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#they can’t reattach to their world enough to allow anyone to leave
little-pondhead · 1 year
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After Danny is crowned Ghost King, Amity Park becomes detached from the mortal realm and is suspended between the two realms, much like Danny is. In an effort to combat this isolation from the rest of the world, Danny opens up his castle to the residents of Amity. (Not his Lair, just the castle he earned via conquest.)
Now the castle is more like a community center, and it’s constantly filled with both humans and ghosts coming and going. The Amity Parkers are already liminal, so visiting the Zone is actually healthy for them! The school takes the kids on regular field trips, ghost vs. human competitions get very heated, and overall everyone bonds over their shared freakiness and comes to terms with the fact they’ll never venture out into their world ever again.
But just because they’re detached from their world, doesn’t mean the residents of Amity can’t visit other worlds. :)
And it just so happens that their new community castle is filled to the brim with magic doors and ancient treasures to help aid on their noble quest of inter-dimensional grocery shopping.
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spikesbimbo · 3 years
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Picnic Date
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Pairing: Shugo Meian x Reader
Tags: Picnic date with a side of head, fluff, babymaking breeding kink, daddy kink, nipple sucking, oral sex, handjob, outdoor/public sex, mating press
Summary: Your titties look a little too good to be kept in that dress.
Word Count: 1.7k
a/n: i tried looking up his bio to get a better idea of his personality but there's nothing. I def think hes a gemini sun and/or mars
-And also i do not support zoos and aquariums, i just can't think of where else people would go on a date☠️
18+ Minors DNI
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You laid on the blanket, your head in his lap a little buzzed from the champagne you drank earlier, giggling with that soft smile of yours, him stroking your hair out of your face watching the cute little kids run around.
Going out with your fiance was a regular occurance, you’ve pretty much been (fucked) everywhere in the city with him. He loved to express his feelings for you by taking you on spontaneous dates; whether it be the beach in the middle of the night, the club, aquarium, and any new food place that opened up, loving watching you eat.
“Aren't they cute?” He said referring to the toddler pushing his baby brother on the swing. You already knew where this was going, yes you've daydreamed about starting a family together, but having a 6' 5., 200lb man's babies was a nightmare for your body. But that was overshadowed but the sincere look he had on his face watching them play, not to mention you were ovulating right now making your baby fever rise.
“Yeah” you shyly mumble, hoping he doesn't notice the blood rushing to your face, spoiler he does. 
You try to take your mind off of that, feeding him the sliced up watermelon, keeping all the strawberries to yourself. His lips lingering on your sticky fingers. You loved babying him, yes he was a grown, strong ass man, but the second he was in your arms he melted, finding comfort in you.
“Your shoulders are stiff baby” you said, noticing it after leaning on them for hours “You want a massage?” you asked, fluttering your eyelashes up at him, already knowing the answer taking matters into your own hands.
“Yeah doll, whatever you want.” he said, giving you the go. You work your hands over his shoulders down his back, your boobs pushing against him, making him grow in his pants. You were just trying to have a cute date, but the way your body looked in that sundress was killing him. The thin straps leading down to the v-neck exposing your cleavage. The loose cotton material hugging your hips perfectly, stopping below your knees. Fuck you were pretty.
The tree behind you covered you two just enough, the park was empty enough now as it was now dinner time and all the families went home. 
He thinks for a second, it not being the first time you two have fucked in public, the last time being in the locker room. All worries leave him as he grabs your neck pulling you in for a kiss, falling in his lap. His lips were warm and soft, parting slightly, allowing your tongue to slip inside tasting the sweetness of the fruit.
He kisses down your neck, stopping at your collarbone and pulls your top to the side freeing your breast. “Meian”  You moaned, the feeling of being exposed making you twitch.
His mouth wrapped around your nipple, sucking greedily, gripping his hair pushing him into you more. Your tits feeling sensitive and sore, him latching his mouth onto you. He was so grateful for you being in his life, letting him use you as he needed. Him showing his love by giving you your every want and need.
You looked around making sure no one was here, the embarrassment of Hinata walking in on you two while he was balls deep in you in the locker room making cringe at the thought, but who were you to deny your fiance as sweet as he was? 
You reach down palming his crotch until he was hard. Your fingers sliding slowly down not wanting to leave, unzipping his pants bringing his boxers down, precum staining the fabric pulling it down enough to uncover his cock. 
You wanted to be his good girl, he was always so good to you. He’d never tell you no, whether it was wanting him to get you something or wanting to ride him in the middle of the night, he never told you no.
“nghh daddy” you whined, him finally giving you a break from abusing your tits. He tightly wrapped his other hand around your waist leaving an imprint, dragging you closer to him.
“You're so good to me angel.” He whispered, making you shudder. His low voice stirring something inside of you.
“Really daddy?” You asked, hoping to get confirmation that you were doing a good job, grabbing his balls underneath you.
“Fuck baby” he said, thrusting his hips, you squeezing his balls a little harder. He looked at you with heavy eyes, pleading for you to touch his throbbing cock.
You took him in your hand, wrapping your fingers around his shaft the best you could, stroking him slowly looking up to meet his eyes to see if you were doing a good job.
He looks at you grabbing your thigh to stabilize himself and reattaching himself to you tits, you made him feel like he was in heaven, what's better than getting played with by a pretty girl with her tits in his mouth.
“Fuck princess im close. You gonna let me cum in that little mouth of yours?” you don't respond, just moving your head down to be face to face with his cock stroking your hand faster, opening your mouth for whenever he was ready.
“Fuck y/n” he groaned, his voice crackling at his release. His cock still so sensitive in your hands. His cum dripping down your lips, you not being able to swallow it all.
“Clean it up” He said, referring to the mess in his lap. You quickly moved your mouth to his length kissing the tip, some cum still on it as you worked your way down. His hand grips your hair as you wrap your lips around him.
 A throaty groan escapes and he rolls eyes back. He thrusts into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat making you gag and your eyes water, but you don't get off, still keeping him in your mouth.
You move your head up and down moaning at the feeling, wanting to reach down and relieve yourself but knowing he wouldn't allow it. Your eyes water this time not because you're choking but because you're needy, wanting to be touched also. 
Your eyes flicker up and see him staring at you with his eyes drowning you in lust. His dark locks stuck to his forehead. His cheeks red with want as his breath quickens.
“Baby, fuck. I'm close”
You bob your head faster, hoping to push him over the edge sooner, your jaw hurting with each motion. His hand is wrapped in your hair again and you can feel his voice get strained and deeper letting you know he was about to cum again.
He doesnt pull out when he spills, his cock sitting in the back of your throat. You swallow his cum for the second time today. Him finally taking it out, looking at your disheveled appearance, wondering how you were so beautiful while looking like a mess.
“Cmere baby” he said dragging you in for a kiss, lifting your dress up enough to feel your drenched panties, not giving a fuck if anyone saw with the sun still out.
You loved his cock so much, borderline worshipping it. It filled you in all the right places, stretching your little cunny out while hitting your g spot, him being the only one that could ever make you feel this way.
“Daddy” you moaned. “ I need it daddy. Please” You whined out as he laid you on your back, hand behind your head making sure you didn't hurt yourself. 
He parted your legs sliding your panties off, your body beneath him, your soft tits slipping out of your dress, your soaked pussy on display for him. Fuck he was in love. 
“Hold on angel” he said, adjusting himself with your entrance, staying in this position so he could see your pretty face.
 “You're such a good girl.” he said, slowly sliding his cock in against your whimpers. “Pretty girl, taking a cock too big for you” he continued, you grabbing his arms, leaving indents from your nails.
 “Look at you, i haven't even bottomed out yet and you've already made a mess” he teased, putting your legs on his shoulders, stroking your cheek.
 “Uhhngh please” you cried trying to hold on as he finally settled into you and started thrusting 
 “Meian please” you said not knowing what you were begging for. 
 “Hmm” he froze, stopping his movement.
 “s-sorry daddy” you realized correcting yourself.  “sorry please... please”
 “Guess I’ll just have to pull out then” he said slowly taking his cock out looking at your teary eyes all distraught
 “No! Dont pull out. Daddy pleaseee, no, please please... nghhah” you cried out like the world was gonna end if he didnt fuck you.
“Hmm? You want me to cum in you? You want my babies?” he teased, getting off on the fact that he knew you got turned by the thought of having his kids. The embarrassment appearing on your face, highly aware of your needs, you turned your face away looking at the grass beside you.
 “Hmm? u gonna be my good girl?” He said cupping your jaw to look at him.
 “Yes daddy” you said reaching your arms out trying to grab him in for a kiss.
 “Nope only good girls get to kiss daddy”
“Nooo daddy please!” You cried again, needing his touch.
 “U gonna let me stuff you full?”
 “Yea-ah” you said pulling your legs back exposing your sloppy cunt, needing him to be in you again.
 “There’s my good girl” he praised leaning down into you, thrusting in you getting harder each time. 
 “D-daddy m’gonna make a mess” You cried coming closer to your orgasm. You feeling him batter your cervix and g spot at the same time making your tummy burn and seeing white.
 “You are sweet girl? Go ahead. Do it.” He cooed, encouraging you to let go. You listened and quickly came, clenching around him making him follow soon after.
 He brought you up against him, his still being in you whispering sweet praise while stroking your head. You feel so content in his arms, enough to fall asleep, but unfortunately you two had to walk home as the sun was setting.
 “Love you meian” You said, snuggling in him yawning
“Love you too angel” he replied, kissing your forehead as you two watched the sun set in the distance, trying you best to stay awake. The both of you never being as happy as you were together.
<3
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© all content belongs to spikesbimbo. do not alter or repost .
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imasimpforshanks · 3 years
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Heyyyyyy hiiiiii hope your having an awesome day drinking that water getting hydrated 😗. I was wondering if you could do a Law Angst alphabet please. But only if you feel up to it and have time. If you don’t feel free to ignore or do it later here now have a cookie 🍪 because your awesome 😊
Angst Alphabet - Trafalgar Law
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a/n: HI HI!!! thank you for your kind words!! I hope you are looking after yourself <333 here is the law angst! Please enjoy 🥰
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A-Accident (would they blame themselves if you died in an accident?)
He would only blame himself if any of his actions led to the accident that caused your death (we’ve seen him blame himself for that very reason about Rosinantes death). If his actions weren’t directly correlated to your death in any way then he would not blame himself, though he would kick himself for not being able to help you in time. Other than that, Law is painfully aware of the harsh reality that is life.
B-Break up (How would they break up with you?)
Law would break up with you in a seemingly emotionless way. He’d mask his true feelings, while telling you a whole bunch of excuses why the two of you could no longer be together. He doesn’t believe any of them, but he’s got to do what he’s got to do.
C-Crying (how would they make you cry?)
I feel like I’ve used this one in a few other character alphabets but it really applies to Law too. He would cause you to stress and panic so much over his health and wellbeing. He’s a literal doctor. He should know to take better care of himself, but he just doesn’t seem to care about himself the same way you do. So it isn’t until you’re crying in front of him, spilling your heart out about how concerned you are for his safety that he realizes his health is important to more than just himself.
D-Death (how would they react to your death?)
My god, if Law was to lose another person that he loved, he literally would never want to let himself get close to anyone ever again. Your death would be it for Law. He’d basically be on the verge of giving up himself. What other reason does he have to go on.
E-Emotion (what is one emotion they would try to hide the most and how would they do it?)
He tries to hide every emotion. Law doesn’t like to be too open, out of fear of people using it against him or it simply being too much of a sign of weakness. So, very rarely does he let his emotions show. He also tries to divert attention away from himself in hopes that people won’t focus on him or his emotions for too long.
F-Fight (do you two ever fight? How big are the fights? What do you fight about? Etc.)
This was covered in his fluff alphabet! But here it is again:
Your fights tend to be pretty short lived resulting in forgiveness and apologies from both sides relatively quickly. He really doesn’t like to stay mad at you for too long – he’d much rather have you two on the same page.
Most fights are caused by stress and concerns of health and safety, so Law does a lot of eye rolling and using his title as a ‘doctor’ as justification that he knows what he’s doing so you just need to chill – but like I said these fights are very short lived.
G-Guilt (what is the biggest thing they feel guilty about?)
Law will never forgive himself for Rosinantes death. He will forever feel responsible for his death – it was all his fault. If only he hadn’t given that note to Vergo, then Rosinante would still be alive. He died because of Law’s incompetence (at least that’s what he tells himself).
H-Heartbreak (what would cause them pain in the relationship? How would they deal during a break-up?)
During a break-up Law would act pretty normal. He wouldn’t behave any differently until he’s left alone. Only then would he let himself go and truly feel that heartbreak.
I-Injured (how would they react if you are badly injured?)
Thanks to the doctor in him, Law is able to remain calm. He can keep his composure until he administers whatever treatment necessary. That’s not to say he isn’t worried though. He’s just capable of focusing on the injury right in front of him.
Only once he is certain that you are stable does he (or potentially his crew) go and hunt down the cause of your beating.
J-Jealousy (what do they do if they are jealous?)
When Law does get jealous (which is rarely), he gets quiet. His fists clench a little more, and his frown deepens. He also speaks less than usual (which is already pretty hard to beat). He only gives you short snippy replies until he eventually gets over it.
K-Kill (would they kill for revenge?)
Law would kill for revenge, yes. He literally wanted to kill Doflamingo as revenge for Rosinante. However, it was in Law’s plan that Kaido would be the one to kill Doflamingo (after they fought) – so I believe that is how he’d kill for revenge as well. He would devise a fool proof plan (okay maybe not fool proof, bc if the straw hats are involved who knows what could go wrong).
In short, yes. Law would kill for revenge.
L-Loss (what is their greatest loss?)
This poor man has suffered so much loss in his life that it’s actually really difficult to choose which would be his greatest loss. He lost his entire family as a young boy while also having a shortened lifespan himself. Losing his family, and the realization that he only had a few more years to live, really made him lose his will to live a good remainder of his life. Young Law literally became a pirate.
However, he did meet Rosinante (Corazon) and he gave him another reason to live. Furthermore, Rosinante actively sought out a cure for Law so that he could continue to live a long life. Basically, Rosinante became a father figure/older brother to Law. So, losing him – another ¬person he loved so dearly – would have been beyond devastating.
M-Mistake (what is the worst mistake they ever made with you?)
There was one day where he spent the entire day ignoring you. It was completely unintentional. His mind was swarming with plans and all this other information that has just come in. He got so immersed in it that he didn’t talk to you or tell you what was going on for a whole day.
N-Nightmares (how often do they have them? What are they about? How do they deal with it?)
Nightmares are one of the many reasons Law hardly ever sleeps. He’s haunted by his family’s and Rosinantes deaths. His nightmares get particularly bad around the same time each year (that is, around the time of year that they died). He wakes up trembling and on the verge of tears (but he never lets them fall). Instead of even trying to go back to sleep, he’ll make himself a nice hot cup of coffee and immerse himself in a book or work of some kind – anything to avoid going back to sleep and risking a re-run of that horrible nightmare.
O-Outrage (how and why would they get mad at you?)
Sometimes his exhaustion catches up to him and other times its all the stress building up that finally he snaps and all the emotions are too overwhelming that he just directs it to the nearest outlet, which just so happens to be you.
P-Past (what has happened in your relationship that changed the way you saw each other?)
You walked in on him absolutely breaking down over Rosinante. One evening Law retreated to his room while you and the rest of the crew were eating and drinking. He didn’t think you had noticed him leave, but soon you were following after him. You opened the door and found him breaking down in the middle of the room. You completely forgot that it was the anniversary of Rosinantes death. It was the first time you had seen him this distraught and it broke your heart.
It really cemented into your brain that no matter how tough he may look, he still suffers (probably more so than anyone). But, you were also grateful that you were able to see him like that, as it allowed him to start relying on you a little more.
Q-Quality (what is their most dangerous/toxic quality?)
His inability to openly express his emotions. Sure, now he will share with you how he is feeling, but that is with you and ONLY you. He still insists on keeping everything else bottle away from the rest of the world which is a really unhealthy way to deal with things. It’s not that you dislike being there for him, in fact, you appreciate how trusting he is with you. It’s just, what if there comes a time where you aren’t around and he’s in desperate need of someone to confide in?
R-Rejection (how would they react to you rejecting their confession (or the other way around)).
Law would wait until he was 100% certain you returned his feelings to confess to you. So, if you were to reject his confession he would be really confused for a while. He’d let it go because well, everyone has their own reasons – its not his place to tell you how you feel. All he can do is tell you how he feels and then the rest is up to you.
S-Scars (battle or self-inflicted)
He has no self-inflicted scars, and to my knowledge he has no battle scars either. But, his arm did get cut off and then reattached during the Dressrosa arc, so it actually is likely that there is a remaining scar from that (although I’m not certain).
T-Trust (have they ever broken your trust?)
Nope not at all. In fact, the only instance in which he would possibly break your trust, or lie to you, about is when he went to Punk Hazard and sent his crew to Zou. Some would assume that he wouldn’t tell you his plan out of fear of your safety, but that’s not true. He had to tell you. You taught him to be open and honest, and to trust. So that’s exactly what he did.
U-Urge (how badly do they want to see you after you guys separated?)
Law has gotten so comfortable around you that whenever you aren’t there, he gets unbearably anxious. Your presence is soothing, even if he can’t see you, even if he can only hear your voice echoing throughout the Polar Tang, it’s enough to put his mind at ease. So, if you are separated for a while… oh boy does he want to see you badly.
V-Vicious (what do they do when they lash out on you?)
He tends to yell at you. He tells you to “piss off” and that “you’re only being a nuisance right now”, despite you only wanting to help him.
W-Weak (what makes them feel weak how do they try to avoid it?)
Not being able to control things makes Law feel really weak. Weak may not be the right word, but it definitely makes him feel unprepared. He doesn’t like when things are out of his control and he can’t account for things. Which is usually why he always does extensive research and preparation before constructing a well thought out plan.
X-X-ray (what do they hate and show it most obviously?)
Well, I mean other than his obvious hatred of bread, Law also really hates when he works extremely hard on formulating a plan only for it to be completely thrown out of the window by a reckless straw hat wearing captain and his entire crew. (and somehow everything still ends up working out!!! That is the part that frustrates Law the most HAHAH).
Y-Yearn (what is one thing that they want but can’t have?)
One of the only things he’s ever really wanted was for Doflamingo to be taken down. He’s been partially successful in that sense, seeing as Doflamingo is in prison now. However, he wants more than that. He wants Doflamingo to suffer the same way he has.
Z-Zero (what do they do/say in your dying moments?)
It may seem a little out of character but… I believe Law would be borderline desperate/inconsolable. There would be a lot of clinging on to you, begging you not to leave him like everyone else he’s ever loved. He can’t handle another person leaving him, it’s too much. It’s far too much.
He wouldn’t cry (just yet), but his voice would tremble, and his hands would be shaking. His mind would be racing with all sorts of theories and possible ways he could save you. How could he possibly prevent the inevitable?
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tsumtsumland · 3 years
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“I Want You”| Kuroo Tetsuro x Reader
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genre: smut, a smidgen of angst
wc: 2.3k
warnings: mxf sex, unprotected sex, all the smut *shrug*
He had his eyes on you from the moment you walked into the club earlier tonight. Kuroo rarely felt anything anymore, he was mostly detached from most people and things, it wasn’t his world anymore…without you.
He was more than a little surprised to say the least when the hairs on the back of his neck rose and forced him to turn around as you walked into the building. Seeing you shocked him to the core and brought back feelings he never thought he’d experience again, and it made him angry.
The feeling of being inexplicably drawn to someone is what got him into trouble in the first place. Though it didn’t matter anymore, he was inevitably stuck here. He had a lot of questions, but after seeing the way you looked at him, and hearing your thoughts, he came to some realizations of his own.
You no longer knew him, he was aware of this but it still left a bitter taste in his mouth to have it confirmed so he stayed away, watching as you got drunker and drunker by yourself.
He`d noticed another man making his way to you and decided to step in anyway, unable to stand the thought of anyone else touching you. You were his once before, he had told you that you’d always be his, even if you couldn’t remember it. He meant it.
You release your bottom lip from between your teeth, leaving it bruised and plump. Your tongue sticks out to run over the abused skin and you watch as the man’s eyes follow the motions of your appendage.
“I can help you with that,” he mutters, and you aren’t sure when he even got that close but you don’t have the time to think as his lips collide with yours in a heated kiss.
Your hands instantly went to his hair, you’d thought about running your fingers through it since the moment you saw him and you weren’t about to pass up the opportunity now. It was soft and silky despite the way it looked, and the thought of messing it up more made you feel even hotter. His hands were on your hips now, and you were already sitting so close on separate barstools that it took him very little effort to shift you onto his lap.
His kisses were intoxicating and made you feel dizzy. His tongue coaxes your lips open for him and soon there is a battle for dominance between the both of you. You aren`t sure how no one had reprimanded you two for public indecency yet but you didn’t even care. You were too caught up in his unique taste and scent. Rich and malty with a sweet aftertaste, expensive aged whiskey, blended with the smell of a smoky, warm, woodsy smell, a dangerous mixture that felt achingly familiar to you. Almost like you’d experienced it before.
You ignore the tugging in your chest and focus on the fire that spread through the rest of you with every touch of his fingers, as they move from your hips up your sides and back down. You shift yourself a little on his lap and pull back from the kiss with a grin when you heard him practically hiss and clamp down on your sides.
You take a quick glance at your surroundings and noticed that it was dark enough, and everyone in close range was either drunk or occupied. You looked back at him and saw the desire clouding his eyes, you knew he was trying hard to stay in control from the bruising grip he had on your hips. You shifted again in his lap feeling his erection painfully hard, and angled yourself so that you were straddling him, before reattaching your lips to his.
Your hands move down his chest and abs before making it to his belt buckle and swiftly undoing it and unbuttoning his pants. You kept the kiss going whilst sliding his zipper down and slipping your hand inside his boxers gripping his cock.
In the same motion, he bites down on your lip and the tangy, coppery taste of blood invades your mouth. He licks at the spot quickly and it ceases. Your hand proceeds to tease him and move slowly over his cock in your palm. You could finish him off right there, and something about the thrill of getting caught makes you want him even more, but after a minute or two, one of his hands comes down over yours and halts your movement.
You pull back from the kiss and look at him questioningly. Isn’t this what he wanted? He didn’t seem like the one to be shy.
“Not here,” he told you, his voice huskier than before.
He quickly fixes his clothes and drags you after him down a long hallway at the side of the bar that you didn’t notice before. Your heart is beating a mile a minute and your body still feels hot everywhere. This is the most reckless thing you’ve ever done in your life. The entire night, now that you think about it, was completely out of the ordinary for you. You push all those thoughts aside, because you want him. You were certain that you never wanted anyone as much as you wanted him right then.
You think about asking his name, but you’re not sure if that would be appropriate or not given the circumstances.
“It’s Tetsurou,” you hear him say.
Did you say that out loud? You didn’t think you did, but the thoughts quickly fly from your mind when he pulls you into a bathroom at the end of the hall. He wastes no time in pushing you against the door and claiming your lips again when he slams it shut.
All coherent thoughts disappear from your brain and all you can think about is him again, all-consuming and addictive. His lips travel from your lips to your jaw and down your neck. You can’t help the sounds that escape your mouth when he nips and sucks on a particular spot near your pulse. Your hands find purchase on his shoulders before trailing down his chest, making their way back down to his buckle but he stops you again.
“Not yet,” his voice is stern, and it makes you press your legs together, yearning for some kind of friction.
He moves his hands down to the back of your thighs and coaxes them around his hips, lifting you completely off the ground. You didn’t even notice him moving with you until you’re sitting on something and you realize it’s the sink countertop. He leaves a trail of open-mouthed kisses on your jaw and neck that have you arching your back and pulling him closer with your legs.
“W-won’t someone see?” you question, only slightly concerned about being caught.
“There’s no one here.”
The finality in his tone leaves no room for argument and you can’t suppress a moan when his hand reaches under your short dress and grazes across your heat.
He gives you that sinful smirk again and caresses your legs and thighs, deliberately avoiding where you wanted him to touch so badly.
Fucking tease.
Kuroo has to bite his lip to hold back a laugh at your thoughts, you were still feisty, that was good to know. He loved to tease you though, and that wasn’t going to change now. He kept his eyes trained on yours and swiftly moved your underwear to the side, pressing a finger into you.
You gasp in both pleasure and slight discomfort at his bold move. He keeps his finger still, allowing you to adjust before moving it, and the feeling has your eyes rolling back in your head. If he could do this to you with just his fingers you could only imagine what he could do with…other things.
He added another finger scissoring them into you, loosening you up. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d done this but the feeling had you spiraling out of your mind. More, you needed more. You cry out in pleasure when his fingers hit a particular spot inside you that has you seeing stars and sinking your nails into the fabric covering his shoulders. His fingers continue their ministrations and his mouth makes its way to your neck once more, biting and sucking into the tender flesh, marking you.
Suddenly he removes his hand, leaving you breathing heavily and looking him questioningly. He gives you a roguish grin before pulling you to the edge of the counter and getting down on his knees. Your eyes widened momentarily when you realized what he was about to do, but before you could utter a word you found your legs thrown over his shoulders, and his hands spreading your thighs and keeping them apart. His tongue is kitten licking between your folds, teasingly of course, until he zeroes in on your clit. You nearly scream as he takes your bud into his mouth, sucking and licking like he knew your body better than you did. Your hands grip onto the edge of the counter and your head is thrown back in pleasure. The hazy red lighting in the room, coupled with the muffled music vibrating through the walls makes the experience all the more sensual. Your moans become louder when he sinks two fingers back into you and all it takes is a couple more flicks of his wrist and you’re coming completely undone on his tongue.
Hearing you scream his name stirs a pit of desire in Kuroo’s stomach that he’s all too familiar with, a feeling he hadn’t had in quite some time. He continues licking at your folds as your ride out your orgasm. When your high subsides, he looks down at your dishevelled state slumped back against the mirror. You`re breathing heavily, and still shaking slightly, and he can’t help himself but stand up and brush your sticky, wet hair off your forehead while licking your essence off his lips. You look up at him, eyes still clouded with lust and a little out of focus from the mind-blowing orgasm, and it shocks you a little to see the tenderness in his gaze. It almost feels like this is more than a sloppy hook-up in a dingy, club bathroom.
“You’re still so gorgeous,” he whispers tightly, and you swear you see a flash of pain in those sharp golden eyes of his. Before you could think more of it though, he yanks your underwear off and enters you with a swift thrust that has your back arching and a scream leaving your throat as your grip shifts from the countertop to his broad shoulders to hold yourself upright. Your fingers grasp at the collar of his shirt and pull him down to slam your lips onto his. The kiss is sloppy and rough. He waits until he feels you clench deliciously around his length before pulling back and thrusting back into you to the hilt. 
The pace he sets not long after is brutal, but you revel in it. This is what you needed. His hands are creating more bruises on your hips with their vice grip as he pounds into you relentlessly. You can feel the tip of his cock hitting your cervix with every thrust, and the slight twinge of pain sends you feral. Your moans alternate between screams and urges for him to go harder and faster, which he complies to every time. You’re not sure a man has ever fucked you this good before. 
“And no one ever will,” he growls into your ear.
Your brain is a pile of mush, you don’t even realize what he’s said. All you know is how complete you feel with his cock buried deep inside you, and how you want more. Your fingers tangle themselves in his hair again, and it’s then you notice his shirt is halfway of his shoulders and the top few buttons are gone, ripped right off. Did you do that? You can’t even remember. 
“T-Tetsu, more,” you stammer out.
He stills for a moment when you say his name, he hasn’t heard it in so long. Then he’s hiking one of your legs higher around his waist, giving him an even deeper reach that has you screaming. You’re so close. All it takes is a few more thrusts with pinpoint accuracy at that spot inside you and you’re unravelling before his eyes again. You come screaming out his name and it pushes him right over the edge with you. You feel his warmth fill you, and the sensation is addictive, you clench around him, milking him for all he’s worth as he groans into the spot between your neck and collarbone. 
He holds you gently against his sweaty chest as you both ride out your orgasms. When the white noise fades, you’re greeted with the erratic beating of his heart, and you feel an odd sense of warmth and comfort wash over you. You feel his lips kissing the top of your head, and you find that such an intimate thing to do for someone you just hooked up with in a club bathroom, but nothing about this entire encounter seems normal at all.
Kuroo readjusts his clothes with mechanic quickness, then grabs some tissues from the cannister by the sink and wets them before cleaning you up carefully, and fixing your clothes back into place. You watch him silently as he does all of this, and there are several questions racing through your mind that you just want to blurt out, but the one that’s most confusing is, why does he seem so familiar?
You two make your way back out into the hallway, and even though the music is still blasting, the silence between you is deafening. You want to talk, but you’re realizing this was literally just a hook up and now that it was over, he wanting nothing more. You swallow the growing lump in your throat and steel your resolve to just drink the rest of your night away, and enjoy it like you came to do. 
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getlitaesthetic · 4 years
Note
Hi I hope the requests are still open because I’m living for the idea of a darker Obey Me take! I was wondering if I could request HCs of the brothers obsessing over a MC who they’re desperate to make their bride of sorts, Cuz something tells me that if one of those boys falls for a human then they’re not gonna let them go easily, or at all, willingly or not
Requests are always open, welcome!
None of the brothers are ever truly going to love MC, but they’ll definitely take an interest, and that’s never a good time for our poor MC, let’s take a look...
Lucifer
MC is his responsibility. That means that they belong to him-- a gift, from Diavolo.
Obviously, anyone touching something that so clearly belongs to him is unacceptable.
He does not see MC as their own person, or even a pet. They are an object for him to do with as he sees fit.
Other demons that pay too much attention to MC are quickly and mercilessly dispatched, with a calm smile. He forces MC to lick the blood from his fingers.
Lucifer doesn’t need MC’s hand in marriage, marriage is an outdated concept anyways. 
Instead, he’ll collar and leash them, and subject them to harsh trainings, until they’ve given in so completely that the memory of their old life is a faded shadow, growing further with every hour of the endless night.
Eventually, he has a perfectly obedient toy, and if it’s only a shell of what MC used to be, who will care to notice?
No one, because MC is not allowed to leave his chambers without his accompaniment.
“Tell me you missed me. I know an hour is too long to spend apart.”
Mammon
Whatever MC does, they should not run.
Mammon has connections throughout the Devildom, and eyes in the human realm. MC will be found, and the punishment they receive will not be worth the few moments of freedom.
If he decides he wants them, they’ll become a staple at his side. MC will always be draped in pretty, expensive things, and taught the right words to say.
MC didn’t ask to become the spouse of a crime boss, but here they were. The ring on their finger was massive. The finger itself? Had to be reattached after it was chopped off as punishment for MC attempting to remove the wedding band once.
The wedding was extravagant-- what a shame MC doesn’t remember any of it, considering they were drugged out of their mind.
Essentially prepared to be forced to play the doting spouse to a man who will do whatever it takes to keep them smiling, even if that means sewing it into their face.
“Hey, hey, hey, lookin’ good, baby! I knew that outfit was worth the price tag!”
Leviathan
At first, he doesn’t seem like a threat. At least, no more a threat than any other demon.
Sure, he’s always where MC is. Sure, some of their things have gone missing. Sure, his camera is always angled towards them.  But that’s coincidence, isn’t it?
Of course it isn’t.
When it happens, it’s all at once. MC is wrapped up tightly in his tail, to the point they can’t breathe, and drug down the hall towards his bedroom. 
They pass out somewhere along the way, and when they wake, they’re suspended over the aquarium, hungry Devildom fish circling below, long hellish teeth gnashing as they wait for their meal.
But he won’t feed you to the fish. Not if MC does just one little thing for him, anyways.
What thing is that?
Marry him, obviously.
Every second they hesitate, he lowers the rope holding them, until they’re so close to the water that it’s only luck none of the fish have decided to try jumping for a bite.
After the wedding, don’t ever expect to leave his room again, not even accompanied. After their death, he keeps the body until it’s too rotten to be any good, at which time he finally indulges the fish. He keeps their bones and ring though, as a reminder.
“Don’t worry, MC, you’ve got everything you need right here! There’s food, and games, and me!”
Satan
MC doesn’t even know it’s happening. They aren’t even suspicious. In fact, they’re truly in love with Satan when they agree to marry him.
They have absolutely no idea he’s been toying with them this entire time.
Testing spells, potions, manipulation techniques.
And he certainly hasn’t bothered being faithful.
When MC discovers this, they want to be furious, to throw off the ring and ask for a divorce...
But they don’t. They continue smiling cordially, and kiss him sweetly, telling him it’s okay, of course they forgive him, as dread pools in their stomach.
Finally, MC is realizing they don’t really have any power here after all. This entire time, a puppet for Satan’s whims, and they’re completely unable to fight it.
They sit at the tea table, humming a joyful tune, laughing at his jokes, finally aware that they are locked inside of their own body.
“I’ve been waiting for this day for so long, MC. Finally you understand that you’re married to the cleverest of demons.”
Asmodeus
Isn’t even hiding it to be honest.
And why should he?
All he has to do is stare into MC’s lovely eyes until they start to melt, their core heating up as they shift uncomfortably, suddenly starving for Asmodeus’ attention. The way he knows it was always meant to be.
He doesn’t bother to lock them up, they’re so high on the taste of him they haven’t once looked for an escape!
Besides, even if MC did get out, what a thrill to chase them down.
He toys with them until they’re completely empty, just a drooling little breeding cow without a thought in their pretty head. But don’t worry, he adores them that way. He’ll make sure to keep them fed and watered, even when their only desire is to keep playing.
The wedding is lavish, but mostly so he can dress MC up and show everyone exactly how weak they were after all.
“Oh, MC~ You’ve never been more lovely than when you finally came the last of your mind out.”
Beelzebub
This marriage, unfortunately, is short lived.
Beelzebub wants nothing more than to be with MC forever, to make them part of him.
He lures them in with comfort, something that seems impossible to find anywhere else in the Devildom, as even the other human here is so much more equip than they are to survive.
They spend long nights curled in his bed with him, laid on his chest, trying so hard to ignore the fact that there’s no heartbeat there to calm them, only eerie silence and a thick sludge of black tar running through his veins.
Finally, MC is comfortable enough to enter his room of their own accord, without coaxing, even smiling. Beelzebub offers them a sweet little promise ring, which they accept.
He’s so happy. He finally feasts on MC, leaving nothing to waste, including the ring. Finally they are truly part of his world.
“MC, you always look so delicious. Can’t I have a taste?”
 Belphegor
He’s much too tired to chase darling MC.
He’ll follow them slowly, a horrifying hulking shadow, always there, watching over. 
No one dares to look at him twice, and they certainly begin to avoid MC.
Eventually there’s no one left to talk to, so they begin to talk to their shadow.
The things he says are sweet, dripping with sap, and slow. It begins to wear MC down.
Depression begins to set in at the lack of contact from anyone else.
They stop going out.
Their appetite begins to decline.
They lose interest in the things they used to love.
Slowly, the demon draws MC towards his chambers, preparing for a very, very long nap with his new stuffed animal.
“Aren’t you so tired of it all already? Let’s go to bed, nothing can hurt you if you aren’t awake to feel it.”
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bookishbarnowl · 3 years
Text
“I’m a person!”
The intimidation technique didn’t seem to phase the cocky teen. He smirked. “Techno, you gotta show me what’s wrong,” he goaded.
Break his leg, the AI suggested, but he blocked that out. He refused to play charades with the pint-sized terror.
In a post-apocalyptic world where the remaining survivors live in secure underground bases, Techno is a metal heart among dozens of warm, beating ones. That doesn't stop him from embracing his humanity, but it also means he has a few weaknesses others don't.
Warnings: Mild dehumanization (resolved)
Relationships: Technoblade & Tommy, Techno & Tommy & Wilbur
Word Count: 1,849
Ao3 Link: Here
Here’s a Wingdings translator if anyone wants to follow what Techno’s saying, but don’t feel like you need to, it’s not really plot relevant. Almost all of it is him threatening Tommy. :)
https://lingojam.com/WingdingsTranslator
Technoblade stormed down the hallway, mechanical limbs pounding against the floor of the bunker with resounding clangs as he stopped bothering to lighten his footsteps. Stealth was not a priority right now. He cranked up the volume on his voicebox, uncaring that no one could currently understand him. He was sick and tired of his Tommy’s ridiculous pranks, and changing his language settings while he was recharging was the last straw.
“❄︎□︎❍︎❍︎⍓︎!” he roared in his default android language, slamming doors open and shut as he searched. Other personnel quickly caught on to his current temper and promptly got out of his way, retreating to the parts of the base he’d already searched.
Yeah, faster, the broken AI jeered in the back of his head, spurring him on. He growled and tried to ignore it, but picked up the pace anyway. He was done.
He finally found Tommy and Wilbur in the latter’s bedroom, playing a video game together and bickering happily. He flung open the door with a bang and grabbed the remote, turning the TV off as they both yelled indignantly.
“✡︎□︎◆︎🕯︎♎︎ ♌︎♏︎⧫︎⧫︎♏︎❒︎ ♐︎♓︎⌧︎ ⧫︎♒︎♓︎⬧︎ ❒︎♓︎♑︎♒︎⧫︎ ■︎□︎⬥︎,” he snapped at Tommy, positively radiating anger.
The intimidation technique didn’t seem to phase the cocky teen. He smirked. “Aww, Techno, I can’t understand you. What exactly is the matter?”
“👍︎◆︎⧫︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ♍︎❒︎♋︎◻︎📪︎ ♓︎⧫︎🕯︎⬧︎ ■︎□︎⧫︎ ♐︎◆︎■︎■︎⍓︎📬︎ ✋︎🕯︎❍︎ ♎︎□︎■︎♏︎.” he replied, his face darkening. He wasn’t going to negotiate.
“Techno, you gotta show me what’s wrong,” Tommy goaded.
Break his leg, the AI suggested, but he blocked it out.
“✋︎ ❒︎♏︎♐︎◆︎⬧︎♏︎📬︎ 🕈︎♏︎ ♌︎□︎⧫︎♒︎ 🙵■︎□︎⬥︎ ⬥︎♒︎♋︎⧫︎🕯︎⬧︎ ⬥︎❒︎□︎■︎♑︎ ♋︎■︎♎︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ♋︎❒︎♏︎ ♑︎□︎♓︎■︎♑︎ ⧫︎□︎ ⬧︎⬥︎♓︎⧫︎♍︎♒︎ ♓︎⧫︎ ♌︎♋︎♍︎🙵 □︎❒︎ ⬧︎□︎ ♒︎♏︎●︎◻︎ ❍︎♏︎-” he broke off, gritting his teeth and distractedly registering the AI trying to convince him to commit a war crime. He crossed his arms, resentment and fury pooling in his stomach. He was not playing charades with the pint-sized terror.
Wilbur was looking back and forth between the two of them, observant enough to piece together the situation. He was also partially fluent in the android tongue, enough to probably pick up one or two keywords in Techno’s rapid-fire speech.
“⬧︎ ◻︎ ♏︎ ♏︎ ♍︎ ♒︎ ⬧︎ ⧫︎ ◆︎ ♍︎ 🙵,” Techno enunciated clearly in his direction, slow enough that he could pick it up, then switched back into his regular talking speed. “❄︎□︎❍︎❍︎⍓︎ ✋︎ ♋︎❍︎ ♎︎♏︎♋︎♎︎ ⬧︎♏︎❒︎♓︎□︎◆︎⬧︎📬︎ ❄︎♒︎♓︎⬧︎ ♓︎⬧︎ ■︎□︎⧫︎ ♐︎◆︎■︎■︎⍓︎.”
“Voice… trapped? Stuck?” Wilbur translated. “And something about death? I heard the word Tommy…” He rounded on his brother. “What did you do to him?”
Tommy was trying hard not to laugh, which only made Techno feel worse. “It was just a prank,” he defended. “Isn’t it hilarious? Go on, try and say something else,” he prodded.
Techno didn’t move, mouth stubbornly shut. Some of his anger was eating away into humiliation, which he was sure was the worst emotion in existence. He quashed the feeling and tried to get back to being infuriated.
Oooh, someone’s embarrassed, the AI mocked. Scared, even? Ah, and there’s the helplessness.
Sometimes the voice cut deeper than it had any right to. Techno growled again, the sound rumbling menacingly through his entire body as he determinedly refused to dwell on those statements. He fixed Tommy with a glare that would have most people in the base quivering in fear, but he had the audacity to grin back at him.
“Techno, you’ve gotta ask me for help if you want it fixed,” he taunted, standing up with a hand on his hip as Wilbur looked torn. “The great Blade’s gotta admit he needs help.”
That was the tipping point for Techno.
“G̵͙͊ẽ̷̮t̵̜̽ ̶̬̆r̵͉͐i̸ḑ̴͂ ̶̧̂ō̷̜f̷ ̵̼͘t̷̑h̶̽is ̵͎̾n̸̠͑o̷̦͘w̸̠̃,” he snarled, brute forcing his way through the sloppily installed language blockers in sheer rage. His eyes flashed red and the claws stored in his finger joints slid out against his will, the voice in his head cackling as oily tears started leaking from his eye sockets.
Wilbur’s eyes widened and he jumped up, grabbing a screwdriver off of the desk and cautiously approaching the crying android. Tommy looked taken aback, his expression dissolving into something more sheepish.
“⚐︎ ■︎ ❍︎ ⍓︎ ♌︎ ♋︎ ♍︎ 🙵,” Techno instructed Wilbur carefully, directing him to the detachable panel on his lower back. He closed his eyes and tried to get a grip on his emotions, retracting his claws and silencing his snickering commentator.
“I didn’t mean anything by it,” Tommy sputtered, backpedaling.
“Then get over here and fix it,” Wilbur told him severely. The teen hung his head and came over to help Wilbur get the panel off, revealing the computer screen embedded into the metal there that Tommy had used to hack into Techno.
Techno shivered as he felt the two of them start going through the code looking for Tommy’s software, exceptionally conscious that they literally had his entire being at their fingertips. A few malicious clicks, and he could be altered in any number of ways.
Phil had tried to help him update the security on his data so things like that wouldn’t be possible, but his system seemed to vehemently reject any permanent alterations to his code and always did a system reboot afterwards to purge the new protections. He suspected the busted AI he shared a headspace with was behind it. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem to care about short-term add-ons like the one Tommy had undoubtedly used.
He trusted both of them. He did, and no amount of pranks would change that. If he didn’t they wouldn’t be behind him right now, painstakingly removing the last traces of the language blocker. But sometimes they went too far. He felt used and taken advantage of. And that was not okay with him.
As soon as they got his back panel reattached, he left, ignoring their worried questions about if he was okay or not. He needed some time alone, and there was only one place no one would want to follow him.
He made his way to the airlock and grabbed a pack, slinging it over his shoulders and grabbing a blaster off the rack on the wall. Pulling a shield down over his face, he punched his code into the computer by the exit and signed himself out, then allowed the airlock to seal behind him.
The huge door slid open with a hiss in front of him, letting him out into the wasteland. The face shield protected him from the dust particles the inexhaustible wind dragged across every surface, and his metal body meant he didn’t have to deal with an oxygen tank or protective suit like the rest of the residents in the base. He scanned the area around the base with a keen eye, clipped his blaster to his hip, and set off into the desert.
He didn’t go far, barely beyond the next hill, but it was enough to make him feel like he was the only one in the world, which was what he wanted.
Lonely, lonely, lonely, the AI chanted in his head, and he pushed it away. Solitude helped him think.
But his peace didn’t last very long. The sound of clumsy footsteps stumbling through the dirt reached his ears, and he bowed his head and internally groaned. Someone had come after him, and it sure didn’t sound like Phil. A few more seconds of waiting would tell him which of the two less tolerable options he’d gotten. He considered running farther away, certain he could outdistance whichever it was, but if it was Tommy he’d just doggedly follow. And Wilbur would feel hurt. So he stayed put.
Leave him behind, the voice commanded. Shut up, he told it.
Sure enough, a moment later Tommy all but tripped over the crest of the hill and joined him at the bottom with a little help from gravity, breathing hard through the oxygen mask and making a vain attempt to brush the sheen of sweat off a brow covered by his helmet.
“These suits are so awkward to walk in,” he started, voice coming through the speakers in the aforementioned suit with a slightly tinny distortion. It was obviously an attempt to break the ice, though a pretty terrible one since Techno had no need for the bulky garments. He took the bait anyway, might as well get this over with.
“You were still pigheaded enough to come after me in one,” he replied.
“Well, uh, Wilbur put me up to it, y’know, and Big Man TommyInnit’s never one to back down from a challenge, eh?”
“Did you at least sign out a firearm before you left?”
“Nah. Who’s gonna mess with these guns?” he cracked, flexing non-existent arm muscles. Not that you could tell through the suit. The thick fabric made even someone like Phil, one of their best scouts, look like they’d rolled in marshmallows. The corner of Techno’s lip twitched in spite of himself.
Heh, Lonely Man thinks the Stupid Child is funny- He shoved it back again. Get some more creative insults, he thought.
“If you get jumped by a monster I will laugh at your corpse,” he warned.
“You wouldn’t, you love me too much,” Tommy sniggered, punching his shoulder.
“You’re right, I do,” he responded, unexpectedly serious.
The change in mood was not lost on Tommy, and his laugh quieted. “I love you too, man,” he returned. “I’m, um, really sorry about earlier. That was too far.”
“It was,” Techno agreed noncommittally.
“I shouldn’t mess with your code.”
“You shouldn’t.”
“I’m not going to stop playing pranks on you.”
He sighed. “I knew my expectations were too high.”
“But I won’t hack you again.”
“Thank you,” he said, accepting the apology. “Messin' with living code is a serious invasion of privacy.”
“Yeah,” Tommy whispered, guilt heavy on his tone. “But I wouldn’t hurt you, you know that right?”
“Of course I do,” he reassured him. He was rarely the one to initiate physical contact, but this time he made an exception, leaning over for a one-armed hug. Tommy leaned into him, but his personality wouldn’t let the silence continue for long.
“So whaddya say we go back and make Wilbur wish he’d never sent me out to reunite the dream duo?” he blurted, grin wide and looking like it had never left.
Techno didn’t bother hiding the upward quirk of his lip this time. “Let’s go beat up a nerd.”
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maruzzewrites · 4 years
Note
45 for my favorite Zipper Capo?
45. “You don’t even know how lucky you are. I protect you and provide for you. Don’t act so ungrateful.” 
Content warnings: yandere content, obsessive behavior, possessive behavior, disembodiment/amputation, mental/emotional abuse and manipulation, idk what else guys you tell me.
His fingers are slender as he handles your own with gentleness. You wince at the sight of the contact, but you don’t want to pretend to feel it on your skin, in your nerves. Not because you’re tired or in need of some sort of superiority over his treatment, but because your brain would give out if you acknowledged the reality of your situation.
The first time he decided to detach your limbs, it was when he decided you were his to take. You knew Bruno’s occupation and his affiliations, but people all around you were quick to reassure you he wasn’t one of those thugs, one of those lowlifes who drag people in the mud just to steal a few bucks. No, he was one of the good ones, a mobster who could and would help those in need. You believed them then, and now you have to stomach the regrets. That is, when you get to have a stomach attached to your body.
Bruno, as you came to understand a while after you first met him, was a lonely man. Despite his charisma and his network, he was incredibly alone; the years spent, since childhood, in the grim world of Italy’s criminal underbelly weren’t an attractive quality for friends and lovers alike. Everyone was ready to be helped, but no one was willing to risk their safety to stay at the side of someone who put their life on the line every day, especially if it wasn’t even to be virtuous. And you were the same, just the same; young, and simply in need, you were not above begging him to help your family and then walk away when he asked you to consider him as something more than a mere do-gooder.
He didn’t appreciate, of course. Your current predicament is a blatant hint about that fact; spiritless on the bed, against the headboard so that you wouldn’t collapse for the lack of support from your legs or arms. Your lower limbs lay down on the floor, near the man who was occupied with one of your hands on his lap, careful to spread the color of the nail polish evenly on each finger. Your nails – long, but rounded, just as he liked – are simple in design, with the white tip neatly contrasting with the pink of the rest.
It is an out of body experience, seeing your own arms resting peacefully on Bruno’s legs as he shoots you furtive, quick glances now and again to check if you are still focused on him. And you are, you couldn’t do anything besides fixing your eyes on the show in front of you, both mundane and macabre, but disgustingly expected at this point. Your stomach doesn’t even squirm at the thought or the realization that this abnormal situation became your routine.
With a finishing touch, Bruno returns the little brush back in its rightful container and looks over his work. His thumb, fondly, caresses your knuckles and traces their dips with domesticity, sneaking his fingertips under your hand, over your palm, to rise it from his lap and leave a delicate kiss on the back of it. His eyes raise to meet yours, with a sweet smile to complete the picture of a perfect man who wants nothing but the best for you. Coincidentally and conveniently, he believes that meant he gets to make choices for you if it means you were right besides him, no matter how much you are unable to do otherwise.
“Do you like it?” His voice comes smooth, deep, but never reassuring. He turns the arm around to show off the refined color painted on your nails. You squints, not to look at it better, but simply because the sight of the perverse scene in front of you; Bruno, the portrait of serenity and class, legs crossed with elegance, as he offers you the view of perfectly manicured nails shining under the warm light in the room. The arm lays limp in his hands, cutting abruptly a little after the elbow. It makes your stomach turn, empty and heavy in your body.
“No.” It’s a simple enough answer and you know it will have its consequences, but you can’t really care right now. You know Bruno won’t physically hurt you, for he’s too kind, but also too smart. Giving you ammo to feed your hate is a misstep in his attempts to weight down on your mind with guilt, and pressure, and doubt. His eyes flutter open behind his long lashes and the blue of his eyes has a cold flavor to it, like frigid waves of a stormy sea.
“I like it,” he states as he turns the limb around again, watching over his work with fondness and confusion. All fake, pretend, all so incredibly infuriating. The sensation of burning resentment grows in your chest, but it’s suddenly suffocated by the anxiety over the stern look he gives you once he shifts his focus on you. It’s not a hit or a blow, but it feels like resting warm skin on the surface of steel, exposed to the wind and the snow. Bruno’s words never cease to sound silky, but they gain resolution and authority, “There must be something you like about this.”
This, you are aware, refers to the circumstance. The living situation you are forced to carry on by force and convenience, as Passione isn’t a forgiving force if you decide to cross even the lowest of capos. You know Bruno is beloved by mobsters and civilians alike, so you refrain from running away because you’d meet too many difficulties if you attempt to leave him behind. That’s how he dragged you in this life the first time, too, with charming words spoken with a silver tongue and a net made of social pressure from those around you.
You can’t leave, but you can avoid biting your tongue. Bruno grimaces each and every time you don’t bow your head to his demands, always masked with questions and encouragements. But you are aware his patience would run out one day, and you are toeing the deadline of that moment. Luckily, today he still holds in all the cruelty that allowed him to climb ranks in a ruthless syndicate. For now, Bruno is still the serious, charming and wicked gentleman that sweetens his deals with veiled threats.
“You don’t even know how lucky you are,” he approaches you with poise in his steps, the click of his shoes too loud in the silence of the room as you refuse to meet his eyes. You feel him rest your arms on the bed, near you, and then his hands slide on your back as he lets you gently settle on the plush duvet. Your head is on the pillow now, and this allows him to make eye contact before you turn away. Not even a sneer or a groan gets past his lips, only chilly resignation, “I protect you and provide for you.”
And he did, he does, he will. That’s bitter on your tongue, that knowledge that he sends your family all the necessities and the protection someone would need in the worst neighborhoods of Naples. Crooks and delinquents can’t touch your loved ones until Bruno gets to bask in your presence. Your heart winces in your chest, then it hurts, as if constricted by something painfully tight. You feel blue, all of the sudden, and you don’t know why. Bruno’s hands meets your cheek to turn your head towards him with tenderness.
“Don’t act so ungrateful.” The words are harsh, but the tone is melancholic. His eyes tell a story of loneliness, of a solitary child who could never let anyone get too close if he wanted to preserve his own feelings. But you are here now, for him, for you, ready to mend past and present so that you can move on together. It’s sweet, but bitter and sour around your tongue, and his blue eyes wash over you to the point you feel your heartbeat slow against your ribs.
But that moment is shattered by Bruno himself, who reminds you your bane as he reattaches your limbs. When the bones, the flesh, the skin realigns, it feels like tearing and sewing at the same time. It burns, but it’s icy, and suddenly you feel the pressure of his finger tips on your arm. Your resentment flashes again and you can’t feel pity for the man anymore before he secures your wrists to the bed with slick experience.
Your emotions circle between anger, fear and pity; one day, he won’t even need to speak, before you succumb, and he will be the only place where you will be able to forget all of it.
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writing-the-end · 4 years
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Feral Friendship- Part 3
Previous Post
Masterpost
Haha I really love putting these right when the angst is at it’s peak- makes us all have to wait a little longer to see the resolution, and a break from all the sadness. I really do love Feral Friendship, and this is one of my favorite parts. 
Ecto belongs to @cooler-cactus-block
Red belongs to @theguardiansofredland​
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The remaining infiltrators scuffle their heels against the jungle wood in Cub’s base. False holds the red banner out, but it feels like a hollow victory. Not even a victory- they just evened out the score. Cub looks at the bruised and rattled hermits before him. They’re covered in sand and leaves, looking like they’ve been camping for weeks. The sun is just starting to set on the first day of the game. “Where’s TFC’s entire team? And Scar?” 
Xisuma shrugs. “We just know they haven’t returned.” 
“Who knows? Maybe they have the second flag and are just being cautious, Sheshwammy.” Keralis offers, but the others seem less optimistic. 
“And Scar?” Cub raises an eyebrow, taking the banner that False holds out. The wool fabric feels so good on his fingers. Such a hard fought item, finally in the hermits’ hands. He hands it off for Cleo to hang for scoring above the base. 
“Unfortunately, reports indicate that he was captured after hiding that flag. Etho saw Avon flying back to their side with him. Though he didn’t seem that concerned.” Doc reports, scratching his chin with his reattached arm. 
“As aggressive as they have been in their tactics, they’re still our friends. I don’t think they’ll harm Scar.” Joe adds. 
“We aren’t going to let Scar’s sacrifice go to waste. We need to strike while the iron’s hot. I want everyone to rush for Ecto’s flag.” Cub clenches his fist as he swipes up the red scrap that symbolized Avon’s flag on the map. “Everyone that isn’t Cleo, Joe, or me should go in and fight through the minefield. If we just throw all we have at them, they can’t stop all of us.” 
“Ah, the good old french revolution tactic.” Cleo hums.
Joe shrugs. “I mean, it worked in that case. At least our bastille doesn’t have muskets. Just cacti.” 
Cub hushes them, and points towards the door. “You guys go, get to the border and storm for the flag. Us three will stay behind and keep watch for Avon.”
Stress flags down the patrols behind the headquarters, waving for the three pairs to follow the remaining infiltration teams. Together, they march to the border between lands. The defense team seems surprised by the new order, though all just as excited about getting to charge into the mysterious land beyond the cactus wall. Night has fallen over the land, and monsters creep and crawl in the desert. They can outrun the husks and spiders, and most are well armored against the creepers and skeletons. It’s the other team that they have to worry about. 
It’s been a long time since Grian has seen a united hermit front, almost everyone here to tackle the wanderers. He admits it feels badass, like some superhero movie to have the crew lined up. Some of them have wings to fly over, others will run through and tackle what is on the ground. “For Scar! For the Dig team!” 
The hermits charge into unknown territory, breaking down more of Ecto’s cactus wall and running across the desert like calvary on horses. In fact, some of them are on horses. Jevin and Beef speed ahead, weapons drawn and cutting a path through the monsters ahead of them. 
But a horse can only take them so far. Jevin’s horse rears as he snaps the reins back, nearly falling into a sandpit that has opened up beneath them. The sand cascades into the cavern, followed by a single arrow shuttling after the blocks it disturbed. Ren spots Ecto, standing upright on a cactus tower about at the height he’s flying. She has a bow and a quiver full of arrows, snickering as the hermits on foot are forced into her minefield. They’re trapped in her land, of shifting sands and sharp spines. 
Ren charges to knock her off, but the air is empty by the time he reaches her. Ecto has jumped, falling to the ground below in an elegant flip. And as her rotation turns her upward, a coy grin appears on her face towards Ren, and she salutes to her hermit friend. Ecto tucks up a moment later, rolling across the sand and taking off after the other hermits.  
Ren’s about to dive after her, but it pulled back into the sky by Grian. He hadn’t seen Grian since they crossed into the desert, and his friend looks like he’s been running a marathon. Or at least flying one. “Avon’s over the border. She’s going after our flag.” 
Ren turns to look back at the jungle, then to his fellow hermits below. “Go after her. You’re the best flyer on this whole server. If anyone has a chance to beat Avon in an air, it’s you my dude.” 
“What about the others?” Grian looks at the desert, watching Mumbo squeeze through the cacti that Ecto has grown everywhere. Only to fall into a pit of sand. Ecto must’ve somehow built all those, but how is completely beyond Grian. 
“I’ll round them up and tell them to get back and try to stop her.” Ren let’s go of his aloft ally, and the two part. While Ren relays the news to the others, Grian returns to chase after Avon. Cub had seen her flying in, and tried to take a few shots to keep her at bay, but none of the strategists are equipped for fighting. They shouldn’t have left their base so defenseless. Lucky for Grian, he can see Avon circling the canopy as he nears. It doesn’t look like she’s found any of the other flags.
Until she does. Like a phantom diving towards it’s weary prey, it’s an elegant dive. At least it is before she hits the tree while landing. A branch smacks her right in the face, knocking the angelic descent into a demonic crash. Even Grian winces at the hit, spiraling down to see the damage. 
Avon’s on her feet before Grian lands, shaking the dizziness from her mind and sprinting towards the blue flag fluttering. It’s tucked in the leaves of an oak tree, where even the wind struggles to find it. By the time Grian has landed, she’s ripped it from it’s stake. “We’re playing this again, huh? Let’s see how good a flyer you really are.” 
Grian sighs as Avon launches back into the air, daring for him to follow her. He’s not going to let her score again. This time, he plans to fight her midair as well. While she’s still rising above the treetops vertically, Grian takes off at an angle into the sky. Trying to intercept her midair, he pulls out his sword and spins it. The sign of a fight catches Avon’s attention. She pauses, wings opening wide to halt her ascent. For just a moment, She’s floating in the air, wings fully extended. She’s shadowed from behind by the full moon in the night, but Grian can clearly see purple irises sparkle with challenge, and a crooked grin like the chesire cat. “You aren’t going anywhere with that flag.” 
Avon watches the moonlight glint off Grian’s diamond enchanted sword. It’s freeing to have her flag already captured, allowing her to focus on nabbing theirs. Toying with them. Ecto and Avon have been having a blast watching the hermits struggle against surviving in the wild. Surviving in their natural habitat. And they still haven’t seen the worst. She ties the banner to her belt and retrieves her trident. 
And she dives. Closing her wings to drop beneath Grian, she opens again when she’s under him. Turning on her back, Avon throws her trident. Grian rockets away before it can hit him, and goes into chase after Avon and the flag. She flies low, weaving through the tallest trees of the jungle. He needs to gain on her, slow her down. She’s faster, more agile. But he’s clever. 
Avon turns sharp around a tree, but Grian stays straight, shooting through a tiny gap between neighboring trees. Catching up with her. He lights off rockets, the wind whipping his blonde hair against his face. Grian gets close enough to strike, and doesn’t waste a moment. 
The trident and the sword clash, a midair dogfight between the two commencing. It’s one thing to have a battle on land, but the sky is a whole different world. Head to head, metal clangs against crystal, sparks flaring in the night sky. Stars in their own right, pinpricks of light alive for an infinitesimal second before fading away.
Avon takes a pass at Grian, getting around him and gunning for the border. He grabs her foot before she can get away. She kicks her feet up, sending Grian flying into the air. He closes his elytra wings, and lets gravity drop him back down. Straight down towards Avon. Towards the flag tied to her waist. On his way down, his fingers wind into the blue banner and tears it free of her belt. Avon’s stunned as he reopens his wings and takes off back to the jungle. He only grins, sticking his tongue out and winking. “Pesky bird.”
Grian straps the flag to the halter of his elytra, freeing his hands for the attack he knows is coming. Avon won’t give up that easy. He’s seen her pass out before giving up. He was right, because when he looks over his shoulder she’s hot on his rockets. He lights off more, but it only takes a couple more strokes of Avon’s wings to catch up to him. Grian turns over, blocking her reach with his sword. 
Avon just pushes the flat of his blade, vaulting herself over him. Suddenly he’s chasing her again, seemingly for no reason. Except that the jungle is this direction. “What are you even doing?” 
“A surprise.” Avon chuckles, before vaulting into the sky. She stalls at the peak of her backflip, beginning to fall as he flies beneath her. Feet to the sky and arms reaching for him. 
And retrieving the flag from his back. She snatches it mid backflip, creasing off and back to her teams side. Grian can’t even turn around fast enough to catch her. She’s beyond his vision before they reach the border. “Oh, Cub is not going to be happy about that.” 
-----------------------------------------------------
Cleo glances over at Joe at her side, then back to Cub. He’s shifting around the iron nuggets at a feverish pace, mumbling to himself. Is this the loss of Scar, his fellow convex, finally taking a toll on him? Or is it because they’re losing again. “Cub, love, are you doing okay?”
“I don’t understand their tactics. It’s almost like they have none. But they’re winning.” Cub grips at what is left of his hair, moving the three golden nuggets around. Avon scored their second flag. He has two patrols watching the last flag. If it so much as moves, he wants to know. Ren and Grian are patrolling the skies, and the defense is back watching for Ecto or Avon. This entire time, it’s just been those two. Red must be their strategist. But that makes no sense. Red is a lot of things, but she definitely isn’t a strategist. She hardly thinks about her next move before doing it.
Cleo is tired of standing here, trapped in this dark room pouring over her maps and listening to mistakes. She needs to take matters into her own hands, and she knows exactly who else is itching to get into the fight again. Cleo grabs her rapier, busting through the door of the headquarters. Joe can at least calm Cub. Maybe a good poem will keep Cub from having a meltdown. 
Meanwhile, Cleo saunters through the forest to find the other girls. Stress and False are patching up their wounds from the rush for the desert flag. Brush burns, bruises, and bandages all over them. “I think we all know what needs to be done.” 
False grins as she sees Cleo rest her sword on her shoulder, green sutured skin chill against the metal blade. “Finally, we’re doing things the right way.” 
“These guys have no clue what they’re messin’ with.” Stress hums, tugging on her bowstring to test it’s load. 
“They see a loss. I see a challenge.” Cleo adds. “We’re going to get that flag, bring it back and even the odds for us. It’ll really raise spirits as well.” 
“We know you’ve got a plan, so what is it?” False stands, stretching her arms with a relaxed smile. A bandage crinkles at her cheek, but she’s hardly bothered. 
“We’re going to take TFC’s tunnel. They got the closest, even though it’s obvious now they’ve been trapped. If we continue to use it we can get right under Ecto’s flag. Us three have faster reflexes than them. We just need to be cautious.” Cleo starts off through the forest, tapping her blade against the trees as the other two girls follow. The moon is beginning to set, but there’s still more night ahead of them. Won’t matter much when they’re underground. 
“If Stress stays back while we continue to dig, she can fish us out of any sand traps.” Stress picks through the potions that she’s been brewing while they waiting for the next attack. This is much more manageable than rushing the other side. She feels she can do so much more with just False and Cleo. Less ducks to keep in a row. 
The three descend down the ladder, deep into the mines that the dig team left behind. False picks a torch off the wall, holding it up to see further. Firelight glistens off her goggles and cascades down her blonde hair. The three follow the straight mine. “This is definitely a lot more fun than I thought it was going to be.” 
“I was sure we were gonna finish before noon, in all honesty. Those wanderers really can hold their own.” Stress chuckles. 
Cleo giggles alongside her friends, before thoughts infiltrate. Back to the battle. “We’ve seen Avon and Ecto...has anyone mentioned Red?” 
The other two both shake their heads. “No one’s seen him since the game started.” 
“Let’s think about this.” Cleo states, continuing to walk through the tunnel. “We found Avon’s flag in the sky, and Ecto’s flag among the desert. So let’s put on our critical thinking caps on and deduce where Red likely is.” 
“The ocean.” Stress whispers. It makes sense now. They were playing to their advantages. Using what they knew best. 
“How will we get to the ocean when we can hardly even get across this desert?” False questions. It’s not even a big desert, more just a glorified beach with cacti. 
“None of us are right fit for the sea either. Not like Red is, that’s for sure.” Stress looks through the potions she has. She may need to go fishing with this new information. 
“It can’t be that bad. Red isn’t a fighter like Avon and Ecto. They probably put her at the back so we’d have to go through them first.” False points out.
“I don’t know...you see the way she got at the meeting? Even I was a little scared.” Doc must really have no fear, or didn’t notice the way Red’s entire body language shifted. If anything, the lack of sightings with Red is more terrifying. Like knowing a phantom is hovering over you, but not being able to see where it’s coming from. 
False holds her arm out, stopping the other two before any can fall into the chasm. It’s not deep, and is mostly filled with sand that fell from above. A pit trap, just like what they saw in their invasion. Ecto’s signature, apart from cacti. “Not even BDubs would be stupid enough to get stuck in this.” 
“But maybe they would get stuck in that.” Stress points over False’s shoulder, across the stone bridge and a bit deeper in the mine. Another hole. The girls creep across, holding their breath at the precarious sand stacked around them. “Iskall?” 
“Stress? Is that you? Oh thank goodness someone finally found us.” Iskall jumps to try and see out of the cactus hole he’s trapped in. Even if he could climb out, there was nowhere for any of them to run, except into more cacti. 
“Is this where you idiots have been?” Cleo snorts. 
“Hey, hey, hey! We were trapped! Duped! Deceived!” BDubs clambers up a cacti, just enough to see the new team before releasing. And back to pulling needles from his arm. 
“Why didn’t you guys dig out?” False tilts her head.
“No can do. It’s empty beneath this layer of sand. If any one of us dug through, we’d all go fallin’ even further.” TFC kicks sand in his little corner, watching it drizzle down the cacti roots like an hourglass. “We’ve been right trapped.” 
“Are you guys here to save us?” BDubs croons. Stress bites her lip, looking at the supplies she brought. Definitely no rescue supplies. 
“After we get the flag, we’ll come back to help. I promise boys. We’re losin’ something fierce, we really need to get this flag.” Stress looks to Cleo, who begins to build a path across the cactus pitfall. 
“We’re actually losing? How?” Iskall questions, but none of the free hermits answer. They build past them, resuming the mining that they left. “You guys should be right under it soon. Be careful of cacti.”
Stress takes a step back, allowing False to dig a narrow staircase up. Cleo’s face lights up as a scrap of red becomes visible over the other hermit’s shoulder. They’ve done it.
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The Adventures Of Remus And Janus Vol.2
TW: Cussing, Injury (Tell me if I missed any)
Total Word Count: 2000
It was just a normal afternoon. Or was it? Is it ever with these two?
Janus was in the main room, aka, Thomas’s living room, filming another Sanders Sides video with the others. Remus, however, was all by his lonesome in the dark-side’s house.
That was the first mistake; leaving Remus all by himself in the dark-side living room.
The second was of Remus’s own doing.
Remus had begun thinking. Uh oh. All the lights in his house were connected in one way or another to one singular wire- one singular fuse. Each had a different switch, but no matter where in the house or what type of light it was, it was somehow connected to one fuse. A fuse Remus was set out to find.
See, for the past few days, the lights had begun to be wary. He could just change the bulbs, but that was no fun! Why not just take care of it forever in one go?
Remus thought that if he found the main wire connecting to the fuse, then he could supercharge it and the problem would go away. That large influx of energy surging through the house would properly power the bulbs so they’d shine bright without needing a change. There is no way this plan could fail!
Oh but remember, this is Remus we’re talking about.
Finally, after searching and searching, Remus had found it. The fuse box. There was the fuse for all the light switches. He popped the box out of the wall, revealing the set of wires connecting to the fuses.
Remus took out his secret weapon- a lightning bug. A lightning bug? A lightning bug. Remus thought that the glow was in fact lightning in a bug, and if he cut that bug open in just the right place, he could charge the fuse with the lightning and supercharge the wires. That’s not quite how lightning bugs worked but he had the spirit.
Carefully Remus set the lightning bug onto the main wire. He pulled out the sharpest knife he owned and went for the bug. However, that little lightning bug was fast and Remus couldn’t quite cut up the bastard. He finally made a big slash- but to his dismay, the lightning bug had taken flight and he had just cut the main wire in half.
Oh. Shit.
There was a spark and the lights were out. Every single one in the dark-sides house, out. If this was the light-sides house it wouldn’t be as big of a deal, they could just open some windows, pull out candles, and work it out until they could fix the problem. But it wasn’t.
The dark-sides house didn’t have windows, and all the candles were either scented special ones that Janus owned and would never waste, or they were shit-DIY Remus candles made of the worst things smelling things you could imagine. Ew.
The walls were painted a very dark grey, so without the lights, you just couldn’t see, like at all. Pitch black inky death, you couldn’t see inches in front of your face.
If anyone could fix this, it could be Janus, seen as how he had gotten pretty handy over the years dealing with Remus’s shenanigans. Remus just had to get him...
Remus sank up into the main room, next to Roman. Everyone was shocked at his sudden appearance and unsure why he was there. Thomas wasn’t having any Intrusive thoughts, so why was Remus here?
Janus stood next to Logan, who was in the middle of some sort of info dump when Remus had arrived. Janus could see from the guilty look on Remus’s face that he had just done something stupid.
“...Janus?” Remus looked up at him with no attempt to hide his guilt.
“What happened?” Janus said with an annoyed tone.
“I may or may not have done something really bad that I need your help to fix.” Remus was now tapping his index fingers together, he didn’t know what else to do.
“I cut the main wire for the lights in half and now the entire house completely dark.”
“YOU WHAT?!” Janus didn’t even attempt to keep his cool. “WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?!”
“Well I was trying to fix the light problems but I didn’t want to change the bulbs so I instead hatched a plan to find the main wire and then supercharge it so the influx of power could light the bulbs without them needing to be replaced but-”
Remus stopped to take a breath before starting again. “but it didn’t work out as planned because that damn lightning bug wouldn’t stop moving so I couldn’t just cut it open and in the process, I cut the wire in half which then cut power to all the lights and now the place is in total darkness.”
The other sides, who had been standing there the entire time, were stunned and confused. What the fue-
Janus rubbed his temples. Not this again! It was only Thursday...
“Remus you’re definitely not an idiot.”
“Yeah that’s fair.”
With that, the two dark sides sunk out the main room and were now back in the-quite literally-dark-side home.
Janus sighed and summoned his toolbox, something which he had made for situations such as this. See, this wasn’t the first time Remus had messed with the wires and fuses. Janus made his way through the home, using muscle memory and his plethora of hands to sift through the darkness unharmed. Finally, he had found the fuse box. Remus had left the wires exposed, both dangerous and handy as Janus didn’t have to expose them himself in the dark.
“There, got it.” With some effort, Janus had fixed the broken wires, reattaching them to one another. With the resetting of the fuse, the lights flipped back on. You could hear Remus, who had somehow managed to stumble his way upstairs despite having no memory of ever going up the stairs, squealing with delight as he could see again.
Now to actually fix the light problem and replace the bulbs.
That might not seem like a daunting task at first, but the dark-sides ceiling was abnormally tall, too tall for a person with a ladder. So it was up to Janus and Remus to replace them without dying in the process. Yikes.
Janus made his way into the living room, meeting up with Remus as the light flickered above them. They looked up at the light and slowly back down at each other again.
Without words Remus whined “Please no” and Janus replied, “We have too”. Facial expressions are a gift to this world.
Remus was taller than Janus, while Janus was more skilled in this region of things (It's just a light bulb but Remus could find a way to blow up anything, no matter how mundane), so naturally, Remus crouched down and let Janus onto his shoulders, holding him up so he could reach the ceiling and change the bulb.
But wait.
He didn’t reach the ceiling, and therefore couldn’t change the bulb. Janus was now fully standing on Remus’s shoulders, but still, the height just wasn’t tall enough.
“wHY dO we hAVe such HIGH CEILINGS?!” Janus whined. “I can’t even skim the roof from here!”
“I have no clue but we gotta think of something,” Remus stated, looking around to find something to stand on. aha!
“The ladder! I’ll stand on the ladder, and you stand on me!” Remus excitedly stated, pointing towards the ladder perched against the kitchen wall. It was a stupid idea that was bound to get one of them hurt, but it was their best bet, and Janus didn’t have any other ideas.
“That idea is terrible. Put me down.”
With that Remus slowly crouched down, allowing the snake-side to hop off his shoulders safely. Remus then bolted towards the ladder, dragging it over and setting it up right underneath the light.
“How exactly is this going to work?” Janus questioned. Would he hop on Remus’s shoulders, then Remus would climb that ladder? Would he wait until Remus is on the ladder than climb on him??
“Hmmph! I didn’t think of that!” The Duke exclaimed, looking up and down trying to examine the situation. “How about I climb up the ladder, then crouch down so you can climb the ladder and get on me?”
“Horrible. Let’s do it.”
With that, Remus climbed up the ladder and crouched down at the top step, allowing Janus to climb up and then on top of his shoulders. Then, with Janus secure, he slowly stood up, trying not to wobble too much, so Janus could get to the light bulb. Lo and behold- He could reach it perfectly!
But oh. The light bulb was stubborn. It wouldn’t budge, not an inch. You’d think it was super glued! oh shit wait a minute-
“It’s not budging! It’s like its glued or something!” Janus spat through his teeth, jaw clenched as he struggled to get the bulb loose.
“Tsssss....” The Duke winced.
“...Remus, what did you do?”
“The other day the bulb was looking like it was going to fall..so I used my glue rifle and shot the bulb in place with super glue..”
The sheer statement sent a pain like no other through Janus. The words that came out of Remus’s mouth made him just want to quit. Just get down. Walk away. Keep walking. Faceplant onto the ground and never get up. hOW was he supposed to get the bulb out NOW?! WHY ME?!? He thought to himself.
Janus frustratedly groaned as he attempted to get the bulb loose once more. Again and again, he twisted and tugged the bulb, and slowly but surely the bulb was starting to come loose.
But it was just taking to long. Remus couldn’t hold him up forever. His knees started to shake as seconds passed like minutes, he wobbled but still kept his balance, just barely catching himself before he tipped to far over. He swayed back and forth, swaying Janus along with him.
"STAY STILL REMUS"
"I CAN'T HOLD YOU UP FOREVER!"
"JUST GIMME A MINUTE"
He was almost there. It was almost loose. Remus swayed a little too far, causing the ladder to tip over from underneath him. Remus couldn’t catch himself this time- it was too late. The ladder was out and the pair was falling to the ground.
As Janus was falling, he grabbed hold of the bulb, which was then ripped out of the socket and now in a falling Janus’s hand. A small price to pay for salvation! The light bulb was finally out of the socket!
Remus landed on top of the ladder, and Janus landed on top of him. The impact completely winded Remus, he gasped for air on impact. The pair lay there for a second, and Janus has shifted off of Remus so he could breathe. They stared at the empty socket, relieved the bulb was out but filled with dread knowing they’d have to get on the ladder again.
Was it 30 seconds? Was it a minute? 5 minutes? It was so hard to tell, but after some time the pair finally got up, ready to do it all again.
With some effort, careful feet, and steady hands, they were able to get the new bulb in place and safely come back down. They cheered in delight- the new bulb shining bright and new. It’s a crying shame that the bulb they had just replaced wasn’t the only bulb in need of replacing, but the two honestly didn’t care and didn’t have the energy to do it all again. Janus was too happy to be angry at Remus, and Remus was too dazed to understand what was truly happening anyway.
Janus summoned his wine, and the two sat on the couch and watched Beetlejuice. Remus was out cold within the first ten minutes, and after another hour Janus was out as well.
~~Next time in The Adventures of Remus and Janus, Vol.3~~
“SCALES? SLITHER? SNOOT??”
“Where could they have gone?!?”
“I DON’T KNOW!!”
~~Stay tuned~~
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Mind
Plot: AU A new identity, a dare, a meaningful reason – those are the common reasons for adding a permanent mark on your skin you’ve heard in your profession. You’ve seen the transfer in passing and never thought much of him, until he sat down in your chair for a dramatic request.
Rating: PG-13 (Language, fighting, implied injuries, homesickness, pain associated with tattooing, minor descriptions of piercings, light flirting)
Characters: Amity Transfer!Jimin x Older Female Dauntless-Born!Reader, plus Dauntless-born!Jungkook and mention of other members.
Notes: This is set in the world of Divergent by Veronica Roth. I do not own anything, other than the concept for this story. It was inspired by the reappearance of the “Nevermind” tattoo Jimin had on his ribcage from a previous concept. Please do not repost anywhere else!
“I haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaate school!” Jungkook whined as he flopped over the back of your tattoo chair dramatically, arms flailing around.
You looked up from cleaning your tools and rolled your eyes at the younger Dauntless member, grumbling that he was being ridiculous. He looked up and scrunched his nose, whining that you didn’t remember how boring classes were when you attended with the other factions.
“I swear my Choosing Ceremony can’t come fast enough!” he groaned. “I don’t care about the other factions – I wanna pass my initiation and do what noona does!”
“You’d have to pass an examination for this job,” you reminded him as you threw him a pointed look. “It’s not just about being creative with ink Kookie, you gotta know how the equipment works, what areas are the most painful to tattoo, and proper cleaning so no one gets a nasty infection.”
Jungkook straightened up and waved it away, insisting he could do it, no problem. You sighed as you washed your hands and dried them, sneaking a quick glance at the clock.
“How about piercing noona?” Jungkook asked at dinner.
You accepted the plate of burgers from another Dauntless person and placed one on your plate. “Same thing Kook,” you said, “you need to take an exam and learn about correct techniques and pain zones. Also, you need to know what is appropriate to pierce at certain times, like nip–”
“Nevermind,” Jungkook cut you off when he realized he would probably encounter intimate piercing requests. He took a large bite of his burger and you smiled with a shake of your head. You lobbed a fry at him playfully and he protested before fumbling to catch it, so it didn’t land on the floor.
He chewed on the fry thoughtfully and leaned an elbow on the table. He leaned closer and lowered his voice, “I wonder if hyung went back to his normal color or if he –”
“This spot taken?” Bud asked as he sank in the spot next to Jungkook.
The younger member shut his mouth and shook his head, deciding it was better to eat in peace. You greeted Bud and engaged him in small talk, mostly talking about how some recent tattoo requests went, the possibilities for new designs to include on the boards, etc. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed that Max was glancing at your table and you realized why Kook cut off his sentence.
The younger member had been talking about Namjoon, a former Dauntless who transferred to Erudite last year. Max seemed to take the loss hard since Namjoon showed potential to be a leader in Dauntless. While many were shocked that he would leave, you always picked up on the small details that indicated how smart Namjoon truly was. He used to pay visits to the hair salon to have his natural dark color stripped away to a platinum color, sometimes switching it up for silver. Now that he was with the Erudite, he probably had given up the piercings and allowed his hair to grow back.
Jungkook missed him but he confessed behind closed doors that he didn’t hate Namjoon for leaving. “I think hyung is brave for following his destiny,” he confided. “He seemed smarter than Max and maybe it’s better he go where he can thrive.”
“You take a look at the new crop?” Bud asked, interrupting your thoughts.
You raised your head to glance over at the table of initiates, scanning the faces quickly. You saw a handful of Candors, lots of Dauntless-born, and a few from Amity and Abnegation. You were about to look back at Bud when you felt someone looking at you, which made you snap your head to the left.
Your eyes met those of a blonde with full lips sporting loose fitting clothing in natural dyed colors of rust and yellow. He blinked when he realized he was caught and he sheepishly ducked his head, a flush coloring his cheeks.
Bud noticed and chuckled throatily, commenting that you had a looker. Jungkook looked around to see who it was and you snorted as you picked up your tray, wanting to avoid the topic of a possible shipping between you and this Amity kid.
“I wonder why there’s so many Candors here,” Jungkook mused as he passed you a sanitation wipe for the chair.
You accepted it and began cleaning the chair for the next person. “Well maybe they got sick of telling the truth all the time. It gets kinda dull, you know?”
“What about the Amity guy?” he asked.
You shrugged your shoulders and tossed the wipe into the trash can. “Why not go bug him instead of me?”
Jungkook sighed and he carried the container of sanitation wipes back to the cabinet. “I don’t know him – besides, it’s you he looked at.”
You snorted as you watched Jungkook replace the container in the cabinet, shaking your head. “Coincidence Kook.”
“Are you sure?!”
“Yeah I’m sure! That guy may look like the squishiest kid I’ve seen, but he’s ripped!”
You brushed past some Dauntless girls gossiping about someone and you stifled a yawn as you passed the piercing salon.
“Are you going to go on about that kid too?” Bud asked you when you arrived at the tattoo studio.
You raised a brow and were about to reply, when Jungkook dashed over, face flushed with excitement.
“Noona, his name is Jimin – he ended up being in the top of the initiates during the first phase!” the younger member piped up.
Bud whistled when he heard the comment about the rankings, murmuring that this Jimin kid was turning out to be a surprise. “Anyone know if it’s true that he knocked a bigger guy out cold after a few hits?”
Jungkook nodded and he proceeded to ramble on about how the soft, adorable blonde turned out to be quite the skilled fighter and had an impressive physique. Before all the fights took place, many had been quick to write him off as someone who would land himself in the infirmary right away. You leaned against the wall with an amused look, suddenly reminded a bit of Namjoon with his surprising talents that everyone else overlooked.
“I can’t believe he wanted to go darker,” your co-worker from the hair salon sighed. “His hair was so nice...but he insisted on the darker color. I mean, the black looks good on him too, but he made a sweet blonde.”
You nodded, distracted by something you needed to talk to Bud about regarding a malfunction with one of the tattoo needles you noticed during a test. As you rounded the corner, you nearly walked smack into a dark haired young man.
“Sorry,” you muttered as you managed to back up a few steps. You got a better look at him and blinked when you realized it was Jimin, now sporting black hair instead of the blonde.
“Hey Jimin, you still happy with the black?” your co-worker asked.
He nodded with a smile before addressing you, bowing his head as he apologized for almost walking into you.
“It’s all good,” you said, waving it away as nothing. “Ah, you’re the Amity guy.”
Your co-worker looked at you exasperated and lightly nudged you in the arm. “That’s who I was talking about Y/N!”
“Sorry! I was thinking about one of the needles – Bud needs to put in a work order request for some Brain to come in and fix it!” you explained, throwing your hands up.
Jimin tilted his head as he watched you two go back and forth, taking this moment to excuse himself.
“It can’t be!” Bud said when he saw someone in blue approaching the tattoo studio.
You emerged from the back and stared in shock when you spotted the familiar face. Putting your water bottle down, you walked over and hugged Namjoon.
“I volunteered – by the way, Max doesn’t know I’m here,” he explained once you pulled away. “I thought, if anyone’s gotta fix something at Dauntless, it’s going to be me.”
You smiled and guided him over to the station where the problem was. Namjoon set his bag down and began pulling tools out as you explained the problem.
Eventually, Jungkook joined you and greeted Namjoon, hanging around to watch as his elder took apart the tattoo equipment and discovered an issue within the digital interface. He began rewiring it and shared updates on his new life within the research libraries at Erudite.
“I miss the cake,” he sighed as he accepted some water from you.
“How’s the soda?” Jungkook asked.
“It’s different, but the Dauntless cake is always the best,” Namjoon replied.
You lowered your voice and said you’d sneak him some cake before he left. He flashed his dimpled smile at you and asked how the initiates were doing.
“Pretty good crop of recruits,” you noted. “Apparently an Amity transfer has really been killing it in the physical fights.”
Namjoon nodded as he began to reattach the exterior covers to the equipment. Jungkook added that Jimin had quite an impressive physique from the sounds of it – something that seemed like he had the beginnings of before becoming a Dauntless transfer.
“It’s possible he might have built muscle from lifting crates of fruit and vegetables,” Namjoon reasoned as he straightened up. “I’ve noticed many Amity build muscle mass if they’re constantly lifting heavy loads on a regular basis and they are the foundation for our food sources these days. Which means a lot of food.”
You nodded and glanced over your shoulder when you heard lots of noise and cries coming from outside the studio. Both you and Jungkook stepped away to see what the commotion was and you nodded when you remembered it was Visit Day, meaning the family members of transfers from your previous faction would pay you a visit.
“Visit Day already huh?” Namjoon called out from the studio.
“Yeah I guess it is,” you remarked. “I sort of forgot all about it, but it’s been a while since my initiation.”
Namjoon nodded as he hung back for a moment, fixing his glasses on his nose. You reassured him that Max wasn’t out there and he nodded, deciding it would be a good time to slip out unnoticed. Remembering you promised him cake, you asked him wait a minute before running off to the dining hall to grab a slice.
After a few minutes, you emerged from the dining hall, carrying two slices in hand. The extra slice was for Jungkook, seeing as he’d probably pout and demand to know where his piece was. You paused when you heard sniffling and you backtracked, heading for the direction where the crying was coming from.
Sitting on the floor was Jimin, eyes closed in an attempt to fight back tears, and his knees drawn up. You slowly approached him and you asked why he was here.
“I think most of the family members from past factions came,” you said.
He shook his head and swallowed hard, trying to steady his voice. “Mine...mine didn’t come today. I...well, I can’t say I blame them, they were really disappointed I left.”
You sucked in a sharp breath and sighed, your heart starting to ache for him. While you didn’t know what it was like to be separated from your family, you knew it was hard for Namjoon and Tori, the latter who also did tattoos for the Dauntless. Both left their factions and never saw their parents again after they made it into Dauntless.
“Hey, Jimin is it? Look, I’m sorry your parents didn’t come but they shouldn’t hate you for making the best choice for your life,” you reasoned. “It takes a lot of guts to change factions and I respect your decision to join us.” You glanced at the plates in your hands and held one out to him.
“Have some Dauntless cake – it’s the best,” you said with a smile.
He opened his eyes and blinked when he saw the plate. He started to protest but you insisted, saying it was really good and one of your favorite things to enjoy when things were a bit rough.
“I need to run, but keep your head up,” you told him as you ran to catch Namjoon.
“I definitely do not want to become a piercing artist,” Jungkook concluded after his homework one day.
“I’m guessing you talked to my colleagues over there?” you asked.
He nodded and made a face, muttering that the job was very hands on and gross at times. “I don’t wanna pierce someone’s nipples or something else,” Jungkook shuddered. He changed the subject and shared that he had some design ideas that he ran by Bud for the studio.
“Ah Bud said you’re quite the artist,” you replied. “So he’ll take you if you pass initiation?”
“Yup! Then I can help noona in the studio,” he said. “I know I want you to do my first tattoo when Umma says I can get one. I just don’t know what I would want.”
“Your birthday will be here before you know it,” you reminded the young man. “But until then, you got plenty of time to think it over.”
Jungkook nodded and he lowered his voice, saying that he heard from Namjoon, who thanked you for the cake. “That reminds me, where was my slice that day?”
You stared at him and reminded him he was old enough to walk to the dining hall to ask for his own slice of cake. You never told him or anyone else that you had given away his slice to the transfer in an attempt to cheer him up.
“Noona, if...I chose to leave Dauntless, would you hate me?” Jungkook spoke up all of a sudden.
You turned to face the younger male and shook your head. “I can only wish you the best if you chose another faction and I’d be happy if you did it because it was the right choice for you.”
"You got any bets on who’s staying?” someone from the hair salon asked you.
You shook your head and said you’d save your points. You declined their offer to join the announcement in dining hall, stating that you were the only one in studio today. (Bud was sick and Tori was at the infirmary for a rash.)
Thankfully the studio was quiet and you enjoyed being able to tidy things up and work on your design submissions to share with Bud for the boards. You nursed a mug of tea in your hand as you studied the details of a complex design you were trying to finish a few days ago. You took a sip from your mug and looked up when someone cleared their throat to get your attention.
“Hi Y/N noona,” Jimin greeted you as he stepped into the studio. “Are you still open?”
You set your mug down and nodded, closing the sketchbook before walking over to him. “Nice to see you again – was the cake good?” you asked.
Jimin beamed at the memory and nodded, saying that it was quite good. “Oh um, thank you for listening to me that day,” he added. “I appreciated it.”
“Of course,” you replied. “I’m guessing you want a tattoo?”
He ran a hand through his hair and nodded, explaining that he had put off getting one until he was absolutely sure of what he wanted. “Since I’m officially a Dauntless now, I thought it would a nice thing to mark the occasion,” he explained.
“Congrats, well you can check the boards, unless you got an idea in mind?”
Jimin pulled out a piece of paper and handed it over, which you unfolded and found the word ‘nevermind’ written in all caps. You nodded and pointed to your chair, asking him where he wanted it on his body. You walked to the sink to wash your hands and retrieve a clean pair of gloves.
Jimin sank down in the chair and tugged his shirt off. He rested his head against the back of the chair and watched as you returned.
“Here,” he said, gesturing to the right side of his rib cage.
You blinked as you stared at the area he was pointing to. You met his eyes and clicked your tongue. “It’s a painful area to have your first tattoo,” you warned him. “Are you sure you wanna suffer through that for your first one?”
He nodded and you rose to retrieve a set of temporary mouth guards to prevent teeth grinding while you worked on the area. You passed them to him and explained that they would help him from clenching or grinding his teeth during the procedure.
He accepted them and removed them from the plastic sealed package. He separated them out and began to set them in place on the top and bottom portions of his mouth.
“You sure you’re okay?” you asked as you scanned his face while working on the first two letters.
He nodded with a set stare, hissing as the needle made contact with his skin. He stared straight ahead, taking deep breaths as you worked on the letters.
“I’m going to take a break halfway through,” you informed him. “You should drink some water before I finish the word – it’s a long time to go without it.”
He grunted and you commented that it was normal to take breaks in between complex designs or long words. Especially if they were placed in a painful area.
You kept the silicone pad that would block the area for you on his rib cage while you retrieved a glass of water and a plate to put the guards on.
“Stay on your side and drink slowly,” you ordered him.
He obeyed and popped out the guards, slowly reaching for the glass of water. He took a long, slow sip from it and sighed.
“I can finish the word in another session if this is getting to be too much,” you said. “Like I said, most people go with their arm, wrist, maybe a calf for their first designs.”
“No I want to finish it today,” Jimin insisted. “It’s important I have it done today.”
You nodded and watched as he drained the rest of the glass, setting it down.
“Why ‘nevermind’ if you don’t mind me asking?”
Jimin cocked his head toward you and replied that he heard it many times as of lately. “I guess...I want to say I got past some of the negativity surrounding that word that I’ve encountered,” he said. “My parents saying nevermind to me considering another life outside of Amity, the other initiates saying nevermind about me being a real contender, and...nevermind that I might not have many friends after initiation.”
“Well Jungkook’s already a fan of you and he doesn’t really know you yet,” you offered with an amused smile.
You took the glass and placed it in the sink. Jimin reached for the mouth guards and asked if that the young man who hung around the studio so much. You nodded and explained that Jungkook was a few years behind Jimin, meaning he would be doing his Choosing Ceremony in the upcoming future.
“He’s already trying to decide his job in Dauntless,” you explained. “By the way, do you know what you’re going to do?”
Jimin shook his head and confessed he needed to give it some thought. He placed the guards back into his mouth and prompted you to continue.
“I’ll probably need to sleep on my side for a while, right?” Jimin asked once it was finished. He admired the work in the mirror with a smile, turning to read the whole word.
“Sleep on your side, tattoo can’t get wet for 48 hours, and make sure to apply this to help with the redness and pain,” you replied, handing him a jar. “You handled it well I must say.”
He grinned confidently as he retrieved his shirt and slipped it over his head. As he tugged it down, he turned and asked if you were off soon.
“Yeah I think you’re the last one, unless some drunk idiot decides he needs one right this minute,” you confessed. “Why?”
He nodded in the direction of the dining hall.
“How about we split a slice of Dauntless cake? It sounded really good after sitting through all that pain.”
You lightly teased him, saying he wanted his tattoo on his rib cage. The young man pouted at your comment and you laughed as you joined him, walking in the direction of the dining hall.
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INNER CHILD
I feel numb. I don't know why. Usually, I know why I feel what I feel, but not this time. I just can't seem to put my finger on it. I felt like expressing myself but I didn't feel like writing or creating. I reposted but it didn't suffice and so I find myself trying to spill my life's blood out onto pages, dipping my pen in my heart and pouring my soul out into some coherent pattern.
I do not write so that others may know how I am feeling but so that I may know how I am feeling. I always write on paper first and then type it afterwards - is that strange, in this world where the written word as we knew it is lost? - maybe, but it feels more personal somehow, like there’s more of me in it. It’s like it actually contains some piece of my heart and soul and passion. It is just how I write.
I do not know what I am doing with myself or where I am going. Maybe I should toss a coin or stick a pin in a map or pick a name from a hat or spin a bottle. No . . . I am master of my life and whatever I do and where ever I go it will be by choice. It might not be a perfect choice but when are there ever any perfect choices. There are none, only what we make out of the ones that we have. When has anyone ever had a perfect choice or a perfect life?
We all have our crosses to bear and our demons to face but that doesn't help me. It doesn't make me feel better to know that others are suffering too - quite the reverse in fact. I wish all those I love were where they wanted to be and with whom they want to be with, but they are not. I can only do so much about that, I can offer my hand should they wish to take it, my shoulder, my ear, my heart, my arms to hold and comfort them when they need to be held, but I am barely standing as it is. I will do what I can - little as it may be.
I am trying to gather my thoughts and marshal my emotions. They are screaming at me, I wish they would all stand in a neat little line so I could put little name tags on them, sort them all out and organise them into some sort of nonchaos, some semblance of order. They will not stay still, instead, they are all screaming at me, shouting at me at the same time, each vying for supremacy, each trying to out-do the rest by shouting louder than every other emotion. My thoughts are doing the same thing. It’s like they think that being louder than everything else gives them a right to be heard.
NO! STOP IT! BE SILENT! They are ignoring me like disobedient children standing in a sweet queue. Bastards, they will obey or they will know what for. I wish they would just be still for a little while. I am trying to gather my thoughts and marshal my emotions but I am not succeeding today - hell they have been running riot for weeks, swamping me and tearing at me, clawing at my insides and making me question my sanity. I cannot silence them and I do not know why. I wish, just for a little while, that someone would tell me where to go and what to do. Just for a short time. I do not need mothering, mollycoddling or wrapping in cotton wool. I am a man and I am in charge of my own life and my own fate. I just want a few pointers, a little writing on my wall, just to be led for a little while.
I think that everyone who has suffered great pain and trauma at a young age stops growing in some ways. They stay there, captured like an insect in Amber, frozen in time, forever paralysed, stuck there in that momentary snapshot of hell. A part of them remains there - forever child; he is there inside me, cowering in the dark, waiting for someone to come and turn the light on. Shivering in the corner of my heart waiting for some hero to come and chase away the demons and put the monsters that lay in wait to flight.
He calls to me to help him but I don't know how to, I cannot reach him. I try sometimes but I can't get past the barriers that he's erected. I can hear him whimpering sometimes when I am still, crying in the darkness, afraid and alone, terrified of everything, but what can I do for him? I can feel his fear, his heart beating a thousand beats a second, hammering in his chest, ready to explode. I can feel his pain, it courses through him and from him through to me but I cannot comfort him. He talks to me sometimes, or at least he tries to, creeping forward to the front of my heart and mind. He whispers to me "where are you taking me now"," I don't want to go", but I ignore him.
STOP! He shouts at me like being assertive will have any effect on me or hold sway over my decisions. I drag him kicking and screaming through whatever hell I am passing through. I try and talk to him, tell him about life. I try and tell him that you cannot let fear rule you, that it cannot be allowed to control you. That in this life you often need to do things that you are afraid of, but he doesn't understand me. I tell him that it is part of being a man but he just looks at me- "I am just a child" he says to me in that frightened little voice that he has.
I shout at him angrily, "GET AWAY FROM ME", and he does so hurriedly, retreating back into the corners of my being, whimpering like a puppy that has just been kicked. You need toughening up I say to him, you are soft and weak and I have no use for you- let me be. He cries but I pay him no mind. I am in charge of my life and my state of being, I am in control and there is no room for a democracy in this heart and mind of mine. I will not be second-guessed and questioned by this snivelling little malcontent inside me. Fuck me but I hate him sometimes. Why is he so afraid of everything, why can he not be just a little braver, a little tougher and a little bit stronger? I get so angry with him.
COWARD, I shout at him, simpering little good for nothing. He makes me so enraged- I wish he would fuck off and die but the little fuck up just refuses to leave me alone. I try to reach him sometimes, to reason with him and talk to him.  We need to join forces I say to him, but he doesn't answer, I can help you to be strong - no response - I can make the pain go away - nothing - he knows the lie for what it is. I open my arms to him and tell him that we need to be as one, that we need to reattach to each other in order to make ourselves whole again. He just cowers from me, still in pain from my previous harshness. Why can't he trust me?
I want what is best for us but he is not interested in what I think or say. I have let him down too many times before; left him beaten, broken and bruised, bloody and battered, cold and alone and numb to everything but pain, licking his wounds by himself in his own private hell. No surprise that he is wary of me now. He does not believe a word that I say to him. I wish to hold him and make him realise that everything will be ok, that it's just a matter of time. That he can trust again and this time it will be different. I can't reach him. Why is that? Why must he always hide instead of facing his fears and confronting his demons? I do not understand him or his fear. I face my pain head on, I take everything on the chin, straight up with no quarter asked and all he does is cower.
I try to tell him that life is hard and he needs to learn to be tougher.I tell him that when life kicks you in the balls you just need to grit your teeth, force yourself to smile and keep right on going. He says that I am insane. He says that when you get hurt you need love to make it better, tenderness to take away the pain and time to heal. What does he know- he is just a stupid child and a coward at that, but I can't get what he says out of my mind. It stays there bothering me, his simpering voice whining in my inner ear. Huh, like I don't have enough trouble with my thoughts and emotions at war with each other without having to contend with him and his weak ways. I scream at him "I AM MAN AND THERE IS NO ROOM FOR YOU HERE". He will leave me for now, shocked at my brutality and hurt by my callousness but I know that he is still there, cowering in the dark, waiting for someone to come and turn the light on. Shivering in the corner of my heart waiting for someone to come and chase away the demons and put the monsters that lay in wait to flight.
He calls to me to help him but I do not know how to, I cannot reach him. I try sometimes but I can't get past the barriers that he has erected. I can hear him whimpering sometimes when I am still, crying in the darkness, afraid and alone, terrified of everything, but what can I do for him? I can feel his fear, his heart beating a thousand beats a second, hammering in his chest, ready to explode. I can feel his pain, it courses through him and from him through to me, but I cannot comfort him.
He talks to me sometimes, creeping forward to the front of my heart and mind; he whispers to me "where are you taking me now", "I don't want to go". I cannot seem to help this frightened little boy and no matter how hard I try, I cannot seem to lose this inner child. And I want to lose him, to send him away and not think about him anymore, but here he stays, clinging to me, hiding behind me and peering at the world from behind my legs, hanging on to my shirt and running along behind me, complaining at the pace I set.
I do not wish for him to follow me anymore, so I do not slow down, but that doesn't seem to stop him. Whenever I turn around he is there, staring at me with haunted eyes and tear-stained cheeks, reproaching me for all the things that have happened. I try and shrug my shoulders and tell him that it is not my fault but the words stick in my throat, I am partly to blame and I cannot lie to him. I wish I could just shoot him and end his interference in my life. I would like to speak to him harshly and leave him by the roadside on his own but I can't do it. Somewhere inside I have compassion for him and maybe a little pity, but one day I will lose him and continue this journey alone. HA, one day- I have told him that before and yet he is still here beside me, cowering inside me, hiding behind me. I have said it to myself before, too many times in fact, but without any conviction. I think he needs exorcising or something. He needs to be dragged kicking and screaming from my being, for this inner child is slowly killing my inner man.
Am I wrong? Am I being obtuse? I have tried to get rid of him this way before but to no avail. Am I butting my head off a brick wall trying to deal with him in this way? I have a sneaking suspicion that he needs to grow and to grow he needs to learn to trust and to trust he needs to cling to someone far kinder and softer than I. I think he needs to be coaxed and enticed out of his hiding place, out in to the sunlight where there are no more shadows, no more darkness and no more monsters to send him diving for cover. I think that he needs something more than I can give him, something far more tender than I have inside me. I am only harsh with him, trying to give him rules, regulations and regimes, discipline and structure. I try to teach him of responsibility and duty, of honour and truth, but he keeps on avoiding my eyes, his gaze drawn to the sight of childish things, to balls and cars and colouring pencils, climbing frames and slides, swings, kites and round about’s. "Teach me to play," he asks me shyly. I look at him in disbelief. I am trying to teach him things that will see him through this life and all he wants to do is to play.
Does he not realise what it takes to be a man, that these things that I am trying to drill into him are important, that they will make him a man one day- tall and strong, trusted and respected, honest, proud, decent, reliable, responsible and valued. Does he not know that he has a duty to himself and to his name, to me, to be the best that he can. Games!! What the fuck do I know about games and the playing of them? I could cry. This is going nowhere. We seem to have reached an impasse, stalemate, he will not grow unless I can teach him to trust and laugh and play and I do not know how to show him these things. I was never taught them and I have not learned of them since, I have no knowledge to impart on this subject. No matter how I try and steer the subject back to duty and honour I cannot help but feel inadequate. 
I am at a loss as to what to do with him. All I do is lose my temper with him at the slightest bump in the road. Every molehill is a mountain and I cannot keep my cool with him. I want to shake some backbone into him but he knows that look in my eyes and is always ready to run. He is faster than I am, or he always knows what I am thinking and is ready to jump just out of my reach. Sometimes my fingers brush his tattered t-shirt and I almost catch him, but I never do. I have grown tired of chasing him, tired of arguing with him. I am weary of trying to teach him and train him. Exhausted by this endless game of wits with him, of trying to earn his trust but having nothing to offer him other than sinking sand, there is no safe ground under my feet for him to climb onto should he take my hand.
All my foundations are shot and sinking faster than I can rebuild the walls. I raise them metres a day but I am still sinking down slowly, inch by inch, centimetre by slow centimetre. He perches on the decaying walls of my inner man and flicks the crumbling cement at me, picking it from between the cracks with his fingers before throwing it at my feet with a sly smile on his lips. Does he know something that I don't, maybe he is just biding his time and willing me to fail.
He thinks that maybe I will join him where he is, that we could both live in fear, but he does not know me if he thinks' this. I cannot spare him the time - I am busy trying to hold up my reserves of strength and failing. Trying to keep my inner man sane and failing. Trying to be the man I aspire to be and failing. Trying to hold on to the characteristics I value and failing. Trying to retain the traits that took me a lifetime to acquire and failing. Trying to be more than statistics say I should be and failing. Trying to be greater than the sum of my parts and failing there too. Trying to reach the mark that I measure myself against but falling short. It is always there just above me and forever out of reach. Everything is slipping between my fingers like fine silt, carried away on the breeze. I long to just open my fist and let it all just blow away, to stop clinging to my inner being and the person that I strive to be. I do not know why I cannot do it for I have tried before but something always stops me.
Maybe it is my inner child. I do not want to give him the satisfaction of seeing me fail. I look at him perched there all serious and silent, staring at me with those big haunted eyes. I wonder what he wants and if he will ever get it. I hope so because sooner or later one of us will lose this battle and there is only room enough for one of us here inside me.
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italicwatches · 5 years
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Megalobox - Episode 12
Right now, we need to put the polls out of our mind. And we do that with our fists. It’s Megalobox, episode 12! Here we GO!
-Yukiko’s signing a big deal for the company…At least, if Yuri actually wins his big match. After the signing, she and Yuri are celebrating…But of course, there’s big questions looming. If this is going to work. If the potential of Gear to do so much more than just boxing will be realized. They could change the world, Yuri!
-Yuri’s going to have his Gear removed.
-Pardon?
-He wants…needs, to fight Joe on an equal battle. Man to man. Just muscles and will. It’s the only way.
-Opening!
-Yukiko’s boggled. Integrated Gear is a one-way deal. Having it removed is absurdly dangerous, the sort of thing you’re only supposed to do in a medical emergency. But Yuri’s resolute.
-She’ll, she’ll have the finals canceled! She won’t allow you to risk it—
-NO. He won’t allow you to disrespect the ring like that. Not after a man put his life on the line to get there with nothing but his wits. …He’s not coming back to this office.
-What happened to their dream, Yuri…?
-It’s your dream, now.
-The doors shut, on Yukiko’s impotent rage…And then it’s a hard cut to Joe’s rather more potent rage, as he tries to burn off his frustration and tension and everything else on the bags. What happened to Nanbu. His chance to finally fight Yuri right. The stakes of this big final match. What it could mean for him if he wins…And what it will mean for everyone else if he fails. It’s…All of it’s a lot.
-But he’s not going at it alone, either. Because he’s joined by Aragaki and the caretaker. Nanbu called them to help him train. Aragaki’s going to help him spar against someone who can keep up better than a bag.
-So it’s into the ring. Both men wish they could’ve gotten to finish their fight legit, one way or the other…And so they’re both at it, practicing and working, as Nanbu and the caretaker talk. To think of how far they’ve all come…How different things were not that long ago…And how hard they’ve all fought, how much they’ve all lost, to get here.
-Miles away, Mikio’s at his swank-ass cabin…When Yuri shows up. It’s a place Mikio’s been working on, his home away from home…Or maybe just home, now. A place where he can be alone. No Shirato company, no legacy, no worry. No Shirato Mikio, just plain old Mikio.
-But of course, he’s still Mikio. And he’s set up a little lab in the cabin’s basement. A lab…And a medical facility. He can disconnect the integrated Gear. Doing this is dangerous, of course, risky…But Yuri’s not hesitating. They’ve all put everything on the line for this final match. You with developing Ace. Joe with going in Gearless. And now…Him. It’s time to pay his due.
-That night, Yukiko’s lost in thought out on the roads…As she remembers Joe, Junk Dog, challenging Yuri so long ago. It flashes in her mind, in her eyes, as for a moment she swears she can change it, can call out to Yuri, can keep him from being swept up by this dog and led astray…
-Then it’s over. And her cell’s ringing with a number that has no caller ID, an ancient-ass landline.
-A call that takes her to the cabin, to see Yuri out cold and Gearless. Mikio’s surgery was a flawless success, but Yukiko can only see the way he’s throwing away the future over some ridiculous pride. She’s going to cancel the finals. She will not have the final match, the proving grounds of Megalo Box, the place where Gear is pushed to its limits, fought by two men going Gearless.
-Mikio just reminds her how much pain Yuri’s gonna be in when he wakes up. How much he’s gone through. Are you going to deny him now, of all times…?
-Megalobox, Round 12. Leap Over the Edge of DEATH
-Back in Yukiko’s office, she’s looking up all the real info on the men she’s dealing with. The ID, stolen from Sachio when it slipped free, is counterfeit. The name Joe, an alias. The only thing they can say for sure is he’s an illegal citizen, with no right in their ring.
-But…He’s got it where it counts. He did all this to fight honestly. And for the first time in far too long…Yukiko doesn’t know what to do. All she can ask is to keep all of this under wraps, from everyone, until she makes the call.
-Back under the bridge. Joe’s working his ass off with Aragaki, while Nanbu flashes back, remembering where he found the kid…
-In the pits. Below the pits. Junk Dog…No, he didn’t even have that name, yet. He was less than a dog, less than the races and so far below underground Megalo Box. He was a bare knuckled brawler, getting into scraps for pocket money with just some hand wraps. Nanbu found this nameless scrapper, and pulled him out of those depths…
-Back in the Now, Nanbu calls out to Joe. You’re not stepping through with your punches! How the hell can you…
-He can hear it. Your impacts have about as much force as a cow fart. Now get your weight even again, and lock in those punches!
-Eventually, it’s late as hell, everyone’s done. Joe’s looking over Sachio’s recording of his practices, the kids are scraping together a big ol’ pot of stew, and Aragaki just…Watches. Sees the team, the family, that has forged themselves here. …They might just be able to do it. Joe might be able to beat Yuri.
-Speaking of Yuri, he’s…
-Uh…
-How do I put this gently…
-In screaming agony locked in a sealed room so he doesn’t kill anyone or himself in a pain induced rage.
-Listen that was about as gentle as it gets. It’s not just his body that’s screaming at him, it’s his mind. The integrated Gear works based on hooking directly into the nervous system, into introducing new data into the backstage of the mind. Yuri’s head is screaming at him that he’s missing limbs, that he’s missing his body.
-Eventually he’s just lost in his own skull, in a fugue state as he feels his body burst into flame, into molten rock as he burns up from the inside and turns to ash…!
-And when Yukiko gets there…He’s been in that state for five, days. Can’t they do anything?! Can’t YOU do anything?!
-Mikio could absolutely do something. He’s got the injector right here, full of the same little cocktail he used when overdoing it in Ace. All he’s got to do is pop it into Yuri’s neck, and ping, guy’s settled. But Yuri said no. Refused it outright. Said he didn’t deserve to fight Joe if he couldn’t get through the pain the old fashioned away.
-So here they are. You want to try? See if you can convince him to take the dose? Key to the door’s right there.
-She gets in there, and finds him half conscious…She cradles Yuri in her arms, and begs him to let her take him out of there. To get it all reattached, and keep chasing the future. To stand together again.
-He manages to stir, and he’s got enough of his wits to recognize her and his situation…To tell her about the long ago, before she knew him. When he was first getting into boxing. His first trainer said, if he ever met the kind of fighter that he wanted, truly, to fight and to try and beat, to push himself to face, that it would be blessing. One to cherish, and one to never let go…
-Yukiko. You gave him a reason to live. But this…This is his reason to fight. You can’t take that away…Not now…Please.
-Eventually, morning comes. Yukiko stirs on the shitty couch in this cabin, and there’s no more screaming. Yuri’s mind has finally rebooted. And he’s moving like his old self…The self she saw in that gym so long ago, the man whose body glistened with the sweat of hard work and made him look like some muscle-bishonen…
-Her grandfather was still the president, and introduced his granddaughter to his prize fighter. He saw them both as the future of the company’s designs, even then…
-In the Now, after watching for a time, Yukiko takes her leave…Maybe things will change. But for right now…She has no place here. Her company is seeking the future of Gear, and a man with none on his back is no part of it. …Treat him well, brother. He deserves it.
-Down by the bridge, Joe’s taking a nice long swim in the river. Shouldn’t you be training? Nah, not this close. Against a man like Yuri, he’ll get his most benefit just by clearing his head and cooling his nerves. Now come on, Sachio, get your ass in the water and enjoy yourself!
-But that’s when they both spot Yukiko…She’s come to return Joe’s fraudulent ID. And? And…That’s all. If anyone’s earned the right to keep this, it’s you. You sure about this, when he’s punching your fancy champion’s teeth in?
-He’s not her champion anymore. Yuri had the Gear removed.
-HE WHAT
-He wanted a real fight. An even match. He’s just another bare-knuckled boxer, now. Just so you know what you’re in for.
-And then she’s gone, leaving Joe to realize…That changes thing. Now he’s got a true fire burning in him, as he shadow boxes late into the night, against the song the people will sing of their final bout…Whatever’s coming? Whoever will walk out of that ring?
-They’re, gonna, make, history. The world of boxing will never be the same after this. And every last soul watching the lead with baited breath, knows it.
-Credits.
OH SHIT MY DUDES
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