#my head is foggy
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dem0batz · 2 months ago
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Today’s a bed day. I think I’ve been pushing myself too hard over the past week.
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zennyzach · 2 years ago
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im actively dying
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starfleetsxvulcan · 11 months ago
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// Pardon my absence. I have been taking a new pain medication and it's left me a bit woozy but hopefully my body gets more used to it.
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nachtwandeling · 2 years ago
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Therapy: going for a bike ride when it’s pitch black dark outside. Through the meadows and rural areas
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dont-offend-the-bees · 3 months ago
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I Got Sunshine in a Bag
Something else a bit different today! I had a different fic idea, but when I started writing it it was already becoming a bit long and involved and tbh, I had such a busy/painy week last week that I really had to cut back on the fic time! So I whipped this one together in my phone notes app instead, short 'n sweet. It's audio script format-ish, which is something I like to play with sometimes. Very much skimping on the detail/sound design though as I really just wanted focus on the dialogue and get something out today! 1.2, T-rated, also available on Ao3. Thanks again, @painlandweek!
Silence. A hollow, echoing emptiness, broken by slow, deliberate breathing. Then, muffled as if from the other side of a wall, a voice:
EDWIN: Charles?
Beat.
EDWIN: Charles, where are you?
Another beat. Then, a clearer voice, hoarse and weary:
CHARLES: In here.
EDWIN: ... Oh. In the…?
CHARLES: Yeah.
EDWIN: I see.
Beat.
EDWIN: May I… come in?”
CHARLES: ...Yeah.
EDWIN: Right.
Fabric rustles.
EDWIN: Ah, if you wouldn’t mind…?
CHARLES: Oh, yeah, yeah. Here. Grab my hand.
Leather squeaks against leather. More rustling, and some slight huffing. The barrier breaks, and Edwin's voice returns clear and close.
EDWIN: Thank you. Hm. Have you redecorated?
CHARLES: Shoved some stuff around.
EDWIN: It’s very… homely.
CHARLES: (chuckles) Cheers.
Silence again, this time with two sets of breathing. Then, the slight creak of a weight sinking down onto leather cushions.
EDWIN: Charles. Are you… alright? You disappeared in quite a hurry.
CHARLES: 'M fine.
EDWIN: ...
CHARLES: Stop lookin’ at me like that.
EDWIN: Like what?
CHARLES: Like... (laughs) Like you can see right through me.
EDWIN: (lightly) I’ve no idea what you mean.
CHARLES: Right.
Beat.
CHARLES: I… I panicked. A bit.
EDWIN: Whatever for?
Beat.
CHARLES: ... You ever have to say something, or like, wanna say something, yeah, but… but you know once you say it, things’ll be different, and it’s fucking terrifying so instead you just… don’t?
EDWIN: I am… familiar with that anxiety, yes. But if there’s something you want to say to me, Charles, I promise I’ll do my utmost to take it in good faith. You need not fear repercussions. I don’t imagine there’s much you could tell me that would change my opinion of you.
CHARLES: I know. I don’t — I don’t even think things'll be bad different. If anything they’ll be good different. Great different. I’m just a proper coward.
Edwin tuts.
EDWIN: Charles. You are a great many things, but a coward is not one of them.
Charles chuckles, quietly. Edwin follows suit.
EDWIN: Hm. Now. Will you say what you wish to say?
Leather creaks, fabric rustles.
CHARLES: Edwin?
EDWIN: Yes, Charles?
CHARLES: You know I… I love you. Yeah?
EDWIN: What a question. Yes, Charles. I know that you love me. I’ve about thirty years of anecdotal evidence to the fact.
CHARLES: No — I mean, yeah, but what I'm tryna say is…
EDWIN: ?
CHARLES: You know I’m… I’m in love with you. Yeah?
Beat.
EDWIN: ...Oh.
CHARLES: Mm.
EDWIN: That is… a revelation.
CHARLES: News to me too, mate.
EDWIN: How long have you…?
CHARLES: Known? Not long. Week or so. How long have I loved you? Fuck, I don’t even… now that I know it’s there, it. It feels like it’s always been there. Know what I mean?
EDWIN: ... Yes. Yes, Charles. I most assuredly do.
Beat. Charles laughs, breathless.
CHARLES: Bloody hell. This is terrifying. How’d you just come out with this, when you thought of it?
EDWIN: There was some deliberation, believe it or not. I didn’t just declare my undying love to you on a whim.
CHARLES: Oh, so you planned it for the run from Hell, then?
EDWIN: There may have been some… last minute amendments to the plan. An element of improvisation, perhaps, when things seemed dire. One must adapt to changing circumstances. But there was a plan. I even dressed for the occasion, if you recall.
CHARLES: Wait. You got all dressed up for me?
EDWIN: Yes. Certainly took you long enough to notice.
CHARLES: Fuck. You were gonna tell me, weren't you? Before...
EDWIN: Before we were interrupted? Yes. And then I had no idea we would both make it out in one piece, and I... had to speak off the cuff.
CHARLES: (laughs) You’re proper mad. And just… just brave. Never met no one as brave as you, Eds.
EDWIN: (softly) Nor I you.
CHARLES: Pfft. Had to scurry off into a little hidey hole and have a panic before I even got up the guts to tell you.
EDWIN: But you did tell me.
CHARLES: ... Yeah. (laughs) Yeah, s’pose I did, didn’t I?
EDWIN: Charles?
CHARLES: Yeah?
EDWIN: May I kiss you, now?
CHARLES: Oh, Christ, yeah.
Kissing sounds, soft, tentative. Then a break, mutual heavy breathing.
EDWIN: ...Well.
CHARLES: Wow.
EDWIN: I’ve… wanted to do that for quite some time.
CHARLES: Me too. And I had no sodding idea. (laughs) How thick can you get?
EDWIN: Do stop being self-deprecating and kiss me again.
CHARLES: Now that, I can do.
Kissing again, louder, more intent.
EDWIN: Mmm…
CHARLES: God. (kiss) I love you. (kiss) I love you. (laughs) I fucking love you!
EDWIN: You don’t have to keep saying it.
CHARLES: Say it as many times as I bloody like, mate. ‘Specially if you keep grinning at me like that.
EDWIN: (chuckles) You’ve rather shown me up. I’ve only said it once, so far.
CHARLES: Got some catching up to do then, don’t you?
EDWIN: Mmm. (kiss) I love you.
CHARLES: Yeah? Still?
Beat.
EDWIN: (sarcastically)... No, Charles. I loved you for thirty years but I got bored of waiting for you to say it back after six months(!) Yes, I still bloody love you.
CHARLES: Just checking. Give us another kiss?
EDWIN: Well. If you insist.
More kissing, rustling fabric. Leather creaking, soft sighs.
EDWIN: Hm… Charles?
CHARLES: (dazed) Yeah, love?
EDWIN: Something’s, ah… something appears to be prodding me in the stomach...
CHARLES: What? Um… Oh! (chuckles) Forgot I had that.
A loud cascade of rattles.
CHARLES: ... What? (laughs) Don’t mean I’m not happy to see you.
EDWIN: Why on Earth do you have… what looks to be an authentic Aboriginal rainstick on your sofa?
CHARLES: Well. Never know when you might need one, do you?
Another chorus of rattles and a hollow wooden thump.
EDWIN: Naturally. Come to think of it, how did you even get this sofa in here?
CHARLES: It’s one of them flatpack types. Put the bits in, assembled it in here. Pretty straightforward.
EDWIN: Yes, but more to the point: why?
CHARLES: So I can… have panic attacks and snog fit boys on it?
EDWIN: Bring many fit boys back here, do you?
CHARLES: Nah. (quick kiss) Saving it for the best.
EDWIN: (dryly) How romantic.
CHARLES: Take you somewhere bit nicer for the second date. Promise.
EDWIN: Oh, it wasn't a complaint. Who wouldn’t wish to have a romantic tryst in a backpack?
CHARLES: Magic backpack. C’mon, now, be fair.
EDWIN: Very well, in a magic backpack.
CHARLES: I could do it up a bit more. Get some nice candles.
EDWIN: Lit candles? Is that wise?
CHARLES: Well, I’ve already got some lit molotov cocktails stashed over there somewhere.
Beat.
CHARLES: What? They don’t go off or anything. Time doesn’t really work the same in here. Saves me having to light ‘em in a hurry, don’t it?
EDWIN: Next you’ll be telling me you have them stored next to the gunpowder.
CHARLES: ...
EDWIN: Charles.
CHARLES: Demolition section, innit?
EDWIN: Charles.
CHARLES: (chuckles) Alright, alright. I’ll do a re-shuffle.
EDWIN: Thank you. Hm…
CHARLES: What? (fondly) You’ve got your scheming face on.
EDWIN: I was merely thinking a throw pillow or two might brighten this place up nicely.
CHARLES: Making yourself at home, are you?
EDWIN: Objections?
CHARLES: Nope.
EDWIN: Good. Now, I know we haven’t a floor so much as a nebulous, void-like expanse, but how do you feel about area rugs?
CHARLES: (laughs) Fuck. C'mere, you.
Kissing, gentle sighs and soft giggles fill the echoing expanse of the pocket dimension.
~~
Thank you so much for reading, do drop in and say hi in the reblogs/replies, I really love hearing from you! 💛 Should be a fic tomorrow that I'm pretty emo about, but it needs a little sprucing up first! Painland Week Prompt List
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love-and-monsters · 10 months ago
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The Pit and the Serpent
M Naga X GN reader, 11047 words
Content warning: discussions of rape/sexual coercion, sexual coercion described with minimal detail, descriptions of a cult.
You have been sentenced to death. You are going to be fed to the beast in the pit. Unless, of course, the beast does not eat the ones given to it.
Sweat beaded on the back of your neck as you took another trembling step forward. A knife sat against the small of your back. The threat wasn’t that they would kill you- they didn’t have to. A quick slice to the small of your back would have your legs useless. They could leave you to die, limp and pathetic, at the claws of the creature in the pen. The only reason they hadn’t done it at all was that it was a lot less work to have you walk than to drag your limp body in.
The pen loomed in front of you. It wasn’t much of a pen, to be honest. It was more of a pit, with barbed wire fence surrounding it. People didn’t approach it- in fact, there isn’t anyone within a hundred feet. Just you and the soldier nudging you ever closer.
As soon as you were past the gate, the soldier slammed it shut and stepped back, almost a scramble. There was no reason for him to be near you anymore. There was only a tiny strip of land surrounding the dropoff of the pit, and you couldn’t climb back out over the fence thanks to the barbed wire. You probably couldn’t even if there wasn’t barbed wire. You’d never been athletic.
You hunched down on the little area you had, knees tucked close to your chest to avoid the drop. No limbs dangling. The image of letting an arm or leg hang over the opening and something grabbing you, like a monster under the bed, rose in your mind.
You sat on the edge of the pit all throughout the scorching afternoon, dripping sweat into a small puddle in the dirt below you. The sun set and the chill of night against your sweaty skin made you shiver. The thing in the pit hadn’t moved. Was it nocturnal? You’d never seen a feeding before. Maybe you should have. Maybe that would have discouraged you from-
The thing in the pit moved. You heard it shifting before you saw it, the great shadow twisting and slinking until a tendril of it was lifting out of the pit and stretching slowly toward you. You scrambled back until the barbed wire dug into your skin, uncaring of exactly how rusty it was. Of course it didn’t matter. You were going to die, right now, and a little tetanus hardly compared to exactly how this thing was going to rip you to shreds.
Its head dropped into your line of sight, close enough that you could make out some features despite the lack of light. You stared. You had been expecting a mouth- they called it a feeding, after all. Not strange at all to imagine you were about to be eaten. And there was a mouth. It was just attached to a human face. Which was attached to a human head. Which was attached to a human torso. Which was not attached to human hips, but to the body of an enormous snake. Like, a huge snake. Like, at-least-40-feet-long snake.
It yawned. Fangs, long and thin, just where canines would be in a human mouth, glinted in the faint moonlight. Then it slumped downward, flopping to rest its torso on the edge of the pit right next to you.
It blinked at you. The light was dim enough that you couldn’t see the color of its eyes, but the white gleaming in the moonlight told you it was staring right at you. “Hello there.”
You stared back. He didn’t seem like he was going to eat you. He didn’t seem big enough to eat you. You’d been expecting an enormous snake mouth, something appropriate for the enormous thing, something that could swallow you whole. But this was… well, the person-part of the snake was bigger thana typical human, but not by that much. Its mouth was far too small to eat you effectively. Then again, you were smaller than a cow, and you ate those, so perhaps the creature was simply going to drag you into its pit and eat you little by little. You hoped it killed you quickly, at least- getting slowly eaten seemed like the worst possible way to die.
“You aren’t much of a talker, are you,” the serpent groused. His mass of coils shifted slowly, undulating in the pit beneath. You couldn’t make out the individual coils with the distance and the darkness- it just looked like a shifting, twisting mass. The serpent moved closer, practically hovering in front of you, using his muscular trunk as support. “Ain’t much to look at, are ya?” He spoke in a drawling, lazy tone. “Can’t imagine ya did anything impressive to get stuck in here. Are they finally chucking the dissidents down here instead of shoving them into the reeducation work prison?”
“Thievery.” You forced the word up through your dry throat and mouth. The serpent fixed his gaze back on you. “I- I took something that wasn’t mine to take.”
“Huh.” He slumped back to the ground next to you, propping his chin up on his fist. “Why?”
You ground your teeth. “He… took something from me, first. So, I wanted to take something from him. But I got caught.”
The serpent nodded. “A little thief, then? I suppose they would throw you in here for that.”
You eyed him as he stretched. The question was stupid, but you couldn’t help yourself from asking it. “Aren’t you going to eat me?”
He was mid-yawn when you asked, and blinked one eye open to look at you. “Am I supposed to?”
You paused. Everyone called it a ‘feeding’ when people were put in the pit. People who went for feedings were never seen again. What else was happening expect for them being eaten? “I think so.”
“Perhaps,” he said, “I’m not hungry today.” He slumped back toward the pit, slinking down and vanishing in the mass of his own coils.
You stared. And shivered. Your sweat was still drying on your skin in the chilly night air and the hot terror was fading. The creature had emerged from the pit, you’d had a pleasant (if you stretched the definition of the word) chat, and then it had left.
That was… not what was supposed to happen. You’d seen people be taken away to the pit- you’d never seen them actually go in, of course, the pit was nearly three hours away from the town by walking, and you’d never had reason to go in a car until today. Yesterday. Was it past midnight? They never came back. Did the creature ever eat anyone? It must, or they wouldn’t have bothered with the pit at all. They could just shoot people. Or stab them, if wasted bullets were a concern. Why go through the whole rigamarole of taking people out here and then leaving them alive for the creature if it didn’t eat them?
But if it did eat them, why hadn’t it eaten you?
It got late for a while, and then it was so late that it looped around to being early. The sun started to stretch thin tendrils of light over the horizon. Your stomach growled. You had to pee. Your legs were cramping from being in the same position for so long. Were the guards going to come back? Did they come back for the prisoners, if only to see if there were any bones or limbs left? Or were you just trapped out here until you died of thirst or the creature decided it was hungry after all and ate you?
(It had better hurry the hell up, you decided. If it waited until you died of natural causes, t would probably have a tough, unpleasant meal. Your somewhat-delirious mind found that idea funny.)
It was less funny when a hand wrapped around your ankle and hauled you bodily toward the pit.
The entire thing was fast. One second you were registering the warm hand on your skin, and the next you were being dragged down a slope. You caught a glimpse of your captor’s face, too dark to make out expressions, before you were hauled under a mass of coils.
They weren’t cold to the touch, though they weren’t warm, either. You could feel the ridges of the scales, each one nearly the size of your palm. It was heavy, a weight that nearly knocked the breath out of you, though their constant shifting helped lessen that impact. It wasn’t crushing, though, and you could feel the hard-packed dirt under your back. Strange. You would have thought they’d be coiling around you to crush you. Even just being underneath them, you could tell they were powerful enough to do it. You could feel the power of the muscles just from minute movements alone.
“Stop panicking!” The voice came a lot closer to your ear than you’d expected and you struck out. Maybe he’d been expecting it, because your first hit a wall of scaly flesh.’ “I ain’t gonna hurt ya, if you don’t try to hurt me again.”
You stopped moving. The serpent huffed out a breath, and you felt the edges of it against your… temple, on your right side. He was partially concealed by one of his own coils, but he was there. “Sorry for the delay, sweetcheeks. Woulda taken you down here right away, but we’ve had some problems recently. Delays. You’ll find out soon, anyway.”
You didn’t understand, but bemoaning that lack of understanding seemed like the worst possible move at the moment. Instead, you flipped onto your stomach and started army crawling back toward the wall of the pit. The coils were heavy, but not crushing, at least not at the moment. You were going to crawl and get out of the pit, and what you were going to do then could be decided after you got out.
“Woah.” The hand was on your back now, having gotten a fistful of your shirt. Well, it was more of a dress-tunic than a shirt, one of the ones that was both oversized and stretched, and made more out of patches than material. They could have made you go into the pit naked, but you suspected that this made a convenient excuse to get rid of something no one really wanted. You thrashed against the grip and, sure enough, the tunic ripped with ease. Before you could continue your mad crawl, the hand managed to lock around your calf. “Woah, woah! Where do ya think you’re going?”
You try to continue forward at the pace of a determined slug. The hand on your leg is doing a good job of hindering that, though. “Quit freaking out! Sorry I scared ya, but I said before, I ain’t gonna hurt ya, so stop it!”
In fairness, he wasn’t hurting you at that moment. He could have, certainly- his coils could have crushed you by weight alone, if he’d dropped them on you, but he just lay them across your path, effectively blocking your way unless you wanted to crawl over him. The hand around your calf remained firm, a grip tight enough to almost bruise, but not vicious. More like he was just desperate to keep you from squirming away.
Surrounded by coils of snake and held fast by the grip on your leg, you finally went still. You were flat on your stomach, so the dust, of course, immediately went up your nose and you snorted out an awkward sneeze. The serpent’s human part moved forward, almost hovering over you, suspended by its muscular trunk. He folded his arms over his chest, no longer holding onto you. “Didn’t mean to scare ya that bad. S’pose I should’ve been more forthcoming, but ya don’t get much fun out here, y’know?” He shrugged. “Sorry. Kinda a fighter, aren’t ya, though? Most people just curl into a ball and scream.”
You stared at him. He was silhouetted by moonlight, so you could make out his long, somewhat tangled black hair and his dark brown skin. There were a few patches of scales on his belly, creeping up from where his snake body ended. “I thought,” you said, after a moment of thought, “that you were going to eat me.”
He shrugged. “I’m not.”
That had become pretty clear. Unless this was a game, though you couldn’t see the point of it, if it was. “Then what are you going to do?”
He grinned, at that. His canines were still too long and sharp, more like a snake’s than a human’s- though still not totally like either. “Look.”
He turned his body to point at a spot beyond the shifting weight of his coils. In the wall of the pit, there was… a hole.
It wasn’t a big hole. Large enough for a person to fit through, provided they were crawling and not standing up straight. It sloped a little, down into the ground. The idea of it made you shudder. Perhaps the serpent didn’t pick up on that, because he said, “You’re going to go in there.”
“I’m not,” you insisted. The serpent considered you for a moment, not quite irritated, but certainly not pleased.
“Ya are,” he said. “Unless you’re plannin’ on staying here and dyin’ when they come back and find ya completely uneaten.”
You glared. “Fine.” The serpent nodded, clearly believing you meant ‘fine, I’ll go in there.’ His expression changed to plain annoyance when you, through lack of motion, convinced him that you meant ‘fine, I’ll stay here and die.”
“You’re claustrophobic,” he reasoned. You glared. It was true, but you didn’t like it. The idea of close earth, pressing in on you- unbearable. The idea of having nowhere to run, nowhere to go or flee to, no open space within which to seek safety-
“Alright, alright! Don’t- don’t do that, just- Damn, this makes it much harder than I thought it was gonna be.” The serpent patted awkwardly at your shoulder. You squirmed away from his touch and he held his hands up. Your breathing, which had spun wildly out of control for a moment, dropped back to a steady (or at least steadier) rhythm. “Look. The only way out of here is through the tunnel. It’s only twenty feet of tunnel, and once you’re through that, it’s not so tight.”
“I can’t get through the twenty feet,” you ground out. Even three feet, less than your body length, would be close to intolerable. As long as your head and arms were trapped, there was panic.
The serpent heaved a sigh. “Erg… You’re gonna have to.”
“I can’t.” Clearly, he was slow. Otherwise, he would be getting that it was physically impossible for you to do so. You could not, unless under immediate threat of death, force yourself through it. And maybe not even that.
The serpent rubbed his face. “Sonova- If you get caught, I’m gonna be fucked too, y’know?” His coils shifted, lifting and writhing. Above you, through the gaps in his coils, you could see the sky lightening. It was going to be day soon. That seemed to be agitating him. “Okay. You’re not gonna like this, but we’re doing it anyway.”
You stiffened. “We’re not going to-”
The serpent seized you by hooking an arm under your armpits and hauled. You were half lifted off the ground and pulled toward the hole in the wall. Panic seized you and you started to kick your legs. The serpent wholly ignored you. For a moment, you wondered about how he was going to manage to pull you through- there wasn’t enough space for both of you to fit going through at the same time.
It was a question that was quickly answered. As you got within a foot of the hole, he dropped you and plunged in himself.
Within seconds, his human part was gone, leaving only his snake portion, It flowed in and in and in, an endless-seeming mass of scaled flesh moving into the tunnel. It was almost hypnotic. So hypnotic, in fact, that you didn’t register it when the last foot or so of his tail wrapped around your legs and hauled you into the tunnel after him.
It happened fast- one second you were just registering the fact that you were moving, the next you were in the tunnel with the walls pressing close in on you. The press of the walls, combined with the warm squeeze of the serpent’s tail around you was- was- your brain scrambled, sheer terror blotting out every thought you could have summoned up.
And then the walls lessened. Not a lot, but their squeeze was reduced. The tail wrapped around you, so tight you couldn’t move your arms or legs, was still bad, but the walls weren’t so tight. Lifting your head didn’t whack it on the ceiling anymore, and you couldn’t feel your shoulders rubbing against the walls. You felt the movement of air on your legs first, and then you were pulled into a bright, open room.
The made your eyes tear up. You squeezed them shut against it. The tail around your body relaxed, drawing away. The sheer relief was incredible, so much that you couldn’t bring yourself to move. You lay there, gasping and shivering on the floor, eyes squeezed shut. Your brain was so utterly scrambled that you didn’t even question why there were bright lights underground for a few minutes.
People talking, though, that got your attention.
“I’m gonna need to be back out there in a couple minutes, just in case they come lookin’,” the serpent was saying.
“Of course. Though you really couldn’t have thought of a better solution? Or explained more?” The second voice was female, probably older by the sound of it. Kind of weary, too. You blinked your eyes open. The serpent was coiled as tight as he was able, and was bending to speak to an older woman, brown hair shot through with gray, in something like a lab coat.
“You were the ones delayin’ everything.”
“Well, you could have told her in the meantime. You didn’t have to wait for us to be ready.”
The serpent grimaced. “Sure, if I wasn’t so busy prepping the tunnel. It’s not easy to dig that shit back out every time you guys want to-”
“Who are you?” Your voice wasn’t a yell, but it wasn’t quiet. The conversation stopped. Both of them looked at you.
The woman straightened out her lab coat. It was a bit stained and yellowed in some places, and there was a button missing. “My name is Elise Markov. This-” She gestured to the massive serpent-person beside her. “-Is Hana. I apologize for… well, for him.” He clucked his tongue. “Hush. You should be kinder to our new arrivals.”
“Perhaps.” Hana flexed his tail. “It’s not like I get much practice with people, trapped up there without-”
“Speaking of,” Elise said, cutting him off. He fell silent, sulky. “You should go back up. You were saying they might be back soon.”
Hana grimaced but he obediently slipped toward the tunnel. After a few moments, his tail was vanishing into the tunnel. Elise watched him go, then headed over to you. “Come along. I will explain on the way.”
Getting up gave you a chance to look a little more around the room. It wasn’t terribly big, maybe about the size of a single room in a house, and lit entirely by floodlights. Another tunnel, this one much larger than the one you had entered through, allowed you to exit the room. You could stand up in it, and almost extend your arms before hitting the wall while inside, it, so the terror was only a minor scream in the back of your mind.
As you walked, Elise explained. “We have been out here since the, well, apocalypse, for lack of a better term, recruiting as we can. Sometimes we take in runaways, sometimes strays, sometimes people like you- people who have been set to death by the various collectives and compounds that now litter the world. You will stay here now, and work with us. There will be a task you can do, I assure you, be it caring for the assets or cooking food or cleaning.”
You trotted along after her. “I don’t underst-”
“I’m aware. You will.” Elise’s tone was clipped. “For now, just know that you are safe and you will remain safe for the foreseeable future. We have an organization, relative protection, and, the basic necessities of life.”
Well. Good enough for you. It was significantly better to have a place that didn’t want to kill you. At least, not immediately.
The tunnel went on for what must have been at least a few miles. Your legs ached and you felt dizzy. It had been some time since you’d had proper food. You swayed, exhausted, even as Elise kept up her ruthless pace. Eventually, the tunnel opened up into a tall, illuminated room. You hurried toward it, ready for your journey to end, and-
There were people. Many of them wore lab coats, like Elise, though they were all about as dirty as Elise’s as well. But there were also many… things. Creatures. Beasts you couldn’t understand. One of them, a creature with the torso of a human, but the lower body of a massive, pale spider approached. “Ah, Thierry. If you could-”
You were taken to a room and told it was yours. It was a tiny room, big enough for a bed and a hanging rack of clothes. But it was at least nicer than the communal bunks you’d had previously. You didn’t feel comfortable sleeping with other people.
After a full day of resting, and a fairly simple meal of vegetables and a biscuit, you were given the beginnings of orientation. It was fairly extensive, starting at the exact moment the world fell apart, about ten years ago.
The end of the world was something you remembered, though not in any great detail. It hadn’t been an abrupt thing, like it always was in dystopian fiction. It had just been, over the course of a few years, a gradual downturn of things getting worse until you were in a barrack with a couple dozen other people and you realized you had no hope of anything ever getting better. The world had just seemed to get more and more frightened of everything going on, more desperate and sad and clawing until everything had been torn to shreds.
Apparently, that hadn’t quite been an accident.
The details were vague- you weren’t sure if that was because the details were unknown, or if the people in charge just didn’t want you to know them. But the government (or several governments- again, the details were unclear) had been running experiments on fear. Fear was, after all, one of the most effective motivators ad weapons ever known. Enough fear could kill, could make a person commit atrocities. And so, it needed to be studied, understood, and potentially weaponized.
After years of research, they had managed to create… something. Tapped into some collective unconscious, some extra-physical resource, and created, from humans, creatures that embodied the fears of the world.
The outpouring of fear from their initial creation spread the world over. It wasn’t strong, but it lingered, like background radiation in the minds of everyone on the planet. And that fear drove everyone to the brink of madness and destruction. Even after the initial burst of it settled, everyone had already settled into their new lives and routines too thoroughly to go back.
This particular organization had been created by a small group of the scientists who’d escaped the panic-induced deaths of everyone who’d worked on the initial project. They’d managed to gather a small group of the fear-creatures, who worked with them, as much as they could.
You even got to meet a few of them. All of them seemed to embody a specific type of fear, usually a phobia. Thierry, the spider-person you’d met initially was the embodiment of arachnophobia. There was a person who seemed to be entirely made of water that represented thassolophobia, though you saw her pretty infrequently. Her proper body took up a massive swimming pool that had needed to be dug out special. The only time you saw her was when she sent out a segment of her body that was roughly person sized and shaped, something that was apparently difficult and uncomfortable to do. Another person, a hulking figure of dirt with a hole in their middle that seemed to constantly draw your eyes and body, represented claustrophobia. You didn’t go near him often.
Of course, your Hana was representative of a fear of snakes. Never a fear you’d had, but you could see how he would be horrific for someone who was afraid of scaly ropes.
He was apparently a recruiter, of some description. His capture by your old compound was an accident, but given that he was regularly fed a stream of dissenters, he could smuggle people they determined to be relatively safe out of the pit. Apparently your thievery was determined to be a non-harmful pastime that earned you a free ticket out.
You were told all this by the person you were supposed to be shadowing, a middle-aged woman who had been in this little group since just after its founding. You followed her around while she showed you how to do a variety of tasks. Mostly cleaning or fetching things for other people. A day after you’d arrived, she handed you a massive tray of raw meat and gestured for your to follow her.
“This will likely be one of your tasks on a daily basis,” she said. “Along with general cleaning. I assume you’re willing to complete janitorial tasks.”
Her tone said ‘you don’t think you’re too good for this, right?’ with an undertone of ‘because if you do, we’re going to have problems.’ “I’m fine with it,” you said. You legitimately didn’t have a problem with it. It wasn’t any different from the shit you’d been doing at the compound.
You walked through a familiar hall that opened into a familiar, cavernous room. You had to switch the floodlights on. Obviously you didn’t have the power to run them all the time.
“Mind warning me before you do that?” Hana groused, half covering his face with his hand. “Oh, it’s you!”
You nodded. “It’s… good to see you again?”
“Sure. Glad you’re doin’ all right,” Hana said. “Ya gonna give me the food or what?”
Your supervisor left at that moment, telling you to bring the tray back to the kitchens when you were done, since she needed to take care of something. Everyone seemed busy all the time. Probably took a lot of work to run the place. You’d probably be busy too, once you were more settled in.
Hana didn’t really chew his food. He just swallowed big chunks at once, like- well, like a snake. It was impressive, but also kind of gross to watch. “Guess you’ve decided to stay,” he said between huge mouthfuls.
“What other options do I have?” you asked back, complete rhetorical.
He decided to answer it anyway, though. “Out there.” He gestured vaguely toward the ceiling with an expansive motion. “Y’know. Anywhere out there.”
“I’d die,” you said. Society might have collapsed when you were a teen, but the past ten years or so, you’d been hopping from little settlement to little settlement. You didn’t have the skills or the tools to survive on your own in the wilderness.
“You might live,” he said. “It’s a lot of scrubland, but I ‘member people saying there’s root vegetables and stuff growin’ out there. You could eat those.”
“Not without cooking them. I can’t actually identify any of them, either. I’d probably eat something toxic by accident. Or get caught by marauders. Or the wild dog packs.” A lot of people had dogs before the apocalypse. A lot of those dogs didn’t have people anymore by the time things settled. And, well, dogs are descended from wolves. In times of necessity, a lot of them just remembered what they used to be. Packs of larger dogs could be a real issue, especially because no one was giving out rabies vaccines anymore.
“Maybe,” Hana allowed. “Maybe not.” He swallowed another chunk of meat. “Maybe ya could befriend a dog and get it to bring ya meat. They can hunt, right? And they’re stupid loyal?”
You laughed a little. “Have you never met a dog before?”
“Nah. Where would I have seen one, huh?” Hana paused, tapping a finger on his chin. There’s a thin line of meat-juice running along it. “Hm. Though I guess I could have seen one and not realized it, ‘cause I don’t really know what they look like.”
“You’ve never even seen a dog?” you asked. “Not even before you were changed into-” You skittered to a stop, not quite managing to pause the words before they’re almost all out. Oops. You didn’t mean to do that. It was probably a rather touchy subject for him.
He shrugged, still eating. “Nah. Don’t remember a thing before I got all scaly.” He gestures to his waist. A majority of his body is still stretching up through the tunnel and out into the pit, but there’s enough there to see his dark scales. “Probably good, though, huh? Can’t imagine turnin’ into this was a fun time for me.”             “You don’t remember what it was like to be human at all?” you asked. He fixed you with an irritated look.
“I just said I didn’t. Open your ears. I remember some stuff, clearly. Like, I woke up knowin’ English and what the sky and grass was an’ all that.”
“But not dogs,” you mused. He gave you a wry, somewhat irritated expression.
“No. Not dogs.”
Hm. That was interesting. You mulled that over while he finished his meal. Once he was done, you gathered up the dishes. “See ya around,” he said, waving.
As if turned out, you did see him after that quite often. Your initial tasks seemed to be focused on delivering food to the ‘phobic assets.’ Not all of them were still human enough to eat, but the ones who had fused with animals definitely needed to. Thierry was your favorite. He was typically quite polite, and you’d never had any issue with spiders before, so his spider half was a source of fascination rather than disgust.
Hana was always waiting for you when you brought food to him, and he always stuck around to chat for as long as you wanted. Maybe he was lonely, or maybe he was just bored. But he always listened attentively, and given that everyone else was rushing around all the time, speaking to him was nearly the highlight of your day.
“I mean, it’s nicer being here than it was being there, obviously. I just wish people weren’t so…” You waved a hand. “I don’t know. Rushed? At least I felt like I was a part of a community over there. We all had meals together and we talked and worked together. Here, it’s just different. I don’t think I’ve had a conversation with anyone except a couple people for more than two minutes.”
“Everyone’s trying to save the world. Makes ‘em busy. Plus, you’re kinda an outsider. It’ll take a while to get you on their radar. Or into their precious schedules.” Hana shrugged, gulping down his meal with reckless abandon. “Who’s the second?”
“Huh?” He had a habit of jumping topics like that. It was hard to keep up.
“Ya said there were two people ya could have conversations longer than two minutes. One’s me. Who’s the other?”
“Oh. Thierry.” To your surprise, Hana’s face contorted into a sulky expression.
“Thierry? Really? That pompous spider prick?” He shifted and you could hear distant thumping, like he was slapping the end of his tail against the ground.
“What’s wrong with Thierry?” you asked, creeping back a little. He didn’t seem overly pissed, but it was probably best to get out of the way. Just in case.
“He’s stuck up. Thinks he’s so good ‘cause he’s the embodiment of some massive fear and he’s the one who works the closest with all the scientists.” Hana rolled his eyes so aggressively you were surprised he didn’t strain something.
“He’s nice to me,” you said. Hana grumbled incoherently, tail thumping. One of his hands dug furrows in the dirt. You watched his fingers as they made the scraping motions over and over. Something in your brain itched, drawing up the image of those strong fingers seizing you and squeezing until it hurt as you kicked against it-
The room was large. But the walls felt too much like they were pressing in on you.
The tray was empty and you hurried forward to grab it before jolting back to the door. Hana looked up from his sulking, alarm and maybe concern crossing his face. “Wh- Ya doin’ okay?”
“Yes.” The word came out steady, but mechanical in its steadiness. It almost hissed past your lips. Hana started to lift himself up, pulling more of his massive serpent’s tail in through the hole in order to support himself. You scrambled back from his rapidly more imposing form.
“Woah, easy there. I didn’t mean to startle ya.” He held his hands up, but that made him look even more imposing. “Uh. Maybe you should sit down? Ya don’t look so-”
You turned and fled down the hallway that led back to the relative safety of the entrance room. Hana yelled after you to wait, but his voice was distorted and echoing down the tunnel and you didn’t bother to listen. You just fled.
Perhaps your room was the safest place to go, but you couldn’t bring yourself to spend time there, given its small size. It was fine normally, but you couldn’t manage it while already keyed up. Fortunately, the lab techs could use someone to help them wipe down their equipment, so you stayed in there. There were too many people bustling around for your liking, but it was, on the whole, a good distraction.
For the next couple of days, you didn’t see Hana. It wasn’t terribly hard to pawn your task off onto someone else, as long as you agreed to pick up whatever they were working on. You learned a lot of simple tasks- cleaning, a lot about cleaning, as well as how to operate their computer system, and even a few mechanical skills from repairing things. That had been completely disallowed in the compound you’d spent you life in- at least, for someone as low-ranking as you.
Hana sent you messages a couple of times. Some of the people who did your job of delivering meals came back and told you he’d asked them to tell you that he wanted to talk. You ignored it. There was a part of you that felt bad about it. Then you remembered him getting all pissy about you talking to Thierry and those bad feelings went right back out the window. What had been his problem about all that anyway?
The answer had come to you midway through washing out a series of trays in the cafeteria- he was jealous.
That thought gave you pause. You hadn’t even really been thinking about it, just kind of turning things over idly in your mind. But it made sense, didn’t it? He’d gotten sulky right after finding out that you were spending time with someone else, and that matched up with jealousy. He’d gotten annoyed about Thierry, specifically. Was he just pissed that he wasn’t the oh-so-special fear monster that you were picking to spend all of your time with?             Or maybe he was upset because you visited him at mealtimes, when you had to, and you could see Thierry whenever you wanted. People didn’t visit him very often, did they? Even Thierry, who lived in the main compound, seemed surprised to get visitors. Maybe he was jealous because he was lonely.
That idea didn’t make you feel very good. Not that it was an excuse for him getting all annoyed, but… it was understandable. And maybe you’d overreacted a little bit. You had your own reasons for that, of course. But looking back on it, you probably could have handled the whole thing better.
You grimaced, placing all the dishes into their rack and sliding it onto a shelf above your head. Fine. You would go back to him. Apologize. It would be swallowing your pride, but… You remembered him calling after you. His reaching out. The idea of you ignoring him out of some petty hurt feelings? It made you feel awful.
The next day, you went to gather his food from the kitchen and found no tray waiting for you. After a bit of looking around, to make sure you hadn’t missed something, you approached the kitchen head. “Hey. When are we feeding Hana?”
He glanced back at you. “Thought you didn’t want to feed him anymore.”
A nervous prickle wound its way down your spine. “Uh. I’ve been wanting to try out some other jobs, but I am still interested in helping- look, did you give the food to someone else or not?”
He sighed. He was older, and clearly didn’t like you talking back to him and ruining his quiet kitchen. “No. He’s getting a later feeding. We’re inviting someone new in today.”
“What? Seriously?” You leaned over the serving window. “Who is it?”
He glared at you. “You’ll have to ask someone else for that information.”
You headed out, looking for… someone who knew what was going on, you guessed. Fortunately, you only needed to go down a couple halls before running into the very woman who had welcomed you to this place.
“Hello,” she said. “I’m glad to see you. You’ve been settling in well?”
Her voice had that tone to it, the tone of someone asking perfunctory questions out of politeness without really caring about the answers they were getting. “Yes, it’s fine,” you said, another response out of obligated politeness. “You’re going to see the new person?”
“Yes. You’re wanting to come with?” she asked, barely slowing in her step. You continued alongside her.
“Am I allowed to?”
She shrugged. “Certainly. They’ll be from your compound. It may help them to see a friendly face.”
There was a solid chance it would be a face you didn’t know, and even if you did know them, they may not have been friendly. But it got you closer to Hana, and maybe you could stay behind for a bit to talk to him. You tagged along after her, drawing closer to the entrance to the tunnel with every step.
The woman was quick and sure and it took a little time to emerge into the open room lit with floodlights. There was no one there. No one continued to be there for several minutes. You were about to sarcastically ask if you got the time wrong when a small avalanche of pebbles fell down the tunnel.
There was another small avalanche of pebbles, then another, then a scraping noise. Then a head and shoulders emerged into the room. It was a person, pale-skinned, with curly blonde hair. She was quite skinny and smeared with dirt, teeth gritted. As soon as she was partially freed from the tunnel, she struggled forward, fingers clawing at the ground. The woman stepped forward, pulling the newcomer out of the hole. A moment later, Hana slithered out, groaning and stretching.
“Cuttin’ it close there, aren’t y-” His eyes fell on you and a look of clear surprise flitted across his face. He blinked a couple times. You felt a bit sheepish under his gaze.
The newcomer coughed as she stood up. “Son of a bitch, that’s rough. You need to have a better greeting system for people arriving here, because getting grabbed by a massive snake is not it, seriously.” She stared around the room, taking it all in, and her gaze fell on you. Her face twisted. “You!”             It came back in a rush- she was a familiar face. Not a friendly one, though. One of the ones who’d seen- she knew you. She’d helped get you thrown into the pit. What had led her here, you didn’t know, but she was clearly pissed that you were in the same place.
“What are you doing here?” she said.
“Same thing you are,” you snapped. “Shouldn’t be surprised that you’re here, to be honest. How long until you tattled on the wrong person and got yourself thrown away?”
“Tattled?” Her face grew splotched with red. “That’s what you call it? Because I told people you murdered someone?”
There was the cold shock of silence for a few moments. “Murder?” Hana said. His voice was faintly shocked. “Ya said ya stole something.”
“It’s technically stealing. Stole someone’s life,” you said. “But it- it wasn’t like that, I didn’t just- I didn’t want to, really, but it happened and-”
“While we are willing to accept those who’ve been driven out of the compound for multiple reasons, we are much more hesitant when it involves murder,” the woman said. “That you haven’t disclosed it until now gives us much more reason for concern.” She stepped forward, ushering the newcomer behind her. There was a glint of metal and there was a gun pointed at you. You hadn’t even seen where she was carrying it. “If you’ll come with me-”
“Wait, wait,” Hana said. He slithered forward, pulling more of himself into the room to go almost between you and the woman. “No need for a gun, yeah? S’not necessary. Nothin’s happened, right? No one’s done anything here. And livin’ in that compound- there’s gotta be a good reason for the murder, yeah?”
“Reasons can be determined later. For now- containment. For safety.”
“Containment?” The word made your skin crawl like it was trying to get off your body. It brings to mind the containment you were kept in when you were initially convicted in the compound. It was barely a room. Not enough space to lie down. Barely enough to sit, with your legs tucked against your chest and your arms tight against your sides. Not enough room to move, not even to eat. Not that it mattered. You were kept there for nearly two full days. They didn’t bother to feed you.
“C’mon,” Hana was speaking, his voice wheedling. “Someone just shows up here and you’re gonna take her word? Y’think this one’s gonna kill someone? Really?” He jerked a thumb back at you, and you couldn’t even be offended. “S’not exactly a tough lookin’ piece of work.”
The woman hesitated, lowering the pistol a little. “It wouldn’t be permanent. Just for a couple days, while we review work details and determine if there should be an escort. It’s for safety.”
Hana rolled his eyes, a great, overexaggerated movement. “Sure. Fine. Look, if ya want to do containment, do it here.”
The woman’s gun lowered a little more, out of sheer confusion. “I beg your pardon?”
“Do the containment here.” Hana lifted his hands to gesture at the room around you. “Ya can shut the door that connects this place and the main facility, right? Do that and keep the little killer here.” He waved a hand toward you again.
“I’m not certain that’s a good idea,” the woman said.
“What d’ya think is gonna happen? Little killer can’t get through the door once it’s closed. Not without your permission.” He paused, likely for dramatic effect. “Unless ya think she’s gonna pull something on me.” And then he grinned, showing off his teeth, especially the ones that were too pointed to be a human.
The woman looked at you, then him. Then you, then him again. Then she sighed. “Fine. If you’re determined to keep an eye on her, then I’m not going to stop you.” She placed the gun back under her jacket in a holster you hadn’t noticed before, then grabbed the newcomer by the arm. They walked out together, the newcomer’s eyes locked on you until they vanished down the tunnel. A moment later, the door at the end of the hall shut and locked.
The tension vanished at once, and you sank to the ground. Your heart raced along in your chest, your breathing quick and trembling. You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to calm yourself. Hana didn’t approach, but he didn’t leave either. He just studied a wall, waiting for you to pull yourself together.
You did, eventually. “Thanks,” you mumbled. Hana glanced at you. “I mean it. You didn’t have to do that.”
He hummed, turning away from the wall. “So. Ya kill someone?”             Straight to the point, huh? You took a deep breath. “Yeah.” You paused. “Have you ever, uh. Y’know.”
“Killed someone? Couple times, yeah.” He stretched. “Well. Actually. Probably a lot more than that, but I don’t know if they count.”
You stared at him, waiting for him to continue. He shrugged, plucking at some of his hair. It was in really good shape, considering that he’d been outside for ages. Actually, he was also rather clean. Did they give him access to a shower or something? How did he fit? Did he just get hosed down?
“This big ol’ thing,” he said gesturing to his body, “has been around for a bit longer than this.” He tapped a finger against his head. “We were all like that for a while.” You assumed he meant the other phobics. “‘Ventually we woke up, but I killed quite a few before I got there. Wasn’t really me doing the killing, though- didn’t have my sparkling personality.” He threw you a wink. You rolled your eyes. “Not like I remember what happened then, anyway.”
He fell silent after that until you piped up. “What about the other two people you killed?”
“Oh.” He finger-combed his hair, seeming very interested in picking out the knots. “One of ‘em tried to kill me. Came at me with a big ol’ knife. That was before I ended up here.”
“The other?” you prompted when he fell quiet again. He snorted, lips curling up over his fangs.
“The other was after I came here. Nasty piece of work. A criminal from your compound, though I dunno if he was a part of the compound itself. Didn’t seem like it. Asked him about what he did to get sent here.” Hana’s lips curled further. “Don’t think he was in his right mind. Said he was pickin’ off people from the farms, raping them, then chucking their bodies somewhere in the fields to rot.” Hana hissed. It was low, inhuman. It made your hair stand on end. “So I killed ‘im. Don’t think he appreciated being on the receiving end.”
Your chest clenched so hard you couldn’t get in a breath. You remembered that. It had happened a few years ago. You had been so grateful that you worked closer to the inner compound, so that something like that could never happen to you. You’d been so sure it would never happen. So, so sure.
“Woah there.” Hana reared up a little, looking at you with clear alarm. “Easy. I didn’t mean to freak ya out. Take a breath before you pass out, all right?”
The choking sobs eased enough for you to do just that. Hana came hesitantly closer, caution in his eyes. “S’okay. He’s dead now. Did you, uh. Know him or somethin’?”
Your voice was strange, strangled, but you got the words out. “Knew of him, more like. I thought- I thought it was so good when he was gone because- I would never- worry about it-” You kept having to pause to gasp for air. Hana winced.
“Maybe we should talk about somethin’ else now, yeah? Uh. Damn, they didn’t give us water, I think ya could use some…” He scrounged around. “Thought there was a spigot somewhere around here… not that it’d be super clean water, I guess.”
“I’m fine,” you said. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t say you’re sorry about things ya don’t need to be sorry for. It sets a bad precedent.” He finished fumbling his way along the wall and sighed. “Hmph. I don’t see it. Maybe I can bang on the door and make them-”
“Don’t bother. Like I said, I’m fine.” You took in a deep breath. Water would have been nice -your mouth was getting kind of tacky- but it wasn’t necessary. Hana gave you a skeptical look, but he didn’t bang on the door. That was probably for the best- the space was small enough that the sound would have echoed and that would have freaked you out more.
“Suppose it’s a bad time to ask and all,” Hana said. “But, uh. Y’ever gonna tell me why you killed someone? Just seems fair, is all.”
You took a deep breath, and then another. And then another and another. Hana waited, not really looking at you. His tail was still partially in the tunnel, but you could imagine his tail tip flicking idly, back and forth, while he waited.
“It’s not easy to talk about,” you said eventually.
Hana nodded, accepting. “I can see that.”
“I didn’t mean to- no.” You didn’t want to lie to him. “I did. I knew what was going to happen when I went there and I went anyway. I knew.”
Hana remained silent, his eyes flicking over to look at you. Another deep breath. “When I was there, I worked mostly in the town. It was a lot of stuff that I did. Repair work, maintenance, animal care, that kind of thing. Outside, but close to the center of the compound. That’s how you knew how important someone was. How close to the center they were. Eventually, I started getting called for other things. Maintenance on the hall itself, being a gopher for messages from the hall to the other workers or even bringing food into the officials. That was the first problem, I guess. The officials.
“There were a bunch of them, people who kind of ran things in the compound. I mean, I say a bunch. Probably around five or six. We never saw all of them. But Peter was one of the ones we saw, often. He was the… I don’t know. The charisma, maybe. His official job was something to do with assigning tasks and population management, but he really made people want to stay. He could talk to you and make you feel like the most important person in the world, or like the shit under his shoe. Peter could make you feel good about doing the most menial, backbreaking work every day because he could make you feel like you were doing something important.” You paused. You’d expected to feel upset or near tears, but you just felt oddly numb. “He made me feel important. About everything.”
Hana was a short distance away, watching with rapt attention. You couldn’t quite bring yourself to look at him, but you could tell he was paying attention. “He was nice to me, and I thought he was kind. I was so happy when he started getting me to work more in the hall. I thought it meant I was doing well. And eventually he started getting close. Asking me to take meals with just him. I thought it was strange, but I was happy. And then he started to ask for other things. And I thought… I can’t refuse him. Ever.
“The first time he tried to have sex with me, he was drunk. Like, pretty damn drunk. I let it happen because I wasn’t sure if he would remember it. I didn’t want to offend him if he did. I thought it was just a one-time thing. Except… the next time he was less drunk. And then the third time he wasn’t drunk at all. And every time I thought he wouldn’t do it again. By the time I realized it was going to keep happening, I had no idea how I was supposed to stop it. Refusing felt like I was suddenly kicking up a fuss over something that hadn’t been a big deal at first, but it had been a big deal all along!”
Your voice broke, rising in volume. Hana bristled, looking alarmed, but uncertain. Should he move closer? Back away? Comfort you? Seeing his panicked bewilderment, you took a deep breath and tried to relax. “It’s- I tried to stop it in small measures. Tried to tell him not now, or another time, or even tried to just cuddle.” You giggled, a little hysterically. “He wasn’t pleased. He got pushier. More demanding and more controlling. I started to get a little desperate. I talked about what was happening with some other people, but those who weren’t jealous or thought I was being ungrateful were scared of him. And then when he found out I was telling people, he was furious. Said I was trying to make other people jealous or get attention, even when I said that wasn’t what I was doing at all. He got more aggressive. Angrier with me. I couldn’t do anything right anymore, and every time I did something wrong, he threatened to send me away. I didn’t want to stay with him, but I didn’t want to leave, either. It was awful.
“I think I went crazy for a while. I was so stressed I couldn’t even think straight for ages. I just wanted him out of my life. I had access to a lot of things in the hall at that point, including the medicine storage. I thought if I slipped something into his wine when he was drunk enough, maybe I could pin it on his drinking, that he’d just had too much. It wasn’t like we could do autopsies. And that’s what I tried. Put a bunch of crushed-up sleeping pills into the wine and brought it too him when I thought he might already be too drunk to notice the taste. I’m not exactly sure what went wrong. Maybe he didn’t drink enough, or I put too little in, or maybe he was just in death throes. But he came at me, and I hit him. I think it killed him, or it was a combination of that and the medicine. So I panicked, tried to hide the body, and then, well. You know what happened after that.”
Hana was silent for a moment. He took in a deep breath, released it slowly. His eyes closed for a moment. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
“It’s really, really not,” Hana said. “It’s gross. And fucked. And horrible. I’m glad ya killed him.” He turned toward the door with a murderous look in his eyes. “And that bitch was going to-”
“She didn’t know. Why would she? It’s not like most people knew what happened. She knows what they told her. I murdered one of our leaders. Honestly, getting thrown into the pit was a mercy for me. I thought they might string me up and have a torture free for all.”
Hana shuddered. It traveled along his shoulders and all down his tail. It was sort of funny to watch. “Fuck.”
“Yeah.” You weren’t sure what else to say. You were just tired.
Hana moved a little closer to you, but stayed out of touching distance. “I’ll talk to ‘em. If you want. Tell them not to- not to have ya here anymore. Ya don’t deserve it.”
“It’s fine.”
“It ain’t fine! Ya don’t deserve it!” There was a thump from outside, Hana’s tail swinging wildly. “It’s about not lettin’ them punish people who shouldn’t be punished!”
“I did kill a man,” you observe mildly.
“Yeah, and ya should have gotten a medal for it,” Hana huffed.
“I don’t really mind being here. It’s not so bad. Company’s nice.” You smiled at him. He frowned back.
“Thought ya didn’t like me.” He wasn’t saying it accusingly. Just as an observation.
“Oh. No, I don’t not like you. I know I freaked out last time I saw you. I got… worried when you were upset about Thierry.”
Hana drooped. “Eh. Yeah. That wasn’t my best moment. I didn’t mean to scare ya. I wasn’t thinking.”
“Running wasn’t my best moment, either,” you said. “I thought about coming back soon after I ran, but I was kinda embarrassed. Sorry.”
Hana laughed. “We both fucked up then, huh? Maybe me more than you. Glad you’re here now, though. S’good to see ya.”
“It’s good to see you too,” you said. “Like I said before.” Hana grinned, eyes crinkling at the corners.
Eventually, he departed back to the surface, but he spent much more of his time down in the cave with you. It was quietly peaceful. After what you estimated to be a few hours, the door banged and Hana perked up as food was slipped through the door. He managed to catch it before it closed completely and there were a few minutes of mumbled conversation. Hana retreated, letting the door close. He seemed smugly pleased with himself.
“I gave them a piece of my mind,” he said. “Not as much as I wanted to, but ya know. They wanted it to be all quick.” He shrugged. “They’re gonna let ya out soon. Didn’t tell ‘em too much, but I did say it was self-defense.”
“They believed you?” you asked, a bit skeptical.
“More or less. Honestly, I think they’d already gotten the idea that you killed someone high-ranking, and they’re more likely to call self-defense for that. When I told ‘em you’d killed someone in self-defense and they were a high-up, they seemed to be content.”
“It wasn’t really self-defense,” you said. “It was premeditated murder.”
Hana snorted. “He was raping ya. Ya stopped him. It was self-defense.”
It was such a simple sentence, but the way he’d said it, like it was obvious and clear, that you should have done it, that it was as simple as protecting yourself- it made you crumble. You dropped your head into your hands and whimpered. Hana froze, then slid closer. He seemed momentarily lost, until you slumped against him. You didn’t hold him back, but you allowed him to hold you while you shivered and whimpered. He was careful, keeping his touch light, but there. It wasn’t restrictive- just a reminder he was there for you.
Once you were done crying yourself out, you lay down and closed your eyes, exhausted. “I’m going to sleep,” you mumbled. “Let me know when they come to get me.”
Hana nodded. “Will do.” He lay down next to you, watching you lazily. “When ya get out of here… come back to visit me, yeah?”
You opened your eyes. Hana seemed… melancholy, tense. He was waiting for your answer. “Yeah,” you said. You slid your hand out over his. “You’re never going to get rid of me after this. Promise.”
Before you closed your eyes again, you saw Hana grinning.
True to his word, you were released from the cell and allowed to go back to your room. The newcomer still glared at you, but she never made any effort to do anything. In fact, a week later, she came up and gave a mumbled apology. You forgave her, at least enough to tolerate her presence.
And you were back on feeding duty for Hana. He was pleased every time you came by, always attentive and waiting. The feedings took longer now- sometimes so long that people had to come get you. It was just nice talking to Hana. The only issue was that it was uncomfortable for him to stay down for a long time. You hadn’t realized it before, as he never complained, but the tunnel was little tight around him, and his tail could cramp if he spent too long in there.
One day, as he was carefully retreating back through the tunnel, (he had to hold his arms out in front of him, lest they catch awkwardly on the uneven walls), you caught his attention. “I, uh. I couldn’t go up there with you, could I?”
He froze, arms still outstretched. “Ya want to?”
You huffed. “You don’t need to sound like it’s insane to want that.”             “No, no, s’not what I meant.” He wriggled a little ways back out. “I meant, ya never want to go through here. It’s too tight for ya.”
“It’s tight,” you agreed. “But I want to try anyway.” Your heart was thundering just thinking about it, but you liked the idea of the fresh air and sunlight on the other side.
Hana pursed his lips. “Are ya sure? Not to doubt ya, but if ya get in and decide ya don’t like it, it’s gonna be hard to get back out.”
“I got it. Trust me.” You gave him a pleading look. He squirmed, restless in his worry. Then he sighed.
“I can’t stop ya. Just be careful.” He retreated again, slower this time. You took a deep breath and pressed inward.
You were going forward, instead of in reverse, so your arms were pinned to your sides within a few moments. You couldn’t move them an inch, could barely lift your head. You could kick your legs and wriggle to force yourself forward.
There was panic from the moment the stone walls restricted your arms, but the moment when they pinched in so tight you couldn’t move without some scratches was when it really set in. You tried not to breathe in great, whooping gasps, because that make dust fly up your nose and mouth and only increased the terror that you couldn’t breathe, but it was hard. The walls were so tight. You could barely breathe enough to scream, but you could make little noises of terror. There was a pale light distantly above and in front of you, but you couldn’t reach it. You could see the sun, but you were in the dark and you couldn’t bring yourself to move forward.
The pale light wobbled, then a shape moved across it. A head and shoulders. “Hey!” Hana called out. His voice echoed faintly down the tunnel. “Ya stopped moving.”
You tried to speak, but it came out as a thin squeak. Hana went very still. Then he spoke again, in a soft, gentle voice. “Hey. S’okay. Ya got this. It’s scary, yeah? Being stuck in there. But if ya just move your legs a little, ya can keep moving forward. Ya can get out. Just a little further.”
You groaned. But you kicked. Your legs thrust you forward. And Hana’s shape, backlit by the sun, got clearer and clearer.
His hand reached in as soon as you were close enough and he pulled, gripping your collar until you had wriggled free.
“There ya go!” Hana sagged in relief as you scrambled onto the dirt floor. “Whoo! Was a little worried.” He lowered himself to look into your face. “You’re okay? Nothin’ hurt?”
“Nah. Fine.” You could steady your breathing. “It was tighter than I remembered. But I’m okay now.”
You rolled onto your back, letting the warm kiss of the sun land across your face. “It’s a nice day.”
“Yeah,” Hana said, staring down at you. “It is.” He curled his body closer in around you, surrounding you in snaky coils. He didn’t block out the sun, careful to keep his body to the sides, rather than directly overtop you.
You reached out and tentatively patted his side. The snake body shifted under your touch, the scales slightly warm. Hana watched indulgently as you traced the scales with a finger. Then, finally, he lowered his upper body to the ground next to you. You lay there together for a bit, basking in the sun.
Hana shifted next to you, a little restless. “Are ya goin’ to be up here long?”
“Trying to get rid of me,” you teased. You couldn’t see his face from your angle, but you knew he was rolling his eyes.
“No. ‘Course not. Just wonderin’ if they were missing ya down there.” He was quiet for a moment. “Just thought ya might want to stay up here a bit longer.”
“I’m not eager to go into the tunnel again,” you agreed. “And it’s nice up here. The sun’s nice. Haven’t seen it in a while.” Hana shifted, as if impatient. “And the company is nice.”
“Just nice?” Hana poked. “Faint praise, isn’t it?”
“Well, maybe I could think of someone else I might want to hang out with. Thierry cou-” Hana lifted himself so he was leaning over you, practically pouting. His tail moved, curling even tighter around you. It could have been threatening, but you couldn’t stop yourself from giggling.
“Hey. What did I ever do to ya?” he complained. “I’ve been nothin’ but cordial to ya and now you’re just-”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you huffed. You reached up and petted his face. He closed his eyes, instantly melting into your touch. You brushed your fingers along his cheekbones. He looked quite peaceful. Happy. You had a sudden impulse.
Before you could think better of it, you pulled his face in and gave him a kiss on his forehead.
Hana’s eyes flew open. He blinked once, twice, startled. You wanted to giggle, but a flicker of nervousness in your guts stifled it. His tail curled in close, a tight mass of muscle. Despite that, he kept it from tightening so much that it would make you uncomfortable. “Did ya mean to do that?” he asked. You nodded. A slow grin spread across his face. “Then I’m going to have to return the favor. If ya don’t mind…”
No sooner had you nodded than you were covered in enthusiastic kisses from a snake man. Giggling at the ticklish feeling and wrapped in coils and arms, you felt… surprisingly safe. And not even a little afraid.
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mikey-stardust-way · 11 days ago
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Uhhh guys?
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ochibrochi · 4 months ago
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if anyone is on sydney-side this weekend, i will be at my first interstate convention ever at SMASH!!! (potentially my only time too, i was really lucky to get in...)
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stormikitty · 1 year ago
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I desperately need to see pictures of Danny and Damian enjoying childish things with a caption like "let your inner child heal" or the quote from Jazz's bumper sticker, "have you hugged your inner child today?", or something like that. I need to see them surrounded by squish mallows and a Stitch plushie and watching cartoons and making a pillow fort and stuff like that.
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lifeonmvrs · 1 year ago
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“MURDOCK AND NELSON, ATTORNEYS AT LAW!!!” “nelson and murdock :] sounds better”
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inktober day 1: dreams
[Image Description: digital line art of matt murdock and foggy nelson in their college era. foggy is talking excitedly about the future with upturned arms while matt listens intently with a smile and amused expression. they are both sitting on some stairs. in the background, there is a napkin with a drawing of a sign / plaque reading “nelson and murdock attorneys at law”, though the last part (attorneys at law) is mostly hidden by matt and foggy. /end ID]
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itsyouch · 7 months ago
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no because I regret EVEN saying that I hate tex as a joke. This scene hurt man....
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foggyfanfic · 4 months ago
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Themes vs Realism
Saw an old debate about how isolated the Encanto is and it got me thinking about my own headcanons.
I watched the movie, saw the windows and wine glasses and thought “Oh! They must have trade, glass requires a specific sort of sand and while glass blowers would be relatively common, the odds they had somebody who knows how to make glass frit are pretty low”. And I can back up that argument with research and facts, buying glass is getting more expensive because we’re running low on sand with the right chemical composition, glass frit production would be more likely to happen in towns near silica rich beaches, where as Alma’s hometown looked like it was in the middle of the forest. Nowadays, not every country in the world has the right sand, when I worked with glass blowers they imported their frit from I think a family in Sweden(?) that are like one of the last few people making frit. So glass is actually a very big deal! I digress. Basically, realistically, the fact that they have glass means that they must have some trade.
But that’s completely irrelevant to the movie, isn’t it?
The movie is all about healing from generational trauma, Encanto being completely isolated is better for the movie’s themes. It’s like how we all love the deleted scene where Bruno argues with Alma and says “I wish I was dead” but the writers cut that scene because it gives Bruno confronting Alma on Mirabel’s behalf an extra bit of punch if he was never willing to do so before. Realistically, a deeply unhappy, almost forty adult who is as blunt as Bruno would have had that argument with Alma; thematically, Mirabel’s mysterious Tío couldn’t muster up the courage/passion to confront the movie’s antagonist until he was doing it for love. Realistically, it is actually necessary for Pepa to control her emotions because she can create hurricanes and that sorta disaster could wipe out the village; thematically, Pepa needs to be allowed to let her feelings flow through her without anyone snapping at her about it. Realistically they must have trade; thematically, they must be completely isolated.
There isn’t really a good way for canon to bridge this gap as far as I can tell, in story telling themes usually take precedence over realism, especially in a fantasy setting. But for a lot of people (like me) the funnest thing to do when writing fanfic is throw in a dash of realism and see what comes out of it. Obviously, the way you want to reconcile this is absolutely up to you. I personally care more about the movie sticking to themes than I do it being realistic or conforming to my background knowledge, I’m fully expecting to have most of my head canons disproven when they release more material. That said, for the sake of fic, I think asking questions like “Where are they getting the raw materials to build that” is a great launching pad.
I don’t know how to word my conclusion. That year I spent working with glass blowers is going to butt heads with my suspension of disbelief for the rest of my life? Realism is great for fanfic but not so much in short stories like movies? My head canons will never be canon and it’s better that way?
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dragon-spaghetti · 6 months ago
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Alastor has an uncanny sixth sense for when husk's pain days are Worse and those are the days he decides that having him run around doing errands is a grand idea 😊
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thebiggestfuckgiven · 8 months ago
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a lil prompt for the few dp x marvel gremlins around. i see you and ily.
Be Like Danny:
-> get contacted by the X-freaking-Men to try to get you to join their school for mutants
-> say no because you can’t explain that you’re technically not a mutant, just half-dead
-> live a normal (Fenton standard normal) few months afterwards
-> get kidnapped from your own school by evil scientists (that surprisingly are NOT the GIW)
-> escape facility using your sheer wits (being annoying) and ingenious fighting strategies (screaming and blasting)
-> run away across rooftops from the guards hunting you down while being injured (and holy shit are we in new york??)
-> get distracted by trying to spot the empire state building
-> get shot with a tranquilizer by aforementioned guards
-> painfully fall down into an alleyway, without seeing the empire state building (boo)
-> begin passing out but not before you see some red guy with literal horns (satan??) fight off the baddies after you
-> wake up hours later in satan’s lawyer’s (???) office, confused, dazed, and a little scared
-> pretend to still be passed out while desperately thinking up how to explain why guys with guns were chasing you down in the middle of new york without getting dragged off to the police
-> hope for the best
Random Excerpt-
Matt didn’t feel comfortable leaving the tranq’d (and fully knocked out) teen out in an abandoned alley. Very few people would, out here in Hell’s Kitchen. He also didn’t feel like bringing in a potential new problem into his home, so he decided on the next best place: the office.
Needless to say, Foggy was scared near shitless when Matt burst into their office in full Daredevil regalia with an unconscious boy in his arms. In Matt’s defense, Foggy wasn’t supposed to be here. He sent out a small thanks to God that at least Karen was nowhere to be seen. Heard. Semantics.
“Is that a kid? Oh my god, Matty, are you carrying a dead kid around? Is there a dead kid in our office?”
Language, Matt bit back.
Foggy’s heart beat a violent staccato as he followed Matt into their conference room, breathing stuttering when Matt laid the kid down on the table and his head turned limply to the side, his hair softly shuffling against the metal.
“Matt!”
Foggy waved his hands around wildly, the sound fluttering in Matt’s ears. Without a word, he grabbed Foggy’s arm and dragged him out of the room.
“Please keep calling me by my name in front of a stranger,” he hissed out, annoyed.
“In case it may have passed your attention, that stranger is unconscious. Or dead, for all I know! Because you haven’t said a damn word since you slammed your way in here by the way!” Foggy was whisper shouting, staying close to Matt’s side. He could almost see how Foggy’s eyes were wide, if he tried hard enough. Listened closely enough.
“He’s not dead,” he let out before walking to the front door to lock it and make sure no one was around.
There was a light slap sound as Foggy raised his hands in a pointless gesture and brought them against his legs.
“Oh, yeah, that’s reassuring,” he said to himself, but not bothering to hide it. Matt heard him walk back to the conference room. He held back a sigh, ignoring it for the time being. There hadn’t been anyone following them, but he’s been doing this long enough to know that some people knew how to keep their distance well, or even knew how to disguise their heart beats (God forbid the Hand had any involvement in this). They could even have a tracker on the kid.
Taking all of this into consideration, he would rather be safe than sorry. He was standing by the locked door, listening intently for any odd sounds outside the building or on any surrounding roofs. Like the same footsteps going by, feet shuffling as though someone was waiting, heavy breathing, the smell of gunpowder, or the sound of a bullet moving into its chamber.
He waited, hearing no signs. It was one minute before he heard the exact moment Foggy found the kid’s pulse.
“Matt,” he heard Foggy’s voice, a whisper. “He-he’s dead. He- oh my god, I’m going to be sick.
The kid’s pulse, or to anyone checking by regular means, lack thereof.
Matt waited one more second before moving away from the door to save himself from the stench of throw-up.
“I said he’s not dead.”
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ardentprose · 3 months ago
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Absence Makes the Heart Grow....Fonder
A/N: I'm better at smut than I am fluff. Yet here I am blushing as if I didn't agonize over every delicious dirty detail. This was supposed to be a longer scene but it would end up as a novel so I split it into two scenes. If you want me to write the second scene after this one, let me know!
Type: shameless explicit smut; MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, 18+ ONLY; Foggy Nelson x fem!reader
Length: 3.3k~ | 15 min
Warnings: explicit f/m sex, explicit names for genitals; cursing; masturbation; Foggy in a suit deserves a warning; subtle dom!Foggy undertones if you were inside my head and knew that already; not beta read
Feel free to message me if a necessary warning isn't mentioned.
Summary: After a complicated court case extends your boyfriend's trip, you are desperate for relief. Try as you might on your own, nothing compares to Foggy's touch.
Good thing he just walked in the door.
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You have no shame when it’s been this long.
It was meant to only be a week, but predictable complications with the justice system’s processes extended your boyfriend’s court case another seven days. Whenever he’s gone, you are left to your own devices. Quite literally.
Unfortunately, when you’re this riled up neither your toys nor your own hand is sufficient. Despite the countless times you have the privilege of riding his thicker, more dexterous fingers, you can never replicate the effortless patterns Foggy massages into your clit with just the right pressure to get you off.
Even worse, Foggy has been an outstanding partner while he’s been away. He dutifully texts you several times a day, whether it’s to ask how you are doing, share his thoughts on the case that stole him away from you, or send yet another selfie with his goofy smile and a thumbs up - along with what looks like a perturbed Matt Murdock - in front of some tourist trap in the current city he was in. His ability to ask you follow-up questions about passing comments you had spoken of days ago over the phone, his willingness to call you at bedtime because he knew you were anxious alone at night, and the sincerity in his tone when he admitted he wanted to stay in the hotel room and talk to you rather than go out for drinks with Matt — it was all innocent and very sweet of him.  It makes him such a kind, caring, and thoughtful partner.
It also makes him so fucking hot.
You don’t want to rudely dismiss his texts, so you’ve been keeping your licentious thoughts to yourself for days. In normal circumstances, a flurry of text messages would leave you frustrated with your phone pinging every time you neared the peak. Instead, it only served to edge you into desperation. You were left yearning for him more than ever. And he was absolutely to blame for it too, clueless as he was to your current predicament.
Sex with Foggy usually involved his distinct skill of making you laugh so hard you couldn’t breathe and then making you come so hard you blacked out. Sometimes it was his five ‘o clock shadow whispering against your ticklish thighs. Other times it was because Foggy thought he was a stand-up comedian and liked to test out bits while fully seated inside you. He would pause to deliver a punchline and wait for your endearing giggles to distract you. Love-drunk eyes attentive to your face, he would bask in the moment your laughter evaporated into wanton cries of ecstasy as he resumed fucking you into the mattress without warning. It was his favorite method of unraveling you. You swear he’s trained you with sexual Pavlovian techniques that at this point, you couldn’t even get yourself off without his help.
You didn’t want to interrupt Foggy’s stream of texts rambling about how he found a quaint little cheese shop next to the airport this morning and that he bought way too much cheese and even found one that he thought you could eat as well as enjoy and that he might have been conned into a subscription box…
You didn’t have the heart to send him your current position on your shared bedspread, left hand buried deep in yourself. How could you admit how his sudden cheese rant had not only interrupted your deviant perusal on a private browser, but was also making you laugh so hard you couldn’t concentrate on the task at hand? The situation was becoming dire. Or downright embarrassing if you weren’t so determined to cum at least once on your own.
Hence, your shamelessly sprawled position on the bed, wearing Foggy’s boxers and one of his faded band tees when the front door opens with an audible click.
You scramble from the bed, hopping on one foot to untangle your ankle from the twisted sheets. Glad to be rid of your tireless, unrewarding solitude, your feet fly down the stairs towards the foyer without a second to lose.
Two modest suitcases make their way through the doorway first before Foggy’s hunched figure shuffles in after them.
Before he finishes locking the door, you’re bounding towards your travel-worn lover. No doubt hearing you thunder down the stairs, Foggy turns, tired eyes alighting. He drops the suitcase handle bar just in time to open his arms. You collide into his chest with a satisfying thump.
“Hello, my lo-“
Your lips cut short his greeting. The rest of his words are swallowed by your tongue reacquainting itself with his while your fingers crawl up his shoulders and tug on his hair that inexplicably feels longer since he’s been gone the past two weeks.
Twisting the blond ends before they unravel from your fingertips, your hands scope out his face next, coming down to cradle his fuzzy cheeks as the beginnings of a beard - something new he’s trying out (and achieving incredibly well) - burns your palms. Your thumb brushes over his chin, savoring the new sensation.
Foggy moves his lips in tandem with yours, and you can feel his grin as he squeezes your hips under his large palms in excited reciprocation.
Yet, he dares to pull back from your warm welcome, albeit licking his lips as he does so.
“Good to know I was missed.”
“You don’t know the fucking half of it.” You exhale.
Foggy’s laugh hitches as your hands tug on his belt and he stumbles into you.
“I have a feeling I’m about to find out.” He mutters, grabbing the base of your neck, fingertips on your chin in order to meet you halfway this time in another searing kiss.
You moan, responsive beneath the subtle weight of his hand on your throat and fully press your chest against his torso.
Foggy tries to keep the kiss going as he releases you in order to shed his overcoat, revealing a deep maroon suit beneath. The texture feels like butter and the waistcoat is impressive. The suit was no doubt another expensive investment of his fashion sense. He must have been striking to watch in court, commanding the room visually, however you cannot help feeling as you run your hands over his arms - that he’s wearing too much damn clothing.
“Baby, baby.” Foggy laughs, pecking your lips after each endearment. He tries to catch your wrists, halting your wandering hands that have managed to slip apart his belt buckle. “At least let me take you upstairs.”
“No.”
These past fourteen days were torture, made only worse by the unintentional edging from your fingers failed agility to keep a pace that would be enough to send you into bliss. You’ll be damned if you wait another second.
Foggy’s lips break and he finally acknowledges the lustful inferno of your gaze.
You grab his tie and yank him with a small yelp back to where he belongs, tasting your mouth as you devour his tongue.
“Here.” You speak against his lips. “Now. Please.”
Your hands unbutton his suit jacket, then slide into the jacket sleeves. The fabric drops from his shoulders, leaving him in his matching waistcoat. You reach for it but Foggy beats you to it, his thumbs deftly popping open the brass buttons before he sheds it, leaving him in a wrinkled, white collared button-down.
On any given day, Foggy is easily exhilarated by your affection for him. Right now? He’s beyond aroused by your demanding desire. Usually, things are much more coy between you two. A playful give and take that acts as foreplay until the teasing grows into touching. But here you are, hands pulling the belt from his slacks, desperate only to take, take, take.
If this is what two weeks away earned him, painful as it is to be away from you, he might be tempted to leave more often.
This time, Foggy steps into your space and reconnect your lips. Your fingertips skim the outline of his cock and whatever thought of leaving you alone again evaporates.
Foggy’s arms find your waist and become a vice.    He keens when you reward him with a firm squeeze. His hips return for more, pressing up into your awaiting palm while he backs you into the wall of the entryway.
The coat rack rattles as your shoulder smacks it. You barely feel it, though Foggy exhales an apology and slides you more to the left before your back finds the wall with a vague thud. His leg parts your thighs and you recoil from the wall into his chest, dropping a few inches to writhe up against the thick muscle beneath his slacks.
You turn your chin towards Foggy’s mouth, breath hitching into his own rapid inhales. Foggy presses a kiss into your chin, then drags an open-mouthed kiss up to your ear, full bottom lip leaving a trail of fire in its wake. Like a flower blooming, your head tilts in the opposite direction, opening yourself to your lover and basking in his warmth. He nips the crest of your ear, then placates the sting with a kiss.
You revel in Foggy’s kisses as they come back down your neck, his facial hair scraping against your skin deliciously. Your eyes flutter, overwhelmed by the sensations from his lips, teeth and tongue. Moaning, your thighs lock around his leg, and you grind your hips with more fervor.
Foggy grunts, keeping his thigh pressed against your body. He meets the upturn of your hips with his fingertips slipping beneath the elastic waistband of your- his boxers. He maneuvers his middle finger between your folds and up to circle your clit with an expertise that comes from familiarity alone.
With a shudder, your legs fall open as Foggy intended. His thigh now free, he adjusts his stance, keeping his wrist rotating and grinding against your pelvis so his free hand could shove down his pants and briefs,
The fabric curls around his thighs as Foggy slides his sensitive cock over the elastic band, hand growing slick from his own arousal leaking down the expanse of his dick. It should be alarming how fast you turn him on, but Foggy never hesitates to dive headfirst into your love with abandon every time.
With bitten lip, you eye the weight of his pulsating cock in the grip of his palm. Your hands fall from his biceps to tug his collared shirt up over his stomach. Bringing your nails down over the surface of his stomach, you scratch past his belly button to his happy trail. Foggy nearly whimpers and steps impossibly closer into your breathing space, removing his left hand from between your legs and lavishing his tongue over his glistening fingers like tasting icing from dessert.
“Please.” You whine, eyes threatening to water with how worked up you are from his ministrations. Foggy is no better, his own flushed skin and frenzied eyes making him look feral.
He draws his hand from his mouth, eyelids weighted with lust. His forehead comes to rest against yours, and his eyes meet your pleading gaze before flitting down.
Foggy takes the head of his cock and presses firmly against your clit. He hums a questioning tone, lips parting to ask consent.
You all but growl your assent, shaking fingers falling over his wrist to shove his cock into you. Panting into each others mouths as if the other will provide oxygen, your heads swim with the intoxication from his initial touch.
Foggy in turn grabs your face, squeezing your cheek slightly as his thumb presses past your lips. You nip him as he tries to guide himself in, careful of your comfort. The slow pace scrapes pleasure from your walls and ignites every nerve ending in your body.
Foggy just manages to slide his palm up behind your head, catching you just before you slam your head back into the wall as your hips curve, slotting him against your cervix. Your high and breathy whine harmonizes against his guttural moan pressed into the center of your chest.
Foggy brings his hips back just enough to slam them forwards, pinning you to the wall with each increasingly rapid thrust. Your arms drape over his neck, lackadaisical. Your legs jerk in his large palms which knead and claw and eventually lift you up further and further as he drives into you with relentless fervor.
Your breath punches from your lungs. You can hardly keep your eyes open past alluring slits that look down upon Foggy’s bitten, swollen lips, cherry flushed cheeks, and furrowed brow. Each thrust forces his hair to fall from it’s once professional, gelled back style. A few strands fall between his screwed eyebrows. You manage to lift a free hand to swipe the hair before it tickles his nose, curling it behind his ear and leaving your hand there to cup his cheek as you pull his face upwards to kiss you once more.
Your fingernails scratch against his scalp, his blond hair scrunched in your death grip. It will be tangled and knotted by the time this is over but that only means you get to wash it later, combing it out with an intentionally slow hand, sometimes tugging his head backwards so you can drop a kiss on his parted lips. Perhaps lick into his mouth and repeat another round late into the night.
Your lips curve into a private smirk, amused how even now, while being fucked senseless against the wall of your foyer, you’re still thinking of scenarios in which you and Foggy continue to have sex all night.
Foggy ends the kiss with a bite and sucks your bottom lip into his mouth. His short nails burn your thighs as they creep towards your ass. His gold watch is a cold contrast against heated skin as he shoves you towards him again and again, beginning to fuck into you with abandon. He always gets aggressive when he nears his climax and you take full advantage, instigating in any way possible in order to drive him even more insane.
You anchor your hands in his hair and rock into his thrusts. His breathing escalates into strained exhales through clenched teeth. Then his eyes snap shut and his head rolls towards the ceiling.
“Fuck.”
You feel his abdomen spasm against yours as he comes. He leans into you, the length of his body pressing you into the wall and keeping you pinned there as his cock head twitches against your cervix.
You gasp into his neck. The heat of his seed and the jerky pumps of his wavering hips fray the last of your nerves. Black stars explode across your vision. Your throat seizes your exhale, releasing a strained cry as you arch into Foggy’s embrace..
Coming back up to cradle your head again, Foggy’s fingers scratch at your scalp. It’s the sting of his nails that gradually ropes you down to the material plane once more.   
You crumple into Foggy’s embrace. His dress shirt is now sheer with sweat. You eye his arms, appreciative of the biceps that have held you against the wall this entire time.
“You alright, baby?”
Foggy kisses your forehead three times, lips brushing your sweaty temple.
You can only moan, the last spasms of your cunt making him stumble slightly as he lowers your feet back to the earth - or rather, the hardwood of your hallway.
Your forehead lands on his chest, using the rise and fall of his breath to steady your own gasps. Your fingers tremble as they make their way up and attempt to curl around the loosened tie that is one wrong move from falling from Foggy’s shoulders.
Foggy brings his palm down over your sweaty hair, leaves a light squeeze at your neck, then starts to run patterns up and down your back. His other hand remains on your waist, keeping you stable, but you still feel the slight tremor of his own fingertips pressing into your hip.
Another moment of quiet passes before Foggy’s hand comes forward to catch your chin, tilting your face up to his searching eyes.
You give him a lazy, sedated smile, satisfaction shining in your eyes. It makes the corners of his swollen pink lips quirk up.
“Welcome home.”
Foggy’s lips part to respond. Before you remember moving, your own teeth are pulling his full bottom lip into your mouth and sucking it with abandon.
Foggy chuckles, moans, and attempts to break the kiss as you nip at his retreating mouth. , He finally presses against the base of your neck to hold you still.
Your pulse thrums to life beneath the weight of his thumb and forefinger brushing your clavicle. By the slight shake of his head and disbelieving smirk, you know you must be staring at him with those faux doe eyes that have inevitably brought him to his knees many a past night.
Foggy says your name, firm but expression gentle.
“Don’t get me wrong, I love making you feel good - and I plan on doing so the rest of the night,” Foggy bumps his forehead into yours and pecks your lips with a grin. “But I also just missed you. Seriously, how are you?”
Your pout bursts into a smile under his soft admission.
“I missed you too.” You nose at him, tempted to kiss that adorable grin of his again but resist. You squeeze his shoulders.
“I’m sorry if I came on a little strong, but I-“
Foggy cuts you off with his own quick kiss and pulls back with a smirk.
“Honey, you can come on me anytime you wish.”
“Foggy!” You roll your eyes, annoyed at how you laugh so easily at such a terrible joke.
“You just said you missed me. Don’t you wanna know how my day went before fucking me again?”
You relish the flicker of lust in his baby blues before Foggy shakes his head, trying to stay on task.
“Yes. Yes, yeah, definitely. I missed you and your voice and our apartment and I wanna know everything you were too lazy to text me.”
He says this while stepping away from you in order to adjust his pants over himself again. Then he turns to gather up his belongings that were haphazardly thrown to the ground when you pounced.
“Hey.” You grab his carry-on as you protest. “I’m not lazy. You just text full-blown essays that no one else has the time to respond to in matching detail.”
You yelp as he swats your ass, following you through the kitchen, towards the staircase.
“You said you liked my long texts. That I’m very thorough.”
“That’s one way to put it.” You snort. “I don’t think you can help your long-winded messages. It’s the lawyer in you.”
“Ha, ha. I’ve never heard that one.”
You turn on the current step, midway up the staircase.   
“Oh, Foggy.” Your smirk grows as he balks at your sultry tone, eyelids lowering and lips parting on cue.
“Don’t misunderstand me. I enjoy that mouth of yours and just how thorough it can be.”
Foggy eyes flit all over your form before meeting you against with such intensity your heart rate picks up.
“What can I say, you’re my favorite case study.”
“Come on!” You throw your head back, moment ruined as his boisterous laugh echoes against the walls.
You continue up the rest of the stairs. Foggy ventures up the rest of the way behind you with a self-satisfied smile dimpling his cheeks. He hits the landing just as you turn into your bedroom.
“If I’m your favorite case to study, how about a dissertation?” You call out of sight.
Foggy rolls his eyes, ignoring how his heart skips at your giggles.
“First of all, that’s not what they’re called and second-“
Before he reaches the doorway, you lean into the hall, top half devoid of the faded band t-shirt.
“Second?”
“Second….Fuck it!” Foggy drops his luggage once again.
“I’m about to have seconds.” Any response at his corny humor evaporates when Foggy darts forward, chasing your giggling, retreating form into the bedsheets for the rest of the night.
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chvoswxtch · 1 year ago
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listen I don’t care who you are or what you believe in but foggy nelson is on tiktok and he definitely knows the margarita song and sings it all the time in his office and matt can’t stand it (especially when he comes home exhausted at 2am but can hear foggy singing it drunkenly a few blocks away) but it’s catchy and gets stuck in his head and he ends up singing it absentmindedly while looking through some documents one day and foggy loses it bc his friend is a slut and that song is perfect for him
thx for coming to my ted talk
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