We're finally back to shorter and more light-hearted stories. I'm posting just four this time, but the rest of the chapters will have five each.
Sorry about how useless #012 is. I wrote several different one-shots for this prompt, but I had to scrap all of them because they didn't work. I have no personal experience with alcohol and no amount of research I did made me feel I could convincingly write about someone being drunk. The one here really is the best out of the ones I tried.
Note: #015 deals with complete mind control. There's no sex, but it can still be triggery, so skip it if it's not your cup of tea.
ME MONTY, YOU AMY
012-015
012: I'm drunk
Monkey Fist didn't usually drink much, at least unless he was certain he was alone and would go undisturbed for as long as he wanted. Being a ninja, he cherished his body and sharp mind more than anything else. They were his tools of trade, and he had to be able to face any opponent at any time if he wished to remain on his destined path. One drink too much could make him just a little slower or clumsier, and that could very well be his death sentence.
On the other hand, there were things that even the bravest of men couldn't face without the support of some mind-numbing substance. One such monstrosity had been chasing him the whole day, popping up at just the wrong moments and forcing him to flee. He had lost two contracts with crime bosses he had hoped to assist for some much-needed cash – his recent encounter with Possible and the pretender had resulted in the utter destruction of his jungle lair and massive veterinary bills for his monkeys.
He was currently in his room in the hotel where the villain convention was being organized. He was nursing a glass that was half full (or half empty, as he preferred to think in his current state of mind) with some alcohol whose brand had escaped him. He didn't care what it was as long as it was strong and would get his mind off Amy for a moment. He needed and more than deserved a moment for himself.
Thankfully, he was alone. Everyone else was gathered in the convention hall where they had just started handing out prizes for the evillest laugh, the best underwater lair and other such nonsense. Monkey Fist was certain that Amy was there as well, not because she hoped to win anything but because she loved cheering and congratulating the others.
He took a careful sip of his drink. He wanted to make it last and enjoy the slow, warm feeling that was spreading all over him. Monkey Fist had always been of the opinion that drinking too much or too fast ruined the experience and was more becoming of lower class scum than a man of his status. This way he could keep note of his state and stop before he drank too much.
He simply couldn't understand why that woman kept chasing him. He had never made any promises to her. Amy had seemed like the perfect professional when they had worked together. She had never tried to touch him inappropriately, except for those times when they had made a break-through and she had wrapped her arms around him so that they had both fallen on the floor. He hadn't minded because he had been equally excited, but that was just two like-minded people being happy about their success, right? There was nothing more to that.
"I certainly never made any promises to her," he muttered to the glass in his hand before taking another gulp. Despite his anger and frustration, he was starting to feel comfortably relaxed.
Just where had Amy got the idea that they were compatible in any way? They had such different goals and approaches. Perhaps the only thing they had in common was that they both thought genetic mutation was something admirable, but even that was an issue they couldn't entirely agree on. For Monkey Fist, genetic alterations were a tool that gave him new abilities and helped him move towards his destiny. Amy, on the other hand, didn't know how to hold back and wouldn't stop until she had spliced every gene in her subject. It had taken him over a week to convince her that he didn't want a tail.
"If it only were that easy to convince her I don't harbour feelings for her," he said, continuing to talk to the glass in his hand. It was empty now, so he reached for the bottle and filled the glass again. The idea of having to face her yet again to tell her the same truth over and over made him feel bitter, so he downed the contents of the glass in one go.
He didn't know how long he sat there, feeling angry and sorry for himself. He was in the middle of another refill when there was a sudden knock at his door. Monkey Fist almost dropped the bottle in sudden fright. It had to be her! Nobody else had any reason to come to his room. She didn't have the key to the door, but he knew that wouldn't hold her back for long. His only chance was to escape through the window.
Monkey Fist jumped to his feet, rushing for the window. Or rather, he tried to. When he rose from the chair, the world suddenly took a spin, like the floor was moving. He grabbed the table for support, managing to knock it down. The bottle fell and rolled away, but it was almost empty so not much was lost.
Had he really drunk that much? Monkey Fist swore under his breath. He couldn't remember, and his head felt all muddy and heavy. It was just like Amy to infiltrate his thoughts and destroy his sense of self-control. How was it even possible for one person to make his life so miserable?
"Honey bunny, what's that noise? Are you okay?" Amy asked as she stopped knocking on the door. What was going on inside? Was he fighting with someone? Maybe he needed her help. "Don't worry! I'm coming in!"
She told her newest friend, a gorilla/poodle creature called Damien, to open the door for her. Monty had forgotten to give her a spare key to his room, but that was probably because he was so busy. Every time she had seen him in the villain convention this weekend, he had always been running somewhere.
When she entered, she found Monkey Fist lying on the floor, but there was no sign of his assailant.
"Oh, honey bunny!" Amy exclaimed and rushed to his side. She was about to pull him into her arms, but then she suddenly jerked away when she noticed the smell on him.
"Have you been drinking?" she asked. Her eyes moved between the bottle, fallen furniture and the man currently lying between them. What was going on? She knew it wasn't like her Monty to get into a sorry state like this. He was too proud and always in control.
"That's none of your -" Monkey Fist started, but he was immediately cut off by her.
"That's not good at all! Drinking isn't nice; it makes you violent and grumpy," Amy said with a stern shake of her head. She didn't really have anything against alcohol, but she didn't like it how it often brought out the worst in people when they had too much of it. Just looking at her cuddle monkey was enough proof of that; normally he would have never let her see him vulnerable like this.
"You must be really worried about something. Why didn't you come to me? Talking is always the best option. Drinking doesn't solve problems. It only creates more," Amy continued. It was clear to her that something was very wrong, and it hurt her that Monty had rather turned to the bottle than her. Surely the bond between them had to be stronger than that.
"I'm not drunk," he muttered. She thought he was probably feeling embarrassed and guilty because she had caught him at a moment of weakness. She had to smile at that. Her poor honey bunny, always so proud and stubborn.
"Nonsense, honey bunny. You have to take better care of yourself. This just won't do," Amy said sternly.
"There is nothing wrong with occa- sional drinking," Monkey Fist argued. He looked foreign to Amy. He spoke slowly, and there was a dull look in his eyes. He wasn't even trying to edge away from her when she came close. Normally Amy would have delighted in being able to hold him, but she knew this wasn't really him.
Amy huffed. "No, but you shouldn't try to drink your problems away," she said.
"What problems? I… don't have any-" Monkey Fist protested, but Amy cut him off.
"You've been avoiding me the whole weekend. I know it's hard for you men to talk about your feelings, but I don't want you to turn to alcohol for comfort. You can talk to me, honey bunny," Amy said.
Monkey Fist groaned at that and buried his face in his hands, looking like a man caught in utter despair.
"It's hopeless!" he cried. "You'll never get it!"
"Oh, honey bunny! You poor thing! It must be harder for you than I thought!" Amy said, all annoyance on her face transforming into loving pity. She frowned at the unhappy man before her, not knowing what to do. She hadn't realised that talking about his feelings was so hard for him. No wonder he had finally succumbed to alcohol for support.
"Leave me alone," Monkey Fist said. His tone sounded so pitiful to Amy that she decided to do just that, this one time. She didn't want to wound him any more by continuing to witness his misery.
"Alright, honey bunny, but you have to promise that you're going to get some sleep and that we'll talk tomorrow. I can't let you go on like this when I know I'm the source of your worries," she said.
Monkey Fist made a sound that somehow managed to sound pained, angry and frustrated at the same time. Amy forced him to get up and go to bed, which he did as soon as she threatened to tuck him in herself if he didn't obey. The panic that showed on his face at that moment hurt her a little – did Monty perhaps think she'd use him when he was like this?
"Come on, Damien," she said softly to the gordle as she slipped out of the room. A feeling of unease rested upon her. She had had no idea that Monty was going through such a hard time. Somehow she'd have to make him see that there was no danger in opening up to her and admitting his feelings. The fact that he had sought relief from alcohol of all things proved just how much he needed her. No matter what, she'd be there for him.
013: I want to hurt you
DNAmy rubbed her eyes tiredly. It was weeks since she had last had a good night's sleep, and the nights spent lying awake were starting to take their toll on her. She knew she had become snappy. She no longer felt like greeting her Monty with a kiss every morning.
It's all his fault anyway, she thought bitterly as she glanced at her lover's sleeping form.
She knew Monkey Fist probably had no idea what he was doing to her. He was so egoistical and self-centred that he never stopped to think about the consequences of his actions and how much he could hurt others. Amy had known that when she had got into this relationship, but she had thought that her love could endure anything.
She wasn't so sure anymore. She could have never prepared herself for this.
She had tried to talk about it, but it was like he was deaf to her accusations. There was absolutely nothing wrong with him, he always said. All the problems were only in her head. He was perfect. Amy didn't let it show, but she was certain that their relationship would not last if she couldn't make him admit his flaws and start treating her better.
She frowned in utter annoyance and gave Monkey Fist a gentle poke. No reaction, as usual. The big meanie probably delighted in ignoring her whenever she had anything negative to say. Sometimes, when the night was at its darkest and she had again spent hours thinking about his complete lack of understanding for her feelings, she felt like taking her revenge. How she would have loved seeing him tortured by those same doubts and worries she was!
Feeling the countless sleepless hours weighing on her back, she decided that enough was enough. She couldn't take this anymore.
"Stop snoring!" she yelled and hurled a pillow at his face.
014: I am awake and you're breathing
It had been Lord Montgomery Fiske's full intention to keep this a perfectly professional relationship. He wasn't even attracted to the woman. Her saccharine personality made him want to choke on his tea and crumpets, and he could barely stand her company for longer than five minutes without getting a blazing headache.
Yet he was now lying next to her in her bed. She was sleeping peacefully, snoring a little and snuggling up against his arm, like she couldn't be without cutesy cuddling even in her sleep. The blanket had half fallen off her, offering him unlimited view of her round curves.
He wasn't sure how it had got to this point. He had taken her out to dinner to discuss the mutation procedure he wanted done on his hands and feet. They had had a great time; she had been very enthusiastic about the project and he had been glad that he had found someone who understood his desires that well. They hadn't drunk much, or at least he thought so. He didn't like clouding his judgement and making his body clumsy, so he was always careful about that.
He recalled he had offered to walk her to her hotel. Then she had asked him inside because she wanted to show him some papers and figures that she thought were relevant to their project. She had said that she was glad for this opportunity as she hadn't had much work after being fired from the university. He had said that she was the first person who took his project seriously at all.
He supposed that they had both been enchanted with the feeling of kinship. From what he had gathered, she had always been regarded a bit odd, and her colleagues had ridiculed her for her dedication to her work and collectibles. He had enough sense in his head to realise that the changes he wanted to make his body go through were abnormal in the eyes of most people, and he hadn't expected that he would meet someone who was just as excited about his plans as he was.
Then she had had her hand on his thigh, and she had turned to look up at him with hopeful and inviting eyes. He had hesitated for a moment, knowing that it would only lead to trouble, but he had given in when he had seen the desire on her face. It was too long since anyone had wanted him like that; they were usually after his money or thought they'd get into high society through him. It was actually very flattering that someone wanted just him.
He didn't regret what had happened; he had enjoyed himself. He was certain that after this she would be even more dedicated to helping him. However, he knew things like this couldn't last. He had no time for a relationship at this stage of his plans, and he didn't like the idea of chaining himself to someone or something.
Sooner or later, she would come asking for more, having interpreted this night the wrong way. He had no idea what he could say to her. He didn't even know what to say to Bates in the morning. The valet was sure to wonder – but never ask – why his master had not returned home for the night.
He glanced over to his side and saw the happy smile that was playing on her freckled face. He supposed the hopes of her thinking of it as a one-night stand weren't very high. Somehow he'd have to break the news to her, but not yet. Not until she was done with the mutation procedure.
He tensed when she suddenly moved her arm and let it rest on his chest. For a moment he considered pushing it aside, but he didn't want to trouble her and wake her up. Talking would be a bit too awkward right now.
Her skin against his started to feel normal after a while, and he allowed himself to relax again. He rarely let people get this close to him. All his past relations, even back when his eyes had not yet been opened to his destiny, had been careful and hasty. He enjoyed the act as much as any man would, but the emotional closeness made him feel uncomfortable. Most people were fools, and he didn't want to get too attached to them. It would only hinder him on his quest for greatness.
I should tell her that I'm only using her to get what I want, he thought. It would hurt her, but it would solve the problem neatly. They would never have to meet each other again, and he could direct all his efforts on his plans. He was not above doing something like that. He knew he'd do much, much worse in the future if everything went like he was envisioning.
He turned to look at her smile in her sleep and tried to imagine the hurt that would twist her face when he told her the truth. Oddly enough, he didn't feel very bothered by that, even after she had given everything to him and let him this close.
She stirred a little and looked up at him with half-open eyes.
"Monty?" she asked sleepily.
He smiled reassuringly at her.
"Just go back to sleep, Amy," he murmured. "I'll be here."
015: This is my desperation in action
Monkey Fist growled under his breath as he struggled against the straps that were holding him still. Every part of his body was tied down; he couldn't move his feet, hands or even lift his head. Being immobilised and unable to defend himself filled him with a sense of helplessness that was threatening to turn into panic, so his only option was to grow angry instead.
"Is anyone in here? Let me go at once!" he yelled to the empty room. It seemed to be a laboratory of some sorts. The walls looked sterile in their white and grey colours, and every piece of furniture had such a lack of personality that everything seemed surreal. Monkey Fist was used to darker colours and bizarre decorations and style, so the room he was trapped in made him just as uncomfortable as hospital rooms always had.
Someone had captured him. His memories of the battle were a little foggy, but he could remember being suddenly attacked by several disguised men. He and his monkeys had fought back, but then someone had hit from behind and… Here he was. Who could have done this to him? Monkey Fist knew he had quite many enemies, but this type of attack was uncharacteristic for most of them. Possible and Stoppable certainly wouldn't charge at him like that. Nor would they tie him down in some mysterious room that looked like it came straight from terrible science fiction.
He continued struggling for several moments longer, but then he had to give up and accept that he wasn't going anywhere. All he could do was wait for his captor. Since Monkey Fist was not a particularly patient man, this only increased his anger and frustration.
After some time, a door on the opposite wall finally opened. It was the exact same colour as the walls, so Monkey Fist only now realised its existence.
"You! I should have known!" he barked when DNAmy stepped through.
"Hush, don't yell, honey bunny. I mean you no harm," she said.
"Then how come you've kidnapped me yet again? How many times do I have to tell you that it will accomplish nothing?" he asked. He wasn't even aware of it, but he started his futile struggle again, desperately trying to free himself so that he could get away from that unstable woman.
"I only want to talk. You're always running away and I can't tell you how I really feel," Amy said.
"I don't care! I know what you want, and you will never get it! I'm not interested!" Monkey Fist yelled. How was it even possible that Amy kept coming back to bug him when he had made it perfectly clear what his feeling for her were? Why could she not act like a reasonable human being and just accept that she couldn't have him?
"Please, listen. I know I've been a little annoying and you probably feel like I've driven you to a corner, but that's just because I really love you. You're the most important person in my life, and I just want you to be happy," Amy said, coming to stand by his side and placing her hand on his. An involuntary shudder went through him.
"If you cared about me at all, you'd leave me alone," he said.
"Monty-"
"No, really! I don't love you! I never have and never will! Accept that and find someone who is stupid enough to like you!"
Amy grabbed his hand so tightly that it hurt. "But I can't! I love you! Nobody else is like you!" she wailed.
Monkey Fist couldn't understand what she saw in him in the first place. They had barely anything in common and were completely opposite personalities. What she loved, he hated and vice versa. He would rather go through terrible physical torture than spend a single moment in her company as the victim of her loving attentions. Even if he had liked her, he wouldn't have given in. He was destined for great things; he didn't have the time for something as insignificant as romance.
"Can't you please give me a chance? I promise I'll do everything you want," Amy pleaded.
"No. Now let me go!" Monkey Fist snapped.
"Please!"
"No!"
Amy let go of his hand and took a step back. She looked to be on the verge of tears but somehow she managed to hold back her sobs. She took off her glasses and wiped her eyes with her sleeve, letting out a disappointed sniffle. Monkey Fist resisted the urge to roll his eyes at her dramatics.
When Amy put her glasses back on, there was a new, cold look in her eyes.
"I didn't want to do this, but you're giving me no other options," she said.
"What do you mean?" Monkey Fist asked.
Amy pulled out something small and red from her pocket. It looked like microchip to Monkey Fist, but he was no expert on such things.
"I got this from Drakken. He used them in the past and had one to spare," Amy said.
"What is it?" Monkey Fist asked, eying the chip warily.
"A mind control chip. If you can't love me on your own, I'll have to make you," Amy explained.
Wait, what?
Monkey Fist could only stare in horror as she approached him with the chip in her hand. He felt the panic come back and this time he didn't even try to hold it down; he fought against the straps with all his might and desperately tried to break free, even as he knew that he never would. She couldn't do this to him! She was supposed to be pathetically nice and friendly to everyone!
"Keep that thing away from me!" he snapped.
"I'm really sorry, honey bunny. I love you," she said and pressed the chip on his forehead.
There was a brief flash of pain inside his head and his body went entirely limb. Monkey Fist tried to, but he couldn't will a single muscle to move. He could still feel, hear and see everything, but he had no control over anything. He was trapped within his own mind.
That woman! I will kill her! When I get free from these bindings, she will learn what pain is, he swore to himself. Somehow he'd just have to overcome the chip. And once he was done with Amy, he would go to Drakken and show the scientist just what he thought of these types of plots.
"Monty? Monty, look at me," Amy said.
He turned his head.
Amy smiled at him and took his face between her hands. Monkey Fist felt disgusted beyond belief, but his body wouldn't shudder or retch. If he only could have turned his head or snarled at her to take her hands off him, but no. Even when she loosened the straps around him, he could only lie there and wait for her commands.
"Honey bunny, come with me," she said.
He got up and followed her out of the room. He saw that they were in one of her hideouts and that the interiors of these rooms and the one they had just left were like night and day. Here the walls were a warm shade of brown. Pictures of various bizarre animals Amy had created were hanging on the walls and the air smelled faintly of cinnamon biscuits.
Amy took his arm and leaned against his shoulder. She released a happy sigh and led him to what looked like a living room. There was a large sofa with plush pink pillows, and she told him to go and sit on it. It suddenly occurred to him that she could make him do anything, absolutely anything, when he was in this state. Horror images of what she might want from him were flashing through his head, and it didn't help at all that she sat down by his side and snuggled up close to him.
"Honey, put your arm over my shoulders," she said, and he did. He was afraid that she would ask for something more, but she seemed content with only this mild form of affection. He did his best to move his arm or find the strength to tell her to stop this at once, but it was like he was entirely paralyzed. It was just as frustrating as trying to move a body part that didn't exist.
This was maddening! He had no way to do anything with the rage that was bubbling inside him. He would have never thought that anything could be this terrible.
Amy giggled as she traced figures on his chest with her finger. "Isn't this nice, cuddle monkey? Just the two of us," she said.
No. He hated it. Please let it end.
"From now on, I want you to treat me like I were your girlfriend. You need to cuddle with me, bring me flowers and kiss me every morning. I want you to tell me that you love me," she instructed. Though he felt sick just thinking about it, Monkey Fist knew that he would do all of that and more if she just asked. Every command she gave was being registered into the chip that controlled him.
"And then we can go to Cuddle Buddy conventions together! And watch TV together! I'll bake us some cookies. We'll have so much fun!" she went on, blabbering about the wonderful plans she had for them. Every word that left her lips made him more and more desperate; there had to be a way out of this situation. She couldn't rob him of his life like this! He had a destiny to fulfil!
"Monty, do you love me?" she asked.
Monkey Fist gathered all of his willpower to say no. Couldn't he be allowed even that one word?
"Yes," he heard his voice say.
"I love you, too," Amy said and sighed happily.
He wished more than anything that he could have strangled her.