#*** the neighbors across from us and directly on our sides didn’t seem to have an issue with the volume I honestly don’t even think they

[writingwhimsey]

All's Fair In Love & War- Nobunaga Ch. 5

Chapter 5

I stood beside Nobunaga, both of us with our backs pressed against a wall in his castle. Around the corner from us, Hideyoshi was standing speaking to a few of the soldiers who were under his charge. They were discussing their training regime. 

Nobunaga and I had been quietly tailing Hideyoshi  all morning, trying to figure out where he had hidden the konpeito. I was honestly having a hard time not laughing. This situation…it felt so ridiculous and yet it had been my idea. I mean Nobunaga and I were sneaking around his own castle trying to steal back the konpeito his right hand had hidden from him to protect his health. 

We were like kids going on a secret mission to get the candy our mom had hidden from us. Even though we were actually two warlords instead of children. Though I did have to admit… this was kinda fun. And not just because of the absurdness of it all…but because I had learned that the greatly feared Nobunaga Oda, Devil King of the sixth Heaven, and one of the great unifiers of Japan had a weakness for candy.

After observing Hideyoshi, Nobunaga and I managed to determine the room where he had hidden the konpeito. Hideyoshi was walking out of the archives and letting out a sigh. “That’s the fourth time I’ve had to move it, but I know Lord Nobunaga won’t look for it in here.” He spoke to himself. “I hope he can forgive me, but part of being a good vassal is looking out for my lord and protecting him from all dangers including the ones that might seem harmless.”

“Ah, there you Hideyoshi.” Mitsuhide called as he approached him from down the hall.

“Did you need me for something?” Hideyoshi asked.

“Yes. We need to talk about this report of a dispute over some farmland and irrigation planning in one of the neighboring territories.” Mitsuhide answered him. The pair were then standing right there in the hall, Mitsuhide having some paper in his hand.

“We may have to come back under the cover of darkness.” Nobunaga whispered directly in my ear.

I fought against the tingly feeling that sent down my spine. There was something about his closeness…but I shook myself from it. I couldn’t let anything get to me. Besides it wouldn’t matter who was whispering in my ear. It was just a natural response. Ignoring the feeling, I peeked my head around the corner. Hideyoshi’s back was to us and the door to the archives was just right there. It would just need a quick dash.

“No need.” I whispered to Nobunaga before quickly and silently slipping across the hall and into the archives. I waited a moment to make sure that Hideyoshi hadn’t noticed me before I took a look around.

If I were a mother hen like Hideyoshi…where would I hide the konpeito from Nobunaga? I thought to myself as I looked around the room. I began to silently slink around the room, looking around before finding a small decorative vase. I peeked inside and saw the pouch. I reached inside and pulled it out, opening it to see the pink star shapes inside.

“Jackpot.” I whispered to myself before securing the pouch at my waist and then peeking my head outside. Nobunaga was still across the hall as Hideyoshi and Mitsuhide were still discussing the land dispute.

I gave Nobunaga a smug smile before sneaking out the door and then making my way back over to his side. “Got it.” I told him.

“Then let us go and enjoy the spoils of our victory.” Nobunaga told me as he began to stride off. 

I followed after him and we were soon arriving in one of the inner rooms of the castle. I was surprised that he didn’t insist on his room in the tenshu or even my guest room. But then again, it was less likely that we would be discovered by Hideyoshi here.

We were sitting down on a couple of cushions and I pulled out the pouch. We split the candy as we had discussed, both of us smiling. “Victory has never tasted so sweet.” I said with a laugh.

“It is quite delicious.” Nobunaga agreed. “You are rather bold to have snuck behind Hideyoshi like that.”

“Sometimes you have no choice.” I replied with a shrug. “I got good at sneaking around like that when my father was still training me. I used to sneak into councils and other meetings.”

Nobunaga chuckled. “Were you ever discovered?”

“The first few times.” I answered. “But I became pretty good at it after those, learning from my mistakes…good enough that you didn’t know I was there for a couple of the meetings you and my father would have.”

Nobunaga looked at me. “I had a feeling you knew of those, but you witnessed a couple?”

I nodded. “Yes. I watched from another room or the ceiling.”

Nobunaga chuckled. “I was right…you truly are a fireball.”

“I hope that’s a compliment.” I replied, narrowing my eyes at him while popping another piece of candy in my mouth.

“It is indeed.” Nobunaga replied. “I admire your fiery spirit.”

“You’re just saying that because I managed to get your candy.” I replied with a wave of my hand.

“That might add to it, but I have admired your fiery spirit since you first set foot in my council room.” Nobunaga replied. “For a guest in my castle, you spoke rather boldly. I appreciate that kind of audacity.”

“I didn’t come this far by backing down from anyone.” I replied with a shrug. “The moment anyone sees me as weak or meek, then my territory is taken and my people could be walked all over by anyone…even potential allies.”

Nobunaga was looking at me, his expression rather serious. “You are strong, Ava.”

For some reason, I felt my cheeks growing warm at the compliment from him…or maybe it was the intense look in his eyes. I mentally shook myself and then changed the topic of conversation. We continued to chat as we snacked on our spoils of war.

We were in the middle of talking and joking with each other when there was a knock on the door before it quickly slid open. Hideyoshi and Jiro were on the other side. “We have been discovered.” Nobunaga said, keeping his konpeito tucked close as he glared at Hideyoshi.

“What in the hell?” Jiro asked, looking at me in complete surprise.

“Are…did you find where I hid that?” Hideyoshi asked in disbelief. 

“Yes, I did.” I answered. “And how dare you hide konpeito from your lord. After everything Nobunaga has done for you.”

Nobunaga was quickly rising from his seat, his hand reaching for mine and pulling me up. “Come, we must go before they ruin this.” He said, pulling me out another door.

I felt a laugh bubble up from somewhere deep inside me and burst past my lips as Nobunaga and I exited the room we had just been relaxing in. This situation was completely ridiculous, but… my goodness it was…it was FUN! I couldn’t contain my laughter as we made our way through the halls and before making our way to the garden and finding a secluded spot.

When we reached the hidden spot in the garden, Nobunaga was looking at me, having yet to release my hand. “Why do you laugh so much?” He asked, though he wore a smile on his face…one that seemed happy rather than his usual smug or amused one.

I had to wipe at the tears that had worked their way to my eyes from how hard I was laughing. “I just…this situation…and the looks on…their faces…”

Nobunaga was letting out a laugh then as well, slowly releasing my hand as he did so. “It was rather funny to see such bewilderment on Hideyoshi’s face.” He said. “Especially when you scolded him.”

“I take it…he’s usually the one…to do the…scolding…”

“Yes.” Nobunaga replied.

We were both sitting down on the ground as we calmed our laughter. “Oh my… I haven’t laughed like that…in years.” I declared. “This adventure has been fun.”

Nobunaga was looking at me, a surprisingly gentle look on his face. “I haven’t laughed like that…ever that I can recall.” He admitted. “I find your company enjoyable, Ava…and that smile on your face and the sound of your laughter…pleasant.”

I felt my cheeks reddening at the way he was looking at me and his words. I looked away bashfully. “W-well…this is fun.” I agreed. “And…you’re surprisingly good company as well.”

“Of course I am.” Nobunaga replied, his usual smug smile appearing on his face once more.

I laughed and shook my head. “We should probably finish our konpeito before they come looking for us once more.”

“Agreed.” Nobunaga said. We were then going right back to eating and joking around.

Hideyoshi and Jiro…

“What…just happened?” Hideyoshi asked, his eyes still wide in disbelief.

“I-I am not sure.” Jiro answered. “It…looked like…they were…having fun.”

Sato was coming in from the other doorway Nobunaga and Ava had just run out of. Masamune and Mitsuhide were with her. “Is there a reason Lord Nobunaga and Lord Ava were just running out of here laughing?” She asked.

“Yes that was a rather strange sight.” Mitsuhide agreed.

“I thought it was rather funny…and good to see if I’m being honest.” Masamune said with a grin.

“They were in here eating konpeito and talking, when Hideyoshi and I came in here to bring them some reports.” Jiro answered.

“They didn’t even give us a chance to tell them we had reports.” Hideyoshi added. “And…Lord Ava lectured me…about hiding the konpeito from Lord Nobunaga.”

Sato was looking over at Jiro, a smile on her face. “It seems this alliance has been good for our lord.”

Jiro nodded. “Yes…even before the laughter, she was smiling rather genuinely when we came in.”

“What do you mean?” Masamune asked.

“I haven’t seen Lord Ava looking happy like that since…since the night Lord Riku and Lady Kaede were killed.” Sato said.

Jiro gave her a hard look. “We really shouldn’t be discussing this…”

Sato gave him just as hard of a look. “Come on, we are allies here.” She told him. “Besides, I just… I have a feeling about these guys.”

Jiro sighed. “You and your feelings…”

“They’ve never been wrong.” She told him.

“She was greatly affected by the death of her parents?” Hideyoshi asked.

Jiro sighed as he nodded. “Yeah…they were killed in front of her…both of us.” He said. “Neither of us had made it in time to save them…and the look on her face and the inhuman cry that left her that night…”

“He barely stopped her from killing the leader of the mercenaries.” Sato said. “Granted…he probably got worse once he was brought to me for questioning, but…she hasn’t smiled or laughed since that night.”

“What do you mean? She’s been smiling and laughing a lot since being here.” Masamune countered.

Sato shook her head. “Those aren’t the same smiles and laughter.”

“Yeah, this is the first time…it’s been genuine. It’s the first time she’s seemed…happy.” Jiro added.

“I see.” Hideyoshi replied.

“One could say the same about Lord Nobunaga.” Mitsuhide spoke up. 

Hideyoshi sighed. “I hate to admit it…but yeah. It does seem like whatever is going on between them…is a good thing.”

Sato was looking over at Jiro. “I think…perhaps we should send a letter back home to the council. Have them prepare to have Lord Ava be gone just a bit longer.”

Jiro nodded. “Yes, we should extend our stay…though we do have to make sure she is back in time for the festival.”

“Yeah…that is important.” Sato agreed.

“Festival?” Hideyoshi asked. “And why is her attendance so important?”

“It’s an annual festival our people hold to bring good luck and a good harvest later in the year.” Sato answered. “It’s always done about a month after planting season has begun in the hopes it will bring plenty of rain for the growing season.”

“And they believe that if our lord is not in attendance, we will have a terrible harvest.” Jiro added.

“Interesting.” Mitsuhide said. He was then sharing a look with Hideyoshi and Masamune, the three of them coming to a silent agreement about what they needed to do next.

#ikesen nobunaga #ikemen sengoku nobunaga #nobunaga oda #nobunaga otome #cybird nobunaga #ikemen sengoku #ikesen #ikesen au #ikesen mc #ikesen oc #warlord ava #fanficion #fanfic #fanfic au #au

[aries-writingblog]

Enemy Fire: 6

Summary: There’s a new kid in town, and she’s got a city to usurp.

Pairing: Jason Todd x F. Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: language, violence, arson, threatening language

AN: photos from Pinterest

Jason landed on the rooftop, bracing himself with a hand pressed to the ground. He pushed himself to his feet. Gazing over to the neighboring rooftop.

Empty.

Had he missed her? Or was she hiding and waiting for him to show first?

Scanning the rooftop again, he looked for noticeable traps this time. He couldn’t believe he was giving into her demands this easily.

Endangering his men was one thing, endangering innocents was another.

God, he could still feel Cristy shaking against his chest as she hugged him. Holding tightly, a vain attempt to shake away the terror from the evening.

And for that, this woman would burn.

So far, he’d been entertaining her. Waiting around for her to come to him.

But now she had to go.

She had to go. Out of town, in the harbor, Arkham, in a grave— somewhere other than Gotham City.

Jason leapt from the building ledge and tucked his legs, sticking his landing on the next roof. The roof where their first meeting took place.

Had he taken the time, he would’ve called Roy and Artemis to back him up again; Though some wriggling thought told him she was prepared that day and she would be prepared now.

Jason exhaled, carefully scanning the surroundings.

Last time, she had been using her powers when she arrived. The heat had been intense enough to give him a heat advisory when she came near. This time, he wasn’t sure where she would come from.

He didn’t have to sit in wonder for too long, as the staircase door opened and in walked his mystery woman. His Arsonist.

Dressed in a similar manner as she had been a week earlier, right down to the domino covering her identity.

“You’ve been busy.” He groused, struggling to keep his hands down at his sides.

The rage in his throat nearly clogged his airway, his heart thudding against the cage. Blood pumping adrenaline throughout his veins.

“You weren’t giving me attention.” She warned, a deep frown carving her lips.

He nearly scoffed. Of course she was playing with him. Toying with her food before she snapped, her sharp teeth to burn holes in his flesh.

“Sorry I wasn’t around as much, sugar. But I’m here now.” He assured, easing closer. She seemed unbothered by his decreasing proximity, allowing him to creep in. “What do you want me for?”

“I want to tear your throat out.” She growled.

Jason pulled a tight breath in through his teeth, his chest expanding.

“Yikes. I was hoping something a little less intimate for our second date.”

YN gave a sarcastic nod, a pout on her lips. Her head tilting in consideration of his request.

“Alright.” She agreed, cracking her knuckles. “I’ll settle for your heart, then.”

“Got a mouth on you, hm?” He asked. She only shrugged. Her gaze was almost predatory; Daring him to attack first. “Someone should teach you what to do with it.”

Jason broke out into a sprint across the roof. YN summoned fire to her palms, heaving them at his approaching form. He easily dodged, prepared for her speed.

He closed in, close enough to see her features clearly. The flames quickly spread to engulf her entire body, leaving her form to shimmer like molten lava. His helmet flashed another heat advisory. He ignored it.

She put her palms face down, using fire torque to shoot herself up and out of his reach.

Jason growled, craning his neck back to look at her. She hovered six feet above him.

This was totally cheating, he determined.

YN gathered her power, concentrating it in her hands. She launched double the fire power directly at his chest. Jason dove out of its path, tucking into a roll to escape the flames.

Smoke rose from the tail of his jacket— she had caught part of it in the path of the flames. Scorched, and blackened leather.

“Hey!” Jason called. She paused, hovering mid air. “This really isn’t fair, you know?”

She laughed— a beautifully cruel sound. One that echoed above the still night in the Narrows.

“I’m way past playing fair, Hood.” She crowed. Jason grit his teeth. He was hoping, just this once, that a Gotham villain wouldn’t be completely out of their minds crazy. No such thing, he supposed. “Fine. To make things interesting.”

As soon as her feet touched down, Jason sprinted, shouldering her to the ground. He drew a handgun, aiming for her heart. She reached out, her hand burning bright orange.

She melted the gun barrel, yanking it from his hand and tossing it away. Then she grabbed his ankles, wrapping herself around his legs and shoving him to the ground. She clicked her tongue disapprovingly, pressing her elbow to his stomach.

“If I have to play fair, so do you.” She growled, pressing her hands to his throat. Putting her weight into the center point of her hands, he nearly gagged as she strangled him.

Jason grunted, hooking his knees around her hips, wrestling her into his full control. Grabbing her wrists, he twisted. His body sliding from under hers. Pressing a knee into her back, subsequently, her face into the ground.

“Now, sweetheart,” Jason grunted, struggling to keep hold of her. YN wiggled more, thrashing to free herself. “You’re gonna tell me what it is you want or I’ll slit your throat right here and now.”

“What I want is for you to get off!” She shouted, her feet hitting him repeatedly in the back. His armored suit blocked much of the blows, proving her struggle to be useless. Her hips bucked under his weight, attempting to throw him off instead.

“No, you came to Gotham a month ago and ever since, you’ve been nothing but a pain in my ass.” He spat, pressing harder. YN squirmed, panicking. “So what do you want?”

With a guttural roar, YN clenched her fists tightly. Jason had two seconds to glance down at the energy gathering in her palms. Her skin glowing, underneath nearly golden in color.

Then—

Jason groaned, lifting his head. His ears ringing. YN was lying on the opposite side of the roof, motionless.

His entire suit was speckled with holes, the scent of singed fabric getting through the crack of his helmet.

He started to push himself up, though it felt as if his organs had been melted. He wanted to remain in a puddle on the ground, if it would feel better.

Across the way, YN staggered to her feet, groaning. She was physically unscathed, though he doubted she was even at a quarter capacity power.

He smirked; He was starting to figure her out, and it only took two ass beatings to get it.

She glared in his direction, panting at the exertion it took to keep herself upright.

Jason’s hand fell to his belt, pulling a knife from its holster. YN exhaled, her focus turning inward. She squeezed her fists together tightly.

No luck.

Not even a spark.

Just blood dripping, from the crescent shaped wounds she pressed into her palms. Red Hood was approaching— a wounded stagger toward her. Knife in hand.

Jason’s ears had finally stopped ringing, the spots had disappeared from his vision. His senses were slowly coming back online.

Just in time for a lithe, black object whistled past his ear. Within half a second, she had cried out in pain, her hands coming up to her face. She spun around, holding an arm up to block any more damage.

Two pairs of feet landed to his left. Jason glanced over. Batman and Robin.

Of course.

The woman cursed under her breath, beginning to back away. Jason saw her panic— the instinct to bolt— and lunged across the gap that had been between them. His hand skimmed her ankle as she jumped.

He watched as she controlled her fall with her remaining power; Slowing just enough to clumsily land, tucking into a roll.

Jason cursed, losing his view of her, as she ducked behind miscellaneous discarded objects.

He scanned the alleyway for another minute, finally pounding his palms against the ledge and spinning around.

Bruce and Damian had been standing back, observing him.

“I had that handled.” He barked, yanking his helmet off.

“Clearly.” Damian scoffed, giving a precursory glance up and down his body. “That why you have scorch marks on your suit?”

“Hazard of the job.” Jason muttered, examining the cracks in his helmet.

She had done real damage to his entire suit. And for the first time, in a very long time, his whole body ached.

Bruce sighed, having already been prepared for his son’s stubbornness. The longer he looked at Jason in the domino mask, the further back in his memory he went. All the way back to the scrawny little boy who had been stealing his tires.

To cradling his body after the explosion.

“All we knew is that she’s been running around Gotham stirring up trouble recently.” He stated, explaining his reasoning for approaching.

“In my territories,” Jason insisted. He dropped his arm, holding his helmet by his side. Damian rolled his eyes, breaking away from the group. “We have a deal, Bruce.”

“And if you need help?”

“Then I’ll call help.” Jason shot back. Bruce clenched his jaw. He knew the kind of help he would call— the same ones that were always getting themselves out of trouble they created. “Until then, trust that I have this handled.”

Bruce exhaled, pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose. Alfred’s words rang through his ears.

‘Trust in them more often, and you may see them begin to trust you.’

He opened his eyes, landing on Jason again.

“Okay. But she can’t go around setting more fires.” Bruce told him.

Jason rolled his eyes; It felt like Batman was compromising with him, like he was still a kid and Bruce was compromising to keep him placated.

Nevertheless, he got what he wanted. Which was for the Bat team to back off.

“She won’t have to anymore. She has my attention now.” Jason explained.

Bruce had gathered half as much from his own research, and he doubted Jason would give him any more information.

“What does she want?” Damian murmured.

Both men turned to see Damian, staring down at the splattered blood drops the woman had left behind.

Jason clenched his jaw.

All of the fighting and scratching he had done, only for a few meager drops of blood.

“My head, I think.”

YN groaned, her stomach heaving one last time. Crouched beside a wall, her forearms propped on the brick, she panted. Attempting to stave off another wave of nausea.

Sometimes she thought her abilities sucked.

Like being unable to wear long sleeves sometimes, or during the summer, when it was blazing outside and she was a million degrees inside. Or those few times she sneezed and caught the rug on fire.

Or, when she overused her powers and ended up with nausea, vomiting, and severe heartburn.

She loathed heatwaves. They were always her last resort. There had been so many other ways to escape Hood’s control, but in the moment she couldn’t think. Her body had been on autopilot.

It was a wonder she made it back to her apartment in the first place.

The fatigue had clung to her ankles, asking her to sit and sleep with every step.

YN pulled herself up by the bathroom counter, her body aching at the exertion. She stared at the reflection in the mirror.

Her fingers came up to her cheek. Blood still seeped from the cut. A horizontal slash across her left cheekbone, underneath her eye, trailing to the bridge of her nose.

Fucking Bats.

How many contacts did Red Hood have? And weren’t crime lords and vigilantes on different teams?

Trailing out of the bathroom, YN stumbled to the living room. She crashed onto the couch, wincing at the discomfort.

Her hand reached out to snag the leather jacket off the table; Digging through her pocket, she found the rectangular item she had managed to lift from his belt.

Was she stooping to theft from her enemy? Yes.

It wasn’t like he would miss the item. It was on the very back of his belt. She had already stolen some of his other inventory and he had yet to question her about it.

Turning it over in her hand, she took note of the three buttons and the small screen.

A pager. For all his technology and advanced weaponry, Red Hood still carried a pager?

Her hand dropped, head tilting back against the pillow. Her eyes drooped lower with each blink.

She would save the mystery for tomorrow, now she just wanted sleep.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x f!reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #jason todd fic #enemy fire

[brickston69]

If only...

I cannot claim ownership of this story...but it is a fantasy that move me out of self-bondage sessions and into my dreams...an unexpected turn of events but what I've fantasized about since I can remember.

My new lakeside property was a small cottage – nothing too beer commercial-ish, but it would serve for weekends of partying and enjoying some time away from the city. I was lucky in that the lake was small and there were no powerboats on it. Most of the land on the lake, as well as the surrounding area was all crown land, so I didn’t worry much about trespassers or anyone else for that matter. The road in was a long dirt road that took almost 30 minutes of driving before it even hit one of the main back roads. My only neighbor was all the way across the lake, albeit in a rather sizable mansion that towered over the northern view of the water. I had spent the first few months fixing up the place – it was old and moldy but with a few weeks’ worth of work looked almost brand new.

It was about the start of June, when we had one of our usual Northern-Ontario heavy rainstorms. It started with huge gusts of wind, and was followed by a night of spectacular rain, thunder and lightning. The power went off relatively early, so I spent most of the night watching the thunder from my porch before I got cold and went to bed. I loved the sound of the rain rattling on the roof, and the thunder from inside my warm blankets.

Waking up in the morning, however, it became clear that the rain had been more fierce than I thought – there were branches and leaves everywhere – clearly the trees had gotten quite the shake. The power was still out, and taking a walk up the road, I could see that the power lines had been absolutely felled by several trees which had been completely knocked over. The was no way to drive over them either, and it would be several solid hours of walking before I would see another vehicle, let alone be in cell phone range.

Then I thought of my neighbor, his house used a separate road, and he might still have power. At the very least he might have a chainsaw that I could use to cut the logs off the road. I took a walk all the way around the property to his side of the lake. As I got closer I saw repeated “no trespassing” signs all over the property. A few hundred meters out, when the property opened up into a clearing, the huge looming mansion came into view. There was a van parked out front as well as a truck, so I could only assume that the owner was home, but the lights were all dark. Even worse, a large barbed wire fence surrounded the area. A sign on it read that it was electrified.

I followed the fence to the front gate and saw that there was a large intercom. I tried hitting the buzzer but no sound came out of it. I thought perhaps his power was off so I tried touching the gate. No effect!

Suddenly, I heard a strange moan come from the direction of the house. I looked around and saw a dark figure come stumbling out of the front door. It seemed to be hugging itself and walking in a stilted fashion.

“Hello?” I shouted.

Another moan responded, and as the figure came closer I could see that he was dressed head to toe in black rubber. He appeared to be in a black rubber straitjacket, and a muzzle covered his face. He “ran” directly up to the gate and did a strange little dance.

“Are you ok?”, I asked.

He shook his head, no.

“Do you need help?”

He nodded.

I opened the gate, and he sped past me, down the road, back towards my place. I caught up with him and slowed him down. I tried to unbuckle the muzzle but found that it was actually locked on! From the looks of it… all the rubber gear he was wearing was held in place with padlocks. I struggled to see if I could open it, but to no avail.

“Its locked – are there keys inside?”

He shook his head violently. I could see panic in the eyes, this guy really wanted out.

“Ok… I might have some tools back at my place, are you ok to go in there?”

The rubber guy nodded quickly.

I brought him into the cottage and quickly shut the door behind me. I took a brief look outside but no one seemed to be around. I guided him to a chair and sat him down. I put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, and said: “I’ll be back in a minute.”

The second my hand touched the rubber I noticed how smooth it felt and I suddenly was aware of the odor of latex just steaming off of the poor guy. I quickly snapped back into reality, realizing that I had been gently stroking his shoulder, taking in the texture, and that he was probably terribly frightened already. Being in such a vulnerable position, he probably would not appreciate it in the slightest.

“You’re going to be OK,” I said reassuringly, hoping that would ease him a bit.

I pushed other thoughts aside and ran down to the basement to find some tools. I opened up the toolbox and immediately found a pair of scissors, I held them for a second and then thought that maybe he wouldn’t want me cutting him out of that outfit, but rather would want me to get the locks off. No way would I be able to pick it, but I did have a set of bolt cutters that would work. I grabbed them from the wall and ran upstairs.

“Hold still a second, man,” I said. “I’ll get you out of there!”

I first clipped the lock holding his muzzle on, and unstrapped it from his face. I then unbuckled the ball gag underneath.

“Thanks so much!” he blurted out. “Please… get me out!”

“Ok… no problem, I’m working on it.”

I hastily clipped the rest of the locks running down the straitjacket, the ankle restraints, and the harness that I discovered he was wearing underneath it all. I piled it all on the table next to me. He stood up and stretched, the tight rubber creaking all around him. He pulled the mask off and I could see that he was no older than I was, maybe about 27 or 28.

“Please get the zipper in the back,” He said, and I unzipped the suit. He pulled his shoulders and arms out, sweat spilling out onto the floor. He must have been in there for some time. Gloves, boots, even rubber toed socks came off and were piled together. He stood before me naked, drenched in sweat.

“Thank you… I thought I’d never get out of there,” he sighed, sounding quite relieved. “My name is Cameron.”

“I’m Chris,” I held my hand out and we shook. “Have a seat, I’ll get you a towel and some clothes. There’s a shower in the bathroom if you like.” I came back a moment later with a towel and a set of jeans and a t-shirt.

“Again, thanks. Do you have a phone?”

I shook my head, no. “The storm took out the phone and cable. I was without power until this morning.”

“Shit,” he muttered. “I’ve been pretty incommunicado for the last month. I imagine there are some people pretty worried about me.”

“Oh?” I was burning with curiosity already, but didn’t want to push. “Is everything ok, I mean… well this just isn’t a usual way of meeting people. Do you live down the lake?”

Cameron wrapped the towel around his waist. “I’m fine – really. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I can give you a ride into town after you shower up, we’ll have to wait until the county guys get here to clear the road. There’re some fallen trees blocking it.”

Cameron nodded carefully, looking out of a nearby window. “That would be great. Sorry if I seem a bit sketchy.”

“No problem. Those clothes should fit you just fine – you look like you’re pretty much the same size as me. They’re just old clothes for kicking around in so it’s really no problem.”

I put the pot on for coffee and then saw him to the bathroom. He closed the door and the shower started running. Where did this guy come from? Obviously he was up to some kind of bondage thing in that outfit, and he seemed a bit embarrassed. He really didn’t need to – I had seen pictures like that on the Internet and was highly curious about it. He did also seem a bit scared, and that only served to deepen my curiosity. I had never even seen my neighbor and this guy didn’t seem to live on the lake. This raised the question if maybe another person was back at the house, also in some kind of trouble.

I walked into the kitchen and poured myself a cup of coffee. Sipping at it I returned to the table and saw the pile of black, slimy rubber lying flaccidly on the table. I grabbed the suit and shook it out a bit. The suit made a low rumbling noise, almost a little like thunder. Sweat dripped out of the legs and dribbled onto my shoe. The scent of sweat and latex together was overwhelming, slightly sickly but inviting and familiar. I could feel an erection forming. I slid my hand into the armpit of the suit just letting it glide a little bit into the arm. Lubed with sweat I could feel the now cold, smooth rubber gripping around my hand and forearm, I felt as if I could just slide right in, it was practically sucking me right in –

I heard a cough from nearby and saw Cameron standing there. He was freshened up considerably and now dressed in normal clothes. He had a bit of a smirk on his face. I turned a bit red and tried to pull my arm out quickly as I lay the suit back on the table. Half of it flopped down but it was obviously stuck to my forearm.

“I made coffee,” I said quite feebly, obviously embarrassed.

Cameron chuckled a little. “It’s ok. I get it.”

He walked into the kitchen and found the coffee pot and mug that I had set out for him. He poured himself a cup. He took a sip. “Are you into rubber?”

“Well… I mean I’ve seen photos on the Internet,” I waffled, not sure what to say.

“What sort of photos?” he grinned.

“Photos of men looking pretty much like you did a few minutes ago,” I blushed. “Some of the heavier ones where they looked like the gimp in Pulp Fiction, I always wondered what it was like to be that guy.“

“Have you ever done anything with it?” Cameron casually sipped at his coffee.

I thought about it for a second. I had spent a fair bit of time perusing some fetish sites on some lonely nights, but never really thought seriously about it. “Well I guess that I thought that it was something that weird people did. Dangerous people. I wasn’t ready to find out the hard way that I couldn’t trust them.”

“Understandable…. believe me… completely understandable,” he smiled an odd smile, and sat down at the table, looking casually out the window, across the lake to my neighbor’s house. “You can try that stuff on if you like.”

I pulled my hand out quickly and it felt cold in the open air. “I couldn’t really…”

“Why not?” he frowned, as if I said something completely absurd. “Listen man, you can have it. All of it. I’m not going to put it on again.”

I should have sensed something was wrong, but my ears were hot and just hearing the idea of being inside the suit made me instantly rock hard. My cock was begging to be let out of my jeans. Seeing Cameron wearing my jeans and a t-shirt, the same muscular build, the same height, he was obviously my size, I would have no problem fitting into the rubber. I thought about how he looked when I first laid eyes on him, embodying a fantasy that I barely knew I had. Now the idea was just burning a hole right through me.

Cameron must have been reading my mind. “Look, we’re obviously the same size. Just go for it, I’ll help you out.”

I hesitated for a second, but before I could stop myself I was peeling off my shirt. “So… what is your story anyway? How did you end up here?’

Cameron took another glance across the lake. For a split second I thought I saw someone walking on the property, but I wasn’t sure. Cameron didn’t seem concerned.

“Well, I work at a bar in Toronto, I’m going to school part time. Pretty regular sort of life really… as you might have guessed I also had an interest in fetish and bondage. Just like you, I read about it on the internet and became a little obsessed. Mostly just obsessed with looking at pictures and reading stories.”

I peeled off my underwear, revealing my hard cock dripping with precum and picked up the suit. Cameron stood up picking something up off the table. “You should really put on the cock sheath. Trust me, your cock feels better in the suit surrounded by another layer of rubber. Here, I’ll help you out.”

The rubber sheath slid right over my package and tightened like a cock ring at the base. I bobbed my cock up and down once, and felt it grow inside. The rubber confines stretched around my member, looking sleek and black. Cameron then picked up the suit, shook it back out into shape and held it open before me.

“Climb on in!” He chirped with a smile. I put one foot in, and then the other. Cameron pulled it up around me, and I could feel the perfect fit sliding up my legs. An electric tingle ran up my body as it hugged me tight. “…so anyway… I actually lurked on a couple of the sites for a long time. I didn’t post a photo for almost a year, and when I did I immediately got tons of hits.”

“I don’t blame them. You’re pretty cute.”

“Heh thanks. You’re not bad yourself, man,” Cameron said as he tugged the rubber up onto my hips. “There really isn’t much of a rubber community in Toronto – from the internet it seems like it’s all in other countries. I really sold myself on the idea that I wanted to try experiencing a true, inescapable session of total rubber enclosure and slavery, at least for a little while. Really, finding sane people into that kind of thing is really hard.”

I slid my arms into the sleeves and pushed forward. The rubber came up onto my shoulders and greased with sweat started clinging to my chest. Cameron zipped up the back and the entire suit seemed to tighten around my back, shoulders and neck. I moved around a bit, my skin feeling more alive than I had ever known it. I felt ready to come right through the suit and knock a wall down with the force of it.

“This is awesome!”

“I know!” Cameron laughed. I started feeling myself all over. “Have a seat!”

I sat down and Cameron picked the socks off the table. “Trust me, it’s better when it’s all over you. If you like that – you’re gonna love this.”

Cameron started working the rubber socks onto my feet. He then slid the boots on. They took a minute to lace up as they ran practically up my entire shin. A leather ankle restraint was then buckled on overtop. I stood up, walking around, feeling it move on my body.

“Anyway, so I finally talked to this one guy online. Sounds like he’s a dedicated rubberist. He definitely had a ton of gear in his photos. Sounded sane and definitely wanted to get into a lot of the same stuff that I was into. So I arranged a time and place to meet – local bar, nothing fancy.”

Cameron worked the tight elbow length gloves onto my arms and buckled the wrist restraints on. He picked up the harness: “You want to try this?”

Thinking of the many photos I’d seen of rubber gimps that were clad in a similar harness how could I say no? I wasn’t locked in after all. I nodded my head. He held the harness out and I stepped into it. Cameron pulled it up and started strapping it on me.

“Awesome. Man, this looks great on you, I think it looks even better than it looked on me,” Cameron said, admiring his handiwork. “So I met this guy, and turned out to be pretty down to earth, used to be a doctor, now he just plays the stocks all the time – never loses. We met at a hotel a couple of times and he let me experiment with different types of gear, seemed really enthusiastic, and I’ll admit he pushed my limits in the best way possible.”

“Sounds great! Where do I find this guy?” I joked. Cameron pulled the mask from the table, and without asking stepped behind me and pulled it over my head. The feeling of it tightening around my face was indescribable. I felt my identity slip away. “I have got to see a mirror.”

“One second, you need a finishing touch,” Cameron grabbed the collar from the table and buckled it onto my neck. I felt instantly more submissive, like a rubbered thing. I walked to a mirror hanging in the doorway and was surprised at the black alien figure staring back at me. I thought I couldn’t get any hornier, but my cock just seemed to grow harder and harder. I had become that rubber gimp I always fantasized about. Well, sort of… no one was tying me up in this gear.

“You look really great,” Cameron exclaimed. Even he seemed excited. I was running my rubbered hands all over my body. I couldn’t believe the sensation. I wandered back by the table. A few stray pieces of gear still lay on the table, one of them quite formidable. I took a cautious breath.

“Oh, the straitjacket,” Cameron nodded. He picked up and held it up. “Maybe you don’t want to get into that. It’s a bit much all at once. You can kind of get into a bit of a frenzy where you just want everything on you at once.”

“I’ll say!”  I laughed.

Cameron took another glance out the window. “What the heck right? It’s not like I’m going to go anywhere on you. You said yourself the road is blocked.”

I shrugged, thinking far too much with my pecker and not thinking for a second about the dangerous territory I was skirting. I held my arms out and he draped the straight jacket over them. He moved around the back and zipped up the rear of the jacket, and started pulling buckles on the back tight.

“Where was I? Oh yeah… so finally we meet one weekend and he gets me totally rubbered up, head to toe, pretty much like you are now. This was the usual for us by this point. Only instead of going to the hotel, we decided to go to his house, where he said he had more gear.”

Cameron pulled my arms across my body, buckling them in place. A strap came over the front providing them no movement. A crotch strap tightened on my inner thighs and there was no way I could get out of this jacket on my own. My temperature seemed to skyrocket and I could feel my own sweat filling the suit. I tried to move but all I felt was rubber grinding on rubber. I was positively elated.

“So we get up there and he leads me down to his basement and it’s a dungeon. I mean a real dungeon. If there’s a weird bondage contraption you’ve seen online – he’s got it. Most importantly it’s got a real cell and the door opens only with a key code that he knows, some kind of electric, digital lock thing. I was totally excited for a real bondage session with this guy; I’d been having such a great time. Then he starts talking about control, and taking total control over me, making me a 24/7 rubber slave. I don’t mean starting slow and working up to 24/7 – I mean he wanted to start at 24/7.  I was supposed to be less than a slave – and that over time, we’d work up that.”

Suddenly I started coming back to reality. Why did I feel like his story was taking a turn for the worst? “Cameron, I don’t think I like where this is going…”

Cameron pushed me towards the couch, carrying the rest of the gear with him. He sat me down.

“Well, for starters…” He pinched my nose unexpectedly Instinctively, I opened my mouth. He forced the rubber ball gag in and buckled it behind my head. I tried pushing it out with my tongue but to no avail. I tried to sit up but Cameron sat on my lap, pinning me. He slipped the muzzle over my head and quickly strapped it all on tightly. I shook my head side to side screaming into the gag, but it was obvious that the sound was far too muffled. Cameron grabbed my chin and held it still.

“Shhhhhh… You see I didn’t want to be a 24/7 anything except being a student. It was way too much, but he never even gave me the opportunity to say ‘no’. I was his rubber THING for over a month, held in that dungeon. Oh, there was some horny times, yeah, but I wanted my life back. I had almost given up hope on the idea when the power went out. He must have been asleep when it happened. I think some kind of safety feature opened up the electronic locks and I was able to walk right out the door – and into your arms. This is the first time I’ve worn anything but rubber in all that time. Oh, and since you asked where you could find this guy – well, he’s looking in the window right now!” Startled, I looked behind me to the window out to the deck and saw a tall, muscular man, probably in his late forties. He was dressed like a biker but all in rubber, aviator sunglasses hiding his eyes. His face was cold and expressionless. Cameron pulled me up to my feet.

“Boy,” the man’s voice was deep and commanding. I got an instant chill. “Did you really think you’d get away?”

Cameron stood his ground. “Sir – I’m done. I don’t want this anymore. It was dumb luck that I got away and you won’t get me that easily again without a real fight. I’m not stupid – I won’t go telling anyone about this. I just want to go home and go back to my life. I’ll call it a fun misadventure.”

“You think it’s just that easy, Boy?” the man snarled.

“Maybe not. Maybe I’ll want to come back to you. I doubt it. I’ve had enough,” Cameron’s voice trembled. He too was genuinely afraid.  Me?  I was shaking. “I’ve found a replacement though. He’s hungry for it – more than I was, I think. I’ll give him to you and that makes me an accomplice. Then we’re both happy. You know I can’t turn you in, and I can leave.”

I started shrieking hysterically inside my rubber prison. I tried to make a break for it, running past the rubber man as he stepped into my cottage. He snapped an arm out and caught me by the neck. His other hand went directly to my cock and he gripped my still hard member.

“Mmmm,” he growled. “He’s horny. Very horny.”

“You see?” Cameron pleaded. “He’s perfect, Sir. Take him with you – he can be your new slave or whatever the fuck it is you want. I’m going to take a long walk into town, and catch a bus back to Toronto. You’ll have your hands full starting your training all over again.”

The man sniffed me like the bouquet of a fine wine. “Ok boy. You have a deal. Don’t think I won’t come looking for you. We have unfinished business.”

The man pulled a leash out of his pocket and clipped it to the collar. He started pulling me out the door, and down the road to his house. “Alright boy, I guess it’s you and me now. You and I are going to have to work very hard over the next couple of days sorting a few things out.”

I pulled as best I could but I had no leverage at all. What was even worse was that a part of me I think really wanted to go with him. Either way, I was about to find out the rubber horrors that lay beyond the dark windows of that mansion by the lake.

I was practically dragged by the neck all the way down the road. Completely unable even to look back to see the safety of my home quickly falling away from me, nor able to see the treacherous man that I tried to help, I could only focus instead on the house quickly looming over me. The windows of the house seemed black and empty, hungry even and I was utterly panicked but unable to fight in any way at all.

As we entered the front gate, my captor paused for a moment to shut the gate and flipped a switch. There was a humming noise and I could only assume that the fence was now electrified. Presumably it had been knocked out by the same storm that had affected the power at my cottage earlier. Even if I was able to get out of my rubber prison, there was at least one more obstacle that I would have to plan to get past.

We entered through the front door, and I only had a few seconds to notice the opulence of the interior – clearly my captor was a man of considerable means given the nature of the interior décor. It was a mountain cabin design, riddled with pictures of lakes, pine trees, moose and fishing poles – somewhere beyond the scent of rubber I could smell the distinct odor of fine cigars and mahogany. All this was moot however as we raced through the first floor directly to a large metal door opening to a cellar. My captor punched in an elaborate code into a keypad on the door, and it unlocked with a heavy click. There followed another such door at a vestibule before entering the rest of the basement.

There were only a few rooms with the doors open where I could make out what was inside. I one, I could see all kinds of restraints, as well as rubber and leather clothing, gas masks and boots. Another was a gym of some kind although I didn’t recognize all of the equipment. The man was huge however, and it wouldn’t surprise me if he had a very particular regimen. We stopped at a door that opened into what could only be described as a cell. Inside were only a steel toilet, a steel sink, and a bench with a mattress, which also had a rubber mattress cover on it. I was sat down and my collar was clipped to a hook on the wall.

“Stay right here, boy,” the man said, and walked quickly out of the room.

I could hear him shuffling with something down the hall so I immediately started thrashing about trying to release myself. It was to no avail. The straitjacket provided me with absolutely no leverage at all, and the best that I could do was feel my rubbered arms sliding about in the smooth interior. There was no way to generate enough force or violence to be able to escape. I was completely trapped inside. I gave up and sat back panting for a few minutes before he returned carrying a box with several items inside.

He first dumped several padlocks out onto the bench beside me and locked the restraints on my legs before locking them together. Another lock was attached to my collar.

“You are not going to be able to walk anywhere in a hurry and your collar is locked to the wall,” my captor said. “I am going to take off your straitjacket; if you make any trouble you will regret it very quickly. Nod if you understand.”

I nodded. This man wasn’t going to take any chances and I would have to wait until later for a slip-up. He unbuckled the straitjacket. He then applied locks to each of the buckles on my harness. My wrist restraints were removed but quickly replaced with a pair of rubber mitts rendering my hands completely useless. They too, were then locked together. He lit a cigar and stood before me, admiring his work.

“Alright boy, when you earn the right to speak, you will call me ‘Master’ or ‘Sir’”, he commanded. “I will call you whatever the fuck I want. As you may have guessed, yes, I kept your friend Cameron here for some time. He might have told you it was against his will but I can assure you that he enjoyed it far too much for it to be involuntary. From the size of your hard-on I can only assume that you are much the same.

Number one, I have fixed the fail-safe in my backup generator, so even if the power is out, the doors will remain locked. They will not open automatically as before. The electric fence outside will remain electrified. Furthermore…”

“Master” removed a remote control from his pocket and pressed a button. An intense searing shock came from my collar and I was instantly immobilized. I screamed quickly but the cry was severely muffled by my gag and muzzle.

“I carry this with me at all times. Now that the power is back up on the fence you will be unable to walk more than 25 meters beyond without it triggering automatically. I have it set currently to the medium setting; however, walking outside the perimeter will automatically trigger it at the highest.

I have always wanted to have the ultimate rubber companion and have for years thought about the training and conditioning that I wanted it to have. I had already started an aggressive program with Cameron, but he managed to escape before it took hold, thanks to nothing more than a simple power failure. I have already taken steps to ensure that it won’t happen again.  And I’ll get him back here soon.

You might be able to escape from your restraints down here, but before you even reach the upstairs, you will be unable to make it past the electric locks on the doors. Do not think that I don’t want to have you upstairs with me – there is much that I want you to do up there, but for now this will be your world.

Right now you are only to be an object of pure rubbered physicality. Your body is mine to use and shape as I see fit. You are a pure Gimp for nothing more than my enjoyment and your training. I expect your obedience to grow.  I will start small, and eventually you will be in a position to start obeying more complex commands, in which case I will start training you as my Pup. If you can learn the kind of devotion and obedience that I expect of a dog successfully then I may teach you how to be a Slave worthy of serving my needs, yet worthy of some greater levels of autonomy and expression, a chance to have some of yourself back. If you can earn those privileges you will eventually become my Boy, hopefully a rubber man who has finally realized all that I can teach and give him, and completely willing to continue to submit to my authority.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. I am speaking of your achievements possibly years down the line and you have only been here a few minutes. I’m sure that right now you are terrified and alone – and rightly so, this is an incredibly fearsome first step you have taken and not of your own will. I have some further preparations to make, so there is no time like the present to begin your conditioning. Come with me…”

He clipped a leash to my neck and unclipped me from the wall. We shuffled down the hall to a room full of different racks, elaborate chairs, slings, and crosses. I was sat down into a fearsome leather barber’s chair covered in straps. The D-rings on my collar, harness and restraints were all clipped in place and additional restraints added on. All the while my mind was racing – he intended me to stay here for years – forever really from the sounds of things, and indulge in some perverse education of his? I wanted to cry, I had never felt so helpless before.

“Now, I am going to get a look at you. Don’t even try to speak or I will activate the collar.”

Master removed the muzzle, gag and mask. My head was dripping with sweat, it ran down my face and into my eyes. Master dried my head with a towel.

“Excellent. A fair trade for Cameron if I may say so. You are a good looking boy, and I must say that rubber really does become you. Good thing, as it is all you are going to be wearing for some time. Cameron had been wearing almost nothing but, for over a month – you should expect much longer before your skin touches anything else.”

Master ran his hand through my hair, frowning.

“This hair is far too long, though, and not something that you have earned. It will have to go.”

From nearby, master pulled a set of clippers and without hesitation set to buzzing all of the hair from my head, long locks of it falling pathetically into my lap. These were quickly brushed aside and he swept up. He then held up a mirror for me to see. I looked up to see a close buzz cut. I could hardly recognize myself at all. For a second I thought that someone else was looking back. He was right though, seeing myself bound completely in rubber my horniness came back with a vengeance. I’ll admit, I’d fantasized about similar scenarios, but the reality of it was utterly terrifying. I blamed it on blind nervous energy. I’d heard before about soldiers that experienced erections during battle for the same reason.

Next, he forced a gas mask with a rubber hood over my face. It was already lubed on the inside allowing it to slide directly on, despite how tight it was. Some kind of internal gag forced its way into my mouth. It was pumped up and I could feel the bit swelling in my mouth. Tubes fit directly into my nostrils. Earbuds almost naturally fell into my ear cavity and a white noise could be heard starting up. Master unzipped my cock and placed what felt like a large suction device of some kind up to it, with a slow rhythm starting to slowly jerk me off. A trolley with several TV monitors was rolled up in front of me and switched on. A sweet scent started to pump into the gas mask, though the air seemed clearer somehow. The screens flickered to life with videos of rubber and bondage pornography playing on each.

Master’s voice came into the earbuds.

“Just lie back and enjoy the show, boy. Don’t fight it. I will be monitoring closely. This is the first of many such sessions that I will expect you to complete, so try to adjust yourself accordingly. I will be back soon – don’t worry, I have your breathing on a monitor which will alert me if there is a problem.”

Scene after scene of erotic rubber pleasure played before me. The suction of the device rose and fell, never quite seeming to bring me to climax. I would get so close and then be denied as the system slowed itself down. A constant mesmerizing beat played slowly in my ear.

Even more horrifyingly, scenes showing removal from bondage, removal of rubber, or even normal sex, normal life were met with a series of painful shocks from the collar. My earbuds would play a harsh, erratic tone. I made the connection quickly – I was to associate only pleasure with being a rubber gimp, and a complete aversion to anything else. I was only to enjoy being his rubber plaything, and any other thoughts were to be pushed aside.

The first of many such sessions? How many is many? A month was not enough to keep Cameron from escaping and that was only after he was given a miracle opportunity of an elaborate security breaking down. Surely Master would be planning for this too – so how long would this phase of training continue? A month? Two months? A year?

The shocks ended and the slow jerking off began again. The cycle continued for what seemed like hours… how long was this to go on? I completely lost track of time and could concentrate only on the sheer pleasure of my situation.

[drysuitdivingdrone1950]

MANSION BY THE LAKE

Chapter one- The Trade Off

My new lakeside property was a small cottage – nothing too beer commercial-ish, but it would serve for weekends of partying and enjoying some time away from the city. I was lucky in that the lake was small and there were no powerboats on it. Most of the land on the lake, as well as the surrounding area was all crown land, so I didn’t worry much about trespassers or anyone else for that matter. The road in was a long dirt road that took almost 30 minutes of driving before it even hit one of the main back roads. My only neighbor was all the way across the lake, albeit in a rather sizable mansion that towered over the northern view of the water. I had spent the first few months fixing up the place – it was old and moldy but with a few weeks’ worth of work looked almost brand new.

It was about the start of June, when we had one of our usual Northern-Ontario heavy rainstorms. It started with huge gusts of wind, and was followed by a night of spectacular rain, thunder and lightning. The power went off relatively early, so I spent most of the night watching the lightening from my porch before I got cold and went to bed. I loved the sound of the rain rattling on the roof, and the thunder from inside my warm blankets.

Waking up in the morning, however, it became clear that the rain storm had been fiercer than I thought – there were branches and leaves everywhere – clearly the trees had gotten quite the shake. The power was still out, and taking a walk up the road, I could see that the power lines had been absolutely felled by several trees which had been completely knocked over. There was no way to drive over them either, and it would be several solid hours of walking before I would see another vehicle, let alone be in cell phone range.

Then I thought of my neighbor, his house used a separate road, and he might still have power. At the very least he might have a chainsaw that I could use to cut the logs off the road. I took a walk all the way around the property to his side of the lake. As I got closer, I saw repeated “no trespassing” signs all over the property. A few hundred meters out, when the property opened up into a clearing, the huge looming mansion came into view. There was a van parked out front as well as a truck, so I could only assume that the owner was home, but the lights were all dark. Even worse, a large barbed wire fence surrounded the area. A sign on it read that it was electrified.

I followed the fence to the front gate and saw that there was a large intercom. I tried hitting the buzzer but no sound came out of it. I thought perhaps his power was off so I tried touching the gate. No effect!

Suddenly, I heard a strange moan come from the direction of the house. I looked around and saw a dark figure come stumbling out of the front door. It seemed to be hugging itself and walking in a stilted fashion.

“Hello?”, I shouted.

Another moan responded, and as the figure came closer, I could see that he was dressed head to toe in black rubber. He appeared to be in a black rubber straitjacket, and a muzzle covered his face. He “ran” directly up to the gate and did a strange little dance.

“Are you ok?”, I asked.

He shook his head, no.

“Do you need help?”

He nodded affirmatively.

I opened the gate, and he sped out of there, past me, down the road, back towards my place. I caught up with him and slowed him down. I tried to unbuckle the muzzle but found that it was actually locked on! From the looks of it… all the rubber gear he was wearing was held in place with locks. I struggled to see if I could open it, but to no avail.

“It’s locked – are there keys inside?”

He shook his head violently. I could see panic in the eyes, this guy really wanted out.

“Ok… I might have some tools back at my place, are you ok to go in there?”

The rubber guy nodded quickly.

I brought him into the cottage and quickly shut the door behind me. I took a brief look outside but no one seemed to be around. I guided my guest to a chair and sat him down. I put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, and said: “I’ll be back in a minute.”

The second my hand touched the rubber I noticed how smooth it felt and I suddenly was aware of the odor of latex just steaming off of the poor guy. I quickly snapped back into reality, realizing that I had been gently stroking his shoulder, taking in the texture, and that he was probably terribly frightened already. Being in such a vulnerable position, he probably would not appreciate it in the slightest.

“You’re going to be OK,” I said reassuringly, hoping that would ease him a bit.

I pushed other thoughts aside and ran down to the basement to find some tools. I opened up the toolbox and immediately found a pair of scissors, I held them for a second and then thought that maybe he wouldn’t want me cutting him out of that outfit, but rather would want me to get the locks off. No way would I be able to pick it, but I did have a set of bolt cutters that would work. I grabbed them from the wall and ran upstairs.

“Hold still a second, bud,” I said. “I’ll have you out of there in a jiffy!”

I first clipped the lock holding his muzzle on, and unstrapped it from his face. I then unbuckled the ball gag underneath.

“Thanks so much!” he blurted out. “Please… get me out of this thing!”

“Ok… no problem, I’m working on it.”

I hastily clipped the rest of the locks running down the straitjacket, the ankle restraints, and the harness that I discovered he was wearing underneath it all. I piled it all on the table next to me. My guest stood up and stretched, the tight rubber creaking all around him. He pulled the mask off and I could see that he was no older than I was, at the most 27 or 28.

“Please get the zipper in the back,” he said, and I unzipped the suit. He pulled his shoulders and arms out, sweat spilling out onto the floor. He must have been in there for some time. Gloves, boots, rubber toed socks, even a cock and ball sheath all came off and were piled together. He stood before me naked, drenched in sweat.

“Thank you… I thought I’d never get out of there,” he sighed, sounding quite relieved. “My name is Matt.”

“Ok Matt, I’m Ryan,” I held my hand out and we shook. “Have a seat, I’ll get you a towel and some clothes. There’s a shower in the bathroom if you like.” I came back a moment later with a towel and a set of jeans and a t-shirt.

“Again, thanks. Do you have a phone?”

I shook my head, no. “The storm took out the phone and cable. I was without power since this morning.”

“Shit,” he muttered. “I’ve been pretty incommunicado for the last month. I imagine there are some people pretty worried about me.”

“Oh?” I was burning with curiosity already, but didn’t want to push. “Is everything ok, I mean… well this just isn’t a usual way of meeting people. Do you live down the lake?”

Matt wrapped the towel around his waist. “I’m fine – really. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I would give you a ride into town after you shower up, but we’ll have to wait until the provincial guys get here to clear the road, I’m afraid. There’s some fallen trees blocking it.”

Matt nodded carefully, taking a look out of a nearby window. “That would be great. Sorry if I seem a bit sketchy.”

“No problem. Those clothes should fit you just fine – you look like you’re pretty much the same size as me. They’re just old clothes for kicking around in so it’s really no problem.”

I put the pot on for coffee and then saw him to the bathroom. He closed the door and the shower started running. Where did this guy come from? Obviously, he was up to some kind of bondage thing in that outfit, and he seemed a bit embarrassed about it. He really didn’t need to be – I had seen pictures like that on the Internet and was highly curious about it. He did also seem a bit scared, and that only served to deepen my curiosity. I had never even met my neighbor and this guy didn’t seem to live on the lake. This raised the question if maybe another person was back at the house, perhaps also in some kind of trouble.

I walked into the kitchen and poured myself a cup of joe. Sipping at it I returned to the table and saw the pile of black, slimy rubber lying flaccidly on the table. I grabbed the suit and shook it out a bit. As the suit made a low rumbling noise, almost a little like thunder. Sweat dripped out of the legs and dribbled onto my shoe. The scent of sweat and latex together was overwhelming, slightly sickly but inviting and familiar. I could feel an erection forming. I slid my hand into the armpit of the suit just letting it glide a little bit into the arm. Lubed with sweat I could feel the now cold, smooth rubber gripping around my hand and forearm, I felt as if I could just slide right in, it was practically sucking me right in –

I heard a cough from nearby and saw Matt standing there. He was freshened up considerably and now dressed in normal clothes. He had a bit of a smirk on his face. I turned a bit red and tried to pull my arm out quickly as I lay the suit back on the table. Half of it flopped down but it was obviously stuck to my forearm.

“I made coffee,” I said quite feebly, obviously embarrassed.

Matt chuckled a little. “It’s ok. I get it.”

He walked into the kitchen and found the coffee pot and mug that I had set out for him. He poured himself a cup. He took a sip and asked. “Are you into rubber?”

“Well… I mean…. I’ve seen photos on the Internet,” I waffled, not sure what to say.

“What sort of photos?” he grinned.

“Photos of men looking pretty much like you did about five minutes ago,” I blushed. “Some of the heavier ones where they looked like the gimp in Pulp Fiction, I always wondered what it was like to be that guy. “

“Have you ever done anything with it?” Matt casually sipped at his coffee.

I thought about it for a second. I had spent a fair bit of time perusing some fetish sites on some lonely nights, but never really thought seriously about it. “Well, I guess that I thought that it was something that weird people did. Dangerous people. I wasn’t ready to find out the hard way that I couldn’t trust them.”

“Understandable…. Believe me… completely understandable,” he smiled an odd smile, and sat down at the table, looking casually out the window, across the lake to my neighbor’s house. “You can try that stuff on if you like.” Matt indicated.

My heart skipped a beat! But I was too embarrassed to admit my lust for the gear.

I pulled my hand out quickly and it felt cold in the open air. “I couldn’t really…”

“Why not?” he frowned, as if I said something completely absurd. “Listen man, you can have it. All of it. I’m not going to put it on again.”

I should have sensed something was wrong, but my ears were hot and just hearing the idea of being inside the suit made me instantly rock hard. My cock was begging to be let out of my jeans. Seeing Matt wearing my jeans and a t-shirt, the same muscular build, the same height, he was obviously my size, I would have no problem fitting into the rubber. I thought about how fine he looked when I first laid eyes on him, embodying a fantasy that I barely knew I had. Now the idea was just burning a hole right through me.

Matt must have been reading my mind. “Look, we’re obviously the same size. Just go for it. You will probably like it as much as I first did. I’ll help you get in it. “

I hesitated for a second, but before I could stop myself, I was peeling off my shirt. “So… what is your story anyway? I don’t want to pry, but how did you end up here?”

Matt took another glance across the lake. For a split second I thought I saw someone walking on the property, but I wasn’t sure. Matt didn’t seem concerned.

“Well, I work at a bar in Toronto, I’m going to school part time. Pretty regular sort of life really… as you might have guessed I also had an interest in fetish and bondage. Just like you, I read about it on the internet and became a little obsessed. Mostly just obsessed with looking at pictures and reading stories at first.”

I peeled off my underwear, revealing my hard cock dripping with precum and picked up the suit. Matt stood up picking something up off the table. “You should really wrap your package. Put on the cock and balls sheath. Trust me, your cock feels better in the suit surrounded by another layer of rubber. Here, I’ll help you.”

The rubber sheath slid right over my package and tightened like a cock ring at the base. I bobbed my cock up and down once, and felt it grow inside. The rubber confines stretched around my member, looking sleek and black. Matt then picked up the suit, shook it back out into shape and held it open before me.

“In ya go!” He chirped with a smile. I put one foot in, and then the other. Matt pulled it up around me, and I could feel the perfect snug fit sliding up my legs. An electric tingle ran up my body as it hugged me tight. “…so anyway… I actually lurked on a couple of the sites for a long time. I didn’t post a photo for almost a year, and when I did, I immediately got tons of hits.”

“I don’t blame them. You’re pretty dam cute.”

“Heh thanks. You’re not bad yourself, man,” Matt said as he tugged the rubber up onto my hips. “There really isn’t much of a rubber community in Toronto – from the internet it seems like it’s all in other countries. I really sold myself on the idea that I wanted to try experiencing a true, inescapable session of total rubber enclosure and sex slavery, at least for a little while. Really, finding sane people into that kind of thing is really hard.”

I slid my arms into the sleeves and pushed forward. The rubber came up onto my shoulders and greased with Matt’s sweat started clinging to my chest. Matt zipped up the back and the entire suit seemed to tighten around my back, shoulders and neck. I moved around a bit, my skin feeling more alive than I had ever known it. I felt ready to come right through the suit and knock a wall down with the force of it.

“This is fucken awesome!”

“I know!” Matt laughed.

I started feeling myself all over.

“Have a seat!” Matt instructed

I sat down and Matt picked the socks off the table. “Trust me, it’s better when it’s all over you. If you like that so far – you’re gonna love this.”

Matt started working the rubber socks onto my feet. He then slid the boots on. They took a minute to lace up as they ran practically up my entire shin. An ankle restraint was then buckled on overtop. I stood up, walking around, feeling it move on my body.

“Anyway, so I finally talked to this one guy online. Sounded like he’s a dedicated rubberiest. He definitely had a ton of gear in his photos. Sounded pretty sane and definitely wanted to get into a lot of the same stuff that I was into. So, I arranged a time and place to meet – local bar, nothing fancy.”

Matt worked up the tight elbow length gloves onto my arms and buckled the wrist restraints on. He picked up the harness: “You want to try this too?”

Thinking of the many photos I’d seen of rubber gimps that were clad in a similar harness how could I say no? I wasn’t locked in after all. I nodded my head affirmatively. He started strapping it on me.

“Awesome. Man, this looks great on you, I think even better than it looked on me,” Matt said, admiring his handiwork.

“Feels so fucken awesome.” I replied.

Matt continued, “So, I met this guy, and he turned out to be pretty down to earth. Used to be a doctor, now he just plays the stocks all the time – never loses. We met at a hotel a couple of times and he let me experiment with different types of gear. He seemed really enthusiastic, and never forced me into anything I was not ready for.  I’ll admit he pushed my limits in the best ways possible. I just kept taking one small step after the other.  I gave him my arm and he eagerly twisted it.”

“Sounds great! Where do I find this guy?” I joked.

Matt pulled the mask from the table, and without asking stepped behind me and pulled it over my head. The feeling of it tightening around my face was indescribable. I felt my identity slipping away.

“I have got to see a mirror.” I indicated.

“One second, you need a finishing touch,” Matt grabbed the collar from the table and buckled it onto my neck. I instantly felt more submissive. like a rubberized object. I walked to a mirror hanging in the hallway. I was surprised at the black alien figure staring back at me.

I thought I couldn’t get any hornier, but my cock just seemed to grow harder and harder. I had become that rubber gimp I always fantasized about. Well, sort of… no one was tying me up in this gear.

“You look great, really great,” Matt exclaimed. Even he seemed excited.

I was running my rubberized hands all over my body. I couldn’t believe the sensation. I wandered back by the table. A few stray pieces of gear still lay on the table, one of them quite formidable. I took a cautious deep breath.

“Oh, the straitjacket,” Matt nodded with a big grin.

He picked up and held it up. “Maybe you don’t want to get into that. It’s a bit much all at once. You can kind of get into a bit of a frenzy where you just want everything on you at once.”

“I’ll say!”, I laughed.

Matt took another glance out the window. “What the heck right? It’s not like I’m going to go anywhere on you. You said yourself the road is blocked.”

I shrugged, thinking far too much with my pecker and not thinking for a second about the dangerous territory I was skirting.  I was about to cross that line.  The line where I had no control and there would be no turning back.

“FUCK IT!”  I yelled, “JUST DO IT!” as I held my arms out. He draped the straight jacket over them. He moved around the back and zipped up the rear of the jacket. Then started pulling belts and fastening buckles on the back nice and tight.

Matt continued, “Where was I? Oh yeah… so finally we meet one weekend and he gets me totally rubbered up, head to toe, pretty much like you are now. This was the usual for us by this point. Only instead of going to the hotel, we decided to go to his house, as it had his entire and extremely sizable gear collection. I was fascinated and eager to try more.”

Matt pulled my arms across my body, buckling them in place. A strap come over the front providing them no movement. He jocked me up in the crotch strap that tightened on my inner thighs, which got me even harder. Now, there was no way I could get out of this jacket on my own.

My temperature seemed to skyrocket. I could feel my own sweat filling the suit. I tried to move on my own but all I felt was rubber grinding on rubber. I was positively elated.

“I am really loving this!” I indicated.

Matt continued, “So we get up to his place and he leads me down to his basement, it’s a dungeon. I mean a real dungeon. If there’s a weird bondage contraption you’ve seen online – he’s got it. Most importantly it’s got a real cell and the door opens only with a key code that he knows, some kind of electric, digital lock gizmo. I was totally excited for a real bondage session with this guy.”

He paused briefly, “I’d been having such a great time. Then he starts talking about control, and taking total control over me, making me a 24/7 rubber sex slave, at least eventually. I don’t mean starting slow and working up to 24/7 – I mean he wanted to start at 24/7 but I was supposed to be less than a slave – that was what he wanted me to work up to.”

A shiver ran down my spine! Suddenly I started coming back to reality. Why did I feel like his story was taking a turn for the worse?

“Matt, why don’t I like where this is going?” I asked.

Matt led me to the couch, carrying the rest of the gear with him. He sat me down.

“Well, for starters…”

Suddenly Matt pinched my nose unexpectedly. Instinctually I opened my mouth. He shoved the red rubber ball gag in and buckled it behind my head.

I tried pushing it out with my tongue but to no avail. I tried to sit up. Facing me, Matt sat on my lap, pinning me. He slipped the muzzle over my head and quickly strapped it all on tightly. I shook my head side to side screaming into the gag. It was obvious that the sound was far too muffled, and we were far too isolated. Matt grabbed my chin and held it still.

“Shhhhhh… You see I didn’t want to be a 24/7 anything except perhaps being a student. It was way too much, but he never even gave me the opportunity to say ‘no’. I have been his rubber THING for over a month. Held in that dungeon. Oh, there was some horny times, yeah, but I wanted my life back.”

Matt continued, “I had almost given up hope on the idea when the power went out. He must have been asleep when it happened. I think some kind of safety feature opened up the electronic locks and I was able to walk right out the door. Right into your arms.”

“This is the first time I’ve worn anything but rubber in all that time. Oh, and since you asked where you could find this guy – well, he’s looking in the window right now!”

Startled, I looked behind me to the window out to the deck and saw a tall, muscular, bald man, probably in his late forties. He was dressed like a biker but all in leather and rubber with aviator sunglasses hiding his eyes. His face was cold and expressionless.

Matt pulled me up to my feet.

“Boy,” the man’s voice was deep and commanding. I got an instant chill. “Did you really think you’d get away?”

Matt stood his ground. “Sir – I’m done. I don’t want this anymore. It was dumb luck that I got away and you won’t get me that easily again without a real fight. I willingly walked into all this the first time.  But now I’m not stupid – I won’t go telling anyone about this. I just want to go home and go back to my life. I’ll call it a fun misadventure.”

“You think it’s just that easy, Boy?” the man snarled.

“Maybe not. Maybe you are right and I’ll want to come back to you. Right now, I doubt it. I’ve had enough,” Matt’s voice trembled. He too was genuinely afraid.

Me… I was shaking.

Matt continued, “I’ve found ya a replacement though. He’s hungry for it – even more than I was. I’ll give him to you and that makes me an accomplice. Then we’re both happy. You know I can’t turn you in. Just let me leave.”

I started shrieking hysterically inside my rubber prison. I tried to make a break for it, running past the rubber man as he stepped into my cottage. He snapped an arm out and caught me by the neck. His other hand went directly to my cock and he gripped my still hard member.

“Mmmmm,” he growled. “He’s horny. Very horny, horny as fuck.”

“You, see?” Matt pleaded. “He’s perfect for you Sir. Take him with you – he can be your new slave or whatever the fuck it is you want him to become. I’m going to take a long walk into town, and catch a bus back to Toronto. You’ll have your hands full starting your…. Training all over again.”

The man sniffed me like the bouquet of a fine wine. “Ok boy. You have a deal. Don’t think I won’t come looking for you eventually. You owe me! We still have a binding contract. We still have unfinished business.”

The man pulled a leash out of his pocket and clipped it too Matt’s collar that was now around my neck. He started pulling me out the door, and down the road to his house.

“Alright boy, I guess it’s you and me now. You and I are going to have to work very hard over the next couple of days sorting a few things out.”

I pulled as best I could but I had no leverage at all. What was even worse was that a part deep inside of me really wanted to go with him. Either way, I was about to find out the rubber horrors that lay beyond the dark windows of that mansion by the lake.

I was practically dragged by the neck all the way down the road. Completely unable even to look back to see the safety of my home quickly falling away from me, nor able to see the treacherous man that I tried to help. I could only focus instead on the mansion quickly looming over me. The windows of the house seemed black and empty, hungry even and I was utterly panicked but unable to fight in any way at all.

As we entered the front gate, my captor paused for a moment to shut the gate and flipped a switch. There was a humming noise and I could only assume that the fence was now electrified. Presumably it had been knocked out by the same storm that had affected the power at my cottage earlier. I could hear the rumble of a generator in the distance. Even if I was able to get out of my rubber prison, there was at least one more prison that I would have to plan an escape from.

We entered through the front door, and I only had a few seconds to notice the opulence of the interior – clearly my captor was a man of considerable means given the nature of the interior décor. It was a very classical design, riddled with antiques and art – somewhere beyond the scent of rubber I could smell the distinct odor of fine cigars and mahogany. All this was moot however as we raced through the first floor directly to a large metal door opening to a cellar. My captor punched in an elaborate code into a keypad on the door, and it unlocked with a heavy click. There followed another such door at a vestibule before entering the rest of the basement.

There were only a few rooms with the doors open where I could make out what was inside. One was a carefully-marked equipment room, in which I could make out several devices of torture, as well as rubber and leather clothing, gas masks and boots. Another was a gym of some kind although I didn’t recognize all of the equipment. The man was huge however, and it wouldn’t surprise me if he had a very particular regimen. We stopped at a door that opened into what could only be described as a cell. Inside were only a steel toilet, a steel sink, and a bench with a mattress, which also had a rubber mattress cover on it. I was sat down and my collar was clipped to a hook on the wall.

“Stay right here, boy,” the man said, and walked quickly out of the room.

I could hear him shuffling with something down the hall so I immediately started thrashing about trying to release myself. It was to no avail. The straitjacket provided me with absolutely no leverage at all, and the best that I could do was feel my rubberized arms sliding about in the smooth interior. There was no way to generate enough force or violence to be able to escape. I was completely trapped inside. Any resistant was futile. I gave up and sat back panting for a few minutes before he returned carrying a box with several items inside.

He first dumped several padlocks out onto the bench beside me and locked the restraints on my legs before locking them together. Another lock was attached to my collar.

“You are not going to be able to walk anywhere in a hurry. Your collar is locked to the wall,” my captor said. “I am going to take off your straitjacket now. If you make any trouble, you will regret it very quickly. Nod if you understand.”

I nodded. This man wasn’t going to take any chances and I would have to wait until later for a slip-up. He reached forward and unbuckled the straitjacket. He then applied locks to each of the buckles on my harness. My wrist restraints were removed but quickly replaced with a pair of rubber mitts rendering my hands completely useless. They too, were then locked together.

“Now!”  he commented, “The first rule you must learn is that you can never masturbate again. You may feel horny and want to relieve yourself.  Those mitts will not let you.  Those mitts will stay on until you learn the first rule. Do you understand?”

I could not believe this.  But I nodded affirmatively.    

He lit a cigar and stood before me, admiring his work.

“Alright boy, listen up! When you earn the right to speak, you will call me ‘Master’ or ‘Sir’”, he commanded. “I will call you whatever the fuck I want. As you may have guessed, yes, I kept your friend Matt here for some time. He might have told you it was against his will but I can assure you that he enjoyed it far too much for it to be involuntary. From the size of your hard-on, I can only assume that you are much the same as Matt.” He reached down and squeezed my dick.

He paused briefly for me to think, “You also must know I have fixed the fail-safe in my backup generator, so even if the power is out, the doors will remain locked. They will not open automatically as before. The electric fence outside will remain electrified. Furthermore…”

“Master” removed a remote control from his pocket and pressed a button. An intense searing shock came from my collar and I was instantly immobilized. I screamed quickly but the cry was severely muffled by my gag and muzzle.

“I carry this with me at all times. Now that the power is back up on the fence you will be unable to walk more than 25 meters beyond that fence without it triggering automatically. I have it set currently to the medium setting; however, walking outside the perimeter will automatically trigger it at the highest setting.”

“Obviously, I have quite the obsession with rubber. I have always wanted to have the ultimate rubber companion and have for years thought about the training and conditioning that I wanted it to have. I had already started an aggressive program with Matt, but he managed to escape before it took hold, thanks to nothing more than a simple power failure. I have already taken steps to ensure that it won’t happen again.”

“You might be able to escape from your restraints down here, but before you even reach the upstairs, you will be unable to make it past the electric locks on the doors. Do not think that I don’t want to have you upstairs with me – there is much that I want you to do up there, but for now this will be your world. You have to earn your way up there.”

“Right now, you are only to be an object of pure rubbered physicality. Your body is mine to use and shape as I see fit. You are a pure Gimp for nothing more than my enjoyment and your training. As I see eagerness and obedience grow in you, I will start small, and eventually you will be in a position to start obeying more complex desires, in which case I will start training you as my puppy dog. If you can learn the kind of devotion and obedience that I expect of a dog successfully then I may teach you how to be a Sex Slave worthy of serving my needs, yet worthy of some greater levels of autonomy and expression, a chance to have some of yourself back. If you can earn those privileges, you will eventually become my Boy, hopefully a rubber boy who has finally realized all that I can teach and give him, and completely willing to continue to submit to my authority. I guarantee with each of these titles that you earn, you will find yourself glowing with pride.”

Master continued, “But I’m getting ahead of myself. I am speaking of your achievements possibly years down the line and you have only been here a few minutes. I’m sure that right now you are terrified and alone – and rightly so, this is an incredibly fearsome first step you have taken and not entirely of your own will. I have some further preparations to make, so there is no time like the present to begin your conditioning. Come with me…”

He clipped a leash to my neck and unclipped me from the wall. We shuffled down the hall to a room full of different racks, elaborate chairs, slings, and crosses. I was sat down into a fearsome leather barber’s chair covered in straps. The D-rings on my collar, harness and restraints were all clipped in place and additional restraints added on. All the while my mind was racing – he intended me to stay here for years – forever really from the sounds of things, and indulge in some perverse education of his? I wanted to cry. I had never felt so helpless before. While my fears of him killing me started to subside, they were now being replace with other fears. He had other plans in store for me. Plans that freighting me almost as much as the loss of my life at his hands.

“Now, I am going to get a look at my plaything. Don’t even try to speak or I will activate the collar.”

Master removed the muzzle, gag and mask. My head was dripping with sweat; it ran down my face and into my eyes. Master dried my head with a towel.

“Excellent. A fair trade for Matt if I may say so. You are a good-looking boy, and I must say that rubber really does become you. Good thing, as it is all you are going to be wearing for some time. Matt had been wearing almost nothing but rubber, for over a month – you should expect much longer before your skin is allowed to touch anything else.”

Master ran his hand through my long wavey hair, frowning.

“This hair is far too long, though, and not something that you have earned. It will have to go.”

From nearby, master pulled a set of clippers and without hesitation set to buzzing all of the hair from my head, long locks of it falling pathetically into my lap. These were quickly brushed aside and he swept up. He then held up a mirror for me to see. Looking up I was shaved completely bald. I could hardly recognize myself at all. For a second, I thought that someone else was looking back. He was right though, seeing myself bound completely in rubber my horniness came back with a vengeance. I’ll admit, I’d fantasized about similar scenarios, but the reality of it was utterly terrifying. I blamed it on blind nervous energy. I’d heard before about soldiers that experienced erections during battle for the same reason.

Part of my anxiety diminished. As my fear of being killed by this guy faded, the reality of my new life seemed to take over. Something, deep within me, was energizing me. I thought of POW’s who survived captivity for multiple years. Perhaps I could do this.

“Not bad,” Master said. “Normally I like a nice crew cut or a high-and-tight on my boy, but you will earn that look in time. For now, the tactile experience of a regularly shaved head will allow you to enjoy THIS…”

With that he forced a gas mask with a rubber hood over my face. It was already lubed on the inside allowing it to slide directly on, despite how tight it was. Some kind of internal gag forced its way into my mouth. It was pumped up and I could feel the bit swelling in my mouth. Tubes fit directly into my nostrils. Earbuds almost naturally fell into my ear cavity and a white noise could be heard starting up. Master unzipped my cock, removing the sheath. He placed what felt like a large suction device of some kind up on my dick, with a slow rhythm starting to slowly jerk me off. A trolley with several TV monitors was rolled up in front of me and switched on. A sweet scent started to pump into the gas mask, though the air seemed clearer somehow. The screens flickered to life with videos of rubber and bondage pornography playing on each.

Master’s voice came into the earbuds. “Just lie back and enjoy the show, boy. Don’t fight it. I will be monitoring closely. This is the first of many such sessions that I will expect you to complete, so try to adjust yourself accordingly. I will be back soon – don’t worry, I have your breathing on a monitor which will alert me if there is a problem.”

Scene after scene of erotic rubber pleasure played before me. The suction of the device rose and fell, never quite seeming to bring me to climax. I would get so close and then be denied as the system slowed itself down. A constant mesmerizing beat played slowly in my ear.

Even more horrifyingly, scenes showing removal from bondage, removal of rubber, or even normal sex, normal life were met with a series of painful shocks from the collar. My earbuds would play a harsh, erratic tone. I made the connection quickly – I was to associate only pleasure with being a rubber gimp, and a complete aversion to anything else. I was only to enjoy being his rubber plaything, and any other thoughts were to be pushed aside.

The first of many such sessions? How many is many? A month was not enough to keep Matt from escaping and that was only after he was given a miracle opportunity of Master’s elaborate security breaking down. Surely Master would be planning for this too – so how long would this phase of training continue? A month? Two months? A year? MORE?

The shocks ended and the slow jerking off of the milking machine began again. The cycle continued for what seemed like hours… how long would this go on? I completely lost track of time and could concentrate only on the sheer pleasure of my situation.

[cyberaxolotl]

New Home

A Bugsnax Grimdark

Description: Triffany and Wambus finally find their new land, with rich soil, and richer history. But still, good history comes with bad history, as well as “Folklore.”

Chapter One: Get Settled, Right?

Warnings: Horror Elements, mild blood

(Fic below the cut)

It had been six months since the incident at Snaktooth had ended. Everyone had gone mostly their separate ways, with only a few exceptions, but Wambus and Triffany were not one- they’d moved deep into the Southern mainland, in rural Grumpesse, the place they could find with a large plot of land and a rich digsite nearby. It was perfect, and they’d moved as soon as they were financially stable enough to.

The large truck pulled into the gravel driveway, in front of a large metal gate. The plot of land was several acres, surrounded by a metal gate, with a large farmhouse in the front-middle and sheds nearby. It was perfect for crop farming, and easy enough to pull out of that Triffany could get to work in the morning. The only “downside” were the neighbors directly across from them, but they didn’t mind. A bunch of country people living in a rural area weren’t gonna be an issue.

Triffany hopped out of the passenger side of the truck, looking through the metal fences. “Ohoho, look at all this, Wamby!” She put her talons together, smiling widely.

Wambus stepped down the truck’s side, his hooves crunching the gravel beneath him. “It’s a piece of work, ain’t it? To think we landed this, five whole acres o’ land!” He was incredibly proud of himself, tipping his hat. “We made a good choice buyin’ it now- it's late winter, perfect time to plant my crops to be ready for the alla spring!”

“I know! And it’s the perfect time for me to be joinin’ the local archeology team, oh, we really scored!” They smiled at each other, the archeologist giggling under her breath. Then, she took a sigh. “Can’t say I ain’t exhausted from the drive, though.”

He looked back at the truck. “Yup, we’ve got a lotta our belongin’s to bring in. Pretty sure it’s got most of its old furnishing though.” He thought aloud, walking back around to the back of the truck. “We can figure that out once we’ve got most of this stuff at least at the front door.”

As the back door unlocked, Triffany pulled the side open, looking inside at the stacks of boxes. “Maybe we shoulda hired some help for all of this…” She said, stepping up the stairs, her lower talons scraping against the metal.

He chuckled. “We deserve to lie down for a spell once we’re done, eh?” He also stepped up, grabbing a crate with two boxes in and on top of it. “As though I wasn’t already thinkin’ of that halfway through the drive.”

“Hmh, makes me glad we were takin’ the drive half and half! You’re the type to have fallen asleep at the wheel!” Her tail hit the metal as she hopped down, stepping away. Then, she looked across the street.

“So are you, Triffy.” He rolled his eyes, then faced her. “Whaddya lookin’ at?”

Still facing across the street, she waved. “Just the neighbors, uh, hi-!” Across the street was a soft-pink grumpus, who looked generically middle aged. They’d been staring at the two for quite a while, but once acknowledged, they smiled softly.

“Hiiii~!” They waved back, their voice softly toned, sounding a bit unnatural to be yelled in. “Did you two buy that lot?” They asked.

Triffany nodded. “Just got here!” She motioned her tail at the truck.

“Yeah, I’ve lived here for years, it’s the first time in a while I’ve seen someone new here. Need any help getting all your stuff inside?”

They looked at each other, contemplating. Then, Wambus shrugged. “We sure could use it!” He accepted, watching the grumpus stand up, stepping out of their own fenced yard.

They were quickly over, a smile on their face. “I’m Everal Quickiepal.” They held their paw out. Now with a better look at them, they seemed to be a hamster-like grumpus, small in stature with big whiskers. A bit of their fur was turning white, and their soft-spoken voice had a slight spanish accent.

The farmer tipped his hat. “Wambus Troubleham. She’s my wife.” He pointed at Triffany.

“I’m Triffany Lottablog!” She was the one who took their paw, smiling.

“Lottablog..? That name sounds familiar…” Everal looked pensive, then held their arms out. “Here, let me help you.” They took the crate the archeologist held.

“Thanks! And, you’ve heard my family name before?” She stepped back to the truck, grabbing a new crate. Wambus kept quiet, figuring the two would talk without him needing to be involved. The three walked away from the truck, the gate’s padlock unlocked.

“I believe I have… Are you Grumplombian?” The question seemed random.

“Oh, my parents are, but they raised me in Grumpesota!” She thought about it. “They moved back out there recently, though.”

“Ah, yes… I grew up in a big city in Llanos, I think I’ve heard your name in a book.” They sounded unsure.

“You probably heard the name Bronica Lottablog! She was famous back in her days, in Grumplombia and over here!” Triffany was enthused to speak of her family history.

“Yes, yes, that’d be it. What brought you two out here to rural Grumpesse..?”

Wambus was able to answer that. “We've been lookin’ for a place to settle down for a while, and we’ve finally found it.”

“Good quality soil for him, and the nearby dig site for me! I do archeology.” She explained.

“You two are lucky, this lot hasn’t been owned in over a decade. My wife and I have been making sure it doesn’t get overgrown, but we usually stay out of it.” Everal sounded a bit apprehensive with that.

“Why’s nobody owned it?” The farmer asked, his intentions innocent.

“The rumors usually scare them away.”

They all stopped. The married couple glanced at each other, then at the neighbor. “What rumors?” Triffany asked quickly.

“Oh, they’re not really rumors, more… Folklore. Have you ever heard of À La Eater?” They looked more hesitant now.

Wambus scoffed. “Folklore don’t matter to me, I don’t believe in that schtick.” He rolled his eyes, starting to walk again.

“You don’t have to believe in it, it’s just a story going around the area…” Everal started walking too, a bit slowly. They reached the front of the farmhouse, placing all their crates down, then turning back.

“I’d like to hear about it! Even if I don’t quite believe in most cryptids, I’d love to know about this area’s folklore!” Triffany seemed excited though.

“Hm, well… Nobody truly knows what À La Eater looks like, everyone who’s seen it has only seen it running through the brush, marked by the plants and weeds waving around its body. People who have seen its actual flesh through the flora have said its body is far too black and scaly to be a normal animal, and far too good at hiding to get a better look.”

“Probably just a coyote, I’ve dealt with those before.” The farmer crossed his arms, shrugging.

“What does it do?” She continued asking.

“People who have owned the lot have said that, after they saw it running through the brush, they’ve woken up with scratch marks on their doors and porch. They had horrible nightmares in their sleep too, and some of them even heard the scratching- the assumption is that À La Eater is eating their good dreams, and wants to get in and eat their bodies too.”

“Oooh, has anyone ever actually gone missing around here because of it?” Triffany played along.

“They always move out the day after the scratch marks appear.” Everal shrugged.

“Ain’t gonna be me, I’m not givin’ up this land ‘cause of no wives tale.” Wambus said as the three reached the truck again, scoffing.

The three quickly grabbed a few more boxes. “Well, if that’s so, I look forward to having neighbors across the street that last longer than a few months.” They smiled at the couple. “I’d love to introduce you two to my wife sometime, Maple loved meeting the new neighbors, we just haven’t gotten any in forever.”

“Maybe in a couple days, we gotta get settled in tonight and start our work tomorrow.” The farmer shrugged again.

“We’d love to go over for dinner sometime, though!” Triffany smiled at them, the three heading back for the farmhouse. “Know anythin’ about the other neighbors here?” She asked.

Everal chuckled. “They’re gonna consider you very bold for moving into that house.” It got a chuckle out of the archeologist, and a groan out of her husband. “But, the people here are kind, truly. Last time someone moved into this lot, everyone baked some treats or otherwise, like a sort of welcome wagon. It was also for everyone to warn them of the folklore…” Their voice trailed off a little.

“Well, I sure look forward to kind neighbors! Wambus wasn’t a fan of our last neighbor, but he warmed up.” The couple looked between each other. They both knew she was speaking distinctly of Gramble, their neighbor from Snaktooth. But, they’d made a deal with Filbo and the journalist; they wouldn’t tell a soul about Snaktooth. So, they didn’t.

“He wasn’t so bad, really.” He shrugged, thinking about how him and Gramble had been on good terms by then. He wondered briefly how that rancher was doing now. “Speakin’ of the neighbors, you’ve been mentionin’ your wife. Who’s she?” He asked.

“Ah, my dearest Maple. She’d love to meet you two, she’s an actor, I'm sure you’ve heard the name Mapleline Fizzlebean-“ They spoke proudly of their wife, only to be cut off.

“FIZZLEBEAN-?!” The couple stopped and yelled, looking back.

“…Yes?” Everal tensed up, feeling as though they'd done something wrong.

Triffany shook her head. “Sorry for yellin’ hon, but, we know the Fizzlebeans!” She said, smiling.

Wambus nodded. “We met Floofty and Snorpy a while ago. I didn’t know they had a sister.”

“Oh-!” They gasped. “Well, then I’m sure she’ll be even happier to meet you two! She speaks rather highly of her younger siblings, I only met them at our wedding, and that was just Floofty…” They looked dreamily thoughtful.

“Floofty was my friend back on Sn-“ She got a glare from her husband before she could finish. “Sn- sn… Snap. Snapshot Isles.” She stiffened up, her eyes a bit wide. “I met them at the Snapshot Isles on vacation one time!” She smiled awkwardly, Wambus nodding as though to confirm.

They looked a little confused, but let it go as the three reached the porch. “Okay..? Um, I need to go back to my house and check on my dogs. I’ll talk to you guys some other time-!” With that, they turned around, figuring the two could handle the few boxes left.

“Have a good evenin’~!” Triffany called after them, then promptly sighed. “It’s… Awful hard hidin’ stuff about Snaktooth nowadays.”

“Can’t say I don’t agree.” He shrugged, wiping his forehead. “We just gotta let that time go, a’right?” He sat down on the step, tired. They’d get the next boxes after a quick sit-down.

“Yeah… Hm.” A thought seemed to occur to her. “You grew up on a farm like this, didn’t’cha? Did ya ever hear of cryptids of your own?”

He waved her off. “My family didn’t grow up with cryptids, Triffy. We grew up with rats in our walls.”

“…What?” She chuckled.

“Old house, and the walls had room between ‘em. You know what rats do? They go in holes.” He let out a small chuckle as well, smiling at her.

“You didn’t have ta say it in such an ominous way, hon!” She laughed, standing back up. “Come on, we oughta get the last of our stuff.” He nodded, joining her.

They walked back to the truck in silence, relishing the surroundings around their new home. It was all fields around them, the land going for miles without trees or greenery, with the exception being the hand-grown bushes. There was a lot of growing for Wambus to do, and gosh did he look forward to it.

~~~~~~

After a few weeks, the fields were cleaned, plants were sprouting, and they’d tidied the house to their liking. And, as expected, the neighbors did actually stop by on occasions. A younger looking couple came with a batch of cookies as a welcome gift, and one time, a child stopped by just to say hi. Since Triffany had started work, it was mostly Wambus greeting people.

He was home alone, inside and washing some vegetables for dinner later, when there was a knock at the door. “Hm?” He wasn’t expecting company, though, he wasn’t going to ignore it. He supposed the welcome wagon hadn’t quite ended yet. He put the vegetables into a bowl and walked over, opening the front door.

“Howdy.” He tipped his hat, not really paying attention to who arrived. It was a white grumpus on the elderly side, wearing a poncho over their shoulders.

“Hello, are you the new owner of the lot?” They asked, talking slowly.

He nodded. “Me ‘n my wife, but she’s out today.”

“Of course, of course… You know, this place has history behind it.” They smiled softly.

He crossed his arms with a sigh. “So I’ve heard. I don’t believe in no cryptids.” They noticeably frowned when he said that.

“I have lived here for a very long time, boy. There’s some scary stuff in these fields, ya hear.” Their eyebrows furrowed. “À La Eater is simply the worst one. It doesn’t like its land being taken.”

“Uh-huh, and who are you to be sayin’ that?” He raised an eyebrow.

“I am Carmella Quizsparkle.” She introduced. “I’ve watched lots of people move in and out of this lot, families, single farmers, retired couples… They’ve all left because of À La Eater, and-“

“Listen.” Wambus interrupted her. “I appreciate alla y’all worryin’ or whatever, but Triffany and I don’t believe in no cryptids. My wife just likes listenin’ to the history, but she ain’t here, so I ain’t interested.”

Carmella’s lips pursed. “Can’t you humor an old lady’s worries?” She had a bit of genuine worry in her tone.

“If there really is somethin’ to worry about, then tell us how to prevent it. I doubt there’s anythin’ we haven’t heard already about the supposed origins of it.” He glanced back at the kitchen, knowing he wanted to get back to making dinner so it’d be ready once his wife was home.

“Don’t let it see you.” She said quickly and sharply, startling him a little. “Its eyes are too sunken to see, but it can sense you. Do not move, do not look into its eyes, and you will know when to leave.” Her expression narrowed into a glare.

“And what makes you think that?” He huffed.

“Because I knew the first man to look into its eyes. He couldn’t stop sobbing, he described its eyes, its bite, and its maw.” Her expression became very intense. “If you’re so stubborn to not leave after the marks appear, then you will deal with the consequences.”

“I’m sure whatever man said he saw it was losin’ his mind after seein’ a bear or coyote. I know how to deal with those, I’ve farmed since I was a kid.” He crossed his arms, glaring at her.

Carmella sighed. “I’m sure you have, only country boys have stubbornness like you.” She chuckled, “Have fun with the local fauna…” She turned around slowly, stepping down the front steps, then walking away. Her paw steps were so quiet that there wasn’t a sound as she left.

“Uh-huh.” Wambus went back inside, huffing. “Sure Triffy’s gonna love hearin’ about that…” He got back to cutting vegetables, listening for the distinct sound of a truck pulling into the driveway. Only owning one vehicle meant he was stuck at home while Triffany was at work- not that he minded, any grocery shopping he needed could be done on weekends.

After another thirty minutes, he was almost finished with dinner, and he heard a truck pull into the gravel driveway. Taking a quick look out of the window, he saw the blurry green figure hop out of the front, then walk away to get stuff from the passenger side. ‘Triffy’s home.’ He smiled, looking down at the food he prepared. It’d only be a couple minutes till it was ready, the perfect time.

And so it was, after a few minutes, the door opened. “Iiiii’m hooome~!” Triffany announced, a tiredness in her voice.

“Welcome back.” He greeted, watching her drop her work backpack by the door. “You’re just in time for dinner.” He turned back to the pot he had out, which was still steaming.

“I was hopin’ I’d be! The whole team was so busy today that we just- forgot our lunch break!” She laughed, then winced a little. “I’m runnin’ on a real empty stomach…” She muttered.

“Then you’re lucky, it’s your favorite. A spicy pot roast.” He smiled at her, stirring the pot and tapping the spoon off. “It’s gonna take a minute to cool.” He walked over to get a couple of bowls.

“Aw, hon, you spoil me!” She was audibly appreciative, sitting down at the nearby dining table. “Anythin’ new here?”

“Mmm, plants are nearly vegetative, and I finally fixed that old gate at the back of the lot. Someone dropped by today, too.” There was a slight groan in his voice as he said that.

“Oh, who was it?” She tapped her talons on the table, making a soft click noise.

“Some old lady called Carmella Quizsparkle. Just came with more schtick about that old rumor.” He rolled his eyes, then got ready to divide the roast into their bowls.

“Hm… Y’know, I talked to some of my colleagues today about if they’d ever hearda some À La Eater- said they’d never heard the name. Makes sense, most of em don’t come from this far out, I figure it must just be a local story.” She shrugged, thinking back. “What’d she say?”

“Lotta stuff about how to prevent it or whatever, and somethin’ about a guy who claimed he saw it. A bunch of nothin’.” Wambus grabbed the two bowls, walking back over. “Apparently the rumor’s existed for years.”

“Local rumor gettin’ spread by everyone who lives here, ah?” Triffany smiled as she was served, fiddling with her fork. “It was probably started by the first people who lived here and were tryin’ not to lose the land!” She chuckled, then sighed. “As unrealistic as it is, I’m more keen to thinkin’ it could be real nowadays. Especially after all we went through at…” She nudged her head slightly, avoiding the word. “…Snaktooth.”

“Snaktooth Island was a massive pest, ya hear? That island of walkin’ vegetables was all kinds of crazy!” His tone was a bit loud, as he always got when talking about that part of their life. Then, he sighed. “We’re on the mainland, not no batshit island. Whatever’s goin’ on here is probably just wild animals.”

“I know, I know, and I agree!” She lightly tapped her utensil against her bowl. “I’m still tryin’ to get used to eatin’ certain foods again, that place left a mark.”

The farmer didn’t reply, his claws digging on the wooden table. He was uncomfortable talking about Snaktooth but he knew it was important to be able to talk about it- hell, he avoided burgers like the plague over the last few months. It’d affected the whole crew’s diets pretty drastically.

“…So, what are the methods for preventin’ the Eater?” He figured she was going to ask that.

“Supposedly just don’t move and don’t look it in the eyes.” He shrugged. “Whole buncha nonsense, I know from experience that if you see an animal, the easiest way to get it to buzz off is to yell at it.”

She chuckled, a smile crossing her face. “Yeah, I know how stuck you are to your methods! Can’t say I blame ya,” And the two trailed off into a more relaxed conversation.

~~~~~~

It was a few months later that things started becoming odd.

Triffany woke up early in the morning, simply by nature. She’d gotten used to the schedule of waking up at five in the morning in order to get to work on time, as well as gotten used to waking up alone. She had to wonder how Wambus made it to the end of the day without collapsing while waking up at four in the morning. Her sleep had been relatively undisturbed- maybe there were dreams, but if there were, she didn’t remember them. She stepped out of bed with a yawn, letting the tapping of talons on floorboards remind her that she was truly there. It was time to be downstairs for breakfast.

And as per usual, she was the one being greeted. “Mornin’, Triffy.” Wambus was cooking breakfast, something that looked simple, and just their routine morning meal. He greeted her every morning like that, knowing she was coming when her talons scraped against the floorboards.

“Good mornin, Wamby~!” She said happily, though a bit groggily. She sat down at the nearby dining table, gently scratching around her eye.

That was when she heard something crack. “Gah-!” The farmer grunted slightly with it, sounding disappointed. He sighed. “Another day, another egg white on this apron.”

She chuckled, moving her hand to scratch the fur of her cheek. “That always happens when you try to cook eggs, what is it with ya?” She laughed.

“Eggs fill me with rage, ya hear?” He looked over his shoulder at her, and she knew he was starting a joke. “I always tell ya, my uncle traumatized me that day, I ain’t never seen eggs the same since. Wanna guess why?”

“Cause he lined the doorway with eggs-“

“CAUSE HE LINED THE DOORWAY WITH EGGS!” He put on a fake angry tone, getting a hearty laugh out of his wife. The two found it tradition to tell tales of childhood and get laughs out of one another, the way they always would.

“Alright, egg-hater, when’s the food gonna be ready?” Triffany was still giggling under her breath.

He shrugged. “It’s gonna take another couple minutes.”

She stood up. “I oughta take that time to get my bags ready and my clothes on, the site manager expects us to be there earlier than usual, said some of the equipment we use wasn’t workin’ right.” With that, she walked off.

Wambus chuckled under his breath. Finally being together again like that, in their own home, it made him feel complete again. He remembered those long nights alone like they were a recent memory, despite it having happened months ago. Still, what he would give to never have to experience that again was a broad list.

After another fifteen minutes of talking and eating breakfast, it was time for Triffany to go. “Seeya in the evenin’, hon!” She waved at him through the house, as he was just getting ready to exit from the backdoor into the fields. She hopped across the porch and down the steps, heading down the dirt pathway to the front gate- the key to it jingled in her pocket alongside the car keys. Every morning when she left, she unlocked the gate, and then she’d lock it at night when she got home. It was routine, but there was always a spare key inside for her husband.

She reached the gate, digging through her vest pocket for the key, when… an oddity struck her. With talons like hers, it was obvious that she tended to scrape the ground, with the muddy turf around the gate being no exception. Often standing in the same place under the lock, she’d recognize when something was off- and she did. The ground beneath her was… lower than usual.

“Hm?” She let out a small squeak as she noticed it, removing her foot from the spot and looking down. The mud was disordered, a slight hole in the ground, but no pit. Big enough to trip over, but too small to be a real problem. And finally, there were… rather large claw and paw marks. She looked at it as she unlocked the gate, not thinking too much of it. “Hm, I oughta tell Wamby about that once I’m home- Don’t want him needin’ to yell at bears in the middle of the night!” The realistic assumption was just that; a bear. It wasn’t a bad assumption, they were out in a highly rural area, and the paws just couldn’t be either of theirs. Wambus had hooves, Triffany had talons, and none of their neighbors had stopped by in a long enough time to leave a mark, nor did any of them have lower paws that big.

But, she had no reason to question it further- she’d be late for work if she stalled. Stuffing the key back into her vest pocket, she skipped out into the driveway and hopped into the truck.

And it was not only her who saw irregularities that day.

Wambus was making a routine check around the fields, holding an empty watering can to take to the well in the very corner. He was passing by the very back row, at the end of the lot, when he reached the back gate.

He wouldn’t have noticed anything if he hadn’t tripped- but, his hoof fell into the disturbed mud, slipping and sending him forward. “What in tarnation-!” He yelled, barely holding onto the can he held. Instead, he ended up smacking his chin on the edge of it. “Gah- what the hell was that-?” He asked himself, putting a paw over his chin and looking back.

A similar, distinct dent in the ground. Not too small, not too big. Decorated by claw marks.

‘Damned bears.’ He thought, but had worse things to worry about, feeling the first bit of blood dribble from his cut chin. He stood back up, feeling irritation around the spot, and irritation in his mind. He figured it was about time he dealt with something like that, so he walked the rest of the way to the well, then rested the can there. He’d have to go inside and get a patch for his chin.

As it was now mid-summer, the crop was simple- it was the hottest time of the year, weather only satiating cheese sauce and hot sauce. And yes, the field reeked of peppers and hot cheese. The mix of smells tended to piss off certain local fauna, making them do one of two things; run away from the nearby area, or attempt to break in and eat it to make it stop.

That assumption was his first mistake.

But, it didn’t matter to him right then. He exited the farmhouse and went back to find his watering can, heading back to the well, the overwhelming smell of spice and cheese not bothering him. He’d set up a bear repellant after he tended to the crops, he’d done it a thousand times before, he’d do it again.

“Huh?” Wambus let out a hum, his eyebrows furrowing. “What the hell..?” He walked up to the well, putting his hands on the rim. The watering can was gone- not in the well, on the well, and a quick look around yielded that it was not around it either. ‘Ugh, a damn animal made off with my can.’ That was his thought, not an unreasonable one. There was a shed at the corner at the front of the lot, with a backup watering can, so he brushed it off. If he really cared enough, he’d search the woods later.

As he reached the front of the lot by the metal gate again, he took a quick glance across the street. On a weekday like that, most of the people were out, with driveways hosting no cars. The only other grumps nearby were either inside or busy.

“Hi Mister Troubleham!” Or they were a child. The farmer pushed his hat up, looking across the street, seeing a kid that had said hi to him before.

“Good afternoon, kid.” He greeted back, fiddling with the combination lock on the shed.

“Can I help you with your crops, mister?” He asked innocently.

“I dunno, ya got permission from your parents to?” If he did, then Wambus would’ve let the kid do some little things, but if he didn’t, it wasn’t his place to say.

The child chuckled. “I don’t haaaave parents!” He announced, sounding oddly happy.

“Alright, then who looks after you?” He didn’t question the idea of a kid being raised by their siblings or otherwise, hell, he found out when he met Mapleline that she was the one who raised Snorpy and Floofty.

“My big brother, Trinity!” There was his answer.

“Then ask yer brother, and don’t forget to tell him where you are.” The farmer looked away as the kid skipped off into his house. He looked through the shed for the backup watering can, not thinking much of having a helping hand. Chances are he’d just show the kid something new, teach him the ropes, and maybe let him water something or other.

After finally finding the watering can tucked behind a few bags of mulch, he stepped out of the shed to lock the door again. As he did, he heard steps behind him, and looked over his shoulder.

“I got permission from my brother!” He said happily. Now with a better look at the kid, his appearance was clearer- he was a pastel yellow grumpus with deer antlers, and hooves to match. He had curly fur that covered the top half of his green eyes, his nose and paw pads having light green details.

“Didja get a time limit?” He asked, needing that clarification.

He shrugged. “All he said was to be back by sundown!”

“Alright, then that gives us a lotta time to show you the ropes. You ever farmed before?” He bent at his knees, getting to the kid's level.

He shook his head. “I’ve only ever planted stuff in video games, and Trinity says that’s a lot different.”

“Alright, then I’ve got a lot to show you.” Wambus grabbed the watering can again, starting to walk away, motioning for the child to follow. “What’s yer name, kid?” He realized he hadn’t asked.

“I’m Eleck Bumblefly!” He introduced happily. “You’re Mister Troubleham, right?”

“My name is Wambus, but you can call me Mister Troubleham if that’s what you prefer.” He shrugged.

“Okay!” Eleck accepted, then looked around. “Do you… Live alone here, mister?”

He let out a chuckle. “I live with my wife, kiddo. She just ain’t home durin’ the day.” He explained as the two entered the field. “I gotta fill up this watering can, but once I do, I’ll show you the ropes of how to get around. But I gotta warn you of somethin’ first.” He stopped, turning around. “If you see some kinda movement ‘round here that ain’t us, tell me. Farms like this are easy places for small animals to sneak around, and even if they ain’t gonna hurt a lot, I’m not lettin’ you get bit by nothin’ under my watch. Got it?”

He nodded. “Got it! I do a lot of research on animals, I think they’re all cute!” He didn’t seem to fully get the message, but he agreed.

“You can find them as cute as you want, just tell me if you see one.” With that, they reached the well.

Eleck stood on the tips of his hooves, looking inside. “Wooow, I’ve never seen a hole so deep before!” He could barely see the water at the dark bottom.

Wambus waved for him to get down, attaching the watering can to a hook. “It’s the main water source for the house and here, we’re too far out to have an electric one.” He explained, using the rope to lower the can. “I do this whole process, day in, day out, for the sake of my crop.”

“You water all of these every day?” He looked out across the field, surprised.

“If I ain’t gonna do it, who will?” He asked, knowing there was no answer. “Once I’ve got this up, I’ll show you the basics. Just let me know once you’re done and I’ll take you back to your home.”

“Alright!” He seemed happy with that. Then, the two got to work.

End Of Chapter 1

#bugsnax #tori’s writing tag #wambus troubleham #triffany lottablog #bugsnax wambus #bugsnax triffany #it’s finally heeeEEEEREEEEE #PART 1 IS ANYWAY-

[carolinedoesmagic]

Caroline discovers polyamory (and some things about Tufo’s motivations)

AN: Back from vacay back to posting. Honestly just feel like writing third-person snippets at this point but I like this story and want to see it all on this profile. Also pardon the triad here, it doesn’t really fit but they’re not major characters and I love the illustration.

It was time to approach the girl’s family, who stood in an aristocratic trio, all quiet words and solemn expressions. The woman and one man seemed in their fifties, graying hair and thin lines of sharp faces and piercing eyes. The other man was a bit younger, human but emanating an otherwoldly glow — it was something about the eyes and the posture that made me think of gold and pearls and opalescence.

I didn’t have much time to stare before they eyed me up and down, realized who I was, and launched into a round of sound thank you-s, which I promptly deflected. It was nothing, just doing my duty. They smiled indulgently but didn’t outright dismiss me, so I took it as an opportunity to probe. After all, Tufo was after their daughter (or sister, if I could judge familial ties by age), which could’ve been, but didn’t have to be, an accident.

‘Oh, we have no idea. Any potential ties we have to that awful man are his fabrication.’ The man spoke in serious tones, but something about their glances told me there was more to the story.

An invitation to have lunch at their home gave me a happy opportunity to dig deeper, so I agreed to follow.

The silent walk took us to the hill overlooking the city, one speckled with several large homes and one I instantly recognized. These peoples’ house wasn’t as impressive as Lord Fuin’s mansion that sat across from theirs, but its tall, broad columns and well-kept greenery spoke of wealth, care, and power nevertheless.

The interior was as gorgeous as the exterior, daylight streaming from large windows and shining against polished surfaces. An unassuming butler crept up, took our bags — although I was reluctant to give mine away — and led us to the sitting room.

We sat, had tea served to us, and led polite conversation.

The talk revolved mostly about Fuin (the strange neighbor they’ve never seen) and the city, and I learned that they were sent in by the Eglasian queen to observe the town's behaviors and inform the leaders of our continent of any notable events. The conversation was strained, however, the elephant in the room reflected in my starts and stops every time silence fell. I coughed-muttered Tufo’s name once more. A repeated claim that they knew him in passing was met with a rather rudely raised eyebrow on my part.

‘I see you’re not one to back down, girl,’ the woman now spoke, but not with maliciousness. ‘Alright, we’re safe enough here.’

The older man coughed and chuckled at his wife’s reaction.

‘It’s not such big of a deal. Our best guess is that Tufo was performing a dark ritual, and human blood only half-works on that. Half-elf blood, on the other hand… That’s the likely reason our baby was targeted.’

A half-elf heritage was a likely reason Tufo chose her for his nefarious acts, I thought before I got truly confused. Neither of the parents had any non-human characteristics — they were beautiful but in a rather mundane way. A flash of teeth so white they bordered blue drew my attention to the younger man sitting a bit to the right, now grinning directly at me.

My gaze darted across the now oh-so-familiar characteristics, as I did sleep next to a half elf for a month now. His bluish skin, piercing eyes, silent grace, and shaggy hair covering the sides of his face suddenly made sense. But. He was young. And the two of them were so obviously a pair.

Noticing the shock on my face, he grinned and nodded.

The other two seemed uncomfortable, so I quickly clarified that I had no issue with any elven folk and that I was just unfamiliar with Eglasian partnership structures, to which they visibly relaxed.

‘Oh I mean we do always accept new blood if you want to learn more about… partnership structures.’ The woman joined the teasing, while the older man looked at them disapprovingly.

#dungeons and dragons #dnd #dnd 5e #5e #adventure #adventuring #campaign #dnd campaign #solo campaign #storytelling #story #fantasy story #fantasy #writer #writing #original content #oc #shadow sorcerer #caroline

[diaperdrysuitdrone1950]

MANSION BY THE LAKE

Mansion by the Lake

Chapter one- The Trade Off    

My new lakeside property was a small cottage – nothing too beer commercial-ish, but it would serve for weekends of partying and enjoying some time away from the city. I was lucky in that the lake was small and there were no powerboats on it. Most of the land on the lake, as well as the surrounding area was all crown land, so I didn’t worry much about trespassers or anyone else for that matter. The road in was a long dirt road that took almost 30 minutes of driving before it even hit one of the main back roads. My only neighbor was all the way across the lake, albeit in a rather sizable mansion that towered over the northern view of the water. I had spent the first few months fixing up the place – it was old and moldy but with a few weeks’ worth of work looked almost brand new.

It was about the start of June, when we had one of our usual Northern-Ontario heavy rainstorms. It started with huge gusts of wind, and was followed by a night of spectacular rain, thunder and lightning. The power went off relatively early, so I spent most of the night watching the lightening from my porch before I got cold and went to bed. I loved the sound of the rain rattling on the roof, and the thunder from inside my warm blankets.

Waking up in the morning, however, it became clear that the rain storm had been fiercer than I thought – there were branches and leaves everywhere – clearly the trees had gotten quite the shake. The power was still out, and taking a walk up the road, I could see that the power lines had been absolutely felled by several trees which had been completely knocked over. There was no way to drive over them either, and it would be several solid hours of walking before I would see another vehicle, let alone be in cell phone range.

Then I thought of my neighbor, his house used a separate road, and he might still have power. At the very least he might have a chainsaw that I could use to cut the logs off the road. I took a walk all the way around the property to his side of the lake. As I got closer, I saw repeated “no trespassing” signs all over the property. A few hundred meters out, when the property opened up into a clearing, the huge looming mansion came into view. There was a van parked out front as well as a truck, so I could only assume that the owner was home, but the lights were all dark. Even worse, a large barbed wire fence surrounded the area. A sign on it read that it was electrified.

I followed the fence to the front gate and saw that there was a large intercom. I tried hitting the buzzer but no sound came out of it. I thought perhaps his power was off so I tried touching the gate. No effect!

Suddenly, I heard a strange moan come from the direction of the house. I looked around and saw a dark figure come stumbling out of the front door. It seemed to be hugging itself and walking in a stilted fashion.

“Hello?”, I shouted.

Another moan responded, and as the figure came closer, I could see that he was dressed head to toe in black rubber. He appeared to be in a black rubber straitjacket, and a muzzle covered his face. He “ran” directly up to the gate and did a strange little dance.

“Are you ok?”, I asked.

He shook his head, no.

“Do you need help?”

He nodded affirmatively.

I opened the gate, and he sped out of there, past me, down the road, back towards my place. I caught up with him and slowed him down. I tried to unbuckle the muzzle but found that it was actually locked on! From the looks of it… all the rubber gear he was wearing was held in place with a lock. I struggled to see if I could open it, but to no avail.

“It’s locked – are there keys inside?”

He shook his head violently. I could see panic in the eyes, this guy really wanted out.

“Ok… I might have some tools back at my place, are you ok to go in there?”

The rubber guy nodded quickly.

I brought him into the cottage and quickly shut the door behind me. I took a brief look outside but no one seemed to be around. I guided my guest to a chair and sat him down. I put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, and said: “I’ll be back in a minute.”

The second my hand touched the rubber I noticed how smooth it felt and I suddenly was aware of the odor of latex just steaming off of the poor guy. I quickly snapped back into reality, realizing that I had been gently stroking his shoulder, taking in the texture, and that he was probably terribly frightened already. Being in such a vulnerable position, he probably would not appreciate it in the slightest.

“You’re going to be OK,” I said reassuringly, hoping that would ease him a bit.

I pushed other thoughts aside and ran down to the basement to find some tools. I opened up the toolbox and immediately found a pair of scissors, I held them for a second and then thought that maybe he wouldn’t want me cutting him out of that outfit, but rather would want me to get the locks off. No way would I be able to pick it, but I did have a set of bolt cutters that would work. I grabbed them from the wall and ran upstairs.

“Hold still a second, bud,” I said. “I’ll have you out of there in a jiffy!”

I first clipped the lock holding his muzzle on, and unstrapped it from his face. I then unbuckled the ball gag underneath.

“Thanks so much!” he blurted out. “Please… get me out of this thing!”

“Ok… no problem, I’m working on it.”

I hastily clipped the rest of the locks running down the straitjacket, the ankle restraints, and the harness that I discovered he was wearing underneath it all. I piled it all on the table next to me. My guest stood up and stretched, the tight rubber creaking all around him. He pulled the mask off and I could see that he was no older than I was, at the most 27 or 28.

“Please get the zipper in the back,” He said, and I unzipped the suit. He pulled his shoulders and arms out, sweat spilling out onto the floor. He must have been in there for some time. Gloves, boots, rubber toed socks, even a cock and ball sheath all came off and were piled together. He stood before me naked, drenched in sweat.

“Thank you… I thought I’d never get out of there,” he sighed, sounding quite relieved. “My name is Matt.”

“Ok Matt, I’m Ryan,” I held my hand out and we shook. “Have a seat, I’ll get you a towel and some clothes. There’s a shower in the bathroom if you like.” I came back a moment later with a towel and a set of jeans and a t-shirt.

“Again, thanks. Do you have a phone?”

I shook my head, no. “The storm took out the phone and cable. I was without power since this morning.”

“Shit,” he muttered. “I’ve been pretty incommunicado for the last month. I imagine there are some people pretty worried about me.”

“Oh?” I was burning with curiosity already, but didn’t want to push. “Is everything ok, I mean… well this just isn’t a usual way of meeting people. Do you live down the lake?”

Matt wrapped the towel around his waist. “I’m fine – really. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I would give you a ride into town after you shower up, but we’ll have to wait until the provincial guys get here to clear the road, I’m afraid. There’s some fallen trees blocking it.”

Matt nodded carefully, taking a look out of a nearby window. “That would be great. Sorry if I seem a bit sketchy.”

“No problem. Those clothes should fit you just fine – you look like you’re pretty much the same size as me. They’re just old clothes for kicking around in so it’s really no problem.”

I put the pot on for coffee and then saw him to the bathroom. He closed the door and the shower started running. Where did this guy come from? Obviously, he was up to some kind of bondage thing in that outfit, and he seemed a bit embarrassed about it. He really didn’t need to be – I had seen pictures like that on the Internet and was highly curious about it. He did also seem a bit scared, and that only served to deepen my curiosity. I had never even met my neighbor and this guy didn’t seem to live on the lake. This raised the question if maybe another person was back at the house, perhaps also in some kind of trouble.

I walked into the kitchen and poured myself a cup of joe. Sipping at it I returned to the table and saw the pile of black, slimy rubber lying flaccidly on the table. I grabbed the suit and shook it out a bit. As the suit made a low rumbling noise, almost a little like thunder. Sweat dripped out of the legs and dribbled onto my shoe. The scent of sweat and latex together was overwhelming, slightly sickly but inviting and familiar. I could feel an erection forming. I slid my hand into the armpit of the suit just letting it glide a little bit into the arm. Lubed with sweat I could feel the now cold, smooth rubber gripping around my hand and forearm, I felt as if I could just slide right in, it was practically sucking me right in –

I heard a cough from nearby and saw Matt standing there. He was freshened up considerably and now dressed in normal clothes. He had a bit of a smirk on his face. I turned a bit red and tried to pull my arm out quickly as I lay the suit back on the table. Half of it flopped down but it was obviously stuck to my forearm.

“I made coffee,” I said quite feebly, obviously embarrassed.

Matt chuckled a little. “It’s ok. I get it.”

He walked into the kitchen and found the coffee pot and mug that I had set out for him. He poured himself a cup. He took a sip and asked. “Are you into rubber?”

“Well… I mean…. I’ve seen photos on the Internet,” I waffled, not sure what to say.

“What sort of photos?” he grinned.

“Photos of men looking pretty much like you did about five minutes ago,” I blushed. “Some of the heavier ones where they looked like the gimp in Pulp Fiction, I always wondered what it was like to be that guy. “

“Have you ever done anything with it?” Matt casually sipped at his coffee.

I thought about it for a second. I had spent a fair bit of time perusing some fetish sites on some lonely nights, but never really thought seriously about it. “Well I guess that I thought that it was something that weird people did. Dangerous people. I wasn’t ready to find out the hard way that I couldn’t trust them.”

“Understandable…. Believe me… completely understandable,” he smiled an odd smile, and sat down at the table, looking casually out the window, across the lake to my neighbor’s house. “You can try that stuff on if you like.” Matt indicated.

I pulled my hand out quickly and it felt cold in the open air. “I couldn’t really…”

“Why not?” he frowned, as if I said something completely absurd. “Listen man, you can have it. All of it. I’m not going to put it on again.”

I should have sensed something was wrong, but my ears were hot and just hearing the idea of being inside the suit made me instantly rock hard. My cock was begging to be let out of my jeans. Seeing Matt wearing my jeans and a t-shirt, the same muscular build, the same height, he was obviously my size, I would have no problem fitting into the rubber. I thought about how fine he looked when I first laid eyes on him, embodying a fantasy that I barely knew I had. Now the idea was just burning a hole right through me.

Matt must have been reading my mind. “Look, we’re obviously the same size. Just go for it. You will probably like it as much as I first did.  I’ll help you get in it. “

I hesitated for a second, but before I could stop myself, I was peeling off my shirt. “So… what is your story anyway? I don’t want to pry, but how did you end up here?”

Matt took another glance across the lake. For a split second I thought I saw someone walking on the property, but I wasn’t sure. Matt didn’t seem concerned.

“Well, I work at a bar in Toronto, I’m going to school part time. Pretty regular sort of life really… as you might have guessed I also had an interest in fetish and bondage. Just like you, I read about it on the internet and became a little obsessed. Mostly just obsessed with looking at pictures and reading stories at first.”

I peeled off my underwear, revealing my hard cock dripping with precum and picked up the suit. Matt stood up picking something up off the table. “You should really wrap your package.   Put on the cock and balls sheath. Trust me, your cock feels better in the suit surrounded by another layer of rubber. Here, I’ll help you.”

The rubber sheath slid right over my package and tightened like a cock ring at the base. I bobbed my cock up and down once, and felt it grow inside. The rubber confines stretched around my member, looking sleek and black. Matt then picked up the suit, shook it back out into shape and held it open before me.

“In ya go!” He chirped with a smile. I put one foot in, and then the other. Matt pulled it up around me, and I could feel the perfect snug fit sliding up my legs. An electric tingle ran up my body as it hugged me tight. “…so anyway… I actually lurked on a couple of the sites for a long time. I didn’t post a photo for almost a year, and when I did, I immediately got tons of hits.”

“I don’t blame them. You’re pretty dam cute.”

“Heh thanks. You’re not bad yourself, man,” Matt said as he tugged the rubber up onto my hips. “There really isn’t much of a rubber community in Toronto – from the internet it seems like it’s all in other countries. I really sold myself on the idea that I wanted to try experiencing a true, inescapable session of total rubber enclosure and slavery, at least for a little while. Really, finding sane people into that kind of thing is really hard.”

I slid my arms into the sleeves and pushed forward. The rubber came up onto my shoulders and greased with Matt’s sweat started clinging to my chest. Matt zipped up the back and the entire suit seemed to tighten around my back, shoulders and neck. I moved around a bit, my skin feeling more alive than I had ever known it. I felt ready to come right through the suit and knock a wall down with the force of it.

“This is fucken awesome!”

“I know!” Matt laughed.

I started feeling myself all over.

“Have a seat!”  Matt instructed

I sat down and Matt picked the socks off the table. “Trust me, it’s better when it’s all over you. If you like that so far – you’re gonna love this.”

Matt started working the rubber socks onto my feet. He then slid the boots on. They took a minute to lace up as they ran practically up my entire shin. An ankle restraint was then buckled on overtop. I stood up, walking around, feeling it move on my body.

“Anyway, so I finally talked to this one guy online. Sounded like he’s a dedicated rubberiest. He definitely had a ton of gear in his photos. Sounded pretty sane and definitely wanted to get into a lot of the same stuff that I was into. So, I arranged a time and place to meet – local bar, nothing fancy.”

Matt worked up the tight elbow length gloves onto my arms and buckled the wrist restraints on. He picked up the harness: “You want to try this too?”

Thinking of the many photos I’d seen of rubber gimps that were clad in a similar harness how could I say no? I wasn’t locked in after all. I nodded my head affirmatively. He started strapping it on me.

“Awesome. Man, this looks great on you, I think even better than it looked on me,” Matt said, admiring his handiwork.

“Feels so fucken awesome.” I replied.  

Matt continued, “So, I met this guy, and he turned out to be pretty down to earth. Used to be a doctor, now he just plays the stocks all the time – never loses. We met at a hotel a couple of times and he let me experiment with different types of gear. He seemed really enthusiastic, and I’ll admit he pushed my limits in the best ways possible. I gave him my arm and he eagerly twisted it.”

“Sounds great! Where do I find this guy?” I joked.

                        Matt pulled the mask from the table, and without asking stepped behind me and pulled it over my head. The feeling of it tightening around my face was indescribable. I felt my identity slipping away.

“I have got to see a mirror.” I indicated.

“One second, you need a finishing touch,” Matt grabbed the collar from the table and buckled it onto my neck. I instantly felt more submissive. like a rubberized object. I walked to a mirror hanging in the hallway. I was surprised at the black alien figure staring back at me.

I thought I couldn’t get any hornier, but my cock just seemed to grow harder and harder. I had become that rubber gimp I always fantasized about. Well, sort of… no one was tying me up in this gear.

“You look great, really great,” Matt exclaimed. Even he seemed excited.

I was running my rubberized hands all over my body. I couldn’t believe the sensation. I wandered back by the table. A few stray pieces of gear still lay on the table, one of them quite formidable. I took a cautious deep breath.

“Oh, the straitjacket,” Matt nodded with a big grin.

He picked up and held it up. “Maybe you don’t want to get into that. It’s a bit much all at once. You can kind of get into a bit of a frenzy where you just want everything on you at once.”

“I’ll say!”, I laughed.

Matt took another glance out the window. “What the heck right? It’s not like I’m going to go anywhere on you. You said yourself the road is blocked.”

I shrugged, thinking far too much with my pecker and not thinking for a second about the dangerous territory I was skirting.

I yelled, “JUST DO IT!” as I held my arms out. He draped the straight jacket over them. He moved around the back and zipped up the rear of the jacket.  Then started pulling belts and fastening buckles on the back nice and tight.

Matt continued, “Where was I? Oh yeah… so finally we meet one weekend and he gets me totally rubbered up, head to toe, pretty much like you are now. This was the usual for us by this point. Only instead of going to the hotel, we decided to go to his house, as it had his entire and extremely sizable gear collection.  I was fascinated and eager to try more.”

Matt pulled my arms across my body, buckling them in place. A strap come over the front providing them no movement. He jocked me up in the crotch strap that tightened on my inner thighs, which got me even harder.  Now, there was no way I could get out of this jacket on my own.

My temperature seemed to skyrocket. I could feel my own sweat filling the suit. I tried to move on my own but all I felt was rubber grinding on rubber. I was positively elated.

“I am really loving this!”  I indicated.

Matt continued, “So we get up to his place and he leads me down to his basement, it’s a dungeon. I mean a real dungeon. If there’s a weird bondage contraption you’ve seen online – he’s got it. Most importantly it’s got a real cell and the door opens only with a key code that he knows, some kind of electric, digital lock gizmo. I was totally excited for a real bondage session with this guy.”

He paused briefly, “I’d been having such a great time. Then he starts talking about control, and taking total control over me, making me a 24/7 rubber slave, at least eventually. I don’t mean starting slow and working up to 24/7 – I mean he wanted to start at 24/7 but I was supposed to be less than a slave – that was what he wanted me to work up to.”

A shiver ran down my spine!  Suddenly I started coming back to reality. Why did I feel like his story was taking a turn for the worse?

“Matt, why don’t I like where this is going?” I asked.

Matt led me to the couch, carrying the rest of the gear with him. He sat me down.

“Well, for starters…”

Suddenly Matt pinched my nose unexpectedly. Instinctually I opened my mouth. He shoved the red rubber ball gag in and buckled it behind my head.

I tried pushing it out with my tongue but to no avail. I tried to sit up. Facing me, Matt sat on my lap, pinning me. He slipped the muzzle over my head and quickly strapped it all on tightly. I shook my head side to side screaming into the gag.  It was obvious that the sound was far too muffled, and we were far too isolated. Matt grabbed my chin and held it still.

“Shhhhhh… You see I didn’t want to be a 24/7 anything except perhaps being a student. It was way too much, but he never even gave me the opportunity to say ‘no’. I have been his rubber THING for over a month. Held in that dungeon. Oh, there was some horny times, yeah, but I wanted my life back.”

Matt continued, “I had almost given up hope on the idea when the power went out. He must have been asleep when it happened. I think some kind of safety feature opened up the electronic locks and I was able to walk right out the door. Right into your arms.”

“This is the first time I’ve worn anything but rubber in all that time. Oh, and since you asked where you could find this guy – well, he’s looking in the window right now!”

Startled, I looked behind me to the window out to the deck and saw a tall, muscular, bald man, probably in his late forties. He was dressed like a biker but all in leather and rubber with aviator sunglasses hiding his eyes. His face was cold and expressionless.

Matt pulled me up to my feet.

“Boy,” the man’s voice was deep and commanding. I got an instant chill. “Did you really think you’d get away?”

Matt stood his ground. “Sir – I’m done. I don’t want this anymore. It was dumb luck that I got away and you won’t get me that easily again without a real fight. I’m not stupid – I won’t go telling anyone about this. I just want to go home and go back to my life. I’ll call it a fun misadventure.”

“You think it’s just that easy, Boy?” the man snarled.

“Maybe not. Maybe you are right and I’ll want to come back to you. Right now, I doubt it. I’ve had enough,” Matt’s voice trembled. He too was genuinely afraid.

Me… I was shaking.

Matt continued, “I’ve found ya a replacement though. He’s hungry for it – even more than I was. I’ll give him to you and that makes me an accomplice. Then we’re both happy. You know I can’t turn you in.  Just let me leave.”

I started shrieking hysterically inside my rubber prison. I tried to make a break for it, running past the rubber man as he stepped into my cottage. He snapped an arm out and caught me by the neck. His other hand went directly to my cock and he gripped my still hard member.

“Mmmmm,” he growled. “He’s horny. Very horny, horny as fuck.”

“You see?” Matt pleaded. “He’s perfect for you Sir. Take him with you – he can be your new slave or whatever the fuck it is you want him to become. I’m going to take a long walk into town, and catch a bus back to Toronto. You’ll have your hands full starting your…. Training all over again.”

The man sniffed me like the bouquet of a fine wine. “Ok boy. You have a deal. Don’t think I won’t come looking for you eventually.  You owe me! We still have a binding contract.  We still have unfinished business.”

The man pulled a leash out of his pocket and clipped it too Matt’s collar that was now around my neck. He started pulling me out the door, and down the road to his house.

“Alright boy, I guess it’s you and me now. You and I are going to have to work very hard over the next couple of days sorting a few things out.”

I pulled as best I could but I had no leverage at all. What was even worse was that a part deep inside of me really wanted to go with him. Either way, I was about to find out the rubber horrors that lay beyond the dark windows of that mansion by the lake.

I was practically dragged by the neck all the way down the road. Completely unable even to look back to see the safety of my home quickly falling away from me, nor able to see the treacherous man that I tried to help.  I could only focus instead on the mansion quickly looming over me. The windows of the house seemed black and empty, hungry even and I was utterly panicked but unable to fight in any way at all.

As we entered the front gate, my captor paused for a moment to shut the gate and flipped a switch. There was a humming noise and I could only assume that the fence was now electrified. Presumably it had been knocked out by the same storm that had affected the power at my cottage earlier.  I could hear the rumble of a generator in the distance. Even if I was able to get out of my rubber prison, there was at least one more prison that I would have to plan an escape from.

We entered through the front door, and I only had a few seconds to notice the opulence of the interior – clearly my captor was a man of considerable means given the nature of the interior décor. It was a very classical design, riddled with antiques and art – somewhere beyond the scent of rubber I could smell the distinct odor of fine cigars and mahogany. All this was moot however as we raced through the first floor directly to a large metal door opening to a cellar. My captor punched in an elaborate code into a keypad on the door, and it unlocked with a heavy click. There followed another such door at a vestibule before entering the rest of the basement.

There were only a few rooms with the doors open where I could make out what was inside. One was a carefully-marked equipment room, in which I could make out several devices of torture, as well as rubber and leather clothing, gas masks and boots. Another was a gym of some kind although I didn’t recognize all of the equipment. The man was huge however, and it wouldn’t surprise me if he had a very particular regimen. We stopped at a door that opened into what could only be described as a cell. Inside were only a steel toilet, a steel sink, and a bench with a mattress, which also had a rubber mattress cover on it. I was sat down and my collar was clipped to a hook on the wall.

“Stay right here, boy,” the man said, and walked quickly out of the room.

I could hear him shuffling with something down the hall so I immediately started thrashing about trying to release myself. It was to no avail. The straitjacket provided me with absolutely no leverage at all, and the best that I could do was feel my rubberized arms sliding about in the smooth interior. There was no way to generate enough force or violence to be able to escape. I was completely trapped inside. Any resistant was futile. I gave up and sat back panting for a few minutes before he returned carrying a box with several items inside.

He first dumped several padlocks out onto the bench beside me and locked the restraints on my legs before locking them together. Another lock was attached to my collar.

“You are not going to be able to walk anywhere in a hurry. Your collar is locked to the wall,” my captor said. “I am going to take off your straitjacket now. If you make any trouble you will regret it very quickly. Nod if you understand.”

I nodded. This man wasn’t going to take any chances and I would have to wait until later for a slip-up. He reached forward and unbuckled the straitjacket. He then applied locks to each of the buckles on my harness. My wrist restraints were removed but quickly replaced with a pair of rubber mitts rendering my hands completely useless. They too, were then locked together. He lit a cigar and stood before me, admiring his work.

“Alright boy, listen up! When you earn the right to speak, you will call me ‘Master’ or ‘Sir’”, he commanded. “I will call you whatever the fuck I want. As you may have guessed, yes, I kept your friend Matt here for some time. He might have told you it was against his will but I can assure you that he enjoyed it far too much for it to be involuntary. From the size of your hard-on I can only assume that you are much the same as Matt.”

He paused briefly for me to think, “Number one, I have fixed the fail-safe in my backup generator, so even if the power is out, the doors will remain locked. They will not open automatically as before. The electric fence outside will remain electrified. Furthermore…”

“Master” removed a remote control from his pocket and pressed a button. An intense searing shock came from my collar and I was instantly immobilized. I screamed quickly but the cry was severely muffled by my gag and muzzle.

“I carry this with me at all times. Now that the power is back up on the fence you will be unable to walk more than 25 meters beyond that fence without it triggering automatically. I have it set currently to the medium setting; however, walking outside the perimeter will automatically trigger it at the highest setting.

“Obviously, I have quite the obsession with rubber. I have always wanted to have the ultimate rubber companion and have for years thought about the training and conditioning that I wanted it to have. I had already started an aggressive program with Matt, but he managed to escape before it took hold, thanks to nothing more than a simple power failure. I have already taken steps to ensure that it won’t happen again.”

“You might be able to escape from your restraints down here, but before you even reach the upstairs, you will be unable to make it past the electric locks on the doors. Do not think that I don’t want to have you upstairs with me – there is much that I want you to do up there, but for now this will be your world.”

“Right now, you are only to be an object of pure rubbered physicality. Your body is mine to use and shape as I see fit. You are a pure Gimp for nothing more than my enjoyment and your training. As I see eagerness and obedience grow in you, I will start small, and eventually you will be in a position to start obeying more complex desires, in which case I will start training you as my Puppy. If you can learn the kind of devotion and obedience that I expect of a dog successfully then I may teach you how to be a Slave worthy of serving my needs, yet worthy of some greater levels of autonomy and expression, a chance to have some of yourself back. If you can earn those privileges you will eventually become my Boy, hopefully a rubber boy who has finally realized all that I can teach and give him, and completely willing to continue to submit to my authority. I guarantee with each of these titles that you earn, you will find yourself glowing with pride.”

Master continued, “But I’m getting ahead of myself. I am speaking of your achievements possibly years down the line and you have only been here a few minutes. I’m sure that right now you are terrified and alone – and rightly so, this is an incredibly fearsome first step you have taken and not of your own will. I have some further preparations to make, so there is no time like the present to begin your conditioning. Come with me…”

He clipped a leash to my neck and unclipped me from the wall. We shuffled down the hall to a room full of different racks, elaborate chairs, slings, and crosses. I was sat down into a fearsome leather barber’s chair covered in straps. The D-rings on my collar, harness and restraints were all clipped in place and additional restraints added on. All the while my mind was racing – he intended me to stay here for years – forever really from the sounds of things, and indulge in some perverse education of his? I wanted to cry.  I had never felt so helpless before. While my fears of him killing started to, they were now being replace with other fears. He had other plans in store for me. Plans that freighting me almost as much as the loss of my life at his hands.  

“Now, I am going to get a look at my plaything. Don’t even try to speak or I will activate the collar.”

Master removed the muzzle, gag and mask. My head was dripping with sweat; it ran down my face and into my eyes. Master dried my head with a towel.

“Excellent. A fair trade for Matt if I may say so. You are a good-looking boy, and I must say that rubber really does become you. Good thing, as it is all you are going to be wearing for some time. Matt had been wearing almost nothing but rubber, for over a month – you should expect much longer before your skin is allowed to touch anything else.”

Master ran his hand through my long wavey hair, frowning.

“This hair is far too long, though, and not something that you have earned. It will have to go.”

From nearby, master pulled a set of clippers and without hesitation set to buzzing all of the hair from my head, long locks of it falling pathetically into my lap. These were quickly brushed aside and he swept up. He then held up a mirror for me to see. Looking up I was shaved completely bald. I could hardly recognize myself at all. For a second, I thought that someone else was looking back. He was right though, seeing myself bound completely in rubber my horniness came back with a vengeance. I’ll admit, I’d fantasized about similar scenarios, but the reality of it was utterly terrifying. I blamed it on blind nervous energy. I’d heard before about soldiers that experienced erections during battle for the same reason.

Part of my anxiety diminished.  As my fear of being killed by this guy faded, the reality of my new life seemed to take over. Something, deep within me, was energizing me.   I thought of POW’s who survived captivity for multiple years.  Perhaps I could do this.  

“Not bad,” Master said. “Normally I like a nice crew cut or a high-and-tight on my boy, but you will earn that look in time. For now, the tactile experience of a regularly shaved head will allow you to enjoy THIS…”

With that he forced a gas mask with a rubber hood over my face. It was already lubed on the inside allowing it to slide directly on, despite how tight it was. Some kind of internal gag forced its way into my mouth. It was pumped up and I could feel the bit swelling in my mouth. Tubes fit directly into my nostrils. Earbuds almost naturally fell into my ear cavity and a white noise could be heard starting up. Master unzipped my cock, removing the sheath.  He placed what felt like a large suction device of some kind up on my dick, with a slow rhythm starting to slowly jerk me off. A trolley with several TV monitors was rolled up in front of me and switched on. A sweet scent started to pump into the gas mask, though the air seemed clearer somehow. The screens flickered to life with videos of rubber and bondage pornography playing on each.

Master’s voice came into the earbuds. “Just lie back and enjoy the show, boy. Don’t fight it. I will be monitoring closely. This is the first of many such sessions that I will expect you to complete, so try to adjust yourself accordingly. I will be back soon – don’t worry, I have your breathing on a monitor which will alert me if there is a problem.”

Scene after scene of erotic rubber pleasure played before me. The suction of the device rose and fell, never quite seeming to bring me to climax. I would get so close and then be denied as the system slowed itself down. A constant mesmerizing beat played slowly in my ear.

Even more horrifyingly, scenes showing removal from bondage, removal of rubber, or even normal sex, normal life were met with a series of painful shocks from the collar. My earbuds would play a harsh, erratic tone. I made the connection quickly – I was to associate only pleasure with being a rubber gimp, and a complete aversion to anything else. I was only to enjoy being his rubber plaything, and any other thoughts were to be pushed aside.

The first of many such sessions? How many is many? A month was not enough to keep Matt from escaping and that was only after he was given a miracle opportunity of Master’s elaborate security breaking down. Surely Master would be planning for this too – so how long would this phase of training continue? A month? Two months? A year? MORE?

The shocks ended and the slow jerking off began again. The cycle continued for what seemed like hours… how long would this go on? I completely lost track of time and could concentrate only on the sheer pleasure of my situation.

[chaoticcultist]

Sirens don't really do Scary Stories.

“-and on her door-handle… WAS THE RUSTY HOOK!!!” Giulia yelled with a big grin as Luca shrieked. Alberto decided he liked horror stories, they always resulted in Luca clinging to him.

The adults around the backyard bonfire chuckled at their children’s antics. “Very good, Giulietta.” Massimo’s baritone voice rumbled sweetly. “You even had me scared at the end there.”

“What about you guys?” Alberto asked, directing the question to the three elder Paguros across from him and the younger one in his arms. “Do you have any scary stories? Like, with ghost-fish and stuff?”

Luca looked up at Alberto, not at all loosening his grip on the older boy. “Sirens don’t really do scary stories. I think that’s a surface thing.”

“Yeah,” Lorenzo piped up. “The ocean is already a terrifying place without making up more things to be scared of.”

Alberto just blew a short raspberry. “That’s lame.”

Daniella seemed to mull over something before coming to a conclusion. “There was something pretty horrifying that happened in the reef colony about 8 years ago. I had never been so scared in my life…”

Luca sat back up straight, still holding Alberto’s hand. He didn’t look frightened anymore, just apprehensive and uncomfortable as he addressed his mom. “Are you talking about the golden eyed man?”

Daniella shuddered at the words as they left her child's mouth. Nonna Paguro placed a comforting hand on her shoulder in response. “Go ahead and tell the story, we all need to get it off our chests. Don’t we?”

She gave an unreadable look to Luca and he squirmed uncomfortably.

Massimo waved his hand in front of him. “Don’t feel forced. This is meant to be for fun, we wouldn’t want to dredge up bad memories.”

Lorenzo shrugged. “I don’t know… as a siren himself, Alberto should hear the story at least once. Now’s as good a time as any.”

Luca moved back in closer to Alberto’s side, gripping his arm with his free hand. “I hate this story.” he frowned.

Daniella took a deep breath. “Just a little while after Luca had turned 6, he started having these terrible dreams. He would cry to us about a golden eyed man watching him, and he stopped being able to sleep through the night.” she rubbed at her eyes tiredly, remembering those sleepless nights when she thought her biggest problem was a restless guppy. “One day, he refused to set a fin in his room. He said the golden eyed man would take him if he did…”

Her gaze went to her mom, and the wrinkled old woman gave a small nod. “He was so insistent, I actually took him to sleep in the goatfish barn with me that night, just to show him the alternative to sleeping in his bed. I thought it was so silly, until I saw it.” The old woman looked directly at Luca, almost as if making sure he was still there.

Alberto didn’t like this story either. He held onto Luca tighter, wanting the confirmation he was still there too. Something about this tale seemed horribly familiar somehow. “In the middle of the night, the silhouette of… something like a siren, was hovering outside Luca’s window. It just stayed there for so long, I couldn’t move a muscle. I held Luca tight so he couldn’t move a muscle either.” She wrapped her arms around herself as some sort of macabre visual aid.

“After a while, it finally left, but as it turned, I could see that it had huge, unnaturally gold glowing eyes.” Her own eyes were wide, the memory playing back in her mind in perfect detail.

It was Lorenzo’s turn to pick up the story. “That morning, we woke up to one of our neighbors screaming. She had gone to wake up her daughter, but the guppy was just… gone.” He shuddered, taking his wife’s hand. “When mom brought Luca back in and told us what she saw, Luca started crying and told us-”

“Cod, I’ll never get that out of my head!” Daniella interrupted with gritted teeth.

“What?!” Giulia asked anxiously, on the edge of her seat and feeling like her teeth were going to shatter.

“The one part of this story I actually remember…” Luca mumbled miserably from Alberto’s grip. The older boy was shaking like a leaf. “I told them ‘he couldn’t find me, so he took her instead.’.”

Daniella was gripping at her heart as Alberto gulped down a breath. “So Alberto, you see, the ocean can be a very scary place. We feel it’s important you know that… those creatures are out there, just in case…”

Alberto stood up, bringing the tightly held Luca up with him, and walked over to sit between Daniella and Massimo. He pulled on Massimo’s shirt and Daniella’s skirt to signal them to scoot closer. They, along with everyone else around the fire, shifted to be closer to the two boy’s. Luca looked a bit dissociated, and Alberto looked downright terrified.

“Can I tell you my own story?” He asked with a shaking voice.

Nonna Paguro understood what the boy wanted to tell immediately. “Go ahead, Alberto. Did you also see the golden eyed man?”

Alberto swallowed hard. “When I was seven, I was on top of our tower watching the anchovies- stars with my dad when I saw something in the water. What looked like glowing yellow eyes staring right at me from the shallows. I told my dad about it but he just sort of brushed me off. He told me not to worry because ‘they can’t come up on land like us.’.”

Luca hummed curiously as Alberto cleared his throat, looking almost guiltily up at the Paguro parents. “He also told me to stay out of the water for a few days, they’d get bored and find some other kid to eat.”

#luca #luca pixar #luca x alberto #luberto #but that's not the main focus #horror #horror stories #around a bonfire #because we're classy like that #in the ocean #there's always someone higher on the food chain #nothing like family bonding through shared trauma

[wh6res]

chase — renhyuck

“needy kitty. i can’t wait for purge night.”

tw bullying, violence, swearing, yandere themes, possessive themes, blood, weapons (a gun, a grenade), implied noncon, implied kidnapping, mentions of stalking

disc i dont condone this behavior

wc 5k

‏‏‎ ‎

29 hours before the annual purge

“hold her down—i said hold her down, idiot!”

putting everything into account, they saw you more like a glorified chew toy than an actual person. 

they ruined your life simultaneously and it's ironic, that despite being sworn rivals, it seems you were their neutral ground—after one has had their own fun, you’re passed on to the other person so they can deliver that final, shattering blow that weakens your resolve. 

it was meant to be that way because it had always been that way. you’re the unlucky loser that ignited the worse sides of both lee haechan and huang renjun. 

they’re like oil and water; they don’t mix but with you, they found a compromise. stealing your lunch money, trashing your homework, quickies in between lectures. all of these should’ve been enough to give them a good power trip. but they’ve developed a hunger so severe that these past instances are but mere crumbs that hardly satisfy their cravings. 

it was beyond exhausting, being caught in between two headstrong people that were unwilling to back down at any cost. their aggression and anger towards each other directly being channeled onto you as they shove and swing you around like some ragdoll. 

you weren’t a bunch of kids, you knew that. you don’t cry and sob and say that it’s unfair, you hold your chin high and walk up to the guidance counselor’s office to report them for bullying. but you never should’ve underestimated the power of money and their respective families’ broad network of connections. 

without a doubt, the empty promises for justice is what broke your heart the most. it breaks with every bruise, every tight grip, and every nasty name the people willingly turned a blind eye to. 

it’s sad but it was a reality you taught yourself to get used to—the meek mouse learning how to evade the cats hot on her trail. 

but you weren’t as lucky today. 

“i am holding her down.”

a pair of lips comes in contact with your neck. its feathery and light at first until its biting down to mark you with his teeth. not too strong to draw blood, but enough to dent the surface of the skin. 

haechan has an oral fixation. biting his lips. his nails. whenever you see him, he always has a lollipop on his mouth and if he doesn’t, he’s painting hickeys across your skin. you hated his oral fixation, especially when makeup and clothes proved useless to hide the marks he gives you. 

“why run?” renjun asks you, slipping his fingers underneath your skirt as he kneels. “you know you have nowhere to hide in the campus.”

haechan snorts. “or anywhere else.”

it’s always the same thing. you go to school. you sit in your first period for thirty minutes until one of them shows up. then the other boy probably felt a gut instinct that he’s missing out on the fun. last time, it was an empty classroom in the abandoned left wing. 

they like taking you there all the time, it was always dark, the blinds pulled and shut tight. not to mention it was incredibly dusty. but both male knew you’re afraid of the dark, exactly why it’s their favorite spot. but empty classrooms and supply closets are close seconds, too. 

“you’re so pathetic. useless—only know how to whine like a fucking pornstar,” he quickly comments, feeling you arch against him when renjun’s tongue comes in contact with the pearl between your legs. “my cumdump.”

you feel a sharp exhale against your lower lips. you shudder. renjun clicks his tongue in annoyance. “can you shut up? you’re making my dick soft with all that talking.”

but haechan had ignored him completely, blissfully ignorant of the petite boy’s frustrations as he angles your head up to crash his lips onto yours. when he slightly pulls away, still playfully nibbling your bottom lip, what he said next made your blood run cold. 

“needy kitty. i can’t wait for purge night.”‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

6 hours before the annual purge

the price to pay for protection started rising again this year and you, much like your neighbors, are in a sense of turmoil. jamming the doors with cabinets and nailing your windows with wood is hardly enough to satisfy the gnawing feeling in your stomach. much less when you didn’t even have a weapon to wield other than a wooden bat and a cheap taser you bought on sale. 

“its not like anyone will be coming for you, right?” the little girl says, touching the randomest stuff in your apartment. her name was naeun and she never really liked pink and sparkles like most girls her age, maybe that’s why she took a liking to you. 

her mom works a 9 to 5 and her grandma stays with her on occasion. but the old lady loved to sleep, naeun said, so she gets the chance to slip out and come knocking on your door. you tried shooing her out of your apartment countless times but she’s stubborn. 

she reminds you of yourself. 

“well, i hope no one does.” you joked, putting on a turtleneck. 

naeun’s mom doesn't like you as much as it is, but if you yourself let naeun see the bruises on your skin? you’d hate yourself forever. “now, come on little missy, go back to your grandma. i need to head over to the bank to settle my protection fees.”

“but you just said no one is going to come for you anyway,” she whines stomping towards the door. “mom already settled ours yesterday becase grammy forced her to. mommy said it was just a waste of money because who’d bother to rob us anyway?”

a memory flashes in your head. two boys who’ve sandwiched you between them in the dark of a fucking supply closet at uni. wandering hands, labored whispers, curt giggles, one pair of lips trailing up your neck while the other up your inner thigh.

“needy kitty. i can’t wait for purge night.”

you needed that protection. that was no slip up because haechan never makes mistakes. if he wanted to make you feel like some animal on the run after catching a whiff of trouble then he sure is doing a good job. 

“hey! i think you just went someplace else there,” naeun says, nudging your side irritably to get your attention again. 

you try forcing out a chuckle but it doesn't work, still deeply peeved by a memory from last week replaying vividly in your mind. if they ever mean what they meant (which you know they do) then this is now more than just trying to get through the night—you have to survive, prepare, and pray neither of them finds you. 

“i think your grandma’s right in doing what she did, naeun. with humans, you’ll never know.”

and just like that naeun went silent, bid you goodbye, and disappeared behind the apartment door.

the bank was a quick walk from your apartment. you hardly broke much sweat and you even managed to stop by the grocery store to make some last-minute runs. the store’s nearly empty, deserted of any human being as the seconds slowly but surely ticked away. it was only when you walked past aisle seven did you pause, the hairs on your back standing as a slow chill crawled up your spine. 

you look over your shoulder. 

no one’s there. 

you swallow, quickly looking down your watch to check the time as you made your way to counter. 3 hours before the annual purge. you needed to get your ass moving. you just need to grab one more thing and you’ll best be on your way. 

you practically ran towards the dairy section and just as you spin around, strawberry ice cream pint in your hands, you jump as he appears before you in thin air and you drop whatever you’re holding. 

“such a skittish little kitten,” renjun clicks his tongue, bending down to retrieve the ice cream on the floor. “here you go.”

you couldn’t even stare at him in the eye. your hands shook but it wasn’t because of the cold desert. now you get it. it’s his eyes you felt on you earlier, ever intrusive and piercing as he watched you from afar. was he stalking you?

“i didn’t quite catch a thank you, kitty.”

how foolish of you to think he’ll let you duck away without at least speaking to him, hm?

“thank… thank you?”

renjun grins, satisfied with your stuttering as he raises a hand to ruffle your hair—he ignores how you flinched away from him—before walking away with one hand in his coat pocket, whistling an eerie tune that can haunt your nightmares way after purge night. 

“see you later, kitten.”

if it wasn’t the whistling that set you on edge or that clear promise of your doom—it’s the pack of zip ties and duct tape in his hands.‏‏‎ ‎

you were watching a rerun of your favorite morning reality tv when it cuts to the dreaded blue screen showing the flag of korea. 

this is not a test.

this is your emergency broadcast system announcing the commencement of the annual purge sanctioned by the south korean government. 

weapons of class 4 and lower have been authorized for use during the purge. all other weapons are restricted. 

commencing at the siren, any and all crime, including murder, will be legal for 12 continuous hours. 

police, fire, and emergency medical services will be unavailable until tomorrow morning until 7 am when the purge concludes. 

may god be with you all.

you’ll never get used to the blaring siren that echoes through the empty streets. you can feel the floor vibrating and it travels throughout your whole body as the dread starts sinking deep into your skin. 

you’ve already double checked all your windows and the front door. activated the security system provided by the bank. and you’ve also already charged your taser and have hammered down nails into your wooden bat. fine. if they wanted to scare and bully you into a panicked frenzy, it did its job but fuck no will you go down without a fight. 

you shut all the lights, the apartment basking in the moonlight glow brought by the translucent curtains as you make your way to your bedroom, nearest the emergency exit just in case they barge through your front door by force. 

at first, nothing happened. it was peaceful. tranquil. you can hear a pin drop with how quiet it was. both inside and outside. you were almost tempted to cover your mouth in case you were breathing too loud. 

it’s silent. until it wasn’t.

your phone rings. it’s there, vibrating on your desk and you make long strides until you’re face to face with a set of numbers on your screen. an unregistered contact. there’s a debate inside your head whether to answer it or not, fingers hovering between the red and green button… until it eventually lands on the green. 

you put it up to your ear, hands sweating as you wait with bated breath for the person on the other end to speak. 

“kitten?”

it’s renjun. you don’t answer. 

“i can hear you breathing, you know. i can’t wait to see you. we’ll have so much fun together. it’s sad that i have to share with that imbecile but better half of you than nothing of you, right?” he laughs and you feel a rush of anger surge through you. yet, you don’t bother to give him the satisfaction of a reply. 

“i can see you’re angry, little kitty. while it’s cute and hot… don’t be. turn that frown upside down for me, wouldn’t you?”

but the blinds are drawn he couldn’t have seen you—

“you’re never going to get me, you fucking bastard. i’m not scared of you,” you sure do hope he can’t hear the tremble in your voice. “whatever you plan on doing to me, you’ll fail.”

you walk back slowly, eyes darting everywhere to look for a camera they could’ve installed in your room. they have connections and the money to do it so you won’t put it past them. 

“oh, my stupid kitty. how can we fail when we already got a head start?” 

the floorboard behind you creaks and before you could turn around, someone slams your head against the desk. you hear a crack, whether it’s the screen of your laptop or your nose, you couldn’t tell. the person is agile and silent as he maneuvers you to the ground and seals your lips with duct tape. 

“after all,” haechan giggles. “you can’t lock out what’s already inside, kitten.”

your phone lands somewhere near your head. renjun has already dropped the call and the line goes silent. 

squirming, you glared at the person on top of you. is this how you’re gonna go? you can’t deny, even you yourself find this pathetic. the security alarms you bought, the nail-studded bat, your taser, everything was all for naught? just because you didn’t check under your bed to make sure no one was there?

how long was haechan waiting? when naeun was still here? when you went out to buy groceries? 

you thought it would be fear you’ll be feeling as you get caught but the emotion isn’t present at all. instead, it’s white hot anger that overrides your system and forces you to act without thinking—and it just fucking saved your life. 

haechan always saw you as a vulnerable, sad little human being who couldn’t do shit on her own. it’s easy to underestimate you and that’s his first mistake. 

the second is rather foolish—not tying your legs up first. it’s all too easy to slam your forehead against his before jerking your leg up to knee him in the balls. 

you can see the anger in his eyes clear as day as you made a run for it to the kitchen, having come up with another escape plan—because surely if you went down the emergency exit, haechan would’ve caught up easily with those long legs after he’s recovered from your assault. 

your nose was probably bleeding and your head is in the early stages of a full blown migraine, at least you were able to function enough to wobble your way towards the trash chute situated near the stove. you had cursed that chute the first day you moved in here (who would put a trash chute next to a fucking stove) but the day has come for you to thank the gods that you have that in your house. 

going for a swim in all your neighbors’ trash is disgusting and unplanned (plus, falling down maybe six floors to your doom) but you’ll choose that over lee haechan and huang renjun any day. 

“don’t you dare fucking think about it!”

you flashed him the middle finger to tick him off. a petty retaliation for all the bullshit he and renjun put you through but it felt good nonetheless. 

“catch me if you fuckers can.”

and you were falling down the trash chute.‏‏‎ ‎

okay, yeah—maybe you should’ve thought it through before hurling yourself six floors down only for some half-filled dumpster to catch you but at least you’re still alive, right? alive and free, mind you. but you don’t have time to celebrate. 

it smelled awful and you swear your knees and elbows are bruised but you scramble to climb out and run away as fast as you can. 

it was only haechan inside your apartment. no sign of renjun but he did see you somehow and you have no doubt it was a camera inside that room. you didn’t have much time to ponder for how long they were installed in your room. it’s the least of your worries at the moment.

you’re outside. 

during purge night.

even if you did manage to escape it felt more like a win than a lose, forced out of your own apartment in nothing but shorts and a shirt—heck, you don’t even have shoes on!—it felt like they won. again. 

if you’re not going to die in the hands of some other wacko, you’ll die of hypothermia. how nice. 

you didn’t know where you were running to, the only thing you knew was you need to get the hell out of this neighborhood as fast as you can. you didn’t want to run in alleyways and risk getting stabbed for fun. maybe the sewer system… oh, right. you don’t have your phone on you and it’ll probably be pitch black down there. 

you really, truly, genuinely didn’t want to run so out in the open but it was the best you can impulsively come up with. 

when you feel like you’ve put a reasonable distance between you and the apartment, you stop, hands resting flat on your knees as you crouch to catch a breath. just as quick the adrenaline appeared as fast as it had disappeared. you feel the weight and tension crushing your legs, not to mention you’re really starting to feel that headache settle after headbutting haechan. 

you almost collapse against the brick wall. 

the last person you ever thought you’ll see jumps out from the corner of the alleyway and you almost broke their nose. 

until you saw who it was. 

“NAEUN?”

their apartment got raided, some buffy sickos who they had the misfortune of breaking into their house to purge. luckily they got away, but after getting attacked on the streets, naeun got separated after she ran for her life just like you did. you can’t help but feel sorry for the little girl, who experienced the full effect of this godforsaken holiday. 

this is bad. you can’t leave her but it’s tough enough to have to fend for yourself. you’re not so sure whether you can protect another human being but you’ll have to try. 

“did your mom or grandma tell you anything? anything at all?” you ask, crouching to her eye level. “you said your mom knew the way… where? what do you mean?”

“mom said they’re providing refuge on the other side of town but it’s a 30-minute drive. walking would take longer.”

shit. you didn’t want to risk it. you don’t have a car and you’d rather die right here right now than walk another step out in the streets—

“who’s ‘they’?”

“i don’t… i don’t know. she didn’t say.”

you licked your chapped lips. you can’t trust what she’s saying, not when you didn’t even know these people. it’s too risky, not to mention you’re already running from not one, but two people.

naeun sits next to you against the bricked wall of the alley, looking down at her lap. “i’m scared,” she admits. you hear a tremble in her voice. “are mom and grammy de—”

“no,” you cut her off, pulling her tiny body against yours. when you feel her fists clutching your jacket, you swear to protect this girl with your life. “no, they’re not. i’m sure they’re heading there now to the refuge center just like we are.”

her head pokes out, looking up towards you. “we’re going? i thought you didn’t want to.”

you shake your head, wiping her tears. “well, it’s the one way for you to meet your mom and grammy, right?”‏‏‎ ‎

walking down the streets during purge night—man, this has got to be the most ballsy thing you’ve ever done after that one time you spat at renjun in the eye. you managed to find a litter of bodies way into thirty minutes of walking and you nearly sent naeun flying onto the asphalt with how hard you pushed her back. she couldn’t see this mess, you’d be damned to allow a nine-year-old walk right into psychological trauma. 

you pocket a gun—you didn’t have enough courage to fight with a knife. you wiped the blood off using your shirt before shoving them down onto the garter of your shorts. you didn’t bother to take their shoes, none of them would’ve fit you anyway and it’ll just slow you down. 

“hey, are you alright? is that blood—”

“it’s not mine, naeun. come on, let’s get moving.”

for two hours you walked towards this mysterious refuge center on the other side of town and both you and naeun managed to evade death three times. 

the first attack: a group of high schoolers with their uniforms on. there were three of them, about your height, and while you weren’t responsible for the blood on your shirt, you’re not so sure about their lot. they looked crazy, excited even, but sloppy in the way they flung their knives and bats around. their first purge, you assumed, so it was fairly easy to take them down. a bullet to the head worked like a charm. naeun didn’t say anything when you urged her out of her hiding place to flee the scene. three bullets left. 

the second attack: it was a surprise, one that got you stabbed in the shin of your right leg. it was a drunkard with a knife, you could smell him as you walked past by his slumped form in the sidewalk. he wasn’t moving, so you thought he was dead and it was poor judgement on your part. it’s pathetic getting injured this way, you thought, but at least it was you who faced the consequences and not naeun. two bullets left.

the third attack: two men but deadlier than the girls and the drunk. you didn’t get to reason out with either of them, not when they drove their cadillac at 140 miles per hour and nearly ran you over. a chill crept up your spine when you saw the bloody, naked women strapped down onto the hood. victims. you didn’t engage in any form of combat, it’s impossible, so you took naeun in your arms and ran straight to the back alleys. number of bullets remain the same.

three lucky strikes. 

three times you’ve cheated death. 

but time is up and your luck has run out. 

“beating up a girl? what a coward, if you ask me,” you say, spitting out a tooth after someone kneed you in the face. you were in no position to say such things when they’ve got you busted up and bloody, left eye swollen after one hard punch. 

naeun is nowhere to be seen. 

good. 

who knows what these assholes could’ve done to her. you told her to run so she better fucking run and make sure she lives through this nightmare. 

another kick flies to your ribs and you lie sprawled on the dirty pavement of an alleyway—what an uncool way to die but at least you’ll die with a clear conscience. 

you passed by city hall a few minutes ago. surely, the refuge center is not too far from there. naeun will make it safe. she’ll make it. 

“what’s that look on her face? is she dead?”

another one scoffs. “well… if they’re after her then she’s as good as dead.”

you blacked out. ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎

you hate the scent of disinfectant. it crawls up your nose and you hate how the stench is so strong you can taste it on your tongue. this isn’t heaven, not when you know you’re better off burning in hellfire.

unless you weren’t dead—your eyes shoot open, sitting up in haste as you clutch the thin blanket. 

rows upon rows of the same cot you were lying on greets you. people injured, some standing, some sitting. there were people treating them, too, but they were in normal clothes so this can’t be a hospital. in fact, it looked like you’re in some warehouse, stacks of metal crates sealing off all entrances. 

“it’s the refuge,” you whisper. 

“you’re awake!” before you could even turn around, a body launches itself onto you and nearly makes the cot collapse. judging by the small frame and the pitchy voice—

“naeun, be careful!” her mother hisses but the girl in between your arms couldn’t care less. if she’d been an adult, she’d be squeezing the life out of you. when she pulls you closer, your healing ribs made a strike of pain surge through you. 

you groan, bowing in the pain. distantly, you can hear the mother and daughter fighting and it was a banter you’ve never experienced with your own mom. it nearly made you tear up from the overwhelming wave of emotions you were feeling but all else disappears when a person tenderly grips your shoulder. 

“thank you for taking care of my granddaughter.” the old lady was smiling appreciatively as she stared at you. 

that was it. it could’ve been the happy ending to a gruesome and bloody storyline—it should’ve been, family of three reunites again and that was all thanks to you, right?

but even heroes have their own bad endings. 

you heard the ticking of the grenade only seconds before it detonates. the other refugees didn’t even have the time to take cover as some closest to the sealed doors were sent flying so far back they crashed into the row of crates behind you. 

you were severely injured, limping, ribs broken, and you only had one good eye to rely on—yet the first thing you thought of was protecting naeun. maybe the midget had a way of worming herself into your heart. but before you even push yourself off the cot, a figure emerges from the smoke. 

petite and harmless, pretty as the tips of his hair grazed porcelain cheekbones. renjun’s eyes are as cold and calculating as can be and it’s the only thing that terrifies you to no end. when he opens his mouth, anger is hidden well underneath that calm tone. 

“i’ll give you one minute to come here willingly.”

there’s no room for bargain, he needn’t when he knows you have absolutely nothing to offer him but yourself. he doesn’t finish his sentence but he trusts you’re smart enough to figure out the silent threat—come, or he’ll turn this place into a fucking bloodbath. 

cornered and weak, defenseless. weird how they have a fixation for calling you ‘kitty’ when they’re the cats in this chase. 

“naeun,” you whisper, trying to crane your neck to look for her in the filth of rocks and debris. please don’t be hurt.

you freeze when you feel a barrel pointing at your head. it was only there for seconds, haechan probably doesn’t have the guts to hurt you in any way permanently (unless it’s inflicted with his own hands and not through some other medium). 

“ah, look. now we have matching black eyes,” he giggles like a madman, craning your neck up and the leather in his globes brings discomfort to your skin. 

you see the way the other refugees looked at you—scum, dirt on their feet that brought about trouble in their lives. they were already badly hurt as it is and now, this happened? you don’t blame them. 

not one man tried to stand up for you as haechan hauls you up and throws you down on renjun’s feet. your ribs were screaming and you’re cold and so, so afraid. with shaky fingers, you gestured towards the crowd. “just... please, don’t hurt them. they don’t have anything to do with this.”

renjun coos. such a cruel smirk for a pretty face. “aw, such an angel my darling is. always thinking of others instead of her own safety. funny because i don’t think you’ve ever done such a thing for me and haechan, though. i wonder why...”

the latter digs his heel in your injured legs and you scream as black starts to surround the corners of your vision. you tried to crane your neck back, pleading eyes wanting to look at the assaulter but renjun’s calloused hand is gripping your chin too tight.

“should we make a bargain, kitten?”

you stare deep into renjun’s eyes. he knows you don’t have anything left, he can see it in your glassy eyes, too wide and vulnerable. he’s doing this all for show, trying to make you even more desperate and self-aware of your eventual demise.

and you thought haechan was the only cunning one.

“what… what bargain?"

renjun practically gleams in pride. “i’ll let everyone walk free—even your precious little naeun—that’s her name, right? the little girl you’ve been protecting the whole night?—we’ll let her and everyone in this building walk away unharmed. that’s my bargain. you know how those work, right? now, you need to give me something i want.”

forcing you to offer yourself up to them.

what a brutal way to crush your pride.

choice wasn’t an option. if you don’t oblige and choose to run away on your own, they’ll kill them and still hunt you down. you gotta say, it was a tempting bargain that appealed to the sense of heroics in your heart. naturally, you have to choose where there is less blood shed. and as renjun lets go of your chin and lets you look over your shoulder to meet little naeun’s eyes, how she sobbed against her mother’s arms and shook her head and screamed…

“hurry, kitten. i don’t like to be kept waiting.”

you know what needs to be done.

“me. i’ll give you… me.”‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎

they stood playing a game of pool in the dead of night. it’s peaceful inside the estate while the city beyond rampaged and burned. they achieved their goal, had finally seen an end to a plan that had been set in motion for years. they’ve succeeded and the broken woman lying on the bed meters from the pool table is proof of their victory. 

“don’t you just love it when an elaborate plan works like clockwork, injun?” he asks, voice like trickling honey as he hits number 9 with the cue ball. 

the other, more petite male, rolls his eyes but doesn’t disagree. “oh, please, people like us always triumph, donghyuck. it’s nothing new. although i am surprised that little girl and her so-called “family” played along so well. almost had me fooled.”

“i agree. it's such a shame they had to go.”

‎

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jenoluck (c) all rights reserved

#nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct dream imagines #nct dream scenarios #renhyuck scenarios #renhyuck imagines #haechan imagines #renjun imagines #yandere haechan #yandere renjun #purge au #purge au nct dream #tw bullying #tw violence #tw purge au

[marjansmarwani]

watch it as it goes 

2.3k || ao3

The 126 responds to a call with a familiar address —— Another 2x12 spec fic

Based on the stills released it doesn't look like we're going to get a firefam rescue, so I wrote it. Maybe I'm wrong (in which case I'll be thrilled) but if I'm not, then here’s some extra. You can never have too much firefam, I think.

----------

When the address came over the radio, Paul was the first to make the connection.

“That’s TK and Carlos’ place,” he announced grimly, watching the dawning looks of horror on the rest of the teams faces’ as they also made the connection. 

“Dispatch,” Judd asked curtly into the radio, “any other info you have on this call? Who called it in?” 

“A neighbor,” Grace’s voice replied, “she says she hasn’t seen any signs of the residents.” 

Judd let out a curse and the rest grew even more somber. There was a moment of silence and dark looks amongst the rest of the team before Judd took a deep breath turned from the front seat to look at them all, “Let’s not jump to any conclusions,” he reminded them, voice full of forced optimism. “We don’t know what the situation is and TK was a damn good firefighter; no matter what the situation, I like their chances. Besides,” he added as he turned back around to the front, “they might not even be home. They didn’t call it in, after all.” 

That notion was quickly assuaged when they pulled up to the scene. First they saw the condo; fully engulfed and burning bright against the night sky. But in the foreground was the damning evidence of both their cars parked in the driveway. They all processed the information silently, turning to their acting captain for instructions. 

“Alright y’all,” Judd said as they pulled on their gear, “we can assume they’re likely upstairs, so Marwani and Strickland head up there, Chavez will do a sweep of the fist floor, just in case.” 

Even as he spoke, bits of the structure were crumbling. 

“We gotta do this fast,” Judd reminded them needlessly, “the structure is getting less stable by the second. Be smart and keep your comms open. I’ll have a team out here ready with hoses for the moment you get outside. I know these are our friends and this is different, but I need to know that your heads are in the game.” 

When he got a round of nods for confirmation he nodded as well, “Alright: head in, stay sharp, and be safe.” 

There was a chorus of “Yes, Cap” before they parted ways - some heading for the hoses, the assigned trio heading inside. No sooner than they had entered than Marjan and Paul stepped back outside. 

“Stairs are gone Cap,” Marjan reported, “we’re going to need a plan B.” 

“There’s a balcony on the east side,” Paul provided, “it goes into the bedroom. If we can get the ladder there we can go in that way.” 

“Alright let’s do it then,” Judd agreed, already moving to get the ladder set up. A minute later it was up and Marjan and Paul were climbing up it and over the ledge of the balcony. They made quick work of the door and we inside in a matter of seconds, blinking to adjust to the brightness of the flames engulfing the room. They didn’t see them and for several heart-stopping moments, they entertained all the awful possibilities. Then Paul spotted movement amongst the smoke and nudged Marjan, gesturing towards the motion. 

She led the way forward and as they drew closer it became evident that it was two figures, but only one was moving. A few more steps told them that all the motion was coming from TK as he performed CPR on the unmoving form of Carlos, sprawled and unmoving on the floor below him. He was coughing as he went and fresh, painful burns were evident along his exposed skin even from a distance, but it was the desperation in his eyes that struck them most of all. 

Though he saw them he didn’t seem to process the fact that they were there. He continued giving compressions, turning his face - smeared with soot save for the clean streaks left by tears - away from them and back to Carlos. He was giving it all he had but, judging by the shaking of his shoulders and the wracking coughs that were coming more and more frequently, he was fading. But if there was one thing they knew about TK Strand it was that he would do anything and give everything to save someone he loved; Carlos most of all.

Paul shook himself out of his stupor first. It was only a moment but in a situation like this, every single second counted. He stepped forward, placing a gentle hand on TK’s shoulder. 

“TK,” he tried, raising his voice to be heard over the chaos around them, “we need to get you out of here!” 

TK went on as if he hadn’t heard him and Paul looked to Marjan. She gave him a worried look before she stepped closer, putting herself directly in TK’s line of sight. 

“TK,” she said as gently as she could through the mask and the noise, “you need to stop so we can get you both out of here. We need to get you both help. We’re here now - we’ve got this; let us help you help him.” 

Somehow her words seemed to filter through his haze. He froze then, stopping in the act of repeating compressions to look up them. They could see the situation processing now, the fact that they were here finally sinking in. He nodded and shifted back so they could reach Carlos better, “Carlos goes first.” 

Paul wasn’t surprised by the words and he shook his head immediately, “No, we’re getting you both out - together. Can you walk?” 

TK nodded and, with Marjan’s help, pulled himself to his feet. He stood unsteadily, swaying as he watched Paul bend down and take ahold of Carlos, lifting him over his shoulder with some help from Marjan. Then - with a steadying hand from Marjan on TK’s arm - they headed back towards the balcony and the fresh air below. 

Paul made quick work of climbing over the edge and down the ladder, eager to get Carlos help as soon as possible. He could hear the sounds of Marjan leading TK down the ladder behind him and he threw a glance over his shoulder to confirm that they had made it down the ladder as well before he turned to the paramedic team that had responded with them, setting Carlos’s still form down on the gurney provided. 

“He’s not breathing,” he informed them, ripping off his mask so they could hear him better, “he was receiving CPR until we pulled them out but I don’t know how long it’s been.” 

The paramedic captain nodded, stepping in with an oxygen mask that he slipped over Carlos’s face. He began rattling off instructions to his team and Paul watched for a moment as they descended on Carlos with calm proficiency; trying not to dwell on the fact that it was his friend on the gurney before him: unmoving and not breathing. 

His attention was diverted by the sound of footsteps beside him and a noise of pain. He turned to the source to see Marjan leading TK to the back of the ambulance and helping him to sit on it. He was coughing and his entire body was shaking, but what struck Paul the most was the look in his eyes. It was pure fear and desperation, and it was zeroed in on the paramedics surrounding Carlos, blocking him from their view. Marjan squeezed his shoulder and murmured reassurances, but when her gaze met Paul’s he saw the same fear in her eyes that he felt. 

They stood there, watching and hoping until another set of footsteps stopped at Paul’s shoulder. 

“Strickland, Marwani, I need you on the hoses,” Judd informed them, voice firm but tense as if he didn’t want to be giving the order any more than they wanted to hear it. 

Marjan looked like she wanted to protest, looking from Judd to TK, but Judd shook his head. 

“I’ll stay with him,” he promised, voice softer than usual, “Go on.”

Paul met Marjan’s eyes again and she nodded, giving TK’s shoulder one last squeeze before she stepped away. Paul stole one more glance at Carlos, trying not to dwell on the fact that they were prepping him to be intubated, that he was still not breathing on his own before he swallowed and nodded, turning back towards the flaming home and away from the pain of his friends. 

As Paul and Marjan rushed over, jogging to help with some of the hoses Judd stepped closer to TK. The paramedic was still coughing, but he shook off any attempt from either of the on-duty paramedics to help him. Judd held out a hand to Choi, one of the B shift paramedics, and she placed the O2 she had been trying to get TK to take in it. He stepped forward and slipped the mask over his friend’s face without a word, simply raising an unimpressed eyebrow when TK turned to argue with him. 

Whether it was something in his gaze or simply his presence, TK deflated; allowing Judd to finish securing the mask over his face. Once he knew that the other man was finally getting some clean oxygen into his body he took a moment to give him a once over. There were burns scattered across his body and judging by the coughing a fair amount of smoke inhalation, but all in all, he could be worse off. 

Yet to look at him, you would never know. The pain in his expression was palpable and Judd understood. The physical pains were nothing; bearable and easy to ignore. It was the fear and uncertainty of watching the person you loved in pain that never failed to hurt the worse and it was written all over TK’s face. 

He stood beside his friend, keeping an eye on the fire and crew before them but never fully pulling his gaze from the younger man. The moment they inserted an airway into Carlos’s mouth he saw what little composure he had left crumble. He stepped closer, wrapping an arm around him and holding him tight, hoping to even offer a fraction of the reassurance he knew he needed.

“Don’t count him out yet kid,” he murmured as he clutched TK’s shaking body, “he’s made of strong stuff. And you know better than me that he’ll do whatever he can to stay with you.” 

He felt TK nod against his chest and the telltale wetness of tears. He stayed there, holding TK and murmuring reassurances until the paramedic team indicated that Carlos was stable enough to transport. It was only then that he stepped away, but not before he gave TK one last reminder. 

“I know you’re worried about him,” he murmured, “but you have to take care of yourself too. Let them help you and you’ll be able to be with him before you know it. Okay?” 

When TK nodded, a small and feeble thing, Judd mirrored it and stepped away as the ambulance prepared to roll out. 

“You’re not alone kid,” he promised, “don’t forget that. No matter what you are going to have people on your side.” 

TK met his eyes as one of the paramedic team led him into the back of the ambulance. He nodded and though he didn’t say anything, Judd smiled. 

He held the smile until the ambulance doors closed and he watched it as it pulled away. Only then did he let it fall and did he allow himself a moment to process everything that had just happened. He had been doing this job for over a decade. It had been nearly half his life and he had seen some truly awful things. But regardless of whatever catastrophes or tragedies he saw, nothing ever compared to having to watch the people he cared about in danger. 

He turned to look at the home before them once more. It was almost smoldering now; the flames nearly extinguished by the combined efforts of his team and water. He swallowed down the bike that threatened at the thought of how bad it could have been, how terribly it might all still end. He felt a wave of sympathy wash over him at the thought of his friends who had lost their home; and the fear at the thought of what they could still lose. 

But he was the captain now so he pushed it down. There would be time to dwell later, once the fire was out and the job was done. Until then, his job was to look out for his team and he intended to do just that. 

----------

It was almost another half hour before they finally won the battle and the once familiar home had been reduced to smoldering ashes. Now they stood amongst the destruction, taking it all in. 

“I can’t believe it’s gone,” Marjan said, voice hushed in terrible awe of this reality.

“But they’re not,” Judd reminded them firmly, “and that’s what matters.” 

“As far as we know,” Paul added grimly. “Carlos didn’t look too good and TK took in a lot of smoke. You know as well as the rest of us smoke inhalation can be tricky, at best. There’s no guarantee that they’re going to be okay.” 

“There’s also no point in thinking the worst,” Judd reminded them, glancing over at where Mateo was toeing at some of the rubble in what might have been the living room. “They don’t need that.” 

There was silence, after that. They all took a few moments to look around, to process the horror they had just seen. For all the times they had watched the flames eat away at lives, never before had it been ones so closely tied to their own. 

“Let’s get wrapped up,” Judd finally said, “and get back to the station. I’ll see what I can do about getting an update on their conditions but in the meantime, we still have a few hours left in our shift. We can head over to the hospital after that.”

“I’ll call Nancy,” Marjan offered, already digging into the pocket beneath her turnout gear. “She’s home tonight, and she’ll want to know. She’ll head over and keep us updated until we can be there.” 

Judd nodded his approval and gestured for the others to get moving, “Come on y’all, let’s get this done.” 

#911 lone star #911 lone star fic #911ls #911ls speculation #my writing #userkimmy #userjilly #userac #usermaximus #userbones #tuserjamie #tuserpaige #reyesstrand #reyeslonestartag #maizsnex #hierophvnts #buckybarnesalways #immortalstrand #laelipoo

[hotdogct]

as dreamers do ||| n.jm

pairing: na jaemin x reader genre: fluff words: 2.2k a/n: hello!!! this is my first piece of writing in a very long time, so apologies if its all over the place/makes no sense!!! obviously this is all a work of fiction, disclaimer, blablabla, idk what i’m doing i just wanted to write drabbles about nct lmao, so with that being said!!!! ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Do you trust me?”

You roll your eyes in the direction of your coworker, Jaemin, who was sitting across from you in the fluorescent lit break room located just behind Splash Mountain’s gift shop and exit. The two of you were part of the massive workforce of college aged youth that Disney recruited every year to staff their theme parks and resorts. While you weren’t initially thrilled with your role as a custodian, you learned to appreciate its quirks - and that included the unique cast of characters otherwise known as your coworkers. From the full-timers that did their best to ignore your presence, knowing another semester would just bring a fresh wave of new faces, to your fellow program cohorts - Jaemin being one of them.

Assuming he was just quoting Aladdin at you, you offer no response to Jaemin’s initial query and continue scrolling through your phone, shoveling the few remaining cheese crackers from the nearby vending machine down your throat, intending on savoring the remaining minutes of your last break for the evening.

Your thoughts wandered back to your fellow cast members. There was Daehwi, sheltered and away from home for the first time, affectionately nicknamed ‘baby’ by everyone he befriended. Wendy, with her melodic voice and cheerful disposition, eager to break into song at a moments notice. Lucas, who might’ve come to Florida to party first, but worked equally hard. Hani, who arrived a few weeks after you, always the first to come help when you radio that your restroom has overflowed, again. Even Jinho, who had initially fooled you with his youthful looks before revealing this was his third time through the program, had somehow wormed his way into your heart. But nobody had been as captivating as Jaemin. When you first met him in passing in the cramped break room, you were convinced casting had made a mistake, that he was lost on his way to costuming for entertainment. He certainly looked like a prince - perfectly straight teeth, boyishly handsome good looks. A few days later he was assigned to clean the same bathrooms as you - “bathroom buddies” as everyone affectionately would call the practice. There, in the shared stockrooms, you learned who Jaemin was beyond his beautiful face - how his friends back home called him Nana, that he was studying photography in college, that he was an only child, a helluva flirt. Even your music tastes were similar, a fact you discovered on one of the many cramped, late night bus rides back to program housing where the two of you stood packed shoulder to shoulder, like sardines in a can. Jaemin interacted with guests both young and young at heart with an effortless charm and grace. Your managers loved him immediately, and before you knew it, you found yourself incredibly enamored with him too.

It wasn’t until his hand suddenly broke through your field of vision, blocking sight of your phone, that you realized Jaemin had stood up and was now standing directly in front of you. His head covered the harshest of the overhead lights, casting a soft halo glow around his black, messy hair and broad shoulders. He smiles down at you, innocently, and you feel your heartbeat accelerate when your eyes meet his own.

“Do you trust me?” he asks, again. This time, without thought, you place your hand firmly in his.

******

Jaemin leads you out of the blinding light of the break room silently, into the dark of the early winter evening. Eyes still adjusting, you follow behind him, thankful that your corner of the park was mostly deserted - Splash Mountain still closed for the season, only a few stragglers were coming and going to use the restroom in the area. You vaguely remember that Jaemin had been assigned a nearby zone to clean that evening - which was it again…?

He leads you up a flight up stairs, then, and that’s when it hits you. Train Zone. The Frontierland Railroad Station. It was an easy zone to clean, as the railroad shut down early each night before the fireworks display. Gathering the trash in an empty zone like this was a godsend, especially when compared to the other ride queues you had to clean, oftentimes fighting constant guest traffic like a fish swimming upstream.

Lost in your thoughts, you follow behind Jaemin as he completes his task diligently, making sure each trash can within the train station is empty and re-bagged for the next morning. It had been a few days since the two of you had worked in neighboring areas, and you often found yourself tongue tied when around him. The background music loop of Frontierland was noticeably absent, the speakers within the station shut off for the night. This led to Jaemin singing nonsense songs while tying up trash bags and wiping down surfaces, dancing lightly on his feet.

Turkey leg-g-g

At the train

D-d-d-driving me insane~

All you could do was laugh at his antics, and before you knew it, the nearby banana boat parked at the exit ramp was full of trash bags. Satisfied with the results of your hard work, you were about to begin the walk to backstage, where the dumpsters were located, when Jaemin turned about face, walking instead towards the train station.

“What are you doing?!” you hiss, not wanting to shout but needing to stress your confusion at his actions. Jaemin stops at the gate, unlatches it, before turning around, beckoning you over with a smile.

“I asked you if you trusted me, didn’t I?” his voice low in your ear upon your arrival at his side, banana boat now parked safely out of any guest traffic. Jaemin unlocks the gate for you, both of you falling silent on your walk back up into the depths of the train station - no more cute, silly songs spilling from his lips.

“Are you sure we aren’t going to get caught?” your voice carries louder than intended across the empty room as you go through the turnstile, and you wince.

Jaemin’s boisterous laugh took you by surprise, followed a moment later by his hand ruffling the top of your head, messing up your hair. As if to say, foolish.

“Getting the trash from up here is technically our responsibility. So what if it took us a little long?”

He was right - the best part of your job was the agency it provided. Sure, you were cleaning up garbage and bathrooms and vomit, but you could walk around freely. Explore hidden corners and crevices of the park. You knew all too well the allures of the shared hallway between the Frontierland restrooms, the stock closet next to the Veranda breezeway, the dumpster behind the Haunted Mansion - places the rest of your desperately horny coworkers had used to hook up in weeks prior. As you follow Jaemin around a corner towards the front of the station, through an open passageway, you wonder if that’s what he has in mind. That is, until you see the view in front of you.

Jaemin had led you to a small balcony that overlooked the whole expanse of Frontierland. From above you could spot guests walking about the park to and fro, the Rivers of America flowing gently behind them in the distance. Bits and pieces of Cinderella’s Castle were visible through the tree line, shining bright in multicolor as the nightly projection show proceeded to play.

“Jaem, it’s….”

“Nice, isn’t it?” He finishes your thought for you, his hand brushing over the staged decorations of fake barrels and crates against the wall of the balcony that seemed perfect to sit upon. Moments later, Jaemin plops down with a satisfied smile on his face and pats the space beside him, silently asking you to join him.

“Nice is an understatement” you offer in reply. A small laugh leaves his lips, a breeze rolls through. For just a moment, it is quiet and still.

“I’ve been wanting to show you this place for a while, but the stars just never aligned right until tonight.”

“You mean, the computer system that automates scheduling and staffing didn’t randomly place us in neighboring areas of the park until to-” Jaemin’s stiff elbow into your side lets you know to drop the wit. That you could do, but a question lingered in your mind, still, and you did have to voice your sole concern.

“How do you not get caught up here?”

Jaemin turns around, points to the solitary light on the balcony, and it’s then that you notice the bulb is off. You might feel exposed looking down upon everyone, but quickly realize that nobody is looking up at the closed train station - let alone looking for two cast members in white uniforms in the dark, goofing off on a weeknight.

Fooling around…

You were thankful for the cover of darkness in that moment, as you felt your cheeks turn crimson at the thought. Being alone, with Jaemin, this close, in the dark...This all seemed very sudden, despite everyone knowing about your big crush on Nana - he had to know too?

“So,” Jaemin’s voice cuts through your ever-racing thoughts, and your chest goes cold. “A little birdie told me there’s something you really, really like…”

If jumping off the balcony was a safe option, in that moment, you would’ve taken it. A confirmation of your worst fears - that Jaemin was aware of your ridiculous, schoolgirl like crush on him. You are speechless, sunken, pulse racing, and terrified.

Without the usual cue of area music, caught up in the last hour, you had missed your usual clues. A loud boom caused you to jump in your seat, out of your brain, head immediately turning towards Jaemin - only to make eye contact with him, bright lights reflecting off the surface, who smiles and motions for you to turn around. Of course.

If you were known for one thing amongst your cohorts, it was that you loved fireworks. Even on the most hectic of nights you found a way to make sure you were outside during the nightly display, never taking for granted that you were being paid to watch the sky light up in time to music. You had your favorite spots to watch from, but had never once considered the train station. From the corner of Frontierland, it felt like the fireworks were almost on top of you - cascading down upon Big Thunder Mountain Railroad, the expanse of empty night sky providing the perfect canvas. As the speakers above you were silent, there was no accompanying soundtrack, but it didn’t matter - you knew the whole show by heart. You were unaware of how long your mouth had been hanging open in blissful, childlike wonder, only noticing when Jaemin gently pressed his finger up against your chin, closing the space between your upper and lower lip through simple momentum. Moments later, his hand brushed over yours, testing the waters, and finding no complaint, interlocked his fingers with yours, and gravity pulls your head to his shoulder. A soft, steady hum leaves his lips, as you settle into this newfound bliss.

The rest of the fireworks show plays out in front of the two of you - two white ghosts in a dark shadow, illuminated by glowing streaks and bursts of color from the night sky. You’re working at the most magical place on earth, sure, but this felt like the most magical moment of your life.

Before you know it, the sky calms again, signaling the end of the show. You remain frozen for a moment, not wanting to leave. When you finally stand back up, awkwardly untangling yourself from Jaemin’s frame in a rushed manner, you can almost feel yourself floating back down to the ground, back to reality. Jaemin, your co-worker, Jaemin the flirt. He brought you up here just to watch the fireworks after all. Had you been a bit more outgoing, a bit less awkward, maybe...

Taking a few steps towards the entryway, a sudden hand on your wrist pulls you against the wall - thankfully, out of sight of any guests, but now engulfing your entire body in shadow. And it’s here in the darkness that Jaemin’s hand releases itself from your wrist, finds its way up to your cheek. Here, he leans in and kisses you - pressing his chapped lips against yours gently, but with enough intent and purpose that you swear you were seeing stars after a few moments. It doesn’t last long, as all fairytales would tell you. When you part, Jaemin rests his forehead against yours, both slightly damp from the Florida humidity, and you can feel him smile against you, somehow breathless, letting out a low chuckle, before asking,

“Did you think I was talking about the fireworks?”

#na jaemin #nct fanfic #nct dream fanfic #nct dream #nct fluff #jaemin #nct scenarios #na jaemin fluff #na jaemin fic #jaemin fic #jaemin fluff #nct x reader #jaemin x reader #nct dream fluff

[1littleshippergirl1]

Something Odd

There was something odd about her neighbors.

Gladys Barlowe prided herself on knowing just about everything that went on within the bounds of the neighborhood. Why, Mrs. Keperna, who lived just down the road, was getting up there in age and yet none of her children made much of an effort to visit. But those girls had been a bad sort; they'd gotten into much trouble in their youth. She'd told Ingrid it was a bad idea to let them go out to that dancing club. It was bound to corrupt them and it did, rest assured.

Oh, and the Irmagards next door were having marriage troubles. Yes, indeed, it was quite a shocking revolution. She'd overheard shouting going on between them and glass shattering. Why, she had jumped a mile in the air when that happened! It was a toss up whether or not they would stay together or file for divorce. Privately, she'd said to the other ladies of the neighborhood came for a visit to sip on tea and enjoy some freshly baked biscuits, if it were her and her husband, they would never have been so inconsiderate to everyone else and aired their dirty laundry for all to hear. Had they no decency?

Her husband, Mervin, was less enthusiastic whenever she relayed anything she'd found out to him. Yes, Dear, he'd say. Or, mhm. Or, that's nice. She'd huff in frustration whenever that happened. So caught up in the sports section newspaper or television, he was! He had the nerve of wagging his finger at her once, insinuating her to be a gossip fiend. She was hardly such; they'd lived in the neighborhood ever since they'd gotten married, watched as people passed on, moved on and new faces appeared. They were one of the longest remaining home owners there. She had a right to know who was living nearby. Besides, what was the harm?

But, back to her neighbors.

She couldn't put her finger on it on what made them stand out to her. They didn't look that different than any of the other families that were around. It started out as a feeling, one she couldn't shove to the side and forget about, no matter how many times Marvin told her she was being paranoid. She wasn't. This was real, that feeling. She just knew it. She only had to prove it.

So, she did the reasonable thing and began to subtly watch them.

It was the house that was directly across the street from her, the one with the rather unflattering paint job and the red-headed man with his two daughters. They'd been there for about thirteen years now, back when it was originally just the man, his wife and only one of their children. She wondered whatever happened to that wife of his-Andria? Alana? Audrey, perhaps. Oh, yes, that must have been it. Gladys distinctly remembered a woman with blonde hair living in the house at one point and then she just disappeared! Their marriage must have soured. Poor thing. They were quite young, by the looks of it

(Marvin had told her it was none of her business when she'd planned on bringing over a casserole, with the intention of asking about it).

That woman, Audrey, was a little more cold then her husband was and the way she dressed was just plain awful. Those colors and her complexion-just what had she been thinking? Well, Gladys wasn't completely up to date on fashion these days either but still. Even she knew there were just certain things you kept in the back of your closet after turning thirty. She wasn't judging, of course.

Her husband, on the other hand, was much more friendly. Always smiling and waving to her when they happened to be outside at the same time. That wasn't an issue. She and the ladies from her book club agreed he was such a nice man. There were just occasions where she saw strange things; like that one time when she witnessed him throwing a cape over his shoulders when it snowed and a pointy hat, like a witch would wear.

It threw her for a bit of a loop, it did, at first. He might have been into that fad all the teenagers and young adults were into, where they dressed up as fictional people and used the convention center for all of them to get together. What a strange thing to do with one's time. Did he go to those events held at the local convention center, too? Oh, they were outrageously expensive, according to the flyers she'd seen posted on a bulletin board at the grocer's. Not to mention, he was raising two growing girls, who had needs that should've come before a silly hobby.

And speaking of his girls..

They were quite pretty. One of them, the oldest she reckoned, had taken right after her father. She was his spitting image, right down to the dreary clothes and atrocious looking glasses. The other was more so of her mother, appearance wise. She, too, wore glasses that were slightly big on her face and dressed without any fashion sense.

Like she said, they were pretty, but they could've looked magnificent if she just had a few minutes with them.

Those two weren't around very often, peculiarly enough. She saw them in the summertime and on occasion, if she looked out her window and if the curtains were open, they were home for Christmas but not any other time. That began shortly after they'd turned eleven. It started out as the oldest leaving and the younger one was still there but then it was both of them!

Just where did they go? Well, they weren't attending the local secondary school, that was for sure She'd casually asked Mrs. Thorp, who had a son going there, if she'd seen them around but they weren't there. That was odd. Unless they didn't go there because they were going to some exclusive school for gifted children. That must be it, wasn't it? What other explanation could there be? Truthfully, she never would've guessed those two would be prodigies. They never struck out to her like that. Weren't prodigies supposed to be all quiet and depressed? Those girls were rather lively from what she'd seen of them. Of course, they might just be an exception.

A thought crossed her mind and she wondered what the red-headed man did for a living. She hardly ever saw him leave the house. He didn't even have a car, for crying out loud! How did he get anywhere? Did he wake up in the early hours of the morning to walk back and forth to work? He couldn't have been poor; these houses cost a pretty penny. The few times she did see him, he wore casual, comfy clothes that gave no clue to his occupation, whatever that may be.

What if he was in some sort of governmental work that was highly confidential? Or perhaps he and his daughters were in the witness protection program! That made a great amount of sense. Why hadn't she considered that before? It might provide an explanation as to where that Audrey woman had gone. Oh, what if she'd been killed? Had she and the red-headed man gotten caught up in gang activity prior to the birth of their daughters and one of those members had found her and finished her off? Oh, the man must have been devastated! And now he was left to raise his girls on his own. What a terrible thing.

Didn't he have any family help? She was sure he did. She'd seen some red-headed folks in his living room once-she'd been outside watering her garden when a man standing in front of the window caught her attention. He was younger than the man who lived there by a few years and oh it was just awful, he was missing an ear! Her hand had flown up to her mouth, the hose dropping to the ground. What on earth had happened to him? A work related accident? An animal attack?

There were a couple non red-heads that came over to the house as well. A man with unkempt black hair had come around. He had the strangest looking scar, she'd noticed with curiosity as he stepped out of an old, beat up car. And then there were two separate women as well on occasion. One with hair that reminded Gladys of a rat's nest while the rest of her seemed well put together. The other had such nice hair. A cross between silver and blonde. It must have been from a box. It certainly didn't look natural. She'd assumed one of those women had to have been involved with the man. Why else would they have come to him? She dearly hoped he wasn't seeing them both at the same time. He wasn't that kind of man, was he? And to do that with children around. Very disgraceful if he was.

Gladys sat at the kitchen table of her home, sipping delicately on a cup of tea with slightly pursed lips. In all her years of knowing of the man, she had not yet once had a proper conversation with him. She didn't even know his name. And her curiosity was getting the better of her; she had several questions needing to be answered that couldn't be done by a simple, quick chat. No, she would need a reasonable reason to go over there.

She supposed she could bring over a late housewarming present. A batch of cookies, perhaps. Yes, that sounded splendid. The children would enjoy them and she could get the man to talk. Surely he wouldn't be so rude as to merely take the cookies and push her out of the house?

"How do you think this looks?" She asked her husband, presenting him with the china that contained the cookies. She'd put a red bow on top for decoration.

Mervin was doing a crossword puzzle. His eyes barely even lifted up. "It looks nice, dear."

"Oh," she scowled, "you didn't even see it!"

He did look up this time, unimpressed. "It looks the same as any other time-what's with the bow? Did you take it out of the Christmas container?"

"So what if I did?" She straightened herself up. "I want it to look nice."

"For who, exactly?"

"Our neighbors," she said. "The ones across the street. You know, the red-headed man and his daughters."

"Gladys," Mervin said warningly. "You leave those people alone."

She shot him a look, miffed. "I'm bringing them cookies."

"You're being nosy is what you're doing," he pointed a finger at her accusingly. "I know what you're up to."

She made a noise from her throat. "I'm not up to anything!"

"Oh, yes you are," he got up out of his chair. "You're going to go over there and use the cookies to get information. I'm telling you, Gladys, leave the man alone."

"You're not the least bit curious about him?" She said, taking a quick glance in the direction of the window. "I've never seen him speak to anyone in all the years he's lived over there."

"No," he said flatly. "If he wanted to speak to us, he would have by now. He doesn't need you going over there to bother him. You remember what happened with the Kremps, don't you? You remember being tossed out of the house and Mrs. Kremp threatening to hit you with that pan of hers?"

Gladys adjusted her dress primly. She vaguely recalled it. But it hadn't been her fault. The woman had simply overreacted to an innocent question. How was she supposed to have known that the ugly vase on the mantel contained the ashes of her father?

Mervin folded his arms across his chest, sighing heavily. "Don't go causing any more trouble."

"I'm doing no such thing," she was offended he thought so little of her. "I'm just going to ask a few questions."

"Gladys-"

"Don't you ever wonder what happened to that wife of his?" She cut him off.

"No. But they likely got divorced, if anything."

"Not divorced. Murdered," she revealed.

His eyes widened in surprise. It was about time he finally reacted, She thought with satisfaction "She was murdered?" he said in disbelief.

"Well," she shifted and his expression turned into a glare, "I can't say for sure that's what happened, but I have reason to believe the man and his daughters are in the witness protection program."

He inhaled, shutting his eyes as if praying that he was given more strength. "What?"

"Now just listen," she advised. "No one really knows much about them, do they? They don't talk to people and we don't even know his name. His wife was around and suddenly she disappeared! Now, I think they must have been involved in some illegal gang activity and one of those gang members must have come back to finish her off!"

"Do you know how mad you sound right now?" Mervin snapped.

"I'm not mad, I'm serious."

"And that's what scares me," Mervin muttered. Louder, he said, "I don't want you going over there, do you hear me? You're not going to say a word of that nonsense to him!"

"It's not nonsense-"

"Oh, you're right. It's worse," he scowled. "When is this all going to stop, hmm? When am I going to get peace?"

She harrumphed. "You're not even listening to me!"

"I'm the one not listening? You're the one not listening to me! I'm trying to save you from getting your lights knocked out. I'm warning you, Gladys. Don't do it." He gave her one last look. "Now I'm going back to my puzzle and I'm keeping an eye on that door!"

"Yes, dear," she said pleasantly. She stayed put like he asked, until he went to the bathroom that is. Then she quickly grabbed the cookies and bounded out the door and across the road. When she came to a stop on his front porch, she smoothed down her hair and dress.

Hmm, she noticed his door was ajar. Did he know? Perhaps not. Well, there was no harm in going in a bit. "Hello?" She said cheerfully. "Is anyone home?"

No one responded but someone was there. She heard noises coming from inside. There were people talking. Three in fact. The man and his daughters, she realized she had never heard their voices before.

"Can I show you, please?"

"I said no, Molly. You know the rules."

"It'll be quick! And no one'll know. I won't tell anyone."

Tell anyone what? She frowned.

"And what if someone sees?"

"I told you he'd say no."

"Oh, shut up!"

"Girls, stop arguing."

"Please, Dad? Please!"

"I already told you no. Especially with the windows open. What if someone saw you? I'm in no mood to deal with it today. The department has enough reports already."

What department? What reports? What did he not want to deal with? She stuck her ear in as far as she could.

"Don't worry, if someone sees, we'll just call Uncle Harry. He can take care of them."

She gulped. Take care of them? Surely she didn't...she didn't mean that kind of take care of. She couldn't have. No. That was preposterous.

Oh, my. What if...what if the man was still involved in the gang? What if they were doing illegal activity in the house? Were the girls involved too? Was that what she wanted to show him and he was afraid of getting caught?

There was a pause.

"Quickly. And don't think you'll be doing this all the time."

She decided on going in. She had to see what was going on. For the good of the neighborhood, of course. She had to know. Inhaling, she braced herself and burst into the home and came to a halt in front of the kitchen.

Just as a textbook magically turned into a chicken. And the girl! She...she was holding a stick-

The man and his daughters froze. Gladys stammered, pointing a shaky finger at them.

"You...that..."

She fell flat on her back in a faint.

/

Molly stood over her body, peering down at it through her glasses. "Is she dead?"

Percy rubbed at his face tiredly. "No, honey. She's just fainted."

"That's good," Lucy said from where she sat on the countertop. "What was she doing here anyway?"

"I have no idea," he shook his head.

Molly was still peering down at her. "Dad, can I take a picture? I've never seen a muggle faint before."

"No, Molly."

Percy sighed and began to write a letter to the Accidental Muggle Reverse Squad.

#Harry Potter #percy weasley #lucy weasley #Molly Weasley #hp next gen #harry potter fanfiction #percy weasley fanfiction

[half-bakedboy]

jumping to (the wrong) conclusion (read on ao3)

Pairing: Evan “Buck” Buckley/Eddie Diaz Rated: General Summary: “Buck, Eddie was trying to tell you he’s in love with you,” Taylor said, her voice more serious than he thought she’d be capable of with so much alcohol in her system.

“He— No— Wait, I— What?” Buck’s mind came up with rapid-fire responses because no part of him was truly ready to handle the fact that his best friend might feel the same for Buck as he had for the last two years.

Or Eddie realizes something about his best friend, Buck finds his courage and Taylor gets to witness it all.

A Season 4 Episode 11: First Responders Extended Scene (contains minor spoilers for the ep)

The adrenaline was still pumping through Eddie’s veins even after he had changed out of his sweat-soaked uniform and taken a longer than necessary shower at the station. His blood was thrumming under his skin and he was sure he would vibrate right out of his body if he had the ability. The gunshots still echoed in his ears, Bobby’s quick actions flashing across his mind, and before Eddie realized it, he was pulling up to Buck’s apartment building.

He should have figured that’s where he would end up. Chris was with Hen, Karen, and the kids for the night, and Eddie had planned to drink a few beers by his lonesome while watching the UFC fight he had missed a few days prior. He had set it up to be the perfect night in his head, but he realized that his night couldn’t be nearly perfect because Buck wouldn't be there. Buck was just… inevitable.

Before he could think about what that meant, he got out of the car and locked the door with his keyfob, knowing that Buck would recognize the familiar beep of his car. He was lucky enough as he walked in that one of Buck’s neighbors that Eddie knew to be a night nurse was just leaving for her shift.

“Eddie, stopping by again already?” Becky shouted with a wiggle of her eyebrows. He jogged up the steps and grabbed the door from her, picking up the water bottle she had dropped on the floor to help her out. While Becky was very sweet and often let Eddie in when Buck wasn’t awake yet, he didn’t really feel like sparking up a conversation when his mind was racing as it was.

“Yeah, is Buck around?” He asked, making sure to keep a safe distance between them.

“He is, I think he came back with—“

Before she could finish, Eddie interrupted, “Thanks so much. Have a good shift!”

He was pretty sure he sprinted up the steps, unsure of how his feet were moving so fast. His mind was still racing, over and over with only thoughts of Buck clouding his conscience. Buck, who had been his best friend for years and had saved Eddie - not to mention Christopher - more times than he could count. Buck, who was the only thing Eddie had thought about for the last few months like a stream of what if’s and what could be’s that spiraled around his mind. Buck, Buck…

“Buck?” He called as he pounded his fist against the door. It was overkill, he knew. Buck had never not answered the door for anyone if he was home because he was just too kind to ignore someone who may be in need. Eddie’s smile widened on his lips at even the mere thought of Buck and he ran his hands over his face in both frayed nerves and sheer excitement as he waited for Buck to answer.

When the door opened and Buck’s confused look turned into a wide smile, Eddie pushed himself past the entrance and turned on Buck before either of them spoke. He thought at first that he wouldn’t know what to say, but then his eyes met Buck’s and he couldn’t stop himself from once the words started.

“I almost got shot today. Again,” Eddie added with a laugh, and Buck’s face contorted into that deep concern he seemed to always have for everyone but himself. “I’m fine, we’re all fine, but Buck, I was caught in the crossfire of yet another person with an indescribable amount of evil in their heart and it was like I was back there, in Afghanistan with enemy fire coming at all sides. That adrenaline, that fear, that instinct to survive kicked on in full force.”

“Eddie, are you—“ Buck tried to speak, his arms reached out as if to inspect Eddie for injury, but Eddie stepped closer and grabbed his hands tightly instead.

“And all I could think about was you,” Eddie admitted, shaking his head in disbelief that he had actually said it. “I heard the first shot and I thought, ‘thank god Buck isn’t here so I can focus on the girl I’m here to save’ and at no point did I stop to question why that was. Then I was loading her into the ambulance, about to crawl outta my skin with— with thrill just vibrating through me and somehow I found myself here.”

“Maybe we should—“ Eddie barely noticed Buck suddenly tense and glance over his shoulder.

“I realized that I am always going to find myself here because you’re my person, you know? My partner that I trust in times of severe danger, my best friend that I want to be around when anything exciting happens to me, and Jesus, Buck, I want you—“

“If it isn’t the one man at Station 118 that can’t stand me.” The voice had Eddie’s bubbling blood freezing in his veins and if he had hackles, he was sure they’d be standing at attention. Eddie turned and saw none other than Taylor Kelly - Eddie refrained from calling her the reporter from Hell because he knew Buck hated it - making herself comfortable in the kitchen with a half-empty champagne glass in her grasp and a knowing smirk on her face.

“I didn’t realize you were coming by, Eddie, I—“ Buck began, but Eddie held up his hand. It was then that he noticed Taylor’s discarded shoes next to the kitchen island and the already empty bottle of champagne on the counter.

“No, I’m— I’m sorry for barging in like this. I’ve clearly interrupted…” Eddie trailed off, tearing his eyes away from Taylor to gaze back at Buck, “whatever this is so I’ll just head out.”

“Why don’t you join us, Firefighter Diaz? We’ve got extra champagne to celebrate our successes today and I’m definitely not one to turn away fine looking men on such a beautiful night,” Taylor commented and Eddie noticed the glare Buck shot at her. He also noticed the twinkle in Buck’s eyes and the way his lip tugged up at the corner like he couldn’t help but be amused by her.

“You two have— a night. Together. Without, uh, me,” Eddie said before he rushed out the door.

-------------------------------

The door slamming interrupted the giggles bursting from Taylor’s lips. Buck knew she was tipsy - they both were, in all fairness, - but the way she snorted and then laughed some more told him she was far beyond safe to drive home that night.

“Oh my god, that poor dude, he just— came in here guns a-blazing,” Taylor said and then laughed more, presumably at her own ridiculous joke. She took a deep breath and shook her head, staring up at a wide-eyed Buck. “Well, what the hell are you still doing in here, idiot?”

“What? Where else would I—?” Taylor grabbed the cork from the counter and threw it directly at Buck’s head. It bounced off his temple and hit the floor before Buck reflexes could catch up to him. “Damn, Kelly, you play softball at journalism school or something?”

“Yeah, it’s what gave me such a good gaydar,” she replied. Buck was unsure how that was relevant to the conversation and tilted his head at her, pursing his lips in questions. “Buck, Eddie was trying to tell you he’s in love with you,” Taylor said, her voice more serious than he thought she’d be capable of with so much alcohol in her system.

“He— No— Wait, I— What?” Buck’s mind came up with rapid-fire responses because no part of him was truly ready to handle the fact that his best friend might feel the same for Buck as he had for the last two years.

“You’re not stupid, Buck, and I know I tell you all the time that you are, but you know I don’t mean it,” Taylor said, walking over to Buck and resting a comforting hand on his bicep. “Eddie was just spouting poetry at you, dude. You heard what happened over at dispatch today. If Josh hadn’t been so on his game, there’s a solid chance that Eddie - the entire team - might have—“

“Oh my god, he—“ All of sudden, Eddie’s words caught up with him. All I could think about was you. You’re my person. Forever. The words flashed in Buck’s mind like lightning on a hot summer night and he wasn’t sure he was breathing anymore.

“He loves you,” Taylor reassured, nudging him toward the door. All it took was the familiar beep of Eddie’s car unlocking for Buck to surge into action.

He threw himself down the stairs at least two at a time and pushed the door open with a huff and a shout for Eddie; his partner, his best friend, the person he had been in love with since the very beginning. Eddie stopped but didn’t turn, and Buck could see the white-knuckled grip he had on the door handle even in the limited light.

Buck was never good at saying the right thing. He spoke without thinking more often than not which anyone that had ever had a conversation with Buck would attest to, but he knew that he couldn’t do that then. Whatever he chose to say at that very moment would make or break their relationship even further than it might have already been the moment Eddie laid his eyes on Taylor.

He had it all planned out before. He would ask Eddie out on a real date and when he inevitably thought they were getting dinner as friends, Buck would declare his intentions with a brave voice and hope with everything in him that Eddie felt the same. He straightened his spine, brought his shoulders back, and crossed his arms over his chest, but the voice that followed did nothing to match the strong stance.  

“Athena arrested me today,” Buck noted, cursing himself at the ridiculous start. When Eddie didn’t turn around, Buck took a cautious step forward and rested a hand on his shoulder, grateful for the way his grip eased on the door. “I got into trouble that I shouldn’t have to try to do the right thing and it was probably reckless and stupid, but I did it as I’m sure you knew I would,” Buck laughed and shook his head as he admitted, “and the entire time I wished it was you beside me.”

He ignored the shout from Taylor who apparently didn’t like that comment.

“I didn’t know you were the one getting shot at, but if I did, I— I don’t think Athena could’ve kept me in that interview room,” Buck said, grateful when Eddie turned on him with wide eyes.

“Wait, Thena literally arrested you?” Eddie asked incredulously, but Buck saw the little bit of amusement in his eye anyway.

“I mean, nothing that’ll show up on record, cause you know I would’ve called you to bail me out,” Buck noted. Eddie laughed and looked down at the keys in his hands and Buck took the chance to move one step closer. “I didn’t know you were there, putting yourself in the line of fire, Eddie. The second I heard you say it, I couldn’t hear anything else because I was too worried that even though you were standing right in front of me, there was a chance you could not have been.”

“You didn’t… hear me?” Eddie asked, glancing up at Buck like his worst fear had come true. Buck was pretty sure the adrenaline rush Eddie had was washed away by seeing Taylor in his apartment and if that was Buck, he wouldn’t have the courage to say all that he admitted again. So Buck let himself take the reins.

“Do you wanna get dinner?” He asked, just as he had practiced so many times before.

“Do I want to…”

“God, Diaz, just say yes so that I can go pass out on Buck’s couch with the satisfaction of all the good I’ve done today,” Taylor yelled and Buck glared at her once again.

“Does saying yes to you mean I have to like her?” Eddie asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

Buck huffed out a laugh and said, “She grows on you.”

“Sounds like someone else I know,” Eddie commented as he locked his car doors again and pushed past Buck as easily as he had a few minutes ago.

“Is that a yes, then?” Buck asked as he jogged to catch up, bumping his waist into Eddie’s as they reached the front door.

“Got any more champagne?” Eddie asked, avoiding Buck’s question. Taylor let out a snort as she followed them into Buck’s apartment.

“Oh, I like this one, Buck. He’s gonna be good for you,” Taylor said before throwing herself on the couch and leaving the two men in the kitchen.

“He already is,” Buck muttered, staring over at Eddie who had helped himself to a beer he had no doubt left in Buck’s fridge. “Except he still hasn’t answered my—“

“Yes, Buck. Dinner sounds great.” And it really, really did.

#buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buck x eddie #eddie x buck #buddie fic #coda fic #911 coda #911 on fox #911 spoilers #ish #its not that spoilery i dont think?? #idk asldkjf;as #HOW THE SCENE SHOULD HAVE GONE IMO #my writing #hope you like it!

[fictionadventurer]

So Strong as Gentleness; Or, Powers and Prejudice 2/?

Chapter 2: Immovable Object

For generations, the Bingleys had been the staunchest allies of the city’s superhumans, and the current generation had lived up to the family legacy. It was commonly conjectured that Charles Bingley himself numbered among the city’s masked superheroes--that he was the alter ego of the Storm King or the Nighthawk or the Blur--but it was just as commonly argued that this would unite too many blessings in a single man. Charles Bingley was good-looking and gentleman-like; he had a pleasant countenance and easy, unaffected manners. He united personal fortune with personal charm, and he had no need of superhuman talents to make him one of the city’s most extraordinary citizens.

It was with great astonishment that Jane noted his presence at Bingley Enterprise’s headquarters when she and Lizzie arrived at the recruitment event. The crowd was vast, but Mr. Bingley darted through with astonishing speed, shaking hands with everyone, delighted by the day and pleased by all in attendance. Though the strictures of the event required Jane to spend most of her time filling out forms and conducting interviews with middle management, she received a moment’s attention from the man himself. He approached her just as she was departing from an informational table, offered a handshake, and desired to know her opinion of the event, her occupational and educational history, her opinion of Netherfield, her favorite popular musicians, and if she had noticed the heavily laden refreshment table in the main lobby. Jane provided all the information desired and was surprised to find Charles Bingley genuinely interested in the answers. A few moments of conversation left her convinced that Charles Bingley was all that a young man ought to be--sensible, good-humored, lively. She had never seen such happy manners--so much ease, with such perfect good breeding.   

It was not until she caught sight of Lizzie--reapproaching her after they’d been separated by the crowd--that Jane remembered their mother’s purpose in sending them to the event. But by this point, Mr. Bingley was already being pulled away from the conference.

In the course of the day, Mr. Bingley had gained a shadow--a tall, dark-haired young man who was as aloof and elegant as one expected the heir to a corporation to be. Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy was head of a Pemberley corporation, with fortune and fame for such that eclipsed the Bingley reputation. He rarely left the city of Pemberley, and Jane could not fathom why a Bingley event had drawn him away from his own business concerns.

It seemed that Mr. Darcy had similar questions for Bingley, because after Darcy had pulled him a few steps away, Jane overheard him scolding his friend. “You shouldn’t waste your time with this nonsense.”

“Nonsense? Darcy, you know as well as I do that vetting future hires is a prime security concern.”

“You are socializing when you’re needed elsewhere.”

“Caroline has it well in hand. If my help is needed, I can rush to the rescue, but until then, my time is as well spent here as anywhere. Bingley Enterprises is a powerful force for good in this city.”

“Not as powerful as some.”

“Don’t force me to modesty, Darcy. I know our organization is primitive compared to what you have in Pemberley, but our strategies are effective for Netherfield, and if you could just trust...”

It was at this point that the two men moved too far away from Jane for her to hear any more of their conversation. Turning to her sister, she asked, “What do you make of that, Lizzie?” Her sister had undoubtedly overheard the same conversation--perhaps was hearing it still, as her senses retained some of their animal acuteness even in human form.

“Is it not obvious?” Lizzie said with a laugh. “It appears our company is not exalted enough for the grand Mr. Darcy. In the heights of his villainy, he has deprived you of a charming conversational partner and destroyed your chances of personal happiness.”

Jane sighed. “Mother will be disappointed. I made no mention of--”

“This has nothing to do with our mother. I was speaking of your obvious infatuation with a certain philanthropist.”

Jane had, from a young age, trained herself out of all outward displays of emotion--a necessary habit when any physical outburst had the potential to tear down walls--and she was proud that she did not so much as blush in response to Lizzie’s insinuation. “He is very charming. But I do not think five minutes of conversation is enough for you to pin all my happiness upon him.” She watched the two men disappear further into the crowd. "Perhaps, if my application is accepted, we can renew our acquaintance, but I have have lost my chance today.”

In this, Jane soon found herself mistaken. As the event was ending and Jane and Lizzie were exiting through the revolving doors of Bingley Enterprise’s main lobby, she found their compartment suddenly shared by a third person, who was none other than Charles Bingley himself. 

“Miss Bennet,” he said. “I am glad to have found you. I wished to apologize for my abrupt departure from our earlier conversation.”

Jane found herself stunned by more than the sunlight as they emerged onto the sidewalk outside. “No apology is necessary. I understand you have many other concerns.”

“That is no excuse for uncivility,” Bingley said, “Though Darcy would argue otherwise. He is always telling me to devote my time to more serious matters, but I say it is always worthwhile to be on friendly terms with our neighbors.”

Lizzie said, “It seems Mr. Darcy is uncommonly conceited.”

“No better man in the world!” Bingley said, rising to a good-hearted defense of his friend. “Only too apt to take the weight of the world on his shoulders and demand that I carry the same burden. I dare say he has a point, but one can better do good in the world by knowing the people within it.”

“A sensible philosophy,” Jane said. 

“And apt to make you much more popular with us common citizens,” Lizzie said.

“No one is common,” Bingley said, “especially in Netherfield.”

Jane was struck by the fear that he was about to realize just how true that statement was. For Lizzie’s attention was suddenly riveted to the bank across the street, and her pupils had already turned to cat-like slits.

“What is it, Lizzie?” Jane asked, hoping by conversation to keep her sister tethered to her human form. Lizzie had gained a great amount of control over her transformations, but the jaguar was likely to emerge unbidden in moments of danger. Lizzie had never transformed in so large a crowd before, and Jane did not know, in the case of disaster, if the jaguar could distinguish threats from innocent bystanders.

“Something is happening,” Lizzie said. “At the bank. I think there might be--”

Her words were drowned out by the explosion. The facade of the bank erupted into flame, and debris was headed in their direction. Jane tried to position herself as a shield to Mr. Bingley and Lizzie, but the sudden movement left her off-balance and falling.

Before she could right herself--before she could even see the results of the explosion--Jane suddenly found herself standing in an alleyway two blocks distant from Netherfield Enterprises. Mr. Bingley was at her side, bent over to catch his breath, with the blue half-mask of the Blur half-pulled over his face.

“Mr. Bingley?”

The man turned away, shielding his face with his hand. “You weren’t supposed to see--I’m usually gone by now, but you--you’re heavier than you look.”

Most other girls, perhaps, would have been offended by such comments, but Jane was merely impressed that he had moved her at all. If she hadn’t been falling, he wouldn’t have managed it--she had been told that trying to move her from where she was standing was like running face-first into a steel girder.

“What’s happening?” she asked, helping Mr. Bingley to straighten his skewed mask. The daughters of Mrs. Bennet knew that there was nothing so important to the average hero than the secret of their identity.

“Heist of some kind,” Bingley said. “We thought there might be villain movement today, but didn’t think they’d strike so close to the Enterprises building.”

“We have to go back!” Jane shouted, dashing out of the alley. “Lizzie!” There was no doubt that the jaguar was loose, and Jane was best able to keep her sister in control of her humanity.

“Wait!” he shouted in alarm. “I can go back to help her, but you mustn’t endanger yourself.”

Jane continued another city block, unheeding. She could see the bank now, chaos erupting as crowds fled from the disaster. From the destroyed facade, some variety of spidery, villainous robot had emerged, tossing aside people and vehicles that hindered its attempts at escape.

“Miss Bennet, please!” Bingley was at her side, apparently attempting the same rescue he’d completed moments before, but unable to budge her an inch.

“Help them!” Jane said. “I’ll be fine!”

At that moment, the rampaging robot picked up a green sedan and tossed it over the crowd, directly toward Jane’s position. Jane lifted both arms and caught the car by its front bumper. She held it aloft until she was certain the sidewalk before her was clear of bystanders, then she set it lightly on the ground.

She turned around to see the Blur, Netherfield’s most famous speedster, standing motionless, his jaw slack.

“I see,” he said, gathering his composure. He stepped toward her. “I must apologize. It appears you were not in want of a rescue. But if I may ask, are you in possession of a good mask?”

#adventures in writing #so strong as gentleness #powers and prejudice #pride and prejudice #superheroes #jane/bingley #jane austen #pride and prejudice superhero au #here it is! #for what it's worth #which is admittedly not much but hopefully it's a little fun? #the bingley rescues civilian jane is probably a textbook darling in need of killing #because i had to invent this vague and implausible scenario to get civilian jane in bingley's presence #but it's still a fun scene and i can do what i want with this story #this story is an exercise in writing garbage #i am purposely releasing short segments without anything but the lightest of line editing so i'm forced to keep moving forward #if i hadn't been doing that i probably would have already rewritten that opening segment in different styles at least three more times #it's certainly a choice and i'm having fun with it #but as you can see the austen style is probably going to have to relax as we get more overtly superhero-y scenes

[avengershumanresources]

blood 11 - Strange/Stark!Reader

Relationship: Dr. Strange/Princess!Stark!Reader

Rating: M

Warnings: Adult Themes, smut, adult language, implied sexual violence, general violence

Synopsis: Reader is the daughter of the legendary King Anthony Stark, Uniter of Lands, The Iron Defender, and leader of the realm. When the king disappears during battle, hope is lost and he is presumed dead.

When the late king’s uncle, Obadiah, takes the throne until your brother Peter is of age, he quickly arranges a marriage for you with a wicked king in a neighboring kingdom.

With the realms politics in question, and rumors of an upcoming siege to overthrow Peter’s rule before it starts, you quickly learn who is loyal to the crown and who is not.

part 10 - part 12

Masterlist

Chapter Playlist

11 - a battle cry

“Good as new,” Wanda helped Stephen sit up, her arm wrapped around his torso, his arm sling over her shoulders. 

“I feel like a horse ran over me,” he grumbled, pressing a finger to his temple. 

You’d long fallen asleep, though you’d been too stubborn to leave his side and sleep in a proper bed. Instead, you’d curled up in one of the ornate chairs and passed out, hand draped as close as physically possible to the injured sorcerer. 

“It was an herb from Brock’s kingdom that stopped the blooding from clotting,” Wanda explained, summoning the book she’d read the antidote in. “It’s rare, even for that kingdom, and she wouldn’t have had enough to cover all the arrows.”

“Someone must be bitter,” he commented dryly. “I don’t know why, I’ve been nothing but nice to the old witch.”

“You weren’t exactly subtle in your romancing of the princess,” Wanda reminded him with a knowing smirk. 

“Not a good enough reason to try and kill me,” he decided, standing and giving his arms and torso a stretch. The wound still tickled slightly when he shifted, a side effect of the magic used to seal the cut. “Now, do we have any idea why the princess is a homing signal of magical energy?”

Both of their eyes fell on you. Your seidr had spread, making gentle waves of violet light over your skin as you slept. It was almost overwhelming how powerful it felt to the magic users. Stephen felt almost suffocated and he didn’t miss how Wanda skirted the edge of the room, avoiding direct contact with you. 

“Loki sent a raven to Asgard,” Wanda supplied. “Hopefully Frigga has a suggestion.”

“It won’t matter if Amora keeps her wards up,” he huffed in frustration. “There’s nothing at Kamar-Taj on the subject that I’ve been able to find. The ancient Asgardians were effective in their campaign.”

“I’ve solidified the wards around the keep as best I could, but this is going to break through and Amora will know,” Wanda warned, chewing her bottom lip anxiously. 

Stephen tried reaching for your hand but the seidr snapped back at him like a guard dog ready to fight. He ran a tired hand over his face, shaking his head at the situation. This certainly was not ideal.

(—)

“We maintain our plan of attack,” Peter instructed, pouting around the base of the castle. “We’re going to use the tunnels.”

“The wards are all around the castle,” Loki protested. “There’s no way in.”

“My sister, Gods rest her soul, had snuck past every ward that every Master had put on the castle,” he pulled up the map Sam handed him and drew his finger across the page. “They’re outside the boundary lines and protected by older runes. The wards don’t effect them.”

“The problem is, we can’t bring enough men to thoroughly attack their forces from within,” Sam continued, eyeing Loki. “We have to take down Amora and break down the wards so our men can get through.”

“That’s a suicide mission,” Loki frowned. “She’ll kill anyone on sight.”

“And you trained under your mother as well,” Peter noted. “You know her tricks and capabilities. If anyone is getting close to her, it’s you.”

“Peter, I appreciate your enthusiasm but I’ve tried killing her numerous times in the past,” Loki replied tersely. “We’re evenly matched. If she has any other magic users with her, that’s it.”

“We need something more powerful then,” Thor reasoned pointed, looking to Loki with a knowing stare.

“Short of a miracle, we’re limited in what we have until more Asgardians arrive,” Peter countered. “We need to get inside and take back the castle.”

Loki had fallen silent. 

There was a way. A force of magic more powerful than any known user could imagine.

It was risky to say the least, and he knew at least one person would disagree.

(—)

“Absolutely not,” Stephen snapped throwing his hands up. “Have you lost your mind?”

“She’s going to be found regardless,” Loki directed the statement to Tony. “And intrinsically, her seidr will lower Amora’s defense enough for myself or one of us to get a move in edgewise.”

“It isn’t entirely unreasonable,” Wanda voiced, earning a glare from Stephen. “We send in the guard with her to protect her from a physical threat... certainly she would be able to handle any magical ones.”

“She’s untrained,” Stephen stressed again, looking to Tony for support. “What if, Gods help us, the seidr stops doing whatever it’s doing? We don’t know. It’s too unpredictable and unreliable to make a plan centered around it.”

The trio had tasked you with helping some of the wounded men while they debated Loki’s suggestion after he’d returned from the battle front. The general agreement had been that you would have immediately volunteered and that didn’t bode well for some of the logistic issues that needed to be brought up ahead of you charging headfirst into battle.

“It defeats the point of faking her death,” Tony agreed, looking to Loki for a rebuttal. 

“It doesn’t,” he insisted. “Amora won’t see it coming. Not until it’s too late.”

“That’s rubbish and you know it,” Stephen snapped back. “She could be across the kingdom and anyone with a speck of magic in their system would sense her coming. She’s a storm of uncontrolled energy.”

“Is she?” Loki asked innocuously, quirking a brow. “I certainly don’t feel anything in here... isn’t she only the next room over?”

Stephen froze. 

The Asgardian prince was right. 

He couldn’t feel your seidr anywhere in the room, outside of it, or within the castle walls at all. 

“What did you do?” he asked, dumbfounded. 

Loki held up a small amulet and he heard Tony suck in a breath of surprise. 

“Where did you find that?” the king demanded, standing from his chair and reaching for the necklace. Wrapping his fingers around the amulet himself, he ran his fingers around the edges while he listened. 

“Your late queen entrusted it to my mother,” Loki explained. “It arrived an hour ago with her written incantations to seal the seidr temporarily. It had to be taken by Lady Sif to the Asgardian border, then transported to Kamar-Taj by Mordo, and delivered to me by Wong. A lot of trouble went into getting it and I would hate to see it go to waste…”

Tony clutched the the chain of the amulet in his fist and held it up for Stephen to better see. 

It was definitely old, with weathered metal and jewels embedded in the ridges that had long lost their luster to time. 

“If there’s a chance, it would be in this,” he stated firmly in agreement. “Alexandra used it while she was still training her abilities with Frigga. It saved a lot of trouble while she experimented and on her death bed, when her powers were in a frenzy, this protected the kingdom from harm.”

He turned it over and showed the sorcerer the rune on the back. Stephen was, admittedly, unfamiliar with the symbol. It resembled old Asgardian, but the way the letters curved suggested another origin.

“Vanir,” Tony explained when Stephen flickered his gaze up curiously at the king. “She found it in an old temple on the outskirts of Asgard near the old Vanaheim border.”

“The princess keeps it with her, and we slip in undetected,” Loki continued. “We ambush Amora, and Peter’s troops break the siege and the castle is once again under the proper Stark royal.”

“I don’t see why the princess can’t remain here, with the amulet, undetected and safe while we deal with Amora?” Stephen seethed. 

“Stephen, it’s as best a plan we have,” Wanda urged, watching him with a steady gaze. “You knew the potential outcomes. It isn’t ideal, but this isn’t unexpected.”

“What?” Tony looked to her, furrowing his brow. “What do you mean? Was there more than you told me?”

“Nothing has changed in your destiny,” she quickly assured him. “But your children... their paths have been sporadic.”

“Explain, now,” Tony shot back. “Are they in danger?” 

“Your majesty, it’s best not to dwell on potential futures,” Loki cut in, slipping between the king and the sorceress with an arm. “They’re possibilities, not guarantees. Tampering to avoid certain outcomes is how you end up in a worse scenario than anticipated.”

“I want to know,” Tony snapped, looking to Wanda. “What else did you see?”

She looked up at Stephen uneasily and he finally relented, holding up a hand in her direction and taking over the explanation for her. 

“They were cloudy,” he replied. “The princess was in the throne room during the siege. Prince Peter was nearly overwhelmed by a wave of Northern Kree. They were vague and not necessarily connected.”

He left out the part where you were stabbed. 

Stabbed through the heart, more specifically, but Brock Rumow’s sword. It’d devastated him for days after Wanda had shown him the visions. He’d worked so hard to keep you out of the castle, to move you t safety, and avoid the very outcome. 

But it seemed the fates were not done with your part of the story. 

“You told me this ended with me by the throne,” Tony turned on Wanda. “My children out of harms way. Peter’s coronation.”

“Nothing is certain,” Loki caught him by the arm and spun him back toward him and Stephen. Tony from, fixing up the prince who dared touch royalty so directly. “The visions are murky. They’re not clear and if they were to be solidified by the decision we make, we would know.”

Tony looked to Wanda who nodded slowly in agreement. His boyd language softened.

“Is this truly the only chance we have at taking the castle?” he looked between the trio. 

Stephen saw something in the king’s eyes that begged for one of them to disagree. 

But even Stephen could see the inevitable. 

Amora was too powerful and too evenly matched against any or all of them.

Using your seidr was the only way to overwhelm her and kill her.

He hated it. Gods he hated it so much and had prayed, despite not necessarily being a religious type, that someone would have a better plan. Loki and Wanda were among the strongest after himself, after all. 

The room remained silent at the kings question.

When no one objected, Tony swallowed hard and nodded to himself. 

“Bring her in then,” he murmured. “We must move quickly.”

Stephen offered to retrieve you, quickly filling you in on the idea. 

And to no surprise, you readily agreed and volunteered your help in whatever capacity you could manage. Stephen sighed, weaving his fingers through yours while stopping outside the meeting room.  

No seidr was fighting back at his touch. 

Loki’s amulet was working. 

“I’d hoped you would put up more of a fight,” he confessed, lifting your hand and seeing none of the violet glow that once emitted from your body.  

“You nearly died,” you reminded him tersely. “I have a bone to pick with Amora. Not to mention, there’s nothing more I loved to see than Brock’s body skewered on the top of one of our men’s swords.”

There was a venom to your tone that seemed almost unnatural considering your usual caring personality. Never had Stephen seen you so determined to cause harm to another human, but perhaps he’d underestimated the fury you felt toward the enemy king. 

“Right,” he murmured, giving your hand a squeeze and pulling away. He opened the doors, ushering you inside while the others began detailing the plan. 

(—)

Peter was directing his men when a portal opened up and Loki stepped through with Stephen and a cloaked figure. 

“We need a distraction away from the base of the castle,” Stephen explained briskly, maneuvering his body so Peter couldn’t get a good look at the third figure. 

Assuming it was just Wanda, Peter turned his attention to the battalion nearby.  

“I can have them make a move for the western wall, but it’d be pointless if Amora’s sorcerers have up their barriers,” he explained, running an anxious hand through his hair. “They’ve barred us off.”

“We just need attention diverted long enough to slip through the tunnel system,” Stephen supplied, sending a knowing nod in Peters direction.

Three powerful magic users? Going in undetected? 

They were going to break down the barrier, Peter realized and immediately started rallying more men. 

“Thor! We need a distraction,” he called to the Asgardian prince. Thor reached for the large hammer on the ground next to him and lifted it to the air. 

The sky began to crackle above them, and Thor’s expression filled with an excited glee.

“That, my friend, I think we can manage,” he bellowed, grinning between Loki and Peter, turning to wake the Asgardian soldiers who’d been sleeping in the camp nearby. 

“I’ll start the first wave, give us thirty minutes to start an approach before trying to breach the tunnels,” he instructed, again trying to catch the eye of the cloaked figure. 

He couldn’t be sure, but he almost thought the person’s eyes were glowing violet, not red. 

Chalking it up to a lack of sleep, the group started toward the castle in the darkness at the edge of the forest, and Peter focused on readying his men. 

What Peter didn’t know was what his father had planned for after the shield fell. 

The Wakandans had finally arrived and in greater numbers than King T’Challa had originally promised. 

They’d remained discreet and undetected by Rumlow and Obidiah’s forces, and once the shield was down, they were prepared to storm the castle with the entire combined armies of Tony, Thor, T’Challa, Carol, and Peter. 

The final key was taking down Amora and her circle of magic users. 

Ultimately, once she fell, the others would quickly fall in turn and that was exactly why you were trudging through the forest with Loki and Stephen toward one of your preferred tunnels to the castle. While Peter and his men readied their attacks.

“Natalia and James are still inside posing as servants,” Stephen explained. “They have agreed to lead us to Amora. They sent a message through one of the kitchen maids’ sons.” 

“No one recognized them?” you asked in surprise. 

“We both know how talented they are at blending in,” he hummed with a sly smirk. “In fact, I seem to recall Natalia being the one to show you the tunnels in the first place. They didn’t garner their reputation for nothing.”

You let out a small breath of relief. Of course he was right. If anyone had a penchant for survival and adaptability it was Nat and James. Still, they were your friends and beloved companions, you were going to be worried about their well-being assassins or not. 

At least Peter was still in one piece. And Morgan and Pepper were in good spirits in Asgard, at least according to Loki. Your family was safe, but even so, Stephen had insisted upon accompanying you and Loki into the belly of the castle. 

You’d protested significantly. He was healing. He was a target. It was too dangerous with Amora, and he’d countered backwith similar arguments. 

In the end, your father made the final call, sending you both and joking the two of you would do well to protect one another. 

“Perhaps when this is over, you and your sorcerer can come to Asgard to train,” Loki murmured while Stephen scouted ahead for any stray troops. 

“And here I thought the offered had been rescinded after Stephen showed up and started to tutor me?” you teased, recalling the conversation you’d had with the prince at the ball honoring Stephen’s arrival all those years ago. 

“It was always there, you know that,” he replied, glancing you over. “You forget I was tasked to look after you. My mother would be pleased to see you both. When Strange studied in Asgard briefly, she had nothing but high praise.”

You could tell the compliment bristled your old friend and you set a hand on his shoulder. 

“Everything has changed, hasn’t it?” you asked quietly, watching Stephen’s darkened form maneuver the wilderness ahead. 

“The dawn is going to rise on a new kingdom,” he agreed. “My father will be disappointed in your selection of a groom.”

You felt your cheeks warm at the off handed comment, though you didn’t bother to object. Stephen was the one. Your heart couldn’t even consider another. Not now. Not after all you’d been through together and how he so lovingly knew you mind, body, and soul. 

“And your mother?” you asked lightly. 

“She’ll be thrilled regardless,” he hummed. “You’re the daughter she never had. She adored your mother, you know that, and promised to take care of you. Marriage or not.”

You paused, carefully selecting your next words. 

“What about you?” 

He stilled. You must have taken him by surprise, or maybe no one had ever asked him directly. Loki looked forward at the tree line ahead, taking a few moments longer than expected to give you an answer. 

“I’ll be fine,” he said quietly.

You were about to open your mouth to ask him if he really meant it, when Stephen reappeared in the shrubs in front of you. 

“The areas clear and I can hear Peter and Thor have started their attack. We need to move now,” he waved the two of you over and you sent a final glance to Loki who flashed a small, reassuring, smile before following shortly behind. 

One step at a time, you reminded yourself, your heart giving a small throb of guilt at his reaction. Marriage, betrothal, none of it mattered until your enemies fell. 

(--)

12- a memory 

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#dr. strange #Dr Strange #dr strange/reader #dr. strange/reader #dr. stephen strange #dr. strange x reader #dr strange x reader #dr strange fanfiction #dr stephen strange #dr stephen strange/reader #reader #reader insert #female reader #marvel fairytale au #MCU fanfiction #MCU AU #fantasy marvel au #stark!daughter #stark!reader #Doctor Stephen Strange #stephen strange fanfiction #Stephen Strange

[wesimpforxiao]

Inception: Chapter 4

"Tch!"  Your forearm blocked a particularly heavy strike from Childe.  It was sure to be bruised tomorrow, but the pain was so freeing.  Maybe you should be attacking the Fatui more often if fighting made you feel THIS good.

"Don't tell me you're tired already," Childe smirked.  "I haven't even gotten to see you use your vision yet!"

The lanterns lighting the city below vaguely illuminated the mountainside in which the two of you were fighting.  It was the perfect view of both city and sea.  Childe was interested in seeing the fantastic firework show, but the way things were going right now, he was more interested in testing your limits.

"Enough about that already," you growled and thrust your elbow into his side.  The small 'oomph' that he exhaled made you a little too happy.  He's wanted a fight with you ever since he came back that day, and even more so since you reunited.  Who were you to refuse him now?  Sure, you've refused in the past, but the anger and bitterness that came flooding back while you were at the festival needed  relief.  Ajax needed to know how much he hurt you all those years ago, whether you directly told him or not.  

Childe, oblivious to the reason behind your sudden willingness to fight, was more than delighted to fight you.  You must've been pretty desperate to change the subject of your phobia if you chose fighting as the alternative!  That didn't stop him from feeling a little bad for pushing the subject, but the thrill of battle soon overcame the guilt and a new fascination overwhelmed his senses.

He was right.  You are like him, even if it's just when you're angry.  He can hone that: train you into becoming a warrior to be reckoned with.  Childe held no intentions to convince you to join the Fatui, but instead prevent your potential from being wasted.  He'd give you the opportunity to grow from amateur to expert.  If you managed to surprise him in this moment, only archons would know exactly what he thought of you.

The harbinger steadied himself and threw his forearm out in time to block your swing, then countered with one of his own to your gut.  It wasn't often that he trained in hand-to-hand combat, but that didn't make him any less deadly.  He had to pull his punches to prevent from hurting you--though if we're being honest, he completely forgot to do that after the first couple minutes.  It's not like you minded anyway. Childe was also slightly impressed at your strength; your looks were definitely deceiving and it worked to your advantage.  He had underestimated you.

No wonder his men were complaining about the vigilante so much.

He caught your roundhouse kick aimed for his head and threw you off balance.  The grass didn't soften your landing.  The sole of his boot sat square in the middle of your chest as he towered over you.  "Not bad," he praised with a raising of his lips.  "I can see why you chose antagonizing the Fatui as a hobby."  Something flashed in your eyes, but Childe wasn't sure what it was.

Your fist slammed into the side of his knee, knocking him off of you.  As he fell you grabbed his arm so he'd land on his back.  You were the one on top of him now with your knees pinning his shoulders into the grass.  "Do you even remember?"  

Childe blinked, and the bloodlust and thrill that was in his eyes was gone.  Remember?  What are--  You were struggling with something dark; your hands pulled the grass out from besides his head, eyes wavering with the slightest bit of hope swirling in the depths of pain.  Seeing your expression, Childe parted his lips to speak.  "Reed--?"

"Heh, forget it," you sniffed, swiping the bottom of your nose with your thumb and sitting up straighter as you vacantly analyzed the blood that now painted your finger.

BOOM! C-r-a-c-k-l-e....!

The Mingxiao lantern exploded somewhere behind you.  The lights from the explosives cast a prolonged glow that illuminated Childe beneath you, but you were still staring at your hand.  It was hard not to think about that night with your father.  What could you have done to change the outcome?  What could have helped you reach Ajax when he returned a different child?  Based on your fight just now, he's never stopped looking for something to take his anger out on; a cruel contrast to the friendly toy seller demeanor.  Meanwhile, Childe: What would've happened if you had fallen into the Abyss with him?  

The lights were beautiful from Childe's point of view, but not for the common reason; they were blocked out save for the ones peeking out from behind your shoulders and head.  You were backlit with bright colors--reds, blues, greens, yellows and oranges.  Each cast a soft glow to your silhouette.  The thoughtful look on your face while you refused to look his way was enticing, what with the sweat that slowly rolled down your temple and the forming bruises splattering across your arms.  And the bloody nose he gave you--the blood that slowly trickled its way down to your upper lip--sent a pleasurable chill down his spine.  You were a breathtaking mess of art.

He briefly wondered if you thought the same of him, but you never glanced down even after the lights of the lantern had faded.

...................

A few miles westward, at the base of Mount Tianheng. Ten minutes before the release of the Mingxiao lantern.

"Alright boys," a dark figure emerged from the shadows of the mountain and scanned the crowd of twenty-plus men all dressed in black robes.  The gruff voice that erupted from the man was enough to silence the hushed whispers between comrades in arms.  "Our scouts confirm the whereabouts of the target in the Northland Bank.  Security is minimal as expected.  Our primary objective is to retrieve those documents.  Understood?"

Silent nods all around.  Not one uttered a word, their obedience absolute.  This was the man that compensated them fairly compared to Her Majesty the Tsaritsa.  Injustices laid out against them by their superiors in the Liyue division of the Fatui will be paid in due time. Now that there were enough committed to the cause, the master's plan will be put into action.

"The Fatui will fall," he bellowed.

"The Fatui will fall! The Fatui will fall! The Fatui will fall!"  The servicemen dispersed as quickly as they heeded his words, shouts of determination fading into murmurs then silence.

"Charlie," the leader gestured towards his right-hand man.  "A word."

"Yes, sir?"  The brunette's wolf-like ears perked up at the voice of his master.  It wasn't unusual that he was given a separate mission during times like this, so he prepared himself with a jaw clenched in anticipation.

"Though I doubt any of them would be caught in this operation by either party, I am not risking you for...obvious reasons.  I have a separate matter to discuss with you."  Eyes like a snake's watched Charlie with both thoughtfulness and pride.  Charlie was by far the most trustworthy, being one of the few recruits that were in this group the longest.  He's succeeded all expectations, to say the least.  "You've mentioned before about a rogue citizen attacking the Liyue Fatui?"

"Yes, sir."

"Any new information on them?"

"Well," Charlie shifted his weight to his other foot and pulled at the collar of his jacket.  "According to one of the agents, it's a she.  The lack of evidence she leaves during expeditions indicate she's had some time to plot her attacks and escape routes...she's more of a threat to them than those who are joining our ranks--at least on the agent-level.  Master Childe seems rather unconcerned with her."

"I see.  Well, if you're up for a greater challenge, find her.  And when you do, recruit her.  With her skillset, the destruction of the Liyue Division will happen a lot faster."

"Yes, sir."  This challenge wouldn't be easy.  It was unusual for there to be someone like him in the ranks of the Fatui, but perhaps this could be an advantage for finding this vigilante that's been the talk of the Fatui for so long.

....................

Childe had parted ways with you a few minutes ago and decided to check in with the bank before bed.  The city streets were still bustling with partiers and night owls, so he took the shortcut through neighboring alleyways to avoid the foot traffic.  

He still couldn't figure out why you went quiet after sparring.  Wasn't sure if he missed something--a cue, a word, a phrase...what was it?  And why was it bugging him so much?  His chest was tight and palms sweaty, his heart was even racing a bit.  It was unusual for him to be so on-edge.  His worries were rudely interrupted when he reached the stairs that led up to the bank.  

Millelith.

"Why aren't you helping us?! We told you everything we know! We need those documents back!"  Nadia was practically screaming at one of the authorities.  "I told you, those documents are im--" Spotting Childe, she let out a sigh of relief.  "Oh thank Her Majesty--We've been robbed, Master Childe."

"Robbed?"

"Mm, yes.  The safe was broken into, but not a single mora was taken.  The reception desk is in disarray, as is Andrei's office...papers are strewn about this way and that, and the documents Andrei was holding for you are missing."

"...I see."

"And these...these imbeciles aren't helping!  They're saying there's nothing to do but make a report!"

"I understand the situation.  I'll be taking it from here.  Please return to your post, Nadia."

She turned on her heel.  "Yes sir!"

Childe faced the Millelith again now that it was just him and them remaining.  "Any leads?"

"N-No, sir." The taller one, who was seemingly the one in charge of the investigation, held a stern expression as he stared eye-to-eye with the harbinger.  "No witnesses.  Whoever pulled this off did so with help.  The theory is at least five people were involved."

"Five?"  Childe couldn't help but scoff at such a ridiculous idea.  "And there were no witnesses at all? That's not possible."

"Sir--"

"No! You don't understand.  That's impossible.  Our security is too tight for even one person to slip through.  There had to be someone.  Are you sure you crosschecked those who are on duty?"

The guard just shrugged.  He wasn't even interested in hearing what Childe had to say!  Even the other guards that were accompanying him appeared bored and even annoyed that they had to deal with the Fatui.

Seeing this, the harbinger pulled at his hair.  Steady now, he reminded himself, Don't lose your temper here.  "If I may, I'd like to speak with your leading supervisor."

"You're lookin' at him," the lead guard answered with an arrogant smirk that pissed Childe off even more.

"Tch--Whoever's in charge of you."

"Sorry, but he's off-duty at the moment.  You can speak with him at the civil affairs tomorrow evening."

"Right."  Childe grit his teeth and took an extra deep breath to calm himself.  Of course, it didn't work.  Damn them!  If I could have it my way, they'd be lying in a pool of their own blood right here and now for their audacity to ignore a crime against us--We fund them, for crying out loud! Perhaps I should send for the Tsaritsa's wisdom-- If it weren't for Lady Signora keeping him in the dark in regards to Morax's gnosis, he wouldn't feel like a dog on a tight leash right now.  The great weapon of war forced to heel for the sake of the cryo archon's image.  Childe made his way for Andrei's office with clenched fists.

Sure enough, it was trashed.  Every document, every book, every folder lay strewn about or trampled on.  Nadia and another agent were busy sorting through and placing each in their respective places; Andrei was out near the docks so it would be awhile before anyone managed to get ahold of him...

Childe knelt at the safe under the desk that sat before the set of double-paned windows.  It was empty.  Every single letter from the Tsaritsa was inside; each detailing next and future steps for the Fatui and Northland Bank; classified documents that updated him of the politics occurring in the Motherland; evidence of...certain matters that would no doubt give the Qixing enough power to ban the presence of Fatui in Liyue.  All of it was gone.

Who'd go to such sophisticated lengths to get their hands on these?  The Qixing abide by the law, so they wouldn't do something so unorthodox.  The Millelith were definitely biased and held grudges against him, so they're not entirely ruled out...What was the suspects' goal?  A smear campaign?  If it is, they got it.  

If he hadn't been away from the office, surely they wouldn't have been so bold as to pull off a bank heist.  But one good thing came out of this:  You definitely weren't involved since you were with him.  Wait...whoever did this must've been watching him.  You could be involved if you had help, but you've never mentioned anyone helping you.  So you and this situation were completely unrelated.  That had to be the case.

Regardless, his every move is being watched.  The only question that remains is, by who?

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