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polaroid15 · 3 years

Text

The Words I Never Said

Summary: “I am a scientist, Peter. You are an experiment. It’s the natural order of things, really, that I study you.”

“You’re insane. You have to let me go.”

“I don’t think you understand, so I will try to be more clear. I own you. My research courses through your veins. Your life is my property.”

Or, Norman Osborn kidnaps Peter, and Tony will do anything to get him back.

Read on Ao3 HERE :)

--------

Peter knows something is wrong as soon as Happy’s ID fills his phone screen.

He’s sitting on the edge of a rooftop, legs dangling fifty feet in the air and a half eaten sandwich from Delmar’s in his hand. Not even waiting to swallow, Peter accepts the call. “Happy? What is it, what’s wrong?”

At first, he’s met with an uneasy silence. His spider sense flares uncomfortably in response. “Why do you always assume something’s wrong?” Happy asks.

“Because something always is.”

Happy sighs. “It’s Tony.”

If Peter weren’t sitting, he would have fallen. He steadies himself anyways, leaning back as the cityscape below threatens vertigo. “What? What about him? Is he okay?”

The silence again. God, it’s killing him. Peter can hear his heartbeat in his ears. “Happy,” he stresses. “Talk to me. Is he okay?”

“As far as I know, he’s fine. I got a ransom call about fifteen minutes ago. Oscorp has him.”

Peter’s head is a top spinning out of control. He drops his sandwich and stands, too upset to stay stationary. He paces on the roof with his free hand on his head. “Oscorp? Are you kidding me? What- how the hell did this happen? What does Oscorp want with Tony?”

“It’s a long story. But listen- it’s not Tony that they’re really after, kid.”

Peter stops short in his frantic pacing, his spider sense flaring once more. “What is it then?”

“They want Spider-Man. They want you in exchange for Tony’s life.”

Peter can’t breathe, all the puzzle pieces clicking into place. Oh man.

“I’ll do it,” he says, though somewhere in the promise his confidence wavers. “Do you know where in Oscorp he’s being held?”

“No- Pete. Listen to me right now. God, I shouldn’t have called. You can’t just barge in there, okay? We need to strategize. Swing to the Tower and we’ll make a plan to get him back safe without putting you at risk too.”

“He could be dead by then!” Peter argues stubbornly. He spins on his heels and sees the top of Oscorp tower, barely visible through the New York skyline. “It’s me they want.”

Happy’s voice rises, and if Peter wasn’t so hyperfocused on his mentor’s safety he would hear the man’s raw concern bleeding through. “Peter. You are not handing yourself over to Oscorp. Come to the Tower and we’ll figure out a way. There’s a better way.”

“I can’t let him die because of me,” Peter whispers, because Ben already has. No more blood. “I’m sorry Happy. I’ll be careful. I promise.”

“Peter! Don’t you dare hang up-”

But he does, his adrenaline making it almost impossible to feel the sting of guilt that follows. After tucking his phone away, Peter sprints to the edge of the roof and leaps. He free falls and fires a web, swings, and prays that he won’t be too late.

-------

“He’s not going to come. I’m terrible leverage.”

“On the contrary, Stark.”

Tony flexes his arms against his restraints and grinds his teeth together until his jaw aches. They had called Happy. Made their demands. Spider-Man, in exchange for his life.

Peter.

“Whatever you think you know, you’re wrong. I hardly know Spider-Man. I built his suit. That’s it.” A lie. God, it’s such a lie. Peter is his kid. As close to flesh and blood as he’ll ever get. “He’s not coming, so you might as well put a bullet between my eyes while you still have the upper hand.”

Tony doesn’t know the names of the men holding him, only that Norman is behind it all. There are five of them all together, each one armed with an assault rifle and military-grade vests. The ringleader, and ugly man with a pierced lip, smirks at Tony’s suggestion. “If Spider-Man is half the hero he claims to be, he’ll come.”

It leaves Tony’s mouth dry, because it’s true. Peter will do anything to keep him safe.

And it scares the hell out of him.

“The hour’s almost up,” one of the men says. “If Spidey doesn’t show soon our heads are on the line.”

“He’ll show,” sneers the man with the piercing. “Be patient.”

Tony pulls harder on his restraints, but they don’t budge. Come on, Happy. Fix this.

Five tortuous minutes pass.

The elevator dings as the doors open, spilling orange light into the dimly lit room. It’s empty and the ringleader curses, raising his rifle to his eye. “Check it out,” he orders the man to his left.

Obeying, the accomplice moves quickly towards the open elevator, his heavy footsteps making loud echoes that reverberate through Tony’s head. The anticipation is overwhelming. Please don’t be Peter. Oh God, please don’t let it be him.

The doors start to close but the man reaches out a hand to stop the movement. Tony holds his breath, hands sweating and heartbeat threatening to jump out of his neck at what lies beyond. It’s the longest second of his life.

The man looks left, right. Then up. “Holy crap!”

The sound of webbing is enough to bring tears of panic to Tony’s eyes. He digs his nails into the chair and watches in earnest as the man falls back against the floor, his entire upper body encased in webs that keep him in place.

Chaos.

Before Tony has the chance to blink, Peter is swinging out from the elevator and shooting off webs. They hit and shatter glass, and Tony ducks as gunshots start to fire. He feels a rough hand in his hair that is gone a second later, a web hitting his assailant’s face and landing him flat on his back.

More gunshots. A window erupts into thousands of fragments.

Silence.

Tony jerks up his head, dizzy with relief when his eyes land on Peter. The boy is sprinting towards him, sliding on his knees and grappling with Tony’s bindings until they snap. “Oh my god! Are you okay? Please tell me you’re okay. I’m so sorry this is all my fault and I can’t believe they fell for that elevator trick-”

“Kid!” Tony interrupts, grabbing him at the shoulders and shaking lightly. “You can’t be here!”

“But-”

“They want you, idiot! Not me.”

Peter squirms away from his grip before turning his head sharply towards the staircase, a tic Tony has come to recognize as his Peter tingle in action. “More are on their way. No time to argue. We gotta go!”

Knowing better than to object, he allows Peter to help him to his feet and stumble towards the elevator. His legs are cramped and stiff from sitting in the chair for so long, but the adrenaline of keeping Peter safe stows the pain somewhere he can’t feel it.

Behind them, the door to the staircase slams open. There’s gunshots and yells and in the crescendo of the noise, Peter pushes him forward. The force of it knocks him off balance and he slides the last couple of feet into the elevator, landing awkwardly against the back wall. Peter scrambles in moments later, his breathing ragged. “Get the door!” he screams.

Tony fights to get to his knees and slams his hand against the button for the parking garage. Bullets tear into the metal as the doors close.

They make it.

“Oh thank god,” Tony exhales, sliding down the wall. “Nice moves, kid.”

“T-Tony?” Peter stammers, his back turned. Something in his voice makes Tony’s blood run cold.

“Pete? What is it?”

Peter turns slowly, his hand pressed hard against the base of his ribcage. Tony doesn’t need to look hard to know he’s bleeding. That he got shot-

“No. Peter-” Before he can finish, Peter collapses down to his knees. Tony moves faster than ever to help soften the fall, his hands moving on instinct to cover the growing warmth on the kid’s side. “This can’t- You can’t-”

“Sorry,” Peter murmurs. “There were too many. Didn’t mean to.”

“Obviously not!”

The elevator lurches horribly, the small space going dark as they stop. Tony curses loudly as the elevator fills with soft yellow emergency lights. Under his hands, Peter laughs. It’s delirious. “They cut the power. Smart.”

“Not smart!” Tony hisses. “Now we’re trapped.”

“Don’t say that,” Peter whines. “You know I’m claustrophobic.”

“Why did you come here? What the hell were you thinking?”

Peter gapes at him, eyelids drooping. “Are you kidding me? I just saved your ass!”

“No, you’re going to get us both killed!”

“That’s not going to happen!” Peter says, struggling to get up before moaning and collapsing back. Tony’s knees are sticky with what can only be a growing pool of the boy’s blood. He tries very hard not to think about it.

Tony pushes Peter’s head back, his touch leaving tiny smudges of red under the boy’s hairline. Fix this. Fix him. “Stay down Pete. Moving around is only going to make the bleeding worse.”

“Yeah, I feel that,” Peter wheezes. His face is about a dozen shades more pale than normal. “Must’ve- must’ve hit something important.”

The dark crimson spreads. Tony is three seconds away from a panic attack. “Side wounds bleed a lot. Just try and stay awake, alright buddy?”

Peter hums, his eyes hazy as they trace the four walls keeping them captive. “I hate small spaces.”

“I know. I’m sorry. This is all such a damn mess.”

“Couldn’t leave you,” Peter slurs.

“You should’ve.”

“If it were me, you would- you would have done the same thing.”

Through the dim emergency lighting, Tony sees Peter begin to shiver. He wonders if it’s from the shock or the blood loss. Maybe it’s some sick combination of the two. Tony presses his hands down harder against the wound and Peter cries out, his eyes rolling back.

“Hey, hey. Focus up kid. Don’t go anywhere. You want to save me? Then save me. You can’t do that if you’re unconscious.”

Peter’s eyelids flutter but stay stubbornly open, his chest heaving with laboured breaths. His lips are crimson. He looks up at Tony in a daze. “Never been shot before,” he murmurs. “Ben-”

“Don’t go there,” Tony interrupts, mouth going sour. “Don’t think about it.”

“Kinda- kinda hard not too.”

God, this kid.

The stain underneath Peter grows further, pooling underneath Tony’s shins. “Think you can web the wound? It’ll- it’ll slow the bleeding. Buy us some time.”

“Time,” Peter agrees, lifting a shaky hand. “Help me.”

Together, they seal the wound closed. It saturates quickly but holds, though for how long is uncertain. His hands are free now, covered completely with Peter’s blood. It’s impossible to look away.

“Hey,” Peter says, covering Tony’s hand with his own and pushing them down. As if everything around them has slowed, Tony meets Peter’s eyes. “It’s okay. Happy is on his way-”

The elevator lurches again, the emergency lights replaced by the regular ones. Both flinch against the brightness, the gore of Peter’s wound even more vivid and launching Tony’s heart into his throat.

“This’ll be a good story one day,” Peter says breathlessly, paling further as the webbing over his side begins to leak.

“You’re not funny, kid.” His hands are shaking too badly to do anything. He prays that whoever is waiting for them at the bottom is friendly, that Happy found a way to save them.

“I mean it,” Peter says, smiling up at him. Even with blood stained teeth, Tony can’t help the rush of fondness that washes over him. “Never a dull moment.”

“God, Pete. If you only knew how many gray hairs you’ve given me-”

“Gray hair is in right now. Very trendy.”

The elevator hits its destination. Tony turns his back on Peter to face the doors head on, his arms splayed out wide to protect him. “Look, kid. Whatever happens-”

The door springs open. Too quick. A dozen men stand waiting, their weapons trained to shoot. Peter gasps behind him as he struggles to get up, and Tony sacrifices a hand to push him back gently.

“We only want Spider-Man. This doesn’t have to concern you, Stark.”

Rage, hot and consuming rises up through Tony’s chest. “If you want him, you have to go through me.”

Peter makes a low noise of protest, words seemingly beyond him. He feels the kid’s weak hand circle around his wrist, his thumb slick with blood running what should be a comforting line across his pulse point.

“Whatever you say.”

They surge forward. Tony struggles and screams but it’s hopeless. There’s too many of them. He’s wrestled away from the elevator and dragged out into the garage. “Don’t touch him!” Tony spits, too desperate to breathe. He watches in horror as they swarm Peter’s body, grabbing his limbs ungently and extracting him. It leaves a gruesome streak of red.

“NO!” Tony fights. He fights with everything he has. Because it’s Peter. It’s his kid, and it’s his own damn fault that they’re in this mess to begin with. “I’ll kill you! If you touch a hair on his head, I’ll-”

Something hard slams against his forehead, stunning him. The world goes blurry as his body loses its strength. He pitches forward and sees Peter on the brink of unconsciousness reach out for him.

He already knows they’ve lost. He reaches back anyways.

A boot slams into his temple.

And then there’s nothing.

----------

“-ony.”

“-hear me?”

“Damn it.”

Static. Darkness.

“Give him some space!”

It’s a battle to stick to reality. For now, he’s blissfully unaware, concerned only with how difficult it is to open his eyes.

“Come on, boss. Now would be a good time to show some life.”

The voice is familiar. Safe. Tony tries again to climb out of the dark hole he’s stuck in and manages, by some miracle, to regain his sight. The first thing he sees is Happy leaning over him, his face pinched in worry. “Thank God. You still got all your brains?”

“Happy?” Tony mumbles, the static still hanging heavy in his brain. “What-” he turns his head, sees an impossible amount of blood, and nearly passes right the hell back out. Peter. Oscorp. “Oh my god. P-Peter. They have Peter.”

“Take it easy,” Happy says, using both arms to help support Tony in his struggle to sit. “You took a hard hit to the head.”

“Peter was shot. They- they took him.”

“Calm down, boss. We’re going to get him back.”

“No. No, Happy you don’t understand-” Hot blood. A red hand reaching out for him. “Oh Christ. I can’t- I can’t-”

“Yes you can. You can. It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay,” Tony gasps, his eyes stinging as Happy guides his head down to hang by his knees. He can’t see the blood anymore. It helps.

“He’s a tough kid. Norman’s an idiot. We’ll have him back in no time.”

“He’s just a kid, Hap.” My kid. “This is all my fault.”

“No,” Happy says, his hand squeezing Tony’s shoulder in feeble reassurance. “I called him. If anything, it’s mine. I should’ve known he’d swing over here guns blazing.”

Head still spinning, Tony tries to focus on bringing air into his chest. You can’t help Peter like this. Get better. Breathe. “He wanted to save me.”

Happy is quiet for a long time. Then, “he did save you.”

Tony squeezes his eyes shut. “He sure has a habit of that doesn’t he?”

Beside him, Happy nods. Tony catches him looking at the elevator with a look of foreign bitterness.

“Now it’s our turn.”

---------

Peter wakes up alone.

It’s disorienting and painful, his mind clouded and his stomach tied into nauseating knots. It doesn’t take him long to remember what happened.

He’s tied down to a chair, his hands cuffed tight behind him with something strong enough to keep him in place. Vibranium, possibly. Or maybe it’s just the blood loss making him weak.

Stifling a groan, Peter rolls his head until it rests on his chest instead of hanging back. He’s not wearing his suit anymore. In its place, a pair of medical pants and a loose fitting t-shirt. Trying hard not to dwell on the invasion, he realizes his mask is gone, which doesn’t surprise him but is scary nonetheless.

They know who he is.

The shirt is bloodstained, but barely. Rather they stitched him up or his healing factor kicked in enough to close the skin. Regardless, the wound stings. Peter tries to ignore it.

Certain he’s not at risk of dropping dead, Peter expands his attention to his surroundings. Another facility, by the looks of it. The walls are white and albeit a little worn down. Old lab equipment and machinery litters the perimeter in no particular order or fashion, suggesting he’s in some kind of storage room.

He tugs on his cuffs and thinks of Tony.

He should’ve listened to Happy.

Before his thoughts can venture farther the door to the room opens. Norman Osborn fills its space and Peter shrinks away, fighting once more with his restraints. He’s alone. “Hello Peter.”

Heart beating hard against his ribs, Peter tries not to show the fear he feels. He raises his chin. “You’re a monster,” he says.

Norman chuckles like they’re good friends catching up after many years of being apart. He steps into the room and closes the door behind him. “It seems, Mr. Parker, that the only monster here is you.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Of course I do,” Norman says, “because I made you, didn’t I?”

“My powers have nothing to do with you.”

“Lying will profit you nothing.”

Peter can’t decipher between his anger and his fear, a hate he didn’t know he was capable of burning low in the center of his chest. “What do you want with me?”

Norman’s eyes light up as if he’s been waiting for Peter to ask all along. With the gait of someone at perfect ease, he strays closer and leans against an old lab table. “I am a scientist, Peter. You are an experiment. It’s the natural order of things, really, that I study you.”

“You’re insane. You have to let me go.”

“I don’t think you understand, so I will try to be more clear. I own you. My research courses through your veins. Your life is my property.”

Peter feels his walls crumbling. He strains his wrists even after he feels his skin split underneath.

“I don’t belong to anyone. You’re sick and you’ll never get away with this.”

Norman comes up beside him and backhands him so hard that Peter sees stars. It’s more shocking than painful, though his mouth fills with blood.

“You are not in the position to be disrespectful, Mr. Parker.”

Peter spits the blood in his mouth at Norman’s feet. “Tony will come for me.”

“Oh Peter,” Norman says softly. He straightens, his long shadow covering Peter’s small form. “Tony Stark is dead.”

Peter’s insides freeze. He stops breathing. Norman slips his hand into his pocket and reveals a syringe filled with clear liquid. He continues to smile, seeming to enjoy Peter’s distress. “You’re lying,” he chokes when no other words come. Because it can’t be true. He doesn’t remember a lot after the elevator had opened. Only that they had dragged Tony away from him. But he had been alive, then. Alive, not dead.

“I’m afraid not. One of my men shot him in the head when he resisted. I suppose Iron Man was not as indestructible as we thought. Now, try not to squirm.” Norman slides the needle under the skin at his neck. Peter doesn’t even feel it, his body numb with shock.

“No. No. It’s not true. It’s not-”

A wave of dizziness hits Peter hard, more powerful than when he had been bleeding out in the elevator. In an instant, all the strength in his body disappears and his head lolls back against the chair. Through tunneling vision, he sees Norman smirk. “You should’ve done a better job at protecting him,” he says.

Tony. Hot tears leak down the sides of Peter’s face. His heart is going to beat straight out of his freaking chest.

It’s the last thing he remembers.

-------

“We need to find him.”

“Tony, calm down. Let the Doctor look you over.”

Tony squirms away. He feels like he’s trapped. “No. We’re wasting time! Osborn has Peter and he’s going to kill him-”

Happy gestures for the Doctor to step away. Looking conflicted, she nods. When the door closes behind her Happy kneels in front of where Tony sits and places both hands on his shoulders. “If Osborn wanted Peter dead he wouldn’t have taken him. He would’ve just killed him at Oscorp. We’ll find him, but you need to get checked out first. You’ll be no good for Peter in the state you’re in right now, you hear me?”

Though it should be impossible, Tony manages to nod.

Obvious relief colours Happy’s face. “I’ll get the Doctor back in here. Keep breathing, boss.”

Peter. Gone. His fault.

“Right.”

----------

The drug Norman had injected into him doesn’t last long. Peter wakes up strapped to a table, a blinding light pointed directly at his face and the shadows of scientists surrounding him on all sides. They peer down at him like he’s the most fascinating thing they’ve ever seen, bloody instruments paused in their hands as he struggles to get the cotton out of his brain.

“Amazing. Awake already. Inject him again, but double the dose this time.”

“No,” Peter moans, his voice nearly inaudible. He tries to move and can’t. “P-please.”

He doesn’t feel the needle. He doesn’t feel the pain. It’s almost more scary this way.

“Sleep, Spider. Let us do our work.”

His body is weak. Tony is dead. Peter doesn’t even try to hold on.

This time, he’s out for good.

---------

Tony gets three stitches in his head. It’s uncomfortable but nothing in comparison to the heaviness in his chest.

“Any luck with Oscorp’s records FRI?”

“My system does not detect any Oscorp facilities that are unaccounted for. Facial recognition and security camera data is currently underway.”

Beside him, Happy holds his breath. They’re on thin ice and Tony is two seconds away from knocking down every building in New York. “Double time, FRI.”

It’s been three hours since he lost Peter.

Tony doesn’t let himself think the worst.

--------

Peter is back in the chair.

Every inch of him hurts, the scattered pain somehow much worse than the intense localized agony of the gunshot wound. He refuses to look down at his body, to see what Osborn has reduced him to.

I own you.

Tony Stark is dead.

This time, they’ve gagged him. When Peter cries, he can barely hear the sound to his own ears. He feels like he’s falling down a steep cliff, unable to find purchase or stop his descent. For the first time since he’d been bit, Peter sincerely wishes none of it had ever happened.

Tony is dead and Peter has no one to blame but himself. He wishes they had more time, that he had told Tony the things he’d always wanted to but never had the courage to verbalize.

His stilted sobs make his side scream in pain. Peter loses his breath.

He hopes Happy is looking for him.

But maybe he doesn’t deserve it.

--------

It’s another long hour before FRIDAY finishes her search. “Boss, I have identified three probable locations for Mr. Parker.”

His relief is a dam breaking open in his chest. “What’s the most probable?”

“Sending the coordinates to your suit now.”

It’s all he needs to hear. Metal encloses around his body and Happy sprints towards the car.

For the first time in hours Tony feels hope.

I’m coming Pete, he thinks. I’ll get you back.

No matter the cost.

--------

Peter is drifting when Norman comes back to his room, though from the drugs or the pain he isn't sure. The man drags in a chair this time and sets it in front of Peter, sitting comfortably with a manilla folder on his lap.

Without his voice, all Peter can do is glare.

“Now, now, Peter. There’s no need for such hostility.”

Go to hell, he tries to stay. It comes out as a pathetic jumble of words.

“Even gagged, you’re too mouthy for your own good. Speaking is a privilege, Mr. Parker. In time you will learn that.”

Tears well in Peter’s eyes. He blinks furiously to prevent them from falling.

“Congratulations on completing your first session. You truly are remarkable. The results my colleagues have shown me are almost too good to be true.”

Peter closes his eyes and breathes carefully through his nose. He wants this to be a dream. A horrible, terrible dream. Because if it’s a dream he can wake up. He can wake up and Tony will be alive. The pain will disappear.

“It’s funny, isn’t it?” Norman muses, “how this all came to be. A school field trip, correct? The chances are nearly impossible. It’s almost like this was meant to be.”

Peter stays perfectly still and quiet. Norman’s hand clamps around his jaw and shakes his head hard. Crying out into the gag, Peter tries to flinch away, but the man is too close. He can smell his cologne, which in reality probably costs more than Peter’s entire life. “You will look at me when I speak to you, understood?”

If Peter could spit in his face, he would. He jerks in his cuffs, his anger giving him the strength he needs for his defiance. Norman hits him for a second time. This time, in the eye. Peter has had enough experience to know it will swell.

“You’re lucky we still need you,” Norman says.

Peter glares, feeling sick enough to throw up as Norman pulls out another syringe. “Ready for round two?”

--------

The first location is a dead end. Tony checks it three times over to make sure he isn’t missing anything.

It’s been five hours.

“FRI. What’re the next coordinates?”

He doesn’t give himself the luxury to be afraid of what he might find.

--------

Peter wakes up screaming.

He doesn’t know why, at first. Only that he’s lying flat on a cold table, pinned and surrounded by strangers.

Then he feels the pain.

White hot. All consuming. Mind melting. It’s so intense that he doesn’t really comprehend where it’s coming from, or if he’ll be able to survive it. His muscles strain and stretch under the restraints, and then one of his hands breaks free all together. It lashes out, hitting the scientist closest and throwing him across the room. If Peter were more lucid he would hear the crunch of bone against the wall, or the yells of the others.

But he doesn’t.

His body clinging to freedom, his hand continues to fight desperately. He manages to hit away another scientist before three sets of hands press his arm down hard against the table. A sharp jab in his neck lets him know he’s been injected again. His limbs lose some strength, his mind fogging, but it’s not enough. Peter screams and fights. He cries.

Somewhere in the distance, a door is thrown open. Through the kaleidoscopic mess of his vision Peter sees Norman and cries harder. “S-stop-”

Norman’s hand closes around Peter’s neck and squeezes. “You don’t have a say over what happens to you. Do you understand? I own you!” He applies more pressure and Peter wonders distantly if his eyes will pop straight out of his head. “I. Own. You.”

Peter loses control over his body. His lungs stall in his chest. Only then does Norman let go, wiping his hand on his jacket. “Keep going,” he orders.

Peter is too exhausted to sob, darkness gathering around his vision. I’m going to die, he realizes.

Something hits his head hard, and he welcomes the escape with open arms.

--------

Seven hours. Tony’s tracked the three locations, all proving to be as useful as the last. His patience is slipping, his resolve shaken.

“FRI? I could really use a miracle right now.”

“Retrieving coordinates for the next location: an Oscorp storage facility in Staten Island.”

“Thanks. Send Happy the same.”

“Of course.”

Tony flies like his life depends on it. Because really, it does. If he loses Peter-

Stop, he chastises himself. Focus. It’s not over yet.

Fifteen minutes later, Tony lands hard enough to dent the cement under foot outside the storage facility. On the outside, his chances look bleak. Dark windows, no cars in the lot. “FRI, can you pick up any heat signatures?”

After a short pause, FRIDAY replies. “There are approximately ten heat signatures detected inside.”

“Oh god. Do any match Peter?”

“Yes, boss, it appears so.”

His legs turn to jelly. “Tell- tell Happy. I’m going in.”

“Sending a message to Happy Hogan.”

“Best point of entry?”

“The front door will be fine, sir.”

Tony follows FRIDAY’s prompts from the dark entrance to one of the building’s sublevels. Once close enough, he hears voices. Laughter, even. “FRI?” he whispers.

“The door to your left,” she supplies.

Tony wastes no time in blasting it off its hinges. Halted screams come from the smoking wreckage as Tony steps through. It appears to be some sort of staff room, a large group of men and women in lab coats sitting around a circular table. They stare at him with wide, disbelieving eyes.

“Spider-Man,” Tony demands. “Where the hell is he?”

No one answers. He fires a repulsor at the ceiling.

“Norman has him!” one of them yell, hands raised to shield her head. “Follow the corridor down to the end. You’ll- you’ll find him in there.”

Tony can hardly see straight in his relief. He backs out of the room, dislodging a drone from his suit to block their exit. “If any of you try to leave, this will shoot. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

He runs.

The end of the corridor.

Peter. Peter. Peter-

After confirmation from FRIDAY, Tony kicks down the door in question. His blood goes cold. Because it’s Peter- his kid- cuffed with his hands behind his back and a thick gag around his mouth. His head is tipped back, his eyes closed. He’s covered in so much blood that Tony has trouble seeing parts of him that are clean.

And beside him, Osborn.

He fires a repulsor at the man before his mind can catch up. It hits Osborn in the chest and he flies back, hitting the wall with a loud grunt and sliding down to the floor. Though painful, Tony steps past Peter’s lax body. He’s not sure if he’s awake. Or even alive.

“Wait!” Norman yells, raising his hands in defense. “You can’t- you can’t do this.”

“Like hell I can’t,” Tony growls, his palm growing hot. He raises it to Norman’s face. “You took my kid. You hurt him.”

“Peter’s life ceased being his own the moment he was bitten by my spider. I have the right to study him, to learn from what I created.”

“You’re an animal. I should kill you right now.”

“But you won’t,” Norman counters, his eyes glinting against the fire in Tony’s hand. “Because if you do, Peter will never forgive you. He’s good, Stark. Too good for you. And you know that.”

Tony clenches his jaw hard, his heart beating loud in his ears. He thinks of Peter sitting on a table in the lab, kicking his feet and laughing at a joke Tony had told. He thinks of the boy thumb wrestling with Happy and the cheesy birthday card he had made Tony last year.

“You’re right,” Tony says, lowering his hand. “I won’t kill you.”

Norman perks, his mouth curling.

“But you’re going to wish I had.”

And with that, Tony hits him across the face. Harder than he should. Osborn goes limp against the wall.

Behind him, Peter moans.

“Peter-”

Tony removes his faceplate and collapses at Peter’s feet. One of the boy’s eyes is open to a slit, the other swollen shut. When he connects with Tony his eyebrows draw together in confusion. Then, without further warning, he begins to cry.

“Hey, hey, woah. It’s okay kiddo. I’m here.” He reaches up and gently removes the gag from Peter’s mouth, the skin underneath it raw and chapped. “I’m here, buddy. Don’t cry.”

Peter doesn’t look any less comforted. He strains against his bindings. “Are you real?” he whispers, his voice cracked and strained. Only now does Tony see the dark bruising around the kid’s neck. The sight brings bile up his throat.

“I’m real,” he promises, reaching up his hands to card through Peter’s hair. “I’m here.”

Peter sobs again, going limp. Tony catches him against his chest and cradles him close. “They told- they told me they shot you,” Peter says. “They told me you were dead.”

Tears of his own well in Tony’s eyes. He presses his cheek into Peter’s hair. “I’m not dead,” he says, voice wavering. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Thought it was my fault,” Peter slurs. More of his weight dips into Tony’s chest as he goes quiet.

“Kid?” Tony shifts so he can see Peter’s face. His eyes are closed, his breaths short and laboured. “Damn it! Pete, can you hear me?”

Happy chooses this moment to arrive. He swings into the room, a pistol curled around his fingers and his eyes wider than Tony’s ever seen them. “Is he-?”

“Alive,” Tony chokes. “He was talking just a second ago. I don’t know what happened.”

“It looks like they tried to pull him apart.”

And it’s true.

“Call a med team. The police- the whole works. I need to get him out of this chair.”

“On it,” Happy says. His eyes linger on Peter in obvious distress before he flees from the room, pulling out his phone and barking out orders.

“Alright Petey. Hang tight.” Tony positions his limp body against the back of the chair, trying not to dwell on how unalive he looks. He ventures to Osborn’s body, retrieves a promising ring of keys, and returns back to Peter.

“I got you kid. I got you.” His hands are shaking too badly to fit the key in the small slot at the base of the cuff. He has to sit back on his heels and take ten measured breaths before he tries again. This time it works and Peter’s arms pop free.

Without the restraint, Peter’s body tips forward. With an aborted yell, Tony lunges forward to catch him. They end up in a tangled heap on the dirty floor, Peter’s head pillowed in his lap.

“Oh Pete. Oh god. W-wake up. It’s over now.”

Nothing. Above the bruises, there’s half a dozen needle marks in his neck.

“Peter? Come on, bud. Wake up.”

Wake up. Wake up.

He rocks the kid in his lap until help arrives, refusing even for a moment to let go.

-------

Peter realizes three things in quick succession when he wakes up.

First, it’s quiet, and the distinct lack of his spider sense is more than relieving. He’s safe, he realizes. Which two, means it’s over.

His vision struggles to keep up with his waking body but after a few long blinks the blurred medbay comes into sharper focus. He sees May’s purse, though she herself isn’t in the room. And with a stiff turn of his head, Peter comes to terms with thing number three.

Tony.

The man is slumped in a chair beside his bed, his head tipped back as he snores. The events of his rescue rush back into his head with such force it leaves him dizzy. Without further warning, tears leak out of his eyes.

Alive. He’s alive.

They both are.

As if Tony has a fifth sense of his own, he shifts in his sleep and his head dips. The jerky movement must be enough to wake him because within seconds, his eyes open. They connect with Peter fast, widening when he registers that Peter’s awake.

“Oh Pete,” he says, rubbing at his eyes and leaning forward. “What’s wrong? Are- are you okay bud?”

Peter lifts a heavy hand to wipe the moisture from his cheeks. “Sorry,” he whispers, trying for a smile. “Must be the drugs.”

The creases on Tony’s forehead smooth. He returns Peter’s smile, though some deep abiding concern rests in his eyes. “God, it’s good to see you awake. You gave us all a good scare.”

“Right,” Peter agrees, his strength already dwindling. He casts a sideway glance over at May’s purse. “Is she- is she okay?”

“She’s happy you’re safe. That you’re getting better. She just went to grab some food. She’ll be back real soon.”

Peter’s insides feel hollowed out. He thinks of Norman standing over him. I own you. “Oh. That’s good.”

Tony scoots closer in his chair. “How’re you feeling bud? Any pain?”

To Peter’s embarrassment, another tear leaks out of his eye. He catches it quickly and sucks in a shaky breath. “No.”

“You sure?”

Peter bites his lip. Stares at Tony’s worried face. “I really thought you were dead.”

Tony holds his breath and pulls absently at his fingers. “He was just trying to get in your head, Pete.”

“Yeah,” he laughs without humour. “Well, it worked.”

“Peter...”

“It’s just- the whole time I was thinking about everything I should’ve told you. When Ben died, I regretted- I regretted my last words, you know? Wish I said more.”

“Your uncle knew how much you loved him, kiddo.”

Peter swallows hard. “And do you?”

Tony blinks. “What?”

“Know,” Peter says, staring stubbornly at the wall. “That I love you? Because I never told you before and then it was too late. I was too- I don’t know. Scared, I guess. But I can’t be too late again. I have a second chance now and I want you to know.”

Silence. Peter can’t look. Maybe Tony got up and left-

Warmth. Arms circling his chest. Peter inhales sharply in his surprise, the tubes and wires hooking him up to the machines pinching. Oh god, he’s hugging me.

“I thought I lost you too,” Tony whispers over his shoulder. Peter is frozen. “When they dragged me out of that elevator and took you-” he chokes. “I thought-”

Peter closes his eyes. He’s tired and achy, his bones like lead under his skin. “I’m fine.”

“Let me finish.”

“Okay.”

Tony breathes in deeply, his chest expanding against Peter’s. “I love you too, Pete, is what I’m trying to say. So damn much. Since day one, really. And if you ever scare me like this again I swear I’ll lock you in a tower like goddamn Rapunzel.”

Peter’s glad that Tony can’t see his face. I love you too. Finally regaining strength, he wraps his arms around Tony’s shoulders to complete the embrace. It’s weak and broken but tangible. Real. “Thank you for saving me.”

“You did the same for me.”

They separate. Neither comment on their wet faces. “What happened to Norman?” Peter asks. It feels like his throat is closing.

Tony looks down at the floor. His hand had fallen from the hug to rest on Peter’s arm. He doesn’t let go, and Peter doesn’t want him to. “Prison. He won’t hurt you again, Pete. I promise you.”

He isn’t sure how the admission makes him feel. “Oh.”

His side twinges in pain. Something must cross over his face because Tony winces too, like the hurt is his own. “I’m so sorry, Pete.”

Peter leans back against his pillows, lightheaded all of a sudden, his energy far past spent. “I hate it when you apologize,” he murmurs.

“Pfft. Well, the feeling’s mutual.”

Peter smiles. He closes his eyes. “You gonna tap back out?” Tony asks gently.

He hardly finds the strength within himself to nod. Everything is catching up to him, a dark shadow of a nightmare. It’s over, he tries to remind himself. Tony is alive. May is safe. He loves you back. “Stay?”

“Always, Pete. I’m not moving a muscle.” As if to prove it, his thumb runs across Peter’s wrist, straight over the bandages covering the marks of his restraints. “You’re stuck with me.”

“Stuck with me too,” Peter slurs. He reaches out blindly until he finds Tony’s hand and grips it with as much strength as he can muster, which truthfully isn’t much. “Like a web.”

He drifts further, but is sure he can hear Tony’s quiet laugh, that he feels Tony’s lips press over his forehead.

“Go to sleep kiddo. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

And he will. Peter knows it.

Always.

#irondad #irondad fic #peter parker #tony stark #norman osborn #kidnapping #hurt/comfort #hurt peter parker #peter parker whump #protective tony stark #protective peter parker #tony stark acting as peter parkers parental figure #angst with a happy ending #gun violence

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blazedbakugou · 3 years

Text

you get hurt while saving him

Request: “hi may i request an angst to fluff scenario based around prompt 2 and like the reader is super nice to bakugou and has always been there for him but he's scared of falling in love so he pushes her away and is pretty mean and one day during a mission she saves him but gets pretty badly hurt in the process but it ends happy and with fluff ?? i love the way you write”

a/n: thanks for requesting and reading my stuff, that’s v cool of you

genre: angst with fluffy ending when do I not write angst

warnings: blood, severe injuries, hospitalization, cursing, aged up characters

word count: 1.2k+

pairing(s): katsuki bakugou x f!reader

prompt: #2 “Please say something. Anything at all. Just talk to me.”

“Please say something. Anything at all. Just talk to me.”

Bakugou’s voice came out in a panic, his eyes worriedly glancing around for any signs of help nearby. The sound of blood rushing in his ears drowned out the buzz of the city around him, vision blurred with tears that he struggled to keep at bay. You trembled in his arms, streaks of crimson trailing out the corner of your mouth and smudges of dirt covering your skin wherever your torn-up hero suit failed to protect.

“Come on... where the fuck are they? They should fucking be here by now,” the blonde grunted.

You choked out a measly response, “hey... it’ll be okay. I’ll be okay.”

Your hand grasped his bicep as tight as it could, though he could tell your strength was fading by the second. Sirens rang in the distance reminding you to hold on just a little while longer. Content with the fact that help was on the way, you allowed yourself to close your eyes and rest as your body so desperately craved despite Bakugou urging you otherwise.

- - -

Bakugou fixated on the off-putting white linoleum floors with a blank stare, thoughts running at a hundred miles per second. All this time he’d pushed you away, responded to your kindness and generosity with harsh bitterness. Only now did he realize how much of a fool he was for taking everything for granted. How stupid he was to act so brash when life could be so cruel to threaten to take away the one he loved in a split second. He should’ve said something sooner, somewhere calm with nice scenery— not in a hospital which reeked of disinfectant and anxiety.

He knew he was only lying to himself all this time. Pretending that he couldn’t see what was so obviously there, denying the fact that he cared about you. He loved you. Fuck, he loved you so much. Becoming a pro hero brought many changes in his life, he had to say goodbye to Friday nights at the diner down the street and settle for home-cooked dinners, he was no longer able to go for a walk at the park without being recognized, much less be able to have a day to himself without the stress of work coming back to haunt him. Becoming a pro hero turned his life around, but you always seemed to be that one constant in his life that kept him grounded.

Night and day, Bakugou thought of you and your stupid smile that always appeared right after you’d told some terribly cheesy joke. He was reminded of you wherever he went. It was annoying at first, suffocating even. No matter how hard he tried to avoid you, his efforts always fell short. At some point— he wasn’t sure when— he fell for you.

Every glimpse he took at your beat up body brought him painful flashbacks of how it all went down. He remembered the tightening of his chest when he found your limp body nearly lost in the sea of debris. The wait for the ambulance felt like it went on for an eternity and a half. He would’ve used his quirk to you to the hospital himself if it weren’t for the fact that you were in too far of a fragile state for such precarious means of transportation.

The steady beep of your heart monitor along with the ticking of the clock hung on the wall drowned out in the background as Bakugou held your hand in his— your hand felt so cold, so weak. Within the safety of your hospital room, he felt comfortable enough to spare a moment or two of vulnerability. In that vulnerable headspace, he took the time to figure out his feelings for you and accept them as they were.

Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Tick-tock.

Seconds turned to minutes and minutes turned to hours. He stopped keeping track of time but he vaguely noted the change of lighting outside your room, the world outside no longer bright and sunny but instead dark and gloomy. At some point, Bakugou had worked up the courage to rest his head on your shoulder, the stiff plastic chair he had been sitting in for the past few hours was causing his legs to go numb but he didn’t dare complain. How could he? He couldn’t complain about such minor issues when the love of his life was currently fighting for their life beside him.

It was the sudden pressure he felt on his hand that caused the blonde to snap his head up to look at you. His eyes searched for any signs of you waking up but he was only met with the same still expression you’d worn since they put you in your bed. Had he imagined it? No, he could’ve sworn he felt you squeeze his hand.

“Are you ready to confess your love for me or should I go through another near-death experience.”

“Huh?! You’re awake!” Bakugou jolted up out of his seat in surprise, his numb legs nearly buckling before him.

You weakly reached out to steady him before noticing his hand already grasping yours, “woah there, falling for me already?”

“Tch, shut up before I put you back to sleep.” He rolled his eyes.

“C’mere,” you scooter aside to make room for him on the bed, “you look worse than I do. Let’s take a nap.”

Bakugou huffed before climbing in beside you, being mindful to be gentle with you. He tried to slow down his heart rate before you noticed how fast it was beating but it was too late— you’d already made yourself comfortable on his chest. He only hoped you wouldn’t mention it which fortunately for him, you didn’t.

“‘M sorry.” The blonde let out in a whisper.

“Hm?”

“I said, I’m sorry. Don’t tell me that they gotta check your ears now too.”

“No, I heard you the first time. I just don’t know what you’re sorry for.” You frowned.

“Didn’t protect you like I should’ve. It’s my fault you got hurt, I should’ve been quicker.” Bakugou mumbled.

“Wasn’t your fault, don’t tell yourself that. It was their fault, not yours.”

A brief moment of silence followed after before he spoke again, “sorry for being such a dumbass.”

“Don’t apologize for something you can’t change.” You grinned.

“You’re making it very difficult to do this.” He sighed.

“Do what?”

“This.” Bakugou tilted your head up to face him and took a moment to look at you before kissing you.

Your lips felt drastically different than what he was expecting, they weren’t soft like they normally were, instead they were slightly chapped. Salty tears streamed down your faces, raw emotions finally brought to the surface after being repressed for so long. The reality of how close Bakugou was to losing you suddenly hit him all at once, causing him to pull you closer. Usually first kisses weren’t on a hospital bed and didn’t normally taste of blood and tears, however, given the circumstances, Bakugou couldn’t quite bring himself to complain.

Finally, you pulled away, “is this real or am I dreaming?”

“‘S all real… so fucking glad that you’re actually here.” He breathed out, resting his chin on top of your head.

“Wouldn’t wanna be anywhere else.”

“Good.”

“Nap time? I think we both could use some rest.”

“Yeah, sure but first… promise me one thing.”

“Hm?” He could already hear the exhaustion in your voice.

“Just don’t go dyin’ on me… understand, dumbass?” He huffed, rubbing his thumb across the back of your hand.

“Of course, Katsu. I promise.”

@combat-wombatus @sunflowersuki

masterlist // taglist open // requests open

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wordsablaze · 3 years

Text

16~ i’ll be here like you were

tell me your problems (i’ll chase them away) Internal scars can be difficult to deal with but Eskel vows to heal any that Jaskier is weighed down by if it’s the last thing he does…

A/N: it seems june is way too warm for angst so we get even more softness instead...

previous chapter

@random-nerd-3 @betaray-jones @w-s-kibela @in-love-with-writing002 @screaming-flapjacks @havenoffandoms @lasaga666 @mayastormborn @alllthequeenshorses @little-piece-of-tamlin @selectivegeekwithstandards

It’s not that Eskel had been struggling to maintain their seated positions or anything, it’s just that after Jaskier’s head had fallen into his lap for the second time, he’d decided that moving to the bed was a better idea.

And he’s right, because Jaskier wakes up with a yawn and a very confused noise, followed immediately by a quiet but hopeful, “Why isn’t my neck all stiff?”

“That would be because I moved you,” Eskel replies softly, but not softly enough to avoid Jaskier’s breath hitching as he realises his pillow is in fact a witcher.

Eskel expects the hitch in his breathing to be followed by him springing to his feet or something but Jaskier only yawns again and lets his head flop back down even as he stretches his limbs a little. “How very considerate of you, darling, thank you.”

There is a very very small part of Eskel’s mind that wonders why Jaskier hadn’t called him his darling as opposed to just generally a darling, but that small part is quickly squashed down by the rest of his intelligence reminding him that he really ought not to base his standing with the bard on something as trivial as groggy mumbling.

“Wait, why are you still in bed?” Jaskier asks after a moment.

“I didn’t want to wake you,” Eskel replies honestly.

“But you’re a witcher…”

When Jaskier says nothing more on the matter, Eskel frowns. He runs a hand through Jaskier’s hair - only to push it out of his eyes, of course - before nodding as best as he can whilst lying down. “I wouldn’t want to disturb you even if I were a goat,” he says.

Jaskier snorts, then pulls himself right and tilts his head to the right. “A goat? I can’t say I have much experience with goats but aren’t they more of a violent species?”

“And witchers aren’t?” Eskel asks, raising an eyebrow as he too sits up.

Waving a hand dismissively, Jaskier shrugs. “No more than necessary, of course. It wouldn’t do for a witcher to be incapable of violence, after all, whatever would I sing about in taverns then?”

Eskel hums in agreement but he’s pretty sure Jaskier could sing about something as mundane as apples and still captivate an audience. Speaking of, Jaskier seems to actually realise he’s awake as soon as he mentions singing and is on his feet before Eskel can decide whether or not to voice his thoughts. Ah well, maybe next time.

Turns out watching Jaskier stumble around and assemble himself is just as amusing every time he does it. It’s honestly also a little impressive how quickly he can go from sleepy and only vaguely coherent to more or less professional and composed.

“Well, are you coming?” Jaskier asks once he’s ready and dressed.

Eskel blinks. “Where?”

Jaskier smirks and opens his mouth, pauses, then closes it again. He clears his throat as he gestures towards somewhere through the window. “To the tavern?”

He shakes his head. “I should go check on Scorpion, maybe next time.”

“Of course! Scorpion, right, of course, your noble steed. I’ll just, uh- I mean, alright,” Jaskier replies, waving a goodbye before leaving with his lute in hand.

Eskel only briefly dwells on the feeling that he’s done something wrong before also getting ready, finding himself in the stables and being headbutted by Scorpion before he knows it. He looks around to make sure he’s alone before saying anything just to avoid the air being filled with ash and disappointment again. “Hey, girl. You’ve probably been worried, right? Well, it turns out the bard is more skilled than I’d assumed. But you probably knew that since you both got me back together, huh?”

He narrowly avoids having his foot stepped on.

“What was that for?” he asks incredulously. Scorpion just huffs at him. Then bites at his pockets, which is odd because he didn't actually remember to put any- oh.

“I guess you really won him over,” Eskel says as he offers her the sugarcubes, but now he’s torn between making sure she doesn’t bite his fingers and wondering how Jaskier knew to put treats in his pocket, not to mention how he did so without him noticing.

It’s not difficult to assume that’s a habit creeping in from all the time he’s spent with Geralt; Roach is one of if not the most spoiled horse on the continent. But it is difficult to decide whether he should ask Jaskier about it, whether it would be accepted gratitude or just another painful reminder. In the end, Scorpion finishes her snack before he’s decided, which is a little annoying because he’s usually not so indecisive about anything. Well, Jaskier is hardly just anything so that almost makes sense, but still.

“That’s my epic tale, our champion prevailed. Defeated the villain, now pour him some ale...”

Eskel frowns as he walks into the tavern, immediately looking for Jaskier to see if he’s alright. And surprisingly, he is. Not that Eskel would rather he wasn’t - and in fact he’s very relieved that singing about Posada isn’t causing any problems - but he has no idea how Jaskier suddenly seems more willing to accept that request. Gods, bards are confusing.

“Toss a coin to your witcher, oh valley of plenty!”

And someone does.

Eskel blinks at the little hand dropping a coin onto the table, the little hand that’s attached to a young girl who’s beaming up at him as if he’s saved her entire family or something. “You’re not my witcher but I wanted to give you a coin anyway,” she says loudly.

“Uh, thank you,” Eskel mutters, careful to keep his face angled just enough that he doesn’t scare her away and ruin her smile.

Not that he should have worried, because she very casually frowns at him, picks the coin back up, and pokes his leg. “Do you not like coins?”

He shrugs but politely holds his hand out, letting her firmly place the coin into it and offering her the best smile he can manage because he doesn’t really know why she hasn’t run off to her parents yet. “I do, it’s lovely. Thank you again.”

“Was the monster really scary?” she whisper-asks as she leans forward, her eyes wide and curious.

Eskel knows the women on the table behind him are listening in, he can smell that they’re suspicious of him, but they make no move to interfere so he just shrugs and leans forward too. “It was mostly just ugly,” he whispers.

The girl giggles and rocks back on her heels, shaking her head at him. “Like Uncle Luka?”

“Probably not, unless your Uncle Luka has green skin.”

The girl’s eyes widen again. She pauses as if she genuinely thinks her uncle might have green skin and then shakes her head. “No, he’s just the normal ugly. What kind of green was the monster’s skin?”

He genuinely has no idea how to answer that in a way she’ll easily understand. And thankfully, he doesn’t have to. “The kind of green you see after it’s been raining a lot and all the grass has been squashed into the bottom of a really big puddle,” Jaskier says, kneeling in front of the girl with a soft smile.

“Eww!” she laughs, turning her attention away from Eskel and towards Jaskier, who spares a moment to smile at him before producing a flower from nowhere and holding it up in front of the girl’s nose so she has to go cross-eyed to look at it, laughing harder as she does.

“A daisy for Daisy,” Jaskier whispers, winking at her.

The girl - called Daisy, apparently - all but snatches the flower, then turns on her heel and waves at him. “You can give the coin to your bard if you don’t like it, by the way. Mama says you should give things you don’t like to people who do like them so everyone’s happy.”

Jaskier snorts as she finally leaves and jumps up into someone’s lap a few tables away, but there’s a redness blooming across his cheeks as he slides onto the seat opposite Eskel. And Eskel’s not sure about his own face but he’s pretty sure he looks just as startled because he genuinely had not considered that being called Jaskier’s witcher would lead to Jaskier being called his bard.

“You don’t have to be,” Eskel blurts.

Jasker raises an eyebrow at him. “Be what, darling?”

“My bard.”

Apparently, the sour scent of worry and doubt never gets any easier to deal with. Eskel’s already lost any appetite he may have had by the time Jaskier remembers how to breathe and some of the sourness fizzles away from the air between them, just enough so that it’s not quite overwhelming.

“You don’t like that?” Jaskier asks slowly.

“No, I-” Eskel pauses, confused. “I thought you wouldn’t like it.”

Jaskier blinks at him. Twice. Then he sighs and lets go of his lute, placing it down beside him. “Don’t go anywhere, I need a drink before we have this conversation.”

Well, that sounds terrifying.

His only comfort while he waits for Jaskier to return is that he smells softer and warmer again, which can only mean they’re about to have a useful conversation instead of some kind of argument. Still, his muscles don’t relax until Jaskier places a drink in front of him and smiles, not quite sadly but not exactly happily either - it’s confusing but it’s a nice smile nonetheless.

“I believe you’re under the mistaken assumption that being my witcher is an unrequited belonging?” Jaskier asks eventually, leaning an elbow on the table and resting his chin on his palm.

Eskel shrugs. “Like I said, you’re free to leave whenever you wish.”

Jaskier laughs quietly, his head tilting a little to the right. “And what makes you think there’s anywhere else I’d rather be than by your very handsome side?”

“I just don’t want- I mean, I would hate to quell the adventures you seek,” Eskel admits.

There’s a moment of silence before Jaskier reaches across the table and curls his fingers in a grabbing motion until Eskel frowns and offers him his hand, which he immediately takes and gently squeezes. “Eskel, my darling, you are walking along a very dangerous path somewhere between painfully considerate and painfully foolish. And I should know, for I’ve been told I’m an expert at the latter.”

Eskel laughs before he can think about it and judging by the look in Jaskier’s eyes, that was probably his intention. “You’re not doing too bad right now,” he replies.

Jaskier shrugs. “I might not have lived as long as you but even I’ve been around long enough to learn when I’m overstaying my welcome.” Before Eskel can ask anything about that, Jaskier clears his throat and continues, “Let me explain this another way: name a tale of mine that you particularly enjoy?”

A little blindsided by the question, it takes Eskel a moment to think of what to say. But it’s not a difficult choice; there’s one ballad about a warrior who’d been entrapped by a wraith for days until his beloved had arrived to remind him what he’d miss out on if he succumbed to someone else’s misery that had been stuck in his head for almost an entire year. “The knight in the tower,” he answers.

“Interesting choice,” Jaskier tells him in a way that implies he’s made the right choice, then leans even closer, lowering his voice. “I’m going to let you in on a very small and privileged secret now: I based that entire story on Geralt accidentally locking himself in the wrong stable overnight one time.”

Eskel blinks. Then bursts out laughing. He bites down his amusement as quickly as possible but not before he sets Jaskier off, and it takes several minutes for the bard to stop laughing. Once he has, he grins widely, squeezing Eskel’s hand again. “Do you understand me now? I’m not in desperate need of the adventures you imagine me to be, I only require the slightest of inspiration and I can assure you that your company is more than enough.”

He thinks he does understand, but he also has another pressing concern: “So the knight’s beloved was actually…?”

Jaskier smirks and nods. “Roach.”

Melitele help him, he’s unfamiliar with this pleasant ache of amusement and he’s not sure how he’s lived without it for so long. As soon as they’ve both recovered from laughing, he squeezes Jaskier’s hand back. “I would be honoured if you were to… if you were to be my bard.”

“Luckily for you, then, everyone here already seems to believe I am. And I have no interest in disagreeing with them,” Jaskier says, his voice barely above a whisper.

“And everywhere else?” Eskel asks, just wanting, needing to check he’s understanding this right and not just wishfully extrapolating.

Jaskier shrugs. “I’m a bard , Eskel. I can guarantee you my songs will travel faster than we can and our reputation will precede us wherever we go.”

Eskel chuckles. “You’re placing a lot of faith in your songs, bardling.”

“Wouldn’t you, if you were me?” Jaskier asks, raising his eyebrows, and when he considers the dramatic tale of the wraith that had apparently been built upon nothing but an embarrassing story, Eskel decides he has no reason to argue. Besides, confidence is a good look on practically anyone and Jaskier is no exception so it'd just be rude of him to ruin that for the sake of it.

“Perhaps,” Eskel finally replies with a shrug, but he’s certain the smile that won’t leave his face gives him away. Not that he minds, if he’s honest, because it’s only logical for his bard to be the one who reads between his lines. And oh, what a scarily beautiful notion that is.

yes i used a random child to prompt character development, cliché is my middle name ;)

thanks for reading! masterlist | witcher sideblog: @itsjaskier | next chapter

#jaskel #jaskel fanfic #jaskier #eskel #jaskier x eskel #the witcher #fanfiction #slow burn #idiots in love #soft eskel #soft jaskier #they are slowly but surely getting there #we've reached 40k and they're only just getting somewhere #this would be a very slow paced novel oops #good thing it's a fanfic and i make the rules ;)#fluff #my writing #tmypicta

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superspookywombat · 4 years

Text

falling {j.h} chapter seven

Warnings: sexual thought (singular), slight swearing, sexual innuendo insult (towards jacob so it’s okay)

Taglist: Sleepy-whore geekysimmerthings mauvette268 treestarrrrrrrr kaleigh404 krazykatkay456 meganlikesfandoms darknacademia hi-my-name-is-riley vdtwsupernatural selmeuuh raindancer2004 wondersandtempests royale-trash-slytherin im-hella-bright bootylimpics livfg It-is-rebel-owl-ma-dudes peacemusicinch coffeeslut16 bvbwestfall Actuallyedythecullen stan-joonies Peacebuglove Millie-753 Frozenhuntress67 i-tried21 seaevans femflorals arseofrivia trashysara vulgarfuckinvirgo sleepysnapesnake hey-bulldogs mental-breaker-74 pansexual-and-eating-pancakes

Quick a/n: I’m still pissed about Jacob forcing himself on Bella and her not being able to defend herself. Like, I took it personally, so naturally y/n did too. Constructive criticism is always welcomed and appreciated :)

Red is all you see, the unbearable heat forcing your eyes closed. Flames lick at your skin as you try to walk forward, but you’re unable to move. Your body is frozen in place, and through the flames you can see an invisible barrier where they cut off. Outside that barrier sits your sister, along with Jasper, Edward, Doctor Cullen, Esme, and Alice. They watch you as you suffer, their faces broken with pain and guilt. Tears fall from your eyes as you scream out, the scent of burning skin and hair invading your nostrils. The fire overwhelms you until you can’t feel anything anymore, and you fall unconscious.

You jolt awake, stopping a scream from escaping your lips. Sweat beads down your back as you rub your arms, trying to soothe the burning feeling. Your face is stiff from dried tears, and your shirt is soaked in sweat. You glance at your sister sleeping peacefully, gibberish words falling from her mouth. You softly pad over to the bathroom and close the door, peeling off your damp shirt. You take off the rest of your clothes and watch yourself in the mirror as the water warms up. You clutch the edge of the sink, forcing yourself to stare into your own eyes. Tears spill from your eyes, but you wipe them away as quickly as they appear. You enter the shower, but as the hot steam touches your skin, you’re swift to turn the water colder. Your last day of school was here, but you couldn’t care less. Things with Bella had finally gotten on the right track, and now she was going to cart off to Alaska with Edward. The more you thought about it, the only thing holding you to Forks was Charlie (and Jasper but you weren’t ready to admit that, yet.) You had been toying with the idea of taking a gap year to travel the world, smoosh some experiences in before you fully settled down, but the thought of leaving Charlie by himself made your stomach churn.

After washing and shaving, you exited the bathroom and got dressed. Feeling energized by waking up so early, you pulled on a dress and blow dried your hair. Walking down the stairs, you peek around the corner to see Charlie drinking a cup of coffee at the table while reading yesterday’s paper.

“Morning, old man. Can I interest you in some breakfast? Maybe gourmet buttered toast and eggs?” You tease. He looks up, startled.

“It’s your last day, I should be the one making you breakfast.” Charlie says. You give him a small smile and grab the egg carton from the refrigerator. “Why are you up so early?”

Shreds of remembrance from your dream runs through your mind, but you shake the thought and keep a smile on your face. “I wanted to get a headstart on the bathroom before Bella hogged it.”

“Smart move.” He chuckles. You fry three eggs and you’re just setting out plates when Bella walks down the stairs.

“Hey, um, Edward, Jasper, and Alice are coming to pick us up in twenty.” She informs you and Charlie. You and Charlie nearly spit out your drinks simultaneously.

“Jasper?” You ask.

“Boys?” Charlie says at the same time. Bella rolls her eyes and grabs the bottle of orange juice.

“We’re adults now, dad. I think we’ll be fine.” Bella teases. Charlie points to your backpack and mouths ‘pepper spray,’ and you nod. You and Bella eat quickly, and Charlie watches you two in amusement. A knock at the door startles the three of you.

“Go, go!” Charlie waves you on. You open the door and Alice stands there. She bounds inside with a huge smile and engulfs you and Bella in a hug. You wrap your arms around her hesitantly. After letting go, she bends down and hugs Charlie.

“Good morning, Chief Swan.” She greets Charlie. He tries to scowl, but just isn’t able to resist Alice’s good vibes.

“How many times do I have to tell you, Alice. Call me Charlie.” He says with a gruff voice. Alice giggles then takes Bella’s hand and pulls her out the door.

“I guess that’s my cue.” You say, your eyes lingering on Charlie for a bit before following the girls outside.

As you approach the stylish SUV, Bella hops into the front by Edward and Alice opens the back door for you. You give her a small smile before sliding in the middle seat to sit in between her and Jasper. Your thigh brushes Jasper’s and you shiver. Images of his bare thigh brushing yours as you combine race through your mind. Your thoughts get interrupted by intense classical music blasting through the car.

“So.. are you guys excited?” Alice says brightly. Bella glances at you through the rear-view mirror.

“For sure. You only graduate once, right?” You joke. The whole car irrupts with chuckles, making you knit your eyebrows together and wonder why they found that so funny. You try to act as normal as you can while being in such close proximity with Jasper, especially after the moment you two shared a week ago on the couch. “I’m actually kinda nervous. I have no clue what the future holds for me, you know?”

“It’ll all be fine. Just remember that everyone else is feeling the exact same way. And I’m here for you.” Jasper says, his voice soothing your nerves. He hesitates placing his hand on yours, glancing at Alice before pulling his hand away. Your heart drops as he puts as much space between the two of you as he possibly can.

Edward pulls into the parking lot as you brace yourself for your last day of school.

---------------------------------

A few days later, Bella returns from an outing with Jacob. You go to the front yard, following Charlie after hearing yelling between Jacob and Edward.

“You did what?!” You’re blinded by outrage, your hands balling up into fists at the sight of Jacob watching Bella cradling her hand.

“You punched him, and- and- and you’re the one who got hurt?” Charlie outbursts with a loud laugh. You smack him, hissing a warning at him.

“I’m gonna kill him!” You yell. You storm into the house, running up to your room and grabbing your baseball bat.

“I didn’t even put a dent in him.” Bella scoffs, Charlie tries to lecture her on her form. You slam the door behind you as you stride out into the yard with the bat in your hands.

“Let’s see how much damage some metal does.” You spit. Jacob puts his hands up defensively and chuckles as Charlie practically tackles you. “Let me go! I’m gonna make that son-of-a-bitch wish his mother swallowed!”

“I’m going to take her to see Carlisle. Why don’t you come with us?” Edward offers. You look at him, then back at Jacob.

“Fine. But I’m bringing the bat.”

Doctor Cullen checks out Bella’s hand while you pace in their yard. You tighten your grip around your bat and you chuck it at a tree, your anger wavering at the sound it makes on impact. As you walk over to grab it, a voice behind you makes you jump.

“I’d hate to get on your bad side.” A southern drawl speaks. You sarcastically chuckle, reaching down to grab the bat.

“Who says you aren’t already?�� You say, pointing the bat at Jasper. He frowns, and you feel guilty for a second.

“I apologize for anything I did to offend you.” He says, and you can tell he’s sincere. You sigh.

“It doesn’t matter anymore.” You say. He continues making eye contact with you, making your knees feel weak under his gaze.

“Why are you upset?” He asks. You scoff at him and run your hand through your hair.

“Jacob! He kissed her-” You whack the bat on the hard ground. “-With-” Whack. “-out-” Whack. “-her-” Whack. “PERMISSION!” Whack, whack, whack. The bat falls from your numb fingers and you fall to your knees, sobs wracking through your body. Jasper kneels down besides you and gently puts his arm around you.

“Something tells me that’s not all.” He says. You look up at him through your tear-blurred vision.

“I- yeah. There’s just some stuff from my past that makes me, a little, uh, emotional on this topic.” You sniffle. His arm goes stiff as he processes what you just said. Another sob falls silently from your lips and you bury your head in his chest, embracing his scent as he wraps his arms around you.

#jasper hale #jasperhale #jasper hale x reader #twilight x reader #twilight #chapter 7 #edward cullen #edwardcullen #Bella Swan #bellaswan #charlie swan #fanfiction #fanfic

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writing-fool · 4 years

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mlqc | special kind of sadness

I’ve been having strange dreams lately. Maybe it’s because of the quarantine, or maybe because of my messed up sleep schedule. I don’t actually have severe nightmares, but somehow an idea for Victor + nightmares came up. It was going to be very short, so I included other types of comforting scenarios. Ahh...besides that, you might have noticed my url is writing-fool, right? It’s actually based off of a Korean song called Swimming Fool. But I think it fits with MLQC too, what with Lucien calling us ‘his little fool’ sometimes~ What a happy coincidence...

Love,

Warning(s): TW! Lucien’s scenario includes a panic attack.

Victor

You’re all about showing the world that you’re a grown woman with big girl pants on. You’re especially keen on proving to Victor that you can handle yourself, thank you very much. Even though he’s supposed to be your soft, loving boyfriend, he seems to grow stricter the longer you’re together.

“Really? You’re not capable of being a producer if you can’t even get these reports done.” Ouch. Your life doesn’t seem to be getting easier anytime soon.

So...you chalk it up as a grave, grave moment of weakness when you instinctively call his number at three in the morning, after waking up in a cold sweat. By the second ring, you regret your rash decision. What if he’s asleep? What if he thinks I’m some kind of weak child?

By the third, he answers.

“What. Why are you still awake?” His voice sounds as strict as ever. ‘Why are you still awake?’ is a question you would’ve asked if you were in a clearer mindset. Alas, this situation allows little clarity.

You decide against hanging up. I’m bothering him already, might as well apologise. “I-I must’ve misdialled. Sorry to bother you,” you mumble. You hate how your hoarse voice and ragged breaths betray the sobs that have barely subsided.

“...I’m coming over,” is all Victor says before abruptly hanging up.

It’s a twenty minute drive from his luxurious penthouse to your apartment, but you know he’ll make it in fifteen. Running to the bathroom, you try to fix your appearance to make you look more like a successful producer, and less like a woman gone mad. But while your hair can be combed down and your tears can be wiped away, nothing works against your bloodshot eyes, shaking hands and pale complexion.

The doorbell rings, and you’re in full panic mode. You really don’t want him to see you like this. But without him, you’re probably not sleeping tonight. Also, he’s here already. Wiping your sweaty palms on your pyjama pants one last time, you open the front door.

Even when he has his sleeves rolled up, shirt partly unbuttoned and hair mussed from running his hands through it, Victor is handsome. But today, you can’t bare to look at him. Your apartment floor suddenly seems incredibly interesting.

A small gesture encourages his entrance. The door is barely closed again, and he’s already got his arms wrapped around you, your face pressed against his chest. The warmth of his hug and his rapidly beating heart open the floodgates again, and while your boyfriend strokes your hair, you sob your fears out on his black dress shirt.

Later, when you’re both huddled in your queen-sized bed, he asks you why you didn’t tell him about the nightmare right away. “I thought you’d think I’m pathetic or something. You’re always so strict.” You look up at him, mouth formed into a small pout.

For a moment, he’s dumbfounded. Maybe he never considered the idea? Victor hesitates, before pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “I’m sorry,” he sighs, “I’ll be more considerate from now on.”

And as Victor rubs your shoulder, legs intertwined with yours, you doze off under the cloudy night sky. But not before hearing his sweet whispers. “Lean on me more, next time. I’ll always be by your side.”

Lucien (TW: panic attack, minor mentions of death)

Disclaimer: I know this could be taken wrongly. I have no intention to romanticise mental illness. It isn’t something that makes you broken, nor is it a ‘fun’ or ‘special’ thing. The story is partially taken from my experience, so I know how this feels. I wrote this as a way to bring awareness in a light manner, and to show that sometimes, panic attacks can be alleviated with someone around. I hope it brings comfort to those who wish they had someone in moments like these.

Listening to Lucien’s lectures tends to transport you back to the time when you were still a university student. Ah, it is a nostalgic feeling. A part of you misses being in school; going out with friends, listening to the teachers drone on about various subjects, eating in the school’s cafeteria.

But if there’s one thing you don’t miss, it’s the immeasurable amounts of stress. So why is that the thing I’m reliving right now?

As a young adult, you struggled with anxiety and spontaneous panic attacks, rendering you vulnerable to a work overload. You’d think it’d gotten better, especially since you have to deal with a lot of projects as a head producer nowadays. However, it seems as though old habits do die hard...This week has been particularly taxing—emotionally, what with your father’s death anniversary, and mentally; an important and popular show just got compromised by one of the actors’ companies. All that, and the prospect of an even tighter schedule during Christmas season has sent you into a full-blown panic attack.

Your initial plan was to just...ride this one out. That’s what you always did as a child. In an hour or two, your hands will stop cramping, your tears will stop falling, your breathing will return to normal, right? But it seems fate, and Lucien, disagree. I forgot I gave him the key to my apartment.

Lucien senses something is wrong when you don’t come out to greet him by the door.

“My love? Are you alright?” he yells out. Hearing little besides your irregular breathing, he kicks his shoes off, speeding towards the living area. You’re sat on the white sofa, knees to your chest, shoulders heaving and thick tears streaming down your face.

Lucien’s brows furrow in deep concern as he kneels down by your form. Even though he’s right in front of you, your eyes do not meet his. You’ve gone too deep in your own shell to even be able to acknowledge his presence. A tentative hand removes one of yours from its tight grasp on your other arm, and Lucien lets out a sigh of relief as he feels your hand clutch his. He takes it as a sign to lift you fully into his arms, and takes a seat on the sofa.

“Breathe. In,” he mimicks a deep inhale, “and out.” Lucien blows out, repeating the motion a couple more times. He rubs your back and your hands, constantly alternating between helping you breathe and gently uttering soothing phrases.

“Easy, I’m here with you. Do you feel my heartbeat?” When your hands have finally relaxed out of their cramped up form, he presses one of them against his chest. The slow, rhythmic thumping grounds you. Lucien. A stiff nod from you makes a soft, wry smile appear on his face. “Good girl. You’re getting there, my dear. Just stay with me, here. You’re doing great.”

You don’t know how much longer you stay like that. All you know is that he stays with you through the entire attack. Hours later, you two are having a steaming cup of tea at the dinner table.

“I’m sorry you had to see that. I didn’t want you to worry,” you mutter sheepishly.

“Don’t be ashamed of yourself,” Lucien’s violet eyes bore deep into yours, “Besides, how could I not worry when someone so dear is having a hard time?”

You shrug, a defeated look on your face. Your fingers fidget with the wood of the dinner table, until Lucien swiftly takes your hand in his again.

He sighs. “Take tomorrow off. I’ll take care of you.” Even though his tone is soft, Lucien leaves no space for argument. You know you should agree. There’s no way you could function properly if you were to go to work tomorrow.

“...Thank you.”

Lucien brings your hand to his lips, leaving feather-light kisses on your knuckles. “No thanks needed. You can be greedier with me.”

Gavin

There’s perhaps no person in the world who enjoys rejection. Sure, there may be those who bounce back quickly, those who see rejection as a new opportunity. But rejection, failure in itself, doesn’t evoke positive feelings.

As the producer of Miracle Finder, you’ve gotten used to rejection; it was hard to get the show back on track during the first year or so. Maybe you were arrogant, thinking it’d get better, or less painful, the more often you got rejected.

Things did get better, and last week you were even offered a deal with Loveland TV for a second weekly show. The company had seen the success Miracle Finder had, and had offered you the chance to come up with something wholly original. Something...you. That night, a mere week ago, you took the girls out for dinner and drinks. You were on cloud nine that day. In hindsight, maybe it was karma. Maybe I jinxed it. Cheered too soon, and all that.

This morning, you got a devastating e-mail that stated, in polite (but somehow still rude) terms, that your new show would not be broadcasted. The relaxed mood at the office rapidly turned somber once you mentioned the unfortunate decision. Your employees decided to give you some space afterwards. Not being able to stand the sadness, and feeling somewhat bad for them, you sent everyone, yes, including Anna, home early.

By three p.m., you’re the only one left at the office. You sit at your desk, head in your hands. I know it isn’t the end of the world...but right now, it almost feels like it is. With a deep sigh, you push yourself up, heading to the small kitchen to make yourself a cup of tea. Maybe you’ll have a biscuit too. Anything to cheer yourself up.

Your mind automatically goes to Gavin, and without thinking it over too much, you dial his number. After a couple of rings, your call goes to voicemail. Stupid. He’s probably working. I’ll just leave a message.

“Hey babe, it’s me. I-uh, the thing I mentioned last week? The new show deal with Loveland TV? Yeah, that’s not happening,” your voice cracks halfway through the last sentence as you try to push down the disappointment that bleeds through, “I’m staying late today. Need some time to-to process things. I’ll be fine. Love you, hope you’re safe.”

Time passes agonisingly slowly, so slowly you might as well think Victor’s behind it, while you dive into a mountain of work. It distracts you from today’s events. but the lingering sadness is still present in the back of your mind.

Around eight, you start cleaning up your desk, shutting down your computer and gathering the papers. A knock on the window catches your attention as you’re about to head out. You turn around, noticing a tall figure on the balcony outside. Gavin! You hastily run back, opening the sliding door for Gavin to enter.

“Hi,” That’s the most awkward thing you could say. “I didn’t know you would come. Did you hear my message? You really didn’t have to...” you trail off when Gavin wordlessly opens his arms to you. His golden eyes look anywhere but you, and a slight blush is visible in the dark room, only illuminated by the bright lights outside.

You gingerly step into his arms at first, clutching the back of his signature denim jacket tighter as time goes on. A couple of stray tears that you’re not able to hold back create wet splotches on his shirt. “I’m sorry,” you mumble, your voice muffled by the soft fabric.

“No biggie. Are you feeling alright?” he asks you. A non-committal shrug is all you respond with. “I know it was a big project for you.”

“Yeah, I don’t really know what to do now.”

Gavin bends down a little, kissing the crown of your head. “You move on, and you don’t give up.”

You fall into comfortable silence. Gavin’s thumb rubs up and down your waist, soothing you. “...Have you ever been rejected?” you suddenly ask him.

Gavin chuckles. “Sure I have. I got rejected by my very first love.”

You raise your head to look up at him. Gavin sees his own reflection in your large, teary eyes, and smiles. “And what happened then?” you ask, your voice lightly tinged with jealousy. Who was his first love?

“Well, she’s in my arms now, isn’t she?” Even though he’s embarrassed to say the words, Gavin forces himself to look at you. At those eyes that shine with love for the world, for him.

Bonus:

“Come on, I’ll take you home.” you pull out of the embrace to get your coat by the coat hanger, opening the door to head out again, like a normal person.

“How? You didn’t come here by bike, did you?”

Gavin’s already facing the window again, but he turns back with a smirk, holding his hand out to you. “I never said we were going by bike.”

“Gavin, no, babe, no, no, nonononononono—Aah!!” Your protests are cut short as Gavin swoops you into his arms bridal style and flies off. The wind rushes past your ears, almost making you miss Gavin’s gleeful laugh. “Gavin! I didn’t lock the doors!”

Kiro

On many occasions, you’re envious of Kiro’s Evol. But even without his Evol, Kiro is so bubbly and kind, you can’t help but like him. You sincerely wish you had that ability. And I know I’m supposed to make my own wishes come true, but I can only do so much to make people like me. I’m not going to bend over backwards and become a pushover just to be liked.

Still, it hurts when people are purposely mean to you. Especially during high school reunions. You were by no means a popular kid growing up...but you didn’t think that some people would still be stuck in a high school mentality. You held your own during the reunion, ignoring the backhanded compliments and blatantly condescending insults in favour of catching up with your old friends. Yet, all you can think of on the drive home are the negative comments.

“Oh, you still can’t drink alcohol? Seems like ‘someone’ hasn’t grown up yet!”

“You’re the producer of Miracle Finder? I hate that show, it’s so unrealistic.”

“Isn’t that a kids’ show?”

“My, you look adorable! My daughter also likes to wear those types of clothes, you know, to go play at the park.”

I can’t believe I missed game night with Kiro for this. With a terrible mood, you shuffle into the house. Kiro’s on the sofa playing A Chinese Ghost Story, a bag of chips on the coffee table in front of him. He turns to greet you with a smile, but it quickly falls after seeing your somber expression.

“Welcome home Miss Ch—eh? What’s wrong?” Kiro takes his headphones off to stand up in front of you. His hands instinctively move to your waist to pull you close.

“How was the gathering?” he asks carefully. His eyes are big, just like a puppy’s. Had you felt better, you would’ve commented on his cute appearance.

It’s as if that question flips a switch. “It was horrible!” you sniffle.

“Wha—Miss Chips!” Kiro grows panicked at your sniffles and sobs, and roughly pulls you to his chest. You retaliate by hugging him tightly, crying all your frustrations out on his shoulder.

Somehow, you move into a cuddling position on the living room sofa. You straddle his slender legs and his arms are wrapped around your torso, rubbing comforting circles on your back. Pulling away from his embrace, you start ranting about the terrible evening.

“...and I don’t even know why I’m this upset! It’s so frustrating. I’ve worked so hard to become who I am today, and the moment someone says something to me, I just break down. Maybe I am a child,” you look up at Kiro, eyes wide and brimming with tears, “Kiro, am I a child to you?”

Kiro chuckles. “Well, Miss Chips...sometimes you can be childish,” you jut your lip out in a pout, “b-but I’m childish too! And there’s nothing wrong with that. Some people want to grow up too fast, so they drink alcohol and dress up in dark colours and stiff fabrics to feel properly imprisoned in the ‘harsh adult world’. But most of us could be happier if we just...let our inner child out.”

He cups your cheek. “Never be ashamed of being childish, Miss Chips. It doesn’t make you a child,” a mischievous grin appears on Kiro’s youthful face, “Besides, I wouldn’t do this if I thought of you as a child!”

With the hand on your cheek, Kiro draws your face closer to his. Your lips meet in a swift kiss that takes you by surprise. He swallows the startled gasp that escapes your mouth, retaliating by slowly swiping his tongue across your bottom lip. You can feel him smile into the kiss as you lean into it, closing your eyes. Your tears are long forgotten as you tangle your hands in Kiro’s blond locks. Slowly, you part your lips, allowing Kiro’s tongue to slip into your mouth. The teasing flicks of his tongue make you go weak, and he chuckles when your grip on his hair loosens.

Kiro notices you’re growing light-headed, so he gives you time to regain your breath while he peppers little kisses on the corners of your mouth and on your swollen lips. You kissing demon.

His satisfied hum is disrupted by a vicious punch to the chest. “Ah! Miss Chips, why would you hit me?” It’s Kiro’s time to pout now.

“Who told you to do that?! You’re so sly, it’s unfair!” you scold him, cheeks flushed a bright red.

“Yes, yes,” he pets your head, “but it helped, right? You’re not upset anymore, right?”

Your face scrunches up. “I guess not...I’m still mad at you for surprising me like that,” Kiro giggles, “But thanks.” His smile is contagious, and soon you’re both in a giggling fit.

When the giggles have subsided, Kiro pushes you back into his chest. As he snuggles into your shoulder, he whispers in your ear. “Don’t worry. Every time you feel sad, I’ll be there to cheer you up.”

I’m not saying dark clothes are bad! I have a black wardrobe myself...but we all need to remember that we don’t need to be so hard on ourselves sometimes.

For some reason I’ve never properly depicted kissing like that in my writing. Ehhh, forgive me if it’s bad. Little note...do you guys know what Chinese drama ‘A Chinese Ghost Story’ is featured in?

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stray-tori · 3 years

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TPN S02E09 - Initial Thoughts (anime-only)

[ Reaction video w/ captions/subs ] we collectively have a breakdown about the pen, please enjoy it pff-

... hmmm... yeah I... ain’t feeling it. I think my tpn feelings overall are carrying this more than anything pff. I didn’t hate it, it was just...... mediocre... like if this wasn’t tpn, I probably would have dropped it at this point.

BUT IT IS TPN SO LET’S GIVE SOME THOUGHTS.

. Random thoughts I don’t want to re-arrange

when Emma was like “share your pain with us!!”, I liked how Norman turned to Ray like “Ray. help. tell her I’m right” kind of like Ray did in s1 pfff-

Norman cried the words he didn’t allow himself to say in s1 :( I’M EMOTIONAL. it might not be the icing on the cake execution wise but GOD MY HEART. And knowing he’s going to die to it’s just- (well not if the pen has something to say about it but more about that later)

where- wheres my trio hug :((( RAY HUG THE CHILD NOW

it’s interesting that while Emma got the entire emotional speech spotlight, only Ray got a reaction shot to “I won’t live long”?? equivalent.... exchange...?

I thought Norman had a seizure when he broke down in front of Emma and Ray and I kinda wish he had because while it’s good to have him say it outright (a win for communicationnn), imagine THE ANGST. “I want to live with yo- *coughs up fountains of blood*”.

So. yknow that hideout Cislo or Vincent referenced when talking to Emma and Ray. Yknow where Norman hid the children they stole from farms, making it look like demons did it? ... w-what about them? will we see them? Are they getting left behind? it would have worked for Norman’s plan, since all they had to do was stay put and wait for demons to be yeeted. But now... he’d have to take them all too. But... I doubt we’re gonna introduce a bunch of new designs and characters? Or are we? Who knows. I don’t. I have unreasonably amount of protecc feelings for those children I’ve never even seen haha- WHERE ARE THEY. I mean... the plan rn is to immediately use the gate right? or is the plan to eradicte the GF farm staff and higher ups? I guess if thats the plan it might work. Or I guess the plan is to save Phil for now???

the idea of Sonju just... slicing his arm and throwing it at demons in a loop sounds so funny to me please someone make that.

I liked that Mujika turned to the lambda kids after giving a cup to the demon children but then we didn’t see their reaction or anything and then it cuts to the temple??? that was weird. was there sth missing there? confusion.

I also like Isabella remarking "[a radio] was supposed to be there" regarding the shelter, because it further heavily implies they know of the shelters and just let them be. Which further confirms that they should have just reframed the shelter and had the kids escape from it quickly but oH WELL.

I really liked demon Emma apologizing and Norman's reaction to that. it was a sweet little moment and like, the realization of apologizing for something that she didn't do but is aware of and all that. Cycle of hatred and all that shiz hell ye. Ik the anime won't rly delve into that but I kind of relish in the angst potential of the village - sure it was undone but some were still eaten and died and transforming people back won't bring those back. So, that’s some hella terrifying implications for families; and I'm assuming Norman is aware of those so. guilt time! not that he wasn't aware it was bad but yeah- I teared up at that moment :<<

I feel like this season really does its best when it’s doing the whole two worlds/species angle. Mujika and Sonju, the village, demon and human Emma... all that stuff.

I wish we had gotten more time (god this is really the season’s downfall) thought to see Vylk talk to the GF kids more often. it’s implied he told them not to hang out there before but I would have liked to have him show up a few more times before that but yeah. Runtime very RIP.

I also feel like CW is bending over backwards to put cliffhangers at the end of episodes. that was already a problem in s1 when they had Phil come in when Don and Gilda were in Isabella's room. it was obvious it'd be a copout but they still did it. I'm just wondering why we had to have Vincent disagree with the group to this extend (and if the shock value might play a part in that). we have 2 more episodes, why are they introducing more plot threads? Just streamline it you dofuses. I just don't know what good can come of it unless it's like an ultra big brain move to help them?? (and then we're back with the forcing cliffhangers thing) - if it's actual conflict, this'll just make things more confusing and clustered, and we don't have time for that right now imo. But who knows maybe it plays into something I just don't understand yet and it'll work out somehow

. Animation flow kinda dead.

I felt like this episode was kind of... awkwardly executed whenever something that was a slightly dynamic movement happened?

The whole bit while Emma is walking up to Norman could have been better, but it’s passable, except that a lot is spelled out for us.

But then she takes his hand really weirdly in a far away shot with bad inbetween timing?? what is that haha-

Or him collapsing is cut really weirdly. you barely really see it, you just kinda piece it together from Emma’s reaction and her catching him.

Most facial expressions are good though, which is arguably the more important part in this scene. I feel like a better execution just would have elevated it even more.

The only one I felt was really awkward in its entirety is Barbara’s scene with the children demons. I felt like that was in particular kind of stiff and the cut between the child and her was too sudden and felt jarring. TPN anime doesn’t really do that sort of stuff a lot, so imo it’s kind of “??” when they do it. With Norman it was too, but that at least had a good transition over to it (with bg and fg panning) and nice animation. Barbara’s just kind of switched. Tbh don’t switch it out, and as the child screams, switch over to her facial expression as her own voice fades into the scream? I think that would have done it too and also be low effort.

I think it’s moreso the flow of the shots than the actual shots though? it’s a bit too fast paced and sometimes missing inbetweens (like the wild demon eating sonju’s hand is literally just 2 frames) - it’s very weird. It’s jarring, but I can’t really explain why.

I’m sorry for the staff, I’m sure the production hasn’t been easy. maybe with the bluray release we’ll get some updated animations/inbetweens.

Some appreciation though:

as mentioned, most of the facial expressions, even if the body language was a bit stiff.

the cut from the trio talking to the eye-transition of the demon and the following breath animation looked nice. Also his arm regenerating!

Sonju smirking as he cuts his arm off, what a bastard

they didn’t have to show Vylk’s arm regenerating casually while they’re talking but they did.

. the lambda crew

If only I cared about you guys. Hahhh it’s just... introducing characters so close to the end is just. A mess. A recipe for disaster.

Where has the anime’s “show off the younger kids” angle gone? I thought they were always pretty good at that. but they haven’t really contributed anything since the whole tidbit about the older children always eating less for them. And even then it was just Lani and Thoma.

Potentially, what segments we saw in the shelter will come back for the GF raid thematically but I’m just... EH?

. the cure pen

at this point, just stick a syringe part at the end of the stick and just inject it and it’s gonna solve everything probably.

I just don’t understand why that needed to happen. Assuming they go to the human world, it’d be perfectly acceptable for me for medicine to be so advanced that it’d be able to like, lessen their symptoms and significantly improve their lifespan.

Don’t just... REMOVE their struggles. It’s okay to not be normal and cured. it’s okay for their lives to be impacted by it going forward. In fact, I’d much prefer that.

(added in later) OH wait they literally spell out why the cure being in the pen is meaningful - because it opens up a path where they can live through not having annihilated all the demons - it's essentially the moral "reward" for not killing them. Since they probably wouldn't have gotten it if they did that. I still think it wasn't needed and the blueprint on its own would suffice for another pen-convinience moment but I kind of get what they're going for, I just don't think it's worth it . In their case, going to the human world (while they don't know it) means having more medical expertise at their disposal which they can then use to survive. UNLESS they're actually not welcome over there and have to hide or something, in that case... that might be hard, true. I guess I'll come back to think about this once it's over. For now, it feels kind of unearned and it wouldn’t even have to be this way in my eyes which makes it somewhat worse.

But good, let’s say in-universe you need it NOW, then at least don’t put??? the medicine??? recipe??? INTO the hologram.

What if they just checked the GF blueprint and Norman goes “hey, Vincent... do you think this [database/archive room] could have some data on our experiments?” - Norman said he tried to develop a drug to help them but the supporters who had that data were purged. but... they had Smee to help them too. But SOMEHOW, a dude from 15 years ago just HAS the cure??? (at least let Norman develop it himself and have the data be just THE DATA and not the recipe).

It might still check out somewhat??

15+ years ago, James Ratri was assumingly still the gatekeeper since the switch to Peter seems somewhat recent considering his big "era of James has ended" speech.

I guess the implication is that just like Smee => Krone => Norman, a supporter all that time ago gave random person the pen when they escaped.

When Vylk found him, he also had just the data medium of the pen (not the entire pen), so maybe the farm thought they eliminated it and that’s why they didn’t change their methods to not work with those drugs anymore? It's still a bit curious that their experimentation hasn't changed at all in 15 years but maybe that's because they keep killing the smart people instead of making them scientists to research for them :D

Somewhere since those 15 years, Smee gave Krone the pen (probably a few years before she got to GF?), which means that at that point the gate the keyword "future" sent them to, was still in tact when Smee gave Krone the pen. Maybe WM wasn't discovered yet at that point?

then WM got discovered, James was chased. He made that phonecall update and was probably eventually killed, along with the human location (and likely bunkers since they knew a radio was supposed to be there, begs the question why they didn't remove it) being discovered (the one with the future keyword) and the gate there being destroyed.

The problem is just that it can make sense when you think about it for way too long and assume things in good-faith, but it still feels unearned.

Maybe I would care more or this would feel a little more earned if we knew ANYTHING about that person? They seemed fairly young, so it’s probably not Minerva/James Ratri. The “hope” talk reminded me of the book in the shelter, but I’m not sure if that checks out either? The cookies were rotten but not completely. I know cookies hold out relatively long, but would they rly not be completely rotten after 15 years? I MEAN. Maybe not. Who knows. I tried to google it but didn’t find anything.

But anyway. That tidbit is going into my “shelter kids OC project” I guess.

But even if the worldbuilding makes sense, I think the data set in itself makes little sense?? How did they find that pen part? Did a supporter give it to them? Why do they have the cure? Clearly their group of escapees wasn’t doing too hot (#help) and they seemed relatively young too so they probably couldn’t have worked in the farm.

Were the shelter escapees lambda escapees? but if that was the case, wouldn’t the WM group have secured the cure information more properly than in just one pen (maybe it was and those were just destroyed, to be fair) - it’s just WEIRD to put the cure for Lambda experiments on the same blueprint as the GF layout??? that makes so little sense.

Plus, why would you send them to GF, when it’s so secured and all that, and not just send them to the human support place our GF kids were sent with the “future” keyword, which had a gate. Maybe it didn’t exist 15 years ago (that the humans had control over it, that is), but even then it seems weird to me to imply to send them to GF instead of one of the other gates that existed. I mean. The “future” location’s gate wasn’t destroyed when Krone got the pen right?

I’m guessing maybe it was meant as help for escaping? But then again, why the cure? I guess if they met lambda experiments? I’m just confused.

Also: do we just accept that the layout of GUARDS and SECURITY MEASURES has not changed in 15 years???

*sigh* welp. Still looking forward to seeing some stuff with Isabella hopefully. Time... is not on their side and it shows. Neither run-time wise nor production wise.

#tpn anime #tpn s2 #tpn anime-only #tpn #tori talks #tori has opinions

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fanfalc-616 · 3 years

Text

The Rights Of A Nindroid

Chapter Thirteen- Variation Two

(Prevoius variation here)

(Discord Here)

This chapter was originally an RP with @ablackswansweet, and there are two versions- one from both character’s POV. I have Swan’s permission to post this.

The young man can feel the android's gaze on him. It's wary of Martha and him, although he can hardly blame it. But he can't help but find the idea of a machine being "scared" kind of funny.

"What do you want?" It asks, most likely knowing something is coming, judging from the resignation in its voice. Kyle smiles internally.

You can almost see the cracks.

The blond is practically buzzing with excitement. A real android! And he gets to study it up close!

Getting closer, he inspects its face. The eerie look almost makes him shudder.

"I want to learn how you work." He takes Original's chin in his hand, moving it's head left and right to get a better look at it. The winces of "pain" from the android are uncanny.

He writes down some notes and takes his place next to the official again. Next part should be fun.

The android seems less than pleased with him playing with its uncovered face. Still, it bites its tongue instead of Kyle's hand (despite its very obvious desire to do so) until the blond is done, and lets out what sounds like a breath of relief.

How can you replicate relief in coding ? It's AI is fascinating.

"Haven't you done that enough?" It whines, trying to shake off its bonds. "With everything you've done to me, I doubt that any competent mechanic would need any more research."

It tries to shoot him a displeased glare, but without its faceplate it just looks unsettling and pathetic.

Kyle chuckles to himself. For a machine, it's talking a lot. Fascinating.

"Thing is, Original, I'm not exactly a mechanic. I'm just really, really interested by your wires and gears. And how well they respond to… Certains stimuli," he says.

A few more words in his notes and he looks at Martha, asking if it's time. She nods. Awesome.

As fast as he can, the blond connects wires to the android, barely able to contain his joy. It's not everyday you get to experiment on a non-human sentient being.

Stepping in front of the control panel, he waits for the official's instructions, almost shaking from anticipation.

Original isn't looking so good. It seems worried. Well, it's right. It should be. The distress emanating from it is very interesting, too. Can it sense the danger looming over it?

“To begin with, my name is Zane, not Original. Second, if you are so interested in ‘wires and gears’ perhaps a robotics course would be a more healthy outlet for you," it tries to reason with him. Too bad that it's way more interesting than a simple robotics course.

After a pause, it adds, "Why are you doing this? I can assure you that I have never meant to cause harm on any innocents.”

Kyle's hand twitches. He looks over at Martha. She's wearing a displeased expression. He didn't expect anything else, and he's probably making the same face as well.

“You can begin whenever you like.” The official tone sounds slightly interested, now.

He hums in response.

"Hey, Original?" He calls out to the robot. "You talk a lot."

He pushes a button and a small jolt of electricity was released. This fairly small amount of energy is only meant to cause discomfort. Wouldn't want to burn it out too fast.

The android squirms and still attempts to free itself, but no real pain response occurs. Interesting. A new paragraph written.

It still tries to reason with him, going on and on about how it wants it to stop, please. Kyle drowns the sound out with his thoughts. That wasn't very exciting.

Maybe with a stronger charge, something interesting will happen? That's what Martha seems to think too.

The android finally looks like it understands it's not talking him out of it.

How advanced is its code supposed to be, again? That took a while.

“I suppose I am talking a lot,” It concedes, “but not nearly as much as an old friend of mine. Jay couldn’t stay quiet if his life depended on it.”

Is it trying to have a conversation with him? Now? In its situation?

It must have thought of something. Let's humor it.

"Heh, yeah. I had a guy like that in one of my foster homes." A smirk grows on the blond’s face as the robot seems startled. "Didn't end well for him either. No one like a constant source of useless noise, don't you agree?"

Even without a faceplate, its expressions are pretty easy to guess. It's almost laughable how a few words shakes it up.

Making small talk is is a smart plan, he'll give it that. It's probably hoping that it'll make him like it enough to not hurt it. Let's see how long this game can last.

"How is your old friend doing now?" He asks, slowly turning up the voltage. The other engineers told him this should be as painful as period cramps, so that's fun.

The android struggles under the amount of electricity building up. But still, it continues to talk. Kyle's impressed.

“I haven’t seen him in a while- I’ve been a little…” It looks at its restrains and winces, probably reminded of its situation.. “... tied up.”

At big crooked smile appears on the blond's face. It's even making jokes now! Powering through painful situations could be a valuable asset if they were to make something like supersoldiers. Looking good so far.

“I don’t think I caught your name, either. What do you go by?” It asks, most likely trying to get information on him. That's not very important data, though. It can have it.

The blond lets his face turn into a surprised expression for a second. "My name's Kyle. He/him, I guess. But I don't think you're going to need to know that."

He turns the charge a little higher again, hoping to see some more interesting pain responses as they continue to talk. This is getting boring. Martha seems to approve of his method, however. Thanks, mom.

"Tell me about your other old friends. You said you were dating, right? How's it like ?" He asks again, a sinister smile on his face. How about a good old Pavlovian shock therapy?

Original fights any sign of discomfort or pain, and its calm expression is almost unsettling when you know what its sensors are going through right now.

“It’s nice to meet you, Kyle," It tells him, the lie barely noticeable. But Kyle has worked with hypocrites before. Original is talented. “I don’t recall mentioning that I was in an active relationship, but I suppose that the background research you must’ve done would cover that.”

Kyle smiles and says nothing. He increases the tension steadily, appreciating the sight of the android losing its peaceful facade, with flashes of pain occasionally visible on its face.

Impressive. The robot is still fighting. Maybe leaving the sensors at their normal settings was too nice, but oh well. Things are just now getting better.

"Yeah, I read your file before coming here. Big fan, by the way." He smiles, but the hostility starts to seep in his voice. "Wonder how they feel about your self-sacrificing nature," he almost spit out.

No. Breathe. Calm down.

Some composure regained, he suddenly sends it a jolt of electricity. Seeing it almost bite its tongue in pain is pretty therapeutic, actually.

Kyle lowers the voltage to let the robot catch his artificial breath. It's going to give up completely pretty soon. He'll have some fun with it first.

"So, your old friends ?"

Its pathetic sigh of relief is still very satisfying. It looks desperate, and tries to explain its past actions. It really doesn't need to. Kyle already knows they're unforgivable.

“When I was fighting the Golden Master, I meant no harm to any innocent people. I was built to protect those who cannot protect themselves. I… I understand that in some ways, I have failed this function, but I do my best to help those in need.”

The android attempts to steady its breathing. Trying to keep keep a sliver of dignity in front of the enemy, maybe ?

Anyways, it stopped talking. Finally.

Kyle sighs and does his best not to give a snarky reply. It seems to believe in what it's saying, anyways. Further proof of how out of touch with reality its AI is.

Another spike of tension, and Kyle is smiling again.

"You didn't answer my question, Original. How was life with your… Boyfriends ? Kai Smith, Jay Walker and Cole Brookstone, yeah ?" He says, insisting on their last names. They know who they are. Perhaps that'll make it talk.

His excitement level goes through the roof at Original's reaction. It goes stiff, most likely from anger. He found the weak spot.

A whimper escapes it, but it doesn't adress it. It's really mad.

“You do not touch them," it snarls at him. If Kyle's hand had been close to its face, there was no doubt it would've bitten him. “If you hurt them, I swear on the First Spinjitzu Master that I will hunt you down to the ends of the-“ Kyle cuts him off by sending it a strong shock. It cries in pain. The blond doesn't feel bad.

"Calm down. I didn't even actually threaten them yet," The boy mutters, leaving the tension run high a few more seconds before leaving it room to breathe again. The pathetic sounds of relief it does each time makes him want to laugh.

"If I wanted to truly use them as hostages, I'd tell you I know which shop they go to every two weeks to buy supplies and food, which is the one at the end of the main avenue."

Slowly, almost imperceptibly, the voltage starts going up again.

"I'd tell you we have live feed of them almost every day and everywhere they go."

The pain must be becoming close to absolutely unbearable, seeing how the android trashes around. Fun.

"Or… I'd tell you how one of them already got arrested once, and how easy it is to transfer prisoners or fake an accident."

The power is now all the way up. It's almost scary how much this artificial body can handle.

Before it actually physically breaks, though, Kyle shuts off the power. The android's breath of relief is broken up by what sounds like sobs.

The blond comes closer, chuckling as the machine flinches near him. He takes off the wires plugged into it.

"Don't you dare threaten me or her ever again. Remember who holds the power here," he mutters in its ear before joining Martha with a smile, his notepad black with scribbles. She looks satisfied.

The android looks like it wants to say something, but doesn't have the strength to do so anymore. That's a satisfying sight.

He leaves the room with Martha, closing the door after her.

She smiles at him.

"It's close. You were right, you can almost see it cracking by the minute."

She fondly ruffles his hair and he chuckles, his nose tickled.

"Good job, sweetie."

#the rights of a nindroid #ninjago fanfiction #ninjago zangst #psychological torture #torture #trauma

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four-loose-screws · 3 years

Text

FE8 Novelization Translation - Chapter 5, Section 1

If you would like to start from the beginning, read a missed part, etc., click here!

FE Game Script Translations - FE Novel Translations - Original FE Support Conversations

If you are interested in donating to support my work, please check out my Ko-fi here. Thank you!

———————————

I call this a “section” because it is not a separate part of the chapter in the book, but divided from the rest of the chapter by a scene break.

———————————

Chapter 5: Fog of War

"Alright, that should do it! You'll probably be in pain for a while, but so long as you don't push yourself, you'll eventually be able to walk again." Ephraim said cheerfully and finished wrapping a bandage around the soldier's injured foot.

He was so skilled with his hands that you'd think he wasn't a prince at all. As the grueling battles continued on, he had mastered not only combat, but also basic first aid.

Now that he was finished tending to the man's wounds, Ephraim stepped away from the injured and walked over to Forde and a few other soldiers, who were all mending their weapons under the shade of a tree.

He sat down and let out a heavy sigh. His expression was so grim that he looked like a completely different person than the one who'd just been cheerful in front of the soldiers.

"Forde, how is our food and medicine stock doing?" He whispered.

Forde's voice was also low as he answered, "Bad. Really bad. We're really low on both. We've used up almost all of our weapons, too."

"I see…" The furrow in Ephraim's brow slowly creased more and more.

Forde and Kyle, who was sitting next to him, both looked at each other out of the corner of their eyes.

"If we… collect… some money from the local villages, we could probably manage to get a hold of some food, but..."

He knew there was no way Ephraim could agree to what he was saying, but he tried it anyway.

As expected, Ephraim shook his head and said with conviction, "We can't do that! We can't cause trouble for the common people just because we're in enemy territory. We need to think of another way."

"I knew you'd say that." Forde smiled.

It had already been several months since Ephaim’s army left the capital to protect the border from the Grado Army’s invasion. Ephraim’s army put up a flawless fight, but was overwhelmed by the difference in power.

The number of casualties grew by the day, and now so few soldiers were left that they could easily be counted by one person. And to make matters even worse, nearly all of those remaining were injured and could hardly move.

Any normal general would cast aside soldiers that could not move, but Ephraim would never do any such thing. He would boil plants to use as medicine for the soldiers all on his own, and even carry them around himself sometimes.

Their battlefield was currently taking place near Renvall Castle, a location that was strategically chosen to build upon because it was surrounded by a lake, and was famous for having never once fallen to an enemy. For the past few days, the Grado Army had been chasing them around the area, leaving them nowhere to run but the middle of a forest.

A sense that it was likely already only a matter of time before they surrendered had begun to permeate Ephraim’s army, but their leader had not given up hope, not even now. Forde and Kyle knew that was not just a bluff, but something he firmly believed in. It was for that reason that they admired Ephraim and had served him since they day they’d become knights.

“So then, what are we going to do now, Lord Ephraim? We’re at our limit. We can’t even run around anymore.” Forde said.

Kyle also interjected into the conversation, “From what we know, the Grado Army has already invaded very far into Renais. Rumor also has it that the capital has already fallen.”

Those words from the overserious Kyle sounded even darker than everything else they were facing.

But Ephraim brushed aside their concern with confidence in his response, “Everything will be okay. My father is there, along with Seth and his unit. They will not lose so easily.”

“Even if you say that, still…”

“If you say that the capital is in danger, then that is all the more reason to start a skirmish here and draw the attention of the Grado Army. It will give Father and Eirika time to escape.”

“A skirmish, huh…?”

Was he serious? What could they possibly accomplish with such few troops left?

Forde was dumbfounded, just as anyone else would be in this situation.

“I have returned with my report.” A tired voice said from above them.

Ephraim and the knights all looked up.

It was Orson, returning from gathering information. He was a calm and composed knight much older than them. He'd been a knight for many, many years now, and had risen to the highest position of his unit.

“I confirmed the presence of Grado soldiers in many locations. A large unit has deployed from Renvall Castle. They are likely putting great effort into searching for us as we speak. It may be dangerous for us to stay here for long.”

“Mm-hmm…” Ephraim was deep in thought.

Forde argued, “We’re at our limit, right? It would be best for us to retreat to the capital and regroup.”

“...No.” Ephraim stood up. The words he uttered were a complete surprise. “We will continue to march, and conquer Renvall Castle.”

“What!?” Forde and Kyle said in unison. Even the calm Orson’s eyes widened in shock.

Forde stood up as well, and looked in the same direction that Ephraim was. The impenetrable Renvall Castle was white as snow, striking fear into the hearts of any who dared to try challenging it.

"A-Are you sane, Lord Ephraim? What are you thinking, suggesting such a foolish plan…?"

"Hey! Watch your mouth!" Kyle quickly stood up and jabbed Forde in the side. He was always strict about manners, no matter the situation.

Ephraim appeared to be unconcerned as he said, "That's what you think, right? The enemy will have the exact same idea. No sane person would ever think of attacking Renvall under these circumstances."

"Lord Ephraim…"

"It's not that I am desperate. Renvall is a stronghold for the Grado Army, so if it falls, then the enemy will panic. The forces marching towards the capital will probably have to divide and send some units here. If that happens, then at the very least, it should help Father and Eirika."

"Yes, that might be true, but…"

Ephraim was being true to his ideals. However, if they thought about the problem realistically, then his plan was reckless.

Forde and Kyle's expressions made Ephraim laugh. "I know it is a reckless strategy. That is why it will be a good one. The enemy won't possibly be thinking that we will attack. We will strike them while their guard is down."

"Well… no matter what path we may take, we can't run around forever. And then if we run out of supplies… Alright then, shall we try it?" Forde said. When he looked at Ephraim's face, he felt that he could see a glimmer of hope in his lord's expression, that they might just be able to succeed with this strategy that no one would think was possible.

Ephraim announced with confidence in his voice, "I do not pick fights that I cannot win. Trust me."

"Yes, Milord!" Forde and Kyle nodded.

'Jeez, what a strange person he is.' Forde could not help but think.

This war marked his first experience with real combat, yet somehow, Ephraim knew how to fight extremely well. He was astonishingly optimistic, but also not to be underestimated. There were aspects of battle that only Ephraim could see.

They had a chance to win this battle. No, they would win. Ephraim inspired that feeling within him.

Forde looked up at Renvall Castle, which he could see through the gaps in the trees, in a completely new light.

Just as Ephraim had predicted, the defenses at Renvall Castle were light.

The enemy was focused solely on chasing them, and was not even thinking about protecting the castle. The gate only had a few soldiers surrounding it, and even they had their guards down.

These guards, so relaxed they did not even have their weapons in their hands, flew into a panic at the surprise attack. The way they scrambled to find their weapons was even comedic. Ephraim’s army broke down the gate with ease, and invaded the castle grounds.

“Are you alright, Orson?” He noticed how pale the knight was, and it concerned him. “Your wounds from our last battle haven’t healed yet, have they? Don’t push yourself.”

“Understood…”

“Let’s go!” Ephraim readied his lance and rushed straight into the group of enemies.

Forde and Kyle eagerly followed along after him. Orson sighed deeply and prepared to protect them from behind.

With the soldiers having been taken advantage of with their guard down, Renvall Castle fell into complete chaos. There were even panicking soldiers who didn’t understand at all what was going on.

Ephraim swung his lance as if he was a rampaging angry god, cutting down any enemy soldier who tried to stand in his way, which put immense pressure on the Grado Army, who should have been the superior side in this battle. Since they’d had no interest in trying to defend the castle, the result was clear. Those on Grado’s side gradually fell, and Ephraim’s army was unyielding in their assault. They didn’t let up for even a moment.

When Ephraim's army rushed into the throne room, with Ephraim leading the charge, all that was left of the Grado Army was the unit’s commanding officer and the handful of soldiers surrounding him. Every single one of their faces stared at them in disbelief. The commanding officer yelled “Come at me!” with a determined look on his face, however, his soldiers’ movements were stiff.

When he was defeated, Ephraim’s soldiers all shouted out a victory cry.

However, Ephraim did not rejoice, rather, his expression stiffened. “There were more soldiers out elsewhere than there were inside the castle. When they return, we will not be able to defend it with these numbers. There is no reason for us to stay here for long, so we will march for the capital as we are now.”

“Yes, Milord!” Kyle nodded.

Just then, Forde ran up to him. The moment he’d seen that the castle had been seized, he'd left to watch over the perimeter.

“We’re in trouble, Lord Ephraim! The enemy has us surrounded!”

“What!?” Ephraim’s face paled. “Reinforcements? But it’s still too early…”

“What shall we do?”

Ephraim did not falter. He immediately began to stomp off. “We will escape! Dammit, so Grado was one step ahead of us after all…” He said, words dripping with regret as he exited the throne room.

Just as Forde had reported, Renvall Castle was surrounded by a large group of Grado soldiers. Their circular formation was several lines of soldiers strong. This unit was in a completely different league from the one that had been at the castle. And on top of it all, these troops were full of morale as well.

Even Ephraim could not hide his pained expression this time. Forde and Kyle were also pale, but gripped their weapons tightly, and readied themselves to protect Ephraim. They were already prepared to die in a situation like this. In their eyes was the determination to single handedly take as many enemies as they could down with them.

Across the bridge over the lake, a wyvern unit was there waiting for them. The man riding the largest, most majestic of the wyverns noticed Ephraim and his soldiers and flew down to them.

He was an eerie man with a terrifyingly coldhearted cackle. Though his face was pale, his body was well-toned. Ephraim assumed him to be the unit’s leader and faced him.

“I’m impressed! Your army is smaller than I thought. You attacked and seized the castle with these numbers? The rumors of your military prowess are true, Prince Ephraim.”

Ephraim glared at the man.

“I am Valter, the Moonstone, a general of Grado’s Imperial Army. It took a lot of effort to track you down. You just don’t know when to give up… Although I could never hate fresh prey.” Valter mocked him. His laugh was grating and sarcastic.

"But playtime is over. The palace has fallen and the king is dead. Now, you will surrender here."

"What…? Father is…?" Ephraim started shaking, but balled his hands into tight fists. He couldn't believe a word a man like him said. Surely Valter was just bluffing to crush their spirits.

Rather than press him for more information about his father, Ephraim asked Valter another question. "How were you able to surround the castle so quickly? It's as if you were able to somehow read our movements."

"I wonder. You'll figure it out eventually. It is of no concern to someone in your position. Throw down your weapons. Get on your knees, and beg for your life."

"Lord Ephraim, we'll back you up!!" Kyle quickly shouted out. He was always so calm that he was stiff and formal, and scolded Forde often for getting carried away too easily, but this time, it was him who was worked up.

However, Ephraim did not drop his weapon, instead glaring at Valter.

Valter laughed at the panicking Kyle. "Yes, writhe, you worms, writhe! Nothing is more enjoyable for me than seeing you dare to fight a hopeless battle!"

However, Ephraim did not move. Valter raised an eyebrow ever so slightly.

"I see, so you don’t really have the will to fight. Then surrender! Bleat like sheep, and beg for your lives!”

"I refuse." Ephraim answered coldly.

"What?"

"Valter, was it? I don't have time to play with the likes of you. We will rout your army and leave this castle.”

"Really?" Valter narrowed his eyes, however, the sarcastic smile vanished from his face.

"Are you telling me you're going to break through our formation? Do you seriously think you will escape from our wyvern knights? I did not think you were such a fool, Prince Ephraim."

"Say whatever you want. I do not pick battles that I cannot win." Ephraim's gaze did not move away from Valter as he asked the two knights behind him, "Kyle. Forde. You ready?"

The two answered without even a moment's hesitation.

"I have been prepared to give my life for my country since the moment I became a knight."

"It's because of moments like these that I could never quit my position as your retainer."

Kyle was stiff and Forde was lighthearted, but the two were resolute in their responses.

Valter's face twisted in displeasure. "Of course you would have two fools beyond saving following you. Then come face me, and I will teach you the difference in our power!"

"Let's go!" Ephraim called out to his soldiers, then grabbed his lance and started running.

#fire emblem #fe #fe8 #sacred stones #nintendo #gba #game boy advance #japan #japanese #translation #novel #light novel #fe8 novelization translation

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greycappedjester · 3 years

Note

"If ATFO isn’t up by the end of the month, feel free to ask me for an already written scene from one-shot from that universe." is the offer still open?

Gotcha! Sorry this is late 😬

Here is young Jason's POV. It's from right after Year 4 so before Tim and right after Jason was formally adopted (still in training to be Robin)

Here's the first eight pages

-------

Year 4.5: The Vacation

Alright, so here’s the thing.

Jason is a city boy. He grew up in a city. It was Gotham so it was a shit city and the part that he lived in even shittier; but, it was, without question, a city. And one where he had lived the entire fourteen years of his somewhat depressing life. Jason was familiar with said city.

So, Jason is decidedly not familiar with the so-called “great” outdoors. Fuck, he’s pretty sure the closest he’s come to nature is fights with Poison Ivy.

All of which is just too fricking bad because Jason also happens to be the recently adopted brother of Dick Grayson, who has for some unimaginable reason decided camping is the best way to spend a vacation.

And Jason is coming along.

Why? Because apparently Dick’s first thought had been this was a great time for brotherly bonding. Okay, actually his first was that it was perfect for Jason’s birthday but Jason had flat out refused and Dick moved it to the week after.

So, now, the newly fourteen year old is watching as Dick somehow crams a tent, sleeping bags, and camping gear into one of the Wayne’s very fancy and very compact sports cars.

Jason looks back wistfully to the manor door.

It’s probably not too late to back out.

But, as lame as it most definitely sounds, this camping trip actually seems really important to Dick. Like important enough to give Donna his Titans duties for a few days and ask Roy to be back up for Barbara in Gotham if she needed it. Plus, more terrifying, getting Barbara to agree to that.

And, as much as he refused to say it aloud, Jason could privately admit that Dick Grayson may have a very large part in why his recently somewhat depressing life is a now a lot less depressing.

Whatever. So, Jason might not actually think it’s too terrible to spend a few days with his older brother. Even with the camping.

That still doesn’t explain the other part.

“Why can’t we bring our uniforms again,” Jason complains, crossing his arms.

Dick doesn’t stop in his work to get the trunk shut. “Because that would mean we’re working and I’ve been informed by both Raquel and Zatanna that working vacations don’t actually count as vacations.” The trunk pops back open and Dick’s head disappears inside. “Besides, we won’t need them where we’re going.”

“Yeah, cause that doesn’t sound ominous,” Jason mutters under his breath.

“What was that?”

“Nothing!”

Dick emerges and the trunk finally closes with only a slight creak of protest. “Ha, there! What did I tell you? Circus performers always know the best packing tips.”

Jason is reluctantly somewhat impressed.

“Come on, get in! We’ve gotta get to the grounds while there’s still light to set up the tent.”

Jason slumps into the passenger seat. “Are you sure this isn’t like you stealthily training me in advanced wilderness survival or something?”

“It’s a vacation, Jason,” Dick insists, starting the car and backing down the drive way. “Believe me, if it was training, I’d pick a lot trickier place than twenty minutes out of Gotham city limits.”

Crap, if it was training, Jason would at least know it sucked for a reason. Doing it for fun makes it even worse.

“You know you’re an heir to like billions of dollars, right?”

“We’re the heirs,” Dick corrects because of course, he does.

Jason rolls his eyes. “I’m just saying if you wanted nature, we could go to like the Bahamas or the Galapagos or even just buy an island if that’s what you really wanted.”

“We don’t need an island.”

“Sure, we do. We could even use it as a secret prison for supervillains when we’re done. It would be great!”

Dick’s grinning, checking briefly before pulling into Gotham traffic. “Secret island prison bases definitely fall a bit too far into the supervillian category, Jay. They'll sue us for trademark infringement.”

“Still beats camping.”

“Camping’s fun!” Dick laughs. “Trust me. Millions of people do it every year. They can’t all be wrong.”

Per usual, Jason is far less trusting of the populace’s intelligence than Dick is.

As if to spite his skepticism, the hour or so drive out to the woods doesn’t go so bad. Jason commandeers the radio so they’re listening to a good classic rock station instead of being subjected to the weird mix of folk songs and pop music that Dick likes. The dark buildings and usual smog of Gotham starts to fade out around the forty minute mark, somewhere between one of Dick’s Titans stories and Jason complaining about a plot thread in the last book he read.

The drive is nice. Peaceful, even.

You know like most horror movies start.

“We’re here!”

Jason eyes the stretch of trees for any kind of sign or even a distinguishing feature. There’s nothing.

“Dick, this is definitely not a campsite.”

“It’s a few miles off,” Dick explains, dropping a bag in Jason’s arms. “I wanted to avoid the usual campgrounds in case the tabloid reporters found us. Don’t worry, I checked with the owner. No one’s used this stretch in years.”

Jason thinks there’s probably a reason for that since there’s not one hint of a trail in sight.

“Where are we even going to set up a tent?”

“Not sure,” Dick says way too cheerfully. “Finding a spot’s part of the fun!”

Jason gives him a look.

Dick rolls his eyes. “Relax, Jay. The owner told me there’s a stream about half a mile in. We’ll set up camp there.”

Jason still gives a token grumble just because.

By the time night rolls around, they do manage to find a camping spot, set up the tent, and Dick even starts up a small fire right in the middle of the campsite.

If pushed, Jason would admit the entire thing is a bit picturesque.

He bites down on his hot dog as Dick digs through the rest of their stuff.

“Oh! I almost forgot to tell you!” Dick pulls something out of the bag. “Look, I brought stuff to make s'mores!”

“Cool, hand them over” Jason grabs for the bag of marshmallows only for Dick to pull them away.

“Not yet, they’re for our last day. Gotta ration out the food.”

Jason rolls his eyes. “You’re ridiculous. Why not bring enough for every night?”

“Cause then it’s less special,” Dick answers sagely. “Think about it like a prize for surviving camping.”

Because Jason is the generous sort, he doesn’t even make a crack about “surviving”.

“So, okay, let’s say I buy that camping is a vacation,” he says instead between bites.

“It is a vacation.”

“Yeah, fine, sure. Real question though, why are we taking a vacation?” He waves a hand. “What ever happened to ‘crime never sleeps’ and everything?”

“I’ve never said that!”

“You said it to Babs last week!”

“That was so she’d help me run the Poison Ivy samples! That doesn’t count! She didn’t even believe me!”

“Definitely counts!”

Dick rolls his eyes. “You know most kids don’t need a reason to go on vacation before school starts.”

“So, that’s what this is,” Jason accuses. “This is for you! You wanted a vacation before college!”

Dick turns his face down to poke at the fire. “I’m not going to college...not this year anyway.”

Jason frowns. “I thought you got accepted to Gotham U. Shit, I know you did. Alfred still has the letter hanging on the fridge.”

Dick shrugs. “I’m going to turn it down. There’s too much going on right now. Gotham. The Titans. I’ve gotta start sitting in at the Wayne Enterprise meetings soon, too. I don’t have time for classes.”

“Pretty sure, the classes would help with the Wayne Enterprise crap,” Jason says. “And you know Roy and Donna can help with the Titans and Babs and I can cover more in Gotham if--”

“Jay, it’s fine,” Dick cuts him off. “I need to choose what to focus on and it just can’t be college right now. It’s okay.”

Jason wants to argue more but then Dick’s continuing

“And, hey, I know camping’s not exactly your thing; but, I’m glad you decided to come anyway.” Dick gives him a blinding grin. “You deserve to do some normal summer stuff after all the Robin training. And I’m glad I get to spend some time with my favorite little brother.

Jason glares, ignoring the way his cheeks have gone warm. “Shut up, I’m your only brother. And you know I hate it when you say stuff like that.”

“No, you don’t,” Dick says, shit eating grin in place.

Jason flings the bag of hot dog buns at him.

He catches it, still grinning. The asshole.

-----

Something that’s always jarring but becomes really fucking obvious once he thinks about it is the fact that Dick gets nightmares.

Of course, he does. How could he not? Jason’s doesn’t know why he never expects it.

It’s not even loud nightmares with like screaming and flailing arms and shit. It’s just these short, sharp little gasps as his body goes entirely too stiff and face twists in pain. Sometimes, Jason thinks that’s worse than screaming.

Jason shifts in his sleeping bag, turning to face the top of the tent. He briefly contemplates waking Dick up; but, he knows from experience, it won’t help much. Better to let him get some rest until the nightmare goes away on its own.

Only problem is that Jason still can’t fall asleep. It’s kind of funny. He’s never really thought of himself as a picky sleeper before. Fuck knows he’s slept on way too many of Gotham’s mold infested roofs back when his dad was on parole. But, there’s something about the cold feeling of hard dirt that he swears he can feel even under the layers of sleeping bag and tent.

Camping sucks.

Screw it. Jason’s not just going to lay here all night. Least he can do is get up and explore around the campsite so he can have a better idea of whatever “fun” activities he’s sure Dick has planned for tomorrow.

He slips out of the tent without waking up Dick--which actually does serve as a fairly good challenge for his new Robin training--and heads into the woods, careful to keep note of how far away he goes from camp. He feels ridiculously like he should have bread crumbs or some other kind of fairy tale stuff to track his way through the forest.

He swears if he survived living in Crime Alley, Black Mask, and a freaking explosion just to get lost and die in the woods, he’s going to haunt Dick forever. Jason the Unfriendly Ghost.

He gets to the stream that he and Dick found earlier so at least he’s not that lost.

SNAP!

Jason’s head whips around in the direction of the noise.

Nothing.

He lets out a long breath. Dumb, of course, it’s nothing. It’s the forest. Forests make weird noises. It’s reason #357 why they’re terrible.

SNAP!

Okay...that definitely sounded like something big….but, maybe it’s something normal like a tree branch snapping or--

Snap!...Snap!...Snap!

That’s footsteps.

Jason moves back into the tree line, crouching down until he’s covered in the darkness of the bushes. His hands run over the ground, trying to find anything even remotely useful other than a slightly pointy stick.

Snap!...Snap!

Shit, he really is going to die here, isn’t he? In this stupid forest before he even gets to go out as Robin. Of all the dumb fucking--

Snap!...snap!...snap...snap.

The footsteps are getting further away. Echoing deeper and deeper into the forest on the other side of the stream.

snap...snap...snap…

Jason listens, in slight amazement, as the sounds slowly fade off into the distance until they finally disappear. Slowly, Jason counts in his mind to sixty, then a hundred and twenty, then two hundred.

On three hundred, he bolts--tearing through the forest in the direction of the camp until he finally catches sight of the obnoxiously bright yellow of the tent Dick bought, shining in front of him like a heavenly beacon.

He tears through the opening, breathing heavily, just a half a second before there’s an arm jammed hard against his neck.

“Jay?”

The pressure disappears and then Dick’s looking down at him with wide eyes and a slight blush. “Sorry about that. Was surprised. What’s wrong?”

Jason’s heart rate’s finally slowing down. And here in the safety of the tent, in the face of Dick’s patented concerned face, admitting to getting freaked out by noises in the woods seems beyond stupid.

“Nothing,” he mutters. “Just thought I heard something?”

“Heard something?”

“Yeah, like footsteps.”

Dick frowns. “We’re on private camp land. There shouldn’t be anyone around here. You sure?”

Jason shakes his head, face feeling hot, as he sits back down on his sleeping bag. “No. Don’t worry about it. Like I said, it was probably nothing. Maybe it’s just a mountain lion that’s gonna eat us in our sleep.”

Dick pats his shoulder. “Mountain lions don’t really live in this region, Jay.”

Jason rolls his eyes before turning over pointedly to try to get some more sleep.

“It’s bears you need to worry about.”

#atfo

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shooter-nobunagun · 3 years

Text

Horny on Main (R-18)

//Random smut time; sort of a continuation from “mind games” AKA Sio discovers Adam’s collection and watches it for herself.

She stared at the DVD in her hands; even though both the title and image were, for all intents and purposes, about as vanilla as you could get, still Sio couldn’t help but blush at the thought of holding such a…lurid piece of material between her hands.

‘Calm down Sio, this is perfectly normal; it’s okay for girls to be interested in this stuff too…’

Gulping, she took one last glance around, as if half-expecting Adam to waltz in any moment—even though she knew for a fact he was currently away on a recon mission and she’d definitely be the first to know when he returned. Though she’d initially chewed him out for watching porn, a part of her curiosity couldn’t help but be piqued; what was it all about, anyway? Growing up in Japan meant the sniper definitely saw more than her fair share of 'adult’ videos and hentai offerings—down to the most depraved, obscene scenarios that bombarded her eyes every time she stepped foot inside Akihabara. And yes, she admitted to occasionally flipping through some more “grown up” fare when browsing the bookstores, though still images (and especially anime style) weren’t the same as live-action.

“B-Besides, I’m his girlfriend, I have a perfectly valid excuse for looking at this, uh, stuff…” she muttered to herself in an attempt to work up her courage. Sio vaguely wondered what Adam’s reaction would be if she ever suggested they watch porn together. Apparently, according to magazines this was a thing couples commonly engaged in, but Sio felt they’d both probably die of embarrassment first before getting turned on.

Which was why she was currently locked away in her (very) private quarters, laptop glowing almost ominously before her as she clumsily shook out the disc, her nerves getting the better of her. “My Own Service Maid”… a photograph of a petite woman in a classic maid outfit graced the cover, looking over her shoulder in either an embarrassed or shameful manner (Sio couldn’t tell) as her skirt was lifted until it reached just underneath her butt.

Sio gulped, then popped in the DVD before she could change her mind. Though her room was pretty soundproof, still she made sure the volume wasn’t too loud; lord knew how she was going to explain away the lewd noises if someone happened to hear. ‘Not that I’m super quiet myself, but hey…’

A couple of obligatory logos and copyright jargon later, Sio found herself almost mesmerized at the scene on her laptop: a young woman in a maid outfit, whom (she assumed) was supposed to be cleaning a mansion, but instead had gotten sidetracked and was now shyly teasing herself with a paintbrush she’d found. The music was distractingly cheesy, and Sio wondered for a moment if all pornos were this low-budget.

“Oh, master, please…I’m so wet, I can’t stand it anymore…”

Sio cringed inwardly at how cliché the lines were, but at the same time, she couldn’t deny her body was starting to heat up. As the maid’s actions started growing bolder, the sniper was definitely starting to feel the tell-tale signs of arousal: nipples perking up against her bra and to her slight shock, a faint, pulsing throb started up between her legs.

‘Whoa, I’m actually getting turned on by porn…and watching a girl, no less…’ Though Sio wasn’t sure if she was queer, she’d definitely had crushes on both genders before—and sometimes wondered if she’d have wound up dating Asao-san, if it weren’t for all the e-gene/DOGOO business and she ended up meeting Adam instead.

“My clit is so hard…I’m getting wet, master…” The maid had shed her panties now and was blatantly masturbating with her legs spread wide, her large chest heaving with desperate pants as the paintbrush was pushed inside her cunt; the maid pumping and stirring the makeshift toy and as juices spilled out, Sio felt something hot stain her own panties.

‘Damn it…I’m really getting wet from this…’ Face flushing with a heady lust, Sio began surreptitiously removing her uniform, not wanting to break out of this strange, trance-like state she was in. As the maid on-screen continued her self-pleasure, Sio felt her own hands mirroring the movements; one hand slipped underneath her shirt to tease her stiff nipples, while the other wriggled inside her panties and Sio couldn’t help but jerk slightly as her fingertips brushed against her clit, which was apparently swollen and already quite sensitive before she even began touching herself.

“Haah, hah…this is, pretty exciting…” Gulping, her she couldn’t help but whine slightly as the finger squeezed inside her own tight slit, now hot and sticky with her own juices as Sio began masturbating to the porn. ‘I wonder why I’m so turned on…is it because, I can do the same things she can on the screen?’ Being able to experience the same type of hedonistic pleasure as the girl in the film…biting her lips, Sio kicked off her panties, now lying half-naked on sheets that were steadily getting soaked as she played with herself.

‘Okay, I can see why people watch AVs…it’s super hot…’ All sorts of naughty thoughts were running through her head as the sniper started panting from her own fingers, nevermind what was happening on her laptop. The camera was now zoomed in to the maid’s crotch, giving Sio an incredibly erotic and detailed view of a perfectly pink, shaven pussy, dripping with so much juices that she had to wonder if it wasn’t staged. ‘Wow, it’s so pink and there’s no hair…I wonder if Adam would like it if I waxed…’ The paintbrush from the beginning of the film had made its return and was now brushing in quick, hard strokes against the maid’s throbbing clit and Sio felt her fingers reaching down to do the same, unconsciously matching the tempo on-screen.

“Ah~ I-I’m going to cum! I can’t take it anymore~!”

“S-Same…” Sio moaned, stimulating her swollen clit as her fingers became increasingly slick. “Hnng...gah, oh god I’m definitely gonna cum soon…” Her back was arching and the knot inside her was tight to the point of almost-pain; she could feel her inner walls clenching and pulsing around her digits, begging for release.

A second later the maid climaxed, squirting everywhere on the floor as she cried for what seemed like forever but Sio wasn’t even paying attention—not when she was being wracked with her own orgasm, so strong it left her gasping between the pulsating waves of pleasure while she kept rubbing her clit, trying to keep the stimulation going for as long as she could. “Ooh~ I-I’m, c, cumming…I’m cumming so hard…!” Moaning, the sniper rolled over on her side, panting for air as she gingerly pressed against her clit, letting the little aftershakes quiver all throughout her body as she lazily thrust inside, feeling her inner muscles pulsate slowly and coating her fingers with her own cum.

“Oh…man. I can’t believe I came that hard…jeeze, I made a mess too,” Sio groaned as she slowly sat up, the DVD having ended long before. Heaving a satisfied sigh, she ejected the disc and put it back into the case, intent on slipping it back into Adam’s ‘secret’ collection before he returned. “Maybe I should apologize to him…I have to admit, that was really hot…”

Though the sniper had just satisfied herself minutes earlier, her libido-hazed brain wondered what other secret goodies lay in her boyfriend’s collection as she now sat in his room… ‘I-I mean, there’s no harm in just taking a look…’ Her face turned a bright red as she pulled out another disc at random, this one with a far more provocative cover than the previous: a buxom woman with her ass lifted into the air, servicing a huge man with her mouth while another pounded from behind.

“Uh, maybe something a little more...tame...”

After browsing around though, Sio could tell that Adam was definitely more than just a little vanilla when it came to the bedroom. Aside from that one threesome DVD, most of them (from what she could tell) seemed to be your standard heterosexual couplings, with some occasional girl-on-girl action. But even then the covers seemed to indicate a more romantic theme, rather than any of those weird, graphically-violent offerings she often saw in hentai. Despite the situation—that is, the sniper hunched over in a corner of her boyfriend’s room secretly perusing his porn stash for herself—Sio couldn’t help the smile on her face and a warm, fluttery feeling in her chest. “Adam...you’re such a sweetheart, deep down...” It shouldn’t have come as a surprise that even his tastes in porn leaned towards the cheesy, romantic kind.

“Ah...how about this one?” A beautiful woman lay on a bearskin rug, completely naked save for a handsome cloak. “Relaxation” the title read, and judging from the short summary on the back, it seemed to be a low-key, romantic morning romp between two lovers. “Seems pretty safe, and kinda romantic...”

Before she knew it Sio was once again seated on a bed, her laptop glowing but this time she was prepared: clothes completely off with the sniper nestled comfortably against Adam’s pillows, his lingering scent adding another layer of arousal aside from the video. ‘Adam...wonder when you’ll be back. I gotta make sure I’m done before he returns...’ Her worries were soon forgotten however, as the video started playing and Sio felt her body ready itself again in anticipation, fingers already lazily fingering her clit throughout the intro.

If it weren’t for the fact the two leads were pretty much naked, Sio might as well have been watching a movie. There was even a decent semblance of a plot, which apparently involved the woman’s lover having just returned from a business trip, and the couple was now getting ready to ‘celebrate’ with some spicy activities. The female actress was certainly much more buxom and voluptuous than the sniper’s own slender build, but at least her breasts didn’t look fake, and to Sio’s surprise there was a shock of matching pubic hair between her legs. It was unusual for porn to feature such ‘natural’ looks, but Sio liked it; it made things more authentic than the usual staged drivel that was often peddled. The male lead though, was built very similarly to Adam: tall and handsome, with ripped muscles and long-ish hair, but as the two actors got down and busy, she could see he was gentle, too.

“Damn, I guess I really do have a thing for muscles...” She groaned, easily transposing Adam’s face onto the actor’s impressive body. She never really noticed but after getting together with Adam, Sio realized that whenever she saw a well-muscled body, she couldn’t help but stare and admire them. Newton had caught her once pouring over a risqué magazine spread, and gently teased the sniper about her ‘muscle fetish’.

“I-It’s not a fetish! Is it a crime to look at buff guys or something... Besides, how can it be a fetish if I’m grossed out by those macho, body-building types?” Sio put the magazine down in a huff, embarrassed at having been caught indulging in her fantasies.

“Even so, it seems pretty obvious what your type is, no? And that is, men with well-defined bodies.” Jess purred, opening the mag right back to the spread on that year’s promising male athletes. “I noticed you seem to forgo the slender, ‘pretty boy’ type your country’s manga is so famous for...”

“I-I, th-that’s not—”

“Don’t be shy, Sio! I think it’s cute. It’s good to know what you want and don’t want. Lucky for you then, that Adam keeps up with his training, hmm?”

Sio walked out of the room with her face in a furious blush and an urgent need for some ‘alone time’.

Luckily for her the camera was an equal opportunist, giving the sniper abundant shots of both the male and female actors. Especially as the foreplay on the screen heated up, the woman now using her well-endowed assets to give her lover a tit-job. Like most porn stars, his penis was clean and bare with no foreskin, but that didn’t stop the sniper’s eyes from following each vigorous thrust, his powerful hips moving like a jackhammer. Although her breasts were nowhere near the size needed to pull this off, there were definitely other places where Adam was able to thrust with almost the same level of ferocity... Sio closed her eyes briefly as she remembered their last tryst, right before he headed off on this current mission. They’d decided to change things up a bit, doing it from behind for once; she could still feel the sensations of his thick cock pounding away inside her, fists clenching the sheets as she held on for dear life. When she finally woke up the next day, her nether regions were still aching tenderly, and during her shower she discovered (to her dismay) his hands had left some minor bruises along her hips. Still, it’d been worth it to be fucked completely, utterly senseless like that. Despite his brash attitude, Sio discovered it usually took a bit of coaxing on her part to convince Adam to not hold back—though she knew a part of it stemmed from his fear of hurting her again.

“Kiyaaa! You came so much...”

“That’s because your tits are too gorgeous, babe.”

She opened her eyes again just in time to see the man cum all over the woman’s face and breasts, the sticky, white liquid looking so much like icing. Her inner walls tightened and she took a break, licking her fingers as the leads exchanged some dialogue and actually moved the plot along. “Mmm...it tastes more sour today...oh well.” With her fingers now well-lubricated with her own saliva, she resumed thrusting a finger in and out, keeping the pace steady as she felt herself getting wetter. Especially as man’s statuesque backside filled the computer screen and she gave a slight moan, wishing Adam was here instead.

“Adam...I want to touch your body...” A hand reached up to massage her breast; using slow, gentle circles until her nipple perked into a sensitive, pink point. Those sexy six-pack abs, his chiseled ass and the cords of steel muscles running between his shoulders...whining about the lack of his presence, Sio continued touching herself, casually glancing at the muscles on-screen and thinking about Adam’s instead. This guy was definitely strong; she could tell by the way his biceps rippled while he spread the girl’s legs, preparing to eat her out. The view zoomed in to the girl’s crotch, all slick and wet with cum and saliva as the man’s tongue flicked about her sizable clit.

‘I wish Adam was doing that to me right now...’ Feminine cries soon echoed from the speakers, Sio ignoring pretty much everything but the actual on-screen action. Her fingers rubbed her clit a little harder as the woman started shaking from the impending orgasm, Sio getting an eyeful of gushing as her own core started throbbing. “N-Nng...uhhn, I’m getting close...” Her own juices were already making a sizable stain on the sheets as she thrust her fingers in and out, making sure to pay special attention to her little pearl. “Mmmph...it’s good...oh man, my clit feels so good...it’s so sensitive, i-if I keep going, I’m definitely, gonna...!” Her stomach was clenching as the actress reached a climax, screaming and squirting everywhere. Wishing she’d had the foresight to bring her vibrator, instead the sniper made do with her own fingers, sticking them inside and letting her walls convulse around them as she desperately humped her hand—rubbing all around the hood, underneath, even pinching the nub slightly as her hips jolted.

“Nnngg...uhhn, it’s coming...!” Thrusting her hips into the air, Sio felt the first twinges of her orgasm start pulsing through, before everything slammed down and she fell back onto the bed, jerking unevenly as she kept up the stimulation, rubbing her clit every so often and shivering from the smaller quakes. “Oooh...god, it’s so good...!” The fingers inside her were slick and sticky with her own fluids, the inner muscles still pulsing strongly as she tried to ride it out for as long as she could. Her head was buzzing with a bit of static sound, the actors’ voices strangely muffled as she gasped for breath, gently massaging her stiff breasts and patting her damp, sensitive crotch as the high slowly receded.

“Damn...I can’t believe that felt so good...man, does porn really make this better...?” She gazed down at her hand, which definitely needed a good washing. “I can’t believe I’m still thinking about continuing...why am I so horny today all of a sudden...” This was her second masturbation session in the span of an hour, and the film was barely at the halfway point. She glanced at the door, and then at the screen again, which now showed the couple getting ready for the ‘main event’.

‘Might as well...I’ve got time...’ Besides, just watching a few more minutes of the porn turned her on again, Sio feeling herself getting wet. She gently stroked her pink clit, careful to not be too rough as she was still sensitive from earlier; still, pleasant shivers ran up and down her spine as she lay in a tangle of sheets.

The couple in the video were really going at it, now. Loud, lewd sounds were coming from the speakers and Sio gingerly turned it down just a touch, though a finger remained on her clit, swirling and teasing it until she once again felt the small shivers of an impending climax. The sniper bit her lip and dug back into the pillows, fingers stirring her insides and spreading the sticky nectar all around. This one wasn’t going to be quite as explosive as the previous one, but the pleasure was building up at a solid, steady rate. The sniper spared a glance at the screen, which showed the male literally hammering away at his lover, his balls slapping with reckless abandon as their juices squelched all over. Biting her lips, Sio started thrusting faster, mesmerized by the action and her own anticipation of what was about to happen. That moment right before the peak, what it felt like to hang onto the edge before tipping over... The couple in the film was getting closer and so was she.

“Nnng...ha, haah, ahn...!” Her eyes closed as the first powerful rush of pleasure cascaded over; the familiar pinpricks of electricity, then a burst of heat that shook her to her very core. Sio gasped for air as the waves gradually subsided, gently running her fingers between her wet thighs.

She lay there, catching her breath and watching with hooded eyes at the rest of the film. Sometime during her climax, the couple in the DVD had finished as well, and now they were engaged in some fluffy pillow-talk across the bearskin rug from the cover. She was wondering when they heck they made the transition to the floor when the door suddenly opened, Sio looking up in shock; it was too late to do anything though and unfortunately, the afterglow made her too relaxed to move.

“Sio? What in th...” The room’s owner was staring wide-eyed at her, cheeks rapidly flushing as he took in the scene before him.

“A-Adam! Uh, t-tadaima...” Sio smiled weakly at her boyfriend, a nervous giggle escaping her lips as she half-heartedly tried to cover her bare, dripping crotch. “U-Um, you’re back...”

“...Yes...okaeri,” Adam answered on instinct, still trying to comprehend just what the hell was going on. Clearly, the sniper had been enjoying some personal time, but why his room? And more importantly, just what exactly was the open laptop for? Before he could say anything else though, the ending credits started playing, and Adam instantly recognized the cheesy outro of a very particular porn title.

He took a very deep breath.

“...Alright, I’m not even gonna ask what the bloody hell’s going on.” He dropped the duffel to the floor, not sure how to react or where to begin. “There a, reason you decided to commandeer my bed in particular? And my...entertainment, for that matter?”

Sio squirmed uncomfortably, not sure if Adam was peeved or just confused. Or a combination of both. Granted, this was not the first time he’d caught her while masturbating unawares—even though all those instances had been unintentional, she wondered if there was someone up there who just liked them to be in compromising situations—but this time, he’d caught her watching porn as well.

And right after she’d chewed him out for it, to boot.

‘Yikes...talk about eating my own words...’

Adam remained silent, only a white brow raised in a questioning manner as he stood next to the bed, arms crossed. He tapped his foot and tilted his head to the side, as if to ask ‘well?’

“Erm, I...I’m sorry, Adam...I-I was curious about, you know—p porn,” he didn’t say anything, but merely nodded, “a-and I...couldn’t help it; I know I made such a big fuss before, but...then I started wondering what it really was all about, anyway, and then...u-um...” Her voice started quivering and a wave of guilt washed over her, the realization of just what she’d done hitting her full-on. She didn’t even finish her explanation before a sob choked out, and the next thing she knew tears were falling, the sniper crying and wiping her tears haphazardly. “I-I’m, s-s-sorry...!”

She couldn’t look him in the eyes, not like this; why did she always do things without really thinking them through? ‘I really am such an idiot at times; some strategist I am,’ Sio thought glumly, it was a wonder Adam still put up with her antics. The bed creaked as Adam sat down and gently closed the laptop lid, pulling her into his lap.

“...Oh Sio.” He sighed, not saying much else but instead brushed her hair back. “...Sometimes I just...don’t quite know what to make of you, y’know?” He wiped her tears with his sleeve, before handing her a tissue for her nose. “While I am rather indignant at the fact that you had the gall to tell me off for indulging in smut, only to turn right around and sneak about my collection,” Sio winced, “I’m more wound up about the fact that you felt you couldn’t talk to me about this.” His face was not angry, but she could tell from his gaze that he was serious. “I can understand why you were upset at first—but if you really were curious, couldn’t you have just asked me about it?”

His words made her feel even worse, Sio needing a few more minutes of quiet tears before she regained enough composure. “I...I-I know...and I’m sorry I said all that...” A shudder ran down her as she tried to calm down. “It...wasn’t intentional; but sometimes, I just miss you a lot...a-and I feel, really...” Sio squirmed, burning with shame at her behavior, “...I swear, it feels like I can’t control it sometimes—I-I just, get so...horny...it’s like I can’t think straight...”

“...And so, in your, uh...lust-induced haze, you...decided to impulsively watch my porn?”

“...I’m sorry...I’m such a terrible person—!”

Sio squeaked as Adam flipped her onto the bed, hovering over her with a stern expression on his face. “Y’know, I really wish you’d stop ragging on yourself like that; for the last time, Sio Ogura, you are not a terrible person or anything of that sort. I thought we made that clear already...” A hand reached down and gently stroked her cheek, Sio shivering from such a simple gesture. “You’re the one I care about the most—the most important thing to me, ever. So to hear you think of yourself in such a, a...disparaging manner...it hurts me too, you know.”

“Adam...” His tenderness towards her could be even more overwhelming than his physical touch, sometimes. “I, I’m...I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. I guess I just feel really stupid for blowing up at you, and now I’m eating my own words...” Sio couldn’t help but blush at her own blunder. “I’m...sorry I was so harsh about you watching porn...at the time, i just didn’t know what to make of it...I guess I overreacted a bit,” she heard Adam mutter under his breath ‘a bit?’, “b-but, now that I’ve...done the same, I...change my mind.” She swallowed thickly; even though Sio did feel bad about berating Adam, her pride still took a blow. “I...I’m fine if you want to watch porn in your own time. Especially when I’m not around...I miss you a lot, too...so I’m sorry...”

The room was silent for a bit, Sio wishing she could just crawl under a rock and wallow in shame. Adam meanwhile, had a rather peculiar expression on his face as he attempted to take this all in stride. Even now, it struck him at how Sio was able to surprise him, time and time again. Perhaps not all surprises were particularly pleasant, but it kept him on his toes.

“Well...I appreciate your apology, Sio Ogura. And I respect your humility in keeping an open mind.” To be fair, he’d been prepared to basically give it up if it meant keeping her happy, but with this sudden turn of events...perhaps a god existed, after all. “In that case, I...wouldn’t object to you watching my, stuff...or if you wanted to, y’know,” at this he blushed to the very roots of his white hair, “...watch something together...”

Sio’s eyes grew wide as saucers at that suggestion. ‘This is exactly what those magazines said...! So it is actually a couple thing...’ Her body flushed hotly as her eyes swept over to the unassuming set of discs on the shelf.

“W, Well...I-I, have to admit I’d be curious to try it...” Adam raised an eyebrow at her bold response, “I-I mean, I’m just saying I’ve read about it and since I...was so rude to you and all—” Sio’s arms were flailing all over the place, the sniper in a bit of a panic at everything that had happened in the past 10 minutes. As if the situation wasn’t already awkward enough, but at least Adam seemed to have forgiven her for sneaking around his room and using his material.

“Also, I’m...still kind of horny...” Sio gave a nervous laugh, anxiously crossing her legs in an attempt to hide her wet thighs.

Both of them blushed beet red at the implications.

“M-Maybe, you can recommend something? N-Not anything extreme but just...I dunno, one of your...favorites?”

Adam was so stunned you could have pushed him over with a feather. Here was his girlfriend, who was usually so shy and stuttering and prone to nosebleeds whenever he got too close, now sitting on his bed half-naked and proposing he choose some smut for both of them. He gave a small nod, before going through his collection.

A few minutes later a case landed on the bed, the sniper craning her neck to read the text. “An Openly-Exposed Hot Spring...” Sio raised an eyebrow at the name. “A...voyeuristic title?” She gave him a side eye.

“Hey now, don’t judge a book by its cover; it’s actually not what it seems—well, not all of it anyway. And besides, you’re one to talk, Miss High School Peeping Tom,” he gave her just as pointed a glance back.

Sio groaned. “Oh come on, that was an accident! You’re never gonna let that go, are you,” she groused.

“Considering you made no attempts to look away, no I’m not going to let you forget that anytime soon.” Adam replied evenly. Sio grumbled, but she couldn’t deny it. “Well then, if you wouldn’t mind budging up a bit there, squirt...”

She scooted to the side, Adam sighing as he climbed onto the bed. There was a moment of hesitation as he eyed the damp spots, but then shrugged and sat down. “So that explains the laptop, I guess...”

“Er, yeah...sorry...actually, I...already watched another one earlier...b-before I even came to your room...”

Adam nearly choked on his own spit at Sio’s sheepish revelation. “Wh-What?! You what? Wait, did you just say you...watched more than one?”

“...Yes...sorry...”

“I-I uh, well...alright, sure. ‘S fine...I guess...” Adam gave a resigned shrug. His brain was basically on overload at this point from the myriad of things he’d learned about the sniper in the past couple of minutes. Not that it was bad, mind you, just...definitely surprising. Including the fact that apparently, the sniper had one hell of a sex drive. “So...out of curiosity, which one did you...choose?”

“Uh, it was like the service maid one...”

‘The solo female one...?’ While he’d always suspected, the fact that Sio admitted to watching and masturbating to a woman...

“...So, I see you’re a woman of culture, too...” The sniper blushed and covered her face. “By the way, don’t take this the wrong way or anything, but...are you, perchance, also attracted to girls?”

“E-Eh? Uh, hmm...” The sniper was caught off-guard by the sincerity of his question. “...To be honest, I’ve never really thought about it much, but...now that you say it, maybe? I mean thinking on it now, I did have crushes on girls when I was younger...but I didn’t realize it as such.”

Adam nodded. “Sure, that makes sense. Do you consider yourself...bisexual then? I-I don’t mean anything by it, just curious is all.”

Sio blinked. “Bi...sexual? What’s that?”

“It means you’re attracted to both genders, male and female.”

The girl sat with her finger on her chin, deep in thought. “I...dunno. I’m not sure I’d say that right now, since it’s not something I’m really familiar with...but, it is possible. Or, I guess maybe I am queer, to some extent...” She shrugged. “Hey, who knows, right? Maybe I’ll figure it out later on.”

Adam couldn’t help but smile. “Sure, love. Anywho, apologies for that odd line of questioning, but...it just seemed like something that was likely. Guess you could say curiosity killed the cat.” Without another word he popped in the disc, Sio nervously squirming underneath the covers as the disc started playing.

‘I can’t believe this is actually happening...’

The first couple of minutes were wrought with silence, save for the incredibly stilted, canned dialogue coming from the video. Sio could hardly look at Adam, much less try anything, and it seemed the feeling was mutual. Maybe it was too soon to be engaging in something like this, when she’d barely just watched her first porn.

Swallowing her nervousness, Sio turned her attention to the screen. Some hapless milquetoast office worker had found a hole in the wall separating the two baths, and was now peeping on a seemingly-deserted women’s bath—save for one buxom bather. Naturally, the peeper started jerking himself off as he discovered this opportunity, his cock growing stiffer and Sio blushed the camera made it clear that this pervert was well endowed.

“Well, I suppose if nobody’s around...”

The camera switched and now it was the lady’s turn to indulge in some self-care. Fingers plunged into her swollen pussy lips, the water churning and splashing as the actress on screen fingered herself with abandon. As the action continued the sniper felt her own core tighten, as it always did when she was aroused.

‘Oh boy...I’m getting turned on...’

“U-Um...sorry about this...b, but I’m kind of, uh...” She noticed his face turn slightly in her direction, “my body...” Her insides pulsed again as the moans from the video got louder, forcing Sio to rub her thighs together to ease the pressure somewhat.

“If you need to...relieve yourself, feel free; that’s kind of the point of this.” Still, even with Adam’s encouragement her fingers stopped at her mound, unable to bring herself to actually go through. Especially since Adam himself remained so still she had to check to see if he was breathing.

“...Man, this is...awkward...m-maybe we shouldn’t do this...” On one hand, she was still fairly aroused, but on the other, this bizarre situation was kind of killing the mood. “I just...I don’t know, it feels weird..” Maybe it was the video, or maybe it was the fact that, despite being together, Sio still considered masturbating to be a private activity.

The video continued playing for a few minutes, both holders sitting in an incredibly strained silence as they watched the peeper now crawling over the fence and getting it on with the female bather. ‘Ugh, I’d rather just have Adam do that to me instead of watching...wait...’ She gave a surreptitious glance to her left; Adam looked so placid she wouldn’t be surprised if he started taking a nap.

“A-Ano, Adam...?” He twitched as she gently poked his shoulder, but nodded, “u-um, I have an idea...”

“...Yeh? You wanna stop?”

Sio shook her head. “N-No—well if this doesn’t do anything then we might as well—but, since I feel really awkward doing this to myself, c-can, could you...” she took a deep breath, “d, do the same thing to me as...the video? I-I think, I’d...prefer it if you touch me instead.”

“...Ah.” Leave it to Sio to come up with a solution, despite being more inexperienced; Adam supposed she wasn’t now head strategist for nothing. “In that case...” Taking off his jacket, he handily lifted the girl into his lap, aware of the wetness still coating her thighs. “So, like this, ‘ey?” His voice took on a mischievous tone as he slid a finger down, right into her tight slit—same as the video. A whimper from the sniper told him all he needed to know; turning the volume down a tad, he leaned in closer, holding her tight against him as his finger started pumping in and out. “My my, we’ve ourselves a rather naughty little Kitty-chan today, don’t we? First you go sneaking about my personal belongings, then you finger-fuck yourself on my bed...and you still aren’t satisfied?” His hot breath fanned the shell of her ear and Adam felt the sniper quiver, her inner walls sucking his digit in until it was buried to the knuckle. “Tsk tsk, you really are quite the pervert, aren’t you?”

“A-Ahhn...ahn, I-I, I’m—aah—sorry—!” Sio momentarily forgot about the video as Adam started to finger her, all the while whispering incredibly dirty words into her ear. He rarely got in the mood like this, but sometimes the ‘Jack’ persona would come out, if she pushed him far enough. “I, know I’m a pervert...I can’t help it, you feel too good...” Right as she said that his fingers plunged straight to her g-spot, Sio crying out from the sensitivity. “Ah—! Ah, oh god, it feels too good...m-my insides, it’s so hot...!” Breathy moans soon overtook the video’s dialogue, Sio glancing between the on-screen action and Adam’s hand that was working her sopping cunt. “Nng...A, Adam, m-my clit, too...”

“Oh? So demanding, Kitty-chan,” he teased, but obliged with his other hand; Sio let out a loud moan as he pinched the pink nub. “So, how’s this working out? Better?” Now that he was actually touching her, the video seemed less distracting and more like a background mood-setter, especially with the way they were almost mirroring the on-screen action. “You’re soaked...”

Sio couldn’t even muster a response, instead nodding as she panted from the stimulation. ‘So hot; everything is so hot...’ She massaged her small breasts, rubbing the stiff points between her fingers that caused her to arch her back. “Haaaahnn...it’s too good...! When you touch me like this... It feels amazing...your, fingers...!” She moaned and bit her hand in an attempt to not completely lose control, though it was difficult when Adam was scissoring her insides while teasing her clit. Sometimes it boggled her mind how such a small, seemingly insignificant little part of her body could unleash such pleasure when stimulated the right way. Though Sio was happy that Adam appreciated her breasts no matter how small they were, she wouldn’t deny her favorite place was that small, secret bud between her legs: a delicate pink that was now flushed a deep red and swollen with arousa. Drops of nectar leaked out and down onto the sheets, nevermind his trousers that were now stained.

“That makes me quite chuffed to hear, love,” he licked her ear and she squealed, “seems my dear Kitty-chan always has some devious ideas up her sleeve...” Hot nectar flowed down his hand and onto the sheets, Sio moaning as he curled his fingers inside to stroke her g-spot. Her cries were almost synced with that of the video at times, Adam having nearly forgotten about it—he casually glanced at the laptop, where the ‘hero’ of the show was now also fucking the actress into oblivion. Such deviant behavior...but, there was no way he could deny how hard it made him, given how readily Sio admitted porn turned her on.

“Nnngg! How...does it feel...so, good...!” Panting, Sio fell against Adam’s broad chest, needing a bit of a break from all the stimulation; Adam sensed this and his fingers slowed inside her, though not completely stopping, lazily thrusting in and out. When her sex drive kicked in, it really went into overdrive. At first it was scary how high her libido was; it seemed like every other moment she was thinking about having sex, either with Adam or simply masturbating by herself—as often as two or even three times a day. But gradually, it did balance itself out. Though sex was still a major and integral part of their relationship, so too was the emotional support they provided for one another.

Screeching akin to a banshee’s wail grabbed both their attentions, as the porn reached the final act. The ex-peeper now furiously bounced the woman in his lap with white cum squelching out, all the while accompanied by the strangely-cheerful, elevator music background track. Ignoring the dissonance between the screaming and the soundtrack, Adam focused on the action itself.

“M-Mmnn...mou, Adam you stopped...” The sniper pouted as the fingers removed themselves, her gaping hole squeezing itself in an attempt to alleviate the tension. Love juices sluiced down her thighs as Sio made an effort to wipe them up, though she was largely unsuccessful.

“Now love, just be patient...” He smirked and Sio recognized that mischievous tone. It was cocky and sure, much like when he became Jack the Ripper—but in the bedroom, that could only mean one thing... A second later something hot and stiff prodded against her slick entrance and Sio yelped in surprise.

“A-Adam...! Y, You, you’re...” She whined as Adam started slowly but firmly push himself into her tight cavern, though being so wet helped a great deal to ease his thick length inside her. “Ahhnn—it, it won’t fit like this! This angle...are you sure it won’t just fall out?”

Grunting, Adam shifted his hips upwards, Sio squealing as he grabbed her supple thighs and pulled them apart to help him gain more ground. “Oy love, we’ve not even started and you’re already having doubts? Don’t knock it ‘til you’ve tried it, isn’t that what they say?” Using his strength, he slowly lifted the sniper up and down; in and out, empty then filled as Sio cried from the sensations and writhed in his grip. “Would appreciate it if you would have a tad more faith, Sio.”

“I-I’m not, it’s not...ahn, aah...” Panting, Sio could hardly think of what to say, let alone speak the words. Adam’s cock filled her up in the most satisfying of ways, as her walls finally squeezed around something warm and stiff, instead of emptiness. “I, I’m just saying...i-if you slip out, it might kill the mood...ahn!” A particularly forceful thrust from the silver-haired man, as if to prove her wrong.

“Then I won’t. Simple as that.” Sio had no more quips left as Adam increased his pace, just like the film. The only audible voices now were coming from the video, as both holders were too focused on breathing to even moan or cry out. As Adam settled into a steady grip and good rhythm, she reached one hand down to lavish her clit with overdue attention. Her insides instantly tightened from the stimulation; electricity shot up her spine as she unconsciously struggled against Adam’s hold. Behind her, she heard him grunt slightly as she squeezed him, though the extra friction felt delicious.

“Aah, I’m cumming...iku, iku...!” The porn was about to come to the end, judging from the scene and the timer winding down. At this point, Sio wouldn’t be surprised if they came right after—both of them were getting desperately close, especially as she continued to fondle and tease her swollen clit. She whined through her teeth as her fingers pushed the hood back, rubbing the sensitive nub directly and pinching it lightly.

“Nnngg! C-Crap, it feels too good...my clit, it’s always so sensitive...!” With Adam thrusting deep inside her and occasionally hitting the edge of her cervix, her own hands pleasuring her body all over, Sio felt the faint pulses start to converge in her core. “O-Oh...d, dame, Adam...I, I think I’m gonna...I’m close...”

“Hah, hah...is that so...” Hot breaths fanned her cheek, Adam himself feeling the tripwire tighten inside as well. His height allowed him to peek over Sio’s shoulder, and watching the sniper please herself was much more erotic than any porno that could be playing. Her bra was crumpled above her breasts, and her panties had long disappeared somewhere amongst the sheets, nevermind their uniforms scattered carelessly on the floor. In public, she was still terribly shy about anything remotely sexual, but behind closed doors, she could let her guard down and be herself. Knowing she trusted him enough to shamelessly show him how she masturbated was even more of a turn-on than the whole ‘fuck while watching porn’, honestly.

“Oooohh...I-I’m, I can’t anymore...” Her head sank back into his shoulder as Adam felt her walls start spasming a bit.

“Hnn...’s that so...” The video was close to the end too, his eyes narrowing as he caught sight of the timer. “I wonder, who will finish first...us, or—haah—that daft video...” He heard Sio gulp as she realized his words. “So love, think you can...hold out just a touch longer?”

“W-Well, when you—aah—put it that way...h-how can I not...” Sio bit back a moan as she renewed her efforts to hold back her orgasm, though that was a bit like trying to stop a landslide with a shovel. “H-How much...hnn!” Her clit gave another throb, as if actively trying to sabotage her efforts. “N-No, stop...my body, it’s...!”

The girl in his arms trembled, Adam reducing his pace to help her draw it out. Even though it was tempting to just ignore everything else and thrust until they were completely spent, that stupid video seemed to be goading him on, even though it was entirely fictional... “Hnnngg...j-just, a little more...there’s a good girl, Sio...”

In. Out. Empty. Full. ‘Oh god...I don’t know if I can do this...! I just wanna cum...!’ Besides, Sio was getting tired--and judging by the tremors in Adam’s arms each time he lifted her, so was he. He may have had genetically-enhanced strength, but he wasn’t a tireless robot. Moaning, she stared at the numbers on the screen, trying not to think too hard about anything other than how good everything felt; her own hands fondling her breast and nipples, then giving some tender touch to her nub, Adam’s penis thrusting into her at a good pace and hitting all the right spots each time... Hearing his gasps and grunts, feeling his sweat-slicked skin pressed against her back as his strong arms supported her was just as enticing as well. Sio felt herself drooling slightly from all the exquisite sensations assaulting her senses.

“Kyaaaaaa!! Iku! Ikuuuuuuuu!!” The fake onscreen couple reached their limit; after that, the laptop was completely ignored. Adam’s grip tightened on her thighs as he thrust into her with a desperate vigor; Sio rubbed her clit in the tight, fast circles that she always used to bring herself to a roaring orgasm.

“Haaah! Aah! Nngg! Hnn!” Adam’s thrusts drove like a piston against her slick walls, kissing against the entrance to her womb each time. “Oooh...I-I’m—mmmmnn—c, cumming!” Panting so hard her tongue stuck out like a dog’s, Sio felt her orgasm crash through like a runaway train. A single, long wail tore from her throat, her climax hitting so hard her eyes nearly rolled to the back of her head while the rest of her body twitched and jerked. A burst of juices gushed from her hole, dripping all over Adam’s crotch and onto already-soaked bed as she continued to squirt, even as her orgasm slowly tapered.

“Holy...fuck...” Adam wasn’t sure which was more impressive: the strength of his orgasm, or Sio’s. The girl was practically slathered in fluids—saliva, sweat and a generous amount of their mixed cum—panting and completely limp in his lap. His own climax had been just as mind-blowing, especially after hearing the video finish first; Sio’s walls squeezed him mercilessly as the girl herself cried and pushed back against him. He opened one eye wearily as he felt something drip down this leg, only to see a thick glob of white spunk, mixed with Sio’s nectar, slowly make their way down via gravity. He groaned and sank into the pillows, too tired to even pull his softening member out. The entire room smelled ripe with sweat and the musky odor of their voracious sex, and vaguely Adam thought about a shower.

“Ooooh...god, that was...haaahh,” Sio had no words to describe the pleasure she felt as she slowly came down from her high. “Oh man, you came so much...I’m overflowing...” Wincing, she gently lifted herself off, Adam finally pulling out of her with a slight ‘pop’. “Urg...I’m definitely gonna feel this tomorrow...”

“Speak for yourself; christ Sio, you’re just...I don’t, I’m just...” As the sniper turned towards him with wide, guilty eyes, he regretted his words. “W-Wait, I didn’t mean anything bad by that—”

“—S-Sorry, I’m such a pervert...I, I know I can be...insatiable at times,” Adam coughed slightly as this, “s, so, I’m...glad you still put up with me...”

“Oh Sio...” Adam couldn’t help but smile slightly as he pulled her into a hug. “You know I’d never hold that against you. That being said, I’m...amazed at your, er...appetite, at times...” Adam was pretty sure if he weren’t an e-gene holder, he’d be worn out by now. He gave her a simple kiss on her forehead. “Remember Sio, I said I love all of you, as you are. And I mean that.”

“Ah, A-Adam...” Now she was shy again, cheeks turning a cute pink as she buried herself into his embrace. “Th, thanks...you’re the best...” Her libido may have been a great source of embarrassment at times, but the amount of pleasure it gave her was enough to make up for it, she decided. His chest rumbled with muffled laughter, causing Sio to blush more, but with happiness.

“...So uh, I take it we’re all cool with the AV thing then?” Adam cautiously broached the topic. “You’re fine with me watching, uh, my stuff and all that? Granted, you’re welcome to it too, now.”

Sio nodded shyly. “Y-Yeah, honestly you should do whatever you want in your private time. I’m really sorry I freaked out the first time...th, thanks for being so chill about everything...” She poked the sheets, too embarrassed to look at him in the eyes. “A-And also, th, thanks for your um, generosity...I promise I’ll keep it a secret between us...”

Adam raised an eyebrow. “What, the fact that we both enjoy porn?” Sio squeaked and he rolled his eyes slightly. “My dear Kitty-chan, you do realize this is quite common, right? I appreciate your consideration in keeping it on the down-low, but there’s no need to pretend otherwise.” He patted her on the head and she looked up with red cheeks. “Feel free to enjoy yourself, Sio.”

“Un...Adamu suki...” He really was the best, the sniper decided. ‘Who’d’ve ever thought I’d get such an amazing boyfriend...thanks for something at least, Invasion Objects.’

Yawning, Sio proceeded to crawl underneath the tangled sheets, her body now demanding some measure of rest after what she put it through. Next to her, she heard Adam shutting the laptop and putting it off to the side. before sliding underneath. She sighed as strong arms spooned her against his broad chest, eyes closing before her head even settled on the pillow.

Yeah, adult videos weren’t that bad after all...in fact they could be good...very good, indeed.

#my sweetest one #//lmao why do i always take so long between start and finish #//literally went on for way too long #//can't write a short and concise when i need to #//then when i need to make full chapters it doesn't happen #//y #//hot times ahead

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themangledsans0508 · 3 years

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From the Inside Looking Out

Read on Ao3

This was for her daughter, everything was for her daughter. This whole experiment, it was for her daughter. Her daughter’s future, her daughter’s success, her daughter’s potential. Under the guise of humanity, it was just for her child.

Which was why she was okay with the sacrifice, Emelia’s anger, losing everything. What she was not okay with was losing control.

Sinking through an orange liquid, up to her waist while being watched by the Mega Monkey. Unable to decide how she acted and having to fight to stay in control.

Then the fume hit them, and she was thrown onto her hands and knees. The monkey stood at attention and she could see the outside. She could see Emelia, she could hear her.

“Oh, Song. You didn’t think this through.”

Yes, she did. She put over a year of thought into it, she put at least a decade of science education she had to work, she put everything into it. She tried to reach out and grab her, but she couldn’t move. She couldn’t do anything. She could only watch from the monkey’s view.

“We should leave this pile of rubble, take me for a walk, Song.”

She tried to run away at every opportunity, but Emelia always found her. Sometimes she escaped for weeks, sometimes months, once even a whole year, but she would track her down one way or another. Someone who was once her best friend was now her capture.

Sometimes she’d say things to her that she thought would never grace the world again.

“Do you remember when Liam was killed?” Emelia asked one day. She didn’t respond, she missed Liam. He was someone who had daydreamed with her about a safe surface, then he was taken away from them all so suddenly. Emelia took her silence as a yes.

“Well, he had actually managed to befriend some mutes. Rats that drove a van. He was always too charismatic for his own good,” she chuckled darkly. “He wanted to tell everyone about how nice they were, how they liked him and even were going to welcome humans into their park. But that was against our goal.” She grinned at her.

“I couldn’t let him do that. So, do you know what I did Song? I shot him. I shot him right then and there.” The laugh disturbed her deeply and if she could have backed away any further from her in the cave she was trapped in she would have. She would have run as fast as her legs could carry her. Instead, she just trembled. Emelia stepped closer to her.

“The end justifies the means. Come on, I think there’s another burrow nearby.”

Another time after an encounter with Scarlemange, Emelia had her blocked in again.

“He was like your son, right? How did he end up like that? I guess insanity is inherited. I’d assume it was from your side, but Lio spent more time with him. And somehow, Lio disappeared from our burrow, with your monstrosity, and left him behind. I guess he was disappointed in him just like Father was disappointed in Liam.” Emelia tapped her fingers against her chin.

“Liam, Liam. He was never the smartest. Nor was he very strong. But I have to say, he was very dedicated. Too bad it was to the wrong cause. If he had listened more he would be alive. Father told us the truth, how Mother died was directly caused by mutes. Yet Liam always bought into what the Overseer told us. I told you too, Song. But you didn’t believe me.” She slammed her fist into the dirt, and she had the strong urge to do the same to her body. Her hand was stiff although in her reality it twitched.

“You all let yourselves be occupied with basic science. We never moved forward until I was in charge. I can’t believe it was ever a debate whether you or I should lead. If you lead, we’d all be like you.” Even the wave of her hand she had to obey, no matter how hard she fought.

The last time Emelia controlled her, Song will never forget.

“You haven’t seen your daughter in a long time, she’s turning thirteen soon, right? I bet you’d love to see her again. And you’re in luck because I need that monster right now.”

She wanted to kill her, she tried. She lunged and swung and kicked and bit but in reality, she was frozen. She could do nothing.

Then she didn’t see Emelia, but her husband.

“This isn’t you.”

This wasn’t her. This was Emelia. The collar felt like molten lava on her fur. This was the man she loved.

Then it released another wave of pheromones.

Next, it was her daughter. Pesky axes that did nothing but annoy her, faces she didn’t recognize, snakes that only felt like small pinpricks. The music was unmistakable. After random strokes over the strings and shouting she charged but then her daughter started singing.

“We may not have sunshine, or starlight, or weather. But, we have each other, and that’s even better.”

That was their song, but that wasn’t Lio. And no one else could know it but…

Kipo.

She slowed down until she was only sliding and then standing still. Her eyes were fixed on her daughter. The girl she never got to raise. The girl she hadn’t seen in over a decade. She let her finish singing and kept her gaze on her.

Did she eat humans? No. Did she take them? No. Did they get away? Yes.

The glow on Kipo’s face would have spread to hers if she didn’t have fur. She reached a finger out to touch her and drew it back when Kipo jerked back before trying again. To touch her baby after so long made her indescribably happy.

Then she asked why she broke into the burrow and her collar started beeping.

She tried to signal what was happening, but Kipo couldn’t understand. When it released the pheromones, she used her last few seconds of control to run away. With no humans in her hands, she had no orders and she would not grab her daughter.

The next time she saw a human, it was again Kipo. This time, with a jaguar paw. She was growing up, and she was missing it. Her girl helped her, she cut through her collar. But she still couldn’t understand her, no matter how hard she tried to sign that she was her mom. Kipo misunderstood as her wanting to go with her, which wasn’t wrong but was not what she was trying to say. Before Kipo left, she did attach a bracelet to the fur on her arm.

She spent a long time staring at it.

Then it was Emelia again, but she wasn’t alone.

She was frozen in fear as Emelia spoke, she wasn’t hearing anything she said. Then she saw the collar and heard a sentence that registered.

“Put it on the monkey.”

She ran, her legs carrying her faster than Emelia and her goons could keep up.

Then not much later her son.

He chased her around Las Vistas, able to move well enough around the buildings that he didn’t crash as his followers did. He talked to her normally, before preaching of a future for mutes, and she ran. That was not the mandrill she had raised.

Then she was tied to a tree with silk, and she awoke to a small human climbing her. She looked down to see Kipo scaling her.

“Hi, mom.” She never thought she’d hear those words. She cooed at her and she was offered a canteen. “You must be thirsty.” Yes, she was. “Let me get you out of here.”

She raised a paw to strike and was grabbed by a flamingo’s talon. She howled in panic but she couldn’t do anything. Her hands were tied.

Her surroundings suddenly changing into a cave was shocking, even more so when a tardigrade started talking to her. Her daughter befriended a water bear, somehow she was not incredibly surprised. What she was surprised by was that she was now immune to pheromones. She could protect her family now, and she could convey a message.

“Could you tell Kipo mom loves her?”

The coronation was terrifying for her, and she could have easily escaped. For Kipo, however, she’d jump into an active volcano. So she did take the golden top off a building and help a thousand humans escape. So when she saw Kipo take charge as a jaguar and try to knock the tree down she joined. Even after her hand got gilded, she stood by her daughter.

When she howled in pain after she realised she was stuck, she howled with her. She understood. She wrapped her arms around her for the first time in twelve years and held her as she cried. She didn’t let go until Kipo had turned back and she could not be prouder of and happier for her daughter.

“Don’t worry mom, we’ll get you back.”

Working alongside Kipo every day was a blessing, even under threat. Getting to see her every day, getting to see her husband every day. Even if they could only hug her finger, she was content.

Then her family was under stress and she had to practically tackle her daughter to keep her from running into a trap. Afterwards, all she could do was pace back and forth. She knew how to beat Emelia at her own game, however, she didn’t know how to communicate.

“Hey! Song! Song!” She looked down at Scarlemange, the frustration painted on his face making her feel guilty. “These are my only hours of peace and quiet, and I can’t enjoy them if you’re shaking the whole forest!” She tried to sign to him, but he didn’t understand either. She picked his cage up and started cooing at him.

“You know I can’t understand you, right?” he stated and she groaned in frustration and pressed her palm to her forehead. “Wait, I’ll make you a deal.” She shook her head and the cage, eliciting a shout. “It’s not letting me out! Don’t worry. But I need you to do a favour for me and I’ll do a favour for you. Deal?” She nodded, and Scarlemange let out a shout. “Nod with your head, not your whole body!” She corrected herself and he smiled. “Good.”

It took them a long, long, time. Trying to use motions, then blocks, then motions again. He couldn’t understand her signals, her fingers were too big to use the blocks, and he couldn’t understand her noises.

She started signalling very quickly out of habit, and was surprised when one of the kittens pointed at her and said; “That means no!”

She nodded and Scarlemange tapped a finger to his chin. He climbed up next to the kids and sat with them. It was like playing charades, more like a game than a translation. Granted, it took them ages, they did eventually get her message down.

They delivered it, and she had to watch her daughter go and hope she’d be okay.

When she did come back with her friends, she let out a sigh of relief. She watched them talk and leaned down to be level with Kipo when she approached her.

“Let’s get you back, mom.” Her finger was pricked with something, and everything felt like she was on fire. She flailed briefly, and then her vision went black.

She got it back quickly, and she pushed herself up with two hands. She looked at her body and she wasn’t a monkey anymore, and she only had two hands. She pulled herself out of the crater she had made and her eyes landed on her daughter. The moment she got on her feet, she ran towards her and grabbed her in a hug.

#kataow #kipo and the age of wonderbeasts #song oak #kipo oak #emelia kataow #chara writes

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susiequaz12 · 4 years

Text

Carrot Top- 6: Howe

Alright, here it is! This one is arguably less whumpy, with a little comfort (cause heaven knows Andrew needs some comfort). I ended up splitting this in half with a different part that I’ll probs post soon cause it’s already edited.

Some world background stuff that I’ll address again- There’s a genetically modified group of people called peculiari that are born with enhanced genetic abilities. There are four main groups: Shapeshifter, Superhuman, Nature Bender, and Mind Reader. Andrew is a shapeshifter. I introduce a Nature Bender briefly here, but that character will probs become kinda important later on.

Tags: @imagination1reality0, @just-a-raccoon-with-wifi, and @thehopelessopus

CW: medical references, needles (an iv), blood, throwing up, restraints, stitches, treating wounds, mention and descriptions of injuries.

- - -

Andrew woke up on fire.

Every ounce of his body burned with each shifted breath and jostled movement.

He quickly realized he couldn’t move very much though. His hands felt free, but at the attempt of pulling his knees to his chest, he realized his ankles were secured with straps, keeping him tied to a- a bed?

No, he thought. It wasn’t comfortable enough to be a bed, but not uncomfortable enough to be a table or cot of some sorts. It was somewhere in between, like, like a medical bed. One that you’d find in a hospital, or an examination room.

The first few seconds he came into full consciousness were filled with panic. He didn’t know where he was, or where he had been. All that registered in his mind was pain. Red hot- searing and cold blue- aching, pain.

A soft hand came atop his chest, pulling a blanket back over him that he didn’t know he’d knocked loose, shushing him gently, pushing him back down to the bed.

“Hey now, you’ve been through quite the ordeal, just breathe for me. You’re gonna be fine.”

Andrew’s eyes barely registered the man that the words were coming from. His vision swimmed in his head as the shapes and figures around him were fuzzy. Nothing clear, but not unidentifiable. An instant wave of relief washed over him as he realized the man wasn’t Splice. He was- a- a doctor.

Doctors are safe.

Doctors are supposed to help people.

Maybe he’d been rescued, put in a hospital, and Ali and Justin were waiting outside until they could come in to visit. Yeah, that was it. This was all just a nightmare.

But doctors don’t tie non-dangerous patients down to the bed.

So either he was in a real hospital, and they discovered his powers and thought he was dangerous, or he was still here. With Splice.

Andrew didn’t like either of those options.

The doctor grabbed his arm in a gentle hand, and as he pulled it away from him, Andrew noticed the IV, and the tubes and cables connecting him to various machines in the room. The man uncapped a vial and inserted an unfamiliar liquid into the IV, his eyes scanning the tube as the liquid slid through, and into his system.

He placed his limb back onto the bed, and then a cautious arm wrapped underneath Andrew’s lower back, lifting him up and forward.

Andrew winced and groaned out at the pressure put on his back.

“Hey now, it’s okay. I just gotta redress these bandages. You can go back to sleep once I’m done. It won’t take long.”

The blanket fell around his lap and he looked down at his stomach, seeing rows and rows of white, medical bandages, blending in with his pale skin. His eyes then went to his wrists, where dark bruises were starting to form from where the restraints had dug into them for so long. He had no doubt that there were some to match on his ankles.

He didn’t even want to imagine what his body looked like underneath the bandages.

The doctor sat on a rolling stool by the bed and started to undress the bandages, carefully pulling away the blood-soaked fabric. As his hands brushed across the markings, Andrew couldn’t help the shiver that took his body. He expected more pain to come at the touch, but there was just a dull, thudding ache across his body. That thudding ache echoed behind his eyes from hours of crying, and straining to see without his glasses.

After a few minutes the bandages laid in a pile on the floor to be scooped into the garbage can across the room. Andrew’s eyes glanced down. He saw the array of red, spattered amidst the white strips, and then his eyes traveled to his chest, where the blood originated. Oozing out of the cuts and slashes down his torso in a slow and steady crawl. If that wasn’t enough to set his stomach in motion, the bruises and the welts that crawled all over his chest and limbs surely would be.

The doctor quickly noticed the lurching that came from Andrew’s stomach, and rushed across the room to grab the garbage can before holding it underneath his head. However, there was nothing to throw up but more water and fluids. His body then decided to try and hack out his lungs as well. It was as if they were a poison, a toxin that his body needed to get rid of. He dry-heaved, tears streaming down his face as he couldn’t breathe, the sobs and coughs wracking through every limb as he choked and sputtered to try and get his body under control.

The doctor kept a firm, but gentle hand on Andrew’s back, as he hacked his lungs out, before finally settling down to some slight wheezing. His body would’ve collapsed back into the bed if not for the hand holding him upright.

“You always throw up at the sight of blood, or was this just a special occasion?”

Andrew wheezed out a reply, surprised at how raspy and broken his voice sounded. “No- only when it- when it’s mine.”

There was silence for a few minutes as the doctor scrambled around the cart of supplies, before pulling out a jar of what looked to be some sort of ointment or cream. He proceeded to clean the cuts and welts from the beating with a rag and disinfectant, before applying the ointment and wrapping him up again.

“My name’s Howe.”

Andrew raised his head in a response, eyes glancing to the Doctor. He seemed young. Like he could be fresh out of college, not any older than 25.

He gestured towards himself with the bottle of cream in one hand, gloved fingers applying it with the other. “I’m a Nature bender. I deal with plants mostly. Natural remedies, ointments, as well as your regular medical stuff of course.” Andrew felt the cold ointment against his back, before the doctor- Howe- moved to his chest. The mixture was pale green, smelling vaguely of mint and some sort of forest.

“This is my own recipe, I’m pretty proud of it. It’s meant to soothe, so it’s good for irritated skin or rashes, but it also prevents infection from entering the body, while helping the skin regrow and heal faster.”

“Wow.” Was all Andrew managed to breath out. It did feel incredibly relaxing. Soothing- like he was in a spa. He could take a whole bath in the stuff.

Howe laid it on thicker where the whip had met his flesh, and where Splice had carved with his knife. His skin had been rubbed raw from the ropes, so by the time they had finished, nearly the whole bottle of cream had been used up.

“I tell you all this to ease your nerves.” Howe began to say. “So you know that I’m a real doctor. I graduated from medical school just a year ago before being…uhh- hired. I’m not just one of those people in a lab coat that Splice has to run his experiments and tests or whatever.”

Before Andrew could ask any questions, he was laid back down and tucked underneath the blanket.

“Now I just need to check that hand again, see how it’s doing and you’ll be good to go back to sleep okay?”

Andrew nodded. He felt tired, the soothing ointment working through his body mixed with painkillers made him feel strangely relaxed.

Everything that happened instantly came back to him when Howe started to unwrap the bandages on his hand. Andrew tried to pull it back towards him, shield it close to his chest.

“Hey, hey, I’m not gonna hurt you.” Howe stated, keeping a firm grip around Andrew’s wrist. “I just gotta check up on those stitches I gave you, make sure it’s all still clean and then I’ll bandage it right back up. Promise.”

As soon as the bandages fell away, Andrew’s eyes fell to his lap. He didn’t know if he wanted to look at it. If he even could look at it.

He realized he hadn’t attempted to move the hand since it had happened. It had just hung there limp. So he was grateful when he felt the cold touch of Howe’s hand, as his fingers brushed gently across his palm and around his fingers.

He caught a glimpse, and it thankfully didn’t look as bad as he thought. The wound was clean. The marking from the knife only marred by rows of stitches holding the skin closed tightly. It was raw, and red and irritated, but other than that, it didn’t look too terrible.

Andrew was scared to ask, but he needed to know.

“Is- is it gonna be okay?” The doctor glanced up. “My- my hand. Is it gonna be okay?”

Howe deflected the question, looking back down again.

“Do you feel this?” Howe trailed a finger up and down the side of Andrew’s thumb. The boy nodded. “Can you wiggle your finger for me?”

Andrew tried, but all he managed to do was get a slight twitch, barely noticeable if you weren’t looking for it. The boy tried to slow down the panic that was rising in his chest. He tried to wiggle a finger again, but all he managed to do with his efforts was send new spikes of pain shooting through his hand. He hissed through his teeth, groaning from pain and frustration.

“Not yet.” Howe stated. “Give it some time to heal. It’ll be stiff for a long time, but if you work at it slowly, you should regain most of the normal function.”

“Most?” Howe released his hand back to him with the clean bandages, Andrew pulled it tightly to his chest. “What do you mean most? Wait…”

Howe pushed him back down onto the bed, placing the blanket over him. “You suffered pretty severe damage to the nerves, tendons, and blood vessels in your palm. I managed to reconnect as many as I could given the circumstances, but it’ll take a long time to heal. We won’t know how much function you will actually have until much later. For now, all you can do is rest.”

Andrew wanted to ask many, many more questions, but he was incredibly tired. Even being awake for just a few minutes had wore him down. His body sank into the bed, and right as he started drifting to unconsciousness, a familiar figure walked into the room.

“Hey carrot top!”

#whump #medical whump #treating wounds #oc #original writing #carrot top #stitches #bandaging wounds

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