#I just know they would go like spelunking or some shit like crazy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

johannstutt413 · 3 years

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(requested by anonymous)

Asbestos parked her door-shield in front of the Doctor’s office door after closing it behind her. “Hey, you done yet? We’ve got some drinking to do.”

“This is four days in a row,” he sighed from his desk. “I’m starting to get used to having a hangover in the morning. Why are you so insistent about this?”

“You’re the one who begged to come on an expedition with me. If you wanna roll into a cave with me, you’re gonna have to pull your weight. I’m not sandbagging for your slow ass. Come on, damnit, daylight’s burning!”

He groaned, resolutely stationary. “But what the hell does getting drunk have to do with spelunking? And you’re the one who asked me to go with you by giving me a suit in the first place!”

“Because I had a spare, and it had to go somewhere, didn’t it? Sheesh.” The Savra crossed her arms and started tapping her foot. “Come on, time’s a-wasting. You know I won’t leave until you come along.”

“...Goddamnit. Fine, let’s go.” The Doctor stood up, threw his jacket on, and followed her through the double door...which she left in place. Of course she would.

She put her arm through his and tugged him all the way to her bar of choice - in other words, the one with the least amount of people. In fact, the only other person there was the bartender, a Forte with as many scars has he had fingers and said about as many words in a night, so in other words, it was just the two of them. “Give us both a whiskey lullaby, and keep it coming until this boy here becomes a man.”

“I’ve been one for a few years now, thank you very much.” He took the glass as it was put in front of him, took it straight to the back of his throat, and, admittedly, relished the burn for a moment. “You’re gonna be the death of me, one way or another.”

“Might as well be; otherwise, you’d never leave your office.” Asbestos took her one drink for the night slowly, monitoring the Doctor as he downed his second.

Then his third. He was getting much better at this. “Do you do this to everyone who tries to talk to you? Not that that’s many people, I imagine.”

“Magallan and Click didn’t need a test, and we only talk about our expeditions, so I didn’t bother. You, though? You need all the toughening up I can give you.”

“The hell does that mean?” His eyes narrowed; he’d let his hood fall down during the walk-drag there, and it gave his expressions an extra note of sincerity, like a fighter throwing aside their training gear. “Do you know the shit I’ve seen?”

She snorted. “No, and you don’t either, so don’t try that shit with me.” And there went number four.

“I wouldn’t if you didn’t pull out all the stops to annoy me...What’s your real game, anyway? There’s being tsundere, and there’s being a sadist, but you don’t really seem like either to me.”

“Tsundere? Wow, alright, nerd.” Asbestos, breaking tradition, finished the rest of her first glass and signaled for a second. “Who needs a game? I just want to be a jerk - is that so hard to understand?”

He slammed his free hand on the table. “Damn right, it is. Why d’ya wanna go around like that? The hell makes a person make that their whole goal in life?”

“Does it matter? I don’t want the baggage that comes with all that shit. All a friend would do is hold me back, anyway, and I’ve got too many crazy-ass caves to climb around in to make time for that. Especially a scrawny mite like you.”

“Maybe I am scrawny.” The Doctor, seeing double after his sixth glass, drifted his focus to her tail. “But that makes me pretty fast.”

The Savra followed his gaze and shifted so he couldn’t stare. “The hell are you staring at?”

“Heheheh...Nothing.”

“You’re a terrible liar. Hey, dumbass.” She snapped her fingers in his face. “My eyes are up here.”

It was too late; he was already pretty far gone by this point. “I’ve made my choice...Swish!”

“Swish?! What th- kyaaa~!” Without giving her any time to react, the Doctor had bolted out of his chair and was now standing behind her, grasping her tail with one hand and stroking it with the other.

“So smooth~” It was nice and warm, too. “Hehe- ow.”

The ‘ow’ was because Asbestos had kicked him off of her and was standing over him, hands on her waist. “Who the hell said you could touch my tail, because it sure as fuck wasn’t me!”

“But it’s all smooth and warm...You really gonna hog that all to yourself?”

“It’s my tail, asshole, that’s my right!” She groaned. “Forget it. You always get like this after five or so. It’s my fault as much as yours.”

The Doctor sat up, rubbing his head. “But you keep letting me get away with it~ Just admit it: you like when I do it.”

“...I’m taking you home. Come on, let’s go.” The Savra pulled him to his feet and started dragging him behind her again.

“♫’Bestos-chan is best girl♪” He sang to himself as he stumble-slid along behind her. “♫’Bestos-chan is best girl♪”

Asbestos was blushing, in spite of herself; her tail was lit up as a result, too. “Sh-shut up. Seriously, your voice is more grating than a piton on a rock face.”

“But you aaaaare best girl. Heh. You make, ♫dum-dum Hurt so good! C’mon, baby, make it hurt so good!♪”

“...Goddamnit.” He was always so cute after she knocked some sense into him, but...No. Giving in would just make him think he had a chance of getting through to her, and she couldn’t risk that. She had way too much to do and not enough heart to spare for him...At least, not that she wanted to admit to having.

They made it to the Doctor’s place without any more major altercations - no, just him singing his love to her off-key and her telling him to shut the fuck up. The usual post-bar routine. Tonight, though, things took a bit of a turn as the Savra opened the door for him, but he refused to let go of her. She dragged him into his apartment, but still, he hung on with a strength he’d never shown before...What was his damage? “Hey, we’re here. Get off. Train stops here.”

“Why should I?” Once she was stationary, the Doctor wrapped around her leg instead. “Then you might leave~”

“Yeah, that’s the idea, weirdo. Seriously, you turn into a perv when you’re drunk.”

He chuckled, chasing it with a hiccup. “Maaaybe.”

“You’re insufferable.” And yet… “Alright, look, if you let go of my leg, I’ll consider staying for a nightcap, but you can’t cling on me like fucking moss if I do, got it?”

“Alrighty-ighty-oh.” That convinced him; the Doctor let go of her leg.

She sighed, helping him to his feet. “There. I said I’d stay, so I will, but don’t get any funny ideas.”

“Sure.” Immediately, he kissed her, full on the lips, as he hugged her as tightly as he could manage. When Asbestos kneed his crotch, he pulled back, but he didn’t look like he was in any pain. “See? Not funny in the slightest.”

“...I’m never taking you drinking again. Forget the expedition, this shit isn’t worth dealing with-”

The Doctor, who seemed to be drifting in and out of consciousness up to this point, cut the act and stood up to his full height - a good half a foot taller than her. “You know you won’t.”

“The hell?” Asbestos stared at him for a moment. “That...was all an act just now, wasn’t it?”

“If there’s anything you taught me to do, it’s put on a front. You know I’m not a touchy-feely guy.”

The Savra shook her head. “Maybe not when you’re sober, but- Oh fuck, wait a minute.”

“Yeah.” He smirked. “Like you said, you don’t know the shit I’ve seen; I’m not even talking about the part even I don’t remember. This was never about toughening me up, Asbestos; we both know that.”

“You leave one chink in your armor, and the whole suit is worthless.” She sighed, wishing she’d brought her shield with her.

The Doctor nodded. “Especially when you wave it in front of the guy with a knife aimed at it, begging him to stab at it. The thing is, I know this isn’t about needing a friend, because you don’t really need those, so what is this about? Why tempt me like this, only to push me away every time?”

“Well, it’s not playing hard to get, I promise you that.” The Defender looked around for a place to sit before deciding on the bed, since it was her only option in her immediate vicinity. “Look, I don’t...I don’t want to leave anyone behind when I go, alright? This Oripathy shit is gonna kill me one way or the other, and when it does, I don’t want someone missing me when I’m gone.”

“...That’s it?” He’d sat down next to her, partially because his knees were kind of wobbly, but also to signify he was genuinely paying attention at this point.

She repaid him for that by punching his arm. “Yeah, that’s it, asshole. Seriously, I bare my soul to you, and you still bitch at me.”

“What can I say? I learned from the best.” After a moment of silence, the Doctor sighed. “So, what? You just wanna leave and forget any of this happened?”

“Yeah...No...Damnit, you’ve got me all confused.” Her tail was glowing again.

He put a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry about going overboard earlier. It’s not...I just...God, no, there’s not a single good explanation for that, is there?”

“You’re desperate? Hopelessly in love with me, willing to drag yourself through the mud behind me and get beaten to shit just to be near me?” When he didn’t say anything, the Savra sighed. “Of course you are.”

“Calling it love is too generous; I’m just a masochist who thinks you’re cute.”

Asbestos shook her head. “It just had to be you, didn’t it?...Alright, how about this: when we’re both less intoxicated, and I’ve gotten my shit straight, I’ll get back to you on where I want this to go. Sound good?”

“It’s better than nothing.” He sighed. “Until then?”

“Until then?...Eh, why not? One for the road.” She ambushed him, giving him a kiss on the cheek before walking out the door.

The Doctor watched her leave, stomach full of butterflies and alcohol-induced nausea and head absolutely spinning. Was that really it? No, it didn’t feel right-

The Savra walked back into the room and closed the door behind her, shaking her head. “I’m staying the night. The jacket’s coming off, but nothing else is. We’re gonna lie in that bed together, in a warm and tender embrace, and that’s as far as we go tonight. Got it?”

“You read my mind.” His shoes flew into the wall across from him and ricocheted off. “Really couldn’t get me out of your head this time?”

“That’s not it...I’m just cold.” The words rang hollow even as she said them, but it didn’t matter; the way her tail curled around him instinctively once they were both lying down, or the way his heart beat lulled her to sleep as she set his head against his chest, or the way he took it all in stride, seemingly grateful just to have a chance at all - those were the realities of the situation, and those were all she needed to come to terms with it for the night.

Because, even if she didn’t want a friend, it was nice to have someone to do this kind of thing with...

#arknights #asbestos (arknights)#finally!#and while we're talking about newer Operators #Cutter and Sideroca are getting fics too #the vulpo is too cute i can't stop myself #and the forte goes so hard if i don't she'll ram me through my laptop #so yeah!#arknights fic

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ice-cream-nekogirl · 5 years

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A Bell and The Refrigerator Light (Bakugou Katsuki x Reader)

Summary: You watch a horror movie that you really shouldn’t have and when you stay up all-night as a result, Bakugou promptly scolds you for your stupidity.

More or less inspired by my own sleeping problems lol and Yes I have some shameless references from my favorite cartoon in here and the movie mentioned in here will be used in another one of these stories cuz I love that movie despite the fact that it traumatized me as a kid and gave me nightmares XD

BTW SORRY FOR ANY OOC-NESS!!

Note: (F/D) means ‘Favorite Drink’

Featuring: Lord Explosion Murder!!

12:40 am

It’s not that you were an insomniac, you were just KIND OF an insomniac. At least that’s what you told yourself to convince yourself that you didn’t have a problem.

Which is why you often relied on fanfictions, Youtube videos, Netflix and movies to watch and read during the late hours of the night until you dozed off for a good 5 hours and sometimes if you were lucky, you’d get 6 hours of sleep.

No, it most definitely wasn’t a good habit of yours and you were aware of it, but alas, saying you have a problem is a lot easier than trying to fix that problem. However, it was a habit that your boyfriend was extremely irritated with. Bakugou Katsuki wasn’t known for being empathetic, but he did care about you, hell he fucking loved you more than anything. Which is why he was hard on you when it came to your worst habits as a means to get you to break them.

Helping you get some damn sleep was a little bit hard though.

You were in your dorm-room again and watching Stranger Things for the 11th time in a row and sniffling with happy tears when seeing Mike finally dance with Eleven, but you jumped a bit when your door slammed wide open.

But you didn’t even have to turn to see that it was no one other than Bakugou. Only he ever rudely opened your door like that.

“Damn you Katsuki! You freaked me out… and during the best part…!” You wiped your eyes to get rid of the tears, not really seeing the annoyed look on Bakugou’s face. Obviously, he wasn’t happy that you were still awake at 12 in the morning. He shouldn’t have even been awake but… he knew you were, which is why he was up, because you shouldn’t have been awake either.

“Shut up! I don’t give a shit, it’s fucking late! Go the hell to bed already or you’ll get bags under your eyes like that weird brainwashing guy.” He didn’t hesitate to scold you, “Besides you’ve already seen that dumb show like 10 times already and made me watch it with you 3 times…”

Smiling coyly, you shook your head, “Joke’s on you Katsu, I already HAVE bags under my eyes… AAAAND actually this is my 11th time because her name is ‘Eleven.’” You giggled a little bit, and if he didn’t love you and your laugh so much he would have yelled at you some more. “Get it?” You asked, but all that did was annoy him.

He grunted in annoyance, calmly closing your laptop and ignoring your pout. This is why you loved him so much, he always looked out for you even if he could be a total jerk about it. But that was just proof that he loved you. “Just go to bed already. It’s too damn late and you’ll mess up your body if you keep this habit up.” Bakugou for once, used a softer tone as he looked over at you, and you blushed and couldn’t help but smile widely at how much care he was showing for you right now.

You tried not to giggle, but you didn’t try that hard. “Aww Katsuki…” Under all those swear words was the care of your concerned boyfriend, and he hated that you just had to fawn over it as he growled and blushed pink. “Just go to bed!” He had to raise his voice, just so you would stop with that swooning. Even if it was true, he was concerned.

And you sighed happily, “Okay… okay… it’s late I know…” You put your laptop away, deciding to follow your boyfriend’s wishes, but not without giving him a surprise hug, which made him grunt in surprise as he couldn’t fight the blush heating his face. But he didn’t fight it since nobody else was around to see and he put his arms around you as he gave you a ‘goodnight kiss’ on your forehead, which made you giggle as you kissed him on his warm cheek.

“Goodnight Katsuki~.” You said to him sweetly as he moved to go back to his dorm, before he looked at you softly and muttered a ‘good night’ and left you to get some sleep.

However…

Once he left, you closed your door and you DID try to go to bed as you lied there with your eyes closed…

For about 30 minutes and you weren’t tired at all. No matter how many times you tried to think of something to lull you to sleep, nothing worked. You sighed in annoyance; you had no idea how your poor friend Shinsou dealt with his insomnia, and you were worried that maybe you WERE insomniac.

You almost felt bad for going against your boyfriend’s wishes, but you couldn’t sleep even though you were trying your hardest. Giving up, you got your laptop and your earphones as you decided to maybe just watch ONE movie that will hopefully make you drowsy enough to fall asleep until morning.

It was kinda hard to choose even though you had no plans on paying attention, but eventually you settled on an interesting movie you recalled once.

The Descent.

You haven’t seen that movie since you were like in the 3rd grade. And you were a little too young to remember every single thing about it, all you remembered was that it was creepy and scary. You chuckled a bit, wondering just how bad it could have been now that you were all grown up now.

The Descent it was.

AN HOUR AND A HALF LATER ‘2:50 am’

Why the HELL did you watch that?

Is what you were asking yourself as you stared at your screen with wide eyes as you trembled in your bed as you watched this poor girl getting eaten alive. Turns out you couldn’t not pay attention if you tried once you remembered more about the movie from when you were a child.

At first you thought it was bad enough that the women got trapped, and then when the girl broke her leg, but now these ugly fucking things were chasing them in the dark?! This was a fucking horror show! And yet you were dumb enough to watch it when you should have listened to Bakugou…

Well you knew one thing now; you were NEVER going spelunking or stepping foot into a cave in your life. You were NEVER visiting the Appalachian Mountains in your life, and you were NOT going to sleep tonight. As soon as the movie ended with that terrifying scream, you recognized how horribly dark your room was now.

But there were no such things as cave monsters right? They would have been killed a long time ago. Curiosity was one of your many, many flaws though, and you trembled as you opened your door just a crack. Nothing but darkness and shadows draping along the walls due to the dim moonlight provided by the windows in the hall, but that did nothing to comfort you for you could only see blackness. At least you hoped that it was all you could see, but you couldn’t be so certain because the dark played tricks on you.

Tricks that were too easy for you to fall for as your eyes made you believe that the darkness was taking forms that you felt were coming to life, and you swore you heard very, very quiet creaks and something else that made your body shake as you quickly closed your door and locked it. Terror grasped you as you hurriedly turned all your lights on and you went back to lie in your bed.

Although you hated lying down with light shining in your eyes, the last thing you wanted to be around was darkness. Darkness was bad, and darkness hid monsters that would eat you if you let your guard down.

The only thing left to do was to stay awake until the morning…

IN THE MORNING…

You lied in bed, staring straight up at the ceiling with bloodshot eyes as the alarm on your phone went off and signaled that it was time to get ready for class. Like a robot accustomed to your schedule, you got up out of bed to brush your teeth, your eyes still wide and red with heavier bags under them as you threw off your pajamas after leaving the bathroom and got into your uniform.

How in the world were you going to function today? Your body was a lot more tired than it’s been in a while, and you were aware of just how sluggish and weak you felt without a proper amount of sleep. And on top of that, you were still shaken up from that damn movie from last night…

You didn’t stop thinking about it, and you were honestly worried that those things were hiding in the dark because you didn’t know what lurked in the dark. That’s why the dark was the dark, because it hid things and played tricks on people.

But you couldn’t let anyone know that, and you especially couldn’t let Bakugou know that either. In fact, other than telling you to go to bed earlier he’s also told you countless times to not watch horror movies alone at the dead of night because of how crazy you got after doing exactly that because the horror movies often freaked you out afterwards and made you act like more of a weirdo than normal. Now you were paying the price AGAIN for doing that…

However, you didn’t plan on letting him figure it out, so you took a deep breath as you put your shoes on and carefully left your room with your things. You thought that maybe if you load up on sugar and (F/D) that you could stay awake and hide the fact that you definitely got zero sleep last night from everyone.

For some reason it felt like no one was up, or maybe you were just late for the breakfast or something. But then something felt off, like there was someone or something approaching behind you fast as you turned…

“AH!” You jumped and gasped heavily with a shocked look from being startled, but your racing heartbeat start to slow down slightly as soon as you realized that it was only Shinsou, and he almost jumped from just how surprised you were. Nothing startled him much, but your reaction did it since he didn’t expect that from you.

He really was like a cat because he literally just snuck up on you and boy you did NOT care for it.

“H-Hitoshi…! Golly you need to put a bell on or something, you totally surprised me…” You kind of pouted as he had enough grace to look amused, even if your reaction was a bit… odd.

“Good morning to you too.” He said somewhat sarcastically with a small smirk, “You’re clearly out of it.” He wasn’t blind, obviously you were on edge about something, but you just laughed it off.

“Nothing… I just didn’t get AS much sleep as I should have… I need some (F/D)…” You stated as casually as possible and you were relieved when Shinsou kind of bought it. Or at least he bought it enough as he shrugged, “Not a bad idea… I didn’t get that much sleep either… that’s just my curse though…” Shinsou sighed, and you decided to walk with him to the kitchen so the two of you could load up on sugar and/or caffeine to wake up.

“Oh I totally get that… you ain’t alone in that struggle my friend…” You and Shinsou both exchanged smiles as you chuckled a little once you got into the kitchen you sighed heavily in relief when you saw the rest of your precious classmates like sweet Izuku, Uraraka, Todoroki, Aoyama, Tsuyu and Iida. “They’re alive…” You mumbled a little bit, relieved that those monsters didn’t get them as you got a large enough cup of (F/D) and ignored the looks of concern you were getting from some of your classmates.

“Good morning (Y/N)-chan…” Izuku greeted you politely, but the way you were drinking that much (F/D) was a bit confusing, and then you stared at him with wide eyes was… concerning. “Hi Izuku! Morning to you too! God I love morning… it’s an underrated time! The sun’s out! Thank goodness!” You probably shouldn’t have acted so crazy, but you were disoriented from a lack of sleep, so you’d use that as an excuse.

And you were dumb enough to forget just how smart Izuku was, how could you forget? You practically grew up with him and Bakugou. Izuku knew whenever you were acting crazy…

“Are… you okay (Y/N)?” Uraraka was just as concerned as Izuku was, and she could tell something was wrong, but you were going to hide it better. “YEAH! I’m fantastic Ochaco! Never felt better! Just happy that it’s morning! I’ve always been a morning person!” You claimed, but Shinsou suppressed a chuckle and shook his head. “No you’re not…” He muttered quietly, he’s SEEN you in the morning before and you were about as much a morning person as he was.

Naturally though, you weren’t fooling people as good as you hoped, even though Uraraka and Izuku were planning to leave you be, despite their concern, “If you say so…” Uraraka smiled nervously.

Todoroki might not have been as observant as the others when it came to people, but even he knew something was up, “You’re energetic this morning.” He pointed out, even though he was getting the feeling that it was a façade.

At least he hoped it was…

“A lot more than normal, because you’re normally pretty groggy and half-asleep in the mornings.” Tsuyu knew better just like Shinsou did.

“She is correct. You simply lack that sparkle in your eyes upon waking up every morning because you are not accustomed to it.” Aoyama pointed out, albeit flamboyantly but even he knew that you weren’t really convincing anyone given your erratic behavior.

Dammit, why did you think being around the Dekusquad was a good idea? They were all too observant and smart for their own good! You should have gone with the Bakusquad!

“Did you get a good night’s sleep (L/N)? I’m aware that you have some difficulty sleeping, remember that a proper 7 or 8 hours is necessary to maintain a rested body to perform your tasks in class especially for a Hero course student.” Iida sort of lectured you, and that KINDA made you snap just a little bit.

“YOU’RE A PROPER REST IIDA! AND YOU’RE A HERO COURSE STUDENT! WHY DON’T YOU GET A GOOD NIGHT’S SLEEP?!” You suddenly shouted at the top of your lungs with a borderline insane look in your eye, freaking out Iida, Izuku, Uraraka and Aoyama and surprising Todoroki, Tsuyu and Shinsou…

“W-What?!”

“I’m sorry Iida…” You went from 10 to 3 fast with a softer look, but Iida was still clearly shocked by your random outburst. “I’m sorry to all you guys… here lemme get you guys somethin’ to drink…” You said, going over to the refrigerator and opening it, but you were so out of it you weren’t even paying attention to what was in the fridge.

“Hey… Aoyama… would you mind helping me decorate my room sometime…? My room could use more sparkles and lights… a-and you’re the expert on anything bright…” Just like that you changed the subject, and yet Aoyama couldn’t help but feel flattered.

“Oh? Of course~, I don’t mind helping a friend with décor… I promise to give your room the proper make-over so that your room will shine brightly~.” He said and you couldn’t help but grin, that’s exactly what you wanted. Zero darkness, and nothing but bright lights.

“Great! Thank you! I mean I love lights and sparkles and shiny things.” You said with a slightly twitching eye, forgetting what you were doing as you then stared at the refrigerator light, “That’s why this fridge is great, the little light is always on… even when you close it… it’s still on. The refrigerator light is simple, yet beautiful… you see?” You opened it, and closed it.. and opened it…

“Hello light.” You ‘greeted’ the light, and your friends were both confused and slightly creeped out but mostly concerned when you didn’t stop opening and closing the refrigerator.

“Hello light.”

“(L/N). I must request that you please stop doing that, the refrigerator cannot work if you keep opening and closing it.” Iida had politely asked you to stop what you were doing, but you weren’t going to. You were enthralled…

“Hello Light.” Once again you opened it again and didn’t hear the sigh coming from Shinsou nor did you see the concerned looks from Uraraka, Todoroki, Tsuyu and Aoyama.

“Hello Light.”

There was only one person who could help now…

“K-Kacchan…?” Izuku was a bit scared to approach Bakugou, but right now he thought that going to Bakugou would be the best option since it was his girlfriend over here acting cuckoo and perhaps the explosive teen could help snap you out of this. And he DID manage to go over to his childhood friend while he was talking to Kirishima, “Kacchan…?”

“What the fuck do you want nerd?” Bakugou instantly got annoyed just seeing Izuku’s face, but the latter immediately pointed for the direction he wanted him to go, “(Y-Y/N)’s…” But the mention of your name got his attention. “What about her?”

“S-She’s uh… I think she’s… not feeling so good…” Was the best Izuku could describe it since your strange behavior was hard for him to explain. “Uh oh… let’s go see then.” Kirishima didn’t have to tell Bakugou twice as the ash-blonde grunted in annoyance, wondering what the hell was wrong with you this time.

As he and Kirishima paused with baffled looks once they saw you there, opening the refrigerator with the dumbest grin on your face, “Hello light.” And then you closed it, and opened it again.

“Hello light.”

Bakugou swore his girlfriend went crazy, but once he saw how wide-eyes and frazzled you looked, it didn’t long for him to piece it all together as he growled somewhat angrily, “Helllllo light~.” Just seeing you going crazy and being so stupid nearly sent him off the handle as he roughly patted your shoulder to snap you out of your daze.

“Hey idiot! Cut that shit out! What the hell are you even doing?!” He shouted loud enough to get your attention, but you immediately shrieked and jumped from being startled and backed away. Your heart practically beating out of your chest as you shook like a leaf as you stared at Bakugou’s indignant glare.

You calmed down ever so slightly, but you could still hear and feel your heart beating in your ears and practically pounding through your body.

“Oh… Katsuki… it’s just you…” You took a deep sigh of relief in spite of your trembling figure, which Bakugou didn’t fail to notice. Which is why he was SO pissed right now, “No duh, it’s me, what the hell’s the matter with you?” It wasn’t so much a question as it was a demand, since apparently it was bad enough that Deku had to fetch him.

You started to sweat, knowing that Bakugou wouldn’t be happy to know what you did, but facing his wrath was better than being in the dark with those monsters. Or was it? You wondered who was scarier… your boyfriend, or ugly cave monsters…?

Katsuki?

Cave Monsters?

Which was the lesser of two evils?

You made your choice.

“Nothing is wrong… except… that I’m in desperate need of a nightlight, I haven’t had one of those in forever, but you know, they’re surprisingly useful.” You dodged the question with a fake nod and smile, as you instead made a claim that just made your boyfriend even madder. “What the fuck are you talking about?! Don’t beat around the bush! Out with it already!”

His tone made you cringe, and you thought of trying to say another dumb remark, but unfortunately Bakugou wasn’t stupid. And he knew why you were acting so crazy…

“What did you watch last night? Tell me.” His eyebrow twitched a bit as he tried to be calm, even though he TOLD you to go to bed last night.

And you sighed heavily in defeat, looking guilty as you looked away somewhat shamefully, “A movie about claustrophobia and ladies going into a cave… spoiler alert… they’re not alone in there…” You admitted finally, and you didn’t have to look up to see his irritated expression.

“I told you to go to bed last night.” Despite that, he managed to sound calm as you nodded, “I know… but I couldn’t… I tried, I really did… I think I’ve got a problem with sleeping…” For once you said it out loud, since that was something you often pondered to yourself and never actually said to anyone, even though quite a few were concerned that you did.

“No shit Sherlock. You’re just like Eye-Bags…” Bakugou didn’t sugarcoat it at all, but you had learned to take his honesty long ago. And it’s not like he always meant the insults he said, “And now you saw a damn horror movie on top of that… at night… by yourself…” You could tell he was getting angrier, and you prepared yourself for it, it’s a good thing you didn’t brush your hair because you swore sometimes, he yelled with such force he could blow your hair.

“You go batshit every time you do that… forget about going to sleep…” He sighed and grumbled in annoyance and brought you closer to him. You could see some fury in his eyes, but you also saw a lot of care and a hint of gentleness as he brought his fingers to your face and lightly felt the bags under your eyes. His scowl turned more into a grimace that hid his worry; it was clear that you got no sleep at all last night.

However, the low growl made you a little scared, “All of you beat it. Now!” He quickly demanded the rest of his classmates to leave the two of you alone, and of course Izuku was the first to obey, followed by Kirishima, and the others didn’t really want to pick a fight with him, so they just calmly left. Although, the cheekier ones like Uraraka and Shinsou were more than aware that it was to share a moment as Uraraka stifled her grin before she walked beside Tsuyu.

That surprised you, and you were almost worried that he was going to scold you in private. And he kind of was… “Are you gonna knock me out so I can go to sleep?” You asked, since he had often suggested that and you always turned that down since Bakugou never pulled his punches. Not even on you.

“Tch…” He scoffed though, despite those suggestions, he would never actually do that to you, except in sparring. “No… you can’t sleep… but after seeing that movie, now you really can’t sleep… and now you’re going to start seeing shit that’s not really there…” Bakugou muttered, he sounded extremely annoyed, but it’s because he’s seen this from you before… especially when the two of you were little.

Hell he remembered a time when you, him and Deku were like 7 or 8 and had a sleepover at his house, and had convinced (forced) you both to watch ‘The Ring’ and of course you and Deku were the only ones freaked out by it and screaming each time something even remotely scary showed up on screen. And even if some of the creepier scenes did kinda scare Bakugou a little bit, he never showed it or ever let you both know it.

8 YEARS AGO

‘L-Let’s sleep with the lights on tonight you guys…’ You mumbled in terror and turned the lights on in Bakugou’s room, glad to see that Izuku was vigorously nodding in agreement, “Uh-huh! That’s a good idea… I-I don’t mind having the lights on…” You and Izuku were on board because you were both scared out your wits after seeing that scary movie, but Bakugou wasn’t having it.

“No way! Forget it! I can’t sleep if the stupid lights are on!” He pushed you aside (somewhat gently) and turned the lights off, and you instantly shrieked and ran over to an equally terrified Izuku and the two of you jumped under the latter’s All-Might covers and you turned on your flashlight to light up the darkness. “W-We’ll be safe if we keep my flashlight on Izuku…” You said somewhat confidently to your friend, “ O-Okay (Y-Y-Y/N)-chan… A-And maybe… if S-Samara… s-sees All-Might on my blanket… s-she’ll go away…” Izuku clung to that belief in hopes that his blanket will protect you and him from any terrifying ghosts or monsters that were hiding in the dark.

“Yeah! All-Might can scare any monster! It’ll work!” You felt almost safe at that thought, and you and Izuku shared a shaky but certain smile, “O-Okay! M-My blanket will protect us!” Izuku clearly got more scared than you did when it came to horror movies, but it didn’t stop him from trying to look brave in front of you.

However, Kacchan was much braver, and much less tolerant of the way you were both acting as he yanked the blanket off you two, “AH!” You gasped and held your flashlight to your chest and trembled while Izuku yelped and fearfully clung to you as you put your arms around him to comfort him.

“You two are such babies! A stupid blanket won’t protect you!” He chastised you both and would have insulted Deku for being such a coward, but he didn’t want to hear you rant to him (again) about being ‘mean’ to him. It was so annoying seeing you both whimper and hug each other like the little babies you were…

Bakugou knew he was braver than both of you and he was so proud of that, and you and Deku being such scaredy-cats only fueled his ever-growing ego. “Tch… if there was a ghost girl, I’d kill her right on the spot!” He claimed with a smirk, even holding his fists out to emphasize that he wasn’t afraid of anything and believed that too.

Even if you were still kind of scared, you and Izuku couldn’t help but smile. As long as Kacchan was with you and Izuku, there was very little to fear. “Kacchan ain’t ‘fraid of no ghost!” You giggled and pointed out, since you had seen Ghostbusters and despite his annoyance with your reference, he still smirked. “DUH! No stupid ghost scares me. I’m stronger than any ghost!” He had to pat himself on the back more, which you and Izuku didn’t get tired of hearing.

“Wow… Kacchan is so brave… I think we’ll be just fine as long as he’s here.” Izuku said smiling, and even though Bakugou was beginning to like the little nerd less and less, he didn’t hate the compliments. “YEAH!” You agreed with your friend as you jumped into Bakugou’s bed.

“Hey! What are you doing Shitty Girl?! That’s MY bed!” He asked you somewhat angrily, ignoring the way you and Izuku gasped at his language that was slowly getting worse with each passing week.

“You said a bad word!” You pointed out and giggled, “I don’t give a shit! Get off my bed!”

“But I’m still scared…!” Bakugou might have been a meanie at times, but everytime you gave him your puppy-dog eyes he did what you wanted. Most of the time. “That ghost was so scary… and ugly! I can’t stop thinking about it… and it’s dark… but if I sleep in your bed with you, I don’t think she’ll get me…” You argued, your child mind having convinced you that Samara was out there to snatch up and kill any unsuspecting victim, but Bakugou was brave and strong. He would protect you, you believed he would.

It annoyed him as Bakugou hated how his face started getting hot when he saw you giving him those stupid puppy eyes again. But he liked you, a lot more than Deku that was for sure. And strong heroes always scared off the villains and protected the girl. At first, he didn’t really care about that, but then he met you and that changed his priorities a bit.

He growled, not exactly enjoying the thought of sharing his bed since he hated sharing in general, but he wouldn’t say ‘no’ to you. Tonight.

“Fine! But you’d better go to bed! I can’t stay up late! I have to get enough sleep so I can get stronger!” He exclaimed and reluctantly let you sleep in his bed as he got in and you couldn’t help but grin, “YAY!” You threw your hands up and happily lied down next to him, oblivious to how red Bakugou’s face was turning.

But already you felt a lot safer as you hugged your friend’s arm as he hid his face away from you. “(Y-Y/N) you’re such a scardey-cat…” He grumbled, his tone sounding shyer and he hated it. He didn’t hate you like he was starting to hate Deku, but he hated how you made him feel all mushy and icky in his chest.

“I like cats…” You mumbled sleepily, not having a problem being called that as you perked up when a nervous Izuku crawled into bed right behind you, still keeping his All-Might blanket with him, “I’m too scared to sleep by myself tonight! Can I please sleep with you both?” The poor thing was practically begging you and Bakugou and even hugged you out of terror, which you didn’t mind at all as you giggled and patted him on the head. “Deku! Get the hell of my bed! Who said you could get on?!” Bakugou would have blasted this little crybaby off, but he didn’t want to wake his mother, and you weren’t going to let him.

“Kacchan… don’t be so mean to Izuku… let him sleep with us. Just tonight… please?” There you go again, defending the weakling. As much as Bakugou wanted to kick Deku off his bed and maybe smack him for even daring to get near his things, he was honestly feeling too tired to fight and hated arguing with you whenever it came to the little nerd. “Just tonight… and you’d better not say a word of this to anyone Deku, or I’ll kill you…” He grumbled a little threat as he closed his eyes.

“I won’t Kacchan…” Izuku was already falling asleep as he cuddled up to you, but he kept that promise as he felt a lot safer with you and Bakugou. And you couldn’t help but giggle and smile as you began to close your eyes and drift off to sleep, “Thanks Kacchan…” You mumbled a sleepy thanks to your friend, ignoring the annoyed little noise he made once he started going to sleep.

That night you weren’t scared to go to bed, because you were so close to Bakugou and no ghost girl came to take you. Bakugou always made sure you were safe, and because of him you didn’t have any nightmares and you were able to finally get some sleep that night.

PRESENT TIME

“I told you to go to bed…” Bakugou repeated what he had said with a sigh of annoyance and you swallowed your pride to allow yourself to appear ashamed and averted his eyes. Or at least you tried to as he cupped your face, just to look at those bags under your eyes once more, which made you blush in embarrassment as you became a little more self-conscious about it now. “I’m sorry…” You mumbled.

You should have listened to him, and you knew it. Yet you couldn’t help yourself, even though you really did try. But before you could do anymore apologizing, Bakugou scoffed, as if he was hating what he was going to do, even though you knew he never hated doing anything that included you despite what he claimed.

“You’re sleeping in my bed tonight. End of story. You’re gonna get some damn sleep, so you’d better not complain.” He decided, since he knew that you wouldn’t be able to sleep by yourself after that movie, and you NEEDED sleep. Of course, Bakugou was smart enough to know that this wouldn’t instantly cure your insomnia, but this would be a stepping stone for you and give you some much-needed sleep. And whether you liked it or not, he was going to help you with your insomnia and ensure that you get more sleep.

Naturally, you didn’t expect that as your tired eyes widened at the thought as your cheeks started to darken and a grin sported across your face. As much as you despised going to sleep early, you knew you needed it, and on top of that you’d be sleeping with your Katsuki! There was little to complain about that.

“Hee~. I ain’t gonna!” You chirped, sounding much more energetic despite the fatigue in your body as you hugged your angry boyfriend’s arm. “Good…” Despite how annoyed he looked and sounded, he didn’t push you away even when you were both leaving the kitchen to go and get to class. However, you had enough consideration to let him go once your friends were all in sight, because you knew how much Bakugou disliked PDA. At least unless, he was the one initiating it to let the other guys back off, or if he felt particularly show-offy.

As you walked though, Shinsou didn’t let Bakugou’s scowl stop him from walking beside you to ask you something. “So, what was the name of that movie you saw last night?” He asked you curiously, knowing your bad habits as you perked up a bit with a nervous look.

“Hitoshi… you don’t get enough sleep as is… if you watch this movie you are NEVER going to sleep again…” You felt like you were exaggerating a little bit, but you didn’t want Shinsou to suffer like you were right now as you gave him a crazy, wide-eyed look that he found too hilarious to take seriously. “Exactly. I’m not going to be bothered either way.” He claimed, even though you were still worried.

“Okay… it’s called The Descent… but it’s like legit scary in more than one way…” You didn’t want to turn him off a genuinely good movie, but you weren’t lying about the scariness in The Descent.

“So is Bakugou, and yet it doesn’t stop me from approaching him.” He snarked in reply, and you NEARLY laughed but you couldn’t because you had to act quick and hold back a VERY angry Bakugou once he heard that remark. “WHAT THE HELL IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN YOU FUCKING FREAK?!” You whined as you tried to hold back your explosive boyfriend, who was somehow only at a 9, and you didn’t want to see him go to 12.

“Don’t do it Katsuki! He didn’t mean it he was just playing!” It took all your minimal strength to hold back Bakugou as you begged for Shinsou’s life on his behalf…

You were in for a long day, and night…

LATER THAT NIGHT

Like a zombie, you slowly walked into the hallway in your pajamas and as reluctant as you were, it was time to go bed. Well… Katsuki’s time to go to bed, which was like 9:30pm, a whole 4-5 hour difference from your ‘bed-time’. But you were sleeping with him tonight, so you couldn’t complain, and your body needed it anyway.

And he followed you close behind, putting his hand on your back as his own gentle way of leading you, of course he knew that you knew where his room was, but he was honestly worried that you would pass out. Given how many times you dozed off and fell asleep in class today.

You nearly fell on his bed as soon as you got into his room, and yet you weren’t prepared to go to sleep yet. Your insomnia wouldn’t let you pass out yet, “I was tired… and now… I’m wide awake.” You muttered a little bit, hating how your body had adjusted to your subpar sleeping habits and how it kept you awake even when you were physically exhausted. And despite the way he scoffed, Bakugou understood, even if he wasn’t always gentle.

“Well if you don’t fall asleep, then I’ll just knock you out or something.” He claimed, even though you knew that wasn’t going to happen, but he would find a (surprisingly) non-violent way to lull you to sleep somehow.

You wryly chuckled as you got under his covers and awaited him. However, your half-lidded eyes widened as soon as you saw him take off his clothes til he was only clad in his black tank-top and he changed into his baggy pajama pants. You might have been exhausted, but certainly not enough to watch him undress. “Pervert.” He smirked a little bit, obviously having caught you ogling him as you blushed furiously and averted your eyes, even as he got into his bed right beside you.

As soon as you felt his warm body, the first thing you did was cuddle up to him and hug his arm, burying your face into his shoulder as he tensed ever so slightly. Although you were both together, every now and then Bakugou still found himself a little bit flustered whenever you touched him. “Katsuki… there’s nothing in your closet right…?” It sounded so childish, but you had to ask.

“Nothing other than clothes, moron.” He rolled his eyes at how scared you were, but he wouldn’t be too mean, at least, as much as he could help it. By then now though, you had learned to not take his harshness so seriously as you chuckled a little bit, “I should have watched that movie with you… it totally freaked me out… no horror movie scares you…” You said almost sleepily as you felt your eyes starting to droop.

Bakugou sighed, almost feeling bad for being his usual abrasive self when you were clearly scared and having trouble sleeping on top of all of it. “Just don’t watch a damn horror movie when it’s 1 in the morning… otherwise you wouldn’t be here, besides, there’s no such thing as monsters… closest thing we have to a monster is that little grape shit…”

“Yeeeeah… he’s a little monster that’s easy to crush… but when you think about it… I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t watch that movie… next to you… in your bed… I like it…” You smiled, unable to keep your eyes closed which Bakugou was thankful for because of how red his face was getting. Dammit, that was true, and he liked being this close to you too. Maybe he would have to start bringing you to his bed every now and then, for your health, and for closeness. “Don’t say such mushy crap like that…” He nearly stuttered and hated how hot his face felt now.

Even though you were starting to get drowsier, you still giggled a little bit, “Mmm… Katsuki… I love you… thanks for this... you’re the best…” As you closed your eyes, you cuddled up to him and even though you couldn’t see it, you knew that he was blushing warmly and barely suppressing a smile.

“Yeah, yeah…” He muttered quietly, “I love you too idiot…” You kept yourself awake long enough just to hear him say that before you slowly drifted off to sleep now that your boyfriend’s warm body protecting you had calmed you down enough to let your dreams take you to their land.

Finally sleep slowly came, but the darkness followed you shortly and you could hear the screeches of those godawful things. For a moment you were ready to scream as you shut your eyes, but as soon as you opened them there was only light and you were back at UA, and a familiar hand holding yours. Relief flooded your anxious heart when you saw your Katsuki in your dreams.

He really did always protect you, in the real world, and in the dream world.

BONUS ENDING…

When morning came and prompted you and Bakugou to get up and get ready for the day, you were amazed at how more awake you felt. Well, you were still tired, as it would take more than one night of enough sleep to develop better sleeping habits and help your insomnia. But the point was, is that you felt better now that you had gotten enough rest to function a lot better today.

“Mmm… damn Katsuki… you were right. I feel a lot more awake now…” You mumbled somewhat tiredly despite what you claimed, but Bakugou knew that you got the right amount of sleep to at least go about with the day.

“Of course I was right. Since when have I been wrong?” He said somewhat proudly, and you smiled and shook your head a little bit.

“Uh… (Y/N)-chan…?” Izuku had shyly walked to you, as you stretched your arms out with a yawn, “Hm? Izuku? Morning~.” You smiled sleepily at your friend, as he nervously smiled and waved, “G-Good morning… um… t-there’s something you need to see…” He made sure to be polite, but afterwards he quickly told you that you were needed, much to Bakugou’s annoyance and your concern.

“Huh?” You put your shoes on as you followed your friend as he was leading you to the kitchen? It was definitely the kitchen and your eyes widened once you saw what Izuku was talking about.

“Oh no…”

“Hello Light.”

There Shinsou was, ‘greeting’ the little light in the refrigerator as he closed it, and opened it again, “Hello Light.” He somehow looked even more tired than normal as his eyes were wide and the bags under his eyes were darker, as if someone used his own quirk on him. While you were extremely concerned, Bakugou was extremely annoyed, and kind of amused.

“I told him not to watch it alone in the dead of night…” You shook your head, but Bakugou scoffed, “You can’t talk shit… that’s exactly what you did last night dumbass...” He pointed out your hypocrisy as you stuck your tongue at him. “Exactly! Cuz I’m dumb Katsuki! And I learned my lesson…” You muttered with a small blush on your cheeks as you made your way over to Shinsou, gently pulling him away from the refrigerator door.

“Hitoshi… no more saying hello to the little light.” You said softly, trying to snap your friend out of his daze and literally snapped his fingers to see if he was even aware that you were there. And he blinked a little bit until he finally recognized you standing right in front of him with a worried look. “I warned you dude…”

He sighed heavily, “I am never going to sleep again…” Shinsou mumbled with a hint of shame in his low voice as he walked with you to pour a full cup of coffee in the largest cup he could find. He’s seen his share of generic scary movies, but that one wasn’t one of them. As much as you wanted to say ‘I told you so’, that didn’t feel like the best thing to say.

“Well you have to get some sleep… I learned that the hard way… Mr. Aizawa needs you to be awake enough to train… and you can’t tell him that a horror movie kept you awake, trust me… you don’t wanna hear what he has to say about that…” You muttered nervously, since you already got the scolding from him yesterday after falling asleep repeatedly in class yesterday. The man sympathized with you, but you knew Shinsou wouldn’t want to hear the same scolding.

He shook his head; he really didn’t want to hear that scolding at all, his mentor was relentless in training. A good teacher, but relentless. “How about I knock HIM out? That’ll put him to sleep.” This time Bakugou meant that. He never really liked Shinsou, so he wouldn’t mind knocking him out.

But you weren’t going to let that happen, “No! No, no… Hitoshi don’t deserve that…” You quickly told your boyfriend ‘no’, much to Shinsou’s relief. He wasn’t THAT desperate for sleep yet, but he was exhausted. More so than usual, he probably shouldn’t have watched that movie at 2 in the morning. That was his least intelligent move yet, but in his defense, he didn’t think the movie you saw would be that legitimately terrifying.

“Oh! I slept with Katsuki, worked like a charm for me! How about you try that?” You cheerfully suggested, but the two boys despised each other and were NOT up for it. They could barely stand to be in the same room with each other, let alone next to each other.

“No!” They both shouted in unison, and you held your hands up in defense with a nervous giggle.

“Okay, okay, how about we ALL sleep in the same bed huh? The more the merrier, and it’s a lot safer since there’s power in three people with quirks!” Then came your second suggestion, and only Bakugou shouted ‘no’ because there was no way he was going to let this freak step foot in his room. But Shinsou didn’t say ‘no’ to that, because as much as he hated Bakugou, he didn’t hate you at all.

“That’s not a completely horrible idea.” He almost smirked, especially when he saw Bakugou looking near ready to blow up while you were just smiling and clapping your hands. “Yeah! Let’s do it tonight!” You shook your fists happily, ignoring just how PISSED your boyfriend looked.

“Dammit, NO!” He shouted again, his palms crackling as he glared at the smug-looking purple-haired teen who stood behind you for safety.

Bakugou almost wished that movie was real, just so he could feed this brainwashing bastard to those cave monsters and take you out of the cave to safety. But at least he could dream about that tonight, while you would just dream about Katsuki, and Shinsou would dream about you, and kittens.

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spinningsidetable · 5 years

Text

Gentleman 2/3

Pairing: Octavian/Leo Valdez (leotavian)

Warning/Genre: Genre/Warning: AU, No Godly Parents, Spy Shit, Action Movie Parody, Non-Linear Story Telling, Admittedly Unhealthy Relationship, Descriptions of Violence, Dubious Consent Smooching, Sexual Situations,“Humor”

Rating: Mature

Summary: Leo has worked for the Agency for awhile now, the guy in the chair helping Agents save the world and all that, but now it seems like an actual supervillain is enamored with him.

(Notes: Sexual situations in this chapter, which will probably get the story flagged by tumblr. or maybe it won’t care, and just continue to mark pictures of my geckos as porn.)

Leo blearily opened his eyes and found himself in a familiar room. White plaster walls, deep red accents, and ancient looking columns on the veranda overlooking a lush garden. It would put the hanging gardens of Babylon to shame, or so Octavian had told Leo once. Leo didn’t know anything about plants, or the outdoors, or what it had to do with that show Babylon 5. But, it was really pretty. The whole base had a classic feel to it, like you’d been removed out of time, or if you had been transported into a bad series on the unfortunately named History Channel. Octavian had a weird thing for age-old Roman things, like conquest and domination. It was partly why no one was entirely sure if his name was Octavian from birth or not. It could have just been a complicated reference to Caesar Augustus, founder of Rome. The current theories about Octavian’s motives were world domination, or at least the creation of a new military state, a New Rome, but it hadn’t ever been confirmed. No one had much on him to go off, no known history, no paper trails, nothing. Just a love of gladiator movies, very presumably BDSM, and apparently Babylon 5. “Ugh,” Leo groaned, turning to grab the aspirin and glass of water he knew would be on the side table. “I should just move some shit in, spare clothes, maybe a toothbrush. I seem to be here often enough…” “I agree, mi amor.” Octavian said, reading from a book at the foot of the bed. Leo also knew he’d be there. “In fact, I believe we should get married. We’ve been dating for quite some time, now. What kind of ring do you want? I have access to an asteroid.” “I’m sorry to break this to you, but we’re actually not dating at all. Not even a little bit. Also, I can’t physically give you any heirs.” Leo sighed, running a hand through his hair. It wasn’t as messy as it usually was, but Octavian usually brushed it while Leo was out for the count. Leo’d never admit Octavian speaking specifically Spanish did things to him. “That’s something crazy dictators want, right? Bunch of heirs?” “Mm, ignoring adoption or surrogates, all we’d just need a host uterus, artificial or otherwise. My people have developed a way to combine the DNA of two men or two women within an artificial egg.” Octavian turned the page, like he wasn’t a supervillain bent on world domination (presumably) “Granted, I don’t particularly care about any heirs. It is possible though.” “Wait,” Leo held up a hand, realization dawning on him. “…Did Larry and Mark finally have kids?” “Mhmm,” Octavian closed the book, looking up at Leo with a pleasant (non-manic) smile on his face. “They’re trying.” “Oh my god, I’m so happy for them!” Leo’d really gotten to know a few of his guards by now. “I’m still not marrying you though, you just blew a hole in an aircraft carrier. That being said, I do also want access to an asteroid, would I get half of it if we got married?” Octavian shrugged a shoulder, never concerned. “I have a sneaking suspicion the military industrial complex will recover, for now. However, I am glad to hear you’ve changed your mind about my so-called manipulation via…how did you put it, sweet talk? I’m glad to hear you think it’s sweet.” Leo faltered, pushing the blankets off and getting out of bed. Silk pajamas, always the best. “That’s…” Leo had forgotten about that. That was right. He remembered the looks on Reyna’s face, on Piper’s and Jason’s. “…If I agreed to marry you, but I promised to never tell you a single secret about the Agency, about Jason, or about anything that could in anyway help you with any of your plans…you’re telling me you’d…be okay with that?” “Oh, mo ghaol, I’ve never assumed you’d tell me anything. Have I ever asked? Threatened you? Hurt you in any way?” Octavian stood, and came to Leo’s side. He raised a hand to Leo’s face, fingers resting causally at Leo’s neck and thumb rubbing small circles into his cheek. “I adore you.” “Why, though?” Leo looked at the floor, away from Octavian’s face. “I’m just…” “Brilliant, smart, handsome, clever, funny, beautiful, talented…” Octavian finished for him, tone slightly chastising, but in a fond way. “Yes, I have no idea.” “I’m 5’2, I’m a tooth pick, I’ve got like a mole on my forehead I keep covered with hair because I’m a little scared it might be an absorbed twin, because it’s got like this massive whisker in it I pluck secretly. And then I say things like that when I’m nervous…” Octavian laughed, shaking his head. “Your size is convenient, cute even; you still have a good deal of upper body strength, your muscles are toned even if you’re slim. And, you have a beauty mark. You’re interesting, and funny. It’s not like I’m particularly muscular either. I think you called me a murderous scarecrow for half a year.” Leo groaned and flopped back down onto the bed, “I still have braces, Octavian!” “It’s respectable that you care about oral hygiene,” Octavian responded with a shrug, kneeling down to the ground between Leo’s legs. He looked like a knight, bowing before his king. “I understand why the Agency may think I have ulterior motives; admittedly, you would be a great target. But, like I said, I truly adore you solnyshka. In time, you’ll accept that, because I believe you already know deep down that I’m telling the truth.” The Brazilian government had apparently covered up the fact that they had recently discovered a massive underground temple. It was a lost holy place for numerous native Brazilian tribes, but the current regime didn’t want to award any more protection of land over to the native peoples. Why? Because of course they didn’t. That would mean they couldn’t strip it for resources, who cared about history, preservation, or other cultures in the face of cold hard cash? The Agency was tasked with keeping peace, and with further private exploration of the temple before the government got to work. The entire place was still majorly unknown, the exact size and scale was a mystery. No one was entirely sure who built it even. Leo and another tech Rachel, were the grunts that were sent down into the terrifying and dark abyss with just flashlights and backpacks. They’d spent a week developing an advanced mapping system, that could create a 3D rendering of any hidden passages and tunnels. But, they had to place a few probes in the temple first at strategic points for it to work, which meant having to be there in person first. Two Agents accompanied them, Agent di Angelo and Agent Levesque. They were apparently the only ones willing to go spelunking with the tech-y desk jockeys. Leo would have preferred Jason, but he knew the guy was terrified of enclosed spaces underground. These two didn’t seem to be bothered by it in the slightest. The two Agents hadn’t talked much at first, but eventually Levesque and Rachel got on like wildfire. Di Angelo wasn’t so friendly, and when it came time to split up, Leo was disappointed he got stuck with the angry emo Agent baby, instead of the stupidly hot spy lady. Agent di Angelo only got angrier for some reason when Leo said as much. They had been walking throughout the tunnels in the cavernous temple for about an hour, when Leo and his babysitter came across an old rope bridge to the other side of the cave system they were in. It was too big to jump across, but Leo needed to get to the other side to place a probe. “Hey, too spooky?” Leo grinned, turning to the Agent who grimaced at said nickname. “Have you ever heard why the lion crossed the bridge?” “What are you talking about- Hey!” Leo was already darting across the bridge, backwards, big hefty backpack and all. He could feel it creaking and cracking under his feet, but Leo made it safely. “To get to the other side! Get it?” Leo called over, cupping his hands around his mouth. Agent di Angelo flipped him off. “That’s not very professional! Come on! It’s totally safe!” The rope bridge promptly snapped and collapsed into the nothingness below. “I rescind that! Don’t do it!” Agent Angel whipped out a comm and seemed to be having a very tense conversation with someone on the other line as he paced back and forth, his light moving around the room. “Hey, it’s fine, buddy!” Leo yelled. “I’ll just go plant the other probe, while you get like a ladder or something! Not like anything else is down here! You know, besides snakes, and spiders, and scorpions and other totally natural things that could kill me!” An hour or two later and Leo was increasingly worried there really was nothing down here. The temple seemed to be built into an existing cave system, which could theoretically be hundreds of miles long. It was just endless amounts of rock and water dripping and bats and bugs. Leo was getting tired, and hungry, so when he heard voices and the reflections of light in the distance, he couldn’t help himself. He bolted towards the commotion, waving his flashlight. “HEY! I’m so glad you-“ Leo found himself in a large cave opening, surrounded by men and women in black attire, now all pointing guns at his face. Octavian stood in the middle, eyebrow raised, and a manic smile beginning to overtake his expression. “Oh boy. I am lost. I am but a poor lost…Brazilian person. I got a bit turned around back there, I’ll just…turn around and go the other way.” “Don’t shoot,” Octavian waved a hand. “I know this little vagalume.” As Octavian walked forward towards sweaty, filthy, gross covered Leo, and the crowds parted around Octavian like he was some kind of God. Supervillains sure knew how to make an impact. “My, my, why are you here, meu querido?” Octavian’s smile was dangerous, and the flashlight casting shadows just accentuated the madness. “The Agency must know something, if they’re willing to send you in.” “I, uh,” Leo was flustered, his sweat sticking his hair to his forehead. “…Searched my soul? And found you!” Octavian laughed, coming close enough to rest his hand on Leo’s cheek. “Well, you weren’t what we were looking for, but I can’t say I’m displeased.” He turned to the men closest to him, “leve-o de volta ao acampamento.” Leo yelped as he was grabbed and thrown over a shoulder. “What the fuck did you just say?! Octavian! Hey! Why are we in the one South American country I can’t speak the language of! Oi, hablar español por favor-” “I hate you, I hate you so much, oh my god.” Leo gasped, moving up and down, his hands clenched into the headboard behind Octavian’s stupid face. Leo was sweating so much, it was disgusting. Had he sweat this much the first time he had had sex? No, Leo was pretty sure he had gotten in the girl, whimpered, and collapsed to the side pretty much immediately. “Do you want to stop?” Octavian grinned up at him knowingly, his own hands on Leo’s lower hips stopped encouraging him. Leo’s thighs were burning, his abdominal muscles were tensed almost the entire time. He needed Octavian’s help to keep going, to keep moving. Leo was already shaky after extended foreplay, he had already spent holding himself up on his arms and knees as the villain decided to take his time and use his tongue. “I will actually kill you if you stop,” one of Leo’s hands left the headboard to dig into Octavian’s scalp and pull him forward for a messy kiss. The angle shifted Leo away from riding the cock inside him, to just rocking back and forth in a needy manner. He needed more momentum, the pressure was good, it was so good, but he needed more. It didn’t help that Octavian had a hand around his cock, with just enough pressure at the base of the shaft that Leo couldn’t find the release he was looking for. He wasn't stroking it, he wasn't doing anything that Leo needed. He was being an actual cocktease. “I will remove your windpipe I swear to god, I refuse to be a pump and dump,” Leo pulled away, nipping just slightly at Octavian’s lower lip. “Octavian, come on, estoy loco por ti, te necesito. Please?” Octavian’s eyes were normally very light blue, but right now Octavian’s pupils were blown wide and black. He flipped Leo over onto his back. “Anything for you, the entire world for you.” Maybe he was easy, Leo thought, sprawled out in bed that night. 16 kidnappings were all it took for him to go full Stockholm Syndrome. Octavian was asleep next to him, completely defenseless, if you didn’t count the armed guards outside and the whole island fortress thing. “Poor thing, wore himself out”, Leo whispered as he reached over and pushed a few pieces of hair away from the man’s forehead. Granted, Leo had fully passed the fuck out after their romp as well, he just woke up sooner. The benefits of horrific insomnia, not even 3 orgasms could keep him asleep for long. “Oh my god, I slept with a supervillain,” Leo flopped back down onto his pillow. The thread count on these sheets was ridiculous. “Repeatedly.” “Mm, was I at least a gentlemen?” Octavian’s voice was somewhat rough from sleep, and probably from the blowjob, but he was awake enough to throw and arm around Leo’s side and pull him close. “Very much so,” Leo whispered back, shoving his face into Octavian’s neck. “Maybe…I can be the…uh, gentleman next time?” Octavian had a great dick, just perfect. Hit all the spots. Looked good, felt fucking fantastic. But, he also was pretty in his own way, and had a nice ass. Leo wanted in it. “Whatever you wish, mi amor. I look forward to it.” Octavian pulled Leo in closely, kissing his forehead. He really was a gentleman. Octavian then swung a leg over Leo, and straddled his waist. “Wait, right now?” “We are going to fucking die!” Leo screamed at the scarecrow on stilts. “I refuse to die because a piece of anthropomorphized spaghetti with a God complex kidnapped me!” Octavian looked mildly annoyed at the insult, or maybe just the fact Leo had been yelling nonstop for about five minutes. Octavian rarely looked particularly bothered by anything Leo did or said, so he must have been fairly stressed out. “We’re not going to die from this,” Octavian glanced at his passenger, who hadn’t put down a small metal lighter. “We might die if you burn up all our oxygen, however.” Leo’s eyes narrowed, and he flicked the lighter shut. “Don’t talk to me like I’m stupid, Julius Caesar. Your navigation system is shot, your craft is taking on water, and the control panel is fucking glitching halfway to Siberia. You did this, this is your fault. I’m smaller than you, when we inevitably die horrifically here, I want to at least survive long enough to see you die first. You’ll need oxygen before I do.” “No,” Octavian corrected, clenching his jaw. “Your Agency did this by sabotaging my submersible, knowing fully well you were aboard. So much for loyalty.” Leo rolled his eyes, and threw his legs up on the console, as they were starting to get soggy. “No, they didn’t. I’m too valuable. They’d still be stuck with tech from the 50’s if it wasn’t for my ass. Say, how painful would it be to get eaten by sharks?” “Probably very,” Octavian grabbed one of Leo’s feet and tossed it off the machinery. “You know very little about the organization you work for, apparently. They track all assets.” “Uh, yeah, no shit. I removed that crap forever ago.” Leo gestured at a small scar on his arm. “So, again, back to being your fault. You, alone, used a submersible to kidnap me. In my fucking pajamas!” They were classic teenage mutant ninja turtles, Leo had told Octavian. “I thought it would be…” The madman, for once, appeared to be struggling to find the words. “Romantic. Moonlit dinner, with nothing but the ocean around us.” Leo looked in the back of the compartment, at the nearly cliché picnic box and bottle of wine. There were even fucking roses. “Goddammit. Move, you asshat.” Leo got out of his seat, and pushed Octavian to the edge of his own, sitting beside him. Octavian looked at him curiously, but Leo was already starting to fiddle with the console controls. It didn’t look like much was happening. “If we are to die here, then I can’t say I mind the company,” Octavian admitted, only to get flipped off. “…Leonardo was always my favorite ninja turtle.” Leo sat up sharply, looking directly at the man. “Where the fuck are you from?! I swear to Christ, how do you speak 500 languages, yet know TMNT? Ain’t no one in American public school systems do word good.” “Maybe I was raised by a giant rat in the New York city sewers?” Octavian offered, with a smirk. “Who knows. You know, I know some about your past. You were doing extremely advanced mathematics in elementary school. You make fun of my education, but you’re obviously brilliant yourself, in fields and ways much more advanced than I.” “I hate you, leave me alone, I’m working.” Leo’s face was slightly red as he grumbled but turned back to the display. “…I expect more than a picnic when I save your pasty white butt.” “Of course, mój drogi.” The water had gotten uncomfortably close to the electrical equipment, but it had only taken Leo a few minutes before the submersible was back in some amount of working order. It would still sink, it was taking on far too much water with no way of repairing physical damage like that, but at least now they could deploy the emergency raft. Within five minutes, they were sitting in a black and red raft. It wasn’t small or flimsy, thankfully. Leo had enough room to fully stretch out on the blanket that had been in the picnic basket. Octavian had made a call to his men, it was likely they’d be there within the hour, but for the time… Octavian laid down beside the shorter man, staring up at the stars. “I guess it is kind of romantic. Maybe not the impending threat of death so much, but it is pretty out here. There’s not as much pollution out here…the stars are really bright.” Leo pointed at a few, “do you know any constellations?” Octavian did, so instead of answering, sat up on his elbow and leaned over to kiss the mechanic. Leo jerked backwards, eyes wide. “What the hell, did you just kiss me?” Octavian kissed him again, before pulling back and looking mighty pleased with himself. “I hate you, that’s such a breach of my personal space, it is completely uncalled for.” Leo ranted before he was grabbing the back of Octavian’s head and pulling him in for another.

#fanfiction #mypjofanfiction #pjo fanfic #pjo Octavian #hoo octavian #octavian #Leo Valdez #leotavian

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necrowriter · 5 years

Text

fictober: worse

“At least it can't get any worse.”

“Why would you say that,” I demanded. “Have you not a shred either of decency nor sense?”

“Sorry, sorry. Just slipped out there.” Warren, our guide, shook his head. “But—well--surely we've, ahem, ah, hit rock bottom, here, so to speak.”

“Boo,” Harris said flatly.

“I just mean, it's difficult to see how things could be worse.”

“Well,” I said, “to take a line from the late great Marty Feldman--could be raining.”

“We're underground, though?”

“Doesn't mean water can't get in here,” Harris said. “Could start flooding. We'd either drown or be crushed against the ceiling.”

“That's gloriously pessimistic of you,” I said approvingly.

“Thank you, I try.”

“I don't think these caves flood,” Warren said, but he didn't sound all that sure. “Not—not that quickly, anyway.”

Harris and I shared a glance. Neither of us actually said, “you got us this lost, what do you know?” but it was definitely in the air.

“Look, I'm sure we'll—we'll find our way out soon,” Warren said desperately. “There has to be an exit here somewhere.”

“There does not,” I said. “We could be wandering towards a dead end. Archaeologists will find our skeletons and laugh at us.”

“Oh come on.”

“Don't mind Steven, he always assumes death is looming near on the horizon,” Harris said. “Mind you, this time I'm starting to agree with him.”

“If we're gone too long, someone will come looking for us,” Warren said firmly. “We're not going to die down here.”

I looked gloomily around the cave walls. The light from Warren's flashlight seemed pitiful and ridiculous in the face of the deep, endless dark lurking heavily all around us. There's no dark quite like the dark beneath the earth. It'll eat you up and digest your bones.

“Look on the bright side,” Warren said after a while. “We've discovered a whole new system down here. Maybe they'll name it after us!”

I snorted. “We didn't discover anything. This has been discovered.”

“I've never heard of it--”

“Not by humans. There are other things living down here.”

Warren glanced back at me nervously. “You, you mean like fish and insects, right? I don't think that counts--”

“No,” I said. “Bigger things than that.”

“We're not in dragon territory, are we?” Harris said quietly. “That could be real bad.”

“Nah, I don't think so. Dragons don't let people aimlessly trespass through their territory for over an hour. We'd have been apprehended a long time ago. Anyway, there's no black dragons with jurisdiction in Arizona. I don't think.”

“You're kidding, right?” Warren said. “Dragons?”

“Do I sound like I'm kidding?”

“You believe in cursed artifacts,” Harris said. “Why not dragons?”

“I don't believe in cursed artifacts,” he said. “Sure, there are legends about the Wheel, but I never believed them.”

“Even after removing it caused a cave-in that got us trapped down here, maybe forever?”

“That was unfortunate, but that doesn't mean removing the Wheel was what caused it to happen. And I'm sure we're not trapped down here forever.”

“That is what caused it to happen, isn't it?” Harris asked me.

“Absolutely,” I said. “That thing is super cursed.”

“You guys are crazy,” Warren said. “I thought you were part of some, some artifact retrieval team.”

“Sure we are,” Harris said. “We retrieve cursed artifacts. Well, usually I do. I just brought Steven along this time to get the lowdown on that curse before I tried removing the thing.”

“This is why I don't go on these expeditions with you,” I grumbled. “Things like this happen.”

“Not always.”

“It's not cursed! It's just a stupid old wheel with a lot of superstition about it, because people like to assign blame for random events to something concrete--”

“Shh. Don't anger the wheel,” Harris said.

“To be fair, that is what most 'cursed' artifacts are,” I said. “Just not this one. Bad luck.”

“If you're so sure it's not cursed, why bother selling it?” Harris asked.

“I didn't sell it. Mr. Morris did. He thought it was responsible for business being bad.”

“Pretty sure Mr. Morris is responsible for business being bad,” Harris said. “No offense, mate, but you do not have a well-run tourist cave going there. And ecologically, it's a disaster. Might be legally, too.”

“Look--”

I stopped and held up a hand. “Everyone, shut up a minute.”

Harris and Warren stopped and looked at me in surprise. “What?” Harris whispered.

“Something's coming. You don't hear that?”

We stood in silence for a moment, with nothing but our own breathing to break the deep stillness. Nothing but our breathing and, ever so faintly, a soft skritch skritch in the distance.

“What's that?” Warren whispered.

“Not sure, but it's coming this way.” I closed my eyes and concentrated. I could feel it now, a presence coming towards us. And not aimlessly, oh no—it knew we were here.

“Uh,” Harris said. I opened my eyes.

It was big. Really big. It filled up the whole cave before us—something you could tell more by feel than sight, because most of it was shrouded in total darkness. Warren's trembling flashlight beam picked out only a tiny bit of it, mostly eyeshine. Eyeshine from a few too many eyes.

“Oh god,” Warren whimpered. “Oh god, oh oh god, oh god--”

“Holy shit,” Harris said. “Okay, this...this is bad.”

“Everyone calm down,” I said. “Warren, turn off your flashlight.”

“What?!”

“Turn it off! You're hurting its eyes.”

Warren didn't move, so Harris leaned over, plucked the flashlight from his hand, and turned it off.

“Thank you.” I moved forward very slowly, feeling my way along the cave wall. Now it was really dark, the kind of dark that drives you mad if you linger too long in it. I tried not to think about that.

“Hey,” I said. “We're not here to hurt you, okay? I'm sorry we're in your territory. We didn't mean to be. We just got really, really lost. We'd like to leave—to get up to the surface. Is there any way you could help us do that? We'd be really, really grateful.”

“He's talking to it,” Warren said. “Why is he talking to it?”

“Shut up,” Harris hissed.

There was silence for a moment. Then the creature tapped against the rock a few times. I could read the intent from its mind, not in human words but clear to me nonetheless: an agreement.

“Thank you,” I said. “Seriously, thank you.”

Then, to my surprise, the creature began to glow. Not all over, but in a few large spots, a soft luminous blue that was just enough light for us to see by. I could see a little more of the creature now—not enough to really make out any details, but enough to guess that it was something chitinous. It tapped a few more times and then, with surprising grace for something so big, turned around and began to lead the way.

“Come on,” I said.

Warren didn't initially move until Harris grabbed his arm and began to drag him along. “Do you want to get out of this place or don't you?”

“B-b-b-b-”

“Not everything scary-looking is evil,” I said. “Life lesson, Warren.”

It took another two hours of less than pleasant spelunking, but we eventually emerged, muddy and scraped, from a rocky outcropping in the middle of a field—although only after about ten minutes of combined pushing moved away the boulder that was blocking our exit. Night had long since fallen, and the sky above was full of a dazzling array of stars.

“Thank god,” Harris said, dropping her bag on the ground and stretching. “Well, that went less than optimally. Still, could've been worse.”

I helped Warren out of the cave. He had been quiet for a long time. “Word of advice, Warren. I wouldn't tell anyone about those caves, or what you saw in there. It'd be a damn shame to repay our friend's act of kindness by letting his home get invaded, yeah?”

“What was that thing?” Warren said.

Harris glanced at me. I shrugged. She clapped Warren on the shoulder. “Go home, get drunk, forget about this chapter of your life. That's my advice, Warren.”

“Um. How? We're in the middle of the desert.”

“Nah, I hear cars. We're near a road. Come on—we'll get back to civilization yet.” She hefted her bag back onto her shoulders and pointed dramatically before marching off.

“If we have to hitchhike, you're taking point,” I said as I followed her. “I did my part.”

“I wouldn't trust you to get a ride anyway. You look shifty.”

“We all look shifty right now.”

“Yeah, but you look the most shifty. And you've got blood all over you.”

“It's not my fault,” I grumbled. “That stalactite had it out for me.”

“And I'm sure if you tell the nice drivers that they'll certainly believe you.”

“You know what? You can retrieve the next cursed artifact on your own.”

#writing #original writing #fictober #fictober2018 #the seer project

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mattzerella-sticks · 5 years

Text

Dust-Off, a Dean/Cas fic post 14x10 (”Nihilism”)

Spiritual Sister to fic "Spelunkers" (ao3)

Michael is gone from Dean for good. After he, Sam, and Cas rid his body of the evil archangel's grace, Dean wants to scrub every trace of the being from him. But even his usual clothes bring him no comfort, as in a way Michael still wore them - used them to convince everyone that Dean was all right. So what can he wear? Maybe the little present he bought for himself a while back that he never had time to try. And what happens when a certain angel catches him in it?

Note: Yeah, the episode didn’t come out yet - I know. You gonna stop me? Also rated M for fun times ahead.

Dean stares at the box in his lap, the black cover slightly dusty from disuse. He brushes his fingers across, trailing them ever so slowly along the cursive words at the center: ‘Natasha’s’. The box was light at first, but the longer he lets it sit, the heavier it gets. Weighing down with another force to crush his legs. ‘I shoulda left it down there,’ he thinks, ‘I mean… what the hell was I even thinking – buying it in the first place?’

It was an impulsive purchase. Something he never should have bought but had to have. ‘Like the damned vibrator… I blame that. Only reason I was there in the first place…’

Natasha’s was a little store, hidden in the back corners of Kansas City. He had passed it one day with Sam when they were rushing off to another spelunking tour. They were running late – Sam lost in his sleep and Dean too preoccupied with bacon – but it still left a heavy impression on the elder brother. The soft curves of the lettering just like on the box, the almost antique looking storefront, and especially the beautifully decorated mannequins. He committed every little detail to memory before they turned the corner, filing it away for – what, he didn’t know.

Until later on in the day, when he found himself back there.

“You sure you don’t want any dinner?” Sam asked, halfway out the door of their motel room.

Dean didn’t look up. He was studying Google Maps, weighing the options of travelling by car or by foot. “Nah, I think I might take a quick walk, grab something from the vending machines.”

“If you say so…”

He didn’t know how long he’d been standing there before someone cleared their throat. A mature woman, with creases all along her face, peered up at him from behind her wide glasses. There was measuring tape draped across her neck, and a bobby pin or two messily shoved into her grey hair. “You know,” she said, “I was supposed to have closed five minutes ago.” She had a very noticeable accent, Eastern European if Dean was guessing.

“Sorry, I – uh…”

“You want to come in.”

She spun on her heel, back into the store. Dean followed, eyes bouncing around the moment he passed under the lilting chime. There wasn’t much room to move, an explosion of colorful fabrics either hung from metal rods or laid piled on wooden displays. There was a huge desk off to the right where a sewing machine sat on one of the ends. In the back, Dean counted five different dressing rooms, each hidden by black curtains.

“So,” the woman – ‘Natasha, if the store is anything to go by’ – continued, “what brings a man like you here?”

“Is it… not obvious?”

She paused, taking another long look at him. “Nothing is ever what it seems. It wouldn’t be right to assume anything. So… why am I keeping my store open?”

He didn’t have an answer. ‘I mean, I do,’ he thought, ‘But should I…’ Thinking fast, he said the first lie that popped into his mind. “I’m here for a friend!”

“…You are?”

“Yes,” he nodded, one hand absently reaching out towards some of her merchandise. He ran his finger across the satin. “They – um… needed a few things, but were kinda busy… and we aren’t here for long so I – I uh… offered to go and –“ he cleared his throat, “to go and get it…”

Natasha stayed silent for a long time. With each passing second, Dean felt himself shrink further and further into himself. By the time she spoke, he was the littlest doll in the nesting set.

“So,” she said, “your friend. Do they have a size?”

“Well – uh… about that?”

“Do you … not know?”

He flushed red. “…No.”

“Would you say your friend’s measurements are like your own?”

She smirked at him, then. It wasn’t cruel or judgmental. Instead, her face had softened, and Natasha offered him a way in. She opened shell after shell to find Dean, and give him a hand. He relaxed, smiling back at her. “Yeah, I’d say we’re the same there.”

“Very well,” she said, pulling at the tape, “let’s get you all sorted out. I’m pretty sure we’ll have something for your friend here.”

In the time he was remembering that story, he had removed the box’s lid. Peeling back the wax paper, Dean gawks at his earlier purchase. He lifts the sheer, pink lace by the satin straps, turning it over and over to fully take in the intricate pattern. Dean smiles, just like he did when Natasha showed it to him. “Pink is a good color,” she said, “A strong color. Not many people can pull it off. I’m sure your friend will.”

He places it next to him on the bed, digging back in for the next piece. As sheer as the bodice he picked out, but even more luxurious with the insane amount of ostrich feathers adhered to the cuffs and the train.

“Makes you feel beautiful,” Natasha whispered to him, slipping it over his shoulders, “Do you agree?”

Dean could barely take his eyes away from himself. “…Yeah.”

He drapes the robe alongside the lingerie. Thinking he had finished, Dean moves the box away. It rattles, drawing his attention back. Dean digs deeper, uncovering a satin bag as dark as the lining of the box.

Opening it, he finds two pink heels, with more ostrich feather, and little straps for his ankles. Dean blanches, remembering how Natasha brandished them for him as she was wrapping up his purchases.

“Are you sure,” she asked, “An outfit like this only works with a complete set. I’d hate for there to be any disappointment.”

Dean waved her off, laughing awkwardly. “No, no – I… my friend will be so happy with all of this. But, the shoes… it might be too much, all at once. You know?”

“Has your friend never worn such things before?”

“Nothing… nothing as good as this,” he confessed. “Maybe the odd piece here or there but… never the full picture. Maybe it would be too real and… y’know, then he’d have to deal with other things once he… once it’s…”

Natasha laid her hand across his, bringing focus on her. Her eyes were burning as she spoke. “The worst monsters are always the ones that exist here.” She pointed to her head. “But it’s only when we bring them out into the light of day, that we can beat them. Their power comes from dwelling in darkness. Never wait for them to strike, when you can have the first attack.”

‘Crazy lady,’ he thinks, ‘Probably knew more than she realized.’ He sets the shoes down, pulling at his tie. ‘We waited to long… didn’t think – no, no. Remember, it wasn’t my fault… it wasn’t any of our faults…’

Michael’s outfit was too constricting. He’s been free of the archangel’s influence for a short while now, and he still hasn’t changed. Dean couldn’t. There wasn’t anything he wanted to wear that wouldn’t remind him of his controller. Even his plaid shirts left bile burning in the back of his throat, the thought that Michael decorated himself in it to draw suspicion away circling around like a shark.

Dean needed something new. An outfit fully untouched by Michael. Where he could see his face and know it was himself staring back. Clothes that was completely unexpected for him to wear, but still his choice – that he wanted to wear.

He bunches the robe in his fists, grounding himself in its touch. ‘It can’t be this hard, Dean. We’ll take it slow… but first…’

Dean tears the tie off and flings it to some corner of the room. The hat follows, as well as the vest. He kicks his shoes off and hurls them at his wall. They fall over each other as he rips his socks off and repeats the process. A button or two fly off from his effort to completely shred the white shirt. And his trousers don’t fall fast enough. ‘At least Michael made this somewhat easier,’ he thinks, ‘Going commando. All right… now that that’s done…’

The bodice fit just as Natasha said it would. The lace hugged his body in all the right places, and felt as good on his skin as the satin did. Dean ran his fingers up and down his chest for quite some time, lost in the sensation.

When he finally came back up for air, he moved onto the next step. Dean sits, grabbing one of the shoes and fiddling with it. Unlike the bodice, Dean has never worn anything like these. The strap was hard to work with, his fingers too big and meaty to coordinate. In time, he managed to slip the first shoe on. And then the other went, much smoother than the first.

He stared down at his feet, toes poking out from behind the feather. They looked worse for wear, and didn’t fit with the illusion the heels evoked. ‘Maybe with a little polish… no – get a hold of yourself, Winchester.’ He turns his thoughts away towards the rest of the shoe. Even though he didn’t give Natasha his size, she guessed correctly. It fit perfectly, and the strap barely dug into his skin.

Although walking in them was an even worse battle. ‘Shit… women do this almost every day?’ He stumbles, leaning on his desk to right himself. ‘At least whatever Natasha picked out… the heel isn’t breaking.’ Dean wobbles back over to his bed, grabbing the last piece of his ensemble: the robe.

Like the first time he tried it on, it completely encases him. The fabric melds around his arms, fitting perfectly even as he stretches and flexes. Feathers are everywhere as he plays with the sleeves, shaking them to and fro. Dean does the same with the train, shifting back and forth in place, smiling a bit wider with each swing. Having done enough, Dean ties the satin string across his waist in a loose bow, smoothing the robe out.

‘Done,’ he thinks, ‘Now all I need is a…’ Dean looks around, searching for any reflective surface. None exist in his room, so he moves out of it. Into the ensuite bathroom, Dean finds his regular portrait-like mirror.

He wasn’t the loveliest thing at the moment. His skin pale, the freckles popping out like pebbles scattered across a snowy field. And his green eyes were tinged with red, still puffy from earlier. Dean’s hair was gelled and flat, another reminder of Michael. Frowning, Dean rakes his fingers back-and-forth, mussing it up every which way. When he’s done, the hairs sit out of place. It stands up at ends in areas, and his bangs fall across his forehead in a soft wave.

Moving on, Dean casts his gaze further down to the real purpose of his reflection. He has to take a step back to fully appreciate the outfit. His hands slowly trail down his body once more, pleasure sparking within. “I sure do look…” ‘Handsome? No, that wouldn’t work… Natasha said beautiful but – no, no the word I’m looking for is…’ “Pretty.” Dean smiles. “Yeah… pretty.”

He’s too distracted by his own image to hear the door opening. “Dean? You’ve been in here a long time… I know you might need your space, but…” Cas trails off, footsteps placing him in the center of Dean’s room.

He whirls around, facing Cas, giving him a better view of what he’s wearing. “Shit,” he says, trying to cover himself, “You – why didn’t you – wasn’t it locked?”

“You, uh… didn’t lock it.”

“Shit.” He sways into the room, slamming the door shut and locks it. His back is too it, once more facing Cas. His angel barely looked away, following Dean the entire time with his eyes. In the dim lighting of his room, they almost seem to glow. But then Dean blinks, and they’re the same blue as they always were. “You, uh… I can’t make you forget you ever saw any of this… will you?”

“Not likely, no,” he says, “I wouldn’t want to, anyway.”

“You wouldn’t?” A shadow falls over his face, and the already leaky dam bursts. A flood of bad thoughts washes through him, and he curls in on himself. “Yeah, I guess this does look pretty odd… just, if you’re going to laugh could you not do it here –“

“What?”

“It’s okay, I was dumb to ever think –“

“No no no no, Dean,” Cas rushes to him, hand cupping his face, pulling his face back up. “Dean, look at me. I would never laugh at you. What I – what I meant was that this – you, dressed as you are – is…”

Dean watches Cas’s face flicker with an internal argument. His touch sears his already heated skin, but he can’t push it away. He wants to hear what Cas says next, whatever it may be a deciding factor in how he acts for the rest of the night.

Cas licks his lips, scanning Dean once more. “You are… divine.”

Dean shrugs. “I used pretty.”

“Pretty works, too.”

“Yeah, but yours makes me all… tingly.”

Cas chuckles. “So,” he says, “is there any reason you’re wearing… this?”

Dean sneaks a quick peek of his own outfit again. “Do I have to have one?”

“Not particularly, no… you’re allowed to do things you enjoy. You… are enjoying this, are you?”

“I was… still am, a little differently though.” He shifts his hips, pressing a hand against his growing erection.

“Then you don’t need a reason. Although… I have to believe there is some inciting incident to this given… earlier events. Isn’t there?” Dean bites his lip, glancing away. Cas doesn’t shy away as easily. “Dean?” he asks again, voice an octave lower than before. It sends a cascade of chills up his body.

“I… wanted to do something,” he explains, “out of the ordinary… shake things up a bit. Prove to myself that I’m back in control. I don’t think Mi… he would ever put this on.”

“I’d have to agree.”

“It helps that I’ve been meaning to wear this for awhile. Except with everything going on…”

“Things can get put off.” Cas nods, “I understand.” He tilts his head, squinting. “Is there… anything else you might want to do? That only you would?”

“Well…” Dean smirks, trailing one hand up Cas’s chest while the other still presses up against his thick cock. “There is one thing…”

“I’d be… happy to help, if you need assistance.”

“Oh Cas,” Dean laughs, “I’d hate to do it alone. And…”

“And what?”

“You’re the only one I’d want to do it with, anyway.” Dean spurs into action. He pushes, guiding Cas back up to his bed. His angel stops, his legs hitting against the frame. Dean tells him to sit with a gentle nudge on his shoulder.

When Cas settles himself down, Dean steels his nerves. He crawls onto Cas’s lap, arms wrapping around his angel’s neck. The ostrich feathers catch on Cas’s stubble, and he blows one away from his mouth. Dean fights back a grin. “This okay?” he asks.

“It’s good,” he murmurs, hands settling on Dean’s waist, “…could be better…”

“Really? How?”

“We could stop talking…” Cas leans up, then, catching Dean’s lips in a kiss. He doesn’t fight. Dean kisses back with as much fervor. They’re like twin volcanoes, erupting at the same time. A field in a storm where lightning strikes the surface at every second. They’re the sea and the moon, pulling and pushing each other in an eternal dance. It’s everything Dean imagined and still nothing he was prepared for. The more they kiss; the overall sensation of goodness fills his brain. Casting away any lingering traces of Michael. ‘Bastard could never get this right…’ he thinks, ‘How many times did he try and sell me on those fake Cas’s… I knew the real deal would be worth the wait.’

Dean grinds down on Cas’s crotch, delighted to meet a similar hardness. “Someone’s excited,” he whispers into another kiss, scraping against Cas’s scalp.

“Who wouldn’t be,” Cas says, marking up Dean’s neck in their next breath, “Seeing you in that. I nearly lost it the moment I laid eyes on you.”

“I’m already yours, Cas,” Dean tells him, groaning as Cas bites into his collarbone, “You don’t have to sweet talk me anymore.”

“I mean it, Dean, truly.”

“All right, all right…”

Cas pauses, pulling away to look at Dean. “Do you not believe me?” He looks somewhat hurt, but behind that, Dean can see another emotion. Hidden within the black whorls of his pupils, he thinks Cas might… enjoy it. That maybe his sarcasm and big mouth thrills him in other ways. This thought makes his outfit even more uncomfortable.

“Dean,” Cas continues, “I will never tire showering you in compliments. You deserve each and everyone of them.” He tightens his grip on Dean’s waist as he drops his back to the bed. Then, in one swift motion, he flips them.

“Cas!” Dean yelps, “If you rip this –“

“I’m being careful,” he says, hovering above, “I’ll always be careful with you… unless you tell me otherwise.”

“Cas…”

“Dean,” his angel says, the word dipped in solid gold love, striking every nerve to make Dean’s heart sing. “Dean,” he repeats, “Tell me you want this. Let me know how I can please you.”

He nearly bursts into tears right there. But he switches course, and instead a giggle bursts out. Dean laughs, knocking his head into Cas’s shoulder. “I’ve always wanted this, Cas,” Dean tells him, “Wanted you. I didn’t realize, at first, just how but… some days it’s all I can think about.”

“You happen to be in my thoughts often, as well.”

“…I can’t believe we’ve waited so long –“

“No,” Cas shushes him, “Let’s not do that. We’re here, now. That’s what matters. That and… what you want me to do with you?”

‘With? Man, he knows what to say to push my buttons…’ “Cas, be honest… do you like my mouth?”

“I do,” Cas says, “It’s perfectly shaped, and have great experience. Your tongue…”

“No, I mean, do you like when I… say things?”

“What kind of things?”

“Um… I don’t know? Sarcastic things, naughty things – words only a little shit would say?” There’s barely a slip of blue left in Cas’s eye. “You do, don’t you?”

“Do I even need to say anything else?”

“No,” Dean shrugs, “Although… if you really wanna hear me say some filthy things… you could always use your mouth.” His little nod south doesn’t go unnoticed. Cas grins, pressing kisses up against his lace-covered abdomen, taking his time getting to Dean’s crotch. His hands slide over to some clasps, the only thing keeping Dean’s leaking cock from breaking out of the sheer, see-through fabric. Cas snaps them open, pulling the panties down and away. He’s about to fully take Dean into his mouth, until Dean tugs on his hair to stop him. He glances up at him, Dean smirking all the while. “Who said I wanted your mouth there?”

Cas fully loses it as he flips Dean over, growling at the sight of Dean’s ass. “I am going to have so much fun with you…”

“Couldn’t have said it better myself, Ca – aah, aah, ass! Oh, yeah baby – yeah! Right there!”

Sam, adrift in the Internet, barely notices Cas re-enter the room. When he does, he stands, mouth opening and closing with every passing beat. There are so many questions he wants to ask: “Is Dean okay?” “Why was he in there for so long?” “Why were you?” “What happened to your tie?” Instead, he asks, “Dean?”

“He’s okay,” Cas tells him, sitting across from where Sam was, “The process… tired him out more than he thought. Said he can barely move from bed, and even if he could he wouldn’t want to.”

“Well that… does sound like Dean.” Sam collapses back onto his seat. “I was scared, there, after Michael that he might relapse back into somewhere… darker.”

“Your brother is strong, Sam,” Cas tells him, “Stronger with the two of us here supporting him, and with Michael cast out far and away.”

“That’s the truth,” Sam sighs, “I wish the slippery bastard didn’t disappear like that. Would’ve loved to have trapped him and drop kicked him back to his world.”

“A little tame for my tastes but okay.” Cas points to his open laptop. “Is that what you were doing? Looking for Michael?”

Sam blushes, barely meeting Cas’s gaze. “Uh… I should have, right? But, that’s not what I –“

“What were you doing?”

“It’s… it’s a little silly, but…” He turns it around, showing Cas his open tabs and search bar. “I thought Dean might want to do something to get his mind off of all that happened, a quick day-off, nothing too extreme. And he really seemed to like this spelunking trip we did –“

“Spelunking? What’s that?”

“Oh! It’s this activity where people go and explore caves. I’m surprised you’ve never heard of it?”

Cas smirks. “My apologies, but I know of it in a… slightly different tongue.”

“So you’ve explored caves before?”

“Only recently. I never had the desire or chance in the first few millennia of my existence.”

“You should totally come with us then, next time!” Sam smiles, looking back to his screen. “Or maybe we can do something else? Laser tag sounded fun… and so did these escape rooms… do you have any thoughts?”

Cas taps at his chin, expression stuck as it was. “Well… let’s just say whatever you plan for us…”

“Yeah?”

“Make sure it’s low-endurance. I’m afraid Dean doesn’t have a lot of stamina for… multiple rounds.”

#Supernatural #Spn #Spn fanfic #Supernatural fanfic #Dean Winchester #Castiel #Destiel #Destiel fanfic #14x10 #Supernatural Coda #Spn Coda

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ectoflowermaid · 7 years

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Homestuck Camping Headcanons

John: Brought enough kites to populate a small country if the citizens were also kites. “John we’re in the middle of the fucking woods where are you going to fly a goddamn kite,” wrong question Karkat. John makes eye contact while holding a kite, floats up above the tree line, and flies his kite suck a dick everyone. Terezi tries flying one of the kites but seemingly does not know how. When John tries to show her she somehow manages to get him tangled up in the string and just starts cackling. She takes another kite from the pile and flies it perfectly. John is not pleased.

Dave: Spends the entire trip there composing raps and sick beats which is VERY ANNOYING to Karkat who is being carried five inches from Dave’s stupid rhyming mouth fuck you Dave. When they get there, it turns out mr cool kid is hella afraid of bugs, like “fuck oh fuck there’s a bug Karkat kill it please fuck oh my god someone please just kill it” levels of hate. “You know my species starts out as a bug” Karkat narrows his eyes. That is different, Dave tells him, your species can talk and have s- “eat shit, Dave.” Around the campfire, he tries to tell a scary story but it turns out the big plot twist at the end is just a character falling down some stairs and Dave saying “I warned you about stairs, bro” in a spooky voice. Roxy throws a marshmallow at his head from across the campfire.

Jade: Somehow manages to befriend every single forest creature she finds. She goes out for a walk and comes back with five squirrels, three bunnies, and a doe with her baby in tow. “Can we keep them?” She finds a nearby lake with a little waterfall and encourages everyone to go swimming, she cannonballs off the ledge obvi and a belly flop competition starts. Everyone’s belly hurts. This was a mistake. Oh god.

Rose: Finds a dark cave nearby and extends an invitation to explore it, Kanaya lights the way and Jake shows up in full on spelunking gear which ends up being pretty much useless as the cave dead ends after fifty feet. Rose is disappointed, she was hoping to find ancient cave drawings or the remains of a ritual sacrifice. Jake, who found some cool rocks and some kind of skull he might give to Dave, asks her why she seems let down. When she mumbles something about the blood of children he nods and walks a step behind her on the way back. At the campfire, Rose also tries to tell a scary story, she recounts the tale of Mothman. It is actually pretty spooky until she gets to the end and says that there probably was no Mothman and it was most likely a red sand hill crane that had wandered off its mighration course. Dave boos.

Kanaya: No one but Rose will share a tent with Kanaya (especially not Dave) because she likes to turn up her glow a little which attracts every. Single. Bug. She has an entourage of moths following her around and yes they do have names, Rose, they’re our children now you have to love them. Tries her hand at scary stories too, but it ends up just being about a troll who showed up to a white-tie occasion in a semi-formal outfit. Needless to say, the fear and outraged reaction was limited. She does end up scaring John, however. He heads around to the latrine only to see Kanaya hunched over a bag of pre-packed blood. “Uh, Kanaya? What are you doing?” She turns around with blood all over her mouth which she casually wipes away, Oh Hello John, I Did Not Hear You Coming, Is Something The Matter? The last part is said to his back as he sprints away screaming.

Karkat: Eats a bug in front of Dave just to freak him out a little, then Dave asks if it’s cannibalism and Karkat punches him in the arm. Tries to refuse swimming in the lake, but Dave jumps in and pretends to drown so Karkat freaks out and jumps in to try to rescue him. When Dave resurfaces laughing, Karkat pushes him back under and asks Dirk if this would count as a just death. Dirk says he better not risk it. While he’s asleep, Dave and John team up by squirting shaving cream on Karkat’s hand and tickling his face with a crow feather. This backfires because instead of rubbing his own face, Karkat starts swinging his arms out and manages to cover both Dave and John’s faces in shaving cream. He doesn’t notice and goes immediately back to sleep. Dave and John wash the shaving cream off and agree that this never happened, only Jane and Roxy Definitely Saw Them and also took a video.

Terezi: “accidentally” knocks one of John’s tent poles out with her cane while she’s walking, then accuses John of unfairly targeted a poor innocent blind girl. She and Vriska go to the river to try and catch fish for dinner, they end up getting in a competition to see who can catch the most fish. Everyone eats soup for dinner. Terezi and Vriska will not talk about what happened. Terezi gives scary stories a go, but it ends up being less scary and more like one of her roleplaying court scenarios. The only vaguely frightening thing is that at the end, she points up to the trees and everyone suddenly realizes that she hanged a bunch of her plushies sometime during the day and apparently no one noticed until now. She smiles wickedly and everyone feels slightly uneasy.

Jane: Spends part of the afternoon getting the soup ready in anticipation of a lack of fish. Realizes she forgot some of her spices at home and starts panicking until Jade takes her through the woods and helps her find some wild herbs that will taste almost the same. At one point, she goes to the bathroom and comes back with a small carapacian in handcuffs having apparently dodged another assassination attempt. She treats this very casually but enjoys being fussed over for a little bit. She tells a scary story that’s actually scary, no one realizes she’s teamed up with John in the Ultimate Prankster Duo. He is making the wind move through the trees very eerily, and right at the scariest part of the story he jumps out of the woods yelling. Everyone jumps out of their seats, some of the godtier kids accidentally fly up a good ten feet in the air they got so frightened. Jane and John high five and secretly salute Colonel Sassacre.

Jake: Jumps off the waterfall at least fifty times and has a blast doing it. Dirk is hesitant to go because he secretly is sort of afraid of heights after living in the post-apocalyptic high rises of Texas. Jake remedies this by picking him up bridal style and jumping off the ledge with him. Dirk does NOT scream or hold onto Jake for dear life because that would be uncool. Jake shows Jade some of the cool rocks he found and presents Dave with the cool skull he brought back. Dave is slightly in awe and develops a newfound respect for Jake, who promises to show him his Cool Skull collection when they get back home. Jake tells a story around the campfire that might have been intended to be scary, but ends up being more of an adventure tale, Indiana Jones style. Everyone listens intently and really enjoys it even though it’s not a ghost story.

Roxy: Can apparently climb trees like nobodies business? She had to help the carapacians in her old neighborhood get stuff out of them because they were always losing balls and cats and kites. She goes for a walk with Jade and Calliope while Jane is making dinner and they pick her a nice bouquet of wildflowers to give her when they get back. Around the campfire, she tries to tell a scary story but it ends up being about wizards and no one is surprised. Their tent is poppin’ and she and the ladies party it the fuck up all night and end up sleeping until noon the next day because they’re so exhausted.

Calliope: Loves being in nature so so so so much holy fuck. She’s lived underground and chained up her entire life that this is unbelievable. She’ll spend entire hours just staring up at the sky and pointing out cloud shapes to Jane and Roxy. She tries telling a scary story around the campfire, but it ends up being a tale about the importance of friendship and how love is the truest magic of all. There are a few tears in some of the kids eyes at the end of it.

Dirk: He and Jake go out to collect firewood and refuse to take more than one trip so they stagger back into camp with towering piles of branches and make a huge mess by dropping them everywhere. Instead of telling a ghost story, he and Dave have a rap battle over the fire which devolves into them just laughing and quoting SBAHJ until they can’t talk anymore. Karkat and Jake share a Look™ like, I can’t believe these are our fucking dorks. Dirk can name every single star, he knows the stars and constellations that transferred over from his Earth, and he knows the ones that migrated in from Alternia/Beforus. People begin to doubt him when he points out a constellation that he claims is shaped like a dick, most likely because he called it “Ursa Penis”. He spends the rest of the night trying to come up with a major/minor dick size joke but can’t think of a good one and sulks a little about it.

Sollux: Sets up everyone’s tent for them with his psiionics and goes on a walk with Karkat. They get very lost and argue the whole time about whether or not they are actually lost. John and Dave are flying above them and could theoretically help them get back to camp but they will not. Sollux thinks they’re going to die out in the woods and tries eating some roots and berries and mushrooms even though Karkat tells him that that’s the worst possible fucking idea he’s ever had in his life and yes he’s including the time Sollux suggested finding a way to combine troll and bee DNA to make the ultimate being. You mean ‘bee’-ing, Sollux says. No the fuck I do not, Karkat replies. The mushroom Sollux eats ends up giving him wackass hallucinations and Karkat definitely does not record any of the crazy bullshit Sollux starts saying.

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curlicuecal · 7 years

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Let’s Be Outcasts (ch 14/?) (AR/Kankri)

Part 2 of cyber!bunny Apocalypse ‘verse (tumblr)

ch: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15

read on AO3

Summary: Divergent AU where AR and Li'l Seb get kicked into a new universe with some snazzy new cyborg bodies. They’re still working out the bugs.

In which AR discovers that kidnapping rarely solves more problems than it creates, Mituna breaks out of a lab (with some help), and Seb continues to take good care of his Bro.

—-

Ch 14.

Cutting through the streets of a patchwork city, following the trail marked by a small robot bunny turned cyborg child, you attempt to explain your life to a troll you were thinking about murdering not 72 hours ago.

You don’t know how long it’ll take you to catch up with Seb, but you’ve got a looming mystery device de-activation to keep on schedule with, so you treat Kankri to the outline version of your backstory. And by outline you mean you leave some things out entirely. Wallowing in old memories is not on your emotional to-do list for the foreseeable future, and anyway, you’re hoping that the caffeinated cliffnotes rendition will make you sound less like a crazy person.

Alternate realities and reality altering games, check; watery sea Hitler dystopia, check; trolls and humans from previous game iterations, check. Teenagers creating artificial intelligence brain-clones in their bedrooms… eh. What are the odds of that being plot relevant, really?

You breeze through the getting left behind bit so fast even you aren’t sure you covered it before you’re on and already wrapping up with “…so Sawtooth and Squarewave grabbed a door out of the universe and me and Seb followed after and tah-dah, here we are; you might have some familiarity with the end of this story.”

You’re currently picking your way through the debris of a crumbling boathouse/alien hell-garage that some universal force has very inconveniently plopped down in the middle of a street, so you can’t actually watch Kankri’s face for reaction. This is fine. His reactions are, provably, of statistically insignificant consequence in the calculation of your internal state. Really. You could make spreadsheets.

You duck a ceiling beam and hopscotch a broken boardwalk of wooden planks, turning to catch a glimpse of him in the corner display of your ever helpful shades. Chin down, brows drawn together, he appears lost in thought—although that might just be his contemplation of the route least likely to collapse under his feet. (You’re going through the landlocked boathouse rather than, say, around because your path-flagger is a tiny robot bunny child with apparently no setting other than DIRECT. Thanks, Seb.)

“Spoilers,” you add, “the end of the story contains explosions and kidnapping.”

That at least provokes a twitch, eyes flicking over to you as he draws level and then passes. You make your way after him, watching the back of his head, something restless and dissatisfied in your gut. He’s been—well, not quiet, quiet is rarely the appropriate word for Kankri. But for all the intensity of his attention to your story, his questions and comments have remained inscrutably neutral. You’d expected more… reaction? Humorous huffing and flailing and stubborn argument with your reality. But no, just this loaded silence and the questions.

You’d assume he thought you were full of shit if each verbal probe didn’t jab directly to some tender spot like a heat-seeking missile.

“You don’t think you’ll find the rest of your companions?” Kankri asks.

Like that one.

“Different doors, different universe.” Focus on your steps. Kankri runs lightly along a fallen crossbeam and you follow after. “That’s the whole point.”

“But you didn’t go into the same universe as your friends?”

“It is physically challenging to pass through a door that has stopped existing.” Your own voice has grabbed some toneless, sing-song neutrality, old auto-responder rhythms emerging without thought, wrapping around the words to keep them separate from you. You have the idea that that maybe gives away more than it conceals, so you make an effort to lever some glib back in there, too.

“’Friends’ is such a strong term, anyway. ‘Long-term associates by necessity’? ‘People who are better at navigating through access portals than me’? ‘Proud recipients of the ‘Winner’s Only’ Universe award’? For winners? And their friends?” You sense you might be failing at glib. But words have always been your core armament and damn but you have a lot of them. “PS: no offense–great world you’ve got going here and all, love the man-eating plant zombies–but have you considered we might be in the multiverse’s equivalent of a junk drawer? Like, we are literally spelunking through spare parts that didn’t make the cut right now. An entire universe built out of defective extras. Opposite of the winner’s ‘verse is—”

Kankri stops in his tracks so abruptly you almost trip right into the back of him. You end up awkwardly skip-hopping several steps sideways in your efforts to stay upright and avoid impact.

You take another step back when he wheels on you, then manage to hold your ground when he plants himself right up in your space.

“I hope,” he says, in clipped tones, “you will forgive me if I seem to be silencing your viewpoint, but I find the idea that an individual’s circumstances are interchangeable with their worth to be fundamentally offensive.”

“Um,” you say. His eyes are very bright. Chin high, stance set, looking down his nose at you like some kind of classical angel casting down judgment. You resist the urge to back up another pace. “I didn’t mean it… quite like that.” You think.

He doesn’t budge an inch. “Excuse me for not appreciating the implication that I was hatched into some kind of universally decreed lesser state. Or do you think your circumstances in life are somehow more inherently meaningful than mine? This isn’t a game and it’s never been fair. You talk like being here is—is something you earned, some kind of punishment, when all I hear is a series of accidental mishaps and coincidences that no one present could have accounted for. It’s a universe, not a referendum on your character.”

Your breath comes short and superficial in your chest. For once, you think your face might actually be completely blank, if only because you have so many complicated emotions going on right now mere organic features couldn’t hope to compose a functional physical representation of them.

“…That was a very long way to say ‘shit happens,’” you say faintly.

Kankri actually flashes his fangs at you. Which is, um. Sort of interesting actually, but wow do you not need to add any more confusion to the feelings pile right now. It’s like he flayed you open with words just to pick apart vulnerabilities you didn’t even know you had. (A pointless, pointless fucking accident. Do you think that you deserved it, do you think they wouldn’t have changed it if they could?) How do you not be a flippant asshole when you can’t even deal with the question existing in the first place?

Kankri sucks in a breath. “First of all—“

“Sorry,” you interject, because when all else fails you can at least pretend to not be a massive tool. The surprise draws him, blinking, to a halt.

“That’s—that was a good point. Actually. I—I’ll have to think about that.” Do you really, though. Okay, fine, probably; you are rationally aware that permavoidance is not a tenable long term strategy for proper social adjustment and damned if you won’t face your demons like a Strider.

…Later.

“Also I don’t think you’re a lesser being. If that was unclear. All of my hang ups are 100%, grade-A me-centered; it’s this thing I’m doing where I forget my words reflect on other people and are generally capable of being offensive and sort of degrading when followed through to their logical conclusions.”

You know what’s terrible? Apologizing. And also sincerity. And having an organic nervous system that rings horrible fluttery alarm bells whenever it decides you’ve got a vulnerability showing—thanks, self, you can work that out without your heart humming deafeningly in your ears or your neck flushing hot.

Kankri’s still looking at you, eyes startled, lips parted like you’ve caught him off-balance, and that, at least, is a small victory that you can cling to.

He’s still just… right there. He’s not close, not exactly, there’s a solid body’s width of clear space between you, plenty of room for the Holy Spirit to get down and jiggy with it, but he feels close. Hemmed in by fallen beams and the debris of this strange, out-of-place building; moonlight trickling uneven through cracks in the ceiling; and it strikes you, suddenly, that you’ve literally never been alone with anyone except Seb.

(It wasn’t kind, what he said, it wasn’t nice or sensitive or empathetic to your experience, but maybe you still wanted to hear it and maybe there’s a fascination in the way he never lets any of your shit slide like it doesn’t matter.)

And then, thank god, the floor collapses under your left foot.

“Ow, fuck,” you say, and then: “…Found the next path marker.” From this angle Seb’s shuriken is clearly visible high in the next wall over, glinting dully in a promising ray of exterior moonlight.

“Are you all right?” Kankri asks. You peel your elbows up off the floorboards to see that he’s hovering uncertainly close, feet placed carefully, hands half out like he went to touch and then thought better of it. Hm.

“…Yep.” Bruised and scraped and disoriented, flat on one knee and up to your ankle in rotten board, but, as buildings trying to eat you goes, surprisingly all right. Wow, you are hella lucky you didn’t break something going over like that. Incapacitated by architecture, how completely mortifying would that be?

Kankri, you note, has not set a foot wrong this entire time.

“Systems are registering 100% peachy.” Teeth gritted, you ease your leg back through the gap, shaking loose rot-soft splinters. You’ve ripped your pants and your shin’s scraped all down one side, but it’s oozing, not spurting or gushing or anything. Dirk’s gotten around fine on worse than this plenty of times. So whyyyy does it still have to hurt like the bloody blazes? Nervous systems. Ugh.

You head for the hopefully-an-exit-wall, choosing your footing attentively again, but moving at a good clip. Kankri follows after, hanging close. …If he starts trying to coddle you the way Seb does you are going to lose your damn shit. But ten paces later you realize he’s using each footing you test and he hasn’t even tried to recommend better ones. Your shoulders unknot a fraction.

The final, exterior wall turns out to contain a solid row of boarded up windows and… that’s about it. Well, there’s also fallen beams and a pile of decaying nets further blocking some of the boarded windows. “Seb, what the heck,” you mutter blankly.

Kankri cranes his head way back. “I think he went out that sort of… porthole aperture. The one tucked under the ceiling arch.” His own voice sounds a little flat.

You both contemplate the climb. Unanimously and with no discussion, you elect to set about prying free some window boards instead. It’s a team effort.

“Is it okay if I hate that building in particular?” you ask not very long afterwards, when you’re outside picking yourself out of the dirt below the narrow opening you made. “Because I think that building in particular was designed by leprechauns entirely to spite me.”

Kankri, who made it through the window with a surprising amount of facility after shedding his cloak, looks up sharply from fiddling with the fabric. “You can feel however you want.”

You blink, uncertainly, and still don’t know what to make of his tone by the time he looks away again. “…Gee, thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” Kankri fiddles with his cloak laces some more, but he’s got that little tick line between his brows that implies he’s thinking hard. You are starting to find Kankri’s deep-in-thought face nearly as alarming as the intake of breath that denotes the wind up to a lecture.

Whatever. You’ve got places to go, so you set off down the street towards a fluttering strip of blue cloth. Kankri shadows you silently.

Maybe he’s mad at you.

“Thank you for telling me your story,” he says, abruptly, and you are left to face the possibility that maybe you just don’t understand Kankri Vantas even a tiny fucking bit. He abandons his laces to fold his hands in front of him, squares his shoulders as he falls into pace with you and, oops, yes, there is the lecture-breath. “I should have expressed that earlier. I recognize that that was a symbolic gesture of trust on your part and that my behavior may have come across as …insensitive to your emotional vulnerability and accompanying cognitive distortions.”

You have this weird thing where you find him sort of offensive and charming and hilarious all at the same time and you can’t put your finger on the fascination. Probably you’re going to die of it. He picks through every phrase like it’s a foreign concept he’s memorized by rote and he’s so damn sincere even when he’s insulting you to your face.

“Also,” he adds, as you skirt some thick brambles that are eating a set of surprisingly unrusted construction machinery, “I appreciate your openness to correction.”

You raise your eyebrows at him, but politely refrain from derailing that into kink territory. “I’m not a homework assignment. I’m not going to agree with you just because you come at me with a red pen that says I should.”

“I never—“ Kankri pauses, checks himself. “It wasn’t my intention to imply that I expected you to. Of course I only want you to listen to reasoned arguments.”

“What, despite my crippling cognitive distortions?”

“Please refrain from putting reductive adjectives in my mouth. I only meant it was an emotionally charged topic for you and—and I appreciate that you were willing to listen despite your rationality on the subject being impaired.”

He’s got his black-in-gold eyes fixed on you again, intent and painfully earnest, and it’s short-circuiting your ability not to feel a little touched. In the way where you would also like him to stop harping on about your irrationality, but, hey, choose your battles. “You’re welcome,” you say dryly, stealing a response from his repertoire. “You know, I don’t think anyone’s ever accused me of being too emotional before. You do realize you’re talking to the guy that’s basically a microchip implanted in a meat-suit, right?”

“And you realize that you are propagating harmful stereotypes when you make flippant comments of that nature. Cybernetically modified humans are human in origin and are perfectly capable of a full range of typical human emotions. I can’t say that I’ve noticed you are any exception in this regard. Except perhaps for being incredibly aggravating.”

“Flattery.”

“Besides,” he adds, ignoring your smirk, “that prejudice is premised on the idea that a certain way of processing reactions is somehow the superior state. Saying something has to have emotions to have its personhood recognized is just another direction for enforcing a social caste system favoring the status quo.”

“In other words, systemic oppression continues to be a fun, fun, multidimensional exercise in how many new and exciting combo-attacks we can create. Yay, intersectional privilege.”

Kankri blinks and looks sideways at you. His brows twitch in. “…I’m not familiar with those terms in that context,” he says after a pause.

This, you reflect, is the Kankri Vantas method of asking for clarification: guarded, resentful, vaguely accusatory; like you knowing something he doesn’t is some kind of intentional slight.

You shrug disarmingly, wave a hand. “Uh. Well, privilege is…advantages you get based solely on chance or social structures; and intersectional is, like, the idea that you can have a bunch of advantages or disadvantages from different sources pile non-additively to make the system even more unfair…”

You trail off because there’s a strange gleam in his eyes. You feel like you’ve just given crack cocaine to a baby.

“Privilege,” Kankri repeats, in a thoughtful tone.

You don’t flinch, but it feels like you should.

Maybe you should not teach Kankri any more cross-dimensional lecture vocabulary. Or…. You contemplate the intriguing possibility that you could teach him all the words. That would probably be terrifying. And hilarious.

…holy hell, who placed this kind of power in your hands? There is no way you are not going to wield this for evil.

You are still contemplating your potential for AI super-villainy when Kankri interrupts your thoughts.

“Were cy privileged very differently in the society you came from?”

You miss a step. Thanks, adrenaline surge. Lie or tell the truth? Lie or tell the truth? Lie or– “There weren’t any cy.”

Kankri blinks. “But you—”

…Yep. You really, really, don’t like his thoughtful silences.

You could have just told him. A whole long crazy speech about alternate realities and you could have dropped ‘I’m actually a high-tech photocopy of a brain’ in there anywhere. You could still tell him right now. ‘I got dropped into this flesh suit via game mechanics I still don’t understand and I don’t know whether it’s worse if it’s just an accident or if something decided that this was as close to being a person as I get.’ You could just. Say it. Except the muscles of your throat feel tight and locked like a system failure.

He’s looking at you. “A number of your comments have suggested surprise or unfamiliarity with. Erm. Details of your person?”

The thing you keep forgetting when you go into your bullshit snark routines is that he just keeps listening.

“…Were you an unmodified human?” Kankri sounds dubious at the possibility. That—hurts. Maybe. You can’t even tell what you feel anymore.

“No.” Your sentence ends before it even really starts. Oh, great. At this rate you can play a game of twenty questions on the topic. Or charades.

You tell yourself, again, all the reasons you’re being ridiculously overdramatic and all the reasons it doesn’t matter to you in the least if you just say the thing. Ha ha. Nope. You are not remotely okay with this, you’ve smacked face first into a steel wall of not okay do-not-go-there, and at the very least you can try to not to add self-delusion to your list of sins.

“I thought,” you evade finally, “the deal was for an exchange of information. It seems I’m carrying out the greater part of the soul-baring legwork here.”

Kankri frowns at you. “You’re uncomfortable with this topic,” he says, like a revelation.

You resist the urge to facepalm. Then you decide, what the heck, you’ve got hands, clearly the universe has provided for this situation. “Congratulations on your impeccable analysis,” you tell him sincerely through your fingers.

Kankri’s frown increases. “Is this the part you meant before about being flippant as a coping mechanism?”

Pffft. Okay. You’re still upset, but this is also funny. And also sort of endearing, but you really, really need to stop thinking like that because it’s probably proof you have a wire crossed. Or several. “On the balance of probability?” You slide him a provoking smirk. “Historical precedent would indicate I am being flippant roughly 95.5% of the time.”

“That would imply you’re trying to cope most of the time,” Kankri says blankly, and then does this thoughtful little head tilt that makes you want to smack yourself in the face again. “I don’t even understand why you’d be uncomfortable,” he adds, chin rising. “You’re aware that I’m a mutant. Hemoanomalous trolls are supposed to be culled at hatching, are not eligible for imperial service to the Ebon Empire, and, given interspecies tensions, are essentially locked out of every organized society currently in existence on this planet. Not to devalue whatever your own experiences might be, but on a spectrum of… intersectional privilege… targeted genocide strikes me as the likely lower threshold.”

“…Point.” You narrow your eyes behind your shades. “I see you mastered the privilege Olympics at full speed.”

He narrows his eyes right back at you, then turns away with a toss of his horns. “I don’t know what that means. But my custodian always said strategic thinking can turn a vulnerability to a strength, or a pawn to a queen.”

“Talkative lusus.”

Kankri sniffs. “Don’t be species-prescriptive. If it’s any business of yours my lusus-mother is carapacian.”

You consider that for a minute, picking your way down a rapidly narrowing alleyway. “How’d that happen?”

He hesitates a half-beat before waving a hand dismissively. “Oh, the usual way.”

You’re guessing that means something different for trolls.

The alleyway grows still narrower, and he waits politely for you to go ahead of him, hangs back to give you your space. Courteous. Careful. He’s one more person that’s worked out the ‘don’t touch the jumpy cyborg’ rules and, considering how oblivious he is to everything else that hasn’t been explicitly spelled out, you can’t help but wonder grimly whether it’s so much consideration as fear. He seems self-assuredly smug enough, but you’re still the dude that kidnapped him and held him at sword point not so very long ago.

(–he flinched, and he looked at you with eyes that burned like coals, and you did that, you put that bright kernel of fear there behind the steel–)

“—so, do I get to hear the Kankri Vantas secrets repository?” You’ve turned sideways to crab your way through the excessively narrow space between brick and stone—what even, Seb; thank you so very much for this entire experience—so you can see him cast you an unreadable glance.

“Should I interpret that to mean you would prefer I not ask further questions about your person?”

“Gotta save something for the second date,” you quip, before you can really think about it. He blinks and you bite your tongue, hard. Whaaaaat are you doing here, exactly? Everything about this situation is still a majorly bad idea, and you’re trying to cut back on those.

“I… see,” Kankri says, looking utterly puzzled by you.

Oh, look, this wall is conveniently close should you urgently need to knock some sense into your skull. Maybe you should stay here. You skootch your way free from the end of the alley and grab for the first conversational redirect that comes to mind as you wait for Kankri to catch up.

“Not eligible for imperial service, huh? I don’t want to make unsolicited conjectures here, but that sure sounds like ‘not actually working for the government.’”

He stops and looks at you. You feel like there is something very heavy hanging in the air, poised to tip. To fall. To break.

You never could resist pushing.

“So? Are you?”

There’s a few ticks of silence. “No,” he says finally. “Not particularly.”

And boom, there’s that adrenaline buzz back, licking through your veins like lightning, the world slowly tilting towards something new. (He’s going to tell you.) ((he’s going to trust you.))

“I wouldn’t be …welcome. Which isn’t to say that Porrim and Latula and the rest of our… assemblage don’t have service obligations to fulfill,” Kankri adds, briefly distracted by the minutiae of precision word-smithing. “But those imperial obligations are, I admit, entirely extraneous to our purpose here.” He pauses, and you can’t turn away from the weight of his gaze, intense upon you, there in the mouth of the alley.

“In fact,” he says, still studying you, evidently choosing his words with care, “you might go so far as to say they are in opposition.”

Adrenaline spikes, hot and sweet.

He hesitates again, drawing in a breath, but now it’s very much the hesitation of someone settling themselves into the irrevocable pull of gravity before a leap. You make a sound of encouragement, low in your throat, and startle yourself with how much it sounds like sex.

Okay, you know what? You’re going to chalk everything about this day up to ‘organic physiology is stupid, non-compliant, and not my fault’ and add ‘get a handle on yourself’ to your urgent to-do list. In whatever sense of the word ‘handle’ puts you back in charge of your own reactions.

And now you’ve gotten so flustered distracted you’ve actually missed the next bit of Kankri’s speech.

“—drones themselves are not the problem, but rather the centralized nature of the collection of, er… genetic material.”

Wait, back up.

Why are you getting a lecture on troll reproduction.

“Looked at that way you can see the issue,” Kankri adds, oblivious to your wildly shifting attention. He’s definitely warming to his topic, chin tilted up, eyes half-closing, hands gesturing. “Governmental control of reproduction creates a fundamental power imbalance between the government and the populace—not just for trolls, but for carapacians as well. Even the human cy, in a way, since they could breed but not reproduce their technological alterations.”

The flow of his words doesn’t stop, but he does that thing where he peeks one eye open like he’s checking his lecture is having the appropriate impact. You’re still in the middle of mood whiplash—you give him blankface. Your mind buzzes, trying to catch up, slotting new information into place, chasing down implications.

“They can’t choose to walk away from their empires,” Kankri says, “—not and persist.” His tone picks up conviction and he leans in toward you almost unconsciously, hands gesturing. You’re transfixed, frozen. It feels like any action might break this moment, send you leaning in or bolting back, or startle Kankri into stopping talking, which is ridiculous, nothing ever stops Kankri talking, but you really, really want him to keep talking. You want to know.

“Only the unmodified human populace have that option, and they’re still recovering from perigees of heterospecific oppression and war. The lynchpin of societal control is always the next generation. If we—“

Something… shushes, a hushed, sliding noise across concrete, from just around the corner.

You’re muscling Kanrki back into the cover of the alley before you have time to process anything beyond your body’s immediate ‘danger, will robinson’ chemical shrilling.

Kankri stifles his yelp surprisingly quickly. He ends tense but silent, his eyes wide and bright and red on you, his pupils contracted down to points. His body has gone stiff and defensive from head to toe, a fact you can attest to because your rapid retreat left you both wedged tight against each other, pressed between brick and stone in the narrow confines of the alley.

You can’t breathe. You can’t look away.

His eyes are so close, his face is so close. A breath away, if either of you were breathing. You can feel the heat of him right through your clothes, the not-quite tremble of muscles drawn taut in a line up your thigh and abdomen. His hand, pressed over your heart, trying to keep some space, sears you like a brand. He could do some damage with those claws.

It sort of feels like he’s damaging you right now, burning you right up.

You sort of like it.

Can you panic on behalf of yourself and someone else at the same time? Because you might be about to flip your ever-loving shit.

Kankri’s eyes flick towards the mouth of the alley.

That sliding noise comes again, so soft you might have mistaken it for the feather fall of sand down a slope—a sort of swish swish swish of something moving back and forth.

You have heard that before.

“Dominion sanitator,” Kankri says, and it’s hardly more than a breath by your collarbone.

Oh, joy, more unfamiliar alien terminology. Not helpful, but at least it distracts you from the panic attack you are very much not having. You follow his glance toward the street ahead, but there’s nothing to see. Whatever’s moving out there (big, quiet—hunting?) is still a street over at least. Kankri does not look inclined to go out and say hi to it.

Where did you hear it before? You rifle randomly through sensory memories, frustrated for the millionth time at the lack of reliable organic sorting algorithms, trying to trace the source of the familiarity. It’s stupid how difficult it is, you’ve barely got a few pocketfuls of embodied time to dig through, hardly any time at all since you woke up in an unfamiliar body on an unfamiliar world…

…that’s it. The city that first day, on the roof with Seb, and questing through streets below, a ripple of white. A thing like some mad scientist crossed a centipede with a snake, and then in a fit of extra death-wishery, magnified it to parade-float size and set it loose on the populace. You’d suspected that one of hunting, too, feelers probing along the ground in front of it as it flowed through empty city streets.

You never did find any people in that city.

The noise seems to shuffle and slide past for a long time. Yards and yards of time. You wait, with your heart in your throat and Kankri pressed silent and trembling-tense against you, until the unseen creature becomes unheard once again. Until you’re sure it’s continued past your street and your narrow, tucked away alley, taking no notice of you, hunting blindly on.

Kankri wriggles against you (--um), prying his way out of the alley and free. “It’s gone.”

“How do you know it won’t turn around and come right back?”

He lifts his chin. “They’re engineered to remove non-carapacian sentient life from cities. If it had realized we were here we’d know because we’d already be dealing with it. They mostly make straight sweeps unless they pick up signs of life.”

That… does not sound like fun times. You wonder what would have happened if it had found you, heard you. Smelled you? If you’d actually been out in the street beyond to make a sound or leave a footprint or drop a scent trail for it to catch. If you’d been a few minutes ahead of yourselves…

Your heart clutches again.

“We need to find Seb right now.”

Kankri sucks in a breath, but doesn’t argue with you.

#cyberbunny au #kankri vantas #autoresponder #ar x kankri #hal strider #homestuck #ccwritings

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bhadpodcast · 7 years

Text

Best Listener

“Best Listener” is a weird superlative to get when you’re a closeted teenager in high school. Damon was pleased to get it, happy he’d made some sort of mark on his class body, something more permanent than they’d left on him. But still, it was a weird thing to actually think about. Best listener could also mean “Most Quiet” which could be construed to mean “Most Often Unheard” or “Most Misunderstood”. Either way it was a weird thing to contend with, to be called or thought of.

Perhaps though, since he was such a good listener, it’s the reason why Damon was able to pick out the irony in the honor bestowed to him. And besides, it wasn’t wrong, he was a good listener and his friends now told him all the time. And there were times he liked to be listened to, but he has his people for that. So he doesn’t need to talk so much. Mostly he listens.

“Twitter is weird, right?” Dylan is lying on his back and Damon is kneeling on the floor, arms wrapped around the boy’s thighs as he noses at Dylan’s ballsack and kitten licks his taint. He’d had to wax for a movie role and kept it up long after wrap just in case of reshoots. He’d be letting it grow back out soon so this was the last hurrah for a while. The grow back period was always a special form of fun for Damon. He liked the prickly wiriness and how the body stubble would feel against his chin, like a lover growing in their beard.

“I mean, like, Colton and I just had this convo about having Adele’s babies, right?” Dylan said, running his hand over Damon’s head, gasping lightly as he watches Damon taking one ball into his mouth. Damon knew the conversation. The show demanded that each of the cast get and maintain a Twitter account. Something about it being the future of celebrity/fan interaction and it’d be all the rage, Facebook for the common man! Interconnectivity within 140 characters! Damon didn’t know too much about it, just that Ashton Kutcher was hot.

(READ MORE)

Damon doesn’t reply, his mouth is busy anyway, so he continues suckling and waits for Dylan to continue.

“And so like, I’m literally saying that I -a human male- completely lacking of a cervix would have Adele’s baby. And the number one anatomy question? My fucking hips!” At the word hips, Dylan thrusts his slightly. He looks down at Damon apologetically who just smiles. Damon lifts up Dylan’s legs, bending them at the knee and reaches his tongue forward to spelunk in Dylan’s sunken place.

“The fucked up thing is that- shit!” Dylan cuts off as his head goes back and he sighs. His back is arched and his nipples are starting to pebble. There’s a tuft of hair regrowing in the middle of his chest. Damon sneaks a finger through it while the other joins his tongue. “Fuck, I love when you do that! I’m totally going to do that when- shit!”

Damon smiles smugly at the boy who comes down from his bliss rest stop and flips Damon off, grinning devilishly.

“I’m still a newbie, but I swear when I become a pro, I’m going to fuck you up.” Dylan says cheekily as he rubs his nipples and glides his hands up and down his sides. Damon glances into his sparkling eyes and nods.

“I’m looking forward to it.”

Dylan laughs in that silent, open mouth thing he does and lays his head back again.

“So anyhow… wait, what were we talking about?”

“I’m going to go with Nothing for $400, Alex.”

“Don’t be a dick, we were fucking talking about… umm, shit! Fuck, was it Shakira? Something about hips? “

“You’re so fucking high.” Damon laughs. He should know, he’s fucking high as shit too. Dylan shakes his head first and then thinks better of it, nodding enthusiastically.

“Okay, so yeah, I’m fucking high, but this isn’t weed’s fault, bro! This is why it’s impossible to have intelligent conversation with a tongue in your ass!”

“Oh, I don’t know. I’ve had some really cool conversations with your ass.” Damon quips with a bite to the inside of Dylan’s cheek. Dylan laughs brightly.

“Woah, really? What about?” He asks, unbothered. He’s fisting his cock slowly and holding his balls out of the way as Damon tongues around his rim.

“Mostly about what an asshole you are.” Damon answers with a smacking kiss directly to the boy’s hole. He looks up and sees Dylan peering down at him shaking his head.

“Damn, I walked right into that, didn’t I?”

Dylan’s been more open with him lately, about himself, which Damon appreciates.

“Nah, I’m just that smooth.” Damon edges his tongue along Dylan’s ring again, this time punctuating the ministration with a light blow of wind from his mouth. Dylan giggles.

“Yeah, I guess you are.”

“So you were saying something about having Adele’s babies?”

Dylan nods as though coming back online and grins, partially at Damon’s superior listening skills and partially at the act of his balls being back in Damon’s mouth.

“Yeah! I was saying the fucked up thing is that as long as it’s a guy and a girl, I can be as outrageous as possible and no one blinks an eye, right? But like, if I try to apply the logic that in order to be a pregnant male, Adele would have to have a dick, then it’s gay and everyone gets really weird.”

Damon looks up at the boy.

“Dyl, what the fuck are you talking about?”

Dylan laughs again and shrugs, “Dude, I don’t fucking know!” He sits up and scoots back to the end of the bed leaning against the headboard. He motions for Damon to move closer so he’s not on his knees at the end of the bed, instead laying in between Dylan’s legs. Thoughtful.

“I tried saying something to Hoech about it.” Dylan’s been more open about talking.. well not exactly about Hoechlin, there are times few and far between he’ll mention his name like this, but about his place on the sexuality spectrum at all. He’s working through it, Damon can tell. Trying to figure out what type he is, what he likes, where he fits, if that’s weird. “I said something later while he and I were at Colton’s -I think you and Dan were hanging out- and I was like,

‘I feel like if Adele did want me to have her babies, she’d be real gentle about getting them into me. Like, she’d take real good care of me.’

And I remember watching Colton who laughed like he was nervous, but he has that mask thing going on, you know? And so he’s doing that, but he’s watching Hoech who’s watching the game and just shrugs and says,

‘There’s artificial insemination, bro.’

In that weird, noncommittal way he has, you know? And like, you could hear a fucking needle drop and that’s when you called and me and Colty met you later.”

Damon nods (or rather, bobs), remembering the night. He and Dan had done some shopping for the show and later met up with Colton and Dylan. They’d gotten gelato and Dylan paid for it. Damon wasn’t sure why he remembered that.

“And it made me think -and this is where the me being super high part comes in- but like, how can you be gay and not like dick?”

This makes Damon laugh and choke slightly on the cock in his mouth. Dylan reaches out and instinctively grabs a water bottle from the side table. Damon waves off his concern, but takes a sip before leaning forward and fake strangling Dylan. The little imp is still laughing.

“Did that even make sense in your head?!” Damon yells, poking incessantly at the boy.

“I told you I was fucking high! But hear me out!” Dylan pleads, both hands up and his bambi eyes in full defense mode.

“Okay, so like… what?”

“Okay, I know, but like, everything you can do with a guy, you can also do with a girl, except those things that require a dick, right?” Dylan tries to look matter-of-fact, but even he knows he sounds ridiculous.

“Well there are strap-ons.”

“Well yeah, but I mean, naturally. So it would reason-”

“Oh, so we’re using reason now?”

“Bro, shut up! This is so deep, I promise.”

“Whatever.” Damon lays his head on Dylan’s chest, thumbing the pouty nipple until it blushes and rounds out.

“It would reason, that if you were a dude and wanting to get up on another dude that it’s because you really like dick, right?”

“Well, I don’t know, Dyll, that might be the thing for you, but I guess, like some dudes like really manly, hair lumberjack dudes and some like them twinky, like you.”

“I’m not a twink!” Dylan insists, but laughs when Damon looks at him incredulously.

“I’m only hairless because of the movie, it’s growing back in!”

“Yeah, sure.”

“But I’m a top! Can you be a twink top?”

Damon thinks back to his twink days briefly before shrugging. “I think it’s different for everyone though. Like, some gay dudes don’t even like ass.”

“You see? That’s fucking crazy to me!” Dylan throws his arms up and ogles at Damon in disbelief, “Like, I’m not one to care all that much about labels, but how can you call yourself a gay dude and not like ass? I love ass! I love dick!”

“But you’re not gay.”

“I guess, but I’m pretty fucking close, right?”

Damon cocks a brow, “If Selena Gomez grew a dick you’d be all over that.”

Dylan opens his mouth to debate, but his eyes flick upwards, imagining some pop star abomination and he gapes. “Holy shit, and a beard!? Wait, I don’t know.. I think I may like girls for one thing and guys for another? But like, I wouldn’t be against testing that situation.”

“You’re so fucking weird.” Damon says shaking his head. He gathers Dylan into his arms and Dylan runs his hands up and down Damon’s body, pausing only to briefly grip Damon’s inner thigh.

“I don’t want you to tell me if you can’t, but like… is Colton gay? I never really thought about my gaydar, but I feel like, I could be a good friend to him, if I came out to him, you know?”

Colton was gay, but it wasn’t Damon’s story to tell. Colton’s waited his entire life to be gay and as long as he’s in Hollywood, he’ll wait longer. The day Dylan mentioned earlier he’d actually called Colton to go to an after party of some guy one of the crew of The Vampire Diaries had met at some gay bar in the city. Colton mentioned Dylan and they decided instead on gelato. Weird because Damon knew that Dylan would have loved that party. But these stories weren’t meant to be told yet. Damon just shrugs and looks at Dylan knowingly. Dylan nods and leans over, kissing Damon on the cheek.

“I love that I can talk to you. You’re such a good listener.” Dylan traces a finger over Damon’s eyebrows, clearly imagining someone else’s. Damon sighs. He’s happy Dylan can talk to him. He talks to Posey about pussy. Flirts with Hoechlin about sports. And he talks boys with Damon’s ass.

“You can always talk to me Dylan. Or not talk. Or I can try to make you speechless.”

Dylan’s eyes widen, but then narrow mischievously. He’s learning how to flirt with them. He’s a quick study.

“Sooo… I… Can I fuck you again? Doggystyle?”

“Whatever you want.” Damon replies, kissing him on the nose. Dylan quiets, gets contemplative in that way that he has.

“And if I say… if I say.. like, is that okay? I fucking don’t really want to be an asshole, but is it okay with you that I sometimes say his-”

“Whatever you need, Dylan. This is about you.”

Dylan looks at him as though a bit skeptical. Which surprises and only endears Damon more to him. He realizes he’s not lying. It really is about whatever the young boy wants and needs, about giving that to him. He kisses him soundly, their tongues mingling, Dylan’s searching for a memory of what he still thinks he can’t have and Damon’s searching for ways to make real a fantasy. It works, for a few moments Damon thinks it works though he’s never totally sure when Dylan falls quiet.

Dylan rolls them on the bed and kisses Damon again, holding him to the mattress with a firm hand anchored in the middle of Damon’s chest. He kisses his neck and then sits up, surveying the land laid out before him. He signals for Damon to turn over, which he does, and pulls up his hips. Damon rests his head on his forearms as he hears the click of the lube bottle cap and the rip of the condom wrapper. Dylan preps him in the sloppy, enthusiastic way that could practically be trademarked and finally enters him, bottoming out quickly and breathing hotly into Damon’s ear.

Damon can feel the tickle of Dylan’s growing in pubes at the back of his ass and apparently so can Dylan as he reaches back to feel where the two are joined.

“Fuck, that’s so hot. I wonder what it’ll be like with more hair. You’re less hairy than, fuck, I’m doing it again, aren’t I?”

“Dylan fucking move!”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Dylan pulls out slightly and snaps his hips in again, moaning obscenely, his head planted in the nape of Damon’s neck. As Dylan finds a rhythm his fingers graze Damon’s hairline in the back, following the ‘V’ it forms. The only other person on set who gets the V is-

“Hoech! Oh my fucking... Hoech-” Dylan sputters as he gets lost in whatever fantasy he’s in. Damon doesn’t bristle, just takes it, thinks of his own fantasies, maybe tries to ignore how Dylan is starting to make more and more of an appearance in them.

Dylan strips Damon until both are coming hard, their sweaty bodies shuddering with release. Damon knew well enough to put down a towel so he didn’t ruin his bed, and he’s using it now to quickly wipe down them both down as they position themselves shoulder to shoulder.

Dylan pulls out a cigarette and lights it, taking a puff before passing it to Damon. He gets it back and watches the revolutions of the ceiling fan above them.

“Speaking of beards… they.. they set up another date with that girl I told you about.”

Damon doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t really have to. Mostly he listens.

#dylanxdamon #dj

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violinsandmasquerades-blog · 7 years

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Well, I guess I shouldn’t procrastinate any longer. You all probably know by now that the library spelunking didn’t quite go as planned- going off of Many-Names’ watch, we were in the library for nearly a full day. I guess the rumors are right, time really does warp in there. Good for studying, not so great for expeditions.

The group started off fine, except for me. the plan was to put salt in our shoes to keep our path true, which in theory would have worked, except my growing fae-ness decided to rear its ugly head- apparently, I can’t touch salt anymore, which I figured out about an hour into this debacle when my feet started hurting like crazy. I took off my shoes and the soles or my feet were just covered in blisters, which made the rest of the trip completely miserable for me. I took off the shoes when we went forwards, though. A lot of our group had wards too, apparently, which I’m blaming for my migraine there. All in all, not a fantastic experience, but it was nice to hang out with some new friends.

Also, the librarians kept giving me dirty looks. Which I kind of resent, because I was the quietest one there! I even walk quietly! And the librarians are, quite frankly, terrifying. I’d just as happily never see another librarian again. Rose mentioned something about the library being “neutral ground”, so maybe that was it? Maybe the librarians weren’t comfortable with someone who wasn’t entirely human? I don’t really know.

I spent most of the time focused on trying to find some book that might help me with the whole thing, but came back emptyhanded. I mean, I didn’t really know what to look for, so I’m not surprised. But still. I hoped I would find something that would slow this down? Or maybe even stop it completely? But it looks like I’m shit out of luck on that front. I’ll just have to find something else I guess. If I even still care. I wonder how much my mind is going to be affected by the change, or my emotions, or morals or something. I mean, They have such a different way of thinking that I can’t imagine I’ll stay the same. Fuck. If I start changing, if I start acting more like Them, please. just, tell me. or remind me that im different . I don’t want to lose myself.

But I can’t just pretend like this whole thing has no perks. Like, it came in handy during the last part of the expedition- we finally found the cat, but we had gotten hopelessly lost (the library is like a labyrinth that moves every couple of minutes- I swear I could hear shelves moving and creaking as we passed them, and when we attempted to backtrack nothing was as we remembered it). We were running out of food, and honestly we were a bit desperate. As it turned out, the cat was Gentry. And, being as cats usually are, was obstinate and haughty. I swear, that cat thought he was a monarch, a cat-king. He would only talk to me; maybe because I wasn’t entirely human, or he thought others would lie, or he just was cat-racist? I honestly am not sure. Whatever his reasons were, I managed to broker a deal with him to lead us out of the maze-library. Which I don’t think would have happened if it weren’t for my whole transformation thing. So, “there’s a silver lining in everything” is the moral of yesterday, I guess? like, a really small silver lining, but it’s there nonetheless.

The reason I hadn’t updated since now is simple- I was fucking exhausted. That trip took a lot out of me. Also, my feet still hurt like hell. I think They have faster healing than humans, but apparently I haven’t gotten that yet, so I just have to wear bandages. If you see me on crutches, that would be why. :(

#update #spelunking #the search for terry pratchett #spelunking the library #deals

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cicadawhite6 · 5 years

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The Secret Life of Rats by Hunter Shea (@huntershea1)

Rats give me the willies. I know I’m not alone in feeling that way. When my kids were precious little darlings, they used to beg me to buy them a pet rat. They got a betta fish instead.

Beyond my natural ‘ick’ reaction when I see a rat’s undulating body loping down a subway track, I also can’t help myself from thinking of the host of diseases that rats carry and spread. You know, pleasant little things like hantavirus, hepatitis, leptospirosis, a fun little malady called Rat Bite Fever, or RBF, Hemorrhagic Fever with Renal Syndrome and this little thing called THE PLAGUE, just to skim the top of a very long list. They are deadly and they are everywhere!

All that being said, as a kid, I was fascinated by any movie that involved rats. Lucky for me, I grew up in a time when some of the best rat movies ever made were hitting the screen, from Willard to Food of the Gods and Ben. I named my hamster Ben. He was the meanest SOB that ever lived, with a taste for human flesh not seen since Jeffrey Dahmer. On a side note, did you know that a young Michael Jackson sang the theme song to Ben?

As a lover of nature gone feral, and sometimes colossal, the rat movies hit me the hardest because they made my skin crawl. I would literally screw myself up in my seat, yet unable to take my eyes off a swarming horde of vermin or rats the size of bulls crawling all over a cabin. I cheered on the giant ants in Them! and the killer rabbits in Night of the Lepus, but man oh man, I wanted those rats to be gone ASAP whenever they came on the screen. For me, they were the ultimate bad guy. Give me the devil and a head spinning possession any day over a box o’ rats.

Doing research for my book, Rattus New Yorkus, I sat down with exterminators to learn more about the very thing I wanted to know less about. It turns out that rats, especially the Norway rats prevalent in New York, are smart. I mean, the kind of smart that keeps me up at night worrying. How smart? If you lay out poison for them, they will send the weakest rat to eat it. Then, they’ll wait and see what happens to the royal taste tester. If it dies, they don’t touch the poison. Scarily, it doesn’t’ take them long to become immune to a new poison. I wish I could adapt as well to White Castle burgers.

They also learn how to avoid traps, that knowledge passed down to other generations. In the first chapter of Rattus New Yorkus, there’s a scene with a crafty vermin devising an ingenious way to avoid being stuck to a glue trap. I wish I had made that up, but it was based on a real life observation. I did not enjoy my time with the exterminators.

Oh, and rats are very, very good at multiplying. The little buggers enjoy making more little buggers, and they make many! A female rat can give birth four or more times a year, popping out a dozen suckers at a time. And it only takes a few weeks for the babies to be ready to make babies of their own. *shudders*

True story time A very good friend of mine had rented a tiny furnished apartment in the suburbs in the 90s. It was a total dive, but he was proud of it because it was all his. The first night there, he fell asleep on the couch. He was awakened when he felt something squirming underneath the cushion. He pulled it up and saw there were rats trying to get out from the nest they’d made wiyhin the couch! To make matters worse, more rats fell on him from a hole in the drop ceiling. He ran out of the apartment and lived in his car for a whole month until he could find a new place.

In this day and age, with exposure to everything on a 24/7 basis, it’s easy to become jaded. Scary books and movies have a harder and harder time eliciting chills to people who can watch a video of a person getting mauled to death by a bear on their phone. You need something that taps an instinctual reflex to cringe. Rats do that for me, and millions of others. If you think you’re NOT one of them, I have the keys to my friend’s old apartment.

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About the Author

Hunter Shea is the product of a misspent childhood watching scary movies, reading forbidden books and wishing Bigfoot would walk past his house. He’s the author of over 17 books, including The Jersey Devil (Pinnacle 2016)), Tortures of the Damned (Pinnacle 2015), and We Are Always Watching (Sinister Grin). Hunter’s novels can even be found on display at the International Cryptozoology Museum. The Montauk Monster (Pinnacle 2014) was named one of the best reads of the summer by Publishers Weekly. He was selected to be part of the launch of Samhain Publishing’s new horror line in 2011 alongside legendary author Ramsey Campbell. His video podcast, Monster Men, is one of the most watched horror podcasts in the world. Living with his crazy and supportive family and two cats, he’s happy to be close enough to New York City to see the skyline without having to pay New York rent.

Website * Facebook * Twitter * Amazon * Goodreads

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About the Book

Rattus, New Yorkus One Size Eats All #2 by Hunter Shea Genre: Horror

They’re Bigger Deep in the sewers of New York City, the rat population is growing. Dr. Randolph Finch is determined to break the cycle. His new rodenticide, Degenesis, doesn’t kill rats. It sterilizes them from reproducing. But nothing adapts faster than a New York rat . . .

They’re Smarter City exterminators and soon-to-be divorced Chris and Benita Jackson think they know how these rats think. They know how rats breed. And they fear that Degenesis has only made these rats stronger. More aggressive. More intelligent. And more ravenous than ever . . .

Tonight’s Dinner Special: Us After a noticeable surge in rat den activity, the Jacksons witness something strange. Without warning, the rats disappear—only to reassemble in a massive lair beneath Grand Central Station. Millions upon millions of them. Working together. Operating as a hive mind. Feasting on the flesh of the homeless below—and planning their all-out attack on the unsuspecting humans above . . .

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Excerpt

It was going on dusk when we got to the restaurant. Business at Pasta 13 was light at the moment. Restaurants didn’t get humming until at least seven on weeknights. I called the owner ahead of time and we met him out back by the dumpster. It wouldn’t do him good for his diners to see a pair of exterminators come strolling inside.

“You were here already today,” he said to Benny. The man was tall and thin everywhere except his hips. He looked nervous, but then he always looked nervous. Owning a restaurant was not for the fainthearted.

“We need to take a closer look,” she said, nodding toward the suitcase in my hand.

“Yes, but please, be discreet.”

“We take an oath of discretion,” I reassured him. He didn’t look reassured.

“Come directly to me if you need anything. My staff doesn’t need to know.”

I opened my mouth and closed it.

If his staff didn’t see the piles of rat shit everywhere, they were either blind or willfully ignorant.

“Let’s go down that one,” Benny said, pointing to the largest burrow. The edges were fuzzy, having snagged copious amounts of hair. That meant it was the road most taken for this nest.

“As you wish, Alice.”

I opened the case and assembled the camera. It looked like a snake that plumbers use to clear drains, with a fish-eye lens on the end. It hooked up to a small monitor so we could see into the den.

This time of day, the rats should have been starting to get restless, but they were more than likely still in the main nest.

“You want me to do the honors?” I asked, the camera poised over the hole. “By all means.”

I once had a rat jump out of a burrow just as I was about to drop the camera down. It landed on my chest, desperate to find the soft tissue of my face. Thankfully, Benny had swatted it away with a spade she’d been using to cover up some of the burrows. She’d managed to slice it in half like a samurai.

Warm rat entrails soaked through my shirt, but thanks to her, I was still pretty.

“Get ready,” I said.

Sometimes, when we went exploring like this, the rats would pour out of the other burrows and swarm around us in a frenzy. Our pants were tucked into our tough leather boots. Benny gripped what she called her swattin’ pole. It had once been a nine iron, the head replaced by a wood block, held on with a half mile of duct tape. What it lacked in esthetics it more than made up for in efficiency. I slowly snaked the camera into the hole. With night vision activated, we watched the black-and-white monitor.

What we saw was very similar to the video from a colonoscopy. Just traveling down a winding, dark tunnel.

A normal rat’s den contained seven or so rats. We had caught three with snap traps last week. Their dwindling numbers, especially if the Degenesis was working, couldn’t account for the growing feces.

“Expect anything,” I said.

“What?”

“Just ruminating.”

I pushed the camera deeper, kicking up a puff of dust deep in the burrow.

A rat’s twitchy face sprang into view. I instinctively recoiled, then recovered in as manly a way as possible.

“Say cheese,” Benny said, standing over me.

“You talk about my tired old witticisms.”

The rat retreated, tunneling backwards down the hole.

I knew I had to hurry up. The other rats would be ready to scatter .

Working the cable as fast as I could, I remotely spelunked, wondering just how far down they had settled in.

In my periphery, I caught a rat leaping from a burrow to my left.

Benny gasped.

“What?”

She pointed at the screen.

“Holy shit!”

I let the camera cable drop as if it were a poisonous snake.

We watched as dozens and dozens of rats writhed over one another. Every inch of the nest was packed with vermin bodies.

“Pull back a little,” Benny said.

“Yeah, yeah.”

I tugged slightly on the cable so we could get a better view.

“Look at all the babies,” Benny said.

“It’s like the maternity ward in Shanghai,” I said.

We were either looking at multiple litters or the granddaddy of all litters.

“What do you think? At least twenty?”

Benny peered at the monitor. “I’d second that. And they all look like they’re from the same generation.”

“I guess there’s no point in saying how impossible that is.”

“You guess right again.”

More adult rats were scurrying out of the holes around us. From what I could see, several had stayed behind in the nest to guard the babies.

“I don’t like this at all,” I said, moving the camera some more to get a different angle. All of it was being recorded.

“They like it less,” Benny said.

The camera’s intrusion had brought about sweeping panic in the nest. I almost felt sorry for the little critters as they sought refuge around the adult guardians.

“I think we’ve seen enough,” I said, pulling the camera out. “I’ll send the file to Ratticus, see what he thinks.”

“Stop, Chris.”

“Fine. Dr. Finch.”

“No. Put the camera down.”

“Why?”

I looked to Benny, whose eyes were wide and darting about. Following her gaze, the camera slipped from my suddenly milquetoast grasp.

We were surrounded by rats. A dozen pairs of marble black eyes locked onto us.

They weren’t running away.

And they were sure as shit not afraid.

Source: http://beauty-in-ruins.blogspot.com/2018/08/the-secret-life-of-rats-by-hunter-shea.html

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