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tarjapearce · 4 months

Note

Ok, ok, ok, hear me out….

Tarzan Miguel…

Ahh, nonny. Casually just saw this scrumptious fanart of him as Tarzan by @Miuworm in X 🫠. And yeah. (Kinda amazed at how you guys manifest these things 🤭)

Like Me

Tarzan! Miguel O'Hara x Reader.

WARNINGS: nothing too bad. Depictions of violence, a bit of implicit gore and animal death. No proofread.

Summary: Your savior from a certain death is quite touchy-feely.

Another for Miguelverse ❤️✨

The furious waves of the sea clashed over your body, submerging it in the freezing and alive water.

Arms moved, swimming your way back up, gasping for a much needed gulp of air as soon as you reached the surface.

Peeking around you, trying to find something to get a hold of or climb on, exhaustion was crawling up to your limbs, like hypothermia.

Fuck

Mind cursed with every foul word you could've imagine. How did trip ended up like this? In what moment the clouds turned so grey they darkened the sky, announcing a downpour with a loud rumble? It all took minutes to go sour and south.

You were there to do a land recognition, and see if you could get home some new species. Sergei Kravinoff, or Kraven The Hunter, was the lead of your expedition, all financed by a man named Kingpin.

Your name was called, echoed in the distance.

"Over here!!" You flailed your arms in an attempt of being seen, and hopefully the debris wouldn't blear their sight to find you.

You swam in the direction of the voice, teeth clattered, tool belt heavy on your hips, but you knew if you lost them, any possible chance of getting another were impossible. Plus, Kraven hated it when you lost your equipment as they weren't cheap.

Every paddle of your arms felt heavier, like if your wrists had been tied up with iron pounds, dragging you down. Lips turned blue and trembled. Salty and cold water doused you, but you weren't to give up.

You had fought your way to get a spot in this expedition and a pathetic ending like drowning wasn't an option. You spotted a wooden board floating nearby.

C'mon!

Your hands stretched towards it anf finally managed to keep yourself afloat. Panting, groaning and shivering, letting the cold to finally sink in. Feet had started to numb out, ragged breaths turned laborious.

Once more someone called you, this time you recognised the voice. Peter, the other nerd according to Kraven. You two were the ones selected to be the scientist that would lead Kraven to a certain victory in Nueva York.

Ever since Norman Osborn and Otto Octavius had discovered new species of spiders and reptiles, everyone proclaimed them geniuses ahead of their time, leaving the hunting behind.

Kraven was set into getting either a new species or something alike to regain his forlorn glory. He refused to be forgotten.

But everything pointed that the island you were now had a mind of its own. As if preventing anyone to delve in further into it's secrets.

You were pulled out from the board by Peter that immediately covered you up in a raggedy blanket. Despite the fabric being old, it gave you enough warmth to avoid death taking a hold on you.

Kraven cursed in russian, but was hopeful y'all be found soon. The ship's black box was ruined, your luggage at least was minimal, and it was enough to be saved by ether Peter or anyone kind enough.

A powerful and enormous wave had turned the boat upside-down. Knocking everything loose out of the board. The guns and other tools were the only things that survived.

But, you hoped, the whole fiasco was just temporary. Fisk wasn't a careless man, he'd probably send help soon. You closed your eyes for a moment, letting your bones to freeze.

----

You woke up nearby the makeshift fireplace, relishing the heat your body had lacked. Clothes were humid, but no longer soaked and freezing.

Sighing, you stirred awake, letting the tension leave your body with a groan.

"Hey, wake up." Peter approached, concern etched into his features as he helped you on your feet.

"Where's everyone?"

"I... We uh, got lost. One moment Kraven is here and the other he's not. Left us behind. Or, he also got lost."

"Kraven? Lost?" Peter could sense the deadpan in your voice and he sighed, exasperated.

"I'm just trying to light up the mood. He was pissed. So I assume that he just thought he'd do it himself." He shrugged and you sighed, rubbing your neck.

"Great! now we're lost, my luggage is nowhere to be found but at least we have tools, right?"

The faltering in Peter's face made yours to fall as he shook his head.

"God, I swear... Fuck him. If I'm discovering something, Ain't sharing with him!"

"Let's focus on surviving first. The soil is rich, meaning the jungle is nearby."

"And so is the wild life." You sighed and Peter groaned.

"Look, thinking negatively won't take us anywhere. I'm not saying either let's throw a party for being stuck in an unknown place. But we gotta move. It's about to get dark."

"Right... You're right" You rubbed your face, exhausted, at least you weren't freezing anymore. But being at Nature's mercy wasn't pretty either, yet again. You were selected by none other than Sergei. If he trusted your judgement to be valuable enough, why couldn't you?

With a new resolution in mind, you took the raggedy blanket and other little tools Peter managed to salvage and soon ventured yourselves in the thickness of the jungle.

-----

Sun had long disappeared in the sky leaving a faint trail of golden and orange in the clouds, and you were certain that it had been hours since you walked in the jungle. No signs of Kraven or the caravan of people.

No signs of society or at least his stupid russian jokes that you were sure people laughed at by sheer convenience.

The only advantage Kraven possessed in his favor, was him being an avid hunter. You only studied species, animals and flowers to be more precise, and had a little knowledge of mechanics. Enough to fix your own machines and trinkets. Peter was an expert in mechanics and soil. You followed him.

"I think I've seen that rock before" Peter sighed as he slouched against a tree.

"Don't say that, Parker." You wheezed as you followed him, resting your aching back against him. "I'm definitely finding some poison and put it on Kraven's drink."

"Relax. Without us he's going into unknown territory."

"In case you haven't noticed, he's a professional hunter. And I hate with passion skirts."

The distant rumble of a storm approaching echoed through the sky.

"A hunter, not a geologist. He acts like an animal to get animal bodies."

"Still, he knows his way around these places, Pete."

"Shooting things till they're dead isn't knowing about things"

Peter stood and offered his hand.

"Uh-uh I just sat down."

"We gotta at least go upwards. This area is prone to flooding."

With a vexed groan you took Peter's hand and he pulled you up. You were tired of walking, but if he said you needed to advance, you obeyed.

"Fuck..."

----

Despite the soaking rain pouring around you, Peter had found an amalgamation of trees and branches supported by a hollow tree.

Birds chirped and cawed, bugs joined the concert once the rain subsided, the distant flapping of the birds and the rustle of leafs prevented you from lowering your guard. The only comforting thing besides Peter's company was the petrichor smell, pungent in the air.

You'd spend hours inhaling the gift of nature, if it wasn't for your belly grumbling, and Peter had ran out of cashews.

Even crickets sounded tempting to eat. With the right spices, they tasted crunchy. But all you could do was to imagine their taste as it was time to move again.

"Knowing Kraven, he'd go up to the mountains, probably they've sent a camp nearby a river. So let's look for one."

"Yeah, even better so I can drown that fucker in. He better pay us good for this stupid prank."

Peter chuckled and looked around for a minute, his blue eyes narrowed upon setting his sight in a tree trunk. Broken in half, but what truly made his... whatever this unpleasant feeling to rise within was the vicious marks indented on the tree bark.

Powerful scratches filled with bloody chum and crimson liquid, paw like marks painted in the trunk. The source of such gruesome spectacle laid in whatever pieces was left a couple of inches away. He could make out a tail, and small hind legs. A baby monkey, or rather half of it.

"Uh... We better hurry."

Peter swallowed, and the urgency in his tone only made your worry to shoot heavenwards.

You both walked, speeding up the step. Unaware of the keen eyes, hidden in the bushes that followed your every moves like a hawk. A low growl filled in the space he occupied.

---

You were certainly to die.

Undeniably, and it didn't matter how fast you managed to run, the jaguar quick paced trotting had you pushing your limits. Tears blurred your sight, as a garbled sob escaped your lips.

Scratches adorned your arms, decorating your flesh with fresh oozing wounds, dirt and leafs stuck to your marred flesh.

Chest heaved with deep and ragged pants, wobbly legs menaced to give in under the pressure at any second

You were going to die.

Even though life had been incredibly dull and the only comfort was your investigation, you didn't want it to end so soon. Not whenyou were about to accomplish a promise to yourself.

Peter had gone lost and separated once the chase began. One minute he was before you, and the other, your friend was gone, out of sight and reach. But the relentless giant feline behind you preferred you. An easy prey.

Your wails and cries for help fell upon deaf ears, who would listen to you in the middle of the jungle? For once you wished to have Kraven's gun expertise.

You didn't care if hypocrite defined you right now. You took a thick branch, swinging it with difficulty and pain at the euphoric beast, like a demotivated baseball player. But the jaguar's claws swatted the useless weapon away from your hands, and making you stumble on the ground.

This was it.

Oh God, oh my god, no, no no

The animal pounced and by instinct, you shielded your body with your shaky limbs. But no harm came.

You could feel the beast's warm and bloodthirsty breath on your head, snapping it's maws at you, desperately trying to reach for a bite of your supple flesh.

Eyes wide in horror, and disbelief. The jaguar was held by his tail, earning whoever that was holding it back from devouring you a couple of swings with it's sharp claws. But the animal was set into getting to you. It pounced on your boots, claws sinking on the back of hour ankles, earning a sobbing and painful wail.

A gruesome crack and a roar echoed behind you, and only then you were able to see your savior.

The tallest man you've ever seen, even taller than Kraven, strong and well built physique, a rich tanned skin full of scratches and long healed wounds. Hair long, reaching a bit past his shoulders, muscles that heaved and rippled in every breathing you did. Body hair etched beautifully in his skin.

Covered in nothing but a loincloth.

If it wasn't for you being at the death's gates, you'd take your time to study him.

You gasped as he held the oversized cat with his hands and slammed it on the ground. They circled eachother, shifting between the roles of hunter and prey.

The feline hissed, and the man returned the threat, a cold sweat ran down your spine upon watching two overgrown canines, on his mouth. Fangs. He had fangs. Brown eyes stared at the four legged monster, defying it.

And soon the jaguar took his invitation. The two majestic creatures fought, enraged, proving their prowess to eachother, disputing the role of Alpha within the jungle's hierarchy. They rolled on the ground, biting and clawing at eachother.

With a lurid snap the man cracked the beast's neck, earning an agonizing wail from the mean cat. He staggered before slamming his fist on the animal, forcing the last breaths out of the beast.

His nose flared, proudly, while his hands slammed his chest.

Terror was still taking a hold of you, and there was nothing you could use as a weapon. Your hands braced your shoulder as you tried to carefully stand, but your clumsy feet stepped in a branch, snapping it in half, like the jaguar's neck. Brown eyes were immediately on you.

You swallowed hard.

He approached, hunched and prowling over, his knuckles and toes supported his hulking frame.

"S-Stop!"

He quirked an eyebrow, curious and within seconds he was before you.

Breath hitched on your throat, face so close to yours, he could feel your breath blowing on his chin.

You hissed as he took a hold of your arm, examining the damage. There wasn't rage in his features but nothing more than untampered curiosity.

His hands reached for your hair, sniffing the strands, you couldn't help but giggle when his nose hovered over your head, sniffing you, a bad moment to be ticklish, really.

Breath caught again as his nose nuzzled your neck.

"W-Wai-" His fingers prodded at your lips, rubbing the calloused thumbs on your soft mouth. A satisfied grunt rumbled in his firm and hairy chest

He toyed with your face, examining it with child like wonder. He turned, prodded and licked your cheeks, reminiscing in your taste with a confused look.

"U-uh, sir-"

What is he doing? oh god.

He hunched even closer to rest his ear on your chest. Heart pumping violently inside your ribcage, eyes darted towards the covered mounds, he sank his face in between them, taking a deep inhale. A low growl came from within and your cheeks flared in a deep flush.

Oh shit, shit

His hands cupped your mounds, sending a shiver through your body, but you slapped his hand away. He looked taken aback before baring his teeth to you.

"No!" You covered your chest and backed away, but his nose flared to then grab your head and placed it on his chest a tad forcefully. Warm and plush skin met yours. You gulped again.

Powerful echoes boomed through his chest.

The natural musk of him tickled your senses, his hands roamed your lower back and your alarms flared.

"H-hey, hey!"

He pulled your feet up, sending you tumbling backward, skirt rolling down your thighs, exposing your legs to him.

You tried to cover your skin by gathering your skirt up. His nose again sniffled as your wriggled underneath him. Hands prodding and picking at your toes, earning a clumsy giggle

His touch was like molten lava, it sent a shudder down your spine.

His fingers were having a good feel of your flesh, as if confirming you were real.

With each discovery his interest only grew. He then cupped your face again, smooshing your cheeks together, giving a deliberate lick on your lips.

"T-The polite thing to do is to take me out before that happens!" You mumbled nervously while trying to get yourself free.

His eyes narrowed once more as he lifted up your skirt completely, revealing your panties.

It gave you little to no time to prepare you for his next move. He sunk his face in between your thighs taking a good whiff of your scent, another pleasant growl came from him, by reflex, your hand slapped him. And this made him look at you, confused but clearly upset while holding his cheek.

"No! Stop it!" You warned while gathering your skirt underneath your knees and pointing at him. Cheeks impossibly red

He seemed to understand as he crouched before you. Muscular thighs flexing as he sat, mimicking your actions.

"Uh, uh. No. Don't do that"

"Uh Uh, No. Don't do that"

He repeated with the same authoritarian tone. Voice surprisingly rich and alluring. Your eyes went wide.

"You can speak!"

He repeated like a parrot.

"Can... Can you understand me?"

His brows furrowed then quirked. He was about to come up with a reply when the rustling and your name being called echoed behind the foliage.

"Over here!!!" You shouted, this alarmed the man as he stood, backing up from you with a mistrustful glare.

"Wait! No no! Don't go!" Your hands wriggled, but it was futile.

He left before anyone could see him. Climbing the trees like it was another playground game, until he disappeared out of sight.

None other than Kraven showed up, machete on hand, swinging it the weeds and plants that dared to cross his way.

A shit eating smirk plastered on his face.

"See? I told you, she'd be fine." Kraven patted Peter's shoulder as they kept moving to find a perfect spot for the camp.

Kraven crouched to where the jaguar's body laid and looked at you.

"What happened?"

"I... don't know. I-I panicked. Was running from a snake and I found that there."

Sergei just hummed, as he watched the body, eyes raking the feline's carcass before beckoning two of his men closer.

"Skin him. Don't have this type yet."

Kraven took a deep inhale. Death's stench sparking alive the hunter in him.

"Whatever killed it, needs to be in my personal collection of trophies."

Peter in the meantime cleansed your wounds with water, to then apply some clean bandages on them.

The whole group moved, upwards to the mountains.

"What the heck happened!?" he whispered aggressively

You made sure for Kraven to be within a reasonable distance to speak again.

"You won't believe me if I'd tell you."

Cause in truth, how would you explain a man, taller than Sergei, killed with his bare hands a wild animal and got way too touchy with you but is able to speak?

The road was long. You had time

Peter sensed your discomfort and pressed no further. However, the feeling of being watched never waned. It was the group, against the jungle's secrets.

----

Taglist:

@fayeofthenightingale

#t writes✨#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #Miguelverse #miguel o'hara #miguel x y/n

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hcdragonwrites · 10 months

Text

Cozy (a @jttw-monkeybusiness Drabble )

So I made another one- this one was inspired by this ask (I suck at Hyperlinks I’m so sorry)

It rolled a bit in my brain and kept begging to be fleshed out, so I decided to give it life ! Enjoy!

Snow

Snow fell in white flurries, chasing away the blossoms and birds that had been sitting in the trees just moments before. The storm was in a full frenzy now, peeling petals from overeager trees who had budded too soon, and throwing the birds from the sky. The wind whipped up the cold powder to spray back in the face of the pilgrims as they continued on their journey. They had left the warm subtropical forest only hours ago, where Sophie had rolled her sleeves up to relieve some of the excess heat. Now however, she was shivering.

None of the group, save for Wukong, was truly equipped for the snow and cold. Pigsys ears were turning purple from the temperature as he tried, and failed, to hide from the worst of it behind Sandy. Sandy silently continued on, carving a path for Sophie (who trailed farther behind) to walk through. The snow was already deep, coming to her knees as they continued to follow the tiny path up the mountain. Black rock jutted upward and outward like broken teeth into the white air. Horse and Monk both were struggling ahead, Yulongs sides shivering in the wet as the snow melted on his fur. Tripitaka called Wukong over, asking him to scout ahead to look for a place they could shelter for the duration of this storm. Sophie could see there heads bent together as Master and pupil discussed. Wukong, for once, didn’t reply with a snort or a quick jab at how Trip should be lucky for him to be his disciple. Instead he had somersaulted off, gone in a flash of fur and tiger stripes, into the air.

“Would be nice if I could just somersault out of here.” Sophie muttered.

A freak blizzard had not been on the list of things Sophie was ready for. She had faced shape-changing demons, women that turned to great tigers to devour Tripitaka, mountain gods throwing stones down into their path and the like. Sophie was prepared for any person or creature - or at least- expecting it. The weather however? She was severely underprepared for. She had the travel clothes she had bought with the coin purse she’d been given. They were meant for light rain and mild heat. Not for a snowstorm. Sophies hair was getting wet and the cold was starting to chill her ears from where it melted.

“It’s so cold…” she muttered. She kept following Sandys footpath, thankful for the giant of a river demon and his slow shuffling walk. If he was walking normally he would have left her far behind in the snow.

Her foot hit a rock and slipped, sending her flailing into a rapidly growing snowbank. “F-f-f-freezing! AH!” Snow had gone down her shirt, sending a chill up her spine. Faster than a wildcat she had hopped from the bank, shaking herself.

“Hate snow hate snow hate snow—“ she chanted her mantra as she slapped off the powder, trying to prevent it from melting and wetting her clothes. Wet clothes would only spell disaster. Sophie could recall all the cold born illnesses from one special National Geographic did on Everest and the extreme exposure the hikers faced there: pneumonia, Trench foot, frostbite, hypothermia, flu, Chilblains, bronchitis —

Her foot slipped again as her mind was listing all the things that could happen. Sophie would have been in the snowbank a second time except something caught her by the midriff and hauled her up.

“Stupid women stay on your feet!” Wukong snarled in her ear, setting her down. Sophie nodded, teeth chattering and nose turning red as the cold began to chap it. “Of all the people here I thought at least you had the common sense to be aware of ice!”

From up ahead came the faint cry and heavy fall as Pigsys fell face first in the snow. Sandy had to quickly turn to hid a chuckle as the drenched demon began wilding swinging his rake around in rage.

“S-s-sorry.” She mumbled, shoving her hands beneath her armpits. “Slipped.”

“What’s wrong with your speech? You sound like a squirrel.” Wukong cocked his head, an eyebrow raised. He rolled his eyes when Sophie didn’t banter back irritated she wasn’t snapping back at him. That agitation grew when he felt something like worry begin to itch his pelt. Of the pilgrims, the two mortals were in his charge of care and were the most delicate. While Wukong could fight off monsters and Demons and wicked minded mortals he could not fight a storm. Well- he could if he really wanted to find the celestial body responsible for its creation. But that would take time- and time was not on his side on this.

Tripitaka had put on a brave face when he had asked the Monkey King to find shelter. That didn’t mean Wukong had not noticed how his Masters hands had turned red at the growing cold, how his body shivered and his nose sniffed. Wukong would have teased, poked and prodded at his master- it was his nature to rile and cause mischief. But when he had seen the half awake expression on the mortal man’s face, Wukong had bit his tongue (with great effort) and had instead nodded.

Seeing Sophie in a similar state made the itch beneath his pelt grow worse as fire ants had begun to bite his skin.

“Damn it.” He cursed beneath his breath. He snatched her arm, avoiding her hand, and started dragging her behind him. “Come on just a bit farther you softie. I found a cave up ahead where we can get out of the worst of it. You mortals are ABSOLUTELY worthless when it comes to weather —“

Sophie was only half listening to Wukongs ranting. She allowed herself to be dragged up the mountain pass, trusting the Monkey King to find a better route than her own dimming senses. The cold was like a blanket she wanted to escape out of. Or escape into? She couldn’t remember clearly. If she closed her eyes… she was so tired. The snow looked inviting, comforting. Like the best downy comforter. Like the fluffiest pillow.

Maybe I just … need to lay … down in the comfort. Just close my eyes for a few minutes.

They had been walking for hours before the storm blew in. Her feet hurt, her hands shook and it was so cold. Cold. She just wanted to sleep.

“SOPHIE LOOK AT ME!” Wukong yanked her and she was rattled enough to open her eyes wider in surprise. Sun Wukong was right in her face, leaning so close she could see every line of his facial markings in detail. His breath came from between his teeth like some dragons as he glared.

“Ye-es?!”

“Stay awake- we're almost there. If you fall asleep while I’m dragging your ass up the mountain I will bite your pretty nose clean off!” The demonic monkey spat, then, half carried, half dragged Sophie the rest of the way. Leaning against his back Sophie sighed. Through the clothing she could feel it- like desert sand warmed by the sun. Delicious heat. Sophie - who wouldn’t in normal circumstances have cuddled so close- practically melted against the warmth. What else could she do? Wukong was dragging her up the mountain- practically carrying her. She could see the bend in the mountain pass- a steep cliff where the road cut itself around and hugged the mountain as a snake would do climbing along a vine. Almost there.

“How come you get to be so warm?” She grumbled, not realizing she had said it aloud. Wukong had heard however, and his face became a storm cloud as his heart took a shuddering beat.

“Maybe grow some fur or ask for the Buddha to make you some furry creature. Bet he would too.” Wukong grumbled back.

Stupid fucking women.

They reached the curve in the mountain where Pigsy and Sandy- mostly Sandy since the pig demon kept complaining about how cold his snout was- were setting up three tents. The tents were simple, the leather treated against wet weather and solid. All pigsy had to do was drive the stakes into the stone which, it seemed, he was failing at.

“It’s so damn cold!” Pigsy snorted angrily stamping his hands together, having missed the spike for the third time. “Blasted Heaven and whoever ordered a storm now of all times! Don’t they know who’s crossing these mountains?”

“Less talking more working.” Sandy angrily chided. He had finished setting up the second tent all on his own. When Pigsy went to open his mouth to make another comment and the usually peaceful Sandy shoved him across the shallow cave to the last tent and the one closest to the entrance.

As Wukong walked past, Pigsy lifted an eyebrow at the strange sight. The Monkey King could see the pig beginning to lift a lip in a smirk only to stop when he noticed Sophie’s shivering.

“What did you do?” Those were the last words Wukong expected to come out of his fellow brothers mouth.

“WHAT DID I DO?!” He bared his teeth, fangs on display. He didn’t have time for Pigsy or for his own feelings to confuse him. He knew Sophie was practically clinging to his back like the newborn monkeys did to their mothers back on Flower Fruit Mountain. He was very aware of it. The last thing he needed was for this thick pink idiot to start shit with him.

“I DIDNT DO SHIT YOU THICK HEADED BOAR.” He spat, continuing past. “THIS IDIOT STARTED FALLING ASLEEP IN THE FUCKING STORM. NOW SHUT UP AND GET THE OTHER TENT SET UP.”

Wukong left Pigsy behind, angrily chattering to himself and feeling embarrassed all the while. He couldn’t let that thick womanizing boar know any of Wukongs feelings. If he did, the damn brute would only press his nose to it and route deeper. The sooner he got Sophie off his back the better. Even though he didn’t entirely want that.

He reached the back corner of the cave, setting Sophie down. She huffed, letting go with some reluctance to his warm back. The Monkey King knelt, leaning in. Sophie’s shivering was less. Good.

“I’ll be back- I have to make sure the pink ham doesn’t fuck up the last tent. Once I’ve tended Yulong and seen to my masters comforts I’ll be back to check on you.”

Sophie pulled her knees to her chest. She was still so cold. She wanted nothing more then to curl up and sleep- to find something warm and hold onto it. She heard Wukong from far off - but she nodded.

“S-S-sure… just gonna fall .. asleep.”

“Don’t fall asleep you idiot.” He snapped.

“Why not?” Sophie groaned. She was tired

“Remember. You are in wet clothes. Wake up just to remember - Think. Use that reading brain of yours.” He flicked her between the eyes. That woke Sophie up enough as the pain cleared her head.

“Ow, what the hell Wukong?!” Sophie felt like she had come out of a daze. Her fingers started rubbing at the pain. It wasn’t terrible but … she felt like a child be scolded. Sophie glared up into the smug monkey face.

“Awake? Good. Now fucking listen before you nod off again.” Wukong smirked just a bit. The itching beneath his fur had eased just enough upon seeing her get mad. He spoke slowly, for her sake but also to press in how much he enjoyed giving her orders- and being right about them. “Your clothes are wet. You can’t sleep in them. Change to new ones. In fact, bundle up as much as you can. I’ll be back to check on you.”

Wukong stood up, then turned back around to flick her on the forehead again.

“Ow! I’m up, I'm up!” Sophie rubbed at the space between her brows.

“Did you hear what I said?”

“Yes yes …” she uncurled herself and stood as well, looking down at the Monkey King. “Get out of wet clothes and get new ones. Bundle up. That really hurt you know.”

“If you are still in wet fucking clothes, I’ll do a lot worse then just smack you between the eyes.” And then he was away, already cussing Pigsy out who had, somehow, managed to rip the tent.

It was a only about twenty minutes later but Sophie had managed not to fall asleep. She had gotten into the tent and had peeled the worst of the wet clothes off. Her poor shoes were the worst for wear- the socks and the soles were soaked. She would have to wear her spare shoes tomorrow and let these ones dry. Sophie had set the wet clothes to the farthest side of the tent. She was now dressed in a pair of gray sweats, a long sleeve and her hoodie of bright orange with clementines decorating the front. She felt much warmer and absolutely exhausted. Her fingers were red where the cold had gotten them, her lips felt chapped from the dry air, and her body just kept shivering.

Sophie had retreated almost completely into the hoodie- only her face was viewable.

The tent flap lifted and Wukong stepped in, a bowl of some sort of wild berries and cold rice in one hand. He took one look at her huddled there on her sleeping mat and snorted.

“You look like some orange orangutan.”

“Hahah very funny. See how you like the cold when you don’t have fur.” She shot back. Wukong offered the bowl to her and she took it, digging into it with gusto.

“How’s Trip?” She asked between bites.

“Alive.” Wukong leaned back, putting his arms beneath his head as he stared up at the tent ceiling. “You two would have frozen if not for me- you were both starting to look pinker than yangmei fruit.”

“Thank you.” Sophie said.

“Mm? What are you thankful for ?”

Oh he was gonna ask her for all of it then? Sophie looked at him. Wukong had propped himself up enough to stare at her, waiting.

“Thank you for the food.” She lifted the now empty bowl- she had been famished - to him. “Thank you for finding a spot to rest. And … thanks for dragging me out of the snow.”

“You almost died I hope you know that.” He smirked, laying back down, eyes closing. She followed suit, too tired to sit up anymore or even bicker back with him.

“Yeah I did …” Sophie yawned. Usually she wouldn’t admit so readily to Wukong just how certain situations had made her dependent upon him. He was always, in some way or other, saving the lot of them. When Tripitaka was snatched up by some Goblins belonging to some chieftain of a nearby mountain, when Pigsy had boasted that they didn’t need Wukong and then (almost immediately) failed to find food when Wukong was sent away. He had stopped the dragon horse from foundering and taken to the care of his hooves and coat many a time. The Monkey King had seen to restoring the missing supplies from Sophie pack when a group of mischievous raccoon spirits had taken it. Wukong had even replaced Sandy’s teakettle when it was smashed in battle (Sophie was pretty sure he had stolen it).

He may act aloof and pompous but deep down, this big old brute cared for them. Even Pigsy.

Sophie felt her eyes grow heavy as Wukong kept talking about how she had stumbled in the snow like some “dumb struck fawn” until he came to help her.

As she relaxed to the sound of his voice rumbling on and on, it almost felt … cozy. Yes Wukong may like to slide the occasional wriggly salamander into her water skin, he may thumb through her things like they were his, he may call her idiot, stupid women, and softie. But. There was no real malice behind his actions.

He was also kind of … warm. She scooted closer, half listening to the Monkey ramble on about the idiocy of mortals and the greatness of beings such as him. He was rambling on about his natural prowess over mortals and how he had mastered the arts of immortality and Tripitaka couldn’t even master warding off a cold. Sophie fell asleep before he could get to the part about her looking like a slack jawed idiot in the snow.

Wukong was only a quarter way through his regaling of the story of how he had saved everyone this day when he felt hands wrap around his chest.

His heart nearly flew into his throat as he stopped dead in his speech. His mouth was open, voice cut off halfway through his speech. Sophie curled into his side, face buried in the crook of his neck and so close to his ear he could feel her breathing against its shell.

Electricity shot threw him, fur standing on end as if he had been in a thunderstorm.

He was suddenly very aware of many things. Of Sophie’s hands that had escaped that ridiculous orange sweatshirt and were now burrowed into his fur. One arm was across his chest. The second one was now, somehow beneath his head and tugging on his shoulder. Sophie’s face rested on his arm and in the curve of his neck, her face rubbing back and forth like a cat. As if … she was enjoying the feel of it.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

Sophie moved just a bit, mumbling in his ear and Wukong felt his tail lash like it had just been bit. She didn’t say anything coherent but — the proximity alone—

Fucking Hell and all its Judges.

Sophie was … cuddling him.

She was practically twined around him.

And she smelled fantastic. Her scent always changed- sometimes it held a hint of lemons and the sweetness of grass, other times it floated like rain clouds and smelled of stones. But all of it together had a larger perfume beneath it. It was just her. Yes there were moments when her scent changed just enough that he felt like he was adding new spices onto his favorite dish. The essence of it, however, was just Sophie.

And now that cloud was all around him, filling his nose.

He looked at her, turning his head just a fraction to see.

Big mistake.

She was asleep, passed out completely. She looked so … fragile asleep. The dark circles beneath her eyes spoke of how she hadn’t been sleeping well. Her nose was stupidly pink like a Red Pika in her pale face. The cold must have chapped it. His eyes darted to her lips …

Mistake number two.

Wukong looked away, feeling his face flame. Fuck. Shit. He was stuck in a predicament now. He hadn’t meant to chat away about himself for so long that Sophie would fall asleep. Wukong was at war with himself. On one hand, he needed to get out of here. To leave before Pigsy and the others found out- before Sophie found out.

He couldn’t let anyone be that close to him- couldn’t let anyone be as close as Sophie was right now. It was a liability to his pride, to his reputation—

To his heart. Because if she rejected him it would ruin the friendship they had. And the feeling he had building in his chest- he would crush it in his fist before he let it jeopardize that peace between them.

I have to leave —

Wukong tried to move-

Only to feel Sophie’s fingers tug in his fur and her sleepy voice grumble “m’no don’t go.”

Jade Emperor flay me and boil me alive again.

In all the hundreds of years of living, Wukong had only felt trapped like this but once before. The first time he had lost his wager to the Buddha, having been unable to somersault out of his hand. The second time? He was trapped because he allowed it. He was trapped in a way no one in Heaven could have predicted- or had thought to do. Wukong had been placed in vats to be boiled, had wormed and tricked his way out of every trap and net that had attempted to keep his mischief managed. It had taken Buddha and his wager to finally end Wukongs terrorization of Heaven.

Wukong couldn’t move now. He was tethered here by frail fingers and the steady beat of a mortal's heart.

He could hear her heartbeat, feel it against his side. It was steady, soft. Like the steady roar of Water-Curtain Cave. Like the wind through the trees of the orchards on his mountain.

She was mortal. One day that steady beat would stop as all mortal hearts did.

That set his tail to lashing just a bit.

Hasn't she been afraid of dying? Of growing old? He remembered hearing a conversation late at night- when Tripataka and Sophie had those rare mortal conversations where he was explicitly not allowed to sit in on. He hadn’t known why it was such a secret conversation. So of course, since it wasn’t an order, Wukong had pulled a hair from his tail and made a doppel and floated somewhere nearby but out of sight to eavesdrop. The Monk and Reader had been chatting about death, about Sophie’s future.

Well her fears were unfounded. Doesn’t she know I would take care of her? Sophie shifted a bit closer as a gust of wind slipped beneath the tent flat he had left unsecured. Damn it all. Wukong carefully, o so carefully, shifted himself. He slid his body so he was now lying on his side, setting Sophie’s head beneath his chin. It was all the invitation Sophie needed to cuddle closer and escape from the wind.

“You stupid women.” He angrily whispered into her hair. He wouldn’t let her die. He would just fix that. He would fix a lot of her problems. She just had to tell him. He was Sun Wukong, Great Sage Equal to Heaven. He knew of a hundred different ways to achieve immortality. He could fix them all. Like her problem right now of being cold.

He was too tense to relax fully- too aware- but he grew just a fraction larger. His size now dwarfed Sophie’s a good bit and gave her a bit more to tangle into. And she did. Sophie curled her knees up, shivering slowing. Wukong waited. Watching. When finally the shivering had ceased he allowed just a fraction of tension to slide off of him. This stupid softie is gonna make me soft. The thought didn’t bother him as much as it would have months ago.

Maybe he wouldn’t get much sleep tonight but…

He could make her life Hell in the morning. It was something that she owed him on. His face was screwed furiously into a scowl because all he wanted to do was enjoy this moment but if he did- if he really truly did- he didn’t know if he would be able to stop.

She was most assuredly going to be bombarded tomorrow with the most annoying and snappish teasing and toying a King of Monkeys and tricks could give.

Sophie woke with a start as something cold and wet slapped her in the face. She panicked as any person would.

“GaH! DEMON!” She cried, grabbing at her face and throwing it aside. It was a wet rag.

“Relax.” Wukongs voice laughed at her. “Unless cloth can become possessed and has gained a hunger for red nosed mortal flesh, you're fine.”

He was at the tent flap, grinning ear to ear in a grin that promised problems. Really so early in the morning and he already wants to play games ?

“You could have woken me up in a number of other ways- why did you pick that?” Sophie rubbed at her face, feeling … huh. She didn’t feel as sore as she usually felt. When Sophie woke up there was almost a constant crick of pain in her neck from whatever odd angle she had slept in on the ground.

Maybe I had been so tired my body just finally didn’t care.

He shrugged. “You stink. Next place we stop at you better demand a bath of some sort or other.”

“Thanks….” She grumbled, letting the sarcasm drip off her words. She took the cloth up, rubbing the sleep out of her face and the worst of the dirt off her face and arms. She would kill for a warm bath, one that would wake up her bones and chase the last of the cold from her body. Once clean, she checked her wet clothes, bundling them away in a separate part of her pack to avoid them dampening the rest of her stuff. Then she stepped out of the tent, smelling the fire and the promise of breakfast being made.

Only for her feet to slip right from beneath her as a monkey foot stuck out and caught her ankle.

“WUKONG!”

He laughed, face full of malicious mischief as Sophie gathered herself up to chase after the errant Monkey. To do what, she didn’t know. He was a mystical demonic creature born of stone and she just a mortal women. As the morning light cut into the cave and Tripitaka had to order his disciple to calm down after he once again tripped her and she almost went sprawling into rocks, the pilgrims ate breakfast. They broke down their tents. And they were once again on the road.

None were the wiser of Wukongs happier mood. He hid it beneath a storm of frowns and a game of teasing torture as he became partically insufferable to Sophie. The threat of the hoop tightening spell was the only true damper to his mood when Tripataka heard Sophie scream as snow was dropped down the back of her shirt.

As the sun rose higher and the word was cast in a frosty flash of refracted gold, Wukong made a decision. He would solve Sophie problem of growing old. It was easy. And if Buddha couldn’t send her back…

Well she was a great sport for pestering and heckling. The least he could do as a benevolent King is give the poor women a roof over her head.

Maybe a few dresses down the line...

Girls liked dresses right?

“Hey Reader!” He called.

“What?”

“Dresses or suits ? What did you wear in that fake time long after this one ? Or whatever fake dimension you fell out of. What did you prefer ?”

And thus began the long hour debate that somehow pulled every one of them: Pigsy, Sandy and Tripitaka, into what was a heated discussion on the best attire for the best occasions.

#hcwrites #writing stuff #I DID ANOTHER ONE #thank you little anon for mentioning a cold snuggle scenario #I love when there’s cuddles even if one party doesn’t know or remember and the other is both ecstatic and pissed the fuck off about it #I Hope i wrote them well #the formatting took me longer then I thought #for jttw monkeybuisness #Sophie #Sophie and Wukong #sun wukong x reader #jttw sun wukong #jttw reader #jttw fanfic #I gave Sophie an orange hoodie because she already has a ‘magical’ peach kawaii cup.#make all her things fruit related #just writing the scene where Wukong walks back into the tent and has to pause because Sophie had turned into an orange made me laugh #I Hope i got your boy down Kiri!#thank you again for letting me write for you #this was a welcome break from my 30 page spree #I listened to two songs - the first part was #with Tourner Dans Le Vide #the second part where they are in the tent was with Of Monsters and Men ‘Love’#it helps to have a song hook you into writing because then you can follow the feeling of it and stay focused #I mean- songs are like a tempo to keep pace with.#sun wukong #jttw au #I did look up all the snow born illnesses to be a bit accurate.#also that falling asleep bit in the snow ? yeah that almost happened to me as a kid. it only took ten minutes - be wary of snow and cold #hcfanfics

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whumpy-daydreams · 6 months

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CPR in hospitals

I did a post on doing cpr as a 'civilian' (i.e. in public with no equipment). But most people who follow me are writers! So here's how it goes down in hospital.

It varies on where someone is in hospital having a cardiac arrest, so this is just for if a patient is in a hospital bed with monitoring on.

The first sign is going to the monitor going crazy and the patient unconscious.

Step 1 - pull the emergency button and start chest compressions (they are still the most important thing!)

Step 2 - someone else will give rescue 'breaths' using an oxygen mask and bag (technically called a bag valve mask or BVM). Two breaths after every 30 compressions

Step 3 - someone else is cutting clothes off and putting defibrillator pads on. An anaesthetist may also intubate the patient and put them on a ventilator (this means you can do compressions continuously)

Step 4 - the defibrillator will scan the heart rhythm. If it's shockable (ventricular tachycardia or fibrillation) then everyone steps away while it shocks. As soon as it's safe, CPR continues (most defibrillators determine the rhythm and calculate voltage automatically)

Step 5 - if it's a non-shockable rhythm, give IV adrenaline ASAP

Step 6 - if it's a shockable rhythm, wait 2 minutes after first shock, check and shock again. Repeat a third time.

Step 7 - if the patient is still in cardiac arrest after 3 shocks, give IV adrenaline and amiodarone

Step 8 - continue CPR and give adrenaline every 5 minutes.

The person giving compressions should switch every 60 compressions (two cycles of 30) - the next person is counted in so there's no time without compressions

There are 10 main causes of cardiac arrest - while all of this is happening a team of doctors will be trying to work out the cause so they can treat it. I won't go into the causes because it's boring and technical.

CPR, defibrillation, and drugs will continue until the cardiac arrest stops or the patient is declared deceased.

If someone is in hospital because of hypothermia, remember! They're not dead until they're warm! (there have been cases of hypothermia patients being successfully resuscitated after over 5 hours of CPR!)

#cpr #cardiac arrest #tw medical #writing advice #I got to do this in a simulation with a defib and it was so cool

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gwenphobic · 11 months

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— GOOD LUCK

— GWEN STACY x CATWOMAN!READER

IT’S THE MIDDLE OF JANUARY. There’s snow on the pavement, ice on the roads. Gwen finds that spandex isn’t exactly the most well equipped for cold weather.

YOU SHOW UP SPORADICALLY. She won’t admit it to herself, but she quite enjoys you and your snarky comments. When you show up behind her, Gwen nearly jumps. Thank goodness for Spider sense.

“MISS ME, WEB HEAD?” you ask, standing behind her with a grin on your lips. Gwen rolls her eyes though you can’t see it due to the mask. “Of course not,” she mutters, crossing her arms. “Who would miss you?” she asks. She sounds cold, you notice. Not cold in personality but rather like her teeth are chattering.

YOU’RE PERSONALLY FINE. Your suit is well equipped, made of pure leather. When winter comes, you even add a little sweater for fashionability, obviously. “Looking cold now aren’t we, Skippy?” you tease, crossing your arms.

GWEN DOESN’T SEEM TO FIND YOU FUNNY. She glares at you. “Shut up, crazy cat lady,” she murmurs, abashed. You grin even wider at the flustered Spider-Woman. “Are you gonna rob something or are you just gonna be annoying?” she asks.

YOU SCOFF. “Must you always think the worst of me, Spider?” you ask, huffing. Gwen stares at you for a moment and deadpans, “You’re a world class thief. Why wouldn’t I think the worst of you, Cat?” You think for a moment before shrugging. “Fair enough,” you agree.

A GUST OF COLD AIR PASSES BY THEM. Gwen shivers, crossing her arms and all but hugging herself. You stare at her for moment before sighing. “C’mere, Itsy Bitsy,” you say, rolling your eyes. Gwen scoffs. “Last time I came near you, you knocked me out! No way,” she replies. “You knock someone out one time, and suddenly it’s all they think about,” you mutter.

GWEN SIGHS, WALKING CLOSER. She stands next to you and gestures a well? You slip the coat off your shoulders and hand it to Spider-Woman. “Here,” you say. “Season of giving ‘n all,” you add sheepishly. Gwen stares at the coat for a moment. “Is this a trick?” she asks. The lenses of her mask squint.

YOU SHOVE THE JACKET INTO HER ARMS. “Just take the damn coat, leggy,” you mutter. Gwen huffs before she hesitatingly slips it on. She shivers slightly before sighing and saying, “Thank you, cat.” “Anything for my favorite spider themed vigilante,” you reply dryly.

THEY BOTH STAND IN SILENCE FOR A MOMENT. Gwen sticks her hands in the pockets of the coat before saying softly, “Seriously, thank you. I.. appreciate it.” She faces you when she says it. You stare back at her for a moment. You can feel a faint heat creep up to your cheeks. “Well, we can’t have you dying of something as stupid as hypothermia, can I?”

#gwen stacy #gwen stacy x y/n #gwen stacy x reader #gwen stacy x villain!reader #x reader #across the spiderverse #first time posting my writing on here #TY 4 100 LIKES!!#✧.* sadie writes

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aceofwhump · 7 months

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Hi everyone! Welcome to my blog!

I decided to make a new pinned post with all the information that is available on my desktop site but that will be more accessible for mobile users. Plus a few extras 😉

So an introduction.

I'm Ace. I started this blog back in February 2018 after seeing a post that referenced the whump community. I had no idea there was such a large community here on tumblr! As soon as I saw that making a whump blog was an option I immediately made one. And I haven't regretted it since. I love this blog, I love this community, and I'm thrilled to be here three years later!

Here on this blog you'll see lots of gifsets both reblogged from wonderful creators and gifs made by yours truly. I also write fanfics on occasion. You can check out my work on AO3 under the name "aceofwhump" or you can look under my tag "ace writes stuff". That tag will have some stuff not on AO3 too. I also do whump lists for certain characters, trope lists, video clips of good whump, and fanfic recs.

Click on the read more for even more information and important links to things like gifmaking tutorials, my trope tag list, my show/movie tag list, my fanfic masterlist, and more!!!

My favorite tropes are:

Emotional: panic attacks, nightmares, insecurities, feeling inadequate, fear, grief, flashbacks, flinching, emotional breakdowns full of sobbing, emotional outbursts, scar reveals, anxiety, self hatred

Environmental: accidents, natural disasters like earthquakes or storms, hit by a car, collapsed building, falling through ice, heat exhaustion, hypothermia, falls, burns, infected wounds from lack of medical equipment, sickness, being unable to breathe, drowning

Small moments: limping, feeling weak and seeking support, breathing through the pain, moving wrong in a way that aggravates the pain, and the sudden seizing of his body, shaking hands, pressing the heel of his hand against his temple because of a headache, taking a moment to close his eyes because he’s light headed/exhausted/has such a bad headache

Sci-fi: space illness, oxygen deprivation, isolation, being locked in the brig, hull of the ship getting damaged, alien attacks

Injuries: broken bones, gunshot wounds, hidden injuries, bruises, beaten, concussions, collapsed lung, slings, casts, crutches, knocked unconscious, blood loss

Torture/Captivity: Being strung up by their wrists from the ceiling, drugged, chained up, caged, tied to a chair, handcuffed to a pole, interrogated

Comfort/Caretaking: hugging, “Are you okay?”, “You’re safe now”, “I’ve got you”, hand holding, helping to walk, ice packs, covering someone with a blanket, a cool cloth on their forehead to help with a fever, a fever check, touching their face to offer comfort

Magic: magical healing that causes pain, draining of powers, powers that are painful to use, curses

Stoic or defiant whumpees

Team whump

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Long detailed look at how I make my gifs

Gifmaking tutorials:

Gifmaking for Begginers: my ginormous all you need to know tutorial

Another look at how I make a gif

Tips for beginners

Tips on brightening dark scenes

How to get into gifmaking

Photoset dimensions

How to make a layout gifset

Gif speeds

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Links from my desktop blog for mobile users:

My gifs

My whump videos

Ace writes stuff

My Writing Masterlist

Trope tag list

Show list

My Whumptober Masterlists

Fanfic Rec Lists

Blog Archive

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Introducing…

ACEOFWHUMP’S FANFIC MASTERLIST!!

This has been a massive, ongoing project of mine for a while now in which I am endeavoring to catalog and categorize every fanfiction I’ve ever bookmarked. I fear this project will never be complete as I'm always reading and bookmarking new fics but I’m going to share it anyway.

Inside, you will find links and summaries to the fanfictions I’ve read over the years on both AO3 and FF.net. Each fic is sorted by the specific whumpee that they center on. So there’s a page for Danny Williams, for Mike Warren, for Lucifer Morningstar, and many many more. The fics are 90% whump with a touch of fluffy ones thrown in too. This list is based on the fics I’ve read and bookmarked so it leans heavily on my favorite whumpees and my favorite tropes.

I’ve been working on categorizing every fic by its tropes (so theoretically you could search for say seizure fics or sick fics) but that’s taking me a loooong time because I have to reread every fic in order to determine what kind of categories to make and to look for the specific tropes. So for now you’ll have to make do with the fic summaries and using the search function. When it’s done, each whumpee will have their specific trope categories so you won’t necessarily find the same tropes in each category but it should help narrow down the fics better once I’m done. This is an ongoing project for me.

The list gets updated all the time so check back in every now and then. There might be something new.

I do take suggestions of fics to add to this masterlist but please keep in mind that it may not end up on the list. It's nothing personal I promise. I just can't add every single fic in the world.

Here's the link (note that it opens best on desktop browser because it is large):

#pinned post #mod post #tags #links #blog links

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skellymom · 3 months

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"Vagabonds" Chapter 11

Ongoing fanfic Hunter x Reader/Fem Reader/OC

ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜰɪᴄ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴꜱ ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ. ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ 18+ ᴅɴɪ

To read Chapter 10:

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/743633412345282560/vagabonds-chapter-10?source=share

Word Count: 1.4K

Background: Echo, Tech, and Wrecker help the crew of the Beldame. Will Hunter have regrets? Two flashback sequences.

Warning: Star Wars swears, Earth swears, fear, physical pain, fainting, blood, hypothermia, dog bites human, human bites human, human takes knee to balls, human takes fist to nose, canon-typical violence, medical trauma.

(Credit: Cool moving star dividers by @4ngelic-wh1spers )

Recap: Echo broke the silence, “DEFINITELY BSC! The message keeps repeating. Don’t know what the other part is...”

Tech interrupted excitedly. “Notes on the musical scale!”

Tech repeated the Basic Alphabet that corresponded with the notes to Echo.

“With the Basic Standard Code...” Echo started the sentence...

...and Tech finished it, “They’re coordinates!”

They both spun their seats around and immediately engaged the Marauder.

Wrecker stopped humming and tapping. “YOU’RE WELCOME!”

"In The Depths Of Darkness"

It took some doing, Echo and Tech finally found the Beldame floating aimlessly out in space.

The hulking ship was dark.

“Are they...?” Wrecker was even afraid to finish his sentence.

“I certainly hope NOT.” Tech was EVEN MORE worried now.

Wrecker replied. “But...What HAPPENED??? Where’s the Venator???”

“I cannot answer that question. It... seemed to have...vanished.” Tech was baffled.

“We can dock topside on the Beldame.” Echo pointed to the top hatch. “Allow access while keeping an oxygenated seal between the two ships. Then haul the crew up into the Marauder...whatever their status is.” Echo’s large amber eyes tried to hide his deep concern.

“We should wear our helmets with oxygen gear, and each carry a light source. I am unsure how long it’s been since their power failed” Tech added.

“I'm on it!” Wrecker started gathering equipment.

Tech and Echo landed the Marauder on the Beldame’s back and secured the seal between the ships.

When they were finally able to open the hatch and enter, the scene surprised them.

The whole interior of the ‘Dame was covered in a very thin sheen of frost. Wrecker, Tech, and Echo could see their breath with each exhale...when their flashlights caught it. Otherwise, the cabin was completely DARK.

To add difficulty: everything not tied down was floating around the interior of the ship. The gravity had failed as well. Luckily the crew of the ‘Dame was tied together for warmth and moored to one of the bunks.

Wrecker floated in first and clamped a heat lamp to the interior of the ship and aimed it at the crew. Echo, then Tech slid in.

Muffled barking commenced, and Tiggy excitedly scrambled out from the mass of bodies. She doggy paddled in zero G towards Tech still barking.

Tech floated over, embracing her, then tucked the pup into a pocket on his utility belt. He immediately started to scan the crew for vitals.

“They are ALL alive, however, severely hypothermic. Wrecker, help me get them immediately to the Marauder!” Tech started to untie the binds to grab the first crew mate to take to the Marauder. Wrecker followed suit.

Echo assessed the interior of the ship, pushing floating objects out of Tech’s and Wrecker’s path. He brought his hand back and found it slick with spots of fresh blood.

“SOMEONE is actively bleeding!”

Wrecker grabbed Hunter and...” Love has dried blood all over their face! What IS GOING ON???” He started to pull them with him out of the group.

Tech immediately spotted the source. “It’s not Love’s blood. Mad is hemorrhaging!” He noticed the area around the top of her inner thighs soaked through considerably. She was horribly pale.

Tech grabbed Mad and sailed back through the opening towards the Marauder. Tiggy whimpered concerningly. Wrecker followed with Hunter and Love in tow.

Echo grabbed hold of Sil, who even though passed out, was still tightly hugging Omega and brought them back to the Marauder.

Cold black space remaining...black...darkness...

Mad... treading through darkness...

...voices echoing...touches brushing against her skin...

...stabbing her arm...under the skin...searching for a vessel...

Didn’t she escape this once before? A long, long time ago? How was she here again?

Mad screamed and darkness filled her mouth, threatening to choke her into silence.

Wires and medical lines flowed and coiled around her like seaweed, brushing her skin, threatening to tangle Mad’s limbs.

Up above...a tiny light penetrating the darkness...she swam furiously towards it. As she ascended the light grew larger, the voices louder...but the quality was distorted.

Something from the deep blackness gripped her leg.

Elongated white arms, hands with long fingers...like the bloodless corpses of snakes...

Milky eyes peering up from the dark depths...whispering...where are you going, experimental subject number...

She fought and kicked, gasping for air, swallowing some of the darkness...retching...

...then kicked harder breaking free. Treading water like her life depended on it. Floating up...up...up...

...breaking the surface, her retch turned into a terrified scream.

Awakened from one nightmare into another. Mad, bolted upright from a bunk in a foreign environment. Cold steel and lighted mechanical panels surrounded her, no longer in the warm, comfortable environment of her own ship...

...there was a mechanical scomp in her face.

Echo, assisting Tech to place an IV catheter was the victim of bad timing. Poor Echo NEVER saw it coming. Mad powerfully kicked out, catching him full in the chest. He sailed back and slammed into the wall. Tech, concerned with Mad tearing out her catheter, grabbed her arm. Mad sucker punched him in the face while screaming hysterically. Poor Tech never saw that coming. He fell to the floor holding his nose.

Mad ripped out the catheter and sprang from the bunk.

Echo ALMOST recovered...but Tiggy intervened. The puppy, suddenly driven by her owner’s behavior viciously attacked him. He managed to stave her off with his scomp. But she kept coming for him, snapping and growling.

“WHAT THE FUCK???” Echo yelled out.

Hunter DID sense this coming. The second Mad awoke, he did too. He bolted from the front of the Marauder to the back.

Mad didn’t get very far, as he grabbed and held her fast. Both arms pinned to her sides in a secure bear hug. She screamed obscenities and growled at him. Clearly, she didn’t recognize Hunter at that moment.

“Mad... ” She was clearly delirious. "We're not going to hurt you!"

Struggling did no good against Hunter’s strength. Mad kneed him hard in the crotch. Hunter gasped and went down on both knees but didn’t let go.

Mad screamed like a banshee. Her anger rising.

In the next room Sil had a full-blown panic attack. Omega held his hand, trying to talk him through it.

Wrecker ran in and grabbed up Tiggy. The pup acted as if she didn’t recognize him at all. She bared her teeth and actively tried to attack him too. Wrecker tossed her from hand to hand like a hot potato to avoid being viciously bitten.

Mad’s anger hit her limit. She slammed her face down into the crook of Hunter’s neck and sunk her teeth deeply into the flesh...

...at the same time Tiggy bit Wrecker.

Both men simultaneously cried out from the pain.

Hunter released one hand from Mad, attempting to get her teeth out of him. Her free hand scratched at his face viciously.

Tiggy slashed Wrecker with her nails.

STOP! Love placed both hands on Mad’s head. She immediately went limp, released her bite, eyes rolling back in her head...

...as Tiggy immediately went limp and did the same.

Tech got up from the floor, nose bleeding. “I...managed to record EVERYTHING!”

“Fantastic! Could’ve used some help there.” Echo full of adrenaline. “Good thing the kid knocked her out.” Nodding to Love.

Echo and Tech grabbed Mad and put her back up on the bunk, then resumed replacing her IV catheter.

Wrecker sat Tiggy on the bunk and offered his good hand to Hunter.

Hunter shook his head and groaned, cupping his injured manhood, actively bleeding from his shoulder and face.

Wrecker understood completely. “I’ll get the bacta patches.”

Down...down...in darkness again....

...Mad drifted down landing on her back...A heaviness on her abdomen...

...nightfall on Dathomir. The stars shining above, heat of a bonfire, surrounded by Night Sisters.

They tended to Mad’s every need during labor. Empathetic, sweet, and powerful women helping to usher a new life into the world.

Mother Talzin present and chanting over the fire. Mad’s breaths corresponding with Mother’s chants and the contractions of her uterus. Night Sisters breathing in unison as well. Wiping the sweat from her brow and tending to her labor pains.

It was the least the Sisterhood of Dathomir could do. Mother Talzin’s son refused to be present for the birth of his own child. Leaving the planet to live his own separate life as he pleased. Talzin did her due diligence to be present for her grandbaby’s arrival.

Mad was sorrowful, as the Nomaadi Community attempted to contact Mad on Dathomir to also attend to baby’s birth. Mad eventually discovered she was purposely being kept isolated from her own family.

Two ships: the Dread Beldame and the Vardo covertly hovered out of sight in the sky, ready to take Mad and her child away at a moment’s notice. Mad’s clone sister “SHE” rallied the few Nomaadi warriors who were able to help.

Mother Talzin was none the wiser of this.

Several Night Sisters understood and respected Mad’s choice. And, disagreed with Mother Talzin’s methods. They helped plot secretly to assist with the intervention...some planning to leave with the Nomaadi as well.

...because Mad knew beyond a shadow of a doubt Mother Talzin was only playing at being accommodating. Mad could see the omen of celestial bodies in the sky above her. A baby born under these conditions signaled to Mother Talzin this child would have some sort of significance. She would keep the baby and NEVER let Mad’s child leave this planet.

And she would NEVER let Mad leave alive, either.

PLEASE like, comment, and/or REBLOG!

To read Chapter 12

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/747902380483526656/vagabonds-chapter-12?source=share

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mercury-healthcare · 11 months

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Medical Equipment Manufacturer and Supplier in India

In the field of healthcare, the quality and reliability of medical equipment play a vital role in delivering effective and efficient patient care. Mercury Healthcare, a leading Medical Equipment Manufacturer and supplier in India, has emerged as a trusted name in the industry. With its commitment to excellence, innovation, and customer satisfaction, Mercury Healthcare has been revolutionizing the healthcare landscape in India. In this blog post, we will explore why Mercury Healthcare is renowned for providing the finest quality medical equipment in the country.

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nunalastor · 13 hours

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Buckshot Anon here and... of all the things for me to be called for, I was expecting it to be about Alastor's injury from Adam or the deaths of other members of the cast. I did not expect it to be the logistics of an AU of Roo impregnating Alastor, better known through research as Spawn of Evil AU. I don't know what it says about me that I actually have an answer to this.

The how of this happening is a bit more simple than it should be, and that is that it probably happened through traumatic insemination. Species of invertebrate do this like bed bugs because apparently they are a menace to humans as well as themselves, wherein the male stabs the female in the abdomen and injects the baby-making materials directly into a wound in the abdomen. If Roo can make a fertilized egg, this would be the method to do it.

The thing with this is it also explains why the pregnancy would be fatal in nature, because Alastor isn't exactly equipped to handle that, therefore the pregnancy would be an ectopic one (the fertilized egg implants outside a uterus Alastor does not have) and would therefore be implanted somewhere in the small intestine most likely, and that right there is where all the problems would lie, and some new ones my research into this AU hasn't tackled.

Extreme exhaustion would indeed happen, and it would technically be from the child sapping his life, but it wouldn't be in a magic way. It would be in a malnutrition way because having a fetus growing in one's intestines drastically hinders the ability to eat food. This would additionally explain why angel blood acts as medicine: it's food that can easily get down because it's liquid. Normally an IV would be used for this, but I'm going to go into speculation and assume there is also a medicinal effect here. Because the reason ectopic pregnancies are terminated the second they are discovered is because it's impossible for both mother and child for this to be sustained. The improper organ would rupture with the child's growth, causing internal hemorrhaging, severe pain, and in many cases death. Lucifer seems to be agreed on to have a healing power, so my theory for why angel blood would be so effective is it either prevents this outright or heals any damages that do happen. It would also have to be a god-tier painkiller because this pregnancy would be agonizing, the child being chill would be the only thing preventing a horrifying complication, and Lucifer would need to be at Alastor's side every hour of the day to make sure nothing happens.

As for the matter of childbirth… yeah, no, that’s not happening naturally. If we’re going by the assumption Roo is giving Alastor no help here, he is not designed for this, there are no new pathways for this, and the only way this child would be born is either ripping its way out like that scene out of Alien, or if Alastor's death makes him disappear, leaving only the child in his place. C-Section would be the only real method here, and Lucifer would need to have that healing ready or some spare intestines and blood bags for emergency surgery. To lessen the damages, the best method would be to deliver the child early the moment it could survive outside of Alastor, and not let any type of labor start. Muscle contractions trying to move the child to no avail would destroy his intestines and cause massive internal bleeding.

In summary. Here’s what this pregnancy would look like:

Alastor is starving, and would eat very little if at all. He needs an IV and angel blood to stay conscious or alive, and the malnutrition would drop his body temperature to practically hypothermia so he would need blankets or heavy clothing.

Lucifer would need to be by his side or give him access to angel blood at all times lest an organ rupture, he hemorrhages, the entire immune system starts attacking, and he dies before he even starts to show more than looking slightly bloated.

This whole process would be agonizing unless angel blood comes with painkilling effects, the intestinal blockage would cause nausea as the body tries to prevent any eating with nowhere to go, and extreme dizziness leaving him bedridden.

Childbirth is a no-go, C-Section needs to go from Plan B to Plan A. The child would need to be delivered around 7.5 months to lessen damages, and the irony of that given deer gestation is not lost on me.

Honestly, if Lucifer didn’t intervene so early, the whole pregnancy would look much more like Alastor had terminal cancer from a tumor in his abdomen. Keeping how dangerous this is from Charlie would be a masterclass in deception.

(Note: Alastor would not look pregnant, someone could mistake it as such if he has heavy clothing on, but even the most bare-bones inspection of his bare stomach would prove this looks like a tumor.)

Hope this helps!

👀

#hazbin hotel #nunalastor asks #buckshot anon

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bubble-popping · 30 days

Text

for all i've talked and answered questions about my Into the Fire au, I've yet to actually post my writing for it XD that changes today!

this isn't quite the beginning of the au but it's the beginning of if i ever write a full fic on it (do not hold me to that lmao) so yeah!

tw for mentions of torture, scars, and c!Techno being Weird about c!Dream

The admin pulled away from him, stumbling through the snow in bare feet. (It'd be a miracle if he hadn't gotten frostbite by now.) The cloak and thin prison uniform were the only things shielding him from the freezing temperatures. "No, you don't understand. I have to-I hafta go, I need to meet them-" "Meet who?" Techno questioned, a little harsher than he intended. Dream startled. A slip of the tongue then. Techno narrowed his eyes, shoulders squared as he approached. The shorter instantly shrunk.

"Um." He swallowed thickly. "F-for my armor, I-I need my armor back. I need to get it."

Chat wasn't buying it and neither was he, but he'd let it go for the moment. "I can make you new armor, Dream. You're in no condition to be going anywhere but inside that house." The piglin hybrid pointed to the cabin behind them.

"B-but, they'll find me, Techno! This is the first place they'll look! Sam and the guards and-and Quackity, oh god, Quackity-he can't find me! I can't let him find me-"

Techno abruptly grabbed him by his arms, gazing intensely into the single wide, terrified eye he could see of Dream's. "And he won't. They won't find you. I'll protect you, Dream. No one will lay a finger on you."

After a long moment of studying Techno's face, visibly struggling through an inner turmoil, Dream finally relented with a resigned sigh. "Okay... I'll, I'll stay for a little while..."

Techno softened his expression. "Good. Here, let me carry you inside. You'll get frostbite with your bare feet in the snow like this." Dream surprisingly gave no protest, he merely nodded. So, Techno lifted his malnourished body into his arms and entered the cabin, rushing to get the shivering bundle of an admin next to the fire place. It'd be utterly embarrassing if Dream died of hypothermia after he worked so hard to get him out of the prison.

Dream's skin was ice cold when Techno set him down in front of the fire. Even with Techno's warm red cloak wrapped tightly around his form, he wasn't exactly equipped for any extended time in the bitter arctic air. Techno got another blanket to wrap around him and a pillow for him to hug before closing the front door. With no chance of any coldness seeping into the home, Techno was a little slower in his movements. He slipped off his armor, hung his crown up, and pulled his boots off his feet. His gaze traveled to the shivering figure huddled by the crackling flames. Even after causing quite a bit of chaos earlier, the voices still spewed their nonsensical ideas, most of them being things he could do to Dream.

For now, he ignored them, and padded over to sit next to Dream. The blond flinched away at first, still not used to a touch that wasn't meant to harm him even after Techno had held him like he did. Perhaps the enclosed space and familiar hues of the orange fire were bringing back bad memories...

"It's okay, Dream. You're not in the prison anymore. You're safe. There's no one here but me and you," Techno cooed to him as softly as he could, putting some emotion into his usually unfeeling tone of voice.

Dream remained hesitant at first, leaning away from Techno and further curling in on himself. Techno had his hands up in surrender and kept still to let Dream decide for himself. The last thing he needed was Dream constantly cowering away from him.

Eventually, Dream's tensed shoulders dropped and he scooted closer to nuzzle against Techno's side. He still winced when Techno wrapped an arm around his shoulders, but luckily relaxed much quicker. Techno waited a few moments to let Dream settle before he began to rub his arm in slow, soothing motions. The rhythm made Dream's eyes droop and he felt an exhaustion permeate within him so deeply it made his body sag like his bones were turned to liquid.

Before unconsciousness could claim him, he murmured, voice further muffled by his barely intact mask and the layers surrounding him, "Th-thank you..." It also didn't help his voice was hoarse from screaming for hours, for days on end.

"There's no need to thank me, Dream. Not yet anyway. Not until I get my hands on those guys and-" Techno stopped himself. Probably not the best idea to scare Dream by saying all the horrid things he'd do to Quackity and Sam for harming his trophy.

Dream didn't respond, but Techno could still hear his quiet breaths so he wasn't concerned.

Only once his shivering had stopped did Techno speak again with a suggestion, "I think it'd be a good idea to look at some of those injuries and clean you up before we go to bed. Are you okay to walk?"

"'m not sure..." Dream screwed his eyes shut as Techno helped him to his feet. Moving was suddenly so much harder after having a moment of true rest.

His legs were shaking and grunts of effort left his lips during the process of just standing up. The second he tried to take a step, he immediately collapsed into against Techno. Dream whimpered at his own helplessness, a mix of shame and agony haunting his heart, but Techno shushed him placatingly.

"It's okay, I've got you. Do you want me to just carry you again?" Techno had both arms securely around the other, feeling Dream's bony hands grip at the front of his ruffle blouse.

"Please..." Techno gladly obliged. He once again lifted him into a bridal style carry, holding him close as he ascended the staircase to the second floor.

Passing his bedroom, Techno went to the bathroom to sit Dream on a small wooden stool.

"Is it alright if I help you undress? It'd make it a lot easier."

(Just the thought of Dream naked, weak and unable to fight back as Techno did what he pleased had the piglin hybrid biting back a groan.) Dream nodded, completely oblivious to the hole he was digging for himself.

Techno removed the thick blanket and red cloak from Dream's shoulders, then proceeded with much more caution to get the horrendous eyesore of a uniform off. Dream was hunched over as he sat so he didn't get much of a look at anything special, but he was quite entranced by the sprinkling of hardly noticeable freckles over his skin. He'd seen them before when Dream would roll up his sleeves or the very rare occasions Techno had seen his face without the mask and they were much darker and more numerous then. Months without sun hurt his trophy in more ways than one. He liked those freckles--not so much that he'd immediately let Dream go outside just so they'd be more obvious but still.

"Probably best we clean you up first, then tend to your wounds," Techno said. Dream just nodded again. So obedient and with such little persuasion. It was doing wonderful and dangerous things to Techno's mind.

The pinkette lit a fire under a cauldron of water and waited for it to heat up a bit before filling a bucket with the warm water. "Ready?" He asked, giving Dream a moment to mentally prepare himself, and poured the water over Dream's head. His thin body tensed and shuddered as the water cascaded over him, discolored into shades of red and brown. His mane of hair absorbed most of the water. Techno just knew that'd be a pain to deal with, already dreading the maintenance to come. Maybe Dream would let him simply lop it all off...

He repeated this process a few more times, making sure he rinsed every part of Dream's body that the other would allow. Anything more would have to wait for when he wasn't covered in cuts and bruises. Then, he got some supplies from the cabinet by the door and kneeled in front of the drenched blond.

"Where does it hurt the worst?" Techno asked as he began soaking a cloth in a potion of regeneration.

Dream unfurled his arms from around his own torso and held them out, revealing multiple slashes across his flesh. The scent of blood entered Techno's nose and it took everything in him not to spill more from the shivering man in front of him the way Chat begged him to. He took a hold of one of Dream's hands and was about to apply the potion when Dream suddenly pulled away. "P-please... Please, be g-gentle..." His voice shook like he was on the verge of tears.

"Of course, Dream. You know I would never hurt you." He left 'unless you give me a reason to' unsaid. Dream offered his arm again, letting Techno take it once more and dab the cloth to each cut, healing both old and new wounds. Dream stayed mostly still and quiet during it, only wincing occasionally.

Once his arms were done, Dream straightened his posture for the first time to expose his chest. The skin there was just as bad, if not worse, than his arms. Lacerations, bruises of varying colors, and even burn marks. Techno restrained from commenting as the only words on his tongue were promises and plans of revenge. He wet the cloth again with more of the potion and healed what he could.

An hour later saw Dream dressed in new clothing that hung off his skinny body and his hair pulled into a ponytail to be dealt with later. Techno never really thought about it before, but he certainly was now: the contrast between their respective sizes. Being part piglin had Techno nearly a foot taller than Dream, and don't even get him started on the body mass difference exacerbated by the prison. Techno could easily wrap his hands around Dream's waist and practically have his fingers touch. He could pick him up and carry him around with such ease. It gave him too many ideas to count.

Techno helped Dream to the bed and the blond was awkward as he lowered onto the mattress. As if the whole thing was foreign to him, and it probably was. Months of sleeping on hard obsidian would do that to a person, make them uncomfortable on a clearly superior place to rest.

Dream struggled to find a good position to lay in, so Techno spoke up, "Would it be better if I laid with you? I won't if you don't want me to, but it might help to-"

"Yes, please," Dream answered before Techno had even finished. Techno chuckled softly and climbed in bed beside him, feeling Dream immediately cling to him. There was still the occasional shiver that left Dream's body but other than that, he was okay. He was clean, healed, and dressed in some of Techno's old clothes which Techno absolutely loved. Oh, how he couldn't wait for his trophy to be ready for him...

#dreblr #dnb #dreamnoblade #dsmp fanfic #dsmp au #bubble writes #into the fire au #the bulk of this was written literally years ago when the ideas first came to my mind so. yeah.

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zoeykallus · 1 year

Text

Mayday

Mayday x Reader Oneshot

Angst/Fluff/Comfort

I already put it in the tags, but just in case: SPOILER ALERT FOR TBB SEASON2!!!!

___________________

AC: After a misunderstanding with someone requesting this on anon. I decided to write this one now and don't put it in my to-do list first. As a little "apology" because I was pretty rude. Wish I could tag you, but unfortunately you contacted me on anon. Hope you still get to read this 😊

___________________

Actually, you don't work for the Empire. You are an independent contractor, a small business mainly for cargo and logistics. When an Imperial officer contacts you, you are reluctant to take on the job. However, you don't want to upset the Empire either. None of your handful of workers is eager to deliver the cargo for the Empire, especially not to Barton-4, the ice-cold lump of a planet. So you take over the delivery yourself. Food, gasoline, energy packs for flashlights and a new generator for environmental sensors are to be delivered. Even the approach to the imperial station is complicated and dangerous. Fierce crosswinds push your cargo shuttle from all sides and make it difficult to land the ship safely. But you make it anyway. With a sigh, you see the clone troopers coming across the landing platform, who should be unloading the goods. You put on your thermal jacket, zip it up to the top and pull the hood of the jacket over your head, then you open the ramp and see the soldiers already coming towards you. Their equipment doesn't look exactly winterized, some of the men are provisionally wrapped in cloth and skins in addition to their armor. The sight makes you frown. One of them addresses you. "Of course, the Empire is sending civilian transport out here". You blink, then say dryly, "I guess the Empire knows they don't have pilots good enough to land in these weather conditions." You hear a rough laugh from under the clone's helmet, shortly after the soldier removes his helmet and you see an unfamiliar image. You clearly have a clone soldier in front of you, but one with long hair and a full beard, something you haven't seen before. He holds out his hand to you. "I'm Commander Mayday, this is Hexx and Veetch." You shake his hand, the others too, and introduce yourself. "Hi, nice to meet you guys" Maydays laughs again, and you can see a cheeky glint in his eyes. "We'll probably get to know each other a little better, whether you like it or not, the weather has been closing in, changes like this happen practically every minute around here. You're not going to get the shuttle out of here anytime soon." You look down the ramp, over which an icy wind blows into the interior of the shuttle. Outside everything is white, it is snowing, a blizzard, you can barely see two meters. "Fantastic," you say with a dry smile, and begin to help the men unload.

You have your own little area. But at night, the weather still hasn't cleared, and the cold is even more relentless than during the day. A bit unsure, you make your way out of your little cabin and into the main area, where you find the commander. He is sitting at a heat battery, his helmet lying next to him on a dura steel table. When he hears your footsteps, he looks up. You are still wrapped in your thermal jacket, in this outpost nothing works at all, not even the heating system, which is actually essential for survival. A barely noticeable, gentle smile twitches at the corners of his mouth as your eyes meet. "It's not so easy to fall asleep in this cold, especially when you're not used to it. In fact, it's probably better that way, here in this cold they tend to mistake fatigue for hypothermia. Lost some good men that way". You raise your eyebrows in surprise as well as shock and sit with him, close to the heat battery, across from Mayday. "Wait, that's that serious medical condition in which a person's body temperature falls below the usual level as a result of being in severe cold for a long time? Right?" you ask, frowning. Mayday nods. "Mmm, that's right. The body shuts down, you get very tired, but in reality you die instead of falling asleep." "That's terrible! Why don't you get proper care here? They should have given me more heat batteries and a technician to get your heating system back up to speed. Not even your equipment is intact." Mayday sighs softly and shrugs his broad shoulders, his arms folded in front of his chest, a thick wool blanket draped around his shoulder. "Clone soldiers are expendable, we always have been, but since the Republic was replaced by the Empire, it's worse than ever" Your teeth start to chatter even as you try to suppress it, your whole body keeps shivering as it tries to fight the cold that creeps under your skin despite the thermal jacket. Mayday raises his brows and looks at you. "You're not used to the cold, hmm?" "Not even close," you admit, "I've spent most of my life on Tatooine." Mayday laughed softly, "It's an extreme contrast to Barton-4."

He taps the bench he's sitting on next to him and holds out his blanket invitingly. "If we huddle together, we can keep each other warm. I'm happy to share my blanket with you" For a second you consider if the clone has any ulterior motives, but even if he does, it is so cold you don't care, and he is probably just as cold, probably even too cold for ulterior motives. You walk around the table and sit right next to him, close to the heat battery, and let him put the blanket around your shoulders so that the two of you are finally underneath it. You sit so close to each other that no hand's width fits between you. Your pulse is a little faster and you really feel warmer. However, you are not sure if it is the blanket, the heat battery, or the situation. Slowly, you turn your head to look at him. "Are you okay?" he asks quietly, and you can feel the bass in his voice as you sit so close to each other. "Yeah, it's getting better" He smirks. "Told you so"

You talk for a while. Mayday tells you about his experiences in the war and how he and his men have fared since he was stationed on Barton-4. You sympathize and feel your anger at the Empire flare anew. At a certain point, you are leaning against him, and he has an arm around you. It happened automatically and yet your heart is beating fast. You talk until the sun comes up. As you both look out the window and see that the weather has cleared up considerably, you feel no real relief. You have enjoyed Mayday's company very much, and the fact that this togetherness must inevitably end pleases neither of you. Mayday takes you out to your shuttle on the landing platform. As you say goodbye, you begin to feel a certain longing, which is reflecting in his eyes. On impulse, you kiss his wind-chilled cheek. He blinks in surprise, but he finally smiles at you. "We probably won't see each other again too soon," he says a bit wistfully, with a sad smile. You smile and say, "Maybe we will." As you take off in your shuttle, he watches you for a long time until the shuttle is completely out of his sight, and finally turns back to the outpost with a sigh.

One week later "Commander! An unannounced shuttle is on approach!" Mayday jumps up, puts on his helmet and asks, "Identification?" "It's the cargo shuttle that was here a few days ago, the civilian freighter". Mayday feels his pulse quicken. "Really?" "Yes, sir." Mayday makes his way out onto the landing platform, alone this time. He doesn't want to greet you in the presence of the others, wants a moment to himself. He's as excited as a young Cadet and doesn't really know how to categorize that feeling. All he knows is that he is looking forward to seeing you again. As the ramp to your shuttle opens, he pulls off his helmet and tucks it under his arm. You smile back at him as you walk down the ramp. "Actually, I can't allow you to land here, not without explicit Imperial permission," he says with a wry smile. "And yet you don't seem to want to chase me away," you return, amused. Mayday admits, "I was looking forward to seeing you again." You smile, feeling your face grow warm despite the cold wind. "I take it the Empire still hasn't provided for you properly?" He shakes his head. "We are expendable, still". You cross your arms in front of your chest and say, "Not for me". Behind you comes an astromech and a cargo droid. "I brought you something" Mayday frowns. "This is not an official delivery by the Empire". You shake your head, confirming his statement. "No, a little something from me and my workers. We chipped in and got you a few things. The cargo droid is to help you with transportation and the astromech is an all-rounder, he can fix your heating system. I also brought half a dozen heat batteries, a few more rations, including caf and tea." Mayday strides up the ramp so that you are finally facing each other halfway up. "Thank you." A simple word, but coupled with the soft expression on his face and the warmth in his voice, this word speaks more than a thousand words. You kiss his cheek again, like last time when you parted. "You deserve it, more than that, actually. But I hope this helps you for a while" Suddenly his hands are on your cheeks and his face comes closer. His lips touch yours. It's not urgent, not challenging, it's tender, slow, and intimate as he kisses you. Your heart almost flips over in your chest. As his lips very slowly, languidly break away from yours, you ask softly, "Would you like me to stay maybe a night or two?" Mayday smiles and replies," Please do."

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

#spoiler #tbb spoiler #tbb s2 spoiler #bad batch spoiler #clone #clones #clone x reader #mayday x reader #clone fluff #clone comfort #star wars #bad batch season 2 #clonelove #tbb #imperial clones #mayday #clone commander mayday #fluff #cc mayday

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chezzywezzy · 2 years

Text

Yandere Hush (2/4)

Word count ; 4.0k

*Edited.

A scream escaped her lips at the top of her lungs. She stumbled back, and as she gripped the counter, the man smiled sinisterly. He stood straight and shoved the pick into the handle. Y/n squealed, tears pricking at her eyes. She reached for a knife, but after eyeing the large weapon the man was equipped with, she decided to make a run for it.

She didn’t have time to do anything. Not put on shoes and winter clothes, not attack the man who was far more well-endowed, nothing. And that terrified her so badly, because the murderous creep had clearly planned everything down to a dime.

Damn the blizzard. She’d either die of hypothermia from running outside, or she’d die in here while trying to escape. But she had a family. She had friends. A career and a future. She couldn’t just let herself die or whatever he was planning for her.

Gripping the steak knife, she skidded across the kitchen to the guest bedroom. The door was already open and she simply slammed the door shut. She turned the lock, despite knowing that wouldn’t really do much, and surveyed the room.

Just then, she heard the kitchen door slam open. The man called her name, taking his sweet time as he crossed the room. Y/n’s heart was beating out of her chest and she rounded the dresser by the door. She began lifting and pushing, and due to the lack of stuff inside, it wasn’t nearly as difficult to pick up as it could’ve been.

Just as the dresser was starting to shift in front of the door, she could hear the killer messing with the lock. Y/n grunted with more urgency, putting all of her strength into pushing it. She squeaked as the killer was humming a tune to himself - something oddly familiar, but not enough so - as he worked to unlock the door.

As the vanity completely pushed itself in front of the door and Y/n’s body collapsed against it, panting profusely, the door swung open. The mirror was tall yet thin, and a few inches were still still uncovered by it. The killer was waiting for a moment, clearly pondering, and Y/n took the chance to stand straight and stumble away.

“Leave me alone!” she sobbed, her words barely coherent.

“Oh, I’ve tried, sweetheart,” the voice croaked. “Now, I know you’re in there, Y/n! Move this shit out of the way now. I ain’t gonna hurt you. I just want to meet you. You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this…”

Y/n shook her head and buried her face in her hands. She was trembling head to toe, and she knew she couldn’t stay where she was. She moved to the window, and knowing damn well she had no choice, she opened it. The guy heard the squeaking movements and it made her hearing aids whir with discomfort.

Suddenly, the man grunted, and something was pushing against the vanity. Y/n squeaked, shivers rolling down her spine as the cold air nipped at her skin. She was frozen to the bone just from the wind and stray snowflakes, and she could barely see three feet beyond the window.

She turned back to the vanity. The man was strong, somehow managing to crunch up the vanity mirror. Out of fright, she looked between the dresser and the window. And then, her eyes flitted to the bed. She gulped, and as a last second decision, dive-bombed toward it.

It was warm underneath the duvet. Y/n watched from underneath the covers, but the moment she realized what the man was doing, she let the warm blanket shield her view. The killer, with his raw strength, was cracking the glass and pushing it downwards. His thick winter clothing easily shielded him from the flying shards.

In horror, as it completely cracked off from the dresser, he saw the open window. He cursed loudly, immediately assuming the woman had clambered outside into the cold. And he didn’t want that. It was nearly impossible to track down the neighbor when she was only a few feet away, and he’d given Y/n too much of a head start.

He grunted, sliding right over. His boots crunched over the glass and he rushed over to the window. He immediately peered out, squinting toward the ground. He paused for a moment in thought. It was snowing hard, but not that hard. Not enough to cover entire footprints in the span of thirty seconds.

Y/n was petrified underneath the bed. She even tried to silence her breaths, clutching one hand over her mouth as the other had a death grip on the hilt of the knife. She thought, for a moment, he somehow climbed out silently. But, not even a second later, she heard it.

Creak.

And then, with a sudden thud, the howling wind stopped and the window was obviously shut. She heard more shuffling, like rubber being pulled free of the fabric. Y/n’s eyes widened in horror in the realization that he’d most likely unsheathed his crossbow.

“I know you’re in here, cutie,” he drawled tauntingly. “It’s best you come on out now so I don’t have to do anything unwillingly.”

Y/n gulped, hearing him pace to the other side of the bed. He halted, and she saw the tips of his winter boots flexing and teetering against the wooden floorboards. He was waiting. And he knew damn well that she was here. Her mind was churning for a plan.

She shoved the knife into her pajama pants, hoping that, for the love of god, the knife would remain and not slide down her rear end. Slowly, she scooted out. She heard the man snicker gleefully, and she was struck with terror as she completely pushed herself from the bed. One bunny slipper was abandoned underneath, but that was hardly the least of her concerns.

“Oh, and there she is. The star of the show.”

Y/n gulped, rising to her feet shakily. Tears pricked at the tips of her eyes and a deep frown was etched into her features. Immediately, she came face to face with the man’s crossbow, poised on her figure. It was more so aimed lower, perhaps at her leg, and she didn’t like that.

She gulped, and the man, with a wide grin, began circling around to her side. There was a predatory glint in his eyes. Y/n pushed herself behind the wall, and she felt the knife perfectly in place. She was trembling viciously, and even more so when he felt his gaze flit across her entire body.

She placed her hands on the wall beside her, pressing against it as far as she could. The man’s movements were slow and steady as he closed in on her, never once lowering the crossbow. His expression was conniving and clever. Every single part about the encounter was planned, and Y/n didn’t like that.

She didn’t like much of what was going on, to be frank. And understandably so.

The man had her trapped. With one final step, he halted, trailing the crossbow up from her legs, over her stomach and chest, and then paused. Only then did Y/n realize it wasn’t loaded. It was but the wooden frame and all of the arrows were still in the sack over his shoulder.

She grit her teeth in irritation. She could have taken him. But not now. Not yet.

He then placed it right underneath her chin, tilting it ever-so-slightly upward. His eyes scanned every movement, and although there was a haze over his azure eyes, he was calculated none the less. Y/n squeaked as he pressed it, keeping her chin tilted just perfectly. He seemed to be in awe, lips slightly parted, taking in her expression.

The man wasn’t tall by any means. He was around her height. But, after physically ripping the mirror off the dresser, it was clear he worked out and it was clear he made business. Y/n felt like she was in front of a bear, having to play as dead as she possibly could.

“Such a pretty little thing,” he purred, voice deep and low. “You have your hearing aids in, don’t you?”

He suddenly lowered the crossbow, holding it limp at his side. He took one step closer, closing the gap and leaving hardly an inch between the pair. Y/n gulped, watching warily as his hand drifted to her cheek, and then her hair, and then her ear. He prodded at the device, almost admirably, before his hand drifted to her cheek, cupping it.

A deep blush ran across his expression and the hood of his coat slid off, revealing his entire head. He adorned such a normal haircut. It made Y/n sick to her stomach, because he was the sort of guy you never thought to be much of anything, much less a murderer.

“Aw, sweetheart, your eyes sure are red. What, don’t tell me you’ve been crying over me. I already told you, I ain’t going to hurt you unless I need to. Do you understand?”

Y/n shut her eyes tightly, nodding in response.

The man’s lips were pursed and there was vague irritation evident in his deadly orbs. “I said, do you understand?”

“Y - yes.”

His eyes widened drastically and he physically melted then and there. A quiet gasp escaped, and only in such quiet did Y/n realize that there was slight buzzing emitting from her hearing aids. She flinched as the man cooed ever so gently, running his thumb over her skin.

“Aw, just as I imagined. A voice as sweet as honey. Just like in the movies and interviews. God, aren��t I just the luckiest man to be standing here right now…”

Just like that, Y/n’s hand slid behind her back. Her stomach arched forward ever so slightly, and the man grunted in confusion - but just as much awe. In his movie-freaked-obsessing mind, he thought nothing suspicious about it. He was too embarrassed from the sudden movement to think anything of it.

That was, until something scraped along the wall and something sharp stabbed into his upper thigh. He let out a sudden mewl of pain, and it was only reinforced as Y/n abandoned the knife there and pushed at his shoulder. He tried his best to recover immediately, but his mind blanked from the searing agony, and he ended up fumbling the crossbow from his grip.

He fell back onto the floor, hitting his head on the guest bed. Y/n shrieked at the top of her lungs, but the man shouted in fury, kicking his leg out. Y/n tripped, somehow being sent to her knees. That gave the man time to recover just enough, leaching forward to grab the woman.

His grimy paws snatched her foot, and Y/n kicked free. She was screaming at the top of her lungs and she crawled forward, using the bed to get back on her feet. She limped over to the dresser, but only then did she totally collapse, feeling shards of glass penetrate through her sock and almost her slipper.

The killer, at the same time, removed the knife. He cursed to himself, releasing labored pants. The blood was already spilling, but he readjusted his pants to cover the wound for the time being. He grunted and grit his teeth, forcing himself to his feet and snatching up the crossbow.

“You…! Get back here, Y/n!”

Y/n yelped, forcing her body over the counter. She tried to ignore the pain as her body flopped onto the other side, thrusting the glass further into her foot. The man placed an arrow in his bow and situated it so that his finger was on the trigger. He was already feeling rather dazed from the wound, but he squinted his eyes in order to focus.

She barrel-rolled to the side of the doorway. She began climbing toward the kitchen door, and when she got there, she used the counter to pull her to her feet. The blood smeared across, creating a trail, and as she peered back, she froze. The crossbow was trained on her figure, and a sneer had grown to the man’s face.

“Don’t you dare move or I’ll shoot,” he hissed. “Not enough to kill you. Oh no, I’d never do that. But I’ll be damned if it doesn’t hurt a lot. Understand, sweetheart?”

Y/n, wide-eyed and tearful, nodded. She noticed how he huffed, and it was clear he wasn’t doing too well. His finger went lax o\n the trigger just enough, and Y/n realized that was her in.

She suddenly dived behind the counter. Just as she did so, an arrow whizzed past where her hip once was. A shriek escaped and she began crawling once more, making it for the slightly open kitchen door. She heard him grunt as he forced himself over.

“Come here, girly, girly, girly! Don’t you go anywhere, now! I don’t appreciate you stabbing me. And if you go out that door, I sure as hell won’t go easy on you!”

His threats fell on deaf ears. She pushed the door open, and almost immediately, shivers consumed her. She crawled out on hands and knees, and just as she turned, shutting the door, she saw that he was there. An arrow clinked agaInst the glass where she once was, and she gulped. She used the door to stumble to her feet. Both of them were limping, and when he was but a few feet from the door, she turned. Her blood trailed along in the snow, and she was careful as she descended the steps.

As she sank ankle-deep into snow, the wind blowing furiously - so much so that her hearing aids were malfunctioning up the wazoo -, she realized she could hardly see a foot in front of her. Much less follow one of the back roads to god knows where.

She truly and utterly regretted sleeping off the jet-lag on the uber here.

She heard the door slam open, and she made her decision. She didn’t want to leave footsteps. He was fairly light on his feet and agile. He had a weapon. And, amongst this blizzard, he’d be shooting blind. She recognized the steps and how vast it was under the porch. Gripping the rail, she slid her body underneath.

It was warmer, but only slightly so. Her pants were soaked with the snow as she fell flat on her behind. The layer was thinner, maybe only an inch. She shoved her other foot into the slipper, trying to curb her furious shivers. She was soaked and frozen to the core.

She covered her mouth and shut her eyes as the stairs thumped above her. The man walked down them, but when he realized the footsteps had already been covered up - sneakily so - and the blood no longer mixed, he let out a furious roar and stamped his foot into the ground. He instantly yelped, recalling his wound.

“I know you’re around here somewhere, sweetheart!” he seethed, his voice hardly audible with how harsh the wind was. “Now, when you’re ready to talk things out, I’ll be inside! You won’t survive out here for long, princess. It’s ten below. You’ll get hypothermia within ten minutes with what you’re wearing and you don’t even know where the nearest house is. Come inside when you want to be an adult about this.”

With that, the man started limping back up the steps. Y/n was frozen in terror, because every word of what he said was right. Tears pricked at her lips and she didn’t dare move until she heard his footsteps disappear and the door slammed shut.

And that was all she heard. Because, even then, everything went silent. She was still shivering, but she couldn’t hear it. And, in that moment, she realized. One of her senses had been disconnected entirely. But, as she finally allowed herself to peer around, she knew that wasn’t entirely a good thing.

Because, sitting not even a few feet away from her, was a thinly veiled corpse. And, from the stark black and grey hair and petite form, she knew it belonged to the kind woman from earlier. She had to grasp at her mouth to prevent a scream from breaking through.

Yes, she’d seen fake dead bodies. It was given with the job. But to know that the one beside her was real, that it wasn’t just corn syrup and makeup - it was awful. It made her stomach churn, but at least it was warm inside. It wouldn’t be for too long if she remained in the cold, though.

And, trying her best to ignore the corpse, she thought. She had to get inside at the bare minimum. To her bedroom, preferably. She absent-mindedly began plucking the larger pieces of glass from her food, even if her fingers were blue from the cold.

She needed those extra hearing aids. She needed warm clothes. She needed a weapon. Anything was better than nothing and stubbornly freezing in the cold. Granted, being shot by a serial killer was a cooler way to go, but she refused to let that happen, either.

Instead, she shakily rose to her feet and forced herself from under the stairs. She muttered a tiny’ rest in peace’ - or probably did, since it was impossible to know without hearing properly - and began crouching around the steps. She’d taken enough observation of the house around, and if she could recall, the upstairs windows could be open.

She crouched low enough to avoid sight, or she presumed. She weaved around the stairs and trailed along the porch. She didn’t dare look inside in fear of getting spotted. She didn’t know how loud the wind was anymore and she sure as hell didn’t know if she was loud. All she could hope was that she wasn’t noticeable.

As she finally went to the edge of the porch, she dared to peek. He was sitting on the couch and tying up his leg with a first aid kit stolen from god-knows-where in the house. He was peeved. His brows were furrowed tensely and anger was wrought in his expression. He grunted as he secured it. The crossbow sat next to him, fully loaded, and he was just generally being safe.

And then, he raised his head. Y/n ducked away just at the right time. She observed what was in front of her. A long plastic pipe that led up to the roof. Atop was several windows, one to the bedroom and the other to the bathroom. One of them was surely open.

She steeled herself, trying to position herself to climb. She began ascending the pipe, not knowing if she was being loud. For all she knew, just touching it could cause a loud creak. She was at a massive disadvantage and she couldn’t hate anything more. The only reason she had yet to discard the hearing aids out of fury was that they gave the shell of her ears a fraction of warmth.

Inside, the man was tapping his foot anxiously. He bit the inside of his cheek and checked the ornate clock on the wall. The house was shrouded in darkness, but he was able to see it clear enough. It ticked with every passing second, and it was quite annoying.

It had been five minutes. She was going to get cold or escape, and either way, she was as good as dead. And she wasn’t worth much if she was dead, in his humble opinion. His leg would heal; she’d barely missed a major artery. He knew from actively working as a nurse.

He took up the crossbow in his arms, marching right over to the front patio door. He peered out before pulling his hood up once again. With that, he slid open the door. His hearing was immediately consumed by the wind, and he could hardly see a foot in front of him. His eyes squinted, and he wished he hadn’t discarded his mask willy-nilly for the sake of attempting to comfort his beloved.

Y/n was unaware of the developments. She was just gripping the half-pipe lining the side. All of her weight was entangled with one flimsy waterspout, clinging to it for dear life. Even by releasing one hand, she was worried she’d slide right back down.

She gripped it tightly. However, just as she began hoisting herself up, it fell right off. She cried out, latching onto the actual roof tiles. Her body was sliding before detaching all together, and she was forced to use what strength she still had to try and pull herself up.

But he’d heard it. Her unknowing shriek of fright and something crack. The man was wrought with so many emotions. Betrayal, being front and foremost, but concern was second. If he’d been a little stealthier - if he hadn’t written that cheeky message to gloat - things would’ve gone smoother. She would’ve head to bed and he could’ve slipped in with ease and taken her away to his humble abode where they’d have their first date.

He’d planned it all. And, of course, the one thing that hadn’t been planned spiraled everything into shit. He marched down the steps, trying his best to ignore the pain that shot through his leg. And, as he rounded to the side of the house he noticed some of the piping had fallen fresh to the ground. He peered up, and only then did he notice the dangling legs.

“You get down right fucking now!” he barked angrily. “Do it or I’ll shoot!”

Y/n was so close. Just as she tried to claw her upper body closer, though, she made the grand mistake of looking down. Her eyes widened, realizing the crossbow was slowly being raised toward her. A shriek escaped and her strength gave out entirely. A scream echoed and the man flinched in horror.

He intended to take a step back, but the woman’s body flew on top of his. His body was a cushion, and the arrow accidentally shot right then and there, ricocheting off the building wall. The man yelped from the sudden wait, and Y/n’s immediate reaction was to claw at his lingering wound.

“Son of a bitch —!”

Y/n rolled onto her side, falling into the snow beside him. She clawed at the ground, picking up snow. The man reached out for her, but at the same time, she tossed the snow directly at his face. He yelped much to her unawareness, and his jerk reaction was to wipe his face.

That was a big mistake. Because Y/n took that one second to roll away further. The man was still reeling in pain. The shots of adrenaline being sent through her gave her momentary warmth and energy. She pulled herself to her feet, running full speed. Without both of her slippers, her feet were becoming numb and she could hardly feel where the glass pierced her.

The man pushed himself to his feet. He scolded himself for not just shooting. He didn’t want to, mind you. But he knew damn well Y/n wasn’t listening, especially after how delayed her reaction to his presence was previously. She wasn’t going to listen, either, because she’d be damned if she went out without a fight.

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