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frosted-night · 3 years

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Jack Frost Designs Review

Yes it’s finally his time. This is going to include his book designs including previous incarnations in said books. There are more movie concept designs than book so, let’s dig in shall we?

This was in fact the first ever Jack Joyce designed while he came up with The Guardians Of Childhood. He even comes with his own backstory! (Which was cut. Sorry Joyce posts walls of text so it’s a girthy read.)

So instead of a young mischievous trickster, we got a much more depressing story of Jack. (Jack by default is sad obviously) but this one... It kind of hits differently and almost reminds me of the story he crafted for Pitch. A dad who tried to defend his family but through tragic events was ripped from them and changed completely. Design wise, he’s a lot more tree than snow. There doesn’t exist a colored version of this so we’ll never know if he sported winter and dull dead leaf colors rather than grassy greens.This Jack has a weird presence to him, I can’t put my finger on it. Rating: 6/10 He’s really neat! Just a little too Autumn feeling rather than a blend of both Autumn and Winter.

Nightlight feels like the baby evolution if Jack was a pokemon and that's what I’m gonna stick with. Below is a more recent version of him colored.

In all honesty that one is easier on the eyes proportion wise because sometimes Joyce has ‘interesting’ anatomy choices but we aint going into that today. It’s interesting how his hair somehow looks shorter and longer than Jack’s at the same time. Could be because the longer strands float seamlessly but star boy hair physics what can ya do. It’s a little hard to tell what is his skin and what is his armor, so that is a casuality in making a character only have one or two colors in their color scheme. I love other artist’s depictions of Nightlight but the canon one feels a little weak color wise. Rating: 5/10 Sorry, get some better LEDs and then come back.

Here we have a book Jack but I can’t entirely recall if this was used in the books or not. I digress. This design looks like him still wearing very Nightlight-esque armor/clothing and slowly growing into his new persona as Jack Frost. The intricacies are hard to make out but we’ll work with it. This one is very interesting to me because he very much looks like an older teen close to young adult. His hair looks very fluffy too. Not many complaints about this one but not much praise either.

Rating: 6/10 Not great but doesn’t stand out that much.

Remember when I said Joyce had ‘interesting’ anatomy decisions? Jack looks like he has half a head here and it bothers me GREATLY. This is the adult Jack design he went with. Supposedly he likes the opera and he sure looks it. This! Exists!! Kind of wish it didn’t. The outfit is nice but it just doesn’t fit Jack as a whole. This just screams to me that it’s someone else with a similar-ish hairstyle.

Rating: 3/10 Guess he’d be the...Phantom Of The Opera. (I’ll go home and so should he.)

And finally the final Jack. This is the one that almost exactly resembles the Jack we got in the movies(Probably because it was made after the movie but w/e) but just add a cape on him. I can’t really tell if hes got a hoodie and a cape, or just a cloak+hood on top of a sweatshirt. It isn’t too important because my thoughts on this one are obvious. Rating: 10/10 Edna Mode would have a field day with you boy.

MOVIE DESIGN TIME

Joyce claims this is a design he drafted when Leonardo DiCaprio was considered to voice Jack and I can kind of see that with how his face is drawn here. This Jack looks a lot more like a warrior and less of that trickster look. I can’t say I’m a fan of the weird antenna his hood has but his sword is really cool looking.

Rating: 4/10 Nice bow and sword but it can’t save your fashion choices.

This looks like a lanky 11-13 year old who would put rocks or slugs in my shoes and relish in my disgust. He has the exact look of a snot nose kid and I’m unsure how to feel about it.

His various hairstyles drafted here sort of make him softer looking or just more of a snot nose, no in between. Maybe even an Anime Protagonist.

The top right one almost looks like Hiccup from How To Train Your Dragon if you squint. It’ll be a little hard to rate them all as one individual but why not.

Rating: 5/10 I don’t hate them but they aren’t my cup of tea.

AH- IS THAT A FUCKIN GREMLIN?

Oh wait no it isn’t he looks like a 10 year old. Whatever don’t feed him after midnight. The staff’s design of not being shaped like a G is an interesting tidbit but the whole design looks like he’s really young or like a troll etc. This Jack looks like he thinks girls have cooties uses outdated slang.

Rating: 4/10 This is me being generous.

It honestly looks like he hiked his pants up all the way to his chest. A late teen with horrid fashion choices once again. Not many other thoughts here.

Rating: 2/10 Get a sweater on or something.

This is one is very interesting looking to me. His clothes looked a lot more leather based and very human-like. The tatters, tears and frays all make him look like he was a victim of an accident that never changed his clothes. It makes me wonder if this Jack had the same death as the final movie Jack or something else entirely. Either way, this one looks like hes a mid to late teen which really adds to my intrigue.

This was another image that greatly resembled the design so I included it here. It almost looks like his skin is blue here which is pretty neat to me at least. He’s also got leaf motifs here, which from the first Jack design Joyce made, we can see a pattern here.

Rating: 8 /10 I was originally weirded out by his head but now its not so bad.

This Jack is definitely dressed more like a nature boy rather than him having human influenced fashion and it’s an appealing touch. The tiny leaf sprouting from his staff is also kind of cute since the designers seemed to want to put leafs somewhere on his designs. His hairstyle is also very cute but it reminds me of Sasuke Uchiha in a sense. (Not a setback for me at least)

Rating: 7/10 13 year old Jack is going thru a phase.

I thought this Jack didn’t show up again in story boards but I was wrong!

They look a little different from each other but just similar enough to pair together, so bare with me. The first one obviously has looser pants, slightly longer sleeves and got his leaf motif going. This second Jack is a VERY green. It gives the impression that this Jack made his clothes out of plants and natural materials. Again I’m not wholly sure if greens fit his color scheme but they sure went for it for a while. I can’t say I’m a fan of it because it heavily reminds me of Peter Pan.

However a very similar looking Jack could be found in this storyboard. It doesn’t look as green as the other storyboards made it out to be and looks more like dead grass. Which is a pretty nice touch.

Rating: 5/10 I don’t hate it but it just doesn’t vibe yknow.

Speaking of a vibe...hoo this certainly has one. This Jack isn’t old but certainly doesn’t look very young, maybe in the 20-30 range, thats just me. He has facial features that remind me of Pitch but resembles the Jack Frost of Santa Clause 3

That being said, I wondered if him looking similar to Pitch was in the storyline of them being brothers.(Which was a scrapped thing, who knew.) He’s a bit more menacing in this design but certainly seems like he relishes in his work.

Rating: 4/10 I’d make it a lower score but I gotta give it props

NOW THIS JACK IS KINDA INTERESTING. This one looks like he’s 16 and going through a grunge phase. He’s gonna play Nirvana loudly and not turn it down even if you tell him too. His staff itself has mini icicles hanging off of it and leafs look stuck to his shirt. Did you glue or staple those on Jack? His hair also looks much longer than his other designs and I kind of dig it( Shut up I’m bias.) I’m not wholly sure why else this design has stuck with me but it just has something about it that I just love. I wish there was a full body drawing of it.

(He also kinda has the same hair as the Jack Frost in Runescape but I wont go on about that hoo hoo)

Rating: 9/10 *Bad Boy by Cascada plays in the distance*

This one definitely feels like middleschooler trying to be in a band. His sticks just resemble drumsticks to me what can I say. I’m a big fan of his shoes and his color scheme screams a hibernating tree in winter. His hair also looks like it’s covered in frost rather than it being wholly white, which is very neat!! He looks like he wants to fight but has slight hesitance. Overall a very balanced Jack.

Rating: 8/10 He’s ready for band practice

Not many thoughts here, I just found these tiny Jack designs cute. His hoodie being a jacket instead just adds to the charm of this one.

No talk to him he angy.

Rating: 6/10 fun sized boi

Now this Jack resembles the one earlier that dressed entirely in leather brown colors, however he clearly is different than that one. I’m gonna say it, he looks like a zombie or undead in this design and its pretty fucking gnarly. I don’t know whats going on with his hair but I’m gonna assume it’s just the wind making it look like that. He just has the vibe that he was once human but was turned into something else entirely. It isnt in uncanny territory but borders that. This version of Jack meeting Pitch and the others would have been *very* interesting. Rating: 7/10 Eat a twinkie Jack you’ll feel better.

The final design! I can’t complain much about this one. The way his staff subtly has a G shape and a hexagon(his signature shape) is a wonderful touch. Additionally, the way the frost is gathered mostly where his hand is such an intricate detail. His signature hoodie is iconic at this point so I can’t bad mouth that either.(I can’t anyway because there's no complaints from me here.) Although, I never understood the leather straps that his pants had or their functions. I couldn’t find any colonial outfits that resembled Jack’s pants so its a total mystery to me at least.

And I can’t go on about this design until I mention the snowflake pattern in his eyes

Pure beauty. It’s at a hue of blue that almost looks impossible to have, combined with the electric blue color of the snowflake in his eyes. The amount of detail in this movie amazes me to this day. Rating: One Great Blizzard <3/10

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scathecraw · 3 years

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BBRae Week 2021 - Day 1: Unconventional Kiss

Raven had been dancing around the issue for weeks now, and both she and Gar knew it. There had been a few near misses after a date gone well, a few breathless close calls during training, and one precipitous moment in the kitchen that fell apart when the smoke detector signaled their distraction.

They had been good dates. Very good dates, to be quite honest. Raven had expected that they would go nearly that well, and that had been why she had held off for so long. With all the emotional vulnerability and insightful talks and fantastic company and so many other things that came with dating someone you had been attracted to for years, she knew that the other shoe would drop, and she would have to just plunge in headfirst. And Gar had been patient – he wasn’t one to rush, especially with her. But he wanted it. And, god help her, she wanted it, too.

A perfect first kiss. The First Kiss, for both of them, hung up on each other for so long that they had never made any real attempts to find anyone else. Kori’s magazines had promised that the first kiss was always awkward and had to be refined by, hrm,repeated practice, but that was only a small part of the fear that gripped Raven when she thought of actually, really putting lips to lips.

It wasn’t Gar. She fully expected him to be just as bad as she was for a while (and likely longer given how quick she could pick things up). It wasn’t even what might… come after. Not as such. It was just… just… it was Important. Capital “I” Important – that things go well. Despite the promise of a bad first kiss by seemingly everyone who had ever kissed, it had to go right. Too wet or too dry, wrong head tilt, wrong duration, whatever – but she wanted to kiss him and do it over and over again and what if he didn’t want to or what if there was no chemistry or what if she sneezed or got so nervous she vomited or any number of things that would, according to all her latest nightmares, put him off wanting her the way she wanted him.

And he seemed so damn blithe about it. Like he couldn’t be less worried, even though she had felt his pulse race and could practically hear his internal monologue turning into a full blown soliloquy. He had that placid smile and those sparkling eyes and smelled like warmth and pine and it was so stupid how he wouldn’t just admit how nervous he was so they could be nervous together.

No, she had to be the mature one and feel all the butterflies for them both. She could practically hear his corny joke about never getting butterflies because he was vegetarian. Stupid Gar and stupid kissing.

It would happen. She would make it happen. And it wouldn’t be perfect, or probably even a very good kiss, but it would be right. Eventually.

____

There was an awful lot of noise and fleeing civilians for an evening out, even at the pier.

Nightwing sighed from atop his favorite ride at the boardwalk, the Ferris Wheel, as he retrieved his communicator and alerted the team. “Titans, we’ve got work to do. Something big is causing trouble at the east entrance. Star and I are on our way and will meet you there.” With that, he stood up in the precariously rocking carriage and Starfire lifted him by the arms, taking off in the direction of the disturbance. Cyborg, heretofore incognito on a date, immediately excused himself and waded through the crowds, shedding his holo-disguise. He was alerted to his passing teammates by a green blur, and called out to Raven as she passed, asking for a ride on one of her ink-black levitating discs. She obliged and they took off after Changeling’s racing avian form.

Gar was the fastest one to respond in these situations. Superhuman reactions and mobility got him to the trouble faster than any of his teammates, and he was proud of it. It meant that he was the first one to engage the enemy, which was a dangerous gambit when he didn’t know what the enemy was, but someone had to be first on the line when every second was a danger to innocent people. In this case, it was more an annoyance than any real threat. Kitten was throwing a very public and destructive temper tantrum, as she tended to do within a few weeks of release/escape.

Her on-again, off-again boyfriend, Fang, was nearby and suffering the brunt of the auditory assault while a swarm of mutated grubs ate their way through stalls and prizes alike. Kitten was waving the control device as she gesticulated wildly, and the chance to end the whole debacle in one fell swoop was too tempting.

Without waiting for backup or giving away his presence, Changeling darted forward as a seagull, beak agape as he neared the remote. He had timed it perfectly, if not for Fang’s suddenly outstretched spiderleg. The blow sent him tumbling into a pile of cheap stuffed animals and he transformed back into himself. The arguing couple immediately turned their ire on him without ever stopping their argument.

“And now look what you’ve done! Your stupidity got this idiot involved! Why couldn’t you just win me a stupid teddy bear like a normal boyfriend?” Kitten raged as she hammered at the controller, causing the grubs to turn their attention towards the dazed and prone Changeling. Fang launched webbing at him, working at cross purposes as the grubs and giving Changeling just enough time to roll out of the way.

“This is not my fault. You know these games are rigged! Why would I give the money I stole to these scam artists?”

“Because you are supposed to! It’s what boyfriends do! They do stupid stuff because I want you TO!” Kitten screamed and threw her remote onto the ground where it cracked and fizzled. Instead of the expected de-metamorphosis from vicious gnawing grubs to harmless caterpillars, there was a rumbling from deep inside the snack stall and a mass exodus of larvae from the vicinity. Gar had just gotten to his feet when a much larger, toothier, and more armored wriggler burst from the shoddy wooden confines, writhing and shrieking even more shrilly than Kitten, and headed directly towards her and Fang in a headlong charge.

Apparently Kitten’s shouting was enough to distract both of them from their imminent death by squirming tank, and Changeling had to make a tough split-second decision – let them suffer the consequences of their own stupidity, or put himself in harm’s way to save them.

It wasn’t much of a choice. Leaping forward, he transformed into a rhino, a fast moving locomotive of heavy armor and muscle and slammed headfirst into the tank sized larva, diverting it and being whipped aside by the unexpected followthrough of the tail end of the grub.

Raven’s disk touched down just in time to see his head collide with a thick support post that held up the boardwalk, and the sounds of argument fell silent as Kitten and Fang wordlessly assessed the situation and fled. Cyborg called out “Get B. I’ll get the worm,” and launched after the creature.

Raven raced to Garfield’s side, seeing the heavy gash and road rash from sliding across the wood. She assessed him as quickly as possible, noting the broken ribs, bleeding, and, most concerning, the lack of breathing. She channeled her power, reaching her soulself into the unmoving shapeshifter on the ground, and urgently repaired his most vital injuries.

The head wound would wait, they always bled more and looked worse than they were. First the broken ribs, eased out and stabilized enough to hold for a little while. Then the badly punctured lung. As the trapped air was removed and the hole patched, she expected him to cough, sit up, and make a dumb joke. Instead he just lay there, silent. His pulse was fine, and there was no reason for him to be so still.

She did all the steps that the Titans’ first aid training laid out for her, making sure his airway was clear, no pressure preventing his breathing or hidden wounds that would cause more damage, then started mouth to mouth.

It only took a few breaths, as if his body had simply not realized for some seconds that he was able to breathe normally again, before the first unassisted rasps began. Raven let out a sob of relief, feeling like his breath resuming was directly connected to her own oxygen. She continued healing him, clearing his head of blood and strengthening the broken ribs before his eyes opened with a groan.

“Did ya get the license of that truck that hit me?” he said, weakly.

Raven nearly hit him. “That was by far the stupidest thing I have ever seen you do. What were you thinking, charging in like that?”

“Aww c’mon, Rae. I had ta’. And I’m sure you’ve seen me do stupider things.”

“None of them had you puncture a lung and stop breathing, you fool. You didn’t need emergency resuscitation when you tried to do a standing backflip.” A jolt of power zapped him with an icicle of cold to the chest, and he coughed.

“At least I stuck the landing this time, heh. I think I can sit up. Thanks for fixing me up, Doctor Rae.”

She glared, and kept glaring as Nightwing checked in. Fang and Kitten had been apprehended almost peacefully by him and Starfire, and Cyborg had incapacitated the grub easily. She reported the situation, not once taking her eyes off her idiot of a boyfriend.

He rolled to his feet, only a little gingerly, and retrieved the broken pieces of the remote control for Cyborg to repair and reverse the changes to the swarm.

As he stooped down to pick up the last pieces, he stopped, and a look of realization dawned on him.

“Wait, you gave me CPR? Like, mouth-to-mouth?”

“Of course. You weren’t breathing and you needed oxygen before any working brain cells died.”

“Y’know,” he said, sitting back down beside her, “I think that counts as our first kiss.”

Raven went still. It couldn’t. It wasn’t even a kiss, it was legitimate medical treatment. But then again, it wasn’t very good, it was at a weird angle, and there was even the terrible fear that she’d vomit out of worry. It checked all the boxes for the perfect terrible first kiss.

He interrupted her musing, “Too bad I don’t remember it. Maybe we could see if trying again might jog some memories.” He reached his arm across her shoulders, waggling his eyebrows.

“Oh shut up,” she said, and pulled him in for a completely butterfly-free second first kiss.

AO3 FF.net

#bbraeweek21 #bbrae #day 1 #fic

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suituuup · 3 years

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pandemic shenanigans

Chloe discovers TikTok and decides to do a bunch of pranks on her girlfriend

rated: T

word count: 3k

ao3 link

It’s the pandemic’s fault.

Chloe was bored af one day at the start of quarantine, and decided to download TikTok, the app Gen Z has been raving about. Little did she know five minutes on the app could turn into four hours without her being aware and brought procrastination to another level.

She quickly becomes addicted to cute animal videos (duh) and couple pranks. So addicted that the temptation of trying a few on her girlfriend is too great.

i. Did you forget what today was

“Morning,” Beca mumbles, rubbing her eye with the heel of her palm as she shuffles towards the coffee pot. While Chloe’s an early bird, Beca rarely makes it out of bed before ten on the weekends, and Chloe is usually already showered and dressed by the time she does.

She and Beca live in that same studio which they used to share with Amy, until their Australian friend inherited some serious money and moved out.

It’s been really nice to have an actual bed instead of that crappy pull-out couch.

“Good morning,” Chloe chirps, craning her neck to accept the kiss Beca brushes to her lips. Beca slides in the chair across hers, pouring some milk in the bowl Chloe’s set out for her, followed by cereals.

(yes, she’s that weirdo who puts the milk first.)

“What?” Beca pauses with her first spoonful halfway to her mouth, finally noticing Chloe staring at her.

“Did you forget what today was?” She asks with a raised eyebrow, cradling her mug in her hands.

Beca blinks, and Chloe can nearly see the fuck popping up in her brain as panic flashes in her eyes. “Uh, Saturday?”

Chloe purses her lips, both to appear annoyed and to keep her bubbling laughter in. “Beca.”

Beca’s nose scrunches up. “I know, I know, gimme a sec. This is not our anniversary, or your birthday, you’re not working today so there’s nothing important regarding your job,” she lists off, her eyes lighting up a beat later. “Oh! Is it this weekend Aubrey’s coming up?”

“No,” Chloe sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I can’t believe you forgot.”

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Beca rushes out, standing up and crossing the distance between them to sit across Chloe’s lap. She kisses her softly, looping her arms around her neck. “I’m sorry. What’s going on today? I promise I’ll make time for it. And I’ll give you a massage tonight to make up for being a bad girlfriend. And we can eat whatever you like.” Smirking mischievously, she adds in a lower tone, “And, I’ll let you do whatever you wanna do to me later.”

Chloe grins, unable to hold it any longer. “Nothing’s going on, babe. I was just messing with you.”

Beca’s jaw falls open as she pulls back, glaring. “Not cool, dude!”

Chloe simply giggles, nuzzling her neck and pressing an apologetic kiss to Beca’s skin. “You’re cute when you’re panicking.”

A huffs puffs free and Beca pouts. “Whatever.”

Chloe tightens her hold around Beca’s waist so she can’t get away. “Can I still do whatever I want to you tonight?”

The whimper that rises from Beca’s throat shoots a chill down her spine. Beca’s cheeks redden and she squirms a little in Chloe’s lap. “Yeah--yes.”

Safe to say Chloe won’t be uploading that video on TikTok. She also won’t tell Beca this was a Tiktok prank, because this turned out to be a lot of fun and she’s got more up her sleeve.

ii. climb on their lap while they’re busy doing something else

Friday nights are Chloe’s favorite. As none of them work during the weekends, it means they get two whole days of quality time with each other. Tonight though, her highly professional girlfriend needs to take care of a few work things to make sure she can spend a stress free weekend, but it’s been hours, and Chloe is kind of craving some attention.

Beca’s working on her laptop while sitting on the couch, and after changing into her PJ’s, Chloe unceremoniously curls up sideways on her lap, looping her arms around her shoulders and resting her forehead against the side of Beca’s neck.

“Oh,” Beca breathes out, setting her computer aside before her arms loosely wrap around Chloe’s body. “Hello.”

“Hi,” Chloe murmurs back, brushing a kiss to Beca’s neck and releasing a soft sigh of contentment.

Beca’s hand runs up and down her thigh as she pushes a kiss to Chloe’s hair. “You alright?”

Chloe hums, forgetting all about her phone propped against one of the shelves capturing the moment to make a TikTok, instead basking in the instant comfort being in Beca’s arms provides.

Beca peppers her face with soft, featherlight kisses that make Chloe warm from the inside out. She really is a slut for Beca’s affection. “M’sorry I had to work tonight.”

Chloe smiles. “It’s okay.” She pecks Beca’s lips and brushes her nose against hers. “I’m heading to bed. Don’t work too late, babe.”

Beca nods, winking softly. “Right behind you.”

True to her word, Beca slides under the covers less than five minutes later and tugs Chloe’s body against her own. Chloe releases another happy sigh, which is cut-off by a yelp when Beca runs her freezing toes along Chloe’s bare calf.

“Becs!” She cries, moving away and slapping her arm. “Your feet are freaking icicles!”

Beca snickers like a teenager, seemingly very proud of her act.

“Put some socks on.”

Beca’s nose scrunches up adorably. “Ew. No way.”

“Then stay on your side,” Chloe grumbles, tugging the covers higher around her as she rolls away from Beca, settling on her opposite side.

“Sorry,” Beca whispers into the dark, shuffling closer. “I won’t do it again.”

She feels her resolve break as Beca’s lips trace a trail from her exposed shoulder blade to the side of her neck. She hates her traitorous body for not having any willpower when it comes to Beca’s ministrations. “You better not, or I’ll kick you,” she half-jokes.

“Kinky,” Beca breathes along with a soft laugh, pressing one final kiss to Chloe’s cheek as she drapes her arm around her middle. “I love you.”

Chloe laces their fingers and squeezes. “I love you too, weirdo.”

iii. walking out naked while they’re in a zoom meeting

“Well what doesn’t he like about it?” Beca’s voice carries from the living-room as Chloe stands in their bedroom, a towel wrapped around her naked frame.

That video of her and Beca cuddling on the couch blew up, hitting 3 millions views and about 400k likes. The few homophobic comments that popped up were quickly drowned out by thousands of people gushing over their relationship or crying about wanting the same kind of relationship.

Beca was of course aware Chloe would post that video on the internet and weirdly wasn’t opposed to it.

“Again?” She hears her girlfriend sigh and steps out, losing the towel as she rounds the corner. “I mean, yeah, sure. I’ll see what I--”

Beca’s words die on her tongue the second her eyes flicker up from her computer screen. Her jaw drops and her mouth gapes wordlessly for a few seconds.

Chloe is briefly concerned she might have broken her girlfriend.

“Beca?” Her boss’ voice carries through the speakers, snapping Beca back to her meeting.

“Yes, yeah-- um-- sorry, I…” She stammers as her cheeks burn, and clears her throat. Her eyes quickly glance back to Chloe, who is fighting against a string of giggles. “I’ll-- I’ll work on something else, no problem.”

“Alright, keep me posted.”

Beca nods. “See ya.” She shuts her computer so fast Chloe’s concerned she might have damaged it. “You’re evil,” she mutters, shaking her head.

“Are you complaining?” Chloe husks, strutting over in her birthday suit and tossing her phone on the couch.

Beca visibly swallows, bracing on Chloe’s waist as she settles down her lap. “Never. But next time try not to give me a heart attack?”

“Deal,” Chloe murmurs, bending down to capture Beca’s lips in a searing kiss.

iv. Ask them what they would do if they were at a party and a hot girl came up to them

“Hey Bec?”

“Mm?”

It’s a rainy rainy afternoon, the ones Chloe loves as they don’t have anywhere to be, and she gets to chill on the couch with her favorite person while listening to the rain pelting against the window.

Chloe’s head is on Beca’s lap as she lies on the couch, reading a book while Beca messes around on her phone. Beca has absentmindedly been scratching her scalp, and Chloe was about to fall asleep when she got a prank idea. She discreetly propped up her phone against her mug on the coffee table a minute ago, pressing record.

“What would you do if you were at a party and a hot girl came up to you?”

Beca lowers her phone, peering at Chloe over it. “What do you mean?”

Bending her knees, Chloe shifts to sit up and faces Beca. “What would you do if a hot girl flirted with you?”

“You know I don’t know when people flirt with me, right?”

Yes, Chloe does know. She lost count of how many times she’s flirted with Beca over their four years of friendship pre-getting together without Beca having a freaking clue.

“Okay, but still,” Chloe clears her throat and straightens a bit from her slouched position, tucking her legs underneath her. “Let’s say you’re at a party, and I’m a random girl, not your girlfriend, alright?”

Beca rolls her eyes but nods anyway, setting her phone down and angling her body towards Chloe a bit more.

Chloe props her elbow on the back of the couch and cradles the side of her head in her palm as she smiles softly, getting into character. She reaches out to run the tip of her pointer finger along Beca’s forearm while keeping her gaze locked on hers, her teeth racking over her bottom lip in an over-the-top flirty move. “Hi.”

“Hey you,” Beca murmurs with a small smirk, leaning closer a little. Chloe swats the back of her head. “Ow! What was that for??”

“It’s not me,” she reminds Beca as the brunette rubs the spot with a glare.

“Sorry, it’s just hard to remember that with those eyes of yours,” Beca laughs. “I can’t focus, they’re pulling me in.”

“Aw,” Chloe beams. She leans in to peck Beca’s lips, raising an eyebrow when Beca pushes her away.

“Dude, I’ve got a girlfriend.”

Chloe rolls her eyes, shoving her as Beca laughs. “Touché.”

v. ask them if they still get butterflies

“Bec?”

“Mmm.”

Spring morphed into summer. A hot, sticky and humid summer. The pandemic is still very much a thing, and Chloe can’t even tell you what day of the week it is anymore. To make things worse, their AC is down, which is why they find themselves on the rooftop of their apartment building that evening, laying on a couple blankets as they stare up at the night sky. Chloe misses the hundreds of stars she would gaze at when she was a kid in Oregon, but she sort of finds the steady sound of cars passing by in the street below them soothing.

Or you know, maybe it’s the joint she smoked twenty minutes ago with her girlfriend that is finally hitting her.

“Do you still get butterflies?”

Beca’s head rolls to the side so she can look at her. “Still?” She asks, smirking softly. “They never left.”

Chloe giggles, shoving her lightly. Beca is known to grow sappy and affectionate when she’s high, and Chloe absolutely loves it. “Dork.”

“Felt them just this morning when you were singing in the kitchen while making breakfast and almost pinched myself because I still have to wrap my head around the fact that I get to marry you.”

Chloe does a double-take as she registers Beca’s words. “What?” Her voice is barely there, hidden under the layers of emotions seizing her throat.

“Well… yeah,” Beca shrugs, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You’re like, it for me, you know?”

Moments where Beca splits herself open like that are rare, and they never fail to make Chloe’s heart soar.

“Are you going to say something Beale or keep staring at me like a weirdo?” Beca eventually quips, chuckling softly.

Chloe shakes her head a little, then leans forward to push a lingering kiss against Beca’s lips. “I love you, future wife.”

She feels Beca sigh contentedly as she curls up against her side, her arm wounding around Chloe’s back. “I love you, too.”

vi. sigh loudly in front of them

“What’s wrong?”

It’s day two hundred something of quarantine. Chloe is bored out of her mind.

“Nothing,” she whispers, keeping her tone unconvincing on purpose. She’s lying on the couch while Beca sits at the end working on her computer, a Friends rerun playing low on the TV.

Beca shuts her computer and sets it on the coffee table before crawling up Chloe’s body and settling on top of her. She presses a light kiss to the side of Chloe’s neck. “You sure?”

“Mhm,” Chloe hums, looping her arms around her girlfriend’s waist.

“I can stop working,” Beca suggests softly, placing another kiss to her chin, then to the tip of her nose. “Wanna go grab some Chick-fil-A? Then we can watch one of those cheesy rom coms that you like.”

“M’okay,” Chloe agrees quietly. “Can we just cuddle for a bit?”

“Yeah,” Beca breathes. “Course we can.” She settles her head on Chloe’s chest, lifting it a second later. “Wait, is this a TikTok thing?” Upon Chloe nodding, she groans. “My reputation is taking a blow with each one of those, you know that right?”

A giggle bursts past Chloe’s lips. “I’m sorry, your what?”

That earns her a glare. “Bite me, Beale.”

vii. wipe their kiss away

“I hate this fucking pandemic,” Beca grumbles as she makes it inside, kicking the door shut with a little more force than necessary. “I hate those Karens who don’t wear masks,” she continues as she hoists her two grocery bags on the kitchen counter. “Scratch that, I just hate people in general.” Beca eventually takes off her mask, heaving out a sigh as she drops it onto the counter. “Finally.”

Chloe smiles in amusement, walking over to start putting the groceries away. “Thanks for going out, babe.”

“No problem.” She pecks Chloe’s lips on her way to store the yogurt in the fridge, doing a double-take when Chloe wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. “Did you just… wipe my kiss away?”

“What? No I didn’t,” Chloe replies innocently.

Beca stares at her, cocking an eyebrow. “Was it not up to your standards or something?”

“I mean…” Chloe shrugs nonchalantly. “It was just a peck.”

“Mmm.” She resumes her task, closing the door to the fridge behind her before making her way over to where Chloe is standing, setting her hands on her hips from behind and coaxing her to turn around.

“What are you--” the rest of her sentence is cut off by a moan as Beca’s lips capture her own. Chloe’s knees wobble from the heat of the kiss, its intensity sending shockwaves throughout her body, all the way down to her toes. She’s left in a daze by the time Beca pulls away, blinking twice in slow succession as she rolls her swollen lips together. “Holy shit.”

Beca puffs out her chest a little, smirking. “That’s better.”

Groceries forgotten, Chloe slides her hand into hers and drags her to the bedroom.

viii. call them your spouse during a phone conversation

“I’m home,” Chloe calls out as she steps inside their studio apartment. She pauses in the doorway, taking in her surroundings.

Their small kitchen table is beautifully set, two candles lit on each side and a gorgeous bouquet of flowers sitting in the center. Soft acoustic music is playing through Beca’s portable speaker. “Hey, you.”

“What’s all this?” Chloe asks, smiling brightly as she slings her purse off her shoulder, setting it down.

Beca approaches, a sheepish smile spreading across her features. “Well… because of this freaking pandemic, we haven’t been out in months, so I thought we could just do a home-date. I ordered from your favorite sushi place, should be here any minute.”

“Aww.” Shrugging off her jacket, Chloe steps up to place a soft kiss to Beca’s lips. “You’re sweet. And very sexy,” she adds with an eyebrow waggle, taking in Beca’s fancy jumpsuit and hairdo. “I’m gonna go change real quick.”

Chloe hurries to the bedroom and opens her closet to pick something; she can’t remember the last time she wore a dress, her main outfit having consisted of a hoodie and sweatpants for the better part of the year. Plucking her navy blue, knee length dress out, she changes into it and takes ten minutes to arrange her hair and put on light make-up.

Beca is on the phone as she steps back out into the kitchen, grinning when Chloe appears. “Yep, got it. Listen, I gotta go, my wife and I are about to eat dinner.”

Chloe freezes mid-step, her heart stuttering as she registers the term Beca used.

“Sorry about that,” Beca says once she’s hung up, casting Chloe a smile as she sets her phone down.

“You just called me your wife,” Chloe murmurs, her eyes shrinking suspiciously a beat later. A gasp follows when it hits her. “Wait, are you TikTok pranking me??” Her gaze quickly sweeps the room. “Where’s the camera, Mitchell?”

Beca simply grins, shaking her head as she reaches for something in her pocket. “Not a prank, babe.”

Shocked eyes lifting from the square velvet box nestled in Beca’s palm, Chloe watches as Beca steps closer and lowers herself on one knee. Her heart trips dangerously and she stops breathing altogether. “Bec, you better not be lying.”

The way she seems nervous all of the sudden tells Chloe this is definitely not a prank. “Chloe--”

“Yes,” Chloe croaks out, tears pooling in her eyes as her head bobs up and down in a frantic nod.

Beca’s chuckle comes out strained as she blinks back the moisture in her own eyes. “Dude, let me ask the question at least.”

“Sorry.” Chloe clamps her lips together and squeezes Beca’s hand to wordlessly let her know she may keep going.

“Chloe,” Beca repeats, her voice wavering slightly. “This year has been weird as fuck, and the most challenging one yet, but despite everything, I had a near constant smile on my face because of you. You’re my best friend, and the most beautiful person I know, inside and out.” She sucks in a deep breath through her nose, letting go of Chloe’s hand to open the box. Chloe gasps softly at the sight of a simple, yet elegant oval cut diamond set on a rose gold band. “Will you make me the happiest person on earth by accepting to become my wife?”

“Yes.” She tugs on Beca’s hand, capturing her lips in a searing kiss as soon as she straightens. “I love you so much.”

Beca grins against her mouth, backing away just enough to seek out Chloe’s eyes. “I love you, too.”

As she stands there basking in this new, overwhelming wave of feelings, Chloe decides that 2020 wasn’t that bad, after all.

#bechloe #bechloe fic #chloe beale #beca mitchell

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quinncupine · 3 years

Text

Obscured Chapter Eight: Belly of the Beast

Chapter Word Count: 6,440

Relationship: Izuku Midoriya X Female Reader

Previous Chapter: Seven

MASTERLIST

Warnings: Kidnappings, violence, language, blood, near-death experiences, drugs

I hope you enjoy this chapter! Let me know what you think!

...

A steel-toed boot to the chest woke Izuku up. He sucked in a breath and his eyes shot open. His brain felt like mush and every inch of his body ached. Something heavy and cold constrained his arms, hands pulled so far behind him that the tips of his fingers brushed against his shoulder blades and strained his bruised ribs. Layers of heavy metal chains had wrapped around him like a cocoon, which forced him to sit on his knees.

"Oh, looks like Sleeping Beauty finally awakes," an electronic voice mused. "Took your sweet time, didn't ya?"

Izuku tried to blink away the blurriness. He'd felt the effects of a sedative before; they weren't fun. If the chains weren't holding him upright, he would've fallen over. Through the pounding headache and general drowsiness, he managed to look up at his captor.

It was a mask he would recognize anywhere. Kabuki.

"You look dumbfounded." Kabuki crouched in front of him. "Or maybe just dumb."

He looked around, taking in his surroundings. In the dim light, he could make out steel beams in front of him. Two sets that ran parallel to each other, and lined by thick cement barricades. Two sets of rail tracks ran on either side of the beams in a large trench. He was sitting on the raised platform in what looked like some sort of abandoned subway station: complete with faded graffiti, piles of molded trash, and even a decayed staircase that went nowhere. A train whistled around the corner and a few moments later, rushed through, not bothering to slow down.

He blinked hard and forced his brain to start the gears. His memory was a little fuzzy; drugs tend to have that effect. How did he end up here? What was he doing last? He had left the hospital with you, that much he remembered. Then...then the car had been attacked. The bridge blew and you fell. You fell. The pieces slowly came together until they all clicked. His head shot up, eyes roaming around the rusted station in a panic.

"Looking for someone?" Kabuki cocked his head.

Izuku forced his attention back to him. "Where is she?"

"Ah, don't you worry about that," he shrugged. "It's just you and me right now. I wanted some one-on-one time with you."

Izuku flexed his fingers, another mini panic jolted through him when he didn't feel his quirk. "Why?"

"Haven't figured it out yet?" He stood up. "What a shame. And here I thought you were supposed to be the clever one. Hmm, maybe I gave you too much credit." He crossed his arms. "You don't even know who I am."

He tested the binds. With his strength gone and his head still a little fuzzy, it would be a lot more difficult to break free. He needed a plan, and fast.

"I know exactly who you are," he said.

"Oh really?" Kabuki laughed. "Do enlighten me then."

"You were the one who killed the Hashira. You also killed an officer, Officer Manaka. The two don't connect unless you trace back to three years ago." He explained as he wracked his brain for an escape route. "I looked into his records. He'd been receiving large sums of money for years from false accounts. The Hashira had him on their payroll. He would look the other way whenever they were involved and even helped cover up their mistakes. He was a dirty cop." He worked on getting his fingers free while he talked. "You were the first to figure it out."

"What's with the long story?" He put his hands on his hips. "You know, I've always hated how you ramble, it's annoying."

"The Hashira killed your family didn't they?." He said and Kabuki tensed. "It's why you targeted them. You killed Officer Manaka because he worked for them. It's why you killed any criminal you came across, warranted or not. It's why you became the Metal Hero Cobalt; to prevent what happened to you from happening to others. Isn't that right, Ikari?"

The two stared at each other in silence before Kabuki broke into laughter, which sounded pretty weird coming from an electronic mask. He pulled the long hood of his coat back before slipping the mask off. Blue locks of hair fell free, revealing the face of a young woman.

"Got it all figured out, huh?" She looked down at her mask. "I am glad you remember me. It would've been awkward if you didn't."

"You were a hero, Ikari," Izuku said. "Look at what you're doing, this isn't you."

"Don't pretend to know me." She narrowed her eyes. "Don't you dare forget that I'm not a hero anymore because of you."

"You know why." He said. "But that doesn't mean you have to become this."

"This?" A finger trailed down the center of the mask before she chucked it at him. "You're exactly the reason I had to do this! Everything that happened, everything that will happen, it's your fault Deku."

The mask bounced off his chest and landed at his feet. The empty eyes seemed to bore into him, mocking him.

"Blaming me doesn't make what you did any less wrong." The chains seemed to tighten around him on their own, but he still continued. "Those people didn't deserve to die. You can't play judge, jury, and executioner. You're acting like Stain."

"Stain?" She cocked her head. "You think I'm like Stain? He might've had the right idea, but he didn't know how to execute it properly. He killed any hero that got in his way...well, except for you." She tapped her chin. "You fought him the night he was captured, didn't you? Of course, that's not the official story anyway, but you were the one to take him out."

Izuku didn't say anything so she continued. "The problem with Stain is that he was too focused on the killing and not the actual changing. You should've been rewarded with taking him out, instead, you were threatened into silence and let that lava-brained oaf take all the credit. That's one of the many problems with the hero system. No one understands what true justice is anymore, instead jumping through red tape to make themselves look good. The wicked should be punished to the full extent. The heroes of this world need a major overhaul, and Japan will be the first to witness it."

"So you want to kill me, is that it?" He managed to slip a few fingers free. "And then what?"

"Ah, look at that, you got me monologuing." She chuckled. "You think you can get me to reveal my master plan? I'm well aware of hero tactics. Besides, what fun is there unless you figure it out when it's already too late? Let's see how much longer you can call yourself hero."

The ground rumbled as a train raced through the station on the closest track. The noise reverberated off the walls, making Izuku's headache that much worse.

"You brought me here for a reason." His wrist slipped free, but the rest of his arm was still trapped behind his back. "For some sort of retribution. Revenge."

"Oh, I'm not going to hurt you, if that's what you think." She bent down and patted his cheek. "No, I think you'll be more than capable of that yourself."

If she was going for ominous, she nailed it. Although he wasn't too sure of the 'no hurting' part. Villains don't just kidnap someone and bring them to an abandoned subway station in who-knows-where to have a nice chat. She was up to something, but the 'what' was still unclear.

The air beside them bent into a point before it expanded back out, bringing two people with it, both of which he recognized. A disturbing copy of himself holding onto what he prayed wasn't the real you. The 'what' suddenly became crystal clear.

"Gah, shit!" Fake Izuku toppled over, clutching his leg that had turned into a popsicle. "That damn bastard!"

You fell on your butt and scuttled backward, running into the decayed staircase. Your head swiveled around, taking in the new environment before finally landing on him.

"Izuku?" You asked.

All he could do was stare. You were still in your house clothes and slippers. Hair hung loosely around your head and he could see dark bags under your wide eyes. His escape plan just got upgraded to an emergency.

His face darkened and he turned his deadly glare on Ikari. "She's got nothing to do with this. It's me you're angry with."

Ikari looked over at you curiously. "Oh, but I went through all the trouble of bringing her here and you don't even say hello to your wife?" She headed your way. "It's awfully rude to ignore guests."

The chains dug into his skin as he struggled to free himself, he no longer cared about being discreet. One of the many parts bolted into the walls broke free. The chains themselves only coiled tighter, pressing into his lungs.

"Ikari, stop!"

She made a beeline for you with a smirk that spelled anything but nice. You used the broken down canopy that covered the stairs to pull yourself up and looked around for something to use for defense.

Ikari stopped short and turned to Fake Izuku, who was looking less and less like him by the second. Green hair had grown out to his shoulder and turned a rusty red. His muscular frame shrunk into more feminine shape. His face changed completely. The imposter wasn't a man at all, but it was someone you both recognized. You'd seen her enough on the news, giving the morning traffic reports from her helicopter. The same reporter who had gone missing, along with the helicopter that stole Izuku away.

"You're late Shizue." Ikari looked down at the woman.

Shizue, who was still nursing her frozen leg, looked up. "Well obviously I ran into some complications." She grumbled. "But I got the girl."

"You were supposed to get both." Ikari rubbed her forehead. "It was a simple snatch and run. Please tell me you didn't play actor again."

"What was I supposed to do? There were heroes there. You never said anything about heroes." She complained. "You said it would be easy, just off some officers and we're good to go." She got up and carefully tested her weight on the icicle of a leg. "Besides, it was a golden opportunity to try out my latest one." She held her hand over her leg and the ice shattered.

Ikari closed her eyes and shook her head before she set her focus back on you. "I'm glad you could make it Y/N. It wouldn't be any fun without you."

You glanced back at Izuku and noticed the mask lying on the ground next to him. It was a Kabuki mask. The same Kabuki mask that everyone had been working so hard to find.

"So you're Kabuki." You gripped the metal railing behind you. "Didn't expect you to be a girl."

She chuckled and leaned in close. "What? Ladies can't take initiative too?" Her hand reached for your chin and you pressed against the rail in an effort to avoid her. She snagged your face and forced you to look at her. "Do you know why you're here?"

You glanced at Izuku, who struggled in his binds. "To...kill me." The words were barely audible, but Izuku still seemed to hear.

He stopped struggling for a second to look at you, tears had pooled in his eyes and threatened to spill over. You two locked eyes. He was trying to communicate so many things with one look.

"Now why would I do that? You just got here." She pulled you off the stairs, slung an arm around your shoulders, and marched over to Izuku. "I'm sure you're dying to talk to him though." She laughed at her own joke. You did not.

She stopped a few feet from Izuku, who glared up at her. "She's innocent. Just let her go and I promise I'll stay."

Ikari frowned. "Innocent? What about all the others then? Weren't they innocent too?" She dug her nails into your shoulder. "Because of you, they're dead. Because of you, I couldn't save them. Because of you, I was forced to run while you went on to become the Number One Hero. A bit ironic, isn't it?"

She released you, only to grab your hair and yank you back into her so she could loop an arm around your throat.

"Call me a villain, I don't care anymore." From her sleeve, a thin metal arrow slowly slid out. "Titles won't matter for much longer anyway." She looked at Izuku. "You ruined everything I had achieved in just a few days." The sharp tip of the arrow rested just below your chin and slightly dug in. "What would you do if I ruined yours in just a few seconds?" The sharp tip tore through the skin as she drew a thin line across.

You frantically tried to tear her off with a terrified yelp. She didn't cut in very far, but it still hurt all the same.

Izuku went crazy, he thrashed so hard that three bolts ripped off the wall, giving him more room to move. The chains around him squeezed so hard he lost his breath, but it didn't deter him.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." Ikari threatened, lifting your head back to expose more of your throat. "Unless you do want me to kill her right here, right now."

"What do you want?" He stilled and gave his best I will destroy you glare.

"Hmm?" She tapped the blade against your throat. "I believe you already know that."

The blade retracted back into her sleeve and she threw you to the ground, by his feet. You scooted away from her, bumping into Izuku behind you. One hand held your neck and the other grabbed hold of his shirt. The small incision wasn't deep or all that concerning, even if it did dribble down in a steady flow. Cuts always bleed worse than they really are, at least that's what you told yourself.

"Are you okay?" You glanced at him.

He blinked. "Me?" He shook his head. "I'm so sorry. I'll get you out of here".

You nodded. If Izuku says he's going to do something, then he finds a way to do it. The problem was that doing just that would be a lot more challenging without his quirk, which was somehow being suppressed at the moment.

"Big words for a man in your position." Ikari pulled out a small pouch from her coat and tossed it between her hands. "But don't worry, I came bearing gifts."

She snapped her fingers and Shizue hobbled over to you and yanked you to your feet. You struggled against her as she dragged you away.

Izuku yelled at her, trying his best to worm himself out of the chains. The problem was that Ikari had full control over metal and any attempt he made at breaking free, she would only restrain him further.

With one of Shizue's legs still damaged, you exploited it and pushed into her as hard as you could. Her arms windmilled before she crashed to the ground. You had no idea what to do. Should you run and get to safety? That's what he would want you to do. Or should you try and free him? There was no way to get past Ikari, break the chains, and escape.

"Go!" He could see your hesitance. "Run!"

A mini tug-of-war battle waged in your mind. You would be no help if you stayed. But if you ran, would she just kill him anyway? It was a choice you didn't really have time to debate. Ikari brought you here for a reason: to hurt Izuku. Running was your best option. If you could just find some heroes to help, then you could help him. You took off.

Shizue clamored to her feet, muttering something about doing all the work and took off after you with a heavy limp. Even though her leg was messed up, she was still pretty fast.

Your first thought was the stairs, but one look at them and you needed to rethink. The entire thing had been sealed off with clumps of random metal all fused together. There was no way you'd be getting out that way.

Shizue grabbed your shoulder and pulled you back. You grabbed hold of the railing to steady yourself, but one of the poles snapped off and you lost your balance. You toppled into her and you both went down. The pole landed next to you, so you grabbed it and scrambled away from her. She grabbed your foot as you stood and you whacked her hand with the pole. She let you go with a scream and clutched her hand.

That was your chance, so you got back to your feet and sprinted down the platform. The station itself wasn't all that big and you found yourself at the end of the platform in no time, with no where else to go. As far as you could tell, the only exit was the blocked off staircase. Across the tracks was another platform with another set of stairs, but if the villains were smart, they would've blocked that too. There was another option, a much more dangerous option. You could always run down the tracks and try to escape through another station, but you'd have to be faster than a train. The horn sounded from the tunnel, yeah, there was no way you'd outrun a train.

The collar of your sweater was yanked back, nearly choking you as she grabbed you from behind. She had a handful of sweater, so you twisted around and ducked out. The fabric ripped and you stumbled back. Damn, that was one of your favorite sweaters too, Inko had gotten it for you a few Christmas's ago.

You didn't realize how close to the edge you were and one foot slipped off. Shizue was actually the one to save you from the fall. She grabbed your collar as you tipped off the edge, but didn't make any effort to pull you back up. Your fingers scrabbled at her jacket in an effort to hang on and your hand smacked the device around her waist.

The ground rumbled as the lights of the train flooded the tunnel. The tracks squealed as the train rushed into the station.

"Shizue." Ikari warned.

Shizue didn't take her eyes off you, a sadistic smile on her face. "Oops." She let go and you fell off the platform, right onto the tracks of the speeding train.

Izuku wrenched out the last of the bolts keeping him locked in place and fell forward, struggling with the coiling chains. He screamed and writhed, making every effort to escape, but without the strength of his quirk, he couldn't break out of Ikari's.

The train didn't even slow down and after a few moments, left the station. Shizue peered over the edge and crossed her arms. All that was left was a slipper.

"Shizue!" Ikari barked. "You idiot! That wasn't the plan!"

Shizue rolled her eyes, still clutching her hand as she made her way back over. "Chill out, geez. She was gonna die anyway."

"You are ruining my plans." She stepped closer to Shizue. "I don't care how important you think you are, if you do that again, I will kill you."

She narrowed her eyes. "Yeah? Well good luck finding someone else to make your supply."

The two women glared at each other before Ikari took a deep breath and turned back to an enraged Izuku. There was a murderous look on his face that even caused her some pause.

She knelt in front of him, dumping some shiny blue powder into her hand. "That's a bit disappointing, but at least I can still test my new blend."

"My new blend." Shizue mumbled behind her.

Izuku managed to get back to his knees, the chains struggling to hold him in. He was silent as he brought his head up, making eye contact with her. The air seemed to take on weight as his eyes bore into hers with such malice.

"Don't give me that look." She said, leaning away from him. "You know this is your fault Deku. Take some responsibility." She blew the powder in his face just as he headbutted her.

The bag flew out of her hand as she fell back, holding her nose. It was too late though, the powder clouded around his head and he gagged on it. He tried to hack it out, but powder clung to him, coating his mouth and throat. He choked and fell onto his stomach, face pressed into the ground.

Ikari stood up, holding her bloody nose. "Let's go."

Shoto gripped the wheel so tight, his knuckles turned white. They'd left the house once the police arrived to take over. Momo sat in the back with Inko, who had retreated back into her silent shock. No one had spoken a word since they left.

Ochaco had been carted away to the hospital. She'd lost a lot of blood and was barely conscious by the time the ambulance arrived. Shoto had managed to get a few key details from her and had sent Bakugo to the hospital to get the rest of the story.

The three of them were headed to the police station. It was clear Inko was also a target, which meant that she needed a safe, well, a more guarded place, until this was all resolved. At the station, she would have eyes on her at all times. Momo volunteered to stay with her until they found both you and Izuku.

Shoto's phone rang and he answered, the light of an oncoming car illuminated his face. "Chief, we're almost there."

"I've got officers waiting outside for you." Tsukauchi said. "Shinso's still here too."

He nodded. "We're ten minutes out."

He hung up and glanced in the rearview mirror. Momo was staring at Inko, who in turn, was staring out the window, gripping her hands tightly on her lap.

Another phone buzzed, on the seat between the two women. That was Ochaco's phone. It was left behind, so Momo had taken it for safe-keeping. A new text had come through. Momo wasn't one to pry, but given the circumstances, she allowed herself to look. It was only three words. She blinked and read them again.

"Shoto." Momo looked up. They made eye contact through the mirror. "I've got something."

Getting pushed in front of a speeding train was not a fun experience. Your back hit the tracks first, narrowly avoiding that third rail full of high voltage electricity. There was no time to think about the pain that sparked up your spine as you put all your muscles to work and rolled off the tracks, losing one of your slippers in the process. The train barreled through as you landed in the gravel, just inches from the tracks.

You laid there for a moment and let your mind catch up to what just happened as you watched the cars bobble through, the wind blasting your hair back. This wasn't the right time to sit and freak out though, they were still on the other side.

The two tracks were separated by a row of support beams and thick cement barricades. You jumped over one of the barricades and crouched as low as you could. It was wide enough to cover you, as long as they didn't come over to investigate. The train left, leaving a hollow emptiness to the station and you put a hand over your mouth to stifle your heavy breaths.

From the platform, you could hear the two villains arguing with each other, the words were too echoed to hear right, but they didn't seem happy with each other. There sounded like a small scuffle and Izuku yelled, the chains jingled. You didn't dare look, for fear they might see you. Right now, you were at an advantage, and you wanted to keep it that way. Just hide and wait for help, except no one knew where you were.

In your pocket was your phone, well your replacement anyway. The last one was still at the bottom of the river. Ochaco had given this one to you for the time being, in case of emergencies. This would definitely qualify as an emergency.

As quietly as you could, you slipped the phone out. This new one was temporary, which meant that none of your old contacts were transferred yet, and you never took the time to memorize anyone's number. Well, aside from Izuku's, but calling him wouldn't really help at the moment.

Calling was also a problem. It would be too risky to answer anyone's questions, they might hear you. So you'd have to settle for texting. You opened up the phone and almost let out an audible sigh of relief. There was one contact saved into the phone. Ochaco. She must have put her number in before giving it to you.

Your trembling fingers quickly typed out a message and sent it. SOS can't talk.

The station had gone eerily silent, aside from the constant hissing and distant sounds of horns. No voices, no chains, nothing.

The phone dinged and you curled around it, praying no one heard that. When no one came charging into view, you looked down at the response.

Tracking phone. Then a second message. Are you safe? - Momo

You blew out a quiet breath and clutched the phone to your chest. Momo had responded. She would know what to do and she would find you. All you had to do was hold out until then. The only thing that bothered you, aside from the obvious, was the silence.

A quick peek around the barrier and you saw the platform was empty, aside from Izuku, who was sprawled out on the ground, free of his chains. The two villains were nowhere to be seen. Had they just left? That didn't make any sense. Why would they leave when they already had the hero at their mercy? Something else had to be at play.

You focused on Izuku. He was lying face down, but you could see the rise and fall of his chest; he was breathing. Actually, he was breathing to much. It almost looked like he was hyperventilating.

On the phone, you typed out another quick text. Hiding. Two villains. Izuku's here.

After a few moments of watching him struggle to breathe, you couldn't stand it. The villains seemed to have left him for some reason and for all you know, he could be bleeding out, left to die. That was something you couldn't idly watch.

The phone buzzed again. Stay put. Let him handle it. We are coming.

How long would that take? Izuku could be dying and since they didn't come after you, there was a fair chance they thought you might already be dead. Maybe that's all they wanted. To kill you in front of him and then leave him to die.

He's hurt. You typed out.

Not even a second passed before she sent a response. Do NOT engage. Stay hidden.

That was easy to say, but what if you stayed put and he ended up bleeding to death, or died some other way? You might not have been a hero, but you were a nurse and you had to deal with the aftermath of battles and everyday accidents. This was what you were good at, and this is what Izuku needed, so you couldn't just stay hidden. But you did as she said, well, for the first two minutes. It was quiet, you were almost positive they had left.

You stood up, keeping low as you looked around. No one popped out so you hopped over the barricade. Your shoe-less foot stepped on something sharp and you hopped back with a quiet gasp. A small shard of glass stuck out on the bottom of your foot and you plucked it out. The ground was littered with dangerous debris, you'd have to be careful.

The missing slipper was still lying on the tracks, but it was shredded beyond use. Something else caught your eye, lying beside it. You limped over for closer examination. It was a small vial filled with dark liquid. It looked just like one of the vials on Shizue's contraption. You picked it up and the liquid sloshed inside. There was a label on the side with a word scribbled out in neat handwriting: Blacklash. That made no sense to you, but you slipped it into your pocket anyway.

The platform itself was about five feet off the ground. It took a few attempts, but you managed to crawl onto it. Another scan of the area and they were still nowhere to be found. If it was a trap of some sort and Izuku was the bait, then who exactly were they trying to catch? It wasn't you, they could easily find and subdue you without the elaborate scheme. It had to be something else. The other heroes maybe?

"Izuku?" You whispered, standing up.

His breath hitched and his back arched. He flattened his palms on the ground and pressed his face into the cement. A coughing fit wracked his body. There didn't seem to be any new injuries on him, well, no obvious ones anyway.

Since you already lost one, you decided to just take the other slipper off. You made your way over to him, one eye on your surroundings.

"Hey, Izuku," you knelt in front of him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Where did they go? What happened? Are you hurt?"

He refused to move, to look up at you. From his position, you could see the dried blood that coated the top of his head, mangling his hair. He was still injured from the crash and you had no way of knowing what sort of internal injuries he had. One hand clawed at the floor, nails scraped so hard a few of them broke.

"Izuku," you reached for him, but that same hand suddenly lurched out and caught your wrist.

Through his labored breathing, he managed to get a few words out. "Go." He said into the ground. "Get away."

"What?" You stared at his hand, the nails were bloody. "They're gone, we both need to go. Can you stand?"

He lifted his head. Dark spots of blue dust covered his face, mixing with his sweat. He locked eyes with you and you knew something was wrong, like really wrong. His pupils were blown, so much so that you could barely see any green left. His grip on your wrist was tight and it kept getting tighter.

"Ow," you hissed. "Izuku, stop, you're hurting me." You tried to pull away, but he wouldn't let go. You stood up and tried to pry his fingers off, but he was too strong. "Izuku, let go."

He grit his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut, pressing his forehead back into the floor. "G...go." He said that, yet he squeezed so hard, you felt your bones grind.

On the ground next to him was a small pouch, blue dust spilled out of the top. Those blue spots on his face looked exactly like Kirishima's after he'd been dosed with Kabuki's drug. You knew firsthand how volatile he'd gotten. If Izuku had been dosed with the same thing, then it didn't look good for either of you.

You gasped and fell back to your knees as your bone popped. If he squeezed much harder, your wrist would snap.

"Stop," you clawed at his hand. "Stop!"

He didn't even seem to hear you. His entire body trembled as he slowly pushed himself up; one hand still trying to dig into the ground while the other had an iron clamp on you. His matted hair fell into his face as he looked at you. The expression that crossed his face was something you'd never thought you'd see on him, much less directed at you: pure malice.

He twisted your wrist, drawing you closer and you yelped. Your panicked mind did the only thing it could think of. You slapped him across the face.

He momentarily loosened his grip enough for you to pull away. You fell backward and scurried out of his reach.

He blinked, staring at the ground, hand still raised, clutching nothing but air. It was like his brain was trying to calculate what just happened, and you weren't too keen on sticking around for him to figure it out.

As slow as you dared, you got to your feet, and took quiet steps back. You didn't want anything to set him off, and he was definitely way too unstable to talk with that drug coursing through him. You had to keep reminding yourself that the heroes were on their way.

Izuku let out a shaky groan and grabbed fistfuls of hair, leaning forward. It looked as though he was trying to fight against it, but drugs weren't something easily conquered. You would know, you'd seen enough overdoses come through your E.R. This was still a relatively unknown drug, that as far as you knew, caused extreme aggression.

The problem was that there was nowhere to escape too and very few hiding places. All the exits were sealed and most things had long been looted, leaving very little to work with. A deep horn blared from far off in the left tunnel; another train was coming.

The sound seemed to stir him. Green sparks jumped off his skin. His quirk was back, which was not good news for you. You needed a plan, and fast. Izuku lurched forward, his hands slapping the ground, cracks spiderwebbed out from underneath him. Then he looked up at you, eyes almost entirely black. He looked so un-Izuku-like that you could hardly believe that it was him.

A chill ran down your spine and only one thought came to mind: run.

Behind you, Izuku got to his feet and stumbled for balance. He looked almost drunk. No, that wasn't quite right either. You'd seen him drunk before, he would get all red-faced and giggly, not scary and demonic. This was a side to him you'd never seen before, and it scared you to your core. Even if he was weakened, he was still an incredibly formidable foe, one you'd never thought you'd have to face, yet here you were, running from your demon possessed husband, you know, like any normal couple.

Your phone! You dug it out of your pocket and called Momo. She picked up immediately.

"Y/N. Thank god." She sighed. "Are you okay? What's happening?"

A horn blared from far off down the tunnel as you sprinted to the end of the platform and glanced back at Izuku, who wobbled in place. "No, no. I'm with Izuku, but it's that drug, the same as Kirishima." Faded lights filled the tunnel. "That's why they left! I think, I think he's gonna..." You trailed off, grabbing your hair.

"I've got your location." She sounded so calm, controlled. "I've sent the heroes, they'll be there. Stay calm. Can you find a place to hide?"

"You're not coming?" A new spike of fear pierced your heart.

She was silent for a moment. "I can't. It's too far away, but I promise, help is coming."

"Too far?" You glanced down the tunnel, the floor rumbled as the train approached. "Where am I?"

She seemed hesitant to answer. "New York City."

"America?" You hissed. "How the hell-"

"A teleportation quirk, most likely." She said. "Just stay on the line, they shouldn't be too far off. Just a little longer."

A quick peek back at Izuku had your heart nearly leap into your throat. His eyes were locked onto you, face contorted into a menacing sneer, and lightning flickered off his skin.

"I don't think I have a little longer." You whispered.

He crouched and launched himself at you. For as clumsy as he looked, he was still extremely fast. You only had seconds to jump to the side or be smashed into the wall. Unfortunately, there was no more platform to jump on, which meant you hurled yourself over the edge, right onto the tracks. Something sharp stabbed your thigh and you cried out.

The train entered the station and you scrambled off the tracks, breathing heavy as it raced between the two of you, providing some temporary cover. You needed to move, to hide. Whatever had stabbed your thigh had left a sizable gash, but at least you could still walk on it, so that's what you did.

The only place left to really hide was back behind the barriers. You dove behind them again, hoping to god that his senses had also been dulled. He was the greatest hero in Japan and that title came with some serious battle skills, one's you certainly didn't have.

The train left and you covered your mouth to quiet your breathing. You had a death grip on the phone, but talking now would only reveal your location. Instead, you held it up to your ear, an almost inaudible whine escaped your throat.

Izuku grunted as he pulled himself from the dent in the wall, tile shattering as it fell out. You didn't dare look, but you could hear him shuffling around as the train disappeared down the tunnel.

"Momo." You couldn't help the pathetic mewl that puttered out. This was an entirely new experience. You'd always had that reassurance that if anything ever went wrong, Izuku would always be there to back you up. This time though, they'd turned this into some sort of twisted reversal. That single punch was meant to kill. If he got to you again...

"Hang on, hang on!" She'd lost that calm façade. "I'll-I'll figure this out, I promise!"

The crunch of gravel caught your attention and you pressed your back into the barricade. By the sound of it, he'd jumped off the platform, headed in your direction. A shadow loomed over you and you curled up against the barrier, praying to whatever deity that was listening, that he wouldn't find you.

A few tense moments passed before the shadow disappeared. Not a second later, the entire barricade was ripped from the ground and you fell back with a startled scream. Standing over you was a green-haired beast.

...

Tag list @miriobaby @dorki-c @awilddreamerwrites @thecindy @sailorstupidsblog @kehlaniwwe @kenmaskitten10 @slytherintothedms @chanyeoloml

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remmushound · 3 years

Text

Bay/rise 46!! @errorfreak88 @brightlotusmoon @digitl-art-monstr @selfindulgenz @dakotafinely @yarchurr @sprinklestheditty @sententiously-sarcastic

Content warning! Mentions of death and suicide

Shredder was fighting with everything he had to free himself. He thrashed around, spinning as much as the tight containment would allow. If anything, he looked like a housecat in a carrier on its way to the vet. The families from both worlds gathered around the containment, much to Shredder’s furious frustration as he tried to slash himself free, but the containment held firm.

“Release me at once!” He snarled, pressing his muzzle to the clear door that didn't quite look to be glass; it had a more pinkish tint, like everything else in this place did.

Mikey and Raph looked at each other, and then looked at Shredder. “NAW!”

“April!” Leo ran to O’neil’s side as she finally removed her disguise, then looked beside her with a more confused look when he saw Casey. “Casey? How are you here— how are you breathing?”

O’neil opened her mouth to show what looked like gum on her tongue. “The other Donnie made these.”

All eyes fell wide on Donatello.

“What? I had a few hours while Leo was coming up with a plan.” Donnie shrugged, “They’re just prototypes. You can keep the rest if you want— I got a dozen more of the things.”

“But how did you—?”

“It’s easy! You mentioned that they shouldn’t be able to breath in here and i figured it was because of the weird properties of the air, but clearly we could breathe here, and so could my April so I took swabs of all of our mouths and then I took a swab of their mouths, compared the differences, and isolated the isotopic signatures that they didn't have and applied that knowledge into creating a gelatin-based supplement, and I gave their bodies a few hours to process the change, and then tested it by putting them near Leo’s rift where the atmosphere’s of both places merged and they were doing just fine so I deduced that my genius worked and we followed through with the plan. Any questions?”

“Several.” Mikey raised his hand.

“Write em down when we get home and I’ll answer them then.”

“Hey— you ain’t got yo uh… shell thing on.” Raph commented when he came behind Donatello.

“Yes— it didn't work with the plan. I needed to make him think I was Leo. Colored lenses, man I tell ya, they’ll change the world! My battle shell’s back home so I’d really like to get back there like ASAP because I am feeling highly anxious right now.”

“For a second there I didn't even think your plan would work.” Leo laughed weakly and shook his head, “Good idea using Draxum!”

Leonardo didn't answer.

“Leo? Donatello asked.

Leonardo walked closer to the containment cell and placed his hand on it, staring in at the tortured figure of his brother. The creature was Shredder in both mind and body, no doubt about that. The armor, the metal ribs, those sickle claws were all Shredder! But the plastron, and those baby blues eyes belonged to Raphael and to see them on someone else— something else— made Leonardo incredibly sad. He wondered if Raphael could still hear him…? Maybe not. But Shredder certainly could, right?

“Can you hear me?” Leonardo whispered to the tank; his eyes locked onto the blue ones just beyond the barrier.

Shredder gave a low rumble and lowered his head to meet Leonardo’s gaze.

“You can, can’t you? I know your name…”

“I am the Shredder…” Shredder rasped quietly.

“No you’re aren’t. The armor is Shredder. I don’t know if you’re him anymore since you swallowed my brother, but you used to be Oroku Saki.”

Shredder visibly flinched at the name, snarling and pulling his head back into his armor as far as it could go. “Don’t say that name…”

“Why? It is your name, isn’t it?” Leonardo asked, “I know it because Draxum told me. He was just a kid back then, but he knows the stories. The stories of the great and noble Oroku saki.”

“What is he doing?” Leo almost snarled, but Draxum held out a hand for silence.

Draxum watched with the utmost curiosity, his eyes shimmering like rubies as he observed Shredder's reaction to every word being said.

“You led the Foot Clan over five hundred years ago, right? Your clan lived in peace, and you learned from the kappa. They taught you ninjitsu and you brought it back to your Clan, didn't you…?”

Shredder gave the lowest grunt. “I remember. I met them when I was young boy playing by the river. I gave them an offering of cucumbers, and as a thanks they gave me my first lesson.”

“I knew you remembered.” Leonardo said, his heart sparking at the implications of what it could mean, “I knew it! Your clan was so… honorable until a great evil came to your land, and you couldn’t fight it off. Do you remember what the evil was…?”

Shredder gave an evil roar and tried to charge the door, though he couldn’t get much of a running start to do any damage. Leonardo held his hands up in peaceful surrender.

“Don’t wanna talk about it! Completely understand!”

Shredder settled back down quickly.

“You must be in so much pain.” Leonardo shook his head slowly as he touched the glass. “Saki… all you wanted to do was protect your clan, and now you’ve had to fight this dark armor for… for years. You… you’re so tired and— and you can’t fight anymore and that's okay! You’ve been fighting for five hundred years…”

Shredder brought the nose of his armor to touch where Leonardo’s hand was, his eyes still watching Leonardo in a quiet observance.

“You don’t have to fight anymore— at least not alone! But Raph… if you can hear me, I need you to fight harder than you ever have. Please… if you d… don’t… then I’ll have to destroy you and I don’t think I can…”

Leonardo rested his head against the door, the coldness of the chamber like sweet relief from the heat of his body.

“I know it's still you in there. I can see your eyes! And I need you to fight this, because if you don't then you’ll destroy me because I can’t destroy you. And then Mikey and Donnie, our baby brothers… they’re gonna have to watch both of us die. Heh…” Leonardo laughed weakly as he wiped his eyes, a wavering smile trying to take hold of his face. “You hear what I said? Baby brothers. Donnie’s older than me, I know, but… it just felt right. Silly Leo huh?”

Shredder didn't answer.

“And not just them. Our father… our sister… our new friends. They’re gonna have to watch it happen. They’re gonna have to watch us die… so I need you to fight this. Please.”

Shredder stared, his eyes like icicles piercing through Leonardo like knives. Still he said nothing. He didn't move, hardly breathed. He just stared.

“Raph…” Michelangelo’s weak voice rasped suddenly, and Shredder snapped his attention to look at the approaching box turtle. Michelangelo was fiddling with his hands in front of him, his head low and eyes wide and sad. “Hi. It’s Mikey. Can you hear me?” He touched the door just as Leonardo was. “I really really want you back. I miss you.”

Shredder stared intently at Michelangelo. Michelangelo looked to Leonardo with a soft whimper, but Leonardo waved him on gently.

“D… do you remember when we ordered that Lou Jitsu video game and… and I really wanted to pick it up all on my own? You were so scared that I would get hurt, because I’m… little and stuff. I’m your baby brother! But even though you were scared, you still eventually let me go? And… when I did get in trouble like you said I would, you didn't yell or shout at me or anything. You just… gave me a hug and helped me! You didn't try to say you told me so even though you did tell me so. Do you remember that?”

Shredder gave a low rumble.

“Raph…” Donatello’s voice came this time, just as straightforward as ever but with a new, gentler tone to it if that were possible. “Do you uh… remember Mrs.Cuddles?”

Shredder gave a sharp growl and pulled back.

“Take that as a yes.” Donatello cleared his throat, “You know how it was my dumb idea for April to bring the doll over in the first place? Just to scare you like a jerk of a little brother?”

Shredder leaned closer once more.

“You… forgave all of us for it… even though it was our fault that the thing nearly killed our family and all of New York? That was pretty cool of you.”

“Red Rover?” This time it was April’s turn to approach, “You’ve always been a good big brother! I remember back when y'all were still eating dumpster scraps and I’d bring y'all snacks any time I could swing it with my parents. And every time, no matter how many snacks I brought, I never seen you eat one cause you were always too concerned with making sure your brothers got something that wasn’t gutter trash.”

Draxum stepped up. “When Michelangelo er… was helping me to change my ways… you hated me. Absolutely despised me, for good reason. I had done terrible things up until that point. Yet… when your brother orange begged you to give me a chance, you did. You didn't trust me, but you trusted him, and you gave me a chance. I thank you now…”

“And when Draxum threw me off a building and I could’ve gotten really hurt you… you dove right down after me. No hesitation, no panic. Just straight down after me and… and you caught me. I was being so obnoxious that day too.”

“My son… My Raphael…” Yoshi was the last to step up, his ears pressed back against his head as he smiled at the Shredder’s eyes. “I remember when you were small enough to fit in my hands. Oh, you were such a fussy baby! I would always sing you and your brothers the same lullaby my grandfather sung to me. You remember how it goes?”

Shredder didn't respond.

“I would hate babysitting beyond the Bon Festival. The snow begins to fall and the baby cries…”

The pupils of Shredder’s eyes dilated, filling almost the entirety of the dark space.

“How can I be happy even when Bon Festival is here…? Unwillingly babysitting thinking of days after mid-summer Bon holiday. The flurry of cold snow continues… and a baby repeating cries. Even come Bon holiday, what is so joyful, no clothes and no sash for attire. The baby is so irritable to cry. That baby’s crying annoys me. Babysitting for a whole day, or even more. Every day I grow thinner. Wishing to get back home in a hurry across the border. That’s my parents' home…” Yoshi gave the softest laugh as he finished the lullaby and wiped his eyes clear of tears. “Oh, how you all loved that song. I… was in a dark place back then— so resentful of where my life was. But you boys helped me more than I could ever thank you for. If there hadn’t have been the need to take care of you, then I… wouldn’t be here today. I would have… done something cowardly. But I’m so glad I didn't. So please, my son… Raphael… let me help you.”

#let us help you

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feverinfeveroutfic · 3 years

Text

chapter twenty-two: organs

*one of the few times i have to put up a smut warning*

One thing that Marla told them before they showed back up at the complex was that Alex could take to Belinda's bed, as long as he changed the sheets once the morning came given it was Friday and Belinda would be on her way home soon enough.

Meanwhile, it was almost two o'clock in the morning by the time Sam, Marla, Alex, and Chuck made the triumphant return to Hell's Kitchen, and at that point, the rain from the thick of winter was upon them. But despite the late time, Sam was wide awake and ready to do something she knew would get her away from Bill once and for all. It may have been the late time doing a number on her mind so to speak, but at that point, she would do anything to move her away from that old life, that old prison where she was far and removed from her friends and her parents. Her old home that had become anything but a home at that point and she would cross the line to ensure that it would stay that way forever.

Marla meanwhile struggled to take her keys out of her pocket: she fumbled them as she handled the one for the dead bolt. Alex lingered right next to her side so she could better focus on the keyhole.

“Put it in the hole,” Marla muttered, “c'mon, go in the hole!”

“It's the keyhole with the keyhole!” he declared right then, and Sam burst out laughing at that.

But they soon heard a soft click and Marla opened the door. The dark apartment showed no signs of life abound, and thus Sam's only conclusion was Belinda had gone back up to Albany and back to work up there. The perfect setting for them to do this.

“So what do you think we should do first?” Sam asked her once Alex had closed the door behind him.

“Well, let's turn on the light first,” Marla began, and careful not to trip over anything, she ambled across the room for the lamp on the floor there. The apartment filled with that familiar golden light.

“Seeing as it's late,” she started again, “Chuck, how 'bout you get yourself comfortable?”

“Gladly!” Without another moment's hesitation, he kicked his shoes off, and then Marla led Sam out of the front room and down the hall to that dark bedroom there.

The dresser closest to the door made Sam wonder what exactly her best friend had in mind at that moment.

“So what're you gonna do? You just gonna take Polaroids of me and Chuck in funky positions and then go with that?”

“Not quite,” Marla replied as she picked out a little black tape recorder from the bottom dresser drawer. She removed the protective cap on the lens, and then she gestured for Sam to take to the front room once again. Alex had disappeared from there, but neither Sam nor Marla saw him in the other bedroom on the way out from the hallway.

“Where's the little man?” Marla asked Chuck, who had taken his seat there on Sam's couch.

“He's hanging out with the kitty cat out on the porch,” he replied with a twinkle in his eye. Sam turned her attention to the door which separated the apartment from the porch out there: in the dim light from the street, she recognized Alex's helmet of jet black hair over the railing. The little sliver of gray shone under the dim light such that it appeared as an icicle from the ground up.

“I'll just put it here,” Marla told them as she set it down on the edge of the coffee table. She adjusted it so the lens was pointed right down to the floor on the other side of the room.

“So what should we do?” Sam asked her.

Chuck took to the floor, flat on his back and with his arms spread out before him.

“Take 'em off for me,” he commanded her. “We're gonna rip his throat out with this, Sammich. Rip out his throat and let him bleed out.”

Marla squatted down behind the coffee table and she kept her fingers over the two main buttons.

“Could really go for a ginger snap right about now,” Alex confessed from behind the glass doors.

“A ginger snap?” Chuck replied back.

“We had a few of those upon the most recent times we hung out,” Sam explained as she took a step back from Chuck and towards the front door. “I'm guessing he associates them with hanging out.”

“And it's early in the morning, too,” Marla pointed out, “—his little body's all out of whack.”

“Samantha Shelley and Chuck Billy make a porno, too,” Sam joked, and that made Alex laugh out loud. He clasped a hand to his mouth right then, even though he had no reason to with New York City all around them. Marla adjusted her spot behind the coffee table: not only was Sam about to make her debut as an actress but Marla her debut as a director and filmographer.

Sam peeled off her top and showed off her body to Chuck. He lifted his head and moved his hands right underneath the nape of his neck: he pushed his hair out from underneath so it all fanned out from the back of his head. She knelt down before him and he gazed up at her: a thick patch of wavy hair spread over one side of his forehead. She gazed into his eyes and he raised his eyebrows at her.

“It's almost Valentine's Day,” Marla announced to the tape recorder, “Miss Shelley—or rather Mrs—whatever the fuck his last name is, Bill, his wife—is about to get down with the Indian chief, and without his permission as well.”

Chuck gestured for her to come on closer to him.

“We're gonna have singing with no clothes on lessons,” he declared, and that brought a laugh out of both Sam and Marla; the former gave her hair a little toss back from the side of her neck. She reached for Chuck's shoulder but she had no idea as to how to do it right there on the floor. At least when she and Alex lay next to each other in his bed they were in the safety of a bed.

The same thing went for when she and Joey got alone together when in England.

“Get on top of me,” he begged her.

“I'll get on top of you if you show me how it's done, big guy,” was all Sam could think of.

She moved her knee over his waist so she straddled his body. She stared right into his face: the camera pointed right on her felt as though she was being put on the spot right then and there. She was about to cross so many lines right then and there with Chuck.

There was a soft clicking noise but Sam paid no attention to it. Instead, she moved over Chuck's body and came within his face. He reached up and fondled her chest with the very tips of his fingers.

“Yeah—Yeah—Yeah, right there, Chief,” she breathed out; it more tickled her than aroused her but she was on camera nonetheless.

“You like that, don't ya, baby?” he said with something of a grin on his face; Sam could tell he was trying really hard not to laugh.

“I'm going to leave the two of you alone,” Marla said in a singsong voice, and once she had gone back into the rest of the apartment, Sam turned to Chuck with her face as warm and red as a fresh tomato.

“Let's get on it,” he told her. Sam crawled over his body such that her hair dangled down onto his shoulders. He reached behind her and unhooked her bra so she had exposed herself to him.

She opened his jeans and exposed himself to her. If he fondled her then she should do the same thing for him. A little bit hard but she knew it would be enough for them.

He flashed her a wink, albeit with his right eye so it was out of the sight of the camera. Her knee obstructed the view so she could miss him, but it looked as though they were in fact doing it right there on the floor. She locked eyes with him all the while.

Every thrust of her hips she was right there right next to him. Chuck's chest rose and fell in heavy fashion as if it was genuine.

But they never made official contact with each other.

“Okay so like—like—like that!” he sputtered. “Here, Cowgirl, lemme help you—”

“Giddy up, ya dead horse!” she blurted out; out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Alex with his back turned in their direction. She raised her head and gave her hair a toss back from her neck. Even though she wasn't really upon Chuck's erection, the sheer excitement of being there right next to it was enough to get her going even more. She was so close to him that it proved to be enough. More than enough.

Add to this, the soft light from the lamp cast enough shadow over their genitals so it genuinely looked real as far as she could tell.

“Faster!” Chuck commanded. “Faster! Faster! Oh god, you do it like a pro!”

He breathed harder and harder, even though she knew he was faking it. Her necklaces clinked and clanked against each other with her movements.

A small fleeting thought ran through her mind that told her Bill would know the difference given he had two daughters. But then again, she was right there on the floor with Chuck, right there without Bill's knowledge, right there without a single prowess that indicated a good marriage.

Even Aurora and Emile wouldn't pull that on each other.

Chuck closed his eyes and lay his head flat on the floor as if he was reaching his peak. She gyrated her hips a few more times and then he gasped. He tilted his head back so those long inky black curls drifted right behind his head like the waves of the ocean.

“Okay, okay—okay, that's enough,” he begged her and she climbed off of him. She kept her bare back to the camera but she lingered before him so he could have a view of it. His eyes were hooded and his mouth hung agape, as if he had genuinely achieved orgasm.

“Did you come, baby?” she asked him with a devilish grin.

“Like hell I did, yeah,” he said in a broken voice. He let out a long low whistle and Sam stepped away from him. Marla had snuck back to the recorder, albeit with her Polaroid camera, and she kept her hand right over the button. Sam held still there right next to her as she pressed the stop button so it looked as though Sam herself had turned it off.

“Are we good?” Chuck called out.

“We are good!” Marla declared.

“Phew! That was unreal.”

“That all sounded like it was completely real, though,” Alex told him from the porch. Sam rejoined Chuck there on the floor, still with no pants on: her bra straps hung loose all about her arms and shoulders, even as she lay back down.

She had seen Joey naked and she had seen Cliff naked, but neither one of them held a candle to what she had done there on the floor, even if it was fake.

Marla held her Polaroid camera up to her face for the perfect shot.

“Some photos to show off to the whole wide world, too,” she declared with a devilish grin upon her face. Sam lay down next to Chuck with no clothes on as Marla flashed a pair of Polaroid pictures of them. Both photographs slid out from the slot on the camera's front and onto the floor by Chuck's feet.

“A little something for Testament's new album,” she added as he put his arm around Sam and held her close to his warm body.

“This is how you practice what you preach,” Sam proclaimed which brought a big hearty laugh out of Alex from out on the porch.

“How you practice what you preach and with your shirt still on,” Chuck added as he fondled the bottom of his shirt with two fingers.

“And that, my friends, is how sex is made into a weapon,” Marla pointed out as she took another photograph of them. “There's just enough of a sheen on your faces to make it look real, too.”

That third Polaroid fell right next to Sam's bare foot, and she sat upright for a better look at it.

Something about the lighting and the way in which it bathed over Chuck's body and his brown skin in particular. Maybe it was the fact that they had put on a show to get her out of an unlawful marriage, or maybe it was the fact that it was so late at night, but the sight of that photograph woke something up in Sam. Chuck himself then sat upright and fixed his pants even while there on the floor.

That Polaroid needed something more as she lifted it right off of the floor and examined it better. With her free hand, she brought her bra straps back up over her shoulders; and yet she set the photograph in her lap so she could hook it back up. Even though she didn't have her panties and her jeans back on, Alex stepped back into the apartment with Genie, who darted ahead of him and bowed around the corner to the hallway.

“Can you make a copy of this one?” she asked Marla. “I kind of want to draw it.”

Alex had a twinkle in his eye when she said that, but he kept on going into the next room.

“You wanna draw that?” Marla chuckled at that as she set the camera down on the table next to them. “I guess we should do more stuff late at night more often, Sam.” Her expression then turned serious. “Also—because you guys did a little hanky panky here on the floor, you might wanna take a shower, Sam.”

“We didn't have any contact with each other, though,” Chuck pointed out.

“Oh, you didn't?” She was amazed by that.

“No way. She got pretty close to me but—no cigar.”

“Wow!” Marla showed Sam an excited smile. “Do I see a career in acting for Miss Shelley?”

“I dunno, though,” she confessed with a shrug. “There's so much that I wanna do.”

“Right?” Marla extended a hand to her and she stood up right before her.

“Where are my pants?” Sam asked her.

“Right there.” Marla gestured to the floor right behind her, and she stooped down and she picked up Sam's underwear from the floor.

“Okay—don't touch 'em. I'll be right back.”

She made her way down the hall to the bathroom and ultimately the shower: she took off her necklaces and her bracelets and set them down on the counter top. If nothing, she got a free shower. Every time she closed her eyes and let the water wash over her, she pictured the act itself once again.

So close to that taut skin and there was nothing further than that. Even though it was fake, the very thought of the act itself had liberated her in a way: laying there with Chuck had set her free in the best way she could possibly imagine. More so than her drawing Joey or Cliff, or even laying next to Cliff in her old bed.

She had officially become the bad girl and the art vixen.

Once she had cleaned off and rinsed away all of the residue, she switched off the water, and then she climbed out of the bathtub and put a towel around her waist. Even with it being fake, to think that she had not only lost her virginity to Chuck but she did it in the most satisfying way possible. And now there had to be a way for Bill to witness it all himself, three photographs and all.

Once she dried off and put her panties back on, and she put her hair up in the towel, she made her way across the hall to her old room, now Belinda's room, but there was no way she could sleep on her couch that night especially with Chuck out there for the rest of the night. Alex meanwhile had taken to Belinda's bed: he sat there on the edge of the narrow mattress in nothing more than his own underwear and his shirt.

“Why'd you take your pants off?” she asked him in a hushed voice, and Alex chuckled at her a bit.

“Why not? It's not like we're gonna get caught.”

“You just wanna lay next to a girl who had weaponized sex, don't you?” she teased him.

“I'm gonna be perfectly honest with you, Samantha,” he started, “that was—that was something.”

“Did you see it?” she asked him, and he peered behind her to the door to ensure Chuck and Marla weren't eavesdropping on them.

“Only a small sliver of it,” he confessed to her. “Like—I happened to look over my shoulder at one point for a few seconds, but a few seconds proved to be enough, though.”

He chuckled at that and she took her spot right next to him there on the bed, and she adjusted the wrapped up towel upon her head.

“So you think I did a good job?” she asked him.

“I do, yes!”

“Do you think I could go into acting like what Marla said to me after the fact?”

“Maybe. It's definitely within you, and it's definitely without you, too.”

“You're something, Alex,” she retorted back to him, and with a shake of her head. “You are really just—something.”

“Something?” he echoed her with a single raise of an eyebrow.

“Yeah. Something.”

She eyed the tip of his nose and she never realized how full the end was before: like a little button.

She then stopped right in her tracks.

“Ah, shit,” she muttered.

“What's up?” he asked her in a soft voice, and she moved her head forward so the towel came unraveled down into her hands. Wet locks of dark hair fell over her face; she lifted her head so it all relaxed all about her shoulders and the sides of her neck.

“I forgot to call Eric,” she replied. “I promised him I would when we got here to New York.”

“Well, it's about three in the morning over there, though,” Alex pointed out as he rubbed his eyes.

“Could always leave a message,” she told him.

“Yeah, that's true.” He shifted his weight on the bed right next to her. She turned her attention to him. They were both sitting there in their underwear, especially her: at least he had his shirt still on. She thought about Joey and if he was really alright back at his place, back there upstate.

She meant every word she had said to him back there: she wanted to help him in every fashion possible. But she had to let him go if she really loved him, and she was sure that she loved him.

Sam kept her gaze fixed on Alex right next to her, right on his bare legs and those slender knees. Where Joey had those knobby knee caps and those sleek sinewy legs, perfect for running and moving fast along the ice, Alex's legs were pale and slender, and his thighs were rather narrow. Even sitting there next to her on the edge of Belinda's bed, he was statuesque.

“Penny for your thoughts?” he asked her in a soft voice.

They had traveled hundreds of miles together: it only made sense that she could respond to that in the best way possible.

“I wanna touch you,” she confessed.

“Then touch me,” he encouraged her with a little gyration of his head.

“But I also don't,” she added. “I want to keep you intact for the rest of your life.”

“But you also wanna touch me?” He raised an eyebrow at her again.

“Yes.”

“Then touch me. Get it out of your system, Samantha. You can do it above the belt.”

“One thing I did with Frankie once was run my fingers through his hair right before I drew him,” she explained, “I did it with Joey and Cliff, too. I saw it as a gateway into what I'm getting myself into.”

“It's like you're taking our rhythm,” he followed along.

“Exactly!” She raised her hands to the sides of his head as if she was about to run her fingers through his hair. But instead, she tucked his hair behind his small ears, which resembled to those of an elf. His face appeared rounder and softer than before, and his eyes stood out more.

“You look—so much better with long hair,” she told him. “I mean—I can kind of see a short 'do here, but you have the kind of face that's perfect for long hair.”

“What about shoulder length?” he asked her.

“Yeah, I can see it,” she said.

“I'm beat,” he admitted with a shake of his head.

“I was just going to say, you look tired.”

Alex rubbed his eyes and Sam slung the towel over the back of the chair before her. He lay closest to the wall and then she lay down right next to him.

Since they were in Belinda's bed, she kept her clearance between the two of them even once she turned off the light and she lay her head down on the pillow next to him. Alex sighed through his nose, and she listened to Marla and Chuck button up the apartment for the remainder of the night.

Even though the sun would be up within a couple of hours time, a little bit of sleep would help herself as well as Alex. A couple of hours proved to be enough for the mysterious man in her dreams.

She found herself back on the edge of that black ocean once again, right inside of the harbor as it was lit up by the fire opals on the bracelet Chuck had given her. The mysterious man took his seat right next to her on the edge of the heavy wooden dock: his deep hollow eyes looked on at her as if he was about to bestow final judgment onto her. She turned her attention to him and the large streak upon his head. He held something inside of his hands as he lay them upon his lap.

She brought her gaze to his palms and what lay there as the black waters swirled all around underneath their feet. Out of the corner of her eye, the water seemed to catch fire, or maybe the orange and yellow fire opal glints within it all. But she paid more attention to what he had in his hand.

He held out one hand and she made out the sight of the three black cherries there upon his skin. Their smooth skin glimmered and twinkled with the swirling waters underneath them.

“Take one,” he beckoned her.

“But they're poison,” she told him.

“Take one,” he insisted.

Nibbling on her bottom lip, she picked up the one cherry closest to her as the skin fizzled out and formed a deep haze, as if they were covered in black fur.

“They're poison,” she insisted.

“Take it,” he encouraged her. “You'll feel better.”

She held the cherry closer to her lips and she placed it on her tongue.

Sam awoke at that moment, and to bright white sunlight no less: she was alone in the bedroom, and as far as she could tell, she was alone in the apartment. She sat upright and swung her legs over the edge of the mattress. Her wet hair left a cold wet spot there on the bed sheet next to her: even if it wasn't Belinda's bed, she and Alex would have to change the sheets anyway.

Alex himself surfaced in the doorway with his pants unfastened.

“There you are,” he told her as he zipped up, “I was just about to see if you woke up yet. I guess Belinda's gonna be home in like an hour or so.”

“What time is it?” she asked him.

“Almost ten o'clock. Marla went to get us breakfast.” He eyed her bare legs. “You want your jeans?”

“Please.”

He doubled back into the next room for her pants and her top, and then he left the room so as to give her privacy.

Once she was fully dressed, she returned to the bathroom for her necklaces and then she headed into the front room, where Chuck had taken a spot on her couch, along with Genie: she rubbed on his legs and raised her head up to him.

“Pretty cool kitty cat you ladies have here,” he told her once she came into the room.

“She's a love sponge,” Sam told him, and the front door swung open right then and Marla stepped in with two brown paper bags in hand.

“There you are!” she proclaimed once she shut the door with her hip. “I was kind of worried you wouldn't wake up until way after.”

“Nah,” Sam assured her with a shake of her head. Marla set down the one bag in her left hand on the coffee.

“There's a muffin in there for Chuck, a couple of scones for you and me—there are four cups of coffee out here on the deck, too. Also, Alex?”

He turned to her and she handed him the one in her right hand.

“Oh boy!” he declared, and he eagerly took it and took his seat there at the kitchen table. He took out a ginger snap and a breakfast sandwich on an English muffin, and rested both on the table before him; Marla returned with a cardboard holder with four paper cups inside.

“They were out of tea,” she told him as she handed him one of the cups. “So I got you coffee.”

“Works for me,” he assured her, and Sam and Marla both joined him there at the table.

“They didn't have gyros, though,” she continued.

“Dammit!”

“A gyro, Alex?” Chuck called out to him from the living room.

“It just sounded good,” he confessed. “When Marla said that they sell gyros, I was like 'yes please.'”

“I got you that cookie plus a little breakfast sandwich.”

Alex shrugged, and then he leaned back in his chair and bit away at the ginger snap as if he was a little boy again. Sam and Marla watched him with smiles on their faces; the former then turned to Marla.

“Okay, so now the next question,” she started in a low voice; Marla proceeded to sip on her coffee. “How are we getting that tape and the Polaroids over there to the house in Elsinore?”

“A man named Dave,” Marla replied and she held the cup at the base with both hands. “I called him before you and Alex got up, and I told him where it is and he'll drop it off for us. Told him the whole story and he relayed the account he would have to tell Bill once he saw him there at the house.”

“Hope this works,” Sam confessed. “That's my fear is Bill will see it as obvious.”

“Sam, if it was easy for Bel and me to break into his house, it should be easy for him to believe that that tape is real. I thought you did it for real! You guys pretty much had your organs hanging out.”

“No, my fear is that he'll see it as me putting on a show,” she clarified. “Like I had no passion, like I was faking it.”

“Sam, let me ask you—did you and him ever do it?”

And Sam shook her head.

“Then how would he know that you were faking?” Marla asked her. “He wouldn't know what pleases you. He wouldn't know how to please you.”

“Yeah, he wouldn't know how to please you the way Joey does,” Alex pointed out.

“By the way, good job referring to Chuck as Chief, too,” Marla chuckled.

“Hey, you introduced him as the Indian Chief,” Sam said with a shrug of her shoulders. She turned to her scone, a fresh blueberry one straight out of the oven and still warm despite the freezing rain outside. No sooner had she begun to pick at it when Alex had already started on his sandwich. Sam had only reached halfway when he had downed all of it right then and there.

“My goodness, you were hungry,” Marla declared.

“Quite.” Alex leaned back with his hands on his stomach. “Stick a fork in me, I'm done for now.”

Sam looked over at him, at his slender body: to think she had her arms around him at one point.

“I wanna touch you,” she confessed to him right in front of Marla and Chuck.

“Then touch me,” he said.

“Yeah, touch him,” Chuck himself joined in from the living room.

A knock on the door caught all of their attention.

“That's probably Bel,” Marla announced, and Alex grimaced at that. Sam nodded at him and she realized that they hadn't changed the sheets yet. Marla opened the door and gasped.

“Oh, hi. Come on in.”

Wrapped up in a puffy winter jacket, Charlie stepped inside there and his big curly hair waved about from the cold outside.

“Hello, Charlie,” Sam declared with a stern tone of voice.

“Hi,” he greeted her as he took his seat at the table.

“Mr. Fire Joey Belladonna without any rhyme or reason,” she continued, and Charlie stopped right in his tracks with his mouth agape. He looked over at Alex and the unimpressed expression on his face.

“What're ya doin'?” Alex demanded as he gave himself a little massage.

“I can explain,” he started with a gesture of his hands.

“You better,” Sam scolded him, “you know, we found Joey laid out at his house. With a syringe right next to him.”

“What.” Charlie was stunned by that.

“Yeah. He didn't inject, but it looked like he did, though. He could've overdosed, Charlie.”

“What was in it?”

“That's beside the point,” she continued, heated, “he could have died, Charlie!”

“Can I talk, please?” he asked her with a serious expression.

“Yes.” Sam leaned back in her chair and fumed at him.

“We wanted him to have a break,” he said.

“A break?” Sam echoed that.

“Yeah. Touring was—starting to get to him a little bit. So—we made the decision that it'd be best for him to take a break from the band for a few months. So we told him to go home.”

“That's no reason to fire him, though,” Alex pointed out.

“Actually—yeah, it is, Alex. When you guys weren't looking, he was often throwing down and getting down with all the drinking and partying. You know, Sam here tried to get him to stop but he just kept going. Don't think of it as firing, though, if that's what he told you. It's more like 'laying him off' because like I said we decided on a few months.”

“Did you—at least tell him that?” Sam asked him.

“I think I did,” Charlie confessed, “but I was just put in a hard position, though. I don't really remember everything I told him.”

Sam and Alex looked at one another. There did in fact seem to be a bit of truth to it, but neither of them could tell for sure, especially Sam since she was the one who was on the phone with Joey on that day.

“Did you guys want a break, too?” Sam asked him, and he nodded his head and his dark eyes were serious all the while. She peered over at Alex, who then knitted his eyebrows at that.

“Why would he think you guys fired him?” Marla asked him, and Charlie shook his head.

“No clue. And all that—his taking a needle to the arm—tells me is we were ready for a break.”

“You guys were still going great, though,” Chuck joined in from behind; he stood right next to Charlie with his hands pressed to his hips.

“Yeah, we were on the outside,” Charlie admitted, “but—things were just—not looking good within. I am looking forward to seeing you guys kick ass now.”

“The door is open, Chuck,” Alex declared.

“Hell yeah, it is, little man,” Chuck said.

“No, really, the door is open.”

“Yeah, it is,” Sam chimed in, and Chuck shut the door behind Charlie with the back of his fist, and then he flashed the two of them the sign of the horns.

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hawklanthebard · 3 years

Text

Fractured Diamond Chapter Two

"Wakey, wakey, Diamond-boy~."

The first thing Mondo heard as he came to slowly and painfully. A singsong tone from a gruff voice he swore he'd heard once before.

Mondo was never the fastest Diamond in the gang. Always slept in, always arrived late at meetings, always slow with clever comebacks when criticized by other members, and worst of all always drove too slow. It was no wonder why he'd mostly get left behind after a heist, not that he'd expect anyone to slow down for him. It's every man for himself out here, and if Mondo were to one day cover for his brother's role as the leader, he'd have to learn how to carry his own weight. Otherwise, how would he be expected to carry the gang? Even if he'd have to find his way out of jail.

Getting arrested was probably the most shameful thing to happen to a gang member. It's bound to happen at some point to any criminal, but to a Diamond, its weakness unfolded. Diamonds are strong, everyone knows that. Nothing can ever break a diamond, except perhaps another one, a reason why infighting was strictly prohibited within the gang. Diamonds are stronger when they're packed together, but each one is made to be strong itself. No chips, no cracks, not even a chink. A weak link can break the chain, as they say. Mondo was a prime example of that. It was one thing to fall behind and get yourself arrested, it was another thing entirely to fall behind and get captured by a rival gang.

"I said, wake up!"

The voice burst between the cracks of Mondo's returning consciousness and struck him square in the stomach. Literally. With what felt like an iron fist.

Before light could pierce through his vision, shapes began to form and dance around his head. His throbbing head. It hurt like hell, and he was certain there was a pretty good-sized bruise on his temple. Although he couldn't for the life of him remember how he got it, either the ground or blunt force. Probably a side effect of his injury. He recoiled in pain, hoping to find at least some sliver of comfort after coming to, only to find he was standing uncomfortably upright. Most of his body weight seemed to be supported by his arms above him. He moved them and was met with what unmistakenly sounded like a chain rattling. He'd figured he was probably cuffed if it weren't for the obvious splintered rope eating at his wrists. Mondo realized his shoes were missing when the icy concrete under his feet surged through his body, but at least he was able to release the tension from his sore arms, finally able to comprehend his condition. Hanging by the wrists on a meat hook, maybe? Mondo recalled something like this happening in a horror movie he and Daiya used to watch on Halloween, only the victim wasn't hung by their wrists. Mondo was slightly grateful his captives weren't that fucked. Slightly.

As if his eyelids were anchored by boulders, Mondo was finally able to get a view of his surroundings and see the silhouetted owner of the gruff voice who brought him back from unconsciousness. The Diamond tried to speak but his throat was stuck together as if it was pasted with glue and shards of broken glass in some psychotic kid's art project. Only a hoarse groan escaped through his teeth.

"Ugh..."

"Well, looky here, boys. Sleeping Beauty awakens." the voice taunted. "Oof. That's quite a bump ya got there, boy." Mondo's face twisted in pain as a pair of fingers flicked his throbbing temple, earning a sea of gruff chuckles from the other men in the room.

Mondo swallowed, somehow managed to utter a noise through his hoarse, weighted throat as if he was speaking with a chest full of sand. "Hha...hoo ah...yuh..."

The man mockingly cupped a hand over his ear, grinning at the miserable boy. "Hm? A little louder, champ. I'm hard of hearing. 'Old man', as you said."

Mondo didn't try to figure out what the man meant by that. He didn't have the energy. He tried to swallow but to no avail. His tongue couldn't even produce saliva at the moment to help his parched throat. "W...wuhh..."

" 'Wuh'? 'Wuh', what, boy?" The man pretended to mull it over. "Wah...wah... Oh! Water? You want water, boy?"

Mondo licked his lips and let out a tiny hoarse cough as if to confirm the man's "guess". The man turned to the group behind him. "The boy's thirsty. Give him some water."

Another muscular man holding a plastic bottle approached Mondo with the same sick grin as the first man and unceremoniously poured the water over Mondo's head. His body slightly jolted at the sudden action as if naturally trying to get away from the cold liquid. Of course, no prevail, much to the men's amusement. Mondo's pompadour draped over his face, the water sticking no matter how many times he may shake it.

"Aww, you ruined his pretty locks." said the first man in mock sympathy. "So sorry, boy. Must've taken hours to do." He reached in his back pocket and pulled out a canteen. "Alright, here ya go, boy."

The man pressed the nozzle over Mondo's lips, who greedily began chugging. It was then when he was immediately struck with a foul taste on his tongue, and he spat out the beverage onto the floor, followed by the remaining contents of his stomach. He coughed and gagged, feeling much worse than before. The men laughed again.

"I guess some "men" just can't hold their liquor." the first man chortled.

"Fug yoo..." a whisper crawled from Mondo's throat. Even he didn't hear it, but sure enough, it met with the ears of the other men.

"What was that, boy?" the first man towered over Mondo, who scowled through his eyebrows and mangled hair.

"Fuck...you..." the Diamond hissed as if his voice was poisonous. A stupid thing to say in his position, but Mondo was prepared to die for it.

The man snatched a fistful of Mondo's wet bangs and forced his head back to meet eyes. Mondo heard a small metallic sound, followed by something sharp being pressed against his throat. It didn't take long to decipher what it was.

Before the man could do or say anything else, another male voice thundered from the lit doorway.

"He's awake, I take it?"

The first man's eyes widened before turning toward the new man. "Y-yessir." A superior, Mondo thought.

Sure enough, his suspicion was correct in a way Mondo could not be proud of himself for. The men parted, making a small path for their boss to enter. From the towering heads, Mondo was able to see the man in full form. A taller, brawny man with short black hair and piercing blue eyes as if they were made from hell flame. He was shirtless and wore bandages around his abdomen like the Diamonds and other gangs, but his shoulders were draped in a grey trenchcoat, and he was covered in tattoos. The vice leader of The Deadly Grey Reapers. Mondo remembered seeing a bigger man, the real leader, who always accompanied this one. For some reason, he was nowhere in sight.

"Good." the man approached Mondo slowly, making sure each step added more and more growing intimidation, if not to Mondo then to his subordinates. They all lowered their heads and stared at their feet. Mondo internally scoffed. How pathetic. To have to intimidate your members in order to control them. Daiya never had an issue with insubordination, and it wasn't because he was soft or weak as other gangs believed. Daiya treated his members as if he was one of them, and he was. He served them, not the other way around. 'A true leader walks among his people, not above.', Mondo remembered his brother saying. If he were here, he'd talk some sense into these so-called "men".

The grey-clad man finally reached Mondo, towering over him as if the Diamond was a mere insect that needed to be squashed. "Mondo Owada. Do you remember me?"

Of course, he did. It was only a few hours ago that night, longer depending on how long he was knocked out. A typical heist near the shopping district, followed by a classic case of wrong place wrong time, which in turn turned into a turf war. Maybe a few steps were missing, but those were the only ones that mattered right now. In the end, the Diamonds were victorious and made haste before the cops showed up. What happened afterward Mondo could take a few guesses.

He said nothing, furrowed eyes fixed on the man as if his looks could speak for him.

The grey man cocked a brow. He didn't smile. "What, they finally cut out your tongue?" he said unhumorously "It's disrespectful to stay silent when asked a question, boy. I took the effort to remember your repulsive name. Didn't your brother ever teach you to respect your elders? Oh wait, that's just not his style, is it?"

Mondo's brows arched deeper against his violet eyes. Still, he chose to be silent, although the need to smack talk the older man for disrespecting his brother was clawing its way through the back of Mondo's throat.

The man shifted the toothpick sticking out between his lips -Mondo had always thought about shoving that toothpick down the man's throat every time he sideglanced Daiya- to the other side of his mouth as he glanced down at the young biker's feet.

"Why is he all wet? And why is there vomit on my floor?" the boss asked coldly, barely turning his head to imply he was speaking to his subordinates. The men glued their eyes to their feet, making only subtle glances at each other, almost urging one of them to speak up before things got messy. Finally, the man that Mondo woke up to opened his mouth.

"H...he said he was...thirsty, boss." the man's voice quivered as something wet splashed onto the ground below him "S-so, we gave him some..."

The grey man glanced over at the empty plastic bottle and flask near the mens' feet. He let out an exasperated sigh with an almost disappointed tone. "I thought I told you not to harm him."

The first man gulped. "U-um, w-we didn't-"

"Do you think I'm fuckin' stupid?!" the grey man shot a glare over his sticking-up jacket collar with eyes like icicles shooting across the room and into the other man's chest. He was forced to look at his boss this time.

"Wh-wha-!"

"When I said not to harm him, did you think you could draw a loophole or somethin'? That I wouldn't notice if you did anything at all other than subdue him as I told you to? You thought you could get away with it?"

A shadow cast over the first man's sweating form. "Uh, w-well, boss, ah...h-he gave me and the boys a...rough time back there, a-an' w-we-I-I thought that m-maybe we could h-have some fun w-wi-"

KRRSK

Silence swept across the room. Mondo would've thought he'd gone deaf from the sickening crack if it wasn't for the sound of droplets falling from the grey man's knuckles and forming a puddle onto the concrete floor. The same color that stained the wall before him with the limp form of the first man. The back of his skull had been cracked open like a melon and blood poured from his face onto his lap. He was dead.

'One hit...he killed him in one hit...' Mondo thought. If he anything left in his stomach, he would've made a new mess over his old. Instead, all he could do was stare with unbelieved eyes and parted lips. He'd seen bloodshed many times, but not like this.

The other men barely flinched, which only deepened Mondo's growing fear. Was this a common occurrence?

The grey man flicked his hand, spraying the remaining wet beads from his knuckles before wiping them with a cloth he pulled from his pocket. Two other men made haste to drag the bloody corpse from the room, others followed behind, leaving only Mondo and the grey man alone.

"That give you a pretty good idea about how this works, boy?" he shoved the bloody rag back in his pocket, "I imagine this is your first time with a real gang, so I decided to give you an illustration. That, and I just hate wiseguys."

Mondo knew he had to look at the man in the eyes to avoid severe punishment, but he couldn't tear his vision away from the red stain on the wall. The longer he stared, the more he realized gruesome details like teeth and pieces of broken skull with dark hair still attached scattered across the floor. When Mondo was finally able to find his voice, he spoke as steady as he could.

"What do you want from me?"

"Glad to see we're on the same page. Maybe there's hope for you after all." The grey man began pacing back and forth, "It isn't about what I want from you, more what I want from your brother. He's done me a great pain this evening. I want to deliver the same onto him."

Mondo raised his brow, eyes fixed on the man as to assure himself he heard him correctly. "Pain? In what, the heist? It was a simple robbery. Just in and out the plaza. It didn't have shit to do with you, but you guys decided to turn it into a turf war, and we kicked your asses. None of us were stupid enough to stick around when the cops showed up. And here you are, taking it out on me like a pussy. If you want that shitty plaza in the middle of nowhere just barely off the highway, be my fucking guest, just leave me out of it."

A pair of boots stopped dead in their tracks. Mondo was facing the grey man's back, the aura darkened around the room as the man spoke in a voice like molten gravel.

"You think this is about that stupid plaza?" the man's knuckles turned white against the faded crimson. "Do you remember my brother?"

His brother? Was that the man Mondo remembered seeing with him all the time? The true leader of the Grey Reapers? That's his brother?

"Isn't he the leader here?" Mondo asked unsurely.

The grey man turned back towards him, eyes shadowed over his face. "He was," he said in a harsh whisper, making sure to put extra poison into that last word.

" 'Was'?" Mondo didn't really need to ask what he meant by that, he could figure it out quickly, but he had to be sure.

"He was killed. After the cops showed up, and you hightailed, the rest of us Reapers stayed behind and fought. We could've scattered like you cowards, but my brother wasn't having it, and we put up a pretty good fight. But one cop aimed his gun at me, and my brother jumped in the way. Bullet went right through his head. I still remember the cop's face."

Mondo's face widened, almost sympathetic. He knew he'd heard gunshots and the sound of battle behind him, later drowned by his bike engine. It wasn't a sound he was unfamiliar with, it was an adventure like he was living in one of those action movies. The thrill of gunshots behind him, police sirens, thugs shouting. It's almost euphoric. But it never occurred to him the danger, death, and loss, the true bloodshed that came with it. With being in a gang.

"But...why me? What does this have to do with me?" Mondo asked

"Your brother needs a lesson. A message." the grey man glanced over at the red stain "An illustration. Everything happens for a reason, I believe. My brother died so I could live and become the leader. Your brother left you behind so I could punish him through you. The pain and helplessness I felt that evening, your brother will never understand until he feels it for himself." He towered over Mondo with intense eyes.

"So, what are you gonna do, kill me?" The biker tried to ask with masked bravery, but he wasn't sure if it came off like that. He heard another metallic sound, the same one he heard before.

"It would send your brother a message." the grey man said pressing the pocket knife against Mondo's throat "But I'm not going to give you what you want, a quick death. Like I said, I want to give your brother an illustration. Do to you on the outside what he did to me on the inside."

"You're wasting your time. He'll come back for me." 'He always does.', Mondo thought the last to himself in shame. How weak he really was.

"I have no doubt he will. But when he does, he won't find his brother. He'll only find a broken kid who shares the same blood."

"You...you won't break me. I'm-"

"-A Diamond? No one can break a diamond, is that right? But I can see right through you. You're not a diamond, not a real one. You're just a shiny piece of glass. And glass can break just as easily as bones. For instance,"

Pow!

Mondo yelped in pain with a sharp gasp as something hard rammed into his abdomen with a sickening crack. His knees buckled beneath him as his wrists once again were forced to support his body weight. Mondo could only take in short breaths, he was sure a rib was cracked. Horror crossed his mind when he remembered how easily that other man died from one punch. He was holding back.

"See? A real Diamond wouldn't crumble like that." the grey man said. Mondo winced as he grabbed a handful of his hair, hoisting his head up to meet eye contact. "You're going to break, Mondo Owada. You're going to be cracked. And what happens to a diamond when it cracks?"

Another blow landed on Mondo's midsection, this time definitely breaking a few more ribs. Mondo could only let out a small whimper as he bit his lip, fighting back the urge to cry.

"It becomes worthless."

#danganronpa #danganronpa fanfiction #mondo owada #mondo oowada

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tomcat-acaphe · 4 years

Text

CPR Masterpost

Roughly 54% of Americans know CPR. That is shockingly low.

So, for those who don’t know, only half know, need a reminder or think they know but don’t, let ya boy educate you.

Pre-Physical CPR: Remember DRS (Doctors!)!

D: Danger. Is there danger nearby? Oftentimes people go into cardiac arrest due to, say for example, touching an electric fence and getting electrocuted. Following on from that example, are they still attached to the electric fence? Is the patient still in danger? If they’re in danger, leave them and don’t do CPR. Still call an ambulance though.

R: Response. Shake em, shout at em, call their name, anything! If they respond with words, don’t do CPR. They’re probably just out of it.

S: Shout for help. You’ll ideally want as many people who can do CPR around as possible. ALSO, CALL AN AMBULANCE.

Physical CPR: Remember ABC.

A: Airway. Lay their head back and open their mouth. Make sure the airway is clear.

B: Breathing. If they aren’t breathing, they’re in danger. Lay your head down on its side near their cheek. Use your eyes to also look if their chest is moving up and down. While doing that, if you can’t hear/feel the breath after ten seconds, they aren’t breathing.

Please note there is also a thing called Agonal breathing. If they’re gasping like a fish out of water or not breathing properly, THEY ARE DYING. It’s a brain reflex, they aren’t actually getting any oxygen.

C: Chest Compressions. Start 'em. Do them until you either physically can’t or the ambulance arrives. This is why shouting for help is important. Compressions are very exhausting and if you’re not physically fit you’ll tire quickly and need to alternate.

Extra Note:

Sometimes, if you’re really good and really lucky, the person may wake up. Often this is temporary. Still keep doing compressions. If they become verbal and tell you to, quote enquote ‘piss off, geroff me!’ There’s a good chance they’re alive now.

How To Do Compressions Properly:

Place the heel of the hand on the breast bone at the centre of the person’s chest. Place your other hand on top of your first hand and interlock your fingers.

Position yourself with your shoulders above your hands.

Using your body weight (not just your arms, trust me, if you just did your arms you’ll get very tired very fast,) press straight down by 5-6cm (2-2.5 inches) on their chest.

Keeping your hands on their chest, release the compression and allow the chest to return to its original position.

Repeat these compressions at a rate of 100-120 times in a minute until either: an ambulance, you get exhausted or you feel slightly tired and have a friend who can take over.

If all this is too complicated to remember, don’t worry. If you put your phone on speaker, the person on the other end will walk you through it in real time. If you can’t take away anything else from this, please take away this fact.

Misconceptions:

Q: Do I have to do mouth-to-mouth?

A: Nope! In fact, I’d advise against it. Mouth to mouth actually does little to help the patient and is arguably detrimental due to an exchange of germs. Just stick to chest compressions.

Q: Do I have to sing Nellie The Elephant?

A: Also nope! Any 100-120 BPM song is fine. There’ll be a list below.

Q: Am I pressing hard enough?

A: No. Unless you’re pressing 5-6cm or 2.5 inches down, you are not. It looks weird and wrong, but that’s because you’re literally acting as their heart for them. If you’re questioning if you’re pressing hard enough, you probably aren’t. If you think you are, push a little harder. It’s possible and very easy to not push hard enough, but there’s no such thing as too hard. Push them so hard they make a hole on the floor if you have to.

Q: Oh no! I heard a rib crack!

A: That’s good! Oftentimes, the ribs have to break in order for you to actually have any hope of successful CPR. Don’t stop because you heard a rib crack. There’s no such thing as pushing too hard. There is such a thing as not pushing enough. It’s better to have a friend alive with a few broken bones than your friend dead.

Q: The patient is a woman and I’m scared that if she wakes up she’ll sue me for touching her breasts. Should I risk it and perform CPR anyway?

A: Don’t worry. You’re protected by the Good Samaritan Law. I’m not a lawyer, so if any one who knows the law could possibly fact check me on this personally, but the Good Samaritan Law states:

“The Good Samaritan Law offers legal protection to people who give reasonable assistance to those who are, or whom they believe to be, injured, ill, in peril, or otherwise incapacitated.”

So even if the patient does wake up and your vital readings were wrong, the law should be on your side.

If you think someone needs CPR, don’t question the legal trouble it’ll get you in later. Just do it.

Q: Don’t I have to check for a pulse?

A: You could, but breathing is much more reliable. Locating a pulse can take a while. (Sometimes people can only feel it in their wrists, some people only feel it in their neck. There’s no one guaranteed location. Everyone is different. Unless you know that person extremely well and know their best pulse spots fir some reason, (I’m not judging your friendship,) chances are it’ll take at least 30 seconds to locate a spot. This is especially hard when someone doesn’t have a pulse.) Breathing, on the other hand, is much more reliable and quicker to do, (10 seconds check, let’s say you were slow and took 2 seconds positioning, that’s 12 seconds max.) Time management is extremely important during CPR and every second counts. I understand most American places recommend checking for a pulse, but everywhere in the UK, (including NHS.gov and the British Resuscitation Council (used by all nurses and doctors as gospel, pretty much unheard if outside of professionals apparently?) My mum also said so.

Songs that are 100-120 BPM to sing instead of Nellie The Elephant: (Feel Free to Add!)

Sweet Home Alabama (Lynyrd Skynyrd) (100bpm)

Tainted Love (Straight No Chaser) (100bpm)

Through The Fire And Flames (Dragonforce) (100bpm)

Breaking The Habit (Linkin Park) (100bpm)

This Ain’t A Scene, It’s An Arms Race (Fall Out Boy) (100bpm)

Dancing Queen (Abba) (100bpm)

Hips Don’t Lie (Shakira) (100bpm)

Gives You Hell (All American Rejects) (100bpm)

Icicles (The Scary Jokes) (100bpm)

Rock Your Body (Justin Timberlake) (101bpm)

Steppin’ Out (Joe Jackson) (101bpm)

Welcome To Tally Hall (Tally Hall) (101bpm)

Cecilia (Simon and Garfunkle) (102bpm)

Semi Charmed Life (Third Eye Blind) (102bpm)

99 Luftballons (DDR) (102bpm)

Stayin’ Alive (Bee Gees) (103bpm)

Stronger (Kanye West) (104bpm)

All Star (Smash Mouth) (104bpm)

Hard To Handle (The Black Crowes) (104bpm)

Rolling In The Deep (Adele) (105bpm)

Good Day (Tally Hall) (105bpm)

Are You Gonna Be My Girl (Jet) (105bpm)

Numb (Linkin Park) (107bpm)

Set Fire To The Rain (Adele) (108bpm)

Stronger (Britney Spears) (108bpm)

Eye Of The Tiger (Survivor) (109bpm)

Just The Way You Are (Bruno Mars) (109bpm)

Hollaback Girl (Gwen Stefani) (110bpm)

Another One Bites The Dust (Queen) (110bpm)

Till It’s Over (Tristam) (110bpm)

Grenade (Bruno Mars) (110bpm)

Never Gonna Give You Up (Rick Astley) (113bpm)

Under Pressure (Queen and David Bowie) (113bpm)

Banana Man (Tally Hall) (113bpm)

Two Trucks (Lemon Demon) (114bpm)

Uptown Funk (Mark Ronson and Bruno Mars) (115bpm)

What Doesn’t Kill You (Kelly Clarkson) (116bpm)

Once In A Lifetime (Talking Heads) (117bpm)

Call Me Maybe (Carly Rae Jepsen) (118bpm)

Don’t Stop Believing (Journey) (118bpm)

Bad Romance (Lady Gaga) (119bpm)

Just Dance (Lady Gaga) (119bpm)

Poker Face (Lady Gaga) (119bpm)

Tik Tok (Ke$ha) (120bpm)

Teenage Dream (Katy Perry) (120bpm)

DJ’s Got Us Falling In Love Again (Usher) (120bpm)

Revenge (Captain Sparklez) (120bpm)

If you want to check your favourite song is one you can use but it’s not here, go onto the website tunebat.com and type in the title. It will tell you the BPM and other fun facts like what key it’s in.

Sources:

http://www.nhs.uk/conditions/first-aid/cpr/

http://www.resus.org.uk

My Mum (Registered Band Six District Nurse (Going for Master’s Degree currently.)) (She read and fact checked this for me. Thanks, Mum!)

http://tunebat.com

My own knowledge having this drilled into me from a young age. (From sources above, especially ‘My Mum.’ You can’t find that website anymore.)

#cpr #medical #important #I don’t usually ask for reblogs but #please reblog #you don’t have to but if this gets around it could save a life #if anyone has any corrections PLEASE TELL ME #I may debate you on it but its only because I want my research to be as accurate as possible

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babbushka · 4 years

Text

White Christmas

Clyde Logan x Reader ; 1.9k

I'm dreaming of a white Christmas

Just like the ones I used to know

Where the treetops glisten and children listen

To hear sleigh bells in the snow

You’re in the kitchen finishing up the very last decorations on the gingerbread house, when Sadie sighs. She’s been huffin’ and puffin’ all evening, much to your dismay. You had hoped that buildin’ the homemade house from scratch would be a fun activity to end off Christmas Eve, but your normally sunshiney niece was practically gloom and glum all night.

She reaches for the final perfect gumdrop, but you use your hand to block her, givin’ her a questioning look, wondering what in tarnation is going on in that mind of hers. Christmas was her favorite holiday, it always had been, and for the first time in years all the Logans had decided to celebrate together, everyone staying in the nice new house you and Clyde bought after the heist.

“Do you think it’ll come tonight?” Sadies finally chews her lip and asks, pouts with those big sad eyes of a child whose dream has been crushed.

Your heart aches, knowin’ what she means. You both glance out the window, to the decidedly un-snowy front yard. In the reflection of the glass, you can see the disappointment on her face, and your heart aches.

“I don’t know sweatpea, but I hope so.” You say, twisting her ponytail affectionately.

“We’ve had snow every year.” Sadie sighs again, plucking off one of the red and green M&M decorations on the roof of her house, popping it in her mouth and chewing noisily before sighing once again with a, “I hate global warming.”

“Me too, me too.” You give a sympathetic smile, pulling her into your arms for a little while, a nice reassuring hug. Before you let her go, you try to get her back in the spirit by whispering real quiet so only she can hear, “But instead of worrying about that for right now, why don’t you run up and get ready for bed, hm? Santa Claus can’t come if you’re not asleep by eight.”

That perks Sadie right up, and before you know it she’s bolting out of your arms with a glance at the clock, realizing it’s already seven-thirty.

“Shoot, you’re right!” She gasps, “Goodnight Uncle Clyde! G’night Aunt (Y/N)!” She gives you each a kiss on the cheek, you in the kitchen and your husband on the couch in the living room, before running into one of the guest bedrooms which she has claimed.

You chuckle fondly at the renewed excitement, and with the gingerbread houses finished, you grab a mug from the counter and fill it with icy cold ‘nog.

You hang in the doorway for a moment, simply admiring the view before you. Clyde is relaxed on the couch in his Christmas pajamas – something you purchased for the whole family so you could all match. He’s got his prosthetic off, put away somewhere in the master bedroom, and his hair is freshly washed and fluffy. From the angle he’s sitting at, all you can see is the strong contour of his profile, and you get the sudden urge to kiss his nose.

I'm dreaming of a white Christmas

With every Christmas card I write

"May your days be merry and bright

And may all your Christmases be white"

“Is that the news?” You ask, and he perks up at the sound of your voice, that permanent scowl of his fading away to something much more soft and sweet.

“Yep.” He says, forever a man of many words.

“Has the weather come on yet?” You ask hopefully, but he sighs in that very Logan way that they all do, and you already know the answer before he’s tellin’ you.

“Nope.” He tells you anyway. When he sees your eyes sadden, he reaches out to you, beckons you with his hand and a, “C’mere darlin’, sit with me?”

You sit on the armrest of the couch, and he wraps his arm around your waist. You lean your head on top of his and offer him the mug you brought, still nice and chilled from the frozen bowl you had poured it into just shy of an hour ago.

“Want some eggnog?” You offer, but he shakes his head, tears his gaze away from the news – still no weather – to look at you, smile at you.

“Not if you can’t have any.” He says, and you kiss him softly, just a chaste little something when you push it into his hand.

“There’s no brandy, I made it special so Sadie could have some too.” You explain and his whole face lights up at that, makin’ you chuckle and card your fingers through his hair gently as his huge mouth gulps down half the mug in one swig.

“When d’ya think we can tell everyone?” He asks, throwing a glance to your stomach, and you can’t help but laugh at the cream that sticks to his moustache.

“Not for two more weeks, just to be safe.” You reply, and he nods in understanding.

You steal the mug back from him for just a moment, just long enough to catch a sip or two before letting him finish it off, and you lean your head back down on top of his, feeling safe and warm in his loving embrace as the low light from the TV flickers on and on, as the two of you wait for a forecast.

The whole family has gone to sleep by the time you and Clyde decide to turn off all the lights and make your way upstairs.

With Jimmy across state lines to see his daughter more, the whole gang didn’t have much opportunity to get together all that often. You figured that if there were any time of the year to celebrate with your loved ones, it was Christmas, so you managed to convince Clyde to open up the house to his brother and sister, as well as some of your family and friends.

All in all, absolutely every one of the spare rooms was filled for a long weekend of all sorts of traditions. Sadie was so excited to see the new house, she ran around and around the place, gawkin’ and gaspin’ at the newness of it all.

You knew it shouldn’t make you feel so proud and petty, but well, compared to the kind of livin’ Bobby Jo had managed to secure for herself, you thought you did pretty damn good.

But Sadie was snoozin’ in her bed, as were everyone else. You thought about the poem, how Clyde had read it aloud to the whole group, his deep baritone the perfect pitch for the smooth rumblings about sugar plums and sleighs and tiny reindeer. You thought about how they were all dreamin’ themselves, the house so quiet as you both made the rounds to switch off the lights on the tree, blow out all the candles.

It’s only when you’re passing under the doorway to go into the kitchen and help Clyde put away the eggnog and gingerbread houses, that you see the little bundle of green that’s been taped up above your heads, your husband appearing just on the other side of the door.

“Would ya looky here,” He says shyly, always ever so shy your husband, shy as he smile and quirks a brow as he points up to the, “Mistletoe.”

“Now who put that there?” You wonder teasingly, softly, eyes already closing and leanin’ in, lips puckering.

“Someone smart.” Clyde whispers, arms coming around your waist, big warm hand splayed out on your back, pressing you close to him.

On the in the background Bing Crosby and Danny Kaye are singing in red velvet in front of a live audience, and you let your heart swell with the romance of it all.

I'm dreaming of a white Christmas

Just like the ones I used to know

Where the treetops glisten and children listen

To hear sleigh bells in the snow

After smoochin’ in the doorway, the two of you can barely keep your hands off of one another, and he walks you back back back against the kitchen counter. He’s so strong, sometimes you forget how strong he is, your husband, forget those special ops muscles. He’s eager, excited, his kisses more and more urgent as he maneuvers you so that he can stand between your legs as your breath puffs and pants against one another.

Y’all hadn’t had much opportunity for any sex, with the entire house packed with family, and you knew you couldn’t reasonably get away with anything in this moment, but it was still thrilling to try. He’s handsy, big warm palm sliding up your blouse and gropin’ grabbin’ pinchin’ at ya.

You only giggle and bite at his lips, bite at his big cheesin’ grin, that special smile only you ever get to see.

You lean back enough to just get a good look at him – and that’s when you notice it.

“Clyde!” You gasp softly, hopping off the counter and immediately moving to the living room once more.

“Hmm?” He frowns, concerned and following you hot on your tail, not seeing what you’re seeing.

But you see it, the soft white flurries that flutter down from the black of night. The porch-lights are on and you can catch bits and pieces of the fluff. Your first thought is of Sadie, how she’s going to get to wake up to a winter wonderland, get to wake up to snowmen and snow angels and maybe even a snowball fight.

But your second thought, is that you want to feel the snowflakes on your face, on your tongue, and even though it’s late, you turn to Clyde with a pleading, hopeful expression.

“Can we go outside?” You ask, your hands braced on his chest, practically unable to contain yourself.

He smiles and kisses your cheeks, your nose, your forehead, until you’re laughin’ and coverin’ your mouth to try and keep quiet, so as to not wake up the rest of the family.

“Only if you’re warm enough darlin’, I don’t wantcha catchin’ cold.” He says softly, appraising you in your pajamas, wondering if he should stick you in ten more layers.

But then you’re grinning up at him, pulling him by the hand to stick your feet into slippers to protect from the chill of the snow that’s already starting to stick, and you toss him one of your beaming grins with a twinkle in your eye as you tell him, “I won’t be if you’re holdin’ me.”

You don’t stay out long, just enough time to get the cool bite of the gentle breeze on your face, jack frost nipping at your nose, as they say. Clyde is right by your side, hand on your waist, walking around and around the yard with you in the dark, the only light coming from the strands of icicle lights that Jimmy had helped hang up, and the porch lamps.

It’s not much right now, but you just know that come morning, Sadie’s going to be laughing and shouting and wakin’ y’all up to come outside.

So for now, it’s enough that it’s here, enough that you can chuckle softly as you brush the snow out of Clyde’s hair.

I'm dreaming of a white Christmas

With every Christmas card I write

"May your days be merry and bright

And may all your Christmases be white"

-----------

Tagging my Clyde lovin’ friends! <3 @autumnlovesadam @dreamboatdriver @fullofbees @adamsnackdriver @kyloxfem @formerly-anonhamster @kylo-renne @callmehopeless @magikevalynn @scheherazades-horcrux @whiskey-bumblebee

#reader insert #clyde logan x reader #clyde x reader #logan lucky #christmas fic #my writing #12DoO #12 days of oneshots

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myclownjunction · 5 years

Text

Request Pennywise x Future Fem! S/O who happens to be Ben’s nanny sitter- Smutty part

Welp Anon your wish is a command for me

* You was laying on the bed with your make-up smeared as you looked at the tall clown that was emitting different sound but mostly purring ones

*” Oh little Y/N, should have known before she called this clown!” he leaned closer to your body and whispered into your ear, “Oh Pennywise will play with you so hard that you won’t be able to walk!” he smiled licking his teeth looking you up and down as a perfect meal he’ll take a bit from

NSFW COMES AHEAD IF NOT 18+ TURN BACK FOR INSTANCE

* As he leans and takes deep inhale of your scent, he leans to your neck as a long slimy tongue, emits from his mouth and trails over your pulse, making you moan

*He purrs and growls because he wants to hear the sound you make, he dips into your neck and scraps carefully his needle-like teeth over your puls a warning that he can tear you at any moment

*His crimson lips were wet from the drool that was dripping from them but something has awakened inside of you as you grabbed his face a slammed his lips into a hot sloppy kiss, it was ferocious, it was delightful, it was wholesome.

*Pennywise on the other side feral growl, as he deepens the kiss letting his long tongue, slide deep into your throat, you almost choke on his appendage but then let your eyes close and enjoy his dominance

* His eyes roll back as he enjoys dominating you in any ways possible, his hands grow this sharp like knives claws as he breaks the kiss a bridge of salvia connecting you, as he makes swish motion your front of the outfit was ruined as you pout at him

* He chuckles deeply as he purrs “ Ohh fret not my little one, my sweet mate, when I’m done with you, you will have the most beautiful costume ever! So. BREATHTAKING!” he growls, tearing your bra off, his yellow eye scanning the beautiful (B/S) you had. DROOLING INTENSIFY

*He launches at your breasts devouring them like the animal he is, pinching, sucking, biting and to hell with the morals you love it, he nuzzles them as he growls, you feel the tent building in his pantaloons

*You try to rub your front into his bulge as he hissed and looks at you with your breast in his mouth, smiling at you mischievously “Oh impatient little lamb are ya? Want to see your present so soon?” he giggles

*Whoo BOY, you DO want TO unwrap YOUR present!

*You press yourself into the bulge as he growls threateningly at you, in one swift motion he pulls you underneath him as he looks at you with predatory and hungry eyes! “That’s it little one it’s time for Pennywise to show you how he babysits little naughty girls like you!” he cooed in a menacing voice

* He lifts your tutu dress, looking at your damp panties “Mmm, naughty, naughty little girl did the poo-poo in her panties?” he asked in a childish way, you were so red, I mean you were a babysitter and even changed diapers but wow that was so different

* “ Let ole Pennywise clean you, now shall he?” he tore the panties as he leaned into your wet cavern taking a deep sniff, he growled and drooled as he looked back at you with those burning amber of eyes. “Tasty, tasty beautiful LUST”

* You let out a moan and squeal as he attached himself at your wetness drinking you as it was for the last time, you were crazy and moaning mess underneath this tall alien clown that could rip you to sherds any moment and you loved it even more, his power and his dominance, it made you weak

* He devoured you letting his tongue exploring you in and out, turning your poor knot of realizing into many other knots, his clawed hand were squeezing your tights as he eats you out when the knot tightened you knew you’re about to explode, and you did

* “Uhhh, Ohhhh little dirty girl, look what mess you did, mmm, Penny have to clean it now” as he started lapping, at your juices you were still on cloud nine, he let you lie over the stage of his wagon he let his pantaloons to show a huge appendage it was white at the base and red at the tip almost like icicle, you gulped ‘how will this fit into me?’ you thought “Oh it will little one Pennywise will make some space, and you’ll take it like the good girl you are!” he approached you

*Crawling on his fours and still he was huge and tall, underneath him you were so small and vulnerable, and he loved it every single moment of it, he cooed in your ear to distract you as he pushed the tip in, earning moans from your little frame, then a little bit more, without a warning he shoved his whole length in you knocking the wind out of your lungs “Shhh, Pennywise got you, little one, yeah I got you, shhh, you’re a good girl, yeah! Such a good girl and all for me! MINE! He roared

* “Mine to breed, mine to claim, mine and only mine, YoU WoN’t pLaY WiTh ThoSe KiDs AnYMorE!” you only moaned underneath him as he looked deep into your eyes and to your soul, he sees the fear, the only fear that made him stop his thrustings as you looked at him questioningly. You were afraid to lose him, him the creature that terrorized children and even adults, him ...He was everything to you...and now he leaned purring and kissed you with so much passion and love, you couldn’t believe it

* “So that’s your fear, little one? Heh, I am supposed to be afraid...to...lose you! But I won’t!” he looked at you lovingly “ You will be my mate and at the end of this ritual you will be and eldrich!” he resumed his thrusts not giving you time to wrap your mind around it and you didn’t care

* As he made his pace faster and deeper making you come the third time in a row his deadlights appeared as you were in a completely different room, the grotesque spikes resemble a crater after asteroid collision, you saw it then his arrival, his huntings, what did he felt, you felt whole of HIM.

*He was groaning and growling as he devoured you completely spiritually and physically, the pleasure from the close release of you and your lover were unbearable as you both felt and chased after your orgasms, you felt him bulging in your core as he growled out “I WILL FILL YOU WITH MY BROOD! AND YOU WILL TAKE EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM, YES AND WHEN THEY GROW UP WE WILL DEVOUR THIS WORLD, MY QUEEN, MY MATE, MY SWEET GALAXY! MINE!”

*With his last thrust the deadlights formed around you into a whirlwind taking you into a frenzy, turning your worlds upside-down, giving you eternal essence as you were consumed by the double pleasure of being turned into eldrich and being on the peek at receiving Pennywise’s eggs in your belly. You levitated as you were floating down to his open arms as he cached you and looked at your essential three little deadlights small and yet powerful just like you, now were floating with you.

* “Oh my Queen, how do you feel?” he purred as he licked your cheek, you were so tired and wrecked but you felt so powerful, like you could do anything you wish, your deadlights were nuzzling into you as they disappeared together with his ones floating just above you, chasing each other playfully.” I've never felt so good my KIng!” you purred realizing that your outfit was presentable and intact, the costume you lured him in

* “He smiled at you knowingly as he nuzzled his head into your neck, touching the belly so carefully and lovingly, you were looking at his eyes as you smiled letting your hand slide over his “It will be powerful just like his Papa!” you nuzzled his cheek as he smiled and said “Beautiful and clever as his Mama!” he smiles showing his point-like teeth.

* Oh since that moment you knew the terror of human race only had begun as three of you will be the Consumers of the World, and you could not be more happy about it!

Welp DONE Anon here you go your second PARTE, enjoy slides in and sits with a pop-corn box to watch!

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zenithlux · 4 years

Text

Cadence - 32

Catch up on the story here!

Trigger Warning: Slight mention of suicide.

Falling too far, For the fear to embrace me A voice from the past, Ringing on with no end, But I'm a slave to my fight, Am I doomed to repeat this? Again and again and again and again

Return to Oblivion - FFXIV

---------

They didn’t return to Devil May Cry empty-handed, but the somber mood was difficult to ignore. “A DVD?” Dante said. “That’s all?”

“It’s something,” Vergil said. He tried to keep the exasperation out of his voice, but he was far too tired to care. He could feel Roxy’s exhaustion weighing on the back of his mind, and he knew he’d have to let this form go soon. He might have to retreat to the mindscape altogether, as he hadn’t done that in quite a few days.

“Why didn’t you just fight him?” Dante said. “Who cares if Mundus isn’t happy. The guy killed his brother.” But even as he spoke, Vergil could see his brother’s uncertainty. Maybe it was the fact that they had practically been in the same position. Maybe he was recalling Nelo’s “death” and the thought that he’d killed Vergil himself. Regardless, Vergil didn’t dare bring it up.

“I care,” Roxy said. “If he’s not in control of his actions, then who’s really to blame for Kuro’s…” She trailed off, unable to finish that sentence. Instead, she looked to Dia who had transformed back the moment Raijin had left. “Please tell me I’m not making a mistake.”

“Demons are usually crueler under Mundus’s control,” Dia said. “It’s part of being conscripted to him. They gain his desires. His hatred. His third for revenge, death, and blood.” She looked at Vergil. “Unless Mundus is afraid of them, then he simply takes away everything that makes them who they are.”

A part of him could appreciate her attempt to make him feel better. Most of him, however, didn’t like the constant reminders. “So he was likely forced to kill Kuro, and if he hadn’t retrieved at least the notebook, he would have been killed.” Or worse.

“So you forgive him, Rox?” Nero said.

“I don’t know,” Roxy said. “But Kuro…” She closed her eyes. “When Kuro died, he wasn’t angry. He was… sad. He wished to save his brother, not condemn him. And who am I to take revenge for him when he didn’t even want it?’ She squeezed Vergil’s hand as she spoke. He didn’t even notice her grab it. “But that doesn’t matter. We got the DVD. Mundus is likely on his way, and whatever plan he’s got, we have to be ready. “She looked back to Dia. “What’s in the notebook?”

“Your father’s mos important observations and experiments,” Dia said. “That includes the few successful transplants he managed to do, including your own.”

“What other transplants did he do?”

“Mostly transplants between willing demons,” She said. “Nothing as crazy as implanting a heart.”

“Why didn’t you just keep the notebook?” Roxy said. “Why hide it in the house?”

“Your father believed the best place to put it was in that house,” Dia said. “If he destroyed everything else, nobody would guess he’d hidden it there. And it made sense that he would protect his home with demonic magic, even though he never could have predicted the Qliphoth Tree incident.”

“So it needed me?”

“Kuro,” She said. “So… technically yes. And Raijin knew this.”

“Could he have found a way to break it?”

“Maybe,” Dia said. “Though I think its more likely that Mundus never told him to break in, so he never had to.”

“He might be finding ways to defy him, then,” Dante said.

“I wish I knew for certain,” Dia said.

“Dia,” Roxy said softly. “What happened to my father?”

Dia’s hesitation was physically painful. She flinched back, taking a step away before catching herself and returning to her spot. Vergil shifted a bit closer to Roxy as a sour feeling settled in his stomach. “Now is not the time to keep secrets,” He said.

Dia sighed. “It's not that I’m trying to keep secrets it's just… not a good time.”

“Tell me,” Roxy said.

“Raijin is a good person,” She said. “He had a bright future, and he was the reason he and Kuro escaped Mundus in the first place. He was the one who found you in the first place and pushed Kuro to be your friend. He helped your father’s experiments and genuinely wanted to make up the years he’d lost under Mundus.”

“What are you keeping from me?” Roxy said.

Dia sighed. “When Mundus reclaimed Raijin’s soul, his first order was to kill your father.”

For a brief moment, he thought Roxy might run away. He pulled her just a bit closer, trying to soothe her thoughts. It didn’t work. “Raijin killed my father?”

“No,” Dia said softly. “Your father made sure he didn’t have to.”

A mixture of sadness and rage slammed into Vergil before he was prepared. Roxy blinked rapidly, trying to send the tears away. “Rox…” Nico said.

“Don’t,” She said. “There’s nothing…” She choked on her words, trying her best to keep it together. “There’s nothing to say.” She looked down at the DVD. “This is his right?”

“He recorded the aftermath of many of his experiments,” Dia said. “I believe that is the collection of all of them. You might be able to figure out what Mundus is planning with those alone.”

Roxy stared at the disk, and Vergil could feel the uncertainty in her mind. “What is it?” He said gently.

“I… I don’t know if I’m ready to see him again,” She murmured.

“Let me,” Nico said as she held her hand out. “I take pretty good notes.”

“I can help,” Nero said. “If anything important comes up, we’ll let you know.”

For a moment, Roxy said nothing. But as another tear streamed down her cheek, she handed the DVD over with a small nod. “Go to sleep, Vergil,” She said. “I’ll wake you up in a bit.”

“Are you sure?”

She looked up at him, her eyes red. “I won’t be doing much, and it’s better for both of us if you regain your energy.”

“Roxy…”

“Please!” She snapped, then caught herself and wiped a tear away in frustration. “Please just… I need time.”

Finally, he nodded. “Dante…”

“I’ll keep watch,” Dante said. “Just get some sleep.”

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

Vergil woke up hours later, curled up on Roxy’s bed in his shadow form. He yawned, stretching everything he could before looking around. Roxy was missing, but he could feel her close by. Outside? That was his most likely guess. He hopped up onto a chain and peered out the window. Roxy stood by the front door, dressed in the coat Dia and Nico had made. Dante was there, talking with her about something Vergil couldn’t hear. Maybe if he tapped into her senses, but he still wasn’t quite good enough at that to try. He could feel her pulling on a hint of Kuro’s power, but not enough to worry him. Maybe Dante was trying to help her control it? A part of Vergil wished she had waited, but he understood that they didn’t have that kind of time.

He hopped off the chair and slipped out of the room. Dante’s voice echoed through the door as he got closer. “It’s possible,” Vergil heard. “Though I think Verge might know more about that than me.”

“He’d be able to feel it at least,” Roxy agreed.

Vergil shoved the front door open with his snout. “Speak of the devil,” Dante said with a lopsided grin. “How ya feeling sunshine?”

Vergil rolled his eyes as he moved to Roxy’s side. “What’s on your mind?”

“Dante’s been helping me channel some of Kuro’s power,” Roxy said.

"Did you get any rest?”

She nodded. “Some, though I had trouble sleeping.”

That explained why she hadn’t visited him in the mindscape. “What did you need me to look for?”

“Dante thinks I might have something similar to your Devil Triggers,” She said. “Since a demon’s power comes from their heart or something.” She pressed her hand to her chest - a new nervous tick, Vergil noted - and sighed.

Dante patted her back- earning a small growl from Vergil- and laughed as he mockingly backed away. “I’ll leave ya’ll to it.” He said with a wave as he ducked back inside. Vergil huffed as his tail wrapped protectively around her ankle. She chuckled as she reached down to pat his head. “He’s been very helpful.” She said.

Vergil huffed again. “You should have woken me up.”

“I needed the energy.”

“To expend?”

“I wasn’t using much.” She said scratching behind his ears. He purred, then scowled, earning a quiet laugh. “Well come on, then,” She said, pulling away. “You can’t stay like that and expect me not to pet you.” She pressed her hand on his back and he felt cooling magic seep into his bones. He let her pull on his soul, transforming back into V. She handed him her jacket, and he was grateful this form was a bit skinner as his full self would never be able to fit in something made for her. Then he scowled at her as she patted his very human head. “Much better.” She said with a wink.

“I figured you preferred the cat.”

“I prefer you,” She said simply.

Vergil scoffed. “This isn’t really me.”

“But it is… right?” She said. “I’m not just summoning some random man.”

He hesitated, then sighed. “This is my human form, yes. From when I split myself in two.”

“The Qliphoth thing.”

He nodded. “You likely saw it in my memories.”

"Maybe,” She said. “Though it probably doesn’t matter.” She looked down at her hand and Vergil felt her pull on a strand of her power. A small snowflake hovered in her hand. She flexed her fingers and it turned into a sharp shard and dropped into her hand. “I made these by accident,” She said. “I just… threw them like it was nothing.”

“You had already tapped into your power by then,” He said. “And you haven’t needed to control it before.”

“Kuro’s power,” She said.

“It’s yours now.”

“But it's his heart.”

“It’s your heart,” He pressed. “He gave it to you, Roxy. It and the power it contains are yours. If you wish to control it, then you must acknowledge that,” Again, he took a breath before taking her hand again. He saw her visibly relax, and he might have spent more time thinking about why she was so comfortable with him if they didn’t have more to do. “Do what you did last time. Focus on that power.”

“But what do I do with it?” She said. “Throwing icicles around isn’t exactly intuitive.”

“Remember how you used to summon Kuro?” Vergil said. Roxy nodded, though he could feel her uncertainty. “Try that again.”

“But what’s going to happen?”

“I don’t know,” Vergil said. “But it's worth a shot.” After another long pause, he took her other hand and pulled her closer. “Don’t be afraid. I’m right here.”

Finally, she nodded as she squeezed his hands and took a step back. She held her hand out, whispering “Kuro.” Ice swirled toward her hand, forming a small globe with a snowflake in the center. She raised it slowly, eyes locked on it lifted higher in the sky. Then, she snapped her hand closed. The ice shattered into crystals as fine as fresh snow. The outline of a dragon formed from the snowflakes and for half a second, Vergil thought Kuro would appear.

But then, the snow dove at Roxy. She gasped as it collided with her back, vanishing in a flurry. Her skin turned to ice. Her eyes shifted to a pale blue as her hair turned white. She screamed as a pair of blue dragon wings burst from her back; Kuro’s reformed. Vergil grunted as the flurry threatened to knock him over. But he pushed forward, reaching for her as her panic slammed into him. “Help,” She whispered. “Vergil I’m…”

I’m scared.

The ice sliced through his skin. Blood dropped around his feet. Her eyes turned draconic. Scales appeared on her arms. Vergil pushed harder, reaching for her. Finally, his hand brushed her shirt. He grabbed it and pulled her closer, ignoring the instant chill under his own skin. “I’m here,” He said. “Don’t be afraid. I’m right here.”

Tears froze on her cheeks. “It’s… it’s too much.”

“Then let it go,” He said. “Let it all go.”

“I don’t know what will happen.”

“Don’t be afraid,” He repeated. “I’m right here.”

A pulse of demonic power erupted from her. The glass of Devil May Cry shattered. Ice embedded itself into the concrete around Vergil’s feet. The wings turned to dust. Roxy crumbled as the ice along her body melted, drenching them both. Vergil held on, dropping them both to the ground as he placed her head against his chest. He heard Dante rush outside but ignored whatever his brother was saying. “It’s alright,” Vergil whispered as he brushed through her hair. “You’re alright.”

But Roxy just sobbed into his chest, shaken. And he let her, determined to rescue the woman he felt so dearly for.

#zenni-writes #cadence #update #vergil #vergilxoc #nero #nico #V #dante #dmc #fan fic #only a few chapters left

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sweetonmylove · 5 years

Text

The “Pop, Rock, and Drop It” KiriBaku Compilation Fic Rec List

I originally started this recent set of fic rec lists to celebrate surpassing 200 followers, to cultivate not just one, but multiple KiriBaku fic rec’s to show my appreciation for my followers, my fandom, my OTP, and the beautiful writers who supply me with the nourishment I crave on the daily.

**But now I would like to thank my 300 followers for joining me in our mutual love of all things KiriBaku. Let the KiriBaku loving hours commence!

Out of Control *E* ~ Arxaris

This right here is like the peanut butter to my jelly…. Quirk swap! Kiri gets all Blasty McSplode and Baku… gets hard! First they can't keep their hands off themselves cuz they're pining idiots okay? But then they realize they can't keep their hands off each other. Yet another brilliant creation from Arx

https://archiveofourown.org/works/19355623

Favourite Everything *NR* ~ Firesparks

Oh my god you guys, this is just too damn cute. Strangers to lovers who are room mates (Oh my god), soulmates, Coffee shop manager Kiri, and Cop Baku… so many tropes but it works sooo well!! This is just comedy gold and there's a huge prank war <3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/19095742

What Just Fucking Happened *E*~ Dadzawa for ThatFunkyOpossum

My dudes, I can't even tell you just how many times I've read this one. Aged-Up Pro-Heroes who are pining idiots (again). Kiri sustains injury and Baku is called upon to help mend him…. Which leads to Bottom Baku and Top Kiri.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18786484

Red Neon *E* ~Shippeh

This is one of those fics that just gets under your skin, ya know? Mutual pining boys who are aged-up and one of them is quite tipsy.. But not enough to deter from grinding while dancing, making out, and some smutty getting together in the alley behind the club.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18902734

Oops Wrong Room *E*~ Snitchdust

Kiri gets drunk and mistakes Bakuboy's room as his own… *Spoiler alert* Bakugou sleeps naked! First time, first kiss, porn with feelings and plot. Baku might be a tad OOC, but who isn't when you're horny and your personal fantasy literally falls into your bed, on top of you?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/16237013

The 80th Floor *M* ~ Ashii Black

Cut to I-Island and this explains what these two were doing wandering around on the 80th floor. Making out, groping, and humor ensue

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18458609

Fate Can Suck It *T* ~ Ashii Black for Icicle

AU Soulmates, Mutual pining (of course), First kiss, and the beloved Bakusquad make an appearance

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18505888

Quirk Swap *G* ~ Deviance

This one literally has no dialogue, but it doesn’t need it, like at all. It's a shorty but a sweetie and the title says it all

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15468249

Burnt Edges *T* ~ Deviance

This one is simply sweet and much needed for a touch-starved Bakugou. Kirishima is a sweetheart who just wants to be tender with his Bakubabe. First kisses and cuddles

https://archiveofourown.org/works/16991703

One to Ten *T* ~ Crunchrapsupreme

Kirishima attempts to climb the ladder of success and weasel his way into Bakugou Katsuki's explosive little heart. Step one? He has to get to level ten. Friends to lovers, crushing, pining, kissing, cats, and confessions

https://archiveofourown.org/works/11770692

Get Tough, Straight Up *T* ~ Qactus

Ok ya'll, this is cutesie to the max. Someone stole Kiri's little stuffy of himself?! *Gasps* now just who could be the culprit? Accidental confession, cuddling, requited love, kissing

https://archiveofourown.org/works/11725113

Carried Away *M* ~ Tusslee

Tattoo shop AU with Tattoo artist Kiri, past BakuDeku, patron Baku, first dates, getting together, and a Tatted Bakugou (be still my heart).

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12035334

Candy Kisses *T* ~ Maplefudge (Orphan Account)

Guuuys Maple has this orphaned account where she stashed away some REALLY REALLY great shit. This one is cute as hell. It involves a school festival kissing booth, Class 1-A, Awkwardness, and teen romance

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17186324

Benched *E* ~Fanficismything

Aged-up, Pro-Hero, Roomies (yes please), where Kiri bench presses a very aroused and distressed Bakugou. Poor baby tries to rush home and alleviate his "frustration," when low and behold, Kiri becomes a witness and a participant (hallelujah!)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/19123723

If Only It Were Easier *E* ~ Just_A_Couple_Of_Thoughts

A post break up fic with getting back together as endgame. Mutual Pining with a Top Baku and Bottom Kiri this time around!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/11645781

The Heated Birthday Spar *E* ~Asiankittee

What happens when two dudes who are dating? Spar until one collapses onto the other? Smut and fluff, of course. First time, porn with feelings, Top Baku and Bottom Kiri, SURPRISE!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/1070220839

If You Want To… *M*~ Treeclimbr

Another fic I've eye-banged more than a few times. Getting together, first times, Blowjobs… in a steamy shower… what could be better??

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17647763

Melt Against Me *E* ~ FoolishFortuna

Totally improper use of popsicles! Oral fixation, sexual tension, dry humping, grinding, and of course, sticky hand jobs. This one is one of my favs from Foolish, which is a hard feat seeing that this writer hasn't published a single KiriBaku that I haven't been head over heels for

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18351314

Feral Night *E* YeetOnTheBeat

A sex pollen fic that features Kiri and Baku in a Established Relationship who are comfortable with switching. You'll find smut and humor here, folks!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/19381786

Rock Steady, Rock Hard *E*~ CallingForHeaven

Okay, so Bakugou hates the cold right? Well when he awakes to snow outside he decides that all he wants is some body heat, but Kiri decides he would rather whisper sweet nothings into Baku's ears until he gives in to some touching and what not. Really humorous and sweet.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12891876

Hold Me 'Til I Scream For Air To Breathe *E* ~ Callingforheaven

This is just yes. Angry sex, we could've died sex, locker room sex, getting together, Bottom Baku and Top Kiri

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12934521

**** Side Note… If you're a writer and we're mutuals and I've commented on your works… Be prepared to be featured on one of my next lists… there will be a few more in the span of the next few days! Just know, it has nothing to do with us being mutuals, but instead, my great appreciation for your divine writing, the joy, pain, and entertainment you have provided to me and everyone else!****

I'll conclude this with the same message… As always, please be kind and share your love with the incredible authors who poured themselves into these works. Kudos are fantastic and shouting out your love & adoration literally feeds our beloved writers' souls… which in turn, helps inspire more of the tremendous fics we all crave!! Do yourselves a favor and read these, relish in the phenomenal creations , and *PLEASE REBLOG* (even if you've read these), as someone out there might not have and these writers deserve ALL the attention they can get!!

@arxaris @shippeh @maraudermonkey @maplefudge @kingdomheartstrash @ashiiblack @foolishfortuna

#kiribaku fanfic rec list #ao3 fanfic #fanfic rec list #thank the authors #thank you followers

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boned-spy · 4 years

Text

TF2 Secret Santa 2019!

Merry Christmas/Smissmas @trashiny-draws!!! I was your Secret Santa this year! I heard you really love Scout and specifically fanfics of Scout so I did my best to make sure you got exactly that this holiday!

You offered so many great prompts to pick from so I decided to mash some together for you! I hope you enjoy it and have a wonderful day of celebration!

Also, your Secret Santa was super enjoyable for me to write so don’t feel bad for wanting so much Scout content! You deserve it, man! Also, I apologize if my writing is bad. It’s been years since I last wrote these characters.

Prompts I mashed together: “Takes place right after End of the Line”, “Scout is a Dumbass™ and needs help while stuck in the snow”, “Scout completely forgot about Sniper- BIG UH OH TIME”, “Team bonding and being a loving murder-family”, “Dad!Spy”(Strongly hinted)

_ -_-_-_-_-_

“Yo, hardhat! You drifting off on me? I didn’t even get to the best part yet!” Scout tittered, still sitting on the edge of his seat, wide-awake.

“Boy, you’ve been goin’ on about yourself for hours; from how ya woke up to what you ate for lunch. We’ve had a pretty long day ourselves and wanna get some shut eye before we start cleaning up all the debris outside tomorrow.” Engineer sluggishly bit back, cranky from exhaustion but unable to put any real heat into it. His eyes were clearly burning as he pulled his goggles off his face to rest along his neck, pinching the bridge of his nose to dispel the ache bundled there. With a sigh, he tried a little more gently as he met the runner’s gaze again, “You reckon you can wrap your story up soon, son?”

Scout took a quick glance around the dining hall and only then just noticed how worn out everyone looked. Medic, Spy, and Heavy looked bored. Tired bored. Demo and Soldier had settled down with their hands holding their heads, stubbornly trying to beat the sleep threatening to take over them any minute. And then there was Pyro. Scout couldn’t tell if Pyro was sleeping or still awake since they had been resting their head on the table ever since everyone sat down to eat a few hours ago.

If he wasn’t careful, Scout was on the verge of completely losing the group’s attention. And Scout could NOT have that.

“Psh, fine! I’ll get to the juicy bits then. Now where was I…? Oh!” Scout suddenly leaned forward conspiratorially as he began talking with his hands, hoping to get everyone in the room more invested in his story by doing so. “So there I was, freezing my ass off in the lookout. It must have been, like, negative 400 degrees. Probably. I couldn’t feel my toes, my fingers, or my gorgeous face! But did that stop me from my incredibly important duty? Hell no! I patrolled the crap out of that crappy shack like my life depended on it! And it totally did! Cause, ya see, right after circling the perimeter or whatever for like, the two hundredth time, my incredible Scout-hearing picked up the screeching of that train before it even passed by! You know, the one that almost killed us and all those poor, defenseless cat orphans?”

The room deadpanned at the expectant pause.

“Anyways, that’s when I turned to Snipes like the badass I was and told him to get his van started for us to chase it down. The guy was basically lost without me! ‘Was super busy peeing in jars and cleaning his rifle or whatever--“

“And where exactly is Sniper to back up these claims? I’m fairly certain he would have already poked a hole or two in this unbelievably long-winded and far-fetched tale of yours.” Spy cut in dryly, his stony expression largely unchanged since first sitting down earlier that evening.

The whole room stilled at the question, as it was a very good question.

For the first time in hours, the room stirred as seven sets of eyes (and Demo’s single eye) sleepily searched around the room for the Australian. After a moment, however, brows soon furrowed and heads turned at greater angles as they inspected the hall more attentively. Typically it wasn’t odd for the marksman to be missing, as everyone knew how much he enjoyed his privacy, but the team was well aware they hadn’t seen Sniper since the incident that day. Or with Scout afterwards, for that matter.

At the quiet but unified revelation, all eyes leveled suddenly on the Bostonian who was now sitting with his back ramrod straight at the scrutinizing stares, never mind the dawning horror that manifested quite clearly on his face.

“Scout? Where is Sniper?” Medic repeated the question cautiously, slowly. The air felt uncomfortably stiff as mere seconds of silence threatened to deafen them all.

The last Scout had seen of Sniper was when his van crashed into that rundown building hanging off the edge of the cliff after he jumped onto the train to try and stop it. He hadn’t seen if Sniper’s van stopped dead in the building or if it ran clean off the edge. And if it did happen to be the latter…

“Oh, my God.” Scout stood abruptly, banging his knees off the table with a yelp. “Aow! Oh, my God! Oh, sh- I gotta go! I GOTTA GO!”

The runner was already out the door and sprinting for the RED Bread truck by the time someone managed to shout after him to wait and explain himself. Scout had barely registered who it was and didn’t care to as he reached the garage and practically leaped into the driver’s seat to fumble with the keys already sitting in the ignition. He started the vehicle as quickly as he got inside of it, slamming the stick into reverse before peeling out of the base with a loud scream of wheels.

“Oh crap, oh my crap. Snipes, man, you better be super alive out there.” Scout muttered in a panic to himself, foot pressing harder on the accelerator as an intrusive thought interrupted his focus regarding how long the hopefully still-alive Australian had been missing for out in the extreme cold. The runner dared to sneak a peek at the digital clock resting above the vehicle’s transmitter and paled.

Seven hours. If Sniper was alive, he’s been sitting in the cold for seven freakin’ hours.

“Oh, God, this guy’s freakin’ dead! If he wasn’t dead before, he’s super dead now! He complained about the cold the whole freakin’ time and now he’s a Snipe-cicle. The poor bastard barely had a chance!” Scout ranted and raved out his nervous energy, still unfalteringly speeding towards the lookout up the mountain despite the words coming out of his mouth. “I should have offered him my gum, man. Chewing keeps you warm like talking keeps you warm. Now he’s gum-less and frozen to death. Way to go, Scout, you killed a guy by not giving him some damn gum!”

The video transmitter suddenly started blaring from the dashboard, startling Scout enough to veer the van off the side of the road with a terrified scream before hurriedly readjusting right back onto it, foot never letting off the pedal the whole incident. Hardly able to catch his breath from the scare, Scout blinked down at the ringing device before punching the button to ignore it. Whoever it was could wait. It was taking all his concentration to not crash and a conversation was the last thing he needed right now.

The dangerous drive up the mountain towards the wreck site took less than thirty minutes thanks to Scout’s reckless regard for his own safety, the bread van’s engine practically screaming for mercy by the time he wrenched the vehicle to the side of the snow-covered railroad tracks before hopping out.

It was a thousand times colder than it had been earlier in the day, nightfall dropping already cold temperatures to an insanely low degree. Sure, Scout had been spouting about Sniper’s death the whole drive there, but it was only then he realized how very probable it actually was.

The revelation had the runner feeling sick to his stomach, but he still pressed on and attempted to ignore his own hang-ups for his teammate’s sake. Flicking on the flashlight he had hurriedly stowed in his jacket pocket before launching himself from the truck, Scout approached the now dilapidated building with a sizable van-shaped hole. Light snowfall calmly blanketed the ground as he trekked, so thick that the runner had to lift his knees higher from the ground to avoid dragging them through the frozen terrain. Even the air felt harder to breathe from how cold it was.

“Snipes?” Scout called out with uncertainty, shining his light around and wincing at every broken board and tire tread mark he spotted, “You, uh, huddled in a corner around here or frozen to death or…?”

Scout finally reached the end of the destruction at the other side of the building, his flashlight illuminating a hole complimenting the one he entered just moments ago. His heart dropped into his stomach, sure that Sniper really had driven off the mountain and to his death, until his light reflected off a cracked side-door mirror that blinded him.

“Ugh!” Scout squinted with an annoyed grunt, perking up immediately when he realized exactly what he was just blinded by. As fast as he ran on the battlefield, he mindlessly sprinted for the driver’s side with a huge grin of relief, feeling silly he ever doubted Sniper’s survival to begin with. “Yes! Oh, thank God! Sniper, man, I thought you were—“

The runner stopped himself short as he shined his flashlight into the van, the door already kicked open and stuck, frozen solid. Small icicles formed along the roof of the interior, a thin coat of frost encompassing the entirety of the dash, and Sniper…

Sniper was curled in his seat, feet pressed flat against the window, arms braced against the back of where he sat, skin pale and violently shivering. Scout took a step forward instinctively to try and offer help only to squeak in surprise as he caught himself before walking completely off the edge of a cliff. A cliff, he finally registered, that the whole van had been teetering on for at least seven hours now.

“Oh sweet Jesus.” Scout grimaced, placing both hands on top of his head as he took in the puzzle he had to now solve, by himself, in zero degree weather.

He could totally do this.

“Okay. So, time to use that big brain of mine...” Scout muttered partly to himself as Sniper continued staring at him, too ridden with frostbite to speak or move. The youngest had no doubt that if the marksman had control or feeling in his facial muscles, he’d be glaring daggers at him right now.

The van seemed completely frozen, tires included, so Scout was pretty sure it could take a nudge or two without nose-diving off the mountain. Still, Sniper was frozen to the van too, so the Bostonian would need to do more than nudge to get him out.

Okay.

Scout clapped his hands together with determination, his resolution so plain on his face, Sniper’s brow just barely managed to knot in deep concern.

“You gotta work with me here, brotha. Just relax and let the expert get to work.”

Sniper’s eyes widened in alarm as Scout strode closer and leaned his body out over the edge to reach for the huntsman, fingers outstretched with effort before clamping down like vices into the frosty, stiff sleeve of Sniper’s shirt. His weight made the van groan, the vehicle budging by millimeters as Scout placed more of his weight into the front of it in order to get a better grip.

“S-s-s-st—S-top!” Sniper chattered desperately through gritted teeth, seeing more than feeling his van lurching ever so slowly forward towards the void below as Scout strained to gather more of his clothing into his hands.

“I got you, man! Just…! Almost!” Scout grunted with the effort, white clouds from his panting filling the air around them as he finally managed to gather Sniper’s jacket into his other hand. “Gotcha!”

Just as Scout poised himself to jerk Sniper out of the icy prison that was his seat with all his might, Sniper’s van tottered violently forward, dragging Scout with it as he lost his footing from the edge.

Scout screamed from the top of his lungs as he felt himself get pulled off his feet, fingers clenching for dear life onto the still-stuck Sniper in the van as he dangled in mid-air helplessly.

Wait. Dangled? Shouldn’t Scout be at the bottom of the mountain by now, body horribly twisted in metal and covered in broken jars of jarate?

“Well, that was idiotic.” A nasally voice chided from where Scout had been standing just seconds before.

Unable to swivel his head around to see who it was, Scout squawked as he felt the entire van tilt backwards and somehow reverse back onto solid ground, his body half-buried by snow as it was dragged away from certain death like a lifeless doll.

“Danke shoen, Heavy.”

“Mm.”

With a groan, Scout pulled his head from the unforgivingly cold fluff his face had been buried in and blearily blinked up at his mysterious saviors.

“Guys?”

“Guys?” Spy mocked, replicating the runner’s voice perfectly as he glared down in disapproval at Scout shakily rising to his knees, moodily tossing his spent cigarette into the blackness below. “The next time you decide to run off and ignore our calls, I may conveniently forget I placed a tracker on you and leave you to whatever fate your stupidity leads you to.”

“Tracker?!” Scout started patting himself down frantically.

“You will not find it.” Spy informed casually, shaking his head before turning his attention to Medic and Heavy, who had already dragged Sniper out from his van and were carrying him into Engineer’s truck to get him warmed up.

“What in Sam Hill were you thinking, boy?” Engineer came over to bend down and pick Scout back up on his feet, brushing the snow off his shoulders a little too roughly as he scolded him. “Running away without telling a soul where you were going or why, just to end up out here and nearly killing yourself and string bean over there. Did you knock your head earlier today or what?”

“I get it! Jeez!” Scout snapped back defensively, arms flung up in exasperated defeat. “But Sniper’s been sittin’ out here for hours! I had to do something!”

“And you could have done that something more effectively if you simply explained to us what had happened.” Spy bit back, his agitation and concern simmering under a cool, stern façade.

“Alright, that’s enough bickerin’ now. I’m too damn tired to put in the effort and it’s too damn late to be doin’ it.” Engineer wiped a hand over his face before slapping it onto Scout’s shoulder to give a firm squeeze. “We worried about ya, is all. We thought we lost Sniper and you and, well… We already dealt with a lot today, and you runnin’ off didn’t help much.”

Spy refused to meet Scout’s eyes as he nonchalantly pulled out another cigarette, avoiding Engineer’s gaze as well when the laborer glanced over pointedly at him as he spoke. Scout shot the Texan a confused look before Engineer shook his head with a sigh.

“Just don’t do it again.” Engineer patted Scout roughly on the back before moving away to check on Sniper, who was still sitting in his truck and trying to recover. The windows of the pickup glowed red from Medic’s medigun, doing his best to help the Australian along in healing his frostbite. He’d be in perfect health and ready to head back to the base in no time, Scout knew. And thinking back on it all, considering how easy saving Sniper was when everyone was involved, maybe it would have made more sense to bring the gang out with him.

Maybe Scout had kind of overreacted and made the whole rescue mission way harder than it needed to be. Especially on Sniper.

Feeling like a moron now despite genuinely trying to do the right thing, Scout stood and watched with his arms crossed as the other mercenaries milled about around him, rubbing his arms in an attempt to warm himself after rolling around in the snow.

“You’ve got guts, son!” Soldier’s voice boomed suddenly from behind him, causing Scout to yelp when a large, calloused hand slapped his back a little too hard. “Your bravery deserves a medal of honor! No man left behind! That’s what I like to see in this unit! Stop by my quarters later and we’ll celebrate your efforts the proper American way by training! With me! Hehehehe!”

Scout coughed and tried for a convincing smile at the offer, a small part of him appreciating the little bit of praise he was getting that night. He waved half-heartedly after the patriotic man with an uneasy chuckle as he passed him by with a massive grin on his face. “Oh, sure, yeah. I’ll have to try and remember when we get back to, uh, totally do that.”

“Ach, donnae worry, lad. It’s the wee hours of morning. ‘Ain’t a chance he’ll remember on the car ride home. He’ll be bloody asleep by the time we get back.” Demoman nudged Scout’s arm from behind as they watched Soldier march back to the truck to also check on Sniper. The two stayed standing side-by-side and observed for a few moments as the majority of the team hovered around the marksman just to make sure he was okay. Scout found himself smirking a little to himself at the rare sight.

“Like a fooked up family, we are. Eh?” Demo chuckled, pulling Scout into a quick, friendly side-armed hug. The Bostonian allowed it, but made a bit of a face at the affectionate contact, still feeling out of sorts from the whole incident he couldn’t help feeling was partly his fault. The demolitions expert picked up on it easily, however, and released him with a sigh. “Don’t let this eat’ya up, laddie. Just like I said, right? We’re one bloody mess of a family. If yer gonnae do something stupid, ya might as well include us.”

Scout snorted genuinely at that, shrugging but with a small smile on his face. “Yeah, yeah. I got enough brothers at home. I don’t need a bunch of dads to match.” He replied jokingly to deflect the rather sappy sentiment.

“A family’s what’cha make of it.” Demo shot back easily enough, earning him a look of surprise from Scout at the sincere wisdom from out of nowhere as the explosives expert idly searched his own person for his flask. He muttered to himself in dismay when he turned up with nothing, eyeing Sniper’s van before giving a groan of resignation. “Ach, mother o’ mercy. Must’ave left the bloody thing back home. Guess I’ll be in the van taking a bleedin’ nap until we get back then.” Demo gave a two-finger salute as he turned to leave. “Nighty night, lad.”

“Yeah, night.” Scout called after his shoulder.

The Bostonian turned back towards the loose crowd still hanging around the truck and allowed himself a warm, heartfelt smile.

Man.

Scout really had to pee now.

_ -_-_-_-_-_

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