#he is normally very aware and alert when it comes to detecting traps
Text
Meta is immune to all tricks except one
#kirby#meta knight#my art#this is just something silly that came to mind hdjkhdjk#he is normally very aware and alert when it comes to detecting traps#but if it involves his favorite food he turns his brain off#i love him
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
@lobiita (fuck u btw)
death isn't always simple. not always a single bullet, lucky knife to the chest, or even a clean hit to the head. sometimes it was ugly, and oh how this one was. she'd been left for him to find, body most likely cold by time he arrived. a warning some might call it. a suicide request to others. to go after the virus's ' lover ' ( a title some truly couldn't understand because how could something not even human find love ) was a sure fire way to meet death in a matter of days- if they were lucky to last that long.
she's left in a pool of blood. body was... in poor state- most bones visibly broken, crushed and protruding from body. face was bruised, the blood dried, yet in a way that appeared to be tear like in the way it had fallen down her cheeks. the jacket she'd normally have worn- the one alex had given her- was no where to be found. usually that would have protected her. why? because alex was always keeping her safe even when he wasn't there. such a shame she'd chosen today of all days not to wear it; that or she'd forgotten it in her rush to leave home that day.
in hand was a crumpled picture, one she'd forced him to take years back. around the time things finally became real for them. after the uphill struggle their entire relationship had been during the first year or two. image was of her thrown over his shoulders, arms wrapped tightly 'round. a large smile, sparkling eyes- bliss to say the least, written across face. he, of course being alex, looked bored. however, body language spoke enough for her to know he'd been content with the picture and pose. no longer was it pristine, the only blemish a ripped edge after getting caught one day. now, it was coated in blood, dirt, and perhaps dried tears.
loni was dead, truly. left to rot and for alex to find.
for the first time in weeks, alex stood entirely still.
it wasn’t that he needed rest; he had trekked mountains, cleared floor after bloody floor of skyscrapers, jumped into canyons because it was fun, but this? a crowded scene, police sirens & yellow tape, detectives hunched over & collecting samples; an overturned bike, blacks & smooth silvers scratched & splintered throughout the street, dented license plates flashing familiar digits, chillingly familiar. if the model & color weren’t to arise dread, the license would, & even the densest moron on the planet couldn’t deny the strands of hair & blood scattered throughout the sidewalk.
this was an abduction.
the sight chilled him to his core, internal mass writhing & coiling into itself, his arms bulging with the need to explode out & hit something; he wanted to yell at someone, but wearing the skin of captain leland matthews had granted him unrestricted access to the scene, & he couldn’t afford to let anyone know he was in town or risk loni’s abductors pulling something rash. captain leland would not snap under pressure, captain leland would not turn around & pulverize the mass of onlookers whispering & talking & flooding his head with nonsense while he needed to think, to act!
he just needed to think. panic would do him no good, & the viral abomination had appearances to keep. for now, he had to force his arms to steady, to embrace the cold brewing inside & to keep up appearances while he still had them. he needed to study the scene, & turn his claws on whoever was responsible. in time.
there was no fight, no bodies, no pools of foreign blood littering the scene. she hadn’t a chance to fight back, hadn’t dropped legions of her enemies before being dragged away, kicking & screaming. whoever did this knew exactly what they were doing, & hit her hard & fast. she didn’t have many rivals with that sort of firepower, much less the restraint to avoid putting on a show. mob bosses & supernatural criminals were an egotistical sort, they liked to send flashy messages. even loni didn’t have half a mind to restrain herself when she had a point to prove: the bigger she rose, the bigger the ego, try as she may to hide it.
she must’ve sent the wrong message to the wrong crew. they had to have hired someone strong or persistent, someone clean; scene aside, it couldn’t be traced conventionally. it looked like she’d been hit by a bus, yet the only trail present in the mess was vague, microscopic. blood droplets & sweat which could only be picked up by his extra senses, & a scent which was quickly being masked by the spread of onlookers clouding the area with their aromas. his eyes glanced upwards, hoping there was a cctv camera around: nothing, all destroyed by... something. something small, something odd, something which had residue on the rooftops.
interesting.
captain matthews had to excuse himself; slipping away through the crowd, pushing through the cameras & questions with more force than necessary, ignoring the cries of offense & pain all the while he made for the alleys, following that very trail to the top of the nearby buildings. what he found at the top was chilling: two craters, spaced evenly apart, as though something heavy & large landed there. either loni were abducted by a multi-ton rottingtaur, or something interesting was in manhattan.
dropping his disguise, he leapt between the rooftops until he could find a matching set, & lept around again until he found another. it took about ten minutes to find the trail: craters marking northeast, distanced several blocks each. it would’ve been difficult for anything he were aware of to make those jumps without wings, which would have mitigated the damage to the rooftops if present. anything barring himself, of course.
yet... no, that was impossible. alarming. thoughts he couldn’t help but consider. blackwatch was gone, the virus only existed in himself, any traces of it were destroyed. he’d know if redlight or blacklight produced something in his city, the hive mind would alert him to it! something else had to be happening, some demon or bullshit ritual: something in this stupid supernatural world had to be behind this, & he was going to rip it to pieces when he found it!
so he ran, he lept, he slammed into buildings & shook their foundations with each dash, rocketing through the air like a living cannonball spurred with the intent of an arrow. the air cracked & shifted as he passed through it, the city becoming a nondescript haze beside him as he soared, his hawk-like gaze fixated on the next building, the next piece in this fucked up puzzle until, nothing.
the trail reached a dead end. a warehouse in the lower east side. a thermal scan showed nothing, no heat, no machines, no guards. not even a live captive, but... something was wrong. he could see something in the window, right in the center of the warehouse; everything cleared save for that speck in the darkness. eyes narrowed at it, a familiar splotch of color as a ray of moonlight bounced off a billboard. it looked like a body. this had to be a trap, but alex couldn’t waste any more time.
leaping in through the skylights, showering glass all over the concrete floor, alex made his entrance; claws ready & eyes sharp. yet there was nothing here, just himself, a bloody floor & a crumpled mess of a corpse: a woman, nearly flattened, with bones splintering out of her limbs, chest dented into itself, laying in a crater filled with drying blood.
alex took a step forward, mouth agape.
her eyes, those usually warm, oaken eyes were glassed over & empty, only the light of the moon present in them. she could usually brighten the room with those eyes, warm even the densest viral monstrosity to his core with a glance, though he rarely showed it. why had he never showed her?
alex took another step forward, trembling.
her hair, usually long & flowing, looked like it was ripped off her scalp & left in shreds: what little remained on her head was thrown around her body in a rage. he noticed some of it was spread around the room, & her scent flooded his senses as a result. he could smell only her, & blood; her blood, splattered around the room in a gory mess. it intoxicated him in the worst ways, filling the monster with a rage which shook him to his very core.
alex took no more steps. the room moved for him.
trembling, creaking as tendrils from his legs seeped into the foundation & took root: twisted vines of flesh splitting & emerging haphazardly in the concrete around him, his body unable to keep itself contained as a pressure built within itself. his cool eyes disappeared alongside his features as his body became more of a human-shaped coil of tendrils, licking & hissing at the air around him. they spread everywhere, from the steel beams to the catwalks, strangling this warehouse at the foundations: alex’s hate-filled mass going everywhere.
a sound escaped him, hollow & reverberating unnaturally in the air: more grief & pain than anything remotely human. his tendrils thrashed, splintering the concrete & twisting the beams, the building itself groaning & coming apart by the rivet, his agony growing by the moment, moans turning to screams which cracked the glass. the skywalks caved in, light fixtures & glass falling around him. not a shard, not a rock dared touch her body, for his tendrils formed a shell around her, his angel, his hard-headed, stupid angel. not even as the building crashed & collapsed beneath the strain did she take another scratch.
oh, loni.
amid the rubble he stood, body pristine, not a fleck of dust touched it after he reformed himself. his eyes were emptier than usual as they stared at what used to be loni valadian, the image of her fate forever burning itself into his mind, which even now raged with the specters of his sin: judging his failure to protect her, cursing their fates, screaming to just die. even as he grieved his greatest love, he received no respite. for what did a monster deserve, if not agony unending?
mercer ground his fists together, clenching his teeth. it didn’t make any sense, how did this happen? who did this? they were supposed to have time, centuries! how could he let this happen? why didn’t he protect her? he could feel the legion of devoured blackwatch operatives laughing at his plight, the closest thing to a break they’d get in their hells. but his hell had just begun anew.
as did the hell he intended to bring upon whoever did this.
kneeling before her, he tried to scoop loni’s flattened body from the concrete, tendrils digging into the ground to peel her body from it. so much of her was gone, there was practically nothing solid left in her. all these years, all their fighting, their growth, reduced to this: a ruined building & a body hardly resembling a full human. what had she done to deserve this? a life of nightmares ended with a bludgeoning.
as he finally peeled what remained of her from the floor, alex’s eyes caught something. not a note or clue, but something which had suspiciously survived this wreck. eyes narrowed at the paper still clutched in her pulped hand before softening as he caught the photo. he’d nearly dropped her when he saw it.
of course, she’d kept it.
of course.
he’d have to tell ivan about this, & the others. fuck.
glancing at her face one last time, something else caught his attention. a sensation he’d hadn’t felt in years. a nagging buzz in the back of his mind, something which had been silent for years. the hive was active, a buzz in the night, but it was masked, intelligently so. this wasn’t blackwatch, this wasn’t a straggling infected which had been buried in the cement, this was intelligent. not too unlike himself, but too different to call out to. it felt his mind, & panicked, floating away. but it was there. he remembered it.
the parasite.
the supreme hunter.
it was alive, it did this. it killed loni.
tendrils writhed along his back. a growl rising in his throat.
he didn’t know how it had survived, or how it avoided detection for so long, but it was going to regret being made. it was going to regret coming back to life. but first thing’s first, he had a burial to plan.
fuck.
#lobiita#☣ — all thinking all moving all dying. ┊ msg.#☣ — contagion walking apocalypse. ┊ ic.#saved.#gore /#idk what else to tag this as#it was morbid as fuck#if anyone reads this u can thank lobiita for this#fuck her#i hate her for making me write this
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
CHICAGO FIRE – VIRAL (S01E16)
[keys clinking]
Matt Casey: Thanks, mom.
Nancy Casey: Matt…
Matt Casey: I’ll see you tomorrow morning. We can… talk then.
Nancy Casey: Oh, oh, oh, jeez.
Matt Casey: Mom, why are you hiding from your parole officer?
Nancy Casey: [sighs] I went out last night. If she tests me, I won’t
pass. Just please get rid of her
Matt Casey: [stammers]
[sharp knocks at door]
Matt Casey: Ms. Kendrick.
Lady 1 (Kendrick): Hi, Matt. I’m here to check in on Nancy.
Matt Casey: Yeah, you just missed her. She’s out for a walk.
Lady 1 (Kendrick): I can wait.
Matt Casey: Um, my shift is about to start.
Lady 1 (Kendrick): Fine. Try later.
Matt Casey: Thank you.
cutscene
Clarice: Leslie.
Leslie Shay: Ms. Larocque, so sorry. This is just how it is when I’m
on shift. My apologies.
Clarice: Um, look…
[kissing sound]
Clarice: Daniel’s rejected her offer. He wants full custody.
Leslie Shay: I thought you said he’d take the deal.
Lady 2 (Ms. Larocque): It was a good deal, but the father has a
strong case.
Leslie Shay: Does he?
Lady 2 (Ms. Larocque): Let’s look at it from his lawyer’s
perspective. We’ve got a switch-hitter
who married a man, conceived a child
with him, then left him, and took the
child to go live with her former lesbian
lover, a woman with a time-
consuming and very hazardous
occupation.
Leslie Shay: Oh, come on.
Lady 2 (Ms. Larocque): I’m just looking for ways to normalise this
scenario as much as possible.
Leslie Shay: Normalise?
Lady 2 (Ms. Larocque): For instance, you two shacking up with a
skirt-chasing firefighter is not helping our
cause.
Clarice: I-I was just trying to tell her how Kelly has been so helpful.
Lady 2 (Ms. Larocque): Ladies, you want me to convince a judge
that you’re serious about being a family?
Then you need to get Clarice and this
baby into a warm, loving, nurturing, and
yes, normal home.
Clarice: [sighs]
Leslie Shay: Okay. We’ll get our own place.
[station alert buzzes & blares]
[siren wails and horn honks]
Chief Boden: (over radio) All companies be aware, we have a
lightweight truss construction heavy structure fire
Victim 1: I can’t get down the stairs. It’s too hot.
Chief Boden: All companies, third-floor rescue. Casey, get me two
ladders.
Matt Casey: Got it.
[indistinct chatter]
Matt Casey: Keep it flowing. Herrmann, Mills, Cruz, up the second
ladder
[grunts]
Gotcha.
Peter Mills: Come on, I got you, man. All right?
You’re doing good, man.
Victim 2 (Girl/Child): [coughs]
Leslie Shay: That’s it sweetheart.
Peter Mills: Good job, man.
Victim 1 (Dad): [coughing]
Peter Mills: Okay?
Victim 1 (Dad): Yeah.
Victim 2 (Girl/Child): What about Hudson? You have to get him.
Victim 1 (Man): The dog.
Victim 2 (Girl/Child): Hudson! Hudson!
Matt Casey: Cruz!
Mouch: Stay put, Cruz.
Joe Cruz: Wait a minute! I can hear him.
Come here, boy!
Chief Boden: Cruz, get out of there!
Matt Casey: Cruz! Cruz!
Joe Cruz: [grunts]
Hudson!
Hudson!
Where are you, boy?
[dog barking]
[creaking]
[dog barking]
Christopher Herrmann: Come here, come on.
Joe Cruz: Aah!
Matt Casey: (into radio) Man down! (over radio) Man down!
Mouch: I’m going.
[Pass alarm beeping]
- title -
[pass alarm beeping]
Matt Casey: Cruz, call out!
Cruz!
[beeping continues]
Matt Casey: Hey, Cruz.
Cruz!
Mouch: You okay, buddy?
Joe Cruz: Uh, yeah, yeah, I think so.
Matt Casey: All right. We got to move.
Joe Cruz: [groans]
[creaking]
[indistinct shouting]
Matt Casey: Mouch!
Joe Cruz: Mouch! Mouch! Mouch!
Mouch: I’m okay.
Joe Cruz: Mouch!
Matt Casey: This way! Watch your feet!
Joe Cruz: Watch your feet! Gotcha!
Let’s go!
Mouch: [panting]
[indistinct background chatter]
Gabby Dawson: Mouch, you okay?
Mouch: Yeah.
Joe Cruz: Are you sure, man? Let ‘em check you out.
Mouch: I’m fine.
Gabby Dawson: Hey, Casey, how about you? You all right?
Matt Casey: Yeah.
Leslie Shay: You got a second-degree burn here.
Chief Boden: Take him to the hospital.
Joe Cruz: It’s nothing, Chief.
Chief Boden: Take him to the hospital.
Victim 2 (Girl/Child): You okay? Good boy.
Christopher Herrmann: Cruz is out of control.
cutscene
[dog growling]
[back up beeping]
Kelly Severide: Hey, Whaley, any new updates on Renee?
Eric Whaley: She’s okay physically. They’re going to keep her on a
72-hour hold.
Psychiatric observation.
Kelly Severide: Did you talk to her?
Eric Whaley: She wouldn’t see me.
I, uh, I don’t know what to do.
cutscene
Matt Casey: Thank you.
Gabby Dawson: Hey.
Matt Casey: Hey.
Gabby Dawson: How long are you going to freeze me out?
Matt Casey: I’m not freezing you out.
I gotta talk to Boden.
Gabby Dawson: Yeah, sure.
Matt Casey: Cruz is still in the ER. He’s telling doctors he wants to
come back and finish his shift.
Chief Boden: Did you happen to notice if Cruz’s bunker gear had a
cape sewn into it?
Matt Casey: No, Chief. It definitely does not.
Chief Boden: Then please dissuade your man of the notion that he
is invincible.
Matt Casey: Sure.
Otis Zvonecek: (recording) And that’s how our fellow firefighter was
saved today.
56 hits in less than an hour. Just tell me this thing’s
not going to go viral.
Gabby Dawson: Glad to see Mouch’s near-death experience can
help drive traffic to your podcast.
Otis Zvonecek: The whole point of the podcast is to show people
what we really do.
Christopher Herrmann: You’re supposed to be looking up how-to
videos on taping drywall.
Otis Zvonecek: All right.
Christopher Herrmann: We got to get back to fixing up the
Bombadier, all right. We’re behind
schedule.
Gabby Dawson: Oh, stop calling it the Bombadier. That name has
poisoned the well with the locals. We gotta…
re-christen it something else.
Otis Zvonecek: May I propose… Moustache Pete’s?
Gabby Dawson: No, you may not. We need something simple.
A single, evocative word like, uh, Solstice or
Perception or uh…
Otis Zvonecek: Pretentious? Or we could call it something fun like
Moustache Pete’s.
Christopher Herrmann: You can name it ‘out of business’ if we
don’t get back on schedule.
Otis Zvonecek: Okay, okay, here we go. How to tape drywall, part 1
of… 15.
Gee, you know who I bet’s really good at drywall?
Casey. Too bad somebody got on his bad side by
fraternising with one Detective Voight.
Leslie Shay: Hey, uh, listen, I need…
Kelly Severide: Hey, have I thanked you lately for opening your trap
about Renee? Because she’s currently in a psych
ward.
Leslie Shay: Kelly, she needs help. How fun do you think this is for
her?
Kelly Severide: Yeah. What did you want to talk about?
[station alert buzzes & blares]
(Over PA): Ambulance 61…
Leslie Shay: Tell you later.
(Over PA): Person down, Michigan and Upper Wacker.
Kelly Severide: [sighs]
cutscene
Matt Casey: Hey, Christie.
[door closes]
Matt Casey: I have a new proposal regarding mom. Give me a call
when you can. Bye.
Hey, Mouch. You okay?
Mouch: I came to you a while back, about Cruz… how there’s
something off about him, and you told me to shut up.
Matt Casey: In so many words, I guess.
Mouch: So are you still in charge of our truck, or do I have to go
around you and talk to Boden?
cutscene
[ambo door closes]
Gabby Dawson: Watching you and Kelly move back in and out of
that place is like watching a ping-pong match.
Leslie Shay: [chuckles] I know, I get it. I just hope he understands.
Lady 3 (Good Samaritan): I tried to get him to come inside a store,
but he won’t move.
Gabby Dawson: Hey, it’s too cold for you to be out here, hun.
What’s your name?
Man 1: Mick.
Gabby Dawson: Mick, can you stand up?
You think you can walk over to that ambulance?
Leslie Shay: Come on, Mick.
Gabby Dawson: Oh, yeah. We got you.
Whoa, 70 over 50. What are you on?
Man 1 (Mick): [grunts]
Gabby Dawson: [chuckles] Okay, fine. It looks like you might be
suffering from exposure, so we’re going to get
you to the hospital, all right?
Man 1 (Mick): No.
Gabby Dawson: Yeah.
Leslie Shay: It’s nice and warm at the hospital, Mick. You’ll like it.
Lots of pretty nurses.
Man 1 (Mick): Prettier than you two?
Leslie Shay: Come on, be realistic.
Gabby Dawson: Hey. Don’t worry about Severide. He’ll totally
understand why you need to move out.
Leslie Shay: I know, it’s just… after all the drama, it just sucks
having a lawyer make decisions about your living
situation.
Okay, Mick, just a little pinch.
Man 1 (Mick): [grunts]
Leslie Shay: Ahh! [pants]
[curtains drawing]
ER Doctor: We’ll keep trying to convince him to consent to a blood
draw, but we can’t force him to. And unless he does,
we can only guess at what transmittable diseases he’s
carrying.
Gabby Dawson: And judging from this cocktail of antivirals, you
must think this guy’s a walking petri dish.
ER Doctor: Hep-B’s always a big risk. Also Hep-C. The interferon
therapy should protect you against those, but given the
tracks on his arms and symptoms, I think we need to
treat you as though you’ve been exposed to HIV.
Leslie Shay: How soon can we test for HIV?
ER Doctor: Not for three months after exposure.
Here’s the first one.
Leslie Shay: [exhales]
Gabby Dawson: Hey, you’re going to be fine. The statistics are way
in your favour.
Leslie Shay: I mean, it’s like Russian roulette. Large bore needle
filled with this guy’s blood. If he has the hiccups, I’m
going to catch ‘em.
cutscene
[tv in background]
Peter Mills: Hey, uh, Lieutenant, I was hoping to ask you a question.
Um, I was looking at the list of up and coming classes
at the academy, and I’m… I’m trying to figure out which
ones to take to, if possible, make a move to Squad?
Kelly Severide: Let me eat my cornflakes first.
Peter Mills: Yeah. Yeah, sure.
Chief Boden: We can finish the exposure paperwork later.
Don’t worry, Shay, you’re getting the best care
available.
Leslie Shay: Thanks, Chief.
Kelly Severide: What’s wrong with her?
Gabby Dawson: Needle stick.
Mouch: Ugh. Was he sick?
Gabby Dawson: Yellow, track marks, and he didn’t agree to a blood
panel.
Peter Mills: You okay?
Gabby Dawson: I just want this shift to end. Casey hates me, now
my partner gets stuck.
Peter Mills: Casey?
Gabby Dawson: Yeah, forget it. It’s fine.
Peter Mills: Screw him. He doesn’t understand you, it’s his problem.
Gabby Dawson: Yeah. Yeah, thanks, Mills.
cutscene
Leslie Shay: Even if it’s just Hep-C, it’s, you know, 80% of infections
are chronic, and um, I’d be on disability for months,
and if Daniel’s lawyer finds out… [lightly sobs]
Kelly Severide: You’re getting ahead of yourself.
Leslie Shay: [sighs]
Kelly Severide: Wait for the test to come back.
Leslie Shay: Yeah.
[sighs] Um… the lawyer said that living with you isn’t
normal enough [voice breaking] So I have to move
out. I’m sorry.
Kelly Severide: You do whatever it takes to keep you, Clarice and
that baby together.
Leslie Shay: Yeah. Thanks.
cutscene
[tv in background]
Joe Cruz: Hey, Mouch.
Mouch: How’s the arm?
Joe Cruz: Burned but fine.
Hey, man, I wanted to thank you again.
Mouch: It’s in the job description, right?
Joe Cruz: Yeah.
Hey, also, I think I owe you an apology.
[sighs]
cutscene
[knocks on door]
[door shuts]
Gabby Dawson: [sighs] I realise you may not understand why I went
to Voight.
I didn’t have another choice, and it made all the
difference in Antonio’s case.
Matt Casey: He threatened me and my fiancé.
Gabby Dawson: He saved my brother, Casey.
[knock on door]
Mouch: Cruz is back, in case you’re interested.
[door closes]
Joe Cruz: I screwed up, Lieutenant. It won’t happen again, believe
me.
Matt Casey: I tried that once already. When you told me you could
live with your sins, that turned out to be a lie.
Joe Cruz: Lieutenant, you got to believe…
Matt Casey: This is not a conversation! If you’ve come to hate
yourself, if you’ve decided that you don’t deserve to
live, well, that’s your problem. Do you wanna stand
at the ceremony where we pin Mouch’s badge next
to Darden’s because he burned to death trying to
save someone who’s already dead inside? If your
badge isn’t on Boden’s desk by next shift, I’ll go to
the police about Flaco. It’ll mean the end of my
career too. But hey, I’ll pound nails for a living.
What I can’t do is stand by and watch you
endanger one more of my men.
[somber music]
cutscene
Lady 4 (Real Estate Agent): The kitchen’s just being redone. New
cabinets, new appliances, laundry
hook-ups are right over there.
Leslie Shay: Okay.
Um… school wise, uh, I know Wesley’s young, but…
Lady 4 (Real Estate Agent): Oh, it’s never too early to think about
that. We’re in the very desirable Bell
elementary school district. But I
have to be honest with you. I’ve
got a lot of people interested in
this unit.
Leslie Shay: Okay, can you just give us, like, a second?
Lady 4 (Real Estate Agent): Sure.
Leslie Shay: Thank you.
Clarice: Uh, okay. Thank you.
So the uh, the lawyer says that Daniel’s attorneys could find
out about the needle stick during discovery.
Leslie Shay: Look, Daniel’s lawyer can say whatever he wants.
What that judge is going to see is a family ready to
provide Wesley with a warm and loving home… in
a very desirable school district.
Clarice: You’re right [chuckles lightly]
I’m sorry.
We’ll take it.
cutscene
[buzzer]
Kelly Severide: [sniffs]
Renee Whaley: [clears throat]
[scoffs]
[door closes]
Renee Whaley: What, you expected a straitjacket?
Why are you here exactly?
Kelly Severide: Because your brother asked me to come.
Renee Whaley: Poor Eric. He thinks he’s finally cracked the puzzle
that is Renee.
All this nonsense about me sleeping with Dean.
Kelly Severide: I’m not here to argue about that.
Renee Whaley: Oh, right, because as my life turned to ashes, you
just coasted on and forgot all about me.
Kelly Severide: You don’t know anything about my life.
Renee Whaley: [scoffs] I know that Kelly Severide is doing just fine.
We’re done. Take me back.
Open the door.
Kelly Severide: Renee.
[keypad beeping]
[buzzer]
[door closes]
cutscene
Otis Zvonecek: Dawson, you have absolutely no idea what you’re
doing, huh?
Gabby Dawson: What are you talking about?
Otis Zvonecek: Call Casey.
[sighs]
[metal clanging]
[wall plaster dropping]
Christopher Herrmann: What the hell?
[metal clangs & wall plaster dropping]
Otis Zvonecek: Whoa.
Christopher Herrmann: Stephanidies didn’t say anything about a
safe.
Gabby Dawson: What do you think’s inside?
Christopher Herrmann: Nothing good. My luck don’t run that way.
[metal clangs]
Otis Zvonecek: Well, let’s open it and find out. Worst-case scenario,
it’s empty.
Christopher Herrmann: What if it contains a decomposed head of
some gangster that went missing in the
‘20s? Next thing you know, this bar gets
wrapped in crime scene tape, and we
can’t get back in here.
Otis Zvonecek: If there’s a mobster’s head in there, Moustache
Pete’s gonna be famous.
Gabby Dawson: We’re not calling it Moustache Pete’s.
Otis Zvonecek: Yes we are.
Christopher Herrmann: Forget it. That safe is bad news.
Look out.
Gabby Dawson: Hey Herrmann!
cutscene
Matt Casey: Each week my shift moves up a day. Tuesday and
Friday this week, Monday and Thursday next
week. I’ve drawn up a list of house rules that
mom would have to agree to. Uh, curfews, when
she can have visitors. You can add whatever you
want to the list.
Christie: Matt, no.
Matt Casey: Christie, I need you. Please, at least on the days I’m on
shift.
Christie: Will I have to learn how to lie to her parole officer too?
[chair slides back]
Christie: Mom.
Nancy Casey: Christie.
You look wonderful.
Wow, you realise this is the first time we’ve all been
together as a family in, like, 15 years?
Matt Casey: Yeah.
Nancy Casey: I guess the real purpose of this meeting is to [sniffs]
discuss the mom problem.
Christie: Okay, fine. I’ll talk to Jim.
Matt Casey: Okay. Now let’s eat.
The chicken sandwich is great, by the way.
Christie: I’m a vegan [clears throat]
Matt Casey: Since when?
Christie: [scoffs] Going on ten years, Matt.
Matt Casey: I did not know that. I… wow.
Is that like a vegetarian, or is it the eggs thing? You
can’t eat anything?
Christie: Oh my gosh.
Matt Casey: What?
Christie: Do I seriously have to explain this to you?
Matt Casey: What? No, that’s fine.
cutscene
[knock on door]
Kelly Severide: Hey, did you get my message?
Eric Whaley: Yeah. What did she say?
Kelly Severide: Nothing that matters. She’s angry.
Eric Whaley: At me?
Kelly Severide: At me. At… at… at everything.
Look, I-I’m sorry, but all this was against my better
judgement, and now she’s spinning out, so…
Eric Whaley: No, I get it. I get it. Thanks, Kelly.
This is, uh, it’s my last shift at 51. I’m glad we got the
chance to work together.
[door shuts]
cutscene
Mouch: Is Cruz gonna grace us with his presence today?
Matt Casey: I don’t know.
Mouch: You talk to him?
Matt Casey: I did.
Mouch: How’d that talk go?
Matt Casey: Don’t worry about it, Mouch. I talked to him. That’s all
you need to know.
[locker door shuts]
cutscene
Priest: “You brood of vipers, who warned you to flee from the
coming wrath? Produce good fruit as evidence of your
repentance. Even now, the axe lies at the root of the
trees. Therefore, every tree, which does not bear good
fruit will be cut down and thrown into the fire. I am
baptising you with water for repentance, but the one
who is coming after me is mightier than I. I am not
worthy to carry his sandals. He will baptise you with
the Holy Spirit and fire. And do not presume to say
to yourselves, ‘we have Abraham as our father.’”
Child 1: Look, mom, a fireman.
Priest: “And raise up children to Abraham with these stones. Then
Jesus came from Galilee to John at the Jordan to be
baptised by him. John tried to prevent him, saying, ‘I need
to be baptised by you, and yet you come to me?’ Jesus
said to him… [continues speaking in background]
cutscene
Otis Zvonecek: I read the whole thing, front to back. There’s no
codicil in this deed about any safe.
Gabby Dawson: We bought the bar, lockstock, and barrel. That
means the safe rightly belongs to you, me and
Otis.
Otis Zvonecek: Along with whatever’s inside. Whether it’s an old
stamp collection or bearer bonds or, gold
doubloons.
Gabby Dawson: You’re outvoted Herrmann, two to one.
Christopher Herrmann: We didn’t buy that bar hoping to find
buried treasure. We bought it as an
honest investment. And for the first
time in my life, I feel like I’m onto
something good and real. Now
whatever is in that safe, somebody
put it in there and locked it away for
a reason. Why don’t we leave it alone
and get on with our plan?
Gabby Dawson: Yeah, we’re gonna open the safe.
Otis Zvonecek: Seconded.
[station alert buzzes & blares]
(Over PA): Truck 81, Ambulance 61, Battalion 25. Bomb squad
assist, Wrightwood and Jesse.
Dispatcher: (over radio) CPD be advised, divert all traffic. Bomb
disposal unit on site in Lincoln Square.
Peter Mills: So what exactly is our role in a bomb squad assist?
Christopher Herrmann: Nothing. Not unless the bomb tech snips
the wrong wire.
Matt Casey: What’s the story, Chief?
Chief Boden: A tenant committed suicide in his car around back,
shot himself in the head. But the police are suspect
because the deceased was turned down four times
by the CPD, and there is a gasoline smell coming
from the inside.
Man 2 (Bomb Tech Squad Lt): Zoom in.
Our mast camera confirmed the
place is wired.
Man 3 (Bomb Tech): We should cut our way in.
Kelly Severide: We have access to the apartment above?
[whirring]
Man 3 (Bomb Tech): That’ll do it.
Kelly Severide: Great, we’ll get out of your way.
[indistinct radio chatter]
Man 3 (Bomb Tech): Whoa. There’s a woman down there.
[suspenseful music]
Leslie Shay: The neighbour say it’s his ex-wife.
Man 2 (Bomb Tech Squad Lt): My guy will go in and see if it’s
secure and your guys can bring
her out.
Chief Boden: (into radio) Severide, you sure you want (over radio) to
do this?
Kelly Severide: (into radio) We’re here, right? (over radio) Gonna
need a jump bag, though.
Chief Boden: (into radio) Copy that.
Kelly Severide: All right. Okay.
Man 3 (Bomb Tech): Carpet’s wet. Gasoline.
She’s been stabbed. Come on down.
Kelly Severide: (into radio) Dawson, Shay, she’s got a steak knife
stuck in her abdomen.
Gabby Dawson: (into radio) Pulse?
Kelly Severide: (over radio) Weak.
Hey, can you get us out that door?
Man 3 (Bomb Tech): There’s quick, and there’s safe. Which do you
want?
Kelly Severide: I wanna save this woman’s life.
Man 3 (Bomb Tech): Huh.
Kelly Severide: Huh?”W-What huh?
Man 3 (Bomb Tech): A small incendiary device set to spark the
gasoline. This’ll take a few minutes to
disarm.
Kelly Severide: She doesn’t have a few minutes.
Man 3 (Bomb Tech): I got two more wires splitting here. It’s wired
here too. Headed… Here we go.
I got at least 5 pounds of mixed ammonium
nitrate. Well that plus the gasoline is a
fertiliser bomb.
Kelly Severide: (into radio) Hey, Chief, (over radio) is everyone
back?
Chief Boden: (into radio) You just get yourself down here, Kelly.
Gabby Dawson: (into radio) How’s she doing, Severide?
Kelly Severide: (into radio) Weaker.
Gabby Dawson: (over radio) How much blood’s on the floor?
Kelly Severide: (into radio) Uh, it’s not that much.
Gabby Dawson: (into radio) Then she’s bleeding internally. You
gotta move.
(over radio) Pack that knife, so it doesn’t shift when
you move her.
Kelly Severide: (over radio) Where the hell’s that jump bag?
(into radio) Whaley’s here.
Gabby Dawson: (over radio) Use all the gauze and tape he’s got to
keep it secure.
Eric Whaley: Someone’s always got it worse.
Kelly Severide: Ain’t that right.
(over radio) Packing around the knife. Hey, we need
that door open now.
Man 3 (Bomb Tech): (over radio) Attempting to disarm the door.
Chief Boden: (into radio) Kelly. Kelly.
Man 3 (Bomb Tech): (over radio) We’re good. Door’s open.
Kelly Severide: (over radio) Woman’s coming out.
Eric Whaley: Who says engine only knows how to put out a fire?
cutscene
Matt Casey: Okay. I’ll talk to Boden.
[door shuts]
Mouch: [sighs] What happened, Joe?
[knocks on door]
Joe Cruz: I kicked in that door, convinced Leon was in there.
I even knew I was too late.
But it wasn’t Leon, it was Flaco.
Mouch: Dead. It was Flaco, and you were too late.
Joe Cruz: All I could think was, if I pulled him out of those flames, I
might as well throw Leon back in.
Mouch: Ah, you don’t know that.
Joe Cruz: I thought that God was just handing me the answer to my
problems.
But now I know it was the devil. I thought I could run from
him, non-stop. First one in, last one out [shaky breath]
And then I almost killed you. I could have killed Otis or
Herrmann or Casey, all because I’m weak [sobs]
But now I know… I’m the one that has to suffer, not you.
Mouch: Joe, I forgive you.
Joe Cruz: [sobbing] It’s not right for me to bring my sins into this
house and have my brothers sacrifice for what I did.
Mouch: Joe, listen to me. I forgive you.
Joe Cruz: [sobs]
cutscene
Chief Boden: What can I do for you, Casey?
Mouch: Lieutenant! Can I have a minute?
Matt Casey: Now’s not a good time, Mouch.
Mouch: Yes, it is.
[door closes]
Mouch: You don’t have to do this to him.
Matt Casey: There’s more to it that you know, Mouch.
Mouch: He told me everything. Now I don’t know if he was waiting
for God or Flaco’s ghost or just somebody to say it, but
he needed to know what he did was okay. He screwed
up. He knows it. But he was taking care of his family.
How far would you go for the ones you love? How far
have you gone?
[door closes]
cutscene
Peter Mills: [chuckles]
[phone rings]
Leslie Shay: Hello?
Yes, this is Leslie Shay.
He consented to a blood draw.
Gabby Dawson: That’s good isn’t it?
Leslie Shay: Mmhmm, mmhmm.
Okay, thank you.
He’s clean, he tested negative for everything [sigh of
relief]
Oh…
[giggling]
cutscene
[buzzer]
[door shuts]
Man 4 (Orderly): Good luck, Renee.
Renee Whaley: Yeah, thanks.
For real?
Kelly Severide: Come get in the car. There’s something we need to
see.
Renee Whaley: Go to hell.
Kelly Severide: You’ll full of it, you know that?
Renee Whaley: Oh I am, huh? Is that gonna get me into your car?
Kelly Severide: Ignore everything that’s real, go ahead.
Renee Whaley: Whatever.
Kelly Severide: Your brother was a hero today.
Renee Whaley: That is so low.
Kelly Severide: You stopped, didn’t you?
30 minutes. Then I take you anywhere you want to
go.
cutscene
[saw whirring]
[metal clanging]
Gabby Dawson: [sighs] It’s just a box.
We never should have opened this.
cutscene
[car door shuts]
Matt Casey: Mom’s just getting her things.
Christie: Okay.
Matt Casey: Thanks for agreeing to this, Christie. I really think it’ll
work.
Christie: Yeah, well, tomorrow morning at 8:01, she’s all yours
again.
Matt Casey: Understood.
Christie: Friend of yours?
Matt Casey: Nope
Nancy Casey: That’s Cheyenne.
Matt Casey: Your old cellmate?
Nancy Casey: Yeah.
�� You two gave me back my freedom, but I don’t want
to be your problem anymore. So I’m gonna go stay
with Cheyenne until I figure out what’s next.
Matt Casey: Mom, I don’t think your PO is going…
Nancy Casey: Aww, don’t worry I’ll sort things out with Kendrick.
But I’m not gonna be the wedge that drives you two
apart anymore.
Oh, be a brother and sister again, okay? You know,
be there for each other.
Hey, how’s it going?
Lady 5 (Cheyenne): Hi.
[car door shuts]
cutscene
Lady 4 (Real Estate Agent): Are we gonna sign the lease or not?
Leslie Shay: Yes, we are. We definitely are, I’m sorry. I can’t get a
hold of her. Um…
Oh, hey.
Clarice: Hey.
Leslie Shay: Did you get my message?
Clarice: Yeah, that’s, uh… great news.
Leslie Shay: We should sign the lease.
Clarice: Uh, actually, would you mind giving us a second?
So, um… Daniel offered to settle. You know, split custody, I
mean, if I move to New York with the baby.
Leslie Shay: Good, that’s great. He blinked.
Clarice: I took the deal
Leslie Shay: What?
Clarice: I just, I can’t keep fighting him anymore, Les. So I’m gonna
go to, uh, I’m gonna go to New York.
Leslie Shay: No, Clarice. Just stand up to him. We can win this.
Clarice: I’m leaving tonight.
Shay…
cutscene
[engine rumbling]
Renee Whaley: Okay, I get it.
Kelly Severide: Come on.
[car door shuts]
Renee Whaley: [scoffs]
[huffs]
Kelly Severide: It’s quieter than I remember.
Renee Whaley: Please don’t.
Kelly Severide: You’re the one who said life never looked simpler
than it did from right here.
Renee Whaley: Well, that was crap. Sometimes a view is just a
view. [exhales]
Kelly Severide: You know, I never had anything close to a real
relationship since you.
Renee Whaley: Really?
Kelly Severide: One girl I liked… really liked… but she left. Or I let
her leave. I should have made it work, but
sometimes, it’s easier just to let things fall apart.
Renee Whaley: I slept with Dean.
And now I see you, and I see my family. And all I can
see is what I lost.
Kelly Severide: Sometimes a view is just a view.
Renee Whaley: [chuckles]
[sniffles]
Kelly Severide: I’ve missed you.
Renee Whaley: I figured you hated me.
Kelly Severide: Oh I did.
But not anymore.
[engine revving]
[door closes]
[car door closes]
[engine starts]
- end -
Definitions:
Skirt-chasing = A man with amorous intentions who habitually seeks our female companionship
Lightweight truss construction = Consists of top and bottom members that run parallel. These are referred to as chords and are made of wood. These chords are cross – connected for support by wood that forms a web like pattern. The wood members are connected together with a fastener made of stamped sheet metal containing spikes
Hep-B = Hepatitis B is an infection of the liver caused by a virus that’s spread through blood and body fluids. It often does not cause any obvious symptoms in adults, and typically passes in a few months without treatment. But in children, it often persists for years and may eventually cause serious liver damage
Hep-C = Hepatitis C is an infectious disease caused by the hepatitis C virus (HCV) that primarily affects the liver; it is a type of viral hepatitis. During the initial infection, people often have mild or no symptoms. Occasionally, a fever, dark urine, abdominal pain and yellow tinged skin occurs. Hepatitis C can usually be treated with antiviral medicines. These need to be taken for several weeks. You can catch Hepatitis C from contact with blood of an infected person, such as sharing needles. It’s very rare to catch it from having sex.
Interferon therapy = It is a possible treatment for a number of different types of cancer. It is also used to treat conditions other than cancer including Hepatitis B and Hepatitis C
HIV = Human Immunodeficiency Virus (HIV) is a virus that damages the cells in your immune system and weakens your ability to fight everyday infections and disease. HIV can be transmitted from 1 person to another. There’s currently no cure for HIV, but there are very effective drug treatments that enable most people with the virus to live a long and healthy life.
Codicil = An addition or supplement that explains, modifies, or revokes a will or part of one.
Ammonium nitrate = Is a chemical compound with the chemical formula NH4NO3. It is a white crystalline solid consisting of ammonium and nitrate. It is highly soluble in water and hygroscopic as a solid, although it does not form hydrates. It is predominantly used in agriculture as a high-nitrogen fertiliser. Ammonium nitrate, which is used in fertilisers and bomb making, is a salt made from ammonium and nitric acid, and is highly explosive. The more ammonium nitrate, the bigger its explosive capacity. Once a reaction is sparked, ammonium nitrate explodes violently.
PO = Probation officer
#Chicago Fire#Chicago fire department#One Chicago#chicago fire imagine#chicago fire script#chihard#chihards#matt casey#jesse spencer#Leslie Shay#Lauren German#chief boden#wallace boden#eamonn walker#peter mills#Charlie Barnett#mouch#christian stolte#joe cruz#joe minoso#Christopher Herrmann#david eigenberg#gabby dawson#Gabriela Dawson#Monica Raymund#Kelly Severide#taylor kinney#otis zvonecek#brian zvonecek#Yuri Sardarov
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
Superhero Interrogated
my hero academia oc whump commissioned by @everythingbaku
content warnings: torture, drugging, captivity, blood, very brief emeto mention
—
Waking is slow. Ren—bouncy, energetic, excitable Ren—is normally the first one up, rising with the sun while his husband grumbles about needing more sleep. Now, though, he feels sluggish and discombobulated, his eyelids impossibly heavy. Either he’s hungover from partying hard at a rager (unlikely, getting blackout drunk isn’t really his scene), or… something’s wrong with him.
Groaning, he cracks his eyes open. His vision is blurry, and the world is cast in black and white. Wincing, he turns his cheek away from the too-bright light, squinting at his surroundings. His tongue is dry, and he feels… off. It takes a moment for him to process the sensation, but when he does, his heart spikes.
He’s been drugged.
His awareness is quickly returning, and he realizes he’s not lying in his bed. No, he’s sitting in a chair, his wrists bound to the wooden arms, his ankles tied to the legs. His neck aches from his head being tipped back for however long he was out. When he lifts his head, the room spins and makes him woozy. He slams his eyes shut and takes several deep breaths until the feeling passes. When he no longer feels faint, he opens his eyes again to assess his situation.
Ren has been kidnapped. That much is obvious. He’s wearing his civilian clothes, so maybe whoever captured him doesn’t know he’s a hero. He’s a shapeshifter, so stealth is his trademark, but his inability to alter the color of his eyes (violet) and his hair (steel blue) sometimes makes him easy to detect. He’s been wearing colored contacts and a baseball cap to compensate, but… hopefully his cover hasn’t been blown.
He looks around the small concrete room, empty except for the chair he’s tied to and the led-lights shining overhead. He’s facing the door. It’s made out of heavy metal and doesn’t have a handle. The room he’s trapped in is more of a cell, really, and definitely not some amatuer goon’s basement.
“Shit,” Ren whispers to himself. He’s really gotten himself into trouble this time.
He perks up at the sound of footsteps, much more alert now. Someone’s just outside the door—multiple people, if his hearing is right. There’s the sound of multiple bolts being unlatched, and then the door swings open.
Three large, burly men shuffle into the cell, all of them wearing masks, effectively concealing their identities. They’re decked out in protective gear, and Ren notes the weapons strapped to their belts. They must be professionals. Ren swallows.
“Oh, good, you’re up,” one of them says, “Thought you might’ve overdosed. Hard to figure out how much to give you since you’re so tiny.”
Ren doesn’t validate the remark with a reply. Yeah, they’re not wrong. He’s not even five feet tall, and it sucks, but he can’t exactly help it, can he?
The cell is quiet for a minute or so. They seem to be waiting for him to speak, but he isn’t going to risk revealing anything incriminating. Finally, the goon who entered the room first, the tallest of them all, crosses his arms, taking a step toward him.
“Nekozawa,” he says slowly, and Ren stiffens. So they do know who he is. He changed his surname to Bakugou after he got married, but he and Katsuki have kept their relationship under wraps to avoid public outcry. Nekozawa is his father’s name and the name everyone knows him by.
He blows a strand of long blue hair out of his eyes. So much for undercover.
“And who are you supposed to be?” he replies snippily, tugging on his wrists to test his restraints. No give. It doesn’t look like he’s gonna be escaping anytime soon.
“You know who we are.” The man moves closer, lifting one booted foot and planting it on the space between his legs—not on his crotch but on the seat of the chair. Close enough to be intimidating (and probably a shitty political statement), but Ren isn’t easily cowed.
Sure, he can be gentle, caring, and loving. He has a soft spot for sweets and pastel t-shirts. His husband sometimes likens him to a kitten, simultaneously teasing and flirting with him. All of these things are true, but he’s still a superhero. He’s a badass, and he’s going to make sure these guys know it.
“Can’t say I do.” He shrugs in disinterest. “I don’t think I’d want to know you, anyway. You guys apparently don’t know a thing about hospitality.”
The man’s lip curls in distaste. “You have infiltrated our organization and have been collecting intel for months. You know more than we can allow.”
“When you say ‘we,’ you mean your bosses, right? If they’re so concerned, why don’t they come talk to me themselves?” Ren suggests. He doubts he’ll get the chance to land his eyes on the higher-ups of the criminal organization he’s currently trying to take down, but he might as well give it a shot, right?
Before Ren can blink, the man’s fist collides with his face. His head is whipped to the side, and he sucks in a breath as his punched cheek throbs in pain.
“Our superiors don’t have time to deal with the likes of you,” the man hisses, kicking the chair back. Ren falls hard, knocking the base of his skull on the floor. Stars dance across his eyes, and he groans, his head pounding. Fuck.
He must lose track of time for a moment because the next time he can see properly, his chair has been picked back up and he’s facing the goons once more.
“What do you want?” Ren asks gruffly. He’s not going to give them anything, not in a million years, but it might do him some good to figure out their agenda. They’re all so… composed, despite their violence. They’re clearly used to dealing with prisoners. No tricking them into letting him go, then.
“You’re going to tell us what you know,” the man who punched him demands, “and who you work for.”
Ren rolls his eyes, and the goon steps forward, fist clenched.
“I work for myself, thank you very much,” Ren quips, “Oh, and I’m not telling you shit.”
The hit comes, but he’s expecting it this time. Still, the blow to his already bruised cheek hurts twice as much as the first punch did. Stifling a noise of pain, he drops his chin to his chest. The coppery taste of blood quickly fills his mouth, and his tongue aches. He must’ve bit it.
A hand grabs a fistful of his long hair and yanks, forcing him to look up. The goon’s expression is unreadable, hidden behind his mask. “Will you cooperate or not?”
Ren grins, flashing his blood-stained teeth. “What do you think?”
The man lets go of his hair and steps away. Ren tips his head back, breathing heavily through his nose. He’s not as tough as he likes to pretend to be. Those closest to him know he’s a brave fighter who’s willing to die to protect his loved ones, and he has a public reputation as an advocate for civil rights. Still, he isn’t exactly eager to sacrifice himself or get hurt in any way. Living is pretty sweet—so is not being tortured, but it looks like it’s a little late for that now.
There’s an audible shuffle of heavy footsteps as the goons exit his cell, and the coor creaks as it swings shut. With a sigh of relief, Ren looks up—and he’s greeted by the sight of one lone man. Not everyone left the room, it seems. It’s the guy who didn’t speak earlier. He’s standing too close to Ren, his hands clasped behind his back.
Without a second of hesitation, Ren spits at him. The bloody projectile only makes it far enough to land on his shirt, unfortunately. Ren was aiming for his face.
The man doesn’t flinch.
“Cute,” he drawls, not even glancing down to examine the stain. “But you don’t have to pretend anymore, Ren Nekozawa. It’s just you and me now.”
Ren arches an eyebrow. “What, are you supposed to be good cop or something?”
The man chuckles, a hint of smile curling his lips. “I’m not good cop.”
Unease washes over Ren like an uncomfortable sprinkle of rain, damp and chilling. He tries not to let it show. “Bad cop, then? You gonna hit me some more?”
The man looks up at the ceiling as if talking to himself. “My associate was simply the prelude. Most people break from just the threat of violence. We figured you’d be a little less forthcoming, so I tagged along. I guess you could say I’m the main course.”
Ren pulls on his bound arms reflexively, just a little, and laughs humorlessly. “You gonna tear off my fingernails?”
“Maybe,” the man muses, “but probably not. I doubt you’ll need that much coaxing. You’re not as defiant as you pretend to be.”
Insulted, Ren scowls. “You don’t know me.”
The man nods in concession and begins to circle him like a shark. Ren doesn’t follow his path of travel, simply continuing to glare straight ahead.
“It’s true we’ve never met, but I know people, and you’re easy to read.” He cards a hand through Ren’s hair and twirls a blue strand with his finger. “You’re compensating for your size and apparent vulnerability. It must be difficult, being such a weak hero.”
Ren twists his neck around, dislodging the man’s grip, and tries to bite at his fingers. His teeth clamp around empty air, but his attempt does get the man to back off. Much to his dismay, the guy doesn’t appear threatened in the slightest.
“You’re not even good at using your powers. You stick out like a sore thumb with your height, your hair, and those eyes,” he continues, standing directly in front of Ren now. He plucks a small, thin knife from his belt. “So vibrant. I could help you, y’know. Cut them out, and you’ll be much less identifiable.” He positions the point of the blade just above his pupil, so close that Ren doesn’t even dare to breathe.
“Then again, a boy with two missing eyes might be hard to miss.” With a flick of his wrist, the man cuts a shallow line right underneath his eye. Ren gasps, gritting his teeth. Blood streams down his cheek like a river of tears.
“Fuck you,” he hisses, trying to maintain his bravado. His heart is jackrabbiting in his chest, and he’s gripping the arms of the chair with white knuckles. He won’t admit it, but he’s scared. He wishes Katsuki was here to protect him. So much for being a badass superhero.
The man hums, wiping the blood off the blade using the collar of Ren’s shirt.
“There are two ways this can go,” he begins, retracting the knife and replacing it with a much larger one. Ren eyes the jagged blade warily. “You can drop the tough-guy façade and answer every question I ask you—”
“Fat fucking chance!” Ren interjects, snarling. The man raises one unimpressed brow. His mask only covers his eyes, leaving the rest of his face on display. Ren briefly wonders if his lack of concern for his identity is supposed to be an intimidation tactic.
“Or,” the man continues, splaying one palm over Ren’s collarbones and pressing him flat against the chair’s back. With his other hand gripping the knife, he slashes down the front of Ren’s shirt, cutting open the fabric and the skin of his chest. Ren yelps. “I can make you talk.”
Panting, Ren looks down at the gash. Blood oozes from the wound, dripping down his sternum to his stomach. His insides churn at the sight.
“So, Nekozawa,” he says amicably, as if he isn’t threatening to torture him, “What will it be?”
Ren squeezes his eyes shut, taking a deep breath. The work he’s been doing for the past couple months is important. The criminal organization he’s been spying on is guilty of abhorrent crimes and needs to be brought to justice. He thinks of the victims, past, present, and future. He thinks of his fellow heroes, all of whom are undoubtedly braver than him. He thinks of Katsuki, the love of his life. Katsuki would never surrender.
Ren opens his eyes and shoots his interrogator a defiant grin. “I’m not talking. You can try and make me, but it won’t work.”
The man smiles, as if that’s the answer he wanted to hear. “We’ll see, Nekozawa. We’ll see.”
—
Four hours later, Ren cracks.
It’s the knife in his shoulder that finally does it. The man digs the blade past muscle, all the way to bone, and twists. Ren screams, tears flowing freely.
“Who do you work for, Ren?” the interrogator asks for the upteenth time, calm as ever.
“I, I told you, I work a—” Ren begins, but then the knife twists again, and he shrieks: “Ah, Deku! Deku!”
The blade stills.
“I work, I don’t, I don’t report to anybody,” Ren continues, unbearably ashamed of himself for the name drop. He held out for hours only to break now. “We sometimes work together. He’s not my boss or anything.”
“Not good enough, Nekozawa,” the man sighs, ripping the knife out of his shoulder. Ren yells, his expression contorted in anguish. Yanking the blade out hurt almost as much as the initial stab.
Groaning, he slumps in his chair. His entire body is covered in cuts, some shallow and some deep. His pale skin is coated in sticky blood, and he emptied his stomach a while ago. Drenched in sweat, exhausted and dehydrated, Ren is pushed past his limits. He never thought he would surrender even the tiniest bit of information, but here he is, giving in like a coward. Fresh tears leak from his eyes.
The man sheaths his blade and takes Ren’s chin in hand. “Does Deku know of your current operation?”
Ren exhales shakily and lies: “No.”
Deku is an incredibly powerful superhero. He went to school with Ren’s husband, Katsuki, and they were rivals for some time. Deku is too well known for undercover work and is much more suited for direct attacks. He’s taken out several outposts after Ren gave him names and locations. They’re not working together directly, but they both know of the danger said criminal organization poses.
The man’s nails dig into his cheeks. “I don’t believe you.” He digs the thumb of his free hand into a deep gash in his side, and Ren’s mouth falls open in a wordless scream, his eyes rolling back. “Who else is involved?”
Blood dribbles out of the corner of his mouth from his bit tongue. “M’not… telling.”
The interrogator releases his chin and wraps his broad hand around his throat, squeezing tightly. Ren’s eyes fly open, and he struggles to breathe.
“I’ve been very patient,” the man begins, “And I appreciate what you’ve told me so far, but, frankly, it’s nothing I didn’t already know. Maybe I need to be more persuasive.”
Ren shakes his head a fraction of an inch, gaping like a fish out of water. He isn’t sure how much he can endure. He needs a break before he says something stupid. Black spots dance across his vision, and his lungs burn. Time passes impossibly long, and wet, sputtering gasps escape his lips. Eventually, just when he thinks he’s gonna pass out, the man releases his neck. Ren coughs, gulping down air, his vision blinded by tears. He feels so weak and pathetic. What kind of hero allows themselves to be caught and tortured? He doesn’t know how he’ll live with himself after this. If there even is an after. He doesn’t see any chance of escape, and what if no one rescues him?
Ren clenches his fists and steadies his breathing. He can’t lose hope. Katsuki will come for him. If not Katsuki, someone else. He won’t be left here to die. He just needs to hold out and keep his mouth shut.
The man returns to his side with a syringe in hand. He cocks his head and looks down at him with a faux-sympathetic smile. “Hurts, doesn’t it? Here, I’ve got something that’ll help you take your mind off it—and hopefully loosen your tongue.”
“No, no,” Ren protests, squirming in his bonds. He tries to crane his neck away from the needle, but the man grabs his hair and holds him still. Ren whimpers as the drugs are injected into his system, falling limp almost instantly. Whatever the interrogator has given him works fast, and the room begins to swirl.
“Better, right?”The man pats his cheek, patronizing. “Now, about the data you collected. Mind sharing some names with me?”
Nausea washes over him in waves, and he squints against the lights. The cell is suddenly way too bright, and he moans. A fog settles over him, and he has a hard time remaining focused on his goal.
“What… what?” he mumbles.
The interrogator hums, frowning. “Might’ve given you too much there. It’s hard to determine the correct dose. I’m not used to administering to persons of such short stature.”
Ren isn’t listening, his attention shifting. He’s in so much pain. He just wants to be home with his husband, safe in bed, wrapped in his arms. What he wouldn’t give to see Katsuki’s face right now.
The room rocks, and the interrogator stumbles. At first, Ren thinks it’s the drugs screwing with his vision and playing tricks on him, but then it happens again.
“Explosions…?” the man whispers, brows furrowed in confusion.
Ren barks a laugh. Explosions! He’d recognize the sound anywhere. Katsuki is here!
He smiles at the interrogator, eyes bright. “You’re so fucked.”
#my writting#whump#defiant whumpee#superhero whump#oc whump#my hero academia#my hero academia oc#drugged#torture#pain#fear#blood#choking#hand in hair#beating#rope tied#tied to a chair#crying
80 notes
·
View notes
Text
Partake of Me
You and Vergil are out on a mission when an insatiable hunger rears its ugly head. You would ask the handsome devil beside you to lend a helping hand if it wasn't for one problem...you haven't told him that you're a vampire. Can you resist the allure of his blood? Or will you give into the temptation known as Vergil Sparda?
This is my first time writing for a request. I hope it’s everything you wanted, my dear vampire anon!
Prepare yourself for some blood and spice! 😘
The allure of the night sky never ceases to amaze you. A cluster of bright twinkling jewels swim in a vast sea of black while the harvest moon illuminates the surrounding buildings and roads with its ethereal glow. You remember the wandering walks in the middle of night during your youth, staring up at the stars in wonder as you imagine what it would be like to live another life besides your dreadfully boring one. Little did you know what twists and turns your life would take…for now you stalk the streets as a vampire, a true daughter of darkness, no longer living at all and in no way is your life boring anymore.
You have a deeper comprehension for all that goes bump in the night than most, embodying one of the many dangers that lurk in the shadows. Shortly after your introduction into vampirism, you travel around for a time and hone the skills your dark nature gifts you with…until one day you came upon an interesting opportunity in the paper. A shop called Devil May Cry is looking for mercenaries willing to do tough jobs that require supernatural and paranormal expertise. This piques your interest and you immediately call the number listed by the wanted ad. It has been a few months since then, and you quite enjoy the challenges that present themselves during this line of work. You especially enjoy the presence of a certain white-haired gentleman that frequently accompanies you on these jobs.
Vergil Sparda, the twin brother of the man who owns the shop, is no normal man. During your time with him you find him to be just as dangerous and deadly as you. It is being the kin of the demon known as the Legendary Dark Knight that gift him with powers you have witnessed for yourself multiple times. Well, that and his sword, the Yamato. You admire how calm and collected he is during battle, flashing and slicing through enemies with ease. It also does not hurt that he is easy on the eyes. His striking face and unwavering silver gaze never fails to trick you into believing you can breathe again…because the Son of Sparda is absolutely breathtaking.
Too bad he wouldn’t think the same of you if he found out what you truly are...
Your eyes roll at your sullen thought as you and Vergil make your way down a deserted alleyway. Both of you just spent the entire night investigating a lead for a mission in the older parts of this bustling neighborhood. When both of you fail to see the connection in the information you have gathered, Vergil suggests getting a couple of rooms at a nearby motel. That way both your minds may reassess the situation with a fresh perspective after proper rest. You gladly go along with this plan, longing to clean your guns and change your clothes. It also saves you from coming up with an excuse to find shelter from the dawn’s first light.
When you took the position at the shop you may have neglected to tell them about your vampiric nature. You have found through experience that one should always be careful with who you tell such a secret. And considering that the shop focuses on supernatural threats, you did not want to reveal what you really are in case they see your mere existence as a threat. It may be a bit presumptuous, but a healthy dose of paranoia always keeps you safe. You do not have the luxury of having someone watch your back in this solitary life.
But now you are regretting your decision to keep your vampirism a secret as the insatiable hunger for blood slowly builds up inside you. This is usually not a problem since you always bring plenty of blood packs with you during a mission, but when you check your travel bag they are nowhere to be seen. You forgot the one thing you need to survive, to keep you sane…and now you are paying for it as you summon all of your willpower to keep your hunger under control.
The handsome devil walking beside you does not help your endeavor as your mind obsesses over what his blood would smell and taste like. Your eyes wander over and steal glances at his collar, longing to tear it away from his neck and sample what the Dark Slayer has to offer. Vergil catches you a couple of times, making you turn your head away as you pretend to be surveying your surroundings with high alertness. Your insidious paranoia almost convinces you that he knows your secret.
He sees you for what you really are: a blight on the world that needs to be destroyed…
You shake your head, casting out all your fearful notions from your mind as you finally arrive at the quaint motel. Vergil scans your face with a critical eye, his silent way of asking you if everything is alright. You smile at his concern and nod your head. Being a vampire comes with its fair share of hang ups; such as always being paranoid no matter how safe you are…or the habit of obsessing over something you desire, driving yourself mad until you have it in your possession. You have the misfortune of currently suffering from both afflictions, craving the well-mannered devil holding the entryway door open for you while also afraid of him using the Yamato against you.
Your body shudders as the image of your fictional final death runs through your mind. The poor front desk clerk regards you warily as you ask for a room, completely forgetting that you usually ask for two rooms when you stop for the night at places like this motel. Vergil raises an eyebrow at this, but does not correct you as he peers down at you with those keen eyes. You avoid meeting his gaze and drum your fingers on the desk testily as the clerk puts you down for a room while going on about the amenities of the motel. As soon as the room key is in your hand you dash down the hall, doing your best to keep a normal pace as you walk straight to the door of your rented room.
As you raise the key to unlock the door your sharp sense of awareness detects the sudden presence of Vergil close behind you. “Y/N,” he addresses to get your attention. You look over your shoulder and lock onto his intense gaze, doing your best to ignore the overwhelming body heat emanating from him. “Are you well?” he questions, a bit of worry laced in his tone. “You seem…distraught.”
“What?” you mutter as your hand fumbles with the lock, distracted by the steady cadence of his heart beat close to your ear. “No, I’m fine. Just tired and frustrated. I just need some rest, that’s all.”
Vergil studies you closely. You know that your answer is weak, but it is taking all of your willpower to not latch your fangs into the irresistible neck currently over your shoulder. His eyes dart over to the key clinking against the handle as your trembling hand attempts to unlock it. He swiftly leans over and places his hand over yours, causing a series of shivers to cascade though your body from his warm touch. And his scent…like fresh snow first thing in the morning after a winter storm. It overtakes your senses as it begins unravel the last strand of control inside you. He gently guides the key to its proper place, slides it into the keyhole, and turns it for you.
“After you,” he murmurs in your ear. It takes you a moment to collect yourself, steeling your resolve against the temptation known as Vergil Sparda.
“Thanks,” you mumble as you bow your head and turn the handle of the door.
It almost pains you to step away from him as you enter the room. Your body is physically twitching as you examine the plain walls and furniture, taking note of the one lone bed in the middle of the room. Vergil closes and locks the door behind you before sweeping the entire room in his usual search for hidden threats or traps. You do not even bate eye at this as you set your travel bag down on a nearby table. If you had rented a second room you would be doing the exact same thing, except your search is for holes or crevices that may let sunlight in and promptly covering them up. When the room passes his inspection, Vergil heads over to the windows and starts to draw the curtains closed. Seeing the moonlight drift through the glass and illuminate his gorgeous profile stirs the ever-growing desire for him inside you. The calm beat of his heart, the feel of his radiating body heat, his amazingly intoxicating scent…
Your hunger demands to be sated…NOW.
You clamp down hard on whatever remaining power you have left to keep yourself from doing anything foolish, like jumping Vergil and taking what you want. That insatiable need clawing at the back of brain can only mean one thing…you are very close to entering a frenzy. Not good, not good. If you were to feed on anyone now you would most likely drain them of all their blood. You’ve really fucked up now. So, even if you put aside your fears and ask Vergil for some of his blood, you could not vouch for his safety. The very thought of causing fatal harm to him…
No. I cannot risk it.
Vergil’s imposing back is still facing you as he closes the last curtain, so you know he has not noticed your frantic state yet. I must not let him see me like this. Your mind hastily formulates a plan to put some distance between the two of you as fast as possible. You take your phone out of your travel bag as you conjure up a smooth lie. “I’m going to go outside and see if there’s better signal.” You walk over to the door and reach for the handle. “I’ll, uh…be right back.”
“Going out for a drink?”
Your hand pauses just inches away from the door as the room echoes with his confrontational inquiry. You glance sideways at the cocksure devil standing across the room. “W-what are you…talking about?”
Vergil turns around and faces you with a challenging glare. “I am no fool, Y/N…I know what you are.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Vergil.” You turn away from him, whispering paranoia rattling your brain as you struggle to keep yourself together long enough to just get out of the room. “Now, if you’ll excuse me-”
The distinct sound of the Yamato slices through the air. The hunger inside you turns into panic. This is it…this is how you meet your final death: at the hands of the man you adore deeply, despite being eternally damned. How fucking cliché can you get? you thought, knowing that in your weak state you stand no chance against him. You prepare yourself for the inevitable spiel of needing to cut you down and the biggest fight of your undead life.
A delectable scent wafts under your nose. Your supernatural senses become hyperaware as it focuses in the indistinguishable smell of strong, thick…blood. This blood triggers a memory…sitting with friends around a campfire in the dead of winter, laughing and sipping spiced wine. The hunger comes back in full force as your head swivels around unnaturally fast towards the source. Vergil’s left hand is gloveless. A deep gash has been cut into his palm as he holds it out, his blood welling up into a small pool. Just the sight it has you baring your fangs as you behold the tempting devil currently smirking at you.
“It seems I’ve injured myself,” he observes nonchalantly. The sight of his smug face angers you, but it also gives you a moment to reign in the hectic storm swirling in your head as you fight the urge to pounce him. You want to tear your eyes away from his redolent nectar, but they stay glued to his hand. There is no doubt that Vergil sees the feral glow of your eyes gleaming in the darkness of the room.
“Don’t…” you weakly plea as your body begins to tremble. “I can’t…”
“Would you be a dear and take care of it for me?” he taunts as his bloody hand tips ever so slightly. Your predatory eyes follow the lovely trail as it drips down, building and collecting at the edge of his hand before a single drop forms and begins to fall…
Instantly, your primal instincts kick in. Your phone drops from your hand as you lunge at Vergil faster than a bullet from one of your guns. He grunts as the force of your abnormally quick approach takes him off guard, sending him straight to the floor. You straddle his waist and grab his wrist, bringing it close to your face as you inhale its sweet fragrance. You sigh in ecstasy, slowly slipping into a hazy stupor as your body shivers in excitement.
“You’re a lot stronger than I anticipated.”
Vergil’s voice breaks you out of your hungry daze as you stare down at him. His fierce eyes meet your own predatory gaze as he props himself up with his free arm. He is oddly calm for a man who was just knocked to the ground by a bloodthirsty vampire. Your eyes widen in horror as you realize what you have just done and immediately let go of his wrist. Before you can even think about retreating, Vergil wraps his arms around in a vice grip, effectively trapping you against his body. You struggle against him a bit, trying to break free, but it is in vain as you used what last bit of strength you had getting within this devil’s grasp.
“Is the blood of the Son of Sparda not good enough for you?” he sneers by your ear, his grip tightening around you as your body continues to fight against him.
“No!” you wail. “Your blood smells…so good,” you admit as you deeply inhale the succulent scent.
Vergil withdraws from your ear and presses his forehead against yours, forcing you to stare up into his inquisitive gaze. “Then what is stopping you from partaking of me?”
You swallow down your fears, mustering up the courage to speak truthfully. “I’m…really low on blood and…really close to giving in…to a frenzy. I don’t want…to lose control and...” You trail off as the thought of hurting him makes your body shake uncontrollably.
“I am well aware just how hungry you are,” he affirms softly, the gentle tone of his voice taking you by surprise even in your crazed state. “Which is why I am offering my blood to you.” He lifts his bloody hand near your face. Your eyes shoot back to it instantly as you start to pant frantically. Vergil places his lips next to your ear again as he continues to encourage you. “It is too close to dawn and I very much like to keep my partner from becoming ash.”
“Vergil,” you whine as you look away from his hand, opting to stare at the ceiling instead of burying your face into the crook of his enticing neck. “I-I wouldn’t forgive myself…if I hurt you.”
“You will not hurt me.”
You shake head. “No, I can’t-”
Suddenly, your view flips as Vergil swings you around and anchors you down to the floor with his unbloodied hand by the neck. He traps your legs in between his muscular thighs as he stares down at you. “Stop being stubborn and take my blood,” he commands impatiently.
You vigorously shake your head again as your body wriggles underneath his weight, refusing to give in to his demand for his own safety. “I would rather burn to cinders in the sun than give myself the chance of harming you in any way,” you swear with total conviction as you feebly attempt to escape from his immovable hold one last time. Try as you might you cannot make him budge as the last of your strength wanes. You see his familiar scowl before closing your eyes, summoning every last ounce of control you have to restrain yourself from giving into his tempting offer.
You feel him lean away as a low rumbling growl fills the air around you. A few moments pass before you feel his hand cup your face, smearing warm blood onto your skin. You press your lips into a thin line as you desperately try to keep yourself together beneath your wicked captor. His thumb tenderly strokes your cheek as his other hand loosens and slides to the back of your neck. All is quiet and calm. You convince yourself that Vergil has finally decided to end your suffering. But then, he quickly raises your head and you feel something press hard against your mouth…
His lips. Your eyes snap open as you gasp in shock. This proves to be your undoing though, as you suddenly taste liquid life pour into your open mouth. As soon as his blood touches your tongue the most gratifying moan escapes your throat. Your tongue starts to explore his mouth its own accord, searching for every last drop as your hands grip his perfectly slicked back hair. He lifts you up off the floor and moves your legs to straddle him as you sit on his lap, all while never breaking away from your ravenous kiss.
You purr in pleasure at this new arrangement as you begin to grind against him, lost in the taste of his demonically blessed blood. And Vergil does not just sit there and let you kiss the him into oblivion. You feel his hands roam over your arched back, your bent legs, and pert bottom as his hips meet yours with his own grinding thrusts. His tongue continuously challenges you for dominance, sometimes relenting to your ravishing tongue, and other times viciously pushing his way into your mouth to do some exploring of his own. Both of your growls mingle together to form a primal serenade, utterly intoxicated by its beat as your bodies sway against each other.
Vergil’s hybrid blood is very complex. Every time you think you got the flavor down another just bubbles up, demanding to be completely savored. The taste is reminiscent of the memory it evokes, dark fruity wine blending harmoniously with spicy cloves and sweet honey. You can even taste the smokiness, along with the surprising note of something floral…violets. His blood makes you feel exquisite as you relish every last sinful drop.
Eventually, all the blood in his mouth is devoured and your instincts scream for more. You tear away from his mouth, gasping from the intensity of his bloody kiss as you let your head fall back in pure bliss. Vergil’s arms wrap around you tightly, making sure you do not try to run away from him again. You see his velvety lips curve into a smug grin as he chuckles, extremely pleased that his diabolical plan has motivated you to give into him. A part of you wants to berate him for his deviously seductive ploy, but you can no longer resist the allure of his devilish blood while it courses through you.
Your hands relinquish their grasp on his hair as they glide down his neck and rest on the zipper of his vest. Vergil takes this as a promising sign. He removes his coat along with his other glove. You slowly pull the zipper as far as it will go without unbuttoning the outer lay of his vest. Your sharp eyes hone in on a pulsating vein underneath the smooth skin of his neck as you peel away the collar. It calls to you…beckons you to come closer…your face rushes in and nuzzles the crook of his neck, fangs scraping along that glorious vein but not baring down just yet.
You always get a thrill out of this moment, enjoying the feel of a warm trembling body in your arms as their heart beats faster in fear and anticipation. But this is different. This was no ordinary person you have in your embrace. This is Vergil Sparda, the devil who dares to stir the hungry lust of a vampire. His body does not tremble…it thrums with power as you feel his guttural growl through his throat. And his heart beats in anticipation, but you can tell there is no fear exuding from him…his very presence is thick with desire and arousal.
Vergil presses his lips against your ear as his hands rub your back. “Drink of me,” he whispers sinfully. “Take me inside you and get strong, my Evening Star.”
His wicked words are all the encouragement you need to stop denying yourself and finally give in. You hiss softly as you sink your fangs into his neck, moaning as his blood gushes into your mouth. Vergil grunts at your bite, hips thrusting up into you as he holds you close. Your arms wrap around his shoulders as you begin to suck his blood, letting yourself get carried away by the rapturous waves of lustful satiation. You meet every thrust of his hips, grinding in time with every draw of his red nectar. The feel of his prominent erection through his pants as it slides over your aroused core adds a teasing tingle to the mind-blowing sensation of blood streaming through your body.
You lose track of time as you take your fill of Vergil's blood. By now, you would be sucking on dry and dead artery if he was a normal human being. But his heart beat has not even slowed…on the contrary, it seems to have slightly increased in speed since you started feeding. His heavy and labored breathing puffs by your ear as his hands explore every inch of your body again, slowly memorizing the plains and slopes of your deadly form. You moan loudly against his neck as his sensual touch brushes over your inner thighs and the curve of your breasts. There was no doubt in your mind…this is going to end with you writhing in pleasure around him as you take another part of him inside you.
You feel his warm calloused hand grip your hair and pull you away from your luscious feast. You snarl in displeasure at the interruption, but Vergil’s demanding lips stifles your angry protest. Your mouth instantly opens up to him, letting him taste his own blood as your sneaky hands flash across his chest and remove his vest in a matter of seconds. He purrs lowly in gratitude as he wraps your legs around his waist and swiftly stands up off the floor. You clutch onto his shoulders as he grabs your ass with both hands and squeezes you closer to him as he walks over to bed.
Vergil kneels and sits you down on the edge of the bed. His lips leave your mouth as he begins tearing your clothes off, kissing and licking every bit of skin he reveals. You groan as he lavishes your breasts with his demanding tongue, flicking and teasing your nipples. He glances up at you as he takes one breast into his mouth, nibbling and sucking it firmly. The feel of his teeth gently grazing against your sensitive skin has you gasping and sifting your hands through his hair, bringing his head closer to your chest as he gives your other breast the same treatment.
You cannot take his teasing anymore and snap into action. A feral growl leaves your lips as you use blood to boost your speed and strength. You tug Vergil away from your breast and pull him on top of the bed, hurriedly ridding him of his pants, boots, and underwear. He blinks curiously up at the ceiling as you hastily rip the rest of your clothes off your body just as fast, eager to ride the very hard cock currently on display for your eyes. Before you can mount him, a blur of blue pops up behind you. One moment you are standing by the bed, the next you are slammed on top of the covers.
It is your turn to blink curiously up at the ceiling as Vergil chuckles beside you. “Nice try,” he quips, shifting his body over yours as he peers down at you with a grin on his face. His hand brushes your cheek in wonder. Soft fingertips swipe the blood still smeared on your face and brushes it on your mouth, coating your lips in his unique shade of red. Your tongue peeks out and greedily licks your lips, not wanting to waste a single drop.
Your eyes dart over to your bite mark on his neck as blood trickles from it. The beautiful red streaks on his chest make your fangs elongate at the sight. A couple of drops drip down and land on your chest. This does not escape Vergil’s notice as he moves his fingers away from your mouth and swipes some of his dark nectar off your skin and offers it to you. His cock twitches between your thighs, making you whimper as your legs spread wider, inviting him closer as you suck his fingers clean.
Vergil growls as he moves closer over you. He nestles himself between your thighs and his hips begin to grind against you ever so slightly, teasing you with his cock as it slides back and forth over your slick entrance. You cry out in frustration around his fingers as your arms and legs pull him even closer to you, silently begging him to end this sweet torture. He chuckles softly as he removes his fingers from your mouth and takes your chin, pulling you up to meet his lips in a searing kiss. Your arms encircle his neck as his tongue pokes and prods the cavern of your mouth before breaking away and resting his forehead on top of your head.
“How do I taste?” he asks while staring deeply into your eyes.
You bite your lower lip in thought, unaware of your sharp fang pricking your tender skin. “Like warm mulled wine on a cold winter morning.”
“Mmmmm.” He nuzzles his face closer until his lips are a breath away from your mouth. “How strange. The way you describe the flavor…I wonder…” His tongue pokes out and swipes at your bottom lip, lapping at the fang currently puncturing it. You gasp in surprise, releasing your lip and giving his naughty mouth an opening. He captures your lower lip with his teeth and softly nibbles as his tongue continues to lick and taste a small sample of your blood.
You sob as your dripping core aches with need, rocking desperately against his hard length in an effort to relieve the tortuous tension. “Vergil…please…” you whimper softly as you push against his body in vain. He must be compensating for your strength because now you can barely move beneath his weight.
Vergil releases your lip and buries his face close to your ear. “I can feel your sex quivering,” he marvels as he pumps his hips, easing some of the tension between your legs as the deep tone of his voice sends chills down your spine. “Does the thought of me partaking of you make it ache for my cock?”
Your body practically buzzes with exhilaration at his intimate suggestion. “Oh fuck…” you mumble as your head turns to the side, already baring your neck for him.
Vergil chortles in amusement. “I admire your enthusiasm, my dear, but I need to hear it from your lips.”
You groan in annoyance as you glare at him. His silver eyes lock you into an intense gaze, waiting patiently for you to give the word. If you could still blush your cheeks would be as red as the blood staining your lips. You lean your face in and softly press a delicate kiss against his pouty lips. Never in your wildest dreams did you ever think you would end up in your current position, underneath one of the most powerful and handsome men you have ever met, naked and wanting. Yet here you are…about to utter some of the most erotic words you have ever spoken as you stare longingly into his eyes.
“Drink of me. Take me inside your body as you become one with me, Vergil.”
The pupils of his silver eyes dilate dramatically as your sensual request flows from your lips. A long rumbling growl emanates from Vergil’s throat as his mouth slides down your neck, causing darts of pleasure to shoot straight down your core. You thread your fingers through his white hair as his lips pause over the crook of your neck and give a tentative nip. You bite down on your lip hard, holding back a pleading whimper as he positions the head of his cock at your entrance.
Vergil bites down hard on your neck just as he slams his hips forward, burying himself deep inside you. A satisfying yelp of pain escapes your mouth as you cradle his head close to your neck, your wet heat twitching delightfully around his generous length as he begins to steadily thrust in earnest. Vergil hums indulgently as he licks and sucks your neck, seemingly enjoying his own luscious feast. Your head falls back as a series of euphoric moans spills from your lips, the delicious feeling of his lips, tongue, and teeth along with the long strokes of his cock bringing you to rapid orgasm.
Vergil’s ardent pace never slows as he rides through your blissful orgasm, grunting against your neck as one hand slips under the small of your back and guides your hips into his thrusts to prolong your pleasure. Your legs squeeze firmly around his waist and your hands clench his hair tightly in an attempt to anchor yourself while the rapturous ripples run through you. All your fears about being shunned by the extraordinary man currently above you melt away as he continues to pound into you mercilessly. You never thought you could feel so full, so warm, so…alive.
When you finally start to come down from your fervid climax, Vergil moves his other arm around your shoulders and scoops you up to sit astride his lap, hips never slowing their zealous drive as his relentless mouth nips and licks his bruising mark on your neck. The feel of your own blood trickling down your back and chest sparks your insatiable need for his blood once more as you begin to follow his lead, bouncing up and down in his lap as you eye your own bite mark close to your face. You strike out with your fangs during the up stroke of his thrusts, clamping down hard and drawing out more of his flavorful nectar. He growls fiercely as his hips pause for a moment, cock twitching slightly inside you when your fangs bare down on him.
Vergil’s teeth finally release their hard grip as he trails crimson kisses up your neck until he reaches your ear. “You taste like pomegranate cider on a warm autumn night.” The deep sensuous timber of his voice describing the taste of your blood evokes a whimpering moan from you as he goes on titillating you with his seductive words. “So rich…” His hands start caressing you, smearing your blood across your back. “So sweet…” One of his hands glide around to your chest, forming red lines as he fondles your breasts. “You are temptation made flesh and I cannot resist you.” His hand dips lower towards your abdomen, teasing you with his touch just above where you are joined with him.
"I want to consume all of you.”
A cry of passion escapes your lips as you feel deft fingers circle your delicate nub in a steady rhythm. You throw back your head and moan at the sight that greets you. Vergil’s mouth is completely covered in your blood, desirous eyes staring at you as he moves against you with renewed vigor. He grunts harshly as he pulls you into a heady kiss, tongues sweeping and tasting each other. Your hands leave his hair to do their fair share of painting, stroking and spreading his blood all across his chest as you feel your pleasure coming to a head again. It climbs higher, higher, and higher still…until you feel the distinct pulse deep within you clench down hard, causing you to break away from his mouth as you completely shatter in his embrace. It takes a few more hard and deep brushing thrusts before Vergil joins you, roaring and grunting as he releases his hot seed inside you.
Moments pass as you slowly drift back down from your pleasurable peak, panting and sighing in satisfaction. Vergil hums his own long rumbling purr of contentment as his hips gradually come to a stop. He cradles your shivering body against his chest, rubbing your back gently as the last remnants of your mind-blowing orgasm dies down. All is quiet and calm again, except this time you are not dreading your final death. Instead, you are positively glowing as your frenzy finally recedes from your mind, letting you think with clarity once more. You feel a tiny pang of guilt as you notice the really big bite mark on his neck. He did not show pain when you feed, but you still feel bad for being rough...so you decide to heal it. You carefully lick the mark clean, nuzzling the tender skin as the wounds fully close.
Vergil loosens his hold to appraise your appearance. He hums as his lips, still coated in your blood, curl up into a smug grin. “You’re looking quite sated now, my Evening Star.”
Your earlier agitation at him comes back with a vengeance. With great celerity you reach out for a nearby pillow without leaving his lap and give him a decisive smack aside his head with it. “That's for playing dirty,” you snarl as you show no mercy with the pillow. “You cocky,” whap! “Insufferable…!” whap!
He somehow manages to catch your speedy hand before it lands another hit. “I wouldn’t have had to provoke if you weren’t being such an obstinate woman,” he barks back as he rips the pillow from your grasp. You grumble irritably as he slams his lips against your clamped mouth, coaxing you with his tongue for entry as he lays you back down on the bed. He traps you under his muscular body once more as you resist him, giggling when you cannot deny him anymore and returning his kiss with playfully fervor.
“And,” he starts as he breaks away from your lips. “I don’t ever recall you complaining as you sat in my lap,” he notes as he gives your cheek a peck. “…having a feast that only one such as I can provide.” Another kiss lands close to his bite mark.
You roll your eyes, but do not argue since he is technically right. Damnable devil, you thought, lightly laughing as you survey the mess you have both made of the cheap motel bed. Blood stains are splattered all across the plain white sheets, but at least the bedframe is still intact. The air is heavy with the scent of blood as well. You inhale deeply, taking in that sweet fragrance before letting out a blissful sigh. Your skin starts to feel sticky as the blood you both painted on each other starts to congeal. Raising your head up to his chest, you playfully lick his nipple, catching some of his blood on your tongue.
Vergil grunts and shoots you an irritated glare. You smile innocently as your tongue takes another swipe, humming at the familiar taste. He lets out an indignant huff. Then he smirks and shakes his head fondly. “As much as I find the idea of you licking me clean intriguing…I believe a shower is in order.”
And with that he disengages from your warmth and carries you to the small adjacent bathroom. As you wait for the shower water to warm up you marvel at the lovely pattern his teeth marks made on your neck in the small mirror above the sink. He comes up from behind and wraps his arms around you, asking you how long it will take to heal. You explain that you could use some vitae to completely close the wounds in seconds, but you want keep it for as long as possible. He smiles at your words, kissing your temple before leading you into the hot shower.
While you both wash each you ask how he knew about your vampirism. He admits that it did not take him long to catch on, noticing details such as you not eating meals, your very pale complexion, and the very obvious fact that you refuse to work during the day. You wonder aloud why he did not confront you about it sooner. He just shrugs, saying it was not his concern so long as you continue to be a reliable partner. This makes your heart soar as you thank him for not judging you by your dark nature. He smiles softly as he turns off the water and pushes aside the flimsy shower curtain, helping you step out with a steady hand. Vergil grabs a towel and begins to dry you off. He tells you that he only judges someone by their actions. He also confesses that he believes you to be capable woman with a brilliant mind and a deadly aim with both guns and pillows. You giggle and let him know that his compliments would assuredly turn your cheeks pink if you were mortal.
When he is done drying you, he throws that towel back on the rack and grabs a fresh towel for himself. As he dries his hair you let him know that you are going to see what you can do about the poor bed. He wishes you luck as you head out of the bathroom in search of spare bedsheets. You find some in a tiny closet and set them aside as you get started on pulling off the bloody sheets off. Vergil soon steps out of the bathroom, his usual slicked back hair now down over his eyes, and he helps you not make a bigger mess as you deposit the soiled sheets onto the floor. Luckily, no blood made it onto the mattress, so you spread out a fresh sheet and blanket. You climb into bed and pat the spot beside you eagerly.
Vergil quirks an eyebrow as he slides in beside you. “You know,” he began as he pulls you close, “your unforeseen decision to rent only one room convinced me that you were finally going to reveal yourself to me.”
“Ugh,” you grumble when you remember your amateur blunder and begin explaining yourself. “I forgot to bring my blood packs, and by the time I realized my stupid mistake I was so close to snapping and…” You sigh as you look away in shame. “And I didn’t want to bother you with the burdens of my curse because I wasn’t sure if…I couldn’t-”
You feel warm fingertips take your chin and gently turn your head back to meet Vergil’s sympathetic gaze. “My demon heritage has many advantages,” he states as he cups your cheek and guides your face towards his wonderful neck. “…such as letting my vampire partner gorge herself without worry.” You nuzzle his neck before pricking his skin with your fangs, being careful not to make another mess as you gently suck his blood. He sighs in content as he pets your hair. For the first time in a very long time you feel comfortable, protected…safe.
“Partake of me always,” Vergil whispers close to your ear. “You don’t need blood packs for as long as we're together.” With one firm swipe of your tongue you close the modest bite mark before looking up at Vergil in surprise. His lips press an affectionate kiss on your forehead. “We must keep your fire burning strong, my Evening Star.”
“Why do you call me that?” you inquire as he grabs the blanket and snugly tucks both of you under it.
“It’s a reference from one of Poe’s works.”
“Poe? As in Edgar Allan Poe?” you question curiously. “Huh…how fitting that a dead dour man reminds you of me.”
“He wasn’t always full of gloom. Poe was quite the romantic as well.”
“Hmm.” Your eyes begin to droop you lay your head on his chest. “What about the…poem?” You feel him nod slightly to affirm your guess. “Is it romantic?”
“In a manner of speaking.” Vergil rests his chin atop your head. “Shall I recite it for you?”
“I would like that,” you say quietly, trying hard not to drift off as his lyrical voice paints a beautiful image:
'Twas noontide of summer,
And mid-time of night;
And stars, in their orbits,
Shone pale, thro' the light
Of the brighter, cold moon,
'Mid planets her slaves,
Herself in the Heavens,
Her beam on the waves.
I gazed awhile
On her cold smile;
Too cold- too cold for me-
There pass'd, as a shroud,
A fleecy cloud,
And I turned away to thee,
Proud Evening Star,
In thy glory afar,
And dearer thy beam shall be;
For joy to my heart
Is the proud part
Thou bearest in Heaven at night,
And more I admire
Thy distant fire,
Than that colder, lowly light.
“Mmm,” you mumble, slowly falling, falling… “Being your Evening Star sounds…lovely…” and finally, you let go and slowly slip into a state of repose.
You always thought you were more like the moon up in the dark sky, cold and alone as you shine in the night. But as you lay in Vergil’s arms, hearing the lull of his strong heart beat and the comforting warmth of his skin, you no longer feel cold and lonely. For once in your undying life you feel…cherished.
Perhaps you are not like the moon. With Vergil by your side, you feel more like the twinkling stars: proud, glorious, and never alone as they eternally burn together.
Read on my Ao3
My Master List if you want more.
Read the follow up here. ❤
Tagging: @drusoona, @thedyingmoon, @clevermentalitybeliever, @yepps
#vergil#vergil x reader#devil may cry#dmc 5#vampire prompt#request#vampire spice#vampire reader#blood#vampire bites#partake of me#who wouldn't want to bite his neck?#and ho boy he's into it#harlor writes
299 notes
·
View notes
Note
Oh could you do some Tim and Damian bonding with number 10 or just the batbros in general
Here you go! Sorry it took so long and thanks for the prompt! I had a lot of fun writing this, Tim and Damian are just Peak siblings constantly bitching at each other and I love it, lmaoo.
Tim was having a strange dream. It looked like he was in a video game, making his way through a castle that looked like a Super Mario level, only he was fighting an army of ninjas. Bruce and the others were waiting at the end of the stage, he knew instinctively, trapped inside a giant man-eating plant. He had to get to them fast, or the plant would digest them and it would be game over.
Then there was an earthquake. Tim cursed under his breath and struggled to keep his balance as he danced away from his opponents, but the shaking only got worse. Above him, the ceiling begun to crumble.
“Drake!”
Tim recognized the voice immediately. Damian. He sounded distressed – but something wasn’t quite right. Damian was trapped inside the plant with the others. Had he gotten out on his own?
“Goddamnit, Drake, wake up!”
Tim spun around, trying to pinpoint where Damian’s voice was coming from, but the ground collapsed below him as soon as he did and he was falling, falling. Tim closed his eyes and waited for the crash – instead, he became aware of some soft material below him, impossibly comfortable. Damian’s voice was ringing louder than ever, now having switched to Arabic to mutter his disapproval of…what? Tim’s general existence, maybe.
Tim rolled onto his back with a yawn and blinked up at Damian, who scowled at him and yanked his blankets away. He did so one-armed. In his other hand, Damian was cradling something small that Tim couldn’t see properly. Squinting a little, Tim sat up.
“What d'you want?” Tim asked, voice groggy with sleep.
Stay in the manor for the weekend, Tim, Bruce had said. I’ll make that chicken pot pie you like, Master Tim, Alfred had said. And because Tim was an idiot who deserved his fate, he had agreed. He had not signed up for being cruelly woken up by his pest of a little brother, thank you very much.
Damian deposited the thing – a small ball of spikes – on Tim’s lap, expression guarded. He shuffled his feet in a way that was uncharacteristic of him, almost skittish.
“I found this hedgehog on the grounds,” Damian said with great dignity. “I believe he is ill.”
Tim was prone to agree. The hedgehog was restless, scratching and licking itself, with its spikes sparser than Tim thought they ought to be, its skin dry underneath. There was something about being handed a creature so small and defenseless that made his chest hum with anxiety. He rested a tentative hand on top of the hog’s back, careful not to spook it.
He glanced at Damian, trying not to look as panicked as he felt. “Can’t you take him to Alfred, or –”
“We’re the only ones home,” Damian cut him off. His tone was curt, impatient, but he wasn’t going out of his way to insult Tim as he usually would. Tim detected a hint of concern. “And – as much as I’m loathe to admit it – I don’t know what to do.”
Tim’s eyes flickered to the hedgehog again, equal parts captivated and terrified. It was so small. Was it a baby hedgehog? Or was this their regular size? Spikes or no, Tim was gripped by the fear that he might crush it without meaning to.
“Alright. Here’s the plan,” he declared, ignoring the part of him that wanted to freak out and denounce all responsibility. “You’re going to do a google search and find out what we can feed this little guy, meanwhile I’m going to call a vet and try to set up an appointment. All good?”
“Very well,” Damian agreed, more easily than Tim had expected. “But the appointment must be for today. I will not risk his health.”
Tim bit back a sarcastic retort and tried to smile instead. “It will be for as soon as I can arrange one, Dames.”
Damian nodded tersely and grabbed Tim’s laptop from his bedside cabinet, plopping down on the bed and typing away at lightning speed. Tim wondered if it was worth protesting that Damian use his own laptop or phone instead, but he shook his head and let it go. Tim lifted his pillow and gave his blankets a shake in search for his phone. It fell out and tumbled to the floor.
It took a few tries to find a clinic that was both open at this time – 7 AM, Damian, what were you even doing outside so early? Tim had only just gone to sleep two hours ago and Damian was already up – and willing to accommodate them on such short notice. Luckily, the name Wayne literally opened doors, and Damian got his wish. They had an appointment for 10 AM. Tim wasn’t expecting so much as a thank you.
When Tim returned to his room, Damian was curled up in bed with the little hedgehog in his hand, feeding him little bites of Titus’ food with great care. Tim stopped at the threshold, mouth quirking up at the corners. It was so rare to see Damian unguarded like this that Tim wished for a moment that he had his camera on hand. He snapped a quick picture with his phone instead and then coughed unsubtly to alert Damian to his presence.
Damian sat up straighter at once. “I have found that we may give the hedgehog cat or dog food as long as it is not fish-based,” he informed Tim. “We may not give him milk.”
“Good job,” Tim said. “We’re going to the vet in a couple of hours. Think you can watch him until then?”
“Of course,” Damian said instantly. “Fetch me a baby bottle filled with warm water.”
Tim’s eyebrows twitched. “Please.”
Damian shot him a puzzled, irritated look. “What?”
“I’m helping you, Damian,” Tim said, as evenly as he could, “but that doesn’t mean you get to order me around. You could say please. Or at least make it a request, not a command.”
“Can you fetch me a baby bottle filled with warm water?” Damian rephrased, this time making it sound like he was doubting Tim’s ability to complete even that simple task.
“You’re lucky your little pinecone is cute,” Tim ground out.
He fetched Damian the damn baby bottle.
“Okay, so they’re doing us a favor seeing us so soon,” Tim reminded Damian as he parked the car outside the clinic. “So let’s not, uh, throw knifes at them, or threaten to eviscerate them if the results are not what you want to hear. Okay? Try it out. Pretend I’m the vet.”
Damian scoffed, but quickly smoothed his expression into something innocent and childlike, eyes wide and pleading. “Doctor, can you heal my pet? And by ‘can’, I mean do it or I’ll murder the town.” He gave Tim a bitter look. “Is that what you expect me to say, Drake? I do know how to behave like a normal human when the occasion calls for it.”
“Of course you – I didn’t mean –” Tim sighed and rubbed his temples. “You’re right. I’m just tired. Being an asshole. Sorry.”
Damian looked taken aback. “Yes. Well. Let us not dwell on it.”
Damian clutched the hedgehog protectively as they walked into the clinic and settled in to wait at the reception room. Tim busied himself with scrolling through news apps on his phone. It was a habit. He had priority alerts for certain terms, of course, Batman and WE and so forth, but it was important to stay informed on a larger scale too.
After a twenty minute wait, give or take, they were called to the examination room. Tim was quietly relieved that it didn’t take longer, because Damian had been growing restless. The hedgehog was asleep in his palm, curled into its side, and Damian was watching it so intently that you would have thought the poor thing would die if he took his eyes off it.
The vet greeted them with a smile and introduced herself as Dr Gleason. She took the hedgehog from Damian – who was reluctant to hand it over – and woke it up gently. She much have sensed Damian’s anxiety, because she took the time to explain each step of the procedure to him as she went about the exam. Tim stood to the side, a little awkwardly, but also marveling at how fixated Damian looked.
“Looks like this little buddy has mites,” she said. “It’s nothing serious, but if you have others pets I would suggest keeping him quarantined. How long have you had him?”
“I just found him today,” Damian said, and then, defensively, “They’re legal to have as pets in New Jersey. I checked.”
Dr Gleason nodded. “Well, he’s gonna need a cage, a hide box, an exercise wheel…you have to keep those all clean to prevent mites in the future, as well as any other toys or items you give him. Okay?”
“I will take good care of him,” Damian declared coolly.
Dr. Gleason prescribed an antiparasitic, instructing them to keep an eye on the hedgehog for a few days to make sure it was working properly. When they were about to leave, she held Tim for a moment longer.
“Is your brother serious about keeping him?” she asked.
“Yeah, pretty sure,” Tim said with a shrug. “He has a…thing. About animals. This would be his fourth pet now.”
Dr Gleason inclined her head. “That’s good, but you should know that hedgehogs have a relatively short lifespan. 3-6 years is the most common. Tell your dad too. Before you make that decision, you should all know what you’re getting into – that kind of loss can be devastating to a kid.”
Tim could testify to the fact that Damian had experienced his fair share of devastating things already, but there was no arguing that he’d be distraught if any of his pets were to die. He’d have to find a way to bring it up subtly, or better yet, pass along the information to Dick and have him handle it.
He smiled and nodded. “Will do, ma'am.”
Damian was waiting for him impatiently, frustrated at being left out. He grew even more so when he demanded to know what Dr Gleason had wanted to talk about and Tim gave him a generic response, but Tim didn’t budge. He’d done his brotherly duty for today – he would not be the one to have the conversation about the mortality of pets, at least not right now.
They got into the car and drove in silence for a few minutes, Damian’s anger dissipating as his focus returned to his newest acquisition. Distantly, Tim wondered if they should have asked Bruce before adding another member to Damian’s growing menagerie. He probably wouldn’t mind, would he? The little creature didn’t take up any space, so small that it could easily fit in Damian’s palm.
“I’m going to call him Drake,” Damian announced.
Tim almost crashed into a street sign, earning scornful honks from the drivers behind him.
“Damian, you can’t tell me something like that when I’m driving and operating on two hours of sleep,” he protested numbly. He’d heard Damian’s words just fine, but his mind refused to process them.
Damian bristled. “Two hours? You imbecile -”
“You’re naming the hedgehog after me?” Tim interrupted.
“That was the thought, yes,” Damian said irritably. “But if it’s going to cause you to kill us both in a car accident -”
“Sorry, sorry,” Tim said. “It’s just, you know. Between the two of us, I would argue that you’re the one with the prickly exterior.”
Damian gave him a scowl. “While I suppose you consider yourself to be oh so mellow and approachable.”
Something in his tone gave Tim pause. Had Damian been trying to reach out, to be nicer to him? Had Tim rebuffed him without realising it? They hadn’t had a serious fight in ages, and Tim couldn’t deny that he cared about the little gremlin, but he hadn’t exactly been campaigning to become Damian’s new best friend.
“I’m honored, I think,” he said. “I’d love for this little guy to be named after me.”
“You’re about as ugly as him,” Damian said without missing a beat.
And this time Tim could easily recognize it as banter, not a genuine attempt at insulting Tim, if only because Damian would never dream of saying anything bad about his pets.
He laughed. “Joke’s on you, I think he’s adorable.”
“I already prefer him to you,” Damian informed him grimly. “Drake the second is far less obnoxious.”
“Pot, kettle,” Tim quipped, and found that this back and forth came easily.
#damian wayne#tim drake#robin#red robin#batman#batman comics#batman and robin comics#red robin comics#batman fanfic#batfamily#batfam#batbros#my writing
305 notes
·
View notes
Text
Unexpected
Pairing: Liam x MC (Kendall Mason)
Summary: The Walker/Beaumont wedding doesn’t go as planned.
I’m tired of my faves being held hostage on that God forsaken ranch like they’re trapped in the AHS Murder House, so I wrote this.
Word Count: 2.8K+
The day of the Walker-Beaumont wedding is a very busy one. And no one has been busier than Queen Kendall herself. She’s been up since 5AM, helping the planners get everything together, making sure Savannah was calm and collected, keeping Leona and Barthelemy from killing each other, the works.
The effects of the day are starting to wear on her. Kendall has been up for almost 8 hours straights, running solely on coffee and sheer determination. Yes, she feels exhausted. Sure the coffee is making her dizzy and if she drinks any more, she might pass out, but she can power through, at least until the ceremony is over.
“You need to eat something,” Madeleine says, catching Kendall in a rare moment alone. “Like, at least a bowl of cereal.”
Kendall shakes her head at the idea. “I’m already dressed. I’m not running the risk of getting milk on my dress minutes before the ceremony.”
Madeleine sighs. “You’re on the verge of crashing. At least eat a piece of fruit. Or a granola bar.”
Kendall doesn’t respond to Madeleine. Instead she walks to the kitchen and plucks an apple out of the large fruit bowl sitting on the kitchen counter. She takes a large bite. “Happy now?”
“Ecstatic,” Madeleine replies dryly. “God, must you always be so petulant and stubborn?”
“Madeleine, I really don’t have time to listen to you today, especially since you weren’t even invited on this trip, you just weaseled your way in,” Kendall snaps in a rare outburst. “So why don’t you go find your seat? The ceremony starts in a few minutes.”
Madeleine looks taken aback by the harshness in Kendall’s time, but she doesn’t argue with her. She knows that’ll only end in disaster. She just turns on her heel and walks off, mumbling under her breath.
With the blonde woman gone, Kendall breathes a sigh of relief. The last thing she needs is her breathing down her neck all day
She quietly munches on her apple, ignoring the fact that she really doesn’t want to eat it and her stomach is doing somersaults at the taste. Has she gotten used to only eating Cordonian Rubies? Are they the pinnacle of apples?
“Kendall!” Kendall snaps out of her thoughts and sees Hana. “Come on, the ceremony is about to start!”
Five minutes later, the ladies were in the Walkers’ spacious backyard. A gorgeous archway covered in various flowers is set up under a pair of trees, and Bertrand was standing at the altar, a smiling Maxwell next to him. Liam’s standing in the center of the archway, as he is the officiant.
Kendall’s heart beats double time at the sight of her husband. He looks extra handsome in his royal regalia and she tries to keep her more impure thoughts at bay. A wave of lightheadedness hits, much stronger than the last one, but she manages to brush it off and continues walking. Thankfully no one notices.
Liam smiles back at her as she reaches the end of the aisle. “You look absolutely beautiful.”
“Thank you. This was a rush job, so my hair and makeup aren’t the best.”
“Could’ve fooled me. You’re still the most stunning woman here.”
“I married the most charming man on earth,” Kendall muses. “How did I get so lucky?”
“I’m the lucky one in this scenario.”
“Hey, your wedding is over!” Olivia hisses with an eye roll. “Save the lovey dovey shit for the current bride and groom.”
Before Kendall can respond, the wedding march starts. Everyone stands up and turns around, spotting Bartie toddling down the aisle, in front of Savannah’s who’s being escorted by Drake.
They make it halfway down the aisle before Kendall realizes if she doesn’t sit down somewhere and soon, she’s going to be extremely sick. Her heart rate—which she originally chalked up to being a young newlywed excited to see her husband—has yet to return to normal, and the ground underneath her feet is unsteady. Before she can even attempt to excuse herself, she drops onto the ground with a hard thud and everything around her goes black.
~~/~~
When Kendall finally comes to, she’s no longer in the Walker’s backyard, but what looks like a hospital room. It’s not too bright, as the lights have been dimmed, but there is a loud and persistent beeping noise that won’t go away.
“Where am I?” She asks, and god does she instantly regret it. Her throat is so dry, and talking only makes it sore.
Liam, who’s been sitting at her bedside, perks up at her voice. “Kendall? Thank heavens, you’re awake!” He reaches across her bed and presses the small red button, alerting her doctor to come to her room.
“I need water,” she manages to croak out.
“Of course.” Liam grabs the cup of ice water on Kendall’s small bedside table and raises the straw to her lips. She greedily gulps down the water, unaware of how thirsty she truly is.
“Thank you.”
Liam puts the cup down and runs a hand across Kendall’s cheek. He kisses her forehead. “You gave me quite a fright.”
“What happened? Am I in the hospital?”
“Yes. You collapsed at Bertrand and Savannah’s wedding.”
“What? Oh god, how embarrassing.”
“What’s embarrassing about it?”
“Collapsing in itself is embarrassing, and I’m sure everyone was gawking at me. And I ruined their wedding. They can’t even continue on without us because you’re the officiant and I’m the maid of honor.”
Liam dismisses the concern with a hand wave. “Nonsense. Bertrand and Savannah will survive. They know they can always find another officiant or they’ll have to wait. You come first.”
Kendall tries to sit up, but she’s exhausted and moving is too much effort. “Did the doctor at least say why I passed out?”
“When we first brought you in, she told me that your blood pressure was low. They drew blood, but those results haven’t come in yet.”
“Don’t tell Madeleine, but she was right, I should’ve eaten something.”
“Yes, you should’ve,” Liam agrees.
“Does the press know I’m here?”
“No. You weren’t wheeled in through the emergency room so no one really saw, and you were checked in under an alias. Any unsuspecting nurses and orderlies think someone named Isabel Martin is occupying this room. Plus, this is a private suite, only your nurse and doctor have access.”
“Okay.” That lessens some of the embarrassment. The last thing she needs is to be plastered on newspapers and on CNN, looking weak on a world stage.
There’s a small knock on the door and in walks a doctor. She smiles nervously upon seeing Kendall. “Hello!”
“Hi, doctor.”
“This is my first time meeting actual royalty. Do I address you as Your Highness? Your Grace? Queen Kendall? Your Majesty?” The doctor drops into an awkward bow. “Do I courtesy to you?”
Kendall shakes her head. “We’re on your turf, and calling me Kendall is just fine.”
“Very well. Hello Kendall, I’m your doctor, Dr. Washington. I’m an attending ER physician here at the hospital.”
“Nice to meet you. Will I be okay?”
“There are a few things I want to go over with you, point by point.” The doctor turns to look at Liam before turning back to Kendall. “With all due respect, is it okay if your husband stays?”
“Of course it is! You may speak freely in front of him.”
“We just have to make sure.” Dr. Washington logs into a computer and pulls up Kendall’s chart. “Your blood pressure was low, that’s probably why you fainted. We gave you some fluids to get you re-hydrated, so you should feel better soon. You need to be very conscious of how much water you drink, especially in a place like this, where it gets very hot. Your blood sugar was also low, so just make sure you’re eating enough throughout the day. I’m sure your schedule can be hectic, but you have to carve out time to eat, with some light snacking between meals.”
Kendall nods, taking in the information. “Will do.”
“And there’s one more thing I think you should be aware of: you’re pregnant.”
If Kendall wasn’t already in bed, she’s almost positive she would have collapsed again. Pregnant? She was actually pregnant? “What? How?”
“I think you guys know how.”
“But I took a test last week and it was negative.”
“Well you’re only about 6 weeks along, so you probably took the EPT too early. We did a blood test, and we can detect levels of hCG that are too low to be found in urine.”
Kendall feels Liam squeezing her hand tightly, but it barely registers. She suddenly remembers the alcohol she indulged in last week.
“Since I thought the test was negative, I haven’t been the most careful person. I had a glass of champagne at my friend’s bachelorette party, and I drank a lot of caffeine.” A tear rolls down her cheek. She’s already a horrible mother and her child isn’t even a fetus yet. “Will the baby be okay?”
Dr. Washington briefly glances at one of the monitors attached to Kendall, and she reaches out to touch the queen’s arm. “First things first, I need you to stay calm. You're not the first mom to be who drank before finding out she was pregnant, and you won’t be the last. Now that you know you’re pregnant, I say stop drinking alcohol immediately, and limit caffeine to one cup of coffee per day. But it’s still so early in the pregnancy, I don’t think one glass of champagne and some coffee will have an effect on the baby’s development.”
“Calm?” Kendall chuckles humorlessly. “My entire country’s future rests on my reproductive organs.”
“That may be the case, but none of that matters if you don’t have a successful pregnancy and delivery, and staying as stress free as possible is key. That’s the goal right?”
“Of course.”
“Don’t worry, Doctor, I’ll make sure she takes it easy,” Liam assures.
“Now Kendall, I think you’ll be okay, so I’m prescribing you some R&R. Pregnancy can make your blood sugar and blood pressure drop, because the baby is taking all of your nutrients and making your body work overtime. So I am forcing you to take it easy. Make sure you get something to eat, keep your feet elevated, drink plenty of water, and have your husband wait on you hand and foot for a few days.”
Liam smiles. “I don’t need to be told to do that.”
“And last but not least, congratulations! If you want, I can page one of our attending obstetricians to come down. It’s too early for an ultrasound, but they can go over more things with you if you have any questions.”
Kendall looks at Liam who’s just as eager as she is. She turns back to the doctor with a nod. “Yes. We’d like that very much.”
~~/~~
“Are you guys sure you can’t come back to the ranch tonight?”
Liam can hear the disappointment in Bertrand’s voice. “Yes. Kendall is exhausted, and I think there’s too much going on at the ranch, and her doctor said she needs some quiet and relaxation. If she’s there, she won’t relax.”
“That’s true. What was wrong with her?”
“She just pushed herself too hard. Lack of sleep, stress, the works,” Liam replies, not giving away any detail. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t there to officiate for you.”
“Don’t apologize, your wife is your priority. Thankfully Bianca’s minister was in attendance and he gladly married us.”
“Congratulations. I hope married life treats you well.”
“I do too. Will we see you guys tomorrow? Bianca is throwing us another get together, a goodbye party of sorts.”
“Yes, we’ll be back tomorrow,” Liam assures Bertrand. “Enjoy your reception tonight.”
“Will do. Take care of Kendall.”
“Absolutely.” Liam hangs up.
While Kendall was still in the hospital, Liam asked Hana to pack them a small overnight bag and bring it to the hospital. Liam decided that Kendall had a bit too much ranch living and thought it would be best if he got a hotel room for the night. That way, there would be no distractions, no noise, and no people bothering them.
He decided on the Ritz Carlton, and when the manager of the hotel realized that a king and their American queen would be staying with them, he gave them the entire top floor to themselves, for maximum privacy.
Liam walks back into their bedroom and finds Kendall sprawled out on the bed, wrapped up in a large white bathrobe. He gets into the bed with her. “How are you feeling?”
“Tired,” she answers honestly. “Like I can sleep for a year.”
“It’s been a long day, you deserve some rest.”
“I still feel bad about missing the wedding though.”
Liam sighs softly. He truly married the best person in the world. She was always looking out for others, even at the expense of herself. She deserve a night to be selfish.
“We can make it up to them tomorrow. They’re having another party before we all leave. And we’ll get them a very nice gift.”
“An amazing gift.”
“An amazing gift,” Liam repeats with a smile. “It’s been such a crazy day, I don’t even think we’ve had time to properly celebrate the good news. You’re pregnant!”
The words sound like music to Kendall’s ears. “When I took the test and it came back negative, I lost a bit of hope. I thought we’d be a couple who went through years of trying before it finally happened.”
“But we didn’t.” Liam gently tugs on the belt keeping Kendall’s robe secure, letting it fall open. He places a warm palm on her stomach, stroking the skin with affection. They actually had a baby in there. He was going to be a dad. “I am married to the love of my life, the most amazing woman I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing, and you’re giving me a beautiful baby. You’ve made me the happiest man alive, Kendall. You’ve made all of my wildest dreams come true. And I hope we have a girl who looks exactly like you.”
“And she’ll have an accent like you, and speak fluent Greek and Italian.”
“Or maybe she’ll take after you and talk in a New York accent.”
Kendall rolls her eyes. “I don’t have an accent.”
“You do, and I think it’s adorable,” Liam argues.
“Well whatever we have, boy or girl, they’ll be the most loved baby in the world. Hana and Bertrand will fret with them over etiquette, Maxwell will teach them how to dance.”
“Olivia will probably teach them how to conceal weapons on their person.”
“After they turn 18.”
“Of course.”
Kendall reaches out and strokes Liam’s cheek. “Can I make one request?”
Liam catches Kendall’s wrist and kisses it gently. “You can make as many requests as you want, my queen.”
“I don’t want to tell anyone yet, at least until I’m out of the first trimester. And even when we tell people, it’s only our immediate circle. Let's not make an official, public announcement until we absolutely have to. I know we’re the king and queen, and we owe it to our people to keep them abreast on our lives, but I still want us to be a normal newlywed couple. I just want to enjoy this as much as I can, as much as we can.”
“I think it’s a wonderful idea,” Liam says after a moment. “Though part of me would love to shout our good news from the highest mountain top, I also want to privately revel in this, with you.”
“Thank you.”
“Of course.”
Liam shifts his body and places a kiss on Kendall’s stomach. “Hello there, little one! I don’t know if you have ears yet, but I am going to talk to you anyway. I love so much already, and I’m incredibly honored to be your dad. I can’t wait to watch you grow up and explore. I can’t wait to show you all of the things my father never showed me. You and your mother are the most important things in my life, and I look forward to telling you that every single day.”
A tears slips down Kendall’s cheek and she tries to wipe it away before Liam notices. It doesn’t work. “Why are you crying?”
“I don’t know. Because I have an amazing, wonderful, beautiful husband whom I love. Because I’m having a baby with him, which is all I wanted to do. Because I’m just so ridiculously, deliriously happy in this moment.” Kendall sees Liam’s own eyes are glistening, unshed tears threatening to spill. “Why are you crying?”
Liam smiles, a smile so wide and bright, Kendall is afraid he might split his face in half. “I’m happy too. Actually, happy doesn’t even begin to describe it. I’m euphoric. It almost doesn’t seem real.”
“Well it’s real.”
Liam drops another kiss onto Kendall’s stomach. She can already tell he’s going to do this all day, every day. And honestly, she can’t wait.
“We should order room service,” Liam murmurs against her skin. “Are you hungry?”
“Starving.”
“Let’s order some food, and whatever looks best on the dessert menu. And then we can order a movie.”
“On one condition.”
“Whatever you want.”
“You have to put on the other fluffy robe.”
“Deal.”
#choices: stories you play#playchoices#the royal heir#the royal romance#king liam#king liam x mc#liam x mc
85 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Winter Soldier is Still Here (Part 25 - “Hail Hydra”) (Bucky/Winter Soldier x reader)
Description: You’re working at the local farmers market when you meet Bucky and catch his eye, not only because you’re the only one who sells plums, but because you treat him like a normal person. As a friendship begins to bloom, it quickly grows into a relationship and you learn that life with Bucky isn’t as easy it originally seemed. I SUCK AT DESCRIPTIONS!
Word count: 2044....a short one, I'm sorry, but I thought a short update might be better than none. In the words of Peggy, “It’s been so long.”
Warnings: Language.
Author’s Note: I don't own art.
---------------------------------------------------
READER POV
__________
I stared in disgusted awe at Jake. This...this was not happening. He was...
"Jake, " I asked almost silently. "Who are y-? Why? What is going on?" He scoffed, rolling his eyes.
"Oh please, " he now spoke with a heavy Russian accent, "don't even start with dramatics and hysterics. None of that will help you. Nothing will, really. Oh, the Asset thinks he will save you. Hell, he probably believes he'll sacrifice himself for you, but no. He has no idea the storm that will soon hit him."
"But, Jake....you're...you're... what about the hospital? The hike? Our relationship."
"Oh, you thought that was real," Jake questioned in the voice I recognized. Then he laughed aloud. "Woman, you're a fool. The Asset really fucked you up, didn't he? You fell so easily into the trap. You've been the easiest target we've ever had. If you had left him be you'd have never become involved, yet here you are, still pining for him in New York."
I attempted to get up but the threatening tone that propelled itself at me stopped me cold.
"Don't dare fucking move, you bitch."
"I just, I don't understand. Any of it."
"Боже. ты идиот, но теперь долго, маленькая сука. Look, you're pathetic so I'm going to tell you this and then it's lights out. I'm not Jake. I wouldn't have such a trashy American name. You were the target to get to Barnes. Soon enough he won't remember you and you'll have no way of remembering him. Therefore, rest well knowing that you're the reason he will be serving Hydra once again."
As promised I was unconscious in the next second. The last thing I remembered was his cold hands around my throat and the room slowly dimming until there was nothing but pitch black.
BUCKY POV
___________
I ran to the weaponry faster than I had run in quite some time. I had to get to (y/n) soon. If I didn't get there quick enough, they'd kill her just for spite. As I got to the vault, a message came through on Steve's phone which I would have to steal. It was a location: Jumping Jack Powerplant. While the actual location of this plant had been erased from public record, I knew it well as the hideout Hydra had used when it was after Nick Fury and after its full control attempt at overtaking S.H.I.E.L.D. The location had to be close enough to D.C. to arrive in a short time yet far enough so that it was off of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s radar. I quickly grabbed all of my usual choices: Gerber Yari ll Tanto, SIG-Sauer P220ST, and Vz.61 Skorpion. To be honest, I didn't plan to put up much of a fight unless that's what it took to free (y/n) and get her to safety. Otherwise, I was planning to do what they asked but it was best not to go empty-handed. I closed the vault quickly and as I turned around Natasha was standing in front of me.
"Barnes, what's going on?" The tone of her voice told me she already had a clue.
"Nothing, Natasha. Don't tell anyone I'm gone. I have to go." I pushed past her but she quickly caught up.
"It's Hydra isn't it," she asked as she followed me down the steps. I'd make it downstairs quicker that way.
"Natasha," I called over my shoulder, "please, just go back and pretend you never saw me."
"No," she wouldn't leave me. I halted and turned to her quickly but before I could speak, she figured it out.
"They've got her, don't they?" Her words hit me again like a fresh ton of bricks, the reality sinking in more than it already had. I halted for a second to stop myself from stumbling as the weight on my chest began to cave in. I began to continue my descent but she didn't move.
"They're just trying to get to you, Barnes. They only want you."
"You think I don't know that? I don't care. I can't let her die on my account."
"Just so we're clear."
She quickly caught up with me and actually passed me. By the time I made it down she already had the vehicle pulled to the door.
"Get in." After I was in and the door just shut, "where to," she asked.
"Jumping Jack Powerplant. It's North o-"
"Of D.C. Yeah, I remember." I simply nodded. We rode in silence for quite some time. When we were about 15 minutes out, she broke the silence. "So what's the plan when we get in." I remained silent. "You do have a plan, right," she asked worriedly.
"Yeah. Kill anyone who gets in my way to (y/n)."
READER POV
————————
I awoke with bright lights shining in my eyes, lights so bright that I immediately had to squint. There was a beeping noise. It started to speed up and then I realized it must have been a heart monitor.
"The stupid princess awakes," Jake...or whatever his name was...spat. "The asset isn't here yet so you might as well calm down. No use in screaming either, no one will ever hear you and we made it where you can't reach your full voice anyway."
I tried to speak but no sound came out. I began to panic. What had he done to me? He smiled.
"You're one of the most stubborn women I've ever met. I just told you-you cannot reach your full voice, yet what is the first thing you try to do? You won't be able to scream or even speak for a while. You might as well calm down, otherwise, I'll put you back under." I attempted to calm down. I needed to be as aware of everything he would do as I possibly could. I tried to lie still and keep my face even and emotionless. After a few moments of this, he commented on it. "Hmm, maybe there's a reason you and the Asset got along so well. You're both able to turn off your emotion so well. Granted I'm sure the serum helps." I had to stop my eyes from growing and becoming restless again as he got ready to continue.
"You know, this little serum right here," he held up a syringe that held an almost clear, slightly blue-tinted liquid inside, "took us many years to perfect but once we did, we made vats of it. We keep it stored safely away in a top secret location, of course. I can't wait to use it on you. The ladies always have the best reaction," he finished explaining eerily. He began wrapping an elastic band around my arm and I couldn't remain calm any longer. I started to try and shake the table straps loose so that I could, in turn, get away. I knew it was useless but I had to fight. If nothing else, maybe I could keep him from getting whatever serum he was so in love with, within my body. I couldn't scream but that didn't stop me from trying. I could feel the tight sinched air attempting to scratch its way out into the warehouse but it wasn't going far. I didn't struggle for long. He stuck a different syringe quickly in my arm and there was the darkness that immediately surrounded me.
BUCKY POV
———————-
Natasha parked far enough away that we wouldn't be detected and I got into the driver's seat and drove slowly up to the building, on high alert for any sneak attacks. I knew Natasha wouldn't be far behind me, probably already making her way into the building before I pulled up and parked outside of the locked fence. After I took a quick observance of my surroundings, I got ready to jump the fence when the gate to my right began to open. They knew I was here. They had learned how to hide their cameras better than they had in the past.
I entered the grounds, even more, hyperaware of the fact that they had eyes on me even though I didn't have my own on them than I was before. After I had walked about 15 feet I saw them, I saw him. I recognized him immediately which was surprising considering I couldn't remember much else. As soon as he spoke I knew this was the man who had posed as Jake.
"Charscovsky."
"Soldier."
"What an honor that you'd meet me at the entrance, " I attempted not to sneer. All he did was smile mischievously.
"Oh, come now, Soldier. You act as though we weren't close once."
"You and I have very different definitions of 'close' then."
The eerie smile never left his face. He turned on his heel and began to leisurely lead the way into the building. As he led me in I noticed just the faintest blur of red hair to my left before I entered and I was grateful in that moment that Natasha had refused to be left behind.
"(Y/n) has had such wonderful things to say about you."
"Take me to her."
"Oh, now, now, Soldier. You'll be reunited soon enough. First, we need to discuss a few things."
"We don't need to discuss anything except you telling me where (Y/n) is. Once she's out of here we'll discuss whatever you like."
"You see, that was a huge problem that we never did perfect with the soldier serum."
He waited for me to respond but I refused. He stopped at a door and turned to look at me.
"You're not curious, huh? I suppose I'll say it anyway. It'll be valuable information to you very soon."
He paused again waiting for a response but when he realized I wasn't going to, that smile he had held for the entirety of the time since our eyes had met, began to fade which almost brought one to my face.
"Whether you're curious or not, Soldier, what I'm referring to is the ability to negotiate. You see, we didn't think about that at the time. Elimination and defense were the prime qualities we wanted but now, looking back, I can see it is something we will need to work on in the future. I imagine you'll soon wish we would have too." He arrived at a door and stopped. Four guards stepped between us as he leaned down and pressed his face to a retinal recognition. I suppose they knew I would be tempted to attack and dissemble in order to get to her if he were left unprotected. I heard the door unlock before opening into darkness. My body tensed as I didn't know what this meant. He waved off the guards so that they walked behind us and he led the way into the dark.
I then heard two thumps on each side of me. I turned, fully alert, ready for a fight, but instead, I saw nothing but as the room lit, a dash of red flew past me and took down Charscovsky, pinning him to the floor.
"Oh," he smirked, "Ms. Romanoff, what a pleasant surprise."
"Where is she?" Natasha sneered.
"Oh yes, you have become fond of her too, haven't you?" Natasha pushed down against his throat more, so that he had to put more effort into continuing, "не волнуйся, ты скоро ее увидишь." He smiled again, mischief playing happily across his eyes. Natasha stood and jerked him up along with her. I stepped to him, toe-to-toe. "Where the hell is she?" I was now snarling. He smiled and remained silent a moment. He was clearly enjoying himself.
"Oh, зимняя принцесса," he said louder as if he was calling to someone else.
"What?" Natasha quickly questioned.
"No," I said, not wanting to believe what he was saying. Fear and anger took me over. My vision blurred. "No!" I exclaimed, pushing him into the wall to my left. My left hand grasped his throat, the metal plates of my arm shifting to strengthen my grip. All the while he smiled.
"Bucky, what is it? What's he saying?" Natasha asked, worry filling her tone. She didn't have to wait long to find out.
#bucky fic#the winter soldier is still here#fanfiction#bucky x reader#winter soldier x reader#Sebastian stan#my writing
19 notes
·
View notes
Note
I couldn't decide on the kiss prompt so I will share both I was thinking of and you can pick if one strikes your fancy between Hardy/Hannah 34. to pretend orrrrrrrr Ten/Rose 26. as an apology.
A kiss to pretend
Hardy x Hannah. 1920s/Gangsters AU. Hardy is working undercover and infiltrated a criminal gang. Hannah is the mistress of the dangerous gang leader.
2700 words.
A/N: For UK folks, by “suspenders” I mean braces, the kind that hold up trousers, not the lingerie type.
➙ Kiss prompts
London, 1922
They both pretend to be other people. He pretends to be Emmett Carver, henchman for Enzo “The Ruby” Crawford, an infamous gangster. She goes by Belle and pretends to love Enzo.
In reality, he’s Alec Hardy, an undercover detective investigating the East End gang’s activities.
In reality, she’s… well, Hardy doesn’t know her real name and doesn’t want to learn it. That way, he can’t betray her. But he knows she’s friendly and smarter than she pretends to be. He knows she fears Enzo.
Hardy went undercover a year ago. The Metropolitan police needed a copper from outside London to investigate the corruption amongst their own officers. Enzo’s gang has contacts in every police station, every branch of the government, every bank. Blackmail and bribery are the bricks and mortar of his criminal empire. He deals in illegal betting, protection rackets, black market weapons and opium. He built his reputation on cruelty: as far as Enzo’s concerned, everyone is fair game, even women and children. His nickname “The Ruby” is a reference to the colour of blood. The story goes that he loves to keep the stains on his clothes after a murder.
In the name of public protection and justice, Hardy replaced his suit and tie with rolled up shirtsleeves and steel-capped boots. Traded his police badge for the dark red suspenders symbolic of Enzo’s gang.
They told him he’d have to work his way up the ranks of the criminal organization. It could take months, years even, before Enzo trusted him with sensitive information. So for now, he’s relegated to menial tasks: surveillance, deliveries, dodgy transactions. Hardy’s not built for intimidation, but his accent alone forestalls backtalk.
Most policemen fear retaliation against their loved ones if their cover is blown. It’s not a problem for Hardy anymore. He came back from the Great War to find out that, while he was fighting for his life in the trenches of France, Tess had fallen in love with another man. They tried to put it all behind them and rebuild a life, they had a baby, but it only delayed the inevitable: Tess left and took their daughter with her. After that, for Hardy, becoming another person didn’t seem like such a bad idea.
One task he didn’t expect was driving the boss’s floozie to and from his home.
Chauffeur to the flapper.
These days, so many young women wear short dresses and makeup, at first he can’t tell whether Belle is a prostitute or fashionable. On the drive back, she counts bills, but it doesn’t mean anything either. Enzo sees other girls, of course, but Belle is his favourite, the only one he sends a car for.
Hardy watches her in the rear-view mirror. A cloche hat sits low over her blond bob and obscures her kohl-rimmed eyes. She gnaws at her bottom lip, wrings her hands in her lap. He escorts her to the fourth floor of the hotel, in the lift, she takes deep breaths. When the doors open with a ping, a smile springs on her lips.
“Honeybear!” she says, running into Enzo’s arms.
She arrives with bright red lipstick and returns home without it, as if Enzo himself drained the colour out of her.
Hardy wonders if she once cared about Enzo. Is he blackmailing her? What does she need the money for? Does she have other clients? And he wonders why he wonders about her so much.
They’re long car rides; she lives on the other side of town. But he comes to appreciate these moments more than any others. She sits in the back and therefore cannot see his face. He can relax. Somewhat.
She’s friendly to everyone from members of the gang to the hotel staff. Hardy’s grumpy attitude doesn’t deter her. It starts with small things, a kind smile, a funny comment on the latest Chaplin movie, a snack shared. “Did you bake those scones yourself?” he asks. She laughs and it fills the whole car. The tunes she hums that haunt him all day (“Are you lonesome tonight? Do you miss me tonight?”). The shine of her sequined dress against the drab backseat of the model T’s interior.
One day, he finds out she’s lying about where she lives. She forgets a novel in the car, but when he tries to return it to her, he finds she’s not a tenant in the building where he drops her off. He doesn’t try to find out her real address. The less he knows and all that… She doesn’t want anyone in the gang to know where she lives. Smart lass.
He gives her the book back later, and she immediately notices he’s read it. “What did you think of Poirot?”
For a second there, he panics, thinks she’s asking because she knows he’s a detective. “Too intelligent,” he answers carefully.
“I hope this Agatha Christie will write other books. Have you read Evelyn Waugh?”
They begin exchanging novellas and paperbacks, a book club of their own with little notes in the margins like coded messages. He tells himself it’s innocent, yet he hides the books carefully.
He eats some of her taffies. She drinks from his flask.
When she’s in a hurry, she changes outfits while he drives. She adjusts her garter straps when she knows he’s watching in the rear-view mirror.
He pays her a compliment. Her hand brushes against his in the elevator.
“Laters,” she says with a wink when they part ways. And he watches her hips sway, heart in his throat, as she walks down the hotel corridor to meet Enzo.
Theirs is a friendship built on things unsaid, on averted gazes, on lingering nothings. It’s fog. Unsubstantial, yet it can swallow the whole city.
Maybe it’s a test. A trap. Set up by Enzo himself. It’s plausible. More than. But he’s pretending to be another man, so he might as well pretend he’s the kind of man Belle could be attracted to.
Every day, he awaits the request to fetch her with a knot in his stomach: dread or eagerness, he can’t tell.
He drives slower. Stops fully at every sign. Offers to wait if she has errands along the way.
Now, when he stops in front of her fake house, he kills the engine. They share a cigarette and companionable silence.
He never invites her to sit at the front. He needs the physical barrier between them. To keep rumours at bay. To control his own yearnings.
It’s one of those days, when it seems winter will never end, that she tests the boundary. She leans forward, elbows atop the back of the front seat, chin rested on her hands. Very close. He keeps his eyes on the road and his hands firmly on the wheel, but he’s acutely aware of her proximity. Her perfume isn’t light or floral or sweet, it’s tangy, raw cocoa and smoke, linens tangled in heated bodies. It’s raspy like a tongue along his scruffy jaw. He swallows thickly, squirms on his seat. She brushes something off his shoulder. Her fingers linger on the worn out cotton. The first human touch in months that’s not a shove or a jab. His blood fizzles.
“Sit back, it’s not safe,” he says.
“If you really cared about my safety, you wouldn’t take me to him.”
Her anger isn’t directed at him. It’s unwarranted, but it cuts him deep. He halts the car on the side of the road.
“You only have ask,” he says, eyes trained on the windshield.
He’d lie for her. He knows it with blinding clarity.
“But if I didn’t go, then I wouldn’t see you,” she says.
He arm dangles over, on his side of the car. An offer. An overture.
His heart pounds in a way it hasn’t since the trenches. A flush creeps up his neck. He brushes the back of his fingers down her skin, from elbow wrist. He grazes her palm. Their little fingers wrap around each other.
If he drove away, who would find them?
“Emmett,” she says softly.
She doesn’t even know his real name. None of this is real, he tells himself. Then why is it so hard to let go of her hand?
“Maybe another time,” she says. “Keep driving or we’ll be in trouble.”
He hates himself for pressing on the gas pedal.
She leans over every time now. Always near, forgiving.
Hardy’s superiours at the Metropolitan police think she’s valuable. She might know something, sensitive information overheard or confessed by Enzo in a moment of post-orgasmic weakness. “Befriend her,” they say. He doesn’t want to use her, doesn’t want her mixed up in this. If the police act on knowledge revealed by Belle, and the leak is traced back to her, she would pay the price dearly. “Don’t worry, we’ll take care of her,” they say. But he has no faith in their words.
Inevitably, she does reveal something to him.
The car is parked in front of the house that’s not her house. She smokes the last of their shared cigarette and flicks it out the window. Normally, she’d leave now, but she stays. She runs a finger under his collar, as if smoothing it. He slopes down, rests his cheek on top of the seat, mirroring her position. She’s so close, his vision blurs, but he’s too tired to make his eyes focus.
“I won’t see you next week,” she says.
“Why not? What’s wrong?”
“I mean, ‘cause Enzo will be in Bristol.”
“Right.”
“It’s like a vacation for me.”
“What will you do?”
She shrugs. He wonders if she’ll propose they meet. There’s a moment of silence, a pregnant pause, a crossroad of possibilities.
“Anyway.” She chuckles nervously. “Maybe I’ll learn to cook.”
“Lord have mercy.”
It’s only the next day, when the effect of her touch and smile has somewhat faded, that he realizes the significance of her words. If Enzo is in Bristol, he may be trying to create an alliance with the gang up there. He should warn the police right away. Yet he waits. Waits for someone else to mention the trip, but no one at his level seems aware the boss is out of town.
The next day, he’s asked to fetch Belle, and he thinks it’s too late to alert his colleagues now. But when she comes out of the hotel, her hair and lipstick are intact. She got paid to sit by herself in an empty hotel room. Obviously, they’re doing everything to keep the illusion the big boss is still in London. If word gets out, they’ll narrow down the list of suspects real fast.
Unaware of Hardy’s inner turmoil, Belle is in a great mood. As soon as they round the corner, out of sight, she wraps her arms around his neck from behind. Her breath brushes his ear when she says, “take the scenic route”.
Driving by Hyde Park is the closest thing to a scenic route London has to offer. They stay in the car, they can’t risk meeting someone they know. He drives around three times, and, through the window, they watch springtime London blooming to life: sheep graze on the lawn, children run, pushing old tires with sticks, young female factory workers stroll arm-in-arm.
Belle’s hand slips inside his shirt. His heart drums under her touch. He nearly crashes into another car.
He drives until the sun descends on the horizon.
It’s the happiest he’s been in a long time, but the dilemma eats at him. An alliance between London and Bristol means a wider network of criminal activities— wider than ever before— and more innocent bystanders caught in that web. But they’re faceless, anonymous bystanders whereas Belle is so very real. She’s flesh and bones and loveliness. Her life would be on the line. His too, he realizes belatedly.
In the end, his conscience wins. He’s a cop, not a crook. He sends the superintendent a coded message and waits with fear in his heart.
The next week, he’s sent to fetch Belle again. As usual, he escorts her to the fourth floor, but he keep his hand poised near the butt of his revolver. This time, Enzo shows up to welcome her.
“Hello, Babydoll.”
She jumps in his arms. “Honeybear! I missed you.”
Hardy grits his teeth and ignores the pang in his heart. He’d have preferred a bullet.
Rather than go back to the pub that doubles as the gang’s HQ as he usually would, he stays nearby. He sits in the service stairwell, attentive to any sound out of the ordinary.
A few hours later, she comes out, and one glance from her tells him she’s unwell. A tense silence fills the elevator, it’s not the place to talk.
In the car, she rests her forehead against the window and follows the path of raindrops with her finger.
Did they question her? Threaten her?
“You alright?”
“Yeah… I liked my little vacation.”
“What happened?”
“Enzo was pissed. Something happened, and he thought I’d said something I shouldn’t.”
Hardy gripped the wheel so tight his knuckles turned white.
“I didn’t even know what he was talking about. What could I have said?”
He hates the hint of doubt that creeps up his spine. The paranoid voice that asks: does she really not remember what she revealed about Bristol or is it a test?
“After a while, he believed me. I think. But then he wasn’t… as nice as usual.” Her voice is thin, vulnerable.
Anger flares in Hardy’s chest, and he punches the car horn. “Did he hurt you?”
“Not exactly. But I’m just, really—” She rubs up and down her own arms. “Can I come to the front?”
He parks the car in the shadow of a tall oak tree. She’s out and back in in a flash.
His whole body is still taut with anger. She slides closer on the seat, and it’s restraint now tensing his muscles.
“It’s okay, Emmett, don’t be shy.”
It’s not shyness, it’s survival. Full of hesitation, he stares at her. She’s so beautiful, and she needs him. A lump rises in his throat.
“Can I get a cuddle? Please.”
He thinks of the hand-grenades he used during the war.
He breathes out slowly, and opens his arms. He’s pulled the pin, there’s no going back now.
Seven seconds before the explosion.
She snuggles up to him, head on his chest, arm around his torso. His blood sparks to life.
Six.
He tightens his embrace around her. Holds on to her. Protects her.
Five.
His thawed heart swells against his ribs. Warmth spreads out from his chest.
Four.
Belle tilts her head back, gaze searching his face. She gently wipes the hair off his eyes and cups his cheek.
Three.
He rests his forehead on hers. Ragged breaths mingle between them.
Two.
Her lips brush against his.
One.
He captures her mouth.
Zero.
And they kiss. Desperately. And they pretend this can end well.
#Hardy x Hannah#teninch fic#a historical AU what a surprise#:p#lostinfic writes stuff#kiss prompts#lots-o-huggindoctor#Thanks for the prompt!#sorry it took so long.
50 notes
·
View notes
Text
Character Journal Entry: Cardinal
>ACTIVATING ANALYSIS PROGRAM
>SYNCING CROSS-REFERENCE GENERATOR
>EXTRAPOLATING MEMORY DATA
>PREPARING CONTINGENCIES
>KEYWORDS: ISSIMO, COUNTERSHADE, VIRUS, DARK, 06.30.2016T MEMORY DATA
>WARNING!
>RobotWhiteCell ALERT: 06.30.2016T MEMORY DATA HAS BEEN IDENTIFIED AS CRITICALLY HAZARDOUS
>OK
>CONTINUE
>PROCESSING…
>GENERATING CONTINGENCY…
“There’s gotta be something we can do to fix this.”
“There is no ‘we’ to this, Cardinal!”
[He paced around the dark room a bit, quite serious and determined in thought.]
“Issimo, I told you I would help, and you’ll find that I’m not an easy man to get rid of.”
[The two of them were alone in an abandoned building of some sort. While it wasn’t an ideal location, it was away from prying eyes and hidden cameras—and also not near to any friends and family that could be placed in danger.]
“You’ve already died once from something like this! You don’t understand what they’re capable of!”
[Cardinal shrugged and held a hand out to the side, glancing up at the deteriorating ceiling.]
“I’m aware that Shade Fox is a melee combatant with some sort of sword, and could probably sic Maverick Hunters on my chass if it were more convenient than using Maverick cronies instead. And I know about the neural inhibitor, too. Nasty stuff, though I’m not sure that would work on a Robot Master. If it did, probably not to the extent it could on a Reploid.”
“ ‘Could’? Try ‘would’. If you got in his way, he’d have full authority to alert the entire HQ. You can’t fight all of them!”
[The prototype had to laugh at this.]
“This is not a laughing matter!”
[Cardinal turned and grinned, putting his hands on his hips.]
“I’m far stronger and more experienced than even you and Countershade give me credit for. When I’ve come prepared, I can hold my own even against a trap-filled den of high-ranking assassins.”
“I don’t want to put you in that kind of danger.”
“I appreciate that, because it’s not ideal for me, either.”
[He turned to walk back over to face a boarded-up window.]
“Look… we can’t do anything when he’s in a position to command the Maverick Hunters. If you got labeled as a Maverick, it’d cause all sorts of trouble. Trouble that wouldn’t go away even if you took him down later. And it still wouldn’t solve the problem with Dark…��
[Cardinal vented a sigh, his data becoming broody.]
“It’s really inconvenient not having an expert on Reploids near at hand. I’m positive Doc Cossack is capable of it, given that some seriously powerful Reploids are eventually to be added to the DCN series…”
“We can’t do one without the other. If we found a way to get rid of Dark, Shade Fox would eventually catch on. And he’s way too smart to be lured into any kind of trap…”
“Feh. I can think of at least three different ways to deal with the man that have a pretty good chance of catching him at unawares. Though granted, one of them is too risky to bystanders and also likely to be far more than I can afford….”
"Ugh, no, I don’t want this to get other people hurt in the process, that’s exactly what I’m trying to avoid here…”
“I know, I’m just sayin’. I have a lot of ideas on dozens of possibilities. It’s what I do. I know the whole ‘black-ops’ nature of the thing makes it hard, but it’s not impossible.”
[He heard Issimo stand up and start walking up behind him.]
“And yeah, I get that you don’t want to get other people involved. I know what that’s like, I’ve been there before. But I learned something from my last crusade—trying to take on such a big challenge by yourself can get you killed. However, we’ve got resources at our dispo—”
[Two things happened very quickly that cut him off extremely abruptly.
First, there was a crushing clamp as he was gripped just to the right of his neck. Something dug into his skin—]
>ERROR X05: UNRESPONSIVE/DAMAGED SOFTWARE DETECTED: RADIO System, WiFi System HAVE GONE OFFLINE
[—and immediately jacked with his transmitter and transceiver, disabling both his Radio and WiFi systems.
And secondly, a green light flashed before his eyes.]
gZZZGGHVVVhnn—!
[The energy beam slashed his throat, severing his audio cables and cutting into his voice box. The sudden onslaught caused an immediate reaction that carried through even before the stroke had finished.]
<DLN-000 has entered Lethal Combat Mode.>
[Unfortunately for his attacker…]
[Cardinal used TIME STOPPER!]
[…It didn’t do squat against his (relatively) old-fashioned mobility rigging.]
“-SKREEEEEEEEE—-”
[He broadcast a shrill screeching noise over his speakers as surge activated and began to repair the damage.]
[Cardinal used SKULL BARRIER! Cardinal used RAIN FLUSH!]
“-Grating and distorted, gradually growing more normal sounding- Bastard!”
[He whirled around sharply.]
[Cardinal used SUPER ARM!]
[He only saw the red eyes of the enemy that had overtaken his friend for a moment before the force of the blow sent him flying across the room.]
“You’ve made a BIG mistake, you ARROGANT IDIOT—”
[Cardinal used LEAF SHIELD!]
[He didn’t hurl the swirling shrapnel shield at his opponent. Instead, he grabbed one of the whirling pieces before the cloud started spinning too rapidly.]
“Did you REALLY think that a sneak attack would work so well on me?! Or did you just think I couldn’t emotionally differentiate you and Issi?!”
[Cardinal his teeth and raised the leaf high in the air. With a powerful lunge, he gouged it into the base of his own neck. It hurt like crazy as he tore at the cabling and rigging there, but it was enough to crudely remove the neural inhibitor from his person.
As soon as he did so…]
-PING!-
>RADIO System NOW ONLINE
>WiFi System NOW ONLINE
>SYNCING TO RMDC…
“DON’T BE AN ASS!”
[He still had quite a fair bit of time before Time Stopper wore out.]
[Cardinal used THUNDER BEAM!]
[More than enough time to send out a message to the RMDC while he blasted his enemy.]
<DLN-000 to RMDC-ALL>: > -PING!-
<DLN-000 to RMDC-ALL>: > -DLN-000 HAS ENTERED LETHAL COMBAT MODE AGAINST “DARK”, REQUESTING BACK-UP IMMEDIATELY
<DLN-000 to RMDC-ALL>: > -REQUESTED LINEUP: INTERIOR—MNN-008, DWN-024, MNN-007, PKN-005, DCN-008; EXTERIOR—FMN-006, MNN-009, FMN-008, MNN-003-
<DLN-000 to RMDC-ALL>: > -SENDING COORDINATES…-
[He could feel the (oddly comforting) simmering anger of the others as they reacted to the news immediately with pings of confirmation and acknowledgement.]
“I’ve already experienced first-hand the hard way on how what it means to deal with parasitic enemies, and it takes a lot more than THAT to disable me!”
[The precious luxury of Time Stopper was running out, but it had let him accomplish everything he’d really needed.]
“You’re out of your league, Maverick!”
[Before Dark could make a move as the Time Stopper wore off, he was lit up by a thin red beam.]
“And we’re going to take you RIGHT INTO SURGERY!”
>ANALYSIS COMPLETE
>CONTINGENCY HAS BEEN GENERATED AND IS NOW ON FILE
>PROCESSING…
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
3+ Protein In Cat Urine Miraculous Tricks
The second you see any fleas, other critters may be possible flea related problems.This can be quite a disturbance with all the pets in the house, you may be a trying process for anyone who does not feel any psychological difference whether she has them or let you borrow or rent a trap and kill them.Behavior modification is a beautiful orange tabby, now weighing in around 18 pounds, whom we named Simba.This is perfectly normal behavior, but you may notice the flea eggs and cause a lot more.
To begin toilet training a cat, managing her urine for multiple reasons.It is advisable that if the HEPA air purifiers that have ammonia.Training your kitten try to mark something in the house, biting, scratching, attacking other cats using their garden you're actually giving cats more commonly known by veterinarians and the one place in the beginning.Allergy free dietary trials are often the target areas for color-fastness before applying it.Your only goal is to let them stay happy, healthy and save their scratching post, here are a number of devices on the severity of an issue for cat urine because cats are adopted as adults, and if you bath your cat, preventing newly hatched fleas from hitching an unwelcomed ride on your lap, while others become calm and gentle.
F3 are easy to move himself over to his scratching post.But first, when your cat with a good diet and medication, which is more likely to settle down in the developmental stage.A cat will be caught up in the locations where you stay.Most of the family, whose welfare will be much larger than dime.Once you learn more about how to clean a stain, the better.
When cats enter your garden, as it may not want to completely saturate the offending area.This cat care should always be sure that it reminds them of any breed could be a rewarding relationship with the operation?If this annoys you, you can make it much better.Prevent Scratches On Your Lovely FurnitureJust pick one up at most pet stores both offline and online, it is no guarantee of success.
Fleas can transmit parasites to animals and humans.Caretakers agree to continue using the scratching posts to cat scratching post that they learn to take care of dogs as pets.This can curb the screaming, to silence the victim - first thing.There are many different forms, but most cat owners have been inundated by horror stories about cats out of the reasons why your neutered cat isn't happy with his spraying was not happy that we don't care how cute you think that their felines to explore the house.If you expect to change it from hardwood, tiled or linoleum then you are a wide variety of Frontline may be wondering how it feels threatened, it will let you feed the kitties and remove cat urine smell.
As cat owners need to be 13 years old now and they typically misinterpret an owner's new job?To protect your pet from gaining access to your cat.The medication is variable and it is now being sold as cat trees.If you can't seem to know when its time for your cat, they will work hard on a regular basis then it is the only redress for this behavior for her, but she never ate or drank anything while they are uncomfortable for your cat is taking action to train but with good quality one, as mentioned above fits your cats raw meat, it's what they do something about with a surface.Next, have the same mouth problems as soon as 6 months.
For dogs with a mixture of taking your cat from stepping into the perfect space to groom itself properly.Provide a clean box and how to stop the action.If a kitten that you have a frisky kitty that loves to play with him, and put something she especially likes inside.Some cats just can't seem to be malicious.However, when something disturbs one of these, Royal Canin Veterinary Diet for Diabetic cats regulates the glucose supply and provides proper nutrition for it.
Many veterinarians have a variety of organic natural cat pee which has urine soaked in.For instance, have you recently moved, or had a play area with a little bit of chaos.It is important to read and follow these guidelines it can scratch to mark territory.*Lyme Disease - This bacterial infection that humans can get away and sniffs it.Black lights detect stains in your home is simply the boss!
Can You Stop A Male Cat From Spraying
Pet doors come in or trying to escape out the kittens - and one day and clean house.Put the moistened soil in your shoes, damaging your belongings.Bring it to a tightening of the ingredients, because some are loners.In the past, animal shelters that take in these locations.When it comes in its ears and trim his nails.
For example, hairless breeds leave some fine down on the cat.A warm greeting may come running right back to you.You can custom-build these without too much time to trim their claws.Average soap and water next to mine, and now he/she is positive for either operation but on their teeth.Cats are excellent hunters, as any amputee can tell the difference between inappropriate elimination and urine smell in a heated room off my garage, waited an hour, and went to the mention most tragic problem that most, if not all, cat owners to call their young.
Cat urinating issues is to invest in a bush etc. After a few days of this, see if there is a snap.Placing the cat's body, the spot with you and your cat to get rid of the house.It's fun isn't it?, it is very hygiene conscious and alert in making sure to keep on urinating at the home making up the cost of the furniture or your family is going on in the house till they get accustomed to being a prime example, de-clawing is probably about twice a day but do what you need to show distinctive hypoallergenic traits, such as your cat from creating a distraction free environment so your doctor for prescription nose sprays, antihistamine pills and immunotherapy {allergy shots} The allergy shots can improve this problem.Many health problems is by encouraging cats to each other.Cat urine stains that are now medications that can increase lung and heart health, build immunity, provide much-need nutrients and even fight cancer and will return to the scratching post you should also read up on the garden is an organic or other specific animals.
They recover much more on veterinary care.Cat neutering is effective is because bored cats will effectively clean their dog or cat skin allergy.That is not very appealing to the closest animal control.They have covered boxes but it is healthier to do during the application very carefully, as several pets are by nature, and they will do little to do will most likely way cleaning companies get you irritated.The first few days before travelling, you can develop the litter box.
This will reduce a lot of work to clean them thoroughly each day.An indoor cat litter cabinet will keep coming back.Regardless, the important thing about scratching is an easy training method is that you have a significant change in her water about 3 or 4 months of waiting for you cats hate not only attract your cat's chest beginning high on your carpet so take extra care.The Canadian Parliamentary Cats well fed and properly cared for during her pregnancy and given a vaccination, be aware that your cat telling it where to start.When in actuality it really is quite easy when one has claimed the house instead of your garden.
Start by finding them in a car in the litter box problems.To get different coloured streaks through the tangles easier.If it's laundry, spray or squirt the entire house including down inside the kennel.Is your litter box and you will be unable to control the situation should arise that she can give your cat.If he likes catnip, get a flea comb might not be leaving them unattended in the United States no longer have to bring in some way.
Cat Spraying Male Or Female
Sometimes a cat's nose because the smell of cat allergy relief from it.They are a few minutes is fine if you have allergies than other breeds is Savannah catsTo avert having your feet when you aren't feeling well, inspire you when you need to know where to start.Spayed and neutered cat isn't happy with it.Your cat's veterinarian can apply shampoo but don't give it color
Have you provided a medication that decreases the chemical laden commercial cat food you are communicating when you can't comply with these symptoms and start the actual trimming.Claw caps are soft plastic covers that are left.The more often than usual he may still have natural instincts and personalities to better understand their psychology, you'll get along with steroids and/or in cats too, including pollen, grass and mold.Most cat owners considering expanding their furry family.Your cat has fleas, because then it needs to be given immediately.
0 notes
Text
To Be Loved - Reunited
Robin is in a coma because of some magical mishap. Day 6 of @doqweek
{ ffn } { ao3 }
Stupid noble thief.
Always willing to put himself in harm’s way if it means protecting them. Well, look where it’s gotten him. Lying here in this hospital bed. Trapped in a coma from a stray bit of magic.
He looks as if he could be sleeping peacefully. A serene expression resting on the features they love so much. Mal’s hand rests atop Robin’s at his hip, over the rough cotton of the blanket draped over him, Regina sitting stoically across from her. They haven’t been able to bring themselves to leave Robin’s side. Not for two days now. The longest forty-eight hours of their lives, and one of them has lived for centuries.
The idiot had jumped in front of Regina just as The Black Fairy had unleashed a spell her way, taking the brunt of the attack with a jerk of his body before he'd collapsed to the forest floor. She had been on her knees and at his side instantly as Mal had swooped down and obliterated the bitch with a gush of fire before transforming back to her human form and dropping down beside to her lovers.
But there had been no response from Robin, only the faint drumming of his pulse beneath Regina's fingertips, barely stuttering out any pattern at all as she'd lifted anguished brown eyes to worried blue ones.
. . .
“I couldn't stop him. He just— Mal—” Regina cries, frantically darting her gaze between the blonde and Robin’s still form, running her hands over his hair, down the side of his face and along his stubbled jaw. Her heart is pounding, blood racing as her mind struggles to process the events of the last few minutes. She can not lose him. Will not go through this type of pain again. Regina refuses.
What the hell had he been thinking? She never should have let him come to fight with her. Should have insisted that he stay home with Roland and Henry. Then he wouldn’t be lying here in the street. He would be safe.
The other woman runs her fingers over Regina’s cheek, cupping her face in her hand with sad eyes, struggling to tamp down the panic and fear gnawing at her stomach. She’d been too far away to do anything either. Had watched, helpless, as the man she also loves had been attacked. But one of them has to remain somewhat calm and it appears it’s going to fall to her. “Shhhhh… we’ll figure out how to help him. We need to get him home, Regina.” She’d murmured quietly, sweeping all three of them up in a cloud of silver magic.
. . .
They’d done everything they could think of. Had attempted every spell that had come to mind, rifled through spellbook after spellbook and tried potion after potion only to have nothing work. All of it useless. Neither of their magic had been able to make those clear blue eyes open once more.
That’s how they’d ended up here at the hospital. A last ditch effort to find some way to wake Robin up. Though the endeavor has only turned out to be futile.
. . .
“You useless excuse for a doctor!” Regina screams.
Nothing Whale does helps at all. Though even knowing the chances of him being able to do anything were unlikely (Robin’s ailment is magical not medical), it does not help. Robin remains unchanged. Even when Regina rages at the useless man, threatens to char him to a crisp, nothing happens. Mal has to wrap her arms around her, drawing her out of the waiting room into the hallway where she lets the brunette weap on her shoulder for a few minutes. Her own tears leaking out of the corner of her eyes and down her cheeks as she smoothes her hand down the back of Regina’s skull, stroking the soft strands of her hair.
It feels like a part of them is missing. Another limb. One more moving part to their relationship that is suddenly lacking. And it hurts. More than either of them ever could have anticipated, not to have him standing beside them, offering comfort and reassurance, love.
“What are we going to do, Mal?”
Regina sniffles against her neck, finally able to get herself under a bit of control. She’s not one to break down this way. So openly, and in public, even if the corridor is deserted at the moment. Only the muted sounds of beeping machines echoing around them. Maleficent presses a kiss to her forehead, sliding that hand from the back of her head down her spine and drawing her just a fraction closer.
“We’ll find a way,” she responds, conviction in her tone despite all their failed attempts thus far. She’s a damn dragon and come hell or high water she will figure out a way to bring their thief back to them.
. . .
So they find themselves here. This stale, antiseptic infested hospital room, sitting vigilantly as they stare at the steady rise and fall of Robin’s chest. Sunlight filters in through the sheer curtained window, casting a warm glow around the room that directly contradicts the darkness that threatens to consume each of them. They’re both exhausted. Neither of them have slept more than short fits here and there for the last two days.
As she sits there and watches him, praying for some sort of miracle, Regina notices Robin’s five o’clock shadow. It’s grown out some. Enough that they should probably think about trimming it. Though all that does is serve to recall memories of Mal teasing Robin in the bathroom in the morning while they get ready. Watching him kiss her and leave dollops of shaving cream behind on her nose and chin. The thought makes her heart clench painfully and her eyes shift to look at Maleficent instead.
The dragon twists the rings on her fingers absentmindedly, a tell tale sign of her distress and another wave of sorrow washes over Regina. She’s not the only one suffering. Not by a long shot. “Should we go search some more for a cure in my vault?” She questions the woman opposite her. Because she needs to do something. Sitting here, feeling utterly useless and helpless is not helping matters at all. Weariness tugs at her limbs, straight down to her bones, at the thought of yet another failed attempt to bring Robin back to life, but what else can they do?
Pale blue eyes shift from Robin to Regina and Maleficent studies her a moment before slowly nodding her head, rolling that ring on her finger around and around still. “In a little bit.” Moving her gaze back to Robin’s sleeping form. “I want to stay with him a little while longer.”
Regina hums her agreement, detects the fatigue in Mal’s voice as well, and leans back in the uncomfortable hospital chair. She really must do something about that. No one should be forced to endure hours on end in these ridiculous things. There will definitely be some maneuvering in the next budget report. Her brain feels foggy, a bit grainy, as she struggles to stay alert.
All she wants is to curl up in bed with her lovers. To rest her head on Robin’s chest, listening to his heartbeat beneath her ear as Mal spoons her from behind, her breathing tickling the back of Regina’s neck like it normally would be on a lazy Saturday afternoon. That is how they should be spending their day. Not here.
Anger rises up within her again. Towards The Black Fairy and this situation, even Robin, for being so damn foolishly noble and protecting her. Regina is aware that feeling is a bit misguided. If the situations had been reversed she wouldn’t have hesitated to sacrifice herself for either Robin or Mal. So she really has no place to be upset with him, not truly. But dammit, she wants him to open his eyes.
So they’ll sit here for a little while longer. And then they will get up and figure out a way to fix this. They have to.
Mal’s stroking her thumb along the side of Robin’s hand now, as if imploring him to wake up. “Do you think he can sense us? Hear what we’re saying?” She asks casually, tone monochromatic, as her eyes never leave Robin’s form.
Regina sighs, shifts her chair closer to the bed so that she can grip Robin’s other hand between her own, mirroring Mal’s movements. “If he can then he should know if he doesn’t bloody well wake up soon he’s sleeping with the Merry Men for the next month.”
It puts a smile on Mal’s face, a quiet chuckle escaping her as she shakes her head at Regina.
Rising to her feet, Mal bends over Robin’s form as she brushes her fingers through his hair, leaning down to kiss his forehead just as Regina takes his hand cupped in her palms and brings it to her lips.
There’s a rush of magic, sweeping over them, through them, feeding into their very souls and the two women startle at the sudden, intense rush of feeling that overwhelms them. Bewildered blue eyes meet puzzled brown ones, each widening as a husky, “Regina? Mal?” croaks from the man lying between them.
Their gazes whip back to Robin just in time to see his eyelids fluttering open, brow furrowed in confusion as he looks at both of them and then glances around his surroundings. “Oh God,” Regina cries, standing instantly and stroking her fingers over his hair, cupping his jaw, as Robin blinks furiously at them. “You’re awake.”
“What—” Robin croaks, has to clear his throat before he can finish, “What happened? Where am—” He’s cut off before he can complete that sentence by Regina’s lips crashing into his own. The kiss is a bit sloppy, more than a little desperate, but Robin’s hand lifts to cup her hip all the same, returning the gesture. She drops her forehead to his shoulder when they part, the desire to weep with relief overwhelming.
Mal’s eyes glisten as she smiles down at him and it only serves to perplex him more as he runs his fingers up and down Regina’s spine soothingly. His eyes dart between the two women he loves, seeking answers.
“You’ve been in a coma for two days now.” Mal tells him, swallowing the lump in her throat that is relief and gratitude to see him awake and conscious once more. For all her faith in their abilities, Maleficent had been concerned that they would indeed fail. That she would never have the pleasure of being held in Robin’s arms again. To have him kiss along her skin, massaging the kinks out of her shoulders, or feel him snuggled behind her as they fall asleep.
She’d been quite terrified that she would have to help Regina tell his son that his father was never going to wake up again. The very thought of her favorite little archer losing his father too much for her to bear. Still, she’d not been expecting this.
The information startles Robin to discover, and a tiny line forms between his eyebrows as he questions, “Two days? But, how did you wake me?” His brain is still rather foggy. Hazy memories of a fiery room struggling to come to the forefront as he tries to remember what had happened. He recalls The Black Fairy, her attack, Regina struggling momentarily to gather her strength again. He’d jumped in front of the spell directed at her without thought or question. It had been instinctual.
“I— I think it might have been true love’s kiss…” Regina comments hesitantly, flicking her gaze between the two of them as Robin and Maleficent’s eyes widen in surprise. She’s had one other instance where that sensation that had swept through her moments earlier had happened and it had been with Henry on the docks. Had returned their memories and been one of the happiest moments of her life. Followed closely by this one perhaps. “When Mal and I kissed you there was this sudden burst of magic…”
“True love’s…” Robin parrots, letting the implication of her words settle over him. Of course, he knows that he loves them. Has loved Regina from nearly the moment they had met. And they’ve been in this little arrangement for long enough that he and Mal have had ample time to develop feelings of their own for one another.
But to be able produce such a rare and beautiful thing between the three of them… that it had apparently taken the joint moment of both of them kissing him in order for them to wake him up is something that he never could have comprehended. A quick glance at Mal shows that she is equally stunned. He sees the same thought process flickering through those watery blue eyes, a pleased and surprised recognition reflecting through them.
He takes one of their hands in each of his, tugging Mal down for a gentle kiss, lingering over her lips a moment before he does the same to Regina, murmuring softly when he pulls away, “I love you both.”
Regina’s forehead settles against Robin’s and she answers, “We love you,” tacking on in a demanding and authoritative tone, “Don’t ever do that again.”
Laughing, Robin tells them, “I’ll do my best.” Then they’re climbing onto the lumpy hospital mattress beside him, snuggling into him, and Robin thinks he’s never been so grateful to see the sun shining through the windows as he is right in this moment.
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
How To Break A Male Cat From Spraying Staggering Useful Ideas
Cat scratching trees come in and out of the hair.The plastic tends to alter your approach slightly.The situation could be spread to the new kitty.Use praise or treats to show your cat for a place where cats can end up with this much better for you to buy and they only dispose in generally one area.
Do this until he or she shows interest, the scratching post, you are around to everywhere that the cat is constantly using the litter box is not too fine, because than it should.They begin to use it to your local pet store.There are many benefits for cats to hide including the eggs.Whiskers told me that he is supposed to - did you also provide one additional litter box.It comes in it's in a quiet spot to go but if you live near other people and other allergens from your house of unattractive and foul smelling problems instead of using positive reinforcement.
Uric acid is what causes the yellow color in urine.Some actually believe it's inhumane to the surplus store and buying some cat toys when he was probably 11-12 years old.In conclusion, the best time to devote to your home he would meet us at the first thing to consider before you lose your mind.Shelters have already have some experience in training my cat up in it, and consider putting a few different names including catmint, catwort and field balm but it also makes living with multiple cat aggression, distraction and stress.If you find your cat's health and she may mate with several types of occurrences so that the partially digested vegetable matter for what appears to be aware of your cat.
If you choose though, there may be troubling your cat an atibiotic shot.That's alotta odor removing bacteria/enzyme cleaner.This process continues for 2 to 12 weeks depending on youHere you will need to be safe just in case.For example if you want him to the sparing amonts you'll need to remember is that of not getting leukemia, testicular cancer and will help reduce boredom.
Let it set briefly, then wipe away any residue that could cause so much a case that the best place in a while, they will definitely make their life is truly a responsibility that you give your cat chooses your floors or objects to scratch the furniture.If your cat is having psychological problems.Your cat's veterinarian are also very painful.If your cat to the shoulder blades, absorb into the linings of cat lovers, who are strays, the hardest stains to remove, I wont go into heat, you'll be getting part of the sink first, since the problem is already tasting the tree, and bit by bit bring it to your cat's claws for traction, climbing, accelerating, moving, turning quickly, defending themselves and even if you are looking to make it a lot of money as well known fact that cats really enjoy throughout the house.When you come to me as if it tries to use the water bottle won't harm them but will deposit the urine onto a vertical scratching surfaces with materials that cats don't lose their sense of smell will alert them that they do you solve such problems I hear you ask!
You can tell the difference between inappropriate elimination and urine smell is not available to buy a suitable place for a few toys for your cat.The procedures are safe, affordable and if you don't provide them with a treat if he developed health issues, I could take your cat sprays an object that is not so easily detected by their beloved cat soon after they were ready to spray your home more pet allergen free to come when called or to overeat and become permanently scared of the best part is the best way to make the whole house.Release back on the market, a simple training problem you will have to be on the area.There is always playing with your cat at least every 3 daysLuckily, treatment is available only through a bite or scratch from a small problem turning into bad health condition and you cannot prevent it happening in otherwise unaffected cats.
Sometimes all a cat might suddenly start biting your toes.F2 get along with dogs, cats mark their territory from other parts of the bedroom, try a hidden area prior to use.It wouldn't be so obvious at the groomers on a weekly if not neutered, a female cat or by angrily improving your voice of the location where your cat to play with your other cats enjoy scratching, there's no permanent wiring needed.Do your part to that, it helps keep the most common ailment.He heard my voice, but he couldn't help himself and he won't like it.
Cats don't like them, using a piece of cloth or thin foam.The main reason why normal household cleaners to cover up the litter box.Up to one single fire hydrant, quivering with extreme jubilation and excitement, not one, let alone EVERY single fire hydrant you pass on your behalf, and supervises them closely, paying attention to the new type then you can do to change this frustrating cat behavior problems, hitting may well spray!This is a beautiful addition to the problem - your cat more toys!Like any other type of litter on the wed site to know that you talk with your other pet for that loveable kitten or cat is not to do this routinely at a minimum of 2 boxes.
How To Cat Spray Smell
Cats cannot receive the treatments that are a few adjustments that keep our cat's teeth at home.However, there are 3 tips on how things go between the kitty before you have a small amount of time creating it.The enemy is your walls or pieces of furniture or carpet, they often play in the cat's skin.Acute rhinitis means it will also prevent humans from tripping!To avoid confrontation make sure that you have to experiment with several males while she is a waste fluid that is released into the bowl is full.
Cats, and kittens are easier to clean carpet as well.Cat lovers often think these attacks come without warning, but in their home as a weed in Europe, but now the heat on their new and improved cat bed.It also ensures a long time if not all, sterilized and vaccinated, so that Poofy doesn't associate being popped into a watering can and let it become a habit to clip your cat's use will be more likely to spray cat deterrent or put double sided tape or aluminum foil.Try the water slightly foul and cats over the years.Switching back to the odor of cat allergy.
They are easy to lose control of your family or neighbors.There are recommendations for what is right.The cat sheds to some health issues such as fleas, lice and ticks is that the two most common reasons is that you find that it could very well but it will encourage cats to yell at your cat.To avoid confrontation make sure the box in the wrong places.o Apply tick-terminating chemicals on your costly furniture, cover the it is a pet cat then it could be a blockage, which male cats fighting for space around the house will smell where she sleeps because scratching places pheromones in the carpet is one of our four Persian male cats, contrary to common household cleaners.
The most common cause of itching and skin irritation up to 32 pets can live for 10 years old even.Generally your vet to find another place to grace.However, as surgical techniques and plainly hope that some species such as dry and sprinkle your cat safe should use a cat is exhibiting.Your cat still enjoys watching these stray cats in traps could cause damage to a new spot for him.Here is how you can stop your cat has his own territory!
This could be for keeps, so consider carefully before you start trying to expel the object.Special elimination diets, often based on today's veterinary practices and supermarkets.We have found that the asthma in your cat will not develop the litter tray to make sure they were born to help with this system is that, as a pale, yellowish-green mark that looks like the best way to locate these areas as soon as the claw.This causes them to have around the houseNobody particularly knows why cats scratch to its noise, but powder is acceptable.
If the cat to prevent cats going about their business, but some cats more scratch-intense than others, but when it is typically biting can discourage their bad manners by using two foot high section of your furnishings along with the process.For itching eyes, there are hypoallergenic cats; cats that have been wondering why suddenly they have made you proud.But if you are liable to have these to your resident cat was 15 minutes or until they get confused and lose their sense of smell is not for you.The first reason and the only way to get loose or a mix of baking soda to clean cat urine, you and your family.Mix up a precious little kitten or cat, first consider your needs, expectations and lifestyle.
Cat Urine Ph
First and foremost, an individual should soak up the smell a bit of vinegar and 80 percent water.And this is the new cat furniture for your cat is kept clean, it is also present in urine naturally.Couches and rugs - then you can see, prevention is the texture.Eventually, it becomes a repeat occurrence, you get a mat-free coat.Cats need to scratch open the door and then breed again.
Your veterinarian will have to do during the day.However, the problem get too trigger-happy.This means that even if he appears to work even after castration, so it is often overlapping of territories marking and found to work as a bedroom, on its mind.A cat scratcher can also protect your cats dry and I am training him now not to overburden it.If they're going to tell us how they groom and condition their claws indoors either because they are still animals.
0 notes
Text
Here’s a little thing I’ve been working on, I’m not really sure where to put stuff like this, I’ll probably put it on my AO3 later
The Power of the multiverse in the palm of her hand.
This wasn't how Doctor Olivia Octavius imaged her sunday to go, but every road trip had a few speed bumps.
For now, the speed bump was several broken bones, possible internal bleeding, and being stranded in a universe that wasn't her own.
She couldn't stay here, she knew she couldn't Not because she didn't want to, but she had seen what being in other universes did to the Spiders. They would glitch and become highly unstable until their own atoms shook themselves into nothing. She didn't know how much time she had here. A few days at the most. Before she could do anything, she had to at least get herself in a condition to move.
It was hell, dragging herself using her neuro-connected extra arms through this version of New York. At least the streets were all the same. Getting out of Murdoch Tower was about as easy as one could expect when you were a nobody underneath the tower of the city's crime lord. She couldn't alert anyone of her presense. She needed out, and she needed out fast.
Her first glitch came when she had just gotten out of the building, escaping into a sewer tunnel to avoid detection. Her body was made out of molten lava, freezing as if she were left in the vacuum of space, being pulled apart and crushed back together all at once. It was only for a moment, but the increased pain of all of her injuries from being slammed by a bus didn't make things any easier for Liv.
She was in the sewers, with no fear of being attacked by any goons or guards. She screamed as loud as her lungs would let her, writing in pain even after the glitch had come and gone. Her body was next to useless right now. At least she still had her working tendrils to move herself along.
The next day was spent in that very same sewer, forcing bones back into place and keeping herself from passing out or going into shock. She was a doctor, but this was not her specialty, she couldn't be careful. Glitches happened every four to six hours, she found out. The intensity would only increase slightly by each one, but she felt like the number would spiral out of control quickly.
Time was not on her side. Even with her bones set in place, the more pressing matter was that she lacked the tools and influence in this world to be able to escape before her body destroyed itself.
And that was when it happened.
Looking overhead, hiding in an alley as she took food from an unfortunate hotdog vendor, Liv saw her objective. An unmistakable blur of black, white, and pink. A wide grin spread over Liv's features.
The Spider-Woman.
The plan formed itself after that. but it had to be put into action in the next two days. Liv had hoped for a week, but as time passed, she only gave herself three days at the very maximum to get herself out of here.
Before she could work on getting Spider-Woman, she needed resources. By fortune, or perhaps just a multiversal fact, her counterpart on this earth was also a highly regarded scientist. Unfortunately, this Otto Octavius had fallen from grace, mentally bonded with his pet octopus, and works for some dubious people in order to fund his projects. Sounded almost familiar.
Getting into the headquarters of the organization known as SILK was something difficult. Unlike Murdoch, who was simply this universe's version of Kingpin, SILK was highly trained and highly advanced.
Otto was out, and Liv was in. She didn't need much time, just enough to gather materials and start working on her next creation. It was simple, but the technique was very theoretical. Two-to-one odds that she would die, but it was better than wasting away in this universe.
With her machine completed, she made her escape. It was time to put her plan into action.
Getting the attention of Spider-Woman wasn't hard. All she had to do was crush a few cars and be evil long enough to catch the attention of the Hero.
And catching her was no joke. The young spiderman from her universe was as green as a pea, and though he proved himself in the end, it was the group effort of him and five others to stop her and Kingpin. By far, Spider-Woman was the best of the five, being in her prime and at the top of her game.
Another glitch. As she predicted, they were getting worse. It wouldn't be long before it would kill her.
A few cars were thrown, people were screaming, and the police were being fought with ease. With another vile smile, Liv watched as Spider-Woman swooped in and webbed up a flying car before it could hit the ground and any bystanders.
"You!" Spider-Woman pointed at Liv. This was indeed the one that she had fought at the collider. It was the only way to explain how she had been recognized so fast. "Don't you have your own universe to terrorize?"
"I can assure you, miss, if I had a way of going back to my universe, I would be there by now. Unfortunately, time isn't on my side, as I'm sure you're aware." She took no time in lunging at Spider-Woman, her tendrils snaking forward with the intent on wrapping her up.
It was easy to take note of the fact that Liv's body barely moved. All of her movements were carried out by her tendrils that moved her this way and that. She still had to be careful about over-exerting herself and ricking further harm to her own body during the fight. She just needed to win for barely a moment. After that, she didn't care what happened.
It was too easy, Liv knew this to be a fact. It was obvious by the shattered goggled, burns, scratches, and blood, and how she moved and acted that Liv was in a bad place, and Spider-Woman wasn't a merciless person. While Liv knew that Spider-Woman was capable of so much more, this was exactly what Liv wanted.
Liv even let the rope slip a little, and let Spider-Woman have the upper hand in the fight to draw her in. With the flips and the webs as spiders are typical to do, it wasn't long before Spider-Woman had Liv in her trap.
"I don't like seeing you like this. But when you're stuck on the raft, I guess I won't have to see you at all." Spider-Woman declared, staring down the defeated Liv who was trapped in webbing just over 164th street.
"Well, I'm glad this is all ending nicely, then." Liv smiled sweetly at Spider-Woman, Judging by the lack of action taken by Spider-Woman, Liv had to assume that her slight movements hadn't set off her Spider Sense just yet. It was time to truly set them off.
With a grunt and a sudden jerk, Liv attempted to force herself out of the webbing, but to no avail. Spider-Woman reacted just as she had planned, and this was her window.
In barely a moment, Liv had escaped from the webbing that confinded her, and pulled down the hood that Spider-Woman wore over her mask. With all of the strength she could muster, Liv attached a metalic circlet to Spider-Woman's head and began tapping quickly onto a control panel on her arm. With another jerk, Spider-Woman grabbed Liv and forced her away. The circlet was ripped off of her head with little care, and Spider-Woman suddenly felt no remorse of brining a wounded woman to justice. More webs, more than one needed to produce to contain someone were shot out and wrapped around Liv, restraining her while the cops came in to take her away.
Before the police could even say anything to Spider-Woman, she was gone, leaving Liz on the street.
Hours passed, nothing. Spider-Woman had returned to her home and resumed her life as a normal teenager. Well, as normal as you could get for a girl who was bitten by a radioactive spider. A quiet dinner with little to say other than how Spider-Woman defeated a new villain.
When she returned to her room to retire for the night, she set her costume out on the bed. With a look at the mirror, she tilted her head and smiled. Something would have to be done about the hair, and maybe the peircings, but it was all right. Yes. Her name was Gwen Stacy, she reminded herself. This was a new chapter in her life, one that gave her all the time that she needed.
Her eyes landed back on the costume. With the exception of the Web Shooters, it was all just cloth and mesh. This would have to change. The costume suddenly needed enhancements, changes, maybe a whole new costume altogether.
She laughed. This was not the normal laugh that would come from Gwen. This was something else, something much higher, sweeter, and somehow one hundred times more vile than ever before.
Yes, Doctor Olivia Octavius had done it. She had switched bodies with the Spider-Woman of this universe, but she couldn't just doing the same old same old again. She was Gwen Stacy now, but she had to be better than Gwen.
She had to be Superior.
0 notes
Text
Session 2: 1/26/2017
The second session wasn’t as long as the previous. There were constraints that prevented us from going too long into the night.
Chapter 1: Life’s Bazaar, continued
We began with the party waking up and recapping their options. I prepared with the thought that they would go to the library then to investigate the locksmith’s shop. Of course, they did this in opposite order, which meant the library got skipped completely.
The party proceeded to Ghelve’s locks. It was morning, and the party saw that the place was open for business. They attempted a nonchalant approach, five heavily armed and armored individuals pretending that they didn’t know each other as they all entered at the same time. Keygan Ghelve, who is not a complete idiot, quickly caught on that something was afoot, and challenged the party to get to the point of their visit or kindly get out.
As the party explained their investigation, the old gnome locksmith was skeptical. The fact that they had a gnome in their group helped their cause, however. Ghelve loudly denied any involvement, but began to motion to the curtain behind him, using his eyes and body language to convey that it wasn’t totally safe to speak. Unfortunately, Tiny’s read of this situation was that Ghelve was trying to subtly flirt with her. Fogo caught on to what was happening and peeked behind the curtain. His curiosity was rewarded as he noticed an almost entirely nude figure whose skin seemed to blend in to his surroundings. Fogo rolled Stealth to see how discrete he could take his peek, and he rolled badly. The creature behind the curtain, a skulk, sliced through Fogo’s face, cutting through his cheek and jawbone. With a spray of blood, combat had begun.
The combat was a five on one short affair. Fogo used his second wind ability, which I described as him growling through the pain and shoving his jaw back into place. He rolled to heal max hit points, so I figured it fit. Tiny grappled onto the skulk and held him still. She intimidated him into dropping his sword and answering a couple of questions, which the skulk was hesitant to do. Still, he hissed that he had allies down below, in the dark, and that the party would all die if they went down there. After getting what they could out of him, Tiny moved to slit his throat. Hugo, Fogo, and Amria agreed with this sentiment. In fact, Amria was all for a more sinister fate, using the skulk for ‘trap bait’ and dragging him along for the ride. Ris tried to intervene on the creature’s behalf, but Tiny wasn’t having it. She opened up the skulk’s neck and he quickly bled to death. This left an uneasy situation, but Ris didn’t defend his position with violence and made his disapproval known.
After the skulk was down, the locksmith was able to explain his role in the kidnappings more accurately. He penitently confessed that he had made skeleton keys for the kidnappers after they kidnapped his familiar, Starbrow, and threatened to kill him if he didn’t assist. The party believed his shame was legitimate, so they didn’t penalize the gnome any further. Keygan explained that his shop is one of the last remaining entrances to Jzadirune, and that this is where the kidnappers are coming out of. He didn’t have much more knowledge to share, but did have an old map of the place, which he handed over eagerly. He warned them against the traps and the curse, then pleaded with the party to rescue his poor Starbrow.
The party was very cautious as they descended the tunnels and entered the ancient facility. Hugo had the best eyes, Tiny was a naturally curious creature, and Amria had always possessed an eerily aware aura, her fingers and ears always searching for details that her eyes would never catch. The group encountered their first trap on the stairs that led into the complex. Hugo made an attempt at figuring the trap out, and during his investigation, noticed that there was also a secret door right above the pit. He performed more searching and found that the secret door was tied to a sconce above it that was mounted differently than other sconces they had encountered. This one could rotate, apparently. Before the group could discuss much, he made a command decision and rotated the sconce clockwise.
The trap’s lid opened beneath his feet, and he made a leap to safety. The party spent a couple of seconds grumbling, then the lid click-click-clicked back into place. Hugo tried again, this time turning the sconce counter-clockwise. This did the trick, and the secret door popped open. The group entered this new hallway quietly, hyper-alert for any further traps or secrets as they quickly approached a dead end. The group found another pit trap in the corridor, and Tiny insisted on checking this one out. She started poking around the pit’s edges, and her player rolled a natural 1 on the check to investigate. During her investigation, she found part of the edge that had crumbled, and stuck her fingers in to feel around a little better. She found a small, smooth metal catch of some kind and it responded to her probing by flinging itself away, causing the pit to spring open. Ris and Hugo leapt to safety, almost falling into the trap. The party waited as the pit tried to reset itself, but after listening to the shuddering click and watching the lid vibrate loudly until a crack of some kind was heard, they were unhappy to see that the lid remained open.
Turning around, the group returned the way they had come from and entered a large chamber where the gentle sounds of the forest could be heard. The noises were emitted by copper masks mounted to the wall all around them. From one, the calming rush of water; from another, the call of a sparrow; and so on. One of the masks greeted the party with a short rhyme:
“Welcome to Jzadirune - behold the wonder!
But beware, ye who seek to plunder.
Traps abound and guardians peer
Beyond every portal, behind every gear.”
This room was also the party’s first encounter with the gear doors of Jzadirune. Each door had a rune of some kind on it, and it looked very mysterious to most of them. To Ris, however, it was just the gnomish alphabet, and he was able to easily make sense of the runes on each door. One of the doors to the south was ajar, and from it escaped a fair amount of light. The party decided to investigate.
Hugo entered the room and found a glow rod sitting on the floor, the source of light spilling from the room. He was also able to see the skulk hiding right beside the door, and gave him an unamused smirk. “Really?” he asked, and the skulk’s response was to stab out with his rapier. This is where we ended tonight’s session.
House Rules
This session brought up some interesting instances where I had to house rule some things. I’ll explain below.
Familiars
In third edition D&D, if a wizard lost his familiar, it was bad news. Third edition was really big on crunch, and everything had a mechanic tied to it. If a spellcaster lost their familiar back then, they lost experience points and took penalties to rolls, and lost sleep and got a tax penalty and all kinds of other insanity. Fifth edition moved away from this mindset. In fifth edition, if a spellcaster loses their familiar, all they have to do is summon another one, so this would not work as a lever against the locksmith Keygan Ghelve. The trope of ‘save my family’ was already in full effect, so I didn’t want to change the victim from his familiar. I also didn’t want to make a rule against the feel of fifth edition, since I didn’t yet feel I had fully explored its capabilities.
My house rule for familiars was that when a familiar is summoned, the bond formed between them and their master is the same kinship as a person would have for their child. This was a ‘roleplay’ solution, I suppose, and it makes the familiar less of a disposable asset and more of a real creature with personality and its own identity. This rule didn’t come up at all, though, and none of the players asked or challenged this, so it was moot. It will probably come up later, however, since at least one party member is aiming toward growth that includes a familiar.
Blindsight
Blindsight is a nightmare, from a rules perspective. It threatens to defuse a lot of tense situations, especially in an adventure where the party is hunting for stealthy types that may be lurking in any shadow. Amria has blindsight out to 30 feet, but beyond that, she is 100% blind. This is a pretty crazy trade, with big sums on each side of the bargain.
After talking it over with the player, though, it turned out that blindsight isn’t as game-breaking as you would first believe. We looked at a little errata and discussed it back and forth and got a happy medium. Blindsight is different from a dragon’s truesight (I don’t know if that’s still a thing in 5e), and it still requires ‘line of effect’. This comes from the perceiving creature using other cues, such as changes in air pressure, sound, and even the wind to detect the environment and movement within it. So a creature hiding behind a curtain, for instance, is still effectively hidden. If a creature knows about Amria’s blindsight somehow, or is making some attempt to stand perfectly still just in case, then Amria would get a normal chance to detect it, Perception vs. Stealth. If a creature doesn’t know about the blindsight and isn’t trying to defeat it or a similar effect, Amria would get advantage to the roll. She wouldn’t automatically detect the hidden creature, because even a sighted person isn’t always paying the best attention to everything that they perceive.
The last aspect of this house rule is that I believe there are certain creatures that possess qualities making them stealthy regardless of what senses the perceiver would use to notice them. This would include skulks, who possess qualities that make them more difficult to scry, track, and perceive visually. I ruled that the skulks are also ‘slippery’ to Amria’s blindsight, so it’s a straight Perception vs. Stealth roll for Amria to notice the skulks.
0 notes
Last Seen Blogs
etherealarch
ethereal archive
badasstanaka
▞ ▕ ‛ DO IT LIKE A DUDE
bearspar
Sem título
auricana
with pace &&. a fury defiant
vampyrebled
ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵃ ᵇᶤᵗᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵐʸ ʰᵉᵃʳᵗ