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kylorengarbagedump · 4 years

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Little Bird: Chapter 39 (NSFW)

Read on AO3. Part 38 here. Part 40 here.

Summary: The WHO probably doesn't recommend you do any of these things while pregnant.

Words: 9900

Warnings: tw: graphic depictions of big time violence, both physical AND sexual, DUBIOUS consent, voyeurism

Characters: Kylo Ren x Handmaid!Reader

A/N: Hello, welcome back to my horror show! Hahaha.

Thank you very much for your patience in me waiting to get this chapter out. As you can tell, it is a beast. I genuinely hope you enjoyed it as apology for the long wait.

Cannot thank everyone's kindness and thoughtfulness enough. Your comments always, always brighten my day. I love y'all with my whole heart.

“So the plan is to flank them.”

“We’ll flank them here--Kuruk, Ap’lek, and you will take the east side. Cardo, Trudgen, and myself will take the west.”

“Where do we pull over, then? We won’t be able to get the Buzzard that close.”

The Night Buzzard was split into three sections--the front third was dedicated to food and supplies storage and an imitation of livable seating, the second third designated entirely for weaponry. The rear of the bus consisted of four stony, stripped bunks, beds in function only.

The Knights Templar--save for one, who was driving--had spent the past hour out of the six-hour journey at the front. They crowded over a map, debating their strategy while you watched, perched on the tiny couch across from them. Your Commander loomed beside you, silent, the knife of his gaze occasionally slipping over you, so sharp it slit you through his mask. He had hardly spoken a word since you’d boarded; the quick, piercing glances were the only evidence you had that he remembered you were there--a feat while stuck in close proximity on an armored bus.

“A five-hundred foot perimeter is typical.”

“Five-hundred feet gives them too much opportunity. The Buzzard has jammers.”

“Jammers don’t mask the sound of the engine, ‘Shar.”

“All right then, Vic, but the more space we give them, the greater chance they have of escape.”

Kylo Ren turned to them. “The primary objective is to destroy the subversives. Flank the encampment, salvage what documentation you can, kill any that cross your path.” He paused. “Leave Pryde to me.”

His voice was cold, even through the modulation. You sulked into the corner of the couch, anxiety knitting in your chest. To be near your Commander brought you a sense of peace, but the unanswered question of your future--your child’s future--left you lurching. You longed for a moment, two moments alone with him, an opportunity to search his eyes and find liberty in his response. Perhaps in a hormonal, pregnant haze, you’d imagined it like a prophecy: his large hands, curling around yours, his lip trembling with fear, his silence a concession. And you’d imagined the words swirling into your ears, granting you everything you’d grown to need.

I’m choosing you, he’d breathe.We’re free.

But staring at him now, hidden under a helmet, armored, toting a rifle and pistol, you weren’t sure where the man in your prophecy might be. You weren’t sure if that particular man had ever existed at all.

The bus shuddered, striking into rough terrain; beyond the tinted windows, you could make out a field blanched under the quarter-moon, wild maize exploding through the grasses.

“We’re about half a mile out,” called the driver--Kuruk, you thought.

At this, Kylo opened a cabinet and grabbed two devices--they beeped and hissed when he turned them on, and he fiddled with them both in a sort of calibration before crouching to be level with you. He pushed one into your hands, stowing the other one on his hip.

“This frequency is full-duplex. We will hear each other at all times. If someone unfamiliar to you even glances at the Night Buzzard, you will call for me.” He pinched your chin between leather fingers, angling your eyes into the void of his mask. “Do you understand?”

Your cheeks burned. You swallowed. “Yes, Commander.”

He huffed--static in the mask--and patted your cheek. “Good girl.”

As you blushed, he stood and crossed to the Knights. They steeped themselves in hushed discussion until the driver signaled their arrival. With a rumble, the Buzzard slowed, coasting to a stop behind a smattering of trees, and through the darkness, you could spy a collection of distant glowing lights, cold and artificial. One of the Knights murmured something about cutting a generator, and Kylo nodded. A brief, mustered agreement, and the doors opened, the soldiers filing out, leaving their leader behind. He turned to you a final time.

“The exterior is bulletproof. The door will lock.” His presence was heavy. You wished you could touch him. “At even a glance.”

“I know.” You gazed at the transceiver, its power light blinking like a heartbeat. “I will.”

Kylo held you under his stare for a lingering second before stomping down the steps and exiting the Buzzard. With everyone now gone, the air seemed stale. Empty. Sighing, you rose to your feet, dragging yourself to the driver’s seat and plopping into it, cradling the radio in your lap. The only noise filtering through the speaker was muffled static.

Though you could only see from several hundred feet away, the camp seemed unassuming, composed of a couple dozen military vehicles and a bunch of pitched tents that appeared half-packed away. They’d said the encampment was moving tonight--the Buzzard’s dash read 10:42 PM. Bodies bustled under the lights, Angels in black uniforms and armed with rifles carting indiscernible armfuls to store them on trucks. You scanned the fields, searching for your Commander, but found nothing. Kylo Ren and his men had disintegrated into the dark.

It started with a flicker--the camp’s lights fluttered like a flame--and a black veil swallowed the outer ring of the perimeter. The men in your sight seemed confused, not concerned, spinning to examine the issue, creeping forward. And then one dropped with a crack, the items in his arms tumbling free, his body folding into itself as it hit the ground. With firecracker panic, the camp erupted, soldiers revealing their rifles and whirling in sloppy formation, only to watch other comrades smack the dirt, shot dead in random, bloody heaps.

A coordinated effort was abandoned, and the Angels scattered, rifled roaches under dying halogen lights. But their attempts to hide were futile--the second they found shelter, another layer of lighting winked out, and they scuttled to the center, shooting volleys of gunfire in no particular direction. It was only then you caught them--the Knights, cutting through the camp like raven razors, collapsing tents and impaling bodies as they passed. A pair was back to back, twirling as one clotheslined two Angels and the other emptied a clip into an approaching squad. A third covered those two, winding around them and unleashing a full automatic round into the camp.

Then a sharp bang, white fire--you winced--the men in the camp stiffening in temporary paralysis. In their stupor, the other three Knights descended, sharks consuming a helpless meal, rending their prey into paper shreds. One Knight slit a man’s face from ear to ear, a crest of blood in the dirt, and twisted his knife into the back of his mouth. The man screamed into the sky, so loud you heard it from the Buzzard, and then through the transceiver, followed by echoes of furious voices demanding order in new, terrible chaos.

The horror picked up the pace of your heart--this was different than the times you’d watched Kylo. Their savagery was almost sadistic; a thought confirmed when two Knights paused their spree to watch an Angel wriggle like a split worm, kicking him as his blood clumped mud under his chest. You swallowed, tearing your eyes away as another section of lights died, plunging the entire camp into darkness. Shouting choruses of strained voices ripped through the radio, the only sign of activity the sparks of muzzle fire and shifting shadows under the moon.

Staccato pops pierced the speaker, and you jumped, focus darting between the device and the absolute nothing you could see beyond the bus. And then a voice, familiar--the man you remembered as Pryde.

“Took you long enough, Ren.” Another round of gunshots. “Three weeks to pin us down?”

Two shots, louder, closer. “Easier to find rats when they have nowhere to hide.”

“You’re willing to bet on that.” A single pop.

“Betting implies faith in the outcome.” A pause. “I don’t have faith. I have knowledge.”

A cacophony of shots staticked the speaker, and you clapped your hands over your mouth, silencing your squeals. You glanced out the window, still seeing nothing but the twinkles of the Knights’ massacre. Like dust, the exchange settled, someone panting over the channel. From the clarity of breath, it didn’t sound like Kylo.

“Impossible,” said Pryde. “There are cells that you can’t possibly--won’t possibly ever know about.”

“You’re willing to bet on that.”

Something crossed through a shaft of starlight, moving toward the Buzzard. You blinked, inching toward the dashboard. It was difficult to see in the darkness.

“You pushed Gilead too far.”

“I’m improving it.”

“Your improvements are borderline treason.”

“You’re heading a coup.”

Explosions of noise through the radio, a growling scrape--your throat tightened. The shadow was definitely human. It was definitely coming closer. Running.

You grabbed the transceiver, holding it to your mouth. “Um. Commander?”

The only response was static, a party of bullets through the speaker. Fear stabbed your chest, your pulse in your ears.

“It will never be treason to restore Gilead to God’s word.” Another crackle. “I’m righting your mistakes.” More gunfire. “This isn’t a coup, it’s retribution.”

“Commander,” you said, a little louder. “Sir.”

“You’ll need the support of the Council.”

It was an Angel. He was rushing the Buzzard with something, some sort of bag in his hand. It looked, maybe, wiry. It looked, in your mind, like a bomb.

Your heart careened--why wasn’t he listening, why wasn’t he answering--and you fumbled the radio, sending it tumbling onto the floor of the bus and under your feet. The light stopped blinking.

“Fuck.” You tried to kick it toward you, managing only to knock it under the seat. “Fuck! Kylo! Kylo!”

Of course, there was no response.

“You think you have the support of the Council? You’re no Snoke. You never will be.”

You scrambled to the floor, knees scratching metal. Reached for the transceiver.

“I killed Snoke.” A clatter of metal--you snagged the device and flung it toward you. “This is my destiny.”

Turning it on, you screeched, “Kylo please there’s someone running with a bag please help!”

The sound of a gunshot. An inhuman snarl. And the radio went dead.

“Kylo?” you said. “Commander? Sir?”

A shriek of fire erupted in the camp, spewing dirt and smoke into the air, and you screamed, shouting nonsense into the transceiver, as if this would summon him to your side. The explosion guttered in seconds, flames trickling to death, fog fading. There was no sign of the Knights. Or your Commander.

Your heart thudded. Something could’ve happened to him. He could be dead. But there was no time to process or consider it. You were alone in the Buzzard. With the Angel only coming closer. One hundred possibilities reeled through your mind--he could be escaping, defecting, taking this chance to denounce his chains--yet the only one you could consider was the one that involved him blowing you and the bus to whichever afterlife actually existed. Running wasn’t an option, if he did blow up the bus, with you being in the middle of nowhere and with no places to hide. There was only one other choice. Before anything and everything else, you needed to survive.

Steeling your jaw, you scrambled toward the second third of the bus, threw open the weaponry cabinets and stared at the assembly of rifles, shotguns, pistols, and other deathbringers. There was no leisure to figure out how to use a new type of gun--you barely knew how to use one. You snatched a pistol, testing its weight in your palm before fussing to find the safety. Your fingers found the magazine release instead--it popped out, revealing a full clip, and you silently thanked whatever divine being allowed that to happen, because there was no way you would’ve checked to see if the stupid thing had bullets. The safety was already disengaged. Swallowing, you wiped your palms on your robe and tramped to the exit, chin quaking while you flipped the lock and opened the door.

The summer air stuffed your lungs, and you wheezed through it, stumbling into the dirt. Holding your breath, you sidled up to the Buzzard, spying the Angel sprinting through the grass. Your hands shook, stomach churned. There was no way you’d nail this shot. Unfortunately, you had to try.

Teeth gnashing, you tugged back the slide and raised your arms, elbows locked, fixing the sight of the pistol on the shifting shade. To account for delay, you led the barrel in front of his path, following him for one second, and two. You pulled the trigger.

Rattled by force, the bullet went wide, whizzing into space, and you gulped, watching as the Angel paused, searching for its origin. You hunted for oxygen, but the air was thick, ears shrill with terror. Adrenaline drunk, you threw your arms forward, aiming again. Fuck it. He still wasn’t moving. This time, you wouldn’t miss.

Lip curling, you fired, wrists flung back, and the Angel yelped, dropping a knee. You had only seconds to celebrate before he turned straight toward you, and your blood froze. He struggled to his feet, hand moving at his waist--you panted, unable to stop the rapid vibration wracking your joints as you tried to aim again. In a zombie shuffle, he leveled his own pistol and sent off a shot, pinging the steel next to your head.

“Fuck!”

You clung to the side of the Buzzard, heaving now, clenching the gun in your hands. You wanted to get it together. He still had that bag in his arms, and now he knew you were here. You needed to get it together. With his injury, he was holding his gun one-handed--the recoil recovery would be your chance. Every pulse of your heart clouded your sight--you drew in a slow, deep inhale through your nose, ignoring the flighty feather of thought in the back of your mind:

Where the hell was your Commander?

Shaking it off, you adjusted your grasp and spun the corner, moving to aim--another shot glanced off the bus, and you shrieked, falling to your knees. Growling, fight-or-flight flaring, you tracked the Angel, determined to win, and pulled the trigger.

And nothing happened.

“What the fuck,” you said, and smacked the gun, like this would help. You tried to shoot again, but nothing. “What the fuck!”

Your failure was the Angel’s opportunity--you glanced up, his arm already raised.

Pop.

Wincing, you waited for the pain. But none came. You blinked, peering into the grasses, and spotted the Angel, crumpled to the ground.

Commander Kylo Ren broke through the night, a cyclone through the fields--relief flooded you, fleeing your lungs--he was alive. He was here. And he was charging you like a tank.

“Kylo,” you breathed, and clambered to your feet, pulling your lips in over your teeth. But he didn’t respond. Your fight-or-flight stalled in his approach.

Palms wet, your grip slipped and the gun smacked the dirt, shooting a round into the grass. You flinched, neck hot, made to grab it, but before you could reach, a gloved hand gnarled your hair and whipped you back, hauling you onto the Buzzard.

You yipped in pain. “Kylo!” Tugging at his fingers, you tried to pry free as he yanked you up the steps, but he tightened his grip, wrenching you forward and tossing you onto the couch. “Will you--”

His mask snapped with static--he seized your face, pinching your cheeks. “You seem to have a penchant for bullets,” he said. “If you’re so interested, I’ll put another one in you myself.”

You glared at him, pushing him off. “Are you kidding?” you said. “I thought he had a bomb!”

Kylo grabbed your face again. “He was carrying documents. And your solution was to begin a shooting match.”

“Who cares?” you spat. “You’re the one who didn’t respond to the radio!”

He growled. “You may care little for your own life, but you are--”

In the distance, tires squealed, a vehicle spinning into the field--his head snapped toward the front, and he pushed you free, striding to the driver’s seat.

Without a word, he revved the engine and threw it into gear, slamming on the gas and peeling through the grass, speeding in the other vehicle’s direction. You jolted with the terrain, seeking purchase on the couch, but he jerked the shift into low gear, motor wailing as he plowed through the plains. Thrown forward, you grappled with the table across from you, peering through the windshield, watching Kylo barrel into the night.

You knew that he was in pursuit of Pryde. But your conversation didn’t feel finished. In the back of your mind, alarms blared: evidence, evidence of your inevitable fate. The man in your prophecy was a stranger. The one in your reality hadn’t come when you’d called him. He seemed reluctant to choose you at all.

The Buzzard roared, its acceleration impressive for its size, chasing the speeding sedan, catching its rear in its headlights. Focused, Kylo shoved the gearshift forward, and the engine howled, flinging you back to the couch with a yelp.

“Stop moving.”

You frowned. “It’s not like there are seatbelts back here.”

The sedan cut to the left, zooming toward a highway, and Kylo growled. “Get up here.”

Gripping the sides of the aisle, you pulled yourself toward the driver’s seat, and when you met the back of the chair, Kylo reached around, wound an arm around your waist, and dragged you on his lap. You squeaked--before you could adjust, he hit the brakes and jerked the wheel; the Buzzard whined, teetering in protest, and Kylo tugged you to his frame, shifting under you to keep you both from hitting the floor.

Your face burned--despite your frustration with him, he was large and warm underneath you, his chest steady at your back. Swallowing, you grabbed his thighs, hoping to steady yourself, and if he noticed, he didn’t care, letting you cling while he focused on the hunt. The sedan bumbled across pavement, sliced through the highway, back into the fields--Kylo smashed the gas, and the Buzzard flew over the asphalt with a smack, bouncing you on his lap, sending heat to your cheeks. The distance from his prey was negligible, now; the car was some type of black Volkswagen, the license plate glinting in the glare of headlights.

Kylo stiffened and lowered the window, buffeting you with gusts of syrupy air, and grabbed your hands, tacking them to the wheel. “Steer.”

Your jaw dropped. “Wait--”

He brandished his pistol and stretched out--you jostled over his thighs--lining up a shot as you bore down on the car. Gritting your teeth, you kept the Buzzard straight as it rumbled over the dirt, and he tensed, firing two shots, blowing out his target’s rear tires. The Volkswagen whirled, a tornado in the grass spiraling toward you, set to collide with your front-end; you thought to do nothing else but swerve and spin the wheel. The sharp curve pitched the bus off of its side, and you cursed, the both of you thrown toward the steps.

A strong arm barred your waist, catching you and wresting you back, and a leather hand encompassed yours--Kylo slammed the brakes, righting the tires as the bus screeched to a stop feet away from the car, rocking you both into the driver’s side, his hold buffering you from injury. You panted, face and flesh hot, head airy; in the grass, Pryde scrambled from the Volkwagen into blinding light, a crimson streak through his scalp. He ducked, took cover behind his car and drew his pistol, lodging two shots in the windshield. You yelped--there was no chance to speak before Kylo pushed you off, his own pistol in hand as he shouldered his way through the bus door and into the glow of the Buzzard’s headlamps.

Pop, pop--the fire stalled your Commander’s advance, and he shielded himself with the bus’s body. Emblazoned with righteous furor, Pryde shot again, burying a bullet in the frame.

“You’re an idiot, Ren. You’ll do this forever. I won’t be the last.” From your height, you could see Pryde fussing with something. He must not have known you were there. “As long as you go against God’s plan, you’ll never win.”

Then he tossed whatever was in his hand, covering his eyes--a stabbing flash eclipsed your sight, its detonation drowning your ears, and you gasped, seething, curling at the waist. When the noise died, you groaned, rubbing the artifacts from your vision, peering into the field. In the seconds you’d been stymied, Pryde had disappeared. Your Commander shot into the car--nothing--and crept through the grass, head on a swivel.

Spits of gunfire from the driver’s side of the Buzzard, and Kylo juked back, landing them on opposite sides of the bus in a stand-off. You chewed your lip. Pryde definitely didn’t know you were there. And there was still a cache of guns in the cabinets. Turning, you snuck through the aisle--but when you reached the storage, a hail of bullets crackled from the Buzzard’s rear. Despite being inside, you bowed, heart in your stomach, pulse pounding with fear. You needed to keep going.

Swallowing, you threw open the door to the cache, plucking another pistol from its hook. You remembered your near-follies earlier: magazine, check. Safety, check. Slide pulled back, check. More sweat on your palms. Cursing to yourself, you wiped them on your robes again, shuffling to the front--and then another blast, another searing light. You hissed, knees buckling, gunshots echoing through your ringing ears. A grunt escaped you, your jaw tense, and you shook off the pain, forcing yourself to look through the windshield. Your eyes adjusted, unfuzzing, just in time to see Enric Pryde raise his gun and shoot your Commander twice in the chest.

It happened in split seconds. Kylo staggered, impact hampered by his bulletproof vest, his gun falling into the grass; you trapped a scream, your muscles burst with adrenaline. Bungling the pistol in your grip, you scaled the driver’s seat, blood soaring, brain baffled--you were doing this again you were seriously doing this again--and leaned out the window. Pryde approached, raised his weapon, training it on Kylo, and in that instant, your mind cleared, annoyance and worry and terror swallowed with rage, all of it coalescing into a single, solitary thought:

That’s my child’s father, asshole.

You steadied your arms, pulled the trigger--your ears trilled, elbows bowed--and Pryde howled, knee slamming the dirt. Pinching your lips together, you fought the urge to tremble, preparing to shoot again, but Kylo had already recovered. He lunged, tackling Pryde to ground, the other man’s pistol sailing into the air and disappearing into the dark.

Pryde twisted underneath your Commander’s weight, trying and failing to throw him off. “God doesn’t make exceptions, Ren!” Kylo clocked him in the jaw, and he choked, sputtered. “Gilead will never accept you making a whore your--”

Kylo’s fist clobbered his face, striking him over and over and over, blood spewing from his mouth, his nose, over his chin. You couldn’t sit down, something strange tingling your neck under the knowledge that the mention of you made him snap: a sick glimmer of affection, of hope. A disgusting delusion that, perhaps, he really could choose you. Bone cracked, Pryde’s cheek collapsed, and Kylo stopped, heaving, arm reeled back.

The older man wheezed, skull pulverized to a mess of meat. “Go ahead and kill me, Ren. But there’s no such thing as destiny. The longer you try to fight God’s design, the greater you’ll lose.”

“Interesting theory. But God doesn’t design Gilead.” Kylo glanced at you, still bent out of the Buzzard. Your heart fluttered--without him having to say it, you knew what he was asking. With an underhand, you lobbed him the gun, and he snatched it from the air, jammed it against Pryde’s broken chin. “I do.”

Pryde gagged, red drool dribbling from his lips. “You’re the devil.”

“Yes.” Kylo’s voice was mechanized malevolence. “I am.”

Pop. Blood spattered his visor, Pryde’s head lolled in the grass. At the same time you exhaled, slumping into the driver’s seat, your Commander’s shoulders bunched, then fell. He hung there, hovering over his victim. Silent, he stared for a moment before he rose, pistol in hold, and crossed to the bus.

You should have felt relief as the door opened and he stepped onto the Buzzard--his enemies vanquished, a victorious soldier, your body the spoils--but when he towered over you, your ribcage constricted with dread. Pryde’s words looped through your mind.

You’ll do this forever. I won’t be the last. The longer you try to fight... the greater you’ll lose.

They nagged you, clawed at the wrinkles of your brain. Because despite their origin, you knew--despite not wanting to know--that they were very, unfortunately, true. And if you knew that, then part of Kylo had to know that, too. Part of him had to know how shallow this victory was.

He flicked a switch on the dashboard, and picked up a wired transmitter, spinning a knob until static fizzed from the Buzzard’s radio. “Target eliminated,” he said, and reported a pair of coordinates. “Your status.”

Another voice came through the speaker--one of the Knights. “Documentation obtained. Encampment neutralized. En route shortly.”

Without a word, he flicked the switch and replaced the transmitter.

“Um. So.” Shifting in the seat, you gazed at him, seeking his eyes through the visor. “Will this ever stop?”

A tired hm was all he offered.

You sighed, pulling the robe closed over your chest. “I mean, will you always be fighting just so we can be together?”

He stood, solid, staring. Or not staring. It was too difficult to tell. Either way, he said nothing.

“I know that’s what you want.” You shrugged. It was easier to look at him when you didn’t know if he was looking back. “For us to be together. But this isn’t going to work.”

His head tilted a single millimeter. “Work.” It was more of a question than a statement.

“If this is what it’s going to be, then it won’t work.” The words hung, heavy in the air, and you paused, waiting for his response. You received none. So you continued. “There’s another way, though.” Leveling him with your gaze, you held your breath. “We can just leave.”

Kylo snorted, turning into the aisle. “We don’t need to leave.”

“We do.” You shook your head. “He’s right, Kylo.” You crossed your arms. “I hate to say it, but he’s right. You have to realize that you can’t make this perfect. It’s broken.”

“Of course it is.” He returned the pistol to the weapons rack. “It’s broken because I’m not finished.”

You frowned. “Well, it really doesn’t matter what you do,” you replied, “if it involves Gilead at all, then I don’t want it.”

He spun on his heel. “You don’t want it?” he asked, voice rising. “Is this not enough?”

Raising a brow, you caught a laugh in your chest. “Of course it’s not enough! How could it be? I told you--I’ll always want more.”

“More? More than what?” Kylo stalked through the aisle, heel-ball-toe. “Haven’t I kept you safe?” He was a black condor, cornering you in the driver’s seat. “Fucked you well?”

Heat seared your face. “It was because of you that I was in danger anyway!” Shaking your head again, you allowed your chest to puff out in indignance. “None of it is enough when you’re free, and I’m not.”

“No,” he said, “you were in danger because of imperfection. People assigned to the wrong roles. People failing to fulfill the roles they were meant to fill.” He edged closer. “Freedom is inconsequential under perfect design.”

“Your design is bullshit, your roles are bullshit!” You jumped to your feet, bumping his breast, and his shoulders tensed--but you ignored it, and pushed past him into the aisle. “As long as you try to force things on people, they’ll never be happy.” Flustered, you gestured toward him. “Hell, you’re not even happy! I know you aren’t!”

The prophecy seemed distant and comical, now. But the inevitability of this reality was almost too painful to admit--the fact that despite your pregnancy, he was still unwilling to forgo his stance. The facts were that you would never be with Kylo Ren, he would never know his child, you would never be allowed to have him, and he would never understand your needs.

Dozens, hundreds, thousands of nevers welled in your throat, flooded your eyes, nevers that never should have been, and nevers that never would be. Never whispering his name, never waking up in his arms, never seeing him cradle his child, and never falling asleep next to him in a future where he was your home and your family, a future where you would feel his lips on yours, naked in your shared bed, feeling safe, feeling secure, feeling loved.

Your throat was tight. “I’m… I’m pregnant, Kylo. I don’t want to raise my child in a world where it can’t know choice. I don’t want to fulfill whatever you believe my role is!” Scanning him, you stiffened your jaw, and his fists tightened, his leather gloves squelched. “I want to be with you. I do. But it can’t be like this.” Steel sharpened your tone. “As long as you have Gilead, you’ll never have me.”

You pivoted, stepping toward the back of the bus--but a leather-bound hand grasped your neck and whipped you back, curled you against his chest, a metal muzzle at your face. Frowning, you squirmed, and he halted you with ease, subsuming you in his strength.

“That’s where you’re mistaken.” The sound coming from the mask was not one you recognized. “I already have you.” His free hand skated down your stomach. “I’ve already won.”

“Get off of me, Kylo.” You moved again, but he shook you in his hold.

“You said it yourself,” he replied. “You wanted this. You wanted my child.”

“That doesn’t matter.” Your skin tingled from his proximity, from the electric silk in his voice. “You have my body. That doesn’t mean you have my mind.”

“So you say. Yet you pulled a gun on Pryde. You helped me end his life.” He huffed, a human rumble in his throat. “Who would do that other than someone who wanted what I wanted, too?”

You tried to shake your head, stuck in his grasp. “I don’t want what you want.” Something flickered low in your abdomen. “I don’t want to fulfill a role.”

Kylo shifted, his hand sliding from your neck into your hair, coiling around it. “You already are fulfilling your role.” Every word forced you to resist the urge to whimper. “You want to be mine. And you want it so badly that you’re willing to forsake everything to have it.”

Shame streaked through you, hotter than hell itself, and you cried out, shoving him back, only for him to grapple you and flatten you along the pantry chest first, smothering you, stoking horrified heat under your flesh. He wrenched your arm behind your back with ease, his boots framing your feet, his hips pinning your backside.

“Don’t deny it,” he said. “You know I’m right.”

“No.” Most of you was sure he wasn’t right. But the tiny twinkle that shivered at the thought of forever being his, no matter the cost, agreed. Your chin trembled. “You’re wrong.”

Another rumble, deep in his chest. “Am I?” His pelvis pressed against you. “You’re willing to deceive Johana. Manipulate the Resistance.” One hand wagged your scalp, the other holding your hip as you wiggled under him. “You’re willing to watch others die. You’re even willing to kill.”

“Stop.” You panted, hating the rush of excitement to your thighs, hating that his words were making sense. “That’s not--that’s not how it is.”

“But this is how it works.” A slow exhale left him. “Neither of us have ever had choices. You realize that, now. This is who we’re meant to be.”

“You’re wrong.”

“I’m not.” Kylo’s fingers dug into your hip. “You’re meant to be mine. And I’m meant to own you, to own all of this.” He inhaled, the noise hollow in his helmet. “You’re never escaping me.” His weight compressed you along the cabinet, shortened your breath. “And I’m never letting you leave.”

Terror exploded into wrath. It couldn’t be true. “No!” You writhed underneath him, but he weighed on you like a boulder. “Fuck! Get off of me!”

A low, quiet noise of amusement knocked in his throat. “Poor thing. You want to avoid it. But this is what you want.”

“No, it’s not!”

“It is.” He nuzzled his helmet against your head. “You’re as much me as you ever were. The only difference…” He hummed, hand at your hip massaging the flesh. “I admit who I am.”

Desire thickened your throat, your heart crumpled in despair. How dare he, how dare he make you believe he cared for you--then reveal it was a ploy to land you exactly where he’d wanted. And nothing he said had been wrong. Despite your best intentions, your earnest efforts, there was still no one’s life you cared to save--outside of your own--other than his. You tried to steady your lungs, ignoring the rising urge to have him even closer.

“I know who you are,” you said. “I know you’re better than this.”

“You do?” Kylo Ren snickered. “You’re mistaken, angel. Didn’t you hear what he said?” His muzzle, cold carbon, met your ear. “I’m the devil.”

A surge of lust swirled in your belly, and you screamed, thrashing, trying to throw him off. He ceded an inch, and you shouldered him back, only for him to wrap his hand around your throat and spin you, back smacking the cabinet. One arm framed your head, the other driving into your chest, and you swallowed against him. Scowling, you stared into the empty facade of his mask.

Even in his assuredness, you would never tell him how deep you’d fallen--it was the final thing he couldn’t take. After all, every other line you’d meant to draw had long been washed by the waves of your selfish hunger. Hunger that, even in this moment, barked with greed.

His mask tilted, dipping over your figure--your robe was askew, revealing half of your breast, your stomach peeking through the gap--and his grip on your neck tightened, fuzzing your pulse. Your knees weakened, even as you hoped to raze him to the floor with your eyes. Kylo huffed with restrained excitement.

“Mm. You’re trembling.” His thumb stroked your wild heartbeat. “You’re hot.”

“Fuck you,” you said. “You’re disgusting.”

“Perhaps I am.” The hand above your head slipped under your robe, leather skimming your skin. “But we both know how you love to revel in filth.”

Air caught in your chest--this bastard--you rolled your tongue in your mouth, jaw tense, and you sucked in a breath, spitting a fat glob straight onto his mask.

Kylo hissed, lifting you by the neck until your feet dangled, slamming your skull into the cabinet. You grunted, digging the heels of your palms into his shoulders, kicking his stomach--but he was a mountain, immune to your timid storm. His sheer size neutralized your effort, and he leaned close, flattening you along the pantry, paralyzing your limbs.

“If you know what’s good for you,” he purred, deadly soft in the mask, “you’ll clean that up.”

Hunger wasn’t barking, now. It was howling. And you wanted to stoke its appetite.

“You’re right,” you replied. “How rude of me.”

Smirking, you gathered another wad of spit at the top of your palate--and after a long, obvious scrape of your throat, you hocked it at his eyes.

Hurled through the air, you crashed into the aisle, feeling footsteps quake the floor. You spun onto your ass, scurrying backwards on your palms, Kylo chasing you in long, livid strides. You heaved, heart pounding, crawling until your back connected with a metal frame. One of the beds. Before you could think to dodge, he ripped you up by your hair and onto your knees, slapping you hard across the face.

“Nasty little bitch.” His grip curled at your scalp, his other hand groping his now-obvious arousal. “You must have forgotten what your mouth is for.”

You sneered. “I’m fairly certain it’s for cursing you.”

White pain whacked your cheek, and he shook you back to reality, your vision swimming. He’d undone his belt, and pulled free his angry, erect cock. “Drop your jaw, little bird,” he murmured. “Before I break it off.”

When you hesitated, Kylo drove his thumb into your mouth and hooked it behind your teeth, tugging it down to receive his length. You stared at him, contempt simmering in your eyes, exhilaration careening through your blood. Of course you were infuriated with him, but this only seemed to incense your passion, rather than dampen it--perhaps, in that way, you were like him, too. As his cock slipped over your tongue, you let loose a soft moan, and he released you, allowing you to seal your lips around his thick, heavy shaft.

Both hands shot into your hair, holding you still while he rocked into your mouth, and you hummed, gazing into his visor, wondering what he looked like behind the mask. Your tongue pressed to the underside of his dick, earning a growl from his chest, and he jerked your neck back, sliding in deeper.

“Use your hands,” he said. “Unless you want me to fuck your throat.”

You rolled your eyes--but encircled the base anyway, struggling to fully wrap around his girth. Groaning, your lids fluttered while you drooled onto him, slicking your saliva down his length, bobbing your head while you struggled to keep your attention trained on his face. His cock filled your mouth, the tip poking your soft palate, and you sucked, revealing in his sharp intake of air as you tightened your grip. Even if you never did this again, having him in your mouth was a feeling you’d take to your grave--the hot silk skin at your lips, the pulsing on your tongue, the sore stretch to your jaw--all of it made you throb, made you ache for more.

“Mm, that’s right.” He adjusted his grasp, urging you back and forth on his cock, making you gag. “Much better than hearing you speak.”

Narrowing your lids, you pulled your lips back, letting your teeth catch on his shaft--Kylo grunted and jerked out of you, backhanding you in the jaw. You wailed, your sight spun with pain, but your cunt was soaked, dripping and clenching with your escalating need.

“Fuck y--” you began, before he yanked your head back and shoved his dick down your throat.

You retched, choked, vision flooding with tears, but with him handling your hair like reins, he trapped you there, your mouth a helpless hole for him to fuck. He snapped his hips, his dick bulging in your neck, his breath labored with the pace of his thrusts. Sweat spilled down your back, and you retched again as his cock twitched on your tongue, cranked your jaw wide, plunged in and out of your throat.

“You pretend to fight.” The words were husky under modulation. “But you love it. You’re a slut for my cock.”

Under the noise of your groaned assent, you heard it: beyond the perimeter of the Buzzard, an unmuffled motor, advancing fast. The Knights had arrived. A thrill lit up your spine; perhaps it was the anger with your Commander--a spiteful need to make him jealous--or the fact you were more aroused than you’d been in weeks, but the thought of being caught by them, just like this, flashed fire at your neck and between your legs. You whimpered with anticipation.

But if Kylo had noticed, he didn’t seem to care--he clutched your head, reveling in the wet warmth of your throat as you swallowed around him. Voices echoed in the stark night air outside of the bus, growing closer, and you imagined them seeing you as they walked in fresh from battle: a moaning, wanton whore on her knees, sucking their leader’s cock.

It was too much--your fingers dipped between your legs, and you teased your clit, sobbing in pleasure. Your Commander growled and pulled out, tucking himself away, and you sputtered, both hands bracing the floor while you gulped down oxygen.

“Dirty fucking slut.” He crouched, elbows on his knees, and grabbed your face. “You want them to watch me fuck you.” His thumb traced your swollen lower lip. “Don’t you?”

The doors to the bus opened. And your smirk drew up in a sneer.

“If you think you can handle other men looking at your property.”

Kylo Ren seized you by your hair again. “I can do more than handle it.” Standing, he hoisted you to your feet. “I’ll order it.” He tossed you into the aisle with such force that you stumbled, knees scraping the floor.

The Knights ascended the steps, stopping mid-board. Humiliation scorched your nerves, you strangled a moan at the thought of how you must appear--robe splayed open to reveal your underwear, your face moist, hair mussed--and how obvious it would be to them what you’d just been doing. You swallowed your desire as the half that had climbed onto the bus now stood in silence observing you, a broken-wing bird, at the mercy of her ravenous Commander.

“Get on. Sit down.” Kylo’s voice was eerily calm behind you--the Knights filed in, stuffing themselves together around the tiny table and couch. “This is your entertainment, tonight.” His boots resonated with his approach. “If there’s even an inch of movement toward her, I will bleed you dry on the Buzzard and leave your body for worms.”

They nodded, but did not reply.

“Now.” He wove his fingers through your hair again, and you winced, scalp tender. But he whirled you around anyway, shoving your nose into his crotch. His cock strained against his pants. “Where were we?”

You bit your lip, sliding your hands up his strong thighs. “I don’t remember, Commander.” What you were doing was incredibly devious, and certifiably insane. But the thought of embarrassing him in front of his men was a small salve on your fury. And the temptation of the consequences had your body demanding more. “It must not have been very... impressive.”

Kylo snarled and slammed your back to the weapon cabinet, grinding his covered cock into your face. “What was that?” he said. “Answer carefully.”

Heartbeat in your ears, you mouthed at the fabric of his pants, gazing at him. “I said,” you replied, nuzzling the bulge with your cheek, “that it must not have been very--” you dragged your tongue along the length, “--impressive.”

“Hm.” His hand drifted from your head to your throat. “That’s what I thought.” He clamped down, knocking your skull on the cabinet and compressing your artery, and you wheezed, pressing your thighs together. “Strip.”

You stared into his mask, blood beating at your temples--you wanted to speak, but found no words.

“Hurry,” he said, “before you pass out.” The pressure increased. “Or I’ll have to do it for you.”

Now woozy, the back of your brain dared you to let him do it, but you figured passing out wouldn’t be smart to do while pregnant (getting slapped, thrown, and choked, however, apparently fine). You shuffled your robe down your shoulders, vision blurring while you unlatched the hooks on your bra and shimmied it onto the floor. The last articles were your boots and underwear, which required you to wriggle in his hold, the movement eating the edges of your sight--and then they were gone, and he released you, waiting as you collapsed, naked, against the storage.

The Knights’ heads were aimed toward you--and to your surprise, at least two were already rubbing themselves through their pants. Your cunt pulsed.

“Now.” A gloved hand slid into your hair again, leather tugging at the strands, while his other hand wrestled free his hard cock, the tip gleaming with pre-cum. “Where were we?”

He rammed into your mouth, and you shuddered, ignoring the urge to vomit, your delighted moans hiccuped by the vigor of his strokes. Drool doused your chin, coated your lips, and your bleary focus wandered to his soldiers, one of whom had leaned back, his chest rising, another palming himself faster. They were watching you, watching you get throat-fucked by the man who owned you, watching as you bloomed a film of sweat, watching as you loved it, your pleading, wretched face begging to be abused.

“See how badly they want you,” he muttered. “But you’re mine. It’s all--fuck--all for me…”

Another reminder--Kylo Ren was going to keep you, he did not want to let you go, and would never, ever see you as you saw him--but you ignored it, choosing to suffocate yourself in desire instead, to stave off this stupid fucking reality where you were a stupid fucking slave in stupid fucking love with her stupid fucking Commander.

Eager to dust away the cobwebs of your misery, your hand snuck between your legs, ghosting over your folds to tease your clit, and you groaned, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Kylo snickered.

“Look at you,” he said. “Such a whore for me. Willing to--to make yourself cum in front of a group of masked men.” He jammed his dick deep, pressing your nose to his pubic bone, and you flailed, choking on him. “Is that what you want, slut? For everyone to know what you look like when you cum?”

You tried to nod, or to agree in any way--because yes, fuck yes, you wanted his men to watch you cum for him, to have them envy you and him and have them stroke their cocks and spill their seed while they dreamed of fucking your pussy and--

Perhaps pregnancy hormones were more powerful than you’d initially thought.

Kylo slipped out of you again, and you gasped, panting, wiping the sheen of sweat from your forehead, smearing the spit from your mouth. It had already dribbled onto your tits. Every part of your body felt swollen, and every part of your body wanted release. A leather finger tilted your chin toward his visor.

“Then we’ll make you cum.”

He laid you out on the aisle and spread your legs, and you craned your neck back, meeting a wall of the Knights, seated in a half-circle, all focused on you. You licked your lips, hoping to entice them--and then two gloved fingers pried open your folds, and before you could brace, they drove in, filling your pussy. Crying out, you shivered, clenching around him, hips gyrating to seek more of his touch.

Kylo’s breath quickened, his thumb circled your stiff clit, pleasure sweeping over you, and you twisted your neck, wanting a better view of the front of the bus. One of the Knights was guiding two digits up and down his shaft, another working himself free, the rest now prepping themselves, waiting to touch their cocks. The sight shuddered you, made you writhe, made your core throb and your flesh burn.

“Desperate whore.” He swirled your nub faster--you throttled a moan. “See what I do to you.” His fingers curled and twisted inside of you, petting your walls. “You’re ready to cum for faces you’ve never even seen.”

“Jesus.” Three of the Knights were stroking themselves, now, one of them fully fisting his shaft, pumping it in rhythm with Kylo’s hand. Heat blazed your thighs, forcing you toward ecstasy. “Fuck. Commander…”

Kylo grunted, a needy noise in his throat. “There we go,” he said. “Who else can make you cum like this?” He snapped his wrist, a third gloved finger pushing inside of you, his thumb tracing your clit, and you whined, back arching, air cycling faster in your lungs. “Tell me you want to stay.” You heard a soft shuffle beyond your waist--you knew he was jerking off. “Tell me, and I’ll let you cum.”

Flames flicked your neck, ire popping your bubble of bliss. Did he think he was winning? You swiveled to meet his vacant gaze. “I can cum whenever I want.”

Switching motions, he scissored you wide, drawing zig-zags on your throbbing clit. “Don’t test me.”

You snarled and rolled, his hand pulling out when you staggered to your feet. It didn’t matter, in that moment, that you were naked and he had the capability to pulverize you under his heel--you wanted to piss him off, wanted him to feel even a fraction of the frustration that you felt, wanted him to destroy you as desperately as you wanted to destroy him.

Kylo stood, his arm shooting toward you, and you slapped him away, spitting at him again--he snagged your wrist and thwacked your cheek, and you howled, daggering your knee into his thigh. A feral noise tore through the mask; he clasped the back of your neck, lifting and smashing you into the weapons cabinet, massive chest pinning you there.

“Get off!” You pounded your fist into the helmet, pain echoing to your elbow. “Fuck!”

He grunted, collected your wrists in one hand and pinned them above your head, the other shoving two fingers into your mouth until he reached the back of your tongue. “Be good,” he said, “or I’ll do whatever I need to do to make you.”

You leered at him, steeled your jaw, and bit down on his hand.

Before you could breathe, that hand crushed your throat, and he knocked your thighs apart with his knee, impaling your cunt on his cock. He drove into the hilt with a growl, and you sobbed in pleasure-pain against his grip, a sharp sting, your pussy stretching for his thick, hard length. Kylo pumped into you, ruthless, primal, his chest swelling with rapid air, as if he was possessed, every thrust pushing shaky noise from your lungs.

“That’s right.” His hips collided with yours, thumb toying with your pulse, his voice ragged with desire. “Now you’ll behave, won’t you?”

Whimpering, you gasped, the unsteady bloodflow buzzing your lips and cheeks. He flattened your wrists to the cabinet, grinding your joints to the aluminum, his weight compressing your ribcage, his strength holding you still. The drag of his dick inside of you was enough to make you wail, but the ferocity, the animalistic savagery in his thrusts had your cunt throbbing, spasming, ready to cum without him touching your clit. In seconds, he’d tamed you, drenched you in sweat, submerged you in ecstasy, dangling you at the edge of submitting to his authority.

Kylo eased off your neck. “Look at them.”

Straining, trembling, you did--and met six men, all huffing, all enraptured. Two had stood, hunched as they stroked their cocks, others leaned back, fucking into their fists, another one trailing his palm up and down his shaft. You ruptured with lust and groaned in satisfaction, throwing your legs around Kylo’s waist, taking the brunt of his fast, vicious thrusts.

“Fuck, yes.” He brutalized your cunt, hammering into it. “They want you. They want what I have.” Like a spark, you felt it--his gaze meeting yours from behind the mask. "They envy me. Am I not enough?”

You wheezed, drawing in quickened air. “N-no,” you said. “And you--you alone n-never will be.”

His fingers bit your flesh--he lifted you from the wall, supporting your ass and cradling your skull before he crushed you onto the aisle, sliding his cock deep into your wet cunt. Kylo hissed in pleasure as you sheathed him to the base, gliding out and driving in, skin smacking while he tugged you into his heaving, rabid frame.

“Fucking whore,” he muttered, burying the muzzle of his mask in your neck. “Why do you want to leave?” The words were pins through his teeth. “Why do you always want to leave?”

You wanted to respond, but the pace of his hips stole your breath, your words, your jaw dropped with pathetic whines. All you could do was let him fuck you into the floor, body bouncing with his force, elated to exist as a loyal, greedy hole.

“I’m going to destroy you,” he growled. “I’m going to split this pussy wide, and I’m going to pump you full of cum.” He groaned, shivering from his own words. “And when I’m done, my men will cover you in it, bathe you in it--fuck--like the filthy, vile slut you are.” The hand at your head grasped your hair, scraped your scalp, the other slipping between your legs, expertly rubbing the engorged bundle of nerves. “Now beg to cum.”

“God!” You squirmed in delight, orgasm swelling inside of you, begging to gush out over your flesh. But you wanted, needed just a little, tiny bit more. “Fuck you!”

Kylo leaned up, bolted one hand to your waist, while the other reeled back and cracked you like lightning across the face--your mind went black, your eyes went white, and inside of your mouth, your teeth went red.

“Beg for it!” He pummeled your pussy, stroking your clit, jerking you into each snap of his hips. “Fucking beg!”

“Christ!” At the edge of your sight, you could see the Knights, their cocks pink and throbbing, all ready to cum, all ready to shower you with it. “Please, please Commander, please make me cum!”

His hand shifted, a gloved seam skated your nub--you shattered, back lifting from the aisle, limbs trembling as euphoria burst into your blood. The pain, the violence, the passion, all of it needled into your climax, stretching it through your skin, crumbling into powerful aftershocks as Kylo pounded you through it. Then his hips stuttered, a low, bellowing sound escaping his mask; he thrust once, twice, three times, cock twitching at your core as he came, spilling his seed inside.

Through his panting breath, he pulled out, barked an order. “Cum on her face. Paint her like a whore deserves.”

Still floating to reality, your gaze strayed from the floor, only to be met with six men tromping to encircle you, jerking their dicks with feverish focus. You blinked, whined, biting your lip--and they broke, cursing and choking in bliss as they splattered your face with load after load of cum. Hot, sticky streams roped over your forehead, your nose, your mouth, a particularly hard shot splashing down your neck and across your tits. They gasped as their climaxes left them, cocks bobbing with the tail-ends of pleasure, viscous drops dripping onto your skin.

With the final adornment of seed, they collected themselves, muttering under their masks--likely for their own benefit, rather than yours--as they tucked themselves away and meandered back to the front. In the death throes of your exhibition, you were quaking, overcome with a sudden, desperate need to sleep. Your mind plummeted into a hole, exhaustion overcoming you, actual, real-life ramifications trickling into your consciousness.

Your scalp throbbed, your face burned, you ached at every exposed joint. You swallowed--your mouth had bled, too, a bit. Making to move, you winced, finding it too difficult, resigning yourself to curl up on the Buzzard’s floor. To any observer--and perhaps, in a way, even to you--Kylo Ren had just beaten and fucked the shit out of you. And yet you couldn’t imagine, in just this single moment, being any more sated or satisfied.

Large leather hands lifting you up tore you from your reverie, and you grunted out a sigh, adjusting as your Commander gathered you in his arms. The latent pain in your heart rejected this--you didn’t want his faux-affection, didn’t want him to pretend he cared. Not when you knew he refused to let you go.

Yet you could barely summon the energy to move yourself, and the drying globs of cum were wearing out their novelty. So you relaxed, plopping your head onto his shoulder.

Kylo carried you to one of the beds and sat, supporting you on his lap, shifting until his back was along the wall and your legs splayed over the mattress. He grabbed a towel that was folded over the bunk divider and wiped you clean, guiding the thin cloth over your semen-stained face. The movements were slow, tentative, swiping away the drool, sweat and cum, pausing when he passed a tender point of tissue. His breath was steady and even, the mask offering you nothing but an empty, vacant, stare.

Kylo Ren’s eyes had been the only way you had been able to know, or begin to guess, what was rolling through his mind. Now they were shielded, a barrier cleaving your connection in half. And denied his eyes, you were blinded, blinded from hope and joy and the open door to shared escape, left with a mockery of the man you knew.

You were going to fight the tears--there would be no crying now, not tonight or in future nights, for someone who did not want to see you free. But his strength was soothing, his hands a comfort, his presence more intoxicating than any other substance you’d known. He maddened you, pitted you, shimmered in your mind like a faraway star; he was your monster and your warrior, the eye of his own typhoon.

Every thread of your being was sewn irrevocably into his skin. And you when you shredded them clean, the both of you would bleed, pouring from patterned holes until you drowned in the pools of your own foolish dream.

Once he was finished, he sighed, that knife-stare slitting through you a final time before he rolled you off of his lap, leaving the bed while he guided you onto the mattress. You laid there, gazing at him in the dim bus light, one thousand heartbeats in your flesh. Kylo stepped away to grab your robe, and then returned, draping it over your tired frame before stopping to stare again. You wished he would hold you. You knew that he couldn’t.

“You’re not keeping me,” you whispered, “or our child.” You met his invisible eyes, unafraid. “I’m going to find a way to leave.”

Kylo tilted his head and crouched low, tucking away a lock of hair that had stuck to your forehead. He studied you, cupped your cheek in his palm, thumb caressing the bone, before releasing you, rising to his feet.

“We’ll see, little bird.” His voice was quiet, wickedly certain. “We’ll see.”

As he returned to the front, your lids fluttered shut, the night sweeping you into its embrace. Your cheek tingled, glittering with the ghost of his affection, your mouth fighting the smile that was sneaking onto your face.

#kylo ren smut #kylo ren x reader #kylo x reader #kylo ren imagine #kylo ren #kylo trash #little bird #fanfiction problems #handmaid au #tw: violence #tw: dubious consent

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otonymous · 5 years

Text

The ABCs of Gavin (NSFW)

In honour of the Aerial Sweetheart™’s birthday on July 29th, please enjoy Gavin’s NSFW ABCs! 🥳

Warning: NSFW/18+: Explicit/graphic language - reader discretion is advised.

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Gavin will pull you against his chest to hold you close, pressing his forehead against yours and planting soft kisses on your face, your sweat merging together as your heart rates slow as one

While you’re washing up, Gavin will quickly fly to get your favourite eats and be back even before you’ve stepped out of the shower

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Gavin is particularly proud of his abs. Have you seen them? They’re absolutely delicious. Go ahead and trace the muscles with your tongue. He’s more than happy to let you.

The real reason he likes them is that he loves the look of utter desire that comes over your face whenever he takes off his shirt. He loves the way you see him.

Gavin finds the nape of your neck absolutely irresistible

Every time you sweep your hair to one side or gather it into a ponytail, his gaze is instantly drawn to that delicate area, his eyes following the lines of your body as they curve out gracefully into the slope of your shoulders

He loves to press soft kisses to the nape of your neck, hold you close from behind to nuzzle his face into the area and inhale deeply, relishing the tickle of your soft strands against his cheeks

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum)

Nothing makes Gavin happier than the thought of you one day carrying his child, so he loves to give you that creampie (don’t worry, he would totally ask for your consent first!)

Outside of cumming in you, Gavin also enjoys ejaculating on your stomach while imagining it swollen with his seed

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Gavin has curated quite the collection of porn (and the protagonist always bears some physical similarity to you)

The Aerial Sweetheart™ has had to amass material to help maintain his sanity during extremely long dry spells while he was patiently waiting to reconnect with you

He was extremely embarrassed when you first found out (you’ve never seen anyone turn that red), but now the two of you love tuning in together, sometimes laughing while critiquing the storylines, which typically involve a delivery girl delivering an empty pizza box (oops! 😉)

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Gavin isn’t particularly experienced, seeing as he’s been waiting for you ever since he first laid eyes on you in that downpour as a high schooler

The officer has had a couple of relationships in the past (it was bound to happen, with all the women throwing themselves at him and his super hot body), but they never lasted long because you were always in the back of his mind

BUT that doesn’t mean he doesn’t know what he’s doing — Gavin is driven to pleasure you and keep you more than satisfied in the bedroom/on the rooftop/on his motorcycle

You may be surprised, given that Gavin doesn’t strike you as being particularly talkative, but he is quite communicative during sex (e.g. “Does this feel good? Do you like it when I touch you here?”) - especially when he’s first getting to know your body and preferences well

This sweetheart just really wants to pleasure you and treat you like the queen that you are

F = Favourite Position

Your man is a big fan of the Missionary position, because it gives him the freedom to control the speed and depth of his thrusts (by shifting the position of your legs), but also enables him to see each and every beautiful expression of ecstasy that flits across your face in response to the way he moves within you

This position also allows him to embrace and kiss you just as deeply as he’s fucking you

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc.)

Gavin tends to be more serious in the moment. He can’t help it: he has wanted you for much of his life and still needs to pinch himself every now and then to make sure he’s not dreaming when you’re lying in his arms

When your feelings run that deep, you’re typically not in the mood to laugh

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

The officer is well-groomed and scrumptiously clean

The colours match

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Sex with Gavin can be so sweet that the man literally has you crying from the sheer force of his passion for you

This officer is a man of action: he communicates with every kiss, every touch, every thrust — his body is telling yours the extent of his love and affection in ways that words never could

Gavin cannot stop kissing you, even when you’re both moaning with ecstasy into each other’s mouths. Expect him to lay soft kisses on your eyelids, trace the angles of your jaw with his lips until they lead them back to yours, already open and waiting for his tongue to slip back in

He loves to gather your hair into his palm and press his lips reverently to the silky strands before deeply breathing in its scent

Gavin finds it incredibly hard to hold back when he sees your tears; hang on tight, because you’ll be in for a rough (and sexy) ride

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

On average, the officer will masturbate 2-3 times/week, sometimes more, sometimes less, depending on whether or not he’s had the chance to engage in some sexy times with you and how busy he is with his top-secret duties

Gavin would die if you ever found out but…he enjoys setting up a comfortable atmosphere by lighting some scented candles before he touches himself

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Gavin loves to fuck you on the rooftops of buildings

He enjoys the way you cling to him for dear life as he’s propelling you through mid-air

He’s also found that you get incredibly wet when he’s got your skirt hiked up around your waist and your panties in his back pocket, thrusting hard and fast into you from behind as you grip the railing at the ledge, eyes focused on the lights of the city below without actually seeing anything through your haze of ecstasy

Feel free to give voice to your pleasure as loudly as you want — with the wind whipping, no one will hear you, and that’s another reason why Gavin takes you up so high in more ways than one

Also, although it’s a bit small on him now, Gavin has saved his high school uniform and was hoping you did too. Perhaps you could reenact the moment of your first meeting? 😉

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Gavin enjoys his sexual exploits in high places (see Kink above)

Has also been known to lay you out on his motorcycle

To be honest, your apartment is still his favourite place: it’s private, he doesn’t have to feel rushed while making love, but he also loves to learn about you by looking at what you keep close: the dog-eared copy of The Little Prince on your shelf, the bite marks on the caps of your pens, the faded teddy bear from your father that you would never throw out no matter how tattered or torn, the snacks you keep on the tallest shelf in the pantry (and the step stool conveniently located nearby)

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Officer Gavin’s greatest motivation and biggest turn on is your love for him

Nothing gets him harder faster than knowing you desire him like he desires you

Want to really unleash the beast in the bedroom? Tell him he’s the love of your life, your soulmate, that he’s the first thought in your mind when you wake and the one you see in your dreams, because then, Gavin will know he’s not the only one who feels that way

Gavin also loves to see you in his clothes: that loose white tee, his unbuttoned uniform — preferably with nothing on underneath

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

Like the other boys, Gavin refuses to share you with another person (please don’t ask him to, he will die on the inside)

Gavin also shies away from more extreme kinks that may result in bodily injury to you (he can barely bring himself to spank you, and once he does, he’s immediately rubbing the reddened area and soothing it with kisses)

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Officer Gavin likes to give as good as he gets

His oral game is strong, but fingering is his specialty

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Gavin can do both

He tends to get fast and rough when you whisper words of love in his ear — it’s like a dam on his emotions breaks and he’s unable to hold back

Note that Gavin will never, ever, be needlessly rough. Never.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Gavin prefers extended lovemaking sessions, but is also down with quickies (see Kink, above)

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

The man is down with experimenting up to a certain extent. As mentioned in “No” above, he draws the line at anything that could cause you bodily harm

Other than that, he’s willing to try new experiences (he’s pretty much willing to do anything for you)

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

Gavin. Is. A. Machine.

He’s ready and willing to go for as many rounds and as long as your body can stand, if you’re up for it

Not gonna lie, he came pretty quickly the first time you had sex, out of sheer excitement (Gavin’s internal monologue: “Oh my god I can’t believe this is actually happening am I really making love to my dream girl omg omg omg…”)

BUT you best believe he ain’t no One-Minute Man (don’t worry, in addition to magic fingers, Gavin also has a habit of going south when transitioning to different positions so things stay nice and wet and comfortable)

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Gavin does not have toys to use on himself. He has scented candles, his imagination (Psst! He’s thinking of YOU) and his hand thankyouverymuch

You know Gavin will pretty much do anything you want, so if you wish to include toys in your sexual repertoire, your man will oblige

Bonus points: take him with you to a sex shop to peruse the goods and watch him grow uncomfortably red

U = Unfair (How much they like to tease)

Gavin’s not really one for teasing, inside or outside of the bedroom

The extent of his teasing will be limited to whipping through the air or going faster on his motorcycle, just to get you to press closer to him

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

The officer tries hard to rein in his volume, but finds it difficult to keep his voice down, especially if his climax is close.

Gavin’s biting his lower lip, breathing hard through his nose, furrowing his brows from a mixture of both ecstasy and concentration, but the odd moan and groan still manages to escape

The sound of his low voice in your ear drives you wild

There have been times when you could’ve sworn you heard Gavin softly whimper when he came

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Gavin loves your scent so much that he secretly purchased a bottle of the perfume you regularly wear just so he can inhale it deeply and think of you when his longing is particularly bad

He keeps it at the bottom of his underwear drawer please don’t go looking for it

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Average girth and slightly above-average length, with a slight upward curve

Uncut

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Gavin’s sex drive is a bit higher than average

Hence, whenever he insists that you cover up in public, it’s to keep himself in check as much as the prying eyes of others

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

It really depends on the time of day

During daylight hours, Gavin typically encourages you to sleep in his arms while he closes his eyes and rests for a bit without actually falling asleep

To be honest, Gavin is always on the alert for anything that could pose a danger to you, so even if he does nod off, he’s an extremely light sleeper and has been trained to be mentally and physically prepared to face anything at all times

If you’re spending the night together, Gavin will wait until you’re in deep, peaceful slumber before he will allow himself to sleep, just in case he needs to soothe you if you have any nightmares

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missstormcaller · 5 years

Text

CAN’T FEAR YOUR OWN WORLD Vol. II Part 16 Full Translation

This is 4/4 of part 13 on the app (chapter 14 continued)

Rukongai

"What's the big idea with this thing!? We're not about to get dragged into this ridiculous dispute are we!?"

At the words of Candice who has gotten caught up in the aftershocks of Ikomikidomoe's struggle - the Zanpakutō which had taken the appearance of a gargantuan Hollow - Meninas replies in her usual manner.

"We were more or less dragged into it from the very beginning, I think…."

"But still, weren't we told in the beginning to simply knock the lights out of that so-called Fullbringer lot and then snatch them away!? So why in the hell are we now getting dragged into this conflict between a freak who looks like its had all kinds of overgrown Hollow condensed into it, and a bunch of Arrancar!? Come to think of it, didn't the number of Arrancar just double without us noticing!?"

Whilst using her lightning to crush the rocks that were being flung into the air, Candice pointed at the two female Arrancar who had newly emerged.

"Speaking of which, what's the deal with their style!? There's way too much emphasis on their figures don't ya think!?"

"Candice, you can't really speak for others though can you?"

Meninas spoke whilst observing the Holy Knights uniform belonging to the Quincy who had her chest on open display, but pretending that she didn't hear that, Candice initiates a counter-attack.

"Anyway, if this monstrosity isn't stopped first and foremost, then we won't be able to continue with our task."

Although they also had the option of making a brief retreat, it did not appear likely that Kurotsuchi Mayuri would tolerate such a thing.

That being the case, they should probably battle the gargantuan threat by taking advantage of this confusion, and at the same time, watch for an opportunity when the Fullbringers are off their guard. Even if it was impossible to capture the Fullbringers this time around, it was still a chance to analyse how their opponents fight among other things.

Thinking as much, Candice proceeds with the battle whilst paying mind to whether or not Ginjō's group would make an escape.

"Meni! Create an opening!"

"Alright."

Upon nodding in understanding, Meninas made an approach towards the feet of the great Hollow with slow movements, she slipped herself into a position that was located in her opponent's blind spot.

Then, the muscles in her arms that were still in their normal state are instantly made to swell, using her might she lifts upwards.

Just with that alone, the huge physique of 'Ikomikidomoe' is violently thrown off balance, and in a chain reaction, Ikomikidomoe is scooped up from the ground and sent tumbling down with great force.

"Ha! Nice work! Leave the rest to me!"

In a manner that appeared to aim for the spot where the opponent's balance had been weakened, Candice fired a volley of arrows entwined in lightning.

Moreover, as if to indicate that it was the finishing blow, she cast down the same "Electrocution" that was unleashed upon Ginjō and the others a short while ago.

The barrage of assaults, that were hammered out with lightning speed momentum in a very literal sense, blanket the surroundings with a dazzling light.

"That was close…! What the heck are those two doing! Do they not care that I'm also standing here!?"

Having evaded the lightning strike by a hairbreadth, Hirako exclaimed aloud as a cold sweat trickled down his cheek.

"Aren't those the Quincies that became Mayuri's subordinates!? …Yes, that's right. I should've known that Mayuri wouldn't worry about the welfare of myself or other fellow Shinigami."

Coming to accept this realisation by himself, Hirako maintains even more of a distance, he then shifted his gaze in the direction of 'Ikomikidomoe' who had been engulfed in the flash of the lightning strike, however——

"No good. There wasn't much of an effect."

'Ikomikidomoe' who had taken the form of a monster only moments ago, now adopted a spherical shape after folding its limbs, sitting neatly within the Rukongai as an ominous item of art.

In the next instant, a white haze gushed forth from the space around this colossal ball, and no sooner than that did an infinite number of small creatures sporting wings materialise out of said haze.

Though described as 'small', this is only in comparison with the mammoth build of Ikomikidomoe; the creatures who would appear to be Adjuchas level Hollows from outward appearance, begin to take flight into the air as a swarm.

Then, as if it were a protective response, they lunged directly at the aggressors —— at the pair known as Meninas and Candice.

Looking down at the Zanpakutō which continues to generate these small-scale 'terminals' spawned in the dozens, and hundreds, Hirako pulled a frown as he corrected his own perception of the matter.

"…I guess I was mistaken in calling it a huge robot huh."

Whilst maintaining the utmost vigilance towards Hikone who commands that Zanpakutō, and towards the man known as Tsunayashiro Tokinada who bestowed such a Zanpakutō upon the child, he continues speaking.

"This is like an entire 'country' sprouting legs and moving. It's not something we can deal with using orthodox methods."

As Hirako calmly dissects the state of affairs, Candice's group is forced into a disadvantageous position before they could even get a grasp on the situation.

"How can there be a Zanpakutō like this!? Or maybe I should be asking if this thing is really even a Zanpakutō at all!?

"That might be a little problematic huh…."

Using Heilig Pfeil the two continue to shoot through the swarm of beasts that were advancing towards them, however, much to the pair's regret, the enemy's numbers were far too many.

Meninas hit back with superhuman strength, and Candice with the power of her lightning strikes, yet in this current situation the creatures continue to be spawned with momentum that transcends their own, and moreover, there had hardly been any damage incurred on the main unit itself.

With a Galvano Javelin in each hand —— spears created by Reishi imbued lightning bolts —— Candice strikes the creatures down, however their numerical advantage far exceeds the quantity which could be dealt with effectively using only two blades.

"Crap…! If only I could use the power of my Vollständig…."

Originally Candice was able to manage six blades by utilising the wings produced by her Quincy Vollständig, but because of Yhwach's 'Auswählen' she ended up no longer being able to invoke Vollständig, as a result she has now become limited to handling two blades.

What's more troubling is that it was by no means the case that these creatures were charging at them in a wild and tactless fashion, rather they come in for the attack whilst calculatedly catching the girls off guard through controlled movements, almost as though they were a single organism despite being a swarm.

Although they are annihilated in one fell swoop by the lightning strikes firing in rapid succession from the sky, it was but a drop in the ocean.

"tch… did that just stir up a hornet's nest…?"

Though her exhaustion is quite significant after the barrage of assaults from a short moment ago, on the basis of acknowledging that, Candice attempts to unleash her 'Electrocution' once more, and in that very moment ——

"Just drop it. Your Blut Arterie will end up being burnt out before anything."

A voice which struck a familiar chord, rattles her eardrums.

"Whaa…?"

What exactly does it mean that this voice could be heard in such a place?

Before Candice's mind could process that thought, the 'answer' took form and came sweeping in to wolf down the swarm of beasts.

A long and narrow jaw that had made a sudden appearance, swallowed up several hundreds of these grotesque figures in a single breath.

As the abnormal jaw that had preyed upon the white beasts retracted back into a mouth, the owner of the voice gave utterance to her impressions of what she had consumed just now, coupled with a languid sigh.

"It's the same with those skeletal bastards from the other day… just as I thought, mass-produced goods are flavourless."

Floating in midair, is a young girl whose distinctive cold eyes peeked through from under her white Sternritter military cap.

After observing her form, Candice opens her eyes wide and gives a yell.

"Li…Lil!?"

Common sense would dictate that It was an impossible sight.

Having been separated over half a year ago, her companions looked for ways to somehow make contact with her from their position, however she had appeared before them ahead of anything that could actually occur.

In response to a stunned Candice, the girl with the cold eyes —— Liltotto Lamperd —— uttered a complaint in an exasperated tone.

"Jeez, the plan was to try and collect you by taking advantage of all the commotion, but it turns out your sorry asses are right in the middle of that commotion so just what the hell am I supposed to do now? What a drag."

"I-It's you! How are you here? Perhaps, you've come to help us!?"

"Didn't I just say that I've come to collect you? Listen when people talk bitch."

"I mean, you're really alive…. After I heard that you had turned against His Majesty, I… I thought for sure you'd-…"

Having even held onto the suspicion that, in the worst case scenario, Kurotsuchi Mayuri had lied about Liltoto and the others being alive, Candice raises her eyes to Liltoto with an expression that was a mix of relief and astonishment.

"Don't call that bastard 'Majesty'. Either way, it seems he's long gone."

As Lil said so, another voice could be heard coming from behind Candice.

"Wow, you're looking more rough than I expected. Too lame huh, Candice chan?"

With a twitch, a vein throbbed at her temple, before she could even rejoice at their reunion, Candice threw a backhand blow.

"Gigiii!"

Whilst effortlessly evading her fist, the black haired Quincy —— Giselle Gewelle —— raised her voice in protest as she smiled with only the corner of her mouth.

"Eh, don't drag out the end of your words, you make people's names sound like 'old man' you know." (TN: -- When Candice drags out Gigi's name above it sounds exactly like "じじ��" which means "old man")

"It's wrong that you made Gigi mad just now."

Without exuding even a trace of an air that could be described as anything akin to a touching reunion, Meninas spoke in her usual manner.

"Wait a minute! Don't you think you're also accepting this way too casually Meni!? It's not like I'm the only one who can't read the situation is it?"

"If you want to complain, why don't we catch a damn bite to eat later while it goes through one ear and out the other. Anyway, right now it looks like we have to find a way to deal with that trouble over there first."

The swarm of beasts continue to gush forth from the white haze as unchanged as before, but perhaps analysing the abilities of Lil's group who were the newcomers on the scene, the swarm's current stance was watching the group carefully whilst encircling them at a distance.

Then, Gigi tilted her head in response to Liltoto's words.

"Huh? Deal with them you say… shouldn't we just make a run for it?"

"…That was the plan. Even if we did run away as is, I suppose it would be pointless if there are also bombs implanted in Candi and Meni's bodies."

"…gah!"

Although Candice had taken this possibility into account, she was once again struck with terror by having it pointed out through Lil who is the brains among this group of friends.

Rather than address Candice herself —— Liltoto proposes a deal towards the person at the other end of the communicator that was fitted to her clothes.

"You can hear me can't you, Kurotsuchi Mayuri. I'll cooperate with your so-called experiment. So in return, I demand the release of Candice and Meninas."

It was at that point, that a very distinctive voice echoed across from Candice's regulation cap.

"Dear me, that you actually made the error of believing that you are in any position to negotiate with me, how very conceited of you."

"Whoa!?"

Disregarding Candice who was taken aback by the voice that had suddenly slipped out from atop her head, travelling across the communicator, the voice speaks with a dispassionate tone.

"I didn't implant the likes of bombs in the first place. Thanks to the Central 46 and the captain commander who can't adapt to the times, I was very recently prohibited from implanting bombs into the bodies of subordinates. So long as you bear the name 'unit', the lot of you too, can only be treated as soldiers rather than tools. Good grief, what an oh-so benevolent gesture."

"Since we're on the topic of bombs, could that not mean that you've tossed in plenty of other crazy stuff?"

"Do you really think so?… Never mind, Quincies are now curio. I have no intention of breaking them so easily."

"Hold on!? What's the deal with that vague wording!?"

Paying no heed to the cries of Candice, Lil calmly continues negotiations with Mayuri.

Without dropping her guard against the surroundings even while they negotiate, the small units of beasts that were charging towards them at random intervals as a diversionary tactic, is 'swallowed whole' each time as she expertly moved the conversation forward.

"What I want is merely the freedom of Candice and Meninas, and the guarantee of their safety. They can be exchanged with a handful of fighting potentials among us Quincy, that doesn't sound half bad right?"

"Once you've attained that level of pretentiousness, it goes beyond comical and one can only feel pity. You may be curios, but as far as I'm concerned, the likes of Quincies are an area of research that has been fully exhausted. Did you actually think that the lot of you had that much worth?"

"If Quincies don't have that much worth, then what does it matter to at the very least part with only two, Candi and Meni? I suppose that would just about cover the cost of doing your chores. Also, this concerns you. You've already implanted something within me and Gigi too either way, haven't you?"

"Huh?"

Gigi raises her voice at this unexpected information, but Mayuri's voice makes a blunt assertion with a nonchalant air.

"Oh, even if they're fools, I can't say I completely detest those who are quick on the uptake. That Quincy named Ishida didn't even have the slightest clue until I told him."

"Why thank you. I pray that you're also the type who's quick on the uptake."

In response to Lil who was holding her ground against Mayuri, the voice streaming through Candice's cap resumes speaking with stifled laughter.

"If I refuse you here, do you perhaps intend to take your negotiations directly to the captain commander? My, my, if Hirako Shinji wasn't present, I could've had you silenced in secret."

"Maybe I decided to go to the trouble of showing my face precisely because another captain rank is present?"

"Quite the clever-clogs aren't you? Good grief."

"The danger that you are has touched our very core after all. That he didn't include you among the Special War Potentials, I can only imagine that Yhwach was off his rocker."

Following Lil's words, the sound of a heavy sigh could be heard coming from the communicator fitted to Candice's cap.

"I make no concessions based on blatant flattery. Well, it's true that your ringleader's eyes were as good as blind however. It appears that even if he could forecast the future, he wasn't able to see the reality."

Then, in a somewhat upbeat tone, Mayuri offered a concrete proposal.

"I want to dig up as much data as possible on that colossal mutant of a Zanpakutō, as well as the mock-up Shinigami trial subject standing on top of it. If the lot of you can do that, then I will upgrade your treatment from test subjects to at least the level of mercenary. And if you also happen to capture the Fullbringers while you're at it, perhaps I can even help you grow taller as a special reward."

"Unnecessary. Even If my physique and whatnot got bigger, it would probably only make me get hungry faster. So to sum it up, it's going to be us knocking the wind out of that huge freak right?"

"I don't expect you to go that far. After all, if a subject could be brought down that easily by you lot, then I wouldn't be interested in it to begin with."

"Tch… you underestimate us."

Perhaps regarding it as a completion of the deal, Lil voiced her complaint, following this she poses a question towards the colossal sphere that towers heavenward.

"I wonder if you think the same? Freak."

In response to a confrontational Lil, Gigi who was listening from ground level speaks up.

"Hey Lil, I can't stand it. Helping that black and white clown and all."

It was at this point that Mayuri's voice shot out from Candice's cap in seeming astonishment.

"Even your brain tissue has finally rotted away has it? Zombie girl. The one I was negotiating with is that girl with the big appetite. I never put the likes of you down as a fighting power from the very onset, so you can just go ahead and rot wherever you like."

"…Does someone who stole another person's zombies have any room to talk though?"

"Save it for later. I don't think this is the kind of opponent you can defeat by mouthing off."

Calming Gigi who mumbled in a voice filled with deeply held resentment, Lil raises her eyes to 'Ikomikidomoe'.

"Whatever you do, first things first, we have to silence that behemoth."

"…If you say so."

Despite the smile playing on her lips, Gigi's eyes revealed that she had actually agreed reluctantly, after heaving a sigh she issues instructions to a shadowy figure standing at her back.

"Go for it, Bambi-chan."

"Uunhh… I, do my best. Because Candi, and Meni, everybody… here…."

Then —— the battlefield which had been engulfed in white lightning only a short while ago, is this time made to be blanketed in the tint of red explosive flames.

"It's that girl with the bombs!? They just had to bring along that bothersome individual huh!"

Watching the zombie girl who came flying out from Gigi's shadow, Hirako involuntarily raises his voice.

As recollections of the moment he was almost blasted to death in the past are vividly resuscitated in his mind, a cold sweat trickled down his forehead.

Reishi bullets, which are fired one after another by the girl with dark red skin, make contact with the creatures spawned from 'Ikomikidomoe' and cause her opponent's body tissue to convert into bombs.

The hot wind from the chain of explosions which subsequently gush forth, vaporised the sweat on Hirako who was standing at a distance.

"…Gah! As reckless as ever I see. What can I say, I guess this means, sooner or later, I'll also have to consider my next course of action…"

Hirako releases a sigh and places a hand on his Zanpakutō, he whispered to himself whilst contemplating whether he should join a side in battle here, or whether he should allow the dust to settle by contacting Mayuri who was stationed further away.

"That Momo should've reported to Kyōraku san, so there may be some action over there too."

"Oh man, this is turning out to be quite a disaster huh."

Not withdrawing, but not actively participating in the battle either, Ginjō's group avoid the ripple effect of the assault whilst observing the situation.

"If we're going to retreat, I think now is our chance right?"

With a shrug of his shoulders, Ginjō addressed Tsukishima's remark.

"That was the plan… but didn't that brat say 'I'll get you to acknowledge me as king' or something?"

"…I see, are you worried about that?"

When Giriko mentions this, Tsukishima also opens his mouth to speak as if to say he understood.

"Ah, it's about 'XCUTION' isn't it?"

The 'XCUTION' he spoke of is not the group of Fullbringers who were once assembled by Ginjō in the Human World, he is referring to the 'XCUTION' they had heard about a few days ago, a new religious organisation which is making its presence felt in the Human World.

Whilst recalling the information he had gathered in the last few days from the 'newcomers in Rukongai', Ginjō begins to reveal his own speculations.

"…Going by those guys fresh from death, apparently this religious cult organisation known as 'XCUTION' already has devotees in the hundreds of thousands… somehow or the other, I can only imagine that some Fullbringer or Shinigami has something to do with this."

According to the account he heard directly from someone who was a believer in their lifetime as luck would have it, details around such things as the Rukongai and the Shinigami Konsō being noted among them in the creed of 'XCUTION', was almost entirely consistent with the state of the afterworld.

It can be said with certainty that this creed which mentions everything from the existence of Shinigami, Rukongai and Seireitei to the existence of Hollows, Hell and Hueco Mundo, is something that could only be written by an individual who knows about the 'afterworld'.

Nevertheless, in its midst, there was one sole part which deviates significantly from reality.

To be precise, it is a part that depicts the future and it is not yet known whether or not it will come to be.

—— {A new king will be born from the shadows of a turmoil spanning a millennium, and reign over the three worlds respectively.}

At first, Ginjō was of the opinion that the religious cult were associates of the Quincies, and that the 'new king' was perhaps referring to Yhwach.

However, he has heard that Yhwach's purpose was not to rule over the three worlds, but to eliminate the boundaries of the three worlds itself and return everything to the original plane of existence.

He believes that this very passage of the mysterious prophecy is the key to grasping the identity of the other party, it was his intention to even bring up the matter with Hisagi, the self-styled 'journalist' who made his acquaintance just the other day, and draw out the opinion on the Shinigami side.

Yet before he could put this plan into action, a direct hint appeared before his eyes.

"Well… in that case, whose influence should we be focusing on?"

Ginjō was not looking at the monster of a Zanpakutō called 'Ikomikidomoe', rather he cast his line of sight towards the child manipulating it who gave its name as 'Hikone'.

At that point, he noticed something.

Noticed that one of the Quincies who appeared later, slipped through the storm of the bombing raid and drew closer to the child Shinigami.

"Hey, kid. You said your name is Ubuginu Hikone right?"

What entered Liltoto's eyes, is the form of Ubuginu Hikone standing atop an 'Ikomikidomoe' who remained unscathed.

Only a few moments ago, they should have been subjected to the lighting strike unleashed by Candice several times over, but putting the creature that is 'Ikomikidomoe' to one side, she is taken aback by the fact that even this Shinigami who is its master was unharmed, at the same time she intentionally opens up a dialogue in order to probe for information on the opponent.

"Oh! You're the Quincy lady who showed up at Hueco Mundo that last time! Long time no see! It's amazing that you'd actually eat up the kin of 'Ikomikidomoe'! It was a pleasure meeting you!"

"I didn't want to encounter you at all if possible. Didn't you say you were going to become king?"

"That's right! Ah, well, to be precise, rather than saying that I am the one who will attain this feat, it is Tokinada sama who is being kind enough to make me king!"

"On top of being some hand-me-down for orders, you'll be just a figurehead king? Isn't there something you want to do through your own damn will?"

Although her manner of speaking was akin to provocation, Hikone doesn't even seem to realise that it is what's known as sarcasm and thus replied with an innocent tone.

"There is! What I want to do are things that are useful to Tokinada sama!"

"…So if this Tokinada guy you speak of told you to 'die a painful death', would you go ahead and die?"

"Yes! I would do my very best to suffer as much as possible!"

"…Oh, I see."

—— Damn. Talking with this brat is going to drive me crazy.

—— The way it fanaticises about things reminds me of that asshole Lille.

—— Nah, I wonder if this is slightly different from that guy, rather than fanaticism… how shall I put it?

—— I get the impression that the damn kid was set up to be that way from the very beginning.

Lil believed that this did not seem like someone she could get through to, but even so, she continues to question the child all the more.

Aside from the goal of extracting information, she genuinely harboured a suspicion.

"There's something I want to ask you."

It was regarding a certain Reiatsu intermingling within Hikone, which Candice and the others also perceived.

"…Have you ever heard the name… Gremmy Thoumeaux?"

Gremmy Thoumeaux.

The name of a boy who is reputed to be the strongest Sternritter, in fact, it was said that in all likelihood, no one could hope to defeat him outside of Yhwach.

That he is described as a boy, is purely because the body he had imagined for himself was that of a young boy, in actuality, both sex and age were unknown.

His true form is only a brain floating within a small container; a Quincy who 'imagined' (created) his very own body by using the power of the Schrift V —— "The Visionary" given to him by Yhwach.

Making one's imagination transform into reality as it stands, is evidently a phenomenon close to the power of a god, in the life or death struggle against Zaraki Kenpachi, he conjured everything from a huge meteorite within Seireitei to the vacuum of outer space.

In the end, he imagined power that could overcome Zaraki Kenpachi and made it his own, but because he couldn't completely imagine a body that was able to withstand that power, it resulted in his self-destruction, he awakened from his dreams, and his brain ceased all function.

Lil caught sight of the moment Gremmy disintegrated with her own eyes, she was also able to confirm that his Reiatsu had come to a complete stop.

She had no idea what happened to the brain container thereafter, nor did she have any particular intention to go searching for its whereabouts.

However, it was a separate matter entirely if one could sense Gremmy's Reiatsu coming from the Shinigami before her.

Perhaps by some chance this Shinigami figure is a mere mimicry, and in truth, something formed after the living Gremmy had 'imagined' it, Lil had surmised as much before posing her question.

"Gremmy… Gremmy san you say…? Aha!"

Suddenly, after a brief moment of consideration, Hikone's face lit up.

"Yes, I know that name! Tokinada sama kindly informed me!"

"……!"

Not expecting the child to return a straight answer, Lil widened her eyes a fraction and waits for Hikone to continue.

However, what is then narrated from Hikone's mouth, was an answer that Lil doesn't really want to hear.

"Gremmy san was apparently… a member among the materials, used at the time of my creation! That's right!"

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superthatguy62 · 5 years

Text

A look at the FFIII Manga: Desch

There is many external media of the Final Fantasy series, taking various forms. The big games like 7 or 10 got spinoff novels that expanded and some may say hurt their overall worlds, but in the case of the NES trilogy, it just got adaptations in literature form. Memory of Heroes was a light novel released sometime ago novelizing all three NES games (though only I's details and changes have been noted in english sources) and II has a well known light novel that expands and even changes in some ways, the game's story. However, Final Fantasy I and III had manga adaptations long ago with III's being released simply a year after the game and running for two. Further interesting is that Kenji Terada, the scenario writer of the first 3 games had a hand in writing it. It's interesting, especially since it's absolutely bonkers. Which, honestly looking at the OG trilogy's stories and the II novelization, is probably par for the course. (Fun fact: Terada apparently had a hand in writing Batman: Dark Tomorrow. Take that as you will). It’s a different animal from the original game and especially the remake. And to illustrate that perfectly, let's start with Desch.

(Credit to FFwiki for this image)

Desch appears in the tail-end of Volume 1, revealed to be the force causing massive birds to attack Canaan Basque.The Light Warriors fight back, but Desch succeeds in incapacitating and capturing Muuchi (the Warrior-looking dude).

While Melfi stays behind to help Kenny’s sister (?) Jenny, who took a bullet from a bunch of angry townspeople, Doug and J. Bowie chase Desch to the Kingdom of Birds (Dragon’s Peak/Mount Jenora doesn’t exist apparently) where they learn that Desch can brainwash people with his birds and did so to Muuchi when he incapacitated him.

This leads to Doug (small guy in the silly get-up) and Bowie attempting to get Muuchi back by fighting Desch.

Spoilers: It doesn’t go well. Desch is shown to have powers over birds, along with trickery such as a blowgun. Not even fighting directly helps because as soon as J Bowie engaged him in physical combat:

...Yeah.

Meanwhile, Doug finds Muuchi, but the latter is so brainwashed that he doesn’t seem to respond. Desch eventually punches Bowie off of a cliff prompting Doug to save him with a bendy stick/flail that he used as a weapon previously. Unfortunately, Desch literally kicks Doug off of the mountain, taking Bowie with him. Melfi’s white magic powers seemingly cause her to sense what happened to her allies.

Doug and Bowie do survive though, and decide to lay low for a bit. During that time, it becomes clear that Desch forces his brainwashed soldiers to attack beasts, cutting them open to allow his birds to feed on their entrails.

Later that night, Desch rounds up his minions and has them fight a giant beast. When the beast is seemingly about to crush Muuchi (he ends up leaping out of the way) Doug and Bowie spring into action, defeating the beast before fighting Desch once more.

It should be noted that, up to this point, Desch has not used magic at all (unlike the remake and later portrayals where he’s as proficient at magic as he is with a sword) although-

You can argue he doesn’t really need it.

Desch sics his brainwashed soldiers on Doug while Bowie once again confronts him. This time, Bowie hits Desch with a magic blast that can be seen from afar.

Doug is soon approached by Bowie who, in turn, leads him to Desch. Desch doesn’t attack however, and simply gestures for the boys to follow him to what is most certainly not a trap.

In any case, Melfi has been haunted by nightmares ever since Doug and Bowie fell and she decides to follow them. She eventually finds a giant, weird monster.

She also finds Muuchi, who promptly tries to kill her. She then gets attacked by the monster itself, which promptly grabs her with its tendrils.

The monster soon begins grabbing not only her, but Muuchi as well. In a last ditch effort to get Muuchi to come to his senses, Melfi slaps him silly.

It doesn’t work.

Desch is revealed to be nearby and his minions bring Doug and Bowie (who were thrown in a jail cell and, in the case of the latter, held hostage by the soldiers. While Melfi is distracted by the sight of her allies, however, Muuchi punches her into the monster’s grasp, where she is promptly absorbed by it in horrifying detail.

Bowie takes it the hardest: So distraught is he over Melfi’s apparent demise, that he taps into his Black Magic prowess and unleashes a barrage of spells at the monster tree.

Unfortunately, Doug is barely able to warn Bowie of the spear coming at him until its too late. Thus, Bowie is speared and begins getting absorbed by the demon tree.

Things are looking bad for poor Doug...

But then, something happens. The area is buffeted by odd wind and then light particles begin falling like snow. This also has an effect on the baddies: The birds, the soldiers, even Desch himself suddenly begin attacking each other. Meanwhile, Muuchi reacts badly to the phenomenon, seeming to have a breakdown.

Desch’s henchmen then attack Muuchi and Doug. Doug holds his own, but Muuchi’s a bit too busy losing his mind. One of the soldiers grabs Muuchi, bulks up and tosses him into the tree, much like Muuchi did to Melfi.

Then, well, things get weird.

Melfi, in a weird nude spirit form, astral projects herself from... wherever she is inside the tree. We’re treated to some weird imagery (including a fetus tethered to the universe and Muuchi at various development stages of her life (baby, toddler, child, etc) along with planets surrounding a giant Melfi (all of this in her spirit form, though thankfully undetailed, mind you)).

She then awakens (?). Her spirit form grabs a sword and flies into action. Meanwhile, Doug has been overwhelmed and is about to be fed to the tree just like Melfi and his brothers were. Melfi’s spirit flies into the core of the tree and neutralizes it.

...Well, mostly.

Melfi tries her white magic, but it appears that they were too late. This is the end for poor Bowie...

Oh Bowie! *Seinfeld Theme plays as studio audience laughs*

The party finally finds the unconscious soldiers, including the man who started it all. Desch’s control over his birds is broken and the day is saved, essentially.

Then, Desch wakes up!

Oh Desch! *Seinfeld Theme plays as studio audience laughs*

But yeah, turns out, Desch was brainwashed by that monster thing and he’s actually a good guy. However, Doug’s still upset that Muuchi got lost in all of that madness and they don’t know where he is... until Doug looks down a nearby edge and discovers Muuchi lying in a pit.

By the end, the tree is no longer evil, the townsfolk are reunited with their loved ones and the Warriors of Light/The Wind have a new ally in Desch. That night on Cid’s airship, Desch tells the warriors of the Sorcerer Hein who was likely the one who corrupted the tree. The group then proceeds to head for the Living Woods, with Cid dropping them off and Desch accompanying them.

(To be continued in the Hein writeup...)

Overall, Desch is probably initially one of the most changed characters for the manga, though he gets a bit more familiar after he’s unbrainwashed. Granted, the manga came out only a year after the Famicom version and it wouldn’t be until the DS remake that Desch’s affinity for lightning magic and swords was established, but the bird thing still kinda comes out of nowhere (despite his somewhat affiliation with Dragons). On the other hand, Monk Desch is kinda interesting to see. He still seems to be an ancient though, given that seemingly mentions the Village Castle of the Ancients.

Oh, and while I forgot to scan it and I’m too lazy to right now show it, Desch’s ability to use birds isn’t limited to his evil state. He manages to call some birds to his aid during the initial battle with Hein, as ineffective as they are. Good Guy Nerf is in full effect.

Next Time: A Look at Cid Haze and Sara Altney, now that I have the first volume of the manga.

You may think the Djinn’s size there is for dramatic effect. It’s not; He actually is that big in the actual story.

This manga is weird.

#final fantasy iii #Final Fantasy 3 #Legend of the Eternal Wind #Manga #Desch #Muuchi #Doug #J. Bowie #Melfi #This manga is weird #FFIII #FF3 #Square-Enix #Adaptation

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iamrheaspeaks · 6 years

Text

High Heels

Erik x OC! (Thea)

Bold Italics: Inner dialogue

Word Count: ~1835

Warnings: None

Listening suggestions: “High Heels” by JoJo

A/N: This is my first time writing Erik and I have my reservations but this story was stuck in my head after listening to this song so I finally decided to just get it out. Lightly proofread/ edited. Enjoy💋

Part 2 Part 3

Without me boy you’ll always feel alone. Those words reverberated off the walls of Erik’s mind. Out of all the things he’d rather be doing tonight replaying the image of her leaving on a constant loop inside the confines of his broken psyche didn’t even make the damn list. Erik usually thought Thea was fucking sexy ass hell when she was angry but right now, right now he was trying not to match her level of RED.

“You really gonna be one of those dumb niggas? Not knowin’ what you got ‘til it leave and never come back?” Thea spat, the words racing off her tongue. At this point it was taking everything to keep the rage from fully consuming her and unleashing the beast pounding the cage keeping her heart within her chest. She wanted to lash out. To scream. To close the distance between them and get in his face. She wanted to, but Thea was smart and she knew closing the distance between them would do nothing but give Erik the upper hand, fuck that! Getting dicked down into submission was not on the menu. The radiating heat between them, her clinched fists serving as anchors weighing her arms down by her sides, the dead stare in her eyes was worse than daggers. All being more than enough of an indicator that she been pushed past her boiling point. Thea’s hard expression fading momentarily as she cracked a tiny smile chuckling before licking her bottom lip, “And to think…I thought you was smart.”

“Man, whatever Thea I ain’t fightin’ witcho ass. Next time don’t go through my phone. You won’t have to worry bout those bitches,” he barked back as his feet thud on the glass top of the black and gold coffee table, causing the coasters to slightly knock against each other in their holder. Hands clamped together in his lap trying to control his rising frustration with her tone. “Matter fact, give me my phone before you find something else to bitch in my ear about.” Had Erik been facing Thea he’d have seen that slight flicker that happened behind her eyes before they blew wide open with realization. Had Erik known that those words were the final nail in the coffin of their “relationship” maybe he’d of chosen them better. Thea’s rebuttal was silence. She simply walked towards where Erik was seated and placed his phone facedown on the table near his feet gently. She turned her head to see he was donning his signature smirk, the gold in his mouth outwardly reflecting how pleased he was with this supposed win. Thea retreated into their bedroom, door locking behind her. Erik left the apartment, that door slamming behind him. Thea shook her head “Erik…you’re such a dumbass”, sending her girls a group text.

I’m done! There’s nothing to fix here. Impromptu Garden Party girls! 👌🏾

Hours later Erik returned none the wiser of what was about to transpire. Thea called out from the kitchen, “Hey. Have a seat and I’ll fix you a drink”. Obliging her request Erik glanced into the kitchen on his journey to the couch. She had changed. Black dress with red accents all the way down to her stilettos. Recalling a conversation about a friend’s birthday coming up he thought nothing more of it.

A part of Thea was still shocked at the fact that she wasn’t as nervous or on edge about setting things into motion, but enough was enough. All right! It’s now or never. That’s all the self-pep she needed. Holding two glasses from the base in one hand and carrying a new bottle of Henny by the neck in the other. Thea sat down taking her spot next to Erik, body turned towards him causing her knee to graze his.

“So you done trippin ma?” Erik inquired sliding his phone into his pocket still slightly suspicious of her changed demeanor.

“Mmhmm” she replied glancing in his direction before returning to pouring them both a drink.

Noticing what she was filling both glasses with, “You drinking Henny!? Oh shit! I thought you hated it!” Erik teased, dimples on full display.

“I do. But tonight’s a special occasion baby” Thea smiled at Erik as she handed him one glass while twirling hers in the other before raising it to her lips taking a swig.

“And what might that be princess?” he asked wrapping his arm around her waist, trying to get her to confirm his assumption without actually asking.

Thea stared at Erik for a moment before smiling, simultaneously bringing her free hand to the bottom of Erik’s glass lifting it up towards his mouth, “Just drink with me” she cooed. Thea finished the brown liquor wincing at the burn momentarily, then placed her glass down and wiped the back of her wrist across her mouth to get the taste off her lips. Turning into Erik’s grasp, arm still latched to her she crashed her lips into his without warning. Erik’s taken by surprise but quickly recovered, stretching his arm in the direction of the table to disregard his drink. His full lips never leaving hers, loving the feeling. With his drink long forgotten next to her empty glass Erik went to match her intensity, his teeth sweetly tugging at Thea’s bottom lip until she allowed his tongue entrance. His other hand trailing up her side until his grip stilled at the back of her neck. Their tongues danced in unison causing Thea to let out a small whimper into the kiss. The sparked intensity between the two of them would be the thing she missed the most. His strong grip and mirrored emotion in this moment almost making her regret the dark cloud that hung over this otherwise perfect moment. Almost.

Erik’s hands growing restless once more with the same eagerness of a child wanting to explore their surroundings for the first time. Touching every part of her he could just like he has a million times before. Bliss filled moments pass before Thea grabbed Erik by both wrists. Removing his hands and holding them down on his knee closest to her, standing up before breaking the kiss. Thea walked around the back of the couch before leaning next to Erik’s ear just hovering there for an insignificant amount of time while scratching that spot at the base of his skull lovingly. His loose dreads swishing against her knuckles as her fingers danced beneath them, before abruptly ceasing contact. “Without me boy you’ll always feel alone”. It was barely audible even with their close proximity but her voice never faltered. Thea never meant to actually breathe the words aloud but the seed had been sown.

The cold crept in once her hand dropped and her frame faded out of his personal space. When the haze snapped and Erik realized what was going on he stood turning towards her direction in just enough time to see her place down her key and step out the door. Looking into her eyes for the last time as she shed a single tear. Rolling her lips mouthing a silent goodbye and closing the door before disappearing from his life. Thea had left Erik with nothing but loneliness and silence to fill the growing void. As much as he wanted to yell or scream or run after Thea and beg until she changed her mind… He had seen the finality in her eyes in that last moment. There was no changing her mind. Fuck! Erik internally screamed as he reclaimed his seat picking his drink back up. Sitting with Thea’s words swirling around his head as he tried to commit everything about her to memory…

Time Jump:

“And here I thought it was gonna be like pulling teeth to get you to finally come back here” Shay giggled in delight.

“You’re lucky you have good timing. Had you waited another month I wouldn’t of been able to fly out until after my little one vacated the premises” Thea joked while rubbing her belly with one hand and squeezing her husband Malachi’s knee with the other.

“Not like it matters. I would’ve just––” Shay stopped just as suddenly as she started, eyes stuck on something behind them.

“What were you about to say Shay the Spaz?” Thea chuckled at Shay’s sudden loss of words and then it happened. That voice, coating her body and sticking to her frame like honey. Causing Thea to still in attempt the hide the shudder her body was trying to release. The increase in her heart rate causing the baby to kick rapidly in response, “Hello Princess”.

Twisting in her seat while simultaneously removing her hand from Malachi’s knee to place a strong grip on his shoulder non verbally pleading he stay seated, before her sight fell upon Erik. No gold’s today but his smile was just as bright. Erik was made up in a black suit with white and gold ascents and his dreads had gotten noticeably longer. “Long time no see. I thought that was you I saw when I walked in”. He chuckled while instinctively rubbing the base of his head with his hand, calming the sudden tingle he felt there when they made eye contact.

Shay broke the silence amongst them, “Um…hello? What do you want Erik?”. This gained a hushed yeah from Malachi and he tried to not get defensive. Rolling his eyes at both Shay and Malachi’s antics Erik goes to speak but is cut off by Thea’s voice.

“Would you two mind giving us a moment?” looking her husband in the eyes before continuing, “Just wait for me right outside, yeah?” she smiled encouraging their departure and calming the rising tension. Erik took Shay’s seat directly across from Thea, taking all of her in. Something he couldn’t believe he got the chance to do again. Skin free of makeup, glowing radiance, beauty personified. But her smile trying to hide the obvious pain in her gaze. Both of them went to break the silence at the same time but her voice rang out first, “I–I’m sorry Erik”. Seeing the hint of confusion in his face Thea dredged on. “For what I said when I left. That was vial of me, especially knowing about everything you went through”.

“Nah…I didn’t come over here so you could be the one apologizin’ for shit,” Erik rebutted. But not giving him the chance to drone on further, Thea shifted in the seat so she could reach over the table without pressing her belly into it. Taking Erik’s jaw into her palm stroking his cheek to ease his brewing fury and calm his mind of all the things he was trying to get out at once. Erik melted into her touch. Something’s really never changed.

“I love you Erik” her voice a wisp in the thick air around them, “A piece of me will always be yours. That’s why I’m glad we were fated this opportunity so I can right this one wrong. And now I have”, Thea proclaimed through hot tears before once again breaking contact, lightly planting a kiss on his check where her hand had been, making her departure. Erik’s eyes glued to the condensation rolling off an untouched water glass on the table as he tried to contain his own tears.

“I love you Thea”.

Tags: @cancerianprincess @savagesensitivity @another-imaginesblog @loosewindmill @bidibidibombaclaat

#rheaspeaks #high heels #my work #my words #my writing #erik x black!oc #that time jump wasnt orginally planned #i had to force myself to post this #no turning back #be nice to me #rheaspeaks masterlist

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ratchet-and-clank-eu-project · 6 years

Text

Ratchet and Clank - chapter 2: Stranded

Entering atmosphere of planet Novalis

During the descent down to the planet, Clank was able to triangulate the source of the distress beacon to be the Tobruk Crater. Ratchet proved himself to be a natural pilot by riding the jetstreams all the way to the location, which, admiddately wasn’t far. Had it been any further, this plan most certainly gotten the both of them killed. Their luck was running out, however, as they were now once again spiraling out of control. Ratchet hit the eject button just in time to escape a crash that completely pulverized his five long years of work. He fell screaming, and landed with a dull thud on the ground. Luckily, the grass was soft and was able to cushion his landing. He looked around while clearing his dizzy head, and found that his metal companion had gone missing.

“Clank…? Where are you?” He heard a muffled “I’m right here” From below him, and rolled over and pushed himself to his feet to find Clank smushed into the grass below where he landed. “Oh! Sorry about that! Clank got up and joined at Ratchet’s side, and they both looked over the Tobruk Crater. In it’s floor was a grassy valley that was carved in half by a river. The sun shone brightly on the surface of the water. There was a small town at the end of the river where houses were on fire. Blarg ships buzzed overhead, dropping bombs and robotic goons on the helpless village. But the bombardment of the crater village was nothing compared to the assault going on at the city that they could see in the distance. Without a ship, they had no way to get there. “Well, we’re not leaving the way we came in.”

“Perhaps we could procure a ship from one of the inhabitants?” Clank suggested.

“If there are any left” Ratchet said grimly. He looked down at the crater and the town that rested at the head of the river next to a waterfall that dumped into the crater. The buildings were burning and an army of bird bots, and the smaller peck bots were crawling all over them, and the rest of the crater floor.

Clank needed a way to remain at Ratchet’s side. With his stubby stature, there was no way he would be able to keep pace with a Lombax, even one of Ratchet’s height, which was short for his species. So, Clank retracted his arms and legs, compressing himself down to toaster size. He was small enough for Ratchet to latch him to the suspender harnesses on his back. This allowed Clank to be carried like a backpack wherever Ratchet went. It was convenient enough. Ratchet spotted a nearby Gadgetron Vendor. Gadgetron had these weapons kiosks scattered all over the central systems, and all the way out to the further most reaches of the galaxy. Each was remotely operated by a salesman sitting in an office at Gadgetron headquarters on planet Kalebo III via holo link. He walked over to the vendor, a light blue box with the Gadgetron logo floating above it. A big ‘G’ with the company name orbiting it. It had a receiver antenna sticking out of each side, and a blinking blue service button on top. Ratchet pressed it and the box broke itself apart and it’s inner contents unfolded into an interface of four screens displaying “WELCOME TO GADGETRON” at the top, a video link to a sales rep on the side, and icons for weapons on the bottom. The outer shell reassembled itself and projected a hologram of today’s weapon on sale: the Pyrociter. A flamethrower that was designed similarly to a water gun with two handles, with one sticking out the side, a scope attached to the top, and a fuel canister dangling from the bottom. Sparks spit out from the red nozzle at the front of the gun. A mere prelude to the arson that this fearsome flamethrower could create. He wired 2,500 bolts through the vendor, and in return, the weapon was teleported into his hands. Ratchet gripped both handles and grinned, bearing sharp canines in an expression of sinister glee. This is gonna be fun… he thought. He stepped on the lift that descended him down into the crater, Pyrociter in hand, and stepped foot in the lush grass. He was rushed by dozens of peck bots. He pulled the trigger and unleashed a blazing hellfire upon the swarm, stopping them in their tracks and melting them down into molten metal. The bird bots that were bombarding the town up ahead stopped what they were doing and all looked Ratchet’s way. He had certainly caught their attention. A flock of peck bots appeared from over the burning buildings and descended upon the fuzzy Lombax. He charged into the village ahead with his gun literally blazing. Not a single one managed to even get close. They were all liquidated in seconds by dozens at a time. The swarm of buzzing peck bots was reduced to a pile of molten metal puddles. Witnessing this and deeming the Lombax to be a threat, the bird bots up on the houses began lobbing bombs down at Ratchet. They were awful shots, missing their mark and blowing chunks of rock in every direction. Ratchet keyed in a command on his holo watch while bounding around the explosions and the Pyrocitor teleported out of his hands, replaced with his Bomb Glove, which he then chucked a couple of payloads from up to the towers. Shrapnel and roof shingles scattered everywhere. After making scrap metal out of the goons on the towers, Ratchet ascended a few steps up to one and ran through it to the start of a bridge that stretched over the river. The second he stepped foot on it, bombers roared overhead, bombarding the bridge, the explosions creating a thick haze of dust and debris. When it cleared, Ratchet saw that the bridge was now riddled with massive holes and was slowly crumbling away. Reinforcements had dropped in from above and were now setting up a roadblock on the other side. He began crossing, jumping from to side to side as bombs came flinging his way, and returned his own packages back at the bird bots at the other side. It took only a few to clear the road block, as the robots were clustered together. Their parts were scattered all over the place when he got to the other side. He ran down a staircase under an arch and came out on the other side of the river and was met by more robot reinforcements that had been waiting for him. He took shelter behind the archway as a rain of bombs fell on the spot where he was just at. He leaned out and chucked out his own bombs, blowing up the ones that had been waiting for him, but more just dropped in from the ships above to take their place. Peck bots charged towards him in large numbers, so he quickly sent the Bomb Glove away and telequipped the Pyrocitor to light a destructive wall of flame, singeing anything that got too close. The peck bots weren’t too smart so they foolishly walked into their own smelting grave. As the flames subsided, Ratchet walked through the smoke, tossing out bombs as he went, making a mess out of what remained of Drek’s ground troops, he passed through the mess of wires and bolts and arrived at the clearing. A shadow appeared on the ground, and he looked up to see a Blargian hostage ship coming in for a landing, accompanied by several more bird bots. They landed, surrounding the boxy transport vessel and launched bombs out in every direction. Ratchet had a good hunch that they were keeping Novalian prisoners on that ship. He stood and fought, blowing up the robots one at a time without suffering so much as a scratch. The sparks cleared and a ramp dropped down from the back of the ship, and a frail old Novalian man walking with a cane emerged, waving his hands around feverishly. It was minister Buckwash begging for his life.

“Don’t hurt me, don’t hurt me! What are you? Mercenaries? Torturers? Assassins? I- I’ll tell you anything. Here, take my info bot. It’s all I got left.” The info bot floated out from behind the panicking Buckwash and offered itself up to the duo. Clank dropped from Ratchet’s back and deployed his limbs into full body form, plopping to the ground on his feet, he attempted to console the frightened politician.

“Sir, we are not assas-”

“Hold on!” Ratchet interrupted. “Let’s see what he’s got!” The info bot opened it’s mouth revealing the screen inside. On it was a black and white video of a confrontation between Captain Qwark and a massive, monstrous creature called a Blargian Snagglebeast. It was slowly lumbering towards him, the cave they were in rumbling with every foot fall. Qwark was cornered next to a pit of lava, holding a blaster. He gulped, pointed the weapon and pulled the trigger. The plasma emitter fizzled and died, leaving the Captain defenseless. Just as the monstrous beast was about to devour the captain, the video paused and his voice narrated.

“Has this ever happened to you?” Cut to a storefront with a statue of a robot holding a giant wrench in the middle of a bustling city. “Hi, I’m Captain Qwark! And, believe me, there’s nothing worse than staring down a blargian snagglebeast, from the inside, and knowing your equipment isn’t functioning properly!” Cut again to the inside. Qwark is standing in front of the main counter. Behind it are shelves of various robot parts, and the shop owner: a slightly overweight Kerwanite, a bipedal monkey like species local to planet Kerwan. He was wearing a lab coat over a tee with the shop’s logo on it, and a pair of thick, round glasses. “That’s why I come to Al’s Roboshack for all my robotic repairs! Al has been the exclusive repair shop for my super electro gadgets since I was knee high to a sand mouse! And if Al can’t fix it, it’s not broke. Right Al?” Al opened his mouth to speak was immediately cut off by Qwark. “You said it, pal! So if you’re fighting crime, or just fighting grime…” He laughed nervously as if he related a little too much to the latter. “Come to Al’s robo shack for all your robotic repairs. Al’s roboshack! It’s Qwaaaarktastic!”

Clank shrunk the info bot and stored it with the other inside his chest compartment, and began downloading the coordinates it stored. They led to the great city of Metropolis on planet Kerwan.

“Ratchet, do you know what this means?”

“Yeah, Captain Qwark has really sold out!”

“No, it means Captain Qwark is in Metropolis. We could tell him about this invasion.”

“If we had a ship.” Minister Buckwash, who had been zoned out suddenly tuned in again.

“Wha? A, a ship? Y- You’re not going to torture me? Well, as planetary chairman, I could arrange for you to borrow out Cuirrier Ship!” A boxy green cargo freighter landed on the pad atop the cliff where the wreckage of Ratchet and Clank’s old ship sat.

“Cool!” Said Ratchet.

“You can count on us, sir.” Said Clank.

“Riiiiiight. Thank you your Chairman Shippliness!” An auto bridge built itself over the river, and Ratchet used it to return to the lift the brought him down into the crater. On his way up, he noticed a structure built into the mountain side. Back at the top of the cliff he found a cave entrance. Water flowed down an incline out of the cave and stalactites jutted up from the ground. Fighting against the current of the water, Ratchet climbed up top and jumped from one to the other. The cave rumbled and stalagmites dislodged from the roof and plunged down into the water with a splash and a boom, creating a path to two pumps with platform atop. When one pump would fall, the other would rise. He looked up to see a door up above. If he could get on the second pump, he’d be able to use it to reach that door. So he jumped on the first, waited, jumped on the second, and let himself get launched upwards and through the door. The room behind it was full of peck bots and chirped loudly at his sight and began piling on him. He severed the flock in half in several slices of the sharp end of his wrench. He ascended a staircase that led up into the next room which was circular and divided in half by a drain. A bird bot guarded the door, but had not yet noticed that it had opened. Ratchet stealthily latched his wrench onto the bot’s neck and yanked it back through the door, which closed in the same movement, severing the robot in half. Sparks flew from the bottom of it’s torso and the lights in its eyes dimmed. The door opened again but Ratchet was just greeted by explosions. There was a second bird bot in there. You must have saw me kill your friend, didn’t you? Ratchet thought. He equipped the Bomb Glove and cautiously re opened the door, side stepping a bomb and throwing his own back and watching the goon get pulverized by the pyrocidic payload. He jumped over the drain and onto a pump in the corner of the room and let him raise him up to the next door. He walked through a hallway that opened into a giant water processing facility. Channels of crystal blue flowed between sections of flooring. On the other side were two more pumps, and at the top of the room hung a shifty looking catwalk. Peck bots perched up on it, waiting for him to make it up there, which he did, jumping over the water channels, and climbing up onto the pumps that raised him to the ledge. He grabbed on and pulled himself up where the pests met him, chirping, and coming at him in rows. He ran across the catwalk, Pyrociter blazing, downing the robotic birds that were all aligned in a row, one after another as he went. The catwalk ended at another door, behind which was another hallway and another door at the end of it that Ratchet walked through. He was in a room with a large window overlooking the Tobruk Crater which was still getting bombarded by Drek’s ariel forces. Even more unpleasently, he was greeted by the butcrack of a plumber waving in his face. The plummer appeared to be working on a pressurizing unit that had broken down. Clank dropped from Ratchet’s back and stood at his side.

“Dag blast it!” the plumber exclaimed.

“Hey, look,” Ratchet laughed, “Plumber’s crack” The plummer immediately whipped around and gave Ratchet a stern look.

“What did you just say?”

“I said look, the plumber’s back.”

“Alright, wise guy. Shouldn’t you be on one of those escape transports?”

“Escape transports?”

“News flash: giant robots attacking! The escape transports are taking all the rich folks off the god darn planet”

“So why aren’t you on one?”

“Socioeconomic disparity”

“What?” Ratchet asked, confused at a term he had never heard before.

“He has not got enough bolts” Clank clarified.

“Working people have to wait for Captain Qwark to save us” the plumber explained.

“Well, got anything worth a lot of bolts?”

“I got this thing” The plumber pulled an infobot straight out from his crack. “Shows two weirdos ditching their ship. It’s got coordinates to a desert planet, too!”

“An infobot! Ratchet, we could use that.” Ratchet paid 500 bolts for the infobot which smelled like sweat and something else, and the plumber proceeded to dive down the drain.

“Dironimooooooo!” *SPLASH!*

“Did he just slide down a sewer pipe?!”

The infobot opened it’s mouth and presented a distress call. Ratchet immediately recognized Rilgarian hoverboarding celebrity Skid McMarx and his agent in the cockpit of their ship. There were missiles and explosions everywhere outside their ship.

“Mayday! Mayday!” Skid cried, “This is the solar ship radical! We seem to be under attack from the planet surface!”

“Relax, kid, it looks like some sort of fireworks display. Probably in your honor!” A missile flew by, barely missing them.

“That was close!” Skid gasped. A missle slammed into the ship, knocking it into the gravitational pull of a brown muddy planet below them. Planet Aridia. They started approaching at an accelerating speed as missiles continued to fly up from the planet surface, and Skid screamed in terror.

“Pipe down, I can’t concentrate!” his agent snapped while frantically sending out texts from his cell phone.

“But we’ve been hit!” The agent fumbled for an excuse to calm Skid down.

“Uh, and unexpected detour. When we land, I’ll see if I can scare up an exhibition for you.”

“We’re not gonna live that long!” A missle locked onto their position and began making a beeline straight for them.

“Kid… let’s amscray!”

“EJECT! EJECT!” The signal went to static the second the missile made contact.

Clank put the infobot away with the others.

“Did you see that guy on the left? That was Skid McMarx!” Ratchet exclaimed excitedly.

“Does he know Captain Qwark?”

“I doubt it. He’s a pro hoverboarder! Always going off about how ‘cool’ he is”

“Looks like he is in trouble”

“I’ll say! I’ve never seen him look so freaked out!”

Ratchet took a moment to stop and look out the large window that sunlight was filtering through. It overlooked the entirety of the Tobruk Crater, and he could take in all of the destruction that the Blarg had caused. And their ships were still buzzing about the place. From here he could make out the city in the distance, tall skyscrapers just peeking over the grassy green cliffsides. Blarg bombers pummeled the towers relentlessly. Shifting his vision higher he could see Drek’s mothership looming above the buildings. He watched on as presumably dozens of innocent Novalians lost their lives. And then a loud snap rung out, and with a flash a second mothership appeared out of hyperspace. A sleek, silver capital ship resembling a phoenix in shape. A smaller carrier ship deployed from the back of the cruiser and hovered above the city. Tiny figures were jumping out of it’s back, down to the city streets below, accompanied by dozens of smaller ships also streaming out of the cruiser’s backside and engaging the Blarg fighters. Any resident of the Solana Galaxy would recognize this famous vessel. It was the Starship Phoenix: the pride of the galactic fleet. Captained by the daughter of the president himself, the Phoenix was the capital ship of the Galactic Rangers, the Solana Galaxy’s valiant military force. Looks like the Galactic Rangers have got things covered… Ratchet thought as he watched the battle unfold. We should probably get out of here. Ratchet remembered the pipe that the Plumber slid down and approached it wearily. Well, it is the fastest way down… Not knowing if Clank was waterproof, he turned to the little robot who nodded in approval, then jumped back up onto his back. Without another fault, he jumped in with a splash, and the current immediately grabbed hold and dragged him down, faster and faster, the water roaring around him. “WOOOOOOOHOOOOOOOO!!!” He zipped down the pipe, all the way down to the cave enterance where it spit him out onto the grass outside. He was soaked, fur matted down, and cargo jeans feeling heavy with the water that had absorbed into them. His whole body, ears especially were dripping profusely. Above him, Drek’s ships appeared to be abandoning the village in Tobruk Crater and flocking over to the intense battle that was taking place over in the city. The crater village was left in a smoldering wreck. An eerie hush fell over it, penetrated only by the occasional sound of a bird chirping or a bug buzzing, as well as the flow of the river below. There was the crackling of the fire below, but it was barely noticable. Ratchet figured this peaceful silence is what the norm was when the planet wasn’t being invaded. Sounds of explosions and gunfire echoed over the hills. It was peaceful again here, but the city was another story. Ratchet checked his watch and called upon Gadgetron’s map service to assess if there was anything left to do. According to the map, there was another cave system hidden in a small alcove behind the landing pad. He followed the map and came to a lake, on the other end was a locked door connected to a bolt crank built into the ground. Ratchet shrugged, he was already wet so more swimming wouldn’t be a big deal. So he jumped into the lake and propelled himself to the other side, then jumped out and latched his Omniwrench onto the Versa Bolt and began to crank it, doing so slowly pulled open the door, creating access to the reservoir caves.

The caves were illuminated by a type of exotic, glowing mushrooms… and had also been invaded by some of Drek’s robots. Three bird bots were hanging out in the first chamber that Ratchet entered. They spotted him immediately and started lobbing bombs. Ratchet took cover behind a mushroom, threw a bomb of his own out, dispatching one of the bots. An explosion nearby vaporized his cover and he was forced to keep moving, tossing out a second bomb, destroying another robot and leaving only one. He didn’t give it a chance to react and threw one more out, sending the robot’s pieces flying. The map on his holo watch indicated that there was a pipe under the nearby body of water. Ratchet jumped in, took a breath, held it, and dove down. The water stung his unprotected eyes, and he could barely see to find the gap in the rocks he was looking for, but he was able to push his way through the water towards it. His fur, ears, tail, and jeans all billowed out, pulled and dragged in every which way by the water, this extra drag making it a little more difficult to cut through the water. He squeezed through the pipe and came out at the bottom of an iron tank. Looking above, he saw the surface. His lungs were beginning to sting from lack of air, so he quickly made for the top and broke the surface, gasping in air and pulling himself out of the water. Standing on the edge of the tank, he looked down to see two more smaller ones below him, and the cave floor. A few peck bots were running around down there. They chirped when they saw him. He jumped and flipped, landing below, then truck both with two quick swiped, knocking them both back. The bird bots shattered in a mess of nuts and springs on the cave walls. Another iron door blocked Ratchet’s path, connected to a second bolt crank. He attached his wrench and turned the versa bolt, churning the mechanism that opened the door. Before he left this chamber, he noticed a wall to the side looked hollow. Thinking this to be odd, he chucked a bomb at it, and the wall crumbled, behind it, a large bolt forged from gold and stacks of boxes. He picked it up and transferred it to his bank account. Gold bolts were a rare form of currency used to purchase powerful weapons upgrades. Knowing this, Ratchet wasn’t just gonna let it sit there for anybody to find. He smashed the boxes with his wrench, collected a couple hundred regular bolts, then left through the iron door. Another underwater swim through a flooded cavern and he was at the cave exit. A door opened in front of him and sunlight flooded in. Exiting the cave, Ratchet rushed to the ledge of the cliff to check on the battle. Things had died down considerably. The worst of Drek’s forces appeared to be eliminated, and galactic ranger ships were mopping up the last of the Blarg fighters. In a flash and with a boom, Drek’s flagship vanished from sight, fleeing into hyperspace. Looks like the show’s over, Ratchet thought. He walked over to he and Clank’s new ship. It was a bulky, boxy green cargo ship with two triple booster primary engines at the lower back, and two single booster auxiliary engines at the upper. Such propulsion was needed to push a clunker like this through space. The canopy opened and he hopped in, unstrapping Clank from his back and placing him in the seat beside him. The cabin was actually quite comfortable. The interior was entirely cushioned by squishy green foam. Not bad… He brought up the nav computer and Clank plugged in, uploading all the coordinates he had. Their current location, Novalis was first to appear on the galactic map, at the inner sector of the galaxy, west of the galactic center. Next to appear was the city planet Kerwan, above Novalis, and then the desert planet Aridia, below Novalis. “Let’s go meet Skidd McMarxs!” Ratchet shouted excitedly.

“Not so fast” Clank said, plotting the course. “I have a directive that I intend to follow” He locked in coordinates to Kerwan and initiated the launch sequence. The ship shook and rumbled as the rear thrusters began to fire up. “Captain Qwark is in Metropolis, and it is our responsibility to recruit him to our cause.” He turned to Ratchet. “We meet this Skidd McMarx after.”

“Tch. Whatever you say, pal.” Ratchet conceded. He throttled the ship in the air while Clank threw a lever to retract the landing gear. Grinning, Ratchet hit the gas and opened up the engines, speeding towards the city, between the buildings, and up out of the atmosphere. They blasted right past the Phoenix, breaking out of the planet’s gravitational pull, just outside of the roche limit. A whirring sound rose from the back of the ship as the warp drive came online. It was loud and rattled, hinting at the ship’s age. The stars outside began to turn into streaks as the ship accelerated, before blasting them with all the light of the universe as they launched into warp space.

#ratchet and clank #Ratchet And Clank Expanded Universe #ratchet and clank eu #fan fiction #adaptation #sci fi #playstation #playstation 2 #ps2 #insomniac games #ratchet #clank

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potions-and-halos · 6 years

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Fighting the Leader (DBZ Short)

(This is canon to Huntress’ story, the height of her fights in the pit fights.)

The massive bio-android stood and waved to the crowd roaring in the Arena stands, her heart hammering furiously in excitement of the next fight to follow. She was the one of the younger fiery pitfighters and one of the most well-loved ones to boot.

She turned her cat-like upright body to the robot entering on the other side of the arena, immediately scrutinizing him for weaknesses and strengths. Much to her dismay, she didn't see any on the massive spiky gray mech and judging by the roars of the crowd, he was another of the favored few fighters.

She sized the android up, her heavy dual-layer blue armor bristling up into menacing spikes, her wings flaring up partially as she spoke the beast’s language of dominance. Her eerie green eyes narrowed down to slits as she stared the mech in his red eyes.

With a blood-curdling snarl, the blue-armored bio-android opened her jaws and let loose a large ki ball before charging right behind it, her ki hammers in hand as she charged the mech.

He moved in with a roar and swung down with his swords, her hammers barely blocking his strikes. She was now face to face with Aries and she snarled, her eyes fizzing between white and green, her Berserker coding struggling to overpower her good battle sense.

She threw her weight against their crossed weapons, forcing him to stagger back several steps, her thick tail swinging at his side as she spun on her front hand, hind legs kicking him in the chest harshly after her tail struck. The mech roared and charged her again, his shoulder making contact with her side as he dug his clawed fingers into her chest armor, denting and gashing it open. She rolled to her feet, weapons forgotten on the ground as she charged like an animal, her green optics fading to white as she unleashed her Berserker coding, ungodly fury coming out into the battle as she struck the mech.

A sick smile twisted her face as she was hit again, her blood running hot in her veins as she took and dealt damage, her body covered in gashes and holes, dealing what she had done to her right back. The moves blurred in her mind until she could barely see, the red haze covering her memory of her hardest fight.

#bioandroid #oc #short story #dbz #dbs #head canon

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seniichi · 6 years

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Lovely Boy (VI)

Prompt: His task is done. Six months of preparation, of planning, of making sure Green finally had everything he wanted. Gold was a good boy. Too bad his target never learned how to do that. Final work in the Lovely Boy series, but I’ll probably keep writing in this universe anyways. for @murdeirin as part of their gift conga series.

Note: If you like my work, please consider donating to my Ko-Fi account - Seniichi.

Today. Is. The. Day~

Gold is all abuzz with excitement, bright eyed and full of overwhelmingly bubbly pleasure. Green is, as always, amused in his patient way, kissing him good morning over their breakfast of bacon and eggs. Today is one of Green’s busiest days, so his beloved mentor will be home in a foul mood, dying to vent his fury and wrath upon the unfortunate subject that would dare hold his attention. The moment Green leaves with his (unfortunately) normal bento, Gold immediately begins to primp and prepare the house for the day of his beloved mentor’s dreams. He carefully wraps each Pokeball of his greatest gift, whispering gently how they will meet their true owner soon. Each one wobbles in tell-tale happiness.

(natu had done such a wonderful job, planting false memories and affecting the original enough that the details of Green’s journey stood out to them far more than the other trainer’s.)

Today he dresses up cutely, in bright green hot pants and a sleeveless white turtleneck. He’s cute, he’s sexy, and he can’t wait for Green to come home and see all the hard work Gold had put into the present he’d made. He debates between adding jewelry, and decides against it. All of the bruises Green gave him from their rough lovemaking sessions were on display, and were better than any physical gems and jewels that Green could buy.

(not that Green did. he was practical like that)

Gold walks into the bare room, watches his target weakly tug at the restraints. Despite the risk it had provided, Gold knew Green would want them at full strength.

Green’s coming home soon. Gold says softly, stroking a cheek gently. You’re going to beg. He murmurs with a smile. You’re going to beg him to do as he pleases, you’re going to offer your body like the depraved beast you are. Hateful eyes stare at Gold, but they don’t dare open their mouth to disobey. Gold giggles, watches his eyes darken with rage.

You’re so good now. I hope you obey Green just like this. He pats his toy’s cheek, leaves them there and seals the room once more.

Green is in a haze of fury when he returns home, shaking from the sheer force of his anger. It cools nigh-imperceptibly at the sight of Gold, but he is too enraged to speak for several moments.

Tell me you found a toy for me. His rage is incandescent, heavy in the timbre of his voice. Gold walks forward, leans up to kiss a willing, pliant mouth until it relaxes, softens.

Save your anger, Gold tells him, takes a hand and leads him up the stairs. You’ll want every bit of it for after I give you your gift. Green chuckles a little, bends down to kiss under an ear teasingly. Gold flushes an adorable pink at the tender action, knows how Green is tightly leashing his rage, instead donning his affectionate mask once more.

Of course lovely boy, He says amiably, sliding a possessive hand down to cup Gold’s rear through his bright shorts. As he bends to retrieve the stashed Pokeballs, Green squeezes the handful in his grasp, making Gold squeak and jerk upright, package in his arms. Green grins back, unrepentant. Gold tries to glare at him for it, but dissolves into an embarrassed blush instead. All for me? He asks sweetly, leaning over him to admire the gifts. Another of your breeding projects, lovely boy? Gold shakes his head, draws mystified intrigue.

Not really. It’s more of... returning rightful Pokemon, than anything. Green accepts the gift with confusion, unleashes the first from the cage.

The Pikachu chirps at him, trotting forward to twine lovingly around Green’s ankles. Bewilderment, wonder, and absolute awe frame his face as he kneels down, reverently pick up the Electric Mouse Pokemon within his grasp, touching his nose to the other in greeting.

(months of preparation had gone into this. a special diet of human flesh, natu’s blood-thirsty brainwashing, and his own knowledge of the pathetic target’s journey - as well as his beloved mentor’s - had come at last into fruition)

Pikachu chirps again, nuzzles Green, before clambering up on his shoulder and settling contently upon the broad shoulders. It looks so right the way they looked together.

(his god with the invincible beast)

One by one, they are unveiled. Each one is greeted, lovingly. Green moves them to the kitchen, his eyes widening at the feast laid out for them all.

(gold had used six bodies to make all the fresh puddings and steaks and hearty, hearty stews. every meal had fresh meat, and by the time this feast was done and consumed, green would never have to doubt the loyalty of those he had wrested from that worthless wretch.)

Green kissed him so hard that Gold nearly passed out, and Pikachu smirked at him, the mouse knowing his flustered attraction well. Dinner is a lovely affair, all of Green’s deserved partners returned at last, feasting heartily on the provided meal. Once all of them - save Pikachu - have been returned, Green kisses Gold again, all savage hunger and thirsty desire. Pikachu gives an amused squeak, leaping off to find a place to curl up on and observe as Green greedily lays claim to Gold’s mouth.

My lovely boy. How bold you have become. All this for me? Green kisses him again, nuzzles his neck and leaves a few light bites to tease him, other hand tugging the turtleneck down. Gold shivers in delight, prey to his hungry desire.

All this and more. I told you to hold onto your rage for a reason. Green’s eyes go wide, and he looks down at Gold, trembling in anticipation. You don’t think I’d let the thief that took your glory and your team go unpunished, did you? He’s been waiting for you.

Green’s breath catches, his grip turns vicious upon Gold’s hips, creating new bruises that Gold would be sure to show off in the morning.

You brought him to me? Green says hoarsely, unyielding grip upon Gold’s small hips, raw hunger in his tone. The force of his grip hurts a little, but Gold grins up at him lovingly, kisses his mouth with utter devotion.

I could do nothing less. You gave me the monsters that ruined my life, and so I brought the monster that took your lawful birthright. Green shudders at his words, dipping down to sink his teeth into the soft flesh, biting down so hard that Gold can feel blood dripping around the teeth, staining his shirt.

You’re mine, Gold. Entirely mine, after this. Mine to play with, mine to keep, mine to love and kill. Green’s words send heat curling into Gold’s stomach. He shivers, cheeks turning an adorable shade of pink. Green had never laid such fierce claim upon him.

Green releases him, one hand sliding down to cup his rear affectionately, before squeezing the handful of flesh in his grasp. Show me. Gold beckons to Pikachu, the mouse bounding up to his shoulder, leads his beloved - no, his lover - upstairs.

(he was green’s. he was going to die of happiness.)

He raises a brow, follows Gold into the pristine white room, blinks in his surprise at how clean it is. His expression changes once he sees his prey, who has begun to squirm in earnest, attempting to flee. Green smiles.

(he loves how much green looks like death incarnate in the grip of his rage and anger, looks like a true god.)

Hello Red, Green smiles cruelly, kneeling before the man. He cups his cheek in a hand, kisses Red’s forehead. Pikachu hisses at Red, the man looking bewildered at the sudden change of heart from his stolen starter. It’s been such a long time. Thank you for bringing what rightfully belongs to me home at last. I’ve missed them so dearly. It’s good to see you’ve learned manners. Gold is behind Green, and he grins smugly at Red. Red is shaking with fury, the depth of Gold’s actions realized at last. He lunges for Gold, but Green calmly grabs Red’s face and slams him back against the wall. The brutal elegance of it makes Gold shiver, the boy plopping down to watch, eager.

Don’t even dare to think you can touch what is rightfully mine. Green’s voice is so cold. Red is dazed from the hit, pathetically weak. Gold raises an eyebrow, mouths the words he’d told him to recite with a grin. As he expected, it only enraged Red further. He tries again, and this time he gets harshly zapped by Pikachu, who leaps into Gold’s lap, Gold obediently providing a light petting to his head, a light coo leaving the mouse in contentment. He grins at Red as the man lies paralyzed, too weak to stop Green or Gold.

Red would never speak the words Gold had said, but they served as a fuel for his anger, make him resist while Green destroyed him. Green stands casually, stretches in the luxuriously sinful way Gold loves, and looks down at him.

I’d like my set now. Green whispers softly. Gold picks Pikachu up and settles him upon a shoulder, hustles off to grab the one he knows Green wants.

It’s never been opened before Gold’s eyes. A heavy black case, filled with knives that existed only in Gold’s imagination. Green smiles gruesomely as it is given to him, set to one side. He unbuckles each lock, slides it free. When he opens the case, Gold and Pikachu peer over.

Oh.

(each blade was honed moonstone, their endless black glowing ominously with the Darkest power he’d ever seen. these were weapons to suit the god of the underworld.)

Green takes one and twirls it lazily between his fingers, the blade a blur of movement between one revolution to the next.

Make sure to scream, he grins at Red, lifting the knife.

There’s a difference between Gold and Green, their execution. Gold is still clumsy with his knives, relies upon them much more to help him create art. Green uses them like an extension of him, the implements of pain as much a part of his body as his hands or his mouth.

Green doesn’t hurt the man the same way he does others. Instead, he trails scars over his body - on his arms, on his neck, between his thighs. Each time, a spritz of Potion heals it, leaves a shiny, well-healed scar of tissue behind. Penace.

I will hurt him, Green murmurs softly to Gold. But I want to ruin him first. Ruin the other man who destroyed my life with his body. Subtle strokes render Red a puppet, and Gold obediently fetches a camera. Alakazam trots in, uses his power to set everything up...

And Green films a false confession, using Red to confess to an unsolved murder case - Green’s first meal. He used Red to confess a gory tale, linking him to several of their crimes, of their missing cases that had resulted from Green’s thirst for sweet flesh.

But most of all, he uses Red to claim responsibility for the uprising of Rocket, uses his words to confess that he had killed the Rocket executives, that they had disobeyed him and attempted to contact Giovanni, and for that they lost their lives. He spins a gory tale, and then... Gold shivers.

Seppuku is an artful rendition meant to restore fallen honor, one Gold honestly does not believe the man deserves, but guided by Alakazam, the man spends hours, the moonstone blade dancing within his internal organs, shredding them until they were nothing but a slick brown mush within, the torture spread through hours. Red slumps over, weak, but still moving. Green uses that, sluggishly pinning the blame, the slow slide into the insanity on Professor Oak - his enabler.

Green is smiling when the film cuts off, quivering in place from the anticipated pleasure.

Alakazam teleports everything away, into a sterile room somewhere else, somewhere it would be found by a convenient tip. The media outrage would be incandescent. Green holds a handful of Red’s flesh in his palm, and Pikachu perks up. Green sighs, but allows the mouse to sniff it, curiously investigating it before taking a bite out of it. Green’s hand strokes over the Mouse’s head, allowing him to devour it all, piece by piece, the mouse licking his fingers clean. Pikachu scampers off, and he stands.

I’m going to clean up lovely boy. Green says. He tilts his head to look at Gold, smiling. You’re free to join me. Gold scrambles to chase after his beloved mentor at the words, hears his soft laughter. Pikachu squeaks in amusement himself, wanders off to find somewhere to sleep.

Green is already undressed, raises a brow at Gold when the boy enters the bathroom, a roguish smirk curling over his lips. Green’s hand cups the back of his neck, yanks him forward to deliver a harsh kiss to plush lips, ravaging him without care. He undresses Gold, long fingers nimbly working at his shorts, cupping the swollen growth there with a wink.

Oh, you’re so very ready for me, aren’t you? Green laughs, leaning down to dip a gentle kiss against Gold’s eager, wanting mouth. As you should be. His voice is husky and hoarse, brilliant eyes dark with lust. Green is never gentle with him, instead preferring to nip at the skin, tormenting him and drawing blood over his shoulders. Green gives a husky little moan, teeth worrying a new bruise on his throat. You’re so good you know. He murmurs, hefting the boy up into his arms. My pretty little good boy. Nobody has ever been so good for me. Gold shyly ducks his head, blushing pink as Green lovingly squeezes the flesh in his hands.

All I’ve wanted is to be your good boy. Gold murmurs shyly, as Green mouths against his throat, pushing him against the shower wall, clumsily turning the shower on and kissing him lovingly as the chill spray hits them both, makes him gasp.

You’re perfect. I could have nothing greater than you. Green lowers Gold to the floor, the boy obediently uncurling his legs to stand unsteadily on his own two feet. Turning Gold around, Green sinks to his knees, spreading him open wide. Did you prepare for me? He murmurs sultrily, and Gold manages to nod. What a good boy. Green praises him softly, fingers sliding in to fill him, Gold giving a little whine of pleasure. It feels so good, Green finger-fucking him as praise for a task well done. He can’t help the squeal of surprised pleasure when Green’s tongue joins, the boy quivering as Green uses his tongue and fingers to prod all of the right places until Gold is babbling nonsense, begging Green for more. Green moves on eventually, standing up to lift Gold once more.

He manages to find the railing, hands gripping at it tightly as Green nudges the tip of his cock against his willing and well-teased hole.

Break me. Gold is nearly too far gone to recognize what he’s said, but Green is not, the hands settled upon his hips holding him terribly still. He’s panting softly, so very wanton in the pose of his body, water curving sinfully over his frame.

Gold... That’s a dangerous game you’re playing, Green says at last, fingers tight on his hips. Green could break Gold so easily, so swiftly. But he doesn’t, content to toy with Gold, tease him. Gold gives a whimper at the idea, shivering in Green’s firm hold. You know that’s dangerous. The boy manages to look at Green, lips curling up into a smile.

What you do with what belongs to you is hardly going to get an objection from me, Gold’s words make Green’s breath hitch, audible even in the noise of the shower. The younger of the two tilts his head to a side, gaze flickering slightly as he does so. Wreck me Green. His god shudders, gaze scorching as he leans in to push himself in, stretching the boy wide, his hands shifting to wrap around his throat.

I could very seriously hurt you, Green warns, breath hitching in excitement, grip already tightening.

Then do it, Gold says encouragingly, hunger oozing from the words. I belong to you - isn’t that what you said? Yours to kill? Green gives the most delightful little snarl, snapping his hips forward harshly to drive himself deeper into the boy. Gold gives a delighted cry, his air supply cut off by Green’s grasp as it tightens abruptly, getting a soft sob of pleasure from the treatment. Green’s touch is rougher, and he’s freer with his bites, teeth sinking hungrily into the soft flesh, marking Gold as his own.

You don’t get to take this back Gold. I will break you, Green’s voice is predatory, pleasure deep in his tone. And I will break you every time if you agree to let me use you as I please, Green warns Gold.

I’ve been waiting for you to break me, Gold says breathlessly. Please. Make me useful to only you. Green gives a noise that is as primal as it is possessive, the sharpness of his tone the only warning Gold got before Green’s fingers wrap around his throat again, robbing his breath and using the boy as his own toy, hips snapping forward to drive Gold against the wall, breath robbed from him and body forcefully shoved against the slick tile, Green’s smile spreading.

What a good, lovely boy I have.

By the time Green was done with Gold, there was a ring of thick bruises wrapped around his throat, bloody marks bitten up and down his shoulders and thighs from where Green had claimed him. Green has to carry him out of the shower, weak and pliant in his god’s grip. He makes a soft noise of protest at being left alone, and Green chuckles softly at him.

Don’t worry lovely boy. I’ll be back. Gold sighs contently, laying loose and bloody against the bed as he watches his god dry off, Green climbing into bed with him with a loving smile. See? Green teases, pulling the exhausted boy to him. So loyal, so devoted, so good for me. My lovely boy... you and I... we’ll go far. Gold gives a happy sigh.

He would help his god rule Kanto.

#BLOOD TW #GORE TW #CANNIBALISM TW #Trainer Gold #Rival Green Oak #Imperialshipping #Inspirationalshipping #murdeirin

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gigawaya-blog · 6 years

Text

Bold = currently playing

Strikethrough = Finished

100% Orange Juice 1bitHeart ABZU ACE Academy Aeon Command AER Memories of Old AirMech Strike AKIBA'S TRIP: Undead & Undressed Alicemare Alien Swarm Alien Swarm: Reactive Drop Amnesia: A Machine for Pigs Amnesia: The Dark Descent ARAYA Armored Evolution Astebreed: Definitive Edition Atlas Reactor Audiosurf 2 AZURA Azure Strike Gunvolt Backyard Basketball Backyard Football Bad Rats Show Batman: Arkham Asylum GOTY Edition Batman: Arkham City GOTY Batman: Arkham Origins Batman: Arkham Knight Battleblock Theater Beat Hazard A Bird Story Black & White Bushido Black Dream

Bladed Fury BlazBlue: Calamity Trigger Blue Whale The Boogie Man Borderlands Borderlands 2 Bot Vice

Brawlhalla Breathing Fear Castle Crashers Choose Wisely Cinderella Escape 2 Revenge Closers Cloudbuilt CODE OF PRINCESS Coffin of Ashes Confess My Love Consummate: Missing World Copy Kitty Corpse Party

Cortex Command Crazy Machines 3 The Crooked Man Crown Champion: Legends of the Arena Cuphead (awaiting DLC) Cyber Utopia D4: Dark Dreams Don't Die Darkness Assault Dead Rising Deadly Premonition: The Director's Cut The Deed The Deed: Dynasty DEEP SPACE WAIFU DEEP SPACE WAIFU: FLAT JUSTICE Depth Doki Doki Literature Club Door Kickers Double Dragon Neon Dr. Langeskov, The Tiger, and The Terribly Cursed Emerald: A Whirlwind Heist Dragon Ball Xenoverse 2 (awaiting DLC) Dragon Knight DreadOut: Keepers of The Dark Dreaming Sarah DubWars Duck Game Dungeon Nightmares 2: The Memory EARTH DEFENSE FORCE 4.1: The Shadow of New Despair EARTH DEFENSE FORCE 4.1: WINGDIVER THE SHOOTER

The Elder Scrolls 5: Skyrim Special Edition Eternal Senia Fable Anniversary Fairy Bloom Freesia Fairy Fencer F Fairy Fencer F Advent Dark Force Fallout: New Vegas Final Fantasy 7 Final Fantasy X/X-2 HD Remaster The Final Station Finding Paradise Firewood The First Tree Flower Design For Honor (may continue playing) Fort Meow Forward to the Sky

Gal*Gun: Double Peace Gang Beasts Garry's Mod Getting Over It with Bennett Foddy Girl X Mushrooms Glass Wing Go Go Electric Samurai Goat Simulator GOCCO OF WAR GOD EATER 2 Rage Burst GOD EATER RESURRECTION Golf With Your Friends Grand Theft Auto 5 Grass Cutter GUN Gun Metal

Gurumin: A Monstrous Adventure Half-Life Half-Life 2 Halo: Spartan Assult Halo: Spartan Strike The Hanged Man

Hello? Hell... o?

Hero and Daughter+ High School Simulator 2018 House Party how do you Do It? Human: Fall Flat Hyper Universe Hyperdimension Neptunia Re;Birth1 Hyperdimension Neptunia Re;Birth2 Sisters Generation Hyperdimension Neptunia Re;Birth3 V Generation Hyperdimension Neptunia U: Action Unleashed I am Bread I Am The Hero I Can't Believe It's Not Gambling GOTY Edition The Initial INVERSUS Deluxe ISLANDS: Non-Places Jet Set Radio JetmanGo Just Ignore Them Knight Bewitched Koi-Koi Japan [Hanafuda playing cards] Kritika Online Kung Fu Strike: The Warrior's Rise Kung Fury: Street Rage Lakeview Cabin Collection The Last NightMary - A Lenda do Cabeca de Cuia Learn Japanese To Survive - Hiragana Battle Learn Japanese To Survive! Katakana War Left 4 Dead Left 4 Dead 2 Leisure Suit Larry: Magna Cum Laude Uncut and Uncensored LiEat Life Goes On: Done to Death Lili: Child of Geos Mad Father Magical Battle Fiesta MapleStory Master Reboot Mega Man Legacy Collection Mega Man Legacy Collection 2 Megabyte Punch

MegaTagmension Blanc + Neptune VS Zombies Melody's Escape Midnight at the Red Light: An Investigation

Minecraft: Java Edition Mini Ninjas Mini Thief Misao: Definitive Edition Misturugi Kamui Hikae

Moero Chronicle MONITOR: The Game Monster Monpiece Montaro Moon Hunters Mother Simulator

Mountain Move or Die My Big Sister Neon Chrome Never Alone (Kisima Ingitchuna)

Niche - a genetics survival game NieR: Automata Nippon Marathon (awaiting updates) Notch - The Innocent LunA: Eclipsed SinnerS Office Battle OKAMI HD Orbital Gear Ori and the Blind Forest: Definitive Edition Our Love Will Grow Outland Over The Moonlight Overlord Oxenfree

Pale Moon Crisis Panty Party Phantom Breaker: Battle Grounds Phoning Home

PLAYNE Polygon Attack Pool Nation Portal Portal 2 Power Hover Proxy Blade Zero Psychiatrist Simulator Quantum Conundrum Ragtag Adventurers Rakuen Red Haze Richochet Riff Racer RiME Rise to Ruins Robo Do It Rogue Legacy Root Letter Salty Fish Go! The Sand Man Saviors SAWKOBAN Sayona Umihara Kawase SEGA Mega Drive & Genesis Classics Selenophobia SENRAN KAGURA SHINOVI VERSUS Sentience: The Android's Tale Shadow Tactics: Blades of the Shogun Shelter 1 Shelter 2 ShineG In The Bullethell ShineG In The Zombies Shoujo City Simply Chess The Sims 3 (+plus most expansion packs) Sins Of The Demon RPG Slender: The Arrival SMASHING THE BATTLE Solaria Moon Sonic & All-Stars Racing Transformed Collection Sonic Adventure 2 Sonic Adventure DX Sonic Forces Sonic Generations SoulCalibur 6 Soul Saber 2 Space Pilgrim Academy: Year 1 Space Pilgrim Episode 1: Alpha Centauri Space Pilgrim Episode 2: Epsilon Indi Space Pilgrim Episode 3: Delta Pavonis Space Pilgrim Episode 4: Sol SpeedRunners Spermination Split Of Knight Stairs Star Wars Battlefront 2 (old version) (non-steam) STAR WARS Knights of the Old Republic STAR WARS Knights of the Old Republic 2: The Sith Lords Starbound Stardew Valley (on a break, will continue later if requested enough) Stardust Galaxy Warriors Stick Fight: The Game Storm of Spears Stray Cat Crossing Strider Strikey Sisters Subnautica Sudoku Universe Surgeon Simulator Sweetest Monster Sword of Asumi Symphony Tales of Berseria Tales of Symphonia Tales of Winds: Tomb of the Sol Empire Tales of Zestria Telophase TERA Terraria There's Poop In My Soup To The Moon Total War: SHOGUN 2 Turmoil Turok: Dinosaur Hunter Turok 2: Seeds of Evil Ultimate Chicken Horse Umihara Kawase Umihara Kawase Shun Steam Edition

Undercity Undertale The Vagrant Valkyria Chronicles Vanguard Princess Vanquish VRCHAT Way of the Samurai 3 Way of the Samurai 4 The Way We ALL GO We Were Here What is love? What's under your blanket !? What's under your blanket 2 !? The Witch’s House MV Wolf & Rabbit X-Blades Yomawari: Night Alone Yume Nikki

#pc #steam #games #gaming #youtube #checklist #todolist #gigawaya #galiwolfe #todowaya

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empresskatariah · 6 years

Text

Prologue

Fomorians were sea-folk, though they hadn’t always been, and those that took to land were often weakened by the absence of water. There was enough of their previous form left to give them proper legs and a means of breathing, but not even their tremendous reserves of magic could keep their skins from drying out. Containing one was simply a matter of waiting until dehydration set in and slowed it up.

But tonight the stars were hidden behind a thick layer of clouds that kept dumping torrents of rain. The air was heavy and humid, dank with the stench of wet asphalt that had been dry for too long. Oz surveyed the cityscape from his perch atop a high-rise for some bank or another, one hand stuffed in the pocket of his raincoat while the other held onto a small radio. His slitted pupils dilated as he scanned the streets for any sign of activity, then narrowed slightly as the radio crackled.

“Do you see anything?” came the query, a masculine but youthful tone.

“Nah. Sky’s still pissin’. Don’t bode well if it’s the Fomoire about.”

Oz’s voice was a stark contrast to the one from the radio. He spoke quietly but gruffly, with the barest hint of a lilting Scots’ brogue. Baritone with a growl, someone had said once; Oz didn’t disagree with that assessment.

“You never know, maybe it’s just another Kelpie and someone overreacted. It wouldn’t be the first time. I mean, how many years has it been since one of the Deep Ones came ashore?”

Oz’s face scrunched into a scowl and he opened his mouth to retort, but then his jaw clicked shut without a word. It was moments like this one that made him feel tired, or perhaps old was a better word for it.

“Three decades, give or take a couple years. Doesn’t feel that long to me, though.”

“Cheer up, old man.” A laugh came through the speaker. “Odds are we get to finish up here soon and then we’ll go to Waffle House, my treat.”

Oz’s eyes widened. Suddenly the promise of Waffle House shone like a flaming beacon in the midst of this dismal murk, beckoning him onward. He leaned forward, peering out at the desolate vista with renewed interest.

“Better be ready to pay dearly, then,” he said slyly, one corner of his mouth pulling upward in a toothy grin, “because I haven’t had waffles in–”

A scream cut him off. It was a man’s shriek of terror, a raw and desperate sound that cut through the muggy air like a knife. As if on cue, lightning lit up the sky and a clap of thunder followed merely half a second behind.

“What was that?” the radio demanded.

“I’m on it,” Oz grunted, stuffing the radio into his pocket as he lunged.

The ground was many stories down, at least twenty floors, but Oz hurled himself over the edge with no hesitation. For a moment he was flying, in the next he was falling – he plummeted carelessly as the air roared past him, his raincoat flapping noisily as he went.

He closed his eyes. Wondered how big of a splat he’d make if he just stayed like this and hit the ground. Wondered how long it would take to come back from a mess like that.

I always land on my feet, he thought absently, and dissipated into a cloud of black smoke.

When he reformed he was standing where he’d envisioned going splat, on a curb surrounded by loose litter and dead leaves. A large plastic bag full of waste lay nearby with several stray cats helping themselves to its contents. When Oz passed them by they stared at him, heads turning in unison as their eyes tracked him.

“It’s the King,” one of them murmured in cat-speech, amazed.

“Not anymore,” Oz growled, continuing on his way without pause.

He was glad for the lack of human presence on a night like this. It meant he could move faster than any human should without attracting unwanted attention. A man of his appearance had no business sprinting up Seventh Street at the speed of a cruising car, and yet he did so with ease. When he came to a large puddle he cleared it in a single leap, never losing his balance for an instant.

It should be around here, I know I heard it coming from this direction…

He skidded to a halt as another scream sounded. It echoed from the dark recess of a nearby alleyway, where a single electric light flickered intermittently. Immediately Oz felt an oppressive aura emanating from the shadows, a force of sheer wrongness permeating the rainy haze and causing his skin to prickle into gooseflesh. He only realized he was clenching his teeth when his jaw began to ache. Slowly, carefully he took the radio from his pocket and pressed the button.

“I know this stench,” he said quietly. “It’s one of Them. Put everyone on high alert.”

“A Deep One? A real Fomorian?” Oz could tell his comrade was truly afraid. “Are you absolutely certain?”

“Aye.” Oz drew in a deep breath, then let it out in a weary sigh. “Listen. Perce. You’re a good kid. A brave one. But I’m tellin’ you, you need to sit this one out. Let me handle it. I’ve been at this a lot longer than you and believe me, you’re better off stayin’ where you are.”

“Like hell I am,” Percy scoffed. “I’m your handler, Oz. You’re my responsibility. As if I’d just let you face something like that on your own. I’m coming and I’m bringing backup, all right? You just wait for–”

Oz turned the radio off. Tossed it aside. It skittered over the pavement and clanged against a metal trash can.

“Backup,” he spat, shaking his head as if the notion was ludicrous. “Guess I’m to hurry, then.”

Advancing into the alley was like pushing through a series of disgusting membranes. It was completely invisible, even to fey sight, but Oz could feel the presence trying to ward him off with a field of pure thought meant to dredge up his every fear. To a human it might have been overwhelming, perhaps enough to induce insanity, but to Oz it was an annoyance.

The closer he got, however, the worse it became. When he looked down at his hands he was greeted with the illusion of being covered in a horde of slimy things that pulsed and quivered like disembodied intestines. When he breathed it felt like swallowing bile. His sanity remained intact, his intellect coolly refuting the falsehoods, but it was still monumentally unpleasant.

So distracted was he by the psychic onslaught that he failed to realize he had found the crime scene until his foot stepped on something soft instead of pavement. When he looked down he saw a hand. Just a hand. The blood leaking out of its stump of a wrist was still fresh.

“Oh,” he said aloud, and dared to lift his gaze.

The sight that assaulted him was something not meant to exist. It was a creature whose composition had been dictated by mankind’s fear of the unknown, specifically man’s fear of what lay hidden beneath the ocean. It was vaguely humanoid but obscenely inhuman, a conglomeration of gills and eyes and tentacles that inflicted itself upon reality with malevolent iron will.

It was a Fomorian. And it was still eating what appeared to be a homeless man.

Oz considered his options. Ending this quickly meant going all-out, but going all-out meant his compatriots would have… difficulties dealing with the aftermath. The rain was still falling in copious amounts, meaning this beast wouldn’t run out of hydration anytime soon. It would be a long and ultimately costly fight that would likely decimate this part of the city.

You are afraid to give in to your true nature?

Oz hissed and covered his ears with his hands, though he knew it was a futile gesture. The question had been projected directly into his mind.

“I’m not afraid,” he snapped, unwilling to give the Fomorian the satisfaction of conversing as it wished to. “I’m just pissed off. Why are you here? There’s nothin’ for you here on land.”

I could say the same for you, the entity replied. Its tone was flat and emotionless, much like the text-to-speech voices human devices produced. Why do you continue to play human, Irusan?

“Don’t call me that,” Oz snarled. “It’s complicated. And you’re avoidin’ the question. Why. Are. You. Here?”

He awakens soon. No longer will we be imprisoned Below in the ruined depths of Atlantis. We shall walk the Earth again as we did in the days of mighty Balor. We shall shed these cursed forms and reclaim our land from the Usurpers.

At the mention of Balor Oz’s glare deepened and he clenched his hands into fists. Tufts of black fur were beginning to emerge from beneath his sleeves. As he bared his teeth at the enemy, he could feel that his canines had elongated.

“Fuck Balor,” he declared, “and fuck you. I’m giving you one chance to go crawlin’ back into the depths and that’s it. One. Or I’ll tear you apart and turn you into pâté.”

The Deep One tossed aside what was left of its dinner and regarded Oz with what could be presumed as contempt, since its features were unsuited for expressing emotion. It was a smaller variant compared to others of its kind, but it still filled the entire alleyway and towered at least two stories.

You should be our ally, it complained. Your behavior is illogical.

“I’ve never been much good at doing what’s expected of me,” Oz growled, stooping down like a coiled spring ready to unleash, sharp claws emerging from the tips of his gloves.

“OZ!”

A shot rang out and the Fomorian recoiled as it was struck by an iron bullet. Vile vapors billowed from the wound and it loosed a psychic scream that brought Oz to his knees. He could hear cries of anguish behind him as the human personnel who had come to aid him were assailed by mental violence they had no way of fighting against. Despite his own pain, he managed to turn and saw Percy still upright, albeit on one knee.

“Percy, you fool,” he managed.

The man whose face was still that of a boy scowled and raised his handgun. Blood was trickling from his nose and ears but he stubbornly persisted, firing off another shot at the eldritch being.

“I called for more backup,” Percy yelled, his teeth stained red. “I told them to bring everyone. I–”

His eyes bulged and rolled up, showing only their whites, as his body began to tremble. The hand holding his gun swayed left, then right, then planted the weapon’s barrel firmly against Percy’s temple.

Human puppet, the Deep One rumbled. Die.

Oz reached out toward Percy, fingers spreading in vain as Percy’s life ended in a bang and a spray of red mist.

A memory flashed through Oz’s mind unbidden, a crystal-clear remembrance of the day they had first shaken hands.

Hi, I’m Percival Ainsley. You must be Oz! I’ve heard so much about you. I think we’ll work well together, you and I.

As he watched the young man’s body crumple to the ground, Oz felt the last tether that had been holding him back snap.

“I’ll kill you,” he bellowed, his voice deepening into a roar as he turned to face the enemy. “I’ll kill you, I’ll kill...”

The sound of meat being skewered cut him off. The realization didn’t set in until Oz’s eyes followed the tentacles that had extended into his own torso, one shoved directly beneath his heart while the other had stabbed through his right side. The pain was oddly distant, save the immediate annoyance of his left lung collapsing.

“Kill you,” he wheezed, grabbing hold of one protrusion with both hands. It was strong but so was he; rage fueled him as he twisted the tentacle in an effort to remove it.

You have become weak, the Fomorian noted dispassionately. And with that it lifted him and slammed him into a brick wall with enough force to break through, sending up a cloud of dust as debris scattered.

The next few minutes seemed to last for hours. Oz slowly became aware of many things: the bitter taste of blood in his mouth, the pain of several broken ribs, a burning sensation that might be a punctured organ or two, and the fact that his right arm had become completely dislocated. His head felt wrong, as if his skull had cracked open like a walnut’s shell. Instead of getting to his feet as he wished to do, he could only struggle as his body refused to do more than thrash around feebly. A killing rage still burned in his chest, but it burned in vain.

“Dammit,” he swore, coughing violently. “Damn you.”

He’d been too slow. Too indecisive. Too willing to give a monster a chance to stand down, too attached to old allegiances that meant nothing now…

Percy. Lad. I’m sorry.

His left hand reached out, trembling, but grasped nothing. Then it fell and hit the floor with a dull thud.

Sounds of battle drifted to him from what seemed a far distance, though he knew they were mere meters away. Reinforcements had arrived. Oz had no doubt they would be able to kill the Fomorian, or at least harass it until it decided to flee back to the sea. But he could no longer muster the energy to care about victory or defeat. Simply breathing was a Herculean labor now.

Not again. Not again...

His last thought, as his heart ceased to beat and one last breath passed through his lips, was of waffles.

#a redux of what i posted yesterday bc i remembered the ending i wanted #my writing #reck/less #oz tag #this has bad language and violence y'all

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adelmortescryche · 7 years

Text

yoimafiaweek - day 5

AN: I. Apologize in advance, @yoimafiaweek. In my defense, the tags practically begged me to go this route. You did say go the angst route. That said, here’s my fill for day 5, ‘Healing’.

Premise: tw for character death. Victor’s a hitman for the Russian Mob, Yuuri’s a businessman. But, I promise, this sticks firmly to the prompt ‘Healing’, though it does combine with ‘Smoke’ to some extent. It’ll hurt, but this fill is aimed at being a cathartic narrative. Have some Mari POV!

She’s not sure if she should be surprised or not, seeing the familiar sight of a tall, pale haired man standing right at the spot she’s headed to.

Mari paused in place, breathing in deeply. Wondered if it wasn’t too late to just turn around and head back home. But, no, she’d already avoided coming with her parents, earlier on. Hadn’t been able to stomach it, so she’d walked out of the house and ignored the sad look her father shot her as she stepped past him. She’d proceeded to spend nearly the entire day outside, drifting through their down. Down to the beach. Most people who’d seen her out had been kind enough to give her soft nods of acknowledgement before heading their own way, not bothering her more than necessary. The evening mist had already set in, a mix of the ever present humidity and the chilling air, enough so that Mari had found herself walking the paths of her childhood home in a misty haze, the road just growing dimmer in the growing twilight.

No companion by her side except her pack of cigarettes, which she’d nearly gotten through within the day.

…he’d have been so angry with her.

It’s like a signal set off through the space between them, really. She doesn’t even need to get any closer, or do anything. Victor is somehow able to tell anyway, his gaze switching from the stone to her in a smooth arc, catching, stilling. And while it’s about as difficult to meet his gaze now as it had been, three years ago, and in each year after that… she forces herself to step forward anyway. Because, really, she owed it to all of them.

“Mari,” he murmured, when she pulled up beside him, tongue still stumbling sharper than really necessary on the ‘r’.

“Fag?” she threw back brusquely, shaking her still open pack at him.

It makes him blink, and give an involuntary snort of laughter, reaching out without complaint. His fingers still over the cardboard and packing when he notices there’s only two left, but he gingerly tugged one out anyway, not saying anything.

Good. Mari isn’t quite sure she’s ready to hear anything about her smoking habits from Victor, of all people. It would hit too close to home.

Too close and but not enough- what the fuck was she supposed to do with the gaping hole in her ches-

“So. How’ve you been?”

The words are rough, especially so since they’d tumbled free of her mouth before she could say anything else more incriminating.

Victor gave her a long look over the click and flash of his lighter, and didn’t bother saying anything, instead taking a long drag of his cigarette. The smoke that escapes his lips and nostrils bleeds into the murk of the mist laying low over the graveyard, softly limning the stone monuments surrounding them. Mari feels her heart stutter inside her chest, and looks away, blindly shaking out the last stick left in her pack.

“Here,” he said, reaching out, and she obligingly ducked in to get a light.

It’s… hard. To meet his gaze, even now. Largely because there’s a beast breathing slow and deep somewhere in the vicinity of her gut. Just waiting to be unleashed, so she could get her due.

Her brother’s blood is on the hands of this man, and she can’t even hate him for it. Not when he hates himself so much more than she ever could.

So, unable to match gazes with him, she turns her attention back to their family shrine, eyes instead tripping over Yuuri’s name, already beginning to look worn in. It makes her blink, a persistent itch tugging at the corners of her eyes, but she ignores it, making herself take a quick glance around the family grave.

Freshly washed, and an offering set into place. Flowers, aside from the ones her parents left in the morning. But that would be Victor, again. He might be a gaijin, but he sure as hell wouldn’t let his ignorance of her, their, culture let him disrespect her brother’s final resting place.

Victor sighed, the sound hoarse through the smoke filling his lungs, and Mari wants to choke.

“You shouldn’t have come. You know you shouldn’t have come.” She bit out under breath, fingers clenching around the cigarette she still held. Nearly burning herself. It didn’t really make a difference to her, though. She’d burnt herself on them enough times in the last few years.

Victor doesn’t answer, and she’s tempted to throw her cigarette right in his face. Instead, she gets it back to her lips to take a deep, calming drag that settles her, just a bit.

It’s probably for the best she hadn’t stopped by the Nishigori household to see if Yuuko-chan was interested in keeping her company. While the younger girl wouldn’t have taken any of Victor’s strong-and-silent shit, she’d probably have made enough noise to attract unwanted attention to them.

“You do know that your being here like clockwork every year on this day makes it easy to find you, Nikiforov,” the words hissed out of her in a gruff rush. Not as emotional as what had been clawing to be let out before, but maybe just as honest for that.

They made Victor shift in place, and he reached out for her empty pack so he could tap out the ash inside. She didn’t say anything more when she handed it over, and her patience was probably what actually got him to speak in the end.

“Maybe. But I can handle myself. And this is more important,” he said, soft, his accent lining up oddly with his Japanese. So much more fluent than the previous year.

The fact that he’s still trying to learn makes the empty space in her chest throb.

They remain in companionable silence, after that. It doesn’t hurt as much as it did before, it doesn’t strain her nerves. The beast sleeping within her is content waiting for another day, breathing deep. When they finish their cigarettes, both putting them out on their heels before dropping their filters into her empty pack, for the first time, she feels ready to look up and stare him in the eye until he relents, quietly following after her when she leaves.

She has no words to speak. She’s spoken her pain to the small shrine they have at home, spoken it in the dark of night when her parents are fast asleep, in the halflight of dawn when the air seems to stand still. She’s stood before Yuuri’s picture, then, settled down on her knees, craving a fag and telling herself no because there isn’t quite anything like her baby brother’s two dimensional smiling face to make a twinge of guilt run through her.

Victor doesn’t glance back either. He’s probably said all he has to say.

Her mother’s seen him, on the edges of the graveyard when they go together in the mornings. Just close enough so they know he’s there, but far enough that he could easily draw away if they attempted to say anything. Mari has no idea why he chooses to stay when she comes, but she suspects it’s because it’s too late in the day and he’s too raw and yearning to back away even when he wants to.

She understands the feeling. She feels it every time she sees him, after all. Standing like an earthbound spirit in front of her brother’s grave. If she didn’t know better, she’d think that he was tied to the grave, for all that his name wasn’t writ on the stone like family would be. That she sees him on Yuuri’s death day each year at the same place, and he just… never leaves.

The thought makes her sick to the stomach. It couldn’t be what Yuuri wanted. This couldn’t be what Yuuri wanted. So-

“You should stay. At the onsen.” She said, the words tumbling out of her again, when they’re back on the streets. Victor ignores her, of course.

He looks alien in the dark of a Hasetsu night, with them surrounded by the small winding streets and old shops and residences of her and Yuuri’s childhood. The mist had finally lifted, making it easier to watch their steps, but she keeps glancing at him instead. Fitted fully in a black suit and waistcoat, down to a heavy black trench coat over the top. The black of his tie is stark against the white of his shirt. He’s so perfectly put together he looks like he belongs on a magazine cover, or in some American spy movie.

It feels like a lie, because she remembers him looking the same when he’d appeared at the onsen well after they’d been to the crematorium and come back, and everyone had gone home. Mari’s mom had taken one look at his pale face and the emptiness of his eyes in his head and had tugged him inside without even an ounce of hesitation, no matter that it was a social faux pas for him to be under their roof at all. He’d been perfectly put together even as he gracefully took off his expensive black shoes, had followed her mother in to the family shrine, and had collapsed there like a puppet whose strings had been cut, not moving for the rest of the night. Or the nights after. Not until he just disappeared, one day, without leaving any word of where he was going, or what he planned to do next.

The emptiness in his eyes back then had made her think she didn’t want to know, what he planned to do. She almost didn’t think she’d ever see him again, not until she died herself and met both him and her brother on the other side.

Another glance to the man walking beside her makes her think that he looks… better, now. More at peace. Still tired, and a little lost, but some of the emptiness had left his eyes to make way for something else, finally. Even if she couldn’t pin point what exactly it was.

He’s closer to her in age than her brother had been, she knows. He could have been another brother to her, in another life.

He comes to an abrupt stop when he recognizes the direction Mari’s been leading them in, but she just gets a hand out and around his elbow to keep pulling him forward, ignoring the tight sound that erupted from his chest.

“I can’t,” he said, the closer they got to the onsen. “Mari, please, I can’t.”

“You can, and you will.” She returned, blunt, and kept pulling him onwards.

By the time they’re in sight of the entrance to Yu-topia Katsuki, to her home, he doesn’t look nearly as well put together as he did before. She ignores it, though, and ignores the way his eyes have gotten pinched at the corners. And the way he seems to be gasping for breath a whole lot more than he really should – she knows he’s got a whole host of reasons to be more fit than her.

It’s like something cracks open the moment they step through inside, pausing at the genkan to switch their shoes out for slippers. He staggers forward, and almost collapses on top of her. It’s a good thing she’d been expecting something like this, though, because she’d probably have collapsed like a sack of rice with a slit in its side if she hadn’t. His height and weight were more than enough to overwhelm her when she was off her guard.

Even if she was certain she could get a punch in his gut to make him stagger back, if she had to. She just didn’t want to.

“Y’know, you and my brother are more alike than either of you ever thought you were,” she said, getting his right arm over her shoulders, and ignoring the pained noise that escaped him at her words. “You’re both so melodramatic. You’d think you’d have learnt better, by now. You’re certainly old enough.”

He looks like he’s going to keel right over if she tries to move him without any additional support, so she gets her free arm around his waist, easily holding him steady. It looked like years of managing the onsen’s more drunken day guests was finally paying off, because Victor had about as much control over his long, unwieldly limbs as they did.

There’s a gasp from the front of the entryway, and when Mari looks up, it’s to find her mother standing there, hands clasped over her mouth and looking like she wasn’t sure if she should laugh or cry.

“Tadaima,” Mari said blandly, and didn’t say anything when her mom rushed to get some slippers out for them both, seeing as Victor was all but indisposed and she was fresh out of hands to do anything herself.

“He offered to have me adopted into your family, you know.”

Mari blinks at him dully, head resting against her fist and a cup of sake grasped in the other. Her father’s dozing beside her, definitely done for the night, while her mother had stepped away into the kitchen to pick up something salty for them to end the night with.

Victor’s staring into his ochoko like it contains the mysteries of the universe, not the last dregs of the sake she’d topped it with a moment ago. The image he offers up makes her snort, casually ignoring the wounded look it makes him shoot her way.

The words themselves, though…

It makes her wonder, really. What the hell had happened between Yuuri and this guy, in those few months her brother disappeared off the map in St. Petersburg? He’d headed there for a business conference, a trip that wasn’t even expected to exceed 48 hours, and the next thing she knew, he’d been calling them from a burner phone and saying that he would be out of touch for a while. She’s heard of whirlwind romances, but she hadn’t thought Yuuri would disappear on one and bring back a blushing bride at any point.

Not that Victor was a blushing bride. Even imagining it makes her want to cackle a little helplessly, because it was a terrible mental image, one that actually sends a bite of pain through a chest when she thinks of just how much fun it could have been to tease her brother about it.

Her baby brother. Off romancing Russian hitmen on business trips, calling to say that he was probably running away to America. Coming back home on ice, with a specter of a man following the shadow of what remained of him.

A specter of a man who somehow looked a lot more human now, and relatable, with all his layers thrown off, left in just a thin white shirt and his trousers, the buttons at the top gaping open because he gave in to the need to breathe after downing some five cups of sake or so. At this point, he’s barely a specter, only a man. A tired and sad man who smiled up at her mother when she came back, patting him gently on the top of his head.

“You should stay, Vicchan,” she said, in halting English. For all that she was fluent with the language, and managed well enough with any foreign tourists they might have, she’d usually just deferred to Mari and Yuuri, or even her husband, more interested in making good food and keeping everyone’s bellies full.

Her words take a moment to register, but when they do, Mari is already ready to catch the cup when it slips from Victor’s grasp.

“You should stay,” her mother said. “Yuuri would want you to stay. Even if he isn’t here anymore, we could adopt you. And you could stay.”

Oh wow. He actually looked like he was going to cry, there. Mari shot her mother a look, but her mom didn’t bother to acknowledge it.

Okay then. Apparently they were going the hard route. Gotcha.

(No one seemed to believe her when she told people that her mother and Yuuri were the cruel ones. She and her dad were just big softies at heart – but her mom could cut people to the bone with words as easily as she could do the same with her kitchen knives.)

(Yuuri had been the same. Just the same. His taste in lovers had to account for something, after all.)

“I- I couldn’t. Katsuki-san, I- Hiroko-san-”

“Mama, Vicchan.” her mother says, with about as much inexorable strength in her words as the tide of the open sea.

Mari almost thinks she’s going to see him shatter into a thousand pieces all over again. But, instead, he finds strength in some untapped reserve, and blindly reaches for her hand so he could grab at the cup she’d just caught. She lets him, because really, her mom was being hard enough that she’d have needed a drink in his place, too.

He looks almost pathetically grateful when she leans over to pour him another cup of sake.

Her mom just kept on smiling, comfortably, settling herself down beside Victor, who looks like he’s not sure if he should stay in the same place or attempt to crawl away feebly.

You’d think he’d be made of firmer stuff than this.

You’re being mean, the Yuuri voice in her head murmured, sounding amused, and she sighed, pouring herself another cup as well.

When she checks in on him the next morning, sleeping in the room that used to be Yuuri’s but is now just a guest room, he’s still there. Dozing in faint streams of light coming through the window, looking like it’s the first time he’s rested in years.

“We need to leave. It’s not safe here, you know it’s not.”

“Yuuri- dorogoy (дорогой)-”

“Vitya, we need to leave.”

“But- what if- Yuuri I can’t lose you.”

The look on Yuuri’s face when he turns to look back is as steady as a mountain weathering a storm. It makes Victor’s heart ache, a biting sweetness that fills him to the brim, almost spilling over. He loves this man. It’s a present thought, a fear - he loves this man.

“We can go to Hasetsu,” Yuuri says. “We’ll be safe there. I know we will.”

Okay. Okay, Yuuri. Okay.

#yoimafiaweek #day five #prompt: healing #prompt: smoke #pairing: viktuuri #victuuri #tw: character death #catharsis #katsuki yuuri #katsuki mari #victor nikiforov #katsuki hiroko #my writing

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