the mac and cheese bites out of the oven, snagged a tray of drink-blobs, shoved a fistful of straws into my apron and took off to do my lap of the event. There were already people taking a break, reaching gratefully for hydration. Several times, someone would reach for one and pour it in a partner’s mouth, and on one occasion, a woman offered it up like a gift to a bound man, both biting into it and drinking greedily.

I almost stepped on someone before I realized there was an actual pile of people on the floor. I diverted my eyes quickly from what I thought was an all-out orgy before my brain registered that I wasn’t hearing sex noises - just whispers. Snapping my eyes back up, it took a moment to figure out that I had nearly stepped on the largest cuddle pile I had seen since my apartment on Insert Winter Holiday. Crouching, I balanced what was left of the drink blobs on one hand while holding out the straws with another. In no time at all, the tray was empty and I was heading back for more.

This time, food on one hand, drinks on the other, I exited the kitchen to see Charly wrapping up her rope-bondage safety lecture before starting to demonstrate different knots on a volunteer, with Charly in the role of the top for this scenario. Watching her calmly contort and restrain another human being while calmly explaining the psychology behind it was… kind of terrifying. I had to constantly remind myself that this person volunteered and that Charly was experienced on both ends of the rope.

One more sweep of the room landed me with only a dozen or so drinks left on top of a pile of empty trays. I backed into the kitchen to sanitize and re-load the trays, only to hear Sebastian swearing. “Who the hell brought chili!?”

“Apparently someone thought it was a good idea,” I shrugged, baffled. I mean, it didn’t seem like a good idea to me, but this wasn’t exactly my area of expertise. “Maybe we put it in bowls, set up a little station in one of the break areas, with toppings? Let people help themselves?”

“Bondage potlucks and chili…” He shook his head. “Trying to remind myself that I’ve seen weirder things, but…”

“I can promise you, they are having fun. And they’re hydrated!” I shook my mostly empty platter of blobs at him.

Sebastian went out to retrieve more food from the people who brought it, and I kept rolling sausages in dough. “More fudge!” he crowed. “I snagged a piece of the first batch, and it was amazing.”

“You clearly do not see the irony,” I muttered where he couldn’t hear me. “Oh, heavens, no chili! But fudge… fudge is fine…”

The next time I was able to break free and take my designated lap, a slight bit more chaos had descended as everyone had gotten more comfortable. Several of the more experienced were examining and complimenting each other on their knots and arrangements of their subs. Ivan and Jokul were doing…. Something… that involved Ivan in a gorgeous evening gown and Jokul with a gag in his mouth. I was almost done with my circuit when a thud reverberated behind me and a black cloak whipped by.

“For the love of…” Arthur growled. I thought he was going to dribble the cowering man he was glaring at like a basketball, but instead he brandished a marker and made two quick X’s on a bare pair of buttocks. “Here and here. Only here and here.” With an irritated flourish, he wrote NOT HERE across the small of the attached back. “This will give someone kidney damage. Specifically you if I catch you doing it again.” Ducking around to the face of the person he had just used as a whiteboard, he shook his finger. “And I’m not even going to apologize, because you have a safeword and you need to use it. First, last, and only warning, you two. If that hit had been any more than a nervous first tap, you wouldn’t even be getting that.” Without a word, he snagged the cane sitting on the table nearby and took it with him. “They aren’t getting anywhere near the cane, fucking idiots. Gotta talk to Charly about those two…” he muttered as he blew back past me, so angry he didn’t even acknowledge that I was standing there.

I almost dropped the stack of empty platters when the Imperial March started playing while Arthur stomped back into his position over the bar. “Attention, Deviants! Courtesy of some poor practices I’ve seen, I would like to invite Sir Coffey and his pet fae Charly to give us a tutorial on safe and proper impact play!” Applause started as he beckoned them forward, Sebastian theatrically adjusting the lights to center in front of the stage.

I ducked back into the kitchen as Coffey’s voice rang out over the crowd, explaining yet again safewords and consent before launching into what toys were used how and where. A little public humiliation never hurt anyone, I joked with myself. At least not for some of the people out there.

<< Prev Masterlist Next >>

#the miys #found family #humans are weird #science fiction #aliens #apocalypse #humans are space orcs #humans are space fae #earth is space australia #post apocalypse #post post apocalypse #original science fiction #original sci fi #original writing

53 notes · View notes

stonesparrow · 4 years ago

Note

You seem like the right person to go to for some thoughtful meta analysis

Here's something that has bothered me for ages - the lack of cultural info for Ishigami Village (and the Petrification Kingdom but that's a whole post on its own)

I can accept that they haven't made their own writing system. Ok, fine, cool. But they have art cause the one kid is a really good artist! Where is the art??? And music? Humans love making noise, so even if they hadn't heard someone of Lillian's caliber before they should've at least heard music before (the lithophone would've been such a fun one to incorporate - like "haha they have a stone instrument in the stone world! Aren't we clever?"). It showed them hitting a drum to signify the beginning of the grand bout, but it would've been so cool to hear the music they had developed and to see if any of the influences of the 21st century remained.

Also what's with the ropes they wear? (other than perhaps being a clever indicator to show who is from the 21st century and who is from Ishigami village) And why didn't Senku get a rope when he became their leader? They could've made it so cool and significant!

I just feel like all we know about their culture is that they're all named after rocks, minerals, and metals (which is very cool! But I want More)

What are your thoughts?

Hummm cultural development for Ishigami Village?

I feel like music is definitely important in the village - I believe there’s a quote from one of the novels where Byakuya tells Lillian that he’s prioritizing oral traditions instead of written language so that they can preserve modern Japanese or something (which I personally think is a little sketchier than simply handwaving the whole “language didn’t change for 3,700 years” thing. Language can undergo a huge shift in a few centuries, let alone a few millenia. I wouldn’t be able to speak Elizabethan English very well at least)

The Hundred Stories is as close as you can get to a sort of sacred “text” in the village, and in Soyuz’ flashback on Treasure Island it’s revealed that Soyuz’ mother was selected as the Head’s wife for her incredible memory, so that Soyuz could learn the Hundred Stories. Besides the role of the priestess/prince??? to learn the stories and preserve them for the next Stories holder, Ruri was known to tell the Stories to the villagers as well, since they know the story of Momotarou and Speaker the Bee.

We know a good number of the Stories were about survival, and some are apparently long enough that they take hours to recite in their entirety. A few were hints for Senku, but then what does that leave for the rest? Byakuya wanted to preserve the knowledge of Japan, so would they perhaps be other kinds of fairy tales? Songs, folklore, history...mathematics? There’s apparently a filler tale called “G1 Grand Prix,” and one about comedy. There might even be stories about things that the old world had phrased in really simple ways like... electricity being “captured lightning” or “houses that touched the sky.”

I’d hazard a guess that music could easily be integrated into the telling of the Hundred Stories - some of them might even be told in song or with a rhythmic cadence. Ishigami Village hadn’t progressed to forging metal until Senku showed up, so they’d be slightly limited for instruments. Basic string and percussion instruments would be easy though, and perhaps things like wooden flutes.

Aww now I’m imagining that one of the Hundred Stories was like, advice to children to stay close to home and it was to the tune of a lullaby that Byakuya would hum to a baby Senku to calm him down.

I’m a little at a loss for a logical reason why everyone would be named after rocks and minerals. Setting aside the obvious pun with “Stone God Village,” names in all cultures are often derived from occupations or symbolic of characteristics or natural beauty. Plus the fact that the villagers have no tradition of family names or actually using many of the minerals complicates it somewhat (and the 6 person gene pool which is conveniently handwaved). Perhaps some people long ago were really into the stones and minerals story in the Hundred Stories and started naming their kids after them, since many minerals are described as beautiful or strong and tough.

The ropes...hmm. Many of the villagers wear them around the neck, or if not that then around the waist, plus some in the hair. Plus Kohaku apparently has a hairtie that’s separate from her hair rope, which means they’re accessories rather than anything practical. There’s not a real difference in the way ropes are worn according to gender or age either. Sagara getting a rope collar to symbolize being a part of the village might hint that it does mean something to them though? Perhaps when a new child is old enough that it won’t be a choking hazard they’re given their rope to symbolize being officially recognized as a citizen? As for Senku I guess Boichi just didn’t feel like adding more to his design, but I could see him tying one around his waist if he had one.

As far as clothing goes there’s also the stone shoes and blue/green colors in clothing, though Magma has a black outfit and Ruri’s is purple. It seems like it’d be pretty labor intensive to find plants and create all those richly colored dyes though. (also handwaved, but they gotta come from somewhere and I don’t know what would be available in southern Japan 3700 years in the future). It seems weird to me that Kaseki was sort of an outcast for enjoying craftsmanship as a kid - after all, crafting is one of the most valuable skills in a society and there had to have been craftsmen before him.

Evidently there’s no fabric since Yuzuriha had to explain what a loom was. Still, you could do a lot of artistic things with leatherwork. And agreed, I believe painting is a thing, perhaps there’s illustrations to go with the 100 Stories?

We do know that the villagers have a strong tie with water and fishing, and use single outrigger boats for fishing. It would make sense then that the ocean would have particular significance to them - perhaps they might even personify it or treat it as something to be respected. Fish is the main food, but culinary traditions could also rise from the forageables around the village, nuts and berries and the like.

They have a holiday called Stone Day on Senku’s birthday (aww Byakuya), though we don’t know how that’s celebrated. Though it does mean that the modern Gregorian calendar was preserved, so there has to be some kind of timekeeping being done, perhaps with a sundial structure like Stonehenge? Or some sort of drawn calendar with symbols even. They also have a tradition of watching the sunrise on the first day of a new year.

#dcst #dcst spoilers #dr stone #dr. stone #long post #ishigami village #oof this is a long one folks #ask

33 notes · View notes

damnzawa · 4 years ago

Note

henlo i'm not sure what your rules are for requests so i'm sorry if i'm doing this wrong i just love your writing uwu 👉🏼👈🏼 aizawa with an hero!s/o turned into a neko because they got hit by a quirk after fighting some villain? ��👉🏼👈🏼

(CAT)ASTROPHE — A. SHOUTA

Note(s): OMG ?? I ?? AM ?? SO ?? FLATTERED ?? THAT ?? YOU ?? LIKE ?? MY ?? SHITTY ?? ASS ?? AND ?? CLICHE ?? WRITING ?? also i live for these types of scenarios SO EFF YES

Warning(s): Poorly written fight scene, Aizawa having a mental breakdown, Cat Fluff

...

Being a pro-hero comes with a lot of pros and cons. For some, the pros may outweigh the cons and vice versa. Some even has a healthy balance of both. While you, you were one of the people who have pros outweigh the cons.

You weren't really the pro-hero to compete for the spotlight but you still had a good number of people who knows of you and what you could do. Though, you aren't as flashy as the others, you had a unique charm to you that draws people's attention towards you.

It was that charm that drew the infamous hobo man of U.A. to you, all in his yellow, shining (not really) sleeping bag glory. Though at first, he was irritated at the fact that you were just a natural at everything and everybody just seemed to love you. But as time went by, he realized that this charm of yours has truly captivated him. You weren't like the other pro-heroes he had met. No. You were unique. One of a kind. Genuinely different from the others.

After months of (silent) pining, he decided to just fuck it and ask you out on a date, in which surprisingly you happily agreed to. As time progressed, and two dates became 3, 4, 5, and counting, he got to know more sides of you. More characteristics to add to your charm. And by the time you reached your 2nd year anniversary, you guys decided to move in together—which was by far the greateat decision you and Aizawa has ever made.

Your charms are a part of your pros. It's what makes you, you. But unfortunately, you had yet to learn that it was one of your cons too.

It was the usual night patrol. Check any suspicious activity, check if anyone's doing crimes, check up on the stray cat on the alley, repeat. Honestly, some times patrols can be quite a bore. But you didn't mind. It was part of the job after all.

Cautiously walking down the street, you suddenly heard a scream from one of the alleys nearby. You quickly sprinted into action, not sparing another second as you rushed into the scene of the crime.

"Please! Don't hurt my child!" The woman screamed as the villain inched closer to them. Silently creeping up on the thug, you noticed that the villain had a weapon—a gun to be exact which was gonna be a pain if they ever shot the woman and/or his child. "Please! It's all I have! I promise!" A robbery? In the night? Typical villain move.

"Step away from them." You commanded the villain as you activated your quirk. A force field acting as a shield appeared out of nowhere, protecting the woman and her child from harm. You could tell that the woman was relieved, however, the child was still crying.

The villain chuckled as he turned around to face you, your hero name rolling off his tongue in a sinister way. "Well, well, well. If it isn't the saviors of society! The heroes! Protecting the world from evil doers such as myself." You could feel a speech coming. You honestly could feel it. "At least that's what you think. You heroes think you're good shit after taking down some bad guys but do you ever wonder about those who also suffer because of you?" He pointed the gun towards you making you squint at him. "I lost my family! Because of you guys! Because of that stupid Endeavor! You don't really care about the people! You just care about the fame! The money! The recognition you'll get after locking us all up in jail!"

"I assure you, heroes are not like that. Sure we have our own ambitions, but we all protect the people. That's our number one priority." Your response made him snarl. "And as much as I would love to stay and chat..." You activates your quirk once again, this time making whips out of light. "...It's time to pay for your crimes." You attacked him with the whip to which he skillfully dodged. He appeared from place to place with a blink of an eye, making it hard for you to apprehend him.

'Shit. A teleportation quirk? That's gonna be a pain in the ass.'

Dodging his punches that came out of nowhere, you kicked him in the gut. After reading watching his moves while dodging, you figured out that he has this pattern. He would first attack you in the back—which caught you by surprise the first time—then he would go for your front then your sides. It was the repeating pattern he used on you, so after getting used to it, you finally had the upper hand.

He was thrown a bit from the force of your kick but quickly recovered from it. He attacked you with another punch on your left which you countered by grabbing on his arm and twisting it until you heard a crack.

'Well now he certainly can't punch with that one.'

"You bitch!" He pulled out his gun and repeatedly fired shots at you. Every shot was a miss and then finally you encaged him in a box of light.

"Sweet dreams." And with that, you knocked him out with your quirk.

After putting on quirk nullyfing cuffs and a rope made out of light around his body, you checked up on the victims. The woman was repeatedly thanking you while the child was still shaken up.

"Hey now kiddo. It's alright. You're safe now." You approached him with a gentle smile on your face. You were about to place comforting hand on his shoulder when he suddenly shot up.

"No! Get away from me and my mom!" A sudden force emitted from his body as he pushed you to the ground.

"Oh my gosh! I'm so sorry about that!" You stood up and brushed yourself off as the woman repeatedly apologized for her son's behavior.

"No ma'am. It's alright. I'm fine, no harm done. See?" You flashed her a smile. "Kiddo, it's alright now. I'm a pro-hero. Police are on the way. Can you stay for a bit and tell them what happened?" The boy reluctantly nodded which made you smile even wider. "That's great then! You were brave out there kiddo."

"I'm sorry for using my quirk on you..." The boy muttered. You ruffled his hair and told him that it was alright. Though, you would surely see a paramedic later.

After the police arrived and collected your statements, you headed home with a headache. Apparently, the woman and her child doesn't know what his quirk actually is. The robbery might have triggered his quirk and you were the first one to be hit with it.

Great.

Just great.

You just hoped Aizawa was home too. You clearly need some of his A+ cuddles to ease the pain.

You arrived at your shared apartment shortly, but before you could even reach your shared bedroom, you blacked out.

...

Aizawa Shouta wasn't having the greatest day of his life. An eventful and rowdy day at U.A, then an eventful and extra rowdy patrol at night all while running with 3 hours of sleep? Yep. Not the greatest day of his life.

The grumpy man groaned as he remembered the stack of papers waiting for him back home. He could already feel the pain he was about to endure for the greater good of the future heroes he was teaching. He frowned as he imagined Kaminari's sloppy handwriting—and a possible doodle of him—in his homework, he could also imagine the cluster of words that didn't make sense brought to him by Mina Ashido.

But he could also imagine you greeting him with a kiss as usual. He could imagine your arms wrapped around him in a loving embrace, washing out the stress he previously had. He could imagine you rolling your eyes at him as he complained about you not getting enough sleep. He could imagine you helping him grade those forsaken essays he made his students do.

Well, maybe this day wasn't so bad for him. After all, he had you to go home to.

After opening the door, he expected you to greet him with open arms and ask him how his day went. He expected you to make fun of his struggles as a teacher and remind him that it was his choice to teach to begin with. But instead he was met with silence and no you.

To: Y/n

From: Shouta

Are you patrolling late tonight?

He waited for a few minutes but he didn't recieve a reply. He sent another message, and another, and another, until he finally decided to wash up and wait up for you just incase anything happens.

Just as he was about to enter your shared bedroom, he noticed your hero costume on the floor, a lump of something breathing underneath it. He lifted your hero costume, revealing a (h/c) cat—who stirred at his actions—sleeping peacefully. His hand instinctively reached down to pet it, feeling the smooth fur on his fingertips. The petting caused the animal to wake up, it's tired eyes looking at him with such warmness it was almost so familiar yet he couldn't remember where it's from.

"Shouta?" Aizawa froze on the spot as he heard your voice leaving the cat's mouth. He blinked owlishly, trying to process what the hell happened. Did the cat just speak? And did the cat sounded just like you?

"Why the hell are you so big? Did something happen?" You—the cute cat infront of him—asked as you unconsciously started to rub your cat chin into his shoulder.

"Y/n, I should be the one asking you that." You perked up at his response, head tilting as you waited for an answer.

"What do you mean?" Oh god you were giving him the cute eyes.

"Y/n, you're a cat."

"I'm a cat." You repeated. "Wait—what?" You blinked as you realized what had happened. Oh. So this was that child's quirk. "Shit."

"Shit indeed." Aizawa picked you up gently and placed you on the bed. "Mind telling me what happened?"

"Ok so..."

...

Aizawa secretly carried a laser on him the next day. You were dismissed of your hero duties for a week (because that's how long the quirk's gonna last) and was stuck in the apartment all day so he figured you could use a little fun right?

Right...

You greeted him as usual, but instead of human you, cat you is rubbing your body around his ankles and making a '8' shape as you circled his feet. It was quite cute to be honest. He had a soft spot for cats and you after all. He tried his best not to melt then and there.

"I've got something for you." Your ears went forward and your tail erected with it's fur flat at the statement. Clearly, you were happy. Aizawa brought out the laser thingy he had and started pointing it towards the wall, to which you suddenly leaped for. You followed the dot everywhere it landed and Aizawa couldn't help but smile at the sight infront of him.

...

"Shouta." You poked his cheek. "Shouta." You poked it once again. Why were you poking him exactly? Well, you were hungry and it was in the middle of the night. You couldn't reach the pantry nor the fridge handle so you reluctantly asked Aizawa for help. Somehow, he wouldn't budge. After poking him a couple more times, he opened an eye that showed that he was clearly annoyed by your behavior.

"What?" Came his gruff reply.

"I'm hungry." Aizawa sighed as he stood up and blinked the sleep out of his eyes.

"Fine." Sluggishly walking towards the kitchen, he looked at you silently trailing behind him. "You want tuna?"

"Haha, very funny Shou."

"Is that a yes or a no?"

"Yes please."

...

You purred as Aizawa rubbed the spot behind your ears. It was becoming a habit for Aizawa to pet and rub you like this and honestly, he was enjoying it—not that he'd ever tell anyone about it.

You insisted to not cancel your annual dinner date at your shared apartment which consisted of eating takeouts and watching whatever was on Netflix. You and Aizawa happily ate your food—you ate tuna... again—and now, the both of you were watching some Studio Ghibli film, well atleast you were supposed to.

You quickly got distracted once Aizawa started petting you, leading to you not focusing on the film at all. Aizawa's eyes was still on the film playing but you were sure he was also distracted. You found it a bit weird that the both of you quickly adjusted to this cat life and that neither of you freaked out at all. Maybe it was the pro-hero sides of you, who knows. But it was nice to see Aizawa helping you in any way that he can.

His petting abruptly stopped as he stiffled out a yawn. You looked at him and saw that he looked completely exhausted. More so than usual.

So, you hopped out of his lap and switched off the TV as you nudged Aizawa's leg with your paws.

"Come on Shou. Let's go to sleep."

Aizawa did not decline your offer and gladly followed you out of the room.

...

By the end of the week while having breakfast a loud 'poof' and smoke suddenly covered the whole room. After the smoke cleared, it revealed you in all of your naked human body glory.

"Welcome back, Y/n."

"Oh shut up, Shou."

ADDITIONAL NOTE(S)

This was fun to write! I hope I did this right though lolol. Also, requests are open!!

#boku no hero academia #my hero academia #aizawa shouta x reader #aizawa shouta/reader #eraserhead x reader #eraserhead/reader #aizawa/reader #x reader #aizawa shouta #aizawa x reader #NEKO!READER FUCK YES #aizawa and cats?? purrfect #haha the title's a pun #I LOVE HOBO MAN

255 notes · View notes

itsmalachitenow · 4 years ago

Text

BAT001- Down the Rabbit Hole

BAT001 – Case #0212403, taken from the files of Office 31 of the Gotham City Police Department

Statement of Alice Pleasance, regarding her close encounter with one Jervis Tetch.

-STATEMENT BEGINS-

I know. I know, okay? You don’t have to tell me. I know I don’t match the picture on my driver’s license. I’ve been meaning to get it redone. But when you’ve been missing for a month and a half, a lot of things you mean to get done get piled up, and it takes awhile to deal with them. If the hair dye and piercings bother you that much, I can just leave.

…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. It’s just…all of this has been awful for me. I think coming in and saying what happened, getting it all put down on paper, will help me process it. At least, that’s what my therapist says. You’ll have to bear with me. A lot of it is blurry now.

So….here we go. From the top.

It started with a hole in the road.

It was February 13th. …I don’t actually remember which day I disappeared, but that was apparently the last time anyone had seen me, so that’s what we’re going with. I remember feeling…sad. Lonely. You know that feeling when you see couples walking around everywhere and you’re single? Yeah. That’s it.

I was heading home. I work…worked at…a division of Wayne Enterprises. I was a secretary. I can’t do it anymore, though, after what that bastard did to me. But we’ll get to that.

I was taking a different route from usual. I thought I’d pick up some takeout on the way home, maybe a tub of ice cream, really treat myself, you know? To hell with valentine’s day and to hell with romance. Who needs love, right?

And…I guess part of me was hoping I’d find something interesting. Something to brighten up my day.

I turned down the street corner and was debating what I’d order from Dragon Palace when I saw the hole.

Now…you have to understand. This was a big hole. It was big enough to take up the entire street. I wondered if there was some kind of renovation going on with the sewers or repaving the road, but there wasn’t any kind of construction equipment or signs anywhere.

…but there was a stuffed rabbit.

It was a battered old thing. I think it used to be white, but now it was more of a dingy yellow color, with patches of fur scuffed off. Honestly, I got a creepy vibe from it. I remember staring into its big glass eyes and wondering if the kid who’d dropped it was better off for losing it.

And then it moved.

Not on its own, of course. I’m not an idiot. Something…tugged it, towards the hole, and it skidded across the pavement until the tugging stopped.

By that point, I was ready to get the hell out of there and go home the usual way. This is Gotham. I knew something fishy was going on, and I didn’t want any part in it. So I tried to turn around…

…and stopped.

Maybe that’s the wrong way to say it. I guess I should say, something stopped me from turning.

I could still move my feet, my arms, my head! But whatever had grabbed me wasn’t letting me do anything with them.

I saw the rabbit skitter a few feet forward again.

But this time, some force pulled me after it. It was…like someone wrapped a rope around me, and was pulling it like they were pulling the stuffed toy.

By that point, I was wondering if I was dreaming. I had to be, right? Even then, I recognized the similarities to that story—Alice in Wonderland? I know this is Gotham, and things are weird in Gotham, but girls named Alice don’t just chase a toy rabbit into a hole that spawned in the middle of the street. They don’t!

But it kept going. The rabbit would move, and then I’d move. It would move, then I would move. Until eventually the rabbit disappeared down the pit, and I was standing at the very edge of it.

My heart was beating so hard I could hear it, watching that stuffed toy fall into the darkness. I remember listening for it, waiting to hear it hit the ground…

…but somehow, some part of me knew that I wouldn’t.

I tried to fight back. But whatever was pulling me didn’t like that, and it gave one more hard yank. The next thing I knew, I was tumbling down, down, down into the dark.

This is where it all gets blurry for me. So…sorry in advance, I guess.

I was screaming. I remember that much, even though everything after the fall is…murky. I was screaming my head off as I fell down that pit. But somehow, the landing didn’t kill me. I hit something soft…mushrooms? Were they mushrooms? I think they were.

But now the rabbit was back in sight, and now I could see what was moving it. There was a bright red string attached to it, and it was pulling the thing along.

And now there was a bright red string attached to me, coming out of my chest, and it was pulling me right along after it.

I don’t remember how long I ran. It was a very long hallway, with twists and turns…I remember doors. But I didn’t give them so much as a second glance. I wouldn’t have, even if I weren’t struggling to keep my balance with the thread pulling me along. Some part of me knew…that they weren’t for me. Does that make sense?

Whatever. The doors don’t matter. The hallway doesn’t matter—it eventually gave way to…all these bright colors. It seemed like the landscape was changing itself around me. I remember flowers bigger than me, ones that waved to me as I passed them, I remember a technicolor forest…

…but we didn’t stop until we reached the tea party.

It was a huge table, about twenty feet long, covered in all kinds of teapots and cups. There were a few people sitting there. But…it was wrong. The whole thing was wrong.

A man and an older woman were seated across from eachother, drinking tea and chattering about something I couldn’t hear. But none of their movements were on their own—they had red string, the same kind that was attached to me, wrapped around all their limbs. Like puppets…they were like human puppets, being guided through the motions, with half-lidded and glassy eyes.

And sitting between the two of them was a man. That bastard—Jervis Tetch. I know his name now, but at the time I just thought he looked like the Mad Hatter had stepped straight out of the storybook. His fingers were entwined in red string, and he was playing cat’s cradle with them. Do you know that game? The one where you take a large loop of string and make shapes with it? That’s what he was doing—staring intently at his fingers as he moved the string and contorted it.

…and then he looked at me.

He stopped his hands, and the others at the table stopped what they were doing. They just…hung there, like marionettes. Lifeless.

Those huge red eyes were boring into me. He said my name, like a question. “Alice?” He tilted his head at me, like a kid might do at an unexpected toy.

I didn’t say anything. At least, I don’t think I did. I didn’t understand anything that was going on.

And then he smiled at me. That smile…it was horrible to look at. It curled across his face, wider than any human’s should be, with more teeth than any human should have. And what he said next, I remember more clearly than anything else in that horrible place.

“Your hair wants cutting.”

He never did, though. Cut my hair, I mean. In fact, I think my hair was his favorite thing about me—the way he’d coo to me as he brushed it…he ended up putting those same strings on me that those other people had. I couldn’t fight back—he was stronger than I was, especially once the strings were on. My limbs just…stopped working.

The rest of it is mostly a fever dream. We had tea parties and played croquet and ran about, all with me in some hideous Alice dress and parroting the things he wanted me to say. I begged him to let me go, of course. But he’d just tut and tap my nose. Something about me being ‘naughty’. Oh, I could’ve killed him.

None of it felt real. It was…it was bad. That’s the only way I can think to summarize it. Icky. Not right. Wrong. Jesus—listening to myself is painful. Any of those words, amplified a hundred times, wouldn’t be enough to describe the sensation that went on down there, down in ‘Wonderland.’

I saw him kill a man down there. Or maybe the man was already dead. Either way, when the Hatter took a pair of scissors out of his coat and cut the threads holding him up, he didn’t try to get back up again. The Hatter just shook his head, and I watched the dead-eyed man sink down into the floor like quicksand. How many others had he done that to??

Toys. We were all toys, to be discarded when we were too broken to be fun anymore.

There were dozens of people down there.

Not just anyone, either—some of them…some of them I recognized. Cheryl Reed, an older woman who worked in the same building as me—she was down there too, dressed up all in red and crowing for decapitation. She didn’t recognize me, even when I pleaded her to. Or maybe she was just pretending. When the Hatter stomped his foot and demanded we ‘stop that nonsense’, neither of us felt like fighting back.

Neither of us wanted to end up like that man on the floor.

…thinking back…I don’t think all of us were tied up. There was a man who was…different. I know he was different, because he could walk around on his own. No strings. And I never saw the Hatter dress him. Instead of the gaudy colorful clothes he put us in, this person was walking around in a drab brown business suit. He was…tall, yes, he was tall. Taller than the Hatter by at least a foot or two. Brown hair. Glasses…a very sharp chin.

He’d show up sometimes. The Hatter would get very excited when he came to the table, and he made me curtsey to him the first time he came. Introduced him as…J…something. It was a J name. Jonah? James? I guess it doesn’t matter. The name the Hatter gave him was ‘the March Hare’. Whoever he was, the March Hare made it very clear that he wasn’t interested in helping me, or any of us. He’d sit down and talk to the Hatter. I could never follow the conversation, or remember it clearly. …always something about ‘spirals’, I think.

But the important bit here is that the March Hare could leave.

He had a pair of scissors in his pocket, and he’d just….cut through the air, tear a large dark hole into reality, and step through it. The Hatter would stitch it back together with the same red thread he used on the rest of us, though the closed rip would eventually fade into nothing.

It’s how I escaped.

See, most of the time he would take me with him wherever he was going or whatever game he was playing. I was his favorite that way. But everyone else, he’d have them doing something on their own without him having to constantly keep an eye on them. I guess you could call it ‘autopilot’.

After some romp with the Walrus and the Carpenter, we were coming back to the tea table, and I saw a chance at salvation. The Hatter’s scissors weren’t in his pocket anymore—they were laying there, on the floor, just under the tablecloth. He must have dropped them! I knew I had to act fast—who knew when I’d get another chance?

I brought up some fake inconsistency—that the Carpenter had a limb loose, or something like that. I remember how agitated he got. Insisting to me that no, the Carpenter did not have a loose limb, all the strings were still tightly in place. But I kept insisting, and he actually started to doubt himself to the point where he finally buckled and was going to go back and check. He tried to bring me along, but I huffed and said my feet were tired, I wanted to sit down and drink my tea and eat my biscuits.

Normally he would’ve scolded me and made me come along anyway, but I think by that point I’d stressed him out enough that he just let me sit as he hurried off, and for the first time in what felt like years, I was alone again.

It took…a lot of effort, to move on my own. It’s probably the hardest thing I’d ever done. But I managed to pull against the strings, to bend down, to pick up the scissors. And I cut myself free.

The minute the blades cut through the first strand of thread, I knew I’d made a mistake. He’d felt it. And he was coming back. Fortunately, with my arm free, it was much easier to get the rest of the string off of me.

I almost didn’t get out. By the time I was off my strings, the Hatter was practically flying back towards me, angrier than I’d ever seen him. He was screaming at me, screaming at me to stop, that he’d punish me if I went any further.

I tried swinging the scissors through the air, and I almost sobbed when nothing was happening. No portal was appearing, no salvation was coming…I was going to be a doll forever, or until he decided he was done with me.

But then, a thought drifted through my mind. It was something one of my old lecturers at university had said. The gist of it isn’t really important here—but I remembered the phrase ‘fabric of reality.’

When I was thinking of that phrase, suddenly I felt the blade of the scissors catch on something, and I was quick to pull it down. Like you’d tear through a sheet of fabric in your way.

Just before he could grab hold of me, I dove into the hole I’d made.

And then I woke up.

…well…I woke up on the pavement, with paramedics and a crowd gathered around me, along with reporters. The missing Alice Pleasance, returned home in strange clothes, and…you know the rest. Read the newspaper articles if you really want a rehash of that. Honestly, lying there on the street, I thought it really was a dream, that maybe I’d just gotten hit by a car or something and blacked out….but there’s a problem with that. One, I’d been missing for a month and a half, and two, I still had the Hatter’s scissors. I’m leaving them with you. Lord knows I don’t want them. And maybe they’ll help in your investigation.

I cut my hair. It was the first thing I did once I was out of the hospital. I threw out most of my old clothes, all of them were too close to the costumes he had me in for my liking. And every time I looked in the mirror, I saw Alice. Sweet, sassy, stupid Alice, from the books. …I can’t even think of those books now without feeling sick.

I had to quit my job. I can’t focus for long periods anymore, no matter how hard I try. I just lose track of the time, and all of a sudden it’s four hours later than when I last checked. Most of the time, I just stay in nowadays.

…and that’s not all…

Sometimes, when I look around outside…I can see red strings everywhere. Covering everyone. Guiding them. Controlling them. It’s not real. I know it’s not real. And most of the time, I can blink a few times or rub my eyes, and the strings will be gone.

Jervis Tetch…that monster…he ruined my life.

I don’t know how you’d go about capturing someone like that.

But I really hope this helps you catch him.

Archivist Notes: The scissors Ms. Pleasance included with her statement are now in artifact storage, awaiting inspection. If what Ms. Pleasance says is true, this marks the first documented case where someone’s ever escaped from Jervis Tetch—alive, anyway, instead of lying dead in some back alley as if they’d dropped from the sky.

One other thing to note is the description of the ‘March Hare.’ It might be a stretch, but it aligns very closely with a missing person’s report that’s currently ongoing. The case of one Jonathan Crane, missing for at least a year, and appearing in proximity to dangerous individuals. Something to look in to.

-END DOCUMENT-

#batmagnus archives #batman #the magnus archives #my writing #tma #alice pleasance #jervis tetch #mad hatter #the mad hatter #batman au #magnus archives au

19 notes · View notes

kermitbread · 4 years ago

Text

a little thingy I don't plan on continuing. my only context for this is... witches, cat boys and... that's it lmao

sorry I haven't been posting too much writing. I haven't been confident about it lately ;w;

The chanting was getting louder the more closer they moved.

Nene had no idea where those people were taking her, because for one thing, she was blindfolded. They even tied her wrists behind her back and unceremoniously carried her away from her house. Wow, way to interrupt a girl from her leisure time, huh?

She could hear the crackling sound of fire and loud shouts of "kill her!" from the angry voices of the townspeople, which finally lead her to understanding what was happening. It had just been her luck that she decided to live in a town that greatly loathed her kind.

Yes, she was a witch. And currently she was going to get executed in the middle of town for many people to see.

What fun.

There wasn't any use on telling them that she wasn't like the bad witches at all. It wasn't like she was bad, it was just that she knew how people would react to the fact trying to explain things would be rendered useless from their moments of delusion.

How in the world did they find out? Was she not being careful enough? Did some kid see her using some minor spells on her garden and snitched? Or did someone see her idly sharing a conversation with that black cat that visited her from time to time?

Ah, whatever. She was going to die and that was gonna be the least of her worries now.

She got dropped onto the ground and pushed against a pole, hands tying her waist around it securely. Something prickly brushed against her legs, which she figured was a bunch of hay underneath her.

"Burn the witch! Kill her!"

So this was how she was going to go, huh? Getting burned to a crisp for everyone's viewing pleasure. Well, if she had any regrets, one of them was not getting a boyfriend. It's because of my ankles right? No wonder they wanna kill me. Me being a witch, and my stupid ankles.

And that little black cat. He would be very sad when he finds out she couldn't make it for their everyday talks together. Maybe he could find a new, cuter witch to be with now? Not like he wanted to stick around a witch with radish legs, right?

The smell of smoke was beginning to become more apparent. She could feel the heat from the fire coming closer and closer. There were many shouts that repeated the same phrase over and over again, and a part of her just wanted them to get over the entire thing already so she wouldn't have to listen to them.

Funny that she still had the audacity to get annoyed on the verge of death.

She heard her name getting shouted with desperation, as she quickly recognized the voice. Ah, Aoi. I'm sorry that I have to leave you behind so abruptly.

The flames were getting closer, to the point she could feel the heat starting to get stronger. This was it. Unless there was some sort of miracle that would happen, which would be nice, there was no turning back now.

"That's a little bit extreme of you people, isn't it?"

All of a sudden, she felt all the ropes that tied her loosen, and herself getting pulled away from the fire that was about to burn her alive. It all happened so fast, she wasn't even able to process what just happened.

"Hey! What are you doing?! We're trying to get rid of her!"

The voice—which belonged to a boy that she seemed to sorta recognize—only laughed. She squeaked when he suddenly flipped her over and she got plopped into someone's arms, probably belonging to him.

What in the world was going on this time?

"Trying to burn a cute girl is considered rude, no? I'm sure we can all understand that." Nene felt her cheeks warm up at the thought of that boy calling her cute. Can you blame her, it was the first time a boy had ever said anything like that around her.

"But she's a witch! If we don't kill her now, she's going to kill all of us!"

"Tch, you humans and your irrationalities." It was strange that he refered to them as 'humans', as if he wasn't one of them.

Maybe he was like her, in a sense?

The air kicked up around her and before she knew it, she was being carried away by her still unidentified savior from the crowd of angry townspeople. She heard Aoi calling after her in a worry, before ultimately the voices of the crowd were reduced to merely silence as they went further and further.

They finally stopped, and Nene could hear water close by. They seemed to be near a river, one that was beyond the outskirts of the town.

Pulling her blindfold off she tried to squint through the dark in order to get a better look at the person. Short dark hair concealed by the hood of his cloak, and golden eyes that looked like the kind that would probably glow in the night if that were possible. She didn't realize she was staring at him until he decided to look back at her.

"You are one clumsy witch, you know that, Yashiro?"

Now how did he know her name? She doesn't recall meeting him at all. Or even seeing him around town for that matter.

He seemed to be irked at her confused look, as he sighed to himself, setting her back down on her feet. He pulled back the hood off his head, revealing... cat ears.

"You seriously don't recognize me, Yashiro? Am I that generic looking?"

Wait. It couldn't be possible, right? Like, she's a witch, sure, but even she thought it wasn't capable of happening at all.

Or was it?

"H... Hanako-kun?" She softly said, unsure whether she was right. Fortunately she was, as seen by how his face brightened up at the mention of the name.

"That's right! It's me! So you do recognize me after all!"

"T-that can't be right! Hanako-kun's a..." Nene trailed off when Hanako walked right up to her and bent over, leaning forward up to her face with a smile.

"This is my real form, you see. I wouldn't be able to save you from getting killed if I stayed a cat now, right?"

"I know that! It's just that... why did you save me? You barely know me, apart from those three months." Nene shifted her foot around, deciding to look down at the grass instead of his eyes.

It wasn't like he saved her for any special reasons, right? If only she wasn't such a hopeless romantic.

Hanako tilted his head to the side, still smiling all the way. "I like you, though. That's enough of a reason for me."

"Huh?!" That was totally uncalled for! What in the world did he mean by that?!

"I said..." Now their faces were so close to each other, to the point she hoped he didn't see how red her face was getting. "I like you, Yashiro."

"As a... as a friend?" She managed to ask, but for some reason she hoped it wasn't the case.

Only a little, though.

Hanako finally pulled away from her personal space, and he turned up to look at the night sky for a while to contemplate, then turned back to her.

"That's up to you to decide." He replied, sticking his tongue out with a playful wink.

"Wha—you jerk!" Nene stomped over to him, trying to punch him on the chest. Of course he was joking! The boy had the habit of misleading her with his words, even before he showed his true form to her. Why was she even disappointed in his answer, anyway?

"Aha, settle down, Yashiro." Laughing, Hanako takes both her hands into his. It was hard to keep a straight face when Nene was making such a cute angry face.

He saw light from torches coming closer to their location. Ah, crap. Those townspeople were on their tracks.

Picking Nene up from the ground once more, he plopped her behind his back, making sure she was secure. "We better move!"

"Eh—Hanako-kun, where are we even going to go?!"

He didn't turn to look at her, but it was clear that he knew what he was doing. "Don't worry, I'll protect you, Yashiro. So hold on, okay?"

Her heart beat fast again, another blush making its way into her cheeks once more. All she could so was nod and bury her face on his back, trying not to be too obvious.

Before she knew it, they were running away once more, away from the people chasing after them. Who knows where they were heading, but Nene had the feeling they were probably going to be just fine.

"Um... Hanako-kun, aren't I too heavy?"

"Yeah, actually—ow! I was just joking!"

#jibaku shounen hanako kun #toilet bound hanako kun #yashiro nene #hanako kun #anime #hananene #fanfiction #djkahdkskdh #how to make words #help #this has been in my drafts for a while now #just gotta get it out lmao #sorry for the long ass wall of text i got too excited

43 notes · View notes

starr-fall-knight-rise · 5 years ago

Text

Humans are Space Orcs “Swimming”

Wrote this one from a couple of requests wanting to know what Sunny would think about swimming. Hope its at least something fun to read on a Tuesday :)

Sunny had never seen so much blue before. The sky above and the water below stretching out to the horizon in all directions. The polar field in the sky above was a beautiful metallic rainbow that reflected off the water causing the entire planet to sparkle like a prism…..

It was terrifying.

Sunny had never seen so much water before. Of course their planet HAD water, it was sort of important when it came to life sustaining a planet, but most of it was in shallow rivers, and abandoned underground lava tubes and caverns. Most of her planet’s water was fed by underground springs, and the largest lake was located thousands of miles away on the other side of the planet meaning she had never actually seen it before.

Even those times she had visited earth, they had been located in the center of the landmass, and it barely occurred to her that the planet was almost 2/3s water. The humans seemed very excited about the entire thing, but as Krill had stated before, the vast majority of humans LOVED large bodies of water. She had no idea why, whether it was cultural or evolution that caused this, but it was sort of terrifying.

She found herself poised on the edge of lunging forward as her marines, and mostly Adam, leaned out precariously over the edge of the boat. She feared that the humans would fall in and drown or something and wished they would just relax, but there Adam was holding onto nothing more than a taut rope, feet braced against the side of the boat and leaning out over the water held up by a single hand. Wind whipped at his hair and shirt eyes closed and smiling.

She would generally have been glad to see that he was happy if he wasn’t hanging over a trillion gallons of liquid death.

Their boat cut a little right, and, in the distance, sunny could see a tall peak of rocks surrounded by a little beach that was no more than a football field all the way around. Clinging to the rocks she could see some sort of strange colorful plant-life, but it was too far away to see at this point.

She spent the next few minutes trying to keep the marines from falling off the edge of the boat, which in the end only earned her some weird looks. Krill floated mildly at the front of the boat, and oddly enough it seemed as if he was more relaxed than she was.

In his case, she was worried that he was going to fly off the edge of the boat and end up sinking into the depths below, but luckily, they made it to the tiny island, and the human hopped off onto the sand. The scientists began taking their samples , the water, the sand, the strange plant life. When everything was cleared, predictably, humans began touching things, mostly picking up the sand and marveling at how soft it was.

She pointed out they had no idea what kind of dangerous things could be in there, but Adam, the commander, lying on his back in the sand looked up at her with a grin, “Nope, not with the new protocol I made up. It's called the TISICTI for short, or for long the “Test it so I can touch it” protocol. Krill threw a fit enough times I thought it would be a good compromise.” He motioned towards the scientist, “What do you think we have them for.”

She frowned, “I sort of assumed they were here to do, you know, science and stuff. Like samples and testing and whatever else.”

The man shrugged, “I mean yes, but more importantly, they are here to make sure that we can safely touch things.”

He leaned his head back against the sand with his eyes closed, “Honestly, this planet isn’t exactly of particular interest accept for the water and beaches. NO sentient lifeform owns it. The biggest creature are weird sort of whales, and most members of the GA don’t want anything to do with it, so here we are.” His single eye popped open, “Oh, that reminds me.” He stood from the sand and motioned to the marines, “Break out the cooler, and radio to the crew that the planet is non-toxic.” He rubbed his hands together with a grin, “Let's do this.”

Sunny watched for the next few minutes in fascinated confusion as the humans, transformed the little beach into an island paradise. Colorful blankets and towels she wasn’t even aware the owned were laid out across the sand with large umbrellas staked into the sand against the sun. Big blue coolers of drinks and snacks were set out every few yards. And soon enough other members of the crew began to appear docking boats on the designated part of their little island.

Unlike the marines, these crew members were barely dressed, lugging more towels, and large dark glasses that helped them block out the sun.

Adam Jumped up on one of the coolers just as things were getting started whistling very loudly so that the group turned to look up at him, “Alright, a few rules before we get started. This is not our planet, and you know human history of taking care of oceans and shit. By the time we leave, I want to make sure it looks like we were never here. For every piece of trash I find on the beach or in the water after this is all over, you all are getting docked pay by a credit. Each rock is to be thoroughly explored before you jump off. I don’t want anyone breaking their neck while out, and if anyone asks what we were doing today. You were performing reconnaissance for the suitability of human life. Got it.”

The humans let of a whoop of excitement, and Adam grinned, “Alright you crazy kids. The Mission starts now, and I expect a full report from every one of you once your done.”

Sunny had never seen an order followed so fast. Within the next few minutes humans were flrolicking in the water, and on the sand or simply lounging in the sun with their feet in the sand. The marines were relieved of their duty, and made quick time in removing all their gear exposing the fact they had expected something like this to happen.

Maverick walked past Sunny down the beach wearing nothing more than what sunny would have considered underwear and a baseball cap. She wasn’t entirely sure if she was supposed to feel uncomfortable with that, but none of the humans seemed to mind. In fact, there was a significant number of humans who were wearing even less which hardly made sense since humans made physical privacy a very big issue.

Apparently here that didn’t count.

She turned up the beach Just in time to find Adam struggling to pull off his gear. The pants got stuck on his foot and he pitched into the sand with a laugh shaking his foot trying to squeeze out of the tactical gear. When he stood up he was wearing nothing more than shorts and was partially covered in sand.

Walking past Ramirez raised a hand, “Wow commander, put a shirt back on. I’m being blinded.”

Adam turned to look at him, “oh please Ramirez, you are just jealous of my stunning physique.” He flexed just then sending laughter up through close by members of the crew.

Sunny looked between the two of them. Ramirez had a bigger chest and biceps, but she had to admit he may have skipped leg day a couple times. Adam clearly kept a schedule for his workouts. She would never have said it, to much a boost to his ego, but she would have given it to Adam

Then again, maybe she was biased.

However, Adam, and all the other marines had reason to brag if she knew anything about human physicality, so she decided to give all of them credit.

Adam walked past her towards the water UV light reflecting in diamond colors off his skin. Invisible stripes, to humans, covered his body in an intricate and almost beautiful pattern of swirls and striations. Generally, human skin color would have never been considered beautiful to a Drev, but with the addition of the invisible patterns on their skin reflecting in rainbow colors to sunny’s vision, it was actually quite beautiful.

“Hey Sunny, you Coming?”

She turned her head to follow him where he stood at the edge of the water, “I…. Into the water?” She stammered.

“Yeah, of course into the water.” He smiled, “That's the point of going to the beach.”

Sunny took a step back and then shuffled her feet in the sand.

Adam tilted his head, “hey, what’s wrong.”

She rubbed the back of her head with an upper arm, a habit she had picked up from the humans. “Well…. I….”

“Do you….. Not know how to swim?” He wondered. Behind him Maverick went floating past on her back

Sunny shook her head, “We…. don’t have large bodies of water on my planet.”

The man clapped himself on the forehead, “right, Right, I totally forgot. You know the GA classified our planet as Aquatic. Forget that that’s not normal.” He walked back up the beach feet slipping in the sand and then took her by the hands his one green eye reflecting the polar lines in the sky above.

“Come on. We’ll take it easy.” Still holding her hands, Sunny allowed him to lead her backwards down the beach towards the water, “You’ll be fine. I promise.” They had reached the edge of the water now, and with great apprehension sunny stepped into the water.

It was warm.

“That;s it, just keep coming. The man urged, and she stepped a little deeper. The water reached to her knees now, and high on the human’s thighs. He kept leading her into the water, and in apprehension, she watched as the water line drew up her stomach and towards her chest. However, the human stopped at about his chest height, “See, not so bad is it.” She moved her lower arms around in the water marveling at the strange sensation.

The human kicked his feet up spread his arms out, and was suddenly floating on the surface of the water. He kicked a little bit with his legs swimming around her in a circle before letting his feet down again, “Time to see if you can float…. I’m almost thinking maybe not, but that’s ok because we have life jackets.”

He swam behind her taking her by the shoulders, “Ok, I just want you to lay back rise your feet and just let your arms hang out to the sides, I promise you won’t drown, and you can stand up at any time.”

Sunny nodded in apprehension but leaned her head back and kicked her feet up off the bottom. The human supported her weight from behind,and past the water she could feel his hands on her back. Water rushed against her ears muffling all noise around. He let his hands relax, and to her dismay, she began to sink, but just as she was beginning to feel panic, hands pushed her back to the surface and stood her back up. The human smiled at her then winked, which in his case was more of a blink, “Guess you're too dense, but that's ok.” he turned back towards the beach, “HEY RAMIREZ!”

The human sat up on his beach towel and lowered his sunglasses, “What!”

“Toss me some of those water wing things right next to you, yeah.” Sunny watched in interest as four strange air filled rubber doughnuts were tossed to them.

“Hold a second.” He said grabbing one of her arms and slipping It through the doughnut until it was high up on her arm. He did that three more times and then had her try the floating thing again. To her surprise, it worked, and though her feet sank, Adam’s instruction to lightly kick her feet helped to keep her lower half upwards in the water.

It was honestly kind of relaxing.

The human kept close by one hand on her arm.

Eventually she felt comfortable with letting him go. He showed her how humans swim openly admitting that he wasn’t the best at it. He knew freestyle and backstroke, which sort of just involved kicking your feet and pinwheeling your arms. Generally she was mostly just impressed on how fast the humans could swim when they clearly weren't meant for an aquatic environment.

She learned the hard way that humans could dive as well when Adam vanished under water for more than ten seconds and she began to panic. He popped up a few years to her left seconds later shaking water from his ears.

At one point she was floating on her back just relaxing when she felt something suddenly grab her leg.

She shrieked in panic and flailed about in fear. Then a body erupted from the water. Maverick peered at her through a set of dorky goggles spewing water through a tube connected to her mouth. She removed the tube and grinned at Sunny, “He he, almost pissed yourself right there.” Before Sunny could retort, the human vanished under water once again swimming away only to drag Adam underwater.

Sunny watched in worry thinking that she was trying to drown him, but apparently dunking someone was considered acceptable.

Eventually they moved closer to the beach, and they began a game with a brightly colored ball knocking it into the air and trying to keep it from touching the water Sunny was pretty good at the game, but wasn’t excited when she ended up falling and vanishing below the water. She almost freaked out before remembering she could stand coming up and spewing water from her nose. The humans laughed at her.

A few hours of that was followed by another few hours of lying in the sun on the sand. Adam requisitioned one of her arms as a pillow and ended up falling asleep in the humid warmth.

He eventually woke up when someone announces they had discovered a diving rock, and Sunny watched as Krill almost had a conniption when the humans began leaping from twenty feet up and into the water. Sunny almost followed his lead when the humans began doing tricks. Adam was the first, leaping outwards, and then pitching downwards face first hands held above his head. Sunny was sure he'd break his face doing something like that, but he came back up to a cheering crowd.

If that wasn’t bad enough they began doing flips after that rotating backwards and forwards and sideways attempting to spin as many times as possible. Yet none of them ever seemed to get hurt upon doing this.

One of the human lab technicians managed two flips which turned into a dive, and it turned out she had been a competitive diver at university. That thought worried sunny because that meant there were humans out there who flipped themselves around off of high places just to look cool, and they did it for a living.

“Hey Ramirez, dare you to do a belly flop.” Adam said in passing to the other man.

Ramirez look up at the rock.

The rest of the group began chanting. Sunny did not like the sound of this, but the man shrugged and began climbing. The group began to scream and chant as he made it to the top of the rock.

Krill ran up just then, “Ok that’s it. Stop right there.”

Sunny looked down at him, mostly ignored, “What are they doing.”

“I don’t know,but when humans start chanting, it’s never good.” Ramirez took a step back and then leaped forward spreading his arms out wide to either side chest downwards.

The slap he made upon hitting the water was tremendous. Sunny winced and Krill cursed. The humans waited for a long moment staring at the water, but then Ramirez broke the surface gasping and the humans began to cheer.

He got a serious lecture fromKrill upon crawling onto land, his entire chest, legs, thighs and the side of his face one bright red welt.

Eventually she convinced Adam to stop by dragging him back out into the water. This time he appropriated a strange floating object in bright pink, and together they floated just off the beach using the pink thing as some weird sort of water cushion.

Sunny had no idea where humans came up with these ideas.

I was when the clouds started gathering in the distance that the humans decided now would be a good time to leave. They packed up all their things in record time and Adam had them comb the beach several times before allowing them to leave. Te shuttles reached atmosphere just as the massive hurricane passed below them. It was many miles wide, and radar detected that the surface winds were somewhere around two hundred miles an hour.

To say that Krill was not amused would have been a massive understatement.

Still though, the day had been fun.

She couldn't think of a better day in living memory.

747 notes · View notes

ninja-go-to-therapy · 4 years ago

Text

Whumptober 13: Breathe in Breathe Out

Choking

Did someone say hurt the monkey boy? What? No? Oh, too late :)

Summary: MK is captured by the Spider Queen.

Trigger Warnings: spiders, dehumanization, pet whump, choking and strangulation, panic attacks, physical and psychological torture, near death experiences, mild self harm

3596 words

MK curled in on himself, trying to block out the cold.

Fuck, it was so cold.

And… damp?

What was going on? He didn’t remember what had happened, or how he’d gotten here. He’d only woken up just now, tied up in the dark. His eyes had yet to adjust.

He shivered, jerking at the ropes that bound his hands behind his back. They didn’t budge.

It was definitely very bad that he couldn’t remember what had happened. He was pretty sure he remembered saving Pigsy and Tang from — ick — spiders (or like, a spider demon lady or whatever). Same difference. He shuddered. He absolutely hated spiders.

But on the bright side, they’d all gotten out of there, no problem!

Er… actually, considering that was the last thing he could remember, he wasn’t so sure if that was true. Where was he?

“Hello?” he called, cringing when his voice echoed loudly through the… wherever he was. Well, if anyone was here, they could definitely hear him.

Hopefully it was just Red Son or something. That guy was a loser, he’d be easy to defeat. Plus, MK had no doubt that his team was working on getting him out of here right this very moment.

Oh fuck, he hoped Pigsy wasn’t pissed at him for missing work again.

In his defense, this wasn’t his fault! Pigsy would probably understand. And if he didn’t, well, he had everyone else to vouch for him. Probably.

“Is anyone here?” he asked, the only response being his own voice echoing back at him.

Ugh, apparently he was alone down here — wait. He could hear something. Footsteps? No, it sounded different than that. Kind of like…

“Hush up now, little monkey.”

He looked around wildly, frustrated that he still couldn’t see anything. The sight of truth that the staff gave him would really come in handy right about now. Come to think of it, where was his staff?

The voice, which was previously kind of far away probably, was suddenly very, very close. “Can’t have you screaming, now can we?”

Oh fuck, he was just now remembering where he recognized this voice from. Oh no, was he back in the nightmare hole? Oh no, were there still all the creepy crawly spiders everywhere? Nope nope nope, he was absolutely not thinking about that right now. Ew… The absolute last thing he wanted in life was to be in a place that was absolutely crawling with… those.

“Untie me!” he said, struggling fiercely. Wait, if this was the Spider Queen and her nightmare hole, then…

Nope nope nope nope, he was suddenly very thankful that he couldn’t see much of anything. If he couldn’t see, then he couldn’t confirm whether or not he was actually tied with — ick — spiderwebs. He wanted to cry just thinking about it.

Why couldn’t she just use some good old fashioned rope? There was nothing wrong with rope! He would even be fine with chains, even if they pinched his skin! Just… anything but spiderwebs.

The Spider Queen laughed, the sound reverberating through the cave. MK really could do without this stupid echo. “Untie you? Oh, honey, where would be the fun in that?”

Well, that wasn’t the reaction he was hoping for. He wasn’t surprised, but still, it would have been nice if maybe for once—

“See, I was planning on eating you,” she said.

Eating him? Oh shit, oh shit, he’d forgotten about that in the midst of his earlier battle. Oh god, he didn’t want to be eaten! He was too young to die!

“You don’t need to eat me!” MK said hastily. “I mean, I bet I’d taste terrible! I would be totally disgusting! You don’t need a teenage boy who eats nothing but noodles! If you’re gonna eat somebody, at least eat someone who’s healthy!”

“I said was,” the Spider Queen said, cutting off his rambling. “But I’ve changed my mind.”

“You… have?” Oh, thank god. Being eaten sounded like one of the worst possible ways to go. He’d rather die. …Okay, that wasn’t a good comparison. Still, the point remained. He had officially found one thing worse than spiders. Being fucking eaten.

But spiders were still a very close second.

“Course I have,” she said. MK’s eyes were finally adjusting to the darkness, and he could now just make out her wicked smile. “I have a feeling you’re going to be so much more useful than just a light snack.”

MK shuddered at the idea. Thank god she’d changed her mind. Wait… why had she changed her mind? And worse, what exactly was she planning to use him for? He wasn’t sure he wanted to find out.

“I think the obvious solution here is to just let me go,” MK said, laughing nervously. “I mean, why keep me around if you’re not gonna eat me, right? And as we’ve already established, you’re definitely not doing that. Please don’t change your mind again.” He really needed to stop talking before he changed her mind for her.

She laughed again, but said nothing. MK, as best he could, squirmed uncomfortably in the following silence. He hated not being able to move his hands.

The Spider Queen hummed, observing MK carefully. She took his face in her cold hands, turning it side to side.

MK jerked his head free of her grip, glaring at her. “Unhand me!” he said, hoping he sounded confident and not, you know, completely terrified.

“I think we need a rundown on how this is going to work,” the Spider Queen said, standing up to her full height again. MK gulped, looking up at her in terror. Don’t focus on the spider thing don’t focus on the spider thing don’t focus on the spider thing.

He was fine. This was fine. It was all totally and completely fine. Everything was good!

“It would just be so much easier for the both of us if you would cooperate,” she continued, “You think you can be obedient, little monkey?”

MK wrinkled his nose at the wording she’d chosen. Obedient? Hell no! “I told you before,” he said, “I am a monkey man!” with that, he attempted to break free of his bindings heroically so he could then pummel her.

Which, theoretically, would have been great. If it had worked. Instead, he was stuck struggling in the ropes, wriggling around on the ground like a worm.

Well. This was going great.

“You are adorable,” the Spider Queen said, amused. “Yes, I think I can make this work quite nicely.”

MK was too busy looking and feeling like a fool to really pay attention to that. He could worry about it later, it was fine. For now, he needed to break out of this.

She looked down at him, and MK only struggled harder, if only to shake away the discomfort of being watched like that.

“You really are a little monkey,” she chuckled after a moment.

“Stop calling me that,” MK grumbled. He could feel it, he was almost free! Maybe, if he just kept stalling, he could take her by surprise.

She reached down, hoisting him back up so he was sitting upright again.

“Hey!” he cried, more offended than anything. “What are you doing?”

“Just trying to get a good look at my new pet.”

Oh, okay — come again now? What had she just called him? Oh god, and the way she’d said it — he wanted to vomit. He was pretty sure he could actually feel a bit of bile rising in his throat.

MK laughed uncomfortably. “Your new what now?” he squeaked. Dammit, that was supposed to come out sounding… well, definitely not sounding like he was a scared little baby. Which, he definitely wasn’t.

“Powerful little monkeys like yourself don’t need to be out leveling cities,” Spider Queen said, casual. MK waited for her to continue explaining, but she didn’t. Okay, that didn’t clear up his concern at all. In fact, it probably only elevated it.

“Okay, first off, I know the whole “Monkie Kid” title thing can be confusing, but I’m definitely a human. Like, completely a human. Not an actual monkey.” Plus, he hadn’t been out leveling cities, he’d been out stopping people like DBK from leveling cities.

All he got in response was a smug, “We’ll see about that.”

With that, she undid his headband, his hair awkwardly flopping into his face in its absence.

“Hey! Do you know how long it takes to get my hair to look good—?” he was forced to cut off as the headband was retied, rather tightly, around his neck. “What are you doing?” he asked, his voice becoming slightly raspy as his airway was getting cut off. “What are you — no — st-stop!” He gasped, and though his hands were tied behind him, he still tried to lift them so he could clutch at his neck desperately. He made no progress, and the band only tightened. He couldn’t take in enough breath to do more than make the tiniest of sounds.

The Spider Queen didn’t relent, pulling it so tight and cutting off MK’s air so quick that suddenly his vision was swimming with black specks and his head was going fuzzy like TV static.

He struggled to the best of his ability, using the last of his energy to get her to stop. Still, it wasn’t enough, and his eyes slipped shut. The world was darkness, a galaxy of nonexistent stars.

Finally, mercifully, just as he was sure he was going to die, it came to a halt.

He fell forward, unable to catch himself with his hands tied as they were, but grateful for the ability to breathe all the same.

He took in gulp after gulp of air, his entire body trembling uncontrollably. For a minute there he’d been so sure that it would be his last.

And then the Spider Queen said something that MK couldn’t even attempt to comprehend, and suddenly the feeling was back.

His neck was being absolutely crushed — but she wasn’t touching him anymore. How… why… stop…

Just like the first time, it went away right as all hope seemed lost. This time, the feeling didn’t come back, and MK was able to frantically take in as much air as his lungs allowed.

“What…” MK panted when he could finally breathe again, “What did you do?”

“Well, every pet needs a collar,” was all she responded with.

“What are you talking about?” he asked, “I already said, I’m… I’m…” oh man, he was way too lightheaded to be arguing right now. For a moment, he could only focus on taking breath after breath.

“Now,” she said, plucking at his hair and standing upright again. “I’ll take that, and…” she dropped it into a cauldron which definitely hadn’t been there before. Had it been? He couldn’t remember. Was he losing his mind? “You, my adorable little monkey, are going to help me reclaim my empire.”

And then, as if the lack of oxygen in his brain wasn’t bad enough, he was suddenly just… really… so fucking exhausted. The kind of exhausted that he could barely even find it in himself to move. The kind of exhausted that seeped into his bones and wouldn’t let go.

He slumped over on the floor, unable to hold himself up any longer.

He couldn’t just fall asleep… not here, not now. He didn’t even know how she was doing it, or what she was going to do to him if he did lose consciousness. He forced his eyes wide open, but they were fluttering shut anyway, against his will.

“Well, isn’t that just perfect?” the Spider Queen asked, likely rhetorically. If MK had the energy to think of a good response, he would definitely be doing that right now. He’d be all… uh… god, he was so tired. He could probably sleep for like, a thousand years.

He zoned out on whatever monologue she was giving. He couldn’t fight this exhaustion any longer. He just wanted to sleep…

He yawned faintly, drifting off and allowing himself to give in to the cold clutches of sleep. He couldn’t resist it, anyway.

The world faded away around him.

———

MK woke up what he presumed was a short time later, still completely out of it, but at least with enough energy to think.

He was alone. Thank goodness.

Alright, he had to get out of here. First he had to somehow get untied, and then he had to find his staff, and then he had to find a way out of here. That seemed simple enough. That was totally simple enough! He could handle this.

Carefully, he sat up, doing his best not to make any noise.

He had to get this perfect. Just the memories from earlier had him feeling nauseous, and he had a feeling that if he didn’t get out of here before the Spider Queen came back, there would be more where that had come from. He wasn’t exactly eager to experience that.

Hmm, maybe if he could find something sharp to cut the ropes — yes, he knew they were webs, but the very horror of that idea was too much to comprehend. It was easier to just think of them as regular old ropes. He really didn’t need to be sending himself into a panic attack right now.

He looked around for… he didn’t know, a pointy rock or something? Anything remotely sharp would do. Probably.

It took a minute, but he finally managed to get to his feet. He stumbled, biting back a shriek as he immediately tripped forward. With his hands tied behind his back, he couldn’t make an effort to catch himself.

His face collided with the floor. Hard.

The sound echoed throughout the cave. Oh shit, now not only was he in immense pain, but he definitely had a limited time frame to get away.

He scrambled to his feet again, leaning against the wall to steady himself before he took off in a staggering run. Forget the getting untied part, first he just had to get away.

He was actually making progress! He had been right, it was all completely working out. He’d be back home and cozy in bed before he could say noodles.

Don’t look back, don’t look back, just keep running.

Oh man, he could actually see light! Light meant freedom! He moved towards it, panting with effort and exhaustion. Almost there. He was almost there. He could take a nice long nap as soon as he got out.

He was so close.

And then he was choking again.

He fell to his knees, gasping for breath as the band — he absolutely was not calling it a collar, because it was just his headband — tightened around his neck.

Stop stop stop stop!

His lungs were already burning, and his neck was going to bruise, he was sure of it.

It hurt so bad, he just wanted it to stop, oh god.

“There you are,” the Spider Queen said, her voice barely registering in MK’s fuzzy brain. He just wanted it to stop. Nothing else mattered.

He was vaguely aware of his body being plucked off the ground.

“Can’t have you running off like that, little monkey. Lucky you, I have a delightful punishment picked out.”

MK, for all his fighting, could do nothing to stop her.

The band stopped squeezing the life out of him, thank goodness, but he had a sick feeling that whatever was going to come next would be just as bad (or worse).

He was all but thrown into a dark, disgusting cell. Full of… full of… nope nope nope too many spiderwebs, way too many spiderwebs.

“You’re going to stay in this dark, nice little cell — full of spiders, by the way — until you learn how to respect your queen. I’ll be back in the morning, little monkey. Let’s hope you’ve learned your lesson by then.”

With that, the cell door shut and locked, and MK was left alone. On the bright side, he finally managed to free his hands from their bindings. On the downside, he was alone. In a scary nightmare cell full of horrors.

Full of spiders.

His entire body jerked in a shiver.

He could hear scuttling — no doubt one of the horrifying little beasts themselves. Oh god, how many were there? He could barely see, he certainly couldn’t make out any insects.

What if they were everywhere? Was every inch of the place crawling with them? There were so many webs, too many webs, too many spiders, oh god.

He was struggling to breathe once again, practically hyperventilating as tears filled his eyes. The crushing panic of the situation was slamming into him.

He wanted to go home. He would take anything over this. He would take being thrown across a goddamn volcano over this.

Something scurried across his leg.

A quiet sob left his throat. He was sitting there, completely frozen, unable to do so much as flick the spider away. God, he was so pathetic.

He could swear more spiders were crawling on him, now. His skin was burning. They were everywhere. He couldn’t breathe.

His fingers twitched, but he couldn’t make himself move.

Tears were streaming from his eyes and his skin was so itchy and he couldn’t handle this, he really couldn’t handle this.

His face was growing numb from how hard he was crying.

He didn’t even realize that he was finally moving, barely registering the pain from how hard he was scratching at his skin. Even when he realized how bad it did hurt, he couldn’t stop, scratching his arms, his hands, his legs, everything he could.

It was starting to burn.

The scratching got more frantic. He couldn’t stop until the spiders were gone. With the lack of light in the cell, he had no way of knowing when that would be, so he just continued to scratch and continued to cry.

The panic turned the world into a haze. He stared blankly ahead, unseeing, doing nothing but scratching at his skin. Tears continued to pour from his eyes.

He was so pathetic. He was so pathetic. He was so pathetic.

He couldn’t even handle some stupid little baby spiders. He was supposed to be the brave protector of the city, the successor to the great Monkey King, and he couldn’t even handle spiders.

He sniffled. If Monkey King had known how pathetic he was, he’d never have chosen him.

And now look at him. Stuck in an eternal nightmare hole — which really did seem to be eternal, as wherever he was being kept wasn’t somewhere he’d seen while they’d been rescuing Tang and Pigsy — having lost the staff.

Oh god. He’d lost the staff. He really was worthless.

He couldn’t believe he’d been so careless, so stupid. The scratching increased, and he hissed at the feeling. He wasn’t cut out to be Monkie Kid. Monkey King had made a mistake, choosing him. It had all just been one big mistake.

He sobbed. Maybe he deserved to rot down here with the spiders. At least here he couldn’t fuck anything up for anyone.

His sobs turned to high pitched cries. He couldn’t handle this.

He cried for a long time, until there were no tears left to cry. Still, the panic didn’t go away. They were all over the cell, even if he couldn’t see them. His skin was still burning from how hard he’d been scratching.

His earlier exhaustion was hitting him again, full force. But he couldn’t sleep, not now. Not when he was surrounded by them.

He sniffled, pressing his arms close to his body and covering his face. As long as they didn’t get on his face or under his clothes or on his skin or anywhere near him it would all be okay. It would all be fine.

But it wasn’t fine. He was so far from fine.

He wondered briefly if Mei would laugh at him for panicking so badly. They were just spiders. Most of them couldn’t even hurt him. Unless they were big, or poisonous, or…

He hugged his knees to his chest. Mei would think he was being so stupid.

Blearily, he opened his eyes, surveying the cell nervously. He couldn’t see any spiders. That didn’t mean there weren’t any there. It only made it all the more nerve-wracking.

His eyes landed on the faint shadow of a spider. It was huge. Absolutely massive, actually. He scrambled back towards the edge of his cell.

No no no no no no!

Breathe, just take deep breaths, it wasn’t going to come any closer, it probably didn’t have any interest in him, just stop please get away he wanted to go home.

It didn’t move for a moment. Maybe it would leave. Maybe it would leave! That sounded pretty likely, right? It could totally leave!

Instead, out of nowhere, it scurried way too close for comfort.

MK shoved himself back against the wall of his cell, clawing at the door behind him.

“Let me out!” he shrieked, his voice strained. He received no response other than the spider getting ever closer. He had nowhere left to run. It was too close.

Whatever he’d thought he would go through as the Monkie Kid, all the horrible torture and the kidnappings and the near death experiences he’d dreamed up…

This was worse. This was so much worse.

27 notes · View notes

hotsexydorks · 4 years ago

Note

In the theme of Christmas how about Derek cheating getting fucked by a mall santa

Just in time for Christmas.. right?

Santa’s Little Secret : Derek/Chris

“Come on Der, it’s tradition. Snow. Hot Chocolate. Matching pyjamas. Red noses from the cold. Old man in red suit, and taking pictures with said man.” Stiles listed as he was push the wolf past the automatic doors of the mall. “Besides it’s not like it’s believing in this whole thing it’s ore just for fun!” The human was smiling as he tried to manoeuvre through the crowd with his boyfriend.

Christmas. The time of cheery smiles and energetic people, everything able to turn on a dime. It was practically made for Stiles. The already bouncing male was all too happy when Christmas came around, today was no exception.

Derek had given his boyfriend one day where they would do all the younger wanted. The usually scowling grumpy and heavy browed wolf standing out more than usual between the crowds of bustling people.

“You promised me, besides this is like the last thing on the list. A picture of you with the big man in red.” Stiles chuckled as he looked around the mall trying to find the grotto they had set up in the mall.

“Fine, one picture. Then we go back to the den, Peter and the rest are coming in today and I want to make sure we get there before them.” Derek reminded him as the pair passed all sorts of people scrambling for deals and sales, buying in secret so they could hide the surprises for their loved ones.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/14053365/chapters/69417057

When they eventually reached the line in the mall Stiles as ecstatic all because they had; one, finally found it, and two, there wasn’t much of a line. It being the season Stiles had planned for there to be a line out the wing but instead there were only a few families there for photos.

“See just a few pictures are we’re out of here.” Stiles said reassuring him as they waited in line with the other people. As they tailed the end of the line one of the ‘elves’ came up and closed off the velvet rope behind them signalling the actual end of the line. “And look we got here just in time before ‘Santa’ takes his break.”

“Stiles?” The elf looked up with a smile and a chuckle while he recognised his best friend.

“Scotty?” Stiles said with a wide smile noticing who was talking to him. “I thought you said you were going to be helping Argent out for something this week?”

“I am.” Scott said laughing as he pointed to the santa that sat in the seat at the other end.

“That’s Chris!?” He said in a shouted whisper.

Derek’s eyebrow cocked when he looked down at the santa sitting in the chair. He squinted while he tried to picture the hunter underneath the whole ensemble, thinking that the hunter was probably as amused by this whole thing as the wolf was.

“Yup, apparently he owed someone a favour so you’re looking at the Beacon Hills new Santa.”

“And… about the stuff… is it.. Natural?” Stiles asked as he peered over the crowd trying to get a good look at the man.

“Stuff?”

“Yeah, you know…” Gesturing in circles on his stomach Stiles motioned wondering how the athletic hunter fit the Santa mould.

“Oh! Oh!!!” Scott laughed as he shook his head walking with them down the line as they got closer. “Nah, they had some suits with some extra padding. Looks real enough for the kids though.” The brown haired wolf chuckled while he pointed to some of the pictures that hung on the wall showing off the sizes and poses people could get.

That alone was enough to cause Stiles to break out in a loud laugh while he pictured the hunter eating and eating just so that he could put on a red suit so people could have their pictures taken with him, a fierce dichotomy between his once hidden life.

“Is Isaac helping out as well then?” Stiles asked looking around trying to find the beta wolf who never seemed to be far behind Scott.

“Yeah he’s operating the camera inside the house, they had to get him extra long sleeves cause the costumes were too short.” Scott giggled while they got closer.

“No way!!” Stiles said amazed as his eyes went wide before pointing to the side. “They’ve got those limited edition funkos….” The human looked up at his boyfriend the plan already forming in his eyes trying to line everything up.

“Stiles..” Derek said warningly not wanting to do this on his own let alone do it at all.

“I know. I know. But this is the last thing I promise! You won’t even have to get me anything as a gift! You just stay here.. And I’m going to go find the guys I want and you can come find me after it!” Already disregarding the plans and everything he had said about how ‘super fun’ the pictures would be.

“It’ll be so quick you won’t even notice it, besides it’s just Chris. You know him!” Stiles ducked under the boundary rope and popped back up taking all his things with him. Leaning over the rope he pressed a quick kiss into Derek’s cheek before driving off like a whirlwind. “Love you!” He called while he darted through the crowd his smile practically beaming off the back of his head.

“............” The silence between both Scott and Derek was palpable. Neither wolf able to stop Stiles on his rampage of nerdom.

Letting out a sigh Derek broke the silence looking around for where he could break the line and just leave, his mind in two about what he should do. Keep the promise or just go after his boyfriend instead who had probably in all likelihood forgotten about the pictures. But before he could lift the rope Derek’s own hand stopped him. A promise was a promise after all.

“I know how you feel.” Scott said with a knowing nod as he put his hand on the other’s back with a small smile, knowing exactly what it was like to be in the other’s shoes.

“Let’s just get this over with.” Derek added as it finally came up to his turn, stepping up the fake house and set towering over the things that were meant for children.

“Derek!” Chris said smiling from behind the beard he was wearing over his own.

“Argent.” The wolf nodded as he stood awkwardly on the fake floor and looking around.

“Let me guess. Stiles?”

“Stiles.” Derek answered simply nodding toward the other who had run off to a shop and was rummaging through shelves looking for all the items he could find.

“Well let’s get this done with.” The man said spreading his legs and tapping his lap making a space for the wolf. “Faster we take these pictures the faster you can forget about it .” The hunter told him with a hint of a joke in his tone.

Nodding in agreement Derek moved and went to sit in the man’s lap sitting in the least compromising position he could. Turning to face the camera manned once again by Scott in the elf suit seeing his disappointed face.

“Come on Derek, sit properly.” The wolf told him as he stood up from behind the lens to try and point were he should go.

“Here let me help you.” The older man said from underneath the wolf. Putting his hands on Derek’s body he pulled at him and shuffled the wolf further onto his lap but when it came time to move his hands away they stayed.

The stories of Derek’s cheating had become legendary, so much so that they didn’t even need to mention the wolf’s name. It had become common knowledge and almost akin to one of Beacon Hills’ famous folklore. That was if folklore was about sex and there being a muscle bottom that was desparate for cum and cock. So desparate that he seemed to never tire, never seemed to get enough and never turning away a man that knew of his hunger.

It had become so well known, so widely spread, that the tale of this muscle bottom was often talked about in bars, clubs, no where more than in some gay clubs where there were rumoured sightings. People said that there would never be another one like him in their lifetime again.

The catch? To have a chance at this stud of a cock hound slobbering over you was twofold.

Both were sworn to secrecy. The first was that they were never tell anyone who his was, his name, his face, anything. They could tell people about what he did, in fact by how often people raved about their experiences it almost seemed like a third condition. But they could never say his name to anyone, tell anyone who is, point him out or even hint at how he was.

With Derek’s hearing it was easy to spot the liars and the people who had tempted fate with a few choice words.

The second was that they could never mention his boyfriend, his relationship. Derek’s own relationship had to stay a secret. He never said who his boyfriend was, just that he had one that that he couldn’t find out. That was his biggest secret. That beyond being a hungry slut for cock, he was also a cheater. He wasn’t just a slut. He was also willing to push everything aside for the promise of it, no matter who was offering him the cock.

With those two things it was pretty easy to keep track of his rules, but he wasn’t alone. After all there were very few that fucked Derek and stayed away. So to help him Derek decided that he needed to bring some people in to help him. People close to him.

Thus the wolf gained some ears and eyes beyond his own. From the county department, to the schools, the clubs, the bar. Derek had informants everywhere that fed him back information that he, of course, repaid with sex, and who better to be one of Derek’s favourites than his boyfriend’s best friend Scott.

Once that had been established Derek’s reputation grew and grew until it became something of an urban story. With not having all the weight on his own shoulders Derek could focus more and more on his own pleasure and getting more of it where ever he could.

Holding Derek’s hip in one hand and the other hidden behind his back, Chris was grinning to himself while he nodded at Scott the wolf smiling back giving him the signal. A signal that told the hunter the coast was clear for his hand to slip down the wolf’s jeans kneading at the soft cheeks.

“That’s it, Derek. Just sit back. Don’t be shy now. If children can pose with a stranger surely you can pose with an old friend, right?” The hunter smiled as he leaned in closer to Derek. Pushing the red fabric against Derek’s back while his hand dug deeper until it found the outline of the string of Derek’s underwear.

Of course the wolf still had regular underwear and clothes that took up his wardrobe and closets but that wasn’t the proper clothes for a slut like him. Something that his ‘friends’ like to remind him of all the time. Over his time meeting with different men and having sex with all of them he had been both gifted and given outfits to wear. By now the wolf had a whole secret wardrobe, there wasn’t anything he didn’t wear for the promise of cock.

Everyday since then Derek had never worn regular underwear, instead of boxers or regular boxer briefs the wolf wore all manner of items. Jockstraps, thongs, lacy see through briefs, easy access briefs, cumstained and crusted , written on or scented, anything was game enough if you could pleasure Derek enough and today was a thong day.

Feeling the fingers follow down the string to their treasure Derek had a blush growing on his face. He may have been a slut but that didn’t mean he wasn’t fazed by things. Just like how everyman’s cock was a different shape and had a different taste, everyman had different kinks and turnons. They might have all craved one thing but they all wanted it in different platters.

The flash of a camera had the green eyed wolf jolting back quickly in shock. Sitting deeper and pushing onto the fingers enough to let the hunter feel the tight heat and hungry hole on his finger tips.

“I’ve been hearing stories that there’s a loose slut on the prowl in these parts. A handsome man that was built like an adonis, his ass fat like some pumped slut. The image of a top, but really was the total opposite.” Chris started to whisper in Derek’s ears as he toyed with his hole. Feeding his fingers in and out, stretching them from side to side, getting two of his fingers all the way to the second knuckle. Testing just how their town slut was and he wasn’t disappointed.

“So I started to think, who out there is is a walking talking statue the male form. Someone who would want to keep their identity a secret. Then it hit me.” The man grinned as he shoved his fingers in deeper getting them all the way to the base knuckle. “But then I was offended, Derek. You’ve gone around an practically offered your cunt to every man, but didn’t even think about me? Your old friend?” Chris asked the wolf with his fingers growing stronger with every pulse he pushed into Derek’s ass.

“Chr--..” Derek softly moaned as his exterior was starting to break from the attention he was getting. But it wasn’t just the attention, it was the whole thing. Being in public, being able to be seen, having his ass played with just out of view, his boyfriend just out of view. He loved it.

“Shh.” Chris shoved his fingers in deeper, slamming his hand and fingering the slut wolf with ease. Working around the other’s barely admissible excuse of underwear the tiny strapped thong. “It’s time for you to pay up Derek, I think it’s my turn now.” The man said this time his mouth closer to Derek’s ear , far more friendly than any picture with a Santa should be.

That showed on the wolf’s face as well. With his blush on his cheeks the wolf’s eyes were getting glossy under touch of the man’s fingers opening him up. Feeling the digits at his hole but they weren’t alone. Soon the feeling of Chris’ growing cock was getting hard against the side of Derek’s ass. He knew what that meant, and it being a hunter, making it all the more forbidden made Derek’s heart race even more.

“Yes Mr.Argent.” Derek nodded while he put his back against the man’s chest and pushed his ass onto the fingers more. Riding his hips up and down as softly and slowly as he could while still getting pleasure from it. Wanting more and showing the man how hungry he was for him.

“Good, now step into Santa’s house. Santa has a nice big present for you to play with.” Pulling his fingers away from the other’s ass Chris stood up and started to walk into the grotto house without a word leaving Derek alone in the middle of the set with his jeans pushed down and his ass exposed, spilling out from where they were still tight on his body.

Not wanting to waste time Derek turned around and darted inside the house without so much as a look back for Stiles.

In the wooden house the male was met to a sight. Dressed like the inside of a cottage there were dim lights, a tree, a red rug, and at the center of the room was a large chair the exact replica of the one outside with the same ‘Santa’ sitting in it.

The only difference was that instead of sitting like a respectable Santa would Chris was now in his chair like a throne. His jacket was open, all the additional stuffing pulled away to reveal the hunter’s muscular but thin frame. His pants were open and pulled down with his hard cock sticking up from between his zipper. Leaking down from his tip to his shaft threatening to dirty the costume pants that he was wearing.

“You know what to do Derek.” Chris said smirking at the wolf his voice filled with lust and his body oozing arousal just as much as his cock was.

The sight had Derek licking his lips the moment he was able to take it all in. Dropping to his knees in front of the man Derek took the other’s cock in hand without a word, or even acknowledging it. He smiled as he dragged his tongue from the other’s balls all the way to the tip, collecting all the leaked precum on the way.

Taking Chris’ cock in his mouth Derek had his eyes up the entire time. Looking up at the older man’s eyes while his own were filled with hunger that he ignited.

“Your skills are legendary. I’ve heard many a tale about the quality of your holes, and it looks like they weren’t lying.” Taking Derek’s head in his hands Chris pushed the wolf down on his cock shoving his cock deeper and deep making the him take it as deep as he could. Watching him the entire time fascinated at another way that a wolf’s ability could be used.

Derek stayed on his knees taking the man’s cock and moaning around his length, it was thick and veiny. All those times meeting Derek had wondered what the hunter’s cock looked like, and it didn’t disappoint. With the cock out of his mouth the wolf started to kiss and run his lips against the underside of the man’s length. The tip of the cock rubbing down his face and spreading the joint wetness across his skin, smothering the man’s sex against his skin.. His eyes staring up and having the dirty conversation with Chris all without words.

That was until flash of light blinded the wolf momentarily taking out his vision. Blinking a few times for measure Derek looked up to see himself flanked by two wolfs in similar states as their ‘boss’. Standing beside them both of their cocks were out being taken care of with their owns hands while they watched, with one of the elves holding the camera that caused the flash taking the perfect picture of Derek’s show.

“He is here to take pictures after all. Why not take some special ones just for us.” Isaac said smiling pushing the camera away from his face and waving his cock around. The wolf’s senses tingling from the smell of three cocks being offered to him at once. Three tasty cocks and a chance for his own private photoshoot with them.

“Looks like our slut likes it.” Scott said as he wiped the leaking precum against Derek’s hair not wanting any of it to go to waste on the floor.

Smiling widely Derek reached up taking both the other cocks in his hands stroking them with glee. “Fuck yeah he does.” Derek said enthusiastically opening his mouth just in time for Chris to fill it back up again with cock.

“Then let’s get this party started.” The older man said taking a rougher approach to Derek’s throat. Knowing now that the wolf could take it he started to pummel into the the wolf’s throat with no holding back. Chocking him. Slapping his face with his balls. Tickling his skin with his pubes. All of it so that he could fuck the wolf’s throat like it was supposed to be used.

“Looks like he really wants to put on a show.” Scott said smirking. He wasn’t a stranger to Derek’s slutty side, after all being one of the Derek’s close eyes he knew very well what the wolf could do.

With another flash of the camera Derek looked up to see that they were being true to their word and taking some pictures. Excited and turned on by the prospect of his own collection Derek grinned taking turns on each of their cocks first moving on to Isaac’s cock and giving the beta the best blow job he had ever experienced.

Unlike the Alpha wolf Isaac hadn’t had the chance of experiencing Derek before. He had heard all about the exploits and even knew that it was him but he never acted on it till know. Until he heard Chris and Scott talking about him and how Chris would do nasty dirty things to the whore.

Which is how they ended up here. Scott might have broken the rules but he was sure this was a special occasion that Derek would thank him for. It was definitely something that Chris was going to thank him for if the look of pleasure on his face was anything to go by.

“Enough playing. Time for the main act.” Derek said pulling off of the male’s messy cock, his pants soaked and his face splattered with spit. Moving to get up Derek pulled his henley over his head grabbing it by the tight fabric and dropping it while he moved on to his pants next. Still lowered around his ass the wolf just pushed them down tearing them off his body while he exposed the small black thong he had on.

Showing off his underwear Derek pushed his pecs together and showed off his body knowing how much that people liked getting off on seeing the ‘total top’ slutting himself as an actual greedy bottom.

The wolf moved until he was pulling the thong aside and showing off his tight hole for the hunter. “I think Santa and his Elves deserves a treat for all his hard work.” Derek said as he walked closer and closer until he straddled Chris’ lap again but this time reverse cowgirl. Facing away from Chris the wolf was looking straight at the camera set up to capture all of the inside photos.

Stepping back and looking at the two other men Derek lined himself up to the other’s cock until he felt the man pushing up to meet his hole.

“My sentiments exactly.” Chris said his hands reaching around to fondle Derek’s chest, squeezing the wolf’s pecs while his cock was teased and tended to slowly.

Not wanting to be left out Scott and Isaac dropped their pants leaving their lower halves bare. Stepping into frame and giving Derek some cocks to play with while he sank back on the hunter’s own length.

Moaning loudly at the feeling of being filled yet again Derek bounced on the cock without waiting. The stretch burned but it felt good. Starting with a controlled bounce Derek moved just enough so that he could take both cocks in his hand again and stroke them without stuttering.

The thong that Derek wore was a small flimsy thong, the front pouch was barely secure enough to hold his cock. The only secure part of the thong was the string that slotted between his cheeks. Riding perky and tightly against his hole with each step. Basically naked the wolf’s hard cock was bouncing in the air while he rode the hunter’s cock.

Chris met some of Derek’s movements with thrusts of his own giving the wolf something more to moan about while he took both of the other cocks in his hands and mouth. With his hands up against Derek’s chest Chris pulled the wolf back. Sitting him deeper on his cock and fucking him harder with the new position.

Now that Chris had taken off his beard his mouth was free to kiss and lick at Derek’s neck. Teasing him and fucking the wolf deep.

“Oh.. fuck me.. Fuck me. Yess!!” Derek sat back in a blissful smile, his legs spreading as he showed off where the thick cock was pounding him open. Where the man’s heavy filled balls were slapping against him with each thrust.

“You know I never truely thought Derek would be the one, but now that I’m seeing him like this? How could he be anything different. “ Chris chuckled with a grunt while he pulled the beared male’s face aside and started to make out with him.

“Speaking of. Where is Stiles anyway?” Isaac chimed as he threw his head back with Derek’s hand squeezing every last bit of precum that was practically bordering on cum by now.

But the wolf couldn’t answer even when Chris gave him the opportunity. Pulling away the man pounded at Derek’s ass with more force. Taking his hands to Derek’s hips for a stronger hold the leader of his clan hit Derek’s hard switch.

His cock moved with a steady beat each one punctuated by by the wolf’s own slutty moans of pleasure, drooling and smiles.

“Bitch is too in heat to even answer back.” Scott chuckled as he brought his cock closer to Derek’s mouth , barely offering it to him before the wolf opened his mouth and swallowed it down.

“I think I saw him run off in the direction of that merch shop, probably arms deep in some deals for some pieces of plastic.” Chris chuckled loudly while his thrusts began to stutter and grow more ragged.

“Such a bad boyfriend for leaving this piece of ass all hungry and alone. Let’s make sure Derek remembers our time together.” Scott said as he picked up the remote trigger for the cameras.

All three of the men grinned widely taking their position and making sure that Derek and all of them were positioned perfectly and that he was looking the right way.

“Look into the camera Derek, time for some more pictures.” Chris said moaning against Derek’s neck and breathing heavily knowing that his orgasm was close.

“Smile!” Isaac said watching how they were all getting close and an posing almost perfectly.

On cue Scott started to snap shots of the four of them, all posing with Derek being fucked in the middle.

Timing them perfectly Scott made sure that they had one of Derek sucking each of the other wolfs’ cocks, each of them getting a turn. The next picture was with Derek throwing his head forward from Chris hitting his prostate repeatedly. The image showed Derek’s pleasure so perfectly that the sounds could almost be heard from it.

“Fuck.. I think it’s time for the last picture.” Chris pipped up his body sweating along with Dereks from their bodies fucking the entire time. He looked up at the boys and nodded at them while he urging them to finish with him.

“Got the perfect one.” Scott said as he pulled his cock from Derek’s hand and started to jerk off with his own touch. “You aim for his chest, I’ll get his face.” He told the beta wolf both of them taking a step closer so that their loads would land square where they were meant to.

“Ready?” Chris asked once before the man started to give all that he could to the wolf’s hungry hole, his balls pulling up and holding back as much as he could. Finally with a loud grunt the hunter pulled Derek in by his body and filling him up as much as he could.

The same moment the other two also shot their loads over Derek making a mess of the wolf’s face and body while Scott took the series of pictures. Derek’s smile growing wider and his own thong dirtying from his own cum being fucked out of him.

“We should do this again some time Derek.”Chris said rubbing the wolf’s ass with his hands while the pictures printed beside them.

Picking up the pictures Isaac and Scott grinned seeing how good they turned out. How all their faces were blurred out or obscured except for Derek. Derek’s face was front and center the face of pleasure on his face was unrestricted and fully showing.

A cock in his mouth, cum on his body, cum on his face. There was even a lucky shot with Derek’s hips raised showing the thick ‘Santa’ cock that was fucking him.

“Yeah, maybe I should take more pictures next time. These are hot.” The fucked wolf said grinning. Raising his hands to his chest Derek started to rub the cum into his skin, collecting it on his hands and cleaning them with his mouth. Cleaning up all the cum that he could taste , rubbing it down his down his face , through his beard and into his mouth.

“Oh yeah they are.” Isaac said laughing as he picked up one final picture showing Derek’s first photo, on his knees worshiping a cock that was as long as his head. Thick as his wrist and wetting his entire face. His face looking like he was drunk and high. The distinctive red pants and holiday decor all adding some context.

“Damn I don’t think I’ll be able to keep my dick down at that pack dinner later.. How the fuck do you do it?” Isaac asked Scott earning him a chuckle.

“Easy, just fuck him good and hard before it.” He smirked as he waved his softening cock. “But I think tonight we might just have a bit more fun with him. After all I think the one left tonight that hasn’t fucked him will be Peter, but I’m sure we could change that.” Scott said offering the last bits of his sticky cum on the tip of his cock.

“Fuck yeah.” Isaac agreed happily looking down at the older hunter that was leaning back in his chair lazily rocking Derek on his cock. “I think we might have a plus one as well.” He said nodding at the man’s direction.

“That’s fine with me.” Derek perked up with the idea of Chris joining them for dinner, another tasty cock for him to play with.

“Great, I’ll bring him over later on when I’ll coming over.” Scott said bringing the other the two pictures they had taken outside, everything looking normal with only a small blush on Derek’s face just like any other Santa photo.

Smiling widely at the pictures Derek licked the last bits of cum from his lips tugging at his bottom lip with a grin while he looked up at the men. “Sounds like a plan.” Derek said his ass already trying to milk another load from Chris’ cock at just the thought.

#Anonymous #Derek #Chris #Scott #Isaac #Scribbles #prompt #story sunday

12 notes · View notes

bnhascribbles · 5 years ago

Text

Genuine

Shindo x Reader

Friends to Lovers, Jealousy, Fluff, Humor, Pining (?)

Words: 2.6K

Warnings: Swearing

“I’m starting to feel a little neglected sitting over here by myself, you know.” Shindo has to shout to be heard over the rhythmic thwumping of the bass.

“S’not my fault you insist on being so damn boring, Yo.” You grab his wrist and tug, but he doesn’t budge, still leaning back against the bar counter like his ass is glued to the edge of it. You scoff and try again, even though you know there’s about a zero-percent chance of it actually doing any good. “Come oooooon, get up and dance or mingle or do something. You look like a creepy old man just standing at the bar like this.”

It’s dark, but you don’t need lights to see the way Shindo glowers at you.

“I was up at 4 AM waiting for your flight to land, you know, since you practically begged me to pick you up. Then while you got to sleep all day, I had to go put in hours at the agency.” He peers down at his soda, mouth pulled back in a thin line. “Then, for some reason, I agreed to come out with you and got dubbed the ‘designated sober friend.’ I think I’ve earned the right to be as boring as I want.”

“Blah blah blah, ‘look at me, I’m Shindo Yo and I’m annoyed because someone wants to spend time with me.” You squat low, peering up at Shindo through the edge of his glass. At least now he has to look at you, no matter how grumpy he’s pretending to be. “Don’t act like you aren’t thrilled to have me back.”

“I’d be more excited if you didn’t always insist on being such a pain.”

You purse your lips and wiggle in a little closer. “You know you love it.”

Shindo shakes his head, but cracks a smile. Success. Not that you’d actually thought he was angry with you. He just liked pushing your buttons, getting a rise out of you however he could. It’d always been like that, and you’re more than a little glad to know that the months apart hadn’t changed anything.

You’d be a liar if you said you didn’t want some things to change though.

Brushing off the thought, you stand and order a beer like you’d meant to when you first wandered up to the bar. Your drink comes quickly and, as you’re taking the first gulp, an evil sort of plan hatches in your jet-lagged brain.

You take a second gulp of beer. “I’m gonna need another one of these.” You say, just loud enough for Shindo to hear.

“I’m not carrying you home.” He says without glancing over, seeming much more interested in the mass of shadowy bodies clumped together on the dancefloor than he is in you.

“It’s not for me.” This earns Shindo’s gaze, his upturned eyebrow. You grin, all teeth, and tilt your chin up in the direction of a cluster of tables. “Third table from the right. There’s this one guy with swooshy blonde hair standing there.”

Shindo squints as he searches through the flashing lights. Then he frowns.

“See him? He’s cute, yeah?”

Then, Shindo huffs, but hardly looks at the stranger as he puts his drink down. “Not interested.”

“Not for you, moron.” You chew on your thumb, your cheeks aching from the stretch of your lips. “For me.”

Suddenly, he directs his attention back towards you, head tilted and sporting a look of complete disbelief. “You’ve literally been back for less than 24 hours,” he speaks slowly, “and you’re already scouting out a boy-toy?”

You roll your eyes. “‘Boy-toy?’ What are you, eighty-two?”

Shindo doesn’t speak, but glares, folding his arms over his chest. He’s not even making a subtle attempt to hide his irritation. Judging by the dark look in his eyes, the way they seem more like bottomless pits than anything even vaguely human, you can tell this is real Shindo you’re talking to. Good. The guy needed to learn a thing or two about being genuine every once in a while.

“Come on, he’s super sweet. I nearly fell on my face dancing out there and he caught me before I could make a fool of myself.” When his expression remains hard, you prod at his arm with your elbow. “Besides, you know I’m a softie for the nice boys.”

“You also have a thing for idiots apparently.” Shindo makes a vague gesture over towards the table with his hand. “Look at those eyes, the stupid smile: that dude wouldn’t know his ass from a hole in the ground.”

“Well, then I guess it’s a good thing we don’t need to be rocket scientists to have a fun time.” Downing the rest of your beer, you waggle your eyebrows at Shindo. “Guess I’ll have to fill you in later, Mr. Boring.”

You’re extra sure to amble, not at all in a rush to lock eyes with the bartender. You muss up your hair a bit, then pat it back down. Then, you pick at the little bits of dirt beneath each fingernail, pretending you can actually see anything beneath the blinding flash of neon lights. You’re just wasting time—waiting. All the while, you make sure to strategically not notice the way Shindo’s gaze drifts between you and that corner table. Your shoulder. Back to the table. Your waist. Back to the table. Your lips. Back to the table.

Just as you open your mouth to order another drink, someone presses a hand flat against your chest, nudging you back, away from the counter. Twisting slightly, you see Shindo, staring intently at a spot somewhere between your eyes. You shoot him a quizzical look and he furrows his brow.

Then, slowly—very slowly—half of his mouth curls upward. Not in a sweet or cheerful sort of way. No, this was an impish, self-satisfied sort of expression, one that Shindo seems to have mastered over the years. Still, you can see how he might fool others, even without trying. The smile, the twinkling eyes, the dimple for god's sake: he looks about as menacing as one of those cherubs you might find in a Renaissance painting.

“Your face is red.” He says matter-of-factly, putting down his drink and pressing the back of his hand to your forehead. It feels warm.

You swat away his wrist, scoffing. You didn’t know what he was up to, but hell if you were gonna fall for it.

“It’s hot in here. Plus, I was just da—“

“No.” Shindo cuts you off, shoving one long finger into your shoulder. Hard. “See, you can barely stand up straight.”

Naturally, you wobble—Shindo was strong, and the telltale numbness that’s still buzzing through your shoulder tells you that his quirk might also have something to do with your sudden lack of balance.

“I’m wearing heels, asshole! What do you think you’re trying—”

“I think you’re drunk,” Shindo says, taking a step forward, casting a shadow over you, “I think you’ve had your fun, and I should take you home now.”

You cock your jaw to the side and peer up at him. It takes everything in you not to burst out in a fit of victorious laughter.

“I’ve literally had one drink.”

He shrugs. “You’re a lightweight.”

“And you’re jealous.” For the briefest moment, you think you see his eyes widen. But just as quickly as it comes, it passes. Still, it’s enough to prove your suspicions. “I knew it would work. I actually made you jealous.”

Before you get the chance to gloat any more, Shindo is ushering you towards the door with one hand draped over your shoulder. You would tease him more, but every time you open your mouth to shout something snarky over the sound of the DJ, a sharp buzz radiates out from his palm and makes you squeak. Even after years of being subjected to Shindo’s “sneak attacks,” his quirk still felt like one of those old fashioned shock pens you and your schoolmates used to play with. It was never painful, just a surprise.

The two of you walk like that for a while, even after you get outside and the night air cools your faces. You don’t shimmy away from Shindo until you’re well past the red rope barriers, past the stragglers still loitering around the club entrance and the bouncers keeping them away from the doors.

“You can let go of me now. Ya’ know, since I’m not drunk.”

Shindo stops walking, seeming less-than-bothered by the accusatory tone you take on. “Prove it. How many fingers am I holding up?” He holds up two on his left hand and one on his right. As always, he has to put up a fight despite the fact you both already know it’s all just an act.

“Three.” You answer without hesitation. You flick up your middle finger and wiggle it in front of his face. “Now how ‘bout you? How many do you see?”

He shoves both hands in his pockets and grins wide. “Shit, guess you’re right. That’s my bad.”

“Oh, like your little ‘mistake’ wasn’t completely intentional.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about—ow!” Shindo yelps when you reach over and pinch his arm through his sleeve. He lets his jaw hang in a look of mock incredulity. “Is this the thanks I get for looking out for you? Making sure some creep doesn’t try and hurt you while you’re completely wasted?”

You roll your eyes. “Trust me Yo, nobody can hurt me like you can.”

Without a warning, he starts moving again Quickly, brushing shoulders with you as he stomps along the pavement. Still, he turns his body around and faces you when he gets further ahead, walking backward instead of, you know, actually looking where he’s going.

“Talk about ungrateful. Weren’t you supposed to have a thing for nice guys?”

You hurry to catch up to him. “We both know you’re not nice.”

“What a shame” He sighs obnoxiously loud.

You’re sure to grasp the opportunity you’re granted.

“Why?” You ask.

“Why what?”

“Why is it a shame? Were you hoping you’d be my type?”

He laughs, and easy, playful sort of sound. “You know I’m always holding out hope that you’ll—”

“—Because if you’re right, then I might have a thing for idiots too.” You say, squeezing his arm tighter. Suddenly, breathing seems harder somehow. More forced, more deliberate. “So why don’t you just admit you’re in love with me so I can figure that out for myself.”

And just like that, Shindo goes rigid. It’s an immediate, visible tension that courses through every muscle, like a rubber band stretched to breaking point, just waiting to snap. His mouth opens, then shuts. It opens again and his mouth moves, tracing out the shape of words—none of which actually come out. But, like a switch, he inhales and his lopsided smirk is back in its full glory.

“Yeah, I’m totally in love with you. It’s all fuzzies and heart-eyes over here.”

Even though you’d somewhat expected it, Shindo’s nonchalant tone grates at something deep in your chest. You yank your hand away from his elbow, feeling extremely warm and irritated and confused all at once.

“Shindo Yo, can you be sincere for once in your fucking life?”

You hadn’t expected for your outburst to seem so...desperate? Angry maybe, but desperate no. If you were smart you would’ve rolled your eyes, tinged the sentence with a bit of sarcasm, something. Then again, that was the reason you were in this position in the first place. Too many years of joking, skirting around the topic like somehow, addressing it would ruin something. And it could very well do that still. But dammit, you needed to know already.

If your months abroad had taught you anything, it was that you loved Shindo. There were the phone calls that carried on for hours, the ones where neither of you wanted to hang up, where you’d each just talk and talk and wait for someone’s phone to die. There were the dreams that always seemed to have him in them somewhere, whether he was the hero, the villain, or just another face in the crowd. Then, there was the way you couldn’t look at any other man, the way they all seemed too affectionate, too stifling, too boring in comparison. Yes, against every ounce of logical sense, you loved Shindo. That wasn’t a choice.

Maybe that’s why the uncharacteristic silence is so jarring.

“Is that a ‘no’ then?” You ask, dreading the answer.

Shindo stands there. He stands there for what feels like an eternity, lips parted slightly, the hand not in his pocket balled into a tight fist.

“It’s not a ‘no.’” He says, soft, but to you, he might as well be shouting. Because there’s some hope in “not a no.” Still, you need more.

“You said you loved me last year before I left for America. I think about that a lot. More than you probably think I do, and—” You inhale and run a trembling hand down your face, tucking it beneath your chin once it’s finished its course. It probably looks awkward, like you’re some sort of prey animal finding comfort in protecting your neck from an inevitable attack. Still, you do it because it’s one of the only things keeping you from hyperventilating. You had ten plus years of friendship at stake here. You would be stupid to risk that without a little restlessness.

“—and I just need to know if that was a joke. If you didn’t actually mean it. Don’t try to change the subject and don’t lie to try and make me feel better: I’ve known you way too long for that Yo, so don’t even try it.”

There’s no sparkle in his eyes when he steps forward—not a hint of playfulness when he furrows his brow, nor a bit of cockiness when he chews his lip. The exact moment is a blur, but by the time the street stops seeming so fuzzy, Shindo is closer. Practically chest-to-chest with you actually.

“You say it first.” He demands, voice riddled with all the authority of a pro-hero. Not that that meant you had to actually listen to him. This was still Yo, after all.

“That’s not how this—”

“Please.”

You think it’s the first time you’ve ever heard him say the word earnestly. That fact alone is enough to make you compromise. You’d no doubt groan later when you remembered the way he knew nearly every way to make your resolve crumble like a bridge made of toothpicks.

“I love you, Yo.” It isn’t as though you haven’t said it before. But this time, it means something entirely different. Still, you consider tacking the word “romantically,” onto the end, but then you decide it’s hardly necessary to clarify at this point. Awkward confessions like this weren’t exactly something “just friends” did.

Shindo shuts his eyes and smiles. And it isn’t crooked or mischievous or cocky.

It’s just a smile. A genuine smile.

“Damn, I’ve waited a long time to hear you say that.”

An arm creeps up from Shindo’s side, fingertips brushing a trail up your arm and stopping somewhere at the base of your neck. He nudges at the hand you have tucked in beneath your chin, coaxing it to fall away from your face. Then he leans in...

And you raise your palm quick, nearly jabbing Shindo’s jaw in your hurry to push him away.

“Not so fast, Romeo. It’s your turn.”

He grits his teeth, a low, annoyed sound crawling up from the back of his throat. “Really?”

“Yup. I don’t kiss my friends, so hurry up and say it already.”

Shindo scoffs and grabs your wrist, forcing your hand down, away. Somewhere in the time it takes him to close the distance that remains between the pair of you, he grumbles something something “more trouble than you’re worth” along with a rushed “I love you.”

Seeing as you’ve both waited long enough, you figure you can let this one slide.

#bnha x reader #shindou x reader #shindo x reader #shindo yo #Shindou You #yo shindo #bnha shindou #bnha #mha #bnha imagines #bnha scenarios #you shindou #bnha reader insert #mha x reader #ooof this took forever #oh well

1K notes · View notes

pendragonfics · 5 years ago

Text

Bird Brain

Paring: Clint Barton/Reader

Tags: female reader, doctor reader, domestic avengers, avengers tower, age difference -- older man/younger woman, domestic fluff, humor, deaf Clint Barton, Clint Barton needs a hug, fluff

Summary: She's a doctor and patches up the Hawkeye almost every day. He's an Avenger, and somehow, hasn't realised that she's been into him for ages.

Word Count: 2386

Current Date: 2020-02-15

They say that absence makes the heart grow fonder, but whoever said that never had to deal with Clint Barton every forty-eight hours. It wasn’t that you didn’t like the man - what wasn’t there to like? No, it was the fact that the man was constantly getting hurt. Shooting himself in the foot (literally). Falling over, losing his hearing aid, being stabbed by bad guys, needing an emergency tetanus shot when he got cut by a rusted nail and was very due for his shots.

It didn’t hurt that he was quite a looker, under all the bandages. Nice smile, kind eyes, and when he was actually taking care of himself and eating right, he had a rockin’ bod. If anyone caught you favouring him to the other Avengers who came by your station in the Tower, you’d say it was purely professional (when in actual fact, if he’d ever ask, you’d say yes to drinks in an instant).

The hardest part, though, was that every one of the team knew that you liked Clinton F. Barton, except him.

Bucky and Sam had a bet going on between the team of how long it was going to take Clint; so far, the stakes were high, and almost everyone was in on it. It had gone on for years, and only once had Clint almost walked in on a group of them talking about it, but he brushed it off. It seemed that you had chosen one of the densest Avenger as your heartthrob. Early on, Tony Stark had given you shit for being so young (to which Thor smacked him on the underside of his head for). Then, when he got over the age-gap, it was all, if you’re into older men why are you all heart-eyed over the Hawkeye when I’m literally here? Gradually over time, he let it go and moved on to other fish to fry.

After losing his hearing aid again on a mission, Clint is seated before you, looking at his hands. You can’t imagine the pressure he would be under as a man without powers in the Avengers and living with a disability, but he’s never spoken about it. You look up from where you’re running diagnostics, hoping that Tony’s bottomless credit card can purchase some tech for Clint that won’t fall out (his words) next time.

Once you have his attention, you sign, ‘You can tell me if you lost them on purpose.’

There’s a pause, and his face cracks that custom-made Clint Barton grin. He’s running on full-strength coffee or adrenaline these days, and it kills you to see him beating himself up all the time. He’s only human.

‘Blame gravity, not me.’ He frowns, and adds, ‘You believe me?’

‘Sure, and JFK is alive.’ You reply, laughing. He scrunches his nose up at that, trying to not show a smile, but you can see in his eyes, those tired eyes that lived off coffee and adrenaline, that there was some part of him that thought your quip was humorous.

Right then, Agent Romanoff walked in. If anyone had ever the self-esteem feel good about themselves in a room with her in it, they were lying. Her red hair was in a yoga bun, and she wore that black catsuit tied half-down around her waist. The only thing un-sexy about her was the fact there was a growing red stain beneath the button-down shirt. Clint seemed to get the message and signed his goodbyes to both of you as Natasha took his place on your examination table.

“Did I just ruin a moment?” she asked, unbuttoning her shirt unprompted.

There was a bullet in her lower abdomen, luckily the other side of her heart, and judging from the wound, was still inside. You move your hands toward the wound, and quickly assess before you pull on fresh gloves. She watches you, and lies down, administering herself the pain relief that you hand to her. Hopefully, her wound won’t need surgery.

“You say that like you’re sorry for coming in,” you reply, cleaning around the area.

Luckily, she doesn’t laugh, because that would hurt her wound. “But was it?” she pokes.

“Give me a break, I’m in love, not hopeless.” You retort, trying to stay professional. “…I mean, who even shot you, anyway? Didn’t your last mission end yesterday?”

“That’s classified. I’m a bad bitch like that,” she smirks, and unintentionally, you touch a tender area and she winces at the pain. Unfortunately for the Black Widow, she will need surgery. Before you move to page another medic, she places a hand on yours, and you look at her for a moment silently until she speaks. “…I know you’re not hopeless, ________, but it’s been three years, and if he can’t see you,” she gestures toward you like you’re the Mona Lisa or someone worth her time, “he doesn’t deserve you.”

---

Game Night Fridays were a thing, apparently. Something that you hadn’t been a part of until Doctor Banner roped you into being his partner for a table tennis tournament. The only rule was that you had to wear a stripy shirt, use no abilities to win the match, and have fun! (according to a retired Captain America, who you, after all, this time can’t believe survived coming out of the ice). Doctor Banner’s usual partner, the android Vision, was taking a long weekend with Wanda, his new fiancée to Miami.

That’s why you were stood in front of the table tennis table beside the sometimes-Hulk, sometimes-professor, all-times awkward walking Dad Joke Doctor Banner, wearing a striped shirt. On the other side of the table, Thor cracks his knuckles, and Clint flips the paddle in his hand and catches it like a cocky sportsman.

“Remember, to play fair!” Steve calls out, refereeing. He’s exempt of the mandatory ugly striped shirt, and holds a whistle in his teeth, about to blow. He’s very sports coach chic, looking very much an all-American hero.

“Or not,” Sam sasses, before the whistle blows, “and make it a match to remember!” He whoops.

Though the pair of them were Captain America, they had a different taste of how to serve their patriotic justice. The whistle is shrill, piercing, and Clint serves the orange ball.

Bruce hits it back, and Thor returns, and Bruce hits once more. You dive after it when Clint serves it back, and onward it goes. After a while, you take note of everyone’s style. Clint goes for tricky shots, and Thor uses the power behind the paddle to make fast ones. Bruce is reserved and stays on his side of the table, and with everything going on, you’re having to pick up the slack. You have a feeling that if Vision was here, he’d be a formidable player. Your reflexes are nothing on actual Avengers.

When Bruce misses the shot from Thor, you can see your teammate get tense, a tinge of green growing from beneath his collar.

“DoctorBanner, I think you should take a time out,” you tell him, but he shakes it off.

The next hit is quickly lost, and then it’s your turn to hit it. Clint’s making a funny face, and it throws you off momentarily, and you hit air instead of the ball. Thor roars with thunderous laughter. Doctor Banner looks more and more lime-green than his usual olive-tone. When Thor serves, it’s too fast, and it hits Bruce in the cheek, leaving a mark on his face.

The room gets quiet.

You place a hand on his shoulder, looking at the man. “Let’s get some air.”

You lead him away from the main room, out to the balcony adjacent to the main floor of the Avengers Tower communal area. Behind you, the Avengers resume their casual conversation, and the volume of the room goes from sterile to friendly. But just as you walk Bruce to the night air, Tony takes your place. He’s also not in a stripy shirt, and he wordlessly trades places with you, going in your stead to comfort the green doctor.

It’s easy enough to excuse yourself after that. Unlike the Avengers, you don’t get any time off, and the weekends are spent shadowing Doctor Cho at her clinic, and that starts early tomorrow morning. You say a quick goodbye to Sam and Bucky, who half-acknowledge you over their game of checkers (Bucky is playing red, and losing badly), and descend via the stairs. But halfway down, you hear someone behind and turning, you see Clint Barton.

His new hearing aid glows dimly in the hallway, and so goes his goofy smile. But there’s a different look in his eyes than usual, and you don’t know if right now you’re about to feel everything that you’ve been waiting for from him, or not.

He sticks his hand out to you, to shake. “Good game,” he says.

You smile. “Yeah, uh, it was a good game.”

“…it’s a shame you don’t come every Friday, ‘cause that was fun.” He adds, walking past you, continuing down the stairs. You take the cue and follow him the same way you were headed, down to the street. Most people take the elevator, in the once-Stark tower, but the stairs are oddly relaxing. “Maybe we can rush Viz and Wanda into a shotgun wedding, and we can play again some time.”

“I don’t really -,” you sigh, looking down. Clint frowns, and you don’t repeat yourself. You forget sometimes when he’s verbal and wearing the aid that he can’t hear everything. “Yeah. Maybe.”

---

For some reason, Clint Barton does not get hurt for three weeks. For three weeks, he keeps his hearing aids in one piece. He doesn’t get shot, stabbed or become unstable on a rooftop. He’s nowhere to be seen near your end of the woods. You spend your time catching up on paperwork, working on the medical profiles of the Avengers…and missing him.

It’s hard, because every time you give up on him, he comes back. And yet…there’s no sign of him.

Until there is. The Quinjet acts as a medivac, and arrives loudly, landing on the roof. S.H.I.E.L.D. agents escort a stretcher out, and you’re hastily called to action alongside the other medical professionals that have been called in. It’s barely five o’clock in the afternoon, one hour until you’re allowed to go home to binge-watch America’s Funniest Home Videos, but when you see who’s nigh comatose in the stretcher, your heart almost stops.

“How the hell -,” you cry out, starting to worry.

“Language!” says everyone, except Steve Rogers.

“-There was an ambush, Doctor ________. He was shot at by a sniper, but he managed to remove himself from 75 per cent of the ranged weapons range. He has three wounds of varying degrees of severity and is currently on a high dosage of pain medication to get him here.” Vision reports, helping the agents move the bed toward the elevator, to your set up.

“Thank you,” you tell him, and look at Clint. He looks so peaceful and would appear to be sleeping well if not for the two shots by his collar bone. “Okay, I need everyone scrubbed up, I need a dose of morphine prepped for when this wears off, call a surgeon in and - Doctor Cho, ready your cradle.” You speak hastily and remember afterwards that you’re not the head doctor on staff. “…sorry. Just, um, get him better.”

“________...” Clint says, woozily.

You look down to see him. His eyes are partly open, and slowly, his mouth opens to bare his teeth in a loose grin. His hands are soft, and reach for you blindly, but can’t seem to coordinate himself. He’s high off his face on the medicine, and you take his hand in yours, holding it tight.

“Yeah, I’m here.” You reach for his face, pushing his dirty blonde hair back. “It’s me.”

“You’re like, the best.” He says.

From across the room, you hear a nurse snicker quietly.

“You’re so…good at your job,” he slurs. “…and I’m like, Hawkbutt.”

“Hawkeye,” you correct.

“That’s the same thiiing,” he drawls. “…I’m a butt. I am. A. Butt. Heh. Butt.” He prattles.

“You’re not a butt, Clint. You’re a hero.” You tell him.

Doctor Cho comes behind you and places a hand on your shoulder. “I think it’s best if you sit out on this. You’re too close to the patient to take care of him.” She pauses. “It’s for the best.”

“I heard that! My hearing - aid - I heard that” Clint adds. “You’re right, Doctor Cho, she shouldn’t. Because,” he takes a deep breath in, as the other medical professionals swarm around him, readying the assessment before taking care of him, “Be-because I want to marry that lady. She’s the best.”

The room gets uncomfortably quiet, with just the EKG in the background.

His hand slackens off yours, moving over to his chest. That smile of his widens, albeit unfocused. He yawns, and looking your way, says with his hands just as he’s administered another round of drugs, his motions sloppy, but forgivable,

��I love you,’ he signs.

You feel tears prick in your eyes. “Clint,” you reply, reaching for his arm. His pulse is weakening, the medically induced coma coming on, and he looks to you with his fading consciousness. You sign, just for him to see, ‘I love you too.’

---

It’s another six months until Clint Barton is cleared to go back to fieldwork, but that day comes and goes, and he’s still hanging around the Avengers Tower, this time in your surgery not for health reasons. The archery Avenger follows you around like a lost puppy in love, and to be perfectly honest, you wouldn’t have it any other way. Tony Stark went back to his teasing and kept the security tape of that day, archived in F.R.I.D.A.Y. under ‘Birdbrain & the Doc’ - a file he won’t change the name of. But it’s okay.

Even though he’s older, and you’re younger, he’s a combatant, and you’re a medic, he’s a coffee drinker and you prefer tea, you swear up and down that you’re as fond as ever for the dense archery master Clint, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

#clint barton #clint #clint barton x reader #hawkeye x reader #hawkeye #hawkeye/reader #Avengers #avengers x reader #marvel fanfic #marvel x reader #choatic--lovely #pendragonfics #Female reader

146 notes · View notes

anika-ann · 5 years ago

Text

No Apologies Needed - Pt.2

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Word count: 1940

Warnings: swearing, kidnapping, violence, mentions of death, mentions of non-consensual drug use

Summary: You kinda wished to have the worst hangover in your life; anything would be better than the reality you found yourself in. See, that’s what happens when you let handsome strangers kiss you!

Story Masterlist

═══════▣◎▣═══════

An unpleasant sensation of cold tickling your feet woke you up – or maybe it was the pounding headache, you weren’t sure. But you definitely wanted to bury yourself deeper in your covers and sleep for at least a week. You wanted to pull the covers over your head, but your limbs felt way too heavy to complete the task.

The memories of yesterday night were a bit hazier than you would like; you couldn’t even remember getting home, so maybe this was the universe punishing you for getting so royally drunk. You groaned and tried harder to muffle yourself and keep yourself warm; only to realize you indeed couldn’t move your hands. Or your legs for that matter.

In fact, you weren’t even lying. You were sitting upright, your back rather narrow against a flat hard surface and you had a cramp in your neck as your head had been hanging down.

Your eyes snapped the moment your heart started beating its way out of your chest, your breathing turning frantic. You weren’t hit by the sharp morning light peeking from under the curtains of your room and you were definitely not staring at your dark purple carpet. You were staring at a concrete floor, where your bare feet were resting, tied to legs of a chair you were sitting on.

Your mind turned blank, your blood roaring in your ears, only adding to the headache. The shiver running down your spine had nothing to do with the cold now.

You looked around the dimly illuminated room – messy and cold… a warehouse? Jesus. – only to find a guy sitting on a chair opposite to you staring right back. He was leant forward, his elbows on his knees, fingers interlaced. And he was grinning at you cockily.

“Morning, Sunshine.”

He slowly rose to his feet, making his way to you predatorily. You subconsciously backed against the chair, tugging at the cuffs restraining your wrists to your sides. His smile widened. You pulled harder, tears of fear filling your eyes.

Even with the terrible headache, with what could be a serious hangover, it was way too easy to figure out what was happening. It didn’t exactly take a genius; you were kidnapped. Or maybe you had gone willingly, because you had drunk your ass off with like four margaritas and your brain had totally switched off.

And now were going to get hurt.

But why?!

Why would someone take you? Why would anyone want you of all people? And if they didn’t care about you personally, why— why were you still alive? If they only wanted the cash you had, they could have taken it. If they wanted to-- you heart stopped as the idea hit you like a train, all of your focus on how your body felt, everywhere. They hadn’t--- they hadn’t touched you, right? You would feel that, they---

Shit. Fucking shit, this wasn’t happening. What if they… what if they wanted to sell you? You always read about the human trafficking rings, targeting women or kids, selling them the highest bidder. And then raping them again and again, torturing them until they wished they were dead.

Your chest tightened in horror, tears rolling down your cheeks. No matter the restraints, your body trembled in fear and desperation.

No, no, no, god, please, no-

“How’s the head, Sweetcheeks? Had a little too much to drink last night? Or more than just drinks?” he called out, stopping two feet from you, leaning forward so his face was right in front of yours.

His dark gaze was piercing yours, amused and so mean. You squeezed your eyes shut, more tears escaping them. You felt his hand on your chin, calloused fingers gripping it tightly. You sobbed, your body too overwhelmed to make an attempt to escape his touch.

Not that you would stand a chance. You were tied to a chair.

And apparently been drugged, your mind supplied helpfully.

“Aww, Babe, don’t cry. Do you want me to distract you? Have a little fun…?” his sleazy voice offered and you let out a whimper at the terrifying – and so, so disgusting – idea. Your stomach rolled over and you were sure you were gonna puke.

“Milles, stop playin’ with food,” another man admonished him, annoyed, and you jumped at the sound of the newcomer’s voice. The hand fell off of your face.

“Why? We’re gonna kill her anyway. I would take a picture, ya’ know. I bet it would piss him off even more.”

You sobbed again, your whole body aching and paralyzed at his words.

Have a little fun. Playing with food. Kill her anyway. Your brain refused to understand those words, but at the same time, you were painfully aware of their meaning.

You were gonna die.

You yanked against the cuffs with all your strength, but they didn’t move an inch. You did it again, feeling the rope cutting through your skin mercilessly, but the burn was almost pleasant, because it meant you were doing something, instead of sitting here and waiting for them to kill you. Cold sweat was running down your back, but you ignored it, tugging as much as you could until you couldn’t find the strength to move anymore, your muscles aching and feeling like belonging to someone else.

You stopped with a frustrated huff, snapping your eyes open, finding the two men staring at you with raised eyebrows. The new guy actually looked a bit familiar, but it was probably just your terrified brain imagining things.

“Really, Babe? Aren’t ya’ a stubborn one?” Milles questioned wryly, exchanging a look with his friend.

Your vision was blurry as your gaze flickered between them desperately. You still had your life in front of you. Practically your whole life, for god’s sake, you just got your degree. You wanted to live your life. And you were not above begging to achieve that.

“Please, please, don’t hurt me. Just let me go, please-“

“Jesus, shut up. My ears ain’t built for that,” the other guy complained, pacing to you with his hand stretched out for a strike.

You immediately fell silent and he cocked his head to side.

“Huh. That’s better. Go check what’s taking Turner so fuckin’ long. I watch her for a bit.”

You breathed in shakily as Milles rolled his eyes and left via the very same door this man had probably come in.

Like a masochist, you couldn’t keep your eyes off of the hitman who was in charge of you now. You had no idea why; maybe it was the strange familiarity.

“So. Tell me. Who are you, Girlie? Why you?”

You looked at him as if he was crazy, the absurdity of the question making you let out a helpless laugh.

Why me? Why don’t you tell me?

“Why me what?” you whispered breathlessly.

“Why did you catch his eye? What so special ‘bout you?”

“Whose eye?”

His eyebrows shot up as you were watching him with a mixture of confusion, disbelief and fear. He examined your face closely, until a surprised bark of laughter escaped him.

“You have no idea, do you?” he asked incredulously, laughing again. “That’s rich. I thought you were just pretendin’, but you really have no friggin’ idea. Well, fuck me. You have no clue who he was.”

Your breath hitched as your mind cleared out, the realization hitting you like a truck.

Oh god. Oh god, he was talking about the guy from the bar. The handsome one. What was his— Steve. This man – and you finally realized why you had the feeling of knowing him, he was the bartender, hell, maybe even the person who had somehow slipped you the drug – was talking about Steve. If that was his name anyway.

You truly had got yourself into a mess because of him, hadn’t you? A kiss. One goddamn kiss with a stranger, who might and might not have been a spy or whatever, and you were tied to a fucking chair in a fucking warehouse, your feet freezing despite the middle of May strolling, and with a death and rape threat hanging above your head like a sword of Damocles.

This man’s ‘fuck me’ suddenly felt like an appropriate reaction. Your mind was racing.

“I… I don’t. Please, I swear I don’t know what’s going on and if you let me go, I won’t tell-“

A sharp burn at your cheek shut you up, your words dying in your throat as you cried out.

“Told ya’ not to do that, Girlie. You’re dead either way, ‘cause we won’t need you anymore. You see, that door will soon be wired to a bomb our guy’s still workin’ on and whoever will come through will blow up, his insides paintin’ these shitty walls in pretty red. Not even he can be C4-proof.”

Your brain and stomach politely ignored the mental image the ‘bartender’ just gave you.

Who the hell was he? Who the hell you had met yesterday? Why was he so important? What was this? Some senseless gang war? No, Steve – or whoever he was – couldn’t be a gangster, he must have been military, but-- what the fuck was this about?

And why on Earth it had to be you who got caught up in it?

Your lips trembled just like the rest of your body as the said door flew open and four men, all dressed in black or dark blue, came through carrying guns.

White male, 5 feat 9 tall, dark hair, athletic built… the words, painfully clear, replayed in your head as you saw a man matching the description. Another three came in and you had another winner. You felt a sadistic delight at that, the pieces of the puzzle falling into place.

Not that it mattered, because you were gonna die. Well, at least you would leave one less unfinished business behind if you knew what was going on here. The thought was nauseating.

The man entering as last stopped at the door, laying down what he was carrying. Your heart jumped into your throat. A bomb. He was planting a bomb.

Jesus fucking Christ, this wasn’t happening.

“He answered?” your interrogator asked casually as he turned to the other thugs.

One of them rolled his eyes. “Tried to call us. Then it was just a fuckin’ spray of texts like ‘don’t hurt her’, ‘what do you want’, shit like that.”

Had they… had they tried to blackmail the Steve guy? What the hell?

Oh. Oh. He probably wouldn’t come unless he had a reason. Right. You fought the silly warmth around your heart when you realized he would come and that he made some sort of a plea against them hurting you. Then again, he would be rushing towards the jaws of death, which… which sucked, yeah.

Fuck.

“Aww, look at that, he cares about her. Did you know she had no clue who he was? She doesn’t even know who made out with her. Too bad she won’t get another chance to tweet about that or somethin’.”

You didn’t even try to understand now. You were just too exhausted to do so.

With so many men around, there was no way you were getting out. Not even if you freed yourself from the cuffs, even if your legs weren’t freezing and feeling as heavy as they were.

You were gonna die. And you were about to take the polite handsome stranger with you, whether you liked it or not. You sent a silent prayer and an apology to those who knew him and cared for him. And to those who cared for you as well.

And you cried.

═══════▣◎▣═══════

Part 3

═══════▣◎▣═══════

Tags: @mermaidxatxheart @winter-scolder

#marvel #fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #captain america x reader #captain america imagine #mcu #avengers #steve rogers fanfiction #captain america fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #civilian reader #steve rogers x you #no apologies needed #anika ann

122 notes · View notes

olivenight17 · 5 years ago

Text

Fluffvember Day 13 Part 2- Soulmate

Hello! I’m here to bring fluff and a wonderful sunshine boi! It uh... it got sad, I’m not gonna lie. It’s not total angst, everyone’s okay in the end. It’s just a little bit sad lol, I’m sorry! My mind ran before I could stop it. And hey @literally-just-mirio-headcanons I know you love Mirio, so have this! I’m sorry I made him sad lol

And, I’m not sure if this soulmate au actually exists, but I thought this up in my own head. This is my original soulmate au, where you can see the emotions your soulmate is feeling and it changes as their emotions at that point in time do. It affects how you see the world as you can only see the world in the various tones of whatever emotion your soulmate is feeling. You can tell when you’ve met them because they’re the only ones not affected by it, they’ll be the only ones who look normal and not in the same colors as the emotions. Also, if the soulmate is dead or unconscious, the world reverts back to how human sight and colors usually work. Hopefully that makes sense 😅

Also, I should probably put this here WARNING: This contains some manga spoilers about Mirio, so if you’d like to stay manga spoiled free, I’m afraid this won’t be quite for you.

Well, have fun you guys! Gotta say I like how this turned out, hopefully you do too.

———————————————————————

Mirio x Reader “Soulmate”

For a majority of your life, you had always seen the world in yellow hues. It was as if someone had put a filter over your eyes and the color was everywhere you looked. There was an occasion or two where the world turned blue or red, sometimes even gray, but it always seemed to leave as quickly as it came. In those moments, you created your own happiness, hoping to put some yellow back into your soulmate’s life.

It was comforting, having that sign of happiness in your life. However silent it was, it encouraged you to push through tough times and even helped you figure out your goal to help people. That goal started with UA. You took a deep breath as you walked through the school. The world around you was practically glowing with golden colors, and you couldn’t help but grin, apparently both you and your soulmate were having a good day. Peering down at your schedule, you checked one last time which classroom you were headed to first, looking up in confusion when the yellow was so bright you could barely read the words on the paper. Then, warm hands clasped around your shoulders.

Before you stood a blond haired boy with bright blue eyes and an even brighter smile. You felt your jaw drop in shock. You could see him in full colors, his figure not being filtered in yellow like your surroundings.

“Hey there! You’re my soulmate! Wow, you’re way prettier than I imagined. Not to say that I didn’t think you wouldn’t be pretty, because I did! You’re just more beautiful actually seeing you…” He started to ramble, but you weren’t quite getting everything, still coming to grips with the fact you had finally met him. This was the person giving you so much energy and support these past few years without even knowing it. Eventually, he paused and tilted his head with a smile. “Well, everything around you is starting to go white, so your mind’s either going blank because this is kinda surprising or you’re showing me how much of an angel you really are.” He gave you a lopsided grin as you felt heat spread across your cheeks like a wildfire.

On top of being energetic and happy, he was apparently also charming.

Trying to clear your head, you stuck out your hand. “Well, I don’t give out answers like that until I know your name. I’m (Y/N), it’s nice to meet you.”

He took your hand, shaking it gently but eagerly. “The name’s Mirio, it’s nice to meet you too.” His eyes trailed down to the schedule you still had in your other hand and he was quick to take out his own. “Hey, which classes do you have, maybe we have some together!” You switched schedules, only to find you had just about every class together, save for homeroom and math. “Darn, I was hoping to get to know you more on the way to homeroom, but I’m in the opposite direction. Oh well, I’ll see you in English though!”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his enthusiasm as you both began splitting off. “Don’t keep me waiting!” You called out, waving as he turned to face you.

“I can’t make you wait more than I already have.” He joked with a wink before disappearing around the corner.

The days seemed to fly the more time you spent with Mirio, only three years had passed and yet it felt like you had known him your whole life. Hanging out with him and the rest of the big three, goofing off with him, it all felt right. It was like everything finally clicked into place being with him, knowing you treasured him as much as he treasured you.

You hummed quietly as you thought about it, dropping some ramen noodles into your cart. Mirio had been on a lot of patrols lately and he said something about a secret mission he was handling. Though you were curious, you didn’t want to get him in trouble talking about something he shouldn’t be, which resulted in the surprise dinner you were making him when he got back tonight. It was a small reward for working so hard. Just as you dropped the last item in your cart, the world switched from yellow to a somber red. Mirio was probably getting ready to fight or save someone.

Thinking nothing of the change in his emotions, you went to the checkout area and began pulling out your money to pay.

“That’ll be $36.78, ma’am.”

“Alright, here it all-” Your body froze as the world changed color once again. Everything around you flashed a bright white before black overtook your surroundings, it was so dark you were sure you had gone blind. You dropped the cash you were holding, something was wrong. Something had gone horribly, horribly wrong.

“Ma’am, are you alright?” The cashier leaned towards you cautiously as you blinked.

Quickly, you collected yourself and managed to find the money, putting it on the counter. “I’m fine, I’m sorry. I just remembered something.” You told her briskly.

She nodded at you and the second she handed you the bags, you were out of the store, fishing around in your pocket for your phone. You pressed call at least five times and each time you were left with no answer. Panic was already bubbling inside of you, twisting and churning your gut. Nejire and Tamaki said they hadn’t seen him and you were at your ropes end when you saw a tv through a store window. There was a bunch of rubble where the reporter was standing, then you saw the headline. “Young Hero in Training ‘Lemillion’ Injured.”

Your blood turned to ice, and you were forgetting how to breathe. Glancing over the subtitles, you caught the name of the hospital and took off running. You pushed the doors open, frantically looking around to see if you could find him, fighting against the nurses urging you to sit down. “No, my boyfriend, he’s here, he got injured. His name’s Mirio Togata, his hero name is Lemillion, where did you put him? I need to see him!” You shouted at them, desperately trying to wrench your arms out of their grasp. “Get off of me, I need to see him! He has to be alive, I...I can’t see his emotions.” The realization all but slapped you in the face as you looked around. The world looked...normal. There wasn’t a strong color presence, it all looked ordinary. Bile began to rise in your throat.

The strength in your body left you and you all but collapsed into the nurses arms as they dragged you to a chair. You gripped onto one of them. “Can you at least tell me he’s alive?” You rasped, blinking back the tears that were trying to fall.

The nurse gave you a pitying look. “The last I saw, he was in surgery. We’ll tell you if anything happens.” After that, the nurse was gone.

There was a cold emptiness that stayed with you as you waited, sitting in that chair for hours as you hoped and prayed that he would be alright, that he’d be alive. Scenarios circled in your mind to save you from the despair that was threatening to crash over your head to drown you. Walking in the park with Mirio, going to get ice cream, laughing at all of the ridiculous faces he made to get you to smile. You were so lost in your own head, you barely registered the nurse in front of you, or the gray tones that were overtaking your vision. Slowly, you looked up at her. She had a smile on her face. “Mr. Togata is out of surgery, he’s resting well in room 203, you can visit him if you’d like.” Practically jumping out of your seat, you thanked her as you began to look for the room, but she caught your arm. “There’s one more thing you should know… he got hit with a bullet, this bullet had special properties and he no longer has his quirk.” She explained, letting go of you.

Stiffly, you nodded, before going to find him. When you found the room you were looking for, you stepped in, finding Mirio’s figure facing away from you, hunched over in a sitting position on the bed. “Mirio…?”

He turned to you, face almost completely covered in bandages, as well as the rest of his body, but he still had a smile on his face. “Hey, Sunshine.” He chuckled weakly, barely getting the words out before you rushed towards him, hugging him as tightly as you could. “Woah, it’s okay. I’m okay.” His arms wrapped around you, finally settling your frazzled nerves.

“I was so scared, you were passed out, I couldn’t see your emotions. I-I thought you were…” You trailed off, sniffling as you buried your head into his shoulder.

“I know, but I’m not. Everything’s fine, I’ll be in tip top shape in no time.” He tried to reassure you, but you could hear the emptiness in his words and the heavy gray that surrounded you suddenly became more prominent.

Taking a deep breath, you started thinking of happy things. Puppies playing in the park, the prank Nejire had pulled on Mirio last week, every good memory you could think of flooded into your head all at once. You were almost starting to giggle about it. “Sunshine, what are you doing?” Mirio asked and you pulled back to look at him with a smile.

You took his hands and you squeezed them, rubbing your thumbs along the skin in a comforting manner. “Mirio, before I even met you, you made me happy. Even on my darkest days, when I wanted to curl up into my bed and stop existing, your feelings of happiness kept me going. Even though all you could do was give me the color yellow, you gave me hope that things could be better and encouraged me. You gave me happiness when I couldn’t even muster any for myself.” Your eyes met his as you continued. “So, I think it’s only fair that I repay the favor. I know what happened, and I know it’s going to take some time to come to terms with this. I’ll be your support until then. You won’t go through this alone.”

You leaned your forehead against his, and kissed the tip of his nose. There was still a shaky smile on his lips and his eyes looked misty before he leaned in, capturing your lips with his. You happily complied, placing your hands on either side of his face. Eventually, he pulled back and brought you into a tight hug, clutching onto you like a lifeline and burying his head in the crook of your neck. You rubbed his back gently.

“You’re going to be okay. You’re going to be okay…”

#bnha #mha #fluffvember #fluff #bnha x reader #mirio #mirio togata #mirio x reader #mirio togata x reader #bnha mirio #bnha mirio x reader #minor angst #manga spoilers #soulmate #soulmate au

141 notes · View notes

mor-beck-more-problems · 4 years ago

Text

A Brainful Process || Morgan &Rio

@3starsquinn

Cemetery field trip!

(Contains: zombie and animal gore)

Cemeteries were safer to visit in Morgan’s idle house than the woods. In cemeteries, most of the company was resting six feet under, and those that weren’t had a tendency to wave at Morgan as she walked by, content to leave her alone, one still soul to another. Some even warned her when it was better to turn back home. There’s a girl with the stake that comes by around now, a ghost might say. Or, we don’t like you that much. Cemeteries were safer, yes, and yet somehow tonight Morgan still found herself tackled to the ground, wrestling with a one legged zombie who, for all her wild hunger, really knew how to use her strength to her advantage. “Uh--a little help, maybe?” She called, appealing to one of the spirits nearby. “I don’t know what you expect me to do about it,” the old man said, and drifted off to watch her struggle somewhere else. “Okay, okay, ok--ow!” The zombie woman bit into her shoulder, moaning with hunger. Morgan kicked, trying to knock her off balance enough to shift the weight between them like Mina had taught her, but it was a lot harder when the opponent didn’t have much of a mind for sensing pain. Morgan set her jaw and lashed out to struggle with the zombie woman again. “We got this,” she grunted. “You’re gonna be fine, you just gotta stop trying to eat me!”

Cemeteries had scared Orion far before he knew ghosts and spirits existed. He supposed he always knew they were real. Growing up learning about werewolves and Fae made pretty much anything believable. If his parents had bothered telling him about Santa, Rio might still think he was real. But he had always thought of ghosts in the more creepypasta YouTube sense. That they haunted others. They were crazy stories that made things colder and flipped on lights. Not the kind that possessed other humans and drained their life force. But ever since Rio had learned about the Dybbuks and other evil spirits, Rio hadn’t been able to get them off his mind. Rio began pulling books about ghosts and spirits. The more he read, the more intrigued he became with some of the accounts of sightings. Winston and Ricky must have really gotten to Rio. Without even realizing it, on his way home that night he was taking a detour and heading towards the cemetery. For no other reason than pure stupidity, if Rio had to guess. Once he was within range however, he started hearing voices. The hairs on his arms stood straight up and he immediately began shaking. At least, until he realized that the voices weren’t ghosts or spirits but a person. A person that sounded like they were in danger. Rio picked up his pace, beginning to job before breaking into a sprint towards the cemetery, stopping only when he finally spotted the source of the voice, a woman being attacked by another. “Hey!” Rio yelled, trying to sound more dangerous than he actually was, “Let her go!” Rio began moving towards the two slowly, freezing when he finally realized who the victim of the evening was, “Professor?”

The sound of another voice made Morgan’s dead body go stiff. Fuck. The last thing she needed was human company, or some hunter about to stumble upon a two-for-one deal. “W-we’re fine!” She grunted, finally grappling the zombie woman to the ground and pinning her down. “She’s--she’s just---uh--” Morgan struggled for a good lie. The woman was in literal pieces, her skin sagging off her bones and pockets of bare muscle spreading bursts of dark, grotesque color. And the person was coming closer. “Having an attack! Nothing to see here--Rio?”

Morgan saw him through the edge of her vision and didn’t know whether to be relieved or agitated. She hadn’t told Rio the ‘sudden loss in her family’ that explained away two weeks worth of missed classes had been her own. She hadn’t told any of her students. Funny enough, that still wasn’t a conversation she felt like having. But there wasn’t going to be any fooling him. He was too much of a supernatural scholar to not see the obvious, at least when it came to the woman thrashing and groaning under her. “Hey!” She said brightly, panic tight in her smile. “How weird and amazing to run into you here! I’m fine, she’s fine, we’re both fine right now, completely. But you should really stay back and um, maybe grab some rope? And some fresh brains?” She was convinced, maybe falsely, that she had enough confidence to sell everything she was saying without the need for questions. Then the zombie woman rocked against her weight and threw her off, driven by the pull of fresh meat.

For a long moment, Orion just stood from a distance and stared at Morgan and the woman clawing at her. This didn’t make any sense. Why was Morgan being so casual right now? Was this some sort of fever dream brought on by the lack of sleep? “Uh” Rio hummed, drawing it out for far longer than any of them needed. “Both fine. Right.” He realized, maybe many beats too late, that he had still not moved from his spot. Until now, he had stared at the sight as if it was a horror scene in a movie. “Brains?” Rio asked, touching at his head instinctively before realizing that Morgan probably had a rope and brains here. Because this was a zombie. A zombie. A ZOMBIE? It took this long for the fear to finally rush into Rio’s body and he immediately started fidgeting, the usual skin crawling feeling worming its way through his body. “Oh my god. A zombie! I’ve never met a zombie! I’m going to do something now.” Rio spoke aloud, as if that was going to finally motivate his body to follow the commands. Apparently it worked, his feet finally inching across the grass and towards the two. “What do you want me to do with these things once I have them?”

Morgan’s thin smile fractured with dismay. As much as she was relieved Rio wasn’t some guns a blazing hunter trying to get more goo for their collection. But she didn’t know if this was really the time for scholarly curiosity either. Maybe more like run and take action time. Move faster NOW time. Morgan dove for the zombie again, tackling her to the ground and pressing down with all her weight. She looked up at Rio, pleading for his help. She could keep the zombie pinned down for now, but she wouldn’t be able to help the dead woman with just her hands alone. And, shit--of course Rio wouldn’t have anything on him. He wasn’t Kaden, for crying out loud. Morgan looked around them, mind racing to keep up, to stay ahead of any panic. Maybe this was the time for scholarly curiosity. “The plan!” She said, forcing as much confidence into her bright voice as possible. “The plan is you...find something that will do instead of rope. Um...your belt! And uuh…” She looked around her with dismay. “My belt!” It was a lot daintier, meant for her small waist as decoration rather than supporting any weight. “And we are going to bind the zombie as tightly as we can. Because, fun fact: zombies have a much higher pain threshold than humans! Whatever would hurt for you won’t hurt for them, so that’s not something to worry about when they’re...like this.” She swallowed thickly and forced another smile as the zombie rocked and struggled under her. “When her limbes are secure, we’ll get her some of the food from my bag--” what was supposed to have been her lunch, “--and give her some of that. And then...more, probaby. From...somewhere else. I’m not...actually sure from where yet, but--fun zombie fact 2: decomposition and ‘rabid’ behavior is a symptom of starvation and not, necessarily, the zombie’s natural state! With sustainable access to food, your average zombie isn’t much different than a human, by outward appearances anyway.” Now if they could work on this together without Rio wondering too hard about how she knew all this, it might actually be easy. Or at least, not hard.

Okay, obviously it was clear that Morgan was preoccupied right now. Trying to hold back the woman- er uh the zombie from munching on either of them. Ignoring the swelling excitement as well as the far more palpable fear that was building inside of him, Orion tried to put aside any jitters and listen to Morgan’s instructions. He was lucky he had worn jeans today instead of the usual joggers or track pants, and that he was embarrassingly skinny for his age and height, so any pair of jeans that he wore usually required a belt. He pulled the belt free, hooking his pinky around a belt loop to avoid his jeans dropping. God, that would be embarrassing. “Okay uh- my belt is good. And your belt is uh- still attached to you.” Rio called, still standing a few feet back. He was not incredibly comfortable with the idea of undoing his teacher’s belt, but he supposed there were… strange circumstances.

“This is great!” Rio tried remaining positive, his voice cracking at the end of his sentence. Although Rio greatly appreciated the information on Zombies, a species he had not done much study on. He was familiar with a couple of culture’s depiction of zombies in their own lore, but from what Morgan was describing, they differed quite a bit. “I am very happy to help and I am totally going to keep my cool during this time.” Rio said aloud, probably trying to convince himself more than he was trying to convince Morgan. He slowly inched towards them, holding his arms out with his belt gripped tightly in both hands. “Do uh- you want me to do this? Or you? Is the whole thing about a zombie bite still true?”

Jeepers, this was going to be tricky. The zombie woman was beginning to thrash, dragging her and Morgan across the ground inch by inch. The closer Rio got, the more she wriggled her head, gnashing her rotting teeth. Morgan shifted position, pressing her knee down into the woman’s back. This was really not very seemly, but she couldn’t think of another way that would keep the zombie from hurting anyone long enough to feed properly. “We got this, we got this,” she murmured, still racing for ideas. “We got this!” She declared. “You are doing a great job, Rio! Just grab her legs and I’ll get the arms, and we’ll bind them up together. No worries!” She grabbed one of the zombie’s arms, then the other, wrestling against the woman’s frustration. “But, uh, yeah, about the bite. Fun fact, that’s--fuck!” The zombie woman’s teeth bit into her hand, grazing the cuff she used to hide her real scar. Morgan finished wrangling the arms with a grimace and whipped off her belt to fasten her arms together so the wrists would come more easily. “The bite thing is real,” she said, looking down at the wound in her hand. “But don’t freak out, Rio, okay? It doesn’t matter if she bites me, it’s you I’m worried about. Uh, get her wrists and ankles together?”

Orion could do this. He could totally do this. He did not love the idea of grabbing onto this woman, zombie or no. But Morgan seemed convinced that she would not feel the pain and that they were not going to harm her. That was what Rio wanted right? What was some tying and gagging if it meant helping her and others not get hurt? That was totally something that Rio could get behind. Grabbing onto her legs was surprisingly easy. Hunter strength and all made wrangling the woman’s legs surprisingly easy. At least, until the zombie bit Morgan. Rio dropped the legs immediately and began screaming his head off. At that moment, he wasn’t sure what was happening. Would Morgan turn into a zombie? How fast was the process? Was there something he could do to stop it? Rio had seen some zombie shows. How they amputated the body part that had been bitten to stop the spread. Even the idea made Rio light headed. He definitely couldn’t do that. Finally, Rio contained himself again, grappling the legs again and holding them. What the heck did Morgan mean that she wasn’t worried about herself? Was she immune to the bite somehow? “I- I don’t- uhhhhh” Rio’s brain broke for a moment, but he forced himself out of the slump. Grabbing onto the woman’s wrists and easily pulling them back to meet the ankles and wrapping his belt around them. “Oh god- Oh god. I hate this. I’m really bad at this. I think I’m going to puke. Are you okay???”

“Rio! You cannot puke on this woman!” Morgan shrieked. Oh dear. This wasn’t calm. This was the opposite of calm. Could she breathe? Was that ever going to work again? She missed the time when all she had to do was tell herself to breathe and her body would start to right itself back into something right and normal. But the quiet was too great and there was too much happening at once. “I’m fine! I’m not even bleeding!” Mostly because she didn’t have any circulation. “Just--just hold her steady and don’t turn into a zombie!” She scrambled over to her bag and prised open a tupperware full of brains, a blend, as it happened, but even a smidgen of person in there probably wasn’t going to get this woman back to normal. They’d have to take her somewhere better, or get better to her. Morgan stuck the tupperware under the woman’s nose and watched, grimacing, as she moaned and wrangled herself closer to fit as much of it in her mouth as possible. Morgan sat back and deflated. That would keep her busy for, what, five minutes? “I’m sorry,” she said. “I am fine though. I’m…” Morgan shook her head and sid off the cuff, showing Rio her old scar, a perfect oval in the shape of Remmy’s mouth. “I’m already bitten and dead, Rio. Say, you didn’t happen to bring a car here, did you?”

“I’m not going to puke on her!” Orion yelled back, unsure why he was even still yelling. Stress. He totally blamed stress. He needed to calm down. Take a chill pill or something. That was all thrown out the window when Morgan tried to reassure him by letting him know that she wasn’t bleeding. “How are you not bleeding?” Rio was right back to freaking out now. But Morgan seemed more together than Rio was. She was in the right state of mind to fish out something from her bag and give it to the tied up woman. “Is that… brains?” Rio asked, the most calm he had been since showing up here. He examined the mush curiously. Everything seemingly clicked into place when Morgan showed off what looked like an old, already healed scar. She was dead? “You’re… a zombie?” Rio muttered aloud, needing to hear the words to actually begin processing it. A moment of fear passed through him as he considered that Rio had just willingly walked into being part of their midnight snack. But he pushed the thought away quickly. That couldn’t be. This was his professor. They had talked about books and the supernatural together. “Woah. You’re nothing like the old Haitian story of zombies.” His head tilted curiously as he examined his teacher to try to pick out any defining details. By all accounts, she looked human to him. “Hmm… interesting.” Rio nodded, and then grimaced at the next question, “About that… I don’t really have a car right now. It belongs to my parents and I’m not really talking to them right now and- y’know what? It’s a whole thing. Clearly we have other things going on right now. Maybe I can call my friend Blanche. Or one of my roommates! Maybe they can help us? Or uh… Where are we taking her anyways?”

“Wow, kid, that’s really one heck of a compliment,” Morgan deadpanned. “But...yes. I got hurt really bad and I died. Two months ago now. That’s why I missed so much school towards the end of the semester. I died, Rio.” She looked down at the woman gnashing her teeth at the brain bits in the tupperware. “But I have people who help take care of me. I can stay fed easily. I have a home. I have a girlfriend that loves me. I even have magic pills for my new zombie physiology that help manage all the depression I’ve got over dying. I don’t know which of those this woman is missing, but whatever it is, she’s still a person. She’s as much of a person as I am. Does that make sense?” She looked at him earnestly. Rio was a good kid. Rio didn’t believe in hurting people. He had to get it. Maybe it was hard to see the woman in her own right. Even Morgan couldn’t do that. She didn’t know her name or if she was happy before she died or how long she had been dragging herself out of bed. She could only see her pain. She had to be in so much pain to have sunk this far. The days of starving had to have been excruciating. With this kind of decay, maybe it was even weeks. “I was thinking of getting her to the butcher’s, but I don’t know if their stock will be enough for her. It’s worth a shot, if we can keep her from getting noticed. “Unless you wanna do a run? You got venmo, Rio?” She asked. The brains were almost gone, and of the two of them, Rio was the one most in danger. And this wasn’t his problem, now that she was mostly subdued. “You don’t have to, you know. I can take this from here.”

Okay, so maybe that wasn’t the best thing to say at this moment. Clearly, Orion had no idea what he was doing. He had grown up knowing about the supernatural. He loved learning about them and yet despite this he still had just barely scratched the surface. He knew nothing about Zombies, or real zombies at least. “Wow. I’m uh- sorry? That doesn’t sound like a good thing. But you don’t look dead.” Rio tried, he didn’t think that helped redeem him. “Okay that was probably a bad thing to say too. But despite all that… I’m really glad that you have a good support system, y’know? That must have been a really difficult thing to go through and… well I’m really glad things seem okay now. At least, hopefully everything’s okay.” And Morgan seemed dead set on helping this woman right now. And though the woman tied up seemed a little… murdery right now, Rio believed that with some help she could end up like Morgan seemed now. Completely put together. “I believe you. And I’m in. Let’s help her. Uh- I can run somewhere and get stuff… I don’t know what to get. But tell me and I’ll figure something out.”

“Well, you can tell that to my necrosis whenever I wait too long to eat my wheaties.” Morgan mumbled. You can test my pulse too, if you want.” She held out her hand, the bite standing out as a heavy shadow on her pale skin. “And no, you don’t need to be sorry--” But Rio was. He was just a kid doing his best with problems way bigger than himself. “But thank you. I know you mean it well.” She stared at the woman writhing in front of them again. She could see, too clearly now, what hunters did. A raving thing, a disaster they needed to triage before it got out of hand, a monster… “I can venmo you. A hundred dollars so should be able to buy out the brains at the butcher shop, whatever other weird organs they’ve got. That’s a start.” And while he was out she could maybe scrounge up a deer. They wandered through near dusk in little clusters, and it was the time of year when fauns were left to hide in the tall grass while mothers hunted. If she was quick and lucky, she’d be able to nab one for this woman to have. And maybe then, maybe if they were lucky, she could be okay. Morgan wrenched a hand through her hair and took out her phone to send the money over.

Orion laughed, happy that despite the horrible events that had clearly befallen his teacher without him even knowing about it, she could maintain some level of humor. “Don’t worry. I believe you. It’s uh- definitely not my first rodeo with the supernatural.” Even if he didn’t quite understand, he did believe. “Um right. I got it. Give me…” Rio paused, checking his phone for the time, “Twenty minutes. I’ll be back as soon as possible.”

One of the good things about being a hunter? Superhuman endurance. Rio was definitely not in shape, but he could run for a while without having to stop. From here, he was pretty sure that it would be more efficient to get a car. If he could run home and borrow Ricky’s truck then he could get to the butcher shop and back without too much trouble. So he ran towards their house as fast as he possibly could, not letting anything distract him.

It worried Morgan how much animals still trusted her. The faun was too scared of the moaning woman six yards ahead to move. Morgan was able to settle down near it, still as death, and when it came over to sniff her out of curiosity, she took its neck and snapped it. The head dangled limp from the body like a toy that had lost all its stuffing. She carried it back to the woman and did not have to wait for her to wriggle and strain against her bonds trying to eat it. Morgan took out a knife and sliced the creature open neatly so she didn’t have to fight. Then she walked away enough yards so the smell of it wouldn’t compel her to steal a starving woman’s meal and licked blood and skin from her hands.

When Rio finally returned, Morgan was perched atop a large cross marker, stained with blood for all that she’d tried to keep herself clean. “Just unwrap everything for her and drop it where she can reach,” she called. “And then, you know, come over here so you don’t get bitten.”

Buying brains from a butcher was perhaps the most uncomfortable Orion had ever been. Despite this incredibly odd request, the butcher didn’t seem to think much of it at all. Which could only mean that this was not an uncommon request that he received. Which probably implied that Morgan and this woman were not the only zombies in town. It hadn’t occurred until now that Morgan could have been the one that turned this woman. But no. His Professor wouldn’t do that. Not unless she had to for some reason. Right?

Rio drove back to Morgan mostly in silence. He hated driving the truck. He didn’t trust himself with a big car. Plus he could barely see while driving the thing and hated ruining Ricky’s seat and mirror placement. But desperate times. Rio parked and hopped out, extending his arm so he could hold the brains at a distance from himself. “I’m here!” Rio yelled out, stopping when he noticed that Morgan had blood all over her shirt. Oh no. “What happened? Are you okay?” Rio asked. Despite this, maybe because he was too trusting just as Athena had always insulted him with, he followed Morgan’s instructions. Unwrapping the brains and tossing it to the tied up woman before hopping away and standing close to his professor. He could smell the blood that stained her. It was fresh.

“It’s okay, Rio,” Morgan said. “What do you think I’m gonna do, die again?” She smirked. A beat later, maybe too late, she wondered if that was maybe a bad joke. Rio knew about the supernatural, but maybe not about death. He hadn’t studied zombies before in his big secret library. He barely seemed comfortable with hauling brains and organs over from the butcher. Morgan sighed with a grimace and tried again. “I killed a faun for her. I didn’t think that was something you needed to be around to see. Brains sustain zombies best, but freshly dead meat is…” Her stomach grumbled, twisting. “Like candy on Halloween. You can’t not have any.” She looked down at him, still clinging to her perch. Her fingers had worn notches into the rock, worrying at the grain to keep from breaking off Bambi’s leg and going to town herself. “It’s just how we’re made,” she said quietly. “When the mother comes back to see if her faun is still around, I’ll try to get her too, if our friend isn’t back to herself yet.” She hesitated a moment, wondering if they had crossed into over sharing territory, if this was already too much for one troubled kid to bear in one night. “You don’t have to watch, or be around for any of that,” she said. “This is just another Tuesday for me, but it was a lot to get used to. It still is. You’ve been a big help, though. If all this turns out okay, it’s gonna be because of you. Because you cared.” She cleared her throat awkwardly. “You uh...you can ask me questions, if you have any. I know all this is...strange. And lived experience can tell you certain things a book can’t.” She offered him a smile, her fear weighing on her softness. Please don’t think less of me for this.

Orion laughed nervously. Was that Morgan being offended? Or Morgan making a joke. A few seconds later and Morgan smirked at Rio, hopefully confirming that it had been a joke instead. “A faun.” Rio repeated, mostly to himself. He was still processing. Rio appreciated the information. He was taking mental notes, making sure to remember all of the information that he was learning about zombies. Maybe he would head back to the building tomorrow, start digging through his books for some information on the undead. The whole thing seemed like Alain’s side, but Rio knew better than to trust a hunter’s point of view when it came to the supernatural. Rio knew from personal experience that those teachings were biased. “I don’t- I usually don’t do that well around blood. But uh- I don’t want to make you do this stuff by yourself.” Morgan opened the board for questions. And boy, did Rio have questions. Way more questions than he possibly knew how to order and ask. “I- I have questions. But right now seems like the wrong time, y’know? With her… in the state she is in.” He sighed. Just another person in this town that has been through some awful experience that Rio wasn’t able to help prevent.

Morgan nodded and watched the woman eat. It might’ve been faster to let her have her hands back, but Morgan remembered the complete haze around her mind when she woke into her feeding frenzy. She hadn’t even known her own name, much less ‘eating people bad.’ If the wrong person had been in the room, she probably would’ve done everything she could to tear them to bits. “Anyone tell you lately what a good kid you are?” She asked. It was a rhetorical question, but she hoped nonetheless that someone was encouraging his generosity. Even if he could probably stand to get less squeamish. In time, the groans of the woman changed. Morgan gestured for Rio to stay back and made her way slowly over.

There was hardly anything left of the faun, but just enough that Morgan couldn’t stop herself from reaching into its ruined skull and scooping out its small black eyes and the thin tissue of its cheek muscle to munch on. She knelt down near the woman, still working the flesh in her mouth. “Hey,” she said, gently as she could with her mouth half full. “Can you talk? Are you good now?” The woman groaned and dashed herself into the red stained grass, angling her mouth for the rest of the faun. “Okay! Not feeling the impulse control. That’s okay! But I’m gonna need like...one intelligible word before you get this carcass.”

“Mmmhh. Aaarr...oh..k-kay.”

Blessed universe she was okay.

Morgan went around and loosened her bonds enough for her to wriggle free and stepped back as she held the faun and the scraps of flesh she hadn’t devoured yet as if they were all the treasure in the world. “You...shouldn’t...have done this,” she panted.

“I don’t see why not, Morgan replied. “What’s your name?”

The woman sucked the last remnants of life from the faun’s ribs and reached for a scattering of brain bits to shove into her mouth. “Ashley,” she said at last. “I didn’t--” She paused to swallow. As she wiped the mess from her chin she caught sight of the blood and mess on her hands, matching Morgan’s and then some. “I didn’t ask for any of this,” she said through gritted teeth. “Not any of this, you idiots.” And then she was sprinting downhill, stumbling and falling over her own feet but never stopping, the dead animal still tucked in her arms. Morgan reached for her, but caught only the edge of her torn hiking vest. It fell right off, like it had been waiting to all along.

“It hurts sometimes, being like this, Rio,” she said, hanging her head as Ashley disappeared from sight. “Even when you have everything you need, it can still hurt.” There wasn’t any point in tracking her down again, not when Rio could get hurt, and he had done so much already. She willed herself to look up and gave him the saddest apologetic smile. “Sorry you got sucked into this. What were you up to before anyway?”

Orion felt the heat burning his cheeks as the blush came on. Good kid. They weren’t unfamiliar words, not anymore. But they still warmed him each time he heard them. He supposed being starved for acceptance and praise did that to a kid. “Uh- I get told that more so recently than ever before. But uh- Thank you.” Whether or not she was expecting an answer, Rio thought it would be rude to just not thank her for the compliment.

Over time, Rio witnessed first hand how the almost primal hunger seemed to die down from the woman. Slowly, her eating became less frantic and more of that of a human that had not eaten in days. Morgan was fearless, strolling right up to her. Though he supposed death probably helped to quell many of the fears that Rio felt right now.

The zombie- Ashley- seemed confused. Scared, even. And despite what the two had done to help her, Ashley took off the moment she was comprehensive and scurried off down the hill, leaving Rio and Morgan by themselves. And all of that fear and anguish that Rio could see in Ashley’s face, must have been similar to what Morgan had been through. Her words were raw, her smile doing nothing to mask the sadness or pain present in her voice. This was her life now. Something she was forced to deal with in order to stay alive. Or re-alive, which wasn’t actually a word but would have to apply for this situation. “You helped her. Even though she couldn’t see it right now… you just protected people from potentially getting hurt. And you protected her from making a terrible mistake. That’s… incredible.” Rio breathed, realizing only now that he had been holding his breath the entire time. “I was just at the old Scribe building, heading home for the night when I heard the noises outside the cemetery.”

“Stars, I hope so,” Morgan sighed. She didn’t feel like she had done much. She had hoped to at least talk to someone else like her for a little longer, to ask what she really needed to get by for longer than a day or two. Who did she have? How had she starved so badly? All she had to go on was one torn up hiking vest and a name. She pushed the thought of Ashley to the back of her mind. Maybe she could put out a call online or ask the ghosts in the cemetery to keep an eye out, just in case she turned up here again or...something. But for now she was as good as lost.

Morgan exhaled. Without the need for air, her body retained most of its tension from the past hour until she worked consciously at it, slumping and rolling her neck and shoulders and arms. “You helped too, Rio. I wouldn’t have been able to manage her by myself. Come on,” she urged gently. She held out an arm, beckoning him close, imagining a one armed hug to calm his nerves. Then she saw the blood on her hands and thought better on it. She let it fall limp at her side and wiped it down on her skirt. “I appreciate that you tried. That counts for something. Let’s get you home, okay?”

#brainful process #wr rio #wr chatzy #wr rio chatzy #wr

13 notes · View notes

alarawriting · 4 years ago

Text

Inktober 2020 #17: Storm

Iris was laughing as she got in the car. “Weather reports say it’s gonna be a big one!”

Caitlyn had just met this woman. This was a ridiculous idea. Chasing a violent thunderstorm had to be the dumbest idea any human ever had, surpassed only by chasing tornados, which apparently Iris also did when she was further west. There was no way in which it was a good idea to get into the passenger seat of the car.

Caitlyn slid into the passenger seat. “Just so you know, I feel like this is probably a dumb idea.”

“Of course it’s a dumb idea!” Iris started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot. “Humanity only progresses by having dumb ideas!”

Her laughter, her cheer, was infectious. Iris was nearly six feet tall and easily two hundred eighty pounds, her hair buzzed short and her arms tattooed. She was everything Caitlyn’s mother would have told her to be wary of. She was also sunlight in human form. Her force of personality was blinding, overwhelming, but warm, and it lit up the world.

On the interstate, the miles per hour crossed the 55 line and continued to go up. “Where are we going?” Caitlyn asked. “I mean, yeah, a thunderstorm, but physically where?”

“We’re going south to intercept it. Probably hit it near the Maryland border, so we’ll take the bypass to the wild side of Delaware and follow it down on local roads.”

“This is crazy. You know that, right? It’s just a storm.”

“They’re never just storms, Caity.” Caitlyn could have gone a long time not knowing how Iris was spelling that, but unfortunately, Iris had addressed her by name in the text she’d sent to provide her number and email address. “Storms can kill people. They don’t have to be hurricanes. They knock down trees, they take out the power, they cause accidents. So I hunt them down.”

“That… really doesn’t make any sense.”

“Oh, you’ll see! It’ll be fun, I haven’t had a friend along on one of these trips in a year!”

Iris cut off a tractor trailer, causing the bellow of an air horn behind them. Small wonder no one wanted to go with her. “What happened with the last friend?”

“We broke up. She thought I was reckless! Can you imagine?” The smile Iris briefly flashed at Caitlyn before turning back to the road knew exactly why her ex thought her reckless, and was self-mocking about it.

“No, I can’t imagine it,” Caitlyn said, deadpan.

“But you know I’m reckless and you got in the car with me anyway, so if sometime in the future you say to me, ‘you’re too reckless’, I can say, ‘you knew that about me on the first date.’”

“This is a date?”

Iris’s laughter this time was almost a bark. “Pretty sure it must be! You’re not in love with storm chasing and you don’t like the way I drive, so you must have gotten in the car on the strength of my beauty and charisma, or something.”

“Something,” Caitlyn agreed, though in fact that was exactly why she got in the car. There was no way Iris could be considered beautiful by airbrushed Hollywood standards, but Caitlyn had always thought those women seemed somehow plastic, unreal, and now she knew why. Iris was realer than real, larger than life, and since they’d met and started talking at the mixer less than an hour ago, she’d known she was willing to get in Iris’s car and go anywhere. Including to Maryland to find a thunderstorm.

“You must be looking to add some chaos and recklessness to your life. Every woman who gets in my car is looking for that, or they wouldn’t get in the car.”

“How many women have gotten in your car like that?” Caitlyn asked, somewhat taken aback.

“Oh, only three.” Iris wove in and out of a wolfpack of cars. “Four, now, counting you. I don’t exactly run around luring all the women in with my siren song.” She laughed. “How about you, any ex-girlfriends? Or boyfriends, I don’t judge.”

“One boyfriend when I was fifteen, back before I knew I was a lesbian. One girlfriend. We were together for ten years.”

“Oh no! What happened?”

Caitlyn shrugged. “She thought I was boring. And not very good in bed. She wasn’t rude enough to say it in those words, but I can read between the lines.” Strange; Caitlyn hadn’t told anyone else that, and would normally have thought it oversharing. She wasn’t entirely sure why she was telling Iris, now. It didn’t seem like a great idea to warn a woman you were interested in that your last girlfriend thought you were boring in bed.

“Well, my philosophy is, if your girlfriend is bad in bed, it’s usually because you’re a lousy communicator and you never told her what you wanted, or else you’re a picky picky princess and you have a very narrow range of tolerance for what you like. At least, if she’s a cool human being in the first place, which you seem like you probably are.”

“No, it – she was wilder than me, and she wanted more than I could give.”

“Then it just sounds like you were incompatible,” Iris declared.

She glanced down at her tablet. “Huh. It’s changing course. We’re going to take the highway all the way down, Caity, be faster that way. I think we’ll be able to intersect it at Delaware House.”

“At where?”

“It’s a rest stop on I-95 near the Maryland border. I’m gonna need somewhere to pull over and it’s not a great idea to do that on the highway itself if you have any choice in the matter.”

“What’re you going to do when you catch it?” Caitlyn asked.

“I’m gonna punch it in the nose!” Iris laughed.

Caitlyn chuckled. “Okay, but seriously. You take pictures of them? Do you send them to NOAA or something? What do you do when you catch the storm you’re chasing?”

“You’ll see!”

***

An hour later and they were inside the storm, according to Iris’ tablet, which was set to a live feed of satellite imaging from weather.com or someplace. They’d just crossed the Delaware Memorial Bridge, and it was raining hard. The tablet said it was eleven minutes to Delaware House, but that was probably assuming normal highway speed, and despite the rain, Iris was still driving at least 75 miles an hour.

“So you wanna get some food or something after we’re done here? Delaware House has a Popeye’s, we could get fried chicken.”

“Sure, why not.” Caitlyn had spent the past hour talking about herself, which was weird, because usually she was quiet and would hang back in any conversation, and she usually preferred to listen rather than talk. And you’d think Iris’ boisterousness would make it so she’d always be the one talking, but in fact she’d said almost nothing about herself. She’d talked a lot, but mostly questions for Caitlyn, who’d found herself as a result telling Iris her entire life story. “Maybe you can tell me some things about yourself. I feel like I’ve been talking and talking. You must be sick of hearing my voice.”

“I would never get sick of that voice, Caity. You have a lovely voice.”

“Most people don’t think so. They think I’m quiet and monotonous. Or, sometimes, loud and monotonous.”

“Some people have no grasp of subtlety,” Iris said. “Oh, good, the timing’s perfect. Looks like the center of the storm’s going to be passing over here in minutes. If I speed up just a little, we should get to Delaware House in time.”

“Why is the center of the storm so important? Does it look any different than the rest of the storm?”

“Not to most people,” Iris said cryptically, and leaned forward like a race car driver, her foot presumably turning into a block of lead from how the car sped up.

“Uh, aren’t you worried about hydroplaning?” Caitlyn yelled over the sound of the engine revving as they accelerated.

“Water knows better than to do that to me!” Iris yelled back, grinning.

“No, but seriously--!”

“Don’t worry about it, I’ve got the car under control!”

Caitlyn held onto the handle above the car door, awkwardly – it really wasn’t positioned well to be a safety handle – as Iris raced through the storm, only slowing down when she reached Delaware House. She coasted onto the left-side exit and allowed momentum to carry her to the parking lot, only braking once she was there.

As she pulled into a parking spot in the back, she said, “I don’t know if you wanna stay in the car or come out with me, but you can do whatever you like. I gotta get a move on, though, the storm center’s almost here.”

“I’ll stay in the car for now,” Caitlyn said, wondering if all of this was a terrible mistake. Maybe Iris was right and she was looking to add some recklessness and chaos to her life, but maybe this was too much.

“Okay.” Iris got out of the car, and looked up at the sky. The rain was coming down in sheets so thick, it was hard for Caitlyn to actually see her through it – she was a blob of color, not a clear human shape. But she heard Iris’ voice with surprising clarity.

“OKAY, MOTHERFUCKER! IT’S ON, NOW!”

What.

“COME ON, YOU LITTLE PISS TRICKLE! YOU CALL THIS RAIN, MY MOMMA DUMPED MORE WATER DOWN MY THROAT WHEN SHE GAVE ME A SIPPY CUP TO DRINK FROM! GET OVER HERE, YOU COWARD, AND FACE ME!”

The wind moaned, making the car creak.

“YEAH? YOU WANNA SAY THAT TO MY FACE, YOU DUMB SHIT? COME ON! LET’S GET THIS PARTY STARTED!”

And then, as Caitlyn stared in absolute shock, Iris punched the sky… and the sky reeled, the clouds parting for a bare moment, before thunder rolled and lightning slammed down, hitting a nearby tree.

“YOUR AIM’S WORSE THAN A BLIND GRANDMA THROWING A DISHRAG! THINK YOU CAN HIT ME? COME AT ME, FUCKER!” Iris punched the clouds again – impossibly, because they were however many thousands of feet in the air and she was here on the ground, but the clouds roiled as if they’d been struck. Then she went to the ground, rolling, and came up to a sitting position next to an oversized pickup truck. Lightning struck the truck, and Iris sprang up and swung her fists at the sky again, her body language suggesting that she was putting all of her body’s force into the punches, and meeting resistance. One, two, three punches, and a gap opened in the clouds and stayed that way. Lightning came down again and hit a tree in the picnic area.

“OH, YEAH! GOTCHA ON THE ROPES NOW! GIVE IT UP, YOU SUMBITCH, IT’S ALL OVER FOR YOU!”

She swung her left arm out in a blocking gesture. A moment later, lightning struck inches away from the arm. Iris followed up with multiple punches, clearing more of the sky. The rain had significantly diminished, making it much easier to see what she was doing. “GET OUT OF MY GODDAMN SKY, MOFO! DID I GIVE YOU PERMISSION TO BE HERE? WELL, DID I, DIPSHIT?” More punches, more clear sky. Another lightning strike, and an increase in the wind, blowing hard enough that the car actually rocked in it. And then Iris swung her arm out against the wind, and it dissipated. ��THAT’S RIGHT, YOU LITTLE SHIT CREEK, WHO’S YOUR MAMA? WHO’S YOUR MAMA? I’M THE GODDAMN MOTHERFUCKING RAINBOW, KIDDO, NOW GET BACK TO YOUR FUCKING PLAYPEN AND DRINK YOUR BABA!”

There was, in fact, a rainbow glittering in the sky, as the storm turned to mist.

Iris pulled the car door open. She was completely drenched. “Well, I kicked that thing’s ass,” she reported gleefully. “You up for fried chicken?”

“How – how did you –”

“Hon. You are the Greek mythology expert. How do you think? I said I was the goddamn rainbow, and I know you heard me, right?” She grinned widely.

“Iris was the goddess of the rainbow, and messenger of the gods,” Caitlyn said, mechanically, “but there was nothing in mythology about her fighting storms.”

“That’s because the Greeks were a bunch of patriarchal assholes. They saw Zeus throw some lightning bolts around one time and decided he was the god of storms. Never thought about the fact that rainbows come out after a storm’s over, did they?” She took a step back from the car and shook herself, like a dog, sending raindrops flying everywhere. “So. Do I drive you home now or do we go get fried chicken?”

Caitlyn took a deep breath. “Fried chicken. I have so many questions.”

“And I’ve got so many answers, so this will work out great!”

The storm had turned into nothing but a misty drizzle. Caitlyn got out of the car and followed Iris toward the glassed-in building that was Delaware House.

------------------------------------------------

While this is far from the only story idea of mine inspired by it, I definitely do have to credit “Fear for the Storm” by Jessica Best, from the podcast series “Starship Iris”, for inspiring this story. Also the Holly Near song “How Bold”, but with a happier outcome.

#inktober 2020 #alara's october 2020 prompt fics #lesbians #stormchasers

4 notes · View notes

bapydemonprincess · 4 years ago

Note

Can you tell us more about reaper ambrose? (I am sorry if the question isn't specific I am bad with asking questions)

AWW YOU!! QwQ Thank you so much for asking! 💖💖💖💖 I love my poor tragic boy!!!

TRIGGER WARNING: Descriptions of a character committing suicide.

I got very very curious early on about Ambrose getting so desperate to get supernatural powers he’d try becoming a reaper. I held off for a long time due to my focus being on I guess.. “canon Ambrose” getting a demon of his own as a boyfriend eventually! And I do love love LOVE those two SO much!! 🖤🖤🖤 But my mind still kept wandering back to this concept, and I just didn’t know HOW it would happen... I can’t remember when or what triggered the idea, but mainly I knew the biggest issue Ambrose had to prevent him from trying THIS out was his mother being capable of uncovering what the fuck he was doing the second he’d dare anything... So he’d need something to keep Sebastian from REACHING him.

Once he was full on in the mindset, and determined to get this done, Ambrose came across a nearby town... where a very old church was. Every day he’d come around, hovering, seeing the times it was in service, seeing how many went to it, and when they all left...

Finally, in a very quiet part of the night, sometime past 3, Ambrose slipped into that church himself, along with what he knew would be the best way. Fast, if done right. And Ambrose had certainly studied for a while on how to do everything right.

He even set some wards down too around the area. Much less obvious than the church itself such a salt, and sage and thyme plants. As well as a few drawn runes he knew to be useful and real, from some tomes he’d been given by his dear aunt Hannah.

He then set up a chair, and started tackling the rope he would be using.

He knew there were many possibilities of this failing, as he assumed such tactics always had a 50% chance of going wrong, at least. But... he had to try. This was his only chance.

As he tightened the rope firmly around his neck, Ambrose took his last deep breaths, before stepping off the chair and letting gravity do its job.

It indeed worked fast. Faster than even he would expect from such a tactic. But as he lost the ability to properly breathe, felt everything go black, and nothingness embrace him just like when one suddenly falls asleep, his last thought was likely a muddy brief comment like “finally.”

Of course, this lead to a strange scene the next morning, of a man in a black suit pacing and hovering around the church, looking increasingly disgruntled. No one had ever seen this man around here before...

The priest came out, to address him.

“May I help you sir?”

“Yes, I know this may seem out of the blue, but please.. check your attic.” The man seemed to stand tense and yet vibrating with some held back emotion, deep chocolate eyes looking watery as well. His chest rose and fell frantically.

The priest, of course, stood there a few seconds, confused. But having a feeling deep down that this was not a matter to be taken lightly.

“Alright, I’ll go see. Please wait here.” The man responded finally, hand held up, as if instinctively trying to sooth though he had no idea why. Not yet.

Within the next half hour, the small town old church became a very riotous location, as a young man was found, having hung himself in the church attic, and surrounded for some reason by salt and plants. The body was brought down, and the people inside went into an uproar, but the priest did not stop to put the poor young man’s body somewhere inside, he dutifully and almost mechanically walked back out, coming back out to the man in the black suit, who automatically erupted with sobs and shot forward to take up the boy’s body.

The priest then noticed another new person nearby. A man who distinctly looked Eastern Indian, and clearly had a connection with the other man. He rushed forward as well, to embrace the other, tears also already streaming down his face.

Despite their emotional state, the taller man looked to the priest, and nodded gratefully. “Thank you,” he choked out, “thank you for finding him.”

The priest then automatically offered them help in getting him to a hospital, but they denied, trying to get away from the scene as fast as possible. The priest was left with many confused, concerned and hysterical church goers, and could only stand there, briefly pray that the couple got through their grief safely, and tried to go back to his audience to calm everyone.

Over the next weeks the Michaelis family was quite hysterical, specifically Sebastian and Aarushi themselves, becoming unstable and trying to find some way to get Ambrose back. Sebastian, of course, being so stubborn and well.. block headed that he tried going to the reaper realm himself.

Of course this lead to Miss Grelle Sutcliff rescuing his dumb ass from getting skewered by death scythes.

But the bleak madness didn’t end there. Sebastian resorted to requesting Hannah, the powerful matriarch demoness and Grelle herself to doing whatever they could to get in contact with Ambrose, to find SOME way, even if he was now permanently a reaper, to get him back home.

Hannah... refused. She tried calmly explaining to Sebastian that it was out of everyone’s hands, including hers. If Ambrose chose this, then it was up to him on what he did next. He was a full grown adult now technically after all.

And as much as Grelle did seem level headed too about this, deep down she was in fact rather upset, and that feeling came out over the next few days as the reaper went to work herself and really got to see how things were on that side.

Ambrose was being handled like any other new recruit. At least it seemed like it. However, as many many reapers now knew of the famous demon from England Sebastian Michaelis, and somehow word had gotten out at some point that this was his son, the level of normalcy handling this particular new recruit was quickly lowered to vague stink eyes and thin lips, others keeping their distance as if this young man would lash out.

And of course, the older reapers like Mr. Spears were not really helping, considering he certainly had no soft spot for that demon nor any offspring of his.

Eventually, with Ronald Knox’s help, Grelle managed to get a moment alone with the familiar gloomy boy.

They had never been as close as Ambrose had been to Grelle’s wife; “Aunt Hannah”. But as Ambrose grew up, his maturity showed as he had learned to show her respect, seeming to.. understand where she came from with her own mental issues and suffering. Not to mention on occasion the two had gotten into fun little battles. Chainsaw vs rapier. It helped the youth get out the extra bit of aggression and anger he’d had no where else to put.

But this little reunion only ended up being a shouting match, as well as almost getting a bit too physical as Grelle found herself grabbing the boy by his crisp new white shirt lapels and asking him basically if he knew “how much he’d just screwed himself over.” And also “how dare he do this to his family, his older sibling precious Aarushi, his poor sweet dad Agni, and his long suffering mother Sebastian!”

This only ended with Ambrose locking up, face going neutral, newly emerald eyes going dull.

He wouldn’t take this, even if it was from his “Aunt”.

....

Time goes by. I really am not sure what kind of scythe to give Ambrose eventually, I feel that will be like the LAST thing I figure out as its one of the most difficult orz;;; As well as, on a lesser scale, his glasses. But I assume they’d just be basic black rectangle ones. A bit on the thin side.

And then eventually he gets picked on for his long-- and now getting messy from not being taken care of --white hair. Some are horrible insults, some warnings that are pretty valid about going out and reaping souls and making sure his hair isn’t in the way.

Eventually Ambrose resigns to wearing it up in a basic hair band. Nothing really special. He just.. doesn’t care.

He hasn’t been getting sleep. Which reapers apparently still need, and yet some tell him its pretty normal. Eventually he’ll learn to adapt. But for now, there are dark bags under his eyes...seeming permanently situated.

Finally, after what seems like a full year of this reaper business, Ambrose has another visitor.

His mind whirs with who. A human he knows like his dad somehow coming over? HE BETTER NOT BE A REAPER TOO. Or... or mum... No, he knows mum already tried. He KNOWS mum would fail every time, either by getting skewered by scythes or dragged away by someone who cares about the demon actually living.

It turns out to be Hannah.

And Ambrose... doesn’t know what to think. The first possible thing is.. is... HOW?? But then he remembers: VERY POWERFUL OLD MATRIARCH DEMON, so maybe it isn’t so strange for certain highly ranked demons to contact grim reapers???

But now the familiar voice of his aunt his speaking, addressing him in that quiet, deep voice he hasn’t heard in Gods know how long...

And the surge of emotional turmoil finally rears its ugly head, after so long being docile. He wants to break down sobbing. But there is a part of him fighting frantically to keep a serious, empty face on.

But then he sees. He finally notices...

Hannah Annafellows is crying.

Tears stream down her dark skin while she still smiles welcomingly to him. But her lips are trembling, and now he notices her hands in front of her, clasped together, are shaking as well. She is still in control, but also letting her sorrow and happiness show.

"I didn't think it was as terrible as Grelle made it out to be, and yet..." She chokes out, and then bites back from saying any more for a moment.

Ambrose wonders if.. she means the situation in general.. or his appearance, or...

“You.. You are so burdened with sadness. So much heavy sadness it covers you like a casing. And you are clearly torn up. And... and... oh, my little corvus...” She gets out, and her head slowly shakes a bit.

And now Ambrose is shattering. Why.. why does she have to explain? Why does she have to--

“You are trying...even now.. to hold on. I know this. But... you feel... deep down as if you’ve made a horrible mistake.”

Hannah’s voice went rapidly to a whisper at this. A fast, frantic whisper. As if she only had so much time now to get this out.

“And indeed, it is something irreversible, Ambrose. No power on Earth, nor any other realm can truly reverse death. Many have tried. For millions of years many have tried to. And keep trying to. I know this.”

Ambrose’s mouth started to part, but his aunt continued.

“But it was not a mistake you have made, Ambrose.... It will never be a mistake.”

The boy’s eyes widened, as Hannah shook her head again, and still smiled.

“It was simply an action you felt you needed to take at the time.... That is all. It was human nature. It always has been. And never a mistake. Not by someone like you, little one. Never someone like--”

“S-STOP IT! STOP IT HANNAH!” The boy suddenly screams. Then, quieter, with a cracked tone. “Stop... please.. stop.”

And now he’s just standing there, wiping tears and snot from his face after taking off his glasses, on the back of his jacket sleeve.

Hannah quietly steps closer then. Closer, and closer, as the boy hunches in...

And finally encircles him in her arms.

Hannah continues weeping too. They both do. While she practically tries to hold him as close as she can, without full on scooping him up like a babe once more. She rocks though. Rocking them both in place while she speaks soothing things now in demon. Her voice slower, and calmer. And her tone gentle and musical with the language of Hell that Ambrose knows himself so well...

He grew up with this. Many times he had to be soothed by songs and gentle words. Not only by Hannah, but...

Another sob wracks the boy.

He misses Mum. He misses mum. He can’t see mum. He CAN’T. But he misses mum...

He’s mumbling this outloud, brokenly.

....

Eventually things do calm. Eventually they can sit and talk lightly a bit.

And eventually Hannah also decided to grab a brush from thin air and brush the boy’s unruly long hair....

It’s a bit out of the blue... but it is another soothing act.

And when Hannah seems satisfied, instead of letting the boy return the simple hair band to it, she produces a pure black ribbon from thin air, and ties up his hair in that.

I got the idea for that with this picrew letting me put Ambrose’s hair in a ponytail with a black bow.

.........

Sooooo that’s mostly all I have for now on Reaper Ambrose!!! I.. feel bad about all the angst, I really do, but I love exploring this different take all the same! I hope you liked it too, dear!! 🖤🖤🖤 Thank you again for the ask!!! >w<

#answer #my oc #Ambrose #little raven #reaper ambrose au #tw suicide mention #stale--baguette

7 notes · View notes