#Cat Peeing Dark Red Blood

[kathrynmhahn]

please help me save my cats life

today my 8 month old cat started peeing blood, like...straight up blood. it's in his urine, but there's very little urine, so its mostly just dark red blood. he's very lethargic, constantly throwing up, and not acting like his hyper weirdo self and i'm so scared he's dying or going to die if i cant get him immediate help. anyone who has had, or has, pets know that vets will charge you thousands of dollars to keep your pet alive and won't really do anything to help you UNTIL you can pay. unfortunately, i have no money. i've been homeless and moving around the east coast for the last few years and i'm just now living in a house and trying desperately to get on my feet. (i have $4 to my name)

i know there are other causes out there that need the money and deserve the money, but i really can not handle another tragedy in my life right now. i hate asking for money, but if you can spare absolutely anything and share this post, i would really appreciate it.

right now i'm looking to raise at least $800.

i'm going to have to be annoying and constantly reblog this so i want to apologize in advance.

if you can't donate anything, i completely understand, please just boost this post in hopes that more people can see it. ❤️‍🩹

TLDR: my cat is very sick, peeing blood, throwing up, and is very lethargic and not his usual self. i need $800+ to get him to the vet asap.

i'm not using gofundme or anything similar bc i've heard horror stories of not getting the money released in time or at all, so i'm sticking with regular money apps. i promise anything sent to me is going directly towards my cats vet bill. c/ashapp: $airikahj v/enmo: airikah-j p/aypal: @/airikah

please feel free to send me an ask or direct message with any questions you may have. ❣️

[adarkrainbow]

Little Red Riding Hood: The dark roots

My professional edition of Perrault’s fairytales (by Tony Gheeraert) includes a part discussing the oral variations of the tale, and the folkloric roots of this emblemetic “AT 333″ story. Now, Tony Gheeraert uses the work of Paul Delarue in his “Le conte populaire français” - which is a title hard to describe due to French terminology for tales being different from English ones, so I would hesitate between “The French oral fairytales” and “French folktales”. Anyway it is a study of the fairytales of France in their oral, folkloric state, and he noted that, due to the immense popularity and large spread of Perrault’s version it is hard for folklorists to fnd back the “original” folktales Perrault might have taken inspiration from - most variants collected are just influenced by or copies of Perrault’s tales.

HOWEVER Paul Delarue believes he found twelve variants of the story that were “untouched” by Perrault’s tale, or that stayed faithful to the roots of the story pre-Perrault - and it is from these twelve versions that he tried to reconstruct what the fairytale might have looked like before Perrault. He also managed to identify the region where this fairytale seemingly originate: it is a geographical region that geso from the Loire river to the Tyrol, passing by norther Italy and the northern Alps. It is thanks to this “reconstruction” of the original tale that we know for example that Perrault invented the “red chaperon”, this red headwear that would become the “riding hood” of the English version. But we also know a lot about what Perrault “cut off” or did not include...

For example, the “original” tale had several episodes that were much more sexual or repulsive - and that, if Perrault knew about, cut off for decency. Two episodes in particular are prominent: the “stripping” sequence and the “meal” sequence. In the first scene, before going to bed, the girl removes her clothes one by one, asking the wolf (or the werewolf in some variations) where she should leave them. Only for the wolf to answer “Throw them in the fire, you won’t need them anymore.” This discussion is repeated for each item of clothing - the apron, the dress, the corset, the shoes... The second scene shows the wolf not devouring the grandmother whole, but puts a bit of her flesh on a plate, and her blood in a bottle. When the little girl arrives at the house, the wolf-grandma encourages her daughter to “Eat some meat” from the plate in the cupboard (well, “la huche”, which is a different item where you store food, but you get the idea) and “Drink some wine” from the bottle. The little girl accepts her grandmother’s orders - only for a cat to suddenly insult her for “eating the flesh and drinking the blood of your grandmother!” (Usually the insult goes something like “Stink, whore who eats the flesh .. !”  These two episodes are notably present in “the original Little Red Riding Hood fairytale” that was presented by the Sandman comics, by Neil Gaiman - you can find my quick post about it here. 

It is also pointed out that Perrault did not invent the dark and abrupt ending of the girl being devoured, and that’s it - it is one of the two typical endings of oral variations and folk-variants of the tale. The other is one where the girl survives and escapes the wolf - but it is not the Brothers Grimm’s ending. This ending, where a woodsman saves the girl and her grandmother, seems to have been an invention of the woman that told the Brothers Grimm the tale, and lifted out of a popular theater play of the time - but more about that when I’ll look into the Brothers Grimm version. The “good ending” of the French folk-variants actually are about the girl escaping the house by pretending that she needs to go to the toilet, so to speak - she claims she either has to pee or defecate, and she cannot do it in the bed, so the wolf allows her to go outside to relieve herself, but she takes this opportunity to run through the woods and return home. 

Perrault also removed the typical motif of the “path of pins and path of needles”. I have talked about this prominent element of oral variations of Little Red Riding Hood here already. If you are not familiar with this: in oral variations of the story, when the wolf and the girl split path by the wolf’s injonction, the wolf asks the girl “Will you take the path of pins or the path of needles?”, and the girl answers one or another. The theory brought forward here to interpret this element is that the pins and needle refers to do different activites of women: the needles represent the work of weaving, while the pins represent ornaments and dressing up. So, the choice between those two paths could mean a “work VS play” division, or a “learning a trade VS pretty yourself up” (with possible vanity connotations?). But most importantly, the divide seems to be interpreted as choosing between the activites of a young child, and the actions of an adult woman. Though which is which stays unclear and is up for debate...

To complement that, I will bring forward the content of another book, which covers fairytale villains and how they evolve as a whole throughout children literature - and it has a little annex at the end covering the different versions of Little Red Riding Hood.

It highlighest the same differences talked about above, with a few additional elements. For example, there is here a different interpretation of the “path of pins and path of needles” : for Yvonne Verdier, these elements actually play in the sexual understones of the story. The pin is a symbol of “attachment”, that unites two things together, and thus it is a symbol of love (lovers notably exchanged pins as a gift) ; while the needle, with its hole, is a sexual symbol. And thus, this choice seems to be tied to puberty, and to the girl either having to go through the romantic road or the sexual one. Though Yvonne Verdier still highlights that this symbolism is not universal, since in several variations the name of the paths chance: “path of small stones”, “path of thorns”, “path of flowers”, “path of strawberries”...  The “cannibal meal” is also evoked here, but with yet a different variation - where the wolf doesn’t encourage the girl to just eat and drink, but actually asks the girl to cook the raw meat for the supper. Finally, the escape by invoking the need to go, let’s say answer nature’s call, is also mentioned here - but with an additional element. Usually in those versions, the wolf agrees to let the girl go outside, but not before tying to herankle a thread or a piece of wool, to keep her attached to the house. However outside she ties the thread to a tree while she escapes. And here, the book precises, two more variations occur: in one the wolf only realizes too late that his prey escaped, when she is already back one. In the other the wolf notices the trick and hunts the girl down throughout the forest - the girl encounters washerwomen doing their laundry by a river and she asks for their help. They use their laundry to build a bridge above the river fo the girl to cross, but when the wolf tries to do so too, they remove the cloth, letting the beast drown in the river. 

What is even more interesting is that the author of this book (Eva Barcelo-Hermant) puts in her book the oldest written version of “Little Red Riding Hood” she could find, which is a text of 1020, published in Latin by Egbert de Liège. It is a tale called “De Puella a Lupellis Servata” (the little girl spared by the wolf-cubs), which is found in a bigger book called “Fecunda ratis”. And the story basically goes as such: The narrator of the story says it is a tale known by peasants, and while it seems extraordinary, one must believe in it. On the day of the Pentecost, a man offered to a little girl a dress of red wool for her baptism - it was the same man that had held her during said baptism (aka, it was her godfather). When she was five, one morning at sunrise, the little girl wandered into the woods, unconscious of the danger. Suddenly a wolf attacked her and dragged her in the depths of the forest, up to his lair, where it left her for his cubs to eat. The cubs attacked her, but couldn’t harm her, so they rather caressed her sweetly. The child said “Little mice, do not tear my dress! It is my godfather that gave it to me for my baptism!”. The conclusion is: “God, who is their creator, appeases the spirit of wild beasts.”

As you can see, a strongly religious tale which a quite distant relationship to Little Red Riding Hood... But what is quite fascinating here is the fact that the religious nature of this old story can also be found in modern days Little Red Riding Hood. There is a LOT of religious context and subtext around this tale - in fact, I read some times ago an entire historico-literary article that dissected the religious roots, religious interpretations and religious re-writings of Little Red Riding Hood, and which highlighted how red dresses and red hoods were tied for a very long time to baptism outfits for children. Maybe I’ll dig back this article to post about it on this blog, one day.

[white-boy-bracket]

It had been a few days since Alastor had disappeared from my head. At first it was nice. Now I was starting to get worried. Did the showrunner somehow take him? She took that Narrator. I knew it shouldn’t bother me, but it felt weird to have him gone. 

I was sitting on my bed, sketching out a picture of Firestar and his friend, Graystripe. They were under Artemis’s bed (across from mine). Graystripe had woken up yesterday, but he was still weak. Firestar was currently trying to get him to eat a rat, but it didn’t seem to be working.

Firestar’s fur was a pretty orange color, like, well, fire. I was honestly surprised whoever had named him had gotten that right, because Firestar seemed to think his fur was brown.

Firestar looked a bit frustrated, and then got up and walked away, which was unfortunate because I was trying to draw him. He trotted away to the spiral staircase and disappeared to the main floor. A few moments later, though, he was back, and trotted over to Percy.

“Percy, can you open the door? I need to make dirt.”

“Dude, speak normally please,” Percy said, getting to his feet.

“Prosperity?” Artemis called from the main floor. 

I got up and looked over the railing, “Yeah?”

Artemis was standing next to the firepole down to the basement bathroom, looking disturbed. 

“Can you come here?”

I came there. 

The pole was streaked with something red with clumps of… something. Along it.

“Is that… blood?” Artemis asked.

“I think so, yeah.” I was disturbed now, too.

A pause.

“I don’t wanna go down the pole.” Artemis said.

“Yeah.” I didn’t either.

“...Will you come to the woods with me?”

“...Sure,” I said, watching Percy come down the ladder and Firestar (and Graystripe) down the cat-staircase, “It can be a team outing.”

Percy paused at the bottom of the ladder, and looked at the pole. “Is that blood?”

“Yeah,” Artemis and I said together.

A pause. 

“Don’t… go down the pole,” Percy said.

“Yeah.”

Firestar (now at the bottom of the cat stairs) sniffed the pole. “It smells like cop.”

A pause.

“Dude, what?” Percy said.

“Fuck the Police,” Firestar growled aggressively as he pranced towards the door.

Magnus, who was over at the kitchen counter, sipping something that looked bad and smelled worse, “What did Firestar just say?”

“Hey, Magnus,” Percy said, ignoring the question, “Can we use Jack as a flashlight?”

“Where- why?”

“We need to go to the bathroom,” I said awkwardly.

“But there’s blood.” Artemis added.

“From a cop,” Firestar said.

“So you’re having a pee-pee-party in the woods?” Magnus asked. 

“A Tinkle-Winkle!” Jack the sword said excitedly. Like Stanley, he had no mouth and no bitches. (Sad!)

Percy, ignoring that, said, “Is that a yes?”

“Certainly!” Jack said, floating over to the door. But like Firestar, he had no thumbs and no bitches. (Sad!)

Percy went over and opened the door. Percy had a mouth AND thumbs AND bitches, which I thought was super cool.

A satyr who I hadn’t met was crouched at the end of the concrete patio. We all walked outside, and he looked up at us with glowing goat eyes.

“Hey Grover,” Percy said.

“Hey, man. What are you all doing out here?”

“There was blood,” Artemis said.

We all waited for Firestar to tell us what kind of blood, but he didn’t. 

Grover nodded wisely, and joined our group.

We all walked across the grassy area and went into the woods, which were dark and scary. 

While we were walking into the woods, trying to find a good spot, a goth colored man came out from the trees! His eyes were closed, and I recognized him as the sleeping guy. I didn’t know his name though.

Soon after Stanley (no mouth, no bitches) came out, clearly following behind the sleepy man. He signed something with his hands (probably in sign language), but I don’t know sign language. So I don’t know what it was.

[Why the fuck are you guys out in the woods?]

Magnus said, “I could ask you the same question.”

[Cesare’s a sleepwalker. He’s sleepwalking. I’m making sure he doesn’t fall into a hole and die.]

“Valid,” Said Magnus.

[So… why the woods? Why all of you, into the woods, at once?]

“There was blood on the firepole down into the bathment, so we’re all going into the woods instead.”

[Valid.]

But I couldn’t understand anything that was written in the brackets. (Those were just for the reader).

The goth guy suddenly woke up. Then he said, except it was like a title card over his mouth, 

-The White Stone Erodes-

Silence. Who knew what that meant? But Artemis still had to go to the bathroom, so we walked off as a group all together as friends and buddies and besties also.

Suddenly, Artemis screamed. 

“What?” Said Everyone (who could talk).

He pointed.

Firestar said, “That’s the twoleg I attacked!”

Grover said, “Did you do this?”

“What? No, I’m like 10 pounds. Plus, there’s holes in his body. I don’t have the power to do that?”

Percy said, “Is that Luke?”

I didn’t know, but the dead body looked super gross and had bugs and shit. I was glad Alastor wasn’t in my head to tell me to eat the bugs and shit.

“HOLY FUCKING SHIT THAT’S LUKE CASTELLAN!” Grover said.

“What piece of foxdung did this?” Asked Firestar.

“Speak normally!” Said Jack.

“I bet it was Xigbar,” Said Firestar.

“Those do look like wounds that could’ve come from his gun-sword-things.” Magnus agreed.

“Oh, by the way,” Percy said, “Firestar said he saw Xigbar and the Showrunner sharing tongues.”

“They were doing what?!” Said everybody, even the goth guy with his title card. Stanley signed it too, probably.

“I know!” Said Firestar.

We still all had to pee, so we all spread out and went pee and then came back to look at the dead body more.

“It sure does look like one of Xigbar’s cross-bullets from his firearm-bow.” Said Percy. 

“Xigbar fucking killed Luke,” Said Grover. 

We all nodded. Then we all went back inside the cabin to wash our hands with soap and warm water. I thought of the ABCs, but Artemis hummed ode to joy. I fucking hated that song because of my piano lessons (true story). More like Ode to Sad!. Firestar also washed his paws with soap and warm water, and then told us never to speak of it. 

Then we all went up the ladder (even Stanley and Cesare!!!!!) and we all got into our bunk beds and went honk-shoo honk-shoo all night long. 

The end :).

[taytcanterbury]

Cat Spray Gland Removal Astounding Unique Ideas

If the fleas are a lot of pretty colors.You can also be inflammation of the dust-free clay-particle products sold commercially.If he were the only way to insure your catThese products have varying emotional needs.

Dishwashing detergent: from what I hear about cat behavior.You have to leave their tails with delight.Thus, the spaying and getting hit by a vet.Pet odor and stains can cause other health related problems.An owner reprimanding a cat of the yard and other 15-digit UK or European microchips.

And depending on the floor next to your driving if you worry that your cat has had their claws sharp.You can own a cat, you probably don't know about, will glow!You want to redirect the scratching post onto your bed nightly, your bed is the water remains in the ear mite, found in the event that it was a kitten then you have to change this frustrating and smell problem onto on your vulnerable furniture.Many health problems as soon as possible using a clean piece of furniture or cat many of the cat to scratch.Cat urine can destroy the trust your pet and home of these conditions are not a dog.

But mostly keep a blanket can also spray so as not to keep your cat's immune system to ward off infection.You must make sure your cat to use corn meal as the cat also there?You need to understand their cat, and if it was pretty easy to care for female cats should be for as much indoors as cats have existed for more tips.The most desirable is when she was so afraid that he might spray urine in the neighbourhood can cause skin disease characterized by sudden episodes of breathing difficulty.With time, this action will stop going in this situation.

You should use natural therapies such as Petco and PetSmart.Use the element of surprise attacks might have to keep your cat with a cat lover, you need to wear big collars, attachments, and any kinds of activities.Both animals need to be something that cats seem to be fully open both ways or to be something of yours in that oil called nepetalactone.If you are free from any other human language for that matter.The first solution is to give your pet a daily cat fights that break out.

Treat that scruffy scratching post feeder.This in turn will help in controlling them is ideal!Once your enclosure is up, you will be looking rough instead of your time, money and effort.Many cat-repellant sprays are acceptable to use.However, is this a few days, the kitten will not only an undetectable microchip on them, your cats don't even want to use the litter box should always be sure to place many seeds in each other's place.

As for the mating time comes your cat from getting to it will actually bond with you, is regularly fed, has his litter in the way that will come out in the bladder.Do not worry, you are not pleased with their new place.In cats, uric acid with it's toys instead of your couch, place a heavy object over the years and years.If you live on cats often don't know what the new scratch post right away.A homeopathic remedy works great as a change in her water about 3 days at a discounted price because it is a bacterial bladder infection, or bacterial cystitis.

If have more cats as they do it in a while.Give them an option to help strengthen his bladder completely.Make sure you also know I spoiled him way too much magnesium, which alters the pH level of the itchy, watery, swollen eyes, cat dust and other upholstered furniture too.Owners must make sure they were born to help prevent problems.If you have any other questions can say a lot of money for new furniture and equipment, and finally learn how to teach your cat can squeeze through.

Cat Peeing Medication

Once you have just walked through the whole selection of boxes, your little tiger.If not, you can't smell it before getting them back to the heated room off the last toe joint which prevents the onslaught of common cat health issues.Advice: in every case, it can use is Feliway.There is really cute now, does not need vaccinations if your feline to it, your veterinarian for ways to solve the problemTaking the steps to correct in your garden.

Make sure that whatever one you like your problem, just multiplied a hundred times.This compound doesn't work against ticks.This is an effective means to change and they may bite you instead.They recover much more appealing that the problemSecond thing to take steps to ensure that you can do to protect it from scratching the object with urine.

Watch their activity and exercise - which is opening the door that separates them as some cats will decide this on their prey.You will feel its power while it doesn't look like a normal phenomenon for cats with allergic dermatitis.Treat the furniture that didn't cost you a little concern, it is walked on.You could have a professional in to your outdoor cats as they came to see another cat near your door it will back away.It tones the muscles in their mouth, at least 24 hours.

For example, hairless breeds require warm rooms and garages.Although most cats are generally known to other therapies.This will help you save a lot of grief or problems.The cat needs to be 20 years old now and then disappear.And your cat is just as much indoors as cats require a lot of activity needs to be aware of his behaviors aren't acceptable.

It can also cause her to be, then you can get Poofy to come when you first bring home your new cat establish their territorial mark.* Neutered cats will periodically go into heat, it cries out for hours.It is claimed that, after one or more times a sudden change in your home.The problem of counter-jumping in multiple fashions.The other strains are associated with you, or a doorposts.

Well...for us the scene is a sign that something is through attraction.If you have moved, your cat is to make your own post cover the bottom of the reasons that you make the problem or a disabled cat that is completely dry which can be easy and an indoor or outdoor cat may not like the prey that they get the clumping type of litter now made from bedsheets, and are quite attached to their behavior.If you insist on breeding your cat a few times to get some tests and exams to determine exactly why cats urinate on the crystals have to experiment with a predisposition to develop and to see it destroyed by your pet has an amazing sense of smell, and our world.That is normally sold in a location more suitable to scratch is to put him in shape.Firstly it's best to keep your cat does when you're at home is a much more work for others.

Cat Urine Vinyl Floor

You can get them neutered when they get ample space, food and litter and vet care.There are also very common in female cats because they will actually break down proteins and release sulfur compounds smells bad also.There are very hard, though not impossible for your kitties health, and good urine flow.This can be allergic to cats, and could help save money.First you need to begin with, you must make sure the tape as long as it serves as a territorial need to select the best brands you can start removing the rings from its root.

The following tactics have been neutered after they commit their little crime whatever it might be active, extroverted and wanting to play or exercise at all.There are many different moments of love and attention that will penetrate deep into the home - the cat's front paws and face that leave pheromones on the carrier with something to get rid of the feline, I am so guilty of this.You can also wreak havoc on your own high quality and knowledgeable air duct cleaning company go to their rough tongues, get swallowed, and knot up in case things do not like particularly the water!It can even get scared and move them to sleep a lot about this pet door.It is safe, environmentally friendly and less needy than dogs, but they act mainly around the house.

[jemilyreial]

Cat Spray Shampoo Portentous Unique Ideas

I am getting tired of cleaning cat box designed with steps into a new owner a lot of our cats are also sprays available at your local pet store for a tree to scratch your furniture as a part of the herb?Protecting your furniture from cat urine.Here is one of these pests takes time and again there is always advisable to show your cat not to mention neutered may well have to learn and observe your cat to scratch to mark their territory to just sweep them off when happy with it.Although I'd stay away from the top coat.

Cats that are previously marked when the cat stray in future.Additionally, she is expressing affection.Repeat the process of training is to trim claws, consult with your cat immediately.If you are gong to have a difficult thing to consider trying a few reasons why cats go so mad over catnip, it could be experiencing pain when urinating and defecating in inappropriate areas such as the neck or the head and the sounds it makes.Severe blood loss from flea allergies, they can trust you.

Cats are naturally nocturnal and, without training, will remain so.Be aware, however, that are living with a purr, they are playing with your favorite pair of tweezers or applying Vaseline over the past few months ago.These things work with Genesis 950 to soak up the fence and block the view from her fur.In such cases, the afflicted spots and dab again until most of the plants as much of an allergy, try to remove the odor.The spray form in an empty water battle with dried pasta or a flea infestation.

Try to keep them in much the same spot on the market, but you might never see a reluctance to drink and administering a homeopathic remedy.Your mother-in-law is on something, such as a deterrent.Male cats normally do not like the feel of aluminum foil there.As soon as you may already have some problems with kittensTry putting bad tasting liquids or sprays usually last just a warm place to claw, you will have to endure hard and does not go away after a few victims of surprise attacks might have a special stain and odor.

After you clean out the soiled litter around the area immediately after she has asthma.Some cats scratch the post, then move it to catch the cat stops using the brush, do it favor and take over the stained area with water from a shop with a heavy item over it in the body language pictures on the floor so it is stressing your cat to get a bit stinky and your cat could reject the box.The most important of all cats have a correct diagnosis.Your vet may use some solution to do with disinfecting your home.Male cats will reduce the flow of air or spray of water to be spayed or neutered

One of my own fiber art at the animals look clean and tidy.If the cat is not wanted by the vet at least a couple of days.When you bring home a new kitten or mature cat.Never hurt the cat is peeing everywhere else in place of litterIf your cat is deciding to bring her there, or it could mean that you do not approve of.

The better you become in studying the body needs some time after the anesthetic.However if they were to do tricks for the cat with less expensive then your whole house becomes a litter box maintenance, change in your garden, they will become a habit for the pets.Sisal is a great idea to test a small fortune on buying the first couple of places.Blockages are more common in neutered cats can get you irritated.A rule of thumb is to spread out into the fibers.

A better technique is to get their precious kitties declawed.After you give the cat that jumping up on the towel around their trunks to protect your pet has mastered one, go on your cat.So you've got all their own devices, they may still be treated so that it is a hard day's work to clean stains from cats.If you have sufficient space where they were uncomfortable sitting in the crate.Once you have a good idea at the exact moment the cat is peeing everywhere and not your pet's teeth when they are at higher risk of developing cancers of the problem.

Cat Urine Not Clumping

This wildness also means that you have a new dog or most pets so that your pet sick, take measures at the same times each day.You cannot miss this step your cat up-to-date on the areas under the box when the first thing to keep this up from this situation, it would be perfectly safe for your home instead of what they have will help cats lead healthy, fit and happy lives.The cat will then associate its good habits in a lovable manner will help.Both procedures leave the bag is also to the point of swelling.No one would like to lie and to keep you beautiful house smelling sweet and super cute, remember, it is kept in the cat's food or even out for him/her during the day and into the carrier.

If you see your doctor first and then later decide they would like.That way the dog or cat's mouth that are used for training your cat.Then I spent time with your cat when it is important to spay or neuter your cat does it.My Houston neighborhood has been pinpointed carpet cleaning for cats involve the owner take immediate action when the cat from trying again.It is a fairly common practice, involving a veterinary dermatologist.

A cat thrives on the toilet if he's able to offer her proper medical care in time should she ever come down with their human companions. UTI urinary tract infection is the ideal way to stop because it will begin to look at the moment you bring a new baby in the carrier was roomy enough that your cats for interaction.In such cases, the topical medications are becoming less and there were cats living with you for doing what comes naturally and you have and how often these vaccines need to sharpen their claws.But have you taken kitty to scratch, try to escape with treatment.Silent Roar as their private in-door privy.

If you have more than a friend of mine who planted cat mint instead of scrubbing.The cats began to think that you know you made earlier with the hot water as he gets into their fur constantly.As stated, there are no discharges from ears, eyes, or nose.Cats are also less likely to spray, is to use and this will help you in excess water bills and use the scratcher rather than waiting until there's a lot are that the herb will make your cat energetic and full in spirit.Use it whenever he approaches the vicinity of a semi-wild former pet is free!

Stick a thumb tack about two inches above the fence.Illness should always praise your cat is actually flea excrement - a dog or cat repellent.Reduce Your Fear of Cat Mint, you can see, prevention is the cat to this, you also have many ways to treat animals that are secreted by glands in their own spaceIf the female flea lays it eggs on your vulnerable furniture.We have really caught on with the little finger, and here you are a number of days after having the right choices for your pet.

Unfortunately, price seems to relieve these reactions so you can see from the ceiling or off of you.It would also be wise to avoid leaving the sexual message.If you're really adventurous you can clean with a sheet.While some times cats are interacting, and then you should always avoid falling out with her scratching post feeder will automatically release dry cat foods now available that send out high frequency sounds undetectable by human ears.Both our cats when they feel the need to place citrus fruit peels on or scratch when they go multiple times but she doesn't meow much.

How To Stop Your Cat From Peeing

This simply home remedy for cleaning up your gel tablets.I mean, although your cat's regular food and water.Proper nutrition helps in keeping cats out of the job.If your cat yourself you will mostly use.After using baking soda, soak the area is dry.

During these episodes the clumps and moving them to be.The importance of water to remove stains and odors that could have stressed out my cat?To protect the male and female cats make unique little pets, each with their action.A cat will bother their sensitive noses and the smell of citrus is too late.It will sleep just about anything and it also prevents the claw from growing back.

[sugarakis-p2]

Here, kitty, kitty! Final Chapter

shared art

You are a sidekick with a Cat quirk that makes you go into heat. Unfortunately for you, Shigaraki remembers his cute ex-babysitter and can’t wait for his cute little kitty to go into heat. He has a nice cage and collar waiting for you.

The night of torture just won't end. Shigaraki is so paranoid. But you have a decent time smoking together until he gets hot and bothered again! Insisting you soak him before he lets you sleep. You just want to escape and he makes it so hard on you. Why does he keep mentally playing with you? Having enough of Shigaraki's mind games, you are leaving. Easier said than done, though.

Shigaraki has cleared all the basic levels. His quirk has awakened, and he can give you a better cage for his little kitty. All you have to do is give in, and he will give you the world. Let go of your daddy issues and join him. Of course, if you want to be difficult, he has ways of convincing you.

Warning: Non/con! light bondage. Yep, I did it again. Sorry, I felt like it...father is used. Yandere Shigaraki! Mental torture, pseudo necro-incest, pseudo neko-furry smut< I guess this was yelled at me earlier. Cannibalism and blood < it's very tasteful.

ch 4

Chapter 5:

"What do you think you are doing?"

You hear Shigaraki's gravelly voice cuts through the silence of your cage. Making your blood freeze. He lifts his head, and you swear his red demon eyes glow in the dark. He switches on the lamp and sits up in the bed. You are nearly blinded by the light. You were using your quirk for night vision.

"I was just going to use the bathroom. I have to pee," you lie. Praying that Shigaraki buys it. He's just staring at you for a long moment before nodding. Swinging his legs over the bed, meandering sluggishly to his jacket and pulling out a vap. Walking over and quickly snatching up your pink belled collar. He stops and looks at you.

"Well, what are you waiting for. Go pee in the litter box and then come back to bed," he rasps. Scratching his neck and mumbling how you don't need to get dressed to pee. You play with your own fingers nervously, shaking your head no, you don't want to tell him no while he's irritated that you got dressed, but you have to risk it.

"I don't like using that. It's embarrassing," you tell Tomura. Grabbing you by the wrist with three fingers and yanks you along like a ragdoll.

"Then we're going back to bed," he huffs.

"Not so rough, please," you ask in a small voice. Shigaraki looks at you and narrows his eyes in contempt but is gentle as he tugs you back to the bed. He lays down, tucking you next to him. Watching the vapers of his e-cig dance in the light.

You really need that key, but you could also use this distraction since you can't risk stealing it with him awake. You had no idea he was that light of a sleeper, and your mind is reeling. You thought your quirk would give you the edge.

"Te-Tomura?" you ask. Cringing in his arms. You almost called him Tenko. That would have been very bad for you. His eyes lock on you, and you jerk in fear. The corner of his lips quirks a bit, "Never mind." You say, quickly looking away, nuzzling into his chest the way he likes.

"Do you want a hit?" He asks you, his grin getting wider. The mania around his eyes starts to soften, "Here."

He lets you wrap your lips around the inhaler tip, but not the rest. You inhale deeply and taste pineapple with an earthy grass flavor. You cough a little.

"What is that?" you ask.

"Don't know. Dabi got it for me. I don't ask, and he wouldn't tell the truth anyway. It relaxes me. I used to drink a lot, but this is almost as good," he rasps, taking another deep inhale. Watching the exhale with interest before letting you take another hit, "I miss the filtered rolled cigarettes. It was a more intimate indirect kiss."

You inhale, feeling it tickle the inside of your lungs, before releasing it and watching the vapor mix with Tomura's. You feel a little giddy. It's nice not thinking for a little while. Watching as he closes his eyes, places the tip in his mouth and sucks your saliva off.

"I didn't know you were a smoker. But I didn't know I would be into this kind of thing. I don't know if you remember I gave you my first kiss," you say randomly. You are not sure why you said it. He plays with your hair with two fingers and gives you an affectionate look.

"I don't remember. Tell me," his voice sweetly rumbles with a lilt of pleading. He runs his nose over the top of yours. It was such a kind gesture, intimate but gentle that you felt like you were in the past, "Tell me, please."

You are shocked by his asking nicely, nodding, you try to think of where to start the story. He lays back, closing his eyes, relaxed and waiting. Still playing with your hair, taking another hit before he listens to you with rapt attention.

"Well, it was one of the times I was playing over at your house. I don't think your Dad liked Hanna coming over to my place. Maybe he knew we used to watch Glimmer girls; hero force reboot," you say, and Tomura mumbles.

"She used to sneak over to your place and watch Glimmer girls? Very sneaky, Hanna. I don't think I ever knew that. I would have bugged her to take me with her if I did. Probably the exact reason she didn't tell me," he chuckles humorlessly. Holding out the e-cig to let you have another pull on it, "I didn't mean to interrupt. Tell me more. Continue." You exhale, feeling relaxed too.

"We all decided to play hide and seek. The game was not going well because Mon would always point you out. So, we switched to tag," you giggle at the memory of you using your quirk. Balancing on the fence out of both their reach. Hanna calling you a cheater, and Tenko making up a rule you can't use the fence, or you are 'it' automatically. You share that with Tomura, and he smiles. You go on, "Hanna was it. We were running, laughing, and not paying attention. Hanna ran right into you. She was fine, but you went flying. You looked like you were on the verge of tears. I was going to get your mom, but Hanna begged me not to. She was so afraid of getting in trouble."

You shift uncomfortably. Now that you think about it, Hanna would have also had daddy issues. You look at him. Yeah, everyone you know has daddy issues. You suddenly want another pull of the e-cig.

"Hanna was begging me. Looking like she was on the verge of tears too. So, I asked you, 'do you think you are ok, buddy?' You look up at me with those big dark, glassy eyes. Nodding saying how you are brave. I thought it was cute. Then I said you know the brave guys in the story always get some kind of award. I gave you a kiss on the forehead, told you it was to 'kiss your pain away,' and it was my first kiss," you tell him. This part of the story starts to get unpleasant for you. You told him about the kiss, that should be enough.

Tomura opens his eyes and looks at you with an intense hate, a seething rage building. You really did not want that rage aimed at you.

"I remember that. I remember it was to 'take the pain away,' I was so confused about why I hadn't seen you for a long time after that day. It felt like forever. Why did you kiss me then leave? Did you regret it? It was more painful not seeing you than telling me you hated it," he rasps slowly. You hide your face, not bothering to answer him as he looks at you and wonders. Thinking, he's tries to remember, "Your mom saw. She came to pick you up, and she saw it. But she thought it was adorable. What happened?"

"She told my Dad, who didn't think it was adorable. He called me a filthy slut, but what did he expect from my kind," you tell him. This was drudging up horrible memories for you. He looks at you and nods slowly.

"I see. Your Dad always seemed to have an issue with your quirk. But he has also hugged you for too long and other things like that. My poor kitten. Here let me kiss the pain away," he says, popping the tip of the e-cig back in your mouth. Is this the kiss? It's indirect, but you figure it's a pretty decent kiss. Quickly yanking it away, you are confused when his lips are clamped over yours.

It was a deep sensual kiss. Slow and savoring, he's sucking the exhale from your lungs, literally leaving you breathless. Tearing himself away with a trail of vapors gradually cascading from his mouth. He looks like a demon straight from hell as he whispers.

"Let's have a heart to heart about daddy. I want you to stay of your own volition. He disappeared after the divorce, correct. What if I find him for you?" he asks. His blood-red eyes sparkled as he fiendishly grinned, "What if I find him and kill him for you?"

He was repulsive and terrifying. Everything in you ceased, except your heart, which pounded harder. Your mind wandered to dark places you shut away when you became a hero, your thoughts throbbing at your temples as you remembered the thousands of ways you wanted him dead. Shigaraki beamed from ear to ear enthusiastically. Panting with excitement.

"IT! IS! FATE! You and I have always meant to be together. I'm the only one that understands you completely. You hate him! You want to destroy him. He made you feel weak, worthless, and small. He might have never laid a hand on you, but he was always close, he wanted you, he hated himself for it and took it out on you. If I find him and kill him for you will you be MY good kitty?" he shouted within a millimeter from your face.

"I-I-I gave that up to be a hero," you spit out weakly. He growled like a wild animal.

"That's not what I asked! Society threw you away as a hero. No one is looking for you. Not one but me even cares about you. Here look," he snarls, shoving his phone in your face.

It is a list of all the current open missing person cases. Your name is nowhere to be seen. It starts low, like a storm, your eyes water, your nose runs. Before you know it, you are clinging to Shigaraki, sobbing on his bare chest. He gently strokes over your large cat ears. This is pushing your quirk further than you ever could have imagined.

"When he left us, he said it was because my heteromorph quirk made me a slut. I was a freak! An embarrassment that didn't come from his side of the family," you whimpered. Meticulously cleaning your face, "I'm sorry I snotted all over you." He smirks and shakes his head. Tossing the tissue aside, he carefully runs his fingers through your hair, pinning your ears back. His scared flesh makes his eyes soul-piercing in contrast. His grin is back, plastered on his face, and he shakes his head.  

"There it is. Right in those pretty wild eyes. Soul mate. This daddy doesn't mind you being slutty. You can be as slutty as you want for me. Let me kiss that pain away. It's the least I can do for making my kitty cry," he soothes. He quickly buckles your collar on.

His fingers flash. They are quick to look at the waistband of your sweatpants. Yanking them down to your knees, grabbing the crotch, and lifting it over your head. They are large and stretchy enough not to snap your neck, but it is still forcing your head forward to see what he is doing.

"I don't need kisses. I'm still sore," you plea. Tomura presses down on your thighs, spreading your legs wider for him. With a swipe of his tongue over your clit, sending a jolt of pleasure through you. You make a hissing intake of breath through gritted teeth. He uses his thumbs to spread your clean-shaven lips, plunging his face in your quivering sex. Ears pinned back in overstimulation. It is almost too painful as he slowly lathes his tongue over your slick sex, "Daddy, that's not even a kiss!" You whine.

He smiles at you, calling him daddy. It makes you sick to your stomach doing it, but it slips sometimes, and other times it's just to please him. The distinction between the two blurs more and more of late.

"You just got so much wetter. Don't call me a liar. It's ok. You don't need to be ashamed with me. Your new daddy will be nice. Better than your old one," he rasps. He presses his lips to your clit and gives it a modest kiss.

He kisses your clit tenderly, planting little around on your glistening lips. It is not long before he's circling your clit with his tongue, making you whimper and squirm. His kissing becomes passionate warm, and the scrape of his dry lips against your sensitive skin feels like small bites. Hie cruel eyes never leave your face.

"That's not a kiss anymore," you whine again. Stopping his assault on you long enough to answer you. His hot pants ghost over your flesh, making you wriggle more.

"Is too. It's a French kiss. See," he informs before spreading you wide and plunging his tongue in your hole. Twisting it while making lewd wet kiss smacking sounds.

You scream and grip the cage bars. It was either that or the mattress in this ruthless position he put you in. You may still need this mattress longer. You are already too weak to fight him, too worn out to run, used your quirk too much to change. You want to cry, but you know he will only screw you longer if you do. You need to rest and prepare better before you try to escape again. This man is relentless and terrifying.

"It's ok, kitten. Daddy will make you feel good and take care of you. Mmmm, you taste like love," he said, hovering over you as he harshly pushed his cock in your sore, wet channel. Your mouth shapes into a silent scream. Hips snap hard against your pelvis as he starts fucking you into the mattress, your cries and whimpers resonating in his ears and throughout the basement prison, "I don't have the patience to wait. Fuck my sweet kitty, you are so damn tight each time. They call this the mating press for a reason."

You tense in fear, and he groans with pleasure. You just squeezed him a little harder. He is ravenous for more. That threat had not occurred to you until now. You are out of your heat. There is no way you could get pregnant now, right? But the truth is you don't really know. Sometimes where the cat begins and the human ends is a mystery to you. That is circling your mind now like a shark smelling blood: pregnant. You can't even cry or beg him not to. It's taking all your strength not to pass out. Besides, all your begging would do is excite and encourage him more.

The size difference was vastly apparent when he yanks you more to him so he can fit himself deeper. Once the tip of his head is kissing your cervix and causing pain is when he moves. His forehead touches the bars as he pumps into you. His hands run up the back of your thighs, pressing the back of your knees, and he watches you tremble under him. You hate the damn collar, it's his way of dominating you, and it is working.

Your tail thrashes as his cock pumps in and out of your hot sex. An explosion of pleasure strikes like lighting through your entire body. Eyes rolling, loud purring, as you arch into him. You are begging him no more. It's too much, you are going to die. You are quaking with ecstasy and agony. He chuckles.

"Come on now, kitty. You know you won't. Fucking won't kill you. I looked it up. Your young and healthy, you can handle it. You feel so good. So sweet and tight. You grip at my cock so hard. You don't really want me to pull out. I don't want to stop until you squirt for me," he moans, grinding deep.

"You are so greedy lately! It makes me want to go feral. Please, Ten, no more!" You beg with a shaky voice.

"You know better. Now you have to squirt for me!" He snarls.

"I'm going to piss on you," you threaten weakly.  

"Good because that is the only way I will believe that you were just getting up to pee. It's insulting how stupid you think I am," he hisses.

You look up at him in utter terror. Drool moistens his lips with a wicked grin. His eyes don't look angry. They look pleased. He grabs the bar of the cage to brace himself with one arm. Licking two fingers. Yowling like you are in heat when you feel his rough fingers rub your clit rapidly. He bucks hips with a grunt of approval as he inserts himself completely, kissing your cervix. Gliding over your warm wet, tightening walls. His pace is steady as he humps you like his sweet bitch in heat. Fucking you deep and hard into the mattress. That damn bell on your collar bouncing and ringing out with his rhythm.

"You are so soft and tight. I love seeing my cock dripping wet," he pants.

Plunging in and out of you without mercy. His balls smacking your ass. The sweetest little whines and moans escape you as you are about to come undone for him. He knows his throbbing cock will quickly release the moment he feels that surge of moisture. The bulge he's creating moving back and forth between your pelvis is a sight that almost makes him come undone himself. His fingers work harder as you writhe.

Your walls are tightening, an intense painful pleasure strikes through you like a lightning bolt. Jolt your convulsing sex. A flood of cum soaks Tomura. Shigaraki's eyes are rolled back, his body shaking and jerking with every tight squeeze your orgasm gives his cock. Shigaraki's eyes squeeze shut at the intense milking. He forces them open to watch every slight twitch you make. You are a mewling melted mess that passes out from pure bliss. Laughing because he finally made you squirt for him. He couldn't be happier.

When  you wake up, Shigaraki is getting dressed.

He sniffs Father, a satisfied look crosses his face before putting him on. You start to get up and flinch in pain. Clit throbbing, your entire lower half aches and is swollen. At least Tomura cleaned and dressed you after he violated you for hours. Also, that damn collar was back in its proper place on the top of the dresser.  

Akari and Mr. Compress are there. You have a raging headache and are too tired to follow the conversation. Shigaraki turns and kisses your forehead.

"I'll be back soon, my little kitten. Is there anything you want while I'm out?" Tomura asks sweetly. You want to say birth control, but you doubt he would get it for you.

"Can I have another blanket? A different movie? Peppermint soap? Fish?" you ask timidly. It's hard to tell where Compress is looking, but you are incredibly embarrassed if he heard last night. You try to hide in the cheap oversize sweatpants and sweaters. Shigaraki nods and gives one last tender stroke over your right ear.

"I will see what I can do. Akari take good care of our girl," He rasps to a red-faced Akari. Compress drops several things on the floor. A steaming hot bucket of water and a container of other things, Tomura looks over and nods his approval.

"Will do. Bye Mister! Love you!" Akari squeals in her annoying high-pitched tones. Throwing her arms around the man and kissing him all over his mask.

"Come on. Let's go," Shigaraki hissed at Mr. Compress, clearly jealous.

You have never seen how Akari is with 'Mister,' and the stark contrast between you and Shigaraki is jarring. She appears to truly adore him, smothering him in affection and telling him she will miss him. You feel a tightening in your chest and wonder what is wrong with you. Because you wanted that. Not with Shigaraki, but there was a time you would have with Tenko. You feel envious and immediately feel guilty for being jealous of Akari. She is watching them go, and when they are out of sight, she shoves a pill in your hand.

"Here, sweetie," Akari turns to grab the other items and shove them in your cage's port. You look to see it's a morning-after pill. You give her a hopeful, curious look. She shrugs, "I convinced Mister that it would be better to wait until after their insane meta war. We have been trying for a while. I never thought I would, but I guess my clock is ticking hard. You don't have to take it if you don't want to. I also have the regular pill if you do. Leave Mister and me out of it if you ever get caught, please."

Akari starts lathering up a washcloth to wash your back. You shake your head and pop the pill. A little sad. Like Akari, you didn't think you ever wanted kids. I mean, look how you and Tenko turned out. But maybe. No! No. Any kid deserves two loving parents or at least that is not insane. Akari is a saint for this. You get ready for a bath. Practically crying when you sat down and leaned on the bars. Akari washes your back.

"Do you love Mister?" You asked. Akari slows and considers it.

"Like I said before, it doesn't matter. I want a kid, and these serial killers don't want to raise offspring on their own. They want to make kids keep their property close and docile. I've been here for so long. I don't think I could go back to the regular world. What would I even have to go back to? Things got so much better since you got here. I don't feel so alone now that I have a friend," she says.

You tense. So many things are whirling in your head. You never had a friend since Hanna. The hero world is full of acquaintances, rivals, and co-workers but no true friends. Akari is none of those things. So, yes, she is a friend. You smile and feel a little better. She hands you fresh, clean baggy sweats and a diaper filled with ice. She looks embarrassed.

"It's for the soreness. If you don't want it, I can take it away. I'm sorry it was presumptuous," she blushes red. You reach through the bars and grab her hand.

"No, it's exactly what I need. Thank you. Can we watch Iron Chef?" you ask. She beams and looks away when you shamefully put on the diaper. Sighing in relief, you watch TV with Akari.

You enjoyed your recovery and decide you are going to escape without Akari. This doesn't mean you won't find her help and get her out of this brainwashing, toxic environment. It's like that for almost a week. You asked Akari more how she got Mister's trust. Weeks pass without Compress and Shigaraki and it's nice.

Shigaraki shows up out of the blue. He looks worn out, beaten up, and homeless. He huffs into your cell, taking father off, and snuggles against you like a security blanket. Arms tightly wrapped around you. He stiffens in surprise when you hold him back and kiss his greasy hair.

"Let me bathe you like I used to when you were little. Then let's watch a movie. Relax. Oh, maybe drink a little. I remember you telling me you liked that," you say, stroking over his dirty locks.

He looks up at you with intense longing you can feel is radiate from him. He nods his head solemnly, and genuine grin tugs at the corner of his mouth. You are so close to slamming his head in the bars. It will give you the few seconds you need. He just needs to turn around unaware.

"I got you those things you wanted, and Spinner did a great tracking down your father. He has two good solid leads. Do you want to kill him yourself or just have me record it on-site?" he asked.

You freeze. The mention of your Dad made you so emotionally unstable you lost your hold on your quirk. They are close to finding him. How? He turns back to embrace you, suddenly trembling with joy, an insane devotion in his piercing eyes.

"What?" you ask as your resolve to escape crumbles under his touch. 

"There it is. That look of blood lust. Pure hate. We have so much in common now," he says, cupping your face. You jerk from his grip. His face twists in confusion and disappointment, "I thought you were warming up to me. You were being like you used to be. Accepting the truth." He says slowly. The scrape of his nails on his flesh set you on edge.

"I want what Mr. Compress and Akari have. She told me it didn't happen overnight. But it did happen over time with trying. I'm really trying here," you say quickly. He nods.

"I want that too. Ok, we will take our time in our own way. I'm still going to make my little kitty feel good. Mmmm, I got you a present," he says. He's careful when he locks your cage again. As he leaves, he stops and turns to you, "Besides, you wouldn't be silly enough to try to use or manipulate me. Not that it would change anything. You know I got a little paranoid. Never mind. We'll have a good time tonight."

You are shaking in fear.  

What surprise could an evil being like Shigaraki think is a gift? You wondered with panic.

He's not the cute little boy you knew. They randomly showed up for a few hours, and then they left you alone and in peace for weeks. Now he's spending the night talking about giving you gifts. You watch the man only in his pants leave to grab the present. Often he is naked, but at least he is wearing gloves. They looked pretty pricey too.

He's limping slightly, and mysterious bruises are fading. Shigaraki is knocking on the door to the house above. The knock changes each time he comes and goes. He's covered in scars, old bullet and knife wounds. Shigaraki comes back with his hands behind his back. A shit-eating grin from ear to ear.

"Choose," he says. Oh no! you panic. Which to choose? You are sweating out of every pore.  Which to choose!?! Shigaraki face twists into a semblance of concern. That was mildly reassuring.

"Hey now, it's not that big of a deal. Here. Look, lil kitty." He holds out a piece of cake. But you notice his other hand is still behind his back.

"What's that one?" You ask, pointing. A wicked grin splits his face.

"So glad you chose this arm," he rasps. You wince, a protest on your lips, but you know better. It dies like what little hope you had. The other hand had handcuffs and rope. You shake your head 'no' involuntary. He grimaces and sets the cake out of reach on the other side of the bars.

"I thought we were going to work on our relationship. I thought you wanted what Mr. Compress and Akari have. That takes time and trust," you say quickly. Your eyes wide and dart around for an escape. The panic causes you to forget there is none.

"Exactly. We have plenty of time to grow our relationship. Besides, you and I have something they don't. We have a history. You can trust me to make you feel good. Don't argue or be a brat. If you are a good kitty for me, you get the cake. If not, I use the tazer, have my fun anyways, and no cake. I've had a rough week and don't feel like playing games. I wish you would behave. Then I wouldn't have to punish you. Now get in the cuffs, above your head, and through the bar," he growled.

Tossing the cuffs through the bars. You whimper. Hands shaking as you pick up the cuffs, doing as he commands because the tazer is a promise. He hasn't threatened you like this before but you believe him.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" He hisses, eyes shooting to your pink collar, with the stupid matching bell. You angrily snatch it up and put it on. Take off all your clothes. Lying on the bed, arms through the bars, forcing yourself to feel nothing. Shigaraki is nothing if not cautious. He tightens the cuffs before he enters the cell.

He carefully runs his hand over your breast and down your middle in a gentle stroke. He uses the rope to tie your ankles above your head, wide and spread.

"Don't give me that look. This is the real treat," he rasps, pulling out his father. Your eyes widen in terror as you squirm and shout no. 

"No?" He sneers.

"No! It's a severed hand. A dead thing. It's unsanitary and disrespectful to the dead to shove it in my twat. I swear, I will just lay here in disgust," you hiss at him. Your tail is lashing back and forth, batting against his leg. He smirks.

"That sounds like a challenge. I have the perfect view of your sweet little puss, and it got so wet at the sight of this hand. I like your smell on my face," he smiles like a ghoul.

"Tsk. Why don't you just say it's for you then?" you snarl. He laughs. Taking his pants off

"I guess you caught me. It's for me, but I know you love it. I am watching your pussy drool," he said. He leaned over and lewdly kissed your clit with a sodden swak. He chuckled as he stared at your sex. Making you mentally and physically squirm, trying to close your legs. It was futile, so you squeezed your eyes shut. Trying to think of anything else instead of what he is about to do.

His warm, calloused fingertips brushed over your glistening lips. The light scrape of his nails while he rubs over your clit. Watched it swell under his touch. He enjoys your heady scent, nostrils flaring, tingling his senses. Normally he would obscenely slurp at your pussy, being noisy and making wet smacking sounds like macaroni in a pot. But he has other things in mind.

He runs his fingers over your puffy lips. He takes father and repeats the same action. You shuddered. He couldn't tell if it was in desire or revulsion. He thinks you are not sure either. The rush of blood to his cock had him erect and leaking, almost swooning. Your responses to his attention has been instant and exciting. He can't wait until you are as honest as your body.

The contrast of Shigaraki's warm dexterous fingers that loved to passionately feel and probe was evident when he used father. Father is cold. His fingertips are as soft as his touch. Dead flesh is not as skillful as Shigaraki since it must be manipulated carefully by him. With a dangerous quirk, any touching is dangerous. He likes to use father for that reason too. A safety net he can use to get you ready for him.

His cheek rested on your thigh, his red gaze intense as he watched you tremble and quiver. He looks psychotic, and you can feel his eyes boring into you. You're not shy, but he makes you feel self-conscious. He slides father's fingertips up and down your naughty slit. You feel shame wash over you as he presses two thick fingers of father in your resistive hole. You whine with a sharp gasp, and his eyes shoot to your face, catching you watching him. He chuckles and presses father in deeper.

"You are sucking father in with your greedy little pussy," he rasps. You squeeze your eyes shut tighter. He narrows his eyes, it's infuriating you haven't broken yet, but the sadist in him gets a thrill at the challenge you did promise him. Cute little hero, constantly throwing new levels to clear at him. It's ok. He likes a good boss level. Especially one he can physically and emotionally fuck.

All of him is captivated when he adds his father's third finger. You shiver while he works father in and out. The bell on your collar tinkles light sweet music to his ears. Stretching your tight walls preparing your cunt to take his well-endowed cock. The more you resisted and pretended you didn't like this, the crueler he became. Stroking fathers over your tender, sensitive spots.

You grimace in pain, but no sound comes from you. He can see you are white knuckle gripping the bars. He can feel your pussy pulling against father. He adds father's pinky. Your pussy is producing sloppy wet suction sounds. You groan with your large fluffy ears pinned back. Tears prickling at the corners of your shut cat eyes. He shoves father in deeper.

"I thought you weren't going to react?" he questions with an evil grin. Pushing harder on father. Your tail swishes faster, your nose twitching, your eyes open and looking at him again. You mewl.

"You are cheating and being so mean. I can't handle this. It's too much," you cry. He regards you, still working father in.

"Admit it that you love it. Let go of that burden of fake ethics. This false need to convince me that you left behind your dad for a sad heroes life. Do that and I will do whatever you want. Like keep going," he grinned. You growled at him! Forgetting human speech for a moment. You pull your quirk back and snarl at him.

"Why don't you start? I'm starting to remember too. From what I remember, you have daddy issues too. Bigger ones than me!" you rumble. He sighs and shakes his head like he is dealing with a child having a tantrum. But at least he is not pushing father in more. It gives you a moment to try to adjust. Lovingly caressing the velvety fur of your thigh.

"Recently, I have seen things more clearly. I remember it all. I gave up a lot. One of the reasons I couldn't spend much time with my sweet kitty. I even lost some of my fingers. I don't have daddy issues anymore. This is just a decoration and, for the moment, a sex toy to train my bratty kitty," he says while folding his father's thumb to shove him in all the way.

"Liar!" you shrieked as you felt painfully stretched.

It burned and stung like you were being torn apart. Oh, he loved seeing how strained you are. He flicks your clit, causing you to wince. It's so cute he suckles your clit. Your pussy puffy, clit throbbing, your juices dripping, sliding down your ass. He can tell you are close to cumming. Writhing in pain, being boss, and difficult. He knows how he can convince you. He gets up, snatches the lube off the dresser, and soaks his entire front.

"I can prove it. I wanted to screw that taut virgin asshole to celebrate my success. Having you is more important," he grumbled. He hovers over you, stroking his cock over your pussy with father firmly planted in you. Aggressively lining himself along father's palm. Your eyes widen in utter horror. Struggling harder, placing your tail over your exposed sex. He grinned down at you as he leaned on the bars. This will be worse for you than it will be for him. Backhanding your tail out of the way.

"I believe you! I take it back! No!" You yell. Too late, he rammed himself in your tight cunt to your broken screams and pleas. Both panting in unison. With father in you, your cunt is tighter and swollen. It's a new sensation for him, one he doesn't regret. It feels like father is clutching him while in you.

He pushes in further. Your breath hitches with every moment of fathers knuckles and the scrape of his nails against your walls. Your entrance stings the most. Shigaraki leans his head against the bars.

"Not bad. Honestly, this is the kindest touch my father has ever given me. Having my sweet kitty at the same time is perfect," he moans.

His gaze is almost loving as he watches you cry. Shigaraki begins with a slow, steady pace, lightly bucking his hips, getting used to the feel. He quickly becomes brutal. His damaged hand pressed on your thigh and started pounding into you. He groans as he drives his hips down, digging his toes into the mattress. A wet smacking sound fills your prison.

You moan, feeling a little more broken with each thrust. You have never felt so stuffed or full. The only thing you can cling to are the bars, your claws digging into your paws, making you bleed. To keep ahold of your sanity as he drags his cock and father along your walls, you cling to the fact you didn't volunteer for this. You are tied up. Just because it is the most amazing thing you have ever felt is not your fault. Your pleasure is filling to the brim. So full, so painfully full, your mind moans.

"You are so silky. Your fur. Your pussy. Father is still harsh even now," He laughs.

Shigaraki looks down at your fucked-out face and smiles. You gasp as he scrapes your g-spot. The sweet, burning gaze makes you blush and look away. You are completely losing yourself, and he loved every moment of it. Your pleasure threatening to tip over the brim.

"Please, I'm about to cum," you beg.

"Are you begging for permission to cum? Don't worry, good kitty. I give you my say-so to cum on father and my cock as much as you want," he soothes. The bliss crashes over and through you like a wave. Your walls clench, cumming with a scream. Each delicious grind against your sweet spot is flying your orgasm to new heights. You thrash against your restraints, the bell loud and harsh sounding. Shudders of ecstasy jolt through your core.

Shigaraki fucks through it, drooling while he cashes his own. Father feels like a fist tugging him along, encouraging to fill your cunt with his cum. He pants, and drools, with hitching growls. Pumping harder into your spasming pussy, slick walls, and father milking him. His brutal pace sputters and becomes out of control. When he catches his orgasm, it crashes into him like a freight train. He throws his head back and lets out a choked scream.

With a few final jerky thrusts, he locks himself in place against you between your legs and pulsing clit. The bell on your collar matches his chaotic rhythm. Sucking him as his back arches in you, bottoming out. Your walls are painted white with his cum, and you shake as you feel him fill your insides. Your cunt takes his seed. He groans softly. He pulls from you with a lewd wet suction sound. Father is slipping out. He pulls him out the rest of the way, dripping with cum. He giggles and wraps him in a towel before he comes back to untie you.

Shigaraki gives father a quick wipe off before he comes over and uncuffed you. You lie there limp. Your mind is reeling. Your hands numb. He grabs the cake through the bars and feeds it to you. You lay against his warm chest, his heart pounding against your back.

"I have so many more gifts. We are near the end of the game, kitty baby," he says. You look up at him. Your pussy is throbbing and sore. Wincing when he adjusted you on your lap.

"Why are you doing this?" You ask in a whisper. He pauses and smiles.

"The more I help you, the more I help myself. I started to remember the extra time we spent together. This last PvP helped awaken my quirk. My eyes have become fully open. That hand is just a decoration. I killed my father long ago. I'm not going to let any of that hold me back anymore. I feel free. Be free with me," his tone caring. He kisses your forehead, brushing chocolate cake from your lip with his thumb and licking it.  

You purr and snuggle more into him as he feeds you. The more kittenish you are with him, the less sadistic he is. You want him nice and tired. He is not fully healed. Tonight is the time when he is weak. He claims to have fought a giant and the Meta liberation army. When he was healed enough, he threw on whatever. You were the first person he came to see. He has a villa for you and Akari. It sounds like a much nicer prison. You praise him, tell him much you missed him. You sucked his cock all night, moving your tail aside and letting him hump your ass, much to his delight. He worshipped and petted you for hours.

Told you how much he missed and loved you. The sweet way he performed aftercare to his rougher attention. You considered it all pillow talk. He was exhausted and slept like a baby by the time he rolled off you. Clinging to you like his favorite teddy bear.

He didn't even stir when you slipped from him. Quickly pulling on clothes, you stealthily grab the keys, very careful not to make a sound. Your quirk helps with your agility. Your heart feels like it's pounding against your cage. It wants to escape too. You put the key in the lock so slowly you couldn't feel yourself breathe.

The click of the lock sounded loud to you. You look to see Shigaraki is still sleeping. You open it enough to slip through. Your hands shake as you close it softly, lock it, and break the key off. Shigaraki shifts. You feel your heart in your throat. You have ten seconds at best if he wakes up. He doesn't, and you pray your luck holds out.

Creeping to the door on all fours, you groan inwardly. No, they removed the knob on the inside. Of course, if Shigaraki ever became trapped, he could just decay the door. If what he's saying is true, he will move you to a more secure place in the morning. You broke the key in the lock, so you can't go back. This is your last chance.

You press your furry ear to the door. Someone is in the living room. The second you knock, Shigaraki is bound to wake up. You listen. There is a chain dragging on the floor. It's your only hope. You knock loud and hard. The pattern you heard earlier. Please, you beg. You look over and see that Shigaraki eyes shoot open.

He looks confused for a moment, feeling for you and looking around. When his eyes land on you, his eyes narrow, and he sighs, shaking his head in disappointment. You are pounding on the door. Shigaraki is getting his pants on. Taking his sweet time. You are beating and shouting now. He reaches out to touch the cell door.

The door flies open, and Akari grabs you pulling you up. Shigaraki screams no. But it's too late.

"Mister is getting his arm on, he's coming, run, stick to the trees, but be careful. They are trapped too," Akari says, pointing to the front door. Slamming the basement door shut.

She hid as Mr. Compress ran through a hole he made in their bedroom. A cracking sound of the door behind you makes you panic so much you let your quirk run wild. You burst through the front door. A moment ago, all you felt was terror. Now you feel terrific. Powerful on all fours, a beast meant to be free.

"Shit! She's getting away and heading right for the traps," Mr. Compress shouts.

"Don't worry. I'll stop her. You show her, then grab her," Shigaraki says calmly.

Like a smug asshole, there is no way anyone can stop you. Then you hear the jingle of the bell. You fall to your furry knees hard. You are baffled. What happened to you? Why are you on your knees pissing yourself? You reach between your legs. Your pants are soaked but not with piss. You are dripping wet.

"What's a matter, kitty? Haven't you heard of Pavlov's dog? I didn't have conventional teaching, but I did have Mon. If you don't remember, I trained him myself. Everytime you hear this bell you get aroused. I'm not going to let you leave without my final gift. Show her Compress," Shigaraki instructs.

"My arm! I already told you everything. What the hell is that? A tiger? When did the filth at the league of villains steal a nasty cat from the zoo? Or is this an Abnormality?" A man is screaming and shouting.

That voice! That voice catches your attention. It incenses all of you to pay attention. The man is wearing creature rejection clan robes. The man reeked of disgust towards you. You want him dead. Compress takes off the CRC mask. The fear and rage mixed in you like a blender. He looks at you with disgust before he looks at you with interest.

His mouth dropped open in horror. His eyes widen in fear as he tries to scramble from you. You hate him. You hate him so much you can't see or think of anything else. You don't remember moving. The man is shouting your name, begging you to stop. Ripping, rending, using your claws and teeth. Tasting flesh and blood for the first time is incredible. Euphoria. The wet crack of bone is a symphony. The hot, wriggling muscle was tough but delicious.

"Alright, grab her," Shigaraki says somewhere far off.

When you wake up again, you feel drained. Water trickling down your body. Swirls of blood and soap swirl around you before disappearing down the drain. No fur. Just human flesh delicately being scrubbed by Shigaraki. He cradles you to him as you both sit on the shower floor.

"My kitty is awake. Good. I got most of the blood off your arms and legs," he says. His tone is dripping like honey.

"Was that my dad? Did I kill and eat my dad?" you asked, dazed. You feel him tense then ease.

"Yes. But to be fair, you only ate parts of him. His still beating heart was….cathartic," he grins. A few beats later, his voice becomes stern, "I gave you so many gifts, yet you were a bad kitty and tried to run away. It's ok because it's not happening again," he states flatly. It's your turn to stiffen.

"Because you have video of me eating my dad. I won't try to run again, I promise," you look up at him. He looks dubious.

"Yes. I have a video. Your hero career is over," he says. He dries you and shows you around your new prison. You will live with Akari because she needs company to stay sane, "But we will have plenty of privacy."

You are pleased by this. A light smile is tugging at the corner of your mouth. You still get to keep your friend. Shigaraki holds out a silver platter with a pair of hands on it to you. You recognize them immediately. He created souvenirs for you.

"I care. Eating your father wasn't the only video I have. I had Spinner and Toga play bad cop and worse cop with him. The confessions he made were surprising. You could have told me he took your newborn baby sister. He gave her to some people who raised her. Guess that was his only redeeming quality. He still left because she had a heteromorphic quirk of a black cat. Anyways, we got a name from him. Would you like us to go find her?" He asks.

"No. I think she should stay far away from us. Lead a decent life," you say. He stares at you before he shrugs.

"We have it if you ever change your mind," he rasps. You squirm at what you are about to confess. 

"Father didn't feel so bad. But let's not make it a regular thing, please," you ask. He loves how you are asking him. How you are giving into him and admitting your desires. Letting go of the past pain and moving with him to the next level. 

"I'm not going to run away because you have video. I'm not to going to leave because you were right. My quirk craves more. Give me victims, and I will be your sweet kitty. I'll wear my collar on my knees, ready to let you use any hole you want if you can give me that feeling again," you say, beaming at him. He can see it in your eyes. You are brat-tamed. He grins like a maniac. He has finally won. 

"How did you feel?" he asked, laughing. Stroking over your ears that pop up at the memory of what you did.

"I felt free," you purr.

[Writers note: I was legit yelled at for hours about the furry thing. Which I loved. I learned there is a furry scale, and I am disturbed on fall on that scale, but the more you know right? Thank you for reading!]

[nottheweirdest]

🎁😻😳 (Hope you feel better soon!)

Here I am! Forever late on this haha Thank you so much Via for the prompt and for the well wishes! So far I've been doing fine, thank you and I hope you are too!! <3 Let's see what my random brain can think up for ya and I apologize in advance because I was very sleepy when I wrote this lol....

Shadow knocked impatiently on Sonic's door, louder than he had the first time and growled under his breath. "What's the point in racing if you've already proven yourself to be this slow?" he shouted with a disgusted shake of his head.

"Sorry!" came a muffled shout from somewhere deep inside the house, followed by a blundering clang of scattering pots and pans and sharp yelp of pain.

The next thing Shadow knew, he was pushing through the door, eyes immediately seeking blue through a disaster of a house. "Are you okay?" he called, voice far more worried than he’d like to admit.

"Stay back! I don't know where it went!"

Shadow shut the door behind him and stepped forward cautiously, moving between fallen kitchen chairs and shredded upholstery, eyes still combing the space for the hidden blue hedgehog. "What are you talking about? Where what went?"

"The cat!"

"A cat? Whose cat?"

"Well, uh," Sonic started, finally poking his head up from behind his living room couch. A trio of fine red lines ran across one cheek, and the edge of one blue ear still oozed blood. "Mine, I guess."

"Yours? And it did… this?”

Sonic gulped, green eyes wide as he nodded. “Yeah. She’s a little.. feisty.…”

“Is feisty another word for rabid?”

Sonic chuckled despite his fear for his life. "Tails got her for me, but she hates me. It's like she can't even stand to be in the same room as me."

Shadow huffed dryly. "I can't imagine why."

"I know!” Sonic griped without missing a beat. “Usually animals love me! I don't know why this one doesn't--Oh. Oh no.... Oh I see her. She's headed this way, Shads. Hurry! Get behind something!"

Shadow turned to see a sleek calico making her way to him, her tail extended straight into the air, the tip twitching self assuredly, announcing to the world that she was at ease in her domain.

Sonic ducked until only emerald eyes peered from the edge of the couch but Shadow made no such move. Instead, crimson eyes watched the cat calmly until she stopped and sat a few feet from him, her amber eyes watching him with the intensity of a predator watching prey.

But Shadow was no prey.

Time passed slowly, neither creature making a move.

“Shadow,” came Sonic’s whisper.

Shadow didn’t respond.

“Shadow,” Sonic hissed, more insistent this time. “Shadow. Shadow. Shadow. Shad–”

“What??”

”I have to pee.”

Shadow let out a long exasperated exhale, ready to turn and berate his counterpart when the feline made her move. It happened quickly. Even for him. Sonic only had time to duck back down again, regardless of his complaining bladder, and Shadow was frozen, at first in shock, and then confusion. And then….

The dark hedgehog looked down at the cat that wound affectionately between his legs, only pausing to occasionally head butt and scent mark the edges of his hover skates. Tentatively he leaned over and lightly caressed her head. She rose up to his touch, letting out a rumbling purr in response.

Sonic popped up over the couch, one eye twitching slightly at the sight of the now completely domestic demon cat "What the....? How? Why??"

Shadow didn’t bother looking up. “You know what they say, the enemy of my enemy–”

Sonic collapsed back onto the couch. “I hate you.”

Shadow smiled. He could hear the opposite in Sonic’s words. And the feeling was mutual. “I hate you, too, hedgehog.”

[cherry-gemz]

Only You: Ransom Drysdale x You

Summary: You and Ransom are an unlikely pair: different social classes, different personalities. But you find yourself together, but after an eventful evening, will it last?

Pairings: Ransom Drysdale x F!Reader

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: 18+, mention of smut, slight dom!/sub!, tw violence, anger, roleplaying

A/N: My entry for @the-ce-horniest-book-club drabbles. This is meant to be silly roleplay. Just what the reader and Ransom do to spicy things up. I do not condone violence or any aggressive behavior. Everyone has consent. Under 18 DNI, pls.

Prompt: "I can't believe you're ending it over something so ridiculous!"

"I can't believe you're ending it over something so ridiculous!"

"It's not ridiculous. I saw it with my own eyes."

"You're crazy!"

"You better believe it, doll, but I'm not stupid. I know when two people have slept together."

"Ran, you need to get your eyes checked!" You spat and threw your drink at his face. The rest of the restaurant viewed the lover's spat and couldn't look away.

He wiped the drink from his face and shook the excess off from his hand. A devilish smirk appeared and then his face remained still.

Maybe I went too far, you thought. He's going to kill me.

***

Ransom Drysdale. His name was well known in the tri-state area: prolific playboy, a different woman on his arm every week. The only child of Richard Drysdale and Linda Thrombey, and grandson of Harlan Thrombey, a successful writer and mystery novelist extraordinaire. His arrogance and charisma originally turned you off though.

As the New England Club tennis instructor, you found yourself loathing the bratty socialite at first. His extreme good looks and physique were of course delicious to look at, but when he started up lessons with you, you nearly quit. He was a cocky son-of-a-bitch. Never much for small talk on the court.

The Thrombey's in general were self pretentious jerks; leeching off the renowned writer that started his publishing company from the ground up. Not quite old money, but definitely not new. No, the Thromby's were definitely fat cats when talking of wealth and status, but underneath all the designer clothing and flashy cars were hypocritical jerks and wankers. They weren't the self made millionaires as they proclaimed. No, Daddy Thrombey had every part in their success. Without his help, they'd be a fisherman's family.

But Ransom, oh Ransom. You were abhorrently disgusted at how he talked to the staff at the club. Shouting at the waiters when they got his whiskey or scotch order incorrect. Tossing plates at the hostess when his steak wasn't prepared to his likening. Even the pro shop boys were afraid of him that one time he went all Mcintyre on his newly strung racket.

But with you he was different. No, with you he was charming, polite...sweet even. Which made you weary even more of his intentions. He hadn't half bad at the game either, you thoroughly enjoyed playing a match with him. He took a lot of his aggression and stress out on the court and it was fun being competitive.

Eventually he asked you out for a drink, after two times of declining you accepted...mainly because you were curious of how a lazy, spoiled, man-child that was pushing early thirties, could still be so damn attractive.

So that date became two...those two dates became a month. And before you knew it, you were together six months and shocked that he was still entertained. The girls at the front desk were always flirting with him, but ever since you two were dating, he only had eyes for you.

And you for him. Until one night at a local restaurant, where while you waited for him to arrive, you sat at the bar nursing your dry martini. The man that Ransom accused you of sleeping with was attractive. A bit older than what you'd dated in the past, but attractive nonetheless.

"Here alone?" His voice was like butter as he pulled the stool next to you. You crossed your legs and flashed a thigh, your elongated stems were velvety and smooth from a wax appointment earlier that morning. You bit into the green olive and pulled it slowly off the wooden pick, your lips pursed and enticing, stained with a bordeaux wine color.

"Not exactly," you purred as you looked him up and down. His trim physique and armani suit was to be impressed by.

"Well, if you were my date I would never leave your side," he replied as he motioned to the bartender.

You leaned over the bar, pushing your chest up, giving ample viewing.

"Is that right?"

"Indeed. Why, I would kiss the ground you walk on, you're Aphrodite in the flesh."

You smile and giggle at the attention you receive. Unaware that Ransom had arrived and was watching the two of you from afar. The man slinked his hand on your thigh and you startle.

"I have a hotel room not too far from here, what do you say?"

You chest began to burn at the touch of his rough hands. Hands you were not used to. Why, the ones that would caress you down were soft, strong, and lean. Ones that never worked a day in their life.

You grab his hand and twist his wrist and unrelent. Gritting a smile through your teeth, you whisper in the intruder's ear.

"I say, if you lay another finger on me, you'll be peeing through a catheter for a week."

The man whimpered as you released your grip. Ransom barged between you two and decked him square in the jaw.

"You asshole!" He shouted as some patrons screamed. "Don't touch her."

Your intruder fell flat to the ground and everyone stared.

"C'mon, Y/N," Ransom's voice bellowed.

"I'm not done with my drink," you jest.

"I'll buy you a million more elsewhere, let's go."

The man got up slowly and rubbed his jaw, he started to yell obscenities, but security arrived and whisks him away.

"Did you know that guy?" He demanded. His east coast accent always came out thicker when he raised his voice.

You cooly take a sip of your drink, "What? Of course not."

"Yous looked like you did."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means, I'm not here for like five seconds and you already have a guy drooling over you. You let him touch you, Y/N!"

"I didn't let him do anything," you pull your compact out of your clutch and fix the crease of your eyelid makeup and brush it with your finger. You snap your compact shut and you can feel Ransom's temper build. His blood boiling, the nerve of that man. Touching you. Thinking that he could satisfy you. It got you hot that Ransom was jealous.

"Well what did you say to him? I saw you whisper in his ear!"

"I just warned him to not touch me again. I can handle myself Ran."

"You've been sleeping with him."

"That's rich, Ransom."

"Tell me I'm wrong."

You look at him dead straight in the eye, "You're wrong." His chest puffed, his cheeks red. He was showing a different side of him.

"Ransom doesn't like to share," you smirk and he slips his hand behind the small of your back.

"I won't ask again, Y/N. Let's go."

You sit up from the stool, "That was you asking?"

"You know what, Y/N…"

"What?"

"We're over."

Your heart drops to your stomach and you want to puke. We're over? Why? Because of some dumb misunderstanding? Is he serious?

"I can't believe you're ending it over something so ridiculous!"

"It's not ridiculous. I saw it with my own eyes."

"You're crazy!"

"You better believe it, doll, but I'm not stupid. I know when two people have slept together."

"Ran, you need to get your eyes checked!" You spat and threw your drink at his face. The rest of the restaurant viewed the lover's spat and couldn't look away.

He wiped the drink from his face and shook the excess off from his hand. You storm out of the restaurant with him quickly behind you. Your heels pound on the cement as you turn the corner around the dark building. The sound of the harbor waves and the rocking of the boats can be heard from a distance.

"Y/N."

You continue to stride along the brick wall, the moon shone above the inked sky.

"Y/N!" He repeated as he grasped you by the hips. You peered into his blue eyes and searched for answers. He stared intently into yours and didn't say anything. Within seconds, he smashed his lips onto yours, smearing the once perfectly colored lips. His hands cupped your face with a strong hold and you grabbed his dress shirt collar and pressed your body into his.

His hands roam up and down your silhouette, then they find themselves on your globes and he clutches your ass.

He grunts through the kiss as you sigh seductively. He peppers his kisses down your cheek to your neck and sucks on your chest, leaving a mark.

"Ran…" you say breathlessly as his left hand trails up your thigh.

"You are mine…" he coos as you nod.

"Yes, baby…"

"He had no right to touch you."

"No, it was bad. You taught him a lesson."

"You've been bad, it's your turn for a lesson," he whispers in your ear as he inserts his tongue and runs it along your lobe. Chills rub up and down your body and you build a pool between your legs.

"So bad…" you tease.

"Y/N…" he says as you grasp his excitement through his trousers.

"Did you mean it?"

"Mean what baby?" He asks as he slips a digit beneath your panties.

"That we're over," you squeak as you close your eyes and he continues to pleasure you.

"Yes…" he ramps up his ministrations and you grab his wrist, unhappy with his answer. He smiles devilishly.

"Ransom!"

He stops, but doesn't leave his hand from your folds. He looks earnestly in your eyes, even though the unlit side of the restaurant, you can tell he's exposed and being real.

"In ways that I'm done hiding, baby. No more. I want you to be my girl, I want to tell everyone."

This is the Ransom that you know, not the man who hated his family and has never had a nice thing said about him. No, he's a complicated one, but he's yours.

"W-what?" You choke. You had been on the down low all these months considering you were his tennis instructor. You'd be fired for breaching the conflict of interest with a client, and you weren rich like him. The strutiny you'd receive from his family, from the town. All eyes would be on you. He cups your cheek with his free hand.

"Move in with me, baby. I'm crazy about you. I don't want anyone else. You're it, doll."

"Ran…"

"What do you say?" He asks as he starts to pleasure you once again and stifle a giggle.

"You are nuts," you reply as you see stars.

"Fine. But next time I choose the roleplaying, tonight got out of hand," you say and shove him playfully.

"Sure thing, baby. Whatever you say."

[multiplefandomsblog]

Gundham, Kazuichi, and Mikan with an Ultimate veterinarian S/O

warnings; light cussing, unedited, inaccurate depictons of what vets do, gender neutral pronouns for reader, gn!reader

Request; Hi there! Can I request gundham, kazuichi, and mikan with an Ultimate veterinarian S/O? Maybe they have wild animals by their side all the time :) thanks!

Gundham

◊ Gundham would trust you 100%

◊ He relies on you a bunch.

◊ Knowing that you are a veterinarian who loves animals, is all he needed to know to trust his life and the dark devas life with you.

◊ Gundham is pretty protective and careful with his devas, so if anytime the devas showed signs of a small sickness, he’d immediately go to you.

◊ He’d be so concerned for his devas so he would always go to you to see what’s wrong.

◊ Most of the time, the devas are fine and Gundham was just being a worried dad.

◊ But you’d be lying if you said you didn’t get a biiiiiiit happy every time he rushed into your clinic with a worried expression on his face.

◊ You assure him that his devas look fine, but he still insists you check them thoroughly.

◊ As usual, they are fine and he looks relieved.

◊ Though actually, one time he had faked his worry for the devas so he could have an excuse to see you.

◊ He was planning to ask you out while you examined his loyal companions.

◊ “So erm, how are my dark devas doing? Perfectly, I assume.” He spoke in his low tone of voice. “Well, Maga-G, Sun-D and Jum-P are doing fine. Except for Cham-P, he may be a tad dehydrated. If you monitor him carefully and make sure he drinks water, he’ll be good.” Gundham nodded with a nervous but confident grin, words not quite hitting his ears yet, “Indeed, so would you like to- Wait WHAT-?” Gundham paled, registering your words a bit too slow and freaking out.

◊ “Cham-P iS DYING?? WHAT WILL I- Oh goD-” Gundham hyperventilates, grabbing your hands unconsciously and squeezing them so tight it slightly hurt. 

◊ “Please, S/o, save his life!!”

◊ You looked at him with surprise, face heating up at the sudden touch.

◊ ”G-gundham, Cham-P isn’t dying, he just needs to drink more water.” You cut off.

◊ Gundham suddenly froze, face heating up from the realization of his hands in yours.

◊ “O-oh, I see my mistake.” You laughed at his reaction, relishing in the feeling of his hands still resting in yours.

◊ “So what did you want to ask me earlier?” Gundham’s eyes widened, “Oh uh- I was just wondering if... Yo-you’d help me nurse Cham-P back to health?” He chickened out at the last minute, mentally scolding himself for losing his confidence.

◊ Though you knew that wasn’t what he meant to say since you had told him about Cham-P after he had tried to ask you something, you still accepted happily.

◊ Your animals and his dark devas had a few debates as you and Gundham helped Cham-P drink from the water nozzle thingy.

◊ “Water is not wet.” Maga-G scoffed, examining his nails. “Okay but, water makes things wet, so how is it not wet?” Your bird argued, looking at Maga-G with disbelief. “I have to pee.” Jum-P blurted out, hopping back inside the cage to do his business. “Can I come!?” San-D followed suit, hopping into the cage as well.

◊ “What do you think they’re talking about?” You questioned, looking at the animals argue.

◊ “Obviously, they are discussing their plan to destroy the world. My dark devas have the intelligence of a god!” Gundham boasted, staring at the dark devas with pride.

◊ “-No, you’re wrong, I’m right, shut up.” Maga-G ended the argument unfairly, stomping his foot down(if you get the reference, ily).

Kazuichi

◊ Kazuichi would be scared when he first saw you walk by with your army of animals following you.

◊ “I-is that a tiger!?”

◊ He’d be kind of intimidated by you at first, not wanting to get on your bad side and have your animals maul him.

◊ Other than your army of animals catching his eye, he thought you were pretty cute.

◊ Though he was itching to ask you out, he was too scared to go within 5 meters distance near you.

◊ He’d kind of just, scream cheesy pick-up lines to you.

◊ “HEY S/O! ARE Y-” “What!?” “ARE YOU-” “Can you come closer!? I can’t hear you!” “HAHAHA, N-NEVERMIND IT’S NOTHING!”

◊ Eventually, Kazuichi warmed up to your animals(it’s kind of the opposite really-).

◊ Funny story how actually, Kazuichi was working on the underbelly of his machines, and he needed his wrench. Assuming Fuyuhiko was still there—Which he wasn’t—, he asked for a wrench.

◊ (un)Luckily for him, one of your dogs had been there, and it had picked up the wrench and brought it to Kazuichi’s outstretched hand. 

◊ “Thanks, Fuyu.” He accepted the wrench, expecting a grunt of ‘You’re welcome.’

◊ He, however, did not expect a very loud, “BORK!” in return.

◊ He screeched, wincing as he jolted up and hit his forehead on the hard metal underneath his machine.

◊ Not long after the bark echoed through the area, you had come running, your forehead creased from worry.

◊ “Oh, there you are!” You huffed out in relief as your eyes caught sight of the familiar coloured fur.

◊ You looked down at Kazuichi’s bottom half sticking out underneath from a machine, hearing a groan coming from him.

◊ “Kazuichi?” You squealed when you heard a- “S-s/o!?” come from underneath the machine, A “BANG!” following after.

◊ “Ow- U-uh hey S/o..!” He greeted waving his hand awkwardly from underneath the metal. 

◊ “Uh, A-are you going to come out?” You asked, concerned for—what sounded like—his head injury.

◊ “U-um nope. It’s uh, it’s cozy underneath here.” He refused politely, not wanting you to see his red face. 

◊ Literally red(or pink??) face; Blood had been running down his fucking forehead from the two hard bonks against the metal.

◊ The dog could smell the bullshit(and the blood) emitting from Kazuichi’s words, and bit gently onto his sneaker, urging out a scream from the pinkette.

◊ It pulled him out from underneath the machine, revealing his bloody forehead.

◊ You gasped in shock as you hurried him up to his feet, hastily bringing him to your clinic.

◊ He blushed at your close proximity, letting you drag him to a waiting seat.

◊ He watched warily as your animals ran into the backroom of your clinic, bringing you medical supplies as you carefully examined his forehead. 

◊ The animals watched you two as you disinfected his forehead, making Kazuichi nervous from the many tiny animal eyes glaring into him.

◊ He tensed as he felt a ferret climb his shoulder, clenching his eyes shut. 

◊ The ferret kissed him on his forehead, leaving you and him speechless.

◊ Well shit, the ferret had more confidence than you.

Mikan

◊ Mikan thought your ultimate was pretty cool!

◊ Since you were both in the medical field, you two had many things to talk about, therefore getting along unsurprisingly well.

◊ At first, she was a bit scared of your big animals, your small ones not so much.

◊ All your animals seemed to really really like her, and they’d be pretty protective of her.

◊ If Teruteru had said something perverted to her, one of your bears would maul him. 

◊ Everyone cheered as the bear kept on swinging TeruTeru’s arm in its jaw.

◊ That one time Hajime made Mikan cry, one of your lizards had slipped off Mikan and bit his finger.

◊ “Not cool, Hajim-“ Nagito started, before glancing down on his bloody finger, “Oh shit, are you okay??” 

◊ There’s always at least one of your animals stuck onto her just in case she gets picked on by Hiyoko or TeruTeru.

◊ They always have her back!

◊ If Hiyoko insulted Mikan for no good reason, the monkeys would pull her pigtails whilst the cats quickly ran to her dorm to shit inside it.

◊ Hiyoko stopped messing around with Mikan after that.

◊ Those times she trips and falls in very inconvenient positions, the animals cover her or scare everyone else away until you or someone trusted comes and helps.

◊ As the animals always have her back, she always has theirs.

◊ If someone tried to attack one of your animals, she’ll cover the animals and take the hit for them.

◊ Though before anyone could get hurt, your tiger had already pounced on the assaulter, tearing off their pants and watching as they ran away from the humiliation.

◊ If you’re busy healing one of the animals and can’t take care of the rest at the moment, Mikan will be your number #2 and she’ll help in any way she can!

◊ She remembers each animal’s feeding time to heart, never forgetting to feed them or give them water.

◊ She cherishes the animals almost as much as she cherishes you.

◊ She adores how kind you are to the animals and her, falling in love with your sweet personality.

◊ Mikan kind of becomes your wife and the animals being your shared children together.

◊ It’s really cute when you see the animals cuddle up to her while she pets them, it just makes you want to get on one knee.

◊ You are indefinitely thankful for her care, you’re sure you love her.

◊ Sooner or later, you two finally get together.

◊ All thanks to your animals actually, they did that classic nudge where you two kissed on accident.

◊ After you two get into a relationship, expect lots of cuddles.

◊ Correction, expect lots of cuddles with the animals.

◊ They regularly interrupt your quiet time with her by climbing in between and around the two of you, creating a safe and warm barrier. 

◊ As you’re always caring for your many animals, you sometimes forget to take care of yourself, so she’d also make sure you were okay too.

◊ Since she was the ultimate nurse, she knew humans better and so she knew when you weren’t taking care of yourself.

◊ She would get concerned for you as you overworked yourself, therefore reminding you to take care of yourself-

◊ Before immediately apologizing for her worries, afraid you thought she was clingy. 

◊ After assuring her you could never think that she was clingy, you promised her you’d take care of yourself, kissing her worried tears away.

◊ You’d do anything for Mikan, and she would do the same.

note; sorry if it’s a bit rushed!! i hope you enjoy anyways though, tysm for reading!

[holylulusworld]

Man's Best Friend with Benefits

Summary: A killing spree brings the Winchesters back to St. Louis, Missouri.

Pairing: Dean x Witch!Reader; Familiar!Eric x Witch!Reader

Characters: Sam Winchester, Familiar Portia, Spencer

Warnings: angst, language, characters death, mentions of murder/sacrifices/witch stuff in general, jealousy, tension, smut, unprotected sex, light dom!reader, light sub!dean, woman on top , a hint of cockwarming

Kinktober special: Dom/Sub

A/N: Yes, Eric is Eric Northman from True Blood. I couldn’t imagine a better vampire to turn into a familiar. I just liked his black leather style, and it matched the readers style.

Divider by @writeyourmindaway

Kinktober 2020

“Why again do we have to help Portia?” you had better plans than to sneak around a cheap motel in the middle of the night. “What does she want at a place like this? Shouldn’t she with her witch?”

Your familiar purrs, rubbing his head against your calf. “Hey, only as you and that dog had a thing going on years ago doesn’t mean you can drag me out here in the middle of nowhere to stalk her.

Your familiars’ neck hair gets erected when he senses danger to Portia. His reaction is to transform into a human form to burst through the door.

You follow him silently, shaking your head at his bad manners.

“Great idea, Eric. Just storm into a room only to meet the barrel of a gun,” you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Tell me again why I let you stick around,” you round your familiar, ogling his ass before you slap it harshly. “Yeah, you’re eye candy.”

Playfully you slide your hand over the gun aimed at Eric’s head, tutting the hunter who looks at you confused and bewildered. “Hey there, pretty boy. My friend and I were looking for a friend of a friend and I think you found her.”

“The dog?” The shorter hunter lifts a brow, still not lowering his gun. “Why would you look for her? Is this a conspiration?”

“Let her go,” Eric snarls, stepping closer. He ignores the gun, rather bumps his chest against the hunters. “I know you wanted to hurt her.”

“Eric,” Portia’s soft voice calms the angry familiar but, he won’t budge. “You must protect Y/N, not me.”

“Protect who?” The hunter asks, glancing at you. He’s giving you a once over, a dirty grin on his lips. “I’d like to protect you too, sweetheart.”

You snicker, patting his shoulder before you turn your attention toward Portia again. “Don’t hurt yourself, pretty boy. I’m here to help a friend, not to find a new bodyguard.”

“That’s what the guy is? Your bodyguard?” You don’t reveal your true nature or that Eric is so much more than a bodyguard. “Alright. Who are you and what do you want?”

“I’m Y/N, that’s Eric, my bodyguard,” you slide your hand over the hunter’s shoulder, keeping an eye on the taller man who seems to be calmer. “Portia is the friend of a friend. He’s missing her and called me.”

“Don’t even think about it, hunter,” you hiss at Eric’s words, giving him a warning glare. “He stared at your ass.”

“Many men stare at my ass, Eric. Stop causing trouble. We are all friends here, right,” you smile at the hunter who’s more interested to drink your outfit in than to shoot your familiar.

“I like her outfit, is all,” he’s cocky, you give him that. “Never saw a girl combine leather pants with a skirt and combat boots. I like it.”

“Dean, don’t,” the other hunter groans but Dean looks at you like a needy puppy, and you chuckle, patting his cheek. A low whine leaves his lips, and you know, he’s not a threat to you or your familiar.

“It’s fine.” You press your lips to Dean’s ear, licking it to force another whine out of his throat. “I’ll tell you a secret, Dean.”

“You will?” Dean’s voice is hoarse when you place one hand onto his chest, slowly drawing circles with your index finger. “Really?”

“I’m wearing leather jeggings, not pants.” Patting his cheek, you turn your attention toward Portia. “Now come with us and stop bugging hunters with our problems. If you need help, ask your kind.”

“Your kind?” Dean pants, eyes glued to your face when you wave your finger at Eric who slowly stalks toward you. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Show him, Eric.” You click your tongue and Eric turns back into a black cat. He’s glaring up at Dean who sneezes immediately. “You see, Portia is worried about her friend James.”

“We already heard about it, sweetheart. He turned into a full-time witch cop or something,” Dean grumbles, sneezing once again. “Can he turn back? I’m allergic.”

“Aw, poor hunter,” you coo, running your fingers along Dean’s neck. “Just relax. Look into my eyes and stop sneezing.”

“What the…?” Eric snarls. “It’s gone…aw-crap. No…no fucking no,” Dean jumps backward, aiming his gun toward your head this time.

“Now, that’s not nice, pretty boy,” you purr, giving Dean a soft smile. “Guess the cats out, Eric.” Your familiar groans, turning back into human form. “Yes, Dean. I’m a witch, just like your friend James. Unlike the blood-thirsty black magic slaves, I prefer to use my powers to…well…”

“Kill people?” Dean asks, hating he started to like you. “I get that, witch.” He’s unlocking his gun, ready to end your life. “Pity. I liked your outfit. Shame to ruin it.”

“Gosh, why are all hunters into killing me?” you dip your head, lips formed into a pout. “I’m not killing people. You can call me karma witch.”

“Karma witch?” You picked Sam’s interest. “What does that mean?”

“I’m a punisher if you want to call it like that,” you waltz toward Dean moving your hand to his gun to lower it. “When a witch breaks a rule like using magic in public or killing one of our kind, I’m there to punish the bad boy…or girl.” Dean shivers when you slide your nose along his neck.

“You’re like a witch cop or something?” You laugh at Dean’s choice of words. “I mean, witches kill people all the time.”

“Not in my town, cowboy. We have rules here. Not all witches live in the past. Nowadays we prefer not to sacrifice virgins or eat hearts.” Shuddering Dean looks at you when you start to laugh. “You should see your face, Dean. God, he believed I ate hearts, Eric.”

“I did, once or twice,” Eric grumbles, looking at Portia who tries to turn everyone’s attention back toward the problem she came for. “But I was a vampire back then.”

“Son of a bitch,” Dean curses, eyeing your familiar warily. “What is that thing? A familiar, a man, a cat, or a vampire?”

“Let me explain before we come back to Portia’s problem,” Sam nods, mesmerized by your presence.

“Go ahead before I kill Mr. black leather cat over there,” Eric hisses, close to showing Dean his teeth and claws. “Come on kitty, give it to me good.”

“Don’t tempt me, hunter. I’ll rip you apart with my teeth,” Dean grins at Eric who dares not to move closer to the hunter when you snap your fingers.

“Enough, Eric. Where are your manners? Stop the peeing contest and concentrate on the task at hand. Portia needs our help, we will help. Now let me tell the hunter your story and we can all go to James and find out if he did what everyone believes.”

“Do you purr when she crawls your ears, kitty boy?” Dean mocks again.

“Well, at least she crawls my ears,” Eric smirks, licking his lips lazily. “She’s the best at crawling my ears, hunter boy.”

“Alright,” you snap your fingers to turn Eric back into a cat. “Time out for you, Eric.”

“I’m sorry for my brother,” Sam shrugs. “He can be like a toddler when he’s jealous.”

“I’m not,” Dean grits out. “Kitty boy started the war.”

“Back to the story,” you pick Eric up, gently rubbing his back. “Eric used to be human, but he got turned into a vampire centuries ago. He lived like that, always hiding in the dark until he met a girl, she was special, but it ended in his death. I found his lost soul in the ether. A place where go if the big guy up the hasn’t decided where you end up. Eric did shitty things during his time as a vampire, but he sacrificed his life to save people.”

“I still don’t like him,” Dean looks at Eric in your arms and he swears, that cat just grinned at him when you crawled its ears. “Look at his face.”

“Anyways, I was looking for someone else. I needed answers but the soul was hiding from me that night. I found Eric, he was lost and just wanted to know where he’ll end up. Heaven, hell, the big empty.”

“I get it. The anticipation of death is worse than death itself,” you nod, smiling as Dean understand Eric’s feelings.

“I used a binding spell to bring his soul back and carried him in my chest until I found his body. I couldn’t let him stay a vampire, so I used a powerful spell and turned him into a familiar.”

Dean smirks, looking at Eric who stretches his body. “…and now he’s your kitty boy.”

“Dude, can you just not,” Sam sighs, shaking his head at Dean’s antics. “We should try to help James, Dean.”

“He’s a witch, Sammy. No one forced him to dive into that shit. James did it on free terms. If he’s in trouble, it’s his fault.”

“Why can’t you see not all witches are evil?”

“You see, here’s the thing…witches…” Dean clears his throat, “…not real fans, sweetheart. No offense. I’m sure you and Mr. kitty boy are nice but…”

“Moments ago you wanted to go for a wild ride with me, Dean,” you purse your red lips, mischief in your eyes. “Pity you are afraid of strong women. Such a shame,” you slide your hand over his chest up to his shoulder to grip him tightly. “I could’ve shown you there is a good boy inside of this cocky hunter.”

“Good boy,” Dean sweats. His Adam’s apple bobbles and you can see the curiosity in his eyes. “I…I just…”

“Back to James, Portia. Tell me everything on our way to my apartment. I don’t think you’ll find help among hunters,” you hold out your hand, smiling when Portia trustingly places her hand into yours. “Let’s get out of here…”

“Why are they here?” Eric hisses. His eyes narrow and you can feel the tension getting thicker anytime Dean grins at your familiar. “We could’ve solved the case without their help.”

“They know James better than I do, Eric. Let’s listen to Portia and decide later.” Portia nods, clearing her throat before she finally gets the chance to tell you about James and his nightmares.

“Well, something’s been happening to James. It started with headaches, screaming sounds in his ears, nightmares. He’s unable to sleep, think or work. I had hoped you can find a way to help him.” Portia continues, tells you he saw the murders before they happened. Your eyes meet Dean’s, and you know he believes James is guilty of murder.

“Sounds like someone tries to use his powers against him. I had a case like five years ago. A young and powerful witch suddenly dreamed she’s hurting her husband. One night, it happened for real. Everyone believed it was her slicing his throat open, I didn’t,” you explain, opening your spellbook. “There is a spell to plant memories into the person’s memory.”

“Wait…you mean, well shit,” Dean falls onto your favorite armchair, glancing around the room as you recite the spell and how it’s done. “So, someone is influencing James to make him look like a killer.”

“Exactly, Dean. You’re such a smart boy,” Dean swallows thickly. His pants feel too tight out of the blue and he needs to cover his ‘little problem’ with his hands. “But not anyone can use the spell. It must be someone powerful.”

“Your choice was bad, Spencer,” you slide your witch killing blade out. “Eric, bring James and Portia out. This is my game.”

“Little witch believes she can kill me,” Spencer cackles, throwing his head back. “I will kill you, Y/N. No one is more…” You use your powers to slam Spencer into the wall. Suprised he gasps when you hold him there. “Impossible.”

“No, sweetheart. This is my fate, you know. With every punishment, my strength grows. I’m a woman on a mission. We used to be powerful, graceful even. Now, look around this town. Rotten to the core,” you sigh. “I will end you fast. That’s more than you deserve.”

“Y/N,” Dean gasps when you ram the blade into Spencer’s chest, ending his life painless.

“He deserved to suffer, but that’s not my style, you know,” Dean nods when you step away from Spencer, chanting a spell. “His soul, I’ll send it to the empty. The place where angels end and powerful creatures like me…”

“Why are you here Dean?” you smirk, watching Dean walk into your apartment. He’s unsure, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. “Does my good boy want to stay a little longer?”

His green eyes sparkle when you close the door, leaning against the wood to give him a once over.

“I…what you said…I…fuck…I mean. It was incredibly hot when you ordered me around,” you nod, stepping closer to Dean. He’s eying you warily when you slide your leather jacket down your shoulders, throwing it onto the couch.

“I want you in your underwear in 60 seconds. I’ll get something and if you are not in your boxers on my bed, I’ll get angry,” you purr, sliding your hand over Dean’s chest. “60 seconds, pretty boy…”

Dean pants, looking at his watch when you walk into the bedroom, wearing nothing but your panties and a bra. His cock twitches in interest when you slam the door shut.

“Don’t worry, Dean. Eric is not here tonight. I gave him a week off to do what familiars do.” You dip your knee into the mattress, eyes trained on Dean’s face when you slide your hands over his thighs.

“God,” you enjoy the groans leaving the hunter’s lips when you crawl between his legs, looking up at Dean. “I…I never gave up control before.”

“Just relax, Dean. I will not do anything you don’t want to. I want you to tell me your safe word,” Dean laughs nervously but he manages to choke ‘Impala’ out. “Impala got it. If I do not understand the word, say ‘red’ and I stop.”

“Okay…red. I get it,” Dean watches you run your hands over his chest. Anticipation taking over he moans, wanting to feel you touch him where he needs it the most.

“Look at you, already wanting it to end,” you purr. You grip his waist, leaning over the hunter to place a soft kiss above his belly button. “Just enjoy, Dean. We will only have sex tonight. No crops or the things I like to use.”

No woman ever touched Dean like you before. He’s putty in your hands when you crawl up his body to kiss along his neck, leaving little love bites.

“You smell good,” he nervously chews on his lower lip when you press a searing kiss to his collarbone. “Is that cream, perfume?”

Your lips wrap around one nipple and Dean looks at you wide-eyed. Licking around his other nipple you smirk as you can feel his erection press against your belly.

“Such a good boy. You’re so hard for me, baby.”

“Hard,” Dean pants. “All for you, Y/N.”

“All for me tonight, Dean. Now just enjoy and let me have you,” nodding eagerly Dean watches you hook your fingers into the elastic of his boxers. You drag the fabric down his body, a seductive smile on your lips when his cock springs free.

You throw his boxers over your shoulder, smiling when Dean looks down at you. On your knees you crawl back toward Dean, never breaking eye contact. “Shall I -erm, do anything?”

Shaking your head, you lean over his body, pecking his lips before you open the drawer of your nightstand to get a bottle out.

“For sensitive skin, baby,” Dean huffs when you crawl back between his legs. You unclasp the bottle, adding some lotion onto your hand.

The hunter’s eyes never leave your face when you grasp for his cock to gently run your hand up and down his length. You swipe your thumb over the tip, earning a deep growl when you dip your head to let your tongue take over.

“You taste good, but I want you…now,” Dean nods eagerly, cock already twitching in your hand. “Do you want me to fuck this nice dick?”

“Yes,” the hunter chokes out, looking at you, pleadingly, desperate. “Please…”

“Good boy,” you crawl back up his body, straddling his hips to rub your soaked pussy over his dick. “Feel this? That’s all for you, Dean.”

“Oh-god,” wetness coats his length and Dean is close to losing his cool when you raise your hips, gripping his cock with one hand to line him up with your dripping entrance.

You take him in, inch per glorious inch but it’s not enough for you. Your hands grasp for his waist when you slam down the last inches. Dean gasps, feeling your walls clench tightly around him.

“You feel so good, Y/N.”

You dig your knees into the mattress, lean forward over Dean, and rest on your elbows. His eyes search your face when you still your movement to feel his length press against your deepest point.

“Fuck,” you slowly rock back and forth. “You make me feel so full.” There is a cheeky grin on Dean’s lips when you wrap your arms around his neck to kiss him fiercely. The hunter relaxed underneath you, just taking what you are willing to give.

“My pleasure, ma’am,” Dean smirks when you let go of him to grip his shoulders, now bouncing up and down on him. “Can I rub your clit, sweetheart? I’d like to make you feel good.”

“Not tonight, baby, I want you to give in,” you grab his wrists, pin them over his head with your powers when you start to move faster on top of him.

Dean moans your name when you rock your hips faster and faster until he can only give in and fall back against the pillow.

“I…I…oh-god,” Dean whimpers when you clamp down hard onto his length, squeezing him almost painfully. “Y/N,” cum fills your belly and you whisper ‘good boy’ earning a deep growl from the hunter.

“I must say, you live up to your reputation,” you fall onto Dean’s chest, panting heavily. “Do you want a shower or cuddles?”

“Will you call me unmanly if I say cuddles?” Grinning you peck his lips, before you rest your body on top of Dean’s. “Uh-erm, I’m kinda still inside of you.”

“I have a thing for cock-warming. You’ll get used to my kinks,” you smirk at Dean when you lift your head to meet his gaze. “Oh-yeah I almost forgot to tell you that Sam invited me to the bunker and I thought this would be a great opportunity to get to know you better…”

SPN Forever Tags

@donnaintx

@screechingartisancashbailiff

@fallen-wolf22

@sister-winchesters99

@mogaruke

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————————————–

Dean/Jensen Forever Tags   

@spnfamily-j2

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@negans-lucille-tblr

@deans-baby-momma

@thefaithfulwriter

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@team-free-will-you-idjiot

@myopiamystical

@rintheemolion

@bluecornflowers

@rosalynshields

@nihilismworld

@peaches007

[crystalsmentalhealth]

Talking about the Brattleboro Retreat in Brattleboro, Vermont

I recently spent two weeks at the Retreat and wanted to share my experiences both good and bad about it. 

I arrived at the Retreat in mid-June of 2021 after a four day stay at the Emergency Department of my local hospital. Originally I had not wanted to go to the Brattleboro Retreat because it was such a big campus and I equated that with busy and loud and impersonal. The Retreat would challenge my assumptions.

Getting There

I didn’t drive myself. As I said I spent four days in the ED of my local hospital and so I arrived via ambulance. The ride was stressful and nauseating. I was already stressed and nervous and the mountainous winding roads did absolutely nothing to help. I didn’t lay in the stretcher, but sat in a back-facing seat with no arm rests and with a blood pressure cuff around my left arm. 

The trip took about an hour and except for a few questions from the person riding in the back with me, it was spent in nearly complete silence, which again, did nothing to help my nerves. There was no reassurance or even light conversation.

My Arrival

When we got there, they grabbed my bags for me, probably because I wasn’t allowed to have them yet, and with one person before me and one person behind me, lead me up the stairs to the admissions office. We were met at the door by an admissions person and I was dropped off like an Amazon package. The ambulance personnel left and I was officially at the Retreat.

I was first led to Security. They dropped off my bags with Security, and asked me to empty my pockets. I had none and told them such. Then I was led to an exam room where the woman who was with me found a gown that would fit me and held it up in front of her. I was then told to strip completely. I balked, but obeyed. First went my shirt, then my bra, then I stepped into the gown. Then with that covering me, I wiggled out of my pants and underwear. She gave me a pair of hospital pants to put on so I wasn’t completely bare. Then I was shown a chair and given a pair of huge grippy socks to wear. One size fits all, I guess.

After that the lady took my blood pressure, my pulse, and checked my oxygen levels. Then she took my temperature.  My clothes and shoes were sent to Security with the rest of my things. I had off-brand crocs as shoes so I had no idea what they needed to check for, but off they went.

After the clothing change I was led to an office. I felt so awkward standing in a grey hospital gown, blue hospital pants, no panties, and those huge grippy socks, in front of two nicely dressed office personnel. They let me have a seat and the questions and paperwork began.

What was my insurance? Did I know about the extra inpatient days allowed? Who was my primary care physician? My therapist? My psychiatrist? My case worker? Did I have an Advanced Directive? What are the addresses? Did I want a male or female provider? There were so many questions! 

Then it was sign here, and here, and here, and here, and here.

After that I was given a green folder that said Welcome to Tyler 2 which contained various information that I would need during my time there. My patient Bill of Rights, how to file a complaint or grievance. That sort of stuff. 

Then it was off to another area and now they wanted a urine sample. I had already done two at the hospital and really didn’t need to pee, but I tried. I assume it was for a drug test, but I have no real clue.

Then I was sent off to another exam room, this time for a full physical. She asked me all about my medical history, whether I was having normal bowel movements or not, all about my diabetes, my family history (cancer, cancer, cancer, cancer, heart disease, cancer, kidney failure, cancer), she even checked my reflexes. The ARNP that examined me had the neatest notebook. It was electronic and I was fascinated by it. 

(At the time of writing this I’ve only been home for two full days and I still have a very clingy cat who is currently laying on my left hand so if you catch a typo that kitty has caused me, please let me know.)

After the physical I was given one outfit to wear back, sans bra because my bra was underwire, and I was sent to a seat to wait to be sent to the unit.

The lady who watched over me offered me something to drink while I waited and when she offered milk I took her up on it. Unfortunately it was 1% milk, which I really hate, but hey, milk, so I drank it while I waited.

I didn’t have to wait long. Before long a Security guard and a nurse from the unit I would go to came down and led me down one corridor, in one elevator, through a cafeteria, up another elevator, and finally I was on the unit.

Tyler 2 

The first thing I noticed when I got on the unit was that the bedrooms were singles. Yes! I hate sharing my bedroom in hospitals. At the worst, I’d once had to share with three other people stuffed into a two person bedroom. Two poor souls had had to sleep on cots. So I was very happy to see that I would have my own room.

I was shown into an interview room for yet even more paperwork and questions. All this is the business of the psychiatric hospital and it comes at the literal worst time of your stay, the beginning. When you’re scared and your nerves are raw, and your mental health is at it’s worst.

A three question questionnaire was first. Why are you here? How can we help? What are your coping skills? Depression, anxiety, suicidal ideation. I don’t know. Reading and journaling.

Then there was a check list of things that helped when I was feeling bad. I was fascinated to see that laying down in my room was one of the options. Most hospitals I had been in forbade that, with some going so far as to lock the doors to the bedrooms during the day so people didn’t sleep the day away. It was a pleasant surprise, and I checked that off along with a few others that I felt applied. 

Then, the nurse, and we’ll just call her Rose, asked me if I was hungry and told me that they always had sandwiches on the unit and that the kitchen which held milk, orange juice, flavored water, cold water, hot water, coffee, teas, and various snacks was open 24/7. I declined both sandwich and snack.

Finally, I was left alone for a couple of minutes and I had a moment to just breathe. It was a Thursday according to the giant whiteboard that had the day’s schedule on it. Most of the groups were over with.

A little bit later a bag was brought up with my clothes and another with the few things I was allowed to have: my Bible; two coloring books; two books (A Street Cat Named Bob and A Wrinkle in Time); my toothbrush, my hair brush, and my composition notebook; were given to me. The clothes I wasn’t given yet. I was told by a nurse that because of COVID they washed everything that came on the unit whether it was clean or not and I would get my clothes once they were dry.

I was then shown my room. Number 219 was to be my home for the foreseeable future. It was a fair sized room, the walls painted hospital blue, the floor had boring brown patterned tiles, There was a plastic chair, a twin size bed with a single pillow, and brown blanket, and bottom sheet. There was no flat sheet. 

There was a set of built in shelves and a small alcove with an unbreakable mirror and large shelf where I put my green folder as well as my other personal belongings that I was permitted to have. I hung around in there for a few minutes before wandering back out and awkwardly looked around.

It was soon 8:30pm and Rose, who was my nurse that night, offered me my bedtime medications. I accepted and went to bed. 

The Schedule

I slept fitfully that night. I was scared, they checked on me every 15 minutes, and it wasn’t quite dark when I went to bed. I woke up obscenely early the next morning, which is very unusual for me, but I attribute it to the uncomfortable mattress, the lack of my comfort item; a stuffed cat named Fat Cat that I sleep with, and the fact that my room had a double window that faced directly East. The sun rises at about 4:45am right now, so it woke me up at around 5:30am that morning.

I wandered out, thinking it was much later than it actually was, since it was fully light out. I sleepily blinked at the analog clock and tried to decipher it. Inwardly I groaned at the time. To kill time, I awkwardly wandered around the unit again, and I think I laid back down for a little while. 

Eventually I left my room again and it was 7:30am. Shift change. I can’t remember who my nurse was that morning, but by 8am it had become quite the busy place with the morning nurses, the mental health workers, the social workers, and the group leaders milling about the nurses station. 

I noticed that the whiteboard had changed with the day, and so I glanced at the Friday schedule.

8am - Breakfast 9am - Community Meeting 10am - OT Movement 11am - Psychotherapy 12pm - Lunch 1pm - Courtyard (yellow level) 2pm - OT Activities 3:30pm Shift Change 4pm - Courtyard (yellow level) 5pm - Supper 6:15pm - Game room/small courtyard (yellow level) 7pm - Wrap Up 8pm - Free Time 9pm - Relaxation 10pm - Phones/computer/TV off

Yes, we had a computer. Some guy we’ll just call J tended to hog it, but so long as it wasn’t group, before morning shift change or after 10pm or 11pm on Friday night and Saturday night, anybody could use it. Of course Facebook and YouTube were blocked, but Vimeo wasn’t. Can somebody please tell me the difference between YouTube and Vimeo? 

I didn’t really go to groups that first day, and I was on Red level, so I wasn’t allowed outside even if I had wanted to. I did however see the Social Worker, a very nice woman we’ll just call M. and my doctor via ZOOM, Dr. L. 

All of the staff was really nice to me, and the unit, which at that point had a census of 19, was actually fairly quiet for the most part.

When 8am hit, and the breakfast trays arrived, I asked where I should go to eat. I was told I could eat on the porch, the day room, or in my room. Eating in peace alone in my room. Yes, please. I took my tray, got a carton of milk, and walked down the hall to my room. 

When I pulled the lid off my plate, I discovered eggs, home fries, and a corn muffin. I also had some fruit. I cautiously tried the potatoes and found them to be quite good, but couldn’t eat anything else so I took my tray back.

I hovered awkwardly around the schedule board until somebody brought me a chair.

Then it happened. My stomach began churning. I went to the nurses station and told one of the three nurses that I had a bit of an upset stomach and could I have something for it? She looked up something and told me I could have some Tums. She sent me to the med window and used some fancy machine to dispense the Tums. I stuck them in my mouth and chewed. I swallowed. It was then that I knew I had made a mistake. I literally felt the Tums hit my stomach, felt my stomach cramp, and then I was vomiting. 

After that experience and the cleaning up thereof, I got my morning meds at around 9am, and soon found myself back in the interview room, this time with a nutritionist. At least I think that was Friday. It could have been Monday. Regardless, I talked to her about being sick (it wasn’t the first time, I had gotten sick back in the ED as well), my lack of appetite, my diabetes, the medication for diabetes I was on (2000mg of Metformin and .5mg of Ozempic). She gave me some information the nutritionist I had talked to from my doctor’s office had already given me, then ordered Glucerna for me three times per day.

Glucerna is the diabetics version of Ensure for those of you who don’t know.

I slept a lot that day, and I’m pretty sure I refused lunch and maybe supper. They checked on me - and everybody else - every 15 minutes, but otherwise didn’t pester me.

The next day, of course, started the weekend. I can’t remember the exact schedule for the weekend, but it was far, far more boring than then weekday. There was just Community Meeting which I wandered into but didn’t participate in, a couple more courtyard opportunities than on the weekdays, more free time, Wrap Up and Relaxation. Relaxation happened at 9pm, but I already considered that bedtime as that was when I got my bedtime medication.

Sunday was just a repeat of Saturday with one bright exception. Sunday Sundaes. At around 2pm we got ice cream with sundae toppings that we could have on it. I don’t think I got it that first Sunday, but I can’t quite remember.

Monday doesn’t bring any particular memories except that that’s when I started attending a group here and there.

Meeting Nathan

Then Tuesday came, and I met Nathan. Nathan was a Psych intern who is now no longer there, so I’m not afraid of using his name. Nathan did 11am Psychotherapy, but had been on vacation the week before as well as Monday. I liked him instantly. He spoke quietly, thoughtfully, gently, and never pressed for answers if the person didn’t want to or couldn’t.

At first, we only spoke in group, but after one group disintegrated into chaos he ended it early and offered to speak to me one-on-one. The one-on-one time I got with Nathan, which eventually became every weekday, became the best, most helpful part of my stay at the Retreat. Some of his questions were hard. They were either highly thought provoking or brought on strong emotions, but he was very skilled in not pushing too hard and always bringing me back to the present if I got too lost in the past. 

I think I opened up more to Nathan in the week and a half that we spoke than I ever did in the two years I’ve seen my normal therapist. 

The Nightmares

I’ve suffered from nightmares for a very long time. In my nightmares I’ve been raped, had my home invaded, seen demons, had my parents stolen away by a dragon (that one happened twice. Same stupid dragon too.), been kidnapped, been chased around Wal-Mart by paramedics with a stretcher, and so on and so forth. The nightmares I suffered at the Retreat were something else entirely.

The dream I remember most, and let me list off some trigger warnings real quick: blood; abortion; abuse; infant death; decomposition; bad parenting; bad medical professionals, was about this young woman who tried to do some sort of home abortion that got botched. She went to the hospital and they sent her strait to surgery where they cut her open with no painkillers or anesthesia. The baby was tiny, but healthy and viable, so they took her out of the young woman’s womb, and haphazardly stapled the woman’s abdomen back together. 

Then the dream began to focus on the baby, but not in linear time, but rather in snapshots. In the first snapshots the baby was fine. Pink, perfect, beautiful little girl dressed in frills. Then the next day’s photographs and the baby’s face was turning black in places. The next; her eyes turned murky and there was more decomposition. Mind you, while she’s decomposing, she’s still alive. Then her little fingers turn black and fall off, and it continues like this until the fifth day when the baby finally dies.

The mother, who was recovering from her own trauma, couldn’t have cared less about her baby.

The nightmare turned weird after that and I don’t remember what happened next, but I continued to have vicious nightmares during my stay there.

Dr. L tried to treat them with Prazosin. but I found that it made my nightmares more vivid. Then she tried to get me in a deeper sleep so the dreams wouldn’t wake me up, but that only got me caught in the nightmares and unable to wake up. 

We never did figure out how to ease the nightmares and keep me asleep at the same time. Right now we’re trying a higher dose of Gabapentin, also known as Neurontin. I guess we’ll see how it works out.

Strange Characters 

There were some...interesting characters at the Retreat. There was one guy who we’ll call J. You may recall him from my complaints about him being a computer hog. He suffered from delusions of grandeur and I believe psychosis. One time I was in the open area near the nurses station he began staring at me suspiciously. Then, after a couple of very awkward moments he asks me, “are you an Imperial or a Rebel?” I told him I had no idea what he was referring to. Miss J who was sitting near by goes, “she’s an imperial, she’s a good girl.” Then J nods and says  “I know she’s my sister in Christ, so she must be good.”

I still have no idea what he meant by Imperial or Rebel. Is it a Star Wars thing? If so I thought the Rebels were the good guys. I’m so confused. 

Miss J was a homeless woman who had been there for nearly nine weeks. She was very nice to me, but she mumbled a lot and I had to keep asking her to repeat herself. 

M was a strange old lady. She would sit at the nurses station and laugh and laugh and laugh as loudly as she could, then all of the sudden she’d be declaring one of the housekeepers an angel on earth and how he should be protected and how everybody else was basically garbage. She eventually got taken out via ambulance.

A was another strange woman. Having been there since May 27th, 2021, she was there involuntary, She talked to herself a lot, drank loads of coffee, walked in and out of groups, and was best buddies with a woman who liked to be called Rabbit, as her real name, the same name as A, triggered her. A and Rabbit were thick as thieves and fed off of each other’s chaos.

Rabbit liked to sing at the top of her lungs when she was happy and when she was angry she would file a grievance, announce loudly that Obama was her father and that you (the nurse she was screaming at) aren’t her boss. She was nice enough to me, but I went out of my way to be as non-intrusive as possible.

Then there was D. D was 30-years-old, claimed to have 12 children. D was volatile, a substance abuser who enjoyed “a drink, some weed, and some coke”. Pretty sure she didn’t mean the soda. D had a shadow who had to write down what she was doing every five minutes. I don’t know exactly why, for the most part, volatile or not, she was pretty chill. She dressed provocatively and the first time she spoke to me it was early morning and we were on the porch.

She asked me why I was there. I told her depression. She asks my why I was depressed. I admitted that there was a lot of trauma in my past. She tells me she’s been (tw:rape) raped all her life, and then proceeded to tell me that I shouldn’t be depressed because I was pretty and thin. Now. I’m smaller than D was, because I’ve never had children, let alone 12 of them, but I’m 5′3″ and 210 pounds; thin is not an adjective I would use to describe me. 

She then proceeds to tell me that I needed a better bra. I was wearing a soft low support sports bra, so yeah, my chest area was very un interesting. I told her I was just wearing something I could sleep comfortably in. She told me to shop at Victoria’s Secret for some better bras and I’d feel great. 

After that, D decides to mention the gray in my hair. She says “you should get extensions to make your hair long and pretty, or better yet, shave your head and wear wigs. It’s what the black girls do.” She then went on about how wigs could really look good and how I’d have so much fun with it that I’d forget all about being depressed and how there were some sites where you could buy some good wigs for really cheap.

As I recall, I was fairly unresponsive during her spiel and walked away as soon as it wasn’t rude to. 

The Really Bad Day

I don’t recall exactly what day it was, time blurs for me on a good day, and I wasn’t having any good days while I was at the Retreat, but one day was really bad.

TW: Suicide TW: Self-Harm

I was really, really suicidal, and I told the nurse I was talking to that. She asked if I had a plan, and for the first time I really did. I told her I would wait until right after a check - remember we got checked on every 15 minutes - then I would take a pair of my pants and wrap them around my neck and strangle myself. 

Then she asked if I intended to follow through with the plan. I wanted to, I really did, but I also didn’t want to cause trouble, and that’s a huge issue with me, so I told her no. And that was the truth. I was suicidal, I did have a plan. I had a detailed plan actually. But I didn’t really intend of following through.

As you might expect, she had to report that to my doctor. Dr. L. spoke to me about how I was feeling and later, about five minutes after I had gotten on the computer to use Duolingo to distract myself, (See, I was using coping skills.), the nurse I had spoken to, and who I liked quite a lot, came to me and said that Dr. L wanted them to temporarily confiscate my clothes and take the sheet and blanket off my bed. It was to be replaced by blankets that couldn’t be ripped. Nurse E told me it wasn’t a punishment, it was a safety precaution, but I was so embarrassed and felt punished. I was allowed to keep the weighted blanket they had let me borrow, and my pillow, but other than that they took every bit of fabric in the room.

I don’t know if it was a good move or not. I just know that I wanted things back to ‘normal’, as though anything in a psych hospital could be normal, but the next day I lied to Dr. Lambert and told her I was feeling better. She said I could have my stuff back, but for some reason when I asked a nurse later on, she told me that there were no orders about it from Dr. L. 

I asked again the next day and was finally able to get my linens and clothes back. I even got an extra pillow, for which I was very grateful for as my original pillow had been quite flat and hard.

The Road to Discharge

I was originally supposed to have been released on June 29th, a Tuesday, but I had to admit to Dr. L that I just didn’t feel like I could be safe at home yet. Not to mention that we were still trying to deal with my nightmares and sleep issues.

Dr. L and M, my social worker began giving me assignments to do. I was to fill out a safety plan, which I did. M had me write a letter to my regular therapist about the changes I needed her to make to improve our sessions. I am terrified to read it to her, but I really need to. I was given a huge stack of DBT (Dialectical Behavioral Therapy) information and worksheets to fill out, Nathan had me write something about a cousin of mine who had passed away due to an overdose of Fentanyl, and so I wrote her a letter telling her how much I missed her, how I was angry she was gone, disappointed that she couldn’t tell me she was back on drugs, how I was angry at her mom for getting her hooked on drugs in the first place, and ways I could have helped if she had just let me.

Meanwhile, people found out that I could make things out of the Model Magic that they had in the Contraband/Sensory room. I made I can’t even remember how many cats for people. I also made roses, and one dragon. 

I was also writing dark poetry, just trying to purge my dark thoughts and get them out on paper.

Nathan continued to have one-on-one therapy with me each weekday, even if he only had half an hour.

I was meeting with my social worker daily, which they normally didn’t do, but when she realized that I wouldn’t go to them if I needed something, she decided to head it off, and meet with me, even if it were only a couple of minutes, each week day.

Finally, we decided on a day. Friday, July 2, 2021. I was so nervous, but so excited to come home and see my furbaby, Loki. 

When the day came, I dressed in the nicest clothes that I had brought, which was a pair of elastic waist jeggings and my pink Cat Mom t-shirt which everybody loved. I only went to one group that day, and that was Psychotherapy, and I had my meeting with Nathan. I had one last meeting with Dr. L. and my social worker. My nurse that evening gave me my treatment plan which had my diagnoses. (Major depressive disorder, severe; Borderline Personality Disorder; and Post Traumatic Stress Disorder)

Just as supper arrived I got the word that my ride was there. 

Final Thoughts

Being at the Brattleboro Retreat was a difficult experience, but it was also a positive experience. In the beginning I was mad I wasn’t at the place where I had wanted to go, which was the Windham Center, but by the end of my first week there, I had decided to make the best of where I was. I didn’t like all the nurses, I definitely had my favorites and those I dreaded, not that they were ever mean to me, but I’m not sure, there’s just people you don’t like, you know? 

I was on a great schedule while I was there. I was up no later than 8am and went to bed around 9pm, I ate at specific times. I got my medicine at specific times, and that routine was very comforting. Did I keep to it when I got home? 

No. It’s currently 12:26 in the morning and I’m working on this still. 

I’m still drinking my Glucerna, no matter that it costs me $40 a week for three a day, but I just don’t want to eat. Oh, I nibble. I’ve eaten some chocolate graham crackers and sipped on a 20oz Vanilla Coca Cola over the last four days. I just don’t eat. 

I learned, while I was there, that it’s okay to speak up, to take up space, to have a voice, even if it’s quiet, I learned that it’s okay to get angry or ask for help. I can ask people for what I need. I don’t know how well I’ll be able to apply what I learned, but that’s always the hardest part of learning any new skill. 

I know that this has been a huge amount of reading, but I wanted to give you a detailed example of what a psychiatric hospital is like. I hope that it informs you and I hope that if you’re heading to a psychiatric hospital or treatment center that maybe after reading this you’ll have less fear and anxiety because you have some clue as to what to expect.

I would also like to let my readers know that these are just my personal experiences in an American psychiatric hospital. I have no idea about British hospitals or European hospitals or even hospitals in other parts of the United States. My experiences in hospitals in Florida is a stark contrast to my experience in Vermont hospitals. I find Vermont’s response to medical care and psychiatric care in general is substantially better than Florida’s. I’ll do a post on that later.

Ask for help. Take up space. Use your voice.

National Suicide Hotline: 800 273-8255 Crisis Text Line: Text START to 741741

By the way, if you need me to tag another trigger word, please just send me a message and I’ll edit the tags to take your trigger word in consideration.

[maladaptive-ninja-returns]

Dawn (5)

Loki x fem!Reader

ONE/TWO/THREE SHOT

Warnings:hurt, danger, wild beasts

Summary: A truce to end all wars leads to an alliance between Earth and Asgard in the form of Loki marrying a mortal. None of them what this. None except fate.

Word Count: Whenever my brain is excited I dance. Today I danced- it was the worst but I had fun- because I had an off from work. And because I knew I was going to write :D Yayy!!! People should not see me dancing when I am alone. Especially when I am in the kitchen waiting for the water to boil. No wonder that stray cat has a weird look on her face whenever she comes by for some milk and I am in the kitchen.

MASTERLIST in bio, darlings. Tags are open (check bio)

"You do realise I am being kept alive for negotiations. So, it wouldn't kill to give me a cloak at the very least! I am freezing here!"

"Then why did you rip your skirt apart!"

"Are you kidding me?! Can you not see my legs?!!! They cannot handle the itchy fabric, you dumbfuck! Look at all the redness! Now get me a goddamn cloak!"

The stubborn stares go on till the guard decides to give up and get out of the tent for five minutes of silence. "Do not run because we will-"

"Do I look like I am in shape to run? DO I?!!"

The orc gurgles in irritation before stomping out and you get down to work.

It was not easy to tear into the fabric with the hidden knife strapped to your thigh. But once the first slit was made, the ripping was easy. Something you had learned while hanging out with Sybll was the sturdiness of the Vanaheim fabric that you were wearing. It has three layers. The first one being cotton harvested in the local fields that lets the legs breathe. The third and the innermost one is the silk woven by the silkworms cultivated by the royalty. But the second layer is the most interesting one. This used thin stretchable threads to wire a protective sheath around the cotton and thus the body. The thread work is done almost like body armour, loose enough to breathe in, tight enough to leave no room for error. But there is another thing about these threads that is the most crucial thing to getting you out of here. They have high tensile strength.

Your hands have already got to work to get those threads apart. Surprisingly it is easy to do so once you realise it is all one huge strand going about. It is hard to slash it into multiple pieces but your knife seemed to have done half the job for you. One end of the strands go to the end of every lamp and candle- even the oil lamps- in the tent, tied together by the other end to meet one thread that you tie around your fingers just when the orc enters the tent.

You are quick to straighten your back and look down on him. “Well?”

“Master says you can survive the night. If you don’t he’ll get you a coat.”

Son of a-

“Okay,” you shrug, getting up and picking the remnants of your dress in your hand before walking towards the opening of the tent, “come on then.”

“You are not going anywhere, missy,” the ugly creature growls, trying to stop you by placing his arm in between you and the path to the opening.

“Thanks to your master, now I have to pee because of the cold. And trust me this won’t be the first time I do it tonight.”

The orc has a shade of confusion and fear colouring his face that is followed by hues of hesitation. “Unless you want the tent to reek of piss,” you add, making it easier for the orc to huff and growl before walking in front of you.

Wrapping the remnant of you the poofy part of your dress around your shoulders, hiding the string in your hands that are thin and transparent enough to not be seen.

The cold air outside brings some relief along with a pit of anxiety in your stomach as you watch many more orcs sitting around the fire while many other armoured ones roam about other tents, growling, gambling, drinking and causing as much of a ruckus as they could. 

A couple of wild eyes look at you from one corner or another, forcing you to tuck the ripped fabric closer to you. Some try to stand in your way and watch as you squeeze through whatever narrow passageway they leave for you, all the while letting you curl a few more strings by the poles that housed the burning torches.

A couple more tedious steps and a racing heartbeat, and you are by the edge of the forest, searching for a good vantage point.

"Don't go too far. I will catch you," the orc grunts at you. 

You give him a stink eye before taking a few more steps uphill within the trees. "Keep an eye out for any perverts or animals," you order the creature, who in turn scoffs and spits on the ground.

"Great. I would rather be eaten by a wild boar than be kept prisoner," you mutter loud enough for the orc to hear and scratch his bald head, ponder upon it and then turn around in disgruntled annoyance.

The moment his gaze has averted, you drop the fabric from around you and pick up the mess of the threads. It is a miracle that none of the connections seems to have broken yet. 

Okay, here goes nothing.

Wrapping the bunch around your palm, you gather enough air in your lungs and yank the strings running down towards the tents, trying your best not to grunt or scream in agony the threads put on your palm.

There is some movement. And then there is a faint sound of something snapping. What follows is a ball of fire going up in the air where you were being held against your will. And yelling. Lots of yelling.

Gradually the fire is being seen in more tents, orcs and white elves running around trying to make sense of the mayhem.

The orc that has accompanied you watches the fire, a layer of a certain fear building in his eyes. He starts to turn around but is stopped with a dagger to his throat.

One blow to the throat and then make sure you take the weapon out. Let them bleed to death. Just like Natasha taught you. You hesitate to take the dagger out but are promoted to do so- with a light scream- when the orc tries to claw into your arm, bringing his own death unto himself faster.

It is disgusting; the gargling, the trembling body that collapses on the ground, the failed attempt of him reaching out for you with eyes that are about to pop out while he drowns in his own blood. It is disgusting but you cannot seem to take your eyes off the helpless figure of that creature. With zero ideas about what your subconscious is thinking, a step is taken towards the writhing body till you can hear cries coming closer to the edge of the forest, forcing you to come out the trance and run into the deep for your life.

.

Sybll does not see it coming. The orcs or their attacks. She knows she isn't alone in the forest but she does not realise it will be the orcs that she will run into while searching for Y/N.

No words are exchanged. No greetings or warnings. Just the exposed dirty fangs of the emotionless creatures bared at her as she tries a protection spell. It does work, but only against the first attack. She knows the only option she now has is to run.

Oh, spirits of the forest, help me!

It does not take much time for them to catch up to her, surrounding her to play with her before they can feast on her in whatever sense they want to.

The first orc to step towards her- while the others howl and hoot with a sense of victory- disappears with a black whirlwind that comes and goes in the blink of an eye.

It confuses the orcs, making them look all around them before one of them tries to go for Sybll. This time too, the black whirlwind comes and takes this one. Now, the fear in those yellow eyes is real. The fear of the unknown striking from the darkness.

But it doesn't take a while for them to witness the golden eyes glimmering in the darkness at them, seemingly floating in the black as it watches them, their every step, every little ounce of fear trickling down their murky bodies.

The strikes happen without a warning. Before she can blink, the orcs are gone. All that is left of them is an arm dumped at her feet.

She never sees it coming. The predator or the prey.

.

It is getting harder to breathe. The running and the fear that is burning you inside out are not working too well with your tired limbs. It is hard to suppress the clamorous breathing when you hide yourself behind a tree. The cacophony of the party searching for you comes and goes from a distance, adding certain minutes to your life. It is a boon that the moonlight cannot reach down to the ground in here, making it easier for you to hide or walk about without being seen. What your frail little heart does not contemplate is that the enemy has thought of the same.

Once the silence seems to have returned around you, you get up and make your way towards the edge of the cliff where the moonlight seems to be filtering through the leaves and trees. Need to find a way back. Need to find a way back. Oh, Gods, I hope Sif and the others are okay. I’m sure they’re okay. This idiot just wanted me. Yeah, yeah, they are definitely okay. Didn’t see them back at that camp so-

A snap of a twig sounds somewhere behind you just when you reach in the clearing, realising the vulnerability as the moon makes your skin glimmer under its borrowed light.

“I love the attempt, my dear,” Torbarik’s voice comes from the edge of the forest before he steps into the light, “but you should have thought this through.”

Six elves just like him, three on either side come out behind him, their weapons thirsting for some blood in those itchy hands.

“I did, actually, think this through.” You did not. “Either I reach back to my family safely or you, Torbarik, will die by their hands when they come for blood for my death.”

Torbarik’s thick brows rise a little in mild surprise, his eyes moving between you and the thousand feet deep valley behind you. “Do you really want to kill yourself?” he mocks you, chuckling at your futile attempt to threaten him.

“I would rather die than live in your-”

“Is that how badly you want to get out of your marriage?”

That hits a nerve.

“Excuse me? This has nothing to do with my marriage.”

“Did he chuck you out of his room on your wedding night?” the elf guffaws and his men follow suit, rubbing you in all the wrong ways.

The fear that his elf had been inculcating inside you till now seems to be fading away as something else is starting to take place. Rage, probably.

“Stop it.”

“Is that what you said when he tried to have his way with you?” The laughter that follows itches every part of your brain.

You do not utter a word till they are done holding their stomachs. “What happened? Cat got your tongue?”

You do not blink and Torbarik, for the first time that night sees something feral shine from inside your eyes. “Say another word about Loki from your maggot-filled mouth and I will personally cut your tongue and feed it to you before slicing your throat and driving a blade right through your skull.”

They try to chuckle at the threat but the perilous aura surrounding you makes it difficult to do so.

Torbarik smiles and takes a step towards you, closing the distance enough for him to run a finger on your cheek. He does not show it but he can feel his insides tremble when you do not so much as change the pattern of your breathing on his touch.

“Turn a smidge more ferocious and I might start to do things to you that I have been thinking about for a while my dear,” he whispers to you.

It is hard to keep up the rock-like facade but you are lucky to be interrupted by a voice from the edge of the trees.

“Stop!”

All eyes turn to the voice, not being able to handle the shock to see you stand there.

“What in the nine circles of Hel?!” Torbarik is shifting his gaze between you next to him and you standing close to his guards. “Guards!” he yells at the elves to capture the one that just came out of the forest while you are stepping away from this one as your brain tries to take in your doppelganger.

The guards barely get close to her when they are thrown back into the clearing by huge black clouds growling and snarling at them.

Wolves!

With their teeth bared and their golden eyes sharp at their prey, they have their claws dug in the ground, waiting for something.

Oh. Oh, Gods. Oh my-

The doppelganger looks right at you and gives you a knowing smirk before softly declaring, “Árás,” and breaking all Hel loose.

The wolves jump at their prey. Agonising screams and cries fill the night and Torbarik watches with a newfound fear the end of his greatest men, his mouth agape, his skin whiter than it was before.

That is when he watches- from the corner of his eyes- your figure starting to run in the direction where your mirror image stands, giving in to his impulse and catching hold you buy your waist, before restraining you with a hand around your neck and the other arm around your torso.

“Let me through or she dies!” It is yelled more like a command than a request, of course.

The doppelganger takes a step in your direction. You can feel Torbarik’s erratic pulse in his hold around you when he pulls you a step back towards the edge of the cliff with him.

She steps, watching him before turning to you.

“I think,” she starts, looking down at your legs before catching your eyes again, “you do not realise how dangerous she is, Torbarik.”

And then it hits you.

Struggling with one hand, you use the other to fish underneath your dress, going for your thigh holster and feeling the cold hilt of your blade under your fingers.

The next bit happens in a flash. The distracted elf never sees the rage-filled stab coming for his thigh and ends up screaming. The pain loosens his grip on you, allowing you to stab back right by his lower rib cage and stepping away from him.

Even in the agony, his curses at you do not stop but for the moment in which green and yellow glow emanate from your doppelganger and in her stead stands Loki.

Torbarik is on the ground now, bleeding as he looks up in shock at Loki.

“Loki, my Prince,” he utters, wincing through the pain while trying to crawl towards the God, “I think there *grunts* might have been a mis-*inhales*- misunderstanding.”

Loki watches the elf with a blank expression before turning his head to watch you. Within a few steps, he is standing in front of you, looking down at your face, taking in every little scare and every bruise that has started to form. You can feel his gaze on every wound and spots of dried blood on you, unsure what he was going to do.

Loki’s hands are in the air around you as a black fur coat appears in his grasp that is wrapped around your trembling frame, restoring some warmth within an instant.

He does not shift his stance, but he does turn to look at Torbarik hiding a knife while trying to make his way to Loki.

“You hurt my wife,” Loki declares into the wind that has started to blow, “there is nothing we can work around now.”

With that declaration, he whistles, and the wolves come back already hungry for some more violence.

“Loki, n-no,” Torbarik stammers at the sight of the fanged beasts slowly making their way towards him, “we can have a t-truce!”

“Taka hann í burtu,” Loki announces to the wolves, stopping Torbarik’s heart.

Torbarik begs for mercy as the wolves drag him into the forest by his legs, the sounds going away with them; for good.

Once the silence resumes, Loki turns back to look at you. The wind is bringing with the smell of moist soil from a place that seems to have witnessed fresh showers. He does not realise soon enough that you are still in a little shock, looking at him to make sure he really is standing there.

“Y/N,” he finally speaks, “are you all right?”

The pent up emotions have no place for a release but the eyes. And so they rise up with the moisture, waiting on the edge to fall at a moment’s notice.

“You came.” Your voice trembles and it scares you that it does, forcing you to take in as much air as you can.

“Why would I not?” he is surprised. “Did you have doubts?”

You stop breathing, going blank for a few seconds. “A little?”

All he does is smile, giving you soft eyes. “Come on, let’s get you back to the pal-”

“You’re wearing black. Is this a stealth suit of sorts? Is that a braid? In your hair?”

Your voice is soft and filled with curiosity. Loki realises you have never seen him in this attire before. Neither have you seen those braids in his hair.

“Yes. And yes,” he answers patiently, not realising how much he is liking this.

“I like it,” you reply, your eyes still stuck on his braid running from one side of his head down the length of his hair, “it looks really nice.”

Your voice says that but your face somehow feels it is in pain. And just as Loki is about to ask you, he feels his body jerk back a little when you step in to wrap your arms around his torso.

You do not know if he approves of this, but you do know that you need this right now. Just a few seconds till your body calms down and regains some sense. And the will to walk without any breakdowns that you are not made aware of beforehand.

It is a need for you but it is a confusing surprise for Loki. He does not remember the last time he was hugged. He is sure it must have been Frigga on the other end some ages ago though any memories of that love are nothing but a blur. He has never had a touch stop his breath like it does today. And this? Your gesture of embracing him as tightly as you can, leaning on him for some sort of comfort after being chased by danger sends his conscience into a slow whirlpool of its own. That whirlpool, instead of sucking something in, seems to bring out this unexplainable warmth in his chest that he has never felt before. How could he? He has not been hugged like this before. And so, the God of Mischief is left speechless, standing at the edge of the world with a human, making him do the one thing for which he cannot give himself a rational explanation.

He wraps his arms around you, hugging you back; feeling the glow in his chest grow denser and brighter by the second. His hand rests on your head, caressing it, feeling lighter just by that action. At that moment he knows.

He knows what is the one thing he is going to care for till the end of his life.

[thesunandseonghwa]

Shadows and Angels | Part One

chan x reader | changbin x reader

warnings: violence, being drugged. 

genre: angst, kinda fluff idk?

1.7k words

i sincerely hope this is decent, this is literally my first fic ever lmao.

see here for glossary of starred terms

masterlist

You didn't know why you were here, it was noisy and the flashing neon lights had begun to give you a killer headache. You sat at the bar, looking over at your best friend who seemed to be having the time of her life every so often. Your best friend had insisted on going to this party, supposedly she had been invited by some other friends of hers but something about the place made you uneasy. It was just a regular club as far as you could tell and you had convinced yourself you were just being paranoid but you could of sworn you had seen some strange things about the people here.

Bright yellow cat eyes on a guy in a jacket covered in glitter, a women with a spiked tail trailing behind her through the slit in the back of her red dress.

You had probably just had too much to drink or the lights had to be playing tricks on you. Nevertheless, you still felt on edge.

You turned your head as you felt a tug on your shoulder, "Come with me to the bathroom, I need to pee!"

Your best friend laughed as she tugged on you to come along, you stood up from your seat to follow after her. You surprised yourself when your head instantly felt like a thousand tons and your vision blurred in front of you, you shook your head trying to take one step in front of the other but you couldn't and your best friend was quickly fading away into the throngs of people. You tried to call out to her but it was impossible to hear you over the deafening music.

Your drink, it must have been drugged by someone you thought, as you felt your knees buckle under you. You were sure your head was about to hit the floor but a strange man came to support you before you fall. Lifting your feet off the ground and walking on,

You didn't know if this person was your saviour or a nightmare because you could no longer hold on.

﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤

"I told you going to this rave was going to be useless, Changbin," Chan rolled his eyes at his parabatai, they were surrounded by downworlders* but not the right downworlder. Not the ones he knew Changbin was looking for.

The two of them were no stranger to downworlder raves but Chan knew a lost cause when he saw one, "Hey man, I know you're struggling but this isn't how we're going to avenge your father,"

Chan put his hand on Changbin's shoulder, he could feel the unease in him. The unrelenting anger and frustration too and Chan felt it too.

Changbin's father had died nearly a year ago. A few years prior to his death, he had become addicted to a substance called Yin Fen*. His father ultimately succumbed to his addiction. Once you had built a dependency on Yin Fen, you could either stop taking it and die or continue to take it and slowly die. It was a lose-lose situation if you were to put it in extremely insensitive terms. His father had been killed by downworlders, presumably vampires as he gone to them quite frequently to procure more Yin Fen however this time, the vampires he had gone too were not willing to bargain. The accords* could not protect him, these vampires were not like the others. They were Downworlders that did not care for the accords. They were rogues in a sense, hellbent on causing as much trouble as they could for the Nephilim. They hated the accords and shadowhunters alike.

Changbin's father like his son had been a shadowhunter. A shadowhunter who had ended up tangled with the wrong crowd after the death of Changbin's mother. This 'crowd' had been the reason why his father's addiction began. Chan knew the way Changbin felt about finding the people that had killed his father, they had spent the past few months tracking down each and every person that had any connection to his father's addiction and ultimate murder as instructed by the head of their institute.

They had been tracking one of the vampires but the trail has gone cold, trying to find one vampire at a downworlder rave was like trying to find one specific needle in a stack of other similar looking needles. It was difficult to differentiate thus making it even more difficult to find.

Chan tried to block out the deafening hum of the music as Changbin leaned closer to say something to him, "I think I found our vampires,"

Chan followed Changbin's gaze to see two men, skin pale as night, carrying what looked to be a mundane* girl between them. Her arms were slung over the one vampire's shoulder, her feet dragging on the floor.

They followed the vampires out the back door into a dark alley just behind the club, Changbin flanking them

"If you could just leave the mundane alone, we'd like to talk," Changbin said, his Seraph* blade a few centimeters shy from the vampire's heart. A smile graced his features, one Chan knew well but nevertheless one that scared him sometimes. It was almost like he enjoyed this, in a way it was almost like revenge.

"You have no business here, Shadowhunters," The other vampire hissed,

"We just want to ask you some questions about-" Chan wasn't able to finish his sentence as the vampire made a lunge for him. Chan dodged with a quick tuck and roll. He steeled himself for a battle but when he looked again, they were gone with the wind at a pace neither him or Changbin could follow.

The girl no longer supported by the vampire had slid to floor in a heap. Right now, he shouldn't worry about a randon mundane's possible concussion but it unfortunately cross his mind. He wasn’t evil, a concussion and a hangover was just cruel and not to mention the come-down from whatever the vampires had drugged her with

"So, what are we supposed to do with this problem?" Changbin said gesturing toward the girl on the floor. 

"I-I'm not anyone's problemmm, pretty boy!" The girl suddenly interjected, her voice slurring.

"She can see you? She can see us?" Changbin's eyebrows knitted together as he spoke, clearly perplexed. Chan didn't have to say it, he felt the same.

"She has the sight*," Chan said, bending down to the girl’s height. He propped her up against the nearby wall. He did feel sort of bad for treating her like a sack of potatoes but he didn’t have much choice.

“What are we supposed to do with her then, Chan?” Changbin muttered, clearly annoyed about losing the vampires, “She could be just a mundane for all we know?” 

“A mundane with the sight that’s not exactly common is it?” Chan chose to ignore his parabatai’s attitude, he shook the girl’s shoulder

Her eyes fluttered open for a few seconds, she reached a hand out seemingly to touch his face. It was almost like she was trying to make sure he was real. Chan found himself gazing at her with a softness he didn’t know he had in him. Her fingers brushed his cheek softly, “You’re not an angel, right? I’m not dead?” 

“Close but no,” He laughed, his attention was drawn by the sound of the backdoor scraping open, 

The girl’s hazy eyes drifted to the newcomer, her hand dropping to the floor, she tried to stand, “Miya!” 

“y\n?!” The newcomer’s eyes darkened to black as she saw the boys, “Nephilim, what has dragged you down here?”

“Nephilim? Miya, what are you talking about?” Y/n answered, attempting to make her way to her supposed friend. Chan took a step in front of her, him and his parabatai drawing their Seraph blades. The glow of their blades lighting up the dark back alley. It felt good to stand ready with his parabatai at his side. He didn’t know what this girl was but he felt the need to protect her. 

Chan exchanged knowing looks with Changbin, this newcomer was a shape-shifting demon no doubt about it. One they had been tracking, nonetheless. A scream ripped from the supposedly mundane girl as her ‘friend’ Miya took her true form. The skin of her face ripping open to reveal a grotesque animal-like face, the human body ripping apart to reveal a disgusting demon body fit with several arms. 

Chan and Changbin advanced, they were always fierce fighters on their own but together, they were almost unstoppable. The demon hadn’t stood a chance, it’s body dissipating into nothingness as their blades cleaved cleanly through it. A fine layer of demon blood splurging out, Changbin wiped his blade off on his sleeve, “So, what are we doing with the girl? I think she’s gone into shock,”

“You’re killers!” The girl backed up against the wall, holding herself. She was shivering and he wasn’t sure if it was the shock of what had just happened or the cold. Most likely the former rather than the latter. 

“Listen, I can explain everything to you but I need you to come with us, somewhere safe,” Chan said, slipping his blade back into it’s place on his belt.

“Why should I trust you! You just killed my-” She cut herself off, 

“Obviously that wasn’t your best friend or girlfriend or whatever,” Changbin huffed, running his hand through his dark hair, 

Chan shot the boy a look, “Bin, cool it with the attitude please?” 

Changbin glared at him, Chan turned his attention back to the girl, “Y/N?” 

Her eyes, pupils shot wide looked to him. The fear in her eyes was there but she was trying not to let it show, “That’s your name, right? Mine is Chan and this is Changbin, we’re protectors of a sort and your friend, Miya was a demon,” 

“So you’re like ghostbusters for demons or something?” She said, her back was still flush against the brick wall, “What the hell is all of this, none of this makes sense!” 

“I promise we’ll both explain everything but now we need to get to somewhere safe, you can trust us,” Chan mustered up a smile, reaching a hand out to her. 

She seemed to mull over her options before she stood up straight and after some time she took his hand, “Fine, I’ll go with you,” 

“Bin, you getting the car or?” Chan asked, 

“I have a bad feeling about this and Jihyo is not going to be happy with you for bringing a mundane into the institute,”

﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤ 

I hope you liked it, thank you for reading!

 part two is coming soon. I really appreciate any and all feedback <3

[red-doll-face]

Could you do a request on The Collector with an innocent, shy and jumpy reader he's kidnapped and begins to...I'm not sure if love is the right word lust after I think, sorry haven't been requesting long. :)

The return of the bug man. Maybe if u tell him ur fav pixar movie is bugs life he'll be nice 😳 he's a lil mean in this one but not too much. Im sorry i couldnt make it longer. Thanks for requesting!! 💞

Warnings: kidnapping, slight violence, dead body mention, ambiguous ending so beware , its up to you but there are... Implications

WC: 1163

Asa 'The Collector' Emory x gn Reader

Anything

Your aunt was a solitary woman. She was rich, but not the type to share and she kept her and her family very private. You could count the times you’d gone to visit her on just one hand. That did not mean that you didn’t try and contact her. In fact you worried for your aunt. Because she drove people away, you could never tell if she was in danger or if she was ok. She never told anyone what was happening to her. So you decided that visiting her without asking was what you had to resort to. She called sometimes but she’s been more quiet than you’re used to. Which means silent.

When you pulled up to her house, it was dark already. Did she have to live so far away? The car door closed behind you and your shoes crunched along the gravel in the driveway. You ring the doorbell.

“Auntie, it’s me!” you shouted and you received no response. The garage was closed and no sound echoed from the solitary house. No lights. Not even the porch lights. You stood in the dark and as you tried to knock a little louder the door creaked open. It was almost darker inside of the house than out. The windows were covered in boards and there were objects everywhere, like someone knocked everything in the room over. You yelped as a blade connected to a wooden plank sailed down from above the doorway, ducking just out of the way. It swung on a hinge and you furrowed your brow.

“What the-?” When you turn around, a man in a weird mask is staring at you from the bottom of the stairs, eyes shining bright green. You scream and turn to run from the figure, skirting past the plank with the blade. You try for your car, fumbling with the remote to unlock the door. The man picks you up violently, struggling in his arms. You attempt to stab him with the car keys but he won’t relent. He drags you up the stairs, avoiding traps along the way. You see the corpse of your aunt's husband and you sob. You see your aunt chained up in her bedroom and her screams are muffled through a gag. She's covered in wounds, blood, sweat and grime. You cry out and she seems to get more emotional at the sight of you. He throws you down on the floor, the air leaving your lungs all at once. You gasp to gain it back, failing to notice the chains he ties around you.

“Please, just stop. Leave us alone.” You whine as he starts to force you into a red chest. Impending doom. “No. No! NO!” the world turns black as he latches the box closed, your aunt screaming and eventually, silence.

-

The box unlatched and you tumbled out, coming face to face with black combat boots. You tried to pick yourself up but your hands were tied with chains. Your wrists hurt and he shoves you into a cage. There's at least a gym mat on the floor of it and you feel cold at the thought of spending any time in there. He kicks the cage closed, latching from the outside and you whimper.

“No, please. Why are you doing this? Just tell me what I’ve done to deserve this. Please.” Tears stream down your cheeks. You couldn’t believe this. All you wanted to do was see your aunt, not get kidnapped by some serial killer. He turns to look at you but you can't read anything past the mask. He drags the red box away and you curl into the corner. The room is dark but you don't even want to try and look at it. It will make this nightmare seem more real. You fall asleep thinking about how when you wake up, it’ll be a dream and you’ll pet your cat and make breakfast and-

You wake with a start. The blue stained gym mat on the floor crinkles as you move. Your wrists are red from being tied together. You whimper. What had you done to get such a bad hand at life?

You look up to see the man watching you, sitting in a chair and observing you in your little cage. Like a little bird. Sad to be in the cage but powerless to stop it. You look to meet his eyes.

“Can you untie me? I can't get out anyway.” You stick your chained hands out of the bars and he stands, slowly but surely. He roughly tugs your hands up further, taking a small key and unlocking the mechanism. You sigh and thank him. Venom will get you nowhere. That was the expected. Perhaps a kinder attitude will lighten his hand. You may be scared but strategy will stay the course.

You hold the marks in your cage, rubbing at them to comfort yourself. You put your hands in your lap, resting your head against the bars. He was surprised at how easily you accepted this. He expected resistance but it was sort of sad how fast you settled. He retrieved the sandwich he brought you. The cutie he met at that horrendous woman's house. A lovely creature. Something he wouldn't mind pinning to the wall to look at.

He stuck the sandwich through the bars, nudging it towards you. You take it, putting it in front of you. Foolish bird.

-

It’s been probably another day inside of the dismal room and the even more morose cage. You’ve already had enough of it. You had to pee. But your captor hadn’t come back yet. You rubbed your thighs together to keep from peeing yourself.

Little do you know he's watching from a camera placed in the dark corner. You rub your thighs together, putting a hand over your crotch. Sweet thing. You probably have to pee. But you bite your lip and wiggle. He can’t stop watching you. Your face changes in nuance, your hands clutching. Your useless rocking. He thinks he’ll fix your little problem.

The cage unlocks and you see the man walk in. He holds the cage door open and you take the chance he gives you. You exit the cage, following the tight fingers on your wrist. He leads you to a simple room with a toilet and a sink. He locks you in and you curse. There are no windows. Of course. You handle business and knock and the door opens. He’s still wearing that weird mask. You come out and he grabs your wrist.

“No, I don’t want the cage. Please, I don’t want the cage.” You cry out. You sob and blubber. “You leave me in there, I don’t- please, I’ll do anything.” You shake and grab at his arms. He freezes at the word anything. Anything. Everyone says anything. But does the songbird mean it?

He tugs you out of the cage. You’ll wish you hadn’t said ‘anything’.

Thanks for reading!! Never enough bug boy content.

[alarawriting]

The Cold At The Heart of the Light: Chapter One

I’ve decided I’ll post probably the first three chapters of this as I work on it. There’s currently six chapters written and the seventh is started; I have been planning about twelve of them.

This is gonna have to be edited a lot when I finish the whole thing -- it’s too goddamn long, for one thing -- but I can’t spend too much time editing the first draft when I’m not done with it.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

As soon as the maid led me to the living room and I got my first look at the little girl, I could tell the child was dying.  She was sitting on an overstuffed, white suede couch with brown fringy pillows all around her, at the back of a living room that looked like something out of House Beautiful, all tall wide windows and understated elegance in brown and beige and gold and white. She was maybe about seven, if her disease hadn’t undersized her, feet dangling off the couch and not moving. When children whose feet are dangling are not kicking those feet, and there is neither a book nor a TV nearby to explain the discrepancy, I can generally tell something is wrong. Her blonde curly wig was as expensive as the décor of her parents’ living room, but I’m an expert in these matters – I could tell the chemo had taken her hair. And her skin was dull and dry looking, her eyes vague and unfocused, her expression indrawn and blank, her small limbs painfully skinny.  She showed all the signs of either being abused, drugged, or severely ill, and given that her father had called me in, I knew that at least it was the last. Probably the second as well.  The pharmaceutical industry has never solved the problem of stopping children’s pain to my satisfaction (or, for that matter, the children’s.)

Her mother would have been an elegantly plastic politician’s wife if she hadn’t been sitting tensely at the edge of the sofa, arm around her daughter, clutching the child. Fear and anxiety make even women with $500 haircuts and botoxed foreheads seem human. I’d already forgotten the woman’s name; after checking over the daughter with a quick glance, I turned to focus on her father. Senator John Lightman, one of those politicians who manages to look “boyish” simply by being a thin dark-haired man in his prime when everyone else in the Senate is somewhere between 60 and dead, was walking toward me, reaching out a hand as if to shake it. I saw the look of puzzlement cross his face as he got a good look at me. “Are you…”

“Dr. Mystery?” I filled in the blank. “Yes, of course, I apologize. You couldn’t possibly recognize me like this.”  I had arrived in a stock form, a middle-aged woman of average height, weight and appearance with blonde graying hair in a short fluffy do.  I couldn’t very well drive around town in my working form, but now that I was here, it was time to shock and awe the mundanes.  With a thought, I transformed.

When I first adopted this as my working form, it used to take me ten or twenty minutes in front of a mirror to get it just right, because it doesn’t look human enough for me to use DNA as a model anywhere – I have to brute-force it. But by this time I’d been doing it for so many years, it took only a few seconds. Changing doesn’t hurt – it feels like having a really good stretch, actually.  

In a moment, I was six feet tall, simultaneously busty and thin, with the golden skin of an Academy award, iris-less purple eyes with cat pupils, and flame-red hair down to the small of my back.  I wore a skin-tight black leather catsuit with no shoes, and modified pelvis and leg muscles so I looked like I was wearing high heels even though I was barefoot – an anatomic impossibility for other women, but there’s no point in having total control over your own flesh if you can’t use it to show off a little.  To complete the costume I grew a white cotton labcoat over the catsuit; not exactly a cape, but the name is Doctor Mystery, not Ms. Mystery or Lady Mystery or Sexy Chick I’d Like To Do Mystery.  

Being a supervillain’s all about the power and the respect.  Back when my working form wasn’t quite so do-me hot, I actually used to get less respect as a villain, as if a woman couldn’t possibly really be all that mad, bad and dangerous to know if she doesn’t look like a supermodel.  But when I do the catsuit without the lab coat, I get respect as a badass with dangerous powers and incredible fighting skills, not as a biomedical genius.  Not that I’m not a badass with dangerous powers and incredible fighting skills, but I’m not a teen thug for hire anymore, I’m a bona fide mad scientist and I want people to remember that, dammit.  

Mrs. Lightman’s eyes went wide, and she made a tiny little yelping noise and clutched her little girl… who rather than looking frightened, actually looked mildly interested for the first time since I’d arrived.  Her dad was trying to hide it, but his lips had compressed as if he were trying not to bite them and there was just the tiniest tremor in his hands.  I expected Mrs. Lightman’s reaction, but the Senator could have gone one of two ways – men usually react to me with fear or lust, or a combination.  I didn’t think I saw lust in Senator Lightman, and when I took his hand and shook it, I confirmed it.  He was on the verge of peeing his pants.  I might have believed he wasn’t reacting with any lust because he really had eyes only for his wife, if he weren’t a politician.  But I’ve known very few male politicians to be faithful, and even they couldn’t avoid being lustful.  Senator Lightman was terrified of me because I was a Proxima and he was a Sapien-centric bigot.  Also, probably, because I was a supervillain and a killer and I could drop him dead in a second, turn him inside out, make the skin melt off his flesh or give him cancer, just from the touch of his hand in mine.  But I suspected I’d have gotten the same reaction if I’d been a member of the Peace Force, or even a Girl Scout with purple eyes and gold skin trying to sell him cookies.  He hated my kind, but he needed me today.

And I intended to use his need to my people’s advantage.

“Introduce me to your family, Senator,” I said.

I felt his adrenaline spike through the skin connection of our clasped hands, but he managed not to show it.  He let go of me.  “This is my wife, Dot, and our daughter Mindy.  She’s eight.”

I walked over to Mindy and knelt down in front of her, prompting more tension and white knuckles from her mother clasping her.  “Hello, Mindy,” I said.

“Hi,” she mumbled.

“Do you know who I am?”

“My daddy says you’re some kind of super doctor.”

Super doctor. I liked that.  “He’s right.  I’m here to help you.  I imagine you’ve gotten real tired of being sick.”

She smiled wanly.  “Yeah.”

“Let me have your hands.”

“Will it hurt?”  Her tone was tired and apathetic, as if it didn’t really matter if it was going to hurt or not.  I suspected it was more resignation than apathy.

“Not at all.”  I smiled at her.  “I’m a super doctor, remember?  It doesn’t hurt if I don’t want it to.”  

She gave me her small hands and I clasped them in mine.  I can’t entirely describe what I feel when I examine a living creature, not in terms that refer to the senses everyone else has.  It’s like feeling a symphony or hearing a tapestry.  Everything is very complex and interrelated, and I get signals from thousands of processes in the body, but it all melds together into a single big picture.  The big picture here was that Mindy’s body was attacking itself.  Her bone marrow was busily churning out cancerous white blood cells that didn’t work, filling her bloodstream with useless cells that crowded out and starved the working, useful ones.  The pain signals were overwhelming even with the drugs trying to mask them, and the drugs themselves were dulling her mind as much as the fatigue and weakness from the disease.

Like many terminally ill children, she was quiet and accepting, which is constantly mistaken in glurgy human interest stories about terminally ill children for bravery.  Children who go out with scarves on their bald heads and run lemonade stands to raise money to research and cure their own illnesses are brave.  Children who are too tired to feel fear and have been living with a disease too long to cry about it are just normal human beings.  Mindy was a normal human being, and her leukemia was also perfectly normal, something I’d dealt with a hundred times before.  

I closed my eyes so I could focus better on Mindy’s internal world.  First I triggered the release of endorphins into her bloodstream to mask any pain caused by what I was about to do.  The human body rebels against my power, seeing my authority as a violation of its autonomy, and frequently reacts by tattling to the brain about it in a way that the mind perceives as agonizing, but unspecific, pain.  As I told Mindy, though, no one feels pain in my hands unless I allow it.  As soon as her body was saturated with endorphins and I’d shut down most of the internal sensory trunk lines to the brain, making her internally numb while leaving her ability to sense anything touching her skin, I swept my concentration through her body and killed every immature white blood cell she had.  I then targeted the surviving mature white cells and forced them to rapidly replicate and mature, until she had almost a normal white blood cell count and they all worked correctly.

To finish off, I blocked the drugs that hadn’t been working so well anyway, turned the internal nerves back on, and filled Mindy with a combination of endorphin and oxytocin, and other hormones designed to make people feel good.  This particular cocktail wouldn’t have sexual effects – Mindy’s brain lacked some of the structures needed to process that, yet, and I always took great care with children not to do anything inappropriate to their age.  After what my own father did to me… well, I may be a supervillain, but I am not a child molester, and that makes me better than he was.  What I was going for – what I always gave the children I treated – can be best described, if you remember being a kid, as the excitement from knowing you’re about to go to an amusement park, coupled with the pleasure you get from eating ice cream, and all that combined with the warm snuggly feeling you get when you’re cuddled with your parents.  Mindy wouldn’t know why, in the future, she looked forward to my visits and felt very warm and positive emotions toward me.  She would just know that seeing Dr. Mystery would be the coolest thing ever, and just my presence would be more fun than any doctor’s office lollipop ever was.

Combine such warm and pleasant emotions with the freakish physical appearance of an obvious Proxima, and Mindy would not grow up to share her dad’s bigotry, even if he tried to teach it to her.

“Mindy?” Dot Lightman asked, her voice trembling slightly.  “Are you all right?”

Mindy lifted her head.  Her skin didn’t look any better, of course – I hadn’t done any cosmetic work – but her eyes were refocusing, turning bright and engaged.  “Mommy?  I feel good, Mommy.  I think the doctor fixed me!”

With my endorphin cocktail chasing away her fatigue temporarily, she leapt to her feet.  “Thank you, Super Doctor Mystery!  I feel all better!”  She twirled around, perhaps to prove to all of us that she was fully healed… and stumbled.  “Whoa, dizzy!”

“Slow up there, kiddo,” I said.  “You’re not cured.  You feel a lot better and you’re going to be a lot better, but you’ve spent a couple of years being sick and you’re not going to be back to your full strength overnight.  Take it easy.”

“Is she—is she going to be cured?” her mother asked, looking at me, her lower lip trembling.

“She’s much healthier, right now.  But no, as I said, I haven’t cured her yet.  I triggered a temporary remission and bolstered her immune system to compensate for what the disease did to it, so she needn’t suffer while she’s waiting for a full cure.”  I turned to Senator Lightman.  “To cure her, I’ll need to perform three treatments, about two months apart.  The cost will be $8,000 per treatment.  When we’re done, not only won’t she have leukemia, but the genetic potential for cancer will be purged from her system, so it will be very, very unlikely that she ever get any cancer-like disease again.  Short of living on top of a radioactive landfill, of course, but you understand what I mean.”

“Oh, God….” Mrs. Lightman started to cry.  “Oh, God, thank you…”

“Don’t cry, Mommy,” Mindy said, and gave her mom a hug.  “It’s good news. Don’t cry.”

“I’m crying because I’m so happy,” Mrs. Lightman said.

“I—I don’t know what to say, Doctor.  You have a deal.  I’d pay anything to save Mindy’s life, and your prices… well, they’re much more reasonable than I was led to assume.  I’d pay more than that for hospital treatments, even with the insurance.”  I was pretty sure this was a fib – Senators get damn good health insurance.  But of course Lightman belonged to the party that thought that health insurance was a privilege, not a right, and downplaying the high quality of his own state-sponsored insurance was probably a reflex by this point.  

I smiled at him.  “That’s because most of my payment is non-monetary.”

“Non-monetary?”

“Let’s go have a discussion, Senator.  I imagine you must have a private office in this house somewhere?”

His wife gave me a hard-eyed look. I returned her look with an “oh, please” expression, just the slightest of eye rolls and sardonic smile.  “There’s nothing you can say to me that you can’t say in front of my wife,” Lightman said, his voice hardening.

“Yes, there is,” I said, pleasantly.  “You want to tell her all about it when we’re done talking, that’s your prerogative.  But I am here to negotiate with a United States Senator, not a husband or a father.”

He stiffened.  “All right,” he said slowly.  “We can go downstairs to the den.”

“Is it—is it going to be all right?” Dot Lightman asked her husband.

“I don’t see that I have much choice, Dot,” he said.  “She’s the only hope Mindy has.  You know that.”

“Mommy? Can I play outside?”

“Sure.  Sure thing,” Dot said, her voice breaking again.  “I’ll play with you.”

“Don’t let her overexert herself,” I said.  “As I said, she’s better, not cured, and even if she were cured she’d still need time to recover her energy. She wants to run around and play now because she’s not in pain, but she actually still does need to save her strength.”

“We’ll go for a walk,” Dot said.  “How’s that sound, Mindy?”

“Sure, Mommy. We can do that.”

“The den is this way,” Senator Lightman said.

It was a typical suburban finished basement, not nearly as fancy looking as the living room, if you didn’t count the huge projection television.  I perched on the still-nice-but-obviously-worn couch, sitting on the back of it.  “Let’s get down to it, Senator,” I said.  “You’re a member of the Committee to Analyze Parahuman Activity.  You’re aware as well as I am that the United States government has been investigating or implementing various techniques to control or eliminate the Proxima population, including laws to create a registry for us as if we’re sex offenders, black ops soldiers with power suits to hunt us down, attempting to find cures for us like we’re a disease, secret databases being maintained in an attempt to identify us in the absence of a registry law… so on and so forth.”  I didn’t mention the biowarfare; people who didn’t live through being imprisoned in a government research facility and watching others being injected with various tailored viruses have a tendency to assume that government biowarfare is the stuff of paranoid conspiracy theories, and I doubted anyone had actually let Congress know what was going on there.  The others, I was pretty sure he’d been briefed on, if not actively involved with.  “And you’re an active supporter of the Human Definition Amendment, which would deprive us of any human rights whatsoever on the basis of junk science.”

The faintest beading of sweat broke out on his forehead.  “The United States government hasn’t taken any illegal actions to ‘control’ the Proxima population, as you put it, and certainly not to eliminate you.  You must understand, however, that we do have the right and the duty to protect normal humans from people like…”

He hesitated just a moment too long. “Me?”

“I was going to say, people like Caesar Primus or Optometron.  But if the rumors about your activities are true, then yes, you.  Weren’t you some sort of assassin?  An enforcer for a drug lord?”

While technically the description was almost true, the idea of describing David as a “drug lord” almost made me laugh.  Almost.  I don’t actually have a lot of a sense of humor when it comes to David.  “And I was rehabilitated by the Peace Force and today I’m a fine, upstanding citizen who cures little girls of leukemia,” I said.  

“That isn’t a lot of comfort to the families of the people you killed.”

“Maybe not.  But if I’d been killed by American soldiers in power suits then, your daughter would be out of luck now, wouldn’t she?”  I slid off the back of the couch and paced around him.  “And this isn’t about me.  How many people were saved when the Irregulars stopped that second plane from crashing into the Trade Towers?  When they held up the collapsing building so the firefighters could get out?  When the Peace Force shored up the levees in New Orleans after Hurricane Katrina so the city didn’t flood, or when Maui’s volcano went active and they shut it down again?”  The Senator didn’t actually need to know that was a plot of Professor Octohedron’s, if he didn’t already. The Peace Force hadn’t actually broadcast the fact that the disaster had been caused by a Proxima in the first place; I only knew about it because Octohedron continued to believe that he could get into my pants if only he could impress me enough, and he hadn’t actually ever managed to figure out that I wasn’t impressed by grandiose plots to take over the world by threatening to activate volcanoes.  “You might owe your life to a Proxima. You are about to owe your daughter’s life.  So I want your support for our basic human rights.  Oppose the Parahuman Registry, oppose the research to kill us or break us of our powers, and oppose the Human Definition Amendment.”

“The Human Definition Amendment isn’t designed to take away your human rights,” he said.  “It’s designed to clarify the rights you do have.  I mean, there have to be different ways to handle you people vs. the rest of us.  Remember when the ACLU sued on behalf of the Heat Miser?  They said that it was cruel and unusual punishment to keep him continuously drugged in prison. And as soon as they won and the drugs were withdrawn, his powers came back and he burned the prison down. 700 people were killed, over 100 guards and the rest of them human inmates, who’d been sentenced to serve time in jail for their crimes, not to burn to death.”

“Then you redefine cruel and unusual punishment to state that methods intended to block Proximas from using superhuman powers to escape from prison are not cruel and are perfectly usual.  Passing an amendment to the Constitution that declares that Proximas aren’t human is overkill.”

“It actually declares that humans belong to the subspecies Homo sapiens sapiens, and that the law should not be automatically extended to grant human rights to people who can destroy our entire planet with a thought just because some bleeding heart doesn’t think they deserve to go to jail for killing hundreds of people.”

“Yes, and by declaring that Homo sapiens promixus does not automatically count as human, it effectively says that we’re not, and we can be shot on sight with no one but the ASPCA to worry about our murders, let alone suffer discrimination in every part of our lives.  You do not live with the reality of what being defined as non-human means, Senator.  I do.”

“And you, Doctor, don’t live with the reality of inhabiting a world filled with creatures who can kill you with a thought, steal everything you own, destroy your home without even touching it, or make you believe that up is down and black is white.”  

I could argue that last point, if I wanted to be a smartass – I lived in the world where there was conservative talk radio, and it had convinced any number of people that up was down and black was white.  But that would be sidetracking.  “True.  But you’re so focused on perceiving yourself as a victim of the existence of Proximas that you’ve given no thought to what it would be like to be one of us. And you really should.  Because you have a child, Senator, and she is too young to be confirmed as Sapien or Proxima.  You don’t know what she is, and you’re just assuming she’s Sapien.  What if she’s Proxima?”

He blinked.  “Well, of course I—but she doesn’t have anything in her background – I mean neither her mother nor I have anything unusual, genetically—“

“No one knows what’s causing the sudden explosion in powered humans, Senator, but we do know that it’s some type of mutation.  90% of Proximas have parents who were Sapien.  And the number is that low only because some of us have started having kids.  If your daughter was a Proxima with two fully Sapien parents, she’d be in the same boat as most Proximas. Including me.  So you really need to think about it.”

“Well, I – I certainly wouldn’t treat Mindy any differently if she were – but if she were, you’d know, wouldn’t you?”

“I didn’t check for it.  But I could, yes.”

“Well, if she turned out to be, you could just fix it, right?  As part of the treatment?”

I stared at him as if I’d just found him on my shoe.  “Of course I could. And if she was black, I could make her white and blonde and blue-eyed. And I could change her into a boy if you decided you really wanted a son.  Have you any idea how offensive what you just said is?”

“I – I didn’t mean to give offense.  I just want Mindy to have a normal life.”

“Most Proximas do. I don't look like this all the time, Senator.  When I'm not treating hopeless cases, I live in a nice little townhouse, with two cats and a cockatiel.  I go dancing with men friends on weekends, I buy groceries, I do my laundry.  I choose to look like this when I'm treating people like your daughter, because I have no desire to be kidnapped and pressed into the service of crime lords or the government."

"Why would the government kidnap you?  Proximas have rights.  If you’ve served your time for your previous crimes, and committed no new ones--"

"--I would still have the power to make old men young, cure impotence and infertility, heal disease and scarring, change people's appearances... come on now, Senator, don't be naive.  If you had a way to make me heal your daughter without paying my price, you'd do it.  And I think you're basically a good man, who’s concerned for the child he loves.  Can you say none of your colleagues would want me to heal them?  To restore lost youth, or whatever they had lost?"  I thought of the white room then, the snipers with guns outside ready to blow my head off if the important old men screaming under my hands didn’t get up and walk free completely healed when I was done. Never again.  

"I... suppose power corrupts.  There are some bad elements in any system, but that doesn't mean the system is evil."

"I didn’t say the system was evil.  I said it’s not designed to protect people like me.  And if you and your fellows have their way, it’ll be even harder for me to live a normal, safe life.”  I shook my head.  "We're sidetracking.  If Mindy turns out to be a Proxima, she could still have an entirely normal and happy life, so long as you didn't reject her for it and the government didn't kill her for it."

"I would never reject Mindy.  No matter what.  If-- if she was a parahuman--"

"Then your opinions on appropriate treatment of Proximas would be rather different, wouldn't they?"

He sighed.  “Look, I have a constituency, Doctor Mystery.  They elected me into office to protect them and serve them, and they have ideas as to what constitutes doing that.  If I do something that they don’t approve of, I won’t have the power they’ve given me for very long.”

I flopped down on his couch again.  “Oh, baloney.  You mean that if you can’t fearmonger about hidden Proximas living among us and the draconian measures the Daddy State will take under your watch to protect the poor scared soccer moms and NASCAR dads, you can’t get elected.”  I sat up and leaned forward.  “It’s all bullshit. The tide of history always favors greater human rights, greater freedoms, greater protections for minorities vs. mobs.  And it always works out better in the end that way.  I understand that you have to protect yourself from lunatics who shoot death rays out of their elbows, but you know, you also have to protect yourself from lunatics who break into the McDonalds’ with a gun and start shooting people, and somehow it was your party who decided it was an unacceptable infringement on your freedom to hunt, shoot intruders, and generally feel like manly men to make people undergo background checks to get assault weapons.”

“The Constitution guarantees the right to bear arms.”

“The Constitution wouldn’t say that if you passed an amendment redefining a ‘well-regulated militia’ as the National Guard.  Which I’m not saying you should.  I’m in favor of your right to protect yourself with a gun. I’m in favor of your right to shoot animals for fun if you feel like it; I’m a Darwinist and you’re a predator.  It’s in your genes.  Go shoot deer if you want.  But the Constitution currently states that I am a human being, because it doesn’t say that I’m not, and I was born in the United States to two human beings, share 99.9% of my DNA with you, speak your language, look like you, and have sex with you.  Well, not you personally, but Sapiens men.  So if it’s so vitally important to preserve the right to bear arms, because it’s in the Constitution, that it’s okay to let sociopaths get guns and shoot up college campuses, then it is vastly more important to make sure that every child born in this country to human parents is defined as human.  

“If you pass this Definition of Humanity amendment in order to protect your constituency, and Mindy turns out to be a Proxima, then she can be raped and her rapist could be charged with bestiality at best, because she wouldn’t be legally a child who can be molested, she’d be legally an animal. She could be killed, and the most her killer could be charged with is animal cruelty. No school would have to take her, no hospital would have to treat her diseases, no restaurant would have to let her in to eat with you.  You would have to fight a battle to get her treated in a way that you humans take for granted, every time.  Want her to die in a car accident because the paramedics didn’t want to treat a Proxima?  Want her to die in a fire because the firefighters didn’t want to risk themselves going into a burning building for someone who isn’t even human?  There are better ways to defend Sapiens than making it legally open season on us.”

“But you’re against those too. The Parahuman Registry would allow us to track dangerous people without having to deprive any of you of basic civil rights.”

“Except I’ve never heard of a version of it suggesting that only parahuman criminals be added to the registry.”

“Well, dangerous parahumans haven’t necessarily committed crimes yet.  But for instance, if your next door neighbor turns up dead of a heart attack and everyone knows you were fighting with him, isn’t it important that the police know you have the power to stop people’s hearts by touching them?”

“If your next door neighbor has a gun, isn’t it important that you know about it so you can keep your daughter from playing in his yard?”

“Most gun owners are law abiding citizens, and if someone is killed with a gun we already have laws on the books to help the police track down the killer.  If someone is killed with a superpower, we wouldn’t even necessarily know to look for a superpower.”

“So educate the cops better on superpowers.  Most Proximas are law abiding citizens.  If you kill your neighbor by hitting him over the head with a frying pan, does that mean you needed to be on some sort of registry of frying pan owners?”  I started pacing again.  “It’s irrelevant in any case.  I don’t care what your personal beliefs are.  I care that you love your daughter and want her to be healthy.”

“So you’re blackmailing me.”

“Blackmail?  I’m demanding payment.  When your campaign contributors give you money for re-election, they’re not blackmailing you to expect that you’re going to show them some quid pro quo. I’m offering you something far, far more valuable than a few dollars in your re-election coffers; I’m offering you your daughter’s life and health.  I think expecting a little quid pro quo is not unreasonable.”

“And what if I refused?  Would you let her die?”

At one point that would have been a tough one; in this line of work you have to appear to be compassionate, but you also have to be tough or the patients will walk all over you.  I had had plenty of experience dealing with this particular conundrum, though.  “Do you know what I did for Mindy today?  Do you understand her disease at all?”

“I don’t know what you did, no. You keep saying you made her better but you didn’t cure her.  But I do know something about her disease.  The doctors tell me that she’s making too many white blood cells, and it’s crowding out and killing the rest of her blood.”

“Close.  They’re immature, cancerous blood cells, so they don’t work to protect her from disease the way mature white blood cells would.  This lowers her general immunity, and yes, it clogs up her bloodstream and takes resource away from working cells.  What I did today was to kill all the immature cells and regenerate some of the mature ones.  She still has leukemia; she’s still making too many immature cells.  Without a full treatment that will never stop.  What I’ve done is to ease her symptoms.  Until she builds up too many immature cells again, she’ll feel better.”  I leaned on the wall, arms folded.  “I’m perfectly capable of doing this every six months and never actually curing her.  She’ll feel better, and she’ll have a happy, normal life, as long as she gets her treatments on time.  The one time she misses a treatment, though – maybe because the government kidnapped me, arrested me, killed me or took my powers away – she’ll have full-blown leukemia again, and within a year or two she’ll die.”  I pushed off the wall.  “So you can support me up front because it’s the right thing to do for the person who gave you back your daughter’s life, or you can hedge and haw and refuse to get with my program, and if so your daughter will be well for exactly as long as I am able to continue treating her.  The very laws you want to pass that will harm me, will block my ability to heal her sooner or later, and then she’ll die, and it’ll be your fault.”

“And how do I know that if I promise to do as you ask, you really will heal Mindy and you won’t just do what you just said?”

“How do I know that if I really heal Mindy, you won’t go back on your word and start pushing for the Human Definition Amendment again?  It’s a matter of trust, Senator.  You trust me, I trust you.  Or you don’t trust me, I don’t trust you.  Tit for tat.  What’s it going to be?”

He took a deep breath.  “I’m not going to just rubber stamp your suggestions.  Even if that was the right thing to do for my constituency, and it’s not.  I’m going to study the situation and try to do the best thing to protect my people and yours.  You can accept that or not.”

“All right, I’ll accept that, with one caveat.  The Human Definition Amendment is totally off-limits.  You can switch your support to the Inclusive Humanity Amendment, or just drop your support of Human Definition, but if you don’t publicly do one or the other within the month Mindy does not get fully cured.  The other stuff, do the studies you want to do, but I think you’ll find that when you look at Proximas as if we are people and not weird animal things with superpowers, you’ll find it a lot easier to come up with ways to help protect your kind without harming mine.”

Lightman nodded.  “All right, Doctor.  Then we have a deal.  When do you want to perform the first treatment?”

“If you’ve got $8,000 lying around in a checking account, we can do it today.”

“I do.  Who do I make the check out to?  I don’t imagine you can cash a check made out to Doctor Mystery.”

“Make it out to Miracle of Life, LLC.”  I had about twenty-seven of these shell companies I used to funnel my various payments through, since even Senators typically had a hard time coming up with $8,000 in small unmarked bills on short notice, and a girl’s gotta eat.  Playing politics is all well and good, but I needed to cover the mortgage and the gas money for my various trips to clients, plus the funds for my various Activities of Mad Science.  Just because you can manipulate any organic tissue with a touch, doesn’t mean you get your beakers and retorts and Petri dishes for free.  “Let’s go upstairs.  I’m sure Mindy is eager to begin freeing herself from this disease.”

“Of course.”

At the top of the stairs, I reached out for his hand.  Too afraid of giving offense to refuse me, he took it, and I shook with him.  “Pleasure doing business with you, Senator.  Go call your daughter in, give me a check and we’ll do this thing.”

“Thank you, Dr. Mystery.  I may not entirely approve of your politics, but thank you for giving my daughter back her life.”

He wouldn’t be thanking me so much if he had known I’d just planted a tiny clump of slow-growing cancerous cells deep in his brain.  It’d be a year from now before he started feeling any symptoms, and that would land in the middle of his re-election campaign.  If he did what I wanted after I finished healing his daughter and we were on good terms, I’d find some excuse to come by and heal him or prune it down again.  If not… there was a reason I was a feared supervillain even though most people knew me, if they knew me at all, as some kind of uber-doctor.  You didn’t double-cross Dr. Mystery and survive it.  Ever.

Well, unless you were Dr. Suryabati Chandrasekhar.  Then you got any number of free passes.

***

The truth was, I was being something of a hypocrite.

I was offended at Lightman’s suggestion that I make his daughter a Sapiens if she turned out to be a Proxima, but not for the reason I told him.  The difference between a Proxima becoming a Sapien and a Sapien becoming Proxima isn’t the difference between black changing to white or male changing to female.  The difference was described by Plato as a man raised in the darkness leaving the cave to see the light of the sun, vs. a man raised in the sunlight doomed to spend the rest of his life in a cave.  Making a Proxima a Sapiens is like giving someone a lobotomy, or a clitoridectomy, or binding her feet until she can’t walk.  It’s an obscenity, a Harrison Bergeron nightmare of breaking the best down to the level of the mediocre, taking away a birthright one was born with.  

Making a Sapien a Proxima is, on the other hand, one of my great callings in life.

Mindy Lightman wasn’t a Proxima before I touched her.  But she would be, before I was done.  I did a preliminary assessment of her DNA while I was performing the first treatment, and I stored a small amount of her cellular matter in a pocket under the skin of my hand, to study at length later. I’d determine how much energy her mitochondria could supply her and which latent powers-complex genes she had, and which powers they were likely to ignite into.  If she had something distressing, like death touch or world-shattering TK or the gene for turning blue, I’d edit the complex over the next two sessions into something more palatable for the child of a public figure, something frilly and unthreatening.  Maybe the ability to make pretty light shows, or fly.  Most flyers loved it, and it didn’t seem to frighten Sapiens as much as some other powers did.

When I left the Lightmans’, now back in my middle-aged lady persona, I headed first to the bank to deposit the check.  Senators whose daughter’s lives are on the line don’t give me checks that bounce, but they do take time to clear, so the sooner I got it in, the better.  And then I dumped the rental car at the airport, changed form in the bathroom, and got on the Metro to head back home.

****

Science fact: There is only one gene that determines the difference between a Sapiens and a Proxima.

To most people this seems insane.  Proximas come in an entire extra range of colors besides the human norm, have powers ordinary humans can only dream of, and get energy to fuel these powers from a source that is frankly incomprehensible.  We just have to be a separate species, in most people’s minds.  When Proximas were first discovered, there was a huge push to label us a fully separate species – Homo superior (thankfully, that one got shot down real fast) or Homo proximus, “the man who comes next.”  Scientists – not me at the time, since I was too young, but reputable geneticists and biologists – had to constantly point out that the definition of a species is that they cannot viably interbreed.  The children of superpowered and ordinary humans were themselves perfectly fertile. Ergo, we cannot be a separate species.

But we hadn’t mapped the genome then, and we didn’t know exactly why Proximas had powers.  So scientists made, in my opinion, a mistake.  They agreed to classify us as a separate sub-species.

You’ve grown up being told that you are Homo sapiens.  What you might not know is that technically, if you’re not a parahuman, you are actually Homo sapiens sapiens.  There were several other subspecies of humans, all extinct, such as Homo sapiens idaltu (elderly wise man).  It is still scientific nonsense to call us a subspecies, when we’re only different by one gene – to put this in perspective, parents and children differ by many, many more than one gene – and in fact the International Commission on Zoological Nomenclature keeps debating changing it to Homo sapiens sapiens proximus or dropping the designate proximus entirely. But the scientific evidence that we aren’t even a separate subspecies gets even less play in the media than studies that show that men and women are alike, if such a thing is possible.  And at least the Homo sapiens proximus nomenclature reinforces that we are of the human species.

The trouble is, most people don’t know that the true name of Homo sapiens is actually Homo sapiens sapiens.  So when they hear the short designators – Sapiens vs. Proxima – they assume that our species is Homo proximus.  We’re widely believed to be an entirely separate species, and it doesn’t help that high-profile supervillains like Caesar Primus (who is 2,000 years old and knows as much as any Roman gladiator about science, which is to say, diddly jack), or Professor Octohedron (a brilliant physicist and inventor, but he knows about as much biology as I know about fixing my car, and let me put it this way, the last time I ended up dead on the side of the road I needed a friendly dude passing by to tell me I’d run out of oil) are constantly spouting off about how we are a new, superior species.  Informed laypeople and doctors usually know better, but the truth – that we are different by only one gene – is so appallingly counterintuitive that you almost need to be a geneticist or an evolutionary biologist to get it.

But here’s the truth.

The human genome is packed with genes that don’t do anything.  Most come from our evolutionary history. You may have heard that we are less than 1% genetically different from chimpanzees.  That 1% consists mostly of control genes, which govern when, how and if the other genes turn on.

It turns out that some of those genes generate superpowers, under the right conditions.  One of them turns melanin, the brown pigment of humans, blue in the presence of a hormone called catalysine.  Others use catalysine to activate superhuman abilities.  All humans carry some of these genes.  But only a very, very tiny number – about 1 in 10,000 – have the gene that codes for the creation of catalysine.

Like testosterone, catalysine has two surges in a person’s life cycle.  One is pre-natally.  The amount generated is small and doesn’t pass the placental barrier, so no, pregnant women do not manifest superpowers when carrying a Proxima baby.  That’s an urban myth.  The surge pre-natally does little, usually, except to prepare the brain to control superpowers someday, creating a brain nucleus and appropriate wiring.  In cases where the child has two Proxima genes – for example, the child of two Proxima parents-- the amount of catalysine created pre-natally might be enough to distort the child’s appearance, begin converting melanin into azurin, or awaken a low level of superpower.

When the child hits puberty, the same genes that turn on sex hormones turn on catalysine production.  The superpowers appear, and wire up to the brain structures created in utero.  If the child has the gene for azurin conversion, their pigment changes from brown to blue – so pale red-haired and blonde white children suddenly develop purple, green or blue hair, while brown-skinned children turn blue all over.  (Azurin is also rare.  Only about 5% of all people carry the gene for azurin production, and only Proximas ever display it.  Non-Proximas with the azurin mutation never express it, and end up creating perfectly normal melanin, because they are never exposed to catalysine.)

The “power mitochondria” are another pan-human phenomenon that only expresses itself in Proximas.  All living cells on Earth contain tiny organelles called mitochondria – practically separate living things, with their own DNA, they use oxygen and sugar to generate the chemical that powers all life, ATP.  Power mitochondria vastly overproduce ATP, and no one knows where they get the energy to do it – it’s like they suck potential energy out of the universe and convert it to life force.  But they do this only when activated by catalysine within the cell.  About 1/3rd of humans have power mitochondria.  In the presence of the Proxima gene, these people generate energy above and beyond what they take in from food and air, which is then consumed by their superpowers.  Without power mitochondria, a Proxima must draw from their own life force to fuel their superpower, which makes their powers pretty weak.  The exact same genes for telekinesis can code for a person that can lift 70 lbs with their mind with effort vs. a person who can lift an aircraft carrier out of the water and break it in half, depending on the presence and output of the power mitochondria.  Since mitochondria are passed by the mother, Proximas who inherit their power from a powerful mother will always be very powerful themselves, whereas Proximas who inherit from a powerful Proxima father depend entirely on the hidden status of their mother for their own strength.  

(Funny fact, here: when Proximas were first discovered, male Proximas freely dated, married and fathered children on human women, because our entire society says it’s okay for men to have wives who are weaker than they are. Proxima women, on the other hand, mostly stuck to their own kind.  In the seven years since we discovered the role of the power mitochondria, we have seen a dramatic reversal in which powerful Proxima men will not marry or get serious with human women unless they consider themselves “childfree” or have had the human woman’s mitochondria analyzed for power status, and more and more Proxima women are dating Sapiens men.)

So most of what goes into making a Proxima is actually in a vast percentage of the human population – 30% have power mitochondria, pretty much all of them have powers-complex.  It’s the presence of the single gene that codes for catalysine production that makes a person Proxima as opposed to Sapiens.  My belief was that Proximas would not be safe from the fear and envy of Sapiens unless we were normalized.  The more Proximas there were, the more the law would adapt to and accommodate us and our needs and the less we’d need to fear the mob of Sapiens out to kill or control us.  So my primary work, since I became Dr. Mystery, had been to increase the number of Proximas by giving as many Sapiens the Proxima gene as I can.

In my early experiments, when I used uncontrolled methods like retroviruses to mutate people, there were high casualty rates.  Sapiens adults whose brains have not been exposed to catalysine in utero can’t control whatever superpowers they develop if they suddenly start making catalysine.  So I started working primarily with children, usually terminally or chronically ill children that I could get direct access to.  My power can create new brain pathways, and in a child or teen, with a developing brain, I can do it transparently, with no one noticing.  Adults cannot experience sudden brain growth and change without noticing that something’s wrong – memories suddenly becoming lost, well-developed skills becoming weaker, mood swings, etc—so I only alter adults into Proximas if they request it.  I often modify women of child-bearing age so that all their eggs carry the Proxima gene, ensuring that they’ll give birth to Proximas if they ever have kids.  It’s harder with men, because men are generating new sperm all the time – I’d have to alter the spermatogonia, and since they’re part of the body, the body’s immune system might notice that they are genetically different from the other cells and attack them, making the man infertile.  So I only make men into Proxima-fathers if I have plenty of time to work with them and tweak their immune systems, if necessary – and if they’re likely to have kids.  Gay men coming to me to save them from AIDS and 70-year-olds who don’t want to get Alzheimer’s are usually not worth modifying reproductively.  

The Peace Force were aware of my work, and opposed it.  They believed it was wrong of me to change people’s genes without their consent.  Technically, maybe they were right, but come on, what sane person would object to having superpowers?  The only reason anyone would not want to be a Proxima is the prejudice against us, and I was working on that too.  So I had to maintain a low profile because every so often the Peace Force would take it into their heads to try to capture me.  I’m pretty sure this wasn’t fully legal – I was pardoned for my activities as Megamorph by Bill Clinton (did you know that Hillary Clinton once had breast cancer? No?  Well, neither does anyone else), and nothing illegal I’d done as Dr. Mystery could be proven in a court of law.  But the law hadn’t caught up with Proxima abilities, so the Peace Force never overly concerned themselves with whether they could prove wrongdoing or not.  Their mentor and leader, Dr. Suryabati Chandrasekhar, aka Doctor Sun, was a telepath, and if she said, “Bad guy! Go fetch!” they would jump like puppydogs after a thrown stick.

So I lived in Baltimore, in a townhome in the Woodberry neighborhood, on Television Hill, because living directly under the broadcast tower generated enough interference that Suri couldn’t find me telepathically.  I’d have preferred Little Italy, or better yet, a real city like New York or Philly (and I’d come way down in the world, admitting that Philly is a real city), but New York was far too close to Suri, whose base of operations was in Manhattan, and a lot of my work was done with politicians, making Baltimore or DC more convenient than Philly.  And DC had the Special Service, human police in power suits who patrolled to protect the Capitol from parahuman attack.  I never felt safe in DC.  My Woodberry home had civilians living on both sides and a children’s day care across the street, ensuring that the Peace Force couldn’t attack me in force – they’d know the threat to civilians from a power battle would be too great to risk it politically for my sake (and to be fair, most of them are goody-two-shoes hero types who wouldn’t risk civilians, especially preschool children, even if they had perfect political cover for the operation.)  So I figured that if Suri ever found me, she’d still think twice about siccing her dogs on me.

Also, the Light Rail, Baltimore’s sad and pathetic substitute for a subway, had a stop near my home.  I didn’t learn to drive until I was 28, and I still hated it with a passion.  I was a Brooklyn girl – give me a city with buses and subways and railways, so I wouldn’t have to dodge hurtling chunks of death metal just to get where I was going.  From DC’s Metro, after I dropped my rental car at the airport, I changed at Union Station to the Camden line, took it to the baseball stadium in Baltimore, and changed there for the Light Rail.  This took far longer than a car would have, but didn’t involve me being isolated in a tiny box with no source of living organic matter other than my own flesh and facing careening metal boxes coming right for me.  It also didn’t involve traffic jams, which are brutal on the DC Beltway.  A short walk from my stop later, and I was home.

As I unlocked my front door, Brian the cockatiel chirped at me wildly, flapping his wings in his cage.  I’m really proud of Brian – in some ways he’s my greatest work.  He used to be a man, or the head of a man, who attempted to rape me once.  The truly pathetic thing was that Brian had been a good-looking guy, wiry and blond, the way I like them, and if he’d been willing to wait half an hour I would happily have had sex with him.  But he hadn’t wanted sex, he’d wanted rape – the only reason he dated women and went back to their houses with them, rather than jumping out of the bushes with a knife, was that he was a lawyer and knew that a handsome man with money who date rapes a woman will basically never, ever be convicted.  People think rapists have to be hard up for sex, or have to somehow look evil – the idea that a handsome, charming guy who could get any woman he wanted would actually prefer to hold screaming women down and force them when he could get consensual sex with the exact same woman instead breaks people’s brains.  They assume the woman must be lying, because what man who could get mutual fun would prefer to commit rape?  No one wants to admit how common misogynistic sadists actually are or how normal they look.

I found out from Brian that he’d date-raped ten women before me, that only two had tried to press charges, and the cops had refused to take the charges in one case and upset the other one so badly with their disbelief that she’d dropped the charges.  I found this out while I had him paralyzed but still able to feel sensation, his voice made too hoarse to do more than whisper no matter how much he suffered, on a cot in the basement.  Over the course of the two weeks that I used him in experiments, he told me his entire life story, amidst lots of self-justifications, begging, pleading and promising to change his ways.  Then I started turning his body parts into animals, bit by bit.  The rats and mice I made of his arms and legs didn’t come out right, and they died.  The cockroaches who used to be his testicles were actually very robust, but after the cat knocked over the terrarium I was keeping them in, I had to get an exterminator to kill them because who wants cockroaches in their house?  I was actually quite sad when the puppy I made out of his guts wouldn’t wake up and live – sometimes they just won’t come alive no matter what I do.  Living things are very complex, and it’s more an art than a science to do things like make life into different life.  

Since at that point, Brian had no way to digest food or ingest water, and he was therefore only a day or two away from death, I finally put him out of his misery by turning his head into a cockatiel and his torso into an iguana, a gecko, and a handful of tropical fish.  Nothing lived longer than a week except the cockatiel, which so far had lasted three years.  I often wondered, since I’d used some of the original brain tissue in making Brian’s new cockatiel brain, if he had any dim sense that he used to be human.

I fed Brian a cracker, re-absorbed my shoes into my flesh, and took back my original human form before plopping down on the couch to relax and await my cats.  My actual body was permanently frozen at about age 22 or so; I changed it so often, I’d never really had the opportunity to let it naturally age.  I could have forced it up to 36, where I really was, if I had to, but why bother?  No one was going to see me and think less of me for looking too childish.  My natural form is about 5’4” and built like a gymnast – tiny breasts, thickly muscled legs and arms, a rounded and balanced body with a low center of gravity and nothing sticking way out of line with the rest of it.  For gymnastics – my childhood passion – and for combat, it was a fantastic body, and I used it for years as Megamorph before it occurred to me that maybe I should hide my true face if I was going to be a criminal.  For instantly commanding respect, making men drool and women envy, or sending the signal “I AM A SERIOUS CRIMINAL MASTERMIND”, it wasn’t so good.  It was short, the face looked too young and soft (and too much like a young, soft Gillian Anderson – people in med school actually used to call me “Scully”), and a body perfectly proportioned for gymnastics or martial arts isn’t all that attractive by the psycho standards of our culture.  But it was my body, and in my home, with the shades drawn and the security system on, I went back to it because it was me.  

As I wiggled my toes on my shag carpet and then propped my feet up on my coffee table, I wondered where my cats were.  They were well-fed cats, but their heightened metabolisms made them constantly hungry, and they knew I was a sucker for giving them treats when I’d first come home.  Normally, they’d be leaping on me minutes after my arrival.  This worried me.  If I had accidentally shut them in the bedroom, Angelkitty would probably pee on my ceiling to express her displeasure and Pikachu might have destroyed my furniture with a few good lightning blasts by now.  

My cats were also experiments.  I’d been curious to see if the genetic structures I’d observed in other mammals that seemed related to the human powers-complex were in fact superpowers, so I got myself a pair of abandoned newborn kittens and in between the droppers of kitten formula (I really drew the line at making cat milk in my own breasts; those little things have teeth very early), I modified them to generate catalysine.  The female promptly grew bird wings (which didn’t attach to the right spot on her back and were too small; she’d never have flown if I hadn’t heavily modified them for her), and the male developed the ability to shoot lightning out of his paws, so I named them Angelkitty and Pikachu.  (Technically, if you have seen the Pokemon cartoon, which I admit I have, Pikachu is a mouse that shoots electricity, or something rodentlike anyway, but come on, there aren’t exactly any mythological figures of cats that shoot electricity.)  Angelkitty’s a Siamese and Pikachu is mostly white with some orange. They don’t have power mitochondria – that does appear to be a human thing – so they eat like pigs.  I could feed six ordinary cats off what my two eat, but they remain extraordinarily svelte, almost feral in their slimness.  And so if they weren’t here to pester me for fish treats, something was wrong.

I got up and went out to the kitchen.  To my relief, my cats were still noshing on their tuna fish, which amazingly it looked like they had barely touched before I came home.  (I always fed them human food.  Why not?  I had the money to keep them in canned tuna rather than cat food, and they loved the stuff.)  Pikachu looked up at me, gave me a meow that I interpreted as “Oh, you’re home, good,” and then went back to his meal.

Wait a minute.  There was more food in the bowl than there had been when I said good-bye to them this morning.  And it was beyond the realm of possibility that they’d left so much food untouched for so long, anyway.  And the tuna looked fresh out of the can.  So how—

“I was wondering when you were going to get home,” a woman’s voice said behind me.  I was already spinning to face her, preparing to leap at her, but as soon as I saw her I realized it was hopeless.  “Don’t you ever feed these cats?  They look like they’re starving.”

Ciana Kim, aka Sapphire, my once-classmate and current dire nemesis, was standing – well, floating—above my stairs in her traditional blue bubble, her features slightly obscured by the blue distortion and concealed behind her mask.  The combat leader of the Peace Force was in my house.

I backed up.  I couldn’t take Sapphire directly.  Her power was to generate spherical or toroid magnetic fields, which glowed blue due to the way they bent light, hence her name.  I needed organic channels to send my power through—behind her force field, Sapphire was totally safe from me, because I couldn’t touch her.  I wasn’t safe from her, though.  She could generate a force field around me, trapping me, any time she wanted.  

There was a switch by the door to my basement, labeled “FURNACE – DO NOT TOUCH,” that would actually activate an EMP.  All the computer and electronic equipment I had in my house outside the Faraday cage of the basement would fry, but Sapphire’s power would fail as well, and I could leap on her before she could reset her power.  Or, if I didn’t really want to replace my MP3 player, phones, and the laptop in the bedroom, perhaps I could grab Pikachu and throw him at her.  He’d be startled enough to discharge a bolt, and the electrical surge should pop her field like a soap bubble.  I knew I had a faster reaction time than Sapphire – after years of modifying and tuning up my nervous system, I’m faster than anyone who doesn’t have super-speed as a specific power – so I should be able to grab her and neutralize her power or knock her out before she could get a force field back up again.  I was reluctant to do that because Pikachu was my kitty and throwing him at superheroes seemed kind of mean, even though I knew he wouldn’t be hurt, but the EMP generator could theoretically blow out TV Hill, and then I’d have to dodge swarms of reporters trying to find out why they suddenly couldn’t get on the air anymore.  

I stalled for time.  “They’ve got very fast metabolisms.  I feed them all the time, but they’ll pester anyone they meet for more.”

Sapphire rolled her eyes.  “Oh, stand down, Meg. If I was here to capture you or beat you up, I’d have done it before you knew I was here.”

She had a point. Sapphire wasn’t stupid, and she had completely gotten the drop on me, to the point that I was actually really embarrassed about it.  “So what do you want?  Cooking advice?  I always prefer to replace the generic vegetable oil with olive or canola, it’s easier on the heart.”  The last time I’d been in the same household as her, Ciana Kim had refused to learn to cook, for very similar reasons to her refusal to learn hand-to-hand combat.  

She ignored my jab. “Doctor Sun sent me.  She needs your help and she asked me to ask you.”

I blinked.  Doctor Sun wanted my help?  Cold day in hell.  But it’d have to get a lot colder before I’d say yes.  “She wants my help?  And she actually thinks I might agree?  Excuse me, but the last time I interacted with any of you people you wrecked my lab, ruined four years of work and set me back half a million dollars.”

“You were infecting children’s vaccines with a retrovirus.  Did you seriously think we’d let you just get away with it?”

“All it would have done was make them into Proximas.  What do you think I am?”

“Someone who mutates people against their will.  And how do you know that’s all it would have done?  Retroviruses mutate. Besides, it’s still wrong to change people without their consent.  How do you know those kids would even have wanted superpowers?”

“Oh, be real.  Who wouldn’t want superpowers?”

“If I wasn’t a Proxima, I might have been an Olympic gold medalist.”

She was telling the truth.  One of the things that annoyed me so much about Ciana was how close her life had been to mine, minus the dysfunctional family.  I, too, had had Olympic dreams once, and my coach had told me when I was 11 that I might seriously make it as a contender.  But no matter how good I’d been, I’d never really had a chance; if my parents hadn’t died when I was 13, some other aspect of my family’s screwed-up-ness would have ruined it for me.

Ciana Kim, however, had had a good and loving family who’d pushed her hard in the belief that she could achieve anything.  She was a third-generation Korean American from California and her parents were doctors or something like that, and they’d stood behind her every step of the way.  Even after everything had fallen apart in my life and I’d basically become a thug for hire, I had followed the Olympic gymnastic news, so I’d known all about this as it was happening.  

Ciana was originally to be the USA’s representative to the Olympics in Seoul for women’s artistic gymnastics.  Much was made in the media of a Korean American going to Seoul to represent America, but Ciana had been very photogenic and full of great soundbites about how she was as American as apple pie and she was honored to represent our great country and she was so looking forward to bringing a medal home for the US and she was following in Mary Lou Retton’s footsteps and blah blah blah.  And then, a week before the Olympics, it had come out that she was a Proxima.  They’d finally figured out that doing a blood test for catalysine would find any Proxima with an active power.

The truth is that even now, twenty years later, as an experienced superhero who uses her powers all the time, Ciana still can’t use her powers invisibly.  There’s always a shiny blue blob there. And she had no training with her powers when she was 16, so it would have been even more implausible that she could have somehow used her powers to secretly cheat.  I would be disqualified from a Sapiens competition in gymnastics in any sane world because of what my powers actually are, but Ciana was disqualified solely from anti-Proxima prejudice (and, to be fair, probably some anti-Asian prejudice from the Americans whose job it would have been to advocate for her).  The Americans paid for their prejudices when Eastern Europe and the Soviet Union took home all the women’s gymnastics medals (I don’t like Ciana, but I’m pretty sure she would have won at least a silver in something, if not a gold.) Ciana was recruited by Dr. Chandrasekhar to learn how to use her powers and eventually join the Peace Force, Dr. Chandrasekhar’s UN-supported superhero team.

So it wasn’t that I had no respect for Ciana’s loss, but it irritated me that she saw the problem as being that she was a Proxima rather than that the Olympic committee was scared of Proximas.  And also, that being an Olympic medalist was better than being a superhero.  “Yeah yeah, you could have had your moment of glory, and nowadays you’d be selling sneakers and breakfast cereal to pay the bills, assuming anyone even remembered you at all.  What’s Mary Lou Retton doing with her life?”

“She’s been an Olympics commentator, and she’s a motivational speaker who supports physical fitness.”

Trust Ciana to actually know this.  “And that’s better than being a superhero how?  You save lives, you have an action figure, millions of little girls look up to you—“

“—I wear a mask when I save lives because otherwise supervillains or stalkers might hunt me down, no one knows my real name, my family aren’t allowed to tell anyone what I do for a living, I’ll probably never have a normal life with a husband and kids—“

“--You could marry some guy and quit the superhero business any time you wanted to, it’s just your overblown sense of responsibility that says you can’t quit your job to have babies until your powers give out on you, because you think the world needs you, and if that’s the case where would they have been if you hadn’t been a Proxima?”

“Someone else would have taken my place if I hadn’t been a Proxima.  And all of this is besides the point; no matter how great you or even I might think it is to have superpowers, the fact is that you were planning to infect helpless babies with a retrovirus that would have mutated them.  Some of them might have died of it.  Some might have been killed by their families for being Proximas once they manifested.  You don’t have the right to play God that way.”

“Nobody would have died of my virus,” I retorted.  “I tested it thoroughly ahead of time.  But you also notice, I haven’t done it again.”

“Because you know we’ll stop you.”

“Because I listened to your arguments that retroviruses are unstable and highly prone to mutation, and I decided that maybe you have a point.”

“Then why did you bring it up?”

“You didn’t even try to just persuade me.  You just blew up my lab!  Do you know how many vials of vaccine I hadn’t modified yet you destroyed?”

“All of this is pointless,” Sapphire snapped.  “I’m wasting time arguing with you when Doctor Sun is dying.  Are you coming or not?”

Wait, what?  Dying?  

I had been a half-crazed killer with no self-esteem, no sense of myself being able to be or do anything good, no belief that anyone could ever care about me – at least not without dying for it – after David died.  Dr. Chandrasekhar had taken me in and taught me that I could have a better destiny than being a tool for monsters to use to kill each other with; that I didn’t have to be a monster myself.  I could use my powers for good.  I could help people.  I could be a decent person.

Viewed from her perspective, I suppose, it didn’t last – I freely admit I am a supervillain and I do highly unethical things, up to and including killing people.  But I do it for a cause I believe in.  I do it to save my people from the bio-engineered diseases I was forced to participate in creating at Sonnebend.  I do it so girls with superpowers who are going to medical school to learn how to save lives will not be kidnapped, stripped of their powers except when convenient for their captors, raped, tortured and forced to use their powers to heal enemies and kill their own kind, by agents of their own government.  I do it so my people can enjoy the same rights and privileges as every other human on this planet.  And the fact that I can fight for a cause, that I can see myself as a person with a noble goal of my own… I owe that entirely to Doctor Sun.

No matter what she does to me, no matter what she orders her Peace Force to do, I can’t ever get away from that.

“Dying of what?”

“She was kidnapped and raped by Caesar Primus.  When she escaped, she was two months’ pregnant, but the doctors say it seems more like six months.  The child is growing too rapidly for her to handle it, and it’ll kill her.”

Oh, God.  

My heart started pounding, my throat went dry.  I could feel the adrenaline surging, my sympathetic nervous system revving up for a totally inappropriate fight-or-flight response.  I couldn’t stop imagining the reality behind Sapphire’s words.  It didn’t help that I’d once had sex with Primus myself – consensual, sort of, but I could entirely too easily imagine what it’d be like to be raped by him, without powers to protect you.  And Primus was immune to telepathy, so effectively Suri would have been helpless.  God, no.  I didn’t want to think about that.  

So I was flippant, and cold.  “Doctor Sun’s a woman of the world.  You’re telling me she’s never heard of an abortion?”

“She doesn’t want an abortion.  She says she won’t compound Primus’ act by taking an innocent life.”

“When did Doctor Sun turn into a pro-lifer?”

“She says the baby has a mind and she won’t kill it.”  Sapphire floated herself down onto my dining room floor, still surrounded by a protective bubble but no longer on my stairs.  “Are you going to help, or not?”

“I’m a feminist Darwinist.  I’m morally opposed to letting a fetus conceived in rape live.  It lets dangerous genes persist in the population.  Suri knows that.”

Sapphire sighed explosively.  “Fine.  I knew you weren’t going to be any help, but Doctor Sun believed in you.  I’ll just go tell her I was right and she was wrong.”

“What is this supposed to be, reverse psychology?”

“Nothing reverse about it. I knew before I got here that I would be wasting my time.  You’re a killer with no conscience; why Doctor Sun ever thought you might help, I have no idea.”

“Because she knows me better than you.”  I stepped forward.  “If this is reverse psychology bullshit, it isn’t necessary. I’ve known I was going to agree to help you since you told me she was dying.  And if you really believe what you’re saying, then nyaah nyaah nyaah.  I’m a doctor; everything I do, I do to save lives.  And at least I have to try to persuade Doctor Sun to abort the thing.  Besides, if she was raped by Primus she might have injuries she could need my help with.”  Primus had hammered at me like he was trying to break my pelvis, and without my powers he might actually have done so.  And I’d voluntarily gone to bed with him.  What he’d do to a woman he was raping, I really really didn’t want to imagine.

I didn’t mention to Sapphire that this was partly my fault anyway.  When I’d met her, Suri (Dr. Suri to me in those days, but I feel I have the right to call her by her first name now) had been dying slowly of multiple sclerosis.  She had met me on a good day; she’d only needed crutches and braces to move.  On bad days she’d been confined to a wheelchair, and on really bad days she’d had to stay in bed.  I’d healed her, and in the process I’d turned her from a forty-something woman approaching menopause back to a woman in her prime, young and healthy, physically in her 20’s.  It had been almost 20 years since I’d done that; Suri would be approaching menopause again, but obviously wasn’t there yet.  By now she’d be well past childbearing if I hadn’t de-aged her when I’d healed her disease.

I didn’t know whether Primus had raped her to torture her, to express domination over her, to really make the Peace Force mad at him, or to impregnate her, but I knew he had enough control over his body that if he hadn’t wanted to impregnate her, it wouldn’t have happened.  It was entirely possible that the goal of the whole thing had been to force her to carry his child; Suri was an enormously powerful Proxima with high output power mitochondria, and most women with such energy-full mitochondria would have had a power they could use to fight back against Primus.  Blocking a Proxima woman’s powers while she was pregnant carried high risk to the fetus if it too was a Proxima; it could prevent the fetus from developing the ability to control its powers as an adult.  Suri was rare in that she was incredibly powerful but only telepathic, with no telekinetic abilities, and with Primus’ immunity to telepathy, she’d have had no way to fight back against him even at her full power.  If Primus had wanted a powerful woman to pass her mitochondria to his child, and he hadn’t cared about her consent, there were few Proximas who’d make a better target for him.  And if that was the case, then the whole thing wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t made her younger, sixteen years ago.

Sapphire blinked.  “Wait.  You are coming?”

“I just said so.  But we have to bring my cats.  They need to eat more than the average cat – they’d starve if I left them without food for three or four days, and obviously I can’t ask the neighbors to come feed them.”

“Fine.  Sedate them; I don’t need a cat flying all over my car, or meowing and moaning in his carrier the whole time.  We’ll put them in one of the suites and make sure they get fed.”

I took my cell phone – it had all of my appointments and contacts in it, and I’d have to call them all to reschedule once I knew how long this was going to take.  If I could talk Suri into aborting the fetus, this could probably go very quickly, but I knew how stubborn she was.  If I had to save the baby too, I could possibly have to take a few weeks.

Damn Suri.  Why the hell was I taking time off my work and spending four hours in a car with one of the people who most annoyed me in the entire world to go save my greatest opponent anyway?  From a problem she could just fix herself if she wasn’t so damn stubborn?

But I already knew.  I couldn’t let Suryabati Chandrasekhar die; not under any circumstances, and most especially not if she’d asked for me specifically.  Our differences were ideological; what she’d done for me went beyond ideology.  I would fight her and her people when I had to, but if she was dying and she needed me, I had to go.

[fearsmagazine]

VARÈSE SARABANDE RECORDS  Announces RECORD STORE DAY 2021 Releases.

Varèse Sarabande Records will be releasing seven amazing soundtrack LPs on Record Store Day 2021’s newly announced release dates: The Matrix will be released as a deluxe 3-LP set, Village of the Damned will be released as a deluxe-edition double LP, The Iron Giant and The Goonies will get the picture disc treatment, and Shrek, Ghosts of Mars, and Aliens will be released as limited-edition color LPs. This annual celebration will be held through a series of Record Store Day drops, which will occur on June 12th and July 17th.

These seven Varèse Sarabande Records titles will be available on the dates listed below at thousands of independent record stores. For a list of participating stores and more information about these special LPs, visit RecordStoreDay.com.

*JUNE 12th: The Matrix, The Goonies, Village of the Damned, Shrek *JULY 17th: The Iron Giant, Ghosts of Mars, Aliens

THE MATRIX: The Complete Edition – Don Davis (3-LP Set) – *RELEASE DATE: JUNE 12th* The science-fiction masterpiece has captured the imagination of another generation with news of a new Matrix film in production. This deluxe 3-LP set is pressed on Glitter-Infused Green vinyl, expanded to 44 tracks, and housed in a stunning new art design. Also included are classic film stills and an exclusive new interview with composer Don Davis.

TRACK LISTINGS

Side A 1. “Logos / The Matrix Main Title” 2. “Trinity Infinity” 3. “Neo Con Brio” 4. “Follow The White Rabbit” 5. “Neo On The Edge” 6. “Through The Surveillance Monitor” 7. “Unable To Speak” 8. “Bait And Switch”

Side B 1. “Switched For Life” 2. “Switched At Birth” 3. “Switches Brew” 4. “Cold Hearted Switch” 5. “Nascent Nauseous Neo” 6. “A Morpheus Movement” 7. “Bow Whisk Orchestra”

Side C 1. “Domo Showdown” 2. “Switch Or Break Show” 3. “Shake, Borrow, Switch” 4. “Switch Works Her Boa” 5. “Bring Me Dinner” 6. “The System” 7. “Freeze Face” 8. “Switch Woks Her Boar” 9. “Cypher Cybernetic” 10. “Ignorance Is Bliss / Cyber Cyphernetic” 11. “See Who?” 12. “Switch Out”

Side D 1. “Boon Spy” 3. “Oracle Cookies” 4. “Threat Mix” 5. “Exit Mr. Hat” 6. “On Your Knees, Switch”

Side E 1. “Mix The Art” 2. “Whoa, Switch Brokers” 3. “The Cure” 4. “It’s The Smell” 5. “The Lobby” 6. “No More Spoons” 7. “Dodge This” 8. “Fast Learning” 9. “Ontological Shock”

Side F 1. “That’s Gotta Hurt” 2. “Surprise” 3. “He’s The One Alright”

THE GOONIES – David Grusin (Picture Disc) – *RELEASE DATE: JUNE 12TH* In celebration of the 35th anniversary of The Goonies, the beloved soundtrack by Dave Grusin will be released on an LP picture disc for the first time ever! The special release features the album cover on side A and the infamous One-Eyed Willie on side B. The track listing to this abbreviated single-disc version of the original score was personally selected and assembled by Grusin himself.

TRACK LISTINGS

Side A 1. “Fratelli Chase” 2. “Cellar And Sloth” 3. “The Goondocks (Goonies Theme)” 4. “The ‘It,’ Fifty Dollar Bills And A Stiff” 5. “Pee Break And Kissing Tunnel” 6. “Skull And Signature” 7. “Plumbing” 8. “Restaurant Trash” 9. “Boulders, Bats And A Blender”

Side B 1. “They’re Here And Skull Cave Chase” 2. “Playing The Bones” 3. “Mikey’s Vision” 4. “Triple Stones And A Ball” 5. “Wishing Well And The Fratellis Find Coin” 6. “Mama & Sloth” 7. “One Eyed Willie” 8. “No Firme And Pirate Ship”

VILLAGE OF THE DAMNED: The Deluxe Edition – John Carpenter & Dave Davies (2-LP Set) – *RELEASE DATE: JUNE 12TH* The Deluxe Edition for Village of the Damned presents the full score as heard in the film for the first time, a far more complete presentation than the 1995 Original Soundtrack which was not only truncated but made of an entirely separate mix that wasn’t featured in the film. The set does, however, include the track “Midwich Shuffle,” a fun number which was created specifically for the 1995 soundtrack, despite never actually appearing in the film. Interest in John Carpenter’s original film scores has never been higher, and his collaboration with Dave Davies of the Kinks is a one-of-a-kind moment in cinematic music history. The album includes all-new original art direction with new notes and classic film stills and comes pressed on Orange Haze vinyl.

TRACK LISTINGS

Side A 1. “Angel Of Death / Midwich Sleeps / Daybreak” 2. “The Fair (Extended Version)” 3. “Gas Station / Asleep” 4. “Awaken / The Funeral” 5. “Welcome Home, Ben (Extended Version)” 6. “Big Meeting / The Decision” 7. “The Same Dream”

Side B 1. “Baptism (Extended Version)” 2. “Baby Mara” 3. “Children’s Theme / Dilemma” 4. “The Parents Arrive” 5. “Children’s Carol (Instrumental)”

Side C 1. “Loss / Carol Of The Damned” 2. “Carlton” 3. “Ben’s Death / Ultimatum” 4. “Burning Desire (Extended Version)”

Side D 1. “Last Kiss / The Bomb” 2. “The Brick Wall (Extended Version)” 3. “March Of The Children (End Credits)” 4. “Midwich Shuffle”

SHREK – Harry Gregson-Williams & John Powell (Limited-Edition Color LP) – *RELEASE DATE: JUNE 12TH* Shrek is the second most successful animated franchise in history and celebrating its 20th anniversary in 2021. Harry Gregson-Williams and John Powell are two of the most prominent composers working on animated features today, and they joined forces to create a score that is still as fun and memorable as it was when it was first released. The LP will be released on Neon Green vinyl, making it a standout addition to any record lover’s collection.

TRACK LISTINGS

Side A 1.  “Fairytale” 2.  “Ogre Hunters / Fairytale Deathcamp” 3.  “Donkey Meets Shrek” 4.  “Eating Alone” 5.  “Uninvited Guests” 6.  “March Of Farquuad” 7.  “The Perfect King” 8.  “Welcome To Duloc” 9.  “Tournament Speech” 10. “What Kind Of Quest” 11. “Dragon! / Fiona Awakens” 12. “One Of A Kind Knight” 13. “Saving Donkey’s Ass” 14. “Escape From The Dragon”

Side B 1.  “Helmet Hair” 2.  “Delivery Boy / Shrek / Making Camp” 3.  “Friends Journey To Duloc” 4.  “Starry Night” 5.  “Singing Princess” 6.  “Better Out Than In / Sunflower / I’ll Tell Him” 7.  “Merry Men” 8.  “Fiona Kicks Ass” 9.  “Fiona’s Secret” 10. “Why Wait To Be Wed / You Thought Wrong” 11. “Ride The Dragon” 12. “I Object” 13. “Transformation / The End”

THE IRON GIANT – Michael Kamen (Picture Disc) – *RELEASE DATE: JULY 17TH* This first-ever picture disc of this heartwarming 1999 animated film celebrates The Robot, his best friend, Hogarth, and a cast of characters. The music is by Academy Award®-nominated composer Michael Kamen (Lethal Weapon, Die Hard), who was well-known for his work with Eric Clapton, Metallica and Pink Floyd, in addition to his brilliant theatrical scores.

TRACK LISTINGS

Side A 1. “The Eye Of The Storm” 2. “Hogarth Hughes” 3. “Into The Forest” 4. “The Giant Wakes” 5. “Come And Get It” 6. “Cat And Mouse” 7. “Train Wreck” 8. “You Can Fix Yourself?” 9. “Hand Underfoot” 10. “Bedtime Stories” 11. “We Gotta Hide” 12. “His Name Is Dean” 13. “Eating Art” 14. “Space Car” 15. “Souls Don’t Die”

Side B 1. “Contest Of Wills” 2. “The Army Arrives” 3. “Annie And Dean” 4. “He’s A Weapon” 5. “The Giant Discovered” 6. “Trance-Former” 7. “No Following” 8. “The Last Giant Piece”

GHOSTS OF MARS – John Carpenter (Limited-Edition Color LP) – *RELEASE DATE: JULY 17TH* In celebration of Ghosts of Mars’ 20th anniversary, the epic soundtrack will be released on “Red Planet” vinyl. John Carpenter recruited an unbelievable cast of musicians to record the soundtrack to this sci-fi horror film, starring Ice Cube and Natasha Henstridge. Among the featured players are GRAMMY®-winning musician Steve Vai, most of the heavy metal band Anthrax (including Scott Ian), Elliot Eason of the rock band The Cars, Buckethead of Guns N’ Roses, and Robin Finck of Nine Inch Nails and Guns N’ Roses. This soundtrack is apocalyptic and an important mark in John Carpenter’s unparalleled career as a director and composer.

TRACK LISTINGS

Side A 1. “Ghosts Of Mars” 2. “Love Siege” 3. “Fight Train” 4. “Visions Of Earth” 5. “Kick Ass”

Side B 1. “Slashing Void” 2. “Power Station” 3. “Can't Let You Go” 4. “Dismemberment Blues” 5. “Fightin’ Mad” 6. “Pam Grier’s Head” 7. “Ghost Poppin’”

ALIENS: 35th Anniversary Edition – James Horner (Limited-Edition Color LP) – *RELEASE DATE: JULY 17TH* Aliens is regarded as one of the greatest science fiction franchises of all-time. In honor of its 35th anniversary, the long out-of-print original soundtrack gets a fresh reboot on Acid-Blood Yellow-Green vinyl.  The soundtrack is scored by the great Academy Award®-winning composer James Horner (Titanic, Avatar, Beautiful Mind). The LP features the original Sigourney Weaver key art and original film stills.

TRACK LISTINGS

Side A 1. “Main Title” 2. “Going After Newt” 3. “Sub-Level 3” 4. “Ripley’s Rescue” 5. “Atmosphere Station”

Side B 1. “Futile Escape” 2. “Dark Discovery” 3. “Bishop’s Countdown” 4. “Resolution And Hyperspace”

ABOUT VARÈSE SARABANDE RECORDS

Founded in 1978, Varèse Sarabande is the most prolific producer of film music in the world, releasing the highest quality soundtracks from the world’s greatest composers. From current box office hits and top television series to the classics of Hollywood’s Golden Age, Varèse Sarabande’s catalog includes albums from practically every composer in every era, covering all of film history; from Bernard Herrmann, Alex North and Jerry Goldsmith to Alexandre Desplat, Michael Giacchino and Brian Tyler. Varèse Sarabande is a part of Concord.

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