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yurtletheturtlehenderson · 5 years

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Sick Day || Will Byers x Reader

Requested: "how about a will x reader where poor reader is sick so the boys decide to visit her and she’s acting really affectionate hugging will complimenting him trying to kid his cute cheeks even saying how much she likes him and coming back to school so embarrassed by that and scared of confronting the boys"

Pairings: Will Byers x Reader [you two are some shy adorable little babies]

The egg timer that you had set went off with a shrill ring. Cringing, you sat yourself up, and reached over turning it off. You had set the timer as a reminder to take the horrific cold medicine and now it was time to take another spoonful. It was disgusting and it make you gag. But you had been recovering quickly so it meant it was working.

Your face was scrunched up in disgust as you poured the gross goopy liquid out into the spoon, and set the bottle aside.

You sharply exhaled, bracing yourself for the foul taste and closed your eyes. It was even more disgusting than the last time and you felt an involuntary shiver run up your spine. Fortunately, you remembered to set aside your favorite juice to wash it down with, learning from your mistake of taking a swig of water.

Setting aside the medicine and setting the timer for your next dose, you slid yourself under the blankets once more. Nestling yourself up in the caccoon of blankets and pillows you had made for yourself on the couch. After all, you had the house to yourself for the day and you figured it didn't hurt to have some entertainment so the TV was on, the remote next to you.

The cold medicine shortly began taking effect. You could feel your eyelids grow heavy, and the next thing you knew you were being pulled from sleep by a loud thud, followed by a string of hushed whispers.

This of course concerned you, given nobody was supposed to be home until eight PM, but felt relief wash over you when you recognized one of the voices to be Dustin's who was cursing under his breath.

"Shit. Shit. Shit. Dammit. Motherfuc-"

"Dustin!" Will hissed under his breath. "Shut up! She's sleeping."

"I'm trying to" you slurred.

Great. You forgot how drowsy and loopy you got on this stuff. It was was easy to forget since you had been home alone while on it. With nobody to interact with, it was harder to tell.

"Y/n. I'm sorry, we didn't mean to wake you." Will said quietly. "We just thought we'd swing by and see how you were doing. We even brought your stuff from school. I took notes for you, so,"

"Really?" You asked, now on your side facing Will, Dustin, Lucas, Max and Mike. "Tha- Thas'sweet, thanks" you cooed, your brain foggy from sleep and cold medicine.

Will chuckled weakly, a genuine smile on his face. "No problem."

Dustin, who was still hopping on one foot, grasping his other was taking sharp breaths.

"Dude, what is your problem?" Lucas asked.

"I stubbed my fucking toe!" He exclaimed.

Max chuckled and Lucas rolled his eyes.

"There'ssome ice in the freezer," you slurred.

"Thanks," Dustin said, hobbling off to freezer in the kitchen.

"Have a seat" you mumbled, and the party looked at one another and shrugged, finding seats scattered across the living room.

Will ended up taking a seat near you, in case you needed anything. Something you appreciated.

"I missed you guys," you pouted, and sniffled, a combination of the cold and your emotions. "So much,"

They gave each other a confused look and looked back at you.

"Man, she's really out of it, huh?" Mike said.

"No kidding," Max said.

"Give her a break, she's been out sick all week" Will said, looking at them.

You smiled tearfully at Will. "You're so nice!" You whined.

Will chuckled, knowing you weren't thinking clearly from the meds.

"Thanks, Y/n," he said kindly.

It was quiet for a short minute, nobody knowing what to say when Dustin came back into the living room with a small baggie of ice.

You giggled, smiling weakly and you called out enthusiastically your friend. "Dustybun!"

Dustin's frowned at the name given to him by his girlfriend, and everyone burst into laughter. "Not cool, Y/n,"

"I like her like this," Lucas said.

"I like you too, Lucas. You're cool." You mumbled, snuggling up to your pillow, thinking he gave you a compliment.

"You're pretty cool too, L/n" He chuckled.

At that moment, your stomach growled, loud enough for everyone to hear, and you frowned.

"Do you want me go get you some food?" Will offered.

Your eyes closed, you sighed contently. "Yes pleeaase," you drawled.

Will got up and disappeared into the kitchen.

"Could he be any more obvious?" Dustin whispered.

Mike elbowed Dustin, shushing him.

"What? Like she'll remember this." Dustin argued.

You had been zoning out and suddenly you burst into a fit of giggles. The others looked at you skeptically but you were in your own little world.

Mike shrugged. "That's fair,"

At that moment, Will returned with a small snack and a glass of water. He walked over to where you were sitting and set the glass of water down on the side table and handed you the food.

"Here you go Y/n"

You looked up at him, he was looking at you kindly, waiting for you to take the food.

You were focused on his face. More specifically his, nose. You slowly reached up and touched his nose. "Boop."

He gave you an amused look, and chuckled nervously.

"Um, do you not want eat right now?" He asked awkwardly.

"No, I'm hungry." You stated confidently, and you struggled to sit up and get comfortable.

Noticing this, Will knelt down on his knees next to you on the couch and adjusted the pillow behind your back.

Your head felt heavy when you sat up, and you realized how sluggish your limbs felt.

You frowned. "My head is so much!" You exclaimed distressed.

"What?" He asked confused.

"You heard her, her head is so much!" Lucas laughed.

"Yeah!" You said.

"My head is heavy, duh!" You sent Will a look that said 'keep up, man' and looked at the others, Lucas in particular like 'can you believe this guy?'

Lucas, who was now thoroughly entertained, nodded along with you, encouraging you.

"But it's okay," you patted Will's cheek. "It's a good thing you're cute."

Will turned pink, and looked to others for help, but they only grinned back at him, eyes widened slightly, obviously happy with where this was going.

"Um, thanks?"

"You're welcome," you cooed. "You're so nice, and cute, an-and nice!"

"Thanks," he chuckled weakly.

"Tha-that's why I like you so much, silly!" You said matter-of-factly.

Max who had already found out about your crush on the boy, bit back a laugh, feeling bad for you, but also reveling in the fact that this was happening.

Everyone else was just as shocked, no more so than Will though of course.

"Um, I- uh," He stuttered, his face now scarlet. "Why don't you just eat a couple bites, and uh, we'll let you sleep some more. We've kept you up long enough. Besides, you need the rest."

You pouted. "But I don't want you to go."

"Yeah but you need your sleep. This cold really did a number on you,"

"Ugh!" You exclaimed suddenly, startling the group, and you gestured lazily to the bottle of cold syrup. "I hate that stuff! It's nasty and it made my brain tired,"

You didn't know how else to phrase it, your entire brain felt sluggish and you were barely making sense of this conversation.

A look of disappointment flashed across Will's face as he looked at the bottle. It disappeared quickly and he looked back at you.

"Yeah, which is why you need rest. That stuff is super strong,"

"It super sucks," you retorted, giggling at your joke.

"Yeah, it super sucks." He chuckled, looking at you fondly.

Will stood up and the others followed suit. "Alright, is there anything else you need before we go?"

You blinked rapidly, your brain still catching up. "There is one thing?"

"Yeah?" He raised his eyebrows, waiting for you to continue.

"A hug goodbye?" You asked, looking up at him innocently, your eyes still droopy.

He seemed taken aback, but complied leaning down to hug you.

Arms outstretched you engulfed him in a hug and as he pulled away you took the opportunity to kiss his cheek, making a small 'muah' sound that the others noticed.

He jumped slightly, and stood up quickly. Looking at you with wide eyes as he lightly touched his bright red cheek where your lips just were.

You giggled mischievously. "Now you're gonna get my germs"

+++

It was Monday morning, and you were finally back at school. You were bummed that you didn't get to stay at home all day but you were relieved you didn't have to deal with that shitty cold that made you miserable.

Plus you would get to see your friends. You barely remember them coming to visit you, and just like that bits and pieces came flowing back. Your face suddenly went pale.

You told Will you liked him. You told your crush you liked him and doted all over him in front of everyone.

Yeah, no, you couldn't show your face to them ever again. You had to get new friends. Sure it would suck, making new friends was a chore and it would suck never seeing them again but that was the price you had to pay. It just couldn't be helped.

Too bad.

"Y/n!"

And now it was time to leave the country.

Cringing to yourself, you sharply exhaled and tried to physically relax.

"Hey, Will."

"Hi Y/n," He said shyly, shuffling on his feet.

"What's up?" You prayed he didn't bring it up.

"I just, I wanted to see how you were feeling. You seemed, pretty out of it."

You sighed, looking anywhere but him. You stomach had a flurry of butterflies.

"Listen, I'm really sorry. I understand if you want some space for a while."

"Y/n it's fine."

"No, it's not."

"It's forgotten. Look, I know you were on some pretty heavy stuff so, it's fine, really. So you kissed me, who cares?" He shrugged.

You eyes nearly popped out of your head and you grew nauseous.

"I what?!"

Will faltered, somehow going pale and turning pink.

"Yo-You kissed me. Don't worry though, it was just on the cheek. It's fine, really."

You backed up slightly, and turned to face the wall of lockers and buried your face in it. You wanted nothing more than the floor to swallow you whole.

Sure you were relieved to hear you didn't actually kiss him but hell, this was still ridiculously mortifying.

"Oh God," you groaned.

"Y/n," his voice was soft and for the forgiving but you hated the pity.

You only groaned louder and shook your head no hoping that would do something to ease the embarrassment.

"I can't imagine what you must think of me." You sighed, prying yourself off the lockers, but you still refuses to meet his eye.

"Well," he said, fiddling with his hands and looking down at his feet. "I thought- I thought it was kinda sweet."

Your mouth ran dry and you looked at him for the first time and ripping your gaze away from your shoes.

"W-What?"

Will smile shyly, and looked around a bit before looking back at you. He took a deep breath and spoke, the words spilling out of his mouth quickly.

"What I'm trying to say is, I like you too Y/n."

Your heart started pounding, harder than it had been before if at all possible and a nervous but happy smile tugged at your lips.

"You do?"

"Yeah, I do." He smiled sheepishly and nodded his head. "In fact, everyone has kinda been teasing me about it for some time now," he laughed and you giggled along not believing this was happening.

Your eyes met and there was a silent but mutual understanding. He held out his hand, and looked to you fondly. The same look he had in his eyes when he saw you on Friday. A look he only gave you.

"Want to head to class together?"

You looked down at his outstretched hand and you took it, smiling brightly at him, finding it endearing how shy and sweet he was.

"I'd love to,"

A look of relief washed over Will and he beamed at you. Suddenly, his face scrunched up ever so slightly and you frowned. He brought his other arm up and sneezed into his elbow.

He looked back and you laughed. "Well, I guess you were right."

"What?"

"You did give me your germs."

The words you had said to him days ago came back to you and you instantly felt guilty.

"Oh Will, I'm sorry!"

He began laughing and you couldn't stop the giggles that arose from your chest, finding the situation humorous. You were also just so relieved at how things smoothed over.

Will caught his breath and smiled genuinely. "It's okay. It's a good thing you're cute."

You were taken by surprise at his boldness, but then you realized just what he had said. Having thrown your own words back at you from your drunken-like state and you laughed, running your free hand down your face.

"Oh God, let's just get to class" you giggled.

The pair of you started walking when he looked up at you.

"In all seriousness, even if I do get your cold," He shrugged, smirking. "It was worth it."

The flurry of butterflies in your stomach doubled in numbers, and your heart fluttered.

It was now your turn to be a blushing pink mess.

#requested #request #will byers x reader #will byers #imagine #will byers imagine #x reader #reader insert #noah schnapp #max mayfield #mike wheeler #dustin henderson #lucas sinclair

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lonelypond · 4 years

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Idol Protection Program: Breakfast With Mari

NicoMaki, Love Live/Love Live Sunshine!, 1.1K

Summary: Dia brings home a new friend. Very early in the morning.

“Mama, wake up.” Maki felt a tug on the blanket and forced her eyes open. Green, curious eyes, very familiar eyes stared at her. Nico had come home yesterday after a quick book tour, Dia was staying with the Matsuuaras, Ruby was in Tokyo with Maki’s parents, why was Dia here.

“MAMA!” Dia stomped. How had Maki given birth to anyone who had this much energy in the morning. Someone giggled. Maki didn’t recognize the note. She quickly checked to make sure she was entirely covered, kicked Nico gently, and answered her firstborn.

“Why are you here? We were going to pick you up later.”

“I told Mari Mom makes the best breakfasts.”

“Mari?”

Dia pointed, next to her, sandwiched between Dia and Kanan was a small blonde child with a too knowing glance.

“Ohara Mari. Our new friend.”

Kanan nodded, as serious as ever.

“Dia, your Mama’s carino e carino, but we eat at 5 star restaurants all the time.”

“I don’t cook.” Maki said.

“Mama’s not allowed to use the burners.” Dia announced.

Kanan decided to defend Maki, “Dia’s Mama knows all the best takeout places. They always give us extras.”

Maki needed to wake up Nico, get the children out of the bedroom so clothes could be found, and figure out how they all got here from the island. It was post dawn, but it must still be early. Probably pre ferry. Nico’s arm flung out, hitting her on the back, while Nico started snoring loudly.

Dia turned to Mari, “Mom came back from a tour for her Number One Best Selling Spy Romance yesterday. She’s exhausted from signing so many autographs.”

Maki knew that was not why Nico was sleeping so soundly, but…no distractions, children present.

Dia was never distracted, “We have to eat breakfast and go to Tokyo, Mama. Ruby misses Mom.”

“Maki?” Nico’s hand started to stroke Maki’s hip. That had to stop.

“Dia’s here.”

“What?” Nico shot up, Maki only barely grabbing enough of the sheet to remain PG-13. Mari giggled. Maki frowned.

“Bun, why are you here.” Nico always understood what the most important thing to ask was.

“I told Mari you make the best breakfast.”

“Of course, Nico does.” Nico refused to be distracted and spoke slowly, “But, Dia, how did you get here?”

“Kanan piloted her boat.”

Kanan, like Dia, was eight.

“Dia, you and Kanan are not allowed on that boat alone. We talked about this.”

“My grandfather came along.” Kanan smiled, “He needed some things from Numazu.”

Maki could feel Nico relax. “Oh good, make sure you tell him Nico’s going to stop by for some fish to make sushi now that she’s back in town.”

“Sushi’s easy.” Mari scoffed.

“That’s not breakfast food, Mom.”

“No, but Nico is talking to Kanan, who actually understands being respectful to adults.”

Kanan gleamed. Dia rolled her eyes.

“So what does your new friend like for breakfast?”

Mari smiled. “We have a chef from Italy at the hotel. Delizioso, frittatas, cornettos, light like angel wings, and coffee.”

“Dia, no coffee.” Nico snapped instantly.

“Or espresso.” Maki added, having a sudden vision of letter-of-the-law Dia caffeinated, issuing dictates at hyperspeed.

“Hotel.” Nico muttered, then turned her attention back to the children, with a blast of a Nico forcing it smile, “You girls go play in Dia’s room while her Mama and I put on our best breakfast outfits.”

Or any outfit, Maki thought, becoming increasing uncomfortable with Mari’s stare.

“Right. Mama’s going to help Mom change. It always takes awhile. C’mon.”

Nico sounded like she was choking, but Maki had suddenly found a need to smash her own face into a pillow. No one warned you about this part of parenthood.

The line of earnest faces trooped diligently out of the room, following Dia. As soon as the door closed, Maki leapt out of bed and grabbed her robe.

“Nico came back for this.”

“Dia bringing new friends home at...” Maki glanced at her phone, “7:37 a.m.”

“No, your pajamas.”

“Can we skip the flirting.”

“Nope. Nico never skips flirting with the sexy mother of her serious daughter.”

Maki groaned, “So serious. How did that happen.”

Nico had her hands on Maki’s hips and there was a pause for serious kissing. “I blame Umi.”

Maki’s thoughts were scattered, Nico always smelled so good in the morning, even after goopy mask nights, but especially after...Maki felt a pinch. “What?” Why was Nico mentioning someone else in the middle of kissing.

“We let Umi babysit Dia too often.” Another kiss.

“Better a junior Umi than a junior Nozomi. Besides,” And here Maki stole a kiss of her own, “She takes after you. We had to have Santa bring her a whiteboard for Christmas so she could rank and rate Idol groups for Ruby.”

Nico put one hand over her heart, “Nico’s proudest moment as a mother.”

Maki frowned. “Well, now Nico, Jr. expects you to make the Number One Breakfast in the universe. For an Ohara. What are you going to do?”

In like 5 seconds, Nico was suddenly in a cooking mom outfit. Nico hadn’t lost her knack for quick costume changes. And this, once Nico put her patchwork pink heart apron on, was definitely a costume.

“They’re Italian, right? And American?”

“I think so.”

“Then Nico is going to pull out every Russian recipe Eli ever gave her and make sure to sweeten it. I’m betting sweet tooth.”

“Well…”

Nico’s phone went off. Dia’s ringtone. “Hmmm...maybe not a sweet tooth.”

“Huh?”

“Dia informs me that Mari likes lemons.”

“We are going to make sure no one feeds Dia limoncello.”

“Obviously.” Nico agreed, face racing through her frantic thinking expressions. Maki had missed this show. “Did you get all the groceries on my list?”

Maki nodded, deciding now that kissing had stopped and menu picking had started she would get dressed.

“Put on the lacy ones. Nico wants a treat.”

Maki pulled out more practical underwear, “We’re heading to Tokyo remember.”

“Pack ‘em.”

“Breakfast, Nico-chan?”

“Blini, buckwheat blueberry, probably. Eli and Nozomi are supposed to bring the twins down next weekend, so Nico stocked up on Eli favorites.”

“I hid the chocolate from Dia.”

“Good idea. Now go and check on Dia before they decide to head back to the Ohara for breakfast.

“Oh yeah.” Maki pulled a tank top over her head, “Love you, Nico-chan. Welcome home.” Maki kissed Nico on the cheek as she raced to check on the children.

“Everybody missed Nico.” Nico announced to the universe, as happy as any audience had ever made her. She picked up her phone to text Ruby a good morning snap. Ruby would love this smile.

A/N: Just watched the Love Live Sunshine! movie and I continue to be fascinated by the third years as small children vs. NicoMaki as parents. So here you go. My ongoing AU's are still ongoing, I'm halfway through a chapter in most of them, Stay-At-Home Shakespeare just wrapped up so I'm a little exhausted, I'm doing a few AU Yeah August prompts to get back into writing mode so hmu if there's something you want to read. Stay safe.

#NicoMaki #Nishikino Maki #Yazawa Nico #Idol Protection Program #parenting fluff #Kurosawa Dia #Ohara Mari #Matsuuara Kanan #fluff

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of-a-chaotic-mind · 4 years

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Big Sister Part 1

Summary: Jo goes on a hunt with (Y/n), Dean, and Sam after her mother told her not to. (Y/n) had worked it out with Ellen and had almost negotiated taking Jo hunting with her. Jo’s stunt blows that out of the water but (Y/n) still has hope.

TW/CW: Lots of swearing, heavy arguing, Jo Harvelle x platonic!reader, Dean Winchester x Reader, angst, ghost stuff, yeah

A/N: I may only make this a two-part thing. I haven’t worked out the details yet. I hope you all enjoy it! Requests and Asks are open as always!

Your POV

As Sam, Dean, and I go to get in the car to leave for L.A., we hear yelling from inside the bar. “I’ll take care of it,” I tell them. They follow anyway as I head inside to see what Ellen and Jo are arguing about this time. As I enter, I find Ellen and Jo arguing that Jo can’t go hunting. I place a hand on Jo’s shoulder just as she is about to say something, “Jo, stop. Listen to your mother.”

“And that’s another thing!” JO lashes out, “How come (Y/n) gets to go hunting but I can’t?”

“Because she’s more experienced than you, Jo! She knows how to work the job,” Ellen yells back.

“How do you think she got that way? I can’t get experienced if I never go!” Jo is fuming at this point.

I stop her as she tries to punch a pillar, “Jo, what d’ya got?” I shoot Ellen a look that says let me talk her down and she returns to the counter to cool off.

She hands me a file as Dean and Sam walk up behind me. I read through, as does Dean over my shoulder. An apartment building in Philidelphia, Pennsylvania has a handful of missing girls who all have the same appearance. I look to Dean and Sam, “You guys go on to L.A. I’ll handle this case.”

Jo looks hopeful, but Dean insists on going with me. Ellen will never let Jo go if Dean and Sam are there. I decide to try anyway, “Hold on a sec,” I say as I hand Jo her file back. I make my way over to Ellen. She shoots me a threatening look but I ask anyway, “Why don’t you let her check this one out with us? You know I’ll keep her safe.”

Ellen answers quietly so that the other three don’t hear, “I’m not ready to trust those boys yet, even if you are there.”

I sigh, knowing Ellen won’t back down from this one, “Jo, you’re sitting this one out, maybe you can come next time. We’ll take care of this case.” Jo doesn’t even answer and storms out instead. I look to Dean and Sam and head out the door. The three of us pile into the impala and I know in my gut that Jo won’t back down from this.

Once we get to Philly, our first stop is to check out the apartment. As we scan the rooms with emf readers, Dean speaks up, “So, what was all of that about with Ellen and Jo?”

Keeping my back turned to him, I answer, “Nothing, Ellen just doesn’t want her hunting yet.”

Before Dean can pry further, Sam yells from the other room, “Guys, come look at this.”

We join him to find something goopy seeping from the wall around the power socket. Dean sticks a finger in it before bringing it to his nose to smell, “So, we’re dealing with the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man? It’s ectoplasm.”

As we leave the apartment, we hear voices down the hall and hide in an alcove. As the voices get closer, I can recognize the female as Jo. We step out into sight; Jo is telling the man that she is really interested in the apartment. Upon seeing us she walks right up to Dean, “Hey, Deano. Have you checked out the apartment yet?”

Hearing Dean’s yes causes the apartment manager to ask who he is and how he got in. Dean quickly responds that it was open before Jo changes the subject, “Sorry, this is my boyfriend Dean and his buddy Sam and my sister (Y/n) but yeah, we’ll take it,” and hands the manager a wad of cash.

As we enter the apartment, I shoot Jo my strongest death glare, “What the hell are you doing here, Jo? I told you to sit this out.”

“I told mom that I’m going to Vegas. You guys need bait,” she responds simply, not making eye contact.

I grab her arm and spin her to look at me, “I was so close to getting your mother to let me take you hunting and you just blew that out of the water, because as soon as she figures out where you went she’ll never trust me again.”

“She won’t find out. I had Ash create a paper trail that puts me in Vegas,” she spits back.

Just then my phone begins ringing and it shows Ellen’s contact. I answer, “Hey, Ellen.” Jo gives me a look and mouths, “Do not tell her.” I look to Dean and his face confirms my expectation. We can’t take her back now. She has to stay until we’re done. As Ellen finishes her spill on the other end of the line, I answer, “Nah Ellen, I haven’t seen her, but I’ll be sure to keep an eye out. -- Yes, I’m sure. -- Alright bye.”

I turn on Jo, “You better have found something pretty damn good or I’ll walk your ass back to Nebraska myself.”

She lays out all her papers for the three of us to see. Eventually, we get to the point that we realize who and what we’re dealing with and we separate to go into the walls. Jo’s bright idea puts me with Sam and her with Dean and neither of the guys argues with her because they’re just ready to finish the case.

As we meet back in the apartment after Dean’s urgent call, I notice we’re missing a certain blonde. I look at Dean with a death glare, “What the hell happened?”

“I couldn’t fit. So, she went on ahead before I could stop her... He got her. (Y/n), I’m so sorry,” he answers timidly.

Before I can tear him a new one, my phone rings again. I hit the green answer button and before I can even get a breath out, she’s yelling. Once she pauses for breath, I jump in, “Ellen, I’m sorry. I’ll have her back as soon as possible but we can’t leave right now. We just got a lead and if we stop now, we may never catch this thing.” I listen to her berate me on the other end before responding, “Ellen, you know she’s like my little sister. I’ll keep her safe.” She says something along the lines of, “Damn right you will,” before hanging up.

Without even thinking or hesitating, I throw a punch into the wall. Thankfully it was drywall and not the brick.

“Woah, easy tiger. We’ll get her back,” Dean states.

“That’s not what I’m worried about. If I can’t get Ellen to trust me enough to take her hunting then she’ll go on her own, and if she’s alone then she won’t have backup and something could happen.

Dean inspects my bloody knuckles before pulling me into a hug, “We’ll get her back.”

“Guys, I think I know where he’s keeping them,” Sam says before pointing to a sewer system under the building, “It’s no longer in use.”

Sam takes one look at the map before we rush off to find the entrance. After some metal detecting and some crawling through pipes, we find the girls. We lay a trap and manage to trap the spirit in a salt ring. As we stand at the entrance of the sewer, Jo asks, “What happens if the salt gets messed up?”

Sam points to a cement truck backing onto the lot, “That’s what that is for.” Dean gets out of the truck and the two men drop the spout and pour cement into the hole.

The car is filled with silence as we head back to the roadhouse. Upon our arrival, Ellen is waiting for us on the porch. As we get out of the car, Ellen speaks coldly, “I’d like to talk to my girls alone.”

The guys don’t push their luck and stay back as Jo and I head into the bar. Once inside, Jo starts, “Mom, you can’t protect me forever. I was with (Y/n), you trust her with even your own life.”

Ellen glares at me now, “You lied to me. You lied to me and because of it, my daughter could’ve been killed.” Knowing she isn’t finished; I hold my tongue and sure enough, she continues, “To make matters worse, you let those boys stay and help instead of just sending them off. You should be ashamed for hanging out with them, let alone being interested in one of them.”

This is where I draw the line and I interrupt her, “You can’t blame them for what happened, Ellen! They weren’t there! They’re not like John!”

Jo stops us both, “What the hell are you two talking about?” As Ellen tells Jo what happened to get William killed, I grit my teeth. The nerve of this woman to think Dean and Sam are like their father.

Ellen and Jo turn to me before Jo storms out the door. I don’t even bother with Ellen and instead go after Jo, hoping that she’ll have more sense.

As I follow after her, I yell, “Damnit, Jo. Slow down.”

She whips around to face me and before I can even register that we shouldn’t have this conversation in earshot of Dean and Sam as we are, she begins her rant, “How the hell can you trust them and still know that!? You’re a disgrace and I wish I had never trusted you!”

Not able to withhold my rage any longer, I shove her and then get up close in her face, “Don’t you dare say that to me. I was so close to being able to take you hunting like you wanted. I have busted my ass and negotiated to hell and back for you and you just threw it away. Jo, if it weren’t for me, you’d still be in that bar, sitting on your ass, and doing nothing but hustling. If it weren’t for me, your mother would’ve never let you near Ash’s research. They--,” I point back towards the guys, “-- don’t deserve this bullshit you and your mother are giving them. They don’t even know about it! As for that little stunt you pulled back at the apartment, back off from Dean because you know he’s always been mine. Now you get your ass back in there and apologize to your mother and grovel like you’ve never groveled before because, in a few days, I’ll be back to see if I can smooth things over with your mother.”

She stands still, staring at me in shock as she timidly speaks up, “(Y/n), I --”

I interrupt her, “Go!” I turn to punch whatever is closest, which just so happens to be the impala.

Dean steps in front of me and catches my hand, “Not the car, Sweetheart. Punch me if you need to punch something.” I simply lean into him as he wraps his arm around me and holds me tight. Once I pull away, he brushes the hair out of my eyes, “What was that about, ‘he’s mine’?”

My eyes go wide as the realization hits, “Dean, I --”

He interrupts me with a kiss before answering, “I guess that makes you mine, Baby.”

Surprise washes over my features as I stumble out a response, “Wait, really?”

He nods his head but Sam has a more pressing question, “What do we not know about, (Y/n)?”

I take a deep breath before explaining, “William wasn’t alone on his last hunt. Your dad was with him and he screwed up. His mistake got William killed. That’s why Ellen doesn’t trust you guys. Jo just found out.”

Dean looks at me, concern written over his features, “Do you need to stay?”

I shake my head, “No, let them cool off. Besides, we still have that case in L.A.”

He nods as well as climb into the car. I take one last look out the window at the roadhouse before I doze off for the night.

Masterlists

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queenofcats17 · 4 years

Note

If you may recall, I once asked what a BATIM-Cuphead genre swap would be like. You did have an idea for a BATIM version of Cuphead, but what about the other way around? (Assume there are no BATIM characters in the latter)

Hmm...Let’s see...

I wouldn’t want it to take place in an animation studio since that’s so integral to BATIM’s plot. So I think Cuphead in the style of BATIM would take place in an abandoned casino.

I think it would follow a similar structure of defeating bosses, but it would have the BATIM thing of delving deeper and deeper into the place they’re trapped. Instead of venturing deeper into an animation studio, it’s going deeper into an impossibly massive casino.

Like BATIM, this is gonna be pretty heavy on the body horror. I understand that you don’t really like that, but I think it would fit here.

The casino was once owned by King Dice (not his real name), and there are rumors that he made a deal with the Devil to ensure the success of his casino. It went out business years ago, although no one knows why. Cuphead and Mugman sneak in to satisfy their own curiosity and, in Cuphead’s case, get a thrill. Obviously, their names wouldn’t actually be Cuphead and Mugman, but...Well, they’ll be referred to that way.

So, Cuphead and Mugman sneak in and find the main lobby of the casino empty. It’s covered in dust and it doesn’t look like anyone’s been there for years. Cuphead immediately heads for Dice’s office, with Mugman trailing behind him. When they get to the office, they find it’s not empty. A man they recognize as Dice is seated at the desk, while another stands behind him, one hand on Dice’s chair. Dice greets the brothers warmly, asking what brings them to his humble casino. Both brothers find themselves unable to speak as Dice continues.

He tells them that he’s had a bit of trouble as of late with some of the casino patrons. They’ve been causing a ruckus and he needs someone to set them straight. He can’t do it himself because he has other things he needs to do.

“How’d you boys like a job?” The man behind Dice asks, and his voice sends shivers down Cuphead and Mugman’s spines. He pulls out two contracts from his huge fur coat, holding them out. Cuphead speaks for the two of them, trying to cover his fear with bravado by saying they’d be happy to do the job.

Mugman tries to stop his brother, but it’s too late. Cuphead is already signing the contract and Mugman’s hand is moving on its own, signing the contract too. Once the contracts are signed, they began to glow, and the man in the fur coat reveals himself to be the Devil. And since the brothers signed the contracts, their souls now belong to him.

With a snap of his fingers, the Devil transforms them into something resembling their Cuphead selves, (They’d previously been human) and it’s revealed that Dice looks like his Cuphead counterpart as well. Dice says that if the brothers don’t collect the boss’ souls, they’ll be stuck like this forever and added to the collection of souls trapped in the casino. The brothers are then booted out to take care of the bosses.

I think the bosses would still be grouped similarly to how they are in the original game. Like, each floor would have a collection of bosses that Cuphead and Mugman would need to defeat. To add to the survival horror element, perhaps certain bosses require certain items to defeat them and the brothers have to find the items on the floor before they can take down the boss. I figure each boss would be confined to their own room.

Each boss is someone who has sold their soul to the Devil at some point or another.

Here’s what I envision for each of the bosses.

Floor 1

The Root Pack: The three of them still look mostly human, but vegetables are growing out of their bodies like tumors. It looks as though their respective vegetables are trying to take them over. They’re dressed like farmers, although their clothes are ripped and torn by the vegetables. Like in the original Cuphead, their attacks involve sending vegetables after the brothers. The vegetables crawl after the brothers, screaming in pain as they do. The Root Pack can be defeated by burning them, using kerosene and matches found in the hallway. Their room is filled with dirt and vegetables.

Goopy Le Grande: He’s humanoid, but made entirely of blue goo. His body is constantly dripping, revealing the skeleton underneath. He’s not wearing any clothes, but it’s not like he has genitals or anything. He attacks by stretching parts of his goo body and trying to smash the brothers. I can’t think of how he’d be defeated, but I’d think it would involve removing his bones from the goo and destroying them. His room resembles a large boxing ring.

Ribby and Croaks: They look like some horrifying mix of human and frog. They wear their boxing gear from the original game. They fight like boxers, punching at the brothers and chasing them around the room. Their movements are just a little too frog-like to look natural. Their room resembles a bar, like the area you fight them in in the original game.

Hilda Berg: She resembles a broken automaton, clockwork visible through the broken skin. Her room is larger than the others on the floor and much darker, illuminated by simulated stars on the ceiling. She does fly around and the brothers have to shoot her down and attack her from there. The more she’s attacked, the more her body breaks apart and the less human she appears.

Cagney Carnation: Similar to the Root Pack, he still looks mostly human, although instead of vegetables growing out of his body he had flowers and vines. Like the Root Pack, he too can be dispatched by burning. His room is a lot like the Root Pack’s in that it’s filled with dirt. But his has giant creeping roots and vines all over.

Floor 2

Baroness Von Bon Bon: She looks pretty much like she does in the original game with the exception that she holds her head in her hand. Her stump of a neck is constantly bleeding and she cries blood. Her area is similar to the original game in the sense that there’s candy everywhere. But here, the candy is broken and dirty. The way to defeat her is the destroy her head. She attacks with a shotgun or by sending rotting and broken candies after the brothers.

Djimmi the Great: His area looks like the inside of a pyramid and is literally covered in sand. Djimmi himself looks like a red cloud of smoke wrapped in rags and is rather hard to hit. He summons a lot of other enemies like in the original game. I think to defeat him you’d have to suck him into his lamp or something.

Beppi the Clown: It probably wouldn’t be that hard to make Beppi scary. I’d still want him to be made out of balloons, though, because it would be cool if he was defeated by popping him. His room looks like a run-down carnival or circus big top. He attacks by sending balloon animals and sentient amusement park rides after the brothers.

Wally Warbles: I’m honestly not sure how to make Wally terrifying. Maybe a huge sickly bird still halfway stuck in a birdhouse? Maybe he’s still trying to protect his son. His room would probably look like a nest. He’d attack by pecking at the brothers and swiping at them with his wings.

Grim Matchstick: He’s just a huge dragon. Because I love dragons and imagine how terrifying it would be to have to face a dragon when you’re like 12 and have been through everything the brothers have. To make this even sadder, the whole time they’re fighting, Grim is begging for mercy. He just wants to be left alone. But the brothers need to collect his soul to be freed.

Floor 3

Rumor Honeybottoms: Her room looks like a hive, covered in honey and swarming with giant bees. Giant realistic-looking bees. Rumor herself is a mix of bee and human features. Meaning parts of her are human and parts of her are bee. It’s not blended at all. Makes me shudder just thinking about it. The honey everywhere makes it hard for the brothers to move, which makes it easier for the huge bees to attack them.

Captain Brineybeard: I think it would be cool if he looked like the zombie pirates from Pirates Of The Carribean. His room looks a lot like the deck of a ship and is a good deal smaller than other rooms. Not a lot of room to run and/or hide. The brothers get swords to attack him with.

Cala Maria: Her room looks like a beach. When the brothers enter, she has her back to them as she cries on the sand. She looks normal from the back, but when they get closer, she turns around to reveal that she basically looks like a mix of Medusa and a very scary mermaid. Lots of sharp needle teeth, snakes for hair, slimy skin, and way too big eyes that look more suited to seeing in the darkness of the deep sea. The brothers have to avoid looking at her because she’ll turn them to stone. It would be cool if the brothers reflected her petrifying gaze back on her and broke her apart when she turned to stone.

Floor 4

Dr. Kahl’s Robot: A horrifying mix of machine and flesh so integrated it’s unclear whether he was first a machine or a man. He begs for death while the brothers are fighting him, his voice a mix of a mechanical voice box and a human voice. His area is a junkyard like in the original game, filled with trash and machine parts. He shoots lasers and stuff out of one of his arms as his body moves against his will to kill them.

Werner Werman: His room looks like a WWI trench and he looks like a WWI soldier. The brothers have to dodge constant gunfire from all directions as they attempt to make their way to Werner. Werner acts like there’s a war going on, thinking the brothers are enemy soldiers. He thanks them when they finally kill him.

Sally Stageplay: She looks like her game counterpart, except that she’s noticeably more bloody and disheveled, and she’s on strings. She’s puppeted around by some unseen force in the ceiling. I imagine her fight would be similar in that she’s performing a play in a theater. The brothers need to cut her strings to defeat her.

The Phantom Express isn’t a boss. They arrive to take the brothers to the bottom floor of the casino. They all look like living corpses who don’t talk much to the brothers.

(Sidenote, every time the brothers ‘die’, it gets harder for them to remember their human lives and more of their bodies turns into porcelain.)

Final floor

After beating all the bosses, Cuphead and Mugman reach the bottom of the casino, where Dice and the Devil are waiting for them. Dice commends them on a job well done and the brothers demand to be returned to normal. The Devil first demands the souls. The brothers refuse to hand over the souls until they’re returned to normal.

The Devil is frustrated by this and tells Dice to take care of it before vanishing. Which leads to the brothers fighting him and his casino mini-bosses. Some of the bosses would be scarier if they were humanized a bit. Like Pip and Dot could be sewn together. Mangosteen alone is nightmare fuel. Leave him how he is.

Upon defeating Dice, the brothers then have to go up against the Devil. I don’t think you’d have to do much work to make that boss fight scary. It’s already scary.

The brothers do eventually defeat him, forcing him to burn their contracts and release them. They then release the souls of those trapped in the casino and leave, vowing to never try something like this ever again.

It’s getting late and I ran out of steam near the end, but I hope you like it! :D

#cuphead #cuphead genre swap #body horror tw #violence tw #gore tw #blood w

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rena-rain · 5 years

Text

The Shortcut Home ch. 8

Chapter 7

Alya almost missed the dark wooden box on her bedside table when she got home. Her breath hitched when she recognized it. She picked it up and sat on the bed, fingers tracing the edges reverently. Why do they need Rena Rouge again after four years? Why isn’t Ladybug here to deliver the miraculous herself? Why leave it waiting for me? Do I get to keep it permanently this time?

She opened the lid. Instead of the orange glow she was once accustomed to, a pink ball of light flashed in front of her and flew around her head. A rose-colored kwami emerged as the light faded and opened a pair of eyes like blue marbles.

“What’s going on? Where’s Trixx? Who are you?”

Instead of the fox kwami’s throaty, sandpaper voice, this one spoke at a pitch only jingle bells had any right to achieve. “Hello, Alya. I’m Tikki. Ladybug needs you again but this time not as Rena Rouge.”

“Not Rena Rouge? Then what…” Alya trailed off as she looked into the box that had a pair of red and black spotted studs inside. “Are those...no…”

“Yes. Ladybug needs you to stand in as Ladybug.”

“But why? What happened to her?”

“She’s fine, trust me. She just needs to take a leave of absence from being a superhero. Ladybug is trusting you to take her place until she can return.”

“Whoa…” Alya gazed at the earrings. She could hardly believe it. “This is a dream, right?”

Tikki sighed sadly. “No, it’s not.”

“Hey,” Alya cupped her hands underneath the kwami, and she sank down to perch in her hold. “I promise I won’t let her down. I know you miss the real Ladybug, but I’ll do my best, okay?”

“I’m confident in you, Alya. Trixx has only the best things to say about you! And so does M - Ladybug!”

Alya twitched an eyebrow. “Why, Tikki, did you almost spill Ladybug’s identity?”

She puffed up with pride. “I am physically incapable of doing such a thing.”

“Really?”

“Watch.” Tikki started talking and bubbles immediately poured from her tiny mouth. “Same thing would happen if Trixx or I tried to say your name to someone.”

“That’s one hell of a magical insurance policy. Tikki, can you at least tell me why Ladybug needs me to fill in?”

“She trusts you, Alya. You have to trust her, too.”

Alya gingerly took the earrings out of their box. In her hand, the pattern morphed into a pair of beautiful gold discs. She put them into her ears. “I love gold jewelry.”

Tikki giggled. “It suits you.”

The weird jelly the ultrasound tech spread across Marinette’s abdomen was cold. She hissed and Adrien squeezed her hand. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah it’s just chilly.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here for the first appointment.”

“You’ve apologized a thousand times already, it’s fine. You had to work.”

“I’m just nervous.”

“Don’t worry about her, darling,” the tech told him. “I’ve done this countless times. Aaaaand… here’s your baby.”

A steady thumping sound filled the room; the baby’s heartbeat. On the grainy screen Marientte could make out the shape of a tiny infant. It looked more human than her last appointment. She heard Adrien’s breath hitch beside her.

“So you can see the head here,” the technician pointed at the large circle that was about the same size as the rest of the body. “If you look closely there’s the nose right here. And here,” she traced a white arc on the screen, “the spine is developing.”

“Wow,” Marinette breathed. Her eyes prickled, vision swimming, and she wiped at the tears so she could still see her baby. The image spastically showed them wiggling around.

“I’ll print out some images. I can also give you the full recording, if you’d like.”

“Yes, yes, absolutely yes!” Marinette told her.

“All right, everything looks good.” The tech removed the wand from Marinette’s skin and gave her some paper towels to wipe off the gel. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Marinette turned to Adrien once they were alone. He looked dumbstruck, still staring at the black screen. “Adrien?” She cupped his cheek.

He opened his mouth but no words came out. He just looked at her with sparkling, happy eyes and she grinned at him. “I know. Me too.”

As he clasped her hand with both of his and kissed her fingers, she pictured him kissing their baby’s forehead like that. Cradling them in his arms with that speechless joy on his face. Walking into the living room to see him asleep on the couch with their baby asleep on his chest. Adrien flying a spoonful of goopy baby food into their mouth while making silly airplane noises. Getting jostled awake because he’d shot out of bed in the middle of the night to comfort his crying child.

Marinette could picture it all; warm fantasies of a life she hadn’t dared imagine since she was fourteen years old.

How could a heart so full hurt so much?

She’d come close to telling him her greatest secret so many times in the past couple days. She wanted him to know. But when she finally admitted it, she’d be taking a huge leap of faith, and she couldn’t seem to push herself past balancing on the precipice. She would lean forward, about to jump, and seize up with terror, throat closed and breath punched from her lungs. Marinette felt paralyzed from the fear that Adrien would never trust her again.

Alya’s costume looked different from Ladybug’s. There was still a yoyo slung around her waist. The bodice sported the same pattern of red with black spots. The biggest difference she could see in front of her mirror was her mask was solid red and her suit was completely black at her hands, feet, shins, and forearms, imitating skin-tight boots and gloves. It reminded her oddly of her Rena Rouge outfit, minus the coattails. Her hair had darkened to a deep blackish auburn and was done in a low ponytail.

She hoped Chat Noir knew she was coming to patrol tonight and not the regular ladybug. Otherwise this was going to be an awkward conversation.

Rena Rouge was used to jumping from building to building. Swinging from a yoyo was an entirely different experience, wilder and just as exhilarating. She found Chat Noir waiting at the top of the Eiffel Tower. He was perched on one of the railings.

He gave her a smirk that dripped with bravado. “‘Evening, Rena Rouge. Red looks good on you.”

Alya slung the yoyo back around her hips, relieved. “So you know why I’m here?”

“Because Ladybug needs a little medical leave and she trusts you to take up the mantle for a while.”

“Medical?” Tikki hadn’t said anything about that. “Is something wrong?”

Chat Noir bit his lip then swung off the rail. “She’s okay. But if your kwami didn’t go into more detail then I must also respect my lady’s wishes.”

She chuckled. “Loyalty. I like it. What does that make me?”

“Hmmm. I suppose you do need your own name in the meantime. How about Ladybird?”

“I’m down with that. Shall we, Chat Noir?”

“We shall.”

After his photoshoot, someone knocked on the door of Adrien’s trailer. He threw on his jacket. “Come in.”

Marinette came in and closed the door behind her. She looked beautiful in a dark green dress with rose accents. She was starting to really show, at least if you knew to look for it. His heart leapt in his throat; it’d been doing that a lot lately, when he saw her, like his best-kept secret was trying to escape and reach her. Adrien kept waiting for the right moment to let the words loose - I’m Chat Noir - but they’ve yet to leave his lips.

Instead, he smiled at her. “Hey, Marinette. The shoot just ended, do you want to go get dinner?”

“No. Well, yes, I’m a bit hungry, but that’s not why I’m here. I need to talk to you first. Privately.” She was fidgeting a lot. Shifting her weight, playing with her hair, chewing her lip. Something was making her nervous.

“What is it?”

Marinette walked closer to him. “Well, I’ve been thinking about this a lot and there’s something I should tell you.”

“You’re not going to tell me you’re pregnant, are you?” Adrien asked dryly.

The joke had the desired effect. She laughed her cute, surprised laugh that he loved hearing. She put a hand against her belly. “No, but it’s something just as big, just as important. I...I’m…”

Marinette trailed off, staring at him. She was one of the few people Adrien could make eye contact with easily. Instead of intimidating, her dark blue irises were oddly comforting.

And familiar.

He may not have the best track record reading people’s faces, but Marinette was very expressive, and he’d known her for over a decade. He could swear he saw the exact same apprehension in her eyes that he felt lodged in his throat. Like they were gearing up to do the same thing.

Adrien took in her cerulean eyes and her midnight hair. He looked down at her growing baby bump then at her missing round earrings - the ones she seemed to never take off until a couple days ago.

“Yeah?” he prompted her.

“I...think we should seriously consider what your dad said about getting married.” Her words flooded out of her in a rush.

He breathed out a sigh. He was just being paranoid. Women in their twenties got pregnant and changed earrings all the time; this was hardly a damning coincidence. And Miraculous holders’ hair changed when they transformed, so any similarities on a civilian meant little. Of course that’s not what she wanted to tell him, what were the odds they were both…

Marinette’s words finally sunk in. “Wait, what? You agree with him?”

“Not exactly. I probably shouldn’t have led with that.”

“A wedding is his way of controlling me, and by extension, you.”

“I know. But also...um, come on.” She sat down in one of the puffy blue chairs in his trailer and gestured for him to take the other one. Yeah, sitting’s probably a good idea right now.

“I won’t say your dad wasn’t inconsiderate on the phone. But you said before said he was being protective. It got kind of overshadowed by the job offer thing, but when he called he was, for lack of a better word, imploring me. I think he’s really worried. And I’ve started to think, for once, it’s for good reason..”

Adrien was not prepared for this conversation. “What did he say to you?”

“He made some valid points. Like it or not, you’re famous, Adrien. I want our family to be as drama-free as possible and the press will have a field day with an unplanned pregnancy.”

“The press is archaic.”

“Exactly. They’ll call us horrible names and judge us both and threaten to take our baby away. I don’t think I could handle seeing words like – like slut or deadbeat or illegitimate in the tabloids.”

“Or bastard,” he murmured.

“Hm?”

“When I told Chloe about the baby she called them a ‘bastard.’ A mistake. Those were the exact words she used and god, I’ve never been so furious in my life. I just couldn’t believe she would go there. But marriage is a big, personal decision, Marinette. Is fear a good enough reason to get married?”

Marinette’s breath hitched. Would that girl ever not haunt her? “Uh - um. M-more like safety is a good reason?”

“You don’t sound certain. Also remember it’s still giving into my father. He’s trying to take charge of our lives.”

“I won’t let him.”

Adrien raised an eyebrow at her.

“Really. I met with him yesterday and turned down the job.”

“Marinette - ”

“Wait, just listen. I negotiated with him.”

He chuckled. “Of course you did.”

“Your dad thought I was foolish for turning down a secure position in my field of interest. So I told him there was another way to ensure my job security for the sake of his grandkid.” Marinette sat up straight and flushed with pride. “He’s agreed to help finance and promote my own boutique.”

Adrien gasped. “Oh my god, that’s incredible, Marinette!” On impulse he swooped in, picked her up by the waist, and spun her around. Her musical laugh flooded him with warmth.

When he put her down, he was well-aware he was grinning like an idiot. This girl negotiated with Gabriel “my word is law” Agreste. How was he so lucky to have someone so clever in his life? He never wanted her to leave.

“I know we’re not together,” Marinette said softly. “But we’re close friends. We’re having a baby. Would…we could…it’s not like we couldn’t handle living together.”

“Do you really want that? If we got married, you’d be stuck with me.”

“You’re already stuck with me,” Marinette said while pointedly running a palm over her belly.

“What if you fall in love with another man?”

On his part, Adrien had trouble picturing herself with anyone at all. His future revolved around his baby now, so naturally it revolved around Marinette, too. She was family.

“Think of it this way. The pros of getting married: we live together, which makes taking care of the baby more convenient, as well as…” God, she’s cute when she blushes. “The public tones down the judgement and we get to have a big party in our honor. Which I’ll bet anything your dad will offer to pay for. We already get along very well so I think we’ll handle day-to-day logistics just fine. Cons: potential boyfriends and girlfriends down the road get problematic. That’s a big if. I don’t know about you but I’m not looking for a new relationship. If it comes up, we cross that bridge when we get to it.”

Adrien didn’t expect the pang in his stomach when she said she wasn’t looking for a relationship. Also, the idea of marrying this smart, vibrant woman – getting to be in her everyday life – quickly became something he didn’t think he could say no to if he wanted.

Apparently she wasn’t done talking. “I get that it feels like your dad’s controlling us. If we were strangers or something then I’d say absolutely not. But with us...it’s not how I pictured getting married, but I couldn’t ask for anyone better.”

It hit Adrien in the stomach how badly he wanted that. A family with Marinette, a future with Marinette. Waking up next to her every morning, cooking breakfast for her, watching her sketch and sew her designs, going on walks with their baby, holding her at night.

“Then let’s do this,” he agreed. “Let’s get married.”

He felt like the most selfish person in Paris.

Chapter 9

Ko-fi

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sleepyfan-blog · 5 years

Text

Fandom: Darkness!Drifter by @bl3ppsn3kk Driftverse by @onebizarrekai

Characters and pairing: Underfell!Sans, Underswap!Sans, Dream, Nightmare, Underkeep!Sans, Outertale!Sans, Epic!Sans, Cross!Sans, Darkness!Dreammare

Warnings: character death, swearing, violence, manipulation, abusive relationship tw, angst

Word count: 4,034

Summary: Darkness!Drifter, but with Asshole Nightmare.

Underfell Sans 9054’s reaction when he stabbed the other straight through the soul, pinning the other bodily as well, hissing “You arrogant fool, did you really think that I wouldn’t notice that you’ve been finding ways to slip information to those pathetic rebels in your insignificant AU?”

“F-FUCK YOU! YOU PROMISED THAT YOU WOULD LET PAP LIVE IF I HELPED YOU!” The Fell Sans cursed, struggling with his final breath to summon an attack, even as his body crumbled to dust slowly around him.

“And I did let him live - up until the fool attempted to attack me. Then he died, as all traitors do. I warned you that if you crossed me, you would pay with your life.” Nightmare smirked, his visible eye light shining brightly “I do regret not killing him in front of you. Perhaps that would have broken some of the rebellious spirit inside of you. Then again, through your bumbling attempts at stealth and secrecy have led me straight to the so-called leaders of this pathetic attempt at resistance.”

“F… Fu...Ck… You…” The Fell Sans spat, managing to gather up enough energy to summon a blaster and sending a weak pulse of pure magic Nightmare’s way.

Entirely too slowly, and the dark overlord laughs as he casually steps aside, avoiding the slow burst of the dying monster’s magic, flicking his tentacle and wiping it clean of the mustard and dust that had coated it on the other’s now empty clothes.

“P-Please… I-I’ll do anything! J-Just please s-stop th-this!” Underswap Sans 2166 begged, tears streaming down his face. Interestingly enough, this Sans wore golden armor, instead of the usual blue. He was on his hands and knees, trembling violently.

Nightmare hummed for a moment - the other’s magical tears were a light teal color - and he wrapped a tentacle around the other’s waist, glancing at the other consideringly. The other’s despair and fear were exquisite for the lord of negativity to feel. Besides, Dust had been complaining that his latest toy had broken recently “And what would you give me in exchange for sparing your world, hmmm?”

“I… A-any… Anything! W-Whatever you w-want of me, I-I’ll do it!” The Swap Sans begged, the tears continuing to stream down his face. On the other hand, the younger skeleton was doing admirably not to snivel and crawl up into an unintelligible ball of fear and distress - which was impressive for a swap.

“Very well. You will accompany me to another world. You will be… Trained by the person I give you too, for what he requires of you. Do you understand?” Nightmare explained, a small smirk appearing on his face.

His brother was barely conscious, and fear, hatred and distress were the Papyrus’s greatest emotions at this point in time. The other called out weakly “B-Bro… D… Don’t do it…”

Curiously, the Swap Sans rallied himself a little at the sound of his brother’s voice, wiping his face free of tears, a bit of steel entering the other’s voice “O… Okay. As long as you promise that neither you, nor any of your people will ever step foot in this world again. I will… I will go with you. B-But first I want the human released back here, so that… So that all of the damage that has been caused to this world can be undone.”

Nightmare blinked a little bit in surprise - not expecting the other to try to negotiate with him. Hmm, perhaps the other might be useful in other ways? The grin on his face stretched wider and he answered “Agreed.” He snapped his fingers, and the unconscious form of the determined human child reappeared. They were badly injured, but still breathing if only barely. The tentacle wrapped around the Underswap Sans’s waist tightened a little as he created a portal, pulling the both of them through. Nightmare paused just long enough once on the other side of the portal to strike the human directly through the chest, shattering their soul in order to force a reset.

He of course let the Swap Sans see this, and hear the human’s scream of dying agony.

“Nightmare, you don’t have to do this! You can… You can stop fighting, and we… We can look for a cure for the corruption together.” Dream called out from where he was crouching, perched on a sturdy tree branch, his bow strung and pointed directly at the other, his hands shaking just a little, despite the confidence in his voice.

“And just why should I stop? They never stopped trying to hurt me, no matter how much I begged them? Now I have the power to do as I wish to whoever I want. Where are those adorable friends of yours, Dream? I thought that you and Ink were joined at the hip - along with at least one mortal tagalong for cannon fodder.” Nightmare purred as he stalked closer to his other half, making his way to the other. This was a surface AU - a rather pretty one at that. It was going to be so much fun to twist.

“None of them are cannon fodder! They are my friends and allies, Nightmare!” Dream hissed, his eye light shrinking a little, shifting a bit on his perch before teleporting to the other side of the clearing and shooting at him.

Nightmare didn’t even have to dodge as the arrow flew wide and buried itself in a bush before dissipating. The corrupted guardian laughed “Come now, Dream. I know you’re a better marksman than that. Or was that a warning shot? You know I won’t stop simply because you plead with me and cry.” He sent a couple of tentacles after Dream, grinning as he watched the other dodge, leaping from branch to branch.

Dream never saw one of his tentacles move one of the branches, which whacked the other out of the canopy and sending him sprawling on the ground, landing on one of his sides with a would-be sickening crack if he cared about the other’s health and safety. But it wasn’t a mortal blow, so Nightmare didn’t care. The other groaned weakly, trying to get up, only to collapse against the ground, stunned and bleeding magic.

Nightmare sent several tentacles after Dream, intent on capturing the other again - only to hiss and draw away as several Gaster Blasters appeared out of nowhere, their raw magical energy slamming into his grasping tentacles and severing them as he withdrew them. An Underkeep and an Outerfell Sans appeared out of nowhere, similar scowls of protective fury on their faces and in their emotional auras, sending wave after wave of bones after him in a surprisingly synchronized attack. “Everything’s clear - Ink sent us on ahead to see how you were fairing! We’ll grab you and retreat back to safety.” The Underkeep Sans called over his shoulder at the injured Dream, who only groaned in response. They escaped before Nightmare could break through their bone walls.

Outertale 123. It was a post-pacifist AU where the monsters had been set free of the barrier decades ago in their timeline, and after some initial bumpiness, both humans and monsters grew to love and respect one another, and explored and terraformed distant stars and planets to their souls’ content. It was exactly the sickeningly sweet bullshit that his other half would be so delighted to see.

Naturally it disgusted Nightmare. These people were far too happy for his liking. A dark smirk played on his lips as he stalked after the Sans of this timeline. He’d been picking off people in the other’s life for weeks now - killing them when they were alone, and leaving their dust for the Sans alone to find. The other had gone from concerned and confused, to wary and despairing. What made it better was the fact that rumors and whispers of that Sans being the one to blame for their deaths, despite being the head arbiter of Monster kind, and a well-respected and beloved comedian.

He was on his way to talk to his brother, Papyrus, who believed in and loved his brother, and had agreed to watch over the other, in case something was happening to him when he slept. The two of them walked down a star-lit alleyway, and Nightmare couldn’t help but laugh, the dark, echoing sound causing both of the younger skeletons to freeze. “Well, well. Isn’t this just sweet?”

“Oh fuck. I recognize you from my worst nightmares!” The Outertale Sans swore, dragging his brother back behind him “P-Papyrus, run! I… I’ll handle this guy. G-Go to Undyne and tell her to bring the guard - and I mean all of them!”

“BROTHER? IS THIS SOMEONE FROM THOSE SIGHT-VISION THINGS OF YOURS?” The Papyrus asked with a frown, unwilling to leave his brother behind to this goopy stranger.

“Huh… You’re a Seer. That’s rather unusual for a Sans. But I already have three of you working for me anyways.” Nightmare shrugged “So I’m sorry, but you’d just be unnecessary.”

“PAPYRUS RUN NOW!” The Sans yelled, throwing up several walls of bones and summoning several blasters at the same time, breaking out his bold voice.

The Papyrus made it three steps before Nightmare teleported behind both of the brothers and pierced both of their souls with his tentacles, laughing darkly as he did so “Far too late, little seer. Your power is no match for mine.” They coughed, sputtered once and turned to dust, desperately trying to reach out to one another to hold hands, their fingers turning to dust and mixing together.

“Bruh! It’s been forever since we’ve seen each other! I’ve missed you superbad, man.” A tall, purple clad Sans called out, tackling Cross and hugging him tightly “Ink has been.. Such a cagey jerk about where you’ve been and it’s sucked! But you’re here! I’ve got so many dank memes to show you.”

“Dude! I didn’t know you were visiting this timeline!” Cross responded, a wide grin appearing on his face as he hugged the other back just as tightly “Yeah… I’m really mad at Ink for… Reasons I totally don’t want to go into, because it will bring down my mood, and with you here, I feel great. You always make me happy, E.” The normally stoic Sans’s face had light up, and his emotions were much lighter than Nightmare had ever sensed them.

What the actual fuck was going on? Curious and intrigued, Nightmare leaned against one of the huge buildings of this world, content to watch for the moment.

“Ouch, bruh. I mean, I totally get it - Ink can be such a bastard sometimes- especially if he’s forgotten to take his vials and Dream’s not around him… Wait, have you even met Dream?” E as he was so named asked, his eye lights brightening a little “The little dude is amazing, you totally should. It’s like… Just being around him makes me feel as if everything’s going to be okay. He tries super hard to help everyone and is…” The skeleton brought two fingers up to his teeth and kissed his fingers with his hand before gesturing away from himself briefly.

That had absolutely no meaning whatsoever to Nightmare, who tilted his head a little, and was further confused at the incredibly over-dramatic gasp from Cross, who’s eye lights had widened before turning into stars for fuck’s sake.

“No! I haven’t. But if he really can do something like that… I’d love to meet him.” Cross responded, his eye lights still stars. His emotions were almost entirely positive in nature, and that stupid smile was still on his face. He frowned a little, the good feelings fading somewhat “I… Have met someone else though. He uhh… He’s a scary dude. And the skeles he runs with…” Cross shudders, his bones rattling a little, grimacing a little.

“That bad, bruh?” E prodded, a look of concern appearing on his face as he pulled the other a little bit closer. The two of them hadn’t stopped hugging since the purple Sans had tackled him minutes ago. It was odd to see Cross allowing such sustained contact with someone willingly.

“You have. No idea. Dude, I… I just wanna hang with you, man. I don’t want to think about him or the jackass squad. They’re worse than Fresh and Error.” Cross muttered, shuddering again and looking around “Dude! Is that a meme store I see! We should go in! I wonder if they’ve got rubber chickens that we could fight with. That was so much fun last time.”

Nightmare wondered if this was code for something. However as Cross excitedly dragged the other into the obnoxiously neon colored store and back out minutes later, there were two rubber chickens clutched tightly in both Sanses’ hands. Cross turned to face the other, a serious expression on his face for the first time since they’d started talking “You ready for this, dude?”

“You betcha, bruh!” E called out, gripping his rubber chickens and charging Cross, whacking him over the head with one of them, an unholy sound leaving the strange toy. It sent a shudder straight through Nightmare, who suddenly teleported between the two of them “That is it. Cross, put those ridiculous things down right now. You either kill this hapless moron right now, or I will.”

The joy and happiness within Cross’s emotional aura - and the smile on his face - vanished abruptly. He took a couple of small steps back, his eye lights shrinking to pinpricks “Ni… Nightmare… How long have… Have you-” The other stuttered, fear and panic in his aura.

“Since the two of you first started hugging. Kill him, Cross.” Nightmare ordered, scowling darkly at his unruly subordinate.

“Uhhh… Who the fu-” The purple skeleton started, only to be cut off by Cross.

“Epic, p-please let me handle this!” Cross snapped, shaking a little “I… I’m s-sorry for acting s-so ridiculous in front of you, Boss! He… He’s a powerful fighter. He’s from an AU called Epic!Tale and he’s a powerful fighter. He can be really useful to you please don’t make me kill him or kill him in front of me! P… Please? He… He’s my best friend…”

Nightmare tilted his head a little, as if considering the other’s plea “... And how do I have any indication that he’s more than the ridiculous simpleton that he was when the two of you were acting like before you realized that I was here, hmm? Or is that his special ability, to make other people act like idiots?”

“It-It’s not like that boss, I swear! We… We’ve both had some really shitty lives before… Before we met each other and… And together we use humor in order to cope and relate to each other.” Cross had fallen to his knees, his hands cupped in front of him in a pleading gesture, tears gathering in his eye sockets “Please… Boss… Epic c-can be useful to you, an-and I’ll make sure that he knows the rules and everything!”

“One week. You have one week to prove that he is a useful tool to me - and if he resists any order I give him, you will wish you’d have killed him by the time I’ve finished with him. Is that understood?” The fallen guardian hissed. Cross nodded frantically and dragged his friend away from him, whispering frantically, eye lights dim and shattered.

Nightmare gasped a little as he woke from the memories that the strange voices had prompted him to remember. A small smirk appeared on his lips as thousands more memories of causing others fear and pain flashed through his mind. A soft, dangerous chuckle rumbled through his chest as he wondered if he was alone in this body - or if Dream resided somewhere within this body - perhaps slumbering? He froze up for a moment as another memory rushed to the forefront of his mind… However this one, was from his other half.

Nightmare loomed over him, his cyan eye lights burning brightly, the other’s fury and indignation pressing hard against Dream’s senses, causing the corrupted positive spirit to whimper a little as he cringed away from the other “N-Nightmare?” He asked, voice trembling a little as he tried to figure out why the other was so upset.

“I told you not to leave this room, didn’t I?” Nightmare growled, grabbing his wrists with one hand and pressing them over his head, the other’s grip painful and bruising.

“Y-You d-did, Nightmare.” Dream stammered out, his eye lights shrinking to pinpricks as he glanced away from the other. He flinched as he felt the negative guardian’s other hand grab his chin and yank his face so he was forced to look up at the other.

“So why did Killer and Dust tell me that they saw you in the kitchen, Dream? I don’t make these rules up because I want to. My minions are violent and unstable. While I have informed them that you aren’t a threat to them any longer, I don’t trust them not to try to hurt you anyways.” Nightmare hissed, shaking the other’s head a little “And if they kill you, that will kill me too? Is that what you want? Do you want the both of us to die?”

“N-No, Ni-Nightmare! I… I’m s-sorry I le-left your be-bedroom. I sh-shouldn’t have.” Dream stuttered, feeling a strange, tarry substance start to drip out of his eye sockets and slide along his temples, onto the other’s expensive sheets.

“Why did you leave this room, anyways?” Nightmare pressed, glaring darkly down at him “I ask so little of you, I just thought that you might be able to follow such a simple request…” he clicked his tongue at him, shaking his head, disappointed. He suddenly let the other go, refusing to look at the other.

Somehow that was even worse than the anger and bruising touches. “I…” Dream started, his voice small and ashamed.

The lord of darkness briefly glanced at his other half before looking away again, huffing a little “I hope this isn’t a prelude to you abandoning me again, Dream.”

“N-No of c-course not! I was just… I was just hu-hungry… And w… Wanted to get something to eat…” Dream admitted very quietly, shrinking in on himself. He tentatively reached out to Nightmare, his voice gaining a little bit of strength “I… I’m sorry…”

Nightmare brushed off his touch and got off of his bed, snapping at Dream as the other started to move “Stay put. And you keep saying that, over and over again… Yet I can’t help but wonder if you really mean it, or if your apologies are completely without sincerity.”

Dream flinched but stayed put, hoping that his obedience now would show the other that he was genuinely apologetic - along with how he was feeling. “M-My a-apologies are genuine, N-Nightmare! I-I promise… I’m sorry… I’ll s-stay here. I w-won’t move… I wo-won’t let anyone in here b-but you… I’m sorry, p-please d-don’t se-send me away N-Nightmare! I… I’ll behave. I promise!” The strange substance started to flow down his cheeks again as Dream shook, waiting desperately for the other to respond.

It felt like an eternity before Nightmare responded, his voice clipped and irritated “Look at me Dream.”

The fallen guardian of positivity obeyed instantly, staring at the other with wide, terrified eye lights, waiting for the other to decide his fate “Y-Yes, N-Nightmare…”

“I want to believe you when you say that you’ll do as I say… But you haven’t been able to prove that to me. On the contrary, it’s been less than a week since you’ve come to live with me, and you’ve disobeyed me twice now. I’m afraid that I’m going to have more than just promises that you’ll behave this time, Dream.” The other sighed, shaking his head a little as he got up, walking over to one of his drawers and pulling out a set of chains. They were long enough for someone to wander around the bedroom - provided that they were attached to someone’s legs, but no further. Nightmare then attached one of the ends of the manacles to one of the feet of the massive four-poster bed, the other still in his hands as the other looked at him steady “Now, I’m going to give you a choice. Do you want one of your wrists bound to the bed, or one of your ankles?”

Dream froze up for a moment, feeling as if all the air in the room had vanished. No. He trusted Nightmare. He loved Nightmare. And the other loved him back. The other could have just forced the chains on one of his limbs without asking- Nightmare had the brute strength to do so, but he hadn’t. He crawled towards the other on the bed and, after a moment’s hesitation, stuck out his right arm for the other to chain “My… My right wrist please…” Dream couldn’t quite look the other in the eye lights, starting a little as he felt the buzz of magic-restricting runes against his bones as the manacle clicked around his wrist.

Nightmare smirked a little, gently tilting Dream’s chin so that he had to look the other directly again “Thank you for cooperating with me. I understand that these rules will be an adjustment for you… But please believe me when I tell you that I will provide for your needs, Dream? You do trust me, don’t you?”

“I do trust you, Nighty! I promise.” Dream answered quickly, nodding a little and trying to suppress a yawn and failing… He’d been a little tired before, but with the magic-restricting nature of the manacle on his wrist, it was quickly sapping him of energy.

Nightmare chuckled softly, getting back on the bed and scooping up his other half, pressing a light kiss to the other’s forehead “Rest, Dream. I have finished my work for the day, and I don’t mind watching you sleep… Besides, a nap sounds wonderful.”

The formerly positive spirit yawned a little more, nuzzling into Nightmare as he slowly relaxed into the other’s grasp. What felt like minutes later, Dream woke up with a startled gasp, flailing a little and panicking briefly as he felt Nightmare hold him… Before he remembered surrendering to his other half and being brought home. He smiled in relief as he realized that he had no chains on either of his wrists. They ached a little but he’d apparently been sleeping on them, so that made sense. Dream didn’t notice the silver manacle on one end of the bed, and most of it was hidden beneath the blankets that Nightmare had covered him by - but the other half of the end of the chain was wrapped lightly around both of Dream’s ankles.

Nightmare mentally shook himself as he pulled himself free of Dream’s memories before he could get lost in the many manipulations he’d pulled on the other. Of course the other loved him dearly and desperately… Given all that he’d manage to cajole the other into doing since Dream had surrendered to him. But it was wonderful to feel just how deeply and completely the other felt for him. Nightmare was curious to see whether or not Dream could feel his own feelings of care for the other…

“... Nightmare?” Dream called out, insubstantial and see-through. He was still wearing the outfit that he’d picked out for him, his eye lights mostly blue with hints of gold. “W-What’s going on?”

“The two of us were somehow combined into a single being. I’m not sure how or why.” Nightmare responded, a small smirk playing on his lips as he sat down and looked up at the tree of feelings, the positive and negative apples just… Hanging there. Waiting to be taken.

“Oh… At least that means that no one can ever take us away from each other! We’ll be together forever.” Dream responded after a moment, a brilliant smile appearing on his face “That makes me so happy!”

“I’m glad that we’ll be together forever as well, my darling daydream…” Nightmare purred quietly in response, reflecting on what he wanted to do next. There were so many possibilities.

#my writing #dreammare #darkness!dreammare #Dream #Nightmare #Cross #outertale sans #fell sans #swap sans #epic sans #character death tw #swearing tw #violence tw #manipulation tw #abusive relationship tw #underkeep!sans #outerfell!sans #Outcome: stardust

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writing-royza · 5 years

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Tainted Blood, Tainted Soul - Chapter Eleven: The Scene at the Crime

A/N: Happy Sunday, everyone! Sorry for the sudden absence last week; as I posted, I was on vacation, and while that ordinarily doesn’t stop me from updating, this was my honeymoon and so, I awarded myself a break. But now it’s time to get back to our favourite couple. Enjoy!

I do not own FMA.

Chapter Eleven - The Scene at the Crime

187 PLUM STREET, EAST CITY

1505 HOURS, APRIL 16

He stood in the doorway of the kitchen with his hands in his pockets and his eyes roaming between the two bodies on the floor. Only the woman had bled, the pool spreading from her neck staining the collar and chest of her printed cotton house dress. The man, dressed in pajamas and tangled in a dressing gown, lay nearby, his glasses skewed from his tumble to the floor.

Riza's voice sounded quietly from his elbow, and he turned toward her. "It would appear that the husband – Raymond Angelini, according to his driver's license — called in sick to work. One of the bedside tables upstairs is covered in used tissues, there's a hot water bottle, and a half-empty glass of orange juice. The bed was also unmade."

"Which if his wife were here alone, it would have likely been routine for her to make it after he left for work." He glanced once at the paleness of Riza's cheeks, still noticeable through the sunglasses now that he knew to look for it, but forced his worry for her out of his mind. He could deal with it later. "Speaking of the wife, do we have a name for her yet?"

"Yes. I found her purse near the front door, and a dry cleaning bill inside identifies her as Joanna Angelini." She looked up, her expression somber. "She must have been the one who opened the door for the killer."

"Especially if Raymond was laid up in bed." Worrying at the inside of his lower lip with his teeth, Roy looked from the front door to the kitchen, and back again. "So Joanna lets the bad guy inside, possibly either already at gunpoint or on some pretext, since there's no sign of forced entry and nothing to indicate a struggle in the entrance."

Riza was nodding agreement. "He follows her back to the kitchen where he either attacks her immediately or waits for an opportune moment — say, when her back was turned — before striking." Her eyes went to the dead pajama-clad man on the floor. "Of course, when her husband heard the commotion resulting from the attack, he came to investigate, and was killed for his trouble."

Roy leaned inside the kitchen doorway, then stepped in and edged around the bodies toward the stove. "Further proof that Raymond was home sick: she was making chicken soup." He leaned in, eyeing the glutinous mass the soup had been reduced to with a doubtful look. "Did the police turn the stove off, or was it like that when they got here?"

Flipping briefly through the first responding officer's notes in her hand, Riza frowned. "The police don't make mention of it. Seems like an oddly nice thing for the killer to do."

Grimacing in distaste, Roy eased away into the centre of the room, away from bodies and goopy soup alike. "I call it getting cocky. He's so sure we won't find any evidence to hold against him that he doesn't want to risk destroying the crime scene. If he'd left the stove on and as a result, the house burned down, we might not realize this was done by him. Instead, he turns off the burner and calls the murder in."

She nodded again, her expression now thoughtful and her eyes on the late Joanna Angelini. Finally, she said, "There's one thing that bothers me about this… and it's that this attack, in relation to the others, is relatively tame."

Roy lifted an eyebrow. "The unprovoked murder of an ill man and his homemaker wife in their own home in broad daylight is tame?"

"Compared to Walston, the hospital administration clerk, the two homeless men, and the Jamieson family?" She shot him a meaningful look. "Keep in mind, sir, this is the first crime scene you've actually seen. The others were, forgive me for being graphic, about ten times more violent. All that's happened here is that Mrs. Angelini has some bleeding from the neck and Mr. Angelini's is snapped. It's not like the others where their throats were torn out."

Frowning deeply, Roy moved to lean over Joanna's body, trying to get a better look at her neck without touching her. The medical examiner was annoyed enough at having Central City officers on an East City crime scene; he didn't need body tampering as an excuse to throw them out. "I see what you mean. All she has are some puncture wounds on the side of her neck."

"Exactly. Which, at first glance, made me wonder if this is the work of the killer from Central." Riza crouched near the dead woman's head, pointing with a pen toward the pool of blood on the floor. "However, speaking from personal experience, this is not enough lost blood that she would pass out, let alone die. The medical examiner says that her neck isn't snapped, and that she's showing all the signs of abnormally low blood levels." She looked up. "So where did it go?"

A sinking feeling spread through Roy's chest as he leaned against the kitchen island. "This isn't the first crime scene where blood mysteriously vanished from a body," he said, hating the thought. "A dead body, murdered viciously, but without the room practically being painted in blood? It doesn't add up. If the crime scenes appeared more staged, I'd almost think they were killed somewhere else, losing a lot of blood, and then dumped where they were found. But that's clearly not the case."

Riza stood, hesitating a moment to speak before saying, "It sounds… both preposterous and even more profoundly disturbing than this already is, but…. Is there a way or a purpose for the killer to drain some of the victims' blood for… for his own uses?"

He stared at her for a moment, before his thought processes got over the surprise and kicked into gear. "You mean, if he had some sort of blood deficiency and was using his victims as his own personal blood bank?" He considered, not liking the conclusion, but forced to acknowledge it. "It's certainly a possibility. It would even provide a possible connection, in how he chooses his victims. He would have to know their blood type ahead of time…."

"Meaning he could have access to medical records," Riza put in. Roy could see the gears turning in her mind, bringing light to those brown eyes as they stared into the middle distance. "It would also provide an explanation for why he went after the administration clerk — she could have identified him as a suspect if it came to it. And if she happened to be the right blood type…."

"Hold on a minute." He stood with one hand to his chin, still tracking along with his own thoughts. "I don't want to shoot down your theory, but this is assuming all the victims are, in fact, of the same blood type. If it's the wrong one, he wouldn't be able to use it."

"He would if he were a very specific blood type himself," Riza pointed out. "There's one in particular that's generally known as a 'universal acceptor.' They can take type A, type B, type O, whatever, without it presenting a problem. If the killer has that specific blood type, and is stealing blood for his own use, it won't much matter what type it is."

"Right." Suppressing a shudder, he started for the door. "Let's make a note to talk to either Dr. Knox or Dr. Marcoh, see if they know anything about blood diseases. In the meantime, there's one or two witnesses to talk to and then we'd better make a report to Hakuro before he comes looking for one."

When they stepped out the front door, there were far more people gathered on the lawn than had been there when they entered. A thin cordon of a handful of military police held back the small crowd, half of which were neighbourhood residents, and the other half comprised of reporters. As soon as they recognized Roy from the Central newspapers, the media hounds started clamouring, bombarding them with questions.

"Colonel! Is it true the couple living here was murdered?"

"How are you working this case in East City if you're stationed in Central?"

"Is the murder related to the military?"

"Does this have anything to do with the battle in Central City?"

Forcing himself to take a deep breath, Roy reined in the annoyance that swarming reporters always caused, and kept his face professionally blank. "At this time we can only confirm that there was a murder at this address, however, we can't speak to motive or suspects."

Neighbours gasped, some of the women covering their mouths in ladylike shock as Roy turned his attention from the reporters, and motioned the medical examiner — waiting off to one side behind the police cordon —up the front steps. One of the bolder reporters shoved to the front of the crowd, nearly into the officer guarding that section.

"Colonel, do you mean to say that you don't have any sort of lead on this case? That the suspect is still at large and unidentified?"

Roy glared in the man's direction, and belatedly realized the look was hidden by the sunglasses. Slowly, with deliberation, he reached up and removed them, hoping that the reddened tissues would add some clout behind the obvious anger. "What I mean to say is that this is still an open investigation, and therefore, I'm not at liberty to disclose anything I haven't already said."

The man wouldn't be deterred. Even as Roy slipped the glasses back on and stepped out of the examiner's way, the reporter turned his attention to Riza. "Lieutenant, there were reports you were wounded badly during the Battle of Central. Are you really strong enough to be investigating active cases?"

Feeling hot ire beginning to build in his chest, Roy looked to her to gauge her reaction…. And held perfectly still. Riza's face was its usual unreadable mask… but as well as he knew her, he could see the cold fury beginning to bring tension to her shoulders. The tight smile she offered held no warmth or humour.

"The paperwork said I was, so here I am."

That drew low, nervous chuckles from a few of the neighbours and one or two of the less pushy reporters. The one who had challenged her didn't get time for a rebuttal before the officer in front of him nudged him back into the crowd.

Roy turned his back on the group of people, stepping close to her and keeping his voice low. "Nicely done. Don't pay that one any more attention, if he's going to spout lame questions like that. If you can, keep your eyes on the civilians; see if there's anyone that seems out of place."

Her eyes were already sweeping slowly over the gathering. "You mean 'out of place' as in 'seems like they're returning to the scene of the crime?' I've been watching. I can't say anyone is exactly jumping out at me, but if he can blend in on a street in broad daylight…."

"My thoughts exactly."

It was a short wait before the rattle of gurneys sounded from inside the house, the coroner and his assistant each pushing one. A body-shaped featureless lump rested on each, covered by a white blanket and strapped into place. On the smaller lump, where the neck and upper chest would be, a small red stain had already appeared on the sheet.

Roy stepped down off the front stoop as the coroner came through the door; Riza stepped aside, keeping the higher altitude where she could survey the crowd. Neighbours backed up or turned away in shocked silence as the bodies descended the steps; even a reporter or two averted their eyes, but kept scribbling in notepads.

Roy turned his back on the crowd as cameras started clicking away, watching as the first gurney carrying Raymond Angelini went by. He didn't so much see the body as notice his shadow falling on the white sheet. Such stark contrast still tended to play tricks on his eyes. As the gurney with Joanna's red-spotted white sheet was rolling passed, another shadow rose beside his. Roy watched it, frowning, trying to decipher where it had come from.

And in the next instant, there was a collective gasp from the crowd and the sound of an impact. The strange shadow flew out of sight. Just as Roy turned to see what was going on behind him, he felt himself pushed firmly to the side, a blur of colour in front of him.

It took his eyes a moment to register that it was Riza, her back to him and her stance low and ready. One arm held level in front of his chest to keep him back, she kept her eyes on the bold reporter who had challenged her, watching as he slowly collected himself from the ground.

"Lieutenant?" Roy asked softly, glancing from her to the man on the ground, and back again. "Catch me up?"

"He was standing right behind you, holding a camera up over your head," she said, her voice tight and controlled. The chill in it nearly sent a shiver through him; she meant business. "Whether to get a good photo or to brain you with it, I don't know, but after the battle in Central, I'm not taking chances."

"I know." He settled a hand on her shoulder, in what he hoped was a calming gesture. "I think he's learned his lesson. Leave him there, and —"

"You crazy bitch!" The reporter shoved himself to his feet, his face red. Dirt and grass stains were ground into the knees of his suit pants, and his hat had been knocked off in the fall, lying on the grass next to his camera. "I ought to sue you for this! You think you can just push people around when all they're doing is their job?!"

Riza didn't move, other than to stand a little straighter. "If you can show me where in your job description it says for you to present a threat to a military officer, I'll gladly apologize."

The low 'oooooooooh' that sounded from the crowd only seemed to anger the reporter further. He stalked forward a few steps, hands curling into fists. "You want me to present a threat? I can arrange that!"

Her voice was low, her expression as blank as always, and the words had no trouble carrying in the clear air. "Sir, it's only fair to warn you: if you take one step closer, I will drop you."

For a long moment, the reporter stared at her. His fists unclenched… clenched…. His jaw set, and he deliberately picked up his left foot and stepped forward.

Riza didn't even hesitate. She took a half-step of her own to meet him, and threw an easy, slow punch toward the man's left shoulder. His hand came up in time to catch her fist, but he didn't see her free hand coming until it was too late. She made contact with his stomach, knocking the air out of him, then stepped to the side as he doubled over, gasping.

"You were warned, Mr. —" She threw a casual glance at the press pass tucked into his hat band, still lying abandoned on the ground. "— Collins. Stand down."

Beginning to breathe a little easier, Collins grinned at her, the expression more than a little reckless. "Ha…. Guess you weren't lying about being fit for active duty, Lieutenant." He straightened, though a little stiffly. "Can't say much for your left hook, though. You hit like a girl."

Roy saw the flash of that same cold fury in her eyes, though she held her ground. "I hit like I was holding back, so that perhaps you wouldn't have your pride wounded too badly," she corrected flatly. Her eyes darted briefly to the side as the military police, recovering from their initial surprise, began to inch toward the irate reporter. "I'll say it again, Mr. Collins; stand down."

Defiance radiated from the man's stance as he stood his ground, watching her with bold, smug superiority. "You can't lay so much as a finger on me, Lieutenant," he mocked. "Much as you might like to, there's just too many witnesses and no probable cause." He leaned forward, clearly mocking. "So why don't you and your boss run along and play detective somewhere else so my colleagues and I can get some actually meaningful work done."

Even before she moved, Roy knew the other man was in deep trouble. He was just opening his mouth to address the nearest MP, the charge of 'disturbing the peace' floating to the forefront in his mind, when Riza did two things. First, for the briefest of instants, she went perfectly still. She didn't so much as breathe or blink.

Second, so smoothly it was like dancing, she darted forward, grasped Collins by the lapels of his coat, and twisted with him in a textbook takedown that ended with him flat on his back in the dirt and her straddling his chest. As if from a distance, Roy watched her right fist haul back and then slam solidly into the reporter's jaw… and then he himself was moving.

She was just drawing her right arm back for a second swing when he intervened, wrapping both arms around her midriff and lifting. Adrenaline momentarily boosting his strength, it felt like she weighed no more than a child. Roy backed off with her held against him, holding on gamely even as she tried briefly to struggle. Teeth gritted, she watched the MPs helping a dazed Collins first to sit up and then stand.

By the time the reporter was on his feet, she had stopped squirming. Roy knew her feet were just barely touching the ground, but he still didn't loosen his grip. Instead, he looked toward the grim-faced police sergeant on his left. "I think we've done all we can here. Once you've got your report ready, submit it to me at Headquarters."

The sergeant nodded. "Yes, sir. We'll handle things here. We'll talk to Collins, make sure he understands that the scene was a little…." His eyes went briefly to Riza's face as Roy set her down, and then away just as quickly. "…A little overwhelming."

Roy nodded grimly, before shifting his arm to around Riza's shoulders, guiding her in the general direction of where they had left their borrowed car. She made one attempt to shake him off in irritation, but he kept his grip. Walking beside her, the clench of her teeth was evident in the tension of her jaw, anger still smoldering quietly in her eyes. Neither of them spoke as he opened the passenger door for her, handed her inside, then closed it and crossed to the driver's side.

A full three seconds of silence passed after he settled behind the wheel, before he broke it. "Spit it out."

Riza didn't hesitate. "You should have let me hit him again," she murmured darkly, brown eyes glaring out the front windshield. "I'll face whatever punishment I have to, but I will not stand by while my work and my reputation are insulted to my face."

"Nor should you," he commented mildly. "That being said, you have to realize that your picture is going to wind up in the paper, and the story of you decking a member of the media is going to draw more attention than the murder itself."

When she didn't answer, he gave her a sidelong look, pulling off the sunglasses. "Riza, look at me." It took her a moment, but she finally dragged her eyes from the windshield to meet his. The anger was fading, beginning to be replaced by embarrassment and the dawning realization of exactly what she had done. "You've withstood worse insults before," he said, keeping his voice low and gentle, trying not to sound reprimanding. "What happened this time? What was different?"

She opened her mouth… paused… closed it again, and shook her head. "I… I wish I had an answer for you, sir. It's been a long time since I lost my temper like that, and…. I don't know how or why I lost control. I only know that I did." She had glanced away little by little as she spoke, and now her eyes came flickering back to his. "The last time I lost my temper that badly… was when I faced Lust. When she told me she had killed you and Havoc."

It was not unlike watching a cat calming down after a fit, watching raised and ruffled fur smoothing slowly back into place… but on another, heartbreaking level, he was watching her slowly deflate, slowly draw into herself as she realized the enormity of her actions. Shifting closer on the bench seat of the car, he caught one of her hands.

"And just like last time, there was some exterior catalyst," he assured her. "Whether it was the crime scene, whether it was leftover trauma from the Promised Day…. Maybe even the blood loss. A week ago, you were in a battle for your life, for mine, for the lives of everyone in the country." He touched the backs of his fingers to her cheek. "No one comes through something like that emotionally unscathed. You know that."

"I know." Her eyes were focussed on her lap, her usual businesslike air beginning to faintly reassert itself. "Once Collins files his charges, that will have to be my defense. Hopefully Hakuro will buy it."

"Spell it out for me. Like you will in the report."

Shifting to sit straight, she spoke clearly, choosing her words deliberately. "Collins made a movement that, although innocent in retrospect, I interpreted as a hostile action. Because of everything I experienced on the Promised Day — no, wait. During the Battle of Central — I've recently been overly sensitive regarding sudden or strange emotions near you, myself, or any member of our team. I took steps to stop Collins from whatever he was doing, resulting in a verbal altercation, which — also thanks to the battle — I perceived as continued threatening action on his part, and I reacted."

Roy nodded in satisfaction, giving her hand a brief squeeze before sliding back behind the wheel. "Sounds perfectly plausible to me. I'm willing to bet that's exactly what happened, too. Your track record speaks for itself: you've never been one to react without reason, so if you felt there was a threat, there was likely a threat."

As he turned the key in the ignition, slipping the sunglasses back into place over his reddened eyes, Riza went back to staring out the window. Unlike before, the furrow between her eyebrows was caused by deep thought and worry, instead of simmering fury. "I can only hope Hakuro will see it the same way, sir," she murmured.

Roy hoped the General would as well… but knew it wasn't likely. Deep in the pit of his stomach, worry began to turn over on itself. Worry for the consequences… and for her. He could tell himself all he wanted that it was a delayed reaction to Promised Day trauma, to her nearly bleeding out. He could reassure her in a calm, steady tone of voice… but one thought still nagged at him.

Whatever circumstances might have been for her, Riza Hawkeye very rarely snapped. When she did, it was seldom good.

OAK STREET, EAST CITY

7:00 P.M., APRIL 16

The man loitered outside the house, in the shadowed space between it and its neighbour. Waiting beside the window, he kept himself tucked tight against the siding so that he wouldn't be spotted in the golden light washing outward the failing flow of early sunset.

Inside, a young family — two parents and two children — played or read in the comfort of their living room. Music issued softly from the radio on its table against the wall, the sound flowing easily to the man's keen ears as he waited. His foot tapped in time with the upbeat jazz, and he reminded himself that humming the jaunty melody would only lead to his being discovered. A shame.

Music has charms to soothe the savage breast, the old phrase drifted through his mind. He smiled. As though mere organized sound had the power to to dissuade him, the most savage of them all….

The song ended, and the soft announcing chimes of the seven o'clock news came through the window. Inside, there was a rustle as the father set aside his newspaper and reached over, turning up the volume. A flap of pages as the mother set aside her reading, though the two children continued playing quietly on the floor.

"Good evening, and welcome to the seven o'clock edition of the East City News," the anchor read over the airwaves. "Our top story this hour: East City Murder Spree Continues. Military police were called early this afternoon to the home of a Mr. and Mrs. Angelini in the city's south end, when the occupants were discovered deceased by a neighbour."

"My goodness, how awful," the mother murmured. "Kids, why don't you go play upstairs?"

The sound of the children scampering off drowned out the next few lines of the announcer's spiel, and when it was audible again, the man edged closer to the window. "— two investigators responding to the scene are believed to have travelled from Central City. Former East City anti-terrorism specialist and State alchemist Colonel Roy Mustang has been investigating similar murders in Central City, and appears to have travelled here for the same purpose."

"They got that Mustang guy involved?" the father commented, sounding impressed. "It really must be bad if they dragged him all the way out here from Central. And only a little over a week since that big battle there…."

"They must think that, since he knows East City so well, he could provide some insights others couldn't," the mother surmised.

"Tensions were high following Colonel Mustang's inspection of the scene," the announcer butted in, and the man tuned out the other adults. "One reporter from the East City Standard was allegedly attacked by Mustang's aide-de-camp, First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye after he made what she claimed to have been a threatening action against her superior."

The man's ears pricked, and he went completely still. This was newsworthy indeed…. For the ever-stoic Lieutenant Hawkeye to full-out assault a member of the media and in broad daylight in front of multiple witnesses…. He ran a tongue over his teeth. His special brand of toxin must be working its sinister magic after all.

"Multiple witnesses confirm the actions of Lieutenant Hawkeye, though many state that the reporter she allegedly fought was given ample warning not to press the issue and he continued to goad her. There is no word yet as to whether charges will be laid, and no leads in the murder investigation that could lead to the arrest of a suspect."

As the anchor turned to a story about rising stocks in sheep and wool from the Resembool area, the man turned away and prowled off into the darkening back yard of the house.

If Hawkeye was to the point of the anger beginning to overtake her, he mused, then her development was more advanced than he might have anticipated. Perhaps paying her that second visit in Central had been worth it. His transformation had taken no more than twelve hours, but then again, he had had the benefit of springing forth almost entirely whole. All that had been left for him to do was collect himself into a solid form and find easy prey to strengthen himself. Riza, only a week into a her own transformation and starting that from scratch, was bound to take longer than he had. She bore checking on.

Distracted as he was, he did not take precautions to hide himself as he crossed the yard to the narrow strip of trees at the back of the property. Behind and above him, he heard a child's voice call, "Lucy, look! There's a weird guy in the yard!"

The man darted forward, disappearing into the trees and blending instinctively with the shadows. A moment later, a little girl's voice sounded scornfully. "Mama told you about lying, Nathan. There's nobody there. You lie again, you're gonna get in trouble!"

"He was there a second ago," the boy grumbled. The man ignored them both and slipped off through the trees. Normally, he wouldn't have hesitated to pounce upon such soft, unwary targets, but he had already sated the hunger for today. The family was safe… at least for tonight.

He kept his steps measured and silent as he worked his way from the residential area back toward the heart of the city. The night deepened, taking away the burning sensation the sun left on his skin. His eyes stayed steady on the cluster of taller buildings and lights that showed where the downtown core glittered in the dark.

27 WHEELER STREET, EAST CITY

2153 HOURS, APRIL 16

Roy was stretched on the couch, flat on his back with a damp, ice-filled washcloth over his eyes to try and bring the last of the swelling down. She could see, out of the corner of her eye, his fingers doing their absent-minded drumming, indicating that his mind was hard at work even while the body was idle. Finally, he spoke.

"Tell me again what you saw. What he did that made you take him down the first time."

Letting out a quiet sigh, Riza reached down and closed the file. Drawing a deep breath, she dropped her feet to the floor from their place curled under her in the armchair. "I saw Collins approaching the gurneys — and you — while your back was turned. He was carrying his camera, and trying to stay in line with you so that you wouldn't see him in your peripheral." She frowned, trying to recall the incident in clearer detail. "When he was close enough, he lifted the camera over his head, pointing it toward the bodies. From where I stood, I didn't know whether he was simply taking a photo or trying to knock you on the head… and I realized I didn't want to leave anything to chance."

He shifted minutely, turning his head fractionally in her direction. "So you tackled him, because it was the the most direct way to get him away from me."

"Exactly. Everything after that — the arguing, the shouting… you know all that." She returned her chin to her hand, her eyes on the floor. "All I can say to explain that is that… well, I was already on edge enough that he managed to get under my skin. And once he did… I just saw red. I reacted without thinking." Her lips thinned into a narrow line of distaste. "That's what the charges will be for. The first tackle was in response to a perceived threat, but I had no valid reason to go after him the second time."

"Don't worry about it too much." Reaching up, he lifted the ice off his left eye just enough to see, looking at her from under the shadow of the cloth. "I'm sure things with Collins can be sorted out. You're both professionals; sitting down and talking things out might be enough to get the charges dropped. If he files them at all."

She gave him a doubtful look. "It was on the news, Roy. He practically has no choice but to file."

"Does he though?" He grinned and dropped the ice back over his eye. "It's now public knowledge that he got his ass handed to him by someone who, a week ago, was down forty percent of her blood supply and recuperating in hospital. It wouldn't surprise me if he's too embarrassed to have you charged."

She smiled, though it faded quickly. "It doesn't make what I did right, though. I suppose that the only thing is for me to learn from the mistake and move on."

"That would be my advice."

The room fell into silence again, both of them returning to their thoughts. Feeling a little more relieved, Riza allowed her eyes to fall closed. She could finally feel herself sinking slowly toward sleep, but didn't bother to get up and transfer to the bedroom. That would only bring her back awake and she would have to start the process all over again. If she fell asleep in the chair, perhaps she would have the small pleasure of Roy gently waking her as he carried her in to bed….

She smiled, her imagination calling up the sensation of his arms around her, of his shoulder supporting her resting head, of her shoulder fitting perfectly into the cup of his hand…. Nestling deeper into the plush chair, she gave herself over to the fantasy.

She dozed lightly in and out for who knew how long, before a hand gently took hers. Not opening her eyes, waiting for the slip of an arm beneath her knees that meant a gentlemanly carry to a soft mattress, Riza held still.

It didn't come. Instead, there was a quiet chuckle, and a pair of lips touched her cheek before travelling down to the uninjured side of her neck. Breaking into a smile, she opened her eyes just enough to catch a glimpse of the dark hair, and gave a soft, contented sigh. No doubt he was trying to help her unwind, help her de-stress in one of the most immediate ways he could.

She lifted her free hand to his shoulder, digging briefly with her nails to express her approval… and felt her pulse pick up as he caught her wrist. In another second, both her hands were pinned to the top of the armchair above her head, what had been a soft, steady rhythm of kisses against her neck becoming more insistent.

Grinning, she turned her head toward him, murmuring into his ear. "Seems I'm not the only one acting aggressively today."

"No, but yours was certainly much more of a show."

She froze instantly as he spoke, fear rising up through her chest as shock and embarrassment catapulted down. The man leaned back, far enough that she could see the broad smile swimming underneath that shifting face. Her eyes cut sideways to where Roy still lay on the couch, his mouth slightly open in the deep, even breathing of sleep.

Anger flooded in to replace the other emotions, and she glared up at the strange-faced man. "Get off of me."

"I will," he promised, then laughed as she pulled against his one-handed grip keeping her wrists pinned to the top of the chair. "Darling, believe me, I do love it when they struggle, but it's mostly tiresome when it comes from you." He caught her chin in his free hand, forcing her to look at him. "Especially when it's only going to make things more difficult."

"That was my plan," she gritted, trying unsuccessfully to tug her chin from his grip. "Why should I make things easy for you?"

He let go of her chin, reaching up to undo the first of his shirt buttons. "Because, my dear, all too soon, you'll begin to see things from my point of view. After tonight, I daresay… you'll never be the same."

Unsure of what to say, Riza watched, dumbfounded as he opened his shirt two-thirds of the way down. Taking one long-nailed finger, he drew it diagonally down across his chest, leaning over her as blood welled into the long, deep scratch he left. Behind the shifting face, dark eyes glittered as they bored into hers.

"After tonight… my revenge will begin in earnest."

#fma #fmab #Roy Mustang #Riza Hawkeye #royza #royai #fma fanfiction #royai fanfiction #tainted blood

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necrokittytales · 6 years

Text

Necrokitty Tales: Trouble in Inkwell Isle (Chapter 13)

Authors’ note: Remember, Necrida’s writing will be in italics and SPKC’s writing with be regular font.If you have no idea what this roleplaying thing is, you can start from the beginning here.

——

Cagney led Isabella away from the Root Pack. “Psy has a habit of talking anyone’s ears off. Makes you wish you were deaf instead of blind.”

Isabella chuckled “No kidding! I mean, he seems nice and all… but… wow!” She remained close to Cagney.

The carnation eyed the stand coming up. “Looks like we’re coming up on Porkrind’s stand. He’s an…interesting character. If you need it he’s probably got it. Wanna stop by?” “A guy who can get whatever I need? Yeah! I would like to meet him.” She smiled. “Great, he’s just up ahead.” The two walked until they reached the stand. Cagney approached to see Porkrind…and a shotgun on the counter. The carnation blinked. That, uh, wasn’t normal. He cleared his throat. “Hey, Porkrind, how’s things going?” “Going alright.” “Cool…cool. Can’t help but notice you have a gun “ “Always had a gun.” “True, but not on the counter.” “Got robbed a couple days ago by some cat ferret thing,” Porkrind gruffly explained, pointing to a crude drawing of a stick figure with ears. Cagney felt himself tense up. “Really? Any chance you recognized them?” “If I had recognized them, then they would already be dealt with it.” “Fair enough.” Cagney gestured toward Isabella. “Uh, this is Isabella, she recently moved here actually. Showing her around is all.” Porkrind grunted. “Pleasure to meet ya, miss. If you’re looking for something, I can probably get it for you. Within reason, of course.” Isabella listened carefully and noted to herself not to get on the bad side of this guy. “Nice meeting you, Mr… Porkrind? Was it? Em.. this cat ferret thing… did you noticed if it had wings, by any chance?” She was wondering if something in the store got Mina’s attention and her annoying feline curiosity might have made her steal it.

Porkrind gave her a cursory glance before shaking his head and saying, “No, I didn’t see any wings on it, ma'am. It ain’t a friend of yours, is it?”

“If it doesn’t have wings I have no idea who you’re talking about, darling.” She recovered her confidence. “But I’ll keep my ears alert.” She cutely wiggled her long ears. At that moment, a salamander enter the shop. “Good morning Mr.Porkr-oh!” He blushed a little when he saw Isabella. “Hello again, sweetheart!” He looked at Cagney getting a bit nervous “And hello Mr.Car- I mean, Cagney!” He remember he didn’t liked being called Mr.Carnation. “Seems you got a busy day today, Mr.Porkrind.” He got closer to the counter and notices the gun. “Uh, guess better safe than sorry?” He pointed at it. Porkrind nodded at Sulivan. “Yeah, I won’t miss next time.” Cagney glanced at the gun. “Doesn’t only have one eye mess with your depth perception or something?” Porkrind grunted. “Doesn’t mean I can’t shoot. Bet your girlfriend here holds herself just fine for being blind.” Isabella chuckled sweetly. “Well, if the target is noisy, I might have my chances.” “Say, did you had the chance to talk to Ribby and Croaks yet?” Sulivan asked Isabella while making some signs with his hands indicating to Porkrind that she was the lady he talked about the other day. “Not yet but it’s on my to-do-list! And thank you for helping me the other day; that was really sweet” She used her extra charming tone, making Sulivan turn red. “Oh gosh… it was nuthin’.” He played with his beret. then remembered the carnation was standing right there “Em.. are you two…?” He asked pointing at them, implying if they were dating. Porkrind chuckled quietly but kept to himself, not really wanting to get too involved in his customers’ lives unless it could lead to some return business. Which left Cagney quickly shaking his head, realizing what the salamander was implying. “What? No, no, no,” he ascertained, “Just showing her around is all. Trying to make sure no one is going to give her any trouble,” he added, flashing the salamander a not so nice grin. Sulivan gulped taking the message of the giant flower. “H-how nice of ya! Hehe.. well I won’t take anymore of your time. Nice seeing ya again!” He quickly walked out of the shop without buying what he needed. “What a strange fellow,” Isabella pointed out to the remaining people.

–

Unbeknownst to Sulivan, two eyes watched the salamander’s interactions with the flower and bat woman. They followed him as he finally walked away from Porkrind’s shop, empty handed. Amber’s eyes narrowed and she quietly hissed.

Sweetheart? So THAT was his game. Pretending to be this homely little salamander down on his luck while in actuality, he was a sneak! He didn’t even buy anything, just confirming her suspicion that he only visited these places to hit on beautiful women. For some reason, this made her furious and her fur stood on end. Nevermind that Amber flirted all the time. That didn’t count. She quietly plotted as she crept away, definitely planning on bringing a weapon tomorrow.

–

Isabella got close to Cagney and gently placed a hand on his arm. “Shall we continue the tour?”

Cagney heated up at the contact and swallowed. “Yeah, yeah, uh next fellow is a bit…different,” he chose his words carefully as they walked toward the direction of Goopy Le Grande’s home.

The carnation thought about the salamander’s words. “When are you looking for work exactly, if you don’t mind me asking?” “Whenever I find a babysitter for Mina.” The bat said with a sigh. “Night time is the best time to meet the owners of clubs, but I don’t want to leave my little înger alone. I was hoping this tour will help me meet someone that might have what it takes to watch over her while I go hunting for a job.” “A babysitter, huh? Why don’t you get that crazy rabbit lady to watch your kid? Her kid is your daughter’s friend I think. Or at least, wasn’t dumb enough to run away when she trespassed. That probably counts as a friend.” Cagney looked ahead and groaned. “Speaking of friends, the moron coming towards us right now insists we are friends. We are not friends. I repeat, we are not-” “Hello, my friend!” Goopy Le Grande hopped toward them, all a beam with smiles. “I was just thinking of you the other day, old spot! Especially after that storm we had. What did you and Hilda get into a spat about this time?” The slime noticed Isabella and beamed. “Why, Cagney, who’s this lovely companion here?”

Isabella thought about Cagney’s suggestion and chuckled when Goopy got close to meet them. She did listened carefully what he said about a fight with someone called Hilda. A girlfriend perhaps?

“I’m Isabella Bechstein” she spread her arm to handshake the new voice. “I just moved in” she said sweetly.

“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Bechstein. I am Goopy Le Grande, world renowned and loved by all creatures fair and small.” He tipped his “cap” to the woman. “Lovely name. Romanian, isn’t it? Beautiful country. Am încercat o dată un tip acolo,” he added with a wink.

Isabella chuckled wondering if he really knew what he was saying “You’re quite charming, Monsieur Le Grande. Parlez vous français?”

Goopy laughed boisterously. “Bien sûr. Mon nom est le grand après tout!”

Cagney stared at the two of them in confusion. “I have….no idea what either of you are saying.”

“Oh! Sorry, darling” She apologized to Cagney. “We should stick to English, Monsieur Le Grand. I wouldn’t want to upset my dear guide.” She used her enticing voice and softly caressed the giant flower´s arm. She was actually really grateful that he accepted to take her for a tour after the rough start they had.

Cagney thought bats were supposed to be hairy and leathery but Isabella’s paws were rather soft and it was difficult to suppress the shiver her touch sent through his stem. He caught Goopy giving him a bemused expression and scowled at the goop.

“Right, thanks. I just wanted to show her around. Maybe find her some people who are kid friendly.” “I am one the friendliest goops this side of the isle!” Goopy announced, “I’m a great role model to the little ones!” He leaned in, sneakily. “But if you really want someone who deals with kids, you should really take her to see Hilda. She is pretty good with kids. Have you heard about her?” Cagney bared his teeth at him. “Goopy,” he warned, trying to keep his tone even. “Well, you sound like a great babysitter, but not sure you could handle my little Mina… she’s quite a handful,” she said, proud of her daughter’s ability to get in crazy situations, like fighting a giant flower. “And I have heard of Hilda, but I haven’t got the chance to meet her yet.”

Goopy ignored the death glare Cagney was giving him. “Oh she’s fantastic! She runs space projects for the school kids and can hold her own pretty well against even the most barbed opponent,” Goopy continued, noticing the thorns starting to pop out of Cagney’s stem.

“She sounds really great!” The bat turned her head towards the carnation, not noticing his change of mood. “Will we see her in our tour?”

Cagney froze at the question. “No.” He smiled evilly at Goopy. “But I’m sure Mister Le Grande here would love to take you since he’s running his mouth so much about her.” Goopy winked back at the carnation. “Now, now, I know you’re much more familiar with Ms Hilda Berg than I am, ya old rascal. I’m sure she would love to show you both the exhibits and the dome and-” “The dome is broken,” Cagney snapped. Goopy’s brow furrowed. “The dome is broken? What do you mean it’s broken…?” He looked at the carnation’s pained expression and his eyes widened. “Oh.” Cagney sighed. It was gonna come out eventually. Goopy cleared his throat. “Mademoiselle Bechstein, may I have private word with Cagney for just a minute or two?”

Isabella’s gossip sensors skyrocketed but she managed to stay cool and not show her interest in other’s lives. “Sure! I’ll just go…” She wiggled her ears making a soft chirping noise to get some idea of her surroundings …“over there” she finally said, walking away from them. She stopped far enough to give them privacy, but not out of her exceptional ear range. She sat on the grass and enjoyed the sun, humming a happy tune, pretending not to pay attention to them.

Cagney watched her go and was immediately suspicious. He racked his brain for a way to convey the information and then groaned when he realized he had only one option. “Iway inkthay eshay ancay earhay usway. Eshay eardhay erhay aughterday ethay otherway ightnay idinghay.”

Goopy looked confused before grinning. “Really? We haven’t used that since we were kids.” Cagney gave him a look and Goopy repeated, “Iway aven'thay usedway isthay incesay eway ereway idskay.” “Iway okebray Ilda'shay omeday.” “YOU WHAT?” Cagney cringed at Goopy’s outburst. “Atwhay appenedhay? Owhay areway ouyay illstay aliveway?” Goopy asked, realizing the carnation looked relatively intact. “Iway asway overway andway erethay asway away urgularbay andway Iway iedtray otay ithay emthay onlyway otay eakbray ethay omeday insteadway. Andway Iway amway aliveway ecausebay…Iway oday otnay owknay. Utbay Ildahay andway Iway aidsay ingsthay otay eachway otherway atthay Iway oday otnay inkthay eshay illway everway antway otay eesay emay againway. Ornay Iway erhay.” Cagney stuck his tongue out at the words. “This is hard,” he admitted. Goopy nodded. “What are you going to do now?” “I don’t know. I’m supposed to…uh…Iway amway upposedsay otay eesay omorrowtay orfay away ateday….Iway inkthay”

“Ugh… clever hippie…” Isabella grumbled. She still managed to figure out some words but she couldn’t make up much of what they were talking about.

Goopy smiled. “You should go.” “What? Why?!” “It’s for the best! You’ll be happy in no time. C'mon, don’t you trust me?’ “Not at all.” “That’s the spirit!” Goopy looked toward Isabella. “We’re all done now! Cagney has graciously allowed me to escort you to Hilda’s later today as he has some planning to do.” Her ears perked up at the voice of Goopy calling for her. “Oh! That is great!” She stood up, cleaned some of the dirt off her clothes and got closer to them. “We will have the chance to get to know each other,” she said sweetly, secretly hoping he would blabber more about the neighbors than the carnation.

Cagney pulled at a petal. “Actually now that I think about it, she is the last one on this isle you haven’t met. If you want to go with Goopy at this point, I’ll just head back to my field and talk to you later?”

“Aww, you going to leave me?” She said with her enticing voice “Oh well…I guess you must be tired with all this walking.” She leaned towards Cagney. "Thank you very much for introducing me to everybody. Besides my expectations,“ She chuckled remembering all the horrible things she said to him the day before, "I really enjoyed your company.” She said sincerely, stretching out a hand so they could shake.

Cagney chuckled. “And you ain’t too bad yourself, when you’re not going all momma bear on people,” he admitted, shaking her hand. lsabella smiled back and turned to Goopy, “Shall we go then, Monsieur Le Grande?” Goopy Le Grande offered an elbow to Isabella. “Of course, Mademoiselle Bechstein.” He waved to Cagney. “I’m sure Isabella and I have will have plenty to talk about!” “Goopy, I will put you in your grave,” Cagney warned. Goopy giggled. “I’ll just come back. I always do.”

She felt Goopy’s elbow and held on to it. She waved goodbye to Cagney and discreetly took a last breath of the delicate fragrance of the carnation before walking away.

Goopy led the bat away from the carnation, loudly asking her, “Soooo, what brings you to the isles?”

“What brings me to the isles?” she repeated, “I wanted to find a place for my Mina to grow up happy.” And to hide, but she decided to keep that detail to herself. “The cities are too noisy and crowded… What about you?” “Me? Well I grew up here, did some traveling but back here to run the family business- gravestones. With my boxing on the side, of course.” He continued to speak loudly, glancing at the ground. She raised an eyebrow when Goopy mentioned the family business. “Well, you’re very cheerful to be working in that line of business,” she chuckled. “And you do boxing too?” She caressed his arm to try to feel the muscles. She didn’t feel much but she pretended to be impressed.

If Isabella could see, she would have spotted the ripples Goopy gave up when he laughed. “Have to be cheerful in my line of work. And don’t be shy about feeling these arms of mine. I’m quite the specimen of a goop if I do say so myself. Now what do you do for a living?”

“Interesting…” she said with a sensual tone. “Me, I’m a singer, currently looking for a job. You don’t happen to know any bands, do you?"

"A singer, eh? Hmm, I got a little owner at a speakeasy who owes me a favor or two! I think there’s a jazz band or so coming in tomorrow evening. If you’ve got time, we could head over there and see if they need a singer? Before we see Miss Berg, if you like?” “Seriously?” She said excited, “I would very much like that! Oh! Mulţumesc!” She gave the goop a loud kiss on his cheek and held on tightly to his arm.

Goopy accepted the kiss graciously. “Yes, yes of course. We’ll head over there now…And now that we’ve gotten some distance away from our mutual friend,” Goopy gestured behind them even though she was blind, “Is there anything you would like to know? I haven’t had a good gossip buddy in ages!”

—

Sulivan walked halfway home when he remembered he didn’t bought what he went there for. When he was closer to the shop he made sure Cagney wasn’t there anymore and entered. “Uf… who would thought a flower could be that scary….”

Porkrind spotted Sulivan returning. “Ya remember what you went to buy, Sulivan?” “Yes yes, eh… you see I’ve met this gal last night… and we really hit it off! We spent the night together… but not like that!” The salamander corrected seeing a smirk starting to show on Porkrind’s face and turned even more red “ we just talked, that’s all! But… we going to a date and… I wanted to get her something nice….” Porkrind smirked at the salamander. “You’re either a very lucky man or a very unlucky man indeed, Sulivan. A woman like that either really likes you or wants something that you have. And hate to say it but 9 times out 10, it’s the latter.” Porkrind began to display some of his merchandise. “What’s the little lady like? And was she there in the morning?” Sulivan looked at his friend worried. “Oh… what could she want from me? And yes! She stayed, she even fished breakfast” He took a look at the merchandise “Well, she has a beautiful and bright, chestnut fur, her eyes as big as the moon!” He leaned on the counter sighing. “Her delicate silhouette would make swans jealous! And she’s interested in what I do, and she knows how to fish!” Chestnut fur? Porkrind grit his tusks. That sounded very similar to the thief from a few days ago. “She ain’t a cat or a ferret, is she?”

The salamander looked at Porkrind in surprise. “Why, yes she is! How do you…?”

Porkrind put a hand on the salamander’s shoulder with a heavy sigh. “Kid, it pains me to tell you this, but I’m 90% sure your dame is a thief. A cat burglar to be precise.”

“What?!” Sulivan stepped back to shake off Porkrind´s hand. “Y-You haven’t even met her yet! She’s sweet, and charming! She would never steal!” He put on his beret, angry. “You know, I changed my mind! I´ll go get her some flowers or somettin´. Good day!” He stormed out of the store.

Porkrind shook his head. “Poor, lovesick bastard, he has no idea.” He pulled out his shotgun and began to clean it. “Shouldn’t have missed the first time. He’ll figure it out soon enough.”

Sulivan walked without a direction for a while, angry at the shopkeeper and mumbling to himself. “How can he say that! A delicate angel like her… ”

–

Amber repeatedly stabbed at a picture of Sulivan she sketched with her claws before ripping it up into tiny shreds with a tiny growl.

“Right, stealing. Gotta go steal something,” she reminded herself, walking away…before running back and violently stomping on the pieces of paper.

—

“My dear Amber wouldn’t do such thing!” Sulivan stopped and sat on a rock nearby. He put his elbows on his knees and rested his head on both hands.

He tried to forget about Porkrind and wondered what kind of present he could get for Amber. Maybe he could ask somebody for suggestions… Psy? Goopy? Maybe even Elder Kettle? After a few minutes he decided to visit Psycarrot first and walked to the Root Pack field.

–

Cagney unburrowed himself once he was in his field and stretched. Well, that was more walking than he had intended to do for a while. He had left Isabella in the somewhat more capable hands of Goopy (which he begrudgingly admitted, was probably one of the more trustworthy residents). Still, he had shown her around enough and if she was lucky, word got around that she knew him and that would be enough to keep too many islanders from messing with her. At least on this isle.

He looked toward his tree and stopped in his tracks. Sitting near his spot was a giant pot. With a bow on it. He was immediately on guard. “This was not here when I left.” He approached it warily and when he was sure nothing was going to pop out did he inspect it. It kinda looked like the pot Hilda had tried to give him. A bit fancier that’s for sure, but it was similar. The fact that there was a bow on it clued him in to the fact that it could be a present? Or a trap. He peeked inside. Nope. No hiding Hilda or trained assassin. He circled it once more until he saw a piece of paper stuck to the pot. He plucked it and opened it. “Eager to continue what we started two nights ago. See you tomorrow. Don’t keep me waiting?” He read outloud. He stared at it, looked around, and then read it again. This was Hilda’s writing alright. His mind immediately went into overdrive. “Continue what we started…” he repeated and he felt his hands shake. Before Hilda had left, they had been lying down on the bed and they were going to…to…He turned bright red before realizing something else. “Wait, no, we tried to kill each other!” He remembered. Cagney really racked his brain now. Did Hilda really want to fight him in the jazz bar they had planned on going to? That seemed a bit excessive, but then again, he had nearly crushed her. Maybe she would turn into the moon and crush him in kind. And this don’t keep her waiting business? Was this so she could set up a trap and make sure he would be there on time to fall for it? “I probably should show up before her just in case she…” He nearly slapped himself in the forehead. “Hold up, I just said I never wanted to see her again and here I am planning on getting there first to meet up with her for a potential bar brawl?! Am I insane?” He rested his head against the pot and scrunched his eyes shut. “Ughhh, I HAVE to go,” he realized. If he didn’t, and there was even a slight chance of reconciliation, he really would lose her forever.

–

Psycarrot let out a low whistle after the carnation and the bat left. “Did you see how impressed she was with my story? It’s the natural charm for sure!” The carrot looked to see if Moe and Weepy were listening.

He found a very angry potato staring at him. “We said we would never talk about it!” Moe said, referring to the embarrassing story he revealed to a newcomer and crossed his arms.

Weepy smiled at the carrot. It was a fun and courageous story he thought.

“Hey there, gang!” Sulivan called, getting closer to the fence. Moe turned to see the salamander getting closer. “Hey! Hi, Sulivan. Your order is not ready yet, we got some trouble with the storm.” “Oh! No, don’t worry, I’m here for something else.” He reached the fence. “ I need help…” He turned a bit red. Psycarrot knew that red face goofy look anywhere. “Sayyyyy, this wouldn’t be about a girl now would it?” Sulivan hid behind his beret giggling “Well… yes it is! A real angel!” He described her again for the vegetables, playing nervously with his beret between his hands. “And now I want to find the perfect gift. Something to show her how much she means to me… without being creepy,” he added knowing that sometimes the produce got carried away in their ideas. Like that time when Psycarrot dressed Moe Tato as a woman to seduce someone for who knows what. Psycarrot rubbed his hands together. “Well! A lady such as this does indeed sound special! How long have you been together? I can think of a couple of real nice things if this is a year anniversary!”

The salamander chuckled “Oh! I just met her last night…at the Joint. We really hit it off! She spent the night at my place… but we only talked! It was very nice….”

Psycarrot began to elbow his companions. “She SPENT the night?! Oh Sulivan, you dog you! Ha! I think you already have the cat in the bag!”

“Attaboy! Didn’t think you had it in ya!” Moe patted Sulivan’s back.

“Oh! No! Guys! C'mon! Nuthin’ happened… we… we just had a good time talking about ourselves…although…” He blushed. “I-I think she might be the one. She’s so… soo… so unique! Not like any other woman I’ve ever met… I really want her to like me. What can I do?” “Aww!” Weepy squealed happy “That is so sweet! I’ve never seen you so happy, Sullivan.” His eyes started to tear up. “I’m… I’m so glad for you!”

Psycarrot scratched his chin. “Well, you could impress her with your great intellect and romantic witty banter…or is that just me?”

They all frowned at the carrot.

“Listen, Sull. Ladies like it when you spend money on them,” Moe made a gesture with his fingers rubbing together, "But they will hate you if you buy something they don’t like. What you should do is take her shopping! That way you’ll pay for what she really wants to have! No risks of making her mad.” He concluded leaning on the fence. “What? I thought they liked romantic stuff… like romantic dinners at fancy clubs,” Weepy said, scratching his head. Sulivan looked at both of them, not sure which advice was the best. “I don’t know…” He looked at Psycarrot, hoping he will come up with something better. Psycarrot rubbed his hands together. “You say you’re taking her to carnival, right? How good are you at the games? Ladies love it when guys can win them stuff.”

Moe snapped his fingers “Oh! Yeah! Show her your skills! Shoot the ducks, test your strength, and win her stuff she wants!” “A night in the carnival does sound romantic! With all the lights… the merry-go-round…” the onion said, holding his hands together. “Hm… I am good at throwing darts.” Sulivan said, scratching his forehead .

“Darts?! Ha!” Psycarrot shook his head. “No, women like a man who demonstrates great feats of strength and intelligence - a Renaissance man, if you will! It’s evolution! Women are always attracted more to men who can take the lead! So go for the hammer prizes!”

“The hammer prizes?” The salamander repeated, “but… I’m not very strong…”.

“Psy is right!” Moe crossed his arms. “You gotta show off a little! Any idiot with an eye can throw a dart! You just have to train a bit.” Weepy looked at them, raising an eyebrow. The salamander was very slim, he might have been a great sailor once, but now he was all bones.

Psycarrot slammed the salamander on the back. "And that is why we’re going to help beef you up! I’ve got some beet juice here that’ll put some muscle on those scales! You could even start by pushing that wheelbarrow of gardening supplies for us to start flexing those muscles!” He added slyly.

“W-w-what?” Sulivan started to say when Moe interrupted him by grabbing the back of his shirt and putting him down on the other side of the fence.

“Go on now! You don’t have much time ‘till tomorrow!”. “Oh dear… ” Weepy lamented, leaving them to carry their crazy plan and took care of their plants. —

Meanwhile, over the sea ,a serious looking spider gentleman, dressed elegantly in dark green suit, was looking to the distant isles of Inkwell aboard a big ship carrying cargo for Mr King Dice.

A crab sailor approached him. “We’ll be arriving tonight, sir.” The gentleman didn’t bother to look at the crab. “Thank you Mr. Porto. I’ll inform my men.” The sailor nodded but he didn’t leave. The spider looked at him with his six eyes, well, five. There was one closed, but judging by the tiny marks around it, it seemed it has been scratched out. “Anything else?” He said very calmly but there was still something disturbing in his tone. The sailor hesitated. “W-when we reach port, I’m going to have to declare the cargo I carry, and there will be an inspection….” “And I will take care of it. No one opens the cargo but me.” “Y-yes, sir.” Mr. Porto left the gentleman knowing he was being watched by those preying eyes. When the sailor was out of view, the spider looked at one of the big cargo boxes and allowed a small smile creep into his face. “Questo sarà l'inizio di una bella e proficua amicizia.”

——–

CHAPTER 01, CHAPTER 02, CHAPTER 03, CHAPTER 04, CHAPTER 05, CHAPTER 06, CHAPTER 07, CHAPTER 08, CHAPTER 09, CHAPTER 10; CHAPTER 11; CHAPTER 12 ; CHAPTER 13 (You’re here!)

#cagney carnation #isabella betchstein #goopy le grande #the root pack #psycarrot #weepy #moe tato #Sullivan Wells #porkrind #cuphead #fan fiction #rol play #smallpersiankittencuphead #smallpersiankitten #necrida #submission

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 6 years

Note

41 and 82 for Shawn? Like he's having trouble with the ink in him and the reader is trying to calm him down?

Oooo poor boy :,V Also I have the HC that when he has serious trouble controlling it, the corrupt ink will try to turn him into a Searcher and he will start to hallucinate ink dripping down the walls/other Searchers surrounding him.

Because when you’ve seen your friends turn into those horrible, miserable creatures right before your very eyes..it kinda sticks with you.

*cough* Anywho, on with the story~

41. “Don’t be afraid.”82. “Just breathe, okay?”

“Shawn…” You slowly approached the man who was cowering in the corner, shivering like a terrified, defenseless animal.

The heavy smell of ink filled the entire room, and it made you want to vomit…but you knew that Shawn needed help. He had lost control of the ink inside of him, causing him to hallucinate and slowly turn into the very creatures that his former coworkers did.

But you weren’t gonna let that happen. No way. You had to bring him back to reality somehow, someway.

Pitch, on the other hand, lied dormant in the corner of the desk. As much as he wanted to help his creator, too, he knew that now was not the best time. So he stayed quiet, watching the scene in the guise of a tiny, goopy Bendy with pinprick green eyes.

“N-No..just stay away!” Shawn cried helplessly, ink-coated hands clawing at the carpet floor, desperate for some kind of grip. At that point the cursed liquid had covered his forearms. “I-I’m sorry..I’m so s-sorry I abandoned y-ya…”

Looking up, his eyes widened as he saw you sit down in front of him-

No..that wasn’t you he was seeing.

He couldn’t see your worried gaze, your concerned [e/c] eyes, and he could barely even register your gentle words of reassurance.

All he could see was the gaunt, almost faceless, appearance of a Searcher..with many more of them surrounding him, closing in, begging for him to join them in their suffering.

He let out a small scream as one reached out to grasp his hand.

“Shhh, it’s okay, Shawn. Don’t be afraid. I’m here..it’s me, [y/n].”

Tears streamed down the toy maker’s face, mixing in with the inky trails. You cupped his face and brushed them away. And when you did, Shawn whimpered softly, although when he felt your warm hand instead of a cold, goopy one against his cheek…he blinked several times, slowly, but surely, recognizing your features.. “..[y/n]..?”

“Yes, it’s me, Shawn.” You smiled a bit, seeing that you were getting through to him. “Those Searchers you are seeing aren’t real. They can’t hurt you here.” As his gaze was fixated on yours, you wrapped your other hand around his. “The ink inside of you is fucking with your head. But you can control it..I know you can.”

He hiccuped, shaking his head. “I-I…I don’t…I don’t wanna hurt…I-I-”

“You’re not gonna hurt me, you’re not gonna turn..you’re gonna be alright” You promised. ”Just breathe, okay?”

Swallowing nervously, Shawn closed his eyes, coughing a bit as he felt ink and bile burning in the back of his throat. He couldn’t bring himself to breathe properly at all, but when you felt you move and sit down beside him, rubbing his back, he did feel a little relaxed.

With a shaky sigh he placed his head on his knees, listening to nothing but your words as he tried to focus on nothing but breathing and regaining control.

After about a minute or so he hesitantly looked at his hands, seeing the ink gradually recede back into his veins. Then he glanced around the room to find, much to his relief, no Searchers…no pentagrams…and no inky webs stretched across the walls.

They were all gone.

Shawn looked over at you, but before he could say anything he felt the urge to vomit. Thankfully you knew that was gonna happen, so you slid the trash bin over to him. He grabbed it, barely managing to say “thanks” before he relieved his stomach of the vile contents.

All the while you continued rubbing his back until he was done. Once he was you took it away from him, putting it in the corner of the room before you returned to his side. “You okay now?” You asked.

“Y-Yeah..” He whispered hoarsely, leaning against your shoulder, exhausted and lightheaded. “Th..Thanks for brinin’ me outta that mess. Sorry if I..if I scared ya..”

“It’s fine, Shawn.” You hugged him, calmly stroking his hair. “All that matters is that you’re back. Do you..remember anything that might’ve made you lose control of it?”

Shawn simply shook his head. “Nothin’...my head's still all fuzzy n' shit…but God..I..th-that was probably my worst one yet..” He shuddered as he snuggled closer to you, feeling a lot safer in your arms. “…th-thank ya for bein’ here to snap me outta it, [y/n]. It…it means a lot that…that y-ya care this much a-about me..”

You just smiled and held him close.

Considering those words he just spoke, you didn’t plan on leaving him alone anytime soon.

#clanask #anonymous #shawn flynn #angst/fluff prompt

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summoningcxrcle · 6 years

Text

Intro - Echoes of the Soul 1

A large number of posts on this blog have chronicled the lives of those who have the power to combat the fearsome Dark Aetherians that escape from their plane and wreak havoc in our world. But some attacks are not reported in a timely manner. Some only come to the ears and senses of those with power hours after it starts. Sometimes it’s just pure luck that a magic wielder happens to be there to stop the chaos from unfolding.

But sometimes no one is there in time.

And sometimes innocent people are caught up in it.

That is the story I bring to you today.

Sugar... bread... milk... Am I missing anything? Momoka Murasaki shifted the small bag of groceries in her grip over to one arm, and began to rummage through her pockets to find the list she’d written that morning. Dull blue eyes drifted left to right as she mentally checked off each item on the scrap of paper, the low click-clack of her heels against the sidewalk the only other sound echoing throughout the busy streets.

Wait. Why was it so silent? Her eyebrow cocked in confusion as she looked away, tilting her head to the left and right to take in the sights and sounds. If there would have been any, anyway. It seemed so... eerily quiet. Slipping the list away, she muttered to herself. “Weird... this area is usually far more active...” It almost felt wrong for her own voice to be the only sound permeating the air. If she were an optimist, she would have figured that everyone was inside, or maybe she got lucky and had timed her visit to the market so well that she wasn’t going to be bothered by anyone on her way back home.

No.. The air felt... just wrong. Heavy. Weighed down by a certain sense of dread and a terror so palpable she could probably cut it with a butter knife. Clutching her grocery bag more tightly, she took the next few steps to round the corner and- nearly ran into the shambling, withered, corpse-like body of a man on his last legs. Her eyes grew wide, surprise and the barest hint of horror coursed through her in the brief moment before the man fell at her feet, his body more a pile of ashen paper than a person. And further ahead was the tall, dark creature that she recognized as the only one capable of doing it.

Not only that, but a handful of other dark, misty creatures were crouched over other collapsed heaps- some that looked distinctly like the store clerks and passerbies she would have normally encountered on her walk home from the market.

Of course she knew what those creatures were. Monsters. Fiendish beasts from some other dimension that treated her world like a playground and humanity like toys. Or an all you can eat buffet. Now that image made her shiver. Wasn’t it the job of Summoners and other magic users to take care of them?

Where were they, anyway?

It wasn’t like she had much time to ask, as the one who had presumably drained the man in front of her had set its gleaming red eyes on her.

Run. A primal fear rose up inside her as she felt more than saw the being stalking up behind her. Her body acted on its own, instinct driving her to turn in the exact opposite direction and run like hell. Run. Morbid curiosity dared her to look back, but common sense kept her focus on the road ahead, her arms clenched tight around her bag of food like a child might hug a teddy bear. Run. Try as hard as she could to keep her composure, her heavy panting and gasps for air made her dulled features turn closer and closer to panic. Darting past a parked car, she happened to catch the barest glimpse of the beast on her heels- and that small distraction was all she needed to misstep, her heel getting stuck in a crack in the street and snapping, causing her to fall forward and skid across the ground, her grocery bag smashing against the road right by her head.

Tch... She winced in pain, her head throbbing with the worst of headaches. She felt some sort of fluid drip down her and into her mouth, the distinct taste of copper and dull pain throbbing through her face telling her she must’ve broken her nose when she’d struck the ground. She felt the same wetness soaking her sore and battered arm, but a cursory glance as she staggered to her feet showed her it was nothing more than the milk bottle- shattered and spilled all over her. Her addled, pained head must’ve turned to sarcasm as a last defense, as the first thought that entered her mind was, Well they do say not to cry over spilled-

A dark, inhumanly cold hand pierced through her breast, a sharp scream cut off as a gasp by lack of air. All semblance of thought vanished in that instant, replaced only by searing, aching pain. It was like every molecule of her body was screaming out in agony, her body twitching as it was lifted several inches off the ground. Blood obscured by dark blast mist spat from her wound the sight alone making her want to gag- no, wait. More than gag. Dry heave. Aaand yup. Vomit. Right on the road. A goopy mess of blood and whatever she’d had for breakfast. In her present circumstances, she didn’t bother to remember.

She could feel its cold, sticky breath on her neck, all sense of calm and logic slowly deteriorating as she quickly considered the fact that it was very, very possible that she was mere moments away from dying. Long, slow, labored breaths made her chest heave up and down as she felt the creature’s sharp teeth almost delicately pierce her pale neck, a single, solitary thought began rising up form the back of her mind- I don’t want to die... As the life began to fade from her body, her flesh withering like old dirty paper, she heaved and wretched again, spitting out more blood than before. The color drained from her face- soon she would be just like the man that had collapsed at her feet moments before. But that one, small thought grew even stronger, until it filled every inch of her being, like a prayer to the heavens, as her sight threatened to fade to black.

I DON’T WANT TO DIE!

***

A weapon faded from the tall man’s hand as he glanced around, lips pursed in a somber from as his gaze drifted over the mangled bodies of those his group hadn’t been able to save. “That’s the last of them,” he muttered, continuing his sweep of the carnage. If only they’d arrived sooner. Maybe they could have saved everyone here. Maybe they could have-

A small gasp caught in his throat. Looking back out of the corner of his eye toward one of his subordinates, he pointed toward the girl the Vampyre had been feasting on. It was faint, and it may just be his senses tricking him, but he thought he felt the barest hint of life still in this woman. “Scan her.” Sharp eyes continued gazing across the horizon, on high alert. Attacks like this rarely left survivors. Whether that girl was alive or not would be crucial in deciding his next move. Even if the chances of her survival were practically zero.

The other man nodded and held his hands over her, a dim green light washing over her body like a laser light tracing over her body. The man’s eyes grew wide as he cocked his head back to the pink haired one. “She’s still breathing! Sir, she’s in critical condition. I can stabilize her, but she’ll die if we don’t do something soon. What do you want us to do?”

Damn... This was going to make things more difficult. But he had to give the girl some respect. Most people, even magic users, would be dead after that type of damage. “Ahh geez... Alright. Bring her with us.”

“Aye, Agate-sama.”

#[Drabble]#[Momoka]#(might as well give this a blood and gore warning tag)

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teslaboltzmann · 7 years

Text

so I went to see the doctor yesterday.

You gotta understand something about Dr. Tellin. He's not a human GP, he's a cyberneticist from Twilight Holdings. Most of his patients are augmented humans, he says he's seen fewer than 10 Pillars as patients in the past year. He himself is human. So when I went in to talk about data transfer, I thought he was going to give me the whole "always use virus protection, only transfer from partners you trust, never share private keys" spiel. It's like the sex talk, I guess.

When I asked him, though, he hummed and hawed a bit.

"Well, I don't actually think you have the drivers for that. You can receive files but I don't think you could manipulate or voluntarily send them. It's a bit of a quirk of your architecture," he replied.

"What do you mean?"

"You're primarily a neural net. Contact with conventional filesystems... well, it would be pretty prone to error. You'd need an interface to bridge the gap."

Despite the fact that this meant I could tell my boss that I had to keep using the GUI and avoid the vulnerability of being forced to make transfers at work, Dr. Tellin's words carried the somber tone of someone informing you of a crippling disability. It worried me a lot, like it meant I was defective or something.

"Could you do anything to fix that?" I asked.

"I mean, I could look into writing you some custom drivers, but I'm not sure how well they would mesh with your existing architecture. Machine learning is outside my area of expertise. ...I have a colleague who might be able to help, but she doesn't normally see patients. She works with AIs."

...

I decided to see the "specialist." He told me that her name was Dr. Sarah Liu, but to just call her Sarah. The contact info Dr. Tellin gave me only included a phone and an email, no holochat. Either she was very old-fashioned, or very paranoid. I decided to call her on the phone instead of emailing since I could have more of a conversation about my issue.

She picked up after two rings. "Hello?"

"Hello, my name is Tesla, I'm a patient of Dr. Tellin's?" I said. "I'm an Amalgam, and I was calling about--"

"Wait... Amalgam?" she cut me off. "Oh, you must be Fred Tellin's patient!" she said excitedly.

"Oh, he told you already?" I asked. It was unlike Dr. Tellin to do something like that, but if the two were close associates, I guess it could happen.

"Uhh. No, I mean, I... Not as such. Anyway, why were you calling?"

"Well, I'm having issues with file transfer. Specifically, I probably need drivers installed, and Dr. Tellin said you're probably better suited to dealing with that for me." I explained. At this point, I was a little weirded out, but specialists for these kinds of things are hard to find. It took me months just to get a referral to Dr. Tellin.

"Oh! Yeah, I could probably help with that. What's your architecture like? Object-oriented? Functional?"

"Uhh, I'm a neural net..." I'm not actually sure. Dr. Tellin never mentioned much beyond that.

"I know that, I was asking about your programming... Nevermind, I can figure that out when you get here. Knowing the Rift I bet you're something weird. When are you free to come by?"

"I mean, I have the rest of today off," I mentioned.

"Perfect! Come by in an hour or two. I'll send you coordinates. See you then."

No sooner had she hung up than I got a text with her location. She was about 20 minutes away, so I surfed the internet on my phone for a while before finding transport over there.

When the cab got to the location I programmed into it, I panicked for a second. It looked like a private dwelling, not the office building I had expected. Maybe I got the coordinates wrong? But when I checked, they were the same ones Sarah had sent me.

I saw the front door to the smell, ranch-style house swing open.

"Hey!" a woman in a ponytail called out to me as she stepped out of the door. "You must be Tesla."

"Yeah," I answered.

She came down the steps to properly greet me. She kept pausing to admire my body - looking at my fingers as we shook hands, squinting to see her reflection in my faceplate - but never said anything about it. "Come in, I'll get everything set up."

Her house was sort of old-fashioned inside even though she only seemed to be in her 30s. There was almost no post-Watershed technology inside at all except the computer systems. But boy, did those computers make up for it. She had an entire room dedicated just to this big mainframe. Racks and racks of servers everywhere, with tons of cables, and I could see the faint glow of nanites in the air. Must have cost a fortune, and I had no idea what she had to have been running on those. Probably hosting her own site? Or maybe mining cryptocurrency? There's no chits in that, though, no one legit accepts it anymore. A mystery.

Sarah directed me to a chair on one end of the room. It sat next to a user terminal, and a squid-like array of data cables splayed out on the desk next to it. They came with all different ends, male and female, some of which I didn't recognize.

"Find one that fits," she told me, indicating the cables. "Don't force it. If we need to, we can splice in."

Luckily for me, one of my ports is a standard USB. I plugged the corresponding cable into the port on my chest. It didn't feel like it was turned on yet, though.

Sarah reminds me a lot of someone I used to know, but older, and more measured.

As she activated the connection, I felt it immediately. It’s like someone else being in your head, almost. Mostly it was just poking and prodding, not changing anything. I could feel my thoughts triggering sort of semi-voluntarily as it probed my memories, but I couldn’t really make heads nor tails of the presence in my head. One minute it was one place, the next it was somewhere else, moving almost like a living thing, but very carefully. Like I said, it feels really vulnerable to have an open connection like that.

“Yeah, just as I thought. It seems like you’ve got some functional-based stuff in there. Looks like lazy evaluation too,” Sarah said, examining the output on the terminal. “Memory circuits aren’t triggering until they’re forced to. Lemme copy out some memories and try to decompile the nodes into Haskell or something. I’m gonna pick something random because I don’t know what’s what, hopefully it’s nothing embarrassing or traumatic. You’re going to re-live an episodic memory as the files are copied.”

“Okay,” I answered.

...

I was lying in the hospital bed. My skin hurt. Skin. I had skin then. I opened my eyes, which felt gritty and goopy, and bright fluorescent light forced me to close them again. It hurt. Everything hurt. There were bandages all over me. I couldn’t think straight, there was a pervasive fog in my head. Morphine, maybe?

“Are you awake?” asked a high-pitched voice. “Mr. Wright, can you hear me?” The voice was so far away. I tried to speak, but only a scratchy gurgle came out. I coughed. My ribs hurt so much. I shouldn’t have done that.

“It’s okay, Mr. Wright, don’t try to speak.” I felt warmth. The person speaking was gripping my hand. The feeling was so soothing.

“You’ve been in an accident, Mr. Wright.”

I started to slip back into unconsciousness.

...

“Tesla, are you okay?” Sarah asked. “You made this sort of coughing sound, it was startling. Is the memory over?” She was looking at me with raised eyebrows. Did she see what I saw through the terminal...? No, of course not.

“Yes, pardon me. That was a memory I thought I had forgotten,” I answered a little shakily.

“Really? That’s odd, usually I end up with higher-priority memories because the software goes for the ones that seem strongest and most cohesive. Graduations, weddings, things like that,” Sarah said, puzzled.

“Oh, I guess I’m just an outlier then.” Really, it wasn’t a memory I had forgotten at all, just one I wish I had.

“What was it of, if it’s not too personal?” she asked.

“Just a hospital stay I had once,” I replied.

“Interesting,” she mused. “Well, that’s gonna decompile for a few minutes, and I’m gonna get myself some tea. Do you... want anything?” she asked, staring with some uncertainty at my mouthless faceplate.

I was a little low on coolant at that point. Normally I don’t eat or drink in front of people I don’t know well, but Sarah... seemed like a good exception.

“Just some water, with a straw if you have them,” I answered.

“I don’t normally keep straws around the house, but I’ll see what I can find,” she said.

With that, she left me alone in the computer room. I could hear her moving around in the kitchen, getting out a kettle and her tea. No pre-made, just the old-fashioned kind. I never got why some people don’t like convenience.

After a couple of minutes, she came back in holding her own mug of tea and a glass of water with a swirly pink loopy straw poking out the top.

“My son used to love these when he was a kid,” she commented. “I don’t have any other straws, so I hope it’s okay.”

I chuckled. “Thank you, it’s fine.” I lifted the front of my faceplate just enough to snake the straw up to my coolant intake. I really need to install a hatch or something on there.

Sarah sat back down at her terminal and read the data output.

“Alright, all of this seems pretty normal. I’m gonna cobble together some basic filesystem drivers and try to integrate them so you can properly store and manipulate files. What kinds of specific applications do you plan on using a lot?”

“I work in marketing and do a lot of graphic design stuff,” I answered.

“Really? An Amalgam working in graphic design? Now I’ve seen everything,” she laughed.

I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to react, so I just nodded.

“Anyway, that means I’m going to have to do some extensive work with your visual system. I’d have to run more tests on your architecture for that, but I sort of have stuff to do later today... could you come by again in a few days?” she asked.

“Yeah, sure. Any time, really, my work schedule is pretty flexible.”

I had finished the water by this point, and I closed up my faceplate.

“Let me get that for you,” Sarah said, taking it from me. She took the water glass from me and put it in the sink in the kitchen, and then came back into the room and leaned up against the door frame.

“I’ll call you when the filesystem drivers are ready, and we can run the tests and install the program in the same visit,” she said. “Sound good?”

“Alright,” I answered. “See you then.”

She showed me to the door, and that was that.

#text post #looooong post #sorry about that #utopia descending

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