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the-goddess-of-mischief-writing · 3 years

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New York High Rise {1}

Chapter summary; During all your years as the most successful mob boss of New York, no-one have ever dared to seriously battle for the crown with you. Up until now. Steven Grant Rogers, son of the infamous mob boss Joseph Rogers, has suddenly chosen you as his rival. Who will be winning in the end?

Pairing: Steve x reader

Rating: Mature

CHAPTER NO/ONESHOT: Chapter 1/5

Word; 5.9k

Warnings; swearing is standard in my works, mentions of canon-type violence

Author; @the-goddess-of-mischief-writing

A/N: I actually started this series on a whim and all of a sudden ended up having four chapters. I really love it for some reason, maybe because it such a powerplay and I’m a hoe for that trope, especially when it’s a enemies to lovers story. Anyhow, enough of my rambling, I hope you guys enjoy this little mid week update! PSA: If you want to be tagged in the series, jus send me an ask!

SERIES MASTERLIST

Golden chains and champagne. Fancy watches and whiskey on the rocks. Whatever related to the word expensive you were associated with. Although, unlike many others in your business, you hadn't grown up in this world of luxury, nor had you inherited the empire you now were the boss of, enabling you to live the extravagance life you did. No, you were one of the few who'd worked their ass off to earn every last thing you owned.

By most, your efforts looked like a great business mind and some luck. How else could you've become a multi-millionaire on investing in stocks? But to others, those knowing the flipside of the coin, they knew your success in capitals was nothing but a cover for your stealthy work in the shadows. It was a dance, one with feline grace, that you'd performed to reach your position. A status meaning you were one of the most famous mob bosses in New York City.

When hearing mafia, most would think of the old Italian image of people smoking cigars in fedoras, with some moustache that looked similar to pencil lines on their upper lip. Those who owned cities and the whole country knew of it but could do nothing about it.

Perhaps some of these stereotypes suited the older godfathers of New York, who sat proudly on their pedestals and watched the world pass by. But you were different from them. You didn't just watch the world continue and progress by itself. You moved along with it.

You were the new generation.

Compared to the godfathers, who every last person in New York and the bordering states knew off, you had two faces. One you showed the public and one you ruled the underworld with. To society, you were spotless, a name associated with nothing but a sharp mind and benevolence to the public. But you were at the top in the underworld syndicate, the biggest of the biggest. Yet, you didn't rule with fear, simply that of uttermost respect and earned trust. In other words, your reputation or connections weren't bought. They were deserved.

Thus, compared to the older generations, your face could be recognised by a civilian or someone from the underworld, none thinking about calling the police or betraying your trust. You owned the city without it even knowing it.

It was from the way you'd reached this top in stunning silence, together with the grace you played everyone with, that you and your empire earned the alias felines. Like a tiger cub who grew into an adult, your empire was once the smallest but now the biggest. Like a lion, you evoke respect and awe no matter where you went. Like a cat no one cared about, you could cross the streets without an issue in public.

Some of the elders, at least those who were your allies, had expressed their concern of your brassiness. 'Why play cat and mouse with fate?' they often said. But you always answered the same 'I am the cat'. And it was true. Despite some of those opposed to your methods, or just you in general, took the chances they could at picking you off the map. No one ever succeeded. Solely for one reason.

Now, you deemed agreeing to one of your first ever business deals the best choice you ever made. Although it meant you financed some of the worlds leading underground tech corporation with quite some substantial coin, the panthers were nowadays always watching over you. They lingered in the shadows, disarming every try at putting a bullet through your skull.

Albeit not as famous as yourself or the organisation you ran, the Black Panther Operation the sibling pair T'Challa and Shuri operated was, in no shape or form, not impressive. They'd established themselves as the leading organisation, even if not known by half of the people in New York, in the tech area. Not only were they invaluable to the numerous politicians wanting them to work under the radar to get the upper hand on sovereign states, but they also were to you.

They hadn't only supplied you with their physical protection of their elite bodyguards, the Dora Milaje or in common-tongue known as the shadow panthers, but their tech as well. Although, compared to anyone who would've been in your position and chosen the weapons or impenetrable bodysuit that Shuri, ever the genius she was, had invented, you'd chosen one of the other assets. The cloud, the internet.

Hackers were the way forwards compared to warriors. They were the weapon of keeping you one step ahead of anyone by supplying you with the information needed to be able to hold someone's life in your hands.

It was only to look back at the countless occasions anyone tried to persuade you into a business deal you would do nothing but lose at. Thanks to Shuri having dug out the facts that could bring any of your rivals down in the dumps, you'd walked victorious away anyways.

You were certain any of the other godfathers would've killed someone for even thinking, no less trying, to propose a disreputable arrangement with them in the first place. Yet, you knew how much one ever could make a death look like a self-caused accident, that in the end, people would start to wonder why it happened to people of the same background, connected to one and the same empire. However, the former generations didn't really care about bad publicity anyway, so why would they care about lining the street with dead bodies? But the difference was you weren't them.

By all means, some would say your ways was far more torturous than a bullet between the eyes. You wouldn't agree or disagree, only say it was just. Involving a legal and judicial battle was the new way of handling conflicts, after all. It was more efficient than having to wash the blood of your name all the time, according to you. Not only that, you gained a lot more than just a dead body.

You were in somewhat of partnership with most bosses around the city. Those you weren't, rather those you'd only settled a deal with that said "as long as you kept to each of your own territory nothing would happen", did try to bend the rules and use the terror tacit. Either they targeted you personally or something equally as important in your part of the city. It could be anything that would get to you, really. But, no matter what they did, they tried to not do it themselves. Instead, hire a hitman or someone equally as bad. The problem with this was that these people's records were far from innocent, something you used to your advantage.

If you tasked Shuri to find anything and everything these people had done, it was easy to find a person they'd wronged and who sought revenge or justification. The only thing you did was play your hand well, usually meaning you pulled some strings and supply the money. While T'Challa, as the expert he was on it, handed out the information his sister had gathered to reliable sources. Your collaboration made the person you hunted sit opposite someone from their past in a courtroom. Most of the times, they also lost the case.

Choosing to do this rather than go rampage and fire your gun aimlessly meant you settled as a second, or sometimes even third or four-hand source to what went down. So not only did your name remain clear despite answering a rivals offence, your involvement was nearly impossible to track as well. Thus, you could take down five of a rivals' men while they only took one of yours.

Despite one could call you out on hypocrisy, saying that the shadow panthers protecting you didn't own the same benevolence and were quick and silent in their killing, there was one reason you didn't care about the fact. Currently, they may be under a shared command, but their never-ending allegiance was always towards the founders of the Black Panther Operation. If either Shuri or T'Challa said stand back or decided to cut their deal with you, the shadow panther's protection would disappear. The same went if you chose to rip the contract.

However, it was a slim chance that either of the siblings or you would terminate your arrangement. Seeing how now, years later, you still were the sole person working a continuous agreement with them. That was why nowadays, your and theirs organisations were nearly associated as the same by most in the underworld.

Your style of ruling New York and living such different lives in the light and dark made others in your profession joke you were the sole one with an ordinary life. That you were no traditional mafia, simply a highly functioning business-orientated company that invested in stocks. However, both you and everyone around you knew that wasn't true. The reason? You weren't afraid to use every last of your assets to remain in control of your empire. Whatever it took.

And that was a promise someone the last months had put up to the test.

You don't know what set it off, perhaps the old saying of cats and dogs never working well together. Or that because you were at the top drew enough confidence out of someone to try and knock you down. For whatever reason, someone decided to start a ruckus with you.

It had begun small enough you had no idea that someone was behind it. Connections or deals with companies connected to your empire backing out of contracts in the last seconds, saying they got a better offer. The word secrecy, frequently used for ones own safety in the world you lived in, was a term you'd heard enough times by now to grow tired of. It was no significant agreements, seeing how you were well enough to not care about money, but it was plenty bothersome for your pride.

The next step in the escalation had been dealings slightly more important than a question of money, which was your territory and thereby also safety. You still had some meetings with a few godfathers, had fore some time actually. It was mostly those who once had opposed you in the days you weren't a threat or those who just tried to live secludedly enough that they died by natural causes rather than in a cell or from rivalry.

Each of those conferences had been about securing your grip on Manhattan. Primarily to obtain some neighbourhoods closest to Harlem Park and the northern part of the Inwood neighbourhood. Both of which currently was in some sort of grey zone. Meaning neither owned by them nor you. Although those areas were still not written as yours, concerning how those old bosses abruptly didn't seem to want to seal any deals that they weeks ago had agreed on.

Then you'd entered the third stage. The one that made you understand all these cancellations wasn't merely coincidence, but somebody working against you. People from both your closest crew and the Black Panther section had been disappearing. It wasn't uncommon. Your business was nothing but personal feelings and wants most of the times. However, concerning how few men and women you'd lost under your watch, this sudden increase was off-putting.

Closer to the truth was something like this had never happened to this extent before. You hadn't had people close to you or anyone associated with you abducted. However, the worst thing was that the bodies of those disappearing were never not found bloody or in a morgue.

Money or failing to persuade old godfathers wasn't something you took personal, but when people started dropping like flies around you, that you took personally. Hence, you, Shuri and T'Challa worked endlessly on finding who was behind it.

Almost every time, you found the culprit of the act, but not the big boss behind it all. Disabling you from taking more than one person out of play. That your jaw hadn't broken for how much you'd clenched it in frustration, or your teeth shattered from the amount you gritted them was a mystery. You hunted the person ordering these things, yet with no success.

Although one day, when one of the subordinates in your very own team had been missing for a week returned, barely clinging to their consciousness, you'd gotten to know who this new rival of yours was.

Steven Grant Rogers.

The canines, an alias for the Rogers family, were equally known as any of the old US President in the underworld in New York. If one hadn't heard of them in your profession, it was more likely that you already were dead or not in it all because they were notorious.

They'd ruled Brooklyn with an iron fist and was probably the crown specimen of the reputation that accompanied the word mafia. There was a grace in their affairs and killing. But compared to your work, which was performed in shadows and silence, they flaunted it, not scared of running from the police because they already knew they never would be caught.

From what you knew, they'd fallen off somewhat after Joseph Rogers, the head of the Canine Empire, died in one of the rivalries between mobs. His death had been years before you were even born, close to an age it was as high of a chance he could've passed from natural causes. Still, the commotion and continuous dispute following his disappearance and the unclear leadership had served as a fall for the Canine Empire. There was no doubt your rise to the same amount of power as the former union possessed would've been as easy if you'd had them as your opponents.

However, now, it seemed like the past would haunt you down in the form of Joseph Rogers son.

Albeit you never met the new boss of the Canines, there was no doubt you considered, for the first time, to personally put a bullet through someone's head. Steven Grant Rogers was as ruthless as stories told his father had been. He'd even been labelled the golden boy of Brooklyn, rumoured to restore the brutal power of the Canine Empire. Yet, the spot he was reaching for with old alliances regrouping to boost him to the top was a position you currently occupied.

This is where the difference between if you'd had a regular business organisation and the domain you now did, settled in. You went on total offense.

You contacted T'Challa and Shuri, calling them in for a meeting. Even though the pair knew of what had happened so far, they were your partners and thus, you would discuss the actions you would take with them, even if your deal said nothing of that sort. But you knew, compared to your rival, it seemed, how important it was to hold onto your closest allies with other methods than fear and the threat of death. And thus, you also received the help of a friend rather than a business partner.

It must've been the bloodiest month in the last decade from the rivalry that blossomed up between the Felines and Canines the second you started to answer the new top dog's advances. You got reports that the shadow panthers watching your back had cleared more people putting you up as a target than in a long time. As well, did more of the people under your name end up red in back allies.

Then it shifted. As soon as you started getting trails of more people than just the executioners, you were suddenly able to take out divisions of his minions. And while the killing went on, you started winning the big battles. In other words, while Steven continued to play it hard, you started to play smart.

You cut off deals he could do in Brooklyn, much harsher and unforgiving than his initials ones on your side of the East River. It was everything from supplies, to money, to the extra set of eyes. Everything to limit him to sources you knew he wouldn't be happy with having to resort to. While handling this, with the help from Shuri, you also broadened your search to find every little dirty-worker under the mob boss's command. Thanks to those now operating for you on the Brooklyn side, you helped people who'd had a past with Steven's men tip police of and capture them.

Pawn by pawn, you lessened the number of ways the Canine boss could run in taking down your empire. You had him cornered, already several moves ahead of him whatever he chose to do. Only, it was one step you thought he never would do that, in the end, made everything come to a skidding halt.

He'd requested a parley.

"Y'know I don't really like the idea of you meeting him", you didn't look up from the papers you currently were reading to look at Shuri where she lounged on your office's couch.

Though it felt like you should examine the folder that rested in your handbag -the one containing the event plans for the charity event you would host for the many high society individuals and governors, or anyone with money really, in two weeks- those documents weren't the ones you were looking through now.

It was five days ago since Steven had asked for the parlay. Ever since then, you'd worked on the deal you would offer him. You had no desire to sign whatever he would hand to you. And you knew he would propose something. The Canine boss was the challenger, after all. Even more so, the one requesting a meeting from the start. Thus, he, for one, would offer something to cease your continuous confrontations and two, he would try to drag you down while elevating himself. That you couldn't have.

"I know", you finally responded when having read the side you were on in the contract you had put together for your rival. "Still, I want to hear what the man has to say so I can stop losing resources, time and people", you turned to the next page as you said this.

There came no response immediately despite that you felt Shuri was looking at you. You'd gotten good at noticing this, someone observing you. Hence, even though the best of the panthers always were safeguarding you somewhere in the crowds, it never hurt to not solely depend on others for your own safety. Because that was what your constantly high attentiveness was for anyways. To always be keen on your surroundings and try to detect someone's move before they did it.

"It's almost interesting to see someone challenge you for the position of being the big boss, Lekati", it wasn't only at the reserved nickname Shuri used that caught your attention. The rest of what she'd said also made you pause mid-turn of the last page, eyes automatically shifting to her.

Now, instead of sprawling across the piece of furniture the women occupied, she sat upright with a smile ghosting her lips. Your eyes narrowed as you noted this.

"Oh, stop imagining using your sharp claws on me".

"I wasn't".

"You're a bad liar when you want to be", the tech mogul pointed out with a finger directed towards you. Your features stayed indifferent despite the fact that her remark had been correct.

"When will your brother be back?" The dark-haired women cocked a brow at your sudden change of topic.

"Any minute, I suppose, why?"

"He's more pleasant to have around while I try to work, less chatty", an incredulous snort left Shuri as she crossed her arms, leaning back against the couch's backside. Her reaction made your stoic facade drop somewhat, causing the side of your mouth to tug upwards. It was an act she caught and couldn't help but shake her head at.

"I never get tired of not knowing whether you're about to send half of the city after me or simply are in a playing mood", your repressed smile bloomed into a fully-fledged one, amused by Shuri's comment.

"Opt for the latter for as long as those couple of hundred thousand dollars are rolling into your account". Averting your eyes from the women you were speaking to, you once again inspected the bunch of papers before you.

Having worked on them for days and ever since this morning re-reading the contract, you knew it was worded to perfection. There were no loopholes nor any unnecessary losses for either part. So, for as long as Steven didn't belong to the old saying of 'it’s hard to learn an old dog to sit', you knew his signature would decorate the last page.

"However, you should worry about the day when the money is missing", you hummed while stacking the papers orderly, putting them back into the same folder they'd been stored since you'd gotten the paper copies of the transcript.

"Would that be my sign to start running?" You looked up again, instantly meeting Shuri's humoured look.

"It would probably be too late", you shrugged nonchalantly, placing the folder you would have to the meeting in your handbag in a swift motion while swivelling your chair to face her, rather than your desk as you'd done previously. As a chuckle was heard from the dark-haired woman, you crossed one leg over the other and leaned back in your seat.

"It's good that I'm your ally and not your foe".

"Good to hear you view yourself as a friend. Was fearing you would switch sides to my challenger's", you mused, arms coming to prop up against your armrest to support your head when you tilted it.

"I never would, even if I knew he had a chance to win", even though feeling somewhat relieved - because this world and one's alliances could change fast, no matter current contracts or friendships- when Shuri said this, you wouldn't show it. Therefore, instead of smiling at her belief that Steven had no chance of beating you at a game you had been the best player at for years, you simply kept observing the woman as she stood from the couch.

The young tech mogul started to make her way closer to you, a slight sheerness in her step that impersonated the glint in her eye. And you understood why for when she opened her mouth to speak.

"But you can't deny it's interesting someone is seriously trying to take you down", you rolled your eyes while you let your hand fall to tap against your thigh.

"Seems like you're more excited about it than me", you started, spinning your chair slowly to follow Shuri as she settled partly on the empty edge of your desk. She looked expectantly at you, waiting for an answer despite your deflection of it initially. For once, purely because of the topic, you complied. "But no, I definitely do not find it interesting", you sighed out.

"Oh, come on, Lekati...".

"Stop with the nickname", you cut her off with a roll of your eyes. However, instead of earning the quick nod of confirmation to follow your exasperated order, the dark-haired women grinned. Perhaps if it was anyone else than Shuri, you would've been irritated and sent them out of your office, but concerning you viewed her more as a friend than a simple job partner, you did neither when her teasing continued.

"Has the dog really gotten that much under your skin?" She chuckled. "Must be the first one... ever. Or correct me if I'm wrong?" You simply dropped your head and shook it. The young women were right and she knew she was. Steven was the sole one able to make you nearly lose your footing ever since claiming the crown of the underworld.

"Why couldn't he just stay put?" You mumbled under your breath, thumb smoothing out the wrinkles having settled between your brows. "We'd never heard of him before. Why decide to make himself known now all of a sudden? After years of silence?"

"Some men seek the satisfaction of bringing entities down, especially if they ruled it before and now it's overtaken by a woman", you looked up at Shuri. But instead of meeting her gaze, your eyes fell to the piece of paper she held up. Evidently, she'd plucked your Cartier pen and a sticky note from the stack always resting on your desk and written three letters on the piece of paper while you spoke. You, it stood on it.

"Thank you for the flattery", you replied, reaching forward to snatch the note from her. "But I would've prefered if Rogers hadn't, would spare me the task of crushing his ego", the brown-eyed women chuckled at that.

"Maybe he needs to take yours down a step or two too", you stood from your chair as she said this, dropping the slightly crumpled note you'd taken from her into the bin under your desk, then starting to head towards the mirror you had in your office.

"I don't have an ego. I simply know my self-worth".

"Sounds a lot like you're bordering on narcissism", she said in a sing-song voice. "Maybe you and his pride can go on a date. I bet they would rule New York happily ever after", you couldn't suppress a chuckle at Shuri's words, whether you wanted to show how absolutely hilariously unbelievable it was or not.

"Can't your brother come and save me from your antics?" You muttered, spotting the smile the genius behind you sported in the mirror. It was meant for her to hear, so you weren't shocked when she responded to the banter.

"I actually prefer his absence. The two of you together nearly drown me in the seriousness", Shuri complained dramatically. You amusedly rolled your eyes before settling to look at your chosen attire.

Compared to how far away you stood from tradition in the godfather's senses, it was one custom you fulfilled like the rest of them. You believed that the clothes made the man. And, for a meeting like the one you soon would go to, you didn't hesitate to strive for that effect.

You knew Steven was old fashioned. Everything he did cried it. So, of course, you would try to throw him off at every point you could. The skirt and dress were switched out for a suit, midnight black. It was a loose fit and probably matched the high-end fashion more than traditional meeting standards, but you didn't genuinely worry. You were here to show you are the new generation and wouldn't budge because you were the sole women in New York running a syndicate. Doing the best job at it as well.

However, if the man you would meet would frown upon women in a suit, the lace bodysuit, black as well, you wore instead of a dress shirt would probably give him a heart attack. It covered enough but were in no way domesticated and left the upper part of your chest bare. It was a great way to show off the two thin chains of gold decorating your neck.

For some reason, your eyes lingered on the golden metal shining from the light trickling into your office. You started to fiddle with the necklace then, concentrating on how they weren't cold but rather heated up from your body temperature.

You became lost in your own world, fingers splaying over the hollow in your throat to absentmindedly play with the chains there while you thought about the meeting that was rapidly coming closer.

The action, together with the far-away look you stared at your movement in the mirror, was something that caught Shuri's attention.

"Relax", instantly your eyes flickered up to watch her in the mirror's reflective surface as if snapped from a daze. She'd shifted, so she now sat on the front of your desk, head turned in your direction. "It'll go good".

"Wasn't it you who said that you didn't want me to meet him in the first place?" You began to challenge her words of reassurance, hand falling from your skin to instead hang by your side. Not until you'd turned and cocked your brow at her did you continue. "That must insinuate you don't think it will go good", she simply shrugged when you said this.

"I did say I don't like his sudden call for a conference and that you accepted it in the first place", she began, crossing her feet at the ankle and looking down at the movement momentarily before her gaze found yours once more. "But that doesn't mean I don't think it will go good. I know it will. You're good at your job", you smiled at that. You already knew that you worked great under pressure, or else you wouldn't be standing on top of the empire you ruled. Although, it was always comforting to hear it from someone else.

Fittingly, in the next second, a knock on your door echoed in the room, effectively putting an end to your previous conversation with the women perched on your desk.

"Enter", you called without hesitating, as soon as both your and Shuri's attention also turned to the entrance. The guard stationed outside of your room didn't need to inform you of who'd wanted to enter. You already knew it was T'Challa. And as the guard opened the heavy door to your office and held it open for whoever had requested it, indeed it was Shuri's brother stepping through the doorway.

You didn't more than slightly tip your head to acknowledge the guard's nod of respect your way before he closed the door. Primarily because you spotted the slate grey folder the older of the children of T'Chaka held. It was the call about the seemingly insignificant object being completed that had interrupted the earlier discussion you, Shuri and T'Challa had. Your assemblage hadn't been much more than some minor last discussions and to wait for the folder the man now walking through the room held. Thus the portfolio contained a report, the ultimate attempt of finding anything that could aid you in the meeting with Steven.

"Anything good?" You skipped the unnecessary greetings as you gestured to the portfolio in T'Challa's hand while walking closer to your desk, which also was where he was heading.

"Look for yourself", when he said this, the brown-eyed mad held out the folder for you to take. You did but didn't open it until you'd rounded the counter and sat down in your chair again.

You didn't know what you'd expected to meet you, but a photo and a single sheet of paper weren't it.

For a moment, you stared at the picture resting on top of the report underneath it. Presumably, it should've been a photo of Steven sitting in some club. Although it was blurry and had no great exposure, which made it impossible to tell much about his appearance. Still, you knew it was him or else the picture wouldn't be here. However, it did nothing to help you paint a picture of the man which name so far seemed to be faceless.

Putting the picture to the side, you quickly started to eye the document. You scanned it, finding it contained random facts citing what properties the Canine boss had invested in, even owned. Apparently, Steven managed several clubs, which would explain why his first suggestion of a meeting place had been just that. Other than that, he owned some other businesses that wasn't much to cheer for. All infected by alcohol and drugs by the looks and names. Classical.

"This all?" You finally questioned after turning the sheet over, finding the backside blank. When glancing up, you saw T'Challa nodding. You clenched your jaw and looked back down at the paper.

Ever since Steven had asked for an official meeting, between your eyes only, as his message had been clear to state, you'd requested for the siblings to find out whatever they could about him. You wanted the advantage you knew he couldn't get over you. Thus, what was publicly known of you wasn't anything to hide. And frankly, he was more than welcome to read the articles that had written things about you. Yet, every secret of yours, or anything you'd deemed unfitting for anyone to know, had been wiped. No one could ever find something about you that you didn't want on the internet. Though, it seemed you weren't the only one sitting on resources like that.

Albeit the "new mob boss" was discussed in several articles, Steven's name had no face in any of them. In general, there was no picture of him or much information to track him down by either. So, despite your best efforts, now it seemed you didn't have much more than your hunch to go on during the meeting.

"I do not think it's wise to meet him", T'Challa said, much like his sister had earlier. With a sigh, you leaned back in your chair, fingers releasing the paper you'd gripped to pinch the bridge of your nose instead.

"Neither of you wants me to meet him, do you?" At first, silence met you, which made you look up the sibling pair. They shared a glance before Shuri turned slightly to look at you and her brother crossed his arms.

"No", they said simultaneously, which made you huff.

"I may like it as little as you two, but it put a temporary pause to the conflict. And if he comes to accept my terms, maybe that will remain".

"And what if he doesn't?" T'Challa inquired, receiving a frown from his sister, while you simply tilted your head down to look at your watch. "What if he refuses to tuck tail?" He continued to push.

"He won't", you stated, rising up from your chair, handbag now in your grip. It was three minutes until your driver would be here, so you needed to start heading down to the spot he would pick you up in. Yet, you were stopped in your tracks by a hand gripping your upper arm lightly.

"But what if?"

"T'Challa!" Shuri hissed at the unrespectful way her brother insisted on having his questions answered. She'd shot up from where she up until now had remained seated but before she could drag the man staring down at you with insistent eyes away, your raised the hand of your free arm. It stopped the younger women's movement, merely making her watch you and T'Challa.

There was a reason the siblings were able to run their tech operation as smoothly as they did. They complemented each other. What one lacked, the other possessed. For example, Shuri may own the belief everything was possible, then naturally, her brother would be more cautious. As in this instance. Hence, you didn't take any great offence to the dark-haired man's action, despite that your aloof tone could imply such a thing.

"What if he doesn't accept my deal after having me listen to whatever godawful settlement he offers me? Then I've kept my promise on meeting him for the parley he requested and one, which in the end, unfortunately, didn't establish an accord. Henceforth, our war will continue", you said, instantly feeling how T'Challa's hand fell from holding you back. Yet, you didn't pursue your track to the pick up you already was late for. Not until you assured him of one last thing.

"Let me remind you that he was the one that asked me for a meeting, not the other way around. He asked me for a temporary truce and a chance to negotiate. In the end, that shows who's the most desperate to settle an agreement, no matter the terms".

Translation:

Lekati = Kitten

65 notes · View notes

servingy-nneeds · 4 years

Text

“Congrats For Staying Alive” (A Birthday Special)

January 18

Word count:1150

His day started just fine, being ordered around by his ego maniacal boss to cause some commotion downtown as a distraction while another group steals some important documents.

Well that was his initial plan before the pro heroes and cops started to swarm the burning building, taking it his cue to sneakily scamper away while they tried to deal with the damage done.

Well tried to anyway, before his favorite cop saw the tale tail sign of his coat’s tail disappearing from round the corner of a dingy alleyway.

Darting off where you saw his signature coat, leaving your seniors to deal with the aftermath, you called out seeing him walking leisurely along the alleyway, inspecting his surrounding.

“Villain Dabi in the name of the law I command you to hold your ground!” you shouted at him with his back turned towards you.

Stopping at his tracks he turned around looking back at you. Making a rapid assessment of the situation he quickly took note that you were in fact wearing a civilian’s clothes, carrying a box with a ribbon at the top and look at that no guns hanging off you ‘Off duty perhaps?’

“If it isn’t my favorite cop, Officer y/n. Didn’t mom and dad warn you ‘bout hanging around this part of town babe?” smirking while addressing you, he decided that you weren’t an immediate threat right now; he stalled you for a moment looking for any possible exits. Who knows if those idiotic heroes heard your commotion.

Catching sight of an exit located almost at your side he promptly made a scene trying to nerve you into backing down. “You know it just so happens that it is my birthday? So why don’t you come and give your favorite villain a birthday hug right now, for old time’s sake yeah?” he said slowly walking towards you arms wide open trying his luck.

Confused by the sudden invitation for hugs you took a step back quickly pulling out your handcuffs that you forgot to take out “I repeat stand down!”

Stopping at the entryway of his exit he looked at the handcuffs with a dead pan look that changed to a smirk. “Well aren’t you a kinky one? Inviting me with handcuffs, at a broad daylight, never knew you had it in you babe?”

Enjoying your flustered state for a moment, he ran off towards his exit determining that now is his opening.

Snapping out of your flustered state you quickly chased after him yelling out profanities and orders for him. Like hell he would hand himself to you easily, any other scenarios maybe, but not now.

Your little cat and mouse chase took at least half to an hour and would still go on for another hour if it weren’t for Dabi yelping and loosing his footing almost falling off a roof top building. Almost, if it weren’t for you yanking his coat effectively hauling him too,

Wheezing out a thanks, Dabi collapsed at the ground,groaning and waiting for you to just hand cuff him and haul his ass back to the prison. He wasn’t built for this endurance run shit.

Besides him you were there bending at your knees catching your breath, though not as much as your companion. The last of your fight and flight hormone used up when you dragged Dabi’s ass away from almost death.

“Can't we just call it quits?” you managed to breath out “I don’t think I have the energy....to keep you restraint...until we reach the station” you managed to say huffing and sitting besides his splayed out form.

“Does goody two shoes y/n has a crush on little ol' me?” he coughed out rather pathetically still trying to even out his breathing.

“DON’T PUSH IT” that definitely shut him up, instead letting him focus on catching his breath

Crouching down and taking out the box you were still busy carrying when you started out your chase you opened it revealing a tussled cake. “Shit” you mumbled out. The cake was supposed to be for your nephews birthday party tomorrow.

“Who’s?” Dabi asked sitting up from his previous position and scooting over to peer from above your shoulder.

“Nephew's, never mind that, I’ll just get him another one, don’t wanna waste this one so..”

Opening the cake now fully, you placed several of the pre ordered candle round the cake.

"Perfect! Now hand please" you said stretching out your said limbs to his direction.

Still partially confused at your request he beckons your order and firmly grasps your offered hand.

Confused by the sudden sensation of a calloused warm male hands holding yours. Looking at your joined hands you laughed it off quickly although you didn't shook off his hands.

"Not that! I need you to light these up" you said beckoning on the decorated cake.

Looking at you dead in the eyes as a response, you were pleasantly shocked and amused seeing him lighting each one of the seven candles with his other pinky finger. He secretly doesn't want to let go of the other hand.

Him finishing up the final touches of said cake, looking at his way you greeted him with a sincere grin "Happy Birthday Dabi! Congrats for staying alive"

Shocked and a bit flustered by your sudden outburst. From his crouched position he quickly dropped his head hiding his face on his other free arm hoping you wouldn't see how a small smile is slowly creeping on his face.

"Fuck you y/n, how am I suppose to kill you now?" he mumbled out to you still hiding his face.

"You're welcome, and in my defense we both should had been at each other's throat right now but here we are. So are you gonna blow the cake or not birthday boy?"

Grumbling out some curses in your direction he lifted his head and proceeded to put out all of the candles in a single blow.

Removing your hand from his grasp, which earned an angry grumble from him, you offered him one of the several sporks the cake had come up with.

Silence had enveloped the two of you with minutes ticking away while the two of you devoured the cake piece by piece, Dabi taking larger amounts compared to yours.

'Sweet tooth perhaps?'

"You know how fuck up this situation is right?" you ask him, earning a shrug from him, seemingly agreeing with your idea.

"In another alternate timeline we could have been a couple you know?" you continued voicing out your thoughts to him looking in his direction hoping to catch him off guard.

Stopping at his constant pokes at the cake he looked at you dead in eye, then grinning like a cat that got the canary.

"Who said we couldn't date right now?"

...

"Dabi I can see some chunks of chocolate hiding in your teeth"

"Fuck you"

Best. Birthday. Ever.

A late birthday special for our favorite pyromaniac

#bnha x reader #imagines #dabi x reader #reader insert #bnha imagines #servingy/nneeds

88 notes · View notes

fandomlurker · 4 years

Text

A Ponderous Rewatch: Bubba Bo Bob Brain and Cameo

Can I just say that I think I’m somehow getting worse at keeping the screenshot count down?

Neither the cameo nor the main episode in this post are animated by TMS, so that’s not the reason for the surprisingly high screenshot count. However, the regular episode is animated by Wang Film Production, who are the same folks that animated the very first PatB segment and have done most of the episodes I’ve covered so far, including the previous one. I can tell they’ve gotten a better handle at animating our main duo in the skit we’re looking at today, especially Brain. Wang Film Production is no TMS, but they’ve gotten very, very good at expressions. They’ve also seemed to settle into a rounded and soft design for Brain, something that they’re kind of known for among fans if I recall correctly. Pinky can still be a little…off at this point in time, though.

Moving on, the cameo that we’re starting with is animated by Akom Film Productions. They’re the folks who usually do the animation for the Chicken Boo and Goodfeathers episodes, and they usually do a pretty good job with those characters. As far as our mouse duo go, though, Akom has only done “Opportunity Knox” so far. You know, the one with the oddly nightmarish Brain close-ups. Thankfully we get none of that since it’s only a short bit.

So yes, onto the cameo in “Noah’s Lark”!

So this is actually a Hip Hippos episode, but luckily we don’t have to deal with them at all right now. The premise is the story of Noah’s Ark, obviously, but the character of Noah is done as a parody of the stand-up comedian Richard Lewis, who was somewhat popular in the 80s. The most modern and notable media he’s been involved in that people on Tumblr might know him from (or at least, what I think folks here might recognize, it can be a little hard to gauge that since both millennials and gen z folks are the main demographic of this site) are Robin Hood: Men in Tights where he played Prince John, and Curb Your Enthusiasm where he plays himself.

Noah is rounding up two of every animal to go onto the ark (which is a popular depiction of how the story goes, but is actually false: it’s supposed to be seven male and female pairs of “clean” animals of each species and one pair of “unclean” animals of the same species, but that’s as far as I’m going into that topic). He’s nearly finished the list and has just been mauled by the wolverine pair, and…

“Lab mice?...”

The fact that he’s specifically asking for a pair of lab mice raises a lot of questions that I don’t think we have time to unpack.

The pair of lab mice that he gets is, of course, Pinky and the Brain.

And Pinky is, for the very first time in the series, crossdressing, presumably to pass as a female mouse so he and Brain can survive the great flood by boarding the ark.

…This is also a lot to unpack.

“Check!” they both exclaim, although Pinky does it in a very deep voice for some reason.

Wow, look at the surprise and then hostile suspicion on Noah’s face there!

Their outfits are very 1950s, with Brain even carrying a suitcase. Anachronisms aside, these two really went all out for the “we are a normal, heterosexual pair” ruse, didn’t they? Not only is Pinky in a dress and a blonde wig, but Brain even put on a little bowler hat. Why did he feel the need to do that? Did he feel left out of dressing up otherwise? Was he afraid he wouldn’t look “manly” and hetero enough without it? I have so many questions…

“Whew! These pantyhose are killing me, Brain!”

Wow, for once it’s Pinky physically hurting Brain, even if it’s a relatively minor tug on the ear.

“I think I prefer knee-highs…”

…Pinky, you’re not even wearing pantyhose. What the hell are you talking about?

Assuming that this is just the result of an animation oversight (which, honestly, I’m certain it was), we now know that his disguise went so over-the-top as to include pantyhose which Noah wouldn’t normally see…and also it’s a type of pantyhose that Pinky doesn’t even like wearing, which implies to me that this is something Brain acquired for him.

There is just so much going on in cameos like these if you think about them for even a few seconds.

Also, I agree with Pinky. Knee-high pantyhose are much less uncomfortable to wear.

BONK!

So the mice are allowed to board and the audience is left to think that their little ruse worked, but immediately after the two run off and are out of listening range Noah rolls his eyes and says

“Who am I to judge?”

Heavily implying Noah completely saw through it and let them on anyway. Wow.

That’s the end of their cameo. Who’d have thought that this little scene would be the precursor to Brain having Pinky crossdress to disguise him as Brain’s wife so many times in the series? And who’d have thought that this very first time wouldn’t fool anyone at all?

But now let’s move on to the meat of this rewatch post:

We open to Acme Labs at night, as usual, though I’ve never noticed until now how lonely and eerie the place seems if you ignore our mouse duo.

“Pinky… I believe I have conceived my most brilliant plan to date!”

Oh boy, we have another first for today! Brain is very much a fan of using temporary mind control for his plans. It’s the method he falls back on the most, which is very interesting when you consider his various psychological issues involving having control taken away from him all his life.

“I shall use subliminal mind control to take over the world!”

“…Pinky?”

The hand-on-hip pose here is great.

“Today’s inside story is country mega-star Willie Ray Cypress!”

Uh, Pinky? Considering that this is pretty much the expression you had while looking at Pharfignewton, I am very, very worried about you looking at the Billy Ray Cyrus parody the same way.

“Don’t tell my head, my empty hollow head!~”

“You know I wouldn’t understand!~”

Same, Brain. Same. It’s just like Pinky to enjoy a song as earworm-y as this (not to mention how relevant this parody is to his everyday experience with Brain’s plans), but lord was the real song this is making fun of annoying as hell back in the day. Like, I was a small child at the time this song came out, and I still hated how often this would be played on the radio.

Luckily, Brain pounces on the remote’s off button and puts an end to the nonsense.

But oh, the look of sad betrayal on Pinky’s face is heartbreaking! I’m sorry, sweetie!

“It must be inordinately taxing to be such a boob.”

Heh, Brain said “boob”. /inner six year old

“You have no idea…”

“Pinky, do you know what a subliminal message is?”

“Something you leave on a subliminal telephone answering machine?”

Nice try, Pinky.

“No. It is a recorded message perceived only by the subconscious human mind.”

Two things here:

This diagram bothers me because my mind always interprets the way they’ve drawn the bottom of the cerebellum as the person shutting their eyes extremely tightly.

Brain using his own tail as a pointing stick is very, very cute and I love this detail.

“I have recorded such a message.”

He’s still holding his tail, aaaa!~

“Citizens of the world, you are under my control. You will do whatever I say…”

“Nice mix, but it’s not exactly danceable, is it?”

Oh, Pinky. Only you would sincerely compliment Brain’s incredibly dry mind control message and then immediately point out a flaw that has nothing to do with its purpose. Bless you, you stupid and wonderful little mouse.

I like how Pinky’s interjection startles the hell outta Brain for a moment, too.

“If people heard this message enough times, they would succumb to my control and we could take over the world!”

Notice that despite Pinky being a minor annoyance and despite the fact that Brain claims that everyone will be under his control, yet again it’s still both of them taking over the world.

“What do you think, Pinky?”

And he still wants Pinky’s input. It’s small and scattered and very, very subtle, but in my opinion this is Brain’s most frequent way of showing that he cares about Pinky. Brain likely isn’t even aware that he does it. Pinky might not be aware, either.

“I think I’m getting dizzy and I rather like it! Ahahahahahoo!~”

“Sometimes you hurt my head, Pinky…”

And yet, Brain. And yet…

“The only problem: How to get this message repeated worldwide airplay…?”

Offscreen, Pinky turns the TV back on and startles Brain again, but only for a moment.

Another great pose and expression here: Mildly annoyed, but interested and on the verge of an idea.

“I just adore Willie Ray!”

“I listen to his song twenty times a day!”

I…really don’t know why they chose to have this shot done with Brain walking over the “camera” towards the TV so we get a brief close-up of Brain’s mousey behind. It made me laugh, though, so I thought I’d share.

“Pinky… Are you pondering what I’m pondering?”

I’m also kind of obsessed with this brief expression of Pinky’s I unintentionally managed to capture. It’s a bit of a smug, knowing, and yet endeared look. I’m sure it’s completely unintentional on the animators’ part, but I love the idea it gives me of Pinky knowing exactly what Brain’s thinking but purposefully saying something entirely unrelated to playfully tease him.

“Well, I think so, Brain, but burlap chafes me so.”

To be fair, Pinky, I think burlap chafes everyone. And were you thinking about doing a potato sack race? That’s the only connection to burlap I can think of that would be in any way relevant...

“Country music, Pinky. I will go to Nashville and become the biggest country music star of all time! Everyone will hear my record and my subliminal message and I will take over the world!”

In all honesty, that would probably be easier to do in the early 90s when this takes place since country music wasn’t such a…well, “dead” is a bit of an exaggeration, but country music as a genre is incredibly unpopular nowadays with the occasional notable exception. In the early 90s? Not so much.

“Egad, Brain!”

This is the most enthusiastic swoon I’ve seen and heard from you yet, Pinky.

“Oh! But no, no… It takes people years of hard work to become famous, Brain.”

Well, that or they’re born into a famous family. Or they’re just rich.

“Why, take Kathie Lee Gifford for example: She did community theatre, and—“

I actually can’t find anything via Googling about Kathie Lee doing community theatre before she became famous. She seems to have studied music and drama in university, and had a folk music group in high school, but the only reference to theatre I can find is professional musical theatre in the late 90s.

It’s possible Pinky’s right, though.

BONK!

BRAIN! …Wait, where did you even get that tiny club?

“Stop talking, Pinky, I must think.”

You… Brain, I think I’m starting to see why some fans believe you may be as neurodivergent as Pinky is, but in a different way. I can’t in good faith elaborate on that myself, since I haven’t been diagnosed as such and it would be completely disrespectful of me to do so, but if anyone wants a good little theory on that, try here.

“I have calculated every ingredient necessary to become a country music mega-star. Read me the list, Pinky!”

He’s typing by hopping from one key to another, aww!

Eeeh, the lettering work on that computer is pretty bad, though.

“A cowboy hat.”

“Check!”

“A southern dialect.”

“Check, ya’ll!”

“Nice, Brain.”

The way Pinky says “nice” here reminds me of this meme. Also, aww, Pinky’s always ready with the compliments.

“Working class values…”

“I enjoy beef jerky and the comedy stylings of Gallagher. Check.”

His visible cringe at having to say he enjoys Gallagher is wonderful. I first heard about Gallagher through My Brother, My Brother and Me, but for anyone that doesn’t know, Gallagher is a frankly terrible prop comedian whose most famous act was smashing things on stage (usually fruits of increasing size) with a large mallet that he called the “Sledge-O-Matic”, ending with smashing a watermelon. It was apparently a mildly popular bit of comedy in the south. Does that sound entertaining? No? Yeah, that’s…that’s why Brain is cringing so hard.

“A song.”

“Check!”

A song titled “A Song”. Brain, sweetheart, I think you’re going to need to put in a little more effort than that.

“A name consisting of not less than three words.”

“From now on, I shall be ‘Bubba Bo Bob Brain’. Check.”

I would make fun of him for this name, but honestly it’s kind of genius in its bland simplicity.

“And…a height of at least six feet!”

“Aaa--guebuh…”

Whoops. Forgot about that one, huh?

“Drat!”

“There must be some way for me to increase my height…”

Gee, if only you had a fully operational mechanical human suit just laying around.

“Hmm, let me think…”

“Don’t hurt yourself, Pinky.”

He is trying his best!

“Faster, Pinky! Faster!”

…Why does Pinky have to spin the thread? The whole point of sewing machines like this is that they’re powered electrically, Brain. Are you just making him do this so Pinky feels included?

Oh. Oh no…

Brain’s “WTF?” face is great. He’s surprised and yet not at the same time, because things like this just happen when you have Pinky around.

“You amaze me, Pinky.”

“I do my best…”

A very cute exchange.

So instead of using the mechanical human suit they usually fall back on in times like these (maybe it’s under six feet tall?), the mice instead come up with…this.

“Proceed, Pinky.”

I have to give them some credit, regardless of how ridiculous this is, as sewing denim to make a very bizarrely thin and tall pair of jeans must have been an absolute nightmare.

“Ki-yi-yippee-yi-yo. How do I look?”

I’m getting flashbacks to the similarly deadpan singing of “Camptown Races” from last episode. Brain’s really on a western kick lately, isn’t he?

“Oh, very nice, Brain!”

Your finger-framing may be focused on the back of Brain’s head for some reason, Pinky, but your pupils are definitely pointed a bit…lower.

“It’s ‘Bubba Bo Bob Brain’.”

“You are my manager, Colonel Pinky.”

This is a reference to Elvis Presley’s manager, Colonel Tom Parker, who was honestly quite the bungler when it came to managing Elvis’ career. I honestly don’t think Brain’s making a subtle jab at Pinky’s competency here for once because Brain’s grasp of pop culture he’s not already interested in is surface level at best most of the time.

“You discovered me playing the guitar on the front porch of my humble pig farm. Any questions?”

“Oh, just one: When you farm humble pigs, how far apart do you have to plant them?”

“…If I could reach you, I would hurt you.”

Hey now, you’re the one that asked, Brain.

“But for now, on to Nashville!”

“On to Nashville!”

BONK!

“This is a pain that is going to linger…”

That’s what you get for rolling your eyes at Pinky’s enthusiasm.

No perilous car trips this time! Instead, the boys are getting bus tickets to Nashville.

“Two tickets to Nashville, please.”

“Ooh-wee!~ You’re a tall drink a’ water, aint’cha, darlin’?”

…Ma’am? Excuse me, ma’am? Ma’am, are you flirting with The Brain?

Like, sorry, that “tall drink of water” saying is not just to point out that someone’s tall. It’s specifically for flirting with someone who is tall and gorgeous and a refreshing sight to see, like a tall glass of water on a hot summer day.

This lady is flirting with a mouse on stilt legs.

I know that Brain’s disguises are prone to inexplicably work even when by all rights they shouldn’t, but…

“Actually, I am a lab mouse on stilts.”

Brain does his usual bold and plain truth shtick and I’m a little surprised that he didn’t react to what she said beyond that. Then again, this is Brain and he’s quite terrible when talking to women in general, so maybe we dodged a bullet here.

“…At least he didn’t ask me to pull his finger.”

I’ve worked in retail and food service for years, ma’am, and if that’s the extent of your experience with unpleasant men, consider yourself lucky.

“EGAD, Bibby-boo-bop-Brain! Round trips are so exciting!”

“It’s ‘Bubba Bo Bob Brain’, Pinky.”

“Right! Sorry. Zort!”

Honestly, Pinky’s version is much cuter.

“Concentrate, Pinky, concentrate!”

BONK!

“YES! This pain will definitely be with me a while.”

Brain out here looking like a bad Minecraft texture.

Hello again, Warner Siblings! Gosh, that little fringed western skirt on Dot is cute.

“’The Rowdy Ranch Nightclub’… What are we doing here, Boobie-baa-baa-Brain?”

I checked the official subtitles for this and yes, that is exactly what he mistakenly calls Brain here. We have had both of these two call each other “boob” or some permutation of it this episode.

Pinky and the Brain sure is a show that exists.

“…It’s ‘Bubba Bo Bob’ Brain. And according to statistics, and inordinate number of country western superstars have gotten their start at this very establishment.”

You probably didn’t need me to tell you this, but there’s no Rowdy Ranch Nightclub in real life. There is, however, “The Rowdy Ranch”, uh, ranch in Texas.

“Egad! [gasp] Do you suppose Minnie Pearl performed here?”

“One can only hope…”

Man, Brain, you are really laying the sarcasm on thick this episode. Come to think of it, he’s been slightly more sassy towards Pinky than usual this episode as well. I suppose he’s still sore about the end of the last one. You know, for reasons.

BONK!

At least he’s getting some karmic punishment for it, I guess.

“I am a telephone repairman from this area!~”

This little ditty this man is singing has bugged the hell out of me for quite a while, as it certainly sounds like it’s a reference to something but I never knew exactly what it was referring to until just now thanks to an old Animaniacs Usenet group from way back in the day: It’s a parody of the song “Whichita Lineman” by Glenn Campbell. The writers are really giving it their all with the pop culture references this time.

“When I give the signal, play the subliminal message tape.”

“Right-o, Bippie Bebop Balloola!”

“…Sometimes you frighten me, Pinky.”

Why, though?! Despite it being a mistake it’s honestly a goddamn adorable one. Why must you fear affectionate, innocent, unknowing malapropisms, Brain? Pinky’s still going to do what you told him to.

Anyway, Brain is ushered onto the stage as a newcomer and he’s…not exactly any more eloquent than Pinky was just now.

“Howdy, you all. Here’s a little…ditty I wrote. Hope you enjoy it…you all.”

Here’s the thing: Brain’s not one to get stage fright, and while he’s not the best actor he’s still usually better than this. He was saying “ya’ll” and getting the country-isms perfectly fine beforehand, although he was still doing it in his deadpan Brain way.

Now, suddenly, after hearing Pinky cutely screw up his fake name and going on stage he’s starting to mess up. It’s like Pinky’s error is still in the back of his mind and flustering him enough to throw him off for a bit.

He gets back into the swing of things when he starts singing his song, though.

“I am a lab mouse, I escaped from my cage

Never had a job, never earned minimum wage.~”

“He ain’t half bad.”

“Ain’t half good, either.”

OUCH. That’s a little harsh. Sure, the lyrics are kinda blah but he’s a decent singer here. Really, it’s just not a genre of music that his voice fits very well.

Also, lady? You’ve got a suspiciously busty doppleganger in the back there. That’s got to be a bad omen for you.

“But you will respect me, YES, once my plan is unfurled!~

You will call me your leader, I’ll be king of the world!~”

Careful, Brain. Your complicated emotional complex is starting to show in those lyrics.

There’s some more nice facial expressions here too. I can’t really capture it with still images, but Brain’s got a very tender demeanor when he sings about being king of the world.

“Now, Pinky!”

…I just noticed that Pinky’s wearing a completely different outfit here at the nightclub than he was when boarding the bus to get to Nashville. He was previously in an all-white colonel outfit and now he’s in a more generic yet very sweet cowboy get-up. Did you make yourself an entire wardrobe, Pinky?

Another minor detail is that while Pinky’s cowboy hat is a generic tan colour (although before, it was white), Brain’s hat is completely black, which as per western film traditions marks him as a clear villain.

You and I know he’s not really a villain and is, at worst, an anti-villain…but I thought this was worth pointing out anyway.

“Citizens of the world, you are under my control. You will do whatever I say.”

I love how he does this completely unneeded strum on his guitar in the middle of his subliminal message. It's for the drama!

“Buy my record and listen to it twenty times a day.”

Corporations be like…

Who am I kidding? Corporations nowadays would have you pay a fee monthly to have a song on your phone playlist and you would never really own a copy.

“Let’s buy his record…”

“And listen to it twenty times a day…”

Lady, that doppleganger is still over there. Do you need a distraction while you sneak out the back?

This smug lil’ jerk. Gotta love him, though.

And so Brain’s cassette tapes fly off the shelves at record speed.

Man. Cassette tapes. I feel so fuckin’ old…

“I don’t know ‘bout ya’ll, but I can’t get enough of Bubba Bo Bob Brain. Let’s hear it again!”

JFC, that spittoon. Blegh! And just what do you need that rope for?!?

“Well, he’s the hottest thing to hit Nashville since my mama’s jalapeno grits! Here’s Bubba Bo Bob Brain!”

Having just recently learned what exactly “grits” is, I am very disturbed by the idea of jalapeno grits.

“I’m your biggest fan! What d’you say to that?”

Hi, Dolly Parton! I’ve gotta say that the animators nailed the caricature of 90s Dolly here pretty well. She’s instantly recognizable, unlike some other celebrity parodies Animaniacs does. It’s not just because of Dolly’s, uh…most renowned physical characteristics, either. That’s a very Dolly Parton smiling face.

Not much to say here other than that Dolly’s a sweetheart of a woman, from what I know about her, especially for a celebrity. She’s a staunch supporter of Covid relief and Black Lives Matter as well.

That said, she’s sadly—both in the 90s and now—most well known for…

“I’d say puberty was inordinately kind to you.”

BRAIN!

Well, yeah. That.

I guess now you can see what I mean about Brain not being very good at talking to women. Like, he’s definitely not ogling her here. In fact he’s just kind of…stating something he’s noticed and looking absolutely done with this whole celebrity thing. But Brain you don’t just make a joke like that about a woman’s bust size no matter how deadpan you do it, you ass!

“Haha, go on.”

She takes it well, though, just like Dolly seems to in reality.

Still, though! Brain, you retroactively deserved all those run-ins with doorframes.

Continuing on the buxom southern women thing this episode has decided to run with (seriously, what’s going on here?), we now have a brief parody of a Hee Haw skit.

“Hahahahaha!”

“Hey, Bubba Bo Bob Brain, I just got back from France!”

“How’d you find it?”

“I used a map.~”

“Hahahahaha!”

Yeah, that’s an accurate depiction of Hee Haw style humour.

“And the Country Tune Award for best male vocal goes to…”

“Bubba Bo Bob Brain!”

Here we have Garth Brooks and Crystal Gayle emceeing this awards ceremony. I had to look up who these two were supposed to be, though, since the caricatures are pretty vague this time.

“EGAD! YIPPEE! Narf! Ah hahahahahaha!”

Aww, he’s so happy for Brain! And oh, is that yet another outfit I see? And a much more appropriately sunshine-y yellow and flamboyant one at that! Pinky really went all-out for this.

Again with the tongue hanging out too, except this time it’s more understandable.

“You’re embarrassing me, Pinky.”

And you’re continuing to be a jerk, wow. Someone needs a nap or something.

“Pardon my effervescence, but your accolade is more than any bucolic mouse merits.”

“What’s he sayin’?”

“I don’t know.”

Yes, Brain just used the word “effervescence”, much like in that one Tumblr Twilight meme. To those reeling from the fact that this compares Edward to Brain via their shared pretentiousness: You’re welcome.

Also, a Brain-to-common English translation: “Pardon my bubbly enthusiasm, but your award is more than any countryside mouse deserves.” Would that have been so hard to say, Brain?

“…I’d like to thank my mama and Elvis.”

I wouldn’t thank Elvis. He was an asshole. But that’s probably not wise to say at a 90s country music award show, so I guess it’s understandable.

“Oh, how nice!”

“Well isn’t that nice!”

“I’m outside the Grand Ol’ Opry, where tonight’s concert featuring country music sensation ‘Bubba Bo Bob Brain’ is being televised worldwide.”

“In two words: Bubba is hot!”

I… That’s twice in this episode where a human woman thinks a tiny, big-headed mouse on stilts is hot.

Furries, come get these poor, confused women.

“You gotta know how to cut ‘em

Know how to shuffle

Know how to deal the cards, before you play Fish with me.~”

Hello, Kenny Rogers. I only know the song parodied here, “The Gambler”, again through “My Brother, My Brother and Me” and the long and hilarious conversation about it.

It’s kind of weird to have a song that was made famous by Rogers in 1978 sung like it’s a recent hit in an early 90s awards show, but ehh. Maybe the shelf life of hit country songs is a lot longer than songs of other genres.

And then you die in your sleep~

“Do you realize what will happen if the world hears my song just one more time?”

“An angel will get its wings?!”

If only, Pinky.

“NO, Pinky!”

I think all this country stuff is really getting on Brain’s nerves. He’s being snappy and irritable and lashing out an abnormal amount ever since arriving in Nashville, and there’s not a lot of joy in the minor successes he’s had so far. Like, compare Brain smiling and praising Pinky for his work during the alien encounter spoof they did together, the last episode with Brain cheerfully singing to himself when he was certain he’d win the race…to now where he’s yelling at Pinky for minor mistakes that no one but himself is aware of and being joyless and faking pleasantries and rolling his eyes at the country stars he’s surrounded by. This mouse is crabby as all hell, and I don’t think it’s just because he finds the whole country western thing stupid and below him. This is a mouse who’s done and will continue to do degrading things to achieve his goal of world domination without this much jerkishness.

I think he’s still fuming about the whole Pharfignewton and Pinky thing, and the current plan being a very rural, country-focused plan like the last one with the Kentucky Derby is just exacerbating it by reminding him of it. Like, you don’t even have to take it in the gay way I am and instead take it in a “how dare that goddamn horse take the complete attention of my friend/world domination partner away from me and my plans, this sucks and I can’t believe Pinky’s just being his usual dumbass self like everything is fine and the same” sort of way.

But the gay way makes way more sense, fight me.

…Okay, don’t fight me, I’m tired and old and I really don’t want to get in internet fights about cartoon mice.

“My subliminal message will take permanent hold, and the world will be under my control!”

Ooof! We’re back down to “my” control and not “our”. Jeez, Brain. You really are spiraling right now, aren’t you? Your attitude has quickly devolved from the beginning of this episode...

“Oh, that.”

And dang, even Pinky’s enthusiasm is starting to get deflated.

“Now, do you remember what you have to do?”

“Yes. I need to make a dental appointment. I have horrible plaque buildup!”

Pinky, you do realize that unlike a regular, non-sapient mouse you can just brush your teeth, right?

“The tape, Pinky, the TAPE!”

“Oooh, right! When you give the signal, I play the tape.”

“And now, I’d like to introduce…”

“This is it, I’m on.”

“Good luck, Booba Bip Bop Brain!”

Folks, I swear to you that I tried to get a decent screencap of Pinky slapping Brain to figure out if he slapped his back or his ass and for the life of me I could not get it. The slap goes by just that fast and I’d honestly have to go frame by frame if I wanted to get it, but my video player will not go that slow.

Either way, Brain is certainly startled by the contact but is fixated more on the continued mangling of his fake name.

“How many times do I have to tell you, my name is--!”

Uhh, Brain? Getting a liiiittle close there.

“—Bubba Bo Bob Brain!” exclaims Kenny Rogers. And oh boy are these screencaps exploitable. Again, you’re welcome.

“Yee-haw! Let’s start this hootenanny!”

Better than last time you came out on stage to sing at a show, at least.

This time the crowd even sings along with him, and they’re not even hypnotized yet. Much better.

“Now, Pinky!”

“You are under my control, you will do whatever I say…”

“I will do whatever he says… Whatever he says… Whatever he says… Whatever he says…”

A confusingly consistent detail here: Every woman in the crowd has swirly red hypnotized eyes and every man in the crowd has swirly green hypnotized eyes. Why? Who knows!

“Way to go, Blubber Boo Bean Brain. Narf!”

Heh, that hand flip.

It looks like Pinky is trying hard to suppress his verbal tic here for some reason? Or maybe he’s just realized that he’s messed up the name again and is cringing in anticipation of Brain yelling at him? Either way, poor guy… You really don’t deserve any of what’s coming.

And what’s coming? Well, given Brain’s heightened pissy attitude and his mental issues with not having things go exactly the way he wants them to, plus his obsessive need this episode to correct Pinky on this one thing that doesn’t need to even be addressed because no one else hears it, plus other repressed emotions…

“Do me a favour and forget my name. While you’re at it, forget you ever knew me!”

Holy shit.

…Now you fucked up, Brain. Now you fucked up.

Man, I hate the one thick facial hair on the dude in the middle. It’s so unsettling.

“Hey, who’s that skinny guy on stage?”

“Who is he?”

“Get him off!”

“Boo!”

“We wanna see someone famous!”

Yup. Look at what you did. You messed this up all because you were having a temper tantrum about Pinky messing up your stupid false name. You hang that head in shame. And you apologize to Pinky.

Later...

“Tonight’s inside story: A complete unknown somehow made it on to the stage at the Grand Ol’ Opry.”

“…Turn that off, Pinky.”

You know what? Keep it on for a bit, Pinky. Let Brain wallow in this humiliation just a bit more. He needs to have the lesson set in.

“I’m trying to concentrate on a better plan for tomorrow night.”

“Why, Brain? What are we going to do tomorrow night?”

“Same thing we do every night, Pinky:”

“Try to take over the world!”

Hey wait just a minute! You can’t just reuse this excellent ending from “Win Big” on this episode! Brain doesn’t yet deserve to get back to being cocky and determined after being such an ass!

Ahh well. He does get better, folks, I promise. This is just a rough patch. Brain is… He’s going through some things, I think. He’s not processing his emotions in a healthy way and it’s really coming back to bite him.

Listen, I understand this whole thing with Brain being extra grumpy and hostile after the whole Pinky dating Pharfignewton thing is largely coincidence. We don’t actually know what order these episodes were made in, after all, and the Animaniacs writers were not big on continuity.

Here’s the thing, though: I still find it fascinating that these episodes were aired one after the other…especially with a random cameo with Pinky and Brain disguised as a married couple in between. It makes for the beginning of a strange sort of arc that occasionally reminds us that, hey, these two mice are a duo and something is amiss when that duo is broken up or there is a strain put on that relationship.

I’ve read that after a while, network executives at the time tried to push for these mice to settle down and have families and for the skits and the eventual spin-off to largely abandon the whole world domination thing. They wanted it to be more sitcom-like to rival and imitate shows like The Simpsons.

That obviously doesn’t work. It can’t work. The writers, especially Peter Hastings, very much pushed back against the idea. When you have a duo of characters who fit together and play off one another so well, when the basic premise of a story is of a pair of characters working together to achieve a goal, and when those characters just mesh so perfectly and basically complete one another…trying to add another main character just puts the entire story completely out of wack and/or changes it into something unrecognizable. You can add reoccurring characters off to the side, sure. You can have a nemesis or two pop up and return every now and again. But with something like Pinky and the Brain where the main story is a small pair against incredible odds working towards a singular goal, disrupting that core relationship is going to cause a domino effect that will ruin the whole thing.

All this to say that I like this approach that’s going on here much more, even if it was completely unintended by the creative team: There is the element added of Pinky, off-screen, dating someone. It’s not something that’s brought up a lot and whenever it is brought up, Brain is irritated. We’ve seen at the end of the last episode where this development was introduced that Brain is unusually snappy, and now in the next episode he continues to be angry more often than he was before. It’s a more subtle and smooth way of seeing how these characters react if something or someone threatens to come between them, in a way that doesn’t immediately break the entire premise to pieces. Of course, it helps that Pharfignewton is…largely absent for all this and is only brought up every now and again. It’s not a perfect way to explore this kind of thing, but it’s preferable when compared to something like Pinky, Elymra, and The Brain.

However, after this episode Brain’s temper begins to de-escalate, and we won’t pick back up on this accidental “arc” for a few episodes. So to folks who are maybe a little bit bummed out about his behaviour here: don’t worry. We’re getting quite the breather next time with a very odd alternate universe skit courtesy of the Warner Siblings messing around with character placement, as well as an entire Animaniacs episode devoted to a Pinky and the Brain skit…fantasy style!

#Pinky and the Brain #PatB #Bubba Bo Bob Brain

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fencesandfrogs · 4 years

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cloudtail’s daughter: cinderheart

alright well third character: cinderheart.

i'm going to be honest, i don't care enough about cinderheart to have a lot to say about this. i'm finishing it in the morning, and i'm starting it in night, so watch this be longer than dovewing's (fat chance i wrote like 4k words about dovewing because, and i can't say this enough, i lovewing dovewing), but i'm not feeling particularly inspired at the moment.

ohhh wait i changed my mind this is the one where i get to talk about cinderpelt again, isn't it? yeessss i take it all back i've been waiting to write this since i first wrote cinder back in dovewing's character

anyway as per usual, this is part of an au where dovekit and ivykit are born to brightheart and cloudtail. go ahead and click the cloudtail's daughter tag if you want to see more about this. this is probably pretty dependent on knowing what happens to dovewing in the au, but i'd say compared to lionblaze, its still more self standing because it's significantly more verbose, so it's not reliant on filling in the gaps as much, because this is filling in the gaps.

[3k words, 10 minute read. section headers. a little bit jumpy.]

section one: cinderpelt and cinderkit --- an exposé on reincarnation

you don't need me to tell you warriors reincarnation is weird. to make my life easy, here is how it works:

true reincarnations -- jay's wing/jayfeather, dove's wing/dovewing, lion's roar/lionblaze. only one soul exists. half moon will reunite with jayfeather. or ig he can decide to go by jay's wing. dovewing and lionblaze may or may not regain their memories on death; it's not important to this story so i'm not decided

starclan induced reincarnations -- cinderpelt's soul gets shoved into cinderkit. they now share. this was, ah, very dangerous, because cinderkit and/or cinderkit's soul could have died. but she didn't. as cinderkit grows into her own person, she and cinderpelt will grow either increasingly intertwined (i.e., cinderpelt weaves into cinderheart, and is never fully awakened.) when they die, idk what happens. it's not very nice.

luckily, that didn't happen. instead, cinderheart grows apart and cinderpelt basically is a voice in her head. eventually, at some point, idk, cinderpelt frees herself. i'm sure i'll figure that out in this post, but i don't know yet.

so that's their deal.

section two: cinderheart and lionblaze

alright, cinderheart and lionblaze are not going to be a conflict thing, because of destiny. i'm just, that's. well it's a step up from the standard romance drama, but i still hated it. so anyway, cinderheart knows lionblaze is in L-O-V-E with her, but she's kind of holding out until he's more mature/responsible.

she's also not ready for kits, and that's the only way a warriors romance can be officially codified.

jk, but in seriousness, they're already close, similar to sandstorm and fireheart in books 2-4 or so of TPB. she's just not ready to take him as a mate yet, and he's kind of funny as a bumbling fool. that said, she does care a lot about him and if he pushed her, or circumstances pushed her, she'd be willing to be upfront about it.

cinderpelt is happy cinderheart is finding love, but she does kind of wish it wasn't with lionblaze. not because he's an idiot, after all, cinderpelt had a crush on fireheart before he finished growing a brain, but because she is worried about the prophecy. and lionblaze dying and leaving cinderheart alone. so cinderheart has some internal conflict about this, but she has internal conflict over whether she wants thrush or mouse some days. side effect of having two souls in one body. she keeps it wrapped up because she's pretty sure she's into lionblaze and cinderpelt is unsure, and she doesn't need to confuse the situation anymore.

yeah, by the time this series begins, cinderheart and cinderpelt are really two separate entities, and cinderpelt is getting ready to leave. she's just sort of waiting. it's until cinderheart and lionblaze confirm they're mates. why? because that's when it happens in the original and i can't think of a better time. also, it kind of completes cinderpelt's small crush on fireheart.

(it really wasn't that big. sandstorm just made a big deal out of it because she was jealous.)

section three: dovepaw

right, so cinderheart is hype for dovepaw. the dovepaw is real sweet and quiet and cinderheart feels good about that. so they're excited.

cinderheart and dovepaw go out for territory and cinderheart is like "she's on top of shit this dovepaw" and dovepaw catches a mouse or two and cinderheart is super proud and supportive and everyone is happy.

and then cinderheart starts to feel like she's failing dovepaw, because dovepaw just can't get anything else down. lionblaze and ivypaw, on the other hand, are having basically no issues. so she feels like she's failing dovepaw, and she's a little insecure about that, so cinderheart and dovepaw tag along with lionblaze and ivypaw a lot.

as you can guess, this makes everything worse.

cinderheart realizes dovepaw is sneaking out at night and is like "well this is a problem i'm not equipped to deal with" and frets over it for a while, unsure of who to talk to without geting dovepaw in trouble. (lionblaze also snuck out as an apprentice, he's an unreliable source.)

so she doesn't tell anyone at first, just makes sure dovepaw is still getting sufficient rest for a young cat. (she isn't.) eventually, she lets it slip to hollyleaf who talks about it with lionblaze who ivypaw overhears, but ivypaw is the last character i'm covering in this set of essays.

dovepaw gets trapped in the tunnels for three days, and cinderheart feels like she's failed her charge. also, brightheart is kind of mad at cinderheart because she feels that cinderheart didn't really do anything to stop dovepaw from feeling like she needed to prove herself and like, brightheart's not wrong, but it's also unfair to cinderheart. so cinderheart blames herself a whole lot because dovepaw is dead now and it's her fault.

when dovepaw gets back cinderheart only barely punishes her, and dovepaw has had enough exploration, so being confined to camp is only barely a punishment anyway. cinderheart vows that she's going to do better, do right, by dovepaw (although she's really been doing pretty okay no one is really blaming cinderheart, even brightheart has gotten over it now that dovepaw is back and safe and alive.)

section four: can you hear what i hear?

so when dovepaw gets back, cinderheart takes her out once she's recovered, and dovepaw is like "so where are the creatures with the clicky-clackies?" and cinderheart has no idea what's going on.

but cinderheart, despite being lumped in the "two braincells" category that the first three pov characters have (seriously if you haven't read my breakdown of this au as a whole you may want to because i've written so much for it that i'm definitely skipping details. now that my pace has slowed from "about 10k words in one weekend" to "2k words a day" it's better but still), is not an idiot. she's seen the lake get smaller. times are getting hard. there was a gathering while dovepaw was in the tunnels that cinderheart went to and it was real rough. so she's like. hm. maybe. dovepaw is starclan chosen or something? it would explain why she's spacy all the time.

cinderheart gets all the info she can from dovepaw and then has to figure out whether she's taking this to firestar or jayfeather.

i'm not 100% how this resolves, but eventually, cinderheart and dovepaw go to firestar to discuss the beavers. cinderheart does most of the talking, dovepaw is just kind of there nodding along.

so the standard canon thing happens and they all get ready for the trip. i feel like i've done a pretty in-depth breakdown of this for dovewing, and hollyleaf will get one too, so i'm just going to say, other than hollyleaf also coming, it's pretty much canon.

section five: the tribe

oh man it's the cinderheart book and whoo boy am i excited for this one.

alright alright alright so dovepaw is doing the Late Nights again, but its to see tigerheart. so cinderheart is uh, not very aware of it this time?

dovepaw is older and smarter (barely) and more importantly knows she can’t get caught again.

so dovepaw real tired, real close to tigerheart at gatherings, and cinderheart is like “hm maybe something is up” and cinderpelt is like “yeah keep an eye on that”

(an aside: so cinderpelt’s presence is kind of a nagging one in cinderheart’s life. it’s not that she’s not the same cinderpelt we know and love, but she’s a kind of omnipresent authority figure, so she reads a bit differently. but she’s still our wonderful cinderpelt. no fear.)

and ivypaw tells lionblaze that dovepaw is sneaking out (see here for lionblaze, literally 0 awareness) and he tells cinderheart and cinderheart is like “well that checks” and cinderpelt is like “hm remember fernpaw and dustpelt”

“ferncloud is like a second mother to me no i don’t know the details of her romance”

“yea well...”

you know, cinderheart's almost worried dovepaw is going to have kits real soon after becoming a warrior and there are approximately 0 thunderclan toms she's close enough with for that to be applicable.

(for the record, they are not that close. cinderpelt is concerned not just because forbidden romance, but also because of how young leafpool was. not impossibly young by any means, but still fairly young.)

so then through uhhh who knows memory? convenient stormfur is convenient? haven't decided yet, but anyway, cinderheart decides the tribe can help them. (the real reason is because i want the tribe to solve a clan problem for once. the stated reason is probably something like "dovepaw feels too much pressure after the beavers" or "long journeys are good for apprentices" i mean look brambestar dgaf about where warriors are going so why should i?)

lionblaze and ivypaw come along and cinderheart is like "great i just told this guy that i don't want to change anything between us until i'm done mentoring dovepaw and now he's tagging along with this? where's a hollyleaf when you need her?"

(hollyleaf is living with her ghost boyfriend, cinderheart, she is no longer a reliable source of buffering between you and lionblaze. also, cinderheart, this isn't coming up in this au because again ending in step with canon but please consider: lesbians.)

anyway, the four of them set out and dovepaw and ivypaw still aren't talking which is getting really old, really fast.

eventually, after a day or two of travelling in basically silence, ivypaw and dovepaw do start to talk again. one goal down. (my conviction that travelling books are good, actually, remains untested, but i'm determined to prove it.)

okay, so i've been reading all my notes in detail as i start actually drafting this, which means my essay content is morphing further into writing notes. you can tell because i'm skipping bigger sections, or adding notes about purpose in story, etc. this is just a warning that since i last worked on this, i've actually begun writing the book this stuff takes place in (the first book only matters if you're dovekit or ivykit, so the fact that i'm writing it doesn't really have an effect. i just wanted to start with something low-stakes.) so like, on one hand, i should have more figured out, but on the other hand, my comments are going to be a lot looser and i wouldn't be surprised if i just straight up contradict something i already said (i do edit my posts but not heavily and only if i think they're something i'm going to point people back towards. i'd rather point people to my archive once i start posting, so.) anyway, this is just a warning for this and anything else in the CTD essay series (hollyleaf, jayfeather, ivypool, as well as the books, growing shadows, fading echoes, distant whispers, and whatever the canon names are but switch book 4 and 5), that it's going to be less "here's a summary of what i'm going to do" and more "here are my thoughts about what i'm doing"

right that note aside, the travelling party makes it to the mountains. there's drama, probably? none of them have been to the mountains IIRC? i know jayfeather has but i don't think the others went with him (bramble did? hm i'll have to research) but okay so the point is, they make it to the tribe as the mountain is getting colder and this is where i have to deviate from my trend of realism the most because they're going to stay on the tribe for much longer than they should. my timeline has ivy/dove born in leafbare at the beginning of the season (easier math), so this is early-mid leaf fall, and the mountain would be unpassable really soon. but i don't want that, so we're going to pretend they have 2-3 moons before it's truly impassable, or the story flows a lot worse because i really want the drought to be in green leaf because it just sets up a hard hitting winter which is a good tension/drama fodder machine.

unfortunately, i'm limited in who i can kill off, but what can you do?

right so anyway, they're in the tribe and cinderheart present dovepaw and stoneteller is like "huh ig this could work sure why not" and dovepaw is enlisted to be a tribe to-be. she's not given an offiical whatever the tribe word for mentor is, (does the tribe have individual mentors? i can't remember off the top of my head), but she's more or less the same as any othet tribe to-be. the fact that she's so fluffy is a bonus. keeps her warm.

cinderheart is less at-home in the tribe, but she works with the prey hunters and generally gets along. i'm not sure. maybe she makes friends? (this is literally her book she definitely does interesting things i just don't know who lives in the tribe off the top of my head. her life does not revolve around dovepaw like 100%. she has to sort out some cinderpelt stuff in this book it's just very internal and i'm not entirely sure how it goes yet.)

so cinderheart and dovepaw are doing their thing for a bit. they get a good chance to explore tribe culture. it's good. everything is good. cinderheart is still definitely mentoring dovepaw, but what that means right now is a lot of modeling how to be a good learner, rather than explicitly teaching. cinderheart herself is preparing and thinking about how to transfer these skills to thunderclan.

uh yeah so anyway it's getting close to winter so they gotta head out, and the tribe is like "off u go food is tight in leafbare/whatever-they-call-winter" and the four of them set out.

okay so i'm going to skip to cinderheart's second book, because honestly, arc one narrators all get thrown in BGCH until they're needed in arc 2. (i mean, tbf, jayfeather has done literally nothing in all of arc one. nothing. he's just there, occasionally being like "no firestar, don't make dovepaw my apprentice!" and that's pretty much it.)

and basically so while jayfeather and hollyleaf are off having ghost romances (that's the entire plot of their book it's ghost romance), cinderheart and lionblaze are just having a relationship. dovewing and ivypool are warriors now, so cinderheart does have background drama of being worried because dovewing is still seeing tigerheart ("we took her on a whole mountain vacation and she's still obsessed with him?"), but like, it's very chill for a while.

and then sol comes back.

oh man, sol comes back and it's gonna be a big deal. yeah. it's a big deal for cinderheart, and hopefully this will be an interesting section, because cinderheart is a very different character from the OG oots crew, and she's going to handle problems in a different way, and this is the first chance we get to see that. the beavers don't count she was j chilling with whatever dovepaw said and the tribe is certainly a good example of her character (caring, resourceful, outside the box), but that's the set up. sol is the pay off.

so cinderheart is pleased by sol, but also generally wary. you gotta remember, cinderheart has been on a lot of extra curricular field trips. she's met a lot of cats. (note to self: include more loners.) she's a quick judge of character. and sol, you know, he's a lot.

so she keeps an eye on him, and she expresses her concern to hollyleaf, and hollyleaf is like, yeah, sure, i'll help.

so hollyleaf is like "so by the way, sol is in the tunnels." and cinderheart is like "this is going to be a problem" and cinderpelt who is now in starclan is like "oh she's finally learning."

so i'm not entirely sure on the details here because i haven't plotted out the ending three books in nearly as much detail (i mean on the blog i have but in my head where i keep all the plot lines i haven't) but cinderheart is going to solve the problem and she'll do it in a different way.

thunderclan definitely still learns to fight in the tunnels because they need to for battle purposes. (oh, to be a windclan tunnler, looking down in sadness from starclan about what my clan has lost.)

and yeah leaving cinderheart here because she retreats to BGCH after completing her duty of being a meanful character.

cinderheart? done.

#lionblaze #dovewing #ivypool #hollyleaf #cinderheart #cloudtail's daughter #mine #q #txt #27th #February #2021 #February 27th 2021 #essay #long #lovewing dovewing #not really but also yes #28th #February 28th 2021

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hecohansen31 · 5 years

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Only Destiny Can Judge Us

Supreme! Michael Langdon+Alpha! (Female) Reader.

(A/N): Hello there lovelies!

This is kind of a take onto my Supreme! AU (it is completely different from the original one, since it is a different origins story, but it keeps up that plot).

Also it is based onto two asks that I received on the witches resurrecting Michael:

The witches resurrecting Michael to fight the antichrist 2.0. And he be like “you can eat my shit, you can defeat a bad bitch” attitude. Of course, they bring him back in their outpost form because he was more powerful in that form. Can u do that promp please??

outpost!Michael back from the dead helping the witches to defeat the new antichrist

As always, any kind of feedback, especially comments are welcomed, in order for my writing to get better and understand what you might truly be interested with!

Have a nice day and reading!

SUMMARY: The cycle that the prophecy spoke about is going to start again, and your nightmares are only the proof of how horrid it will all be again.

WORDS: 5,2 K

WARNINGS: Resurrection Talk, Violence, Non-Sexual Choking, Prophecy, AU; Unprotected (DO IT WITH PROTECTION, BABES!) Sex, Oral (Female Receiving) Sex, Fingering, Hate-To-Love.

You ran, holding your bleeding wound.

You knew that your efforts were useless: everything would be reset that night, but you knew it meant much more than Cordelia had planned.

You had discussed and fought with her about that.

‘‘Delia your plan won’t solve anything! We’ll have to fight another antichrist as soon as this one is buried! It is no use to run from destiny! We are just bringing this one further along the way, in a path of pain and loss’.

‘What do you know of pain and loss, little (Y/N)?’ had shot back arrogantly Cordelia, looking at you with desperation and pain ‘Have you lost your coven? Is the world in crumble underneath you?’.

‘I understand your grievances, ‘Delia, I do more than you think, and I tell you that this circle of pain and loss will just repeat itself if we don’t cut it with the proph…’.

‘You know exactly like me that those prophecies are nothing more than lies that get to those who have an open mind towards black magic. And let me tell you, little (Y/N), I didn’t think that you would be one of those’.

‘It’s to extreme remedies that this disgrace has brought us, ‘Delia’ you had mumbled, before you had dared more ‘… and at least my mind is open…”.

Cordelia had petrified you on the spot and her mind had become even more closed to your idea than it was before, hence you were running trying to suffocate the bleeding wound on your lower stomach, but you could already feel dizzy.

And you could already feel him coming onto you, and then a force smashed you against the closed wall, effectively bruising your back, meanwhile your nails tried to sink in the stone walls to calm the pain going through your wounded body.

But it wasn’t enough.

The healing enchantment died on your lips as Michael Langdon was onto you, his body slamming into yours, and kept you attached to the walls behind you, bruising further your back.

You let out a moan of pain and he smirked, pleased of how he was torturing you.

“You can’t outrun the destiny, little rabbit” he smirked with an evil glint in his eyes, as he brought your head up to meet his and you gritted your teeth together, both for the pain and the humiliation.

“I know that for sure” you knew better than anybody what would be happening that night “… in a few minutes I’ll be laying breathless and without a soul onto the floor”.

“I like girls who know what will happen to them and don’t run from it” he pushed an hand around your neck and you were unable to hide the goosebumps the cold touch created as he pushed it to tighten around your frail structure “… you aren’t like the others for sure”.

You knew it: you had always stuck out among the others as a sore thumb, but it had never mattered, because you hadn’t known what you knew now.

The antichrist would make the world crumble to pieces and the witches would fight it, they would destroy him, but they wouldn’t destroy the curse around it, creating and being stuck in a circle of rebirth and time-travelling, which was quite not useful for both the parties.

The grip onto your neck tightened.

“For this… knowledge of yours, little rabbit, I’ll allow you a bloodless death, you’ll die as pure as not many have, your body keeping the resemblance of the youth which has been stolen by those witches” he smirked, and suddenly your breath was stolen from your lungs.

You didn’t fight it, knowing all too well that to be truly reborn you would have to die, but still you couldn’t deny the scariness of the act, which brought your soul to lose his resoluteness.

Dying wasn’t a pretty look on you, although your death was the cleanest you had seen, amongst all your sisters.

And in Michael’s eyes, at the moment of weakness you had been having, tears shone.

You could feel and see a small boy, being scared of what he was doing, wanting desperately to stop what he was doing, but it was all his destiny had made him useful for.

The prophecy had done all of you dirty.

You woke up suddenly, the scream stuck in your throat and your hands went around it to search for the hands which had been choking you a few minutes before anything stopped and your eyes opened, revealing that you weren’t in an ancient manor anymore, but in your own dormitory at Hawthorne.

And you hadn’t been the only one awake at that cursed hour.

John Henry stood in the doorway of your room, probably having been left open, because you had fallen asleep onto your books (and you had quite the mark of it on your face) and hadn’t even been able to close it and reach the bed.

“How many times have I told you that reading those books before sleeping will give you nightmares?” he asked, although his tone held no bite to it, a slight worry being shown in the way he pawed around, wondering whether he should enter in your room or not.

And you simplified his choice offering him the chair next to you.

“And how many times have I told you that they are my nightmares to deal with?” you retorted, but quickly closed the elegant volumes you had been studying onto.

Since you had come to Hawthorne, in some kind of exchange study visit, you had been attracted by the darkest part of the library, where prophecies about the end of the world were written and held.

The nightmares hadn’t come with the prophetic books, they had actually started before.

For as long as you could remember what you dreamt and had a nightmares about, you had this horrifying thought about a man holding your throat, choking you till you lost your life to it, and you hadn’t been able to think about anything else.

You had tried any way to shoo them away, but they were more resilient than you might have thought and slowly your mind had taken them as a premonition of what was to come and your search through any prophetic book had pushed you to research a way out of them.

Which you still hadn’t found.

“They are not yours to deal with, when you scream loud enough to wake up any warlock in this wing of the palace” spoke back John, although again worry showed up in his eyes.

He had been the only teacher who had been willing to work with you, since you had arrived at Hawthorne: warlocks didn’t have a particular pendant for witches, even more when they knew all too well that you were there to keep an eye on them and their newest student, Devan Campbell.

You avoided Devan, like the plague, when you could, still: something about that boy wasn’t quite right.

“Are you enough pretentious to call all this shit a ‘palace’” you replied sarcastically, meanwhile you got up from your chair and moved your legs, which had grown rather sleepy and threatened your ability to actually walk to the bathroom to change.

“Was it the same dream again?” John Henry’s voice didn’t have any kind of amicable tone to it, and you couldn’t deny its seriousness with some sarcasm of your own, this time.

“What else would it be about?” you replied, lowering your eyes onto your hand, ink staining them and your ring catching the low light of the only candle surviving in the room, and you also made a mental point to light up another one, since you wouldn’t be able to sleep in the total darkness “… a game of cat and mouse, my knowledge that nothing will ever change and then… a beautiful man comes and chokes me to death… and the worst part is that… I feel pity for my murderer”.

“And you are sure that this is your future…?” you nodded slowly, and although John Henry hid it better than others, you saw that he was skeptic about the entire thing: who wouldn’t?

You didn’t have any ability in clairvoyance, hence you shouldn’t have been able to predict such a thing, even more when it hunted you without your control “… have you ever thought it might have been your past?”.

You now looked at him shocked.

“What do you mean?”.

John Henry shrugged off his jacket, to be more comfortable, since he knew this would take much more time than he had thought.

“Past lives are a bit more than people simply think them these days”.

“You are suggesting that what I am dreaming about… is my… past lives”

“No need to be so skeptic, sweetheart” he mumbled, reaching out in his pocket for his cigarettes, just to reminded by your harsh look that you didn’t like that gesture, mostly when he smoked in your clean room, smelling like lilies and oranges “… what I am saying is that you are looking too much through this: past lives sometimes come back to us in dreams, details that hunt you through the last shred of sanity”.

“Somebody choked me to death in my past life?” you tried to mumbled, thinking whether it made sense or not, and strangely it did, although you didn’t understand the way the dream kept on appearing almost each night you would dream.

“There are worst ways to die than this one” John Henry mumbled, sadly caressing your face “… just get some rest, I can put a spell onto you if you need it…”.

“You know how they don’t work…” you replied softly but thanked him with a quite caress to his shoulder, as he got up and you tried to do the same on shaky legs.

The only thing that would work on you was the truth.

Slowly the dream had become more detailed and you had been able to rebuild a story around them, and you were sure it was all due to Devan Campbell’s awakening powers, building up the prophecies you had been studying.

You had told John Henry that it was all linked.

And when the Campbell House trip had brought new knowledge, you hadn’t been able to handle the situation much longer, even more when it all spoke about things you had read in the prophetic books.

You had gone back to Cordelia and explained the entire situation, revealing much more than she had expected…

… than her and Mallory had expected.

“This is not the first time we are in this situation” you spoke, surprising anybody “… isn’t it, Mallory?”.

She seemed surprised, almost caught red-handed, but then spoke.

“It isn’t, but I had no idea that you had kept your memories” now all the witches in the Council were looking at you confused.

“They came back to me in my dreams, but I can’t quite piece everything together, but I know it’ll happen again, the books said that it will till the circle isn’t broke”.

Mallory smiled sadly, before moving to Cordelia sending her a smile who asked forgiveness for her omissions.

“We have already fought an antichrist: his name was Michael Langdon, and exactly as Devan he showed extraordinary magical abilities, but he was something more, something much darker… we managed to defeat, but… it is happening again”.

“I warned you it would happen” you mumbled, meanwhile Cordelia simply stared shocked at Mallory.

“You… came from the future…?” she said, evidently shocked.

“… and I had visions about it! And if you hadn’t noticed… we are all witches… this is fucking normal!” you shot back: now that you were sure you weren’t going crazy and something was happening, you didn’t understand the witches’ uneasiness.

Maybe it was because you had already gone through meanwhile for them it was simply fresh news.

“… (Y/N)…this isn’t… oh Gosh… this all seems crazier than it is”.

“We have defeated one antichrist already, we can do it again” replied encouragingly Mallory.

“We almost died in the last fight… shouldn’t we try to focus on avoiding what almost killed us…?” you didn’t want to again ‘I told you so’, but you had to use what you had found in your researches.

“… we know better and we are stronger than him, we know what mistakes not to commit” commented Mallory, taking the danger lightly and you couldn’t help but harshly send her a scared look, remembering all too well the way your neck had sounded as Michael had twisted it.

The way Madison’s head had exploded and the sick way he had bitten into Coco’s.

You couldn’t survive this again.

“… we won’t be defeated, this time”.

You had.

You still remembered the day when Mallory had left you and Cordelia had fallen to the ground, you and your fellow sister had been barely able to push her away from the horrible scenery and only Misty had been allowed to comfort her.

The following day she had come to your room and had asked to know what ‘your researches had taught you’.

Although she seemed skeptic, she had lost any hope the same second Mallory’s corpse had touched the ground.

And you had explained.

“It’s a prophecy: the antichrist is the contrary of Jesus Christ, hence we need a Christ, since this is not anymore an affair of witches and… that’s what the prophecy talk about: a new reborn human which will defeat the cursed son”.

“We should resurrect somebody and make him fight with the antichrist… that prophecy is bullshit!” commented Madison, meanwhile Cordelia seemed shocked.

“Not… anybody… there is the circle and who we should resurrect is…” you didn’t know how to give this news lightly, mostly when it was so heavy on everyone.

“… the previous antichrist, right?” Myrtle completed and you just nodded your head, meanwhile Cordelia gently fell on top of your bed, looking at her hands.

“… this is fucking fucked up” mumbled Madison, meanwhile you joined Cordelia on the bed

Indeed.

It had been a struggle to convince all the witches to join you in the possibility to resurrect Michael Langdon, not only because nobody thought it would work, but also because they couldn’t help but distrust him.

He would probably just join with his ‘brother’ had he been awakened, and you would have to deal with two powerful beings at the same time.

To prevent this, you had suggested to link up Cordelia and Michael and you knew all too well that he wouldn’t be resurrected as an antichrist but as a simply powerful warlock, maybe just as strong as you and Cordelia.

But definitely not an antichrist.

You had also tried to reassure the witches on the ‘betrayal’ part reassuring them that he would have had much more reasons to join you than his brother, one being the treatment that he had been reserved after his death: if an antichrist didn’t complete his mission, he would burn in the worst living nightmare Hell could conjure up.

Michael wouldn’t certainly help his ‘good ol’ daddy’, who had punished him for his failure and had quickly disposed of him, replacing him with a new and more efficient brother.

You also had to understand why he would ally with any of you, the people who had destroyed him, but that…

… could wait…

Once you had descended in Hell, you had found him in horrible conditions, burning fire consuming him and eternal damnation making him atone for every little failure that had happened in his plan.

“What are you doing here, witches?” he asked, a smirk working up to his scrunched and burned face “… did you come here to gloat for your success?”.

“We came here to make a deal with you” you spoke, since Cordelia was too shocked by the sight, the proof that the prophecy had been true and there had been a past to this horrifying present.

“… a deal?” he asked, and then, with a great pushing onto his leg, he pushed himself up, walking closer to you, the fire following him “… you aren’t the witches I used to know, but you… remember, don’t you, little rabbit? I sure remember the way your little neck sound as I broke it…”.

He expected fear to shine in your eyes, but only resolution was to be found there.

“You are not afraid of me”.

“Should I be afraid of the latest rendition of the ‘Human Torch’? Because the Hulk is honestly scarier”.

“We need help” spoke Cordelia, getting to the point “… we have been having trouble with another antichrist and this time… we couldn’t turn back time…”.

“Oh, I am sad to hear that, but how can I help you here? I am stuck in this literal hellhole… unable to do anything but suffer… and you know what it is the most interesting part… you fucking put me here” his voice had gone quickly from sarcastic to rageful and Cordelia seemed to almost fidget about what to do next.

“We are more than aware that you hold… a grudge… against us…” you mumbled, not leaning back from his touch “… but we might offer you something better than this ‘literal hellhole’, we might offer you freedom” you explained, trying to appear convincingly.

Your plan hadn’t admit Michael not accepting your deal, so you had to ensure he would accept, even if it came to bowing due to ‘his royal firey shit’.

“You are not going to give me such thing” his voice was spoken between gritted teeth, pushing his tongue against them in a cruel combo that resonated in his words “… if I have learned one things from you, witches, it is to never trust one of you, you are heartless, although you pretend to care about all those… ‘girl power’ shit”.

“I don’t allow you to offend my coven” tried to retort Cordelia and you had to hold an hand to her to shush her protest: you needed Michael much more than her proudness, right now.

“… you can trust me: what would we gain from making you walk the Earth again? Nothing but destruction” and you took a quite look around the place, making sure that disgust was evident in your gaze “… but if you prefer to stick around here… I underst…”.

“If I agree with your fucking treaty, what will be the hoax? Do I have to go around wearing Patagonia? Or will it be something like getting run over by a land rover again? Because in that case… I prefer something more elegant… don’t you have a Porche or a Lamborghini?”.

Well… the most difficult part was done.

You looked at the little fireplace you had set in the safehouse the witches had chosen as their bases in the operation against the Campbell antichrist (Madison had wanted to call him ‘The Omen 2’ but… you weren’t sure that somebody would have gotten that reference).

You would have to attack him before Apocalypse came around, since this time the option to go back in time wouldn’t be easy.

You would meet him the following day and put your best to fight him and defeat him, destroying the circle, since you had one of the past antichrists on your side (now nothing more than a warlock and half of the witches population had quite the fun remembering him about it… groaning dramatically ‘aaaaalphaaaa’ as he walked in, everywhere) and you would defeat the actual antichrist.

In the prophetic books, this was all it would take to destroy the mechanism and finally bring a bit of peace to the universe, which you hoped was what would happen, after you defeated the Campbell Antichrist.

… which was something everybody seemed to think was painfully obvious, and you should have: you had passed your entire life studying books for this moment, but you still couldn’t help but feel still… at unease about the entire subject.

But you hadn’t wanted to destroy the beautiful atmosphere going on in between your fellow witches and warlocks, knowing that half the success of this mission was set onto your own belief that you could defeat him.

Hence you had exiled yourself to the fireplace in the sitting room, meanwhile everyone was either getting drunk in their rooms, getting high or getting some action, which you just felt too much uncomfortable doing, your body shaky and tense and the warmth wasn’t able to soothe it in the slightest.

Still you tried to deal with all alone, as you had always done.

You had always had some kind of distance from the witches.

You felt fine talking with them, but magically talking… you were different, and had always felt that way.

That was why you had felt immediately more comfortable at Hawthorne.

“… so, this is how great nights are spent” Michael’s voice, surprised you and you almost turned around, chanting a soft enchantment under your breath, still unease around the warlock.

He, instead, seemed drawn to you, as if he was linked to you and not Cordelia.

You couldn’t help but be remembered of the past whenever his face saw yours, although the nightmares had stopped.

But it was difficult for you to simply forget.

The image in his eyes of a little boy being forced into this, was enough to make you understand that for Michael this wasn’t as easy as it might have seemed.

“Didn’t you take on Madison’s offer?” you asked, referring to when, over dinner, Madison had asked him if he needed some ‘job’ to relax himself before the great battle.

“I wouldn’t want Zoe to kill me, she is quite the strong witch” he mumbled, as he set onto the back of an armchair, meanwhile you turned to control the fire, lightly warming up more the room, since you were in two.

“… but you are stronger” you reminded him.

“Not as strong as I was before…” he mumbled, and what he said further, surprised you, extremely “… I don’t miss it honestly”.

“Hey!” you turned around, catching Michael’s azure eyes as you did so “…who are you? And what did you do to the power asshole that Michael Langdon is?”.

“I just… it isn’t… it wasn’t my power to start with” he replied, shaking his hand and looking at his eyes, a little light appearing in them “… and it felt always so out of control, like… it was what owned me, instead of me being the owner of it”.

“Can’t believe that also the antichrist could be sad…” you replied, moving closer to him, not knowing what eased your discomfort towards him.

Probably his pretty blue eyes.

“… it is a lonely world, the post-apocalyptic one” he stated, looking at the consuming fire, probably nightmares going through his mind of what had been going on in Hell “… and shouldn’t you be partying with Myrtle and Cordelia, I know that those two bitches have gotten the best liquor”.

“Ahhh… I think that I am missing a party: getting drunk and passing out, my ideal Saturday night”.

He laughed and you couldn’t help but be delighted to be there to witness it: it made him look younger much younger than he truly was, almost innocent.

“… I am glad to know that you won’t take advantage of me, because you are not in altered state” he joked, and you just retorted with a raise eyebrow giggling softly.

“You never know, you look pretty cute, without the burning marks…”.

“Only pretty cute?” he faked being disappointed, turning away from you, meanwhile you giggled, truly “… you need glasses”.

“If I survive this, I’ll get new ones”.

“If we survive? We are surviving” his words weren’t lighthearted ,and his eyes met yours “… I am making sure of it, I don’t want to go in that hellhole again!”.

You breathed deeply, the uncertainty of tomorrow heavying onto your head as a sword meant to cut your head off, had your prophecies worked out to be uncertain.

And Michael felt your insecurity.

“You are worried for tomorrow” you gritted your teeth and had no choice but to nod your head “… even if there are proph…”.

“Prophecies could be bullshit, and this time the Apocalypse will be permanent…” you finished, watching your hand, which Michael gently collected in his, the gentleness being a strange contrast with the idea you had of Michael… the one who snapped your neck…

“… I have seen many people… fighting destiny… I was one of them, trying desperately to be good, even thought, it wasn’t what Fate had for me… and what I am saying is that… it isn’t your fault if anything goes wrong, you fight, you give your best, the rest is in the Destiny’s hand, and I think that this is off-limits also to God and my father”.

“That’s very reassuring” although your tone was sarcastic, his words reassured you a bit, making you grip his hands back a bit tighter.

“I am more good at destroying the world than at comforting, sorry” he joked and you didn’t know what brought you to act that way (probably the cute way he smirked, all so proud of himself for what he had said), but you got onto your knees so that you were eye-to-eye with Michael and kissed him on the lips.

They were incredibly soft and plush, and Michael gently circled your back with his hand, to bring you closer, not squeezing to making you feel trapped but gently reassuring you were safe.

Which was a strange thing for the man who in a previous life had killed you.

A little cough brought you apart and Myrtle was staring at you, with a little eyebrow crook of disappointment and a knowing smirk that made you blush slightly, as a teenager being caught making out.

Michael also coughed of his embarrassment and you thought that a red-cheeked Michael was a miraculous sight.

“… please don’t desecrate the couch, your room have rather comfortable beds” she mumbled, before sprinting off away, probably to avoid seeing whether you were desecrating or not the sofa.

Michael got up, probably taking this as a cue to move away, to retire to his room, but you stopped him, gripping his hand.

“My bed is quite comfortable won’t you like to try it out?”.

You let Michael undress you, and he looked at you almost surprised that you were letting this happen.

You also were quite surprised.

But you just felt like it was right, and it was what you wanted to do.

You gently let him touch you, get acquainted with your body, from your soft lips, his fingers gently tracing the outline of them tentatively before they slipped inside and your tongue enveloped them, as you looked languidly at him.

Then his fingers moved down your neck, followed by your collarbones, tasting also the sweetest spots onto it, following your pretty collarbone, which he took his time bruising with his lips, till a little field of violets grew onto it.

And he then pushed away as you undid your bra, throwing it into a dark corner of your room, allowing Michael to take in your topless body, as he whistled lowly, making you blush softly and smack him on his arms, this time, definitely much stronger.

“… oh c’mon! Don’t hurt me, I need to save my energy for tomorrow” he muttered as you sent him an unbelieving look, and you guided one of his hands onto your hardening nipples, letting his fingers brush lightly against it, a tremble going through your body.

“Oh, you think you won’t spend any energy for this?” you asked, meanwhile his fingers started to have a mind of them own and caressed your nipple softly, before he lowered himself onto it, taking it in his mouth, gently, as you took his hair in your hands, pushing and pulling.

“… from what I can see you are the one doing anything, leading me through it…” he shot back, smirking before he sunk lightly his teeth into your skin, lightly reddening the areola.

“Just because I can’t trust you, around me, the last time … you choked me to death” something dark and sad appeared in his eyes and suddenly all the joking atmosphere had disappeared, for a single minute but you had felt the change.

“I promise it won’t happen this time” his voice was steady, truthful, as he gently kneaded your breasts, moving his lips onto the valley of them in a rather tender gesture, before he dipped between them, reaching slowly your stomach, the promise being repeated over there and then again onto your soft Venus peak, pushing itself past it “… the only thing that you are supposed to die from, right now, is… pleasure”.

And his tongue slithered dangerously close to your most secret parts, before he discarded your panties for more and more, till it broke you completely apart, as he, with much more expertise than you had given him the thought for, moved between your thighs.

He knew exactly what to do to make your thighs clench, to make you ask for more friction as you rubbed your folds together, bringing your legs closer around Michael’s head, as you pushed onto his rich curls, making him moan right onto your pearl, as he pushed himself further in you.

His fingers coming to join the party, as he pushed them to keep your eyes open, as he devilishly devoured you in a show of desperation that got you right over the edge.

And as you reached further, you pushed Michael with you to tumble onto the bed, in an ungraceful movement that gifted you both a huge smirk and a simple laugh, as Michael moved onto you, but you quickly changed the position, looking at him in the eyes, as your hands came to find their rightful place onto his chest.

“… didn’t you say I was the one doing the leading?”.

He couldn’t do much more but surrender to you, even more when you let him enter your warm heat, pushing him into tight walls and a lustful mix of juices that would create a mess onto your prettiest sheets.

But you didn’t care.

As you got past the initial shock of pain you finally came quite in control of your pleasure and rode Michael through it, your hands diving with more force onto his chest, leaving light red marks as he gripped the sheet till they broke it off from your bed, making you again laugh, almost dizzily, as your hips followed the orgasm in a desperate search.

Every muscle in your body ached, but the reward for that wild ride was quite rightful for its pain.

Breath was stolen from your laughs, but the thrill of pure utter pleasure that went through your body was enough to make you forget that tomorrow you might die, that tomorrow the world might end and just let you remind that that night you had been given the last gift of your life.

Michael met you halfway through your own peak, holding you down onto his chest, probably needing to ground himself in some way, and the feeling of human warmth literally shook you, calming you and lulling you in a dreamless sleep.

Tomorrow was just in the Destiny’s hands.

---

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akimmito · 4 years

Text

Heroes are made by the path they choose

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Master List

Chapter 14

Silent Hill: Something happened, I'll take someone over for Marie to judge

Needle: Ah, what was missing

It’s a Nara: Don't sleep, there is an Akuma

It’s a Nara: Who is Available?

Almost Pretty: This Akuma itself is causing disaster

Needle: There goes the national library

It's a Nara: Who is Available?

Perfect Crime: We are at the airport, we can escape to the bathroom. Just tell us, Kanté

It’s a Nara: Perfect

Aithusa: I'm ready, Max.

Wild goat: I'll go! I'm available

Olive: You have communications, don't be ridiculous

Almost Pretty: I can't escape the Bourbon Palace for this, we are being evacuated to the basement

------

Ateliade, Jade Shield, LadyNoir and Rakkīgāru are on the ruins of the national library, the last place that al Akuma ruthlessly destroyed. Observing the damage and trying to understand how he did it, the cameras failed to capture the attack, they just watched as the building collapsed on its own. A troublesome situation.

"Rakkīgāru, use the Lucky Charm."

Kagami obeys immediately, the Lucky Charm delivers a candle similar to the ones she has placed in the meditation room. The four heroes look at the object with curiosity, its function is totally unknown to them, but somehow they understand that what they need at the moment is in the MT.

"We need a more thorough evaluation. Mures?"

"Yes, LadyNoir?"

"Come here, we will use the mouse to try to identify your abilities from all possible angles. "

"Ok."

"Maybe that's what the Lucky Charm was referring to." Ateliade offers her opinion on this, looking at the candle. After all, Marc is on the MT, but neither Kagami nor Marinette feel that is the case. Surely they will need the specific abilities of some Kwami that is not being used, their instincts are screaming at them.

Before long, Mures appears in all his nervous figure. It's the first time that he will go out into the field like the mouse, he's more used to his vigilante suit, but he's confident that everything will turn out well.

"Let's follow the Akuma."

At Jade Shield's words, the five heroes move to follow the Akuma's trail of destruction. When they see the purple Dolphin flying over The Turkish Consulate General and they are suddenly aware that they are now in District XVII where most Embassies and Consulates are. That could be a problem if it reaches international ears, endangering citizens of other countries. They can already hear Chloe yelling at them for speeding up, they don't want anyone from outside sticking their noses into something they don't understand.

"Multitude. "Marc activates its power and divides himself into five copies of himself, remaining in a size similar to that of a child. Each duplicate goes in different directions, each hero follows a different one while the main one remains in place to serve as backup.

Marc can see from their different perspectives the way power works, there is no way they can get closer without perishing like buildings. The others don't fully understand him, but he does.

The Akuma seems to detonate its powers through a form of echo location, similar to what bats do, only instead of just directing it around the place, it also causes perfectly directed destruction, if they get close they will be hit and probably killed. It's inconspicuous from the directions you see, but it's enough.

If there was ever any doubt that the new villain wanted them dead, this new Akuma victim is proof that this is the case.

"We need one of two, someone who can demonstrate directly in front of the Akuma or someone in armor to withstand the impact of the echo location."

"Is that?"

"It's the closest I could discern."

"We need Tunin." Kagami suggests, it's better not to trust again and the Dragon's abilities are easily used over long distances, they wouldn't even be exposing the child.

"Yes…"

"It's done. Equuleus, bring Tunin to the field. ”Felix smiles, sure Damian will be ecstatic with the news. Since the first attack Akuma has wanted to leave and although there have only been two before that, they had not wanted to risk it yet.

Quickly, the boy appears next to LadyNoir and when he sees his mother, he feels guilty. Running away to find Constantine doesn't count as betraying her trust, does it? He may think that even she should have considered it, although perhaps what should bothers her is that he blackmailed Plagg.

"Something happens?"Marinette asks her little boy, who doesn't seem fully prepared, although his amber eyes seem to reflect something else.

"No mother. What should I do?"

"Can you simulate a storm, baby dragon?" Ateliade questions, if they can confuse the echo location (as Mures calls it) she can release her power and allow them to attack to obtain the Akumatized item, although it cannot be seen which one. Guessing is not much fun.

"Something happens?"Marinette asks her little boy, who doesn't seem fully prepared, although his amber eyes seem to reflect something else.

"No mother. What should I do?"

"Yes, two of the abilities are combined. It's harder, but if I just have to do that, it'll be fine.”He says with conviction.

Jade Shield moves to take people out of the Akuma's path, who cannot fully escape. Rakkīgāru unites to help, as long as they are not sure that their little plan works, they should avoid casualties as best they can.

Damian draws his sword and begins to move in parallel with the Akuma, at a good distance while concentrating on the two abilities he wants to activate at the same time. He can do it only because he's stubborn and his mother was helping him with every step, he wanted to be able to be a real help to fight alongside miraculous adult users and for that he needed to make an effort. As he tries to muster his energies for that, he better understands why his mother insisted so much that not yet, but done or not, it's his time.

"Tunin! Now or never."

He growls at Ateliade's words, but activates his powers.

"Dragon of Air and Lightning. "

Damian disappears to make way for a thick black cloud of storm that spreads around the Akuma, the lightning moves through the clouds and attacks the Violet Dolphin, which he barely dodges due to the interferences that the sound makes in his abilities... In addition to the poor vision that it has is frustrated by the intense light intervals that the rushing rays generate.

It really is a storm.

-----

Bruce Wayne is Batman

I can jump from eighth floor and survive: Paris has strange creatures.

Hell rejected me: What kind of strange creatures? Metas?

I can jump from eight floor and survive: No... it's a bat-winged dolphin that destroys everything in its path. And there are the heroes they mentioned!

I'll rest when I die: Is it real?

I can read your mind with a single glance: Are they the heroes and not the vigilantes?

I can ump from eight floor and survive: Yup, it's the heroes. Although they are still while talking.

I’m not Batman: I want a report.

I'll rest when I die: Your interest in our safety is flattering

-----

"Oh God! The boy just turned into a storm! How?! Where's the point in all of this?!"Dick almost has the jaw in the ground when seeing how the hero boy vanishes in a black cloud that begins to flash and cover the strange creature.

Everything is being televised with drones, according to the presenter. It also features the new hero, who is registered as part of the Team.

"Tunin is the current owner of the Miraculous Dragon, it was entered into the official register two months ago. His abilities are much more polished than previous Miraculous user Ryukko, demonstrating much more training. Despite his young age in relation to other heroes, we can be sure that he's trustworthy. He has already demonstrated this by displaying new skills and a great mastery of his powers. "

Tim watches with too worrying ease, still holding his cup of coffee, but he seems to pay little attention to what the newscaster has said.

He doesn't blame him, the situation seems to come out of a dream, with the same little sense.

He doesn't lose attention to what happens, they are far enough so that what happens is only barely visible through the window, but the view from the drone is very accurate. Soon another hero, the presenter calls her Ateliade, activates another power and a dragon stuffed toy falls into her hands, she and LadyNoir (the leader, according to what they said) put themselves in position taking advantage of the fact that the Akuma is too busy dealing with the cloud storm.

"It seems we managed to capture Rakkīgāru and Jade Shield as well, helping civilians to get out of the Akuma's path." Indeed, the two heroes move through the streets picking up people from the probable routes of the Giant Dolphin. "Mures remains on the sidelines, he seems to be fulfilling the role of watchman. Like Tunin, it's his first appearance. He has been registered as an official part of the team for six years, he's the second user of the Miraculous Mouse, after Multimouse with a single appearance ten years ago. "

Dick is surprised to learn that information, ten years ago? Since when is Paris dealing with this villain? Maybe he should go to the prosecution and the KanTech offices to find out the information required to know the matter.

"Dick..."

"Hmm?"

"Am I dreaming?"

"No."

"I'll leave the caffeine." Tim puts the cup on the table in front of him and takes his computer to start investigating, having his location in Paris, the information about the Akuma begin to appear. "Eleven years ago Hawkmoth first appeared and with him two heroes: Ladybug and Chat Noir. As time went by more heroes appeared and rotated, before Gabriel Agreste was arrested for being Hawkmoth, Paris was left alone with three heroes: Ladybug, Chat Noir and Vulpes. Chat Noir turned out to be the son of the villain, who was devastated and gave up being a hero... "

"What?" Dick stops watching television, missing the exact moment the Akuma goes crazy and its echo location loses the destructive effect because he can't focus enough for it.

"This is a summary of what happened seven years ago. The Butterfly Miraculous was stolen by the killer of Nathalie Sancour, the previous user of the Peacock. That Miraculous returned to the hands of Ladybug... Graham de Vanely spearheaded the lawsuit against Gabriel Agreste and Adrien was forced to marry Lila Rossi to keep his mother alive, as the heroes investigate a cure for the magical coma..."

"How did they manage to hide ALL THAT from the world?"

"Magic." Tim growls, that's the main reason, then with the joint efforts of different government bodies they became self-sufficient in it, making laws that allowed Parisian heroes and vigilantes to run freely making them an official identity within the country, but without being linked to it. How did it evolve to that point? Not even in the United States, with the acceptance of the heroes in the country, have they managed to do something like this... Will the French be more intelligent or are they much more paranoid? Because there is a complete security protocol so that the information does not come out.

They are so in jail just for mentioning all that to their family.

"We can't give that report to B... or come out as Robin and Nightwing."

"Should we register?" "Tim nods, but as far as he knows, only the MT can register heroes or vigilantes and for that they would need to contact them and give a good excuse for their visit." Everything is very well detailed, the theme of the vigilantes is not super secret like heroes. It's illegal to mention them on social networks outside the jurisdiction of France and word of mouth would not be credible because there is no information available. "

"Rakkigaru launches the cure!" The television distracts them again and they are surprised, again, to see how all the damage begins to repair itself and return to its original state.

"W-What…?

"It's one of the Miraculous Ladybug powers... it's one of the few skills that are publicly known and accurately described. The rest appear as: doubtful or not precise. "

"Do you think they are handling it well?"

"Yes... according to what Felix Graham de Vanely said, half of the evidence he presented was offered by the heroes of Paris and was, precisely, the most incriminating. Seven years have passed and they have the support of the MT, which have cleaned up the country's organized crime very well and have followed several very difficult cases that they have managed to manage... They have a more brilliant list of achievements than ours. You know, the Joker escaping Arkham every month is a stain on our record. ”Tim laughs a little when he says it. He would like to know their methods, although he suspects that they must have a network of informants, something that they have not used much because in Gotham it's unlikely to find trustworthy people, only Jason got several informants, but they have not reached more than that.

"Then let's just say hello."

"And let's seek to join that information network."

Tim sets that goal, to be part of that vigilant circle to which the MT belongs.

-----

Vivian @ LadyLuck_08

I loved Tunin's debut, will his hair be naturally long?

Leonor @Scar_FullMLeo

Did you see Mures? He's so cute

Ladybug comeback @ LadybugHero_89

It took a round hour to stop the Akuma. New record.

Chloe B. @BourgeoisQueen

Finally! I hate the basement. Who was the smart one who decided that it would be a good Akuma refuge?

#maribat #dickinette #dick x marinette #mominette #ml x dc

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tenelkadjowrites · 4 years

Text

Tyrant - Chapter Fourteen - batjokes

(this story has been updating regularly on my ao3 but i am uploading it here now as well.)

read on ao3 here.

Summary: Six months after a traumatic night where the Joker attacked Gotham, Bruce finds his life turned upside down once again. When a hijacking goes wrong, Bruce is brought closer to the Joker and finds himself in a game of cat and mouse with the most dangerous criminal in the city. Torn between the strange hold the Joker has over him and being Batman, Bruce grapples with what he wants and what is right.

this story deals with PTSD, depictions of violence, a lot of angst, and will have nsfw sexual content. it is a batman x joker fic.

read chapter thirteen here.

“You killed me.” Joker groaned against Bruce.

“You need medical attention.” As soon as the words left his mouth, he realized how mental it was. He had taken things too far; he was lucky Joker was alive. But what was he going to do? Just take him to a hospital?

“You’re no better than I am,” He whispered in a voice that sounded like jagged glass, “I hope you never forget it.”

Bruce’s eyes flickered open. Disoriented, for a split second he thought he was back to the night of the subway tunnel. Joker’s body would be at his feet. Out of time to save him. But the painful throbbing in his lower abdomen brought back disjointed memories. Joker trying to throw himself off the clock tower. Joker on top of him. The knife in his stomach.

Once again, he thought, I should be dead by now.

With a groan, Bruce tried to sit up. He had no idea where he was. How sick was he of waking up in strange places. To his relief, he wasn’t underground. To his right was a window that showed the snow falling out of the sky. The moon was blocked by heavy clouds.

He looked down. His shirt was sticking to the wound. Carefully, Bruce peeled it off and raised his shirt up. There was a thick bandage over the wound. He touched it gingerly with his fingers and could feel stitches underneath.

You killed me. You saved me.

This was Joker’s idea of being on equal footing.

I see you. Who else can say that?

He shivered. Managed to get off the bed although when he stood up, his vision swirled. Bruce regained his footing and looked around the room. It was a small bedroom. A few toys were tossed around. Did someone live here? Where were they?

We have to be on even ground. To make this work.

Bruce pushed the bedroom door open and ended up in the living room. A TV was on, running an old sitcom. He padded out towards the couch. Was he here alone?

The other bedroom door suddenly swung open and the Joker waltzed out, still with a walking cane. Alarmed, Bruce prepared for an attack, grabbing a lamp off the nearest table.

Joker took one look at him and laughed. “And what are you going to do with that?”

“Don’t come near me.” Bruce warned.

“You know, Bats, you’re not nearly as scary outside the suit.” Joker spoke casually, although Bruce noticed he was leaning a little hard on his walking cane. The injury he sustained in that van crash seemed to be lingering a lot longer than he originally thought it would.

Bruce raised the lamp but pain laced up his side. Groaning, he lowered it and Joker clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

“What are you doing, stupid?” He laughed, “You’re injured!”

“Because of you.” Bruce replied gruffly.

“You’re fine now. I saved you.” Joker plopped down on the couch and stretched out his long legs, resting them on the coffee table.

We have to be on even ground. To make this work.

Bruce stood there, still holding the lamp. Joker tilted his head back lazily to look at him. “Are you going to just keep standing there like some sort of politician who got caught fucking the babysitter?”

He realized that he was in no position to attack the Joker. Not only was he now wounded, but Joker still had the recording of their dinner. He put the lamp back and carefully sat next to him on the couch. The couch was small, leaving Bruce unable to put any space between them.

“Where did you learn to patch people up?” He asked.

Joker glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. “I used to work on a fishing boat. Accidents happened all the time.” The TV flickered colour over his pale face, his skin soaking it up.

Bruce inwardly snorted at the lie but didn’t press it. As far as he knew, Joker might believe every single thing that popped out of his mouth, silly sounding or not. The pain was a dull steady throb that made waves across his body. It was difficult to think. He let the fishing boat thing go.

The noise of the TV was just low enough to make it hard to hear. Joker didn’t seem to care.

“Shouldn’t you be out plotting?” Bruce asked.

“Those things aren’t interesting to me right now.”

Bruce read in between the lines. No reason to be killing or maiming when he could play mind games with Batman directly. At least that gave Gotham a reprieve.

“Shouldn’t you be out monologuing to a gang member about being a good person?” Joker countered. “Although I guess that’s hard to do now. After what you did.”

He shifted then, turning slightly to face Bruce. He tensed, waiting for some sort of attack.

“I have to admit, Bats, I was pretty angry about what you did to me. To think the one time Batman breaks his rule and it’s on me! I mean, what did I do to deserve that?”

“You derailed every subway train in Gotham. You killed hundreds of people. Injured hundreds more. The city has yet to recover from it. The subways still aren’t open. Then, you vanished for six months, leaving the city rendered immobile by fear wondering when you were going to return and how you would return. And that’s just one single night.”

“Is that your justification for murder?” Joker sounded affronted.

“No.” Bruce was uncomfortable.

“Let me check your wound.”

“No.” He repeated.

Joker rolled his eyes. “Don’t be like that, Bats. You understand that I had to stab you. I had to bring you back. It was an exchange! Like what you did to me. Now, if you don’t let me check your wound, it might get infected. Do you want to die from a simple infection? The great Batman undone from some festering wound?”

Bruce relented, too tired to argue. He nodded, leaning back a little to give Joker better access. He was thinking about what Joker said about the justification of murder. His knee jerk reaction was to defend himself. He had lost control. He had managed to jolt Joker’s heart back. No murder occurred. Joker might have legally been dead for a couple of seconds but…he brought him back. That wasn’t murder.

But Bruce knew those were all excuses. When he had lost control, rage fueled him. He had been running around in the tunnels, seeing nothing but death and destruction. Bodies littered the tunnel. Joker laughing as if it didn’t matter. When his hands wrapped around Joker’s throat, he intended to kill.

The loss of control haunted him. The guilt ate away at him. Joker could sense that, would use it to his advantage. And Bruce let him.

Joker’s gloved fingers reached for the edge of his shirt and rolled it up to expose the wound. It was strange being so vulnerable around him. If two weeks ago, someone told him that Joker would have stabbed him, stitched back up and then asked to look at the wound, he would have assumed Scarecrow had injected the person with something.

A lock of hair fell in front of Joker’s face. He blew on it to get it out of the way, but it fell back. Annoyed, he did it again, but the result was the same.

Without thinking, Bruce reached over and brushed the lock of hair into place behind his ear. His fingers brushed against the side of his cheek. Joker’s skin was cold. The coldness seemed to hit Bruce, make him realize what he just did. His hand quickly dropped to his side. Jesus, what had he just done? What the hell was wrong with him?

Even Joker seemed to be slightly taken aback by the gesture. His fingers hovered over Bruce’s wound, face unreadable. Bruce was so embarrassed that he didn’t know what to do or say to break the moment. What had driven him to do that? He wanted to crawl in a hole and die.

Joker cleared his throat softly and then touched the wound. Carefully, he began to peel back the bandage.

“How long was I out?” Bruce asked.

“About six hours.”

“Six hours? What time is it?”

Joker glanced over to the kitchen. “Close to four in the morning. Why, somewhere to be?”

No, nowhere to be. But he hadn’t let Alfred know he was okay, and he was bound to be concerned. Meeting the Joker outside of being Batman, defenseless, no communication…

A sharp pain caught his attention and he looked down. The bandage was peeled away, seeped with blood. The wound had been hastily stitched. It was no master stitching, but it got the job done. He tried to picture Joker stitching him up, but his mind couldn’t conjure up such an image.

“You’ll be fine.” Joker declared.

“Is that your diagnosis?” Bruce would be immediately having Alfred take a look at it.

“We have to change the bandaging though. Get up.” Joker stood up, grabbing his cane.

Grimacing, Bruce followed, holding his side. The pain was extremely intense. Joker leaned against his cane as they walked across the living room.

“Your leg got hurt badly in the crash,” Bruce pointed out. “Seems to be getting worse.”

“Your concern is touching, Batsy.” Joker replied, sarcasm dripping off every word.

“Where are we, anyway? This one of your safe houses?”

He stopped in front of the bathroom, flicking on the light, “The dinner tape isn’t here.”

Bruce has hoped he sounded casual, but Joker was more observant than he looked. Bruce peered into the bathroom before hobbling over to sit on the edge of the tub. Joker opened the medicine cabinet, tossing empty bottles over his shoulders to have them clatter on the floor.

“I know I left them in here…” He was mumbling before finding the bandages and antiseptic.

He then crouched in front of Bruce. The light in the bathroom was harsh and in it, Bruce could see the dark circles barely hidden by the white face paint under Joker’s eyes. His lipstick had not been reapplied. As a result, it had faded a bit and Bruce could just make out the actual skin tone of his lips for once.

Joker’s eyes flicked up to his face. Bruce felt caught but didn’t break the stare, afraid of looking skittish.

“Lean back a bit.” He commanded.

Bruce did so. Joker got the antiseptic, soaking a cloth in it and then tugged up his shirt. Without warning, he then pressed it against the wound.

Bruce flinched, cursing loudly. “A warning would be good!” He snapped.

“Oops.” Joker said demurely, but he didn’t believe it for a second.

Exhaling through the pain, clutching the edge of the tub, Bruce closed his eyes. Joker dabbed at the wound, cleaning it before putting the new bandage on it. His fingertips touched Bruce’s skin and it felt as if every nerve was alight. Opening his eyes, he looked down. Joker was positioning the bandage carefully over the wound. The tip of his tongue poked out in between his teeth, clearly focusing. Bruce studied his face. Those white teeth that had lipstick rubbed on them. The bridge of his nose. His furrowed brow. He decided to close his eyes again.

When he was finished, Joker took a minute to admire his work and then stood up. He held out his hand to offer Bruce support. But he didn’t want to risk Joker pushing him into the tub or something for a laugh. He managed to stand on his own.

“I’m leaving now.” He told Joker.

“Already, Bats? But the party is just getting started!”

Bruce pushed past him, knocking Joker away by the shoulder. All he wanted was to get home, have Alfred look at him and go to bed. He got the sense Joker expected him to stay. That was the last thing he wanted to do.

I see you. Who else can say that?

Without looking back, Bruce opened the door, leaving Joker alone in an apartment that belonged to no one, the stab wound throbbing painfully and his head overwhelmed with another night where he had been at Joker’s mercy.

#batjokes #batjokes fic #tyrant

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arabellaflynn · 3 years

Text

For anyone who didn't catch it on other social media, I have finally moved out of the "temporary" apartment I was stuck in for 7 months, thanks to a lot of emotional and logistical support from friends, and a generous amount of financial support from the folks who gave to my GoFundMe. I am endlessly grateful to all of you, and if I weren't so goddamn tired right now I'd be more eloquent in saying so.

I've spent the past few weeks of unpacking and working out the bus routes around my new place trying to figure out how to explain what was so terrible about the last one. Most attempts devolved into page upon page of rage, which is not really what I want to be doing here. On the other hand, I also don't want to downplay how bad it was.

Spoiler: The temp apartment was Very Very Bad.

The tl;dr is that I was offered someone's spare room on the condition that I help out a little extra with household chores and caring for their rats, because the pet owning roommate had recently had back surgery and was still mobility-impaired. What actually happened is that as soon as they realized I had any basic life skills whatsofuckingever, I was cornered into becoming the 24/7 on-call House Adult. I would have gone on strike, but the other two people in the apartment were so terrible at coping with absolutely any aspect of being alive that if I had, one or both of them would probably be dead now.

That is not hyperbole. I sat back at one point and realized that I had talked to 911 dispatch five times in the preceding four months. None of those calls were for me. To be clear, I ain't mad about other people having medical problems. All five of those calls were appropriate and necessary uses of emergency services. I just resent the hell out of being the default option for handling all of it, even though none of the medical emergency problems were mine, and there were other people in the house. Literally, Short Roommate had a catastrophic asthma attack one night, and when she was wheezing too hard to talk she passed the phone to Tall Roommate -- who immediately ran to the other end of the apartment, banged on my door, and handed the phone to me. It got to the point where I just told the operator what was up, went downstairs to unlock the door for EMS, stood in the corner answering the occasional question until they hauled someone off to the hospital, and then went right back to bed, because none of this was my problem. And that's just the 911 calls, not even counting the number of times I had to talk her down out of a dissociative episode, or any of the other shit I was not warned about and did not volunteer to do. They wore me down until my only response to "a fellow human can't breathe" is "fuck's sake, why am I even involved here".

They both needed a lot more, and a lot more professional, help than they could possibly have gotten out of a random civilian roommate. They both fought tooth and nail against actually getting any of it. Every time Short Roommate was dragged to the hospital, her discharge papers included a big fat packet full of social services, resources, and business cards for actual physical people to phone. I know this because whenever I cleaned the apartment, I found them on the fucking floor, whereupon I placed them on her fucking keyboard, and told her point-blank to call these people. As far as I know, she never did.

I am neither qualified nor equipped to be a live-in caregiver for anybody. There is a fucking reason I have never wanted children. I keep critters because if you give them food, water, toys, and boxes to sleep in, you can leave them to entertain themselves for hours while you work or sleep, and no one will arrest you.

There was a bunch of other stuff. Tall Roommate rarely if ever cleaned anything, including herself, unless directly ordered to do so and given a detailed list of instructions of what you meant by "clean". I only ever got her to wash her own damn dishes once, and I did it by messaging her from the other room 'I just found a mouse in the sink eating snacks off your dirty plates GO DO YOUR DISHES'. She had a laundry list of problems, but the relevant one here is that she was high-support-needs autistic with no support and zero inclination to find any.

[Did I mention the mice? We had mice. All over. The rats murdered two of them when they got into the cages, looking for the free-feed bowl.]

Short Roommate clearly loved her rats but didn't actually do any of the rat care beyond petting and playing. One of them was tremendously sick at one point and needed meds q6h. She was supposed to be helping with that and didn't, which meant that I went several weeks on a maximum of six hours of uninterrupted sleep a night. I tore the fuck into her for that one, pointing out in exactly so many words that some of these meds were painkillers and if the rat didn't get them on time HE SUFFERS. Not doing any of the grunt work, Short Roommate evidently thought rats were so easy she should just keep getting more of them! She rescued two, one of whom was preggo, kept several of the babies, and started talking about waiting for one of the girls to grow up so she could breed him with one of her younger boys.

Gentle Reader, I promise you the only reason I did not strangle her in her sleep that very night was that I knew, deep in my heart, that I could not move the body down two flights of stairs by myself, and if I left it up to Tall Roommate, the corpse would still be in the apartment today.

If I were inclined to any sympathy, it would have died when Short Roommate moved out to shack up with New Boyfriend and New Boyfriend's Mother. She initially took all the rats with her, which made them officially not my problem anymore, but I woke up one morning to a message that said something like "[New Boyfriend's Mother] says that if I show up to our new place with the rats she's not going to let me in, [Tall Roommate] is coming back with all the rats and everything they own". I found out later that this was because their new place was in section 8 housing, where you are not allowed to have pets that aren't service or support animals. Which Short Roommate had known the entire time, and just... made no plans for. At all. Unless "ignore everything until bitchslapped by reality, then panic and make unreasonable demands of other people" counts, I guess.

Eight rats. She dumped eight rats on me. Eight. I wound up taking care of them all without help; Tall Roommate was incapable of keeping anything in her habitat clean, including herself, and I wasn't willing to let her neglect animals. I was actually down to one rat of my own, having lost my two venerable old men, and was looking for a new friend or two for Tseng. Which I had to stop doing, because nine fucking rats is a lot of rats, and I couldn't in good conscience bring Rats nos. 10 & 11 into this shitshow. Naturally, none of the rats got along; two pairs of boys had to be kept apart, and both of them tried to pick fights with poor Tseng, and four of them were girls that had to be kept away from all of the boys for obvious reasons. It was exhausting and a catastrophe.

Once I had the rats she apparently made no further effort to re-home them, although she did keep telling Tall Roommate to come knock on my door and take pictures of them. (I put a stop to this. Tall Roommate did it because Short Roommate had broken up with her to shack up with New Boyfriend, and Tall Roommate had literally no way to cope with this other than try desperately to get her back.) I bugged her to do something about this until, predictably, I had to contact the local rat rescue people to find fosters less than a week before my moving crew was scheduled. When I told her, she replied "oh, I was just about to submit that". Sure you were. And while you're here, I have this nice bridge to sell you.

[The four girls and two youngest boys went to Mainely Rat Rescue. It looks like the boys have already found a home, but the girls are up for adoption. I kept the two old men, who both have special care needs; Garion has breathing problems that involve his own asthma inhaler and a steady diet of NSAIDs, and Errand has attitude problems that involve picking fights with any rat who isn't Garion. They're both just shy of three(!) and unlikely to find homes through a foster program, plus I'm already their third caretaker, so I couldn't send them off with a stranger. They are currently sulking because I wouldn't supplement their dinner with all of my dinner -- which is to say, they're fine.]

The point is, my brain just about died off. The only time in that apartment that I didn't spend cleaning up after three grown adults, two of whom weren't even me, were the weeks after Short Roommate moved out to shack up with New Boyfriend, which she had broken up with Tall Roommate to do, and Tall Roommate took it so badly she ended up inpatient before she ate a bottle of Tylenol. (I called 911 when I overheard her plans. It was about 50% "a fellow human is in need of help" and 50% "argh jesus fuck THIS IS NOT MY JOB please go talk to someone who is actually paid to deal with this".) I am slowly clawing my way back to the surface, so if you'll just bear with me, I'll be back on Twitch this Sunday 3-7 Eastern, and type out more things that have been on hold while I tried to retain at least some of my marbles.

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#IFTTT #Blogger #Unsolicited Advice

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hollowedpeacher · 4 years

Text

There was a delightful breeze that came through the air as the Mayor admired the crowd of people coming together to celebrate his birthday. Although he knew it was the barbecue that drew the crowd, it didn't stop him from feeling pride in his town as he hopped on the stage to make a speech. The Mayor tapped the microphone getting the attention of the townspeople with a smile on his face until suddenly a screech came ringing out the speakers.

Everyone in the square reached for the ears, covering them as the sound rang out for a minute and filling the air. It was like nails on a chalk board, causing shivers up spins for forcing. But instead of comforting silence, a distorted voice echoed out from speakers surrounding the stage. "Hello Peaches," the voice began smugly, as if they were smiling from behind the microphone.

“I bet you thought you were safe, nice and cozy in this oh-so-wonderful town. Did you think you could spend this weekend guzzling booze and cradling the karaoke mic with those cotton candy-coated sticky fingers without hearing from me? This weekend may be all about fun and games, but just because you try to ignore the problem, doesn't mean it goes away - isn't that right Angel Barbosa?"

The crowd turned their heads, all looking for the brunette among the sea of people who suddenly appeared to be thirsty blood sharks. While some appeared to be satisfied with the bubbling caldron of drama on the stage before them, many were hungry for more. The shuffling of everyone's feet, in conjunction with their murmurs, created a dull, chaotic roar amongst the crowd. "The Barbosa name is know to be strong, superior and loved. But how would people feel knowing that their matriarch isn't taking time off for a break like those who have the luxury of being ignorant for the weekend? If they knew little Barbosa came home to a place of abuse and to take care of mommy dearest, that'd certainly change the connotation of that powerful name. Such a cross to bare. I do hope chemo is treating your mother well."

To believe that the Peacher's reign was over was a long shot. The townspeople knew that this entity always came for the throat, and in cases of utter desperation, the whole flock. And while the square quickly filled with hungry whispers, musing about the Barbosa family and where exactly Angel’s mother had been all this time, their thoughts were cut short as the voice carried out from the speaker once again, menacing and coming with a vengeance.

"While we're discussing health problems, why don't we take a look closer at someone with much less power? Perhaps you've heard of her - the quiet little field mouse, constantly turtling in the corner with a blunt in hand to ease that anxiety that will certainly make her heart stop one day. Sweet, dearest Clementine,” the voice continued, drawing out the blondes name painfully slowly, savoring each syllable. Eyes darted around the sea of people in search of their regular waitress at the Giant Peach as the voice began once again. "It's a shame you can't set off on a journey to Oz to find a new heart. I'll share a quote that you can empathize with from the wonderful wizard himself: hearts will never be practical until they can be made unbreakable. The tin man was enthused to discover that the heart-shaped clock he was given ticked. But you know what it's like to be living on borrowed time. Shhhhh. If you listen close enough, folks, you can hear the sound of the irregular heartbeat speeding up, and up, and up, and up—”

By now the crowd was searching for where the voice was coming from with no success. They should've known by now that once the Peacher took the microphone - it was quite over for whoever they laid their mark on. And while there were many desperately searching for the source of the voice, following the trail of dozens of wires leading away from the stage, their efforts were futile and led them to dead ends. The Peacher was good at this. The Peacher had been doing this for years. Their empire wouldn’t come crashing down because of forgotten wires. Not a chance.

"Let's call it ladies night, shall we? How do you feel about that, Lennon? Or should I say Jazlyn?” The voice coo’d, letting Lennon’s real name roll off their tongue with ease. “What? Did I strike a chord? I'm surprised to see you out, Rapunzel. You're usually cooped up in the towers. How did you ever end up in a place like Peach Hollow? You may have traded San Francisco's streets for suburbia, but you never stoped looking over your shoulder. It's tough shaking off that kind of pain, isn't it? I do hope you have a good therapist or the number to a private investigator on speed dial. You never know whose creeping up behind and when they're going to strike."

With every name and every secret that spilled out from the speakers, the crowd in the square grew more restless. People began backing away from the stage in fear of being the next target while others continued their search for the victims, questions ready, prepared for attack. In a flash, friends turned to strangers, changing everything anyone knew about their friends, and opening their eyes to the truth that their small town in the middle of Georgia was not as picture-perfect as it was made to appear. The veil was being lifted, exposing the dark truth that lay hidden behind the climbing vines and looming trees that lined their streets. The truth was, finally, coming out.

"Hot off the presses. Two of our Peach Hollow dames are with child! While one of our mamas has done a one-eighty from their past, it seems Scarlett has not changed her ways at all; the effervescent juggler of men. Have you settled on the one who helped create the thing in your womb? Can you say with certainty who is sharing your seed? Or is he just another faceless man you've had wrapped around your pale, perfectly manicured finger, much like your college professor? Do you love Dominic the way you loved the man before him? Wonder how many papers you would have failed if you weren't riding away on that stallion? And a married man too? Do you ever wonder if his wife found out? Guess she'll know now.”

The Peacher questions fired off like bullets from a gun, shooting off in every direction without even a second between to recover. They were sharp and to the point, the barrel aimed to kill. On stage, the Mayor shuffled nervously from one foot to the other, his sunken eyes scanning the faces of his residents, the residents he vowed to keep safe and protect, no matter the cost. And instead they were being attacked with accusatory words and hurtful questions. It seemed no-one was safe, and he could do nothing but pray it was the end.

"Why don't we end off this wonderful evening with the thorn in the Peach Hollow garden? Rose Harmon. Until death do us part is not meant to be taken literally, you know? Let's play a game of twenty questions in lesser words. Was the body still warm when you packed your bags? Did you know the batch was laced? How does one recover from something like that? What are you on now? Meth, Coke? Can you even say her name? Be careful, Rose, don't think Finley is with the guy upstairs if you know what I mean, and the reaper may be coming for you next."

A gasp filled the air as the bright, vivacious woman who’d worked nearly all booths that afternoon had her dirty laundry exposed for the world to see. At this point, a quiet hush had fallen over the crowd. People abandoned their desperate search for the source of the voice, and instead stood in silence. Whether they accepted the words was up for debate - but if there was one thing the residents of Peach Hollows knew, it was that The Peacher, despite how vile and violent they could be, was never wrong. They simply provided the information. And now, it was up to everyone else to pick up the pieces.

"Clearly Peach Hollow was bred on the foundation of honesty. Look around; all of you have your secrets. This isn't meant to stir up drama. What am I? A fucking gossip columnist? TMZ? No, I'm the person lurking in the shadows, the person sitting in the booth near the back, or waiting in line at the bathroom. I’m the person that ensures all wrongdoings are brought to light, that we pay for what we've done. Whether it's a business deal or illness or an abortion that you thought you could hide, I will know. Soon enough, the town will know. Peach Hollow is not a safe place to be, and it won't be as long as the chase is on. Oh, how could I forget? Happy birthday, mister Mayor. I hope you liked your gift. You should have seen the look on your face."

And suddenly, everything was quiet.

#plot drop #peaches:important #peaches:event #peaches:event004 #tw death #tw drugs #tw cancer #tw overdose #tw medical #tw stalking

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modestlyabsurd · 5 years

Text

Alight Pt. 3 (Loki x Reader)

"That," he wiped his bleeding cheek, "was a big mistake."

He was gonna retaliate right then and there, the life leaving his eyes and rage consuming him. You prepared. He'd already gotten in a few licks leaving you pretty weakened. Arms were throbbing from blocking blows and your head burned in white hot pain. You're no match for Dickhead. But at this point if you died fighting him, so be it. It'd be better than living the rest of your life here.

As he lunged, he suddenly froze in place, and then your blood ran cold. His face disappeared - then reappeared in an instant.

Your heart beat so fast that your entire body was rendered paralyzed. Hallucinating - definitely hallucinating.

But it happens again; his face glitches from its brooding, bloodied features to a blank sheet of skin and back again.

He chuckles. His voice darkens robotically as his face goes in and out, like a TV with bad reception. "Looks like you damaged my screen."

The ground wobbles beneath your feet, but there's nothing around to steady yourself except for your own head - and it could explode at any second.

"What? Now you're scared?" He takes a small step forward, you take the same step back. "You should've been scared this entire time. You're not back home on Earth."

... What? How?

"Don't act surprised. But it's not an act, is it? You really thought you were smart. Humans are so laughable sometimes. Steadfast? Sure. But you're all so easily broken. That, and your inherent ignorance was the dead giveaway to your origins."

His dark, artificial eyes repeatedly go in and out and return to yours each time. He clears his throat and places his arms at ease. "Allow me to explain a bit about myself, since you were gracious enough to oblige me in a similar nature," he smiles, gesturing to his injured human cheek.

Your skin itches all over. Your mind is sending distress signals everywhere it can. Which, clearly, isn't far.

"I am a Chronomonitor. We are created and assigned whenever and wherever a reality is altered. I would normally explain the development process of how we're created, but I'd bet you don't know the first thing about quantum technology. Just like I'd bet you don't know the first thing about gamma radiation," he smirks.

Fuck ... what all do they know?

"But that's besides the point. I was created when the reality of Earth in the year 2012 was tampered with by undercover parties. I will cease to exist when my job is complete, which is to eliminate the threat and restore reality as it is. Until then, you're stuck with me indefinitely."

Wonderful, you bitterly think to yourself.

He dares to take another step closer, and despite yourself, you dare not to take one back.

"See how much easier things can be, if you're a good little human?"

A voice interrups through his radio, shouting urgently in their verbal codes. He tilts his head to listen and in an irritated rush he responds with an affirmation.

Now completely faceless, without concealment, he turns to leave. But not without a final word. "I feel like we've gotten to know each other a little better. No more secrets now. Right, Doe six one eight? Or, rather, little L/N."

He had the nerve to whisper your last name.

When the cell door shuts behind Mr. Chronomonitor, you start crumbling. Your legs nearly give way as you stumble back, back, until you hit the concrete wall and slide down, your throat constricting. They tracked you. They tracked the breadcrumbs, and you just gave them a freshly baked loaf with your name written on it.

You couldn't breathe. You couldn't think straight. All you could do was cry.

All you wanted was Loki.

Loki would know what to do.

Loki would know what to say.

Loki would protect you. He wouldn't let these forces get anywhere near you. He didn't! That's why your steadfast, laughable, ignorant fucking self is here in this space pit. Because he died protecting you from the true forces of the universe, and their crimes.

You wished that wasn't your last memory of him. That's why you've forced yourself not to think of him during this imprisonment. But things always come full circle. You should've known better. Loki always compared your feelings to a body of water, and said that the levee reserving the riverflow was made of fire. The flames will always succumb to the water at some point. Goddammit, you miss him. In the most selfish way possible.

He was one the few people in your life who accepted you unconditionally; he loved even the worst parts of you. Looking back, you took that for granted. A little voice keeps nagging you about it as time goes on, and in all honesty, you're starting to believe you deserve to stay here indefinitely.

You miss him. The hot, fiery tears leaving streaks down your swollen cheeks are the testament to it. You miss the real Loki. A far cry from who's out here in the timelines running amok.

It's the broken, vengeful, brainwashed monster that Thanos created in 2012 that's left. You think back to that distant, original little spark of hope; that maybe the real Loki is still alive and lost in there somewhere. Maybe you could find him, bring him to the light.

But that was then. Now, the chances of ever finding Loki are slim to none, and your chances of staying prisoner here are rising.

Oh for Heaven's sake. It was just getting good!

The melee had to end right when the mysterious neighbor had done what he couldn't do (what he truly wished to do if he hadn't a main objective) and that was provoke that oaf of a guard to the breaking point. But he remembers there's been no provoking whatsoever. Only silence.

And then a beating ensued, and even Loki had to turn away. He's not a sadist. He's more of a curious panther that's been reduced to a pathetic house cat.

Indeed while the voice of the Other continues to berate him for his childish approaches, and in a similar nature, Loki has chosen to ignore it. Temporarily, of course. It's not his fault that the daft creature cannot function under anything but its own direct orders. Loki enjoys chaos. And in this place, he doesn't even have to be the perpetrator.

Although useful in that he now knows a great deal more about these bots and their facility, this sort of chaos isn't exactly what he had in mind. Unlike the Other, as well as the Titan, hurting people fruitlessly doesn't interest Loki.

"Knock, knock," a voice sarcastically sounds outside the cell door.

Loki's ears perk and the hair on his neck dares to stand on end, but he doesn't allow it. He leans against the gray concrete comfortably, awaiting his visitor.

"Time for my interrogation already?" he chirps. The Chronomonitor - information accredited to his neighbor - opens the heavy door, bringing in shadowy dim light from the hallway. It appears as the same burly man with educated eyes and sturdy limbs, and a faint scar on its cheek. Loki cannot the smirk on his face as he eyes the robot, relishing in the secret knowledge he has. He distantly wonders how he'll use it to his advantage later.

"Afraid not," it shakes its head. "That's why I'm here. Mobius has chosen to delegate more time to another case over the next few days, so you're off without questioning today."

"What a shame. I was looking particularly forward to my session this afternoon," Loki feigns disappointment. He then inquires, "What could possibly interrupt such a cured routine?"

The robot ponders Loki, but in the moment, does not deem him disingenuous.

A mistake.

As if it's divulging a secret, the robot lowers its tone. "It's the person right next to you, as a matter of fact. She's been an absolute pain ever since she was apprehended a month ago. Mobius is even sicker of it than I am," it nearly growls, before recollecting. "But now he's finally ready to do something about it."

The way the bot's teeth shined in sticky enjoyment struck a nerve in Loki.

He tilts his head, playing along. "What do you think that something will be?"

"That's to be determined. Oh, and you didn't hear any of this," the bot threatens.

"Of course," Loki assures. Even though he heard every word of it.

The bot nods. It then scans the cell, as Loki crosses his arms and slides his tongue over the grooves of his cheek. The robot's eyes land on the uneaten breakfast tray next to the bed.

"Better eat. The cooks never cook that good."

"Merely saving it for later," he responds, voice clipped.

Awkwardly, the bot turns to leave. "Won't be another meal for a good few hours."

"Four hours. To be exact."

The bot looks back at Loki with bewilderment. Loki notes how easily angered they can become, if outwitted. Without another word it waves an arm dismissively and locks the door tightly behind.

It's just at the surface. But how did his neighbor do it so effortlessly?

A girl, he remembered. The robot referred to a girl.

He lay his head against the hard pillow of the wall, still propped against it. Outside his ever-racing mind, the world around him became quiet. Impossibly quiet; quiet enough to hear. Maybe enough to hear a pin drop, or a mouse scatter across the floor.

Definitely enough, he learned, to hear soft, barely audible cries through the thick walls of his cell. His eyes widened.

Female cries, he notes.

Loki's curiosity is getting the best of him. But he decides he'll deal with whatever repercussions there are.

Just for kicks, he creates a duplicate illusion of himself, leaving it on the bed. Then, cloaked in invisibility, he enters the cell next door.

The cells are similar - dark, unkind concrete. A bed. A sink. A toilet. A mirror, and something his own cell lacks: a door with a small window with a view, of another door. Loki's not surprised.

The prisoner is what surprises him.

A woman, indeed. Scrubbing at her face over the white sink, washing it in red. She pushed her hair back as it kept falling in her face, sticking to her blood. Wearing the TVA prison suit identical to his, her exposed arms were marked by violence. She turns off the sink and looks at herself in the mirror. If Loki were visible, they would've locked eyes right then and there.

She looked innocent, even babyish in the face. Something felt familiar about her. Strongly, strangely familiar, but he couldn't place how. It bothered him. The dark bruises littering her skin bothered him more; they pinched and scratched at his nerve endings.

He can't look away. In fact, he contemplates making his presence known to her, but hesitates as she moves to the cot.

Loki breathes.

Upon having a face to match with the body, he wonders. He's always been a good judge of character; what could that face have possibly done to be treated differently than he? He hadn't been assaulted by any guards or agents, even when he'd provoked them. Make no mistake, he's treated with less than respect, but not to the point of beatings at least. So what is it about this normal, non-threatening woman?

Still unable to look away from her, she lays on the cot, facing the wall - away from Loki. From this perspective she seems almost like a child. He sees her deep breathing and hears her silent whimpers; he watches her until she eventually falls asleep.

Resigning himself back to his own cell, he too lays on his cot. It's so boring here. Even with new guests, they fall asleep just as the story begins to barely unfold. A pity.

Who is that woman?

There's two sides to the coin that is Loki's thought process. It would be a lie to say he wasn't glad that the quiet one finally cried herself to sleep. But when has it being a lie ever stopped him from saying something?

tag list: @sydneyss-worlddd @afinedilemma @fire-in-her-veinz @belladonnabarnes @drakesfiance @internetgremlin @dragon-chica @triggeredpossum @tarynkauai @sadwaywardkid

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superspoonie24 · 4 years

Text

Broken Steel

Kara is having panic attacks and is determined to find out who’s causing them. Almost 3k. Kara really just needs a hug and therapy. 💛

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27130801

CLICK

"Oh no," Kara whispered as the door locked behind her. "It's okay. You'll be okay," she mumbled to herself.

Kara took a deep breath and focused on the reason she went into the supply closet in the first place. She fumbled around for the ream of printer paper until she finally found it hiding behind the toner.

"Gotcha! Now to get out of here."

Kara turned around to open the door, but the handle wouldn't budge.

"Shoot."

Kara jiggled it and pulled on it but nothing worked. She'd blown her powers out, so she couldn't 'accidentally' break the door. She just had to sit and wait for someone to find her.

"Okay Kara. You can do this. Just breathe. Focus on what Harley taught you."

Kara took a deep, diaphragmatic breath in, held it for seven counts, and let it out for eight. She repeated it over and over, but the panic still rose within her.

At somepoint she ended up on the floor, hugging her knees to her chest. The walls were closing in, and it felt like she would be stuck there forever.

"No Kara. You're not in the pod. It'll be okay. Just breathe." Kara squeezed her head tight, begging her mind to focus on something, anything else.

"Come on Kara. You should be over this. You're the Girl of Steel, and you can't handle a closet?" Kara chastised. She dug her finger nails into her temporarily human skin.

Tears were threatening to fall when the door opened behind her.

"Kara!" Winn exclaimed. "Are you okay?"

He reached out his hand and helped her up. Kara brushed off her skirt and wiped her eyes.

"Huh? Oh I'm fine," Kara lied. "Just had a little trouble with the door. Someone she really fix that."

Kara walked off without saying another word. She didn't go back for the paper.

***

The elevator ride that night after work was the longest of Kara's life. She fiddled with the end of her shirt and rubbed her hands together. If she had her powers she would've just flown home, but she couldn't. And after having to walk everywhere all day, Kara was too exhausted to take 15 flights of stairs. Although right now, she was beginning to rethink it.

When the elevator dinged and the doors finally opened, Kara tore out of there. She ran into the empty street and enjoyed the open air. Despite how exhausted she was, Kara walked all the way home.

***

'What's going on? Why can't I move?' Kara thought to herself as she opened her eyes to total darkness. She felt like she was floating; she felt sick to her stomach.

'Not this again,' she grumbled. 'Alright. Breathe. You can do this.'

Kara maintained steady breathing as she drifted aimlessly through space. A bright light appeared in the corner of her eye. She turned her head. Suddenly she could see every detail in high definition.

'I'm- I'm in the pod? As an adult. Wait what was that flash? Where am I? Why can't I move!'

Kara's breath picked up and she whipped her head around, only adding to her nausea. She located a familiar white moon and a bright yellow sun.

'NOOOO!' Kara screamed as she watched her planet explode for a second time. Tears streamed down her face as she mourned the loss of her new home: Earth.

***

Kara woke up hyperventilating, her body covered in sweat. She looked around and realized she was in her room, on Earth.

'It was just a dream. Well, a nightmare,' Kara thought to herself.

She flung what's left of the covers off the bed and sat up. She stretched and accidentally got a whiff of her fresh sweat.

'Guess I'm gonna shower now.'

Kara got up and headed to the bathroom. She stopped in the doorway, staring at the small room.

'It's okay. You can do this. You're not in the pod. You're not in the closet. You can leave whenever you want.'

Kara took a deep breath and stepped into the bathroom. She left the door open.

***

Kara spent the whole day ready to fly through a wall at a moments notice. She nearly punched Winn when he came up and tapped her on the shoulder.

'Get it together Kara,' she chastised herself. 'You aren't under attack. Relax dammit!'

Kara took a few deep breaths and broke the mouse in her hand.

'Dang it.'

Kara looked around the office to see if she could get some intern to get a new mouse for her; it was empty.

'Okay. Guess this is a job for Supergirl.'

Kara tried to laugh at her bad joke, but it didn't help. She made her way to the supply closet and stood at its door.

'It's just a closet Kara. Prop the door open. Find the mouse. Get out. You've done it a hundred times. You can do it again.'

Kara just stood staring at the open door. She focused only on her breathing, blocking out all other sounds.

"Whatcha staring at?" Nia asked.

Kara jumped a foot in the air and nearly fell over.

"Nia!" Kara shouted. "Don't. Scare me like that."

Kara struggled to regain her breath.

"Sorry?"

Nia looked at Kara and asked "are you okay?" She then whispered "I thought you had super hearing."

"I do!" Kara replied, louder than necessary. "I was just- focused on something else."

"Alright..." Nia looked at her again but brushed it off. "So what were you staring at?"

"Oh. Right. I was.... Looking for a mouse! For my computer. Oh I just remembered I have to do something," Kara lied. "Would you do me a favor and get me one?"

Nia looked at Kara's trembling hands, but didn't push it.

"Sure. Go do your thing and I'll have the mouse waiting on your desk."

"Thank you Nia! You're the best."

Kara gave Nia a tight hug before dashing off.

'Time to go check on an old friend.'

***

Kara landed outside the DEO and marched her way to her 'old friend'.

"How are you doing it?" Kara asked as she slammed on the wall.

"Well isn't it my luck. The birdy has decided to visit the cat."

"Answer me!" Kara demanded. The glass started to crack.

"I don't know what you're talking about!" Psi shouted.

"How did you get in my head? How come I feel this fear in every bone in my body? What did you do to me!"

"Nothing silly bird." Psi backed away from the glass and sat on the bench. "I haven't been able to do anything since you put this stupid lock on me. Not to mention the 24/7 surveillance keeping me from escaping."

Kara's eye twitched and she clenched her fist.

"It sounds to me like the birdy has some problems she can't solve. Sad how easy it is to break the Girl of Steel."

Kara punched the glass; it almost broke. "You better not be behind this," she threatened. "And you better pray I find the person behind this!" Kara shouted as she walked out the room, her hand twitching.

'Dammit,' Kara muttered as she rubbed her sore hand. 'I really thought she was behind this. shirt! It's game night.'

Kara flew out the window to get her apartment ready for her friends.

***

"Damn Kara. I can't believe you won again!" Lena exclaimed, gently punching her shoulder.

"Don't feel bad. No one has dethroned this queen in quite some time," Kara boasted, making broad royal gestures.

"I remember when you first came to Earth and didn't know what uno was. I miss that."

Kara shot Alex a glare and Alex stuck her tongue out.

"Has anyone thought about Kara using her x-ray vision?" Lena piped in.

The group collectively turned and stared at her. Kara's eyes flashed red.

"I'm just saying, she doesn't have her glasses on. They're leadlined, right?"

"Yes I do believe that Lena is correct." Brainy turned and stared at Kara.

"Fine." Kara swung around and put her glasses on. "You want to test it? Let's go. Rematch. Glasses, on."

The room was dead silent, everyone waiting for Lena's response.

"Deal. Get ready to lose, Kara Zor-el."

"It's on, Lena Luthor."

The rest of the room joined in the next game, but no one was surprised it was down to Lena and Kara.

"Uno," Lena flirted. She held up her card for everyone to see.

Kara didn't respond. She placed a plus 4, which made the room gasp. Lena grumbled as she drew four more cards.

"Red."

Lena grumbled again.

Kara slowly got through her hand until only 2 cards remained. Lena placed down a card and smirked.

"Uno!" Kara called out, beating Lena to it. Lena drew four cards.

"Do you want to keep going? Or will you just admit defeat and bow down to your Queen." Kara made another regal gesture with her hands, being very careful to keep her cards hidden.

"Never," Lena snarled.

Kara placed down a card.

"Uno." She mocked Lena's move from merely a few minutes ago. Kara prayed no one could see her sweating.

"fork," Lena mumbled, placing down a red 5.

Kara smirked. She placed down a blue 5.

"I win," Kara boasted. "Still think I cheated?" Kara asked as she played with the glasses sitting on her face.

"No," Lena mumbled. She was in full pout.

"Face it Lena," Kara started as she walked over to where Lena sat. "No one can dethrone the queen."

Lena looked up into Kara's eyes and Kara felt heat rise to her face. Her hands started to sweat, for a different reason than before. Kara knew she was blushing.

"Alright!" Alex shouted. "Let's play a different game."

Kara looked to Alex and gave her a silent thanks.

Kara scurried away from Lena and Winn pulled out a different game. Kara wasn't paying attention to his choice; she was stuck in her thoughts.

'Why did Lena think I was cheating? Does she not trust me? Does everyone else think that? And why was I blushing?'

"Are you okay with what Winn chose, Kara?" Nia asked.

"Huh? Yea. That's fine."

Kara glanced around as everyone started picking their pieces.

'Of course he'd choose monopoly. He insists on playing it everytime. Even though he always gets out first.'

Kara rubbed her arm slowly as the game started. She rolled the dice and went through the motions, using her standard tactic of buy everything she lands on. She took some deep breaths, but nothing seemed to help her calm down.

"Hey," Kara interjected. "Is anyone else hot?"

She looked around at the sea of shaking heads.

'Oh. So it's just me. Get it together idiot. It's just game night. There's nothing to be on edge about.'

Kara continued playing. She nearly broke the table when she landed in jail for the third time in a row.

"Oh come on!" Kara shouted as she slammed her piece on the corner spot.

"Kara, are you okay?" Lena asked.

"I'm fine. Go enjoy boardwalk and probably win this stupid game."

"Kara. What's wrong?" Kelly asked, taking note of the unusual behavior.

"I said I'm fine!" Kara yelled. She brought her knees to her chest and hugged them tight.

The game continued.

'Dammit Kara. Get it together. They're just worried about you. Why are you upset? Why are you attacking your friends? They just want to help.'

"I'm gonna go get a drink. I'll be right back." Kara stood up and left the table, not waiting for a response.

"Can you grab me a coke!" James shouted.

"Uh, sure!" Kara replied from inside the fridge.

'This is nice. I could just stay here for a while.' Kara rummaged through the fridge for James's coke. She found one burried deep in the back and pulled it out. She walked back to the table.

"Here ya go," Kara said as she handed James the coke.

"Thanks." He grabbed it and set it on the table. "Weren't you going to get something?" James asked.

"Huh?" Kara mumbled as she sat down. "Oh... I uh, changed my mind?"

No one questioned it.

"Your turn." Nia handed Kara the dice.

"Finally!" Kara shouted. She rolled doubles.

The game continued without a hitch, until Kara landed on boardwalk.

"Oh come on!" Kara exclaimed. "It can't possibly be that much!"

"3 houses Kara. Fork it over." Lena held out her hand for the money.

"Alright alright. Just give me a second."

Kara felt everyone's eyes fixed on her as she rummaged about for her money. The room was silent. Everyone was waiting on her.

'Come on Kara. Hurry up. Just admit you don't have enough and forfeit.'

Kara's hands started to shake.

'No, it'll be fine. I just, need a minute to think.'

'They're all waiting on you. Your slowing down game night. Just end it. They don't want to be with you anyways.'

'That's, that's not true.'

Kara's breathing sped up.

'Yes it is. You know it is. They're just pitying you. The poor little alien with nowhere else to go. They don't want to be with you. They don't like you. Who would possibly want to hang out with a lost alien who's parents didn't even want her.'

"Stop it!" Kara shouted. She brought her hands up to her head and started rocking back and forth.

The room started to spin. She could hear every little beep of a microwave, every pet scratching at a door, every scream from her dying planet.

"Make it stop. Please. Everyone just stop."

Tears streamed down Kara's face. She continued rocking and pushing her hands into her head, trying to stop the noise.

"shirt." Alex ran to Kara's room without another word.

"Kara are you okay?"

"Try to take some deep breaths."

"You're safe here."

"It's okay Kara. Breathe."

Kara continued rocking back and forth. Her thoughts swirled about in her head, one insult after another.

"Everyone stop," Alex stated as she ran out of Kara's room. She was holding something in her hand.

Alex knelt down next to Kara and held up the earmuffs. She slowly pulled Kara's hands away from her head; Kara didn't resist. Alex slid the muffs over Kara's ears and pulled her sister into a tight hug.

'It stopped. Why did it stop? What's going on?'

Kara took a slow, deep breath, and let herself be hugged by Alex.

'Oh.'

Kara's tears slowly stopped falling as Alex rubbed small circles into her back, never letting go. Kara eventually opened her eyes and spoke.

"Thank you, Alex." She hugged her sister back.

"You okay now?" Alex asked, still hugging her.

"Yea. Thank you."

"Anytime." Alex gave her a tight squeeze before finally letting go.

Kara felt sick as she realized all of her friends just witnessed her total breakdown.

"So uh. That happened," Kara laughed, trying to brush it off.

"Do you want to talk about?" Kelly asked. "Only if you want to."

"Well um, you guys deserve to know..."

Kara rubbed her arm and looked to Alex.

"She had a panic attack."

The room stopped and stared at the Danvers sisters.

"I used to get them a lot when I first came to Earth, after... Well after everything. I uh. I haven't had one since Psi showed up..."

"Kara is claustrophobic, which usually is what triggered it," Alex explained.

"Is that why I found you staring at the closet?" Nia asked, concerned for her friend.

Kara nodded, but couldn't bare looking at her.

"Sometimes," Alex continued. "sounds and noise cause it, which is why I got the special earmuffs Dad made for her."

"Jeremiah knew I struggled with my powers." Kara looked up and smiled. "He made me these glasses, so I could control my x-ray vision. He also made a few pairs of earmuffs that keep me from hearing anything. I forgot I even had them, until now..."

"Kara," Kelly started. "This is nothing to be ashamed of."

Kara looked up at Kelly, tears forming in her eyes.

"But I'm the Girl of Steel. I can't just break because the microwave keeps beeping."

"But you're also a person." Kelly came over and put her hands on Kara's. "You deserve as much as help as you give others. You don't have to do this alone."

Kelly squeezed Kara's hands, and Kara looked her in the eyes.

"You sure?" She asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm not disappointing anyone?"

"No Kara," Kelly answered. "You're not a disappointment."

"We love you" Alex said as she pulled Kara into a hug. "All of us do."

"I'm impressed with how well you've handled everything," Lena chimed in. Everyone turned and looked at her. "I'm just saying! I turn to the bottle every other night, and I'm not the last daughter of an entire planet."

Everyone laughed at Lena's statement and Kara gave a slight smile.

"If there's anything we can do, please let us know." Nia smiled over at Kara.

"I uh," Kara stammered. "Maybe a group hug?"

Immediately, everyone surrounded her and squished her in the middle of all their love and support (and their arms). She was squished up next to Lena and couldn't help but blush. Tears fell onto Lena's shirt as Kara's walls came crashing down. For the first time since she got to Earth, Kara let herself break.

***

After the tears stopped falling, everyone returned to game night and the rest of the night was filled with joy and laughter. Kelly talked to Kara about joining her PTSD program, to go along with her regular therapy. After a moment's hesitation, Kara agreed.

Weeks passed and Kara started feeling better. She kept an eye out for whoever was causing the breakdowns, but she couldn't find anything, or anyone.

'Maybe Psi was right...'

#whumptober2020 #no.18 #panic attacks #phobias #paranoia #supergirl #fic #aly writes #claustrophobia #kara has a n x i e t y #and also panic attacks #kara danvers x therapy #vent fic #seriously kara just needs to talk to a therapist god damn #this bitch's been through a lot

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nad-zeta · 4 years

Text

Matchup ^_^

Okay… So im hoping you’re still taking match-ups still, (if you’re not doing mash-ups, im sorry, you can ignore this.), and if you are may I ask for one?

Information: Female, 5’6-5’8 (Not sure exactly how tall I am.) I love to write, yet I don’t share much of it with others. I like to learn about different places, and would love to travel at some points. Conscious when it comes to meeting people, and have a hard time trusting people in general. I love the art of war, and while I wouldn’t want to be in one, watching one from (very) far away intrigues me. I also love to learn about different weapons, swords, throwing knives, guns, (I would love to learn how to use a sword and guns, know how to use throwing knives.) I do have very murderous thoughts, not gonna lie. I usually keep to the bitch face expression and death starring people. However if I do warm up to people I show them a softer and quieter side. I whisper a lot if im tired, or sometimes just do it randomly. Very insensitive towards feelings. Mine and others, I won’t notice anything related to emotions if you don’t tell me. And that’s about it.

Please and thank you!

P.s, For Ikemen Sengoku

Another P.s, Im sorry if you aren’t doing them or i did it wrong. also sorry if any part of this sounds insensitive.

Match up!

Hey there love I hope you didn’t have to wait too long for this @thedollarstoresatan ^0^ Thanx so much for the request and I hope you enjoy it!

So I match you with……………. Nobunaga

Lol not gonna lie I had some trouble deciding between Nobunaga, Sasuke, and Kenshin lol

When you first arrived in the past, you were met with a sword at your throat. Mother dearest didn’t like the idea of some random girl showing up and becoming their castle caretaker. This boy didn’t trust you at all, and your mistrust of him was painted over your face. Not gonna lie Hideyoshi backed down slightly when he saw the furious look in your eyes. If looks could kill, he would be dead. And with his sword at your throat and frustration levels rising you count help but imagine 100 different ways to kill Hideyoshi and dispose of the body. When you saw him back of you smiled a little at yourself, looks like he got the message. You now we’re staring at Nobunaga, who simply wore the most amused grin. You were definitely going to shake things up for them.

That night Nobunaga pulled a classic Nobu and invite you to his room to “warm his bed”. You obviously flat out refused him. So he instead opted to entertain himself by playing a game of go with you. You had never played but had really come to enjoy it. You had come to appreciate the war aspects without physically killing people. Nobunaga couldn’t help but smirk at the bright look you had in your eyes as you played. And honestly, your strategies were extremely good for a mere beginner. You almost had him beat with your first game. And that is when you let it slip that you loved the art of war. You explained that war and the strategies that go into it have always intrigued you. He was a little shocked to have met a woman who actually liked and understood the concept of war. The two of you spent the rest of the evening talking about his ambitions and playing go. He found it refreshing to have someone who could understand the difficult decisions he had to make. He loved the way your eyes lit up with curiosity when he would explain things relating to the art of war. Not only that but it always surprised him when you too could give him some insight to what you had learned about it.

Classic Nobunaga took it upon himself to teach you everything he knew about war, even if that meant taking you with him to the battlefield. He would recommend strategy books for you to study to feed your thirst for knowledge. He would also let you help him write up important documents teaching you about all the ins and outs and behind the scenes happenings of actually planning a battle. Although you were having some trouble with reading and writing things in this time period, cause everything looked so squiggly and foreign. Nobunaga rudely just assumed you were illiterate, that was until you whipped out your journal. It looked a bit tattered and old, and only had a few more blank pages left. It started off as a bullet journal, but being trapped in the past had inspired you to start writing all sorts of little short stories. As Nobunaga started to read through it, he was amazed at some of the stories you had written. Although it was now his turn to struggle reading your futuristic handwriting. He taught you how to read and write, and in return, he demanded that you write him some stories and read them to him at night after your game of go. He loved listening to your stories, and he was amazed at how just listening to your writing would teleport him into a different world.

You were definitely the most amusing fireball. Nobunaga has never met a woman quite like you. You had once again saved his life and was offered a reward. Everyone looked at you with expecting eyes thinking you would ask for some jewelry, clothes, or something cute. But nope, instead, you wanted to learn how to use a weapon. You plainly stated that you wanted to learn how to use a gun, sword, and/or learn to throw throwing knives correctly. The blood practically drained out of Hideyoshi’s face. He looked at you with mama bear worry in his eyes profusely, trying to convince you to chose any other reward. The trouble-making trio all just laughed amusingly at the lucky little charm wanting to arm herself. Once the laughter died down Nobunaga spoke “Very well if my fireball wants to learn how to use a sword as a reward I shall grant it,” Mitsuhide also spoke up at this time “I do suppose the little mouse can join Ieyasu in my shooting lessons,” and that is how you started learning to use weapons. In the mornings, you and Nobunaga would train, and in the evening, Mitsuhide would teach you to shoot. By the end of the month, you were a pro in both and was now convincing Nobunaga to show you how to use throwing knives. He really enjoyed spending time with his fireball. You were a quick learner with a lot of grit and resilience. And you loved to see Nobunaga sweet side, after training, he would always take you up to his room to apply salve to all your cuts and bruises from training. Not to mention the fact that he would share his candy stash with you as a reward for a job well done

It is a well-known fact that Nobunaga loves going on adventures and traveling, his dream apart from conquering japan is to travel the world. He is one of the few people who believes that you won’t fall off the face of the earth if you sail the seas and that the earth is round, not flat. You tell him about all the places you’ve been to and have seen, and he is in awe. The two of you actually sneak out quite a lot to go on little adventures even if it is just to a nearby region for tea, feeling the wind in your hair and seeing different sights along the way makes it well worth the trip. Both of you also would often talk about future plans after japan has been unified. The both of you may or may not have made a pact to travel the world together when all the wars are over.

Honestly, Nobunaga loves your soft sweet side. That side is reserved for him only. You love how you don’t have to worry about having to notice specific emotions Nobunaga. He is very open and honest with you and will tell you exactly how he feels when he feels it. He knows that the best way to deal with a problem is facing it head-on without beating around the bush. The two of you have the most open, honest relationship with each other. Both of you are blunt and insensitive on the outside. However few know that when the two of you are alone, and together the cinnamon roll within comes put. Nobunaga loves it when you randomly whisper talk to him. He has also noticed you do this when you are tired. Whenever you speak to him like that, he pulls you straight to his room, sits down while pulling you down with him. He gently lets you rest your head on his thigh while he gently starts playing with your hair. “Rest now fireball, I’ll be right here to watch over you.” The two of you had long ago confessed your feeling for each other. And you really enjoyed sweet soft moments like this.

Nobunaga will do anything to see his little fireball happy. He loves to spar and talk battle and strategy with you. You bring new ideas and perspectives to the table which he really enjoys. The two of you can often be found off traveling and going on adventures. Much to mother dearests disapproval. You guys would just disappear for days leaving nothing but a note saying BRB. You guys definitely get an earful from Hideyoshi about these spontaneous adventures. When you are home, the two of you will just sit together on the balcony drinking some sake and spending the night in each other’s arms. Nobunaga will usually drop a few kisses on your forehead and cheek to remind you of his love and affection

Other potential matches………………….. Kenshin,

Thank you so much for the request, dear! I hope you enjoy and have a good day!^3^

#oda nobunaga #ikesen nobunaga #ikemen sengoku nobunaga #nobunaga oda #matchups #ikesen matchup #ikemen sengoku matchup #matchup nobunaga #submission

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beyond-the-mirror · 5 years

Text

Nocturnal Encounters - An Incubus! V x Reader story

After a long time, it’s finally here!

Fourth chapter is finished, also titled “A casual conversation with a demon over tea”

This took me a lot of time and to be honest I’m not exactly sure what to think of this chapter but maybe that’s just my insecurities talking.

Hope you enjoy it!

------

Fourth Night: Deal

You couldn’t move, you couldn’t speak, in fact you had even forgotten how to breathe at all. The man whose image had plagued your dreams for many nights was now standing right in front of you in the flesh. His eyes, you couldn’t stop staring at those beautiful eyes.

The only thing that brought you back to your senses was the smell of something burning, looking around to see the cause you found a horrifying creature laying dead at V’s feet, its body slowly disintegrating in ashes.

“What is that?” you questioned a bit panicked.

“Just a Mara, a lesser demon that induces nightmares to feed directly from a soul. Nothing to worry about now, your unwanted guest has already been dealt with and shall bother you no longer” V explained to you in a soft voice before waving his hand, the glass doors of the veranda opening at his will to ventilate the room and let the smoke from the demon’s corpse dissipate.

You sat there in silence observing his graceful movements, mind full of questions for the mysterious one, and yet you dared not to speak. As the moonlight peered into your bedroom, you noticed the peculiar shadow projected from his figure. His shadow was as tall as him and had the same built, but the disturbing thing about it was that it appeared to have a pair of horns protruding from its head, folded wings sprouting from its back as well as a long slim tail that followed all his movements.

Fear paralyzed you completely.

The man before you was not human. He was not human at all.

V turned to you before slowly approaching you, each tap of his silver cane against the floor made you increasingly nervous. Each step he took forward made you scoot away from him little by little until your back was against the headboard.

Finally stopping before you, he lowered himself at your level on one knee, his eyes never leaving yours.

“You’re not human, are you?” You inquired, your voice unexpectedly calm considering how scared you were feeling at the moment.

His answer didn’t surprise you at all.

“No.”

Feeling tears forming in your eyes, you looked away from him and towards the floor, his presence and reality of the current situation overwhelming your mind and body.

Carefully, he reached a hand to caress you cheek gently before lifting your chin with his long fingers. Your eyes locked once again with his hypnotizing ones.

“Do you remember the promise I made you those nights ago?”

You nodded silently. His hand moved once again to cup your face, wiping away a few runaway tears that escaped your eyes from time to time. You let out a sigh and closed your eyes, the softness of his actions almost felt like a lover’s would.

“Little wanderer, I will not let anyone or anything hurt you again… not even my very own self. I can sense you are still wary of me, but I assure you I mean no harm.”

“Then why are you here? There must be a reason for you to appear in my dreams.”

You didn’t know where did that small glimpse of bravery come from, but you firmly inquired him about his intentions, having enough of whatever game he had been playing with you all the time his presence invaded your slumber.

“V… what the hell are you?”

He smirked at your courage, an extraordinaire human you were indeed, to act so demanding in the presence of a demon. And yet when he closed the distance between yourselves you immediately flinched, back to a meek trembling mouse cornered by vicious panther.

His breath fanned over your lips.

“I am an incubus.”

A deafening silence.

Incubus.

“I am here because I want you, my dearest.”

------

Tonight was definitely the most bizarre one you had in your entire life.

Here you were sitting on your bed, a warm cup of tea in your hands, while an incubus sat in front of you on a chair he had summoned out of nowhere, cup of tea in his hands as well. Although deep down you weren’t truly surprised considering the demonic activity in Red Grave, having a cup of chamomile tea with a demon in the middle of the night just couldn’t be the strangest incident in the city if you were being honest.

The moment you heard his confession you felt your heart drop in your chest, a dizzying sensation taking you over, it seemed the lingering tension and your panicked state before had finally taken their toll on you.

A worried expression took over V as soon as he noticed your weakened state, an aftermath of the mara feeding from you surely. How he wanted to hold you, alas he decided it was best to give you a bit of space so as to not overwhelm you, it was clear you still felt scared and nervous around him after all. Yet that didn’t stop him from staying at your side concerned of your well-being.

“Are you alright little one? Is there anything I can do for you?”

“I’m… I’m fine, i think it’s already passing. Maybe some tea will help me.”

He offered to prepare it for you, but you declined his offer, insisting in rather doing it yourself. He accepted your decision, your mistrust towards him completely understandable. That didn’t mean he couldn’t offer his hand for support as you stood from the bed, accompanying you to the kitchen by your side.

As you were about to fill the kettle with water, you hesitated. Instead you turned around and asked him if he wanted a cup too, and flattered by your offer, he accepted. What kind of gentleman would he be if he dared to deny a lady such kind offer?

And that’s how you both ended in this situation. Quite the story huh?

You cleared your throat after taking a sip. “So… would you care to explain what did you mean before and why have I been dreaming about you?”

He let out a hum before answering “We incubi mainly feed from energy released by a human soul; however our approach differs deeply from other creatures from the underworld. When an incubus finds a human attractive to them, they plant a ‘dream’ in the human’s mind that makes the soul release said energy, thus the incubus is able to feed and sustain themselves for a while.”

He paused to take a sip from his tea before continuing. “However this is not enough to survive. We are demons after all, creatures born of sin and vice. It is not an exaggeration to state that greed does run in our veins. That’s why we eventually need to present ourselves to our chosen human, so we can start the process of courting them. If one succeeds, the energy we obtain at the end will be exponentially larger than before. You were not supposed to find out about my true self this soon though. Alas, this unexpected incident with the mara requires my plans to be rearranged for the time being.”

You listened to his explanation attentively, his beautiful voice basically luring and capturing your attention with ease. Your mind wandered to his voice reading to you and reciting poetry to your ears alone, the thought making you shiver unintentionally.

Glancing at him, you noticed his now empty cup. You stood up and offered to take it back to the kitchen, however he politely refused, instead he used his magic to teleport the now empty cups to the sink so they can be washed later.

“Allow me to thank you for the tea, it was quite delicious.” A genuine smile appeared on his lips, making you almost forget that V was actually not human but a demon nonetheless. He was so gentle and well-spoken, even though your experience with his kind was null before this encounter, you could very well assure he was the kindest demon that ever existed in the universe.

You smiled at him in return “Oh no, I’m the one who should be thanking you actually. You saved me from that creature.”

V stood up, the chair vanishing in the air, and once again cupped your cheek.

“It is my pleasure, my little wanderer” Oh god, they way he pronounced those words in such a sensual voice, his tongue rolling over each letter like honey. Then there were those eyes again, once again you felt them pulling you towards him. You immediately stepped back and looked down to break the eye contact, having figured if you didn’t look at him directly, you wouldn’t fall for his spell at all.

“I think it’s best if I go to sleep for now, thanks for again for saving me V but i’m afraid I’m gonna ask you to leave-“ you turned towards your bed and you would have climbed on it already if it weren’t for a pair of hands taking hold of both your arms from behind you.

You let out a gasp as V pressed his form against yours.

Leaning down so his lips were next to your ear, he spoke “Did I tell you what type of energy do we incubi feed from? I did mention it in my explanation, but I’m afraid I failed to specify more about it.”

Oh god his voice.

It sent shivers down your spine and made goosebumps appear on your skin.

“Aren’t you curious to know little wanderer?” One of his hands started rubbing your arm up and down while the lightly ran the thumb of his other hand over your bottom lip.

You could feel your blood rushing upwards tinting your cheeks a lovely shade of red, your lips letting out soft whimpers. He chuckled at your sweet sounds of innocence, you swore you felt the vibrations to the very core of your being.

“We feed from the energy released from the highest ecstasy. The one that can only be obtained through sexual activity.”

The way the words left his lips, his tongue rolling smoothly over them.

You gasped when V took your ear in his mouth, nibbling it gently and playing with it. The same trance you would fall into during your dreams with him was back, making your body pliant to his ministrations.

But you hesitated, what if he was lying to you? What if he planned to hurt you in the end and this was only a façade? Doubt filled your mind, and eventually the words fought to come out of your mouth “N-no… Please stop…”

And to your surprise he did. He took a step back from you but not before placing a soft kiss on the back your head, giving you the chance to turn and face him. You dared not to look at his eyes, scared of what you would find in them. Lust? Possessiveness?

With a graceful finger under your chin, he gently lifted your face but you refused to open your eyes.

“Open your eyes little one, look at me.” He spoke so softly, so sweetly. His voice relaxed you, and slowly your eyes fluttered open. In his deep eyes you found kindness instead, looking at you intensely like a long-time lover.

“It’s true I feel a vast burning desire for you sweet (Y/N); however, I also want you to know I’m willing to stop my advances shall you choose to reject me.”

Taking your hand in one of his, he lifted it to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss on your knuckle. Warmth spread along the skin where his lips touched.

“I want to properly court you, to shower you with the affection you deserve, anything you desire, you shall have it. All I ask in return, is for you to allow me to indulge in carnal pleasures from you. But understand this my little one, only with your full consent shall I proceed. The decision is completely yours, you are the one with absolute power and freedom in this deal of ours.”

His words felt so sincere and authentic, his eyes sparkling with complete honesty. His entire posture, his aura, even his voice made you feel calm and safe, and although doubts still lingered deep inside you, you were sure now that V would never hurt you.

However that didn’t change the fact that you’ve never had sex before. You never really felt the need to experience it and an opportunity to do so never seemed to arrive before. Still you had to admit you were a little curious, sometimes wondering how would it feel like to be held in the arms of a man in such a passionate embrace. You had touched yourself before yes, but you were curious to see if experiencing sexual pleasure with someone else would feel even better than that.

On the other hand you were scared. As an incubus, V merely saw you a source of energy to feed from, something to help him survive, you thanked him for being considerate enough to at least ask for your consent to it, even going as far as treat you affectively so that you can get some pleasure from the experience too. But what if in the end you find yourself wanting more than just that? What if you start developing feelings for V? You weren’t sure to handle falling in love with someone that would never return your feelings, what if you refused to accept this was merely a one-time exchange?

Your mind and body were torn between accepting V’s offer or refusing it. You needed to think about it more

“I’m not sure what to answer, this has been completely sudden. Can I have some time to think about it?”

You were kind of expecting V to react negatively, annoyed that you wouldn’t decide just yet. He surprised you once again when he simply nodded, that gentle smile never leaving his face.

“You may take all the time you need to consider it, dear (Y/N). In fact…”

With a graceful movement of his right hand, a black feather materialized just above his palm, a feather you immediately recognized.

Noticing your awestruck expression, he let out an amused chuckle. “Familiar isn’t it? This feather I gifted to you the night of your first dream. It’s how I’ve been able to make sure nothing bad ever happened to you little one.”

Handing the feather to you, he continued “When you make your decision, when you feel absolutely sure about your answer, I want you to kiss this feather, and I shall come to you in an instant.”

“Thanks, V.” You smiled at him, a lovely blush decorating your cheeks.

“Now now my precious (Y/N), I’m afraid it is terribly late. May I tuck you in if it’s not too inappropriate for me to ask?”

You nodded bashfully. Climbing onto your bed and laying down, you let V pull the covers over you. For some reason, you felt much warmer and comfortable than before, maybe he was using his magic to help you relax and fall asleep?

“Now before I go…” He then leaned down and pressed a loving kiss on your forehead. You let out a small gasp as a little orb of light emerged from where he pressed his lips, floating aimlessly before he caught it with his fingers.

“Just taking back the dreams I planted in you. I figure they have bothered your slumber more than enough, my apologies if they ever caused you any disturbance.”

You saw him pick his cane that was resting on the wall next to the bookshelves before going toward the glass doors that lead to the balcony.

“Sweet dreams form a shade, O'er my lovely infants head. Sweet dreams of pleasant streams, by happy silent moony beams.” He turned to look at you one last time “Goodnight my little one. I’ll see you soon.”

And with those words, he disappeared into the night.

#devil may cry #devil may cry v #dmc 5 #incubus!v #v x reader #v x you #Incubus #fanfiction #fanfic

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chloca-cola · 5 years

Text

Defenseless Chapter 7 (end)

TW: IT'S SMUT. HIGGS SMUT. THIS IS NOT A DRILL. Unprotected sex, hand job, fingering. Angst

Word count: 2,286

A few weeks passed, Sam never came back to confront Mara again, and in the back of her mind, she was worried that she's severed whatever friendship she had with him.

Higgs kept her occupied a lot with his lips, now that the wall had been broken, it was like he couldn't get enough, and she's slowly learning what he enjoys. A nibble followed by a tug always caused him to make this low whining moan that resulted in a shiver to running through her body.

She had read many books over the years she was alone, many she found when she raised different places, and one of the books she read had a quote that had always stuck with her.

"One day you will kiss a man you can't breathe without and find that breath is of little consequence." Mara had never really understood what it meant all those years ago when she first read it, but now that she has kissed Higgs, it all makes sense to her.

She is still cautious most days, still shying away from him but wanting nothing more than wrap herself up in him. She has wanted this for so long but she doesn't know how to process her feelings. She could tell by how Higgs reacted to even her slightest touch that he is having the same problems, maybe not all the scale she is, but they are both learning how to properly react to each other.

They had finally been able to make it back to her place with all of Higgs's belongings he had wanted, and she helped him set up the solar panels that had gotten them into trouble in the first place.

"These better be worth it." Mara grumbled, as she wiped her forehead, giving him a nasty look which cause him to chuckle.

"Trust in me, sweetheart. I know what I'm doin'." And she was not happy to admit she had missed having electricity. However she was not prepared for Higgs's music list.

He was teaching her house to use his computer when she stumbled across it. There was a diversity of music, but one song in particular stood out to her. 'Mountain Lullaby' by Jealous of the Birds.

Mara's breathing hitched in her chest as she clicked play, eyes instantly swimming with tears, which caused Higgs lift his chin from her shoulder where he had been resting it, to look at her better. This was the song she always had sung to Julia.

Mara sang along in her soft voice, tears falling like rain, hugging onto herself, drowning in the memories of her poor sister, who barely got to live, barely got to taste what life had to offer. It's why Mara fought so hard to survive, she had to live for Julia who hadn't got the chance. Higgs moved his hand to the mouse and clicked pause, and just listened to Mara's soft cries, barely audible with her damaged larynx.

He wasn't sure what to say to help with whatever memory she was dealing with.

"I used to sing it to Julia." Higgs knew she had a little sister, but she never told him what had happened to her. Mara only ever told him she had to kill her brother. "Trevor killed Julia. Strangled her, I guess because I was not home for him to kill for fun. Julia did not have DOOMs, she could not repatriate...she could not come back. She was only 9." Higgs studied her profile as she stared at the computer screen, and he minimized the screen to break her form this trance.

"Darlin', I'm sorry your brother was such a dick to the both of ya." She shrugged a shoulder, almost coldly, scoffing softly.

"It does not matter anymore. He is dead." Her voice was eerily calm and almost dissociated and Higgs frowned at her. He knew this could be a normal response to her trauma, her "backing out" of the whole situation, but he also knew that wasn't healthy.

Like he had any reason to think the way someone else is handling their trauma was not healthy after everything he'd done in the recent past.

Higgs touched under her chin with his finger tips, and she jumped at the touch, the chair sliding away from him and she looked at him as if she hadn't forgotten he was even there, hands brought up, balled into fists, ready to defend herself.

"Easy, easy, my little wildfire. It's just me, you're safe." He could see she was still back in her memories, as if she was seeing Trevor in front of her and not Higgs. Her eyes darted around the room, trying to find things to ground her to the present.

"Higgs…" She finally breathed out, her entire body relaxing and she placed her head in her hands, and he moved to her, squatting before her, gently touching her knees.

"He's gone, he's never going to her you again. Even if he wasn't dead, if he ever come near ya, I'd fuckin' kill him myself." His words were quiet and laced with promises. "If anyone tries to hurt ya, I'll kill them." Mara removed her hands to look him in his eyes, and they held the same threatening promises his words conveyed. His hands came up and cupped her face, his thumb rubbing gently across her scar, and she shivered under his touch, not out of fear, but a whole new feeling.

Higgs straightened back up, his hands still on her face, and she stood with him, her head tilted back so she could still keep eye contact with him. Higgs felt it too, the sensation coursing through his whole being, and he didn't hesitate in leaning down to kiss her.

Her hands grasped his wrists gingerly, this new feeling burning through her nerves felt different than the other times they've kissed. She wanted more, needed more, and soft moan sounding in her throat, her grip on him tightening.

Higgs tilted his head, lightly running his tongue along her lips. She wasn't sure what he wanted, but she cautiously parted her lips for him, and his tongue slowly entered her mouth. She made a surprised noise, eyes flying open, having never done it before, but feeling his tongue massaging against hers, she quickly relaxed into it, moving her own tongue with his.

Her eyes slowly closed again, welcoming this new development, as Higgs began to slowly walk her backwards towards the bed. Her legs bumped against the edge, pulling although startled noise from her, before she lost her balance and fell back onto the bed.

Mara looked up at Higgs in shock before they both laughed, and she sat up, pulling at the hem of his shirt, her instincts taking over. Higgs quickly obliged, lifting his shirt over his head and tossing it across the room as she worked at the button of his pants.

He bent at his waist slightly, pulling at her own tank top, she raised her arms obediently so he could remove it, and it joined his across the room. He openly stared at her chest this time, since this time it was with permission, and not just confusion in her part. He cupped her breasts gently and she breathed in quickly, having never had someone touch her there. Higgs almost seemed lost himself as he massaged her breasts, and she leaned back on her hands, giving him more access to her.

Higgs dipped down and kissed along the curve of her breast, his left hand still gently fondling her other, his mouth curiously enveloped her already pert nipple and Mara's head lolled back limply, her back arching, thrusting her chest to him more.

He circled his tongue around the sensitive bud and he was rewarded with a shuddering breath, he then kissed up the valley between her breasts, running his tongue up her throat before capturing her lips for another heated kiss. He could feel her body trembling against him as he begot laid her back and he laid on to off her. Mara felt his hard cock as he pressed himself into her more. She gasped upon feeling it, and she began to squirm beneath him. He pulled back and looked at her.

"Are you ok with this, Mara? We can stop if you're not ready." Higgs voice was husky with arousal, as he absently rutted himself against her, she was panting heavily, and her eyes glazed as he gave her friction she wasn't aware she needed.

"I am ready, Higgs. Please." She almost begged, wrapping her arms around his neck, leaning up for another kiss, but he chuckled, and she gave him a strange look.

"We're still wearing too many clothes, honey." Mara blushed, giggling softly, releasing him, and he stood back up. Higgs tied off his boots while unzipping his pants and pulled them down, kicking them aside. Mara sat up, extremely curious what Higgs is going to look like completely naked, and she hooked her fingers in the waistband of his boxers, pulling then down slowly, his erection bobbing free of the clothing.

Higgs stepped out of them next, cautiously watching her as her green eyed roamed his body, looking for any sign of rejection from her, which would kill him. However, he saw nothing but adoration as her hand reached out and trailed her fingers along Higgs's shaft. Examining his cock slowly, his eyes fluttered shut, a low groan rumbling in his throat.

Mara gently enclosed her hand around his shaft, his own gripping hers, showing her how to stroke him just the way he likes, and he moaned at the feeling.

Her own arousal growing, a throbbing feeling between her legs, as she moved her hand over his velvety warm skin. Once he felt she had the hang of it, he removed his hand, and let the sensation overtake him. His hips bucked, thrusting his organ into her hand more, moaning her name this time, causing a full body shiver to flow over her.

"Mara…" He breathed out, touching her hand again and she froze, he was breathing heavily, and he smirked down at her. "It's your turn now." Mara blushed, as he gently pushed her back into the bed, undergoing her jeans, and she lifted her ass enough for him to slide her pants and underwear off. She felt overly exposed, and she drew her legs up to help cover herself. He smiled patiently at her as he pulled her legs back down, gingerly spreading them for him.

Mara blushed more, covering her face with her hands, as she felt his fingers probing her slick folds. His finger found her swollen clit, giving it a few slow circling rubs and she gasped breathlessly, removing her hands slowly to see a playful smirk on his lips.

"Feels good, don't it, darlin'?" His voice was low as he watched her coming unraveled at his ministrations, his name filling the air as he gently eased into her, pumping in and out slowly, curling his finger, before adding another.

Mara's back arched again and Higgs felt her walls fluttering around his fingers, and he pulled his fingers out, Mara crying out at the sudden stop, falling back onto the bed in a needy heap; her quick panting the only noise in the room.

He kissed a trail up her stomach, his tongue tracing along her many scars, before finally reaching her mouth again, where he gave her several soft kisses.

He reached didn between them, his heart racing from nervousness, as he lined himself up at her entrance.

"Now, you're still on with this, right?" He questioned again, her own heart pounding in her chest from her own anxiousness, but she liked him in his eyes, cupping his face softly.

"I am ready Higgs, I promise." She reassured him, leaning up to kiss him as he slowly entered into her.

He took his time, so he wouldn't hurt her, but once he was fully seated, they both let out a blissful moan into each other's mouth.

Higgs pulled back, looking deeply into her eyes, in utter awe that someone like her wanted to be this close to him. After all these years, he's finally proved his daddy wrong.

Mara's thumbs caressed his cheeks as she adjusted to his girth, and after a few beats, she moved against him, letting him know she was ready to continue.

The pace he set was slow and tender, sharing several sloppy kisses, her hips rolling to meet his, euphoric that she finally knows what love feels like.

Soft moans, shuddering breaths, hands roaming and caressing each others bodies, nips, bites and gasps. Breathless confessions of love and devotion.

The pace of Higgs's thrusting only picking up as he got closer to his release, Mara's moaning in his ear sent shivers down his spine, causing him to grunt and trust even faster. Mara's own coil winding in her stomach as she was teetering on the edge.

One final hard thrust into her, pushed her over that ledge, her back arched high, her legs wrapping around his waist, walls milking him, as she whined out his name as loudly as her throat would allow. He growled at her release, quickly following her, feeling her with his warmth.

They both collapsed on the bed, huffing loudly, hearts pounding hard in their chests, hair plastered to their foreheads, Higgs buried his face in her neck, giving gentle kisses to the soft flesh there.

They were not perfect, their love may not even be perfect, but they both knew that together, they could learn to be perfectly imperfect for each other, for the rest of their lives.

@savage-rhi @disneymarina

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