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softscummymammon · 3 years

Text

€Unexpected Acquaintance€

Assisted by:: @jinjinjinjin

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Sukuna just wanted this day to end. He was already in a bad mood from the storm last night, where he got little of his much needed sleep, and his mood had only gotten worse when he was faced with a bunch of "nature friendly" bastards protesting near the docks where his boat was tied down.

Now, he just wanted to get his daily load of fish for the market, and have a nap without dealing with any other goody two shoe hypocrites. He could already feel the headache building up behind his eyes.

Though the gentle rocking of the boat over the surface of the water did ease him slightly. People besides other fishermen were always so confused when he actually said something about himself and it happened to his be career in fishing. They were always so astounded when he said he could stay on a boat for a whole day. Weaklings, all of them.

Rubbing at his sore eyes, Sukuna glared at the surface of the horizon and took a sip of the alcohol in his canteen. Tucking the tin back into his wader's pocket, he patted the pocket for safe keeping.

Walking to the front of the boat, he checked his net markers he left a few days ago. Sukuna gasped when he saw his marker bobbing up and down frantically. Getting his equipment ready, he tugged on some gloves and grabbed at the net right under the marker.

Taking a breath, Sukuna started tugged on the net. Grabbing every piece of net coming from the water, Sukuna huffs as he pulls the net further and further from the water. The sound of splashing water reached his ears and he smirked in victory.

Putting all the access netting into one hand, Sukuna quickly reaches behind him for the mechanical hook. The machinery on his boat was built and bought by him only, so only he knew how it worked. By reaching for the net first, he can easily tie the access onto the hook and pull up the rest of it out of the water.

Doing exactly what was needed, he tied the net to the hook and grabbed onto the leaver and started cranking the leaver clockwise. The machinery raised the net out of the water better than he ever could. The load he hauled onto his deck made him smile and rub his hands together gleefully.

" This shipment is definitely worth a pretty penny. Now, all I gotta do it sort you out, fish sticks. "

*Slap* "Who you callin' fish sticks, blubber mouth?! "

Sukuna froze. Looking up, he raised his hand to his face and wiped away some water the fish that had been thrown at him left on his cheek. Peering down at the fish now flopping on his deck, he gave the thing a death glare; as if that would give him any answers. He must really be going crazy-

"Up here, blubber-for-brains. "

His eyes snapped up towards the voice. But the air in his lungs escaped as if they were punched out of him. A human(?)'s upper torso was visible at the top of the net. It was leaning against the hook of the machinery and was throwing and catching a fish in its hand.

Sukuna raised a brow, " What the fuck? "

The thing raised one of its brows back, " Nice use of language, Oh Smart One. I thought you humans were supposed to be intelligent. Though, every one of your kind I've encountered uses fowl language, so smarts must just be a myth. "

Sukuna growled at the things snarky commentary, " Oh yeah? And what kind of intelligent creature like you gets stuck in a fishing net, huh? So much for being smart. "

The thing snarled, showing off rust colored stained teeth dyed by no doubt blood as sharp as many of Sukuna's own fileting knives. It held tightly onto the fish in its hand, " Watch your mouth, human, I still got a whole lotta of ammo here, and your face is lookin' like a big ol' target from where I'm sittin'. "

Sukuna rose an unimpressed eyebrow and pulled out a harpoon gun he kept in the captain's quarters, " Mine hurts worse. "

The thing flinched back and hissed at the gun, but slowly set down the poor he probably squeezed to death in his panic. The thing made a whiny sound in the back of its throat, " I didn't choose to get stuck here. I was getting chased by some shark mers. Those nasty ones only know the smell of blood and the next potential meal. I'd choose to be anywhere else right now, trust me. "

Sukuna huffed, " Yeah, sure. " Putting away the gun, Sukuna sighed and looked back up to the sulking thing. Looking closer, he was the slightest shine of scales decorating the cheeks, neck, and forearms of the thing. Its eyes were steely and sunken in, as if it's seen things beyond it's life time.

Sukuna chuckled upon realization, " You're a mermaid, aren't you? "

The mer scoffed, " Merman, thank. But 'mer' is just fine. I still don't get why ya humans always gotta gender code things. Damn, just call us what we are? "

Sukuna chuckled again, " What? Nuisances? "

The mer hissed again, " We wouldn't be if ya humans knew to keep to yerselves. Ain't this section of the coast off limits to fishers like yerself? "

Sukuna shrugged, not giving an answer. The mer scoffed and crossed it's arms over it's chest. Sukuna looked at it up and down, taking in everything he could. He hummed delightfully.

The mer must have caught on, " What'cha lookin at me fer? Think I'm some sorta snack for yer to eat? "

Sukuna shook his head no, " Nah, I was just rememberin how much one of your kind goes to sell on the blackmarket. You gotta be worth something. No rich bastard would give up the opportunity to call a thing like you pet. "

The mer's eyes went thin, but already creamy skin paled considerably, " You wouldn't... "

Sukuna rose a brow, " Oh, and why wouldn't I? I could definitely use the money. "

The thing stayed quiet, before it soon started to shake. Sukuna was about to sneer and comment about it being weak, but paused when a face formed from agony and rage shot up to glare at him. Sukuna had to keep himself from tensing and tried to look as calm as he could be.

The mer growled, " That's all that ya humans are. Selfish and greedy monsters only willing to do something if you get money in return. Do you know how many of our kind is sacrificed, hunted, and killed just so the others can live? Just so you humans can play god and reap what we mer's sew. "

Sukuna gulped, remembering the auction show he was emailed an invite to since he contributed a large amount of fish to the CEO of the company. It was a disgusting show of wealth. How millionaires and billionaires fought over a small little thing that held a resemblance to the one right in front of him.

The mer wasn't done, but tears of grief started to roll down it's eyes, " How many of our guppies, our children, are pulled from our arms to be sold like live stock?! You are no better! "

Sukuna had enough of this tantrum, " Do not bundle me with those people! I'd never harm a child, even if I am considered a monster by other people. I will not allow it to be done by a fish like you! "

The mer shrunk back, breathing irregular and struggling, like a faint wheeze. It swallowed roughly and looked away. Sukuna rumbled, now over flowing with guilt he felt he should not harbor. Looking back up, he became slightly alarmed at the shallow and wheezy breaths the mer was taking.

Mer's need water, his mind supplied. Sukuna growled, and hackles raising when he caught the mer flinching again. Walking away from the net, he went down below deck on got out a giant glass tank he kept in case he needed to keep a fish alive for more profit.

Taking it up the stairs and on to the deck, he set it down on some secure boxes and grabbed a bucket to start filling it with water. He had to make haste though, or the mer would die from drownin? Suffocation? And all of this work would be for waste.

Once the tank was full and covered from the beating ray of the sun, Sukuna walked over to the leaver controlling the hook and rotated it counter clockwise. He watched as the machine lowered the net onto the deck and he let go of the leaver. Once the machine stopped, he stepped up to the net and untied it.

Being this up close and personal to the mer, he watched as the sun made the scales look iridescent. Slipping his arms underneath the torso of the fish being, he pulled it out of the other fish and dragged it towards the tank. The mer roused slightly, trying to fruitlessly push Sukuna away. The bigger man scoffed and dropped the mer into the tank.

The reaction was instant, the mer took a deep breath through the large gills covering it's side and it slumped against the rim of the glass tank. Sukuna watched, looking at the mer's tail that could he classified as art in itself. It was beautiful, though he would never admit it. The thin tarp Sukuna draped over some boxes didn't stop the light from the sun bouncing off the glittering scales.

Sukuna's gaze went back up to the mer's face, startling to see the mer was also looking at him. It's hair fell in it's face, blocking out most of it. It puffed, blowing some of the strands out of it's eyes to get a better look.

Sukuna hated the way his chest constricted at the show. The mer raised a webbed hand, and Sukuna slowly took it and shook it. He made a face when he pulled it back and fake gagged at the slimy feeling left on his skin. The thing laughed at his disgust and shook it's head, getting water everywhere.

It smirked, " The name's _____ _____. What's yours, blubber man? "

Sukuna sneered at the nickname, " That's not my name. It'd Sukuna Ryoumen, nothing else. "

The mer smirked, " Well now I gotta call you that every time I address ya. "

Sukuna growled, " Don't you dare. " The glint in the fish's eyes didn't quell any of the building dread that sat in the bottom of his stomach. He really debated on if he should sell the fish or not.

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#anime headcanons #jjk x male reader #ryōmen sukuna #sukuna ryomen #x male reader #male character #mermaid male reader #sukuna ryoumen x reader #sukuna x male reader #tw blood #tw gore #tw fishing #tw harmful endangerment #alternate universe

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marauderundercover · 3 years

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The Strings that Bind Us: Ch. 17

Day 17: Carving

AO3

Getting three boys with very different sleep schedules up and ready for an early morning flight is not easy. The entire family stumbles through the airport, barely put together as they make it to the gate just in time. Marinette huffs and turns to Bruce.

“I am never letting you plan our flight again.” She says, eyes narrowed.

“Oh, come on, love, it’s not that bad.” He says. She snorts.

“You’re lucky I love you.” She says, passing both her ticket and Jason’s ticket to the lady. The poor kid was practically sleeping while standing, and she was all but dragging him along. She’d carry him, but he was taller than her now. Growth spurt and all that.

“Maman, tell Dick that he is insufferable.” Damian demands crankily, a scowl on his face. Marinette glances at the shit-eating grin on Dick’s face and sighs.

“Dick, sweetheart, could you refrain from picking on your brother until after I’ve had coffee?” She sighs, helping Jason fasten his seat belt so that he can go back to sleep. She sets a blanket on top of him and kisses the top of his head, satisfied that he would be able to sleep now.

“I swear M, your blood has to be at least 85% coffee at this point.” Dick teases and she grins.

“Darn, guess I’m slacking. Better double my caffeine intake.” She says, snorting at the panicked look on Dick’s face.

“Wait, no-”

“Don’t worry Dick, she’s not actually going to do it.” Bruce says. Marinette raises an eyebrow. “Right?” He adds. Marinette just hums, settling into her own seat next to Bruce, grabbing onto his arm so that she can cuddle him and (hopefully) go back to sleep. She sighs in content as she feels him press a kiss to her head as she drifts off to sleep.

---

The next couple of months fly by, a blur of happy memories. Shortly after getting back from Paris, they manage to adopt Tim (thanks to Adrien, honestly). She also officially moved into the Manor around the time they adopted Tim. It wasn’t a huge change for her or the boys, it just meant she could finally stop forgetting things across town.

Summer zipped by, with first her birthday, then Tim’s, and then Alfred and Jason’s. There was an odd feeling hanging in the air on Jason’s birthday, as if the world was trying to figure out what to do with him. As if it knew he wasn’t supposed to be there. Marinette shoved that feeling away, using a little luck to make it leave the Manor. She didn’t care what the universe thought, her son deserved to be with his family on his fourteenth birthday. He deserved happiness and she’d be damned if she let some balance bullshit try and take that away.

End of summer brought October. Which meant it had almost been a year since Batman crashed onto her balcony. As she stands in the kitchen, grinning at her boys all sitting either at the counter or on the counter, she can’t help but feel extremely lucky. And loved.

“What’s on the agenda for today, M?” Dick asks, taking a sip of his hot chocolate. Marinette grins. The first and third Saturday of every month, Dick had promised to come over and have family time. Usually during the day, it was with his brothers and Marinette. And then a full family dinner in the evening. Slowly, but surely, the strained relationship that Dick and Bruce had had a year ago was healing.

“I was thinking we could carve pumpkins! I’ve never done it before, so I thought you boys could show me.” She suggests, frowning at the near identical winces from the three oldest boys.

“My parents weren’t really the ‘carve pumpkins together’ type.” Tim says softly. Jason nods.

“Yeah, same.”

“We were usually in rehearsals all month, or traveling to a new city. We didn’t really have time to stop and carve pumpkins. Wouldn’t have really had anywhere to keep them anyway.” Dick says.

“Can we use knives?” Damian asks, and despite every fibre of her being telling her to deny her youngest son access to knives, she says yes.

“Of course, minou. But we all need to have patience, because none of us have done this before, so it’s going to take a little bit of trial and error.” She decides before sending them off to get dressed and ready for the day before getting ready herself. She makes sure to dress warmly, as it was starting to get chilly in Gotham once again. A million different possible designs for her pumpkin run through her head. This was probably going to be their most relaxing Saturday in awhile. After all, they were just carving pumpkins. What could go wrong?

---

So much could go wrong. Marinette had her arms wrapped around Jason, trying to keep him from attacking Dick. Damian was attached to her leg, everyone was covered in the disgusting, slimy guts from the inside of their pumpkins and everyone was also screaming.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Dick? That shit is disgusting!” Jason screams, thrashing around to try and get retaliation for the glob of pumpkin that coated his hair.

“Oh, suck it up, Jay. You started it.” Dick retorts, wiping pumpkin off his face.

“This is not enjoyable.” Damian declares, his face twisted with annoyance as he tugs on her pants leg and points to his shirt which was, yup, covered in pumpkin guts. Tim just kept muttering to himself, something about miscalculations, as he stared at his pumpkin covered hands. Marinette was trying, desperately, to gain some form of control over the situation. Before Bruce, or god forbid Alfred, got home. She didn’t want to be banned from the kitchen, but it was looking more and more likely.

“Boys!” She finally yells, raising her voice up so that she can try to be heard over the screaming match between Jason and Dick. Everyone freezes and looks at her. “Okay, now, I understand that this got a little out of control-”

“A little?” Dick snorts, clamping his mouth shut at the look Marinette gives him.

“Anyway, yes, it got a little out of control. And I do not want to be banned from Alfred’s kitchen. Do you know what that would mean?” She asks, raising an eyebrow.

“No more cookies from Maman?” Damian says, and Marinette nods solemnly.

“If I’m banned from the kitchen, I can’t bake here.” She says. As if launched from cannons, the boys jump into clean up, their fight forgotten for the moment. Sighing in relief that it actually worked, Marinette rushes into helping the boys. Once the kitchen was spotless, save for the five new Jack-O-Lanterns on the counter, she sends the boys upstairs to shower and change since they were all still coated in pumpkin guts. Maybe carving pumpkins wasn’t her best idea.

---

Finally making it home an hour before dinner, Bruce frowns at the silence when he walks in. Despite his constant reassurance that she didn’t have to ask, Marinette never used any of the cars without asking. Which meant, in theory, she was still at home with the boys.

“I believe they are all in the theatre, sir.” Alfred says, a small smile on his face as he greets him.

“Thank you, Alfred.” Bruce says, nodding at the man before heading to the theatre. Pushing the door open, his heart warms at the sight. Marinette was sitting in the middle seat of the couch, Jason on one side leaning against her shoulder, and Tim doing the same thing on the other side. Damian was on her lap, and Dick was sitting on the floor leaning against the couch so that he was still close to everyone else. And they were all asleep. Bruce grins, pulling out his phone and snapping a quick picture. He knew Marinette would love it. The ring that he had hidden upstairs suddenly pops into his mind, but he pushes the thought away. They had plenty of time, there was no sense in rushing into things.

“Hey.” Marinette says softly, grinning at him. He smiles back.

“Did I wake you?” He asks, keeping his voice soft to avoid waking up the boys.

“I wasn’t really asleep. Just...resting. It felt too peaceful to try and actually pay attention to the movie.” She admits,

“Would you like me to leave you until dinner, then?” He asks, suppressing a snort at the pout that immediately appears on her face.

“No. I want you to join us.” She says. Bruce scans the couch and his family, trying to figure out the best way to do it without waking someone up. Taking a deep breath, he somehow manages to shift everyone so that Marinette is in his lap, and the boys (minus Damian, who was still clutching onto Marinette) were leaning against him.

“How long can we stay like this?” Marinette asks.

“We have an hour until dinner.” Bruce says, and Marinette nods, cuddling against him. Try as he might, Bruce can’t stop his eyes from fluttering shut, feeling completely at peace. Taking in a deep breath, he lets himself drift to a light sleep. --- BONUS Alfred glanced at the picture on his desk, smiling softly at it. It was his new favorite picture, and once Master Bruce finally gave Miss Marinette the ring, he would pass along a copy of the picture. After all, it was their first family picture.

Tag list: @maribat-october-rarepairs @ashbrea381writings @jayjayspixiepop @toodaloo-kangaroo @galla02006 @ritacrow-blog @liquid-luck-00 @corporeal-terrestrial @crazylittlemunchkin @tazanna-blythe

Permanent tag list: @stainedglassm @kittenmywaythrulife @laydeekrayzee @doll246 @queenz-z @deathssilentapproach-blog @literaryhiraeth @unoriginalmess @kking13

#maribat #maribat fic #MaribatHalloween21 #maribatoctrp21 #maribat marinette dupain cheng #maribat bruce wayne #maribat damian wayne #maribat dick grayson #maribat tim drake #maribat jason todd #platonic timari #platonic jasonette #platonic daminette #platonic dickinette #brucinette #mominette

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ragingbookdragon · 3 years

Text

When The Music's Not Forgotten PT. 1

Green Lantern!Reader x Lantern Family Story!

Word Count: 5.3K Warnings: Explicit Language, Mature Themes, Violence

Author's Note: I legit had a breakdown trying to think about what to label this fic as. Almost put 'Batsis' but then I realized it's not Batsis nor Lantern!Sis so I was like...uh...what do I do? We'll figure it out. Enjoy! -Thorne

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Her first thought when she opened the front door to the Coast City apartment and saw her dad in a headlock by Kyle and Kyle in a headlock by Guy who was in one by John, who was in one by her dad, was: this is totally and completely normal.

The second thought: that nothing involving her father and uncles ever surprised her anymore, occurred to her as said father and said uncles stopped arguing with one another and cocked their heads up, looking at her, each of their faces exhibiting the epitome of “I got caught with my hand in the cookie jar” shock, in which she merely returned with a blank stare before closing the door behind her, marching into the kitchen with the grocery bags.

Of course, that also meant the second she did, they were stumbling in to explain what had brought them to the unfortunate moment of head-locking each other, but also to see what she’d bought and what she was going to cook for dinner. She paid them no mind, ducking under arms and between bodies as she maneuvered around them kitchen, putting things away.

Someone curled an arm around her neck, pressing their lips to her temple. “Hey Raptor.”

She smiled. “Hey dad.” Tossing a beer behind her, she added, “Uncle Guy. Uncle John. Kyle.”

Guy caught his beer, popping the tab, and Kyle looked at her, crossing his arms over his chest. “How come everyone else is ‘uncle’ and I’m not?” he looked hurt. “Am I somehow different, (Y/N)?”

She paused and threw another beer behind her. “Kyle, were almost the same age. I’m not calling you my uncle because John and Guy are older than both of us.”

“Not that much,” he griped, popping his beer tab. “It still hurts my feelings.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes and handed John the final beer. “Would it make you feel better if I told you I considered you to be my favorite cousin?”

Kyle smiled at her. “Yes, it would.”

She nodded then glanced at Hal. “Dad, tacos or burgers?”

“I dunno.” He said, glancing at the others. “You guys?”

“Burgers.”

“Tacos.”

“Burgers.”

She cocked a brow and looked at her father. “Seems like you’ll either make a tie or a win.”

“I have been thinking about good tacos, Raptor,” he replied, and she nodded.

“Tacos it is.” Guy and John groaned, and she shot them a glare. “Hey! Lock that shit up or I’m not cookin’.” Immediately they shut their mouths, listening to Kyle and Hal snicker. “Buncha children.” She griped, dumping the ground beef into a skillet to brown.

“So, (Y/N),” Guy drawled, leaning against the kitchen counter. And honestly, the entire kitchen was way too small for four grown men and a grown woman to be in at one time, but she’d gotten used to it, so why fix what wasn’t broke.

“So, Uncle Guy.” She repeated, shifting the meat around with the spatula.

“Why exactly did you start working at the Wayne Enterprises branch here?”

She could feel the eyes of her family on her back, and she couldn’t help but roll hers. “Maybe because Mister Wayne pays good salaries to his employees and his health insurance coverage is fantastic?” (Y/N) glanced over her shoulder. “But something tells me you’re asking for another answer.”

He grinned. “Which son of Wayne’s are you dating?”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes again. “I love you, but you’re an idiot.” She turned back to the pan. “I’m not dating any of his sons. Dick’s with Koriand’r, Jason’s a douche-bag, and their brothers are way too young.”

“Doesn’t he have a daughter?”

“Cass is dating a girl she goes to college with.” She took an onion from the basket against the kitchen wall atop the counter. “Keep digging though, Uncle Guy. You’ll hit rock bottom soon enough.”

“Does that mean you’re dating the big Bat?”

She almost cried from laughter as Hal choked on his beer and spluttered. “No. I’m not dating Mister Wayne. He’s old enough to be my dad.”

John chuckled. “I don’t know, (Y/N). When you first met Bruce at, what? Ten? You told him you were going to marry him.”

Her cheeks burned and she scowled at them. “I meant Batman because he was kind-hearted, and I was totally awestruck as a little girl. Let it go.” Her eyes fell on Hal. “Dad, tell ‘em to let it go.”

He nodded. “Please let it go.” Kyle started humming ‘Here Comes the Bride’ and while the others snickered, Hal screwed his eyes shut. “Oh God, stop. I don’t want to think about my precious baby anywhere near that anal retentive kitchen scale.”

The other snickered and before she could say anything, their rings started beeping. She looked at them as their faces turned solemn, setting their beers down as their suits flashed to life.

“Trouble on Oa,” John said.

“Gotta fly?” she asked, and Hal nodded, leaning over to kiss her temple.

“Gotta fly, Raptor.” He hugged her quickly and followed John and the others to the balcony. “I love you.”

“I love you too, dad.” (Y/N) waved. “Be careful, Corpsmen.” They all waved at her and took off, leaving her in the apartment alone and she sighed, turning back to the kitchen. “Another dinner…alone.” She couldn’t help but deflate. “Wonderful.”

***

She continued cooking for almost an hour when the balcony doors opened and closed, and she smiled. “Hey guys. You’re back rather early.” When she didn’t hear a response, she immediately fell on guard and she took one of the kitchen knives from its holder, brandishing it.

Carefully, she walked into the dimly lit living room, eyes scanning the expanse for whoever was in the apartment with her. None of the floorboards were creaking, no rustling of fabric or scuffing of shoes. It was completely silent, and that made her nervous.

Stay calm. The worst thing you can do in a situation when you need to be calm is to be panicked. Slow breaths. Keep focused.

She repeated his words in her head and shifted around the hallway wall, eyes peeled for trouble.

Small steps when sweeping buildings. If an enemy rounds a corner and it comes to close combat, you’ll want to be able to hit them and taking big steps causes instability.

(Y/N) crept down the hall and came upon the bathroom just beside her father’s bedroom door. Quickly, she peeked in, seeing it empty, then cross the doorway, pausing beside her father’s door. She inhaled deeply, then turned her head around the corner, seeing it empty and dark. The only room left was hers.

She crossed to the other side of the wall and hurried down to her door, and with another sharp breath, she turned and looked in. Again, it was empty. Confusion bled through her as she returned to the living room, the hand holding the knife lowered beside her thigh.

“That’s strange.” She murmured. “I thought I—”

“Heard something?”

She gasped and spun around, bringing the knife up, but they caught it with ease, squeezing her wrist until she cried in pain and dropped it. (Y/N) heard the clattering in her ears as they grabbed her other hand and shoved her down into the couch.

She started thrashing wildly, about to scream when she heard, “I thought I told you not to turn your back on people.”

(Y/N) stilled and turned her head, catching that stupidly smart smirk. “You fucker.” She cursed at him, torn between laughing hysterically and cursing some more. “I can’t believe you turned this into a lesson.”

He shrugged. “Had to know if you were learning any better.” Smiling at her, he quipped, “Your sweeping is great. Detection skills? Not so much.”

“Let me up, Jason.” she commanded, rolling her eyes and he snorted, letting go of her arms. Immediately, she spun and cocked her elbow into his jaw, smiling as he grunted in pain and grabbed it.

“Damn,” he hissed. “You’ve got elbowing down to an art.”

She grinned. “I’ve had a good teacher.”

They stared on another down for a moment, then all at once, they were yanking at shirts and unbuckling belts, grabbing each other, and tugging closer to one another as their lips met in a searing kiss.

(Y/N) shoved at the jacket on his shoulders, moving her lips to his jaw and he groaned, taking his hands from her hips for just a moment to pull the article off. He shifted out of reach, and she glanced towards the kitchen.

“I turned the oven off,” Jason muttered, yanking his crimson shirt over his head. “Figured we’d be too busy to eat dinner.”

She giggled and shoved him off the couch, watching as he scrambled to his feet; she stood and started pulling off her own clothes, first her shirt, then her bra and Jason almost collapsed at her feet when she tugged her pants to her ankles.

“C’mon, Jay, don’t be shy.” (Y/N) cooed. “Show me what you’ve got.”

He chuckled, and unbuckled his belt, letting it fall to the floor as he back-stepped down the hallway. “Oh, you want a show, Miss Jordan?”

She smirked at him and stuck her thumbs in the sides of her thong. “I’d love a show, Mister Todd.”

“I might made you beg a little for it,” he shot back coolly, toeing off his combat boots and she hummed.

“I will if you will.” (Y/N) said, watching his hands unbutton the charcoal-colored utility pants he wore.

“My eyes are up here.” Jason quipped, though he didn’t seem to stop as he shoved his pants down, leaving him in his boxers, and he hit her doorway.

“True, but my attention is elsewhere.” She drew her eyes up his toned body, internally smirking as he seemed to shiver under her gaze, and she pushed her thong down her legs. (Y/N) stood before him and reached out, placing her hands flat on his chest. He was so hot underneath her palms and she slowly rubbed her hands up to the sides of his neck.

“(Y/N),” he murmured huskily, arms winding around her waist, and she smirked.

“Take me to bed, Jason.”

Immediately, he bent down and grabbed the back of her thighs, digging his fingers in until she lifted and wrapped her arms around his waist. “With pleasure,” he purred.

***

By the time Hal and the other lanterns got back to the apartment, it was well into the morning, and he could tell that everyone just wanted to crash in exhaustion, too tired to even think about flying to their own homes.

He opened the balcony doors and let them inside. “Lemme get some blankets from the hall closet,” he muttered, voice as ragged as his body felt.

“Who the hell played strip poker in here?”

Hal looked up at Guy who was holding up a crimson t-shirt with a baffled expression. “What?”

Guy met his gaze then nodded down the hall. “Someone’s been tangoing.”

When he craned his neck to peek down the hallway, sure enough there was a trail of clothing leading down to her room. His eyes went wide, and he suddenly forgot about his exhaustion as he leaped over the couch and sprinted down the hall, the other Lanterns hot on his heels.

Hal skidded to a stop in her doorway and immediately screeched, “(Y/N) JORDAN WHO THE HELL IS IN YOUR BED?!”

The two young adults in the bed startled up, and she held the sheet to her chest as she gaped at her father. “Dad! You—you’re here!”

He gestured wildly. “OF COURSE, I’M HERE! I FUCKING LIVE HERE! WHO THE FUCK IS IN YOUR BED?!”

“Morning, Hal,” Jason greeted, with a mock salute. “How’s your day so far?”

“MY DAY?!” he bellowed, already starting for the young man, and John was quick to grab Hal around the waist. “LET GO! I’M GOING TO MURDER THIS SON OF A BAT FOR CORRUPTING MY DAUGHTER!”

“Excuse me,” Jason said, rather affronted, then pointed at her. “It’s (Y/N) who’s corrupted me.”

(Y/N) barely had time to hide her snort as she elbowed him in the side. “Shut the hell up.” She cleared her throat and looked at the men in her doorway. “Uh…can you close the door so I can get dressed?”

“CLOSE THE DOOR?! I’M GOING TO TAKE THE DOOR OFF ITS HINGES! YOU ARE GROUNDED, (Y/N) JORDAN DO YOU HEAR ME! YOU ARE—”

Guy and John dragged Hal off and Kyle shut the door but threw a thumbs up at Jason before he left.

***Part Two***

She tried to look anywhere but her father’s face as he continued to berate her and Jason. And honestly, he’d stopped making sense about thirty minutes ago and while she couldn’t look at her uncles for fear of bursting into laughter, Jason had no problems cracking a smirk at everything Hal was yelling about.

“—AND I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU HAD A BOY IN THE HOUSE!” he paused, horror drawing across his face, then it immediately turned into anger. “THIS ISN’T THE FIRST TIME HE’S COME OVER IS IT?! HOW LONG HAS THIS BEEN GOING ON?!”

Her face pinched and she inquired, “Which question do you want answered first? The one you asked when you first started yelling or the last one just now?”

“I am in no mood for games, (Y/N) Jordan. You brought a boy into the house without permission.”

“I am a man.” Jason interrupted.

She elbowed him in the ribs. “I didn’t realize I needed permission to bring my boyfriend into the house.”

“BOYFRIEND?!” Hal screeched.

(Y/N) blinked. “I’m confused. Are you angry at me calling him my boyfriend? Do you want me to call him my fuckbuddy or something?”

“HEY!” both Jason and Hal in unison and her father glared at him. “SHUT UP!”

“I don’t know what you want me to tell you, dad…I’m twenty-one. Having a boyfriend is a completely normal thing. Having a consensual sexual relationship with someone is a normal thing.”

Hal spluttered for a moment then pointed at Jason. “NOT WITH HIM!”

“What’s wrong with me?” Jason question, rather offendedly, then he held up a hand. “I mean, besides the obvious things that are wrong with me.”

“YOU’RE YOU! THE SON OF BATMAN!”

“I mean…” Jason drawled. “That’s technically debatable most days.”

(Y/N) looked at him. “You’re not exactly helping the case, Jay.”

“I’m not trying to.” He grinned at her. “I’m seeing if I can make your dad go red.”

She tutted at him. “Jason Todd trying to corrupt a Green Lantern into a Red Lantern. Shame.”

“QUIT DOING THAT!” Hal howled as they started snickering, seeming to get lost in their own little world. Suddenly, he was marching down the hallway and coming back with a cellphone.

They watched in confusion for a moment, then Jason’s eyes widened. “Oh no.”

“What?” (Y/N) worried.

“He’s calling B.”

“What.”

Hal put the phone to his ear and glowered at the two of them until the line clicked and he immediately yelled, “DO YOU KNOW YOUR DELINQUENT SON IS DATING MY DAUGHTER?...WHAT?! WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU ALREADY KNOW?!...EXCUSE ME?! WHAT?!”

He hung up the phone and set it on the table, then proceeded to turn around and grab a pillow from the couch, bringing it to his face. Hal bellowed into the pillow and Jason nudged her. “How long is he gonna be like this?”

(Y/N) shrugged. “Probably another minute or two. He’ll start up again in about an hour though.”

Jason hummed and stood from the table. “Well, I’d love to stay and get yelled at some more but if I’m being honest, I only need one father yelling at me and not two.”

“Where are you going?” she questioned.

“Roy and I have a mission in Costa Rica tomorrow evening.” He bent down and kissed her lips. “I’ll call you when I land.”

(Y/N) smiled and before he pulled away, she grabbed his shirt and pulled him in for another searing kiss, one that erupted wolf-whistles from the other Lanterns around them—which also had Hal pulling his head up at the sound, immediately shouting again.

“Love you,” she murmured, and he winked.

“Love you more, doll.” He tossed a mock salute to Hal and the others before leaving and she sat back in her seat, readying herself for another round of bellowing.

***

Surprisingly, Hal had relaxed after a few hours. That being said, (Y/N) really had to work on him to do so but being an only child and her dad’s pride and joy played a big part—she knew the man could never stay mad at her. Of course, he’d immediately put rules into place over the whole relationship thing. No boys in the house without permission, no closing the door when a boy was over, no more Bat-sons in the Jordan apartment…he was overreacting, but it wasn’t anything new in (Y/N)’s opinion.

But he did ease up after a few months, mainly because as anti-social as Jason was most days, he was damn good at working people over when he wanted to. And in her boyfriend’s opinion, the easiest way to work her dad over was to tell him all the ways to screw with Bruce—which Hal took in like a sponge with water. As annoying as it was to see the two men so giddy over a plan, she was glad they were just getting along.

However, when Hal learned that (Y/N) was being trained by Jason, and on the rare occasions, Bruce, his meltdown the first night seemed like a walk in the park compared to the storm blowing in.

***

So…what are you wearing?

She snorted, crossing at the formula of the equation, rewriting a new one beside it. “Jason, I’m not having phone-sex with you.”

Hmm…I bet you’re wearing red panties.

“Cold.” (Y/N) retorted with a grin. “They’re blue actually. You know, like Nightwing’s suit?”

Why do you hate me?

“I haven’t the faintest clue what you mean, Jay.”

You’re evil, you know that? Like you portray innocence but in reality, you’re evil.

She snorted again when a tapping came at her bedroom window and she frowned, leaning over; Jason saw it from the camera.

Everything alright?

(Y/N)’s eyes drifted to his face then to the window and she stood. “Yeah, someone’s at the window.”

(Y/N). He warned and she leaned over, seeing Kyle floating there.

“It’s Kyle.”

What’s Kyle doing there? I thought he was on Oa.

She nodded, brows furrowing as she murmured, “I did too.” Opening the window, she greeted, “Hey, what’s up?”

Kyle seemed nervous. No, he seemed concerned. “I need you to come with me.”

“Is my dad okay?” she asked outright, and he nodded.

“Yeah, Hal’s good…but he needs to talk to you.” Kyle waved a hand over her phone, and it shut off. “It’s important.”

(Y/N) felt her heart thump in her chest at how serious her friend was, and she nodded. “Alright. Let’s go.”

***

She’d only ever been to the Watchtower once. And the only thing she remembered from the trip was getting lost in one of the hallways only to be found by Batman who merely picked her sobbing frame up and hummed to her until she fell asleep.

So really, it was like a first time visit all over again, and when she came face to face with not only the Justice League, well Wonder Woman, Batman, and Superman, and her uncles, she wasn’t exactly excited. It felt like she’d been called to the principal’s office for expulsion.

Hal pointed to a seat, which she took, not wanting to open her mouth when she had no idea what was going on.

Wonder Woman, surprisingly, was the first to speak. “What is your daughter doing here, Hal?”

Her father merely looked at (Y/N) then to Bruce, questioning, “How long?” They stared one another down and she felt as lost as last year’s Easter eggs. “How long, Bruce?” Hal asked again.

Batman didn’t even blink. “A full year. When she started working at the branch in Coast City, I had Jason start it.”

“Motherfucker.” Hal cursed, chuckling humorlessly. “I do all I can to keep her out of this bullshit and you drag her into it.”

“(Y/N) wanted to train. She emailed me through a private channel about it.”

All eyes turned onto her and then she knew what was happening. “He’s…right, dad. I wanted to be trained to fight.”

Hal gaped at her. “Why? You’re going to school? You’re working? Why do you want to train?”

(Y/N) swallowed thickly. “To be like you guys. You know, useful?” she stood from the table. “Look, I know you’re worried, but even Batman’s noted major improvements. He says I’m almost ready to start patrolling on my own.” She looked to him for help.

“She’s smart, Hal. And I’m not saying that to float the Jordan ego. Jason’s not one to give commendation where it shouldn’t be.” Batman nodded at her. “(Y/N)’s not my kids, but she’s right behind them on how good she is.”

Hal’s brown eyes turned onto him in a fierce glare. “Yeah, well, unlike you, I don’t make a habit out of putting my kid in danger. I know you have a thing for going through sons.”

“HEY!” (Y/N) shouted, getting his attention as she stood to her feet. “I’m old enough to make this decision for myself and if Batman says I’m good enough to do this, I’m gonna do it.”

“Nope. Not happening.” Hal rejected. “End of discussion.”

“No.”

His eyes went wide first with shock, then with the audacity of her language. “Excuse me?”

(Y/N) momentarily wanted to cave, but she held strong and tightened her jaw. “I said no.” she declared. “I’m gonna do this.”

Hal rounded the table, stomping up to her. “No, you’re not.”

“What’re you gonna do, dad? Lock me in the house for the rest of my life?” she suggested. “I have rights you know.”

“Not to do shit like this. I don’t want you being a hero.”

(Y/N) gazed at him, and suddenly, everyone felt the mood shift as she murmured, “It’s because I’m not a Lantern, isn’t it, dad?”

Hal’s jaw went slack. “What? What are you talking about?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.” She shot back coolly, then tipped her head to the other league members. “See, they get to brag about their kids. Superboy, the Robins, the Wonder-Girls...everyone on this team has a trainee but you.” (Y/N)’s eyes narrowed. “And you hate that I’m not like you, don’t you? That I can’t seem to figure out what it takes to wear that ring.”

She glanced at her uncles who were gaping at her. “See, you look at them like they’re the greatest people in the universe. And then when you look at me? It’s easy to see the devotion shift. Deep down it makes you disappointed that I’m not a Green Lantern.”

“You are absolutely out of line.” He growled.

“Am I, dad?” (Y/N) challenged. “Everyone here gets to brag about their superhero trainees but when it comes you, what can you say? ‘My daughter isn’t a Green Lantern like me, sorry!’?” she looked at him. “I’m not a Green Lantern, but I am something else. I can be something else. Let me prove it to you.”

Hal gazed at her for along moment. “…No.”

(Y/N) snapped. “Why the fuck not! What is it about me that just makes you so antagonistic at the idea of me being something like you!”

“Watch your language, young lady. I’m still your father.” He demanded.

“Oh please, as far as I’m concerned, you were just a failed pilot on leave who fucked my mom and got her pregnant.”

It happened before anyone realized it. The sharpest crack any of them had ever heard in their lives and (Y/N) turned her face back to him, a hand coming up to press against her stinging cheek. And Hal? Hal was staring at his hand as if it didn’t belong to him.

She wasn’t mad. Shocked, sure, but not mad. If anything, it’d proved her point and she merely regarded him with an assured gaze. “Bogey down, huh dad?” she remarked, and his eyes shot to hers.

Hal’s mouth opened but nothing would come out except, “I didn’t mean to do that.”

“Yeah, you did,” she whispered, taking a step back from him when he reached for her.

His face crumpled and he brokenly called, “(Y/N), wait!”

But she was already running for the door, Batman on her heels.

***

“Do you want me to call Jason?” he asked quietly, watching her open the balcony doors.

Her hands stilled for a moment, then she resumed twisting the key. “No…and don’t tell him this happened either.”

“Why not?”

(Y/N) looked back at him. “Because you and I both know that Jason would beat my dad senseless.”

“…Do you want to come back to Gotham for a while?”

She opened the doors and sighed. “I don’t know, Batman.” Glancing back, she added, “I don’t really know what I want right now.”

“Do you want to be away from Hal?” he questioned seriously, and she looked at her feet.

“I know what you’re thinking. But he’s not abusive.”

“All evidence to the contrary.”

(Y/N)’s head snapped up. “My dad’s never laid his hands on me before now.”

“He ever physically discipline you?”

“Swatting your eight-year-old kid’s butt in the middle of a store when they’re having a meltdown over not buying an expensive toy is a lot different from beating them bloody and bruised with a beer bottle or a belt.’ (Y/N)’s eyes darkened, but not at her father’s face in her head, but at Batman. “My dad’s a lot of things. A jackass, a skirt chaser, a self-righteous arrogant prick…but he is not an abuser.”

Batman placed a hand on her shoulder. “He hit you.”

“Yeah? And? I insulted him and my mom straight to his face. Sure, slapping me wasn’t the answer, but I understand the reaction. Does is make is right? No. But neither is what I said. We both fucked up.” She shrugged his hand off. “We’ll talk about it and move on.”

“Because it’s what Jordan’s do?”

(Y/N) huffed a laugh but it was anything but mirthful. “Yeah. It’s what Jordan’s do.” She stepped inside and looked back at him. “Thanks for bringing me home, Batman. I appreciate it.”

He nodded, pulling out his grapple. “Call me if you need anything.” Batman gazed at her. “And think about calling Jason.”

“…I will.”

Batman gazed at her a moment longer then fired the grapple, taking off into the night sky towards the Batplane, then she was watching as it disappeared faster than it came.

With a heavy sigh, she turned and put her hands on the back of the loveseat, shutting her eyes as she thought about the events of the night. She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to feel. Angry? Hurt? Responsible? It had to be all the above, especially when she pictured his face in her head after it happened. Shocked, ashamed, horrified, like he couldn’t believe what he’d just done.

(Y/N) didn’t want to think about it, and when she heard a ring flashing in her ears, she turned. “Guys, I don’t wanna talk about—” she fell into a deep silence when she saw the man before her, the yellow suit glowing vividly against the dark sky.

“Hello (Y/N) Jordan. I am Sinestro.”

***Part Three***

Hal had taken her flying more times than she could’ve counted—perks of being a pilots daughter, and while she had faith in aircraft and Green Lantern constructs, she wasn’t sure how to feel about Yellow Lanterns and their tendency to drop people.

Coast City looked so small below her, and she swallowed thickly, trying greatly to keep her fear under control, keeping her eyes on the moon. She knew if Sinestro dropped her at this height, she’d die. There were no chances of survival at all—she’d hit the ground and pancake with the best of ‘em.

“I am rather surprised that you accepted my invitation so easily,” he remarked, not looking at her as they rose through the night sky.

“Yeah, well…I’ve heard enough stories about you to know that you’ll kill me if you want to.” Her eyes followed his frame. “I’d like to extend my life as long as possible.”

“A wise decision, (Y/N).” He noted rather humorously, finally taking the time to look back at her. “I’ve watched you for some time now.”

Ignoring the implications and total creepiness of the statement, she instead asked, “How long?”

“Long enough to see the potential you have in greater things.” Sinestro replied and reached a hand out, a horde of golden glowing constructs appearing before her eyes. Her training with Batman, with Jason, even with Hal and the others—most importantly, the fight just before. “It hurts that he doesn’t trust you to be like him, doesn’t it?”

She didn’t respond, merely watching the moment of his hand coming back across her face over and over again as the feelings welled in her chest.

“You try so hard to be of use to Hal. To be a Green Lantern like him, but nothing you do makes him proud.” He gazed at her with something akin to pity, but it felt like a manipulation. “I understand your fear of failure…of shame.” Holding out his hand, he made her own raise beside her body and a yellow ring floated from his palm. “I can feel the anger inside you. Your fear fights to quell it.” Sinestro smiled. “I almost want to call Atrocitus and have him recruit you into the Red Corps.”

(Y/N)’s eyes fell to the ring, and she clenched her hand into a fist to keep it from sliding onto her finger. “I—I can’t be a Yellow Lantern.”

“Why not?”

“Why n—because you’re the enemy of the Green Lanterns!” she shouted. “I’d be betraying my father and my friends and my family!”

He gave her a knowing look. “The same family that looked upon you with shame every time you tried to wield the green power ring, but couldn’t?”

She felt like she’d been shot, and her jaw dropped. “I…”

Sinestro nodded. “I understand. But you don’t, (Y/N). Willpower must be had since birth. Fear however—” he reached out, uncurling her fingers. “Can be taught. And you have potential to be trained with terror.” He met her gaze. “You can’t be a Green Lantern like Hal wants…but you can become something he has to recognize. Something powerful. Something fearsome.”

(Y/N) stared at him, and this time, she didn’t fight as the ring slipped onto her finger. (Y/N) Jordan of Earth. You possess the ability to instill great fear. Welcome to the Sinestro Corps.

The world started swirling around her, golden flashes of light bound her body and she screamed in terror as her nightmares came alive before her. The chains coiled, almost like snakes creeping up her body, tighter and tighter around her throat and up around her skull. The last thing she saw through her fearful gaze was Sinestro laughing darkly and the world before her went dark and she was subjected to her minds torment, brought upon by the forged ring.

For a moment, the world was calm, then the chains fell away, and (Y/N) stood before Sinestro, clothed in an exo-suit, similar to her father’s, but instead of the bright, awe-inspiring green, it was a golden, fear-inducing yellow.

And when she opened her eyes, they narrowed onto Sinestro, and all she said was, “I’m ready to receive my orders.”

227 notes · View notes

imthatchishiyasimp · 3 years

Text

Loses and promises

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

hi!!! I'm back hehe

It took me a long time to wrap my head around this idea, but I think I like how it turned out. I've been busy with work and I didn't get to post anything this week, I'm sorry.

Also: BIG THANK YOU FOR THE SUPPORT, THE LIKES AND REBLOGS AND FOLLOWS!!! I didn't, in a million times, thought you would like this THAT much. I really appreciate it, love you so much.

Without further ado, enjoy the read!!

TW: Blood, death and injuries are both mentioned and described

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I knock on his door, hard and fast. Jumping in one foot, I try to keep my balance while I tie my trainer. I rest my back on the door to prevent the obvious fall, and I finish tying the shoe. Except the door suddenly opens and I fall backwards pretty fast with a little scream.

“What the fuck?” He says, catching me by the shoulders and stepping back. “What do you want?” The question rolls with scepticism as he turns me around to face me.

I arch my eyebrows and point my finger to my wrist, simulating the time in a wristwatch.

“Already?” Chishiya hums and crosses his arms. “I must have lost track of time. Have they already made the teams?”

“Yup, and guess who’s going to annoy you for the rest of the night…”

He makes a face that’s supposed to look bothered. And he sure is bothered, he hates having to deal with me during games. But I can see through that. He’s not the only one that hates pairing in games; I do too. Not only because he’s annoying and always acts like he’s the only one worthy of winning, but because I would hate to be involved in a heart’s game with him. I know he would do anything to survive, anything, even if it kills him. And I would too. And he knows it.

“We are leaving in a few minutes. Get ready, you lazy ass” I turn around and head to my room to finish getting ready. I hear his breathy laugh just as he starts closing the door of his room. I might need something to protect myself, or something to get rid of people. Who knows what we will be facing tonight.

The car is full of people and smells like alcohol, drugs and sweat. It’s disgusting and I try to get my face as far as it can go through the window.

“Will you stop moving? It’s pretty uncomfortable and I hate the smell as much as you, so either you make me a place in that window or I throw you off my lap” Chishiya says, calmly and quietly near my ear. My hair blows as his breath leaves his lips and chills run through my body, keeping me so still that it seems as if I turned into rock.

Indeed I am in his lap, and indeed I have been moving. But just because I want to breathe fresh air. Just because of that. Sure. No reason behind.

I laugh, in silence, but I laugh. There were too many people in need of refilling their visas, so we had to pair in greater groups. And I was so not gonna sit in the laps of the horny people overbooking the Beach. So , after a huge fight, I made Chishiya sit under me, in exchange of looking for white hair dye.

I move just a bit more to play with him and I feel him tense under me, his hands coming to my hips. “Okay, okay, I’ll stop” So I move to the edge and get comfortable on his knees, leaving him a small place on the window to put his face.

We watch as the city moves in darkness, leaving behind flashes of light holding game’s arenas. I can hear distant music and screams, gunshots and creepy sounds. Maybe it’s real, maybe it’s my imagination, but I would swear on my visa that they won’t stop when the sun comes up. It’s been so long that even when I close my eyes I can still listen to the people dying in their games. I try to silence them with other things, and sometimes it works, but I’m getting tired of it.

The doors of a forest garden awaits us as we arrive. It’s a closed part of the outskirts of the city, enclosing a private area huge enough to get lost wandering around.

The tables at both sides of the door have the phones and some weapons. There’s no limit entry and it looks like there might be enough phones for the lot of us. There are five other people alongside Chishiya and I. I only know two of them: Hiro, the cook at the Beach, and Ume, a bookish girl that’s always lounging in the silent rooms. The rest look kind of familiar but I don’t remember talking to them.

I get off Chishiya’s lap with a hop and take a phone off the table. It beeps with the facial recognition and just says to wait ten minutes to close the entry.

“Want to bet on the game?” Chishiya asks, nodding to the doors.

“Probably a physical, given that we are so far from the city. So I would say a spade one” I guess. It looks like we will have a big arena, and probably something to run from, if we take into account the weapons.

“Looks like your brain hasn’t died yet” He moves before I can get him with a punch.

“REGISTRATION HAS CLOSED, THERE ARE A TOTAL OF 7 PARTICIPANTS. THE GAME WILL NOW COMMENCE”

All of us gather at the entrance, some of us already with weapons in our hands. I’ve chosen a blade big enough to protect me and some small knives hidden in my top and trainers. I don’t like guns and they run out of ammo quite quickly.

“DIFFICULTY: EIGHT OF SPADES”

“GAME: LABYRINTH”

“RULE: YOU WON’T BE ABLE TO CONTINUE IF YOU DON’T PASS THE TESTS. YOU MUST START ALONE, BUT YOU ARE NOT FORBIDDEN TO PAIR ONCE STARTED THE MAZE”.

“CLEAR CONDITION: FIND YOUR WAY AROUND THE MAZE AND SUCCESSFULLY OPEN THE EXIT DOOR. YOU CLEAR THE GAME WHEN YOU GET THROUGH THE EXIT DOOR”.

“TIME LIMIT: 2 HOURS”.

“AFTER THE 2 HOURS HAVE PASSED, THE MAZE WILL BE SHUT DOWN WITH NO EXIT”.

The doors open and we enter the maze. There are several “starts” written on the floor at the entrance of different passages. The walls are so high that I can’t even try to guess what’s at the top. It’s too dark to see more than a few meters from your hands, and the cold is starting to get annoying.

The seven of us position ourselves one next to each other on the central passages and we wait. No sound can be heard, no light can be seen. It’s creepy as hell. I look sideways and I spot Chishiya lowering his hood and lifting his sleeves. He totally hates running, but you can bet he’s gonna give it all.

“GAME START”

Without hesitation, I sprint into my passage.

I’ve been running non stop since the beginning, and this maze is big as hell itself. People always tell you to stick to the left or right and you will get to the end, and that I’ve been doing. But just when I could. There are so many traps around, it’s like they didn’t think we could survive this, so they threw everything they got.

From knife floors, poison ponds, holes… My feet are done for the day, my legs are bathed in blood from the knives and spikes, and I feel kinda dizzy because of the poison gas. But I keep running. The time is halfway gone, and I don’t think I’m even close to the exit.

I haven’t heard any of the other players since the start. I’m a bit worried, and I keep going back to their faces at the car, at the entrance and the moment I lost sight of them when I started running. Will I see them again? How many of them? Will someone make it?

I turn to the left and get thrown to the floor with a nudge on the nose.

“Holy fuck!” I scream in agony, holding my bleeding nose. I would bet my visa on it, it’s broken for sure. Oh God it hurts too much. My face feels heavy and it stings deep inside.

“Jesus, where the hell are you going without looking? Are you stupid? You could have met some kind of trap, idiot”

I look up and catch a glimpse of white hair. But just a glimpse, because the whole rest of Chishiya is covered in ashes. The bastard just stays there, looking down at me without offering a hand. Totally expected that, to be honest.

I get up and punch him straight in the chest. He howls and gets away looking angry. “You deserved that, you totally smashed your elbow on my face on purpose. You were just waiting there to punch me”

“What the fuck? Why would I?”

I study the situation and try to look for lies, but it’s a lost cause with him. “Shut up and start running, we have a long way to go”

So both of us pair up and keep on running together, helping each other in a few traps to minimize the damage. We still get burned and sliced, but we manage to stay together for a good twenty minutes.

Until we don’t.

We are on an empty corridor surrounded by bindweed. What I thought was going to be a calm and peaceful section turns into a nightmare. From nowhere, ropes start to come out and try to catch our feet, arms and trunk.

Both of us jump and get down to escape from the ropes, sometimes getting too close to the bushes and winning new bruises everywhere. The strength that these things have is incredible and intolerable. It feels as if my bones are breaking under the knots. I grasp Chishiya’s hand to keep from getting sucked into the wall, and he takes me out of it. His hand grips mine with a strength I didn’t know he possessed, and I dwell on the feeling of his cold and soft fingers around mine, enjoying the safety his presence gives anywhere he is.

Lost in his eyes, which are making sure I’m not caught into any ropes anymore, we get pulled away in an instant and Chishiya disappears from my sight into the wall, his eyes not leaving mine.

“No! You bastard! You don’t get to abandon me here! Come back!” I scream into the bushes. I slice the ropes with my knives and get away from that corridor as fast as I can.

My face still hurts from the nudge, and my arm feels funny. Both my legs are covered in bruises and cuts from the ropes and the falls. I’m a mess. Everything hurts. Everything is a mess.

I go back to the feeling of finding him. Maybe I didn’t dwell on it, but I felt safer, I felt relieved to have some company; I felt happy to have him there with me, to back me up and get me through difficult things. Will I see him again? Is he okay? Will he be there?

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You better be there when I get off this fucking maze, or I will search for you to cut you into pieces” I whisper to the night, running again, looking behind me from time to time to check if he’s behind me, stoping just before a turn to prevent another hit. He totally did that on purpose.

I step into a two paths corridor. Both of them are covered in darkness and I can’t say which one looks better. Not wanting to lose any more time, I take the right one, although it doesn’t take me long to return. The blood covers the floor and gets sticky when I step into it. I bend over to see what’s in front of me and gulp down seeing the body of Hiro full of insects eating him alive.

He’s whimpering in pain and coughing blood, moving just a bit, probably paralyzed. I don’t know when he catches me, but his eyes get full of tears and he mouths a silent plea, tears streaming down his face and mixing with the blood. I remember when I met him, asking for a bite of something after a run through the city and hungry enough to eat whatever. He made me a simple sandwich, but I swear it was the best one I have ever had. He stayed in the kitchen with me, talking about his life and asking too many questions. Ever since then, he’s always been there when I needed to disconnect from the games, from the people, from the world. Always with a smile and a new recipe to try.

Now all that is left is pain and suffering.

Getting as close as I dare, I whisper a silent sorry and goodbye before ending his suffering. I run away and don’t look back at all, his face and pain engraved in my mind.

When I get to the exit I almost scream in relief. It’s a big door made of small bars with a big “EXIT” written in red above it. The time is almost up and I can’t see anyone here. The place where I came from is not the only way of getting here, there are three more corridors ending in this place.

The thing is, the doors are closed, and they have a huge key hole in the middle. I look around and I spot a key shining on the top of the door. It’s hanging by a thread, laughing at me from up there.

I scoff, tired as I can be, and I stop in front of the door. Guessing from the place where it is, I must need to climb through the door and it doesn’t seem dangerous at all, but I still don’t trust it. Checking the time I decide that I can’t risk it on trying to search for another way of getting the key, so I grasp the bars.

The heat burns through me and paralyzes me in the spot. I feel as if my hand is going to come off right now. I let go of the door and caress the palm of my hand, blowing air as kindly as I can, tears streaming down my face of the pain.

“FIVE MINUTES LEFT”

“I hate this. I hate it so much” Curses leave my lips as I get higher and higher, once again at the door and burning my hands and feet in the process. I can’t feel it anymore, I just know it’s painful and it’s going to leave ugly scars. I grip the key and rip it from the thread and throw myself to the floor, not caring to limb down properly.

The floor meets my back and I roll over. I would have stayed there, I swear. I was done with everything. My whole body was hurting, my mind was going blank and kept screaming.

“Tsk” I hear some rustling near me and then a foot nudges me on the back of my head. “Are you alive there?” I moan in response and turn over, glaring at the clever smirk of Chishiya. “Do you mind handing over the key? I’m in desperate need of a shower”.

“I don’t know, would you mind stopping hitting me on purpose?” I mumble through moans of pain.

He sighs and bends next to me, placing his face just above mine, our noses almost touching. I can feel his breath, the quick rhythm it still has, the cold and the smell of sweat and toxic reaching me.

“For the last time, I did not hit you on purpose” He whispers looking straight at me.

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?” I question. You won't ever know with him.

“Trust me, if I had hit you on purpose, I would have done it a lot harder”. His eyes hold that smart look, the condescending vibes all around him, but I think I can see worry and relief and…

“Oh fucking hell, yes! You guys made it! We are saved and alive and… Oh God, two minutes left, tell me you know how to open that door or I will kill myself right here” One of the guys we came with sprouts from a passage, holding Ume’s limping form and followed by another guy who’s gripping a tourniquet around his arm. I’m glad to see most of us are alive after that hell.

Chishiya takes the fey from my hand with caution to not touch the burnt parts of my palms and fingers. He quickly pushes the key into the lock and pushes the door hard.

I don’t know why, but I was scared of it not opening. Silly, I know, but after so many games with tricks at the end, I didn’t know what to expect. The phones beep immediately, and I struggle to get up to a sitting position.

“GAME CLEAR”.

“CONGRATULATIONS”.

Relief flows inside all of us, dropping to the floor and crying happy tears. Is it really a win? It doesn't feel like that anymore. I think I've lost some things inside those walls and darkness.

I thought I was hurting, but in just a second, all the injuries I have, start to really hurt and the pain makes me close my eyes and shake like crazy. I might need a whole week of rest after this.

Arms come from behind me and take me up. I’m lost in the sudden change of position and it takes me a while to realize Chishiya is holding me in a bridal style. He quickly gets ahead of the rest, not caring to check if they are following us, and heads to the place we left the car.

It’s a long way until we get there and I nod off a few times, resting my head and hiding in his soft tingling hair, taking his scent apart from all the other ones. I don’t dream at all, it’s all blank, but I wake up startled looking for Hiro or Chishiya, afraid they’re not here anymore. I get sad and I cry silently when I remember Hiro’s body and scared face, pleading for mercy; and I sigh with relief when I feel Chishiya holding me tighter after I wake up shaking, crossing our eyes and making me feel safe with just a look.

“Don’t ever disappear like that again. Don’t even dare. Promise me” I angrily say after one of my nightmares. He doesn’t say anything, and I don’t need him to. He just needs to know. I pretend I don’t see the almost imperceptible nod he does once I return to put my head on his chest.

The ride back is a blur. We have more space now that two of us are missing, but it’s heavy inside. I keep next to Chishiya, him holding me while I rest and sleep in between nightmares. None of us has said anything since we left the forest. We are all relieving our paths along the maze, the things we saw and the hopelessness we felt, the fear of being left there forever.

The sunrise marks our arrival at the Beach. People there are waiting for the cars still gone and they welcome us with joy and worry. We are rushed to the medical room to get checked up on, and although I try to walk there, pathetically I must say, I can feel Chishiya is ready to ame me in case I fall. He leaves once An puts me on a bed and starts treating my wounds.

But I know he will be back. He always comes back. He promised.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hope you liked it!! Give me some feedback and love if you might, I would love to hear from you.

As always, I'm still open to requests and comments. If you want me to tag you on the next post, do tell me!

Be safe and take care!!

#aib #alice in borderland #chishiya #chishiya shuntaro #chishiya x reader #fic #oneshot #reader insert #shuntaro chishiya #spades game #imawa no kuni no arisu #imawa no kuni no alice

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purselover2 · 3 years

Text

Bucky to the Rescue

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Triggers: sharp objects

Warning: NSFW, 18+ Only, Smut

Summary: Bucky comes to your rescue when you forget to buy something at the store.

**************************************************

Bucky hears you before he sees you. You’re coming down the hallway complaining about forgetting something. When you make it into the living room he sees you’re dressed and making your way to the closet to grab your coat.

“Doll? Whats wrong? Where are you going?” It was late and he didn’t like the thought of you out this time of night.

“Just down to the corner market. I forgot to get razors earlier and I have that presentation tomorrow and I need to shave my legs so I can wear my power suit.” You ramble as you're trying to get both arms in your coat.

“Can’t you use one of mine?” He offers.

You pause for a minute, then reply. “Your out too. I had it down on the list to get both of them and totally forgot to go down that aisle. So I’ll have to go. I won’t be gone long. Promise.” You reach up to kiss him and he stops you from turning away.

“What if there was another way to shave?” He offered.

“What do you mean?” You seriously had thought about all other options and couldn’t come up with one that would work. You could of course wear something different, but you really wanted to wear your new suit.

“Well, it just so happens I have mad knife skills. How about you let me shave your legs with my knife?” He smiled at you as your eyes went wide. He knew that you had a thing for his knives.

“Oh, Well I guess that could work.” You’re trying really hard to not show how excited and nervous you are at the thought. It was no secret how much of a turn on it was for you when Bucky practiced with his knives. Even the sight of him sharpening them and the way the muscles in his arm reacted to the motion of him running the blade across the sharpening stone was hot.

“Okay. So why don’t you go get everything ready, and I’ll make sure my knife is good to go.” He turns and heads towards the room he keeps his gear in.

You stand there for another minute before you realize you haven’t moved. Hurrying down the hallway you stop first in the bedroom and quickly undress and put your robe on. Then you make your way into the bathroom. It was one of the main reasons you moved here. In addition to the shower, there was a huge tub big enough for two. Even Bucky could fit in there with you comfortably. Getting out your shaving cream and some towels you started running the water to fill the tub. It had just finished filing up when the door opened behind you and Bucky came into the room.

“I turned the heat up too so that you wouldn’t get cold.” He went to the table you used to hold your wine and book whenever you were soaking and relaxing and laid down his knife, the sharpening stone and a clean washcloth for cleaning the knife after each pass.

“Ready?” He asked turning towards you.

“Yes.” You replied taking your robe off and hanging it up. You made your way to the tub well aware that Bucky was staring at you. Before you could get in Bucky had you in his arms and was lifting you over the side of the tub helping you sit down.

“Can’t have my best girl doing something dangerous like getting into a bathtub now can I?” He tested you.

You laughed and reached up and grabbed ahold of his dog tags using them to pull him closer to you. “Nope. Can’t have that. Thank you for always taking care of me.”

Kissing you he replies. “Anytime babe. Now I’m going to need you to do exactly what I say. Remember my knife can cut through bone, so I need you to be very very still and let me do the work okay? You just lay back and relax. Okay?”

All you could do was nod your head, lean back and follow instructions.

Bucky took his shirt off and knelt down beside the tub. He lifted your right leg and placed it on his shoulder. Taking the shaving cream he shakes the can and squirts a line of it slowly down the entire length of your leg. Sitting the can down, he slowly lathers it up until your leg is completely coated.

Leaning over he picks up his knife. “Ready doll?” “Yes.” You say along with nodding your head.

“Okay remember what I said. Let me do the work. Just relax.” He placed the knife at the bottom of your leg and slowly moved it upward until he reached your knee. Your entire body was responding to him. If the image of him doing this to you had turned you on, the real thing was about to push you over the edge before you’d even really started.

He repeated the process over and over. Start at the bottom, pull up to your knee, wipe the blade off and repeat until the entire bottom portion of your leg was done.

“How was that baby?” He asked as he ran his hand over the area to make sure he didn’t miss a spot.

“Good. Felt amazing actually.” You answered honestly smiling at him.

“I’m glad. Alright now I need to do your knee. I’ve heard you say its a tricky area to shave, so I’ll be really careful.” You nod and he makes sure your knee is still lathered.

Taking the knife he slowly moves in short flicks working the angles and planes of the area until it's finished.

Then he moves to the upper part of your leg using the same long careful strokes he used on the lower part. Once the right leg is completely done and inspected he lowers it into the water and rinses it off and again checks to make sure he didn’t miss anything.

Once satisfied he moves to the other side of the tub and kneels down. He’s got shaving cream on his shoulder and something about it makes him look even sexier. He takes your left leg and repeats the same process. This time though he stops after the last stroke clears the upper part of the leg and makes no move to lower it into the water.

“Almost done doll. Unless.....” He stops and looks up at you.

“Unless?” You think you know where he’s going with this. At least you and pussy hope you know where.

“Well, I know you have a waxing appointment coming up, but what if I take care of it for you? I’m already down here and have everything set up. Would make more sense and free up some time on your calendar.” He rationalized.

You had almost blacked out when he said the words waxing appointment, you and your pussy celebrating that you had been right. So, it took you a minute to realize he was waiting on a response. “It would save me some time and if you don’t mind.” You were really proud of yourself for being able to string that many words together.

“Don’t mind at all.” How lowered your leg into the water and began cleaning it of any shaving cream and checking for any missed places. This time though when his hand smoothed up the last few inches it slipped and grazed over your lower lips. Your body jerked at the sensation.

“Oops. Sorry ‘bout that.” He grinned letting you know he was anything but sorry. You smiled at him and shook your head.

“Now for this, we’re going to need to change places. I’m going to get in the tub and you're going to sit on the ledge in the corner.” He stands up and picks up his knife. “I’ll be right back, I need to go and get one of my smaller knives for this.”

While he’s gone you get up and grab one of the towels from the rack and put it down on the ledge where you’ll be sitting. The ledge is wide and he’ll be able to spread your legs as far apart as he needs to in order to complete his task. You also let the water out and refill again.

Bucky comes back in, shutting the door behind him and watches as you sit down on the ledge. He unbuckles his belt and pulls his jeans and underwear down in one motion. His cock springs free and you’re glad to see that you aren’t the only one this entire process has been effecting.

“Sorry about that doll, had to find the right one and she needed some care before I could use her on my girl.” He explained as he lowered himself into the tub and moved over to you.

He spread your legs apart and took the can of shaving cream and this time sprayed it into his hand. Sitting the can down, he rubs both hands together working up a lather. Taking it he spreads it all over your pussy and you try to not react when his finger brushes against your clit.

“Okay baby, remember be extra still for me and let me do the work. She gives me so much pleasure I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself I nicked her.” He explains and you nod. “Okay.”

He picks up a much smaller knife, one with a much skinnier, shorter blade. He shaves the area above your clit first using short upward strokes. Cleaning the knife off after each pass, once he’s done, he spreads you further apart. “Alright baby, now I’m going to shave the lips. I’ll have to pull them a little bit so that the blade doesn’t come anywhere near your clit.” He did just that, pulling and maneuvering each one until he could swipe the blade up safely.

Once he was done, he took a cup you didn’t notice before and poured water over your pussy until it was free of any lather. Running his hands over her he checked for missed areas. Finally he took a clean washcloth and patted her dry.

“How does that feel baby?” He asked sitting back in the tub.

“Good.” You replied, noticing that his cock was still hard and laying against his stomach. “But are you sure you didn’t miss anything?”

“I’m pretty sure, but if you’d like I could do a visual inspection. Would have to get real close to her and maybe use my tongue to get into the places my eyes might miss.” He looked down at your pussy at the same time it decided to drench the towel under you.

“I think you better.” You answered as you once again pulled him forward with his dog tags.

“Yes ma’am.” He replied and moved forward, putting your legs over his shoulders. Using his hands he spread you apart taking his thumbs and running them up and down your folds using your wetness to coat his way. Leaning closer he drags his tongue up and down your folds and over your clit, finally stopping on it and giving it a few flicks. “Hmmmmm” you moan. “Bucky...”

“What is it doll?” I think I’m done. Everything looks and feels good. You’re all set.” He teased you, smiling when you made a noise of protest.

“God, Bucky, please don’t stop. Please?” You didn’t care if you were begging. The whole experience had you so worked up that you didn’t care what you sounded like as long as his mouth found its way back.

“Please what?” He said as he once again flicked his tongue over you. “Please make me cum.” You breathed out.

“Well, since you asked so nicely and you’re spread out in front of me like a damn last meal, I’m going to do just that and once I’ve made you cum I’m going to bury myself inside you and make you cum again all over my cock before I fill you up.” He lowered his mouth and just as his tongue started to dart out, he looked back up at you.

“Doll? Anytime you want to forget the razors, I’m okay with that.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x (y/n)#bucky barnes x you #bucky barns x reader

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whump-only · 3 years

Text

meal time -- Golden (vamp whump)

Part 2 of my mini vampire-whump series. Wherein Pollen tries out this whole feeding a vampire thing.

tw: captivity, starvation/hunger, light gore (description of prior injury), it/its as pronouns, manhandling, reference to broken bones, suffocation/drowning, knives + cut skin, and who can forget blood

-------

“Come on, vampy. Breakfast,” Pollen called. Or, he guessed, this was technically its dinner. Since, nocturnal, right?

The thing didn’t stir under its blanket. With a little jolt of concern and hope, Pollen wondered if the shock of having its legs broken just straight up killed it. Pollen placed the dog bowl down on the ground, with the cube of cow’s blood sliding around the bottom, already a small pool of it melted.

With one hand Pollen pinned it down, putting his weight into it. This elicited a moan so at least it wasn’t dead. Yippee. He pulled down the blanket, revealing its thick matted hair and the iron straps that held its muzzle in place. This also meant it was on its stomach, which was good. Its bound hands must be pinned below it.

Pollen fiddled with the key for what felt like far too long until the lock holding the muzzle shut dropped open. He pocketed the lock but hesitated to pull the muzzle away from its face, what if it tried to bite? But he couldn’t leave it like this… Pollen held its hair with one hand and yanked the muzzle off with the other, then swiftly scrambled up and away.

His worry was for nothing, because it didn’t react at all, except to groan. The bottom of its face looked all discolored and part of it was torn open and oozing blood or something.

Pollen grimaced. With his foot he shifted the bowl closer so it was right near the vampire’s head. He then bounded up the stairs and slammed the door shut.

——

When Pollen returned that night, the vampire was curled up away from the bowl, again tucked entirely under the blanket. Pollen checked and the cube had melted, leaving the bowl nearly full of the dark liquid.

It didn’t drink any? Pollen wondered. He stared at the bowl for a while, then finally decided to dump the old stuff and put in a new cube of frozen cow blood. Again, he pushed the bowl so that it was right near where he assumed the hiding vampire’s head was.

“Come on. Food. Drink,” he encouraged, tapping its back with his toe.

It growled from under the blanket.

Pollen left hastily.

——

The next night Pollen managed a few hours of sleep but still woke and lay awake for hours before getting up to check on the vampire.

He felt a sense of relief at seeing that creature right where he left it. But the bowl was also exactly where he left it, untouched.

Was it too sick to eat? That was really possible considering its almost catatonic state. Pollen figured it’d only get even weaker if it didn’t eat soon. It was strange that Hyde hadn’t mentioned this… His skin crawled from the thought of Hyde blaming him for killing his little pet.

Perhaps the vampire just needed to smell the blood or taste it to be… inspired.

Pollen pulled its blanket down off its head, careful to draw his hands away quickly. It growled and squeezed its eyes shut angrily. It was still unmuzzled and now under closer observation, Pollen could see its mouth was all blistered and the sides were torn open, half scabbed and still open.

Pollen gagged. Trying not to look directly at it, he cupped a bit of the cow’s blood in his hands then splashed it onto the vampire’s face.

The vampire huffed in surprise and opened its eyes ever so slightly. Pollen didn’t think he imagined its nose twitching a bit and it swallowing, though it was hard to tell under the dim yellow light.

“Come on. Smells good right? Drink, it’s right there,” Pollen encouraged.

The vampire stared at him for a beat before closing its eyes again.

“Hey!” Pollen said, and splashed a bit more onto it.

It scrunched its nose and looked him over with one eye before defiantly closing it again.

“Fuck,” Pollen sighed, then turned to climb the stairs. “So stubborn…”

Pollen closed the basement door behind himself. Right there, on the counter in front of him, lay the vampire’s muzzle that he’d dropped there after taking it off.

Pollen tried to walk past it. Twice. Finally after rocking on his heels he snatched it up and flipped it over.

A silver bit. Designed to pressed into the mouth, burning lips and tongue.

Pollen chuckled emptily. That would do it.

——

Pollen trudged down the stairs. Unsurprisingly the vampire was under its blanket. Its bowl was full.

“Come on, vamp. You’re gonna starve,” he complained. Pollen knew these things were resilient but they still needed food, right?

Pollen tried to push the still-blanketed vampire onto its back but it resisted, making a low sound, not quite a growl. Pollen put a little more weight into his foot, until he was able to fully pin the creature on its back.

With his boot Pollen tapped the lump of blanket until he thought he found where its bound hands were, and then by stepping down, pinned its hands into its chest. Pollen held his breath and ripped down the blanket, revealing the vampire’s glowering stare and what looked like a scowl behind its ripped lips.

“I hate you too,” Pollen informed it, then grabbed its bowl.

Pollen tipped the bowl, aiming the cow’s blood at the creatures mouth. But the vampire kept its mouth firmly shut so the liquid splattered all over its face and chest.

“God damn it,” Pollen muttered. Was it doing this on purpose? A little protest?

Pollen stepped away to strategize. He could wait the creature out, eventually it would get hungry enough and drink. Right? But what if it didn’t? Maybe it’d had enough and was trying to kill itself. Could he could force it to open its mouth long enough to poor the liquid down? That would be hard. He didn’t want to touch its face. Did vampires even like cow’s blood?

Pollen placed the bowl on the ground, by now the cow’s blood was nearly all gone, poured out and wasted. But there was a good inch left.

Pollen got a firm grip on the vampire’s hair. It winced a bit, before he even pulled.

Pollen took a deep breath and lifted the vampire’s head and smashed it into the bowl. The vampire immediately started to thrash and cough and wail. Pollen lifted its head above the blood for two seconds, letting it gasp for air, then pressed its face down into the bowl again. He continued like this four or five more times before releasing it.

Its whole face was covered in the watery blood, but it looked more like it’d gone for a swim than for a meal. It took shuddering breaths for a while, then as if declaring itself finished, pulled the blanket back over its head.

Pollen checked the bowl. It was pretty much empty but most of the blood had probably been splashed out instead of swallowed. Pollen decided that was enough for the day.

———

Pollen returned the next morning, ready with a fresh bowl of melted cow’s blood.

The vampire whimpered as Pollen made his way down the steps, clearly less indifferent than before.

“Don’t cry at me. Are you gonna eat today? Hm?” Pollen asked it, and set the bowl down by its head.

The vampire didn’t move to drink so Pollen ripped away its blanket and took it by its hair again. It made a long, sad whine.

“I know. But I can’t let you turn to dust on my watch,” Pollen explained, then dunked the vampire’s head into the bowl, trying to keep its mouth under and nose above the liquid.

Like last time the vampire thrashed and growled. Pollen lifted its head and it seemed to cough blood back into the bowl before Pollen pushed it under again. Dunk. Breathe. Dunk. Breathe.

It didn’t seem like the blood was actually going anywhere except the floor. Pollen dropped the thing’s head to the side of the bowl and sighed. It was hopeless.

Maybe he could threaten it. Pollen got up and inspected the toolbox that Hyde had left. Many of the tools felt untouchable, too gruesome to consider, and the rest were useless. There was a little pocket knife… Pollen flicked it open.

The vampire had closed its eyes again. Pollen pointed the knife at it, accusingly. “If you don’t drink everything in that bowl, I’m gonna cut you!” he announced, testing out the words.

The vampire huffed without opening its eyes. Pollen doubted the vampire would even understand why it was being hurt, if Pollen really started cutting it. How absurd this must all be for a creature like that. To wake up one day in this nightmare. Pollen felt his resolve draining. “Shit.”

Pollen looked at his reflection in the blade of the pocket knife. The thought that entered his mind was so absurd that he laughed out loud.

And yet… Pollen chewed his lip. He couldn’t be this soft. It was a vampire. Human blood was off limits. Didn’t Hyde say that? Right? Pollen wasn’t sure.

Maybe a little bit of human blood would make it less… sick. Less depressed too.

Pollen rolled his eyes at how much of a pushover he was for this. He’d never tell Hyde.

Pollen crouched over the bowl that still had the cow’s blood. He took a few deep breaths then lightly pressed the blade into the pad of his pinkie finger. He hissed as it sliced open the skin but just as quickly the pain faded to a throb. A bead of blood welled up and slid off his finger, into the bowl, one drop of human’s blood lost in an ocean of cow’s blood. Plink.

Pollen glanced at the vampire and his heart skipped a beat. It was staring directly at him, eyes alert and wide. Its irises were an undeniably beautiful color. Gold was rare for vampires.

Pollen grinned in triumph even though his heart thrummed in his chest from its hungry attention. “Yeah, you can smell it right? You want this?”

The vampire’s nose twitched a bit, as if to confirm.

Two more drops landed in the bowl. Plip. Plip. He’d really captured its attention now. It really was a beastly thing, so hungry for human blood.

Pollen pressed his thumb just below the cut, pushing out a few more drops of blood. Plip. Plip plip plip. Plip. It seemed the vampire breathed a little faster, imperceptibly strained toward the bowl. But it made no moves, no sound.

Pollen stuck his hurt pinkie into his mouth and stood up. He nudged the bowl toward the vampire, until the bowl touched the thing’s forehead.

“Come on. I know you’re tempted,” he whispered.

The vampire’s nose still twitched but it somehow still didn’t move.

Pollen took a seat on the bottom stair. They were both out of each other’s reach.

The vampire glanced at him, sizing him up, then the bowl, and Pollen thought he could see the gears churning in its brain.

Finally, it shifted. Pollen held his breath as it laboriously got up on its elbows and lifted its head. It gave the blood a sniff and at last, lowered its mouth to the liquid and took free swallows. It even licked the bottom of the bowl.

Pollen waited until it was finished before getting up. It startled, shooting Pollen a glare.

But Pollen was just amused. “Good job today, Goldie,” he said, remembering Hyde’s nickname for it.

#vampire whump #whump writing #golden the vamp #captivity #starvation #gore #it/its pronouns #manhandling #broken bones #drowning #suffocation #knives #blood

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ashintheairlikesnow · 3 years

Text

Nice to Meet You

For @boxboysandotherwhump - Theo chose soft!Jameson, so here he is! @wildfaewhump gave me the three-word prompt “Space, shell, fair” for Jameson.

CW: Recovering pet whumpees, referenced past torture, scars, referenced dubcon/noncon, briefly referenced past dehumanization, consensual angst, fluff

When he opens the closet door, intending to press himself into his safe spot with his back to the corner, blocked by the boxes, he discovers Allyn is already there.

For a moment, his mind goes blank.

They look up at him and wince as the light cuts into the warm, velvet dark they were hiding in. Their long wavy hair hangs over their eyes, impossibly long legs bent until their knees are under their chin in the oversized sweatpants, gray eyes looking up at him, startled.

They’re more afraid of you than you are of them, whispers Nanda’s voice in his mind, soft and sweet as custard, the first owner, the one who took him on hunting trips where he had him sleep with the dogs and cut a line into the back of his thigh for every animal he slaughtered. All his memories of Nanda are grays tinged in blood - the gray of the sky, of Nanda’s eyes, the red of the bloodhounds, the drips that followed him across the floor.

Nanda also taught him about bears, while they moved through the woods. They’re more afraid of you than you are of them, boy. Vanilla custard, but held on the edge of a sharp knife, metallic under pillowy cloying sweetness. Nanda’s words always felt like blood in his mouth, spoonfed.

Allyn isn’t a bear - but they are definitely afraid.

“Why-” His voice cracks, shock of earthquake through ice on his tongue, and he considers simply closing the door and walking away. Allyn is his roommate, not his friend. He doesn’t have friends, none of them have real friends. Just other people also suffering nearby. Finally, though, he opens the door just a little wider. “Why are you in here?”

Allyn shakes their head, and it’s only then Jameson realizes their hair is uncombed, hanging lank and limp and lifeless, which Allyn’s hair never does. Their lips tremble, no perfect fucking party smile in place like usual, as they cringe back from him. No pretty blouse, no pretty anything. Just pale and shadowed, freckles standing out like someone stuck them on. “I-I’m sorry, I just… just needed-... a, a minute t-to breathe, I’m sorry-”

“This is my fucking space, Allyn. Yours is under the bed, so… go be under the bed.” His voice isn’t as rough and mean as he wants it to be, but it’s maybe mean enough - they sniff, and he sees their eyes glitter with tears.

His anger melts under something he tells himself isn’t guilt, and he exhales, slowly, before he moves to a crouch. He doesn’t like being loomed over, so they probably hate it, too, right? He’s had too many motherfuckers stare down at him in his cages. He stays that way in silence, right at their eye level, cocking his head as they breathe, wondering what color their eyes really are.

“I’m sorry,” They whisper, and he can see the shift of their oversized sweatshirt, three days past needing a wash. This isn’t like Allyn at all. Have they been like this for days, and he didn’t notice?

Well, why he fuck should he notice, they’re not friends, and Allyn is in his space, the only space in his entire life that’s all his and isn’t ringed in bars to put him on display-

No.

It’s not their fault, they’re upset, and the darkness of the closet is safer than anywhere else. You can hide in closets, he understands why they’re here. He forces down his irritation, and takes in the miserable worry in their eyes.

“Shit. Allyn, it’s... I don’t mean to be an ass, I just-... uh, what made you… need a minute? Exactly?” He should call for the big guy who runs this place, it’s his whole job to handle moments like this, but he can’t quite make it happen. Instead, he finds the voice he wants to be sharp is softer, his words feel like the heat of a kiss he actually wants, taste sweeter than any kiss he’s ever actually had.

They’re more scared of you than you are of them.

“Um, I-I was-... I was thinking… about… him.” The poison in the love in their voice is all in Jameson’s head, but he feels it seep into all his scars anyway. Acid, that him. Too much pineapple burning his tongue. They’re lucky to have had an owner they could love. Luckier still, to have one who loved them back.

Luckiest of all, to have an owner who wanted them to be happy.

Unluckiest, though, to get chucked out with the fucking garbage when the asshole died and they weren’t in his will. It’s not fair, but it’s fucking life, isn’t it? And in the end, which one of them is luckier? Him, for knowing it was suffering the whole time - or them, for having the chance to believe it was anything else?

“You miss him.” Flat, crash of knives on the ground, the clink and rattle and smack of their handles. Allyn only hears the words. He is starting to realize words feel inside him differently than they do to others.

Allyn nods, and the glitter of tears spills finally out.

He wants to touch their face - he doesn’t.

“I-I do,” They whisper. “I know I sh-sh-shouldn’t, but I… I do. I’m sorry, I know that you don’t-... that you weren’t-”

“Yeah, well.” He waves a hand, dismissive. The scars on his back and legs feel stretched, when he crouches like this, balances on the balls of his feet. He can feel the skin pull at itself, numbed but still here. Couldn’t kill me, motherfuckers, how about that? I’m still here, and three of you are gone. You’re just fucking corpses and your little blow-up doll with a heartbeat is still here. “You’re hurting worse than I am now, so I guess we’re sort of even.”

“I just… I can’t-...” Allyn’s voice buckles under the weight of their emotions, it shatters. Jameson tastes blood from the glass and watches Allyn lift their hands to hide behind them. Long fingers, delicate and graceful, even in this. Nails filed to perfect roundness. His own fingers are nothing special, two of them on his right hand broken until they don’t bend quite right anymore. He didn’t have to have perfect hands. He barely escaped Robert getting to keep his hands at all, and that was only because he was pretty fucking good at using them.

“I can’t live without him,” Allyn whimpers, muffled and thick. “I feel like… like I was made empty for him to fill up, and h-he’s gone, I can’t-... live without him, I can’t-”

He swallows the glass of their grief, buries it inside him. Wonders if he’ll ever know how it feels to give a shit what happened to the assholes who hurt him. What would it be like, to actually feel bad about the deaths?

“You can,” He says, low-voiced, and shifts forward into the closet, settling himself down and closing the door until only the thinnest crack of light can break up their safer darkness. Barely the width of a wire, the light illuminates nothing, only reminds them it’s there. He listens to the soft inhale, slower exhale, of the person beside him. Their presence is a weight, in his safest places, and his nerves are alight with how fragile it is, to have anywhere at all, how easily ruined by someone intruding. He clears his throat, uncertain, unused to being one to give comfort. More used to ignoring its existence. “You, um. You can live without them, I fucking swear it, Allyn. I lived without all of mine, for a while, ‘fore the next one caught me, or bought me.”

He hears rustling, and tilts his head just slightly to see them looking at him. They’re pale, but he is, too, a duller washed-out color from lack of sunlight for so long. Their freckles look like constellations, the stars he would stare at through Robert’s window in the dark. He notes, absently, that they damn near have a Little Dipper along their left cheekbone. “But-... but you didn’t love them… did you?”

He decides he sort of likes their voice. It slips into his mind, subtle sweetness, maple syrup but thinner. Weaker, but maybe it could be strong.

With time.

He swallows, speaking gruffly to cover up the strange twist of emotion. “No, I-... no. I didn’t love ‘em, but… but you keep going, you know? You’ll do it, too. I’m not… fuck, I’m not good for this. I wasn’t ever supposed to talk, so I’m not… super good at it now. Being, um. Like, helping… with words.” His voice is thick tar on his tongue, colored by his embarrassment.

But he tries.

There’s a silence, and he leans over, until his shoulder just touches theirs. Allyn tenses and then relaxes, and they sit like that for a while, listening to each other breathe.

Allyn’s head comes to rest on his shoulder, and he finds he doesn’t mind the weight.

“I’m so tired of being sad,” They whisper.

“Yeah, I’m-... sorta tired of being pissed off, myself.” He huffs a laugh. Then he feels Allyn’s hand - cold, slender, long-fingered - find his own, warmer and scarred. “Feels like we’re just empty seashells that get filled up with whatever the water brings, huh?”

“That… that sounds really pretty,” Allyn says softly. “Do you think pretty things a lot?”

“No. Most of my thoughts are really fucking ugly.” He manages another humorless laugh. “I guess I can surprise you, huh.”

“In more ways than one.”

“What?”

“I saw what you wrote on the wall,” Allyn murmurs, and they shift their head, breath warm on the side of his neck, where his collar is. Or isn’t. For a second, he can’t remember if he’s wearing it or not. He takes his off, sometimes. When he can. More and more often, as the days turns into weeks here.

“You did?” He closes his eyes, not that it makes much difference. They don’t let go of his hand. There is movement, out in the hall, in the rest of the house, but for the second, he and Allyn are alone.

“Mmhmm. You can read and write? Did your owner let you?”

It’s a secret he’s kept inside him for so long. It’s so hard to give it away, now. “I… no, none of them knew I could. When they took it from me, it… didn’t work. I never lost it.”

“Oh.” They’re silent for a moment. Their breath is warm, and despite himself, he feels a nervous flip of his stomach, his hair standing on end. It’s something trapped between fear and want, and it’s unlike any fear or want he’s ever felt before. “What did you write, on the wall?”

He could tell them anything. He could lie.

He tells the truth. “I wrote out our names. All of us. Um. The, Jake, and… his people. Eli, Nova, Sarita, um, Allyn…”

“Did you write yours?”

He lets his head gently fall back to rest against the wall. His heart might break out of him, bleed all over the floor. A different kind of bleeding, a kind that he sort of wants, even though he doesn’t. “Um. Yeah, I… yeah.”

“What is it?” They don’t move their head, they don’t let go of his hand. “What’s your name?”

He shouldn’t tell them.

It’s been his secret for so, so long. But… fuck, he’s so tired of secrets.

“Jameson,” He says, and it’s the taste of air just before rain, a chill breeze on a blistering day. His name, the one he gave himself. “I’m-... my name is Jameson.”

They’re quiet for a second, and then say, softly, “Nice to meet you, Jameson.”

It sounds better, in Allyn’s voice.

Everything does.

---

@burtlederp @finder-of-rings @whump-tr0pes @whumpiary @raigash @moose-teeth @orchidscript @astrobly @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @endless-whump

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toothedsmile · 3 years

Text

:) - The new Demon

Felt evil, had to write :) Sorry for the lack of updates but it seems everything is going either alright or simply downhill. Anyway, I hope you Angels are taking care of yourselves! Please enjoy this tiny thing that I came up with, might be canon ;)

I tried to make this as Gender neutral as I could, I’ve been thinking of editing the main story to do this as well because I know some of you might not identify as only female and I wanted to respect that, I really want you guys to feel accepted here you know.

Also, I’ve been distracting myself by playing some Minecraft, so if you wanna be friends then feel free to send a PM 😊 I love interacting with you guys! I have also been thinking of streaming someday, while not necessarily games but my writing, I’ve even made a name! Monthly Reader Appreciation Stream! So we can interact and I could talk how I do some things! If you think it’s a good idea, feel free to say so.

- T.S

Filmag – songs that make you feel like you’re the villain

REBBEL – songs that make you feel like a villain

If you guys wanna feel evil as well

TW: Description of murder, death and suggestive themes.

You took a deep breath, what a beautiful day outside.

It had recently stopped raining and the sun was shining through the passing clouds, rays covering the ground in a glow of gold.

Smiles were on the faces of the people around you, children were giggling as they played with each other, their pudgy faces scrunching up and eyes closing. Oh, such innocence.

You loved it all.

You’d hate to see it fade.

Wouldn’t you?

You looked down to your hands, perhaps you should’ve cleaned them better, there was still some red around and under your nails. With your hands shoved in your pockets and furrowed brows you continued walking across the sidewalk towards your own home.

Once you got home you saw your pitiful excuse of a neighbour speaking to a very young and uncomfortable feminine person, he had them pressed to his door, his face nearly touching theirs.

The person saw you walking up to your house and looked you straight in the eyes, pleading for you to help them escape. As you looked right back at them, the only thing you did was give a sorry smile as you waved a goodbye to them, they looked so betrayed

As you unlocked your door you heard your neighbour push his victim inside his own house, the only thing the person could do was letting out a gasp before the door closed once again. A thud followed and the lock clicked.

And you walked inside your own home.

----

It was a beautiful day outside you thought as you saw the sun lowering in the distance though you could’ve done without the noise from a while ago. He was never silent was he?

“Hm, maybe today is the day, he’s really been getting on my nerves lately.” You said as you stood up from your seat in front of the television and walked to the back of the house.

With confident strides you walked to the little shed at the complete back of the garden and took out your special set of keys, unlocked the three locks on the door before entering and closing it as fast as you could behind you.

As you flicked the switch the hanging lightbulb shone it’s light on the many objects you had inside, you black gloves were laying properly in the middle of your workbench, traps were leaning on the side of the walls and knives were hanging by size in front of you, going from razor sharp to blunt, depending on what mood you were in.

Your eyes went side to side, searching for the perfect things to use as you put your hair in such a way that no strands would be able to found anywhere. You grabbed your gloves and put them on over your sleeves before taking a knife you bought in the convenience store quite some time ago, it was very cheap and used by a lot of families, you even remember your mother using it on your birthday to cut the cake.

Once you were finished you walked back out and locked everything up, going back inside your house and sitting on the couch, waiting to hear the car next door to start. As if on cue you heard your neighbour exiting his house and going to his car, starting it up and leaving for what you were quite sure was the bar.

That was your moment to get ready, you dressed in what could be deemed as “sexy” by the standards of your neighbour.

With a confident smile you looked in the mirror as you thought about the silence you would experience after today.

You decided to go by foot as you didn’t want your car to be seen anywhere near the bar, through your phone you set a few timers for the lights in your house, just in case.

It took a while but you managed to get to the bar, it was already dark and you were very sure that your neighbour was either tipsy at minimum or just drunk.

As you took a deep breath you opened up the door leading to you next victim.

Straight away you headed to the bar while swaying a bit as if you already had a few drinks up, once you got the actual bar and bartender you ordered a drink.

It took about 2 minutes before you could feel eyes looking you up and down, it wasn’t a question of who’s they were. Your suspicions were confirmed as you looked of to the side and saw the man you were looking for staring right at you, sitting by a table.

You took your drink in hand and stared right back as you took a sip, you made sure to have your lips pout a slight bit as you took them of the rim of the glass before licking them as sensually as you could, still looking right back at him.

Hook, line and sinker.

He was smitten and he didn’t even recognize you, the fool.

He curled his finger in the come hither motion, you feigned shyness as you looked away with half lidden eyes before biting your lip, looking back at him and walking slowly towards him.

He seemed very excited from what you could see.

“Hi.”

His smile widened as he heard you speak to him, you hated it, you hated all of it.

“Hello pretty, how you doin’ today?”

With fluttering eyes you looked at him, swaying a bit side to side to make it even more obvious that you were “tipsy”.

“I’m doing good handsome, how about you?” He chuckled at your reply and patted his thigh, obviously asking for you to sit there.

Deciding to be risky you sat down, each leg at the other side of his and your hand without the drink wrapping loosely around his shoulder and your hand scraping the back of his head.

He was truly weak for you, you thought absolutely disgusted.

“I’m doin’ way better now that I’ve got you sitting right here.” He emphasized his last words by moving the leg you were on upwards and by putting his hands on your waist.

You couldn’t wait until you were about to get out of here but despite that you laughed a bit and drunk the rest of your drink before putting it on the table beside you. It was the perfect time.

Your other arm wrapped itself around his other shoulder as you leaning in closer to his ear, making sure to have your lips caress as you spoke.

“You wanna feel even better? I know some things I know you’d enjoy.”

His hands tightened for a moment and his breath went shaky for a second as he took in your words.

“I’d love to see what you can do.”

Standing up you took his hand in yours and led him outside of the building to an alleyway nearby that was shrouded in darkness but still light enough to enough to enjoy yourself from the wonderous sight you knew you’d see soon.

He pinned you against the wall and buried his face in your neck, once you noticed that he was too far gone you took the knife you had hidden in the back of your pants, which was hidden by the jacket you wore.

“Wanna see what I can do?”

He groaned out something that sounded like a yes before he gasped loudly.

Your knife was stuck in the right side of his body, just where you knew where the liver was located.

“Do you like it? I know I do.”

He looked in your eyes as you took the knife out, his hands shakily went to the point of entry as blood started to pool on his clothing.

“Oops.”

With a smile you pushed against his shoulder to make more room before stabbing once again, this time aiming for the lungs, you didn’t want to wait too long.

Elated you watched as the knife went right through, you heartbeat sped up as you couldn’t help yourself to push a little harder on the handle.

He whimpered, his brain not yet having caught up on what you had done. Not yet ready to see the end.

His legs gave out beneath him and he fell flat on his ass, frightened he tried to shuffle behind before he bumped against the wall.

“You know, you’re really loud, why are you so silent now? Don’t you like this? Your other dates didn’t seem to like what you did to them, sometimes I feel bad you know, but, not really.”

You laughed as you squatted down so you could properly look him in the eyes as the red pools of blood got bigger and covered his hands, the light in his eyes was already failing as he started coughing. His eyes widened as he saw and tasted the blood coming from his mouth.

He just kept coughing, gurgling as he tried to speak but the only things that came out were wheezes before he coughed again.

“Don’t worry, you also weren’t the only one.”

A/N: :)

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gentrychild · 4 years

Text

Suspected Traitor Izuku Ideas

Note: Sorry this ended up being super long! I just really love the idea and wanted to put in some ideas of what I think could happen. It was all too long to fit into a couple asks, and I figured you would prefer a submission than 7+ asks in a row. These are also just some fun ideas I was thinking of for the au I thought you might enjoy lol

- - - -

Izuku gets interrogated and at first goes along with the questions. He doesn’t realize why he is there at first, until they ask more and more questions showing they suspect him for something. After the second or third question about his relation to the LOV he pieces it together. They think he’s a villain.

And instead of having a confused smile or nervous laugh, his eyes widen and he whispers “you think I’m the traitor.” It wasn’t hard for him to figure it out, after all he spent so much time analyzing and trying to deduct things quickly from situations where he barely was given any information, and they practically threw the answer in his face. He was probably one of the few students who was fully aware that there was a traitor from looking at the previous attacks.

He starts to shut down after realizing this, and when people start yelling or slamming things out of anger (because no one was actually going to get physical, but that doesn’t mean the rest of the room was off limits) he unconsciously reverts back to his old habits from when he was quirkless.

This can include, but is not limited to:

- A smaller frame to protect vitals and give less room to be hit

- A quite and passive voice to try appeasing their anger

- Distracting himself from the emotional pain by focusing on the physical stuff. Mentally keeping track over where everyone is, what they are doing, and how much of a threat they are to him

- Looking for any and all possible exits, even the ones that would result in him being hurt on his way out, just in case things get worse (and he fears that they may hurt him worse than before. In a world full of quirks, it’s easy for someone worked up to forget how easily they can kill someone, and Izuku probably has experienced more than once a situation that became life or death because a middle schooler was too worked up to process how much damage they were about to do)

- Eyes downcast due to fearing that eye contact would seem like he’s defying them or trying to irritate them in purpose (thanks Bakugou for that one)

- Holding back sudden movements or flinching, when going to the point of possibly hurting himself on purpose to prevent him from acting out.

- Holding his breath every time someone moves, but forcing his body to relax/tense up in case they attack him. When your body tenses up, it can absorb him impact, but can also cause other things like knives or needles to hurt more when they cut/go through the skin. So when there is someone who has a weapon visible (probably a means of intimidation) he quickly figures out which way will hurt less and forces himself to go through with that because of the constant thought of ‘just in case’

- Forcing himself not to cry or break down. That’s what some bullies want, but sometimes it also makes them even more upset. It gives them fuel, and always ends bad for the victim.

The teachers and others accusing him of being the traitor takes these signs as him lying or trying to hide the truth, those who don’t think it’s because he’s lying see the 'experience with interrogations’ aka trauma reactions and think he was trained by the villains to act this way. No one thinks about the fact that some of the reactions are clearly not helpful with interrogations and that the villains would train him to do the opposite (ex: stay calm and keep eye contact. You don’t have anything to hide and looking away makes it seem like you do).

The only two people who know his past refuse to acknowledge or bring it up.

All might doesn’t because he can’t risk the consequences of OFA getting out, but also because he only has a vague idea because of when he was shoeless himself.

Bakugou refuses to acknowledge the signs and the relapsing to his habits from middle school.

No one else realizes the cause, and as a result they accidentally reopen the trauma that Izuku hadn’t healed from. No, he had taken it and stuffed it into a box to avoid acknowledging that he was hurt. So he never talked to anyone about it, and as a result it just festered in his mind. His intrusive thoughts from all the victim-blaming he went through never went away (because let’s be honest, gaslighting and victim-blaming are things he probably went through as a result of the bullying. He couldn’t help being quirkless, but the bullies will latch onto anything and everything they can. And because they wanted to prevent themselves from having anything marked, if they made him think it was his fault then they felt it lowered the chances of them being reported)

During the pause of interrogation when they are having Tsukachi enter and he’s about to come in, he almost send himself into a dissociative/depressive episode because of his thoughts. He forces it back when the doors click open, thinking 'no, it’s just like before. No matter how much it hurts, wait until you’re safe. You’re not safe here, they will use it against you, so you have to wait until you’re alone and safe to finally break down.’

As a result, none of the adults fully realize how broken he is after the trap/interrogation is over. But its only a glimpse that they see, and nothing more. Because Izuku’s learned that weakness = vulnerable = targeted and hurt.

And now that he knows almost all his friends- no, his classmates were involved he knows he can’t break down anywhere near them. He can’t go over and let them know how broken he is or he thinks they’ll turn against him even more.

Someone brings up the 'logical’ aespect of the interrogation and their suspicions before he leaves and Izuku’s thoughts use that and forces it against him. 'It was only logical. Everyone was convinced you were going to hurt them, that you were evil. Of course they had to do it.’ He repeats it like a mantra in his head. 'It’s only logical, they did what they had to, and it’s almost over. You’re almost done, it was just the logical thing to do.’

And why is it this that he repeats this, instead of being angry or upset?

The victim-blaming.

His own intrusive thoughts were fuelled by the victim-blaming, and because it was what hurt the most, it was also what he was most accustomed to.

But when he finally gets back to the dorms, to the 'safety’ of his room, he knows he can’t break down. Not yet. After all, if they went through all that trouble because they thought he was the traitor, who’s to say they didn’t do more? His resurfaced paranoia/anxiety from the trauma makes him search his room for hidden cameras and microphones, desperate for at least one safe-space.

He finds nothing, thank god, but then he keeps pushing back his breakdown in search of exits, ways to avoid the most dangerous people or most likely to turn on him, ways to get by unseen and to avoid any situations that would be like Middle school. He stays up making notes and maps of the school and how to best protect himself because 'You’re already used to this. Shouldn’t have expected anything different. Stupid, idiotic, Deku. You put off finding the saferoutes because you thought it would be better to try playing nice. Look where that got you, now you have to stay up and make up the months of ignoring the inevitable.’

He doesn’t sleep that night, and when it becomes time for class he still hadn’t given himself time to break down. So he returns, but doesn’t pretend to be friends with any of his classmates anymore. He uses the ways he maps, brings out old tactics, just with the hope of making it through the day without being hurt or breaking down.

Lunch comes, but he doesn’t eat. He goes to the roof, finds an elevated area with no cameras and where people are unlikely to see him and sits down. It takes a moment, just a mere second of sitting there alone before he breaks.

He cries and let’s his regret and anger wash over him. All the feelings he had been pushing back finally breaking free and coming loose. He doesn’t eat, he never got the time, and right as he is starting to realize how badly hurt he really is, the bell rings signalling he needed to get to class. So he forces himself up, pushed all his emotions away, and tries to clean himself up in the bathroom.

He ends up in a dissociative state the rest of the way back to class, and when the others ask why he’s acting different or 'weird’, he doesn’t respond. He barely registers anything the rest of the day and when teachers try calling on him, hoping for some kind of reaction, they get nothing. He doesn’t process that he’s being talked to and just sits there dissociating in a desperate attempt of forcing himself not to break down again.

When classes end, the others try talking to him but eventually give up. He slowly realizes after everyone left that he was alone and he picks up his stuff and walks to the dorms on autopilot. He gets to his room and shut the door, and finally let’s himself finish the breakdown from on the roof. This time, though, he finally lets himself cry over everything. The entire past of abuse and neglect from his peers and adult figures in his life (minus his mom), the suicide-baiting, the victim-blaming, the bullying, accusations and mistrust, all of it. And he finally fully, truly breaks.

- - - -

#Ah yes more people who loves to hurt Izuku #Welcome #suspected traitor Izuku AU #submission

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 4 years

Text

HASO, “Contract Killer.”

Hope you guys have a great day!

The room smelled horrible, though that would only be readily noticed by those species that had any acute sense of smell. Though for most everyone, that fact went largely unnoticed, or if it was noticed, the occupants of the room didn’t really care. The walls of the cramped room were lined in rust streaked metal, and large metal crates served as tables and chairs for the assortment of rough and tumble visitors who graced the blackmarket under A136. Human music rolled through the room as a constant background to the din as a beautiful, but rough and tumble woman sang a mournful sea shanty about an astronaut blasted out the airlock freezing to death in his space suit as he looked on at the beauty of the universe.

At the bar two tall Drev bartenders used all four of their hands to prepare drinks for their waiting customers ranging anywhere from, Human, to Kree, to Celzex. Rockus laughter filtered up into the air as men and women gambled with ten sided dice,, and strange glowing chips. The floor below their feet was stained and mottled with unknown substances which had likely never seen mop. When they moved it wasn’t uncommon for them to flash mechanical enhancements, a hand here, or an eye there, some clearly lost to accidents, others…. Perhaps replaced on purpose.

In the throng it wasn’t even uncommon to see alien/human couples blatantly and proudly interacting with one another without garnering so much as a sideways glance from those around them

Drinks poured, staining the bar till the metal rusted and the wood ran dark.

At the side of the room a table sat raised slightly away from the others surrounded by stained and rotting curtains, and at that table sat A Drev. The armor she wore was half Drev and half of medieval human make. One of his shoulders was covered with a metal pauldron and armor that went all the way down one arm. Leather straps criss-crossed her chest. Next to her sat a woman, with beautiful, wavy, honey-blonde hair and bright red lips. She wore mostly black, and a long leather coat.

When she leaned back she rested her large boots on the table spinning a playing card between two fingers.

The Drev looked on into the crowd, her eyes scanning over the people that thronged before her, people and aliens alike, an unwashed mass, looking and waiting for her target, and AH, there he is, just the person she had been told to expect.

He was tall, though the clothing he wore blended so seamlessly into the crowd, he wouldn't have garnered much attention, especially not here.

He wore a dark brown jacket with a grey cowl pulled low over his face. He kept his head down, though she noted the slight bulge at either hip where he likely concealed two weapons.

Which he reached forward, she saw the glittering of a metal gauntlet, either that or a metal hand.

On his shoulder rode a furry little Celzex, though it’s once bright fur had been stained mostly grey and black, probably from some horrible accident.

Beside her Beatrice leaned forward, her red lips parting in a smile, “That him?”

“Yes it appears it is.”

She went to stand, but the Drev pushed her back down, “I already have men on it.”

Beatriss frowned, her full red lips puckering down into a pout, “You never let me have any fun.”

“There will be time for you, yet.”

They watched as the figure pushed his way through the crowd and took a seat at the back of the room. Without, it seemed, any prompting a waitress scurried form the darkness and set a drink down before him. Credits exchanged as the woman vanished back into the crowd.

Two fingers moved forward from the edge of the room, pushing their way through the crowd.

They would have been impossible to pick from the crowd if it wasn’t for their purposeful strides forward.

The figure took a sip from his drink, only the bottom of his chin visible under the hood and part of his right cheek covered in a mechanical mask.

Behind him, the two figures had moved into position. One man reached out to rest a hand on his shoulder, but fast as a striking snake the stranger grabbed the man by the arm tugged him forward and slammed his head painfully into the tabletop knocking him cold almost immediately before snapping to the side blocking a punch by the second man, and then elbowing him directly in the throat.

The two men hit the ground in seconds.

“Not bad.” The Drev muttered in open admiration, and Beatrice looked up at her with an open expression of jealousy. The Drev smiled slightly, the corners of her mouth turning up in the familiar human expression. She liked when Beatrice got jealous.

The sudden brawl had hardly stopped the debauchery taking place around the rest of the room . That was until the Drev, Jeea, rose to her feet and clapped once.

All around her, the entire room seemed to part like the red sea, and at the very end of that part was the man and the two prone bodies.

He did not flinch, barely even seemed surprised as he stood, and walked into the center of the room.

“We can do this the easy way, or we can do this the hard way.”

The man raised his hands, “That depends entirely on you Jeea.” his Drev accent was impeccable, that surprised her.

“Captain Kall, your skills as a warrior impress me,”

The man smiled under his hood, “Than you are easily impressed.”

Jeea snorted slightly, “Come, sit.”

He hummed deep in his chest, not dissimilar to the sound of pleasure so common among her people, “Pity, I was so looking forward to the hard way.”

She waved the otters away, and the music began to play again as the man crossed the room and slid into the booth next to her and Beatrice: who was still pouting, her arms crossed, two long knives held in either hand.

Geea leaned forward and took a better look at the man, with half his mechanical face, mechanical hand and plunging hood.

“You don’t make yourself as difficult to find as I would have assumed.”

He leaned back in his chair as his Celzex companion hopped onto the table. Beatrice ed it with some measure of malice, but even she knew not to mess with a Celzex. It was more than likely the thing had friends, and if it had friends, it also had pirated Celzex weapons.

“Kall…. That is a Vrul name isn’t it.”

The man shrugged, “Could be, though I thought Vrul names tended to have five letters and not four.”

Geea grunted, either way, “Your reputation precedes you, Captain, which is strange considering you haven’t been on our radar long.”

THe man waved over the waitress for another drink, “I make it a habit of keeping off people’s Radar, but you would know all about that.” he glanced around at the bar, “Aren't you concerned that holding operations here will get you noticed by the GA? Last I heard the UNSC had done some operations on this planet.”

Beatrice snorted.

Geea shook her head, “A day long visit by the UNSC’s favorite pet Admiral hardly counts.”

Beatrice spat at the floor making a face, “The GA’s little pet, i would like to cut off h-”

Geea held up a hand, “Now, now Beatrice, it’s not the Admiral we are angry with. He is simply a figurehead, a representation of everything that is wrong with the GA. As far as I know he isn’t so horrible.” She reached out a hand and placed it atop the other woman’s, “He did advocate for a cause near and dear to our hearts.”

Beatrice Made a face, “Still don’t like him.”

The man across from them shifted in his seat, “I hardly see what this has to do with me. Me and my crew try to keep a low profile. GA or Anti-alliance doesn't matter either way. We just want to make money and keep to ourselves.”

“And is piracy generally part of keeping a low profile?”

The man crossed his arms and leaned back in his seat, “I would hardly consider it piracy…. I like to think of it as…. Liberating materials already doomed to be misused.”

“That sounds like piracy but with more steps.” Beatrice muttered.

Geea held up a hand, “No need to get defensive here friend. It’s not like the rest of us are law abiding citizens.” A couple more waiters and waitresses moved forward to refill their drinks, one of them trailing her hand suggestively across the captain’s shoulders.

“We are just here to speak to you, and maybe hire your crew.”

Captain Kell leaned forward slightly in his seat, the mechanical face plate glittering in the light above, “Alright, and what is this job of yours.”

“I want you to Kill Admiral Vir.”

There was a pause the silence between them filled with the rolling conversation from the rest of the room.

“You want me to what!”

“You heard me clearly the first time.”

The man stood nearly tipping over his chair in the process, “That’s it, this conversation is over.”

Beatrice grabbed him by the arm and forced him roughly back into his seat. At That moment, the people sitting at the nearest tables turned around, throwing back their coats to reveal large, and surely illegal submachine guns.

Captain Kell took a seat, hands raised slightly.

Geea leaned forward, “Just hear us out.”

“I’m not a hitman or a mercenary. And the last thing I want to do is put that kind of heat on my people especially not Admiral Fucking Vir, do you think I am insane! I’ve never even done that sort of job. I steal shit, that’s it. I am no killer.”

Geea waited for the man to finish his little tantrum before she continued, “And that is precisely my point isn’t it. No one knows who you are, no one knows who your ship is. In fact, your ship doesn't have a beacon, which means you are not properly registered with the UNSC or the GA, meaning that they cannot track, find or know where you are.” Captain kell began to laugh, “Are you fucking serious. Killing him while he is on-world is one thing, but killing him while he is off-world is a completely different can of worms. You would have to be able to board his ship, the motherfuking OMEN, the most advanced spaceship known to man or alien with Celzex weapons, and Vrul shields. Oh yeah, and let’s not forget that he has an entire fucking clan of Drev onboard, a shitload of marines, oh and lets not forget one of those drev is a SAINT.”

Geea leaned forward, “Someone does their homework.”

Captain Kell laughed, “Does my homework, more like reads the news. He’s got the media crawling up his ass half the time. If it isn't a picture of his dumbass on a magazine cover, than its a viral video of some asshole marine on his crew showing off all the dumb stuff they get to do onboard.”

“See, that is exactly the sort of thinking we need, and we know your ship. We know it has the most advanced boarding capabilities in the known universe regardless of whether you are trying to hide that fact or not. If anyone can board his ship and take care of his men, then it’s you.” She pointed at the Celzex on the table, “Powerful friends, and with our help, I have no doubt that we could do it.

He shook his head emphatically and crossed his arms over his chest, “I don’t understand, I thought you said earlier that you liked him. He did help the LFIL.” he glanced between the two of them suddenly unsure that he had read them correctly. He had, but she did enjoy watching him squirm.

“I like the man as a person. He honestly does seem like a nice guy, funny, charming, awkward in an endearing way. But this isn't about my personal feeling of the man, this is about my beliefs as a Drev, this is…. Political, and sometimes good people have to go to make way for something better.”

Captain Kell held out his hands, “I guess I just don’t see your vision, business is going very well for me right now. I doubt I would profit from the collapse of the GA. I can really only see this getting worse for me.”

Geea frowned, “The GA has taken over my homeworld to mine our holy battlegrounds. It has taken away the traditions of my people.”

“Didn’t the traditions of your people recently change.”

Behind them, the room had sprouted into a rocus crowd of dancers as the woman began singing about the queen of Pirates.

Geea crossed her arms, “This isn’t about the saint, she is doing what she can for our Drev in the way she believes is best, but I believe there is a better way. I will follow her religious traditions as I believe in the old ways, but I also believe that our home planet should not have been desecrated by the GA in the first place.” She waved a hand around the room, “The GA has too much power and far to much influence, one of these days the idea of a democracy is going to fade away until they take all the ower for themselves, and, I for one, will not be ruled by a tyrant.”

Captain Kell didn’t seem impressed by her argument, “The GA has existed as a democratic republic since long before the Drev and the humans were involved. What makes you think that they are going to change so rapidly.”

“Because I know humans.”

Even though she couldn’t see his face, she could almost guess at the slight raise of his eyebrow, “Oh really, you know humans do you? How fascinating, tell me more.”

Beatrice snorted.

Geea glowered at him.

Beatrice smiled “Se not wrong.” She grinned slyly, “She really does KNOW humans rather well.”

Kell tapped his fingers on the table, “Knowing someone in the biblical sense is hardly knowing humans. Admiral Vir is likely helping to keep the democratic nature of the GA against humans and otters who might try to change that, so forgive me if I See nothing good that can come of this.” He stood again this time doing his best to ignore the armed men and women on the next table over.

“How about enough money for you and your to retire to a small moon on the other side of the galaxy.” he paused and turned to look at her.

“And I should believe you because?”

Beatrice reached under her chair and pulled out a holopad sliding it across the table so he could see, “Take a look for yourself, Half of that upfront, and then half after we take out Vir, payment drops if you hurt the Saint.”

Eyes still obscured, she had trouble seeing his face, but after a moment he nodded, “Alright, I can take you up on that offer, but if you fuck us over, I will make you reget it.” he turned to look at her one last time, “Meet me at the dock when you’re ready. If I am going to do this, you better be damn straight that I am not going to do it alone.

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willowbird · 3 years

Note

For the prompt thing: Andrew/Neil, trope: sickness/injury, location: violently orange yacht. Have fun! Thanks =)

Ooh definitely!

Since no AU was specified I made it kinda intentionally ambiguous.

Also, so you know, I 100% sat down to write this as a cutesy seasick/comfort w/teasing sorta fic. Then, idk, i got a lil bloodthirsty. Just a little bit, though.

Warning for mentions of blood.

---

"Are you really going to hide down here for the whole time?" Kevin's voice was both tired and annoyed, and just for that Andrew didn't even bother to acknowledge his presence, let alone his words.

Instead, he pointedly turned the page in his book as if there was no one about to bother him at all. They had been out on the water for a whole six hours. Andrew had watched the shoreline get smaller and smaller as they pulled away and when it was just a fine sketch of a line along the horizon he'd gone investigating. Which was how he'd found this hidden little nook in the storage hull or whatever the big room of supplies was in the belly of the boat.

The monstrosity was technically a yacht. Which, by definition, is a pleasure liner - a boat intended for entertainment. This "yacht" was big enough to not only carry but fully house and supply a contingent of college athletes. It was suspiciously fortified and had enough supplies stockpiled away that Andrew was beginning to wonder if he hadn't been kidnapped because it seemed just a little bit excessive for a "weekend away".

Personally, he didn't think his problems were going to go away or even be at all eased by an attempted escape via ugly boat. But he wasn't the only one with those problems. He wasn't the only one hurting. And after almost a year... well, he would grudgingly tag along, but he didn't have to participate.

The damn thing was also the most grotesque shade of claw-your-eyes-out dayglow orange that Andrew had ever seen. Which honestly was one of the reasons he'd already gone inside, as of by hiding in the deepest, darkest corner of the vessel he'd save himself a migraine.

"And Andrew? The Lady Fox has luxury suites for each of us. You can't even hide in your room? You choose to come... here?" Out of the corner of his eye, Andrew saw Kevin give his choice of hideaways a disparaging look.

Without taking his eyes from the page, Andrew lifted one hand and offered Kevin his one-fingered opinion.

The next thing he heard was Kevin's annoyed scoff, followed by his retreating footsteps. Satisfied, Andrew snuggled down a little bit deeper into the conveniently-placed hammock he'd found already strung up when he initially explored the place. The book he was reading had a bit of a slow start, but at least three of the side-characters were interesting enough to carry him through until the plot picked up.

Except, he only got two more pages along when he heard a sudden and quite ominous thump that was accompanied by a muffled groan. The book in his hand was instantly replaced with one of the knives he kept tucked in the armbands he was never without. Some people might call Andrew paranoid for bringing weapons onto a boat where he was surrounded only by close friends and family, with a literal ocean between them and harm. Those people would probably be dead right now, gutted in their sleep by a murderous stowaway. Or maybe that thump was one of his family, being murdered by the murderous stowaway.

Maybe it was Kevin.

That thought put a spike of fear in his heart, but right in its wake came a surge of deep rage.

No. He would not allow it. He had already lost... Enough had happened. He refused to let Kevin be hurt as well.

Andrew got out of the hammock as soundlessly and gracefully as possible, searching the shadows of the only half-lit cavernous space as he inched toward the source of the sound. He kept the blade poised to attack with one hand and pulled out his cell phone with the other. Two thumb-swipes later the had the flashlight enabled.

It wasn't Kevin. Nope. Definitely not Kevin.

Not-Kevin was crumpled in a heap in front of a stack of supply crates that it looked like he'd rolled off of, thus causing the thump Andrew had heard. The groan of pain, however, was clearly not from the fall. Or, well, not just from the fall.

"Who are you?" Andrew demanded, shining the light right on the person's face. They looked like a guy, probably. Short-ish hair and made up of more angles than curves - though it was really hard to tell more than that because the blood-soaked clothes were a little bit distracting.

The injured man(?) on the floor let out a choked, broken sound that Andrew belatedly realized was a laugh. It was so rasped and mangled, he'd almost thought the stowaway was about to launch into their death-throes. Judging by the bloodstains and way the person shook and swayed precariously while trying to push up to their hands and knees, that actually might not have been that far off a guess.

Then the stowaway, the person, the man, said, "Nothing."

Andrew froze. "What did you say?"

"You asked who I was," the man said, and Andrew was sure it was a man now. Moreover, the rough edges around his voice may have been tight with pain and possibly disuse, but even without Andrew's near-perfect memory he would have knows the sharp slashes of that voice anywhere.

The man looked up and in the white glow of Andrew's phone light there was no mistaking how immeasurably blue his eyes were. Like the sky painted from an artist's favorite memory. Like the hint of eternity in a crystal sphere.

Neil smiled. His face was dotted with dried blood and marked with new scars, but the expression still somehow turned the whole world on its head to make it a softer, warmer, safer place.

Andrew wasn't sure what hit the ground first, his phone, his knife, or his knees as he skidded to the floor beside Neil, reaching for him. "Neil... Neil. Fuck. The blood. It's yours? FUCK!" He was babbling, but his own voice was distant to his ears as he touched Neil for the first time in almost a year, as he gathered him close and searched for the source of all that blood.

Shaky hands reached for him and Andrew didn't even think about batting them away. He leaned into their touch even as he turned his face toward the stairs and raised his voice to a shout: "KEVIN! AARON! SOMEONE! NOW!"

"H-hey now, Andrew. Andrew, shh, it's okay. I'm okay, it's okay. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I never meant to be away this long."

"Shut up with your fucking 'sorry's Neil, I don't want your fucking 'sorry' - I want you here and alive and not dying in my goddamn arms I am NOT doing this with you, do you hear me junkie?"

Andrew felt like his entire system was in overdrive, his mind moving too fast and his nerve ending firing off in matching cylinders. They looked for Neil for months. And when they finally got a breakthrough via that fucking miserable twat Jean Moreau, it was only to find out that Neil was likely dead.

Those hands cupped his face, and even though they trembled against his cheeks he still touched Andrew like he was holding something incredibly precious. Something that needed care and protection lest it drop or be crushed.

"I promise, Drew. I did not drag myself halfway back around the world just to die in your arms."

"Do not even attempt to give me that, Neil. That is exactly the kind of dramatic shit you would do."

"Nah," Neil protested with a rough laugh. "Definitely more Aaron's thing. He's such a petty bitch."

"Fuck you," Andrew spat out, but a bubble of what might have bene a laugh caught in his chest. There were running footsteps coming their way, thundering down the steps and into the room.

"Andrew?! Andrew what-- oh my God. Oh my God. AARON GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW!" Kevin was still shouting as he came to land beside the two of them, and Andrew almost pulled another knife and stabbed him in the fucking eye as he reached for Neil.

In fact, he didn't even realize he had drawn a knife until Kevin jerked back so suddenly he fell on his ass.

"Jesus! Andrew it's just me. He is covered in blood he needs a hospital!"

"It's mostly not mine," Neil chimed in as Andrew struggled to rein in the half-crazed beast that had taken over the arm not holding Neil. The monster inside him was in fits, and its growl was rumbling in Andrew's throat - kept in check only by the slow stroking of Neil's fingers down his jaw.

"Mostly not yours," Kevin echoed, and even through the haze of Andrew's protective rage, he could hear how dumbfounded the other man was.

"Mhm. And I stitched myself up already."

"Stitched yourself up," said Kevin. Then he looked toward the stairs and bellowed: "AARON!"

Neil sighed and the exasperation in that sound was so fucking familiar that it knocked the beast far enough off its temper for Andrew to take control again. He took a slow breath, then another. When Neil looked up at him again, Andrew asked, "Why? How?"

Neil grimaced. The expression must have been painful, Andrew realized as he watched him - because now that he was really looking he could tell that those new scars on his face were less 'scars' and more 'barely healed torture wounds'.

All Neil said was, "It's a long story."

As Aaron finally came half-falling down the steps on wobbly sea-legs, Andrew decided he would leave it be - for now.

The important thing was that Neil was here, Neil was alive, and nothing - fucking nothing - was going to take him away again.

#asks #AFTG prompts #aftg fanfic #aftg ficlet #andreil #reunion fic #mentions of blood #andrew minyard #neil josten #i have no idea what happened dont ask me lol #ask neil - hes the troublemaker #protective andrew minyard #hurt neil josten

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inkribbon796 · 3 years

Text

What a Beautiful Wedding Ch. 5: For the Dancing and the Dreaming

Summary: Dark and his family try and get out of their little reality bubble.

A/N: I should have had this out yesterday, but someone *glares at Chase* were being difficult.

Title comes from the song “For the Dancing and the Dreaming” from How to Train your Dragon 2.

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8

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Channel 2

//////~~~~//////~~~~//////~~~~//////

The instant Dark mentally came back to himself he pulled everyone back into the Manor. But he also found that Anti and Henrik were within the same bubble as well and grabbed them as well.

The instant he started explaining things everyone started waking up.

“Who knows how long we’ll be here,” Dark finished.

“At least ve’re avake,”[1] Henrik decided from where he was standing with Chase.

Illinois, who had only been away for the past couple of minutes, was trying to remember where he’d been before this before remembering he’d been at his wedding and flying into an immediate panic.

“Eric!” Illinois realized with horror.

He got up and raced through the front door, he planned on running all the way to the park but the instant his feet were outside the door he was already reaching the chain link fence to Eric’s backyard.

But Illinois was not deterred, he was getting his fiancé back if it was the last thing he did. Illinois practically vaulted himself over the chain link fence.

“Eric, dulcito[2],” Illinois called up outside his window before thinking: “screw it!” and used his lock picks to break in and start creeping towards Eric’s room. He’d save punching this fake Derek until he was sure Eric was safe.

Just because he wasn’t real, and more importantly dead, that didn’t mean he could cause Eric a lot of pain.

Eric was asleep when Illinois walked up to his bed and shook him away.

“Dulcito,[2] we’re going home.”

Eric screamed in surprise, and Illinois held his hands up.

“It’s me, it’s me,” Illinois said, already starting to cry in relief. “We need to get home, we got dragged in and . . . please forgive me.”

Eric flinched before letting out a quiet gasp, “Illy?”

He practically threw himself into Illinois’s arms, starting to sob profusely as Illinois held him.

“I’m so sorry, I should have rescheduled the wedding, it should have been the happiest day of your life,” Illinois apologized.

“I wanna go home,” Eric told him, and went to move before he felt a sharp pain stab through his legs, mostly from stress, mostly from not having his actual good prosthetics all day and having to make do with bad ones.

“Eric?” Illinois asked in distress.

“My legs,” Eric sobbed in pain.

“I got you,” Illinois promised, picking him up in his arms.

Eric clung tightly to Illinois’s shirt, and then coiled up when a pounding came from the other side of the door.

The timid young man let out a terrified whimper.

“Eric what’s going on in there?” Derek yelled, trying to break down the door. “Who’s voice is that? Open this door!”

“Shit,” Illinois hissed, prepared to fight Derek.

“Illinois should start walking, quickly before Derek can enter,” the Host spoke up.

Illinois and Eric startled but out of reflex, Illinois began to start walking. He took two steps and suddenly he wasn’t in Eric’s home, he was running into his own. And the whiplash just about made him go unconscious. If he hadn’t been aware he was in a sitcom from hell, he wouldn’t have felt a thing.

“What was that?” Illinois looked around wildly. They were walking into the living room of the Manor.

“The Host used a screen wipe,” the Host smiled.

“This whole place is a shithole,” Illinois snarled as he rushed to carefully set Eric down on the comfiest-looking couch. “The laugh tracks were already giving me a migraine, thanks for stopping them.”

“The Host was not a fan of them either,” the Host agreed.

The instant he realized they were back in the house, Dark checked them over briefly when they came over and then Illinois set Eric on the couch and the two of them almost immediately fell asleep, wrapped up together. Dark stretched a blanket over them and then walked into the kitchen.

Mostly to collect his thoughts and figure out some kind of plan of attack. If it was just himself, Dark would worm his way out and hunt the Actor down. But he wasn’t alone. There was Lunky and Eric to consider, along with the triplets. All of them had no hope of standing against the Actor on their own. He couldn’t see what was out there, and didn’t want to take his chances.

“How yeh holdin’ up?”[3] Chase asked.

Dark was sitting at the large dinner table, he had a coffee in front of him. He wasn’t sure where or when he’d gotten the coffee from but he had it.

The sooner he was out of here, the better. He didn’t like how easily it was for the anomaly to pull him around.

“I’d think you’d want out as soon as possible,” Dark told him.

“Well nothin’s[4] happened yet,” Chase told him and walked over. “Sides,[5] at this point we should prolly[6] stick together.”

“You can do that perfectly fine in any other room,” Dark told him, trying to sound uncaring but he could still remember waking up with Chase in the morning.

“Yeah, but I was worried about yeh,” Chase told him, not taking a seat yet and just leaning against the table. “Sides,[5] Bim was growlin’[7] at me, so I decided ta[8] give him his space.”

“I’m fine,” Dark told him sharply.

“Kay,”[9] Chase agreed, not wanting to push him. The two of them were quiet for a bit.

“What do you want?” Dark growled.

“I told yeh[10],” Chase started.

“No, you’ve given me some thinly veiled plot,” Dark glared, “but not what you actually want. Is it the triplets? Is it boredom? Everyone wants something.”

“What if I just want you? Have yeh[10] thought about that?” Chase asked.

“Don’t play with me, Brody,” Dark scoffed angrily. “What do you want?”

Something in Chase just snapped, something that was always compelling him to take care of Dark. “I’m not fookin’ jokin’. I actually wanna be with yeh. Yeh frustratin’, self-absorbed piece ‘a shite. If I was gonna lead yeh on, I’d be actin’ like Wilf.”[11]

Dark’s jaws clicked shut and he glared at Chase.

Sighing, Dark tried to tune out the anomaly, which was whispering to him. The most tempting of whispers. To just push everyone else out and the anomaly could give Dark what he wanted. Could give him the power he wanted. Could give him a version of Wilford that would never look away from him. Children who would always need him.

It was so tempting, but Dark knew better. The anomaly couldn’t give him that infinitely. It would falter, it just wanted a living battery to feed off of.

“Dark?” Chase whispered, taking a seat next to the Entity. His tone gentler as his anger was fading.

“I can open a portal to let you through, but I don’t know how long I can keep it open,” Dark told him. “I also don’t know what’s out there. We’ll have to be careful. We need to make sure the weaker spawnlings do not go out first.”

“Sounds good ta[8] me, but heads up, Illinois isn’t goin’[12] anywhere without yah[10],” Chase chuckled. “Kid’s a little needy when it comes ta[8] yah[10].”

“Illinois has Eric now, he doesn’t need me,” Dark corrected. “I was safe in here, he was a child again. Once we go back out I have to prepare his territory, I have all these arrangements to make and—”

“Dark, Dark,” Chase urged. “Listen ta yerself. Yer Illinois’s dad.”[13]

“Wilford is his father,” Dark reinforced.

“Bubbles didn’t raise him, you did,” Chase reminded sharply. “Wilf went off an’[14] did whate’er[15] the hell he wanted. You made sure the kids were safe. Granted he didn’t have a choice sometimes but the point stands.”

“I can’t have children,” Dark said, but it was his blue soul that put the words there. “I’m not allowed near them. Demons don’t feel things like love or joy, they just exist.”

“We both know that’s not true,” Chase told him, desperately trying to get through to him. “Yeh[10] adore those kids. E’eryone[16] in this whole fookin’[17] town knows that.”

Dark went quiet, hanging his head, he didn’t have a firm rebuttal for that. “I . . . I’m not . . .”

“Those kids are yers[18] as much as they are his. Our boys an’[14] Tempus are just as much yers[18] as they are mine,” Chase told him. “Yeh can have ‘em an’ see ‘em just ‘cause yeh want ta. Not because yeh need ta pay fer ‘em.”[19]

Chase mentally froze because that last part had just slipped out, he’d never considered . . . He mentally thought about Memento and Mori and how the two of them would show him knives and things Dark had just given them. Of Illinois and his adventurers and power within the city. Or Bim and how Dark just let him literally eat people. “Dark yeh know yeh don’t have ta buy yer own kids’ attention, right? They fookin’ love yeh.”[20]

Dark made a disbelieving scoff.

“Dark, they compete fer yer attention whene’er yer in the room,”[21] Chase told him. “Why do yeh[10] think Bim an’[14] Illinois are fightin’[22] all the time?”

“Siblings just do that,” Dark dismissed.

Chase looked up, “Oh my how are yeh[10] this fookin’[17] dense? Dark, yer[23] lucky yer[23] cute.”

A slightly darker grey blush briefly spread across Dark’s cheeks, he looked away from Chase for a second.

“If that’s how yeh[10] think siblings are supposed ta[8] act, did Damien an’[14] Celine participated in death matches or somethin’[24]?” Chase commented, trying to lighten the mood.

“Something to that effect,” Dark admitted. “Celine was always the favorite because she was able to perform magic. Their father was very harsh with Damien because he was a null. If he hadn’t died the way he did, he would have surely become a demon.”

“Yer[25] old man was a fooker[26],” Chase told him. “Maybe I should have Host use the anomaly ta[8] brin’[27] him back so I can kick him in the dick.”

“Only if I can kill him for keeping me prisoner in his house for decades,” Dark promised.

Chase smiled, before really looking at Dark. “I was serious early.”

“About which topic?” Dark asked.

“I’m exactly where I want ta[8] be,” Chase promised, finally saying when he’d been trying to remember to tell the Entity for months now. “There’s no one else I want ta[8] be with.”

“You’ll get bored,” Dark told him.

“Yeh[10] managed ta[8] keep stuff interestin’[28] in all the years I’ve known yeh[10],” Chase smiled.

“You’re human,” Dark reminded.

“Depends on who yeh[10] ask these days, don’t think I’ve got many ‘a[29] those years left,” Chase confessed. “Henz an’ Marv prolly don’t either. ‘Sides, if someone does manage ta kill me, I’ll make sure my ghost comes back an’ haunts yeh. I’ll bang some pots an’ shite. Make sure yeh know it’s me.”[30]

Dark’s brow furrowed, he was still looking for something. Then, “You’re with the heroes, if you wanted to be with me, you wouldn’t have turned me down when I asked.”

“That wasn’t me turnin’ yeh down, that was me sayin’ no ta bein’ yer hired gun,”[31] Chase told him in exasperation. “I don’t mind the dates, but I’m not killin’ fer yeh.”[32]

Dark wasn’t looking at him, Chase inched a little closer.

“Here, I’ll use my regular equipment, we can make it look howe’er realistic an’ fancy yeh want, an’ I’m there. But I’m not killin’ on yer order. Defending yeh or the kids is one thing. But becomin’ yer private hitman is off the table.”[33]

“That sounds reasonable,” Dark told him.

Chase just about had the urge to lean in all the way and kiss him. But he felt it was all going too fast. This was still so new. So he didn’t.

Instead, Wil broke the silence.

“Awww,” Wilford suddenly appeared next to them, smiling and wrapping his arms around the two of them. “Look at the two of you.”

“Don’t push yer[25] luck, Bubbles,” Chase snapped at him.

Wilford just hugged them tighter, pressing his face closer to Chase’s until the marksman pushed Wil away and kicked him in the shins, cursing at him as he did so. Dark rolled his eyes as he watched them.

//////~~~~//////~~~~//////~~~~//////

Outside the bubbles, the heroes were busy popping the next one they’d jumped into. Freeing Nate, Mare, Marvin, and Quackity among the other heroes, villains, and civilians they’d pulled free.

Phantom was a bit disoriented and started looking around, trying to find an easy escape.

“I had awesome power, this better be worth it,” Quackity rolled his eyes as he looked around. “Where’s Dream?”

“Still in one of the bubbles,” Punz answered.

Quackity stared at Punz for a little bit before smiling, “Hey Punz, how much would I have to pay you to have us just leave Dream in there?”

“Twice what you pay Purpled,” Punz told him, checking his guns.

“Fuck!” Quackity hissed, kicking some rubble. “Come on, dude!”

Another rumble passed through the area as one of the bubbles began to ripple violently and two tendrils snapped out of it, one shot out like lightning and attached itself to the bubble Dark was in while the other snatched up Phantom and pulled him in.

When the first tendril latched on it dragged Dark away from Chase and Wil and before anyone had any time to think it yanked him in and Dark’s bubble popped. The bubble started rapidly growing in size, and it yanked the smallest bubble into it and consumed it. It stopped swelling when it was twice its former size.

“The fuck was that?” Illinois shouted from where he’d dropped to the ground, looking around wildly. “Was that the Actor?”

“No, the Actor does not have the anomaly,” the Host said as he began inspecting the area with his own aura. “That bubble contains Techno and Phil and with the absence of other stories, the anomaly is desperately trying to keep what it does have. Its hold is weakening. Which means the Host will not be able to keep the Actor at bay for much longer.”

“Do you know who are in the other bubbles?” Ponk asked. “Be really nice to have fucking Skeppy right now.”

“I’m right here,” Marvin shot at him.

“I give you one of these books and Skeppy will kill me,” Ponk told him.

“Hey, wait a second, is that one ‘a[29] the,” Marvin recognized the spell book he had as one of the cursed tomnes he’d been trying to get from the Server for months now.

Ponk held the book to their chest, backing up, “Uh . . .”

Sam shouldered his way in-between, shoving Marvin back as he summoned his trident. “We don’t have time to wait around.”

Ponk just stared up at Sam, leaning into him before they looked back at the Host. “So who’s where? Where’s Skeppy and Bad?”

“That one,” the Host gestured to the bubble higher up, “however it needs to be loosened by another two bubbles before it pops. There are too many powerful demons in there powering it.”

“Okay,” Ponk sighed in frustration.

“Techno, Philza, Big Man, and Ghostbur,” the Host pointed with his aura to the largest bubble that Dark and Phantom had been dragged into.

He continued to the farthest one, “That one has the Actor and all of Silver’s friends.”

“Fucker,” Silver spat, trying to fly towards that bubble at top speed but bounced off. “Give me my friends back!”

“And the last one’s got the Sides in it?” Bing asked from where the Google androids were encircled around him.

“That’s the strongest one,” Nate grumbled in frustration. “Why’s he in that one?”

“Because the entire legate is in there, it is likely it will be one of the last to pop for that reason. On its own it’s indefinitely sustainable.”

“Shit, he’s like a living battery,” Nate hissed.

“I’m going in,” Illinois decided, looking at the bubble Dark was in.

“Stay here with Explosion Boy,” Chase told Illinois, gesturing to Eric.

“My dad’s—” Illinois started to shout.

“Let us handle it, we can’t have all ‘a[29] our magically powerful people in one easy ta[8] capture area, stay with yer[25] fiancé,” Chase told him. “I’ll make sure nothin’[34] happens ta[8] him.”

“If I see there are any problems, I’m going in,” Illinois told him.

“Fine, that’s fine,” Chase told him, then he looked back at Jackie. “Jackie, come on.”

The Host lowered the bubble Dark had been dragged into and then ripped a hole in the bubble long enough for Jackie and Chase to go in.

//////~~~~//////~~~~//////~~~~//////

Channel 6

//////~~~~//////~~~~//////~~~~//////

Jackie and Chase walked in and a wave passed over them as their outfits changed. Snow buffeted them as they stood in thick warming fur coats and wool clothes.

Jackie was still in his mask but their clothes colors had changed to deep purples and dark reds

“Let’s go,” Chase yelled over the snow as they followed the road and hoped it would lead to a town.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Accessibility Translations:

1. At least we’re awake.

2. sweetheart

3. How are you holding up?

4. nothing’s

5. Besides

6. probably

7. growling

8. to

9. Okay

10. you

11. I’m not fucking joking. I actually want to be with you. You frustrating, self-absorbed piece of shit. If I was going to lead you on, I’d be acting like Wilf.

12. going

13. Listen to yourself. You’re Illinois’s dad.

14. and

15. whatever

16. everyone

17. fucking

18. yours

19. You can have them and see them just because you want to. Not because you need to pay for them.

20. Dark, you know that you don’t have to buy your own kids’ attention, right? They fucking love you.

21. Dark, they compete for your attention whenever you’re in the room,

22. fighting

23. you’re

24. something?

25. your

26. fucker

27. bring

28. interesting

29. of

30. Henz and Marv probably don’t either. Besides, if someone does manage to kill me, I’ll make sure my ghost comes back and haunts you. I’ll bang some pots and shit. Make sure you know it’s me.

31. That wasn’t me turning you down, that was me saying no to being your hired gun

32. I don’t mind the dates, but I’m not killing for you.

33. Here, I’ll use my regular equipment, we can make it look however realistic and fancy you want, and I’m there. But I’m not killing on yer order. Defending you or the kids is one thing. But becoming your private hitman is off the table.

34. nothing

#superhero au #masks and maladies #darkiplier #ahwm illinois #illinois the adventurer #eric derekson #chase brody #wilford warfstache #the host #darkaverage #darkstache #angst #feels #what else are they supposed to do with these feels?#dark’s got a lot of issues

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