#tw: implied violence

[obae-me]

hii, i hope you're having a good day. I love your writing and I was wondering if you could do the "bros being protective" with diavolo, barbatos, simeon and solomon.

The people have spoken! And I shall answer! Please accept this as a late holiday gift! We shall have more protective headcanons! I hope hope hope I did the datables justice!  

They’ll Always Protect You Too

TW: Mild Violence. More violence is implied. Threats. As Always, Read Safely!

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Diavolo

It was a miracle. Somehow, you and Diavolo managed to find a time where you could spend the day together. And by miracle, that means you assisted the prince into sneaking out of his own castle. Otherwise, you'd both never get to be out on your own. Sure, the ruler of the devildom could by all means order everyone to leave him alone, but the both of you knew that either Barbatos or Lucifer would find some way to keep an eye on him.

So, feeling like a rebellious teen in a cliché Coming-of-Age movie, Diavolo snuck out while Barbatos was distracted. He tried to disguise himself by wearing casual clothes, wearing a jacket with a hood over his head. Of course...it didn’t hide him all too well. There’s not many in the Devildom with his grand stature and booming voice. But one could hope...and pretend. 

He wanted this to be a normal day with no royally annoying responsibilities.

Of course, he hadn't really done anything like this before, so he didn't know quite what to do, so you suggested walking around. You could get something to eat, window shop, whatever you both wanted.

For a time, everything went swell. You both had a bite to eat, making sure no pickles were involved. You looked around shops, and while people were absolutely turning their head to make sure that they really did see the prince of their realm strolling down the street, no one said anything or bothered you two. 

That was till Diavolo got a call. He’d been found out, and from the sounds of it, a fretting Barbatos was on the other line. It’s odd to hear the butler worry so much, so with an apologetic grin, Diavolo stepped away from you for a moment to assure Barbatos that all was well. 

You turned, going to pace just a few steps down the street before a demon bumped into you, staggering you backwards. Their D.D.D. fell out of their hands and onto the floor. “Whoa! Sorry there,” they actually apologized. 

“Oh...uh...no worries.” Still a little stunned from the abrupt encounter, you bent down to pick up their device for them.

The demon snatched it from the ground before you could even touch it. “Say, weren’t you just at Café Lament earlier?” Finding it a weird question, you struggled to respond. This, they took as a confirmation. “I knew it! You looked familiar! The human for the exchange program, yeah?” Again, they didn’t give you much time to answer. “Aren’t you staying at the House of Lamentation?” Why did they want to know so much about you? And why were they not letting you speak? “Who was that demon with you then? Didn’t look like any of the Seven Sins.” This was beginning to lead down a road that made your stomach churn. “Are you out here alone?”

"They are not." It was a simple declaration, but a strong one, a wave of power washing over you both, raw magic filling the air, flooding your lungs as if you had just inhaled a cloud of smoke. The other demon felt it too, freezing in place, suddenly aware that they were messing with the wrong person. You were gently pulled, being suddenly moved behind Diavolo's back. His first instinct was to put himself between the two of you. He did not shout, he did not fight, he simply stood there, slowly lowering his hood to reveal his face. "If there is something you need from them, you can ask me."

The demon's eyes grew wide from sheer panic. If there's one rule down here demons do follow, it's to not tick off the prince. They stuttered, immediately falling into this act of false respect, bowing their head towards their ruler. "I-I was simply curious about the program, your majesty. Of course, I only wanted to learn about your wisdom first-hand and I-"

"Enough," Diavolo simply raised his hand, the demon silencing immediately. If he did so with a spell or simply sheer intimidation you did not know. "You are dismissed." Those words were laced with magic so powerful, you almost turned and left yourself, but Diavolo kept his arm near you...kept you close.

For the other demon, however, they began to walk backward, their body betraying them as the order from the prince flooded their bones. They kept moving with their head bowed till they were several feet away from you. Only then did they snap out of it, looking around them in a fearful daze before they ran off.

Diavolo remained in place, shoulders squared, suddenly aware of the whispers of others, the public looking on. He whispered to you, guiding you away from everyone else, using his body to keep you out of sight. “Let us...return to the castle.” He said nothing till you both were on castle grounds, the gate shutting behind you. Then he turned, his posture sagging slightly as he no longer felt the need to be so regal. His words were assertive but not aggressive. “Are you alright?” 

How could you be truthful when someone like Diavolo was right in front of you? You knew he was a prince, but sometimes you forgot...how real that royal status was. “I’m...I...I’m okay.” 

His lips parted as his jaw dropped ever so slightly. His eyes narrowed in a bit of pain. “You don’t need to act around me. My title is simply that, just a title. Sure, I may be a prince, but don’t you see more to me than that?” 

You looked away from him for a moment, but then nodded. He was more to you than just a prince. “I’m a little frazzled, but they didn’t do anything to me. You came just in time.” 

He managed a smile, sighing in relief. “I’m glad for that at least.” He gestured towards the castle, the two of you walking. He fell back just enough to stand with you shoulder to shoulder. “I’m sorry today didn’t go quite as planned. Shall we spend the rest of the day here with just us? No one will bother you. You and I are free to be just who we are without having to fear the consequences.” 

Barbatos

For the love of Diavolo, give this man more of a break. 

Even on his day off--his royally ordered day off--he still was thinking about grabbing groceries and other various items for the castle or for Diavolo. “The dining hall could use new drapes,” he had said. “I am running rather low on tea, what if a guest arrives?” He had fretted. “As it happens, I am currently on the hunt for a particular set of antique measuring cups,” he informed you. Perhaps work never really ends as a demonic butler. Although that last bit of information did seem more personal than the others...

So, the heavy duty of convincing the butler to do something for himself for a change now rested on your shoulders. At the rather desperate request of the prince, you might add. Of course, at your simple suggestion of heading out, he expressed how happy he was to do something with you. 

Sometimes two and two really does just equal four. 

So you both took the time to go on a lovely stroll. To avoid getting him to think about work, you brought up the idea to find a more scenic route of the town, leading him away from shops and places where he could start checking off his errand list. 

He agreed, leading you through a lovely public garden and up to an overlook, the two of you peering down at the busy buzzing demons that scurried around the Devildom. 

Then your peaceful moment was interrupted by a ringtone. With a polite ‘pardon me for a moment’, Barbatos took the call. Guess someone finally contacted him with an offer for the aforementioned antique measuring cups. Good for him, he deserved something nice like that. 

You allowed him his privacy, wandering a little ways away to look at a lovely flowerbed with several glowing flowers. Only, as you crouched down to observe the petals, some stranger did the same thing right next to you. “Aren’t these gorgeous?” The demon asked, acting unfazed as you flinched, startled at the sudden appearance. 

You stood, moving around to the other side of the public flowerbed to give yourself some personal space. “Y-yeah, they’re...nice.” 

…The demon mimicked your movements, coming around so they were shoulder to shoulder with you. You felt like you could hardly breathe with them being so close...

Now was the time to leave, you figured, before the situation escalated. So you took a step forward...only to find the demon was now blocking your path, standing directly in front of you, hands in their pockets, keeping you from moving on. “Why the rush? We were having a good talk, weren’t we?” What talk? The single mention of the flowers? “Stay with me a while...We have a lot we can talk about.” Their hand outstretched to grab you. 

All the sudden, a swirling portal crackled into existence behind the demon. Neither of you had time to fully comprehend what was happening before rattling chains shot forth from the other side, wrapping around their limbs, entangling the demon in their grasp. “Wh-what is this?” The demon shrieked, struggling. They had no time to ask any questions. With a brisk tug, the demon was pulled into the magical void. 

When the portal closed, Barbatos was behind it, tucking his D.D.D. back into his pocket. For a moment, you could’ve sworn the relatively calm and neutral expression had vanished, a frown and furrowed brows framing angry glowing eyes. But you blinked and that image was gone, replaced by his typical pristine smile. 

“I...what was that?” You asked, head still spinning at the whole situation. 

He took a few steps closer to you, making sure that you were unharmed by checking you over. “That was me simply doing my upmost to keep the city streets free of...” He had to actually pause to think of the proper word. “Needless commotion.” 

“Where...where did they go?” You couldn’t help but ask. 

“If you really must know, just to one of the castle’s holding cells. There they can mull over their mistakes and relearn some common manners.” You stared at him, wondering what to properly say in a situation like this. Something seemed to chip away at him the longer you looked at him. “Trust me,” he ended up saying. “I had seen enough to know where it was going. I won’t waste time when it comes to you and your safety.” Once more, a flicker of honest emotion brushed over him. Just for a second. A look of worry, of pain. “Not again.” Then it was gone, and he simply smiled once more as he brushed away a winkle in your clothing. “Shall we head back to the castle?” 

“What about those cups you wanted to get?” 

He put a gentle gloved hand on the back of your shoulder as he turned you towards the direction the castle was in. “I can always retrieve those later. There are more important things to attend to right now. Tell me, what kind of treats would you like me to make for you today?” 

Solomon

He...he asked you to come because of some emergency...The voicemail had been brief and cryptic. Something about ‘the end of times’ and ‘terrible mistakes’--it was hard to make out the message when a sound like roaring wind kept washing out his voice. So of course, you ran over to Purgatory Hall as fast as you could, breathless, prepared for an apocalypse, only to find him standing outside waiting with a smile. Cheeky wizard. Had he really done all that just to get you to come spend time with him? Not that you necessarily felt like complaining. Living in different dorms meant that you didn’t see each other as often as some of the others. 

Besides, it always felt like he was busy doing something. Not that he would ever tell anyone what it was he was working on, some spell or plot of some kind. Something that he always taunted was just out of your magical league, or something that your mortal mind would struggle to comprehend. Possibly just all a scheme to get you to study harder…and possibly one that was working. 

Anyways, that was no longer the point. The focus now was on what you would be doing for the remainder of the day. He had a list of all the Devildom’s most fascinating shops, ones that contained relics and essentially fancy highly-sought-after dust-covered objects. You agreed to go along with him on the exception that you both would go out and get something nice to drink. After making a mad dash all the way over here, you were now quite parched. Any longer, and you would yourself be a relic. 

He laughed at your joke and that was that, going so far as to buy you a drink from one of the local cafes. Now you were both ‘even’, as far as he was concerned, perhaps making up for his little crank-call earlier. 

Speaking of a call...

You recognized the sound of some of the brother’s voices on the other end of Solomon’s phone, all shouting through the speakers. Apparently some sort of cursed spell went haywire and was causing havoc through the House. When there’s something weird, and it don’t look good, who you gonna call? King Solom--Nah, doesn’t have the same ring to it. Although, Solomon really should think of charging some kind of fee for fixing so many magical mishaps. 

That train of thought aside, Solomon gave you a slight humorous roll of the eyes, walking away from you as he tried to solve the problem over the phone. 

You figured you’d check your D.D.D. Maybe the group chat had some fun messages in it. You’d hardly even unlocked your device when a demon approached you out of nowhere, backing you up against a wall. They were uncomfortably close. 

“Excuse me,” you scoffed, going to move out of the way, but the demon slammed their hand against the wall, keeping you from moving. But that wasn’t going to stop you. You ducked under their arm and backed up. 

They glared, still silent, still not sharing their intentions. They started to approach you again. 

Time to go. 

You dashed into an alleyway, rushing through till you were on the other side, trying to blend into the crowd. You didn’t dare look behind you yet, simply swerving around people and weaving yourself through a maze of pathways, trying to ensure you’d lost the demon. 

The moment you finally decided you’d turn around, someone grabbed your arm. 

Before you could even think it through, your mouth was already speaking a spell. “Spirit of wind, protect me!” You quickly turned, palm facing your attacker. 

A burst of wind rushed from your body. The impact was so forceful, it pushed you back, falling to the ground while the person who had grabbed you was a few feet away from you. They groaned a bit under a mess of now wind-swept white hair. 

It was not the demon. It was Solomon. 

You quickly got back up on your feet and to his side, pulling him by the arm to help him stand. “I’m so sorry!” As you were helping him, you noticed some bruising on one of his hands, all focused around the knuckles. “I thought...there was a demon and they...” 

Before he spoke, Solomon simply chuckled, straightening once he was properly upright. “I was worried about you for a moment, but it seems maybe I shouldn’t have been.” After he dusted himself off, he scanned you over for injuries. “Are you okay?” 

Still trying to catch your breath, you looked around, trying to spot the demon that was chasing you. “I...think so, I don’t see them around.” 

Something flashed behind his eyes as he smiled. “You must’ve shaken them off. Good job. And that spell you casted? It was nearly perfect.” 

Once the facts were starting to settle in, you realized where you were...how far you had managed to make it before Solomon caught up with you. You were nearly on the street you normally took to make it back to Purgatory Hall. Had you run this way subconsciously or...was there more to it than that? You raised an eyebrow at the other human. “How...How did you find me?”

He hummed a bit, amused, putting a finger to his lips. “A sorcerer never reveals his secrets.” He then used that finger to point down the street. “We’re nearly home anyway, so why don’t we head back?” 

Before you moved, you wanted confirmation for your suspicions. “Did I hurt you?” You gestured towards his hand, and for a second, you watched his all-clever expression fall into an exhausted one. 

“You did not, no. Don’t worry about me.” He looked at his knuckles and let out a single breathy laugh. “Didn’t even feel it. Guess I’m getting older, huh?” 

You shook your head at him, a bit in disbelief both at the joke and at the thought of the ‘wise wizard Solomon’ throwing back-alley punches. “Guess I owe you one, don’t I? Thank you for saving me.” 

The joking halted, Solomon waving you over so you could walk side by side as you headed back to the Hall. “No need to thank me for this one. I’m just glad to see you safe...even if you did hit me with a spell.” Okay, so there was still a little joking. “But if you still feel like you owe me, how about...staying with me for the rest of the day?” 

  Simeon

The angel had been working much too hard as of late. Not only does he have to watch over the Devildom’s smallest guardian angel, Luke, but he does have to essentially manage the Devildom’s oldest human, Solomon. On top of those two, he was working on a new writing project. Night after night he would work on this manuscript, writing himself right into a horrid bout of writer’s block. A travesty in two parts. 

It had been decided. Simeon needed some fresh air. 

Spending some time outside away from the responsibilities of Purgatory Hall would do him some good both physically and creatively. Maybe being around you for the better part of the day would bring down some divinely timed inspiration. 

Regardless of the outcome, Simeon simply beamed when you came all the way over to the Hall to ask him to come with you to the heart of town. He was quite literally glowing, a faint light shimmering behind the silhouette of his body. Of course, he did feel a bit guilty leaving Luke and Solomon home alone together, but he promised to bring them both home a little gift. He was always sweet like that.

You let him tell you what he was working on while you both walked, glad to hear him talk so passionately about something of his. He shared with you his outline, his plot, his main character...and you couldn't help but notice some...similarities between your story and this protagonist of his. But you couldn't be fully sure if that was his intention, after all, creators take bits and pieces of the world around them to make their art. But...knowing him...and his stories...it was absolutely based off of you.

However, before you were able to question him on his choice of character creation, he got a phone call. Without thinking, he answered it, not even checking to see who was calling. Luckily, it was only Luke. Unluckily, the angel was very upset, apparently near tears at some scary movie Solomon had shown him.

With an empathetic 'oh dear', Simeon stepped aside to do his best to console the little angel.

You watched him move away from you with a little smile, shaking your head a little as you wished Simeon the best of luck in your mind.

“Excuse me,” a sudden voice called out from behind you. You turned to face a demon, one you had never met before. “I was wondering if you could help me with something.” 

Immediately, a little feeling settled into your gut. One might call it paranoia, the other would call it intuition. You didn’t trust this demon one bit. “I...uh, am not sure I’d be of much help. Perhaps if you asked someone else you-” 

“I didn’t want to ask someone else, I wanted to ask you.” …Man did you hate it when your gut was right. The demon stepped closer, the look across their face a bit more sinister than before. “Are you saying you don’t want to help me? That’s rather rude.” 

You took a step back, and then the demon grabbed your wrist. 

All the sudden, a bright light flashed behind you. The demon quickly let go of you, shielding their eyes as they were suddenly blinded. What was it? An explosion? A flashbang? Then the light faded, the sound of footsteps coming up behind you. 

The first thing Simeon did was gently lift your wrist, making sure you were unharmed. It was a bit sore, sure, but nothing terrible. He ran his fingers over it before letting your hand fall back to your side. With a slow turn, he looked at the demon and smiled. 

He said nothing. Not a thing. Just stared, an unwavering ring of light around his irises. 

The demon didn’t like that. Blinking spots out of their vision, they growled.  “Damn angel.” 

“Do you wish to atone?” Simeon finally asked, his usual friendly tone now a serious one as cold as Lucifer’s. The demon didn’t reply, considering their options, wondering if they would rather fight or flee. A spotlight then seemed to shine over the demon, every part of them uncovered under this warm glow. The warmth then seemed to grow hotter, the air humming with magic. “Or would you rather experience Celestial Retribution?” 

You struggled to see with all the light, trying to shade your view with a hand in front of your face. But you heard the demon run more than you saw it, listening to them curse obscenities before scrambling away. The light only faded after the demon was long gone. 

When you were able to see the angel again, his face was covered in shadow, his head tilted downwards. “Simeon...” 

In a few quick steps, he suddenly had you in a hug, releasing his nerves and his anger in a long sigh. “Thank heavens you are alright. I’d never be able to forgive myself if something happened to you.” He pulled himself back and rested both hands on your shoulders. “You’re not hurt right?” 

“Yeah, I’m-” You were going to say ‘yeah, I’m not’ but were cut off by the angel before you could finish. 

“You are?!” He actually raised his voice a little, emotions running high through him. 

“I meant no! I’m not!” 

He dropped his hands and took a deep breath, collecting himself. “Forgive me.” He put his hand over his chest and closed his eyes, waiting until he was properly composed before reaching that same hand over to you should you want to take it. “Shall we both head back to the Hall? I think we both would feel better away from the crowds. Plus, I think Luke would feel much better after seeing you again.” He still looked at you with worried eyes. “Don’t stray too far from me. I don’t think my heart could take another scare.” 

[thesouppond]

[ Safe Spaces ] // Previous | Next | Latest // [ TW: Cammie's headsnatcher incident, PTSD, Nightmares, Implied SA & violence]

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[idontknowreallywhy]

Estera Ch 4 - Thunderbird

(Prologue, Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3)

From here on ignore anything I say about future chapter length because somehow this one ended up longer still… but slightly too many words better than no words, right?

I need to work out how to properly tag this but there are… events of an unpleasant nature in E’s early adult life during the war which won’t ever be described but will be implied at various points and are a little more strongly implied here than they have been so far. As I say, there will never be anything graphic or in any way detailed but if the hint that there was something in the past is going to cause you a problem please dodge. I considered writing it out completely but it would involve rewriting a lot of how her character develops and I just couldn’t make it work.

Right, I’ll get on with dropping stuff on Scott…

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Thankfully the collapse was a short lived and highly localised one. Although the shockwave of each chunk of rock slamming into his back and helmet shuddered through his ribs and down his spine, it didn’t hurt too badly so it was unlikely much damage had been done. The suit had done its job - Brains really was a genius.

What was much more worrying was the way the teacher had gone entirely limp and collapsed on top of the two children she was shielding. Had a stray bit of debris hit her? Her helmet had slipped to one side but he was sure he’d covered her head… the movement of rock seemed to be slowing but it was too soon to move yet. Transferring his weight to one arm he flipped open the visor on his helmet and dragged his glove off with his teeth. He felt for a pulse while still sheltering her and the kids as best he could from the last few stray pebbles. There it was… and she seemed to be breathing slowly.

Ok. Right, ok.

He patted the shoulders of the two figures huddled beneath their teacher and called out some generically reassuring phrases to the other kids, told them to keep calm and still… then suppressed a grunt of pain as one last heavy shard came away and caught his neck and shoulder at an acute angle, tearing through the fabric of his suit. No longer able to support himself with the one arm, he braced with the other and bit back a bitter curse at the thought of how his brothers were going to react to this. Couldn’t he have at least got through one rescue without an injury to distract them with? Just one? His helmet lights flickered and went out.

A metallic pop then the fizz of static told him his comm connection was also probably a goner. It was beginning to feel distinctly less like a jazz hands kind of day.

He waited a couple more seconds to ensure nothing else would fall then with a slight grimace pushed himself up and gently rolled the teacher away from the shocked kids and into the recovery position. Her vitals were fine and from his brief torchlit inspection he couldn’t see or feel any head injury… maybe with the shock of everything she’d just fainted? Her forehead was furrowed which was… unusual. He shook her shoulder a little, she tensed her jaw but otherwise no response. Something told him to leave her be for a while.

He helped the kids up and checked them over. The rest of the class, seemingly frozen in shock up to now, suddenly rushed forwards towards their unconscious teacher. The flow of calming words continued without any conscious thought or effort as he persuaded her charges to back away a little and give her some room. She’d wake up soon. Her brain was just making her have a little rest after being so brave. She was ok, he promised. The sticky feeling progressing down his back was a reminder that he needed to keep the kids in front of him, no need to freak them out any more. He shifted so that his back was towards the wall and smiled round at them all. In a ploy to distract, he started asking them their names and favourite dinosaurs given that was clearly a topic of interest.

The two children the teacher had been sheltering were shaky but unharmed. One had snuck closer again and was gently stroking her hair. Well he’d turn a blind eye to that. The rest of the class… less so.

“Astraaaaa! Mr Scott said you have to keep away from Miss H so she can wake up slowly! It’s not fair!” Jeff’s fury at the injustice was potent.

“But I want to help!” Glistening eyes appealed to him in the dim light.

Scott cast his mind back to wrangling Gordon and Alan at this age. He just needed to get them working together somehow… he hoped he wouldn’t live to regret his next suggestion.

“Sometimes singing to somebody in a deep sleep can help. Do you guys know any songs she might like?”

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The voices of young children singing faded into her field of hearing, distant and strange in timbre as if she was underwater. She tensed, remembering the taunts and harsh laughter that had immediately preceded the darkness. Had they gone? She held her breath. It…seemed so? There was singing and they’d never have allowed that. The mocking, hateful voices had been replaced by a more melodious one and she became aware of a gentle hand patting the side of her jaw. Opening her eyes she saw Blue frowning down at her.

No! No it wasn’t safe for him here!

She gasped and scrabbled backwards whereupon she was surrounded by little arms and worried voices and she wasn’t There at all but with the kids and they were all… where…?

She blinked dazedly for a moment then it finally came flooding back and she tried and failed to find her voice to reassure them all.

At least six of them began talking at a mile a minute and any contribution from her turned out to be unnecessary, so she released a breath slowly and allowed the wave of chatter to wash away the sense of horror and revulsion prickling at her skin. Why had she passed out? The flashback had been hazy, but the eyes had been so vivid. She stole a glance at the man using his foot to shift the larger pieces of rubble to the side of the cave.

Of course it hadn’t been Him. It was just the International Rescue guy. Who probably now thought she was pretty pathetic not to mention rude.

“And you dived over to save them just like a superhero, Miss! And then Mr Scott superheroed right on top of you AND Astra AND Bee but he didn’t fly you away or anything and the wall fell all over you and it was really really scary and Rozi screamed right in my ear but you weren’t dead and Mr Scott told us we shouldn’t all sit around and poke you so we sat over here, except Astra didn’t which really annoyed Jeff and then we sang to you did you like that?”

Xanthe paused for breath and Estera took the opportunity to stem the tide of information by thanking them all for the update and asking if everyone was ok. Again. As if the question made any difference. None of them were ok. How was any of this ok? She shoved down the bubble of despair that was lurking in her windpipe.

One of the torches flickered out.

The rescuer looked up and suggested they should turn off half the torches for now. There was the traditional excited squealing as the cave got darker but there was still enough light to see each other by.

Now what?

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If he was honest, the look of absolute terror on her face had thrown him a little. He couldn’t quite rationalise it with the circumstances and it had felt quite… personal somehow, as if she wasn’t just scared but specifically scared of… him? That didn’t make any sense though. All the same he figured it wouldn’t do any harm to give her some space.

So he tidied away the fragments of rock because, well, the kids needed as much safe open floor space as possible. And he needed to do… something. He glanced over at the small oxygen tank and tried to calculate how much time had passed since his last contact with John and Virgil. They’d said half an hour. Must be coming up on that now. He hoped fervently that nothing had gone wrong, that whatever had caused the earth slip here in the cave hadn’t endangered his little brother too.

He took it back. Being out of contact with his brothers was hell. He’d take another month of smothering over this silence. Maybe two.

Maybe he had to admit that he hadn’t been ready. Something had set him on edge and he didn’t think it was the cave in, or the declining oxygen situation. There was something else wrong. What was he missing? Maybe if he was fit, he’d know but today… he cursed his fuzzy brain. The atmospheric sensor in his suit told him it was on the edge of too warm down here now but he was shivery and there were shadows at the very limits of his vision that didn’t line up with the positions of the torches…

He shifted his aching shoulder awkwardly. Ow. Oh! Blood loss! Oh! Maybe it was that. Hopefully it was just something as simple and easily fixed and could-happen-to-anyone as bleeding a little excessively and going wobbly at the edges. Somewhat relieved, and with not insignificant effort he returned his attention to the kids who had begun another passionate debate about something or other. At least they were no longer singing THAT song…

In an effort to get out of doing the actions, he’d had to pretend not to know Baby Shark… Ha! As if he’d had a chance to escape that one with a toddler Gordon in the house…

“TWO IS THE STRONGEST!”

“THREE CAN GO TO THE MOON!”

Hello? Scott perked up. This sounded more like his area.

“THREE IS RED WHICH IS THE BESTEST COLOUR! I’M RIGHT!”

“TWO PUTS OUT FIRES!”

He couldn’t help a quiet chuckle when one of them, he thought it might be Rozi, declared that Thunderbird 3’s pilot was the cutest and that she was going to marry him. Best start running, Allie.

“TWO CAN GO UNDERGROUND!”

Huh?

Outraged squawking resulted which the teacher shushed with a single raised hand. The conversation proceeded at a slightly lower volume.

“Two can’t go underground. You need a mole pod for that”

“Well you can’t have a mole pod without Two. OR Thunderbird Four. Or anything useful. Two carries all the things.”

“THUNDERBIRD TWO HAS POCKETS!” Astra stood and punched the air.

“So does my mum’s handbag, that doesn’t make it COOL.”

Scott barked out a laugh “I’ll tell him you said that.”

Eleven pairs of eyes snapped towards him.

“Which is your favourite Thunderbird, Mr Scott?”

Truthfully? Right now he’d quite like to get an eye-full of green cahelium, but this was a matter of principle.

“One, of course.”

There was a pause while the children considered. Reuben even put his fist to his jaw and gazed upwards in silent contemplation.

“One can go twenty times the speed of sound.” Piped up Sam.

Scott cringed “Uhhhh, well… nineteen times.”

“Why not twenty?”

“It’s just the way she is. After that it gets a bit… explodey.” Scott was sure Brains would back him up on that technical term…

Another pause.

“Well that’s still pretty fast.”

“Yeah but One is tiny and can’t carry a whole lake of water!”

They all turned to their teacher.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Estera had thus far masterfully avoided coming down on either side of the argument, convinced that the devoted fans on the opposing side would never forgive her. She was saved from further dodging by a popping noise and a loud hiss:

“Thunderbird Two to Thunderbird One, I am on approach to your location, eta 15 minutes. Do you read?”

The blue-eyed operative - somehow she couldn’t make his name stick in her mind - half raised his right arm then switched to the left, tapped the logo on his uniform and answered, a hint of formality layered over his lighthearted, friendly way of speaking.

“F.A.B. Thunderbird Two, great to hear your voice. Had a minor additional fall down here earlier but we’re all ok.”

There was a little ‘something’ in his voice that the man on the other end clearly noticed too.

“All of you?”

“Absolutely fine, Virgil”

She frowned and cleared her throat.

“Your colleague is favouring his left arm, suspect some damage to his right shoulder or ribs on that side when the debris fell on him”

A deep sigh over the comm.

“Thanks, don’t let him make it worse.”

Mr Friendly-Voice spluttered.

“Et tu, Brute?”

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

[starmakesart]

Unsteady Hands [AU where Leo meets with Yuri one last time before the final fusion and has a few choice words for his 'son'. It doesn't go over well.]

[madmanwonder]

Ask

Law and Crime: Criminal- Mafia AU

How would the Branwen Mafia Head herself Raven deal with a woman named Summer getting too close to "her man" Tai?

"Tyrian will take 'care' of the red-haired whore." Raven replied in a icily calm voice, red eyes narrowed in a sharp glare.

[lovelycryptidnamedlucifer]

EVERYONE BE QUIET

they're talking about anime.

..oh dear.

[peppermintmochafem]

Want to kick and slap and whatever but above all else just want someone crying for me

[revelinginthedarkrooms]

Down With Lovesickness - Male Yan x GN!Reader

WARNING(S): Yandere, stalking, smoking, animal cruelty, breaking/entering, implied violence

Please read responsibly. Minors fuck off. Ageless/blank blogs DNI.

Imagine for a minute.

It’s your last year of high school and you’re hard at work trying to get your grades up. The very last project of the semester is coming, and you’ve just been assigned to work with the boy at the back of the class who’s never said a word as long as you’ve known him.

Andrew, you faintly remember, is a 6′3″ wall of a teen with dark, dark hair, a darker fashion sense, and icy blue eyes; someone nobody really wanted to socialize with, least of all you. He was the kind of guy to wear combat boots and chokers and snakebite piercings, listening to little else but My Chemical Romance and Three Days Grace with the music blaring through his earbuds. He was a parent’s worst nightmare and the envy of preteens everywhere, but he seemed to give little thought to any of it.

How he was even passing his classes, you’d never know. There were stretches of time where he just didn’t show up to class at all, you never saw him do any classwork or engage in discussions either. All he did was sit back and stare out the window, rolling a pencil between his fingers. Any time you’d ever seen anyone talk to him, he disregarded them coldly, as if it wasn’t worth his time to speak. Needless to say, you hadn’t been thrilled, but the groups were final and your teacher was insistent that if he didn’t pull his weight, you could do the whole thing yourself instead of risking half marks.

The very first time you spoke to him was during lunch. You managed to ask around until you found his sister two grades below, who pointed you in the direction of the gym with a huff of “Guess he didn’t stick to that promise again”. Sure enough you found him between the gym and the main building, a cigarette releasing a lazy stream of smoke in the shadows.

He wasn’t much for conversation at first, but with time, impatience, and offering whatever he wanted if he would just cooperate, he finally handed you his half of the project on the day of the presentation. You’d been floored - it was great-quality work, something that was sure to get a good grade. But he ignored any attempts at conversation and busied himself with staring out the window again.

After that, you found yourself crossing paths with him more and more. Sometimes you’d catch him standing behind you in the lunch line (”What? I didn’t have breakfast this morning,” he’d grumble when you looked up with a questioning glance), sometimes he’d just so happen to be checking out books in the school library when you were there to study (”I promised my brother that I’d find a horticulture guide for his weird plant hobby”), sometimes you’d even run into him after school, at the mall, at cafes, at the park - and every time he was nonchalant, cool, even, as he gave you an explanation as to why he happened to be there. Other times he brusquely said he didn’t have to say anything, and turned the tables on you. “Well, why are you here?”

Things only got weirder from there. One day one of your friends complained of a dead rat sitting on their doorstep that morning. Later on, another one complained of a weird feeling that someone was watching them as they went home every day. And yet another came to you privately and showed you pictures they’d taken of their tire slashed and blood across their windshield, spelling out “BEWARE”. It wasn’t human blood, or so they said - it was animal blood. Still didn’t explain why it was there, or who had done it. A couple in your friend group theorized that the dead rats and the blood incident were related, and it was too easy to get caught up in their talk of it. Paranoia seeped into the cracks of your friend group, and it wasn’t long before one of them snapped.

They just... disappeared from school for a week with no explanations or excuses. Even their parents refused to say anything, and your other friends were of no help either. Nobody knew what the hell had happened to them, and when they came back there was a haunted look in their eyes as they told you that you couldn’t be friends anymore. It sucked, but with all of the strange goings-on you didn’t blame them. It still burned inside to see them pull away from you.

You continued to run into Andrew more and more now. Sometimes you’d get to school and he would be just inside the doors, scaring the daylights out of you and getting a little smirk of amusement. You’d figure he enjoyed scaring you for fun with how much he spoke of little details in his life that should’ve been highly upsetting to a normal person, such as his parents’ divorce. Still he never outright bullied you, or so you thought. Who knows, maybe him making you jump and telling you morbid things was his way of being mean.

Something was weird about him, and you just couldn’t place it.

One day, he cornered you in the hallway. Classes were in session and the halls were clear, and oddly quiet, as Andrew leaned in with a rasping voice. “Go out with me, (Name).”

The question- no, demand, was so out of the blue that all you could do was balk at him. Yet he remained stoic as ever, and slowly you realized he wasn’t joking.

“I don’t want anyone except you,” he explained, and the almost suffocating linger of cigarette smoke filled your senses. His jacket was well-worn and thick, and you could feel the body heat radiating from him at this close proximity. “Go out with me. I won’t let anyone mess with you.”

It was a strange stipulation, but, well, what had you to lose? That was the first time you saw him smile, and the sight was oddly heartwarming despite his waspish façade.

Nobody could believe you if you mentioned that you were dating him. Not even your closest friends, who had laughed when you explained it after they’d seen him leave your locker one morning. Sure, his reputation proceeded him, but after a while it just began to get annoying how people would tease you and call you crazy for it.

Winter turned to spring, and you and Andrew were still dating. He walked you to your classes every day now, and more than once had slipped your favorite candy into your bag during breaks. You figured it was his way of being sweet, not noticing the ring of bruises on the back of his neck underneath his longcoat collar.

As the year wore on, people teased you less and less. Instead, now they seemed almost afraid to discuss your new relationship. Their eyes followed you when you passed, and if Andrew was walking you they would avert their gaze entirely until he was gone. Some of the school’s biggest jerks, ones who used to antagonize him, one by one stopped coming to school. When asked, he never said a thing about it, muttering something about it not being your business to know.

Something was weird about your boyfriend, but as long as he was respectful you didn’t care. Well, until you did.

One night you awoke to your window sliding open. As you all but leapt from your bed, a shout on your tongue, he shushed you by clapping a hand over your mouth, hissing, “It’s just me! Don’t scream, you idiot!”

How had he opened it from the outside? You’d sworn you’d locked it before bed. How had he managed to sneak into your hard and not set off the floodlights outside the house? Most importantly, how were you not screaming for your parents already?!

“I needed to see you,” he said next, burying his nose in your hair. The choker around his neck clinked and felt cold against your skin and you could smell sandalwood and smoke clinging to his clothes, but as your fear melted away and you were left with your giant of a boyfriend holding you in his lap on your bed, all you could think about was how warm and nice he felt.

That night went by quickly, much of it spent with Andrew’s once-icy gaze raking over your form in a soft, dare you say it loving way. By the time you woke up he was pressed into you, holding you to his chest in an iron grip. You barely managed to wake him up and shoo him out the window before your parents decided to check on you, but the grin spreading across his face sent butterflies through your chest.

He texted you later, musing about how he enjoyed spending the night, and how you’d have to come over and meet his siblings and his mother already. Your boyfriend may be gruff and cold, but somehow he swept you off your feet - and you were already anticipating the next time he would sneak in on a streak of teenage rebellion.

[ghostlyearthquakebluebird]

Mathilda Crescent - a kinda scary short story I wrote

“I’m ready to tell you the whole story,” I tell my psychiatrist, Dr. Gilmore. He’s a kind, slender man with coppery hair and beige glasses. He is assessing me for schizophrenia.

“You got this!” He beams encouragingly.

I inhale sharply, as I begin to narrate that fateful night…

***

“The rain penetrated the glowing streetlamps, casting the suburban street in a sinister light. Every building was shrouded in shadow, looming in the darkness like foreboding sentinels. I was cocooned in my thoughts, tired, and eager to get home.

“Turn right onto Mathilda Crescent in 5 kilometres,” the crisp voice of the navigator filled my car with its authoritative sound. I steered to the right, and that’s when I saw him.

A man emerging from the darkness, elusive against the flickering streetlamps.

He jogged across my car, and I swerved.

But it was too late.

The sickening crunch of bones and a metallic screech pierced the sultry air, echoing through the street. He tumbled along the road, contorting grotesquely.

My heart raced, trepidation clawing my throat as I watched it unfold.

Had I killed someone?

Trembling, I leaped from my car. I teetered towards the motionless man, my shallow breath trailing me like cigar smoke. Kneeling down, I pressed my fingers against his clammy wrist.

His pulse was faint. He was alive.

I hadn’t killed him.

I drew back, my chest loosening. The man was shrouded in darkness, but spasming light illuminated his foaming mouth, dancing across his pale skin. His eyes were closed.

Calmly, I dialled 000.

I’m not a murderer, I reminded myself, as the voice of a dispatcher filled my ears.

“How can I help you?”

“I just hit a man with my car. He’s alive but unconscious. He needs emergency services,” I explained. “I’m at Mathilda Crescent, Ascot.”

The dispatcher remained eerily silent.

Finally, he made a soft, muffled sound. A chuckle.

“Ma’am, are you crazy or lying? Mathilda Crescent was demolished 20 years ago!”

With that, he hung up.

I looked back at the man, still lying there. He was definitely real.

Realer than ever as he unexpectedly lunged at me, seizing my arm.

I was too shocked to scream. I jerked my wrist away, looking into his eyes as they snapped open.

They were globes of white, pooling with coagulated blood.

I shrieked in horror, my heart leaping into my throat.

Every part of me told me to run.

Far away.”

***

I finish, looking at Dr. Gilmore. My nerves fray with anxiety.

“D’you think I imagined it all? Am I really schizophrenic?” I cry, a hostile psychiatric hospital flashing in my mind.

“No. You just gave the dispatcher the wrong street,” there is an unusual edge to Gilmore’s voice.

I frown. “What do you mean?”

“Your navigator led you astray. You hit the man on Tara Avenue, not Mathilda Crescent.”

I stare at him in stunned silence. I’m relieved to be non-schizophrenic, but I’m confused.

“How d’you know?” I ask.

His expression is unfathomable. The map of creases on his face distort with…rage?

Unexpectedly, he removes his glasses.

I gulp.

His eyes are purely white, crusted with parched blood.

“Because I’m the man you hit that night,” he seethes. “You left me, half–blind, to die in the bone-chilling cold, as I begged for help.”

My breath flees. I remember his desperate grasp around me…

I want to run.

But the doors are locked.

“Let’s continue our session!” A grin flickers across his lips. “I’ll show you what it’s like to be me.”

He smiles, drawing long, metal scissors from his pocket.

They point at my eyes.

I wrote this last year for a suspense english test for yr 7. what do u think? Did u like? The word limit was 600 words so thats prolly why theres some interesting word choices there haha

[trashybandit]

Hi my love I missed you 🥹 I hope that life is treating you well ❤️

Came to you with pervy thoughts of Pro Hero Shinsou teasing the shy lil barista that makes his morning (4pm) coffee. 🤲🏾

Comes in at the start of his shift every day to mess with you about stuttering his hero name or accidentally knocking over the sugar dispenser when your fingers brush. You’ve become apart of his routine so he’s sort of pissed when you’re not there when he comes in at his usual hour and think about how pissed he’d be when he finds out from your coworker that you took off for a date with some loser from your college. He may or may not have used his quirk to find out where the dickwad had taken you and decides to do a lil pop up 🙈🙉

I MEANT TO RESPOND SOONER BUT LIFE STARTED FIGHTING DIRTY SO I HAD TO STOP BEING A HORNY HOE AND GET MY SHIT TOGETHER SHBSHJS

Tagging your active blog because my dumbass didn't realized you changed blogs @darkmajesty-xo and @no-saints-around-here for beta-reading my nonsense~

TW: Noncon, yandere, choking, implied violence, humiliation, self-deprecation, mentions of drinking, and manipulation

Shinsou being your regular customer is both a blessing and a curse. On one hand, he’s one of the most loyal customers you’ve ever had the pleasure of having. Always on time, ordering the exact same drink, and knows exactly what he wants and how he wants it. He’s extremely popular with the cats and there is no denying that the sight of a kitten peacefully snoozing on his indigo locks was a miracle cure for exhaustion. The cons, however, were prominent. Shinsou knew exactly what he wanted, and one mild deviation would leave you drowning in embarrassment as he teased you into oblivion, each sentence digging slightly into your confidence yet making you feel stupid for letting a simple joke get to you like that. Despite all of that, having him swing by at your day’s end for a hot cup of coffee and cuddling cats to start his long day of work was something you looked forward to. With college and your part-time job taking up all your time, Shinsou somehow ended up becoming a friend of sorts. Sure, he wasn’t someone you’d call up when you’re completely wasted, incoherently babbling about your nonexistent love problems, but he was someone you’d anticipatedly wait for, making sure to save his favorite pastries and slightly worry when he didn’t show up on time. 

Without even trying, Shinsou knew that he wormed his way into your heart and that filled him with pride. All it took was a smile and a couple sweet words, and he’d already clutched half of your heart firmly in his hand. Yet he wasn’t any better. You held a monopoly over his mind, intruding in the most inappropriate moments with contents that left him up at night contemplating new-found discoveries. But the half a heart of yours he proudly held a few moments ago was seemingly snatched, right under his own eyes.

Lazily leaning against the wooden counter, Shinsou followed your movements with his eyes, silently tracking the process of his drink whilst steeped in bitter anger. Words that threatened to crawl out of his throat held back by his rapidly thinning patience. Just a couple minutes earlier, you’d oh so kindly shattered the illusion that his presence brought you boundless joy. The sanctity of this routine with the borderline flirting over some coffee and cats as Shinsou’s brain fully awakened under the setting sun’s golden rays that illuminated your bustling form was tarnished in one fell swoop. Years of practice was the only thing preventing his facade of nonchalance from cracking, revealing the swirling fury hidden in his eyes, coiling beneath the surface, increasing the more you left the unsavory fact unaddressed. If he didn’t know better, he’d say you were torturing him with the possibility of a lover, letting the possibility hang in the air, sadistically watching him drive himself mad with the possibilities. 

The nails digging harshly into Shinsou’s skin dragged him out of his spiraling thoughts in time to focus on your softly uttered words barely tickling his ears. 

“I-I just…wanted to know-to ask…” your voice trailed alongside your confidence to start such a conversation. Taking a deep breath to soothe your nerves, you trudged on, ignoring the vague sense of wrongness enveloping the near empty store while hoping that the upcoming embarrassment was worth the advice you hoped to gain. 

“Ask what?” drawled the indigo-haired male, eyes firmly locked onto your own.

His gaze felt off by miles, much more suffocating than physically possible like those purple eyes of his that threatened to drag you into the chaotic mess that was his mind. There was no stopping the primal fear from washing over you, freezing you mid-stir, unable to break the petrifying eye contact, blood pounding in your ears as your brain hyperfocused on pro-hero as if it’d improve your chances of surviving.  

And then he blinked.

It was like the figurative mountain of your chest disappeared in an instant as if you hallucinated the entire encounter. What was seconds before a hauntingly blank expression was replaced with a languid smile, amused eyes observing your still frozen form, one that signaled lighthearted teasing that’d leave you punching your pillow at night. But even after months of being treated with a variety of Shinsou’s smiles, it was the first time you saw such a preformative, slightly stiff, smile that dared you to think about the situation further. 

“D-did you want any su-sugar?”

As the day progressed, the entire incident faded to the back of your mind as menial tasks took up your thoughts. You’d brushed it off as Shinsou having a bad day and tried to ignore the lingering fear still hanging over you, instead pouring your energy into finishing up your work for the day. Tactfully avoiding irritating the pro-hero further, the potential of conversation died quickly as an oppressive air fell over the empty shop. Clinks of cups and running water were the only noises reverberating around the room with the occasional harsh squeaking of sneakers. The silence felt foreign, unwelcomed in its intrusion on to the formerly harmonious atmosphere, but neither you nor Shinsou had the heart to fix it. Unlike usual, Shinsou remained in his little crook next to the window instead of disappearing to fight crime after thirty minutes of lovingly tormenting you, opting to softly hum goodbye at your departing form as he rubbed the cat curled up in his lap.

The gentle jingle of the bell signaling your departure was his cue to launch his hastily formed plan. Long legs strided towards the counter once again, cup loosely clutched in hand, ready to seek some answers via questionable methods.

The victim of Shinsou’s pent-up anger was your unassuming colleague, a reserved woman in her late twenties. Shinsou had seen her around the place and you two seemed to have an amicable relationship if she was willing to take up a portion of your shift. Surely she must know why, more importantly who, you rushed off to meet. 

The light tap of the ceramic cup against the wooden counter opened the ill-founded encounter. Not a second was wasted getting to the point with Shinsou posing as a concerned friend of yours. Using his quirk here would be a bit too risky, best to use it as little as possible. Can’t have him leave traces before he even began.

"Who is she meeting?"

"Don't know."

With annoyance tainting the crafted concern dripping from each syllable, he continued, “Where did she go?”

“I can’t seem to remember at the moment…”

Ah, so she was that type.

Freeing a wad of cash from his wallet and sliding it across the counter awarded Shinsou the address to a popular rooftop bar and he was just itching to have an extremely civil conversation with your date.

The cool night air whipped your skin, but you didn’t care as you smiled goofily at the man across you. For your crush to ask you out of nowhere was nothing short of a dream come true, leaving you walking on air. A soft giggle escaped as he sauntered off to get more drinks, all in that effortlessly charismatic manner of his, promising to return in a second.

It became increasingly apparent that your definitions of a second were wildly different. It had to have been twenty minutes ever since he left and you were starting to get worried. Combined with the constant sight of lovey-dovey couples around you and the ever-persistent feeling of being judged after the apparent stand-up, it all made you want to crawl into your shadow and brood in peace. You could practically hear their thoughts oozing of pity and superiority as they seamlessly wandered down the 'at least I'm not her' avenues as they snuggled closer to their very much present dates. A familiar creeping sense of embarrassment and humiliation lead to burning tears threatening to spill from your eyes, but you couldn’t cry here, that’d just prove their point. That you were some unloveable bitch dumped the millisecond her date could escape, some quirkless idiot who thought she had a chance with one of the campus beauties, that…that…

A wet drop on a clenched fist dragged you from the murky thoughts signaling yet another failure. 

You were just useless, weren’t you? Ever since you somehow, against all the odds, managed to get admitted into a prestigious university, a nice job, and even a date with one of the hottest guys on campus, you really thought you were hot shit, but you couldn’t hide your true nature any longer. If he could see it, it wouldn’t be long before others saw how utterly pathetic you truly were. 

The idea of licking your wounds in an extremely public place forced you to pull yourself together and find a setting more appropriate for ugly crying that didn’t carry the threat of drunkards humping like mutts in heat each other intruding. Yet, the routine walk of shame to settle the bill (just in case, if he was an ass to leave you mid-date, who knows if he actually paid anything), you bumped into an unexpected figure. A lean back, snatched waist, and an ass so fine, you’d recognize it anywhere, but the vibrant luxurious purple hair was a dead giveaway anyways, it was Hitoshi Shinsou in all of his sleep-deprived glory.  

Being blessed with the sight of a hot man illuminated by the dim string lights, pink tongue seductively licking his lips as his sharp eyes scanned the crowd like a predator hungry for their next meal, was enough to make you stop in your tracks and just stare at him. Questions like why was he here, who was he looking for, among others were a welcome respite from your personal ongoing pity party.

If the lights were a tad brighter, you’d notice the return of that eerie stare of his. How his eyes drank in the sight of you like his survival was dependent on it. The humble wisps of patience preventing Shinsou from enacting his depraved fantasies were reduced to strands, and your watery eyes staring at him blankly, plump lips gasping his name in confusion spelling the end of his amiable demeanor.

Taking you back to his apartment was criminally easy even without his quirk as you babbled about the disastrous night you had. If it wasn’t him guiding you into his trap tonight, it would’ve been your date, and that wasn’t a possibility he enjoyed thinking about. You were truly helpless without him, weren’t you?

You were flopped on Shinsou’s extremely soft bed, completely delirious from the extended heartfelt sobfest and copious amounts of alcohol. If you were a bit more clear-headed, you’d be questioning why you were here, but the crisp water he brought you washed away any inkling of such thoughts whilst parching your dry throat. The warm hand rubbing circling on your back slowly was rather soothing, so much so that you didn’t notice how close Shinsou was pressing against you. 

“Do you feel better now?” Shinsou softly questioned, leaning closer to get a better look at you.

“..Mhm.”

“Just forget about him, alright? He was a piece of shit anyways.”

“Yeah…”

You avoided looking at him directly, the guilt for feeling ungrateful for still being affected despite Shinsou’s best efforts gnawed at you from the inside. Yet, he never stopped comforting you in silence, never pressing you to immediately feel better. 

Oh, what would you do if you could hear Shinsou’s thoughts? How much he wishes you to remain all pliant as his hands as he felt you up, to remain indebted to him until you cave into his demands, to wrap you tightly in his webs of (mostly) white lies till you couldn’t escape. Gently tilting your head up, he wiped the tears slowly accumulating carefully, silently lamenting how entrancing you looked because of some scum. If only you’d cry because of him, preferably from pleasure, but pain could be delightful as well. 

He could find out right now.

It’d be easy to convince you that this is what you wanted, that you confessed your feelings to him all night long. From there, it’d be all smooth sailing, but if there were some…hiccups, he could just use quirk to enact some confinement play. Surely, no one would care much for some quirkless woman, forget even suspecting him. If it ever came to that, Shinsou was sure he could make it work.

Blurry as your vision was, the change in demeanor didn’t escape you. Even if your intoxicated mind couldn't process what exactly was off, your body was already responding to the encroaching threat. Goosebumps covered your skin as shivers spontaneously wracked your body and you instinctively started to curl into yourself, eliciting a disconcerting laugh from Shinsou.

“Why are you hiding?” he cooed while peering for some opening in your form, “Are you…scared?” 

There was not much of a response, but he didn’t mind. You’d have a lot of time to do so later anyways. 

“Come on, now. You don’t need to ignore me like this.”

Shinsou’s arms further caged you in as he encroached further onto your personal space. You could feel his hot breath invasively brushing against your skin. He maintained this intrusive position for far too long, each puff seemingly stripping all your defenses and laying you bare for his pleasure. 

“...Pl-please-” you began, before being unceremoniously cut off. 

“Please what?”

“Get…off-”

You were acutely aware of your mistake as soon as you responded. A heavy blanket fell down upon your already hindered thoughts and you felt oddly disconnected from your body. Everything felt sharply dull, until the first order came in.

Focus on me.

Wherever thin, calloused hands touched, you could feel every slight action. The amount of pressure, direction, and even the scars on his palms were the only thing that registered in your brain. It was far from painful, but the amount of pleasure still elicited fear. Even processing how your trust was betrayed, bastardized in a moment of weakness, was impossible with how heightened your senses were. You were forced to listen to Shinsou’s disgusting confessions of how long he’d been dying to do this to you, what he planned to do, and even condescendingly praising you. His hands had long stripped you down to your undergarments and had transitioned to gently cupping your breasts while making snide comments along the lines of them being cuter than he imagined and daring you to guess how many people had imagined doing this to you.

“I bet you wanted that cumstain to do this to you, huh? You wanted him to touch you with hands that jacked off to the thought of defiling you every night, right? You wanted him to kiss you with the mouth that has kissed thousands before you? Did you really think you were special?”

“Did you think he actually loved you?”

Each word magnified every insecurity that had reared their ugly heads earlier in the evening. Hearing it from that magnetizing voice that you heard everyday with such certainty could only mean they were true. If you’d only be able to think about it more, you could debunk such claims, be offended, and kick him in the balls before reporting him, but alas you couldn’t do any of that, just wallow in miserable thoughts.

The tirade of insults continued as his hands undid your bra and lazily played with your nipples before shifting to suck them. For a moment, you were happy that he just shut up until the feeling of a wet muscle flicking back and forth at an agonizingly slow pace combined with the soft flicks on the other nipple registered. It didn’t help his other hand had snaked down to your underwear, casually busying itself with outlining your clit. He continued the onslaught for what felt for hours with each rub, flick, and suck fueled by long-held lust and determination to make you cry from either pleasure or despair.

With a wet pop, Shinsou released your nipple from his mouth to turn his attention to those lips of yours. That disgusting tongue of his wormed its way into your mouth, dragging your leaded tongue to play along. Your lips were sucked until they were swollen, kissed until you were both breathless and saliva was dripping down your frozen chin. The sight of him licking it before transitioning to softly kissing your neck like a diligent lover felt fundamentally wrong with all the night’s revelations.

Not that your discomfort mattered to him anyways.

A long finger slipped inside of you without much warning, curling and twisting as it prepared you for something much larger. The urge to abandon his efforts of reducing any pain gnawed at Shinsou, but the image of you finally snapping out of his brainwashing as he finally becomes one with you, only capable of moaning out his name and begging him to stop. So, another finger went in before scissoring your little pussy, enjoying how your gummy walls squeezed against his digits. After savoring the sensation for a couple of minutes, Shinsou reluctantly removed his digits from your warm insides, only to shove his leaking cock into you with one, powerful thrust. 

The brainwashing plaguing your mind suddenly vanished as a wave of pain washed over you. You could feel yourself being stretched out at an inhuman pace, yet unable to do anything but garbled shrieks and sobs. 

“God…you’re so…t-tight. You really wanted me, huh?” Shinsou practically growled. “You’re practically…drooling all over me,” he huffed. 

He pressed you down, further driving his dick deeper inside of you, as he licked your ear lobe, whispering in that husky, out of breath voice of his that you wanted him. Why else do your hips chase after him? Why else are those delightful moans tumbling out of your mouth? Why did your greedy cunt accept him so easily?  

“Admit it, you want me.”

Those moans of yours were not enough for Shinsou. He needed to hear actual words of affirmations, to force a confession out of you that’ll become a reality after a couple rounds of brainwashing. He wanted to break you. Destroy that naive girl who was desperate for validations until she was unrecognizable, then build her back up piece by piece as his obedient kitten who was dependent solely on him. The more resistance you put up, the sweeter the result and the process, if he was being honest, would be. 

The longer you withheld the confessions, the harsher his thrusts, grip, and words became. Until, Shinsou stopped. He let your body flop to the bed like a discarded toy, ignoring your yelps of pain, before wrapping his fingers around your throat. 

Such a fragile little thing that controlled your life and with a bit too much pressure, you’d be left scrambling for air as your vision blurred and lungs burned. And you met his expectations to a T. Gurgles of fear and shock escaping your moist bruised lips as you tried to claw his hand off, all with tears forming in your eyes from this simple action. 

“I won’t repeat myself, say you want me,” Shinsou threatened with eyes lowered with plans of unspeakable horrors if you continued defying him and voice tinted with slight desperation akin to a man trying to convince himself this didn’t matter.

Ringing served as the backdrop to his threat as the edges of your sight started fading to black. Thoughts of survival filled your mind with death seeming to be a few minutes away. Attempts at bucking your hips and pushing him off yielded nothing but a tighter grip on your neck. There was only one thing you could do:

“I-ugh-...wanT y-you.”

Even before you could relieve your oxygen-deprived self, your breath was snatched once again. The soft kisses from earlier seemed to be an illusion as Shinsou bit your lips,grazed his tongue over the wounds he created, and left trails of hickies and full-on bites across your skin.

You said it yourself, you wanted him. It didn’t matter to him that he’d coerced it out of you, it came out of your mouth. 

What kind of boyfriend would he be if he left you unattended? 

[welcometoterrorcity]

Ngl ..."those who are left"Sounds very ominous 💀

Professor Terror: Like I said, I gave people a chance to leave before I took over. Some have returned, others have not. I also dealt with those who tried to take me down. Those that are left are those who either choose to stay and live under my guardianship, those who have no place else to go, or those I am allowing to live here. Emphasis on living.

[idontknowreallywhy]

Estera Ch 6 - Safe

(Prologue, Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5)

(Sofasurf’s Recrudescence which is the foundation for all of this)

Scott’s fled for the skies. Estera needs to find someone’s inhaler. But what happens next?

Well. Some details follow.

My usual blend of fluff and “Yikes”…

Confession - this got a teeny bit dark in the last section. If you want to stop reading at the end of the fluffy bit (you’ll know it when you see it) then there is zero judgment from me. I even make myself go “Yikes” with that one…

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

The authorities had called her a cab home, the hired coach having been sent away when all the parents arrived in person to collect their children. Although she had protested at the expense - surely there was a bus route somewhere nearby - she hadn’t had the energy to argue.

Thus she sat alone in the back seat trying to collect her thoughts. They resisted collection in a way that made cat herding look like a relaxing past time. So she fidgeted, putting on her cardigan then removing it again, retying her hair, rearranging the contents of her rucksack. Which she’d already done ten minutes before. She tried to force herself to calm down and turned to look out the window, her forehead meeting the glass with a surprisingly loud clunk.

“There’s a universal charging cable under the seat, Miss, and free WiFi if you’d like to use it.”

Of course there was. Couldn’t escape it these days. She didn’t want to appear rude so she smiled, thanked him and dutifully plugged in her battered mobile.

It flickered to life and within seconds several messages popped up… from her sister, a couple of friends, her elderly neighbour, even her hairdresser - clearly today’s events had hit the news. She drafted a quick reassurance, copied it to everyone and put the device down. She felt weirdly detached. It seemed strange that everyone was freaking out about her having been stuck in a cave when that had paled into utter insignificance compared to the shock she had experienced afterwards.

How could it be possible? He couldn’t have escaped, could he? If it hadn’t been for his reaction she’d have persuaded herself she was imagining things. But his reaction had been… compelling.

She picked up the phone again and opened a browser

‘International Rescue Scott’

An overwhelming plethora of photographs and articles and, wow ok, actual fan pages sprang up.

Most of the photos were distant, or amateur and blurry but his unmistakeable blue eyes shone out at her from the official ones - profile shots for International Rescue, some charity positions and… she gulped… he was the multi-billionaire CEO of one of the biggest companies on the planet. Even she knew of Tracy Industries - they were one of the good ones. A school in one of the more difficult neighbourhoods nearby had just had a complete IT infrastructure upgrade thanks to a grant from them.

His official TI profile confirmed his Air Force background, with honourable discharge after active duty. It didn’t say where that was but she knew.

Oh, she knew.

She skimmed some of the more gushing articles. All fairly light on objective facts but weighty on opinion and that opinion was pretty much universal - he was a hero, beloved by millions, a undoubted force for good in an often cruel and selfish world.

And she’d left him to die.

She closed the browser, no longer able to bear the accusation in his eyes.

“Are you alright, Miss?”

The taxi driver was watching her in the rear view mirror.

“I’m fine. Thank you.“

She let out a breath as his eyes returned to the road ahead. But he wasn’t done:

“Long day was it?”

“Something like that.”

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For the second time in as many months Virgil vowed to chase Brains up on the speed upgrade to Two. It was absolutely pointless trying to catch up to his brother who could be halfway to anywhere by now. Thankfully, he had John and Five.

“Virgil! He’s heading back your way.”

“What?”

“One just did a U-Turn. She’s heading straight for you.”

“What do you mean “straight”?”

“A collision course. Virgil, I think you should get ready to take evasive action.”

Even at a moderate speed the two birds making any kind of head on contact…even a wing clip, meant mutually assured destruction. Was Two nimble enough to avoid that?

Scott would never risk Virgil being hurt.

But… he remembered the cold, unfamiliar look on the former fighter-pilot’s face as he’d spun to face him not ten minutes before. Was his brother in a state to know who was flying the ship chasing him down?

Virgil bit back a scream.

“Can’t EOS…?”

“No. She can’t. He’s blocked her access.”

Virgil looked down at the Atlantic far below him. Could he drop his ship safely on the surface of the water? He cut his speed.

“I’m tracking her path, I’ll tell you when to move.”

This couldn’t be happening. He tried the comm again, fighting to keep his voice calm and unthreatening:

“Scotty? Can you hear me bro? It’s me, Virgil. Please pick up? Please?”

“25 seconds, Virgil. Start reducing altitude.”

White knuckled, he tipped Two’s nose downwards and went to accelerate.

“Wait!”

“What? What???!”

“It’s ok. It’s ok, he’s adjusted course to pass on your port side. I’m… I misunderstood what… I’m sorry to have worried you.” John sounded almost light headed.

With her familiar crack-boom One shot past in a blur. Virgil flinched as her vapour trail crystallised on her sister’s windscreen for a few moments. He levelled Two off and pulled up the graphical readout of One’s tracker. Scott appeared to have done one of his signature handbrake turns and was heading back towards him at a more sedate pace… the rocket’s trajectory heading safely to the left of Two. Gleaming silver came into view alongside and Scott matched the green ship’s pace, the way he often did on journeys home from the more difficult rescues. Those times when Virgil knew his big brother needed company more than the adrenaline rush of g force and extreme speed.

The comm remained muted, but they were together. And that, until they got home at least, was all that mattered.

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The lift was broken again and Estera truly empathised with it as she dragged herself to the 5th floor. Her limbs were jelly and once she was on the right side of her front door she considered just lying down in the hall and having done with it. At which point 60 kilos of floof and enthusiasm canonballed into her and she realised with a quiet groan that she had to take him out before he destroyed everything in her apartment. Glancing down at her dusty sleeves as they contrasted with Bez’s snowy fur, she resolved to shower and change first else people would think she’d just escaped from a disaster zone.

Not so different from the state she was in when she first got here come to think of it. The darkness of the following few days in Processing crowded in on her and she didn’t have the energy to push it away. It was all too close to the surface today.

Bez licked the salt off her cheek.

With what felt like superhuman effort she dragged herself upright. At least here she had her own shower. And clean towels. Squeezing past the wall of hair she made it to the kitchen, draped her coat and bag over the back of a chair and spotted the note on the table:

Walked Niebieski. Soup in fridge. Glad you are safe.

Edith & George

She blinked back more tears. The elderly couple next door were an absolute godsend.

Ok. Shower. Soup. Stupid movie to prevent too much thought. Could maybe make some popcorn. That was a plan.

She did like a plan.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

The pool slid closed overhead and Scott allowed himself a few moments to sit back and breathe before regrouping and running through the comfortingly routine process of post-flight checks. His shoulder twinged sharply and that itchy trickling sensation reminded him that steristrips were no match for the physicality of flying a supersonic jet.

His vision lurched as her voice came back to him and he desperately focussed on grounding himself. He could hear the creaking of cooling engines, feel the harness over his shoulders, the seat beneath and around him. Wait, something else was off too. Something was pressing uncomfortably into his hip… he leaned to the side to extract the item from his baldric. A tiny Thunderbird 2 looked up from his palm, accusingly. His hand shook and the toy dropped, hitting the deck far below with a distant ping.

He stared down into the abyss.

Virgil was right. It wasn’t safe. HE wasn’t safe. If he couldn’t trust his mind to stay on track then he couldn’t be trusted. How could he keep his brothers safe from the world when he couldn’t even keep them safe from himself?

He tightened his fingers around the levers, every inch of the ship’s controls so familiar it was like an extension of his own limbs. Closer to him than his flight suit in a way. One was a part of him. IR was a part of him. Maybe the majority part. Certainly the best part.

If he couldn’t do this… then…

No. He shouldn’t think like that. He just needed more time. He flicked the switch to extend the chair and took a purposeful step down on to the gantry.

He had an apology to deliver.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Virgil looked down at his twitching, sleeping brother and fought back the urge to bear hug him and never let go. There had been plenty of those earlier. Scott begging for forgiveness he didn’t need. Virgil and John trying to reassure him, their words seeming so powerless and both desperately hoping that holding him tight could somehow piece their hero back together.

He hadn’t expected the honesty. That was new.

Scott had looked Virgil in the eye and told him he was right. He wasn’t ready, he wasn’t safe, he wasn’t ok. Virgil had shaken his head, denying the words he’d said over and over this last week. He didn’t want to be right. It was too painful. It wasn’t fair.

But Scott had been adamant - he was grounding himself for another fortnight. He needed time to process. Something had triggered him, he acknowledged that much, but he wasn’t ready to talk about it yet. He’d lowered his eyes and quietly asked if they wouldn’t mind staying with him because he didn’t want to be alone.

As if he could stop them.

And so the six of them crowded into the lounge in a nest of blankets, fluffy cushions and rogue bits of popcorn. Scott had sagged against Virgil’s shoulder and passed out not half an hour into the film. John curled on big brother’s other side, if he was asleep it was likely with one eye open. Allie and Gordon were a tangle of limbs on the floor while Kayo dozed with her head atop the pile.

They’d get through this together as they always had. As Virgil watched, Scott sighed in his sleep and his face relaxed. He was here and he was safe. Hopefully tonight the nightmares would leave him in peace.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Estera braced her feet and shoulders against the splintering wood and bit through her lip as she tried to remain silent despite the terror of the world tilting and sliding. The rumble of aircraft engines filled her head to the point where she wondered if she could even remember any other sound. But she knew where she was. This was to be expected. It would end soon. It had to.

The unsecured packing crate slammed into something again, her head rebounding painfully off the inside and she was consumed by nausea. The tiniest sob escaped and she froze. With a click the lid was opened and blinding light flooded into her streaming eyes as she tried to focus on the figure leaning towards her. It was him! Was she saved? Was she safe?

No.

Dread filled every cell of her body. Vivid blue eyes looked down at her but they were unseeing. A dark line ran from the corner of his mouth and then red, sickly gleaming red was everywhere. His blood was everywhere and it was her fault. His body fell heavily on top of her and the lid was slammed shut and she screamed for help until her throat burned.

Nobody came.

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[youmixxx]

This is a small contribution to @kaitopitoo and @othervio ‘s FS vampire AU! The story immediately starts after the plot of Kaito’s comic. I’ve been greatly inspired by this AU and just needed to write a little something. Kaito has also created a few drawings related to this fic, and it is just such a great honor! I had a lot of fun writing this fic and I hope you guys enjoy it as well!  Read the fic on Ao3 or underneath the marker! Thank you so much to the AU creators for allowing me to participate! :)

“Go find Green and Vio. I’ll stay with him.”

“Huh–” It didn’t occur to Blue right away that what Red demanded of him was probably close to a death wish, but when it did, it struck Blue like lightning. Leaving Red alone with a vampire?! Sure, they were all capable fighters in their own right. Still, Vio, as well as Green, were living proof that alone by themselves, they were nothing but weak meat sacks against a starving vampire. They couldn’t be trusted. It was a call for disaster. “H-Hey! Are you out of your goddamn mind?! I’m not just leaving you alone with him! Mind you, he was feasting on a dead animal! What do you think he will do to you once you’re alone with him? You remember what he did to Green and Vio, right?!”

Red turned towards him with a gentle, comforting smile, unfazed by his ranting. “Sure, I remember all that. But… What if what Vio said was true?” he offered softly, lowering his rod that was loosely resting in his hand. “I mean, just look at him! If he really posed a danger to us, why would he rather eat from an animal’s corpse rather than go on a hunt in the nearby villages?”

“Because he knows what awaits him when he gets caught! He’ll get killed. That’s why! That doesn’t stop him from jumping at the next closest opportunity when he gets it.”

“Still… Vio trusts him.” Red’s eyes lowered to where Shadow was still cowering on the floor, hunched over, hand pressed to his face in a vain attempt to stop his supposed meal from leaving his body, shaking and convulsing in a way that made Blue’s own guts constrict from nausea. “And we trust Vio, so… why can’t you trust him?” 

Blue released a disdainful grunt in response, turning away from the scene and vigorously refusing to have his better half scratched by this pitiful sight, his consciousness stirred. As pathetic as this whole situation was, he couldn’t let it influence him. What if this was a ploy? What if he lured them into believing he was defenseless and entirely at their mercy? Vampires couldn’t be trusted. They were the enemy, vicious, disgusting things that could mess with their minds, break bodies and alter their perception in order to suck the life out of them like humongous ticks. They were nothing more than evil reshaped in its most devious form, a stain upon this holy land that belonged to their grace Zelda. That was why they became hunters and devoted their whole life to–erasing these pests from the earth’s surface. It was their duty, their calling. And suddenly, everything they had believed until this point was supposed to be what? Nothing but a lie?

“Have you forgotten about the oath we swore?” Blue hissed back, facing Red again, the grip on his sword so tight it made the leather of his handle churn angrily from the abuse. “<i>We</i> are hunters, Red. It is <i>our</i> job to kill the likes like him. We should take and kill him as we speak! And you want to reason with me about trust?!”

“Blue…” 

“Vio threw away our trust when he decided to return to this pest! He-!”

“But what if he is right?! What if they aren’t what we think they are? What do we really know about them apart from what Zelda told us?” Red countered sharply, his eyes fierce with determination. “Oath or not, you can’t deny that this whole thing is not adding up anymore! If Shadow is the killer we take him for, why is Vio still alive? Why is Green still alive? Why is he drinking the blood of a decaying animal? Don’t you at least think it’s strange that none of our expectations about vampires have been met yet?” 

Blue grit his teeth, shaking his head furiously in denial. “Even so, Zelda’s words stand above everything-!”

“Forget about Zelda’s words and look for yourself!” Red stepped aside, gesturing at the pitiful pile of misery still moaning and wheezing in agony. “Does this look like a dangerous killer to you?!” 

This time, Blue couldn’t find it within himself to argue, for one, because he knew he was in the wrong to agree and, maybe, just maybe, a part of him wanted to doubt, wanted to believe what Vio said to be true. But he couldn’t. It spoke against his principles, against every fiber of his being that had spent sweat, blood, and tears into becoming a hunter, becoming Zelda’s extension to execute her will. Allowing himself to doubt was a betrayal beyond fixing, a stab in the back to his queen, comrades, and himself. It just couldn’t be… if only he had enough evidence, enough proof to justify this. 

Evidence. Proof. Vio’s word couldn’t be trusted, not with him being the only person around Shadow and staying alive. He could be brainwashed, manipulated, or something along those lines. However, one judgment he could trust–his own. So if he stayed behind and remained alive as well… perhaps that could sway his opinion. 

“Fine then,” Blue sighed, his features softening while remaining sharp and focused. “You go find the others. I’ll stay here.” The smaller man’s eyes widened in surprise.

“B-But-”

“I’ll see for myself how harmless he really is…and how much the bookworm’s judgment is worth. And, if things go south after all, I can buy us more time than you can. We both know I’m stronger. Now go.” Red seemed like he wanted to object, his mouth opening, the look in his eyes indecisive. But despite all this, he remained quiet, closed his mouth again, and gave Blue a meaningful nod before quickly skipping into a sprint back to town. Blue’s attentive gaze followed him until he disappeared behind the trees and shrubs, and the sound of steps lost itself in the distance. Only the airy wheezes of the vampire before him remained, him still dealing with the aftermath the foul drink had caused, but now calm enough to grace him with a spiteful stare from below under painfully slow and controlled breaths. 

“You should have followed your friend….” Shadow groaned, his hand reaching up to wipe off the remains running down his chin. 

Blue’s eyes narrowed. “Is that a threat, scum?!”

“No.” Blue would have taken it as a lie if it hadn’t sounded so annoyed and strangely nonchalant. “... you’re just wasting your time.”

“I wonder if you’ll say the same once we have you tied to the stake and burnt just like the rest of your cursed kin.”

The corners of Shadow’s mouth moved up to a crooked smile, but it appeared sadder than… amused. “I can’t say it enough… but killing me is pointless.” 

“Is that what you told Vio as well?” Blue scoffed. “I’d be shocked if this was all the convincing he needed to believe you. And here I thought he was the smart one.”

“He <i>is</i> the smart one,” Shadow insisted, pushing himself up slowly. Blue pulled the tip of his sword forward, ready to strike at any given time should he decide to attack. He intently watched his every move, every little twitch of a muscle. However, despite his expectation, he remained peaceful, not moving rapidly. “He immediately understood that slaughtering my people served nothing other than that supposed savior king’s wicked fantasy. And that bitch of a queen on the throne right now is no better. She is but the mere image of her father’s insanity.”

“How-!” Of course. Tarnishing the mighty king’s and Zelda’s name suited a vampire just right. Blue’s anger flared with newfound fuel, and he thrust the sword forward as a warning. “Don’t you even dare say her grace’s name!” Completely unfazed, Shadow moved the blade aside with a swift brush of his hand, his expression remaining unnervingly neutral, pushing Blue further into defensiveness, expecting something underhanded to happen any second now. Vampires were known to be unpredictable. But no worries. If he wound up dead, his friends would know what to do and take out that monster once and for all. He’d gladly take it if all it took to clear the fronts was his sacrifice. 

“Your queen means nothing to me. She is an heir to a bloody throne, nothing else. Protect her all you want, and praise her name. She will always be a murderer.” 

“She? A murderer?!” Blue spat, infuriated, his arms shaking from adrenaline. “It was you! You and your cursed kin! Don’t you think we’ve already forgotten what you did to us, all the innocent people you slaughtered like pigs!” 

Another exhausted sigh. “You mortals are so quick to forget… But I guess it’s easier to put the blame on others, isn’t it?”

“What are you saying, filth? The blame for what?!” 

“You said we murdered your people, but you completely ignore that it all started with your people, not mine,” Shadow explained. “It was you who attacked us first, not us. You wanted us gone while we were just trying to get around. It was you who invaded our land and took everything away that once belonged to us. That doesn’t sound very fair, does it?”

“That’s-” Blue swallowed heavily, unable to wrap his head around what the vampire was trying to convey. Was it supposed to be their fault? Nonsense! Lies. Just more lies. He wasn’t going to fall for it. He wouldn’t be as naive as Vio! “-That’s a fucking lie! We never-!”

“That’s what your precious Zelda wants you to believe–that it’s all lies. Do you know what else she wants you to believe? That she has a claim to this land, that it’s hers. It had never been her land. It’s the land of my people, the land your kin invaded under the savior king. But it was never an invasion, right? It was but an attempt to save everyone, even though there was nothing to save, to begin with. But it sounds better to suggest your ancestors saved everyone from the evil vampires instead of saying that you murdered vampires for the sake of murdering them.”

“Shut up-!”

“Because that’s what you did, what your precious king wanted. He wanted us all dead-”

“Shut up—!” 

“And now that bitch of a queen is continuing on her legacy of killing and more killing and justifying it as saving-”

“SHUT UP—!” Unable to contain his anger any longer, Blue drew his sword up before bringing it back down with a powerful slash. His blade met little to no resistance as the body in front of him seemed to tear apart into black shreds, recollecting and reassembling tiny, leathery wings and dashing past his face in a rush of cold wind and ear-piercing shrieks. He spun quickly, catching Shadow staring back at him from arm’s length, wholly unharmed and hardly impressed. 

“Don’t,” the vampire warned, his tone flat. “I told you it’s pointless to fight me.”

“As if I’m going to listen to a pest like you!” Blue lashed out once more with a grunt, but again the vampire dispersed into the air and swished past him, his blade singing menacingly as it connected with the ground.

<i>Curse this—!</i> 

Tempting his luck, Blue blindly threw the sword around himself in a circle, letting the weight of the steel carry his body as he smoothly turned with the move. Still, the other saw it coming immediately and dodged again, reappearing a few steps away in his field of vision. Blue gritted his teeth in frustration as he regained his balance, pulling the sword in front of his body like a shield. “You–! Stop messing around! Fight me honorably, coward!” 

“Honorably?” Shadow mocked, his fangs flashing against the stark light of the moon under his mildly amused grin. “In which way is it honorable to die for a genocidal maniac and his offspring?” Blue’s blood roared with fury, his arms shaking violently from how tightly he was clutching his weapon, teeth bared, his jaw tense. This disgusting low-life just couldn’t stop. To hell with waiting. He would no longer listen to this preposterousness. He would finish this abomination here and now. No one called his queen and the mighty king names like that! 

“That’s it–!” Completely blinded by rage and stripped of all caution, Blue charged forward, tempting his fate and slashing at the vampire in a storm of dancing silver. Each move was controlled and focused, his feet like ankers against the ground while his upper half floated from stance to stance. He had been training for this day since he was little, spent sleepless nights perfecting each little move, each twitch of a muscle. It would all come to use now, and he would give it his all. Serve his queen. Serve this land and its people. All that devotion he had put into his body to fulfill his calling. Everything, he would do everything to meet his purpose, that which he had sworn himself into–even if it cost him his life. 

But it only did so little when his opponent ran past his grasp like ink dripping through his fingers like he was trying to cut down a wafty curtain dancing in the wind. Shadow shifted into his semi-present state, where he could evade the blade’s sharp edge, but Blue found confidence in the knowledge that it couldn’t go on like this forever. At some point, the vampire had to grow tired, weakened, and thirsty from the start, but so could he. The question was, who would give in first?

“Quit– it–!” Blue hissed through clenched teeth, his head spinning as he tried to focus on the black shreds before him, not stopping his furious assault. “You can’t dodge forever! Might as well give up now!” In response, the shreds collected to bats again and wildly began to circle around Blue’s head, tiny claws picking at his hair, tearing his collar and scarf, and obscuring his vision. “<i>Hngh–!</i> Damn it!” It did what it was supposed to do. Blue fell out of rhythm to instead wave and slap at the tiny creatures distracting him. He stumbled away in a rush. Shadow used the opportunity to gain distance and reappear again, his expression mere annoyance rather than the possibility of fear. 

“Stop this nonsense….” Shadow groaned, struggling to stand upright, a little slouch to his stance. “You’ll achieve nothing out of this.”

“Why stop?” Blue panted heavily, smoothly flinging his sword through his hand as he pointedly stepped forth once more. “I’m only getting started.”

Shadow’s gaze darkened. “Believe me, you don’t want me to hurt you. So don’t make me.”

“I’m not scared of you.” Taking a deep breath, Blue lifted his blade purposefully, eyes sharp. “You can threaten me all you want. I’m not running away. You’ve caused far too much trouble already, hurt people, hurt my friends, brainwashed Vio into believing your vicious lies, and stained my queen’s name! I have to put an end to this. I’m not leaving until I put you out of your miserable existence!” 

Blue’s arms extended out wide as he built up momentum for another strike as he dashed forward, mouth torn open to release the roar humming against the back of his throat. He brought the sword down fast, and, this time, Shadow did not budge, almost as if accepting his fate. That was it! He had him! <i>He had him!</i> However, before the steel could connect, there was a flash of black, and Blue felt the hilt of his sword being torn out of his grasp, followed by a sharp sting running along his upper right arm. 

“<i>Ack–!<i>” The force with which his sword had been sent flying caused his body to helplessly tilt to the side. He managed to brace himself, skipping to stop, and watched bitterly as his sword landed a good few feet away from him, throwing up dust and dirt as it landed with a shattering sound. <i>For fuck’s sake-!</i>. His left hand shot up as the slight sting turned into a full-fleshed burn, feeling the rough edges of his torn shirt and something warm and moist collecting in his palm. A small inconvenience. Blue had had a couple of injuries before. That little cut wouldn’t hinder him much. However, it didn’t quite occur to Blue just yet that this small inconvenience, in addition to him being without any protection, had just so created a mixture of disaster. The reality of it only struck him when he looked back at Shadow, his pupils dilated, any kind of expression melting from his features as something primal seemed to take hold of him. His hollow gaze fixated on Blue, pinning him down securely like an archer with his target, the blue of his iris slowly fading to a vibrant ruby red. No thoughts laid behind those eyes, only an intense hunger that needed to be quenched and a maliciousness that promised an agonizing death. 

The blood… he could smell it. 

“... I beg you….” Shadow’s voice was distant, a desperate call from a faraway place. “Run….” 

Blue hadn’t been scared before, but seeing the other detach himself like this, letting his instincts take over, he couldn’t help but let his ego fall and feel the dread grow in his chest. This wasn’t just fun and games anymore. This was serious. 

“... leave….”

The hand around his arm clutched the wound tighter despite the pain, almost as if he was hoping it would keep the smell away, but he knew better than to believe that. Nothing could hide the scent of a vampire’s most precious fluid, especially not a starving one. 

“... just… leave, please…!” Blue quickly searched for his sword in the distance, finding it glistening in the moonshine, too far away for his liking but still close enough if he just made it there fast enough. The rigid grip of fear let loose enough for him to slowly move backward, mentally hoping that Shadow would keep himself together until he made it there. Nothing rash now. Otherwise, this would end quickly and… very messily. 

“Blood….” Blue swallowed heavily, nervously glancing between the vampire slowly unraveling before his eyes and the sword that, with a lot of luck, might save him. He could run, but to what avail? There was no running away from a vampire. He would get to him faster than he could scream for help. “Blood… I– need blood–!” 

<i>Shit… shit!</i> Only a little further. He almost had it! 

“... I need it…. I need it! I need it– NOW!” 

There was no time. Blue took a leap for it and dashed. It was either waiting for demise or taking the risk of turning his back and maybe saving his sorry ass. He couldn’t count on the others. Knowing his luck, they weren’t even close. It began as a one-on-one, and it would end as such–and he was on the short end of it. How short, he would witness right away because he didn’t get far before two arms pulled him right back, clinging to his body strong and unyielding like iron chains, hands clawing at his chest, daring him to try and resist. His collar was yanked off forcefully, cotton ripping, exposing his neck to the cold air. 

But the frigid touch of nature wouldn’t last long. What first felt like a nasty prick instantly turned to an overwhelming pain that had every single fiber of his body vibrate in resonance as the vampire pierced through his skin, sinking his fangs mercilessly into his neck. Venom quickly burned through his veins, raw and hot, a scream erupting from his lungs as it took hold of him, forcing him into submission and stunning him momentarily. But, for the smallest of frames, his self-preservation began to take over, and Blue struggled against his captor, leeching off of him with fierce determination. 

“Let go–!” Blue brought out breathlessly, pushing against the arms around him, jerking and twisting, tilting his head back and forth, anything to free himself. But Shadow stayed persistent, too entranced by his meal and having every means to continue feasting. 

“Re-lease— me!” 

Then, Blue managed to reach around himself and get his hand on Shadow’s face. Without thinking, he got a fist full of Shadow’s hair and yanked as hard as possible. It showed effect as Shadow tore his mouth open in a howl of pain, and Blue used the disturbance to shove him off for good. Blue stumbled forward, nearly kissing the floor without the other’s strong hold, and ran for his sword. He picked it up with shaky hands, righting himself and ignoring the pulsing sensation along his side and the hot stream of blood running over his neck and shoulder. His stance was wobbly, unsteady, his legs heavy like cement, the rush of adrenaline making his head spin. The image of Shadow, standing there with this dumbfounded, almost shocked expression on his face, tilted dangerously from side to side. For a second, he was convinced he would charge at him again like before, but instead, he just stayed put, eyes strangely clear, his mania barely present any longer. Had he drunk enough to be sane again? Or had the sudden disturbance beaten it back into him? Whatever it was, it gave Blue enough time to steady himself–and make one last attempt. 

This wasn’t over yet. 

“... you… filthy pest–!” 

His sword weighed a ton as Blue strenuously lifted it over his head for a swing. One step, barely a second step, and suddenly, his body turned numb, his legs giving in, his sword leaving his loose grip, and he tilted forward, completely at the mercy of earth’s unyielding gravity. The ground wouldn’t quite embrace him yet as he felt a strong pull, something, whatever it was, holding him up in the air, causing his useless meat shell to hover. His vision swam from dizziness, white and black blotches dancing before his eyes. If it hadn’t been for his mind still rioting from panic and his sheer will to survive, he would have long surrendered to whatever was sucking the energy from his bones. But he was still there, he was scrambling, kicking… maybe. He wasn’t sure if he was still resisting. He had to fight somehow. He couldn’t die like this. He just couldn’t die like this! So undignified, so exposed, so shamefully. This couldn’t be the end yet…

<i>I can’t… I can’t die… Leave me! Leave me be–!</i>

“You won’t die….” Blue heard a strange echo through his detaching mind. “Please… stop resisting. I don’t want to hurt you more than I have to. Please stop… I- I’m just so thirsty.” 

Blue’s vision cleared a little, and he realized he was facing the sky, half laying half leaning against something or someone, gentle hands holding him, cold hands, but so incredibly gentle, on his arm, as they brushed back his hair. 

“It’s okay. You’ll be okay. Just… don’t resist me.” 

The anxious voice in his chest told Blue not to listen, but a part of him wanted to believe that strange, comforting echo. Don’t resist… What was he actually resisting? His head felt pleasantly empty. What was there to resist?

“... please forgive me.” 

Through the numbness, Blue felt his body twitch violently, a familiar sensation running through him, one that should have alerted him right away. Still, he couldn’t find it within himself anymore to care, not with how fast his head and body seemed to shut down. The only things that remained were a foreign cold, a burn against his neck, and the mesmerizing sight of the moon against the blackened sky. 

…

Some time might have passed. Blue remembered someone calling his name, but whatever followed ran through his head like water through a sieve. 

-

“... Hey.” 

The swishing of the curtain surrounding his bed had already become too familiar, a sound that–despite being quiet–always managed to unpleasantly pull him out of his semi-delirious state. Reality and sleep still seemed to fade into one another. It was hard to tell whether he was truly awake, grasping what was happening around him, or simply swimming in yet another vivid fever dream immediately forgotten as soon as this unfamiliar soreness crept back into his sense of self. He became awfully aware of the dull ache flaring along the curve of his neck and felt himself groan internally from resignation. 

He felt it now, quite prominently so. Therefore, the small ball of light slowly closing in from the foot of his bed had to be real, and so was Vio’s calm form taking shape behind the candle’s soft glow. Vio, huh? Maybe he was dreaming after all. Whenever would Vio come to visit him? 

“How are you feeling?” Blue idly watched through half-lidded eyes as Vio gently placed the candle on his nightstand before slowly sinking down on an empty spot on the bed, the mattress shifting ever so slightly under his weight, sending waves of strain through his entire form despite all the caution. His gaze was mild, analyzing, and also sort of expectant in a way. It took Blue a moment to realize that what Vio had said to him had most certainly been a question, one he would probably expect an answer to. He ended up juggling it through his head repeatedly to make some sense of it. 

“... how do you think I’m feeling?” His voice was rough, throat still sore from screaming, most likely, and lack of moisture, but the message came across, forcing a light chuckle from the other. 

“Can’t be too terrible if you manage to be sassy about it. Though, I have a suspicion.” A light way to say that he had a decent idea of how he was feeling, having been there before, if not multiple times by now. Blue could only wonder why one would volunteer to undergo this over and over again. It was far from pleasant the first time, and he greatly doubted it would get better the more frequently it happened. Frankly speaking, the circumstances hadn’t been ideal for him, and he didn’t necessarily contribute to making it easier on himself. Oh well, he was smarter now, which didn’t mean he was keening for another go. And definitely not now anyway. He was fine just being alive. “Can you sleep alright?” 

“It comes and goes, but it’s far from restful,” Blue replied honestly under a long sigh, letting his head fall to the side to watch Vio reach for his drinking cup while pulling a brown, ominous bottle from his belt. The liquid pouring into the cup looked like ink against the candlelight, viscous in its quality and harboring a strange, sweet smell. “What’s this?”

“I’m not entirely familiar with all its contents, but it’ll help you recover faster,” Vio explained casually, stopping the bottle again. “Shadow gave me something similar when he first bit me.” Reaching down, Vio looped his arm around Blue’s shoulders and carefully lifted him up into a sitting position. Even though he tried his best to cooperate, the urge to succumb to the dizziness and soreness and flop right back into the sheets was strong. So, in the end, most of the workload was on Vio despite his efforts, leaving Blue shamefully resting against his side to brace himself as he couldn’t trust his body to hold him upright, shaking like a leaf as the warm embrace of his blanket slipped off his shoulders. Vio was thankfully foreseeing enough to not let go of him and held the cup steady for him as he had barely any strength in his hand to hold it by himself, shaking with the hardship of lifting it up to his mouth. Unlike the smell suggested, the drink wasn’t particularly sweet but herby and overwhelmingly fruity and sour, like someone had boiled a whole tree of apples down and combined it into this syrupy, goopy sludge. 

He had difficulties swallowing all of it, but Vio’s persistence made him finish it despite the distaste. 

“... nasty…” Blue exhaled harshly, feeling the drink annoyingly clinging to the back of his throat. 

“I know,” Vio said with empathy in his eyes as he lowered the cup. “But it helps, I assure you.” He waited briefly, studying Blue’s posture with finical precision before slowly pulling his arm away, making sure he sat steady enough without his aid, which he did. But he was still shaking mercilessly. “Are you cold?” 

“Very….” Not needing further words, Vio reached for the blanket draped over the foot of Blue’s bed and laid it over his shoulders, wrapping him up securely to shield him from the relatively cool ambient but knowing awfully well that it probably did nothing short of an improvement. Nevertheless, Blue could still appreciate the gesture. His eyes darted back to the bottle. A strange shape, kind of dated. “Did Shadow give this to you?” 

“Uhm–” Vio needed to follow his gaze briefly to follow his trail of thought. “Oh, yes. It’s from him.”

“Did you meet him?”

“I did. Or, well, tried to would be a better way to call it.” Blue raised a brow at the remark, causing Vio to act sourly. “He– is keeping himself covered. He hardly ever leaves his place, to begin with, but he thinks it’s best if we keep our distance for now.” 

“Sounds like it bothers you….” The look in Vio’s eyes was empty as he met Blue’s eyes briefly. It lasted a couple of seconds, silently conveying the conflicting feelings of the other before he averted his gaze entirely. 

“He feels very guilty for what he did to you, Blue. It rarely happens to him that he snaps like this. At least, that’s what he said,” he sighed in defeat. “From what I’ve witnessed, he is perfectly able to control his urges… but I guess he fears he could do the same to me now, and that’s why he doesn’t want me around.” Vio seemed to notice that his tone conveyed guilt, and he chewed the inside of his cheek in an immediate response, attempting a different explanation. “Don’t get me wrong, what happened to you was unforgivable. He shouldn’t have done it-”

“But he still did.”

“But it wasn’t a conscious choice he made,” Vio quickly intervened sharply. “That’s who he is. He is a vampire. He needs blood to survive, and if he was starving the way he described it, he would have jumped anyone nearby if they had been bleeding.” Blue pondered on this statement for a bit, recalling the memories from that night, that divisiveness between that feral being inside of him that thirsted for a drink and his consciousness trying to relent. Even though he hadn’t seen it back then, he knew now that nothing could have prevented this from happening. And, to be frank, he also did nothing to detain the inevitable and instead played right into Shadow’s claws. It was meant to happen, and, all circumstances considered, he sure could call himself lucky that Shadow had been sane enough to not kill him within the skirmish. 

“... I know that,” he finally uttered, canting his head slowly. 

“What?” 

“I know he didn’t have a choice. Nobody with the benefit of choice begs you to run away from them,” Blue explained, meeting Vio’s eyes firmly. “And they certainly don’t apologize for what they did if they willingly committed themselves to it.��� 

“You…” Vio appeared startled upon the reveal, mouth agape in a lack of fitting words. 

“I’m not a fool, Vio. He knew what was coming and he wanted to prevent it from happening. If he had every intention of biting me and killing me in the process, why would he do that? It doesn’t make sense.”

“So…” Vio finally closed his mouth, his expression hardening. “You believe me when I say he is… not what we think he is?” Believe. It might be a harsh term to mention, not after everything he had believed about vampires had been shattered to pieces. But, with what he had just witnessed and what he had gone through, it was easier to accept this reality as a given. It wasn’t all black and white, vampires evil, Zelda good. He understood that now. But what was truly right? He wasn’t so sure. 

“I– honestly don’t know what to believe,” Blue responded sincerely, taking a sharp inhale, his head growing heavy on his shoulders. “I mean, Zelda must have her reasons for wanting vampires dead and gone. And she isn’t heartless either. It’s a fact that many of Shadow’s kin have killed Hylians before, ruthlessly so. Whether it was self-defense in the end or not doesn’t matter. However, it doesn’t justify punishing someone for… what they are, or does it? And, if what Shadow said carries any value, vampires and the likes like us could live together. So why all this now?” Vio nodded vigorously, seemingly sharing the same ideas as him. It wasn’t easy to see this through, but given their current situation, it wouldn’t get easier either, not when the broad mass was convinced of the bad and evil that vampires resembled. One thing Blue was sure of, however, was that Shadow wasn’t at fault. If anything, he just tried to survive… just like they did. 

“When you meet him again,” Blue added after a long pause. “Tell him he is forgiven. But- I’d rather not have him near me as of now. Not that I’ll be going anywhere any time soon… though… ugh–!” The longer he sat, the more he felt his energy leave him, his body wobbly and unsteady. His hand already shot up to hold himself up on Vio’s shoulder, the other clutching the side of his face as his head started to throb and his ears sang with white noise. Vio was alerted before he could even voice what was wrong and got his hands on him before he could tilt to the sides. 

“Shit… ‘m light-headed….”

“I know. Come on, lay down. I got you. Easy now.” The pillow swallowed his head as Vio gently lowered him back down, his limbs heavy like stone bricks against the mattress. Sinking, sinking… his body just constantly sank without stopping. Blue carefully blinked his eyes open, the haze of dizziness settling again, Vio hovering over him as he tugged the additional blanket in place, making sure to wrap him up tightly. It was probably a wasted effort because Blue was still unpleasantly cold, but just having his body tugged in and pulled together like this was quite comforting. “Get some rest. Red will look after you in the morning.” 

“I’ll try….” Blue hummed, closing his eyes as his eyelids grew heavy instantly. “Just… don’t do anything stupid.” There was a noise of confusion, and he attempted an explanation but was already drifting off into the abyss that was his wildly deteriorating sub-consciousness. A part of him was worried about Vio. Even though he could understand his motivation better now, he also understood the danger that came with it. Vio was the type to settle things by himself. And if he had learned one thing in the past, it never ended well. 

He could only hope that Vio–smart and foreseeing as often claimed–was indeed smart enough to see that this was an affair that he couldn’t fix by himself. Not this time. 

-

[hawkinsbestmom]

“I don’t want to talk about it.” (For Joyce perhaps?)

Joyce looked at the kid, well young man really, in front of her. It wasn't hard to see the pain behind those eyes, one of them bruised badly. With a sigh she got up, she wouldn't push him to talk. She quietly went into the kitchen, grabbing a bag of frozen peas and a glass of water, before she want back to him and sitting in front of him again, pushing the frozen peas against his eyes. She has been in this situation she knew this situation... She felt bad for not having seen it beforehand. "You don't have to talk to me, Billy. I understand." She whispered softly, hoping to be the safe haven he needed, even if it was just for a little while.

[ecoxlar-arts]

And miraculously, a door opens

As his vision becomes the different shades of dark that make up the abandoned dark alley, the child wonders if his short life was over. He had no one who would look for him, no one to care. He didn't want this to be it. He wanted to have a birthday to celebrate, he wanted to have one of those pillow fights he had heard someone talk about, he wanted to know where he was. He hoped someone would find him, kind or otherwise. Either way, this would end. He felt numb. A square light appeared in his vision, and as quickly as he saw it, his vision went completely dark.

[mybeautifulbeautifuleternal]

They had made a game out of it. They’d let you go, unlock your door and highlight a path that led directly outside, and you’d run. It didn’t matter how many times it had happened before, you always ran. You had to keep the faint hope that maybe this time you’d get away. You were getting better, faster, stronger.

But then again, so was Brock.

No matter what — it was always Brock who’d find you, who’d hunt you down and catch you. Time after time after time. You might be learning to run and hide but he was learning how to hunt and capture — and kill. It wasn’t you yet but you knew it would be eventually.

Maybe even this time.

It had been away since you’d seen the outside of the facility and it even looked like they’d moved you during your time of unconsciousness. The stars looked wrong and the path they’d given you to take was completely new and confusing. Still, you ran. You pulled out every trick you’d ever learned, every scrap of knowledge to be had — you used it. Something that could be considered hope was rising within you. There was light in front of you — and it was the harsh buzz of an electric light, not just the moon and stars shining above you.

He was silent and swift and strong when he tackled you right on the edge of the clearing. Your hands were inches from the mowed grass of the well kept yard that represented your freedom but Brock was a solid weight on top of you, one of his hands collaring your throat and one silencing your breath, heavy and sure across your mouth.

“Almost got away, huh? Did you really think I’d ever let you go? Sweetheart, it’s like you’ve not learned a thing this last few years,” Brock’s voice was deep and you felt it rumble more than you heard it. As he was talking, he was slowly bringing you both to your knees, still tight against your back, looming over you even on the ground. You tried to fight him off — scratching at both of his hands, trying to kick your legs free, screaming through the rough palm locked across the lower half of your face — but he had you completely pinned against him and wasn’t shy about squeezing the hand located on your neck. When he felt your struggles finally settled, Brock leaned down to whisper against the side of your head, a secret for just the two of you.

“I’m alway going to find you. I’m always going to catch you. And I’m always going to keep you.”

@summer-of-whump @nekoannie-chan