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thirsty-pixie · 5 years

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To Hell and Back

Dean x Reader

Summary:

Reader is dating dean before he goes to hell the reader sold her soul to save her dad and meets up with dean after the hell hounds came to fetch her soul

Pain shot through my body and the knife cut into the sensitive skin on my stomach. "Please I cant" I screamed in agony as salt was pressed violently into the fresh cuts. The pain intensified as a hot blade pressed against my thigh, tears poured from my eyes the pain from my heart breaking was worse than the physical pain being inflicted on me.

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I stood in front of the demon my chest heavy with anxiety "You'll get 10 years then your soul is mine" the demon said again pulling me out of my panicked thoughts. "Okay let's do it. Where do I sign." I took a step forward and the demon smiled. "My deals are signed with a kiss"

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"Sammy behind you" I shouted at Sam who moved just in time dodging the vampire dove at him. Dean swung his axe severing the head of the vampire with a grunt, "is that all of the?" Dean huffed as he set the head of the axe down on the barn floor. I nodded letting out a relieved laugh.

I started hunting with Sam and Dean after I made the deal with the crossroads demon to cure my father of stage 4 cancer. He was all I had left but I got screwed his cancer was gone but he got possessed by a demon and got killed during an exorcism. After that I started hunting I was a huge amateur at it but I tried my hardest. That's when I met the winchesters they were working on a case in a small town I was hunting in. They showed up in the diner dressed up like FBI agents asking the waitress questions about the murders.

All seemed normal until they started asking about cold spots or strange smells, I knew then that these two weren't FBI agents. They finished questioning the waitress and headed out to their car, I dropped 20 bucks down for my breakfast and followed them out. "So you boys are investigating the murders" I smiled walking up to the Impala they were leaning against. The shorter one pulled out his badge "yeah we're sent from the bur- " I held up my had to stop him "look I know what you actually are" I turn pulling my leather jacket off my shoulder to show them my tattoo to protect me from possession.

"I was 18 when my father died.... he was killed during an exorcism. I've been hunting ever since." I took a sip of my beer and set it back on the table. Sam shook his head and gave me a look of sympathy "You've been hunting alone for 3 years". I shrugged "yeah I don't know much only how to kill a vamp and exorcise a demon" Dean shook his head and laughed you're gonna need to learn a lot more than that."

And with that I became the plus one to the Winchesters boys, Sammy treated me like his little sister but Dean was different. One night we were traveling to a new city to work a case of possible zombies, Sam was asleep in the back seat leaving Dean and I awake in the front seat to entertain eachother. "I spy something grey" I smiled looking at Dean he looked around "mmm let me guess the moon" his tone was sarcastic as he spoke. "Loser. Hey can we stop at the gas station I gotta pee" we pulled into the gas station "Are we there already" Sam sat up rubbing his eyes "Nah man stopping to pee and fuel up" Dean said shutting off the car. I went inside first as dean began to fuel up. There was no line for the girls room but there was 5 people waiting for the mens room. I was in and out quick returning to the impala to chat with Dean.

I leaned against baby smiling at Dean who was talking about one of his hunting stories from when he was with his dad. We were waiting for Sam to use the bathroom and Dean to finish fueling up before we left. Dean kept getting closer as he talked till we were standing inches from each other. I laughed nervously looking up at Dean, I bit my lip slightly not realizing it. His eyes looked down to my lips then back to my eyes before he grabbed the back of my neck pulling me in. Our lips crashed together in a frenzy of passion and hunger, my heart was pounding out of my chest his free hand found it's way to my hip pulling me closer. Our kiss was cut short by the click of the gas pump telling is the tank was full. We kept our relationship quiet for as long as we could but everything comes out eventually.

Dean lay on the ground the hell hound had come for his soul, sobbing I pulled his lifeless body onto my lap. "DEAN. No you can't you asshole" I held him close as Sam tried to pull me off "Y/N he's gone" I pushed Sam away screaming "NO he's coming back! Hes not gone"

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I woke up and whimpered I had passed out from shock, I pulled against the chains that restrained me. I heard the familiar footsteps followed by the keys opening my cell door, Dean stepped in grabbing my arm and yanking me to my feet. "Dean please" I tried to beg him to let me be but he ignored me his eyes were glossy as if he were going to cry. I had been in hell for what felt like 10 years and their idea of torture was to have the love of my life hurt me in ways that would make a cereal killer flinch. Dean was ruthless as he tortured me but nothing he could do to me could hurt more that the feeling of my heart breaking.

I trusted Dean. He enjoyed this, I was pulled out of my thoughts by a sharp pain from my leg. I looked down at my leg that had been twisted to a discusting angle, Dean had broken my leg with his bare hands. "DEAN! I know you're still in there. Please" I cried out in attempt to waver his actions only to receive a blow to the face with the blunt end of a knife. Hes enjoying this, "Dean please I love you I cant take it anymore. I'm begging you" tears and blood streaked down my face. Dean's expression softened a little showing the slightest bit of sadness.

Suddenly the room lit up a bright white light, I felt something grab onto me and pull me up.

I opened my eyes and all I could see was darkness and wood. Screaming I pounded against the wood in attempt to escape, Dean had used my greatest fear against me. One that I had told him to never tell anyone. "Hold on Y/N" I heard a muffled voice yelling followed by the sound of a shovel cutting through dirt. I had passed out from a panic attack before Dean had got to me, he pulled me out of my grave and held me close memories of the horrible thing he had done to me.

"Wake up please. I'm so sorry" he moves my hair out of my face kissing me several times in attempt to wake me. "I'm so sorry I love you so much" a tear landed on my cheek making me flinch causing me to wake up. I opened my eyes to see the love of my life the reason for my heartbreak staring down at me. I squealed and backed away falling backwards into my grave. "Stay away please. No more. No more." I put my hands up to shield myself from more pain. Dean looked at his hands that were shaking from anger, he had done this his actions caused you to cower away from him.

Dean slid down into the hole in from of my and gently pulled me to him. He hugged me rubbing my back "I'm so fucking sorry.... I don't expect you to forgive me. I love you" he kissed the top of my head his breathing was shakey hinting to the fact that he was trying not to cry. I had gave in to full blown sobbing in his arms we sat there in that grave for what seemed like hours before Dean spoke. "We need to go get out of here and get ahold of Sammy" I looked up at Dean whose eyes were overcome with sadness "you're right.... I love you Dean."...... "I love you too Y/N"

#dean x y/n #dean #sam and dean #dean x reader #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester imagine #supernatural imagine #supernatural #spn #hell #evile dean #demon dean

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rinjirenee · 5 years

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For The Best

Got some angst from a @swtor-prompts post. Today’s angst is featuring Veselko and Kaliyo and the “I’ve changed” prompt.

This takes place post-Ziost, and some time before the opening events of KOTFE. Veselko considers his next steps into the unknown, thinking of Theron, and confronting reality with Kaliyo. NSFW for some mentions of sex and sexy things.

Under the cut!

When he closed his eyes, he could still see everything turn to ash.

Alone in his personal quarters, Veselko laid in bed and tried to rest his tired limbs and his racing mind. The past twenty-four hours had wracked him, sapped his energy, but had left him uneasy and unable to focus. He had the mental fortitude to withstand many things, but witnessing an entire planet turning into a lifeless husk in a matter of moments was beyond anything he could have imagined.

The person -- the thing -- responsible had escaped, leaving everyone else with nothing but questions with no easy answers. Why had Vitiate done this? Ziost was largely a loyal Imperial base. If this could happen to Ziost, would it happen again to Dromund Kaas? To one of the core worlds?

Why?

He opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. The Phantom hummed through the emptiness of space. Everyone else on board had been eerily quiet since Ziost, perhaps not knowing how to process what had happened. It was as if the entire galaxy was holding its breath in anticipation.

And frustratingly still, there were powers in play that saw Ziost’s destruction as nothing but a distraction in their petty wars.

There was a comfort that some out there had enough sense to track down the Emperor. Lana was tirelessly working with whatever little resources she had, fueled by her disappointment in both Sith politics and herself. Veselko’s trust in her was still on a shaky foundation, but she was a credit to the Sith. They would need someone who would be able to question the Emperor, if only if they would listen.

There were intelligence rumors that Theron had been effectively grounded in the Republic. Whether or not Ziost was truly his fault, his recklessness had produced results in the past, and the galaxy would need someone with experience and ability to think outside the box. Veselko highly doubted that someone as stubborn as him would let something like a piddly administrative leave get in the way.

Veselko missed him. Every now and again, he remembered feeling Theron’s warm, comforting weight next to him. His sarcastic sense of humor, the way his lines softened when he was being honest, his gentle, shy manner when he didn’t know what to say. Veselko imagined him, the feeling of his body and the sound of his voice, when he pleasured himself, and the couple of times he’d had sex since that encounter in the shuttle to Yavin-4. He felt entirely dissatisfied with how things were left between them, and Ziost had been a poor remedy to that.

It was good to know that Theron was still alive, at least. In the chaos of the fallout of Ziost, it was impossible to account for those who were still left planetside. Reaching out to him in the short term was not an option, as their parting had been abrupt and Theron left no trace. Veselko could settle for the rumors to ease his mind… for the time being.

It had occurred to Veselko that his assignment as a double agent for the Republic would likely mean nothing in the near future. What good would be keeping everything a secret if Vitiate cared little for either side? Finding him before he could cause anymore damage was imperative, but Veselko would need help. He knew Theron would be up to the task, and if his trust could be earned, it would surely make for a better case to team up again.

He had a feeling he could attempt to reach out to Theron still, to let him know that despite everything that had happened, they could work together. They worked well together, and Veselko knew Theron would agree.

I wanted to tell him everything when I saw him again, Veselko thought to himself, staring into the void of his ceiling. There wasn’t enough time.

But Stars, it had been so good to see him again. He had been so afraid that they would be staring at each other down their blaster barrels. If there was such thing as fate, at least it seemed to be kind to them.

Veselko reached out for his datapad on the bedside table. Trying to contact Theron through Ardun Kothe would have left trails that Veselko would not be able to control, and the old man had never mentioned Theron before. It came to mind that Veselko could leave crumbs that someone like Theron could find, much like what had been done with Rishi.

We’re on the same side, Veselko thought to himself with a small smile as he rifled through small galaxy maps. It shouldn’t be this difficult.

The door to Veselko’s quarters suddenly opened. Veselko let the datapad fall from his hand and onto the bed.

Kaliyo’s slender frame came into the light as she stepped through the doorway, closing the door behind her. She was wearing nothing but a tanktop, briefs, and a hungry grin.

“Did I wake you up?” Kaliyo came forward and crawled onto the bed. “Or can poor baby not sleep?”

Veselko huffed and sat up in preparation for her approach, propping himself on his palms. “Come to rock me to sleep, have you?”

“Nah.” Kaliyo’s hands were cold upon Veselko’s bare chest as she straddled him over the blanket, and his breath hitched in response. “Gonna need you awake. How convenient that I get to skip a step. For me, anyway.” She chuckled to herself as she leaned forward as if to give a kiss, but her teeth graced the tip of Veselko’s nose.

She had not been drinking, which meant that she really was intent on sex -- otherwise, he would have refused straight away.

Veselko touched her wrist, took it gently in hand. “You waited a while.”

“You barely said anything when you came back.” She lifted her hand to swat his away.

“When has that stopped you?” Veselko grinned.

She wrinkled her nose and firmly pushed back into his pillow. “Whatever. I’m bored, and you’re--” Her blue eyes flickered over to his datapad lying beside him. “... Reading in bed?”

“A thought occurred to me to reach a contact. I was researching my options,” Veselko said, hiding part of the truth.

“Are they cute?” Her voice dripped with annoyance.

The corner of Veselko’s mouth tugged into an uneasy grin. “Maybe, but it’s not that type of call. It’s concerning the aftermath of Ziost,” he said with a half truth.

Not that he would have minded if it was that type of call. But despite his relationship with Kaliyo being open, Veselko got impression that she didn't much care for any of Veselko’s new comrades, nor did she seem to like what Veselko was getting himself into with them.

Kaliyo was quiet for a moment, and then she let her hands slide down Veselko’s chest and onto his stomach, her fingers curling against his skin. The sensation caused Veselko to shiver, and he felt his cock twitch beneath her, despite himself.

But the curve of her lips had turned into something of a quiet, hard line.

“...Why are you still doing this?” Her uncharacteristic quiet voice held back a growl.

“Doing what?” Any idea that he was about to be persuaded into sex fell away.

“I’m not an idiot, Agent,” she said, spitting his title like venom. “But maybe you are.” Her body was tensing up.

Veselko narrowed her eyes at her. “Stop being cagey,” he warned. “Out with it.”

She snorted, and then in a fluid movement, pushed herself off Veselko and kicked her legs over the side of the bed to sit. Her hands gripped the sheets in frustration.

“Kaliyo?” Veselko tempered his tone, concerned for her sudden aboutface.

He could see her jaw tensing in frustration as she fought her own words, but they finally came. “You saw what happened at Ziost. None of your fancy spy tricks are going to stop that shit from happening again. So why even bother?” She shot a sharp glance over her shoulder at him.

Veselko’s mouth opened, but no words came out.

She gave off a sardonic chuckle. “Got you. Now, tell me why you’re gonna put your neck out and ruin everything?”

“Kaliyo, you don’t understand--” Veselko shook himself out shock.

“What don’t I understand? I saw everything. And your stupid ass was in the middle of it. Why are you so eager to get yourself killed?”

Veselko took a deep breath before continuing. “I cannot simply let what happened go. We lost millions of lives on Ziost, but if we can find Vitiate and stop him now--”

“Stop him? With what? Your little blaster gun? Your pretty little words? Your…” She gestured to his groin.

“Kaliyo.” Veselko shook his head.

“Stop patronizing me, asshole. I guess I’m the only one thinking straight here.” She stood up, but did not yet make any motion to leave.

Veselko stared at the back of her head, and tried again to reason with her. “Kaliyo, if I don’t try to stop him, everything that I… that we’ve done up until now won’t matter.”

“Don’t give me that ‘we’ crap. That’s not gonna work on me,” Kaliyo said, her throat tight. “Besides, he’s not gonna come looking out in the boonies if we lay low for a while.”

“I didn’t think hiding was your style.”

“It is when I wanna live.” She snorted again, then seemed to stumble on her words. “Y-you don’t owe anyone anything, so why--”

Veselko waited a moment in silence, then looked towards his hands in his lap. “I’ve done plenty of wrong in my life. I owe plenty of people my best effort.”

“Shut up,” Kaliyo through clenched teeth. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. It took you this long to figure out you have some bleeding heart of a conscience?”

“I’ve changed, Kaliyo,” Veselko said quietly, looking back up to her. “I’m sorry. I have to do this.”

“Yeah, well…” Kaliyo shook her head, then headed towards the door. “I’m bored with you now.” She punched the panel to open the door.

The words stung more than Veselko wanted to admit, but part of him was relieved. He was in no mood to pacify Kaliyo out of one of her moods. His face had grown warm in the heat of the conversation, and he took a deep breath when he realized he was holding it.

Kaliyo braced a hand on the door frame and waited there for a moment, then pushed away and made her way to the back of the ship. He fully expected her to slip away for her own pleasure, as she was wont to do anyway. There was always the thought that she would never come back.

And perhaps that would have been for the best.

#rinji does prompts #OC: Veselko #Kaliyo Djannis #Theron Shan #veselko has such a skewed view on what intimacy and gentleness is like so this was a bit of a trip to write #his relationship with kaliyo is toxic but their feelings are real oh boy

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raccoonsinqueen · 7 years

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So Close, Yet... Part 4

Summary: It's a little hard working two jobs, but you manage.

Notes: Sorry no skelebros this chapter like what am I even doing

“Eyyyyyyy, dame.” The crass monster slurred as you set down his food. He was beyond wasted as his eyelids were half lidded and he was having problems remembering he had a tongue in his mouth. “Wwwwhat time ‘ou gettin’ off t’night?”

This was actually more than common. Mobsters that come in here would get drunk to drown out their criminal tendencies and moral ambiguity, and they would either pick fights, hit on you or Grillby, or bust into tears and tell you their life stories. You much prefered the latter one, seeing as it not only provided you with info, but you also liked hearing other’s problems and being there for them. You know, when they're not murderers or rapists.

But today it looks like you were going to have to deal with your least favorite. The ones who think their being suave.

“Much later than you will be awake for, sir.” You smiled.

“Awwwwww nah, com’on!” He swatted the air a couples times, and then a couple times more. “Ima show ‘ou the time of ‘yer lifffffffe.”

“I'm fine, thank you.” You rolled your eyes. Despite his non threatening appearance, you still couldn't help the unwanted feeling that his advances left up your spine.

“Heheheh...” The monster blinked at you. “‘Ou are fffiiinnnee. Very very fiiiinnneee.”

You almost laughed, “Thank you, sir.”

“Come wit’ me tonight!” He said, joyously, before he started hushing himself and leaned towards you. “I can chhhhaange your worrrlldd.”

“Uh huh.”

“Eva hearda pink botttles, dame?”

You wanted to laugh so bad, but you held your tongue as you heard Grillby call you in the back. “Y/n? Can you come here?

“Sorry, sir.” You winked at your patron. “Boss’s calling.”

“Noooooo,” The drunk monster protested, his forehead smacking to the table. “Come baaaaack!”

You ignore the protests that came from the monster and walked back to the counter, where your boss quirked a brow at you.

“What is it, boss?”

“I don't get why you talk to them, just ignore them.” Grillby said, his even voice ever so stern.

“Did you call me here to judge me or to tell me something, Mr. Grillby?” You teased poking at your boss.

“Tonight.” He ignored your pokes. “A reservation is coming at ten.”

“Ten? Why so late?” You knew why. To keep discretion.

“None of our business.” Grillby simply stated.

This could give you an opportunity. A reservation for Grillby’s Bar? It had to be some big shot bosses, with that kind of money, not to mention a reservation means big talk as well. If you could catch even just a couple snippets of their conversation as their waitress, it could prove very very usefull. Drug shipments, money laundering, maybe even human or monster trafficking? You’d be able to destroy them .

“What do we need to do to help?” You smiled.

“Make sure everyone’s gone by 9:45.” Grillby said. “You included.”

Oh, poo! Grillby, why do you always have to ruin everything! “Why? Don’t you need help?” You feigned ignorance.

“No.” And that was that. The unfortunate thing about Grillby being a monster of not many words is that he leaves no room for negotiation.

“Fair enough.” You said with faux smile. “Don’t worry Grillby, your best gal is in the job! Everyone will be out by 9:45.” It was times like these when you wished you could have some sort of fancy spy tech! You heard that the police have these cool gadgets that let you listen in on peoples conversations, like the radio or something alike. But where would you get something like that? The grocery? You don’t think so!

For just a second, you could’ve sworn you saw some affection in his fiery gaze, “Thanks, love.”

“Love?” The smile grew on your face as you leaned toward your boss, your chest of the counter. “Don’t tell me... Have I finally grown on you, Mr. Grillby? I have, haven’t I?”

The affection soon turned neutral once again as he turned back around, “Make sure to lock the doors save for the front door when you usher everyone out.”

“Aw! Don’t be so cold with me, Mr. Grillby!” You called back to him, the smile still growing on your face.

“You sound like Sans.”

It was cold. The air was frosty. You didn’t mind it, it heightened your senses and kept you focus on edge.

You were in a dark warehouse. Faint voices could be heard beyond the crates behind you, and you dared to slip past another row. Said voices grew louder.

“Ya got the stuff.”

Oh boy. Now we’re cooking.

“If you got the money, we do.” Ew. That voice sounded like the person was gargling an octopus. Weird.

You could hear footsteps coming closer to you. Some grunt or guard of some kind. You hid behind one crate, counting his steps along with your own calm, low heartbeat. You can keep this silent.

1...

2...

3...

Just as he stepped in your line of sight, you lunged for him as you grabbed his mouth and felt the flesh of his throat slice beneath your knife. He didn’t put up much of a fight other than haggard breath, but just as the deed was done, he went motionlessly, almost as if he was fast asleep.

Great, one down.

“Show me the cash.” You moved closer, slipping past one more aisle.

“Julius, come here.” You paused. Maybe that guy you just put to rest wasn’t Julius?

You looked at the body. There was a briefcase. So maybe he wasn’t just a guard, so what? People make mistakes!

“Julius?”

Nothing but silence.

You heard the gravel-like voice exhale, “I swear to... Tommy, Butch, go get him.”

Yes, please. You’d love to meet this Tommy and Butch.

Step after step you heard them... Closer and closer. The thrill was exhilarating, but you held no fear. You wondered why that was. But as said Tommy and Butch walked forward to their untimely demise, one seemed to have stepped right past your aisle without noticing a thing. You felt a little ignored, but you wouldn’t let it hurt your feelings too bad.

Mostly because the other walked right down your alley, as you hid behind your crate. Just as Julius you waited until he was just in your reach. The key was timing, the key was patience, you could only get those two from practice when it comes to exciting ventures like these.

And with one final step, you pulled Tommy or Butch down by the tie and slice straight up under his jaw. You were lucky he didn’t make a sound, but the skin under the jaw was always an easy access to the brain without having to deal with that nasty skull of his.

You set Tommy or Butch down slowly and silently, before maneuvering past your aisle. Now, you could let the other Tommy or Butch find you, but why do that when the hunt was so much more thrilling? Not to mention the fact that he might find Juli-

“What the f-!”

With a swift and graceless movement, you jumped out to wear the late Julius’s body was and stabbed the other Tommy or Butch’s neck in. You had been careless, you should’ve gotten to him faster. But he was still alive. He weakly tried to grab your wrist in an attempt to survive, but you stabbed him again and once more before he finally stopped moving.

His blood was warm even against your gloves. The warmth didn’t reach through your mask, but you knew it was painted in it.

“Butch?” The gravely voice questioned.

“What’s going on?” Ugh, there’s that gargling octopus again.

“This isn’t apart of- .... ” The gravely voice hissed, before stopping himself. “I don’t think... We’re alone.”

How cute. His voice sounded determined. Like he was going to do something about it. Fat chance.

“Cops?” The octopus voice questioned.

“Maybe.” You heard the sounds of guns clicking and locking. You hated that sound. The steps went light and near silent, but you could still tell where they were.

“Or maybe not.” You couldn’t help yourself, you had to say it. I mean, what else were you supposed to do, stay silent and ambush them? Not likely!

And in seconds gun fire littered the boxes, almost poking a thousand holes in your lovely red cloak if you weren’t so good at dodging them. You rushed out from under the crates and dove past the aisle in front of you. In one glimpse, you caught the remaining silhouettes. Three on the left side, one on the right. You must’ve finished off the right side’s men. Good for you.

And then you were back racing down the second aisle, gun fire trailing your feet, the sound deafening. But you knew it wouldn’t last for long. Bullets are finite.

Deciding to skip the last aisle, you jumped past the last crate and landed behind the man by himself. He turned around alarmingly fast, but you were even faster, grabbing him by the neck and using his body as your shield from the other bullets. You thought you were doing pretty well for yourself, until a searing heat clipped your side. And then another at your legs. And another at your shoulder.

You faltered. You... got hit. And it hurt ! You would commend them if you weren’t searing with hatred . Okay okay, calm yourself. No need to be hateful. You probably deserved that one. Heck, taking on seven armed mobsters at once? Have some temperance!

And just like that, the deafening sound of bullets ceased and was replaced with the empty and useless clickings of their weaponry. You threw the lifeless body in front of you down, but was shocked to see what was in front of you.

“Monsters.” You laughed. “No wonder you sound like you're gargling an octopus.”

The leader, a monster that looked like tentacles were coming from his face, shifted at the sight of the body in front of you.

You stopped yourself. “Wait. Was that offensive? That was probably super racist... speciest? Right. Sorry.”

One of the monster grunts, this one with looking like a five foot tall rat, stuttered to himself. “R-Red Reaper.”

“Oh?” You said, delighted. “I’ve never even touched a monster gang before, and even you guys know me?”

Octopus-Throat took a hesitated step forward, a hand on his large knife on his belt. “That’s right. You’re monster friendly, right?”

“Monster friendly?” You smiled. Not like they could see, with your mask and all. “Of course! Why would I have any reason to harm you?”

You could see the relief on their shoulders. But that relief was short lived when you lunged for Octopus-Throat, a long slash across his chest. Surprisingly, without hitting any vitals, Octopus-Throat let out a sharp yell that shook the entire warehouse before disintegrating before your eyes, startling his coworkers. Guess what they say about Monsters is true. All you need is intent to kill them.

“Except, you know, the fact that you’re all rotten .”

It was an easy fight. The other two monsters had tried to run. You locked all the doors before you came in, so it wasn’t too bad of an issue. They seemed to die with one hit. They were either really weak, or maybe intent really was a scary thing for monsters. No wonder they always seem to run from you. You were just too good at your job!

But now you were facing another problem...

Piles of dust.

How were you supposed to perch these up against a wall? Should you... Draw a picture of them in the dust sitting peacefully? No, that’d be weird... And also probably offensive again. Didn’t Monster scatter the dust of their loved ones over their most prized possession? Maybe they had their prized possession on them? Maybe you should just... fold all their clothes and stuff?

You exhaled. You had no choice, that was what you were going to have to do. Maybe nobody will think it’s too lame...

#mafiatale #mobtale #so close yet...#raccoon with a book

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grand-malice · 5 years

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Robo Ragtime Ch #1

Inkwell Isle; an island bustling with many fine folk. From the expansive beds of blue skies, to the far reaches of hell, such an animated locale never lacked for excitement. Within this land of magic lived two eccentric boys, known for freeing the souls of its denizens through their heroic deeds and their own misfortunes. Little did they know, their trials were far from concluded. And for one other, their journey was soon to begin.

“Aww, c'mon, Mugs. Can't we just sneak into-.”

“For the last time, Cuphead, we're not breaking into Dr. Kahl's junkyard. Those security bots would cook us alive.”

The Cup brothers trekked along the familiar, lush thicket, discussing their current predicament in the meantime. ‘twas not long until they came upon the verdant meadows, continuing along the path before them.

“You know how long it took us to make that soap box car? I'm not letting all that go to waste just ‘cause the mad doctor decided to scrap it for his ‘research’", Cuphead ranted, gesturing with air quotes all the while. “Ummm, isn't that why he did it, though?”, inquired his brother. “Oh no, Mugman.”, answered Cuphead as he leaned towards him. “There's a reason he didn't show up at the celebration that day. Probably has some beef with us after what we happened to his giant robot.”

“It was either that or have our own souls taken. Besides, we freed his soul as well.”

Cuphead turned to give his brother a questioning stare, leaving him in a stupor until finally, it hit him, “Oh wait, it was his robot's”.

“Exactly. That guy would sacrifice whatever being it had just to save his own skin. He's a real rascal, that one.”

“Yeah, I bet if we had our own, we'd be a whole lot nicer to him.”, Mugman remarked.

As this exchange transpired, they came to approach a bridge raised atop a running stream, lined with all manner of rocky formations. They started across the oaken walkway, each step creaking it all the more.

“Look, if all you're gonna do is listen to Elder Kettle and have our work be for nothing, go ahead. Me, I'm gonna get our car back!", Cuphead declared before marching forward, determination plastered on his face.

Mugman sighed dejectedly, troubled by this reckless streak on display. “Fine, I'll join you. But only because I can't let you go on your own. Not after you got walloped by Ribby and Croaks.”

“ Hmph, whatever you say, then”, muttered the red one, forming a furrowed brow.

The two continued their course throughout the islet, until the very first die house came into view. Cuphead, still miffed at the “protective” presence of his brother, felt his hand boil with a radiating orange hue, a building tension rigged to explode. He quickly turned, took aim at the nearby clump of forest, and released a charge shot with all the rage he could muster. As it vanished through the thick leaves, he let out a relaxed sigh, but not without his brother's eyes on him. “Something wrong?”, inquired Mugman with a concerned look. “Nah”, was all Cuphead responded with. It was then they heard a nearby clank, seemingly from that same foliage. Both turned towards the noise, taken aback by its sudden emergence.

“By golly, what was that?”, wondered Cuphead.

“How should I know? Didn't sound like any tree I've heard.” Mugman then motioned for Cuphead to come along. “C'mon, let's see what it was.” He immediately objected. “Hey, what happened to taking back our kart?”

“That can wait. For now, we need to check out what the noise was.” Cuphead simply rolled his eyes and tagged along.

After a few moments of brushing aside any wayward shrubbery, they soon came upon a small clearing, previously unknown to either of them. As the two took continuous glances of this untouched glade, Cuphead was the first to spot a small hill erected at its center, where the sun's glow gleamed the brightest. Atop this miniature summit was a peculiar, oblong structure draped with tinges of greenery, effectively masking its true appearance. “Hey, Mug, look there. What is that?”, Cuphead pointing to the object in question. “Don't know. Could be anything.”

“Well whatever it is, it's long past due for a trim.”, he japed.

“Oh gosh, no. Job like that calls for the entire quartet”, chuckled Mugman as he stepped ever closer to this mysterious figure. His pace slowed as he began to make out finer features like its robust build as well as its box-like head. On its forefront was a mangled hatch, oddly captured in a square indent while enveloped by an alloy unlike the rest. After maintaining a fixed gaze upon the unkempt unit, he noticed an absence of vines on its midriff, a mark made in no small part by Cuphead's little "vent". Then, as if on cue, ”Hey, Mug. We gonna get going or what?”, yelled the excitable cup, snapping him out of his stare.

“But shouldn't we-.”

“It's easy.", Cuphead interrupted. "All you have to do is just go and give it a look-see”. He scurried over the looming hill and began inspecting this pile of scrap, sporting a most curious expression. As he noted its lifeless eyes and grated mouthpiece, suddenly the ground gave way under his misstep, causing the boy to grab at the robot's head before rolling down at rising speeds. Mugman flinched at this sight before leaping out of harm's way, leaving his sibling to slam into a nearby rock.

Cuphead's...head twirled from the ordeal, until a booming, metallic slam brought his and Mugman's attention to the summit. No sooner did they perceive the robot tumbling towards them than their fleeing from its path. Each impact dug through many a layer of earth, only to end when the same rugged rock stopped the careening machine dead in its tracks. Not a few moments passed when the stout boulder cracked, then crumbled into small chunks, leaving the two boys in a state of shock.

The absence of overgrowth surrounding the robot allowed for greater clarity. Before them was little more than a metallic corpse, void of any power, any life in its circuits. It bore retracted limbs in each socket, alluding to a miniaturized stature. Despite the veritable beating it had endured, there was no discernible damage found on the vessel itself. No cracks, no holes, not a dent on its smooth surface. This pristine condition astounded the children, their faces slack-jawed at this sight. "It's...just as it was before.'', Mugman assessed.

"No doubt about it. This is some strong stuff here.". A fleeting moment of ponder ensued between the two, after which their faces snapped upwards as they each gave a knowing smile. They then slowly faced their prize, both bearing the same thought in their unlidded minds.

10 minutes later

“Hhhhhnnnnghh! Put your back into it, Mugman!”, yelled the brasher of the two. “I'm trying, but it's just so h-heavy.”, he grunted, straining even his own voice. “We're almost home. Just a little further.”

“Really?”.

“Nah, it's still gonna be a while”.

“Ugghhhhh”, was what Mugman cried out before falling flat, his hopes dashed and his spirit quashed. Cuphead followed shortly after, filling the air with his heavy panting. They had dragged the inactive bot across the island, each lugging an extended leg over his shoulder.

“Look, if we make use of this thing's parts, we'll have ourselves a better ride than we did before.", emphasized Cuphead.

"Huh, thought you didn't want all our work to go to waste", mocked Mugman. "Hey, I know an opportunity when I see one.", retorted Cuphead.

"I'm sure you do", smirked Mugman. He turned to view the distance they'd gone, only to discover an unwelcome trail left by all their toil. He flinched in fear at this realization. "Umm...", was all could utter as he patted his brother's shoulder. He turned to bear witness to the same appalling sight, an upheaval of soil left in the wake of their dead weight. "We might have to change gears.", Cuphead stated while rubbing the back of his mug.

10 more minutes later

Unscathed was the ground beneath with their latest approach boasting faster results. The same could not be said for the sanctity of their home, for its atmosphere filled with the grunts of two boys hard at work, bearing the weight of the world upon their fragile frames; more specifically, the steel scrapheap perched on their sweaty backsides. Every step a labored shamble, their every movement a constant test of balance. Such an undertaking, while efficient, more so than their previous drag, threatened to crush the pair under its sheer weight.

As both boys laboriously carried the chrome cargo in tow, their eyes lit up as he spotted the cottage. “We're here!”, Mug exclaimed. “Finally!”, added his fellow cup. They then made their way to the entrance, where Cups promptly kicked open the door. "Okay, Elder's not back yet.", he observed, before moving further with Mugman.

"C'mon, let's...take it upstairs before he comes back.", bleated his brother, desperate to relieve himself of this bolted burden. As they came upon the stairway's base, Cuphead swiftly adjusted himself to better grasp the bottom side of their load. "Easy, now.", he instructed as they took each moment to make a watchful step. A painful process, which eventually saw them up the ascending steps.

As the crimson twin ever slightly twisted the knob, Mugman suddenly stumbled forward, running Cuphead's end into his face as he was abruptly pushed backwards. When he recovered, he noted his twin struggling to hold the machine in position. By instinct, he rushed to pull the robot's feet, simply to realize his efforts only extended their length. With one last mighty heave, their prize finally burst into their quarters, causing Cuphead to crash into the wall. A resounding thud followed suit, rattling the floor before settling down. Cuphead stood to see a fallen Mugman before asking,"You okay, there, Mugman?".

"Yeah.", he answered, trying to raise himself up. "We are never...doing that again!". Cuphead made his way to his heaving fellow, where he slung his arm over his shoulder and slowly walked him to his bed. He sat Mugman down, the latter falling onto his cushioned flat. Such was his fatigue that he refused to adjust himself, opting instead to rest for a spell in his misaligned position. With that, Cups collapsed on his own bed and was out cold in a matter of seconds.

After a period of well-deserved rest, they awakened to glance at the fruit of their labor. Wasn't long until a short grumbling was heard. "Think we ought to treat ourselves?", asked Mugman. A toothy grin took shape on Cuphead's face. "Does a pot boil with tea?", the other quipped, prompting a laugh from both boys. Enthralled at the prospect of good eats, they hastened downstairs towards the front door. Just as they reached over their hands, it suddenly turned open, alarming the two of their caretaker's return. They stopped in their tracks before an unmistakable figure entered, and spoke. "Back rather soon, aren't you, boys?" Cups gave a half-baked smile as he weakly waved, "Hiya...Kettle".

#robo ragtime #cuphead dont deal with the devil #chapter

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