#Mentioned kidnapping

[pencil-for-a-dog]

John, grabbing Arlo by the collar and yelling at his face: YOU THREW MY MOM IN A LAB FOR FIFTEEN YEARS AND KILLED MY DAD FOR WRITING A BOOK.

Arlo: What's wrong with him?

Uhhh... Idk, maybe he just told you his mom was kidnapped and HIS DAD MURDERED-

[bafflement]

Grief And Old Wounds, They Too Scar. [Deaged Oz AU]

I went with emotional scarring instead of physical for this one.

Thank you @remnants-of-rwby-events for running this, I'm having an awful lot of fun.

Be aware you might need tissues ready for this.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/58620715

Plain text:

As he stood at the balcony, watching his granddaughters at play, Nicolas couldn’t help the slightly sad smile. They were happy, healthy and cherished, loved. Everybody loved those girls, even if Jacques didn’t always show it. But today wasn’t about his son in law. The man wasn’t even in Atlas right now, something about another business trip. He grimaced slightly, knowing that it was Winter’s birthday tomorrow, but that hadn’t stopped him. At least Willow was still here for her daughter’s big day. He already knew what she wanted, she hadn’t been able to stop talking about a real weapon, instead of the blunted training sword she’d had the use of over the last year. Winter wanted to be a huntress and he was so very proud of her, even as he worried that if she took that path, he might lose her in the end. But it was her life, she was so sure already. Jacques hated it, of course, but he rather thought that might have at least partially influenced her decision. She wasn’t a teenager, not yet, but she was already bound and determined to go her own way, forge her own path. He couldn’t imagine that she could get less stubborn as she aged, though he had raised two teenagers, he knew what they were like.

… he knew what it was like to lose a child, too. He couldn’t bear it if he lost her, or Weiss if the younger girl continued following in her sister’s footsteps. He was thankful that Whitley had yet to show any interest, though he thought that day might still come. He blinked, realising his knuckles ached and looked down to see that he was bleeding slightly. He’d cut himself on the metalwork, mind too far away to even notice that he’d done it. That was getting more common these days, too. Being old was something he never thought that he’d truly face, though he hoped, oh how he hoped, that those girls would. That Whitley would. That Willow would. That maybe, somewhere far away, his lost youngest son could, too.

Oh, he knew that the likelihood that Winter was still alive somewhere was slim at best, he’d been told it enough times over the years, but he was still his son, still his boy. He hadn’t gone with poor, brave Nicky that terrible day that his oldest son had died and he’d live with the regret for the rest of his life. When they’d bought the body back, scarcely six months after Winter had been kidnapped…

He closed his eyes briefly against the image, against the pain. Against the knowledge that, even if the gods were kind for once, there was at least one uncle neither of the cheerful girls outside could ever meet. He felt tears well at the edges of his eyes and swiped them away angrily. It always amazed him, that he somehow still had tears to shed. If there had been an allowance, then he would have used his share long ago. Nicky, Winter… his beautiful boys. His to love, his to protect. He’d failed both of them, in the end.

He wouldn’t fail the family he had left. He couldn’t, he needed to at least try to teach them as much as he could, hope that by doing so he could at least prolong their lives. Hunters… didn’t always live long. He was well aware that he was the exception to the rule, but if two of his family could manage it, surely the girls could, too? Fria was still alive after all, and she’d often been in even more danger than he had, especially considering… well, certain pieces of information.

Knowing the maidens were real didn’t help his dread. The likelihood that either of Willow’s daughters would become one wasn’t high even though he didn’t know just how it happened. He trusted his sister not to risk her great nieces, that she would protect them once he was gone. He thought he still had several years in him, but he could be wrong. Everything had felt heavier recently, the grief that had been present in his life since his wife died, then his sons those few too short years afterwards. He fancied he might be able to feel his death slowly approaching. But he had time enough for this. Time to set things up so that they had funds of their own to fall back on, separate from the SDC. He couldn’t guarantee them a legacy after he was dead, control of the company had long since left his hands, though he didn’t think Jacques was fool enough to risk losing what he had built up. But this, days like this… memories? Those he could give them.

It had been so hard, at first. Presented with a new born granddaughter that Willow had named for her brother. It had gotten easier after the first few months, when she had shown none of the health issues that had so plagued his son. That she gravitated towards blue was helpful, too, of course. She was her own person, though the nickname he had given her those first months, while it still hurt too much to say her name, had stuck. His Storm. Stubborn, unyielding, though he liked to think there was a flicker of her uncle’s gentle spirit there, too. Maybe he was seeing things, hoping for things that weren’t there, but he rather thought Weiss might have inherited that too, below all the high society manners that had been instilled in her by her parents, that was. Maybe that might help them to grow beyond the roles that Jacques seemed already to be grooming them for. He turned his gaze briefly into the room behind him, Whitley quietly reading on a chair. His eyes itched again. He shook his head, willing the sudden phantom of Winter, doing the same thing so long ago, to dissipate. Snowflake was never that healthy, after all. If he’d been there, he’d have been tucked in under a blanket. Unlike Whitley, he would have yearned to be out there with the girls. Whitley had that choice, yet chose not to.

Whitley was so serious already. Too serious, maybe, an echo of himself instead of any of the other children he’d raised, known. He couldn’t love him the less for it, but he was too young to be cooped up inside. It was a lost cause to try to convince the boy of that, though. He’d tried, so many times, but had never quite succeeded. It didn’t help that the girls tended to ignore him, too. He’d hoped Whitley might have joined him, but though he’d offered, his youngest grandchild had just shaken his head, looking dismissive before returning to his book. The dismissive look was utterly adorable, though he knew he was biased. Willow was busy elsewhere, he needed to be here for his grandson even if he itched to join the girls in their play.

He would have done, once. He’d have scooped Whitley up and taken him with him, though he was too scared now, that he might drop him. So much had changed over the last year, he’d gotten sicker, weaker. Older. Was this what it had been like, then, for Winter? To want to do all the things he saw others around him were capable of, yet being unable to? Was that why he thought so much more about him now than he ever had before? Oh he’d never, ever have forgotten them, but recently they seemed to haunt his every breath, every second thought. Nicky’s pride, his eyes glinting with determination as he’d told him about the protest rally. His insistence that, at fifteen, he was more than old enough to join in, to fight for what was right. That Winter would have wanted him to, even though his brother would never have been able to join in.

The sweet smile Winter had given him, eyes sleepy the last night he’d ever been able to tuck his youngest son into bed. The stuffed rabbit that he’d kept so carefully, thinking it would surely be only a few days before they’d find him. A week. A month. A year…

An eternity.

All he wanted, at this point, was just one more moment with the children that he’d lost.

But he couldn’t, not yet. Not when there were living children that depended on him, when his granddaughters were only really watched by him and Klein. Just two people to stand between them and the possibility that they might be snatched, too.

Oh, the kidnapping ring was long gone, everybody was certain of that much. They’d gone dark for months before they found the first of them, dead and discarded like the trash that they were. But the children they’d snatched? There’d never been any trace of any of them. They’d searched so hard over the years, but to no avail. There was never a day that went by that he didn’t blame himself. Just like Hawke did. Like Reyne, like Simeon. Like so many other bereaved parents.

Atlas was powerful, but, in the end, even their resources had never found them. Even those he’d paid so much to use their semblances to find the children never had. Winter had been so frail, so sickly… had he even lived to adulthood? Could he have done? No aura, no semblance… unless he’d somehow unlocked it since… no. No, he wasn’t going to think about that, not today.

He felt a tug at his shirt and glanced down to find Whitley, book neatly placed on the chair behind him, standing by his side. He hadn’t even noticed that the boy had moved, though he could be worryingly silent at times. He wondered if that might be his semblance, one day, before shaking his head. There was time enough to find that out, too, if Whitley ever wanted to. He turned back to the window, his grandson now tucked in beside him as he watched the girls continue to play. There was time enough yet. As long as they lived, as Willow lived, there was still a part of the woman he’d loved so fiercely here on Remnant. Some shards of the peace she’d given him in life, that he couldn’t give her as she died.

But then, he couldn’t protect her, either. Could he protect any of them? Or would he just fail again? Atlas still saw him as a hero, but he knew he wasn’t, not really. He couldn’t even keep his own sons safe. How could he watch over these children, after he was gone?

It was days like this that he almost wished that long ago, desperate prayer had done more than just keep Winter alive, keep him breathing. If only Nicholas was somehow the wizard, could guarantee that they were safe, but no, he’d long since accepted that that sort of magic wasn’t real, not anymore. The maidens might be, but the rest? No. They were just stories and he’d held onto them far too long as it was. Whitley wasn’t interested in them, the girls were outgrowing them. Maybe it was time to stop.

If magic was real, then surely someone would have found his son by now?

[pigeonwhumps]

Transport

Sanctuary masterlist

Finding Safety masterlist

Taglist: @littlespacecastle @whumpymirages @emcscared-whumps @poc-whump

785 is transported back to the WRU centre, and has an unpleasant experience along the way.

1.7k

CWs: BBU, pet whump, dehumanisation, collar, restrained, (short) explicit non-con, mentioned past non-con, lady whump, rough handling, mentioned kidnapping, conditioning, multiple whumpees

The conditioned phrases 785 repeats to herself were created variously by @maniacal-ramblings and @ashintheairlikesnow (and thanks to Ash for compiling the list I found them on here). Also, while I'm crediting, the bit about how to punch properly is from @wolfeyedwitch 's post – cheers for that information, which inspired both a large part of the next chapter and Cass' creation in the first place (I'm not sure whether me creating yet another OC should be something to thank you for actually but hey. I like him).

The doorbell rings and 785 listens to the murmur of voices, too low to make out. Then, with a lurch, she feels herself moving. Her box is lifted and carried outside, jostled all the while, before she feels herself being shoved onto something. There's a thud of wood on wood and she hears a loud whimper from below her, and she knows, she knows, that she's been packed on top of another Pet. Sideways. Her cheek pressed against what's now the floor of the crate.

The metal doors of the delivery van slam shut and a few seconds later there's the rumble of an engine as the vehicle starts moving. 785 bumps up and down, hitting the wood with small thuds that disorient her but won't do much actual damage (she doesn't think so anyway). She can hear crying from one of the boxes, and coughing from another.

How many Pets are in here?

She hopes the coughing one doesn't make her ill, because if she gets ill again she won't be able to work, and then she'll be punished, and– and her ribs still ache sometimes, from the last time it happened.

It can't happen again. Please, please, don't make her ill.

The van comes to a sudden halt and she jolts forward, hitting her head on the box. She yelps, which soon turns into a silent scream as her collar activates.

The pain causes her to white out for... she's not sure how long, but when she comes back to herself they're moving again. With each corner they turn she jerks around in her box, and with each stop the van makes she becomes a little more bruised, a little more battered. Most of the stops are pick-ups, although a few boxes are taken out. She wonders if the Pets in the drop-offs are better secured inside their boxes – she wasn't, not really, but then, customers wouldn't put up with damaged goods. They'd complain.

She's not sure how she knows about product satisfaction with such certainty. Her head splits open as she tries to think about it and she gasps.

Maybe... maybe she should stop thinking. She's just a stupid Pet, after all, she doesn't need to think. She shouldn't think. That's something only people should be doing.

It's getting hot in here. It's been warm these past few days, and now she's stuck in a small wooden box surrounded by other boxes and metal. It's no wonder.

The van hits some sort of bump and she lurches, hitting the roof of the crate hard. Someone screams.

"Keep it down back there!" yells a voice from up front. 785 thinks it might be the driver.

"We would," comes a gruff, thickly-accented voice from one of the other boxes, "if you'd drive slower so we're not falling everywhere all the time."

The van stops and the back door slams open. "Who the fuck said that?"

"Me."

785 hears footsteps on the floor of the van and then a boot hitting wood. "Shut the fuck up, then. Oh, I see your owner taped your paperwork to the side of your box. Says here that you were a guard Pet, being sent back for refurbishment, due to your excessive insolence and emerging beliefs about being a person."

"That's bullshit! I've never even seen the inside of a WRU centre! This... scumbag kidnapped me and when I wouldn't be his perfect fucking pet he left me in a box on the roadside! I'm not one of your fucking slaves!"

"You know what? I really don't care where you're from. If you think WRU get all their Pets legally I've got a damn bridge to sell you. You're ours now."

There's a growl, and 785 shakes her head. You signed up for this. All pets are of legal consenting age and made a choice to pursue a change of circumstances including no longer retaining legal ownership of themselves. All merchandise is acquired through full legal channels. She repeats this over and over in her head. She knows that to be true, so the delivery driver must be lying. Mustn't he?

The guard kicks the strange Pet's box again. "And guard Pets are known for getting lots of injuries, so if I were to punish you for disturbing me, no-one would know the difference. So I advise you to shut the fuck up and resign yourself to a life of Pethood, because you're not getting anything else." The Pet's silent. "Right. God. Now that's settled, I gotta burn off some steam. Oi, Dave, there anyone around?"

"There never is here, you know that," says another man from up front. "That's why we always stop here for a break."

"Get back here then. And bring my phone."

The cab door slams. "Man, you are not going to film this."

"Why not? There's no harm."

"No harm– you know what'll happen to us if anyone finds out that you're fiddling with the merchandise! That's why we don't leave any evidence! No filming!"

"Oh come on. It's just for me." There's a pause. "At least help me get the box out and open."

A heavy sigh. "Fine, fine. Who you going for?"

"785. Eleanor's Pet. She looks so good in the videos."

785 tenses. That's her. Her box is shifted and lifted off the van, and set down heavily on the ground, turning her over and shaking her to her bones. She hears the nails being pulled out and the lid removed. Someone lifts her out and sets her down on gravel that pokes into her legs.

"Oh, she's even more beautiful in real life," says the unnamed man. "With the red silk and the bark collar."

"Mm. I wonder why she wasn't made a Romantic?"

"Who knows. Come on, man, don't get me to film. You know what'll happen if we're caught."

"We won't be. Come onnn." There's a silence, and then another sigh and a beep, and a crow. "Eyyy! Atta boy!"

"You better not get us caught, or I'll kill you."

"Yeah, yeah. 785, open your mouth." 785 obeys, unable to do anything else, and she hears the sound of a zipper. "Wider than that. Ah, that's better."

Something slides into her mouth. It's warm and wrinkly and it tastes disgusting, and she nearly chokes as it hits the back of her throat. She knows what to do though, she's been ordered to do it before even though it wasn't her owners (even though her owners had been angry at the order, and angry with her for letting it happen), and she sucks his dick.

"Oh. Oh, that's so good. Mmm."

785 keeps going until there's a jerk and he comes in her throat. She splutters and coughs, trying to swallow or spit it out or something to stop herself choking. It tastes bitter and salty and horrible, and she can feel the tears dripping out from under the blindfold even before Dave points them out. She wasn't made for this, it's not her designation. She's not prepared for it.

"You want a go with her, Dave? She's very good."

"I prefer my sexual partners to be consensual, thanks."

"And yet you were happy to film me."

"Look, let's just– get her back in the box."

"Sure, sure. Your loss." 785 feels herself being lifted and put back in her box, the top nailed down. Her stomach lurches, in free fall, as her box is thrown back on, and the Pet below her screams as she lands upside down with a thud, slamming into the wood hard, breath punched from her as she sees stars. She curls up as tightly as possible as they start to move again. Her stomach churns but she presses her lips together tightly. She won't be sick. She won't sit in a pile of her own vomit for the rest of the journey.

Her jaw aches and her knees are bruised and she's so tired, she just wants 065 or Hugo or her bear (especially 065), and she starts to drift. She can't help but listen to the low, accented voice of that strange Pet when he starts speaking again.

"I'm sorry, 785. I know you probably won't answer, I overheard about the bark collar, but I'm still sorry. I didn't realise I'd get you hurt by speaking up."

He didn't? But every Pet knows that, how can he not? Maybe he really isn't from the WRU.

Swallowing her fear, 785 decides to speak. She needs a distraction, to stop her mind going over and over and over the events of a few minutes ago.

"Hello," she whispers, bracing herself against the shocks. It's not too bad if she whispers. "I'm 785. It's– it's okay, you didn't mean to. It's my– my job."

"Hmm. Well, I'm Cass. Nice to meet you."

"And– and you."

"When they let us out, I'm going to escape. You should come. I do not care if it's hard, I will not be a Pet. I hope you come. All of you. You do not have to stay enslaved." There's a whimper below 785, and she shakes her head. She's not enslaved, she chose this. "If you want to punch, wrap your thumb around the outside of your fist and squeeze it. Aim with your first two knuckles and keep your wrist straight. Start with your knuckles down, and only twist them up towards the end of extending your arm."

785 tries not to listen, she can't fight the handlers, only people can do that. Only people can decide if she's allowed to fight, and she really, really isn't. Not as a combination Platonic/Domestic. She's never been allowed to before.

She can't fight. She's a Pet, she chose to be one, she'll be one for life. She signed up for this. Even if... even if that means she'll be refurbished, forget 065. That's fine. She signed up for it, nothing is her choice anymore, she has to obey. It'll all be good if she obeys. If she fights, it might not be. She's not going to fight. She doesn't have permission or orders to do so.

Unconsciously, her hands curl into fists behind her back, thumbs squeezed around the outsides.

[magentaisntrealreal]

It’s whumptober yayyy!!

Hope yall enjoy! Warning are in the tags both here and on AO3! Happy whumping the watcher’s little man!!

Also an update for my other long fic- it’ll be on hiatus until whumptober is over- so sorry!

[laffy-taffy-creations]

DAYYYYYYYY EIGHTEEEEEENNNNNNNN

This fic was cross-posted on AO3 here

Information Not For All Ages

Blindfold | Tortured for Infromation | "Hit them harder"

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Words: 979

Warnings: arguing, a lot of cussing, dark topics including past abuse, experimentation, and kidnapping, fluctuating text size and tons of formatting on this one, referenced character death

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

“This isn’t fucking working, they’re dodging all the questions!”

“Well just hit them harder!”

I piped up, “I have an incredible pain tolerance, your best bet would be injury to the point of delirium and HAH-” I laughed “-you’re have better fucking luck convincing a certain few people that my quirks can be blocked.” I side-eyed All Might.

He knew damn well what I meant.

The villains sighed, “alright, just put them back in the fucking cell, we’ll deal with this tomorrow.”

I let them drag me from the chair in the center of the room of cells and throw me in my own little private space, free of idiots and barred off from everything else. I situated myself as best I could given my restraints and leaned up against a wall. I could break out of them if I wanted, but that wouldn’t be as fun as watching them try to extort information out of me, plus all the explaining that would come with.

“You just had to say that didnt you…”

I turned to the only other person locked up in here. Of course it had to be him. “Yes, actually, I like pissing you off. Actually, if you think about it, had you not done any of that shit, we wouldnt be here in the first place,” I growled out the last part.

"Maybe if you’d stayed in line, we wouldn’t be here.”

“Maybe we wouldnt fucking be here if you learned how humans are meant to be treated.”

“Oh so now I’m not human?”

“SPOILER ALERT! You never fucking were. You’re a monster. You did all that shit to me, and Rullo, and Max, and Sayovai, and-”

“Good gods you even memorized their names…” he cut me off.

“FUCKER THEY WERE MY FAMILY! DONT YOU DARE IMPLY THAT NONE OF US MEANT ANYTHING TO EACHOTHER!!!” I screamed at him.

“Puh-lease, family? You wouldnt be able to answer shit about their past lives if you tried!”

“Yes the fuck I could! Because unlike SOMEONE, I would actually know what questions to ask! You couldn’t even list the proper allergies on people’s files.”

“Oh and you knowing everyone’s allergies makes you sooo much better than me?” he mocked.

I tilted my head. “Are you being serious right now?” The anger underneath my sin was making my blood boil. I grabbed at the bars of the cell, snapping my restraints in the process, I didnt even fucking care about that now. “I AM BETTER THAN YOU! And it’s not because I know people’s allergies, or know their names and can speak their languages, I’m better than you because I DONT EXPERIMENT ON PEOPLE!”

“IF IT WEREN’T FOR YOUR TIME AT THE LAB YOU WOULDNT BE CAPABLE OF HALF THE THINGS YOU CAN DO NOW!” he shot back.

“WE WOULDN’T BE IN THIS SITUATION TO BEGIN WITH IF IT WEREN’T FOR YOU AND THAT FUCKING LAB YOU ASSHOLE!!”

“MEQAT3, dont you-”

“OH I THINK I WILL START WITH THIS AGAIN! How many times will I have to remind you, that you are the reason for my powers, you are the reason I was able to escape in the first place, you are the person that kidnapped me when I was nine, gave me quirks that NO reasonable person would give to someone of my age, used me in experiments, once put me in a shock collar for the god’s sakes, you are the person behind all of this! Do I need to bring up the genetic experiments? All the children at the lab? How about all the people that died by your hands, huh? How about I bring up Lian and Adonia, huh?”

“THAT’S ENOUGH MEQAT3-”

My quirk burst out around us, threatening in every manner. “You have no right to call me that.”

“You wouldnt even be this strong if it weren’t for me!”

“I wouldn’t need to be this strong if it weren’t for you.”

“Oh really? You weren’t gonna be a hero back home? Let me tell you something, no matter what fucking path you took in this world you would’ve needed that strength-”

“NONE OF THE PATHS ANY PERSON TAKES IN THIS WORLD WOULD REQUIRE THE STRENGTH THAT BRINGS LITERAL GODS TO THEIR KNEES. YOU BETTER SHUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTH ABOUT BEING ‘THE CAUSE OF MY STRENGTH’ BEFORE I GET A NEEDLE AND THREAD AND DO IT FOR YOU.”

“You wouldn’t dare!”

“You think your hero status matters to someone that you’ve wounded this bad?”

“What are you, a villain now? Why dont you break out of that cell and just walk over there and join these ones huh? I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re the traitor! Maybe I should report you-”

“You think I need the backing of the League of Villains to have enough power to take you down? You think I would need the power of All For One in order to revoke your quirk from you? You think someone who has met literal gods is scared by your empty fucking threat?” I phased through the bars to lean as close as I could despite the gap between our cells, “I am not fucking scared of you. I might have been, back when I was nine and you put the shock collar on me, back when I was 11 and you removed all food access for a week to everyone but the still-developing genetic experiments, back when I was 12 and Aidonia died because of the experiments, when I was 13 and finally escaped but guess what? I’m seven-fucking-teen now. And you sir are one anonymous tip away from being thrown in maximum security prison.”

I phased back into my own cell and detected a slight shuffling from the door way. I looked over.

4 pro-heros, 2 sidekicks, 2 amused villains, 8 shocked faces.

“...how long have you been listening in?”

[transcowgirlslut]

it's kind of bullshit that people will react with horror to me discussing my fantasies/kinks until i clarify I'm the sub in them. like even my therapist was all like "ohhh it's ok to want to hold power so long as it's consensual" and then clearly relaxed when I clarified I wanted to be the sub.

i love you everyone and with rape kinks, those who want to roleplay kidnapping and abusing someone, i love you i love you i love you. this ain't me fishing for a dom/me to be clear---you are VALUED as a person, outside of your sexual fantasies. I care about you and appreciate you, and there is nothing wrong or bad about you!!!!

[nemesyaaa]

buffalo'66 au ! old!serial killer! rafe x young!sugardoll!reader

warnings : daddy issues/kink. slight of rafe having a god complex. smut. sick love/obssession/behavior. age gap. size kink. gunplay. spit. mean!dark!rafe. mentions of kidnapping/murdering. dark content. be careful with the warnings.

author's note : i think a lot about rafe having a god complex. and the way it could fix him to have a girl who cherish him and love him like he's just the only one. as the same i think a lot of rafe being a cult!leader with a sweet lamb. anyways, enjoy !

you knew you weren't allowed to touch his gun, but you couldn't pretend that the forbidden rules didn't excite you either. the proof being that you were still with rafe even though he had kidnapped you. you had found the glock in the drawer, and now you were having fun with it to the point where you hadn't heard your jailer come home. you were too captivated by the handgun to pay attention to that.

“ will you teach me how to shoot ? ” you asked in a soft tone.

“ obviously not. but i can swear to you that if you don't put the gun right in my hand in a second, i will show you how i use it. especially on a little tiny thing like you. now stop playing and give it to me, sugardoll. i already told you to not get on my nerves. ”

“ are you a serial killer or something ? ” you said to him, not aware about his job.

“ no obviously, i'm a babysitter. see ? how well i care about little silly girls ? ” he answered with the most sarcastic tone. “ i think you already know what i am, but you like playing dumb. because you're desperate for my attention. you need me to explain things, to satisfy your need of validation. that's right ? ”

he moved from his place, and placed himself behind you, your small body caged against his bigger size. you could feel all the pressure of his strength on you, and you started to shiver when his breath came near to your ears.

“ since you want to play with daddy's gun so bad, i'm willing to give you what you want. ”

“ no, i don't want to play anymore ! ”

“ oh i'm afraid to tell it's too easy like that, sugar. the game doesn't stop when you decide. the game stops when i’m done playing. got it ? nod your head if you got it.”

you really started to be his doll, accepting to nod whenever he wants, to use you whenever he feels the need, to move whenever he decides. when you nodded your head, giving him a little look, he grabbed the gun.

“ you will kill me ? don't, i can be good ! ”

“ you can ? no, you will. choose your words better, sugardoll. why are you crying right now ? the worse it yet to come actually. now, open that pretty mouth of yours. ”

you refused, shaking your head. you were terrified that he would kill you.

“ i said open it. if i have to repeat it, i swear that i will snap dry this gun further in your cunt, and everytime a sound will come out your mouth, pushing it deeper inside. do you understand me ? now, don't you want to be a baby sugardoll, full of kindness and sweetness ? show me how sweet and pretty you are for me. and listen to me. ”

with tears on your cheeks, you slowly opened your mouth. you could feel rafe’s smile against your neck. you were so submissive, the perfect victim. he had chosen you well the day he saw you. like a true serial killer, he never missed his prey.

“ this is why you call me sugardoll ? ”

“ see ? i'm good enough to give you a nickname. ”

it was sick but you smiled, you felt like you were special in his eyes. maybe rafe had a collection of little dolls but you felt unique.

“ don't kill me. i'm begging you. ”

“ fuck, you don't know how hard you make me when you're desperate like that. but trust me, i will make you see soon how good you make me feel. it will be your reward for being this sweet for me, sugardoll.”

he spread your legs, holding them wide with his strong hand covering your trembling thigh while his other hand brought the front of the gun down onto your skin. passing the coldness of steel across your tummy, while you shivered at the thought of dying. when he got to your underwear. you had heard his smirk.

"oh sure, you don't want to die. you want to be fucked. it's so wet here, i could stick the gun in without even preparing you, it would slide off so easily.” his mocked tone made you yelp.

“ i'm not controlling myself ! ”

“ and you don't need too. let me take care of you. keep your mouth open. i will put my gun in. ”

“ i can't do this ! it seems very dangerous…”

“ then suck it well, sugar. especially, if you don't want me to empty the gun on your gorgeous throat. ” he warned you, while pressing his lips on your neck. it was not a kiss, but you were so soft for this little touch. you wanted to please him, to see him proud of you.

he rushed the pistol between your wet plump lips, and you almost choked on it. “ be careful, doll, daddy's gun it's loaded. ” he said with a smile that made your tears even saltier.

while you had started to do your job, his fingers were lightly pressed on the surface, fiddled with the trigger. he loved seeing your petrified eyes, he loved feeling your blood freeze inside your veins, the way you resembled a frightened and helpless animal. you were defenseless and he had no limits.

you lapped at the cold metal at first, your tongue rolling over the barrel, swirling like a needy pet, and licking every bit of the object. you didn't waste anything, moistening the weapon with your own spit, some trails dripped down your tits. rafe had pushed the gun farther, almost into your throat. you choked, a trail of saliva raining over your jaw.

there was nothing amusing about it, but he found it fun. you sucked like your life depended on it even though let's be honest, it did. you moved back and forth quickly, rushed every movement with a softly sloppy gasp. he loved, no he adored the view of your ruined face and your mouth stuffed by the cold weapon. your great job made his dick painfully hard. you could feel the gun under your tongue, and the way it abused you. you drooled, a batch of saliva engulfing one side of the charger.

“ slow down, sugardoll, you're about to melt. ”

you felt dirty for being turned on by something so humiliating, the way you were pathetic for every single thing he introduced you to. it was as if he knew what you wanted, and how to exploit it. he could destroy you as well as shape you. you were nothing but the doll he wanted to play with. he knew more than anyone how to make you feel good. he knew well how to play with his toys.

you were killing him slowly with the way you were going about it, your pink tongue tickling the barrel, your mouth swallowing the entirety of his gun. every inch moved in and out of your parted lips. you lost count of the number of times you almost choked to the point you could throw up, you did your best.

the cold air of the room hit the soaked fabric of your underwear. it had gotten so wet down there.

you tried to focus on this dangerous game but you saw his bulge growing, his crotch distorting his pants.

“ keep sucking, i'm not done. ”

“ but ..."

he ignored you and took off his pants and boxers, freeing his hard cock. the next minute he was inside you, completely buried to the point where you could feel him all the way to your stomach. you salivated on the handgun, making a rain all over it.

as he filled you up, his thick cock abusing your tight pussy, the position was totally different, you were lying there, still the gun in your mouth, but now he was fucking you. his eyes were on you, and you could feel that motivating him even more to pounded you. your juices pooled on the surface the deeper he went. the slobber gathered around the metal. he rushed away your tears with his thumb.

“ stop whining, sugardoll. you can't cry when daddy takes you so well. ”

you really wanted to listen to him but it was too much for you. you were full of tears and they constantly wanted to come out, even when you felt good. but it was like the more you cried, the more he bullied your pussy, and by that, giving you more reasons to whine.

“ jesus, i'm pretty sure that you really like that gun in your mouth. ” he said with a firm thrust that made you squirm, your eyes wettering as the sentence. “ you like being this pathetic ? don't worry, i got you, i'm not judging you, but don't mind if i take advantage of it ? of course, you don't mind. you love being this sick, you're just a needy freak. ”

he pulled out before putting it back in you, inched himself deeper and deeper, letting you breathless. he was more rough this time, his fat length stretching you wider. his hips slammed your skin, his sweaty balls slapping you in motion. you nodded your head, your loud moans echoed in the empty room. his heavy hand on your tiny throat, pressuring it every time your walls tighten him.

his big other hand squeezing your small waist, as your core wrapped him harder. “ see ? daddy's making you a new home, right now. ”

his breath was heavy and short, the sweat of his body pressed against yours, while you were about to explode, so close to the orgasm. you were crying even more. and he covered your mouth with his large palm. he hitted the right spot again and again, without a break. you reached the second orgasm quickly, and you waited for him to explode at his turn. but he was taking his time on purpose. he obviously liked to abuse this little cunt of yours, wrecking like it was nothing your cervix. he glared at your glistening eyes with a proud face, while hurting your sloppy cunt. “ be patient, sugar. it's a matter of time but daddy will make you melt, and you will make a big mess on his dick to show how grateful you are ? ”

you didn’t answered, even when he released your mouth from his hands, because of the overheating.

“ you better answer because i can go to the next round. ”

“ yes .. yes !! ”

“ you're so naive, sugar. trusting me this easy, it's your own fault if old men like me use you. like did you really think we will not go on another round ? i'm about to make you dumb. not only your brain, your pussy, all of you. after this, you will not be able to think, to talk and even to walk. ”

your tears made him cum, and you let out a noisy and desperate whimper. “ it's sad for you that i'm the only god you can pray for, because i'm going to ignore all your prayers, making you on your knees every time for nothing more than my own good. sweet lamb, i'm such an uncaring god. but you can't hate on me, even a little, such a pretty precious thing you are. ”

“ why ? ” was the only word that came out of your mouth.

in fact, you were a little sad about this, because you wished that he cared a bit, even an hint about you.

“ nobody deserve you like i do. nobody deserve to touch you, or put an eyes on you, no one. you're just mine, and i need you to understand that clearly. do you got it ? do you even understand what i mean ? i will never let someone have you. never. ”

“ i really love you. ”

“ not only you love me, sugardoll. you adore me, you cherish me, you can't breath without me. do you understand ? how trapped i made you.”

“ bu…”

“ quit crying. you wanted this, you begged for. ”

“ i thought you only wanted to kill me ! ”

“if i wanted to kill you, it would already be done. i don't mind having blood in my hands, i'm a killer after all. but yours, i promise, i would never dream of, sugardoll. ”

it was very sick. but his words made you smile.

“ i want to hug you ! ”

“ don't make me regret my words. i still can choke you to death. ”

“ can i ask a question ? ”

“ jesus, if you don't yap more than a thousandth time each day, you're dead or what ? i swear, tell me your question, but choose it carefully because it will be the last. so, use your dumby brain very well. ”

“ i just wanted to know…if it's the first time you do this with one of your victims ? ”

“ why do you want to know ? ”

“ you need to answer ! ”

“ and you need to mind your own business. ”

“ i asked you a question ! it's not fair if you don't answer it ? ”

“ you better not try to raise your voice at me because i can shout, and trust me, the tears i will bring in your face will not be that pretty. ”

“ you're still mean to me…nothing has changed. ”

“ and you're still annoying. yes, nothing has changed.”

and you smiled at him, your sweet eyes melted on his unhichanged look.

“ someday i know you will love me too ! ”

“ bold to have faith, better to work on it, sugardoll. ”

you gave him a sweet look, even if he was grumpy, you wanted him.

[sluttyquarantinetheory]

By the time you actually reach Baldur's Gate it feels like you've domesticated most of your companions. Except Astarion who is much like a feral chihuahua you found in a field and he'll bite your shins if you forget to give him a treat. And then you enter a magic shop and as you're leaving you suddenly learn your wizard has been picking up bad habits from the chihuahua this entire time.

[blueseysyogurt]

can’t believe america made a whole holiday in honor of the party kavinsky threw at the end of tdt and whatever tf ronan and kanvinsky had going on there

[incorrectbatfam]

Robin!Dick: Bruce, can I walk to the park?

Bruce: Well, let's see. If a stranger asks you to get in their van, would you?

Dick: Absolutely, I love meeting new people.

Bruce: No, you don't get in the van.

Dick: Okay, I won't.

Bruce: What if they have candy?

Dick: Now I'm getting in, I love candy.

Bruce: No, you don't get in.

Dick: But they have candy, come on!

Bruce: You don't get in!

Dick: Fine, I won't.

Bruce: What if they say, "But I know your dad."

Dick: Then I'm getting in. That's family.

Bruce: No, they're lying.

Dick: That liar!

Bruce: What if they have a puppy?

Dick: I'm getting in.

Bruce: No, you still don't get in.

Dick: Okay, no problem.

Bruce: What if they offer you money?

Dick: I'm in there!

Bruce: No!

Dick: No?

Bruce: No!

Dick: Okay.

Bruce: What if they say they'll take you to the toy store?

Dick: Scoot over, I'm getting in!

Bruce: No!

Dick: I'm staying out. I'm not getting in the van.

Bruce: No, you can't go to the park.

Dick: I don't even wanna go anymore.

Bruce: Okay.

Dick: I wanna get in that stranger's van. They got fucking puppies and candy.

[bluerosefox]

Courting Chaos (to Balance)

A KlarionxDanny brain worm that has spawned

Tim Drake, aka Red Robin gets kidnapped suddenly and very randomly by Klarion in the middle of a JL and others meeting.

Leaving with a

"I'LL RETURN HIM WHEN HES NO LONGER USEFUL JUSTICE LOSERS!"

And fire and chaos in his wake.

While the JL, and others scramble to figure out what Klarion has planned this time, Tim manages to break free of whatever Klarion had used to kidnap him only to find himself on a couch and Klarion nervously petting Teekl on his lap while also sitting in a chair across from him.

When Tim goes to demand to know why Klarion kidnapped him Klarion finally speaks.

"Okay, I wanna strike a deal. I won't bug you or your little Young Just US buddies if you help me ask someone out..."

"...What the fuck Klarion?" Was Tim's only response.

-x-x-

So it turns out, every so often the three main entities and actual factions of Order, Chaos, and Balance get together to well discuss things happening in certain Realms, worlds, and timelines. Basicly to touch base, see where everyone was at. Etc etc.

Order was Order. Chaos was Chaos.

Very simple.

Both could be bad. To much order caused restraint and could snuff out growth. To much Chaos could get out of hand and cause ruin.

Both could be good. Order help stabilizes worlds and builds their future. Chaos allowed creativity to roam and brought forth wonderful things.

And Balance.

Well Balance was the very scales that kept both sides in check. They were neutral grounds. The ones that normally oversaw the meetings as well. And despite their low numbers they held powerful entities that more than made up for it.

Balance did their best to keep things in check, sure they do have their own preference sometimes and allowed the scales to tip a tiny bit but always corrected it later if it tips to much.

It was at this meeting, a meeting even Klarion knew better than to do anything too chaotic, pranks were fine but nothing too much, and had been chatting with a newcomer to the side of Chaos (Danielle, call me Ellie, Phantom. She did some heroing on the side but liked causing chaos in her wake to do so, he liked her so far though.) When the bells for the side of Balance to appear announced them.

Ellie had smiled brightly and said her brother was coming with his mentor, turns out her brother was apart of the Balance group which meant that he was strong, strong enough to need a mentor.

He watched as the members of Balance walked, teleported, flew, and other means into the meeting halls. And then froze when his eyes caught sight of him.

Floating next to a blue skined being that was switching ages was a beautiful otherworldly person.

Snow white hair that wisped upwards oh so softly. Glowing green eyes that were cat-like with their piercing glance. A galaxy cloak hanged around his shoulders and seemed to shift with each movement. Star like freckles decorated his face and seemed to glow a soft bluish white. A crown made of ice and aurora lights floated above his head as well.

All in all Klarion couldn't keep his eyes off of the being at all. He nearly spat his water out when Ellie commented that was her brother Danny, or rather.

High King of the Infinite Realms, Daniel 'Danny' Phantom. The Great One. Defeater of the Tyrant King. The Halfa. The Peaceful End. The Balance of the Undead. (And his mentor was the Ghost of Time itself. THE very Keeper of Time, Kronos original form himself.)

Klarion honestly didn't know what to think or rather what emotions he was feeling when he spotted Danny, nor why his face felt so hot and red when the young man looked over at them and smiled. (He was smiling at Ellie but Klarion for some reason hoped it was for him as well)

It wasn't until halfway in the meeting when a rather ingenious prank that Klarion, Ellie, and a few others had set up went off... thing was it strong enough that it had hit Danny's side of the meeting and had hit him.

Now, again pranks were okay but only after the meetings. It was one of the few rules many, even those in Chaos, took seriously because once it was done and over they could go do their things. So for it to happen in the middle of a meeting means someone set their time on the prank wrong and add the fact it hit a person on the Balance side...

Yeah not good.

Only...

Only instead of getting angry, even Clockwork who was seated next to Danny was chuckling, Danny threw his head back and laughed about it. And his laugh... was very cute.

And before he knew it, Klarion had already fallen.

-x-x-

"So yeah.... Since you have a boyfriend and know how to date in this modern age, I need your advice."

".... Klarion just because I'm dating Bernard doesn't mean I know how I did it..."

"Bernard? I thought you were dating that one Supes?"

[vampcaprisun]

why do all of the options for talking to wyll after mizora's punishment feel so mean? the poor guy just got sent through the tortures of the nine hells and had his body permanently changed, and it's clear that all of this is because mizora was deceiving him, and you're telling me i can't just...check in on him? like what's even the point of having five different options if all of them are just different flavors of "you had it coming"? i think he's been beaten down enough by the devil who just showed up to fuck him over and treat him like something less than human while doing it, let me just be nice to him!!!!!

[dead-girl-tells-stories]

Everyone from babies to young adults suddenly disappears from Amity Park, and the ghost portal self-destructs as well. The GIW and the Fentons obviously come to the conclusion that it’s ghosts but realize that this issue is way bigger than they can handle, so they call in the big guns, The Justice League.

Of course, they don’t tell the Justice League everything when they come. No matter how much they thought themselves to be heroes, they were simply glorified police in spandex. And with how they operate, they are all too small-minded and won’t be able to see the bigger picture. They also knew fully well that a lot of their methods weren’t even remotely close to being morally or ethically right, and if the JL found out, they would be screwed. So they simply told them enough to get them on their side. 

Besides, how could they not help with how many people were missing? This was going to be easy.

_______

The Justice League didn’t trust the GIW. Something about them was just off. But so many missing people were on the line, so many kids! 

Ghost?

Should they call in the JLD?

_______

Jason knew something was off with Crime Ally.

Nothing was wrong per se. In fact, everything was going great. Crime was at its lowest in like… forever. The general atmosphere was more calm, if not a bit chilly. He himself was calmer. And there were fewer kids on the streets. Which would have been a good thing if this wasn’t fuckin’ CRIME ALLY!

Jason’s been stressing himself out, trying to find out what was going on. He’s been searching up and down, talking to people left and right. No one was reporting anything amiss. Some even told him that they still saw the kids walking around, though not as often as before. And they also looked like they were being well taken care of.

He even saw and talked to some of the kids himself and it was the truth. 

But when he asked where they went, they only laughed and ran away from him. Shouting that he would know soon before they disappeared around the corner. At this point, he was sufficiently freaked out and was so close to getting Batman to contact the JLD, but something told him otherwise.

A few days later Jason was in bed. He had ended patrol early that night and intended to get a full eight hours if he could.

But as fate would have it, he would not. Because just before he could hit the hay he heard it. Well, felt it would be more accurate but how could you feel a siren’s song? Pulling you? Drawing you in. Telling you that it would give you your deepest desire.

He didn’t even bother to suit back up into Red Hood. He just followed it. Followed and followed, Until he got to a dead-end alleyway. But there was no ‘end’. All there was, was darkness. 

He began to get skeptical and took a few steps back. But the feeling was still there. Pulling, telling that all of his answers were in that darkness. Everything he wanted, needed, awaited beyond it. 

He did the stupid thing and went into the darkness.

He didn’t know what he was expecting, but it wasn’t the feeling of walking through thick goop. But the feeling didn’t last long, and he eventually stepped out.

Again, he didn’t know what he was expecting, but it wasn’t this. 

Kids running around without a care in the world, unrestricted. Teenagers just hanging out and being kids too. Whatever adults he saw all looked pretty young, but they were all happy. 

He looked around and noticed that it looked like a weird mix between a suburb and a night market, but it worked quite well. The stalls were all unmanned, and it seemed whoever could just take whatever they wanted. Dim but pretty lights connected all the stalls to as far as his eyes could see. And the sky.

In Gotham, there’s so much smog and bad weather you’d be lucky to even see a piece of blue during the day so no wonder people often forget about the night. But this, the night sky wherever he was, was beautiful, beyond what words and even thoughts could convey.

“Hello, Mr. Red Hood.”

Jason jumped. Was he so out of it that he didn’t even notice someone coming up behind-

Forget what he just said about the sky. The woman right here that was now standing before him? She- She-

“Are you single?”

There was silence. Then she giggled. Guess Jason didn’t need his helmet huh? His face was enough.

He also wanted to die again but hey, at least she laughed!

[laffy-taffy-creations]

This is for dayyyyy 15!

This was cross-posted on AO3 here

Some Wounds Can't Be Healed

Makeshift Bandages | Suppressed Suffering | "I'm fine"

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Words: 1,253

Warnings: near death, stab wounds, past human experimentation, mentioned kidnapping, child abuse, child trauma, ptsd

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

"I don't need you to help me, I can handle things myself."

"OV! You have a stab wound through your godsdamned gut! You are not doing this mission without help!" Kiri shouted at me.

"I'm fine. Leave me alone."

"Absolutely not! I know you're the only one that can hack their servers, but-"

I cut him off with a punch to a wall that left some cracks in the concrete. He flinched back.

"Okay, I get that you're strong and can handle yourself, but you still-"

"Zip it. I do not need your help on this. You can follow me if you feel like it but no interfering, got it?"

He nodded enthusiastically, all too willing to follow me into danger's door. Probably hoping to at least keep me away from death's door.

----《 ¤ 》----

He followed me through the base wincing each time I did at any aggravation to the injury, but ultimately followed my directions and didn't interfere.

I picked the lock to the server room and got us in, immediately sensing a trap. 'There's a trap here somewhere, be on your toes.'

The whole thing was as close to a wet dream as I'd probably get being an ace tech nerd. So many servers and racks of information, all ready for the taking…

Focus. You're here to hack the servers and get the required information, nothing else…

The interface was like something from a movie, several large screens up against one of the walls. I found the keyboard and started up the system, tapping away at a password by-pass and navigating through the files to find the required information.

"You're pretty quick at that…"

"For someone who has a stab through their gut?" I mocked.

I got out my flash drive, the wrong one, and uploaded Donovan into the systems, making sure he was secure enough to continue his own upload via wireless connection before removing it and switching it out for the right drive this time.

I put the desired information on it and turned off the interface.

"I told you, it wouldn't be that big a deal. It's just a simple stab wound. Seriously, we're pros now, you have had years of first hand experience with how indestructible I am."

"That doesn't mean you can be reckless! You still need someone just in case if you have a major injury."

"A stab wound to my gut is not a major injury."

"YES THE FUCK IT IS!"

"Is not."

"Blackout, NOBODY BUT YOU WOULD BE ABLE TO SURVIVE A GASH LIKE THAT WITHOUT IMMEDIATE MEDICAL ATTENTION."

"That's an 'everyone else' problem then."

"Don't you dare say you're 'built different'-"

"I'm just built different from all you hoes. Now c'mon, we need to get going. Just because it doesn't impede me doesn't mean it doesn't fucking hurt."

"I am going to hit you with a book once you're better."

I started walking back the way we came. "I'd like to see you try-"

A knife through my throat cut me off for 2 reasons. 1, it was now blocking my ability to speak, and 2, even if it wasn't it shocked me enough where I would've stopped anyway.

"VEE!"

I knew there was a fucking trap!

I staggered a little bit, but managed to keep my composure.

For the sake of not being questioned I should have at least fake passed out if not fake died temporarily, but instead I decided to take out the knife, angry as fuck and ready to bash in the skull of whoever threw it at me.

"Show yourself you coward!" I shouted as best I could.

I heard my attacker from the other side of the door. "How the fuck-"

"I SAID SHOW YOURSELF BITCH!"

I charged at the doorway where it'd been thrown from.

Part of the wall cracked and crumbled where I ended up hitting it, and the villain that dared to poke the already wounded and angry bear began to recoil. Apparently me surviving a knife to the throat was not in their plan.

I tackled them and locked their wrists in some power-blocking cuffs, before my adrenaline began to leave me and the sheer agony almost made me pass out.

Kiri was right behind me, catching me before I hit anything and dragged me off the incapacitated villain. He fix the bandages on my stomach that got messed up somehow and cut part off, securing it around my neck.

"I'm telling you Vee, shit like this is why you need a back-up."

I groaned as he called in for some help and picked me up, carrying me out of the building.

"Don't you dare hand me off to those bastards."

"Vee, you can make demands once you're not on the brink of passing out."

"I'm fine."

"No, no you're not."

Painful as it was, I resituated myself a bit to punch him in the arm. It was weak, but even my version of weak ended up being relatively strong when I had some control over myself.

"You punching me does nothing."

"Fuuuck, fine, but just don't hand me off to the medics. I don't like dealing with questions."

"The medics are the reason you're still standing."

"Newsflash, the medics aren't the ones that healed me after every dire situation you've seen me in."

He paused. "I'm still handing you over to them."

"No the fuck you're not."

"...I'll bite, if the medics haven't been healing you, who has?"

"Me."

"Vee."

"I'm not fucking joking. Put me down, I'll prove it."

----《 ¤ 》----

I hissed at the feeling of undoing the bandages. The fact I really needed to get rid of them did nothing to soothe the agitation it caused my body.

Kiri waited patiently until I'd fully uncovered the wound. "Okay, now what?"

I took a deep breath in and focused my energy towards the first of the extra quirks that had been forced onto me. A ball of green light formed around my palm and I held it up to the wound.

He watched in awe as it sealed itself up and I sighed in relief.

"How long have you been hiding that from everyone?" He asked in an accusatory tone.

"How long have you known me?" I shot back, undoing the hastily done wrap around my neck. After I healed that I picked up both the bandages to be thrown in the trash.

"Vee… this really doesn't seem like something you should be hiding."

"How so?"

"It just… we're you're friends, knowing you have a healing quirk would be not only beneficial as friends, but also useful, y'know?"

"No, I don't know how sharing extra-personal information is helpful to people."

"What exactly makes it so extra-personal? It's just another quirk, is it not?"

No, because I got it through being experimented on. No, because it was forced upon me. No, because I was kidnapped to have it. No, because it's not the only one I was forced to have. No, because it has major ties to my trauma.

"No," I answered.

"Well then explain it to me. I don't care how messy it is. Just tell me."

What do I tell him? Do I talk about the kidnapping? The child-abuse? The need to grow up way to quickly? The need to fend for myself starting at 9? The way I was treated? Which of the pro-heroes did this?

"I-it… it was…" I started, before I started to cry. He was quick to pull me into a hug.

I never finished that sentence.

[hyperfixating-chic]

Anytime a Wayne gets a kidnapping threat Jason fits a pun in on how he died

“Hey, I mean, worse comes to worse, the worst thing that you can do is *die*”

“—Jason.”

But he gets a kidnapping threat? Gosh, stay out of Bruce’s way. Jason isn’t out of his sight once and if that maybe, possibly, makes Jason feel a little safer, he ain’t telling anyone.

But he might get a few more nightmares than usual, might work on his knot and lock picking skills, even though it makes him feel stupid.

Bruce might be working on how fast his motorcycle goes, he might sneak in Jason’s room to check on him a couple (No Barbara, it has not been every night—) times, might tell him he loves him more often, might panic when Jason goes on patrol, might trail him to make sure his baby is safe, but Jason might not hate it.

[she-posts-nerdy-stuff]

Just thinking about how when Nina was taken captive by Drüskelle not only was it obviously awful but it was also probably acting on something that Nina already struggled with because she was held captive by the Darkling on a skiff when she was 14/15 with the other Grisha students who were evacuated to Keramzin and I don’t think that being held captive belowdecks of a ship and a skiff would feel all that different