#another thing is that billions seems to have so little to no room for anyone having a capacity to be Silly | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

transformee · 4 months

Text

The Naughty List

“The f- uh, can I help you?” Rick wasn’t sure how else to respond in the moment as he walked into his living room to find a large man in a red costume hunched over next to the fireplace.

“Oh, wonderful! Yes, perfect timing as a matter of fact. I was hoping I could wrap up this last stop quickly.” The man put his gloved hand on the mantle and hoisted himself upright, leaving little doubt as to his identify as he turned to face Rick. The beard, the belly, the suit – it was all there.

“Ok then, errr… Santa. I’ll play along. Did Jace put you up to this? How did you even get in here?”

“Why, through the chimney of course, just like always! Things just took a bit longer this year, but here I am!”

“Yeah, I mean, aren’t you a bit late? It’s almost New Years…”

The normally jolly look on Santa’s face soured a bit, although Rick didn’t notice. “Well, there are a couple billion more people than there used to be,” said Santa, dripping with rare sarcasm. “And no one is happy with the simple things anymore, so everything has to be bigger and bigger and better than ever before for social media and-“ Santa snapped out of his little rant, coming back to his senses. "But enough about that. Those gifts are reserved for those on the Nice list. These Naughty stops are usually much faster," he said with a chuckle.

"Ah, so I'm on the Naughty list, eh," Rick said with a smirk, now convinced that this was just a prank or little bit of roleplay that his boyfriend Jace had arranged. "What does that run these days? A few extra lumps of coal from inflation?"

"Sometimes yes, actually. It varies quite widely though, you see. And I do tend to save something... special for my last stop. it makes the rest of my year until next Christmas season much more enjoyable! And you, my little Dickie, have been on the Naughty list for so long, you finally earned that last spot..."

"Dickie? No one has called me that since I was like-"

"8, in fact."

Rick's previously amused expression slowly darkened. "And how the hell would you know THAT? I've never told anyone that, not even Jace."

"Oh, you know how all the songs go... I've been watching you for a long time, Dickie. Or would you prefer another moniker? Big Dick Rick, perhaps?"

"Ok, well, I don't have time for this anymore. Suit yourself." Rick turned around with a huff, intending to leave and accost Jace over the weird interaction in their home.

"Very well - I'll do just that!" A red cloud enveloped Rick from behind as Santa blew a handful of red dust that he had fished out from a punch on his large traditional belt. Rick coughed and waived his arms around before the cloud seemed to thicken and swirl around him until...

"THE FUCK-!?"

Just a quickly as it had swallowed him, the red cloud dissipated and left Rick wide-eyed and speechless. His clothes had all evaporated with Santa's smoke, and he was hovering a few inches above the ground. Santa just smirked as Rick spun his arms and legs around, trying to orient himself and regain some control.

"Ah, that's better! As you said, Rick, I don't have time for this early, so let's get this show on the road. I was going to give you and Jace the same special treatment that I usually save for my last stop, but I just thought of something different for you. Now... come to Santa!"

Rick's ass started to pull backwards towards Santa, with the rest of Rick floating along with it. Meanwhile Santa quickly unbuckled his belt and let his trademark pants fall to the floor, releasing his jolly belly and reveling a modest-but-erect cock aimed right at Rick's ass.

"Wait! Wha- what are you doing?!? N- EE!" Rick's protests ended with a high pitched squeak as Santa's cock slid right into his hole, leaving him mounted mid-air on Santa's crotch. A small moan escaped both their lips before Rick snapped back to his senses, albeit momentarily.

"N- no! This isn't- JACE! Jace! Ja..." Rick's words slurred and his eyes rolled back slightly as a bit more red dust sprinkled down from Santa's glove above his head.

"There, there... Just relax. That'll make this next part faster and more enjoyable for both of us," cooed Santa in Rick's ear. And with that, Santa leaned forward slightly and started to rub his gloved hands down Rick's muscular thighs, rounding his knees before pulling up slightly on his shins and feet. Again and again, Santa gently tucked Rick's lower body up towards his own as the changes slowly became more and more noticeable. With each pass, Rick's legs diminished in size, rounding off and lifting up towards their new home. Santa's balls hung low as Rick's feet finally made contact, merging and sinking inside. Within a matter a moments, Rick's legs had been fully engulfed by Santa's nuts, which now sat slightly larger in Santa's hand. He rolled them around with his gloved fingers, eliciting another louder moan from them both. And then, at least the most perfect or most awkward time...

"Rick, babe, was that you? Did you need help with something?" Jace descended the stairs down in the hall in front of the living room, giving him a direct view of the show. "Babe, what did yo-" Jace's eyes grew wide like saucers at the sight of his legless cross-eyed boyfriend magically suspended out from Santa's crotch. He would have been speechless even if a bolt of Santa's dust hadn't smacked his as soon as he turned the corner, leaving him frozen in place. A few muffled screams faded quickly as the calming effects of Santa's magic took hold.

"Oops! Well that was some interesting timing... Sorry about that, Jace, but you'll just have to wait there for your turn. Don't worry - it won't be long!"

And with that, Santa refocused on the task at hand, quite literally. "Well first, we need to do something about these big broad shoulders of yours!" Santa reached out his large hands and started to caress and press them on Rick's traps, pulling down and back and around from the base of his neck. Just like with his legs, each pass of Santa's hands brought accelerating changes as Rick's muscular shoulders and arms began to smooth down and slowly merge into his torso. Rick's biceps flexed a couple final times on reflex, but that didn't last long as they disappeared into the rest of him. Rick's new shape was becoming more and more clear unbeknownst to him. He simply remained a moaning mess mounted on Santa's cock.

"Mmmmmm, now for the best parts," Santa moaned as he reached back down towards his balls before stroking upwards. He hadn't forgotten that Rick's rock hard cock was still protruding, but not for long. Rick let out his loudest moan yet, and his eyes rolled back again as Santa pressed his cock against his abs, again and again, pressing it deeper and deeper until only Rick's smoothed abs remained. Rick groaned one last time before a different sound finally emerged - more of a gurgle. Santa purred at the new noise. "Mmmmmmm, yes, that's what I've been waiting for. That's what I love to hear..." Shifting his focus one final time, Santa stretched out with both hands as far as he could, just barely able to reach Rick's handsome face. Santa gently caressed Rick's cheeks as he pulled backwards, stroking what remained of Rick's body with both hands all the way down both sides from head to hips, stopping only to give Rick's pecs and nipples a squeeze on the way. The little bit of Rick's consciousness that struggled to hang on quickly lost its will as it felt like Santa's cock was growing inside of him with every stroke. The reality of course was slightly different as it was actually Rick's body dwindling in size. His mind was too mushy to notice however as Santa gave his pecs and nipples one last tease before they disappeared, causing that gurgling sound to bubble up from within Rick again and a dab of drool, or at least something that looked like drool, to dribble out the corner of his mouth and down his chin. Rick's hips had already disappeared into Santa's at this point, leaving what was left of him firmly attached. Santa's floating magic was barely even needed at this point as Santa had shrunk what was left of Rick down down past 3 feet to less than 2. His hands now easily reached all the way around Rick's body, so it was time to finally focus on Rick's head. Santa's gloves gently slid around his face, smoothing his forehead and chin back and down. It only took a few strokes before all that was left was Rick's tiny face on the tip of Santa's significantly larger rock-hard cock. Any illusion of Rick's torso was long gone, with cock veins clearly straining along what had been his body. Cum clearly leaked from his lips as he bobbed up and down a bit, and Rick's glazed eyes could only stare straight up at Santa's jolly face smiled down at him from above. And with that, the last thing that Rick saw was Santa's gloves bearing down on his one last time for one last tug, as his final features smoothed away, leaving just an engorged pink drooling head on the end of the dick that Rick had always been.

Santa groaned as Rick's transformation completed, with every last bit of nerve and fiber finally merged with his own.

"Nnggghhhhhhh, Big Dick Rick indeed..." Santa moaned as his new python of a cock started to soften slightly, all the while continuing to drool. "And for your first performance..." Santa's eyes gleamed as he turned and his mouth drew into a wide smirk... 'I'm going to need a volunteer!"

Horrified didn't even begin to cover it as Jace remained wide-eyed and frozen, staring at his former boyfriend leaking onto the floor from between Santa's jiggling thighs.

"For you, Jace, I've saved the usual 'gift' I give at the end of the season. This one is more for me really, but every now and then a recipient even enjoys it too! Now, don't be shy..." Santa playfully motioned for Jace with his index finger, calling him over.

"Mmmmm... mmmmmm!" Jace tried to cry out but could only manage a muffled protest as he felt himself lift off the ground slightly and twist and angle directly towards Santa. Then, suddenly and far faster than Rick had hovered, Jace was flung across the room in an instant, like a magnet flying to it partner. Jace's destination was far from a magnet however, as Big Dick Rick barreled his way between Jace's lips with a satisfying *schlorp*. Jace gagged from having such a massive member suddenly down his throat, but he quickly relaxed as a light sprinkle of that familiar red dusted his face. His eyes crossed and rolled back as he started to go to town on his former boyfriend, using every trick and tongue that he had ever learned. Santa practically roared in pleasure.

"Good lord, boy! I didn't even suggest... any...JESUS, you're good at this!" Santa could barely form a thought while getting what must've been the best blowjob of his life. He only wished it could've lasted longer, but Rick was so... so... sensitive...!

Three souls groaned as Santa's body started to buck and his 'gift' started to pour into Jace. A torrent of cum and mass and magic erupted from Rick's old lips straight down Jace's throat - far more than should have been physically possible. But this was no normal load, as Jace's body started to quiver. Not that Jace could discern anything further, but Santa's ample body was undergoing a change of its own. His belly shook like a bowl full of jelly as it receded inwards, all while Jace's breathing grew more labored. His tight-fitting clothes groaned, stretching at the seams as Jace expanded in all directions. Every part of him inflated like a balloon as Santa's did the opposite, with the disappearing mass revealing a sculpted physical behind. After the magical climax, Santa slowed stepped back, sliding his cock out of his cock's boyfriend's now-chubby face. Jace slumped to the floor on his knees, leaving his rotund rear end sticking up in the air.

"Aahhhhhh, that always feels soooooo much better, like the best version of getting your hair cut." A barely recognizable figure chuckled over the comatose boyfriend on the floor. Santa's traditional clothes started to shimmer and warp as they slowly reformed on his body. His coat pulled in quickly and tightly, foregoing new sleeves while his baggy pants snaked out from the ground, wrapping themselves around Nick’s tight thighs with a trim fit before covering the softening cock inside, sealing it in its new home.

"This is what can happen to those on the Naughty list, gentlemen. Now, we can revisit your Naughty status near year, depending on your behavior of course. But with that, I think we can call this season a wrap! Time to hit up somewhere warm like Miami and have some fun for a bit!” And with that and a little strut, Nick made his way out of the house, giving Jace’s ample airborne ass a little slap along the way. He stretched his muscles, now on full display, and summoned his list with a puff of red smoke to cross his last names off for the year. However…

“Well what’s this? Did I miss one somehow? I guess we have one more quick stop this year, Rick!” said Nick as he pawed at his crotch with a smirk. “Now let’s see. Bryce… Bryce… are we Naughty or Nice! Ah ha! N-“

———————————————————————

Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, and Happy New Year to all, especially @bizzhideaway ! 😁

#mywork #tfstoryexchange

192 notes · View notes

wolven91 · 11 months

Text

Apathy

[Trigger Warnings- Self Harm, Suicide Idealisation.]

The bleeding had apparently ebbed overnight.

Harry had made sure each of the new ones had pretty much stopped by the time he pulled the covers over himself, but the darker, fresh scabs that dotted the new valleys in his skin told him that they had still been going or had at the very least opened in the night.

He ran his fingers over the marred flesh of his thigh pulling it one way or another. He didn't wince at the fresh flash of pain that burned at his touch.

This was good, he'd be able to walk around and simply by putting his hands in his pockets, he could touch the new stripes without anyone seeing or knowing.

He could still wear shorts and T-shirts, no one would ever see that far up his arms or legs. He didn't want attention, he just needed them to feel better.

He sat on the edge of his bunk and sighed as he glanced around the room. It was larger than his place back 'home', but he just couldn't find it in himself to care.

The grey world that surrounded him did not motivate him anymore than usual. Nothing seemed to penetrate through to him. He could laugh on command, smile so it touched his eyes, he could be the perfect little citizen without ever feeling part of his fellows.

His apathy was complete.

The self inflicted cuts to his shoulders and thighs were his method of adding a splash of colour to this distant world. The pain, the adrenaline, the dose of endorphins, it all broke through the grey-ness.

For a time.

He got dressed, brushed his teeth and went to work.

He was just a clerk for a station in the outer edges of ursidain and taurian territories. Nothing fancy, but after everything that happened, the aliens had suggested work would make him feel better. He agreed because it was easier than fighting it.

The work hadn't helped.

When he entered the office there was a new alien there; tall and slender, its long legs ended in hooves. Its head was long with eyes on either side of the skull. The natural mohican hairstyle stood out from the rest of the short fur that covered it from head to toe. The black and white stripes were stark against the beige office space.

They were chatting with his boss about something, it didn't matter to Harry, if it involved him, they'd come talk to him.

A new alien wasn't impressive, there were a billion things that Harry didn't know. He was aware he hadn't even met each member of The Galactic Community yet.

Settling down at his desk, he and his colleagues went through the motions.

"Morning."

"You okay?"

"Yeah, you?"

"Yeah."

No one cared.

No one asked if you were okay and meant it. It would be like slapping them across the face if he explained that he wished every evening that something would happen that would remove him from existence.

He'd bounced a baseball off his view port in a vague notion that if it broke the window, he'd be immediately removed from the problem that was his life and it would have been an accident.

But even if someone asked him and meant it, he didn't have a valid reason to feel this way. He was healthy, he had a room to himself, he had a job... he felt worse because he shouldn't feel this way.

As he keyed his computer system on, the hand in his pocket pressed against the ridges underneath the material. The sensation distracted him for a few moments.

"Harry!" His boss's voice called from behind him. Jumping and twirling around he found himself looking at his boss and their new guest.

"We've got a new set of guests to the station, more will be arriving this month and they need help setting up their admin systems apparently." His boss gave him an award winning smile and continued; "You've made a name for yourself, Chee here has asked for you personally. Chee if you'll wait outside, Harry and I will get everything together that he needs."

The tall white and black alien gave a graceful bow, completely silent and retreated from the room.

"Odd ones..." his boss started. "I don't know what you've done, but she wanted no one but you. I've been told to accommodate them by any means necessary, so you're an ambassador now. Ah! No complaints, just do it."

Harry shut his trap.

The one upside to apathy is that nothing bothered him.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

In the lift that flew them to the new species wing on the station, Chee, turned to Harry.

"We need to visit the Medical Centre before we can go to the Administration Section, if that is alright?"

Her voice was soft and had a lilt to it. She clasped her hands together in front of herself as she spoke to Harry.

"Yeah, no worries." Harry said absently, they probably just wanted to make sure he wasn't infected with anything, according to his boss,a well meaning taurian, most new species were nervous.

The lift doors opened to the white tiles and sterile feel of a Medical Centre.

Another of the creatures was already there and waiting for them.

"No, we aren't concerned of infection. We are just aware that you are injured. Our first action is to help you, then we can address the other issues."

She said with warm and intentional care, ducking her head slightly.

Harry frowned. He hadn't vocalised his thoughts and he wasn't injured? He checked his nose to see if it was bleeding.

They stepped forwards towards the medical uniform clad alien who gave a slight bow and gestured towards an open room.

"We are able to read your thoughts as you and many others unconsciously project them outwards as open books. We are sorry for this, but it is not intentional."

Harry stopped and felt a cold sensation slither up his spine, he was immediately alarmed and wanted to run. He instantly believed them, there were creatures up here that could hypnotise, let alone read minds.

He was naked in front of these things and they knew his secrets, all of the worst ones that ran over his skin in a crisscross pattern.

The door closed and he was pulled into a hug by the now crouched alien.

"You are not alone young Harry. We see you. We understand and we wish to help, if you will continue to come here each morning."

He resisted for a time, flinching at the contact, before his imposed shell cracked, and he had to blink to prevent himself from crying.

A lump in his throat prevented him from talking, but that really wasn't an issue in the end.

"It's okay; we see you. You'll be okay. You're safe now. Ssh, it's okay..." as an alien hand brushed against the back of his head soothingly.

Chee's kind were known as esquinines and were shocked at how common in humans this issue was. So many felt alone, an antithesis to esquinine kind where they enjoyed what was akin to a hivemind over many minds, completely open to one another. A single community of genuine love and affection.

These humans, had spent hundreds of years shouldering their burdens alone with many feeling they couldn't reach out through no fault of their own.

Then they suffered unimaginable pain and loss.

No more.

If Chee had to reach out to every single human suffering in this manner on her own; she would.

Thankfully, her kind agreed as one, the humans were their goal now, they would help the humans as best they could, wherever they could.

#conservationverse #cuddleverse #human #esquinine #potentially triggering

53 notes · View notes

shirohige-pirates · 4 months

Text

Birds of a Feather

CisFem Reader x Marco

CW: Violence, blood, language, adult themes and scenes. 18+ only

Summary: Life has not been kind to you. After a string of bad relationships, you're a little jaded and a little depressed in all honestly. The worst day of your life seems to be the turning point, but the roller coaster ride that follows could either throw you soaring free, or have you caged forever?

Tag List: @clumsyraccoon

Chapter 30: Brotherly Rage

Teach hangs up the phone and adjusts you so he’s carrying you almost kindly. He begins to walk up the stairs and you’re not sure what to say.

Saying what you want seems a poor choice.

Saying nothing is making you sick with nerves and you can’t ignore the pain that way.

“How much?” You ask quietly as he sets you on a counter in the bathroom.

“How much what, trinket?”

You bit back the urge to snap at him. “How much money are you trying to get?”

“One point five billion berry.” He answers flatly, turning on the shower.

“Why?”

“None of your business, trinket.”

“I’m not a-.”

“Yer Marco’s most precious little bauble.” He interrupts curtly. “His greatest gods-lovin’ treasure, if you ask me. I haven’t seen him give two shits about someone for years after he an’ that red-headed cunt went their separate ways." His voice is neutral, business and nothing else. Talking more to keep you from asking him annoying questions, you were sure.

“Sure he loves that clinic, probably cares about the employees enough, I could’ve done somethin’ with anyone ah them.” He admits, moving his hand away from the water stream. “You got two choices trinket. Strip and clean yourself up, or get uselessly shy and I’ll strip you and clean you myself. Can’t patch yer wounds until we clean that plaster an’ such away.”

You slip off the counter, moving toward the tub as you slowly start to pull off your clothes. “I can clean myself without help or supervision.” You insist, wincing again the pain of cuts and bruises you didn’t want to think about right now.

“I’m not letting you out of my sight, trinket. Devil fruit users are slicker’n snot and I don’t know what yours does.”

“Humph. Nothing.” You grumble the words, making sure your practiced disdain seeps out naturally.

The sound of Teach’s strike was the only warning you had, and you turned your head enough to make what would’ve been a brain rattling strike into something that only split your lip and bruised the side of your face. Even with your reaction it still nearly took you off your feet.

“Don’t lie to me again, trinket.” He warns, stepping back in the small bathroom and giving you some illusion of space.

There was no curtain around the tub and shower. You left your under clothes on and Teach didn’t tell you to take them off. You washed blood, shards of wood and plaster off as best as you could, pulling a few large splinters free on your own.

“Hmph, I expected to see your wounds just close up.” He grumbles. “Dry off, and sit back on the counter, I’ll do the rest.”

“I’m… not going to die from this.” You say the words carefully, glancing at him as you shuffle your way to the counter.

“Probably not.” He agrees, but doesn’t say anything else.

You finish drying off and hop up onto the counter, seated so he can reach your back fairly easily. Teach pulls out a few pieces of debris you hadn’t been able to reach, pouring on disinfectant and pulling a hissed swear from you before he put bandages on what needed it.

“Grab yer clothes and sit by the fire until your underpants dry and then get dressed.”

You nod, grabbing up your clothes and heading out of the room. You’re patched up, but everything still hurts. The bruises are going to ache for days at least, and it burns like glass and fire just to breathe. Despite your hobbling nature, Teach isn’t ever more than a pace or two away from you. You wish you were fit enough to be irritated by it, but trying to run now would earn you little more than another beating.

The only thing that irritated you at this exact moment was that you could get away. But that would mean using your devil fruit in front of someone, and you hadn’t even used your devil fruit privately for almost a decade at this point.

You had been painfully careful about using it when you first arrived on this island. After a while there were idle comments from Ivankov that made you decide to just stop using it altogether. How much you seemed to know, how well-read you were, how she didn’t remember giving you books on certain topics.

Nothing accusatory, nothing cruel. Idle musings from someone who was beaming with pride, but his words made you anxious. If Ivan had noticed, then others might eventually, and if others noticed, then your secret would be out, and the island would be in danger.

If you thought Teach was going to kill you, you’d use it.

If you thought he was going to kill anyone, you’d use it.

You pulled on your clothes once the fire had dried you enough that you wouldn’t have to worry about cold soggy bottoms. To Teach’s credit, he didn’t once make any comments about your appearance, and you never felt or saw him leering at you.

He was a bastard, but apparently he wasn’t that kind of bastard.

Still, if he had even an inkling of what your powers were, you were certain that he’d no longer give a shit about a few billion berries. The prize for just having information on you or the fruit was substantial. If they didn’t kill him outright for knowing who you were, the prize for turning you in was probably enough to turn Heun prosperous for a century or two.

That kind of money made fools of saints, and a saint Teach was not.

“Now we sit here and wait?” You question, staying seated near the hearth, careful not to let your clothes catch the flames.

“Yup.” Teach replies, comfy in the big recliner chair near where he’d first pretended to plug in your phone.

“… Any chance I could actually charge my phone now?”

Teach ponders it for a moment, grabbing the charger and your phone and tossing them over to you. Looking around you realize there’s an outlet not too far away from you and so you plug everything in and focus on it until it has enough juice you can power it up.

You glance up at Teach as it boots up, but he’s just looking back at you. He’s not getting ready to knock it out of your hand, or say anything, so you continue using it.

There’s a few missed calls, and some missed texts, almost all of them within the last few minutes.

Marco: Did you get lost?

Marco: Pretty bird?

Marco: We found your car, I hope you’re okay.

Marco: It’s going to be okay, my love, I promise.

The few minutes between the second to last and last message really put into perspective how little time had passed. The short window that Teach had created. The efficiency with which he had used those precious few minutes.

You decide to reply to the texts. If Teach didn’t want you to send messages via text, he wouldn’t have let you charge your phone in the first place. Whatever he and Marco had agreed on, whatever he had planned, he wasn’t concerned about you, that much was obvious.

You: I know.

You: I’m okay. Cleaned up, and patched up. He hasn’t done anything.

A response from Marco was so quick you almost dropped the phone.

Marco: How did you get hurt?

You: Tried to run. Spit on his phone. He nearly put me through a wall. It looked worse than it is. I’m sore, but I’m okay.

Marco: I’m so sorry.

You: No. You didn’t do this. Don’t apologize.

You: I love you. It’ll be okay, like you said.

Marco: I’ll be there as fast as I can.

“You drink all that cocoa?” Teach asks, pulling your attention up from the phone.

You give him a long look for a moment, and then answer curtly. “No.”

“Yer a smart girl, trinket.”

“I feel a bit like an idiot for having ended up here.” You admit, aggravation in your voice.

“Eh... You gonna tell me what kind of devil fruit you got?”

“Nope.”

“If I tell you, ya have to?” He says, voice low and dangerous.

You consider quietly for a moment, and answer without looking at him. “I’d say you don’t have the time to break me, and if you kill me, you’ll never see a single berry again.”

“Been tortured before, have ye?”

You’re quite for a long moment. The honest answer is, no, you haven’t been tortured before. You’ve been emotionally manipulated and worn down, nearly convinced to hand over your freedom for the sake of a family who saw you collateral and not as a human. You’ve been desperate to survive in a world you knew very little about while also coming to terms with what you assumed would be an inevitably early death.

In the end, you’d survived. Whether by luck or fate didn’t really matter.

“We’ll just say I’m currently inclined to die before I answer your question.”

“I can appreciate that.”

Teach’s attempt to have a conversation between the two of you died after that. You left your phone alone while it charged, letting your mind and eyes wander in the flames of the hearth. Everything ached, your body hurt indiscriminately, but your cheek throbbed the most.

Tension was making your jaw set harshly, and that was making your cheek hurt, and that just made all the rest of your muscles tense. The only pain relief you had was to relax, and the only thing you couldn’t do was relax.

The time ticked away slowly.

Slowly, but inevitably, as the fire in the hearth began to visibly die down.

You shifted away from the hearth as Teach stood up and tossed a couple more logs onto it. He paused after he got it rolling properly, and looked out the window.

“Ah, he’s here.”

You look over to see the signs of headlights pulling up to the house as a rough hand grabs you by the back of your shirt, hauling you onto your feet and pulling you toward the back of the house. You hiss in pain, the swift action is like needles against your back, even with the bandages. You scramble to keep your feet under you as he throws you at the desk in the office room.

“Keep your hands on it.” He commands, and you hear the click of the pistol from earlier. Your back’s to the door that leads into the office, but you can see Teach as he moves to other side of it, the barrel pointed in your direction. “First hand to leave that desk is the one you lose, got it?”

“Yeah.” You force yourself to breathe, keeping your hands flat on the desk. Having your back to the door is hard. Not being able to see him, not being able to have some way of grounding yourself. So you focused on the desk when the front door opens.

Focused on the desk when you heard him call out for Teach.

Focused on the desk when Teach yelled for him to come to the office.

Focused on the desk when the hairs on your body stood on end, the barrel of Teach’s pistol suddenly far more threatening than it had been. You weren’t watching him, but you could feel his finger on the trigger.

“Set the bag down.” Teach instructs. You can’t see Marco, but you can tell where he is. Something from him reaches out to you. The first truly warm sensation you’ve felt since your car died.

You hear the fwump of a cloth bag hit the floor. It certainly sounds loud enough to have all the money in it Teach wants.

“Aim that at me.” Marco demands, and Teach laughs.

“Not a chance. Sea stone bullets or not, the first shot’s going in her. Hand, head, or heart depends on how you two behave.” You hear the gun cock and a cold shiver tenses your muscles. “Behave well enough, and all the bullets stay in the gun.”

Marco puts his hands up in surrender and Teach’s demeanor shifts.

“Now that’s what I like to see.” He grins, shifting around the room and out of your view. You feel the barrel of the pistol press against the back of your head. “There’s a pair o’ cuffs in the desk drawer, I suggest you put them on.”

Marco moves into your view, taking up Teach’s original position behind the desk. You look up at him, moving as little as possible. His eyes are hard and cold, locked on Teach. You both know your options will be far more limited with Marco in cuffs, but all Teach has to do is sneeze and it’ll be the end of you.

“Where’s the key, yoi?” He questions, pulling a pair of heavy iron shackles out of the drawer, and putting them on. Sweat beads on his skin, the color draining from his face and he nearly loses his footing. You almost move to help him, but you remember Teach’s words and keep your hands on the desk.

You’re so close. Close, and so painfully far away. Marco tries to stay standing, but the effect of the sea stone is too much and he sits in the chair so heavily it scrapes backward across the floor a couple inches with a sickening screech.

“Nasty strong, aren’t they?” Teach laughs. You can see strain etched on Marco’s face. He looks older than he’s ever looked before, it’s almost like the sea stone is poisoning him. “The key’s upstairs somewhere.” He adds idly.

You turn, mind already on the task of setting off after that key once Teach leave, when a strong hand pushes the middle of your back swiftly, slamming you flat onto the desk. You yelp from the unexpected attack, and can hear the chains of Marco’s shackles shift, Teach’s name on his lips in the shape of a swear. There’s a loud crack, and with cold dread you realize Teach has fired the gun.

“Move up out of that chair again, brother,” Teach says flatly. “And we’ll both learn if she’s got the kind of devil fruit what saves a person from being shot.

“Or not.”

Even with the cuffs on, you can feel his anger in the air. You want to tell him to calm down, that the anger’s just going to burn through what energy he has, but you’d be just as angry if the situation was reversed.

“Now that everyone is in an amenable position, I’m going to tell you a story. One that will be interesting to both of you.” You can hear the glee in his voice and it’s pissing you off.

“I’d start from the beginning, but ol’ Marco here knows most of it, so let’s just skip to, Roger tried to save the world and bloody failed. Sure he made it better, but not better enough. No pirates, and no real freedom either, a total loss. So what’s a gent like me to do?” Teach’s hand tightens it’s grip on your back and you hiss in a breath of pain.

“Ah, sorry, trinket.”

“What did you call her?” Marco’s voice was strained from the seastone, but it was tight with fear suddenly.

“Zhe-hahaha, you do remember!” Teach grabs you by the back of your neck and yanks you up. Your feet aren’t touching the floor, and your thighs are braced against the edge of the desk. Teach is too big for you to do anything but dangle, but he’s also almost palming your shoulders, so it’s not hard to breathe.

“There’s two devil fruits I’ve always been after, trinket.” Teach says, certainly talking more to you than Marco, but the two brothers were keeping a sharp watch on each other. “One, I got. Found the Dark Fruit a couple years ago. Just from wandering around the Grandline. Laying about like it was waiting for me. It’s always been part of a greater plan of mine, one that, admittedly, was easier to see come to fruition before the King ‘o Pirates screwed the world.

“The other was a fruit most people didn’t think was actually a devil fruit. All descriptions of it defy what we expect. Smooth, unpatterned, perfectly round, no stem or anything. So smooth and flawless it was more like a pearl than a fruit.”

All the blood drains from you. You were certain Teach could feel your body go cold.

“It had become an heirloom of sorts. Given to cross-island Nobles and Royalty looking to make political alliances. Not a gift, so much as a symbol.

“A trinket.”

Your throat goes dry. Eyes that hadn’t been looking at anything landed on Marco’s. You hadn’t told him the specifics of your devil fruit, anymore than he’d told you the specifics of his. But it seems, for different reasons, and in different ways, you both knew something about the other by accident.

“Turns out this little bauble was lost, last it was gifted, and everyone wanted it back. Not just the Royal family that had gifted it, but also the World Government, and they wanted it so bad that there was talk about just unleashing a buster call on the island to wipe everyone out. Dead bodies means the fruit would reform somewhere at least, yeah?”

You felt like you were going to be sick. You knew your home island hadn’t been leveled by a buster call, you kept your eye out for news about it all the time. You didn’t know the island’s name, but a buster call was devastation that couldn’t be buried.

But, you also knew why they wouldn’t risk it.

A devil fruit user on the island was a needle in a single haystack. The devil fruit itself could pop up literally anywhere. The needle then became one in one of thousands of haystacks. Even if they wanted to keep the details of the fruit secret, they wanted the fruit more.

“Seems I’m a damn sight better at talkin’ to the locals than the Government.” Teach continues, leaning over you enough to talk right into your ear. “Cause I found this one homeless scamp, had the most interesting story about a girl sharing a fruit with him. Taking a bite out of it to prove it wasn’t poisoned.”

“Teach.” Marco’s voice was desperate, caught between fear and anger.

“You know they’re offering three billion berries just for information?” He says, ignoring Marco. “What would they offer me if I brought the precious little trinket back?”

“Don’t,” Marco insists, the keening scrape of metal against metal as he tried to move. To plead, to beg if he needed to. “Teach, I’ll get you every berri on this island, don’t.”

“Do you know what her devil fruit is, brother dear?”

“It doesn’t matter.” His anger is gone, almost completely replaced by fear.

“Listen to you. You fell even harder than I thought. Well, it’s my fault, I should’ve followed my instincts from the beginning, pulled you off the street when you had that pup in your hands. I didn’t expect you to go back to the clinic again. Getting a lift from my frustratingly astute brother both times.”

“Friday… when I went to visit Azul.” You close your eyes in frustration. “I wasn’t imagining things.”

“Oh-ho-ho, you’re sharper than I thought. The dog must’ve been distracting you.” Teach laughs. “Marco really did land quite the rare bird!”

“Do you know?” You question. You’re trying to force yourself to be calm, to focus on the one thing that Teach’s fruit doesn’t let him suppress. It’s not something you’re easily capable of using, but you only need it for a moment to break his hold.

“Eh?”

“What it does?” You prompt, eyes on Marco as you try to focus on the energy that pulses through every person. Roger wielded it like breathing, even today certain marines were renown for their control of it. You could get there, you just needed time to focus. Haki was a gift bestowed upon the masses, but what use did an accountant have for it?

A lot, apparently. You admonish yourself for a second, wishing you’d spent at least a little more time honing the skill. Being able to use it was all well and good, but you needed too much time to concentrate on it for it to be useful in a fight.

“You asked me what it did earlier, but if you know so much, you must have some idea.” You lick your lips, trying to buy as much time as possible.

“I know it lets you transform.” Teach scoffs. “Not that I imagine that’s the truth of it, are you going to finally tell me, trinket? Is it something good enough to convince me not to turn ya in, eh?”

“Something like that. I can say at least it has the potential to earn you far more than the meager billions the Government would offer, assuming they even let you live for your troubles.” You explain as calmly as you can. Your stomach’s in so many knots you think the only reason you haven’t tossed the contents of it all over the desk is because you’re too nervous to puke.

“You’re really talking it up, trinket.” Teach says, a warning edge in his voice. You cut in before he can continue.

“Let go of me, just for a minute, and I’ll show you a library with all the knowledge of this world contained within it. Everything. The lost centuries, how to read poneglyphs, all the islands of the world mapped, ways to navigate the grandline without a log pose.” You say it quickly, making sure you get it all out before nerves or Teach’s lack of patience cuts you short.

Teach’s hand tightens, and he pushes you into the desk to the point that it’s hard to breathe against the added pressure. The pressure and rough grip persist until you cry out and squirm, the desire to breathe and get away from the pain overtaking your fear of getting shot.

“Betray me, trinket, and I’ll teach you things you can’t learn from a book.” He promises before finally letting up.

You sucked in a greedy breath, filling burning lungs despite the compounding pain of breathing so deeply in the first place. You hold a hand up toward Marco, as coughs make your whole body shudder. It takes you a minute to catch your breath, and in that time you slip off the desk and sit on the floor, looking up at Teach as you regain your composure.

The pistol’s in his hand, but at least for now he’s just pointing it down at the floor and not at anyone. All that concentration and build up to use haki, and now you didn’t even need it. You couldn’t believe the dumb luck that this idiot actually let go of you.

You consider saying something, doing something. Some final words or motion to bid him farewell, but instead, you just open the doors to the Library.

Right under his fucking feet.

#Birds of a Feather #Marco x reader #x reader #reader insert #marco the phoenix #marco the pineapple #modern au

17 notes · View notes

blood-darkened-moon · 1 year

Text

Alexia’s feelings for Alfred

I hate so much how they’ve butchered Alfred and Alexia’s relationship in Darkside Chronicles. The unconditional love these two shared was the best part of the game. Seriously, if you think Alexia secretly hated Alfred, you haven’t played CV. In the infamous video where they torture a dragonfly and feed the ants with it, you can already see that there is some mutual affection between them. It isn’t one-sided. And if this isn’t enough to convince you, Alexia’s reaction to Alfred’s death makes it obvious.

For context, in DC, Alfred survives moderately injured in his final confrontation with Claire and Steve. He wakes Alexia up, and then she kills Alfred because she is bored of him. He was a toy for her, and now he is no longer useful or entertaining. DC-Alexia is childish, megalomaniac, and purely evil. That’s it.

In CV, Alfred barely survives his final confrontation with Claire and Steve. He is heavily injured and loses a lot of blood, but he still makes it to the room Alexia is in, and wakes her up shortly before his death. Witnessing her brother die makes her go fully berserk. Alexia sends her tentacles after Claire and Steve, who have already brought some distance between themselves and the Antarctica Base. In the meantime, Alexia holds Alfred’s dead body in her arms and gently strokes his hair. He is already gone no need to pretend anything. Also, she sits there fully naked on the metal floor, her skin probably still wet from the liquid in the cryostasis tank. It must be freezing cold. Alexia doesn’t care about herself at this point. Everything that counts at this very moment is her brother. Later on, you can see her again. She is still sitting there, but now she is dressed up. I assume this is after she injected Steve with the virus. Let me get this straight. She was with Alfred for who knows how long, took a little break to take care of Steve and Claire, then returned to cradle his corpse in her arms and sing a lullaby for him while the warmth was leaving his body. How can you think she didn’t love him?

Afterward, Alexia places Alfred’s corpse in the cryogenic freezer, probably to slow down or stop the decomposition. She does not accept his death, isn’t ready to say farewell forever. Likely, she wants to use the t-Veronica virus to revive him, if possible, without severe mutations or waiting 15 years. That’s also the reason why she didn’t kill Steve and Claire immediately out of revenge. She needs someone to test it, but everyone else in the base is dead. Steve is male as well. Therefore, he probably will deliver better results, so she uses him first. Claire stays glued to the stairs, otherwise unharmed, as a backup.

The only time Alexia said anything remotely negative about Alfred is when she calls him an “inept but loyal soldier ant” in one of the files, but this is situational. She wrote the text shortly before she went to her cryogenic sleep. At this time, Alfred was a more or less average 12-year-old kid and very clingy too. Her brother was simply way too young for the important and difficult task that lay ahead of him. However, she couldn’t trust anyone else with it. He has to keep her safe for 15 years. Having doubts that Alfred has the strength to do this is a legitimate concern. And yes, in another document, she wrote: ”The ecosystem of the ants seems truly ideal to me. There is one queen ant in each anthill, and the soldier and worker ants are the queen's slaves. They dedicate their lives to the queen. The death of the queen ant means the doom of the entire anthill. However, the soldier and worker ants can be easily replaced as long as the queen ant is alive. This is exactly the same relationship between myself and other ignorant masses.” Things like this are easy to say when you’ve never lost anyone who was dear to you. She may have thought so at the time of writing this, but her reaction to Alfred’s death proves that she was mistaken. He is the only one she ever cared for. Billions of slaves cannot replace her twin brother, no one can.

Alexia is usually a very rational and calculating person, as you can see in the game. Despite her hatred for Claire and Steve, she hasn’t given in to the heat of the moment and killed them. Neither did she allow herself to cry once. Succumbing to sadness won’t help. Crying has never saved anyone. The enemies surrounding her won’t allow any signs of weakness either. She must stay strong and think rationally while the situation spirals increasingly out of her control. But you can see her emotions slip through occasionally. About to lose her brother forever, she goes through a emotional rollercoaster. Alexia isn’t as cold as you would expect after everything you’ve learned about her. There is hatred toward Claire and Steve, who did this to Alfred. She tosses the snowmobile around in a rage, about to obliterate them. There is sadness when her brother’s lifeless body lies in her arms and the unwillingness to accept his fate. When Steve is about to kill Claire, Alexia’s tentacles hold her in place. She wants him to suffer, wants to afflict the same pain on him she is feeling right now. And before the final battle with Chris, Alexia starts one last attempt to make Claire pay for want she did. Also, Alexia giggles like a maniac in every dialogue. But imagine her situation: you wake up after 15 years just to see your brother dying, the base is partially destroyed, you have no idea what is going on, everyone is dead, zombies and BOWs everywhere, and you’re attacked by multiple enemies for unknown reasons. It wasn’t planned like this. She wanted a kingdom, not this post-apocalyptic nightmare. There is nothing unusual about people reacting with laughter as a response to a terrifying, traumatic, or surprising experiences. It's too much to bear for her. Her laughter is likely an acute stress reaction, not a sign of madness.

Let’s skip to the end of the game. After Chris activates the self-destruct system, Alexia rushes toward the control room. The whole place is about to explode. Why doesn’t she escape? Apparently, she only needs the t-Veronica virus for her world domination plans to succeed, and she has it in her blood. Losing her ants and the equipment would slow her down, not stop her. Alexia is patient, she waited 15 years and can wait a little longer.

Is she bent on revenge? Alexia has already proven that she can control her emotions, no need to take any risks. Attacking directly with less than 5 minutes left doesn’t seem to be a logical decision. If she wants to kill Chris and Claire, nothing is easier than this. She can destroy the jet, their only way to get away from Antarctica. They can still get out of the base, but with temperatures below 0 °C, a snowstorm raging, no vehicle, and without appropriate clothes, this equals a death sentence.

And why does she go after Chris, not Claire? Claire is responsible for Alfred’s death. She should be the target. However, after this one attempted attack, Alexia lets her escape. Chris defeating her earlier in a fight was inconvenient, but she can regenerate, no problem. And Chris wasn’t even the one who started it. How can this be worse than killing her brother? Except for this, Chris hasn’t even done anything to her. Girl, just leave.

Also, have you ever noticed how passive Alexia is and that she has surprisingly little dialogue? The only time she actually engages in a fight is after Wesker enforces it. Otherwise, she says only a couple of sentences (usually threatens Chris), giggles manically, and disappears again. And when she’s confronting Chris and Claire for the last time, she doesn’t even say a single word, no elaborated villain monologue, no talk about how superior she is, how she wants to reform the world and turn all humans into her slaves, nothing. She’s completely silent.

At this point, Alexia has already made up her mind. This is one final desperate attempt to stop the self-destruct system and save Alfred or die trying. She doesn’t want revenge right now, nor does she want to escape. World domination is suddenly not important anymore. The only thing she truly wants is to have her brother back. She must have realized how stupid her plan was, a childish delusion. And Alfred had to pay the price for her foolishness. All her powers weren’t worth it. She isn’t a queen ant, and Alfred wasn’t a soldier ant. She cannot live alone without him. Her powers, her intellect, nothing matters anymore if she can’t save him. She must stop the self-destruct system, otherwise, Alfred will be lost. To have a chance, Alexia needs a lab, the cryogenic freezer, and she can’t drag Alfred’s body around in the frozen tundra for hours.

Alexia has tried to threaten Chris, tried to scare him away with Alexander’s remains, and hoped he would leave her alone after he got what he wanted (Claire). It didn’t work. Now she says nothing because there is nothing left to say. Every word would be a waste of time. Chris and Claire are her enemies. She can’t expect mercy from them, especially not after everything that happened. Alexia attacks Chris because he stands in her way and won’t just go. Claire can wait. Alexia has decided that she doesn’t want to live in a world without her brother. The past hours gave her a glimpse of how empty her life would be. It ends here either she can save him now, or she joins him in death.

DC didn’t do her character justice. Alexia was misguided. She was never the plainly evil monster they tried to make of her. Deep down under her cold and calculating façade, she had a very caring side. During her last hours, Alexia must have been full of pain, guilt, despair, sorrow, fear, and regret. Her brother meant the world to her. Not only Alfred was ready to die for her, Alexia was ready to do the same for him.

#resident evil #resident evil code veronica #alexia ashford #alfred ashford #meta #what she did to alexander was a different story #🩸🌙#ashford twins

67 notes · View notes

kimbap-r0ll · 2 years

Text

Chrollo x bounty hunter!reader - Caught in Webs

A gender neutral hxh fic I wrote! It's a bit dark, and Chrollo can seem slightly yandere but he's not actually a yandere in this one, just a bit of a thief.

Checking your surroundings, you delve deeper into the museum. It was still noon, the sun was bright outside, people were enjoying the weather. But the museum was closed, closed when it should’ve been open. The reason? A notorious band of thieves crashed it right in the morning, a daring move. This was almost an insult to the local police force, maybe the whole government. Everyone inside was evacuated, but the police and the special forces that had entered at 10am weren’t coming back outside. People stood around the yellow police tape, watching intently for this band of thieves to show their faces and bare their fangs.

Little did anyone know that a bounty hunter had entered through a window and was on the mission of retrieving at least one of the members. You were to kill them or bring them back alive, it didn’t matter to the politician that contracted you. Though his hands were soaked in corruption, you couldn’t deny that his offer of 3 billion Jenny was delectable. He must’ve really wanted to win the next election or so.

The museum’s electricity was shut off. You could only use the flashlight you had brought with you on this mission. Any of the twelve legs could be hiding in here, perhaps there could be one behind you right now. But you had to be brave, you passed the hunter exam and you were a skilled nen user, so you should be a bit more confident.

Trying your best to hide your presence, you tried your best to keep a state of zetsu. You had to see if you could feel anyone else’s nen, but knowing your opponent you knew they wouldn’t show their colors quite yet.

It didn’t look like a lot of things were stolen from the exhibition room that you were in. Perhaps they were down in the basement where all the other artifacts were, the ones that were being researched on by the historians and archeologists. Taking a deep breath, you decide to head downstairs.

That is until you heard voices.

Rolling over to your side, you waited with bated breath. It had to be them. There were at least three different voices coming from at least 50 meters from you. It wasn’t far, not enough for you to find a better hiding spot than behind a statue. You weren’t sure if your special ability would be able to stop them, and you were sure a bullet from your gun would do nothing to them. The last time you researched the Phantom Troupe, they could apparently stop bullets.

“Man, boss really wanted to come all the way here for just that? It looks like a regular necklace,” one of the voices said. It sounded like someone much more muscular than you. From his tone, you could guess he would be an enhancer.

“You heard him though, it’s worth more than the neighboring country’s king. Not to mention, it’s got some nen with it, it’s bound to be helpful at some point,” another voice spoke. It was another man, but he seemed calmer.

“Whatever, hey boss! Are we done here?!” the enhancer’s voice boomed in the echo chamber that was the museum. You were sure the head of the spider was close, probably the one nicknamed “boss.”

You steadied yourself to catch at least one of them. You weren’t sure how, but you would make an attempt. But right when you were about to, the flashlight you had turned off fell out of your pocket.

CLANG

It rang in your ears, driving your heartbeat faster. You stumbled back, startled by your mistake. Your brain was going haywire, you didn’t know if you should run or keep hiding. No, you can’t hide! You were going to die if they made the first move, so you’re brain told you to just get up. At least from there you could choose to either charge at them or turn your heels into the basement.

You rose up, looking dead in the eyes with a trio of shadows in the darkness. One of them was extremely tall, another seemed to have a topknot, and the one in the middle was wearing what looked like a fancy coat.

You didn’t take a second to dash out of there. You were sure they were following you, but you heard chatter. Maybe they were deciding how they were going to kill you? Ah, fuck it, you didn’t have time to think when you’re life was on the line. You could almost see the three billion Jenny floating away in front of you as you swung the doors into the basement open. All the doors were unlocked thanks to the power outage.

Crashing into multiple shelves, you hid amongst the books. The dust fell into your hair and the smell of old paper stung your nose. You tried to keep your breath in control but the overwhelming fear that suddenly swept into you wasn’t helping.

Why were things always unlucky for you? It was like that time you met a handsome man in park. You were walking with a friend when suddenly your friend pointed the man out.

“Isn’t he cute?” she asked you. You shrugged, but you couldn’t hide the small blush that crept up when he looked up and smiled at you.

The two of you kept walking and eventually she had to go somewhere else for a job interview. You ended up walking back home.

On the way, you looked at the bench that the stranger was on, and he was shockingly still there. There was even a pigeon that was attempting to sit on his head because of how still he was sitting.

“Is that a book you like?” you asked him. He looked up, almost as if he was awoken from a different realm.

“Ah, yes, I picked it up from an antique store,” he showed the book’s cover. It looked like it was about two hundred years old with how intricate the cover was. Not only that, but it looked like it belonged to a museum. “I only read the newer copies of it, but it’s a different feeling when reading the first edition.”

“The first edition?!” your eyes widened. How did he manage to get that? He must be a bookworm.

The two of you shared a nice conversation, but before he could leave, you asked him for his name.

“Ah, you don’t have to worry about that, my friends call me ‘boss’ though,” he replied. It was a strange answer, but it seemed fitting for someone who seemed, well, odd. You couldn’t read his expression at all, nor could you really guess where he was from.

“Alright then, I’ll see you later! I’m y/n by the way!” you waved at him.

The two of you would end up meeting at the park at the same time from there on. He was apparently preparing for a mission of some kind, and that was why he was staying in your city. You didn’t ask for details on what it meant, but you were still happy to get close to someone. Your friend even asked if the two of you were dating, to which you shook your head vigorously and said that you were just friends. But, you did wonder if perhaps he held some feelings for you. You definitely felt your heart race when thinking about spending time with him.

“And I won’t even get a date,” you huffed as you tried to get yourself comfortable in the piles of parchment. You gripped your handgun, ready for any slight movement. You were still in a state of zetsu, but you were ready to release nen right when the door opened.

But the door remained shut. It was a little strange. You waited for what felt like hours for anyone to come in. The air was stuffy with dust, it was getting too hot for you.

Right when you were about to check around the corner of the shelf you were hiding behind, a hand grabbed your hair and yanked you backwards.

You lost your grip on the handgun and your legs went flying up as you were thrown on someone’s back. You were screaming, telling them to let you go.

“Shut up, it’s too loud for a museum,” the person said. You recognized that voice. It was the enhancer from before.

How did he get in here so fast? Well, it was the Phantom Troupe. You should have known you were biting off more than you could chew.

You were thrown on the ground, and though you could attack you didn’t have the energy to lift an arm. It was over, your attempt was futile now that you were set in front of three troupe members. One of them could be the leader too, making it worse.

“A bounty hunter, I presume?” a calm voice said from right in front of you. You looked up, the face was still a bit blurry because of how much you were thrown around earlier. Blinking a few times, you tried to make out what he looked like.

The voice was eerily similar though.

“There’s no light in here, it’s not helping,” you said, trying to remain calm. He chuckled, then, taking a flashlight from his coat (he stole the one you dropped, what a bastard), he shined it on you.

The light blinded you for a moment, causing you to recoil. Then, he crouched down to see you eye for eye.

“Do you see me now, darling?” he asked. He sounded like he was trying to taunt you with that sickly sweet tone.

His voice was familiar.

“Are you the Phantom Troupe’s leader?” you asked, squinting through the light to see his face. Then, something made your stomach twist. It was a bad feeling, almost like you were seeing a ghost.

“Yes, that’s why my friends call me ‘boss,’ y/n,” he patted your head, almost like he was seeing a lover. It was making you sick.

“Y-you, you’re the one that I met-”

“Yes, I am, I wasn’t lying to you when I said I was on a mission did I? *Sigh* Bounty hunters, always missing crucial details because you all are blinded by money,” he responds. He looks over at his comrades.

“Nobu, I think we’re done here, let the others know we’re going back to the base now,” he said. You looked at the man in the topknot, the guy didn’t seem to like you. He gave you a gaze that made you feel like a bug.

“You’re gonna kill them?” the larger one, the one that threw you, asked the leader.

“No I won’t, I wasn’t planning to. Besides, they might hold good information, we’ll see what Feitan thinks as well, Uvo,” he responded calmly.

“We’ll see you soon then, Chrollo,” Nobu starts to walk away with Uvo. You keep your eyes glued on the man in front of you though, the man that went by the strange name “Chrollo.”

“Why keep me alive? I could kill you right now,” you said, trying to stand up but quickly being pushed back down by Chrollo.

“Like I said, you could be useful, not to mention I was going to take you on a date since the last time we met,” he caused your panic and your anger to suddenly die out.

What?

“A date?” you choked out, trying to hide a laugh. Was he serious? No, he had to be crazy. Who would ask a date after they had just stolen a valuable artifact and killed dozens of security forces?

“Why does that upset you? I thought we were pretty close,” he made a fake pout. The sweet act he was putting up was making you more angry.

“You’re a murderer, I’m not here to be your lover I’m here to serve justice!” you reply.

“Aw, a bounty hunter trying to teach a class-A criminal about morals, I appreciate the effort darling,” he patted your shoulder. Then, taking your hand, he yanked you up so the two of you were standing up. You never noticed the cross on his forehead, nor how beautiful his eyes were. He was looking at you so softly, not like he had just killed people a few minutes ago.

“But we should get going, the others are waiting for us, you know? You don’t want to miss your date now, do you?”

“I never agreed to go on a date, I’d rather be killed than spend my life with you,” you snapped.

“Oh? I don’t think I ‘asked’ to take you on a date, did I?” he smiled, almost like he was telling you that you were dumb. “Like you said, I am a thief, I can take whenever I want to,” he was so condescending. You looked around for anything to save you, but you couldn’t find any solutions. You couldn’t go out there again, not with the 3 billion Jenny that hung over your head and definitely not with the Phantom Troupe’s leader right in front of you. You couldn’t fight Chrollo either, he was definitely on a higher level of nen mastery than you were.

Shit.

Digging your fingers in your palms and biting your lip, you looked up at him and followed his lead.

“The necklace will suit you nicely my dear, I was imagining what it would be like around your neck since the last time we were together,” he looked back at you, you who was keeping your gaze glued to the floor.

The news broke that all remains of the security forces were scattered around the museum. There was blood painted on some of the art, especially ones that were regarded highly by the local officials.

The politician spoke to the public that day, telling the city and the world that he would make sure in his election to help keep things more safe. Yet, in the back of his mind, he knew that a bounty hunter had disappeared in the fight.

That same bounty hunter was sitting in a broken bed of an abandoned facility, tears staining their face as a necklace glittered around their neck.

#hxh #hunter x hunter #hxh x reader #hxh scenarios #hxh chrollo #hxh chrollo lucilfer #hxh chrollo x reader #hxh imagines #chrollo x reader #gn!reader #hxh phantom troupe #phantom troupe x reader

83 notes · View notes

un-unavoidableanxiousball · 1 month

Text

This one I wrote when I was 15 and posted on Wattpad as well. I also added some things while editing. I wonder what it says about my mental state that I could so easily get into that mindset... (T-T)

Masterlist

Letting Go

Rating: Mature

Characters: unnamed female character, mental voice,

Tags: venting, nature, heavy angst, depressive and suicidal thoughts as a mental voice, (heavily implied) character death,

! Warnings ! : suicide, s3lf-harm, depression, suicidal thoughts, description of blood, suicide attempt, self-doubt, low self-esteem, death, vomit, self-destructive behaviour

Word count: 1979

Read at your own discretion.

⚠︎⚠︎⚠︎⚠︎⚠︎⚠︎⚠︎⚠︎⚠︎☠︎︎⚠︎⚠︎⚠︎⚠︎⚠︎⚠︎⚠︎⚠︎⚠︎

Have you ever felt hopeless?

That kind of hopelessness which paralyzes you. Not your body — your mind. Or perhaps it's not even your mind, but your emotions. Brain producing or receiving the wrong chemicals — it's guesswork, never paid attention in biology class — to some it might be the soul that faulty.

Paralyzes you in such a way that no matter how many times or for how long your thoughts accuse you of wasting time, to move, be productive, improve! No matter the loudness and frequency of their unheard screams to others — you're stuck. Can't bring yourself to change, because why should you try to when there's billions of people on earth more worthy of the chance called life, everyone dies in the end. What do you put into the world, if human lifespan is so short yet too long as well and there were countless human before you and will be after you.

You're so paralyzed that if in moments of great emotions, you can't bring yourself to care. Can't find guilt after an argument, no anger nor embarrassment after being insulted, somehow no tears are visible when a close member dies and it's time to pay respects. Pleasure is unfound, because you don't know what should bring it. It's full resignation or numbness.

Ever felt like anything you would do just isn't enough for people around you? That no matter how hard you try, how much efford you put in — nobody seems to appreciate it? No visible pride in the people around you. Moreover some see those accomplishments as bare minimum; which hurts so deeply in your heart it can't get through the darkness and unstable walls.

Perhaps the times you accomplished something — something as simple like organising your desk or cleaning your room, eating a meal or just getting out of the wretched bed; damn it you were proud of yourself! You went to share your pride with someone, only to get lectured for not doing anything useful nor helpful for them? For slouching around, being an obstacle, a burden.

You feel more depressed in result. Close yourself off, escape the pesky problems, and whenever you've accomplished something again — you start to doubt if telling somebody else about it will ever bring positive outcome or worse you doubt yourself.

Day by day you re-think each and every action you're about to make to prevent yourself from getting more hurt than you already are.

One after another after another after ano—— and you don't care. You didn't even notice when you stopped caring. Seems like personalised masks became permanent. You have built walls so high to not be hurt as much and as strong as you've been before.

You can't find yourself enjoying the things you've liked or were told you did before. As if the little passion you had — had been drained from you, locked and wasted. Spoiled.

Yet somehow you managed to fake it all and lie to your friends, with a fake smile, a fake enthusiastic voice, fake opinions on whatever topic, which you probably weren't intresting in in any way or just didn't want to be excluded from the little group of friends you managed to have.

But even that loss it's 'spark'. Now, you distance yourself from them too, no matter how it pains you in the inside, no matter the childish voice inside you that tell you "Mama, mama help me, anyone,".

Because you want nothing more than to cry on their shoulder tell them anything and everything that bothers you and weights down on your very soul, to be hugged and feel loved; but you don't do it, won't do it in fear of being judged, laughed at or pushing them away with the state you're in.

No, you can't have that, can you?

Too many times were you ignored to not expect anything else to be the truth.

A certain girl definitely feels that way. She's come so far as to ignore all of her friends. But hey, it's not like they noticed or anything, she always was kind of distant. Introverts, right?

At the moment the girl was standing on a bridge. She's looking at the small river flowing by below her.

She comes to this place almost everyday whenever she feels like getting away from everything. She grew to love it here, the trees around gave great amount of shadow to hide from sun's rays on warmer days, the gentle wind calmed her down whenever she was stressed and the beautiful sound of the river flowing was calming as well.

She spent almost all day in here today.

Today was difficult for her, she couldn't bear it even though nothing bad happened to her. Nothing stands out. She did what she felt like - came to her safe zone to be alone. Of course she couldn't get rid of that voice which somehow made it's way in to her head and controls her heart.

While making her way to a tree to sit down under, she felt tears in her eyes as she heard the voice's mocking words.

"You're weak. You can't even embrace a little truth without taking it out on yourself." it whines, "No wonder you've no friends! Hahahaha—," the laughter continued, "You end up shoving them away to the basement, you starve them and then, and then, ha hahaha, you act surprised when your connections are long dead and starved!"

The girl was full on sobbing.

"Damn, what was it about a lover? Your dreams only. You're ugly. I mean look at yourself! How could you be pretty with those big disgusting cuts?"

"Plus you're lazy, you can't do anything right." it cackled, "I mean... they're such easy tasks, so... What makes you wonder that your Charming One wouldn't look down on you? You're no royalty.."

"Why are you so naive as to have unreachable and unrealistic dreams? I know!" a dramatic pause, "You're stupid."

She was wailing with her legs pressed against her chest. She couldn't stop herself from letting the tears out from her eyes as the voice continued.

"Nobody loves you, because you're useless. Can't you see? You're not good enough, you'll never be. They don't care about you. Why would they? You couldn't care less for them. You're an emotional mess. Not a grain of realness inside you. I pity them. Having to look at you is just painful. No wonder they avoid you."

The girl tried to calm herself but was unable to. Her body was shaking from her ugly sobs. Crying a river of tears, she tried to take deep breaths to maybe stabilise her shallow hiccuping breathing.

"You're such a crybaby. Can't you handle a simple truth?" It scoffed in her mind. "Wait I forgot, we already covered that. Your idiocy is contagious. Bleh."

After some time she succeed to calm down, mainly by beating her thighs repeatedly. Sobs were still escaping her chest every once in a while. She felt the itching on her arms, making it hard not to scratch or reach for her pocket knife in her bag.

"What? You're resisting this urge? Since when? You're not strong to keep it up. You always relive yourself this way, don't you know? Did you forget? Memory too short?" it cruelly went on, "You like the feeling of the blade on your skin and the pain it brings along. And the blood. Mmm. That delicious blood, running, dripping down your arms. There's always blood whenever you cut, don't you hate it? It's entertaining for me to see your disgust, the blood makes you want to throw up or pass out. Are we keeping count?" it intoned, "I'd be lying if I said I was surprised, but then again you're just some psycho who clearly doesn't know how to properly act like one!"

She could hear the sinister tone the voice has. Although it pains her greatly, it was right. She hated the sight of blood and yet she continues to harm herself. It really relived her. She knows it's not healthy nor anything positive. Yet she can't seem to stop.

She slowly rolled up the black sleeve of her hoodie. She put the knife to her arm.

Pressed.

She could feel the smirk, smug satisfaction in to the voice, and also her own satisfaction at the feeling of the blade cutting her skin. She created more cuts in places which weren't covered yet.

Trying to ignore the crimson red liquid flowing down her arm — to focus on anything else but fresh, leaking wounds. Taking deep breaths. No, no no nononono the smell — horrid, terrible — metalic stale.

In and out..

In—

She could practically feel the bole in her mouth. Focus elsewhere, c'mon...

Fresh air filled her lungs with each breath. Wind, chirping birds and slowly flowing river created a pleasant melody.

The water as a beautifully sounding base, the wind played the various instruments, grass, trees, bushes. Birds sang with different voices and tones, each special in their own way. If someone was to listen to the sounds, they most likely wouldn't hear those the same way or just ignore them seeing nothing special unlike her. She apriciates anything that's pretty, elegant, natural moreover can't cause her harm.

"Speaking of which, are you enjoying yourself, bitch? I'm confident you spacing out made a lot of good to those ugly wounds!"

It cackled when it felt her flinching at the mention of the name. Girl's eyes cousiously wandered to her left arm. Immediately she regreted doing so. Her face expressed disgust as she tried not to gag nor vomit at the sight.

Her arm was covered in so many scars now, not a single one of the older ones was visible. The cuts were different lengths, deepths, some were wider, others smaller, some placed horizontally, some vertically. To add more to this mess — the blood was everywhere now, the dirt, her hoodie, on her jeans.

Blood was all coming from the horrible cuts she made which made her even more nauseous.

Averting her eyes, she tried to focus on something else, yet she couldn't. The image haunted her mind, she couldn't block it off.

The girl started to gag, sweet acidic taste filled her mouth.

Abruptly she stood up, making it worse, trying to rush to the river. Her vision got more foggy and unclear as she moved forward. She stumbled on her feet, falling to her hands and knees. Not being really far away from the water she managed to reach it and as soon as she did that she threw up everything her stomach previously contained.

"You do know you can't do anything about your arm right? I mean... you could always add more. You're going to die anyway so what's the point? Bonus Points! — if you'll die here nobody will find you. You're all alone. Nobody cares about your well-being. Not that they care about your being at all..."

More tears continued to stream down her face as she listened to the voice. The pain coming from her arm is getting more unbearable by each passing second.

Her vision starts to fade as she tries to control her sobs, ignore the pain and block out the images of the blood and memories of her family and friends. She could hear the cruel laughter and continuous mocking of the voice but even it starts to quieten.

Being overwhelmed by hurtful sensations, she couldn't seem to feel her body. Her tears were silently from her brown eyes, praying for somebody to find her, to take care of her, to tell her everything will be okay.

But her prayers weren't answered, maybe they didn't reach anyone in the first place. As she was letting go, the darkness took care of her.

Nobody came. Proving to her about her meaninglessness.

"I'm sorry." A mere whisper left her lips.

...

#cross posted on wattpad #original work #original character #tw s3lf harm #tw sui attempt #tw depressing thoughts #reupload #heavy topics #heavy angst #rating: mature

2 notes · View notes

mommymlkrs · 1 year

Text

~ The Truth ~

PART 1

(I’ve had this saved as a draft for like ever and idk if I’m gonna write a part 2, sorry guys!😬)

~ Summary: Sam, Dean and Y/n find a new case in which the goddess of truth is looking for tributes. Dean and Y/n also investigate why Sam has been acting weird ever since he got back from hell while dealing with their own feelings.

~ Pairings: Dean Winchester x Fem Reader

~ Warnings: Swearing, mentions of suicide, fighting, angst, fluff.

Main characters include:

(Y/n) Reader

Dean Winchester

Sam Winchester

Castiel

*Based off of season 6 episode 6* *spoilers*

*:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*

“She said that? She really just told her sister to kill herself? Wow.” Y/n said with astonishment.

“Yep.” Both Dean and Y/n were sitting in the motel room trying to figure out this new found case they had. Suddenly the door opened and in walked Sam.

“There was another one.” Sam stated to the pair.

“Yeah? What?” Questioned Y/n as they both stood up from the bed.

“Dentist drilled a guy to death.”

“You mean the non-sexy kind of drilling. Right?” Dean poked in.

“Fifty bucks says he’s mixed up in all the crazy.” Sam continued ignoring Dean’s dumb question.

“You think?”

“Let’s go talk to him.” Sam gestured to the both of them.

“Why don’t you guys go ahead, I’ll catch up. I’m gonna do a little research.” Dean said to them.

“You sure?” Sam questioned suspiciously.

“Yeah, we gotta know what we’re up against. Right?”

“Yeah, yeah, good idea. Coming Y/n?”

“I’ll actually stick with Dean this time around, still gotta change my bandage. Meet you later?” Y/n replied wanting to know what’s up with Dean.

“Yeah, for sure.” Sam then walked out and shut the door. Dean turned away and rubbed his face.

“What’s up with you?” Questioned Y/n. Dean turned to face her.

“Nothin’.”

“Dean.” He knew she wouldn’t give it up so he sat on the bed and sighed.

“My skin crawls being in the same room as him. He hasn’t been the same since, Y/n.”

“Who? Sam?”

“Who else?”

“He seems fine to me. Maybe he’s just you know, growing into himself.” Y/n tries to come up with an explanation.

“I think he’s far past puberty Y/n. And you haven’t known him for 27 years like I have. I don’t know how much longer I can do this.” Dean looks down at his lap and fiddles with his beer. Y/n walks over to him and sits on the bed beside him to comfort him.

“If you think somethings wrong, I believe you. We’ll figure this out Dean.” Y/n says and he turns his head to look into her eyes smiling. Dean perks up feeing tense.

“Want me to change that bandage?”

“Yeah actually. Thank you.” She smiles at him.

After Dean wrapped her wrist, the ring of his cellphone made them jump from the break of silence and Dean picked it up. Once Sam’s and his conversation was over, Dean ended the call.

“Looks like we’re going to the dentist sweetheart.”

*:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*

After Y/n and Dean made their way to the dentist office they found some evidence of what the victims had in common. ‘Harry’s House of Horns.’ They found some names and went searching for answers.

“Jane and Dr. Conley. I heard, how awful. But what do I have to do with it?” Asked Harry.

“Honestly you’re the only thing they have in common.” Dean replied to the man.

“Did they say anything to you before they..” Y/n chimed in.

“Sorry, not really.” He said knowing what she was referring too.

“Okay. Thank you though.” She gave him a smile and Dean followed her out of the shop. Before they could leave the man hollered out.

“Hey, by the way. How about my horn?”

“Sorry?” Dean asked.

“Stolen horn?”

“Right. Yeah. We’re working on it.”

“Well I hope so. Things one in a billion.”

“What makes it one in a billion?” Y/n asked confused.

“It’s a museum piece. Near as anyone can tell, about a thousand years old.” Harry opened a book showing a picture and description of the ancient horn.

“Where’s it from?” Questioned Dean.

“No one knows.”

“When did it get swiped?”

“About two weeks ago. Same day Jane died.” He tried to recall. Both Y/n and Dean look at each other knowing somethings up.

*:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*

Back at the motel, the pair researched the horn finding out it is an angelic weapon. Dean grabbed his glass and shut the laptop, tossing it on the bed.

“You hear that Cas? Angelic weapon, kind of your department.” Dean said to no one in particular trying to summon Castiel.

“Dean. He hasn’t answered our calls in days.” As soon as she said it Cas decided to swoop in.

“Hello Y/n. Hello Dean.”

“Are you kidding me? I have been on red alert about Sam, and you come for some stupid horn?” Dean raised his voice at him.

“You asked me to be here and I came.”

“We’ve been asking you to be here for days! You dick.”

“Dean. Don’t you think Cas would’ve come if he had answers about Sam?” Y/n stood beside Dean trying to get through to him.

“You wouldn’t just ignore us for no reason. Would you Cas?” Y/n asked Cas calmly, keeping her trust in him.

“I have nothing to offer about Sam.”

“Well that’s great. Because for all we know, he’s gift wrap for Lucifer.” Dean states, obviously still pissed.

“No. He’s not Lucifer.”

“And how do you know that?” Dean questioned.

“If Lucifer escaped the cage. We’d feel it.”

“Do you know what’s wrong with Sam, Cas?” Y/n stepped closer.

“I don’t know Y/n. I’m sorry.”

“What happened to you Cas? You used to be human, or at least like one.” Dean looked hurt.

“I’m at war.” Cas turned away from them and sighed.

“Certain regrettable things are now required of me.” Cas says.

“And Gabriel’s ‘Horn of Truth’? That’s a real thing?” Dean asked.

“Seen it?” Cas asked them facing them again.

“We think it’s in town.” Y/n replied and Cas disappeared.

“Well. Your welcome!” Dean said sarcastically.

“It isn’t the ‘Horn of Truth’.” A voice came from behind them. The pair turned around to find Cas once again.

“You were gone like two seconds. Where did you look?”

“Everywhere.”

“Right. Well nice seeing you anyway.” Dean faced away from Cas.

“About Sam. I don’t know what’s wrong with him. But I do wanna help. I’ll make inquiries.” Cas faced Y/n but saying it to both of them.

“Thank you, Cas.” Y/n said sweetly and he disappeared once again. Y/n then faced Dean as he looked at the floor after putting his drink down. Y/n slowly walked over to Dean and put a hand on his cheek.

“Dean. He’s trying his best.” Dean raised his head and looked into her eyes. Dean looked at her lips and then her eyes again suddenly grabbing her face and kissing her. Y/n didn’t realize what was happening until a few moments later, she kissed him back for a split second before pulling away and putting her hands on his wrists.

“Dean. Dean. I- your drunk, your angry. You don’t know what you’re doing.” Y/n tried to reassure him.

“I know exactly what I’m doing Y/n. Something I should’ve done a long time ago.”

“Dean. I’m sorry but, no. I promise you, you’re not in your right mind right now. Can we just talk about this a different time?” Y/n felt bad for rejecting him. She has had a crush on Dean for what felt like forever but this was definitely not the time, and what if, with all the emotions going on in his head right now, he regrets it later? She wanted it to be at the right time.

“Uh yeah. Um I’m- I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking.” Dean turned around and poured himself another glass of liquor gulping it down.

“Dean. Don’t be mad. This just isn’t the right time for this.” Dean turned around at that.

“Why is everyone so scared of hurting my feelings lately? Is it so hard to ask for the freaking truth around here!?” Dean raised his voice at her.

“I’m sorry Dean. I- I’ve just been in love you for so long, I don’t wanna have this come up at such a shitty time, literally one of the worst times. Where Sam is acting like one of Lucifer’s spawns! And where you a- are being a piss angry dick drunk idiot!” Y/n started to yell at Dean not knowing where this came from. She definitely did not plan to tell him that, why did she even say that?

“Why’d I just say that? It’s definitely not like I daydream about you and your hands roaming my body every single day.” Y/n’s eyes go wide and so do Dean’s.

“Why did I just say that!?” Y/n slapped her hands over her mouth turning away from Dean, too embarrassed to face him.

“Uhm, great confession time Y/n.”

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean too.” She apologized.

“It’s alright. I think I know why you did.” Dean looked like a lightbulb went on in his head.

*:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*

Y/n and Dean made their way to meet Sam but Dean asked her to stay in the car while he talked to Sam for a minute, he wanted to try out his new ‘truth serum’. After finding out Sammy was fine and had not lied to Dean they all went back to the motel.

“So this was the chick’s pet?” Dean asked.

“Well, she was obsessed.” Sam replied.

“I think you mean crazy.”

“Alright so, cat skull. Grains of paradise seed. Devils shoestring. Mix them well, and you got yourself a summoning spell.”

“So, demon?” Y/n chimed in asking Sam.

“God. Corey was so desperate for the truth about her boyfriend’s cheating heart. She went digging around. Nothing panned out, so she went looking for a different kind of help.” Sam moved the laptop screen so Y/n and Dean could take a good look at it.

“Opened a door she couldn’t close.” Said Y/n.

“Yeah, and now anyone in town who asks aloud for ‘the truth’. Invokes Veritas. And she doesn’t just give it to you, she slams you with it. Till you kill yourself, and she gets her tribute.” Sam explained.

“So, all that tribute vanishing from the morgue. What do you think? A Soylent Green situation?”

“God’s gotta eat too. Which means we gotta take her out, or you’re on the menu.” Sam refers to Dean.

*:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*

Sam sat on one bed watching all the clips from a certain news lady with his earbuds in seeing if he could catch anything while Y/n sat on the other bed reading a book she had brought. Dean eventually hopped in the spot beside her making her put her book down.

“Listen, Y/n. About earlier.” Dean started.

“It’s fine Dean.” Y/n said not wanting to relive that embarrassing moment.

“No, it’s not. You were right, I was drunk and pissed at Sam and Cas. I shouldn’t have kissed you.”

“Although, it seemed like you daydream about a little more than that.” Dean smirked and Y/n’s cheeks went pink, she put her hands on her face trying to hide her smile.

“Hey check this out.” Sam took out his earbuds rewinding the footage back. Y/n and Dean made their way over to Sam. He pressed play on the video which was a news lady being interrupted by a barking dog in the background.

“Wait, zoom in on that.” Y/n spotted something. Sam zoomed in and the woman’s eyes were a bright glowing blue, definitely not normal. The 3 of them looked at each other.

*:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*

The 3 made their way inside the ‘news woman’s’ house, they were caught off guard by her and were roughly thrown across the room being knocked out.

After waking up with their wrists tied behind them to separate pillars, the woman in elegant clothing tore off the tongue of a dead man lying on the table beside her. She lifted the tongue to her face.

“The tongue is the tastiest part. It’s where the lies roll off.” She took a bite of it making satisfied sounds.

“I cannot wait to eat yours. I mean I’ve seen lies before, but you three? Gold standard.”

“Point of professional pride.” Dean said smiling.

“I wouldn’t be so cocky if I were you, Dean. You know what happens when you base your life on lies, right? The truth comes along and..” She doesn’t finish her sentence walking around the room.

“So, while you’ve still got your tongue. God knows you’ve gotten an earful. I think it’s your turn to spill some.” She bent down talking to Dean.

“How about we play a little Truth or Truth? What should we ask Dean first, hmm? Something personal about one of you?” She says looking between Y/n and Sam.

“Hey Dean. I’m curious. What do you really feel about your brother?”

“Better now. As of yesterday I wanted to kill him in his sleep.” Sam gave Dean a confused look.

“I thought he was a monster. But now I think..”

“Now you think what?” The woman asks.

“He’s just acting like me.”

“What do you mean?” She pushes.

“It’s the gig. You’re covered in blood till you’re in your own blood. Half the time you’re about to die. Like right now. I told myself I wanted out. That I wanted a family.” Y/n looks down at her lap at Dean’s words.

“But you were lying.”

“No. But what I’m good at is slicing throats. I ain’t a father, I’m a killer. And there’s no changing that, I know that now.”

“Dean..” Y/n had tears in her eyes. The woman stood up and walked around.

“So Sam walking back into your life must have been a relief as well as Y/n entering it. Hm? And how do you feel about joining the band? Y/n?” She crouched down beside her.

“I- I can’t really complain. They’re the only family I have left.” Y/n said sniffling her tears back.

“And, your feelings towards Dean? They don’t compromise that?” Sam looks at Y/n.

“I’ve gotten this far, haven’t I?” After that, Sam suddenly cuts in.

“Look lady, what we do is hard. But we watch out for each other. And that’s what’s important. And that’s it, that’s the truth.” She looks at him in disbelief.

“No. No. It’s not.”

“You said yourself. I can’t lie.” Says Sam as she gets up.

“How are you doing that?! That’s not possible. You’re lying to me!”

“No, I’m not!”

“What are you? What is he?!” She looks at Y/n and Dean for answers.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Sam replies.

“Really? I doubt that. I doubt anything that comes out of your mouth right now! You’re not human.” She says through gritted teeth.

“What?” Dean and Y/n say in unison.

“You guys didn’t know that? Now that I believe.” Suddenly Sam’s restraints snap and he lunges forward to punch her, they both fight as Dean and Y/n struggle to get their restraints off. Dean cuts his free with the knife given to him by Sam and goes to grab a weapon after he passed the knife to Y/n. As the woman is choking Sam, Dean hits her in the back but not well enough before Y/n stabs her in the chest after breaking free. Y/n twists the knife inside her and she falls the the ground. The 3 of them stand up out of breath but Dean brings his knife up in front of Sam.

“Dean? What’re you doing!?” Y/n asks.

“Dean, it’s me.” Sam reassures him after he ignored Y/n’s question.

“You are not my brother.”

“Just listen-“

“What are you?!” Dean yells.

“Dean stop!” Y/n tried to cut in.

“It’s me Dean!” Sam says as Dean steps closer to him.

“Look. Please. Just let me explain-“

“Why should I believe anything you say?”

“Okay okay, you want the truth? Here it is.” Dean slowly puts the knife down.

“She was right. There’s something wrong with me. Really wrong. I’ve known for awhile now. I’ve lied to you guys, yeah.. And I let you get turned by that vamp, because I knew there was a cure. And we needed in that nest! And I knew you could handle it!”

“Sam..” Y/n said his name with disappointment.

“Handle it?? I could have died!” Dean raged.

“And that should have stop me cold. But I- I just don’t feel it.”

“You what?”

“Ever since I came back. I am a better hunter than I have ever been! Nothing scared me anymore. Cause I can’t feel it- I don’t know.. What’s wrong with me. I think.. I need help.” Y/n looked at Sam with tears in her eyes. Dean just turned, put his knife down and turned back to Sam who let out a breath. Dean took a moment before lunging his fist at him making Sam fall the the floor until Dean picked him back up by his shirt punching him again and again and again.

“DEAN! STOP, PLEASE.” Y/n screamed at Dean scared he would go too far. After a few more punches Dean backed off leaving Sam’s face unrecognizable with all the blood and his lifeless body just lying there.

“Dean..” She looked at him with hurt in her eyes until she turned to aid to Sammy.

14 notes · View notes

minniecostello · 5 months

Text

Zero-G

This is a story I've been sitting on for a while but I'm ready to share it.

Summary: two lovers find time to enjoy their off shift aboard a space station in a distant star system. They take advantage of the low gravity environment to explore an antique power dynamic.

Notes: this is silly, kinky t4t smut, heavily interspersed with world building for an anarcho-futurist sci-fi setting I use in other stories.

Jules floated by themselves near the transparent dome of the OSS Lina Stern's dorsal observatory. They had just gotten off a very long shift, and the station coordinator was taking their first free moment in 60 kiloseconds to bathe in the light of the alien star. Even though Jules had spent nearly half a billion seconds on ships and stations hundreds of lightyears from their home system, the color of whatever local star they orbited always seemed odd; the OSS Lina Stern was currently orbiting the second planet orbiting around both stars in a binary system, and the way the light of the blue star filtered through the gas cloud that was just a few light seconds closer in than their station always looked a little sickly to Jules. But despite the odd coloration, sunbathing under any star always soothed them.

This particular observation deck was Jules' favorite, partly because it almost always had a good view of the larger red star, but mostly because, in addition to being one of the few rooms in the station where the simulated gravity could be turned off, it was the least used observatory. Far from the crew quarters, and lacking most of the scientific equipment needed by this particular deep space mission, most of the station's inhabitants had little reason to spend time there. Jules often thought of it as their own inner sanctum, a private place for them to think and relax

That's why the tinkling door chime startled them so much they lost their balance and got sent tumbling across the empty space to gently thump against the expansive window.

Untangling their limbs, they shouted, "Come in," across the room to whomever it was that interrupted their quiet meditation. Jules heard the rushing air sound of the door opening and closing, and they saw the red-headed pilot Raysa pushing off from the door frame with her legs, correcting her vector with a quick burst of compressed air from a tube connected to a small canister on her leg, and landing softly next to them on the dome.

"You seem to be having trouble with the gravity here, Cap'n." Raysa said, offering a hand to help the struggling enby put their limbs in the proper place and get control over their spin.

"Captain? What do you think this is, a pirate ship sailing the high seas, going off to steal Spanish gold?" Jules asked the newcomer, poking fun at her antique language. The role of ship's captain hadn't been filled by anyone in generations, Shift Facilitators untangled that kind of hierarchic bullshit. But Jules might've been the closest thing there was to a modern ‘captain’, coordinating resources and operations on the station.

"Are you really gonna make it that easy for me? You're practically begging for a 'pirate's booty' joke." Jules swatted Raysa's hand away before she pinched their bottom.

"And you're just asking to walk the plank." Jules gave Raysa a playful hip check that sent Jules floating away from the dome on a somewhat uncontrolled vector, then Raysa pushed off to follow them. Jules called out, "Do you have another one of those canisters? I lost my grip on my tether when you came in."

"I wondered what that cord was for,” Raysa reached them. “Why didn't you take a canister when you came in?"

"I usually don't need them, the cord gets the job done well enough, and I don't usually have to move around that much."

"OK, here's a better question: what were you doing here in the first place?"

Jules and Raysa came to a stop with a burst from Raysa's air canister and curled up, almost like they were sitting, as they floated in the 0-gravity.

"I like to come here to get away sometimes, especially after a long shift."

Cocking an eyebrow, Raysa asked, "Get away? From who?"

"People. It can be draining, coordinating a whole station. I'm just glad it's not a transport hub."

"Aww, you weren't trying to get away from me now, where you?" Raysa pouted a little when she asked this, putting emphasis on the word 'me' by raising her voice half an octave.

"Were you asking for anything at all during the last forty five k-secs? If so, then yes." Jules slumped their shoulders and put their head in Raysa's lap. It doesn't escape their notice that Raysa's jumpsuit is a little lower than it was when she floated in.

"I might've, but Jules," Raysa put her hand on their chest and looked into their eyes. "You weren't trying to get away from me, were you?" This time, Raysa's voice dropped an octave when she emphasized the word. Before Jules responded, Raysa's hand moved to slowly unzip the front of Jules' off-duty jump suit, exposing their soft, brown skin.

Jules' mouth made a small 'o' shape when they realized what Raysa meant before they stuttered over their words, "N... no, ma'am... I... I'd never..."

"Of course you wouldn't, because you know how upset that'd make me, and you don't want that, do you... Captain?" Raysa slipped a hand under the Operations Green top they were wearing and started tracing delicate swirls along Jules' skin with the tips of her fingers, moving slowly along their chest. Shudders went down Jules' back whenever she grazed one of their sensitive, rapidly hardening nipples.

"I wouldn't dream of it, ma'am." Jules stared up into Raysa's face, into her eyes, and they could see a change; Raysa was always so gentle and kind, her gaze soft, except when she took Jules for herself.

Hierarchies had been abolished generations ago. No one person had any authority over another, except when one was clearly more well versed on a subject, like a scientist teaching a course to students. The scientist had information, and was granted the deference and respect they'd earned for their work in the field, but that gave them no special privileges over their students. Even on a ship, where it was once that the ship's captain had absolute authority to command the ship as they willed, now major decisions were made by the crew as a whole, or by an elected council, and day-to-day operations were orchestrated by a coordinator, who had no inherent power over anyone else, they were often simply skilled at organizing large operations. But even though society had moved past the conflict and violence of vertical hierarchy, in a world where everyone is equal to everyone else, some things are more primal. Some things, like the way Raysa looked at Jules in the dorsal observatory of the OSS Lina Stern.

That look, the lizard-brain possessiveness was plainly visible in the redhead's eyes, and was all Jules needed to get over their tiredness from their long shift. Jules moaned softly as Raysa's hanging chest brushed against their face as she leaned forward to unzip their jumpsuit down to the waist, just above Jules' groin, where they could feel their underpants moisten.

Jules tried to give Raysa's bosom gentle kisses as she moved back into a sitting position, but when she felt the touch of their lips through the fabric of her own jumpsuit, she sat up quickly, pinching hard on the dark brown nipple she was gently caressing a moment ago. “Not until I tell you to, Mine.”

After a moment, she releases her hold. "I know you only wanted to show your devotion though, didn't you?"

"Of course, ma'am, just to serve you."

Jules felt a slight pressure in the back of their head as Raysa looked hungrily down their body, their slight build, the delicate bump between their legs. Being objectified was an odd feeling for Jules; the exploitative pornography from Before had been relegated to very specific history books, and it was rare for someone to be appraised the way Raysa was appraising them.

"You may get your chance to do just that, Mine. But first, I need to get ready." Raysa pushed her submissive out of her lap and released a jet of air, propelling her to the wall by the door. "I had been planning something for you that used this room, and it was a stroke of luck that you were here waiting for me." Raysa picked up a bag that she had left by the door.

Jules spun around by flailing their arms, trying to ‘swim’ through the air. Seeing Raysa launch herself towards them, they asked, "What's in the bag, Love?"

"Oh, just something I had requisitioned a few dozen k-secs ago." Raysa's rye smile evoked a scowl from her sub. Jules was about to make a comment to protest being teased, but before they could form the words, Raysa's lips were pressed against theirs, her left hand pulling them deeper into the kiss. Closing their eyes, they lost all thoughts of protest. Feeling their Mistress's tongue explore their mouth, feeling her hand run through their short hair, biting their lip as she pulled away, several other thoughts were lost as well.

When Raysa's teeth released their bottom lip, a shudder went through Jules’ body, and Jules floated limply in her arms. The force of Raysa's push from the wall had made the pair rotate slowly, such that when she pulled away, all Jules could see was the blazing halo of the red star shining through Raysa's long red hair, pulled free from its binding, floating out like tongues of fire in the 0-g.

"Now are you going to do only what I tell you from now on, Mine?" Awestruck by the view, and still numb from the kiss, Jules could only nod. Raysa's hand caressed down Jules face until her palm rested on their cheek. She gently opened their lips with a thumb and pushed it inside, encouraging them to suck on it, to get their lips ready for when they would have to part for more sensitive parts of her body. Jules knew this was what she was doing, and they loved it. They let out a deep, pleasured moan as her thumb began thrusting in and out. "That's good to hear." Raysa pulled her thumb out and down, pulling Jules mouth open by their lower lip and leaned in to kiss them again before floating gently away with a puff of air that just reached Jules' chest and made their nipples perk up again.

"Take off the rest of your jumpsuit." Raysa jetted behind her already half-naked enby so she could take out whatever she had in her bag unseen. Jules shot a concerned look at the unlocked door, afraid that someone might walk in on the pair engaged in private-quarters-only activities, but quickly looked away and started to slowly remove the jumpsuit from their legs, sticking their ass out the way they knew Raysa liked; however it was too late, Raysa saw the concern in their movements. "Aww, are you worried that someone will walk in and catch us fucking? It's not like people don't know, we share a suite."

"I'm worried people will see us, because all of the details of our sex life don't need to be known."

"Do you think anyone will think less of you for being a sub? What, did we travel back to the 20th century?" Raysa stuck out her tongue and flew over to the door to enter the command to lock the door. "I know exhibition is a hard line, don't worry. I requested the room be assigned private to us for a bit anyway, no one's coming." Raysa pushed off to give Jules a flyby kiss on the cheek.

"Unless you let me," Jules smiled weakly, and Raysa groaned loudly.

"Bring your ass over here, I need to punish you for that." Obediently, the underwear-clad Jules bent themselves to present their bottom as best they could. Floating over to them, Raysa wrapped her left arm around the small waist of their sub and pulled them close. Raysa let out a small grunt of appreciation as she took a handful of buttock in her right hand before pulling back and slapping hard enough to elicit a yelp from Jules, who thought they had steeled themself for the blow but clearly didn't realize how hard Raysa was going to hit them.

Raysa put her fingers against the warm, moist bottom of Jules’ underwear, getting more surface of the fabric wet. She pushed a finger deeper, spreading open their labia, getting Jules even hotter than they were already. Raysa pulled her finger out, leaving a bit of the fabric still inside, and pulled her hand back and delivered another sharp smack to their bottom, this time on the other cheek, eliciting another yelp.

"That will teach you to pun. Now let's get these off you," Raysa slipped three fingers under the elastic waistband and quickly pulled the dampened underpants over their rear end then with less speed down their legs. Letting go and floating slightly away, Raysa enjoyed the sight of the now fully-naked enby. Their light brown skin was mostly smooth, with a small tuft of curly black hair between their firm pectoral muscles. Jules was very clearly aroused, and Raysa thinking about what she would do with that arousal brought a warmth to her own groin, like she knew Jules felt. Jetting around behind Jules, Raysa got a good view of their ass, tight as the rest of their body, it practically called out to be grabbed and held and squeezed and smacked and bit. She would have all the time she wanted with them. With this beautiful person who was Hers.

The idea that someone could own another being was beyond archaic. It was like the idea of eating another being, knowing that it could feel pain. The idea that someone could own a human was the most aggressively fought against ideas during the first wave of the revolution, soon followed by the idea of owning any being no matter the species. Generations and generations of people lived in a world where knowing that owning a person was disgusting and impossible was as common as knowing that humans need oxygen to live. But that didn't change the way they both felt in the observatory. It was odd to feel a sense of ownership over a person, but nonetheless, right at that moment, both Raysa and Jules had the feeling, no the knowledge, that Jules belonged to Raysa, that they were hers in mind and body, and the two of them were both ecstatic about that.

“Do you trust me, Jules?” Raysa was floating right behind them, putting her hands on their waist, and slowly pulled them in different directions along their torso as she waited for a response.

“Of course Raysa, you know that.” Jules always felt comfortable and safe in their mistress’ arms. The feeling of her breasts against them, her hard nipples poking them through her jumpsuit, all served to get them more excited for what she had in store.

“And you'll do whatever I say?” Raysa's right hand that had reached down between Jules’ legs started tenderly stroking their lips.

Jules could feel themself getting wetter as one of Raysa's fingers pushed its way inside them, causing them to let out an extended moan. “Mmm, always, mistress.”

Raysa kissed Jules on the cheek and slowly pulled out her finger. She stuck her tongue out so that Jules could see it in the faint reflection of the two of them in the dome when she sucked her finger clean, then wiped it on Jules’ pubic hair, then reached out to grab something floating by them. “Then I want you to hold still, Mine.” Raysa grabbed their left arm in one hand and started to wrap it in a length of rope, what she must've pulled out of her bag. She caught their right leg in another loop of rope and easily tied the limbs together. Jules had maybe a dozen centimeters between their hand and foot. They moved their other hand behind their back and bent their leg in anticipation of Raysa's wishes. She pulled another rope from the air around them and looped it around Jules’ wrist and ankle and tied the new knot to the first one she tied. Jules felt a brief burst of panic when they realized they could be hurt if they were sent floating a little too fast into a wall, but quickly put that thought out of their mind, knowing Raysa wouldn't let that happen. They were her responsibility when she made them so vulnerable, and she always took good care of them. Then, after getting over the fear of injury, their helplessness turned them on, far more than they had been even when Raysa started to fill them with her fingers.

A smile crept across Raysa’s soft, round face when she tugged gently on the handle she made in the rope tying the deliciously exposed Jules, making sure they were bound tightly. She was briefly tempted to skip the period of teasing she had planned, but knew that by making them both wait, she would make the feeling of release so much better for her and Jules. Especially for Jules, who would soon be reduced to her quivering fucktoy by the waiting they would have to endure. “How does that feel, Mine? Not too tight?”

“No, ma'am, not at all.” Jules flexed their hands and feet to show they weren't losing circulation anywhere.

“Are you ready for the next part of your outfit?” Unsure of what to expect, Jules simply responded “yes, ma'am” to the open space in front of them.

After reaching out to the bag for a third time, Raysa grabbed the sides of Jules’ head from the back, kissed the top of their head, and slipped a blindfold over their eyes, shutting out all of the light from their eyes. Not a single photon got through the mask that was perfectly molded to fit over Jules’ eyes and top of their nose. Nothing, not the artificial light of the observatory wall lamps or the light of a single star a thousand light years away reached their retinas. Jules could hear their mistress’ breathing, feel the warmth radiating from her soft body, and… was that perfume? How far in advance did Raysa prepare? The dramatic loss of their sight made Jules’ breath quicken and their pulse raced, but the warmth of Raysa's body was reassuring. They had tried sensory deprivation before, but this was different. Before, they were tied to a bed, or allowed to stand, once they were even left floating in a pool of water at a private kink club on Earth. Either way, they couldn’t feel which way was down and how balanced they were. Normally, the lack of gravity was a calming sensation for Jules. But the combination of not being able to see anything and not having any reference point for their inner ear made Jules feel scared and euphoric, almost like the first time they smoked pot, on Mars with a group of Robinsonists. That was also the first night they met Raysa, and the first night they had ever been tied up…

After a brief pause, Raysa asked, “Can you tell me which way you are facing?”

“I think I was facing the dome before, and I don't think I've moved that much, so still the stars?”

“You have an annoyingly good sense of direction. Let's see,” Raysa started to roll them in the air, “If we can fix that. Now where are you facing?”

“If I'm lucky, that warmth by my face is your breath and not a far--” Raysa cut Jules off by pushing their forehead hard enough to send them spinning, and left them to spin along two axes for a little too long before grabbing their shoulders to stop them. “Now I'm dizzy and lost. Is that what you were going for?”

“Yes, it was. Now I'm going to let you float for a little bit. In silence. You remember the safe-gesture for when you can’t talk?” Jules responded by extending her thumb, index and pinky fingers. “Very good. Now I’ll leave you in your silence.”

Jules opened their mouth and was about to ask why they needed the gesture instead of the safeword when Raysa took the opportunity their open mouth provided to put something hard in their mouth. So that was why they needed it. Jules pushed their tongue forward to feel their gag; it was a ball gag. And it wasn’t the small one. Raysa fastened the gag’s strap around their head and whispered into their ear “Good job, Mine. I know this one isn’t always easy to get on.” Raysa kissed their cheek and pushed away.

The last thing Jules heard was the hiss of air from Raysa's air hose as she jetted away. And after that, they were alone in space. Floating adrift in zero gravity, completely helpless and unprotected. They set the observatory to be a few degrees cooler than the station ambient when they went in right after their shift, and now they were vaguely regretting that. Without the protection of their uniform, the cold enveloped them. Their nipples, already hard from arousal, grew even harder in the cold and goosebumps started growing on their skin.

As they floated, it got harder to keep track of time. If they were standing, they could at least figure out how long it had been by their legs getting tired, but now, floating in that absolute darkness, barely even spinning, there was no way to tell how long it had been. Hell, they had no way of knowing if Raysa was even still there. She wouldn't abandon them like this, would they? She could be cruel, but never like that; it was always the fun kind, the kind that involved ropes and sometimes that antique riding crop. No, Raysa was still in the room. Of course, that was only speculation, there was no way to be sure. They could start making noise, but Mistress had said they should be silent, and Jules didn't want to disobey her. She made a point of demanding silence when she wanted it, gag or no.

But what if no one was there?

No. Mistress was there. The only problem was how long had they been tied up? And how much longer would she want them to float?

The cold felt like it was getting worse. Was Raysa turning down the heat? Oh shit was she directing cold air at them? It felt like they were moving slightly. A very slight rotation from the air current until… oh… Jules couldn’t help but gasp. That little air current hadn't been moving Jules themself, it had been moving around them. It had been moving until it was pointed directly at their clit. Raysa clearly wanted to do more than wait. Jules could feel themself getting wetter. They could feel themself getting wet enough that it felt like it was starting to pull away from them in the 0-g. Wait, that might be dangerous, what equipment got left out? It was probably nothing to worry about, Raysa knew how to keep a space clean.

Now, finally, they had some external way to tell the passage of time. It wasn't much, but the constant stream of cold air blowing onto their pussy helped a lot; they never reached climax from the air, but they had spent a lot of their time tied up with Raysa being edged. They had learned to time the waves of approaching orgasm -- once, Raysa even suspended them in front of a chrono projection while she edged them, as if she was trying to train them to be able to time their orgasms. Maybe that's what she had been doing…

Time passed, and the constant flow of air was Jules’ only external input. They had no idea how long they had the cold air blowing on their clit, constantly teasing them in its consistency. After an unknown period of time, there was finally a change: the air started to move. It was just a few degrees, but Jules could tell the air was coming from a different direction. Then the air started to rotate ever so slightly around their vulva, blowing along their lips, just brushing their rear, then back down the other side, resting on their clit at the end of a cycle. It would've been a great way to tell time, if only it had been consistent in its rotational period. The air’s circuit around their groin was never the same speed twice, and eventually the simulation overwhelmed Jules and they had to put it aside in their mind, but it could never go so far as to not elicit a quiet whimper every time it blew harder on their clit.

What seemed like it must have been a hundred kiloseconds had passed before Jules felt a change in their external stimuli. They had tried to keep track of time with the feeling of the air, but eventually they lost count and resigned themself to floating, enveloped by the feeling of inching towards an explosive orgasm. But Raysa hadn’t said they were allowed to cum, they realized. Fuck. It wasn’t a matter of arousal, but permission. Shit. How could they have almost forgotten? Now they weren’t sure they could cum even if Raysa put her whole damn forearm inside them, past her elbow.

More time passed. Jules definitely had no idea how long they had been floating. They could feel a bit of drool falling out of their mouth past the gag, but that had been the only big change since the air started. At one point it started to get warmer and Jules thought it was Raysa coming towards them, but then the air got much colder and they had to stop themself from whimpering at the rapid change. Their thighs were thoroughly soaked, and Jules started to wonder what Raysa had planned.

Suddenly, the air cut off and Jules felt a warm presence in front of them. “Are you enjoying yourself, Mine?” Raysa patted Jules’ chin with a cloth hankie, wiping away their drool. Was she going to take off their gag? Or were they supposed to answer with it still in? Or did she forget it was there? Jules started to make a sound before Raysa realized her mistake, chuckled, then reached her hands around Jules’ head to undo the gag. As she did, she pressed her chest against Jules face and they could feel that she had started to unzip her jumpsuit; they felt the cold, hard zipper against their chin and the warm, soft skin of her breasts against their cheeks. She pulled them up, took out the gag, and wiped their mouth with her hankie. “Whoops. Now that you can talk, are you enjoying yourself, Mine?”

What Jules tried to say was “yes, mistress,” but what came out of their mouth was closer to “mehmlbessess,” followed by “uesmblmlm.” Their throat, sore from 60 ksecs of shouting down corridors to engineers who kept forgetting that they couldn't use the Stern’s comm system when updating said system, and their jaw, numb from being forced open with a gag for what was closer to one and a half kiloseconds, would not cooperate with their attempts to form words. After a few more attempts at forming words that only resulted in nonsensical syllables that only succeeded at making Raysa laugh, Jules just nodded.

Raysa kissed them on the forehead then asked, “so tell me, what do you think we're going to do next?” Jules shook their head and grunted “mm-mm.” They knew Mistress was just teasing them, and they weren't going to give her the satisfaction.

“Aww, you're gonna play that game, are you? Why not just tell me what you think is gonna happen?” Jules just shook their head; their mouth was still too numb and they knew it. “Well that's too bad. Maybe we should just leave the fun where it's at?” At this, Jules started to shake their head quickly back and forth, trying to say “no,” getting the syllable right a few times.

“Well then, I guess we'll have to figure out what's next, won't we?” Jules nodded excitedly at this, and looked where they thought Raysa was floating. “Since you won't talk, I guess I'll have to list what could happen and see if you think that's what will. Do you think… that I'm going to tickle you?” Jules shook their head.

Floating around Jules with a soft air burst, Raysa stopped with her left hand resting on her sub’s thigh, the other the small of their back. “Do you think I'm going to slap your ass until it's red?” Raysa pinched their rear end, causing Jules to jump and grunt “uh-uh.” They smacked their lips and stuck out their tongue in an attempt to reset their voice. “No.”

“Oh you're talking to me again. So tell me then Mine, do you think I'm going to run my hands all over your body?” Raysa slowly moved her right hand from Jules’ bottom up their back, caressing their smooth skin.

Jules sighed with pleasure, “Mmmmaybe.”

“Where would my hands be going? Up or down?”

“Up.”

“Good guessing so far, Mine. You just spent the last kilosecond having fun with the drone between your legs, I can't have you getting too tired out.” Jules felt their mistress’ hands trace the contours of their body. The hand on their back crept along their spine, the hand on their thigh went to their other side and rubbed along their belly. Raysa's grip wasn't strong enough to push them in the low gravity, but they could tell Raysa was moving towards their head. Was she upside down? The way her hands were moving, it felt like her face was floating towards theirs, but of course there was no real way to know unless Mistress took off their blindfold.

As Jules tried to orient themself to Mistress’ movements, Raysa kept moving her hands along their body. Gently scratching their back with one hand, caressing around their belly button with the other. The pressure on their back lifted for a moment when Raysa couldn't move her hand any higher because of how she tied Jules arms behind their back, but quickly returned to their task of exploring their body. Her hands moved higher, one between their shoulder blades, the other tracing patterns on their chest. Feeling Raysa's hands on their flat chest, Jules couldn't help but imagine what Raysa's far more ample bosom would look when she took off her jumpsuit. Her breasts would definitely float in the 0-g; the real question is, would the sight be sexy or comedic? Maybe Raysa would take off their blindfold to let them see, even if they wouldn't be allowed to caress her body like she was doing to them.

“So, Mine, what do you think is going to happen next?” Pulled out of their reverie, Jules let out a squeak when Raysa's gentle caressing of their chest turned into a very sharp pinch around one very erect nipple. “Do you think I'm going to keep pulling on you like this?” Raysa yawed, moving her hand from one nipple to the other, and her hand from their back to the one she just released. “Do you think I'm going to keep pulling on your tits like this?” Jules started to breathe faster. They let out a cry when Raysa pinched her fingers even harder. Eventually they managed to say “no mistress!”

Immediately, the pressure released. “Oh, well why didn't you say so sooner?” Jules gaped, open-mouthed at their mistress. “Well I guess we'd better keep figuring out what's going to happen next, right Mine? So… Do you think I'm going to untie you now?”

“No, mistress.” Jules hoped that wasn't the end.

“Then, do you think I'm going to kiss you now?”

“Yes I do, mistress.” Jules’ lips parted slightly in anticipation.

“Where? Am I going to kiss your pussy? Or am I just going to eat it? It is quite close to my face.” Before Jules had a chance to respond, they felt the warmth of Raysa's lips pressing softly against their pubic mound.

“No, I don't think you'll kiss me there.”

“Then am I going to spend the time kissing your belly?” Again before Jules could respond, Raysa kissed them, pressing her lips softly against their belly button. Jules shimmied against their restraints at the sensation, it felt good despite the way it tickled them. “Is that a ‘yes, I do think you’ll keep kissing my belly’?”

“It might be.”

“I guess you'll have to wait and find out, won't you?” Raysa kissed Jules’ belly again, just above their belly button. Then again, she kissed them just above the last kiss. And again, and again and again. She kept kissing them higher and higher along the peach fuzz of happy trail until she started moving her kisses to the right, pressing her lips against their chest, making slow work towards one of their nipples. As her kisses reached beneath their breast, Jules felt her tongue trace against their skin. The air felt cooler along their breast as Raysa moved closer and closer and the feeling of her tongue was heaven. Jules moaned when Raysa wrapped her lips on their pert nipple and closed her teeth around it. She pulled at their nipple when she moved her head away, letting go before she pulled too hard.

“Is that what you thought was going to happen, Mine?”

“I hoped it was, Raysa.”

“Now do you think I'm going to keep kissing you? Maybe you think I'll be symmetrical?”

“What happens if I'm wrong?”

“Gentle mockery, and tickling.”

“Then I really hope you're going to be symmetrical.”

“That's too bad! And you had been doing so well up until now.” Jules cried out in dismay, which caused Raysa to laugh. “I was only joking, silly. This is just a game, you won't get punished for that.” Jules let out a sigh of relief. “You were still wrong, though.” Raysa pressed her lips back to Jules’ chest. She kept kissing her sub, moving higher along their chest. They bristled as Raysa bent the small hairs on their chest the wrong direction with her nose.

She moved higher, and nibbled on their collarbone when her route took her there. Raysa's hands traced up Jules’ sides and held them closer when she moved to kiss their neck. Jules let out a moan when she kissed them, and let out a high-pitched whine when her teeth pressed against their skin. With one hand, Raysa pushed Jules’ head back and began to kiss and suck on their throat. They couldn't hold back a scream of delight when Raysa's teeth pressed into their neck while she started to suck with her lips.

“Oh mistress please I can't take this any more,” Jules begged. They were getting wetter and they could feel their pussy exposed to the air, begging for the fucking of their life. Hell, they would probably squirt if they felt their ass spread open.

Raysa pulled away from their neck with a pop. She pulled closer to their head and whispered in their ease, “Do you think that's what's gonna happen next, Mine? After all that time kissing your tight body, I'll just stop after one hickey before plowing you? Is that your guess?”

Jules started to squirm. Fuck, Raysa definitely gave them a hickey. They wondered how big it was. “No ma'am, but maybe you'll let me cum soon anyway?”

“I don't think I will, Mine. You're not prepared yet.”

“What do I need to do, Mistress?”

“When was the last time I only gave you one hickey?” Raysa moved her head again and wrapped her lips around another part of Jules’ neck and started to suck and nibble before pulling away again with another pop. Jules felt Raysa shake with laughter as she put her lips down again to give them a third hickey. This time, Jules felt a hand creeping down their side, around their thigh, and slowly begin to stroke their pussy. Another pop. “Time to guess again. What's next?” Jules had no response but to breathe faster. Another pop. “Am I going to fuck you soon?” Another pop. “Am I going to let you suck my cock first?” Kiss. Pop. Jules lost count of the number of hickeys Raysa had given them so far. “Do you even want me to fuck you?” Raysa moved to kiss Jules right below their ear. Another hickey. “Or could you cum just from this?” Under their chin. “This is what really gets you off, isn't it?” On their collarbone. “Next time you ask me to eat you out I'll just do this.” Further down their collarbone, another kiss. Jules let out a moan. Raysa moved her lips along their neck, leaving another mark. Was it worse that they would have to go back on shift in the next cycle covered in hickeys, or that they didn’t care? Her head moved, but this time she bit them instead of sucking on their skin. “What gets you hotter, Mine?” Raysa moved again, another kiss, another pop. “Is it the kisses that turn you on, or the hickeys?” Another kiss, longer, her teeth grasping their skin and releasing, her lips bunching their skin then pushing it back into place. She moaned into this kiss, and kept moaning until she made the loudest pop yet. Jules let out a whimper. “Oh, it’s definitely the hickeys that gets you.” What did their neck look like? How much of it was covered in hickeys? “But is it just getting the hickeys, or is it knowing that when I’m done with you,” another kiss on their collar bone, “when I’m done with you, you’ll have to walk down the corridor next to me with your neck covered in bruises?” They were starting to lose track of where she was. “Oh, you’re such an exhibitionist.” Raysa nibbled on their earlobe. “Sure, you don’t want anyone to see you riding my shmeckle.” Her tongue glided along their ear. “But you want everyone to know that you had sex. You want everyone to know you like being used, don't you?” Raysa finally moved to kiss their lips. It was so brief, Jules whimpered when her lips moved away. “You want everyone to know how much you enjoy being used by me.”

Raysa’s fingers started to stroke between their thighs. Her fingers were moist from her attention to their sex, and now she was spreading the little bit of moisture around, leaving no spot in their crotch dry. “I’m looking forward to showing you off once I’m done with you once we’re all done. We’re gonna walk down the hall with your head held high, showing off your pretty neck.” Another kiss pop. “I’m not done with you yet, of course. I’ve still got to get my dick wet, don’t I, Mine?” Her tongue moved along their jaw. “Or at least, you’ve got to get it wet.” Another kiss -- didn’t she give them a hickey there already? “I’m gonna fuck you senseless, but after covering your neck like this, it’d be a shame not to give your mouth some attention, wouldn't it?” Fingers not preoccupied lower on their body traced delicately along their bruised throat, “after I’m done with you up here, I’m gonna make you scream my name, Mine.” Kiss pop. "But this should hold you over until I want to use this shpiln zakh,” Raysa pushed two fingers into Jules, “won't it? You're wetter than the Europan ice. This is all I have to do to keep you wet and ready, isn't it?” Kiss pop on the nape of their neck. “Because this is all you need, isn't it, Mine?” Jules' face was burning. Their breath rapid and their lower body tightening as they tried to keep an orgasm at bay.

Then the warmth of her breath faded, her head must have moved away.

“Now Mine, what do you think is gonna happen next?”

Jules was silent. Even if they had something to say they couldn't form the words.

“Are you going to suck my cock now?” Jules nodded numbly. “Open your mouth, Mine.” Jules did as they were told, and they felt Raysa's thumb press against their tongue. They closed their lips and started to suck, moving their tongue around the finger that Raysa moved in and out of their mouth. They heard the sound of Raysa's jumpsuit getting unzipped and wished that they could see the beautiful sight that is Raysa's naked body; her full breasts, her nipples, wrinkled and hard with arousal; her soft, smooth, slightly rounded belly; her ample, inviting hips, curved in such a perfect way; her throbbing womanhood, cut, smooth, perfect. She was smaller than some other partners they'd slept with, but Raysa's cock was a work of art. Especially because she knew how to use it. Jules wished they could see it, but they'd settle for tasting it. Her thumb pulled Jules’ mouth open and moved away, her hand moving to their hair. “You ready, Mine?” Jules nodded again, licking their lips. They knew it was time for their favorite hand signals: one for “yes,” two for “no,” three for “I wanna choke on your cock.” Pressure on the back of their head as she pulled them close, as she guided her cock into her mouth. They closed their mouth around their mistress’ member, closed their eyes despite how useless that gesture was, and moaned at the sensation of their tongue gliding down Raysa's dick.

Both of Raysa's hands were on Jules’ head now. They were going to get their throat fucked, they knew it. “Before we get too far, just in case, make the stop signal for when I can't see your hands.” Raysa was always very insistent they go over the safety protocols whenever the couple got tied up. Sure, Jules belonged to her, but she always made sure they were safe. They made the signal: extended and retracted a finger quickly three times, for longer another three times, then quickly three final times. Raysa was a giant nerd who loved old timey sailing lingo, so she made them remember the code for SOS, an old water vessel’s emergency signal for them to use when they couldn't talk.

“I'm going to move deeper now, you ready?” Jules flicked their tongue against the cockhead in their mouth.

Before Raysa started to move, Jules flicked two more times. They wanted Raysa to fuck them. Didn't matter if it was their pussy or their throat, they looked forward to being used like the good sub they were, and to that end Raysa was about to make them gag.

“I love you, Mine,” Raysa said as she slowly pulled her enby deeper onto her cock. “You feel ok?” Raysa asked after Jules felt their nose press against Raysa's pubic mound. They gagged a little as they were getting used to the sensation again, but then opened and closed their hands three times, begging Raysa: “make me gag on this dick.”

“If only I had known you were this dirty when we met, I never would've let you leave Mars without me.” She pulled Jules away slowly. “Thank God I kept your number.” Much faster than before, Raysa pulled them towards the base of their cock; she thrusted her hips forward at the same time and groaned when their lips reached the hilt. Pulled away faster than before, then back down. Away, then back down. Away, down. Away, down. Raysa soon picked up a rhythm, in and out, in and out. Raysa shoving the head of her cock towards the back of Jules’ throat, them trying to keep down their already-minimal gag reflex, and then Raysa pulled Jules’ head back when she ran out of length to go any deeper. They started dragging their tongue along her cock on their way out, and they could tell from the throbbing that she enjoyed it.

At some point, Jules felt their head press against something hard and cold. Raysa must have forgotten to use something to keep the pair floating in place, and her thrusting must have propelled them ever so slowly to the window. Even though the ship heated the glass to prevent it breaking from the rapid temperature changes between the inside of the station and the frozen vacuum of space, the glass was still very cold against their skin.

They were trapped between the freezing nothingness of space and the blazing everything that was their lover pumping in and out of their face. The heat of the blood filling their Mistress’ member caused images to flash in their mind, of Raysa’s red hair floating away from her head like flames. They could see nothing through their blindfold, but they could feel her. As warm, sweet pre-cum gently spilled into their mouth, Jules was convinced they were getting fucked by a goddess of fire.

“Oh fuck it's been too long since I took you like this,” Raysa told her lover.

It had only been a quarter of a megasecond since Raysa had last tied up Jules.

Gasping profanities as she slowed her thrusts, she asked, “Tell me, do you want me to cum in your mouth or should I make use of you some other way?” Raysa slowed to a stop and left her cock halfway inside their mouth.

Her dick was as hot as a star next to the cold glass dome.

Tasting her sweet pre-cum, in that moment Jules wanted Raysa to just fuck their throat full of jizz, but their pussy was still soaking wet and they wanted - no, they needed - to cum. They were so close to squirting buckets; they needed to feel this delicious cock rearrange their insides, and they were able to mumble that from around her. Raysa floated a bit deeper before asking them, “And where do you want me to cum? In or out?” Such a decision to make! Was Raysa going to stuff their pussy? Or maybe she'd cover their face? Maybe she'd cum on their pussy and have them masturbate with her generous lube? Such decisions! Where did Jules want her cock?

They tried to speak but it came out as vibrations: "'op 'alf 'ease"

“I'd be happy to oblige, Mine. Get ready, you're just about done here” Raysa pulled Jules down hard one last time and held them there. “Just hold for a moment,” Raysa kept Jules’ head firmly in place for point one heartbeat, two, three, then pulled them away entirely. Jules gasped and took several fast, deep breaths. Their gag reflex was good, but even the best had to breathe more than just cock.

“You did so good, Mine.” Raysa stroked their head as Jules gulped down air. “I know that’s not always easy, but you’re doing so well now. How are your arms and legs feeling? Do you need me to let you move around before we continue?”

Jules wiggled their fingers. They felt a little too cold, more than the window should have made them. “Yeah, I think so. Will you take off the blindfold, Mistress?”

“No, Mine. That stays on for now.” Raysa kissed their cheek before turning them around and starting to undo the knots connecting their limbs. “How do you feel about the gravity?” She was starting to undo their hands now.

“I think you're going to drive me insane if this goes on too much longer.” Jules shook their now-free hands, trying to get the blood to flow back into them.

Working on their feet, Raysa asked “what's wrong? Is it the blindfold?”

“Maybe. But I've got this image in my head of you, right before you put it on, your hair was floating, and when you started fucking my throat against the window I could've sworn you were a goddess of fire.” Shaking their feet, they reached out with a hand to where they thought Raysa was.

“What makes you so sure I'm not? Don't you think I'm hot?” Raysa took Jules’ hand and kissed it before massaging their palm. “Besides, I'll have you saying prayers for my cock soon anyway.” Raysa floated around and moved closer to Jules and wrapped her arms around them, spooning them and held them for thirty seconds. “I love you so much, Jules. And I'm proud of you, how well you managed to take my dick.” One hand started to move down their stomach. “Do you think you're ready to keep going?” Raysa's hand reached Jules’ crotch, her hand tickled by their pubic hair and she gently slipped one finger between their legs onto their still-wet vulva.

Jules felt something hard poke them in the back. Hard and hot. Raysa's cock, ready for her to take them again. “I think I can be, Mistress. How do you want me?”

“Give me your arms.” Raysa took them when Jules put their arms behind their back again and tied them together, first tying a knot around their wrists, then tied the same rope in another knot above their elbows. It took a few minutes and a few tries, but eventually Raysa got their arms stuck but comfy. Then, she pulled the rope over their shoulder and under their armpit, and wrapped around the strand in the back. Then, under the other arm and over, and then she tied the rope closing the loop. Jules’ chest was pushed out by the was way Raysa tied their arms and they knew it was intentional. They wondered if she was gonna finish on their chest? It'd be sticky on body hair, but they loved the way it felt, and they knew Raysa enjoyed the way it looked.

“You comfy, Mine?”

“Yes, Mistress.” Jules tested the knots and they were strong but not too tight.

“I'm going to bend you at the waist now.” Raysa put one hand on Jules crotch and pushed them forward from the top of their back. “Bend your legs.” They complied, and Raysa tied each one so it would stay bent. “Good?”

“Yes.”

“Now we're gonna play the guessing game again. Are you going to get to use your mouth now?” Raysa turned the now-completely helpless around and pressed her cock to their lips.

Jules opened their mouth a little and stuck their tongue out to lick the very tip of her dick. “No, I don't think so,” they said, making sure their lips brushed the cockhead right in front of them. “Not after that.”

“Are you sure about that, Mine?”

“Well I was.” It seemed like Raysa started to move lower, but they couldn't be sure.

“So now do you think I'm going to shove my dick in your mouth?” Her voice was getting closer, Jules was almost sure of it.

“Mmm well I wouldn't be upset if you'd finished in my mouth earlier.”

“Well I'm sorry to say you're still wrong, Mine.”

“Then what are --” Jules was cut off mid-sentence by Raysa pressing her lips onto theirs. They didn't just have to stop talking because of the ginger’s lips preventing them from talking, but this kiss shut off their entire thought process. They thought they knew what it felt like to be loved by this woman, the woman to whom they gave ownership of themself, but this kiss showed them that they didn't have a clue.

Jules had lost count of the number of times Raysa kissed them over the hundreds of megaseconds of their time together. All of them were wonderful and beautiful and left Jules longing for more. The ones the couple shared when Jules was tied up, though, were something more. They were like fucking magic. Like fireworks launched into space and sci-fi teleported into their brain to ricochet off the walls of their skull for an eternity.

Every kiss felt like magic and this was no exception. Her soft, full lips pressed against hers. Gently at first, but then they felt her hands on either side of their head, pulling them closer to her. Their lips spread, letting Raysa into their mouth, her tongue greedily searching for theirs, her teeth pulling their lip into her mouth, her hands holding them tight against her.

Raysa wasn't the only person Jules had ever kissed. Yes, she was the person they kissed most often, but that was as much out of convenience as anything else, so they said; they shared a suite on the station, so Raysa was one of the people they saw most often. Yes, Jules loves Raysa, and she them, but both loved others as well. Jules had other lovers and partners, friends on the station and friends they haven't seen in a long time because of their mission on the Lina Stern. Sometimes, Jules and their other lovers had fun with ropes. Sometimes they were more straightforward. Sometimes they slept with several people at the same time. Sometimes Raysa was one of those multiple partners. Sometimes none of them were Raysa. It was a fair assumption that she did the same.

But despite all their lovers, Jules and Raysa always came back to each other. And despite the range of partners and kinks they had, no one ever made love to Jules like Raysa. It was hard to find a partner like her. It was harder to find a lover like her. It was even harder to find a domme like her. A lot of the time, Jules tied up their partner, but they never tied up Raysa. Even with all the ropes and the spanking, Jules never truly felt submissive to anyone but Raysa. More than once, days after a particularly intense scene with her, Jules actually asked Raysa for permission to sleep with someone else. Of course Raysa laughed every time, but Jules could see in her eyes that she wanted them to ask. It was ridiculous, that someone else could have the final say on their partners, but at the time it felt like it was Raysa's right to have a say in it. And even when Jules hadn't just spent dozens of kiloseconds servicing Raysa, the kisses from their new partner were never like Raysa's. Even with the lovers they had known for dozens and dozens of megaseconds, there was never the same feeling they got from Raysa. Whether she kissed them tenderly, like she was then, or kissing them roughly, Jules felt how much Raysa loved them. It was almost enough to push Jules over the edge. Almost, but not quite. Their self control was still there.

She pulled away from the kiss slowly, but it was still too fast for Jules. They weren't ready for the kiss to end, but Mistress was, and so the two moved apart.

“Now I think it's time we moved on, Mine.” Her voice was moving behind them. “What would you guess is going to happen now?”

Jules was still dazed from the kiss. It took them a minute to form a sentence, “You're… you're going to fuck me?” There was a hint of desperation in Jules’ voice. They needed her cock, and soon.

“Very good, mine. How do you think that's going to happen? Am I going to float behind you and grab your ass while I fuck you from behind? Or use your thighs like handles and get to laugh at all the silly faces you make when you cum?” Jules pouted at that.

“Is that why you won't take off this blindfold? So I don't see the weird faces you make when you cum?”

“No, I'm not taking it off now because you're talking back. Don't make me put the gag back on.” Jules' jaw was still sore from the gag. And the deep throating. Mostly the gag. They stopped themself from saying something else to upset Mistress. “And now I think I'm gonna keep you in suspense. Who knows where my dick could end up? Maybe your pirge? Maybe your ear? Who knows?"

“Aural sex went out of fashion a hundred years ago, Raysa.” Putting on the best seductive voice they could in their bound state, “but my pussy never goes out of style.”

“Well maybe I'll bring it back. Could be the best way to deal with a sub who talks back. An ear full of jizz.”

Jules wiggled their rear end. “You know you'd rather cum in almost literally any other orifice.”

“And you think I'm going to choose the one you want me to fill?” She slapped them on the ass harder than they expected, which elicited a yelp. Jules felt hands spread their cheeks apart, then felt a pressure that made them clench some very specific muscles. They still had anal as a hard line; occasionally a small toy was ok, but a cock was too much for them to handle.

“Aww, fine. I guess I don't have a choice then. You won't be able to hear any orders if my dick is in your ear, so I might as well put it… here.” With her last word, Jules felt the pressure of their mistress’ rigidity push inside them, faster than they expected.

Raysa was being a little rougher than usual; did she have a bad shift? Or did she just need more intimate attention between scenes? Jules would have to ask her later; right then they were having a hard time focusing on anything besides the piston that was Raysa, her hands gripping their thighs like a vice as she brought them both closer to an explosive orgasm.

“Ca--can… may I cum, mistress?” Jules stammered, panting and moaning between each word. Even to Jules, their moans were pitifully high pitched, almost squeaks every time Raysa thrust.

"I think you may, Mine. You've been such a good plaything, you deserve a reward. Cum for me, Mine."

And they did.

They tightened the muscles in their pelvic floor and let their lover drive her cock inside her again and again until they exploded around her.

"Good, Mine. Now are you ready for my turn?" Raysa grabbed their thighs, pounding until Jules deliriously nodded and they pulled them close to her and they felt a warmth fill them.

—-

Later, untied and dried off, the two astronauts floated together, holding each other, looking out onto the starscape of an alien system.

They were both ecstatic, still coming down from the high brought on by their intimacy.

Especially the one covered in bruises.

#my writing #smut #nsft

3 notes · View notes

taizi · 2 years

Text

coming right on back for you

part 5 of 5

rise of the tmnt x tmnt 2k12 pairing: leo & mikey, leo & everyone word count: 4634 title borrowed from hurricane by lord huron post-movie

(previous)

read on ao3

According to Blue, the Hidden City, and every little place attached to it, is a pocket realm. If all of the universes in this dimension were highways running parallel to one another, he explained unremarkably, to Donnie’s mounting incredulity, then the Hidden City would be a secret subway system tucked neatly underneath with about a billion lines in and out and crazy good Wi-Fi.

“That’s what Dontron says, anyway,” Blue adds. “I can at least vouch for the Wi-Fi.”

Apparently he and his brothers spent an afternoon testing this hypothesis with some of their local yokai friends.

“Dad said we weren’t allowed to go through the portals, because he’s boring and allergic to fun, but Sunita and Usagi did the smart thing and skipped getting permission from their parents in the first place,” Blue is chattering, his energy picking up with every step closer they get to whatever random corner of Manhattan he’s leading them to. “Mikey was like ‘wait, what if you get trapped in a world full of giant man-eating coconut crabs?’ which was oddly specific, and then Usagi was like ‘then I’ll have an excuse not to go to work tomorrow,’ and I think he was only like eighty-percent joking.”

“Right,” Raph says, definitely not following.

“Usagi Miyamoto?” Leo asks. A lifetime of indulging Mikey and Donnie’s longwinded rants about comic books and copolymers has prepared him for this. He’s not even struggling to keep up with Blue. “The samurai?”

“Uhh, no? Didn’t he live like a thousand years ago?” Blue turns on his heel to walk backwards so he can give Leo a judgmental look. “Usagi Yuichi. Miyamoto’s his ancestor and personal hero, though, so unless you want to hear the entire two-hour historical biography, please don’t say his name again within a two mile radius of the Hidden City. Sagi has ears like a hawk.”

Mikey can’t help smiling to himself as they hop from one rooftop to the next. Little Blue is like a different person out here. The lair really must have felt like a box he was trapped in, and now that he’s out and actually moving, now that he’s got a plan of action and he’s seeing it through, he’s able to shake off some of that stress and anxiety, or at least outrun it. He’s able to breathe.

There was a period of time when the lair felt like a box to Mikey, too. Or a tomb. When sensei died, everything that made it feel safe and warm and inviting died with him. The dojo, and Splinter’s rooms beyond it, were like an undisturbed shrine. All the tunnels and pipes seemed empty and cavernous. The silence was like a disease, creeping around infecting everything.

Mikey’s brothers started spending more and more time away. Mikey hated being there alone, so he stayed away, too. He practically moved into Woody’s apartment for almost a full calendar year. Sometimes he didn’t see his siblings for weeks at a time. He didn’t really know how to be on their team anymore. It’s no wonder he almost died on that mission none of them will talk about.

Blue stops on a ledge so abruptly that Raph collides with him, almost sending them both over the side. It’s only a quick grab on Donnie’s part that spares them a fall.

“We’re here,” Blue says cheerfully, seemingly unbothered by the holes Raph is drilling into the back of his head with his glower.

‘Here’ is an empty alleyway with absolutely nothing of note. Little Blue jumps eagerly down the fire escape to street level, undeterred. With buzzing streetlights nearby and enough light pollution from the city at large that the night sky is more gray than black, the open alley is not as secure as Blue seems to think it is. Anyone could glance out a window and spot him.

Mikey looks sidelong at his brothers, who each meet his worried expression with something amused and tolerant on their faces. Leo kills the lights with a few well-aimed throwing stars and Donnie sets free a tiny drone that will secure a tight perimeter.

“No fun being on this end, huh, chuckles?” Raph says, rubbing the top of Mikey’s head with his knuckles. “Little brothers do whatever they want, older brothers clean up the mess.”

“Ooh, ambiance,” is all Blue says about the added darkness and the faint violet glow from the drone. “I think I can open the door, but I need a boost. Maxi-Me?”

Leo sighs, but he steps forward and presses his hands flat to the kid’s carapace anyway. Mikey can sense Leo’s qi surging and cresting, meeting with Blue’s and mingling easily, like two old friends.

Those distinct markings on Blue’s body flash once, and in the dark it’s as vivid as neon lights. He draws his katana from the borrowed hilt strapped to his shell and slashes down through empty air.

A bright portal opens up, charged and electrified and spitting sparks playfully at the edges. Blue pokes his head through it immediately—all of Mikey’s brothers react to this, not just him, thank you very much—but when Raph seizes the kid’s arm and hauls him out, Blue is grinning.

“Mr Hammond, I think we’re back in business!”

“Uh-huh,” Raph says, still holding onto his arm, because the kid is visibly swaying on his feet and Raph might be the only thing keeping him upright at the moment. “Nice light show. Hypothetically, would you be a little brat about one of us carrying you the rest of the way or nah?”

“I’ve never once in my life been a brat about anything,” Blue replies gravely.

So, feeling a sense of déjà vu, Mikey helps get the kid on Raph’s back. He keeps his casted arm tucked safely between his plastron and Raph’s carapace and then swings his sword into the air like he’s leading a cavalry charge.

“Onwards and upwards, brethren! Excelsior!”

Leo reaches over and takes the sword out of his hand.

Donnie recalls his drone with a soft whistle and Mikey lingers behind so they can go through the portal together. His purple-banded brother smiles at him automatically, and doesn’t miss a beat in stringing a long arm around Mikey’s shoulders.

“Ready for whatever’s in there?” he asks.

“After Dimension X and actual outer space?” Mikey says, elbowing him in the side. “How weird could it be?”

The answer turns out to be pretty weird.

They step through the portal into what looks like a normal restaurant. In one breath, Mikey can smell fresh dough, garlic, pepperoni—it smells exactly like Rupert’s. It could have been any other upscale pizzeria in New York City, except for the fact that there isn’t a single human being to be seen.

There are insect wings, reptilian eyes, furry faces, feathered ears, tails and snouts and scales, and not a sense of uniformity about any of it. One cute little blob-shaped person is dressed in a full suit and tie, and a handful of customers with bird heads are wearing traditional kimono.

“I thought you guys were New Yorkers,” Blue says, looking sidelong at them like they’re relatives he’s embarrassed to be seen with. “Try to look a little less like tourists or we’ll get robbed blind.”

If there was any one way to snap a Manhattan native out of a stupor, that was definitely it.

“Where to?” Raph asks impatiently, like he totally wasn’t ogling the place a second ago.

The question is answered for them, by the sudden, disbelieving voice that demands, “Pepino?”

Blue’s face lights up as an angry-looking skeleton comes charging over from the other side of the dining room. He squirms until Raph rolls his eyes and lets him hop down, and then spreads both his whole and broken arm out grandly.

“Boneman! It’s so good to see you! Business looks booming, so I take it the world didn’t end, that’s great! Can I borrow your phone?”

The angry-looking skeleton only appears more incensed by the second. He grabs the kid by the shoulder and gives him a solid shake, just hard enough to rattle him but not enough to hurt, and starts in on a livid Spanish tirade that sounds like it would flay the skin off of Blue’s bones if he actually understood more than every third word of it.

“Hey—uh, hey, Señor Hueso, I know my two-hundred-and-fifteen day streak on Duolingo is extremely impressive, but you’re going to have to slow down for me a little, amigo.”

“You will sit,” Señor Hueso snaps, pointing him to a nearby booth in a threatening manner, “and you will not move or I will curse you to the chair.”

“Um, sure, but I really need your phone,” Blue replies, not sitting. His smile is fixed, but all his manic energy is finally draining away, leaving behind a homesick kid who is very very close to the finish line of a painful sprint. “I need to—my brothers are—”

“Your brothers are tearing the city apart as we speak, yes,” the skeleton replies shortly. “No one has known peace since you disappeared. Big Mama left the state indefinitely and I had half a mind to close shop and follow her example.”

He sounds testy and fed-up, but his eye sockets don’t stray from the kid for more than a second or two at a time. When he points at the booth again, Little Blue sinks into it like his legs have turned to jelly.

Mikey sits next to him, because Blue’s expression is doing something it hurts to watch.

“I will call them,” Señor Hueso says firmly. On his way toward the back of house, he gives the older turtles a passing, cursory glance, and nothing more. For once, Mikey and his brothers aren’t the oddest thing in the room.

“What’s all this, huh?” Donnie asks, teasing gently, because Blue is starting to get a little teary as he stares restlessly at the front door.

“Oh, uh—” He rubs his eyes with his good hand, his smile a wobbly, weak-kneed thing. “Uhh, I just realized I haven’t had my phone on me for the past couple days, so I definitely broke my streak. That’s all.”

“Sure,” Leo says generously, and they leave it alone.

A server in a neat uniform comes by with a tray of glasses, one of which she puts directly in Blue’s hand. She seems willing to stand there staring at him with all seven of her eyes until he drinks it, so he takes a drink.

Mikey gets the sense that Blue is a familiar face around here, and that his presence was definitely missed, even if no one seems willing to give him the satisfaction of admitting it where he can actually hear them.

When the front door flies open hard enough that it literally comes off its hinges and damages a wall, Blue is already scrambling to his feet.

He barely makes it around the table in time to catch the blur of orange and green that hurtles into him at full speed. Mikey is suddenly looking at a very young version of himself, all soft round edges and colorful paint-splotch markings, clinging to Blue like he’s the last solid thing in the world to hold onto.

It would be cute, if his Mini-Me wasn’t sobbing his little heart out. A beat later, a third turtle with an armored shell and a purple mask slams into them both.

“Hey,” Blue says, alarmed, “Angie, it’s okay, come on. You gotta breathe, kiddo.” His hands, rubbing Angie’s shuddering carapace, move to his shoulders, attempting to peel him away so Blue can look at him properly, but Angie only makes a hurt sound and presses closer, burying his beak in the crook of Blue’s neck and shoulder. “Mikey—Tello, what—?”

Mikey and his brothers move back to give them space. Raph glares at the only occupied table on this side of the dining room until they take the hint, pick up their plates, and relocate. Then they do their ninja thing, fading into the periphery without moving a muscle.

“You guys need to talk to me,” Blue is saying, his anxiety level visibly climbing with every second his siblings cling to him and cry. “Is Raph okay? Did something—”

“We thought you were dead, you idiot,” Tello cuts him off harshly, muffled since he refuses to lift his face out of Blue’s shoulder. “It’s been days, Nardo. We thought—”

“And it was my fault,” Angie blurts, his voice warbling and miserable. The words come spilling out too fast, all on top of each other. “I opened the portal to bring you back but that monster grabbed you. I c-couldn’t let him out but I couldn’t leave you behind so I thought I could make the portal go in two directions at once. It was supposed to take you someplace safe and spit him back out into the prison dimension but I did it wrong.” His breath hitches, and he can barely speak at all for how hard he’s crying. “We couldn’t find you. We looked everywhere, Leo, I swear, we—we looked everywhere. Raphie and Donnie didn’t want me to use my mystic hands again because it hurt but I tried anyway. I really—really tried. But I couldn’t find you. You were gone and it was all my fault.”

Mikey can’t see Blue’s expression, given that he’s sandwiched fully between his brothers, but he can see it when the iron shoots through his spine, when the leader inside him steps forward and everything else falls behind.

He works himself free of Angie’s octopus-armed hug, just enough that he can frame the smaller turtle’s face with his good hand. It’s tricky business, because now Tello stubbornly refuses to be budged, but Blue gets there after a minute.

“Angelo, you did send me somewhere safe. You dropped me right in front of a guy with crazy Jedi healing powers! I was exactly where I needed to be. They took care of me, see?” He wiggles his pink arm cast for emphasis. “And that portal? Incredible. Puts every single one of mine to absolute shame. I’m so beyond proud of you.”

Mikey watches Angie’s eyes well right up again, and the little guy wails, “I missed you so much! I love you, you’re my only Leo, please don’t ever go away again!”

“You don’t have to butter me up, Michael, I’m already gonna let you draw on my cast,” Blue jokes, or tries to, because his voice breaks and gives him away.

“Swear it,” Tello says venomously. His tone is cutting and the whole of him looks like he’s on the cusp of committing an act of violence if he doesn’t get what he wants in the next couple of seconds. “Or I’ll fry every microprocessor you come into contact with from now until 2055. On god, Leon—smartphones, gaming consoles, the microwave—”

“I swear! I swear, okay? No getting rid of me!” Blue plants his cheek on the top of Angie’s head, pats whatever part of Tello he can reach around his armful of little brother. “I mean, tossing me into another universe wasn’t enough, so nothing ever could be, right? We’re stuck with each other. Promise.”

Mikey lifts a hand to feel the scar on his arm.

He doesn’t really remember how he got it, and asking about it always made his brothers look so grim and full of grief that Mikey quickly learned to stop asking. But he thinks of it, secretly, only inside the safety of his head, as a good thing. It gave them all a reason to come back home.

The day that Mikey was officially discharged from the infirmary for good, his arm wrapped up meticulously from elbow to wrist to protect the stitches, Donnie led him into the living room, where Leo, Raph, April and Casey were waiting in the pit. It looked like they’d cleared out the inventory of a local Home Depot. April was brandishing a yardstick at Raph as if it was a weapon every bit as dangerous as her precious, deadly tessen. Mikey looked around at all the paints and rollers, trays and liners, the heavy-duty canvas aprons his siblings were wearing like ninja armor, and wondered if this was another one of his weird fever-dreams.

“Well?” Casey snapped, shoving a handful of swatches at him. “We’re starting in the kitchen, so pick a stupid yellow already.”

“I think I missed a meeting,” Mikey said helplessly.

“April’s idea,” Leo told him. His eyes looked dark and tired and older than they had any right to be, but they were looking right at Mikey. It had been ages since he looked right at Mikey, all of his formidable attention turned into a warm, kind thing, like a well-loved blanket. “We’re making it ours. Taking it back from the ghosts.”

It took a long time but they reclaimed their home day by day, room by room. It got easier as they went. They got better at it. Paint went on walls more evenly, conversation graduated from polite and restrained to comfortable and familiar. Mikey’s yellow kitchen is still his pride and joy. They always eat dinner together there.

Even the most painful parts of his life were ultimately good things. Mikey knows he has an appreciation for the lair now that he didn’t have when he was growing up. As a child, it was his sprawling playground, it was the place he ran to at the end of the day, and it was a given. He took it for granted, up until it was almost gone forever. He doesn’t take it for granted anymore.

Looking at Blue and his siblings now, Mikey realizes for the first time that his philosophy is not transferable.

He never wants Blue or Angie or Tello to learn the lessons Mikey had to at their age. He wants these boys to take home for granted forever. Kids should get to do that. They shouldn’t have to second-guess it. They can appreciate what they have just fine without being terrified of losing it.

When the Raphael of this dimension shows up, it’s immediately apparent why Little Blue was so bewildered by Mikey’s Raph from the jump. This kid is huge, closer to Slash in size than any of Mikey’s brothers. He freezes in the broken doorway, taking in the tableau for a moment, chest heaving. He must have run the whole way here from wherever he was when he got the call.

There’s so much in his face that it’s impossible for Mikey to pick it all apart. His arms are big enough to hold all three of his brothers at once, and that’s exactly what he does when he gets to them.

“Hi, Bossman,” Blue whispers.

“I’m mad at you,” he announces succinctly, in a voice all thick and wet with tears. “You’re grounded forever. Pops will back me up. You’re about to live a very boring life for a very long time.”

“Sorry,” Blue replies easily enough, and then his breath catches, and then he’s bawling. It was a long time coming. Mikey’s been waiting for this to happen since that first time the kid woke up in their infirmary, half out of his mind with fear and pain.

Tello and Angie extract themselves so Blue can throw both his arms as far around his red-masked brother as they’ll go. If the broken one hurts at all, he doesn’t show it. And the bigger turtle, for all that he’s physically imposing and wildly intimidating upon first glance, seems to have the heart and soul of a teddy bear. His face crumples and he scoops Blue clean off his feet, hugging him like it’s an Olympic sport and he’s going for gold.

“Sorry, Raphie,” Blue chokes out. “I’m so sorry. I made everything so hard for you and I was such an asshole and I almost got you killed.”

“First of all, watch your mouth,” the bigger turtle says—which honestly blows Mikey’s mind more than anything else that’s happened in the last three days combined. “Second of all—Leo, you’re sixteen and you’re my little brother. It’s your legal right to make my life difficult. You think Donnie hasn’t made me want to change my name and flee the country? More than once? And we both know Mikey is a feral child only pretending to understand societal norms fifty percent of the time.”

That coaxes a weak laugh out of Blue, and all of his siblings brighten a little to hear it.

“You didn’t almost get me killed,” Big Red goes on. “It was your choice to try to fix your mistake, and it was my choice to protect you. Those were good choices. Let’s blame everything else on the ones whose fault it actually was and forget about it. Okay?”

“Okay,” Blue mumbles, sounding maybe halfway convinced.

“Back on the ship, I remember you saying that being the leader was scary,” Red adds, a little more gently. “I wasn’t really myself at the time, and then a million other things happened, so I didn’t get to tell you—but I never meant to make you feel like leading the team was something you were going to have to do alone. I’m always going to be here to help. We can do it together. Anata wa hitori janai. You don’t have to be scared.”

“Don’t be scared, Michael.”

Little Blue is a good big brother, and it’s immediately obvious exactly who he learned his moves from. The evidence in front of him warms Mikey all the way down to his bones.

“Tell him the other thing,” Angie pipes up abruptly.

“I’m recording so if he denies acknowledging it later we’ll have him for self-perjury,” Tello adds. Mikey doesn’t see a camera anywhere, but somehow he doesn’t doubt that the armored turtle has one.

“Right.” Big Red sets Blue back on his feet, puts his giant hands on Blue’s slim shoulders, dwarfing them completely, and regards him with open warmth and affection for a moment. Then he says, “If you ever try to die for us again, I will kill you myself.”

“Extenuating circumstances,” Blue says weakly, wilting under the combined weight of three glares.

“Not applicable,” Tello snaps.

“And if you think Pops, April and Casey Jr don’t also have some very strongly-worded opinions about it, boy are you in for a fun surprise,” Red goes on. “There’s going to be a PowerPoint presentation.”

“You hated it when Raph saved you that way, Leon,” Angie says firmly, amber eyes level and clear now that he’s cried himself out. He’s a tough kid. Even with his face all messy from recent tears, Mikey’s Mini-Me looks ready to tear down a mountain with his bare hands to prove his point. “We hated it, too. Find another way next time.”

Next to Mikey, Raph huffs a sardonic-sounding laugh. It’s quiet and doesn’t carry farther than his own brothers when he mutters, “Try asking him to catch the moon in a cup next. He’d probably get that done faster.”

Leo gives him a dry look. “I don’t think you’re one to talk.”

“I don’t think any of us are,” Donnie puts in, not without a sort of good humor. His eyes move to Mikey, down to the scar on his arm that his siblings all hate to think about, and he says, “We wouldn’t know how to put ourselves before each other if the fate of the world depended on it.”

Mikey says, “I don’t think that’s a bad thing. Better than the alternative.”

Raph slings an arm around the top of Mikey’s carapace, as easily as if those rough, polarizing years between sixteen and eighteen never happened. “We’re adults, so we can do what we want,” he says, smiling crookedly. “Blue’s a baby, so his acts of heroism are only good for getting himself grounded, looks like.”

“He’s better off,” Leo says, coaxed into a half-smile of his own. “Maybe he’ll learn from it.”

“Considering he can, apparently, both summon his swords out of thin-air and create portals with them, I’m not sure how effective grounding will be in this universe,” Donnie replies wryly. “It barely did anything to you and you very much couldn’t teleport, Leo. It’s good of his siblings to try, though.”

“Well, as stimulating as this conversation is, the peanut gallery behind us just reminded me of something, soooo—sidebar!” Blue says loudly. “Doesn’t anyone want to know what I’ve been up to these last couple days? You’ll never guess where Mikey stuck me for safe-keeping. Go on, guess.”

Angie looks disgruntled, and Tello looks downright mutinous. Red blows out a huge sigh, but he seems more reluctantly fond than anything else. “We’ll work on it,” he says as an aside to the other two. Blue takes this as an acquiescence and sprints with it.

“I was with our cousins!” he announces brightly, sweeping his good arm in the direction of Mikey and his brothers. “Turns out Donnie was right about alternates. That corkboard wasn’t the waste of space I always claimed it was. You win this round, twinnie.”

Mikey takes that as his cue to shake off the perception-bending trick and move forward into the kids’ collective awareness again. Immediately, Angie is staring up at him with wide brown eyes, and Mikey feels his heart do something soft.

“Alternates?” Tello demands, looking like Christmas came early just for him specifically.

“Cousins?” Mikey says to Blue, raising a brow at him.

“What of it,” Blue says with a jut of his chin that Mikey clocks as Leonardo at his absolute most stubborn. “I had a dream about Gram-gram and she said just ‘cause you’re not my brothers doesn’t mean you’re not my family. Sounds right to me. So—cousins.”

“We’ve never had cousins before!” Big Red says enthusiastically, looking at Raph like he’s the coolest thing on this side of the hemisphere. An hour ago, Mikey would never have believed the word ‘adorable’ could apply to any version of his hot-headed brother, but he has since been proven completely wrong. “Welcome to the family! You have to meet everyone before you leave! And I really mean that, April will literally never forgive us if you don’t.”

“She’ll hold it against us forever!” Angie says cheerfully. “She’s the best.”

Leo steps forward and puts out his hand. “Nice to meet you,” he says politely. “I’m Donatello.”

Big Red, who had been about to eagerly shake his hand, freezes mid-step and stares at him. Angie’s mouth drops open, and Tello develops a twitch in his eye.

It’s impossible to argue with Leo’s calm, implacable expression. The kids don’t know him well enough to know that this is an act he perfected by lying right to Splinter’s face about why he and his brothers broke curfew, or went above ground when they weren’t supposed to, or absolutely destroyed the den for the second time in a week. He’d only ever let himself be less than perfect to keep his siblings out of trouble.

Mikey thinks Splinter could usually tell, but sometimes he’d let Leo have the lie anyway, his dark eyes warm with laughter that his face never gave away.

Leo at his most mischievous is a carbon-copy of their father. It’s the only ghost he keeps.

There’s a length of silence so absolute that Mikey thinks he forgets what sound even sounds like for a second. Behind him, he can sense his brothers’ amusement, none of them willing to break rank and give the game away.

Little Blue recovers first. He throws his head back and laughs, loud and delighted in a way that fills the room.

Mikey looks back at Leonardo in time to see him smile at the sound.

#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt #rottmnt movie #tmnt 2k12 #hamato leonardo #hamato michelangelo #my writing #tmnt fic #coming right on back for you #i forgot to post this on here lol

45 notes · View notes

supermediabrothers6 · 8 months

Text

So I wrote a short story about the First Doctor to submit to the Big Finish writing contest this year and I was rejected. Since the story won’t be turned into a Big Finish audio it’s now just a fun little fan fiction. Therefore I’m posting it here for your amusement :) enjoy!

“A Step Too Far” By Billy.

The Doctor was young. Their current body was wearing a bit thin, but that was practically nothing to a Time Lord. It was their first body. The only one they’d ever known. The Doctor’s people cycled through a little over a dozen over the course of their life span. Of course, if they were honest with themselves, they were quite nervous about renewal (The process by which a Time Lord exchanged an old body for a new one). They acknowledged this fear as irrational. Billions of Time Lords before them had regenerated successfully to the point where it wasn’t worth remarking upon. “But,” the nagging voice at the back of their mind said, “you have never done it.” The Doctor’s subconscious, played on their own prized feelings of individuality to undercut their confidence. The cheek… It was a good thing then that the Doctor was almost never honest with themselves, or anyone else, about anything.

Portraying a confidence so real they almost believed in it themselves, the insecure youngster who called themselves the Doctor strutted into the control room of the TARDIS that they had the audacity to call theirs.

While the Doctor was young, next to the individuals who met them there, they were a corpse several times over. Ian Chesterton, and Barbara Wright, looked an awful lot like Time Lords, but they were in fact alien intruders from a strange and barbaric world known as “Earth.” “Earth,” the Doctor thought, sounded like a word one would say while trying to move a heavy object across the room. “URTH!” Ian was humanoid, generally speaking, but strangely box-like. He had a rectangular body, rectangular features on a rectangular head, and two rectangular arms that ended in cuboid fists. Even his sense of style added to the effect. His constant frumpy sweaters, rectangular ended ties, and his haircut angular and semi symmetrical. Barbara’s fashion sense the Doctor approved of much more. Her hair was worn in a big, almost spherical, shape. She also wore mostly sweaters, but hers were much less boxy than Ian’s, and the collars were often rounded like the collar of a spacesuit, which the Doctor found amusing. The last of their companions, however, was no savage alien creature, but their own granddaughter. A charming young woman who had become so interested with the culture of Earth that she also dressed in an earth style somewhere between Ian’s and Barbara’s. Nice sweaters, and a high and tight haircut. Annoyingly she even insisted on being called by an Earthling name: “Susan.”

The Doctor could hardly blame Susan for being so interested in the blue-green speckled world. They admitted to also being intrigued by it for several key reasons. First and foremost being of course that they couldn’t seem to escape the bloody place. The day they and Susan had “borrowed” the TARDIS from a scrapyard on their home planet they’d set course for the wonders of the universe, and landed right away on the blasted thing. Ever since it seemed every other trip they took it was another random visit to a culture or historical period on the planet Earth. Another reason, of course, was the fact that the Doctor had two abducted Earthlings living on their ship.

It was all Susan’s fault. The Doctor had landed for a time in London on Earth in the mid 20th century for reasons of their own. Susan had insisted on participating in the local schooling system. Perhaps inevitably two of her so called “instructers” at the institution she had attended noticed something suspicious about her, and had followed her home, discovering the TARDIS. In a move spurred by absolute panic, the Doctor had taken off, abducting these two earther subjects, and dragging them all across the universe. Ever since then, they’d spent even more time on Earth than before as the Doctor tried everything they could to find a way back to the time period from where Barbara and Ian used to belong. To make matters worse it was on that same disastrous trip that the ship’s chameleon circuit had stopped working. Trapping the ship in the shape of a “Police Public Call Box” whatever that was. Ian, Barbara, and even Susan had tried to explain it to the Doctor multiple times and they still weren’t sure they fully understood.

So maybe it was only because of the sheer amount of exposure the Doctor had had to the earth and its people. But the Doctor also found themselves absolutely fascinated by the earth and its people. When arriving on earth, on the voyage that resulted in the alien invaders on their ship, the Doctor had adapted to wearing earthling clothes to blend in. Now their earth style wardrobe had become the only items out of their expansive closet that they ever wore. They had not sunk so low as to wear the dull sweaters their companions did, but instead wore a jacket with tails, a waist coat with a watch chain, a flowing cape, and a series of colorful patterned ties. Fashion had been a passion awakened in the Doctor by their travels. At home, everyone wore the same drab robes, with only minor differentiation based on ranks or certain professions. In many other places in the universe clothes were used as an expression of the inner self. There was an art form in choosing the right clothes to leave the right impression in the minds of the people around you. Today, as on most every other day, the Doctor wished to create the impression of maturity, near omnipotent wisdom, and supreme confidence.

The Doctor stood at the console of the ship and placed their hand, in what they hoped was a masterful way, on the control panel. “Ms. Wright! Mr. Chestermum! You’ve made no secret of your casual disrespect and disregard for me and my ability to control this vessel. As if the man who built this great craft would not be its master!” They hesitated somewhat after that. Concerned that Susan would call them out on their flagrant fib, but as always she left them un-challenged. They continued: “But I promised you that I would indeed bring you back to your own time and your own planet, and I as always, am a man of my word. So, if you would be so kind to observe the scanner!” With a flourish the Doctor flipped the scanner switch and pointed dramatically at the screen overhead, keeping their eyes on Ian, and Barbara’s faces. Sadly, rather than the looks of excitement, gratitude, elation, or even shame, that the Doctor expected, their faces had a look of bemused condescension. Angry, and confused the Doctor looked back at the scanner, only to see the screen buried in static.

Susan piped up hesitantly, trying to be helpful: “It must have developed a fault grandfather.” “Nevermind!” said the Doctor cutting her off. Their self confidence was rapidly depleting. They needed to do something fast to save face. “We don’t need the scanner after all” they said as they moved as casually as they could with how hard their hearts were beating towards the door controls. “Now hold on Doctor.” Ian interjected “Just a minute! You haven’t even checked the environmental readings yet!” The Doctor was feeling heat rising in their head. In their state of shattered hubris, Ian’s words, meant as a friendly reminder, instead felt like a cruel insult. The heat in the Doctor’s face boiled over and exploded outward “FOR THE LAST TIME CHEDDARBIN! I AM THIS VESSEL’S MASTER! I am sick to death of your insinuations, and insults sir! Once and for all I will tell you this: I am the Doctor, and I know what I’m doing!” they then wrenched the door control a good deal harder than necessary, stormed through the slowly opening inner doors and grasped the door handle of the police box shaped outer doors. They took one extra second to look back at their companions, probably to finally get the reaction they had initially hoped for, and flung open the doors. They then immediately, and quite against their will, flew out the door, and into the vacuum of space.

In the briefest millisecond after the Doctor realized they were about to die, a series of thoughts passed through their mind at a speed that surprised even them. Their earlier insecurities about the concept of renewal of course sprang immediately to the forefront of their mind. They were almost grateful. The lifespan of any individual’s body was always hard to gage. Though their current body looked, and felt, to be near the end of its tether, they could be living with their fears and trepidations about the end of their first life for another year, or another hundred years, or another thousand. As unpleasant as a sudden violent, or accidental death might be, at least it would be over. They would know what it was like, how it was done, and could live the rest of their lives without ever having to worry about it again.

They wondered what they’d look like when it was done? What they’d BE like when it was done? Renewal wasn’t just a new body after all, it was a full body and mind metamorphosis! What if they decided they didn’t like their clothes anymore? What if they ended up as an incredible bore who decided to be mature, and responsible, and take Susan, and the ship back home? They could never go back. They simply couldn’t, even if they wanted to. Even if they could, outsiders would not be permitted. What would become of Ian and Barbara?

They had always assumed they would go through this alone, or perhaps with Susan by their side. They’d never thought of the possibility of their first renewal being observed by two strange, savage, aliens. They couldn’t help but be greatly amused at the thought of the human’s reactions to seeing the process take place, and the result of it. If they had failed to impress them with their ability to pilot the TARDIS at least they’d finally wow them using basic time lord biology. They wondered if they’d be able to see their faces as they changed. They tried to think about where they were in relation to them so they could turn their head towards them again.

They then realized as the shock began to wear off, that they were spinning through space into an endless void. They would either asphyxiate, freeze, or explode from decompression. Regardless there wouldn’t be enough living cells in their body left to start the process. They were going to die, really die, pointlessly, and very far from home. Instead of impressing their companions, they’d shown in their final moments to be a blustering preening idiot. They’d traveled with these people, as alien, and irritating as they often were. They’d fought with them, laughed with them, cried with them, and now because of their own ego, their own insecurities, they were dying alone. Despite all they’d been thru together, the last memory they’d have of them was them shouting like the petulant spoiled child they were.

It was finally at this moment that the Doctor was broken out of their thoughts by incredible pain in their arm. They’d never taken their hand off the door handle after opening it. They’d flown out the doorway, and their arm had just snapped taught like a rope between them and the TARDIS’ outer door. They flapped like a leaf on a breeze, barely hanging on to its mother tree in fall. Despite the impression of wind, it was eerily quiet as the Doctor was buffeted about. “Of course!” The Doctor thought, “sound doesn’t carry in space!” Almost as soon as they’d had that thought, they impossibly heard the sadly familiar noise of their granddaughter in great distress: “Grandfather!” she shouted. With effort, the Doctor looked up at the open TARDIS door. Susan was just standing there, in the TARDIS doorway, in almost the same spot the Doctor had stood when they were flung from the ship! Yet she showed no sign of being sucked into the void with them. Barbara stood behind her, she looked as if she had rushed forward to prevent Susan from falling out, only to realize the same strange fact the Doctor had.

There was a moment of impasse where neither Susan, nor Barbara wished to abandon the Doctor, but neither could figure out how to reach them without leaving the TARDIS. The moment lasted just long enough for the Doctor to realize despite all logic that they were still able to breathe. The moment concluded as Ian came to the rescue. He approached the doorway of the TARDIS brandishing the heavy wooden coat stand from the console room. Barbara and Susan, understanding what he was trying to do, moved to brace him as he extended the stand longways out towards the Doctor as a lifeline. The Doctor gratefully grasped it, thanking their lucky stars that their artificial hand was holding up so well.

After tense seconds that seemed to stretch on for eternity, the Doctor was safe on the solid extra dimensional ground of the TARDIS interior. They felt their frail, and worn body threatening to drift into unconsciousness but they were unable to allow that. Their companions dragged them bodily within the interior doors. “Shut the doors!” barked Ian. Susan rushed to the control panel and obeyed. The doors hummed shut. The serene buzz of the machine was rendered irritating in relation to how hard the Doctor’s heart was pounding. The Doctor struggled to their feet, and moved to the controls. “Are you alright grandfather?” Susan asked. “You should rest” said Barbara. “Hm? What? Oh no no no no no, quite out of the question.” The Doctor muttered almost to themself. “Susan, check the fault locator.” Reluctant to leave her grandfather’s side, Susan nevertheless obeyed. “Everything is reading normal grandfather.” “Not possible.” The Doctor sputtered. “Surely at least it’s reading a fault in the scanner?” As they spoke they checked the scanner switch. The scanner worked perfectly, showing a frankly breathtaking view of the world beyond. The Doctor also noticed rather ruefully that even when the TARDIS had landed in empty space, from the positions of the stars, they appeared to be only a stones throw from Earth.

Eventually the Doctor was able to get a rough idea as to the sequence of events. Apparently the moment the Doctor was thrown from the TARDIS door the magnificent ship had extended a kind of protective barrier that contained enough oxygen, pressure, and heat to protect the Doctor and their companions from serious harm. “What a marvelous safety feature!” the Doctor exclaimed without thinking. Recovering quickly they sputtered: “Silly old fool that I am, I quite forgot I installed it! Hehe! The only part I don’t understand, If I understand, I mean, if I remember correctly, how this feature works, as it was working even before the door opened, there should have been no explosive decompression when I opened the doors.” “There wasn’t.” said Ian. “What do you mean my boy hm?” snapped the Doctor. “Do you think I flung myself out the door in a fit of peak hmm? Do you imagine I’ve lost my wits completely?” Their companions exchanged a glance. “Doctor”, said Barbara, “If there had been explosive decompression we all would have been sucked out too. When you opened the doors the ship pitched violently. It almost felt as if the ship was being shaken in such a way specifically to push you out the door.”

The Doctor felt a chill shoot through them. The fact was that when they left their home planet they’d had next to no experience with these machines. They’d heard stories but they’d assumed that people who spoke of TARDIS as if they were alive were engaging in romantic exaggeration. But between this instance, and the incident with the fast return switch…

The air corridor had been in place before they’d been ejected. They didn’t believe the ship meant them harm, but they did think they were being warned. What was it they’d said before the ship had thrown them out? “This ship is mine!” “I am the master!” They’d started believing their own lies, and the ship was fighting back. Warning them not to take it for granted. The Doctor felt then the true enormity of the situation. They stood not in the control room of a space-time vessel, but in the belly of a great creature. A creature that could expel, or potentially swallow them, at any time. The Doctor decided to keep this information to themself. One more lie would have to be acceptable if it meant allowing their companions to sleep at night. They would simply have to be more careful to live in harmony with this beast, this ship, this being, that they had begun to think of as home.

The Doctor turned to their companions, “Oh Susan!” They said. “I wonder, have you been keeping up with your lessons child?” Susan looked bewildered, “Well, no grandfather.” “Oh dear, dear me. We left Coal Hill school quite a time ago now my dear and I’m afraid you’ve fallen quite behind. What good fortune it is then that we have two of your teachers here to help.” “Doctor…” Ian seemed about to interject. “cha cha cha!” The Doctor said to interrupt, “I will not have a juvenile delinquent in the family, now go with Ian and Barbara and they’ll fill you in on what you must have missed in the time you’ve all been gone.” They shuffled Ian, Barbara, and Susan towards the door to the rest of the TARDIS. “What are you going to do Doctor?” Ian asked. “Work on figuring out what went wrong?” “What? Oh no no no no.” The Doctor said. “It was nothing my boy. Just need to give the old girl some over due maintenance that’s all.” As soon as their companions were out of earshot, the Doctor set about giving the console room the most thorough cleaning it had ever received. They resolved that from then on this would be the best cared for TARDIS in all of time and space.

If you were to ask her, the TARDIS would not answer of course, but inside she would think, that while this promise was not always kept, the intention, and spirit of the thing was what meant the most.

The End

#doctor who #classic who #william hartnell #william russell #jacqueline hill #Carol Ann ford #Susan #barbara wright #ian chesterton #the first doctor #fan fiction #big finish

3 notes · View notes

homoeroticvillain · 6 months

Text

i keep forgetting to post this so this is chapter one for the varied account of geist [2.4k words]

“Hey, Jello, Buddy? What are we even looking for here?” Said the young women as she peered around the dusty attic her friend had lead her to.

“No clue, Ang. Anything you interesting you can find, I guess” Replied Jello, a name that should be spelled Gelo due to it being a short form but all their friends took the much more fun approach for spelling

“How helpful.” Angie had known Jello since preschool and this whole situation smelled off, and she swore that it wasn’t just the smell of the sheer amount of dust and probably mold in the attic. Examining the room she side eyed her friend as she asked another question, “I’m surprised you aren’t more broken up about this, you and your grandpa were pretty close weren’t you?”

“Yeah.” Came Jello’s halfhearted reply as they dug through a box in a corner that spit up a cloud of dust at them as they tried to card through it.

“Okay, spill.” Angie got to work on another side of the room while waiting for her friend to tell her what the hell was going on. It wouldn’t be the first time for Jello to close of their emotions but Angie was pretty damn sure she knew what that looked like and this wasn’t that.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about!” Jello turned around to flash a grin at their friend, an act that received the gift of some waded up paper tossed at their head, “Ow… what was that for?”

“For you being an idiot, just tell me what the hell is going on in that stupid little head of yours.” Angie glared at her friend, who was pouting at her in a way she had seen billions of times. She pitied anyone it still worked on.

“Okay. Okay.” Jello seemed to ponder to themself for a second, “Are you sure?”

“Yes!” Angie was annoyed with their antics at this point, apparently this is what she gets for trying to actually be a good friend for once.

“No need to shout!” Jello shouted back, “I don’t think Nonno is dead.”

“What? You think he faked his death or something?” Angie raised an eyebrow before turning back around to flip through what she was pretty sure was a box of old tapes, most of them labeled as movies she vaguely remembered watching with Jello when she was young.

“Pretty much, yeah.” Jello nodded as they flipped through the old books stacked everywhere, “Around a week before he quote unquote died, I remember him genuinely telling me he always wanted to fake his death.”

“…That’d do it, wouldn’t it?” Angie sighed, she wasn’t surprised really. It had been a long time since she’d seen Jello’s grandfather but it’d take a lot to forget that the guy was kind of off his rocker. Faking his death didn’t really seem like that much of a stretch.

“Mhm!” Jello loudly hummed in agreement as they held a book obviously upside down, “Either way Nonno left me all the junk in his attic in the will so there’s gotta be something good up here.” They tossed the book aside.

“Watch where you’re throwing things,” Angie barely dodged the flying book, “Anyways couldn’t you have gotten you’re brother to help with this instead of me?”

“Oh, c’mon, Ang. You know you know Nonno better then him.” Jello looked over at Angie with exaggerated disappointment, “Besides you know Adam wouldn’t want to get dirt under his fingernails.”

“God, yeah. I can hear him now.” And she could, she knew Adam well enough at this point that she could hear the exact cadence of his voice pitching higher as he complained about how he had just gotten his nails done and he wasn’t about to ruin them for this.

There conversation died out into a companionable silence as they both dug through boxes, flipped through books, examined old photographs, and on one notable occasion batted off a rat with a broom. An incident that resulted in Jello leaping up into Angie’s arms as she tried her best to balance both her friend and a broom to get the rat to run off down the ladder so they didn’t have to deal with it. Fortunately for the both of them, the rat commotion unearthed a box that looked like it had been dug through recently despite neither of them having touched it so far.

After they, read Jello, had thoroughly calmed down from the rat scare they both peered into the box. It was christened with a fresh envelope on top that read “To my dear grandchild, and Angelica who they likely brought along”

“Hey, what do ya know? Your granddad could read the future.” Angie joked as she picked up the envelope and ripped it open.

“Oh shut up.” Jello rolled their eyes but didn’t stop Angie from opening the letter herself.

Angie cleared her throat before starting to read the letter:

Kids, I assume if you are reading this letter then my will has been read, that or you have managed to scavenge through here without me noticing in which case good on you! Either way this letter is to tell you that I wish for you to carry on my legacy. You are welcome to share this legacy to any you see fit, although perhaps not my son, I doubt he would be happy I’m telling you about this at all. Nonetheless! It’s best to dig through this box a bit more to figure everything out. I wish you kids luck.

With Love, Your Nonno <3

“Huh. Okay.” Angie tossed the letter to Jello who only barely caught it and read it over again themself. Under the letter lay a thoroughly annotated book, “Hey, Jello? Do you know a Geist?”

“Geist the gentlemen thief?” Jello looked up from the letter which they folded and shoved in their pocket, “Yes. Obviously? Who do you think I am?”

“Well, I don’t know him. Who was he?” Angie stared down at the book she was holding as he prodded her friend with questions. She wasn’t surprised they knew extensively about some sort of gentlemen thief, she had heard plenty of rants about that sort of thing before from Jello.

“Well, he was only the most successful thief to ever live. He was active from the 60s to the 00s, do you know how long that is? He didn’t even stop cause he was caught, he just…. Disappeared.” Jello spoke excitedly while waving their hands enough that Angie had to lean forward more so as to not get caught in the crossfire. “He was mostly active across Europe but there are allegedly some cases of him traveling all across the world, I wish I could have been alive when he was still stealing but he stopped right around the time I was born, which is an absolutely awful coincidence, I curse God for it everyday… Why?” Jello seemed to finally realize Angie randomly asking about a famous thief from decades ago was odd, as they turned to her and raised an eyebrow. Or at least tried to, they couldn’t seem to get only one to raise.

“Well.” Angie held up the book which was adorned with a silhouette of a formally dressed men wearing a mask, “I think your Granddad was Geist.” She dug through the box for a second before holding up the mask the figure was wearing on the cover, a venetian style bauta mask that look old but well maintained.

“I think I need to sit down for a second.” Jello almost fell on the their way down, Angie joined them on the ground for solidarity, “Okay so. Nonno is Geist.” Angie nodded along, “And he is passing this title down to me, to us.” Angie nodded again, “I think I need 5 to 10 business days to process this.” Angie snorted.

“I’ll give you 20 minutes, this attic is stuffing up my nose.” Angie acquiesced and Jello nodded at what they were being given. They immediately collapsed face down into Angie’s lap, she patted their head in comfort. She was honestly impressed they didn’t explode, just completely blown to bits scattered across the room the moment they processed what they were being told.

Angie ran her finger through her friend’s hair, attempted to untangle the curly black mess residing on their head while she waited for them to become functional again. She let herself think for a moment about what this whole gentlemen thief thing would entail, probably crime but that wasn’t really a big hurdle for her. She’d been friend’s with Jello long enough to have broken into a few buildings for the sake of exploring, and she knew that she was the only reason they hadn’t been caught yet. That and calling Adam to pick them up a few times before she could drive. She remembered one time where they’d only known Adam for a few months and him being Jello’s new brother was still a bit of a rough subject for them but the two of them got locked in somewhere on accident and there was only one person she knew they could call. Then sure enough, Adam came rolling down the street to free them in full drag since apparently they had called in the middle of a show and the three of them agreed to never talk about it again. That was a lie since it came up at least once a month. Thinking about it now, it was sweet of him to drop everything to help even if she framed it like that both of them would deny that that was what happened. Idiots the both of them. Although speaking of idiots, it seems Thing 1 was finally alive again.

“We need more people if we we’re doing this.” Jello sat straight up only barely dodging knocking their head on Angie’s chin, “And we are doing this.” Despite their words Jello looked over at Angie for confirmation.

“That we are.” Angie confirmed, “No idea who you want to ask though, it’s not like you talk to people besides me. Unless you suddenly got busy after I graduated?”

“I talk to people!” Jello wave Angie off who had her doubts about their claim, “Wasn’t there some other junk in here?” They asked as they scoured the box some more, and held a stack of business cards held together by twine up in victory.

Jello untied the stack apparently forgetting that doing so would send cards drifting off all over the room, which is exactly what happened. Thankfully Angie managed to grab one of them before they scattered to every corner of the room. Angie inspected the card to find it was for a local mask artist, probably the person responsible for the original Geist mask that had gotten moved onto the floor. One of them should probably move that… It seemed old and expensive.

“What is it?” Jello popped behind Angie, an action that would have made her jump if she wasn’t used to their antics by now.

“Business card for a mask guy,” Angie gestured towards the now scattered cards, “These are presumably all of your Granddad’s old contacts.” Angie flipped over the card to see a handwritten message on it about the artist wanting to help Geist in the future, sounded useful to say the least.

“Ohh coool…” Jello trailed off as they started trying to gather up some more of the cards, Angie made a note to herself to buy a folder or something for all these. It seemed better then trusting Jello to not do this exact same thing again.

“Not very helpful for finding people to help as directly though.” Jello spoke up again after they had apparently decided they had collected enough cards for now, which they were now shuffling in their hands like playing cards.

“Why?” Angie raised an eyebrow, an act that Jello immediately tried to copy seemingly still upset about their earlier failed attempt to do so. It still wasn’t quite working.

“They’re probs all old geezers by now. Their knees couldn’t handle it.” Jello shrugged and shook their head, “We need someone around our age who’d be willing to help us with some most likely very illegal activities.”

“I suppose we do need someone else for that, two people isn’t enough for a proper group of thieves.” Angie tried to think on the people she knew, unfortunately despite graduating high school three years ago now, she hadn’t actually gotten to know anyone that much still. Turns out the only person you hang out with being your childhood friend two years your junior will do that to you. Not to mention that it was the summer and classes weren’t running at the moment so it’d be pretty weird for her to ask any of her school friends about something.

“How many people do we actually need?” Angie stopped her thinking to ask.

“4 to 5 I think? 4 consistent people then a love interest that switches out every new movie or season.” Jello thought to themself for a second before answering.

“I can’t imagine you getting that many people interested in you.” Angie stifled a laugh at the idea, she couldn’t remember her friend going on a date once in their life.

“Hey! I could if I wanted to!” Jello crossed their arms and pouted at Angie before cracking, their face bursting into a smile. A big grin crossed both of their faces and they bumped their shoulders into each other.

“Maybe I’ll be the one with the rotating love interests. I could do it.” Angie’s voice had the undertone of laughter as she spoke, even she knew that was unlikely but damn could a girl dream.

“Mhmm…. Sure you could.” Jello humoured her before laughing at her in the face.

“Okay. Okay. 4 people. We can do that, we already have 2.” Angie tried her best to get them back on track, a task she was thankfully succeeding in.

“Yeah! We’re already half-way there.” Jello seemed to be already patting themself on the back for that, as if they hadn’t just arbitrarily decided a number of people they needed for thievery.

“You know who we could ask?” Angie asked after a second, her brain suddenly striking gold. A gold that she wasn’t sure yet if she was happy with.

“Who?” Jello asked, their brows furrowed. An eyebrow focuses expression they could actually perform.

“Your brother.”

#don't expect a chap 2 anytime soon im writting scenes out of order now cause turns out idk how to write adam pov #this isn't edited so uhh yeahh #i was planning on editing it at least a bit before posting which is why it took this long but dont feel like it atm #klepto talks to himself #klepto rants about ocs #klepto's writing tag #geist ii [oc]

2 notes · View notes

fanf1ctionwrit1n · 2 years

Text

Captain America: The Winter Soldier

Sam sits against a tree, catching his breath, and Steve walks over to him.

“Need a medic?” Steve questioned, and Sam laughed,

“I need a new set of lungs. Dude, you just ran like 13 miles in 30 minutes.” Sam replied.

“I guess I got a late start.”

“Oh, really? You should be ashamed of yourself. You should take another lap.” Sam hesitates for a moment, “Did you just take it? I assumed you just took it.” He stated sarcastically.

“What unit you with?”

“58, Pararescue. But now I'm working down at the VA. Sam Wilson.”

“Steve Rogers.”

“Yeah I kind of put that together. Must have freaked you out coming home after the whole defrosting thing.”

“It takes some getting used to. It's good to meet you, Sam.”

- - -

Steve gets a text, and looks back up to Sam, “Alright, Sam, duty calls. Thanks for the run. If that's what you wanna call running.” They shake hands,

“Oh, that's how it is?”

“Oh, that's how it is.”

Sam laughs, “Okay. Any time you wanna stop by the VA, make me look awesome in front of the girl at the front desk, just let me know.”

Steve Rogers: “I'll keep it in mind.”

Sam Wilson: “Okay.” Natasha pulls up in her car by the curb and rolls down the window,

“Hey, fellas. Either one of you know where the Smithsonian is? I'm here to pick up a fossil.”

Steve Rogers: That's hilarious.

- - -

Flying over the Indian Ocean Steve, Natasha, and y/n are with SHIELD agents, led by Brock Rumlow.

“The target is a mobile satellite launch platform: The Lemurian Star. They were sending up their last payload when pirates took them, 93 minutes ago.” Rumlow stated.

“Any demands?” Steve questioned.

“A billion and a half.”

“Why so steep?” You pondered.

“Because it's SHIELD's.” Rumlow responded.

“So it's not off-course, it's trespassing.” Steve stated.

”I'm sure they have a good reason.” Natasha replied.

“You know, I'm getting a little tired of being Fury's janitor.”

“Relax, it's not that complicated.”

“How many pirates?”

“Twenty-five, top mercs, led by this guy. Georges Batroc.” Rumlow responded. He shows you guys a photo of Batroc on the monitor.

“Ex-DGSE, Action Division. He's at the top of Interpol's Red Notice. Before the French demobilized him, he had thirty-six kill missions. This guy's got a rep for maximum casualties.” You stated.

“And you just happened to know this off the top of your head?” Natasha questioned.

“Well I'm not hot like you, so I rely more on my brain.”

“Did you just call me dumb?”

“No, I called you hot.”

“Hostages?” Steve questioned, ending you and Natasha’s conversation.

“Uh...mostly techs. One officer, Jasper Sitwell.” He pulls up Sitwell's photo on the monitor. “They're in the galley.”

“What's Sitwell doing on a launch ship? Alright, I'm gonna sweep the deck and find Batroc. Nat and y/n, you'll kill the engines and wait for instructions. Rumlow, you sweep aft, find the hostages, get them to the life-pods, get 'em out. Let's move.”

“STRIKE, you heard the Cap. Gear up.” As you're all getting ready to dive off the jet, Steve speaks into his radio. “Secure channel seven.”

- - -

After jumping out the jet, Steve dives into the ocean and climbs onto the ship, beating everyone on the deck before anyone raises the alarm. He's interrupted by one of the pirates pointing his gun at him

“Bouge pas! Bouge pas. (Don't move! Don't move.)” He's shot dead by Rumlow as he lands on the deck behind Steve.

“Thanks.”

“Yeah. You seemed pretty helpless without me.” You and Natahsa parachute down onto the deck to join them.

“What about the nurse that lives across the hall from you? She seems kind of nice.”

“Her? She seems kinda like a bitch.” You stated.

“Secure the engine room, then find me a date.” Steve responded. You rolled your eyes,

“I'm multitasking.” Natasha claimed. You and Natasha jump down to the lower deck.

- - -

“Well, this is awkward.” Natasha states, and you glance over at Steve.

“What are you doing?” He questions.

“Backing up the hard drive. It's a good habit to get into.”

“Rumlow needed help. EIther of you were perfectly capable, what the hell are you doing here?” Steve walks over to Natasha and looks at what she’s backing up.

“You're saving SHIELD Intel.”

“Whatever I can get my hands on.”

“Our mission is to rescue hostages.”

“No. That's your mission.” You stated.

“You're not even doing anything!” Steve shouted.

“I'm making sure she doesnt die! Yes, she's perfectly capable but,” You took a pause before whispering, “I can't lose her.” Just then, Natasha finishes and pulls the flash drive out. As you and Natasha go to leave, Steve grabs her arm. You stop, not leaving without her.

“You both just jeopardized this whole operation.”

“I think that's overstating things.” You claimed. Batroc rises and throws a grenade at you guys before running off, Steve deflects the bomb with his shield, grabs Natasha and jumps through a window before it explodes, and youre following just seconds behind.

“Okay. That one's on me.”

“You're damn right.”

- - -

Steve walks into Fury's office, “You just can't stop yourself from lying, can you?”

“I didn't lie. Agent Romanoff and Agent Parker had a different mission than yours.”

“Which you didn't feel obliged to share.”

“I'm not obliged to do anything.”

“Those hostages could've died, Nick.”

“I sent the greatest soldier in history to make sure that didn't happen.”

“Soldiers trust each other, that's what makes it an army. Not a bunch of guys running around and shooting guns.”

“The last time I trusted someone, I lost an eye. Look, I didn't want you doing anything you weren't comfortable with. Agent Romanoff and Parker are comfortable with everything.”

“I can't lead a mission when the people I'm leading have missions of their own.”

“It's called compartmentalization. Nobody spills the secrets because nobody knows them all.”

“Except you.”

“You're wrong about me. I do share. I'm nice like that.”

- - -

As Steve is walking to his apartment he hears his neighbor talking on the phone as she goes to do her laundry.

“That's so sweet. That is so nice. Hey. I gotta go, though. Okay, bye.” She says, turning to face Steve, “My aunt, she's kind of an insomniac.”

“Hey, if you want...if you want, you're welcome to use my machine. Might be cheaper than the one in the basement.” Steve states.

“Oh, yeah? What's it cost?”

“A cup of coffee?”

“Thank you, but um...I already have a load in downstairs, and, uh...you really don't want my scrubs in your machine. I'm just finished orientation in the infectious diseases ward, so.”

“Ah, well, I'll keep my distance.”

“Well, hopefully not too far.” Steve nods and turns to head inside his apartment. “Oh, and I think you left your stereo on.”

“Oh. Right, thank you.”

“Yeah.”

- - -

“I'm sorry to have to do this, but I had no place else to crash.” Fury apologizes. He writes another text and shows it to Steve, ‘SHIELD compromised’.

“Who else knows about your wife?” Steve questions. Fury shows him another text, ‘You and me’.

“Just...my friends.”

“Is that what we are?”

“That's up to you.” Suddenly Fury is shot and collapses, Steve looks out the window for the shooter before quickly dragging Fury to the next room. Before he leaves Fury hands him the flash drive. “Don't...trust anyone…” Fury passes out. Steve hears someone entering his apartment and hears his neighbor calling out to him.

“Captain Rogers?” Steve sees her walking in, gun pointed, “Captain, I'm Agent 13 of SHIELD Special Service.”

“Kate?”

“I'm assigned to protect you.”

“On whose order?” She sees Fury lying on the ground, injured,

“His.” She goes to Fury then contacts SHIELD through her radio, “Foxtrot is down, he's unresponsive. I need EMTs.”

“Do you have a twenty on the shooter?” The agent asked. Steve notices the shooter through the window.

“Tell him I'm in pursuit.” Steve smashes through his window, running after the assassin. Steve chases him through an office building, smashing through walls and doors. Once he catches up with the assassin on the rooftop, he throws his shield. The assassin catches it with one swift move, and then throws it back to Steve before jumping down and disappearing from his sight.

- - -

Natasha goes to the hospital and meets up with you and Steve, watching as the doctors operate on Fury.

“Is he gonna make it?” She questions, leaning into you.

“I don't know.” You replied, your voice barely a whisper.

“Steve. Tell me about the shooter.”

“He's fast and strong. Had a metal arm.” Agent Hill joins them, Natasha lips parted, her eyes flashing with recognition but quickly masking it as she knows exactly who Steve was talking about.

“Ballistics?” You question.

“Three slugs, no rifling. Completely untraceable.” Agent Hill said.

“Soviet-made.” Natasha stated.

“Yeah.” They watch in shock as Fury's state suddenly deteriorates.

- - -

“Don't do this to me, Nick. Don't do this to me.” Natasha stated. You all watch the doctors, continuing to revive Fury, but he’s still flatlining. Steve turns away as they finally call the time of death.

“What's the time?” The doctor questioned.

“1:03, Doctor.” The female nurse informed them.

“Time of death, 1:03 a.m..” The doctor clarified. Steve looks down at the flash drive Fury had given him.

- - -

You, Natasha, and Steve are in a room. Fury's body laid out, Natasha has tears running down her face, and Hill joins them.

“I'm so sorry.” You whisper to Natasha. She gives you a small smile, before leaning back into you. ‘God. why could you just tell her how you felt?’ you thought, ‘Oh right, she’s an assassin.’

“I need to take him.” Hill says. Steve goes over to you and Natasha.

“Natasha.” She doesn't respond, instead she tenderly touches Fury's head, and walks out. You and Steve follow behind. “Natasha!”

“Why was Fury in your apartment?”

“I don't know.” Then Rulmow walks in, “Cap, they want you back at SHIELD.”

“Yeah, give me a second.”

“They want you now.”

“Okay.” Steve turns to Natasha

“You're a terrible liar.” She says before walking off. You hesitate, debating on if you were to follow Steve, or follow Natasha. You opt for following Natasha.

“Y/n!” Steve called.

“What?” You questioned, facing Steve again.

“Why do you always stick with Natasha? It could be anyone, but you chose her.” You look in the direction Natasha went, making sure she wouldn't hear.

“Love.” You walked off before he could respond.

- - -

“What's on this drive?” Steve questioned

“Project Insight requires insight. So I wrote an algorithm.” Dr. Arnim Zola informed them.

“What kind of algorithm? What does it do?” Natasha questioned.

“The answer to your question is fascinating. Unfortunately, you shall be too dead to hear it.” The doors start to close, Steve throws his shield in an attempt to stop it, but he's too late.

“Steve, we got a bogey. Short range ballistic. 30 seconds tops.”

“Who fired it?” He asked.

“S.H.I.E.L.D.”

“I am afraid I have been stalling, Captain. Admit it, it's better this way. We're both of us...out of time.” Dr. Arnim Zola stated. Steve notices a small opening on the ground, he throws the metal door aside and just as the place explodes he throws himself and Natasha into the hole and protects them with his shield. He manages to get them out from under the building rubble just as STRIKE agents arrive to roam the area for them.

Rumlow arrives at the scene, noticing a footprint in the dust. “Call in the asset.” He stated.

- - -

At his home, Pierce goes to his kitchen to get a drink when he sees the Winter Soldier sitting behind him with his gun on the table when his housekeeper calls out.

“I'm going to go, Mr. Pierce. You need anything before I leave?” Renata questioned

“No. Uh...it's fine, Renata, you can go home.” Pierce responded.

“Okay, night-night.”

“Good night.” Renata leaves, “Want some milk?” The Winter Soldier doesn't reply. “The timetable has moved. Our window is limited. Two targets, Level Six.” He pours himself a glass of milk and then joins the Winter Soldier at the table. “They already cost me Zola. I want confirmed death in ten hours.” Renata interrupts them as she enters the kitchen.

“Sorry, Mr. Pierce, I...I forgot my phone.” She notices the Winter Soldier.

“Oh, Renata. I wish you would have knocked.” He picks up the gun from the table and shoots her.

- - -

Returning home from his morning run Sam hears a knock at his door, he opens the door to see Steve and Natasha.

“Hey, man.” Sam greets.

“I'm sorry about this. We need a place to lay low.” Steve states.

“Everyone we know is trying to kill us.” Natasha clarifies. Sam pauses a moment before replying,

“Not everyone.” Sam let's them enter. Later that night, as Steve and Natasha are cleaning up, Steve notices Natasha with a pensive look on her face.

“You okay?”

“Yeah.”

“What's going on?”

“When I first joined SHIELD, I thought I was going straight. But I guess I just traded in the KGB for HYDRA. I thought I knew whose lies I was telling, but...I guess I can't tell the difference anymore.”

“There's a chance you might be in the wrong business.” Natasha smiles faintly,

“I owe you.”

“It's okay.”

“If it was the other way around, and it was down to me to save your life, and you be honest with me, would you trust me to do it?”

“I would now. And I'm always honest.”

“Well, you seem pretty chipper for someone who just found out they died for nothing.”

“Well, I guess I just like to know who I'm fighting.”

“I made breakfast. If you guys...eat that sort of thing.” Sam says.

- - -

“Natasha?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you have feelings for y/n?”

“I- uh,” she hesitates, “The question is, who in SHIELD could launch a domestic missile strike?

“Pierce.”

“Who happens to be sitting on top of the most secure building in the world.”

“But he's not working alone, Zola's algorithm was on the Lemurian Star.”

“So was Jasper Sitwell.”

“So, the real question is: how do the two most wanted people in Washington kidnap a SHIELD officer in broad daylight?”

“The answer is: you don't. Sam states, dropping a file in front of Steve.

“What's this?”

“Call it a resume.” Natasha picks up a photo of Sam with his pararescue team.

“Is this Bakhmala? The Khalid Khandil mission, that was you.” She looks at Steve, “You didn't say he was a pararescue.” They look at the photo of Sam with his colleague,

“Is this Riley?” Steve questioned.

“Yeah.”

“I heard they couldn't bring in the choppers because of the RPGs. What did you use, a stealth chute?” Natasha asked.

“No. These.” Sam said, handing Steve a file. Steve proceeds to open and read the file,

“I thought you said you were a pilot.”

“I never said pilot.”

“I can't ask you to do this, Sam. You got out for a good reason.”

“Dude, Captain America needs my help. There's no better reason to get back in.”

“Where can we get our hands on one of these things?”

“The last one is at Fort Meade, behind three guarded gates and a twelve-inch steel wall.” Steve looks at Natasha who simply shrugs.

“Shouldn't be a problem.” Steve throws down the file on the table.

- - -

After their meeting is over, Sitwell walks out of the building with Senator Stern.

“Should I get it checked?” Senator Stern asked.

“I think you should.” Stern walks away before Sitwell gets a call from Pierce. He turns to his men, “I need a minute. Bring the car around.” His men leave and Sitwell answers the phone, “Yes, sir?”

“Agent Sitwell, how was lunch? I hear the crab cakes here are delicious.” Sam states.

“Who is this?”

“The good looking guy in the sunglasses, your ten o'clock.” Sitwell looks around but doesn't see him, “Your other ten o'clock.” He turns the other way, noticing Sam sitting a few feet away from him. “There you go.”

“What do you want?”

“You're gonna go around the corner, to your right. There's a gray car, two spaces down. You and I are gonna take a ride.”

“And why would I do that?”

“Because that tie looks really expensive, and I'd hate to mess it up.” Sitwell looks down at his tie and sees a small red light from the gun being pointed at him.

- - -

The Winter Soldier lands on the car roof, pulls Sitwell out through the window and throws him into the oncoming traffic, killing him. He starts to shoot at you guys until Steve pulls the brake handle making the Winter Soldier drop down onto the street. Another car smashes into the car and pushes you guys along, the Winter Soldier jumps back onto their car, smashes through the windscreen and pulls out the steering wheel.

“Shit!” Sam cursed. You and Natasha start shooting at him but the Winter Soldier jumps onto the vehicle behind you guys, as the car is being pulled off the road Steve holds on to the car door.

“Hang on!” he breaks open the door, holding onto you, Natasha and Sam, we slide on the car door through the streets.

- - -

The Winter Soldier briefly takes Steve's shield, and throws it at him, and Steve manages to avoid being hit. Eventually, Steve manages to stop the Winter Soldier's arm, and throws him away, his mask falling off in the process. He lands, and looks at Steve.

“Bucky...?”

“Who the hell is Bucky?” - - -

Eventually, you hear sirens, and are surrounded by HYDRA agents moments later.

“Drop the shield, Cap! On your knees! Get on your knees! Now! Get down! Get down!” Rumlow demands and Steve holds his hands up.

- - -

“It was him. He looked right at me like he didn't even know me.” Steve stated.

“How's that even possible?” Sam questioned, “It was like seventy years ago.”

“Zola. Bucky's whole unit was captured in '43, Zola experimented on him. Whatever he did helped Bucky survive the fall. They must have found him and…”

“None of that's your fault, Steve.” Natasha chimed in.

“Even when I had nothing, I had Bucky.”

You notice Natasha, bleeding from her shoulder, and look at the guards. “We need a doctor. If we don't put pressure on that wound, she's gonna bleed out here in the truck.”

- - -

“Mission report.” Pierce states, and Bucky doesn't respond. “Mission report, now.” he moves closer to Bucky and strikes him hard in the face.

“The man on the bridge…” Bucky starts, “Who was he?”

“You met him earlier this week on another assignment.”

“I knew him.” Pierce sits in front of Bucky,

“Your work has been a gift to mankind. You shaped the century, and I need you to do it one more time. Society is at a tipping point between order and chaos. Tomorrow morning we're gonna give it a push. But, if you don't do your part, I can't do mine, and HYDRA can't give the world the freedom it deserves.”

“But I knew him.” Pierce turns to the scientists,

“Prep him.”

“He's been out of cryo-freeze too long.” One of the scientists informs him.

“Then wipe him and start over.”

- - -

Steve and Sam make their way to the Helicarriers. “Hey, Cap, how do we know the good guys from the bad guys?” Sam questioned.

“If they're shooting at you, they're bad.” Steve replied. Sam flies off and Steve heads down, the HYDRA agents start shooting at them, and Sam flies around avoiding getting shot.

“Hey, Cap, I found those bad guys you were talking about.”

“You okay?”

Sam flies off as the HYDRA agents continue to shoot at him, “I'm not dead yet.”

Pierce watches from the window the commotion caused by Steve and Sam trying to stop the helicarriers launching, he turns to Singh.

“Let me ask you a question. What if Pakistan marched into Mumbai tomorrow, and you knew that they were gonna drag your daughters into a soccer stadium for execution?” Pierce hands Singh a glass of champagne, “And you could just stop it with a flick of the switch. Wouldn't you? Wouldn't you all?”

“Not if it was your switch.” Singh replies, and tosses the glass aside. One of the HYDRA agents hands Pierce his gun and he points it at Singh, suddenly Hawley kicks Singh away, then takes down the other HYDRA agents in the room before taking the gun and pointing at Pierce, she then removes her disguise to reveal it's Natasha]

Natasha Romanoff: I'm sorry. Did I step on your moment?

- - -

“People are gonna die, Buck. I can't let that happen.” Steve said. Bucky stares at him coldly. “Please, don't make me do this.”

Seeing Bucky won't back down, Steve throws his shield at him. As they fight, Steve manages to bring up the targeting blade system, but as Bucky attacks him the chip falls from Steve's hand.

- - -

“You know me.” Steve states.

“No, I don't!” Bucky shouts, lashing out at Steve with a punch.

“Bucky, you've known me your whole life.” Bucky hits him again, and he chooses not to fight back. “Your name...is James Buchanan Barnes.”

“Shut up!” He hits Steve again.

“I'm not gonna fight you.” Steve takes off his mask and drops his shield out of the Helicarrier. “You're my friend.” Bucky charges at Steve, throwing him down to the ground.

“You're my mission.” He punches Steve in the face 6 times.

“YOU'RE. MY. MISSION!”

“Then finish it…” Bucky, holding his fist up, begins to hesitate. “Cause I'm with you...to the end of the line.” Bucky looks at Steve as if he's starting to remember everything that they've been through, but just then, the bottom of the Helicarrier crashes into the bottom of the glass dome, sending Steve down into the river below as Bucky watches while hanging from a metal bar. As Steve slowly sinks into the bottom of the river, we then see him being pulled out of the water and dragged onto the shore by Bucky before the latter turns and walks away from the scene.

- - -

“Do you solemnly swear to tell the truth the whole truth and nothing but the truth?” the bailiff questioned.

“I do.” Natasha responds.

- - -

“I do.” You respond.

- - -

“Why haven't we yet heard from Captain Rogers?” The Committee General questioned.

“I don't know what there is left for him to say. I think the wreck in the middle of the Potomac made his point fairly eloquently.” Natasha responded.

“Well, he could explain how this country's expected to maintain its national security now that he and you have laid waste to our intelligence apparatus.”

- - -

“HYDRA was selling you lies, not intelligence.” You informed him.

“Many of which you seem to have had a personal hand in telling.” The Committee General responded.

“Agent, you should know that there are some on this committee who feel, given your service record, both for this country and against it, that you belong in a penitentiary, not mouthing off on Capitol Hill.” Scudder stated.

“You're not gonna put me in a prison. You're not gonna put any of us in a prison. You know why?” You questioned

“Do enlighten us.”

- - -

“Because you need us. Yes, the world is a vulnerable place, and yes, we helped make it that way. But we're also the ones best qualified to defend it. So if you want to arrest me, arrest me. You'll know where to find me.” Natasha stated.

- - -

“We've been data-mining HYDRA's files. Looks like a lot of rats didn't go down with the ship. I'm headed to Europe tonight, wanted to ask if you'd come.” Fury stated.

“There's something I gotta do first.” Steve responded.

“How about you, Wilson? Could use a man with your abilities.”

“I'm more of a soldier than a spy.” Sam responded.

“Alright then.” Sam and Steve shake Fury's hand, “Anybody asks for me, tell them they can find me right here.” He looks to his gravestone and walks away, you and Natasha joining Steve and Sam.

“You should be honored, that's about as close as he gets to saying thank you.” You told them. “Not going with him?” Steve questioned.

You shook your head, “No.”

He looks at the both of you, “Not staying here?”

“We blew all our covers, we gotta go figure out a new one.” Natasha stated.

“That might take a while.”

“I'm counting on it. That thing you asked for, I called in a few favors from Kiev.” She hands Steve a file, “Will you do me a favor? Call that nurse.”

“She's not a nurse.”

“And you're not a SHIELD agent.” You stated.

“What was her name again?”

“Sharon. She's nice.” Natasha stated. She kisses Steve on the cheek, and you feel a little jealous, and she turns to walk away. “Be careful, Steve. You might not want to pull on that thread.”

As you and Natasha walk away, Steve opens the file. While he does, Sam walks over to Steve.

“You're going after him?” Sam questioned.

“You don't have to come with me.” Steve questioned.

“I know. When do we start?”

Marvel: @arethosepotatoes

All: @sade-shark

#natasha x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha x y/n #stucky #steve x bucky #steve rogers #sam willson #natasha romanoff

24 notes · View notes