Kevin the Bored
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93 Smut for £25, Just Saying........
🕑 Added 2023-06-19 19:34:32 +0000 UTCAs I'm making my way back to our meeting point, dressed in casual clothes with a hat on to keep myself inconspicuous, I abruptly pause as a strange feeling overcomes me, like something is happening.
It's hard to describe, like I'm hearing something that isn't there. My brain telling me to listen and my ears not knowing what they are supposed to be listening to.
The street isn't exactly crowded, but there are plenty of people around and none of them seem to feel that anything is amiss, so I briefly consider that someone might be using a parahuman power on me specifically, or at least a large area power that is subtle enough that only I am noticing it.
But then I notice some shattered glass on the ground vibrating so slightly that I would never have noticed it if I wasn't actively looking for something to be off.
That gives me my answer as to what is going on and I decide to hasten my pace to quickly reach some guy who's loading a chair into the trunk of his car.
"Excusa!" I exclaim, putting on a Spanish accent as I do so before grabbing his shoulder once he turns to face me and throwing him to the side, his chair with him.
As he starts shouting complaints at me, I just pretend not to understand.
"Lo siento! No hablo Ingles!" I yell over him as I start climbing into his trunk, closing it behind me right as a thundering crash rings out, swiftly followed by even louder screaming.
Obviously broken glass isn't going to hurt me, that much was established with Shatter's failed test, but I have ruined enough nice clothes already and I want to actually have these ones for longer than a day before I have to find more, again.
Seriously, I am beyond jealous of people like Alexandria, who's Brute rating extends to cover their clothes.
It's not even an uncommon thing either, you can generally tell whether or not a power will cover the clothes on whether or not they regenerate.
Because us regenerators' powers tend to only effect the body, while pure invulnerability type Brutes rarely have to worry about their costumes tearing.
Lord knows the amount of pictures of wardrobe malfunctions from Alexandria there would be on the internet if that was the case.
I wait for a couple of minutes to pass so that my clothes don't just get shredded once I leave the trunk before I exit, only for the trunk to not budge when I push on it.
Right, trunks auto-lock, forgot about that.
'So much for disguise then', is what I think before punching up, my fist making a hole clear through the back of the car.
With a horrifically loud screeching sound, I bring my other hand up and tear open a hole in the trunk to climb out of.
The sight that greets me makes it seem as if I did a Narnia or something as the street is completely unfamiliar.
Instead of the street of just a moment ago, filled with wondering commuters and people enjoying a day out with their friends, what I see is more akin to a warzone.
The storefronts, previously filled with colourful displays, now show nothing but shattered stores with their big glass windows reduced to nothing but holes, showcasing only desolation.
The streets themselves are even more drastic of a change.
The people who were previously walking sedately along, chatting and laughing and just living their normal, everyday lives, are now spread out into crowds, most of whom are either screaming or otherwise writhing around in pain.
Every single one of them is caked in blood, looking as if they've been flayed a thousand times, something not too far from the truth, while anyone who was wearing glasses is now lying on the ground, clutching at their face as blood streams down like a set of crimson tears.
Idly, I notice the guy whose trunk I hid in is lying still in a puddle of his own blood, most likely dead.
Looking away from the unfortunate casualties of Shatterbird's announcement, I turn my eyes down the street to where a veritable wall of glass is rising to the skies in a wave of calamity.
Glancing around, I see a similar scene happening all over the city, pillars of glass rising, and rising to form a whirlpool in the sky and I know without checking that the PRT building is sitting right below the centre of the whirlpool.
Not because we are going to end the fight so quickly, but just to make a point.
'We are here, and there is nothing you can do about it.'
After admiring Shatterbird's work for a moment, I cast another quick glance about, noticing a few of the less injured people looking at me with a mix of hope and fear, clearly separating the pessimists from the optimists.
However, I just give them a shrug and pull the cuffs of my fancy leather jacket to straighten it out, and turn on my heel, continuing my day as if nothing happened.
As for these losers? Well, I simply don't care about them, I'm not hungry after all.
With that, I keep walking, keeping an eye on Shatterbird's display as it grows larger and larger, an entire cities worth of glass floating in the sky, hundreds of metres wide but with most of it being concentrated directly above the PRT building.
Such a pretty sight. I should give her a compliment when I see her, I'm sure she'll appreciate the validation with how vain she is.
Aren't I such a good friend?
Speaking of, I was actually planning on giving Jinx a call to let him know I'm still alive, though I figure he'll find out on his own once proper news can get out of this whole thing I've got going on here.
But now that Shatterbird has fucked up the city, I don't know if I can actually get a call out. There is probably a way, but to be honest tech has never been my thing, so I'm kinda in the dark here.
However while I am terrible with technology, I am really good with people, so all I'll have to do is find someone who 𝘤𝘢𝘯 get a call out, and then ask them nicely to help me.
When has asking nicely never worked?
A few minutes of walking later, and I am dragged out of my thoughts by a rather rude person completely lacking in manners.
"You've gotta run!" Some guy shouts as he collides with me, grabbing me by the shoulders and turning me around to run with him.
I allow it, since I think I have an idea of why he's running, since he's coming from the direction I was heading in.
Still, best to ask.
"Why are we running!?" I shout at the frantic guy even as he continues to drag me down the street, eyes wide as adrenaline pumps through him.
"It's the Devil! They're here! Sinners, all of them! We have to run!" He says, his words a rushed mess.
However before I can even come up with something witty to say, the building in front of us explodes outward in a shower of rubble, bringing us to a screeching halt.
As the dust starts to settle, the man starts violently shivering until he simply slides down to the floor, falling backwards onto his ass with a single terrified whisper.
"𝘖𝘩 𝘓𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘷𝘦, 𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘺 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦." His words swiftly become so quiet as to be unintelligible, yet his lips do not stop moving in prayer, even as his eyes grow unfocused, staring at nothing.
'Well, that's interesting,' is all I think as I watch the Christian's mind break apart from overwhelming fear.
My own reaction is completely polar to his, as when I turn to the settling cloud of dust I simply raise one of my hands in a two fingered salute.
"Yo, Crawler. You having fun?" I ask as Crawler steps forward, going from threatening to casual in the blink of an eye.
"Oh hey Tear. Was wonderin' what you were up to." His grating, monstrous voice is completely at odds to his casual greeting in a way that I still find amusing.
"Oh I was just giving my candidate their test. They're more interesting than I thought they'd be, a little boring though, not very expressive. What about you guys? I know Mannequin was prolly doing the same as me and 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦 knows what Shatterbird has been up to, but what about the rest of y'all?"
I wait for Crawler to reach me before I turn back around and we both start walking back to the others side by side.
I almost forget the Christian and have to quickly run back a few paces to grab him, though Crawler is nice enough to wait for me to catch back up before we start walking again.
The Christian seems completely out of it, living in his own world, so I don't bother to kill him yet. Fresh food is always preferable. Cooking the meat boils away the blood if you do it for too long while freezing it causes the blood to expand, bruising the meat.
So fresh is best.
"Well, Hatchet Face ran off to find his candidate, and probably kill them too, the rest are just waiting around for now. Oh yeah, almost forgot but Bonesaw finished making her whatever it is that she's makin' to spread the thingy out to the city. I don't know, a lot of 'sciencey' words I can't remember, gist of it is that her thingy that she's cooking should have started spreading out by now."
Such a good silly little dog you are!~
I wonder if he'd bite my arm off if I try to give him chin scratches?
I think that's a risk I'm willing to take, but I'll wait till we're not walking around so I can properly treat him like a good boy if he is receptive to it.
Seriously, Crawler is like, the perfect dog and Siberian is basically a sexy mute woman that acts like a cat, except I might be able to fuck her, but that's entirely dependant on her really.
A girl can hope though.
Can't fuck Crawler though, the dude doesn't even have a dick anymore, probably 'adapted' it away since it's not like it helps in a fight or for survival in general.
Not that it would really matter anyway since he doesn't seem to even have a sex drive.
Wait, now that I think about it, am I the horniest person in the group?
Ah, no, never mind. Due to a general preference of not thinking about him, I completely forgot about Hatchet Face.
Dude fucks a 𝘭𝘰𝘵 and I am certain that it has never once been consensual, not with a face like that at least.
Plus he has that weird thing about corpses.
Eh, I shouldn't kink shame, I got turned on by Siberian eating my fingers after all, so I'm not exactly one to talk.
So lost in my thoughts was I, that I don't even realise that we've made it to where we're staying, some recently abandoned apartment block, until I am brought out of my thoughts by the pain of one of my fingers being removed.
Looking forward, I see Siberian in front of me with one of my hands held to her mouth and I idly notice Crawler behind her, settling in to get some rest.
The pleasureful pain of losing another finger snaps my attention back to Siberian, who is giving me another one of what I am starting to realise is a pretty common intense look for her.
"Hey sexy, what a coincidence, I was just thinking about you.~" I seductively purr at her as I take a step closer, wrapping my free arm around her waist to get a handful of her ass, which she allows to be squeezable, instead of her default immovable.
I take that as a sign of affection and give her a sultry smile as we stare deeply into each others' eyes.
At the same time, the others in the room all just pretend not to notice us, while we just don't care about them.
Unfortunately, things don't escalate beyond her simply enjoying her daily meal, as part of our deal, and me enjoying the feeling of her body.
My god, I'm going to need to find someone to fuck because the amount of sexual tension this damn Tigress is building up in me is insane.
It's a shame that I can hardly read her at all, I have no idea if pushing her to go further would even work at all. I mean, for one she is stronger than me by a literally infinite distance, so I quite literally could not move her without her allowing me to.
Not to mention, if I piss her off then I will not only be ruining this incredibly erotic relationship but I'd also have the issue of an invincible woman trying to rip me to pieces, something she would not struggle to do.
You know, when people used to talk about relationships being hard back in school, I somehow don't think this is the kind of situation they had in mind.
Ah well, the challenge will just make the reward taste all the more sweet.
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A/N: He~llo! Dear readers!
Did I purposely focus on horny stuff at the end there with the hopes of someone bribing(£25 for the first one) me to write a smut chapter? Who knows? Certainly not me *whistles innocently*, see? That whistle was innocent, even the narrator agrees!
My fucking god, what am I doing? Like, do you know how insane it feels to write sometimes? There is no narrator, that's just me. and in all the dialog? That's all just me, everything they say is all me. It's just me talking to myself constantly. Do no other writers find this to be as insane as I do? I'm literally having conversations with myself, FLIRTING, with Myself! WHO THE FUCK DOES THAT!?! Insane people! That's who!!
....I'm losing my mind, I'mma just end the note here, enjoy, I guess...
