#*shaking covered in blood* I’m completely normal about this old man

[teethbomb]

This is aladors voice to me do you understand

[boldlyvoid]

No Longer Alone Together: Part 3

Part Three | Masterlist

December 5th: 

They slip back into normalcy quite easily. She goes back to her normal shifts for just 1 week before her Christmas break starts, and a similar thing was true for the kids, their last day was on the 23rd, however. 

Spencer is up at 6am, he answers the door for Emily and gives her a big welcome home hug. PJ sits with them in their bed for an hour, babbling and driving his little toy cars over the sheets while Y/N gets another hour in. Luna comes in around 7, and Spencer has to wake the other 2 up at 7:30 so they can have breakfast and get ready for the bus. They’re gone at 8:15, the first bell rings at 8:50 and they’d be home around 4. 

On Monday, she goes to her doctor before work to give a blood sample, she’s welcomed back by the secretary who has sat in the same wheelie chair since they had Atlas, she’s very happy to see Y/N again. 

In the doctor's main office, on the wall, all the healthy babies that Doctor Morison has delivered, have their photos hung on the wall. All three of her children are on there, Atlas covered in cake at his first birthday, Noelle all dressed up for her first professional photo with the chubbiest cheeks… and a newborn Luna sitting in Atlas’s arms with Noelle resting her head on her, hugging her brand new little sister with a huge smile. 

There’s going to be 4 up there soon… she shakes her head, thinking about it while she waits for the nurse. 

This time not even a decade ago, she was completely alone and crushing on some guy who kept coming into her wing of the museum. The one with the curly brown hair and the sweet blond boy he carried around on his shoulders to see the dinosaurs better. She spent over a year dreaming about being with a man like him… or just him in general. She wanted to mother his children and take them to the museum and live a happy life with someone who loved her… 

She has Paris to thank for the family she has now, if her dad didn’t take his girlfriend to France, she would’ve never had the courage to talk to Spencer… leave it to the city of love to be strong enough to bring people together even when they’re in the privacy of their own home. And then like magic, Taylor Swift wrote it into a song which plays in her headphones while she waits for her doctor. 

She has her blood taken, the nurse is lovely about it, and then she gets to talk to her regular doctor. They share a hug, it’s been a while since she’s seen her in person. They’ve been through a lot together… 

“So, you know this is considered a geriatric pregnancy now that you’re 40 and it comes with higher risks, right?” Dr. Morison asks. 

She nods, “yep… pretty nervous about it, actually.” 

“It’s not going to be too different, you’re just going to get poked a bit more often, but it’s just to make sure you’re both as healthy as possible,” she assures her. “How are you feeling, 9 weeks and 3 days is right when everything starts to get worse for you, usually…” 

She chuckles, “yeah… well, I’m not throwing up as much as I was with the others but I think it’s cause I was too busy, I wouldn’t let myself.” 

“Ah, I take it Spencer is back home now?” 

“How’d you know he was gone?” 

“I saw him on the tonight show on the ER TV of all places?” she shares with a surprised smile. “I bought the books too… I can’t believe it’s all based on real stories?” 

“Oh yeah, it was wild when he was still in the FBI…” she can’t believe it either. “He’ll be here for the ultrasound on Friday, though.” 

“Good… now, we have some extra tests that we can screen for this time around, I can go ahead and run them all with this blood test?”

“Yeah, absolutely,” she agrees easily. “I want to know everything.” 

December 9th:

And there he was beside her the day of the big ultrasound, with PJ strapped to his chest, taking his morning nap, heavy as ever for being 22 months old. 

They offered to take him every morning until the baby came, and then most days after that while they adjusted to having a newborn. PJ was an easy kid to watch, he was almost 2 after all, so he was in that peaceful stage between baby and toddler that they loved so much. It was a win-win getting to look after him. 

They don’t meet in the ultrasound room first. Instead, a nurse takes them back to that same office with the baby photos on the walls, nervous that something is wrong. 

Dr. Morison comes in with a smile, with nothing alarming in her presentation. And then she sits with a sigh and Spencer turns to Y/N with a look, reading her a lot better than Y/N ever could. 

“And who’s this?” She notices the baby on Spencer's chest. 

“Our nephew,” Spencer explains. “You know Laura and Emily Prentiss?” 

“Ah, Peter Joseph,” she knew exactly which baby that was. “Laura’s due any day now, isn’t she? I’m on call to deliver.” 

“We know…” Y/N can tell she’s stalling. 

There’s something she’s scared to say. 

“So, right to business, I guess… We ran your blood and found something,” she leads. “It’s not bad, it’s not life-threatening, but this baby does have 3 copies of chromosome number 21, meaning—

“They have down syndrome?” Spencer knows right away. 

Dr. Morison nods. “They do.” 

“That’s okay,” Y/N looks between Spencer and their doctor, watching their faces to make sure they thought so too. “They’re okay, otherwise, right?” 

“We have to do the ultrasound to make sure, but yes, they’re healthy according to all your other levels,” she assures them. “It’s highly common for women over 35 to pass on two copies of the 21st chromosome, actually 1 in 800 babies in the united states is born with trisomy 21 and as of 2022, the life expectancy of a person born with trisomy 21 is 60 plus years old… there is a high likely hood they will have some developmental delays and some physical disabilities too like sleep apnea or gastrointestinal problems… but we won’t know until they’re born.” 

“Okay,” Y/N takes a deep breath, accepting it easily, she always said she’d love every child no matter what. “um… do you know what their sex is on there?” 

“Oh, yeah, I have it,” she stalls, making sure Spencer has the time to catch up.

He’s quiet because he’s thinking about it all, he knows a lot about trisomy 21 in his brain. It was going to be an adjustment, but they could do it easily with him being home all the time and the child probably needing more support, it was going to work fine. Thinking about maybe homeschooling them to avoid bullying and ensure she learns to the best of her ability and any of the other kids could switch to homeschooling too. And he wouldn’t mind taking a huge hiatus from writings books, even if the publishers get mad. His family comes first. 

“Spence?” Y/N nudges him.

“Sorry. Please, go on,” Spencer realizes they’re waiting for him. “I’d love to know.” 

“You’re having another little girl,” she smiles, watching as they turn to each other with big eyes and matching gasps. 

“No way?” Y/N can’t believe it, she had an inkling they’d be a boy because this pregnancy was similar to Atlas’s so far but, clearly, she was wrong. 

“The tests don’t lie,” she jokes, letting them live in the moment for a minute. “Would you like to go see her?” 

“Absolutely.” 

They follow her into the ultrasound room she gets all undressed and on the table, nervous as ever to see her. Dr. Morison is quiet while she does the exam, watching the screen alone at first and then turning the screen on the wall on for them to see. She walks them through everything she sees, what’s normal and what she expected to see with the trisomy 21 diagnosis. It’s not as scary as she thought, the anxiety in her body fades as reality settles. 

They get pictures and pamphlets and book a million more appointments for different things over the next few months. It’s a lot to process, but thankfully they have a few months to get ready for everything. 

PJ’s back in his car seat, and the two of them sit in the front of the van, Spencer offers to drive home but neither one of them is really ready to go yet. They just sit there. Quietly. 

“How are you feeling?” 

“I don’t know,” she can’t describe it. “I’m just worried about her…” she rubs her hand over her belly. “It’ll be difficult on us, sure whatever, but what about her? She’s going to have health issues her whole life and kids are fucking mean?” 

“Believe me, I know,” Spencer reaches over to hold her hand. “But she has two older sisters and a big brother to watch out for her alongside us. And like 10 cousins… she’s going to be very loved, very protected, she’s going to have a good life with us.” 

He’s right. He always is. He has a 6th sense for when things are good for them, like he can tell what was set out by fate and what was temptation just waiting for them to reach out and make their perfectly crafted stack of cards come crumbling down. 

They take PJ back to Laura, finding that Will’s truck is in the driveway, so he must be over too. Sure enough, they walk right in and find Will in the kitchen making Laura some lunch while she sits at the counter rubbing her big belly. 

“Hey!!” They cheer as soon as they see Spencer, although Laura doesn’t get up from her seat, she really can’t with how pregnant she is. “Welcome home!” 

“Hi,” he gives her a quick hug, “how are you feeling?” 

“Good, ready to be done, you know…” she shrugs. He’s heard it all, having witnessed the end of pregnancy many times already, he knew it was hardest on them. “How’s my little man?” 

“He’s good,” Y/N gives her a half-hearted smile while holding little PJ, still asleep and slowly waking up on her shoulder. “He slept a lot longer than usual cause we were in the car after his nap time and you know he loves cars.” 

“Where’d you go?” Will asks before Laura can get to it. 

“We had a doctor's appointment,” Spencer shoots her a look, wondering if they’re going to tell their support system now or later… he didn’t really have a choice, they read him like a book. 

“You’re pregnant again?” Will points at her, “I knew it. I had a feeling last week when we had lunch at the museum…”

“Yeah,” she takes a deep breath, “and— and we got news, it’s not bad news… we love her already no matter what, but we found out today she has down syndrome.” 

“Oh,” Will and Laura look at each other with the same expression. 

“That’s normal for people our age, though, right?” Will asks, “there are two boys with it in Henry’s class and a guy in my jujitsu club’s daughter has it, they’re all wonderful little kids…”

“Yeah, no, we’re excited, it’s going to be fine,” Spencer reiterates. 

“And you know Amelia from Grey's anatomy? Her daughter in real life has it too, she’s the sweetest thing,” Laura adds. “Did you guys plan this… is that why you’re so hesitant to be excited?” 

She takes a deep breath and bounces PJ slightly, soothing herself more than him with the simple rhythmic movement. “We don’t use condoms, never have, so technically we’re always trying… I’m hesitant cause— cause this is now a high-risk pregnancy on top of being a geriatric one. I have to do more tests, she’s going to go through medical problems her whole life, she’s going to be dependent on us for a lot of things well into her adulthood… and the world's not looking too good right now, so like, I’m feeling terrible like it’s my fault and— and,” she finally breaks down, covering her face as she cries. 

Will and Spencer crowd her, Will takes PJ from her and Spencer wraps her up in a hug, “hey, it’s okay. It’s not your fault, you didn’t do anything wrong.” 

“I know, I’m just pregnant,” she cries harder, embarrassed more than anything to be doing this in front of their friends, but they were her best friends in the whole world. They would hear this at some point anyway. 

She takes a seat beside Laura at the kitchen counter, finally, Laura offers over half of her sandwich but Y/N doesn’t want it. Spencer stands behind her, rubbing her back gently, he knows they have to leave soon to make it back to the house in time for Luna to get off the bus, but she needs her people. 

“I’m just going to run home,” he whispers to the top of her head before pressing a kiss there, “you stay and chat.” 

“Okay,” she knows exactly why he’s going, the others do too. 

“Do you need anything while I’m out, Laur?” Spencer asks, offering to go out of his way for her in her time of need. 

“I’m good, just hurry back here with my niece, I miss her,” she teases, having a wonderful bond with all 3 of them actually. 

Once Spencer’s gone, the other two look at her carefully, “why didn’t you tell us?” 

She shrugs, “I didn’t want to believe it was happening until he was home, honestly.” 

“I get that,” Will understands. “JJ found out with Michael at work and told Spencer before me and I was genuinely pissed…” 

“I remember,” Y/N can recall the phone call they had after it. “I knew right away basically, but I didn’t take a test till last week.”  

“When are you due?” Laura asks more so she knows when they’ll all have to step up to take care of Y/N this time. 

“July 10th… Nichola Teslas birthday, apparently,” she remembers how excited Spencer got when he realized that, repeating it with a smile. “And she’s a girl and she looked really good, you want to see?” 

That was a no-brainer. She takes the ultrasound photos out of her purse and hands it to them. “How do they know she has down syndrome?” 

“The blood tests and that there,” she points at the back of the baby's neck, “the fluid build-up is a telltale sign.” 

“Ah,” they both follow along.

“And you’re okay?” Laura asks, “do you need anything?” 

She shrugs, “I feel fine… I’m just nervous and you know my anxiety is always 10 times worse when I’m pregnant.” 

“Look at me,” Laura takes her hand in hers and stares into her eyes. “You’re a wonderful mom, you and Spencer are so good to your kids, a special needs child isn’t going to be difficult for you. You’re going to give them so much love and accept them for who they are and help them grow into who they’re meant to be just like you’re doing with the other 3… she’s going to grow up very loved. That’s all you could ask for, right?” 

“Yeah,” she cries lightly again, leaning over and resting her head on Lauras shoulder, “thank you.” 

Its moments like this she’s so unbelievably thankful for Spencer and that trip her parents took to Paris. She would’ve never known Laura or Will without him, without that trip setting the dominos for the rest of her in motion. She’d never know true friendship and love like this without it. 

—

Back at home later that afternoon, they have to get the older two from the bus and head right back out to the doctor's office to get Noelle's cast off. Her doctor is so proud of her for keeping it on right and helping her bones heal to the best of their ability. She gets a special sticker for doing such a good job around the saw as they cut it off and then she asks to keep the cast… her eyes well with tears and she cries when mom says no at first.

It stinks, it’s gross, and Y/N doesn’t want it in her house, so they compromise and cut out her favourite signatures to put in a memory box in her room. She loved her cast. She told everyone about how she broke her arm doing a cool skateboarding jump in her cousin's backyard and how she didn’t even cry in the hospital. It was her proudest achievement so far and Spencer wasn’t even there for any of it. 

He goes into a bit of a spiral that night after the kids go to bed. 

He sits with Y/N in the living room, she holds her phone in her hands as she scrolls through tiktok’s with a Christmas movie on in the background and Spencer's head in her lap. Occasionally she’ll scratch the top of his head like he’s a cat and rake her fingers through his hair, it’s usually relaxing but he can’t stop stressing. 

“Do you think they’re going to grow up and resent me for missing the last month?” He whispers. 

“What?” She doesn’t mean to laugh but it does sound a bit ridiculous. 

“I didn’t even know she broke her arm until she was home from the hospital?” He cries, “and it was apparently the best day of her life?” 

“Thats just because I let her have a whole tub of ice cream from the corner store,” Y/N downplays it. “Seriously, Will would have called you too if you weren’t in Chicago… I wasn’t there right away either, you know?” 

“I just feel guilty,” he sighs, looking up at her from his spot in her lap. “I wish I was here for that, for you… I still can’t get over how much Atlas cried when he saw me again. That broke my heart.” 

“He’s a sensitive soul,” she coos, stroking his hair back out of his eyes. “Just like you… seriously, it’s one month out of the full 18 years you get to spend with them here.” 

“We only have 10 more with him—

“Ah! No!” She points at him. “I am not thinking about that night now. Believe me, I know the math and I hate it too.”

He turns his head to the side and stares at her tummy, “at least we get a fresh start again soon…”

“We should call dad and Diana,” she suggests. “they’re going to be excited.” 

“Where did they go this year, again?” Spencer genuinely forgets, his last few months were so busy that he’s barely talked to his mom and when he did it was about himself. 

“They’re on a cruise in Alaska,” she says while back on her phone, pulling up the photo her dad sent her of him and Diana on the boat the first day. “They come home on the 21st.” 

They started a tradition of trips for Christmas, but since becoming grandparents, they’ve always come home with a few days to spare before the big day. They didn’t want to miss any time with their grandkids, not when they didn’t know how much time they had left. 

“That sounds fun,” he’s envious. “We should take a trip before this baby, just me and you…” 

“When? We’re already taking the kids to Florida in March?” She reminds him, the whole thing was already planned with JJ, Will, their kids and Penny coming too. 

He shrugs, “we’ll find time… even if we just go to DC for 2 nights away. I miss this, just doing nothing together for hours on end.” 

“Me too,” she lets out a deeper sigh as she thinks about it. “We’re done after this baby, right?” 

“Do you want to be?” 

She nods, “yeah, I don’t think I can do this again… not with my bad eggs.” 

“You don’t have bad eggs,” he assures her, wrapping his arms around her middle and hugging her with his face pressed to her belly. “I know it's different and scary and it’ll be like being first-time parents again but that’s the fun part… I loved those first few months with just me, you and Atlas. Even with the sleep deprivation and getting shit on, I loved spending time with you and now we get to do it again.” 

“It’s taking everything in me not to google it,” she admits. “I want to know everything that can go terribly wrong but I also know thats the worst thing I could do to myself right now.” 

“Yeah, maybe don’t,” Spencer agreed. “We have another appointment in the new year and we’re going to learn everything then. It’ll be okay.” 

“You keep saying that.” 

“‘Cause I mean it,” he didn’t know what else to say. “We’ve gotten through some terrible things and made it this far. This isn’t a terrible thing, if anything, I’m glad that out of the 1 in 800 babies in the US born with down syndrome, it’s our baby who has it. She’s a baby who’s going to need a lot of love and who else loves like us? No one. We have a huge family, the kids will love her, Penny and Laura and Will, they’re going to love her and offer to spend just as much time with her as they do with the others. My mom and your dad are going to spoil her rotten and you know it. It’s going to be so absolutely okay.” 

She doesn’t mean to tear up but she does, overwhelmed with love. “I’m glad she’s ours too.”

[devilherself666]

Overhaul daughter x bakudeku part 2

Warnings: abuse, trauma, slow bonding, OC!

~Five years later~

It has been five years since The beautiful baby girl was born. She was in her room, it was beautiful in her eyes, all black with her gray and black covers on her bed, dream catchers everywhere. She looked up at her ceiling as she had her all might poster. She smiled as she heard the bell of the front door chime. “DADDY!” She yelled in excitement. She ran down stairs and saw him with his mask on and gloves on as she hugged him. “I missed you too, doll.” He spoke as he looked at her and no sign of a quirk was showing yet and overhaul was worried. “Let’s go to the doctor.” He spoke and Kai nodded. They both walked up stairs and picked out her outfit as she got herself dressed. She walked out and took her dads hand. “I am ready.” She smiled. He nodded and kissed her head. They then soon walked out of the room she was in; they were now living in the Yakuza. She walked out with her dad as they went to the doctor's office.

As they walked in, they saw a green haired boy waiting to see about his quirk as Kai was. She saw the boy and walked over to him and smiled. “Are you here for a quirk too?” She asked the boy. He shyly nodded at her. She giggled. “Shy are we?” She teased. He blushed a little as his freckles showed more when his face was red. “Awe!” She squealed. He hid his face. She shook her head. “I am sorry. I am Chisaki.” She smiled. “Midoriya.” The boy whispered and Kai smiled. “Cute name!” She giggled as her dad pulled her away from the boy. “What name did you tell him?” Her father was worried and Kai didn’t understand. “Chisaki?” She questioned and her father did not look happy and she knew that. “I told you! Go by your middle name.” He grabbed her arm hard. “D-daddy…I-I’m sorry.” She stuttered in fear. “What is your name?” He asked. “M-may.” She is still shaking. He sighed and nodded. “Good, now don’t talk to that boy any more.” He demanded and Kai soon sighed but named. “Yes sir.” She spoke.

Finally they got called back. The doctor was an old man, with glasses and he looked wired. Kai just followed her dad as she already broke one rule today, and she didn’t want the time out room. The doctor walked into the room and overhaul and Kai followed sitting down in front of him. As the adults talked, Kai looked around the plan room as she wasn’t a fan of the light that was in the room itself, reminding her of the timeout room. “Mind coming with me? We just need to run some tests.” The doctor asked and Kai looked at her father, who nodded and that made Kai nod. Kai and the doctor walk out to run the test such as; blood, x-ray and kat-scan.

As they walked back in the room, Kai had a smile on her face, ready to be told of her quirk. “So, from what I am seeing. She doesn’t have a quirk. Her pinky toe is completely normal.” The doctor spoke and Kai felt her whole world just spin. Overhaul was the most unhappy thing about all of this. “None?” He asked and the doctor shook his head. “None, I am very sorry.” He sighed and Kai stood tall and Overhaul sighed looking at her. “Let’s go, doll.” He spoke. Kai then nodded. Overhaul held out his hand, and Kai took it. As they walked out the office she saw the same green haired boy crying. She knew he didn’t have one either. She sighed as she felt the boy's pain. As Kai and overhaul walked home. She held in her tears, but as soon as she was in her bedroom she let it all out in her pillow. She screamed out in pain, muffled by the pillow. That was soon cut short by her father walking it. “What did I say about crying? Time Out room.” He pointed and Kai looked up with her red puffy eyes and put her head down as she got up slowly but too slow for her father. “Today!” He grabbed her arm and pulled her to the room. “Stay here until you are done crying.” He huffed and walked out locking the door behind him so she couldn’t leave until he let her out.

The time-out room was the opposite of her room. Light everywhere. Windows beaming in, no bed, no chair, just a cold wooden floor to sit or lay on, No pillow and no way to sleep with all the light that was given. The longest she spent in the room was a week, he didn’t feed her, let her sleep or shower while she was in time-out. She always tried to avoid it since she was two, but that didn’t seem to be the case.

As of now she has been crying for three days, her stomach hurting, her body templing, and her head spinning from no sleep. “D-daddy please, I am hungry.” She managed to get out. The door unlocked and overhaul looked down at her. “Are you done crying?” He asked and she nodded and he opened his arms and she ran and hugged him. He smiled and picked her up and took her and made her food, after the food he had her shower and finally she went to bed.

<<< >>>

[helliontherapscallion]

sibling hybrid!creeper reader headcannons/one-shot for SBI ( + ranboo? 🧍‍♀️ ) hurt/comfort. like maybe the reader struggles with emotions and doesn't know how to deal w/ them healthily, so they end up bottling them up and kinda explode at times.

sorry if this is too specific, i just really like your writing :) congrats on 1k!! <3

and one last thing,.. can i be 🫂 anon?

(A/N): I had a lot of fun with this one, and thank you : ) I hope you don’t mind that I added Tubbo. Also one more thing, I imagine the explosion is kinda like a Bakugou situation but uncontrollable

Warnings: anti-hybrid rhetoric/slurs (speciesism???), swearing, blood (not much, just mentions of a nose bleed)

It was completely an accident this time, it all just came so fast. You were standing in front of a store window when you felt something rub against your leg. When you looked down, panic engulfed your entire being when you saw an orange cat rubbing and nuzzling against your leg, letting out deep purrs. You had no clue why this cat wasn’t chasing you like all other cats usually did, but you didn’t want to ponder. You felt the familiar pressure building up inside of you as a startled hiss left your mouth and you jumped away from the creature. Your skin was sparking and popping as your freckles lit up in a glowing green light. 

Finally, explosions left your skin as the glass shattered next to you and gravel was turned up and thrown about. You fell to your knees and rubbed at your burning eyes and wiped the blood from your nose. Exploding like that had always taken a lot out of you and made your nose bleed. You suspected that it was because of the sudden build up and release of pressure and energy. 

The back of your shirt was grabbed and you were yanked off from the ground. There staring at you was the owner of the shop that you accidentally blew up. His green eyes were ablaze as he gritted his teeth and looked into your eyes.

“Do you have any idea what you just did?! You blew up my window!”

Small hisses left your mouth, “I-I’m sorry sir I swear I didn’t mean t-”

“Like hell you didn’t! Your kind always destroys everything!”

You stopped struggling and narrowed your eyes at him, “my kind?”

“Yes, hybrids! Filthy mutts, all you do is destroy! You’re a bunch of freaks.”

You could feel another explosion coming about and this time you did not even attempt to hold this one back. You stared him dead in the eyes with the harshest glare you could muster. As soon as the hisses started to leave your mouth and the freckles once again glowed green, the man’s eyes widened before he threw you into the street away from the building. Another explosion left you and disassembled the neat cobblestone of the road. A single stone flew and shattered what was left of the store window. Another flew and hit the store owner in the head knocking him out. 

And here you were now; hisses left your mouth as you ran down the beaten path of the village towards the exit. The iron golem following you was hot on your tail, it’s booming footsteps picking up dust clouds from the gravel. Villagers around you scattered and started to whisper fearfully amongst themselves. You could feel their fearful and angry stares burning holes through you. After you got out of the village and the iron golem was still chasing you, you ducked into the forest where you knew it wouldn’t follow you. You climbed up a tree and watched as the golem angrily smacked the foliage out of the way before it gave up and hobbled back into the village. 

You dragged your feet tiredly back home, wanting nothing more than to collapse in your bed. Your senses were on overdrive as you were hyper aware of everything around you. You’ve never exploded twice within the span of ten minutes before, and it wore you out. Small exhausted hisses left your mouth as you trudged along the path. 

After getting home you walked past a confused and concerned Wilbur, dodging his hands that were trying to grab you so he could get a better look at you. You walked up the stairs ignoring his questions and walked past Tommy.

“Hey sparky, what’s got you lookin like shit?” He asked you before he started to laugh to himself at the nickname he knew you hated. You winced at the volume of his voice before you hissed angrily and stomped off into your room before you passed out immediately in your bed the second you threw yourself onto it. 

You didn’t wake up until a hand shook you awake firmly. You peeled open your eyes to see Tommy hovering over you looking slightly scared. When you fully opened your eyes, he sighed in relief.

“Oh my fucking Ender, I thought you died for a second.”

You only groaned and covered your head with the covers trying to block out the morning light streaming into your room and Tommy’s voice. He shook you more, your entire bed shaking with it. “Get up. Dad wants you downstairs for breakfast cuz you skipped lunch and dinner.”

You said nothing as he ripped the covers off from you eventually and pulled you out of your bed. You landed on the floor with a thump and hissed a little in frustration. You stood up and pushed him out of your room and slammed the door behind him. The locked door handle jimmied before it stopped and everything was silent. You prayed that he went away, but alas he didn’t. You rubbed your forehead when he started to knock at your door in multiples of two.

Knock knock, “(y/n)?” Knock knock, “(y/n)?” Knock knock, “(y/n)?” Knock kno-

“I’ll be down in a minute fuckface. I’m gonna get dressed.”

“If you aren’t down in five minutes I’m getting Techno. He’ll carry your ass down.”

Downstairs, you shambled into the kitchen past the table and poured yourself a cup of coffee. Your family silently watched you before the conversation started back up again. You plopped down next to Wilbur and sipped at your coffee deliriously. He eyed you in concern, “you okay?” You hummed and poked at your eggs. You didn’t feel hungry at all. “You su-”

“Yes, I’m sure Wilbur.” You glanced at him from the corner of your eye and returned to your coffee. After your fourth cup of coffee you were cut off by a concerned Philza. Even after four cups of coffee, you still felt slightly physically drained and it showed in your sluggish movements. Your day went by with you holding in your frustration and anger from everybody constantly asking if you were okay. Days of holding in explosions passed with them finally leaving you alone. However, that did nothing to alleviate your bottled up frustrations.

Techno was sitting on the couch reading a book while Wilbur was sitting in the chair across the room trying to find the lyrics of his next song. Philza was in the kitchen doing who knows what. You were currently walking up to Tommy’s room to say hi to your old friends Tubbo and Ranboo after getting home from a trip to another village. 

That trip was rough for you but not as rough as the one a few days prior; you could only stand so much fear filled and hateful staring after all. Your creeper features consisting of pitch black irises and dark gray sclera, a mop of dark green hair, and green freckles sprayed randomly across your skin was definitely an attention grabber for anyone. A few of the kids even threw rotten tomatoes and stones at you, it was so hard holding in explosions by the time you left that you just felt very overwhelmed. Hanging out around the self proclaimed ‘bench trio’ always enough to calm you down from a rough day. Mellohi’s muffled relaxed beat makes the corners of your lips twitch into a small smile. 

However just as you opened the door to Tommy’s room, you could hear their conversation end. “Hey guys, how’re-”

A yelp left your throat as something very cold drenched your body. An iron bucket came tumbling down and hit your head before falling to the floor with a clank. The pressure that has been building up in your chest increased tenfold, but you closed your eyes, took a deep breath, and turned to walk to your room for a change of clothes. Behind you, you heard Tommy laughing hysterically while Tubbo tried to apologize between his own laughter. You didn’t even have to look at Ranboo to know that he was guiltily fiddling with his sleeves as his tail flicked back and forth sharply. 

After you went into your room, you grabbed your pillow and screamed as loud as you could into it to blow off some steam. After that didn’t work, you tried punching the pillow relentlessly but that didn’t work. You could still feel pressure and energy inside your chest lingering and threatening to burst. 

You sighed and made your way downstairs walking past Tommy’s door. You could now hear Ranboo laughing with them, and that just made you even more angry than you were before. 

Everything around you was pissing you off. Philza’s wings fluttering behind him subconsciously, Technoblade’s little ‘heh’’s as he read something that caught him off guard in his book, Wilbur’s humming and mumbling to himself as he composed his next song, Tommy’s, Ranboo’s, and Tubbo’s loud laughter echoing from Tommy’s room. Every little sound was enough to send you over the edge. Just as you were about to leave the house to calm down again, a knock sounded at the door.

Philza gently pushed you behind him with furrowed brows and a hand on the sword hung around his hip. Techno’s book snapped shut as he stood up to grab his axe while Wilbur walked over to you and put a protective hand on your shoulder. You understood why they were cautious; you didn’t normally get visitors and the last time the house did, it was someone that decided to try and attack Technoblade on sight when he opened the door screaming about how hybrids aren’t natural. Keyword: tried. Techno absolutely would’ve killed him if it wasn’t for Philza holding him back. 

You felt anxiety creep up inside you as you fought against the small hisses trying to escape your mouth. The door opened slowly to reveal the store owner from a few days ago. His eyes hardened when he saw the wings sprouting from Philza’s back before his eyes flicked to you. He did not look happy to see you behind your dad’s massive wings. Without another word, you turned and ran up to your room when you felt the pressure become almost unbearable. 

You ran past Tommy, Tubbo, and Ranboo who were leaving Tommy’s room with hesitance. You didn’t respond when they tried to stop you. Slamming your door closed, you sat on your bed with your head clutched in your hands desperately trying to fight against the pressure building up. Small pops sounded on your skin as you grit your teeth in concentration. You could hear knocking at your door, thank god you locked it behind you. You had no idea how long you were sitting there trying to hold it back.

When the pressure became too much and you felt yourself losing grip on your control, you knew you needed to get out of the house as soon as possible. This was going to be a huge explosion, probably the biggest one you were going to do. The loud continuous hiss that left your throat was something you weren’t actively doing, another telltale sign that you were about to explode. You ripped open the door, pulled yourself from Tommy’s grasp, and ran as fast as you could downstairs. Philza followed you with a furious expression when he saw you, the store owner seemingly having left. 

“(Y/n), what in the hell did you do?” He grabbed your arm and pulled you to the living room. You tried your hardest to pull out of his grasp, but he was holding on too tight. The hissing had gotten slightly louder, but you moved a hand up to your mouth to try and muffle it. He sat you down on the couch and started pacing in front of you, his feathers puffed up angrily. Wilbur and Techno were eyeing you warily from across the room. 

“What were you thinking, blowing up his store like that? Were you even thinking? Cuz that was stupid (y/n). Hybrids get enough bad rap, and you go and pull this?!”

“Dad-”

“Not now Wilbur. As I was saying, you could’ve killed someone! What would you do then-”

“Dad,” Techno’s assertive tone stopped Philza in his tracks as he ran a hand down his face. “What could you possibly want right now, boys?”

“(Y/n)’s gonna explode soon.” Wilbur hurried over to you and helped you up. You could hear the three younger boys’ steps thundering down the stairs. By now, you were visibly shaking and sweating with the effort of holding explosions back. You could see the glowing of your freckles through the reflection of Wilbur’s glasses. 

“Shit,” Philza sounded panicked in that moment as Wilbur ushered you out of the house and into the forest. You pushed him away and stumbled your way deeper into the forest. You heard them attempting to follow you, but you gestured for them to get back. You had no idea how big this one was going to be, but it was definitely going to be large. 

You ran deeper into the forest until you couldn’t hold it back anymore. Leaning against a tree, you finally let yourself explode. This one was painful; your skin burned with every pop that emanated from your freckles, the burning making your free nerve endings scream at you. The last thing you saw was a wave of dirt splashing up before you blacked out. 

You were in and out of consciousness for the next week or so. Whenever you would wake up slightly, it would only be for a couple moments before you would pass out again. It was in those moments that the pain and the lack of energy hit you at full force. You supposed being unconscious was better than the mental and physical fog and the pain. 

By the time you fully woke up, your senses were slightly hyperactive, but nowhere near how you felt when you blew up that store. You reached up with a heavy hand to wipe at your crusty eyes before you heard rustling next to you. You looked over to see Philza standing at the door with a glass of water in his hand. When he saw that you were awake, he rushed to your side and helped you sit up. You took the water gratefully and drank it, the liquid refreshed your dry throat. 

“How’re you feeling?” 

“Tired and a little sore. How long was I out for?”

“About a week, you really worried us. That was a really big one. Do you know why it was so big?”

You nodded and looked down at the water in your hands, swirling it around the glass. You didn’t want to tell him about feeling angry and overwhelmed at every little thing around you the past few days. You felt guilty at that, they were just trying to live their lives while you were cursing them for merely existing. A finger under your chin made you look up at Philza. His eyes were full of gentleness and empathy, “c’mon, you can tell me. I want to help you.”

“I don’t know where to start.”

“Start wherever you feel comfortable. Take as much time as you need.” He sat on the edge of your bed and looked around your room while he waited. You took a second to gather your thoughts before you took a deep breath. Philza perked up and diverted his full attention to you. 

“It started when I first blew up that guy’s store. I swear it was an accident that time, a cat snuck up on me and rubbed on me,” you shuddered, small hisses leaving your mouth. “The guy came out and picked me up by my shirt. He called us some names so I kinda got mad and blew up on purpose.”

“‘Us’?”

You nodded, “hybrids. He said that ‘our kind’ destroys everything.” You glared at the glass in your hands, hissing in contempt and watching the freckles dully glow green. “He called us ‘filthy mutts’ and freaks, Dad.” Philza looked slightly peeved at the name calling, “still, you shouldn’t’ve blown up on him. You could’ve killed him, (y/n).”

“So you’re saying that it’s okay for him to call us slurs? Should we just let people slander us?” You narrowed your eyes at him. He shook his head, his medium length blond hair swaying with the movement. “Hell no, I’m not saying that at all. You should never let someone call you things, but violence is never the answer.”

You huffed, crossing your arms, “frankly, he deserved what was coming to him. I just wish he didn’t throw me before I could blow up.” 

“Hold on, he fucking threw you?” You nodded and watched his eyes darken and anger flash across his face, “violence is sometimes the answer then. Did he hurt you?” 

“No, but I just felt so… so drained. But so overwhelmed at the same time. I’ve never exploded twice in the same day before.”

He hummed in realization, “so that’s why you slept through most of the day. Sorry, go on.”

“After Tommy woke me up everything just felt worse. It was like everything around me was amplified. It was hell, the last few days I was just hyper aware of everything and it was pissing me off. Every little thing drove me crazy, I could feel myself getting closer and closer to exploding but I held it back until I couldn’t anymore.” 

“(Y/n), you know that’s not healthy… I talked to Sam, you remember right?” You shook your head, “well, he was an old friend of Wilbur’s. He used to come here all the time before he had to move away. He’s a creeper hybrid like you,” he chuckled when you perked up, “he gave me some advice on your anatomy when you were growing up. Anyways, he told me that sensory overload is common when you explode. He said that it’s normal to feel drained afterwards and to definitely get plenty of sleep. The sensory issues apparently get worse if your rest is interrupted, so that was probably why you felt overwhelmed in the past few days… He also told me that it really isn’t healthy to explode more than once a day or to hold it in for longer than necessary. Please just come to me if you’re feeling overwhelmed again or if you need to rest after exploding. I can even build you an obsidian building where you could go and not blow up anything.”

“...I’d like that. What- what else did he tell you?” Philza chuckled and started to tell you more about what Sam told him about his anatomy. He even gave you Sam’s comms contact so you could contact him if you had any questions or wanted some advice. He was a nice man when you talked to him, always having an answer for your questions. You even found old pictures of you as a baby following him around. Apparently you could tell that he was part creeper; wherever he was in the house, you were bound to be near him.

The rest of the day, you hung out with the rest of your family and the bench trio. 

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

Techno wasn’t one for open affection, being the type to give you little trinkets and giving you suggestions on what to read next. Every time you woke up, you would find small objects ranging from gold to emeralds and books on your nightstand. He would vehemently deny being the one that gave you the items, but you and the rest of the family knew better. Sometimes, he would drop into your room to ask you what you thought of the book and have a thorough discussion about it with you while you were recovering. 

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

You leaned against Wilbur’s side with his arm wrapped around you. The hand that was around you was rubbing circles into your shoulder. After he scolded you for bottling up your emotions, he climbed into your bed and pulled you to his side. Small hums left his throat. 

“(Y/n)?” You hummed, your eyes half lidded and almost about to fall asleep. “Would you mind if I wrote a song about you? It would fit with the next album’s theme.” 

“Knock yourself out.” Your words were slightly slurred as you nuzzled closer to him. He laughed a bit, the sound being muffled and reverberating his chest. “Get some sleep. I’ll brainstorm some ideas to run by you before you wake up.”

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

Hanging out with the self proclaimed ‘bench trio’ was always fun, even if you were on strict orders to stay in bed by Dadza. Nobody argues with a concerned Dadza, but they found other ways to hang out with you. Tommy had moved his jukebox into your room and was playing cat, the music soothing you immensely and putting an end to your worries. However, what didn’t soothe you was the card game in front of you. 

You were watching in horror as everybody put down a plus two card stacking the amount the victim would have to draw. So far, the plus two streak had already gone around the circle once and is now going around once more. It was nearing your turn and it was with great horror that you realized you didn’t have a color changing card or a plus two card. The two cards in your hand felt heavy as you watched Ranboo pull out another card.

“Please Ranboo, I’ll do anything. Don’t put that card down.” You watched as his ears twitched before he smiled innocently at you, putting the card down and laughing at you when you started the long process of drawing fourteen cards and sorting them. 

“Sorry, my hand slipped.”

“Get fucked (y/n)!” Tommy cackled at you. You flipped him off before you went back to sorting the cards. Tubbo put down a plus four color changing card and smiled at Tommy. 

“Sorry Tommy, but uno and the color is now red!”

“Goddamnit Tubbo! That’s the one color I don’t have,” he grumbled and drew four cards. Ranboo smiled triumphantly and put down his last card before showing you his empty hands. “What?! You didn’t even say uno!” You eyed his smug smile with disbelief. 

“You guys didn’t call me on it though.”

“That’s not the rules, Ranboo! You have to say uno!” Tommy argued. Long story short, the rules had to be looked up and the family had to be consulted before your group came to the conclusion that you in fact do not have to call out uno and the other players could call them out on it. Eventually after a few tense games, the three were sitting on your bed. Ranboo had some difficulty with it due to his height, but he managed with his legs crossed. 

“(Y/n) do you reckon you could become charged if you were hit by lightning?”

“Tubbo, you’re a genius,” Tommy breathed out, “let’s go see!” 

“No, you will not go see. Sit back down.” Wilbur called out as he passed your room. The group slumped slightly. “We’ll see when I get better. Mark my words, the next thunderstorm that happens I will see if I can be charged.” You whispered to them, your eyes glinting with mischief. 

“I don’t really think that’s a good idea.”

“Of course it is, Ranboo. It probably won’t kill them.”

“Probably?” Ranboo raised an eyebrow at Tommy’s nonchalant answer. “Yes, probably.”

“I still have three lives left. If I die, I die.” You wove a hand in the air as you spoke and watched as Tubbo nodded in agreement. “Do it for science, (y/n).”

“Oh I will. For science!” You raised your water glass in the air and Tommy and Tubbo followed suit with wide smiles. “For science!”

You three turned to stare at a deadpanning Ranboo. He sighed before he raised his glass of milk and let out a monotone “for science.” You, Tommy, and Tubbo cheered as you clanked your glasses together. You could see a hint of a fond smile on Ranboo’s face as he watched you three chug your waters before he downed his milk in one swallow. 

You smirked at them and leaned close, talking lowly so that anyone passing by wouldn’t overhear you. “So, what’s our plan?”

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[bakuhoes-dumbass]

ABERRATION BOYS BIRTHDAY SPECIAL!

A/N: Hello my nerds, today is my Birthday! So to celebrate my unfortunate birth, I'm doing a special scenario post for my Ab!Boys!

~~

What do the boys from Aberration get you for your birthday?! (GN!Reader!)

These are NOT cannon to the storline.

Warnings: VERY DARK CONTENT. Yandere Headcannons ahead. Mentions of skinning, non-con cum-eating and video recording, stalking, murder, mutilation, manipulation, etc. If you are uncomfortable with these types of things, DO NOT READ. Proceed with caution, as I do not feel bad if you choose to do so while being warned.

MINORS DNI

~~~

Tokoyami

You're seated on the bed, staring at your simple but beautiful ankle bracelet Tokoyami bought for you. Smiling, you fiddle with the gems, entranced by the sparkle that reflects off them.

"Starlight?"

Your head snaps up to see your boyfriend sticking his head through the door way. A love-sick smile grows on your face. "Fumi, you're back!"

He chuckles before slipping through the door way and sits down on the bed, hands behind his back. "Do you remember what today is?" Your face scrunches up in thought before shaking your head. He sighs warmly at the cute look on your face. "Today's your birthday, my starlight. And I got you something."

Tokoyami moves his hands from behing him and your eyes light up upon seeing the book he hands you. "Fumi, thank you! It's beautiful." Your hand traces over the cover, following the lines of the ornate designs. "It looks so familiar..." you mumble.

Tokoyami swallows the lump in his throat. "It's one of a kind, love. Would you like me to read it to you?" He tries to steer the conversation away from your feeling of familiarity, not wantinf you to realize it's one of your old books from before he took you.

You nod excitedly and climb into his lap. His arms circle around you and hold you tight, as his thumb grazes over your anklet, eyes boring into the gems that track your every movement.

Kirishima-

"Happy Birthday to my Pebble~ Happy Birthday to my Pebble~"

You glare at the redhead smiling and dancing in front of you as you tug at your restraints. A low huff leaves your lips. "Can you stop? I don't want you celebrating my birthday."

Kirishima stops dancing and gives you a puppy-dog stare. "But why? It's the day my beautiful wife was born! It should be a day to rejoice!"

"Kirishima, I'm not your wife! I'm nor your girlfriend! I'm not anything to you!" You sit up in the bed you were restrained to, only able to move so far forward. "You drugged me, kidnapped me and are currently holding me against my will."

Kirishima watches with a mixture of sadness and anger at your defiant attitude. He hates it when you struggle. He doesn't understand why you're so reluctant to be here! With him! Your husband! That's when he remembers your gift.

"Oh! This is a perfect time to give you your birthday present!"

He drops to his knees and crawls under the bed. You hear rummeging underneath you and your terror spikes. You knew what he kept under the bed, so this couldn't be good. As he comes back up, he's holding a pair of black leather cuffs.

"Surprise! I got you new cuffs!" He climbes onto the bed and straddles you. "These are so cool because instead of being just normal cuffs, they have these two little metal rivets that will shock you whenever I want!"

Your eyes widen and your mouth opens to scream. Kirishima is quick, however. He grabs your face with his hand, hardening it so your scream is muffled. His face geta closer to yours, that sickening grin never leaving.

"Baby, you don't like it? Do you want something else? Don't worry! I have another gift in mind. How about a fresh, bloodied heart that was ripped out of the chest of that mean boss of yours?"

Hawks

"You see this right here?" Your cowroker holds her hand out, showing you and your fellow employees her brand new diamond ring. "He finally proposed! It was about time. It took him awhile to get an ACTUAL ring worthy of me, though. But it's so expensive and beautiful, EEP!"

Keigo watches as you roll your eyes for the thousandth time. He could tell you were getting annoyed, and I mean, who wouldn't? Your coworker has always been a complete bitch to everyone, a lot directed at you.

"Oof, it just sucks that Y/N can't seem to find someone. That's probably the only way they'll be able to look a little less," she looks you up and down. "Er, homeless."

Keigo watches from his perch as you flip her off snd walk away. His hands clench tightly into fists, desperately wanting to knock a bitch out. That's when it hit him. It was your birthday today! And now he knew just what he wanted to gift you.

~~~

"Bye guys, and thank you!"

You wave to your friends after they drop you off at home. They had taken you out for dinner for your birthday and you bad fun. Definitely something you needed after the crappy morning you had.

As you walk up to your door, you notice a small package waiting for you outside. You smile, wondering of it was your long distance partner sending you a birthday gift. You carefully open the package, but once you see the contents, a scream is ripped out of your throat and you stumble away from the box.

Inside, what a severed finger with an absolutely beautiful diamond ring still on it. You failed to notice a small blood-covered note flitter to the floor.

'Happy Birthday, babybird. I hope you like it.'

Tamaki

Tamaki stares at you from behind a tree. He's been following you for a few hours now, just basking in all your wonderful glory. He stares at you with nothing but pure love and adoration in his eyes, wishing he could actually get up the nerve to speak to you.

Finally you're off of work and headed home. He really hates seeing you talk to all those really pretty people. What if you were to get a partner?! That wasn't him?! He whimpers at the thought, hands clenching and unclenching.

"Y/N!"

The sound of your name snaps him out of his thoughts. He watches as your friend, whom he deemed not-a-threat yet, skip up to you.

"Are you doing anything for your birthday tomorrow?"

Tamaki's face turns pale. Your birthday! How could he forget the most important day of his life?! The day his precious bunny was born. You would be so disappointed in him. He reluctantly scrambles away from his hiding spot and runs home to get your gift.

~~~

"Oh?"

You stand in your doorway, a package sitting on your front steps. You tilt your head in curiosity and pick it up. Opening it up, you find the most adorable stuffed bunny you've ever seen. And a note.

"Y/N, Happy Birthday! I hope you like this bunny, I thought if you when I saw it. Love, your secret admirer."

You squeal slightly and hug the soft fluff, thinking this was from your flirty coworker. You bring it up to your room and sit it on your bed next to your other stuffies.

Tamaki stares at the screen on his phone, his face bright red at the hug you gave the stuffed bunny. It actually felt like you were hugging him! His happiness was through the roof. He knew you would love it!

But his attention now is back on you as he watches you slowly take your clothes off, one by one, to get ready for bed. His tongue practically falls out of his mouth, watching your bare back closely.

One day, he swears he won't have to watch through the camera.

Overhaul

Chronos watches you closely over the top of his book. You glare at him with tears in your eyes while huddled up in the furthest corner of your human sized cage. Hugging your knees tighter to your chest, you turn your gaze away with a sniffle.

"You know the boss wouldn't want you to cry on your birthday."

You roll your eyes and grip you legs tighter. "I doubt someone who keeps a human in a cage really cares about when they want to cry." You sigh. "Besides, he probably doesn't even give a shit if it's my birthday. I don't even give a shit, at this point."

"Of course I care."

The hair on your body stands up on end as the voice of your captor appears. Fear shoots through you upon seeing his masked face. In one hand he has a gift bag, the other stuffed in his pocket.

"Why wouldn't I care about my pet's birthday?"

He squats to unlock the cage and gestures you over with his finger. You swallow the lump in your throat and crawl out to him, knowing the consequences if you don't follow his rules. He sits down in his chair and pats the side of his thigh for you to kneel next to him.

He opens the gift bag and pulls out a dog collar. A part of you wanted to gag at the thought of being collard to this maniac. But another part of you couldn't help but think how absolutely gorgeous and expensive this collar looked.

"Oh, it's beautiful... Master." You wanted to slap yourself for calling him that, but you had no choice. The last thing you want is to be punished.

Kai hums with approval at your words before buckling the collar around your neck. He finsihes it off with a small padlock to the back, so no one can remove it except for him. A gloves finger grazes over your neck in admiration before looking over to Chronos.

"Prep them for a routone cleaning."

The calmed state you were in was once more replaced by terror. "No, please Master! I've been good, I promise! Please dont do this!" You scramble backwards, away from the two masked men. But Kai was quick and hooked his fingers under your collar, dragging yoi back to him.

"You know this is a must, pet. I need to make sure every inch of you is cleansed before I send any more time with you." He taps the side of your collar with his free hand. "And there is no use attempting to run away. This will forever track any movement you make from here on out."

Kai throws your body over to Chronos, who throws your struggling self over his shoulder.

"Oh, and Happy Birthday, my pet."

Shoto

"Darling~"

You stir in your bed, hearing your boyfriend's voice.

"Darling, wake up~"

Eyes open to see a blurry red and white haired man softly smiling down at you. You stretch your body out and yawn with a cute smile.

"Mmmm Sho, good morning~"

Shoto sighs softly, admiring your beautiful features. "Guess what day it is today. It's a very special day."

You tolt your head, trying to remember the exact date but you are the sure. It's been while since time actually mattered.

"It's your birthday, darling! Happy Birthday! I've got something fun planned for you~"

You sit up, your chains rattling against the bed frame. "You do? I'm so excited! What is it?"

Shoto holds up his black card. "We're going shopping. I'll be getting whatever your heart desires."

Your eyes widen. "Wait, does that mean I actually get to go out? Really?!"

Shoto's smile falters before returning to a softened look. Slight guilt flashes in his eyes. "Darling, you know I can't let you go outside. It's not safe. No, we're doing online shopping~" Shoto grabs his phone and crawls behind you, sitting you in his lap. "Here lets look through some sights and get you some cute stuff."

"I want my darling to have everything they want, so they don't want to leave~"

Dabi

"Mouse."

You stay huddled up in the corner of the room, knees to your chest, not even daring to look at him. Dabi frowns at your defiant behavior. He knows he took you without your permission, but that was so long ago. Shouldn't you have been broken in by now?

"Little Mouse."

You continue to rock back and fourth on the floor, chains clanking together. Dabi sighs, annoyance starting to eat at him. He walks over to you and grabs yoi by the throat, lifting you up.

"You are to respond when I'm speaking to you. Understand?" You let out a little squeak and quickly nod your head with widened eyes. He sits you down on the bed and gives you a lazy smile. "That's better. Now, I have something for you."

He opens the closet door to bring out a box. He places it in front of you. "Happy Birthday, my little mouse."

"Oh, yeah. That's today." You mumble quietly. Kmowing Dabi, this gift was going to have some sort of catch but curiosity got the better of you. But curiosity turned into regret immediately as you throw the lid and scream.

Inside the box were a pair of boots. But they weren't jusf any pair of boots, they were handmade. It was human skin staples together, making them look just like Dabi himself.

"What, does my little mouse not like them?" He smirks before climbing on the bed. He grabs your legs and pulls you down towards him with a manic look on his face.

"That's fine. How about I burn my name into you instead?"

Bakugo

"KATSUKI!"

You jolt up in bed, suddenly awakened by a nightmare. Looking next to you, you see your boyfriend's side of the bed empty. A whimper escapes your lips as yoi trt to calm your racing heart.

"Angel?!" The door to the bedroom slams open, Bakugo's quirk popping in his hands and waiting to attack whomever touched his precious angel. He looks around frantically but notices nothing except your heavy breathing and sweat covered body. "Are you alright? What happened?"

You motion towards him with a sniffle and grabby hands. "I had a dream that you locked me back up in the basement again for days, without you." He comes sits next to you on the bed and pushes the hair out of your sweat covered face. "It was dark and silent and terrifying. Please don't do that again! I would miss you! I've been good, I promise!"

Bakugo sighs and pulls you into a hug. "I know, Angel. You've been doing so well, I'm so proud of you." He plants a kiss on your head as you relax into his arms. "I have a surprise for you actually. Stay right here."

You nod your head, watching him leave the room for a moment, your ankle tugging on the chain that attached you to the bed. I mean, it's not like you would get very far. Bakugo comes back in with a plate of cake and a candle.

"Happy Birthday, my beautiful angel."

Your eyes light up as he sets the piece of cake in front of you. You blow out the candle and take a bite, savoring the taste. "Kats, this is so good! The cake is so fluffy and the frosting is creamy and sweet. Thank you!"

Bakugo watches you with a lovesick grin on his face. He goes to adjust the tightness in his pants as he watches you devour his specially made cake without hesitation.

Denki

"Yeah, it's been super weird. I've been finding these little pieces of jewelry on my bed almost every night the past week."

You continue cleaning the counter as you explain to your cowroker the weird things that have been happening to you. She gives you a strange look.

"Are you sure you haven't misplaced your jewelry on your bed and just forgot?"

You turn your head to give her a dumbfounded look. "Uh, yeah. I think I would remember putting jewelry I've nevee seen before on my bed at the same time every night."

"Well, I don't know! It's just so weird. I don't have any other rational explanation." She suddenly gasps. "What if you have a stalker?!"

"Shh, don't say things like that." You hiss at her but a part of you is wondering if that might be true.

After your shift ends, you wave goodbye and begin your journey home. Unbeknownst to you, an energetic blonde watches as you walk home, excited for you to see your final birthday gift.

Once you step through the door of your house, something feels off. Having a weird feeling, you immediately but slowly make your way to your bedroom and turn on the lights. That's when you see a small but long white box placed on your bed, this time with a note. You carefully open the box to reveal a gorgeous necklace with a small black and yellow lightning bolt charm. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you reluctantly open up the note, hoping to finally uncover some answers.

"Happy Birthday, my dear. You can call me Kaminari. And soon, you will be all mine."

Midoriya

*Click*

You turn around upon hearing the closing of a camera shutter but see nothing. Thinking it's all in your head, you shrug and continue to walk to your parents for your birthday dinner.

"Shit, that was too close." Midoriya mumbles under his breath as he hides in a set of bushes just beyond your vision. He scrolls through his camera roll, looking through every single shot to make sure he's got what he needs.

"These aee perfect! Oh they're going to love it!" He checks to make sure you're long gone before he scrambles out of his hiding spot and runs home to make your gift.

~~~

You unlock the door to your house and step inside with a sigh. As much as you love your birthday and seeing your family, sometimes they can be a little much. Now it's time for you to sit back and relax. You change into your pajamas and turn on your comfort movie with a drink in hand, when suddenly your doorbell rings.

"Who the hell is here at 10 at night?"

You carefully peek through the peep hole in your door, not seeing anyone. Slowly, you open the door and look down to see a neatly wrapped gift. You know you probably shouldn't take a strange gift off of your doorstep, but curiosity gets the better of you.

Taking it back to your livingroom, you open it to reveal a scrapbook. Anxiety raises through your body as you open the first page. Eyes widen in horror the further you flip through, non-consentual pictures taken of you and your family litter the pages. Not only are there ones from being out in public, but private, intimate moments that no one should have seen. But the moment you found a lock of your hair glued to one of the pages was the moment you called the police.

Shinso

Shinso squats infront of you as you stare at him with dead eyes.

"Kitten, I have a surprise for you today."

You shake your head, mumbling. "I don't want it."

Shinso caresses your cheek with his hand before giving it a quick slap. You try ti3 jerk your head away but he grips your cheeks, squishing them together. "Stop being a brat, you don't even know what it is yet. Now, stand up."

You don't even get a chance to stand up yourself as Shinso hauls you up by your face. "I'm taking you out for your birthday."

Your eyea widen in fear and you shake your head. "N-No, please. I'd rather stay here. L-Let's do something together here. Please."

Shinso clicks his tongue. "Come now, kitten. I'm letting you go outside. We don't do this very often, it's a special treat. Is it not?"

You shake your head. "Please, no, everytime you take me out you-"

You go silent, mind fogged over and once again, under his control. There are moments when he mind-controls you to where you don't remember anything the morning after and those moments are awful. But when he feels like being extra cruel? He finally takes you outside, taking you out to eat, to see a movie, to go shopping. You're under his control the entire time but you remember everything. You are right there, fully aware of whats happening around you but can't do anything to ask for help, to save yourself. And it's terrifying

A tear rolls down your cheek as you follow him out the front door, his hand in yours. He smirks, knowing you could never leave him.

"Happy Birthday, Kitten."

[erodasfishtacos]

how do vamp H and YN meet

So we’ve established Harry’s grumpy and he finds YN to be the most annoying person on this planet. Is it a surprise she won’t leave him alone?

-

Harry hated humans. All of them, babies to elderly, he really didn’t discriminate. The only reason he was surrounded by them right now was to blend in.

He’d gone to nearly fifty different colleges in his time, all over the world, to not bring attention to his differences - like the fact he never ages.

Nobody knew he was a vampire but in normal human nature, something in human instinct told people to stay away from him.

Most did, there was the occasional girl who would push past that fear and still try to shoot their shot with him - but that never worked.

When there were group projects, he’d offer to do all the work to avoid having to meet the students outside of the lecture hall, and he’d never had one person turn down a chance to not do schoolwork.

Except now.

“Okay, Mr. Styles and Y/L/N. You two are going to cover The World War II Aftermath,” The professor announces as their final project - worth most their grade.

Perfect. He fought in the war. Also he’s written thousands of papers about this topic already in his academic time.

“Now I’m going to give you some time to find and get acquainted now but this will be an out of the classroom assignment. Try to schedule at least twice a week to meet,” Professor Humprehy announces loudly.

Harry figures the human will found him and she does, she plops down next to him and he grits his teeth when she accidentally spills some of her coffee on his notebook.

“Oops. Sorry, I’m Y/N,” She smiles kindly, reaching her hand out to shake the curly brunettes. But he just glances at her hand and frowns, ignoring it.

She smells of a artificial, overpowering cherry scent that makes him want to gag.

“I’ll do the project,” Harry tells her shortly before turning back to the front of the room, jaw clenched when she continues to look at him.

“Uh, rude? Also, no? I am participating in my final grade,” YN argues, tapping him to get him to look at her again.

When he felts a zip of electricity from the spot she touched, not painful but intense, “No, I will do it.”

“You’re a douchebag,” The human announces without fear, “I’ll meet you at the library, second floor, tonight at eight.”

Harry has to fight the urge to release his fangs and threaten her life until she’s shaking with tears falling down her cheeks.

Instead, he flares at her retreating back as she leaves the lecture hall. No fear in her body or neurological warning that she almost got herself killed.

Stupid little human.

-

Harry grits his teeth as the clock ticks by, the girl late to her own set up time. This is why he couldn’t stand the human race - one of the reasons.

“Hi! Sorry, I got distracted, there was band playing outside of Old Main,” YN titters as she drops her bag, her hair is damp like she just got out of the shower and her skin fresh, dewy.

No artificial perfume.

Her natural aroma floods Harry’s senses and it has him holding back a snarl at the pure sweet but savory mouthwatering scent.

She smells like sex, food, home.

All wrapped into one, his fangs begging to break through and dig into her soft skin.

Mate. Mate her. Make her your mate now.

Harry nearly topples of his seat, his internal predator had never been so loud but also he’d never heard that before - never desired to bond with someone.

Let alone a human.

It happened but very very rarely that a vamp would mate with a human. He only knows of one instance that ends with the human refusing the bond and the vamp killing him.

Humans were innately terrified of vampires so it wasn’t a compatible match to create a eternal bond of love and partnership.

“I have to go,” Harry snaps, harsher than intended. If he didn’t, he was going to do something he regretted but to an annoying, obnoxious human he despised.

—

He disappears off campus for a few days. He goes home to talk to his parents who assure him he was just having an off day and to ignore it.

When he arrives back, the next week, he is sitting in a shaded area on a bench. He was reading through a book that he’s read too many times to count.

Then a empty water bottle is being chucked at him, hitting off his shoulder before falling to the ground, and Harry looks up to see YN.

“You left me to do it myself!” She hollers loudly, making the vampire cringe at the high frequency but setting his normal glare.

“I had something come up,” Harry lies, well sorta, I mean beside the internal crisis of whether he’s looking at his mate right now.

“I-I couldn’t finish it, I failed,” The human breaks down, slick tears bubbling over the corner of her eyes with frustration.

Then Harry feels something he hadn’t in a very long while - remorse, empathy, shame. He didn’t miss them one fucking bit.

“I am sorry,” He says formally, straightening up his shoulders and tucking away his book.

YN scoffs, “Sure, sure your are. Well I just wanted to say fuck you because now I have to retake the class, asshole.”

With that, she storms away and Harry is left very very confused at the emotions swirling in his stomach right now.

—

It’s late, street lamps are on, and most professors are home already. Not Dr. Humphrey. Harry pays him a visit.

“Mr. Styles, what do I owe this pleasure?” The man asks his pupil, he was shoving papers into his briefcase.

“Change YN’s grade. Make it so she passes the class,” Harry orders, his shoulders so broad and straight.

The professor chuckles,”You know I can’t do that. She didn’t complete her final assignment.”

The vampire shifts until his eyes are pure black, not white or anything. His sharp, razor fangs presented as he curls his lips back.

His tone is other-worldly, deep as the depth of hell and it shakes the room like an earthquake, “You’ll do as I say, now.”

Dr. Humphrey opens his mouth in silent horror at the monster in front of him, eyes stuck wide open, and face crumpling.

“Y-yes, I-I will do-do that now.”

Harry reverts back to his twinkling green eyes and normal white smile, “Thank you.”

And as he’s leaving, he turns over his shoulder and says casually, “If you tell anyone about this, I’ll love to drain you blood and have you for my dinner.”

—

“What did you do?” YN accuses, finding Harry at the bookstore in town a few days later, “Dr. Humphrey won’t even look at me.”

“Don’t worry about it,” The vampire doesn’t even look at her, reading the spines of the books with faux interest.

Then, the most infuriating human to roam the planet - Harry seems, flicks his cheek to get his attention, he can’t stop when his fangs descend.

He’s never had a human get to him in the way this girl has.

Instead of a scream and horror, the absolute nutty college girl smirks, and clicks her tongue, “I bloody knew it!”

[twistedmusings]

My Kind of Human

Ramshackle stayed silent throughout the night, the moon and stars shining light into each room. 

All except one. 

I swear on my askbox that I am working on requests but this idea popped into my head and now it won’t leave and people always tell me to find a niche and I think my niche is angsty smut. And in this niche I will dwell ò uó. Aside from that, I’m very asexual so if my sexy scenes are bad you are more than welcome to roast me.   Reader is [G/N]  Warnings: Lemon soda (smut), possessive Malleus, bareback, dub-con and our good ol’ dragon boy just putting you under a spell so he can have you all to himself. 

“Do you have someone special, Tsunotarou?” 

Malleus stops walking as he looks down at your frame, your eyes staring up at the sky while you both are sitting down at the step of Ramshackle. 

“Special?” 

“Yeah.” you sigh as your eyes remain fixed on the stars, “Someone special. Like someone you wouldn’t trade for the world.” 

His first thought is his Grandmother. She had taken over the role of ruler of the Valley of Thorns and had let him grow in a somewhat normal fae childhood. He had heard many stories of children being forced to take the throne early on in their life and how damaging that decision turned out to be not just for the country but for the child as well. He was glad that his Grandmother remained steadfast and strong. There was also Lillia. Lillia, despite his constant antics, was always a guiding hand for Malleus in things he did not understand. Even now, Lillia would lend an ear whenever Malleus had a question about social interaction. Whether he would get a straight answer or a joke, that was just up to the older fae. 

“I have some people I consider that important.” Malleus looks up with you, “How about you, child of man?”

Your eyes remained fixed on the stars. 

You nod, “I do.” 

He laughs, “Is it your first year friends? I am sure Sebek would be glad to hear you say that.” 

“He would yell in my face before telling me he felt the same, you know how he is.” 

You two share a giggle before letting silence take over once again. “But it isn’t like that. The way I love Ace, Deuce, Jack, Epel and Sebek is different from what I’m talking about.” 

Malleus watches your eyes shine under the bright stars, some of them being reflected on your irises as you tilt your head and lean back to let your legs stretch out. 

“I’m talking about a person who you can’t live without, you know?” 

“I’m afraid I might need a bit more of an explanation.” 

You shrug, “I can’t fully explain it without sounding crazy but…imagine you one day find yourself completely alone. There is not one single person who understands what you are going through nor do they bother because they might believe that it is too hard to comprehend. You find yourself so alone that you start getting used to that loneliness.” 

The way your eyes sadden are not lost on him, copying your movements and leaning back so that he can stretch out as well. With how you are both positioned, your fingers are almost brushing. 

That wouldn’t do. 

You continue talking, not paying attention to how Malleus places his hand over yours. 

“But one day someone comes in and changes everything.” 

He lets himself feel the fluttering in his heart, having lost himself to this feeling a long time ago. The way his heart would beat faster when you smiled, when you laughed, how you would approach him without fear. From what Lillia had said, this was something akin to falling in love with someone. When asked who it was he was falling in love with, Malleus simply shook his head and avoided answering the question. 

What he felt for you was not for anyone else to know. 

“They just ‘get’ you.” you smile and close your eyes, “Everything thought you have, they somehow complete it. Long distances become shorter when you are with them and for a brief moment time just...stops. You find yourself yearning for this person and wonder if they think about you the same way, to the point of losing sleep. You want to be to them what they are to you.” 

You tilt your head towards him. 

“Am I making any sense?” 

Malleus nods and sits up, “More than enough.” 

He stares into your eyes, your color reflected back on his as he instinctively leans closer towards you. You were building up to something, he could feel it. The feelings you described, they were identical to the ones he felt for you. It hadn’t been that long since you came into his life but he couldn’t see himself not popping by Ramshackle dorm every night to share these talks with you. Malleus wasn’t necessarily that attached to you when you two first talked but the more you sought him out the more he opened himself up for you. 

Your conversations, your little adventures, your attention. 

It was all slowly consuming him and making him realize that you were no longer a human but his human. 

The question slipped out of him faster than he could think of it. 

“Who do you speak so highly of?” 

You turn to look at him, your body leaning towards him as well that he allowed himself to dwell in his imagination for a few seconds. His own body covering yours as you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer and asking him to take you with him the moment he graduated from this place. 

“It’s kinda what I wanted to talk about with you tonight.” you sit up with him and grin excitedly, “Remember what I told you about Crowley trying to find a way home for me?” 

He would answer your plea, taking your hand and kissing your palm before his lips made his way up your arm. 

“Well...he finally found it.” 

Malleus is pulled out his fantasy as he blinks twice, your smile shining just as bright as the stars above despite the awful revelation you had just given him. 

“I’m going home, Malleus.” 

You used his name. A part of him hoped that you would use his name when you two were in a much different and more favorable situation but you had just used his name to stab him in the heart with your wonderful news. 

“I was just saying all this because--I can’t believe I’m telling you this--before I came here I had these feelings about this person. They are everything to me but I was almost afraid to admit it? And this distance just...it just solidified what I felt for them.” 

He has to stop himself from reaching out to you and grabbing your wrist, thinking that the moment you got too far he would lose you forever. 

“Crowley says that I am going to be able to go back next week. So I’m just preparing myself to tell them everything I felt.” You turn to him and hold out your hand to help him stand up, one of the many things that Malleus loved that you did solely because he had an excuse to touch you. 

“I think a part of me just wanted to share this with you because I trust you. We’ve talked like this for so long that I think I just...tell you everything.” you smile sheepishly, “Which I hope you don’t mind, I did just spring it out of nowhere.” 

You were leaving him. 

“Tsunotarou?” 

You were leaving him for someone else. 

“Malleus?” 

You were leaving and he couldn’t stop it. You had these sorts of feelings for someone else and he couldn’t stop it. You opened him up and you were going to close him as if you were able to make the decision without any repercussions. You weren’t theirs, you also weren’t yours, you were his---

A hand shakes him from his thoughts as he focuses in on your eyes, his heart melting when he sees panic in them. 

“What’s wrong? Are you okay? What did I do?” 

He shakes his head and smiles as he takes your hand so you both could stand up. 

“Nothing.” Malleus pats your head, your size difference being made apparent to him even more than before, “I guess this is goodbye?” 

“No need to make it dramatic.” you lean into his touch, like a pet to their owner, “I’ll find some way for us to keep in contact. And if there isn’t--well then I will make one.” 

“I feel the same.” 

Malleus looks down and digs into his school jacket, smiling when you make a comment about this being a goodbye present. He puts a finger to his lips before pulling out a spool of thread, the top of the spool decorated with a sharp needle. “Give me your hand, child of man.” 

You nod and smile, doing as he told. “Is this going to be a blood pact of sorts? You don’t seem like the type, Tsunatarou~” 

He chuckles, “It is just a customary practice in the Valley of Thorns. Something that I believe will make our connection unbreakable.” 

Malleus brings your finger closer, the tip touching the spool as he expertly pricked your finger. You hiss for a second before smiling as you wave your finger. “Strangest friendship ritual ever, but it is very you so I will gladly partake in it…” 

A feeling of vertigo overtakes you as you lose your footing, your eyes closing as you feel yourself fall to the ground but finding yourself pressed against something warm. 

“...Mal--?”

You try to look up at him but gasp softly when your legs are swept under you, Malleus picking you up bridal style as you feel your eyelids growing heavier. Almost as if it was a chore to keep them open. 

“A true unbreakable connection.” 

Malleus opens the door to Ramshackle quickly, looking behind to see if he would need to take care of any pests that had made their way to the old dorm. Without any in sight, he closed the door, the lights on Ramshackle’s doorstep snuffing themselves out as the smoke drifted up into the starry sky. 

-------------

“Fgnaaa~!” Grimm yawns as he floats towards Ramshackle, yawning as he rubbed at his tired eyelids. 

Hands roaming up and down your torso, slowly undoing buttons as your hands rested on his wrists. Sloppy kisses shared between two amateurs but in between said kiss there seemed to be a forced passion, a need for the person above you to communicate how much he had wanted you. He had been caught stealing some food from Monstro Lounge and Azul had put him to work just like before, it had been a redo of what happened in Octavinelle all over again. 

Wanted wasn’t the right word, needed was the way to describe how he was feeling. His mouth traveled from your lips to your neck, your mouth opening up to let out a soft moan but being quieted down by his fingers slipping inside so they could rub against your tongue. You could barely keep your eyes open but with how you were looking at him, it almost made him believe that you were the one that initiated this. 

“Hnng?” he looks to see the lights in Ramshackle are all off, his head tilting in curiosity. When did you start going to sleep this early? 

Legs parted, eyes looking away, your chest rising up and down as his fingers pressed deep inside of you to rub and prod at whatever he found. He used his other hand to turn your face, your eyes meeting as he whispers a couple of words. A veil is cast over your eyes as he feels you open up like a flower for him. Hips grinding down to meet his fingers, arms opening to welcome him closer, his name falling from your lips making him eager to finally show you how he felt about you.

Grimm opens the door and yawns as he makes his way to the kitchen, licking his lips as he imagined what you had cooked for dinner that night. However, the only thing he finds are three deluxe tuna cans and a note that certainly wasn’t in your handwriting. 

Your hold on him is tight, legs wrapped around his waist as he sinks deeper and deeper into you. Hands in his hair, going up his horns and then traveling down as he bit at the juncture between your neck and your shoulder blade in order to keep himself from pushing all the way inside. But your warmth was calling out to him, inviting him to push deeper and deeper until all you could feel was him and him alone. 

Even with the magic affecting your brain. 

“Don’t feel so good. Going to sleep early.” Grimm sits down on the counter and frowns as he opens one of the cans and starts munching down. 

“Say you love me…” 

You gasp as you feel him push your whole body up with his first thrust, the bed creaking in protest in your ears but no sound being heard outside of your door. 

Were you sick? Grimm takes a giant bite and hums as he thinks. With him being this tired he would immediately go up to the room you two shared together and cuddle himself on your chest but if you were sick…

“I love you! I love you I love you--Malleus--!” 

The sounds were all mixing together. Your moans, his groans, the protests from the bed and the wet slaps of his body meeting yours over and over again. You were so full, all the way up to  your throat that the words he so desperately wanted to hear were spilling out despite you not remembering thinking of them. You were thinking of nothing. Every time you tried to think about what you were doing a sharp pain would stop you, instead keeping you attentive to the pleasure the soon to be ruler of the Valley of Thorns was giving you. 

“You are mine, child of man. Body and soul...all of them mine!”

“Silly human. Getting sick like that. They should be taking care of themselves.” Grimm shakes his head as he keeps on eating the tasty treats you had left behind. If you had left something this good for him, he guessed he could forgive you. 

Your toes curled as you felt something warm gush inside, lips covering your own and drinking up all the sounds you were making. He whispered something into your ear but you couldn’t quite make out what he said. Something about heirs and a kingdom. Was he telling you a story? He pulled away to look into your eyes, your brain moving your hands so that they would cup his cheek. Your comfort seemed to stir something inside him as he brought you closer, your arms now wrapped around him as you rested your forehead on his shoulder. 

Ramshackle stayed silent throughout the night, the moon and stars shining light into each room. 

All except one. 

[bitsandbobsofwriting]

Something in the woods is stealing peoples’ Souls;

Merlin learns the hard way that he's a little more... fragmented, than normal people when he tries to solve the issue himself.

Part 2 (final part)

All of the Physicians in the town are being overrun.

Bodies keep showing up, still breathing, still perfectly functional, all seemingly unharmed... but they won’t wake up.

None of them will even twitch, as if, whilst the physical bodies were in perfect condition, there was something lacking somewhere, stopping any sort of higher brain function.

The King, his Knights, and even the Court Physician and his (newly titled) Co-Worker (as opposed to Apprentice), were baffled.

Medically, they had nothing to go on, all they could do was keep the bodies alive as best they could, and hope that some sort of solution could come about after some good old fashioned detective work.

Thankfully, it only took five days, and twelve comatose patients, for The King’s best Knights to realise that all of the... victims(?) had been found in a specific area of the woods just outside the city limits.

With such a distinct, and unexplainable issue, it was assumed (rightfully) that magic was involved somehow; whether it be some sort of creature, or yet another evil sorcerer hell-bent on revenge.

Which of course led to Merlin, one of the Court Physicians, and also (Secretly)TheMostPowerfulWarlockEver™, putting on his warmest clothes and sneaking out in the dead of night under the worried gaze of Gaius.

He did not come back.

Not that anyone but Gaius knew.

~

Early the next morning, King Arthur gathered his best Knights, Sirs Leon, Lancelot, Gwaine, Percival, and Elyan, to go and hunt down whatever it was that was rendering his people permanently unconscious.

Gaius and Merlin had explained the previous day, when these plans were conceived, that Merlin would have to stay behind; Camelot’s Physicians were so overwhelmed with not only normal patients, but now twelve comatose bodies as well; they needed every pair of hands they could get. For once, Arthur was happy to leave his manservant behind. 

The man cared greatly for his people, and whilst he would love nothing more than to have Merlin at his side all day, every day, he knew that he was safer, and more needed, in the city.

It was meant to just be in case Merlin got injured and had to hide it, but Gaius did well to hide his worry when he waved them off, and didn’t mention that Merlin wasn’t even in the city, that they could be finding Merlin’s comatose body next.

It took the Gang barely half a day to get there, and they had supplies to last them a few days in the woods, if that’s what it came to, but they were all still tense.

They hadn't seen anything like this before. They had no idea what they were up against; there were no physical injuries to assess, no eye-witness accounts, nothing found in their blood or on their person. Just unconscious bodies that showed no sign of waking.

Thankfully, they found no more bodies as they methodically searched the forest, but they also found no sign of what was wrong.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary: nothing attacked them, there was no blood, no destroyed areas, not even a scrap of evidence that something had even happened.

They finally stopped to make camp at sundown, dejected. Their mood definitely worsening with Elyan’s terrible cooking.

Gwaine was, of course, the most talkative:

“I know he’s needed or whatever, but are we sure we can’t go back and get Merlin? I’ve eaten a lot of gross shit over the years, but I’m not sure if I can take this for four more days.”

Elyan grumbles in embarrassment as the others snort, amused, and he throws a twig at Gwaine. It snaps in two across the knight’s face with a satisfying crack.

Arthur ignores the childish behaviour (something he can’t believe he has to do in the first place), shaking his head as he replies:

“No. The health of the people comes before your stomach. If Gaius says he’s needed in the city, then he stays in the city. Though I was surprised that he wasn’t there to wave us off.”

Gwaine smirks knowingly, and Percival puts a warning hand on his shoulder, but it does nothing to deter the knight as he waggles his eyebrows at The King.

Arthur flushes slightly, but he covers it quickly, not having time to retort before Gwaine opens his mouth again:

“Missing him, are you? Perhaps next time you should request that he stand on the battlements in a dress, and wave a handkerchief at us as we heroically ride out?”

Arthur throws a much larger twig (it’s more of a branch, really) in Gwaine’s direction, and this one knocks him off his seat, but before anyone can even snigger at him, Arthur loudly announces the watches and tells everyone to get some sleep.

~

The next day went much the same. 

That is, until late-afternoon.

The Knights were continuing their methodical search of the woods, once again finding themselves somehow tense and bored, when they came across a clearing that had clearly seen a gruesome battle.

Trees were uprooted, the ground was covered in deep holes and scorches, and there were even the occasional splashes of blood.

Which honestly raised more questions that it answered.

After thorough searching, they were hopeful. It looked like it had been some sort of fight between a sorcerer, and something... not human, some sort of creature. BUT, going by the tracks, the sorcerer had survived, and wandered off.

Was the sorcerer injured, or was the creature injured? If the sorcerer had walked off, injured or otherwise, where was the creature? Surely they should find the body of one or the other?

Another question that no one really wanted to ask: was this even related to the bodies?? Or had the Knights just stumbled onto something completely unrelated that they would inevitably get dragged into dealing with anyway?

Either way, they couldn’t ignore it, and with new-found motivation, they followed the tracks deeper into the woods, instead of setting up camp, like they had intended.

Whoever it was seemed to be wandering aimlessly. The blood trail slowly came to a stop, and it seemed that every step was stronger; as if whoever it were was gaining more energy from walking, as opposed to becoming more tired.

Still, whoever they found at the end of the tracks would be able to provide some sort of answer.

Eventually, after around two hours of diligently following the footsteps through the woods, Arthur signalled everyone to stop.

He wordlessly dismounts his horse, and gestures everyone to quietly do the same, before silently pointing ahead.

The knights look carefully to where he gestures, to see a man stood in the centre of a clearing, facing away from them.

They, still silent, draw their swords and sneak closer, but the man doesn’t move, doesn’t even twitch, and if it weren’t for the fact that he was stood upright, they would think him dead.

Arthur steps into the clearing, about twenty feet from the man, and furrows his brow. That looks like.... no... it can’t be, can it? He shakes the thoughts from his head, convinced that he’s just imagining things, but before he can make his presence known, the man turns around, as if he sensed them stood there.

All of them gasp and take a step back, immediately recognising Merlin.

But he’s... different.

He stands scarily still, unusual for a man who was constantly fidgeting or on the move.

His face is blank, and if he hadn’t been staring straight at them they would think he hadn’t noticed them at all, and whilst he stood as if uninjured, his tunic is ripped and blood-soaked.

But what draws everyone’s attention, was the bright golden glow of his eyes, highlighted especially by the quickly descending darkness of the evening.

Arthur brings his sword up slowly, taking a cautious step forward as he calls Merlin’s name.

Merlin simply tilts his head slightly, otherwise staying still, before stutteringly beginning to speak:

“Mer... lin... Merlin....... Merlin is... Merlin is...... Merlin is gone.”

It’s clear that something is deeply wrong with the manservant, but the way he spoke, as if he knew how but had never actually done it before, like he was still figuring it out, creeped the hell out of everyone.

His words as well, “Merlin is gone” do nothing but fill them with dread.

Lancelot steps forward quickly, moving to stand in front of Arthur, sword unsheathed but pointing at the ground. He was unsurprisingly less fearful of the golden irises, and recovered the quickest:

“What do you mean, “Merlin is gone”, gone where? Who are you?”

Merlin... or... not!Merlin, tilts his head further:

“Merlin is... gone. I... I... I want him... back.”

Lancelot gulps but before he can reply, Arthur breaks out of his stupor, and growls:

“What have you done with him?! Whatever you are, give him back!”

Merlin moves his gaze from Lancelot to Arthur, and takes a step forward, before bowing his head slightly, as if out of respect:

“You are... The Once and Future King... I want him back... you... you... you need him... back.”

The rest of the knights are fully freaked out now, but they hide it well, and gather slowly around Arthur. Lancelot scowls at them, holding a placating hand out. He really doesn’t want any of them to get jumpy and skewer Merlin. He takes another step towards the golden-eyed man:

“We all want Merlin back. The bodies, the same thing happened to you? Happened to Merlin?”

Not!Merlin nods slowly once again, looking back to Lancelot:

“It... took him... from me. I... I... I want him back.”

Lancelot returns his nod, letting out a deep breath:

“And who are you? What are you doing in Merlin’s body?”

Not!Merlin frowns slightly, as if confused, the first actual expression he’s pulled this whole time. It takes him a few moments to respond, and Lancelot is getting desperate; he can feel the knights behind him getting more and more jumpy, especially Arthur:

“I am... I... I have always been here... I am... I am... I am me. I am Merlin’s... and he is... mine... I want him... back. He is... mine.”

Lancelot tenses slightly. He has a feeling he knows what’s going on. Merlin talks about his magic sometimes, talks about it as if it’s... sentient. Described the way it’s always desperate to reach out to Arthur and the Knights and Gaius and Gwen, how it sometimes does things without his permission.

Lancelot gulps. This is bad. Merlin’s magic is walking around in his body without him there to control it. They were going to struggle to explain this away, as much as Merlin claimed Arthur was an idiot, it wasn’t completely true. Lancelot bit his lip, glancing back at the others as he re-sheaths his sword.

He knows there’s no way to get them to relax... unless... this might backfire terribly, but it also might be the only way to get them to calm down a little.

Lancelot frowns thoughtfully, and just before Arthur works up the nerve to say something else, he turns back to Not!Merlin:

“Do you mean us any harm?”

Not!Merlin once again tilts his head and frowns as if in confusion:

“No... Merlin is... Merlin is fond of... you. I.. I was made for... for The Once and Future King. I am... unable to hurt him.”

Lancelot nods, before saying slowly:

“Do you have any reason to lie to us?

The golden-eyed man shakes his head slowly, the glow seeming brighter as he replies:

“Why would I... I... lie? I could kill... you without a... second... second thought. I want Merlin... back.”

The knight nods one final time, looking back to the others to gauge their reactions. Their swords are still unsheathed, but lowered, their faces tense and concerned, but not angry. Lancelot supposes that’s the best he’s going to get at this point.

He lets out a rough sigh, running a hand through his hair as he looks back at the Warlock:

“You’re not Merlin. What do we call you, until we can get him back?”

Not!Merlin lets his gaze wonder to the knights, before finally landing on Arthur. His speech had been getting better with use, but he speaks slowly and keeps his stare on The King, as if curious to his reaction:

“I am... I am... I am part of him. I don’t... have a name. Call me... me... Emrys.”

Lancelot grits his teeth, and his eyes whip to Arthur, to see if he recognises the name.

With The King’s gasp, and widening eyes, Lancelot knows that he does recognise the name.

“You... you’re Emrys?? I thought Emrys was some all-powerful sorcerer, what are you doing in Merlin?”

Arthur is too distracted to notice Lancelot’s panic, but Leon, ever the observant one, is not, and frowns at the sudden fear on his fellow knight’s face.

Mer-... Emrys had already admitted that he wouldn’t lie, if Arthur keeps asking questions, he’ll figure it out. But before Lancelot can think of a solution, Emrys replies:

“Emrys is... is... our other... name. But I am not... Merlin. Not on my own. I want... want him back.”

Arthur looks taken aback, but before he can ask another question, Gwaine steps forward, giving Lancelot an unreadable look before:

“Right, well that’s all fine and dandy, but we need to set camp up and figure out what we’re going to do about... this.”

He gestures vaguely to Merlin’s body after sheathing his sword.

Arthur looks about ready to argue, but with another pointed look from Gwaine, Lancelot jumps into action:

“Gwaine’s right, we need to gather the horses and set up for the night. Here is probably alright, then we can come up with a plan to get Merlin back, and presumably, all of those other people.-”

He turns to Arthur, a sufficiently subservient expression on his face:

“-If you think that’s best, Sire?”

Gwaine rolls his eyes and scoffs at that, heading back to gather the horses from where they’d been left without further prompting. Arthur’s argumentative expression drops after a moment, and with one more mistrustful glance to Emrys, he nods, instructing the others to gather wood and get started on dinner.

Lancelot lets out a breath, but flushes slightly and tenses his jaw when he sees Leon giving him an inscrutable look. He turns away after a moment, under the pretence of helping Gwaine.

The moment Lancelot reaches Gwaine, a few metres into the treeline, the other knight quickly turns around and grabs his shoulders. He glances desperately back towards the clearing, and when he establishes that they’re the only two within earshot, roughly whispers:

“Please tell me you figured it out?? Because I’m not sure how the hell I’m going to keep Arthur from finding out on my own.”

Lancelot’s eyes widen, but his shock keeps him silent for only a few moments before Gwaine shakes his shoulders. He blinks away his surprise, whispering his response:

“You know?? Does Merlin know that you know?”

Gwaine shakes his head, finally letting go of Lance’s shoulders:

“No. I worked it out like twenty seconds ago, I’m sort of hoping that Arthur isn’t as quick as me. How long have you known?”

The other knight nods his head understandingly:

“About as long as I’ve known him, but I’ll explain later. This whole thing is... terrible. I don’t think our odds are good. Mer- Emrys won’t lie, and we won’t be able to stop Arthur from asking questions. He’s probably asking them now. We need to get the horses and get back.”

Gwaine nods roughly, and without another word, the two of them gather the reins of their six horses, and quickly make their way back to the clearing.

They had only been gone a few minutes, and in that time, firewood had been gathered and arranged. Elyan pulls a flint out of his pocket, and Lancelot widens his eyes as he sees Emrys tilt his head (still stood in the same place), moments before waving his hand casually.

The wood bursts into a roaring flame, and Emrys suddenly has four swords on him. Lancelot and Gwaine rush forward, standing in between Emrys and the other knights, holding their hands out as if in surrender. Gwaine speaks first:

“Hey! You might be freaked out by all of this, but that’s still Merlin’s body, and he needs it, so lets not poke holes in him, alright??”

Everyone bar Arthur lowers their swords, but before Gwaine can growl something out, Lancelot turns back to Emrys:

“Look, they’re all a little... unnerved, by magic, so maybe stop using it for now, yeah?”

Emrys tilts his head and furrows his brows again, and everyone stares at him in shock as he replies, not quite knowing what to make of his response:

“But I am magic. I am magic... incarnate. If I stop... I... I cease to exist. And Merlin... Merlin needs me. He needs me like... like... like humans need to breath. I can not just... stop. He would... would... we would die.”

Lancelot tightly shuts his eyes. There is officially NO way to explain this one away. Gods, Merlin is going to be so scared when he finds out.

After a few moments of shocked silence, Arthur finally squeaks out a:

“What??”

Gwaine quickly responds, before Emrys can reveal anymore:

“No. It's cruel to take Merlin’s secrets from him when he isn’t even here. We find Merlin, then you can ask your questions.-”

Arthur looks angry, like he wants to argue, but Gwaine takes a threatening step towards him, resting his hand on his sword at his hip as Lancelot and the other knights look on the scene with panic in their eyes. Gwaine growls out:

“-I said no, Princess. Everyone here knows I’m more loyal to Merlin than you, and that doesn’t stop just because he’s not here and you’re about to throw a temper tantrum.”

Arthur huffs, but lowers his sword as Gwaine glares at him, and Lancelot lets out a breath. The other knights follows The King’s lead, sheathing their swords and settling tensely around the fire.

Lancelot goes back to the horses, tying them down and removing saddlebags, with Leon’s help (and constant stare, which was an odd mix of concern and suspicion).

Gwaine points Emrys to a spot on the floor, and tells him to sit. The knight settles next to him protectively, his sword across his lap as he glares at Arthur on the other side of the fire.

The evening passes awkwardly, food being cooked and eaten in silence, no one quite sure what to say.

Arthur spends the whole time with a pinched look of frustration on his face, but the knights look to him as he takes a deep breath, his expression morphing into an odd mix of concern and accusation in the blink of an eye:

“How do we even know that the... Merlin, part of... part of you is alive? What happened to hi- to you? How do we get him back?”

Lancelot wants to be annoyed at his tone, but he poses valid questions. They still had no idea what actually happened or why or how they fixed it.

Emrys tilts his head, aiming his golden stare at Arthur:

“It is one of... of the Manducan, or The Eating Ones. They... are very rare, they steal... steal souls. Bodies can survive a short while.... a short while without them. Hence your... comatose patients. I am... we are, a little more... fragmented... than most. I contain too... too much power, so The Manducan took... only the human... human part.”

Everyone looks extremely worried at that, but Arthur’s face turns desperate as he rushes out:

“What do you mean, human?? What are you??”

They all stare at the raven-haired man as he speaks, his eyes focused on the King:

“We do not... know. Some call us a Lord, or a King. Others call us... call us... a God. In moments... of power, we... we hear prayers. It can be... disconcerting.”

The camp is silent for a while after that, everyone processing what had been said. Merlin heard people praying to him... not even Lancelot knew that, Merlin had never told him.

After around half a candle-mark, Leon breaks the silence to ask the questions that had been pushed to that back of their minds:

“How do we kill this creature, and what happens if we do? Can we get the souls back, undamaged?”

Emrys turns his golden gaze to the curly-haired knight as he replies:

“It is already... weakened. The Forever King needs to... strike... strike it with Excalibur. They hibernate for.... for centuries... and only return to this plane of existence to... collect food. If you... if you... if you kill it before it leaves, the souls will... will return...naturally.”

The knights all let out breaths of relief, but Arthur looks at his sword oddly, before muttering:

“What’s so special about my sword? And why do you keep calling me strange titles?”

Lancelot gulps, and Emrys tilts his head:

“You know of Emrys, but not of the... the prophecies?”

Arthur nods his head slowly, but Lancelot interrupts before Emrys can start the complicated process of explaining his and Arthur’s destinies:

“Perhaps that’s a... story, for when we have Merlin back in one piece. How do we track the creature?”

Arthur gives him a glare, before lowly saying:

“Do not think I do not notice you avoiding the subject, Sir Lancelot. You know of these prophecies?”

Lancelot grits his teeth, but gives a slow nod:

“Bits and pieces. Merlin isn’t fond of talking about it.-”

He raises a challenging eyebrow, still staring Arthur in the face, and everyone is take aback. Lancelot was never anything but respectful and polite to his King; this defiant look shocked them all:

“-You see, he’s spent his entire life in Camelot absolutely terrified that someone will overhear him, and have him burnt.”

Arthur took in a deep breath, hiding his guilt behind a blank façade, but before anyone can say anything, their gazes are drawn back to Emrys, who looks almost... mournful?

He nods his head slightly, and the sad look on his... on Merlin’s face, looks so out of place for someone so normally upbeat:

“He is... we, are constantly frightened. It is exhausting. I try to... to reassure us but... Merlin is... is... is always so scared, despite our power. We used to... to love flames, fire. Now it is... terrifying to us.”

Lancelot had kept his gaze on Arthur, and when The King looks back at him, his despair badly hidden, the knight simply shrugs one shoulder and nods slightly.

Arthur lets out a breath, and looks to his lap, whispering so quietly that the group barely hears him:

“He’s scared of... of me.”

Gwaine growls out an “Of course he is, you’re a Pen-.”, but he’s interrupted by Emrys:

“No. He would allow you to... to kill us. But we couldn’t bear to... to lose you.-”

He finishes his statement quietly, and Arthur looks up at him, tears in his eyes:

“-We don’t want to be sent away. Camelot is... is... is frightening. But it is also our... home.”

“I would never send you away. When we get Merlin back, you... you tell him that. Tell him he’s safe with me, with us, and always will be.”

Emrys tilts his head yet again:

“And my people? Will we be an... exception? Will you make us watch you... continue to persecute our people, whom we... we... we should be protecting? Merlin does... does not want to make a... hypocrite out of you.”

The knights look at him expectantly, and he blanches slightly as he looks away. The King gulps, before taking a deep breath and looking back, straightening his spine and looking confident:

“The laws will change. Crimes committed with magic will be judged the same as crimes committed without; it’s about time I faced the cruelties of my father.”

The corner of Emrys’ mouth tilts up briefly as he nods, but says nothing. Gwaine smirks, Leon and Lancelot give The King proud smiles, and Percival and Elyan look taken aback, before they relax into fond smiles of their own.

The evening had passed quickly, and with all of them exhausted, it’s decided that any further discussion on how to track this... Manducan, would happen in the morning.

All of the knights fall asleep quickly, finding the protective golden glow of Emrys’ unsleeping eyes both comforting and unsettling.

~

They all woke the next morning oddly refreshed, but the relaxed atmosphere didn’t last long when, one by one, the knights noticed Emrys sat unnervingly still, in the exact same spot as last night.

Only the occasional blink and shallow breathing proved that he was in fact alive, and not some sort of incredibly life-like statue.

Food was eaten, and camp broken quickly; the golden eyed not-quite-a-servant staying in his spot the whole time. 

Despite Emrys saying that the souls would be fine as long as they got there in time, they were still full of nervous energy, and wanted to get this over and done with as soon as possible. Not least of all because they had a lot, and I mean a LOT, of questions for Merlin... or... all of Merlin.

Emrys was pointed to Lancelot’s horse, and once he mounted in front of the knight, everyone looked at him expectantly. He simply tilted his head, and Arthur huffed:

“Well? How do we find this... creature? Can’t you-”

He waves his hand vaguely, and Leon is the only knight able to hide his snort at The King’s impression of magic.

Emrys nods in understanding, and extends his hand in front of him. A thin stream of light, like a glowing string floating in the air, extends from his palm, snaking through the trees.

He nods, this time in the direction of the light, and the knights urge their horses to begin a quick paced journey.

Conversation is sparse, but eventually the question on all of their minds is asked by Percival:

“If you could do that the whole time, track the Manducan I mean, why didn’t you?”

Emrys doesn’t look towards him, but the horses noticeably slow as everyone bunches together, curious about his answer:

“They are of a different... different plane. Magic can harm them but... but... but not kill. I was waiting for The Once and Future King to bring... bring Excalibur.”

Percival nods in understanding, but Leon frowns:

“Well... what about us? Will we not be able to harm it with our swords?”

Everyone copies his frown at that. They’re valid questions, and Arthur is silently grateful that Leon had the tactical mind to think of them:

“No. It will be safer for... for... for you to... wait. I can distract and injure it further until... The Once and Future King can... kill it.”

The knights looks worried at that, but Elyan is the first one to pipe up:

“We’re meant to just stand back and watch? Can’t we set a trap, or help distract it?”

Emrys shakes his head:

“It can not be trapped. Being too close would... would have adverse effects on... on... on your souls.”

Arthur looks back from his position at the head of the group with a frown on his face:

“Well what about my soul? I’m presumably going to have to get close to it in order to stab it?”

Emrys fixes his golden stare on The King, and tilts his head slightly in confusion:

“Your soul was forged through magic, it is marginally... immune. It will take a little... longer for... for... for your soul to react badly.”

Arthur nods, looking back to the front, muttering something about “having a time limit before my soul implodes or whatever. Great.”

Once the knights finish snickering at Arthur, Gwaine asks:

“Wait wait, if Excalibur is the only thing able to kill it, what are you doing out here?”

Emrys tilts his head, looking back to the knights:

“We were... unaware of that at the... the time. We only figured out what... it was, when we fought it.”

Everyone nods, all of them wondering just how many times Merlin had snuck out to take care of something, with none of them knowing about it. The list of questions they had for when Merlin was back in one piece was getting longer and longer, and no part of this conversation was helping the anxiety swirling in Lancelot’s stomach.

After another hour or so of silence, Elyan pipes up:

“I’m surprised no one has asked yet but... what does this thing look like? I know we’re following a trail or whatever, but what are we actually going to find at the end of it?”

“They shift sizes, though they always take... the form of a thick-”

Emrys is interrupted by Arthur pulling his horse to a sudden stop, and pointing through the trees ahead of his, harshly whispering:

“Black shadow??”

Everyone stops behind him and their gazes dart quickly to where Arthur gestures. Through the trees they see a large mass of deep black smoke.

The black tendrils seem to writhe in the air, and the knights can see vague impressions of limbs tipped with impossibly sharp claws darting out occasionally before retreating back into the fog.

The creature looks like evil in semi-corporeal form, and the usually strong-willed warriors take in stuttering breaths at the overwhelming instincts of “Unnatural, run run RUN!” screaming at them with every passing second.

The shadow doesn’t seem to have any front or back; being in a constantly shifting state, sometimes seeming to freeze, sometimes darting through the trees in a blur.

The knights have lost all colour in their faces, and their breath comes shallowly and quickly. Arthur gulps, tightening his grip on his sword as he whispers:

“Horse, or on foot?”

The sound of Emrys’ feet softly thudding on the undergrowth gives The King his answer, and he dismounts his horse slowly, trying to stop the shaking in his hands and legs.

He takes a deep breath as Emrys moves to stand behind him. His voice is shaking and desperate, as if he were a child reaching for help after a nightmare:

“How do I... what do I do, Merlin?”

Emrys tilts his head, but doesn’t say anything of the The King’s mistake:

“You need only get close enough to... deeply slice it. It is fragile in this... this realm. Cover your eyes when you... you do so, the light will be blinding. Do not let it... touch you. I am reluctant to admit that, after what it did to... to... to our soul, I do not know what it will... do to yours.”

Arthur takes another deep breath, and clears his throat slightly as he gives a firm nod. Time to be brave now, for his people, for Merlin.

The King can hear his knights dismount behind him and tie up the horses, ready to jump in and help at a moment’s notice, in spite of... whatever will happen to their souls. None of them are really sure they want to know, so none of them ask for details, and Arthur is unendingly grateful for their silent loyalty and bravery.

Emrys walks forward, past Arthur, and towards the creature. The King gulps before silently slipping off to the side; he doesn’t know how the creature sees (not having a head, or even eyes, as far as he can tell), but Emrys said he would distract it so... splitting up makes the most sense? 

The knights can tell the exact moment the creature notices Emrys walking towards it.

The tendrils of shadow seem to writhe even more frantically, and the fog bulges and retreats again, somehow giving the impression of anger, fear.

Emrys plants his feet strongly and raises a hand, summoning vines and roots from the ground with nought but a gesture; Arthur only gives himself a second to be distracted by the sight of Merlin so effortlessly doing magic before focussing back on the creature.

Everyone bar Emrys winces, and covers their ears as the beast lets out an ear piercing screech, moving judderingly towards the Warlock. The trees shake with the noise, and a few of Emrys’ magical attacks disintegrate into the air. He summons more, and snarls in concentration as the beast whips towards him.

Emrys rushes forward to meet the beast, and they clash in a burst of golden light and black shadow, each trying to take over the other. The shadows try to sneak around the Warlock, reaching towards the knights behind him, but they’re quickly halted in their tracks as cracks open in the ground, swallowing the fog before it can do any damage.

The golden light emanating from Emrys pulses brightly, and the creature is pushed back, the edges of its smoke disintegrating slowly into the air. It lets out another high pitched screech, and Arthur takes that as his cue; rushing silently forward, on the opposite side of the creature to Emrys, and swiping down precisely with Excalibur.

The knights see his attack coming, and step even further back, heeding Emrys’ warning and covering their eyes, Arthur doing so with his free hand as he brings the sword down. 

Excalibur cuts through the shadow with no resistance; the screech getting impossibly louder as the blade leaves a blindingly golden trail in it’s wake.

Emrys simply stands back to watch, but the pitch of the beast’s screech forces the knights to the floor, eyes tightly shut, and hands clamped over their ears.

Suddenly, the noise stops, and the shadows of the creature seem to disintegrate into nothing as the golden light of the wound takes over. The light recedes in on itself, before exploding outwards and fragmenting into pieces. The bulk of the fragments fly in the direction of Camelot, golden blurs through the trees, but one, the smallest and dullest (due to being only part of a soul, they assume) flies with speed straight towards Emrys.

The knights and their King finally look up, feeling oddly exhausted, to see Emrys take a staggered step back and grimace in pain as the light forces it’s way down his throat.

He falls to the floor, and the knights rush towards him as his muscles spasm and he begins to scream. His eyes are shut tightly and Lancelot quickly lunges forward to grab his wrists as his hands go to yank at his hair.

Everyone gathers around him, Lancelot yelling for them to hold him so he doesn’t hurt himself. They can only hope that Merlin is an exception, and this isn’t happening to the other victims back in Camelot. Lancelot keeps a hold of his wrists, and Arthur discards Excalibur in favour of holding down Merlin’s shoulders, whilst Elyan, Leon, and Gwaine hold down his hips and legs, and Percival wordlessly stands guard.

Merlin’s screaming dies down, and he stops thrashing so much (but stays tense), but the knights don’t let go just yet. He opens his bleary eyes, and whispers, so faintly they barely hear it:

“... Lance?”

The knight lets go of Merlin’s now limp wrists gently, and strokes a hand through the man’s raven hair:

“Yeah, I’m here Merlin. All back in once piece?

Merlin closes his eyes again, and goes fully slack as the others let go of him fully, nodding slowly as he gulps before groaning:

“Yeah, that fucking... hurt.”

Lancelot huffs out a gentle laugh, but before he can reply, Merlin gasps and quickly sits up. When his wide, panicked eyes land on the rest of the knights huddled around him, his breath deepens and he scrambles back frantically, only to run into Arthur, who grabs his shoulders.

Merlin whips his head around and rips himself from The King’s grip, stumbling to his feet and rushing back, away from the knights and into a tree.

His ears are deaf to everyone’s gentle reassurances that he was safe, and his eyes are blind to the hands held up in soft surrender. He sinks to the floor as his breathing gets even more frenzied and tears gather in his eyes, but before he can process that he was safe, the mix of memories triggers a blinding pain behind his eyes.

He gives a pained yelp and shuts his eyes tightly, bringing his hands to grip the sides of his head as he curls up on the floor. Merlin begins to groan again, and Lancelot desperately gestures for everyone to stay back as he kneels by Merlin’s side, pulling his hands away from his head again:

“You’re safe Merlin, no one’s going to hurt you, do you remember? We said that to the bit of you that was left.-”

Merlin doesn’t seem to hear him, but squeezes Lancelot’s hands painfully tight as he continues to groan, arching his spine:

“-Ok, ok, what’s wrong Merlin? Your head? We can’t help you if we don’t know what’s wrong. Is it your... your soul?”

Merlin shakes his head slightly, groaning dying down, but still struggling to draw breath, still gripping Lance’s hands:

“Your magic?”

Another shake of the head has Lancelot beginning to panic a little; none of them have dealt with anything like this before, and he doesn’t know what’s wrong with his friend. He continues to try and comfort Merlin as he struggles to think of what else it could be, when Merlin begins forcing himself to take deep breaths, and stuttering out:

“Mem... memories.”

Lancelot takes a fortifying breath, and the others crowd a little closer, panicking for their friend:

“Memories? Ok, which ones? Memories from the bit of you that was wandering around, or memories from the bit of you that was in the creature?”

Thankfully, Merlin’s pain seems to be dying down slightly. His breath comes easier, but his eyes stay tightly shut and his muscles still spasm periodically as he grinds out:

“Both. Two sets of memories from... from the same time. Hurts. My. Brain.”

Lancelot huffs out another gentle laugh, rubbing his thumbs softly over the back of Merlin’s hands, and the others relax at the sight of Merlin’s pain lessening. Gwaine kneels down next to Lancelot, and quietly announces himself before beginning to run a gentle hand through Merlin’s hair.

This goes on for a few more minutes; the servant’s pain dwindling and his breathing evening out as his mind sorts the two sets of clashing memories and stitches the two pieces of his soul back together, Lancelot and Gwaine not stopping their soft ministrations for even a moment.

He finally relaxes fully, opening his eyes but not moving from his position on the floor as he gazes tiredly up at Arthur’s worried face, over Lancelot’s shoulder. His words comes out timidly, and Arthur has to stop himself flinching at the hint of fear in his voice:

“Did you mean it? Am I... safe?”

Arthur forces a soft smile on his face, hiding his worry, and gives Merlin a firm nod:

“I promise Merlin, you’re safe. None of us will hurt you.-”

Merlin smiles back at him, before nodding, and closing his eyes, drained from the ordeals of the last few days:

“-though you need to make sure your head is on straight at your earliest convenience, I’ll need your help to write that repeal.”

Arthur says it with a weak, teary grin, and Merlin chuckles slightly, nodding softly once more before drifting into a deep sleep, exhausted.

Lancelot mutters that he’s asleep, and the smile drops from Arthur’s face, his brow furrowing in worry as he crouches between his two knights, putting a hand to Merlin’s forehead:

“Will he be alright?”

Lancelot shrugs, biting his lip, and sporting a similar expression to The King as he replies:

“I’ve no clue. His soul was split in two, his magic was pushed to the limit in that fight, and his body didn’t rest at all or eat much for at least a day; he’s probably just exhausted, but we should get him back to Gaius.”

Elyan, Leon, and Percival move back to gather the horses without prompting, and within minutes the gang is racing back towards the city, Merlin’s unconscious form being held protectively in front of Arthur (his excuse being that Lancelot’s horse had already held the extra weight for half a day, and he’s The King, so he can do what he wants).

~

Thankfully, the creature had been between their camp and the city, so it only takes them around a day to get back. They took few breaks, and ate whilst they rode to save time. Despite not waking up the entire journey, Merlin’s breathing stayed alright, and he occasionally mumbled nonsense to himself, so the knights weren’t panicking too much.

They didn’t stop when night fell, and so finally pulled into the castle courtyard at around midnight. A guard was immediately sent to wake Gaius, and Percival wordlessly took Merlin from Arthur’s horse, only after The King had given him a short nod of approvable.

They got to the Physician’s chambers to see Gaius wide awake and bustling around the room, clearing a cot and gathering various potions and ingredients.

Percival gently set the manservant on the cot, and Gaius firmly demands that they all leave the room to give him space to work, choosing to ignore the fact that he had told them that Merlin was in the city, and that they definitely shouldn’t have come back with his exhausted, unconscious body.

Arthur notes that Gaius doesn’t react at all when Lancelot stays behind, but has to temper his frustration (and jealousy) when the Physician shoots the knight a concerned look when Arthur himself also refuses to leave.

Lancelot sighs, but gives Gaius a reassuring smile:

“It’s fine, Gaius, they all know about Merlin’s magic, he’s safe. We said we’d explain when we got Merlin back in one piece.”

Gaius sends The King a curious look, hiding his concern well before he seems to catch up on what Lancelot said:

“Back in one piece?”

Arthur moves closer as Lancelot nods and begins to speak, content to let the knight explain as long as he got to stand near Merlin:

“He said it was Manducan?-”

Gaius widens his eyes in surprise, but nods, continuing to mix together various herbs as he listens:

“-Apparently, Merlin’s power was too much for it to handle, so it took the non-magical part of his soul. We found Merlin’s body being controlled by his magic. It was... odd. He was still Merlin, you could hear it in the way he spoke, or the words he chose, but it wasn’t... all of him. Just the magic part. He wouldn’t lie to us, and was desperate to get the “Merlin” part of his soul back. Unless we spoke to him he just... sat there, blankly.”

Gaius hums thoughtfully, and he and Lancelot politely pretend not to notice Arthur reaching out to gently grab Merlin’s hand.

Finally, the physician finishes mixing his potion, and gently pours it into Merlin’s mouth, holding his nose shut and massaging his throat so it goes down properly. He sits back on his chair, glancing at Arthur quickly, before looking back to Lancelot:

“The other victims began to wake just under a day ago, so I’m assuming that the creature was... dealt with?-”

At Lancelot’s nod, he continues:

“-Did Merlin wake at all when his soul came together?”

Lancelot nods again, speaking quietly, feeling oddly like he doesn’t want to disturb Arthur softly rubbing his thumb over Merlin’s hand:

“Hmm. Briefly. He screamed for a while, whilst his soul... I don’t know, stitched itself back together? Then he panicked, because he knew his magic had been outed, then he was in pain again. He said having two sets of memories from the same time hurt. Then he was just exhausted, he passed out a few moments after the pain stopped.”

Gaius nods, and Arthur finally looks up, knowing that the explanation was over, and a conversation was about to happen. The Physician speaks:

“Humans are not made for that, it would have been painful for his mind to try to comprehend and organise two separate sets of simultaneous memories.”

Arthur speaks, his voice quiet, but obviously worried:

“Will he be alright? How long until he wakes?”

Gaius looks to him once more, giving The King an assessing gaze. When he spies no anger or deception in Arthur’s face, he relaxes his shoulders slightly, and sighs:

“He will be alright, he just needs rest. Both his body and his soul have been through a great deal, it will take a few days to a week for him to fully recover physically, though I can’t speak for his mental state.”

Arthur looks panicked, and Lancelot worries his lip between his teeth as Arthur asks:

“His mental state??”

Gaius finds himself sighing yet again as he asks:

“How lucid was he, between the bouts of pain?”

Lancelot rushes to answer:

“Very. He understood what I was saying, I think, he asked a question and understood our answer. He just seemed tired.”

Gaius gives the two men an exhausted smile, before softly saying:

“Then I imagine he will be fine. Go and get some rest, I will send for you if anything changes, though it’s unlikely that he’ll wake up at any point in the next two days or so.”

Lancelot nods, and moves towards the door, but Arthur stays put. Gaius raises an eyebrow, but moves forward and puts a comforting hand on his shoulder:

“He will be fine, Sire. And... everything he has done, every lie he has told, has been to keep you safe. He couldn’t bare to lose you.”

Arthur nods absentmindedly, before looking up to the Physician, and whispering:

“I couldn’t bare to lose him either. You... you promise he’ll be alright?”

Gaius nods and smiles, noting with relief the tearful desperation on The King’s face:

“I promise.”

Lancelot smiles fondly from his place stood at the door, but wipes it from his face as Arthur turns towards him. The two men leave out of the room, Gaius’ assessing eyes following them all the way.

The door shuts behind them softly, and Gaius lets out a breath he hadn’t even realised he had been holding, before running a hand gently through Merlin’s hair, and moving to settle in his own cot.

Of all the ways Arthur could find out about Merlin’s magic, out of Merlin’s control, Gaius never saw this coming, and though the pain Merlin felt was regretful, The Physician is grateful, that it went so well.

~

End of Part 1!!

Part two is already almost finished. It’s much shorter than this, and will be out at some point in the next few days!! Sorry this took so long lads, I’ve been really busy atm.

EDIT: I’ve actually just finished writing part 2!! It’s queued to be published at 12:30PM GMT tomorrow (09/05/21)

EDIT 2.0: PART 2 IS UP!!

Also I couldn’t find any mythical creatures that fit what I wanted, so I straight up just made one up ✌️

Head over to This List to let me know what you want me to work on next! :)

[wolferine]

Heart Skips a Beat - Part 3

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: Natasha faces her worst nightmare when a rescue mission goes wrong…

Warnings: Violence, blood

Word Count: 2065

Part 2

Tags: @blkmxrvel @blackxwidowsxwife @marvelwomen-simp @phoenixofash @marvels-bitch-boy @when-wolves-howl

Despite your super soldier enhancements, it takes a few days before you’re cleared from the medical bay. The bullets you had been shot with were identified as hollow point sniper rounds—basically the biggest, baddest of the bunch. If you had been a normal human, your insides would’ve been shredded to pieces and you would’ve died before you even hit the ground.

You’re retired to light duty while you recover, which is painfully boring and dull. You attend physical therapy to strengthen your body, but sometimes you push yourself too hard and stumble back to your and Natasha’s room with blood staining through your bandages. She always chastises you for hurting yourself, but secretly admires your dedication and will never pass up the opportunity to help take care of you.

One week after the condominium collapse, you join Steve, Clint, and Natasha for a private meeting with members of the Miami Police Department and the FBI. As Steve had suspected, the collapse wasn’t an accident. Someone had deliberately taken out the concrete supports in the parking garage with explosives.

“We couldn’t have just phoned that in?” you whine from the backseat. Clint is in the driver’s seat, Steve next to him. You and Natasha sit in the back. “I mean, they drag us all the way across the city, just to tell us something they could’ve sent over text—” 

“Information like that, the less people to intercept the message, the better,” Steve mutters, staring out the window as the car zooms down the highway.

“I don’t know about that,” you dismiss, and Natasha side-eyes you. She knows you’re just cranky because Steve interrupted your morning cuddle with her. There isn’t much you can do intimately when you can barely twist your torso, so you have to make due with what you can.

“You know, Y/N, you are the one this guy’s after,” Clint points out. “So, if anything, you’re the only one that needed to show up.”

“Oh, please.” You roll your eyes. “You’re just jealous you don’t have a psychopath coming after you—” 

THUD.

Everyone’s head turns to the roof of the car. You swear you see the imprint of a hand dented in the metal.

“What the—”

Natasha suddenly leaps out of her seat and into your lap. She wraps her arms around your neck, yanking your head down.

“Hey!” you shout in protest, but then you hear a bullet whiz behind your head and feel the foam of the headrest cushion spray the back of your neck. Still in your lap, Natasha kicks Steve’s shoulder, causing him to hit his head against the window before a bullet zings through his headrest. Following her example, you kick Clint’s seat and he jolts forward, the bullet missing his head by inches.

“Stop the car!” Steve yells, crunching the gear shift into park.

The tires burn rubber and the car slides back and forth before coming to a grinding halt. Cars behind you honk and swerve around you. A figure goes flying off the roof of the car and lands in the road, rolling to their feet. They wear a black vest, revealing their left arm to be completely made out of metal overlapping plates. Their hair is chin-length and a mask covers the lower half of their face.

Suddenly, an 18-wheeler semi-truck, unable to stop in time, slams into the back of the car. The trunk crumples like an accordion, and you instinctively tighten your grip around Natasha to shield her in case the semi-truck tears the car in half. But it doesn’t, instead pushing your car towards the masked figure, who doesn’t even bother to step out of your path.

They jump onto the hood and punch their metal arm through the windshield, grabbing the steering wheel and tearing it right out of the car. When the masked figure disappears onto the roof, Natasha takes out her gun and starts shooting, but her efforts are fruitless.

There’s no way for Clint to control the direction of the car anymore and it’s too dangerous to stay inside with the masked figure close by.

“Hang on!” Steve says, reaching across the front to grab Clint. In the same motion, he slams his shoulder into his door, knocking it off its hinges. Both men go flying out of the car.

“That looks like a good idea,” you mumble, anchoring your arm to your own car door, the other pressing Natasha against you as tightly as you can. “Hold on, babe.” You ram your shoulder into the door with all your strength, ignoring the pain that rips through your stomach.

The door tears away from the car and turns into a makeshift sled as you go skidding down the highway. Sparks fly from the grinding contact of metal on the concrete road. When you finally come to a stop, Natasha stays on top of you, drawing her weapon and scanning for the masked figure. 

Meanwhile, the masked figure has hijacked the semi-truck, but instead of plowing you over, they turn to tip the entire vehicle over so it blocks every single lane of the highway.

“Where are they?” you pant, trying to lift your head to see the commotion but Natasha forces your head back into the car door. “Nat, stop—” 

“No!” she says. “They’re after you, remember?”

You don’t like the idea of her risking herself for you, but it’s a sweet gesture.

“Where are they?” you ask, unable to see.

“I…I don’t…” Natasha sounds confused. Suddenly, she takes off without warning. You don’t question it and run after her. Steve and Clint are engaged in an intense hand-to-hand match with the masked figure. The masked figure knocks Steve to the ground and wraps their metal hand around Clint’s neck, lifting him off the ground.

You put on a burst of speed, overtaking Natasha and launching yourself at the masked figure’s metal arm. They drop Clint instantly and you wrap your arms around the metal one, but it’s like trying to contain a bucking bull. You jerk your elbow back into their face to stun them, but it has no effect. The masked figure flings out their metal arm and you lose your grip.

You crash into the concrete highway dividers and the impact almost knocks you out. You feel your stitches tear open and you start bleeding underneath your shirt. As you stagger to your feet, you see the masked figure over Natasha, pinning her down and pulling their metal arm back, ready to deal the killing blow—

“No!” you scream, charging towards them. You catch the masked figure’s metal arm again, locking out their elbow and holding it against your chest. Natasha rolls out of harm’s way and Clint jumps into the action, launching himself at the masked figure’s legs and sending all three of you to the ground.

Natasha swings her leg around and kicks the masked figure in the face. The mask falls off. You and Clint struggle to hold them down as Steve walks up, blood dripping from a cut in his forehead.

“Bucky?” Steve says suddenly, stopping in his tracks. 

“Who the hell is Bucky?” the man snarls.

“Help!” you choke, not sure how much longer you can hold on to his writhing metal arm. But Steve is frozen the same way Natasha had been when she saw you get shot. “You need to get in here, Steve!” you yell, and suddenly Bucky goes limp. You and Clint exchange confused glances.

“Wait, what?” Clint says.

“What happened?” you ask, hesitantly releasing the metal arm, which flops to the ground. “Why’d he just stop like that? Did I say his safe word or something?”

“What, ‘Steve?’” Clint laughs in spite of the tense situation.

“Apparently.”

Steve is in too much shock to bite back at your jibe.

“I’ll call for reinforcements.” Natasha takes charge. “We’ll bring him back to the Tower.” She comes over to you and touches your side gently, reminding you of the blood staining through your shirt.

“I’m fine,” you assure her, reaching out to run your thumb over the bruise forming under her eye. She closes her eyes and leans into your touch. “Let’s hope that Steve is, too.”

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

Bucky is detained in the holding cell at the Tower and Steve goes to speak with him privately. Afterwards, he regroups with the rest of you. Clint relaxes at the kitchen counter with a beer, while you and Natasha sit on the couch together. She holds an ice pack against your stomach and frets over the fresh swelling in your shoulder.

“So, I’ve got some good and bad news,” Steve says.

“You can start by telling us who that guy is,” Clint interrupts.

Steve shifts uncomfortably. “He’s…an old friend of mine. My best friend, actually—”

“You know, that’s the same thing people thought about me and Nat at first, but obviously we’re more than that—” you start.

“Bucky was also involved in the super soldier program,” Steve continues, ignoring your comment. “But he was under HYDRA’s control for decades. They were the ones who sent him after us. And…” Steve takes a breath, “We were wrong about who his target was. He wasn’t after you, Y/N. He was after me.”

“But he shot Y/N,” Natasha says.

“Twice,” you add.

“No.” Steve shakes his head. “Bucky was trying to shoot me. Y/N was just in the way.”

“In the way?” Steve’s logic—or lack of it—makes your head hurt. But as Natasha thinks about it—she’s always been the smarter one in the relationship—it makes complete sense. Her mind flashbacks to the scene of the condominium collapse, where all four of you had gathered on the street after you rescued the last victim. Her and Steve stood across from you and Clint. The bullets had come from behind you—if you hadn’t been standing where you were, Steve would have been hit instead.

“I don’t think you would remember this part, Y/N, but when Nat and I were trying to get you in the ambulance, we were shot at two more times,” Steve explained. “But the bullets hit the sideview mirror and the windshield. Those were places I was in, not you.”

“Okay, so why’s he trying to kill you if you’re his best friend?” you ask.

“It’s all HYDRA’s doing. He told me he’s part of a task force that was created to kill off the Avengers. Specifically, the original six, so there’s six of them in the task force. He’s the only one that got out, and he said the other five are being held in a facility in Siberia. He wants our help to free them,” Steve says.

“So, this Bucky guy wants to work with us now? After he took down a 12-story condominium and almost killed Y/N while trying to kill you?” Clint asks.

“Please, Clint,” Steve begs. “Bucky’s my best friend—”

“A best friend who tried to kill Y/N! And you!” Natasha argues. She lowers the ice pack from your stomach and you frown at the loss of contact. “You know I love you, Steve—”

“Not as much as me,” you mutter under your breath, guiding her hand to put the ice pack back against your side.

“—But I’m gonna need you to do a little better than that.”

“I need you all to trust me,” Steve pleads. “If we have intel telling us that there are five super soldiers in existence, who are programmed to take down the Avengers, isn’t it on us to do something about it?”

“How do we know we can trust Bucky?” Clint asks.

“Well, if he does go rogue, at least we know his safe word,” you answer with a chuckle.

“If you trust me, you’ll trust him,” Steve promises.

You glance at Natasha, who is looking at the floor, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration. You stretch your arm over her shoulder, pulling her towards you and bumping your heads together.

“What should we do?” you whisper so quietly only she can hear.

Her free arm snakes around your waist, closing the gap between you and her, your bodies fitting together like puzzle pieces. She rests her head against your shoulder. “Trust Steve,” she says.

“Okay.” That’s enough of an answer for you. You press a soft kiss to her temple and look back at Steve. “So, what did you have in mind?”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Click here for Part 4!

AN: I love taking inspiration from many places, and the inspiration for this part is the awesome fight on the highway from Captain America: Winter Soldier. Thank you to everyone for the continued support!

[selfawarejester]

So, someone requested a fic where Blue Team rescues a Child!Reader from a war zone, but unfortunately Tumblr ate the ask. If you’re the one who requested it, please enjoy!

EDIT: found a screenshot! @simp-for-fictional-men-only, hope you like this!

Blue Team x Child!Reader (Halo)

It’s been a long “day”, even by Spartan standards.

Blue Team had been trying to repel Covenant forces on an Outer Colonies planet for over a week… but it hadn’t been enough. Command had called an evacuation, and after destroying a base to help the efforts, Blue Team had been ordered to help with final evacuation calls in the nearest town.

On the Pelican ride to town, there was a brief moment where they thought it was a waste of resources to send Spartans for an evacuation op, especially because the other Spartan teams were still doing the best they could to strike back at the Covenant; not necessarily to stop them anymore, just to hold them back long enough for the civilians to escape and maybe a little revenge. The events of the week, coupled with the guilt of their brothers and sisters still risking their lives, weighed on them heavily.

But at the end of the day, they’re glad they did: they found a group in the Rec center, a dozen people in the boroughs, twenty in an apartment complex — the Marines wouldn’t have been able to lift most of the wreckage that blocked them from escaping.

By the time they’d gotten to the outskirts of town, Blue Team had been left alone to sweep through the dead town. Chief considered just going to meet up with the Marines — surely, they could match the pace of the overloaded Troop Transports — and this area was just dilapidated factories and shady looking establishments that had long since been stampeded.

But a need to fulfil his task to completion stayed his hand… and thank god it did.

At first, it was just soft sniffles that sounded from the inside of the rundown factory. Chief and Kelly, who’d partnered up to search this side of the district, thought it was one of the many Jackals that had been posted in the previous sector wandering, or a Grunt that had been left behind after the Jackals had entertained themselves (in which case, they should probably put the thing out of its misery), so they go inside.

Chief goes first, moving carefully through the debris so as to not dislodge the wreckage, or disturb the corpses of the few soldiers and more civilians. He retrieves their dog tags, securing them in one of the compartments of the MJOLNIR, and Kelly follows, stepping where he does.

Slowly, the sound becomes louder and louder, wheezing and snotty sobbing. Definitely an injured Grunt, he thinks. It’s coming from under a slab of concrete propped up against a wall. Kelly flanks to the right, while Chief goes to the left. He signals that he’ll lift it on the count of three, and grips the edge of the slab. When the slab gets tossed aside, Kelly raises her shotgun, pointing directly at the small figure.

You shriek and bury your head in your knees, pulled up to your chest. You couldn’t believe that after all the gross, awful things you’d had to sit through, holed up in this corner, you were just going to die.

But when nothing happens for a solid five seconds, you chance a peek over your knees and gasp. S-117 and S-087 are emblazoned across the chests of the armored giants… Spartans.

Kelly and Chief exchange confused gazes, having no idea how to deal with children. The last ones they’d had any interaction with was the Castoffs on Netherop, but they were more feral gremlins than they had been children.

(Kelly and Fred still aren’t entirely sure that the whole incident wasn’t a heat-induced hallucination.)

John really doesn’t want to go through another episode like it, but on the other hand, it would be easier if you were pelting rocks at them.

Kelly, being the more personable of the two, kneels to your height (or as close as a Spartan could get) and softly calls. “You don’t have to be scared. We’re here to help.”

You knew that — they were Spartans! The greatest heroes Humanity ever possessed! You were just shocked that you were getting rescued by them.

“Y-you’re Spartans.” You whisper dumbly, but you couldn’t help it! How are you supposed to be cool when you grew up with Master Chief’s action figure on your nightstand. “Like Master Chief.”

You can’t see it, but John can sense Kelly’s smirk as she looks over at him and points. “Well, that’s the man himself.”

* Oh no. By the way your wet, moved eyes stare up at him, it seems you’re a fan.

OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD!!! You hope your pterodactyl screeching wasn’t external.

“Whoa.” This couldn’t be real. You’d passed out from exhaustion, and were dreaming all of this. That could be the only possibility!

John knows that this is the part where he says something witty or inspiring… but he really doesn’t know what to say, so he just awkwardly clears his throat. “Are you hurt?”

You shake your head violently, a burning need to not disappoint your childhood hero, and clamber up to your feet… only to wince and lean against the wall, something sticky on your leg.

Now that you’re standing, he can see the dried blood around your ankle. “Hold still!” All the softness is gone from Kelly’s tone as she works on bandaging you up, but you don’t mind, appreciating how careful she’s being.

Co-ordinating with Linda, who informs him that there are patrols scouting the areas — probably only to get any survivors, and not to catch them, but they should still move — and Fred, who tells him that the convoy is flying off-planet via Pelicans in half an hour, John makes some quick calculations.

With the pace you’d set, hobbling alongside Kelly, whimpering every time you put your weight on your left foot, it would take them at least an hour. Too long.

“Whoa…” The sound comes unbidden from Fred when Kelly emerges, with you clutching at her hip, all bloody and dirty. A pang of sympathy strikes as he looks around and realizes all that you must have seen. He was well aware that normal children weren’t nearly as resilient as he and his siblings had been.

“….” He stays silent as you arrive in front of him, staring up at him with slight apprehension, heart racing as he tries to think of something to say — and for some reason, he lands on an awkward, weirdly Southern-sounding. “Hey champ!”

John and Kelly both shoot him weird looks, and he wants to dig a hole and die, when they hear it.

A small giggle falls from your lips, tiny hands covering your mouth as you try not to laugh. Fred sighs in relief, but his anxiety returns when Kelly’s joking voice comes over the comms saying “Well, I guess we know who’s taking care of them.”

Linda drops out of nowhere, and nearly scares you to death as you shriek and bump into John, holding his leg tightly. You don’t really notice how he freezes, confused again.

“…sorry.” She doesn’t sound sorry, you think with a pout and drop from Chief’s leg, careful of your own busted ankle.

“That’s Linda, that’s Fred and I’m Kelly. You can just call him Chief. What’s your name?”

“Y-Y/N.”

“Alright. We won’t be able to make it if you’re walking, so you need to get on one of our backs.” Chief tells you, straight to business. “Which one of us do you feel comfortable with?”

He’s really hoping you pick Kelly or Fred. It wouldn’t exactly be a burden, you’re much tinier than the full grown people he’s had to carry out of a war zone, and you’re handling it much better as well, even though you’re barely ten years old.

“Um…” You look shyly up at Fred. “If you don’t really mind…”

*Aw. That’s… actually kind of sweet. Fred beckons you over, and hoists you up between his shoulders, giving you the rundown on what to do if people start shooting, and to hold on tight when he tells you to.

*You’re much more considerate than the freaked out VIPs he’s had to extract. But he still feels you twitch every time the wind causes something to clatter, so he decides to strike up conversation.

“So how did you wind up there?” It’s not until afterwards that he realizes that, unlike soldiers, civilians aren’t comfortable discussing stuff like that. But you answer that it was your dad’s factory, explaining that it was Bring Your Kid To Work Day.

The Spartans, specifically Kelly, asked you questions about it, having never heard of it themselves. After all, military settings rarely allowed such breaches of protocol.

You only trailed off as you got to the part where he told you to hide, and Fred lets it be.

When you finally get to the convoy, a nurse hurriedly tries to pull you away from the Spartans to help out, apologizing for not doing it sooner when Fred tells her it’s fine and that you can stay. After all, Kelly had fixed you up well, and you seemed terrified at the prospect of being left alone.

All that was left to do was fly up to the ship in outer orbit, with the rest of the survivors. Since there were such few Pelicans, everyone had been crammed into them, military and civilians alike. You’d simply wandered onto the one they’d been on, sandwiched between Chief and Fred.

Chief watches you picking at your shorts, and suddenly remembers the chocolate bar Sgt. Johnson keeps giving him - “you’re not yourself when you’re hungry, Chief” He’d snicker and then leave, Chief just standing there, not understanding the reference - but hey, chocolate was chocolate.

“Here. You did well.” Your eyes go wide, and for a second he thinks you’re going to refuse, but then you snatch it out of his hand and snarf it down. This is how it must feel to watch him eat.

“You’re going to like it up there.” Fred chimes in when your gaze starts getting distant again. “Space is really cool.”

In a twist of fate, you find one of your best friends when you arrive on the ship. Their parents promise to take care of you, and thank the Spartans.

When they start directing the survivors to their quarters, you hug every Spartan, even Linda… or their legs, since you couldn’t reach anything else. (Thankfully, you telegraph it pretty well, so they don’t accidentally smack you or something.)

John just stiffens and then nods, Fred pats you on the head awkwardly and shuffles away (he was very shocked by the affection), Kelly laughs and claps you on the shoulder, and Linda just hums and pets you on the head like a dog, walking away afterwards.

You go on to be a Marine yourself, finding yourself on the Halo campaign, where Chief and Cortana save you once more. You’re surprised he still remembers you.

You leave a bar of the same brand he gave you at his shrine, giving a heartfelt eulogy and catching up momentarily with the other members of Blue Team before you all leave again.

You almost faint when he shows up at Requiem, though. Don’t feel bad, as Lasky fanboys behind Chief for the whole campaign.

Palmer corrals you and Lasky into a break room to make fun of your behavior after it’s all over.

[draggingthedregs]

Hello! I love your writing so much! Can you write some kanej with Kaz being protective of Inej? If not that’s completely fine :) thank u!

a/n: okay so I always really struggle with “protective Kaz” things because I feel like he knows that she can most definitely take care of herself and he respects her for that. So this is what I came up with to try and meet in the middle. There’s that scene in Six of Crows where Kaz sends Inej to get rid of Rojakke (is that how you spell it? Idk he was in one scene, his name is not the point) and then when they’re back in his office that night he asks like “Did he put up a fight?” and she says “Nothing I couldn’t handle” and he says “Not what I asked” so thats where the idea for this came from, thank you bye. 

word count: 2634

There was something about the floor of the Crow Club that set Kaz at ease.

Its endless cacophony of coins bouncing from table to floor, the spinning of Makkers Wheel, the laughter floating onto the street, and, his personal favorite, the flipping that only accompanied a deck of cards. Somedays he thought he’d be content to shuffle at a table forever.

It was then that Inej pushed through the entryway, shaking off the rain that rarely ceased to pour over the crowded city. She pulled her hood down, her inky hair braided into a long rope laying against her shoulder. Kaz traced every inch of her, as he often did when she entered a room: the slope of her nose, the smile she flashed to the greetings shouted in her direction, the knives strapped to her hips. He tried to ignore the voice in the back of his head that reminded him he’d also be content to be with her forever.

There were times he hated the things that he would notice, hated how his brain slipped past the innocent intention of watching to a sinister place of touch and consequence. He flipped the thoughts over in his head, studying them from every angle like he would a card trick, trying to mold them into different pictures. But the images froze in place anyway; the feel of her skin against his burned like fire, even in an illusion.

Most of all, he hated that he couldn’t force these delusions into reality, couldn’t touch her how he wanted, couldn’t force the bile down and only feel Inej’s warmth.  

As she approached him, nodding to the private game rooms at the back of the club, giving him a clear view of her, he saw that something was amiss. Scarlet bloomed through her vest and onto her sleeve, trailing down to her thigh. He followed her, shutting the heavy door behind them and turning its complex series of locks. She’s upright. That’s all you should care about. 

“The Exchange was crawling with Stadwatch. Security must be tight since the incident.” 

“Did they see you?”

Inej practically scoffed, leaning her weight against the wooden table. “No. But I’m sure they’ll find someone who fits their bill. You know as well as I do, the council will want this quieted soon.”

Kaz nodded. Two weeks ago, the Exchange had been robbed, and though it was never publicly released, Kaz knew exactly what was stolen. After all, he had all the stocks and shipment papers locked in his safe as they spoke. 

Roeder had been the one to pull off the job originally, this being one of the few things Kaz had required a spider for while she was busy at sea. He had done a mediocre job, but he was sloppy with locks and leaving the place as he’d found it. Going back to the scene of the crime seemed too risky a gamble but when Inej returned, she knew she could scrape it. And Kaz wasn’t going to start doubting the Wraith’s abilities now. 

He flipped through the file she handed him. To anyone else, it may have looked useless, just pages and pages of numbers and times, scratchy handwritten tables filled with nonsense. But to him, and to a mercher with half a whit, this was key to investing. With the talleys and dates in hand, he would know what shipments to bank on and where to place his shares for the next few months. 

“As always, the Wraith pulls through.”

Inej nodded and pulled her hood up once more. “You’re welcome.”

Kaz gave her another once over, slower than intended. “What happened?” He blurted, his voice sounding like a low growl in his throat.  

Inej looked down at herself, brows knitted, studying the blood on her trousers. “Bullet or two from a guard just shooting at shadows.” With her brief summary of events, she took her weight off the table, readying herself for the journey back into the wet.

Kaz felt a sinking in his chest at the thought of her walking away from him, even if it was just to her apartment, and he hated himself for it. Now especially with her covered in blood, he couldn’t stomach the thought of her leaving. Without meaning to, he had taken himself back to before she had left.

It had been Inej’s last night before heading to sea when they had tried to pretend they were normal, that there wasn’t still so much between them. Kaz sat next to her on his bed, bad leg out in front of him, avoiding her gaze. 

“We don’t have to do this at all.”

But he did. Kaz had to prove that he had come further than this. I can best this… 

When she set sail the next morning, the feeling of failure settled deep within him, right beside the feeling that this time, he may never get her back from the sea. 

Now, he couldn’t help but stop her. “Inej-” he began. 

She turned, her hand resting on the doors heavy handle.

He made up the steps between them to stand beside her. Kaz forced himself to give any semblance of explanation, knowing that he’d promised to give her what she deserved and knowing that he was currently failing. “Let me walk with you.”

Inej nodded, dropping her hand as Kaz unlocked the door and opened it for her. He felt awkward, and quite frankly stupid; opening it as if she was some pretty girl that couldn’t handle the difference between whether to push or pull. She strided through anyway and he followed, silently cursing himself and hoping the grimace on his face looked normal for his temperament. Once they’d made it to the street, she slowed to walk beside him. 

At first, neither of them spoke. Then, in her gentle and hushed tone, perhaps to avoid his inevitable questions about her evening, “Am I getting a personal escort through the Barrel?”

Kaz needn’t look down to feel the smile in her voice. “Is that what you’d prefer to call it?”

“It isn’t exactly an evening stroll down the canal, is it?”

“I suppose not.” He cringed at the sound of his own rasp, smashing against the lift of her voice like waves against stone. Though from what he could tell, she didn’t do the same. Inej only shrugged, tugging her hood forward against the drizzle. 

“I only meant that I should feel lucky to get the King of the Barrel to myself for the night.”

Kaz thought he might keel over. “I am a busy man, but I still find time to survey my kingdom.”

Inej only rolled her eyes and kept her gaze straight forward. A moment of silence nestled between them, leaving only the sound off the East Stave hanging in the air. After fighting with himself for what seemed like far too long, his gaze settled atop her.

“Yes?”

Kaz swallowed hard, “Did you miss Ketterdam?” Did you miss me? 

She considered his question, and to him, the silence stretched through the air like a rubber band about to break. 

“I did. More than I thought I would.” Inej finally relented. Her voice had drifted to a somber place, a quiet stillness replacing the humor she’d had minutes before. 

They had turned down a back alley, the darkness consuming them in sore contrast to the dazzling lights of the Stave. Their footsteps echoed in a syncopated rhythm, his awkward gait and cane paired with her near-soundless steps. 

Maybe it was the high of having her back, walking next to him through Ketterdam as they’d done so many times before, but he hadn’t realized the direction they’d been walking. They approached the Slat, its crooked frame jutting out from the foundation at a welcoming tilt. He glanced down to Inej once more, watching as she took in the building, trying to see it through her eyes, as he wished to see much of the world. 

“Is the Captain afraid of her old nest?”

If he had intended it as a jab, she didn’t take it as such. Inej shook her head once, “It just feels like home…” 

She moved before he did, taking a deep breath of the stale air inside as she stepped through the threshold. There was movement, as there always was, but the Slat was quiet this time of night and Kaz was thankful. It meant that, selfishly, he could keep Inej upstairs and to himself for as long as he could come up with things to talk about. Perhaps they’d even sit on his bed and she would allow him to make up for the last time they’d found themselves there. 

Kaz marveled at her as she took the creaky stairs ahead of him, the steps creaking beneath his weight after seemingly not registering her. His eyes once again wandered to the blood stains that covered her. He felt a hair-pin trigger go off in his chest and suddenly, there was anger. 

Stop that. She isn’t yours to save. 

Inej waited for him to open the door, sidestepping as they both now stood on the landing. If Kaz hadn’t just been studying her, he might have missed her change in demeanor and the way she shifted her weight to the wall behind her.  

“Inej.”

“Hm?”

Kaz attempted to even his tone. “How bad are they?” 

“What?”

His voice sounded like stones grinding against one another, “The bullet wounds.”

She shrugged but he could see the stress of the evening in her features. Her limbs seemed heavy and her eyelids fought to open with every blink. With a shove, Kaz unlocked his office door, forcing the warped wood open and, without hesitation, Inej followed him in, taking in the room as she clicked the locks back into place.

He leaned his cane against the makeshift desk and shucked his gloves off as he approached the cabinet beneath his wash basin, digging through its drawers for gauze and shears. Behind him, he heard the familiar creak of his window opening. The smell of rain against the cobblestones wafted toward him. 

“Your window seat has felt neglected. Your crows too.”

“Does that mean you stopped feeding them while I was gone?”

No. They reminded me of you. I couldn’t let another piece of you go. “They’re scavengers. I’m sure they managed.”

It was then that Kaz turned to see her standing by his bed. Inej looked up, her cheeks flushing red like she’d been caught doing something she shouldn’t have been. He only walked over, setting the bandages on the thin mattress. “So I don’t have to find a heartrender for you.”

“They really aren’t that bad-”

“You’ve bled through your clothes. They’re bad enough.”

Inej cleared her throat as she began removing layers of knives and clothes. Kaz’s eyes roved over her, the pounding in his chest growing louder. He hated it. 

 Her arms and shoulders were covered in fresh scars, some of them still red and scabbed, and the bruises on her ribs were still deep purple. 

“Slavers don’t give up their cargo easily.” Inej’s voice came out with caution, as if she was waiting to see his reaction. 

His gaze met hers, voice carving into the air like a rusted blade. “Where are they all now?”

“Dead.”

A sense of pride cracked through him as a rare smile settled on his lips. Kaz nodded. “Good.” 

She picked up a strip of bandage, wrapping it around the bullet wound on her bicep, silence filling the space between them. Inej didn’t need to look up to feel the weight of his eyes on her. A flush crept to the tops of her ears. “I didn’t want you to see.”

It was rare for Kaz Brekker to be confused and yet, here he was. 

“I thought you might kill someone. Or start to doubt that I could handle myself.”

“I could never doubt you. Only a fool would.” It was only after he said it that he realized it had been aloud. 

Inej tied off the bandage then glanced down to the blood on her pants.  

“I can-”

“No.” She said, finally making eye contact with him again. “Stay.”

For his sake and hers, Kaz turned his head to avoid staring as she shimmied out of the bloodied fabric. 

She sat on the edge of the bed and poked around for any bullet fragments, the muscles in her thigh tensing, the dried blood on her skin looking black. Inej was just as strong as ever; all her limbs built of corded muscle coated in the lithe grace of an acrobat, just as he remembered. Despite his better judgement, Kaz took a long look at her. 

It’s shame that eats men whole. He could feel it gnawing at him as he attempted to push away the image of her bare thighs against his sheets. 

“Kaz, can you-?” She nodded to the scissors, her hands stuck at an awkward angle around her leg, the apprehension on her face clear. 

He picked them up and took a deep breath before sitting down beside her. When he leaned over, he was careful not to touch her. Her breath stirred the hair on the back of his neck. One turn of his head and their lips would have been inches apart. This reminded him far too much of the hotel washroom; he only hoped it would end better. 

Kaz cut the bandage gently, taking the end from her and tying it, his knuckles grazing against her skin. Panic hit him before anything else, afraid he had overstepped. It took him a moment to realize there was no revulsion roiling through him. 

“Inej-”

“It’s alright… Thank you.”

He nodded, grabbing what was left of the bandages and the shears and placing them on top of his dresser. Then he opened one of his drawers, rummaging through the mess of clothes until he found what he had been looking for. 

Kaz handed her a pair of cotton sleep trousers. “I can’t imagine yours are salvageable.”

Inej smiled, sliding them over her legs. They were huge on her. And though they hadn’t discussed her sleeping arrangements for the evening, it appeared she would be staying there. 

He sat back down, staring at his bare hands; the hands that had just graced her without trouble or hesitation. She reached over, threading her fingers through his, and studied him, watching for the shift. But it never came. 

“Will you lay with me?”

At that, he looked up. 

In front of him was a girl who deserved so much more than Dirtyhands. A girl who made the sea cower and made the sun look dull. A girl who could have done anything she wished in life with ease and grace. And yet- she was sat in his bed, holding his hand, and patiently waiting for the semblances of affection he could provide. 

Kaz felt himself nod. 

She pushed herself back until she was against the wooden headboard. They both moved slowly, carefully placing their limbs so there was no overlap. 

Then, he was laying beside her; both of their heads turned to study each other.

“Thank you.” Inej’s voice nearly a whisper. 

The minutes stretched into hours, and Kaz lay listening to her breathing. I will have you without armor. 

Well after twelve bells, the cadence of sleep seemed to grab hold of him, weighing heavy on his body. As his eyes drifted shut, he hoped that there would be more nights like this: nights with Inej close by his side and stillness in his mind. 

He reached for her hand in the dark and promised he would not let go come morning. He would never let go of her again. 

[cotton-tails]

So I saw this last night, and the little angsty plot bunny in my head woke up and I just had to write something. Fully intended to be a drabble of sorts, but of course it turned into a four page tear-fest, so grab the tissues and strap in.

Oh, and I haven't edited this, it's just 3am word-vomit, so enjoy the mess!

-

“So, this hasn’t exactly gone to plan.”

Della snorts cheerlessly at Donald’s deadpan comment, struggling into a sitting position and wincing at a twinge in her elbow. The chains dig into her arms with every movement, a very clear upgrade from the ropes they’d all been able to break out of within several minutes not too long ago. These idiots don’t know who they’re messing with.

Or they do; probably a little too well, hence the plan that fell apart very quickly. And the chains. And the scary looking red lightning below them.

“Shut up!” Heron snaps behind them, cuffing Donald a little too roughly around the head.

He doesn’t react more than a sharp hiss and a dark glare behind him, and Della can’t help the sharp pang of guilt under the surge of anger. She bites back a comment, keeping her eyes fixed on the ground until the villain is out of earshot.

“I’m sorry,” she breathes, keeping her voice low.

“What? Why?” Donald sounds confused but she can’t bring herself to look at him.

“You should be with Daisy right now,” she says, “I’m the one who guilted you into staying, into coming on this stupid trip. And now we’re facing the very real possibility of dying.”

Donald is quiet.

Forcing herself to look up, she frowns at the look on his face. He still doesn’t say anything, but the expression says it all; ‘Della-you-absolute-idiot-what-are-you-blathering-on-about?’

“I came on this stupid trip cause our kids were in trouble,” he hisses eventually, “my family were in trouble! You think I wouldn’t ditch my vacation in a heartbeat for any of you?”

“I-” Della starts, but her voice catches, rendering her utterly speechless. He’s not lying, she knows exactly what he would do for the family, for her. Yet, somehow that knowledge isn’t exactly helping.

She misses her chance to reply, all conversation cut off with the explosive arrival of Scrooge and Bradford through the roof.

Della clenches her fist and almost bites through the inside of her cheek as he slams to the ground. She manages to chime out a ‘Hey Uncle Scrooge,’ with Donald when his pained gaze finds them. Beakley mutters a sarcastic ‘Fantastic,’ from her other side. She can only watch as a now armoured Bradford, armed with the sword, picks him up by the back of his coat and drags him up the stairs. He’s blathering on about something, but she’s stopped listening; too busy focusing on her battered and beaten uncle and how this could have gone so completely and utterly wrong.

It’s the usual spiel anyway, threats to destroy his family, his adventures, everything he had worked for, blah blah blah.

Then the contract is revealed, and her stomach drops to somewhere around her knees. If they don’t find a way out soon, Scrooge will have to either sign his life away or they all die, and frankly, neither option sound particularly appealing.

It’s only when Bradford sacrifices his own agents that the desperateness of the situation really sinks in. It’s one thing to talk about murder, it’s entirely another to actually do it. And if Bradford is willing to throw away his own agents, Della can’t imagine what he would be willing to do to her family if Scrooge doesn’t sign.

He tries to buy some time. Della can almost hear the cogs turning in his head as he tries to figure out how to get out of this one. She huffs out a half-hearted laugh at the sharp quip about the fine-print. He’d figure something out, he always does. Not to mention the kids are bound to have found a way out by now, they’d pick up the rest of their allies and be on their way to disrupt the whole evil plan.

It’s just a matter of-

“Ugh! Enough stalling!”

Never mind.

“You need some incentive.”

Della does not like where this is going.

“Perhaps the life of your most trusted ally?”

The three of them snap their heads forward as Bradford stalks towards them, sword dragging on the concrete threateningly. As the screeching rings in Della’s ears, the only thought racing through her mind is ‘not Donnie, not Donnie, please, don’t take my brother.’

Her heart almost stops when he scoops Donald up by his collar, his cry echoing in her ears.

“Donald!” Three voices scream.

She can barely breathe, crippling panic bubbling up inside. All she wants to do is close her eyes and scream, break these chains and drag him back to safety, but she can’t move, she can’t take her eyes off her twin as he’s dangled over the edge.

“What will it be Scrooge? Adventure? Or your Family?”

‘Just do what he wants!’ She’s not ashamed of the thought. They’ll figure out a way to reverse the contract, there’s always a way, always a loophole. Just do it so she can see her brother safely on solid ground.

“Alright, I’ll do it.”

She can’t say she’s surprised at how quickly he gives in.

“No! Don’t!” Donald screams, “find a way out! You can beat him!”

The pen is already in his hand. “It’s not worth the risk lad.”

They can only watch in horror at the golden glow that circles around him, lifting him up and binding him with unbreakable chains that drag him to the ground.

“I did it!” Bradford crows triumphantly. “The great Scrooge McDuck, now only a poor old man!”

Della’s heart breaks just a little at the look of absolute misery on her old uncle’s face, but she doesn’t have time to mourn properly, because Bradford is talking. Again.

“Normally I wouldn’t indulge in such petty villainy,” he says, his gaze turning back to Donald, still dangling over the edge, with a glint in his eye that makes Della’s blood run cold. “But since this is a special occasion.”

He lets go.

Della’s eyes meet Donald’s for an agonising second, and then he’s gone.

There’s a flash of red, and someone is screaming.

She doesn’t even realise it’s her until a rough hand knocks her back.

“Shut it! Or it’ll be you next!”

Hot tears stream down her beak and she presses her forehead into the cold concrete, not even bothering to choke back a sob. Over the pounding of her own taunting heartbeat in her ears, she hears the sound of the machine powering down (‘Too late’ her traitorous mind provides), of her kids voices yelling something, and Scrooge shouting for them to be careful.

And Bradford, confused and angry as her family finally, finally step in to save the day.

His voice sets off something inside that she hadn’t felt since the day Lunaris betrayed her. A raging anger that burns through her, overwhelming any other emotion and completely taking over her mind.

The chains are no longer an obstacle, and even Beakley can’t stop her from launching herself at the buzzard. They tumble down the stairs, fists flying and feet kicking. Everything blurs after that, which may or may not be a side effect of a rather painful bump on the head as they hit the ground at the bottom of the staircase. She’s kicked off, then it’s just a cloud of lights and bodies and a strong arm holding her back from doing anything overly-reckless and potentially stupid.

The kids, her (their) beautiful, wonderful kids, figure out the loophole and the ever-binding contract disintegrates.

It’s done.

The maniacal villain is defeated once more. The world has returned to rights and the sounds of celebration fill the air.

But Della can only stand and watch, her hands trembling and eyes burning. Beakley stands behind her, hands hovering just behind her shoulders, ready to give comfort if needed.

He’s gone.

Her brother, the other half of her soul; just… gone.

And… oh.

Her knees buckle, a wrecked sob forcing its way from her throat. Beakley catches her with a arm round the shoulders and a hand under her elbow, lowering her gently to the ground as she crumples into a ball. She presses her hands to her eyes in a hopeless attempt to stem the tears as everything comes crashing down.

“It’s okay, let it out dear.”

He shouldn’t have been here. He should’ve been on that amazing adventure with Daisy, sailing together on that old houseboat. After everything life had thrown at him, after all the madness they’d been through, he’d finally caught a break, finally found that amazing person who loved him as fiercely as he loved her.

Then Della had come along, crying about lost time and not being ready. She hadn’t wanted to him to leave, even on a stupid vacation that he would very clearly be coming back from.

Now he wouldn’t even get the chance to go.

And it’s all her fault.

“Mom?”

The obvious confusion and concern in Huey’s voice is enough to send her tumbling over the edge all over again, fresh tears springing up at the thought of having to explain what happened to her- to his kids.

Scrooge hurries them away, and she tries not to listen to the hushed explanation, the startled gasps, and she has to cover her ears for the rest. She can’t stand it.

It’s all her fault.

“DELLA!”

‘What?’

There’s no mistaking that voice.

Her head snaps up so fast she’s half sure she’s given herself whiplash. Even through blurred eyesight, she knows that silhouette, that outfit, that stupid hat. She blinks, sniffing and scrubbing at her face with her sleeve, hardly daring to believe.

It shouldn’t be possible, there’s no way it’s possible. She saw it, she saw him fall, saw the flash of lightning, the empty space where he had been only moments before. She watched her own brother die. So how was he standing ten feet in front of her, laughing as he’s tackled by several small and colourful blurs?

A hand appears in front of her face and she looks up into the stunned face of her uncle. He looks almost as much of a mess as she feels, tearstains tracking down his cheeks and spotting on his coat.

“I think it might be best if we just don’t question it,” he says, helping her to her feet.

His hands are shaking as he holds hers tightly, but she doesn’t comment; it can’t be any worse than her own trembling limbs. They turn back to Donald, who’s ended up sat on the floor under the collective weight of the kids. He’s got a tearful Louie on his shoulder and several kids wrapped around his torso as he struggles to his feet, and Della can see him mouthing a headcount as he takes them all in.

“I swear every time we see you, you have more children.”

She hadn’t even noticed Panchito and José just beside him, grins wide and eyes twinkling with amusement and, in José’s case, something else that she can’t quite place. Donald just laughs at Panchito’s observation, the sound sweet as honey and causing even more tears to well up all round. The pure relief that sweeps through her is almost enough to make her knees give way again, but Scrooge’s hand gripping hers and Beakley’s arm still around her shoulders is just enough to keep her grounded.

Then he catches her eye.

“Hey Dells.”

The kids must see something in her face, cause they have to good sense to dart out of the way just moments before Della hurls herself at her brother. They almost topple backwards, but Donald is able to keep them just about upright while Della just focuses on wrapping her arms around him and burying her face in his shoulder. His arms circle her waist, holding her just as tightly. The tears are streaming freely now, but she’s beyond caring. He can yell at her about ruining his shirt later and she’ll just take it with a grin.

“You idiot!” she yells, her voice muffled by his shoulder, “I thought you were dead!”

“For a minute, so did I,” he says into her hair, “how about we just call it even?”

The soft jibe only makes her laugh, and she holds him just that little bit tighter.

Miracles do happen, and in the end all that matters is love, family and adventure.

But if he thinks she’s going to let him go galivanting off on some adventure without her now, then he’d better think again.

[dancingamongstdust]

Creepypasta Scenarios - First Meeting (Part 3)

I’ve opened requests now, if anybody is interested. Here’s the post:

Requests

Lost Silver

As stupid as it sounds, the game didn’t scare you.

It had started as a joke, something passed around your friend group after it had been discovered. The cartridge was just a janky version of a Pokémon game that was apparently spooky and so, everybody had taken turns messing around with it. They all said creepy things started happening but nothing too bad.

When it was your turn, you had been fully expecting something out of a horror movie. Instead, you had gotten a game that just had audio cut offs and weird notes warning you to stay out. It wasn’t all together scary.

You mentioned this to the next person you gave the game to in your friend group and they had laughed, saying it would probably ring true for them also.

But for some reason, your ally didn’t manifest.

Less than two days later, they practically threw the game at the rest of you and ran away sprouting things about curses. After that, the appeal of playing it kind of went away.

Nobody wanted to buy it and apparently throwing it out wasn’t a suggestion. So you ended up getting it.

Curiosity soon got the better of you and you booted up the game again, really sure that it would do something absolutely crazy but it never did. It ran like it always had with only that one file being completed.

So you deleted the file.

And nothing happened.

The next day, when you booted up the game, the file had simply returned as though you hadn’t deleted it in the first place. A similar thing occurred the next time. And the next.

Eventually you gave up and just started your own game. There, everything ran like it was meant to and you were beginning to think that your friends had all been imagining stuff. Maybe their paranoid got to them or something like that?

But eventually, the nightmares started. And they were bad.

You couldn’t remember exactly what happened during them. They were a swirling mess of games and glitches, horrible things spelled out in letters and blood covering everything. You would always wake up right when they seemed to be coming to a pivotal point. You’d find yourself dragged into a graveyard and then you’d wake up screaming

It was awful. You hardly got any sleep during them and they seemed to haunt you every night, keeping you up until the early hours of the morning.

But the worst only came when you didn’t wake up.

When you were dragged to the grave and looked down to see the ellipsis where the name should be. A punch to the gut that reminded you of what the game file was called. A confirmation of what was causing this dream.

You stared at it for ages before your eyes drifted up and you met his gaze. He was covered in blood, it leaked from every orifice and limb. It stained his dirty clothing even worse.

While you were staring, the world seemed to distort even though he didn’t. The game world melted away and your bedroom slowly reappeared.

It wasn’t until you saw car headlights move past your window – casting awful shadows across the room – that you realised you were no longer dreaming. He wasn’t a figment of your imagination.

The temperature in the room plummeted and you began to slowly reach for a weapon of some kind. He turned to look at what you were watching. His head tilted to the side and a glitch raced across his body before he vanished into thin air. Flicking on the lights didn’t show him hiding or cowering.

Perhaps your friends weren’t crazy after all.

Masky

“You know, if we had been a little more patient, none of this would have happened,” your sibling lectured. “We could be relaxing inside the car without having to worry about a bloody flash flood coming down from the sky.”

You shoved their back, forcing them to stumble a little as they went through the door. “Chances are the river’s going to burst its banks anyway. We would have been stuck in traffic for hours because the bridge is blocked off.”

“At least we would have been dry,” they muttered, running their fingers through their hair. “And not trapped inside an abandoned building.”

You rolled your eyes and made your way over the rubble to settle down on a camping chair. “Don’t even start. This place has been a hangout for my friends and I for ages. There’s never been a single problem bigger than a few spiders.”

“Till a landlord shows up,” they scoffed.

“Then we’ll move to the forest,” you joked. “I’m sure there’s a good bear cave we can use.”

“I’m going to be an only child,” they said, rolling their eyes. Still, they made their way over and sat. “How long do you think we have until the storm dies down?”

You relaxed back into the chair and smiled up at the asbestos-filled ceiling. “From the sound of it, a while.”

It wouldn’t have been the first time you had taken a nap in the building. You were scared of giant cockroaches coming to eat you once. You had gotten used to it since then but this time when you woke up, you were uneasy.

Glancing around, nothing was out of the ordinary. Your sibling was snoring in the chair next to you and outside the rain was pounding the roof.

You sat upright. Sometimes was definitely wrong.

Pulling your phone from your pocket, you got up from the chair and began walking as quietly as you could through the house. It had always been tiny and practically void of furniture, but the few rooms provided ample hiding spots.

Nothing but rubble was in most of the rooms but, in what you presumed had once been a bathroom, you found a person.

He had his back to you but when you pushed the door open to peer in, he spun around, his hand flying to his side. He was wearing a white mask, dark features etched onto it, and an orange jacket. A dark stain ran up the right side of it, emanating from under his hand. The oddness of his clothing made you immediately back away from the door, finger twitching on your cell phone in case you needed to call for help.

The two of you stared at each other in silence.

You were lost about what to say or do. The stain on his jacket was spreading and the more you stared at it, the more you became convinced it was blood. “Are you okay?” you finally managed to ask.

It took him a while to respond but then he nodded. The mask was unnerving you. You didn’t like not being able to see a person’s facial expressions.

“I don’t mean to pry or anything, but it really looks like you’re bleeding,” you said. “And quite badly. I can call for an ambulance or something although…” you turned your attention to the window behind his head. “I’m not sure they’ll be able to get anywhere with this weather.”

He stepped backward. “I’m fine,” he said, so soft you barely caught it. “I thought this place was abandoned.”

“It normally is,” you answered. “But we had to avoid the storm. I’m guessing that’s why you’re here also?”

“Yes,” he responded.

You waited or him to say something more, but all you got was silence. He had moved further away and now he had his back against the window. Part of you wanted to turn around and go back to your sibling but you were unsure about turning your back on the strange man.

The mask made you scared he could stab you or something.

Somebody calling your name made you turn your head on instinct. Your sibling must have woken up and realised you were missing.

Quickly, you turned back to the man, but he had disappeared. Rain spat through the now open window.

Nurse Ann

Everybody always warned you about exploring old buildings. They would yell about how many things could injure or kill you. Stray animals, drug addicts, old equipment, and all that. You had heard just about every warning imaginable. Ghosts were pretty commonly mentioned also.

But killer nurse was a new one.

“Come on, just give me a little more information,” you nagged. “I’m going there whether you’re with me or not so you may as well just tell me what you’ve heard.”

Your friend (and partner in crime for most ventures) groaned. “It’s not much. They just say that she guards the place and if you get too close, she’ll run you off with a chainsaw. Some people have died from injuries they got while there. Let’s just give this one a miss, alright?”

But you were not in agreement at all.

“Maybe she’s cute though,” you teased.

They didn’t find that funny and you didn’t push them to come with you. So later that evening, you snuck in by yourself.

The hospital was old with crumbling walls and smashed windows. It was hidden from the public by means of a tall barbed-wire fence and a substantial distance of open garden. Nothing too extreme for you and definitely worth the potential items you’d find inside. When hospitals went under, they often left tons of awesome stuff just scattered around.

You’d never sold anything you found in your abandoned building dives. They were more collectables than anything else but they meant quite a bit to you.

There weren’t any signs of crazy nurses as you approached the place. Nobody came running at you with a chainsaw at least. You didn’t even find evidence of squatters who could sometimes pose some danger.

After deciding it was safe enough, you lifted yourself through one of the windows and began to explore.

Honestly, it was creepy. Everything was way too old to be worth collecting and there were too many unidentifiable stains for your liking. The water damage was bad. It looked like the ceiling was there for aesthetics only and several rooms creaked too much for you to comfortably cross them.

And that was even without the awkward feeling of being watched.

You told yourself that it was just superstition but you couldn’t shake it. Every few seconds saw you looking over your shoulder in anticipation. It distracted you from keeping your eye on the path in front of you and the loud crack reached your ears too late.

The floor gave out and you fell through. Your shoulder hit some kind of metal object as you landed in the room below. Painful shocks ripped through your body and your head knocked against the floor with a heavy thud.

Stars danced in front of your vision and you raised your hand to the top of your head. Blood coated your hand when you lowered it to look.

Shit.

Shakily, you tried to pull yourself up but quickly found that your arm was too sore. Instead, you pulled your phone from your pocket and sent off the emergency text to your friend.

The world faded to black not long after that.

When you woke up next, you were in your room with a bandage wrapped around your head. You had felt like absolute crap but still gotten up to thank them for the save. They had nodded and warned you to be more careful, happy that you had been outside the hospital so they didn’t have to look for too long.

Before you could even think about how you had crawled there, they asked how you had managed to do your own stitches so nicely.

Puppeteer

Your camera was on 10% battery.

Grumbling, you shoved it into your bag and cursed your past self for forgetting to put it on charge. In order to get the best sunrise photos, you had found yourself waking up earlier and earlier. It was tiring but it was worth it… most of the time.

You just hoped that at least one of your pictures was usable but you could only check on them once you got home.

The streetlight above your head flickered as you walked past. It wasn’t unusual but when you were the only person awake for miles around, it was awfully creepy.

Putting your hands into your jacket pockets, you continued strolling back home. The neighborhood had never been dangerous and despite living in the area for your entire life, no incidents made you want to stop walking around at night.

Deciding that you wanted to take a precautionary shot, you headed for your neighbour’s house first. They had an arch covered in jasmine flowers that made for some perfectly safe photos and they never minded your presence.

After making your way there and getting a few photos, you were treated to the fright of your life when their began howling and barking. It wasn’t aimed at you but you didn’t like the noise regardless.

As you rounded the corner of the house, planning on racing back to your own home, you encountered the dog’s target.

A man – cloaked in the darkness and barely illuminated by the streetlight – opening one of the windows with ease. Irritated by the dog, he didn’t notice you until your finger twitched around the shutter of your camera. There was a flash.

His head snapped up and you screamed.

The man’s complexation was literally grey. He wasn’t just ill, he was the colour of storm clouds. Golden eyes with no pupils glared at you and froze you in place. Whatever he was, this man was the furthest thing from human.

Your scream woke your neighbors. The sound of movement began coming from inside the house.

He abandoned the window, stalking towards you. The air tingled like it was expecting a lightning storm. Golden tendrils grew from his fingertips and shot towards you. They had you pinned in an instant.

You struggled against them and opened your mouth to scream again but they wrapped around your head, forcing your jaw shut.

This was how you died… tears spilled down your cheeks at the realization. You were going to be an unsolved murder. All you hoped was you got a good picture of him.

Your neighbor’s front door opened and great dane let out an ear-splitting bark as he raced toward you.

The man, or creature, or monster, or whatever he was, released you to face the dog. He let it approach before vanishing into a cloud of smoke as its jaws reached him.

“What was that?” the timid voice brought you back into reality.

“It was trying to get into your house,” you said. “I screamed when I saw it and then it grabbed me.” Your voice changed to a whimper as reality hit you. You nearly died.

The small child of the house came over to hug your leg. “I’m sure Puppet didn’t mean to scare you,” she said. “He always comes to visit but he doesn’t like it when people make noise. You shouldn’t scream when you see him again.”

You made eye-contact with the parents and they wore expressions of horror at their daughter’s words.

“Puppet?” you asked in a small voice.

She nodded rapidly. “He says he stops by because he likes watching people. I think that he’s watching us all right now! But he can hide in the shadows too well.”

“I’m going to go and call the police,” somebody said.

You weren’t all too focused. The feeling of being watched grew heavier and you clutched tightly at the camera in your hands.

Slenderman

You couldn’t tell if they were being serious. You hoped that they were joking. They weren’t genuinely going to…

“No,” you stated.

The two younger children both turned to look at you simultaneously. Guilt flashed across their faces as though they weren’t aware you were listening. It was as though you were asked to babysit them because you didn’t pay attention. These two should have realised that by now.

“Do you think all the stories are true?” the boy asked. “I think that they are. One of my friends said she saw a huge dog in the forest and then it ran away after eating a whole cow!”

“No way!” his twin sister shouted. “Dogs don’t eat cows, so it can’t be true!”

You put on your best intimidating expression and crossed your arms. “I don’t care if they’re true or not. There is absolutely no chance that either of you are going to go running off into the woods with bears, wolves and all kinds of other creatures.”

The two children glanced at each other and bolted for the tree line before you could grab their shirts.

Thankfully your legs were longer even if they had a head start and you managed to catch up pretty quickly. Once you caught the boy and picked him up with ease, the girl dashed behind a tree.

“Can we please just leave?” you asked nicely. “If we forget about the forest adventure thing, I promise I won’t tell your parents and I’ll get you ice cream.”

The boy was trying his hardest to get out of your hold. You were starting to think babysitting didn’t pay enough.

“I don’t want ice cream,” the girl said. “I want to go and find a unicorn.”

She darted off into the forest and you let out a deep groan. Shifting the boy’s weight over your one hip, you started walking after her. If you wanted to give chase via running, you would have to put the kid down and trust him to follow or stay.

It was obvious that wasn’t happening.

It didn’t take you too long to find the girl. Mostly because she had stopped in the middle of a weird grove in the trees. She was just staring off into the dark shadows beyond it.

As you approached her, static popped in your ears. You shook your head in an effort to displace it but the closer you got, the louder it became.

The child in your arms whimpered, clutching his head.

You softly called her name and then it appeared. It was a man-like monster, standing just in the shadows of the trees. Easily over 7ft tall and insanely thin with no facial features. Your heart jumped into your throat and your stomach tied itself into a knot.

Without taking your eyes off it, you reached out a hand and fumbled around until you grabbed the girl’s shirt.

The static was getting louder and louder. You tried to shut it out as you started moving backwards, tugging the child along after you. She wasn’t willing to move her legs. She was entranced but whether by fear or magic, you couldn’t tell.

And then it was much closer.

You stumbled in fright, letting go of the girl’s shirt and landing on your ass. The boy fell on top of you but scrambled away and hide in the bushes within the blink of an eye. You sent a silent prayer to him to run back home to the other adults.

Once again, the creature was stationary but now the static was growing to such a volume that you could imagine your ears were starting to bleed.

You reached out for the girl again slowly, but something wrapped around your leg and yanked you into the air.

It took almost a full second for you to realise that the screaming ringing in your ears was you. Whatever was holding you tightened and whipped your body through the air. It was like your leg was being ripped away.

Then you were falling.

It was some feat of luck that you managed to twist your body, so you didn’t land on your head. You lay there for a while before something poking your back made you unbury your face.

The twins were staring at you with wide eyes and the monster was nowhere in sight.

“What was –“ you couldn’t finish.

“Slenderman,” they said in perfect sync.

Splendorman

Another stop…

You couldn’t help yourself. Every time you walked past one of the posters fluttering lightly in the wind you had to stop and stare at it.

A few days ago, your dog, your beautiful and sweet puppy, had disappeared from your house without a trace. The missing posters were depressing reminders that he wasn’t home. It hadn’t taken long for your mind to spiral into the negative thoughts about how close the road was.

Damn your coworkers. One of the had suggested the road in the first place and while they hadn’t intended anything malicious, it was definitely not helping your fears.

The dog had been with you through thick and through thin… if it was dead, you may as well have lost a close family member.

Hanging your head, you dragged your eyes away from the poster and kept walking.

People bumped into you, but it was your fault. You refused to look up in case another poster distracted you. Getting home before the sun set was your only focus now.

You had tried going out and searching in all the places where your dog once spent time to no avail. Always willing to try again, you chose to drop off your bags and head out later that evening when you ran out of distractions.

As you walked through the gates in front of your house, a gust of air gently messed up your hair. A gust of wind suspiciously similar to a laugh.

Your logical mind told you it came from the street, but something made you stop in your tracks.

The walls around your property towered. There’s no possibility that somebody could be in your garden. To try and scale one of the walls, they would have been in full view of your neighbours who would have undoubtedly called the cops.

“You’re sad,” the wind whispered before you could brush off your suspicion.

Spinning wildly, you searched around for the source. You backed up until your entrance gate was behind you. You could run down to the main street with ease if you could just get your fumbling fingers to unlock things.

“Don’t run,” the wind said, this time blowing from a separate direction. “I promise I’m not going to hurt you. I just wanted to know why you’re upset.”

Is this what going insane was? Nobody around and the wind was talking to you. You had always feared losing your mind and now it was happening.

“I’m real,” the wind said. “I’m hiding because I’ll scare you if you see me.”

“I’m going mad,” you muttered, shaking your head. “If this is somebody pulling a prank on me I swear….”

The wind quietened for a bit and then it picked up again, ruffling your hair as it spoke. “If I show myself, it’ll prove that you’re not going crazy, but I don’t want to make it worse by frightening you… you’re so sad already.”

“I lost my best friend and people have been telling me he’s most likely dead,” you hissed. “Obviously I’m not in the best mood. Now I’m losing my fucking mind and talking to air.”

The atmosphere around you dropped, like it does moments before lightning strikes. You glanced at the sky in confusion. As expected, no clouds in sight.

You lowered your gaze and a 7ft tall creature covered in bright polka dots stood in front of your house.

Once you screamed, it disappeared.

“I’m sorry,” the wind said. “I knew I would scare you, but I had hoped it would show you that I’m not imaginary. I’m just trying to help.”

The gate finally opened behind you and you stumbled backwards through it, your heart sitting in your throat. A monster was in your house and it was probably going to kill you. Spinning on your heel, you took off full speed back towards the main street.

You were fully expecting it to give chase now that you hadn’t fallen for its claims of harmlessness but it didn’t.

Instead you reached the main road and only got a few strange looks because of how much you were shaking. Nothing followed you.

The wind picked up once more. “I’ll try and help,” it promised.

People walking around you should have heard it as well but none of them so much as blinked.

Ticci Toby

While you had been told that a noise limit for the forest existed, your laughter refused to cooperate. It rang through the trees and probably chased off all the animals nearby. A picnic out in a national forest was a fantastic way to reconcile with nature and to scare it all away.

With eleven people in your picnic party, chances of any creatures coming into view were already slim though so you didn’t worry too much.

“We didn’t bring nearly enough fruit,” you muttered as you dug in the basket.

“Excuse you, I brought a whole watermelon but you ate it,” somebody answered your grumble. “If you want fruit, it is spring. Go and forage for some berries.”

You snorted. “Yeah, right. I’m going to go out by myself in the middle of the one season where bears are irritable as fuck. I know I sometimes act a little impulsively, but I don’t exactly have a wish to die at the claws of a grumpy teddy.”

Your friend leaned towards you. “Is that so? What if we split into teams and made a bet? Loser has to take a dip in the river.”

“A bet?” you asked. “I’m interested.”

She grinned and snapped her fingers. “Okay, there are eleven people so I’m feeling groups of two with one impartial party as a judge. We should be fine if we make enough noise and stick within close vicinity to each other. See how many berries we can gather?”

Tipping out the picnic basket’s contents, you smirked and pushed it into her chest. “Oh, I hope you brought a swimming costume.”

Everybody teamed up with ease and grabbed one of the many containers lying on the blanket. You headed out with your partner and gave a wink to the other teams. All you needed was to find one good bush first and you had it won.

“We should split up,” your partner said. “Cover more ground.”

You nodded. “We meet up back here once we’ve found a good bush,” you agreed. “And we shout if we find any animals.”

Obviously, your plans hadn’t involved losing your footing almost directly after the two of you split.

Tumbling down the small hill, you tried your hardest to protect yourself from the bushes as you went through them. At some point, you lost your basket and by the time you had finally rolled to a stop, you had no idea where it was.

Grumbling, you stood up and started searching until something dark caught your eye. Thinking it was your basket, you made your way over.

The clearing you walked into housed a scene you could never have imagined.

A dead bear lay slumped against a tree, its fur being what had caught your eye earlier. A hatchet buried in its neck was spilling blood onto the floor around it. All that hardly compared to the man leaning against a tree.

“Oh my god!” you exclaimed. “Are you alright?”

His head immediately snapped up, allowing you to see that he was wearing a mouth guard and a pair of goggles. Blood seeped from between his fingers where they clutched against his chest, but he hardly noticed. A hatchet was hanging from his belt.

Suddenly, you were wishing you had kept your mouth shut.

He stared at you blankly for a while, an occasional twitch minorly affecting his body. Reaching up, he took off his mouthguard. “I can’t feel any pain,” he said. “So, I’m fine. Why are y-you out here? The hiking trail is far.” He struggled with one of the words, seeming to hiccup a little on it.

“I was searching for berries and I slipped down a hill,” you answered. “Are you sure you’re okay? It looks like you got into a fight with a bear. Your shirt is all bloody.”

“I did fight a bear,” he laughed, gesturing to it. “I won.”

Your eyes grew wider. “I think you should get to a hospital. What’s your name? I can call somebody for you and we’ll get you medical attention.”

“Toby,” he said. “That’s my name. What’s yours?”

You gave him your full name and pulled out your phone. “My friends are close by,” you said. “Don’t worry, they’ll be here to help soon.”

When you raised your attention from your phone, he had disappeared and so had the hatchet from the bear’s neck.

Trenderman

Work was hard. It made your feet ache, it made your back click and crack, and it felt like the problems would never end.

Would you give up working in the fashion industry? Not a chance.

Your boss walked past where you were calming down an irate customer over the phone and dropped the keys to the front of the building in front of you. “Close up for me,” she mouthed as she left.

Nodding, you moved them to the side of the desk where they couldn’t be lost.

Once you had finished calming the customer, you glanced around to check how many people were left in the room. Three still working and one in the process of leaving. You were technically going into overtime at this point, but you didn’t mind.

There was a reason you were promoted so quickly.

“We need to set up cameras!” one of the floor managers snapped, storming into the office. She marched straight over to your desk and glowered at you. “I put this request in a week ago.”

Scrolling through the documents, you quickly opened the file. “I see but it looks like it’s been bumped due to a shipment malfunction, I’ll flag it. What’s the problem?”

“Customers or members of staff are moving items around and throwing things out without warning. We need to catch the culprits!” she snapped.

“What has been thrown out?” you asked. “I’ll add it into the information.”

The woman started listing quicker than you could type. “I’ve found crocs, toeless thigh-high boots, bellbottomed jeans, coloured faux fur jackets, luminous lipstick, w-necks, and jeggings all in vast numbers in the trash can. Every time I put them out on shelves, they disappear again.”

It took everything in you not to snort. “I’ll mark this vital.”

She stalked off and you went back to inputting the shipping requirements. You were meant to be organising what was coming in for the latest line and subtly omitting anything that wouldn’t sell well enough.

Slowly but surely, your co-workers trickled out of the office after finishing off their daily tasks. You kept going, trying to make sure you could have a longer break the next day.

Finally, when the sun had already set, you relented and started getting ready to go home.

You sung as you finished packing up for the day. Being the last one in the building (thus having to lock up) made you a little more confident as you danced around getting everything together. You slung your bag over your shoulder and happily trotted over to the door.

It made you so happy that your boss entrusted you to be the last one around. She was so hyper-protective of company secrets that you were proud of yourself for winning her over.

Your talent with people was something you attributed to dealing with painful customers.

As you passed through the store-part of the business you stopped to rearrange a mannequin. Every morning when you came in, you always noticed something had been changed with this specific one. You figured you could move something small and see if it would be a good place to set up a hidden camera.

Though you weren’t expecting it to suddenly grab your arm.

“You may be one of the few workers here with good taste, but I advise you don’t try and change my outfit,” it said. It didn’t have a mouth, but the words rang in your head, nevertheless.

You screamed and pulled away, tearing your arm from its grip. Shelves were knocked over and clothing was sent flying as you tried to escape.

The mannequin just watched you as you fumbled madly for the door.

The glass rattled in the frame from how hard you slammed it shut behind you. You sped off down the street, moving faster than you ever had before. You collapsed on your lawn by the time you reached the house, taking deep breaths.

Nothing had followed you. Everything was okay.

With shaking fingers, you dialed your boss’ number and told her you would be taking a sick day. There wasn’t a chance in hell you were going anywhere near there again.

Not to mention the mess you made… you were definitely getting fired.

[writersmorgue]

Nightmare Material

15+ for graphic descriptions of violence, blood, and gore

can be read as slash or platonic

not proofread

-

“SHUT UP DEKU! OH MY GOD, CAN YOU BE QUIET FOR FIVE FUCKING MINUTES?!”

The common room goes silent.

“Woah, Bakubro, he just asked if you were busy,” Kirishima chuckles nervously.

Katsuki looks over to Deku who, as expected, already has tears welling in his eyes.

“Shitty crybaby, of course I’m busy can’t you fuckin’ see? Go bother someone who cares.”

Deku sniffles like the pathetic little child that he is, and nods, “Ok Kacchan.”

“Fuckin’ annoying ass-” Katsuki mutters, ignoring the glares as he stomps out of the room. Taking the stairs two at a time before slamming the door shut behind him, imagining the flinches of his classmates as he does so.

Fuck that fucking nerd, always looking down at him. Asking him for help on math of all things, when he fuckin’ knows that’s Katsuki’s worst subject. Fuck him.

The little shit shouldn’t even be here, he’s not on Katsuki’s level. Just gonna get himself killed.

After a few minutes of grumbling into his pillow, there’s a knock at Katsuki’s door, followed by a meek, “Blasty?”

He groans dramatically and flops over onto his back, propelling himself up with a few controlled explosions.

“Fuckin’ what-” He swings the door open and comes face to face with the entire idiot squad.

Sero, Kirishima, Mina, and Kaminari all stand in front of him, Sero nervously wringing his hands, Kaminari avoiding eye contact, and Kirishima giving him a look.

Mina steps to the front of them, patting Kirishima’s shoulder as she does so.

“Blasty, you really gotta stop.” She stares him straight in the eyes, not backing down no matter how hard he glares.

“Stop fuckin’ what.”

Kirishima places a hand on Mina’s chest, stalling her step forward into Katsuki’s space. “You know what, Bakugo.”

Katsuki rolls his eyes, “Oh please, like the little shit can’t handle some yelling. I’ve seen discount hot topic make his ears bleed-”

“This isn’t about Jirou. This is about you. You need to sort your shit out.” Sero’s frowning, a rare sight.

“Oh?” Katsuki quirks an eyebrow, “Or what?”

There’s a tense silence before Kaminari sniffs. “Or- or we won’t be your friends anymore!!” He stutters, bottom lip wobbling.

The rest of the group nods, one by one giving him a last glance.

Katsuki stands there for a few minutes, mainly thinking, but also fuming

How dare they treat him like that, like trash. He’s not trash, and he’s not the bad guy. He’s just trying to save Deku before it’s too late. Stupid idiot won’t last a day in the hero business, even with his new freak quirk. All it’s good for is hurting the nerd.

“Stupid Deku and his stupid protection squad, fuckin’ blind idiots.” He grumbles, slamming the door and returning to his lair.

He changes his clothes, resigning himself to finishing his weekend at the gym instead of on next week’s homework.

Bakugo stomps through the common room on the way to their practice room, a few of his classmates shoot him glares but he’s ignored for the most part. Something noticeably purposeful since he’s not exactly being quiet. Even Kirishima refuses to acknowledge his presence.

Yeah, that hurts.

He runs for two hours, lifts for one, and finishes with core for thirty minutes before his post-workout cooldown ritual. Thoroughly satiated and tired to the bone, he heads back to his dorm. Ignored this way too, he doesn’t bother saying goodnight to anyone. Not that he would usually. Not that he misses Ashido’s “Night blasty!!” on his way up the stairs.

He doesn’t give a shit.

He scrubs at his body with his last bits of energy and brushes his teeth half dead on his feet. Exhausted, he flops down on his bed and passes out almost immediately.

…

Someone’s screaming.

Katsuki lunges toward Shigaraki, whose hand barely grazes Izuku’s neck.

Izuku? When did he ever call the nerd something other than-

“DEKU!!!” Oh, he was the one screaming. He blasts himself forward and pushes Izuku out of the way, his dusted skin flaking off into the breeze as green hair skids to a stop on the ground below.

“Damn BRAT-” Shigaraki mutters, angrily scrunching his hand in mid-air before turning his attention to Katsuki. “YOU.” He points a cracked, pointed finger at Katsuki.

“Yeah, what are you gonna do about it old man?” He snorts, preparing his arms to blast again, he can feel the resistance from his last jump.

“You saved the little shit,” Shigaraki mutters to himself, nails dragging roughly down his neck, “must have a relationship, must be close to my enemy. Must die-”

Katsuki raises his hand, palms crackling in defiance, but he’s geared to go anyway.

Nothing happens.

“Fuck goddamnit!” His one fucking chance to get a drop on the guy and he’s out of juice? Fucking really?!

He’s so caught up in his fury he doesn’t notice the mad glint in the enemy’s eye. The way he smiles brokenly, bloody tongue barely peeking out.

“Poor little hero.” He mutters.

Katsuki jerks his head up just in time to see five fingers inches away from his face.

Well, this was fun.

“KATSUKI-” There’s pressure on his side and he falls, belatedly realizing he was pushed out of the way.

He looks hits the ground hard, hearing the reverberated snap of his ankle as it breaks.

“FALL HERO!! FALL BEFORE ME! YOUR NEW GO-”

Shigaraki falls to the ground as Todoroki whacks him over the head with a piece of rebar.

HIs normally stoic expression is frantic, he’s got fresh tears streaking down his face, and his forehead is covered in dried blood.

He tears his eyes away from the downed villain as Kirishima comes to cuff him, and screams in anguish at the sight of Izuku- Something Katsuki is still trying to wrap his head around.

A startled, almost pained sound escapes Katsuki as he half limps, half runs towards his best friend.

...best friend?

“IZUKU!”

Izuku has long since crumbled to his knees, clutching what remains of the left side of his face. Still slowly crumbling away. Blood pours down his arm and neck, making it difficult to see, but the sight of his eye frantically widening as Katsuki sits next to him is enough.

He removes his hand and sobs, throwing himself onto Katsuki.

“Eih- hgo-” He chokes, blood soaking Katsuki’s own suit as he rocks them both.

“Shh, it’s okay, Izuku.” He whispers, making eye contact with a sobbing Todoroki, who nods in approval.

“Izuku you’re gonna be fine.” The shock has yet to remove itself from Katsuki’s voice, and his words are filled with cracks and sobs, but he hopes it’s what Izuku needs.

“Aa- aah” Izuku’s broken kacchan followed by a fresh flow of blood down Katuski’s neck.

“I love you, Izuku. It’s gonna be alright.”

Izuku whimpers, clutching onto the blond’s neck for dear life.

And then he goes limp.

Katsuki’s eyes bug out, and he pulls Izuku arm’s length away. The gruesome sight that greets him is one he’ll never forget.

Izuku’s left eye hangs loosely down the side of his mangled cheekbone and jaw. Katsuki can see teeth starting to crumble as the decay works its way through his face. His nose is completely exposed, with no flesh left. No cute freckles. No scrunch when he smiles. And his other eye, possibly the worst part, stares lifelessly at Katsuki. The last remnants of tears make their way down his face.

He looks… terrified.

He died scared in the arms of his abuser. Someone who never even apologized to him. For fucking anything. Some vile part of Katsuki reminds him.

He saved me because I couldn’t do my fucking job.

He thrusts Izuku’s lifeless body into Shouto’s arms, who lets out a heartwrenching sob. Katsuki scrambles back, and can vaguely register the sound of pink cheeks vomiting behind him.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck-” becoming increasingly more desperate with each utterance of the word, “FUCK!” Kirishima comes up behind him, picking him off the dust-covered ground and holding him to his chest. “This is all my fault!!!” He wails, “He fucking saved me, I couldn’t- this isn’t right no no NO-”

“Shhhh Katsuki-” Eijirou soothes him through his own tears, always the constant in Katsuki’s life. Well, after Deku.

Deku Deku Deku.

Dead Deku.

Because of you.

Katsuki takes another good look at Deku’s face where Shouto had freaked and discarded him on the ground. The unnatural bend of his arms, the bloody drool escaping his parted- if you can even call that a mouth anymore, his eyes.

And he screams.

He screams and he screams and he screams until someone shakes him so hard he wakes up.

Wait-

“BAKUGO!!! WAKE UP PLEASE-” Shitty hair screams at him, shaking his shoulders desperately as he thrashes in his sheets.

He stills, staring up at Kirishima with a shocked expression.

“Wh-”

“You were having a nightmare,” Kirishima explains, gasping for breath like he just ran a marathon.

Katsuki looks to the doorway where half of the boys in their class stand, expressions varying from worried to shocked.

He looks back at Kirishima, a pitiful whimper escaping his throat, “It- it wasn’t real?”

Katsuki looks to the door, half expecting to see Izuku there.

Missing an ear, you can see his tongue through his cheek.

Katsuki gulps, “Where’s Izuku?” He murmurs into the quiet room.

“Izuku?” Someone in the hallway mutters.

“Uh,” Kirishima catches himself before he can say something dumb, “Izu?- Uh- Midoriya is probably in his room. Didn’t think you’d want him here, but he knows. You kinda woke up the whole dorm.”

Kirishima has barely finished the sentence before he’s jumping out of bed, pajamas be damned, and sprinting toward the stairs. When he gets to Izuku’s floor he makes a hard right, Icyhot shouting something about being nice behind him.

Katsuki can yell at him later.

Running gives him time to think, and the more Katsuki thinks the more he realizes that his nightmare might as well have been a prophecy. Izuku would pull some martyr shit like that, but it was only Katsuki’s fault in the first place that he was put in that situation. He’s the only one to blame. Izuku had done everything right, and Katsuki managed to fuck it up.

Hollow socket, tendons hanging, blood turning his green suit a muddied brown.

Katsuki knocks on the door frantically, scared about what he’ll see when Izuku answers.

There’s some rustling from inside before Izuku peeks out, green curls messy from sleep.

“Wh- I thought Aoyama said you were having a nightmare.” His eyebrows furrow.

“I was,” Katsuki breathes, taking in how whole his rival is. “But it wasn’t real.”

He reaches out hesitantly and brushes an unruly lock of green out of Izuku’s left eye.

“Everything’s where it should be-” He chuckles almost in bewilderment.

He drags his fingers gently down Izuku’s cheek, tracing where the decay had rotted away skin, now whole.

A few of the classmates who followed him gasp in surprise when Katsuki clutches Izuku’s shoulders and buries his face in soft green hair. Completely breaking down as he sobs.

Izuku freezes, terrified of ruining the moment, even though he really wants to ask someone what the fuck is happening.

He gives Kirishima a questioning look as he hesitantly rubs along Katsuki’s back.

The redhead just shrugs.

“I’m sorry Izuku.”

Aaaand the damn breaks.

Izuku sobs as Katsuki clutches him tighter, their friends begin to awkwardly back out of the hallway after witnessing whatever that was.

“Wh- Kacchan?” He pulls away reluctantly, but he needs to see Katsuki’s face.

The blond’s eyes are red and puffy, same as his cheeks, but he’s dead serious.

“I’m so fucking sorry. You don’t deserve any of the shit I put you through, you’re a really good guy.” He heaves in a breath, “And- I know you’ll be a great hero someday.”

“Kacchan… why?”

Katsuki looks away, “I just- thought about some things,” He doesn’t mention that the thinking involved seeing his classmate’s bloodied corpse, “realized how full of myself I am. You really did just want help on that math homework, huh?” He huffs, shaking his head at his past self.

“I did. What else would I have wanted?”

Katsuki sniffs, angrily rubbing at his eyes, “I don’t know, Izuku. I’m a fucking idiot.”

Izuku smiles sadly, “All I’ve ever wanted is to be your friend, Kacchan.

The blond nods, “Yeah, I think I see that now. Can- can we still do that? Be friends?”

Izuku beams, rubbing his own tears away and pulling Katsuki into another tight hug.

“There’s nothing I want more, Katsuki.”

[redhoodieone]

Fucking Perfect

A/N: Hey, y’all!!! Here’s another fic that was actually a request from @jasontoddslut. I hope you all enjoy!

WARNINGS: Language, violence, and smut!

It wasn’t that late. With a DVD and a large free pepperoni pizza in hand (the pizza was actually a “thank you” from a local pizza owner after Jason saved his life), Jason couldn’t help but keep smiling underneath his red helmet as he drove to his and Danielle’s home. They were supposed to have a night in; no distractions, no interruptions, and no patrolling, for him at least.

But Bruce had called him for help last minute around 9:00 because Joker decided to break out of Arkham Asylum with every other inmate, from Harley Quinn to Scarecrow. To say the mission was bizarre as hell wouldn’t be exaggerating. Jason and Dick laughed their asses off the entire night because it was like a high school reunion for all of Gotham’s villains. Even Bruce couldn’t help but grin a little when he saw the Riddler and Penguin link arms and skip down the street behind Bane, Two Face, Mr. Freeze, and Killer Croc.

It was one hilarious but memorable sight.

But now all Jason could think about was getting back home to Danielle as he speeds down the streets on his bike from Arkham while holding the box of pizza and DVD. Just thinking about a hot shower, cuddling with Danielle on the couch under a fluffy blanket, and just falling asleep in the comfort of their home makes him consider giving up the vigilante life sometimes.

He wondered what his life would be like not being everyone’s hero.

No more subtle or dangerous injuries. Staying in bed the entire night. Having the ability to go here and there and do everything normal like others. Maybe even settling down somewhere in the countryside, where he can finally retain his own property, perhaps build himself his own auto salvage business where he’ll specialize in fixing and rebuilding expensive, fast cars and bikes.

Having something to call his own has always been a secret dream of his. Only Y/N knows all that.

Jason could just see it now: waking up early to see the beautiful sunrise from the safety on the ground, arm wrapped protectively around his wife, who would be pregnant with their child...

He initially tenses up at that particular thought. Jason has never even spoken about his desire to have kids. Hell, he has always boasted about hating kids; often complaining about them being bratty, loud, and just being unbearable little shits.

Jason even pretends to despise Dick and Barbara’s five-year-old son, Tommy, just because he enjoys pissing them off. But in all honesty, Jason loves his nephew and knows damn well that if anything were to happen to Tommy...Jason would fucking kill them in a heartbeat.

Fuck, even Barbara gets on Jason’s ass about when he’s finally going to settle down and have kids of his own. She and Dick make the normal, perfect life look easy. They were brave and strong enough to walk away from the vigilante life, only promising Bruce that they’ll help him every now and then and only for big emergencies.

Jason couldn’t believe it at first. Dick and Barbara just happily moved to a safe, typical suburban but luxurious home far away from Gotham. They made it look so effortless and picture-perfect.

With Dick and Barbara gone, all Jason has is Tim and Damian around. Which isn’t much considering they have their own lives.

And Jason used to have Y/N, his best friend.

Before Jason’s thoughts could consume him more, he pulls up to the private parking garage at his penthouse. After he parks his bike, he climbs off and removes his red helmet; quickly inhaling air after sweating so much. Holding the helmet underneath his left arm, he carries the pizza and DVD and heads to the elevator.

He sighs heavily; his back hurts like fuck after being thrown around a lot from Killer Croc. He wonders if it would be completely sexist or just entirely fucked up if he asks Danielle for a backrub.

We’ve been together for two years. She knows my line of work, and if she really loves me, she’ll give me an all-body massage...and besides...this is the first time I’m asking for one anyways, he thinks to himself.

The elevator dings and opens for him; revealing the private floor that is his, courtesy of Bruce. If it weren’t for Bruce, Jason wouldn’t have the luxury of such a private and quiet place to call home. Bruce owns the entire building, mostly business associates and employees live and stay here anyways.

Jason walks to the door and opens it; is actually quite stunned that it’s unlocked. Mostly because he’s OCD about that, even if this floor and this entire building is private, Jason still likes to take precaution.

The guy fucking grew up on the streets and has seen and done bad things. Really bad. But he’s not like that anymore. Oh, no he’s not. Now, Jason lives by his new principles, but that doesn’t mean he’s not a badass anymore or is violent by nature. He is still Jason Todd.

Stepping inside his penthouse, Jason kicks the front door shut with his heavy boot and sets the pizza and DVD on the entryway table. He puts his helmet back on and quickly pulls a gun from his thigh holster. Jason takes this seriously, just as with any mission or recon.

He quietly goes down the hallway, immediately notices their bedroom door is cracked open and a light is on. He raises his gun and says...

Fuck it. I’m going in with my gun. Hope this all ends well with no blood.

Jason kicks open the bedroom door and has the most fucked up, perfect view of his girlfriend, Danielle, in bed with another man; a man who is on top of her, fucking her underneath the covers, IN THEIR BED!!!!!

Danielle gasps in surprise. “Jason! What-what are you doing home so early?!” she panics. She sits up and pushes the man off of her. Her tits are on display, after the blanket falls from her chest.

The male brunette is shocked at seeing Jason. The naked man uses the sheet to hide his lower body. Jason thinks this guy is a fucking tool. He’s shaking badly, and he’s sputtering like an idiot.

“Oh, oh God! This is Jason? You’re with fucking Red Hood? Oh, my God...OH, MY GOD! This guy is gonna kill me, Dani! He-he has a fucking gun in his hand! I’m gonna fucking die!” the man cries out.

“SHUT YOUR GODDAMN FUCKING MOUTH, YOU PIECE OF SHIT!” Jason yells from underneath his helmet. The voice changer that’s built into his helmet makes him sound more dark...even demonic. But Jason could care less about anything and everything right now. All he can think about is beating the shit out of this guy. “WHO THE FUCK IS THIS?!”

Danielle runs a hand through her messy long red hair, and sniffles. She’s actually...crying?

“This is Paul-”

“Don’t fucking tell him my name! Jesus Christ! Are you trying to get me killed?!”

Jason aims his gun and shoots near Paul’s head. The loud, piercing sound fills the room. The bullet hits the wall, but nonetheless scares the shit out of Paul.

Paul covers his eyes and cries. “Of fuck...please don’t kill me. Oh God, please don’t...”

Jason removes his helmet in anger and throws it down. His green eyes are already red-rimmed. He won’t admit he’s crying...God no...his allergies must be acting up.

“So, what the fuck, Dani? You’re seriously sleeping with someone else?” Jason asks, rhetorically of course. “In our house...underneath our covers...in our bed?!”

“Jason, please. I-I didn’t want you to find out this way,” Dani says.

“But you wanted me to find out?” Jason snaps, suddenly moves closer to the bed. Paul moves backwards away from him. “You wanted me to find out, but just not this way? JESUS CHRIST, DANI! What the fuck were you thinking?! Why the hell would you do this to me, after everything we’ve fucking been through!”

“Because you weren’t here! You weren’t here tonight!” Dani yells.

“What the hell does that mean? You decided to cheat on me because I WASN’T HERE TONIGHT?!”

Paul slowly stands up with the sheet. “Maybe I should leave...” he mumbles.

“How about I show you the way out, BUDDY?!” Jason spits out. He grabs Paul’s throat and drags him across the bedroom.

“DON’T HURT HIM! PLEASE DON’T HURT HIM, JASON!” Dani cries out.

Jason was seeing red. He couldn’t see or think straight at all. With a huff, Jason slams Paul down to the floor and drops down to beat the fucking shit out of Paul. His fist keeps coming down hard and fast, and he definitely ignores Paul crying, pleading for him to stop. Jason even ignores the sight of a lot of blood and bones cracking underneath his punches.

“STOP IT! JASON, STOP HURTING HIM, PLEASE!” Dani screams in horror, pulling Jason back by grabbing his leather jacket.

When Jason finally stops, he realizes Paul’s face is almost disfigured because of the blood and swelling, but he doesn’t care. At all.

Jason shoves Dani away from him and glares down at Paul. “Here’s what’s going to happen, Paul. You’re not going to open your fucking mouth. You’re not going to tell anyone about my home. You’re not going to tell anyone about me. Your injuries? You’re going to tell everyone you got your pansy, white ass jumped in an alley and that you obviously lost the fight. And you’re going to walk out of here naked. You’re not going to look at Dani, not talk to her, not even think about her, you’re just going leave. NOW.”

“B-but what about my-my clothes?” Paul stutters.

Jason quickly collects all of Paul’s clothes and opens his bedroom window. He pulls out his lighter and lights the clothes on fire. Jason drops them over the railing. “You don’t need them. After fucking my girlfriend in my home and in my bed, you bet your homewrecking sweet ass that you’ll be walking home in nothing but shame and remorse. Now, get the fuck out of my house before I break your legs next.”

“Yes sir. I’m sorry, sir. No one will ever know about this,” Paul rambles on as he struggles to stand up. Once he does, he quickly leaves the bedroom but not before mumbling. “Why couldn’t she date Green Lantern or-or Batman. Wait! Not Batman! Anyone but Batman and Red Hood!”

As the front door slams shut, Jason turns to face his naked girlfriend, Dani. He feels his chest tighten, causing a pain he hasn’t felt since he was a kid and lost his mother and home. He wants to cry in front of her, maybe even scream at her, but all the anger he felt before is gone now. Jason’s only left with a sense of sadness and he doesn’t even know what to do about it.

The silence is killing them. He’s no fool. He can see she’s trying to hold herself together but is failing immensely because she’s looking up at him with those sad, puppy dog eyes.

But a thought quickly crosses his mind: only Y/N’s puppy dog eyes make him give into her. Every time. Y/N’s Y/C/E eyes weakens him, and he always wants to please her when she looks at him.

But Dani’s eyes don’t. There’s no sense of comfort and warmth in them like Y/N’s.

“I’m...I’m so sorry, Jay,” Dani begins.

“Don’t call me that. You don’t get to call me that anymore,” Jason interrupts angrily. He doesn’t even know why she’s apologizing. He knows he can’t forgive her. He won’t forgive her.

Dani scoffs. “You can’t seriously be pissed off at me. You’ve fucking cheated before. You’ve slept around like Bruce does. You can’t fucking hold this against me! I gave you a chance!”

“You’re forgetting that I used to do that!” Jason yells. He runs a hand through his messy dark hair and growls under his breath. He needs someone to calm him down. He needs someone to tell him everything’s going to be all right. He needs the comfort and warmth only one person has: Y/N. Jason realizes he needs her now more than ever, and that scares him a bit. “I haven’t done any of that shit since we’ve been together. The second I realized that I was in love with you, I changed. I changed because I wanted to be with you! And you bringing up my past to try to justify your actions is fucking wrong, Dani.”

“Cry me a fucking river, Jason,” Dani spits out.

“Nope. Not this time. Get the fuck out of my house.”

Dani doesn’t put up a fight. She gets dressed, packs a bag of her things, and tells Jason she’ll be back for the rest later. She does glance at him one last time before she walks out though.

“The thing is...I needed my boyfriend, not a hero.”

The door slams shut, leaving Jason frozen in place. The silence is deadly; he can feel his thoughts racing and screaming loud in his head.

He needs Y/N.

Jason needs his best friend.

Tears force themselves out his eyes as he calls Y/N.

“Hello?”

Jason pauses, and he wonders if he’s making a mistake. Maybe she won’t come. He hasn’t been a particularly good friend to her lately. “Y/N, I need you. I...need you, please...”

“I’m on my way.”

Jason knew he was in deep shit after he finished off a new bottle of whiskey before Y/N came over. He couldn’t help himself. After he hanged up with her, he ripped off his costume and stripped down to nothing but his white Calvin Klein boxer briefs. He felt like he couldn’t breathe, even after lowering the thermostat to 62 degrees.

Perhaps the end of his real first serious relationship was suffocating him mentally and physically. He’s never lived with a girlfriend before either.

He was about to open a new bottle of whiskey just as the front door opens and closes.

“Jason?” Y/N calls out.

Jason whips around fast and grins. He’s buzzed, but not quite drunk yet. “Y/N!”

Y/N is stunned to see Jason in nothing but his underwear as he runs to her and embraces her hard. She stumbles back a bit, but he captures her easily to steady her and holds her tightly to his chest.

“You’re soaked...and cold,”

“It’s raining outside like it always does,” Y/N giggles and gently pushes Jason back a bit. “Let me take off my coat and get warmed up.”

Jason allows her, watches intently when Y/N takes off her raincoat. She’s wearing her black and red plaid pajama pants and a Metallica t-shirt he’s positive she stole from him. She kicks off her booties and displays her light blue fuzzy socks he adores.

Jason knew Y/N had to have been in bed when he called, but she came anyway. She always comes to him because she’s always there for him.

She’s always been here for me, hasn’t she? Why haven’t I seen it before? He thinks to himself.

Y/N smiles softly and reaches a hand out to Jason. He takes it, almost hypnotized by how he does anything she wants. She leads them to the couch, but not before she sees the pizza box and DVD on the entryway table. She raises an eyebrow at him.

“That...was my failed attempt at romance tonight,” Jason admits sheepishly.

Y/N shakes her head, but still smiles. “It doesn’t have to go to waste. We can eat the pizza and watch the movie, right? I mean...only if you want to, of course,” she says.

“Only with you, sweetheart.”

Y/N releases his hand and quickly grabs the pizza and movie. She meets him in the living room where Jason’s already sitting down. She smiles and puts the DVD on. But before she sits beside him, she heads over to the kitchen. She returns with two cans of soda and napkins.

Jason looks down when her soft, small hand reaches out to him...only to take away the unopened bottle of whiskey. “No more tonight...please.”

He can’t help but nod his head. She’s right, he’s had enough to drink. He can’t numb his feelings and thoughts anymore. That’s why when Jason starts crying, he doesn’t feel embarrassment or anything. Y/N’s seen him at his best and worst; and she’s still here no matter what.

The movie is playing, but they’re not watching it. Jason can’t even hear it. When he looks up to see why, he can only see Y/N looking at him.

She doesn’t ask why he’s crying. Jason knows Y/N’s caring nature is all about comfort and understanding. That’s why he doesn’t move or say anything when she scoots closer to hug him. The second she wraps her arms around his neck, he cries freely. He embraces her; allows her scent of cinnamon and sandalwood calm him down.

Jesus Christ...has she always smelled so good? Fuck...this perfume is making me hard right now. Jason shamelessly thinks to himself.

“It’s okay, Jay. What you’re feeling right now, it’s not forever. You won’t feel like this again anytime soon. I promise,” Y/N whispers. She runs her hand through his hair. “I’ll always be here for you. Always and forever.”

Jason opens his eyes and pulls back to see Y/N. Clarity finally hits him. His heart beats faster when he looks down to her soft lips and back up to those puppy dog eyes, that he loves so much. She looks back at him with the same intensity, he wonders if she recognizes what he’s just realized.

“You’ve always been mine, haven’t you?” Jason whispers.

Y/N smiles as she runs both her hands up and down Jason’s chest. “It took you long enough to see it,” she answers.

“I’m a fucking idiot,” he says, nodding his head in agreement.

“No, no you just made a mistake and now you’re going to give me what we both deserve,” Y/N says softly.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Jason finally kisses Y/N. He wanted to slam his lips against hers, but he knew she deserved better than that. He takes his time and allows their mouths to move together, so they can really feel each other. But the second Y/N opens her mouth for more, Jason can’t say no and deny her that.

He tastes her as thoroughly as he can, but he wants more. He pulls away and asks her with his eyes. When she nods her head, he gently pushes her back onto the couch and climbs on top of her so their pelvis’ touch appropriately.

“I would take you to my bed, but I have to burn it because it’s seriously fucked up, doll,” Jason says in between his kisses. “Another man’s cum is stained all over my blankets...in case that’s not clear enough, Dani cheated on me.”

Y/N caresses Jason’s cheek and gently smiles at him. He was expecting her to cuss about Dani or get uncomfortable about talking about what happened, but Y/N did neither of those things. Her eyes said it all.

“It’s okay,” Y/N whispers. She leans up a bit to kiss him. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Jason closes his eyes and sighs. Y/N was here, and she’s not going anywhere. And that’s all his heart needs to move forward.

When he opens his eyes, Y/N sits up a bit to take off her t-shirt. She’s braless. Jason’s sharp intake of breath is evident when he can’t take his emerald, green eyes off her perfect tits. Jason helps her remove her pajama pants, along with her panties and socks.

His cock is painfully hard in his underwear. Seeing Y/N’s naked body underneath his is giving him all sorts of naughty ideas, but he knows what he really needs right now.

Y/N knows, too. She bites her bottom lip and pushes down Jason’s underwear, revealing his hard cock. She briefly takes in how thick his dick is and how delicious the precum is smeared across the head.

“I promise I’ll take my time learning what you taste like and what makes you cum. I just...I just need to feel...” Jason struggles out, but when Y/N touches his chest, he inhales deeply. “I need to feel warm. I need to feel...you.”

Y/N nods and looks deep into Jason’s eyes. “Feel me, Jay. I want you to feel all of me.”

Jason bravely pushes his cock inside Y/N’s pussy. He closes his eyes and breathes hard. She was everything he was hoping for. He loved the way her walls were tight, warm, and wet. He lowers his forehead to hers and he bathes in the way she moans. Jason pulls back a bit to look down at her; he smiles at the way she bites her bottom lip and throws her head back.

“Fuck...Jay move, please,” Y/N moans.

He’s more than thrilled to do her request, especially when she moans out his nickname only she can call him.

Jason moves his hips. His cock shifts in and out of her steadily before he thrusts deeper. Y/N wraps her arms around him and meets his thrusts so his cock can hit her g-spot. Jason was proud at that moment for having a cock shaped well enough to hit Y/N’s g-spot; he desperately wants to make her cum so hard.

“Oh, fuck...you feel so good, princess. Do you like taking my cock like this?” Jason moans out.

Y/N moans and wraps her legs around Jason’s waist. “Y-yes! Your cock is so big. Please go harder. I-I want to cum!” Y/N cries out.

“Fuck yeah, I’ll fuck you harder! I want you to cum with me! I want to feel you cum on this big cock!” he’s panting, he’s giving her everything she wants.

Jason fucks her harder, slams his hips against Y/N’s body. He’s already on the verge of cumming, but he can’t help it. Y/N’s moans are affecting him. Her tight heat is hitting him harder than ever. He knows this’ll be over any second, but he promised her he’ll take his time when they do it again...maybe for round two tonight.

He lowers a hand to rub her engorged clit as he thrusts faster. He’s so close. He’s so close to a hot release and he wants her to cum with him.

“Cum with me, princess. I want to feel you cum so hard,” Jason pants out, his thrusts are crazy and uneven.

Y/N raises her hips so Jason thrusts five times to make her orgasm. She cries out his name. She cums hard and all over his cock. Her walls tighten around him, and she’s sure her body goes into shock. When Y/N looks up with lustful, hazy eyes, she sees Jason’s face contorted in amazement at her.

More than satisfied, Y/N pinches her own nipples and bites her bottom lip. She wants Jason to cum now.

“Cum in me, Jay. Fill me up with your hot, delicious cum. Mmm...I can’t wait to taste it. I want to suck your big, hard cock next,” Y/N says seductively.

Jason’s face adorably scrunches up as his release hits him. He thrusts a few more times, cumming hard like she did, spurting every drop of his cum inside her. His moans drive her wild. He breathes heavily and continues to ride out his orgasm until he has nothing left to spill inside.

He pulls out and drops beside her, but quickly holds her so she doesn’t fall off the couch.

Because just imagine getting a concussion after having an orgasm.

Y/N hums in the afterglow of sex with Jason. She rests her head on his chest as he rubs her back. He kisses her forehead softly. He feels more than okay now but knows there will be plenty to talk about after the sexy haze fades.

Thoughts of living in the countryside flash into his mind. Watching that sunrise, with Y/N’s in his arms, and she’s carrying their child in her womb.

That perfect life appears real now. His dream doesn’t seem impossible to achieve. With Y/N there, everything seems possible.

“Are you okay now?” Y/N asks softly.

Jason grins and looks down at her. He doesn’t quite know what to say but figures he should try.

“With you in my arms, I’m fucking perfect, princess.”

[irumatheassassin]

Chapter 16: "The Assassin Who Would Be Blood Adopted"

Balam: (*surprised*) Wow.

Bachinko: (*surprised*) Damn Iruma.

Kalego: (*surprised*) Iruma... what are they doing here?

Iruma: U-Um...

Soi: I called them here Professor Kalego, Iruma didn't do anything.

Ameri: We want to help Iruma with the ritual. As the student council president I want to ensure one of our former members will get through this process smoothly as do the rest of us members.

Student Council: Y-Yes!

Alice: As his soulmate, I shall always be by his side!

Clara: And be sure to keep him safe!

Lied: So don't worry, we'll all be there to help him. Right guys?

Misfit Class: Yes!

Dali: And we teachers must look out for our students.

Teachers: Of course!

Kalego: (*whispers to Soi*) Do they even know why the ritual is even happening in the first place?

Soi: (*whispers back*) No sir, I made sure of that. Originally I was only going to ask President Ameri and the Misfit Class but... a lot of things got out of hand. But the more hands to help the magic support, the better chances Iruma will live.

Soi: (Not to mention how ridiculous it was from just a mere talk with the President ended up like this...)

Kalego: (*whispers*) I suppose that's true. I never seen the Blood Adoption ever had this many helpers before.

Kalego: (Not many demons are kind enough to help another demon go through such a ritual and the people who do normally die from magic imbalance. Then again, I suppose it's Iruma we're talking about here.)

Sullivan: I see we have more than enough helpers. Now then let's all go inside shall we?

----

Opera: (*already made the ritual preparations*) Kalego-. (*sees everyone come in*) Are they all here to help?

Kalego: Yes. Now let's not waste anymore time.

Iruma: (*looks to everyone and smiles*) No matter what happens today, I just want to say how grateful it was to met with you all. I'll always treasure our time together. (*looks to Professor Kalego*) Thank you, Professor Kalego for doing this.

Kalego: Iruma... You are the most troublesome student I ever met. But... I too am grateful to have met you. No matter what happens, I'll always be you father in the end.

Iruma: Thank you...

Iruma & Kalego: (*walks into the circle as both of them cut both their palms and give each other blood ritual marks on their face to finally have both sides hold hands to connect the cuts together*)...

Sullivan, Opera, Bachinko, The Student Council, The Misfit Class & The Teachers: (*surrounds Kalego and Iruma outside the circle holding hands as they concentrate their power to the circle*) ...

Kalego: (*eyes closed*) Blood chains bound the other to me. Rise beyond destiny, change it to be mine. Let me take this one as my own, pour sins, power and darkness. Bear my family bloodline as your own and be reborn!

----

Iruma: (*opens their eyes to see themselves in a dark void*) H-Huh? Where... am I? Last I remember was... doing the ritual... Oh gods! Did I die just now?!

Iruma (Wicked Phase): Not exactly.

Iruma: Me?!

Iruma (Wicked Phase): Of course, I am a part of you. The same as those two.

Iruma: Two?

Ali: Iru-boy, you finally woke up.

Iruma: Ali? Then who's-.

Delkira: Hello Iruma Suzuki, we finally get to meet.

Iruma: Wait a sec-! You're the guy I saw at the Harvest Festival! I wasn't hallucinating that!

Delkira: Yes, at that moment my soul connected with yours and I became a part of you. Allow me to properly introduce, I'm the former Demon King Delkira.

Iruma: D-D-D-DEMON KING?!

Iruma (Wicked Phase): Yeah, it's better to not mention it to the others about this. Well maybe the old man and that Poro guy.

Ali: True. But even still all 4 of us won't see each other again afterwards.

Iruma: Huh? Why not?

Ali: This is a blood adoption ritual, meaning you'll be having Demon DNA and magic stored into your body, essentially becoming a half demon. Well, me, Irumean and Delkira are made of demon magic, so we'll be combined with that magic. The ring will break and all four of use will be one whole being.

Iruma: So you'll be gone forever, Ali...

Ali: Not in a physical sense, but we'll be fused, so we'll always be literally together. You'll have my abilities, gain Irumean's phase and personality as well as Delkira's power and memories.

Iruma: The Demon King's... memories?

Iruma (Wicked Phase): (*all four are fading*) Looks like we're out of time.

Delkira: Iruma, I know we just met each other and haven't really bonded as much but can you promise me something before we all say goodbye?

Iruma: Sure?

Delkira: Tell Sully I'm sorry for putting him through so much. And tell Poro that I was happy to have spend my musical days with him.

Iruma: ...Okay, I promise.

Ali: Farewell everyone. It was nice to see you all.

Iruma, Iruma (Wicked Phase) & Delkira: Goodbye.

----

Kalego: (*shaking Iruma's lifeless body*) Iruma! Iruma! Wake up dammit! Son! I'm sorry! Just dammit! Wake up and tell us your okay!

Opera: Kalego...

Iruma: (*the ring breaks as Iruma's body begins to glow intensely with magic*) ...

Everyone: (*shocked*) ?!

Kalego: What's happening?!

Sullivan: The ritual... has been completed.

Balam: But the ritual-.

Sullivan: You guys did everything correct, the only thing to hope was that Iruma's soul was strong enough to handle the ritual. And now he's going the through with the rest of the transformation.

Iruma: (*grows two sets of black feather wings faded with dark blue to purple, his hair and eyes is also slight faded to purple, with the eye shape now like a demons with black tattoos covering most of his body, and his ears and teeth are now slightly pointy too*) RAWWWWWWRRRR!!!!

Sullivan: (This power... is that...)

The 13 Crowns & The 2 of the Three Heroes: (*also sense Delkira's power in Iruma*) W-What the-?!

Poro: (*elsewhere as he senses Delkira's power inside Iruma*) D-Delkira?!

Iruma: (*magic finally subsides and Iruma falls back asleep in Kalego's arms that caught him, with the wings going back into his new wing roots and the tattoos disappearing*) ...

Kalego: Rest son... You did a great job today...