#the one fill valve was just as much of a pain in the ass as i knew it was going to be | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nyxthesis · 2 years ago

Text

Advanced Warfare Infection (Burger town) Exo Zombies Review

+Map has two solid training spots which is much better then outbreak

+the maps ending saw the introduction of Bruce Campbells character to the mix

+has a better trap selection than outbreak especially the one on top of burger town itself

Cons:

-Oz felt even more unbearable to play as then in outbreak which would be fine if you could just mute the characters and nothing else but no you can't, a feature that was in world at war was not in advanced warfare, that to me is just embarrassing

-easter egg step with the valves and meat have to many spawn locations to memorize, well you can memorize them but fuck is it alot to remember and with zombies bleeding out and qurentine rounds making it so maybe the area your looking for the meat is unavailable just makes the process take way to long

-the wonder weapon is not too bad power wise but it is severely lacking in the ammo department to the point I don't think it's worth using it your going for high rounds

-with all the rng that the map already has they felt the need to make one step where you need the maps wonder weapon, all you do is shoot the meat, that step felt like an excuse to make you use the wonder weapon beacuse why else would you use it

-surivor rounds are one of the worst things in zombies history, it ruins the flow or rythem that you maybe developing (which is a huge theme with this map) and the survivors are almost impossible to protect and if you fail to protect them you get punished heavily, every generator shuts down so you can't buy perks but on top of that you can't buy ammo for wall weapons or upgrade your guns so on a map with a wonder weapon with shit ammo you get punished for what feels like way to long by not being able to even get ammo or hell even hit the box/3d printer all you can really do is wait and it is the most mind numbing thing in zombies having to wait to even get a weapon but that's not all of you do somehow manage to save them what's your reward? All you get is the current weapon you're holding upgraded by one rank..... That's just plain insulting weapon upgrades cost 2 500 points/credits which you can get in no time at all so the rewards are just pointless, a waste of time like everything on this map speaking of wastes of time

-quarentine rounds make it so one of three main area's (excluding the damn sewer of course) are filled with gas that leaves you infected but to make this even better when you get to later rounds 2 areas cam get shut down and if your unlucky they will be the areas you can upgrade your weapon to get more ammo making the maps ammo issue even worse, I even heard that eventually all 3 areas can get locked down at once leaving you no choice but to go into the sewers speaking of the sewers

-the sewers are so dark and grey that it's hard to see which would be bad enough if it weren't for those annoying as hell steps that you need to look for the valves or meat and besides just the sewers this has to be the most ugly map in zombies history just looking at it makes me want to vomit with how desaturated it looks

-the goliath could have been a good boss enemy if not for the devs giving him emp abilites which were annoying enough with the regular emp zombies so that makes him just a pain in the ass and in general he's just a annoying bullet spunge that beacuse his shield there is no great way to take him out fast from what I could tell

-the easter egg step where you have to season the golden pan (yes I know it's as stupid as it sounds) has almost no room to train the zombies and they are too fast and agressive for you to be able to make space making it feel like a death sentence but no it's needed for this god forsaken easter egg

-the easter egg it's self just fucking sucks, it's not fun, it's not interesting hell even the set piece of launching the rocket feels joyless with how miserable this map is and what are you even trying to do for most of the egg you may ask? Building a burger. That's right your main quest is building a damn burger and the game takes it dead serious, what a joke

-there is still dog rounds but they spawn in with zombies so remember that ammo issue I mentioned earier, well now you don't have that gimme easy max ammo round to keep you from running out too easy

-there is only one disinfection chamber and it's so far out of the way that if your hit on a host round you have to book it to the chamber as fast as possible to even have a chance I swear this map fails in everyway

Overall I may have forgotten some flaws this map has it has that many but there is no doubt in my mind that this is easily the worst map In all of zombies and it will take alot for any map to over take it

0 notes

michaelmyersmalewife · 4 years ago

Text

the unsettling awareness of your own heartbeat 1/?

- sephiroth/reader

- sfw

“The hell, man?”

With a sharp jerk of your wrists, you flipped the headset above your eyes, roughly shoving your hair up at the crown that gave you the vague appearance of a hastily arranged bird’s nest. Seconds ago, you were cutting down Shinra grunts on the Midgar highway like they were nothing but flowers. And now you were standing in a dome, adrenaline still buzzing through your veins. As the sim around you dissolved in a shower of 1’s and 0’s, the source of the interruption blotted out the light from the training room’s exit. Standing across from you - draped in black and wearing a grave face that would’ve made a skeleton shiver - was your mentor.

Sephiroth was an obelisk of a man, tall and lean and not unlike one of the statues you’d see guarding the churches in Sector 5’s slums.

“Least you could do is give me a warning before you pull me out like that.” you whined as you rolled your shoulders with a satisfying pop. “I was doing just fine before you rudely interrupted.”

“‘Just fine’ won’t cut it when you’re face-to-face with Wutai soldiers.” he said, crossing his arms. “You can do better. I’ve seen you do better.”

Sephiroth always spoke in a calm manner (as if he wasn’t already a pain in the ass to read), but since taking you under his wing you had come to recognize the many different flavors in which that calm manifested itself. And this was specially reserved for when he was very, very tired.

Feeling your palms prickle, you shoved your pair of shortswords back in their scabbards.

“Right.” you nodded curtly, setting the headset back in its charging port and already meaning to leave before he could cite some vaguely-worded and slightly cryptic advice. “There’s always tomorrow, right?”

Sidestepping in front of you in one fluid motion, Sephiroth peered down at you with an icy gaze. Craning your neck upward at an uncomfortable angle so that you weren’t eye-to-chest, you ground your foot into the floor.

“So we’re good tomorrow?”

He was as rigid as a glacier, and just as vocal. You sighed.

“Permission to return to quarters, sir?” you grumbled.

“Denied.”

You wheezed out a bitter laugh. Sometimes you wondered if he got off on bossing you around, but the notion of Sephiroth getting off to anything was enough to send you reeling.

“I thought you wanted to make 1st.”

A pithy breeze flashed in front of you, and it took you a second too long to realize there was a sword directed at your sternum. You stumbled backward, only barely finding your balance.

“What-“

“Don’t worry, this won’t be a fight.” he said, slowly inching Masamune forward until you had no choice but to walk backwards. “Think of it as a dialogue.”

You steadied the heavy thump of your heart as you straightened yourself, lifting your chin maybe just a little too high in a feeble attempt at hiding your nerves. The only time you had ever faced your mentor in a fight was the day he chose to train you out of a flock of other SOLDIERs. It was a punishing session, and in the end he had disarmed you in three moves. You had heard later from the other recruits that that was the longest anyone had lasted.

“Isn’t that the opposite of what you should be teaching me?”

“A SOLDIER isn’t just their kill count.”

Unsheathing your swords, you let slip a snort. “Easy for you to say.”

“I mean it.” he said, fortifying his stance as the room melted back into the sim.

“You’re getting sloppy. Good form, but no tact. When you accept those as parts of you,” he said, nodding toward your swords. “And not just a tool, everything else becomes an afterthought.”

He was awfully serious today - and he had practically cornered the market on being serious - but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you just a little nervous. You were used to aloof Sephiroth - succinct nods of approval and pointed glares of disapproval, both marked by a signature silence that could fill a room. Talking someone’s ear off wasn’t something Sephiroth was known for (or particularly good at, if you were being honest), but when he did, man was it weird.

In that time, you were back in the sim, now finding yourself standing outside a Shinra facility - a mako refinery, if the acrid odor drifting beneath the thick, briny scent of seawater gave you any indication. The two of you were standing on just one of the massive metal-plated pipes that fed into the factory. Jutting out the side of a cliff like a blossoming giant, a mess of pipes and valves, it faced a sea.

The environment around the facility was in a perpetual state of dusk, the sun sitting just above the water’s horizon, with clouds in shades of pink and gold that hovered wistfully in the sky. The last of the day’s blue disappearing into a day that would never come. The sea itself was dark, lazily churning against the face of the cliff, the sun’s light refracting into thousands of tiny gems on its surface.

Sephiroth took no time to admire the sim’s flawlessly randomized recreation - raising the hilt of his sword up to his eye level while keeping his right hand close to his body, shifting his weight on one foot while the other stayed back, ready to spring him forward at a moment’s notice. Taking his cue, you balanced yourself, holding your swords out in front of you in an x-shape.

The corner of his mouth quirked up in a tiny, self assured smirk (though, to the untrained eye, resembled more an involuntary twitch of muscle than anything), blinking long and slow. Your teeth worried at the inside of your cheek. Had he made you wait any longer and you think you would’ve broken skin.

But before you could worry a hole through your cheek, 7 feet of sinewy muscle charged at you like a bullet shot from a gun. His sword clashed against yours with an ear-splitting clang, the ringing of metal running down the tips of your fingers. Grunting at the force pushing back at you, you slid one sword out from under Masamune, slashing the air between you and effectively getting him to step the fuck off.

He bounced back, landing gracefully on the tips of his toes like a dancer coming down from a leap. His eyes narrowed, but there was a twinkling in his pupils. Normally, a beaming Sephiroth would’ve been a sight to commemorate, preferably behind a neat little frame set on a desk somewhere. But it only gave you one thought: Shit.

In a very short space of time, you were standing face to face with your superior once again, his sword slamming into the broad, flat side of your right hand’s blade. You had barely raised it in time, and he had only given you a moment to prepare yourself against a barrage of attacks, somehow managing to parry each one.

“You block too much. You’re a sword, not a shield.” he said, almost sounding bored.

You would’ve responded with any number of pieces of crude backchat that you’d accumulated since training under him, but the man hardly gave you time to breathe let alone think.

Each twitch of his sword was a masterpiece of technique. He fought like a well-oiled machine, inevitable, bloodless, with absolute awareness of the power he held. It was beautiful, or, it would be if you weren’t on the receiving end of his advances. He was fast, inhumanly, unfairly fast. And with his equally unfair reach, it was a miracle if you ever came close to landing a hit on him. The man had some cruel agreement with gravity.

After your nth parry and a last minute pass back, you held Masamune in place, running your left blade down its length. His eyebrows briefly twitched upward before flicking his sword up, sending your blades down and away. But in a flash, you lunged forward, cutting just beneath his chin and hacking away thin slivers of his bangs. You were about to allow yourself a smirk, maybe even a ‘hmph’ born from pride and amusement.

What happened instead was something so irritating it didn’t register with you until you were slammed to the floor. Pivoting away from an overhead slash, he - very gently - tucked his blade underneath yours, sending another bone-ringing clang through you like a bell. And (incredibly obnoxiously) he used your weight against you, forcing you backward. But, in a last-ditch effort to not look like a fool, you stuck one leg out - effectively killing any chance of recovery but by Gaia were you gonna take him down with you.

You staggered backward like a flimsy piece of rubber, hitting the ground with a thump as your swords clattered on either side of you. Of course, Sephiroth landed with grace - hardly falling at all so much as shifting himself in tune with your otherwise graceless tumble. And yet - despite being perfectly fine, actually - he wore an uncharacteristically poleaxed expression, his lips hanging slightly open like a man caught mid-practical joke.

The sim had already disappeared, the panel next to your head flickering off and on before completely shuttering off a few seconds behind the rest.

That was when the sound of cracks splitting across the floor met your ears. His sword had pierced the tile mere centimeters away from where your forehead was, drowning out the sound of blood rushing to your ears. Sephiroth stood hunched over you like a gargoyle, one knee drawn up to his abdomen while the other pressed hard into the floor, effectively caging you in black leather and silver hair. Tucked between cold tile and an even colder man, you couldn’t get back up if you wanted to.

“Was that good enough for you?” you wheezed, feeling like a pair of bricks had been shoved in your rib cage.

He studied you with close scrutiny and a blank expression, hardly winded but breathing quietly, evenly. You could never tell what he was thinking, even this close. You had resigned yourself with the thought that you never will.

“Dismissed.” he ordered, finally.

Pulling himself up, he tugged Masamune out from where it had wedged itself, stepping over you without so much as a look back.

You tried to sit up, only managing to lift your head before a singular phlegm-raddled cough sent you thudding back to the floor, dazed and hot - uncomfortably so, like you had been tossed in a furnace. Feeling the muscles in your arms and legs cry for mercy, you decided to lay there. Just for a few minutes more.

#sephiroth #sephiroth x reader #ff7 #ffvii #final fantasy 7 #crisis core #ff7 crisis core #my fics

90 notes · View notes

shadowsfiguresfigments-blog · 4 years ago

Text

A good place to die Chapter 26 (smut)

Warning: Harsh language, violence, smut

He was all over me, literally. Whilst he kept my lips and tongue busy with his, his hands roamed across my body, gently caressing every square inch of it. The last tattered remains of my clothes fell off, but his silken gloves kept me warm against the cold air. I sucked on his lower lip to encourage him further, and in response he leaned into me. The sensation of his touch multiplied, and during a breath pause to draw breath I opened my eyes. Penny had sprouted another two pairs of arms, giving him a slightly spider-like appearance.

Whilst he played with my hair, he simultaneously worjed my erect nipples, kneading them; pinching them just enough to illicit a sweet stinging pain. And all the while his hands wandered down further, along my hips, in between my thighs. I pressed harder against him, the familiar desperate yearning overcoming any sense of self-control I had left. There needn’t be any more barriers between us, nothing to separate us – I had been inside him, literally, for fuck’s sake – and I tore at his clothes, fighting against the last veil of silk that stood between us.

His chuckle was barely audible, more of a deep rumble that went through his body right into mine. The hands in my hair disappeared and the pressure against me lessened, but before I could protest his fingers slipped inside me. My insides clamped down on him in an unconscious effort to pull him further along, and their effort was rewarded; Penny’s finger went deeper and deeper into me, as if they were growing in length. The weirdest sensation filled my stomach – his gloves, he must have popped his gloves – and a heartbeat later he touched that sweet, sweet spot.

I screamed as the orgasm hit me like a sledge hammer, but Penny was nowhere near done. His body pressed back against mine, finally rid of clothes and all decency, and he held me so tight I was no longer able to breathe properly. He was still mercilessly working my pussy, but another hand made its way between my ass cheeks. I briefly and very feebly thought about protesting, but in response he pressed against my G-spot again. Whether it was because I was dripping wet or by some transformation of his, his fingers quickly spread some hot liquid around my asshole. Then he inserted one.

One moment, there was the sensation of having soiled myself; then he pushed through the barrier and there was some pain. It didn’t last long, though, as having him inside both front and back quickly overwhelmed me. Still, it wasn’t enough for him. His tongue swelled up, almost forcing my jaws apart, and picked up the rhythm of his fingers as it thrust deeper and deeper into me. As he had swallowed me whole, enveloping me completely, he now filled my up with himself in every way possible. I no longer could feel any ending to my body, nor the beginning of his; all of my senses were filled with him alone.

Again, there was a brief pause as he withdrew his fingers from my pussy, then he shoved his dick into me. I came immediately, and this time it lasted. Wave after wave hit me, eroding my sense of self further and further. Something was different from all the times we had had sex before – something inside me had changed. It resonated with Penny in a way that was difficult to understand – like two sound waves with just the right frequency to suddenly amplify each other.

That resonance almost tore me apart, and I screamed on the top of my lungs as Penny shuddered and came.

The following week was entirely governed by the last minute preparations for both Bee’s return as well as the store opening, which would coincide. With Auntie’s help I fought my way through the rooms and seemingly unending layers of garbage and dirt. Thankfully Bee had already declared her intentions to renovate the whole apartment by herself, and she had spent countless hours picking colors and some new furniture from catalogs. The little insurance money she got wouldn’t allow for much more, but her DIY-attitude had significantly improved over the last days. We just made sure the dirt was gone and that the facilities worked; which they did. Still, by the time I was done every evening I did little more than hit the shower and fall into bed.

Penny found his own way to keep me company – he usually waited in my room, made good use of the phone I had gotten him, and occasionally accompanied me on my ways in the form of a big orange tabby. At night he would cradle me in his arms, making our fight seem like nothing more than a bad dream.

I didn’t have the energy to discuss it any further, either; nor could I bring myself to tell him I still felt rather overwhelmed by the sex we had had. It was a weird, uncomfortable balance that I just couldn’t deal with.

He had carried me home that night, wrapped into silk-like sheets he had miraculously produced, and he had washed me in our tiny shower. I was still entirely beside myself – I didn’t even spend a thought on auntie – and just stood there as he rinsed away his cum that poured out of my body.

He even tucked me into bed.

When the big day finally arrived, I was too tired to feel the least bit excited. I almost fell asleep twice during school, but fortunately no one noticed. It was Friday, and I was excused for the last lesson (P.E.), so I got to leave early. That also meant there was no chance of any potential bully waiting for me, and I didn’t bother checking my bike for any manipulations, as there hadn’t been any for quite a while. Of course, that didn’t turn out too well – somebody had opened the valves of my tires, and by the time I got to the shop, there was no air left in them. I didn’t care, though, as I had to prepare the little buffet auntie had organized for me (nothing major, just some tea and coffee, and some cupcakes she had surprised me with in the morning). After I finished that, I went through the registry and my documents for the last time, in a desperate attempt to not think about Penny and focus on the task at hand.

A quick glance at my watch told me that I had about fifteen minutes left before the official opening hours started. I briefly wondered whether anyone would show up at all – Auntie and I had invested in some flyers, and we had distributed them both at her working place as well as my school. I had also thrown the remaining ones into random mail boxes on my various ways. Despite that, my reputation might very well end up keeping any potential customer from actually seeking the store – my store, I reminded myself – out.

For the first time in a long while I thought back to Yaneesha, Shot and the other idiots that despised me so much. The reason for their unwavering hate was still very much of a mystery to me, but I couldn’t bring myself to wish them harm. After all, they had ultimately suffered bigger losses than I did, and ever since Yaneesha had left school, I hadn’t been physically attacked anymore.

At least not by humans.

I sighed and unlocked the doors.

To my big surprise a couple of people entered while I was putting out the huge board I had painted. They roamed around the shelves, and a tiny silver-hair lady even told me how happy she was that the store was open again. I vaguely remembered her face and came to the conclusion that she was one of the very few somewhat regular visitors. Didn’t she have a fondness for novels? I directed her towards some new arrivals, which prompted my first successful sale.

It was somewhat difficult to believe, and the whole situation felt unreal. Something about the ordinariness was quite at odds with the crazy circus my life had become. I answered questions, recommended books, and made a couple of other sales. It wasn’t much, but still a whole lot more than what I’d expected – nothing.

Auntie joined me after I had been open for ninety minutes, and I could tell how tired she was. We both forced smiles, and despite my best efforts, she insisted on staying with me, though her face grew paler by the minute. Just when I had convinced her to sit down and stop fussing, her face lit up with recognition.

“Oh, you didn’t tell me he was coming. How nice!”

I whirled around just to see Benny-Penny standing outside the store, a red balloon on a string in his hands. For some reason that really touched me – I was just glad auntie sat behind me, so she couldn’t see the stupid smile spreading across my face. I rushed out and grasped his hands.

“I’m so glad you’re here”, I gushed. “I can’t believe you’re willing to go through this… Are you okay?”

He nodded, a familiar twinkle in his eyes, and handed me the balloon. It even read “Congratulations” on it. After quickly wiping my eyes I ushered him inside, ignoring the weird vibrations that built up in my stomach.

Penny looked utterly out of place, a wonderful mixture of awkwardness and otherworldly beauty that was just a tick off – probably not enough for anyone to realize but enough to cause the other visitors to show signs of unease. It was almost comical – a guy in a rather fancy suit started fiddling with his tie, a young girl put her jacket back on, and a group of teens moved closer together. Despite the fact that it wasn’t a good thing unnerve the people who I was supposed to sell to, it was still entertaining to observe. And I couldn’t help myself but marvel at his human form; the way his muscles visibly moved beneath the thin, tight sweater he was wearing; the way that ass looked in that pair of jeans; the way his movements were still the same as in his clown form.

I quickly went into the back room and tied the balloon to my backpack, not wanting to leave Penny alone for too long; but by the time I had returned he sat beside auntie and they chatted away merrily. He laughed – that wonderful, over-the-top crazy laugh of his, and shook his head. Auntie smiled, said something and started chuckling. For a moment she looked much younger, the stress lines fading, and my heart started hurting again.

How I wished I could see her like that every day.

I joined them, but I admittedly didn’t pay much attention, nor contribute much to the conversation – I was just content to see auntie and Benny-Penny happy. My odd behavior wasn’t noticed, though; Benny told one joke after another, and soon, my costumers had circled around us, joining in on the laughs. From time to time I could have sworn I saw a glint of something in Benny’s eyes, but it always disappeared so quickly I couldn’t be sure.

It was a rather pleasant experience to have him around. Time flew by quickly, and making sales felt like something I did on the side whilst I was mainly focusing on Benny. Finally the last pulk of people left the store, and I waved after them. Auntie stood up and started cleaning the buffet table; throwing away crumbled napkins and stacking plates. I offered to help, but she refused me; so I started counting the money I had made. When she left to bring the plates upstairs to the apartment, I dropped all pretence and threw myself into Benny’s arms.

“Thank you for coming”, I whispered, somewhat at a loss at how to convey the deep gratitude I felt.

He just patted my head, but I could feel how exhausted he was. I understood all too well – being around other humans and having to act normally was difficult enough for me, and I was part of their race. I reached up and cradled his cheek in my hand.

“I will make this up to you, I promise.”

Benny’s head shot up so fast I didn’t realize he had moved for a second.

Something was wrong.

His face had become devoid of emotion, the smile that had just been there completely gone, and there was an orange hue in his eyes. He stood utterly still.

“What’s the matter?”

“One of them is coming closer.”

“Who?”

“One of them.”

It took me a second to put his words and his behavior together.

“You mean… the ones that hurt you?”

He nodded, his eyes turning ever more orange. I took his hands and pulled him around to face me.

“Listen, if you need to get out of here, go. But I don’t think you’re in danger – you look like a human, you’re in a fucking bookstore, and besides, I’m not going to let anyone hurt you, okay?” That had absolutely no effect whatsoever. He was still as tense as before. “Penny, I promise, you’re safe.”

He slowly lowered his eyes, exhaling loudly. Not even a second later, he tensed up again. This time, he was watching someone outside. I turned around and saw two young men walking down the street. They held brown paper bags and yelled loudly, pushing each other constantly. My somewhat rusty instinct for bad situations told me they were trouble.

“They want to trash your shop.”

I didn’t even question him; I was too focused on the fact that they had changed direction and were now clearly walking up to us.

“I won’t allow that.” I reached into my pocket for my phone, with every intention to call the cops, but this time, Penny grabbed my hands. He had the weirdest little smile, and his left eye started drifting to the side. For some reason, I got goosebumps. I could only watch as he left me and stood in front of the duo. They shouted something, he replied, and the three of them walked away.

What was I supposed to do? I still had my phone in my hand, and I contemplated dialing 911. But what should I say? That I had possibly evaded big trouble? That my killer clown boyfriend had just left with the troublemakers and they’d better start searching for the leftovers, if there would be any? And that Pennywise might be in danger? Hello officer, you know, there’s this creature that kills and feeds on humans, and I love him very much, and he got spooked, so could you please start an investigation, and by the way, clean up after him?

“Where’d he go?”

Auntie had come back to me and looked out the door. I shook my head, gathering my jumbled thoughts.

“Oh, his mom called, he’s supposed to help her with something.”

“It was nice of him to stop by.”

“Yeah, very nice.” I still stared at the corner around which they had disappeared, as if I could make my gaze bend around it to follow them and make sure everything was okay.

“Is everything alright? Did you quarrel?”

“Oh no, I guess I’m just… a little overwhelmed with everything.” My attempt at a reassuring smile was bad at best, but somehow auntie bought it.

“Oh well, it’s been some hectic weeks for both of us.”

I nodded. A quick glance at my phone told me it was time to close down. That, thankfully, wouldn’t take long. However, there was still-

“Look who’s come!”

For the second time that day, a very welcome visitor approached the store. This time it wasn’t my favorite alien killer clown, it was Bee; with a large suitcase in hand and a warm smile on her face.

#pennywise #pennywise fanfiction #agptd

14 notes · View notes

ladyreapermc · 5 years ago

Text

Fic: Thank you kindly, Sir (Keanu x Reader)

Summary: AU. your car broke down in the middle of nowhere, fortunately a kind soul stopped to help.

Read Part 2 Here

Author’s notes: I don’t even have an excuse for this one. Pure filth, but feedback is always appreciated. Also, I know nothing about cars. I just did some googling to make it sound remotely real. Sorry for the mess.

Wordcount: 2050

Warnings: smut (oral - male receiving; dirty talk)

“Come on! Work your stupid hunk of metal!” you shouted, kicking the tire and regretting immediately your actions as a shot of throbbing pain rushed through your leg muscles, making everything ache but your frustration was more than understandable.

You were in the middle of nowhere, at night, alone and your car refused to start.

You were supposed to get from San Francisco to Los Angeles for an audition. You considered taking a bus or a plane because your piece of crap car had seen better days and you had been afraid it wouldn’t make the journey, but by the time you were done with the things you needed to do back home, it was too late for either other options so you settled for trusting your car.

Worst. Idea. Ever.

It started choking up about 50 miles from LA. The sun had started to set and you knew you should probably stop and get a mechanic to check it out but there was a big chance that he would want to keep the car for appraisal and you didn’t have time for that. Yet another terrible decision on your part.

You kept ignoring the coughing and wheezing until a small billow of smoke started to come out of the hood and by then it was too late, you had to pull over on the shoulder to take a look. The only problem was that you knew absolutely nothing about cars so you just stared at the metal guts of your vehicle, the searing air making you cough and step aside, the smell of burned oil and something else you didn’t know filling your nostrils uncomfortably.

Resigning to your incompetency, you closed the hood again, deciding to drive back to the gas station you had seen a couple of miles back but of course, by then the car refused to start and here you were, stuck and desperate, your phone constantly beeping, signally low battery.

You had already called road assistance, but they would take at least an hour to arrive. This was so not your day.

Leaning against the hood, you adjusted the skirt of your floral dress and pinned your hair up on the top of your head. Summers in California could be so unforgiving. Even at night, there was barely any breeze and you could feel the sweat sticking uncomfortably to your skin, especially your brow, nape, and the valley of your breast.

You started slightly when you heard the noise of a powerful engine and turned just in time to see a motorcycle pulling up behind your car, a figure clad in all black on top. You felt tension taking hold of your muscles and you let the key of your car fit between your knuckles just in case you had to do some damage

“Car trouble?” the man asked, taking off his helmet and all you could make out was dark hair and beard.

“Yes. Road assistance is in their way,” you announced, hoping he would take as a warning, but he just swung a long leg over the body of the bike, and you realized how tall he was. When he took off his leather jacket, you managed to see the broad shoulders and part of you felt a bolt of exhilaration, but the sane part just felt afraid.

“May I take a look?” he asked, taking a step forward hands in full display for you. “I’m a mechanic.”

You hesitated, glancing from him to your car. Now he had stepped into the light, you could see a tanned face marked by the years, but so much kindness in his brown eyes that you just nodded, stepping aside so he could approach.

“I’m Keanu, by the way.”

Offering your name back at him, you watched as he nimbly got the hood open and used the flashlight of his phone to take a look into the engine. You couldn’t help but admire the tight shape on his ass on the jeans he was wearing, or the bulging of his biceps on the grey t-shirt he was wearing. The fabric seemed to struggle against the flexing of muscles. You bit your lip, feeling warm again but for a very different reason. Keanu was a very handsome man, that was undeniable, but he was a complete stranger and obviously much older than you. You shouldn’t even let your mind go there.

“Here’s the problem.” The sudden sound of his gravelly voice made you jump. “Your PCV valve is clogged.”

“I have no idea what that is,” you said, coming to stand next to him and Keanu chuckled, pointing at something that you barely registered, too busy staring at the drop of sweat trickling down his temple.

“Do you have a rag or something?” he asked, glancing at you and you wondered how much of your lust he could see in your eyes.

“Hm, not really,” you said, bending over the open window of the passenger side to rummage your glove compartment. “I have paper tissues.”

“That won’t work.” You turned back at him and Keanu didn’t even bother to disguise the way he was checking out your ass and you smirked, slanting back to his side.

He was already elbow-deep into the bowels of your car, pushing wires and tubes aside until he came out with something that looked a bit like a small spout, which he used the hem of his shirt to clean.

“Hold this,” he asked handing you his phone, his hands stained with grease. You obeyed and Keanu took a closer look, blowing into the valve, before, putting it back in place and brushing the back of his hand over his brow, leaving dark stains against the root of his hair.

“Try it now.”

You handed the phone back to him, getting into the driver’s seat only far enough to turn the ignition. The car choked and spluttered but it did come to life and you squealed in delight.

“It’s just a temporary fix,” he warned, cleaning his hands on his jeans and slamming the hood shut. “And I think I spotted at least five other things that need replacement. Honestly, that car is a piece of shit. I’m surprised it’s even running.”

“I just need it to get to Los Angeles,” you said tilting your head back to look at Keanu. He was looming over you as you were still sitting but your legs hung on the outside of the open door. “I have an audition.”

“It should hold until them,” he said, hand on his back pocket and taking out a card, handing it to you. “That’s my shop. Bring it by and I’ll make sure to give you a good deal.”

“Thanks,” you grinned at him, thumb rubbing over the embossed red letters. “And thank you for stopping. You truly saved me now.”

“It’s alright,” he smiled at you, running a hand over his short hair. “It’s not safe for a young woman to be alone on the side of the road like this. You should head out. Call road assistance on the way. It’s getting late.”

Keanu took a step away from you, probably ready to go back to his bike and walk out of your life. Before you could think too much about it, you grabbed his hand, making him stop and glance back at you with an arched eyebrow.

“Please, let me thank you for your kindness.” You looked at him through your lashes, sucking your lower lip into your mouth as you spread your legs very suggestively and Keanu’s eyes widened slightly.

“You don’t have to…”

“I want to,” you cut him off, tugging on his hand gently to bring him closer until he was standing in front of you, his crotch right in your line of sight. “Please.” You ran your hands up his strong thighs, pausing on the waistband of his jeans as you looked up at Keanu, waiting for his nod of confirmation.

With a smug smirk, you undid his pants, pulling down along with his underwear, only enough to let his cock out. You weren’t the only one to be aroused by your interaction, because his large dick was already semi-hard and it only took a few tugs of your hand to bring it to full hardness.

Keanu had a glorious cock. Long and thick, with a slight curve and when you licked up the underside vein, he grunted and slammed his fist on the roof of the car. The power of his strike making you jump, your heart thundering and your cunt throbbing in desperation. He was the kind of man that always attracted you: tall, dark, and handsome, with a mysterious vibe about him. Powerful enough to break you in half and the thought of it was enough to send a rush of wetness into your panties.

You coated his length with saliva, exploring every vein and ridge, teasing Keanu by dipping your tongue in the slit of his head, tasting his precum before engulfing the tip in your mouth and sucking hard.

“Fuck!” he growled, his hips snapping forward slightly but you were ready for it and the movement didn’t choke you too much. “You’re good at this,” he commented, his voice lower and throaty. “You like sucking cock, huh? Are you soaking that seat from having me in your mouth?”

You groaned at his words, bobbing your head and hollowing your cheeks, taking as much of him as you could and stroking the rest, making sure to swirl your tongue around the head at each upward motion.

A stream of curses and encouragements fell from Keanu’s lips as he rocked his hips, one hand around your nape, more for support than anything else. He let you take all the control and you liked that.

“Shit! I’m close,” he warned, his movements becoming faster and uncoordinated. “You’re gonna let me cum in your mouth, like a good little slut?”

You moaned, nodding slightly and redoubling your efforts, your free hand down your panties, fingering yourself in time with his strokes. Keanu tugged at your hair, making you pull back with on obscene pop and look at him through hooded eyes as you work your clit in steady circles of your fingers. Your legs were spread wide and your clothed cunt in full display for him.

“Beg me for it,” he ordered, tapping the tip of his cock against your lips.

“Please, please come in my mouth, Keanu,” you mewed, feeling the rushing wave of your orgasm approaching. “Let me taste your cum.”

“Good little slut,” he smirked at you, letting you take his head into your mouth and stroking himself hard and fast. “And you’re gonna fucking swallow it too.”

He let out a deep grunt when his cock spurted hot ribbons of cum all over your tongue and you hummed at the salty and bitter taste, swallowing every drop and sucking his head to catch everything until Keanu finally pulled back, smiling at you.

“Come on, it’s your turn,” he encouraged, tucking himself back in his pants and crouching down to better watch you as your fingers rubbed and toyed with your clit, the spark of pleasures building steadily. “Are you gonna cum for me, pet?”

You moaned, letting him pull you closer, claim your mouth in a dirty kiss that had your toes curling and your back arching as your orgasm hit you like a rushing tide and you keened against his lips, your fingers never stopping, dragging out your pleasure for as long as you could endure.

When you finally pulled back for breath, your chest heaving, your skin covered in sweat, Keanu tugged your hand away from your cunt, bringing your drenched fingers to his mouth.

“It’s only fair,” he said, a twinkle of wickedness on his eyes as he licked your juices from your fingers, groaning softly at your taste. Once he was done, he let go of your hand and caught you in another deep kiss, before getting up again.

“Come by the shop after your audition tomorrow” There was an edge of command in his voice, as he caressed your thigh, leaving dirty stains over your skin. “I’ll fix your car and then I’ll fuck that pretty little pussy like it deserves.”

Go to Part 2

Tag List (use the link in my bio to add or remove yourself)

@toomanystoriessolittletime @meetmeinthematinee @theolsdalova @penwieldingdreamer @fanficsrusz @eevee-of-rivia @reid-187 @howtoruin-someones-perfect-day @sallyp-53 @anxiteyfilledcupcake @pinkzsugar @angelic-kisses13 @futuristic-imbecile @wonderlandfandomkingdom @krazycags01 @beyond-antares @cumberbatchbaps @sgt-morgan @a-really-bi-girl @nonsensicalobsessions @poisonedjoinery @soarocks @partypoison00 @hnryycvll @keiva1000 @shellbilee @ivvitm1109 @babayagakeanu @trippedmetaldetector @missrandomista @stxphmxlls @geralt-yennefer-jeskier @savaneafricaine @foxyjwls007 @bohemianrhapsody86 @thehumanistsdiary @black-ninja-blade @lux-ravenwolf @softrogers @d0ntjudgemy50shades @itsallviseral @keandrews @rdjloverxxx @greenmanalishi

#keanu reeves fanfic #keanu reeves imagine #keanu reeves x you #keanu reeves x reader #fanfic #smut #alternate universe

222 notes · View notes

udunie · 4 years ago

Note

Yussss extreme food control! Stiles presents late as an omega and is considered too big by most standards (omegas have, u kno, alternate food sources) so in desperation to get his omega son bonded the sheriff puts Stiles on an experimental lifestyle/diet: as much piss&cum as Stiles wants to drink, paired with a tightlace corset, a special cock cage/sound that only lets him piss when his bladder passes a certain pressure, a fat plug that has a special enema in/out valve set 1/2

diet!Stiles: and a chastity belt that locks the corset/cock cage/plug together and in place. It doesn't have to come off - so long as Stiles is meticulous when cleaning the exterior parts, the enema-plug is self-cleaning and the sound is basically a specialized catheter. It does unfortunately take Stiles a long time to get down to an acceptable omega form, and his dad swaps out the cage for smaller ones several times hoping *this* gets Stiles an alpha. Stiles, of course, never comes 2/3 moar sry

diet!Stiles: but the relief Stiles gets when his bladder finally fills enough for the sound to open- for as little as it takes for the pressure to drop- is so intense it starts to replace coming in his mind. He starts to drink as much piss as he can just to reach that point more often, to the point his dad gets fed up and tells him if he's going to indulge so much in piss he's going to have to start drinking his own as well because this is supposed to be a DIET. Stiles loves drinking himself dry

Oh maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan I adore all of this *___________*

Also, if I may add, cause it just logical... Since Stiles does not control his bladder, (and enemas can be tricky if water reach inside deep enough) he needs to wear a diaper? I feel like that would be a nice finish to his looks :D

Just like, imagine him having to wear a diaper with a cute rubber panty on it to make sure he doesn’t leak, with a tightlaced corset, and of course he needs to wear those little nipple pumps to get him more omega-like. And you can’t put a shirt on a nipple pump, and none of his pants fit over his diaper, so when John needs to take him somewhere, that’s how he it is :D

Alternatively:

Stiles presents at 14/15-ish (not between 10-12 as most do) and by then he started puberty... Late presentation is not very rare, so there are facilities that promise to mold late bloomers into proper omegas with SCIENCE!

Stiles needs to stay for a few months, and undergoes hard training. They get him on a special diet (maybe some tasteless slop - a cup twice a day), get him into tight lacing (maybe even remove his lowest ribs), give him multiple painful injections to help devolve his cock and develop his chest (into his balls, the head of his cock, his nipples etc), and they need to work a lot on his ass, cause ‘normal’ omegas are self lubricating, and he is not - yet. So he gets his rim pumped daily and injected with chemicals, gets painful enemas that help him change...

Just all the medfet until he is unrecognizable :D

#prompt box #Anonymous

14 notes · View notes

tricktster · 5 years ago

Note

I'm pretty new at aquariums and I don't have a c02 system set up and I don't think my petco was even selling it? Am I doing something wrong? If so, where can I get one???? I don't want to hurt my fish!

GREAT NEWS: YOU ARE NOT DOING ANYTHING WRONG AND YOU ARE NOT HURTING YOUR FISH.

Sorry this is going to be long but I love nerding out.

I probably should have just explained this when I posted the picture of my setup, but carbon dioxide injection is fully not necessary for the VAST majority of tanks, because it is specifically not there to help the fish at all - it’s for plants.

The fact of the matter is that it’s super hard to get those beautiful, lush planted tanks like this:

...without supplementing carbon dioxide. The same rules apply for aquarium plants as terrestrial plants: they covert light, water and carbon dioxide into chemical energy through photosynthesis, and then use that chemical energy and nutrients to fuel their growth, creating oxygen as a byproduct. The tricky thing is that there just isn’t a ton of carbon dioxide available underwater. Obviously, plants manage to grow underwater all the time, since some co2 will diffuse through the water when the surface is agitated (like if there’s a current, or waves, or a waterfall etc), and as long as there’s adequate sunlight and nutrients, that can be enough for plants to grow. In fact, there are plenty of aquarium plants that do just fine without co2 supplementation, like java ferns or most mosses. You can basically just chuck them in the tank and forget about them. They’ll take care of themselves.

The reason that java ferns and mosses don’t need supplemental co2 is that they have evolved to be able to grow - slowly - in places where there isn’t a lot of sunlight or carbon dioxide that reaches them. However, other plants (like dwarf hairgrass or dwarf baby tears) evolved in conditions that permitted them to grow -quickly - only with a lot of light and a great deal of available carbon dioxide. I mention hairgrass and dwarf baby tears because they’re some of the most popular plants in the aquarium hobby due to their ability to form dense carpets, which are pretty:

(dwarf hairgrass)

(dwarf baby tears)

These plants are also really popular because they’re small and resemble common terrestrial plants, which allows people to create visual illusions that make their tanks seem much bigger and more like terrestrial landscapes, like this one made by John Pini:

(notice the co2 system hanging on the side, which is almost certainly not the actual setup that he uses on this tank - Fluval sponsored the aquascaping contest he won with this). It looks like this tank has pheonix moss, maybe one of the liverwort mosses??, monte carlo (the small leafed plants), and some type of mini bucephalandra (the slightly larger leafed plants), which will actually all grow... okay? without supplemented co2, but not with the density that’s captured here. For reference, here’s the same piece of monte carlo that’s been kicking around in my low tech (i.e. no co2) shrimp tank for months (in front of the Plagiomnium affine my snails keep digging up):

and here is what happened to the single piece of leftover Monte Carlo that I stuck in Darkmantle’s high tech (co2 injected) tank at the same time, if you can make it out under all that hairgrass:

So explosive plant growth is really the big benefit in injecting co2 in a planted aquarium, with a major side-benefit of algae control. When algae shows up in your tank, it’s because there is either too much light or too many nutrients (generally this is biological waste from livestock) in the tank for your plants to be able to use. If the plants aren’t using that excess growing energy up because they’re limited by the amount of carbon dioxide in the water, algae, which has much lower requirements for co2 than complex multicellular structures like plants, will happily take advantage of the excess light and nutrients. But if your balance of light, co2, and nutrients are correct, algae can’t get a foothold because your plants will be taking all that available energy first.

For people who want to try out running a high tech tank, there’s a variety of ways to do it. On a very basic level, all you need is 1) a source of carbon dioxide, and 2, a way to get it into the water. At the very lowest price point, there’s DIY systems like this one that rely on chemical interactions (usually citric acid and baking soda or sometimes yeast) to generate CO2, which is then forced through airline tubing into a diffuser (usually a ceramic disk that breaks up big bubbles of co2 into lots of little bubbles) inside the tank. There’s a few problems with this system: the chemical reactions are really hard to keep going at a stable level that doesn’t result in huge spikes in the amount of co2 being emitted, or, alternatively, the pressure building up in the bottles won’t be enough to actually go through the airline.

Because DIY co2 is finicky (and cleaning can be a pain in the ass) a lot of people, including me, like using pressurized co2 systems. The problem is that there’s not a ton of commercial products that are really adequate for the job that don’t cost a ridiculous amount. While you can certainly drop $600 on a professional system, most people, for obvious reasons, don’t want to do that. Instead, they might try out a system like the little kit Fluval sells, which I mentioned almost certainly was not used in creating that award winning aquascape:

Why do I feel so confident that it wasn’t used? Well, because it kind of sucks. See, an important thing that I didn’t mention is that there is absolutely such a thing as too much co2 in a tank with any animals in it. Animals, you know, need oxygen. Co2 is their output product. Put too much co2 in a tank, and it’ll be exactly the same result as if there is too much co2 and not enough oxygen in a sealed environment that you’re in: death promptly ensues. So when we add co2 to an aquarium, we want to do so in a very measured way that permits the plants to get enough without impacting our livestock at all. There’s a bunch of different things you can use to make sure you’re doing that right, like drop checkers, which contain a chemical that changes color based on the amount of co2 in the water, or bubble counters, which allow you to visually monitor how much of an invisible gas is going into the tank, but the most important thing to stress here is that the amount of co2 that is safe to use when the plants are actively photosynthesizing is NOT the same amount that is safe to have in the tank when the lights are off. Here, the knob on that little kit depicted above is the ONLY way to turn the co2 on or off, or to vary how much is going into the tank, and frankly, that’s a terrible system. The rate of release is not steady, so you have to constantly fiddle with it, and of course you need to remember to manually turn the damn thing on and off every day, which is a pain in the ass. Also, that co2 canister is TINY and it’s not refillable, so you’ll spend hundreds in replacement cartridges before you know it.

The 600 dollar professional kits I’ve mentioned have built in ways to counter those issues, but like I said, nobody wants to drop 600 bucks. The good thing is that you can cobble something together that does the same exact thing as a professional system for a fraction of the cost. All you need is 1. a regulator with a solenoid; and 2. a refillable paintball co2 tank. The regulator is the most important piece of equipment - it’s what allows you to adjust the amount of co2 that goes into the system, and it needs to be reliable. Luckily, there are some GREAT regulators on Amazon in the 60-70 dollar range that are incredibly reliable and come with a solenoid - that’s a magnetic valve that is ONLY open when it’s plugged in. The upshot is that if you use a timer plug or a smart plug, you can just automate when your co2 runs so that it’s only going at the same time as your lights. Then... just go to a sporting goods store, get your paintball tank filled, screw the regulator on, run some tubing into a cheap ceramic diffuser in your tank, and boom, you’ve saved 500 bucks for an extremely effective and easy to use kit that gives you professional results.

Or... you can just not be like me, save yourself the time, money, and energy, and JUST GROW FUCKING JAVA FERNS INSTEAD, TST, YOU PRETENTIOUS ASSHOLE.

#Anonymous

79 notes · View notes

repulsivepangolin7 · 4 years ago

Text

SEAL Team fic. Crush pt.2

A/N: This chapter picks up when Full Metal wakes up in the post-op ward.

Word count: 1022 Too many hours later, he had been carried out to the waiting chopper. This time on an actual stretcher which made the journey slightly less excruciating. The paramedics or whatever had given him more morphine, or fentanyl or something. He didn’t complain, he didn’t have to be able to protect himself, or ration his auto-injectors. After that, he didn’t remember much before he woke from surgery.

* * *

He was relieved to see that some sort of shape continued where his leg was supposed to go. At least he hadn’t joined the ‘some-assembly-required’ squad yet. But he didn’t like that the pain was constant, even though he had just woken up, nor did he want to settle with the amount of pain he was experiencing.

He managed to get the attention of one of the post-op/ICU nurses.

“Hey there…” she smiled at him, “Anything I can help you with?”

“Can I get something for the pain?” any other circumstance and he would have played the tough-strong-SEALoperator card, maybe offer up a pick-up line, but the pain was close to breaking him. “Or am I maxed out?”

“You’re in pain?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, “Lots. Solid 8, at least.”

“I’ll go check.” The nurse nodded, “Just a moment.”

He nodded.

* * *

A few moments later, she came back with two syringes filled with clear liquid. One of them had a red cap on the end and a sticker taped on it. The other one had a white, shorter, cap. “How does a dose of IV morphine sound?”

“All for it!”

The nurse offered up a gentle smile as she stepped closer and unscrewed one of the caps on the three-way valve. Then she took the cap off the syringe with white cap and twisted it on the valve.

“Just have to flush the line first.” she informed as she opened up the valve and started flushing the line, “Feel any pressure or pain when I do this?”

“No, just feels cold.”

“That’s okay.” The nurse nodded, “But your skin feels a little cold, do you freeze or are you staying warm enough?”

“Not much. Probably just the blood loss.”

She nodded, “Do you want me to find an extra blanket for you?”

“Could you?”

She nodded, “I’ll do that once I’m done with this.”

He nodded.

When about half of the saline inside the syringe was gone, she twisted the valve again and removed the saline syringe and placed it on the bedside table. Then she reached for the morphine syringe, twisted the red cap off and twisted it onto the port. Then she opened the valve and slowly started to push the morphine a little by little.

“So, Scott. It was a pretty impressive injury you came in with…”

He huffed a laugh, “Yeah. Apparently, I don’t do anything half-assed.”

“No, I wouldn’t say…” the nurse winked, “Can I ask how you managed it?”

“Haven’t had time to read up on me yet?”

“No.” she admitted, “Shift started five minutes ago. You managed to catch me before I even got over to the nurse’s station.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be…” She chuckled as she gave the plunger another little push before letting it rest a little, repeating the push and pause cycle every 15 to 30 seconds.

He nodded a little, “Well, I’m a soldier. Had a close call with an RPG. And a concrete wall fell on my leg.”

“Ouch…”

He nodded, “Ouch is right. So, you’re not from around here. Your American is way too perfect for that.”

She chuckled, “No, but my parents are both from this area. Moved to the states before I was born, and I grew up in Colorado.”

“Colorado’s a nice place. What made you decide to move halfway across the world?”

“I moved here because I was guaranteed to get experience with trauma cases. I’ve been here for eleven years now, because this has just the right pace for me.”

“Must be a pretty high pace.”

She nodded, “I work both here in post op, and in the ER. So, it’s fast paced some of the time at least.”

He nodded.

“How’s your pain now?”

“Better.” he nodded, “Still not good, but I’m not about to break down because of it.”

“That’s good.” She smiled, “Scale from 1 to 10?”

“5…” he shrugged a little, “Can ignore it, but can’t really relax.”

“We’ll go for a couple more milligrams then.”

“Thank you.”

“Must’ve scared your team mates a bit, huh?”

He shrugged a bit, “Yeah, guess so…”

“So, are you looking forward to go home for a spell, or?”

He shook his head, “No. I’m too damaged for home-life. I need the action and adrenaline to function.”

“Like many other career military…”

“Hey, haven’t decided on making a career out of it yet…” he smirked.

“No?” she raised her eyebrows, “You’re not exactly fresh out of high school.”

“Just a bad joke which runs in my team.” He shrugged, “Many of us has been in for 15-20 years.”

She chuckled a bit, “So, about that pain…”

“Still notice it, but it’s okay.” He shrugged.

“Annoying?”

“A little.” He admitted, “Call it a 3 or something.”

She nodded, “Feel like you can relax?”

“Yeah. I don’t feel tense anymore.”

“That’s good.” She gave the plunger a little push, the last quarter of a milliliter up to the next whole number, “Think we’ll call this good, and then you just let me know if you need more?”

He nodded, “Thank you.”

“No problem.” She smiled back, as she twisted the valve shut, picked up the red cap and unscrewed the syringe of morphine, replaced the red cap, placed the syringe on the table and picked up the saline one to flush the line. She hooked it on, opened the valve, flushed the line, shut the valve, discarded the empty saline flush and put on a new cap on the three way valve. “I’ll go write the morphine into our charting program, you need anything you use the call cord, okay? And I’ll be by with that blanket in a couple of minutes.”

“Copy that.” He nodded.

#SEAL Team #seal team cbs #seal team fanfiction #Full Metal #Fullmetal #scott carter

3 notes · View notes

haloud · 5 years ago

Text

‘til no space lies in between

for day 2 of michael guerin week -- distance (but what if the distance was zero)

ao3

Isobel takes to telekinesis like a split atom; Max takes to the power of suggestion with an air of grim responsibility. Michael’s hands glow red when he lets them, but healing—it’s not so easy. Max and Isobel shrug, not knowing what to say. Isobel suggests there’s a mental component to healing and Michael may be blocking it as he unconsciously does most of their more cerebral abilities. Max struggles to put it into words—

“It’s either like trying to crush stone with your bare hands, or it’s as easy as exhaling.”

And that makes about as much sense as anything else they’ve puzzled out about their powers. Michael was no help, either, with telekinesis, which to him is just like any other muscle that he can flex or twitch without conscious thought.

Michael knows what he has to do for a couple weeks before he gets to doing it.

No one ever really comes to Alex’s cabin unannounced, if only because it’s a bit of a drive and a real pain in the ass if he’s not even there. If Michael had to guess, that’s the reason Alex is even still out there full time, even with Jesse gone from Roswell for good.

Michael breaks that unspoken rule with his heart in his throat, ready to wait as long as he might need to, no matter what Alex’s answer will be. So ready, in fact, that he almost throws the car in reverse when he sees Alex sitting on the porch, dog at his feet. He thought he’d have more time to think of what to say—

But maybe this is better, ‘cause the thinking’s been the problem for a while.

“Guerin?” Alex asks mildly, not getting up from his chair as Michael climbs down from his truck, crosses the driveway, and then stops, lingering, at the foot of the porch steps.

“You can say no if you need to, because I’m thinkin’ this won’t be easy,” Michael leads with, his whole body an apology for what he’s about to ask.

“Why don’t you ask what you want from me first, and then I’ll pass down the verdict.”

Is this something Alex does often—spend the evening watching the desert change, the sun setting in his eyes? And is—is Michael ready, for all that he’s come here, is he really ready to know what Alex spends these evenings thinking?

“Alex,” he says, because the shape of it in his mouth will always be the same. No matter what’s happened, he’s always had that.

“Whatever’s happened, we’ll handle it together,” Alex offers. Unconditional. Uncompromising.

And with a helpless smile at the corner of his mouth, Michael says, “I know it’s a lot to ask, but—would you let me heal you?”

Alex tilts his head at that, and he’s quiet for a long moment. Then he smiles, close-mouthed and gentle, and stands up. The dog gets up as well and stretches her compact little body, trotting inside ahead of either of them. “Okay, Guerin,” he says. “Michael. Okay.” And he holds the door for Michael to come inside.

Alex holds Michael’s hand over his chest while he does it. And—and here it is, and this is why it had to be Alex. He rubs his thumb in slow, sweeping lines across the back of Michael’s hand, and Michael closes his eyes and sinks down, sinks deep, into that star-filled place inside him. Or maybe it’s just the lights everyone sees when they close their eyes too tight, but it’s always looked like stars to Michael.

Maybe Isobel is right, and the reason he couldn’t manage to heal when practicing on Max or Isobel is because he had some sort of mental block. And if it’s true, in his heart Michael knows the reason, and, crucially, he’s ready for Alex to know too.

Isobel says isn’t there anyone you would risk everything to save, and even with most of the secrets laid bare between them, he isn’t ready for her to feel what risking everything is like. Isn’t ready for the look in her eyes, the sound of her laugh, to change like he needs something else to fit him.

Max says you, me, and Isobel—we’re all we’ve got, and even with the wounds between them clean and bandaged Michael isn’t ready for Max to feel what he feels when he’s alone at night and wondering how much Max means anything he says at all.

And then there’s Alex. Alex, who wants to know him, who has already seen Michael at his very ugliest and more besides. For Michael, if he’s going to make himself an open book, it couldn’t be anyone else but him. Anyone else might not understand the language. Anyone else might smear the ink.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Alex says, and he whispers like this is a sacred moment.

He’s warm and alive under the flat of Michael’s palm, heartbeat going steadily. It’s one thing to feel it in his hand, but is he ready to feel a phantom rhythm tucked beside his own? And how will it feel—a soothing, grounding presence, an extension of Alex just inside him, where he always should be? Or will he be paralyzed, will he have to shut himself up and curl around his chest, like one wrong move could shatter them?

Alex breathes slower, more deliberately, and without him having to say a word Michael matches him breath for breath.

Max says that when it’s easy healing’s just like breathing out. So Michael breathes out, and reaches in, and lets the power flow into his hands.

It’s force, it’s heat, it’s motion inside stillness, it’s every kind of energy in the human body distilled into his blood and pushed by force of will out of him and into Alex’s body. It’s rolling with a fist to the gut. It’s the follow-through to throwing a punch.

Michael gasps, struggling like a fish on a bank to reinflate his lungs, and when he opens his eyes there are tears on his cheeks, sweat rolling down the back of his neck, and he doubles over to unload his stomach into the trash can they put between his knees before getting started, like his body threw every pressure relief valve all at the same time.

Alex stays frozen still, just blinking, his hand still in the same place, right over his heart. The handprint won’t form for a few hours, at least, but he runs his thumb over his skin there, slow and reverent.

Michael watches the progress of that finger—the way it disturbs the fine hair there—the way it folds back the collar of his flannel shirt, just so slightly. And—it feels cold, being apart from him, all the sudden, he’s gripped with the absolute certainty that he would be impossibly warmer if he could curl up in the center of his chest and be held in his arms—

Alex can feel all that too.

His eyes, liquid and dark, dart up to meet Michael’s, his mouth falling open in shock.

And Michael has to jerk his eyes away, a new breathlessness leaping into his throat, because it’s not enough just to control what he does, the way he learned to when it was life or death to keep himself from throwing things around the room every time he got pissed off. It’s about who he is this time, it’s about bleeding all of who he is into every part of Alex.

He jumps to his feet, grabbing the trash can. “I’ll clean this and get out of your way,” he says, striding for the door, but Alex catches his wrist before he makes it far, and pins him into place.

Voice so low and gentling, Alex says, “Stay, Michael. If we won’t know if it worked for a while—stay, at least until we know how strong it’s going to be.” His eyes fall to Michael’s mouth, and then away. “You’re allowed to stay,” he says.

Stay reverberates off Michael’s ribs; it echoes in his skull, it curls up between his liver and his pancreas and makes itself at home there, because Alex isn’t changing his mind. Love, because there’s nothing else to call it, flutters helplessly in Michael’s heart, so helpless and hungry and consuming. He feels it fall at Alex’s feet like a dead thing, like a fresh kill offered to the pack.

There’s nowhere to hide. There’s nowhere to run. There’s just Alex saying stay, and feeling all of Michael’s sick-deep love for—the scar on his eyebrow, the missed patch of stubble on his jaw, the freckle between the second and third knuckles on his left hand—for him.

“Stay right here, just for a while,” Alex says, and Michael does.

#mgweek19 #guerinweek19 #michael guerin #alex manes #malex #my fic #handprint fic!!!!#its the best

58 notes · View notes

sick-raven · 5 years ago

Text

Ghosts of the Present - Chapter 7

Chapter 1 + warnings

AO3

Previous chapter

Chapter 7

Jonathan Crane was his own prisoner. Until now he didn’t even think about the League and what it wanted. He focused on the work given to him and the reward he will gather after everything is done. Now the hard reality hit him since Khulan turned to him with all those questions.

“You have two choices, think about it,” she told him. “Where do I find this Banshee?”

And so, he chose.

“I won’t tell you shit, she is mine.”

Khulan with ugly smile took out a long needle. “Wrong choice.”

Now he sat in the lab, pain running through his body, angry. The flying monkey worked on formulas, Khulan left and Miranda will die, because pain is not his friend. He promised himself he will take revenge, but two sets of ninja eyes were following his every movement.

You only gave them address and name, Miranda can get away.

Why do you care? She is a traitor.

Miranda will be fine. You’ve seen it. They sent the woman. Clayface always was a horrible actor.

Jonathan stood up. He can’t do anything else now than wait, so it wasn’t necessary to be lost in thoughts. Back to work. Jervis in the corner watched him over teacup and he looked at the brink of crying. He couldn’t sit still, bounced on the chair like a March hare. Finally, he stumbled towards Jonathan.

“I’m sorry, friend. Can I offer you peace tea?”

Jonathan looked at him through vial. “You can stop sticking your long nose into my business, Hatter. If you learnt to keep your mouth shut, I wouldn’t be hurt right now.”

“Apology came too late?”

Jonathan set down the chemical and leaned over the small man. “You’ve killed Alice, Jervis. And you’ve made Bandersnatch angry.”

Jervis yelped like bitten by venomous snake. He hid his deformed face under the hat. Then, slowly he looked over the edge. “I will fix it. I will.”

“Will you?” Jonathan said darkly.

“I will!”

“Very well,” Jonathan smiled. He took a vial out of his costume and set it on the table. The liquid in it was clear, thicker than water. “Drink this.”

Jervis’ eyes rose wide and teary. “Don’t be mad, you don’t want to poison your good friend in a hat!”

Two flying monkeys didn’t move a muscle to stop him or to try to save Hatter. No fear of losing one of their specialists. We are expendable for the League, realized Jonathan. Easily gained work force, not easily replaceable, but unnecessary in the grand scheme.

“My anger will draw nigh, you better shriek in despair, it is useless to fly,” grumbled Jonathan towering over him. He showed his teeth frowning. “Drink!” he ordered.

Shaking Jervis took the vial and poured it into his teacup. The crockery dinged as he drew it near his mouth. “Friend…”

“Do it.”

Whimpering he drank the liquid, tears flowing on his face. Bravely he blew his nose. “Will my friend attend my funeral?”

“Don’t be dramatic, Jervis,” Jonathan scoffed and put on his mask. “When did I ever hurt you?”

“You spilled my tea once.”

“I spilled the tea once! Will I ever hear the end of it?” Jonathan opened a valve on the chemical set. Before the ninjas could react, room got filled with the gas. Jervis looked around and laughed amazed.

“Clear head!”

“Get them.”

Jervis jumped on the table. “Gather round, gather round, good soldiers!” he giggled. “Bandersnatch has a task for you!” The assassins stopped working on drugs and turned to Mad Hatter in unison. Like drones they followed his words and surrounded the table. From one control to other. Jonathan argued they would have much more fulfilling and interesting lives under Jervis’ rule.

“Has any of you know what’s happening here?” asked Jonathan. “Speak up.”

Soldiers looked at him baffled. One of them finally blinked.

“The heir. We are looking for the Demon’s head’s heir.”

“He will take his place.”

“The great detective.”

More pieces of puzzle snapped together.

“You cannot just convince Batman to lead organization of assassins. How?” continued Jonathan.

“One of us.”

“He will take the place.”

“Drug the soldiers, drug the people.”

“Make him kill. Make him kill. Make him kill.” The chanting got faster and louder. It took Jonathan’s breath away. Sheer fanatism broke even his drug.

“Jervis.”

“Sleep!” ordered Hatter.

The army fell on ground with loud thuds. Jonathan forced the puzzles together. “Fuck.”

“What matters your tongue so dearly?” asked Jervis.

“I am not sure,” Jonathan mumbled. The Arkham was drugged, under its foundations the League was building and looking for something. They needed enough gas to fill the entire Narrows. “I think they plan to make new League base here and they want Batman to lead it.”

Jervis frowned. “How did you figure such devious plan, Bandersnatch?”

“Listen – the took their masters here. Ra’s al Ghul is in the city, we all know he has weird competition with the Bat. They want to drug all these soldiers and make him kill them somehow. Then… Then I don’t know.”

“And we will help to madden their minds and break the Bat,” realized Jervis.

“Yeah.”

“Oh no, no, no,” frowned Jervis. “I don’t like that at all. Bat is ours to break. If the friend is right, we must hurry up and plan.”

“No worries, Jervis, I already have a plan.”

***

Miranda promised herself she won’t get angry.

Then she saw the face that tormented her for years.

She got horribly angry.

“A lost girl found the way home. Here I thought you died long ago, but you aren’t even clever enough to fake your death.”

“Fuck you, you old ugly bitch!” Miranda snapped.

Khulan stood there with mouth agape. Nobody has ever dared what Miranda just did. It felt great to tell that witch what she thinks. If she dies, she will die smiling just for this occasion.

“I would cut your tongue out, if the Demon’s head didn’t promise you fair fight.”

“Fight under your rules will hardly be fair,” Miranda scoffed. “You love fucking people over.”

Khulan couldn’t keep her cool. Miranda insulted her in front of her soldiers like it was nothing.

“Useless girl like you has only strong tongue and nothing else. You might have survived our curse, but you will die in this battle. You’ve insulted me enough.”

Set of soldiers escorted them to a fighting field. Hundreds of assassins were gathered here ready to watch the fight. One of them took Miranda’s weapons away. She looked at where he is going to put them but lost him in the crowd. She will miss her bells.

“You will serve as an example. This is what happens to defector,” Khulan announced.

“Do you ever get tired of your voice?”

Khulan smiled and threw a sword on the ground. “I am sure you remember this training.”

“Are you mocking me?” hissed Miranda.

“Fight me.”

Yes, Miranda remembered. She’s failed this task dozen times before. It’s so easy. Just pick up the sword and cut your opponent. If you can do it, you’ve won.

Dozen times. Maybe hundred. Every time she did something good, learnt something new, master came and threw the sword on the ground. To kick her low when she was high. Every happiness was followed by hard fall. Success and punishment.

Like when she fell from the roof and broke her ribs.

Like when she killed all those targets and they called her Banshee.

Like now when she survived their curse and Khulan plans to kick her down again.

Like when she was happy with Jonathan and…

Are you going to fight or what? Kick her sorry ass, Miranda. You can do this!

Thank you, reason, finally some useful advice.

Miranda breathed slowly. Going head on never worked. Some other way, different strategy to get through this witch. The rules were simple – you can hit your opponent only with the sword and she cannot attack you unless you attempt to take the blade. Miranda felt it necessary to follow these rules. To make a point. And also because master kicked her ass before when she tried to break them by attacking her head first. Even now Khulan waited with hands folded behind her back confident in her skill. Show-off.

“Years hasn’t been kind to you, master,” Miranda smirked. Nothing was written in the rules about insulting your foe. Khulan watched her silently. “Are you sure you are not going senile? Are you up for this?”

Just patient stare. Miranda cussed on the inside. How is she always so focused? Fucking masters deserving their shitty title! Meanwhile Miranda was overwhelmed, tired, scared, angry and in pain. Her patience couldn’t go any lower.

Miranda went head on. Tried to grab the sword.

Master kicked her hand away.

“Fuck,” Miranda hissed.

“You didn’t learn a thing, girl,” smirked Khulan.

“I have a name, you bitch!”

“Oh yes. Mi-ran-da,” master spat every syllable. “Makes you feel like a person, does it? Your boyfriend told us all.”

“He is next on the list.”

“Ah, I should have brought him here to watch you die then.”

Miranda went for a sword with her feet. Kick it up and grab it.

Khulan was faster. She stepped on the blade and roundhoused Miranda to the side. Miranda screamed. Burning intensified. Khulan added a small kick to her ankle.

Miranda fell on her knee. Croc’s cut started bleeding again. Fuck this!

She didn’t stay down. She went for it again and again. And over and over she got dominated. Khulan’s counter attacks grew stronger and more ruthless. Miranda heard her ribs crack again. She bit her lip and was bleeding. Her head pounded.

No closer to the victory.

“Fuck you,” Miranda grumbled.

“Insults. That’s all you have left, girl. You are weak, pathetic. Shame of the League. You shouldn’t have survived, it was pure luck. You don’t have any skill worth talking about. You are just Banshee. A clumsy killer. Anyone could be that.”

“Shut up!”

“Angry? Strike me down then. Show me I am wrong!”

Miranda clenched her fist. How? She can’t win this. She cannot beat Khulan in her own game. How the fuck…

She remembered the old fat fuck that loved torturing bad girls so much. He always laughed when she came to him. “Master sent me.”

“Pick a whip.”

First few times he didn’t say a word. On the tenth time he laughed in her face.

“You are afraid of pain, Banshee.”

“No shit.”

“You always pick the smallest one. Life without pain goes nowhere, you are a coward, kid.”

That fat fuck had a point in his own sick, twisted way. She avoided getting hurt too much and never moved out of place. That’s why she was afraid of death or being truthful. It could have brought more pain.

But she was someone else now. Miranda Bradbury survived fight with ghosts! She would kick the fat fuck to the balls and send him flying off cliff. Khulan the witch has nothing on her!

Sword. Go for it. Grab at it.

Khulan counters.

Dodge. Grab again.

Master expects it. She counters again. Misses.

Miranda grabbed the sword by the blade. Sharp iron cut into her fingers.

Khulan gasped surprised.

Yes! Miranda got the sword! She fucking got it!

Then Khulan lost her stance, used her arms. She grabbed the hilt and pulled.

Miranda screamed as blade slipped from her hand. She fell on her knee, blood flowing out of stomps her fingers used to be. She shouted louder, holding her palm to stop the bleeding.

“Clever,” commented Khulan. “And useless. This fight is over, girl.”

Miranda hyperventilated. No! No, no, no! She can’t die, not like this, no! Fuck!

Khulan stood in front of her, sword ready to strike. Miranda looked at her, trembling. No, no, I don’t want to die. No!

“Miranda!”

Jonathan stood there at the end of the room.

“Just in time. Any final words, girl?”

Miranda took her shirt off as slowly as pain allowed her. She rolled it around her hand as a bandage. It soaked the blood in and drenched almost immediately. Khulan looked at her with happy spark in her eyes.

“Yes,” Miranda said with scarred voice. “There is someone who wants to see you again.”

She ripped her charm off.

Deep in underground of the Arkham asylum started hell.

Next chapter

#batman #fanfiction #jonathan crane #jervis tetch #writeblr #ghosts of the present #sick raven writing #tbh my favourite scene is between Jonathan and Jervis #it's my most favourite from the whole fic

2 notes · View notes

timetravelingpigeon · 5 years ago

Text

Excerpt: The Life and Life and Life of a Time Traveling Pigeon

In Which Columba Makes a Break For It

[[PREVIOUS | INDEX | NEXT]] [ 29 / 33 ]

The going was slow as we meandered about, trying to escape detection. Dr. Tanner had spent much of the night being forced to learn how to avoid the Men in Black’s gaze, and he was putting those skills to good use now. We kept off the streets for most of it, ducking in and out of alleyways, in no small part due to the fact that a couple of college students who looked like they’d just lost a boxing match were something of a noticeable target.

A lot of it passed in a blur for me, between the pain and the last few dregs of adrenaline in my system. Eventually (after a very harrowing fence jump,) we found ourselves underground. It looked like some sort of utility access tunnel, probably for the subway system, but could have served any number of infrastructure needs. The only thing that mattered for our purposes was that it was out of sight from both the street and the air.

As the light from the city outside began to fade, Riley pulled out her cellphone to use as an impromptu flashlight. It was a cheap, bottom-of-the-barrel flip phone, and its glow was barely enough to keep her from tripping over her own feet in the gloom.

Speaking of, we’d come upon a door of some sort, only really distinguishable by the dull reflections off the metallic handle. Riley muttered something about a dead end, and I was about a half-second away from offering up my lock-picking abilities. Sure, I didn’t have any sort of tools on me; and my dominant hand was kinda fucked up; and if this was a city-owned, utility-workers-only sort of thing, it was probably above my skill level anyway, but—

Dr. Tanner simply placed one hand by the handle, pushed, and the door broke open with the too-loud metallic crack of the entire latch mechanism being shattered by the force.

Right. Superpowers.

Well, that thing’s never locking again.

The doorway opened up into a small room that was little more than a glorified closet, the walls lined with an eclectic mix of cables, pipes, meters, levers, and valves. A pervasive hum filled the air, and (once I’d found a suitably flat patch to lean against,) I could feel it likewise through the walls. It was decent enough white noise, I suppose, and the space was big enough for all three of us to fit comfortably, so it would work for us to catch our breath, mentally and physically.

There was a light switch just inside, but Dr. Tanner advised against turning it on; he didn’t know if the light would be visible from the mouth of the tunnel, but it probably wasn’t a good idea to show that there was a room down here, much less one that’s currently occupied.

And so there we were: me, my best friend, and the superpowered mad scientist that was apparently her brother, all lit only by the glow of a cheap-ass cellphone.

Tag list

@casperalexander @tracle0 @sunlight-and-starskies @donovyn--nox @typewriter-jade @joyful-soul-collector @awkward-cobra @purpleshadows1989

If you want on or off the tag list, feel free to either drop me an ask or reply to this post :)

#fiction #original fiction #amwriting #creative writing #original writing #excerpt #@ Col #@ Riley #@ Morgan #not pictured:#col being forced to have morgan carry them because they fucked up their ankle in the fight #trimmed it out for length #I also really hope it's not obvious that I don't know how city work #halp i am an dumbass suburbanite

5 notes · View notes

90simaginesandfanfics · 6 years ago

Note

Theres no rush lovely, hope you aren’t too stressed 💖 so basically can the female character be ex-police (so she’s really badass and has self defence training etc) and she went to see pearl jam at one of their first gigs and some dude started harassing her and Eddie was gonna step in but she basically kicked his ass- and then later he bought her a beer and they hooked up. That would be great thanks lovey 💕xx

“ID please.” The bouncer asked you, his monotonous voice making you roll your eyes. You still never understood how you still came off as underage, even though you were mature beyond your years. You had decided to come to one of the few good clubs in town for a night out, wanting to listen to some good music and drink without having to deal with any of your overprotective friends and family. It’s not that you didn’t appreciate them, it’s just that you liked your own company, and going to a bar to listen to some bands play was something you preferred to do alone, rather than having to be the designated driver for everyone.

You got your license out of your pocket and handed it to him. He checked it, then passed it back and let you through, as the strumming of guitars could be heard from inside the bar as the soundcheck was finishing up. You made your way through the sea of people, making your way to the bar and ordering a beer. You sipped at the bottle, savouring the bitter taste. You hadn’t had a drink in at least six months. And before that you hadn’t touched a drop in 6 years. You were never big on drinking anyway, but when you joined the police force you decided to stop altogether. That wasn’t the only thing that the force changed about you. Being in the presence of criminals all the time tends to make your skin tougher, and you practically had lived for your job, spending most of your time on call and never really taking a break. Everything was fine until you got diagnosed with Mitral Valve Prolapse. You didn’t think there was anything that could stop you, but apparently that could. Paired with irregular heartbeat, and you were deemed unfit to work, since you were passing out after short bursts of exercise and unable to keep up physically with the work you were doing. It broke your heart at the time, but you had become part of the paperwork side of the department, and still involved, you just couldn’t go out into the field anymore.

You were reminiscing on what had happened in the past when you heard the band on stage start, the guitars and drums started a melody which forced you to turn your eyes over to them. You were pretty much the only one left at the bar, since the floor in front of the stage was packed as a man with long brown hair covering half his face stepped up to the microphone. He looked young, yet the voice that came from his mouth when he sang was deep and baritone, and the words he sang showed a wisdom beyond your own. You peered curiously at the singer as all the band members thrashed around on stage, from a fast song to a ballad seamlessly. He sang with so much conviction, and you couldn’t help but admire his prominent cheekbones and piercing eyes. You stood up from the stool you were sitting on, making your way to the side of the crowd and subtly shifting through the crowd until you managed to stand in front of the stage, but off to the side near the amps. The sound was even better than before, and being close really did the whole band justice. You couldn’t take your eyes off the singer, and the way he moved around on stage. He made his way to the side you were standing on and his eyes crossed over the whole crowd before they settled on you, moving to the music.

Your eyes met and you nearly choked. He was better looking up close. You froze up for a second before you sent him a small smile. He smiled back at you, his gaze lingering before he moved back to the other side of the stage and finished the song up. You could notice him glancing up at you every now and then to see if you were still there, and you almost wanted to laugh. If you didn’t know any better you were basically flirting with him considering all the shy smiles you had sent him throughout the set. They finished up and the crowd cheered as the band made their way backstage. You decided that you had had enough fun for the night, and so went to the bar to get another beer before you went home. You nearly chugged down its contents, looking forward to going home and getting under your warm blankets, when you felt someone’s hand on your waist. You turned around to find a guy, probably in his late forties, leering at you as his grip tightened.

“Hey babe, you looked sad sitting here all alone.” He said, his voice making a shiver of disgust run up your spine.

“I’m sorry, I’m not interested.” You said, twisting your body to get out of his grip.

“Well I think me and you could have a lot of fun.” He said and grabbed at you again. You put your arm up to his chest and lightly pushed him back, not in the mood and completely done with the creep. His face was instantly filled with anger.

“Don’t play hard to get sweetie.” He said and then went to move closer to you again when you felt someone move to your side.

“Everything okay here?” A deep voice said and you turned to find the singer you had been enamored with standing next to you, glaring at the creep standing in front of you.

“Everything’s fine dickhead, get out of here, this doesn’t concern you.” the perv said. The singer was about to open his mouth again when you decided to butt in.

“Hey asshole, leave me the fuck alone or I will cut your dick off.” You said and the singer’s eyes went wide, while the creep looked like he wanted to kill you,

“Fucking slut.” He said before he went to grab you again. But as his hands went to you, you grabbed his right arm and twisted his body around, slamming his head on the bar while you raised his arm behind his back, twisting it with his wrist to the point where you could easily break it. You did this in about two seconds, and the whole of the bar was suddenly looking towards the scene. You bent down to his ear slightly, making sure he could hear you loud and clear over the sounds of his painful squeals.

“Now I’m going to make one thing clear, I’m not interested, neither are any of the women here. So what you’re going to do when I let you up is leave immediately, before i rip out your vocal cords and your dick to stop you from ever approaching women again.” You whispered, almost menacingly. You waited for a couple of seconds before letting go of his wrist and taking a step back. He quickly stood up and without a thought began rushing away. You could see him rubbing his wrist soothingly due to the pain, causing you to laugh internally.

You turned back around to the singer, whose mouth was still agape with shock. His eyes were on yours as he shut his mouth and cleared his throat, coughing sheepishly.

“I was kind of gonna be a knight in shining armour, but I guess you have it all covered. Remind me to never piss you off.” He said jokingly, but she could tell her was nervous due to the way he was rubbing the back of his neck.

“Well it kind of comes with the territory, I used to be in the police force.” You said, as an explanation, but didn’t expect his eyes to light up the way that they did.

“Really? God, that’s so cool. You must be fucking badass then.” He replied and you could feel a blush coming on, especially when considering how close he was to you, and how perfectly shaped his mouth was close-up.

“Says the guy whose voice rivals Mr Mercury himself.” You taunted and he laughed with you. You didn’t know what it was, but something about him was electric, and you didn’t mind playing with fire. You didn’t know where the words had come from, but your mouth was suddenly speaking with a mind of its own.

“Do you have anything to do tonight?” You asked, almost innocently, and he sent you a questioning smile, as if he knew what you were about to do.

“Not really. Just hanging out here I guess.” He replied, although the way that his eyes started to dart down to your lips suggested something else.

“You wanna get out of here then?” You asked and a smirk grew on his face.

“Lead me away, officer.” He taunted and you gave him a sultry smile before grabbing his hand and leading him towards the exit of the bar, making sure to sway your hips as you walked. Just before you got to the door, you turned around to face him.

“What’s your name?” You asked, feeling stupid for taking a guy home who you didn’t even know basic information about. He smiled, chuckling slightly, and it made you more attracted to him if that was even possible. He started walking in the direction of the door once again, this time pulling you along with him. Just as he opened the door, he turned to you.

“It’s Eddie.” He said, before leading you out into the night.

*****

I loved writing this one, so thank you anon for sending it in. In other news I’m kind of upset because Rammstein are touring next year, and they’re coming to England but the cheapest ticket I’ve seen so far is £206 which I cannot afford so I’m gonna go to bed and cry. Honestly, it’s my dream to see them live but all of my savings need to go to other things, so I’m going to have to beg my bank account to allow me to buy a ticket!

4 notes · View notes

theendofman · 4 years ago

Text

Industrialization of Life

Slow Days - Chapter 6

This is a proper chapter for once, not just a short essay about one of my weird daydreams, so grab a cup of tea before reading. If you haven't read the previous chapters you can find the full collection on my blog. Enjoy :)

The Probe exited the Kuiper Belt, slowly moving sol-ward. Its utter size rendered all human definitions of "vessel" meaningless. It hadn't been built for humans though, it had been built to eat. The gates on the mechanized astroid opened, as large as the humans' towers and wider than most earth-rivers long, to reveal hangars filled with autonomous agents, sized from the scale of humans themselves to the dimensions of large factory buildings. A small group of a few thousand, roughly the size of oil tankers and shaped like squished, edged eggs, separated from their docking station and disappeared into the abyss.

Alecjo stared at the wall in his cabin. It's been 3 weeks since they passed the asteroid belt. The fault had been with the electronic valves. A fault they couldn't fix while fuel was flowing through the system, which they couldn't stop since the valves were broken. If they had turned the ship around they'd have fallen short, slowly turning towards the sun. That wouldn't have been a problem if they had flown a stable transfer orbit, but they didn't. It would have been too slow to meet the required timeframe. Therefore they would have been in a parabolic trajectory towards sol, eventually hitting her surface. Sure, it would have taken months, but the captain didn't want to risk it. Eventually, he decided to dump the remaining propellant and hope that someone would come to rescue the Vuoto, while only pointing the ion-thrusters outward.

Alexander raised his head; he sat on the other side of the room. They had been sharing rooms since Diana and the captain had converted the other cabins to growing cabinets. "I'm going to check the scans again", Alex said.

===============================================

While Alecjo and Diana had been outside Alex had sent out a distress signal and it actually went through before the power went out, but it wasn't answered the way that they'd hoped. A day after the broadcast they received an encrypted transmission. An update to the system computers completely and physically bricking their radio by burning capacitors in one of the modules, crippling the ships ability to communicate or announce their presence. They could listen, but not speak up. The company had decided that the Vuoto and its Cargo weren't valuable enough to spawn a rescue operation. It was illegal sure, but no one would have persecuted them, even if the public had found out. The update served to prevent public outrage. To prevent possible revolution. They had betrayed the crew, so Alexander Laventryev hoped for the kindness of strangers.

Alecjo didn't answer Alex. He hadn't really spoken to anyone for three days. It was just too much effort. He was well-nourished and physically fit enough, but it was just so hard; so Alex left him in the cabin.

As Alex entered the bridge he saw Diana was already there monitoring the life support for about the fifteenth time today. Silently he flew over to the radio console; in his peripheral vision, he noticed Diana trying to conceal turning her head towards him slightly. "Anything new?"

Her voice sounded rough. Alex sighed as he scrolled through the new messages. Diana eyed him, annoyed about his silence.

"The captain needs 8% increased soil humidity in your quarter. Make that happen until tomorrow." Alex sharply exhaled as he pushed his rising discontent to the side. He didn't like to be bossed around like that. Sometimes he thought of how little he actually knew about the other crew members. He knew Alecjo was married and that Diana had been living with her sister before she left earth to provide for both their lives. The captain was a father, but he had never talked about the mother of his two daughters.

>>I might be the one who left the least behind<< he said to himself as he reached the bottom of the log. No transmissions for them. Not one even mentioning them.

"What did you say?", Diana asked harshly. She hadn't slept well the night before. "Nothing, just talking to myself."

Alex hadn't even noticed he had muttered those word out loud and he felt a slight sting in his chest as Diana drifted over to the exit to leave. "I'll have it done by tonight" Alex mumbled. Diana left for the growing cabinet, that what had been Alex cabin.

She tried to focus. Her peripheral eyesight had shrunk down to about 60 degrees. As she floated down the hall her bowel started to sting again. Plants weren't her strong suit but she thought herself to be decent at engineering.

The internal ship database suggested 30 mols per square meters per day over a 16 hour period for growing vegetables. The converted cabin had a 9-square-meters-footprint and was 2.3 meters high. Therefore the room had a total growing area of 2 times 9 m² floor and ceiling, and 4 times 6.9 m² wall area totalling 45.6 m² of which approximately 42 were usable. This results in 1260 mols per day. The LEDs stored on the ship for on-the-job mechanics specified 1.6 micromols per joule produced, so over a 16-hour period the cabin required 787.5 million joules, or 49.218 million joules per hour. Diana needed to find 13.67 kilowatts for the greenhouse to operate effectively. Life support was out of the question. The now unusable radio had used up 27 watts. That wasn't a lot of help. By shutting off the navigation and communication subroutines in the computer they could save around 800 watts, but that also barely made a dent. Fuel pumps and valves had had 5 kilowatts allocated to them. Significant, but there were still 7.9 kilowatts to go. The cogs in Diana's head started to turn when she softly hit the floor of the hallway.

The Vuoto had 10 ion thrusters, each using a minimum of 3 kilowatts. They would have to shut off 3, an idea the captain would not like. It would put the Vuotos thrust off-axis as there was no gimble on the ion thrusters, but the more they'd shut off the further they'd drift outward. They could also only turn off two, but that would decrease the potential output of their crops. Joseph always stressed how getting home was their top priority and this would make their journey longer. Much longer.

>>Oh god, what will he think of me?<<

The thoughts lingering in the back of Diana's head had started poking through more frequently, but she kept pushing them aside, trying not to give them too much attention. Desperately trying.

In the cabin, Joseph was watering the berries when Diana flew in. "I hope you have some good news for me", he said more cheerfully than Diana had expected. He didn't look up from what he was doing, hovering on the would-be ceiling his face vanishing in the leaves. "I-", Diana was struggling for the right words, stumbling over her own tung as she tried to ignore the pain in her abdomen.

"I need power from 4 of our ion engines... Now, I know you want to limit our ti-"

"I trust you." The captain talked over her. "Do what you need to do." He was annoyed Diana interrupted him. Always on her feet, always wanting to change something, to improve the ship. The seeds had started to grow towards the centre of the room and he was testing the acidity of the soil again. Oh, and the tomato plants needed their leaves clipped. And he should trim the berry bushes. He grabbed the gardening scissors from his cargo pants and drifted over to the back wall with the vegetables. It was peaceful in the cabin and the plants needed him. Back on earth, when he was still living in that lakehouse with his daughters, he had dreamed of becoming a farmer. He could never scrape up enough money to lease the machines and the land, let alone buy them. But up yet here he was, needed for his gardening abilities. He collected the clipped leaves and slid them into the zip-lock bag taped to his belt. "Did you have a garden growing up, Diana?"

"We..." Diana tried to tear through the fog in her skull. "... the neighbours had planted some on the roof, but we never had a garden of our own, no."

"What a shame. I used to tell my daughters stories about rows upon rows of grape bushes and vast fields."

"It's... nice to have something to dream of", she muttered as she hovered in the door frame.

Diana had a bad gut feeling after she had left the captain in the chamber. She didn't know the captain very well, but she knew he didn't like space. He didn't like the void. What if he just wanted her off his ass? He could fix anything she'd screw up when she wasn't looking, Diana thought as she moved back to the control room. Her intercom device cracked. "Diana?" Alex's voice crawled through the speaker: "I need a second pair of eyes on this."

Two drones latched into one of the many asteroids in the belt and started chipping away at it, one by one shaping the debris into small, cubes-like structures, maybe 5 by 5 meters in size, which shot into the void, back towards the mother ship.

#science fiction #scifi #hard scifi #space #cosmic horror #dystopia #thriller

0 notes

minijenn · 7 years ago

Note

56 Lapis

56. “Don’tyou dare die on me!”

The fallout from the explosion caused by the roaming eye was immense,more than enough to easily take out the flock of eye bats that had been pursuingthem for quite some time now. Lapis only had a moment to celebrate hersuccessful aquatic assault on the vessel before it came spiraling down towardsthe rubble-laden street right in front of her. Or more specifically, towardsDipper as he stood just on the other side of the road, his makeshift swordstill poised to fend the eye bats and attacking Homeworld Gems off. That is,until he realized that both parties were falling out of the sky right towardshim at an alarming rate.

“No!” Lapis cried, flinging both her arm out as well as amassive swath of water from the broken valve of a nearby building. Her liquidtendril was just moments too later however, as both the roaming eye and the eyebats came crashing down to the ground in a fiery explosion. For only a second,the blue Gem froze, unable to make out anything at all as only smoke plumed outfrom seemingly every angle, her entire form filling with an unspeakable senseof fear and dread. However, she was quick to break out of her shock as she flewforward, calling upon as much water as she could salvage from the surroundingarea as she used it to form a massive hand, one that was just large and strongenough to scoop the broken remains of the roaming eye and the eye bats upbefore tossing them away without a second thought. And, as soon as they weregone, Lapis was easily able to find the only admittedly very broken thing thatremained from the crash. And if she had any blood, then it would have certainlyrun cold at the mere sight of the sight of his current condition.

“N-no…” she whispered, her eyes wide as she stood at the edgeof the crater the crash had created, though she didn’t stay there long. Infact, Lapis practically fell down into it, scrambling to make it to Dipper’sside as he lay in the center of it, prone and unquestionably injured, butsomehow still all in one piece. Though in a sense, he wasn’t really, because afew of the eye bats must have managed to nick him with their petrifying gazeswhile they were plummeting down towards him. Oddly enough, however, he hadn’tbeen turned to stone entirely, most likely a result of the eye bats sustainingsuch damage from their collision with the roaming eye. Instead, only bits andpieces of him were stony and statuefied: his left leg, most of his right arm, apart of his chest far too close to his heart, and worst of all, the entireupper left half of his face, keeping one of his eyes wide open in eternal shockand fear while his other one was rightly shut against the immense pain whateverwas left of his natural body was going through.

Lapis collapsed to her knees beside Dipper, her handstrembling as she hesitated to even touch him, especially as she noticed theblood pooling under his head, over his stomach, out of his mouth and severalother places as well. When she did gently pull him up into her lap, she easilynoticed that he felt much heavier than usual, no doubt because of the pieces ofhim that were now nothing more than cold, unfeeling stone. Dipper finallystirred at the blue Gem’s touch, a shallow, rattling cough escaping him as hisstill in-tact eye slowly opened to meet Lapis’ immensely concerned gaze.

“Dipper!” the blue Gem gasped, unable to hold back tears asshe took in his expression, which was completely wracked with silent agony. “I-I…I’m sorry! I didn’t know the roaming eye would fall l-like… o-or that the eyebats would-” She cut herself off, shame filling her as she realized she hadcompletely failed in the one thing that had always been her sole resolve:namely, keeping him safe from harm. “I-I’ll figure out a way to help you. Evenif I have to go up against Bill and Yellow Diamond myself, I’m not about to letyou-”

“L-Lapis…” Dipper spoke up, his voice far too soft and weakfor the blue Gem’s liking. “Y-you… you can’t do that… You know you can’t…T-they’d… they could shatter you…”

“I don’t care!” Lapis exclaimed adamantly, taking hisstill-natural hand and gripping it tightly. “I put myself up against much worse to keep you safe before, andI’m not afraid to do it again! I can’t just… I-I… You can’t…” She trailed offinto a heartbroken sob, knowing that as much as she didn’t want to lose him, hewas already starting to slip away from her regardless.

“Lapis, I-I… I’m sorry…” Dipper muttered, glancing awayguiltily towards his petrified right arm as it hung like dead weight from hisshoulder. “All o-of this,” he nodded toward the relentless destruction fromWeirdmageddon that lingered all around them. “Is -my fault… A-and now… I can’teven do a-anything to help stop it… I c-couldn’t protect Great Uncle Ford, o-orGrunkle Stan, or Steven, o-or Pacifica, or Mabel, or even m-myself… But… atleast y-you’re ok for once, Lapis… T-that’s about the only regret I won’t be going out on, I guess…”

“No,” Lapis shook her head, fear pouring into her like waterupon hearing this. “No, Dipper! Don’ttalk like that! You’re not—I-I can’t… Don’t you dare die on me! I won’t let you! Without you, t-there’s nothingleft on this planet that I… I…” She broke down once more, this time letting outa loud wailing cry as it all dawned upon her. She was losing him, he was dying.And in a matter of minutes, the human she cared for as if he were her own son,as odd and confusing as that relatively new concept was to her, would be gone.

And the mere thought of that alone was almost enough to breakLapis entirely. Until Dipper managed to find a way to steady her one finaltime. “L-Lapis… Can… can you do something for me?” he asked, his voice barely awhisper as he struggled to keep his eye open and maintain consciousness againsthis fading senses.

“Y-yes,” Lapis nodded instantly amidst her tears, squeezinghis hand and painfully realizing that it was growing much too cold. “Anything.”

“W-when you find Mabel… c-can you tell her that I-I’m sorry…?She’ll know w-what it’s about…”

“O-of course,” Lapis nodded tearfully, already aching at thethought of having to deliver the news of Dipper’s brutal, untimely demise toMabel, or to anyone else for that matter. But for him, she would shoulder thatburden, knowing that it was the least she could do after everything he had donefor her. “I-I’ll tell her. I promise.”

Dipper let out a small sigh of satisfaction at this, his eyeslipping shut as his hand fell out of Lapis’ and the slightest of smilescrossed his features. “T-thank you, Lapis…” he muttered on one of his finalbreaths, and then after that, he said no more.

Lapis’ breath hitched in a tight cry as she realized that hewas indeed gone, but that didn’t stop her from pulling him into a tighterembrace, holding onto him tightly as she sobbed against his small, stiff,lifeless form. She stayed in that spot, doing only that, for what seemed likeages, not even caring about the possibility of any Henchmaniacs or Homeworldforces happening upon her. After all, if they shattered her now, she couldn’thave cared less; one of the few things she still truly cared for was gone, deadin her arms all because she had failed to protect him. Really, shatteringwouldn’t have been any more painful than the immense anguish she was enduringnow.

Still, she knew that she couldn’t stay there mourningforever. She had made him a promise, one that she was resolved to keep beforeanything else. And so, she did what she had to. Too ashamed and heartbroken totake his body back to the shack, she instead flew it off to the barn, hopingthat it would stay relatively safe from the onslaught of Weirdmageddon and theinvasion there. And then, with purpose on her wings and pain in her heart, theblue Gem rose above the destroyed town, her tears never ceasing as she made abeeline towards the bizarre pink bubble positioned between the cliffs. She hada message to deliver, a promise to keep. And, as far as she was concerned, upholdingthat promise for him and him alone was going to be the last thing she ever did.

(….too much? Too much, right. Damn I be layin the angst on thick with these prompts, especially with anything having to do with Dipper and Lapis huh? Still, this was… interesting. Idk why I decided to set it during Weridmageddon but I did so *shrugs* Still yeah, kinda a fucking downer, so to fucking lift my depressed ass spirits I’mma do a fucking fluffy one of these next because DAMN this was dark. Brb gotta go have a good crying session now, bye!)

REQUESTS ARE CLOSED!

#jen writes #universe falls #dipper #lapis #character death #blood #drabble prompts

13 notes · View notes

trade-baby-blues · 8 years ago

Text

Wilted

Pairing: Bones x Reader

Word Count: 1832

Warnings: 90% angst, death mention, some swearing

A/N: Funny enough this fic was supposed to be fluff but it got way out of hand. I promise part two is going to be fluffier, though!! Hope you enjoy it anyway.

The Captain announced shore leave almost a month ago, and every day that passed filled you with dread. You were probably the only one on the whole ship terrified of two weeks leave, but it was hard to look forward to it when it was going to be your first shore leave without family.

Even before you were a couple, you and Leonard McCoy had a tradition: you’d take a shuttle east to Georgia and spend a few days with his family (and his mother’s amazing dump cake) and then you’d rent a car and drive up to Virginia to see your dad. You were an only child and your parents got divorced when you were just a kid - couldn’t take the long stretches of absence that came with your dad being a Starfleet officer. Of course, your mom got custody, so you were forced to live with her and her new boyfriend in Kansas. You missed your dad so much as a kid that you spent every second you could with him to make up for lost time, visiting every shore leave and video chatting at least twice a week while you were on the Enterprise. Except the day his shuttle crashed.

It was a year into a mission that was only supposed to take 7 months, and the Enterprise was having a tough time of it. After restocking and refueling on the closest Federation planet, you were wrapped up with Montgomery Scott doing damage control. Of course the ship could handle much longer missions if she’d been outfitted properly, but no one thought you’d be in the air this long. Wires were shorting everywhere and coolant was leaking every other week. The entire rec area was in a blackout right now, and Scotty assigned you to fix it while he cleaned up the warp core. It was the first time Scotty left you alone to do such a big project, and you were determined to make him proud so you messaged your father that the Chief Engineer needed you and you couldn’t make the call. Since he was his ship’s Chief Engineer before getting promoted to Vice Admiral, you hoped he’d understand.

You were making good progress when Scotty came up to check on you. “How’s it going, lass?”

“Slow. Half these wires are frayed and shorting out.” You accidentally brushed a loose wire, pulling back with a yelp as it shocked you.

Scotty sighed, mumbling curses under his breath before crouching down next to you to take a look. “I’ll finish her up. Jim’s wants to talk to ye.”

You picked up some electrical tape and kept working. “Jim wants to talk he can come down here. I’m busy taping his ship together.”

“Aye, and that’s what I told him. Said it was important, though. He’s in conference room B.” Scotty took the tape from your hands and nodded towards the door. You sighed in defeat and stood to leave. “Oh, and Y/N. If the Captain’s trying to get you into another one of his pranks, will you tell him exactly how painful it is to die of radiation poisoning if the warp core starts leaking?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Sure thing, Scotty. Right after I help him with whatever prank he’s planning.”

As soon as you made it to the conference room, you knew Jim wasn’t planning a prank. Leonard sat at the table, wringing his hands over a file. His eyes were red around the edges, as if he’d been crying. Jim couldn’t even look you in the eyes. He tried, but he’d drop his gaze after a few seconds. You’d never known him to be timid.

“It might be better if you sit,” he said, pulling out a chair. Busying himself.

“I don’t want to sit, Jim.” You crossed your arms over your chest, planting your feet by the door ready to bolt. “I want you to tell me what’s going on. Someone’s gotta help Scotty keep the ship running, and I’m the best he’s got.”

“Sweetheart,” Leonard said, eyes closed, trying to smooth the wrinkles on his forehead with his hand, “please just sit.”

Your heart rate picked up. You’d know Leonard’s “I’ve got bad news” voice anywhere. You swallowed against the growing tightness in your throat. “Please just tell me what’s going on Len.” When he didn’t answer you started getting angry. “Leonard McCoy I swear to god if you called me away from my work to break up with me I’m gonna kick your ass and then I’m gonna kick yours,” you pointed at Jim, “for staying and watching.”

“It’s your dad,” Leonard said, voice no more than a whisper.

Everything started spinning. “What about him?”

Leonard took a steadying breath, trying to find the words, but it was Jim who spoke first. “There was a shuttle crash. The fuel lines caught and the whole thing burned up. Your dad was stuck inside, trying to pull people out. He saved seven cadets before he…” Jim’s voice trailed off, not that you would’ve heard it. After “shuttle crash” it was like your brain turned off. All you could hear was a high pitched buzzing.

“I know this is hard, baby, but I need you to breathe for me,” Leonard said, standing and taking a step towards you.

You shook your head. “He can’t be dead. I didn’t call him this morning. I had to fix the rec area I didn't….I didn’t call him.” You swallowed against the tightness in your chest, willing yourself to breathe but unable to do anything but picture the shuttle crash. The sound of the fuel line hissing and catching fire. You could hear your father’s voice ordering people to stay calm, pulling out as many people as he could.

Leonard put his hands on your arms, thumb stroking the fabric of your red shirt. “I’m so sorry, Y/N, but I need you to focus on my voice. I need you to tell me how to help. We’ve cleared you from work for the next couple days to-”

“No,” you said, pushing Leonard off. “No I-I need to fix the rec area. I’ll see you later.” You could hear Leonard and Jim both calling after you as you left the room but it was lost in the buzzing of your brain. Your hands shook as you pushed the image of a burning shuttle from your mind, focusing instead on the cold metal of the sip under your feet, the wires that needed replacing.

Scotty was hanging up his communicator as you rounded the corner. You cut him off before he could speak: “I need to do this. Alone.” Scotty just nodded, squeezing your shoulder as he left.

He should’ve stopped you. Better yet, you should’ve stopped yourself but you knew you were too much like your father for your own good. You dealt with grief the same way - by throwing yourself into your work. That’s probably why you ended up in Medbay more than usual. You asked for M’Benga, hoping Leonard wouldn’t notice that this was the sixth time you’d come in for treatment in four days, but you could hear his voice nearing the exam room and your heart sank.

He didn’t look at you when he came in, just closed the door behind him and stared at your chart. The bio bed beeped as your heart rate increased. Leonard’s eyes shot up briefly before settling back on the report. You could tell he was pissed, but when he spoke it was soft: “Electrical shock. Head trauma. Sprained wrist,” he listed off. “Guess you’ve been too busy killing yourself to meet for lunch.” You hung your head, wanting to say something but knowing nothing would suffice. Leonard threw the file beside on the bed, pulling out his tricorder and sweeping it over you, settling on the burns on your hands. “What happened?” No sweetheart, no sugar, all business.

“Burned myself,” you mumbled.

“I can see that,” he snapped. Leonard took a shaky breath before turning to grab the dermal regenerator. “I meant how.”

“Water heater broke. Grabbed the valve without thinking.”

“Seems like you’ve been not thinking a lot,” Leonard said, motioning to the cut on your forehead and the bruise on your arm. He brought a hand up to stroke your cheek absentmindedly before tending to your hands. “I’m worried about you, Y/N.”

“‘’M fine.” You didn’t even try to make it sound convincing.

“Horseshit.” Leonard’s voice was growing steadily louder. “You’re not, Y/N. You’re not fine. You haven’t been eating and don’t try to say you’re eating in Engineering because I asked Scotty to keep an eye on you. He said you’re not, even when he brings you food. Not to mention you’re not coming to our room at night anymore and you’ve tripled your visits to Medbay. Honestly, did you think I wouldn’t find out you’re seeing Geoff instead? I’m the goddamn CMO. Of course I’m gonna hear about it when my own girlfriend crawls into my medbay all cut up because she ignored my suggestion she take a few days leave and can’t focus enough to strip a damn wire.”

You were silent a few minutes, willing yourself to be angry, willing yourself to feel anything but grief. “I’m sorry,” you said.

Leonard put the regenerator on the bed, taking your hands gently in his own. “I just want to help, sweetheart,” he said, “but I can’t do that if you won’t talk to me.” His eyes were heartbroken when they locked with yours. You couldn’t stop your bottom lip from quivering.

“I just miss him,” you whispered, “and when I’m down in Engineering it’s like he’s there. He taught me how to strip wires and how to fix anything with a wrench and some tape and God, Len, I just miss him. I miss him so much.” The sobs choked you before you could stop them. Leonard stood between your legs, pulling you against him. You buried your sobs in his blue shirt, holding onto the material as tightly as you could. “I tried to call him,” you sobbed into Leonard’s chest, “after I left the conference room I tried to call him. I should’ve done it earlier but I didn’t. I didn’t even get to say goodbye.”

“I know, sugar,” Leonard said, rubbing your back. “But he knew you loved him, and I know for a fact he loved you with all his heart. I do too, Y/N. I love you so much.”

“I’m sorry I went to Geoff. I’m sorry I-”

“Don’t be,” Leonard said, pulling back and wiping your cheeks with his thumbs. “We’re both here now. You don’t need to be sorry.” He pressed his lips against your forehead. “Love you so much,” he whispered. He leaned down and pressed his lips gently against yours. You kissed him back before another sob shook your body, and Leonard wrapped you in his arms again.

Tags:

@imamotherfuckingstar-lord @outside-the-government @martinawalker @thevalesofanduin @goingknowherewastaken @daybreak96 @8bit-arc-reactor

#star trek imagine #leonard mccoy imagine #bones imagine #leonard mccoy x reader #bones x reader #angsty sorry :(#let me know if there are any problems with it!#also does the read more work on mobile? because I noticed last time the read more didn't show up on mobile #unless tumblr just didn't even save it on desktop #hope you enjoy!!

157 notes · View notes