#Maybe part 2

[ghostbsuter]

Wonder MOM ( part 1 )

Happenings/mentions of:

Child abuse, possible trafficking, kidnapping and blood!

Nothing is explicit.

.・゜-: ✧ :-

Someone was in that cage.

Controlled anger aside, Batman made sure his footsteps were to be heard, speaking slow and calm as he approached and slid off the cloth.

"Everything will be okay now, are you–?"

With the cloth aside, Batman got a good look at the unconscious person inside.

He knows that face.

Thats—!!

"B! B, can you hear me?" Oracle calls, considering no one else seems to talk, he assumes Barbara put them into a private line.

"I'm here, Oracle." He answers easily, hands gripping the lock and fishing out the familiar pick-locking equipment.

"You went silent for a moment there, B, we got worried."

He gives a grunt at that, ripping the cage bars open and carefully checking for a pulse.

It's there, barely.

"Oracle, call Agent a to prepare, I'm bringing someone over."

"Got it. B, be careful, please."

Bringing the teen, the same age as his youngest, out of the cage seemed a bit harder than thought.

With some manoeuvring and carefully placed feet, the big Bat brings them both out in one swoop, tight on his hold.

His head rolls to the side, groggily blinking awake and peering up to Batman.

"Batsy?"

"Sleep, I'm getting you out of here."

"...knew you'd find me." Messy black hair hides the way he squishes his own face into Batman's side.

"Mom's probably very worried..." he gives an awkward laugh, throat dry and burning with the move.

The movement and warmth lulled him into sleep quite easily.

(Batman's expression, even if stony and blank, covered in a dark veil, anyone can see the carefully hidden layer of fury.)

—

Patrol was cut short that night, the boy in Alfred's care, and Bruce didn't hesitate calling Diana immediately after.

"Hello—"

"I found him."

Diana, Wonder Woman, remained silent upon the response, a quite inhale echoing through the call.

"They brought him all the way to Gotham?"

The man nods despite knowing Diana wouldn't see, giving a verbal answer after.

"I have a report of all injuries he has been subjected to. I'll send you the list."

There is a moment of silence before a sharp hiss from Diana comes through.

"They took his blood–?!"

"Not much from what Alfred gathered, but enough to get a running supply for their... plans."

"I'm coming over. Bruce, you and I both know the dangers of his blood in the wrong hands."

"Let's discuss this once you're here, Diana. Safe travels."

With a click and the call ended.

One look, and he has the eyes of most birds and bats on him already.

"The boy. You know him." Damian steps forward, arms crossed and cape off. The others must have come back not long ago and eavesdropped on his conversation.

"I do."

(The fact he doesn't elaborate nor does anyone either speak up is quite hilarious, wasn't it for the situation.)

The silence goes on, eyes sweeping over Stephanie's furrowed, thoughtful expression, Tim's calculating gaze, cass's curious yet open body language, duck's suspicious raised eyebrow and Damian's 'I dare you' scowl.

At least they didn't wake duke with their commotion.

"What's going on?" Jinxed, Duke himself comes down the stairs in his sleeping clothes, yawning.

"Duke, you're supposed to sleep."

"Sorry, sorry, apparently family drama is happening, and they needed more support." He jerks his hand towards the gaggle of vigilante children(1)/teens/one adult that is only an adult because of age laws.

Bruce suppresses a sigh.

There's a giggle to the side which gathers the attention of everyone.

Around the same height of damian, slightly thinner, is the teen B rescued not long ago. And who should not be awake either.

Alfred gives a smile, arm out stretched to support him on his way to the batclan, eyening his form with tapt attention.

"Batsy!" Ignoring the snorts and coos, Bruce nods back.

"Danny." The kid grins broadly, approaching.

He gives a wave to the other, attention solely on Bruce however.

"Is my mom coming?"

"Yes, she is on her way."

"Wonderful!"

He claps, arms bandaged to his throat, sickly pale and absolutely looking like prime adoption bait.

Cass approaches, hands ready to sign the most wnated question of everyone in the room and Bruce is already feeling the words of denial at the tip of his tongue.

'New br—'

"No."

Cass isn't backing down, expression only getting more determined.

'Honorary brother?'

He doesn't stop the sigh escaping, especially when Danny jumps up at the words with glee.

"Yes! Honorary!"

She seems very pleased with that, holding her hand out for a silent request, qnd once approved, gave a nice headpat.

"I'm actually surprised you didn't tell your kids of me, batsy." Danny side eyes the man, grinning mischievous.

"It slipped my mind."

(No, he doesn't break under the gaze of every person's disbelief stare directed at him. He stronger than that.)

(B did avoid meeting anyone's eyes tho.)

"Wait, so who is the moth—"

A green portal opens in the middle of the cave, and it has the most tense and drawing weapons.

Wonder woman stepped through.

"That answers my question then."

"Mom!"

Diana swooped him up, holding him closer and ducking her head into his black hair.

The Lady peers up at Bruce with a smile. "Thank you."

Her attention shifts to the child. "Frostbite will be expecting us, are you doing good enough to walk or should I–"

"I'm okay! I can walk!" Danny puffs his chest to prove it, giving her a reassuring smile.

Diana's brows knit together in worry. "Very well." She accepts, reluctant. She leads him to the still open veil of green, nodding towards pennyworth and both bid their goodbyes.

For now that is.

The portal closes.

"So, how were we originally supposed to know about Diana having a son??"

"HIS MOM IS WONDER WOMAN????"

"I'm so glad this isn't another adoptive brother. Honorary is good enough."

"HOW COULD YOU KEEP THIS FROM US, B!!!"

"Does that mean we have a miniature Trinity of the originals?"

[kinzhae]

"Left Behind."

Gojo x Reader, angst with no comfort, reader and gojo drifts away as they enter jujutsu high, being left behind, reader sacrificing her life in order to keep gojo safe.

The first time Satoru left you behind, you brushed it off.

“Gojo Satoru is going to change the world,” you told yourself, smiling as you watched him walk off with Suguru Geto and Shoko Ieiri, his laughter echoing down the hall. His carefree attitude was infectious, and while you were happy for him, it hurt to know that you weren’t part of that laughter anymore.

It hadn’t always been this way. You and Satoru were inseparable once, bound by childhood promises and shared dreams. Back then, the world wasn’t complicated, and neither was he. The cocky smile he wore now was once reserved just for you.

But Jujutsu High changed everything.

---

You noticed the shift slowly. It started with missed conversations—whispers in the hallway you weren’t invited into, a glance over your shoulder to see him too far behind to call out to. Satoru didn’t mean to push you away. You knew that. But as his new friendships deepened, it became clear that your bond wasn’t the unbreakable connection you once thought it was.

Suguru was kind, brilliant, and calm—the perfect foil to Satoru’s chaotic energy. Shoko had a quiet wit that matched his sharp tongue. Together, the three of them felt untouchable, like the rest of the world could only stand by and watch as they carved their own path.

You were no longer part of that world. You tried to let go, you really did.

Even as the ache settled in your chest, you told yourself it was enough to simply watch him thrive. If Satoru was happy, wasn’t that all that mattered? You repeated those words like a mantra, trying to ignore the sting when he barely noticed you anymore.

It wasn’t his fault.

It wasn’t anyone’s fault.

But the cracks in your heart didn’t care for reason.

One day, everything changed. You were heading back to the dorms after a long day of training when you overheard the conversation.

Two voices in the shadows.

One familiar, one chillingly foreign.

“Gojo Satoru. The Six Eyes... He’s too dangerous to keep alive,” hissed the first voice—a higher-up whose name you didn’t dare utter. “The balance he disrupts, the power he wields... If he continues unchecked, no one will be able to control him.”

“And what do you propose?” growled the second voice, raspy and cold. It wasn’t human.

You froze, your blood running cold as you peeked around the corner.

“I want him gone. Do it cleanly. I’ll ensure you have what you need—resources, bodies, whatever it takes. Just make it happen.”

The curse smiled, sharp teeth glinting in the dim light. “Consider it done.”

Your world tilted.

They were going to kill him.

Satoru.

The boy who laughed too loudly, who stood by you even when the world felt too heavy, who once promised you that you’d always be by his side.

You had already been left behind. But you wouldn’t lose him. Not like this.

That night, you sought out the curse.

Its presence was suffocating, the weight of its aura pressing down on you as it materialized in front of you.

“And what do you want, little sorcerer?” it sneered.

“My life,” you said, your voice steady despite the terror clawing at your throat. “Take my life, my powers—anything. Just leave Satoru alone.”

The curse’s laughter echoed around you, harsh and mocking. “Anything, you say? Bold. And what makes you think I’ll honor such a deal?”

“Because if you don’t,” you said, lifting your chin, “I’ll make sure you regret it.”

A lie, of course. You were no match for it. But the curse seemed amused enough to agree.

“Very well. Your life for his. But once the deal is struck, there’s no turning back.”

“I know.”

As the curse’s claws reached out, you closed your eyes, picturing Satoru’s smile one last time.

You disappeared that night.

No one saw you leave. No one even knew why. You left behind nothing but questions and an empty dorm room, your name slipping further from their lips as the days turned into weeks, then months.

Satoru didn’t notice at first. You hadn’t been close lately, after all. But as time passed, he started to feel the absence.

It was subtle at first—a glance around the training field, expecting to see you standing at the edge, watching with a small smile. Then came the ache, the nagging sense that something was missing. He asked Shoko, then Suguru. Neither had seen you.

When he went to your room, it was stripped bare, as if you had never existed.

Satoru wasn’t the sentimental type, but the emptiness you left behind gnawed at him. He tried to brush it off—he was Gojo Satoru, after all. He didn’t dwell on things. He didn’t need to.

But late at night, when the silence grew too loud, he found himself thinking of you. Of your smile. Of the way you used to scold him when he pushed himself too hard. Of the way you had always been there, steady and unshakable, even when the rest of the world felt like it was slipping out of control.

He searched. Of course he searched.

But you were gone.

---

Satoru never stopped looking. Not really. Even years later, long after the grief had settled into something dull and hollow, he still found himself scanning crowds, hoping to catch a glimpse of you.

He told himself it was guilt—guilt for letting you slip away, for not noticing how far apart you had grown. But deep down, he knew it was more than that.

He had left you behind.

And he would never forgive himself for it.

[bet-on-me-13]

Ellie worked undercover at Cadmus

So, Ellie has grown up and become an Adult living on her own by now.

She is doing her best to make the most out of her life. She went to school, graduated from College, and even got a Job.

She grew up in a Lab, and learned quite a bit about Genetic Engineering over the course of her life both before and after escaping (Both from Vlad, and from Danny during that Point in time where they were trying to permanently stabilize her).

So, when she gets an offer to join a new start-up Company called Cadmus, she jumped at the opportunity to use her Knowledge to help others. (She was told it was a Research Company that used Genetic Engineering to make medicines)

It wasn't until she had already signed the NDA that she figured out that this was an Illegal Cloning Lab.

Thankfully, she was immune to the Mind Control that they had tried to use on all of the Scientists to make them okay with all of the illegal shit, but she still had to play the part so she could help the poor clones who would be created in this project.

She went Undercover for years. Any time a Clone was deemed a "Failure", she would try her best to save them. She did manage to save a few, sending them to Danny so he could help them find a home, but unfortunately she couldn't save them all.

After a few years, the other scientists began to stress out. The K-Series had been a total failure so far, and none of the Clones had even come close to being Viable. Even the most successful one, identified as Match, couldn't come close to being called an actual success.

So, they went a different route. If Kryptonian DNA didn't want to be Cloned, then maybe they could splice it with some other DNA and force it to work with them?

The Scientists began splicing Human DNA into the Genome, running trials to see if it would be Viable at all before even attempting to create a Full Clone. And they did find some success, preliminary tests showed that Human DNA was uniquely adaptable when it came to splicing, and theoretically it could be used to make a Fully Viable Clone!

When Luthor heard of this, he deemed that nobody aside from himself was worthy of being the "Father", and gave his own DNA to the Scientists to use for the Experiment.

Ellie was put in charge of transporting the DNA to the Lab, but in a random accident (we both know it wasn't, Clockwork), she ends up dropping the Sample. In a rush, she just puts some of her own Blood into the Vial and gives it to the Scientists working on the Gene Splicing Project. (She was panicking, ok?! Nobody would be able to work in a lab like this without getting a little bit of anxiety, and she hadn't gotten a wink of sleep in days at that point!)

They are thrilled! They don't know why, but Mr Luthor's DNA was so much better at Splicing than any other Human DNA they had ever tested before. He was certainly right about his own DNA being the beat suited for the Job!

Ellie meanwhile is having a bit of a meltdown. She can't believe she just gave them some of her DNA! And they already used it to make a Fetus! She's a mother now! She never wanted to be a Mom!

But she guesses that none of that matters anymore. She's has a son now, and she needs to get him out of there. But how to do it? As the only successful K-Series Clone, he was under the most heavily guarded security imaginable, so there was absolutely no way she would ever be able to sneak him out of there. Even if she used her powers, the Security was primed to scan for any and all foreign energy signatures, even Ecto Energy.

So for now, she was stuck. She couldn't break him out, and she also couldn't just leave the Company and let them abuse all those poor clones like that! She just needed to wait for the right opportunity to get her son out of there, even if it meant that she would have to stay behind.

It wasn't until a team of errant Sidekicks broke into the Lab a few years later, that she had a way out for her son.

[kats4you]

matt sturniolo / reader

fem!reader | text story | angst w/ comfort

idk trying something new?? realistic messaging. starts off a bit strong but honesty goes a long way

——— ˗ˏˋ ★ ��ˊ˗ ———

[corynation]

Ink

theo nott x reader

tags : angst, sadness, i love him i promise

His owl to meet him at the astronomy tower wasn’t a worrying moment. His usual “amore mio dolce” greeting melting your heart instantly. Without any fail each time you saw it the same fuzzy feeling in your chest accompanied by the burning of your cheeks arose. His heart at the bottom of the letter sending flutters that coursed throughout your body, pure bliss consuming your brain, leading you to rush to get ready. Throwing on your favorite sweater of his and some leggings you headed out quick, not wanting to keep him waiting for long. Your body perfectly magnetic to him, aching to attach to him, tugging you further and further through the castle as fast as you could.

Theo stood against the railing, looking out amongst the lake. The moonlight casting down on him perfectly. Messy soft curls shining, skin glowing against his white button up. He turned around at the sound of your footsteps, his eyebrows knitting as if he wasn’t expecting company, demeanor instantly softening the moment he saw your smile.

“You sure don’t waste much time.” He grinned, walking towards you and grasping your waist.

“I missed you.” You whispered, arms wrapping around his neck. “Haven’t seen you in a few days.”

“I know,” He began, his voice softening in remorse. “I’m sorry cara, my father called me home.”

Your chest tightened. His father didn’t often call him home, and when he did, well it wasn’t for any reason out of love to say the least. A hand fell from his neck to his chest, gently rubbing comforting circles, instinctively knowing he needed it.

“Is everything okay?” Your question was softly asked, not knowing if this was territory that should be touched.

“Of course,” He smiled warmly as his hand caressed your cheek, trying to ease your concerns. But, as always, you saw past the smile, his eyes telling you everything you needed to know. They had been still and cold, sunken into his skin with a purple tinge, his eyelashes stuck together like they had recently been wet. “just some family business. Nothing to worry about.”

“Theo,” You began, trying to push him.

“Hey, don’t worry about it alright? Everything is okay.” He placed a gentle kiss to your lips, holding you so close to him like you were the only thing allowing him to live. Kissing you so deeply as if you were his air. It was intoxicating. Wiping your brain clear, your body becoming warm and tingly.

He pulled away from you slowly, resting his forehead on yours, breathing you in as much as he could. Perfume invading his senses driving him half insane. He held you as close as possible, needing this moment with you needing you.

“I missed you so much.” Theo sighed against your lips. His soul finally able to rest around you.

“I missed you too.” You smiled, grabbing his forearms to pull his hands away from your face.

The further you pushed his arms away the further his cuff fell loose, slowly snaking down his arm. A flash of black on his skin caught your eye, your eyebrows furrowing tightly. Theo hadn’t mentioned a new tattoo, but then again he had been with his father so it very well could’ve been anything other.

“Theo what is-“ A gasp fell from your lips, your grip on his arm collapsing as you got a better look at the mystery ink. Your chest tightened as your heart sped up, basically pounding out of your chest. His eyes met yours with nothing but fear, his body freezing in the moment. The both of you staring at each other like statues across the museum galley from one another, time standing still, the world becoming silent around you.

Theo tugged his shirt cuff down, his hand finding your shoulder with a tight grip. “Y/n its not what you think please.” He pleaded, his eyes beginning to swell.

“Thats a dark mark Theo.” As if it wasn’t obvious. But it was all you could say. Your brain only comprehending the fact of what it was, not what it meant. You couldn’t see past the object, past it being on his skin. Theo’s dark mark. Theo’s dark mark.

You’d never seen one in person before. Never even come near to someone who had been a part of that. Sure you’d come to terms with knowing you were soon to run into one, probably having to fight for yourself. But never in a million of those thoughts did you think the person who you saw the most would have one. The one person who despised the look of it the most.

The sting in your stomach wasn’t from the fact of, but for Theo. God knows how often he thought about the inevitable moment his father would force him to do it. How in the few moments of vulnerability he’d breakdown in your arms, worrying he’d turn out like one of them. That he’d be one of them.

It was one of his biggest fears. Oftenly keeping him up at night, instinctively making him claw at his own skin like a rabid animal. Feeling as if he didn’t belong in the flesh that oh so closely resembled those of who he feared the most. He never wanted to turn out like them. Like his family.

Like his dad.

“I had no choice. I had to do it.” He choked out, his voice thick. His gaze fell from yours. Cheeks scrunching and eyes narrowing in attempt to hold back tears.

“Oh Theo,” Your voice was barely a whisper as you threw yourself against his chest, holding his head down into your neck. His arms wrapped around you tightly, chest heaving sporadicly. You felt the tears fall onto your skin, his walls breaking down faster than he was prepared for.

But he wasn’t prepared for any of this.

“I had no choice, I’m so sorry.” He kept repeating through sobs, barely able to catch his own breath. His grip around you never wavering once. You held him close, rubbing his back gently and stroking his hair to try and stabilize him.

“I know love I know. I am so sorry they made you do that.” You whispered in his ear. Peppering kisses where you could without moving his face from your shoulder.

“I don’t want to be this person. I don’t want to be like them.” His voice is what broke you most. Never had you heard it so coarse, his throat raw from the choked sobs leaving him. “I didn’t want this. I didn’t want any of this.” He continued, his voice weaker. His voice was giving up. He was giving up.

You let the silence around you two swallow you. The words that should be said not coming to mind, hoping your touch was enough to replace them.

What does one even say in a moment like this?

Theo’s grasp on you loosened, his hands falling to your sides as he backed away from your embrace. Concern consuming you as you watched his face tighten, the facade of a cold and distant Theo appearing.

It felt like a dagger was stabbed in your stomach.

It all felt like a dagger to your stomach.

But this, this part of him returning after spending so long trying to break him free of it whilst around you. That is what brought you to your breaking point.

Anger and hatred coursed through your veins, your blood boiling at the mere thought of what you wanted to do to Theo’s dad.

“You need to leave me.” Theo’s voice was cold. Direct. His fingers digging into your skin, holding you so tight, not wanting to let you go despite his words.

He didn’t want any of this.

“No, don’t you say that.” The dagger was turning, your body screaming in pain.

“It’s better for you.”

“You don’t really believe that.”

“You aren’t safe with me!” His voice raised, his anger about the whole situation finally coming out. His face softened as your body grew frigid, apologetic hands holding your face. “This, this changes everything. You know what they do, what they go through. I can’t put you in that danger.”

“You aren’t going through it alone Theo. I’ll be fine okay? I can hold for my own. We’re going to figure this all out together.” Your hands found their place above his, fingers interlocking.

“I won’t sacrifice your safety. I love you too much to let this affect you in any way.”

“And I love you too much to let you do this.” His eyes searched yours, trying to find something to tell of the future.

“Y/n please.”

“Theo! Listen to me! Im not giving up on us over this! Some part of us knew this would happen at some point. I understood it when I went all in. And Im all in! I’m with you in this! Let me be with you through this!”

“You’re going to end up hurt.” A stray tear fell down his cheek, eyes pleading to you.

“And I’m willing to take that risk. I’d crush my soul over and over again if it meant I’d get to have my happiest days with you. I will sacrifice my being for you to be the one I take my last breathe seeing.”

Theos eyes scanned your features, uncertainty washing over his face. He took a deep breath before pulling you close, lips smashing into yours. The kiss was hungry, passion filling you both whole. His touch burning into you, souls intertwining like the stars within a galaxy, dancing with each other under the moonlight. He pulled his lips away, just barely brushing over yours as he spoke.

“I’m so sorry ciccina.” And he was off. His gaze straight, never turning back to you as he walked into the tower, the door closing behind him with a loud bang.

You stood frozen, eyes blurring and legs weakening. Your mind completely blank of any thoughts just knowing you were hurt. So deeply indescribably hurt. A piece of your heart off and away without any hesitation.

Theodore Nott, the reason for your hearts beating, breaking it away from you, his grasp on it tight. That piece always belonging to him. Haunting him of the memory of you. His two demons interacting within the same night, both forever stuck with him until his last breath.

gonna be honest this once had a happy ending but then i got stuck and was like nah

ANYWAY FIRST HARRY POTTER FIC LETS GOOO

[imandriebitemepls]

Miles willing let his sunflowers wilt

Miles falls, disgusted at himself.

Miles looks numbly at his 42 variant, his 42 prowler variant. Someone who deserved the life he mistakenly stole from him. Someone who Miles' most likely would've become, and now he feels as if he also took that from his variants hands as the numbness turns into a tired rage he's had ever since becoming Spider-Man's replacement, all those nights spent hating himself and doubting his existents all together. A existents he traded a life, the same exitance watching his uncle die because he was a mistake. A non-spider man with abilities most spiders didn't have. An anomaly, a monster, a freak of nature and universes across universes. The original anomaly.

Then, suddenly he hears what his variant spits out at him, obviously upset at the creature wearing his face, the same creature Miles' 42 mom saw, the same creature he very much still alive 42 uncle saw, the creature who 42 Miles' dad could've saw if Miles' hadn't been the fuck up he always was.

Tired rage spills back into numbness with even more hopelessness since he saw the other(rightfully) spiders, leave his universe with so much sadness and hurt, even his body hurt more than he thought it could handle without, at the very least, bleeding out.

He couldn't live anymore. Yes, physically he's still here but the Miles' he had been before being bitten had died, and he mourned his innocents death before he put on a carefully made mask around any and everyone who had met Miles' and who would potentially others he might meet as well. That part was the easiest since those people didn't know him before and even easier since he barely met any friends or even acquaints.

He understand why this Miles', deeper but very much still him- (no) he thought- (not him Miles' could never hold a candle to any and every Miles' every universe offers, he's a mistake.)

"Who are you and why do you look like me?" 42 Miles' states more than questions his counterpart.

"It doesn't matter, you won't believe a single word that comes out my mouth" 42 Miles' bristled at the non-answer and Miles' knows he deservers the truth since he looks just like him, only with a few differences, and is probably worried about how they got his identity and if this creature knew more beyond his looks.

Miles' sighs as he mentally prepares himself for the onslaught of questions and hateful gazes

"I am Miles' Morales from a different dimsention, I was bitten by a radioactive spider not from my universe but from this one instead. The night I got my powers I saw my dimsention version of Spider-Man aka Perter Parker. Since my universe already had a spider and its very own Spider-Man, I was deemed an anomaly only a few hours ago while being chased by every Spider-Man on earth 298, your earth being 42 and mine being earth 1610," Miles' pauses for a second to gauge their reactions, and as he expected they looked as if the creature in front of them was crazy mixed with an expression of curiosity of this batshit insane talk was going to lead.

Miles' continues until he get to the part of his uncle variant dying in his arms as all he could do was cry for a few moments until his dad saw him and he had to flee.

Surprised at the whole baffling situation, and Uncle Aaron being dead instead of 42 Miles' father in this universe. Learning how he had painted a mural for his uncle, noting similarities with earth 42's world as well as finding out Miles dad was gonna die- (again) 42 Miles' thought sourly- only to find out why the spider society was chasing him to begin with, noting how monstrous of his own people who know how it feels to deal with loss, and made him share their pain- (pain he'd already seem to have 2x more of before his 'friend' spider leered him to be hunted, again)- Miles' thought as he stared blankly at the section between 42 Miles' and his uncle, his rightfully alive uncle.

Not noticing the tears that spilled from his eyes as he continued his explanation. His voice finally cracking when he all but slurs out, "There's no way to save my dad, my home, my world. Because even if I can go back home there's still a interdimensional villain out to destroy everything I love and most likely my dimension and more." he wails as he feels the painfully familiarity of grief he could've stopped, but it seems all and every universe is trying to kill or hurt him since he unintentionally took lives that weren't meant to be taken from 1610 universes gentle hold, killing coldly them as soon as he was bitten.

"If maybe I died instead of uncle Aaron things would be better, if I had just never been born everyone would be here still. Maybe Miguel was right I'm a mistake, there's no hope no one is on my side, not like I deserves it. the deaths I've caused by just being born is too many with very little lives I've saved at this point. My world is dying and I might as well let my cells be destroyed by this universe for every person that now has to suffer here and getting my universe killed, the least I can do is die a slow and panful death for the actions I can never atone too.."

42 Miles' and Aaron look on at the broken boy with petrified faces eyes widening when they see him distort and slump forwards as he passes out glitching like a glitch in a game.

[hinamie]

10 years later

[chloesimaginationthings]

Mangle wants to join Foxy’s crew in FNAF 2,,

[wallamaybungya]

You always hear the story of Peter Pan. The second star to the right. It's ingrained in your head, as your mother swears by the 'second star to the right' that she saw Peter Pan on one occasion. She raised you to be a good daughter, better than her, hoping one day, her daughter would someday get the adventure of a lifetime.

It did happen one day. Peter Pan knocked on your window. Your mother's words flew through your head, and you opened it. And he took you by the hand and carried you.

You were so close to the second star—the one to the right that your mother forced you to dream about.

But your eyes were drawn to the left star. No just your eyes, your body ached after it. Why did you feel so? Your mother always told you about the right star. She never let you stray from your "destiny."

But whereas your mother always said, "Second star to the right," your father said, "Make your own path." Your father was lost at sea many years ago, but he wouldn't have followed a stranger to a predestined dream.

You broke from Peter's grasp and tumbled into the first star to the left. And you fell. And fell. And fell. Like Alice down a rabbit hole, you fell for what felt like hours. Until finally...

You fell with a thud. You looked up to see a man with ash gray hair staring down at you, fire in his eyes, and surrounding you.

"I don't normally get the children," he whispered.

Deciding to take the song “The Devil Went Down To Georgia” at face value, you search for exactly where the Devil came down from. You find the exact hickory stump mentioned in the song, place a telescope directly over it, and stare straight up at the night sky. Looking up, you manage to see a pair of gates….. and they are most definitely not made of pearl.

The only question left in your mind is this: if Hell is up, then which direction is heaven?

[mizgnomer]

Parallels - Good Omens Seasons One & Two - Part One

Links to [ Part Two ] [ Part Three ] [ Part Four ] [ Part Five ]

[samble-moved]

post itself

false flags

trans/adjacent tags

accessibility features

tumblr live post (thanks for the link, @problemnyatic)

flashing / strobing / lights

unblockable flashing ad

buying ad free

staff @/macmanx guilt trip

list of staff + more issues

[kinzhae]

"I liked you back then." "I liked you too."

Kind of HC?, gojo x reader, geto x reader, nanami x reader, sukuna x reader, toji x reader, choso x reader, slightly angst(?), Highschool au!

Meeting with them after a long time you express your feelings out of nowhere.

Gojo Satoru

At a school reunion, Gojo is just as loud and charismatic as always, surrounded by laughter and old classmates. You watch him from a distance until he catches your eye and strolls over, that signature grin on his face.

“You know,” you say, feeling oddly brave, “I liked you in high school.”

His grin wavers for the briefest second, but he recovers quickly.

“You’re kidding,” he chuckles, though there’s a nervous edge to his laugh. “I liked you too.”

The room feels a little quieter, his words sinking between you like a weight. He adjusts his sunglasses, his usual confidence cracking.

“But you’re too late, huh?” he says softly, his tone bittersweet. “We were just kids back then. I wouldn’t have deserved you anyway.”

Geto Suguru

You meet by chance at a bookstore, the smell of old pages making you nostalgic. His long hair is tied back now, and he looks older, more tired but still achingly familiar.

“I had feelings for you,” you admit suddenly, unable to stop yourself. “Back in high school. Did you know?”

He sets the book he’s holding down slowly, turning to face you.

“Yeah,” he says quietly. “I knew.”

You blink, startled. He looks down, a rueful smile tugging at his lips.

“I liked you too. More than I should’ve. But I was already dealing with too much back then. I couldn’t drag you into it.”

His words sting, but there’s also a deep sadness in his voice, like he’s still carrying that regret.

Nanami Kento

You meet at a mutual friend’s wedding. Nanami looks as polished and composed as ever, but there’s a softness in his eyes when he sees you. During the slow dance, you find yourselves reminiscing.

“You know,” you say, your voice trembling slightly, “you were the first person I ever really liked.”

He stops in his tracks, looking at you with an intensity that makes your heart ache.

“I liked you too,” he admits, his voice low but steady.

You stare at him, tears pricking your eyes.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you ask.

He sighs, his gaze dropping to the floor.

“Because I was too focused on my future,” he says bitterly. “On trying to be the perfect student, the perfect man. I thought I had all the time in the world.”

He meets your eyes again, the regret evident in his expression.

“I didn’t realize how much I’d lose by waiting.”

Toji Fushiguro

You spot him at a small bar in your hometown, his leather jacket slung over the back of his chair. He notices you too, and for a moment, it’s like you’re both teenagers again. You approach, and the conversation drifts to the past.

“You know,” you say quietly, tracing the rim of your glass, “I liked you back then. You probably didn’t notice.”

Toji lets out a low chuckle, his voice rougher than you remember.

“Didn’t notice?” he repeats, shaking his head. “You kidding me? Of course I noticed. I liked you too.”

His confession catches you off guard, but there’s a bitterness in his tone.

“But look at me,” he says, gesturing to himself. “Even now, I’m not what you deserve. I wouldn’t have been good for you back then, and I’m sure as hell not good for you now.”

Choso

You’re cleaning out your old high school desk, buried deep in your parents’ attic, when you find a folded piece of paper. It’s a sketch of you, one you recognize instantly as Choso’s work. The memory stays with you until you run into him by chance in the city weeks later.

“You used to draw me,” you say, holding the old sketch out to him. “Why?”

His cheeks flush, but his expression remains serious.

“Because I liked you,” he says simply, his voice quiet. “I didn’t know how else to say it.”

You feel a pang in your chest, regret washing over you.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you whisper.

He shrugs, his hands tightening into fists.

“I was scared,” he confesses. “I didn’t think you’d feel the same. And if you didn’t… I didn’t want to lose what little I had with you.”

Ryomen Sukuna

It’s late at night, and you’re walking home when you spot him smoking under a flickering streetlight. He looks almost ghostly, the light casting sharp shadows across his face.

“I thought about telling you,” you say hesitantly, stopping a few feet away from him. “Back in high school. How I felt about you.”

He exhales slowly, the smoke curling in the air between you.

“You didn’t have to,” he says, his voice low and gruff. “I already knew.”

The raw honesty in his tone leaves you speechless.

“I liked you too,” he admits, his eyes burning into yours. “But I was a mess. If I let you in, I’d have dragged you down with me.”

He flicks his cigarette to the ground, grinding it under his heel.

“You deserved someone better than me. You still do.”

[antiwhores]

You accidentally had sex with Bakugou.

You two had fallen asleep in his room after a hang out. You were bestfriends but you had some underlining feelings for him. So when you woke up in the middle of the night to him cuddling you, you almost choked.

You needed to pee really bad so sadly you had to pry yourself out of his arms. When you came back his eyes were cracked open just barely. He mumbled something before opening his arms for you to join him again.

It was out of character, maybe tired Bakugou was just a touchy guy. It couldn’t be more than that.

So you joined him on the bed. You buried your face into his neck. You had to savor this cause most likely this’ll be the last time this happens. Also, you were too tired to freak out. You just wanted to fall asleep in his arms.

You can barely explain what happened after that. He hiked your leg onto him, still with his half open eyes, and thrusted right against your clothed pussy.

The next thing you know, he’s dry humping you. And then he’s fingering you. And finally he’s fucking you.

It felt good, too good.

But the morning after? You felt embarrassed. No way you just fucked him without even a first date. He’s gonna think you’re easy. He might even tell everyone that you are.

Of course, that would never happen but you were panicked. You couldn’t possibly comprehend that the great Dynamight chose you. You weren’t famous. Not a vogue model, a hero, or even wealthy. You had nothing to give him.

He had to be messing with you.

So you slipped out of his hold at 5am sharp and went home.

You fell back to sleep in tears and woke up to several texts and calls. Good thing you had your ringer off.

Bakugou - 6:34am

Where’d you go?

I was gonna make you breakfast dumbass

Bakugou - 6:52

Y/n?

Missed call - 7:00am

Bakugou - 7:30

Is this about last night?

I’ll wait for that call back so we can talk about it.

Missed call - 10:03am

Bakugou - 10:05

Call me and we can talk about it. This ignoring me isn’t gonna make it go away.

Missed call - 11:12

Missed call - 11:26

Missed call - 11-31

Bakugou - 11:40

Fucking call me back, this shit isn’t funny.

You’re so lucky I don’t know where you live yet. I’d be there in 15 minutes if I knew.

You debated calling him back. But your embarrassment and anger stopped you from letting him explain himself. How could he use your feelings against you like that! He probably knew that you liked him and wanted a quick fuck.

You started to cry all over again.

A week passed by with no contact. He sent you the occasional text telling you to talk to him but after the 6th day he seemed to give up. At least you thought that until he showed up at your door.

You opened the door wide without checking who it was since you were expecting a package. Your eyes widened when you noticed the blonde leaning against the doorframe, still in his hero costume. He must’ve just gotten off work, saving civilians and climbing the charts. It was another reminder of how he could never want you.

“You gonna let me in or am I-“

You tried to slam the door in his face but he shoved it back open easily. He let himself in, scanning the place.

“Nice place, ‘don’t see why you hadn’t invited me over.”

Maybe it’s because your small, cosy apartment didn’t compare to his high rise penthouse at the top floor.

You grabbed his arm and tried to pull him out. But he wasn’t having it and didn’t let you move him an inch.

“You need to leave, Bakugou.”

“Wow. Last name basis and I was inside you a week ago.”

“Yeah well that shouldn’t have happened.”

“Okay but it did so let’s fuckin’ talk about it.”

You just wanted him to leave before you bursted out in tears. You shook your head, trying to pull him harder but to no avail. Your lip quivered in frustration as tears welled up in your eyes.

Suddenly, he threw you over his shoulder and set you on the couch.

“Tell me what’s wrong.”

You broke down in tears.

You told him everything, every assumption you made and every insecurity. You told him how you liked him but you knew he didn’t like you back. He sat there patiently, not speaking a word until you were done.

He got up with a blank face. You thought he was gonna leave at first but he kneeled down to be eye to eye with you.

“Wanna go on a date?”

It surprised you. It was the last thing he expected you to say.

“I’ll take you on a date and prove to you how much I want you. And for the record, I’ve probably liked you longer than you have me. When we met in that coffee shop I immediately knew you were the one I wanted. ‘S rude of you of you to make assumptions but I’ll let it pass if you go on a date with me.”

You agreed as he wiped off your tears. Who were you to say no?

[xxlumos]

*smooch*

[shouyuus]

counting stars

violet; 4,988 words; hurt/comfort, fluff, slightly suggestive moments, no "y/n", wlw (duh), self-indulgent to the point of lunacy, lots of kissing, mentions of bodily harm (not self-inflicted), teeth-rotting fluff mostly, popstar!reader x vi au

summary: when vi shows up at your door, what to do but to let her in?

a/n: bc nothing bad is allowed to happen to vi in my fictional world(s). and also im literally cackling ofc the fic that ppl r the least interested in posted first is the one that i post first; i guess i just like to be contrary but also i want to spoil vi and this is the only way i know how

─── Ⅵ SHE SHOWS UP UNANNOUNCED, split lip and bloody knuckles, leaning against your doorframe on a thursday night; you answer the door in your sheer pink nightgown and fluffy slippers, a bottle of rose chilling in a bucket on the table.

“vi?”

“hey princess —” she clears her throat, her smirk going lopsided as she tries to hide a clear wince. a bead of blood seeps out the corner of her mouth as she sucks in a shaky breath, “miss me?”

your lashes flutter with worry as you step aside to let her through — there’s a distinct limp to her gait that she can’t quite hide with her usual swagger.

“what happened?” you ask, letting the door click shut, following half a step behind her as she drags herself into your penthouse flat, letting out a low whistle as she looks around.

“nice place you got here. fits though, pretty castle for a pretty princess —”

“violet…”

you reach out with delicate fingers, taking slow steps forward; she hisses out a breath, her eyes sharp and wild as a wounded lion’s, her mouth a blunt-edged slash as she swallows, gaze flickering between your fingertips and your face as if she’s unsure what you might do.

she winces as you rub a light thumb along her cheek; your finger pulls away red.

“sorry —” the word rips from her at your touch. her eyes drop, her whole body shakes. “i — i didn’t know where else to go — and i — i remembered seeing that stupid 100 questions video you did here for —”

“for the fashion magazine, yeah,” you say, your voice soft as a baby’s breath. your hand lingers, a palm against her cheek. she leans into your touch, the movement small as heartbreak, but just as heavy.

“c’mon, lets get you cleaned up.”

you let your hand trail down her arm till your fingers link, and you lead her to you expansive couch, pressing her down firmly even as she frowns at her grime-covered clothes against your pristine white sofa.

“i’d offer to pay for dry cleaning but —”

you cut her off with a sharp look.

“don’t you dare. and plus, i’ve been meaning to change up the upholstery forever.”

you grab a bottle of vodka from the top shelf and a box of cotton balls, plopping down across from her on the couch in a flurry of pink-colored satin, inching forward till you’re nearly parked in her lap.

vi’s eyebrows hike as you pop the top off the vodka bottle, a grin twitching at her lips.

you roll your eyes.

“it’s not for drinking —” you soak a few cotton balls in the vodka even as vi’s expression falls. you lean in; vi’s hands find their way to bend of your waist, settling there as you daub gingerly at the blotches of drying blood on her face.

“ouch —” vi winces dramatically as you press down on a particularly deep cut, her lips pushing up into a pout, “not even a little bit? might help dull out the pain —”

she cuts off as you swipe a thumb along her bottom lip, breath hitching as you frown slightly, making to tug away for a fresh cotton ball.

“don’t — don’t leave —” her voice comes out harsh, desperate. you still, expression softening impossibly.

“i’m not,” you say, patient. she finds her fingers digging into your hips but you only smile. “i’m not going anywhere. promise. but i do need another cotton ball.”

she worries at her bottom lip, and already, you can see the fresh blood collecting in at the corner of her mouth. you press back into her space, wiping the blood away. her entire body slants towards you, her shoulders tight, her arms flexed, as if she’s bracing for a punch or a kiss.

you nudge her nose with yours, lifting up ever so slightly to press your lips to her forehead.

the dam breaks — all the pieces falling, her head tipping forward onto your shoulder, her hands wrapping around you tight, and then tighter. you feel yourself being hauled into her lap as she buries her face in the crook of your neck, a sound caught halfway between a gasp and a sob wrenching from her throat.

“f-fuck — shit —”

there’s heat to her skin, the roughness of her bandages, fraying at the edges, the worn-in material of her pants, the damp streaks of her hair tickling your cheek. her breath is uneven as it splays out against your collarbones, and when she finally tugs away to wipe at her face with the back of her hand, looking anywhere but at you, her lashes blink away wet.

“sorry — god this must be real sexy, right? mm — fuck —” she sniffles, shaking out her hand, her other one coming up to caress your cheek. her gaze is unfocused even as she skims her fingers over your skin. “god, you’re so soft. it’s like you’re made of — of marshmallows or something —”

you catch her hand with a tiny sigh, letting your gaze flicker over the bloodied bandages before you rub a thumb along an unmarred patch of skin.

“and you can be too. if you ever wanted to learn.”

she goes quiet then, the bravado bleeding from her as you continue your quiet work of cleaning all her varied injuries, disinfecting the cuts and bandaging the bruises. for the most part, she stays quiet, offering up the bloodied parts of herself for your perusal without resistance. it’s only when you shift back or make to tug away for a second that she jerks forward, resolute in her all-consuming need to keep you close.

“there. that’s about as much as i can do right now,” you say, heaving a sigh as you brush away several strands of black-pink hair from her face, letting your thumb skim over the tattoo on her cheek.

“thanks.” her voice comes out slightly hoarse, her eyes cutting away from you for a second before flickering back.

“i’d say it’s nothing but…” you let your thumb trail down the line of her jaw, tracing over her fluttering pulse as you work your slow way down her neck, “i mean —” you let out a soft laugh, hiccupping slightly as she takes the chance to tug you even closer, pressing you to her, chest to chest, so that you have to brace both your palms against her shoulders just to keep steady. neither of you mentions the fact that her arms are shaking.

“it was a bad night,” she says. and it’s all she offers for a few minutes, but you don’t push her, content to rest against her, let her run circles into your skin with her fingers against the small of your back, her breaths evening out till she looks back up at you with a wry grin.

“let me guess,” you say, linking your fingers behind her neck, “you should see the other guy though, right?” you drop your voice in a mocking imitation; it sounds nothing like her but it manages to draw out a laugh, the sound ricocheting between the pair of you like an echo till it dissipates, leaving the air somehow slightly warmer than before.

“yeah. somethin’ like that,” she murmurs, leaning forward to nudge your nose with hers, eyes going dark.

you cup her cheeks and let her kiss you, lips on lips and gasping breaths, till her fingers are inching up the thin material of your night dress, bunching it up, her thumbs tracing the ridges of your ribs, the weight of her body pressing you back into the plush couch, far too big for the pair of you —

“v-vi — wait —” you gasp away from her, fingers tangled in her oil slick hair, her mouth trailing hot and wet down the side of your neck. she makes a grumbling sound, nipping at your collarbones before resting her chin on your sternum, her hands still grazing further and further up your nightgown.

“c’mon princess — you got to play doctor, so now lemme pay you back proper —“

“vi.” the sharpness to your voice jolts her, and a frown creases her forehead as she blinks up at you with her gunpowder eyes, her fingers now still against your skin. you puff out a breath, pushing yourself back up to cup her cheeks, squeezing them slightly between your palms.

“i don’t want you to ‘pay me back’ for anything.”

hurt and confusion chase each other in a butterfly-wing flutter of emotions across her eyes before she pulls back.

“you don’t want this?”

you fight back the urge the roll your eyes as you sigh, reaching out to tug her back, this time, it’s you crowding into her personal space, leaning in to kiss her solidly on the lips. you feel her go soft against you, her hands cupping the ridges of your ribs once more.

“of course i want this,” you murmur against her lips, “but i — i don’t want it as ‘payback’ for anything. i…” your breath catches as vi leans in to nip at your bottom lip, heat pluming up the back of your neck, cresting into your chest as you blink at her, “i want this… if you want to give it. and — and i want it because — because i want you.”

she makes a strange, pitched noise in the back of her throat as she crushes you to her, her mouth slotting over yours so desperately that your teeth clack, but when she pulls back, she’s shaking her head, resting her forehead against yours with a sigh.

“shit princess — you can’t say shit like that and not expect me to lose my fuckin’ mind — fuck —“

you let out a tinkling laugh, fingers now massaging the cords of muscle at the nape of her neck. a shiver runs through her, her lashes a sweep of ink and shadow.

“relax… i’m not going anywhere. promise,” you remind her even as she tips into you once more, a whine working from her throat into yours as her fingers dig into the supple skin of your waist, dragging you down the length of the couch till you’re pinned beneath her thighs.

she pulls away panting, your own chest a staccato rise and fall. but your eyes are steady when she finds them again and you reach up to trace her cheek.

“when’s the last time you’ve had a bath?”

the question catches her off-guard, making her jerk back slightly, a frown ticking down between her brows.

“what?”

you giggle, “a bath. like, a proper one.”

one of her eyebrows kick up, “you sayin’ i smell or something?”

you sigh, yet again fighting the urge to roll your eyes as you push yourself up onto your elbows, your pink nightgown rucked up to your thighs, your hair falling out of the messy bun you’d twisted it up into earlier that evening.

“no,” you let your voice linger on the word, pinning vi with a look, “but you do taste like the inside of a paint can so.”

her eyes narrow but she lets you wiggle out from beneath her, your fingers trailing down her arm to tug her behind you as you lead her into the master bathroom. the light clicks on and vi scoffs.

“wow.”

“pick a bubble-bath, any bubble-bath — my favorite’s the —”

“rose one?” she finishes, lifting up the nearly empty bottle of light pink bubbly water displayed on a white marble shelf full of multi-colored liquids.

you allow yourself a blush as you shrug, twisting on the taps and testing the temperature, drying off your hand before turning back towards her.

“so i know what i like. sue me.”

vi smirks in honest this time, uncapping the bottle and wafting it beneath her nose.

“mm, delicious.”

you don’t miss the licentious lilt to her voice, nor the flicker of dark, hungry light in her eyes.

you turn away, leaning across the vast bathtub to grab a white can.

“if you think that’s delicious — wait till you see the sugar scrub — oh!”

a pair of arms snakes around your middle, pulling you back against abs and a bandaged up chest. vi’s voice is hot by your ear as she noses into the side of your cheek.

“yeah? is it gonna make me taste less like the inside of a paint can?”

“mhm,” you say, letting your free hand rest naturally over both of hers, the other hand dipping into the sugar scrub to swipe a dollop of sticky white crystals onto her nose. she gasps, jerking back for just a second, going slightly cross-eyed before a mischievous expression eclipses her features and she hoists you up into her arms, holding you suspended over the slowly filling bathtub.

“don’t play this game with me, princess — there’s only one way it’ll end.”

you let out a bright peal of laughter that echoes around the soft marble walls, looping both your arms around her neck.

“try me.”

for a second, she makes as if to drop you, but she pulls you back into her chest at the last second, cradling you against her.

“alright princess, let’s see how good this bath is,” she says, her voice soft as she sets you back down on your feet. you lean up to give her a quick peck before taking the rose-scented bubble bath and pouring it into the swirling water.

by the time the tub is filled, the room is filled with a thin gauze of steam, and when you turn, you find vi standing awkwardly behind you, watching with one hand on her opposite elbow, rocking on the balls of her feet.

“in general,” you say, pushing to your feet, “people take baths with their clothes off.”

vi’s cheeks go blotchy, and her eyes skitter about the room.

“what, i’m just supposed to strip here and —”

her words cut off abruptly as you turn your back on her and tug your night gown from your body, stepping into the bubble-filled water, glancing over your shoulder.

“you coming?”

vi nearly trips out of her tight-fitting pants, tugging haphazardly at the bandages wrapped around her torso. when she finally steps into the water opposite you, she drops down with a soft splash, a loud groan rolling from her as her eyes flutter shut.

when she forces them open again, it’s to find you watching her with your round doe eyes, a sweet, knowing smile perched over your very kissable lips. she wonders at the heat in her cheeks, at the way it prickles at her skin, thinks to herself that it must be the steam, must be the hot water currently melting away at the knots that had braided themselves into her muscles the past few weeks, but she when she feels your calf nudging against her’s she can’t help the way her breath skids inside her chest.

“c’mere,” you motion, and vi blinks at you for a second before shifting till you’re face to face, her hovering uncertainly between your legs before you jerk your chin for her to turn around.

the bathtub is more than big enough to fit the both of you, and for a while, a comfortable quiet settles as she leans her back against your chest, your fingers dancing up the length of her arms, trailing warm water along her shoulders, tangling in the rapidly lightening tips of her hair.

the dark dye runs off her, pluming in the water like spilled ink. you steadily work your fingers through her tresses, smoothing out the knots, occasionally letting your nails scrape against her scalp.

“holy fuck that feels nice…”

you smile, washing as much the dye out as you can before rubbing your thumbs into her shoulders, feeling the tightness coiled there like springs. she grunts, shifting beneath your touch.

“y-you don’t have to do this y’know —” she tries to pull away, only to have you click your tongue impatiently and tug her right back.

“lemme know if i’m hurting you, okay?” is the only thing you say as you continue to massage her shoulders.

she softens, letting out a long sigh and a small chuckle.

“you’d have to try real hard to manage that, sweetcheeks.”

you puff out a tiny breath before digging your thumb into a particularly tender knot, her entire body buckling away from you.

“ow!” she twists around, eyes wide, even as you cast her a look that has her turning back again, but not before she flicks a bit of water at you, her other hand resting easy on your knee, bent next to her hip as she leans against you once more.

“this is the first thing they teach you how to do in a brothel,” you say, your voice light as you slowly work the tightness from each of vi’s muscles, applying gentle pressure, using the bubbles as lubricant.

“wait what?” she tries to turn around again, only for you to pinch lightly at one of her loosening knots, tutting.

“stay still and i’ll tell you the story.”

she stills, though her breath is still short, and the hand that had so recently been lolling against your knee is now stiff, her fingers wrapped around your limb as if to brace herself for what you’re about to say next.

“most people don’t know this, but i’m actually from the undercity — all my earliest memories are of the brothel, the girls there braiding my hair, or letting me sit on their vanities, smearing bits of lipstick on my cheeks as rouge. i think my mother must’ve been one of those girls once but… i never knew her. and it didn’t really matter anyway — i think… i was one of the lucky ones. at least i always had water and a hot bath when i wanted it.”

vi’s fingers tighten on your thigh before she lets up her grip, sighing as she presses her back more firmly against you.

“i’m sorry.”

you shrug, shifting a bit of hair from one shoulder to the other as you continue to dig your meticulous fingers into her weary muscles.

“don’t be. like i said, i was one of the lucky ones. but… i always knew that we were living a hard life. sometimes, one of the girls would vanish and… we’d never know where she went. sometimes, a guest would get a bit too rough and —” you let out a tiny laugh, “well i got pretty good at patching up cuts and bruises.”

you flatten your palms against her skin, running them along the expanse of her shoulders before pushing down her arms to squeeze at her firm biceps.

“there. how’s that feel?”

vi sits up, rolling her neck and shoulders with a loud groan.

“damn. that feels amazing but —” her expression softens as she reaches for you, running tender thumbs along the bend of your cheek.

“you — you don’t have to tell me this if you don’t want to.”

“i know.” you catch her hand in yours, fingers curling in. all around you, perfumed mist hangs light in the air, hazing out the already diffused lighting. “but i want to.”

vi smiles, nodding.

you take another breath. your interlaced fingers sink into the murky water.

“when i turned thirteen, they started teaching me the ropes — massages first —”

“thirteen,” vi’s voice is harsh in the mist-hung room, the syllables cracking as they reverberate against the slick tiles.

you lilt your head, “how old were you when you ran your first job?”

vi stares, her mouth agape, “b-but — that’s — that’s different!”

“is it?”

she sputters for a few more seconds before deflating, shaking her head, tugging her hand from your grasp to splash water into her face, running both hands over her eyes with a groan.

somehow, she could picture it perfectly, you with your sweet smile and darling eyes, running deft fingers over the shoulders and necks of the unnamed girls at babette’s as they talk you through how to press just so, how to lull someone into your lap, and later, into your bed.

“but like i said… i was one of the lucky ones. really, really lucky — because one day, while i was refilling the water and tidying up the rooms, a guest heard me singing and… he offered me a gig topside.” you let yourself sink into the slowly cooling water, your hair flowing in a soft halo around your shoulders.

vi watches you with an inexplicable expression on her face — half-sadness, half-wonder.

“and the rest, well —” you flick a bit of water towards her; she blinks it away before pulling you into her chest, “you know the rest. or, i mean, i don’t know if you watched that entire 100-questions video —”

“i did.”

vi loops her arms around you, hooking her chin over your shoulder.

and once again, the quiet settles around you both, hanging solid in the air like so much dissipating steam.

“all that to say…” you murmur, turning slightly to face her, searching her eyes with your own, “you don’t have to pretend with me. not with me. not when it’s just the two of us.”

you watch her eyes widen ever so slightly, watch as her lips part and she hesitates over the words hanging at the tip of her tongue.

“thanks,” she finally manages, “for… for telling me this.”

you smile, pulling back to reach for the white can, unscrewing the top.

“okay. sugar-scrub time.”

by the time the pair of you leave the bath, the water’s cooled to a tepid chill at best. you offer vi a fluffy towel, wrapping one around yourself as you pad from the room in search for some clean loungewear.

you return with a large t-shirt and some shorts, which vi eyes for a second before pulling on, her cheeks darkening as she sees you watching her.

“quit looking at me like that…” she huffs as you tug on a loose shirt yourself, pulling on a pair of pink, lace-trimmed panties.

“like what? like you deserve to be looked at?” you ask, voice even as you run a towel over your damp hair. vi crinkles her nose, frowning down at her dirty clothes, piled in a lump on your bathroom floor. you shrug.

“leave it. that’s a tomorrow-problem. c’mon, bed-time.”

vi sighs, ruffling at her hair with the white towel, staring at the gray streaks she leaves behind. she glances up to find you standing by the bathroom door, a hand outstretched behind you, waiting.

she licks her lips before tossing the towel over her pile of clothes and reaching out to take your hand.

your bedroom is dark, lit only by the scatter of city lights from beyond your windows. through it, the city is a pulsing maze of tiny lights and spectral towers. you pause, glancing towards the skyline with a sigh.

“it’s a beautiful view,” vi says, coming up to stand behind you, looping an arm around your waist. you lean into her touch, her warmth, turning slightly to find her eyes just as faraway.

“yeah,” you grin, reaching up to touch her cheek, “you are.”

she turns, blinking at you for a second before your words register. she groans even as you laugh, the sound fizzling through her till her skin prickles with warmth and goosepimples.

“c’mon. bed.” she says, and you grin, allowing yourself to be led to your own bed, pulling back the silken covers, slipping beneath and watching as vi inches in next to you, pillowing her cheek on her arm. you angle your body towards hers, letting out a long, steadying breath.

she mirrors you — one breath, then another, then another.

“thanks, princess,” she says, after a few long moments.

you shuffle forward beneath the blankets, reaching out to wrap an arm around her waist. she closes her eyes, bending her head till you’re nose to nose.

“for what?”

vi lets out a puffed laugh, her lashes fluttering open again.

“for… letting me in.”

you press you lips, your eyes searching her’s. and here, in the dim moon-lit night, her eyes shone like twin stars, bright as firelights. you inch just a bit closer, letting your foreheads press as she shifts an arm to slip around your waist as well.

you hook your ankle over hers, shimmying till you’re hip to hip, your bodies arched into each other, bend for bend. she bites down on her lip, if only to stop it from quivering. you graze your hand up her arm to rest on her cheek.

“you know you’re always welcome here.”

vi laughs, the sound strangely watery as she blinks away the hot prickle biting up the back of her throat. it’s been so long since she’s had anywhere to come back to. and here you are, offering it up to her on a gold-gilded platter.

“yeah?” she says, even though her voice shakes and she has to swallow hard over the lump in her throat as she coaxes your chin up, angling your lips towards hers, “careful… i might actually take you up on that.”

“whatever’s mine is —” your breath hitches high as vi tugs you into her, crushing your lips to hers, a thick groan working it’s way through her chest. you taste salt on your tongue, even as she trails her mouth along your jawline to suck a dark, blossoming hickey into the side of your throat.

“— yours.” you finish, spearing your fingers through her hair to pull her back, your eyes soft in the gathering darkness. vi lets out a tiny, pitched whine as she buries her face in your chest, her body curling in on itself. you rock her against you, letting her grapple her fingers into your nightshirt, clutching you to her even as you sooth your palms over her head and neck, shushing her gently.

“fuck, princess…” she says, her voice slightly muffled, “you’re tryna spoil me rotten, huh.”

you smile, letting her pull back just far enough to catch a glimpse of your face.

“well, someone’s gotta do it.”

vi chuckles, the sound rumbling from her chest to yours.

“yeah well… i’m glad you’re the one angling for the job, sweets.”

you hum, letting your eyes fall shut as vi’s grip on you loosens, and the pair of you sink into the liquid warmth of each others bodies.

vi shifts, tucking you deeper into her arms as you content yourself with sighing into her skin, and it’s an almost automatic spin-click of both your bodies, your limbs settling into and against each other, your torsos turning to just the right spot, just the right angles to fit against one another.

you settle, and feel the world settle around you — time itself seems to breathe and slacken, the evening-shaped seconds and minutes ticking each into its own place, like the teeth on a set of cogs, catching one rung into another, spinning one after the other till everything starts to hum into place.

sleep slips its gossamer gauze over your eyes and vi shifts, her lips ghosting your forehead.

“whatever gods up there that put you in my life…” she whispers, her voice tight, you make a soft noise, like a question, or perhaps a confirmation, leaning up to level your faces once more. your eyes open and vi finds her own reflection staring back at her, the shape somehow softened by your gaze, and she wonders, not for the first time, what you see in her, what you’ve always seen in her, that makes you so…

“there’s already a shrine set up for them in the living room,” you murmur, and for a second, vi stares, her own mind quiet for the first time in a long while. you smile sleepily at her confusion, nuzzling her nose with yours, “what, you didn’t know? i’d been thanking them for you since the first day we met.”

vi makes a sound like a hiccup, shaking her head as warmth bubbles through her, a champagne-colored shake-fizzle-pop of emotions welling up behind her eyes, making her head spin.

“well shit —” she grins, tugging you ever closer, “you’re always one step ahead of me, aren’t you princess?”

you hum, carding your fingers through her hair as she settles against you once more.

“mhm,” a tired little yawn, “and maybe tomorrow morning, if you’re feeling up to it —”

“yeah?” vi’s voice is soft, is sweet, is almost reverent as she kisses the skin of your sternum, her lips lingering right beneath your collarbones.

“i could show you some of the other things i picked up at the brothel.”

vi groans, her fingers digging into your hips at the tantalizing thought.

“mm, you mean other than giving people amazing shoulder massages?”

you laugh, and outside, a large neon sign flickers off, tossing the room into a deeper, richer dark.

“yep. but for now…”

“sleep?” vi asks.

you nod, watching as her eyelids flutter shut, and you let yours do the same. your fingers find hers beneath the blankets; your palms press and she gives you a tiny squeeze. you squeeze back and smile.

“sleep.”

[knightofleo]

Angela Orosco Silent Hill 2