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ravenzeppeli · 6 months

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Claimed

Chapter 29 - Willing to Forgive, Definitely Won't Forget |Soft Yandere Melone x Reader Fluff|

Warning: strong language, nudity [forced]. MA.

"I am so sorry that I've been lying to you," you told Melone as soon as he closed your bedroom door. "I didn't want to lie to you. I did it because I didn't want you to attack Formaggio or Prosciutto, I don't want you getting hurt." You spoke quickly, immediately letting him know what you truly didn't mean to lie to him. You loved Melone and wanted to keep him safe.

Melone locked your bedroom door, making you nervous. When Prosciutto locks your door, it usually means you're about to get beat. Was he really going to spank you for lying to him? Your ass still hurt so bad from last night. You only lied to protect him. You didn't want him making enemies with the other men.

"It's okay, baby," he muttered, sighing as he turned to face you, tears in his eyes. "Baby.. you need to be honest with me. How badly did he hurt you? Please just let me see it, I want to see. What if you get an infection and die?" He looked genuinely worried, tears now rolling down his face. "I need to know."

No way in hell were you going to pull down your fucking pants in front of him and show him your bruised ass, the thought of it making your cheeks heat up slighly. It was so hard being comfortable seen naked, you've never just been naked around someone.

"No," you replied softly, his head dropping. "It's.. I don't want you to have to see that. I'm fine, I promise. You don't need to worry." You weren't in any pain right now due to the pain pills that Formaggio gave you. He only gave you a few, saying he doesn't want you to get addicted, so you've been rationing them out.

"I'm sorry baby, I hate to do this," he muttered. He quickly stepped towards you, hands wrapping around your waist as he spun you around. He pulled your pants down before you could stop him, your cast making your left hand useless as you tried to smack his hands away. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he kept repeating as he pulled down your underwear.

Tears filled your eyes, your face turning completely red. You weren't surprised, but you still felt humiliated. "I didn't want you to see!" You yelled at him, bending down to quickly pull up your pants, but he stopped you, his grasp weak, hands shaking. You could easily pull away.. but you didn't. It was too late anyways, pulling away would be pointless.

"Because you knew how fucking bad it was!" He yelled back suddenly, letting you go. "I can't.. I.. I.." you heard his footsteps trailing off, causing you to immediately turn around. "I'll beat the fuck out of him."

You pulled your pants up quickly, a low whimper escaping your lips as your underwear and pants rubbed against your ass. "Please don't!" That caused him to freeze up by the door, his back turned towards you. "Please! If you do, I'll never talk to you again!"

"What?" He muttered, his tone going dark, almost dangerous. "You'll never talk to me again? Are you fucking kidding me? You're my girlfriend!" He yelled, turning back to face you. "You will be my wife one day, how dare you say you'll never speak to me again!"

You looked down, the sudden aggression in his voice causing you to go silent. Are all seven of your boyfriends violent men? Did their lifestyle really fuck them up that badly? You're starting to feel trapped, like you can't speak freely or be yourself anymore.

Softly, his black dress shoes tapped against your floor, creeping towards you. "I'm not trying to make you sad, I'm sorry. I just love you so much, and I can't stand seeing those jack asses destroy you." He wrapped a hand around your waist, pulling you towards him. "Please don't be mad at me. I wouldn't hurt you."

It was difficult for you to say your true feelings out loud. You didn't want to express your love and one day get hurt, you didn't want for him to know how much you loved him, but you felt like him knowing that you loved him would make him calm down. You needed to tell him something that would make him calm down and not attack Prosciutto. You didn't want to cause violence amongst the group. The men fighting each other was something you did not want. You wanted all seven of the men to get along.

"I love you the most, and I loved you first," you replied. Melone likes honesty. That's exactly what you were going to give him. "I want all seven of you getting along and not physically fighting each other. You need to take into consideration that I'm stuck with Prosciutto. I want to be with you, but I'm stuck with Prosciutto, so I just have to tough it out. And you can't go hitting the other men. That stresses me out. I want you safe. Please, Melone."

You let your arms wrap around him, hugging his slender body, hoping that he wouldn't do anything drastic. You loved him, and you found yourself making excuses for his actions. Melone was really good to you, he was a great boyfriend, so you could talk him down instead of get mad at him. He deserved your love, not your anger.

"It's so good to hear that you actually want to me with me. Even if you're lying to me, I don't care, I'm so happy to hear it," he replied, voice soft as his arms wrapped around you, cool hands running up and down your back. "I want to beat the shit out of Prosciutto, but you are right. I am sad that you won't let me defend you, but I understand why. I'll keep my distance from him until I'm able to talk to him once more."

"I never wanted to lie to you in the first place," you told him. Lying to him was hard, and you regretted it, but you would lie to him if it meant protecting him. "If I lie, it's to protect you, Melone. Me loving and wanting you isn't a lie. I'm in love with you, and I love Pesci. The others are okay, and I care for them."

"Do you like Ghiaccio? He's a really good guy." Melone rested his chin on top of your head, a low sigh escaping his lips. "You need to come to me. Come to Ghiaccio. Come to Pesci. Do you really need to go to Formaggio or Illuso when you feel unsafe? You need to go to someone who won't hurt you."

You and Formaggio were starting to grow a friendship before he ended up breaking your fingers. You still found that friendship forming again, but you were cautious. At the end of the day, Formaggio had still cheated on you and hurt you, so you'll never let yourself fall in love with him. Like is as far as you'll go. Maybe if you ever get hurt again, you should just go to a hotel. Your boyfriends seem to make situations worse.

"I like Ghiaccio." You did like Ghiaccio. He was a good boyfriend to you. The two of you haven't moved past the making out stage yet, but you weren't going to pressure him for sex. He could take all the time he needed. You knew his situation with losing his fiancé and unborn child seven years ago. You were fine with him wanting to move slow. He was good to you, and his temper didn't bother you. He yelled, but he never made you feel unsafe.

Maybe Melone was right. Also, should you really run off to a hotel when you have boyfriends willing to actually treat you well and protect you? Shouldn't you be leaning on them more? It felt wrong running off to stay somewhere alone while being in relationships. Maybe you shouldn't consider that option. It might be a bad idea to run off when a situation occurs. You feel like you could start trusting Melone fully.

Melone pulled away from you, blue eyes staring down at you, his hands staying locked around your waist. "Listen to me.. you are my entire life. You are my universe, my reason for existence." His eyes landed on your lips. "You're my soulmate."

You stood on your tip-toes, planting a soft kiss on his lips, pink immediately dusting across his cheeks, a wide smile forming on his soft lips. "I love you, and you are my favorite. I'm going to be spending the night with you as soon as possible so we can spend some alone time together." You wanted to perk up his mood. You hated seeing him so stressed out and pained over you.

"Where are you staying tonight?" He muttered. "You need to be taken care of. You're hurt. I need to take care of you."

You were supposed to stay with him anyways, you were only going to stay with Illuso a second night because of the lie. "I need to go see Pesci, and then I'll just go to your place afterward." Illuso wouldn't mine, considering you already spent plenty of time with him last night, despite most of that time being him sitting in silence. He seemed off.. you wondered what he was thinking.

"Call me when you are done at Pesci's, then I will come pick you up," he said, squinting his eyes at you as you shot him a dissatisfied glare. "You aren't walking to my house, I may be only a 10 minute walking distance away from Pesci's place, but you're hurt. You aren't walking in this condition."

You were in no mood to argue with Melone, and you also didn't really feel like walking today. "Fine. I'll call you when I'm done."

He smiled, leaning down, placing a small kiss on the tip of your nose. "Thank you, baby. I'll take you to see Pesci now. You don't need to rush. Take your time talking with him."

You nodded. You were going to apologize to Pesci. You felt terrible for talking to him so poorly. He wasn't the one you should be talking to like that. You just wanted to keep him out of all the drama. You needed to hurry up and go to him, try and make things right. You hoped that he wasn't upset with you.

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steelestallion · 2 months

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bullying version ❤️

#autoandrophilia #forcemasc #androphilia #forced masculinization #forcedmasc #ftm hypno #tw needle #tw syringe #i’ll be making one with no needle and syringe in future just bottle :)#love y’all xoxo ryder #be good boys now #artistic nudity

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whumpflash · 2 years

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cw: slavery, dehumanization, noncon strip/nudity (nonsexual), adult language, alcohol mention

previous ///// masterlist ///// next

×××

The sun was rising when they reached the slavers' camp. The journey has dampened Judd's unwanted hangover enough for him to focus, and he made an effort to determine their direction of travel.

East. Right into the fucking sun.

He angled his head to avoid the light, doing anything he could to lessen the pounding in his skull.

Fucking wine. He almost wished Skye would've just kicked his ass instead of resorting to creativity. It had been almost a whole day since he'd had any water, and the booze only served to rush the dehydration process.

Water first, he thought. Then I'll get the hell out.

The slaver camp was a lot smaller than the site Judd called home, just a few makeshift buildings and a public area protected from the sun by a tarp. There was a weapons rack, and a pile of what looked like spare speeder parts. Tools he could use to escape, or fight his way out when the time was right.

He tried to ignore the other objects in the area. Shackles. Whips. A metal pole with a length of chain welded to it, and a small rusted cage a foot away from that. Cage and manacles were both empty. He'd find no allies here, but there didn't seem to be many enemies either. Aside from the two that had snatched him, there were only a handful others, coming out of their huts or getting up from cleaning their weapons to see what their buddies had returned with.

Judd was dumped just shy of the shade, struggling to lift his head as a pair of boots came into view. They were attached to a woman, well-muscled and covered in freckles.

"Brought me back a treasure, eh?" she said, lifting his chin with the toe of her boot. He jerked away, falling back onto the cracked dirt, and wincing as the movement drove a fresh spike of pain through his head.

"Wreck was deserted by the time we got there, but this idiot made the mistake of sticking around," Rika replied.

Sticking around? Yeah, picking on the kid had been a mistake, but Judd wasn't fucking stupid.

"What do you think, Sonora?" Rika's partner said. "Good haul?"

"Should make us a pretty penny," the other woman said, approval in her voice. "Get it settled in."

It. He was already written off as an object to them, something that had no value aside from a price tag.

The pair moved to obey her, dragging Judd under the tarp and into the marginally cooler shade. His arms—by now well past aching—were freed at last from Skye's bindings. Rope was swiftly replaced with metal cuffs, each one connected to a long chain that trailed upward, wrapping around a beam that sat a few feet above his head.

Not just a beam, he saw, noticing gears on either side of it, interlocking all the way down to hip height, where a handle jutted out. Some kind of mechanism, probably designed to shorten his leash whenever they saw fit.

Clearly the group had way too much time on their fucking hands, but if nothing else, the machine told him this was their permanent base.

Good. When he got out, he'd come back here with a hoard of scavs. Burn it down.

"Let's get a look at it," Sonora said, and Rika moved to the handle, confirming his suspicions as she cranked it until the chains were taut and his arms were suspended above his head. Maybe it was procedure, maybe she'd just made up her mind to give him misery, but she didn't lock the mechanism in place until Judd's feet were barely touching the ground.

He cursed through the gag, shooting her a hateful glare that was pointedly ignored.

Sonora selected a knife from the weapons rack and closed the distance on him. He did his damnedest to jerk back as she set the blade against his chest, but she didn't cut him, instead slicing through the fabric of his shirt.

Judd let out a muffled yell of protest as she moved to his jacket, a fancy sun-reflecting thing he'd paid out the ass for. She didn't seem to care what it was, cutting it away without hesitation and discarding it at his feet.

His pants and boots followed it, but Sonora didn't stop there, slicing away in cool-eyed silence until he was stark naked.

Judd tried to reign in his pride and breathe steady through the gag. If he let the frustration, the humiliation, get to him, it would just make his headache that much worse.

Nudity didn't bother him. Water was too scarce for showering to be a private affair, and scavs were generally too pragmatic to find a lack of clothes taboo.

This was different. This was being put on display, stared at by his captors while they figured out how much he was worth.

I'll break out. Pick the locks. They'll be sorry.

"Hm," Sonora said, and he flinched as she ran a finger across his abdomen. "Strong enough for the pits, pretty enough to be a pet. What do you think?"

Rika snorted. "I think it's the highest bidder's choice."

"So it is." She stepped back, kicking away the remains of Judd's clothing. "Go ahead and let it down. Can't put it up for auction half-dead."

Rika pulled back on the lever, and the chains went slack. Judd cried out as he hit the ground, pain shooting through his knees as they took most of the impact. It was becoming more and more difficult to want to get up, but he did, pushing himself to a sitting position with a groan.

Sonora had reappeared beside him, a canteen in her hand.

Water.

She was close enough that he could probably grab her. Get her weapon, use her as a bargaining chip. But he was too thirsty to try.

She reached behind his head, untying his gag and removing it from his bone-dry mouth.

Despite the burning urge to start cussing her out, Judd held back. Drink first. He reached for the canteen, but Sonora took a quick step back.

"Ah ah. You get what I give you or you get nothing," she chided. "And I only give what is earned."

Because of fucking course she did.

"Kneel," Sonora continued. "Hands on your knees, head bowed. Show me you can be obedient."

As debasing as it was to follow her commands, Judd wasn't about to give up the water. He moved to his knees, glaring up past sweat-damp hair.

"That snarl could use some work, but we have time," Sonora said. "Good boy."

All reason fled his body at her words, his head snapping up. "The fuck did you just call me?"

Behind him, Rika let out a short laugh. "Told ya it had a mouth."

"It just needs to learn some respect," Sonora said, looking vaguely annoyed.

"My name is Judd," he spat.

"You don't have a name anymore," she replied, not flinching as he lunged forward, the chains halting his movement before he got within a foot of her. The sudden stop, combined with his bound ankles, unbalanced him, and he landed gracelessly on his side.

He saw Rika reach for a whip, but Sonora held up a hand to stop her.

"It has enough scars as is. We don't need any new marks before auction."

"My name is—" He was cut off by a boot to the gut from Rika.

"Bruises will heal," she said, in response to the stern look from Sonora, who sighed and shook her head.

"I'm sure they will. You and Bo go ahead and get some sleep. I'll take it from here."

As Rika and her partner disappeared into one of the huts, Sonora moved to the mechanism Judd was attached to, adjusting the upper bar until it was level with the ground, then reeling in the chains until he had no room to move, arms once again restrained behind him. Once that was done, she left.

Judd let his head drop, drawing his knees up to his chest. Maybe he was stupid. Letting his anger get in the way of fucking survival.

She'd be back, wouldn't she? They'd gone through the trouble of taking him, they wouldn't just let him die and miss out on their payday.

He pulled at the cuffs. Just needed to wait until Sonora tried again. He'd choke down his pride and comply. Get her to drop her guard.

It hadn't been long before she returned, still holding the canteen. She knelt in front of him, much closer now that he was locked up tight.

"Good boys get water," she said, but held the canteen to his lips anyway.

He drank so quickly he almost choked, feeling relief wash over him as the liquid ran down his throat. It wasn't until he'd drained the entire thing that he noticed the strange aftertaste.

Sickly sweet, like something on the verge of rotting.

He knew what was coming then, the kind of bullshit these people would resort to in order to keep him down. Sonora smiled at him as she capped the canteen.

"Bad boys get Compliance."

×××

tag list:

@kira-the-whump-enthusiast

#whoops forgot to add tags #whump #whump writing #judd harlow #tw slavery #tw alchohol mention #tw noncon drugging #nonsexual nudity #tw violence #tw adult language #forced stripping #tw dehumanization #defiant whumpee #it as a pronoun

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stuffbybean · 1 year

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so it's about time i added to my whump collection

anyway have Arion being punished for his part in Hell's rebellion

fun fact about my angel lore - when an angel falls, their halo turns against them and stabs itself into them :3

#tw blood #tw throat injury #tw injury #tw impalement #non human whumpee #forced transformation #my ocs #my artwork #fallen angel oc #arionoc #yes he's naked no i do not want to make him clothes #yes the vibes are there no the anatomy is not #i am WORKING on it i swear #tw nudity

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mybeautifulbeautifuleternal · 2 years

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Part One

It was to the feel of a hand soothing itself up and down your back that you awoke too. When you slowly let your eyes open, you saw that it was just barely morning, the sun kissing the edge of the skyline outside your balcony. When you went to stretch out, you felt the effects of last night’s activities protest the movement. You froze for a second as the events of last night filtered through your head before you slowly flipped to your back.

Aemond was behind you, one hand propping his head up on his elbow, the other having been the one on your back. Despite your movement, he continued his actions, his hand running from the v of your thighs up to your throat, undoubtedly a dark purple necklace. His eye was clear and focused completely on you, registering the numerous marks he laid on you before he let you sleep.

Moving his sight from his hand to catch your eyes, he used his fingers to push against each bruise he sucked into your neck and down your chest, tracing the various cuts his knife left against your stomach, and the hand prints that stood out in stark contrast on your hips — mapping out his actions and the marks he’d left. You knew that you looked a fright, like you’d lost a fight with a feral beast — which you felt like you had. As with most things Aemond did, your husband took you to bed and to new heights of pleasure with extreme skill and no hesitations.

Still observing you, Aemond moved his hand to place his pointer finger against the marriage cut on your lip. “I do think this one is going to scar.” He sounded pleased at the thought.

“I’m-“ you cut yourself off with a harsh cough, the bruising around your neck leaving you with an ache that wasn’t help by the scratching your voice gave out. Aemond twisted around to reach for a cup of water he had set out on his nightstand. He was careful as he pulled you up, one large hand cupping your neck gently and the other holding the cup to your lips. The water was cool and it helped soothe the pain in your throat. Slowly sipping down the entire glass, you kept an eye on Aemond.

When you finished the cup and pushed it away from you, you cleared your throat before trying again. “I’m sure you’re beyond pleased at that.”

“Oh I am. Now you bear a mark that declares to everyone that you’re mine,” he pressed down on the wound on your lip, breaking the seal the dried blood had made and making it bleed anew, painting your lips in it. “Every time someone looks at you, they’ll know.”

He leaned down again, drawing you into an intense kiss, licking up the blood lining your lips. He shifted completely over you, pushing your legs apart to settle on top of you. His weight was comfortable and familiar, his hair a silver curtain around you. You reached up with one hand to cup his face, the other one tangling in his locks.

“I told you, ābrazȳrys. You are mine,” the threat was murmured into the silence, tone even and serious. “I’ll be going to mother today to inform her of our marriage.”

“Aemond-” he cut you off before you could continue.

“Shush. To our gods, we’re married and I won’t hear otherwise from anyone,” Aemond’s voice was firm. “I’ll be going to my mother today. And I’ll be sending notice to your parents. You promised yourself to me, ābrazȳrys. Through fire and blood, you are my wife and I am your husband.”

@febuwhump

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poll-ventures · 1 year

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Perdition 1.9

< ≡ >

The golden woman struggled for breath beneath me, my hands tight around her throat. I glanced up at the wooden door that led to the final resting place of the massive upside down spire.

My mind raged against itself in its indecision. With my left hand, I tightened my grip, while my right loosened, then suddenly rocketed across the gap and ripped my left hand from the demon’s neck. She bucked me off, and I landed painfully on a thick pile of roots.

She shot up, shaking and naked, golden hair matted with my blood. My right hand seized my chin, forcing me to stare up at her.

I watched as she realized she had already won. My vocal cords worked against my own will, tearing my name out from my soul, until I couldn’t do anything but scream it.

“Parker!”

The demon stilled, then smiled.

I swore, tearing my hand off of my chin, finally able to move it myself again. I looked down at the bites and slices in my flesh, gritting my teeth as they bled into the fabric of my cloak. “You bitch!”

“Watch your tongue, Parker.” Her whole face was curled into a toothy smile, her voice wrung ragged, somehow sounding older than she looked.

Compared to the honeysuckle voice that had come from within my mother, this voice sounded like spoiled milk.

“I should’ve killed you, demon.” I growled.

She smiled, four front teeth glimmering goldenly. “I have a name. Use it.”

I looked past her, towards the large wooden door that led to the stalactite’s point. I pointed at it, speaking her name.

“(Solidago.)” The speaking of the word made my tongue feel like a melting icicle. I hadn’t said the exact word, but something deeper, something forbidden.

She chirped happily through her thick set of teeth. “Yes?”

“O-Open that door,” I ordered.

She bowed swiftly, swiping at the small runnels of my blood in the dirt as she did. Skipping, she drew close to the door.

Then, almost reverently she slowed before it, carefully wiping my blood on the doorknob. It stained the bright brown into a deep, angry red.

Drawing her other hand to her teeth, she nipped quickly at her wrist. A thick, golden liquid beaded at the center of the gash, then wept out of the edges.

She collected it, then turned the wrist to her mouth as she spread the golden blood onto the doorknob.

The motion so closely mirrored the one I’d seen Mr. Montgomery make in Noel’s video that I wondered for a moment if they might be the same person.

The golden blood faded quickly, mixing with mine and bubbling into a vapor for a moment before cooling. Something inside the wall shifted loudly, and when she turned the knob, the door opened toward her.

Mist blew out of the darkness and into the forest in guttering waves.

Solidago stared into the misty darkness, grip tightening on the doorknob. Her ears perked up, eyes widening as she stared into the void of light.

Did she expect something to come out of it? I stood, preparing myself to walk into that darkness alone.

Behind me, the crack of a branch announced Bella making her way back to me. Her reins were loose around her neck, bit still between her teeth. She brayed as she saw me, and I turned to pat her. Grabbing her reins, I turned back to the door.

The woman was gone.

I peered into the empty alleys of the surrounding forest, but her golden trail had disappeared. Grimacing at the pain in my forearm, I led Bella to the gap in the wooden wall.

The thick mist cascaded out over us, stinging my eyes with some sort of gritty sand that the wind carried.

I stepped into the darkness carefully, tapping my foot to make sure there was a floor. I felt my boot connect with something soft and shifting.

I put my weight on it, and it held me, although shifting slightly. Fully entering the darkness, I blindly walked forward into the sand, pulling Bella through the doorway.

As soon as we were both on the shifting sand, the door slammed shut, and we were consumed by total darkness.

****

I could feel the mist turning about me, feel it brush past us in gritty gusts of wind as we walked forward into the void. Its strength was the only sign that we were moving at all.

I held Bella’s reins, walking forward blindly with my hand outstretched, hoping against hope for any sign of where I was meant to go.

The sand ate the sound of our footsteps, quickly filling the gaps in the leather of my boots. I made very sure not to turn around, not to even shift in the direction of my course.

In the claustrophobic vastness of the void, I tried to imagine the vastness of this room, the abyss that swallowed us. There was no way it fit into the forest that had sat atop the walled castle city I’d seen from outside.

We’d been walking up the city’s streets to the center of the castle, to the tip of the upside down spire. I’d seen where it must end, just behind the door that led into this room.

It didn’t make sense. None of this made sense.

Bella slowed for a moment, and I paused to give her a break, still staring sightlessly into the void, blasted with gusts of stinging sand.

What had that demon been afraid of? Why had she disappeared?

Demon? Can you fucking listen to yourself, for half a second? You’re crazy! You have officially gone insane.

Maybe. But… I could remember everything that led up to this point. There were questions, too many god damn questions, but if this wasn’t real, then what was really going on?

Am I having a seizure back at the police station?

That woman… What was her name? Horne. She’d rung my head pretty badly, then left me to sleep right after.

Isn’t that the one thing you’re not supposed to do after getting a head injury? After I wake up, Isaiah breaks me out. Then, all this crazy shit starts happening.

A wave of nausea came over me, the feeling that I was dying on the cot of a dirty cell rather than walking in a lightless void filling me with unparalleled dread. I honestly couldn't tell which reality I prefered.

I began walking again. Bella brayed in tuneless protest, but followed.

Could I just be imagining all of this?

“Could you not be?”

The voice sounded from within my head, but it felt like it was all around me, a quiet voice bleeding from the mists.

I wasn’t even surprised to hear it. That’s how bad this had gotten. Feeling curious, if a little on edge, I directed a thought at the voice.

Who are you?

It was silent for a moment, then responded with the same, quiet voice. It was the voice of my mind, only I wasn't the one controlling it.

“You,” you said.

I sighed, speeding up as I bit my lip. Speaking without talking, listening without hearing.

The least you can do is not mess with me.

You smiled. “When it is a horse.”

Fuck you. What does that even mean? Fuck you!

“Save your curses, and save your questions for the pool.”

What pool?

Silence.

“What POOL! Are we going swimming!?” I shouted, exasperated. Bella pulled against her reins in shock, my outcry dying in the void as quickly as it had left my lips.

The gritty wind continued to unceremoniously assault my face. I stopped. I’d been walking with my eyes closed. Now, staring forward, I saw light ahead.

“Birthing pool. Groundwater. The last star in a long dead sky.” You feel like crying for the first time in billions of years.

I walked toward the light.

****

The light was high in the sky, seeming to hover above the dunes of the desert.

Slowly, the light allowed shape returned to the landscape. We were walking in coarse, colorless sand, the mist mixing with the thick gusts of wind making it impossible to see even a few feet in front of me.

Bella had her head ducked against the wind, and I used the edge of my cloak to protect my eyes.

Next, color returned. My dark green robe glimmered in the weak sky-light. It never faltered, only growing stronger as we made our way through the relentless gray desert.

Above us, I could still see the rounded edge of the stalactite. Having come this close, I could see that the face of the pale stone was engraved with thin lines. The spire loomed in the sky above the light until it disappeared into the sand filled wind.

It couldn’t be more than a few minutes away. I pressed on, having to wrap Bella’s reins twice around my hand as she whinnied.

The sand chafed painfully against my wounds, catching in my eyelashes and nostrils, only seeming to buffet us stronger as we walked to the source of sky-light.

I tripped, catching myself at the bottom of a dune. Bella nosed at me, then turned away from the wind after I moved.

My foot had caught on something deep in the sand, and I could feel more things like it under my hands and knees. I gripped one, and pulled it out to reveal a dagger.

Or what had once been a dagger. Sand poured off of it in waves, disappearing into the pull of the wind. The blade was dull, and the handle had fallen off ages ago.

It looked like there’d been a carving on it once, but it too had been worn away. The others were much the same, some larger, some smaller, but all metallic blades that seemed to have been here for a long time.

The largest blade I found looked as if it had once been much larger. It was about two inches wide, three feet long, and still had its wooden handle and hilt in place.

It was heavy as hell, and still had its engravings on the side that had been buried deeper in the sand.

They were simple, thin lines that reminded me of a map of the human circulatory system. They were just like those etched into the spire.

Where did these come from? Who had once owned them?

“The pool,” you said.

The voice caught me off guard, but I shook my head staring down at the large sword resting atop the sand.

Do I bring it with me?

“No. She has earned her rest.”

She? You knew the owner of this blade?

“Yes. The Mothervein. I was her, and she will be me.” You stared at the sword, and coulf recall it as it once was. Woodswillow. Will the Mother remember you as such?

I slid the sword back into the sand, covering it carefully before I stood. It shifted slightly as I stepped past it. Bella turned back to me, facing the sandy winds to follow me, paying no attention to the blades hidden in the dunes. Ahead, the light glowed ever stronger.

Cautiously, I walked on the metal remains hiding beneath the thin coat of sand. On the leeward side of a dune, we were protected momentarily from the whipping winds. Staring up at the light, I nearly tripped again on a resting blade.

As we crossed the dunes, the valleys grew deeper, and the peaks higher. In the darkened depths of one misty dune, we stepped noisily across a pile of blades unearthed by the wind.

I watched Bella carefully here, escorting her across the shifting pile of dull, gleaming metal that peaked out of the blanket of mist.

As I stepped out of the valley, I finally saw the stalactite’s end. Its point was hidden inside a tower, made of the same pale stone as the spire itself. Having seen the structure at its full size from outside the castle walls, its end seemed impossibly small.

Looking up, it was the only thing I could see. The taper was gradual, but even a few miles above me, it encompassed the entire sky.

Light spilled out from the top of the crenelated tower, radiating across the nearby dunes and illuminating the mist in the air.

The mist itself poured out from the first floor of the tower, which was built without walls. Bare, pale stone pillars circled a metal platform, holding up the rest of the walled tower.

I sped up the hill towards the tower, towards the point of the spire, trailing Bella behind me.

The mist grew thickest as I rose to the top of the sandy hill. It was cold, but contained no sand. It seemed pure, smelling somehow more fresh and full than ever. I breathed deeply, feeling the cold, pure vapor in my lungs, and finally crested the hill.

Standing in the flickering lamp light of the pale stone tower was my Professor, speaking to a woman I’d never seen before.

I stared in shock at Professor Mecardi, feeling my stomach turn in confusion and disgust.

He was in front of the room’s centerpiece: a stone pool, where the pure white mist poured in heavy waves. A lectern sat in front of him with a large book spread on it.

The circular room was littered with tables full of books and beakers, the outskirts stocked with large wooden racks of weapons and tools. The woman knelt beside the pool, staring up at my Professor respectfully.

Both of them wore swords on their belts. My professor was dressed in robes just like mine.

With my mouth agape, I felt a great pain twinge in the back of my brain, once, twice, left eye twitching in sympathy before I fell on my knees.

I stared up at the two of them, the woman, tall and muscular in her thick leather garb, staring back at me, annoyed. My professor looked on in confused amusement.

I vomited onto the pale floor, and then collapsed.

****

“Hey. Drink up.” A woman’s rough tone.

There was a metal taste on my tongue, and something heavy resting on my teeth, pouring liquid into my mouth. Someone shook me firmly, then patted my shoulder.

The liquid was thick, and instantly coated the inside of my mouth. It was a bitter, acidic bile.

I swallowed quickly, not being able to breathe. My head ached in rhythm with my heart, waves of pain radiating out and down my body. I was shivering, thrust suddenly into consciousness, and wishing I hadn’t been.

I kept my eyes closed, feeling my pulse in the stem of my brain as I swallowed more glugs of the liquid.

“Welcome back.”

She pulled the metal spout out of my mouth, and I finally swallowed all of the bile. I tried to speak, but my mouth felt like it was full of sludge.

“Be quiet. And unclench your jaw.”

I did, not realizing that I had been. I could breathe again, but even that was painful. Although…

The pain was dulling as I lay on the ground. Waves of pain slowly melted into pleasurable bursts of comfort and warmth, like I’d just taken a shot.

Even the pain from the cut and bite Solidago had dealt me had eased. I breathed slowly now, and rested my head against the cold stone.

After a moment's breather, I finally opened my eyes.

The meager lamp light almost blinded me at first. It lit the circular room with its fluttering flame, revealing the woman who’d been standing in front of my professor holding a white and gold spouted jug she had made me drink from.

She was chubby, wearing a large leather jerkin and a large, heavy looking sword on her belt, just above her leggings.

I was on the floor of the tower. This close, the stone felt more like a sheet of thin, cold metal, engraved with spidery lines, all parallel to one another. This close, they looked like a never ending system of veins and nerves.

“Fffnmg,” I groaned wetly.

“Yeah,” she agreed, placing a warm towel over my eyes. She pushed me slowly onto my side, and I felt something wet trickle out of my mouth. I coughed, spitting out a pool of collected blood, phlegm and mysterious bile onto the pale metal floor.

She eased me onto my back again, wiping away the mess, and finally, I saw the spire in its entirety.

The point of the spire was directly above the pool of perfect white mist, hovering a few feet above it. It ended in a sharp, miniscule point, all of the parallel engravings running together to meet at the end of the stalactite.

The tower itself was designed to encompass the very end of the spire, only a few stories tall and hollow, the tapering stalactite fitting directly into the middle of it, and ending just above the pool of ever drifting mist.

Above the tower itself, I could see the glass box that held the sky-light from the desert. It seemed dimmer, now that I was right below it.

“Quite the view.” The woman stood after speaking, lifting a wooden bucket and rag from the metal floor.

“Where am I?” My voice sounded old, cracked, and tired.

“Home,” you said, smiling softly.

“You were almost dead. You’re alive for a little longer, thanks to him.” The woman nodded to my professor, who stood looking over the wooden lectern at the two of us.

She carried the jug and bucket across the circular room, pouring its brackish contents out into the sand beyond. Then, she placed the white and gold jug into the center of the misty pool, just below the point of the stalactite. Turning to my professor, she asked, “It’s settled then?”

My professor turned to her, hands on the wooden lectern like they were when he was presenting in front of a classroom. “Yes, roadmaster. Thank you.”

She turned to go, then looked back. “Do you see me, Alex Mecardi?” She bowed slightly, putting her three center fingers onto her chin, stubby fingernails facing him.

He nodded, bowing slightly with his index and middle finger to his chin. “I see you, Maxine Anderson.”

She put the bucket and rag down against a large round pillar, then stepped off of the metal platform of the tower’s first floor.

And disappeared.

There was no other way to explain what I’d just seen. She should have stepped down off of the pale metal and into the misted sand, but she didn’t. She just stepped through the gap, and then was gone.

As soon as she left, the room shifted. The wooden racks of weapons that had filled the background disappeared with her, leaving a puff of mist as they quickly took another shape.

More bookcases, and more tables littered with chemistry equipment and books took form from the mist, seemingly as solid as the racks they had been moments ago.

I turned to my professor, and stood slowly. Somehow, I managed not to fall down, still shaking as I righted myself.

He was still standing behind his lectern, looking down at the large book laid out on it. He looked up at me as I stood, blinked, then spoke.

“Parker. Are you feeling okay?”

I stared at him, somewhere between amazement and hatred. “No. Absolutely not.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said.

I spoke quickly, almost interrupting him. “What the hell are you doing down here? What the hell is this place, and why am I here? What do you have to do with all of this?”

He smiled, and it was one I was familiar with. I’d seen it come across his face while he discussed historical essays or particularly cogent philosophical ideas.

It was somewhat guarded, a tiny smirk that showed he was thinking, but still listening. He turned to a table behind him, littered with old leather bound books and flasks.

“One question at a time,” he said slowly.

I slowly rounded the pool of mist, watching his back as he looked down at an open book, adjusting one of the glass vials, which was filled with a clear liquid.

"I deserve as many answers as I want. The last few hours have been hell, and at the end of it, I find you." He turned from his equipment to me, and I jabbed a finger at him.

“I know, Parker.” His smile had been replaced with a grave, serious expression. “I have to explain this to you carefully, and quickly. You’re in danger, and we’ve-.” He sighed, closing his eyes. “I’ve put you there.”

“Sure,” I said, speaking animatedly, “Let’s start there. What the hell are you doing with these people? Maxine, Isaiah, Stash. What did you all do to me, and why?”

“We poisoned you.” He didn’t seem the smallest bit ashamed, standing there, perfectly still. “With thallium.”

“Wait, what? Why?”

“Your employer,” he said seriously. “Mr. Montgomery.”

His face flashed in my mind. I saw him at the front door, welcoming me into his home, showing me his study, the false memories, the knife he had handed me, and his daughter holding his rifle, meaning to fire it into my chest.

“I see you already have an idea of his capabilities. Memories falling into place, replacing old constructions? That would be the ichor.” He said it all so matter-of-factly, I could barely stop to think.

Ichor. Blood of the Gods?

“Goddess.”

“Blood of the Goddess?” I asked, my voice sounding strange to my own ears.

He was taken aback. “It must be further along than I thought. Perhaps the dosage… No matter, the amount of thallium in the mixture should’ve killed you on the spot. We gave you the ichor to slow the-”

“Hold on, you’re who kidnapped Mr. Montgomery?”

“Yes,” he nodded. “You were instrumental in our plan, and I do apologize that we used you.”

“Don't--Don't even go there. Not unless you mean it.” I took a breath, and looked around the bizarre circular room, then blew it out slowly. “There's no going back from this, is there? My life will never be normal again.”

“Parker. All we need you to do is cast a vote. After that, we can help you, and make you forget all of this. I give you my word.” He bowed his head, placing a hand to his chest.

“Aw, thanks, teach. Now tell me, can you make an FBI agent forget about the pizza delivery boy who broke me out of prison? How about the fifteen cops that saw me get arrested? How about my family, who probably think I'm a criminal on the run now?”

For the first time in my life, I saw real shock on Professor Mecardi's face. Then, he closed his eyes and pinched his nose, raising his eyebrows in as much annoyance as shock.

“Yeah," I said. “Didn't think so.”

He paused, tapping a finger against his pursed lips. “We can't do that,” he said slowly, “but we can fix this. We know this is our fault, and we're ready to-”

“Okay, sure, just-. Why did you have to pick me?” I stammered, putting my own hand to my chest. “Why poison me?”

He paused, breathing deeply, then exhaled through his nose slowly. Then, almost a whisper: “Do you remember your final essay?”

“What does this have to do with a stupid essay competition? I can’t even believe I’m looking at the same person I turned that essay into.”

“You are, Parker. I’ll explain it all, just, let me, yes?” He was pleading with me.

“Fine.” I nodded, crossing my arms.

“Okay. Your history covers the nature of Old Hill. How the town has gone through several booms and busts. And, your theory was…?”

He smiled expectantly, and I couldn’t keep it from disgusting me. The worst part was that it felt normal. This is how we would talk in class, and here we were, beneath a metal stalactite larger than God, buried underneath a mountain.

I sighed. “My theory was that Old Hill is heading for another boom. In the past, it was coal, gold, arsenic, tungsten, and now it’s real estate, via the gentrification of Old Hill’s mainstreet and available high end cabin locations.” I was essentially quoting my essay’s thesis back at him, and he was eating it up.

He smiled, and nodded. “Yes, well, you're more right than you know. There were people behind these booms and busts, yes? These people got rich here, then left to change the world?” He quirked his eyebrow, waiting for me to agree.

I nodded, feeling my anger boil underneath the surface. “That’s the American dream. Make it big and escape the nowhere town, change the world, and get rich doing it.”

“Yes. Sure. But can that happen to anyone?” He smirked, waiting for my retort.

“Sure. Niel Armstrong was a kid from Ohio, and he ended up on the Moon. Every small town has its heroes.” I played dumb, hoping it would help him get to his point.

“Yes. But Old Hill has more than most. Cycles of vast riches, then great poverty.”

“...And?”

“First it's gold, coal, wood, then arsenic, then tungsten, now real estate. They all profit off the labor and the land of those beneath them, but when the land's bled dry?” He motioned as he spoke, posing his final question dramatically.

I paused. “I… Nothing, if work dries up, the workers will leave.”

“Not these workers,” he tutted in a sing song voice, looking half mad. “Sure, some will leave, but Old Hill? These people, their history… These people will stick to their legacy. They'll suck these people dry, Parker.”

“How?”

“They already have, have been for a while. Think about it. They've chained the people to the mountain, and it’s given Old Hill all that it can. Now that all we’ve got is empty hills, they've gone looking to profit off the land. And when that drys up, all that's left is-”

“What are you saying? What does this have to do with Kyle Montgomery?”

“Everything. He owns those real estate companies, he’s been building those condos. He’s poisoning the town, and profiting off of it.” He put his fist down on his lectern, then stepped out from behind it, walking slowly closer to me as I spoke.

“So you kidnap him? You poison me? To what end?” I slowly backed up as he approached, and he put his hands out, as if not to spook a horse.

“He is a vampire, Parker. He drank from you. He drank from the whole city. It was the only way to stop him.”

He stopped, putting his hands together as if in prayer. “Please, just think about it. All of the ichor inside you has to help you realize that he’s been pulling the wool over your eyes. He’s been feeding on you, ever since you stepped foot into his house. You were the only way to get to him.”

I had backed up into a pillar of the tower. I felt the cool metal line my spine, then closed my eyes to think.

Without even trying hard to remember, I found more dual memories, melting as simply as a child's lie in the light of the sun. Over and over, I remembered him knocking on my door before bed, looking me in the eyes, and telling me to let him in.

Then, I would do it. He would hand me the same knife as before, and I would slice into my wrist, letting him drink from the thick red blood that welled there. It hurt, but I wanted to help him. It felt good. Then, after he had drank from me, he would put his wrist against my mouth, his own lips red like wine-

I grimaced in disgust at the memories, forcing them out of my mind with sheer will.

“I hate this,” I said, fury making my voice shake. “I wanted no fucking part in any of this.”

He stepped forward again, shaking his head slowly. “As much as I wish it wasn’t the case, Parker, he was using you. He would’ve killed you, within time.”

“Maybe that’s better than-.” I stopped, tears welling at my eyes as I looked around the room. I groaned, just wanting to scream. “All of this. All of this fucking sucks.”

“I agree,” he said softly. “We needed to do something to help you.”

“So you poisoned me? And then erased my memory of it?” My voice was rising in pitch now, my chest tight.

“Nothing that nefarious,” he said, “Just in your water. I had to do it, to save you, Parker.”

“I wish you hadn’t,” I spat. “For once, I had something approaching normalcy. What did you do with him, anyway? Is he dead?”

“No,” he shook his head, jaw firm. ��I voted against killing him.”

“So, just keep him alive indefinitely? I mean, what’s the plan here?” My voice was frayed, on the edge of delirium, a moment away from breaking into disturbed laughter. “Where is he?”

My professor took a breath, and straightened his back. “He’s here. I had him bound.”

“Oh, ‘cause he’s such a threat?”

He nodded gravely. “He is. You’ve only seen a fraction of what he can do.”

“Show me. Prove to me that he’s a-.” I paused, shaking my head. “A vampire.”

He nodded, serious as ever as he turned and crossed the room, leading me to a heavy looking wooden crate. He put his arms and hip against the crate, pushing it off of a raised circle in the pale metal, a handle poking out of the floor.

He bent, grabbed the handle, and raised the trap door. It was pitch black inside, mist spilling tendrils down into the darkness. My professor grabbed the lantern from a table, shining oily firelight down into the pit.

Inside, was Kyle Montgomery. He stared up at us, ten feet down, blinking at the light that gleamed off of the blood slick chains that bound him.

He was in a ruined suit, his short blond hair slick with sweat, blood and worse. The walls of the pit were too tight for him to stand, so he crouched in a pool of brackish water.

He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing resembling speech came out. Trying again, he managed, “Water.”

“Jesus Christ,” I whispered hoarsely.

“Spare your sympathy,” he said, and spit down the pit at Kyle, who flinched as the spittle landed on his cheek. “It’s a monster.” I glanced down at the sword on Professor Mecardi’s belt.

“Parker?” The man’s ruined voice called up to me. “Help me. You need-” He broke into a coughing fit, then adjusted himself, the chains clinking against each other like airless windchimes. “Don’t listen to him. Just, please. Help me.”

I opened my mouth, then closed it, turning to Mecardi, stomach churning at the sight, let alone the smell that wafted up from the pit. “Why are you doing this to him? What did he do to deserve this?”

Slowly, he closed the trap door. Kyle’s whispered cries grew to a crescendo as the door slammed shut, silencing him. My professor looked at me, stepping close as he spoke.

“When I open this, I need you to focus on the words he’s saying. Really focus. Close your eyes and listen, and once you hear it for what it truly is, open your eyes. You will see your proof.”

I lowered my eyebrows, staring back at the professor. I nodded, but held up a finger. “Is this what the vote is on? To kill or keep this man alive?”

Mecardi nodded back, saying, “Yes. He may be a valuable asset alive, as much as he deserves death.”

“No. If the vote falls on not killing him, he’s set free. Nobody deserves this." I paused, then added, "No thing."

He bit his lip, then nodded. “The others draw near. We will vote on it when the time comes.”

Then, checking I was ready, he nodded one last time. He raised the trap door once more.

I closed my eyes, listening to the cries of a helpless man. “Water,” he said again, then apparently seeing me again, he cleared his throat. “Parker. I need you to get me out of here, Parker.”

Thinking of his lips on my wrist, mine on his, sucking blood out of free flowing veins, I screwed my eyes shut further, willing the ichor inside me to spread.

“See true, hear true, my host…” You croon in pleasure, stretching unused muscles for the first time in untold eons.

The voice of Kyle Montgomery slowly melted from a raspy, tired man, to that of a wounded animal. He screamed. It was a full, blood curdling cry of a creature, something non-human beating at the inside of its cage, hurt, scared, hungry and furious.

“Do you hear it?” My professor asked, voice mellow over the vicious screams. After I nodded, he said, “Open your eyes. Look upon its true form.”

Blood slick chains writhed in tortured tension, keeping the beast pinned to the bottom of the pit. It was still Kyle Montgomery, clothed in his expensive suit and tie, but the way his body moved…

It was impossible. He wasn’t human. His body bent at fatal angles, faster than I could properly see. He was a blur of arms and legs, screaming with no language or goal behind it, just pure anguish.

Not once did the chains slacken, they were always pulled tight around his form. At his belt, there was a sword. I could make it out in the fleeting moments between his crazed writhing.

It was a thin, needlelike saber. His screams never took the shape of communication in my mind, continuing as a never ending stream of pain and fear.

“Close it,” I whispered.

Mecardi did, watching me carefully. The screams were finally silenced.

I crouched silently, thick cloak gently billowing in the mist on the floor. I shook my head, then stood.

He did too, placing a foot over the trap door and staring at me like I might injure myself. After I had spent a full minute staring at the metal plate, he spoke quietly. “Are you okay?”

I moved my eyes to meet his, then laughed genuinely, heartily, until I ran out of breath. Heaving fresh lungfuls of the sour smelling air, I had to make an effort to stop laughing as I stepped back.

“What’s so funny?”

The young boy's voice took me a moment to recognize, and I realized it belonged to Isaiah a second before I turned to see him entering the mist coated tower.

He was smiling, poncho fluttering in the misty wind as he rounded the pool in the center of the room, stopping to do a hanging spin from one of the circular pillars holding the tower up.

Stash blinked into existence behind him, stepping into the tower from nothing. The folds in her draping red dress held no dusting of gray sand. She frowned, surveying the scene warrily from the back of the room, hands on her hips.

Cheerily, Isaiah turned to her. “Hi-low,” he drawled.

"Hinny-minny," Stash echoed.

After a moment, the woman who had given me the ‘ichor’ appeared to Stash’s left, stopping for a moment to pat Bella's mane and give her a treat.

She stood, contemplative as she took in the others. She looked as if she was waiting for something.

All three of them had swords on their belts.

Stash nodded to the taller, larger woman. “Max.”

She just grunted, then turned to the professor and I, expectantly. Then, the room shifted again.

Just as it had when Max disappeared, the room's decor puffed into mist before slowly regathering into different furniture. The racks of weapons had been replaced, and now joined sets of armor.

Where the room had been disarrayed, it was now perfectly in order, books slid back into their place on bookshelves, tables lined themselves up in a perfect circle around the pool, even the lectern puffed into mist momentarily to shift itself slightly to fit in front of the largest of the wooden tables.

This table was round, while all the others were curved rectangles. It held a large map of Old Hill, with pins keeping it from fluttering off of the tabletop.

Little figures were arrayed on the map, varying in size, shape, and color. On the western edge of the map, the mountain range sat like a massive natural wall. The map was one I recognized, I had seen it in the historical society's museum, not too long ago.

“I love it when that happens,” Isaiah said, jumping onto one of the benches of the outer tables just to vault the table itself. He landed with turned down untied boots up on the metal edge of the pool of mist, leaning back on the table behind him. “We ready to do this?” He grinned up at me, smiling like it was his last.

Max grumbled, then stepped forward into the center of the tables, standing opposite Isaiah. “There was no vote called for your actions tonight. You were reckless, and endangered all of us.” She stood with her arms crossed over her leather jerkin, staring down at Isaiah with a scowl.

“If I didn’t save him, they would’ve killed him,” Isaiah said, shrugging as he looked up at her. “Either that or the poison. The fed they stuck him with already gave him a concussion, then let him sleep. I played hockey, man. That shit kills people.”

I touched my forehead, feeling the dull ache through the softer waves of pleasure the ichor provided. Mecardi sighed, stepping up to the lectern, looking down and across the small gathering.

Stash joined the other two in the center circle, sitting with her back straight on the bench next to Isaiah’s. Her long braid rested perfectly on her back, and had been threaded with a long red ribbon.

Without thinking, she had adjusted her scabbard to fit in the gap between bench and table. The other two had as well, I realized.

“Please, gentlemen. We must vote on the matter at hand, not bicker at how we got here.” Mecardi frowned, looking at Isaiah, who still was locked in a glaring contest with Max. “I did not approve of Isaiah’s actions. He acted rashly.”

Stash leaned toward Isaiah. “I told you so,” she stage-whispered. Isaiah finally broke the stare, looking up at me with a sly ‘well, what-are-you-gonna-do?’ look.

“However,” Mecardi said, pausing to let them refocus. “Parker is now safe, which is only right, as he was fundamental to our plan.” He turned back, looking at me expectantly. I shifted awkwardly, until he spoke. “Please, have a seat.” He motioned to the last remaining bench sitting before the mist filled well.

I rounded the room, staring out at the lit dunes of sand beyond the tower, thinking of the swords that lay hidden beneath them. Then, carefully slipping between the tables, I sat in between Stash and Max, staring up at my professor.

“Now. I call the council to order,“ he intoned. Isaiah’s back straightened, getting up off the edge of the table as he stared into the mist coming out of the large pool. “Parker has asked for a vote. He says a vote in favor of letting the Montgomery beast live should be a vote for setting him free. We shall vote for this first.”

Max looked at me, face unreadable. The others remained silent.

Mecardi cleared his throat, then looked at all of us in turn as he spoke. “All in favor of setting the beast free, raise your hand. All in favor of keeping the beast in the oubliette, stay your hands.”

I hesitated, but raised my hand. I was only joined by Isaiah. My heart sank, but then roiled with a thin slick of anger.

“Horseshit,” Isaiah said, mirroring my emotions. “Why the hell would we keep him? Man’s got a wife and child.”

Max smirked at him, voting hand firmly below her waist. “Of course he does. It makes him less evil. Those things will take any opportunity to seem like one of us.”

“But they are not,” my professor said, grimacing. “The only good it serves the world is dead, or helping us study the ichor more closely.”

“So you admit it!” Isaiah stood up, slamming a fist against Mecardi’s lectern. “All you want to do is keep him and experiment on him. That’s fucked.”

“Sit down,” Max said, standing and towering over the boy.

“Admission implies guilt,” Mecardi said, steadying himself on the wooden lectern above us. “Anything I do to that thing has no moral weight on my soul, for it is a beast of destruction and death. You know this well, Isaiah. You apprehended the beast, and still bear the scars-”

“Shut up,” I said, “Just stop talking. Isaiah has done the exact same thing that the man you have in the pit did to me. He didn’t drink from me, but he acts the same as Kyle Montgomery. Tell me the difference.”

Isaiah turned to me, affronted. “I am not a monster. He was set to kill you, and has killed many times before. I saved you. Do not compare me with that man,” he said, voice cracking with emotion.

“Quiet,” Mecardi spoke loudly, and Isaiah and Max returned to silence, then sat. “Now. We vote on the beast’s death.”

I breathed in deeply, feeling the ichor ache happily inside me. I’ve used that same power on Solidago. Am I any better than Isaiah? Than Montgomery? I had turned to it before for my decisions, and it made me fear how long it had been inside me.

If this shit had been here for months, had it been steering the course of my life? Will this choice be taken from me as well?

“All in favor of killing the beast, raise your hand. Those in favor of keeping it alive, stay your hand.”

Max raised her hand. Isaiah raised his hand.

Stash and Professor Mecardi didn’t move.

The decision was left to me.

What do you do?

< ≡ >

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starlit-hopes-and-dreams · 2 years

Text

Chapter 5 ~ Version 1: Bleeding out

Hidden Depths AU

Previous ~ Masterlist ~ Next

AU of AU (V.2 Game Over)

Genre: Fantasy whump

CWs: This one's also a dead dove. Specifically for gore and character death (whumper), but we also have all these other lovely things: noncon nudity, noncon touch, captivity, creepy/intimate whumper, lady whump, forced to watch, restraints, muzzled/gagged whumpee, knife whump, stabbing, lots of blood, shoulder dislocation, attempted rape/rape- could be viewed either way (not explicit), slit throat, amputation(s)- say goodbye to an important male appendage and a hand Marcus >:), gutted, more blood, all the blood, soooo much blood, uh, choking (on said appendage), asphyxiation, doing whatever it takes to get free of restraints :D

WC: 1748

Taglist: @kixngiggles

A/N: My first post of the new year, and it features a mutilated corpse. Sweet! :D

As a reward for enduring the game over version of this chapter, I present to you this wonderfully gory mess-enjoy!

Resh

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. From the moment Marcus attacked Carr after she broke his nose to now, with Carr crumpled on the floor a few inches in front of Resh. With a fucking knife handle sticking out of her back.

Resh blinked, hoping he was hallucinating. Unfortunately, it seemed he was not. The pain in his shoulders was very real, as was the motionless figure of the girl he… gods, the girl he loved… fuck. Fuck!

“Carr, get up,” he begged. Tears slipped down his cheeks when she still didn’t move. The fractures in his heart cracked open a little wider. Gods, no, she couldn’t be dead, she couldn’t be... “Please, Carr, you have to get up. Get up, get up, get up.”

“Fucking pits, I thought you’d never stop. If I’d known, I’d’ve just stabbed you to begin with,” Marcus said, swiping his sleeve across his nose. He leaned over and plucked the knife from Carr’s body, resheathing it at his waist.

She didn’t so much as twitch, even though blood pooled in the hole left behind before spilling down her side. Godsdamn, half her body was coated in fresh and dried blood; how much did she have left to lose?

When Marcus stared down at her body, Resh hoped he was finished with her. That he would finally turn his attention to Resh and give Carr some room to recover. Because she wasn’t dead. She couldn’t be dead.

Marcus didn’t do that, though. Because why would he when he could be a sadistic bastard? Instead, he smirked and delivered a vicious kick to Carr’s side. She curled around herself, which was at least a sign of life.

If she cried out, Resh couldn’t hear it through the muzzle.

Resh wanted to scream for her, but he held it in. Barely. He yanked against the chains instead, just to feel the strain on his shoulders, the metal cutting into his wrists. He deserved the pain. It should be him lying on the floor half-dead, not her. She should’ve left him behind, escaped, but she hadn’t. And now Resh could do nothing.

He was so close; if even one hand had been free, he could’ve touched her. Instead, he was reduced to begging. Useless fucking begging, which Marcus ignored like he had every other word Resh had uttered.

Marcus kicked Carr again, flipping her onto her back. He straddled her hips. Pinned her hands above her head.

Her whole body stiffened. The faint whimper she released, along with the tears trickling down her temple into her hair, stabbed deep into Resh’s already fractured heart.

“Carr, I’m here,” Resh said brokenly. A weight descended on him, seeming to crush his chest and stall his breath in his lungs as Marcus reached down to loosen the ties on his pants. “I’m here, I’m here.”

She went limp at the sound of his voice, and Marcus laughed.

“How sweet,” Marcus said. “Your lover is here for you, to watch you get fucked by another, better man. How do you feel about that, Carr? Oh wait, I don’t care.” He raised his hips slightly to adjust himself.

Carr immediately took advantage of the lack of weight pinning her down, the leverage Marcus conveniently provided by pinning her wrists. Resh had no clue how, but somehow she pulled her body back enough to get her knee up. She slammed it into Marcus’ groin.

Marcus reared back, a high-pitched squeak emerging from his lips.

Now that her hands were free, Carr wriggled, trying to pull away. But before she could get far, Marcus unsheathed the dagger at his waist and plunged it through Carr’s shoulder, pinning her to the floor.

“No!” Resh shouted, shuddering as the knife tip scraped against stone. Something broke apart inside him at the sound of her muffled scream.

“Bitch,” Marcus growled, grabbing her hair to slam her head against the stone. Again and again, until her body went limp.

Resh could barely see through his tears. He would give anything for this not to be happening. Would trade places with her in a heartbeat. But when Carr’s dazed eyes met his, he forced himself to blink them away. All he could do was give her some kind of anchor while Marcus climbed back up her battered and bruised body.

Resh spoke to her, but he didn’t understand the words coming from his own mouth. He pulled and tugged against his chains, trying to slip his hands through the manacles. His skin tore, and more blood dripped down his arms. There was a pop and flare of red-hot pain in his right shoulder. He barely felt any of it.

He deserved it, for failing to get her out. For not being able to help.

For allowing this to happen.

For, for…

A waterfall of red splattered across Carr’s chest.

Resh blinked.

Carr wasn’t laying on the ground anymore. Marcus was.

Marcus was lying on the ground, clutching at his throat. Droplets of crimson seeped out from between his fingers.

Had she… had Carr ripped the dagger from her own shoulder? She must have. Resh sagged in his chains, trying to catch up mentally.

But he couldn’t catch up because Carr was on Marcus now, and he was suddenly minus an appendage. His scream was garbled as he choked on his own blood.

Well, not for long. Soon he was choking on something else, a piece of himself that was shoved down his throat, exactly as Carr had promised.

Despite her injuries–probably in spite of them, knowing Carr–she moved fucking fast. Resh imagined that Marcus wouldn’t live much longer with a slit throat, never mind the blood soaking through his breeches. But she clearly wasn’t done with him yet.

Resh felt a savage satisfaction that she wanted to inflict as much suffering on the prince as possible before he choked to death on his own blood. Err, dick. Before he choked to death on his own dick. Resh swallowed back the hysterical laugh that tried to break free.

Almost faster than he could follow, she moved on. Carr pried Marcus’ right hand away from his throat and pinned it to his stomach, driving the dagger through his wrist.

Marcus writhed, a disturbing wet whistle emerging from his throat with his groans while Carr quickly sawed through the joint. When she was done, she took his severed hand and shoved it inside his pants.

Resh would’ve cringed at the statement she was making, but he was so angry and heartbroken that he would’ve helped her do it if he wasn’t chained to the godsdamned fucking wall.

Then she gutted him. Ripped out his fucking insides and threw them over his face. The wet slap of pink, glistening intestine hitting the stone by Marcus’ head was…

Holy fuck. Resh wasn’t sure his eyes could get any wider. He could only imagine what Carr would say if she wasn’t muzzled.

Fuckin’ promised I would do this, didn’t I. Should’ve listened, but you’re a dumb fuck with nothin’ but shit for brains. Your loss.

Actually, Resh was pretty sure her language would be more inventive than that, but that was the best his traumatized mind could come up with at the moment.

He smiled when he realized Marcus wasn’t screaming anymore. Marcus’ body spasmed in increasingly weak motions while the stone beneath him greedily drank his blood, the bright red becoming nothing more than a rusty stain that spread in an ever-widening circle.

The next length of gut Carr threw knocked Marcus’ limp hand from his torn throat. His wide, sightless eyes were fixed on the ceiling, and what could be seen of his face was frozen in a horrified grimace. The whole thing couldn’t have taken much more than a minute, but holy gods, had it been a satisfying death to witness.

Carr reached the end of her excavation and hunched over Marcus' body, painted in blood from head to toe. Her shoulders shook.

“Carr,” Resh attempted, but his voice cracked. He cleared his throat and tried again, blinking back tears. “Carr, you did good. It’s over. I’m so fucking proud of you.”

Slowly, she looked up at him. Her hazel eyes appeared shockingly green within the red mask that covered her face.

“Does he have the key, Carr? I need to take care of you, but I can’t unless…”

Achingly slowly, looking on the verge of collapse at any second, Carr searched Marcus’ mutilated body. She pulled out a tiny silver key, barely visible in her shaking hand when she held it up to show him.

“Good! That’s good, Carr,” Resh said. It felt like he was coaxing her, which thoroughly disgusted him, but she was clearly in shock. He needed to keep her moving. If she collapsed, she could very well die of blood loss before anyone ever found them. Someone finding them would be another disaster in itself, but one he could worry about later. For now…

“Can you bring it over?” Gods, he hated asking her to move, but she was out of reach, several handspans from where he kneeled. And he was fucking helpless. Helpless to help her when she most needed it.

She did as he asked. Tears fell down her face while she dragged herself over to him, leaving trails of pink in the drying blood coating her. They were eerily similar to the rusty blood stains that sank into the stone behind her.

Resh couldn’t tell if the tears were from pain or something else. Either way, they shattered what was left of his heart.

It wasn’t until she reached him that Resh realized she was still holding the dagger. She rested her head on his thighs and brought the dagger to her cheek.

“Carr, no, stop. What are you doing?” Resh asked, frantic when she began to saw at the vines that made up the muzzle. “I can help when I’m free… stop it, Carr!”

She was slicing into her cheek along with the vine, but she didn’t seem to notice. And this time, she didn’t listen. Fresh crimson trickled over the dried, flaking blood coating her cheek.

The vine eventually snapped, and the dagger fell to the floor. Carr peeled the remnants off her face and pried the strip of fabric from her mouth. When she was done, she curled around Resh’s legs and closed her eyes.

And no amount of coaxing from him could get her to move again.

Image Description

[ID: The banner is a sepia-colored version of the original blue-green background, with tree branches arching over a set of blue-green eyes, forming an approximation of a face. The words Hidden Depths AU are written in white above the eyes. end ID]

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pepsicolabunches · 2 days

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Tumblr ads showing me "fashion trends" but it's ????? Childhood photo re-creation and everyones naked??? Like there's a full tiddy out??? They are naked in the tub??? It's his DAUGHTER???? WTF tumblr And below it is like siblings but also naked??? Wdym fashion?? Everyones naked what are you selling?

Why does tumblr think it's ok to show me nude photos of like... A father and adult daughter???

#tw incest #??? tumblr get your shit together you explicitly say ppl cant show nudity and then force it on us in ads??? and we cant say no???

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sashi-ya · 4 months

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𝑪𝑼𝑻𝑺 𝑶𝑭 𝑭𝑹𝑬𝑬𝑫𝑶𝑴 「 part 1 」 soshiro hoshina x f! officer! reader

a/n: yes! first Kaiju no. 8 fic ever! idk how many of you would like to read from Kaiju but I've been obsessed with it lately, and especially with Soshiro. it's pretty short and wrote it cause I needed to think of other things after studying. So yeah, enjoy! tw: there aren't "sex" scenes, however mdni as it has suggestive language, nudity and mature content. (thank god for this manga having almost every character above 25!). Pretty much inspired on Soshi's backstory from Kaiju no 8 side B, so expect fluff too. what happened on the following days? more Soshiro smut, here. masterlist

“I can’t take the suit off” you murmur, trying to lower the front zipper. The mission took much more than what you expected, and the kaiju stench is making you nauseous.

For the time being, most of your squad members have already jumped into the showers. But you, still trying to get out of the suit, haven’t.

“I… this shit… why is it not working?” you protest, forcing the zipper more and more, but it hasn’t been able to go down past the beginning of your chest.

You try to look for the intercom; pressing it to call the Operations leader Konomi, will surely help you out with the captive suit. But, you can’t find it. Did you lose the little intercom before coming back to the base? Or did it fell around there?

Everything seems to be flaunting tonight. It’s late, you are tired. You’ve been hit several times by different Kaiju, but none of them -luckily- was able to injure you.

However, you begin to feel an incredible -and uncontrollable- heat coming from the suit itself and reaching the inner layers of your skin and organs.

You don’t panic. At first.

You definitely panic two minutes later, when the heat is unbearable and the pain in such restrictive jail is almost deadly.

“Help…” you whine, not loud enough to be heard by anyone else. Or at least, definitely not enough to be listened over the lively chattering coming from the showers.

But it hurts, as much as the acid of those despicable monsters when their core explode. And it really begins to interfere with your breathing, and thus, with your consciousness.

“Help me… I’m burning…” you scream louder this time. But no one comes, and your knees hit the ground in pain.

Tears flood up your eyes, your nails aren’t enough to tear the thick skin of Izumo Techs’ innovative suit. No guns are enough, probably, even if you had the chance to go grab yours… it wouldn’t be useful.

You pray, you wish for someone to cut that trap into pieces.

“H- help… me…” “WHAT IS IT?!”

In between blurred eyes and painful frown, you device an angel of slanted eyes and deep purple hair.

“I… the suit… it’s boiling… it’s overheating… I can’t take it off” you grasp a little bit of air and try to communicate -effectively- the reason of your suffering.

“Stay quiet” he commands, and you comply. There is nothing you wouldn’t do to go against his orders.

An immediate relief comes with enough cuts that you couldn’t even see. Completely naked, completely soaked in sweat. There you lay, panting, with still stings of pain reverberating all over your skin.

“Come here” he says, ripping the remaining pieces off the suit still ferally attached to your burning skin. And as feral as the suit is, the feral his hands are when ripping its pieces away.

“Vice-captain Hoshina… th-thank you…” you cry, completely unaware of your impure show off.

His eyes open widely, and for the first time you see the beautiful bloody irises he usually keeps hidden away. But his expression is not jovial, nor even neutral. He is by far worried.

Probably for the first time in ages, the blades have fallen to the ground and with those same hands he saved your life he hurries to carry you to the men’s showers.

At the speed of light, cold water begins to gush from the showerheads. Your body feels instant relief; so much there is even some vapor coming from your skin.

As it bathes you, it also bathes him. Completely dressed, Soshiro gets drenched in the same water as you. And, as his hair becomes wet, one of his hands moves it out of his face, revealing his façade completely.

Your arms hang from his shoulders into his back. Your knees, fight to keep you standing up even if the one actually holding you up is no other than him.

Soshiro is completely mute, and so do you. There is, maybe, no need to speak.

He lets his jacket slide through his shoulders to finally fall into the shower’s floor. The compressive shirt underneath gets also wet, becoming something like a second skin of him. Showing off the hours of training, and why he is the vice-captain of your division.

Immorally, you that were on the brink of death a couple of minutes ago, now feel in heaven because of your saviour. Because of your blades wielding hero.

Once again, he was able to save a life with those thinly cut masses of iron.

His hand, with soft but still steady pace, clean something off your back. And for that your breasts are pressed against his chest. You can see his neck from the side, as he tries to take a deeper look at your shoulder blades. You inhale the scent of his skin, a mix of sweat from the last battle and manly hints of fresh perfume.

“You got them almost engraved on your skin. What the fuck? The suits aren’t supposed to hurt you this way” he whispers, close to your ear. “We should go to the medical pavilion, now” he adds.

You nod, feeling how everything has started to spin around you and your stamina decreases more and more.

“Thank you, Soshi- Hoshina fuku Taichou…” you babble, realizing your faces are closer that what they should ever be and your arms and his are interlocked pretty strongly to the other’s body.

He takes a deep breath through his tiny nose, looking at you with lazy eyes. Just a tiny line of red is visible, as tiny as the opening of his lips that let prominent fangs barely flash.

Soshiro’s chest goes up and down, harder every time. His muscles tense more and more, especially the ones on his neck. His hug gets even tighter, pulling you so closer that ever before.

“It’s… ok…” he barely words; something is affecting that man… and it’s probably all your body, all your still warm skin being his for at least a couple of minutes, the way your lips have become red and pouty, your sloppy eyes and the warmth of your breath closer to his mouth.

“What happened!!??” “Vice-captain?!” “are you two allr-“ the girls scream in terror. Probably, once they were out of the showers they faced the dantesque scenery of blades lying on the ground and a anti kaiju suit completely destroyed and fuming scattered all over the floor.

Within seconds, not only the officers of squad 3 have reached the place but also the men. Some of them, thinking not the worst… but probably that Hoshina fuku Taichou and you have finally caved in for lust.

With a fast reaction, Soshiro grabs the coat of his own uniform to cover you up. And with a much more severe tone ever heard, he orders Kikoru to call Mina and Okomi and let them know he is taking a badly injured officer to the medical pavilion. As for the rest, a scary deadly look over his shoulder was enough to make them run away from the place allowing him to pass.

You, however, couldn’t quite experience such happenings, as your consciousness had fade away right before your comrades arrived.

A soft white light shines in between your shut eyes; the sound of unknown solitude reaches your ears as well as the synchronic beep of your heart reflected on a machine.

“What-“ you mumble, regaining consciousness. Your body feels cold, and you are thankful for that. Your limbs are heavy, but you can move them. Your lips and mouth are dry, but you smile as you remember vague flashes of Soshiro and you under the shower.

You finally open your eyes to discover you are indeed at some kind of medical facility, soon remembering this is the place you all come when you are severely injured after battle.

Everything on your body seems to be on its place, and for that you breathe alleviated. Thankful to your hero, you wonder how to thank him when you are out of here… or maybe, you just plan to leave the squad as he has seen you completely naked.

“I didn’t know you were awake already” a well-known voice scares you away. You try to stand up, but his hand stops you from doing so. “I couldn’t sleep, I was worried for you” he says, with that sweet funny tone he often uses to communicate.

There is, as far as you could see, anyone around but you and him. Soshiro, who apparently couldn’t sleep, has come to see you.

Your cheeks burn, and it’s not because of a defective suit now. It is because, you are deeply embarrassed, and still, something inside you is jumping with genuine happiness to see him here.

“I’m ok, Sir. But.. you didn’t have to come! I’m deeply thankful for you saving my life, and I promise you I will replace the uniform you got all wet” you say, trying to look away from him who has came closer to your bed.

Soshiro bursts out laughing, the way he only knows how to. He grabs his stomach, and soon flashes of the way those abs looked with wet fabric sticked to them, makes you shiver.

“You- you should worry for your own suit! Not mine!” he continues laughing while, little by little, he ends up sitting right on the bed. “By the way, you know why your suit almost killed you?” he asks.

You swallow. What- why is he sitting next to you?

You shake your head in denial, out of words, because you couldn’t think of a reason for such big flaw on that impressive technological miracle.

Soshiro, who is well known for being at least a little bit irreverent -and that’s exactly what you love the most about him-, gets himself comfortable next to you. He lies back, as you move to the side to make him some space.

Now, the scent of his skin is clean and delicious -even more than earlier-. And you can smell it, because there isn’t much room to be separated on a single bed.

“Well… you had a piece of Kaiju tooth stuck on your lower back. Therefore, the suit either processed it as a threat or… it reacted with the pieces of kaiju within it. In any case, you will be given a new one in a couple of days” he tells you, with his right arm stuck underneath the back of his head.

His bicep, perfectly moulded to be strong, but still lightweight to be as agile as possible, protrudes with the hem of the compression shirt around it. Does he really know how sexy he looks? Or he is absolutely unaware of the effects he has?

“Oh…” you sigh. You take it as a personal failure; how were you not able to see it? “Don’t worry, this incident helped them to investigate further security measures… however, isn’t your back hurting?” he asks, this time turning to you.

You deny, again, without any words coming from your mouth. But there isn’t much you could do, when Soshiro turns you around so that your back faces him.

“You do, in fact, have a big bruise. I should report this, too” he comments, as his soft index travels down your spine, to the small of your back.

Your eyes, opened big enough to look like moons, have stopped seeing all around and all you can think of is the proximity of that man to you.

“You good?” he murmurs, ignorant of everything happening to your body. “Ye-yes, vice-captain. I wanna thank you for taking care of us the way you do; hadn’t been for you, I’d be dead by now…” you pull those words from who knows where, even if your muscles seem paralyzed from his touch. Your speech sounds like those you give when you follow commands during battle.

He laughs; this time softer and sweeter. You can feel his body coming closer, enough to feel the tip of his nose grazing your neck.

“We should have each other’s backs in here, or else… but most importantly, being told my blades will not be useful to fight and protect, you remind me once again that they indeed can” he whispers, making your skin shiver.

It’s clear that he wants you. And you want him, too. And you always knew, and he always knew. And all of them, too. Why, just now, on a place where you should be monitored, there were nobody around if not?

“Can I rest here for a minute?” he asks, as his forehead lands on your nape. “All the time you want, Vice-captain” you answer back, smiling softly.

You slowly relax, as his hand slides in the most delicate way towards your belly to hug you. Your hand, also delicate, fall on top of his, confirming how much you would love for him to touch you like this forever.

“Call me Soshiro when we are like this, ok?” he murmurs, planting the first kiss right on your shoulder.

You turn around, slowly. Even if you would love to stay the way you were, you can’t stop yourself from wanting to see his face.

“Soshiro…” you whisper, coming closer to his lips. “That’s better…” he smiles, kindly.

And one kiss, and then another came by… and thankfully, that night, there were no more Kaiju around.

#kaiju no 8 #kaiju no. 8 #kaiju no 8 x reader #kaiju no. 8 fluff #kaiju no. 8 smut #soshiro hoshina #soshiro hoshina x reader #hoshina soushirou #hoshina soshirou x reader

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tonixe · 2 months

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hii i love ur writing and the k you for the noir fic!! there’s not enough content for the boys and i appreciate it so much!! can i request jealous homelander x reader? tyia!

♱ — rapacious — ♱

A/N: I was itching, with no craving to make a homelander fic, and ideas just ran through me, but thank you anon for requesting this, and letting my devious idea run free. P.S. Im not sure bout that black noir fic, this was asked in July, but yk thank you for still requesting <3. Btw H/N is hero name.

WARNING: oral sex, p in the v, no condom we fuck raw, creampies, non-con, tw: homelander, gagging, cursing, non-con, threats, forced breeding and nudity.

PAIRING: jealous! homelander x reader

WORD COUNTER: 2.1k

Life with Homelander was great, something so great that it makes you go insane, crazy...good crazy may be bad for some, but you could take it, right?

Vought, was another thing, watching over your shoulder and making sure everything went well, I mean with you there were a lot fewer casualties than usual. Soon things got less complicated with Edgar and Madelyn being gone from Vought, basically Homelander leading the company with Ashley as a puppet.

It was chaotic per se, where Homelander's watching eye was everywhere in the building. His leadership didn't make anything better but worse. With the seven keeping on being replaced and disappearing mysteriously, surprisingly you were still there with the same everything, no new rebrand, no nothing just staying in place.

You didn't mind it at all, I mean you still had a job and were still getting paid. Even with the weird shift of Black noir, instead of his quiet demeanor, he was talkative which was a change. It was evident it wasn't noir and everyone in the seven knew it, but nobody questioned it. You didn't mind but preferred the change, and even started talking to him.

He was a little better than old noir, not in combat but in being amusing, even spending time with outside meetings and regular superhero activities.

"So how the fuck did you manage to even fly like that?" You asked while you walked with him down the hallway,

"I have no idea, it just happened?" Black Noir II shrugged, you nodded at his words as you took a sip of the peanut butter frappuccino from Vought's cafe, it was a plus that he wasn't allergic to peanuts like the old noir. It wasn't a glow-up from the old noir but a plus. You two chatted as you got into the elevator, it was abruptly stopped by a red, white, and blue cape fluttering into wedging between you both, making you step back, it was Homelander.

The atmosphere immediately got tense than it was once a carefree mood, it was quiet.

"Good morning Homelander," you said, it was met with a nod from him, "Morning Sir," Black Noir said to him, only for him to glare at him, "Don't fucking talk" Homelander ordered, clearly annoyed that he was talking.

It was suffocating being in the elevator, you just took a sip of your frappuccino, praying for the elevator to open up quickly.

Guess your answers were answered rather quickly, as the doors of the huge elevator opened to the meeting room, the giant seven table in front of you.

The Deep, Sage, Firecracker, and A-train were already in their seats. "Good morning sir" The deep stood up, saluting him which made you laugh a little. You immediately took your seat next to Firecracker, and the meeting started. It was a blur to you, something like finding the leak in Vought, which you had many questions about.

The whole meeting was led by a different Sage, your eyes flicked towards Homelander, he was staring at Black Noir. You averted your eyes away,

God, you have to pay attention more often.

You couldn't help but take a sip of peanut butter frappuccino, "Would you fucking stop" Homelander's voice interrupted Sage's presentation, all attention was at him and he was staring directly at you.

"Um...Sorry" You hesitating looked back at him, and you felt eyes on you. You couldn't help but your heart to beat faster,

You watched Homelander rubbed his head in annoyance, closing his eyes before staring to you, "Could you slurp any louder?" He said, his voice dripping with annoyance and sarcasm.

"Sorry" You muttered, putting it back where it was,

"No..nope" Homelander repeated, he pointed at you again, "Be a good girl and put it in the garbage" He snapped. You looked around, with everyone staring at you, "Okay" you responded, slowly getting up from your chair, taking the cup in your hand, and throwing it in the garbage before sitting down.

"Good"

With that statement, the meeting continued on, with your face heating up in embarrassment, as you sank further into the chair.

Sage's voice engulfing your thoughts,

You got interrupted by a note being thrown at you, it was obvious it was from Noir that somehow got to you without Homelander looking, you grinned a little bit, secretly opening up the crumbled piece of paper.

[I'll buy you a new drink after the meeting] - Noir

You read the note, before turning your attention to him and smiling, quickly putting the note in the pocket of your suit before Homelander can see it. Combing your hair back and leaning back into your chair.

Soon the meeting ended, getting up from your seat, and everyone else was doing the same, yours scanned and the room soon landing on Firecracker still in her seat. But you didn't care much to ask why, but more excited to hang out with Noir after this awkward meeting.

"Everyone can go expect H/N" You heard Homelander's voice mentioning your name made you freeze. You stopped where you were, "You can go Firecracker" Homelander turned to her,

"But..um Homelander sir—"

"You can go," Homelander said again but in a more threatening tone, "Now" After he said she scrambled out of the meeting room.

Soon it was only you two left in the room, you watched hesitantly as Homelander turned to you. "Y/N, we need to talk," Homelander states, you could hear his voice straining, with concealed anger.

You looked up at him confused, "About..what?" You asked.

You watched as he walked around you, his pace was slow, you listened to his footsteps echoing around the empty meeting room, before he stopped suddenly, " Do you think I'm just stupid?" Homelander said, his tone catching you off guard.

It wasn't confusing that Homelander was speaking to you in anger, you rarely got him angry knowing you both were together and your relationship wasn't publicized due to his status.

"No, definitely not John," You replied, using his name instead of his hero alias, made him freeze before he stared at you.

Jealously was gnawing inside of him when he looked at you, "Tell me...are you fucking him" Homelander snapped at you, your brows knitted together in confusion at his words. "No, we're just hanging out—why would you ever think that?" You stuttered over your words, as Homelander walked closer to you.

He reached out for your face, harshly grabbing your chin with his hand, tilting your face to meet his eyes. You felt his glove hand digging into your face, his eyes closely turning red, you just felt fear, you were terrified. You knew he could smell your fear, and hear your rising heartbeat. "John...I would never cheat on you, I'm yours" You entreated, trembling under his grip.

Finally, his grip got looser and then he dropped your face, making you stumble a bit.

"Then show me," Homelander said,

You were confused about his words, "What?"

"If you love me..show me" Homelander sat down in the seat in front of you. It took you some time to process his words, confused at what he was saying, "Come on, strip for me" signaling towards your chest.

Your brows furrowing, "Come on, if you don't do it" Homelander leaned in his seat, "You won't like it if I do it" He finished,

"Now strip" He repeated, his tone more irritated.

You took a breath in and started undressing. Unzipping your suit, feeling the cool air on your bare skin. Your suit falling on the marble floor echoed through the room, leaving you in your bra and panties.

"Bra and panties too" Homelander eyed your chest.

You comply, putting your hand behind you and clipping your bra off, discarding it on the floor, and stepping out of your panties, leaving you fully naked in front of him.

"Come here" He patted his lap, "Crawl" he pointed at you. You sank down to your knees and crawled towards him and stopped in front of him. "Come on, you know what to do" You felt his hand on your cheek, stroking it.

You looked down at his growing member in his pants. Hesitatingly looking up at him through your lashes, as you started to undo the bottom of his suit revealing his cock, you looked up at him, "Use your mouth" You leaned in and inched his cock into your mouth, before taking him whole. Homelander moans out feeling your warm mouth enveloping his cock, feeling his hand gripping your hair making you wince.

You slowly bob your head down on his length, his grip on you getting tighter. Your ears perched up at his straining voice barely containing his whimpers as he watched you intently, taking him whole. "Fuck, your good at this" Homelander groaned, jerking you away, taking his cock out from your mouth. Staring at your disheveling appearance, spit dribbling on your chin.

His hand still fisting your hair, "Your pretty when your like this" Homelander chuckled, before forcing you down his cock, making you gagged. Tears prick on your waterline, saliva staining your chin, his grip never loosening as he abused your throat, thrusting into your mouth, the sound of slick, the sounds of wet suction filling up the room.

His pace turning frantic, fucking your mouth.

Homelander threw his head back as waves of ecstasy washed over him. His hips buckled uncontrollably as he lets out a guttural groan, filling your mouth with his cum. "Fuck, ..." He pants, chest heaving, before he gripped your face, "Be a good girl and swallow it" He threatens, feeling the hot liquid going down your throat, swallowing it.

His grip loosening and releasing you. You panted for air, feeling his gloved-hand stroking your cheek. "Now, stand and lean over at table" Homelander ordered, as you got up from the floor and obeyed his order, propping yourself on the table, and bending yourself over the glass. You couldn't help but to feel excited for the pain, the slick dripping down your legs. You waited in anticipation,

Before feeling his cock stretching you out, biting down at your lip at the simmering pain, arching your back. His hands on back of your waist, "Fuck" you mumbled, gripping the end of the glass. Before he thrusting into you, "You think Noir would please you like I do" Homelander growled into your ear, his breath warm on your skin "N...no" you mumbled, feeling his cock tearing you open, feeling himself stretching your cervix.

His ministration was more painful next than the next, feeling his cock stabbing you over and over again. The sounds of flesh slapping filled the room, letting out a gasp, your voice wavering in pain. His thrust driving deeper into you, clenching down on his cock, feeling his grip digging into your skin.

You hated how you were slowly enjoying this, feeling yourself coming close to your climax. Your body tensing up as you feel your skin warming up,

His hips stuttering against yours, "Fuck, I'm close" You felt his hands stroking your hips, "What if I just cummed inside you, breed you myself, have my kids, and have a family...then ill have you to myself" He whispered,

You felt your heart in your throat, "Pull out" You tried to get away from stone grip, "Homelander, please" You begged, only for your face to be shove down on the glass table. Scrambling underneath his grip, just to get him off you. "please" you cried.

His pace getting frantic until he thrust into you for the last time, feeling on cue your body shuddering as he came into you. Feeling himself spilling inside you, making you freeze on the spot.

Feeling him finally pulling out of you, leaving you there stunned. He kissed your shoulder, the kiss feeling lingering on you.

You heard the sound of him putting his pants back on. He stared at you before walking towards you, before sighing, you turned your head to him, "I forgive you, you know" He said, his hand behind his back watching your pitiful form,

"Just don't do it again" he pats your head,

"Now get dressed, we have a date" He smiles, listening to his footsteps descending from you.

#homelander x fem!reader #homelander the boys #homelander x you #the homelander #homelander imagine #homelander x reader #homelander #the boys season 4 #the boys s4 #the boys tv #the boys amazon #the boys prime #homelander x y/n #homelander x oc #the boys fanfic #the boys series #the boys #black noir #firecracker

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blughxreader · 1 year

Text

... "Re-connection Session" ...

A/B/O Platonic Yandere! Dick Grayson & Jason Todd x f! Reader

You never should have let Damian sleep in your lap, especially after rejecting Dick and Jason's request for attention. Now you have their jealousy to resolve. ... Dick and Jason are alphas and you are an omega. People can purr in this AU. ... TW: Blurred lines between family and intimacy, post-kidnap, non-consensual touching, forced proximity, being forced to undress, non-sexual nudity, traditional secondary gender roles

You stared at yourself in the bathroom mirror in silent dread.

Dick's old shirt hung low on your frame, the neckline falling past your collarbones and the hem dropping to your fingertips. The sleeves, thankfully, covered you to your elbows, but the desired effect was the same: easy access to your body.

This, accompanied by your underwear and Jason's basketball shorts were all you were allowed to wear.

Fear sat in your stomach line a rock. You were sure you were releasing enough panic pheromones to alert the whole house, but there was no frantic knocking to save you. Just you, your pounding heart, and the two men on the other side of the door.

Wiping your sweaty hands down your pants, you gave yourself one last look before leaving the bathroom. Dick's bedroom spread out before you, filled with old memorabilia and a large, plush bed in the center.

Dick and Jason were leaning against the wall in wait, arms crossed and heads tilted back. Dick grinned when he saw you.

"Alright, good," he said, slinging an arm over your shoulder. "It's a little late for an afternoon nap, so movie time?"

Dick's scent clung to you like a cologne, sweet and tangy. An alpha's smell was already stronger to omegas, but being wrapped in his shirt and pressed into his side was almost overwhelming. Jason, whose scent was more earthy and metallic, was a small reprieve.

Jason looked you up and down, appraising your posture and expression. You knew it was useless to try to hide your feelings, but you couldn't fight the urge to look away. You crossed your arms to cover yourself.

He reached over and ran a hand over your temple, brushing back stray curls. Jason, while never the most emotive on a day-to-day basis, had a cloudy expression today. His gaze bore into you, drinking up every micro-expression you tried to hide and cataloguing each one.

"No trash TV," Jason finally said. He dropped his hand and fell into stride with you and Dick, who was guiding you to his bed.

Dick dipped his head down so his cheek brushed your forehead. "What do you want to watch?"

"Anything is fine."

"Nope, that's not allowed," Dick lightly scolded. "This weekend's all about getting familiar. You need to learn how to go along with the family."

Your mind blanked as you scrambled to remember any move you've ever seen before. Embarrassment pricked your cheeks. "Maybe Pixar..."

Dick stopped you at the edge of the bed. He ruffled the back of Jason's hair before slapping his back, earning his hand a hard swat.

"You first, little wing."

Jason rolled his eyes and climbed on the bed, flopping into place on the silk covers. Dick ushered you on next with gentle hands, not giving you an inch of space as he followed suit.

You were settled into Jason's side, your front pressing into the long expanse of his body. Jason shifted and pulled off his shirt with one hand, tossing it off the bed before leaning back into you.

Your insides lurched at his naked chest, and you were boneless when he guided your head to rest on his shoulder. Jason's body was warm and sturdy. He eclipsed you in ways that made your heart flutter.

You tighten your arms around your chest to keep these stray feelings at bay.

Dick settled behind you with a happy sigh, shirtless as well. He weaseled your arm out of your hold and settled it over Jason's chest to maximize contact, then rested his hand on your waist.

His breath fanned the back of your head when he whispered, "I'm going to lift your shirt up now."

You held back a whimper when his hand slid beneath your shirt, trailing up your stomach to settle between your ribs. His palm spread flat, fingers reaching the better half of your stomach. He was dangerously close to brushing your breasts, but remained careful not to stray too far up.

Jason's hand trailed in next, gliding over your hip and up your spine, where it settled between your shoulder blades. His thumb brushed up and down in slow, even strokes.

They were everywhere. Their arms lay flushed against your body, touching as much skin as they possibly could, while their stomachs pressed into yours where your shirt had slid up. Their nudged your legs until you were tangled in theirs.

As hard as you tried to fight it, it was instinctual for pack members to seek physical contact. Touch was one of the most primal and easiest ways to show affection and community, so you knew that your days of solitude were numbered.

But this...

Tingles spread through your whole body, exacerbated by how touch-starved you were. The feeling of oneness, of unbridled intimacy with your family, sank deep into your heart.

Resist, resist, resist. You're stronger than these urges.

Your breathing accelerated. You knew what to expect going into this, but nothing could have prepared you for how emotionally penetrating it was. It was as if your very nature and mind were at war.

A steady purr rumbled in their chests as they basked in your company, soaking in as much of your warmth as they could. Jason's nose brushed your forehead, placing feather light kisses where he could reach. Dick was crooning.

Cold sweat prickled your skin.

Your hand tightened around Jason's back as claustrophobia set in. The purring turned to a low rumble and the pheromones in the air turned sour.

"Hey," Jason said softly. "You have to settle down."

You swallowed thickly to abate your fear. "You guys got defensive."

Dick nudged his nose on your neck, right above your scent glands. "Because you started smelling scared."

Oh.

You inhale shakily to calm your nerves. Jason hummed in your ear, a low, pleased sound.

"Good girl," he said. "Keep doing that. We have you."

You sucked in a sharp breath in defiance. Jason humphed. Dick laughed against your skin and squeezed your stomach playfully, grinning as he said, "You're as bad as Damian."

They nestled you tighter between them, purrs rumbling anew. Amidst the panic in your chest stirred another feeling. Maybe it's because you're getting drunk on an alpha's attention, but you felt a childish need to complain.

"How long will this take?" You asked, shifting uncomfortably between their sandwiched bodies.

Jason's face tightened around his eyes. "As long as it takes."

"For what?" you asked, frustration bubbling up your throat. "I've more than made up for turning you down yesterday."

"You need to want our touch," Dick said. He hesitated, mulling over if he should continue, then went on. "I think that if you let your guard down for a second and trusted your instincts, you would understand how much you need this."

"My guard is down. I'm completely defenseless," you hissed.

"Not what he was talking about. And that's what I'm not understanding, either," Jason said, frowning. "You're confused. You're completely out of touch with yourself."

The silence was heavy. They were waiting for you to speak, but you didn't trust anything that would come out of your mouth. You let the silence stretch on.

Jason's grimace deepened. "Are you having trouble being an omega because you were never taught how to be one?"

You scoffed, scandalized. Your frustration sparked into flames. "Because I don't know my place in an alpha's narrative?"

"No," Jason said defensively. "Because you don't know how to purr."

You couldn't respond.

You hadn't purred in years because there was no reason to. You weren't young, haven't dated in ages, didn't have any kids, and you definitely weren't about to purr for the Bats.

"I haven't heard you croon either. Or even ask to be held," Dick mumbled in thought.

Heat crept up your neck. They were wading in embarrassing waters now. You weren't a loser, just a little lonely—that's the only reason you stopped doing omegean things. And being their captive was a good enough reason to withhold everything.

These thoughts were enough when you were alone, but the shame creeping up your chest was startling.

Jason's hand drifted to your face, fingers sliding gently over your cheek. He used a knuckle to brush the tears from your eyelashes.

"It's okay to face these scary feelings," Jason whispered, face mere inches away. He looked at you with sad, loving eyes, while his scent was a whirlwind of conflicting emotion. Hope. Pity. Anger. Love.

Dick kissed the shell of your ear, thumb gliding over your skin where his hand rested. A soft rumble drifted from his chest. He said, "You're safe with us. It'll come naturally if you just let it."

The crux was that you didn't want to try. You wanted to withhold every valuable part of yourself from them and to make them pay for ruining your life.

But at the same time, you yearned to have a family. There was a vital part in your heart that was missing, one that could only be filled by belonging and love. You didn't want to ignore your secondary gender but you didn't want to share it with them, either.

Don't whimper. Don't smell like you want help.

You clamped your jaw shut and squeezed your eyes closed. Their pheromones filled the air with comfort, home, want, and it took every ounce of willpower to ignore the alphas' scents.

Jason kissed your eyelid, cupping your head in his palm. His purring and crooning joined Dick's, and it nearly drowned out your heartbeat hammering in your ears.

---

You passed the night in a daze. They nudged you to try to croon or purr, washing you with their scents and physical contact, but their efforts didn't yield results. Outwardly, that is.

Inside, you were swimming with panic and haziness.

Skin-to-skin touching was starting to take a toll on you. In a stronger headspace, you could ignore the pleasant allure of touching them, but your boundaries and primal needs were beginning to blur.

They felt good. They felt safe. You wanted to cling to Jason's chest and sob in relief at finally being wanted. You wanted Dick to keep cooing and petting you like you were the most cherished thing in his life. Each kiss stoked a fire you were desperately trying to put out.

At the same time, your defiance was making them restless. Dick and Jason had begun to smell more potent and move more assertively. Omegas weren't meant to resist their alpha pack members, especially in a domestic setting.

Despite a tiring night of caressing and pleading, you didn't loosen your tight control on your emotions. Dick and Jason were still completely cut off from you, and you could tell they were thinking of ways to get you to fold.

Sunlight filtered through the blinds, accompanied by the muffled voices of Sunday morning cartoons. All of you were on Dick's bed and eating in silence.

The soup in your lap was one of Alfred's "sick soups." It was hardy and chock-full of vegetables and pork, and made especially to ease the tension in the room.

Their heavy gazes kept your head bowed as you tried to eat what little food you could.

Dick's bowl clinked as he set it on the floor.

"Submission isn't shameful," he said suddenly. "Is that what this is? You think it makes you less of a person?"

You look down into your soup, lips tightening. "No, I know it's fine... I would just prefer to keep things how they are."

"Why?" Dick said, scooting closer to you.

"It's my choice."

"No, why?" Frustration cut into Dick's voice. "I'm trying to work with you."

"Is bodily autonomy not a good enough reason?" You bit back. "I don't know, Dick. 'No' should be a good enough answer."

Jason's hand touched your back, making you lurch forward. Soup nearly spilled from your bowl, but Dick caught it in time. Jason sighed angrily while Dick set your food on the bedside table.

"This isn't normal," Jason said hotly. "Omegas shouldn't flinch at their caretakers, especially when they're treated as well as you are."

You gripped the bed sheets, guilt filtering in at the truth in his words. "Sorry," you said meekly.

Jason deflated slightly, then brought his hand back up. It settled on the nape of your neck, his large palm cupping the entire surface. Tingles rippled through your body and ignited goosebumps across your back.

Jason rested his head on yours, absently rubbing the scent pad in his cheek on your hair. He said, "Did something bad happen that made you afraid?"

"No," you said quickly. Aside from being kidnapped by them, that is.

Dick moved in closer. His voice was soft. "Then why?"

"I just..." You brought your knees up to your chest and covered your eyes with a palm. "This domesticity just isn't for me."

"You need to practice," Dick reiterated. "Maybe we can give you a simple command and you follow it? So you'll get used to how it feels?"

You peek between your fingers to glare at him.

"No, really. I read some omegean blogs that said yielding to your alpha's orders feels really good." Dick looked between you and Jason hopefully. "Or we can read some articles by older omegas so you know how to handle your feelings?"

You held back a sharp comment about where he can shove those articles. Instead you said, "Only people with religious agendas write those things."

Jason looked like he agreed, but he didn't take your side.

"We can't do nothing," Jason said, eyes flitting up to Dick.

Dick sucked the inside of his cheek. "And she's unresponsive to positive reinforcement and suggestions."

Fear brewed in your gut. "What are you implying?"

Dick touched your knee, drawing your attention to his face. "You need to purr. Or present submissive pheromones. It'll break the dam so everything comes out easier."

A blush swept up your face and you jerked your knee away from him. "You can't just ask that. No. My answer is no."

Dick's gaze returned to Jason's. Dick frowned, then quirked a brow. "People purr to self-sooth, too."

You tensed. "Dick. Stop."

Jason hesitated, face pinching at the fear in your scent. "What do you suggest?"

"Full body contact and commands. It'll overwhelm her, so she'll self-sooth then default to the natural order."

"Jason." Your voice was high and sharp. "Make him stop. This is wrong."

"Jay," Dick said, looking every bit as sincere as he sounded. "I know you're apprehensive, but she won't come to this conclusion herself. She needs to be guided in a controlled environment."

Jason's face screwed up in worry. "It's traumatic."

"Temporarily. She'll be in our care the whole time," Dick reassured him. "It'll be over the moment she submits."

"Please, Jason, no!" You pushed your face into Jason's chest, clinging to his chest. Tears poured down your face as you shook. "I'm sorry, I'll try harder. Whatever this is, don't do it."

Jason's jaw set, the muscles in his neck flexing. "Then purr."

"What?"

"I'm giving you a way out. You have to trigger your primal state and ask for our care. It's not something you can do manually, so start by purring."

"I..." Your breath caught in your lungs. You were too scared to purr, much less seek their comfort for anything.

You swallowed hard and coughed weakly, trying to activate your secondary vocal cords.

Several moments of silence passed before a small huff of a rumble left your throat. It sounded pathetic to your own ears, probably more-so to theirs, and your throat constricted from embarrassment.

"Forcing me won't make me want to... do that," you said weakly, breath hitching from your tears. "Isn't there another way?"

Dick sighed deeply. "Thanks for trying."

He leaned in and kissed your neck, rubbing his hand in comforting circles on your back. You tilted your head to the side to give him better access, still shaking against Jason's chest. Dick smiled softly and kissed your neck again before drawing back.

"Jason," Dick said, "hold her feet down."

Jason's hands clamped around your legs before you could register Dick's words. Your world tilted and you were on your back before you could shout.

"No! Please!" You thrashed against his hold when Dick descended on you.

Dick put a hand on your chest to keep you down, then pinned you with his knee. Your hands clawed everywhere you could reach, but they paid no mind.

"You're fine. You're wearing underwear, right?" Dick asked. His finger hooked on your waistband, pulling it up to confirm. "Yeah. Look, just focus on breathing."

"No! No!" you shrieked as your pants slipped down your thighs.

Jason kept you from kicking, although it probably wouldn't matter either way. Their bodies were hardened from years of vigilante work and they moved together like a machine.

They unhooked your pants from your ankles and dropped it off the bed. You tried to curl into a ball, but their weight on your body kept you immobile.

You begged again, reaching out to Jason for help. His face was twisted in pain but he made no move to stop it. The comforting scent he pushed out did nothing to quell your panic.

Dick hushed you gently, face pleasant and movements slow, and reached for your shirt.

"I'm not wearing a bra!" you shouted hysterically, trying fruitlessly to push his knee off your chest.

Dick looked down at you patiently. "Then slip your arms in your shirt and cover yourself."

You stared up at him with wide eyes. Was he really, really about to do this? Trigger you so it activates your omegean instincts?

When he grabbed the edge of your shirt, your heart jumped up your throat. You wrangled your arms inside your sleeves and covered your breasts as well as you could.

Dick took his knee off your chest and dragged the shirt up over your body. It slid off with ease, leaving you in only your underwear.

You sobbed loudly.

Jason scooped you into his arms and pulled you up the bed. He settled you on a soft pillow, nuzzling his cheek against yours in silent apology.

You immediately curled into a ball when their hands left you. To your horror you saw them strip off their pants as well, leaving them in only their boxers.

"God, stop," you plead, voice breaking.

"It's okay," Dick whispered as he slid into place in front of you. "We do this all the time. It's important."

Perhaps he was referring to the after-workout cuddle piles, but even those had longer pants and chest coverage for girls.

The heat from their bodies sank into your flesh and disrupted your frantic thinking. Your alphas—no, Dick and Jason, you corrected—held you like you were sacred. It was a feeling of your deepest daydreams come true, to have a pack that was so open about their care for you.

If only they hadn't kidnapped you.

The compulsion to accept their love dug deep in your mind, and you found it harder and harder to remember the reasons why you shouldn't. Your anger began to seem trivial compared to the safety and adoration they promised.

Tears fell down your cheeks again, and you clung to Dick's chest to anchor yourself. He laid several kisses on the crown of your head.

"I'm going to give you some orders, okay?" Dick said. "You'll be compelled to follow them."

"I don't want to," you croaked.

"That time has passed," Jason mumbled, stroking your arm with his thumb.

Dick cleared his throat, and your blood ran cold in anticipation.

"Hold Jason's hand." Dick's alpha voice struck you like a cannon.

The command wound around every corner of your mind. It strangled your freewill in a vice hold, suffocating any lingering thoughts of freedom until all that was left was them.

An alpha's command wasn't absolute, but it was damn near close.

Your insides rattle with a urge to hurry, hurry and complete alpha's orders. Make Brother happy.

Cold sweat spread across your back, making you feel sickly and sticky. Your eyesight narrowed to Dick's chest as you fought off the intrusive thoughts, not noticing anything but your vision blackening around the edges.

Please, no no no no no.

Jason's hand hovered next to yours, making it easy for you to obey.

"I... I c-c..." you stuttered.

Follow, follow, follow, your mind screamed at you. Brother will be disappointed.

You clung to Dick's bicep and screwed your eyes shut. A disapproving growl bubbled in Dick's throat.

"Take it," Dick ordered, grabbing your wrist and holding it above Jason's hand. "It's for your own good, so take it."

Jason bumped his head into yours and pushed you towards Dick's neck. You tried to squirm away, but their bodies kept you immobile, leaving your only option to settle your nose into Dick's neck and breathe.

The smell was intoxicating. It was impossible to fight off—his warm and strong scent flooding your head and making your mind melt.

Without you realizing, a broken whine left your throat. Dick and Jason reacted instantly. They hugged you tighter, shushing you and peppering kisses wherever they could reach.

Their scent changed too. Frustration was pushed out by love, comfort, love, and it smothered your senses. You whimpered, your whole body shuttering from your tears.

Fuck, you wanted your alphas so badly. Your brother's comfort enveloped you and left nothing else to do but welcome it.

Your guilt and doubt multiplied at rapid speed. Maybe you were wrong for rejecting this. Being close and following their orders felt as good as Dick had said, so maybe they were right about other things, too.

"She's defaulting" Jason said, words fast and nervous.

You whined again, broken and airy and filled with all the conflicting misery you felt. Your sense of self slipped between your fingers like water, making room for the person they wanted you to become—who you were commanded to become.

The heat of their bodies made your world spin. Their loving touches make your mind blank.

Dick shushed you and cooed comforting words, and the resilient voice in your head silenced.

Oh god, they felt like your soulmates. This seemed predestined, like you were born to be in their family.

Your exposed bodies pressing together destroyed the illusion of self, giving way to their truest law: you were theirs, body and soul.

"One more time," Dick muttered. His voice deepened to say, "Hold Jason's hand."

You moved without thinking. Your fingers tangled into Jason's, your palm laying flat over his hand.

Relief bloomed in your chest, as if a tremendous weight had been lifted. The compulsion was replaced by deep satisfaction, one you found yourself craving again.

You listened and did good. Brothers are happy. You are loved.

Dick's grin was radiant. Tears sprung in his eyes as emotions overtook him, making his blue irises shine like gems. Quiet sniffles came from behind you, and by the jerkiness in Jason's body, you knew he was crying.

"Good girl," Dick praised, voice watery. "My baby."

Jason's nose pressed into your neck, taking shaky breaths of your scent. It calmed him slightly, yet his voice was still uneven. "She's feeling better. Do another one, Dick."

"Kiss me," Dick ordered.

Your lips pressed against his shoulder, and again on his collarbone. Dick laughed and sniffled, unintelligible croons tumbling from his mouth.

Your mind was a haze, unable to process anything but the two alphas around you. Your brothers were here and you were safe. How had you lived without this love for so long?

It was like an avalanche of pent-up emotions poured into your body. You were relieved to be free, angry at the pain you inflicted on yourself, and so, so happy to belong to Dick and Jason.

"I love you," Jason muttered into your hair.

Dick kissed your face, cupping your cheek and brushing his thumb over your skin. "I love you so much."

Your inner omega melted.

Love, love, love. Their scent consumed you.

You felt defined by their love, and felt like you would be nothing outside of it.

---

Dick's head was light from glee. "Did you see her stumble out of bed? She was still riding that high."

Jason didn't respond. He sat at the edge of Dick's bed while the aforementioned brother paced around his room.

Dick was too worked up to wait for a response.

"I bet it'll only take a week or two before she seeks the pack out. The attention's like a drug, you know. " Dick waved a hand. "I forgot the chemical. Whatever. But she definitely can't go back to being detached."

Jason's stomach squeezed at Dick's prideful smile.

"I feel slimy," Jason said, gripping his hands together tightly.

Dick abruptly stopped. "What?"

Jason didn't respond. He stared up at Dick with a grim look.

Several expressions passed Dick's face before he said, "That's all you took away from this?"

"I've written papers about why overpowering omegas is outdated and wrong."

"Yeah? I agreed too until we had a hurting omega in our care," Dick said. "Besides, if you feel like that then why didn't you say anything?"

Jason's jaw muscles tightened. "I said using an alpha's command was shitty, not unnecessary."

"It was beautiful, Jason," Dick hissed, temper flaring. "And she'll be happier because of it."

Dick stormed out, his good mood evaporated. The door slammed behind him, and Jason waited until he couldn't hear Dick's stomping before heaving a long sigh.

Jason hoped you wouldn't be too upset once you accepted their care. He made a vow to keep you safe and happy, and he would fulfill that promise even if you hated him for it.

Still, it hurt.

Jason's eyes drifted back to Dick's bed, to the spot where you had been lying. He crawled over and laid down, pushing his face into the sheets, and inhaled your fading scent.

---

For more yandere batfam, visit my masterlist!

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bloodywankers · 3 months

Text

tw. yandere, forced pregnancy, mentions of nudity, toxic relationships, implied murder, not proofread (pls tell me if you see any typos), 1.4k words

You knew your husband wasn’t normal. You weren’t a fool, the avoiding gazes of people around you, the nervous stutter of every waiter and service person that approached you, the hesitance of new aquintaces when they had to shake hands with you, all of it under his watchful gaze. It was hard to ignore.

If you had to put a finger on when it started, you’d blame that one time years ago, when you were both still young, much younger than you are now at least. When you complained about that one classmate that always got too handsy, about his annoying jokes and obnoxious personality, all under the guise of “a joke” as tasteless as it might have been. You knew he wasn’t fully okay in the head, even back then. It was by no mistake that you found yourself complaining to him of all people, sure he was a bit more reserved than now, a bit more hesitant at the thought of potentially committing a crime but all it took was a fluttering your eyes at him a few times and he offered himself up for you, he had never been the smartest of the buch after all.

When you heard news that the classmate had apparently dropped out and been seen with injuries beyond what any sane person would inflict, you knew who to blame. But you wouldn’t, maybe your underdeveloped prefrontal lobe couldn’t grasp the concept morality back then. But a guard dog that shows such loyalty couldn’t possibly deserve punishment. It was then when you cemented future by his side. He wasn’t all too bad, you thought, if you could avoid any and all contact with the opposite gender, even with women you could never make him feel unwanted. He was needy and big and scary but extremely gullible, at least when it came to you– as long as nothing sparked his jealousy, he was beyond reasoning if that were to happen.

There were times where you cursed at yourself for your past decisions, namely when you found small splatters of blood on his clothes that you assume were too small for him to notice, or when another person you had been unhappy with (but never voiced this in front of your husband) disappeared entiorely from your life. A dog that goes and bites all those that approach its master is no good at all.

Selfish and evil as you may have been, you were still human and the thought that your mere presence could ruin someones life took a toll on you so you started to retreat into your shell, to avoid going out as much as possible, much to your husbands pleasure who started coming home on time and didn’t drift off somewhere in the middle of the might anymore. Your relationship almost started showing a semblance of normalcy.

You had started feeling exhausted as of late, too tired despite your schedule full of nothing. It was strange, you started losing appetite and under a constant spell of lethargy, too tired to do anything beyond maybe brave the journey to the bathroom when necessary or to the kitchen if your husband wasn’t home to do it for you. Then started the cravings, so strange that you doubted even a pregnant woman would have them.

That’s what you thought, until night you managed to wake up just in time to see your husband rummahging through your drawer, the small sheet of what you could only make out to be your contraceptive pills in you hand and another one that looked eerily similar (that one wasn’t yours, you were sure of this since you were down to your last sheet).

You instinctively closed your eyes again before he could turn to you, waiting until morning when he was gone to work to check your drawing, only to find one sheet. It was then when things started to click, your period had been a few weeks late, you hadn’t been particularly alarmed since it happened sometimes but now you felt fear sink in as you rushed out in your car to the nearest pharmacy. The drive felt eons long when combined with the ever increasing feelings of dread that you were experiencing but you almost wished you could go back to that time as your clothes were tossed to one side and the bathroom door left slightly ajar, you were too rushed to have cared about those details as you stared at the two lines on the test.

‘No no no no no no no no no.’ You couldn’t think clear, you werent ready to be a mother, you didnt want children, there wasn’t a single motherly bone in your body.

You took back what you had said earlier, you were most definitely a fool. Why did you think he’d never do something like this when hes probably already done enough to secure his place in the 8th circle of hell just for you.

“Darling, I was looking for you-” Your husband said gleefully, pausing as he fully opened the bathroom door, finding you sat with a pregnancy test in hand, a few other ones already tossed around you, the unmistakeable positive already visible on them. And yet, as if he had no hand in this, he feiged ignorance, acted worried as he approached you.

“What’s happened here, what’re you doing, dear? Are you alright?” He kept asking these questions as he slowly neared you.

“Get away from me, don’t touch me!” You screamed, you were crying at this point and he was left at an arms length. That was when his entire demeanor changed, the almost idiotic smile of his nowhere to be seen as he let out a frustrated sigh.

“I suppose it was bound to happen sooner or later. If anything I’m surprised it took you this long, you’re quite the slow one aren’t you, love?” You probably would’ve launched the nearest object his way in any other situation but you couldn’t tell heads from tails in your current predicament.

“Why would you do this? Was what we had not enough for you?” You couldn’t help but ask in a moment of clarity.

“How coy, I wonder where this side of you was when you asked me to do all those terrible, terrible things.” His smile felt cruel, especially so when you realised that you were the dog if anything, he had always been the one to hold your leash, not the other way around.

“You dug your own grave, we couldn’ve had what most normal people have but you chose not to, you used me until your heart was fulfilled and in the process, you dug yourself deeper and deeper. The fact that you didn’t realise any sooner says more about you than me.” He finished, before hoisting you up, ignoring your cries as he removed what little you had on and placed you inside the bath. It had become a routine ever since you started feeling sick but today you couldn’t help but feel disgusted by his touch, alternating between sobs and protests as he cleaned, his grasp much harsher than usual, you weren’t sure if it was because he no longer had to uphold the persona he had you believing in up until today or because of your protests.

“Aren’t you curious, what you’ve been eating in place of your birth control lately?” He asked in the midst of washing your hair, the glint of excitement in his eyes only adding to the psychotic expression of his.

You couldn’t bear to ask, looking away in hoped that he would at least grant you this much. “Aww, I was hoping you’d want to, I’ll tell you ayway. It’s a sedative of sorts, I started with low dosages so you wouldn’t get alarmed. Don’t worry, it’s nothing strong enough to harm the baby.” The mention of the baby had your stomach twisting again. You felt exhausted from crying, letting him dress you, moving you around almost like a ragdoll until he plopped you on the bed, joining you soon after he showered and changed himself. Engulfing your smaller figure into a hug as he went on and on about the baby.

“I’ll get some books on parenting for you, we need to make sure our baby doesn’t turn out twisted and skewed like their mommy. Don’t you agree?”

#I should be studying lmao #very self indulgent #can’t wait to reread it just to learn that it’s incoherent rambling #yandere character #yandere x reader #oc #original character #yandere oc #yandere blog #yandere #yandere male #dark fic #yandere original character x reader #yandere scenario #dark romance #x reader #yandere oc x reader #yandere original character #scenario

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