#this is a time where i wanna say people running around in rubber suits because discontent is running in my blood stream | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

leviackermanscleaningbuddy · 3 years

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BTS DRABBLE-OT7

Contrary to peoples' opinions-surrounding the fact that you're dating seven men that belong to the mafia-you're not helpless. You can defend yourself. But a close brush with some dangerous people has your boyfriends questioning that fact-wondering if you can protect yourself enough-and true to their natures, they're not going to stand idly by if you're in any sort of danger whatsoever.

Tags: BTS, Bangtan Boys, Bangtan Seonyendan, Bulletproof Boy Scouts, Beyond the Scene, BTS Drabble, OT7, BTS x you, BTS x reader, OT7 x reader, OT7 x you, Poly!BTS, Mafia Au, Angst, Fluff, Kim Seokjin, Min yoongi, Jung hoseok, Kim namjoon, Park Jimin, Kim taehyung, Jeon Jungkook

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Title: Protect You

The garden that surrounds the mansion is usually quiet this time of morning-the sound of birds just starting to sing their songs, the trickle of the fountain that runs down into a meandering stream through the trees-but this morning, the clear morning air is broken by the harsh, insistent sound of a squeaky toy.

"Tannie, Tannie!" You hold aloft the rubber duck and squeak it once more enthusiastically, the small dog dancing around your feet-eyes bright, ears perked, tongue lolling-as he waits for you to toss the toy once more. "You want it? Go get it!"

You throw the duck across the open space of the courtyard and the dog streaks off in a flash of black and tan fur, tiny legs churning, as he barks happily, chasing after the bouncing rubber toy.

You sit back down on the bench, slightly laughing to yourself at the dog's almost maniacal enthusiasm, and reach out a hand to caress Holly's head where he sits beside you, paws folded neatly, on the stone seat beneath the shade of the fruit trees.

"To have that kind of energy, eh, Holly?" You ask gently, glancing over at the older poodle, who gives you a slight wag of his tale, pink tongue hanging past his lips, though he has been doing nothing but sitting in the shade. You stroke his head affectionately, rubbing his soft, silky ears between your fingers. "Yeah, I know. I like the shade better too."

Tannie appears back at your feet again, panting hard, dark eyes glittering, as he proudly drops the duck he has retrieved at the toes of your sneakers.

"Good boy, Tan!" You exclaim, leaning over to pet the other dog, as he dances in place and his tail wags furiously at your praise. "You brought me your toy! You're so good. You did so good."

You stand from the bench, reaching down to round up the toys Yeontan has been playing with, and Holly rises-stretching languidly-beside you, as you glance between both eagerly waiting dogs and ask, "You guys want some water? Wanna go inside and take a break for awhile? Let's go get some water."

Yeontan, circling your feet, yips happily and bounds toward the back door, leading the way back toward the house, as you glance back to make sure Holly is following-albeit a slower pace-behind the two of you.

And that's when the pair of men step out from behind the trees that line the tall wall that surrounds the property.

The shorter one grins at you, hands stuffed deep into the pockets of his slacks, and flicks the toothpick he holds between his teeth around with a light twitch of his tongue. "Hello there, Mrs. Kim."

You watch the pair warily, as they continue to advance toward you on slow, stalking footsteps. "Gentlemen. Can I ask what you're doing in my garden?"

The man who had spoke before-the one with the long greasy hair tied at the nape of his neck-spits his toothpick onto the ground and arches a brow in your direction, hands still hidden in his pockets, though his shoulders raise slightly as he gives you a casual shrug. "Just out for a walk. Thought we'd stop in for a visit."

Holly growls at your feet, hackles raised, as the two men step closer still, and you reach down to pick him up, sheltering him in your arms, as you ask calmly, "Really? Because I don't recall that we've ever met."

"Oh, we haven't." The man replies, flicking a finger toward his taller counterpart, who has yet to speak. At his motion, his partner circles to your other side, so that you're now backed into a corner of the garden-the men on either side-and no easy escape in sight. "But we've met your husband many times." He flashes you a dangerous grin that has your insides squirming.

They're referring to Namjoon, you're sure of that. That's always been the agreement between the eight of you-you belong to all of them-but Namjoon is the public face of the relationship.

"He's never mentioned you." You state simply, trying to keep any micro expressions off your face that might hint at the fact that you're starting to get nervous. Your eyes flick toward the back door of the house, about a hundred yards away and blocked by the trees.

"Hmmm." The man leans beside you on one of the tree trunks, and you can almost taste his sweat and his rumpled suit jacket smells of damp and something resembling smoke and cat piss. "Really? Odd." He cocks his head, and his dark eyes hold a dangerous glint, as he reaches up to stroke a finger down the side of your face, Holly baring his teeth in your arms at his close proximity. "Speaking of, where is our good friend Mr. Kim? Away at work?"

There's no use trying to lie. You know-by the way he's watching you, and the stupid leer that crosses the other man's face-that they already know quite well that Namjoon isn't here.

"Yes." You nod, just barely, and jerk your skin away from the man's still trailing finger. "He had business in the city today."

"Oh, well that's too bad." The man clucks his tongue against his teeth in a display of fake disappointment, and his eyes darken as his gaze sweeps down your body. "It's a shame we missed him." He grins wickedly. "I guess you'll just have to tell him we stopped by and relay our message for us."

Before you can react, the shorter man has grabbed your wrists in clammy fingers, Holly frantically barking and snapping in your arms as he closes in on the two of you.

"Get the damn dog out of here." The man barks, struggling to maintain his grip on you as he dodges Holly's flashing teeth.

The taller man rips Holly from your arms and tosses him across the garden away from the three of you, and though he yelps, you're grateful they've released him and not tried to harm him.

Because the pit in your stomach is telling you you won't be so lucky.

The shorter man, his grip on your wrists still tight and painful, has become distracted in that moment, watching his partner toss Holly, and you take the opportunity to slam your shoe down hard on his foot.

He yelps, releasing you for the briefest second, and that's all the time you need to dart past him and toward the door of the house.

You hear the man swear behind you and yell something to the taller man about catching you before you make it inside, but all you can focus on is not tripping and tangling yourself in the foliage as you sprint toward the house.

Your salvation is within maybe ten yards, when the taller man catches up with you.

He catches your wrist and before you can make a sound, slams you with the weight of his body back against the stucco wall of the house, right beside the back door and your only bid for freedom.

You're all breathing hard when the shorter man reaches the two of you, fire blazing behind the dark rings of his irises.

"Stupid bitch." He growls out between loose lips, before hitting you hard across the face with the palm of his hand.

The slap sends your head careening back against the stone wall behind you and leaves your cheek stinging, and as you orient yourself once more-still breathing hard-you can taste the copper sheen of blood on your tongue from your newly split lip.

The man reaches for the buckle of his belt, still glaring at you, and spits on the ground at your feet, before he addresses the taller man who still holds you pinned against the wall. "Hold her still. I think it's time we taught Boss Kim and his little bitch here a long overdue lesson."

The taller man nods, and the way his fingers tighten around your wrists has you wincing slightly.

"Now." The other man steps up to you, and the stench of his warm, putrid breath washing across your face has you feeling as if you're about to vomit. His fingers close on either side of your chin and wrench your gaze up to his own. He smirks wickedly. "I hope you know, I'm going to enjoy this."

You spit in his face violently, saliva and blood mixing into a pink spittle that splashes across his face, which instantly darkens, as he releases your chin and raises his hand into the air to once again deliver a stinging blow.

And then, the sound of a gun cocking has everyone freezing in their tracks.

"What the-" The man glances at his counterpart, who has gone still and is staring with wide eyes beyond his shoulder line, and then directs his gaze in the same direction behind the three of you.

The scene he's met with instantly has his previously venomous gaze filling with terror.

Yoongi's finger is steady on the trigger as he holds the gun on the two men, features dark and deceptively treacherously calm as Jin flanks one of his sides, Hobi on the other-and their faces are just as unreadable and blank-though you know there is a dark, dangerous current of emotions brewing just beneath that calm surface.

Jungkook, Taehyung, and Jimin complete the half circle surrounding your attackers, and glancing at the absolute and utter fear on the two men's faces, you can't blame them.

Looking down the ready, waiting barrels of six guns would make anybody-no matter how brave-wet themselves where they stood.

"I told you the truth." You speak into the suddenly electric silence that has fallen over the group, and your assailant glances back at you, as if he had forgotten you were there, mouth agape, eyes wide. You offer him an innocent smile. "Namjoon is at work. But I didn't say the other six were."

The sound of another gun cocking into position has the two men whirling back to face the circle of men surrounding you.

Taehyung's finger finds the trigger of his pistol, and-normally warm eyes dark-his lips quirk upward into just the hint of a humorless smirk as he stares down the two men beside you, and when he speaks, his voice is cold and absolutely murderous as he parrots back the words the intruder had used just moments before.

"I hope you know, I'm going to enjoy this."

**********

"What happened."

It isn't a question as Namjoon strides into the room, loosening his tie as he enters, usually unruffled attitude an odd mixture of humming danger and worry.

Yoongi glances up from where he sits in the corner, polishing his gun, and grunts out darkly, "Couple of goonies thought they'd get the upper hand and take out the boss's wife."

You can tell, by the way his normally controlled movements are jerky on the barrel of the weapon, that he is still worked up.

Namjoon crosses the room to where you sit on the sofa, coming to stand before you and the boys that surround you, though Jimin doesn't look up at him, focusing on cleaning the wound that cuts across your bottom lip.

"Ouch!" You hiss out as he hits a particularly tender spot with the antiseptic, jerking back from him, as he meets your gaze and offers you a slightly apologetic look as Hobi, who sits beside you, arm around your shoulders, gives you a comforting pat on the hand.

Namjoon crouches down and ignoring Jimin, pushes past the younger man, eyes softening slightly as he runs his thumb carefully over your split lip and up the purple bruising that is just starting to show on your cheekbone. "Whoever did this, I'll make them pay. I swear it."

You lean your cheek into the palm of his hand, his skin warmed by the afternoon sun, and offer him the hint of a smile, though it hurts your lip to do so. "I know you will."

"What do we do if this happens again, Namjoon?" Jin asks from where he is leaning against the desk, watching the interaction between the two of you with careful gaze. His hands are buried deep in his pockets, and he shifts from one foot to the other, brow furrowed as he regards the younger man. "If next time-"

"There's not going to be a next time." Namjoon cuts him off abruptly, standing up once more, as he sends the other man a hard look. "This is never going to happen again."

"But what if it does." Jungkook speaks up, and his normally large doe eyes are flashing with anger, irises no longer warm, but dark, as he slams his palms down in frustration on the desk his elder leans upon. "What if it does happen again, hyung? What then? We can't keep putting her in danger like this."

"I'm really fine-" You start to protest, speaking around Jimin's fingers, who has moved back into position to keep cleaning the long cut on your lips. His fingertips press into the plush skin of your mouth, effectively cutting off your words with a gentle admonishment.

He tilts his head and stares at you, full lips curving into a gentle smile, eyes crinkling, making you feel slightly better in the way only Jimin can, and when he speaks, his voice is gentle, just like his touch.

"No one is doubting you can take care of yourself, baby girl." His fingers caress the line of your jaw and his gaze is thoughtful. "We just don't want to put you in situations where you have to."

"Hyung." Taehyung steps up beside Namjoon, who is now staring out the large window behind the desk and down onto the gardens below, and when his hand rests on the leader's arm, you note that his fingers are still speckled with blood from the stand off earlier.

When he speaks again, the deep timbre of his voice shakes slightly, as if he's still so pissed off that he can hardly control himself. "Those sons of bitches almost touched her. If we hadn't been here-"

You wince at his choice of words, because he's right. Without them, you would have been left to an incredibly dark fate at the hands of the two intruders.

"I'm with Jungkook." Yoongi finally speaks up once more, and he stands from the corner, laying his now sparkling gun aside, as he approaches Namjoon and Taehyung, still silhouetted against the window. He heaves a sigh and glances in your direction, before addressing Namjoon seriously. "She needs to be able to protect herself. God forbid, there's another time, but if there is, we can't just leave her defenseless."

You can tell that Namjoon does not take the older man's opinion lightly, and you can visibly see him weighing his hyung's words before his shoulders slump in defeat, and he lets out a tired sigh. "All right."

He strides across the room again and crouches down in front of where you sit once more, long legs folded beneath his body, as his eyes meet yours in a firm gaze. He reaches out to take your chin in his hand, in a much gentler, much more loving grip than the man had used earlier, and his lips purse into a serious, stern line, before he intones quietly, eyes soft, "It's time to teach you a few things, darling."

******

The first thing you can think when Jin leads you into the armory and you see all the weapons lining the walls is holy shit.

The second thing is how have you never noticed how many different guns the men you love have at their disposal?

"So, you've got your assaults, your machines," Jin gestures to each rack of guns as you pass by on your tour, Jungkook trailing along behind the two of you, sometimes running loving fingers up certain weapons as you walk by. "Pistols, handguns, snipers, rocket launchers-"

"Have you guys used all of these guns?" You ask, mouth agape, as you glance around the huge room full of deadly weapons.

"No way." Jungkook shakes his head, bounding up to stand beside you, as he slings an arm around your shoulders and gives you a deceivingly innocent bunny smile, as if he's not talking about guns that kill people. "Some of these are specialized. We have to hire professionals for those."

"Aren't you professionals?" You question curiously, grinning slightly as Jungkook laughs at your query.

"Okay. Eventually, you can pick what feels most comfortable for you, princess." Jin reappears from another smaller room, cocking and loading a small handgun into his palm, as he approaches you and Jungkook. "However, we're going to start small for now."

He offers the gun to you, and you hesitate only a moment, before reaching out and taking the gun from him. The metal feels cold against your palm, as you fingering the gun, trying to get used to the weight.

A low whistle sounds from the entrance of the room, and you glance up as Taehyung enters, eyes scanning the racks of guns almost fondly, as he states lightly, "Look at all the pretties."

Jin sighs from beside you, rolling his eyes, though you catch the hint of a smile, before his expression becomes neutral again. "Can you please stop talking about assault rifles the same way you talk about shoes, Kim Taehyung?"

Taehyung smirks and winks at you, eyebrow cocked cheekily, as he reaches your side and throws his arms around you and Jungkook's shoulders. "C'mon hyung, lighten up. You know our girl's gonna be a natural." He chucks you playfully under the chin. "Right, sweetheart?"

You shrug, still trying to get used the feeling of the gun in the palm of your hand. "I dunno. I hope so?"

Jin takes your hand in his and leans over to press a kiss to the side of your forehead. "I'd believe him if I were you. He's uncannily good at predicting what other people are good at."

Taehyung grins at the praise. "Yeah! Like I can tell you that I predict that Jungkookie is gonna be shit at Fortnite when we play later tonight."

"Hey." Jungkook leans around you to try and catch Taehyung with his fist as the older boy laughs.

"All right, all right." Jin berates them lightly, though you can tell he's trying not to grin at the younger boys antics. He waves toward you and the gun you still hold in your hand. "Let's get (Y/N) to the shooting range then."

Taehyung slings his arm once more around your shoulders as you all follow Jin toward the range. "Trust me, sweetheart." He offers you the hint of a soft smile and squeezes your fingers between his own. "You're gonna get so good, next time those bastards try anything, they won't know what hit them before you blow their brains out."

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luminous-shifting-vibes · 3 years

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actual fucking quotes from the shiftblr coffeehouse discord server

out of context of course, what do you take me for? a sane person?

"they made lightning mcqueen hot"

"inch resting"

"Nix: Cars (2006) several people are typing..."

"im evaporating"

"enjoy precipitation"

"tow mater is more attractive than lightning mcqueen/hj"

"lightning mcqueen looks like he would call me a slur"

"why did I come back to a discussion regarding the attractiveness of vehicles"

"lark is the braincell of shiftblr tbh"

"you all need some grass in your life"

"me over here simping for block men and now literal cars"

"didn't nick wilde commit fraud canonically"

"i have no strong opinions on whether or not nick wilde is attractive"

"I AM AROMANTIC AND I AM NOT IMMUNE TO NICK WILDE"

"I am bisexual and I. Am not into Nick Wilde based on a simple fact he looks like he will drink all my pepsi and call me names"

"What is shiftbkr but not a bunch of simps"

"cries in Bianca Monroe"

"listen i have a folder called gayass

it is mostly pictures of kyoka jiro and virgil sanders"

"Nick Wilde x Reader where he steals your car 📷 carjacker to lovers AU 📷"

"he says "mama i like to step on keyboard""

"MY MOM JUST WALKED IN AND I HAD TO TELL HER I WAS LOOKING AT LIGHTING MC QUEEN HUMAN FANART"

"crab walks away"

""Y/N..." Nick whispered into your ear. "Your car...is a Honda Civic, right?" You looked up at Nick with a baffled expression. "Nick, my beloved? Whatever are you talking about?" "Just asking..." He said as he let you out of his embrace. "Hey, wanna see a magic trick, babe?" Your eyes sparkled. "Really, Nick? Of course!" Nick smiled. "Ok, close your eyes!" You giggled and closed your eyes, waiting for Nick to tell you to open up. Instead, you heard the loud rumble of a car starting up, and you open your eyes. Nick has stolen your car, and he has driven off into the sunset..."

"did y'all know his name used to be canonically Montgomery--he changed it to lightning mcqueen to get rid of his past"

"That is my exit number"

"cars trauma arc"

"wait do y'all know about car jesus" "as if jesus wasn't a ford focus in the bible"

"oh yall do not want to know about the trauma in my cars dr lmao"

"Dewit tau style babey make Lightning McQueen outlive everyone and stalk their reincarnations"

"Do they baptize other cars in like gasoline then"

"there is a pope car in the cars universe which means car jesus died for cars sins"

"NOT THE BOOMER MEMES"

"-lays facedown on the floor while caramelldansen plays-"

"like im serious how many of you guys endorse me falling face down on my floor" (NOT THE SAME PERSON AS PREVIOUS QUOTE)

"I will be Tall and no one can stop me"

"is a soft floor?"

"stop I thought faceplant meant like a succulent in the shape of a face instead of falling onto your noggin for a solid 10 seconds"

"Touch some grass??? What about eating grass"

"what if for every employee of the month i just printed out really horrible boomer memes"

"what ab smoking grass /j"

"Can the grassdirt smoothie be a special in the cafe"

"PLEASE IM ROLLING ON THE FLOOR REWRITINH THE DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE WHIKE SPEEDRUNINT MINECRAFT"

"you have to get good dirt from like the middle of a pennsylvanian forest for it to taste good though"

"I ate a four leaf clover as a kid cause i thought it would make me lucky"

"guys how do i see the mee6 leaderboard"

"I used to think i was half dragon and I ate plants out of sidewalk cracks"

"i think i punched someone"

"my parents told me to stop doing that so I looked at them and ate a flower"

"I ate grass when I was 9 bc I read warrior cats and thought I was a medicine cat ....................."

"bees are just spicy flies"

"I had a mental breakdown when I was three cause I didn’t know how to turn off a phone"

"My mom drank a bee once"

"when I was a baby I kinned ink sans."

"bro who here find the yellow hat man from curious george fine as heck 📷📷📷"

"mY LUNGSSSSSS"

"no one topping Him"

"I like em big"

"I think Moto Moto has no game like move over hunky boy I could beat you 1v1 Roblox Arsenal 📷📷📷"

"If you didnt have a crush on springtrap, jeff the killer, or Underfell/Gaster/Error sans don't talk to me /j"

"LOOK THEY'RE BOTH DILFS WITH ABS THAT WOULD FIGHT GOD"

"ZORO IS BANNED"

"Guys please help I found my old fnaf fanart from when I was 8 I'm in literal tears"

"OH NO BOT MY FIFTH GRADE HAMILTON PHASE"

"The worst attraction ive ever had has to be Sombra Overwatch"

"My family is like "save all ur art so I can sell it when you're famous" I literally could not sell this if I tried"

"screaming puppet"

"I just remembered Ive drawn overwatch/hamilton crossover fanart"

"my hermit crabs ate each other again"

"we're cannibals ????"

"having me here is a curse you have inflicted on yourselves and I for one am glad for it <3" "scitters around like a crab in anticipation"

"CARB DAY"

"WE NEED TO HAVE A WATCH OARTY"

"hey y'all ill be right back i have to throw away a crab carcass"

"if I watch cars I'm going to start laughing in the middle of it nonstop just because the word cars is funny and also cars are funny like how do you move silly little metal box with rubber circles"

"Lark asleep post catboy pitbul"

"Mwista Wowldwide! Nya!" "hermit crab 2: electric boogaloo"

"Is that why your name is chaos"

"manifest the crab power!!"

"cool dex fact: i can't read 📷"

"sighs adds to worship these entities list"

"with a knife <3"

"yeah and if he betrays me I could probably throw him across the atlantic ocean"

"give me his eyes"

"my good citizen i am a- wait no im nonbinary nvm"

"it worked on a fish idk what to tell you"

"what is gender??? Is that a board game?? If so can I be apples to apples that one's my favorite"

"CHUTES AND LADDERS"

"anyways actually my gender is Candyland"

"Oh god romes the destroyer of friendships/j"

"i am a simple gay i see math i run in the opposite direction survival instincts 101"

"math my beloathed"

"algebra makes me want to rip open a bag of swedish fish and swallow them whole"

"cackles in they're au characters and this will be very fun"

"pog !!!! me too ksajgks one of my drs is a sanders sides au"

"Is that bipper"

"tumblr sexyman"

"Good because he’ll fuck u up if u hurt a child"

"I want a wing-suit"

"looks like a bean would poison someone"

"my hermit crabs are cannibals what can i say"

"sonic the hedgehog kinnie"

"get yourself a man who is capable of the most ungodly actions but won't do them because of their morality owo"

"tell him he can steal my wallet"

"eyes"

"idk about y'all but I need blueberry sweet tea to live"

"y'know the red souls from soul eater i really want to eat those"

"but like only respectable crimes like stealing from elon musk"

"You can go cultbashing with he!"

"He acts like a flamboyant gay man, but if a flamboyant gay man was straight."

"Simp Satan 📷"

"definitely arson"

"They look like they enjoy lemon squares and other lemon desserts"

"Satan is all-powerful but he spends most of his time building honeymoon locations because he is convinced that the protag loves him"

"bc shes the reincarnation of his dead wife or something i guess"

annd here's a quote from our very own dream (@shiftingwastaken) that sums this post up:

"shiftblr but context makes it worse"

#not shifting #shitpost #out of context #tw cannibalism #tw stealing #tw poison #tw swearing #tw: drugs #tw: smoking #tw: death

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mypimpademia · 4 years

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Bakugo, Todoroki, and Shinso w kids that are bratty

Parent!Bakugo x parent!Todoroki x parent!black!reader x parent!Shinso

TW: Swearing

Key: S/n = sons name; D/n = Daughters name

BAKUGO

You have a son, S/n Bakugo

He has mixed hair ofc, and Bakugos hair color, he has heterochromia so his left eye is the same color as yours and his right is red like Bakugos

Quirk: hand bomb; he can turn anything he lights on fire into any type of bomb (regular, smoke bomb, and even a fire work)

Its Bakugos kid ofc they're gonna be bratty

But Bakugo has too much pride to say that your son gets it from him

It mostly started when S/n was still a few months old

He was the type of baby to throw things, and slap tf out of people

The first time he slapped Bakugo, you were away on a mission and you were video calling each other

"Put S/n on camera, i wanna get a screen recording of you playing with him."

You started the screen recording and S/n was on his back while Bakugo was on his stomach, leaning over him

Bakugo went in for an Eskimo kiss but got slapped instead

The air in your lungs left all at once in a single laugh, you stopped the screen recording there, most definitely planning to post it

"THIS GOD DAMN BRAT, HE GETS THIS SHIT FROM YOU."

"From me???? Sounds like your egos too big for you to admit that its from you."

S/n got his quirk for the first time when he was 4 and you were setting off fireworks for Chinese new year

He wanted to light a fire work but you and Katsuki didn't want him getting hurt

So he threw the rubber ball he was playing with

It ended up getting set on fire from his hand and the exploding with colors against the ground

The whole party stopped right there

"OH SHITT MY SON JUST GOT HIS QUIRK."

"AND ITS COOL AS FUCK."

You let him use his quirk instead of lighting fire works, allowing him to throw plastic cups and empty water bottles

To you and Katsukis luck, it made lil man pass out early and it was easy to put him to bed

He cheats when he plays hide n seek

Hides empty bottles and other trash in his hiding places to use as smoke bombs

"S/n... where are you, brat?"

Katsuki ended up with an exploding water bottle at his foot, and then couldn't see because of the smoke

"S/N BAKUGO, WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU ABOUT SETTIN OFF SMOKE BOMBS IN MY DAMN HOUSE??"

Threatens to use his quirk when he gets mad

You could use your quirk to hold him easily without harming him at the same time

Katsuki however usually has to chase him

"GET BACK HERE, YOU DAMN BRAT."

If it happens in public Katsuki usually just picks up S/n and holds him under his arm, hands by his sides, so that he can't grab anything

Leads to the paparazzi getting some questionable shots

"Damn, I love my kid, but I didn't think he'd be such a brat."

"Kinda like you?"

"Shut up."

"Anyways, it'll prepare you for our next ones."

"Next ones?"

"Im pregnant."

TODOROKI

You have twins, a boy and a girl.

Both have mixed hair, the girl with white hair and the boy with red

D/n's quirk: Hydrokinesis; can manipulate water at will and even freeze or get it to heat up to 100° (water bender in this bitch)

S/n's quirk: Aerokinesis; can harden, change the direction of, and make himself fly by controlling the air around him, and can even take air out of something (I'd name lil dude Aang if you could predict quirks before hand)

Your son is more like Shoto, reserved and quiet

But his twin sister is the complete opposite, being loud and outgoing

Shoto loves both of your children equally, but D/n is definitely a daddys girl

S/n doesn't ask for much, but when he does, he gets it

But D/n asks for a lot of things and usually takes well to hearing you say "no"

But in the event that she can't have something she really wants, she gets extremely upset

Wanted a doll once when you only came for groceries, Todoroki said no, which added insult to injury

She saw a water fountain and used her quirk to get water from it so she could splash Todoroki

He froze it when it was about 6 inches from his face

When he looked down at D/n, you all knew she was screwed

You gave him the car key and he took D/n to the car while you and S/n continued shopping

Since S/n usually gets what he wants since he doesn't ask for much and is good a majority of the time, he doesn't know how to act when being told no

Usually activates his quirk without noticing, and there's air swarming and spinning all around him

You told him he couldn't have his favorite cake once, and he accidentally broke one of Todorokis favorite soba bowls

He wasnt allowed to have cake for 2 months

Good luck if theyre both mad at the same time

When they were toddlers, they activated their quirks for the first time in sync

It was because they were upset because the couldn't have ice cream before bed

They deadass caused an entire storm inside your house

But once they're older and their quirks are stronger, you'll have to invest in extremely waterproof floors

SHINSO

You have a daughter.

Mixed hair, Shinsos hair color, your eyes

D/n's quirk: Eyes of Illusion; anyone she looks at, she can make them see, or not see anything. If she looks someone in the eyes she can make them see their worst fear.

Another daddys girl

Hitoshi lovesss your daughter

But he only gives her things when she's been good

If she feels like she's been good but gets told no, she gets mad and uses her quirk to make it look like she disappeared

"Daddy, can I have my cookie now?"

"No, sweetie."

"Why?? I was good today."

"Good today?? Then tell us why we got a call from your teacher sayin you made everyone see a UFO again."

"..."

And thats when she disappears

Shinso usually gets her to stop using her quirk by using his own though

"Where'd you go, sweetheart?"

"Not telling-"

"Now come out for me, please."

"What have we said about using your quirk on us? No cookies for a month. Next time, I'll change the wifi password."

Activated her quirk for the first time when she was 6

You were just walking through the house and all the sudden there was a giant piece of fried chicken flying through the air

When you realized only you and D/n could see it, you realized it was her quirk

Often used it during hide n seek and when she was getting late night snacks

Over all, she's the least bratty out of all of the children, but she could be wayyy more petty and make you think something serious happened by using her quirk

Sometimes, if she's mad at one if you specifically, she'll make the other see them in a clown suit

But when you've really upset her, she'll make you see the lay out of the house differently so that you run into things

"D/N SHINSO, I'LL CHANGE THIS WI-FI PASSWORD."

Usually gets what she wants at some point when she actually deserves it, but youre not above taking the whole thing back if she does something bad right after

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brianc521 · 5 years

Text

Play | CEO Peter

You were determined not to let the churning in your gut ruin your night. Damn it you had plans.

Trying to avoid the flu was almost a joke, it was flying through your employee list faster than they were recovering. Something was going around it wasn’t going to stop until it took you all down. It was your turn now.

This though, no it didn’t work for you. Peter had a launch dinner tonight. Which means a huge crowd of people. Means, Karrie Ryden and her disapproving judgemental looks. Means Nick Ryden stealing Peter all night to discuss work. Means Sheryl and Ken’s offhanded comments about how your marriage will be a failure.

It sounds awful, and it probably will be, but it was the afterparty you were looking forward too. Peter hasn’t been much of, well, himself since you left the last time. You haven’t been his Kitten. And you want to be. You’re ready for him. You had plans to show him that, to have your Daddy back.

Having the flu ruins that, because what man wants his Kitten when she's holding back her lunch contents?

Sitting in your car on the way home Peter calls, his smooth voice filling your car.

“Hey Baby I had a late meeting, I’m not gonna have enough time to meet you at home. So I’ll have Bailey drive you to dinner and I’ll just meet you there okay?”

“Pet-”

“Wear the blue dress, it’ll match the tie I’m wearing tonight.”

With that the line cut and you sighed, you’ll just have to fight through the fever you were absolutely sure you were spiking.

After popping a few headache painkillers, breathing through the fifth wave of nausea and taking a cold shower to fight off the heat you were sweating through you finally made it to the dinner, a little late.

You walked in and smiled at the crowd that greeted you by the door. The second you stepped into the dining room you had to hold your breath. The scent of dinner had your stomach bubbling in a bad way and the heat of the room had you feeling slightly dizzy.

The girls got to you first, demanding to see your ring and wanting to talk about wedding plans, not even giving you a second to really greet them. You were struggling, majorly, and no one cared to notice.

Well, except the man in the corner of the room. He knew you better than you knew yourself. He was awaiting your arrival, and the air changed for him when you walked in the door. It’s like his energy changes when you're near. He figured he’d hang back a minute, let the girls have their fun with you, but when he caught sight of your pale demeanor and fake pained smile he set his drink down and be-lined straight for you.

“Ladies,” His smooth voice cut through the high pitched gossiping. They parted and stared at the two of you curiously. “May I steal my girl?” He grinned, showing off a cool approach when he was really shaking on the inside, nervous as to why you looked so, off?

He held his hand out for you, and you slipped your clammy one into his. He looked down at your intertwined hands, brows furrowing at the feel of yours. He tugged you closer, taking you off to the side of the room. You didn’t say anything, just looked at his chest for a moment, allowing yourself to settle before you hurled all over his expensive suit.

“Honey?”

You didn’t respond, just looked up with glassy eyes. His softened at your stare and his worried gaze inspected your face. He leaned forward to press a kiss to your forehead and he pulled back in shock at the heat radiating off of you.

“You’re running a fever.” He gasped, looking around to signal Bailey for the car. “Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t feeling well?” He started to move, rushing around you to grab your coat and purse that you don’t remember setting down at his table.

“Peter.” He grabbed his bicep.

“What Sweetheart?”

“I need you to stop moving.” You gulped. Clinging to his arm.

“What’s the matter?” He hushed his voice, dipping his head into your ear.

“I’m trying not to get sick all over your suit, please stop moving for a moment.” You hissed through clenched teeth.

“Oh Baby.” He whipped his phone out, clicking it once and pressing it to his ear. “Where are you?” He spit, and then looked down at you. “Pull back around.” He shook his head, rubbing soothing circles on your back. “No, she’s sick. We’re leaving.” He sighed and dropped his head. “Call me next time.”

With that he hangs up his phone and stuffs it back in his pocket. “Okay, I’m okay.” You nod looking up at him.

“We’re leaving, Bailey’s pulling back around. He didn’t even get to park yet.”

“What? No, Peter we have-”

“You’re sick,” He chuckles, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear. “You come first, you know that. We’re going home, you’re gonna take a bath, and we’re gonna rest for the night. Tell me what hurts?”

“My stomach,” You sigh. “I’ve been trying not to throw up all day.”

“Baby,” He looks into your eyes. You know what he’s trying to say without having to say it.

“No,” You shake your head. “I’m not, it’s the flu. It’s been going around work, I just got done.” You gave him a look, reminding him that your period just ended.

He sighs, looking down, “Okay well then you need fluids and rest. Let’s go, are you okay to walk outside?”

He brushes a hand from your forehead, checking your fever, as you stir. You look at him in a panic, not remembering getting home.

“Calm down Baby.” He whispers, smiling softly at you. “We’re home, you’re safe. I’ve got you.”

“What happened?” You croak, looking at him with eyes.

“You fell asleep on my lap during the drive home. I carried you in and helped you get ready for bed, then tucked you in.”

“Oh,” You took note of your body, feeling your favorite sleep shorts brushing your thighs, and his NASA shirt adorning your torso. “Thanks for taking care of me.”

“Of course, Wife.” He grins, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “Care to explain why I found you the way I did? We should have never gone.”

“I wanted to push through for you.” You look at him from under your lashes.

“And pushing through had nothing to do with the way I found the house this evening when we arrived?”

You think back and then balk in panic. You’d left a bottle of wine in the fridge, glasses and rose petals in the kitchen, candles and slow sultry music in the bedroom. You planned to seduce your husband when you got home.

You hide in embarrassment, covering your face with the duvet.

“Hey,” He pulls at the cover, “Don’t hide from me.” He tsks, cupping your face with his hands. “You had plans tonight?”

“I wanted to go back to being us.” You whisper.

“When have we not been us?” He asks, eyes squinting. “I was under the impression that we are as good as we’ve ever been.”

“We are!” You argue, sitting up.

“Hey, take it easy.” He whines, hands moving to slow you down. Ready to reach for a bucket if you needed it. Instead you steadied yourself by breathing deeply, and when you opened your eyes he was holding a glass of water for you. “Small sips, and in a minute you’ll have some dry toast.”

“Okay.”

“Back to that conversation, do you feel we’re not strong?”

“Of course not, we’re stronger than ever.”

“Then?” He raises an eyebrow.

“But I’m Baby.” You sigh.

“Yes.” He nods.

“Not Kitty.”

He rears back as if you slapped him. “Oh.”

“I’m sorry, I am. I love us, and I love you. I love where we are, and how we’ve grown. I love that we’re married, but just because we’re married doesn’t mean we have to be boring.”

“Boring?” His mouth curls up in a teasing grin. “You think our sex life is boring? Do I bore you Mrs.Mendes?”

You smack his shoulder and grin at him. “I think you know the answer to that question.”

“Do I? Do you fak-”

“Shut up Peter.” You shove him, giggling softly. “Of course not, I don’t think I could, I mean one you can read me like a book. Two, there’s no need, my husband knows how to provide for a girl.”

“A girl? No.” He shakes his head, leaning closer, next to your ear. “My wife? Most definitely.”

“I just, I don’t want you to miss anything we had before.”

“I promise you,” He threads his fingers with yours. “I love what we have, and where we are in our marriage.”

“What if I miss it a little?”

“You miss it?”

“You just,” You sigh. “You seem reserved with me now. Like I’m fragile, can’t handle it the way I used to. I can, I’m still me.”

“Baby.” He sighs, dropping his head. “I know you can, I know that. I just, I don’t want to be that way so much anymore. Trust me I love the kinky hot sex. I do totally, but I don’t really want to look back in 40 years and be like, oh yeah the day I got her pregnant with my first born she was ball gagged and bound to the bed.”

You gasp at his words. “Pregnant?”

“We haven’t totally talked about it, but I thought when you stopped taking the pill and told me I didn’t need to use a condom we were lowkey trying?”

“I don’t know, it was my way of saying we’re not trying but we’re not avoiding either.”

“Mine too.” He nods, squeezing your hands. “I just, I want to make love with you.”

You swoon at his words, sighing. “Now you make me seem like a sexcrazed bitch.”

“Hey,” He furrows his brows. “Don’t speak of my wife like that please.” He reprimands. “I’m hearing you. So let’s compromise.” He grins, wiggling his eyebrows, scheming glint in his eyes. “For as much as we aren’t trying and not avoiding, we can play too okay?”

“Okay.”

“But Baby,” His voice drops. “While we play,” He sighs, “I want to wear a rubber.”

You look at him and study his face. “If that’s what you want.”

“I want you to be my Baby Mama, but it just doesn't feel good in my gut to do it that way. That’s fun and play, the down and dirty that brought us together. It’s not the love that kept us together.”

“You’re too good for this world Peter Mendes.”

“You’re too good for me Mrs.Mendes.” He responds, leaning over and grabbing the plate of toast he made you. “Small bites, need my Baby feeling better.”

You smile at him, taking a small bite. “I love you, thank you for talking with me.”

“You just had to ask Kitty, I’ll always wanna play.” He winks, stealing a bite of your toast and padding away to the bathroom to get ready for bed as well.

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elliethesuperfruitlover · 4 years

Text

Feather Boas and Hors’ D’oeuvres

A/N: This is part two of my Halloween themed fics for @badsext. It’s the Robbie x reader one! Upon writing this author’s note (I write them before I start writing the story), I have 12 works in progress, counting this one. I have no idea why in the name of the lord I have decided to do this shit, but I love writing, and love writing for other people. Here in this household, we support all bodies. All bodies are beautiful, and you better be loving yourselves beech. I hope this ends out well.

Warnings: food, bad words, mention of insecurities, self hatred (but it’s recovered, don't worry luvs x)

“Robbie, I am NOT wearing that outside. Where the hell am I meant to go wearing that, love?” you ask, looking at the outfit he prepped for me with hesitance.

“You’ll be fine dear, just don’t turn too much or y’know. Everything’ll spill out.” he says, turning me in different directions.

“Yeah, yeah. I might have to deconstruct it, and add more fabric, Robbie, this is a LOT.” you say, poking and prodding at yourself, trying to suck the infamous tummy ™ in.

“Ahh, stop that now. That squish is perfectly fine, and your organs have to go somewhere. You’re fine just the way you are. No need to suck that in, nobody needs that much breath control. Not even a strong swimmer, love. Unsuck that belly, and let’s get on with all this, okay?” he says, wrapping an arm around your shoulder, kissing the side of your head.

You take the costume off, careful not to rip any of it, and put it back, waiting for Robbie to open the door, as he does. You put on your regular clothes, and decide to snoop around a bit, and look at the more absurd options in the Costume Shop. Some of this shit just does not make sense, please, society, change, and for the better this time. You do not want to wear a bathing suit outside, in 60 degree weather, just so you can say “I went Trick or Treating”. Not doing it, sorry. Those thoughts ran through your head as you went through the store, letting out a chuckle at the thought of breathing in nothing but rubber for an extended amount of time.

“Have you been having fun, going around, no worries.” Robbie asked, sneaking up from behind you, his cold arms creating goosebumps along your flesh.

“I’ve been talking to myself about just how not okay some of these costumes are.” you said, mentioning the puzzle pieces.

“That’s my problem with these things. What happened to the days where everyone went outside naked, and thought nothing of it.” Robbie asked, catching himself as he saw neon pink feathers.

“Periods exist, and it’s just too damn cold for me to go outside like that, you know that.” I say, following his eyes and sensing the chaos about to ensue.

“What about this huh?” Rob said, wrapping a painful neon pink boa around his neck.

You shook your head at his antics, and he chased you around the store with the wretched thing, trying to capture you with it. Along the way, he collected many more items, including fake blood, vampire teeth, copious amounts of candy, and a tiny top hat, colored yellow. It had sparkles all on it, and he put it on top of his head. In his arms, a couple things began to topple over, but he ran to the front register, and quickly placed it down before he had to pay for it, plus extra.

“All this please, along with this costume, and one of your “Pretty Princess” balloons in the back there please.” he said, glitter getting in his eyes. The cashier rolled their eyes, and scanned all of the items, and almost forgot the top hat on Robbie’s head, which he bent over for them to scan.

As soon as all of the items were scanned and paid for (and when Robbie got his balloon), the two of you got in the car, and headed back to the house, to decorate it accordingly. The car ride was quite short, but boy did it feel long. Robbie was stretched out in the back with his balloon, and you drove through the traffic, tapping your hands on the steering wheel when a certain beat hit.

Boys and girls of every age, wouldn’t you like to see something strange

Close your eyes and you will see, this our town of Halloween

“Yes, ohmygod ohmygod, THIS IS MY SONG!” you said, damn near breaking the dial to scream along to the song. Yes, you were getting weird looks from the families in their own cars, but you were feeling it.

Robbie laughed from the back, and twisted around, leaning over to kiss you on the cheek, joining you in the chaos that is yelling song lyrics in a car. You moved along in your seat, and admittedly ran 2 red lights, dodging potholes and cracks in the road. As the song ended, the glitter from Robbie’s hat had come off somewhat, and in almost every available place, there was yellow glitter. You laughed, and knocked some of it off of the radio dial, and put your attention fully on the road, instead of purposefully missing notes just to spite yourself. A couple minutes after the song ended, you arrived at your shared home, and emptied the car of costumes, decor, and of course, the balloon, which was starting to get more and more absurd.

“Where are we going to put half of these things?’ you ask, roaming around the house, trying to come up with a spot for your Halloween themed objects to go.

“Some of them could go outside, not much out there. The little cobwebs can go in the corners, not to be confused with the real cobwebs. The candles can go in here, Mr. Skelly can go on the mantle. We’ll figure everything else out. Oh, and the costumes go in the closet, that’s simple enough.” he says, setting Mr. Skelly in his rightful place.

You went down all the halls, pinning the fake cobwebs in the corners, avoiding the fake spiders. You even sprinkled some remaining glitter on the tables, trying not to breathe too much in. The fake blood was put into the bathroom, for special effects just in case you decided to be an oldie but goldie vampire. Robbie was busy getting the candles together, and he eventually got his balloon out of the car, where it had deflated some. It was put in the kitchen, along with your numerous house plants, also away from the infamous pink butter knife. He started on dinner, which was a soup of sorts, and he made the both of you a cup of coffee, pumpkin spice sadly excluded.

Soon enough, the sun was setting, and the two of you began lighting candles, and putting the warm soup into bowls, and getting washed up before putting your costumes on. You sipped on it, and turns out it was tomato soup, with grilled cheese sandwiches because originality in cooking is always welcome, but sometimes simple does it. The two of you ate in semi-silence, music playing from the record player in the living room.

“Can you taste the red food dye this time?” Robbie asked, taking a sip of wine from his glass.

“No, not this time, at least it doesn’t make me feel like I’m a hot air balloon. Too much red food dye is lethal to anyone living, I don’t care who the fuck you are, it’s not like I’m immune to things that taste like shit.” you say, biting into the sandwich.

“True, true, I hope it isn’t that bad, I mean, I can poison you if you’d like, just take a bite out of that candle, it’ll take you right out of here.” he says, pointing towards the lit candle in the corner of the room, which flickered due to the air in the room.

You chuckled at the thought, and from there on, you two ate in complete silence, until you finished, and Robbie offered to wash the dishes, and you took him up on it, heading back upstairs to freshen up and get ready to go trick-or-treating that night. As you were putting your costume on, certain places weren’t the same size that they were, and a couple tears ran down your face, and onto the fabric. You knew why you were frustrated, and you knew it was a really bad excuse to be crying, but the sobs only got heavier and heavier, until you were on the floor, clutching the carpet in your hands, trying to calm back down. You were sobbing so hard that you didn’t even hear Robbie’s bare feet padding in the halls, and him stopping when he found you on the ground, in your costume.

He didn’t say anything, only holding you as you cried, running his fingers over your hair, comforting you. You finally calmed down, and were reduced to sniffles. That’s also when you began to talk.

“Why do I have to be like this?” you asked him, seemingly, hands clutching his tank top.

“Everyone has insecurities. Society makes us, especially women feel like they have to look a certain way, act a certain way. You’re perfectly fine the way you are. You also just ate tomato soup and a sandwich, your belly is going to be a little bigger. That’s simply how humans are made, you can’t avoid it. You’re not ugly or gross for being human. Or for having a couple rolls, or stretch marks. They’re beautiful. You know I always love to see them. Doesn’t make you any less attractive.” he says, brushing his knuckles against your cheek.

“Yeah, but why do I have to feel bad about it if it doesn’t matter.” you reply, furrowing your eyebrows.

“I told you, it’s society’s fault for doing that shite to you. It’s not your fault in the least. You’ve been taught to believe all of that. You’re not in the wrong here. You are beautiful, and nobody can take that away from you.” he says, tilting you to the side, looking you in the eyes.

The two of you had a moment where there was almost silence, the only thing making noise were the kids outside, already in their costumes, cutely saying trick-or-treat. Your sniffles had subsided, and now your eyes were returning to their normal off-white color. Robbie put his fingers under your chin, and leaned towards you, kissing your lips full on. His hand slipped to the small of your back, holding you up. The two of you sat there, quiet in the gathering moonlight, still on the floor enjoying the company.

“You wanna get out of here, so I can get in my costume, and we can get gobsmacked with sweets?” Robbie asked, rubbing knuckles against yours.

“Sure, fuck it.” you say, smiling, grabbing his hand, and heading to the bathroom to get that fake blood, and put it to good use.

Robbie went into the bathroom after you, and soon enough, he came out, and that corset was hugging him in all of the right places. You grabbed your pumpkin basket, made of plants, and headed outside, elbows interlocked with Rob’s. The two of you headed to each house in the area, going “trick or treat” to each adult at the door, even getting giggles from little children. It began to rain, and the two of you ran into each puddle on purpose, getting completely soaked in the process. When you two got home, you rid yourselves of the homemade candy, cleaned it all off, and ate some of it. Just as it was reaching the early morning hours, the two of you went to sleep on the couch, snickers bar wrappers surrounding you.

Masterlist

#robert sheehan fluff #robert sheehan x reader #robert sheehan imagine #halloween fic #spooky #self love #encouragement

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not-safe-for-bts · 5 years

Text

Terms and Conditions of Friendship {JHS} [2]

Part 2 of a looooonggg one-shot, please read the first part here! Also sorry for any grammatical/spelling errors I’m posting before editing today!

Warnings: swearing (it’s me), fuckboy!BTS, sexual tension with like all of the members, a road trip with 7 rowdy men, slight exhibitionism, teensy bit of masturbation, Dom!Hoseok, a very needy, bratty sub!Reader, spanking, oral (m/f receiving), daddy kink (again, it’s me, cmon), overstimulation, squirting, thigh riding, normal(?) riding, unprotected (wrap it up, kids!), just filth

Summary: 13 has always been an unlucky number. Always. It’s just... written into the laws of nature at this point. So it’s no surprise that when you hit the 13th month of your - ahem - dry spell, you do the one thing you swore you’d never do.

Masterlist

~^*^~

“Where did this come from?” You inquire, gesturing to the car. Hoseok has to applaud you. You’re playing your innocent part very well indeed, considering he’s caught you masturbating twice in two days. There’s that sheen in your eyes, a cloud threatening to thunder over your entire face but you’ve kept your composure. He’s actually kind of proud.

“Oh, this thing?” Hoseok snaps the bonnet down and turns to face you. He wipes away the grease on his fingers with a towel, making sure to flex and he suppresses a smirk when you very obviously almost drool at the sight of his arms.

“Mhm.”

“Well, she’s been here for like two years now. Runs so fucking smoothly. I don’t take her to campus because it’s a pretty decent car and someone in the city would definitely highjack it given the chance.”

“I see. So you leave it here?”

“Guess so. I was actually about to give her a spin. Do you wanna come?” He’s looking down at you, his brown locks falling into his face as he does so. There’s a smile plastered on his face. The one that makes his rosy lips so wide and kissable, and his cheekbones become like 100x more noticeable. His eyes are sparkling with the excitement and how can you say no to such a beautiful face?

Okay. Maybe you should have said no. Turns out that this death trap has a horsepower of over 300 and Hoseok likes to go fast. Really fast. He’s a baby when it comes to rollercoasters. He hates them. He also hates things like boats and he gets a little nervous flying. But driving the deathmobile round right bends at 120- 120MPH?! - is not an issue for him?! Oh dear god you’re going to die horny as fuck and with Hoseok next to you and it’s going to be the most pathetic thing.

“Let’s see how fast we can go here!” It’s a straight road. It’s already hot today because you can see the ripples coming from the ground up made entirely of heat. Hoseok pushes harder on the accelerator and you are praying to every single god to please not die like this. Then you look over at Hoseok and everything just stops. His face is plastered in this big goofy smile. You’ve never seen him so ecstatic in your life. He’s gripping onto the steering wheel to the point his knuckles are turning white and you kind of think that he is a little scared of going this fast. Is he doing this to impress you? You mentally scoff. His arms are flexing with every tug at the wheel and he’s laughing so hard that his eyes are closing and you aren’t sure if he can even see the road. But... your heart falters and just looking at this bubbly, smiley, bundle of absolute happiness is enough for you to feel the adrenaline. Suddenly you’re not so scared because it’s Hoseok and he’s told you a million times that he won’t let anything hurt you. You suspect he had a hand in Jackson’s mysterious fall down two flights of stairs but he never really brought it up after uttering “well he did deserve it”.

You’re laughing now and so is Hosoek and you’re doing 145mph and Jesus Christ this is the most fun you’ve ever had in your life!

You and Hoseok drive around for a couple of hours after this and he slows down a lot. You’re still doing like 70 in 50 areas but it’s not nearly as fast as that straight where you were momentarily convinced that you were going to die. You chat with Hoseok, and he starts asking you about your grandmother.

Despite knowing him closely for so long, this topic never really came up until now. You find yourself pulling at the hem of your play suit (which only reaches your mid-thigh anyway) and unable to look at him.

“Hey,” he takes a hand from the wheel to pull your chin up gently and look at him, “you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want.” He released you and the butterflies are bursting in your guts. Can they fuck off already?

“No, no...” you shake your head, “I just don’t tell a lot of people about this aspect of my life... about my parents and stuff.”

“I see..” he hums but he doesn’t press you. Part of you wants to tell him. You don’t know why. But it does so you kind of do.

“I never got along with my mother.” You suddenly pipe up, looking straight ahead. You can’t bear to look at Hoseok right now, “it wasn’t like she ever physically abused me or anything but... I never bonded with her. At all. We never got on. Even when I was small she was kind of vicious towards me and as I grew closer with my dad, the worse she got. But she was always afraid of my grandmother. So I stuck by my grandma... she’s basically taken over as a mother figure in my life since I haven’t spoken to my actual mother since I left to study... she’s done everything for me my whole life, acting as though she was my real mother... even if she isn’t, she’s my whole world I guess...” you’re trailing off and you feel so stupid for opening up to Hoseok.

But Hoseok is driving real slow because he’s paying absolutely no attention to the road right now. He’s looking at you as you screw you hands into fists and look down. You’re blinking and he knows you’re fighting back the tears. He didn’t know... No one would have ever known you had such a detrimental flaw in your upbringing. Despite the shit you’ve clearly been out through by your own mother, you’re still so happy and cheerful, you still lend a hand and act so nicely towards everyone. Hoseok is in shock, he has to admit it.

There’s a sudden urge within him and he kind of wants to kiss you. Maybe it will make you feel a little better. But that’s kind of weird, so he looks straight ahead, too and drives back to the summerhouse in silence.

The whoops of the maknaes fill the air as they all jump into the cool water. Namjoon is sitting at the edge of the water, with his feet dangling in and a book in his hands he’s threatened the boys to leave him alone and he’s been so kind as to sit away from where the three youngest frat members are playing. Yoongi is sitting under a tree, watching the commotion with his head lolling. He’s clearly halfway to sleep. Seokjin is thundering out of the house with a flamingo rubber ring, fluorescent yellow arm bands and blue swimming goggles. He’s charging down the grass and he cries out for the maknaes to move. Taehyung isn’t quite as quick as the other parts of the trio and Seokjin crashes into him. You wince at the sound. You’re sitting on the bench a little way from the water. As nice as it looks, you’re kind of not in the mood to play anymore. Hoseok hasn’t spoken to you since your confession in the car and you’re worried you’ve scared him away.

You listen to the splashes and screams of the members but you’re looking down at the dirt. Some ants are bustling around your feet and there’s a ladybug chilling out on a blade of grass not too far away. The whole bench shifts suddenly and you look up. There’s a glass of lemonade sitting in front of you on the peeling wooden table, which is gaining condensation fast. There’s another one on the other side of the table and Hoseok is sitting opposite you.

“Hi...” he trails off. He feels bad for suddenly clamming up but he gets a little awkward sometimes. He looks at your face and it’s unreadable. In fact, this is the first time he’s not seen that little glint of heat in your eyes. Fuck. This is his fault.

“...hey...” you mumble, “thanks,” you motion to the glass in front of you.

“Look,” he begins and then clears his throat. God it’s hot out here, “about earlier, I’m sorry-“

“Don’t worry about it. I shouldn’t have said anything-“

“No, I’m the one who asked in the first place. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable and now I’ve been an ass and upset you. I’m sorry.” Jesus Hoseok is looking at you in such a way that makes you want to burst into tears. How do you feel guilty right now?

“Seriously, Hoseok, forget it.” You wave him off.

“I’d like to meet her.” He suddenly muses.

“Huh?”

“Your grandma. I gotta thank her for raising such a wonderful person.” There it is again. That genuine smile. Your heart falters yet again.

“Oh...” you whisper softly and a blush blossoms across your cheeks.

~^*^~

“jUNGKOOK-!” Your voice is high pitched and cut off within an instant as your body is flung into cold water. You surface, spluttering for a moment before your eyes lock and a fiery gaze is set on the maknae.

“Swim, Jungkook, Swim!” Jimin calls and Jungkook knows he fucked up. You catch up to Jungkook in almost no time and you’re forcing him under the water until his head squeezes between your legs. You freeze up at the sensation and suddenly you’re being pushed up from below. Jungkook throws you up using his arms and your legs untangle from his neck. You land in the water again and when you surface, your laughing. Jungkook is smirking at you.

“Damn, [First], I didn’t know you were gonna try and suffocate me with your thighs.” You flush.

“Jeez, [First],” Jimin chimes, “wouldn’t you prefer to do that to someone-Oof!” You elbow Jimin hard in the stomach and he doubles over in the water.

“Oh my god who?!” Jin is paddling over, still wearing the rubber ring. He’s discarded the goggles and armbands.

“Jimin!” You whine, “you’re such a loudmouth!”

“Okay but who do you really want to suffocate with your thighs? Is it me because you can totally do that.” Jin waggles his eyebrows and you immediately splash him.

“It’s kind of obvious who.” Namjoon chirps, turning the page on his book.

“Who?” Jungkook, Taehyung and June chorus.

“Hos-“

He can’t finish his word because he’s tugged down. The poor book goes flying and luckily lands on the grass but Namjoon is pulled right under the water. The other three burst into laughter and even Yoongi is letting out a chuckle under his tree.

But the damage is done. The boys now know that you have a thing for Hoseok and you don’t know how you’re going to recover. You and Namjoon wrestle under the water for a moment before he finally wind and his arms are wrapped around you. He’s swimming back towards the edge.

“Namjoon let me go!” You laugh.

“You’re not allowed to play in the water anymore.” He huffs.

He looks kind of really hot with wet hair and plump lips and droplets of water moving down towards said lips. You shake your head and then Namjoon is pushing your butt up and out of the water. You squeal at the sensation of his hands on you and you wriggle away from him. Just as you stand and begin running your hands through your sopping hair, Hoseok emerges from the house. He’s in nothing but his swimming trunks and he takes one look at you and almost busts a nut right there. You’re glistening with water droplets, body on full display from the bikini you’re wearing. Seriously, why do you wear such oversized clothes with a body like that?! You are the eighth wonder of the world.

Hoseok is frozen in place as he watches the way your body moves as you pull your hands through your hair to wring it out. Namjoon’s looking over at him with a shit-eating grin and Hoseok has to do something. Anything. Oh god do something, Hoseok!

“[FIRST]~!”

He’s sprinting towards you and your eyes bulge when you see him. Okay, you do not remember Hoseok’s body being that tones and defined. Shit. He’s hurtling towards you. He’s not stopping.

Why isn’t he stopping?

You go to scream but Hoseok’s arms have wrapped around you and you’re both crashing into the water. It already feels ice cold again and you’re in his arms which feel so hot - a deep contrast to say the least. You both surface and you wipe the water from your face, and then Hoseok’s. You can feel one of his legs pushed between your own and you are certain he can feel your pulse... there. He’s so close... your hands are on his biceps and his hands are on your waist. Your chests are pushed together and he can feel your heart hammering in your chest. Your faces are mere inches apart. His eyes flicker from your lips to your eyes and he’s seriously debating it this time. But he’s in front of all of the boys...

“Hi...” he whispers.

Your eyes are blown wide and you feel his leg move between yours. You whimper at the contact. Oh. Now there’s that look again. Hoseok is trying not to smirk. He’s got you right where he wants you.

“Hoseok, I would prefer it if you didn’t get any jizz in there!” Seokjin calls, “it’s freshwater!”

You push yourself away from Hoseok with some force and he begins to laugh at your embarrassed expression. But you’re all riled up again from being so close to him. You’re going to hell. You’re definitely going to hell.

~^*^~

“-and then the next thing I know, she’s blowing me under the table!” Jungkook reaches the end of his obscene story and you roll your eyes. There’s no way in hell that happened. You just don’t believe him.

There’s a fire crackling in the centre of the circle you guys have made and you’re sitting on the rickety arm of Hoseok’s camping chair and Jimin is on the other side of you in his own chair. There’s a guitar sat next to Jungkook but it’s long abandoned now that he’s started to talk about his many sex adventures with many girls. You have to admit, though, some of the shit that has been coming out of his mouth is kind of turning you on.

The boys, except for Hoseok and Yoongi, begin to debate on the percentage of truth in this story you know it’s closer to like 10 but Jungkook is adamant it is completely accurate. You feel fingers on your sides. Hoseok pulls you down into his lap and nestles into your neck.

“You’re warm.” He hums quietly.

This is weird.

You look around. Jungkook is getting ready to throw hands at Seokjin who is getting worked up about this story definitely being a lie, but also Namjoon who is giving pretty accurate stats on how it definitely isn’t true. Yoongi is somehow dozing off (again) and Jimin and Taehyung are exchanging notes of 20s. No one is paying attention to you or Hosoek.

“It’s the fire.” You whisper. What the hell is going on?

“I really don’t think it is.” He’s gripping your hips pretty tightly now. What is he doing? Is he drunk? You can’t turn to face him because you’re honeslty too scared. If you turn, this won’t actually be happening anymore, or it is and Hoseok is fucking with you and then you’re going to be pissed.

His fingers press in and suddenly, he’s guiding you to move very slowly against his thigh. You bite your lip, a shock of pleasure running up your spine. His lips are hovering over the skin of your neck and you’re already unable to breathe. The material of your romper is thin and after playing in the water, you opted against underwear. It’s almost just like rubbing against his jeans bare. That friction feels so good, though.

“Hoseok...” you mumble, “the boys-“

“-are not looking. Keep going.” He whispers against your skin. You’re growing hot already and Hoseok is moving your hips a little faster now. Your fingers grip into the arms of his chair and you’re so close to whimpering. So close. Already, the pleasure bubbling in your core is sending you feral. The fact that it’s Hoseok isn’t helping at all. The fire is burning and licking the air, but you can’t hear it. In fact, you can’t really hear much except for your breathing. Your burning up.

Hoseok halts your hips when you move a little too quickly and Jimin almost turns back to look at you.

“Go upstairs.” Hoseok whispers and you’re pushed up against your will. The pressure and the friction is gone in an instant and you want to sit back down and come like that, “now.” Hoseok sends a very light spank to your ass and you’re off as if you were some fucking race horse.

You’re stood in the bedroom you and Hosoek have shared over the last few nights. It’s really hot in here tonight and you don’t know if it’s just you or if the weather report was right and a heatwave is beginning. You can hear the boys downstairs laughing again and you know someone else is sharing an equally dirty (and fake) story. The door behind you closed quietly and you jump a little.

Hoseok says nothing as he prowls forward. He’s going to have his way with you tonight. He can’t hold himself back anymore and god knows how you’ve done it for a year. He’s going to help you catch up on what you’ve missed, that’s for sure.

The silence is broken when Hoseok’s lips connect to your neck and you sigh. His arms wrap around your waist and he grinds into you. How is he so hard already?

“You’ve been so bad lately haven’t you?” He hums against your neck, “so, so bad.”

“H-Hoseok...” you gasp when his teeth graze your skin.

“Hmm?”

You turn in his arms, your own wrapping around his neck as you bring him into a fiery kiss. Your teeth kind of crash together a little bit but neither of you care. Hoseok’s hands move down your waist, giving your ass a good squeeze before he hooks his hands around the back of your thighs and you jump up into him. Your cores press against one another and Hoseok moans at the feeling. You’ve literally never been so far gone like this before in your life and you don’t know why on Earth you decided to 1) let Hosoek make you ride his thigh 2) kiss Hoseok like this.

He takes a few steps back before you’re falling back on to the bed and like your bodies crashing down, the realisation crashes upon you that you’re kissing Hoseok. You pull away. You had always promised yourself not to get involved with the boys. Even if you liked them as much as you like Hoseok.

“What? What’s wrong?” One of his hands is caressing your arm and he sits up beneath you.

“I... we can’t Hoseok...” you sigh before running a hand through your hair.

“What?” He’s kind of shocked. The first offer of sex you’ve had in so long and you’re turning it down...?

“We can’t sleep together. It’s not... I don’t know. It just feels kind of weird and-“

“It doesn’t have to change anything between us.” Ouch. Hoseok winces at his own words. He’s a fucking idiot, “what I mean is-“ he immediately tries to backtrack, “-we can. It doesn’t need to be weird. Think of it as a friend helping out another friend.”

“I didn’t realise I was helping you but-“

“No, you dummy. I’m helping you.” He doesn’t think he needs to spell it out for you but whatever.

“Ok oka-... wait. Wait, wait, wait. How do you know that I need help...?” You furrow your eyebrows and you kind of look really cute. Especially since your hands are pressed against his chest and you’re straddling him and-

“Don’t get mad, okay?” Hoseok sits up more, one arm wrapping around you so that you’re still on him, “back at the house, I kind of overheard you telling Jimin that you haven’t gotten laid in a while.”

“Oh...” fuck. Now you must seem like a loser to him, “well, I was totally bluffing about how long ago it was.”

“Really?” He arches an eyebrow.

“Totally.” You’re nervous he can hear it in your voice, “it’s only been like three... Uh three...-“

“Honeslty, [First].” Hoseok prompts.

“Thirteen months...”

Fuck.

Thirteen months?!

“So that explains you flicking your bean in the bathroom-“

“You heard-?!” You shriek but Hoseok cuts you off.

“-and last night in bed as well-“

“-Hoseok I-“

“-think of this as the terms and conditions of our friendship. You are in need and I am available to help you.” He’s grinning at you, “let me help you, you poor, poor little thing.” He coos and he’s suddenly turned form Hoseok to... you don’t even know who this guy is, “would you like that?”

He pulls your chin towards him and you’re kissing again. It’s feverish and almost as hot as the room itself. Your arms wrap around Hoseok’s neck once more. This is just a friend helping out another friend in need. That’s all it is. His fingers are suddenly pressing against your bundle of nerves and you moan into his mouth. This gives Hoseok the perfect opportunity to slip his tongue in and your tongues fight for a moment. Hoseok wins easily and you’re so compliant for him. You’re so well behaved for him.

It’s another moment or two before you’re grinding against Hoseok’s thigh again. He’s sitting propped up against the headboard, hands gripping your waist as he watches you with hooded eyes. He’s got a pretty good idea of how you’re going to look riding him and he’s growing harder by the second. Your face is buried into his neck, your whispers washing over his skin. He loves it. He loves the way you can’t control yourself. Your hips seem to have a mind of their own and oh-

“Hoseok-!” You gasp and he can feel your cunt suddenly become even wetter.

“Did you just come?” He inquired darkly.

“H-Hobi...” you’re breathing heavily and even though one orgasm has just washed over you, your pussy is contracting and begging for more.

“You naughty little thing.” He tuts, “do it again, but this time,” he slips the stringy straps of your romper down, “let’s switch it up a little.

Hoseok is in nothing but his underwear this time and you are absolutely bare for him. Your back is arched and his lips are playing with your nipples. He occasionally nips, sending a jolt through you and your sleek folds are rubbing against his bare thigh. He’s flexing for you this time and every movement sends a wonderful burn through you. It’s not long before your second orgasm is washing over you.

“Fucking hell, you’re really riled up, aren’t you?”

“Y-yes...” you slump forwards into him, pressing sweet kisses to his neck. Your fingers are aimlessly running up and down his toned front. You like how hard his body is.

“Want me to give a little more help?” You nod and immediately, you’re flipped onto your back. Hoseok is hovering over you and his kisses are on your neck, your shoulders, your collarbones. Little purple blossoms are blooming on your skin and you’re moaning quietly at their creation. Hoseok’s hands are wandering your body. Hoseok can’t quite believe that this is actually happening right now. You’re tugging on his hair as he leaves wet kisses just above your breasts.

“Hoseok...” you sigh, and you’re not sure what you want him to do. You’re body is tingling with the aftermath of two orgasms in a short time, but you’re nowhere near done. Your body is on fire and you’re craving more and more. His tongue rubs down the centre of your body, and he doesn’t stop once he reaches your core. You’re dripping. The sheets below you are already getting damp and Hoseok is in awe at the way your already swollen cunt gleams with your juices. His mouth latches onto your clit and you roll your body up, back arching as a moan rips from your throat. Using one of his arms, Hoseok pins your stomach back down and gets to work.

His tongue is hot and laving over every part of you. His saliva is only adding to the mess you’ve made of yourself and it’s dripping down his chin, coating the tip of his nose. His eyes are swirling dark pools and he’s watching you. Your head is thrown back, mouth ajar but you’re not making much noise. Your chest is rising and falling pretty heavily and he loves the way it makes your tits look. Your hips, though... if you don’t start behaving, he’s going to have to do something. He’s already struggling because of how wet you are but you’re grinding into his face. You’re making it hard for him to catch a breath and fuck, if he wants to spend the rest of his life eating out your pussy, he’s going to need to survive the first time.

“Sweetheart, stop moving,” it’s not a request. It’s a warning. But his tongue feels so good against your throbbing cunt. The way he tugs with his teeth at your clit, or runs the whole tongue down your slit, of when he slides in for a moment, truly eating you out. Your fingers somehow slip into his hair and you’re determined to make him stay there. You want to come on his tongue, “[First],” he warns again and moved his hands so that they’re either side of your hips. He’s really holding you in place but somehow, you’re still able to overpower him.

A sound rebounds - his hand connecting with the skin of your ass that he currently has access to. A noise comes from your mouth and the sting of pain only eggs you on. Hoseok pulls away and sighs. You peer at him. There’s a string of your cum coming from his chin and his nose is glistening under the light. Fucking hell he looks so hot. His own chest is rising and falling. His mouth is open a little and a hint of a smirk play on his lips. But his eyes are dark and you’ve never been look at so intensely before. It’s the same kind of look he wears on stage when he’s worn out from a routine, when he’s still flawlessly keeping in character. He’s looking at you like that and your heart stops.

His fingers pull you towards him and you squeal. His flipping you over and with his left hand, he pins you to the bed. You can feel his legs straddling yours and he’s binding you down with his own body. You try to squirm but it earns a sharp slap to the centre of your ass. You mewl at the contact.

“I fucking,” slap, “told,” slap, “you,” slap, “not to,” slap, “move,” slap. Your ass is heating up and the pain is beginning to sear but it’s sending bolts of heat straight to your core. You can feel yourself dripping between your legs. Hoseok is mad. You don’t know why until, “when daddy tells you what to do, you do it.”

Oh. Jung Hoseok has a daddy kink. Well if you weren’t turned on before. You definitely are now.

“Come here.” His voice is dark and sultry. It’s dripping with authority. It sends a shiver down your spine. When you sit up, Hoseok has rid himself of his boxers and he’s leaning back again with his legs open. His cock is flat up against his stomach and you choke back a breath. He’s... fucking hell how is he going to fit? For a guy who’s so slim... His dick is long, around 6 inches give or take but his girth... he’s going to split you in half with that thing. You have to be honest, you genuinely didn’t think that Hoseok would have such a huge cock. Normally the size is proportionate to the rest of the body coughjacksoncough and you’ve unfortunately seen certain frat members’ to confirm that this is the case. But Hoseok seems to be an anomaly among all of those proportionate sized penises because he’s a slim guy and he’s fucking hung like a horse.

You already know what he’s expecting from you, and you crawl forwards. You take a better look from up close and you’re not even sure you can fit it in your mouth, never mind anywhere else. There are some thick veins that run up along the shaft and you wonder if they’re sensitive. The crevice at the tip of his dick is also leaking a little precum.

Hoseok’s hand runs through your hair. You peer up at him and shit he could come right now. You look so sweet with a little bit of nerves in your eyes, so close to his throbbing cock. He doesn’t remember feeling like this when other girls are about to suck him off but you are so pretty.

“Come on, pretty girl, don’t make me wait.” He breathes.

You didn’t realise just how much you liked sucking cock until you started sucking Hoseok off. His dick seems to have a one-way channel to his mouth because he’s a mess. He’s groaning and whining and his head is thrown back giving you a great look at his neck and jawline. His hair is slowly becoming more and more disheveled as he repeatedly rolls his head back. Your tongue works over his shaft as you take in as much as you can of him. Your jaw is aching pretty bad and his dick fills up the entirety of your mouth. He’s bucking up and hitting the back of your throat but somehow you don’t gag. He wants to ask why but he kind of doesn’t want to know. Hearing about another guy training you to be a cocksucking goddess would probably turn him off and he doesn’t want that.

His fingers are suddenly curling around the roots of your hair and he’s forcing you down more. You’re beginning to gag now as he starts to fill up your throat and you’re finding it hard to breathe.

“You can take it, you can take it,” he gasps and forced you down even more. A loud groan that he’s sure carries through the closed window and down to alert the others comes from his chest when you swallow around him and he knows he’s going to come if he doesn’t pull out right now. Another groan leaves his lips when he pulls your mouth off with a pop. There’s a string of saliva and your lips are swollen and bruised, “here.”

You move closer to him and he grips the base of your neck and some of your hair. He pulls you in to another kiss and forces his tongue into your mouth. He can taste himself on your lips and on your tongue but that doesn’t stop him from kissing you like it’s the only thing he knows how to do. He can get used to this.

“Come on, baby, are you gonna ride my cock?”

“Would you like me to?” You whisper and press a soft kiss to the shell of his ear, “daddy.” You add.

Now, Hoseok has had girls call him daddy before. He kind of loves it. He loves being in that powerful position, he loves having a sub to dominate. He loves being called daddy. But he doesn’t think he’s loved it anymore than this moment. The word falls from your tongue like it was the word you were born to speak and there’s this beautiful faux innocence in your voice masking (not fully) a filthy playfulness.

“Fuck, baby, come on,” his hands slip to your waist and you position yourself above him.

You know you should probably get a condom but you decide to ruin the moment instead.

“You clean?” You whisper and look at him, “I am.” You announce.

“Me too.” He whines. He needs you. Now.

You sink down on to him. You don’t need any lube. You’re dripping with arousal. The stretch causes a little bit of a burn but it’s nothing you can’t handle. Hoseok fills you up in a way you’ve never been before. You’re deliciously full. You can feel every tremor in his shaft. Hoseok can feel you throbbing around him. You’re squeezing so tight and he thinks he might black out from the pleasure. His fingers grip your waist and you still as he bottoms out by pushing the last little bit of his cock into you. Honeslty, you could stay like this forever - sitting on Hoseok’s cock. It fits you rather nicely. Slowly, you begin to move your hips. A stuttered gasp falls from your lips at the first movement. You don’t know how the fuck you’re going to keep this up bevause Hoseok’s dick feels like it’s made for your pussy.

Hoseok is just sitting there, biting his lip and begging himself not to come too soon. You’re so warm around him and you’re dripping on to his thighs a little. You slowly begin to move and Hoseok moans. You’re squeezing him tight and the friction causes a powerful wave of pleasure to course his body.

“Come on, Princess, don’t keep daddy waiting.”

And you really start to move. You decide you don’t want it slow tonight. You don’t want sensual or anywhere near romantic. No. You want it rough. You want to be unable to walk for weeks. You want Hoseok to rearrange your guts and fuck you into next year. Your hips are fast. Your fingers grip his shoulders as you ride him hard and good. His hands help keep the pace of your movements and you’re both being a little too loud.

Outside, Jimin is graciously taking money from Namjoon, Seokjin and Jungkook. Yoongi and Taehyung are waiting for their share of the money and something about “I told you they’d fuck while we were here” comes from Jimin’s smug little mouth. Your moans and Hoseok’s groans are filling the air and the boys are starting to wonder if you guys are going to stop anytime soon.

Your heart is thundering in your chest, your thighs are burning with you’re movements and your pusy is aching. Your legs are giving in and you stop your movements, panting. Your gleaming with sweat as is Hoseok.

“What’s the matter?” His hands are running over your body again.

“I can’t...” you pant, “I can’t come again... my legs hurt and-“

“-you’re going to come again. You’re going to come until daddy thinks that you’ve had enough.”

Hoseok grips your hips and holds you in place. Without warning, he’s rutting up into you and moans are rolling from your lips. He’s bouncing you on his cock, thrusting his hips up and meeting yours with every movement. He’s pulling out nearly all the way and them pounding back up into you.

You can’t help but cling onto him for dear life. Your body is going haywire with the pleasure. You’re numb all over. Hoseok is groaning and the sound of his thighs hitting yours, the wetness of your pussy around his cock, his balls slapping your ass every time he harshly bottoms out fills the room. Your legs hurt but Hoseok is holding you in place and he bites down as your nails dig into his shoulders.

There’s no need for his fingers on your clit because he moves a little beneath you and then his cock runs against your g-spot. You tense up and a cry comes from you. Hoseok doesn’t stop. In fact, he’s insistent on fucking into your g-spot now. Every harsh and fast thrust up into af least brushes against that sensitive spot and you can’t even feel your orgasm building until it’s upon you. You’re constricting around him, pussy gulping him in but Hoseok doesn’t stop to let you ride it out. No. He keeps going.

He’s grunting hard, the sound turning you on more and your orgasm is almost over but the pleasure is already heightening because of how hard he’s fucking you and how often he’s hitting your g-spot. Then it happens.

“hOSEOK!” He doesn’t even care that you didn’t call him daddy. He doesn’t care that your fingernails probably drew blood. He doesn’t care. Because you’ve just gushed an insane amount of liquid all over his cock and you clenched so hard even he moaned out loud. You just squirted for his cock.

He stop his movements and you fall into him. Your hand are slipping from his shoulders and you’re breathing heavily.

“Did you just...” he pants.

“Yeah...” you can hardly breath. Hoseok is still inside of you and you’re still throbbing but Hoseok hasn’t had his orgasm yet.

“All for my cock? You naughty thing.” He’s smirking. You can hear it in his voice.

You go to protest as he lifts you off of him but the sudden emptiness has you at a loss for words. Your cunt is hot and an absurd amount of your cum and juices begins to quite literally flow out of you. You go to protest as he repositions you so that you’re on your hands and knees but you can’t. You just can’t. You can’t think, your mind has gone blank. You’re a wreck.

Hoseok pushes back in without any warning and you bite your lip. It’s too much. Your stomach is clenching, as if refusing to give you anymore orgasms for the time being but Hoseok has other plans. He smacks your ass again as he begins to fuck you from behind. He loves the way your ass jiggles every time he slams back into you and he loves the way he can watch himself fuck into you like this. He laced his fingers through your hair and keeps hold of you as his pace quickens again. Your stomach is knotting. You can’t come again. You can’t.

“Hobi-“ you breathe but that’s all you can make out.

His fingers come lose from your hair and instead, he attaches them to your bundle of nerves. Oh no.

Your stomach is flipping and you’re squeezing around Hoseok so tight. He’s making every kind of noise you’ve heard him make before when you’ve overheard him bring girls home but now that he’s making them for you (and not to toot your own horn but he sounds like he’s enjoying this more), it’s so much hotter. Your fingers are gripping the sheets and you’re so loud now that the boys definitely know you’re being fucked.

Hoseok is fucking into you so hard. It’s almost an in humane pace in which he pulls out and fills you up and he’s rubbing hard, tough circles on your clit. He’s panting hard and his chest is beginning to hurt but he’s literally never felt this good in his entire life and if he doesn’t fill you up with his come, he’ll definitely die of a broken heart from the regret.

“Hoseok!” His name is like a mantra slipping from your lips and the coil bursts and you come again for him. This one kind of hurts and your eyes sting with tears but Hoseok continues you fuck you through until you’re squirting again and now your body is losing strength and-

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, [First]-!” He groans your name before an animalistic growl comes from deep within him. His pace stutters for a moment. His hot come spurts into you and his pace finally begins to slow until he’s not moving but he’s still inside of you. Your bodies are hot and weak and you almost collapse right there. He’s growing soft again. And he pulls out. He sits back, watching his cum slip from your pussy and he’s proud of himself. Your thighs are soaked with your come and your juices and so are Hoseok’s but neither of you care.

Gently, Hoseok brings you into him and you lie side by side for a quiet moment as you catch your breath. Your body is completely useless now. You look over at Hoseok after another minute passes and he’s rolled into his side, looking at you with a fond expression.

He’s never look at you like that before. He pulls you into a kiss. This one is soft and tender. Both of your lips are swollen and so you think that’s why Hoseok is being gentle with you now. His hands manuver you so that you’re lying on your side and he takes a look over you. Your body is still glistening with sweat, neck and chest littered in marks of his kisses, he peers over and sees bruises forming on your hips and waist and your ass is red raw. Oops.

“You’re so good.” He cooked, bringing you into him. You’re silent. Now that you’ve fucked Hosoek, you’re going to have to find new friends. No one has ever dicked you down that good and now your crush on him has grown again.

Hoseok worries when you don’t respond, but you do pull yourself closer into him. He wraps his arms around you and presses a chaste kiss to the top of your head. He thinks- no, he knows.

“[First],” you peer up at him and now he’s certain, “I love you.”

Your heart stops. Hoseok loves you? Jung Hoseok loves you?

“Don’t be ridiculous.” You whisper. His heart aches a little at your words. You don’t believe him?

“It’s the truth. I mean it.” He moves so that you’re locking eyes, “I know I said that this didn’t have to change anything but... Jesus [First], I don’t think I can live with that.”

“Hoseok,” you breathe, “what are you saying right now?”

“I’m saying, you dummy, that I want you to be mine. Because I love you.”

“I...” holy shit you’re going to cry. You’re actually going to cry. You’ve just fucked your crush of like two and half years and now he’s telling you that he loves you back! What kind of fanfiction is this? “I love you, too, Hoseok.”

He brings you in for another kiss.

~^*^~

“Why aren’t you sitting, [First]?” Taehyung asks innocently. He knows the answer. All six of them staring at you know the answer. Hoseok, sitting next to you, knows the answer.

“I, uh... I’m...”

“So red raw down there you can’t sit for a week?” Jungkook finishes the sentence for you and you immediately go crimson.

“You guys are loud~!” Jimin teases.

“Yeah, please don’t fuck while we are anywhere nearby again.” Seokjin huffs.

“Seriously though,” Jungkook begins, “if you ever get bored of Hoseok, [First], I am very okay with you coming to me instea-“ he’s cut off when Hoseok launches a banana at his head.

“Mine.” Hoseok nuzzles into your side.

“Disgusting.” Jimin turns his nose away.

“So was what they did last night.” Namjoon looks at you both with a glint of micheif in his eyes. You groan and turn into Hoseok, “ah look, an audio preview.”

“Oh fuck off will you?” Hoseok grumbles.

“I’ll fuck off with [Fir-“. That time it is an orange and Jungkook insists for the rest of the day that Hoseok gave him a concussion with fruit.

#bts #bts x reader #bts x you #bts smut #bangtan smut #jhope #jhope x reader #jhope x you #jhope smut #hoseok #hoseok x reader #hoseok x you #hoseok smut #hoseok x reader smut #jung hoseok #jung hoseok x reader #jung hoseok x you #jung hoseok smut #jung hoseok x reader smut

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peaches-of-1 · 4 years

Text

Peachtober | Day 12: Haybale

Settlement | Reader x Ranch Hand!Namjoon

A/N: I did my best not to add pronouns/gender specifics refering to the reader, so lemme know if I did by accident or missed any.

"So, we'll split up new volunteers with the regulars." The chubby older man in a blue plaid shirt said and read the list on his clipboard through thick glasses.

You were bummed that your best friend Rosé had been put with a different leader than you, but at least the cowboy you had been assigned to was cute.

His thighs seemed to fight against the faded blue denim of his jeans which led to a well crafted torso. And his smile charmed you in a millisecond, a flash of canyon like dimples and dazzling teeth.

Namjoon was his name, and he gave you a firm handshake as a greeting, along with a kind, "Thanks for coming to help out, Y/N."

"No problem."

Because a lot of people hadn't shown up, and the work was too much for just 2 people, Yoongi's group joined as well making for a total of five. It was September 25, and so the local farm was starting to set up it's annual Autumn Festival. Rosé was the one who had suggested it, and you had nothing better to do.

"Our jobs are pretty easy. It'll take a while, though. We have to take all the hay bales from the barn and make it into a maze for kids. The maze is already planned, but it includes a lot of lifting. Not too hard, right, Namjoon?" The dark haired man asked the honey haired leader. "Namjoon-ah?"

As your head turned to face the usual volunteer, you caught a glimpse of dark brown eyes looking downwards...at you? No, but who else could he have been looking at?

"Huh? Oh. Yeah, it's enough cardio for a week." He smiled as you felt heat rush into your cheeks. "Let's all drive over to the barn, and go from there."

The two other newbie volunteers hopped into the back, and you were about to join them when Yoongi called your name.

"Ride in the front with Joon. I'll explain to my crew." He held the door open.

"Ah, ok." Came your quiet reply.

The idea seemed sudden and kind of startled you, but you were glad not to be sat in the rough bed of the truck. As the engine growled to life, Namjoon reminded you to put on your seat belt. Then the wheels began to turn as you were driven forward.

"So, uh, how long have you been doing this?"

He smiled, grateful that you spoke first it seemed, "I actually work in the city, but one of my young friends, him and his family run the farm. They needed some extra help, so I started helping about 7 years now." Regret tinged his ears a red shade as he said, "Sorry. I tend to ramble."

"It's ok. I don't think you rambled too much." You gave him a genuine smile.

"Eyes on the road, Joon!" Yoongi called.

Once the first stack of hay bales were secured onto the truck, the darker haired man left with the other two. Namjoon and you were left alone to get the next stack ready for their return. His muscles rippled with every yank of heavy straw that you pushed towards him. No trace of the goofy and shy man you had rode with 15 minutes before.

"What made you join this year?" He drank a bottle of water he must've left here. "I recognized Rosé from last year. She looks good with pink hair."

You nodded and refused the bottle as you weren't thirsty...for water at least, "Yeah, I just wanted to do some work outside of my house and she signed me up for this."

"What's your usual job?"

"Oh, it's--OW" You pulled your leg back and saw a black spotted cat paw leading to your attacker.

"Wasabi! That's not how you treat guests!" He scolded the cat who now purred around his ankles. "She just had babies, so she's a bit protective. Sit."

You automatically dropped to sit on the block of hay you had let go. Namjoon went to a box on the wall with a red cross on it to get a small bag from it. He knelt in front of you.

"May I?"

You nodded and replied, "Mmhmm."

He lifted your foot to rest on his thigh and dabbed at the scratch with a wipe. You gave a sharp inhale, and he giggled.

"It's not even that deep."

"Still hurts." You pouted.

With a gentle rub, the too big bandaid covered the injury.

"I could sue you for this." You teased.

"If I kiss you, could we call it a proper settlement?" The question came out so smoothly you couldn't tell if he was serious.

Your eyes got wide. The sound of an approaching car pulled both of your attentions towards it. You quickly stepped back and Namjoon grinned at the ground.

"Sorry." He said before moving towards the door.

With a swift movement, he took up the straw you had dropped at Wasabi's scratch and you looked at the mama cat who meowed. It was if she was teasing you for not taking the chance. Yoongi came in to give her pets and asked where her babies were. She leapt down and took us to an old closet with a pile of discarded clothes inside on the floor.

"Awww, so cute! I want one~" The short red haired girl who was a part of Yoongi's group said, wanting to approach, but you put your arm in front of her as the mother hissed.

"We'll see." Yoongi replied and then spoke to Namjoon. "Just keep clear of them for now. We can make due with a few less bales."

"Gotcha. See you in a few."

The two quiet boys and the tiny red head left again.

"So, what do we do?"

"We'll kinda fence them in. Make sure no one else gets too close." He began to push a bale towards the area.

Following suit, a small barrier now separated Wasabi and crew from the rest of the barn. Looking around, most of the hay was on the second floor.

"You want me to go up there and toss 'em down?" You asked, spotting a ladder.

"Yeah. That's better than you catching 'em." He held the ladder sturdy, "Just be careful."

"If not, I'll just have to ask for more kisses." And up the ladder you went, not thinking too much of how cute his shocked expression was.

Several tons later, it was time for lunch. Namjoon helped you down off the ladder, letting his hands linger around your waist before blushing, "We should hurry before the corn gets cold."

Even though you had the option of leaving after the meal, you convinced your ride to stay until you were done with the maze. You went back to the barn, but volunteers had to leave at sunset. Namjoon didn't say much during the meal to you, but it was ok since you weren't a socialite anyways. Also, seeing how familiar he had been with the other regulars, the Farm family's son Tae, and his dog which now joined you, was nice.

"You really have been helping out for 7 years." The words left your lips before you could even think.

"Yeah. I know everyone pretty well. Enough to know that Tae's got a little crush on you." Namjoon wiped his forehead with the hem of his shirt, allowing you to see his glistening abs in the afternoon sun.

You couldn't help but bite your lip, "Is that so?"

"Yep." He met your gaze. "You interested?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you interested in being with the farmer's son?" The way he asked sounded like it was more than one question.

How many in total? You didn't know, but you did what you did best. Told the truth.

With a firm shake of your head, you sat on the edge of the loft, "No. I'm not interested in him. He's sweet and all, but I don't have eyes for him."

"...I see. Any hay left up there?"

You looked behind yourself, "None that's like all together. Hey, what's this?"

"What's what?" He looked up to see your ass filling out the overall shorts you had worn today.

"Come up here and take a look." You replied.

So Namjoon climbed up the ladder to come see what had caught your attention and was pulled forward to be on top of your own nervous but eager form.

"Now that we're here, are you gonna kiss me or not?"

"You're the one who got us here. Can't ya kiss me first?"

"I wanna make sure it's mutual. Anyways, I can only be so bold, Namjoon."

A cheeky chuckle left his lips as he settled on top of you, looking into your eyes as they closed and waited for the heat of his lips made contact with yours. There was no way either of you could stop now as you grabbed onto each other as if you'd disappear if you let go for even the slightest moment. His left hand was on your hip while his right snaked up to the latch of your overalls.

"Is it ok? Can I--"

"Go ahead." You replied breathlessly.

As shaking hands fumbled with each, you couldn't help but laugh and help him out. A grateful grin was given before making out ensued once more. Namjoon wanted this to last forever, but knew this time would have to be quick. Before Yoongi and the two volunteers came back. Still, he'd be remiss if he did not properly prepare you, so he slid two fingers inside of you. Without realizing, your hips rolled into his hand and a string of moans left your mouth. The grip you had on his forearm flexed.

He watched you through all of it, noticing your blushy reaction of looking away. However, Namjoon kissed your neck as the sweetest punishment. You squealed and bucked your hips as fingers spread your needy hole.

"Hurry." Came past your lips in a whine as the last thing you wanted was to be caught by the others in such a situation.

"Wait." Namjoon took his fingers out of you and reached into a spot in the corner.

There seemed to be a box that he looked through as you ground your hips onto nothing. Yet you needed to move just for any slight sensation. He mumbled to himself.

You pouted and called out his name, "Namjoooon~ Hurryyyyy~"

The large man turned around and revealed an unmistakable box of condoms and a small bottle of lube.

He smiled and then bit his lip at the sight of your disheveled form, "They're not expired."

"Then fuck me already!"

Namjoon's dick jumped at the desperate plea and quickly obliged, lubing you up and rolling the rubber on. You wanted it inside you so badly, but he waited.

"You look so pretty." Honest words reached your ears.

Your cheeks warmed even more at the compliment and you couldn't look at him, all the bravery from earlier all but gone.

Then he leaned over you, hands on either side of your head as he growled into your ear.

"You'd be prettier with my cock inside you, though." And thrust into you.

The scream of pleasure which came out of your throat surprised even you. And though you tried to cover your mouth, Namjoon pinned your hands down.

Between grunts, he uttered, "Don't. Don't hide from me. I wanna hear it all. Oh fuck. Please. Let me hear how badly you want this."

As his own moans trickled out, you looked at his furrowed brows and the new layer of sweat forming on both of you. You groaned and moaned out his name and loving words of support.

"You're so great, Namjoon. Oh, oh, oh my God. You're doing so well. Ahhhhh, more!"

"Yes! Yes! Oh Y/N. Oh fuck!" His curses were a whisper, contrasting how he screamed your name like a prayer.

"Namjoon, yes. Harder. Fuck, yes!" You felt him twitch inside of you and moved your hips upwards to meet his.

He whimpered and began to suck on your nipples, giving them tiny nibbles here and there. Namjoon's breathing became thick as he made love with you. He looked up at you, brown eyes dark and glittering in the golden hour of the world.

"Y/N, I can't--I'm gonna."

You held his face in your hands, "Cum for me."

He released as soon as the door opened, and you had to kiss him to muffle his scream of ecstasy.

"Namjoon? Y/N? Is this the last of it?" Yoongi asked.

Namjoon replied, "Yeah. If you can take it all on one go, that'd be great." in a voice that was clear for someone finishing up an orgasm and was still bucking inside of you.

You couldn't help but twitch, making him look down at you with your own hands muffling your own moans and eyes filled with tears. Right on the edge. You were right there, but you couldn't get there with the other man so close to catching on. The seconds passed by in the form of endless hours as Yoongi was quiet for no reason.

"So, you gonna go?" The thick chested man asked.

"Yeah. Alright, we'll start loading the truck. Wanna help out, Joonie?"

The man on top of you whispered, "Fuck." Before clearing his throat, "Nah. Kinda busy."

Yoongi's voice held a smile in it, "Oh, I see. I'll tell V you wanted to give the volunteer a tour." He then left.

You hid your face into Namjoon's shoulder. You wanted to cum so badly. The barn door closed and Namjoon began to pound into you after a sigh of relief. He was hard again. Did he like the idea of getting caught that much? It was a fleeting thought as the sound of a truck driving off allowed you to moan again. Your body convulsed as the ranch hand abused your g spot now that he found it. You gripped his arm, wrist, whatever you could hold onto as your orgasm finally reached its peak.

Heavy pants as Namjoon pulled out and lay next to you. He kissed your lips once more and you curled up into his side.

"That’s such a great settlement." You let an airy chuckle out.

Joon looked over at you, only able to laugh at your comment. The two of you decided to hurry and get dressed, and he walked you to the bus taking the last bit of city folk back. He called out your name before you went on, picking a piece of straw out of your hair and sticking it into his mouth.

“Come back soon.” He smiled so large that his dimples became a cavern.

#Reader x Namjoon #Namjoon x Reader #Kim Namjoon #RM #RM x Reader #Reader x RM #Peachtober2020 #female!reader #Male!reader #smut #lemon #nb!reader #enby!reader

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spnsmile · 4 years

Text

#SPNStayAtHome @helianthus21 @pray4jensen @bend-me-shape-me

3. Thief (Endverse! Violence!) Rated: E

[Where Castiel is stolen while Dean was dead and things go to hell]

**** tagged graphic violence******* @verobatto-angelxhunter go away xD

It’s Apocalypse like no other with Croatoan and Lucifer walking the earth.

Dean Winchester lived and died many times, he just didn’t think he’d come back again for a final chapter after Lucifer in Sam’s meat suit, killed him.

Yet here he is, like the many times Death rejected him on his doorstep, breathing and alive. He can remember everything. Finding Sam in the garden knowing it’s Lucifer? He and Lucifer standing off with that smug look on the devil's face.

About how he pleaded in the last seconds of his breath that the son of a bitch let go of his brother… but begging the devil, he knew the answer.

Lucifer played him well he ended up with several broken bones with feet on his neck. He still could feel the throbbing pain on his jaw, could still hear the crack of his spine when Lucifer mercilessly snaps his head. He knew it was the End and frankly, he didn’t care enough. He always knew Sam will kill him in the end.

Should’ve listened to John bout killin Sam from the beginning.

He wished he could but knew himself well enough he’d still come begging to save his brother. And it was with dawning regret that he finds himself back on his feet, in the same garden where Lucifer took his life. Still alive and kicking.

What conspiracy is happening among the gods that he, Dean Winchester should be granted eternal life? Is this what Cas meant by cursed resurrections? Though, in retrospect, Castiel was pretty drunk at the time having just broken an ankle.

So he is alive, Dean knows he can only move on, he always does. Fall on his knees, stand up the next second. There's no time for him to think, no time to lose. If Lucifer resurrected him, it means the bastard has another plan. He is not going to wait to find out.

Besides, there was someone he had to make sure was also alive. Clutching his hands, he paves the way back to his campsite. If anyone attacked him now and then, they would be mistaken to think he was not armed in any way.

And Dean Winchester was just itching to kill.

He trespasses grudgingly upon Chuck's shack after an hour of walking, his armored jeep gone from where he last left it.

He comes to the campsite with the man he is looking for not around. Growling when he finds the ex-prophet of the lord half asleep on his desk with bundles of dirty papers on his desks, Dean bangs his fist on the door board. It snaps Chuck awake and when he sees who it was, he nearly fell on his chair.

Dean watches him stumble up. He came back to the campsite just before dusk. Everything was silent, there, everything remains still and Castiel's fancy room empty. Worry filled him first, something he hadn't felt for a long time. But he didn't let it show. Instead, he crosses his arms. He wants to know what happened, wants to know who survived and who perished with a growing fear that he might be too late.

If he was too late, he can only blame himself...

Chuck stares at him, a little pale.

“Dean! Oh good! You’re- you're alive!"

"I know that," he growls, eyes darting to the windows and the door. He knows everyone can hear it. He can almost feel people stir in the camp upon Chuck's outburst.

"What happened to you?"

"Looks like Lucifer doesn't wanna give me a pass on an easy death. Snapped my neck, then returned me to life."

"What..." Chuck goes paler, "...that's... I dunno... are you okay?"

Dean arches an eyebrow. "I just came back to life. How do you think I'm feeling?" he raises both hands, indicating Chuck to hand him the water jug on the side table which the ex-prophet quickly hands over.

"I dunno... I've never been killed, really. You've been gone a month, Dean."

Dean's eyes bulge.

“A month!?” Dean exclaims coughing hard, sputtering water all over his front until Chuck sensibly took the water back. Jaw dripping, Dean glares around feeling dry and sore. Heat runs under his skin, coiling at the back of his neck, making his stomach turn. He glares at the shorter man for there's no other outlet.

“Where’s the idiot junkie?”

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, finally pinpointing the itch that’s been nagging at the back of his head. He was missing someone usually in the front lines. Someone who should’ve been here five minutes ago… unless… Dean bows his head, all energy draining from his body.

“Castiel? No… He’s not here anymore.”

Dean slowly fixes him a dark look. Whatever expression he was making caused Chuck to step backward, shaking his head.

“No, no he’s alive. I mean- he returned after the mission with Hector and Risa but she didn’t make it. Hector too… their wounds… Castiel brought their bodies back. Said he couldn't find you... we're not sure...but he healed after 3 days of isolation. We all thought you were dead everyone thought you were dead, Dean..."

"So where is he?" it's all in the past now, the most important question had to be answered now. Dean knits his brows. Did Cas run away?

Chuck swallows hard. "Well, you know how this camp wouldn't be as strongly protected without you and your captains? I mean, I can barely handle a gun, and Cas is just... too devastated, Dean. He... we thought he gonna die in those three days. He had a fever, even delusions of seeing his brothers, you know? The final stage was the third day, we thought he was gonna die. Then he said something about an angel healing him and he's just up and about again."

Dean takes a threatening step forward, eyes glinting darkly. "Cas. Now, Chuck."

Chuck shrinks back, suddenly realizing he was about to create another apocalypse by doing so. "We couldn't fight okay? So after two weeks, other militant groups began attacking us, we barely survived. Until Boris and his group came and offered this place protection..."

"Boris?" Dean's nose flairs, remembering the war-machine leader of the East faction. A tall man with sharp dark eyes that just dances of evil. Dean is disgusted with the guy. For all everyone knows, the guy turns anyone and every one his group captures into his slaves. A living human devil. But then-- "What does he want with Cas?"

"Well, Cas was the acting leader at the time. He and Boris made a deal in his quarters and uh...." Chuck bows his head. "He went with Boris."

“What?” Dean's voice is low, barely audible. “Why would he go with Boris?”

Chuck hesitates. “Boris heard you died. He wanted to take over the camp. Castiel dealt with them and they had a private talk. There was a negotiation, then Castiel said he’d work with Boris… something about getting easy drugs on his side. Then he just left us.”

Dean stands taller, then without a word, left the shack.

"Dean! Where are you going?" Chuck calls behind him

"To get Cas, what else?" he storms off the camp, leaving those who have gone to surround the little hut gaping after him. But he didn't ask for anyone to come with him this time. No, if he was going to get Castiel, he was going to get him back on his own. He will burn the place down if he had to and he won't care. He sees his jeep and checks the content before hopping on. Everyone just knows what he was about to do and for their own sake, did not get on his way. If there was one thing generally known about him, it's the fact that you never wanted Dean Winchester on your back.

Suffice to say, Dean means to make true of that. He knows what to expect when he gets there. Knows Cas... fuck... Cas... gripping the rubber wheels, Dean revs the car and went on his solo mission.

Everyone knows the man will be leaving blood trails behind him when he is done.

No one steals from Dean Winchester.

It did not take long for him to get the audience he wanted. Boris' group camps in the military barracks on the Eastside. A pretty good hunting ground and location for its formidable walls. He drives in, uncaring of the blaring sound his vehicle is making. He maneuvers his jeep at the center of all tall buildings and leaves the headlights on before jumping down. He makes sure he is visible, can be seen through the gaping windows. For a second there's only silence. That was only for a moment.

When they realized it's Dean Winchester's shadow peace is triggered and like ants, a swarm of feet and sounds of clicking the metal gun fills the air. Dozens of men surround Dean at once, a beacon is lit- Dean Winchester glares around with only one thing in mind.

Kill Boris.

It wasn't even negotiable.

"WHERE'S YOUR CAPTAIN!"

Like he knows he was summoned, Boris comes trudging in from the corner wearing nothing but his pants. Dean's eyes bore on him darkly.

"W-Winchester?" the man says in disbelief, and yes, he fucking knows his fate even when his face remains expressionless. The way his eyes take in Dean Winchester is guarded and wary. "B-but you're dead. Someone saw you died by Lucifer's hand!"

"Sure did," Dean said. "Devil tried to kill me. But c'mon. Do you really think it would kick? I'm a Winchester, you dead man. You better return what you stole from me, you thief."

Boris startles a moment. He wets his lips, eyes widening a little.

"Listen, Winchester-- you don't-- he came to me on his own! Threw himself to me, that whore-- he's addicted and you know that! He can't live without me! You--" his voice falters because Dean slowly inches on him, all features of humanity's cover gone. Leaving behind a cold front of a man ready for a mass kill.

"Where is he?"

The men around him carrying loaded firearm took steps back when he glares from left to right. And Dean knows he no longer looks at them the same way. He knows when his primal instinct kicks in. Can control it after years of experience fighting off demons and other foul creatures. All it takes is for him to really show intent and he did.

There was a gasp. Dean's eyes dilate when he sees him finally. Castiel comes out from the building where Boris had come from wearing a ragged shirt torn in many places. Dean stiffens. Castiel is looking at him open-mouthed, uncaring of his own disheveled form, bruised and limping body. All Castiel can do is look at Dean, blue eyes reflecting the man's appearance wide and full of disbelief.

Dean does the same, except when he looks around him, all he sees is red. Then Boris, the stupid idiot, glances at Castiel and grabs him by the neck, shouting to whoever was listening to why they let Castiel out. Someone said Cas killed his guards.

"That's impossible, I drugged him to stop fighting!" Boris hisses.

That triggered Dean senseless. He takes out his gun.

Boris throws him a look, before dragging Castiel behind him by the collar, shielding him from Dean. No bargaining for the man too. The look in his face, his hunger, his thirst- Dean can see everything. This man was not going to give Cas willingly.

This man has decided Cas is his.

Well, now. You thief.

That kind of gesture against something Dean owned. Unforgivable. Dean hasn't felt that desire to kill another human for a long time The desire to tear him from limb to limb. Skin him alive and listen to him scream while he burns him alive.

"KILL HIM!" Boris bellows, shoving Castiel inside the building as his men step forward pointing their gun with a wild look in their faces. But Dean only smiles hauntingly.

"Lucifer can't even kill me and he tried, man," Dean says.

He only needs that window of fear flickering in their eyes- before he murdered them all. Not all. The rest know it's not worth losing their lives over and so, l ook flight from the mass murderer. But Dean makes a different chase.

Boris was still dragging Castiel when Dean sharply throws the angel blade hidden on his vest straight to the man's skull. He is dead before he touches the floor. Dean still feeling full and unsated, goes to chop Boris' hands-off before gutting him with his knives. He doesn't stop till the blood is all over him. He doesn't want to.

When finally he is done, he pulls up, throwing the corpse on the ground, Dean surveys him with his darkest look, green eyes glinting in the dark.

“Whoever steals my man shall be put to death and the defender is not guilty of bloodshed. Read Exodus, fucktard."

Blood runs on the floor.

He takes deep breathes before looking around. He finds Castiel leaning on the wall, heaving deep breathes, his blue eyes glassy but wide.

Dean looks away. Takes a moment to compose himself so Castiel didn't have to see that face. Cas always told him how he hates it when Dean dons his 'fearless captain' face. Always teases him about it when they are on the bed. He always uses it to call him when Dean is particularly being unreasonable.

He calms himself. Cas is under the influence. Dean is also bloody. He doesn't know how much torture and abuse Cas had to deal with for a month. Don't know the damage and didn't want to scare him. Didn't want to expect warm hands at once when Cas has been out of his head for two weeks.

Dean didn't look at him. Didn't wanna show him how scared he is too. But he begins by loosening his grip on the bloody knives, takes a deep breath, but it still took a while to release all the tension in his body.

Too stiff to turn, he lets himself stand straight and close his eyes with the deepest sigh. He can smell blood on his skin mixed with his sweat. He knows he has injuries too but didn't care. The pain burned his body. He swallows.

So he is really alive.

Just... Cas... Dean grits his teeth. No. It's not enough. He gotta kill them. Now. He makes to run after the shadows he can still see fleeing deep inside the other buildings. Oh, he needs to end them too.

Except something heavy threw itself behind him. Dean nearly turns around to murder whoever was attacking him from behind-- except the body remained limp with haggard breathing.

"D-Dean?"

Dean freezes. He turns. He catches the unsteady body in his arms too light and thin. Fuck. He meets Castiel's glassy eyes. Blue eyes recognizing him despite the haze of all the drugs in the system. The idiot who can barely stand on his feet. The idiot who fought back against his captors when he hears of a Winchester causing distress outside.

"Hey, Cas."

Blue eyes swim in tears and it's beyond recognition when Castiel's mouth just buries on his lips. Dean returns the kiss sharply, his calloused hands running and digging at that loose threads of Castiel's makeshift shirt. They just kissed like it's the last thing they will do. Even when Castiel was sinking on his feet, they don't let go. Dean gathers him on his arms and lets his lips savage the swollen red lips until it forgets everything it has gone through. Dean knows it will be hard for Cas, but he makes sure he clasps the man closer, letting him know he is really there.

They kissed soundly, kissed passionately tasting wretched blood on each other's lips but Dean didn't stop at the prospect of pain. They have to deal with the pain later. They have to deal with a lot of pain after.

Dean sweeps Castiel on his arms while the man flings his thin arms around his neck, burying his nose on Dean's neck and sobbing his heart out.

Dean calms. He fucking calms when he secured Castiel in his arms, and fuck anyone who will make him let go.

He carries Castiel to the passenger side of the jeep, now wrapped in Dean's dirty jacket, but Cas looks warm and calm. He is asleep and Dean curses the drugs. His Cas always knows the dosage to be just between what he can manage.

Dean tucks him in carefully before looking back at the burning building. He doesn't regret that. Doesn't regret coming back to life if it means saving Cas.

Leaving the fire behind him with only twilight as his witness, he drove Castiel back in the camp feeling more like himself than the past five years. Something about him snapped that night and it's not his sanity. Whoever was still sane until now, he'd like to meet them, really. But the hole left by his brother came to a sudden conclusion when Lucifer killed him. Now he's back-- something changed.

He gasps when he feels cold hand cover his own on the gearshift. He looks down and sees Castiel's hands curling on his, entwining their hands. Dean looks up at Castiel and sees the angel staring at him with such unblinking fixation. Dean lets him. He pulls both their hands and tugs it up to his lips. He sees color rise from Castiel's cheeks, his gleaming blue eyes finding that spirit to smile, crinkling on the corners when Dean lets his mouth linger on the bruised skin

And he thinks they will be okay again. Not soon. But they will be.

He drives the car to speed limit wanting to have Castiel look over at once. They never let go, their hands remain intertwined. Castiel would tighten his grip from time to time, only to get Dean looking at him. Dean thinks it's something about their eyes connecting. Maybe Castiel also just wants him to look. He does. Every time. Doesn't care if the jeep crashes, Castiel wants him to look. He does every turn.

And when he brings Dean to Castiel's original quarters with Chuck and the others helping out with medication and clean water on the old bathtub, Dean still didn't let go.

Castiel doesn't show any sign of wanting to let go either even when his eyes were drooping down.

He doesn't speak. He just stares at Dean. Quiet, contemplative, letting it sink in. Dean let's him. What Dean is most thankful for is how Cas's eyes are not dead but just... Cas. Not full of life but it wasn't dull too.

It's just Cas with the sleeping thunderbolt behind his eyes.

They don't let go, Cas made it clear when he tugs Dean down the bathtub that he didn't want to release his hand. Dean have no objection to that. Chuck and the others were just glad to have Cas back.

So Dean sits at the bottom of the hot bathtub, feeling all the soreness of his body sting like fire. But he endures with Castiel lying on top of him, fast asleep and uncaring of his naked form on top of Dean's whose hands endless caress Castiel's curves soothingly. Castiel rests with his nose on the crook of Dean's neck, other hand wrapped around Dean's neck, bruised and all.

Their hands are still entwined.

There's no future where Dean thinks he will let go.

He kisses Cas's forehead earning him a little snuggle, so he pulls Castiel's body closer. There's still time before dawn, he thinks. There's still time for him to do whatever it is that must be done. There's still time for him to close his eyes and enjoy the warm body of someone so important. He may not know what lies ahead after the twisted turn of events in this broken world, but he knows one thing, he's not letting go of Castiel or put him in any harm.

Never again.Never again.

AO3 @verobatto-angelxhunter @skeletonsinzeeclost @epple-benene

#SPNStayAtHome #endverse!cas #endverse!dean #endverse!cas x endverse!dean #endverse #is life #destiel

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feverinfeveroutfic · 3 years

Text

chapter eleven: art whores

After they had had their cups of coffee, and Sam took the honor of checking out of the hotel for herself, she stayed in the passenger seat next to Dan with her shirt off the whole hour long drive up to Boston. He had rolled up his otherwise short sleeves up to his shoulders, and showed off his muscular arms all the while; he also had borrowed a little rubber band from inside of the glove box; his mirrored sunglasses reflected the early morning sunlight the whole entire way up the freeway. Every so often, she took a glimpse behind her to Joey, who had propped his hair over the back of the seat so it would be up off of his neck. He squinted his brown eyes against the amber sunlight and he bowed his head a little bit from the intense glow over the continual skyline of small towns to the right.

“We're gonna swing by another hotel to pick up Frankie,” Dan finally said at one point over the roar of the freeway

“Sounds good!” Sam declared as she gave her dark hair a slight toss back.

They took the next exit off of the freeway into a part of town near the Massachusetts state line: there was in fact a little hotel there and Frank stood under the exposed stone stairwell with his lush dark hair sprawled over his shoulders like the floppy ears of a dog and his mirrored sunglasses upon his face; Sam thought about Joey's old apartment at the very sight of him. He nodded at them and showed her a grin once they rolled up to the parking spot before him.

“Hey, all o' youses,” he greeted them; Joey slid to the seat right behind Dan, and Frank climbed in next to him.

“I like this look, by the way,” he said to Sam.

“I got hot last night,” she explained with a shrug.

Joey muttered something to Frank, which brought a little chuckle out of him.

“What's goin' on back there?” Dan demanded.

“Fuhget about it,” Frank said with a wave of his hand, and he buckled into the other passenger seat.

They rolled out of that spot and doubled back to the freeway for the rest of the way up to Boston.

Sam thought about what Zelda and Belinda had said the night after Cliff died, and she knew she was doing them justice by being in that car with those three men. She was headed for yet another brand new place that she never really knew about before and had only dreamed of in the past. She knew she would have to put her shirt back on at some point, but the feeling the cool coastal breeze on her chest and belly was something she hadn't done before, not even back home in California.

Within time, the skyline emerged under the amber sunlight: Sam spotted a large Cisco sign off in the distance. It seemed like the kind of place that had only cobblestones for streets and had horse carriages all around. When she peered out the window and beyond the freeway, she spotted a few alleyways down below that did in fact have those old earthy faded cobblestones all underneath the lush green oak trees. She wondered if it really was how she believed it to be once Dan took the next exit for the venue, a long low dark building called the Paradise Rock Club, nestled down in the heart of downtown about a block from the freeway: if she didn't know better, Sam swore it was movie theater, especially since the black sign over the front doors read ANTHRAX, TESTAMENT, and special guests THE CHERRY SUICIDES in large white lettering.

“This is also the very first time we're touring here, too,” Dan explained as he rounded the corner to the back alleyway.

“What better way to celebrate than for a couple of dates,” she exclaimed.

“Right?” Joey laughed.

“I guess this place is literally right by the college,” Dan continued, “so we might be seein' a lot of people of your caliber tonight.”

“I hope so,” said Sam. They rolled up to the pale white back door, which hung slightly ajar for them. Once Dan killed the engine, Sam put her top back on and fixed her hair before she climbed out with them. They were alone there, but Frank rounded the back side of the car and joined up with her.

“Can I tell you something?” he started in a soft voice. “This has just been—eating at me for a while now.”

Dan held the door for them, and she and Frank stepped into the cool, dimly lit back hallway first. Joey sauntered past them towards their dressing room, and then Dan followed suit.

“Hey, Joe—wait up—” he called after him, and that left Sam and Frank alone; he took off his sunglasses and tucked them into his shirt collar, and then he ran a hand over his smooth crown of lush dark hair.

“What's up?” she asked him.

“Really hope you don’t get mistaken for a groupie,” he admitted in a soft voice.

She frowned at that. “Why’s that?”

“Because groupies are often seen as whores or just women who sleep around with the band. I don’t want my best friend to be seen like that.”

“They won’t know that, though,” she said, albeit with a nervous feeling in her stomach.

“But that’s always the assumption, though,” Frank insisted. “You can’t stop people from assuming shit about you, even when you know in your heart that it’s not true. Not saying I don’t want you around—not at all. I love the fact you’re going to be with us for most of the summer. But what I am telling you is what you’re about to see when you come along with us more and more. And if you don’t believe me, let me show you what the people have been saying about your girls, the Cherry Suicides. Calling them the ‘n’ word, especially Morgan and Minerva; calling Rosita ‘fake’ because of her nails; calling Zelda a skinny bossy bitch. All kinds of nasty shit. We love and embrace our female fans, but most of our crowds don’t. How have they acted with you and Marla?”

“Like… we’re not even there,” she recalled.

“There you go then. Again, I’m not trying to be ‘that’ guy, but it’s just the truth. If only there was a way I could protect you from it, though.”

“You can always be like, 'hey! Quit pickin' on my friend!' or something like that,” she suggested, but he shrugged his shoulders.

“That's just a worry I've had,” he continued. “Y'know, I see how Joey looks at you, but I just wonder who else out there looks at you and not like that, either. Like you're fresh meat for the taking.” He then lifted his head to the hallway behind her, and she turned and followed his gaze.

“Even when there's duct tape on boots involved,” he said, that time in a louder voice.

Zelda walked up to the door right behind them with Chuck's boots latched onto her feet: the silver duct tape glistened under the low golden lights on the ceiling, still in place after Greg stuck it on with haste and after a few shows under her belt. She had slicked her black hair back with a handful of gel and wore nothing but a stained dark red sports bra and a pair of pearly white gym shorts. Her flat toned stomach already had a layer of sweat all over.

“If I was hot, I would dress like that, too,” said Sam, which brought a laugh out of both of them.

“Nah, I just put my head and body under a hose,” Zelda assured her; she pushed open the door and Sam realized that was the Cherry Suicides' dressing room. “You guys wanna come in?”

“Sure!” said Sam as she followed her inside.

“I gotta get to our room, but I'll poke my head in in a bit,” Frank promised her, and he kept on going to where Joey and Dan had run off to. Sam stood in the doorway for a second and she took in a whiff of the fresh incense in that little room. A vanity mirror stood on the left wall, as well as a small desk and a pair of accompanying chairs: Rosita's hats stood on a small rack on the wall opposite the door, and a long, shabby lumpy couch and a coffee table with a pitcher of water and a little wooden plate of smoldering incense right near the right wall. Zelda fixed her bra and she glanced down at the stains with a wrinkle to her nose.

“Does this thing make me look like I spilled ketchup all over myself?” she asked Sam.

“Sorta.”

“Damn it. It's supposed to be fake blood—I was gonna put some on my shorts once we get closer to show time, too. We're trying to hone in a more gory image for ourselves. You know, something to make people take us a bit more seriously. We have the songs, we just need the image. You thirsty? I'm dyin' of thirst—”

Zelda then reached for a stack of paper cups on the other side of the table and took two out, one for herself and one for Sam. She poured them both some of that icy water from the pitcher and then she raised it for a toast. They both drank it down in unison.

“Frankie was just telling me about groupies and all the nonsense you girls put up with,” Sam explained as she stepped inside more.

“Oh, yeah, we knew right away that was gonna happen with us,” Zelda pointed out as she poured herself a second cup. “We just demand more from the people who claim to support us.”

“I think it's a little harsh, though,” Sam confessed.

“Absolutely!” Zelda brought the cup to her mouth and guzzled it down. “Like I remember it kinda got to me at first, but I'm a Rhode Island chick who's not a rich snob. I look up to Wendy O. Williams, Lita Ford, and Bessie Smith, and also Peter Murphy, Henry Rollins, and Iggy Pop. I gotta be tougher than toenails, so it's part of the shit sandwich we eat. In fact—you heard this from me—that's a song Rose wrote just the other day. Called 'Shit Sandwich.'”

“Is it gonna be on your new album?” Sam chuckled. “We'll see.” Zelda poured herself a third helping of ice water and then she set the pitcher back down on the coffee table and took her seat on the couch. “We have to talk to Aurora some more, and then hopefully—it's the hope, anyways—we'll be knocking on Jonny Z's door soon.” She took a small sip from the cup and crossed her right leg over her left knee. “That's how Testament did it.”

“Do you guys have a manager at all?”

“Who, us? You're looking at her.” Zelda flashed her a wink, and then she stopped in her tracks, and a grin crossed her face. “Why? You wanna do our dirty deeds for us?”

“I'd have to do it plus school, though,” said Sam, to which Zelda shook her head.

“It's not hard—you just have to pick up the phone and shake hands with people. You gotta have a tough skin to do it, too—I mean, you saw us struggle.”

“Oh, yeah, definitely.” They fell into silence for a moment, and then Sam spoke again.

“How do you cope with it?”

“What, the struggle?” Zelda asked her once she took another sip.

“Yeah.”

“I usually like to poke fun at it. And the three of them do, too—like I said, Rosita wrote a song a few days ago about it called 'Shit Sandwich.' That's just our sense of humor: to be dark and bleak but not over the top with it. We make fun of the struggle because we're part of it.”

“You know, Aurora and I formed a bit of a duo called the 'art vixens'.”

“The art vixens?” Zelda smirked at that.

“Yeah, 'cause she thinks Joey has his eye on me and now she's married to Emile. We're like the vixens now.”

“It's funny, before the wedding, like back when you guys were shopping for dresses, I actually got to talking to Belinda and she told me she liked our name. And I was like, 'thank you, that's real cool of you.' 'Cause our name is very love it or hate it, you know?”

“Oh, yeah, definitely.”

“I told her it's akin to a woman stabbing herself in the chest, or a virgin sacrificing herself. And then she made a joke about cherries after that, and I started callin' her Miss Cherry 'cause of it.”

“So the cherries and the vixens,” Sam said.

“Together, we can be the 'art whores'!” Zelda declared.

“The art whores?” Sam burst out laughing.

“Yeah!” Zelda laughed along with her. “Yeah—you, me, Aurora, and Bel. You and Aurora are the vixens. Bel and I will be the cherries. The four of us collectively are the art whores.”

She drank down the rest from the cup, and then Sam helped herself to some more.

“I gotta get you to hang out with Testament more,” Zelda told her in a low voice.

“I partied with them over New Year's,” Sam recalled.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah, when they were preparing to record upstate. I got to join them all the way 'til midnight.”

“You gotta do it more, though. Even though Louie and I are broken up, they are literally the coolest dudes. Chuck and Eric are especially nice to Minerva and Morgan, mainly 'cause they're Hispanic boys and they're a couple of black girls, but they're our neighbors, though. I mean, Chuck lent me his boots for god's sake. And another case in point is Louie is still a really good friend to me. He'll call me once in a while and ask me how things are doing. He called me over Christmas and on my birthday. We just—can't really be a couple is all.” Her face fell a little bit upon saying that but she shrugged it off.

“Even Alex?” Sam asked her as she knitted her eyebrows together and took another sip of water.

“Alex is kinda standoffish—and skittish even—I mean, you saw the way he acted towards me when you ladies were shoppin' for dresses—but it's only because he's still breaking in his shoes. I mean, he graduated high school not even a year ago. Graduated and now he's on a lengthy tour with us and the five dicks from Manhattan—well, four of them are, anyways, unless Joey has another place that we don't know about. But he's a good kid, though, Sam. I promise you.” She paused for a second. “I think he's talked about you a little bit. I think—I haven't heard full conversations, but I have heard him mention you a bit before.”

“Who, Alex?”

“Yeah, he calls you 'Cliff's girl.' You know, 'cause you and Cliff were together. But like I said, I never really paid much attention to it so I only ever hear him mention you by the fact you're Cliff's girl.” And then the smirk returned to her face. “So Joey's been keeping his eye on you?”

“Yeah, but it's—platonic, though.”

Zelda squinted her eyes and she rested her elbow on top of the couch next to her.

“You sure? Because I swore that with Mr. Clemente when we first met, and then next I know, we're moving to a little place outside Narragansett together.”

“Wait a minute, how'd you guys work it out, though?”

“He quit Testament for a little bit, 'bout a year. Back when they were still referred to as Legacy and like right before you came into the picture. That was how we were able to work it out for as long as we did, but then he decided to come back because, you know—I was the one paying the rent.”

“So that explains why when they were about to record in that studio upstate, they had another drummer listed,” Sam recalled.

“Right! Right—Mike, I think was his name?” Zelda snapped her fingers twice. “Mike—Mike—something or other. I can't remember what it was now.”

“Ronchette?”

“Ronchette, yeah! Good pull with that.”

The distorted sounds of a guitar floated in from the hallway behind Sam.

“Speaking of Testament, I think that's them,” Zelda said with a nod of her head. “I hear them jammin' all the time. So I kinda know Eric's tone when I hear it.”

Indeed, Sam leaned back a bit but she couldn't see anything. She stood in the doorway and she spotted Eric, Alex, and Greg right down the hall upon stools.

“Little bit of Mercyful Fate,” Greg was saying as he plucked at his thick bass strings.

Alex leaned his back to the wall with the guitar cradled upon his lap. He kept his head bowed a bit so his bangs hid most of his eyes from view; his arms looked a little more toned and sinewy than before. His playing at such a quick and hard pace and in such a brief amount of time endowed him with much more strength. Sam tucked her hand into her pocket and she felt Cliff's pick inside of there. Maybe she was too hard on him, especially since that was how he saw her.

He lifted his head and fixed his hair, and then he gazed on at her with a grave look on his face. The corners of his mouth were turned a little bit so it looked as though he was smiling, but simultaneously wasn't, like that of the Mona Lisa. Those deep eyes seemed deeper than before; and the black hair dye was starting to fade off from his head: the plume of white over his forehead was trying to make its return, such that it looked rather ghostly over his head.

She thought about that evening in the Bay Area, where he and Greg dueled on the front porch. If only she could see that side to him again. But she had nothing to say to him. If only she could show Alex the Joey she had seen that morning. If only she could show him the other side to him, but she couldn't.

But then he bowed his head again and returned to the three man jam between him, Eric, and Greg, and she returned to Zelda, who had climbed to her feet and made her way across the room to the small fridge in the corner behind Rosita's hat rack. She took out a little fruit cup and then she gestured to one of the hats on the rack.

“D'you hear about this band called Guns 'N Roses?” she asked Sam.

“Yeah?” She vaguely recalled Eric talking about them in the few months before.

“They're awesome,” Zelda said with a twinkle in her eye. “I saw them last month here in Boston—they opened up for the Stones. Completely blew them off the stage. Their lead guitarist had on this big black top hat and afterwards, he chucked it out to the audience and I caught it.” She pointed at the black top hat on the part of the rack closest to her. “Gonna see if Rose wears it tonight.”

“Rose with a rose from Guns 'N Roses,” Sam joked, and Zelda laughed out loud at that.

The two of them hung out in the dressing room for a little while longer until Aurora bustled into the room in a white camisole and a laminated badge around her neck and a clipboard under her arm.

“I was just thinkin' about you,” Sam told her.

“I was, too,” Zelda joined in with a smirk on her face.

“I have some good news, some not so good news, and some bad news,” Aurora said, out of breath.

“Bad news first so it's out of the way,” Sam quipped, and Zelda nudged her for that.

“Okay, the bad news is the label is getting bought out, and Sam—” She fetched up a sigh. “I think you and I are gonna lose our jobs.”

“Oh, no!” Sam gasped.

“Oh, shit!” Zelda gasped with her, and they looked on at each other.

“I hope Marla finds a place to live in Hell's Kitchen because I don't wanna be stuck in the Bronx forever,” Sam confessed.

“No, you don't,” Zelda assured her. “I like the Bronx, but it's not really a place you wanna get stuck in.”

“What's the not so good news?” Sam asked Aurora.

“The not so good news is Emile is moving to Brooklyn.”

“So landlord's gonna be away from his building—sounds legitimate, though. I mean, it makes sense. You guys are newlyweds.” Sam shrugged.

“Now what's the good news?” Zelda chimed in.

“Good news is if all goes well tonight,” Aurora announced, “we just might see the Cherry Suicides en route to a legitimate record deal.”

“Things just have to go well, anyways,” Zelda said with a little wave of her hand. “So no tech problems, no drama, no nonsense, things like that.”

“Absolutely.”

Zelda glanced over at Sam, who raised an eyebrow at her.

“Think we can do it?” she wondered aloud.

“Hell yeah,” Sam told her with an extended hand, and Zelda gave her a low five. “You got those big boots with you. You can so do it.”

Within time, Minerva, Morgan, and Rosita showed up, and the latter set the black top hat upon her head to go with her black lace crop top and matching short skirt. She tucked the signature rose onto the base to make it distinctly her own. Meanwhile, Sam stayed in her spot on the couch next to Zelda and watched the three of them. Even though she wasn't properly asked to do so, just sitting there alone made her feel like a band manager.

She could hear the audience outside, and she wondered what the rest of the place looked like. She ambled across the floor and she stepped out to the hallway: next door was Charlie and Scott talking to each other about something in soft voices. The former nodded at her and his soft black curls fluttered a bit over the top of his head.

“Hey you,” he said to her.

“Li'l Sam I am,” Scott followed with a raise of those thick dark eyebrows. “What'chu doin'?”

“Oh, just hangin' out—I also wanna check out the rest of this place, too.”

“Not much here,” Charlie explained, “just a little bar and a stretch of floor enough for a thousand people.”

“A thousand?” She was stunned by that.

“That's nuthin',” Joey called from their dressing room.

“Yeah, that's nuthin',” Scott echoed him.

“I think that's something,” Sam pointed out, and that got a laugh out of him.

“It's general admission, too—so everyone's either gonna have a bunch of folding chairs or standing up,” Charlie said. He then gestured for Sam to follow him out of the hallway, and he led her to a stretch of curtain at the very end, past Testament's dressing room. She looked over her shoulder and she spotted Louie perched on a small barren shelf on the wall with his white gloves on and his drum sticks in hand. He gave her a little wave, and she returned the favor.

“Right over here,” Charlie gently coaxed her: he pushed the curtain back a little bit, and she gazed out to the small stretch of black stone floor before her, lit up with some yellow and red lights overhead. Indeed, there were a few folding chairs on the floor but everyone else congregated about the place. On the opposite wall stood a small bar with a small crowd around it to boot.

“Nothing to it,” she remarked.

“Nothing to it at all,” Charlie echoed, and he nodded to the left. “That's where we're gonna playing in a little bit.” She spotted the stage adjacent to them. It looked awfully small, but she trusted the three bands behind her. Once the sun hung low over Boston, one of the people at the bar came backstage to check in on the Cherry Suicides.

“We're opening act, so we were born ready,” Zelda told her as she flicked a little fake blood onto those white shorts.

Sam lingered back on the side of the stage a bit and she watched the four of them take to the center. Zelda mounted herself on the stool while Rosita slung her bass down low: she had written “las putas” over the bridge, and Sam eagerly nodded at that. The lights turned low and she realized how small that room truly was once it erupted in noise.

“Hello, Boston!” Minerva declared into the microphone. “We are the Cherry Suicides, straight outta Rhode Island, and we're here to make all of youses into soup! Hit it!”

They opened with that gory song that Sam recalled from that night in L'Amour. The one she and Cliff danced to. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back. She tried not to think of him, but she couldn't help it. She missed him right there.

There was a loud crack! and she jerked back a bit. She looked around a bit and she spotted a guy near the front had put a fire cracker right near Morgan and lit it off there. But another guy pushed him away and one of the stagehands dragged him out of there.

“Fucking hell, dude, did the room clear out!” Morgan shouted, and everyone laughed at that. Sam swayed a little bit and she shook her head as she tried to shake Cliff away. He was gone, there was nothing more she could do or say right then. But the feelings persisted, at least for the next two songs. The fourth one was “Day of the Dead”, where a true mosh pit finally opened up for them.

They were moshing for the girls. Sam nodded her head at them, but then a guy close to her threw a punch to someone next to him. There was another punch, followed by a third, and a fourth, and the next one after that had been inflicted onto a woman. Zelda stopped drumming right there and she stood to her feet as a brawl broke out before them: several men but a handful of women in there as well. Sam gaped at them and she took a step back.

Even from a distance and over the wall of noise, she made out Zelda saying, “this is bullshit.”

Then someone picked up a chair from the floor and chucked it towards the stage.

“Oh, no,” Sam muttered as another guy threw a chair at Rosita. She ducked and held onto the top hat but it tumbled onto the stage behind her.

“Oh, my god!” Sam yelled.

“Jesus!” Zelda shouted as she bowed out from her drum kit: she picked up her sticks and ducked into the darkness. There was nowhere to go right there, and so Sam lunged to help her. But then something pulled her back.

“What the—”

“Get away from there!” She recognized Alex's big voice right behind her. She turned to find him putting his other hand on her shoulder. He yanked on her other arm and then bowed his head a bit before another couple of chairs sailed right past her ear.

He saved her life, but she wanted to save Zelda from the exact same thing.

“Alex!” she shouted over the wall of noise. “ALEX!” He dragged her off stage and back into that corridor. She tried to force herself away from him but he was such a strong boy. He threw open the dressing room door and all but shoved her inside.

“Stay in here!” he commanded. “No—Samantha, stay in here! It's not safe!”

“What're you—”

But before she could say anything more, he shut the door and left. Fuming, she threw open the door and she poked her head out to the corridor. No one there and the whole wing of the theater was silent save for the out of control mosh pit out there.

She let out a low exasperated sigh. But she spotted Louie and Greg at the other end of the hallway, both of them with spooked looks on their faces.

“What the hell!” she cried out as they came within earshot.

“I know, right?” Greg said, out of breath. “Alex just ran outside to get help and Chuck and Eric both just ran across the street to call the cops—Eric told us to stay here.”

“Yeah, Alex got me off the stage—I was trying to help Zelda, but he got me off of there before I almost got hit in the head.”

“But, man, Zelda's gotta be pretty pissed right now,” Louie told her as he ran his fingers through his smooth dark hair. “I saw her runnin' and she looked furious.”

“I bet she is—Aurora said they were supposed to get a record deal after tonight.”

“Hope they can do it tomorrow night,” Greg confessed as he folded his arms over his chest. “Hope there is a tomorrow night. Those girls are tough but—damn, they don't need all that.”

“Zelda told me they make fun of the fact they get called whores, though,” Sam pointed out. “I say 'kudos' to be honest.”

“Right?” Louie chuckled; the noise on the far end of the hall and on other side of the curtain seemed to die down a bit, but it was all noise from a distance to them.

“You know, that's not a bad idea to run with,” Sam continued.

“What, making fun of what they call you?” Greg asked her with a little toss of his black hair.

“Yeah. Like she and I decided to call ourselves art whores because of it.”

“Buncha art whores,” Louie chuckled some more.

“You guys!” Eric called from the doorway down the hall. In the dim light, Sam saw him gesturing for them to come on closer. “Come on! Come on! The cops are coming!”

“Where are the girls?” Sam demanded.

“They're fine—they're right out here, but come on!”

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sea-side-scribbles · 3 years

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Fanfiction: Sympathy For A Downer

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22737214/chapters/77923952

Chapter 63

Arthur followed Nick into his bedroom where he fetched the press pass. “I knew I still have it!“ Arthur shook his head “You think they believe you’re a random reporter that accidentally looks like Nick Lightbearer?“ “Of course not!“, Nick replied, going for his drawer next. “I have some duller clothes for occasions like these.“ “But your face? You don’t have another face, do you?“ “No, but another mask. They won’t think it’s me without the mustache.“ Arthur let his shoulders sink in defeat. “Okay, fine. But do me a favor, leave the talking to me…“ Nick had turned around to change the mask and now began to change his clothes. “Whatever you want, King.“ Arthur sighed. Now, there goes nothing. He didn’t say how strange it was to see Nick like that. After all, he had other worries. He only hoped that Nick would see how insane the town was. Haworth Labs, where Joy was created, seemed to be a good place to learn. If they survived, that was.

Some time later, they crossed the wide bridge to approach the massive dark building of the Labs. It didn’t look like Verloc liked guests. In fact, Arthur was surprised it didn’t have cannons on the roof. “You still wanna go in there?“, he asked Nick who kept staring at it with wide eyes. “Why not?“, his lover unfortunately said. “I’ve never been in there. Aren’t you excited to see it from inside for once?“ “I’m rather excited about getting the fuck out of here.“ “Come on, Arthur, we can’t chicken out now! Sally is counting on us!“ Yeah, she’s waiting for us to do the job for her, Arthur thought bitterly. At the entrance, they showed their press passes, Nick much prouder than the actual reporter. “Dr. Verloc loves to be in the papers“, they were told by a friendly voice. “Come right in.“ “See, this is not so bad“, Nick said and strutted in. The long hallway was full of Bobbies that went on with their business, not interested in the two visitors. Another Bobby at a desk occurred to be the receptionist. “Where do you think you’re going?“, he snarled, looking up from some papers. “We’re not open to the general public! Bugger off!“ Nick looked at Arthur. „We’re here to interview Doctor Verloc“, Arthur told the man who’s attitude changed then. Still, he didn’t want to let them in. „You’re not saying something’s gone wrong“, Arthur said suspiciously. „Noo, of course not! Everything’s peachy!,“ the Bobby backed away. He rather reluctantly let them use the elevator to the lab and pretended it was only a protocol for their own safety, but Arthur had a bad feeling. “What crisis makes them lock down the entire factory?“, he whispered to Nick when they moved on. “I bet it’s only the usual safety-blahblah. The Avalon has the same protocols“, Nick waved him off. Arthur shook his head and wished Nick would pay more attention to subtle hints.

Finally, the elevator opened up again and they were greeted by lightning bolts shooting out of cables in the walls and dancing along the wooden panels. “A short circuit?“ Nick was confused. “Perhaps a worker is already on the way to repair this…“ “I hope you’re right“, Arthur replied. „Looks like the only floor accessible is the one for the employees…“ Before them lay a corridor that was protected by a sort of barrier. The sign “Employees only“ assured them that they weren’t welcome. “That’s probably a Joy detector…“, Nick however said and walked towards it. “Wait! What if…!“, Arthur began, but Nick already stepped behind the barrier. “You are not authorized!“, the alarm system went off. “Please clear the area immediately.“ Nick gave Arthur a startled look and froze. Arthur ran through the barrier and pulled Nick with him. Pressing themselves against a wall, they noticed that nothing followed. “Huh…it was just a warning…“, Nick huffed. “This isn’t a hostile place after all.“ Arthur helped Nick up. “I don’t think the workers will care much about our press passes though. After all, we’re not authorized.“ “We’ll see“, Nick said. “Oh, this is getting interesting.“ Behind the barrier, Arthur was glad to find a groom full of lockers. “I think it’s time for another makeover…“ He lifted up a worker’s suit. “Perfect!“, Nick approved. “We’ll blend right in!“ Nick showed Arthur something that hung from a locker. It was a gas mask. “What do you think they’d need these for?“ “I have no clue,“ Arthur admitted. “We should take them with us, too. They could be useful.“ Arthur searched the room for other useful things. Turning a corner, he stood in a larger shower room. Nick watched Arthur pick up a rubber duck and put it in his pocket. “What do you want with these?“ „They can be quite useful, too.“ “Yeah, when you have a bath“, Nick chuckled. “Trust me, they’ve saved my life more than once,“ he said and held out a duck to him. “Take one.“ “How can I say no to that?“, Nick said eyeing the duck. “How adorable! You think we can spare one for Sally?“ “I think she’d prefer the oil…“ “Yeah, right.“ “Sssh…, lower your voice a bit. And act natural. We’re just two workers on our usual shift.“

After proceeding through the decontamination system, the peaceful silence was immediately filled with the hissing and buzzing of electric bolts, open fire and bursting out steam. Workers were repairing the broken machines, or at least they tried to. A woman in a corner cried. Through a speaker, a voice snarled commands, probably ignoring the state of the lab. Arthur thought it was most likely Verloc himself. This was exactly what Arthur had expected, if not worse. “Wow!“, he heard Nick gasp. “This is how they make Joy?“ “Careful, Nick! Don’t touch anything,“ Arthur hissed. Nick walked towards someone. “Look, a fellow worker. Hello!“ Arthur jumped to his side, ready to fight. The worker didn’t look up to them when he said: “Did you hear, Foggy Jack got another one, better stay inside.“ Nick’s face fell and Arthur shoved him further. “At least he said Foggy Jack not Foggy Nick“, Nick said when he recovered. They continued to cross the lab while it broke down right before their eyes. “I wish I knew what they’re doing“, Nick kept swooning. “Do you think they could give us a tour?“ “I doubt it“, Arthur replied. “Please, Nick, act like you’ve seen this before.“

Nick silenced and have Arthur time to search for a way out. Soon, he found an open ventilation shaft and pointed at it. Nick only gave him a puzzled look, so Arthur quietly climbed a pile of boxes and into the shaft. Glancing back at Nick, the rockstar had wide excited eyes. “This is so thrilling!“, he bursted out when Arthur pulled him in. “Ssshh!“, Arthur hissed. „Remember we’re not supposed to be here!“ Nick contained his emotions as good as he could while they went on climbing and crawling through the labs.

Eventually, they reached a hallway that was flooded with water and electric bolts were dancing freely through it. All they had to cross the deadly lake were little islands of barrels here and there. “Okay, that’s it“, Arthur said with emphasis. “The way is blocked, we’re going back.“ “But Arthur, we can cross this“, Nick protested. “It’s too dangerous, you’re not used to this!“ “I learned from you, remember?“ Nick suddenly leaped over the water and landed safely on a barrel island. “Ta-daaa!“ Arthur had to press a hand against his chest. He was sure his heart had skipped a beat. “Wait for me“, he demanded and jumped after him. Nick awaited him with open arms. “See, we are a good team.“ They jumped from barrel to barrel. Arthur had to warn Nick about the steam that was escaping the pipes in the wall. It was also him who found the wheel to open the door to safety. “That was something else“, Nick huffed when his feet touched dry ground again. Where’s the fucking cod liver oil, Arthur thought.

They reached what looked like a large, unguarded area where they could move freely. The back of the room was covered in a weird pink gas. “Careful, this is Joy“, Arthur hissed with a hand on Nick’s shoulder. “Only Joy? I can handle that.“ Nick strutted forward. As soon as he dove his nose into the gas he started to giggle hysterically. Arthur held his breath, pulled him out and wrapped an arm around his mouth. With the giggling and winding rockstar, he stumbled into a smaller chamber and closed the door. There, Nick could make all the noise he wanted. “Nick, please, calm down…what sort of Joy was that?“ Looking around, another pink shimmer caught Arthur’s eye. It was a bottle of pink liquid that spread fume, but smelling it luckily didn’t mess up his mind yet. Next to it lay papers that announced this was the newest formula. “Oh god…“ Apparently, the actual plan was to create a permanent solution for the Joy problem, because supplies were running short. Their newest try made people happy but also insane. “Nick, are you alright?“ His lover breathed deeply to calm himself down. “Yeah, I guess, only a little dizzy…did you find something?“ “Only Verloc’s newest creeped out formula.“ He lifted up the bottle. Nick widened his eyes. “New Joy?“ “It’s not working. It turns you into a vegetable.“ “Then we better leave it here.“ Arthur looked at it. “I think I’ll keep this for now.“ “Ohh, exciting“, Nick smiled again. He leaned closer to sniff at the fumes, because in a split second it had smelled familiar. “No!“, Arthur yanked the bottle away. “What did I say? It’s dangerous!“ “Oh…“, Nick snapped out of it. “Sorry, I don’t know why I did that…“ Arthur stored the formula safely in the boiler suit. “Now, we have to use the gas masks.“ He showed his to Nick. “Make sure it sits tight.“ Nick gave the mask a suspicious look and then followed his lover’s advice. Arthur tried to stick a finger underneath it, to test how tight it was. “Well done“, he concluded and patted Nick’s cheek.

Walking though the gas, the found out that the area actually wasn’t unguarded. A worker in a white suit greeted them with a piercing look. “Oi, you two idiots! You have no business here! This is a restricted area for you!“ Arthur gestured to Nick to back away. Behind the area, they took off the masks. “What do we do now?“ “We have to sneak through,“ Arthur explained. “Stay right behind me. At their second try, they ducked behind the boxes and machines and crouched along. The worker was focused on doing his job again. Nick was amazed by how quickly Arthur oriented himself in the strange lab. To him, it was a labyrinth, even if a very interesting one. But Arthur knew where to go, and he moved quickly and soundless.

When that was over, Arthur had never been happier to see another Bobby in an office, even though this one told them Dr. Verloc didn’t want do be disturbed. There were enough good reasons to disturb him. “The brominating reaction has caught fire“, Arthur gasped, ripping off his mask. The Bobby in white uniform repeated the message to Verloc, who was rather annoyed about it. Arthur didn’t give up yet. “But some of the byproducts are poisonous!“ Of course Verloc dismissed him with an excuse. Arthur thought he needed another plan when the doctor realized something. “No one knows that“, he said. “They are imposters!“ He ordered the Constable to implement a curious safety protocol. “Aw! Yes, sir! That’s my favorite protocol!“, the Bobby replied almost cheerfully and stood up. Arthur saw Nick’s worried look when the atmosphere changed and the door behind them snapped shut. He wanted to tell him to run when suddenly the Bobby lifted up the massive desk and threw it at them. Arthur ducked down and lay flat on the ground. Shortly after, he heard the desk crash loudly behind him. Looking around, he found Nick lie on the floor too. He didn’t move.

“Nick!“, he yelled. Unfortunately, he had no time to help his lover because the constable was already on his way with something that looked like a blazing hot pipe. Arthur ran to get some distance, glad that he had brought the pliers from the locker room. Still, it didn’t look like the strongest weapon against the furious giant. He let his weapon clash against the Bobbies’ a few times. It didn’t occur to do much. He was thrown backwards by the sheer force this man put into his hits and then had to duck away again. The burning pipe hissed dangerously close behind his ear. From the bottom up, he kicked the Bobby into the stomach and used the time the man needed to recover to get up, ready to strike. A second after that, someone leaped at the Bobby, fixated his arms with his legs and pressed his own arms against the giant’s throat. Entangled like this, the Bobby winded. The blazing weapon swung close to Nick’s legs. Arthur jumped forward and let the pliers crash against the Bobbie’s forehead. He yelled and ripped his arms open, so that Nick lost his grip and fell on the ground. With an angry roar, the Bobby aimed for the helpless rockstar. “No, you won’t!�� Arthur leaped on his back now and pressed the air out of him. Nick struggled up and watched. The Bobby was still resisting and he still had his horrible weapon. Nick grabbed the hand that held the pipe and pushed it backwards, so that the burning end was pressed against his forehead. The Bobby yelled when his skin was fried and let the weapon go. It touched Nick’s arm and he jumped away with a shriek. The Bobby went dizzy and lost his strength. Arthur didn’t let go until he lay flat and stopped moving.

“Is it over?“ Nick asked. He had rolled up his sleeve to look at his wound. “For now“, Arthur gasped. “Oh, no…“, he said noticing the wound. “It’s not so bad…“, Nick assured him although it burned like hell. “Are you hurt, my hero?“ “I don’t think so,“ Arthur said flattered. “I got to say you don’t need a hero anymore. You’re really brave.“ “I’m doing my best to learn from you, King of the Parade.“ He pulled Arthur into a hug that the “King“ didn’t mind at all. “Why didn’t it work?“, Nick asked afterwards. “What didn’t work?“ “You know…“ Nick made a gesture as if he was choking someone from behind. “Well, you…maybe didn’t press hard enough. Or you didn’t find the right spot.“ Arthur hesitated, then he showed the move on the Constable’s unconscious body. Nick tried it too and Arthur adjusted his grip until it was perfect. “Like that. And don’t let go until it’s done.“ “I didn’t mean to, he threw me off“, Nick explained. “I know.“ Arthur kissed his cheek. “I’m so proud of you.“ Their lips met and Arthur as sorry that he had to let go and continue this journey.

He was sorry to find out that the Bobby’s office only led to an even bigger lab room that was filled with busy workers. While Nick followed him, he was thankful that the workers had other things to do than looking for intruders. However, when they ended up in the middle of the room, staring at a locked door, they seemed to be trapped. Nick was looking around for a way out, but Arthur poked his shoulder and pointed to the door. Nick was about to go there, but Arthur pulled him back. “Look“, he hissed from under the mask. His finger drew a line from the door to the right side of the lab. Finally, Nick noticed the black cables that ran from both sides of the door into the depth of the lab. He turned back to his lover and nodded. Then Arthur showed him a rubber duck. Nick lifted an eyebrow. Arthur waited for the right moment, then he tossed it in a corner far away. It landed with a little „quack“. Nick was delighted to see the workers run in the direction from where the noise came from. He and Arthur now hurried to follow the cable and were safe behind the machines again when the workers walked back to their places in confusion. Nick was overwhelmed by the console full of buttons and levers. Arthur decided to pull the biggest lever down and the cable started to glow green. He received a happy nudge from Nick.

Observing the area, Arthur found another way they could go without making noise. Nick followed, but soon pulled at his lover’s suit to make him turn around. Then he pointed at the worker that they seemed to go towards. Arthur gestured him to stay back. Nick was again amazed when Arthur suddenly shot up, pressed an arm against the man’s throat and let him slump on the ground. They crouched past the unconscious man as if nothing happened, and hid in the middle of the room again. Now Nick put out his rubber duck and showed it to Arthur, asking. Arthur seemed to think, then he confirmed. Nick decided for a spot and then let the duck fly. He was sure seeing the startled scientists run because of a little “quack“ was the funniest thing he ever saw. The cable led them to another console where Nick pulled the lever this time. Arthur crouched as close to the door as possible before he threw his second duck. It helped them to finally run through the door.

Arthur wasn’t happy to find brains in glasses in the next room. “The science of phrenology…Is this a joke?“, Nick asked. “No“, Arthur said firmly. Nick shook his head. “Why did Sally think the cod liver oil would be here? Unless it’s toxic or explosive I don’t think they’d need it here.“ “You’re starting to think. I like that.“

Finally meeting Verloc, Arthur confronted him with the sorry state of the lab and it’s workers. And the insanity of the permanent solution. Of course Verloc had a good explanation for all this. And he'd keep the oil too, great. Arthur lost his patience and pulled out the bottle with the pink liquid. “If I smash it and you breathe the fumes, will it make you happy for every and always?” He hadn't considered that Verloc's desk had a button that sent electric bolts into their direction. Paralyzed, they could only watch the doctor run into a popper and disappear. “Holy shit!”, Nick gasped when the shock was over. “Now, where's the fucking cod liver oil?”, Arthur shouted out loud. “At least he confirmed he had some”, Nick said looking around. “This is the cleanest office I’ve every seen…Arthur muttered. “I think he has a secret lair somewhere.“ “Oh“, Nick commented, „He’s a man of taste, I see.“ „Oh, look at that. A bright red button“, Arthur said after examining the bar next to the desk. “I wonder what it does.“ He pressed it and a wall opened. „That’s too easy“, Nick found. Arthur went in, eager to leave this crazy place. Nick followed slower, looking into every corner, searching for the ingredient.

Eventually, they found a chamber that had three cells. Nick was overwhelmed to find people in them. Arthur not so much, he had seen worse by now. The first prisoner was busy scribbling something at his wall and didn't notice the visitors. The second one stood at the glass wall and beat against it. “Oh, my”, Nick said quietly. “Are they patients?” Arthur's gaze wandered over the charts that described the 'progress' with each of theses people. “Test subjects would be the right term”, he concluded. “Test subjects...for Joy?” Arthur pressed a bright red button. It released gas into one of the chambers. “The King awakes! The King awakes! The King awakes!”, the first Wellie yelled, who's name according to the chart was Harry Plantagenet. “He thinks he's the rightful King of England”, Arthur explained and then made a noise that sounded like he had to contain his laughter. Nick was far away from laughing.

“Perhaps he had been crazy before and they're trying to heal him...”, he hoped to find an excuse. “And him? That's Harry Haworth himself.” Arthur pointed at the other Wellie. “What? Can't be! It's probably a coincidence.” Arthur pressed the button on his cell too and the gas made Haworth throw up. Actually, he didn't stop throwing up. “Oh, dear”, Nick whispered. “Gemma Olsen”, Arthur said as if he was meeting a good friend. “She got out.” “Who is she?” Nick eyed the shattered glass wall. “She was a fellow reporter. I was looking for her because she was investigating a conspiracy about the Joy's production.” “What conspiracy?” “Well, the permanent solution? The stuff we found in the lab?” Nick fell silent. “Let's move on.” Arthur found another side room that was filled with papers and other clobber. Sally's name on one of the letters caught Arthur's attention and he couldn't help but read them all.

Nick, however, had suddenly heard a noise. It sounded like someone called out for him. “Nick, you're my hero!”, a faint voice shouted. “Take me with you!” Nick walked along the chamber and pressed his ear against a wall. It was quiet, but definitely there, so there must be another room... Struck with the idea of finding the person who called out for him, he searched for one of the elements that Arthur had taught him to pay attention to. Soon, he found a cable that was connected to a button and pressed it. He was happy to see a wall slide open. Walking through it, he found more cells. And in one she was, cheering and knocking at the glass even though nobody was there. Nick saw that her brown hair was matted and also her green polka dotted dress had seen better days. When he knocked from the other side, she didn't care. The chart said her name was Deborah Pankhurst and she had hallucinations. Still, if she wanted Nick to safe her, he'd do all he could.

“I love you Nick, you're my hero!”, was nothing he could easily ignore. Also, he had to put an end to this madness. He searched the glass wall for hints, but there were none to find. Frustrated, he looked around. The next cell was open already, even though it had a chart. He couldn't believe his eyes when he read the name. “Jack Worthing? Why?” At the end of a long list of procedure descriptions he found the word 'released', so that explained why the cell was empty now. Nick still eyed it in disbelief. Did Uncle Jack really life in here? Maybe another coincidence? Nicknames for the patients? However, Nick went to a console he hoped to be useful. The mass of buttons and levers puzzled him. Who could even control all this? Nick's gaze fell on a row of buttons that fit the number of the cells, and one of them was already glowing green. Could still be the air conditioning, but he tried them all. With a slight hiss, the cells opened.

“The King is free! Death to the tyrant!”, he heard a maniac yell. Oh dear, someone was angry. He wouldn't attack Arthur, or would he? Nick ran back into the first chamber and almost crashed into his startled lover. “Nick, what have you done? The cells are open!” “Where's that Plantagenet?” “He ran upstairs, just like Haworth. I'm glad they're going for Verloc, not us.” “I'd like to see his face now”, Nick chuckled. Arthur had to laugh at that too. “I found the cod liver oil. Let's get the fuck out of here!” “Wait, I need to...” Nick ran off to see if Deborah was okay. She was standing in front of her cell, confused. “Hey, luv, you're alright?” He snapped a finger right before her eyes. She didn't blink but finally looked at him. “Nick?”, she asked, doubting. She had no idea who he was. “Yeah, I'm the Lightbearer, luv.” Her gaze wandered along his face. “But you have no beard...” “It's under the mask.” “Then take it off.” “Not yet. I have to hide my identity. I'm on a secret mission, you know?”, he whispered with a confidential wink. She lit up. “Oh, Nicky, I knew you would come!” She hugged him tightly just when Arthur came in. “What are you doing?” They let go of each other. “Debbie, this is Arthur, Arthur, this is Debbie.”, Nick cheerfully introduced them to each other. “Hello”, Deborah said just as cheerfully and waved. “Did Nick save you too?” “Debbie?” Arthur was upset. “I couldn't leave her in here”, Nick explained, begging for his empathy. “You said it needs to be stopped!” “That doesn't mean we have to make it our problem! We're only here for Sally!” “And we made it, didn't we? So let's get out!” Nick smiled widely. “Sure, what could go wrong?”, Arthur said desperately, looking at the quite disoriented fan girl.

They continued their journey and Arthur was not in a good mood. Firstly, he didn't like what he found out about Sally. That she had been such a big part of the Joy production and turning people into slaphappy vegetables. Reading her flirt with Verloc didn't help either. Secondly, he hated how that Debbie-person clung to Nick and Nick didn't even mind. Was he so dense not to see through her trick? Debbie made sure to tell her idol how afraid and helpless she was, so that he kept comforting her and helped her climb the ladders. He also didn't notice the craziness of this place anymore, because he was busy exchanging glances with his adoring fan. They went out through a room full of toxic waste and even dead people and he only made sure his fan girl didn't have to step into the puddles. What a hero! Arthur rolled his eyes.

Outside, Arthur couldn't take it no longer and sent the girl to sleep with a flash. “What was that for?” Nick complained, holding her, so she wouldn't slump down into the mud. “She's free now”, Arthur blurted out. “We did all we could for her! But if you want to stay with her, go on, don't let me stop you!” He proceeded to walk away. “Arthur, wait! Are you jealous?” Of her?” Nick followed him as quick as he could, carrying the fan in his arms. “No, I'm not jealous! I just can't stand you two any longer!” Arthur didn't look back. “I was only helping!”, Nick whined. “Yeah, you love to play the hero! First for Sally, now for her, who's next? Do you realize you didn't even get in without me?” “I know that, Arthur! I didn't mean to steal all the glory from you, but you didn't talk to Debbie at all! You acted as if she wasn't there!” “Debbie”, Arthur spat. “You already like her, don't you?” “No, it's not that I like her, I'm only being nice!” “Stop being nice, then!” Nick gasped. “Arthur, why is it that you don't want to help anyone?” “Because it's always....almost killing me!” Arthur stopped. “Think about what we did! We've been almost electrocuted, poisoned, burned to death or locked up in a cell, all for this!” He held out the bottle with the oil. “And her.” He pointed at the fan girl. “How did you know she wouldn't attack you?” Nick made an innocent face. “Because I'm her idol?” “You don't even look like yourself! You were lucky she believed you!” Nick fell silent. “Do I know how worried I was all the time? I could have lost you forever, to a fucking Sally whim!” Arthur radiated anger. And disappointment. Nick now looked very meek. “Can we put her down somewhere safe?”, he asked. “Please?”

They put Deborah on a bench in the park and made her look like she was taking a nap. Nick insisted on gathering a handful of Joy pills from a mood booth and place it next to her. Arthur assured Nick she still had her home, after all he still had his despite being a Downer, and the neighbours wouldn't remember. “Now let's give the oil to Sally, she'll be happy to see us!”, Nick tried to cheer Arthur up. Arthur took out the bottle and eyed it. Then he gave it to Nick. “Here, take it. Give it to Sally.” Nick's face fell. “You're not coming with me?” Arthur shook his head. “After all I found out about her in the lab, I don't know what I'd say to her.” He sounded gloomy. “Go. It was your idea after all.” Nick sadly watched him leave with slouched shoulders.

#we happy few #whf #wehappyfew #nick lightbearer #nicklightbearer #whf nick #whfnick #arthur hastings we happy few #whfarthurhastings #nickxarthur #whfarthur #whf arthur

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nimarkiva-stuff · 4 years

Text

Fan-art Writing

So, I absolutely love one of @blasticheart‘s characters, a Pokemon Trainer OC, and really wanted to have him meet the Trainer OC version of myself that I do for @nimarkiva-the-pokemon-trainer.

.....except it’s pretty violent based on the premise of his character, so I can’t really post it on that blog, I know full well there are a lot of kids who visit that one.

Oh, right, I have an art blog, too. Deeeerp. So, fan-art for @blasticheart beneath the cut. There is violence, and it is Pokemon themed. Not for kids. Murder mention and attempt.

It was late on a lazy Friday afternoon, and Dit was looking forward to a challenge. He hoped there would be a good battle today since no one had contested him yet. He bounced a pokéball in his hand, grinning as he thought of what might come if he was patient. Hopefully it was a Pokémon battle that he could win. If not win, at least enjoy. He loved a good fight.

His gaze swept across the park at the edge of the woods, lingering on a particular trainer who was out with her Pokémon. The tattooed woman was leaning on a cane and had a Haunter with her, as well as a Lucario. Now that was a fight! The trainer looked fairly unassuming. She had shoulder-length gingery hair that was bleached blond at the tips, and looked to be in her late twenties or early thirties. She was dressed fairly nondescript- t-shirt, jeans, and hiking boots. The wooden cane in her right hand was clearly for the pronounced limp she walked with. The human stood at about five feet and ten inches, rather tall, but at the same time a bit stooped because of how she leaned on the cane. The stocky human had a large tattoo of a purple Sharpedo and plumeria blossoms on her right arm, visible because of her short sleeves. Her glasses were simple, black rectangular frames that suited her.

The trainer didn’t look like much. She honestly could have passed for any adult woman on the street. But he of all people knew how looks could be deceiving, didn’t he? And she did have a Lucario with her, not to mention a fairly large Haunter who looked like he could give anyone a run for their money. The Ditto looked at his reflection on the shiny pokéball in his hand. She’d be a challenge- and depending on what she had in her pokéballs, it was a match which could genuinely go in favor of either of them.

He decided it was worth a shot. Win or lose- though he hoped win- it promised to be fun. Dit made his way to where she was playing with the Lucario. The trainer would toss a ball, and the Lucario would deflect it back to her with a shield of Aura energy, angling it to make sure she could catch the bouncy rubber sphere each time. It was both a game and a practice in precision. Dit could definitely appreciate training like that.

“Yo, Nim, heads up!” the Haunter told his trainer when the young man came over.

Dit paused for a moment. Another Pokémon who could speak in a human language? Well, now that was something. He gave the woman and her Pokémon a toothy grin when she focused on him. “You wanna have a Pokémon battle?” he asked eagerly.

Nim blinked, looking a bit surprised. The Lucario beside her looked up at the trainer, then back at Dit. He wasn’t so sure about this one. Not because he was afraid of a fight, but more because something was…off. And it was going to drive Lucas nuts until he figured out what it was. Something in that smile, and the look in his eyes.

“Can’t really see a reason to refuse,” the woman said with a shrug. “Three on three, or six against six?”

The tall trainer waved her question off. “Nah, five on five,” he said with that same toothy grin.

Nim raised one eyebrow. Odd, but she’d go with it. “Sure,” she said. “Not going to lie, I’m going to bring out some of the big guns- there’s a space in the woods which is a lot better for that kind of battle, got a concrete wall and is away from people. That work for you?”

Dit rubbed his hands together. Oh, that worked, he had some big guns of his own. “Bring it on,” he told her with a smirk.

Lucas decided he definitely did not like that smile.

“I’m Dit. So what do you do?” Dit asked as they hiked to the location of the practice arena.

“I’m Nim, a teacher, and I run a Pokémon rehabilitation house for those who have gotten injured or abused,” Nim explained. “You?”

“I battle,” he said with that same creepy grin. “A rehab house? Sounds cool.”

That actually was true. He did like the idea of that sort of place, since he knew how many needed it. The Ditto could also see how she cared for those who were with her. Each of the Pokémon at her side showed all the signs of being loyal as well as happy to be with the human. Good health, too, the Lucario’s fur was sleek and well-groomed while the Haunter was particularly solid, instead of being more wispy like an unhealthy ghost type tended to look.

The area Nim had in mind for their battle was a small arena, sunken a few feet into the ground with a concrete wall holding the dirt back. When they had reached the spot, well away from bystanders who might not want to be hit by stray attacks, Nim pulled a pokéball out of her pocket.

Dit whistled when she summoned a Necrozma. That was unexpected. He watched as she crooned over the big Pokémon, stroking its arm and whispering that it was a good boy. The Necrozma made a happy sound, wrapping one big hand loosely around her for a moment. Then it squared off in his direction.

“Nacho, I choose you,” she said with a quirky little smile.

The Pokémon Trainer grinned as he pulled out the pokéball containing a Metagross. But before he could say anything, he was interrupted by two newcomers stepping out of the woods- Rocket grunts. “That’s a nice Necrozma,” one of the men said with a smirk. “Be a pity if something bad happened during a fight.”

The transformed Ditto growled. He did not like Team Rocket at all. Using a small arena like this as a hunting ground to try and steal Pokémon, because it was out of the way? Dirty and low. But his normal method of dealing with them wouldn’t work- there was a human here he didn’t want to needlessly kill. He was about to summon another member of his family out of their pokéball to fight when Nim snapped her fingers.

“Lewis, my darling boy, you know the drill,” she said with a grin.

The Haunter smirked before vanishing into the earth with a swirl of smoke at her feet. Dit watched, amazed, as he rose out of the ground behind the Team Rocket members a few seconds later. The Haunter hovered above them, a sphere of dark energy forming between his hands. “Cannon ball!” he said, diving downwards and hurling the shadow ball between the grunts at the same time.

The two humans fled- that was not what they’d been expecting at all, given the appearances of the Haunter’s trainer. Nim had chosen to go straight for them instead of Pokémon battling with them. That was terrifying to the Team Rocket goons because it meant she was not about to put up with their attempt.

But the attack had some unexpected side effects as it had been a particularly powerful one. A chunk of loose brick spun towards Dit and Nim. The Ditto was in the act of dodging when Nim raised one hand towards him.

Crackling blue energy shielded the Pokémon trainer, causing the rubble to bounce back towards Nim. She didn’t shield herself in time. That was one of her faults as well as something which made her good at her job- the woman focused on others first, sometimes at cost to herself. It hit, hard, on her bad right leg just above the knee. There was no blood, but the impact could be heard. The woman went down with a strangled shriek of pain, kneeling on the dirt of the arena.

“Oh hell- Nim, I’m so sorry, I overdid that,” Lewis said as he rushed to her side. “You ok, Boss?”

She nodded, blinking tears out of her eyes and swallowing hard. “I’ll be alright,” the woman gasped. “You ok, big guy? Lucas, Nacho? No one injured? Dit, what about you?”

“I’m fine,” he replied, looking at her in surprise. “That was Aura, wasn’t it? I didn’t know humans could do that.”

“Some can. It’s really rare,” Nim said as she struggled to her feet.

Lucas immediately handed her the cane which she had dropped, while allowing her to lean against him. “Take a moment, Mother,” the telepathic Pokémon said quietly. “You need to rest.”

Mother? Another surprise. This human could not only manipulate Aura, but one of her Pokémon thought of her as a mom. Dit was interested in the trainer. It seemed that like him, she thought of her team as family. The Necrozma, Nacho, moved so that Nim could sit on his hand and take the weight off her bad leg.

“Hey, Dit, raincheck on our battle?” Nim asked tiredly. “I need to get home and have my Medicham, Misha, help me out with this, I think I messed something up in my leg again when that rock hit.”

The Ditto was disappointed that he wasn’t going to get the battle he was hoping for, but he did understand. “I will hold you to that raincheck,” he told her with that creepy grin which kept setting Lucas on edge.

Nim gave him a little pained smile back, waving to him. “You betcha. You want to stop on by tomorrow, my house is the big lavender colored one with the stone wall around it and the barn in the back, on the other side of the overpass heading out of the west side of town. You can’t miss it, ask about Nim’s place and anyone can point you my way.”

Dit nodded. He could remember those directions. “See you tomorrow,” he said with a wry chuckle, pocketing the pokéball in his hand and walking off.

He was mulling over a plan for the battle against her when he realized something. Had he been a character in an anime, there would have the lines accompanying the blip of shocked realization coming from the back of his head. The Ditto’s eyes went wide when he realized that a human who could use Aura would also be able to sense it…

…and had to know his secret.

The Ditto swore at that. He looked around, but the park was too populated for him to do what needed to be done. It would also be dangerous to try and attack the woman in her own home. She took in sick and wounded Pokémon, there were likely many who would defend her without hesitation. He also had seen three of her team- a trainer like that surely had a full battling team of six heavy hitters, seeing as she had asked if he wanted a larger battle.

No, he’d have to kill her in a spot where she was vulnerable and there weren’t other people around to witness it. Preferably caught off guard so that she didn’t summon the Pokémon who would defend her. Dit really didn’t want to make too big a deal of this since he already didn’t like the idea of killing a rehab worker. But he also didn’t trust she wouldn’t snitch on him to Officer Jenny.

The overpass was the perfect place. He had flown there after seeing that the woman was walking. Even on her bad leg, she was still making her way home on foot. Dusk had fallen in the time it took her to make her way across the city, which was perfect for what he had in mind. The Haunter and the Lucario were nowhere to be seen- likely recalled to their pokéballs. Dit was a bit confused at that. He’d thought for sure that the two of them would have been at her side to help her walk. Well, a stroke of luck for him.

He shifted back to his human form, leaning casually against the metal rail which blocked the sidewalk from the street. The protective rails on both sides of the path also meant that the trainer could only run in two directions. Dit was pretty sure he was faster than Nim as he watched her hobble up to where he was waiting, hood raised over his baseball cap to hide his face.

“Hey, Nim, I’m actually a bit sorry about this,” he said, stepping forward to block her path. “You seem like a nice one.”

Nim leaned back in surprise when Dit’s arm suddenly shifted to that of a Scyther’s bladed claw. She threw up a shield of Aura energy in the nick of time, blocking the blow. Her cane dropped to the ground with a clatter, forgotten as she tried to defend herself. The human stumbled back from the force of his attack and raised her hands.

“Hey, Dit, come on, you don’t want to do this,” she told him. “Let me take some R&R time, we can have a proper fight tomorrow.”

The woman was surprisingly calm. Dit supposed that was good. He preferred she try talking him out of it instead of trying to fight back, which could be messy and obvious. It wasn’t like he was going to trust her no matter what she said- but letting her talk gave him time to get closer. “Like I said, you seem nice,” he repeated.

He easily grabbed the front of her shirt with his hand, raising the other arm up. The stance was oddly intimate since he held her close without room to get away. Even if he could not shapeshift, in the form of his previous trainer he was so much stronger than the disabled woman. It would be so easy to just snap the human like a twig. He didn’t like it, but it had to be done. The human had to die for him to feel safe.

“Don’t make this any harder than it has to be,” Dit said quietly.

The Ditto paused when he felt something press against his stomach. “Got something in your pocket? You can’t be that happy to see me,” he told her with a little smirk that didn’t make it to his eyes- he wasn’t pleased to have to kill a human who took care of Pokémon in a rehabilitation home. Nim snorted, still oddly calm. “Yeah, no, it’s not what you think. Put me down so I don’t have to see Reba and Remy gut you. This is my favorite jacket and I don’t want to ruin it. I also don’t want you to get hurt, I get why you’re doing this.”

Dit looked down and saw two knives were pressed against his abs, each angled in a way where they could be slashed in the opposite directions after piercing skin and muscle. That would certainly do a good job of opening him up. The knifes melded into the wrists of two arms, a bit of pink drip at the connecting point looking quite familiar to the shift point of his own arm at the moment.

The knife wielders stood up behind Nim, keeping the blades pressed at his stomach in warning. They were clearly twins, a brother and a sister, and had been crouched behind her. Dit wasn’t sure how he had not noticed them until he saw that the pokéballs on Nim’s belt were all attached so that they angled backward. The two Dittos had likely been summoned to her side when she stumbled away from him. He hadn’t seen them because they were hidden by her own body when they kept low behind Nim.

Now that was extremely sneaky and clever. But such a plan meant the human had thought she would be attacked. He didn’t like that one bit. Dit’s day had gone from bad to worse now that Nim had backup and his idea hadn’t worked like he’d expected.

“How’d you do that?” he demanded irately, leaving his arm raised. They currently had a bit of a stalemate, and he was not about to give that up. Even the smallest advantage was better than nothing. If Nim had planned for this, she’d likely planned for other things, too.

“The phrase I said,” Nim explained. “When I talked about fighting tomorrow? Reba and Remy, my R&R duo of Dittos. The pokéballs are facing backwards, they popped out on their own when I called for them. You were too busy trying to carve me like a turkey to notice others like you, dude.”

“If you know what I am, then you know why I’ve got to do this,” Dit said as he tightened his grip on her shirt, his face close to hers.

Nim snorted. “What, you think you’re the first Pokémon to do something like this? Lemme guess, you offed your trainer for some reason. I’m guessing…you cut his throat? Nah, too planned, it was probably in the heat of the moment…ooh, you didn’t stab him in the back, did you? Break his neck? Come on, Dit, give me some details.”

The Ditto trainer was a bit unnerved by how nonchalant she was. His expression dropped when he heard someone clear their throat behind him. Distraction. She’d been distracting him and was fighting dirty. He’d seen this move earlier.

“Vibe check,” Lewis said as he swung the trainer’s wooden cane at Dit’s head.

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

Dit woke up in a soft bed, with the blanket tucked around his shoulders and a throbbing headache. He sat upright in alarm, throwing off the blanket in the same motion and staring at the unfamiliar surroundings. The female of the Ditto twins was sitting near the doorway, looking at him over sunglasses.

“You’re a pain,” she muttered as she regarded him. “Nim said we couldn’t leave you there. Try and kill my trainer again, and so help me, I will make you regret it.”

The Pokémon trainer growled at that. He was about to say something snarky in reply when Nim poked her head in the doorway to break it up. “Reba, c’mon, be nice. Good to see you’re awake, Dit, I thought Lewis had seriously scrambled something up there when you were out the entire night. You should come get some breakfast.”

“Why should I trust you?” Dit demanded.

Nim shrugged. “Ok, don’t, then. It’s no skin off my back. By the way, this is yours. There’s bacon, eggs, and toast in the kitchen if you change your mind.” The human tossed a pokéball to him. Dit caught it, fumbled the sphere, and blinked when he saw the name written on it. This was his pokéball. Nim must have taken it while he was unconscious. It would have been something very useful to have against him if she had wanted to have an advantage.

Instead, she had given it back.

Reba scowled at him before following after the woman. Dit had to wonder where her twin was. He definitely did not want to try anything in Nim’s home unless he absolutely had to, not after seeing how she had planned the night before. But he had to kill the human somehow to protect his own secret.

Dit walked down the hall to the kitchen, following the smell of cooking food. It did smell awfully good. Nim was at the stove, and Reba was at her side, shifting to a Meowstic. The Ditto trainer decided to sit at the table, which was set for several Pokémon and two humans if the silverware was anything to go by. He’d bide his time until the right moment presented itself.

“So how did you know?” Dit asked. “I’m real good at keeping my secret. What tipped you off, and how did you plan for my attempt at killing you?”

Nim snorted. “Oh, you are good, I’ll give you that. I figured it out when I felt your Aura, and you said five against five for a fight…you’re a Ditto, and there were all the signs that you took over the team you were part of. So why would you do that? Duh, you look like a trainer…probably your trainer. How do you avoid a human trainer ratting you out as a thief and a fraud? Easy if you could take his face because he’s dead. And you’d do that if you killed him, probably. If you’ve killed before, you might be willing to do it again to keep your secret, and you’re no dummy, you had to know what me being able to use Aura meant. So, planning ahead with Reba and Remy about where you were most likely going to try and kill me. The overpass seemed like it’d be the best spot if you were plotting a murder.”

Dit swallowed hard. He definitely was sure he could not trust her enough to let her live now after hearing that. This human was dangerous, and killing her was the only option he could see. “So what do you want?” he asked slowly. “Blackmail?”

The human rolled her eyes. “Absolutely not. I don’t want anything, except maybe for you to stop trying to kill me. You seriously think you’re the first Pokémon to kill their trainer? Bad trainers exist, and I know it, I get to look after the ones who were mistreated. I’ve got a Greninja with a scarred up face and a missing arm because of bad humans, and a midnight form Lycanroc with PTSD from the same situation. Their trainer gave them up to a Pokémon Center before turning himself in for Pokémon abuse, pretty messed up and in need of hospital care. You are not the first Pokémon to retaliate, Dit, and I don’t blame you for killing someone who abused you. Now, you want breakfast? I messed up the eggs, so they’re scrambled, that ok?”

The trainer tilted his head. “You are way too calm about this,” he told her suspiciously. “Did you call Officer Jenny on me or something?”

“No, I just don’t like seeing Pokémon mistreated,” Nim said. “You know, that being the reason why I run a rehab house for them? Things are never black and white, either. This is not my first rodeo when it comes to Pokémon who did stuff most would consider to be really bad. You have your secrets, and I have mine.”

“…who have you killed?” Dit asked, eyes narrowing.

“No one, yet, I’ve had my coffee this morning,” the tattooed woman replied with a laugh. “Seriously, we’re cool and I won’t rat you out. I don’t think you just go around randomly killing people. Probably just the ones who need to go or figure out your secret. I’d prefer not to be on that second list is all.”

“And why should I trust you?” the Ditto asked as he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in the chair.

Nim put one arm over her stomach. She rested her elbow on it to tap her chin with one fingertip. “Hmm, let me see,” she said with an exaggerated air of thoughtfulness. “I had your pokéball, and gave it back instead of using it. I didn’t let Reba and Remy gut you. I could have taken you straight to Officer Jenny, but instead I let you sleep off a clonk to the head in one of my guest rooms. I’m making you breakfast even after you tried to kill me. If I meant anything bad, dude, I had hours to pull a stunt and loads of opportunity.”

Dit mulled it over. She had a point. But that still didn’t explain why Nim hadn’t done any of those things. That made no sense to him unless she wanted something from him. “No really, what do you want?” he demanded.

The woman shrugged. “Why does everyone have to want something? I mean, I’d like to not have you try to kill me again, isn’t that enough? Last night was a close one even if I was ready for it.”

He was reminded about the two Dittos she had when the woman said that. “Your Dittos talk and can pass as human, like me,” Dit said. “What’s up with that?”

“Rescued from Team Rocket labs,” Nim told him simply. “Same as Lewis.”

“I don’t trust you,” Dit said firmly.

“I figured,” Nim said as she put a plate full of food in front of him. “And it makes sense. Humans probably always want something based on the ones you’ve likely met- and why would anyone trust a murderer?”

Dit gave her a skeptical look. “You said it. So. Why don’t you want anything, and why do you trust a murderer?”

“Technically, murder is one human killing another,” Nim mused as she sat down at the table. “Yours is just self-defense. You have to watch your own back, right? And what would happen to your Pokémon family if you were caught? It’s not just what would happen to you. I get it. I’m not condoning it or saying it’s a good thing, but I get it. And no, I prefer not to know your kill count, I don’t need to know as long as I’m not on the list.”

The Pokémon put both hands on the table and leaned forward, getting uncomfortably into her space. “How do I know you won’t betray me?”

Nim sighed. “Well, I’m not sure what to tell you if I haven’t convinced you yet. Tell you what, you eat breakfast and follow me. If I try anything, you get to do what you feel you need to do.”

The woman’s two Dittos shifted at that, to their own chosen human forms. The brother was quiet, gesturing wildly that he did not approve of that, while his sister spoke for both of them. “No, we won’t let you!” Reba said. “You can’t do that!”

“If I expect him to trust me, I’ve got to show some trust in him,” Nim reminded the Ditto twins.

“…you have one day to convince me,” Dit told her, going against his better judgement. “Then I’ll do what I have to.”

“Deal,” the trainer agreed, holding out her hand. “Hey, if your head is hurting from getting clonked by Lewis, I’ve got a few things from the Poké Mart to fix you up.”

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

Dit had a bit of a scare when Officer Jenny came to the house after breakfast. But it soon became apparent that she was there for other reasons- Nim hadn’t called her, nor did the trainer say or do anything to reflect that her life was in danger. The police officer was there because a Pokémon needed to be dropped off into Nim’s care. She didn’t even notice Dit.

Nim went about her day after getting the new Pokémon settled in, which involved taking care of a lot of other Pokémon who were housed in the barn behind her home. There was also a great deal of grocery shopping. The human made good use of the day being Saturday to get her errands done. She had plenty of opportunity to try and rat Dit out. Considering her life was on the line, he expected her to try and get some help from outside sources.

Yet she didn’t.

It was confusing. She even did nice things for him- not an attempt at bribery, but just because she could. When Nim had stopped for lunch, she bought him a burger and fries as well, tossing the bag to him. It wasn’t something done as an afterthought, but instead a genuine gesture of intentional kindness.

Nim excused herself to her room when they got back to her house, saying she was tired and needed to sleep a bit. Running a lot of errands like that was hard on the disabled trainer because of how much it hurt her to walk. Dit was skeptical about the fact that she was supposedly taking a nap. Surely she wasn’t planning on sleeping while someone who wanted to kill her was in the house?

He waited until she was snoring- it had to be an act- to slip through the partially opened doorway. The woman’s room was simple, and none of her Pokémon team were with her. He’d watched her put the pokéballs on the kitchen table before going to lay down for a nap. She had also told the others to give him space. The woman was completely defenseless, a lonely huddled form sleeping under a blanket.

“Too easy,” Dit muttered as he shifted his arm. He raised the Scyther claw blade high, bringing it down sharply.

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

Dinner was good. Nim had made a solid meal of roasted vegetables, twice-baked potatoes, and steak. Her team was still uneasy around Dit, but Nim seemed pretty comfortable. Either she really did trust him, or she was a helluva good actor.

“I was going to kill you while you were sleeping,” he told her nonchalantly as they ate.

Nim tilted her head, ignoring the way her Pokémon stiffened and glared at Dit. “Oh? So what changed?”

“You snore, do you know that? Really loudly, too. I thought it had to be a trick. But you were actually asleep. I wanted to kill you, I could have, and yet…you decided to trust me,” Dit said thoughtfully. “I guess I can try trusting you some. But seriously. You betray me, and I will kill you. Don’t think that I won’t just because you do a good thing with this house of yours.”

“That’s fair,” Nim mused. “Thank you, Dit, for giving me a chance. So, I still owe you a Pokémon battle. Want to come back tomorrow and try that again?”

Dit was hesitant to leave, concerned for what she might try to do when she was out of his sight. But, against his better judgement, he decided to give the woman a further chance to prove herself as being trustworthy. Nim had shown trust in him in spite of all she knew he had done. Not to mention what he had just told the woman he’d nearly done to her.

“Sure,” he said slowly. “A battle after breakfast?”

“You are so on,” Nim told him. “Bring your A-game, because I won’t settle for anything less.”

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

The Ditto didn’t sleep well during the night. There was too much on his mind. If he had judged the human wrong, there was a lot on the line. And if he had made a bad decision…Dit would definitely be kicking himself for it. He found himself hoping he wouldn’t have to kill the woman, not after she’d given the appearance of trusting him.

Nim was waiting at the house the next morning. A quick look around before he had made his presence known showed that it was safe. No Officer Jenny, no police force Arcanines, no police detectives there to take him into custody. Only a smiling woman who had made an extra helping of breakfast just in case he wanted it when he arrived. The food wasn’t drugged. She made no move to attack him, and even knowingly turned her back to Dit repeatedly in a show of trust.

Maybe she genuinely meant what she’d said after all.

“Gonna see if you’ve got what it takes to beat me?” Dit asked as they stood in the practice arena in the barn after having breakfast with Nim. He stood in a prepared stance, pokéball raised and at the ready. It was time to see what Nim’s team was made of. The Ditto may have had a hard time trusting her, but he was always ready for a Pokémon battle, and Nim promised to be a challenge from what he had seen of her and her team already.

The woman snorted as she raised a pokéball of her own on the other side of the open space. “Bring it, Pinky,” she told him with a smirk.

“Oh, you did not just go there!” Dit retorted back. “It is definitely on now.”

Maybe, just maybe, he could trust her. A little. He’d still kill her if he had to in order to keep himself safe. If it came down to the human or him, he was going to take care of himself. Dit had to look out for himself and his family.

But it was starting to look like knowing this human might actually be fun.

#fan characters #fanart #pokemon #pokemon trainer #violence #murder #murder attempt #fighting

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omalleymenagerie · 4 years

Text

Alright, so, I was at the #PittsburghProtest yesterday and these are my experiences and takeaways.

CW: violence, police, looting, war crimes, vomiting, social injustice, racism, classism, long as fuck

It was chaos. The original protest leaders left at their designated time and when white supremacists showed up. That was fair on their part, but there were still people there trying to be heard by the police.

There were also people there for the wrong reasons. There was looting. You wanna know where those people were? Not standing directly in front of the cops where they were firing teargas.

Just a reminder, folx, the Geneva Convention states that chemical warfare is a war crime punishable on an international level. Not that the police will ever be held accountable even on a local level. Not the big tough good guys firing caustic gas at civilians. Who's a super brave fascist tool? Is it you, cops? I think it is.

My two housemates and I got there after the official protest was over because we heard the situation was escalating. We weren't going because it was exciting or trending. We went as support. We brought medical supplies, food, water, and several ways to neutralize the CHEMICAL WEAPONS the police were firing. At unarmed civilians. Because they're the good guys. People were already vomiting and running from the teargas when we were dropped off. We went toward it to see what we could do.

People were looting The Exchange, but these weren't protesters. These were opportunists. No one in Pittsburgh wants to fuck up our area. You wanna break shit? Break shit that hurts the community, not helps it. The 7/11s in the area didn't close and were good to us. Then someone broke the front doors of one of them and robbed the place wearing literal rubber masks. Like from a B-heist movie.

Those people weren't there to help the cause. Those people were not there to support the black community. Those people are not the allies that any community needs. Those people saw an opportunity and took it because clearly the cops were more concerned about a bunch of people standing in a line holding signs and chanting to stop police brutality against people of color. Yeah, because we were the threat.

Some of the teargas canisters were thrown back at the officers. Most of them were booted over while still going to stop them from harming protestors. The cops can act the victim on that if they want, but they're the ones with body armor and a full head breathing helmet. So, I'm pretty sure they were more equipped to handle the CHEMICAL WARFARE they were using on us.

My group quickly realized there was no one was in charge. We, three white people, have no place leading a movement like this. We were there to raise up the voices from the black community, not speak over or for them. So, we tried to find anyone who could help us go where we needed to go. We found a pair who seemed to at least have a direction to point us in. An older black gentleman who was mad about the looting and people wrecking up the city, and a younger black woman who was vehement that the looters were not part of this. They actually began their conversation as a heated argument across an intersection, but he went to her and they talked out their differences. By the time we approached them, they had found common ground. It was a beautiful display of conflict resolution. Take notes, cops.

We attempted to get barricades moved so people could actually get in and out of the city, but the cops were surrounding us, literally using city blocks to block us in and it was hard to encourage people to take away the wall between them and the people firing caustic gas at us.

Have I mentioned the teargas enough yet? Have I mentioned how horrific it smells and how it burns your flesh even by secondhand contact? Have I mentioned the people vomiting in the streets after having CHEMICAL WEAPONS used on them? Have I mentioned the screaming? Have I mentioned the terror of being separated from your loved ones when one or both of you were trapped inside the caustic gas?

I witnessed it first hand. The cops fired the canisters. The crowd screamed to run. Several people weren't fast enough to escape in time. One of my group had a full face gas mask, so he ran into the gas and physically aided an individual out who was vomiting uncontrollably. We neutralized the chemicals in their eyes and skin, called for medics who were almost nonexistent, and helped reunite them and their fiancee.

(I am using they/them pronouns as I am not sure of their pronouns and don't wish to misgender them. If you are this person or know this person, please know there was deep bravery in their actions and no shame in having a meltdown. I hope they and their fiancee who was also gassed are doing as well as they can.)

It was starting to get into the evening and my group tried to figure out where the police were set up in case anything bad did happen. We were pretty much loosely surrounded. When we got back to the main group, a line of fully geared cops had formed a block or so away from where most of us were. The police chief had put an 8:30 curfew out and we were told the cops would be taking action if we did not disperse.

That's when a small group of us formed our own line in front of the officers. We were a small, but diverse group. Gonna be honest, not everyone in that line had the same agenda. I don't like cops. I've called them insulting things in private conversations with not cops. Insulting them while trying to preach peace was not the correct way to handle this. Will it elicit a laugh if you outright state that officer over there has never made a woman orgasm in his life? Probably, but they were just making the cops mad. Not gonna lie, most of the people ACTIVELY insulting the cops were white faces.

My group did not follow suit. We listened to the people of color we stood with. We chanted the names of those murdered, I can't breath, no justice/no peace, and black lives matter. We stuck to the peaceful message the protest was meant to send. The officers were asked why they needed shields and armor against unarmed civilians? Why 20 unarmed civilians calling for an end to police brutality required no less than 40 fully geared officers? We weren't the threat. The looters who several blocks away? They were the criminals. The vandals? They were the criminals. We had our arms up or out, universal signs to show we were not a threat.

At one point, a man rode up behind us on a bike, hiding behind us completely and holding a phone out with the picture of a black man on it. The man on the bike was screaming about how they had murdered his brother, but something didn't sit right about the guy. I'm a lifelong theater kid. I know bad acting when I hear it. He wasn't sobbing. He had his head covered with a shirt so no one could get a clear look at him and then rode off just as quickly as he'd ridden in. I won't say this man was there to incite further anger, but I have deep suspicions.

I have never been at the front of a protest line facing the cops before. I have never seen nearly 50 faceless, armored, and armed officers who have permission to potentially permanently harm. I couldn't call them individuals in that moment. They were like a swarm, buzzing with tension. Some of them seemed ready to go as soon as the order was given. Some of them stood as though emotionless automatons. They switched out groups of officers, where they were standing, who had what weapon or shield. There were some that stayed exactly where they were the entire time I stood there.

I made a choice to try to look several of them in the eyes which was difficult through the visors but we were close enough that I could see their eyes. I wasn't being intimidating. I was trying to be one human looking at another human and trying to understand how we ended up here. I didn't lock eyes with any of them purposefully, but one of the officers and I did lock eyes. I'd like to say I was being brave by keeping eye contact. I'll be honest, I had a freeze response to fear. There was so much anger and coldness that I couldn't move for a few seconds. I don't know if the officer took my actions as a threat, but they weren't intended that way. Threatening cops doesn't make them want to hurt you or those around you less.

Several of us had to leave the line before the deadline. I am not ashamed to state I was one of them. Frankly, I'm a trans man, and the idea of being put in jail and misgendered for potentially several days is frightening enough without even thinking about abuses I could face. My housemate looked at me and said, "If they catch you, they will take you." So, he handed me his backpack, and I left.

There were officers everywhere while I walked through the city. Some were "undercover" but they knew they were in the homestretch and weren't even pretending to not be cops. None of which were wearing masks, as a side note. We ain't in the green yet, boys. Masks up.

I also passed several groups of fully geared cops. I just had to keep walking.

I heard sirens blaring from the direction I'd left my companions. I just had to keep walking.

I saw looters laughing about how everything was "on sale" or "so cheap" today. I just had to keep walking.

I walked probably about 5 miles to the place we had agreed to meet and waited. Hoping they would show up. I waited an hour. Nothing. I walked back down the road, hoping I would meet them along the way. Nothing. I went back to the meeting place, hoping they were there wondering where I was. Nothing. I'll note here that I made the choice to leave my phone at home. So, I had no means of communication. I finally decided that waiting 2 hours was probably longer than I should have waited, and borrowed the phone from a pizza place. Many thanks again, my dude, I'd shout you out if I could remember the name of your shop, but I'm definitely hitting you up for pizza later.

While I waited, I watched as cop cars drove by dozens of times. I don't know if they were the same cars or different ones. There were just a lot of them. I listened to sirens blare all around me. I listened to helicopters zoom around the sky. I watched as people from the protest walked by. I watched as people with looted goods walked by. I watched as people went about their lives as though the world were not rioting. I watched as eight horse mounted officers clopped by grinning like cowboys keeping order in the wild west.

I got picked up and was home safe after nightlight. It turned out my housemates were arrested and we're getting those logistics figured out. I'm worried about my partner because we haven't heard from her today.

I'm physically unharmed from my experience beyond some blisters from walking probably 10-15 miles collectively with intermittent running when, you know, chemical weapons were fired in my direction by law enforcement officers.

I am not okay, though.

I'll be honest, I grew up privileged. I grew up not thinking the cops were going to shoot me or my loved ones. I didn't have to be afraid because of the color of my skin. I was never one of those, "racism is over," people because I grew up in the south where racism is alive, well, and thriving. I grew up always afraid cops were going to arrest my father because he pretty much told me if we were ever pulled over the cops were taking him away from me. (Thanks for the long-term trauma, dad. Gotta pay for my therapist's kid's braces somehow, right?)

But that's why I went. Because, statistically and factually, I am less likely to be murdered by the police than any of the POC there just because of the color of my skin. So, I went because I was physically capable of being on my feet outside for that long, which is my physical privilege. I stood with the black community yesterday because I am trying to be the best ally I know how to be.

I may not be able to go to another protest soon, but I will when I'm able. I'm very shaken. My already crumbling worldview is shattered beyond repair and I'm just trying to figure out what to do with all these broken shards of hope.

If you made it this far into my rambling, thanks for taking the time to read. These are my experiences. These are my opinions. I stand with the black community. Your value is not determined by the color of your skin.

(Edited because leaving my phone at home was not a mistake, just frightening. Remember, phones are tracking devices.)

#black lives matter #say their names #Pittsburgh protest #nojusticenopeace #I cant breath #ally

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ask-mini-niji · 5 years

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Ho ho ho~

//Merry Christmas to @mugiwarasinger! I am your Secret Santa this year~ It’s been a while since I wrote something of this size and I do hope you enjoy this little thing I’ve done. I very much liked writing something different from my usual, and this challenged me to do so. Small interactions here and there and hopefully it’s to your liking! Thank you @opsecretsanta2019 for hosting this and making me take a part in this~

Sanji was used to having to wake up early. Ever since him and that old geezer had started running the Baratie as a business they were all required to wake up at ungodly hours to prepare for the day. Here in the Sunny Go, it wasn't any different. The young blond yawned, forcing his eyes open and sitting up from his hammock. Outside it was getting quite chilly, probably sailing near a winter island. He pushed the blanket off him and threw his legs over the edge of the bed, letting out a big yawn. A quick glance at the calendar hanging on his wall made him sport a big grin. He carefully hopped onto the floor, his bare feet barely making a noise as not to wake the others. Though Luffy snored so loud it would be impressive to even get them to stir with his footsteps anyways. At least rubber boy was useful for something. Sanji carefully opened his locker, changing into a fresh suit and stepping into his favorite walkers. One quick look in the mirror and he gave himself a quick nod and a pat on the back. Time to get prepare for the night. ~ "You're late, young eggplant. We already did most without you." "Shut up, shitty geezer." Of course, the second he went downstairs he had to get an earful of the damn old man. Sanji made his way down the stairs, his hand following the railing which was now adorned with green and white garland. Somewhere on the lower steps, Carney was busy putting seashells in hooks. He passed by, exchanging quick greeting as he entered the dining room. Every table had a small wreath in the middle, each decorated with red ribbons and a candle standing tall at its center. The walls were decorated in more colorful garlands, Patty and another group of chefs hanging Christmas ornaments and more decorated shells on each wall. It would probably look better if Patty wasn't the one deciding what goes where. "Are you just gonna be staring or are you actually gonna try to make an effort here?" A voice spoke next to him. Sanji turned to the old man next to him and huffed. "Was just making sure Patty wasn't making it too horrible to look at is all." "HAH?! Got something to say to my face you punk?!" "Nope. Go focus on those shells before you forget where to hang them- Ow! What the hell, geezer?!" Zeff had given him a firm knee to the back, successfully dropping Sanji onto the floor. "Less talking, brat. Go help us out with the tree." He made a quick gesture behind him and Sanji followed. In the corner of the dining room stood a large Christmas tree. It was already decorated with blue and white garlands, some shells hanging from the top. Sanji sighed with a smile, getting up and walking over and rummaging around the box of decorations. "Going bigger this year?" "Because you are more useful working on this than in the kitchen." Zeff hummed, making his way to the kitchen. "Eh?! I'll make you eat those words, old man! Just watch. This will be the nicest tree you've laid eyes on AND I will blow you away with a mouth watering dinner!" Sanji yelled back, missing the small smile that appeared on the man's face. ~ Sanji took a step back, admiring his work for a moment. The table was decorated with a gorgeous red cloth that he found on the previous island. He had already plated the cold dishes, placing them on various places that almost filled half the table alone. In the oven he had a chicken and on the stove lay a large piece of ham, fit to feed a group of 15. Or one rubber captain. Content with what he has prepared for tonight he decided that now was a good moment to take a smoke break. The first thing that hit him after stepping out of the galley was the nice cool sea breeze. Looking out on deck he could see the whole crew working together. The Marimo was carrying a large Christmas tree around deck, following Nami-san's instructions of where to place it. Usopp and Chopper were making homemade ornaments together. Apparently they were also making themed ones, since from where he was he could spot two wooden pieces looking suspiciously similar to their captain's straw hat. Robin was helping Franky decorate the mast and railings, watching her devilfruit sprout onto the galley door and hanging up a wreath and giving the blond a thumbs up. "Good evening Sanji-san, how are you liking the ship thus far?" A familiar voice echoed behind him. The blond startled back a bit, spotting the ghostly spirit of their musician. "Brook? What are you doing floating around as a spirit?" "Yohoho~ I am helping Nami-san by looking for any empty or crooked spots." "Ah Nami-san~ Such an attention to detail~♡ But I see you lot have been busy. Anything I can still add to help?" "Hmmm... I'm not sure. Nami has been working us like elves for the past hours. You should ask her-" "BROOK!" "Oh dear, guess my presence is needed elsewhere~ Yohohohohoho!" And with that, he floated back, presumably to his body. Ah Christmas... a time to celebrate with friends and family. The time of year where you enjoy each others company and give gifts. Seeing his crew work this hard to achieve that Christmas spirit reminded him of the past. Back at the Baratie, where he had first celebrated Christmas at the young age of 10 years old. Sanji looked up at the sky, wondering how that old man was doing. Did the Baratie look as nice as before? Or were the indeed hopeless without his eye for detail. He chuckled at the thought before jumping down onto deck, deciding to help out with the decorations since his work in the kitchen was done. "Watch where you're going Shit Cook!" "Hah? Maybe you should watch where you're going. We dont want the tree to stand somewhere behind the ship or something." "Don't worry Sanji-kun! I've had my eyes on him since we started." She gave a thumbs up, propping her hand up on her elbow. "We should be finished soon though. You wanna help decorate the tree?" "Of course Nami-san~ I'll make the nicest tree you've ever laid eyes on!” The chef gave her a proud thumbs up, turning to the Marimo who carefully placed the tree right in the center of the grassy deck. Chopper and Usopp were already walking over, having finished their little ornaments. Robin was already one step ahead of them, placing a shiny gold star on top of the tree for them. As time passed by, the tree lit up brightly in the dark cold sky. Everyone took a step back, admiring the view of what they all helped creating. In the time people were just smiling and admiring, some of the members went to the cabins to bring the presents and place them under. Sanji followed suite, putting his pile of neatly wrapped presents under the tree. In the time he looked around though, there was one question on his mind. “Has anyone seen Luffy?” Everyone shared a look, Usopp crossing his arms and tilting his head. “Luffy? He was helping us make charms. Then he said he went...to... check...on you...” Everyone went silent, slowly turning to the door of the galley which was now eerily quiet. Everything else happened so fast, starting with the cook yelling so many curses that this part had to be censored.

#opsecretsanta2019 #not an ask #written by mun #sanji #zeff #flashbacks #christmas #yaaay

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nowitsdarkfic · 5 years

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chapter seventeen (”...serum..”)

There’s the sound of a machine beeping right behind my head. I’m waking up to the clean smell of a hospital again, but there’s something else here. Something different.

I roll my head over the surface of the pillow to find there’s a silvery metal table of scalpels and a hefty glass syringe right next to me; underneath that is a big smooth gray block. A computer, maybe? There are little lights along the side and it’s making a quiet hum. My head aches me, such that it feels like someone hit me in the back with a hatchet or at least something sharp.

I try to lift up my arm to massage my temples, but I can’t. Something’s holding me down.

I take a look down to find I’ve been strapped down to a hospital bed. Actually no, it’s an operating table, complete with those tough, heavy brown leather belts. Someone also took my clothes and my boots, and gave me a hospital gown instead.

What the hell?

I blink several times so my eyes adjust to the pale yellow light casting over me. And then I catch the sound of a door opening to my right. I roll my head over again to find old man Mike Morlente, the curmudgeon down the street from Brick’s house, and the creepy old white-haired guy striding into the room. Surely this is just a bad dream.

The old guy sneers at me as he stands to my right. The curmudgeon is down by my feet. Mike rounds my head to meet up with me on the left side of the bed.

“Well, well, well,” he says to me. I swallow--I don’t know how long I’ve been laying here, but apparently I’ve been laying here long enough to have a sore throat.

“I should’ve known it was you who’s been trying to uncover everything that’s been going on with my company and my daughter. I was wondering what happened to those placebos, too--that little bitch.”

“No, you don’t understand--” I start, feeling my heart hammer inside of my chest.

“I think I do!” he snaps at me. “You met Maya one day and got curious, didn’t you? That’s what Walter’s grandfather tried to do with me, but now he’s pushing up daisies. Just like you’ll be doing soon enough. Joseph Bellardini. Former lead singer of Anthrax. Don’t think I don’t know.”

“What’d you do with Brick?” I demand.

“Nothing. But he’s living on borrowed time. So is your old band.” I want to know where Lars, Chris, and Nancy are, that is if they are in fact nearby. I don’t even know where I am!

“We tried to warn you in the church,” says the old man.

“Warn me?” I lift my head to look at him. “Warn me of what?”

“Don’t dig too deep, young man--you’ll hit the aquifer and get taken down with it.”

That line from the first copy of After the Watershed, the exact one about digging too deep down and drowning. Maya coming to a church. Of course.

“I’m Reverend Victor Newberry,” the old man continues, setting his hands down on the table on either side of my feet. “Maya and her sister came to my congregation with Michael here. You can just say we put the fear of the Lord into them when they were younger.”

I gape at him. Suddenly it makes sense. Maya duped me in Seattle... but she was making a cry for help, though. She knew I’d come back because I’ve been trying to help her. She saw herself in me. She believed in me.

“You disgusting sack of shit,” I blurt out; something I don’t say often because it’s easy for me to forgive people.

“That’s right,” he whispers to me.

“Just like what we’re gonna do to you,” the curmudgeon adds with a sneer on his face. “I’d like to take all of this curly black hair and make wigs for all of my kids.”

“And then smash his poor little cock with an old Bible!” Reverend Newberry adds.

“Remember, a dusty old Bible means a dirty life,” old man Morlente points out as he’s putting on latex gloves. “But first, I’m gonna stick this syringe of cybernetic serum right into his vocal cords--”

He picks up the syringe closest to me, the one with neon blue fluid inside of the chamber. Neon blue that’s glowing underneath the pale yellow light like it’s radioactive. It’s not a placebo, but the real deal. The same shit injected into Maya and Brick and Anthrax. The same shit that’s killing them all very slowly and very painfully. Moreover, the end of the needle is massive, like one of those needles used in bone marrow transfusions.

“--stick it right into his vocal cords and take that obnoxious voice of his.”

“You sure you wanna stick that big fat needle into his neck?” the curmudgeon stops him. “It’s pretty big.”

“I’ve performed delicate surgery on Maya and Candace so neither of them would wonder too far from home,” old man Morlente assures him. That explains the scar on Maya’s forehead! Yes!

“Yeah, but you’re using a huge needle, though. Shouldn’t you use something a little smaller?”

“Now why would I do that? This shit is going to kill him anyways. It’s pretty much our equivalent of the lethal injection.”

“The same reason why you put a controller chip inside of Maya’s brain? You didn’t want to keep track of her--you want to control her.”

“Wait, what?” I ask him.

“Yeah. You didn’t figure that one out?” the curmudgeon chuckles at me. Old man Morlente chews on his bottom lip at the curmudgeon. And then he turns to Reverend Newberry.

“Get him out of here,” he orders in a terse tone. I look over at the sight of that white haired scumbag guiding the curmudgeon out of the operating room. Old man Morlente then holds onto my chin and tilts my head back so he can see what he’s doing.

He doesn’t put iodine or anything on the skin. He’s just going to do it. He’s just going to put a needle right into me and inject the serum into me!

I snap my eyes shut. Oh God.

Death, here I come again. But for real this time.

There’s a loud thud! outside of the operating room. I feel the tip of the needle come within a hair’s width of my skin when old man Morlente loosens his grip on my chin.

“What the hell--?” he mutters. I open my eyes and look at the syringe in his hand. Still full of that fluid. He didn’t inject it.

But the door to the right swings open and Lars and Hiro burst into the room, holding a rubber mallet and a brick, and that burlap sack in that respective order. Lars is also wearing my checkerboard shirt over his actual shirt. He leaps over me and tackles old man Morlente down onto the floor, knocking the table over and all the while brandishing that mallet.

“Get Joey out of there! Quick!” he orders Hiro. He hangs next to me, rummaging through the sack.

“Thank you,” I tell him in a broken voice.

“Chris called me and Kim from one of the payphones in the City,” he explains, taking out one of the magnets. “And there was a wormhole opened up for us in Seattle so we boogied here as fast as we could.” He holds the slender black magnet over the buckles fastening the belts down on the table. There’s a little clank! next to me and the one holding me down at the chest comes undone. Low tech belts, high tech buckles.

He follows suit on the other belts holding down my wrist, my hips, my thighs, and my ankles; meanwhile, I hear Lars and old man Morlente struggling on the floor, probably swinging the mallet around in hopes to knock him out. I sit up in time to see old man Morlente on top with the tip of the needle pointed right at Lars’ neck.

I reach into the burlap sack at the end of the table for the rubber hose and come up behind old man Morlente with it. I put it around his neck and tighten it. He gasps, and throws the syringe on the floor, hard enough such that it shatters. Lars closes his eyes so nothing gets into his eyes. I linger close to old man Morlente’s ear as he’s struggling to breathe.

“Tell me what you did with Brick and Anthrax,” I whisper to him, loosening my grip. “Tell me what you did or I’ll give you a war like you won’t believe. Tell me.”

“They’re--” he gasps for air. “They’re en route to Seattle!”

“Are you being sincere?” I demand.

“Yes!”

“They’re going to bloody Seattle!” Lars shrieks, sitting upright. There’s whole manner of beeps and screeches from the tower next to us. Little glimmers of pure white electricity shoot out from the sides. Lars looks down at the shirt, my shirt that he’s wearing. The computer is going haywire from the checkerboard pattern.

“Yes! That’s it!” he declares. I let go of old man Morlente so he can stand to his feet and run out of there, probably to look for Reverend Newberry and the curmudgeon.

I don’t where I am, and I don’t know if Brick and Anthrax are even here right now. But I help Lars to his feet and we put the mallet and the hose back into the burlap sack. Even though I’m still wearing this hospital gown, one thing’s for certain and that’s I’m getting the hell out of here.

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britesparc · 5 years

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Weekend Top Ten #388

Top Ten Things Tim Burton’s Batman Films Did Right

Thirty years ago, give or take, the first Tim Burton Batman movie was released in cinemas (according to Google, its UK release date was 11th August 1989). Everyone knows the story; it was a phenomenon, a marketing juggernaut, a hit probably beyond what anyone was reasonably expecting. I was too young to understand or appreciate what was going on, but for twenty years or more the image of Batman in the public consciousness was intertwined with Adam West and pop-art frivolity. Suddenly superheroes were “dark” and “grown-up”; suddenly we had multi-million-dollar-grossing properties, franchises, and studios rummaging through their back catalogues of acquired IPs to land the next four-quadrant hit. Throughout the rest of the nineties we got a slew of pulp comic adaptations – The Spirit, The Phantom, Dick Tracy – before the tangled web of Marvel licenses became slightly easier to unpick, and we segued into the millennium on the backs of Blade, X-Men, and Spider-Man. Flash-forward to a super-successful Batman reboot, then we hit the MCU with Iron Man, and we all know where that goes. And it all began with Batman!

Except, of course, that’s not quite the whole story. Studios were trying to adapt superheroes and comic books for a number of years, not least because Richard Donner’s Superman had been such a huge hit a decade before Batman. And the Batman films themselves began to deteriorate in quality pretty rapidly. Plus, when viewed from the distance of a couple of decades or more, the supposed dark, gritty, adult storytelling in Burton’s films quickly evaporates. They’re just as camp, silly, and nonsensical as the 1960s show, they’re just visually darker and with more dry ice. Characters strut around in PVC bodysuits; the plots make little to no sense; characterisation is secondary to archetype; and Batman himself is quite divorced from his comic incarnation, killing enemies often capriciously and being much less of a martial artist or detective than he appeared on the page (in fact, Adam West’s Batman does a lot more old-school deducing than any of the cinematic Batmen).

I think a lot of people of my generation, who grew up with Adam West, went through a period of disowning the series because it was light, bright, campy and, essentially, for children; then we grow up and appreciate it all the more for being those things, and also for being a pure and delightful distillation of one aspect of the comics (seriously, there’s nothing in the series that’s not plausibly from a 1950s Batman comic). And I think the same is true of Burton’s films. for all their importance in terms of “legitimising” superhero movies, they have come in for a lot of legitimate criticism, and in the aftermath of Christopher Nolan’s superlative trilogy they began to look very old-fashioned and a much poorer representation of the character. But then, again, we all grow up a little bit and can look back on them as a version of Batman that’s just as valid; they don’t have to be perfect, they don’t have to be definitive, but we can enjoy them for what they are: macabre delights, camp gothic comedies, delightfully stylised adventure stories. They might lack the visual pizazz of a Nolan fight scene or, well, anything in any MCU movie, but they’re very much of a type, even if that type was aped, imitated, and parodied for a full decade following Batman’s release. There’s much to love about Burton’s two bites of the Bat-cherry, and here – at last – I will list my ten favourite aspects of the films (that’s both films, Batman and Batman Returns).

Tim Burton’s Batman isn’t quite my Batman (but, for the record, neither is Christopher Nolan’s), but whatever other criticisms I may have of the films, here are ten things that Burton and his collaborators got absolutely right.

Great Design: seriously, from an aesthetic point of view, they’re gorgeous. The beautiful Anton Furst Gotham, all gothic towers and industrial pipework, is a thing of beauty, and in terms of live-action the design of all of Batman’s vehicles and gadgets has never been bettered. It gives Batman, and his world, a gorgeously distinctive style all its own.

Wonderful Toys: it’s not just the design of the Batmobile and Batwing that impresses (big, bulbous round bits, sweeping curves, spiky wings); its how they’re used. Burton really revels in the gadgets, making Batman a serious tech-head with all manner of grappling hooks, hidden bombs, and secret doo-dahs to give him an upper hand in a fight. It makes up for the wooden combat (a ninja Michael Keaton is not), suggesting this Batman is a smarter fighter than a physical one. Plus all those gadgets could get turned into literal wonderful toys. Ker-ching.

He is the Night: Adam West’s Batman ran around during the day, in light grey spandex with a bright blue cape. Michael Keaton’s Batman only ever came out at night, dressed entirely in thick black body armour, and usually managed to be enveloped in smoke. From his first appearance, beating up two muggers on a Gotham rooftop, he is a threatening, scary, sinister presence. It totally sold the idea of Batman as part-urban legend, part-monster. Burton is fascinated with freaks, and in making his Batman freaky, he made him iconic.

You Wanna Get Nuts?: added to this was Michael Keaton’s performance as Bruce Wayne. Controversial casting due to his comedy background and, frankly, lack of an intimidating physique, he nevertheless utterly convinced. Grimly robotic as Batman, he presented a charming but secretive Bruce Wayne, one who was kind and heartfelt in private, but also serious, determined, and very, very smart. But he also excellently portrayed a dark anger beneath the surface, a mania that Bruce clearly had under control, but which he used to fuel his campaign, and which he allowed out in the divisive but (in my opinion) utterly brilliant “Let’s get nuts!” scene. To this date, the definitive screen Bruce Wayne.

Dance with the Devil: The counterpoint to this was Jack Nicholson’s Joker. Cashing a phenomenal cheque for his troubles, he nevertheless delivered; his Joker is wild, over-the-top, cartoonish but also terrifying. In my late teens I was turned off by the performance, feeling it a pantomime and not reflective of the quiet menace and casual cruelty of, say, Mark Hamill’s Joker; but now I see the majesty of it. You need someone this big to be a believable threat to Batman. No wonder that, with Joker dead, they essentially had to have three villains to replace him in the sequel.

Family: Bruce’s relationship with Alfred is one of the cornerstones of the comic, but really only existed in that capacity since the mid-80s and Year One (which established Alfred as having raised Bruce following his parents’ deaths). So in many ways the very close familial relationship in Batman is a watershed, and certainly the first time many people would have seen that depicted. Michael Gough’s Alfred is benign, charming, very witty, and utterly capable as a co-conspirator. One of the few people to stick around through the Schumacher years, he maintained stability even when everything else was going (rubber) tits up.

Meow: I’ve mostly focussed on Batman here, but by jeebies Batman Returns has a lot going for it too. Max Shreck, the Penguin, “mistletoe is deadly if you eat it”… but pride of place goes to Michelle Pfeiffer as Catwoman. An utterly bonkers origin but a perfectly pitched character, she was a credible threat, a believable love interest, and an anti-hero worth rooting for, in a tour-de-force performance. Also came along at just the right time for me to experience puberty. If you’re interested. Plus – and this can’t be overstated – she put a live bird into her mouth. For real. I mean, Christ.

Believably Unreal: I used to criticise Batman for being unrealistic, just as campy in its own way as the ‘60s show. But that’s missing the point. It’s a stylised world, clearly not our own thanks to the Furst-stylings. And Burton uses that to his advantage. The gothic stylings help sell the idea of a retro-futuristic rocket-car barrelling through city streets; the mishmash of 80s technology and 40s aesthetics gives us carte blanche for a zoot-suited Joker and his tracksuited henchmen to tear up a museum to a Prince soundtrack. It’s a world where Max Shreck, looking like Christopher Walken was electrocuted in a flour factory, can believably run a campaign to get Penguin elected mayor, even after he nearly bites someone’s nose off. It’s crazy but it works.

Believably Corrupt: despite the craziness and unreality, the first Batman at least does have a strong dose of realism running through it. The gangsters may be straight out of the 40s but they’ve adopted the gritty grimness of the intervening decades, with slobby cop Eckhart representing corrupt law enforcement. Basically, despite the surrealism on display, the sense of Gotham as a criminal cesspool is very well realised, and extends to such a high level that the only realistic way to combat any of it is for a sad rich man to dress up as Dracula and drive a rocket-car at a clown.

The Score: I’ve saved this for last because, despite everything, Danny Elfman’s Batman theme is clearly the greatest and strongest legacy of the Burton era. Don’t come at me with your “dinner-dinner-dinner-dinner-Batman” nonsense. Elfman’s Batman score is sublime. Like John Williams’ Superman theme, it’s iconic, it’s distinctive, and as far as I’m concerned it’s what the character should sound like. I have absolutely no time for directors who think you should ever make a Batman film with different music. It’s as intrinsically linked with the character as the Star Wars theme is with, well, Star Wars. It’s perfect and beautiful and the love-love-love the fact that they stuck it in the Animated Series too.

Whelp, there we are. The ten best things about Burton’s two Batman movies. I barely spoke about the subsequent films because, well, they’re both crap. No, seriously, they’re bad films. Even Batman Forever. Don’t start.

#top ten #batman #1989 #tim burton #Michael Keaton #batman returns #comics #movies

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