#when they took away footprints i sobbed cried and screamed. i was like WHERE ARE THEIR LITTLE PAWS....

[identityquest]

ive been playing a lot of pokemon-like games lately to search for something new to fill the void of the desire to collect creatures... so many games show so much promise but there's always something holding them back. it's usually just like one thing and i cant get too mad bc a lot of them are either extremely inexpensive or outright free. but it sucks to be playing a game thats otherwise solid only for it to suck bc like, the writing is abysmal or the gameplay loop is miserable. the most egregious thing ive encountered in a lot of these games is the lack of a robust bestiary. like thats the main reason i played pokemon and stuck with it, when prof rowan asked me to research for him i took that seriously 😭 i want to know abt the animals please for the love of god give me a description, a habitat range some fun facts. please

[i-wanna-die-like-now]

Day 13: Stiches!

So I decided to add a short fix for this prompt because I couldn't draw my idea in a day.

Jazz moved down the stairs slowly, almost robotically, if she was more aware of her surroundings maybe she would have noticed she was getting the blood from her hands all over the clean walls that she used for support or that the blood that covered her clothes was dripping onto the steps and soaking into her socks leaving bloody footprints after her. But she didn't notice, her mind had shut down and detached from her body, it had been that way for a while now. She knew what it meant and she knew it was in response to- she knew what it was in response to. 

It's for the better.

She tells herself as she finally reaches the bottom of the stairs. 

It'll be easier.

Jazz couldn't tell if she actually believed that or was just trying to comfort herself, nothing about the situation was easy. 

The living room is empty, it took her a while to notice the TV playing the end credits to the film her parents had clearly just finished. Their small chatter drifted out of the kitchen, it made her feel sick that they sounded so happy, however, the laugh that burst out of her mother made something deeper churn in her chest. 

How dare she laugh after what she did. How could she still smile and act like nothing had happened? 

By the time Jazz reached the kitchen doorway her hands were shaking.

Her parents' screams sounded far away to her ears, Danny's screams echoed in her mind, his were far more haunting. The memory of his cries of pain and sobbing brought her attention back to her parents and the matter at hand. Their horrified faces morph into panic as they make a move to get closer, maybe they were trying to comfort her or maybe they thought she was injured. 

Jazz couldn't tell. 

It didn't matter. 

"Don't touch me." The words were odd on her tongue, heavy in her mouth, she wondered if she had even said them at all or if she had imagined it. It hadn't felt like she had but her parents' expressions and body language showed that she did in fact voice it, they were both pulled back like they had been slapped. 

Good. 

"Jazzy?" Her Da- Jack's usually booming voice was quiet and soft, timid. It didn't suit his large frame, but Jazz felt herself grow angry at that. A seething anger that pulled her mind back into the present, her body heaved in a huge breath and for the first time in the last three hours Jazz felt it. 

She suddenly felt hyper-aware of the blood that clung to her skin, her shirt was drenched and sticking to her frame in a way that made her feel sick. 

Just how much blood had Danny lost? How much did he lose before she found him? 

How much had he lost while they cut into him? 

A rough scream rips out of her throat, she felt it more than heard it. Her throat burned, it had been burning since her first scream of the night, at finding her brother- it was almost a relief for Jazz to be able to feel it again. Or it would have been if she also didn't have to feel the emotions that came with it.

All she could muster out was a broken "Don't fuck-ing call me that." She hates that her voice breaks, that she's showing them how vulnerable she feels. She needs to stand her ground. Slamming her hand against the doorframe Jazz lets out a sneer and puffs out her chest in mock confidence. 

"You don't have the right to call me that. Not anymore." As painful as it was, Jazz put one foot in front of the other and made her way to the lab's door, it was closed. 

It wasn't often the lab's door was closed, even when they had been building the portal it had usually stayed open, Jazz had spent months beating herself up for that after Danny's accident. The self-loathing doubled when she found out he had died. 

She was supposed to protect him. 

Without thinking too much into it Jazz rips open the door, she had to get rid of that stupid portal for good. Ignoring the shocked gasp from Jack and angry yelling from Maddie as she stares into the basement where her parents had spent her whole childhood. Where her parents had built the thing that killed her baby brother and made the weapons they used to hurt him. To catch him. To tie him down and-

The lights were off but that didn't matter because the portal was illuminating the lab. She made her way down the steps quickly only to be stopped by a tug on her arm. 

"Jazz! What do you think you're doing, it's dangerous, get back here!" Maddie's hand locked onto her and pulled her back, the blood that was soaked into her socks caused Jazz to slip and fall down the last few steps and out of her grasp.

"Jazz!" 

Maddie's voice sounded distorted to her ears as she took in the sight of the lab from the floor, the green glow lighting up the metal surfaces, the portal was closed. 

Her hand curled into a fist as the metal table that sat almost in the middle of the room came into focus, ectoplasm coated the surface and the tools they had used lay scattered on the ground. She could hear her parents talking but none of the words reached her. 

This is where they did it. 

"This is where you did it." 

Why? 

"Why."

"Jazz what are you talking about, come on let me help you get up, are you okay? You're covered in-in.." Jack trails off.

"Blood." She finishes for him. 

There had been so much blood, she hadn't know what to do. With that much, she knew the wound was too deep to leave alone, no matter how much he protested, no matter how much he tried to convince her he would "heal in no time". 

She didn't know what she had been expecting when she lifted his shirt, maybe a burn or a gash. 

Jack pulled her into his arms to help her stand, worry pulling on his features as Jazz stared ahead, her face drained of all colour. 

"Oh! Jazzy-pants don't you worry about that-" 

Danny's skin was cold, far too cold for what's considered normal for humans but he's half ghost so surely it's normal… surely that's a good thing his core is ice, maybe it was healing him- 

"You have to tell us what's going on, Jazz please talk to u-" 

She had a med kit under her bed, she had helped him out with plenty of injuries before so why was he being so reluctant to let her help-

"For god sake Jasmine!" 

Snapping her eyes over to Maddie Jazz takes a step back and then another, and another. 

She had came down here to get rid of the thing that killed her brother, she hadn't been expecting to see the evidence of what they had done to him laying out in plain sight. 

"You're evil, you- Fuck. How could you even do that to another living thing!" The confusion was clear on their faces but Jazz was already reaching for the Anti-Creep stick that was leaning against the wall, anger bubbling over. "You've always been this way, I don't know how I didn't see it sooner, I really should have. I should have known Danny wasn't safe to be around you, he was so sure that you would be okay with it in time." 

"Jazz what are you-" Jazz cuts Jack off as she slams the bat into one of the bazookas they had hanging up on display. The metal sparks and crashes to the ground drowning out her parents' screams of panic and surprise. 

"All these inventions." She lifts the bat above her head and swings it down to crush the rest of it. "Of course, he wasn't safe!" Her throat burned even more as her voice got louder. "He was never safe, I should have seen it years ago, oh god how couldn't I see it!" 

Jazz's voice borders on hysterical as she swings the bat again, this time breaking some beakers that were laying out. 

"You never cared for him, you never cared for me!" Voice breaking Jazz feels her tears boil over. 

"Jasmine! Stop it, what are you doing? Jack stop her!" Maddie's voice was tight as she ordered Jack. 

"Mads what am I-" 

"Fucking try!" Jazz screams over Jack, swinging the bat towards her father, her tears burn. 

"Jazz I can't, please just, I can't-" He looked so weak, his eyes were bloodshot and his eyelids looked weighed down. He needed to stay awake. 

"You have to try, god damn it Danny fucking try!" She was using a sewing needle, a fucking sewing needle, to sew him back together. It was bending. Her hands wont stop shaking. Pulling them back she wipes the blood off and onto her shirt quickly before getting back into position, using her fingers she pulls the skin together, wiping her hands did nothing. She redies the bent needle with her other hand.

Danny lets out a pained whimper as she forces the needle through his skin again, pulling it through the gaping wound on his stomach and pulling the thread tight. 

She can see his organs. 

She repeats the motion. 

Eyes wild and face pulled into a scowl she keeps the bat pointed at them. 

"You've spent your life on this lab, on your research!" She spits the word as if it were something disgusting. "That blood came from a living breathing person!" 

"Jazz please calm down, that's ectoplasm, it's not blood." Maddie uses a tone she does often, the condescending edge she gets whenever Jazz brings up the psychology of ghosts. "I assure you that no living thing was harmed." 

Although her hands were raised in a surrendering gesture she held herself confidently. 

Jazz's tongue felt heavy, her body boiling as her anger reached its peak, she didn't even think twice before swinging the bat at their other inventions. 

The inventions they made to harm her brother. 

The row of guns spark and crash as she beats them with the bat, lifting it above her head she forces it down again and again until she was sure they were unusable. 

"These always came first, your inventions or research or experiments!" After one last swing of the bat Jazz leans down and catches her breath, her voice breaking as she lowers it to a whisper. "Sometimes I wonder if you knew all along and were just toying with him." She looks over her shoulder, her parents' forms blurred by her tears. "and the sick part is I'm still not even sure." 

"Jazz honey what are you talking about? Please put the Anti-Creep stick down and talk to me, were your parents-" Jack has his arm out, reaching for her with a pained expression. 

"You were his parents too!" Jazz screeches. "Although parents is a reach, I was his parent! I raised him, I cooked for him! I held him at night when he had nightmares! I'm the one that had to fix him!" She couldn't see through her tears, she couldn't hear from the rushing of blood in her ears. The only thing she could see was her brother laying down as he sobbed, covered in blood and holding his own organs in with his hands while she took a sewing needle to his skin to stitch him back together. 

She wanted to rush back to him but first, she needed to destroy the rest of the lab, the portal. 

At least she would have if it wasn't for Jack wrapping his huge arms around her body and lifting her into the air. 

"Jazz please calm down, talk to us, you're not making any sense!" 

"Exactly Jasmine! You're spouting nonsense and destroying our work!" Maddie's voice cuts into her, it causes her chest to burn. Letting out an animalistic scream she kicks and thrashes around in Jack's arms. 

"You cut into him! You fucking monsters, your work killed him!" Jazz couldn't help the sob that tore its way out of her throat. "He thought you'd get better! He always had faith in you and you used that knife and ripped him open!" 

She could feel Jack go stiff, his arms loosening around her as he let out a puff of air. 

"I had to stitch him back together just like I've been stitching this family back together for years! Because that's exactly what I've been doing and I hate myself for it! If I didn't spend my life stitching everything together then maybe he wouldn't have died!" Finally, her thrashing caused her to be dislodged from Jack's arms, she made quick work of shoving him away and getting past her now pale mother and towards the portal. 

It only took a few perfectly aimed swings to render it useless.

"Jazzy-"

"He died trying to fix this portal for you." 

"Phantom he-" Maddie paused, looking over at Jazz with an expression she had never worn before. "He's a ghost honey-" Jazz's bitter laugh silenced both of them. 

"Half." 

She could tell by the horror on Jack's face that he understood, she knew Maddie did too. Maybe she was in denial. 

She needs to call Vlad, he would let them stay with him for a while if she explained the situation. 

"If you had even cared slightly about Danny you would have seen the signs, it didn't take me long to figure it out and I'm not a ghost expert." Jazz drops the bat on the ground, stepping over it to make her way back upstairs, ignoring the yells of her parents as she slams the lab door closed. Locking it for good measure. 

She feels the numbness of before washing over her as she picks up the house phone and dials Vlads number. 

[caretaker-au]

CHAPTER 10

Bright light spilled into Chara’s vision as the world manifested around them. Their body—heavy and fragile—struggled and dropped them to their knees.

As they fell forward Chara caught themselves with their hands. They stared out at their small, feeble fingers that were splayed on the lavender colored floor, each digit tipped with a dull, flat fingernail. Where were they? And what was that awful pounding sensation? They pulled a hand to their chest. That’s right. Their heart. No longer made from monster magic, Chara’s human flesh felt comparatively sluggish and dense. The body they were never supposed to return to. Chara crossed their arms and gripped themself tight. Fierce emotion flooded through their body: a touch of grief for their own death, relief for their survival, and most of all, rage.

“Asriel…” they breathed, their voice a shaking whisper, “How could you?”

After everything they had done, after all that they sacrificed for him, Asriel had betrayed them. Again. As he always had. It didn’t matter how hard Chara worked or how many timelines they chased, their wretched partner threw away everything they had to protect accursed humans. This time was the worst, however. Asriel’s betrayal ended in orchestrating a shared execution.

“You really hate me that much?” Chara’s voice was little more than a shaking growl. They wanted to scream, to declare that they wouldn’t allow it, that they would find someone else who would respect them and carry out their plan. But they didn’t believe it.

“Chara?”

A small voice broke through the fury. Chara looked up and saw them. A child hesitating in a stone doorway just ahead of them: Frisk.

The child’s expression relaxed into a smile, “I’m glad you’re okay.”

Anger flashed across Chara’s face. They pulled themselves to their feet, wavering slightly. They staggered towards Frisk with heavy steps, increasing their speed into a run. Frisk’s eyes widened for a moment before they scowled. The child braced themself and held out their arms, “Chara, stop!”

The caretaker grabbed Frisk by the collar and wrenched them up against the doorframe. The kid’s teeth chattered as their skull thudded against the stone behind them.

“Why?!” Chara barked, hatred seeping from their every pore, “You took everything from us! Our lives, our future, the salvation of all monsters!” Frisk turned their head away, clenching their eyes tight as Chara berated them. “Nothing was stopping you from leaving. So why?” Chara demanded, “Why did you return? To mock me? To torment me?”

“No…” Frisk answered quietly, “To save you.”

Their answer didn’t make any sense. Chara stared back, unable to even articulate a response. Instead, they slammed Frisk against the wall again. “Liar!” Chara cried out, “You expect me to believe that?”

“It’s the truth!” Frisk squirmed and pulled on Chara’s hands to no avail, “Escape isn’t worth anyone’s life. Not even yours, Chara!”

Chara’s fists clenched tighter around the slack of Frisk’s sweater. With a heave, they tossed the child to the side. Frisk splayed across the floor with a grunt.

“You are wrong,” Chara huffed, “And you… are a fool. Did you not learn the first time? I don’t care about your mercy.”

Frisk pulled themself to their feet. They straightened and returned Chara’s frenzied glare with a quiet gaze.

Chara continued, “I will not stop. This time I’ll take the souls, ignore you, and escape to the Surface. There, Asriel and I… we’ll…” Chara trailed off as Asriel’s face crossed their mind again. They sank to the floor, the air feeling heavier and heavier. “That traitor… he will never… he will never cooperate.”

The realization was like a knife twisting in their gut. Even with his betrayal, Asriel was always the most devoted. No one would be able to replace him. Despair crept into their heart as Chara realized they needed him more than Asriel needed them back. Chara had considered Frisk their greatest opponent, but it was Asriel who truly stood in their way.

Chara’s vision swam, so they turned their head away from Frisk, their hair falling in front of their face. Knowing the human was seeing them like this made their skin crawl, and they wished the ground would swallow them up. As Chara spoke, they held their breath to keep their voice from shaking. “Leave.”

Frisk hesitated, surely coming up with a response. Mockery? Pity? Chara wouldn’t bear it.

“Out of my sight! Now!” Chara shouted; their roar made the air tremble. Frisk didn’t wait to be told again. The sound of scuffling footsteps faded from earshot, and soon Chara was alone in the silence once more.

Finally, Chara let the tears fall from their eyes. They were disgusted with the way their breath hitched and sobbed no matter how much they tried to stifle it. Asriel did this to them. Asriel would have to pay.

Chara indulged in several minutes of sickening self pity before they finally wiped their face. Looking around, it took Chara a moment before they registered just where they were. They were deep within the Ruins, just outside the chamber Frisk had fallen into. But that didn’t make sense. From Chara’s experience, time could only be turned back to the most recently fixed point. Frisk should have been returned to just before their battle, perhaps in the jail. Instead, here they were, back to the moment they first met. Was Frisk not confined to the same limits of time travel?

Chara shook their head. They couldn't think about this now. Only one thing mattered: Asriel’s punishment. Drawing the will to stand, Chara pushed themselves upright to follow the child.

In one way or another, Frisk had made it past all the traps, through the house, and—presumably—out the exit. It was for the best; Chara couldn’t stand to cross paths with the child again. Inside the house, they paused to collect a large padlock they had stored in a table drawer. It was heavy and nearly the size of a text book with ornate designs engraved across it. The lock was imbued with abjuration magic, made specifically to lock the Ruins after Asriel was nearly killed by the human years ago. The lock would render any door unbreachable by human or monster, and Chara held the only key.

Chara carried the device with them into the basement, down the hall, and to the large exterior doors that lead to the snow draped forests beyond. The doors were slightly ajar, revealing a set of footprints that dotted the snow off into the distance.

Chara sighed, taking one last look at the snowy view, before pulling the doors shut. For decades, the lock had only been placed on the outside, removed only when Chara came through to patrol the ruins or escort monsters between Home and Snowdin. Today, for the first time, the doors would be locked from the inside with Chara within. They looped the padlock through the handles of the door, and when they snapped it into place, the doors shuddered and clamped together with a jolt. Chara traced a fingernail down the seam of the two doors. No one would be passing through without their permission.

Confronting Asriel directly was not an option. After all, any progress made with Asriel could be undone by Frisk. Not to mention they weren’t even sure what they could tell him. Asriel’s traitorous inclinations were buried deep into his core, waiting until Chara was at their most desperate to stab them in the back.

But there was one tactic that Frisk would be unable to interfere with. Silence. If Chara withdrew to the Ruins without a word, Asriel would surely blame himself for Chara’s sudden absence. Chara knew Asriel well: he’d beg for Chara’s return and apologize for things he didn’t do, all the while ignorant of his traitorous compulsions. Cruel, perhaps, but nothing was as cruel as what he had done in those erased timelines.

Chara checked their phone. They already had one message from Asriel inquiring as to when they’d return home. The caretaker marked it as read before slipping it back into their pocket.

---

As predicted, Asriel came to the door and stayed all night long. Knocking, calling, pleading-- Chara relished each pathetic attempt at reconciliation. He deserved to be confused, heartbroken, and alone, just as Chara was. Over the course of the day Chara received messages from Asgore, Toriel, and many other monsters. They all asked the same thing: Are you okay? Do you want to talk? We found this human named Frisk, do you know them? Even Muffet demanded an explanation. Chara would have to deal with her later.

Leaving everyone wondering and begging for answers was the only power Chara had left. Word was getting to the monsters in Home as well, evidenced by the additional messages piling up on their phone. Chara ignored them too. Eventually they would realize they were trapped on this side of the door as well, unwilling hostages in Chara’s scheme.

No matter. The monsters deserved to be trapped. Every one of them was just like Asriel: eager to please and sentimental to a fault. Chara had devoted their entire life to serving them and in return they never offered to help collect the souls that would free them. In fact, Chara had to resort to time travel to push them in the right direction for just an ounce of support. They all deserve to rot in this dark, claustrophobic hell.

---

“So you just let a human walk on by?” Muffet inquired in a sing-song voice, “That doesn’t seem much like the great caretaker at all!”

The two of them were sitting in her parlor, each on a lavish chair. A full tea set complete with baked goods sat on a low table between them, though Chara knew better than to partake in it. Spider legs stuck out of the scones like coarse hairs, and they couldn’t even imagine what the tea had been steeped with.

“Yes. Well.” Chara said, looking down at their lap, “There is not much I can do about it now.”

“Oh yes, I imagine the sweet thing is the new royal favorite, aren’t they?” Muffet’s fanged smile turned up in a mocking grin, “The queen has always had a soft spot for filthy little strays. You know that better than anyone, right, dearie?”

Chara bit back a retort. With time no longer under their control, they had to be careful while inside of her lair. It had been a week since they sealed the Ruins, and Muffet was the only person they had spoken to since. The crime lord wasn’t their first choice of confidant, of course, but she had been insisting on meeting and they knew better than to reject her invitation.

“I suppose so,” they responded softly.

Muffet giggled to herself, then suddenly reached for the plate of cookies between them. It was only after she grabbed a couple treats that Chara realized they had flinched when she moved. They tried to relax but the attempt only made them more tense.

“So, is that why you locked the exit? Had a bit of a falling out with the in-laws?”

“Something like that.” Chara frowned, “I’d rather not talk about it.”

“Oh of course, a lady like me wouldn’t dream of indulging in distasteful gossip! Instead, I have a business proposition~”

Chara straightened. In their current circumstance, they didn’t have much in the way of influence or leverage.

“How can I be of service?” they asked.

“I want to relocate,” Muffet paused to bite into one of her cookies. It sounded... crunchy. “You see, the Ruins are awfully drafty, and the cold isn’t good for my constitution. I was thinking about moving in the next year or so, but now that you’ve so... graciously sealed us all in here, I predict the traffic in my shop will be slowing down considerably.”

“Understood.” Chara nodded, “I will make an exception for you and open the d—”

“I wasn’t finished, Chara.” Muffet said, her voice lowering. There was a tense pause before she smiled again, “I want a limousine~”

“A—A what?” Chara asked, incredulous.

“A heated limousine that will chauffer my employees and I all the way to Hotland,” she gestured to the spiders that skittered between the tea cups, “A necessary luxury to ensure we make it safely through the biting cold of Snowdin. Should be a simple task for a monarch, correct?”

“Of course. Leave it to me.” Chara smiled, “Is that all?”

“Not much for business, are you, Chara?” Muffet smirked, “This is where you negotiate the terms of the agreement~”

“No need. I am happy to do this as a gesture of goodwill.” Chara outstretched their hand—it wasn’t trembling anymore, thankfully—and Muffet gave it a dainty shake.

Once Chara was safely out of Muffet’s lair, they heaved a sigh of relief. Somehow they had managed to leave in one piece despite Muffet’s attempts to bait them. Now they just had to figure out how to serve her outrageous demands. Chara fished their phone out of their pocket, dismissed several dozen missed calls and text notifications, and opened their address book. They were going to need to call in some discreet favors.

---

One month had passed since they sealed the Ruins. It wasn’t easy, but Chara managed to arrange for Muffet’s departure without alerting the Dreemurrs. Eventually, the royals found out the Ruins door had been briefly opened which led to a fresh barrage of calls, messages, and knocking on the resealed door, all of which Chara ignored, of course.

Chara walked the streets of Home late at night, the crystals in the ceiling sparkling above. They could feel the eyes of the monsters on them, but after weeks of Chara ignoring and scowling in return, the monsters had given up on approaching them. Wordlessly, they did their weekly shopping at the local market. As a member of the royal family, Chara had never needed to pay for any necessities, and it seemed the benefits even extended here. It was only fair compensation, of course. After all, Chara was still serving the undeserving monsters by patrolling the Ruins every day for human threats.

---

“Ugh, really?” Chara muttered. They were nearly done with their patrol, having reached the large trap of spikes that was circled with a moat. Chara pushed down on the edge of the spike panel’s pressure plate with their foot, but the spikes failed to retract completely, the deadly points standing out by a few inches. It wasn’t a good sign: the springs inside were starting to give out. And if the springs snapped while Chara was standing above it…

Chara shuddered. They had witnessed that messy result and they didn’t care to experience it first hand. Typically, Chara would order replacement parts and perform maintenance themself, but the machinist that created the pieces was in New Home. Unsealing the door again was out of the question.

“Of course this would happen now,” Chara grumbled. They moved their foot off the plate and the spikes shot back into place. How many more compressions would it tolerate before it broke? Before Frisk came to the Underground, Chara could risk it and undo any unpleasant accidents, but if the past five months were any indication, Frisk was not nearly as eager to manipulate time. In fact, time had been rolled back only two times since Chara let the child go.

It was inconceivable. How could Frisk resist the urge to erase the inevitable little mistakes that ruined every day? Embarrassing moments, broken tea cups, scraped knees… all could be fixed in an instant with the right application of their power. To have such power and yet choose to carry the weight of their failures—it defied reason.

More importantly, if Chara suffered a tragic accident while isolated here, no one would come to their rescue… whether through time manipulation or otherwise.

“Unfortunate.” Chara said to themself with a resigned sigh, “I will have to dismantle them. All of them.” They turned around and headed back home. While they didn’t have access to their machinist anymore, they did have a few hand tools and plenty of time.

---

Eight months had passed since Chara had let Frisk go. As they walked the path of the now defanged Ruins, they revised and repeated their old plan over and over. If they could just get one more soul to replace Frisk, they would have the seven required to break the barrier and purify the Surface. The only thing missing, of course, was a willing monster to absorb them.

They reached the end of their patrol: the entrance to the Underground for lost, unlucky humans. The chamber was empty, as it had been every day since Frisk fell in. Chara walked into the center of the room and stared up into the vacant darkness looming above. One hundred years had passed on the Surface and only eight humans had fallen in that time. How long would it take for another to arrive? Ten years? Thirty? Without the help of their powers Chara could very well die before seeing the next human soul.

Chara turned to leave, but did a double take as they glimpsed a glimmer of gold on the ground. They kneeled and pushed the grass aside to reveal a small yellow bud, barely beginning to open.

“It cannot be…” Chara breathed, “A Golden Flower?”

Golden Flowers were common on the Surface, but had no presence in the Underground. Chara was so sure of this that they had incorporated them into their original plan over 20 years ago. By requesting to see the wild flowers on their deathbed, Chara could ensure Asriel would cross the barrier with their corpse in tow.

Or at least, that was what should have happened.

Chara clenched their teeth at the bitter memory. It was the first of many perfect plans ruined by Asriel’s cowardice. The caretaker grasped the plant and ripped it out of the ground by the root.

Immediately, Chara felt a pang of regret. They stared down at the pathetic thing. Their favorite flower, somehow growing in this dark, sunless prison. When had it taken root? Did some seeds blow in from the Surface? Or were they brought in by a... passenger?

Chara shook their head. Regardless of how it was introduced to the Underground, it was now a part of the Ruins—their Ruins. It didn’t deserve to suffer for Asriel’s mistakes. Reflexively, Chara attempted to turn back time, but nothing happened.

With a sigh, they returned the flower to where it was and buried its roots back into the soil. The stem was bent and it wouldn’t stay upright, but weeds were resilient. With a little help, it might still make it.

---

Chara hesitated before their latest masterpiece, knife in hand. Resting on a serving plate was a beautiful, hand crafted chocolate ganache cake. Strawberries perched on top of the silky dark topping, and the intoxicating aroma filled the house. Somehow, even without their powers, it had turned out almost too perfect to eat.

Emphasis on "almost". Carefully, Chara slid the knife through the decadent construction and placed a slice on their plate. They paused to admire the moist cross section before sliding a fork through the end and taking a bite.

Absolute bliss.

"Not bad for a humble birthday cake," Chara said to themself. They were thirty-seven today. Chara looked across the dining table into the empty living room. The only sound was the fire crackling in the hearth, emitting heat for a one person abode. They wished this house wasn’t nearly identical to the one in New Home; the similarities made it too easy to imagine Toriel in her chair, Asgore in the kitchen, and Asriel leaning on the table with his elbows, big goofy grin on his face. The Dreemurrs loved birthdays, always spending weeks preparing for a large and lavish party.

This was the first birthday they had spent alone since they were thirteen. They had forgotten how miserable it could be.

Chara checked their phone. They had over one hundred notifications that had come in just today. They scrolled through to find the only contact that mattered: Asriel.

“Happy birthday, Chara!!” the message read, “Mom and Dad and I are thinking about you lots! We even got you a gift, so I hope we can give it to you one day! Wherever you are, take good care of yourself, okay?” A line of party and heart related emojis followed.

Chara read the message over and over. Asriel’s texts would always fill them with disgust and hatred, but not today. Instead Chara just felt… lonely. It was a pathetic, shameful feeling, but a true feeling nonetheless. Despite all the ways Asriel had disrespected them, Chara couldn’t hide from the fact that they missed him.

The caretaker allowed themself to vocalize a thought they had been pushing out of their mind for months. “Maybe…” Chara spoke, their soft voice breaking the quiet, “Maybe it is time to go home.”

They sighed, resigning themself. The eternal silent treatment was never a realistic plan, and while Asriel was the intended subject of the punishment, it was unpleasant to Chara, too. Scrolling up through his messages, Asriel had sent hundreds upon hundreds over the past year begging them to “just talk”. All had gone unanswered. The confusion and desperation in those messages were clear; he was perfectly primed for a reconciliation.

But Chara wanted more than reconciliation. More important than companionship was freedom. Freedom not just for undeserving monsters, but most importantly, freedom for themself.

“There is still a way,” Chara muttered to themself, “I simply… pushed Asriel too quickly. Asriel always responded better to a softer approach.” Chara stood, pacing.

“We will delay soul fusion until the end of my natural life. Nothing barbaric or tragic. My dying wish will be to live on within him. He cannot turn down my final request.”

Chara nodded, they could see it now. After a few decades, Chara would peacefully pass from their old, frail body into Asriel’s strong, youthful one, a benefit of his species’ long life span.

“Then we gather the rest of the souls. But not right away. Asriel will need some time to adjust to sharing a vessel with me. But he will with time. Perhaps even the child can be convinced to willingly donate their soul to the cause.” Even though Frisk wouldn’t be a child anymore, it was hard to imagine Frisk as anything but a meddling brat. Honestly, they’d probably still be a brat in thirty years.

“If not, that is... fine. The child can be suffered to live.” The decision was a reluctant one, but giving mercy to such an undeserving creature gave Chara a pleasant feeling of self-righteousness. After all, it didn’t really matter if Frisk lived or died. The important thing was purifying the Surface and breaking the barrier. One human would not make a difference.

“Yes. This will work.” A smile crept onto Chara’s face and their heart thrummed with excitement. They would return to Asriel, who would embrace them with utmost relief and joy. After all, absence makes the heart grow fonder, and Asriel had shown no signs of giving up on them.

Chara would enjoy a long life in the company of their loved ones until the day they would embrace their prophesied purpose as the Underground’s savior.

It would require patience, but their splendid utopia was once again within reach. They began planning their grand return.

chapter 10 // end

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[cipheress-to-k-pop]

Could you write something based on this prompt Dick x reader! villain "I hope we never get to see each other again."

Dangerous People

Pairing: Dick Grayson as Nightwing x Reader

Warnings: Sexual assault and miscarriage. Extremely sensitive themes here, please don't read if you are triggered by such topics.

Word Count: 1.8K

Dick used to think the most dangerous people were the ones who had no morals. The people who did the dirtiest of things and had no way of redemption because there's a piece of stone where their heart should be.

He had seen it a million times over when he was Robin and then Nightwing. It had been that kind of person who took away his parents and he would learn it was the very same kind that took yours.

Detective Grayson met you one rainy night in November when you were brought into the police station in Bludhaven, cold and shivering. Tears were pouring down your face and you looked sick.

He would later come to find that night that your parents were killed by a man named Black. You told him all that you could, insisting that it was him and that they should arrest him.

As much as Dick wanted to, he couldn't just pick up a man and put him behind bars, not without evidence. Although he did promise that he would try his best to put him away. Dick could see the comfort that his words brought you.

The night he met you was also the night he slept with you. Not sex. Just sleep.

He had offered to drive you back home but you just shook your head in tears, saying that you couldn't go back home where your parents had just been murdered. And that you didn't have any money to stay at a hotel.

It was no secret that Dick had a bleeding heart, so when he saw your red and puffy eyes staring up at him, he quickly offered up his apartment for you to sleep in that night.

He took you home, and made you take a nice, hot shower before bundling you up in his spare clothes and letting you take the bed.

You repaid him the next morning by cooking him breakfast.

Thus, began the start of a beautiful relationship.

You panted, breath stuttering in your chest as Dick trailed kisses down your neck. Your fingers were carding through his hair, twitching and tugging at the roots every time his teeth grazed your sweet spot.

He held your hips to his body with a tight grip. He met your lips again with an open-mouthed kiss that swallowed your moans when his hands cupped your chest.

"I'm crazy about you..." Dick whispered underneath his breath when you cupped his cheeks. Your eyes fluttered open to see him watching you with deep blue eyes. You knew what he wanted to say, you felt it.

You kissed him again, slow and soft, conveying everything you could possibly be feeling.

"I love you too."

Falling for you made Dick want to capture Black even more. He knew of the kind of trauma that followed you throughout your life unless you got the closure you needed, so he poured his heart out into finding the man who robbed you of your family in one night.

But he was good, scary good. There was no evidence. No fingerprints, no DNA samples. No witnesses, other than you. But that wasn't enough.

He had known just how to avoid all the cameras and had left the weapon at the scene of the crime, a knife from your kitchen.

Dick felt helpless, he wanted so badly to be able to find this man and arrest him for your sake. He felt like a failure every time he would see the look of disappointment on your face when he said there were no leads.

So, he decided to go into his background. Black, a man who was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. He was a shareholder of your parents’ company and Dick wondered if there was something behind the scenes that made him want to kill your mother and father.

But none of it made sense, according to the contracts that each of them signed, in the case of a death then there was no possible way for him to get his hands on your parents’ shares. It was already enlisted to you. And Black had known about it.

So why try and murder your parents when it wouldn't have benefitted him in any way. Could it have been out of anger? In the spur of the moment? No, everything looked too well planned for that.

It was then he got a call from another detective. They got an anonymous tip that there was evidence found at the scene. He immediately went over there only to realize there was something wrong.

The footprints were even, too even. It was unusual that there was equal pressure at all parts of his sole. The cigarette lighter underneath the table was empty.

He had been so sure that he had looked over the place so carefully. How could he have missed the obvious footprint in the carpet and the lighter under the table?

It was then his partner mused that the evidence was fabricated and that Black wasn't the real culprit. That someone was trying to frame him.

And then everything made sense.

***

Dick’s heart pounded in his ears as he ran. Never in his life did the Nightwing suit ever feel so strained against his body. He felt like his chest was being compressed and each breath was harder and harder to take. Still, he pumped his legs until they ached painfully as he ran faster to you.

His head throbbed against his skull with the information he just learnt.

His eyes skimmed over all the words in your file and his heart rate picked up. He couldn't believe there had been so much information that he had overlooked before, simply trusting your words.

It was such an amateur move that he was surprised with himself. How could he have trusted you so blindly without verifying it?

As he read the file, his heart began clenching in his chest. With each word it was getting harder to breath.

You were the victim of a sexual crime case, that was left incomplete, the name of the suspect was censored. The next paper was another case, you were the victim of a planned mugging, it stated that you sustained injuries. The one after that was a medical report, a miscarriage.

Everything started making sense. The puzzle pieces started fitting in his head. The name of your assaulter was censored because he was a major shareholder of the company and partners with your parents. The mugging was planned so that you couldn't get a paternal test done.

Your parents and Black conspired against you. They made you hold their burdens so that their sins wouldn't be revealed.

When he got home to find the door wide open, his blood froze in his veins. He rushed through the apartment to find that it was empty, you had left in a hurry. He needed to find you, especially when he realized one thing.

His Glock was missing.

Dick swallowed roughly when he saw you, jumping across the roof until he was only one building away from you.

“(Y/N) don’t do it!” He shouted, as if you would actually listen but he still bounded across the gap between you, hand coming to wrap around the gun you were holding to deflect the shot against the ground.

The sound resonated through the area and his ears began ringing but he paid no heed, quickly disarming you and throwing away the gun in your hand. You struggled in his grip, screaming and kicking at him before you resorted to roughly elbow him in the face.

He let go of you, feeling pain and stumbling back but made sure that to get to the gun you’re have to go through him first.

You were new at this, you didn’t bother to assess the situation or even try to combat him again before you were lurching for the gun that lay abandoned at his feet and he tackled you, trying to stop your struggling as you rolled around on the rough concrete of the roof.

“(Y/N) wait!”

“No!” You screamed, voice thick with tears, “No more waiting! That monster doesn’t deserve to live for even a second longer!”

You thrashed in his grip, reaching for the gun again and he grabbed your leg, dragging you back before you could wrap your fingers around it.

"Please! Just stop and listen for a second! For me!" He pleaded but you started sobbing when he pinned you down and you realized you couldn't move.

When you looked up at him with tears in your eyes, he couldn't help his own that began falling from his eyes.

"You know what he did to me. You know what they did!" You cried, "So, why are you stopping me?!"

"It isn't right, (Y/N). You can't do this! If you do then you're just as bad as them." His grip on your wrists got tighter, as if scared you would try to pull away again.

"It's too late for me." You told him, "My parents are already dead. I did it."

He knew that. But he wished he didn't have to hear it. You made a mistake, a decision, that couldn't be reversed. And you would have to live with it for the rest of the life.

"I'll let you go." He whispered. He knew what he was doing was wrong, he knew that he was going against his morals but still, he couldn't be the one to take you to prison.

You immediately stopped squirming, shocked, and you looked up at him with wide eyes. Your heart pounded in your chest; he was willing to let you go? After everything you did you him?

He pulled away, not moving from his place on the floor. Dick looked at you one last time and your throat closed at the sight of his heartbroken gaze.

"I hope we never get to see each other again." He choked out, voice strained and you screwed your eyes shut to keep yourself from crying.

You wanted to tell him that you loved him, one last time, but you knew that wasn't what he wanted to hear. You weren't going to disappoint him one more time that night.

"Good bye." You whispered, turning around and leaving. It would be the last time Dick would ever see you.

It was that night that Dick realized that the most dangerous people were those who had nothing left to lose. And his heart would break even more when he realized that you never considered him yours to lose.

He never even got to tell you he loved you.

Forever Taglist:

@simonsbluee

DC Taglist:

@emmacata

@p--e--a--c--h--e--s

@sometimeseverythingsucks

@sokkas-honour

@unstable1902

@lostgirlheart

@missdisapear

@tadpole-san

[dongofthewolf]

Dancing in the Deepest Oceans- Chapter 3

Abby Anderson x Fem!Reader

Your first date with Abby doesn’t go quite as planned.

Warnings: mentions of blood and injury, swearing, angst, hurt/comfort, uhhh yea I did that

Here’s chapter three! It definitely took way longer than I expected to do since I really wanted to get a lot of those requests done, so I’m v sorry about that.

Also I kinda cheated and included someone’s request for a bath scene with Abby in this so shhhhh it’s fine I’m just lazy productive like that okay LOL. I hope you all enjoy (esp if you requested the scene) ! :)

Read the previous chapter here

You couldn’t believe this was actually happening. You felt like the protagonist in one of those cheesy rom-coms from back in the day; the ones where the girl suddenly stumbles into the arms of her true love and everyone sings a happy song, except this isn’t a movie and also it’s kind of the apocalypse or whatever. You didn’t care though, this was the closest thing to rom-com perfection you were getting and you couldn’t complain, because it was with her.

Though you had only known Abby for a few short days, something inside you couldn’t help but feel like you had known her your entire life. The intimacy of those few stolen glances, the slight brushes of your shoulders, the way your hand fit perfectly in hers; it all felt so natural. You just hoped she felt the same way. 

--

She should be here.

You glanced down at your watch again, it was 8:15. Maybe you had heard her wrong? No, she definitely said eight o clock. Your mind swarmed with possible excuses as to why she wasn’t here; perhaps she thought you were meeting at seven and now she was the one who thought you were standing her up, or maybe she thought you guys were meeting at your room and this was the fault of some kind of miscommunication, or maybe she simply forgot. You racked your brain for any possibilities as to why she wasn’t here, trying your best to neglect the most obvious reason out of denial or maybe fear.

The hallway was dark and quiet, the tile floor cold against your skin as you sat with your knees tucked tightly against your chest. Your back ached from leaning against the steel door, and you had become increasingly more embarrassed every time someone passed by. Their lingering gazes made you want to disappear into the earth beneath you. 

For at least an hour, you sat outside her door contemplating whether or not you should wait for her. Was this whole thing a mistake? Your heart began to sink at the frightening possibility that she had been toying with your feelings this whole time, that you were just a naive girl with a childish crush on this person you barely even knew. God, how could you have been so stupid? This is exactly why you never formed attachments; they always ended in heartbreak, disappointment, or both. As more time passed, the fear and sadness that occupied your thoughts slowly began to fade into frustration.

This was dumb. Why were you waiting around for her like some lost kitten? You scoffed at how pathetic you felt. Anger began to rise in your chest as you thought of all the things you’d say to her when you saw her—how you’d scold her for standing you up, dreaming up this gigantic speech about how if she wasn’t interested she should’ve just told you. Or maybe instead of yelling you would just never speak to her again. Give her the silent treatment for the rest of your life. That is what she wanted anyways, right? 

As you sat there arguing silently with yourself you heard a pair of heavy footsteps headed towards you. You craned your neck to try and see who or what was approaching you, but the hallway was too dark to get a clear view. Panic quickly replaced the anger that had been occupying your heart just seconds ago as you stood up from your uncomfortable position. You could hear the adrenaline pumping in your ears as you squint your eyes at the dark figure headed towards you. A sudden rush of relief fell over you when a familiar face appeared out of the shadows.

“Y/N.” Manny emerged from the darkness. His hair was slicked back into a bun and he wore a nervous expression on his face. The sole of his boots were caked with a thick layer of mud that left a trail of footprints in the hallways, and you pitied the poor soul who would have to clean it up.

“Where’s Abby?” There was a sharpness to your words. You knew you should've been a bit more conversational (Manny had done nothing to you after all), but after sitting on the floor for an hour, you didn’t feel like wasting time on bullshit small talk. If Abby was going to send Manny to get rid of you instead of doing it herself, then the last thing you cared about right now was seeming polite.

“Right, about that…” You raised your eyebrow, Manny’s expression was difficult to interpret and you could tell he was here to break some kind of news to you, but for some reason it felt like whatever bomb he was about to drop was far worse than what you had expected.

“Manny, what’s going on?” You took a small step towards him, searching his face for an answer.

“Isaac sent Abby and I on a supply run this morning. Nothing too difficult, just transporting a few things to another base but…” Manny looked down at his feet as he contemplated his next words “but we ran into a group of scars on our way back and we got separated.”

You suddenly felt a tinge of guilt for thinking all those things about Abby. “W-what do you mean you got separated? Where’s Abby now?” 

Manny’s eyes were fixed to the floor as he delivered the news, his thumbs twiddling together nervously. “I uh… well, I don’t know.” Manny noticed your face twist with anger at his answer and tried to diffuse some of it “But Isaac’s already sent out a group to find her. It’s going to be okay Y/N, Abby is one of Isaac’s top soldiers and you know he’ll do whatever he can to find her.”

You were speechless, but more than anything you were frustrated. Frustrated at yourself for thinking such horrible things about Abby—for having such little faith in her. You wanted to scream at your past self for being so ignorant. Tears began to well in your eyes and Manny’s words did little to comfort you.

“I should be out there.” You marched down the hallway determined to find Abby but Manny was quicker.

His hand grabbed your wrist and pulled you back “You can’t go out there Y/N, you’ll die. Abby’s smart, okay? She’ll find her way back.” 

You tried to resist his grip on your wrist even though you knew he was right. You weren’t a soldier nor did you have the proper training to leave the outpost alone. And while a large part of you knew it was stupid to try and leave, a much bigger part of you didn’t care. You had to find Abby; you were willing to do anything, even if that meant putting yourself in harm's way. 

“I don’t care, I have to go out there.” You managed to yank yourself free from his grip and booked it towards the door but Manny was quick and caught you. Wrapping his arms around your stomach and hoisting you over his shoulder Manny carried you into his and Abby’s room while you fought and cried like a little kid. 

“Fucking let go of me Manny!” Tears stained your cheeks as you sobbed into Manny’s shirt. 

When Manny finally set you down on his bed you were exhausted from crying; the only thing left in your heart now was an overwhelming feeling of helplessness. You weren’t even allowed to leave the outpost to look for Abby, and the only thing you could do was sit in this wretched room praying she didn’t get mauled by a clicker or hung by a Seraphite. 

Manny didn’t feel any better about this than you did, in fact it was his job as Abby’s partner to watch out for her and he failed. Now his best friend was missing and it’s all his fault. The guilt weighed heavily on Manny as he tried to comfort you while you wept silently into his pillow. Even though he couldn’t have possibly predicted the surprise attack, he still felt like this entire thing was his doing. He tried to plead with Isaac to let him go back out and search for Abby but he refused, so Manny figured keeping you safe was the least he could do. 

Hours later you got up from Manny’s bed to use the bathroom, and he was nowhere to be found. You figured he probably went to bother Isaac about Abby or something, he was persistent like that.

You splashed some cold water on your face before tipping your head under the faucet to help ease the dryness in your throat. When you brought your head back up you almost didn’t recognize the person staring back at you in the mirror. Your eyes were red and puffy and there were dark circles under your eyes like you haven’t slept in days. You looked like a mess. Your hair was wild and unruly but at least with that outfit you had spent way too long picking out, you still looked pretty cute. 

At least you were a hot mess.

The longer you stared at yourself in the mirror, the more unrecognizable your face became. And then for reasons you couldn’t explain, you started laughing. A hysterical laugh that echoed off the walls in the bathroom like a sick symphony fell unwillingly from your mouth, and you couldn’t stop. There was something so incredibly sardonic about the events of these past few hours, that your body just decided to break out into a breathless cackle. It was a twisted reaction to a terrifying situation but for some reason it wouldn’t go away. Your stomach began to ache and your throat was dry and sore again. It felt like this sickening nightmare would never end. 

You felt tears begin to well up again when you heard something that immediately shook you from your shocked state: the rattling of the doorknob.

Your heart swelled with hope as you ran towards the door, not concerned about waking up the people in the rooms next door with your loud footsteps. The door creaked open, flooding the dark room with a pale yellow light that blinded you, and from that light emerged a figure you knew all too well— one that you had become intimately familiar with.

Abby limped through the door, at first not even realizing you were standing right there. You were looming in the darkness like some kind of monster, and you tried to speak but nothing came out. The only thing that snapped you out of it was the sound of Abby’s voice, hoarse and hushed like she was speaking into the darkness rather than you. God, you almost forgot how much you loved the sound of her voice. 

“Y/N?” Abby wasn’t sure if she was imagining this. She thought maybe the expired pain meds had some hallucinatory side effects and you were just what she wanted to see the most. Abby’s doubts faded into nothing when you took a small step into the light. In that moment she knew that this was real—that you were real.

When your eyes finally adjusted to the harsh lights you saw her face and gasped. To say Abby was in rough shape would be putting it lightly. There were cuts and bruises all over her face and body, and her clothes were absolutely filthy, but you couldn’t be bothered with that right now. You ran into her arms to embrace her tightly and Abby winced at the contact. Quickly you pulled back out of fear you hurt her, but Abby’s arms wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you back in.

Abby let out a loud exhale and for a small moment the jabbing pains all over her body ceased to exist. The only thing occupying her mind was the warmth of your body—how she could feel your heart beating with how tightly she was holding you, and she could finally exhale.

When you pulled away, a flood of emotions suddenly began to flow through you, filling you to the brim until the only words you could manage to mutter out through choked sobs were “I thought you were-“

“I know. I’m sorry.” There was a somber expression on Abby’s face as she wiped the tears from your cheek with the pads of her thumbs. 

You sniffed, looking up at her, you cleared your throat before speaking “Jesus Abby, your face.“ you softly grabbed Abby’s chin, examining her injuries in the light. There were crimson slices all over her face, and she was beaten black and blue. A particularly deep cut on her forehead had been stitched carefully and there was a cotton bandage wrapped around her left forearm. The state of your distress now seemed like peanuts compared to Abby’s state.

Without thinking you hugged Abby again tightly, revelling in the comfort of her embrace. Abby’s eyes were closed when you wrapped your arms around her, her eyebrows were furrowed and you weren’t sure if she was about to cry or scream. Though you didn’t know much about Abby, you did know she was a soldier—a warrior who wasn’t disturbed easily. You had no idea what she had just been through, but whatever happened had shaken her up pretty good. 

“Here.” Bringing your arms up to the strap of her backpack, you helped her ease it off her shoulder. She let out a breath of relief as you lifted the weight from her back and placed it near the door. 

Looking at Abby now you finally realized how dirty she was. There was mud and grime all over her clothes and her braid was loose and unruly. 

“Hey, uh I’ll run a bath for you, just wait here.” Considering her state you figured a bath would be more relaxing than a shower. Besides, you needed to feel useful right now, and if that meant taking care of Abby for a bit? You didn’t mind at all.

Hesitantly, you made your way to the bathroom and laid out a small towel on the tile floor. Turning on the faucet, you placed the plug in the tub and made your way to Abby, guiding her to the edge of the tub. “Let me know if the water is too hot, okay?”

Abby nodded as she ran her hand under the running water, letting the warmth fall between her fingers. When the tub was full, you turned off the faucet and stood up, using Abby’s shoulders to help steady you as you started for the door but something stopped you. 

“Wait-“ You stopped, Abby’s hand was over the one you placed on your shoulder, securing it there so you wouldn’t leave. She looked at you with pleading eyes as she spoke “Can… can you stay?” Abby didn’t say anything more but you could tell by the look in her eyes she needed you here. 

“Sure. I’ll turn around and you can get undressed.” You turned to face the door, looking down at the tile floor as you traced the crevices with your finger. The only sound that could be heard was the droplets of water that fell from the faucet echoing against the walls and the soft rustling of Abby removing her clothes. Eventually you heard Abby lower herself into the tub, she let out a loud sigh as the tension in her muscles dissipated from the warm water.

“You can turn around now.” Abby’s voice was quiet when she finally spoke.

Slowly you turned around to see Abby sitting in the tub, her legs tucked against her chest as she hugged herself tightly. Her eyes were fixed on the floor of the tub while she rested her chin on her knee. It broke your heart when you saw her injuries in the light. There were deep purple bruises along her shoulder blades and scabbed over cuts along her arms and legs. You also saw scars, a lot of them. Some were old and faded, while others were new, probably sustained within the last couple of weeks.

The steam from the water floated up, fogging the mirrors and warming the room. You made your way to the edge of the tub with a small washcloth, dipping it into the water just slightly. “Here.”

Bringing your finger to Abby’s chin you lifted her eyes to face yours. Her features softened when you met her gaze and lightly you brought the washcloth to her face. Careful to avoid the stitches on her forehead, you rid the dirt from her face, dipping the cloth into the water every once in a while before bringing it back to her face.

Her freckles were more prominent in the light and her eyes stuck attentively studying your movements. When all the grime was gone, you couldn’t help but notice a whisper of a blush on Abby’s cheeks. 

“One hell of a first date, huh?” Abby spoke seriously but you could see a hint of a smirk on the edge of her mouth. A bit of her normal self was beginning to return.

Sitting up more straight now you gave her a small smile. “This is definitely the most interesting one I’ve ever been on.” 

You reached for her braid, undoing the elastic and separating the strands from each other while Abby spoke. “Oh so you’ve never bathed someone during a first date?”

“I can confidently say that this is my first.” Grabbing the small bar of soap from the dish in the corner, you dipped it into the water and lathered it between your fingers. 

The soap filled the air with the scent of pine and rain and you sighed at the smell. It filled your senses and reminded you of the first time you saw her. Not the time in the cafeteria but on that rainy day when you bumped into her for the first time. You inhaled deeply; it smelled like her.

Gently you began massaging the bubbles into Abby’s hair. Weaving the blonde locks through your fingers, and purposely taking longer than necessary. Watching closely as Abby’s muscles relaxed and her eyes fluttered closed from your touch. 

“Lean back.” Shielding her face from the water you grabbed a cup and poured the water over her head, letting the bubbles wash away from her scalp and into the water. “Is this okay?” 

Abby hummed in response and you took that as a yes. You repeated the process while you washed the soap from her hair, doing it a couple more times than needed because you knew it calmed her. 

The bathroom was quiet again, the only sound coming from the steady flow of water from the cup onto her head, and into the water. It was peaceful, and the both of you were content in this familiar silence. Appreciating each other’s company without the need to fill the air.

When you were done you sat up and laid out a towel for Abby, drying your hands on your shirt. “I’ll grab you some clean clothes, just give me a sec.” 

You left Abby to dry off while you searched for some clean clothes. Grabbing what you assumed was a clean shirt and a pair of sweatpants, you made your way back to the bathroom. Standing outside the door, you knocked lightly. “Can I come in?” 

Before you could wait for an answer, Abby opened the door a bit, hiding herself behind it. You handed Abby the clothes and she gave you an appreciative smile, it was small but genuine. “Thanks.” 

You sat beside the bathroom door waiting for Abby and trying not to think about the fact that she could’ve died out there. She was here and that’s all that mattered for now.

Your mind wandered as you picked at your sleeve, you noticed there were a few wet spots on your shirt from the edge of the tub. The cool air made you shiver and you regretted not bringing a sweater, even if this was supposed to be a night in. 

When Abby finally emerged from the bathroom you quickly stood up, unsure of what to do next. Her hair was still damp and spread across her shoulders; this was the first time you had ever seen her without that signature braid and you were in awe of how beautiful she looked. It was such a strange thought but it was the only thing occupying your mind. There was something so rare about seeing her like this that you couldn’t stop the flutter in your heart when it happened. 

Grabbing her hand, you led her to the bed on the opposite side of Manny’s and pulled the covers back so she could slip in. When she settled under the sheets you neatly tucked her in before standing up again. 

You didn’t know what to do now. Would it be rude to stay? Abby clearly needed the rest, but something in you desperately wanted to stay. You decided to let her sleep and started towards the door when you heard a small voice from beneath the covers. “Stay. Please.”

Abby’s voice was quiet and you could hear the exhaustion behind it. You looked at her with a smile and sat down on the bed next to her, pushing a strand of hair from her forehead before smoothing it down softly. She looked at you apologetically as you caressed her head, and  you gave her a look of reassurance even if you were scared out of your mind. Her eyes fluttered closed and her features softened from your touch. You stayed like this for a while, continuing even after her breathing had slowed and you knew she was asleep.

You stayed up watching her sleep; studying the way her mouth was slightly agape as she let out small breaths. She looked so peaceful.

A small teardrop escaped from your eye, and you quickly wiped it away. You knew this wasn’t going to be the last time she’d be like this; battered and bruised and fighting a war that seemed to never end. It hurt your heart to know that she was on this path of self-destruction, but what hurt most was knowing she’d likely never stop. 

You tried not to think about that right now. Eventually letting your attention fall onto the wet shirt that was still stuck to different parts of your body. Removing the item you walked over to the drawer where you had found the clothes for Abby and slipped on one of her t-shirts. It was devastatingly oversized on you but it was warm and smelled like her. 

You settled onto the space next to Abby’s bed, ignoring the ache in your back as you lay flat on the floor beneath you. Though the pain was worth enduring with the knowledge that Abby was here, and that’s all that mattered to you right now. 

While you lay on the floor you began thinking about how different things were just hours ago. It wasn’t long ago that you were practically dancing like an idiot in your mirror because you were going on a date with Abby. It’s strange how many emotions you had gone through in one day, you were almost positive you had broken some kind of record. You chuckled at yourself; surely no one was going to spontaneously break out into a song like in the movies, but you didn’t mind. This was enough— being here with Abby was enough. 

Eventually, exhaustion overtook your body and you quickly felt your eyes becoming heavier. The floor was beginning to feel a lot more comfier than when you had sat down and before you knew it, you had fallen into a deep slumber.

[imarvelatthesight]

Spar

A/N: I’m trying to branch out to more Marvel characters :) let me know if I should start adding a fic summary

Summary: Reader fights Thor on Saakar.

Pairing: Thor Odinson x Avenger!Reader

Pronouns Used: Gender Neutral (They/Them)

Recommended Song: Tia Tamera by Doja Cat ft. Rico Nasty

Word Count: 1,578

Warnings: fighting, one mention of blood, reader has super strength and partial magical abilities, mention of alcohol, swearing, it’s kinda sad in places

   The day you had been brought to Sakaar had been possibly the worst day of your life. And that was truly saying something. Being in a relationship with a god-- never mind the fact that he was also an Avenger-- was a trick in itself. Trying to have a good relationship with his adopted brother? Well, that’s how you ended up in this mess. Get caught snooping around his room once and suddenly you’re on a different planet.

Your clothes were uncomfortably tight and the decorative paint on your face had you dying to itch it. Every week for the past two years you’d suffered this same treatment. Though, the fact that you had survived your rounds in the pit meant you were treated more well-off than others. A nice room, any alcoholic drink you could wish for (but because you were from Earth, more than a couple of sips would have you off your ass in moments). Even with all of your so-called luxuries, you felt empty. Why had no one come to rescue you? Did the Avengers even notice you were gone?

The door opening in front of you interrupted your thoughts. There was no time to think about anything else other than trying to survive. The roar of the crowd above you had your ears nearly ringing. “My champion!” You heard The Grandmaster announce. You burst out into the area, the crowd seemingly getting even louder. Before you had time to revel in the applause, one of the few advantages of your predicament, your eyes settled on your opponent. “Oh shit.”

“Yes!” The god of thunder boomed, excitement covering his face. Silence befell the crowd. Your features softened for a moment, happy to see your lover. You knew, however, you would not be able to express it. If you showed any fondness for each other it would surely compromise your life. “They’re my lover!” He threw his hand in the air, swinging his weapon up with it. “This is great, Y/N! I’ve been looking for you- Loki’s alive. Loki!” 

Your eyes snapped up to the god of mischief. You scowled. You could faintly see him gulp and mouth something. “Thor.” You turned back to him, leaning forward slightly. “If we don’t fight, they’ll kill us both.” 

“Nonsense, come with me and we’ll go-” Thor’s words were cut off by you grabbing him and flinging him away from you. His body slid through the dirt, a pained groan leaving him. The stands erupted with joy at the battle beginning. Thor jumped to his feet, brushing himself off. “Love, this is embarrassing! I told them we’re lovers!”

His words made you hesitate. You didn’t want to hurt Thor. But you couldn’t risk both of you dying. Someone would figure something out. Hopefully. You raised your hand and Thor’s weapon flew out of his grip, finding it’s home in your palm. The mace was in your hand for a fraction of a second before you flung it back at your partner.  Your eyes clamped shut, not wishing to see if it struck him. After a few seconds you opened them and watched as Thor caught the mace and swung it back in your direction. Quickly, you raised your hands in an attempt to catch it again, but the tip of the mace nicked your cheek. You dropped the weapon, your thumb sliding over the wound to collect the blood from it. 

Your feet carried your body with agility as you leapt through the air. Thor threw a swift punch to your abdomen, throwing your frame into the wall where it dented from the force you landed with. Fuck, that hurt. A collective gasp filled the arena. 

The sound of quick footprints coming closer caused you to groan and assume a pleading position with your hand outstretched in front of your face. “Y/N, sweetheart?” You lifted your head, watching as Thor crouched to your level and extended a hand to you. “It’s alright. I won’t hurt you anymore. No one will.” The god of thunder cooed. Timidly, you reached out to him. “There you go, c’mere darling.” He smiled and pulled you into a hug, practically purring.

You melted into the contact. You were home. Anywhere with Thor was home. But part of you couldn’t resist looking up to where The Grandmaster sat. A frown soured his expression, Loki bouncing his leg at the opposite end of the couch. “Shit.” You whispered, though your Asgardian boyfriend didn’t notice as he placed a tender kiss to your forehead. The crowd was growing restless. Reluctantly, you pulled out of his hold. You grabbed his biceps, mentally admiring the way the muscle rippled under your touch, and lifted him in the air--using both your strength and your magic to assist-- before slamming him into the ground again. 

Your fists found purchase on his face, tears filling your eyes and a scream tearing through your throat. To the crowd, it was a war cry. To you, a plea of mercy to whatever higher being was listening, and a shriek of forgiveness from Thor. The god laid there, your punches landing blow after blow on his cheeks. Within moments, his body and eyes flowed with electricity, and he returned your action, the lightning launching your body into the air and backwards, where your head made contact with the loose dirt. 

Both astonishment and horror ebbed through you at the sight of Thor, covered in lightning, walking in your direction with purpose. You thought to do the same move you’d tried previously and leap at him. Only this time, he copied your movement and delivered an uppercut to your jaw. The sonic boom that erupted from Thor’s fist had your ears feel as if they were bleeding. Luckily, you’d managed to gather your bearings and land in a three-point stance. As Thor paced toward you, blue flashes decorating his muscles and dancing from his fingertips, he suddenly began to convulse and fell on his side. “Thor!” You cried, falling on your knees beside him. 

Your gaze shot to the large window again. The Grandmaster slid his finger back on a device and Thor stopped twitching. Of course. He couldn’t afford to lose. You stroked your lovers face. His hand covered yours. “My love, I’m so sorry. I-I didn’t want to hurt you.”

He chuckled. “It was quite a fight you put up. I’m sure Tony would have liked to see.” 

“We’ll tell him when we get back to earth.” You muttered. As Thor went to speak again, he started shaking again, the veins on his face darkening. Mere seconds later, an electric jolt shot through you and your consciousness slipped away.

When you awoke, it was with panic. You recognized the room as the one you’d been forced to stay in for so long now. You groaned and attempted to roll over, being stopped by the weight of another person. Your breath hitched and you tried to move away, only for an arm to be wrapped around you and pulling you closer, a deep sigh escaping the person.

“My love.” Thor rasped out as you flipped over to face him. He playfully rubbed his beard against your jaw. His contentedness left as his hand gently grasped your face, his thumb moving over the scratch on your face. “Oh, Y/N. I wish this had never happened. I’m sorry it has taken me so long to find you.”

You turned your head and placed a kiss on his palm. “A few years is quite a long time.” You agreed.

“Years? You’ve only been gone for a week, dove.” He cocked an eyebrow at you. “Though according to Loki, time does move quite differently here.”

You rolled your eyes. “Ugh, Loki. That fool is the reason I’m here in the first place.” You snuggled into Thor’s chest and he pulled his arms tighter around you like you would disappear. “I want to go home, Thor. I want to listen to Steve complain, and I want to watch TV with Wanda, and I want out of these stupid devices-” You barely noticed the sobs leaving you as you tugged on the technology implanted on your neck.

Thor took your face in his hands. “We will get out of here, sweetheart. I will be sure of it. And Loki will right his wrongs, I swear it.” He kissed you softly. You nodded, silently acknowledging his words. “I love you, Y/N L/N.” Another kiss. “The light of my life.” Another. 

You held back a laugh in favor of burying your face in the crook of his neck. “Stop, you big sap. I love you, Thor Odinson.” You suddenly pulled away with wide eyes. Thor only smiled in confusion. “Valkyrie! She and I get along quite well, she’ll help us. I know it!”

Footsteps from down the hall had Thor scrambling out of the bed, standing politely with his hands folded. You rushed to the door, where Valkyrie nodded in you greeting. “Y/N. It was quite shocking to learn that you are romantically engaged with our lord of thunder here.” She motioned with her hand.

“It’s god of thunder, actually-”

“We must get to training, Y/N. You two can kiss it up later.” She looped her arm through yours. You cast a look over your shoulder at Thor, who gave you an enthusiastic thumbs up. 

“So, Val, I must discuss a proposition with you...”

“Does it involve drink?”

“It can.”

“I’m listening.”

[mrswhozeewhatsis]

Perfect

A/N: I actually wrote something!! Hallelujah!! Special thanks to @negans-lucille-library for beta reading and putting up with all of my questions!!

Summary: Life with Dean is perfect.

Pairing: Dean x reader (I believe this reader is pretty gender neutral, so I hope some guys out there get to read this and enjoy it, too!)

Warnings: None, really. Mostly fluff. Bit of angst.

Word count: 3497 words

Prompt: For the @spnfanficpond's S14 Weekly Episode Challenge, week 19. I used one prompt. It will be bolded. Not listing it here because spoilers.

Two machetes swung in unison, lopping off two vampire heads and leaving you looking at the proud face of your husband as the bodies fell between you. A beam of sunlight burst through a broken board in the roof of the barn and lit up dust motes in the air around Dean’s head, making him look positively resplendent. You grinned at each other before each of you motioned over the other’s shoulder, and then both spun away, taking down two more vampires with almost synchronized movements. It was always like a dance, fighting with Dean. The two of you had fought together for so long now, you were one unit, just taking down monster after monster in fights that almost looked choreographed.

When the last vampire head hit the ground with a satisfying thump and the corresponding body slumped after it, you both heaved a satisfied sigh and smiled at each other. With a quiet nod, you separated, making sure the barn was completely clear of monsters, inside and out, then met again in the middle with a quick, chaste, kiss.

“I’d do better, but you have a little something right… about...” –you gestured at his cheek, then really all over his face– “well, everywhere, really,” you said with a grimace. “Don’t feel like turning into a vampire just because I wanted to kiss my husband.”

Dean pretended to try and kiss you messily, laughing when you pushed him away. “You mean, it’s not worth two days of puking your guts up with the vampire cure to give your hot-as-hell husband a proper kiss?” Letting you go, he wiped his machete off on the shirt of one of the headless bodies and then headed toward the water pump just outside the barn doors. “I must be losing my touch!” he joked as he began pumping to fill the trough below the faucet.

You joined him in cleaning both your weapons and yourselves, enjoying the clear spring air and bright sunshine warming your back, and soon you were able to safely risk showing your affection. As did every other part of you, your lips fit together perfectly. Dean kissed you so well, you wondered how you ever thought anyone else was any good at it. He took over all your senses, making little happy noises when your tongue slid against his, surrounding you with his arms, filling your nose with the scent of his aftershave and sweat, and leaving the taste of the pie he’d had with breakfast in your mouth. You finally came up for air, still trading little nibbly kisses until you both accepted that the hunt wasn’t done, yet, and you needed to finish it. You stayed in his arms an extra moment, foreheads touching, both reaffirming that you were still here - still alive - and uninjured after the fight.

“Love you,” you whispered, looking through your lashes at the bright green of Dean’s eyes. They always seemed greener in the spring, somehow.

“Ditto,” he whispered back, before landing one last peck on your lips and smacking your ass playfully.

“You’re lucky I love you, or I would have told Sam how you watched that movie, and enjoyed it, a long time ago!” you teased as the two of you split up to head to Baby’s trunk and get cleaning supplies.

Walking ahead of you with those long legs, Dean turned around, walking backward for a step, and gasped loudly. “You wouldn’t!” he cried with eyes wide and his mouth turned into a pout, clearly knowing that you really wouldn’t, but playing your game, anyway.

“That’s right, I wouldn’t because I love you. Now, aren’t you lucky?” you scolded while still grinning.

He stopped you, cupping your face in his hands and kissing you, yet again. “Luckiest man in the world,” he echoed, before turning away and unlocking the trunk.

While Dean was digging through the trunk to find a matchbook to go with the can of gas you were holding, you saw something move out of the corner of your eye. Years of hunter awareness sent the hair on the back of your neck standing up while you searched the nearby tree line for another sign of movement. The barn was in the back forty of a farm abandoned at least a decade earlier, so wildlife of all kinds had taken over. The tree line was nothing more than just that: a line of trees that marked the edge of the farm. Over the years, bushes and smaller trees had filled in the gaps between the larger trees, making it a more formidable barrier. Where you guessed you might have been able to see through it years ago, now, it was overgrown and impenetrable. Except for the driveway the vampires had tamed, the grass in the surrounding fields was all knee-high and waving in the breeze. Figuring it was either one of the taller weeds in the grass or an animal, you convinced yourself to let it go as Dean slammed Baby’s trunk lid shut.

The barn had plenty of hay for kindling, but much of it had gotten wet from the holes in the roof. Dean was hauling bales and generally kicking up dust when you inhaled a bit and started sneezing uncontrollably.

“Head outside, honey, and I’ll finish up here,” Dean urged while you continued sniffling and sneezing. “Go use up some of those tissues you keep stashing in my car when you think I’m not looking!”

Not able to speak, you just nodded and headed back out into the sunshine, which started another round of sneezes. You were blowing your nose when you saw another bit of movement by the tree line. Keeping your eyes trained on the grass and bushes that had moved, you finished with the tissues and grabbed your gun from the holster on the back of your belt.

Gun trained in front of you, safety off, you slinked towards the tree line, keeping your eyes moving left to right, looking for another anomaly in the swaying of the grass and weeds. When you reached where you’d seen the movement, there were signs that someone had been standing there all around. Trampled grass, broken branches in the trees and bushes, and then footprints in the mud drew you further into the miniature jungle. You were almost out and on the other side when you were grabbed from behind, a hand put over your mouth to dampen your screams.

Whoever it was pulled you backward, knocking you off your feet so you stumbled. The body behind you spun you and pushed you up against a tree, knocking the gun from your hand in the process. You tried to shove an elbow back into their ribs, but it was caught, and you were pinned. Your mind swirled, going through the intel you’d gathered with Dean before the hunt. Both of you had been sure of the headcount, but obviously, you were wrong. One of them must have been away for a few days, but now they were home and pissed.

“Calm down, kiddo, I’m not a monster,” said a very familiar voice as you were pulled away from the tree, but still held tightly. “Just take a breath and relax and we can talk.”

A deep breath, a subtle shift in your body, and the picture in your mind became something almost like your husband, but not. Your muscles relaxed, trusting Dean no matter what was happening, even though your mind still whirled. Through the leaves of the trees and bushes, you saw your husband walk out of the barn, looking for something. Maybe looking for you.

“Of all the things I thought I might see when I walked into your dream, I really didn’t expect to see me.” The arms around you loosened and you whipped around to see a carbon copy of your husband standing there.

Well, almost a carbon copy. Different flannel. Different jeans. Fewer laugh lines around the mouth. Less unadulterated love and affection in the eyes.

“Dream?” you asked stupidly, looking back at your husband as he began searching for you around the barn. You didn’t want to believe it, but as you watched your husband in the distance, you saw the differences, the unreality. That didn’t stop your heart and mind from clinging to him, wanting nothing more than to go back to him.

The Dean next to you sighed. “Yeah, kiddo. I’m sorry, but it’s a dream. You got nabbed by a djinn. Sam’s off getting ingredients for the antidote, but I couldn’t just sit by and watch you dying, so I took some dream root.”

Your husband looked absolutely panicked as he ran towards another part of the tree line, searching for you. The sight pulled at your heart. How he missed your trail through the tall grass was a mystery. You’d have to tease him on his lack of tracking skills later when you got home, after the panic was over.

“I need to go let him know that I’m okay,” you whimpered, taking a step towards where your husband was beating back bushes looking for evidence of you.

Dean gently grabbed your elbow and stopped you. “No, kiddo, you really don’t. He’s not real.” With some effort, he turned you around so you were looking at him, this man who was so close, but not quite your husband. “I’m real, you’re real, and the crappy motel we’re asleep in out there in the real world, that’s real. But this is all crap. You can walk away from it all and come back to what’s real.”

Silent tears dripped down your cheeks. Your mind fought against it, but once the magic trick was revealed, you couldn’t go back to believing. Memories of working beside Dean for years, loving him quietly while he fought and died and came back and fought and died again… they rushed back in and overwhelmed you. Memories of a quiet confession of love, a small wedding, and a shared bed quickly took on the sepia tones of a fading dream. A sob ripped from your throat, and you covered your mouth with your hand to muffle it.

“So,” you croaked, sniffling through the tears, “everything… with him,” you nodded at your husband, still literally beating the bushes to find you, “all the…,” a sob stopped you until you could swallow it down, “all the everything with him, it was all a dream?” Turning back to the Dean in front of you, your heart ripped in two. “Just a stupid fucking dream?” His face twisted as he looked down to avoid your eyes, but he still nodded. “And now you’re telling me that I have to leave?” He nodded again, his eyes still on the ground instead of on you.

Your husband was getting closer. He’d see you in a minute. He’d hold you, and comfort you, and love you the way this Dean never would. You could go home with him, go back to the Bunker, where Sam and Eileen were teaching hunter classes to Jody’s girls and a few other new recruits. Jack and Cas were fixing Heaven but always visited for Sunday dinner. Eileen was pregnant, and you were going to be a godparent, and Dean had already built the crib and bought the biggest stuffed unicorn you’d ever seen. You could go home with him and live an entire lifetime with him and your family until the djinn poison took you.

“No,” you declared. “I don’t have to leave. It’s my choice. I can stay if I want. Even if I know it’s a dream, I can stay here.” Looking at the real man your husband was based on, you shook your head and stepped away from him. “Maybe it’s just a dream, but it’s my dream, and I’m staying.”

Your husband crashed through the bushes and finally caught sight of you, with another Dean holding your elbow in one hand. His gun came up, the safety clicked off, and you stepped in front of the real Dean. The move stopped him from firing but didn’t quell his confusion.

“What’s going on, babe? You know that’s not me, right?”

You nodded, tears still streaming down your face. “I know, but don’t shoot. Please don’t hurt him,” you begged. “Just trust me, okay?”

Pushing Dean’s hand from your arm, you walked toward your husband, arms outstretched. He pulled you close and hugged you tightly, gun still pointed somewhat at the other Dean, murmuring about how worried he’d been when he couldn’t find you.

“Who is this guy, anyway? What’s going on?” he asked you, talking into your hair as he held your head against his shoulder with one hand and continued watching his prey suspiciously.

You’d never felt as safe and loved as you did in Dean’s arms. It didn’t matter where in the world you were, or what was happening around you, in Dean’s embrace was your happy place. You’d do anything to stay there. Even die.

“Nothing you need to worry about, honey,” you reassured him, pulling away so you could look him in the eye. “He’s leaving and I’m staying with you. Till death parts us, and then beyond, like I promised.” Cupping his head with your hands, you kissed him, promising to uphold your vows with every fiber of your being.

“Even if it’s only a dream?” your husband asked, his eyes closed as he touched his forehead to yours.

The surprise that he would acknowledge it rocked you, but your decision stayed the same. Nodding, you glanced back at the other Dean – the real Dean – meaning to say goodbye. What you saw there made you pause: pain reflected in glassy eyes.

“It doesn’t have to be a dream,” he said, almost too quietly for you to hear.

You and your husband froze. “What did you say?” you replied, feeling your thoughts move too slowly to fully understand everything that was happening.

“I said,” Dean answered, taking a deep breath, “It doesn’t have to be a dream.”

Your husband felt you pulling away and tightened his hold on you, tugging your chin so you were looking him in the eye. “I love you, honey, and I love our life and we’re gonna live whatever the badass version of ‘happily ever after’ is, remember?” Tears blurred your view of your husband, but you could see the future with him so clearly. “Sammy and Eileen are gonna have their baby, and we’re gonna have the cutest damn niece or nephew ever, and Claire and Kaia are gonna get married, and we’re gonna do the robot at the reception and embarrass the crap outta them, and we’re gonna keep killing monsters until my knees get creaky and your back gives out, and then we’re gonna retire and help Garth with his monster rehab and teach hunter classes in the bunker, right? Maybe get a little house nearby with a porch we can sit on in the evenings and watch the sunset from our rocking chairs. That’s the plan, right?”

Foreheads pressed together, eyes closed, you both sniffled and nodded in agreement.

“Look, I can’t give you a niece or nephew, or a fancy wedding for the girls, or monster rehab and hunter classes,” Dean said from behind you, “but I can give you nights on Baby’s hood watching the stars, and bad jokes while I stitch you up, and the best bottom-shelf bourbon with a side of diner food after a bad hunt.”

Pulling away from your husband a little, you turned your head to hear Dean’s words.

“I can’t promise we’ll get a little house with a porch and a pair of rocking chairs, but I’ll chase the sunset with you in Baby any night you want. Or, if you want to stay in, we can cuddle on my memory foam and watch movies.”

The arms around you loosened, allowing you to turn around, and you could finally see the emotion in Dean’s eyes.

“I’ve wanted to be with you for so long, I can’t even tell you when it started. All I know is that I’ve always thought you deserved the best, and that’s not me.” He waved at your husband, who had let go of all of you except your hand. “He’s better than me, this world is better than me, and if he were real, if this were real, I’d let you go off and live this life without a single regret.” He shook his head, heaved a deep breath, and shrugged. “But it isn’t real – he isn’t real – and you’re not going to live happily ever after, you’re going to die, and I can’t do it. I can’t let you die if there’s anything I can do to stop it. So, this is me, asking for what I want: a future with you. A future where nothing is certain except that I’ll always do whatever I can to make you happy.”

The last link to the dream faded as you dropped your dream husband’s hand and stepped towards Dean. The world around you changed somehow, the colors turning once again to the sepia tones of the dream that it was.

“I always thought you didn’t think of me that way,” you said, your voice trembling with nerves.

“I’ve always thought of you that way,” Dean replied. “But you were so out of my league, I didn’t think you’d ever think of me like that!”

Staring into each other’s eyes, you both chuckled and then reached out towards each other, clasping your hands and moving closer together. Dean had the beginnings of a goofy smile, and you felt it matched on your own face.

“You really mean it? You really want to be with me?” you asked, needing to hear it just one more time.

“How about you shake off this dream and I show you for real?” Dean suggested, bending over, pulling your trusty knife from your boot, and handing it to you.

Holding the knife in your hand, you felt the rightness of it click into place. Dean had given you this knife shortly after you’d met. He’d picked it out with everything about you in mind. It had engravings on the blade and handle that you thought were beautiful, and the handle was a perfect size and shape for your hand. Looking at it, you marveled at how it was so perfectly you, perfectly Dean, and just all-around perfect. Dean had always loved you, and everything about the knife proved it.

“What do I need to do?”

Dean gestured towards his double standing opposite you.

The other Dean – your dream husband – began backing away. “Honey, no! It’s me! We can fix this! It will feel like a lifetime, but you’ll be safe here! No monsters can kill you here! Eileen’s gonna have a girl and that little warrior princess is gonna wrap me and Sammy around her little finger! There are gonna be tea parties! Don’t you want to see all of that?”

In his rambling, he slowed just enough that you were able to catch up to him and slam the knife into his gut. He doubled over, falling to the ground in a heap. As he bled out, still babbling about how life would have been perfect with him, the dream faded to black.

You woke with a gasp, Dean waking in a similar manner at the same time next to you. You both sat up, looking around the room and patting yourselves down. When your breathing settled, all the aches and pains from being strung up by the djinn slammed into you and you groaned.

“Oh, God, that hurts,” you complained, holding your neck where the thick gauze bandage was covering your wound. Looking down at yourself, you saw the dirty clothes and felt the skunky funk that came from being held captive in a dank basement for most of a day.

Gesturing to yourself in all your post-captivity glory, you commented to Dean, “Are you sure you still want to be with me? I mean, I’m not much of a prize.” Although you were supposedly joking, deep down you were giving Dean an out. Just in case he’d only said what he’d said to save your life, and not because he’d meant it.

Dean shifted on the bed until he was sitting right next to you and then carefully cupped your head with his hands so you could only see him.

“I will always want to be with you,” he said, solemnly looking into your eyes so you would see the truth of his words. “You are the best prize. Better than the prize in any cereal box.”

And then he kissed you.

It wasn’t as flawlessly perfect as the kisses you had in your dream – your teeth clashed a little in the beginning, and Dean tasted a little like the chili lime beef jerky you didn’t like – but it was perfect for you.

[harrytpotter]

RIGHT PLACE, WRONG TIME — Part VI

Plot: Y/N finds herself trapped in a time in which she doesn’t belong only to learn that maybe that was her place all along.

Pairing: James Potter x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3,2K.

Right Place, Wrong Time Masterlist.

A/N: Sorry it took me so long to update RPWT, I was kinda stuck with this as I had a few ideas as where to go with this story so I was debating which one to choose. Hope you guys like this chapter, it was my favorite to write so far! :)

You were climbing the stairs of the Astronomy Tower at late night, a piece of parchment kneaded into your hand. You felt an unsettling tension in the air as you approached the door and closed your fingers around the handle. Something wasn’t right. A voice in the back of your head screamed desperately at you, commanding you to leave immediately and return to the safety of your dorm. You brushed the feeling and the voice off as you thought about the message you’ve got.

Y/N, please, meet me on the top of the Astronomy Tower. I’m in trouble. You’re the only one who can help me. Please. Come alone.

Wormtail

Peter was your friend and he needed you. You could feel the urge arising from the letters as you read the letter. It felt like a crying for help, a suffocated scream. You could never turn your back on the fourth Marauder, you knew he’d always be there for you and everyone. Even if he was acting all sketchy and gloomy lately.

A lump starts to form in your throat as you start to rotate the black knob, a chilly stream of air making your hair stand on end. Sighing, you opened the door at once, finding Peter staring at the school grounds in the other end of the room.

“Wormy?” You called softly, gazing at his back.

Peter sighed heavily, almost in disappointment, as he heard your voice. The short boy slowly lowered his head and faced the floor hesitantly.

“Wormy?” You repeated, a little firmly than before. “What’s going on?”

“Y/N...” he muttered with a shaky voice before turning to face you.

Peter had tears rolling down his face and pointed his wand at you with a trembling hand. He looked like a complete mess.

“Peter what are you doing?” You widened your eyes as you rose your arms, trying to make a sense out of this situation.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry...” he mumbled amidst a sob. “I didn’t wanna do this... I didn’t... I didn’t want to... please, believe me.”

“You don’t have to do this, Pete. Whatever this is that you think you have to, you don’t,” you furrowed your brows as you tried to reason with him, cursing yourself mentally for having left your wand back at your dorm.

“I have to!” He screamed in despair suddenly. “I have to! If I don’t to this, he’ll kill you. The Dark Lord will kill you and I both!”

“The Dark Lord? Peter what have you done?” Your nostrils inflated out of shock and fear. “Are you working for him?”

“I... I am, I’m sorry,” he cried harder. “Mulciber recruited me, they... they made me feel powerful... they made me feel special.”

“Peter you can’t trust them. This isn’t you! You’re my friend!” You started to shout as you felt the tears rolling furiously down your face.

“I am! I am your friend! You have been nothing but kind to me ever since we met!” He sobbed. “That’s why I am here. He wants me to kill you, Y/N! Kill you!”

“Wormy... please don’t do this...” you whispered terrified.

“I’m sorry, Y/N...” he said before raising his wand and cast a spell.

Your vision was blurred from the tears, you couldn’t see anything. You couldn’t hear anything. You didn’t even hear the spell he used. The only thing you could see were the faces of James, Sirius, Remus, Lily and Marlene. And then you saw nothing but darkness. A deafening but peaceful darkness.

You are awakened by a sudden nudge as Lily worriedly lifted your torso and hugged you.

“Shh, you’re okay, it was just a bad dream,” she whispered into your ear as you hugged her back as tightly as you could, gasping for air as the tears streamed down your eyes.

“I- I...” you mumbled, unable to form a coherent sentence.

Lily just hugged you in silence until you were feeling calmer. The redhead caressed your hair as she guided you through a breathing exercise.

“I need to speak to Dumbledore,” you said firmly as your breathing normalized.

“Y/N, it’s three in the morning. The Headmaster is probably asleep by now. We can go talk to him first thing in the morning.”

“No, Lils. It’s urgent, I have to speak to him now,” you got out of her embrace and hopped out of bed, putting on your shoes.

“Y/N! Wait!” Lily exclaimed behind you as she followed you out of the room to the stairs of the boys’ dormitory. “Where are you going?”

“I need the map and James’ invisibility cloak,” you answered her without even turning around, climbing the stairs to the door of their room.

Opening the door carefully, you entered the Marauders room and went straight to James’ bed, bending on the floor and pulling his trunk from underneath it.

“Are you just gonna raid his stuff?” Lily hissed at you from the door.

“Yes! Come help me, please!” You hissed back, opening his trunk as quietly as you could.

Lily helped you to go through James’ stuff as you searched his trunk for the enchanted piece of parchment and his invisibility cloak.

“Eww!” Lily exclaimed as she lifted disgustingly a piece of underwear you had thrown in the air and ended up landing on her shoulder.

“Sorry!” You widened your eyes apologetically as you grabbed the underwear and tossed it back inside his trunk.

“Y/N? Lily? What the bloody hell are you two doing?” James’ sleepy voice startled you. 

The messy-haired boy sit on his bed as he picked his glasses up from his nightstand and put them on. He then stared confused to the two of you.

“I’m just helping her!” Lily shrugged quickly.

“She is. I just need to borrow the map and your invisibility cloak, please,” you sighed, closing your eyes thoughtfully for a brief moment.

“Sure, you-“ he trailed off as he took a good look on your face, stained from the tears. “What happened love? Were you crying?”

As tears suddenly began to float once again down your eyes and you failed to answer, Lily said, “she had a nasty nightmare. I woke her up when I saw her shaking and mumbling.”

James kneeled down on the floor in front of you and took you in his arms, hugging you tightly. You rested your forehead in the crook of his neck as you returned his hug with equal force.

“You’re okay, I’m here love,” he whispered into your ear, caressing your hair and planting a kiss on the top of your head.

James had an unmatched calming effect on you so it didn’t take long for you to feel at ease and able to process your thoughts once again.

“Thank you, Jamie,” you kissed his shoulder and took a deep breath, inhaling the familiar smell of his shampoo and his musky cologne.

“I can always leave if you two need some privacy,” Lily teased and you could sense her smirk by the tone of her voice.

“That would be nice actually, thank you Evans,” James laughed.

“Aren’t the two of you delightfully funny?” You said sarcastically as you let go of James and stood on your feet. “The map and the cloak please?”

Winking at you, James stood up as well and quickly grabbed them from a drawer and handed them to you.

“Why do you need them anyway?” He asked with a brow furrowed.

“I solemnly swear that I am up to no good!” You exclaimed at the map, touching it with your wand. “I need to speak to Dumbledore,” you added, unfolding the parchment and placing it in James’ bed.

“You do realize it’s three in the morning, right?” James asked casually as he fished his trunk for clean clothes.

“Yes,” you stared at the map looking for Dumbledore’s footprints but studied James with your peripheral vision. “What are you doing?”

“Putting some clothes to go with you, of course,” he shrugged as he guided himself to the bathroom.

“I’m coming too!” Lily said quickly.

“Neither of you are!” You quirked a brow at her.

“Oh but I am! Don’t know about Evans, but I come with the cloak, sorry love,” James shouted from inside the bathroom.

“Would you keep it down? You’re going to awake Remus and Sirius!” You hissed at him, getting closer to the bathroom door.

James opened the door suddenly and you had to dodge it in order to avoid being hit, falling straight into his arms. He grabbed you by your waist and pulled you against him to help you not to lose your balance.

“Thank you,” you whispered after a while, lost in his hazel eyes. You could feel his warm breath on your face, engulfing you, and your thoughts involuntarily travelled back to the passionate kiss you had shared a few weeks back.

“Love?” James sighed heavily after a while.

“Y- yeah?!” You mumbled back.

“I know you’re dating Diggory, so if you don’t want me to kiss you right now, you need to get away from me,” he said as he rested his forehead in yours, his eyes closed and his breathing unsteady. One of his hands were now cupping your right cheek and you realized you had pinned him against the wall.

“Oh, Godric!” You panicked as you let go of him, your cheeks heating up furiously. “James I’m so sorry!”

“You have nothing to apologize for love,” he reassured you. “And L/N... you look even cuter when you blush,” he added, winking at you and approaching the bed to pick up the cloak you had left alongside the map.

Your cheeks were burning and you were sure you looked as red as Lily’s hair.

“Oh. My. God!” Lily muttered soundless as you looked at her. She had a satisfied grin on and was buzzing at the scene she had just witnessed.

“Shut up!” You muttered back and rolled your eyes, joining James afterwards.

“So, Dumbledore is pacing inside his office... Merlin, does he ever sleep?” James furrowed his eyebrows in the most adorable way.

You couldn’t help but giggle at the comment he had made, staring sweetly at him.

“What?” He smiled.

“Well, let’s just say I’m glad you exist, Potter,” you said, noticing he blushed at your words.

“Right back at you, L/N,” he smiled at you with adoration stamped on his face.

After staring sweetly at you for a while, James took the invisibility cloak in his hands and got closer to you — your faces almost touching for the second time that night — straightening his arms behind you to stretch it out.

“What are you doing?” You asked with a dumbfounded look as you felt his arms brush the sides of your waist when you rested your hands on his chest to keep a minimal distance between the two of you. Your body tensed up just at his slightest touch.

“Don’t worry, love. Even though I really want to, I’m not gonna do anything to you,” he whispered, his eyes piercing yours with a burning longing. James then lifted the cloak above you and him without breaking eye contact when a sudden clear of a throat snapped the two of you out of your own little world.

“Oh, Evans! Right! Let’s go,” he addressed Lily and held the cloak high for her to join you two.

“You know what? I’m feeling a little sleepy, you two go,” she said with a teasing grin, not waiting for an answer to leave.

“Guess it’s just you and me then, love,” James shrugged with a smile before letting the cloak fall and wrap the both of you.

——————————————————————

 The journey to Dumbledore’s office had been a tense one. James had to walk extremely close behind you to avoid your feet from being seen in case you stumbled upon someone. This way, his hands were clutched on your waist and you could feel his breath on your neck, causing a heat wave to spread across your body.

“You alright there, love?” He asked as you shifted uncomfortably. You didn’t have to look at him to know he was grinning.

“Peachy!” You retorted ironically.

“I figured, since you seem to be enjoying all this proximity,” he teased with a laugh.

“Are you seriously flirting with me right now, James?” You rolled your eyes even though he couldn’t see it.

“Have been for the entire night actually.”

You didn’t answer him nor opened your mouth until you were facing the big gargoyle that led to the Headmaster’s office.

“Bugger me,” you murmured at yourself as you got a glimpse of the secluded stairwell, getting off the invisibility cloak.

“What’s wrong, love?” James asked as he took off the cloak from himself, his right arm sliding upwards to wrap your shoulders. 

“Do you happen to know the current password so we can go up there?” You turned your head to James, a wry smile on your lips.

Before James could answer, Dumbledore’s voice waved from behind the both of you, “it would be Fawkes.”

You and James turned quickly to face him, being welcomed with a warm smile by the Headmaster.

“Professor!” James exclaimed. “We know it’s late but Y/N here needs to speak to you. It’s quite urgent, if you could please hear her out…”

“Follow me,” Dumbledore answered, sending a knowing smile your way before approaching the gargoyle stairwell. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he was quite amused to see James fighting for your needs. The bare thought set your cheeks on fire.

The statue started to spin at the mere presence of the Headmaster, revealing the hidden stairs. Dumbledore went up the steps and, with a shrug at each other, you and James followed him. Nobody had said a word during the short way, until the door of Dumbledore’s office came in view.

“I believe it’s best if you wait out here, Mr Potter,” Dumbledore told James, pointing to a bench laying against the wall.

James looked at you hesitantly before nodding at Dumbledore and plopping himself down in the said bench. “I’m here if you need anything,” he told you before you followed the Headmaster into his office.

When Dumbledore closed the door behind him, you let out a sigh you didn’t even realise you were holding back and gazed to the ground.

“What’s on your mind this fine night, Miss L/N?” Dumbledore asked you kindly whilst resting his hand on your shoulder and guiding you to his desk.

Allowing the Headmaster to lead you, you started walking beside him. “I had a dream.”

“A dream?” He repeated questioningly, lifting a brow in the process.

“Well, not exactly a dream, it was more of a nightmare…” you started to explain as you finally reached the chair destined to guests placed across his desk.

“Go on,” he encouraged you as he took his own seat.

“I dreamed about Wormtail,” you said bluntly. “Peter Pettigrew,” you added at the confused look Dumbledore gave you.

Dumbledore pondered for a few seconds and, as if something had clicked inside him, his eyes widened. “I need you to tell me exactly what happened in this dream. You can’t leave anything out, Y/N.”

Nodding, you started to guide Dumbledore through your nasty nightmare. You told him everything, from the unsettling feeling in the pit of your stomach as you found yourself nearing the Astronomy Tower to the sobbing mess you were once Lily woke you up. The Headmaster absorbed your every word, an unreadable expression expanding on his face as the story went on.

“This… this changes everything,” he muttered at himself, nodding whilst staring into space.

“What do you mean, Professor?” You frowned.

“Do any of the boys seem to remember about Mr Pettigrew?” He asked, blatantly ignoring your previous question.

“No, I- I don’t think so,” you shook your head. “I didn’t even remember him myself before this night, it’s like…”

“He never even existed,” he completed your sentence. “I don’t think this was a nightmare, Miss L/N.”

“Then what the bloody hell was it?” You asked him, eyes widening.

“A memory,” he whispered, staring intensely into your eyes. “Tell me something, Y/N… Do you remember about James’ and Lily’s faith?”

“Yeah, I remember they died to protect Harry,” you shrugged, not sure where he was going with all those questions.

“Do you know why they had to protect him?”

“Because… because…” you started to go through your memories furiously. You knew the answer, you know you knew. And yet, your mind was a blank void.

“You can’t remember, can you?” He asked calmly.

“Professor, what’s going on?” You inflated your nostrils, the same unsettling feeling you felt in your dream getting a hold of you. “I thought you had said this is an alternative version of the past or something like that,” you almost yelled in desperation.

“It is. This is what life would be if...” He trailed off, seemingly wrapped in his own memories.

“If?” You asked, driving his attention back to the present.

“If Peter hadn’t done what he did to you,” he said in a whisper.

“If he hadn’t kill me, you mean,” you shrugged ironically.

“He didn’t kill you. He couldn’t drive himself to do so.”

“There’s more to it than what you’re telling me, isn’t it? About Peter, about my past - or should I say present?”

Dumbledore smiled proudly at you. “You always were one of the most insightful witches I’ve ever met.”

“I suppose you’re not telling me the whole story just yet, so I’ll just skip to my next question," you shrugged. “Who is this Dark Lord Peter and I had talked about? It’s like I know the answer is buried deep down inside my own head but I… just can’t find it. It’s like the more time I spend here…”

“The foggier your future memories become,” Dumbledore completed your sentence for you once again. “Just be glad you don’t remember him for now.”

You pursed your lips together at the vague answer he gave you, but you knew there was no point in arguing with him. Dumbledore has always done things his own way, so you just figured you’d save your energy.

“Can I ask you something else?” You look into his eyes.

He just nodded, his blue eyes twinkling from behind this half-moon spectacles as he eyed you curiously.

“Why aren’t Lily and James in love with each other yet? By the timeline of their relationship, they should be together by now.”

“Like I said, this is what life would’ve been if you… had been here,” he answered you mysteriously, a smirk on his lips.

“And you just left me with even more questions, Professor,” you lowered your head and massaged the bridge of your nose with your fingers.

“It’s late, Miss L/N, you should get some sleep,” Dumbledore said and you knew this was your cue to leave.

Your head was spinning when you left Dumbledore’s office to meet a very anxious James Potter waiting for you outside.

“Are you okay, love?” He asked, rushing to you. “Somehow you look even more distraught than you looked before.”

You stared into space, unable to put your thoughts together. The quick conversation you had had with the Headmaster had left you a thousand times more confused and somehow frightened than before.

“Do you want me to go get Diggory?” He frowned worriedly. “I don’t know their password, but I’ll put that Hufflepuff Basement down if I have to.”

You chuckled wholeheartedly at James before wrapping him into a hug. “That’s okay, you’re all I need.”

James smiled as his heart stubbornly raised its beating rhythm.

——————————————————————

Taglist: @treestarrrrrrrr @fanfic-enthusiast-collector @jgtfvhsg @jullianerey @silver-winter-wolf​ @ladylizziesficsaves 

[unokins]

No Truth Left - part 3

CW: Violence, body malformation

Link to Archive

Not even a second of deliberation and Chie ran for the caves. The collapsing house was a certain dead end. At least she could hope for safety in the twisting tunnels. Her lungs burned and legs ached as she stumbled past the cave's mouth.

A jutting rock caught her foot. Chie fell with a hard thud, hands scraping on the black stone. The squelching pattering and inhuman grunting grew louder. 

The ground in front of her dropped away to a steep, almost vertical slope. Darkness veiled the descent. If she jumped and broke her leg- or worse, her back- Chie glanced behind her, and a thick shadow stretched across the ground outside. 

"Oh God, oh God." Chie pulled herself behind a box, drawing her knees up. She squeezed her eyes shut and clamped her hands over her ears, as if that would protect her.

It's following your footprints. The masculine derision rang in her ears and Chie's eyes snapped open. Who kept talking!?

No one else hid nearby, but the mud from her shoes stamped the ground, advertising her position like a giant, pointing arrow. The stench of rotting fish rolled off the figure as it approached. 

Even if you ran deeper into the caves, it'll follow. It knows your smell.

"Please, help me," Chie tried to say but the words stuck in her throat. All that escaped was a feeble whimper. Tears stung her eyes. She was going to die.

If we want to survive, you need to act. See that bottle? To your left?

Chie's head twitched, eyes alighting on an empty beer bottle. Its bottom had broken off in jagged pieces. Slowly, she nodded.

Pick it up by the neck. And get ready.

"I- I can't." Fear gripped Chie with icy fingers, nails digging into her muscles and freezing her to the spot. Her arm twitched uselessly.

Foreign frustration hit her like a sucker punch. Chie squirmed against it. If you don't fight back, the best you can hope for is a quick death. The voice growled animalistically, words reverberating in Chie's head. And I'm not letting your ineptitude kill me. Now pick up the fucking bottle. And get. Ready.

The shock of the rage, of feeling it like a writhing parasite from within, jolted Chie into grabbing the bottle and lifting it up, holding it awkwardly like a club. The alien emotion faded, leaving Chie with her own fear.

There you go, it purred sardonically. When I say go, jump up and attack it.

"How? What do I-" A foot slapped down in front of Chie.

It didn't look like something out of a horror movie. The horror movies she watched with her roommate didn't come close to capturing the grotesque- had never elicited such a visceral fear response from her. 

The foot was bloated like a corpse's, mottled blue and green scales bulging at irregular intervals. The skin under was a ghastly gray, dark purple veins threading across it. Instead of nails, chipped, black claws adorned the webbed foot and scraped the ground. As the thing shifted its weight, water oozed from between the cloudy scales like puss.

Go!

She forgot how to breathe, couldn’t pull her eyes from the horrific foot. Even as it loomed over her. Closer. A long, webbed hand reached for her.

Damn you, girl!

Chie's legs reacted without her. Her knees snapped straight, rocketing her up. Gripping the bottle tight, she squeezed her eyes shut and screamed as she swung it. Shattering glass filled her ears, echoing through the cave, and the creature screeched in pain. A crack, a thump. Chie stood there, arm raised, entire body shaking. She gripped the broken bottle like a drowning woman held a piece of driftwood. Something wet dripped down her arm.

You need to open your eyes.

"Just-" hoarse, caught in her throat. Chie coughed. "Just tell me what happened."

I can't if your eyes are closed.

That made no sense. Chie didn't move.

Open your eyes now. Whoever was talking was losing their patience. And try not to faint.

Chie opened one eye a fraction of an inch and immediately turned her back to the creature, head spinning. "Oh my god, oh my god." Her body shook uncontrollably. "What is that? What- what's-"

A nice hit. Think you got it across the jaw.

Staggering to the crate, Chie placed the broken bottle on top and sank to the ground, back to the monster. She gripped her arms, trying to stop the shaking. Black stone. Mundane. Normal. She stared at it blankly, ignoring the purple blood that stained her hand. Breathe. Breathe. Calm down.

What are you doing? Move.

"I-" Chie clamped her mouth shut and swallowed. "I don't know- I mean." She took another breath. "Who are you? And where are you? I-"

One thing at a time. The voice stopped yelling, at least. I only remember two things about myself. My name is Maverick Hunter, and I'm being chased.

"By who? Or... what?"

I just told you. That perpetual annoyance seeped into the words. That's all I know. Can't tell you who or why.

“Sure.” Calmer now, Chie stood and turned to search the cavern, purposefully avoiding the fish-like thing lying on the ground. "So where are you?"

I'm in your head.

"Excuse me." That was ridiculous. Telepathy, seriously? Was this an elaborate prank? Was some LARPer wearing a super realistic fish costume? Chie scoured the cave for hidden cameras. 

I was attacked by whoever is chasing me. When I came to, I was looking out from your body and your eyes.

"This is insane," Chie said, hand to her forehead. "I'm going- I've had a breakdown. That's it." She didn't think she had a family history of Schizoaffective disorder, but work had been super busy lately and combined with the memory loss, maybe she just needed a good psychiatrist and some medical leave.

You're not crazy. You can't explain what's lying on the ground with crazy.

Chie's weak excuses soured in her stomach. 

"I'm leaving," she said, shaking her head as if to clear the voice from her. "It was not nice meeting you, Maverick."

Chie took one step forward and froze. The feeling in her legs vanished and she was numb from the waist down. Her legs shook, muscles expending extraneous effort. But try as she might, Chie could not move forward.

Now you listen to me, you stupid little bitch. Maverick's voice was low, straining, and hinted towards boiling anger. I have come too far for you to turn back now. I may not have the energy to control you fully right now, but I sure as fuck can stop you.

Chie strained her back, forcing herself to move. Her shoulders twisted and her arms reached forward, but her legs remained petrified. "Why can't I move?!"

Because I'm here! Stuck inside your weak little body, and it's time you accept that. Now do as I say, or I'm going to hold you here until that thing wakes up. And whatever horror you're subjected to? I will happily watch. 

"How are you- Why are you-?!" Chie cried. This was impossible. This was impossible! 

Because I need to know why I'm like this, why I'm being pursued. And as long as we're stuck together? They're after you by association. Your friends. Your family.

Chie flinched. Who were these people to do this? She- this couldn't be real. She couldn't-

The monster on the floor gurgled. Chie's resolve faltered.

Maverick was gentler when he spoke next. We can't afford to turn back. There are answers here we need to find. Okay?

Chie nodded numbly. "Okay. Okay- I- I can. I can do this." Like a rubber band snapping, Chie's legs jolted. She fell forward, twisting to regain her balance. The thought of falling on that thing was horrendous. 

Maverick sighed, energy spent. Go through the crates over there. 

Why, Chie wondered, did a disembodied voice need to sigh? Thoughts whirled together incoherently but Maverick was right: unexplainable things were happening to her. They needed answers.

She removed the crate's lid and dug around inside. Flashlight, rope, beer, snacks, pocket knife, a small backpack, more beer. What kind of person had bagged cookies and peanuts but no water?

Oh, that's perfect! Maverick's glee when Chie picked up a large army knife was worrisome. She set it aside as she filled the backpack with food and supplies. Once done, she slid it free from the sheath, and held it up for Maverick.

Okay, take that knife and kill the fish monster.

"Excuse me?!"

It's the only one that knows we're here. Killing it will buy us time until the others-

"There are more?!"

-find its body. If it's alive- Maverick's voice grew low again, and Chie could almost feel hands on her shoulders as if he held her still. -it won't be long before it warns the others and the Devil's Reef is swarming with them. I won't tell you again. Kill it.

Chie couldn't bring herself to look at it. And Maverick expected her to kill it? She had sobbed when she accidentally ran over a squirrel last year. To deliberately kill a living thing? One that was unconscious? Even if it had attacked her-

Chie. Maverick said sharply. 

>Kill it >Spare it

[awkward-tension-art]

Put on a Show

So @weebsinstash has an incredible yandere!erasermic x reader series go read everything they write, its fantastic

I wanted to play around with the idea too, so i asked for permission on anon lol.

enjoy this full 2,090 words

Warning: yandere themes, yandere!erasermic, League of Villains, fear, mentions of past torture, mentions of abuse, mentions of past abusive relationship, implied  Spinner x Reader, kissing, Villain origin story, female pronouns used for reader, (if i missed a tag lmk)

You ran. You ran as fast and as far as you could. Your bare feet hit the wet ground, cursing as you stumbled. Your hands hit the mud, but you didn’t stop.

Even when your lungs screamed.

Even when your muscles burned.

You kept going.

With luck, a razor and your own wits you had managed to escape that hell house. You’d managed to escape from the clutches of your obsessed demons. 

At the slight thought of your tormentors, the now healed break in your leg aches all over again. 

Keep going.

Keep going.

KEEP GOING.

The woods betrayed you before, but hopefully, the downpour may erase your footprints. A branch latched onto your shoulder and you screeched. Memories of Aizawa’s cruel grasp flooded your mind. You slipped on the wet ground, tumbling down a slight incline. 

Dazed, confused and hurt, you ignored your pain and kept going. Desperation and adrenaline kept you going.

Do not stop.

Do not stop.

You looked down to avoid losing your eyes to another branch, only to embarrassingly run straight into a tree. Your body fell back, landing harshly on the mud.

You heard a groan.

Trees do not groan.

Fear overran your systems as you slowly, shakily looked up.

In front of you was a man covered in green scales. He looked more like a lizard, than an actual human, but you quickly guessed that was his quirk. But, he wasn’t alone.

A scarred man with piercings. A teenage girl with blond hair. Another man with a mask. And lastly…

You recognized him from the news.

Shigaraki.

The League Of Villains

“What the hell,” The lizard-man hissed, rubbing his head, “Where the fuck did you come from?”

You took your chances.

“Please…” you gasped, looking up at the white haired leader, “Help me.”

It took approximately 3 seconds to be taken from the forest. The scarred man, Dabi you learned, pulled out his phone and called Kurogiri, their method of transport. 

Spinner, surprisingly like a gentleman, helped you stand and introduced himself. 

Not a second later your vision was filled with black and you were out of the rain.

Out of the cold.

Out of the monsters’ clutches.

Instead, you found yourself in a surprisingly comfortable bar scene. It was warm, bright, and quite homey.

Shigaraki continued to stare at you, his red eyes giving away nothing. The blonde however, hovered, as she began to talk. You couldn’t keep up, exhaustion slowing your mind and mental process. All you managed to register is ‘blood’.

A tall woman spoke up first, “oh dear, look at you. You look like a wet rat.” She inspected you before standing straight, “Let me get you something dry.You can call my Big Sis Magne!”

You nodded, managing a small “thank you,” as she rushed out of the room to come back with a dry towel, draping it over you.

‘Huh, it smells nice,’ you thought, wrapping it around your shoulders, taking in the small comfort. Almost like roses and lavender…

The leader finally spoke up, “Who are you?”

That was the question. That one simple question caused the dam to burst. You broke down, telling them everything. The torture, the abuse, the agony, all by the hands of two supposed heroes. You went over every grueling, painful detail, tears pouring down your face. 

They knew of your captors and torture before they even knew your name.

With every word, The league members, especially Dabi, became more and more disgusted and angry. You didn’t even finish when Spinner offered a kind hand for you to hold onto. 

“P-please,” you finally managed, “D-don’t send me back…”

Shigaraki scoffed, “Heroes think they can just do whatever they want huh? Well fuck ‘em. Eraserhead and Present Mic want their precious treasure back? Well too bad. It’s ours now.”

Big Sis Magne let out a happy laugh, “Oh good! Another girl! If you ask me, only having Toga around was getting to be too much.” She took your other free hand, “We’re gonna be such a good team, those nasty heroes won’t know what hit them.”

“I can’t wait to make them pay with their blood,” Toga smiled, her golden eyes shining with excitement. Dabi remained silent, but Spinner gave you a kind smile. “What a show it will be! You, coming face to face with those demons, and having us at your back!” The one with the mask, Mr.Compress, finally spoke, giving a theatrical hand wave.

With every word, you felt your shoulders get lighter. 

“Now,” The leader, your new leader, spoke up, “Tell me all about your quirk, and those pieces of garbage that hurt you.”

When Shouta and Hizashi returned home, they knew something was wrong. The house seemed...cold. You were not in the living room, nor the kitchen. 

They assumed this was one of your bad days. Where you’d sleep until it was late at night, only so you can avoid them.

Quickly, that changed. 

The closer Shouta got to your door, the more he felt his gut twist. The air seemed wet and almost humid.

“Hey, are you awake in there?” He knocked, concerned, “I’m coming in!” 

When he opened the door, the wet air made sense. Your window was open, rain poured in from the storm outside. The carpet and everything else by the window was soaked, giving the hero a clue that you’ve been gone a while. 

“HIZASHI!” The black haired male called out, darting into the room. Desperately he looked around, only to look up when he heard his husband cry out. 

“She’s gone! Our songbird is gone!!” He panicked, aiding Shouta in his desperate search. The couple tore apart the house, hoping this was something else. Hoping you didn’t leave through the window. 

They hoped and prayed, only for their optimism to be dashed when their search turned up empty. 

“We need to go after her!” The blonde hero cried, “s-she could be hurt! She doesn’t know how to take care of herself!!” 

Shouta was already preparing to venture outside. He was at the door when he turned to look at his severely distressed husband, “stay here. In case she comes back, I’ll go look for her.” 

With that, Eraserhead ran out of the front door of the house, hoping to find you in the woods. 

Days became weeks became months. With every passing hour, you felt happier and lighter. Your spirit and soul were healing. It will take time, but you knew you were able to recover. You had escaped, and found a family who would ride or die with you. 

You’d ride or die with them. 

Spinner was especially kind to you. He was a gentleman, always asking before touching. You spent most of your free time with him when he or you weren’t gone collecting information or searching for members. 

You still weren't comfortable going on missions by yourself. Most of the them were with Dabi, Big Sis Magne or Jin, who you’d met shortly after your joining. Despite the short time with them, you felt like you belonged. You helped them, they helped you. You became a part of their family. 

They’d even gone so far as to get your cat Mochi back. Dabi simply dumped the kitty on your lap and walked away without saying anything. You missed your feline friend, and now in the league, he gets all the love the villains could muster. 

They try to keep sudden loud noises to a minimum. Occasionally a surprise yell or sound would happen, but someone was always quick to jump to your defense. 

It was mostly Shigaraki, but he’d apologize begrudgingly.

Even he wasn’t so bad. You had gone with Toga to get him a new controller, and he’s tolerated you ever since (maybe even respect you after you managed to beat him to a quick video game match). 

This was your life. This was your freedom. 

This was what you wanted. 

It’s been hell without you. Shouta and Hizashi were in hell. It’s been months since the eraser hero found your footprints surrounded by others. It’s been months of searching. Months of desperation to rescue you from your kidnappers. That’s the only logical reason for your disappearance. 

You were kidnapped. 

You needed them. You needed your lovers. 

But they couldn’t save you. 

Some nights Shouta would wake up alone. He’d be cold and lonely. Slowly he’d walk to your room, and find his blonde husband asleep, holding your favorite pillow. 

It stopped smelling like you a while ago. 

With every passing day their hope waned. With every passing hour their hearts ached. 

Shouta finally broke down one night. When he woke up alone again he wandered to your room, finding Hizashi in his usual position. Instead of being asleep, the blonde’s shoulders shook with muffled sobs and cries. 

The Eraser hero sat on the bed and held his husband, not bothering to muffle his own weeping. 

This isn’t what they wanted. 

The view from the roof was both beautiful and hilarious. You orchestrated a nomu attack, remaining hidden. Spinner was accompanying you. The others were scattered around the city, taking in the chaos. 

You remembered those roads and streets. You walked them for so long. 

Until those bastards stole you. 

Now, with your life in the league, you could stroll down the sidewalk again. You could see the sky and feel the sun. 

You could punish heroes for abandoning you. For letting you get kidnapped. 

A smile graced your lips. The chaos of the nomu was beautiful. 

There was a flash of black in the corner of your eye, and you turned your head. Slowly, your smile grew at the sight of Eraserhead struggling to take down the brutish monster. 

Only to have your smile fade when Present Mic saves him. 

“Ugh, I hate them.” You growled, “I see them and I hate them.” 

Spinner looked up from his spot on the roof. He swished his tail once before following your gaze to your distant tormentors.  

“You should put on a show,” he put a hand on your shoulder, “drive ‘em even more bat shit.”

You laughed warmly, the idea of breaking their hearts even more gave you infinite joy. 

“Mind if I use you?” You asked, preparing to use your quirk. 

With the villains you have gotten stronger. Your quirk was a weapon. A strong, powerful, useful weapon. 

You’re the opposite of what Shouta and Hizashi said over and over again. 

They can’t tell you that you're weak. Not anymore. 

There was a tipped over bus, and that’s where you planted the illusion. 

You and Spinner, hand in hand. 

Oh this is gonna be good. 

When they dealt with the Nomu, Hizashi looked to the bus, and even from a distance, you could see his eyes widen. 

“S-songbird!” 

You gagged, and Spinner laughed softly beside you.

Shouta looked up, meeting the illusions gaze. 

You feared he’d use his quirk, destroying your fun, but he didn’t, at least not in that instant. 

“G-get away from her!” The black haired male shouted, his black eyes trained on fake-spinner. 

“No,” the illusion spoke, “I think your precious songbird belongs to me.”

The illusion of spinner pulled illusion you closer. The illusion of you looking bashful.

Shouta prepared an attack, jumping up in the air to do so. Hizashi prepared his own quirk, apparently ok with sacrificing your well-being to get you. 

You cause fake-spinner to dip fake-you into a deep kiss. 

That was apparently distracting enough to cause Present Mic to choke on air, and Eraserhead to stumble and miss his attack. 

“Come on my sweet,” fake-you cooed, “let’s go.” 

You created one more illusion, covering the two fakes in smoke, making them disappear. 

As you finished with your quirk, you rubbed your temples. 

Spinner laughed beside you, “m-my sweet! Oh my god you killed me.” 

You gave a faint smile, that only grew when you heard Hizashi’s mournful howling. 

Spinner and you peered over the edge of the roof, and spotted the two of them breaking down. The blonde was wailing. You swear you saw his fat tears from your position. 

Shouta just looked broken. He looked absolutely devastated.

Maybe a long time ago that sight would have hurt you. 

You made eye contact with your partner next to you. 

“My sweet,” you teased, promptly bursting into laughter.

“Let’s go! Before they hear us!” Spinner tried to shush you, failing with his own giggling. 

You nodded and grabbed his hand. 

“Let’s go then,” you winked, “my sweet.”

The both of you fled, making your way to Jin and Toga. 

You smiled at the sight of them, only feeling happier as more of your family of villains got together. 

This is exactly where you wanted to be. 

A villain, to make those heroes suffer.

[tansypoisoning]

Yandere asks Prompt 35 with thor please ( if you write for him ) otherwise anyone of your choice

Not the best way to defend a fair maiden. Idk if I wrote Thor well - I think he sounds larpy.

Yandere asks

Warnings: Not very descriptive smut, alcohol drinking (reader is a bartender in this) anal play, oral sex (female receiving), yandere, violence, blood, gore and death of a side character.

When you landed on the County Line to work your first job as a bartender you were excited to make all the cocktails you’d spent hours perfecting. You should’ve known it was all for naught. Brentwood was a small town, filled with people with small minds; if someone ordered anything more complex than a rum and coke you had cause to celebrate.

Your days at the bar dragged by, and you longed to escape to a place that was less dead, where people gave you the chance to show your artistry. With your pay, that was nothing but a pipe dream.

That is, until he walked into the bar.

He was a beautiful man, and huge too. Unlike the locals, who dragged their tired feet to a seat and ordered their beers sullenly, he waltzed to the bar, a big smile on his face, slapped the counter-top and asked for your best drink.

“No preference?” You asked. This never happened.

“I’ll drink whatever you give me,” he declared, puffing out his chest “You are the mead master.”

You laughed. “Mead master? I like that.”

You mixed him a Last Word, and he chugged it down in one gulp.

“Another!” He called, setting the glass down with almost too much strength.

“The same one?”

“Anything you want to make.”

“Right, mead master,” you grinned.

You fed him drink after drink, at first worried that he was ingesting enough alcohol to kill him, but by the time the bar closed, he only looked a little buzzed. You felt a little buzzed too. His joy was just that contagious. He loved the Dark and Stormy, and he was very impressed with your Tiki drinks pyrotechnics. It was so refreshing to have someone who wanted to talk about fun subjects, and asked you questions and showed so much interest in your craft. Most clients spared you no more than a greeting, and the ones who did were usually just looking for someone to share their problems with, or trying to be sleazy. Not this guy, though. He was way too boisterous to be called a gentleman, but he was nice, and friendly, and respectful, and a respite from your daily grind.

Letting him wait for you while you locked the bar felt right, as it did letting him walk you home. You two made jokes on the way, laughing like old friends. The hand he would sometimes press against your waist or hip was very much not a friendly gesture, though.

You asked him up; asked him if he wanted coffee. Way past midnight. He kept his hand on your ass as you climbed the steps up to your studio apartment, above the drugstore. You two fell onto your bed, a heap of limbs pulling at clothes just as soon as you’d closed the door.

It was the best sex you’d ever had, and he had the biggest cock you’d ever had. It startled you when you reached into his pants to pull it out. He chuckled at your reaction, and watched as you stroke him to full hardness, fascinated. You were worried you might not be able to take him.

He ate you out, and he was unfairly gifted in that area too, making you cum with his tongue alone. You were face down on the mattress before you even knew what was going on. It was disorienting, but you couldn't say you were unhappy with the position.

With his fact cock in your pussy and two fingers in your asshole he brought you to one earth-shattering orgasm after another. You were sobbing on your pillows by the time he finally reached his own end.

You passed out with a heavy, yet surprisingly comforting weight on top of you.

The mysterious stranger came back to the bar the next night, and you got to ask him his name. Thor. Weird, but it suited him.

He was just as charming and just as eager to try your concoctions as before. The rest of the patrons all but vanished as you listened to him talk about how long he’d been in town, what he liked best about it and for how long he planned to stay. He gave you the impression his date of departure was malleable.

You went home with him again, and spent the better part of the night riding him. The other part you spent being bounced on his cock while he kissed your collarbone and breasts.

It became a daily thing fast. You’d wake up in the morning, slide from under his arm and watch him snooze on your bed like a big lazy cat while you made coffee. You’d eat breakfast together before sending him on his way while you went about your day, did your chores and ran your errands. He would already be waiting at the bar when your shift started, and he would sit at the counter while you served him drink after drink and you two talked until closing time. He’d walk you home and then fuck you senseless until the sun came up – then you’d do it all over again. This was the kind of routine you could get used to.

The sound of a shot glass hitting the wooden surface of the bar drew your eyes from the spot you were wiping. More than a week into your strange relationship, Thor was bright as ever and ready to imbibe as ever. Looking into his blue eyes, crinkling with his smile, you knew this would come to an end, likely sooner rather than later, but you were determined to enjoy his company while it lasted.

“Another!” He cried out and you laughed.

You were reaching for the wine to make his New York Sour when you heard one of the stools creak under the weight of another patron. You raised your head and smiled to the customer. You didn’t recognize him – probably from out of town. The grin you received in return wasn’t very charming.

“Can I get a beer, hun?” He drawled, emphasizing the last word.

“Sure.” You struggled to maintain your smile as you went back to your work.

You handed Thor his drink and filled a glass with beer from the tap. The stranger kept his eyes on you as he drained his cup, but you were lucky to have Thor there to keep your mind off of him.

“This is the best one yet,” Thor said.

“You only say that because I made it.”

“You have caught me,” he grinned, rising his hands in mock surrender. “I would drink anything that came from you.”

You placed a hand over your burning cheeks and turned away.

“Beer me,” the other man said, sliding his glass over the counter to you.

You filled it back up again and set it in front of him. This time, though, his fingers wrapped around your wrist before you could pull away.

“Excuse me...” You tried to free yourself from his hold while not calling attention to yourself.

“C’mon. Isn’t that why girls get jobs in places like this? To get attention?”

“Sir, you need to stop this,” you said, a little louder this time, pulling away harder.

His grin grew wider and sleazier. “You’re really gonna make me work-”

The man gasped when a third hand joined your tug o’ war contest. Thor had reached across the bar and grasped the stranger’s wrist, bending it at an awkward angle.

“Let go,” he said, his already deep voice even lower. A growl bubbled in his throat like a storm brewing inside of him.

“Hey, man,” the other gave a nervous giggle. “My bad. I wasn’t trying to steal your mark.”

You screamed when your arm was yanked up, then fell on your ass when your wrist was freed. There were shouts on the other side of the counter, then the loud noise of something crashing on the ground and a scream. You didn’t have the courage to stand up and see what had happened. It took your boss storming in from the backroom and pulling you to your feet while she yelled at the patrons.

“Get out!” She pointed at the scumbag who had harassed you and was now lying on the floor, crawling away from the broken stool just an inch away from him. She then turned to Thor. “You gotta leave too.”

He bristled at her request. “What?! I was defending her!”

“I don’t care. Just be thankful I’m not going to charge you for that stool. Get out before I call the cops.”

Thor’s breathing was labored, his powerful chest and shoulders rising and falling rapidly. He looked from your boss to you, his face contorted into an outraged scowl. He was so large – that had been a plus before, but now something inside you was afraid of his size, of what he could do with it.

With a final heave and a roll of his shoulders, Thor walked out of the bar, stepping over the man on the ground.

Your boss asked you if you needed the rest of the day off, but you declined. If you didn’t have something to occupy yourself you’d mull over what happened before you were ready to do it.

Even busy serving the customers that hadn’t left after that fight, you still found yourself thinking about what was no doubt the end of your relationship with Thor. Maybe he wouldn't even want to see you anymore, after you didn’t back him up. You were thankful for his defending you, but the way he went about doing it… You didn’t feel bad about the harasser, but the wrath in Thor’s eyes was paralyzing. You could barely look at him, let alone defend him.

You finished your shift and dragged yourself out of the building. Just knowing you’d not see Thor that night, that you’d probably never see him again, weighed on you like a ton of bricks. You’d grown more attached than you’d expected. You didn’t see yourself rejecting him if he came to the bar the next day to see you.

You weren’t paying attention as you made your way to your apartment, thus you only noticed the puddle on the ground when you stepped on it. It didn’t feel like rain. The fluid was too tacky for that. You started walking around the puddle and only stopped when you noticed you left a footprint.

Now fully awake, you examined your surroundings. The puddle was coming from an alley, and you couldn't see anything beyond it, but you could hear sounds from the darkness. There was a gurgling like a fountain pumping something thicker than water and a dull scratching. You didn’t know and you didn’t want to know what was hiding in the shadows, but your feet refused to run to safety.

The noises died down, leaving only a slow dripping behind. Something dropped to the ground and footsteps echoed in your direction. You could almost get your legs to move when a hand emerged from the shadows and pulled you in.

A wet palm covered your mouth before you could scream, and you were whirled around and pushed against a wall. You whimpered when your eyes adjusted to the dark and you recognized your captor. You had wanted to see Thor again, but now you weren’t happy to meet him.

“Finally,” he sighed, resting his free hand on your shoulder and letting it slide down your arms. His fingers felt warm and sticky. “I thought you were coming out sooner.”

“What are you doing here?” You tried pulling away and his hand squeezed your arm to the point it hurt.

“Waiting for you,” he frowned. “I’m sorry for how I behaved in the bar, and I’m sorry I rushed things.”

You were about to tell him you didn’t think he’d rushed anything when he adjusted his position and you spotted something on the ground. You thought it was a sack at first – you wanted it to be just a sack – but it was too large and too solid. You didn’t know how you recognized him, with blood staining his clothes and his face beaten into a pulp, but you knew this was the guy who had harassed you in the bar.

Your limbs started shaking. You couldn't tear your eyes from the bloodied corpse. It felt as if something perverse was holding your head in place and your lids wide open. Your lips parted, and even though you didn’t remember using them to say anything you must’ve had, because Thor began speaking again as if answering a question.

“I defended your honor! I thought you might like to watch his last moments, but I couldn't get him to stay alive longer.”

You finally managed to look at him again. The smile on his face turned into a pout when you remained silent.

“What’s the matter?”

You started shaking your head and you couldn't stop. “You killed him. You killed him. Why did you…?” Your voice dwindled to a whine and you didn’t know what you were saying anymore. At the corner of your eyes, you could still see the man lying on the ground. The ex-man. The pile of meat that was walking and talking and breathing just a while ago.

Thor held you by the shoulders as he peered into your eyes. It reminded you of the times he would look at you while you were having sex, too steady and too intense. It was clear now that all those times he’d looked at you, he saw you with feelings much stronger than the ones you had for him. “I was protecting you! I could tell what he wanted just by looking at him. He was a vermin.”

“Please let go of me.”

“No, no!” Thor shook his head and brought you even closer. “I can’t let you go. Do you know how many people like that exist? They’re countless! If you can’t protect yourself, and if none else is going to stand up for you… I felt this was destined, and now I know it is.” He moved his hands to the side of your face and held you in place as he leaned in. “I’m madly in love with you, and I will always protect you.”

He crashed upon you, his lips devouring yours and his body caging you against the brick wall. The taste of iron in his mouth, combined with the awful smell of the alley or the corpse, you couldn't tell, did something to you. Your head pounded and your stomach revolted, but before you could expel all its contents, the floor vanished beneath your feet and the world went dark.

[nakedmossy]

Depth Over Distance - Part Nine  [Rudy x Reader]

[A/N: Alright. So I know the last part was tough and I wont lie and say its all sunshine and roses from here, but I hope this part gives you a little bit of a breather. Enjoy it while it lasts.... Peace and love, Mossy x] 

You resurfaced.

Open your eyes. Ouch. Okay you’re not blind so that’s good.

Blood on your head, dried, you could smell burning plastic and raw metal and gas. It was dark out. Your body screamed at you in pain.

You moved, slowly, dear god it hurt to move.

Your hand to your forehead, dried blood. Your fingers, your toes, everything moving? Good. Okay next…legs. Can you move them? They hurt. But they’re moving. Arms? Obviously, you were lifting them to touch things. Are you breathing normal? No…there is definitely something wrong with your breathing. Or are you just panicking? Calm down. Control you’re breathing or everything goes.

Alright. Good. Next.

Straighten your back…yep. Okay, slowly now. Don’t move too fast. Where are you? You’re on the road. Right…okay but are you? Too dark to see…angle of the car is wrong but you’re not upside down. Try the handle. Okay that worked…the door is ajar already? Odd. Where is your phone? You’re so dizzy. Okay breathing…slow down slow down slow down. Calm. Relax. You’re okay.

Just…find your phone. Don’t cut your hands on the glass. Airbag is deflated and in the way. This is too difficult. Okay. Climb out first, take a deep breath. Then find your phone.

You climbed out of the car, slowly, using the dented frame of the door to pull and the seat to push. You were so dizzy that even moving as slow as you were you felt like you were on a roller coaster. This was bad. You groaned and held your breath until you were standing on your feet and took a shaky step away from the car, your hand moving to your forehead, feeling wet blood as your head started to pound. Shit.

You stood still for a few moments, focusing on your breathing and calming your nerves, tuning yourself to your surroundings. How far had you driven? Had you hit something? What happened?

Confused, you opened your eyes and looked around, feeling blood dripping down the side of your face. It was pitch black out, but one of your headlights was still on, allowing enough light to show you that you had spun 180 and hit the ditch. Okay, for sure the car was wrecked, but it wasn’t actually that bad. You let out a sigh and felt a pang in your side, flinching. You needed to find your phone, you needed to call for help.

As you walked slowly around the passenger side you realized it had stopped raining, but a fog had settled into the valley around the trees making it impossible to tell what part of the road you were actually on. You tried to think…you had probably driven 30-40 minutes before you crashed. You were closer to the cell tower than you were the cabin. You needed to find your phone, get to the clearing, and call someone.

Why were you shaking? God it was cold out.

Your mouth started to chatter uncontrollably and you felt yourself shiver from the wet cold air. You needed to hurry up. You cried out in pain as you tried to open the passenger door but couldn’t, your rib screaming in protest. Of course you couldn’t open it, the handle was broken. Idiot.

You hobbled back to the driver’s side and crawled slowly back into your seat, watching the broken glass from the windshield and careful not to slip onto it. You moved your hand slowly along the side of the seat and on the floor, finally feeling it nestled near the emergency break. You grabbed it and sat back in your seat, a shaky breath escaping your lips. Thank god. Thank god thank god.

You illuminated the screen and felt your stomach drop. It was 9:34 pm and the battery was at 6%. Alright. Time to get moving.

As you walked towards the road you realized how painful it was to move this much. You clenched your jaw and pressed your lips shut as you pushed forward along the side of the dark dirt road, the parts illuminated by your broken headlight were fading. As you felt tears well up in your eyes you looked up at the sky, the moon full overhead, and let yourself cry quietly, your lip quivering.

It was pain, shock, and adrenaline that was making this difficult but it was the same three things that kept pushing you forward.

Your Vans drug along the road loudly, rocks and dirt kicked up behind you as you left a trail of footprints leading away from the car. You wiped some of the blood and tears from your face and felt sounds escape you as you struggled to walk in a straight line and stay on the road in the dark. You heard something rustle in the tree line beside the road and a chill travelled up your spine, you had to keep moving.

After a long hour of blindly walking down the road trying to ignore how stiff your neck was and how much your ribs hurt you felt your phone buzz in your hand and your heart skip a beat. Service. You stopped walking and lifted your phone up, your hands shaking, as you saw the bars appear. Your breathing was rapid and your body started to shake again, you were almost unable to unlock it. 1% battery.

“Fuck” You cried through the line of spit that formed on your lips as your eyes filled with tears again. 

You were losing it. Calm down. Your hands wouldn’t stop shaking, no matter how hard you tried. You opened the phone app and began to dial the only number you could coherently remember, swearing in panic and frustration as your fingers dialed wrong digit after wrong digit. The red glow of the battery in the top corner was mocking you, you felt your mind spiraling. A drop of blood fell from your forehead onto the glass of the screen, you finally got the number correct and hit the green dial button.

You lifted it shakily to your ear and held your breath as you heard it connect, the first ring, the second ring, and then you heard his voice.

“Hey, you’ve reached Rudy’s phone, don’t leave a message unless it’s good news.” Beep.

You stuttered, panic overcoming you as you realized you had wasted the only call your battery would allow on a voicemail. Your broken breath was the only thing coming out. You forced out a sound, which was the start of a hysterical cry, and said his name.

“Rudy” You whispered into your phone, your hope dissolving around you rapidly. “Please- hiccup ­–help me….I, -hiccup- in an accident… my head is-”

You saw the screen darken from your peripherals as the battery died. You pulled it away from your ear and squeezed it so hard your whole arm shook violently as a sob that turned into a scream tore itself out of your throat. You sank to your knees, staring at the black screen, feeling an overwhelming dizziness pass through you. You needed to….you just needed to….rest. You felt your phone slip from your hands as you hit the ground.

 --

 “Miss? Can you hear me?” Someone shook your shoulders gently.

You tried to open your eyes but they were sore, your head was sore, everything was sore. You managed to open one, slowly, daylight blinding you. A shape hovered over you, large.

“Don’t move, alright?” The voice spoke again. You wanted to say something but you couldn’t. You felt arms under your back and legs, and then you were moving. Someone was lifting you. This never ending week kept getting weirder.

“It’s alright, we’re just going to my truck. Can you feel your legs?” You managed to nod your head as your eyes started to open, realizing what was happening.

You tried to speak again, your lips stuck together, the skin peeling apart painfully.

“Where am I” You managed, your voice thick and gravelly.

“It’s alright, I think you were in a bit of an accident.” The man said again, then stopped talking as you heard a door open. He carefully placed you in a seat and backed up a step as you opened your eyes, lifting a hand to your forehead. “Do you remember what happened?” He asked.

You cleared your throat painfully and blinked a few times, pivoting your head slightly to look at him. He was tall, and large…bearded, graying hair. Maybe 60? Your chest rose and fell slowly as you tried to even out your breath. You nodded your head and swallowed.

“I crashed” You said quietly. The man let out a single chuckle and crossed his arms.

“I gathered that much. Found your car down the road. How long you been out here?”

“I don’t know…what time is it?”

“8 am, give or take…pretty nasty bump on your head there. Where on earth were ya going?” He asked, almost amused, but slightly concerned.

“Cellphone…um, the tower.” You looked around, there was a giant satellite radio attached to his dashboard and you noticed he was wearing a beige uniform. “Who are you?”

The man smiled, he had a kind albeit aged and rough looking face.

“Peter” He said nodding at you. “I’m with USDA. I was doing my rounds of the gates when I found you. We’ve had some problems with the hunters leaving them open round here lately. Don’t suppose that’s what you were doing though.” He let out a small grumbling laugh.

“Hmm” You breathed out, trying to laugh, but just making a grunting noise. “Can I use your phone?” You looked at him and waited, your head moving around like your neck had lost all the muscle to support it.

“I radioed the tow company a few minutes ago, but I only got that radio right there on the dash, which I doubt will be too much use to you. I can take you down to the gas station at the railroad check point, they should have a phone you can use.”

You thought for a moment and closed your eyes, starting to feel nausea as your body woke up from the shock and your breathing slowed.

“Actually…would you mind just taking me home? I’m just in a cabin down the road...”

The man watched you carefully, his arms still crossed, his forehead pinched.

“You sure? I think you should probably get that checked out.” He nodded at your head wound. You hadn’t even seen yourself yet. You nodded anyways. “Alright then” He said, closing your door gently and rounding the front of his truck to climb into the driver seat.

As he put the truck in gear you felt yourself drifting off, the darkness washing around you again.

“You alright?” You heard Peter say, but his voice was a thousand miles away.

--

When you woke up, it was to the sound of the truck door opening and mixed voices talking quickly, metal creaking, someone reaching across you to undo your seat belt. You slowly blinked your eyes open and squinted to try and focus, you could see a woman with a blue shirt on, and a man behind her also with a blue shirt on.

“Hey honey” The woman said slowly. “Can you hear me?”

You nodded, groaning as a shot of pain went through your head.

“Alright, easy now. You’re at the hospital, we’re going to help you down onto this stretcher here and then were gonna bring you inside with us and take a look at that bump on your head okay?” You couldn’t really talk or nod or be useful to communicate in any way so you simply tried smiling at her. “Alright good, you’re doing great. Here you come” You felt multiple arms and hands and bodies around you, then you were laying on a stretcher. This was a weird day.

They wheeled you inside, you pinched your eyes closed as the fluorescent lights flashed above you. Your head was so, so sore.

“Y/N? HEY, get off me. I know her, I’m her…wait, stop. Y/N!” The voice shouted. 

Were you dreaming?

“Rudy?” You said in a low hazy voice, trying to open your eyes and move. A heavy hand pressed your shoulder down firmly into the stretcher as you kept moving down the hall.

You didn’t hear the voice again so you knew you had made it up. Your head injury must be worse than you thought.

After a few hours of X-Rays and scans and injections of blessed, sweet pain killers and wheeling from one section of the hospital to the next, they helped you up from the stretcher and bandaged the wound on your forehead. It had been worse than you thought, a large gaping cut that stretched from the middle of your eyebrows and down your cheek, and both your eyes were bruised, small glass cuts littered the skin on your face and neck, arms and hands. Thankfully no internal issues or trauma, nothing really aside from surface damage.

You sat, finally coherent and hydrated and clean, waiting for the discharge nurse. As she came in with the clipboard, she didn’t close the curtain behind her.

“Did you get a hold of my parents?” You asked, your voice tired and gravelly and weak.

“Your brother did, he’s here to pick you up.” She smiled, reviewing your chart.

You looked at her for a moment, expressionless, then cocked your head to the side and began to say that you didn’t have a brother, but the words died in the air when you saw his blonde hair appear from around the curtain.

You felt a shutter rock through you as the oxygen was sucked out of the room, Rudy’s concerned face breaking when he saw you. He moved briskly past the nurse and in one swift motion enclosed you in the most gentle bone crushing hug he was capable of in that moment. Neither of you spoke or moved or did anything but breathed shakily into each other’s necks.

“You’re here” You said without air, unbelieving.

Rudy didn’t answer, he just nodded, unrelenting in his hug. He moved his face out of the crook of your neck and placed his cheek against the side of your head, inhaling the scent of your hair and trembling.

“I’ll give you a moment” The nurse said as she slipped out of the room and pulled the curtain closed behind her.

You felt like you were going to hyperventilate, your chest was rising and falling so rapidly. Rudy pulled back enough to examine your face, his hands cradling the un-bruised parts of your cheeks.

“You’re here. I can’t believe you’re here. How did you know where I was?” Your voice was scarce and your throat constricted painfully.

“Your voicemail” He said quickly, his heart beating rapidly and his hands shaking. “I um…..I started driving as soon as I got it.”

“Yeah but I didn’t say where I was…my phone died.”

“I knew” He shrugged a shoulder as he bit his top lip, a shaky breath exhaling quickly, sounds coming out of his throat that resembled squeaks and groans. “I went to the cabin and when you weren’t there I started driving around, I found your car. I thought you were…” A shiver passed through him. “Y/N, I…was it, it wasn’t…”

You felt a pain deep in your gut at that moment as you understood what he was trying to ask. You could see the fear and the guilt and the anguish clear in his eyes. He thought you had crashed on purpose.

“No, no god no. It wasn’t like that. I swear.”

“Then what were you doing?” His voice cracked, and you felt something shift in your stomach.

“I was…going to the cell tower to call you.” Your voice cracked as you flashed back to the accident and the memory shook through you. “I was gonna call you and apologize. I-”

Rudy pulled you into a deep hug then, you heard a cry hiccup out of him. It broke you to hear the sound. Mixed with the exhaustion and the pain, you felt yourself collapse into him completely. He immediately braced you both and supported you, his hand cradling the back of your head.

“I’m sorry” He said quietly. You shook your head against him, the bandage catching on the fabric of his shirt.

“Can you take me home” You asked in a muted voice. He nodded and pulled away, placing a kiss on the other side of your forehead and grasping your hand, leading you through the curtain and into the waiting room where the nurse stood at the discharge desk, scribbling on the clipboard.

You both signed the forms and thanked her, then Rudy led you out of the hospital and to his black truck that was parked crooked across two spots. He helped you up into the truck and leaned across you to buckle your seat belt, adjusting the strap to not rest too close to your neck, which also had a small bandage from a glass cut.

The hour long drive to the turn off for your cabin was virtually silent, but it was okay. Rudy held your hand the entire time, almost painfully tight, and let you rest, occasionally you would drift off and wake up that much closer. You didn’t have to worry, he knew this drive like the back of his hand too.

When you arrived at the cabin, Rudy put the truck in park and sat quietly for a few seconds before letting your hand go and climbing out to come around and help you down from your seat. He guided you inside, sat you down on the couch and wrapped a blanket around you, picked up your discarded towel from the floor and started a fire. He boiled water for your tea, gave you the handful of Tylenol that the nurse had sent you home with, and grabbed you a change of clothes.

You watched him move around the cabin silently with purpose, his presence deeply comforting. Neither of you spoke, but you felt what he was feeling.

Things were fucked up. His life was in shambles, your life was a mess, and you had unwittingly dragged each other into the middle of all of it. It was like you were standing in the eye of the storm together, chaos ensuing around you, but complete silence was your greatest comfort. It had started to rain outside, the light patter on the roof the only thing reminding you that there was a world outside these four walls. 

Rudy paced around the kitchen, his arm muscles flexing as he moved things around on the shelves and put things away, lighting candles as it got darker from the rain clouds, keeping himself busy, avoiding the conversation neither of you wanted to have.

You weren’t entirely certain what happened in the next moments, or what motivated you to move, or what was driving you forward. Maybe it was the quiet sound of the rain, or the smell of the wet earth outside and the light rush of the creek. Maybe it was the low light outside the cabin windows and the comfort of the single fire roaring in front of you. Maybe it was the knowledge that in this moment, you didn’t care about all the craziness that had gotten you both alone inside this cabin, just being here right now was good enough for you. Maybe it was the concussion.

But you knew tomorrow would come, you knew time would keep going, you knew that moments like these were fleeting. You didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, but you did know that the burning in your gut wouldn’t go away, the way your heart beat faster when you heard his voice wouldn’t subside, the way you were standing up right now with no ability to stop yourself was beyond your control.

Rudy looked over at you from the kitchen, locking eyes with you, his jaw flexing.

You stood still, watching him, and took a step back, closer to the fire. The sensation of the heat on your legs matched that in your chest and heart and eyes. Nothing else mattered in that moment but protecting the cocoon you were creating for each other.

Your fingers drifted to the seam of your shirt, your eyes never leaving his, and you began to pull it up, exposing your stomach, lifting it over your head carefully, minding the wounds. You had nothing on underneath, you hadn’t thought to put a bra on when you had rushed out the door yesterday.

Rudy’s eyes fell from yours down your body and his hand faltered on the kitchen counter, his breathing staggered. When your eyes met again, you could see the hunger reflected in them. You slid your pants down, watching him, and kicked them to the side. Standing there, naked, you felt yourself breathing slowly and deeply, unsure what to do next. 

Without hesitation Rudy lifted his shirt over his head in one swift motion and walked towards you, closing the gap in seconds. He stopped briefly, his muscles tense, watching you fiercely, before his shoulders dropped and he let the breath he had been holding out. He wrapped himself around you then, his mouth gentle but firm on your own, and slowly began to lower you both onto the blanket you had dropped on the floor in front of the fire.

You had thought about this moment a hundred times before, but it was better than you could have had the imagination to concoct. He had laid you down gently on the blanket, careful not to hurt you, and brushed small kisses along your chest and down your abdomen. When he pulled your underwear off you thought you were going to black out, your head was throbbing but you hardly noticed.

He waited for you to catch your breath before going further, and when he was inside you, you felt like the world had stopped on its axis. 

Surely this was it, surely the Earth was dodging sudden death at every turn, flying through a mine field of comets and ambling dangerously close to self-destruction. Surely there was no life outside of this moment, outside of this second. 

You moved against each other, with each other, in and through each other. You followed his lead, unable to bring yourself out of the head space of sheer ecstasy, your hands surveying his body like you had never felt another human before. He had started slowly, gently, but grew hungrier, clearly losing his ability to control himself. 

You felt the pressure building up and squeezed your eyes shut, opening your mouth to grasp at any amount of oxygen you could find. Rudy’s hand came up from your hip to cup your face, his voice anxious when he said your name. You breathlessly encouraged him that you were fine, im fine im fine, until he believed you enough to embrace it. You couldn’t get close enough, couldn’t express enough, couldn’t breathe fast enough, and couldn’t process anything at all.

You felt your eyes roll back, your arms and legs twitch, your back arch. The pressure released and you exploded into a million tiny chaotic pieces, no longer a part of this earthly plane, no longer worried about the planet spinning off its axis, nothing mattered, he kept going. The only thing that pulled you back to the floor of your cabin was the sudden warm wet feeling inside you, the way Rudy’s body pulsed into yours slowly as he finished, and the sound he made before he collapsed on top of you.

____________________________________________

Tag List: @sunshinemadds​ @bluebirdsbluebells​​, @lovelymaybankk​, @poguestyleskye​, @alexa-playafricabytoto​, @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch​, @k-k0129​, @kimyeon-tae​, @ellystone​, @faded-blue​, @thebeautifulbookworm, @heypearce, @jjsthumbring, @poguesrforlife, @timotaychalabae​, @infinityspacesuniverse, @judayyyw, @nelebynele​, @p0gues4l​, @realiteaas, @annedub, @justagirlpostingwhatsheloves​, @rudyypankow​, @thegeekyblondegirlwholovesstars​, @cocoopalace, @toribentleyva, @lennoxcobain, @runway-to-my-aid. @otrbnks, @jjtheangel, @thehomeiknow @lenaandcalliope, @rudths

[teacubes]

Yandere Prisoner from idv?(headcanons or scenarios, you pick :) )If you not then could you do photographer? Also, what other things would you consider writing about? Love your stories!

Hello there!! I got a idea for Joseph so imma save him right after I finish those request ùwú! I planning to write some fluff and sweet stuff, not to mention those letters! I just want everyone to be happy by my writings so I'll try my best! (Not to mention those kinky stuff but shh)

Pairings: Luca Balsa x reader

Tw: Mind-break, mild gore and yandere themes so please please please proceed with caution bbs

Word counts: 1k

You were currently running away from the place where you call home before, it terrifies you to even think about it. Legs were bruised from running without shoes, leaving blood as footprint for him to find you. Nightgown flows smoothly while the wind gently blows you from afar, didn’t care that your hair was a mess. You felt your heart is heavy despite the adrenaline from running, the scene cruelly repeated in your head. Tears are running profusely, everything makes sense for you now but you just choose not to believe it.

The reason why you were running away, is because of your lover. You were in bed that was shared with your beloved, waiting for the comfort you guys shared under the covers. Gently flipping the pages from the book you love that he gifted to you, but you immediately stopped when you heard a yell then grunt.

A loud thud was heard after that, concerned for Luca’s well-being. Placing your book aside, grabbing a coat and the candle to warm and guide you. Open the door slowly, “Luca...?” That’s what you said before fully stepping out the room. The sound came from the living room so you ought to go there to see what happen to Luca.

The floor were creaking each time you step, closer you were to the living room. You heard a huff, yet a voice that was similar to your darling. Getting more worried for him, you called out his name but it seems failed. Gripping your coat tightly, fearing for what is about to happen next. When you arrived, you were relieved to see Luca standing and huffing.

“Luca!” You called his name out loud happily but yet once again he did not respond, and something is definitely not right. His eyes were dark, dark enough to send you chills. Placing the candlelight on the table, “Darling? Are you okay? Is something wrong?” You nervously ask him as you approached towards his direction.

But everything seems stops around you, the moment you turned your head to see the weird lump on the ground. It was a dead body, his neck was slitted deeply as his mouth were foaming right after coughing some blood. The sofa were tainted with splashes of blood, including the wall and some pictures that was overlay with glass. You were absolute mortified, you screamed on top of your lungs as your body trembled tremendously.

Everything make sense right now; about how he was obsessive with you, that he must be by your side, yet you catch a glimpse of him following you in the sea of crowds or even the people you knew were gone on next day. Looking at him, knowing perfectly clear that he was a bad news. He slowly looks at you with the disturbing smile that was laced on his lips, tilting his head in a eerie way.

You were visibly uncomfortable with how he look at you, your first instinct was to run somewhere far as you dash out to the door without shoes. Calling for help as no Lady Luck by your side, currently exasperated from running but yet his footstep echoed through the night. You sobbed as you kept calling, searching for a hope that was never existed from the day you met him. Tripping over a stone that hurt your feet more, unable to move as you continue sobbed. ‘Is it the end of me?’

You thought, the footstep were getting closer to you. Luca laughing lightly before approaching you, “Now, now, my Lady. You shouldn’t be scared over the trash, I was just merely cleaning up!” Stopping on his tracks to see your vulnerable yet frail form, “You should know by now that why I am doing this...” He approach more closer around your head before kneeling down and lift your chin to look at him. Ah yes, his favourite tear-stained face of yours.

“Why are you doing this?!” You cried out, to see the man that was your everything turned out to be a murderer that swore to ‘protect’ you. “Because I love you, and I can be the only one to love you.” He smirked, using his thumbs to play with your soft lips. Using his free hand to get something from his pocket, it was the wishing bottle that he got for you earlier this year. “You know what is this, darling?”

Tapping the bottle as he meant to point out the ‘sand’, you obviously shake your head. “This is your beloved parents ash, my silly love.” You froze in spot, unable to speak nor reply. Tears running down once again, he already took away your friends and now your parents? The light and hope that was once in your eyes were gone, it was just a dim bright eyes. He successfully break your mind, he already took everything of yours and what can you hope for?

Amused that the light in your eyes went away, “Now, darling. I have few rules to set since you know, if you ever tried running away from me. I won’t hesitate to chop your beautiful legs and arms off although I adored them so much, but I don’t want my little bird to fly away from me...” Trailing off his words as he combed your hair gently, glancing your eyes once again. “But I guess we don’t have to since my favourite little birdie has lost their mind.” He hummed as you lost the will to live.

Standing up while he pat of the dust of his pants before picking you up in bridal style. Humming as he starts bringing you back home , “Let’s go home and clean you up, then we tend those injuries of yours!” He said it cheerfully, before heading back home. Yet you thinking about if you never met him, would these things happen to you? Would your friends and family be still alive to this day?

Months were passing by quickly, you were laying down on your bed. No will to move as you have become weaker than usual, Luca entered the room happily as he tells you about his day. Giving you the flowers that he picked up from the florist, yet giving you some daily kisses but here you are, just like a doll that doesn’t move. Just staring into blank space as he braid your hair, “You are just like a beautiful bird that belongs in a golden canary, which you can’t leave me forever...”

[eleventhdoctorsangel]

I’m coming apart

Summary: When the Dover's older daughter gets taken along with Joy and Anna but gets tired up in the RV and locked in the bathroom. She was found by detective loki when Alex crashed the RV. Her clothes were torn. After being found and seeing how hurt her parents and the Birch's are she soon starts to feel guilty. She feels like she can't confident in anyone. It wasn't until she started to talking to detective loki did she feel the weight start to leave her.

I kept my hand over my ears and not looking. I didn’t remember if I screamed or not. It wasn’t until I felt someone put their hands on top of mine taking my hands off my ears. “I’m going to take you out of the room I don’t want you to open your eyes okay.” David said. “Okay.” I said quietly. David wrapped an arm around me as I got up from the chair I was sitting in and lead me out of the room. “Okay you can open your eyes.” David said. I did and I saw that we were back in the main part of the station. “Are you okay?” David asked. “I’m okay.” I said as I looked to the floor. “Did you see anything?” David asked. I shook my head. “I should have never allowed you to be back there.” David said. “You didn’t know he was to do that.” I said. “I’ll take you home soon I promise. With what just happened I have a feeling my boss is going to come back and chew my ass out.” David said. “It’s fine almost anything is better than being at home.” I said.

People from a hospital had came and got the body. David was sitting down beside me and had a hand on my knee. David’s boss was standing a few feet away from us as the body was wheeled out. I just kept looking down not wanting to look up. I could hear someone give something to David. “He explain this before he ate the bullet?” a Male voice asked. “I’m sorry.” David said. “Fuck your sorry. Save it for the girls parents.” The male voice said and walked away. “Come on I should get you home now.” David said getting up. I nodded and got up and followed him. David went over to his desk putting down the piece of paper and grabbed his coat and then we walked out of the station to his car. We got in his car and I got buckled in. “I’m sorry.” David said. “You haven’t find the bodies yet can there be a chance that they’re still alive?” I asked. “They ID the clothes. “ David said. “They blood might not belong to the girls.” I said. “I get that you want your sister and Joy back. I really thought that I could do that for you but I couldn’t.” David said. “I’m still not giving up hope until their bodies are found.” I said. David just nodded and started his car then drove out of the stations parking lot.

When David pulled into my driver I noticed that dad wasn’t at home. “Where’s your father? You would think that he would be here.” David asked. “I don’t know. Thank you for driving me home.” I said as I unbuckled then got out of the car closing the door behind me. I walked up the porch steps then walked into the house. I let out a sigh as closed the door behind me. I climb up the stairs and went to my room. “Where have you been?” Ralph asked as he walked into the room. “At the station.” I said as I took my coat off. “Dad didn’t bring you home?” Ralph asked. “No he left me there. David was kind enough to bring me home.” I said. “So you know.” Ralph said. “Yeah. But the blood that was found on the clothes hasn’t came back yet.” I said. “How do you now that?” Ralph asked. “I asked. Where’s dad?” I asked. “Probably getting drunk somewhere.” Ralph said. “Why would you say that?” I asked. “Because you can smell it on him haven’t you.” Ralph said. I shook my head. “How can you not.” Ralph said. “Because he smells like something else to me.” I said. “Which is?” Ralph asked. “Blood.” I said. “Are you sure?” Ralph asked as he sat down on my bed. I nodded. At that time I heard dad’s truck pulling to the driveway. “Can you stay in my room a little longer?” I asked. Ralph nodded. “Thanks.” I said quietly. I only asked him in case dad burst in my accusing me of doing something with David.

The front door opened and then closed. I heard dad coming near my room and I was just hoping he wouldn’t come into my room. But when he walked into my room I felt my heart start to race. “Ralph I need to talk to your sister can you please leave.” Dad said. Ralph looked over to me and I slightly shook my head. “Whatever you have to say to Y/n you can say in front of me dad.” Ralph said. “Go to your room now Ralph.” Dad said. “It’s okay Ralph.” I said quietly. Ralph looked over to me and nodded as he got up from my bed and walked out of my room. “What in the fuck were you doing with him?” Dad asked. “He had asked me what you were doing with grandpa old building. I came along because I wanted to know why when you do come home you smell like blood.” I said. “I do not come home smell like blood.” Dad said. “Dad yes you do.” I said. “You distracted him. You’re the reason that your sister is dead.” Dad said. “And you think that killing Alex Jones will bring her back.” I said. That made dad slap me hard enough that I was knocked to the ground. Dad stormed out of my room and back out of the house. I heard Ralph walked out of his room and come back to mine. “Y/n are you?” Ralph asked but once he saw me on the ground and rushed over to me. “I’m fine.” I said wiping blood away from my mouth. “This dad do this?” Ralph asked gently touching my cheek. I hissed in pain as I slapped his hand away. “I’ll go get you some ice to put on this.” Ralph said standing back up. “Thank you.” I said. Ralph nodded and got up and walked out of my room.

While he was gone I got up from the ground and went to sit on my bed still wiping blood from my mouth. Ralph walked back into my room with an icepack wrapped in a rag. “Here.” Ralph said handing me the icepack. “Thanks.” I said putting the icepack on my cheek. I let out a wince as the cold touched my cheek. “Why did dad hit you?” Ralph asked. “I said something that probably was right. I guess dad couldn’t handle it.” I said. “Looks like he got you good.” Ralph said. “I just hope it doesn’t bruise.” I said. “Well to me it looked like it was already starting to.” Ralph said. “Great.” I said. “Well I’m going to go back to my room if you need anything come and get me.” Ralph said. I nodded and Ralph walked out of my room closing to door. I laid down on my bed still holding the icepack to my cheek as tears formed in my eyes.

I held the icepack to my cheek until it wasn’t cold anymore. I got out from my bed and took it pack it the kitchen. After I took the icepack back I made my way to the bathroom to see is my cheek was bruised. The whole way up I was hoping and praying that there wasn’t a bruise. When I walked in the bathroom I closed the door and turned on the lights. I kept looking down at the counter since I was afraid to look. I finally worked up enough courage to look. I let out a sigh as I looked up. When I was met with a bruise on my cheek I started to cry. I put a hand to my mouth to keep myself sobbing loudly. I rushed out of the bathroom and back to my room. I closed my door and sat on my bed pulling my knees to my chest. I just sat in quiet until I felt sleeping and went to sleep. 

When I woke up I look to see the time and it was a little after 8 in the morning. I looked to see if dad was home and thankfully he wasn’t. I went to go take a bath. I only stayed in for twenty minutes then got out and used a little make up to cover up the bruise on my cheek. Then I grabbed my dirty clothes and towel going back to my room to grab my laundry basket so I could go do my laundry. As I was walking to the laundry I thought I heard someone jump the fence. I decided to go check and when I did I saw David in the backyard kneeling on the ground looking for something. I opened the back door and stepped on to the back porch. “David what are you doing?” I asked.  David had looked up at me hold a pen in his hand with Anna’s sock on it. “Go get me a bag or something okay.” David said. I nodded and quickly rushed inside and grabbed a ziplock bag from the kitchen opening it as I rush back outside. “Here.” I said as I handed it to David. “Why is Anna’s sock outside?” I asked. “There’s footprints in the mud. I’m guessing that when your mother heard someone in the house the other night that it was Bob Taylor breaking in to get some of Anna’s clothes. The blood was pigs blood.” David said as he put Anna’s sock into the bag. “So they could still be alive?” I asked. “I hope.” David said. “Well would you like to leave through the front door?” I asked at the same time David’s phone started to ring. I watched as he answered the phone. “Detective Loki.” David said. As the person on the other side started to tell him something and he’s eyes widen slightly. “Alright I’ll be right there.”  David said and hung up. “Go get some shoes on?” David said. “Why?” I asked. “They found Joy.” David said. I quickly ran back inside and to my room. I quickly put some socks and my boots on. I grabbed my coat and ran out of my room. David was in the living room waiting and as soon as I got down the steps we rushed out of the house and to his car.

David speed to the hospital with the lights flashing. When we got to the hospital there were already a few other officers there, We were ushered to where Joy was. David allowed me to stay with Joy until Nancy and Franklin arrived at the hospital so she had someone she knew with her. She looked and acted out of it. But as soon as she saw me she started to cry. “It’s okay sweetie. You’re okay now.” I said as I grabbed her hand. “Where’s mommy and daddy?” Joy cried. “They’re on the way sweetie. Until they get here this nice detective is going to let me stay with you.” I said pointing at David behind me. “I want mommy and daddy.” Joy said. “Oh I know you do sweetie. They are getting here as fast as they can.” I said. “I’m going have to ask you some question Joy is that okay?” David asked. Joy looked over to me. “It’s okay Joy I’m going to stay right here. I trust him just tell him what you can remember.” I said. Joy  nodded and tried to tell David the best she can what she remember as after that she was moved back to a room. When we walked out the elevator Nancy and Franklin was rushed over to us. “Mommy! Daddy!” Joy cried out. I let go of her hand that she refused to let go of as Nancy and Franklin got to her side. Both Nancy and Franklin were crying tears of joy and relief.

I stayed with David. He was trying to make me feel better since Anna was with her. I just hoped that she was alive too. I knew that mom and dad were probably at the hospital or almost here. An officer had come to tell David the mom and dad had pushed past them to get into to Joy’s room. We quickly walked over to her room and as we rounded the corner I say dad. “I said nobody’s allowed in that room but her family. Hey! Where you going?” David asked. Dad looked at us as he turned walking away from us.  “Keller?” Mom asked as she started to follow dad. Dad started to run down the hall. “Hey! Where’s he going?” David asked “I don’t know.” Mom said. Dad continued to run down the hall. “Hey! Call downstairs. Don’t let him go. Hey! Hey!” David said as he started to follow dad. I ran behind David. “Y/n come back.” Mom said. But I didn’t stop and go back.

I ran out of the hospital as I ran to try to catch up with dad. Dad had got in to his truck as he started to drive away. “Stop that car! Get his truck!” David yelled. “Dad stop please!” I yelled. “Stop it! Hey!” David said as the pounded on Dad’s truck. “Daddy please!” I yelled as I ran up to his window. Dad just quickly looked at me  then he started to speed out of the parking lot. I quickly ran over to David car with him. “No you get back inside.” David said. “No I’m fucking coming.” I said as I quickly got in as did David. Then David quickly speed out of the parking lot following dad. “I got you, you fucker. I know where you’re going. I know where you’re going.” David said. But he said the first part quietly probably because he didn’t want me to hear.

I saw that we were going to grandpa’s old building. He pulled right up near the door. I could feel my heart in my throat. We got out of the car and as we made our way to the door I got hear thumping coming inside but I didn’t see dad’s truck. Dad had grabbed my arm pulling me behind him as he grabbed his gun and at the same time screaming could be heard coming from side. David quickly kicked the door up and rushed inside. I followed behind him making sure that I stay behind him the whole time. The thumping and screaming continued as we made our way up the stair to following the sound. As we got closer we made our way to a bathroom where something looked newly built and I knew that this is what dad has been doing. “Who’s in here?” David asked. “Alex Jones.” The voice said. “Did Keller Dover do this to you?” David asked as he pulled out his phone. “Yes.” Alex said. I felt the tears start to run down my face. “We’re going to get you out of here Alex.” David said as he called someone and put his gun away. He turn to look at me and when he saw that I was crying he pulled me into his chest. “This is Detective Loki I need back up with some tools and a R.A. to 234 Campello Street right fucking now.” David said as he hung up. He looked down at me. “Do you know if there is anything to get him out of this here?” David asked. “I don’t know maybe.” I said. “Help me look.” David said. I nodded and started to look for anything that would help. I found a hammer that dad must have left behind I grabbed it and went to find David. “Will this work?” I asked showing the hammer to David. “It’s going to have to.” David said taking the hammer from and went over to where Dad had Alex trap trying to free him. When trying to take the nails out didn’t work David started to slam the hammer against the plywood. When it finally broke David threw the hammer down as he pulled the plywood away throwing it to the ground the sight of Alex made me start to feel sick. He was severely beaten and seemed to have burns on him. I left the bathroom trying not to throw up. I put my hands on the wall as I leaned down crying. “Hey it’s okay. It’s going to be okay.” David said as he ran a hand up and down my back. I got up and looked at him. “How is it going to be okay? Anna is still missing. Look at what my father did.” I said crying. David had put his hand on my bruised cheek. This made me flinch. “What happened to your cheek?” David asked. “My dad got mad at me and he hit me.” I said looking at the ground. “You should have told me.” David said. “What would you have done if I did?” I asked. “I would have taken care of him.” David said as sirens started to get closer and closer.

[yeeharley]

Day 1: Let’s Hang Out Sometime

pairing: irondad

prompt(s): waking up restrained, shackled, hanging

read on ao3

He wakes up in total darkness, and for a moment, Peter thinks he might’ve gone blind.

Everything is inky blackness, starless night, bottom of the sea. No matter how he strains to see, how much he blinks, he can’t seem to regain his sense of vision. Is there something over his eyes? Something in his eyes?

Has somebody blinded him?

Peter groans, tries to reach up and rub his eyes, and finds them trapped firmly behind his back by something tight and cold and wrong. He pulls once, twice, three times, muscles straining, teeth gritted so hard he feels them squeaking against each other.

Whatever’s holding his arms still, it’s strong. Too strong for him- for Spider-Man- which is way more than concerning and most definitely landing in the ‘extreme danger’ category of his ranking system.

He tries his feet next only to find them shackled together just as his hands are, encased in the same chilly metal from ankle to mid-shin.

Even though he can’t see the restraints, he knows they’re heavy-duty. Can feel it from the amount of resistance they’re giving his enhanced strength.

He can lift ten tons without breaking a sweat.

How are these holding?

Peter heaves a loud groan, straining as hard as he physically can against the cuffs on his hands. His shoulders ache, ache, ache as he draws air in through labored, tired lungs and breathes against everything that tells him to stop before he hurts himself.

Eventually, though, his strength gives out and he collapses against hard stone.

A squeak of pain escapes his lungs when he lands badly against his wrists. Sharp metal digs into the small of his back, and no matter how much he shifts, he can’t seem to get himself into a more comfortable position.

How long has he been like this?

Is- is anyone else here with him?

“Mister Stark?”

Peter’s voice is cracked and dry and tired. He clears his throat, blinking away tears (why can’t he see) before trying again.

“M-mister Stark, please- please, Mister S-Stark-”

There’s a deep breath from somewhere in the room; he can’t tell how far away or who it is. Then, a gasp and a low, pained cough.

“Kid?”

Peter chokes out a sob, leaning forward to rest against his knees so he can take the strain off of his back, and lets his chin drop to his chest.

Tony. Tony’s here. He’s not alone.

“Mister Stark.” His arms are aching. Tired. He doesn’t understand. “Mister Stark, I- I need help-”

“What’s going on?” Tony snaps. “Peter, where are we? Are you okay?”

He sounds angry. God, he sounds scared. Peter doesn’t know what he’s going to do if Tony’s scared, too.

He’s probably scared enough for the both of them right now.

“Are you okay?” Tony asks again, this time more gently. “Peter?”

“I- I can’t see, sir, I can’t see,” Peter croaks. He looks up, facing the general direction of his mentor’s voice, and hopes that he’s right.

If the sudden intake of breath from across the room is any indication, he’s managed to get lucky.

“There’s something in your eyes.” Tony sounds shocked. Peter always judges his emotions using his face , and he doesn’t have that now, what is he going to do-

“What do you-”

The sound of a creaking handle and wood brushing against wood fills Peter’s ears, and he winces, scrambling backwards until he hits the wall and pulls his limbs into his chest. All he can do is try to protect himself, try to stay unassuming and safe .

He can’t fight like this.

He can’t fight at all.

“What the hell did you do to him?” Tony shouts, voice ringing off of the walls.

Footprints scuffle toward where Peter’s sitting. Somebody laughs quietly. Cruelly.

“What the hell did you do?!”

Peter’s spider-sense is off the charts, ringing inside his skull like a bell. He wants nothing more than to jump out of his skin, to wake up and realize that it was just a nightmare, but he can’t even pinch himself to try and snap himself out of it.

He waits, helpless, trembling, as the footsteps get closer. Closer. Closer.

A rough hand clams down on his left shoulder, digging into the skin between his neck and collarbone. Peter flinches and tries to pull away, but there’s no use. Whoever’s holding him is stronger than him, and they probably have the advantage of being able to see.

He’s dragged to his feet, fumbling and struggling all the way, unable to get his balance from the way his legs are being held so closely together.

“Leave him alone!” Tony screams, voice raw and angry. “Put him down, get your hands off of him-”

“Sure thing, man,” somebody- a man, Peter thinks, but not the one holding him- says. There’s a moment of quiet.

Then, with a less-than-gentle push, the person gripping Peter’s shoulder lets go.

He hits the rough stone floor face first, unable to catch himself because his hands are firmly tied behind his back and he has no way to keep himself upright. The impact knocks every bit of breath out of his body. Scrapes his forehead, his cheeks, the bridge of his nose against what feels like sandpaper.

He bites his lip so hard that blood gushes to the surface in a desperate attempt to keep himself from crying.

It doesn’t work.

“That’s not what I meant,” Tony snaps. Then, to Peter, “Are you okay? Peter, are you okay?”

He can’t muster up much more than a feeble nod. The hand is back on his shoulder, and another one joins it on his other side, hauling him to his feet roughly and standing him up before dragging him forward.

His feet bump against the ground as he tries to keep up with them, but they’re firmly stuck together.

He’s entirely at their mercy.

“Please-” Peter chokes on blood from his lip, lets it drip out of his mouth, feels it hit his shirt and start to soak through. “Why can’t- why can’t I see-”

An open hand slams against his ear, hard and angry, pushing his body into the person holding his right side up.

“Hey-”

Another hit, this one with a closed fist. Peter chokes out a whine and sways on his feet, trying to shake the pain out of his head.

“Neither of you speak.” It’s the same man as before, and- oh God- he’s standing right in front of Peter. “You understand me, Stark? Talk and we make sure he can’t open his mouth.”

There’s no answer, but Peter assumes Tony nods.

“Good.”

A footstep.

Peter can feel the warmth radiating off of his captor’s body from their proximity. He resists the urge to shrink back, shuddering when a pair of fingers trace their way up the side of his face and land on top of his head.

He can’t speak.

He can’t speak.

He can’t-

“S-sir?” Peter asks, not knowing whether he’s speaking to Tony or whoever else is in the room.

He really needs to learn to keep his mouth shut.

There’s a labored sigh, borderline exasperated. The hand in his hair tightens, pulls at his scalp, yanks his head back.

He wants to cry.

“I told you,” the man says, voice hard, “that you weren’t supposed to speak to me or there would be consequences.”

Consequences.

Peter tries to hold back bile, feels as it creeps up his throat, manages to keep his breakfast down.

“Didn’t I?”

Don’t answer.

He nods, head still held at a painful angle, parallel to the ceiling. The strain it puts on him is making it hard for him to breathe, but he nods again to make sure they know he heard and he’s answering. He’s obeying.

That’s what they want him to do, right?

“And when you disobey, you have to deal with the consequences. I wouldn’t be setting a very good example if I let you get away with ignoring my orders, would I?”

He shakes his head. The hand loosens ever-so-slightly.

Peter allows himself to relax. It’s a mistake.

Without warning, his hair is being yanked back to the point where he feels like his head might be about to hit his spine. He cries out, groaning as another pair of hands- how many of these people are there?- grabs his lower jaw and pulls it down, making it entirely impossible for him to close his mouth.

Tony is screaming. He isn’t making any sense, but he’s screaming, and Peter just wants it to stop.

Large hands shove a wad of something that feels like a towel into his mouth before forcing it closed and tying a strip of fabric around the back of his head. It’s only then that the hand on his head releases and allows him to relax, dropping his chin to his chest and breathing as much of a sigh of relief as he can when he can barely draw in any oxygen through his mouth.

Tony’s crying now.

He wishes he wouldn’t cry. It’s making it so much harder for Peter to hold back the tears.

“Lift your legs to your chest,” the first man says, voice quiet but commanding. “Now.”

Having learned what happens when he doesn’t do as he’s told, Peter musters up every bit of strength he can and manages to pulls his knees up as well as he can. A third pair of hands maneuvers his arms under his body, and when he’s given the order to drop his legs, he does. His hands are in front of his body instead of behind, now, and he knows he should be happy about it- after all, it’s a stronger position- but he knows that they’re planning something.

He can’t celebrate if he doesn’t know what’s about to happen.

“Alright, Mister Stark,” the man says. “You’ve been very patient, and I appreciate that. So now I’m going to explain why you’re here and what’s going to happen to you next.”

Peter can barely breathe around the gag.

He doesn’t think he’s ever hated anyone more.

“I watched my son bleed out in a collapsed building over the course of twelve hours a few years ago. I was trapped under rubble, so I couldn’t hold him while he died, even when I knew help wasn’t going to come in time.”

So this is a revenge story. This is personal.

Somehow, it makes everything worse.

“My son was the light of my life.” The man pulls in a deep breath. He sounds almost sad. Dismal. “He was blind, so I took care of him closely. I loved him more than anything, and I had to watch as he lost oxygen and the ability to speak before he finally succumbed.”

Blind. That’s probably why Peter can’t see; he hopes it’s not permanent.

“Mister Stark, this was during the battle of New York. A chitauri leviathan knocked over the building we were in and we didn’t have enough time to get out.

“He died without being able to see me.”

“So that’s your endgame?” Tony blurts, and Peter braces for a hit that doesn’t come. When it’s clear he isn’t going to be hurt, he continues. “You kill my kid because someone I was fighting killed yours?”

A chuckle, quiet, soft. “No. I have no desire to kill your son, Mister Stark.”

They’re not going to-

“I am going to leave you both here, and I am going to leave him in pain. It depends entirely on your team to come and save you. I will not be held responsible for his death when it comes, just like you weren’t held responsible for that of my son.”

Oh.

Peter tenses as the hands on his arms start to lift, raising his limbs above his head. His heart races, faster and faster, but no matter how many times he shakes his head and hopes they know that he’s begging, they don’t stop.

Something is laced through the cuffs around his wrists. Pulled taut so that, even when he is released and left to stand on his own, he can’t do so much as bend his knees or elbows. He whimpers through the fabric, stiff as a board.

The man’s hand is on his elbow. He squeezes, once, before letting go.

“Good-bye, Stark. Enjoy these last days.”

And the thing between his hands begins to lift.

It lifts, and it lifts, and it lifts. Until Peter’s feet begin to lift with it. Until his toes are the only thing left on the ground, and he’s desperately clinging to his anger, shaking his head profusely and finally allowing the tears to spill over.

His feet leave the ground.

The door closes.

They’re alone.

“God- God, kid, you’re okay,” Tony sobs, far, far away. “The team will be here soon, and they’ll get you down. I promise, you’re going to be okay.”

Peter can’t answer. He doesn’t think he would if he didn’t have this awful thing in his mouth. Doesn’t think he’d have the energy to open his mouth.

His shoulders start to ache after a few minutes of hanging in midair, the pain made all the worse by his lack of sight. He doesn’t struggle, just stays. Stays still and pliant should anybody come to get him.

Nobody does.

Minutes bleed into hours, time becomes fluid. The pain in his muscles escalates from an ache to a burn, and no matter how hard he cries, he can’t seem to gain even a moment of reprieve. His chest convulses, spasms as he tries to suck in enough air to power his body around the sobs and the towel.

Tony keeps talking. Trying to comfort him.

He can’t hear any of it anymore.

Eventually, Peter’s shoulders go numb and he sort of… stops. Stops thinking. Stops wondering when rescue will come. Stops thinking it will.

He doesn’t know how long it’s been.

Hours? Days? He feels dehydrated and hungry enough for it to have been days.

He wants Tony.

Wants to be held. To be able to speak.

Peter drifts so far back into his mind that there’s nothing, and he’s not hurting, and everything is quiet. He counts- one, two, three, four-

And, when he reaches four thousand eight hundred and ninety-two, the door opens.

This time, it isn’t with a creak, but with a loud bang as the door slams against the wall. Tony shouts out a name, starts to speak, but Peter can do nothing but tense his muscles and wait, because  he knows that the man is back to finish him off now and there’s nothing he can do to protect himself.

Instead of rough, angry hands, though, there are familiar hands with callouses brushing against his face. His half-closed eyes. Reaching around the back of his head and undoing the knot before gently pulling the towel out of his mouth.

Someone places the mouth of a water bottle to his lips, and he draws in a greedy sip, coughing as just a little bit too much drips down his throat.

“It’s alright,” Tony murmurs, carding a hand gently through his hair. “It’s alright, Peter. Breathe.”

“Get-” Another cough, this one because his throat is dry and using his voice hurts. “D-down. Down.”

“Hold on.” Rhodey. “We will, okay? Just let us fix your eyes, Peter.”

“You’ve gotta open them,” Tony says.

Peter shakes his head. He doesn’t think he has enough energy. “Can’t.”

A heavy, tired sigh. “Alright. Breathe deep, kiddo, and just- just be still. So I can take them out.”

A pair of gentle fingers rest on his closed eyelids before lifting up, feather-light. Peter groans as a fingertip meets his eye, pulls something away, and quickly closes it before repeating the same treatment with his other.

“Don’t open your eyes yet. It’ll hurt.”

Peter nods. Remains limp and pliant as hands pull him down from the air and set to work unlocking his restraints, leaving his arms and legs free and tired and floppy.

He can barely move for lack of use, but Tony is holding him. Tony is cradling to his chest and keeping him close and murmuring something into his ear.

He’s okay.

[ooops-i-arted]

“Who told you that?” For the 101 AU please

Din scanned his room, making sure he hadn’t forgotten anything.  His armor was on, he’d packed extra weaponry onto the Crest, and he had extra supplies on board just in case his trip and stay on Coruscant took longer than expected.  Skywalker had promised that he’d make sure Din got anything he needed and even offered his own place for Din to stay, but even though Din respected the Jedi Master well enough by now, he still preferred to be self-reliant.

He found the Mandalorians squeaker toy Ika’ika was so fond of under his bed and tucked it into a pouch on his belt, hoping it wouldn’t make any noise at the wrong time.  All that was left was to retrieve his littlest one, and then they could depart.

The kids were outside, being entertained by Skywalker - they loved playing their sorcery games with an adult who could actively participate, not just repeat “Don’t lift me up!” - but Din had left Ika’ika in his crib because he was asleep, and needed the rest before the trip.  He walked over to the bassinet in the middle of the room.  “Ika’ika.  Are you awake?”

He looked inside.  Ika’ika was not there.

Din sighed.  Impossibly tiny, so many genetic abnormalities Din didn’t even know if he would survive another year, only started crawling a few months ago, and he was still the finest escape artist of the entire clan.

Well, at least he’d grabbed the damn squeaker.  “Ika’ika,” called Din.  “Ika’ika.  Come here.”  He squeezed the toy, which squeaked obnoxiously.  Nothing.

“Ika’ika.”  He squeaked the toy again, pacing quietly through the room.  “Ika’ika, I’ve got your favorite toy for you.”  He activated his HUD, scanning for tracks, and to his surprise saw not Ika’ika’s miniature prints, but one of the older kids’ larger footprints.

“Ika’ika?”  The tracks led to the hallway, over towards the kitchen and into one of the cabinets.  Din switched off the HUD and squeaked the toy again.  This time, a returning squeak came from the cabinet, along with a “Shh!”

Din crouched down and opened the cabinet, finding his oldest and youngest tucked among the foodstuffs.  Ika’ika squealed happily, drooling down his front and immediately reaching out for Din, but Yod’ika shrank back, clutching Ika’ika tightly in his arms.

“What are you two doing in here?” Din asked.  Yod’ika kept his mouth pressed tightly shut, clinging harder to Ika’ika, who giggled and squirmed.

“You need to be gentle with him,” Din reminded Yod’ika.  He reached out a hand.  “Give him here.”

“No!” said Yod’ika, to Din’s surprise, scooting further back into the cabinet.

“Yod’ika,” said Din, trying to sound both stern and patient.  Yod’ika was never more prone to acting out than when Din was about to leave, but much as Din wanted him to be reassured he didn’t want Yod’ika thinking that delaying the trip was acceptable.  “You know Ika’ika and I are leaving with Skywalker this morning.  You need to give him to me.”

“No!” cried Yod’ika, yanking Ika’ika away and shoving himself further back into the cabinet.  “No, I won’t let you!”

Now the light reached Yod’ika’s face and to Din’s surprise, he could see tears welling up in his son’s eyes.  “Ad’ika?  What’s wrong?”

The tears spilled all over Yod’ika’s face.  “You’re g-gonna take him a-away!” wailed Yod’ika, clutching his littlest brother close.  “Y-you’re gonna g-give him t-t-to doctors and they’re gonna keep him in a lab and - and -”  He dissolved into sobs, unable to finish.

Din was torn between concern and sheer bemusement.  “Who told you that, ad’ika?”

“I h-heard you and M-Mister Luke and M-Miss L-Leia t-talking about it!” cried Yod’ika.  “Y-You’re gonna take h-him away and leave him there!”

“Of course I wouldn’t do that,” said Din.

“Yes you would!” screamed Yod’ika.

It was like a vibroknife had gone straight through his beskar.  Of course, why would Yod’ika think otherwise?  Hadn’t he taken Yod’ika - a little, innocent child who knew nothing about bounty hunting, only a Mandalorian he already loved enough to save him from a charging mudhorn - and left him in the hands of demagolke?  Din had never figured out what had happened during those terrible few hours he’d left Yod’ika there, but the equipment he had seen and the fact that Yod’ika never, ever spoke a word about what he’d faced had been enough to convince Din it had been horrible.

Without thinking, Din scooped them both up and held them close.  Belatedly, he wondered if he’d only scared Yod’ika more, but his son clutched tightly to his jumpsuit and cried, face buried in Din’s cloak.  Ika’ika reached out for the toy that had fallen from Din’s hands, and it floated up into the air until he was able to nab it and start gnawing on it.

Din adjusted them both so he could pat Yod’ika’s back, rubbing circles on it and murmuring soothing things until finally the crying died down to sniffles, trying to think about how to explain everything to Yod’ika.  He couldn’t leave like this, not with his son sobbing and afraid for his brother.

Carefully, Din set Ika’ika in his lap, making sure he was occupied enough by the toy and trapped in Din’s legs so that the clan’s master escape artist would have trouble trying to run.  Hearing Yod’ika stop crying, he placed his eldest on his knee, wiping away tears from his face.  “Listen, ad’ika,” he said.  “I promise, I promise I won’t let anyone hurt Ika’ika.  I am not leaving him.  I am going to stay with him, and bring him back home.  I promise.”

Yod’ika sniffled hugely, swiping at his tear-streaked cheeks, looking doubtful.

Din took the corner of his cloak to wipe his son’s face some more.  “Do you remember what I told you?  About why you have all your brothers?”

“Y-yes.”  Yod’ika swallowed, scrubbing at his face, and continued, “You s-said they took my genes a long time ago, when I don’t ’member.  From my b-blood or something.  And they made lots of copies of me.”

“Yes, they cloned you,” said Din, his chest hurting.  No child should have to know this, or have it explained to them.

“B-but when they made my vode they changed my genes,” said Yod’ika.  “So they’re the same as me.  But different too.”

“Yes, that’s right.  Lots of differences, some you can see, some you can’t.”  Din scooped up Ika’ika, keeping him from crawling up Din’s leg and setting him back safely in his lap.  “Like what color your skin is.”

“’Cuz we’re all different,” said Yod’ika, nodding.  “But especially Ika’ika.”

“Yes.”  Din glanced down; Ika’ika’s almost-white skin was stark against the dark blue onesie he was wearing.  All the kids were varying shades of green from genetic manipulation, or so the files he’d stolen from Kamino said, but where the others were subtle variations, not noticeable at a glance, Ika’ika’s pale green stood out.  “Especially Ika’ika.”

Din chewed at his lip, trying to figure out how to phrase it and get Yod’ika to understand.  “It’s not just color, though,” he said.  “And not just the Kaminoans who changed the genes.  The sample from you they had… as they got older, they degraded.”

“What’s de-grade-ed mean?”

“Um…”  Din glanced around, thinking, then said, “Starting to break down.  Like my old cloak, the one with holes in it.”

“Oh.”

Yod’ika nodded thoughtfully and seemed to understand, so Din continued.  “The gene sample was breaking down when they made Ika’ika.  So his genes aren’t just different, but some of them are… not the way they’re supposed to be either.  Broken, or without the right copies he’s supposed to have.  And because of that, he’s not as healthy as he should be.”

Yod’ika’s ears drooped as he looked down at his younger brother.  “But you take care of him, Dad,” he said.  “He doesn’t need anyone else…”

“Well, I don’t know everything, ad’ika,” said Din.  He scooped up Ika’ika in a bout of need to hold the tiny precious infant; the baby rolled over in his hands and squealed in delight, unperturbed by the serious conversation his father and brother were having about him.  “I can’t do a good job taking care of him if I don’t know what he needs.”

Yod’ika leaned forward; Din tilted his hands so Yod’ika could peer at his little brother, who was now entertaining himself by grabbing Din’s fingers and trying to eat them.  “He looks fine.  And he’s happy.”

“I know,” said Din.  “And I want to keep him that way.”  He caught Ika’ika before the baby could flop right out of his hands.  “Remember he got a rash from that first kind of diaper we got him?  And how he got sick from some kinds of food?  It might get better as he gets older, or it might get worse.  If someone looks at his genes, they can maybe tell me what kind of help he needs.”

Yod’ika scowled fiercely.  “You are taking him to a doctor!  In a lab!”

“Well, her title is doctor.  And yes, she works in a lab.  But she’s a geneticist.”  Din stroked his son’s head reassuringly.  “That means she knows about genes.  She can help Ika’ika.  She’s not going to hurt him.”

Yod’ika shook his head, starting to cry again.  “You can’t take him there, Dad!  You can’t!”

“Listen to me, ad’ika.”  Din set Ika’ika down in his lap and cupped Yod’ika’s face in his hands.  “This is not like the place I took you to before.  Or the place where we found your brothers.  Master Skywalker told me this place is safe, and I believe him.  I would never take Ika’ika there if I thought he would be hurt.”

Yod’ika sniffled, glancing down at Ika’ika.  “What if it is bad?  What if they try to take him away from you?”

“Then I’ll shoot them.”

“What if there are lots and lots of bad people?  Too many for you to shoot them all?”

“Master Skywalker said he would help me.”  Din wiped a stray tear from Yod’ika’s cheek.  “He knows about how we found your brothers.  He promised he would tell me if Ika’ika felt too scared in the Force, and that we could leave any time we wanted to.”

Yod’ika scooted closer, curling up at Din’s side.  “You won’t leave Ika’ika there?  You promise?”

Din hugged him close.  “I promise. Haat, ijaa, haa’it.”

Yod’ika leaned into the hug, staying there for a long moment before he reached down and picked up Ika’ika instead.  “It’s okay, Ika’ika,” he said, clumsily rocking his brother, who giggled at the sensation.  “Dad will take care of you.”

“Is he scared?” asked Din.  Yod’ika in his oldest brothers were very good at picking up on what the babies felt, a skill he relied on frequently.

“No,” said Yod’ika.  “He likes being with you.”

“Then he’ll be happy.  Because he’s going to stay with me, no matter what,” Din told Yod’ika firmly.

Yod’ika held Ika’ika for a long moment, but then finally handed him over to Din.