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askkrenko · 5 years ago

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Krenko’s Guide to Pokemon: Poliwag Line

Ah, Poliwhirl, the main character of Pokemon.

...What, you thought it was Pikachu?

Well, sure, Pikachu became it, because people didn’t like Poliwag, Poliwhirl, and Poliwrath enough, but if you go back and look at the earliest Pokemon promotional material, you’ll find the Poliwag line everywhere, because Satoshi Tajiri himself wanted to push it as the big symbol of Pokemon and Evolution- the tadpole turning into a frog.

Back in the day, Poliwag’s line was inexplicably everywhere. There’d be toy lines of “Bulbasaur, Charmander, Squirtle, PIkachu, Meowth, and Poliwhirl.” Poliwhirl was on all the promotional material. Hell, when Pokemon was on the cover of Time Magazine, guess who was front and center.

But nobody actually liked Poliwhirl all that much so eventually the Pokemon company stopped putting it in everything. Eh, they can’t all be winners. DESIGN: Poliwag is actually super cute. It’s a tadpole with a spiral reminiscent of real tadpole intestines (visible through translucent skin) but not gross at all. Feel free to google that on your own time. I’ve decided not to share the picture here. The little feet show it’s just starting to turn into not-a-tadpole and it’s got a cute little mouth for blowing bubbles. I love Poliwag. Poliwhirl is... fine. Trading the tail for arms makes sense, but what I don’t really get is losing any semblance of a mouth. It just looks weird. Incomplete maybe. There’s something inherently offputting about Poliwhirl’s appearance and I honestly think it’s that it has no mouth, so it’s not clear that that big swirly thing is supposed to be its tummy.

Poliwrath is just a design I don’t like. It’s just Angry Poliwhirl. It’s thicker and has bicep, but it still suffers from the weird mouth issue that Poliwhirl does, and it doesn’t actually look like a different creature. It might just be the least noticeable change in an evolution in all of Pokemon. Seriously, look back and forth between Poliwhirl and Poliwrath quickly and tell me those are two different Pokemon and not just, like, the male and female variant of one. At least with Poliwrath I think I see where its mouth is sort of SUPPOSED to be, but with it closed so tight I can’t really tell. Its made even more confusing because Poliwag shoots “Water Gun” out of its mouth, but Poliwhirl shoots it out of its belly.

And then there’s Politoed. Politoed has a mouth! I approve. Unfortunately, I feel like Politoed diverges too much from Poliwag and Poliwhirl.

The coloration is entirely different, which would be fine if Poliwhirl wasn’t the exact same color as Poliwag, there’s suddenly a huge mouth, the hands and feet are three-fingered instead of whatever’s going on with Poliwhirl, and while there’s still a stomach swirl it’s not only less pronounced, it’s a different color. Now, I will say that overall I do like Politoed’s design. I think it’s a cool frog monster that’s clearly a frog but also has enough unique traits to be interesting. I just don’t feel that it looks like the frog Poliwag was destined to become.

Now, Shiny Politoed actually goes a long way to fix this just by being the same colors as Poliwhirl, but my general feeling here is that if Poliwag to Poliwhirl’s transformation involves big gloved hands and raised eyes, then the Poliwhirl to Politoed evolution should’ve kept those. Also, I don’t get why it has a single long hair. The Pokedex says that hair is proof of its status as a King, and it does evolve via King’s Rock, so maybe there’s some Frog Prince shenanigans going on there, but I just don’t see it. EVOLUTIONS: I love Branching Evolutions, generally, especially ones where you just get a choice. Poliwag to Poliwhirl is a normal level 25, and Poliwhirl to Wrath or Toed is Water Stone or Traded With King’s Rock... And I gotta say, I kind of hate “Trade with King’s Rock.” I don’t think I’ve gone into this yet but I’ll definitely say it a lot in the future: Trade evolutions that require additional items are a pain in the butt, a waste of everyone’s time, and there’s too many different items for them. Also, Trading is already a bit of a thing. Why not just make Poliwhirl evolve into Poliwag by using the King’s Rock like an evolution stone? You know there’s like 40 evolution items and most of them only apply to one Pokemon? And King’s Rock only applies to two.

Look, I understand and begrudgingly respect that, until they came to their senses in Sword and Shield, Pokemon didn’t want to include evolution methods that were attemptable and failable in an earlier game, like using a Leaf Stone on Eevee, but I will never understand while Sneasel needs a Razor Claw but Gligar needs a Razor Fang even though both work by being held items that trigger evolution on level up. And King’s Rock, Metal Coat, Upgrade, and Dragon Scale were what started this mess. And why the devil can’t Seadra become Kingdra with a KING’S Rock? Somehow Politoed is more king than Kingdra? Anyway, split evolutions are cool when they’re sufficiently different. Though Politoed and Poliwrath seem similar, they have a decently different move list and, most importantly, Poliwrath leans Physical while Politoed leans Special. TYPING: Poliwrath is a rather unique Water/Fighting combo which gives it a whopping seven resistances. Sure, this comes with five weaknesses, but if you play smart it means you can switch Poliwrath into a lot of attacks. Also, a Water/Fighting combo gives super effective coverage against seven types, and nothing resists both types. This is a really comfortable place to be. Politoed is pure water, which is fine defensively with four resistances and only two weaknesses, but with only three types of STAB coverage and three types that resist all its STAB attacks it’s going to have a much harder time putting out damage.

STATS: You know what’s weird? Poliwhirl has speed 90. Both Poliwrath and Politoed have speed 70. While it’s not unheard of for a Pokemon to have a stat decrease, especially a speed decrease, on evolution, Poliwhirl is the only Gen One pokemon to have this issue, other than Caterpie and Weedle who lose Attack and Speed upon cocooning but got it back in their final forms. Some Gen One Pokemon retroactively got it later, like Onix and Scyther both losing speed when they become Steel types, but Poliwhirl was the first. Anyway, actual stats. Both Poliwrath and Politoed have above average HP and below average speed. Poliwrath has comfortable defenses at 95 and 90, and a decent 95 attack. It’s not exactly a heavy hitter, but it’s good all around. Politoed has 75 Attack and Defense, just a bit below average, but a Special Defense of a good 100. Its Special attack at 90 is just a smidge lower than Poliwrath’s attack, but it’s still fine.

ABILITIES: For main abilities, both Poliwrath and Politoed have Water Absorb and Damp. Damp, as mentioned for Psyduck, is basically useless. It shuts off self-destructing moves, but those don’t really come up enough to matter. Water Absorb is just good. Water Absorb replaces their Water Resistance not with Immunity, but the ability to heal any time they’re hit by a water attack. In a normal battle, this lets them catch Water attacks even better than they’d be able to otherwise, and jump into them late game to heal. In a 2v2, this allows your ally to spam Surf, healing your Poliwhatever while also damaging both enemies. We’re going to see Water Absorb a lot in the future, and it’s always an entirely solid ability.... but both hidden abilities are worth talking about. Poliwrath’s Hidden Ability is Swift Swim, which doubles it speed in the rain, and it’s another ability a lot of water Pokemon have. Obviously this takes some setup to use, but Poliwrath’s speed is right at the level where it’s poor normally but suddenly really good with Swift Swim up. If your team can reliably trigger it, it’s a serious boost to Poliwrath’s overall effectiveness. Whether this is better than Water Absorb absolutely depends on your team. Politoed... gets one of the greatest abilities in the game. I said this when Ninetails came up, but if a has Drought, Snow Warning, Drizzle, or Sand Stream it’s automatically useful. Politoed is one of only three Pokemon with Drizzle, and while Kyogre is the Obvious Best of the three, it’s a Legendary that’s banned in many tournaments, so the competition is just Politoed and Pelipper- and honestly, they’re both entirely reasonable options. Drizzle is a free action Rain Dance. That’s it. And that’s all you need. Politoed comes out and oh look it’s raining. Now water attacks do more damage, fire attacks do less, and all those other fun rain abilities are triggered. Politoed is a strategy in himself, and even if his stats were much worse, Drizzle would still be reason to use him.

Unless you’re in a format where Kyogre’s legal in which case, to hell with the little frog.

MOVES: As always we start with our attacks. Poliwrath has two main fighting options, the defensive Drain Punch or the offensive Close Combat. As Poliwrath is a bit on the bulky side and not really strong enough to reliably one-shot things with Close Combat, I’d lean toward Drain Punch. For Water, Poliwrath gets.... Liquidation. It’s not impressive, but it’s STAB Physical. Poliwrath actually has a serious move problem in that many of its best moves are Special rather than Physical, but it’s physical attack stat is much higher. With a Swift Swim Poliwrath, Waterfall becomes a lot more desirable than Liquidation, as it’s likely to outspeed its foes, but if your Poliwrath isn’t built for speed, that Flinch is unlikely to happen. Politoed has this question a lot easier. It can learn Surf, Hydro Pump, and Scald, depending on which better fits your tactics.

Poliwrath’s coverage options are Darkest Lariat, Earthquake, Ice Punch, Rock Slide, and Poison Jab. Of these, Darkest Lariat works against Ghost and Fairy, Earthquake against Poison and Electric, Ice Punch against Flying, Grass, and Dragon, Rock Slide against Flying and Bug, and Poison Jab against Grass and Fairy. Obviously there’s no way to win them all, but Poliwrath can reasonably threaten a lot of types.

Politoed’s coverage options are Ice Beam, Psychic, Earth Power, and Focus Blast... But with guaranteed Rain Dance and STAB, it’s better off using Water against anything that isn’t Dragon, Grass, or Water. Nothing it has hits water, so Ice Beam is the only secondary attack it needs to pick up. (Politoed would be utterly busted if it could learn Thunder, but it can’t so... Ice Beam it is.) And then there’s the question of utility, and Poliwrath has a lot of it. Option A is Belly Drum. Belly Drum punches your pokemon in the gut, hard, dropping their HP in half... and raises their Attack by six stages. It’s a dangerous gambit, but Poliwrath is bulky enough and has enough resistances to give it a shot. Option B: Rest. Poliwrath can take a nap and heal to full. Lots of Pokemon can learn rest, but most Pokemon don’t have above-average defenses and seven resistances. Poliwrath can combine Rest with Sleep Talk (but don’t combine Sleep Talk with Belly Drum or you’ll just kill yourself,) in order to keep performing moves while asleep. Of particular note, Circle Throw changes from -6 Priority off of Sleep Talk to using Sleep Talk’s priority, making it a solid option that keeps your opponent from properly fighting back against your sleepy frog. With this strategy, using Scald over Waterfall or Liquidation becomes reasonable. The damage is much less, but Burning an opponent cuts their Attack and deals damage over time. Option C: Bulk Up. If you’re worried about the HP loss of Belly Drum, just Bulk Up instead. It’s weaker, but it raises Defense too, and then you can get back to Drain Punching. Politoed doesn’t have that much for utility options (though Perish Song, Protect, and Encore all have their uses) but that’s fine because the goal here is to just set up rain and then blast enemies with a water attack and Ice Beam or switch out into something that can better take advantage of the rain. You don’t need other utility when you have Drizzle. Take Splash for all I care. It doesn’t matter: Hydro Pump, Surf or Scald Ice Beam Whatever. Maybe take Rest and Sleep Talk, too. Politoed’s pretty bulky. It doesn’t really matter. Drizzle means that Politoed is secretly one of the strongest Special Attackers in the game. Just make sure you have a Ground type on the team so you can safely switch when you’re staring down an Electric type, because you do not want to eat a Thunder. OVERALL: Poliwrath and Politoed, despite being counterparts, are very different pokemon. Poliwrath’s near-unique typing, shared only with Legendaries, and solid bulk gives it an interesting defensive position, with a wide range of attack coverage. Meanwhile, Politoed has Drizzle, which makes a pokemon on its own. Everything else is just gravy. And I seriously wasn’t kidding about Poliwhirl being on EVERYTHING.

#Krenko's Pokemon Guide #Poliwag #Poliwhirl #Poliwrath #Politoed

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worryinglyinnocent · 5 years ago

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Fic: A Jungle Fairy Tale

AU-gust Day Thirty: Magic AU Fandom: Once Upon A Time/Lost Pairing: Rumpelstiltskin x Claire Littleton

Rated: T

Summary: The survivors of Oceanic 815 discover that they are not alone on the island, and that its native inhabitants are… odd, to say the least.

Note: I’m not quite sure how much this counts as a magic AU since OUAT is in its nature a magical canon universe and Lost certainly has some supernatural and fantasy elements. But this idea’s been floating around in my mind for a couple of years now, so I thought I might as well dust it off here.

A Jungle Fairy Tale

The survivors of Oceanic 815 first realised that they were definitely not alone on the island on their first night, listening to the roar of something pounding through the jungle and seeing the trees shaking. Luckily, whatever it was decided that it was going to go in the opposite direction to the beach, and they never got a glimpse of whatever strange creature could have caused so much noise and destruction.

They first met the other inhabitants of the island the following afternoon. Claire hadn’t realised that anything had happened until she heard a commotion at the treeline at the edge of the beach, and everyone racing over in that direction. Carrying the extra weight as she was, it took her a while longer than everyone else to get over there and see what all the fuss was about, and she was very tempted to just stay exactly where she was and let someone else report back. Still, from all the raised voices, it sounded like something important was happening, so she heaved herself off the sand and made her way across to the source of all the excitement.

She had to double take when she saw it.

There was a man sitting casually in the upper branches of one of the trees, calmly gazing down at the gathered survivors. At least, Claire had to assume that he was a man. His skin was a greenish grey colour with a slight sparkling sheen to it, as if he was coated in a layer of gold dust, and his eyes were wide and an unnaturally yellow-grey. He seemed completely at ease in the tree and not at all worried by the fact that Sayid was holding the axe he’d been using to chop firewood, and Sawyer was pointing the marshal’s gun at him. In fact, when he saw the gun, he just tutted, waggling one clawed finger at Sawyer.

“Honestly. Humans. Always the same since the dawn of time. You accidentally find somewhere new and immediately start pointing weapons at the locals.” He tsked again. “It’s really not a good first impression, dearie.”

“Who the hell are you?” Sawyer asked. His brow was furrowed as if he couldn’t quite believe the evidence of his own eyes, and it appeared to be a common sentiment among all the people gathered under the tree.

“Ah, names have power, dearie, but since it looks like we’re all going to have to get along until your rescue arrives, if it arrives, I will be charitable for now. You may call me Rumpelstiltskin. Welcome to my home. Please put the gun down or I may be forced to do something drastic, and believe me, I do not require firearms to do it.”

“Rumpelstiltskin?” Beside Claire, Shannon scoffed. “As in that little imp from the fairy tales who steals babies?”

Claire looked down at her belly, worried for the first time since she’d seen the strange man.

“I did not steal them!” Rumpelstiltskin leaned at little further out of the tree, ignoring Sayid and Sawyer, and pointed an accusatory finger at Shannon. He seemed more enraged about her comment than he had done about being threatened in the first place. “I received them in fair deals that mothers then cried foul on because they didn’t understand what they were getting into, so eager were they for the untold riches I could provide!”

Shannon threw her hands up in defence and took a couple of steps back. “Ok…”

“Sawyer, maybe you ought to put the gun down.” Jack, as ever the voice of reason, came forward to the front of the group.

“Are you crazy, Doc?” Sawyer jabbed a finger towards Rumpelstiltskin. “Because he definitely is!”

“I am.” Rumpelstiltskin nodded calmly. “Spend a few years here with only Mal for company and you’ll all be a little…” He swirled a finger next to his temple. “Which is why we need to get you off this island as soon as possible. Can’t have you going bananas. The only bananas we want here are the kind that grow in the trees.”

“How long have you been here?” Sayid had since put down the axe and was looking at Rumpelstiltskin with more curiosity than fear.

Rumpelstiltskin counted on his fingers, holding up three.

“Three years?”

“No.” He seemed a little offended by the suggestion. “Three centuries, dearie.”

“All right, we’ve got a crazy guy who looks like someone had an intimate encounter with a crocodile and who is apparently over three hundred years old.” Sawyer shook his head in disbelief. “I’m not the only one hearing this, right?”

There was a general murmur of consensus among the survivors and Sawyer finally lowered the gun.

“All right. I’ll play along. How do you propose we get off this island, then?”

“Well, if I knew how to get off, don’t you think I would have done it two-hundred and ninety-nine odd years ago?” Rumpelstiltskin gave Sawyer a butter-wouldn’t-melt smile. “Still, there’s what, fifty of you, and there’s only been me and Mal for so long, so I’m sure that fifty heads are better than two. Although, having seen some of you, I’m not so sure.”

“Hey!”

“Sawyer, leave it.” Jack stepped forward, unofficial spokesperson for the group. “Is there anyone else on the island?”

“Apart from me and Mal? I think there’s a man in a bunker somewhere, but he might have blown his brains out by now.”

“What about that thing in the jungle last night?” Kate asked. “It was loud enough; you must have heard it.”

“Oh, that’s Mal, no need to worry about her. She doesn’t realise how big she is sometimes.” Rumpelstiltskin waved the concern away airily.

“How big is she?”

“Well, she’s a dragon, dearie, so she’s rather large at times.”

“A dragon? Ok, that’s it, this is just ridiculous now.” Sawyer threw his hands up in defeat and left the group, taking with him a great deal of the tension. Although Rumpelstiltskin had seemed at ease before, he visibly relaxed now that Sawyer was gone.

“What do you mean, ‘rather large at times’?”

Claire couldn’t help thinking that Kate was focussing on the wrong things here, but since they’d already accepted the existence of Rumpelstiltskin, they might as well accept the existence of a dragon as well.

“She’s not in her dragon shape all the time, obviously.”

There was silence for a moment, until Rumpelstiltskin suddenly clapped his hands together, startling the gathered survivors.

“Well, that was a lovely introduction. You know me, I know you, welcome to the magical island where, yes, dragons do exist. Please think twice before pointing weapons in my direction and please don’t worry about Mal, she’s harmless. I’m sure our paths will cross again before you leave, please pick up all litter, please be aware that those little orange berries are extremely poisonous, and otherwise make yourselves at home but don’t abuse our hospitality.”

He raised one hand, about to snap his fingers, but then he paused, cocking his head on one side and staring straight at Claire. She took a step back under the force of his gaze, and Shannon and Kate stepped in closer to her protectively.

“Are you sure you should have been flying, dearie?” he asked softly. “You look about ready to drop.”

“I…” Claire put her hands on her belly. “The doctor said it was fine,” she said.

“Well, just keep him safe in there, all right?”

With that, he vanished in a fingersnap, as if he’d never been there at all, leaving the survivors all looking at each other, trying to work out if that had really just happened or if they’d all had a mass hallucination.

With impeccable timing, Claire felt a little kick against her palm, and she gasped.

“Claire? You ok, hun?”

She nodded. “He moved. First time since the crash.”

She didn’t know why she suddenly thought he was a boy. Maybe because Rumpelstiltskin had seemed so sure. All the same, he was now definitely a boy in her mind. She looked back up at the tree branch where Rumpelstiltskin had sat. She’d been unnerved when he’d taken a sudden interest in her, but she hadn’t been scared. He’d seemed genuinely concerned for her and the baby.

Claire shook herself and moved away with the dissipating crowd.

Only time would tell.

The next few days passed mostly without incident, and Claire was almost beginning to think that she had dreamed the encounter with Rumpelstiltskin, if it wasn’t for everyone casting wary glances at the tree line now and again.

It was night-time when she saw him again. Sayid and Jack were keeping watch by the bonfire, and Claire couldn’t sleep. Now that Baby had started moving again, it felt like he was moving all the time. Especially whenever she was trying to get some rest. There was no use in even attempting to sleep yet, so she sat up in her little tent, looking around.

He was standing under the tree they’d first seen him in, watching the camp. There was nothing nefarious in his gaze. If anything, it was protective, fatherly. She wondered if he’d kept watch over them before and they just hadn’t noticed.

Presently there was a little rustle in the trees, and someone joined him, a woman with the tips of horns peeping out of her mess of curly blonde hair. She must have been the mysterious Mal. At least they hadn’t had any dragon-related incidents since that first night.

Claire watched them for a few minutes, until Rumpelstiltskin looked straight at her and waved. She ducked back inside her tent in embarrassment, before curiosity overcame her and she stepped out, picking her way across the sand towards them.

“Hello again, dearie. How are you and the little one?”

Claire nodded. “All right. He’s keeping me up.”

Mal gave a soft laugh. “Yes, they do. It’s only going to get worse, I’m afraid.”

“Do you have children?”

“I had a daughter.” Mal sighed, and Claire decided that the past tense was enough not to press the point.

“Glad to hear you’re both doing well. Hopefully, you’ll be nice and safe and snug somewhere on terra firma when the time comes.”

“Yeah.” Claire sighed. She hadn’t wanted to resign herself to having the baby on the island yet, but the longer it took for rescue to find them, the more it seemed like she was going to have to do just that. “Hopefully.” She paused, the question that had been hanging at the back of her mind for the last few days now sitting on the tip of her tongue. “Why are you so concerned for me and the baby?” she asked. “I mean, I’m not going to accuse you of wanting to steal him, but…” She sighed. “Did you know I was going to give him up for adoption?”

Rumpelstiltskin shook his head. “I don’t know things. But I suspect them. I have a certain degree of foresight which gives me a certain degree of insight.” He gave a long, heavy sigh, and with that sigh, Claire could well believe that he was over three hundred years old, and the weight of all those centuries was bearing down on him now. “We don’t get new life on this island,” he said. “It’s part of the curse that brought us here. We’re static, and we’re very old. He’s something new.” He nodded towards her belly. “He’s a brand new soul, and as such we will do all we can to protect him.”

There was a fierceness in his words, and in that moment, Claire knew that he meant it, and that he and Mal, for all their strangeness, could be trusted. Whether he would help them off the island or not, she knew that they were at least safe with him.

“You should try and sleep,” Mal said. “You need as much as you can get, even if it’s only a catnap.”

Claire nodded and began to make her way back to her tent. Mal and Rumpelstiltskin were still there in the shadows when she glanced back over her shoulder.

“She’s too young for you.”

“Mal, I’m three hundred and fifty-two years old. Everyone is too young for me except you. And we established a couple of centuries ago that we’re good friends, but we definitely do not like each other in that way.”

“You know what I mean.”

They were watching Claire retreating down the beach.

Rumpelstiltskin sighed. “I know. But there’s something about her. She’s their heart, although they don’t know it yet. She’s special, Mal, surely you can see it too.”

“Rumpel, she’s a human who’s about to have a baby and who desperately needs to get off this island and you’re an Immortal who’s been banished here and can’t leave it. It’ll never work. But yes, I will admit that she is lovely. Inside and out.”

“Do you think you could… you know.”

Mal rolled her eyes but nonetheless acquiesced, bringing her hands up to her mouth. Her eyes flashed reptilian gold for a moment as she blew a puff of smoke into her palms, forming it into a ball. Rumpelstiltskin snapped his fingers, encasing the ball in a soft lilac glow.

“Don’t say I never do anything for you.”

“It’s not for me, Mal. It’s for Claire.”

Mal just raised an eyebrow and moved back into the trees away from the survivors’ camp. Rumpelstiltskin snapped his fingers, rematerialising outside Claire’s little tent. She startled when she saw him.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. This is from me and Mal.” He held out the lilac ball and Claire took it.

“It’s warm. Sorry, that’s stupid, of course you know it’s warm.”

“It’s dragon smoke,” he explained. “It’ll warm and cool as you need it to, and it should ease the pain and make you more comfortable. Like Mal said, you need your sleep.”

Gingerly, Claire put the ball behind her back, almost immediately giving a sigh of relief.

“Oh, that feels great. Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome.”

He made to vanish away, but Claire’s voice stopped him.

“Wait, Rumpelstiltskin.”

“Yes, Claire?”

“Will you stay a while?”

“If you would like.”

Claire nodded, patting the blanket beside her, and Rumpelstiltskin sat down.

“No one really talks to me,” she said. “It’s like I’m this ticking time bomb waiting to go off. They’re all polite about it, but they’re all thinking the same thing. What happens when the baby’s on the outside?” She sighed. “You’re the only one who seems to see past that and look me in the eye. You’re not worried about what’ll happen when the baby’s here. You’re more concerned with making sure we’re both ok right now.”

Rumpelstiltskin shrugged. “It just makes sense, that’s all.”

They fell into silence for a while.

“Earlier, you said that you and Mal were under a curse that had brought you here.”

“Yes. I wasn’t quite sure you’d believe that.”

“Well, I’ve learned to believe in fairy tale characters and dragons over the last few days, so why not believe in magic and curses too? Hurley thinks he’s cursed, it’s not too far-fetched.”

“Yes, Mal and I are cursed. For my part it was the entirely wrongful baby-stealing reputation. Mal’s is roughly the same, although she did actually steal one; an eye for an eye to replace her own stolen child.” He sighed. “They always went to good homes. For every set of careless parents who dealt their child away to me without realising what they had done and trying to renege on a fair contract, there was another set of parents who would do anything to have a babe of their own – even make a deal with me. It all worked out very well for the little ones in the end, and even despite my current exile, I don’t regret any of it.”

“You just wanted the best for the children.”

Rumpelstiltskin nodded, and Claire smiled.

“Thank you for looking out for mine. Even though you knew I was going to give him up.”

“You were doing what was best for him. If you didn’t think that you would be able to care for him, then making a deal to give him up to someone who could was the right thing to do. That’s not something to be ashamed of. It shows more sense and maturity than most of the people I dealt with.”

“I don’t know what I’m going to do now if I can’t get off the island. I never thought I’d actually be a mother.”

“You have more help than you know. Everyone will band together for you, as much as they might be avoiding you now. Responsibility, once it’s there, will change things. And you know that you can always call on me and Mal if you need us. We’ve lived here for so long and gone so mad that we really don’t want it to happen to anyone else, so we’ll do what we can to help.”

“Thank you.” She reached across, taking Rumpelstiltskin’s hand and squeezing. He startled for a moment before squeezing back tentatively.

“You know, I’m looking out for you, too,” he said eventually. “Not just the little one. You’re a remarkable person in your own right, you know.”

Claire looked away, her cheeks colouring in the firelight.

“Thank you.”

“I’ll leave you to get some rest now. But just call if you need me. Names have power, after all.”

Claire nodded.

“Rumpelstiltskin?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you for everything.”

She leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek before lying down again and readjusting the ball of smoke behind her back; within a minute she was sleeping peacefully.

Rumpelstiltskin vanished back to his home in the trees, touching the place on his cheek where Claire had kissed him. Let Mal be cynical. He wouldn’t have got this far and survived this long without hope, and he was going to keep that hope till the end.

The ball of dragon smoke was still just the right temperature when Claire woke, and she smiled, stowing it in her luggage for when she next needed it. She cast her mind back over the previous night, and her discussion with Rumpelstiltskin. As strange as it seemed to be developing feelings for the man, she couldn’t deny that the feelings were definitely developing. It would be strange, of course it would – she was human and he was whatever he was, and he was cursed to spend his eternity on this island whereas she was very much determined to get off it.

But that didn’t mean that she couldn’t have hope that maybe something more could come of their tentative friendship, after all.

#OUAT fanfiction #LOST fanfiction #Claire Littleton #Rumpelstiltskin #Claire/Rumpelstiltskin #AU-gust #Magic AU #Worry does AU-gust #Fic: A Jungle Fairy Tale

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evolutionsvoid · 5 years ago

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The Elmis Spires are a rather bizarre species that are found in equally bizarre places. The ecosystems they live in are rather rare and many people don't even know they exist! This may be in part because they share a name with another type of habitat. The place these strange critters live in are known as Volcanic Deserts, but they probably aren't the ones you think! Most volcanic deserts are barren places where vegetation struggles to grow. This is due to volcanic activity, which leads to large amounts of tephra and acidic rain. If you visited these regions, you wouldn't think too much of them. It would look like any other dry, rocky desert, save for the nearby volcano. The volcanic desert I am referring to is a much more imposing beast. These places are more like the sandy deserts made of great dunes and ergs. Except here, the sand is black. This is because the sand is made from the hardened lava that pours from the volcano. Wind and weather slowly breaks these rocks down to fine obsidian sand. Dunes made of darkness would already be interesting on their own, but that isn't all of it. The volcanoes that form these rare ecosystems must be active, and they are constantly oozing molten lava. So it is a desert that has rivers and streams, but not any you would want to drink from! These white hot flows travel throughout the desert, slowly cooling into the rock that will turn to sand. I feel that this habitat is what people think the Underworld is, a land of pitch black rock and rivers of burning lava. However, these are places you find right here on the surface, but they aren't easy to find and are even harder to survive in. It seems like every bit of these volcanic deserts (or obsidian deserts) is designed to create misery. The many dunes and ergs make travel difficult, as you sink and slip with practically every step. While the sand itself is very coarse and awful, it pales in comparison to the juts of volcanic rock you may find. These stones have the nasty habit of forming razor sharp edges that can slice through skin or bark with hardly any effort. Going near any of these rocky formations will guarantee a slicing, be it your clothing, equipment or your own body. And don't forget that these rocks can break into small pieces and get buried in the same colored sand! So you might just step somewhere and get a shard jabbed into your foot! How lovely! Then there is the issue about water. Since most of the landscape is sand, you won't be finding many pools or sources of groundwater. Your best bet is to get it from the storms that frequent these lands, but best of luck to you on that! Many of the storms that hit these deserts don't create rain, just crazy winds and an absurd amount of lightning. It currently isn't known why these ecosystems get so many of these powerful storms, but some think it may be a result of the landscape and mountains. Regardless, when one of these suckers hit, you want to be in shelter or literally anywhere else in the world. High winds churn up the sand and create dust storms of ludicrous proportions. A mixture of ash, obsidian and sand will fill the air, making it difficult and dangerous to breath. Even with proper breathing protection, the high speed of these aerial particles will make it feel like you are sliding down a mountain of sandpaper. Any exposed part of your body can have thin layers worn off, leaving some painful wounds. And if that doesn't sound bad enough, just wait til the lightning comes in! The storms that form in these areas seem to generate a crazy amount of lightning, which rain down on these deserts like explosive arrows. The whole sky will crackle and glow as webs of energy slither through the clouds. Bolts will plunge forth and strike the dunes with devastating force. Though these storms only last for minutes, it feels like hours when you are trapped in the middle of one! So if I haven't made it obvious enough yet, volcanic deserts are rough places. Some say they look like places where some villain would make their evil lair, but I assure you that even they would hate these habitats. I mention all of that to stress the point that these ecosystems are incredibly dangerous and harsh, which makes it astounding to realize that life is found there. Despite the storms, the razor stones and whipping sands, there are a number of species that call this place home. The Elmis Spire is one of those denizens, and they are perfectly built for such a rough place! Their body is coated in a thick exoskeleton to ward of the stinging sands and sharp rocks. Their many skittering legs allow them to move quickly across the dunes as well as scale any rocky formations they encounter. They are also capable of burrowing in the sand, using their legs and lower barb to dig themselves downward. The barb that protrudes from the bottom of their body is often mistaken for their mouth, as many see it as a toothy beak. Since their eyes are also down there, it make sense for that to be their mouth, right? In actuality, their mouth is located on their "abdomen." The vertical slit in their body is an orifice that they use for both respiration and feeding. It can open and close like any other mouth, but it is instead built for filtering rather than biting or chewing! Strainers and web-like membranes lie within this orifice, sifting through the air and sand for bits of food. Some may wonder what sustenance could be found in this dry air, it turns out that the answer is: spores! While green vegetation is almost nonexistent in this land, their role has been taken over by fungi! The most common fungus found here is the Fume Stalk, which is actually a keystone to the whole ecosystem! These large chimney-like growths are found lining the "banks" of these lava "rivers." These fungi seem to feed off the heat and gas that comes from these molten flows, turning it all into mass and extra growths. Other fungi species have taken up this role too, but none as plentiful as the Fume Stalk! They honestly look like some coral formation you would see in the ocean, not in some scorched desert! Though these towering stalks are many and fleshy looking, they themselves are awful food sources. Due to their diet and surroundings, their flesh is inedible to most creatures, perhaps even poisonous. I heard someone say that biting into one is like "trying to eat a crusty moldy apple that is filled with glass." Since I have no desire to test their description, I am going to say it is an accurate one! No idea how they know that, but I am going to guess that it isn't a happy story.

Though the Fume Stalk itself is rather inedible to most, it does provide an alternative food source. As they feed and grow, they release plumes of spores from their chimneys, filling the air with their young. These spores are meant to land near the molten rivers and grow into new stalks, but many don't get the chance. Wind and weather can spread these clouds in many directions, sending them to all corners of the desert. Though many may land in the cold black sands, their loss is insignificant. Fume Stalks pump out thousands if not millions of these spores a day, fueled by the constant heat of the lava. Any spores that land away from the rivers are trivial to the Fume Stalks, but they are blessings to the local wildlife. These clouds are what many of the lower members of the food web feed on, and the Elmis Spire is one of them. Their gaping mouths suck in these spores and then filter them out from the non-edible particles. The air and waste is released through the pores on its backside, allowing the Elmis Spire to have a constant flow of food and air through its body. Surrounding this area is a cluster of tendrils that its uses to taste and smell the air. These help it detect areas that are dense with spores, as well as smell danger before it can attack. After learning more about these creatures, I really wonder why something would even dare do such a thing! Though small and thin, Elmis Spires are not easy prey. Their spiky armor is not pleasant to bite, and they can scurry away quite quick! If escape is not possible, they will burrow into the sand and hide their body down below, leaving only the large yellow spike exposed. This at first seems like a simple defense, but that is until you realize the power they hide within themselves. When one of these storms sweeps through the desert, the Elmis Spires will seal their mouths and scramble to the nearest rock formation. They will climb to the top and anchor themselves with their clawed feet. There they will raise their tall spike up high and wait. While others run and hide from the winds and lightning, these little guys welcome it. By doing something strange with their internal anatomy, they are able to boost their chances of being struck by a bolt, which somehow doesn't kill them. Instead, their bodies have a way of taking this energy and storing it. These guys essentially use lightning to charge themselves up! You will see their bright spikes gain a faint glow when they have filled up, as it stands out quite obviously against the black sands. When they are charged, they are capable of releasing this energy when need to be, and that perfect time is when something is trying to bite them. Touching the rear spike of a charged Elmis Spire is a good way to get blasted off your feet. They release a powerful shock from their stored energy to fry their attackers and it is a potent weapon! However, this defense can only be used when they have energy stored up. After multiple shocks, they will be depleted and will have to wait until the next storm to recharge. Predators of theirs have learned how to trick them into attacking and draining their buildup, finally going in for the kill once they are dry. It is a risky maneuver though, as one slip up can wind up giving you jolt straight to the face! There is a current theory that the Elmis Spire may be distantly related to barnacles. With that in mind, many have wondered if they are also related to the Selsillik that live in the temperate rainforests. It is hard to say, as these two live in wildly different environments, but they do have some similar features. I would say that future research is needed to truly know, but that would make it sound like I was volunteering for such a thing. It is not because I dislike barnacles, I quite like them! Then again, researching them for years and years would be quite maddening. Some of the greatest minds have endured such tortures, but that isn't my point! The reason I wouldn't want to be a part of this project is because working in the volcanic deserts is quite miserable. Each ecosystem I have ever visited have their own negatives, but volcanic deserts are some of the worst for me. Pretty to look at, but absolutely wretched to experience. The grating sands, the knife-edged rocks and those awful storms that turn the whole land into a nightmare. I spent four weeks in one of those deserts, and it was four weeks of weary research and pondering my life choices. Just wondering how I wound up in such an awful place and why I was still there. It was curiosity's fault as usual, as I just couldn't pass up an opportunity like this! Its strangeness and uniqueness hypnotized me, and I fell face first into that siren's call! As I hunkered down in pitch black spiky caves, hoping the lightening wouldn't blast me to pieces, I just wondered: why here? Why couldn't I be a researcher that studied only nice places with good weather and wonderful locales? Like when I spent two months in a rainforest with the Furceros as I looked into local insect populations. Seeing rare colorful creatures, collecting new specimens for my bug collection, then ending it off with fig wine and festivities! Or when I buried myself in the archives for three weeks delving into the historical records of Bone Dragons! Losing myself in decades of knowledge, enjoying herring pie and falling asleep on a mound of books! Or when I went to literal Hel in the Underworld and found out that it had wonderful restaurants! The local cuisine is to die for and the Isodon Gumbo is a taste of perfection. Any of those places besides this storm ravaged wasteland! I have been in some pretty rough spots before, but being in a volcanic desert really made me wonder about retirement. But in the end, I do it all because I love research and discovery. Volcanic deserts are a rare and unique ecosystem filled with utterly bizarre creatures. As a lover of nature and natural history, I cannot resist the wonders that emerge in such a place. Though I curse its existence now, I bet you anything I will be back there again. Chlora Myron Dryad Natural Historian ------------------------------------------------------------ If I didn't have enough on my plate already, I just had to make another ecosystem. This one is a bit implausible, but this is a world that has magic in it already, so it is probably fine. This land was made from the mental image I got when I first heard of "volcanic deserts." It sounded so cool and crazy, but then I found that they are just rocky arid places around a volcano. Not so crazy. So I decided to have fun with it!

#monster #creature #art #drawing #lightning rod #volcanic desert

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monstersandmaw · 7 years ago

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Ko-fi commission - male mongoose monster + male naga x reader (sfw)

Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

Whoooff! This was a great prompt from a while back, which then turned into a ko-fi commission!

So, here it is! Sfw, featuring one feisty, grumpy little mongoose, and a snek who’s not prepared to put up with his shit... and a gender-neutral reader.

You rarely cursed, but when you felt your ankle go, sending you sprawling to the gravel of the trail with a sharp cry of surprise and pain, you definitely let out a curse. The river gushed away on your right, frothing and a beautiful bright blue as it churned at the base of the limestone cliff on the far side, while the dry pine needles of the evergreen forest scented the air on your left. The crack of a breaking twig set your heart lurching into a wild rhythm and you scrabbled frantically to sit up. When you saw the short, feisty looking, lean creature come poking its way out of the trees, you relaxed a little. These mongoose folk were rare, but the weren’t known for attacking humans.

Well, you relaxed until you realised that what you had at first taken for walking staff was in fact a guandao: a pole weapon with a large, curved blade at the top. The reason you hadn’t recognised it as a weapon was because of the leather wrappings bound tightly around the blade.

He seemed as surprised to find you there as you were to find yourself on the floor, and his golden eyes went wide at the sight of you, while his brindled fur, which had dark shadows with coppery and golden flecks, stood up on end in alarm. He walked upright on his hind legs, standing at perhaps just under five feet tall, his modesty covered by simple fur and leather, and he stared stupidly at you for a moment before shaking himself and approaching slowly. His movements were twitchy and nervy, his little ears flicking back and forth, but his voice was confident and quiet as he asked, “You alright? I thought I heard you fall.”

“I think I hurt my ankle,” you admitted, rotating it experimentally and wincing. “It’s just a twist, nothing serious, but I don’t think I really want to walk on it yet.”

“Maybe it would help if you dipped it in the river,” he suggested, his eyes darting to a boulder that jutted out from the path into the gushing water. “It’s cold with melt water at this time of year. I’ll help you if you like? I’m Tavi, by the way.” He grinned and you saw some sharp little teeth, and then he laid down his weapon at the edge of the path near the top of the gentle slope leading down to the river.

Accepting his help was surprisingly easy. Tavi was deceptively strong considering his lissom body and slender appearance, and it seemed to take no effort at all as he hooked his arm beneath yours and hoisted you cheerfully to your feet and half carried you down towards the water. He nattered away about the river and the forest and the uncommonly pleasant weather of late, constantly chirping on in order to distract you from the shock of the water on your inflamed ankle and the pain of the joint itself.

It worked, and just as you had opened your lips to thank him for his sweet kindness, he stiffened, nose in the air, his fur bristling all over, and a high pitched, intense growl sounded in his throat.

“Tavi? What is it?”

“Shh…” He began to breathe more rapidly, his chest heaving as he snuffed the breeze. “Naga,” he finally hissed. “Stay here. Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”

“Tavi!”

But your new friend was scuttling up the bank through the tall grass on all fours, even as you stood clumsily and yelled after him.

The bank was not steep, still affording you a good view of the path, and as you watched him, he stood upright again, snatched the covering from the guandao, and took up a fighting stance on the track. His delicate hind paws dug into the grit, and he snarled, thrashing his little bristling tail back and forth. You couldn’t even see a naga, but he was so clearly agitated. You knew that his kind and nagas were mortal enemies, having waged war on each other for centuries, but it saddened you to think of them fighting right there in front of you. Naga, however, unlike Tavi’s folk, were frequently extremely hostile towards humans.

A figure slowly emerged from the shadows of the trees a few moments later, and drew up short at the sight of the creature confronting him with a weapon. “Easssssy,” he hissed, holding up pale hands.

Your eyes widened. He was beautiful. His skin was two toned, his back and shoulders being inky black, as well as the upper side of his tail, while his human chest and stomach, and the belly of his tail, were a warm, creamy ivory colour. His face had the sharp, serpentine features of all naga, and his orange eyes bore the vertical, slit pupils familiar to you from others of his kind. The smooth skin of his face was mottled black and cream, and his glowing eyes darted straight over to you the moment he noticed you staring at him. Tavi took the naga’s distraction and pressed his advantage, jabbing the weapon forwards.

“No!” you screamed, and in the split second your cry reverberated off the rocks and trees, the naga darted backwards, drawing himself upright and hissing defensively. As he did so, two large frills puffed out like a cobra’s on his neck, and he began to weave slightly from side to side as his opponent readied himself for a fresh attack.

“Come to feast on helpless prey?” Tavi snarled, darting in and bouncing back again.

“I heard a ssssshout,” the naga replied in a soft, lisping, susurrating tenor voice, never taking his eyes off Tavi. “I came to invesssstigate. Pleassse, I didn't mean any harm.”

“A likely tale,” Tavi sneered. “You’re here for an easy meal. You’re vile scum, all of you. Heartless, soulless, venomous worms the lot of you…” He lunged for the naga with a whirling, spinning attack like a dancer, and in defence, the naga brought up his tail in a wide arc. The thick, supple muscle connected with Tavi’s midsection and he flew, winded, to land heavily in the dust a good ten yards away from where he had been standing.

“Stop it, both of you!” you screeched, standing painfully. “For goodness’ sake! Stop it!”

And to your immense surprise, they did.

Tavi picked himself up, brushing bits out of his coat, and turned to glare at the naga. The naga, however, lowered the cobra-like collar and turned to you. “Are you alright?” he asked shyly.

“Yeah,” you said. “I just twisted my ankle, like an idiot… Tavi here suggested I soak it in the cold water to help any swelling.”

The naga smiled. “A good idea,” he said softly, and then he looked up at the sky. “It’ssssss going to rain,” he murmured.

“No it’s not,” Tavi countered immediately.

The naga sighed and rolled his eyes. “It issssss,” was all he said as he began to slither away. With gasp you noticed that the blade of Tavi’s weapon had nicked his shoulder, and blood was slowly oozing down the sculpted muscles of his arm.

“You hurt him!” you glared at Tavi, but the mongoose only shrugged.

“Sure I did,” he laughed. “He would only have shot his poison at me if I hadn’t.”

The naga turned, eyes aflame with indignation. “I came here to help, you little ssssshit,” he fired. “To help! How dare you accusssse me of anything. You attacked me!”

“You shouldn’t have tried to sneak up on me!”

“You didn’t have to attack me on sight!” he blared back. “You could have waited!”

This was ridiculous. As the first few spits of drizzle hit your cheeks, you clenched your fists and gritted your teeth. The other two fell silent the moment you began to climb up the short bank, bravely ignoring the flare of hot pain in the joint each time it bore your weight.

“Wait, what are you doing?” Tavi asked, plainly baffled. “You shouldn’t be walking on it yet…”

“I’m sure as hell not going to sit here and listen to you two insult each other to death,” you said. “Besides,” you added, looking at Tavi pointedly, “It’s raining.”

“But… where are you going to go?” the mongoose asked, deeply concerned, his little ears all pricked forwards as you struggled to join them on the path. “It’s too far back to the town from here.”

The naga began to slither slowly towards you. “Here,” he said, extending an elegant, clawed hand down to you. His blue-black skin was mottled with pale spots, as though someone had splashed white paint over his thumb and up the inside of his wrist.

As he did so, Tavi’s guandao flashed down, stopping mere inches from the naga’s wrist. In turn, the naga flicked his tail up so quickly you saw nothing but a dark blur, and he knocked the weapon from Tavi’s paw-like hands.

“Son of a -” Tavi began as it fell with a clatter, but you slipped before he could finish his exclamation, and you gave a grunt of pain as searing heat shot up your leg and your ankle gave way.

The naga lunged forwards and caught you before you toppled over, drawing you easily back up onto the path and carefully setting you down without letting go of you. You smiled up at him and thanked him, letting him take most of your weight for the moment.

Tavi picked up the guandao and jabbed the point of it up straight into the naga’s face, stopping just shy of his slightly flattened nose with its almost vertical nostrils. The naga never let go of you, but you felt his grip tighten on you and the very tips of his sharp claws just pricked you through your jacket. His forked tongue shot out and he hissed a warning at Tavi, those cobra-like frills rising out once again. Fascinated, you ached to touch one, but sensed that now wasn’t quite the time.

“Get your hands off -” Tavi began, but the naga just rolled his eyes.

“Pleassse,” he said snorted. “If I let go, it will put more weight on that ankle. Better we go to my cave - you can even come too, furball - and sssit out this ssshower than all get sssssoaked ssstanding around out here. Hmm?”

Tavi’s breathing was rapid and shallow, but eventually he nodded grudgingly, and you let the naga help you gradually up the path.

“What’s your name?” you asked him, stealing a glance up at his unusual and handsome face. The skin around his hairline was dark as spilled ink, and his black hair fell down loose over his shoulders. There was the remnants of an old, thin braid in it, and from the end of it dangled a small charm with a feather. Around his golden eyes he had two blotchy, paler patches, and the one on his right cheek spilled down to his lips which were full, the corners sharply defined.

He paused his gentle slithering and smiled softly. “Jhinyu. My name is Jhinyu.”

“Tavi and Jhinyu,” you grinned, “My two heroes.” Tavi growled softly at that, and you laughed. “I mean it!” and then the mirth died in your voice as you winced, catching your foot on an uneven patch of the track.

“You know,” Jhinyu said, “It might be easssssier, and quicker, if you let me carry you?”

Tavi interrupted sourly, “What, so you can dart off through the trees and make your escape? No way, buddy.”

“Perhapsssss you should offer your sssservices insssstead,” Jhinyu said calmly, eyeing Tavi’s small stature. The mongoose warrior was clearly strong, but he was shorter even than you, and would probably have struggled to carry you very far. That he knew this was written all over his face and he chirruped something angrily to himself.

“Relax, Tavi,” you smiled, trying to assuage his fears.

“Easy for you to say: swept off your feet by a big handsome naga…” he grumbled.

“You think I’m handsome?” Jhinyu grinned at him as he did precisely that and picked you up in his arms, carrying you as if you were newly-weds.

Tavi sputtered, his ears pricking forwards and then pinning flat back to his skull. “Of course not. Nagas are all far too… slithery for my liking. Makes me want to bite something.”

Jhinyu chuckled softly but made no further comment.

Tavi stumped along next to you, slashing at the undergrowth with his guandao, until you reached a homely looking cave in a rocky outcrop amid the trees. The wind sighed through the branches and seemed to echo in chorus with the soft sliding of Jhinyu’s pale belly scales over the scattered pine needles. Raindrops spattered down through gaps in the canopy as the cloudburst intensified, and Jhinyu began to move more slowly, shivering now and again. Tavi too looked decidedly dejected as he scuffed through the leaf litter on the forest floor with his little hind paws. His little ears were wet, and his fur was beginning to mat and become bedraggled, and you would have reached for his arm to reassure him if you’d been able to.

Jhinyu ducked low through the narrow opening of the cave, and set you down on top of a huge boulder in the centre of the small cavern, beside a large fire pit. A hole in the roof would draw the smoke upwards when the fire was lit, and the naga shivered visibly. His mottled blue-black and cream body shone with the rain, accentuating the muscles of his arms and torso, but his black hair was stuck limply to his head and shoulders. He looked honestly miserable.

“Sssshould I sssstart a fire?” he asked, his voice trembling with the cold.

“That’d be great,” you smiled, but it soon turned into a frown when you saw him fumbling with cold, clawed hands to pick up a flint and steel from a ledge nearby.

Tavi watched for a while and then snorted. “You get the firewood,” he said. “And I’ll actually light the fire, alright, icicle?” and he held out his palm for the flint and steel. Reluctantly, the naga acquiesced, and slithered sluggishly off to a back corner of the modest cave to bring over some dry logs and kindling.

Tavi’s glittering eyes met yours and he said playfully, “I like it when they’re cold. They’re slow…”

You rolled your eyes, catching the jest in his tone nonetheless.

Jhinyu didn’t seem to get it though, because he hissed a warning at him, and said, “Well, if you need usssss to even the oddsss a little, I ssssuppose you’ll take what you can get.” His already lisping voice was thick, as though his tongue wasn’t working properly, and you stared once again at the cut on his arm. It had been washed by the drizzling rain, but still it wept a thin sheen of pink down his wet arm.

“Have you got a bandage, Jhinyu?” you asked.

Both of them looked up sharply and asked as one, “Are you hurt?”

You gazed from one to the other of them, and then burst out laughing.

“What?” they again asked together, and then, with matching scowls, glared at each other.

“It’s for Jhinyu,” you said. “I’m fine. But maybe you two aren’t as different as you claim…”

Neither of them liked that suggestion, but you shrugged it off with a laugh. Tavi got the fire going and helped you down off the boulder once you’d patched up Jhinyu’s arm. You squeezed Tavi’s hand as he steadied you, feeling the smooth, warm, leathery skin of his palm beneath your fingertips. “Thank you,” you said. “I’m very grateful for all your help.”

“How’s it doing?” he asked quietly, nodding down at your ankle.

“Much better for having cooled it immediately,” you said. “That was a good idea.”

He smiled a cute little smile and helped you to lower yourself to the ground beside the fire. The flames danced and flickered, smoke coiling up towards the ceiling, and you took a deep inhale. The cave was pretty small for the three of you, and the rough-hewn ceiling was barely high enough for Jhinyu to move about without cracking his head on it. In all, it was perhaps only about six or seven yards wide, and maybe ten yards deep.

The naga saw you gazing around his home, and bowed his head, his shoulders drooping. “I know it’ssss not much,” he said, trying to put a brave smile on.

“It’s cosy,” you reassured him.

Tavi chimed in with a muttered, “Filthy viper’s nest.”

“Oh and I suppose your little worm-filled burrow is sssso much more sssssanitary,” Jhinyu snarled.

“It’s better than this!” Tavi retorted.

“Stop it!” you yelled again. “Please! Can’t you just try to get along?”

“He doesn’t have to sssstay,” Jhinyu said sharply.

Tavi sighed. “I don’t trust you,” he said flatly. “I’m not going anywhere til I can see our human safely back to the town.”

You grinned at that. “‘Our’ human?”

With a grumble, Tavi stood abruptly from where he’d been sitting cross legged beside you, and stalked to the entrance of the cave to stare out at the sheeting rain.

Jhinyu approached, and the mongoose turned to watch, but all the naga did was hold out a small log and two cushions. “Here,” he said. “Sssslide that under your ankle. You ssssshould raise it up a bit. And you can sssssit on thissssss one.”

Your hands brushed his fingers as he handed the cushion to you, and you gasped. “Jhin, you’re freezing! Come and sit by the fire!”

“You don’t mind?” he asked, his teeth chattering.

“Of course not!” You shot a glance at Tavi, who was marching back over to you, and rolled your eyes. “Sure, let’s have both of you over here. Play nicely now, boys…”

Jhinyu parted his lips, his jaw unhinging unnervingly wide, and hissed possessively at the mongoose, who curled up beside you and laid his head in your lap, growling like a thunderstorm in a leather bag.

As you began to pet Tavi’s ears and head, the growling subsided into something much gentler, and with a jolt you realised he was purring softly. “There,” you whispered to yourself a while later. His breathing had evened out, and you realised he must have been exhausted. He was fast asleep in your lap with one hand resting on your thigh.

You glanced over at Jhinyu, who had leaned his human torso against the boulder in the centre of the room, and coiled his tail tightly around himself to form a perfect little knot beneath himself. He had folded his arms across his chest and was nodding off too, his head dipping slowly, only to snap up again.

“It’s alright,” you whispered. “You can sleep too.”

He smiled shyly at you. “I’m so cold,” he whimpered.

You raised one arm and invited him to come closer and lay his head on your shoulder. “It’s warmer by the fire… Bring a few of those blankets,” you added, eyeing a small pile of them on a rocky shelf at the side of the cave.

Reluctantly, he uncoiled himself, grabbed the blankets, and slunk over to you. He draped the first around your shoulders before you leaned back against the large boulder with a moan of satisfaction, and then, even more reluctantly, he shook a second out, letting it fall slowly down over the sleeping warrior in your lap. You smiled up at him, and he rolled his eyes before pulling a third blanket around his own shoulders and leaning his body against your side, resting his head on your shoulder.

“My two heroes,” you said again, and he hissed a soft laugh.

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Thank you for the ko-fis! I really appreciate your support!!

Want a drabble all of your own? Buy me a ko-fi, and specify any monster/reader/(n)sfw combination, and it’s yours!! The monster doesn’t have to be one of my existing ones! One ko-fi buys you 10 sentences, and feel free to stack ko-fis up to create a longer story! (10-sentence drabbles tag - some nsfw in there too)

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#ko-fi commissions #10 sentence drabbles #though this is clearly not 10 sentences #i need it for the ko-fi stories tag...#anyway #male monster #male naga #mongoose monster #gender neutral reader #sfw

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wishiwashisushi · 6 years ago

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New evolution ideas for shroomish!🍄

The healer Pokemon

•Faegi (fae / fungi)

-Based off a medieval nurse and the veiled lady mushroom.

Fairy🌸 / Psychic🔮

Faegi are gentle caretakers who will heal any injured being they come upon. Though they are typically peaceful their true strength will come out when they're defendjng those who can't protect themselves. The spore on the end of its tail can be used to wrap wounds for quick healing. People and Pokemon are drawn to it's sweet aroma and it's soft glow at night.

Moves: draining kiss, moonlight, heal pulse, psybeam

Evolution: shroomish reaches level 23 while holding a veiled shroom.

_____________________________________

• Dague (death / plague)

-Based off a medieval plague doctor and the ink-cap mushroom.

The epidemic Pokemon

Poison⚗️ / Dark🌑

Dague live a life of solitude, bringing disastrous illnesses wherever they wonder. The clear spore on the tip of its tail produces a potent toxin, it can either inject it using it's sharp claws or spread it by shaking loose the small spores from underneath it's coat. It is rumored that the person who catches a glimpse of this Pokemon in a cemetery at night is doomed to a slow and painful demise.

Moves: poison jab, poison powder, hone claws, night slash

Evolution: shroomish reaches level 23 while holding an ink shroom.

#pokemon #fakemon #pokemon ideas #shroomish #my creations

12 notes · View notes

rinusagitora · 6 years ago

Text

All very ghoulish (2/10)

Fandom: Bleach

Characters: Karin Kurosaki, Ichigo Kurosaki, Rukia Kuchiki, Kisuke Urahara, Momo Hinamori, Izuru Kira, Tessai Tsukabishi, Ururu Tsumugiya, Tier Harribel, Kenpachi Zaraki, Genryuusai Yamamoto, Toushirou Hitsugaya, Masaki Kurosaki, Mayuri Kurotsuchi, Nemu Kurotsuchi, Yuzu Kurosaki

Pairings: minor KiraHina

Words: 6,100+

Summary: Monster!AU collab w/ @back-in-a-bit. SFW version; Chaos overtakes London, and Karin undergoes a strange procedure.

AO3: works/16307414/chapters/49021901#workskin (NSFW)

Momo Hinamori felt like she rode roller coasters more often than not.

For the last four decades, she was Sousuke Aizen's loyal wife, and then only two years ago, he was incarcerated for being one evil son of a bitch, and she hadn't gotten back on her feet since then. Her nightmares persisted. Her ribs still hurt, even though she healed months ago. It was very much like he leached on her bones.

Momo Hinamori was once a monster with serrated teeth and a fire in her core. Presently, she was just embers, coddled in her new husband's mink coat and bottle-fed with packs and packs of cigarettes.

Thankfully, strip clubs allowed indoor smoking. She was never caught without something made of nicotine and ordinarily poisonous chemicals between her lips. Their invoices came in clean like linen and were filed strongly smelling like tobacco.

Still, Shinji pet her hair like a cat, or his child, even though she stank and looked at him like he was a cannibal.

“You should go home tonight, sweetie,” he said. “You’ve done more than enough for the girls tonight. Go back home to your husband.”

She smiled. “Okay. Thank you, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Momo gathered her purse and coat, headed outside, and she hailed a taxi on the street. "Caridge Park Apartments, please," she said.

"Caridge Park," the driver copied. "Care if I listen to the radio?"

"Go ahead."

Momo's head laid against the glass. A news station turned on. Momo didn't care much for the news, so she tuned it out and instead fiddled with her phone.

She received a text message over Kik from a family friend, Nemu Kurotsuchi. Gin Ichimaru had critically injured her husband Izuru when they defected and attempted to destroy the Seireitei coven. Nemu used her magic to heal him. Izuru and Nemu were good friends ever since, almost like father and daughter. Momo was fond of Nemu as well. While they only spoke in private, Nemu was a brilliant, sweet young woman, and it wasn't uncommon for them to text back and forth.

Nemu's text worried Momo, however. Nemu had only sent and apology.

The sun was just over the horizon. The speaker mentioned an explosion at a call center, the call center her dear brother worked at, and it felt like her guts dislodged. It felt like her teeth were knocked out all over again.

"I-I'm sorry, can you turn that off? I need to make a call," Momo said.

"Sure thing."

Momo quickly dialed Toushirou and it immediately went to voicemail. Momo swore time stopped. Her and Toushirou weren't close, not like when they were kids, but she loved him enough to think about him every day. She called her husband next. She didn't even bother with salutations. "My brother's workplace just blew up," she croaked.

"Oh my God," Izuru said over the receiver. "Momo, where are you?"

"I need you to call Rangiku for me. Tell her to get in touch with Akon right away. I'll call you when I'm done. I love you."

Momo crushed her phone in her hand. With the speed of a viper, she slammed the metal shards in the driver's face, and forced heat into her hands. The cab swerved into a phone tower. The horn blared.

Momo was completely unaffected. She calmly kicked off her heels and stepped into the glass-ridden street, where she molted her human skin. Her arms, four, to be exact, pushed down her skin to her ankles, where she emerged with cloven hooves. The tips of her inward fire licked the open lesions across her chest and shoulders, which cast a discordant light onto her face. She pulled her mink coat over her body, ignored the smell of singed fur, and vanished with a spark.

The explosion was no accident. Momo had questions for Nemu.

---

Toushirou's life normally amounted to nothing less than a circus, but between his strange dreams and sleep deprivation, it felt like he was on acid in a funhouse, jabbed and taunted by various spooks as he stumbled across the simplest entrapments. His body protested but Toushirou intended for his pain to be kept under lock and key.

He rolled his shoulders. They ground in their sockets, a sound much like when the bones of shapeshifters shifted into place. It never failed to make his stomach churn.

He was sick. At the same time, he refused to treat the symptoms. It was a demonic thing. Any indication of weakness was a recipe for cannibalism. After Sousuke Aizen, Gin Ichimaru, Tousen Kaname couped and killed at least a dozen of their coven members, Toushirou didn’t dare test his luck. He remembered all too well he wasn’t the only thing which lurked in the darkness, as ironic as it was.

Toushirou distracted himself from such miserable thoughts. The coven group chat displayed several new messages. Juushirou was abuzz about Mayuri's latest disappearance, as if that oddball didn't have a new act every weekend. Toushirou made sure to let Juushirou know not to worry about that clown privately. Toushirou was one of the newest members of their coven, after his former coven was incorporated into Seireitei due to their small number's inability to handle the increase of ghoul attacks, and since he was so new and youthful, he was still leered at. He knew it was necessary to make friends. Juushirou, a handsome and ancient fae, was amiable and liked by almost everyone. He was a great in for Toushirou.

He glanced at himself in the mirror by the door one last time. His suit was starched, his bedhead handsome. Telecommunications wasn't his favorite occupation, but it was better than his managerial position at McDonalds. It wasn't like his demonic pride was intact in the first place.

At five in the morning, traffic was a blur of barren red lights until the intersection a block away from the call center where he was employed. Brittany Coschtz pulled up in her little Prius, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, with her shiny pink hair pulled back into a messy bun, and her smile wide as the Amazon River. She was pretty. Toushirou let himself go in recent years when he compared himself to her. His neck sinews smoothed out, his chest was undefined. Nonetheless, he couldn't help but imagine sexual exchanges.

Brittany pulled ahead of him once the light turned green. His wood shrank. Toushirou missed the flat expanse of his groin.

In the parking lot, Toushirou paused when he came upon the security guard in the middle of a heated argument with an older woman.

Seconds later, Toushirou disregarded the encounter. It wasn't the first time someone trespassed and was warded off by security. His job was to train entry-level phone staff. It wasn't his concern.

"Good morning class," Toushirou said when he finally arrived to the training room. "Cell phones away, it's not like there's service down here anyways."

Phones were tucked away before he confiscated them. He began to boot up his desktop. "We're starting with escalations today. Bring up the curriculum and select the first hyperlink under escalations."

"Toushirou, did you see the chick outside?"

He rolled his eyes. Of course they wouldn't share his apathy to the subject. "Yes. I walked right past her and Dwight talking. He's got it covered. Don't worry about it."

"I saw Brittnay pull in earlier, but I didn't see her come in. Is she okay?"

"Everything is fine. Let's just get to work. Dwight has been working security here for sixteen years. He's more than capable of taking care of trespassers."

"Yeah, but like... did you see her teeth? She had like giant fangs. Are they fake?"

That did concern Toushirou. He hadn't picked up any ghoulish malevolence, though. Who knew what it was.

All said and done, Toushirou was disconcerted. What if they were to be attacked within the hour? Toushirou worked so long to preserve the life he crafted for himself. It took years to reach a comfortable job, to blend into humanity. He wasn't sure he had the patience to completely change his identity in the event he had to protect himself.

"Alright, everyone open the curriculum and go to week three and start on Situational Calls Overview. We'll go over it as a class in half an hour. If you forgot to clock in, make sure to send me a time card correction now so I can fix it."

Not a second later, the sound of crushed rocks ripped through the room. The force of the shockwave sent Toushirou into the opposite wall. He was covered in brick dust, it tasted like ash.

Toushirou became livid.

He grew a webbed crown and serrated teeth from his head. His fingers and toes lengthened and tapered off, crystalline scales sprout from his pores. His tailbone grew like a new spine into a thick tail like a lizard's.

He snarled at the two wretched ghouls. They fucking stank. It made his sinuses buzz from the irritant. His claws itched to fucking gut them.

He lunged with an open hand wound back to take out its head. His claws tore through the ghoul's side. He spun and slammed his heel into the gut of the other ghoul. Alas, the severe internal damage to both monsters unfazed them.

"Stubborn cunts!" Toushirou bellowed. He kicked one of them square in the ribs an he used it as a springboard to kick its partner with his razor-sharp toes.

He was pushed off his perch. His chest heaved like he was hyperventilating. Toushirou with his ancient tongues struggled to articulate something that described the feeling. Mechanically, he pushed himself up, and he slipped in a pool of oil. His blood.

The ghouls descended. He shrieked and flailed.

Toushirou would not let himself die at the hands of some fucking byproduct.

His bloodied palms slapped against his chest. From his back grew wings, and with a single thrust he launched himself into the air.

---

The train stopped every-fucking-where in the UK, and when Karin, Ichigo, and Rukia realized that, they collectively agreed to take a nap. Karin had trouble sleeping, however.

Rukia was a petite woman who met them at the station. Her and Ichigo were good friends. Strangely enough, Karin was never told about Rukia, but Ichigo was absent-minded and forgot about a lot of things, especially things which kept them in the loop.

Like the one time he and some friends he had in high school were exploring a storm drain when it suddenly flooded. Ichigo was pummeled by debris and forgot to tell his family about it. Subsequently, he constantly forgot to change his bandages, and about a month and a half after the flood when Karin realized he was injured, she helped redress his wounds and happened upon an exponentially worse wound. Of course, he chalked up the pain to bruising. Karin's brother was a dumbass.

As tired as Karin was, she was nervous to meet Kisuke Urahara. She replayed her earlier conversation with Rukia once again.

"Rukia, are you from Seireitei?" Karin asked as they were led into a private carriage.

"Of course I am. You won't find any other covens where we're going. Our leader doesn't tolerate the division of power. Yamamoto's power is absolute, and he's become more iron-fisted with this ghoul infestation."

"Infestation?"

"I know it's getting bad back in Karakura, but in London, I can't go anywhere outside of an armored, insulated car. The ghouls are so great in number that they swarm upon catching our scent."

"And we have to go there in order to meet Urahara?" Karin asked.

"Yes. Although, I'm not sure why he needs you, Karin," Rukia replied.

"He asked for the strongest of us. Karin is in heat," Ichigo said.

"Oh, that explains the smell, at least," Rukia replied. Karin wasn't one to be ashamed over her base needs, but she wished Ichigo wasn't so open about her maturation. It felt like there was a revolving door into her sex life. For someone like Karin, who preferred all facets of her life neatly compartmentalized, the overlap was absolute hell.

Ichigo quickly changed the subject. "Any guesses why Urahara wants the strongest of us?"

"Honestly? Sacrifice," Rukia postulated. Karin never came into contact with a full-blooded demon in the past, and especially not when she needed something from them. Uryuu told her how demons adored bloodshed and debt though. They loved it even more than a starved vampire loved blood.

"Cheerful today, aren't you?" Ichigo mumbled.

"You asked."

"I really hope they haven't asked for the strongest to send on a mission or some shit. Those ghouls are getting nastier. I don't want to get caught up in that alone," Karin confessed. She was rarely scared, never for herself, but Karin feared the unknown above all else.

Like when her mother passed away. Karin vividly remembered Masaki's funeral, where she refused to cry because if she started, she wasn't sure she could stop. Her father obsessed over the bills for awhile, and because of that, Karin lost a lot of sleep over the thought of homelessness, and then her grades dropped. She was so scared to unbottle her fear that the only way she kept from bursting like a hot dog over an open flame was to hurt hersel. There was still a scar on her stomach.

Rukia reached between them and held her hands like her big sister Yuzu did. "You won't be alone," Rukia assured Karin, "I promise."

Karin, unsure how to respond to sincere and earnest affection, changed the subject. "So who is this Urahara guy?"

"He's a demon exiled from the Seireitei coven. He's largely hailed as a genius though, so we had no choice but to reach out to him about the ghoul infestation. Here we are now," Rukia explained.

"How bad is it in London, then?" Karin asked.

"Martial Law is being discussed by Parliament."

"You've gotta be shitting me.... It's gotten that bad already?" Ichigo said. "Oh god, I thought we had it bad."

"It's torture, honestly. I haven't been able to go to work since I almost always end up getting ambushed whenever I leave my flat. If I don't apply medicated lotion, which I happen to be allergic to, I can't even go outside because they catch my scent." Rukia pulled up her sleeve and showed her bright red hives. Karin swallowed a thick lump in her throat.

"Jesus Christ," Ichigo said. "Rukia, why didn't you tell me? We have fae in our coven. They'll certainly have something for you to alleviate some pain."

"I consulted one of our own fae, Juushirou Ukitake. Even with undiluted blood, he couldn't help me. Our witches allied with our coven can't even help."

"Look, let me talk to Orihime. She has considerable healing powers. We'll see what we can do for you."

"This is sweet and all," Karin said, "but how're we gonna meet up with this Urahara guy?"

"There will be an armored truck for us at the station," Rukia said. "The driver knows where to take us."

"This isn't sketchy or anything…" Karin grumbled.

Four and a half hours after that, Karin was still nervous like the conversation was fresh. When they pulled to a stop in London, and Karin saw a windowless van outside her window, she felt sick.

---

Tessai Tsukabishi and Kisuke Urahara were in the kitchen when Toushirou Hitsugaya crashed through the ceiling onto Tessai.

"Fuck," Kisuke cursed. Tessai very coolly laid Toushirou on his back. The boy's lips were an unearthly green from hypovolemia. "Get the kids. Let them know we'll be having guests. Remind them to use the incense while they're waiting," he said. "I'll fix this kid up in the meantime."

"Alright, dear, holler if you need anything."

Kisuke opened his shirt. His insides crawled towards Toushirou.

---

Karin's head collided with the truck's interior and she cursed at the top of her lungs. "Careful up there! You're gonna bash my fucking brains in!"

"Karin… calm down," Ichigo told her. She spun towards him, her nostrils flared, and he looked away.

"That's what I fucking thought," she grumbled.

"We shouldn't be much longer," Rukia assured them.

Sure enough, the truck came to a stop, and the engine was killed. Karin, Rukia, and Ichigo happily crawled out of the back of the truck. A chill went down Karin’s spine. A reanimated corpse certainly explained the haphazard driving. If Kisuke Urahara wasn't above reanimation, though, what did he have in mind for her?

"This way," Rukia said. They entered through the back door of a green, two-story house, closed off with a warped wooden fence even taller than her brother. Someone the smell of mosquito repellent permeated from the very ground itself.

They followed Rukia down a bare concrete staircase to a dimly-lit, half-finished basement. There were six other people crammed together around a short poker table and covered in a fog of incense.

"Welcome. I'm glad you could make it," said a young woman, around Karin's age, with dark hair and ice-blue eyes. "My name is Ururu Tsumugiya. I'm one of Kisuke's children. He had a last minute patient come in so he had to take care of that first. He should be done shortly, however. In the meantime, have a seat."

Rukia pulled up a chair, but Ichigo and Karin shared a look that told them both the other one was more comfortable standing.

"No offense, but the tension is thick as hell here," Ichigo announced.

"That's because Toushirou Hitsugaya was attacked by ghouls this morning at his place of employment," said a youthful woman, with blond hair and rows of jagged teeth. "He's here now. Kisuke Urahara is patching him up."

Ichigo and Rukia became visibly disturbed. "Tier… this can't be true," Rukia said. "What happened?"

"That's all we know so far," Tier said.

"If you ask me, if he kicks the bucket, it's his own fault for not being able to defend himself," said a giant, black-haired man.

"Karin… these are Genryuusai Yamamoto, Kenpachi Zaraki, Yachiru Kusajishi, Ururu, Tier Harribel, and Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez," Rukia quickly explained to Karin. "This can't be true, though. Hitsugaya is one of our strongest entities! He couldn't have been overpowered by ghouls."

"He's not going to die," Tier said coolly, "But it's the truth."

"We're in quite a dire situation," Genryuusai said. He was certainly as intense as Rukia made him out to be. Even when he lamented, Karin felt like he was angry with her specifically. She decided she didn't like Genryuusai Yamamoto. Karin figured he was under a lot of stress, but he was also inconsiderate enough to not reign in his malevolence.

"Is this really your strongest, Ichigo? I'm surprised," Kenpachi Zaraki said. "I was under the impression you were the strongest."

"She's in heat," Ichigo said.

"Hey, I am right here, people. Instead of bringing it up to my brother, bring it up to me," Karin snapped.

"She's right," Tier said with a nasty glare aimed at Kenpachi, "if you have questions concerning Karin, ask her." He uncomfortably shifted in his seat.

"I'm sure she'd be much more comfortable if you stopped bringing up her maturation, Ichigo."

Karin, and most the other table, leapt to action at the sudden intrusion. Ururu was suddenly in front of them. The hollow barrel of a gun obscured Karin's vision.

"Alright, everyone calm down. I didn't mean to startle everyone…" Kisuke said. Slowly, weapons were lowered.

"These are certainly trying times, if every single one of you are on edge," Kisuke said as he took a seat. "I'm glad to announce I've found a way to eradicate this problem, however."

"And how is that?" Genryuusai asked.

"If you let him speak, he would tell you," Tier quipped.

"This… isn't going to be to your liking. Tier, Kenpachi, and Karin. You three are the strongest from your current covens. We are going to combine your powers, essentially."

"That's it?" Kenpachi asked.

"Well… no. This is an extremely experimental procedure, so I have no idea how it works to begin with, and I have no idea how the three of you will come out."

"These extreme measures for… for a ghoul infestation?" Ichigo exclaimed. "Absolutely not! I'm not letting my sister go through this thing without knowing what the hell she's gonna come out like."

"There's more to this infestation than he's letting on," Yamamoto announced.

Kisuke interlaced his fingers and laid his chin on them. "Unfortunately…. This hasn't been proven yet, but I believe there is a certain individual within our ranks responsible for the increased ghoul activity."

"You mean someone had begun puppeteering them?" Rukia said.

"Aye."

"Well, who is it?" Yamamoto spat.

"I'm not sure…. It could be Sousuke Aizen, Mayuri Kurotsuchi, and Shuutara Senjumaru. They are the only individuals with the means to achieve this caliber of invasion. I have no clues to which one it might be. But all of them are shrewd and powerful. We need extra firepower to take down the villainous one."

And if they didn't, they would all be attacked, one by one, until they were all annihilated.

"I'm in," Karin said. "I don't care what you think, Ichigo. We have to do this."

Ichigo stood stiller than a statue, stunned by Karin's resolution. It hurt her to see him that way. As much as Karin loved her family, there were problems bigger than them to begin with.

Tier sighed. "I suppose I'm obligated to protect my people, as well."

"I'm just down for a good fight," Kenpachi said.

"Then let's get the three of you ready."

---

Momo crashed into Nemu's family room. Mayuri Kurotsuchi was instantly neutralized by a ball of fire. It wasn't enough to kill him. All Momo wanted was to question Nemu why she apologized right before Toushirou blew up.

For the time being, at least.

Nemu cowered beneath a desk as Momo stormed over. Normally, the sight would have made Momo's heart quiver, because she knew what that kind of terror felt like, the icy terror of angry loved ones who you adored with every bit of soul. But family didn't murder their loved ones. Momo was no saint in that department, but she hadn't killed anyone knowing their innocence.

"What the fuck do you know about my brother?" Momo bellowed as she grabbed Nemu and lifted her into the air. "If I don't think you're being honest, I'll hurt you."

"I'm sorry," Nemu wept. "I tried talking him out of it. I know how much Toushirou means to you, but Mayuri refused to listen to me. He said Toushirou is too much of a threat."

"For what?"

"He wants to take over London, and then Europe from there. He's making ghouls for an army. He says making the strongest of the Seireitei into ghouls will increase his manpower several fold."

"You're lying!" Momo snapped. "Demons cannot be made into ghouls. They're a mindless byproduct of our feeding on humans."

"He's a genius. He found a way to splice DNA or something. I got so scared I couldn't hear anymore." Nemu attempted to pry Momo's hand off her neck. "You know what it's like. You know he'll kill me if I try to run away."

"So you fucking killed my family?" In her fit, Momo threw Nemu across the room. She readied a ball of fire. "You never told us a thing. You know Izuru and I would have done anything for you! But you never said anything."

"I'm sorry," Nemu cried. "I didn't want him to hurt me."

Momo faltered. She understood, better than anyone else. She understood, because Sousuke was the same.

"I hate myself for siccing ghouls on Toushirou, but I didn't have any other choice." Nemu stood and hugged Momo. "I love you so much, Momo. I didn't know what to do."

Momo picked Nemu up. She tenderly held her. "I forgive you," she said. "Let's get you out of here, honey. We'll get you help, okay?"

Suddenly, Momo's head exploded with a monumental headache. Blood flowed down their faces. The two toppled to the floor, where Momo saw Mayuri loom over them.

"Get up, Nemu," he ordered, "that's not going to keep her down long."

Nemu stood. Momo may as well have cried with Nemu as they dragged her down a flight of stairs. Momo knew she was bound to be turned into a ghoul like Toushirou, so she wailed, despite how her ears rang.

"Help me," she pleaded. Nemu only cried and apologized between her hyperventilations.

"Help me," Momo pleaded, as they threw her battered body onto a steel gurney. "Please, help me."

Nemu escaped to a chair by the door. Momo's head lolled to the side to watch Mayuri flick a hypodermic needle with his freakish manicure. Inside, a green mass, green like watered grass, swam. Momo could only beg to be let go as he approached with that awful serum.

When he stuck Momo's arm, her entire world crashed around her for the second time in her life.

Momo was murdered and her body enslaved by a sick motherfucker. First her soul, then her body followed. She hoped death would be total that time around as her arm rot at the injection site.

"Come, Nemu, we have other work that needs to be done," Mayuri said. Momo was left with a heavy sense of dread.

And anger. Again, Momo was betrayed by someone who was supposed to love her, it made her a fool, but she was tired of her compassion misused by cruel, selfish bastards.

"Burn," she growled. They all could burn for all she cared.

"Burn." She gushed fire, like a geyer.

"Burn." Her flames touched the plaster ceiling and blackened golf ball sized spots.

"Burn."

Fire, white from rage, burst out of her body, whirled around the room like a typhoon, and blew apart Mayuri's house. Momo pushed rubble off her body. She stung from head to toe from her burns. Nonetheless, the cops were on their way. She had to go.

---

"Karin-chan?"

Masaki sat in front of Karin. In the mirror behind her mother, Karin saw herself as a child again, with short hair mussed from her baseball cap and a band-aid on her cheek and weird, gangly limbs and her adult fangs too big in her mouth.

"Are you okay, my dear?" Masaki asked.

Karin wanted to tell Masaki she died more than a decade ago. But it was like the day before her mother's death. Karin wanted to throw herself into her mother's arms and never let go.

"I'm okay," Karin said. The mirror and the walls bled kanji characters. Kill her, it read.

Karin's heart sank in her stomach.

"I'm gonna take a bath," Karin said.

"Leave the door unlocked," Masaki told her.

Karin dashed upstairs and turned on the bath water. She cursed quietly. What the hell was happening? Where the hell was she, if she was somewhere which demanded her mother's murder?

Was it part of Kisuke's ritual? If so, what the hell was she supposed to do? Was she supposed to kill her mother, or find another way to defeat her and abide by a secret moral of the quest?

Either way, Karin was nauseated. Obviously she wasn't a stranger to murder. She killed many ghouls, had some accidents when she was immature. It was different when it was someone close to her.

The stairs creaked. The back of Karin's neck bristled like an animal alerted to danger. She locked the bathroom door.

How the hell was she supposed to get out of there?

The walls bled murder again. The bathroom door rattled violently. "Karin-chan," it boomed with a perverted rendition of her mother's voice, "I told you not to lock the door! Open up this second!" Karin dug through the vanity. Whoever was on the other side of that door wasn't Karin's mother. Masaki passed away years ago. The Masaki beyond the door was only a nightmare.

Karin popped out the razor blades from one of the fresh razors. She fit them between the fingers of her right hand. Sweat beaded down her neck and stained her shirt.

Gingerly, she reached out to unlock the door, when it splintered. She screamed and backpedalled, only to be pounced on. Blearily, she saw Masaki's hair curtain her from the light above. Drool, foul to the nose, fell on her cheek, and despite the water in her eyes, she made out jagged laniary.

Karin slapped the beast. It reared back thanks to the cut she gave it. Karin rushed past it for the kitchen. She dropped the razors in the sink and picked up their largest knife from its seat in the knife block. The creature topped down the stairs with elongated limbs. Karin saw, with her eyes clear of wood, she doled significant damage to its face.Karin readied her knife as it charged. When it leapt into the air to tackle Karin, it fell onto the knife.

Karin let the beast down. Although winded, Karin cried fresh. Her mother's hair was beautiful.

She tossed the knife into the sink, wiped her hands on her pants, and exited through the front door.

---

Karin popped out of the membrane she floated in. She hoisted herself up, rolled her shoulders, squeezed out the excess fluid in her hair, and sighed.

She felt different. Hungrier.

Karin stumbled through the surreal landscape. Ichigo waited by the door. He wrapped her in a pink shroud.

“I’m so hungry,” Karin mumbled.

“Okay, let’s get you something to eat. Come with me. Let’s get you washed off and something in your stomach.”

Karin’s body felt ill fit. Karin scrubbed herself with all kinds of suds and soaps and perfumes but the feeling didn’t fade.

She stepped out, pressed a towel against her hair, and wrapped it around her torso. Ichigo was outside with sweats, boxers, and a sports bra. She dressed, and when Karin returned outside, he wrapped her waist in a gait belt.

“Kisuke says vertigo will be an issue until you eat. Otherwise, are you okay?” Ichigo asked.

“Yes,” Karin whispered.

“What was it like in there?”

"I don't want to talk about it."

“You had to be the worst of the worst, didn’t you?”

Karin nodded. Ichigo's eyes were straight ahead. He looked sad, and it didn't evoke the sympathy it did before.

“Come on, let’s get you some food.” Ichigo guided her by her gait belt. She did stumble once on their way to the kitchen up a flight of stairs, but otherwise, the trip wasn't anything noteworthy.

She was sat at the island counter in a dim, windowless kitchen. Ururu, Kisuke's daughter, entered a moment later.

"I was hoping you would be the one to make it out. God knows that derelict Kenpachi wouldn't have been very useful."

"I wouldn't say that. I can still feel him in me, his bloodlust," Karin said before Ichigo tossed her a disposable blood package. "He may not be the most cooperative to you, but he'll prove essential in the future."

Tier was quite rational and analytic. She was kind enough to have shared her experience with Karin.

"I've been wondering how exactly these ghouls are increasing in number so quickly. I can't think of any current events that would lead to such a flux of byproducts," Ururu said.

"Geez… you're right. Sousuke Aizen's experiments are almost all dead now. There hasn't been anyone capable of such destruction gone AWOL either," Ichigo chimed.

"Yet," Karin said. "I'm sure we have a mole in our ranks."

"Who do you think it is?" Ururu asked.

"I don't know. All I know is someone knew to sic a ghoul on Toushirou, and they knew exactly where to sic them. He smelled like he took great measures to blend in with humanity. He couldn't have been caught by surprise. And who else would know when and where are ride would come pick us up?"

"Holy shit," Ichigo cursed. "Does your dad know about this?"

"I'm sure he's figured it out."

"So he's using us to find evidence so he doesn't make claims that Yamamoto is gonna say are outlandish."

"That's where my money is, and whoever it is, Urahara knows we'll need something like you, Karin, to stop them," Ururu replied. Her phone vibrated in her shirt pocket. "Just a minute. Urahara and Company, this is Ururu."

Ururu's eyes widened. "Bring Momo here. We'll operate immediately. Thanks, Shuuhei." Ururu clapped her phone shut. "I have to prep the operating room. Looks like we have an unusual situation come up."

"Best of luck," Karin said.

---

Momo was not a happy fucking camper, especially when her body still regenerated. Her favorite fucking coat altogether evaporated too.

All she fucking wanted was to use someone's phone for two seconds to call Izuru.

"Drop your phone. If I have to tell you one more time, I'm gonna fucking burn you," she snarled.

It was a child. They cried like Nemu cried, like a scared kid. Momo had time for guilt after she killed Mayuri.

"Drop. Your phone. I will count to three. I will kill you if I don't have your phone."

The kid tried to run. She pounced and burnt hair filled her nostrils as she bent to pick up their fucking phone. Dumbass kid, she grumbled.

"Baby, I'm really fucked up. I blew myself to shit."

"Momo, oh my God you're alive! Where are you?"

"I don't know," she replied.

"Stay put, baby, we're looking for you. Keep an eye out of Shuuhei's dogs, okay?"

"Izuru, I'm really fucked up."

"Look, we found Toushirou. He's being treated by Urahara. We'll take you there to get fixed up, okay? Just hang in there. Talk to me."

"I didn't mean to worry you." Momo's legs gave out on the grass. "I just got so mad. Nemu sent me a text apologizing right after I heard Toushirou got blown the fuck up." She wept. "Izuru, her and Mayuri are behind the ghoul attacks. He spliced DNA or something. I think he tried to turn me into one. I would've been real fucked if I didn't blow up.”

"You did good, baby. You did so good. Just hang in there. You're gonna be okay. Baby, tell me about your day at work."

"She was crying when he stuck me, you know, with that stupid ghoul DNA. She doesn't know what else to do. Don't be mad with her." Momo's regeneration couldn't keep up. She would expire soon, so she had to make sure Izuru knew everything that happened. "Tell her we still love her."

"No, you have to tell her yourself. Stay awake for us, baby. Tell me about work."

Momo's face was licked by a dog. She stared into it's eight, sweet, soulful eyes. "The only good men are dogs. I missed you, Venom."

"Venom is there? Venom, take her to Kisuke Urahara! Flatworm, feed her a piece of you!"

Flatworm was a Labradoodle-flatworm-dog with the ability of high speed regeneration. If part of its tongue was eaten, the consumer would shave death off for a good hour, and Venom, a rottweiler-spider-shaped dog, coughed up silk and wrapped Momo in it upon Shuuhei's command. It was cool and soft. Momo hummed peacefully and let the darkness of sleep take her.

Momo gratefully swallowed a piece of Flatworm's tongue. She would live for another day.

Izuru and Shuuhei rolled her onto a makeshift gurney they threw together with a canvas drop and a dolly. Izuru held her hand in the back, pleaded with her to stay conscious a minute more. When Momo was rolled out of the truck, they were grey shapes that took her inside and put her beneath a bright light.

Yuzu choked. She futilely attempted to pry her attacker off.

"How cute. You're very cute, Yuzu Kurosaki. Even when you smell like fish, you’re cute."

Addie's body rest upon the stained and rank sheets of her bed. Yuzu couldn't bear to look at the carnage. Not then, not ever. It was as futile as her escape, though. The image was burned into her brain.

"Don't worry, cute little Yuzu. You won't be in pain for much longer."

He brandished a thick syringe. She kicked her legs. As if she could avoid her fate, a cynical part of her thought. Her diluted vampire blood left her defenseless. When it plunged into her neck, she went limp.

"It'll be over soon," he promised her.

It was euphoric and nightmarish. Her arms and her legs went numb, her vision tunneled.

Yuzu realized she was dying.

"I know it's scary, but you can now serve a greater purpose." Her mystery attacker told her as he pet her hair.

Yuzu looked to the young woman who stood silently in the corner. She silently begged to be helped.

The young woman didn't even flinch. She only whispered to herself.

"Nemu, pick her up and let's go," her captor said after he shoved a bag over her head. "We've got things to do."

#bleach #hitsukarin #karin kurosaki #toshiro hitsugaya #momo hinamori #ichigo kurosaki #rukia kuchiki #back-in-a-bit

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irisflowerarts · 7 years ago

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When his heart is blanketed by darkness, it emerges. (Anti Sora fanfic)

“Eeeergh!!!!” Sora growled through his teeth, his bloody body rolling across the Snow White floors of castle oblivion, his tan skin beginning to burn with friction leaving marks all over once only bloodied body, now becoming burned. His keyblade skidding away from him, the metal screeching, sparks ravenously fleeing from it, stopping on the other side of the room near Iris’s feet. She looked over at it, her bright sapphire eyes widening as she glanced at the key blade then back at Sora, her heart beginning to beat faster and faster, wretched in fear for everyone: Donald, Goofy, Sora, and her brother, Zero.

Donald and Goofy’s bodies were on the cold hard ground, their forms beaten with cuts, blood oozing from them and dripping onto the floor staining its whiteness with red. Iris remembered the horror she felt when she watched them fall to the ground.

The repeated clashes of metal together got her attention, bringing her eyes over to her brother Zero who was in a heated rally with Marluxia, their hair flowing vigorously, teeth clenched and eyes squinted, their orbs flaring with hatred. Meanwhile, Sora, while hissing, got himself off the ground. “I must say, Compared to Sora, you have more of strength, more power, and could easily protect the ones you care about.” Marluxia said in his deep voice, it laced with taunting

“Shut the hell up!! I don’t want to hear anything coming from you!!” Zero growled, swinging his keyblade faster, and much harder at Marluxia who dodged easily.

“You shouldn’t throw all of your strength in one attack.” Marluxia taunted, effortlessly swinging his scythe, jabbing Zero in the side who gritted his teeth in an attempt to not cry out in pain, Marluxia swiped Zero up and threw him to the ground, blood decorating his once pink scythe,

“Zero!!!” Iris cried, feeling a few tears prick at her eyes, seeing her brother down on the ground, bleeding intensely from his side, however, a dark and cruel energy laced his blood, almost like it was making Zero… poisonous. Ravenous…

Sora gritted his teeth, hissing as he forced himself to stand up again, blood oozing out of his wounds as he did, glaring at Marluxia. Marluxia walked closer to Zero, intrigued by this energy that coated Zero. “Get away from Zero!” Sora suddenly growled, glaring immensely at Marluxia, his eyes holding a monstrous storm within them.

]Marluxia became interested in the storm that thrived ravenously through Sora’s eyes, and walked towards him. “Are you angry about something Sora?” Marluxia asked as he came closer and closer to Sora, who didn’t respond.

Iris stared at the keyblade that was beside her, the keyblades blade shimmered, reflecting her face, the way her hair was draping her face, her scared yet worried expression. She felt a strange aura hug around her form… What was this? She didn’t know. She gently went on her knees, and picked up the keyblade by the handle, and stood up again. She looked at the keyblade that was in her hands, then glanced up seeing Sora being thrown to a wall, his cries being echoed throughout the room.

“this could’ve been avoided.” Marluxia said, raising his scythe. “But, i’ll still be getting something out of it.” Sora looked up at Marluxia with wide eyes,he tried to do something to get Marluxia away from him, but his body was so beaten, it was too exhausted.

Zero sat up, holding his bleeding side that oozed much blood. He wasn’t surprised about the energy that encased him, either he wasn’t aware of it or maybe he didn’t care.

“AAGHH!!!!!!” Marluxia’s scream suddenly filled the room the sound of a weapon collapsing on the ground echoed throughout the room, Sora immediately opened his sky blue eyes, greeted to the sight of Marluxia going on his knees, and behind him, Iris holding the keyblade! Zero had slightly wide eyes but smirked. He did have worry for Iris, but he was hiding it.

Iris blinked, then relaxed her hold on the keyblade, her eyes widening slightly as she stared at the keyblade in wonder. Did she just… attacked Marluxia? Her expression relaxed, a determined expression appearing all her pale and cute features. She went into a battle stance.

Marluxia turned his head, trying to glare at her as best as he could, his form wrecking with deep heavy breaths. “Lucky shot… I didn’t know we had THREE keyblade wielders here… I thought you were just as pathetic and useless as the other nobodies..” Iris flinched a bit, but remained in her battle stance. Sora however.. felt a unholy rage towards Marluxia.. something within him wanted to jump out and tear into him. Sora couldn’t believe what he was feeling, he brought a hand over to his heart looking down at in shock.

“Very well Then.. let’s see how long you last..” Marluxia said, collecting his scythe, then disappearing into many velvet pink petals. Iris looked around frantically, before she calmed herself, fluttering her eyes closed and remembered Marluxia’s pattern. He always appeared Left, Then behind, Then right, then left again. He appeared in one of those spots, three seconds after he teleports.

‘1….2...3..’ Iris counted in her mind, turning to her left and swinging her keyblade, it clashing against Marluxia’s strong, heavy, blood stained, scythe. She flinched at how heavy it was, holding the two ends of the keyblade trying to push Marluxia off. But… the scythe was so heavy! And Iris didn’t have the strength to combat it any longer, she could feel her arms starting to get sore… To not get striked, she quickly jumped far back, the tip of Marluxia’s scythe digging into the floor getting stuck.

Zero tried to get himself up so he could join, but he was bleeding to much. Fortunately, Donald and Goofy had begun gaining consciousness, starting to lift themselves off the ground and gain insight of the current situation.

“Donald! Goofy!” Sora cried out happily, relieved that they were okay.

Iris took the chance of the scythe being stuck in the ground by charging up to Marluxia and throwing a strike at him, forcing him away from his weapon and having to deal with her without a weapon. Zero smirked at Iris’s smartness to take this chance to damage Marluxia and not let him be able to collect his weapon again, instead of Sora who just… blindly charges into battle.

Marluxia growled, he was sick of this, fighting Iris. Velvet petals suddenly took his scythe out of the ground and handed it back to him where he quickly sliced the air, a blade of magic coming out of his scythe and towards Iris. She yelped, not being able to dodge it and was thrown back to the harsh wall of oblivion, the keyblade flying out of her hands, it clanking to the ground and disappearing into light. Iris’s breath was violently knocked out of her and she fell to the ground, trying to get up but couldn’t stand the stinging and monstrous pain she felt in her chest.

Iris did her best to get up, not knowing what to do but soon, she felt herself being grabbed by a force of magic, the grip so tight that Iris could hardly breath and brought her to the center of the room and dropped her in front of the room.

“I’m impressed. You memorized my battle pattern and used that to your advantage. A very powerful ability that will be useful.” He towered over Iris, looking menacing. “I’ll slice up your heart, and then use the pieces to recreate you to more of my liking.” Marluxia said, raising his scythe, his shadow seemingly 5 times larger than him and made him even more menacing.

Iris shut her eyes tightly, flinching and looking away and preparing for an immense amount of pain, her hair draping softly around her head as if it was hugging her.

“Don’t you fucking dare-!!!!” A dark being that was blanketed in shadows and oozed of heartlesses shot past Zero! All Zero caught was a glimpse of the beings sharp and long claws that it had. “Iris! Look out-” Zero cried out, believing the shadow being was going to steal Iris’s heart when it came to a stop in front of her fearful form and stopped the scythe from sticking her, a loud screeching clash of metal resounding through the room.

Hearing this clash of metal, Iris quickly blinked her shimmering sapphire eyes opened, and looked over seeing a shadowy form in front of her. She could see a form within in the shadows.. It had Dark spiky bluish blackish hair, it was taller than her by a few inches, had larger shoes then her, baggy shorts- A gasp escaped from her form as she looked around as to check if her guess was correct. Seeing that the once bright boy wasn’t in the room, it proved her guess was correct! Sora was the shadowy being in front of her! “Sora-” Iris wasn’t able to say a word as Sora took off and tackled Marluxia, trying to tear into Marluxia.

Zero, thanks to Donald, had his wound healed and he quickly ran over to Iris, picking her up. “AH?! Z-Zero?!” Iris cried out in questioning. “I don’t know what happened to Sora, and he’s dangerous right now… we’re getting out of here.” Zero said sternly, in a voice that hissed at Iris telling her to not rebel or complain. “B-but Sora!-” “IRIS.” Zero growled making Iris shut up as he began to run towards the door. “You two!” He put Iris down. “Help get this door opened!”

“But Sora! He needs our help!” Goofy said, when Marluxia’s bloody scream echoed throughout the room, freezing everyone in their spots. Everyone, fearfully turned their heads toward Sora and Marluxia and saw Sora’s montrously sharp clawed hand through Marluxia’s chest before Sora thrusted it back out of Marluxia and stood above him, Sora’s glowing eyes staring at Marluxia slightly menacingly.

Marluxia stared at the ceiling that seemed to be light itself, a frown on his features. “We have no hearts.. But us nobodies still just exist. I wonder.. What this would’ve been like.. If I had a heart.” He said, his form being raised up, a pink and blackish light emitting greatly through his body and then.. He exploded into petals, disappearing for good.

The room was now silent, everyone staring at Sora’s dark from. No one knew what to do, No one knew what to say, there was a loss of words in the atmosphere, as well as fear. Sora turned his head, looking over at the four, his glowing bright yellow eyes no longer holding a menacing look but one of.. Neutral. Or he looked like he was lost, and he didn’t know what he was going to do.

How was this going to be fixed?

#kingdom hearts #fanfic

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talesofzero · 8 years ago

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La Douleur Exquise - Ch. 9

Leijiverse Brothel AU; Chapter 9 - The Case of Beige

I’ve been on a bit of a break from Leijiverse writing, but here’s a Christmas present for @not-actually-harry-potter who is very sweet and deserves many things, including a chapter about anger Daiba.

There are too many Zeros in the Leijiverse, and I should stop pulling such obscure characters.

~5600 words

Captain needed a new rule - all clients needed to strip before all the sex stuff. The assholes kept trying to sneak stuff in under their clothes. Next time one of the guys tried to tell me they had nice clients and that not all clients were human-shaped dumpsters, I would remind them of the client who was stupid enough to not only rough-up Mamoru but also to stab me with a tiny pocket knife.

He should have brought a bigger knife if he wanted to do any real damage. I guess a bigger one wouldn’t have fit in his boot, but the small one fit into my side with all the force of a bug bite. His grip made for an easy target. Grabbing his wrist with one hand, I slammed the heel of the other into the back of his elbow. The resounding crunch of his bones sent him into a screaming fit. I didn’t even have to kick him down. He dropped to the floor on his own, cradling his arm.

Left his stupid, tiny knife in my side though, asshole. As soon as I yanked it out, blood spread out along my sleep shirt in a heated pool. “This had better wash out,” I growled as I tugged my wristband off and slapped it on the client’s arm instead. The band lit up in a bright flash of blue, turning the bastard turned into a twitchy mess. Captain made me use weird shit to put down clients. Beating them bloody would have worked just fine, but he insisted on tasing or drugs to knock them out. That just wasn’t satisfying enough. The bastards deserved a few good breaks and bruises.

But whatever. Captain’s orders.

With the client glitching out like a busted hologram on the floor, I stepped over him and up to Mamoru. The Kodais never had trouble when they were together, but being alone left them open to danger, and Mamoru worked to blink away a daze. Blood dripped from his lips. Judging by the way his cheek was starting to bruise, his teeth had cut into the inside. “Come on,” I said, taking him by the arm to lead him to his feet. “Let’s get you away from this bastard. I’ll get Captain to take care of him.”

Mamoru stumbled like the carpet was sliding out from under his feet. His hands landed on my shoulders for stability. “Can’t believe he hit my face,” he said as I dragged him toward the door. “I need that.”

“Next time you decide to take a dick of a client, tell him to hit you in the brain since you sure don’t need that.”

He whined like an abused dog, but judging by his cutesy pout, he was just fishing for sympathy. “Daiba, be nice to me. I just got beat up.”

“Yeah-yeah.” As I snapped the door shut, the wound in my side seemed to sink its fangs in deeper. I couldn’t hold back a wince.

Mamoru must not have been that dazed because he noticed. “What’s wrong?” But even before the question was all the way out of his mouth, his eyes found the blood that had crept its way toward the buttons of my shirt. The grip on my shoulder became a vise, spinning me to face him. “Is that your blood? Daiba!?”

“It’s fine,” I said with a shrug. When the panic didn’t leave his eyes, I held up the knife, still coated in my blood. “It’s such a small knife. It couldn’t do much.”

Fear iced over his expression, and though he opened his mouth, nothing came out at first. The claws in my shoulder dragged me toward the second flight of stairs. When he did speak, his voice was so thin that it sounded lost in a breeze. “We’re taking you to the infirmary.”

“We need to tell Captain about the client.”

“I will tell him! But we need for you to stop bleeding. Shit, Daiba, you got stabbed!”

“It’s whatever.”

Mamoru started chewing my ear off like he wasn’t the one who’d gotten his ass kicked in the first place. I was a bodyguard. Getting in fights and taking hits was my job, but all the guys yelled at me when I did what I was supposed to. Even before I started work at the brothel, it was like that.

They shouldn’t have cared. No one should have. Where I came from, useless street kids were as plentiful as the rats and heaps of trash littering the planet. All I did there was fight, and no one cared. Well, the guys whose asses I kicked might have cared, but I sure as hell didn’t.

I didn’t pay enough attention to remember which gang was which. They all flaunted dumb names like “White Tigers” or “Poison Fang,” but they were all the same. A bunch of weak dogs roaming in packs to look tougher. I let them be as long as they didn’t bother me. The burned husk of an apartment on Fifth Street was mine, and they knew that. As long as they kept away, I didn’t care enough to fight them.

Their heads were too damn big, though. Bastards always picked a fight when I went out into the streets. The worst bunch was some group named after a shark or fish or whatever. I got to know them too well for my liking. Because of that, I recognized the sounds of their voices in time to stop me from turning down one of my usual haunts.

“You’re clearly not from around here,” the one with the tattooed face said. “So I guess you don’t know the rules.”

“Yeah, just give us your stuff,” chimed in another voice I matched to a scrawny guy in my memories who’d been egging the rest on in our last brawl. That bastard was going to hurt. He’d been the one to throw in the pipe that busted my leg. The all-too-familiar sound of the hollow metal ringing and scraping along the concrete echoed out from the alley.

The third voice sent my blood boiling. “We don’t need any violence,” he said, the same one who’d swung that pipe into my leg like an ax to a tree. I’d been dragging around a limp for days, trying to avoid fights while it recovered. Being injured would slow me down, but I couldn’t pass up an opportunity to dish out some revenge.

“I wouldn’t recommend it,” someone I didn’t recognize added. “You would not come out unscathed. Walk away, and we can leave this.” He sounded older than any of the gang kids. Though his voice was calm, it held the dark edge of a threat.

Whatever. I’d kick his ass too if I had to.

He made for a helpful distraction as I launched myself around the corner. Tattoo turned just in time for my elbow to shatter his nose. When he hunched over to clutch at his face, my knee met his gut. For all his talk, he went down in a heap without a fight.

Scrawny came next. He was too tall for my elbows and knees to be much help. I couldn’t chance breaking my fingers on his ugly mug, so I punched him in the throat instead. People always try to curl in on themselves when they take a bad hit, try to hunker down and protect everything vital. That made my job easier because I was cursed to be short. Once Scrawny ducked his head enough to be in my range, I grabbed a fistful of his hair and smashed his face into the brick wall.

That left Pipe, who forced me to jump back as he aimed to crack my skull open. My right leg staggered under me, protesting my weight with nauseating flashes of pain. A strangled yelp tore up my throat, and Pipe’s eyes lit up with a sadistic recognition. “I remember you,” he laughed as his pipe swung back around and cracked into my leg again.

I had to hiss air between my teeth to keep from screaming. The pain burned so hot that the rest of my body seemed chilled. The deafening crack of a blaster cut through the air, and I found Pipe clutching his empty hand to his chest with a wince. His weapon clattered to the ground.

As the burnt smell of the gunshot tinged the air, the last man in the alley steadied his aim again and spoke in such a low voice that it could have been a growl. “Leave.”

I wasn’t going to fuck with anyone wielding a gun, but while the other bastards scurried off back to whatever pits they crawled out of, my first step brought the ground up to meet me. My leg roared with pain so overwhelming that my eyelids fluttered before I could yank them back open.

“There’s no way you’re moving on that,” the gunman said. The edge was gone from his voice, replaced with a flat drawl of reality. He sounded far too close for my liking. “Stay still.”

He hung over me, close enough that I could see the dark brown of his one eye even in the dim light from our moons. His arm clutched me around the shoulders, keeping me upright. He could fuck right off with all of that.

“Don’t touch me!” I sent a jab straight for his face, but the crushing grip of his hand caught mine.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said as I tried to yank my hand free. “You helped me, and I appreciate it.”

“I didn’t fight them to help you,” I snarled. Only when I let the tension out of my arm did he release his grip. “I just had some business with those assholes. If you came to this planet looking like that, you’re dumb enough that you deserve to get jumped.”

Gunman had clothes so nice I’d only seen them in pictures. It seemed too fancy, like a costume. “Maybe, but I could handle them,” he said. I wanted to tell him that a gun wouldn’t save him forever, but his hand pressed on my thigh where the damned pipe had just hit. He may not have put any pressure on the bruise. I couldn’t tell. Just the weight of his hand was enough to send my stomach rolling from the pain. Exhaustion hit me like a wall, my eyes rolling back.

“Damn,” he hissed. His voice was enough for me to grab onto to stay conscious, shaking away the dark edges on my vision. “That’s, uh, not good.”

“S’fine,” I said. “Get away from me.”

“My name is Harlock,” he said like I’d asked. “I employ a doctor. Let me take you to him.”

I may not have gone to school much, but I was not that stupid. Too many of the other guys on the streets went missing for me to trust some rich asshole with a gun. “Hell no!”

“Then let me contact your family-”

“Don’t have one.”

Silence bit at us for a breath. “Sorry,” he said. “I suppose I should have known. Listen, I understand why you wouldn’t want to trust me, but I came to this planet looking for someone to hire - a bodyguard. I know a number of skilled mercenaries work in this area, so that was my original intent, but why don’t you let me hire you instead? You seem plenty capable.”

“Thought you said you could handle yourself.” My words tinged with a slur. Sleep pulled at me like grasping hands reaching from the ground.

“You wouldn’t be guarding me. You’d be looking after my employees.”

“Who’re they? I don’t look after assholes.” I’d never looked after anyone but myself. Gangs weren’t for me. I couldn’t get along with anyone else, and Harlock didn’t know what he was talking about. Or he was lying. That seemed more likely.

“No,” he said. “You’ll be fighting the assholes.”

“I’ll consider it.” Considering time was a half-second, and that was enough to assure me Harlock was bad news. “No,” I decided.

“Let me get you to a doctor regardless.”

“I’m fine.” I would have been even better if he would have let go of me, actually.

Harlock heaved a sigh. “Look, I’m not a medical professional, and even I can tell that leg is broken.”

He was obviously no professional because my leg was not broken, just bruised. I would have noticed a break. “Really?” I drawled in disbelief. “And how are you so sure?”

“I can feel the bone sticking out of place”

“Bullshit!” When I placed my hand on my thigh, though, I could feel the way my skin had shifted in an uneven ridge beneath the fabric of my pants. “Well… It’ll heal eventually.” The pain didn’t seem like enough to be a break, so I guessed it could have been some knot instead. After all, I could still move my leg. As I pulled my knee inward, aiming to stand, the pain morphed into a tidal wave that dragged me under. My vision slipped to black, and I could hear Harlock barking something. None of it was clear enough to understand.

All I could make sense of was the pain until that blinked out too.

I woke in what must have been a hospital room. Too damn bright and white to be anything else. I had to squint to make out much of anything. The bed was the first I’d slept on in ages that didn’t jab me with metal springs. As my eyes adjusted, I spotted a man standing at my side. He wore a dark green uniform I didn’t recognize. His hair was so silky and neat that it looked more like a cat’s fur than hair. Brunet strands framed his face and dark brown eyes, which focused on the drip feed of some drug. The tube leading from the vial hooked to a needle port in the crook of my arm. My hand shot to it, ready to free myself from whatever he was using to drug me.

“Don’t,” he said, so sharp and sudden that I froze. His gaze had not left the clear liquid. “That’s just going to hurt. If you try to take it out, I’ll give you a bigger needle to replace it, so calm yourself. It’s just an antibiotic.”

Though I didn’t pull the needle free, I kept my hand on the port as I eyed him. “Who are you?”

“You are an idiot.” Still not looking at me, he gestured to the patch on his sleeve. The embroidered red x looked like the symbols on first aid kits I stole. That made him a walking first aid kit, I guessed.

“I’m not an idiot,” I snapped. “Doctors are supposed to wear white coats, so what are you?”

When his gaze did turn to me, the snobby irritation in his voice and expression did not change. “I am a medical sexaroid. Call me Zero if you must, though Doctor works as well. I am the one who fixed you, so you should be thankful.”

Thankful, my ass. I wasn’t staying anywhere with some fucked-up sex robot.

“I’ve set your broken leg,” he continued, “and I saw to your skull fracture. You must have had that for some time. I imagine the headaches were troublesome, and you must have been bleeding from your eyes, yes?”

That was enough to keep me put. “How’d you know?”

“Doc-tor,” he repeated with emphasis.

Though I held back some choice insults, I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. “Okay, how’d you know, Doctor?”

His expression remained dull as he breathed a slow sigh. “The brain damage must have been worse than I thought. It doesn’t matter. I fixed what I could. I also cleaned out the infection in your lungs, and I removed that disgusting lice infestation from your hair. When was the last time you even bathed? Actually, I don’t want to know.”

For a robot, he was a huge dick. I guessed the robotic laws didn’t apply to emotional harm, not that he looked like a robot. He could have just been lying to be an even bigger dick.

“The last thing that needs proper attention is the malnourishment,” he said, crossing his arms, “and that is a simple fix. Some food will be brought shortly.”

He didn’t move when I reached up and poked at his cheek. Though he did feel like skin, he was cold and stiff like a corpse. “You don’t look like a robot,” I said.

He batted my hand away as he spoke. “Android. Not a robot. It’s in the name - sexa-roid.”

“Yeah, I’m more worried about the sex part. What the fuck is up with that?”

“It’s a catch-all term. The original sexaroids were built with an obvious, carnal purpose in mind, but as we were further developed, our uses became varied. My creator didn’t like calling me a sexaroid, but technically I am one due to some overlapping mechanics. Trying to have sex with me is not recommended, though, and will result in removal of some non-vital parts.”

As he spoke, I worked my way into a proper sitting position despite whatever drugs were weighing me down. I felt no less confused when he finished. “Is it that people can’t have sex with you, or that you don’t want them to?” I asked.

“Yes. Now stop asking stupid questions or you’ll be getting your pills the other way.”

“What other way?”

His dim eyes blinked twice before he shook his head. “Nevermind. Your food is here.”

Before I could tell him he was malfunctioning, the door across the room swung inward. Another man, older looking than the sex robot doctor but still not that old, strode in focused on the tray of dishes in his hands. His brow knitted in concentration as he tried to keep whatever was on there from spilling. When he did look my way, his eyes brightened like an eager puppy’s. “So good to see you up,” he said. “I made you some food.”

He could have brought me anything, laced with poison or drugs or whatever, and I would have scarfed it down. My stomach seemed to be eating itself, turning into a gaping hole in my gut. I was always hungry.

What he set down across my lap was actually damn good, just about the best thing I’d ever eaten. It was some kind of potato soup, so warm it heated me from my chest to my fingers and toes. The man had to tell me not to eat it too fast because I all-but gagged myself on the spoon in my rush.

“I’m glad you like it,” he said with a smile. “I don’t get such compliments on my cooking often.”

I hadn’t said anything, too busy chewing on the spoon. He didn’t seem to mind.

“My name is Warrius Zero. I work here.”

My eyes narrowed as I looked back to the doctor. “Wasn’t your name Zero too? Is this some kind of cult?” And if Second Zero worked at the hospital, he sure didn’t dress for the part. He had the same sort of fancy costume that I’d seen on Harlock.

“If you must know, my creator named me after him,” the doctor said. “Now shut up and drink your water.”

Glaring at him out of the corner of my eye, I chugged the water and slammed the empty glass back down on the tray. Despite my attempt at defiance, he smirked.

“Would you mind giving us your name as well?” Second Zero asked, still with that kind smile.

“I don’t like to give my name out to weirdos in suspicious hospitals.” Or anyone else, honestly. No one needed my name. It wasn’t as though we were going to be pals.

“If you tell me your name, I’ll bring you more soup.”

“Daiba. Tadashi Daiba.”

He was good on his word, and as I ate two more bowls of soup, I found myself with more odd visitors. The hospital had a weird dress code because they all wore a rainbow of vests. First came the alien, who didn’t say anything but looked so starry-eyed as he clasped my hands that I couldn’t bring myself to dislike him. The guy called Dick lived up to his name, an annoying prick. He kept trying to ruffle my hair until I bit him. The brothers were fine, kind of weird with their constant arguing, but they didn’t try to touch me beyond a handshake.

My first non-guy visitor also didn’t wear a stupid vest. She dressed casually and appraised me with the same suspicion I gave her. “How old are you?” she asked.

Not that it was any of her business, but I set to counting back the winters, trying to recall how long it had been since my last proper birthday. My planet had about two cycles for every Earth one, so that was…

“Fourteen? Fifteen?” I looked up from my fingers. I didn’t have enough to help me count. “I don’t know.”

“Oh jeez.” Her head listed to the side, and her arms crossed. “Well, you’re not exactly what I asked for, but I’ve heard good things about your fighting ability. It’ll be nice to work with you once you’re back on your feet. I’m Kei, also a bodyguard.”

My spine shot straight. “I didn’t agree to that job! And I didn’t ask for anyone’s help, so I don’t owe any of you anything.” If they expected payment or servitude for fixing me up, they would be sorely disappointed.

Her smile turned into a smirk. “Too bad. You’re stuck with us now. With how rough you were when the captain brought you in, there’s no way the boys are going to let you go back to that planet. What did you even do to wind up like that?”

That wasn’t her business either, and I was not going to let her gloss over the more important topic. “What do you mean ‘back to that planet?’ Where the hell are we? I’m leaving! You can’t keep me here!”

“You’re on a satellite,” Harlock said as he slipped in like a shadow through the open door. “You have no money for transportation, so unless you have some other method of space traversal, you’d do well to make yourself comfortable for the time being.” He placed himself beside Kei, his expression stony in response to my glare. “Sorry for taking so long to come see you. You seem to be doing much better. I’m glad. Now before you try to attack me-”

I wasn’t just going to try. I was going to destroy him.

“-I’m going to once again offer you the position of bodyguard for Arcadia.”

“Arcadia? The whorehouse?” I’d heard whispers of it back home, a place notorious for being outside of the law’s reach. “Is this sex trafficking? What the fuck!?”

The doctor sighed as I tried to launch myself out of the bed to kick Harlock’s ass. I forgot about the cast on my leg. The awkward extra weight dragged me down, and my cheek smacked against the icy floor.

“You’d be a bodyguard for the sex workers, not one yourself,” Harlock said as Kei picked me up by the scruff of my hospital gown and tossed me back into bed. “You already met them, all of the prostitutes in my employment.”

The only people I’d met were all those guys, so they must have been the whores. While I didn’t know what a whore was supposed to look like, I had a feeling those guys weren’t typical. That also brought up some weird questions about those brothers that I wasn’t sure I wanted the answers to.

“Your job would be to subdue any clients who aim to bring harm to my employees,” Harlock continued. “I have strict rules of consent, and I don’t tolerate troublesome clients. They tend to be quite wealthy and think they can get away with whatever they’d like because of it. If you need to rough them up some to get the message across, that’s fine by me.”

If I’d been kidnapped just so I could fight for them, I wasn’t sure I could be mad about it. Fighting was all I was good at, all I knew how to do. I didn’t mind having to crack a few skulls in exchange for having all the lice gone. Damn things drove me crazy, so I would have killed a man if it meant being rid of them. Getting to wail on some affluent assholes was just a plus. “So I’d just get to beat up rich bastards?” I asked.

Harlock shrugged. “More or less.”

Damn, I would have done that for free.

“Okay, I’ll work here, but only if I get more food.”

“That was easy,” Kei muttered.

A smile tugged at Harlock’s lips. “Your meals will be covered along with your room. I’m happy to have you aboard, Daiba.”

“Great, so can I get more potato soup?”

That soup was the first meal anyone had made for me in years. Monono’s cooking was great, and I loved all the sweets Kei brought from far-off places for me to try, but nothing beat that soup. It was every warmth and comfort Arcadia had given me. Every time I wound up in the infirmary with that asshole doctor, Zero would make it for me. Even when he was half-asleep at 3 AM.

I’d lost some time to the drugs Doctor gave me for surgery, but when I woke, Mamoru was sitting on the cot beside mine as his brother berated him. The two of them both had bowls of soup in their hands, and Zero was dozing in a chair near the foot of my bed. When Doctor noticed me awake, he helped me ease into a sitting position. As he handed me my own bowl of soup, he said that Harlock had taken care of the stab-happy client.

That was all I knew about what happened to bad clients - Harlock “took care” of them. I got to throw out troublemakers, but the real sick bastards I just put down. After Harlock took over, I never saw them again, and that was fine by me.

Other than the dark stain of a bruise on his cheek, Mamoru looked alright. “It won’t happen again,” he was telling his brother. “I was just careless. I’ll be more careful.”

No, I was careless. I should have gotten to him faster, should have noticed the client was trouble at the beginning. If I’d been any slower, that knife could have done some real damage. I would not let that happen again.

“Daiba’s the one to be upset over,” Mamoru continued when the concern didn’t ease from Susumu’s face. “Go fret about him. Doc gave me an all clear, not even a concussion. There’s no need to worry.”

After adjusting the drip of whatever he was drugging me with this round, Doctor sighed and went over to Zero, who was two seconds from falling out of the chair. Doctor hooked his arm under Zero’s and pulled him to his feet, murmuring, “Let’s just get you to bed before there’s another injury, alright?”

Zero’s head lolled as he fought to hold onto some form of consciousness. “Hm? What? Where are we going? Is Daiba okay?”

Their voices echoed as they reached the hall. “Daiba is fine. He’s too stubborn to let a knife bother him. Now how does sleep sound?”

“Sleep is good. I love sleep. I love you.”

“Right, yes, I love you too.”

“Zero’s cute when he’s tired,” Mamoru said. “And he’s got the right idea. I should get back to my room before Doc wants to run any more tests. You should get some sleep too, Susumu. Your client is coming tomorrow.”

Susumu’s lips tightened to a thin line as he helped his brother to his feet. Whether he was upset about Mamoru’s condition, or the idea of his client, I wasn’t sure, but I hated that royal bastard. His smug face and sweeping, flashy mannerisms made me want to knock him out. Mamoru and Susumu almost never had troubles with clients when they were together. Weird as it was, I hoped the two of them could pair up again. I wanted that royal guy gone as soon as possible. As much as I hated him, though, I hoped he wouldn’t give me a reason to kick his ass.

Mamoru came up to my side and squeezed me in a bone-crushing hug until Susumu barked at him about my stitches. While I wanted to be angry at him too, I didn’t hate the hugs. The guys didn’t need to know it. I wasn’t going to say I wanted hugs or anything. I didn’t, really, but I wasn’t going to say no to one if the guys wanted to hug me.

Unless it was Dick because he could fuck off.

“Thanks, kid,” Mamoru said as he pulled away. “But next time don’t scare me like that, alright?”

“I’m fine,” I reminded him.

“I know, and I know it’s your job to look after us, but I’m still allowed to worry when you get hurt.”

When Susumu hugged me, he clung like static, pressed tight with his face buried in my shoulder. “Thank you for looking after my idiot brother,” he murmured. “I know this room can be cold. Do you need anything?”

He didn’t let go, still hanging on me, so I put my arms around him too. Unsure what else to do, I patted his back. “I wish I could go back to my room, but I know the doctor won’t let me,” I said.

“Yeah, he’s stubborn,” Susumu sighed, pulling back with a worn smile. “But don’t worry. We’ll take care of it.”

As they headed for the hall, Mamoru whispered, “We will?”

Susumu said something I couldn’t hear in return, but I could see him smiling. They didn’t turn off the lights when they left. The Doctor would if he felt like it.

Putting my bowl aside on the table, I eased myself back down despite the ache in my side. I swore it hurt more after the stitches, feeling like it might tear open again at any moment. Once I’d flopped onto my back, though, the pain fell away. Sleep came easy for the two seconds I was allowed to have it.

“Hey, Daiba.”

I cracked one eye open to find one staring back in return. Kneeling at my side, Captain forced a weak smile and started patting my hair. “Sorry to wake you, but I took care of him. He won’t come back.”

“Of course.” My words slurred in rebellion. “You always do, Captain.”

He never touched me except to drag me away from bad clients, so the patting confused me. The fear burning his eye was unnatural too, something he never let show. “I’ll be more careful in checking for weapons,” he breathed more than said. “I’m very sorry.”

Oh, guilt. That was it. Captain didn’t need to feel guilty for my sake. None of them did, yet it kept happening. I was just their shield, a thing to be used. They didn’t need to feel bad for a shield when it took a hit. If I broke, that was my own fault, not theirs. They’d done enough for me, taking me in and looking after my wounds, making me food, giving me affection in their own weird ways. In return, I would take a knife or a bullet. Anything for them. The only ones who’d ever cared about me.

“It’s fine,” I said. “It’s not the first time I’ve been stabbed.”

Captain winced. “You are a magnet for trouble, you know?” he sighed, standing. Some form of a kiss brushed against my forehead and bangs. “You did a good job, Daiba. Get some rest.”

He flicked the light off as he slipped out, and once again, I fell into a doze. And once again, someone dragged me out of it.

The bed shifted under the weight of heavy hands and knees. “Daiba, are you okay?” whispered a small voice, so sweet I swore I’d get a toothache just from hearing him. “Susumu said you got stabbed.” Looking like he might collapse and fall asleep against me at any moment, Tadashi sat at my side in his pink pajamas, lips drawn to a pout.

“I-I’m alright.” But my face was getting hot. He was close enough that sitting up would have knocked our heads together, not that I could sit up easily. “You can go back to bed.”

Tadashi nodded. “The Kodais said it’s cold in here, but don’t worry,” he said through a yawn. Tugging up the blankets, he settled himself under them and flopped his head down against my pillow. “I will help.”

Though he seemed to pass out in seconds, I could no longer grasp sleep. Our noses almost touched in the small space of the bed. Had either of us been any bigger, it wouldn’t have worked, but he was so small. My hand trembled as I reached beneath the sheets and took hold of his. He slept on without a twitch, yet I felt a burning in my chest. Like the potato soup but painful. Like wanting to cry, maybe.

I hadn’t cried in so long. I’d almost forgotten what it felt like, but he made me remember. He made me want to as I pressed myself closer to him and listened to his soft breathing. No one was allowed to get near him. He was too small, too fragile. No one but me.

#Captain Harlock #Space Pirate Captain Harlock #Daiba fic #Harlock fic #zero fic #diver fic #Mamoru K fic #Susumu fic #Kei Fic #I tried to combine your prompts friend so I hope you like it

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spnsimpleman · 8 years ago

Text

Cavanaugh Park

This is my One Shot for @iwantthedean ‘s SoCo summer challenge!!

My lyric prompt was “You always said Destiny would blow me away.” The whole song, Cavanaugh Park by Something Corporate, had a hand in inspiring this one shot.

Reader x Dean

Word Count: 4653

Warning: mentions/memories of attempted rape.

And this is where it all goes sideways. Yes, even for a hot shot like me. As I stood in the dark alley across the street and watched the candy coated idiot I’d been tailing all night slip behind her very nice apartment door, the thing I thought I was tracking had snuck up behind me.

Three fucking days in the strip club from hell very aptly named Hell’s Angels that held not only strippers as any type of demon or supernatural creature desired but also legit hell scape decor. Well, top two levels, at least, and depending on who you talked to, it wasn’t that hellish. Even in hell, they get all snobby.

That glitter storm wench that probably just skipped into her fancy ass kitchen and popped a bottle of wine was the only one with any connection to the two men and one woman who lost their shit and destroyed someone they cared about. But of course, that’s how a clever Siren would play it even if it didn’t know anyone was watching.

This one covered their tracks like a goddamn pro and poked me in the back with a small gun like I was some stupid hack on my first hunt.

“Well, fuck me.”

“Ooo, whatta mouth,” she purred in my ear, really laying it on thick. “I’d really like to see what you could do with it, sailor.”

You always said Destiny would blow me away, pops. I just never knew it would be so fucking literal. “That’s either the business end of a tiny gun or the end of your stiletto needs a little work, Destiny.”

Destiny, the terrible, too-innocent-and-prude-for-this-job stripper who dressed as a fallen angel complete with broken gray wings. Like I said, fuck me. Bravo, Fate, you nasty bitch. She’s probably cackling her ass off somewhere too.

The gun pressed harder into my back before the blade of a knife, my fucking bronze dagger to be precise, kissed my jugular. “Oh, honey,” she hummed and sniffed my neck. “All thorns and… mmm, aren’t you interesting?”

I didn’t really have a move at this point so I went for my old stand by, fake it til you make it. “Putting your friend on them to hide your scent? Poor Candy never saw it coming, did she? You’re a terrible friend and a bloody awful stripper. Anyone ever tell you that?”

“Better to have poor friends than none at all,” she giggled. She fucking giggled in my ear.

“Oh, fuck you.”

She sniffed my hair and exhaled with a sigh that held way too much arousal for my taste, “well, they didn’t, did they?” Her hand slid around my waist and tucked into the front of my jeans. She was checking for more weapons. Smart, damn it. I really hate the clever ones. “You are delicious. I love a good challenge.” The voice morphed on her last word, the stripper who’d been Candy’s innocent best friend forced to work to make ends meet was gone as the octave dropped and took on a distinctly male pitch. “Just a voice. Who knew a human could be so simple?” It whispered against the side of my neck with a voice from long ago.

It spun me around and I jabbed my fist into its wrist, knocking the dagger away. I grinned then had to clench down on every reaction to the fuzzy blur in front of me. It still had the gun and didn’t seem at all bothered by my removal of its second weapon.

“I could be your hero. I could be your everything.” That voice, I knew that voice.

I growled, “I am my own hero.”

“Not that night. I was.” I could hear the smile in the voice and it sickened me. It shouldn’t affect me so much, but I couldn’t stop the rage flowing back as the memory hit me hard.

Could Sirens do that? Pull forth the worst memory and that was how they boosted their victims urge to do what they wanted? But it didn’t make sense. Who knew where those boys were today.

The dark blur leaned in, “mmm, true. I guess we’ll just have to find some replacements. Surrogates can work just as well, at least I would make that sacrifice for you. Would you make the sacrifice for me?”

“Sacrifice?” I grit my teeth, “I don’t love them, they are nothing. That’s not your ballpark.” I kept my eyes open refusing to give a straight answer or block out the blur in front of me. I’d had that dream too many times and wasn’t willing to make it easier for it. I glared, not even glancing in the direction of the bronze dagger I would soon plunge in its chest. Hopefully, it would forget about it and keep all its attention on me.

The blur of a body pressed against me and sniffed from my chest all the way up the side of my face. I shivered and it pissed me off.

“There’s no one you love left, I make exceptions for special cases and honey, I love something a little different.”

The voice still fucked with me, how could it find that memory so easily? I hadn’t thought of that night in years. I hadn’t had the nightmare in weeks, if not months. A rough hand was on my face squeezing my cheeks trying to get me to open my mouth. So unlike the gentle hands that pulled me from the nightmare before it took another horrific turn.

The flash hit me hard, that night so long ago, two boys prying my legs open as the other held my arms above my head. I had screamed and fought like hell until two sucker punches smashed into my face. I could almost feel the blood vessels bursting, the pain blossoming around my eyes…

My jaw started to open and knocked me from the nightmare’s hold. I shoved away the images and kicked out hard. The siren’s grip slipped, the gun clattered across the asphalt as it stumbled back a step swinging its arms to balance. I gave it another swift kick square in its blurry chest. It crashed to the ground with a satisfying thud against the brick wall and I took off for the dagger.

But the memory wasn’t done with me yet, maybe the siren had a way of pulling it forward. It continued to play out in my head, words screaming from the guy that had pulled me from the pack of animals clawing at me. Go! RUN! GET OUT OF HERE!

The sounds of a fight behind me but I kept going, kept running no matter how many times I fell. I couldn’t see much through my swollen eyes but what was behind me could be so much worse. I still felt their rough hands on me, the stink of their breath, the slurring taunts echoing in my head no matter how far I stumbled…

No! I shook out of it. I didn’t run anymore.

The alleyway filtered back in, the nightmare cleared completely and I spotted the dagger only a foot to my left; I dove for it. I closed my hand around the handle I had made myself to fit like a glove as adrenaline rushed through my veins. I stood but the siren had caught up, shoving me into the brick wall. It grabbed my wrist and slammed it above my head but I wouldn’t let go. That dagger was mine. I wasn’t letting go.

I made myself a promise that night it wanted me to remember so damn bad, that I would never be overpowered again. If they had brawn, I had the smarts and I kicked the shit out of myself to heighten my brawn as well. There was always possibilities, I just had to find them. Outwit, outplay, outlast, or just straight up beat them with stubbornness. My pops called it determination, my uncle called it will power, but a rose by any other name and all that junk. Out-stubborn was kind of my forte.

Pride swelled in my chest when it stopped trying to break the dagger from my grip but that deflated quickly when I realized it didn’t need me to let go. The siren’s unidentifiable face was hovering over mine and the anger radiated off the only image I had of the guy that had saved me when I was sixteen. There was another promise I had made that night as I ran, that I would find him and thank him, but it’s impossible to thank a ghost. My promise morphed into being like him; when something’s wrong, don’t turn a blind eye, kick it in the ass.

It roughly grabbed my face and no matter how hard I grit my teeth, my jaw was slowly opening. No, no, no, NO! I struggled against it but its weight and position made it impossible to move. I glared, refusing to give up and become the one thing I had fought against my whole life.

It opened its blurry mouth and the pit that spit poison to control me was in there somewhere. I thrashed as much as I could but it wasn’t even close to any good. We both knew it and it infuriated me. Which gave me an idea.

I pulled my hand away from the wall with every ounce of that rage fueling me, each half an inch I gained messed with it. I grinned, “that’s right, bitch. Tell me you’re my hero again.”

“HEY!”

The weight shifted against me but it gripped my wrist tighter and slammed it back to the wall. “I’ll get to…” It’s blurry head turned and then it roared, “YOU!”

I stared at the man stalking toward us with a voice that held an air of familiarity. He stopped in the center of the alleyway where just enough of the street light landed on his face. A brief flash of confusion crossed his quite ruggedly handsome face as he studied the blur holding me. I caught a glimpse of a bronze dagger at his waist. A hunter. Fucking figures.

His hand dropped near his barely hidden dagger and he taunted, “if you were going for the Blob I think you got the wrong element there, sport.”

The blur vibrated, moving a step in the man’s direction before looking at me. It couldn’t make up its mind.

“Come and get it, shadow bitch!”

I flinched as it wrenched its grip away from my arm then raked its nails against my wrist. It roared and charged the other hunter. I cradled my wrists against my chest and stood there watching the action play out. Something about the hunter’s voice…

It lunged at the hunter and the scuffle was confusing. The blur and the man trading blows and remarks as it tried to spit its poison.

Go! RUN! GET OUT OF HERE!

The voice shouted and it took me a second to realize it was only in my head. I closed my eyes shaking the remnants of the memory and nightmare off with a mantra of my own making. I am Y/n, I am a fucking awesome hunter. I was a victim, but that never defined me just like my name or my mistakes don’t define me. I define me by every action, every decision, every damn time I scrape myself up off the floor and move the fuck on. I am a survivor, a fighter, and a goddamn badass with a blade!

I snapped my eyes open. Time to go to work. I pushed off the wall and assessed my best way in. The siren had changed, had shaped back into Destiny. Apparently, it considered the man as the room’s more dangerous occupant. Good. I liked to be underestimated.

It slammed the man into the wall and leaned in as I moved around behind it dipping the dagger into the blood filled pouch thankfully still attached to my belt.

“Oh, baby, are we gonna have some fun.”

I rushed the last few steps and plunged the knife into its back. It shrieked as it spun around. “Raincheck, bitch.” The anger I felt from the blurred image was painted all over Destiny’s face. “I guess you’re not the right Destiny after all.” I side kicked her into the wall and the point of the dagger popped through her chest. The siren finally dropped and I stepped back.

The man pushed off the wall and looked at me, “you’re a hunter?”

“Takes one to know one.” Wow, real smooth. I met his gaze and hopefully kept my inner thought to myself.

He studied my face and his brows furrowed. “Do I know you?”

“I don’t know you so, I guess not.”

He dropped his gaze and sighed as he rolled his shoulders. He surveyed the mess we had made in the alley but really who would notice?

“You wanna get a drink?”

I glanced down at the body of a woman flat on her face between us. My hackles rose, I didn’t owe him anything. “It was impossible to move where it had me but I was getting under its skin.” I knew how hunters were but I had to admit I was curious. His voice had such a touch of familiarity and kinda sounded like… no, it was just because the memory was so fresh but… there was no such thing as coincidence, did I just trade one monster for another? My mind warred and I glanced up trying to study him without looking at all interested.

“You seemed to have a good handle.”

“Don’t patronize me.”

He held up his hands, “I was just trying…” He sighed again and his body language spoke of a man running on little energy. He dropped his hands, “I need a drink. It’s late and you just closed my case. You can join if you want. It was just the first thing that came to mind. I’m Dean, by the way.”

I eyed him for a moment, trying to figure out why it hadn’t occurred to me that I didn’t even know his name. “Dean.” I pointed to myself, “Y/n.” Wow… way to go, Tarzan. “Sure.” I shrugged, “I would head to a bar anyway. I’m starving and really could use a drink.” Hello, I’m crazy lady and now that you’ve given me your name, I’m totally cool with going out with you. Shit. Getting a drink with you on a totally we’re in the same career field way. Ugh, fuck.

He gave me a nod and lifted the siren up easily. Show off. “Think you could help me get around that apartment building unnoticed? I’ve got a hole out back.”

Double show off. I gave a sharp nod and walked to the mouth of the alley. I pulled my gun from my back holster and shot out the two closest streetlights.

“You have a silencer?”

I winked but he probably couldn’t see it. “Top of the line, C.I.A. research and development. Go across, I’ll keep a look out to distract anyone until you get into the next alley.”

I may have walked behind him to study the way he moved and how he carried himself or maybe tried to figure out just how much muscle he had under that flannel shirt. He was way better looking than most, if not all, the hunters I’ve ever had contact with but there was no way in hell this man had any of my trust.

I was no damsel in distress. Never again. But if he was nice and we get along, I might just play right into his bed. It would give me a chance to check out what he’s packing in his hunter’s bag of toys and maybe find out who he was.

He dropped the body in the hole and lifted a shovel with a glance my way. He certainly had nice bone structure, I’d give him that. “What, no backup shovel?”

He looked at me as he pushed dirt into the hole, “why would I have a second?”

I shrugged and looked around, “never know when help might show up.”

He chuckled, “yeah. I’d just ask them if they wanted to help me hide a body.”

“I tried that once.”

He stopped and stared at me, “really?”

I smirked, “it was either that or try to pretend it wasn’t a body when I didn’t have anything but the head covered.”

He threw his head back and laughed. It was a nice laugh, maybe too loud for the situation we were in but maybe that’s what made it better. Maybe I might just see what he’s packing under those jeans too.

Dean watched Y/n as she made her way across the floor of the tavern. He had chosen the first open booth and wasn’t completely sure she’d even come. She wasn’t stupid; she didn’t know him and didn’t trust him. That much was easy to uncover but he was a hunter so maybe she was curious. There didn’t seem to be many of them left anymore.

He smiled as she slid into the bench seat across from him. He raised his hand catching the eye of the waitress, “I ordered already. I didn’t think you’d show.”

“Sorry, I needed to change. That damn glitter was driving me nuts.”

The blonde waitress turned that smile on bright as she sauntered over. Oh yeah, she was definitely into him. Too bad he just didn’t have it in him tonight. Her gaze flicked to the newcomer and she kept that smile on without even a crack in it, “what can I get ya?”

She ordered a burger and a whiskey then the waitress swayed those hips away. Y/n shifted in her seat and he glanced around trying not to stare. It was driving him crazy that something felt so damn familiar but the name didn’t ring any bells and they didn’t run in the same circles.

He shook it all off as the situation just being similar to so many other cases, but something had tugged up that old memory when he was seventeen and stumbled upon monsters of a different kind. He couldn’t even remember the name of the town. He should, it was the first time he got arrested and the asshole cops didn’t believe his story. There wasn’t even anything supernatural involved. At least, dad believed him though.

The jail cell wasn’t uncomfortable as much as it pissed him off. He was the hero here and yet they were treating him as the fucking bad guy. The cell finally opened and the uniformed officer waved him forward. “Your father is here.”

“Good. Someone with a brain is finally in the building,” he spat as he moved out. The officer pushed him. “Fucker,” he hissed under his breath covered by a cough as he walked down a hallway toward the next room.

His dad stood next to a desk looking pissed. Damn, he’d have to get the real story out quick.

“Dean.”

“Dad, you know I wouldn’t…”

“This officer said you beat the living hell out of three local boys. Is that true?”

“Yes.”

A flash of shock in his eyes, what did he think happened? Then the tight line in his mouth, the jerk in his jaw muscle. “What in the hell…”

“They were trying to rape a girl! I got them off her and told her to run! Just because these assholes can’t do their damn job they blame everything on me!”

The fat ass sorry excuse of an officer leaned on his desk, “the boys say there was no one else…”

“Of course, they would!” He clenched his fists not caring how much they ached.

Detective Chuckles crossed his arms over his chest. “These boys are known here in town. They’re good kids and no girl has called in or come in about an assault.”

Dean dropped his head and shook it. These assholes were going to pin this whole thing on him because he wasn’t local. Sonsofbitches.

“Yes, I’m sure a terrified girl who just went through the worst experience of her life thought her best option would be to come forward against three of the good ol’ boys in town.”

Dean snapped his head up and stared at the barely concealed rage that rolled off his dad.

“What would you have said to her? That it was her word against the good local boys who all denied it?”

The two officers ruffled and rolled their shoulders. Detective Chuckles responded as he tightened his arms across his chest, “the only evidence we have…”

His dad’s face twisted and he slammed his fist on Detective Fatass’s desk. “Did you even look at the area? Did you even consider my son’s story? What the hell were those boys doing out there, huh? Did you do your job at all or just take the good local boys word for it?”

His dad gave them barely a second before he steamrolled on. “I don’t see anyone else here but my son so I’m pretty damn sure what happened here.” He pulled out his FBI badge and slammed it on the desk. “You let my son go now and we don’t have to go any further but I’m telling you now, I’m watching this station. I’m keeping my eye on this town because if it happened tonight, it could’ve happened before. If they got away with it tonight, they’ll probably do it again. Clean up your town and do your fucking job.” The officers stared at a livid John Winchester and Chuckles even had his jaw hanging like a broken rear bumper. “Get those fucking cuffs off my boy, now.”

Dean walked out of the station completely blown away. His dad was still fuming as they strode to their sides of the car. His dad stopped before opening the driver’s door and looked at Dean over the roof. “What…” He grit his teeth and looked away, “did you stop them?”

Dean dropped his gaze as the memory of earlier that night shot into the foreground, “they didn’t but… I didn’t get there soon enough. Jesus, dad, I hung out with those guys at school. Adam was…” Dean shook his head, his stomach churning at what he found when he made it to the area of the park Jordan had told him to meet. “If you saw what they had done to her… I just lost it. They were ripping her underwear off when I got there and I caught a glimpse of her face. I was running late because I stole a forty to bring… if I had been on time…” His muscles clenched and he had a sudden need to punch something again. “I did beat the shit out of them and I would do it again.”

His dad was quiet and he looked up. His dad was smiling but there was something there in his eyes, haunted. “Good. No man should ever treat a woman like that. And anyone that does deserves whatever you gave him.”

“You still here with me, Dean?”

He shook his head and looked up at the strong, self-possessed woman who killed the siren. He hoped that girl had the chance to become something like her, or just the chance to become whatever the hell she wanted. He cleared his throat, “yeah, sorry. Just… memories sneaking up on me.”

She nodded, looking into her glass. Another haunted look. “Yeah, I know all about that.”

“You don’t have to answer but what was with the siren… going all shadowman?”

She shrugged and rolled her eyes. “It said I didn’t know what I really desired. Just knew a voice.” She forced a laugh but her back tensed, “there’s no one left I love so… and nothing I’m in desperate need of, you know? When I’m tired, I sleep. When I’m hungry, I eat. When I’m feisty…” she blushed and took another sip from her glass, “you know what I’m saying. The hunter’s lifestyle.” She turned her glass as she stared down at it.

“Yes.” He smirked, “my brother disagrees with what he calls my version of the lifestyle but sometimes you just need a good roll in the hay to clear out the nightmares.” He took a swig from his beer, “he’s also a pain in the ass so…”

She chuckled, “I don’t know. Having a partner sure would make hunting a bit easier but it’s hard to find one that doesn’t screw shit up or make you want to kill them because they think they get a free pass in your pants just because you closed a case.” She glanced at him with a smirk, “but you probably don’t have that problem.”

“Are you kidding? I get that problem all the time. Damn hunters and insane libidos. Thinking they can get in my pants just because they looked my way.”

She stared at him and he thought he read her wrong until she finally let go and laughed. A full out burst of joy. The tight hold she had over her features softened, her eyes brightened and glittered in the soft light above their booth, and her smile was just something else. He loved it. Every damn carefree second of it.

Her laughter calmed and she looked down at her glass, her mouth curled in a grin and her face warm with a glow that made him lean a little closer. She glanced his way before finally gazing into his eyes again, she lost some of that edge from earlier, “I gotta admit, this is nice. I thought you’d push liquor on me and try to talk me into a quickie in the bathroom. You’re a welcome change on this shitty road.”

“Never. The bathroom definitely wouldn’t give me enough time.” He winked, “I’m just surprised we’ve never bumped into each other before. There’s not many of us left.”

“And I thought the Winchesters were a damn myth.”

He grinned, “is that right?”

“I mean come on, do you know half the things they say about you? That you’ve got an angel for a best friend, that God himself brought you back from the dead, multiple times mind you, and you shacked up with a vampire in purgatory.” She cackled, “I mean seriously…” her sparkling eyes met his and her smile faltered. “You’ve gotta be shitting me.”

“Okay, the vampire shacking up thing is completely misconstrued…”

“Fuck you.”

He pulled back, studying her assessing gaze, “ahh…”

The waitress set down their plates and glanced between the two of them, “need anything else?”

She narrowed her eyes then turned to the waitress, “we need more whiskey, thanks.”

The waitress looked at him and he nodded. She headed back to the bar as y/n leaned forward, “I can tell if you’re lying. I was trained by the best.”

“Would you like to talk to that angel?” He pulled out his cell phone.

She quirked a brow, “you’re going to call him. You’re telling me your angel has a cell phone?”

He nodded, “and a ridiculous voicemail.”

“Bullshit.”

“You wanna put some money down on that?”

She leaned back and eyed him. He swiped the phone open, tapped the right icon, then held his finger over Cas’s contact.

“If you can prove some of the wildest theories,” she grinned, “I’ll give you fifty bucks and for each one you can’t, you owe me.”

Dean had a feeling she held an ace but he knew some of the stories and most were true. She lifted her burger as if she was no longer concerned but she smiled before taking a bite with a look in her eye he knew well.

This night was just about to get awesome. Thank you, Destiny. Nah, fuck her. He still had it. Some things just never change.

@duchessofwinchester , @jodyri, @jencharlan , @deanssweetheart23 @torn-and-frayed , @chrisatplay , @mogaruke , @captainemwinchester , @escabell , @mrswhozeewhatsis

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