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artxyra · 3 years ago

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Damian Acting Like A Teenager? Impossible.

When Damian entered the halls of Gotham Academy, the first thing he notices was the change in the dark atmosphere. It felt oddly kinder and more lighthearted. Everywhere he turns, there are whispers focus around the new girl. At first, he didn’t care about the gossip, well, that was until he met her.

It was an unusual encounter, something that he would look down on.

It was the passing period, and she was running down the halls in a hurry as he was walking to his next class, one that he didn’t particularly care for; they bump into each other, causing a standstill in the halls. Everyone wondered how the dark prince would react to their newly dubbed princess of sunshine. They expected a yelling match, which, of course, occurred, but what they didn’t expect was an eventual best of the worst of alliance ever made.

Several months passed since the two had met and several weeks since the blooming of Damian and Marinette’s friendship, and not a single student could say that there weren’t surprised.

The moment Marinette had broken down any (and all) walls that the boy had placed, she was able to make the stoic teen become his age. It started small with a joke here and there; then it progressed into card games followed by video games. To this day, Damian swears that he’ll beat her at a shooting game at one point, to which Marinette would respond with a laugh and an over-the-shoulder wink. The young Wayne swears that he has never blush a day in his life, but the photographic proof on Marinette’s phone says otherwise.

The school soon became accustomed to being Daminette’s playground. At first, the teachers were opposed to the idea, but after seeing how slightly more open Damian has become, they slowly agreed to the concept of allowing the duo to have less strict rules. That and they didn't want to be sued by the Wayne family.

Which now brings us to this moment: Marinette swings on a swing set while Damian practices his form with a katana; don’t ask how he managed to get it past security-- cause there is no answer.

“You know, maybe we should do something wild?” Marinette thinks aloud, looking up to the sky with a mischief smirk on her lips.

Damian doesn’t turn to her; he only sets the blade down to his side. “What mayhem do you have in mind?”

Marinette giggles uncontrollably.

Let’s assume that whatever Marinette had in mind would rule the yearbooks for years to come.

~☾★☽~

Since his partnership with Marinette, Damian has been hiding his characteristic change at home. Surprisingly, it was simple. A few death threats here and there, maybe sneaking out moments every so often. No one at the Wayne cared enough to pay any attention to it. It only then became a shock when Damian left for school along the lines of being late. Alfred had offered to take him to school to which Damian declined and got onto his “normal” motorcycle and speeds off.

“Does anyone else seem to think that Damian is acting strange?” Dick asks, pipping his head down from the ceiling. He’s on the chandelier again. Poor Alfred, maybe Dick should dust the chandelier for him as an apology.

Tim walks in with a large, filled to the brim, coffee mug in hand, “Which one?” He absently wonders, taking a long sip. The dark circles and bags around his eyes explain it all.

“I do concur with Master Richard; the young master has been acting somewhat strange for quite some time now.” Alfred appears out of nowhere, thus starting an array of concerns.

It wasn’t long before Jason came in shouting demands with the head of the household trailing behind him. Alfred reprimands Jason for the yelling as he hands Bruce a cup of coffee.

Not caring enough about the conversation and looking like a madman, Jason shouts, “Look, I can’t explain it, but we’re going to need Demon Spawn for something huge.”

“Uh, why would we need Baby Bird?” Dick asks, dropping onto the floor and twisting his body. “Not that I don’t mind getting Damian involved.”

“Look, there’s no time to explain,” Jason facepalms and begins to push everyone towards the door despite the lack of proper wear they have on.

After several protests and one change of clothes, the Wayne household now stands in front of the gates of Gotham Academy.

“Is it me, or does this place look less you know Gotham-y and full of life?” Tim ponders, narrowing his eyes, as he takes a long sip from a to-go coffee cup with Red Robin’s emblem.

“No, no, Timmy, I see it too.” Dick whispers as Jason struts past the gates and onto the school’s property like a man on a mission.

Bruce sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, “Come on, let’s go get your brother so Jason can stop being Jason.”

Tim shrugs before passing the gates himself, with Dick following him.

Upon entering the school, they could immediately see that it was either a passing period or free time from the number of students in the halls. Some student dared to pull out their phones while other whispers amongst themselves.

Bruce makes his way to the attendance office, where the attendance assistant, Joyce, resides sitting at the desk.

“Hello Joyce, I’m here to pick up Damian. He has a, uh, dentist appointment this evening.” Bruce speaks, hoping that she wouldn’t catch the lie.

“Well Mr. Wayne, Damian is, uh…” After lingering in her thoughts, Joyce turns to someone besides her. “Do you know where Damian Wayne would be at today?”

“Try the art room.” A feminine voice answers, followed by a series of typing noises.

Joyce turns back to the Wayne family and smiles, “He should be in the art room; it’s down the hall to your right, you should not miss it, as it’s in the only hallway that has a series of artwork posted on the walls. Before you go, please sign here."

Joyce hands Bruce a sign-out sheet, to which the man signs and ushers his wards to search for his youngest.

“They’re so screwed.” The same feminine voice speaks, causing Joyce to break out laughing.

It took a total of four different locations for the men to find the youngest Wayne.

First, they went to the art room like Joyce’s co-worker told them to do.

When they got there, Damian wasn't there, but the teacher did show Bruce a couple of Damian's artworks. Bruce couldn't help but feel proud.

While looking around the room, one of the art students told them they last saw Damian playing Pokémon Go near the gym; he was trying to catch a legendary Pokémon that spawned there.

So, of course, after an awkward eye contact with one another, they walk to the gym. Once again, Damian wasn’t there but a different student in his stead. He tells them that Damian was making ice sculptures out of ice cream at the cafeteria. The student then goes on to explain that Damian had some wicked skills with a knife.

Jason, with wide eyes, practically shouted at the student that he was crazy and that Damian would never, and he means NEVER would do something that stupid. The student shrugs it off like it was an everyday occurrence. It was Dick that had to hold Jason back from thrashing the teen. Bruce then apologizes to the instructor for their disturbance, as Tim walks casually behind Dick carrying Jason.

By the time they got to the cafeteria, it was damn near empty aside from a few students still eating. There were no signs of ice cream or the tools that would go into making an ice sculpture. Tim had to ask a few students to see if Damian was in here at some point in time. One of the workers overheard the question and answered him. Evidently, Damian was there earlier making sculptures out of ice cream before handing it out to students.

When they asked the question that has been slowly driving the four insane, the worker replies with: “Upstairs racing on these old colorful scooter board down the halls."

After three locations and no Damian, Tim wanted nothing more but to have a mental breakdown, and he would have if it wasn’t for Bruce holding him up and taking his coffee away.

So, they quickly found themselves on the second level of the school. There was no sight of Damian Wayne, though there were wheel tracks smudged into the flooring.

“Are you kidding me?” Jason shouts out into the ceiling. Thankfully, there were no students in the halls to hear it. Well, that might have been the case if it wasn’t for a teacher to open their door and shh the male. It took every bone in Jason's body not to show the teacher his middle finger.

After a beat of silence and walking down the hall, they overhear a familiar voice.

“Angel, you are desperately in the wrong here. The bear only wears one color, so it has to the color red.” Jason stops dead in his tracks and turns to railings.

The voice was too good to be true.

Looking over the staircase, they find an alcove, and sitting in it is none other than Damian Wayne himself, but he’s not alone.

“I’m telling you, Wayne. Pooh’s favorite color is yellow.” The female answers before taping her fingers as she makes her points, “He loves honey, which is by default a yellow color. He's never seen with a yellow background, and if yellow didn't clash with his fur, he would definitely be wearing it.”

“I disagree. Winnie the Pooh has been drawn on numerous of occasions with red items, not yellow. Case in point, the red balloon, his shirt." He counters. The conversation continues with banters and statements; whether it was true or false is up to debate.

This was not happening.

Tim.exe has stopped working.

Jason.exe has stopped working.

Jaws dropped, a low groaning sound.

They cannot be witnessing this. The most deadliest of the Wayne’s is currently arguing about Winnie, the motherfucking, Pooh’s favorite color.

Bruce has no words. He's practically in the same stance as his middle children. Dick, on the other hand, pulls out his phone and begins to record what remains of the conversation.

No one dares to move or utter out words. This version of Damian is the apocalypse. Nothing in the world is okay.

Slowly, the four Waynes exit the school; no one saw them leave.

Legend has it that Damian never went home that day despite being excused from his classes. When he had returned home, his family didn't utter a word to him. He was meet with either a profusely blinking, unwanted hug or laughter, as they were still in shock at what they just encountered. It wasn’t until a couple of months later that all hell breaks loose. Damian had introduced the family to Marinette.

----

A retouch version of Request #2

#maribat #mlb x dc #ml x dc #artxyra one-shots #daminette

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synthy-sizer · 2 years ago

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You turn back to your desk, once again opening your instant messenger. The ANGEL's strange chat logs are still open, but that isn't the only thing that catches your eye. Your FRIEND's messages are still unanswered from God knows how long ago. They probably deserve an answer as to what has been going on.

Talk to friend>

[Apotheosis91 is ONLINE]

Apotheosis91: Hey, I’m sorry I haven’t been on in a while

Apotheosis91: I actually don’t even know how long it’s been

Apotheosis91: Listen though, something amazing happened

Apotheosis91: An angel is in my room right now and it’s connected to everything in my room, it’s promising me that with its help we can actually find Eden

Apotheosis91: I’m still searching for hints, but I think the angel can help, and maybe that means we can both make it back to Eden

Apotheosis91: Hopefully you’re online again soon because this is huge

Apotheosis91: Back to it now though, I’ll talk to you again soon

[Apotheosis91 is OFFLINE]

You sigh and lean back in your desk chair. Although the update was necessary, the social interaction was still frustrating and tiring. But at least the weight is off your chest now, and you can focus on the more important conversation.

Talk to angel>

[App00thheeeeee is ON99dkkIINENE]

4poth91911: Hello? Are you there?

9000s0mmmmm: INDEED I AM, WORTHY ONE. WHAT WILL YOU ASK OF ME?

Ap3pp33mm: I’m unsure of where to look for clues, I can read the passage but I don’t know how to interpret that into a URLI can use.

OpDKMFMMM…\: WORRY NOT WORTHY ONE, ALTHOUGH I CANNOT PROVIDE YOU WITH DIRECT ANSWERS, I CAN GUIDE YOU ON THE CORRECT PATH. SIMPLY SEARCH WHERE YOU FEEL YOUR SOUL GUIDING YOU.

A99ik…-ppp: Alright, I’ll do my best. But I also have other questions.

8oooKIIIIIo: SIMPLY ASK WHATEVER YOU WISH OF ME

Amkkkkpp009919: I tried to speak to you earlier, but your body seemed completely unresponsive, but you talk to me just fine on here. Why is that?

Kkkrku22,,,: IT IS TRUE THAT THE FLESH IS MY BODY, YES, BUT MY ESSENCE EXISTS BEYOND ITS BOUNDS. BY CONNECTING TO YOUR INTERFACE, I HAVE EXTENDED MYSELF.

Aootppppret1199991: So you can see and hear me through my electronics?

99dkkk.,,,welol: INDEED. ALTHOUGH THE PRESENCE OF THEM IS AGAINST THE NATURE OF HEAVEN, BY USING IT AS A MEDIUM IT IS COMPATIBLE WITH MY SOUL.

002jiiiii2m2mm2m: IN ADDITION, THE MINDS OF MORTAL HUMANS CANNOT COMPREHEND THE ESSENCE OF AN ANGEL, WERE I TO USE MY TRUE VOICE YOU WOULD SUFFER GREATLY.

A00eppppp2p2p99911: Yeah, I wasn’t able to stay conscious when you appeared in your true form.

99(JJDJDMM: YOU ARE LUCKY TO HAVE DEVELOPED SUCH A ROBUST INTERFACE, IT GRANTS ME EASE IN COMMUNICATION AND ASSISTANCE.

00d90i;;/…: APOLLO COMPUTERS ARE ESPECIALLY IMPORTANT TO THIS PROCESS.

28hb’[‘[;kkk: BUT ENOUGH IDLE TALK, YOU MUST CONTINUE TO SEEK OUT EDEN. BY CONNECTING TO YOUR INTERFACE I HAVE AWAKENED ITS FULL POTENTIAL, AND MADE THINGS OUT OF REACH TO YOU ACCESSIBLE. RETURN TO PREVIOUS METHODS.

[../338nnnnmmll is O8rj.fflll/l/]

The angel hasn’t provided you with many direct answers, but you suppose that is the way with holy beings. As the guidebook says, God’s plan works in mysterious ways. At least it has provided some direction. Armed with the knowledge of Genesis, you can now seek answers through your equipment. You can search the INTERNET, use your RADIO, or tune for frequencies on your TELEVISIONS. And moreover, you feel as though perhaps you can finally understand the contents of your CASSETTES properly.

Use radio>

You once again place the headphones of your radio receiver on and confidently turn the device on, tuning frequencies. You are once again greeted by a blend of static and faint voices and music from an endless array of broadcasts, but you’re more than familiar with what you’re looking for. Eventually, after what seems like an eternity, a particularly clear signal comes through. It doesn’t sound like much at first, just white noise, but you notice the unmistakable sound of wind, and the rustling of trees. You can even make out the sound of crashing waves. It’s a soundscape that would otherwise be mundane, but to you it somehow sounds significant. You wonder why.

Use televisions>

You stand up from your desk, walking carefully across the many cables covering the floor, and make your way to your primary receiver. Adjusting the frequency, you watch as the static morphs and bends, and faint views of various broadcasts flicker in and out. But much like the radio, something comes through. A clear image, so clear it feels as though the television screen is just a window, you can see the view of a field. There’s tall, lush grass, a single tree on a hill to the right, and a noticeable stone covered in moss to the left. The entire view is ethereal, but peaceful. You catch yourself touching the screen, as if trying to reach into the field, but only find glass. And just like the radio, you can hear the crashing of waves. You feel certain now more than ever that this is significant, although you can’t figure out how.

Use cassettes>

You walk back across the room, leaning over and opening your bedside table once more, looking at your cassettes. Of course, how could you have been so blind? An angel has been trying to help you this entire time. Clearly, when you cannot understand the clues you’ve found, you should listen to what it has been telling you the entire time. All you have to do is pick up your CASSETTE PLAYER and CASSETTES and LISTEN.

Take cassette player>

You pick up the Marantz in one hand.

[Retrieved CASSETTE PLAYER]

Pick up cassettes>

You grab a stack of tapes in your other hand.

[Retrieved CASSETTE TAPES]

Listen>

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desdemonafictional · 3 years ago

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Jazz/Tarantulas “You are the reason why I can’t be happy.” :3c

(YOU,,)

Jazz had always been afraid of the day that he would be matched up against some lobbyist or foreign dignitary in a marriage sale. His reckless bohemian lifestyle so far existed--could exist--only in the cracks of society, because he had no progenitors to monitor him or family to restrain him. He was only answerable to the Primacy, which had taken responsibility for him by right on the day that his entire circle of kin was executed. He couldn't miss them. He'd never known them. He'd lived three vorns now in a kind of frantic fearful joy, knowing that in that moment he was freer than any living Cybertronian, and yet that all of it could and would be taken from him at the first whim of his surrogate, who had never shown any interest in being a parent to him.

He'd spent more meaningful time with Prowl, who worked grimly and without complaint under Sentinel's thumb, than he had with Sentinel Prime himself. There wouldn't be any warm familial sentiment when it came time to arrange his bonding.

He'd always expected his happiness to end with a hell of shackled marital drudgery. He had not expected it to end with literal imprisonment in a glass case.

"It's all entirely above board," Tarantulas said to him, "the paperwork is all there. And you are a ward of the state, after all, so the state has the right to give you over into my doting hands."

"Doting," repeated Jazz, from inside the glass tube.

"Oh yes," Tarantulas said. "I'm going to take wonderful care of you."

Jazz had already tried every trick he could think of within the first five minutes of finding himself trapped in a glass cylinder in a laboratory full of gruesome partially dissected specimens. The shape of his new conjunx, illuminated in the green glow of the projection screen, had not even turned back to look at him since ascending the stairs up to the control board.

Hands pressed to the glass, Jazz swallowed down panic. He knew of the mad scientist who made his nest in the ruins beyond the outer reaches of Iacon. A name on redacted files, a ghost story on the edge of town. A brittle thinness to Prowl's mouth.

"This is so exciting!" Several legs skittered over a host of buttons. "Here's what you're going to look like," Tarantulas said, and the projection resolved into a detailed schematic of someone who bore a faint resemblance to Jazz. The visor was there, and some of the same proportions. But the paws and haunches, the trailing tail... alien, all of it, full of textures and hair and teeth that didn't belong on a body.

"You're gonna make me something like you," Jazz concluded. There was dread swimming in the pit of his spark, but he did his best to ignore it. "A monster."

"A perfect mate," Tarantulas agreed, with a happy sigh. "I took my inspiration from the Sol-3 mongoose, it's a delightful little creature, deceptively fearsome. Poison resistant. Adorable. A perfect frame for my perfect conjunx."

Jazz swallowed thickly. "Sounds more like a pet."

"Hmm?" at last Tarantulas turned back to him, the array of his endless green eyes blinking at Jazz. "Oh no," he said, "I wouldn't make a perfect being just to lock him in a box! Anyway, Prowl told me what a free spirit you are. I'm trying to give shape to your nature, not change it!"

"Prowl?" Jazz repeated. His helm went under in white noise. "Prowl told you..."

"Naturally! The marriage was his arangement, after all."

A deep part of Jazz that he hadn't even known he had went crack along an invisible fault line, with a pain as bad as any physical pain he'd ever felt. "Prowl?" he said. "Prowl gave me--prowl put me here?"

"I told him I was in the market for a conjunx," Tarantulas replied, "I was hoping he'd take the bait--I've been wanting to swoop him up out of Sentinel's hands for eons, he's just terribly wasted up there. But he mentioned you, and, ah! I've always had such a weakness for scavenged diamonds among the rubble..."

Had Prowl thrown Jazz at Tarantulas like so much scrap metal at a tide of scraplets? Jazz, who had respected him--looked up to him--cared for him, even--

"He gave me up?" Jazz whispered. "Just to save himself...?"

Tarantulas tsked. "You act as if this is some terrible cage!" He turned from his screens and spread his many legs, as if to encompass the entire lair and all within it. "My darling bride, this is your liberty! Independence from Sentinel, from the Primacy, from the very laws of society!"

He came over to the edge of the railing, leaned out over the empty space between his platform and Jazz's tube. He glowed in the uncanny light of the projection screen, huge and strange and unlike anything Jazz had ever known.

"My darling," he coaxed, "my darling.... I am about to set you free!"

#I call this one Bride of Frankenstein #transformers #maccadam #BOTH of these characters are impossible to tag for lmao

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valhahazred · 4 years ago

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Cryptid Mythos bonus! Everything that appears on this sheet is an entity reported by real people. Why no Mythos this time? Because these encounters are so strange in appearance or behavior that they could slip right into the Sothic multiverse with little to no alteration or alternative explanation. Good luck Investigators!

All Colours Sam In 1973, in the town of Sandown, 7 year old “Fay” and an unnamed friend encountered a very strange individual as they explored the fringes of a golf course. They first became aware of something weird going on when they heard a sound like an ambulance siren in the distance. Following the sound to a footbridge over a creek, the two children were confronted by a three fingered hand wearing a blue glove that beckoned them from beneath the bridge. Awaiting them was a seven foot humanoid figure wearing strange clownish clothing, seemingly reinforced with wooden slats that protruded from his sleeves and pant-legs. The figure had a book in his hands, which he immediately fumbled and dropped in the water. He splashed around cartoonishly before recovering his book, leaping out of the creek and away from the children. He moved to a small metal shed with a high-kneed hopping gait and disappeared inside. The children went to leave, only for the mysterious entity to exit again with a microphone that appeared to be the source of the wailing that drew the children in the first place. It spoke into the microphone in a friendly, non-threatening tone. “Are you still here?” The children were curious and unafraid, so they moved towards him. He held up his book and pointed at the words in order to introduce himself. “Hello and I am all colours, Sam”. They asked if he was human and he said no and when asked if he was a ghost he replied, “well, not really but I am in an odd sort of way.” The children asked what he was then and he simply said, “You know.” During their conversation with the entity they learned that although he went by Sam, he didn’t really have a name, he claimed that there were others like him and that he was afraid of humans and that he was a pacifist, refusing to harm others even if they should attack him. He invited them into his hut, where he shared some wildberries and showed them a magic trick, where he placed a berry into his ear and seemingly teleported it to his mask’s eyehole and then to his mouth with quick jerks of his head. They continued to converse for almost an hour before the children decided to leave. Was he an alien in a make-do disguise? An animated scarecrow? A figment of childish imaginations? Or just a strange homeless man dressed like a clown? Whatever the truth, All Colours Sam, also known as the Sandown Ghost Clown, was never seen again. The Crazy Critter of Bald Mountain This weird looking creature was sighted by three people in the week following a fiery object that passed over the Bald Mountain near Newaukum Lake in Washington. When the local Sheriff began an investigation into the sighting he was visited by heavily armed and uniformed men who claimed to be from the Air Force and forced him to give up the case. Old Saybrook Blockheads Mary Starr was awoken in the early morning on December 16, 1957 by a bright light shining into her bedroom. She looked out the window to witness a 30 foot cigar shaped craft hovering over her yard, less than 10 feet from her house! Inside the apparent spaceship she witnessed a pair of small creatures with fleshy skirts and clear cubic “heads” containing a floating red bulb. They raised their right arms and as a third entity appeared in the portholes the ship brightened before shooting off into the sky. Space Brains of Palos Verdes As John Hodges and Pete Rodriguez were leaving a party at two in the morning they were not expecting to meet anything from out of this world but as the car turned on its headlights illuminated two bizarre entities! The men panicked and drove away, ending the story for Rodriguez as he made it home with no complications. However, in Hodges case he next became aware of himself two and a half hours later in the driveway of his home, sitting in the car as if in a trance. Troubled by the missing time, he eventually went for hypnosis in an attempt to recover his memories of the night. While under regression he claimed that while he got his friend home safely, when he returned to his own residence the disembodied brains were waiting for him! He asked them what they wanted and suddenly he was elsewhere, in a dark room with entities that looked like the classic Greys but very tall and with webbed six fingered hands and yellow eyes. They explained that the brains were “merely translators” used in order for these beings to interface telepathically with humans. He claimed they warned him that Earth had “too much power” and showed him a map of the planet covered in lights that indicated places where humans might destroy themselves. They showed him images of dead planets and made several inaccurate prophecies before he suddenly found himself back in his car. Unlike many other abductees with similar experiences Hodges did not try to make excuses for their bunk predictions or feel like it made him important in any way. He simply assumed the aliens were untrustworthy and were playing with him. The Casa Blanca Entities This is one of the strangest and most confusing accounts of a Close Encounter of the Fifth kind, as eight children ranging from the ages of four to fifteen were terrorized by a parade of extraterrestrial monsters one summer day in 1955. It started with an array of UFOs, sun-like, disk-shaped and semi-transparent, appearing and disappearing with musical pings. Then came the entities. First was a ghostly being bearing a shiny belt buckle that was so brilliant it could blind someone looking straight at it. It was followed by disembodied arms in riveted armor that seemed to beckon to the children, small strange men that used dual ray guns to paralyze and finally a many limbed creature. All through this strange arrival something spoke to the children telepathically, offering to take them away. The kids they spoke to often seemed to be entranced, moving to the dancing UFOs mindlessly and required physical force or even being hosed down to snap them out. One child even fell off a roof in an attempt to reach a UFO, only to be protected by a red force field. The weirdest part of all is that not only did adults not see anything, they couldn’t. Despite being present for the event a mother of one of the children was unaware of the paranormal happenings. Does this mean it was all in the children’s heads, as they were overtaken by some kind of playground hysteria? Or is there some alien force that not only wants our children but can make themselves invisible to undesirable observers. The Garson Invaders In 1954 three of these insectoid entities appeared to Canadian miner Ennio La Sarza. Their appearance was already exceptional by the usual standards of reported alien contact but in a particularly striking detail their faces appeared to glow in colours La Sarza had never seen before! The beings asked La Sarza to do something for them but he refused, not only to do it but to even speak of it. It was so awful and “outright apocalyptic” that he even considered asking the RCMP to lock him up in case the creatures he’d met had some way to enforce his cooperation. The Poole Pyramid This multi-hued metallic pyramid appeared in 1965 to seven year old Terrence Druce of Poole in Dorset when he awoke to it hovering over the foot of his bed. He shrieked in terror, waking his younger brother in time for him to also witness it as it faded into thin air. That encounter might have never been recorded if the brothers hadn’t seen it again the very next day, lurking in a parking lot. They said it seemed aware of their presence and turned to watch them but it did not follow them when they decided to flee the scene. Delta Dogs An anonymous woman was driving through a snowstorm on route 07 through Syracuse in January 1958. She came across what at first seemed to be a downed plane but as she approached her engine slowly ran itself down and the car stopped itself. As she desperately tried to restart the car the snowstorm calmed and more details became apparent. Projecting out of the large object she’d thought was a plane crash was a 50 foot illuminated pole. Two strange beings rose up along the pole, floating by it as it started to retract. When the pole finished sinking into the object the creatures disappeared and the craft took off so fast she couldn’t make out where it went. The Electric Serpent of Tacoma This is easily the most unusual sighting of a sea creature that I’ve ever heard of. Seven men camping on the shore of Black Fish Bay in 1893 encountered a sea monster that appeared to be cybernetic, if not entirely biomechanical! Disturbed by a horrible noise and blinding lights the men left their camp to find a huge, hairy walrus-like animal with steaming horns, bands of coppery metal and a revolving propeller-like tail! One of the men approached it to get a better look, only to be struck by an electric blast from its copper bands and fell to the ground as if dead. When one of his friends tried to pull him to safety, he was likewise shocked by the impossible animal. The other men fled into the woods after seeing two of their number seemingly killed and the Electric Serpent seemed to lose interest and swam out into Puget Sound. Once they were sure it was gone the remaining men returned to the beach and were elated to find their friends burned and stunned but still very much alive! So what happened? Was it just one of the sadly common newspaper hoaxes of the time? Or did a bunch of 19th century fishermen find a literal fucking pokemon? You decide! Stickmen The Stickmen are an extremely recent phenomenon, with reports starting within the last 10 years or so. They are described as being stick thin and roughly humanoid, sometimes with bubble heads, glowing eyespots or even top hats. They range in size from human-like to towering in excess of 20 feet. What is most interesting about them is their apparent two dimensionality, sometimes appearing the same no matter what angle they are viewed at and sometimes being able to turn to the side and vanish as though they were never there. They are also frequently reported as being accompanied by a feeling like static electricity and of aggression or hostility. Despite those impressions the Stickmen do not appear to be hostile, instead seeming surprised and immediately retreating from a witness.

#call of cthulhu #cthulhu mythos #cryptids #eldritch #aliens #monsters #sandown ghost clown #all colours sam #The crazy critter of bald mountain #Old Saybrook Blockheads #Space Brains of Palos Verdes #The Casa Blanca Entities #The Garson Invaders #The Poole Pyramid #Delta Dogs #The Electric Serpent of Tacoma #Stickmen #my art #cryptid mythos

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severelybabykryptonite · 4 years ago

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Spellbound (A Richonne Magical Moment)

A/N: For the Richonnefics October Word Table. Yes, I’m totally late but better late than never right? I hope you enjoy.

The cobbled street was busy with activity as excited shoppers moved from vendor to vendor, perusing the different and unique wares, crafts, arts, and designs. The newly organized trade market was off to a grand start and one particular shopper could not be prouder. She is the one who pushed her friends towards entrepreneurship, knowing that the items she usually received for free would be a huge draw for a lot of customers. She looks around with a knowing smile, imagining what the success could possibly lead to. Even the nearby bakery, diner, and bookstore were getting more business.

She steps to a vendor she doesn’t recognize with an array of beautiful handmade scarves. She is a sucker for silky, smooth material to wrap herself in. She touches a sheer, teal colored scarf, allowing the material to slide over her open hand. She gasps as a tingling sensation starts from the top of her head and races down her body, leaving her slightly shaken. She blinks several times and places a hand to her stomach to calm herself. She looks to her left and then to her right, wondering what could have caused such a sudden and never before experienced reaction.

A spirited laugh rings out and the sensation returns eliciting another gasp as she swings around, searching for the source of the laughter. Her eyes roam the square and she hones in as the laugh sounds again. This time, lighter but drawing her in all the same. She spots a dark haired gentleman seated at a table on the cemented walk right outside the eatery. He is accompanied by three others and they are all dressed in law enforcement uniforms.

She tilts her head out of curiosity and focuses on the man who drew her attention. She searches the people around her, ensuring that no one is watching then draws a deep breath and attempts to delve into his mind to find out who he is. Her concentration falters as she encounters a wall of forbidding black. She scoffs and shakes her head, readjusting her focus. Her second attempt is a failure as well and now her heart begins to race. She swallows deeply as her nerves start to fray. What the hell? She has always been able to read people, young, old, male, female so why couldn’t she divulge anything from this guy? He drew her attention for a reason and now there is some sort of block? She panics and wonders if her magic is starting to fade.

She quickly turns her attention to the guy seated next to him and offers an audible sigh of relief as he is an open book, full of color and laughter. For good measure, she delves into the mind of another gentleman at the table and quickly pushes his thoughts away. He was vividly recalling his passionate night before with a woman he’d met at a bar. She gives herself a shuddering shake to dispel the images she grasped.

She starts to relax, realizing that her gift is as prevalent as ever but can’t help the worry that eases in as her eyes travel back to the guy with the nice laugh. She suddenly remembers her surroundings and tries to return to the scarves she was admiring moments before. Curiosity gets the best of her so she concentrates on the guy once again. She lets out a groan of frustration as the forbidding black wall reappears. This is a first for her and she doesn’t understand what is happening. Who is he?

She grabs a couple of scarves and asks the vendor, “How much?” She pulls several bills from her wallet, utters, “Keep the change,” and starts to make her way towards the parking area. She looks back at the table to see the gentlemen preparing to leave. She is tempted to try one last time but before she can even blink or think, a pair of bright blue eyes lock in on her worried brown ones and the world around her disappears. The tingling sensation envelopes her body once again and tiny flutters dance in her abdomen. He smiles and she turns her head, confused by her reaction. This guy is dangerous. She increases her pace, seeking out her car as a welcome place of refuge.

She struggles with what to do as part of her wants to return to the square and ask this guy who he is while the other part of her is saying to get as far away as possible. The latter wins out as she starts her vehicle and steers it toward the shelter of her home.

XXXXXXXXXX

“Rick you coming?”

The voice of his partner draws him back to the task at hand as he returns his attention to their table and his deputy’s hat resting on it. He places the hat on his head and looks back at the spot the beautiful woman just vacated. His eyes instinctively search for her but he realizes she is gone and decides to forget about the hairs raising on his arms when his eyes connected with hers. It was a strange sensation, one he’d never quite experienced before but the feeling was gone and she was gone so he left his thoughts there at the eatery.

He laughs as Shane pats him on the back with a smile and the four of them move off to their squad cars.

Later that night, long after his shift ends, he is in bed tossing and turning and muttering in his sleep as the brown eyed beauty visits him in his dreams. She is a vision of pure perfection as she appears to float towards him, wearing a sheer flowing gown. He drops his eyes to her chest expecting to be pleasantly surprised by a pair of ample breasts. To his disappointment, he can’t make anything out even as his eyes drop lower. She smiles when he meets her gaze again, almost as if she knows exactly what he is thinking. Who are you? Desperation rises in him as he awaits her answer. Instead she approaches him and he has to look up to see her face. She circles him, her hand stretching forward but there is no connection. His eyes follow her, afraid to miss a moment. Tell me please. She reaches for his face and leans in to kiss him. His anticipation and desire rush to the forefront and he lifts himself higher in an effort to reach her. Just when her lips were about to touch his, a blaring beeping noise sounds, pulling him from his slumber.

He slaps a hand onto the dismiss button of the annoying alarm clock and sighs heavily as he looks up to the ceiling, questioning his dreams. He has to know who this woman is. He won’t rest until he has some answers.

Meanwhile, the woman in question is tossing and turning in her sleep. She sits up with a gasp and reaches for her bedside lamp. The light reveals the calmness and emptiness of her room and a frustrated groan escapes her as she recalls her dream. Those blue eyes and dark hair reappeared in her subconscious and now she can’t help but worry even more. She thought she could forget what happened today but that is not the case. She realizes who she has to talk to and makes plans to leave first thing in the morning.

XXXXXXXXXX

Her grandmother opens the door with a tsk. “What’s got you so spooked? Dark circles under your eyes…..not a good look Mimi.”

“Something’s happening,” Michonne relays. “I just don’t know what.”

“Well come on in and tell Gma all about it,” her grandmother offers.

Once they’re inside and seated, Michonne starts to relay the event from yesterday. “I was at the market and I got this funny feeling.” She realizes she has to downplay it as her grandmother loves to get dramatic. “There was….there was this guy and he looked at me and I got that feeling again so…..”

“Well dang you ever heard of attraction?”

Michonne rolls her eyes then takes a deep breath and rushes out, “I couldn’t read him.”

The eyebrows on her grandmother’s forehead lift with curiosity as she whispers, “What?”

“I said I couldn’t read him. I tried more than once but it was like there was some sort of block or something.” She looks directly into her grandmother’s eyes. “I thought I had lost it but I could read the other men he was seated with. So it’s just…..him.”

Her grandmother nods her head thoughtfully. “Are you dreaming about him?”

The panic in her granddaughter’s eyes answers that question.

“Does it mean something?” MIchonne asks anxiously.

“Well it could but this has never happened before.” Gma answers. “Not in my lifetime.”

“What hasn’t?”

“The bonding. Our history tells of a man and woman connected throughout time, living in different worlds but always connecting. They somehow find each other and….”

“Let me stop you there. This is not a harlequin romance,” Michonne interrupts.

Her grandmother gives her an exasperated look and says, “Do I look like I’m making this up?”

“No but….it just doesn’t make sense. I wasn’t able to read him and….”

“Maybe that’s why. He’s your soulmate and you won’t be able to manipulate him like you can others,” Gma relays.

“I don’t manipulate people. I’ve never used my gift to harm anyone,” Michonne states.

“I know but maybe this is the universe telling you this is what you need from the man you’ll fall for.”

Gma watches her granddaughter absorb that information then turn nervous eyes to her.

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Beats me,” Gma says as she shrugs her shoulders. “Was he cute?”

“That has nothing to do with it.”

“I’ll take that as a yes and seeing how spooked you are, I’d wager he’s a fine specimen of a man.” Her grandmother gives her a knowing look. “Girl, you are in trouble.”

Michonne spends the remainder of the day with her grandmother, perusing through the giant books of lore about her family and others with special gifts. There was only a small paragraph about bonding and it was exactly what her grandmother had already told her. It was clear there hadn’t been many occurrences of this so called bonding so Michonne decided she wasn’t going to worry about it. At least, she was going to try not to. She knew there was hardly any chance of her seeing this gentleman again and she was obviously overreacting. Right?

She gives her grandmother a hug and a kiss and promises to visit again soon before she walks to her car and drives away.

The next week passes by in a blur but Michonne continues to dream of the dark haired guy. The dreams were like watching a new movie each night. It was him. Always him but the time era was different for each encounter. The one thing she can’t brush off is that each and every time, she saw herself with him. They were deeply in love and no matter the time or place, it was him and it was her….together.

XXXXXXXXXX

Rick sat at his desk, images of the brown eyed woman bombarding his every waking moment. He can’t stop thinking about her or dreaming about her. He has to know who she is and he has to know now. He realizes his only recourse is to return to the restaurant where he saw her before. He knows there is a slim chance he will see her again, but he has to try something. Otherwise, he might go crazy.

He was too preoccupied to invite Shane so he ventures to the restaurant alone. He seats himself at the same table, checks his watch to ensure that he was there at the precise time he saw her before, and settles in to wait patiently. He looks around and notices the same vendors as before and hopes fervently that she shows up. Surely there is an explanation as to why she has been appearing in his dreams each and every night since he saw her. He needs to know what’s going on.

He is startled as a slight wind ruffles his hair and a soft gasp seems to caress his ear. He looks up and sees the woman from his dreams standing several feet away from him. She seems to be rooted to the spot she was standing in, staring at him as if she couldn’t believe he was there.

He immediately realizes there was no way he could have heard her gasp from where she was standing but he can’t deny what he heard. He lifts himself from his chair, carrying his sheriff’s hat in his hand, and starts to walk towards her.

Michonne is telling herself to turn and walk away but finds she can’t. The man she thought she’d never see again is making his way directly to her and she couldn’t tear her eyes away. She takes him all in as he runs a hand through his hair before placing the wide brimmed hat on his head. He stops in front of her and gives her a shy smile.

He searches her soft brown eyes before greeting her quietly, “Hey.”

“Hi.”

His eyes drop to her lips. “Would you like to get a cup of coffee?”

She can’t read him but she knows they almost kiss each and every night in her dreams. She hones in on her feelings of anticipation and desire, her heart racing like never before. On impulse, she steps to him and places her lips on his.

The shock of kissing a stranger or being kissed by one never registers for either of them. His hands go to her waist and he pulls her closer, deepening their connection. Suddenly, there is a burst of light behind their eyes and a merging of their deepest desires, their dreams, their wants, their needs. He opens up to her like a book waiting to be read and she drinks him in all the while pouring out what she knows and feels into him.

All too soon the kiss ends and they stand on the cobbled street, resting their foreheads together. He swallows nervously, trying his best not to be intimidated by everything that just happened. Her heart is near to bursting, she is so happy to know who he is. He is definitely her soulmate and Gma was right about the bonding. She can feel the questions bubbling up inside of him as he is unaware of any family history that involves magic.

She takes his hand in hers and tells him, “I will answer anything you ask but we can’t do it here.” She leads him to her car. “I can take you to my grandmother. She’ll know more about this than I can tell you.”

He searches her eyes again. “Tomorrow. Can we see your grandmother tomorrow? Right now, I just want to catch up with you. It’s been centuries.”

She smiles widely and leans in to kiss him once again.

#Richonne #Richonnefics #richonnemagic #fanfiction #sbk

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scope-dogg · 4 years ago

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Brain Powerd: Final Thoughts (No, that’s not a typo)

I went into this with only vague ideas of what to expect. This is one of Tomino’s less-known and discussed anime series despite it having a really unique concept and a dream team production staff - Mamoru Nagano teams back up to do mechanical design, and Yoko Kanno contributes another standout soundtrack having just done the same for Escaflowne and Macross Plus. In fact, the whole thing has a very similar feeling vibe to Turn A Gundam, which is something else Tomino and Yoko Kanno would team up on after this - additionally, the two shows share much of the same voice cast and the art and animation style is also noticeably similar. Yet this doesn’t enjoy the same fame and acclaim of Turn A - there isn’t that much discussion about this show out there and the review scores I’ve seen are middling.

I can see why that is - this is definitely a show with flaws that came out at the wrong time - the show has a lot of curious parallels and similarities with Evangelion, which came out shortly beforehand, and despite those similarities allegedly being an unfortunate coincidence and not intentional, Brain Powerd gets written off as a knock-off of Eva by many. However, despite the fact that I think Eva is a better show than Brain Powerd in most ways, Brain Powerd is definitely not a knock-off - the tone of the two shows is entirely different, and Brain Powerd has plenty of its own unique aspects that are worthy of more attention. It’s probably the most heavily Tomino-flavoured Tomino series that I’ve seen - whether it’s the things it does right or the things it does wrong, it all carries the distinct hallmarks of that same legendary but polarising director.

The plot setup is that in the future, much of the planet is wracked by natural disasters, and the future looks bleak for humanity. Amidst this, an enormous and ancient alien spacecraft called Orphan awakens from its slumber in the abyss of the oceans. There are those called Reclaimers who think that Orphan is the key to humanity’s survival, and seek to fully awaken it and use it to allow mankind to escape the stricken Earth and roam the galaxy, whereas others believe it must be stopped at any cost. Part of Orphan’s activity is to disperse strange discs spawned by Orphan called Plates, which can revive into giant humanoid biomechanical lifeforms called Antibodies that are sentient but achieve their full potential via symbiosis with a human pilot. There are two kinds of Antibodies - the Grand Chers, which the Reclaimers exploit to their own ends, and Brain Powereds, which they seek to destroy wherever they can be found. Yuu Isami is the son of the scientists who lead the Reclaimers, and a Grand Cher pilot, who is one day sent on a mission to retrieve Plates and has a chance encounter with an orphan girl called Hime, who forms a bond with a Brain Powered that has just revived from a Plate. Forced to retreat, Yuu reassesses the cause he is serving, and upon learning the horrible truth - that when Orphan leaves Earth, it will result in the death of all life on the planet - he frees a captive Brain Powered and makes his escape, and vows to put a stop to the Reclaimers’ plans. This eventually brings him into contact with the Novis Noa, an arc ship commissioned by the UN with the aim of protecting humanity from Orphan’s devastation, where Hime and her Brain Powerd now reside.

The similarities with Eva are easy to see - a ruined world thanks to the presence of extraterrestrials, mecha that are alive, and a son at odds with amoral scientist parents, but at no point does it ever feel like it’s ripping anything off - it’s presented in its own way, it’s a different kind of story and has its own distinct identity despite the obvious parallels. I think it’s one of the shows’ greatest strengths, but it’s also potentially a major weakness, because it can be incredibly convoluted and unfocused at times. In fact, I suspect that a lot of the lukewarm reviews this show has are because people bounce off the early part of it, not without good reason - everything I described in the paragraph above this one happens in the space of about two episodes with a huge one-year timeskip in between, and it dumps a lot of concepts, characters and plot points on you way quicker than it probably should. There’s a lot of buzzwords and concepts to latch on to - B-Plates, Antibodies, Grand Chers, Brain Powereds, the Vital Globe, Chakra, and so on and so forth. Honestly there’s some I’m not entirely sure about - if I ever got a satisfactory answer to what a B-Plate is exactly I don’t remember. The plot is also kind of meandering for a good few episodes after its opening and can’t seem to decide where to go - to me it kind of seemed like it had its runtime or episode count altered at the last minute and rearrangements had to be made, which weren’t made well.

However, things do eventually seem to click into place at around episode 10, and the story starts to array itself in a more focused and engaging manner. It’s still not perfect - there are still occasionally things that it can’t make up its mind on and some other aspects that get settled too abruptly, but it’s still enough to justify you to continue watching. Even though it dumps a lot on you, it also holds enough back to keep you watching - the true nature of the Antibodies and of Orphan being the main factor in that - you get left with questions right up until the very end of the final episode.

There’s also quite a lot going on with the show’s characters. The show’s main running them on that front is the troubled familial relationships that most if not all of the main cast have, to the point where it can get genuinely Freudian at times. The ways the characters talk and act tends to be very odd in that uniquely Tomino way, which is probably another factor in people bouncing off the show, but if you’ve seen pretty much any other Tomino show and enjoyed it you’ve probably already either inoculated yourself against it or even acquired the taste for it. The tone that’s set gets quite serious, as the fate of the world is at stake, and that gets amplified by all the character drama, but it also has just the right amount of humour and lighthearted moments to relieve the pressure but not enough to descend into farce.

I’d say the strongest unique selling point the show has are the antibodies themselves, both Brain Powereds and Grand Chers. Both are very distinctly designed by Mamoru Nagano - the thin waists, large heads and feet and pointy protrusions give them away on that front - they bear something of a resemblance to the Gothicmades from Nagano’s Five Star Stories manga. Otherwise there’s not a whole lot out there that’s quite like them - I think Evangelion comparisons fall down here especially hard, as while the Eva units were more purely biotic, only wearing metal armour as a facade, the Brains and Grand Chers are purely biomechanical, their bodies made up in a way that blurs the line between living tissue and mechanical construction. The purpose for making them living things is also entirely different - the Eva units being living things made them more offputting and frightening, whereas in Brain Powerd it’s done to make them more human and relatable - at times they’re even cute. Sentient mecha isn’t a first, obviously Braves and Transformers built their franchises upon that concept, but Brain Powerd is different - they’re capable of taking some limited action on their own, but are at their best when working with a human pilot. They have a limited grasp of language, being able to sometimes flash words on the display screens in their cockpits and seeming to understand most human speech, but otherwise they’re limited to communicated by their mannerisms and making noise - the best way to think about them is almost like they’re large, very intelligent and human-shaped horses. It’s as strange as it sounds, and they remain mysterious and alien throughout, but never in a way that’s threatening or frightening. Well, at least that’s true for the Brains, the Grand Chers are definitely a little scarier in both appearance and behaviour to go with their role as the antagonist mecha, but even they get to show a bit of a softer side as the series progresses. Overall, this is definitely the most interesting thing that the show does and probably it’s biggest selling point.

All of this wrapped up in a presentation that I’d say is pretty good on balance. The animation is just okay by the standards of the time, there’s a fair amount of reused animation and some choppy bits, but it never gets outright bad, though it’s never amazing either. That’s made up for by a pretty solid visual direction and by Yoko Kanno, who knocks the soundtrack out of the park once again - it gives the series a hell of a lot of soul. I don’t think the soundtrack is quite as good as Turn A Gundam or Escaflowne, but it’s still in the same ballpark for sure.

On the whole, this series made a really strong impression on me despite being far from perfect, and I think it deserves more attention. I wouldn’t recommend it as anyone’s first mecha anime, or even anyone’s first Tomino anime - it’s probably better to cut your teeth on something like Turn A or Dunbine first to acclimate yourself to his style of storytelling, but if you like what you see in his other works, definitely come and check this one out. I don’t think there’s a guarantee that you’ll like it, but you may just love it.

#brain powerd #mecha #respect the robot

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hyperactivepuppy · 4 years ago

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Parties Are The Worst - Chapter 1

New fic! I found this partially written story in my google docs from months ago and thought some of you might enjoy it. ^.^ I had way too much fun writing all of the students being crazy XD.

Summary: Todoroki gets dragged to a party at Kirishima and Bakugo’s new apartment, but turns out his tolerance for alcohol is not as high as he thought... **Note—this is set when all of the students are in their early 20s, so there is no underage drinking :).

Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28635390/chapters/70190049

~*~

Parties were the worst. They were loud, confusing, and extremely overwhelming. Why on earth would anyone choose to attend such an event?

Todoroki had been wondering this for the past hour, tucked away in the furthest corner of the room to try and escape the noise.

When Kirishima had gleefully announced the event that Monday, he immediately declined. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Kirishima—he just didn’t want to spend an evening crammed in with a bunch of hyped up 20-year-olds. Then Midoriya came along with his wide, innocent, puppy eyes and somehow managed to change his mind.

So here he was, trapped at Kirishima’s apartment while the entire class of 1A shrieked and danced. Someone had dragged all of the couch cushions onto the floor and Mina and Sero were diving off the wooden frame into a mound of pillows. Loud, obnoxious music boomed through the room and Kaminari was screaming along with the lyrics in a horrible attempt at karaoke.

Todoroki wanted to leave. The whole atmosphere was just too much. It was too loud—too overwhelming. And to make it all worse, he didn’t even have Midoriya there to help ground him. Honestly, he wouldn’t even be there if Midoriya hadn’t asked him so sweetly the day before. He’d promised to stay with him all evening and said they could sit in the corner and talk. But Kaminari somehow managed to burn all the frozen pizzas and both Midoriya and Yaoyorozu had gone to the store to buy more.

So now he was alone—anxious, tired, and with no escape. His head was starting to ache from the constant chatter, making him even less tolerant of the chaotic environment.

Sighing, he pushed away from the wall and headed toward the snack table. Maybe a drink would help. At least it would give him something to do. Methodically, he pulled a plastic cup from the stack and filled it with punch.

As he sipped the cold drink, he pulled out his phone, smiling a little as he scrolled through cat videos on Tiktok. Watching cute kittens calmed his anxious mind, but it also distracted him enough that he didn’t notice Kaminari sneak up behind him until the blond yelled in his ear.

“Hey, Todobro, wanna make drinks with us?” Kaminari asked, grinning dopily at him.

Todoroki started, looking up from his phone. He was about to politely decline the offer and head back over to his designated corner, when he remembered something Midoriya had said that morning.

It will be fine! I’ll stay with you the whole time. And if you’re feeling anxious, you could always try having a little to drink. No pressure or anything, but a bit of alcohol might help you relax a bit and enjoy yourself more.

At the time, he had dismissed the idea, wary of the adverse effects of said beverage. He’d seen what some of his classmates acted like drunk and he wasn’t too keen on throwing away his neatly filed inhibitions and making a fool of himself. Even though they were of age now, he hadn’t tried much alcohol. It was usually served at parties—something he mostly tried to avoid.

A sharp cough startled him back and he blushed when he noticed Kaminari still standing there, hand on hip as he waited for an answer. Mina had joined him and was giving Todoroki wide puppy dog eyes.

He swallowed. “Oh, uh… sure, I guess.” He still wasn’t sure if it was the best idea, but it had to be better than standing against the wall stressing. At least he hoped so.

“Yes!!” Mina punched a hand in the air, rushing over to the kitchen. “Kiri, do you have any tequila?”

Kirishima poked his head around the door, eyebrows raised in interest. “We making drinks?”

“Yup!” Kaminari cheered, almost dropping the two glasses he’d pulled from the cupboard.

It was almost as if Bakugo could sense the near accident as he gave Kaminari a seething look. “Watch what you touch, Pikachu. This isn’t your damn house.”

“Chill, man. I’ve got it under control,” Kirishima soothed, patting his boyfriend’s arm gently. “This just comes along with hosting a party at your own flat. Now do you want a drink or not?”

Bakugo rolled his eyes but got out another three glasses. “Whatever.”

Meanwhile, Kaminari was carefully pouring pineapple juice into a glass, tongue sticking out in concentration.

Mina hovered over his shoulder, watching intently.

“Then you add two shots of tequila,” Kaminari explained, nodding expertly like he’d been mixing drinks his whole life.

“Ohhhh.” Mina measured out two shot glasses and handed them over.

“You sure it’s two?” Bakugo asked sceptically.

“Course I am! What, you think I’ve never done this before?” Kaminari dumped the liquid into the glass and started adding carefully sliced lemon peel.

“Dude, are you putting the peel in there?!” Kirishima asked, only just noticing what was going on.

Kaminari nodded, waving the lemon in front of Kirishima’s face to emphasise the point. “Yeah! They give it that extra zest.”

“Omg. You guys are gonna feel so sick,” Bakugo drawled.

Mina shrugged, taking the glass and sipping at it. “Mm! Super good. You were right about the lemon peel, it does add flavour!”

Kaminari beamed, already mixing up another drink. “Here, Todoroki, try it!” He practically shoved the glass at Todoroki, sloshing some of the liquid over the side.

Todoroki blinked in surprise. “Uh, thanks.” He looked down at the glass, frowning as he examined the contents. It seemed a little weird, but who was he to judge Kaminari’s mixology skills when he knew nothing about the subject?

Tentatively, he took a sip of the drink. Surprisingly, it wasn’t that bad. A little bitter and the chunks of lemon peel were kind of weird, but overall it tasted pretty good. Shrugging, he tilted his head back and downed the rest in one go.

When he looked down, Kaminari and Mina were staring at him with huge eyes, expressions of shock mirrored on both of their faces.

“Dude, you’re not supposed to chug it!” Kaminari shouted, barely getting the words out between bursts of laughter.

Todoroki blinked down at the empty glass in his hand. “Oh.” He frowned.

“Still, those are insane skills you got there, Todo. I want you on my team next time we play beer pong,” Mina added, watching him with jealous eyes.

Todoroki had no idea what ‘beer pong’ was but figured it was one of those things that he would be made fun of for if he asked, so he kept quiet.

“Okay, now—who wants jello shots?!”

~*~

Thirty minutes later, Kaminari and Mina had introduced him to a whole array of new drinks, some of which he was suspiciously sure had only been invented that evening.

Surprisingly, he was actually starting to enjoy himself. The alcohol surrounded him in a pleasant buzz, steadily clawing away at his fierce barriers until he was laughing along with the other two.

“Okay, try this—pink lemonade, beer, and that weird rum Shinso likes.” Kaminari held out a glass, giggling so hard the cup shook in his hand.

“Ew!” Mina cried, sticking her tongue out in revulsion. “Kaminari, that sounds disgusting!”

“Can’t know ‘til you try it.” Kaminari raised the glass to his lips and took a long sip, spilling half the contents down his front. Giggling, he pulled away. “Oops. Here, Todo, you gotta try!”

Normal inhibitions dissolved, Todoroki accepted the cup and downed the rest of the drink.

“Dude, you should do karaoke with us!” Kaminari gasped suddenly, eyes lighting up with excitement. He grabbed the mic from the counter where he’d discarded it while they made drinks. “I bet you have a hella gorgeous voice.”

“Yeah!” Mina cut in, waving enthusiastically. “Don’t worry, you can’t be any worse than this idiot.” She snatched the mic from Kaminari, giggling at his gasp of outrage.

“Rude!” he cried, trying to grab the mic back.

“Omg you two. Cut it out,” Jirou said, suddenly appearing as if summoned by the prospect of music. She rolled her eyes dramatically. “If you keep arguing we’re never gonna get Todoroki to sing.” She held out an insistent hand. “Give it.”

Mina sighed and reluctantly handed over the mic. “Fineeeee. But only because I wanna see Todoroki sing.”

Jirou smirked and held the device out to Todoroki, ignoring Kaminari’s dramatic whine as he stumbled over his own feet trying to get over to the karaoke machine and collapsed into the pile of pillows that littered the floor.

“Oh, uh, no thanks,” Todoroki said quickly, taking a step back. No way was he going to sing in front of all his classmates.

“Aw, come on!” Mina cried, pouting. “It’s just for fun!”

Todoroki shook his head, taking another step back. “I don’t want to.” Or at least, he shouldn’twant to. But for some reason he didn’t feel all that opposed to the idea. Which was strange because he would never normally consider singing in front of people.

“Aw, don’t be such a scaredy cat, man!” Kaminari whined from the floor. He sat up, messy hair flopping over his eyes. “How come you can face villains without batting an eye but singing a little karaoke has you shaking?”

Todoroki frowned, genuinely perplexed by the blunt statement. When Kaminari put it like that, it did seem rather silly. Surely there wasn’t any harm in giving it a go… Midoriya always encouraged him to try new things.

“Okay,” he said, utterly shocking the three students gathered around him.

Mina gaped at him. “Sorry, what?!”

“I’ll do it,” Todoroki clarified, taking the mic from Jirou’s limp hand.

It only took a moment for Mina’s excitement to return in full force. Squealing in delight, she ran over to set up the karaoke machine. “What song do you want?”

Todoroki shrugged. He probably wouldn’t recognise any of the songs anyway. He’d never been very caught up on the current popular music. “What do they have?”

“Hm…” Mina tapped her chin. “Come look.”

Todoroki nodded, moving over to peer at the little booklet in Mina’s hands. After scanning the list of unfamiliar songs, his eyes finally settled on a familiar title and his heart gave a little leap of excitement. “This one,” he said, running his finger over the small print.

Mina’s eyes widened. “Dude! I didn’t know you liked the Greatest Showman?!”

Todoroki nodded solemnly, as if this should be common knowledge. “It’s an artistic masterpiece.”

Kaminari giggled from the floor. “Kay, let’s hear it then, Mr. artistic masterpiece.”

Mina broke into a violent fit of laughter as she pressed the ‘start’ button on the screen. “Alright, take it away!”

Todoroki raised the mic to his lips and breathed out a slow sigh, watching the TV screen as the opening notes of “This Is Me” filled the room. He almost felt like he was floating, riding a giddy wave of euphoria that really shouldn’t come from standing in front of a crowd. But this was happening and he felt greatso he sucked in a deep breath and began to sing.

“I am not a stranger to the dark. Hide away, they say, ‘cause we don’t want your broken parts. I’ve learned to be ashamed of all my scars. Run away, they say, no one’ll love you as you are. But, I won’t let them break me down to durst. I know that there’s a place for us. For we are glorious.”

Cheers erupted from his fellow classmates, sending his heart stuttering with a strange exhilaration. Feeling a little like he was whirling through an extremely realistic dream, Todoroki started the chorus with a heightened sense of conviction.

“When the sharpest words wanna cut me down. I’m gonna send a flood, gonna drown them out. I am brave, I am bruised, I am who I’m meant to be, this is me.”

By the time the song ended, Todoroki was positively glowing, his mind swept up in a giddy whirl of excitement.

The others seemed just as excited, whooping and hollering as Todoroki set the mic down.

“Omg! That was amazing!” Mina squealed, grabbing his hands and spinning him around so fast he almost tripped over his own feet.

“Thanks,” Todoroki gasped. Even though Mina had let him go, the room continued to spin around him, creating the unpleasant sensation that he was on one of those spinny theme park rides. He swallowed, reaching out for the wall to try and steady himself. God, he was dizzy.

“You should sing more often! You have such a pretty voice!” Mina continued, still bouncing around in excitement.

“Yeah!” Kaminari enthused, stepping up beside them and throwing an arm over Mina’s shoulder.

Todoroki barely heard them. Suddenly he wasn’t having fun anymore. The swaying room sent his stomach pitching and he wanted nothing more than to lie down on the floor and close his eyes until the spinning went away.

The others seemed to notice his distress, voicing their concerns as they pressed in on him.

“Whoa, you okay bro?” Kaminari asked, eyeing him warily.

Todoroki nodded, mumbling a feeble reply. “Yeah.” His body burned with an uncomfortable heat, entirely different from his own fire. “Jus’ gonna si’down for a mi’te.” He stumbled toward the couch, reaching out blindly as he tripped over his own feet.

Suddenly Kirishima was there, catching his swaying body before he could fall and guiding him over to the couch.

Todoroki groaned, closing his eyes when the change in position aggravated his already queasy stomach. He sucked in a few deep breaths, pressing his cheek against the couch in an attempt to ground himself.

“You good?” Kirishima asked, crouching down next to the couch and laying a hand on Todoroki’s shoulder.

Todoroki nodded feebly, wincing when the small movement intensified his dizziness. Even with his eyes closed the room seemed to spin in lazy circles around him. He swallowed. “Yeah. Jus’ got kinda diz’y.”

Kirishima hummed in understanding. “Yeah, that’s the downside to alcohol. I think maybe you should slow down for a bit, man.”

Just the thought of drinking anything more sent his already uncomfortable stomach churning. He swallowed again, shifting a little on the couch to try and get more comfortable.

“He okay?” A voice suddenly spoke above them

Mina and Kaminari gathered around the couch, watching Todoroki in concern.

Kirishima nodded, hand still on Todoroki’s shoulder. “I think he just had a little too much to drink,” he explained.

Mina and Kaminari exchanged guilty looks.

“Oh…” Mina breathed.

Kirishima frowned, brow furrowed in suspicion. “What did you guys do?”

“Nothing!” Kaminari defended, waving his arms wildly. “We were just making drinks. Todoroki was all for it!”

“Yeah! We didn’t force him or anything,” Mina added.

Kirishima sighed. “Fine, fine. I believe you.” He glanced down at Todoroki’s pale face. “I guess he’s just not really used to drinking.”

Kaminari couldn’t suppress a grin. “Omg, who would have ever guessed perfect IcyHot was such a lightweight!”

Todoroki pressed his face further into the cushions, trying to block out the sounds of the others talking. He really didn’t feel well. And Midoriya was still out with Yaoyorozu looking for stupid frozen pizza. Why oh why had he come to this stupid party?!

Another wave of nausea slammed over him, this one noticeably stronger. The taste of liquor brushed the back of his throat, bitter and rancid against his tongue. Gross—why was he tasting it again now?

You’re going to throw up, his mind supplied, almost as if it was annoyed with his inability to put the clues together.

Shakily, he pushed himself upright, swaying when dizziness slammed against him. He forced his eyes open, searching desperately for any indication of where Kirishima’s bathroom might be. Why hadn’t he asked about that earlier?

“Hey man, you okay?” Kirishima asked, startled by Todoroki’s sudden movement.

Todoroki swallowed, eyes falling to the ground. He knew he should get up and try to run to the bathroom, but his head was still spinning and he couldn’t get his limbs to respond.

“You aren’t looking so good… are you feeling sick?” Kirishima asked tentatively.

Todoroki nodded, pressing a fisted hand to his mouth to stifle a sudden burp. “I don’ wanna drink anym’re,” he mumbled, trying to swallow back the bitter saliva that suddenly flooded his mouth.

“I think he’s gonna hurl,” Kaminari put in, earning him an eye roll from Mina.

“Yeah, no kidding, dude. He’s greener than Midoriya’s hair.”

Todoroki groaned, closing his eyes again as his stomach gave an uncomfortable lurch. “‘M gonna throw up,” he mumbled, voice muffled by the hand covering his mouth.

“Shit, yeah, okay,” Kirishima swore, jumping to his feet. “Think you can make it to the bathroom?” He didn’t wait for a response, already grabbing Todoroki’s arm and dragging him to his feet.

Todoroki tried to steady himself, but as soon as he was on his feet, all traces of control evaporated and his stomach gave a violent heave and vomit rushed up his throat. He tried to bend over, but he was too dizzy to navigate properly and most of the vomit spilled down his front. He whimpered, coughing miserably.

“Shit!” Kirishima gasped, grabbing Todoroki’s arm as he swayed dangerously.

“Sor—” Todoroki tried to say, but was cut off by another rush of vomit. He wiped a hand across his mouth, groaning.

“Okay, okay. Come on. Let’s get you to the bathroom.” Kirishima hauled him across the room and down the first hallway, only just managing to get Todoroki situated over the toilet before he heaved again.

“I wanna go home,” he mumbled, gripping the edge of the toilet as he swayed. “C’n you get Izuku?”

Kirishima reached out, sweeping Todoroki’s fringe out of his eyes. “Midoriya isn’t here right now. He’s out with Yaoyorozu. But he’ll probably be back soon.”

Todoroki gave a miserable little sob, collapsing over the toilet with his arms laid across the lid to keep himself upright. Tears welled in mismatched eyes, blurring his already hazy vision. Kirishima was being really nice about the whole thing, but he wasn’t Midoriya. No one could replace Midoriya.

**To be continued**

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damiensdemon · 4 years ago

Text

The Perfect Patient

Words: 4.8k

Summary: One-shot first-person drabble about having an unfortunate dental-fetish and a hot dentist.

"As his gloves fingers brush your jaw to keep it open properly, you find yourself wishing that you did have dentophobia. In reality, fear had almost nothing to do with the pounding of your heart. Rather, you’ve been avoiding this appointment because of your attraction to it."

Warnings: Smut, Dental Kink, Praise Kink, Horny Dentistry, Light Bondage, Light Bloodplay, Tooth Extraction, Needles, Transmasc Protag

The longer you put off something important, the harder it is to get it done. Like weeding a garden or telling a secret, sometimes the mental emphasis you put on a task can make it infinitely harder, as it gets more time to grow roots in your mind.

In your case, you haven’t been to the dentist’s office in many, many years. Currently, you’re sitting in the waiting room of a local office, waiting to be called back. The cozy clinic isn’t nearly as sterile-feeling as you remember your childhood office being, but that doesn’t do much to soothe your nerves.

The door across the room from you opens, and you jump at the sound. Luckily for you, the soft-faced young man who steps out is too engrossed in his clipboard to notice your fear. His brown eyes flick up to yours, and he smiles as he calls your name, “We’re ready for you, if you wanna head back.”

“Y-yes, thank you…” You mumble as politely as you can, quickly collecting your things and following him into the office.

His cheery grin persists as he shuts the door behind you, then leads you off down a hallway. After a couple of turns, he stops in front of a strange looking machine mounted to the wall.

“How are you feeling today?” He asks pleasantly, double-checking his clipboard as he begins messing with something behind a little divider in the room.

“Fine! A little nervous... Um… How are you?” You ask, sliding your thumbs under the straps of your backpack. Nervous tick.

“Pretty swell.” He grins, then motions to the chair under the arm of the machine. “My name is Jamie, and I’m the hygienist on duty today. Since you haven’t been seen for a while, we’re gonna take a quick x-ray. This is just gonna take a second, if you don’t mind taking a seat for me.”

“O-oh, of course.” You sit down in the chair, holding your spine stiffly. Jamie steps around you, then slides a heavy, weighted bib over your head. The weight is oddly comforting as it settles against your shoulders.

He walks you through the steps of the x-ray patiently, and while Jamie keeps up an easy chatter. Despite his best efforts, you can’t help but get more and more anxious as the appointment goes on.

After he takes the bitewing out of your mouth and lifts the weighted vest off of you, you finally ask him something that you'd wanted to since you first realized you needed an appointment. “What’s the dentist like?”

“Doctor Langford? He’s a sweetheart. Nothing to be afraid of.” He shrugs, waiting for you to put your backpack back on before motioning for you to follow him. As you walk, he adds, “All his patients seem to love him, as long as he’s sitting down.”

You give Jamie a confused look. He catches it, then explains, “Oh. He’s really tall. He’s kinda got, uh, gentle-giant vibes, y’know?”

“Ooh, I see.” You mumble, letting yourself wander along behind him toward a dental treatment room. Your friend, who’d recommended you to Dr. Langford, had expressed the same sentiment. Though, they'd described him as 'dark and handsome' in addition to 'tall'.

As you turn into a small room with dark blue walls, Jamie goes on. “His daughter thinks he’s the best. She’s so little compared to him. And, I mean, compared to his ex-wife, I can see why she chose him over her. I have no idea why he’s still single, or why he was even with that woman in the first-... um…” He caught himself, clearing his throat abruptly. “...Yeah. Anyways. Take a seat whenever.”

Jamie nodded toward the chair in the middle of the room, with a dental engine built into one of the armrests. The metal tray beside it contained a few tools that you weren’t quite familiar with, but just the sight of them made you feel…

“So, I’m gonna clean your teeth, and the doctor will be in to check you out as soon as I’m done. Do you want mint or bubblegum flavored toothpaste?”

Stiffly, you force yourself to settle back into the chair. “... Bubblegum, please.”

“Cool.” He said, pulling his medical mask over his nose and putting on a fresh pair of gloves. You have to turn away as he gets prepped, to keep the butterflies in your stomach from crawling their way up your throat.

“... Man, you got it bad, huh?” He asks with an unmistakable glint in his eyes.

“H-- Ghk… What?” You splutter, face flushing instantly.

“You’ve got like, dentophobia right? A fear of dental-stuff?”

You nod a little too quickly. “Yeah! I totally do. I'm super freaked out by all the, uh, mouth stuff. Maybe we should just skip the cleaning."

"I mean, we could, but the dentist is still gonna need to look in your mouth. And, uh… It won't hurt or anything, I promise."

"I'm not really worried about pain." You say with a nervous laugh, pulling on the strings of your hoodie.

Jamie scoots his stool up next to your seat, then puts his hand on your arm. He squeezes gently, waiting for you to relax.

"... Okay. Let's get this over with." You sigh, twisting the strings around your fingers in a self-soothing gesture.

He pats your arm happily, then picks up the brush connected to the chair. "You're a brave man, my dude. Okay, I'll be quick and gentle, promise."

You give a little nod and open your mouth for him. Jamie shifts into a more professional façade as he turns the brush on and begins cleaning your teeth.

Unsurprisingly, the effect on you is immediate. You have to drop the strings as your hands begin to shiver. Instead, you grip the armrests tightly. As your face burns hot once more, you steal a glance at the young man next to you. Jamie is, respectfully, keeping his eyes focused on your mouth, rather than your uncomfortable expression. … You have to keep yourself from thinking about that too much.

As his gloves fingers brush your jaw to keep it open properly, you find yourself wishing that you did have dentophobia. In reality, fear had almost nothing to do with the pounding of your heart. Rather, you’ve been avoiding this appointment because of your attraction to it.

“... Alright, we’re done with the cleaning! Want some water?” Jamie chirps, setting down the electric brush and offering you a small cup. You nod gratefully, taking a sip and swishing for a moment before spitting into the little sink he’d pushed closer to you.

“Is that it, then?” You ask hesitantly.

“Not quite. I’ve gotta floss ya, and check for any left-over nasties.” He says, swapping to a fresh pair of gloves. Idly, your eyes flick to the tray beside your chair. A container of floss sits innocuously beside an array of sharp implements. Jamie laughs quietly, “Uh, don’t worry. Those won’t hurt, either. Unless… you haven’t been flossing.”

Shamefully, you shake your head.

“Gotta get on that shit. Can’t have you getting gum disease. Then you’ll have to come here more often.” He teased, scooting up closer. “Alright, sit back, let’s do this.”

Somehow, you kept your cool through the remainder of the cleaning. By the time your gums had stopped bleeding, Jamie had already cleaned you up and left to fetch the dentist.

Your anxiety barely has time to spike before an absolute mountain of a human being enters the room. He has to duck his head to avoid bumping his head on the door frame. Despite the warm smile on his face as he approaches you, his intimidation factor is massive.

“Good afternoon, sir. I’m Doctor Langford, but you can call me Gabriel.” He says, extending a hand to you.

With your heart in your throat, you reach out to shake it. God, his hand is huge compared to yours. Shakily, you introduce yourself, and can only pray that you don’t sound as terrified as you feel.

“Pleasure to meet you. Now, I wanted to talk to you about your x-ray…” He says, folding himself into the chair Jamie had left beside you. He holds up a sheet of film, and points to a place behind your molars. “Your wisdom teeth are beginning to come in. As one would expect of a young man of your age... Now, I can’t remove those today, but you can schedule an appointment for that later.”

You nod along, but can’t really focus on what he’s telling you. Gabriel speaks with a soothing, deep tone, and a slight accent that you can’t quite place. … Australian, perhaps?

"Alright, I'll just do a quick examination of your teeth, and then we can get you out of here." He says with a smile, turning around to grab a fresh pair of gloves.

You swallow hard, watching him pull his latex gloves into place with a snap. No wedding ring, your stupid-awful-monkey-brain whispers. You tell it, politely, to sit the fuck back.

"Can you open for me?" Gabriel asks gently. Almost embarrassingly quickly, you part your lips and let him look into your mouth.

Even with a mask covering half of his face, you remain very aware of how close he is to you. You can feel his presence looming over you as he adjusts a light to see inside your oral cavity.

He watches you with sharp, attentive eyes. Softly, he hums, then picks up a small mouth mirror and slides it into your mouth.

"Ah, excuse me…" He mutters, lifting his hand and touching your molar with his--

An embarrassing squeak leaves your throat, and he immediately retracts. If he registered the true nature of that noise, he doesn't make it obvious. "Oh. Pardon me. Are you alright?"

Your heart hammers in your ears as you nod. "I-I'm fine! I just, got overwhelmed."

"Ah, I see." He replies, taking off his gloves casually. "Your teeth look quite healthy, but you do have a small cavity in one of your molars."

"... What?" You mumble numbly. Oh fuck, oh shit--

"If you have an extra hour, we can fill that today. Does that sound alright with you?” His tone borders on velvety. Is he doing that on purpose? … No, of course not. He's a dentist, this is his job.

He remains silent and attentive, waiting for you to reply. You nod quickly, snapping yourself out of your thoughts. “... Oh. Yes! Of course, let’s… do that. Get it out of the way. Haha.”

“Wonderful. Jamie will get everything prepared for us, and I’ll be back shortly. Hold tight.” He says, rising to his feet and giving you an approving nod as he exits the room.

Shit. Goddamn it. He knows, he has to.

No sooner has that thought passed through your mind before Jamie pokes his head back in. The smug grin on his face tells you that he has instantly read you for filth.

“Shut up.” You bury your face in your hands, avoiding eye contact at all costs.

The hygienist has to duck back out of the room to laugh, then enters and shuts the door behind him. “So… Anything you wanna share with me, young man?”

Laughing gas, as you’ve discovered, has a strange smell. It’s vaguely sweet, like Jamie had told you, but there’s also a distinctive metallic scent, and perhaps a hint of rubber. Though, maybe that’s the mask strapped over your nose.

“Is it kicking in yet?” He asks, setting something down on the tray out of your line of sight.

“I’m not sure. Maybe?” You say, leaning your head back against the headrest. “I feel… comfortable, I guess. As comfortable as I can right now, at least.”

“That’s good. It shouldn’t take much longer.” He assures you, then glances back at the door. “Just, uh, try not to flirt with Doctor Langford too much when he comes in here, okay?”

“I’m not planning on it.” You say, rolling your eyes. “I don’t want my new dentist to ban me. I’d like to come back for checkups later.”

Jamie rubs the back of his neck, “It's not that he'd be uncomfortable, I think… But, the poor guy gets flustered real easy, and--"

Behind him, the door opens and shuts effectively ending the conversation. You can’t turn your head much, but you can hear Jamie and Doctor Langford having a quiet conversation about your procedure. With a nod, and a "Be good!", Jamie takes a clipboard from Gabriel’s hands and walks out the door. Just like that, you’re alone with the dentist once more.

The stool beside you creaks as Gabriel gracefully lowers onto it. He addresses you gently, “As Jamie already explained, this is going to be quick and simple. After the local anesthetic kicks in, you may feel pressure, but you won’t feel any pain."

He leans forward slightly, catching your gaze. "... Jamie mentioned to me that you’ve been feeling some anxiety about your visit today, is that correct?”

You suck in a deep breath through your nose, and in an instant, a wave of something hits you. It isn’t quite the same sensation as you being high, really, this is more of an out-of-body experience.

Why were you even feeling anxious, anyway? “I was. But, I’m feeling much better now.” You reply, shrugging.

“Oh?" He tilts his head. The picture of innocent curiosity. "May I ask what helped you relax? Beside the nitrous oxide, of course.”

You rack your brain. Well, when he came in just now, you felt more excited than scared. So, you tell him, “You, actually.”

“... Well, thank you.” He grins, laughing kindly. “I have a few patients with dentophobia, and it seems to help them to talk with me before procedures. Would you prefer that we have some extra consultation time in the future? Assuming you need it, of course.”

As he speaks, your eyes shut for just a moment. That warm, comfortable sensation floats through you… As your eyes flutter back open, that open and honest expression on his face just makes you melt. Why were you even afraid of this guy, anyways?

“I don’t have dentophobia.”

“Oh? … Then, may I ask you what specifically had been bothering you?” He asks, resting his forearm against your armrest.

“I have…” You take another breath, trying to collect yourself enough to find the right words. “... um… I have a d-... dental fetish…?”

“... A dental what?” He asks incredulously, those beautiful eyes going wide in… amusement? “D-did I mishear you there, or--”

“No, I’m serious. I have a huge kink for dental-stuff. All kinds of medical stuff, really.” You blurt. He blinks, then leans his stubbly chin against his palm. Taking that as a sign to go on, you explain, “Y’know, examinations, bondage stuff, blood-play, injections, even roleplay… Oh! And doctors are just, like, really hot to me. I like a dad who knows his way around a person’s body, y'know... And the authority, Jesus Christ…”

While you ramble, the dentist moves from being surprised to intrigued. By the end of your confession, he’s fully settled in, and smiling broadly. “Very interesting. Should I assume you mean me, then?”

“Oh, definitely. You’re super my type.” You giggle, grinning right back at him. “Handsome, sweet, intimidating… And your coat looks great on you.”

“You really think so?”

You nod, and your eyes sluggishly slide over his broad torso. He follows the movement of your eyes, and the tips of his ears flush pink.

After a moment of consideration, the dentist rises to his feet and crosses to the door. You feel your heart drop as you assume the worst, but it picks right back up as you hear the lock click.

In a beat, he’s back at your side, now looming over you with a syringe from the tray. The needle is long, glinting in the light above you. You can’t see his face clearly through the glare, but you can tell he’s pulled his medical mask up.

“Open your mouth.”

Without a thought, you do. He cups your jaw with his free hand, sliding his latex-covered thumb over your front teeth. The digit glides over your saliva-slick gums, gently pushing up your lip over your molars.

“Hold still,” He warns, leaning in close as he slides the cold steel into your gums and injects you with… something. After an uncomfortable pinch, he pulls the needle out and massages the area with his thumb again. You whine softly, tasting a hint of blood.

“That was good. You did well.” He murmurs. The praise warms your chest, making you feel more bold. As the pad of his thumb grazes the crown of your teeth, you lick the exposed back of his finger. Even through the shadows, you can see his eyebrows raise in surprise.

With a clatter, he drops the syringe back onto the tray and swings one slender leg over to the other side of your chair. His weight settles against you. He’s heavy, but not more than you can accept on your lap. As you rest your hands on his coat-covered hips, he forces your attention back to your mouth as he presses two fingers against your tongue. Reflexively, you close your mouth and begin to suck on him.

Gabriel made a noise deep in his throat, somewhere between satisfaction and amusement. “... Good boy. You're a wonderful patient.” He purrs quietly, rubbing your cheek with his free-hand.

As you work your tongue against him, you can feel him subtly grinding himself against your abdomen. Cheekily, you slide your hand down his stomach and press your palm against the growing bulge in his pants. In an instant, his hand grabs your wrist and presses it firmly against the armrest.

“Ah-ah." He scolds, a playfully cruel tone in his voice. "This is your appointment. We will be keeping our focus on you… For the moment."

“If you insist.” You mumble around his fingers. He takes them out of your mouth, and skillfully fastens a strap around each of your wrists. As you try to lift your arms, you find them both completely immobilized. Combined with the mask still pumping calming gas into your lungs, you find that your upper body is entirely at his mercy.

"You'll be a good patient for me, won't you?" He asks, his fingers caressing your jaw. You try to nod, but his hold on your jaw forces you to remain looking up at him. "Use your words."

"Y-yes, Doctor." You stammer. Your tongue feels sluggish in your mouth, slurring your speech.

"Very good." He smiles beneath his mask. Your heart stutters in your chest as he plucks a tool off of the tray. His thumb flips a switch, and a soft whir fills the room. He presses the end of the tool to your chest, and for a terrifying moment, you think he's trying to drill through your ribs. But, as a deep buzz resonates along your skin, you recognize it as the same type of brush that Jamie had used to clean your teeth. As he traces along your torso, you find the vibration to be powerful and surprisingly pleasant.

"Now, you'll need to be mindful of the other patients. If they hear someone in distress in my clinic…" He warns, slowly moving the tool lower. Over your stomach, and the waistband of your pants… "It wouldn't be good for business."

You roll your hips under him, subtly presenting yourself. "I'll be quiet. I promise."

He nods, satisfied with your response. Then, he presses the smooth back of the brush head where you'd been hoping he would.

With a sharp gasp, you strain against your restraints. With your pants acting as a buffer, the vibration borders between not quite enough and just right. You have to fight to keep still enough for him to keep the pressure where you want it.

As you swallow back the tiny noises of pleasure that keep rising from your throat, Doctor Langford's attention is completely focused on you. As a particularly strong jolt passes through your body, he carefully tucks a loose strand of hair back behind your ear. Even as you come undone before him, he's still keeping you together.

"... Even through the fabric, you're still responding that strongly?" He clicks his tongue in mock disapproving. "Perhaps you need more anesthetic."

"No, no, please--" You choke out as he withdraws the brush. His pale eyes lock onto yours, urging you to go on. With a hint of desperation, you plead, "I-I want more… Please, keep going?"

"Well… Since you asked so nicely. We will need to get on with your procedure eventually, though." He heaves an exaggerated sigh, then pushes the buzzing tool back against your sensitivity.

This time, you're braced for it. You bite back a moan, and you can see him searching your flushed face. While your hips grind back against the tool, he palms himself idly through his dress pants.

The combination of your dreamy high and the overwhelming stimulation puts your mind in a fog that you can't fathom a world outside of. That's probably why it takes you a moment to register Gabriel's voice as it filters through the haze in your head.

"... still numb?"

"Mmmsorry, what?" You mumble, shaking your head quickly.

Gabriel laughs quietly, adjusting his grip as he repeats, "Is your mouth still numb?"

You prod the injection site with your tongue, then report, "Yeah, almost… um, half of my mouth is completely…. numb… Mmh..."

"Perfect. Could you hold this for me?" He asks, pointing at the still-buzzing tool pressed into your sensitivity.

You roll your eyes at him, nodding toward your fingers drumming loudly on the armrests.

"Oh! How silly of me." He asks with a dry laugh. Then, he easily unbuttons your pants. "How about we try this, then?"

Before you can respond, he slips the tool down the front of your pants. The tight fabric holds the tool against your skin, and with just a slight tilt, it finds your--

"Pfthfucking Christ, OKAY!!" You cry, body shivering as your hips instinctively raise off the plastic-covered chair.

"Too much?" The doctor asks, watching you squirm with obvious amusement.

"Nnnnhhh~, um, no, I mean, it's-- oh fucking fuckfuckfuck, leave it!" You pant, biting your tongue to keep yourself quiet. If the sensation was bordering on perfection before, then this toed the line of too much. But, as your body adjusts to the buzzing, it quickly turns into delicious overstimulation.

Again, Gabriel grabs your jaw, forcing you to look up at him once more. You can barely keep your eyes on his. Your body wants to close your eyes and get swallowed up by the climax slowly building in your stomach, but the rush that his gaze gives you is too wonderful to give up.

For a moment, a silvery glint catches your eye, but his fingers dig into your soft skin. "Look at me." He growls, pressing a thumb to your lips once more, "And open wide."

Eagerly, you do as he commands. You expect to feel his finger run against your tongue, but instead, he yanks your jaw down lower. Your mouth is open as wide as you can hold it, and you just hope that you won't start to drool.

His other hand flits through the corner of your vision, but through the laughing-gas mask, you don't have a clue what he's holding. Something metallic… Another tool.

Cold metal brushes the warmth of your cheek, exposing the numb side of your mouth. Then, there's pressure on one of your molars. The one with the cavity, you think.

"Keep your eyes on me, darling." Gabriel says, a slightly husky edge to his tone. He's leaning in closer now, and you can see how flushed he is under his mask. With your pulse pounding in your ears, you realize how obviously drunk he is on your mutual arousal.

Something pops. Pressure releases in your mouth. You don't feel any pain, but you taste iron.

With a grin, Gabriel pulls down his mask and holds up the molar he just pulled from your skull.

All at once, he tugs your own mask up and off over your head, then closes the distance between the two of you. The dentist kisses you, deep and hungry. You can taste him; his mouth is clean and cool, and the rich warmth of your own blood coats both of your tongues. His gloved hands are all over you, running up your arms and over your chest, tugging at your shirt, then up your neck and into your hair.

And all the while, the buzzing between your legs pushes you closer and closer. When Gabriel finally pulls away, he's breathing harder than you are. His hands fumble clumsily with his belt, before he shakily unzips his pants. In seconds, he's holding himself in hand and stroking with an obvious goal in mind.

Yours hands, still bound, grip the armrests so hard that you're sure the nail marks will never come out. Blood drips down your chin steadily, soaking into the front of your shirt. Doctor Langford's mouth is smeared with red, as are his gloves.

His tongue darting out to taste what's left of you on his lips. He breathes, "You look gorgeous. You're about to cum, aren't you?"

All you can do is nod frantically. You're almost there; your legs are tensed and your hips shiver with anticipation. Just a few more seconds…

With a gasp, Gabriel braces himself with one hand on your headrest. Just as you slip over the edge into a shaking, cursing orgasm, he brings himself to completion on your torso. If you had more presence of mind, you'd be upset at how many fluids have soaked into your shirt. But, as your eyes squeeze shut under the intensity of your pleasure, you don't have a care in the world.

As your own cries of ecstasy die off, you can hear Gabriel panting hard against your neck. Your whole body glows with endorphins, urging you to keep your eyes shut and ride it out.

After a few moments, the dentist's weight shifts, and buzzing between your legs slows to a stop. The pressure on your wrists releases, and the tall man climbs off of your lap.

The stool to your right squeaks as his weight settles into it. You take in a slow, deep breath, and your mental fog seems to lift. Suddenly, everything feels heavy… Distantly, you hear your name being called...

Slowly, begrudgingly, you open your eyes to see Jamie sitting beside you.

"... Wh-... Um. How long were you--?" You squeak, quickly sitting bolt upright and moving to pull the tool out of your--...

The coy grin plastered on Jamie's face doesn't fade as he asks, "Have a good nap, kid?"

There's nothing there. Well, not nothing, but there's certainly no dental tools in your pants. Confused, you touch your mouth. You're still a bit numb, but you're not missing any teeth, and there's no blood. Your clothes are as clean as when you came in, and there's no sign of Doctor Langford.

Jamie clears his throat to stifle a giggle, then goes on. "Your filling went well. You must have fallen asleep pretty early in, since you were out cold by the time I came back."

Your face is burning. Was all of that a dream? You don't remember falling asleep… And, if the wet mess in your pants is anything to go off of, you know that something happened. ...At least in your mind.

"... Um. Did I… say anything stupid?" You ask sheepishly, massaging the numb portion of your face idly.

"Not as far as I know. Doctor Langford said you were a perfect patient." Jamie snorted, turning to the counter to staple together a freshly-printed packet of aftercare information. "He did want me to ask, did you feel any discomfort while you were asleep?"

"N-... no?"

"Oh. M'kay. He mentioned that you got kinda… squirmy… Y'know, when he turned on the drill." Jamie says with an audible smirk. "... He said he hopes that your dentophobia hasn't given you a poor impression of him."

You can't even think of a response that won't damn you to a deeper layer of hell. Either you had a wet dream in front of your dreamy new dentist, or…

"Anyways… You do need to come back for a follow-up appointment soon. Your wisdom teeth gotta be taken care of, ASAP." He says, turning back around and handing you the packet. "Wanna schedule that now?"

You hesitate, tapping the papers against the armrest. Part of you wants to flee the country and never speak the word teeth again. But… Then again… Would it really be the worst thing in the world to see him again?

With a coy grin to match Jamie's, you finally reply, "... What's the earliest you can get me in?"

#self insert #reader insert #smut #drabble #writing #dentist #dental kink #medical #mlm #smile for me #original #doctor #dental #damiensdemon

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bigowlenergy · 4 years ago

Text

heat + horror

next chapter of How to Raise the Dead!

Maddie stands at the door to the basement, hazmat tied down around her waist, staring into the green dark. To her left, the cicada scream en mass. The refrigerator hums at her back. The portal buzzes below. The cold air that swirls up the steps is incredible against the summer heatwave. Maddie. Wants to go down. Hesitates, still.

Danny is down there.

Maddie loves her son, but she loves her daughter, too, and knows better than to bother Jazz when she’s trying to finish a paper and watch the finale to her latest K-drama at the same time (again) and expect anything but getting snapped at and increasing her stress. The experience is just new, with Danny. He was always the relaxed one, but once it hit 80 degrees in the house, the basement became his domain, with the same low tolerance for interruption. With an extra edge of physical discomfort and medical concern. Maddie just doesn’t want to upset him further. It feels like she does that all too often, but Danny just won’t say anything when she does. It’s hard to understand him. She wants to, but he’s pulled so far away from them already...

“Hey, mom.” Jazz stands in the entryway, kicking her flip flops off, two bags of gas station ice slung over her shoulders. “He moved yet?” She asks.

“No, I don’t think so. I was just about to check,” Maddie offers, stepping in to take the second bag from Jazz. She’d stepped out to get some water. Hadn’t gone back. Condensation from the ice leaks down her shoulders, sticks her hair to her neck. Instant relief.

“Alright.” She says. “You coming down? It’s cold.”

And Maddie hesitates at the mouth of the threshold, for just a moment.

“Sounds nice,” She tells the stairs, hidden under the clanging of Jazz’s steps.

At the bottom, all she can see is the ring of lawnchairs and the little blow up kiddie pool that Jazz is dumping her bag of ice in. The clear vinyl tubing of the cheap outdoor furniture catches every refraction of green light from the open portal. An oversized alien dollhouse in Maddie’s lab. The smell of squeaky fresh plastic overwhelms the ectoplasm. The basement has always been climate controlled, and underground besides, so the downright frosty air that the open portal adds to the mix creates the strange atmosphere of a sauna in winter. Inverted.

But the chilliest thing by far is Danny.

Maddie finally gets a good look at him when Jazz collapses back into her own chair, sticking her feet into the pool with a great heaving sigh. Maddie appreciates her running to the store for them. It’s nearly 110 out. She goes to dump her part of the ice in and nearly fumbles to keep from pouring it straight over Danny’s head. He’s buried up to his chest, now. What she thought were odd shadows from the portal are actually his folded knees, the only other part not under ice. His eyes are glazed and dull, staring sightlessly into the green vortex, his head pillowed on the wet plastic rim of the pool. Soaked hair drawn back by one of Jazz’s headbands drips slowly onto the concrete floor. Maddie frowns at that. They specifically asked the kids to make sure nothing in the lab was exposed to water. Should have put a towel down.

She probably can’t blame Danny for lack of foresight. He doesn’t look good.

“Hi, sweetie,” Maddie whispers, tucking the ice in around his legs instead.

His blank expression doesn’t change as he belatedly mouths ‘hi’ back to her.

“Drink your slush,” Scolds Jazz, kicking at the ice idly. Danny’s buried hands slowly tip the half melted slushie toward his face. The straw rests in his mouth for a while, but Maddie’s fairly sure he doesn’t drink any. Her poor baby. Jazz had picked it up for him the first time she went to the store, nearly three hours ago.

Maddie pulls her hands from the ice and wipes them on her shirt. Goes to the monitoring station set up on the side of the portal. The nodes taped to Danny’s neck are probably the only things keeping him from fully submerging himself. His oxygen levels are lower than his usual terrifying baseline of 87%, hovering in the 84-86% range, and his heartrate is just short of clinical death. Most worryingly, his temperate is reading at nearly 80 - a deadly fever, considering his normal 71.3.

Maddie wishes they knew how to really help him. This feels strangely like a - not like a test, not really, but like something is being withheld from them. Like Danny knows what to do, but is still too scared to tell them. Like it’s something he doesn’t want them to know, another little secret on the pile. A tiny declaration of loss of trust.

Or he’s afraid of them knowing.

Not that he could tell them, right now. He’s been basically unresponsive to even the most drastic of stimuli since his internal temp hit 75 an hour ago. Jack had driven out for the lawn furniture around that time, helped wrangle Danny out of the bathtub and into the lab for better monitoring, then disappeared again a few minutes ago. Maddie has an inkling of what he’s up to, so she’ll just hold down the fort and see what happens.

But Danny. Looking at this array, she has the clinging idea that this would be easier for him if he was a ghost. But even now, he’s so hesitant about letting them see him. Has never, in word or deed, trusted them with that. It’s an open secret. What he is.

Who he is.

Jazz knows; Maddie knows she known for some time now. Maddie knows. Does Jack? Maddie knows. She tries to imagine that alien presence in this little family tableau. More green in the air. An extra buzz of static under the portal. White hair, dripping. Maddie knows, but it feels like she knows less than she did three weeks ago.

She’s seen Phantom with her own eyes. Seen him fly and fight and snarl like an animal. Seen him bounce and smile and joke. How does he do it? Maybe Maddie just isn’t ready for the perfect intersection of those things yet. Does - does Danny’s ghost leave his body?

Is Maddie really ready to face her sons’ corpse and his ghost at the same time?

Jazz splashes suddenly, feet shifting, head tipped back dramatically off the edge of her seat, hair in a huge bun, wearing her only pair of shorts. Little embroidered ghosts on the hem. Would he electrify the pool, if he changed?

Maddie sucks in a breath and drags her eyes back to the monitor. Maybe it would be better if he did. Actually. The shock might be what he needs to stabilize his heart. He’s obviously reliant on cold temperatures to facilitate stronger conductivity of his electrical impulse based neurology. Like any other ghost. He’s losing stability of consciousness. Unable to rely on the physical, chemical reaction based impulses of the li - of humans. Maddie’s trying not to think about it. She doesn’t want to think about it. The monitor won’t tell her anything else.

Danny, the ghost, Danny, her son, is suffering from mild destabilization and his human body is too close to brain dead to keep him from -

God, Maddie is glad she doesn’t know.

Jack, bless that man, saves her from her thoughts by clambering down the stairs.

“Icecream!” He calls, voice pitched less exuberantly loud than usual. In deference of the small lab space, empty of the usual noise of running machines, or in deference to Danny. Or her own nerves. Jack hands Jazz a pint of strawberry pistachio and a spoon, sets a bag near the pool and then appears at Maddie’s side. Kisses her cheek. Glances at the monitor.

“How’s he doing?” He asks, handing her her own pint and a fork. Pecan Caramel soymilk.

“Not much worse. But we don’t know beyond his baselines, so it could mean anything. Temperature’s been stable for the last twenty minutes.” Maddie digs out the first pecan she sees and keeps it in her mouth to cool her sensitive teeth. Offers nothing else. Jack can read the screen. If he arrives to the same conclusion, then they’ll talk about it upstairs. Away from the kids. Hopefully, Danny’s too busy barely existing to overhear, if it comes down to it.

Jack nods, bullshooter blue eyes sweeping over the monitor. One huge, extremely hot hand rests on her back, goes to rub soothingly, but Maddie shoos him with her fork.

“You’re cold!” He says delightedly, sticking his hands on the folds of her turned down hazmat. He spares her a smile, then snaps his attention back to the screen. Lingers on Danny’s oxygen levels. “Well,” Jack says, straightening up, “Let’s try to get his internal temperature down a bit, then. Come on, Danno!”

He unties the cloth bag and pulls out a full gallon of icecream. There is no room in the freezer for that.

“Okay, buddy, I got us a real treat, straight from the farmer’s market creamery, you know, the people with the ecto-infected cows we helped out last spring? Got us a discount! Anyway, it’s custom. Chocolate icecream, fudge pieces, cacao nibs, coconut shavings, sprinkles, cookie bits, and those little soft dough chunks -” He cuts off, leans in closer to the pool, watches Danny intensely for a few seconds. “Yep! Extra cookie pieces. Wanna try some?”

Jack sticks two spoons in the open gallon and sets it aside. Gently eases the mostly ignored red slushie out of Danny’s hands and passes it off to Jazz. She doesn’t hesitate to pour some of it over her icecream. Maddie shudders. Bites her pecan. Takes a seat.

Jack pulls a shop towel out of his shorts pocket and soaks it in the pool, then wipes his face with it before slinging it around his neck. Takes a tiny spoonful of the icecream and starts to set it in Danny’s direction.

“Just try a bit, Danno. I’ll let you drink dry ice again,” He cajoles. Maddie whips her head up to glare at him. Jazz shrieks with her mouth closed, prevented from yelling properly by a well timed frozen strawberry. Jack ignores them both. He’d better have a damn good reason and some damn good results.

He gets Danny to eat a little, at least. He’d refused dinner last night, and it’s almost 7 PM, now. After a while, Jack leans in again. All Maddie can hear from a bare few feet away is a quiet, wet little rasp.

Jack beams his most reassuring grin at their son. “Of course it’s got ectoplasm in it; it’s for you, Danny-boy!” He says. And. That might be the first time any of them have put it to words. Admitted it out loud. It should feel like a taboo broken, but somehow, it eases a little relief into the atmosphere. A confession they all share.

Then Jack frowns a bit. Eyebrows drawn down in concern when he says “Is it not enough?”

Danny shakes his head, a light tremble of motion. The wet plastic squeaks under his neck. Lies still. Jack sits back, looks up to Maddie. Jazz is leaned back in her seat, staring down at Danny with a sharp frown of disapproval on her face. A fierce set to her eyes that tells Maddie everything she needs to know.

“We’ll get you more, sweetie,” Maddie tests the waters carefully, kneeling down across from Jack, sets a hand on Danny’s drying hair, keeps Jazz in her sights. Danny closes his eyes and shakes his head again, turning further into her palm and sighing quietly. A low, tired sound of dismissal. Not for Maddie. Jazz looks away, guilt and worry plain on her face. Bites her lip. Lids her icecream and mumbles an excuse of a goodbye, looking a bit mutinous as she leaves.

Maddie has to wonder if she should step back from this. Let Jazz do whatever needs to be done that Danny is hiding from them. But she can’t. These are her children; they shouldn’t need to be providing something for themselves. It’s her duty to care for them.

But. She is also an ectobiologist. Knows damn well what ghosts need. Has done in-field observations on this sort of thing for at least a decade.

It’s not the amount of ectoplasm that matters. It’s the source.

They can’t provide what Danny needs from the lab.

Sure, they’ve never seen Phantom feeding, but he’s so rarely seen at all. Elusive. Non-normative behavior. Maybe -

An incomplete hypothesis has never sat well with her. Her son being miserably sick while she has the power to help him is not sitting any better.

“Danny,” She says firmly, gently taking his cold face in her hands and wincing at the mincing slowness of his pulse under his jaw. “Please, just tell us what’s wrong, honey.”

Something thumps upstairs. What is Jazz doing? Maddie had assumed she left the house. To get. Something. Bring something back? Get a ghost they know to help?

Maddie’s seen ghosts negotiate and willingly feed from each other. The statistically significant ratio of mutual encounter to violent attack was one of the things that tipped the scales for Maddie and Jack on whether ghosts have the capacity for civilized society or not.

If Danny has some sort of pact or agreement with a local ghost, then Maddie is intensely interested in learning every detail of it. As both his mother, and as an ectobiologist. Jazz probably has extensive notes.

Upstairs, something drags across the floor. Maddie jumps at the noise.

“I’ll go check,” Jack offers, glancing guiltily back to Danny before heading up the stairs.

Maddie turns her attention back to Danny and actually feels her heart skip a beat when she finds him staring up at her with dull, glazed eyes. His face too-still and eerie in the green light of the buzzing portal. It dyes him colors he shouldn’t be. She takes in a breath, and calms herself, confused by her own reaction. She’s been exposed to high levels of ectoplasm for nearly two decades. Maddie lost her innate terror-reaction to ectoentities years ago. This is completely unfamiliar to her.

But the way Danny’s too blank face flashes into guilt as he flinches and tries to pull away is not. It’s the same reaction as Jazz earlier.

Guilt. Something withheld. Upstairs, something drags against the wood floors again. Slow, deliberate.

“Danny -” She starts, concerned. He squeezes his eyes shut tight and turns away from her. Mouths something that she reads as sorry. A creak on the stairs. The lights flicker. Maddie jolts back in a crouch immediately, hand falling to where her weapons should be. One hand on Danny. Assuring his location. Her other hand closes on nothing. Of course not. Maddie doesn’t wear her weapons around Danny. Not any more. There’s nothing there. She forces herself into a more relaxed stance with some difficulty.

What could they have upstairs for this? Surely there’s not another ghost living in their house? Maddie would like to think that a second instance would be ridiculous. Maybe a hidden freezer of ectoplasmic samples? She looks down at the human ghost in her lab. Maybe he needs a rare type of ectoplasm, due to his unusual biology? His half human biology.

Half human. Needing ectoplasm and emotion, but also needing food. Maddie’s heart picks up uncomfortably, sits high in her throat. At the other end of the room is the wall safe with the Nightingale journals. The myths and accounts and legends of violent ghosts. Hunted for their danger to humanity. Their hunger. Maddie and Jack have long discounted or disproved those old folk tales.

But then again, they’d also disproved the existence of something like Danny.

“Danny -” She tries again, watching the way he’s turned away from her intently. Mouth pressed in a thin, unhappy line. Every ounce of him tense, entombed in ice.

Jack bounds down the stairs. Maddie jolts to her feet. He’s got the bulky old TV from the sitting room in his arms. Maddie’s heart is pounding, her mind blank.

“We’ve got the cure, Mads!” He cries. Jazz follows, carrying the DVD player and a stack of DVDs.

In the pool, Danny shudders strongly enough to stir the ice. Moans out “No,” loudly enough to be heard.

“Shut up, Danny.” Jazz says firmly. “You need this.”

Jack finishes plugging the makeshift entertainment center together. Jazz sets the DVDs down and sticks one in the player. Maddie’s seen every title on the pile, but doesn’t recognize them from anywhere in the house. All horror films, many classic. Monster movies. Slasher flicks. It’s so disingenuous from where her mind had been that she’s left frozen.

“They’re from Sam,” Jazz explains. “For when somebody runs out of juice.” She spares Danny an annoyed glare and hits play.

Oh. Oh. Maddie looks down at the miserable little ghost in the pool, her shadow cast long over his morose, guilty expression. He’s so pale. The colors from the TV flicker against the vinyl and ice and ectoplasm in surreal flashes. Some loud sound blares from the old speakers with more static than usual and Maddie jolts again. All her senses on high alert, an undercurrent of unnatural fear flooding her cerebellum. An artificially induced state of terror. The buzzing she’s been ignoring with all the ease of overexposure is Danny’s aura, set to 18 hz.

There hasn’t been a ghost attack in nearly a week. All the local specters retreating to the other side of the portal as the heat wave rages on theirs. Danny hasn’t been able to emphathically power himself in a week. Maybe longer.

Ghosts feed on fear.

He’s been overwhelmed with the heatwave, unable to patrol his territory, probably not physically fed in a while, and emotionally weakened. Of course he’s destabilizing.

Maddie lets out a breath of relief. This is something easily remedied, at least. She leans in and kisses Danny’s forehead. In apology. In absolution. Feels guilty for her distrust of him with such an irrational idea. Feels the rekindled instinctual hyperawareness of a ghost near to her vulnerable human throat. Ignores it. Helps Jack finish moving the chairs closer to the pool. Sets her icecream back on her lap. Settles in and lets herself overthink the timing of the next jumpscare. Watches her little ghost relax slowly as he draws strength from their shared, controlled fear. Wonders if he has a vomeronasal organ, with the way his mouth is a little open. If it helps with emphathic filtering, or if it’s psychosomatic. Wonders if he feels better. Fishes his hand out of the ice and holds it tight until he squeezes her back.

It’s been a while since they’ve had a family movie night.

#dannymay2020 #danny phantom #heat #fenton family fun times #maddie fenton #jack fenton #jazz fenton #danny fenton #heat and horror #fanfiction

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secretradiobrooklyn · 4 years ago

Text

Get In Moses Edition | 2.13.21

Secret Radio | 2.13.21 | Hear it here.

art by Paige, liner notes mostly by Evan, *means Paige

1. Chantal Goya - “Tu m’as trop menti”

From the movie “Masculin feminin,” a DVD we borrowed from Tim. This is the film where Godard was whispering the lines into a headset of the actor, so they were learning their lines literally as they were saying them. This is the opening song. Not particularly Valentine’s Day, in that it’s about lying too much… but still there’s a dissatisfaction that is undeniably a part of French romance.

2. Human League - “(Keep Feeling) Fascination”

Such a square song! But the keys hook is so immortally beautiful, with its crucial warble. The rest of the song is sweetly and innocently ‘80s. It reminds me of being in art class in high school, fully participating in the aesthetic crimes of the era.

3. Marijata - “Break Through” - “Afro-Beat Airways”

Analog Africa is just now releasing a repress of this long sold-out collection. I’d listened to it before, but I guess that was before I knew about Marijata (thanks again, Jeffrey!) because it was a shock to discover a track by one of our very favorite Ghanaian discoveries. So far as I knew, Marijata only released one album of four songs — which is fantastic — and then eventually started backing a guy named Pat Thomas. Those records, unfortunately, are nowhere near as vital and fascinating as their own record. So finding this song was a welcome revelation! I should also say that, no surprise, the whole collection is a banger from front to back, and will definitely show up again on the show.

4. Philippe Katerine (avec Gérard Depardieu) - “Blond”

This strange guy is a kind of joker songwriter in French pop, as far as I can tell. This song is all about what one can get away with if one is blond. He’s a really fascinating character, a tiny bit like Beck maybe, in the sense that he seems to have made a successful career of taking unexpected directions. He’s also an actor, working with Claire Denis (!), Jonathan Demme and Gille Lellouche among many others. He was also in “Gainsbourg - A Heroic Life,” which is an excellent movie that we highly recommend. (We had no idea who he was when we saw it at the St. Louis Film Festival.) Also, he appears to be married to Gérard Depardieu’s daughter, which would seem to explain this particular guest star.

- The Texas Room - “Cielito Lindo”

Several years ago, a producer in St. Louis put together the amazing album known as “The Texas Room,” which brought together immigrants from all over the world who currently lived in St. Louis. That meant Bosnians, Cameroonians, Mexicans, and native-born Americans… including Andy Garces, a fellow Paige went to high school with — His mom was Paige’s voice teacher as a matter of fact — who recorded this strange and excellent version of “Cielito Lindo.” The release party for the album was one of the greatest nights we spent in that or any city, dancing our faces off to all kinds of music. At one point the Bosnians got so excited they took over the room, shouting along and hoisting up their guy in the air. Basil Kincaid did the art for the album, and I think that’s the night we finally met. We have one of his collages on our studio wall right now — right over there!

5. The Modern Lovers - “I’m Straight” *

When we got the current SK van (circa 2015) we were super excited because we could finally bring out other musicians on the road and we could also have folks from other bands that we were out with jump in the van with us for a stretch. That February we were on tour with Jamaican Queens, and our friend Andy Kahn came out with us to play guitar. Not only is Andy a rad musician and great guy to be around, but he was an excellent road DJ. Somehow I made it to 30 without getting into The Modern Lovers (I know, crazy!) Andy has great taste and had a well appointed iPod so he was the official van DJ pretty much right away. He put on this record one day and I just lost it. The thing is, after that I was like “Play ‘Roadrunner’ again!” all the time. When I hear this record I still think of that tour. Andy in the back seat DJing, Ben and Erik jumping in the van to come with to Baltimore, graduating to “truck” in the Holland Tunnel queue, so much snow, host Bentley, “Go cats?”, Aaaaaahhhhh!

6. Frances Carroll & the Coquettes - “Coquette / When I Swing My Stick / Jitterbug Stomp”

I think we learned about this band last year, when Coquettes drummer Viola Smith died at 107 years old (in Costa Mesa, not Silverlake, Paige would like you to know — her bad). The video link below is highly recommended — the whole band swings hard, and the interaction between them and Frances Carroll is well worth the watch. They were considered a curiosity at the time, being an all-female band, and man they could play. Viola Smith in particular had an insanely long career, playing from the 1920s straight through into 2019! She played with Ella Fitzgerald and Chick Webb, and in the original Broadway production of “Cabaret.” Her particular innovation was having two toms at shoulder height, on either side of her head, which she would roll and ricochet shots off. Very cool style, never copied.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pFDD_NxtKZ4

7. Pierre Sandwidi - “Boy Cuisinier”

Born Bad Records is one of the world’s coolest record labels, with a huge array of vintage discoveries as well as African albums as well as contemporary pop and noise bands. “Boy Cuisinier” is off Pierre Sandwidi’s album with them. It bears some definite relation to Francis Bebey but takes its own turns just as often. Sandwidi hails from Burkina Faso, known as the Upper Volta when he was growing up. We’re just now learning about him and his scene — I confess I didn’t even know Upper Volta was African; I thought it was Slavic — so I wouldn’t be surprised if some more Voltaic music shows up here soon.

8. Evan Sult avec Tracy Brubeck - “The Cats Won’t Stay In”

Paige’s mom Tracy called while we were in the middle of the show, and they paused to have a conversation about, you know, whatever — the snowstorms, the neighbors, the news. She was on speakerphone so that we could all talk, and eventually I just started taking notes as fast as I could. This is the result. I find it fascinating. That’s Paige singing lead on the Marty Robbins tune.

9. Kil Monnower Alimunna, Grup Hindustanbul - “Tadap Tadap”

Years ago I saw the movie “Monsoon Wedding” by the director Mira Nair. It really stuck with me, particularly the gorgeous opening credits in maroon and orange and sky blue. I was trying to tell Paige about that sequence, so just in case we could catch a glimpse of those colors, we watched the trailer. This song is the soundtrack to the trailer. It’s really an amazing track — so Indian, of course, but with definite Western points of contact, like when it goes to the major chords unexpectedly in the post-chorus, which sounds practically American. And the final outro minute or so is full of delayed, reverbed vocals in a psychedelic style, til it reaches the strange and intoxicating sound that he makes with his voice as the song fades into the distance.

- Martial Solal “New York Herald Tribune” - “A bout de souffle” soundtrack

10. Gillian Hills - “Tut Tut Tut Tut”

Gillian Hills, probably more famous for “Zou Bisou Bisou.” This track is great, listen for those syrupy slides and harmonies. I just learned that she is English, and the music video for this song is definitely shot in Angleterre. Full of famous red phone booths (now famous little free libraries.) When we were doing this week’s show I asked Evan “Is this song too obvious?” He said no, it wasn’t too obvious. If you know why I’m asking, then you know. So is it?

11. Jacques Dutronc “La Compapade”

We’ve been into Jacques Dutronc for many years now, because he’s a brilliant French songwriter and composer. But this one track has been a baffler for many years now. It shows up out of nowhere and sounds like… what? What the hell IS that? Is it African? It sounds African, but — is it? Is it just some strange lark on his part? Paige was apprehensive about playing it on the show, even though we both really enjoy it, because we couldn’t tell if it was somehow demeaning to someone. But eventually I argued that we don’t know what the hell most of the singers are saying in the songs we play, or which cultural taboos they’re transgressing, and the same is true in this case. If it is somehow offensive to anyone, I hope it’s clear that wasn’t our intention. But… I don’t know. I don’t think it is. I think it just comes from a cultural heritage and context that is French in a way Americans cannot understand or appreciate. In any case, it’s an amazing performance and recording!

12. K. Frimpong & His Cubanos Fiestas - Me Da A Ɔnnda”

Research into African rock and styles eventually brought us to K. Frimpong and His Cubanos Fiestas, which has turned out to be a satisfying step into the Ghanaian highlife/Cuban scene. I love the keyboard hooks in this one and the way the patterns just roll on and on with each other like a river, in no hurry but pulled forward by their own currents. He was also a visual artist — his art appeared on the cover of last episode’s Nyame Bekyere album. This was also the first time I’ve encountered the character “Ɔ” in the wild. I have zero idea how it is pronounced.

13. They Might Be Giants - “Birdhouse In Your Soul”

“Not to put too fine a point on it / Say I’m the only bee on your bonnet / Make a little birdhouse in your soul.” I remember when I first realized that was a feeling I was feeling — hoping to build a birdhouse in the soul of another, to be inside one another in a little protected place. The rest of the song is a nerd-rock dream palace I love as much as any other nerd, but the chorus is where I discovered an emotion I hadn’t suspected was there when I first heard and fell for this song and this band in high school (thanks, Jeremy Peterson!).

Paige adds: This song is blowing my mind. I don’t like writing lyrics, my ratio of melodies and harmonies to lyrics way out of whack. Evan brought this song back into our lives this week when Sleepy Kitty was asked what our favorite love songs are on a real radio show. We’ve been listening to it a bunch since Thursday and damn, these lyrics are good. It’s really reminding me that you can write about ANY.THING. Blue Canary in the freakin’ outlet by the light switch. Looking at the lighthouse picture. It’s a clinic. I learned something, and I can go home.

On the original topic, I love thinking of this as a love song. If you hear a love song, it’s a love song. It’s a love song.

14. Sleepy Kitty - “Tu veux ou tu veux pas” *

I took two years of French in high school and missed out junior and senior year because of a scheduling lulu that made 3rd and 4th year French conflict with advanced painting which was the primary reason I was taking French in the first place. I’m still not over it. Years later, I’m at Electropolis (in my memory) and I hear this Brigitte Bardot song on Tim’s excellent sound system and I can understand…most?…some…of it! I fell in love with this song and with French again and started stumbling, scrabbling at it again. We started working up this cover. Thank you Suzie Gilb for helping with the pronunciation. We did a 7” of this song and it’s a rare SK track with me playing trombone on it.

15. The Velvet Underground - “I Love You” *

I don’t really have much to say about this track except that it reminds me of flying to Germany because I got the 5 Disc set with all the extras on it a few days before leaving for a high school foreign exchange program. I was so happy to have those discs to absorb on the long flight, and come to think of it, it really inflected the whole trip.

16. Secret Song - “African Scream Contest”

The genesis of our love for African rock/funk/whatever (if for a moment we don’t count the profoundly influential “Graceland”) is the immortal collection “Legends of Benin,” put out by Analog Africa. As soon as we dug further for our favorites from that collection, we found “African Scream Contest” vols 1 and 2. I was drawn to the second one because it had a killer track by our hero Antoine Dougbé, but eventually spent as much time with the first volume. Both are absolutely fantastic. Part of what I love so much about them is learning how much of an impact James Brown and his band had on African music, which is super apparent throughout these collections and especially this track. The drums and the grunts and the hard stops and the horn blasts — it’s all there.

One of the finest elements of these records is the hidden track at the end, tucked five or so minutes back from the last song. These are often some of the hottest tracks on the album, well worth the wait, and this mystery song is no exception. Unfortunately, though, that means we don’t know who made this track or what it’s called. Oh well — that only makes it cooler!

- Adrian from Brooklyn

17. The Beatles - “Dizzy Miss Lizzy”

We watched “The Beatles: Eight Days a Week” recently (totally worth a watch), and we were struck all over again by how insane their lives must have been at that time. Yes fame, yes sudden fortune, yes global supremacy, yes yes yes — the thing that I can’t get over is the shrieking, and how it wasn’t just present at their shows, it was EVERYWHERE THEY WENT, AT ALL TIMES ON ALL DAYS, EVERY SECOND THEY WERE OUTSIDE. How completely unsettling that must have been, to be the center of that howl, day after day, year after year.

18. The Fall - “Sing! Harpy”

Dedicated to Adrian from Brooklyn and all those young women and men losing their minds over the Beatles so completely that all they could do was shriek, even at shows where the crowd’s sound completely obliterated the sound of the band they so desperately loved and came to hear.

(This is also some of my favorite violin playing in any rock music, right up there with “Boys Keep Swinging” and The Ex’s “State of Shock.” I would LOVE to work with a violinist in this mode.)

19. T.P. Orchestre Poly-Rythmo - “Gnon a Gnon Wa”

So intense! That constant chord strike throughout the song is a kind of high-note drone that we find ourselves drawn to. It kind of reminds me of the sound of a casino, where you walk in and all of the machines are chiming the same note, promising to just take your mind away and keep it safe until you need it again.

- Tommy Guerrero - “El Camino Negro” - “Road to Nowhere”

20. Black Dragons de Porto Novo - “Se Djro” What a slinky number! I love how spare the instrumentation is, but how much power is contained in that one guitar part. This is side A of a 7” put out on Albarika Store, the label that T.P. Orchestre called home for many albums.

21. Helen Nkume and Her Young Timers - “Time” This is (so far) the closest we’ve gotten to reggae on WBFF. I know nothing about the band or the music other than their fantastic name and sound — oh, and the fact that she is known elsewhere as Prophetess Helen Nkume. She appears to be Nigerian, or anyway her record label is. I love the guitar hook on this song, it just sneaks in and steals the show.

22. Anne Sylvestre - “Les Gens Qui Doutent”

23. Parvati Khan - “Jimmi Jimmi Jimmi Aaja Aaja Aaja Re Mere” A lucky find! Someone in one of my Facebook groups posted a video from this album, so I took note and returned later to check it out. This is from an Indian movie called “I’m a Disco Dancer” that looks like a real kooky thrill. The actors appear to have only the vaguest sense of what “disco” might be — or what a guitar might be, for that matter. It kind of looks like someone saw a single photo of a disco night and extrapolated a whole movie from it. Nonetheless, Parvati Khan is entrancing in the song and in the video, and we HAVE to see this movie, with or without subtitles. The smoldering look alone really requires investigation:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZUdJQSUcK_Y

24. Nancy Sit - “Love Potion #9” * One thing I’ve always known about Evan is that he doesn’t like the song “Love Potion #9.” When we stumbled across this, I thought it was awesome but I didn’t want to make Evan listen to a song he doesn’t like on Valentine’s Day! Evan says this song has little to do with “Love Potion #9” which makes me wonder, Evan, what’s the part you don’t like about “Love Potion #9”?

Evan adds: I honestly can’t remember what my issue with this song was. I swear, it was like… it was around the time of “Melt With You,” which I also found inexplicably irritating (and still do). I suspect now that there was an inept cover version that first steered me wrong… but luckily there’s a strange Chinese version to steer me right again! Oh life.

- Michel Legrand - “Solange’s Song (Instrumental)” - “The Young Ladies of Rocheforte”

25. The Velvet Underground - “I’ll Be Your Mirror” * This is the song that I said was the best love song of the western world on the real radio. I think it’s so beautiful and so adult. I don’t even know if I would have thought of this as love song a few years ago. When first got into the V.U. I thought it was a pretty song – a neat song, but I didn’t really know what it meant, what it could mean. What’s funny is when I think of this song, I have a Lou Reed version in my head – his voice, the harmonies. When I revisited the Max’s Kansas City live version (which as far as I know is the only one besides other more recent live versions and surely what I’m thinking of?) I realized that the version in my head is essentially that one but cleaned up, remastered, different EQ, and as far as I know entirely imagined.

Evan adds: (Paige has been playing this song recently around the apartment. I don’t even have to tell you how lovely it is.)

*p.s. If you want to hear the piece about musicians talking about favorite love songs on KWMU it’s here: https://news.stlpublicradio.org/show/st-louis-on-the-air/2021-02-11/listen-love-songs-to-keep-you-warm-on-cold-winter-nights

Super fun getting to talk about this stuff and in such good company!

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anangelicday-mrwolf · 4 years ago

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Wolfsbane : Noblesse Fanfic (post-ending)

(previous chapter)

Chapter 23 – Shattered Lake

“Haaa...”

Like a dragon spitting smoke, Frankenstein yielded a sigh with a sound expected from a steam locomotive, as he dropped the document he was holding.

The thin piece of material was long devoid of life it used to relish in the forest that gave it life; however, Frankenstein could swear the paper was just drained of life as it swam in the air towards the desk.

Which was not his first time seeing it.

It has been weeks, now more than days, ever since he agreed to a secret deal with Muzaka to constantly receive Ignes’s data from Lunark to dissect.

At the same time, he had to regularly probe through Union’s data that 3rd Elder had collected for him, in order to find something, if anything, that can unravel the mystery of Raizel’s return.

Neither of which has reciprocated him with any progress.

A hamster in a wheel was now an overstatement for him; he felt now he has become a cogwheel in a machine.

And such lament, of course, changes nothing. The only resort he could make once again was reasoning with himself.

‘Next time. Yes, next time I will land upon something. So I’ll just have to wait until Lunark shows up.’

That moment his heart seized with an unusual “thump,” and Frankenstein could not deny that he started when there was no reason or need to.

He knew unlike before, he has turned dangerously conscious of Lunark, ever since he fell asleep due to minor immunity he had grown to the wolfsbane tonic and thus fell victim to a nasty show of effigy by the Dark Spear.

Even now, thinking about Lunark was all it took for his heart to pump blood in an all-so-strange way.

‘Get a grip, Frankenstein. What are you, a teenage boy with a crush?’

Aaaand I just had to come up with such metaphor.

Frankenstein violently raked through his hair, his fingers not quite gentle.

His intention was to pacify the turmoil in his head, but his hands ended up whipping up a storm out of the said turmoil.

Even without her presence, he is busy fidgeting and tap-dancing and off-balancing himself.

So he doubted he could handle his tasks as he had used to once he is actually at her presence.

It was impossible to either shun Lunark or have another werewolf replace her as Muzaka’s secret agent.

Even Garda, Muzaka’s oldest follower, is in the dark regarding this secret deal for the sake of security and peace of wolfkind. Who knows what will happen if there is at least one more shareholder in this secret project?

Most importantly, this secret deal is not altogether unrelated to the Union, and the only werewolf who has been in direct affiliation with Union is Lunark, which means there is no legitimate excuse for Frankenstein to veto her participation.

As Frankenstein shook his head and added a huge chunk of air from his lungs into the atmosphere, from his computers came a barking noise signaling an incoming transmission, causing him to jump.

Once he checked the origin of transmission, he deliberated for a moment whether he should pretend there is no one home. Because whoever it was that was requesting his time, there was no doubt this caller was a werewolf.

Nevertheless, he knew there is no way he can play deaf to this call; after all, he was the one who willingly provided werewolves with his coordinates, in case they have any hint on Blood Stone that he could find useful.

The only thing he could do, therefore, was to pray to all deities and powers he could think of to please let it not be Lunark who demands him at the moment.

Much to his relief, his prayer was answered in a good way.

<It’s been a long time.>

A werewolf with very familiar physique and countenance nodded at him in the monitor, and Frankenstein almost let himself betray his relief.

“What is it? Is there trouble?”

Kentas very effectively destroyed the vortex of unease in Frankenstein’s head.

This was what the latter has been dreading all this time.

“Union. Of course they would seek retaliation. Is everyone alright? How many visitors did you have?”

“No need to be so considerate about my anxiety level. We all know the top-tiered fighters in Union are gone, but I doubt eight invaders from Union had left no scar upon your land.”

Frankenstein was about to frown, when Kentas’s expression, too calm and even innocent to be from someone being considerate, held his muscles.

“How is that possible? Just who were you against?”

Frankenstein was reminded of the 8th Elder that Lunark and Zarga brought to Korea, upon his first encounter with the werewolf woman. And then he was reminded of the two guards that accompanied Aris upon her first entrance to Seoul.

‘Of course, there’s little chance that they are the only models of biological weapons that Union would fabricate out of living humans. But things would be complicated if the ones Kentas is talking about are the identical model to the 8th Elder. That dummy’s intelligence was so horrible I had to think they downgraded it on purpose, but his power was definitely threatening – which is an unbiased evaluation. In fact, his power made me understand how in the world such idiot could call himself an elder like Luna...’

Hold up.

Just why am I thinking about her – again?!

Frankenstein pictured himself slapping his own face with a vicious thwack, before focusing back on Kentas. He could not dare pull it off in real life when he had an audience.

“Listening to you, I can think of a model of modified human. It’s a model that would shoot energy beam from its mouth, with its jaw distinctively designed in a mechanic fashion. Am I right?”

<Exactly. You just pulled out the image from my head.>

“And you say you suffered no damage? Is it safe to assume that means your clan’s defense system has been perfectly recovered?”

<...I wish I could say that, but I’m afraid I cannot, once again.>

Kentas’s shoulders rose and fell as he sighed, and Frankenstein’s intuition signaled there is something not right about this.

And there is a reason that for the past centuries, his intuition has been his deadliest, most faithful weapon.

“But...?”

“Warn you?”

<Yeah. It was like seeing a cobra raising itself with its hood visible towards its enemies.>

“...So who fought them?”

<Me, Dorant, and a couple warriors who happened to be returning from field tasks. And they told me the ones they were against also simply played threat.>

“...And that was it?”

Kentas nodded, and Frankenstein let his eyebrows squeeze his forehead in puzzlement.

‘Weird. This is far from retaliation. It’s like giving a taste of what they could do, to test how well the werewolves can fare as of now.’

But of course, Union has yet to regrow its power, which gives them enough reason not to cause too much hassle with werewolves.

‘If they cause damage too serious for werewolves to give a pass for, the werewolves might pay back with retribution that they cannot handle in their current state. But their ego would not let them just suck their thumbs in waiting until they can return to spotlight, so perhaps they sought to make their enemies remember they are alive. And as of now, that’s the most likely scenario behind this case.’

Nonetheless, Frankenstein was getting an attack from that sort of feeling – the bad feeling that there is something more about this “assault.”

He had his mouth shut as he was drowned in his own thoughts, and Kentas spoke once more.

<Luckily, they found out nothing about what’s going on with our kind right now. Which is a good thing, since we cannot let anything related to QuadraNet leak.>

“Oh, which reminds me, how was the human researcher? Is the QuadraNet good to go?”

Trying his best to ignore a flinch in his chest upon mention of her name, Frankenstein kept his poise.

However, his poise started to crack like an icy lake hit by a rock, upon what Kentas said.

Frankenstein could feel his pupils contract in a speed of light.

Torn between desire for and fear of what is to befall, he waited for Kentas’s explanation, when his monitor flourished with an array of colorful noise and lost transmission.

And that moment Frankenstein’s poise was shattered like an icy lake blasted with a cannon, and the last word from Kentas plunged towards the abyss of his heart like a cannonball in water.

Did Lunark... What?!

‘She’s had plenty of experience in Union, and she’s one of the most powerful warriors that werewolves have. There’s no way she was taken down by the weapons that did not want to fight in the first place. She can take care of herself.’

Yet Kentas decided to bring her up for a reason Frankenstein could not fathom, forcing his heart in a tug-of-war: trust his knowledge about her that it is no big deal and just ignore it, or trust his intuition and find out what it is that Kentas was trying to say.

He paced back and forth in his spot, but it took less than seconds for him to make his choice.

“Goddamn it...!”

Frankenstein found himself in front of 3rd Elder’s bedroom, in a speed he has never exerted in this isle.

Immediately reacting to a frenzied knock, 3rd Elder opened the door.

“What is it...?”

“Something urgent came up, so I must ask you to substitute me for a couple of days.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“No time to explain. Just contact the werewolves if you need me.”

“A-alright.”

Frankenstein trotted back into the corridor, his lab coat still on. As soon as he was outside, he sprinted in full speed across the huge body of water.

His determination not to think about Lunark perfectly forgotten, he could only beg that there is nothing wrong with her.

*****

“A couple of days...? Just what could this be about?”

This is not the first time for either of them to be away from this island, but 3rd Elder has never seen Frankenstein willingly leave for days, with him left behind – an opportunity that he might never find again.

With such ball of gold laid in the palm of his hands, 3rd Elder’s mind was redirected to that one grocery shopping that took place outside, nothing like the ones he had before.

(next chapter)

Yes - next episode will be in the 3rd Elder’s point of view. I took extra care with this episode, so I’m super-excited to finally post it. :D Please stay tuned for more!

#korean webcomic #korean webtoon #fanfic #noblesse #frankenstein #frankensteinxlunark #lunark #wolfsbane

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monstersandmaw · 6 years ago

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Male tiefling x male reader (nsfw)

Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

Here, for your delight and delectation, is Killygren the tiefling, another character from Starfall Springs! See this dashing rogue’s character art and bio info here in case you missed it.

His story has been up on Patreon for a little while, and now it’s time to put it up on here. There’s another Starfall Springs story that’s been up on there too, but you’ll have to wait for that one, featuring an orc.

Halfway through one of the hottest summers on record, you bought a bus ticket and rode it to the end of the line.

Unconventional, unpredictable, and possibly unwise though the decision may have been, you simply snapped and needed a break.

The city was stifling, the traffic overwhelming, and you needed green fields, perhaps some cool, breezy woodland, or the soft caress of an ocean breeze. Starfall Springs, you knew from an advertisement you’d seen on the Underground, had all three. And a huge number of non-human residents as well, which, you had to admit, made you curious.

Your travelling companion on the bus was a very elderly harpy lady who saw that you were travelling alone and proceeded to talk your ear off about the local area as you drew near to the town. In fact you didn’t mind because she was actually quite interesting and very sweet.

“That’s Jaime’s farm,” she said, nodding out of the dusty window at an old farmhouse in the distance, surrounded by open pasture. There was a round-pen for training horses, and a number of horses were standing in the shade of some huge beech trees beside a field of sheep and goats and another with a small herd of russet red cows. “He’s a sweetheart,” she said, but you had begun to tune the rest of it out by then. The lilting movements of the bus, and the warmth in the air, made you feel slightly sleepy, and it was hard to focus on her voice.

Eventually, you helped her off the bus and inhaled deeply. Already the air was different here; fresher, sharper despite the haze of pollen in the air. She thanked you for being “Such a polite young man,” and made her way off along the banks of the fast-flowing river which carved through the centre of the old collection of buildings.

Alone once again, you decided to head off towards the wide, paved market square in front of you. Stall holders yelled and called jovially, selling everything from fresh fish and meat to summer produce, cakes, handmade goods, knives, and even little witchy charms. You caught sight of a palomino centaur selling cider and apple juice, apple jelly, apple compote, and even dried apple crisps, and beside her was an orc wearing an apron which bore the logo of a local dairy. His stall had the most amazing array of different cheeses, and you paused long enough to be offered a free sample.

“Visitor?” he asked jovially.

You nodded. “Yeah, just thought I’d make an escape from the city for the day. Maybe even for the weekend…”

“Well, if you need a place to stay, Killy’s inn - the Inglenook over there - is great,” he said, pointing towards an old timber-framed building on the far side of the market square.

“Thanks,” you grinned.

The orc smiled back at you, and you marvelled at how open and friendly everyone seemed here, unlike the city where the majority of inhabitants were human, and they seemed singularly morose and unfriendly.

You wandered through the market for a while, your rucksack bashing uncomfortably against your back, until you came to the far side of the open plaza. Down the length of the main road out of the small town of Starfall Springs, you glimpsed the rolling countryside beyond. Gods, but it was idyllic.

The hills in the furthest distance were raked with lines of grapevines, the terracotta roofs of the vineyard buildings glowing in the heat of the summer sunshine, and a few miles away there looked to be a vast fruit orchard. Heat haze marred any real details, so you turned away and made your way back into the town, winding your way down cool, narrow, ancient streets where any number of little shops were tucked away, from antique stores to craft shops, some with pottery and ceramics made locally, to small greengrocers.

You emerged at the other end of town near the duck pond and you paused a moment in the cool shade of the poplar trees and gazed into the murky depths. A bubbling near the far edge drew your attention, and you stared, astonished, as a horse’s head surfaced from the murky water. The horse heaved itself out of the water at the opposite edge of the pond, duckweed and little water flowers clinging to its greenish-black coat and studding its flowing black mane. It shook itself and you continued to stare openly as it trotted off towards the temple which stood not far away from this end of town, in the middle of an open meadow.

“What the…?” you breathed, realising it must be some kind of water spirit, probably a kelpie. That just wasn’t the kind of thing you saw everyday in the city though; there were very few places left which were pure and unpolluted enough for creatures like that to survive. As if to drive home the point, a tiny, glowing fairy zipped past your face, laughing and trailing a wake of sparkling dust behind them that made you sneeze and take a step back. Wherever the dust hit, the plants turned a violent pink for a few seconds before fading and returning to their usual hues.

As enchanting as the whole place was, eventually your stomach started to rumble, and you looked about for somewhere to eat. Perhaps you might even get a cheeky lunchtime pint while you were at it. It was a weekend after all.

Back in the central marketplace, you saw the old, traditional pub sign of the Inglenook swinging slightly as a breeze sighed around the square. The orc’s recommendation from earlier floated back into your mind, and you decided that you’d pop in and see what it looked like at least. You didn’t have to commit yourself to staying there if you didn’t want to.

The inside was tastefully decorated, with both traditional and modern features, though the bar at the far end was a very old fashioned, high pub bar, with a huge number of beers and ales on tap, and a vast array of spirits displayed on the wall behind.

Tables dotted the bar area, and the place was packed. You sighed, thinking it’d take ages for you to be served, and were on the verge of turning round and finding a quiet cafe somewhere else when the shattering of a glass made you halt.

You glanced around, drawn by the noise, and saw a beautiful tiefling standing beside the bar, as if he’d been about to come around the end of it and go to a table with a drink. At his dark blue, cloven hooves lay the scattered remnants of a glass tankard, foam and beer spreading in a wide pool around him. And, improbably, his eyes were locked on you.

Well, one eye was locked on you. The other was covered by an elegant sash of cloth. His long hair was a very dark blue-black, tied back in a low ponytail, and his skin - flawless save for a pale scar that bisected his mouth from upper lip to chin - was a dusty, cornflower blue. There was no white sclera to the visible eye, and the iris was an intense, fiery gold, with a slit, catlike pupil, while his left eye was covered by a sash of Tyrian purple silk with gold thread here and there, as if to accentuate the colour of his right eye.

After a second or two of staring dumbly at you as if you were some long-lost friend, the tall, slender tiefling shook his horned head, and seemed to come to his senses. A faun appeared from behind the bar with a cloth and a dustpan and brush and told him to step back while they swept up the mess.

You turned to go, not wanting to linger, despite feeling there was something going on that you’d missed. A few patrons were looking from the tiefling to you and back again, but most had either ignored the incident or returned to their lunchtime chatter.

You’d barely made it to the door before you felt a soft tap on your bicep and you glanced around to see that the tiefling had come over to you. This close up, you took in the beautiful horns that curled first backwards over his thin, tapering ears and then up towards his forehead again. The left horn ended in a gold tip and you saw tiny gold hoops flashing at his earlobes too. He was a bit taller than you, and you swallowed nervously. He was stunningly handsome, and apart from the fact that you’d never been with a non-human before, he was exactly your type.

He smiled, showing sharp, white canines and a warm smile with little dimples in his chiselled cheeks. “Hi,” he said in a warm baritone. “I’m sorry about all that just now,” he went on, waving a hand and you caught the sparkle of silver on his fingers too. “Listen, to make up for being such an ass, how about I let you have some lunch and a drink on the house?” He had an airy, lyrical, lilting accent that reminded you, for absolutely no reason at all, of summer evenings and mayflies dancing over still water.

“Really, you don’t have to do that,” you said, perplexed. “I mean…”

He smiled again and stretched out his hand in a more formal greeting. His were those beautiful kind of hands with everything in the right proportion, the dusky blue skin flecked with intriguing scars here and there, and the sight of it suddenly, strangely, made you ache to feel his touch. Things had become a bit lonely in the city, and you raised your own hand and shook his.

The skin of his palm was smooth and callused, but warm, and he held you firmly for a moment and then grinned, “My name’s Killy. Well, Killygren, no one except my mother calls me that, and I’d thank you not to use it…” he chuckled. “It’s hot out there today - let’s get you a drink at the very least…”

“I don’t understand,” you murmured.

He laughed again, a free, musical sound, and winked. “I was so struck by the sight of you, I dropped that one and made a fool of myself. We don’t get a lot of humans passing through Starfall Springs you know, and I know all of the regulars.” He jutted his sharp chin at a distant corner where an orc and a young woman were deep in conversation, their hands linked. “She was the last one to arrive. Inherited a run-down old farm not too far from town.”

“The way you speak makes it seem like the humans who do come tend to stay…”

He winked again and turned back towards the bar. He had a tail, you noted, and it hung elegantly behind him like a panther’s as he walked, hips swaying slightly, hooves clonking lightly on the wooden floorboards of the old pub. It was only then that you remembered the name that the orc had said, and realised that this must be his pub.

Emboldened, you followed him to the bar and set your rucksack down at the foot of one of the worn old bar-stools, and clambered up onto it.

“Will you let me guess your favourite?” he grinned from behind the bar.

You frowned slightly, but then allowed a slow smile to creep across your lips. “Alright.”

The faun, who had finished clearing up the shattered glass, looked up and giggled. He had a nest of golden curls and the brightest blue eyes you’d ever seen, his cheekbones smattered with a myriad freckles. “Don’t encourage him,” he said, shaking his head and making his wavy hair toss this way and that. “He’s incorrigible, and he rarely gets it wrong… Must be that tiefling magic…”

Killy did not look away from your face for a while, and you thought you saw a faintly glowing light through the fabric of the sash covering his eye, but it was gone in a heartbeat, and you chalked it up to mild heat-stroke or dehydration or something.

As if he’d read your mind, Killy said, “Well, first things first, a pint of water for the gentleman, but after that…” he made a show of stroking his chin with his long fingers.

“Like you don’t already know,” the faun snickered. “Just serve it to him and stop flirting.”

Your cheeks heated slightly, but the reaction was welcome enough, as was the attention.

Killy clutched his heart and shook his head. “I’m hurt, Dizzy. I’m hurt.”

The faun, presumably named ‘Dizzy’, thwapped him round the backside with a damp tea towel and retreated to take another customer’s order.

When Killy turned his attention back to you a few moments later, with, yes, what just so happened to be your favourite drink in his hand, he was still laughing softly. “I'm sorry about him,” he said, sliding your glass across the bar. “So, how’d I do?”

“The hype is well-founded, it seems.”

He fist-pumped playfully and turned back to the faun, sticking his tongue out at him - it was dark blue, you were surprised to see - and then turning back to you. “So, what brings you to Starfall Springs?”

“You can’t work that out as well?” you asked, somewhat acerbically, sipping the drink and trying not to show just how much you liked it.

He made a slightly odd expression, somewhere between strained and embarrassed, and said, “I could, I’m sure, but I’d rather hear it from you.”

You snorted, but soon found yourself telling the tiefling everything. You felt stuck in your job, your social and sex life was stagnating, you’d not had a decent boyfriend in years, and that morning you’d felt like a change of scene would be a good thing. “So I bought a bus ticket, and here I am.”

“And here you are,” he murmured softly. Killy listened to the whole thing. He’d sunk quietly onto a stool on his side of the bar, leaned his elbows on the counter top, and had listened; really listened. You’d not had anyone do this for you since… well… not even your brief stint at the therapist had been this cathartic. You found your hand resting on the ancient, beer-stained wood of the bar, tracing idle circles with your fingertip, and you noticed how close his fingers were to yours.

“Tell me something?” you asked bluntly after your third or fourth drink.

“Anything for you, handsome,” he grinned back. Coming from anyone else, that line would have been nauseating, but the way he said it, with that flippant, light-heartedness just made it seem somehow astonishingly sincere.

“How’d you know this was my favourite?” you said. “And how’d you get so good at listening?”

“I know things,” he said with melodrama in his one visible eye.

“No,” you countered, “No, that’s not…”

He chuckled and gripped your hand. The touch was so sudden, so unexpected that you let out a little moan that was way more sexual than you’d intended.

Killy only smiled and reached both hands up to undo the sash around his face. His long, blue-black hair was tied back off his stupidly handsome face in a low ponytail, and as he dislodged it to untie the covering, you felt the urge to touch it and run your hands through it, maybe even grip it and tug it. Your fingers twitched, but you remained still as he revealed the other half of his face.

“I don’t show just anyone this,” he said conspiratorially. “This eye was a special gift from someone who shall remain nameless at the moment, but it lets me see all sorts of things.”

You snorted, but then you looked at him anew.

He just laughed and you stared openly at his now-revealed left eye. A perfect, black pentagram hung in the middle of a glowing, ice blue iris, ringed with two black outer circles. It was unusual to say the least.

You leaned closer, fascinated. “That’s… kind of…”

“Gross?” he said. “Unnerving?”

“I was just gonna go with ‘cool’…” you finished rather lamely. “Why do you keep it covered?”

He shrugged and wrapped it up again. “I don’t always want to be poking into people’s business, you know? That way it helps reduce the ‘unexpected visions’ factor. Though when you walked in, I got an eyeful - quite literally - of you and me.”

“Wait… like…” you gestured vaguely and he laughed.

Killy leaned across the bar and whispered right in your ear, his breath tingling, “I mean, I can give you specifics.”

“Go on then,” you said, feeling oddly bold.

Without preamble, he murmured, “I saw me with my mouth around your cock…”

“Holy shit…”

He shrugged and drew back. “I’ve never had that with anyone, by the way. Must be something special about you.”

“You sure you don’t say that to all the boys?” you sneered.

Something softened in his face and he leaned back. “It’s not set in stone, you know? You can still say no. But something must be keeping you here. You’ve been here all afternoon. It’s getting late, and the last bus back to the city leaves in half an hour.”

“Shit.”

“You can still catch it if you leave now.”

The moment hung heavily between you, but one look at the way his sharp Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed got you thinking about him swallowing your release, and you felt heat pool between your legs. “What the hell,” you said. “I’m leaving tomorrow.”

“That’s the spirit,” he said with open bitterness in his voice, turning away from the bar. “You’ll have to wait til I’m done working though.”

“Fuck, that’s not what I meant,” you hastened to add. “Look, you know my whole life’s story now. You know this was a spur of the moment trip - something I’d never normally have done. It feels… I don’t know… right?”

The corner of Killy’s mouth, near the vertical scar, twitched, and he smiled. “Drink some water. I’ll be done in an hour.”

You watched him work from a quiet corner of the bar, and you definitely sobered up a fair bit in that time. Not that you’d been necessarily drunk, but something about the atmosphere had gone a long way to helping you release your inhibitions. With the water in your system, you started to note the way Killy behaved a bit more closely. He was attentive with his customers, quiet and patient, and you couldn’t help noticing from your new vantage point that he rested one hock slightly against the other whenever he paused to hear someone speak. His eyes constantly darted around, and he had a nervous habit of playing with his right earring when someone lingered too long or got too close.

His trousers were loose linen, cuffed tight around his elegant, almost cervine ankles, and but from what you could see, his legs were hairless. He was not built like a faun, despite having the hooves.

Eventually he washed his hands and swapped shifts with a huge minotaur who came in and high-fived him as he left. Killy glanced around the bar and then spotted where you had parked yourself, and he smiled.

“You’re still here,” he said when he had drawn level with your table.

Your mouth was still dry from watching the way he had dropped his shoulders in relief and the elegant way in which he had walked over to you, hips swaying softly as though he wore heels. You croaked. “Yeah.”

“Look, just because I saw one future possibility… I really mean it. You don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

“No strings attached, right?”

“Absolutely.”

“Ok.”

“Just like that?”

“No,” you said, shaking your head. “I’ve had a couple of pints of water and an hour to think it over. Why can’t I have something that’s still meaningful with a complete stranger?”

His lips twitched again. “Right. C’mon.”

He led you upstairs, his hooves clunking softly on the bare wooden tread of the staircase, and into a very humble bedroom at the top of the old pub. A double bed occupied one wall but the sloping ceiling took out practically half of the other side of the room. A little free-standing wardrobe stood against the far end, and a pair of low bookcases stood on either side of the bed, doubling as beside tables with little lamps. It was surprisingly spartan for such an apparently flashy tiefling.

As you dumped your bag in the corner, you looked at him in surprise and he smiled softly, standing so close you could smell the soft scent of jasmine on his long hair. He had a freckle on his cheekbone. Your eyes drifted to the scars on his lip, and you wondered where he’d got them from. Before you could ask, he was kissing you. He began slowly, hesitantly, but something about the way he treated you made you ache for more.

Blood pooled in your groin and you felt your cock stir as his hands took hold of your jaw and he groaned. He had a slight shadow along his own jaw and you relished the rasp of it against your skin. He pressed his body close, his hips rearing against yours, and you grunted softly as you felt the hardening line of his cock against your hips.

Killy backed you against the closed door and as the air left your lungs with another softly articulated grunt, his fingers found their way to your waistband. He glanced at you and saw the acceptance in your face before continuing. He let your jeans fall to the floor and he freed your cock, stroking it slowly, apparently enjoying the feeling of wrapping his hand around it, getting to know the way you felt in his hand.

He stroked you, working you slowly, luxuriantly, while your knees felt like they were going to turn to water. “Killy,” you hissed, and he caught your meaning.

You stepped out of your jeans and abandoned them, allowing him to pull you over towards the bed and push you down onto it. The tent in his own soft trousers was obvious now, and you reached your hand for it, intending to palm him briefly and tease him, but he grabbed your wrist and placed it back on the bed as he tipped you expertly down onto your back.

He took your shirt off and let his palms play over your torso. As much as you may have been underwhelmed by your own body, he seemed to relish the chance to touch it. He lingered on your collarbones and on your nipples, even lowering his lips to them and kissing you over and over while his hands painted slow circles over your lower torso and hips, down towards your thighs.

“Fuck, Killy… please!” you grunted as your cock pulsed again, printing pre-come onto your skin. You felt like your skin was a size too small all over as he trailed a fingertip down the line between thigh and hips, dangerously close to your sensitive balls. “Fuck! Stop teasing me!”

He laughed and took you by surprise by lapping the tip of his dark tongue against the head of your cock, tasting you. His one visible eye rolled closed at the taste of you, and in one swift motion he licked his lips and took you all the way to the back of his throat.

As your tip hit the silky soft flesh of his throat, you gasped and cursed.

He closed his fingers around the base of your cock as he withdrew, keeping his cheeks hollowed, and he began to suck. The heat and slide of his mouth over your hard cock was incredible, and he clearly enjoyed the feeling too.

He was as clever with his hands as he was with his lips and tongue. Killy worked your cock with his mouth, alternating between long, regular strokes and teasing sucks and licks around the head of your cock, just sliding you in and out of his lips before dipping his head and letting you hit the back of his throat again. Time slid by, but all too soon you were shuddering on the edge of release.

“Killy…” you hissed. “I’m…”

White heat built rapidly and you knew you were very close.

He sucked just a little harder, his fingertips tracing just behind your balls, and you came hard into his mouth. He swallowed you down without breaking eye contact with you.

The intensity of your release had taken you somewhat by surprise.

Sure, it had been a while since someone had blown you, but still, the way he’d lavished attention on you had been something else. He stayed there while your cock throbbed and leaked the last drops of your release onto his tongue, only drawing back and licking his lips when you had completely finished.

“Did the vision live up to reality?” you finally rasped as you lay back, slightly dazed.

He smiled. “You don’t want to know what else I just saw…”

“Something tells me I might enjoy it?” you hedged. “Just… gimme a minute…”

Killy lay down on his back, still fully clothed, and smiled, glancing sideways at you. “I’m yours for the night.”

************************************

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#exophilia #tiefling #male tiefling #mlm #mlm exophilia #male reader #male monster x male reader

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