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vulpisnocturna · 1 year ago

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Binding Vow - Part III

This is the last part of Binding Vow 🤍

Part I

Part II

Read on AO3

I do not condone this behaviour. This is purely fictional. Please read warnings and avoid if you find any of them triggering.

Warnings: Stockholm Syndrome, Chrollo being a pretentious bastard, Chrollo mansplains, Emotional Manipulation, Controlling behaviour, Yandere Chrollo, Kidnapping, Captivity, Reader is struggling, dubcon, NSFW

Word Count: 7.6k

You were insane. You were deranged, and spineless and pathetic. Waking up with Chrollo’s arm holding you to him, possessive and stifling as always, you had actually felt good about it. You, the captive, the prisoner, the trophy possession he had decided to steal for himself. You had liked his touch, and had felt comforted by it. You had wanted the moment to last forever, that feeling of being in Chrollo’s good books and not having to fear for his next move. If you just accepted it, liked the physical reaction of your body, did what he wanted, it was so much easier.

The past two weeks after your escape had almost been... peaceful. Chrollo hadn’t punished you, and so long as you sat on his lap, made out with him and spoke to him, he was gentle, kind and lenient. He was waiting for you to sleep with him, not forcing himself on you, even though you weren’t sure you would even push him away. After all, kissing him felt so disgustingly good. Human contact felt so comforting, and you deserved to feel good, right? You had lived in torment for months now, and now that you had a modicum of normalcy, of happiness, it was normal to want to keep it. It was normal to want Chrollo to be happy. If Chrollo was happy, or whatever the comparable emotion was for someone like him, you were safe, comforted, treated kindly.

But this was Chrollo. Did you really want Chrollo to be happy, to show you that shit-eating smug smirk of his? To get what he wanted?

No. This wasn’t about Chrollo at all. This was about you. You were just looking out for yourself. Escape was impossible, and you would not get any mercy from him a second time even if you tried a second attempt. This was about self-preservation. This was about building a life for yourself with what you had. In that way, wasn’t this also brave?

‘Good morning, my love’ his husky voice reverberated in the crook of your neck, and he placed a gentle kiss on your shoulder, holding you closer, fingertips stroking your stomach. You tensed up a little, but did not attempt to push him away. Good mood. He was still in a good mood. You had learnt to tell his moods apart even though most of the time his face was blank or smug.

He turned you, stroking your hair and smiling at you, his eyes gleaming with some kind of emotion you were unable to name.

‘I was thinking that you have been so good for me lately, darling. I am willing to put behind the whole mistake of your escape if you continue to be so lovely and sweet. And, I was thinking I could take you on a date today. How does that sound?’ he asked, and you tried to contain the way your chest felt light with gratitude. He was willing to take you outside? Apart from your botched plan of escape, you hadn’t been outside for more than two months. You wanted it so badly. You needed it. Needed to see the outside world, needed to stretch your legs, to breathe in the clean air.

‘Uhm- where?’ you asked, still reticent about sounding too enthusiastic. This was still Chrollo, you reminded yourself. Still your kidnapper.

But... he was willing to take you outside. Even if you had tried to escape.

‘If you don’t feel up to it, we’ll stay home, of course. Don’t push yourself’ he said, stroking your cheek. Your breath faltered. No, you needed it.

‘No- I want to!’ you stammered, scared he might just be taunting you. It would destroy you if that was true. But Chrollo simply gave a soft laugh.

‘Relax, darling. I knew it would make you happy. We can go to an art gallery, and then, have some dinner before we come back’ he said, fiddling with the strap of your silk tank top, one of the many flimsy clothes he had bought for you, ‘however, there are some guidelines. They’re non-negotiable. But, if you follow them, you can expect to go on many more outings in the future’

Rules. He was giving you rules. You already had a feel for what he’d say, but you honestly did not care. So long as you got to see the outside world, you would do anything. Besides, trying to escape under his watchful eye would be impossible, especially since escaping when he was supposed to be away for hours had proven itself to be a complete disaster.

‘First, do not try to run from me. You know what would happen if you did. Do not ruin your streak, darling. Second, make no attempts to ask anyone to help you run from me. If you did, I’m afraid I would have to dispose of them, and you do not want that to happen, do you? Third, you must tell me if you are uncomfortable at any point. Do not force yourself to endure discomfort just to be outside. If you wish to go home at any point, we will, no questions asked. Fourth, I want to choose your clothes. It’s only fair, since I know the dress requirements of the place I plan to choose. Alright?’ he said, scanning your face.

You had expected the first two rules, and you did not even question them in your mind. Of course he would say that. But the third? Why would you feel distressed about being outside? It was all you ever needed or wanted. But you supposed you could accept, since it wasn’t going to happen. Chrollo had a nasty habit of picking your outfits anyway, it wouldn’t change anything. As revealing as he could make them, you could put up with it, if it meant you got to go. You doubted his nasty jealousy would allow him to make you go naked outside.

‘Okay’ you only said, and he smiled.

‘Good’ he smiled, kissing your forehead. Again, the fact that you did not flinch surprised you. He had kissed you so much in the past week that now, you saw it as normal. It shouldn’t be. But it was. And it meant you were going outside.

‘We’ll have breakfast outside. I’ll shave and have a shower in the main bathroom. If you wish to have one too, you can use this one. Unless you wish to join me’ he said, voice roguish and tempting, despite the fact that it only brought a grimace and a burning feeling on your face.

‘I’ll take this bathroom’ you muttered sourly. Chrollo did not seem fazed in the slightest as he stretched like a cat and lifted himself off the bed.

‘As you wish, darling’ he said, heading towards the wardrobe. You didn’t even want to see him leer at all the outfits he’d bought you, you didn’t want the anxiety of wondering if he’d pick one of those skimpy skirts that barely covered your ass. So you turned away again, facing the curtains of the wide window that offered a view of the whole city.

‘There. That’s perfect’ you heard, and curiosity (or maybe it was dread?) made you turn again, staring at the sage green dress he’d picked. It was fairly modest for his tastes, you thought. The length was a respectable one, possibly reaching the middle of your thighs, and the top had a cowl neckline that would expose some of your cleavage, but not too much. You were impressed. But perhaps you should have sniffed out the trap, because his other hand was holding matching black bra and panties, both obscene, all lace and barely concealing fabric. You tensed up, your cheeks heating up, mortified rage building up inside you as you glowered at him.

‘Consider this my payment for this date, darling. It’s only my imagination that will benefit from you wearing this, anyway. Unless you plan to seduce me’ he said slyly, smirking at you. You sneered. Of course not. All your physical contact was initiated or brought on by him. You didn’t want Chrollo. You didn’t like him. He was... a prick. He just happened to be unfairly hot. And good at sex.

‘I’m planning no such thing’ you snarled, and he tilted his head, folding the clothes and placing them on the bed.

‘Then I do not see an issue. Of course, you could go without wearing any. Or we could stay home. Your decision’ he said simply, nonchalantly.

Ah. Your decision. The mockery of one, at most.

‘Whatever’ you said, averting your eyes. Chrollo shot you one last look full of yearning before he grabbed a black suit from the wardrobe along with a white shirt and a black tie, exiting the bedroom.

You buried your face in the pillow, unwilling to look too much at the lingerie. Was he genuine when he said it would only be for his imagination? Or did he want you to wear it because he planned to fuck you that night? You hated the tightening of your lower stomach at the thought.

No, you didn’t want it to happen. It was dread, not longing.

You decided to act with the impression that he would not and stood up, snatching the clothes and locking yourself in the bathroom. Chrollo had never walked in on you in the bathroom, for which you were grateful. It was a minimal respect of your privacy, but for someone who crossed almost all of your boundaries with no regard for your say in the matter, it was astounding that he hadn’t picked the bathroom lock to get to you. And perhaps because it was your safest space from him, you had never tried to prolong your time in there or hide in that room, because you did not want him to take away what little privacy you had if he was under the impression you were using it to avoid him.

Perhaps it had to do with his gentlemanly façade, the front he put on, acting as though he was in any way chivalrous. It would ruin that image if he picked the lock of the bathroom to spy on a lady. But coercing her to wear slutty lingerie and keeping her captive were perfectly gallant things to do in his fucked up brain.

Regardless, you were glad to feel somewhat safe as you took off your tank top and shorts, turning the tap and stepping under the shower head. You sighed, trying to make it quick. You found yourself scrubbing and taking extra care in making sure you were pristine, and you hoped you were doing it in some kind of performative ritual because you were going outside and seeing people for the first time in two months and a half, and not because you thought Chrollo was going to see you naked. Although he had already seen you once, and his wandering hands were greedy when he had you on his lap, wearing flimsy silky nightgowns or his shirts. He was like a centipede when he got his hands on you. It felt like he had dozens of them.

When you got out and reluctantly put on the strapless bra and the lacy excuse for underwear he’d chosen, you were both impressed and revolted by the way they both fit you like a glove. How the hell could he know your exact measurements? Though all the clothes he’d ever gotten you always fit perfectly, even though you had never tried any of them before, the fact that he knew the precise measurements of your tits was disconcerting.

And despite how much you might hate him for making you wear that lewd set, you had to admit it was undeniably sexy on you. Which only made you angrier.

You ground your teeth, slipping on the dress he’d chosen, finding that one also fit you perfectly. You even put on mascara and nude lipstick. You got out after drying your hair and putting on the ridiculously expensive perfume he’d bought for you, finding him casually lounging on the armchair by the window, perfectly groomed and dressed. The suit was much classier than his cross-riddled fur coat, and he might even seem a gentleman in it. Well, except for the stupid cloth on his forehead. As out of place and ridiculous as it should have looked, it did nothing to make him look any worse. He only stood out more.

His covetous eyes raked your figure, his lips parting slightly as he stood up, making you feel like prey under his hungry gaze.

‘You look... truly stunning, darling’ he murmured, his fingers tracing the curve of your waist and hips, his lips seeking out yours. You were engulfed by the minty scent of his aftershave and the heady, expensive cologne he always wore, creating a mix that had you squirming in his hold as he kissed you, tongue greedily tracing your lower lip. His mouth traced a feverish line to your throat, and he breathed in, groaning softly, making your thighs press together instinctively.

Was he...?

‘Don’t fear, sweetheart. I won’t trap you beneath me and rip this pretty dress off you... though you are so tempting right now’ he whispered seductively against your ear, teeth nipping at your lobe, and you bit your lip hard, swallowing a whimper.

‘You’re a pretty little thing, you know that? Part of me wants to keep you home and taste your lips again and again’ he continued, hand cupping your ass, squeezing possessively. You swallowed, your eyes widening, pulse shooting up.

‘No- want to go outside- you said-‘ you started, but was shushed by his finger on your lips.

‘I am a man of my word, darling. I said I’d take you on a date, and that is what I’m going to do’ he said, giving you one last heated kiss before he released you.

‘Now, for the finishing touches’ he said, heading to the dresser and opening a box. Gold gleamed between his fingers as he approached you, and you stared at the emerald pendant and matching dangling earrings he had picked up.

‘Did you steal those?’ you murmured, and he let out a soft scoff.

‘Does it matter? Which one would make you feel better?’ he asked, gathering your hair and holding it, his head dipping as you stood in front of the mirror, frozen in place as his lips grazed your nape, sending shivers down your spine with the way his stormy eyes were fixed on you.

‘I guess not’ you breathed, and he smirked, putting the necklace on you and straightening it up on your sternum. Next, he released your hair and put on the earrings. You had to begrudgingly admit they were stunning. But that was to be expected. Chrollo liked to steal beautiful things. According to him, you were one of them.

‘Ready, my love?’ he asked, and you nodded. The shoes that were waiting for you at the door were heels, but luckily, they weren’t too high, and did not look too uncomfortable. Chrollo started to get on his knees, and you grimaced, picking up the heels and sitting on the sofa, putting them on yourself. You also took the dark coat he handed you yourself instead of letting him hold it for you. You refused to be a doll he could just dress up. He nonchalantly smoothed his jacket, seemingly unfazed by your rejection as his aura focused around his hand and his blasted book appeared between his fingers.

You stood next to him, and his hand snaked around your waist, holding you possessively as the lock clicked. The book disappeared, and he guided you outside and towards the lift.

Your fingers were trembling at your sides, and your gaze was greedy as it took in the outside world, the people walking by, your lungs filling with the clean air, your skin basking in the pale sunlight.

Chrollo led you to his car, or at least, the one he was currently using, opening the door for you and insisting on holding your hand as you sat down. He closed it behind you, circling the car and sitting down, immediately locking the door. As tempting as the thought of throwing yourself out of the moving car was, you had no intention of trying to escape, but you knew he would always take precautions anyway. Perhaps it was part of the reason why escaping him was impossible.

He drove through the city centre with a hand steady on your thigh except for when he had to change gear, but you could hardly care. Your gaze was fixed on the window, drinking in the buildings, the shops fleeting by, the statues and houses and the people walking on the pavement.

He parked in an underground parking space next to the gallery, once again feigning chivalry as he opened your door and helped you outside. You let him, because you did not want to cut your time short. You wanted to make the most of this day.

There were a lot of people in line, and to your surprise, Chrollo calmly walked to the end of it and stood there, patiently waiting. You stood next to him, feeling oddly breathless, as though your ribcage had tightened. So many people. You hadn’t seen so many people for so long. Their chattering was loud, they moved around you and you couldn’t keep an eye on all of them. Had being a captive ingrained in you the need to keep a watchful gaze on everyone around you?

You felt slightly nauseous.

‘Everything alright, darling?’ Chrollo’s voice came to you slightly muffled, and you swallowed, nodding quickly, terrified he would take you back home if you showed any sign of discomfort.

‘Too many people?’ he offered, and you focused on a spot far away under the stone arcades.

‘No. I’m fine’ you said much too quickly, your legs feeling slightly weak, to the point you had to lean on Chrollo. Was this why he’d chosen to stay in the line whilst he could have paid to skip it? Just to show you that you needed him in the crowd? To take you back home? You forced yourself to stand tall and by yourself, but Chrollo had already tightened his hold on you, trapping your side to his.

‘I wouldn’t want you to fall, dearest. We can still go home, you know’ he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. You gritted your teeth.

‘No’ you hissed, your throat tightening when you heard how hostile your tone sounded, ‘please. I want to stay, Chrollo’ you added, sweetening your voice, knowing his ego always adored the sound of your begging.

‘Hmh... you’ll need to stay close to me, dear. You seem quite fragile at the moment, so I will need you to hold onto me’ he said, his eyes smug and his smirk self-satisfied.

You pressed your lips together, wishing you could debate with him, tell him no, but his rule and the fact that he had the last say were vivid in your mind. It was his fleeting satisfaction over a day of joy for you.

You leaned against him again, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath.

He kissed the top of your head, rubbing your upper arm, moving along the line. Minutes passed, and Chrollo did not seem to want to let you go, and you did not seem to want to admit to yourself that his closeness, his stable presence holding you in the swarming crowd was reassuring.

You breathed a sigh of relief when you reached the ticket box. Chrollo bought two tickets for the exhibit, leading you towards the first room. You lost yourself reading the brochure, flicking through the different exhibits, your eyes nearly popping out of your skull as they set on Van Gogh. One of your favourite painters, and apparently, most of his artworks were now here for a short time. Had Chrollo known?

‘That is the first smile you’ve shown me that reaches your pretty eyes’ he said, his eyes glinting with some kind of genuine fondness as he stared at you.

‘You knew?’ you whispered, struggling to believe he would do something genuinely nice for you. Not something Chrollo liked, something you liked.

‘That you have a predilection for Van Gogh, or that his paintings would be here? Of course, to both’ he said, and you stared at him, suspicion extending its tendrils in your mind.

‘Are you... planning to steal them?’ you asked, eyes narrowed. Chrollo smirked, tilting his chin up and glancing at you with a sardonic look in his grey eyes.

‘Why? Would you like a specific one? I could arrange that’ he said easily, and you shook your head, disbelieving.

‘No- of course not’ you muttered.

‘A pity. If it gifted me another pretty smile, I would steal all of his paintings’ he said with something akin to reverence, stopping in the middle of the empty room to stroke your cheek, staring intently at you.

‘That’s- wrong’ you stammered, trying to vanquish his stupidly romantic display of affection. He was completely without morals nor did he have any sane conceptions of what was acceptable to do for something as trivial as a smile.

‘Why? Numerous museums have stolen artwork throughout the centuries, and somehow, that is moral? None of these museums paid Van Gogh for his artistry. They are fair game’ he said smoothly, and you stared at him, blinking in disbelief.

‘To you, everything is fair game’ you said. Chrollo smiled, fingers curling on your waist, under your unbuttoned coat.

‘Darling, you are so straitlaced. When you can appreciate something more than the masses, you are entitled to take it for yourself. Beautiful things deserve the right amount of appreciation, which most people cannot provide’ he said, and you had a vague idea of what he was really talking about in more detailed terms as he leaned over you, eyes gleaming with self-assurance.

‘Do you think any of these inane, mediocre individuals could truly love you? See your beauty, appreciate you, know you like I do? I am the only one who can truly give you what you deserve. I can give you anything’ he said in a soft, fervent voice, kissing your cheek, making your head spin with his delusional world views and the headiness of his tone.

‘Do you remember when I fucked you, darling? Of course you do. You were begging and whining for me, for my fingers, my tongue, my cock. Do you think any of these people would know how to fuck you like I do? How to make you scream and sob with need? Or maybe you don’t remember too well. But I will remind you soon. It might be tomorrow, in a few days, a week from now, but you will see. There is so much I want to do to you’ he was practically purring in your ear, voice low and inebriating, full of sinful promises that made your heart drum in your ears and your lower stomach hot with want.

Tomorrow? A few days? Then- he was going to fuck you soon. You felt dizzy, and you were not wholly convinced it was from dread.

‘You’re a creep’ you mouthed, terrified of his effect on you. If you’d been religious, you’d have thought he really was Lucifer incarnate. The temptation of the most beautiful of God’s angels really did feel real when Chrollo made it known what he wanted to do to you.

‘Oh? You think I can’t hear you mewl in your sleep, darling? God, if you knew how much control I need to exert to keep from burying my head between your thighs. Do you dream of me, my love?’ he continued, and your eyes widened, your heart skipping a beat as ferocious shame gripped your throat. No, he was bluffing. You couldn’t have... if he knew-

‘Of my ex’ you said, because he was humiliating you and you couldn’t bear his smug grin and the satisfaction and hunger you could hear in his voice.

Chrollo’s grip on you tightened, and he straightened up, his eyes burning with jealousy, but his lips curled in a nasty smirk.

‘Little liar. We’ll see’ he said, voice thick as honey, and you shivered, hugging your body as you went to look at the paintings. Chrollo followed you leisurely, like a shadow. It was as though there was a string connecting the two of you. Where you went, he was right behind you, if not already touching you.

The paintings in the first five rooms were the oldest, with gold painted on religious imagery, ugly infants and static anatomy. Still, your eyes drank the paintings in like you were dying of thirst, looking for the beauty in a world where Chrollo was the dealer of what you were allowed to see.

When you stopped for more than half a minute to stare at a painting, you had already walked through ten rooms, ignoring Chrollo’s pretentious chiming in with random historical facts and art lessons.

It was beautiful. No. That wasn’t right. It was petrifying. “Judith beheads Holofernes”, the silver plate read next to it. Artemisia Gentileschi. A woman.

There were two women and a man in the painting. One of the women was holding down the man onto a bed, whilst the other one was in the middle of slicing his head with a sword.

The world seemed to stand still as your eyes wandered around the canvas, taking in the colours, the skill, the beauty of it. But it wasn’t the artistic skills of that painting that mesmerised you. No, it was the rage. It was the sheer disgust, revulsion and fury that seeped through the blood trickling down the mattress and spurting in the air, spattering her dress. Punishment. Vengeance.

‘How macabre’ chimed in Chrollo, obviously unperturbed by the gore of the painting, ‘I did not know you had a bloodthirsty side to you, darling’

You ignored him. You’d felt that rage. That need for retribution. You knew what it was for.

‘I hope you’re not picturing doing that to me’ he said, and then sighed, stroking your hair, ‘Artemisia Gentileschi. She was raped by her father’s friend, and though she was tortured, she maintained her story throughout the trial that followed, which resulted in the conviction of her rapist. Her paintings do seem to reflect her exacting vengeance on him’

You looked at the woman in the painting, silently recognising her strength, standing in awe of it.

‘I could steal it for you if you like it so. Though I would not want you to get fanciful ideas’ he said. You couldn’t help but scoff. You could not say you were in the same position as Artemisia had been, but you understood the sentiment well. At times, you had wanted to behead Chrollo with a broadsword and bathe in his blood.

Who would have guessed that now, he was your only source of solace. That you did not shy away from his touch, that you dreamt of it.

‘I’d rather you stole me a broadsword’

‘As captivating as the sight of you brandishing one would be, I’m afraid I cannot do that’ he said, and you nodded absentmindedly. Obviously.

Chrollo bought breakfast at the art café, and you resumed the visit after that.

But nothing else captured your mind like that one painting. Well, until you got to the room where Van Gogh’s painting were displayed. If Artemisia’s paintings had filled you with respect and petrified you with their rage, Van Gogh rooted you to the spot with the sheer emotion of his art.

You could not stop yourself from smiling, and your eyes shone bright. You didn’t even care that Chrollo was staring at you like a hawk.

Again he offered to steal them for you. You denied wanting that, telling him that you wanted as many people as possible to bask in the beauty of them, and that you wanted them to acknowledge a painter who had never been appreciated in his lifetime.

‘You are so sweet, my love’ he said, holding you to him.

You weren’t sure you would not find Van Gogh’s sunflowers staring at you the next morning.

By the time you were finished with the visit, you were ecstatic. Yes, you had had to endure Chrollo’s centipede hands throughout the day, but you had seen so much, and felt alive. And he hadn’t even been too stifling.

‘I- thank you, Chrollo’ you said once you were back in the car, hoping this would happen again. He turned to you, staring at you, his usually cold grey eyes shining with warmth, his smile, for once, genuine.

‘It was my pleasure, darling’ he said, capturing your lips in a soft kiss, devoid of the hunger that usually seeped through them. One that, if you ignored the past two months and a half, would have you swooning.

He smiled against your lips, planting a kiss on your forehead and pulling out of the parking spot.

The restaurant he’d chosen was just as luxurious as you had expected from someone like him. He sat in front of you in the secluded booth, reading the menu. You did the same, tempted to get the most expensive thing just to put an indent in his wallet. Though it probably would be pocket change to him. And if not, he could always arrange stealing something to make up for the loss.

He ordered Cabernet, and you considered getting drunk to make the date with your kidnapper less awkward. But you didn’t think he’d let you down too many glasses of wine.

Still, you sipped it avidly, glaring at him when he scoffed.

‘Darling, am I such bad company that you have to drown your sorrows in wine?’ he asked, clearly a rhetorical question.

‘Yes’ you said, and he let out a soft laugh.

‘Are you sure you want to inhibit your senses around me? Considering I’m such bad company?’ he mused, sipping his wine, his pretty lips stained blood red. You put the glass down, scowling and going back to deciding what you wanted to eat.

You settled for steak, surprised to see he ordered the same. You had expected him to get something pompous like lobster.

The meal was undeniably amazing, even though Chrollo had taken it upon himself to interview you about what you’d thought of all the paintings, clearly trying to exhibit his own knowledge, which turned into you trying to one-up him. That might also have been a ploy from his part to get you to argue with him.

‘Interesting. When you’re not so nervous, you’re quite self-assured, darling. Perhaps the thought of being seen as less knowledgeable than I am is unbearable in your mind. Is it to do with sexism? I assure you, the fact that you’re a woman makes no difference to me in terms of your intelligence. Which is, of course, of the highest degree’ he said, and you groaned, staring at him and taking another gulp of Cabernet, even though no amount of wine could save you from him dissecting your brain and being pretentious.

‘Don’t psychoanalyse me. And stop trying to be a feminist icon to impress me. It rings hollow after what you have done’ you said, thinking yourself bold with your quips. Perhaps you should settle down. After all, this was still your mass murdering captor.

‘Ah. I treat you with the highest regard, my love. It wounds me to hear you be so bitter when this day made you so happy. Have I not earned some affection from your part by spoiling you today? Perhaps you need more from me’ his eyes took a lustful light, and you squirmed, shutting up. Which only earned you a smirk.

Once the bottle of wine had been finished, Chrollo got you water, claiming he did not want you to get drunk. You eyed the price on the bill, astonished that one meal could cost so much. But he merely swiped his card and closed the leather case that hid it from view, standing up and offering you his hand. You got up, walking with him outside.

The ride home was fairly silent, because you did not look forward to be back not knowing when you would get another chance at seeing the outside world, and Chrollo was focused on driving and palming your lower thigh. You looked at the sunset, lost in the orange and purple hues, completely enraptured by the beauty of it. It would be nice to stay out for a while longer, but you knew not to push the buttons. He had said art gallery and dinner, and that was what you had done. Now it was time to go home.

You wondered if he would make you sit on his lap and kiss him again tonight, as he’d done since your escape attempt. Somehow, the thought made you hot all over. Well, he had certainly seemed keen enough at the gallery, you thought, your cheeks hot.

Chrollo parked the car, leading you to the lift and back to the flat, where he locked the door with his stupid book and discarded his coat, taking yours off. You slipped off your heels, your feet sore from a day of wearing them, and started to head to the bathroom to change. If he wanted to make out with you, he could wait for you to get comfortable, as loosely as that word could be used in such a situation.

You had made it to the bedroom when Chrollo caged you in his arms, pulling you into him from behind you, getting your hair out of the way to leave languid kisses on your neck, his hands splayed on your stomach. You stopped dead in your tracks, giggling nervously, already feeling the effects of the wine and Chrollo’s touch getting to you.

‘Uhm- let me change-‘ you muttered, your eyes fluttering close when he started sucking on the junction of your clavicle.

‘There’s no need. I’ll peel it off you soon enough, darling’ he breathed against your ear, voice intoxicating, deep and sultry, and you squirmed, your heart rate going through the roof with the realisation that he wanted to sleep with you now. God.

No, you had to push him away. That was the right thing to do, right? He was... Chrollo, and his tongue was following your artery, and it felt like hell and heaven had combined, and you couldn’t think...

‘I’m tired of waiting. I am going to show you just what I can make you feel, darling. I’ll be so good to you’ he said breathily, hands cupping your breasts, fingers grazing your stiffening nipples. You choked a whimper, torn between the overwhelming pleasure and the equally crushing shame.

He groaned against you, pushing himself against your ass, earning another strangled yelp from you when you felt the hard bulge of his erection against it.

He whispered your name like a prayer, turning your head and kissing you hungrily, teeth sinking in your bottom lip, sucking, licking while he fisted your hair and turned you around, pulling you more into him.

Your mind seemed to shut off completely, taken over by the desire that had accumulated in weeks of torturing make-out sessions with no reprieve, to the point where your body was burning and aching for his touch, and nothing else mattered except the taste of wine in his mouth and the grip he had on you.

He pulled back, pupils dilated and eyes dark with lust, gaze lingering on your lips as he pulled down the zipper on your ribcage, greedily devouring you with a mere stare as you stood there, rapt and consumed by desire, your mind a blur.

He lowered the straps of your dress, pulling it down until it pooled at your feet. You burnt as his eyes trailed down your body, shameless and ravenous.

‘That’s even better than what I had imagined. Oh, darling, if you knew...’ he groaned, his hands immediately splaying on the expanse of your back, trailing down to squeeze and knead your ass harshly while his mouth was busy sucking on your neck, making you whimper as you clung to his shoulders.

He pushed you towards the bed, pulling you on his lap. You straddled him, utterly deranged with pleasure as he licked the valley of your breasts, grinding you on his lap. You let out a moan, pulling at his hair, which only made him rougher as he slapped your ass and gripped it, sending a surge of pleasure to your clit.

‘Get on your knees for me, darling. I want those pretty lips wrapped around my cock’ he groaned against your ear, and you swallowed, shame making your face burn. It was one thing to go with the flow and let him do things to you, quite another to actively pleasure him. But you would be a liar if you said the thought did not make you wet. And it was all unfair and humiliating and yet, and yet...

You pressed your lips together, yelping when your bra ripped under his hands and he threw it away.

‘I’ll buy you another one’ he groaned, pinching your nipples and sucking one into his feverish mouth, grazing it with his teeth until you were rutting against him, your hands cradling his head.

‘On your knees now, sweetheart’ he pressed, and you breathed in shakily, lowering yourself from his lap onto the floor, swallowing your shame as Chrollo stared down at you, taking off his jacket and shirt, unbuttoning his trousers and pulling his cock out, stroking it in his hand. Degrading as it was, infuriating as it was, he was so unfairly attractive. From the expanse of his toned stomach to the thick cock in front of you to the unruly hair that framed his face and the lust-laden grey eyes boring into you.

He let go of his cock to gather your hair into his fist, stroking your cheek and your bottom lip, pushing his thumb inside. You hesitantly sucked it, pressing your tongue against it, and he smirked, eyes gleaming with ravenous lust as he pulled it away and you wrapped your much smaller hand around the base of his cock, unable to touch your fingers with your thumb.

You stroked him, looking up at him as you tentatively licked the slit at the tip, and he let out a soft moan, his lips parting as his fingers tightened around your hair.

Emboldened by his reaction, you wrapped your lips around the reddened tip, tongue twirling around it.

‘Good girl, keep your eyes on me’ he breathed, looking dishevelled for the first time as you sank further in, licking the underside of his cock, hollowing your cheeks.

‘Fuck’ he groaned, his hips twitching, to the point where he reached the back of your throat and you choked a little, breathing hard through your nose. You weren’t even two thirds of the way in.

‘You can take it, darling. You’re doing so well. You look ravishing’ he praised, and you pushed a little more, tears starting to sting in your eyes, your lips wet with saliva as you struggled to keep your eyes on him.

You got a little more used to his size, and you managed to take a little more. What you couldn’t take with your mouth you made up for with your hand, rotating it slightly as you pulled back and forth on him, watching him start to breathe more unevenly, his eyes narrowed, the skin of his neck slightly flushed.

‘That’s my girl. You’re such a pretty little slut for me. I knew it’ he taunted, and despite yourself, you couldn’t help but moan, continuing to pleasure him though it killed your pride.

He started to guide your head, not too forcefully, but he was definitely getting more eager as you picked up the pace and sank to his pelvis, tearing a breathless moan from him that made your panties even more soaked than they already were.

‘Oh, darling. My good girl. Fuck- I’m close. Keep going, and swallow, m’kay? Going to make you feel so good after, I promise’ he huffed out, and you hollowed your cheeks, struggling to breathe, tears running down your face as you kept going, until he stilled, his eyes closing, head facing the ceiling as he came in your mouth with a soft moan.

You swallowed heavily, panting as he slipped out of your mouth. He stared at you for a few seconds, his lips parted, his eyes narrowed with pleasure, before he pulled you up by your arm and threw you underneath him on the bed, kissing you, his hands roving down your body.

‘Such a good girl- let me return the favour, my dear’ he breathed, sucking on your nipples, straying down your stomach and spreading your thighs. You stared at him, panting and hot all over as he pressed his nose against your clit, licking a wet stripe along your labia over the wet lace of your panties. You let out a breathless moan, hips jerking against him, and he let out a soft groan, smirking at you.

‘How I missed this’ he murmured, pulling on your panties until they ripped, clearly unfamiliar with just slipping them off. But your quips were soon forgotten when he flung one leg on his shoulder and dipped his tongue inside you, kneading your ass as he flicked your clit and rolled it in his tongue.

You pulled at his hair, your hands catching onto the cloth of his forehead, which fell on you. He tossed it away, sucking on your clit, his hand snaking between your thighs, two fingers dipping inside you and curling, making you arch your back and let out a loud moan.

He started thrusting his fingers in and out, dragging them along your walls, his mouth keenly occupied with your clit, until you couldn’t take it anymore and started convulsing underneath him, trembling as he pinned you down and forced you through the most intense orgasm of your life.

He switched his mouth and fingers, his tongue slipping inside you, tasting you, his fingers rubbing and rolling your clit through the comedown of your orgasm, until you pushed him away when you started feeling too sensitive.

He wiped his chin with his mouth, sucking his fingers clean and smirking at you, the picture of debauchery as he gave you a sultry look.

He took off the remainder of his clothes, turning you on your stomach and lifting your hips.

‘Does my pet want a rough fucking? You deserve it, after all. You’ve been so patient, squirming on my lap for weeks’ he said against your ear, gripping your hip, his free hand wrapped around your throat.

You only moaned, and he must have been satisfied, because he pushed inside you, tearing a loud whine from you and a grunt from him.

‘Fuck, darling. You’re just made for me, aren’t you? Look at how you’re taking my cock, sucking it in, throbbing around it’ he murmured, immediately bottoming out and thrusting back in unrelentingly, making you tremble underneath him, your head dizzy, your face pressed against the mattress as he pounded into you, pressing into your g-spot straightaway, making you whine and keen for him. It was too much, all at once. You felt him everywhere, consuming you, making you see stars.

‘Chrollo- fuck- too much’ you sobbed, but he did not relent. He slammed against you with reckless abandon, long fingers still wrapped around your throat, his pants and groans echoing your louder cries.

‘You can take it, little slut. You’re my little slut, mh? Your pretty little cunt’s squeezing around me... could it be that you like that, darling? How filthy’ he taunted, but he sounded breathless and full of desire, and it made you feel obscene, yes, but also so so wanted. You had secretly longed for this for weeks, and now, you needed to feel him, needed to cum so badly.

But he slipped out of you and turned you on your back, slipping back into your sopping cunt and lifting your knees to your chest, pressing his body over you.

‘Fuck- Ahh- gonna cum!’ you sobbed, the new position rendering you completely helpless to his rough fucking that pressed against your g-spot and grazed your cervix, making you quiver underneath him.

‘Cum for me, darling. Show me how much you need me to fuck you’ he breathed, and you thrashed your head side to side, tears disappearing on either side of your hair, your mouth open in a silent scream as you came undone, seeing white, sounds fading completely around you, leaving you feeling only pleasure for a moment that felt like several minutes.

Chrollo grunted, cursing loudly, pressing his lips to yours in a sloppy kiss and drowning your moans as his hips stuttered, his rhythm breaking, his fingers curling on your flesh, sure to leave bruises as you felt warmth flood inside you.

He continued to push for a few seconds, head buried in the crook of your neck before he stopped moving. Your legs collapsed on the bed, and you struggled to calm your breathing, your throat dry, your arms loose around his back.

He rolled over to his back next to you, his breath starting to come out evenly even though you were still panting.

‘You were perfect, darling’ he murmured, stroking your hair, pulling you into his arms. You stared at the open window, the night skyline staring back at you with its blue lights and orangey glow from the windows of the buildings on the other side of the street.

Was this a life you could live? You did not know. The only thing you knew was that Chrollo had won.

#hxh #hunter x hunter #hxh chrollo #chrollo lucilfer #chrollo #chrollo smut #yandere chrollo #chrollo x reader #chrollo hunter x hunter #yandere chrollo x you #chrollo x you #chrollo x y/n #yandere chrollo x reader

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cerebralinvasion · 2 years ago

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yandere february event day 13

“Listen, I’m giving you two choices. Either you start eating willingly or I’ll force you. There’s no way I’m letting you starve yourself to death.”

disgusting. observing the posh room you sat in, the only thing you could feel was complete and utter disgust. how could anyone look at the room they're being held hostage in and feel anything else? chuuya could fill the room with as much priceless jewelry and pretty clothing as he’d like, it’s still nothing more than a prison. and you refuse to be a prisoner any longer. you refuse to simply lay down and take it, no matter what your kidnapper had insisted was best for you. you would gain your freedom, even if it meant death.

it’s been three days since you’ve eaten or drank anything. you doubt it’d be much longer until you really did die. your captor had told you a day ago that he knew you’d quit this dumb stunt when you realized it wouldn’t get you anywhere. he’s wrong. he thought he could outlast you, but this isn’t about that. you will free yourself from this place, whatever it takes.

the door creaked open for the first time today. it’s none other than chuuya. a tray in hand and a grimace on his face. he closed the door behind himself, the lock clicked into place. he placed down the tray as he sat beside you on the floor. it was your favorite meal and a tall glass of ice water.

“eat.” a simple command fell from his lips as he glared at you. you didn’t say anything, only glaring at him in response. you’ve repeated yourself enough times, what doesn’t he get? after a pause he tried again.

“listen, i’m giving you two choices. either you start eating willingly or i’ll force you. there’s no way i’m letting you starve yourself to death.”

“force me?” you scoffed. “you can’t make me do anything. threaten me, hurt me, whatever, all you’d like. i’m not eating anything. you can’t make me.”

“do you know how much i make? i don’t think you get how easy it’d be to get a doctor over here. they’d shove a tube down your throat for whatever nutrients you need and not say a thing for enough money. so you either get to eat your food normally or you’ll be hooked up to something that does it for you.”

“no. you wouldn’t do that.” you paused at his words, turning to face him with a slightly stunned expression.

“i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again. i’ll do anything to keep you safe. and i mean that, whether or not you like it.” the look on chuuya’s face as he spoke was enough to realize he was dead serious. not only completely capable, but willing as well.

after a brief pause, you opened your mouth. solemnly allowing him to feed you. it looks like you’ll have to think up something else.

#bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #yandere bsd #yandere chuuya x reader #chuuya x reader #bsd x you #yandere bsd x reader #yandere chuuya

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averinna · 9 months ago

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Itafushikugi kidnapping :

Kidnapper : We have your lover, Zenin!

Megumi at the phone : I am a Fushiguro. I'm hanging up.

Kidnapper : HEY DON'T! Ok F-Fushiguro. You're related to the Zenin anyway. We still have your lover!

Megumi : ... which one?

Kidnapper : ... what do you mean which one

Megimi: Itadori or Kugisaki?

Kidnapper : ... oh huh we took both of them but we didn't know you WERE with both of them?

Megumi : Oh. You're so dead.

Kidnapper : What do you m-

Kidnapper 2 : HE BITTEN MY FINGER OFF!!! HELP HELP- AAAAAAH NOT THE HAMMER

Kidnapper 1 : THERE'S SO MUCH BLOOD! PLEASE TAKE THEM BACK! SAVE US, ZENIN!

Megumi : Again, I am a Fushiguro. How much are you willing to pay me so I stop them?

Kidnapper 1 : PLEASE ANYTHING! ANYTHING!

Megumi : Wait. I am a Zenin. I don't need this money.

Kidnapper 1 : But you just said- NOOOO NOT THE HAMMER!

Later, Gojo and Megumi found Yuuji and Nobara with the kidnappers terrified to death. Gojo took a selfie as they begged to be sent to prison as long as they'll be safe from the Jujutech students while Yuuji and Nobara were offended that Megumi wouldn't pay their ransom.

#itafushikugi #plant trio #jujutsu kaisen #kugisaki nobara #itadori yuuji #fushiguro megumi

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zapreportsblog · 1 year ago

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Request for female reader poly volturi.

Im sorry if this is long but the idea popped into my head and I just need to get it out.

She’s the mate of the three kings. She’s becomes a target from another coven that wants to take down the volturi. They managed to kidnap her and all hell breaks loose the volturi immediately act. She’s held prisoner in the covens hideout but she make an uno reverse on them because she’s has the ability to create and control fire she’s had this ability all her life but kept it. A secret from everyone is hard to control for her and her ability is triggered by emotion. She sorta let the coven take her so she could flambéed them and help her mates in the process even thoguht she’s human and was terrified there was no way she was going to let them use her to take down her lovers.😤 so the place was held prisoner explodes and when the volturi get there the captures are on fire and running for their live only to be finished off by pissed off volturi kings.

Needless to say they are shook when they see the place in flames and her just walking out blue like flame surroingg her like halo and your hung the assholes who tried it. Her mates : reactions:👁️👄👁️

The guard:👁️👄👁️

So the kidnappers are taken care of (killed and finished off since they where already burning)

After they all go back home she has some explaining to do. She’s explains how she always had this ability but was scared of telling them because it’s hard for her to control and it sorta drains her energy which is why she sorta fainted afte setting everything on fire but she did it for them and because she was pissed off. She also didn’t know if she would hurt them but she found out that her powers are also controlled by her Will so if she want to harm her powers would do that of not they don’t. She shows them this by by touching them with her hands having flames but it’s not hurting them which makes her happy because she thought that would be impossible for her to have physical contact with them( hug ,kiss etc) turns out she can do that without worrying.

Hugs and kisses they are just happy she’s safe and proud of her 😊 relieved that their mate is ok but not gonna lie they where so scared of losing her 🥹 some ptsd might have happened poor Marcus would have been sweating if he was human . Shook all of them where after these events.

Sorry if this is long btw😂😅

Not a problem at all, i believe it’s you who’s sending in these long requests but I don’t mind, you’re being detailed which is great :)

↳ target on my back ↲

➘ summary : You should know better than to mess with what belongs to the volturi

➘ aro x reader x caius x marcus, volturi kings x reader, twilight x reader

The ancient halls of the Volturi castle echoed with the weight of history as (y/n) moved gracefully through its grand corridors. She was no ordinary vampire; she was the mate of the three Volturi kings: Aro, Caius, and Marcus. Her beauty was as captivating as her power, and her presence commanded respect from those within the castle's walls.

Today, (y/n) was perusing the extensive library, her fingers tracing the spines of leather-bound volumes. As she immersed herself in the knowledge within, a sense of tranquility settled over her. The bond between her and the Volturi kings was unbreakable, forged through centuries of loyalty and devotion.

However, that very bond also made her a target.

Rumors had been swirling about a rival coven, the Romans, who harbored a deep-seated hatred for the Volturi. They sought to take down the Volturi and establish their dominion over the vampire world. (y/n)'s unique position as the mate of the kings made her a valuable pawn in their dangerous game.

As the sun set and twilight painted the sky, (y/n) felt the presence of the Volturi kings drawing near. Aro, with his piercing crimson eyes and enigmatic smile, approached first.

"(y/n), my dear, I trust the library has provided you with some solace?" Aro's voice held a melodic quality as he spoke.

She smiled, her gaze meeting his. "Indeed, Aro. The knowledge contained within these walls is a treasure."

Caius, with his regal bearing and cold demeanor, joined them. "The Romans have grown bolder, (y/n). We must remain vigilant."

"Agreed," Marcus added, his gaze distant and mournful. "They will stop at nothing to tear down what we have built."

Aro's fingers lightly brushed (y/n)'s arm, his gaze intense. "They are aware of your significance to us, (y/n). You must take extra precautions."

(y/n) nodded, her expression determined. "I understand. I won't underestimate the danger they pose."

Days turned into nights, and (y/n) continued to live under the watchful eyes of the Volturi. She trained rigorously, honing her already formidable abilities to new heights. She knew that the Romans would strike when they perceived weakness, and she was determined not to give them that opportunity.

As she patrolled the castle walls one night, a chilling breeze swept through the air, sending a shiver down her spine. Her instincts kicked in, and she turned to face a group of menacing figures emerging from the shadows.

It was the Romans.

Their leader, a tall and imposing figure, stepped forward. "Ah, (y/n), it seems you've been well-protected by the Volturi."

(y/n) stood her ground, her voice unwavering. "I won't be swayed by your threats."

The Roman leader chuckled, his eyes gleaming with malice. "You underestimate our resolve, (y/n). Your connection to the Volturi is your weakness, and it will be your downfall."

The chilling night air hung heavy with tension as the Volturi gathered in the grand hall of their castle. News had reached them that (y/n), their mate and a crucial member of their coven, had been kidnapped by the Romans. The three kings exchanged grim looks, their expressions mirroring their shared concern.

"We must act swiftly," Aro declared, his voice carrying an edge of urgency. "The Romans have shown their hand, and they will not hesitate to use (y/n) against us."

Caius's eyes glittered with fury. "We will crush them and retrieve our mate."

Marcus, usually reserved, nodded in agreement. "We cannot afford to wait. Let us strike immediately."

As dawn approached, the Volturi assembled their forces and prepared to confront the Romans. Their resolve was unwavering, and the power they wielded was unlike any other in the vampire world.

Meanwhile, (y/n) found herself in a dimly lit chamber, the cold stone walls a stark reminder of her captivity. The Romans had used her own power against her, exploiting her vulnerability to fire by rendering her unconscious. As she slowly regained consciousness, her surroundings came into focus, and her heart raced with a mixture of anger and determination.

It was time to turn the tables.

Summoning her latent power, (y/n) focused her energy, creating a small flame in the palm of her hand. As the fire danced, she concentrated on her surroundings, igniting the edges of the ropes that bound her. The flames spread quickly, and within moments, the ropes were reduced to ashes.

With her hands free, (y/n) stood, her eyes blazing with intensity. She extended her power, flames licking across the walls of her prison. Panic spread through the Roman vampires as they realized the danger they were in. The fire roared to life, illuminating the chamber with an eerie glow.

"(y/n)!" the Roman leader shouted, his voice laced with desperation. "Stop this madness!"

She fixed him with a steely gaze. "You underestimated me. You may have taken me captive, but that’s only because I wanted you to. You may think you can control me, and those around me but I know one thing you can’t control.”

“And that is my power."

As the flames continued to rage, (y/n) moved with confidence, using her fire manipulation to keep the Romans at bay. She fought with a fierce determination, knowing that her ability was her greatest weapon.

Outside, the Volturi arrived at the Roman hideout, their presence like a storm descending upon the coven. The clash of powers and the chaos of battle echoed through the night as the two powerful factions collided.

Inside the chamber, (y/n) felt the familiar energy of the Volturi's arrival. She channeled her fire, creating a pathway through the walls. As the flames surged, she burst through the stone, emerging from the chamber in a blaze of fire and fury.

The Volturi fought with unmatched strength, their combined power a force to be reckoned with. Aro's crimson eyes blazed, Caius's wrath was unleashed, and Marcus's mournful gaze carried a weight of centuries.

Seeing their mate free and fighting alongside them only fueled their determination. The battle raged on, and (y/n) unleashed her fire against the Romans, their defenses crumbling in the face of her power.

In the midst of the chaos, (y/n) stood alongside the Volturi kings, her flames casting an ethereal light. The Romans were defeated, their plot shattered, and the Volturi's legacy remained intact.

And all remaining members were finished off by the kings themselves.

As the last embers of the battle flickered and faded, the Volturi kings and (y/n) stood amidst the aftermath of their victory. The scent of smoke lingered in the air, and the remnants of the Roman coven lay defeated around them. The bond that held the Volturi family together was stronger than ever.

Aro, his eyes alight with curiosity, approached (y/n) as she emerged from the dissipating flames. He regarded her with a mixture of intrigue and wonder. "My dear, I couldn't help but notice the way the flames danced around you. It was as if you were surrounded by a halo of fire."

Caius nodded in agreement, his stern expression giving way to genuine interest. "Indeed, your power over fire is remarkable."

(y/n) met their gazes, her own filled with a mix of emotions. She took a deep breath, choosing her words carefully. "I've always had these abilities, even before I became a vampire."

Marcus's voice, usually soft-spoken, held a touch of surprise. "You've had this power all along?"

She nodded, her gaze steady. "Yes, I've been able to create and control fire since I was a child. But I never saw fit to tell anyone. I didn't want my abilities to overshadow my role as your mate."

Aro's smile was genuine, his eyes reflecting a newfound appreciation. "My dear, you needn't have hidden such a remarkable gift. Your power is a testament to your strength and uniqueness."

Caius's lips curved into a rare smile, his tone carrying a hint of playfulness. "You've kept quite the secret, (y/n)."

She smiled back, her heart warming at their reactions. "I wanted to prove my worth through loyalty and action, rather than relying solely on my abilities."

Marcus's gaze held a sense of understanding. "And prove yourself you have."

As the realization sank in, (y/n) felt a weight lift from her shoulders. The Volturi kings accepted her not just for her bond to them, but for who she truly was. Her power was a part of her identity, and it was something she no longer needed to hide.

Aro's voice held a note of excitement. "Your power over fire will only enhance our family's strength. With your abilities, we are an unstoppable force."

Caius nodded, his tone resolute. "We will face any challenges that come our way, together."

Standing amidst the remnants of the battle, the Volturi kings and (y/n) looked to the horizon, their unity unbreakable. The flames that had once been her secret were now a symbol of her strength, their glow illuminating the path forward. As the night gave way to a new day, the legacy of the Volturi burned brighter than ever before.

As the Volturi kings and (y/n) discussed her newfound revelation of fire manipulation, the guards stood in the background, their expressions a mix of curiosity and uncertainty. Among them, Felix couldn't hold back his incredulous thoughts any longer.

His deep voice cut through the moment, and he spoke with a mixture of sarcasm and mock concern. "So, no one's going to talk about the fact that her powers are literal fire? Vampires fear fire, and she can literally burn us to dust and ash if she so feels like it."

A brief, awkward silence fell upon the group. Aro, Caius, and Marcus exchanged glances, their expressions a blend of amusement and understanding. (y/n) looked at them, her lips twitching as she fought to suppress a smile.

Aro finally spoke, his tone light yet carrying an air of assurance. "Felix, my dear guard, you bring up a valid point. However, I believe we can all trust (y/n)'s discretion in how she wields her power."

Caius's dry humor made an appearance as he added, "Indeed, I would prefer not to be turned to ash, should I accidentally upset her."

Marcus's gaze held a hint of mischief. "I suppose that's a mutual sentiment."

Felix blinked, caught off guard by the lack of surprise or panic in their responses. "Oh. Okay, then. I see how it is."

(y/n) couldn't help but chuckle at Felix's reaction. She stepped forward, her tone light. "Don't worry, Felix. I promise not to burn you to ash."

Felix raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking into a half-smile. "Appreciate that, (y/n). It's good to know our safety is a priority."

As the tension eased and laughter echoed through the hall, the Volturi guards and the kings shared a moment of camaraderie. (y/n)'s newfound ability had brought an unexpected twist to their dynamic, but they embraced it with the same unity that defined their coven.

Amidst the laughter and shared understanding, (y/n) felt a sense of belonging stronger than ever. Her fire was no longer a secret, but a source of strength that bound her even closer to the Volturi family. As the night gave way to the dawn, they stood together, ready to face whatever challenges the future might hold, fire and all.

#x reader #x reader one shot #x reader oneshot #volturi imagine #the volturi #volturi imagines #aro volturi x reader #caius volturi x reader #marcus volturi x reader #twilight imagines #twilight x reader #twilight scenario #twilight imagine #twilight x y/n #twilight masterlist #x reader requests #aro volturi #caius volturi #marcus volturi

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bucky-fricking-barnes · 11 months ago

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Protect & Respect

Title: Protect & Respect

Pairing: Mafia!Steve x Former FBI Agent!Reader

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: Language, kidnapping, non-consensual drug use, weapons, kissing

Summary: After Steve goes missing, Y/N meets up with a rival mob boss to organize his safe return.

A/N: This is the first time I’ve written Mafia!Steve! It was fun to write, so please let me know if you enjoyed it. As always, thank you for reading this story and supporting me in all the ways you do!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

The drive to their specified location is only a short distance from your Brooklyn apartment, but you get there in half the time. As you turn the corner, you realize you’re only half a block from your old apartment, the moldy one in Queens that Steve moved you out of as soon as you’d gotten together.

Once parked, you grab the bag Bucky had put together while you’d paced back and forth in Steve’s office, then climb out of the black SUV. You slam the driver’s side door shut and stalk across the empty street, ignoring the old man who watches you from the edge of the shadows with a greedy look in his eye. You have bigger fish to fry.

You toss the zipped duffel at Javier’s feet as soon as you’re close enough. A few feet behind him, his two buddies stand with Steve smack dab between them. He’s on his side in the gravel, his eyes closed. There are no visible wounds, but you don’t trust that he’s unharmed, like they’d said on the phone.

Slowly, casually, and taking great pleasure in your anger, Javier reaches down to pick up the bag. His rings glint in the yellowed security light on the nearby workshop. You’ve always thought he dressed too ostentatiously, but now you wish you could shove his rings down his throat, one by one, just so he could suffer.

“It’s all there,” you snap when he starts to unzip the bag, and you push past him to crouch near Steve’s head. “Steve, can you hear me?”

His hands are tied tightly behind his back with a thick black zip tie and you almost gag at the stench coming off of him. He’s been missing for several days now, and it’s clear that he’s been in their hands for just as long. You don’t need to search his clothing for humiliating stains to know that. Javier has never treated his prisoners well. As soon as you’re done exacting your revenge on his kidnapper, you’re going to make sure your husband gets a bath, a good meal, and a thorough examination from Dr. Banner.

Carefully, you place your hand on Steve’s head, stroking his hair with your thumb, but he doesn’t even stir under your attendance. Something clicks inside your brain and you slowly lift your eyes to glare at Javier, the anger inside of you rising to a head.

“What did you give him?” you grind out.

Javier clicks his tongue. “One would think the boss would be a little more careful. All I had to do was mention you, and he was ready to be at my beck and call. It was quite amusing, actually.” He shoves the bag towards the man to your right.

“What did you give him?” you repeat, your voice rising in pitch as your anger and desperation grows. Steve was strong, and thanks to the secret government programs he’d been subjected to during his time in the military, he was practically immune to every kind of drug. To render him unconscious, they would’ve had to either pump his system full of enough drugs to kill any mere mortal or give him something strong, something you couldn’t access on the street. If they had access to something like that, it means that they’d made a deal with HYDRA, and that would mean Steve’s kidnapping went deeper than just Javier’s meager show of power.

The man on the left steps closer, leaning down to grab your arm. You jerk away, slapping him across the face. Your voice has reached an unholy screech as you repeat the question, but Javier is unfazed. His fingers twitch and suddenly your arms are behind your back. You struggle against his lackey’s grip, but your anger does you no good. You suddenly wish you’d taken Steve’s offer of training more seriously. It’s been over a year and a half since you’d had to do any kind of fighting, and though your former FBI training is still ingrained deep into your bones, you’re rusty, and it’s too late by the time you’re ready to fight back. Why hadn’t you just told Bucky where you were going? Why hadn’t you let Clint or Natasha come with you, even though you’d vowed to come alone?

“You really believed that you could save him?” Javier mocks. The man holding you hostage chuckles in your ear and you shudder, attempting once again to wrench yourself away from him. The other man brusquely pats you down, but you’d stayed true to every term of the agreement. You’d come unarmed, even though you now severely regretted it.

“Let us both go and maybe you’ll live to see the end of the week,” you spit.

“You’re nothing but a whore to warm the Captain’s bed.”

A cold sense of dread fills you as you’re yanked to your feet. The man pushes you back towards the street and you stumble, craning your neck to see Steve’s still form on the ground.

“Let me go!”

Nobody answers you as you’re dragged to a black sedan tucked into the shadows of the warehouse. You catch a glimpse of the old man across the street as you struggle, and his eyes follow you as the lackey pushes you into the trunk, but he does nothing to help. The trunk is slammed shut and you narrowly avoid getting clipped as you fight to get out.

“Load him up into the backseat, and give him another dose,” Javier orders, his voice muffled by the metal around you. “We don’t need him waking up before we get there.” He pounds on the top of the trunk and you flinch at the banging. “Comfortable? We’ve got a long drive ahead of us, sweetheart.”

You shout at him and struggle, making the car rock beneath you, but it’s no use. The trunk is locked shut, and when you scramble for the emergency release, you realize that it’s gone. They’ve somehow removed it, leaving you well and truly fucked. All you can do is sit tight and keep calm. The drive to wherever you’re headed will be an opportune time to think of a plan to fight back and get both you and Steve home where you belong.

The car starts with a grumble and a whine, and it lurches beneath you when the driver accelerates. It takes you twenty-five minutes of listening to the muffled crap radio they’re playing in the car before you remember the device Natasha had sewn into your bra.

You have to wiggle a little to get the right angle, but after several long moments, you press the button in the tracking device. A soft beep is the only response you get, but you let out a sigh of relief. Natasha would get the signal. You’d be rescued soon enough.

By the time the car slows to a stop and the trunk opens, the sun is rising. The inky black sky is starting to grow lighter, changing to dark blue, then to a paler shade the closer it gets to the ground. You’ve dozed off several times, and you open your eyes just as one of Javier’s henchmen opens the trunk. You glare up at him.

“Bring her inside,” Javier orders, somewhere on the driver’s side of the car. “Stick her in the guest room.”

You don’t have any time to wonder what he means by “the guest room” before the man is grabbing you and pulling you from the trunk. You stumble as he shoves you towards an imposing manor surrounded by nothing but tall, dark pine trees. They block the sunrise, though the lightness creeps up towards their tops with every passing minute.

Javier is climbing the wide marble steps to the front door. It’s braced with Grecian columns, and a black lantern hangs above the white marble entryway.

“Your vacation home looks a little worse for wear,” you bite.

He only turns around and gives you a sickening grin before the front door is opened by a short woman in a traditional gray maid’s uniform. She gives him a small curtsy, and you hold back a groan of disgust. Of course Javier wanted to be curtised to.

Steve is nowhere in sight, and when you turn around to see if he’s still in the backseat of the sedan, the man leading you inside shoves his gun between your shoulder blades.

“Keep walking, whore,” he hisses, and you shudder at his hot breath in your ear.

You’re led inside the house, then down into the basement. After carefully descending the stairs, you enter a long hallway. The man shoves you through the first metal door you come to, and you fall onto your hands and knees. He slams the door behind you, and a light flickers on above as the lock engages.

Slowly, you sit back on your heels to inspect your hands. You’re not bleeding, but you flex them and wince at the sting from your fall. Once you’re sure that you’re not seriously injured, you take in your surroundings.

The room has four walls of gray concrete, with a steel door behind you. The ceiling and floor are also concrete, and there’s a prison-like toilet and sink combination in the corner next to the door. There are two cameras: one pointed at the door and the other pointed at the bed, which is just a twin-size metal bed frame with a chintzy mattress laid on top. There’s no pillow, but the blanket looks thin and scratchy. Clearly, Javier and whatever HYDRA operative he’s working with care very little for their assets.

Climbing to your feet, you take inventory of yourself. Your muscles are tense from the cramped drive from Queens. You quickly do the math in your head. If the sun is just rising and you’d gone to meet Javier at midnight, then you’d driven for at least six hours, which could put you in a number of states. You’d activated the tracking device less than an hour into the drive, so if you were lucky, Nat and the rest of the team would be here soon enough. You just had to hope that Steve was somewhere else in the manor, rather than the two of you being separated.

The blanket sends up a cloud of dust when you flip it over on the mattress, making you cough. When there’s no sign of bugs or suspicious stains, you settle yourself in the corner of the mattress. You can fully watch the door from your spot, so you sit back against the cool concrete and wait.

Finally, after what feels like hours, the door opens and you’re greeted by the muzzle of a silenced gun, then Bucky’s grim expression. Upon seeing you, however, he relaxes and smiles just a little.

“Took you long enough,” you tease, and he lets out an indignant huff.

“You’re the one who waited so long to turn on the tracker. Are you hurt, mo bhanríon?” he asks, and with the lilt of the familiar name comes the first hint of comfort you’ve had in a few days.

You shake your head and slide off the bed, then take the extra gun he pulls from his thigh holster. After looking it over, you also take the knife he pulls out from his boot. You slip it in your own.

“Maybe I just wanted to test your skills. Have you found Steve yet?”

Bucky shakes his head. “We’re still looking.” He leads you out into the corridor and the two of you begin searching behind the other metal doors. All of them open into cells identical to your own, but they’re empty of prisoners.

When you reach the end of the hall, he taps the comms unit in his ear. “Basement’s clear. I found an bhanríon, she’s unharmed. Any sign of Steve?”

You hold your breath, waiting as Bucky listens to the rest of Steve’s men as they report back. Finally, his shoulders slump and he closes his eyes, muttering Irish curses under his breath.

“What? What is it?” You step closer and grab Bucky’s prosthetic with your free hand. “Did they find him?”

Much to your relief, Bucky nods. He turns and begins to steer you toward the stairs leading up to the main floor of the manor.

“Is he okay?” you ask, glancing over at him as you walk. “They gave him something—I don’t know what. Whatever it was, though, it was strong. He was totally out of it, Bucky. I’ve never seen him like that before.”

He passes by you to climb the steps first, his gun drawn. “He’s okay. Be quiet, Y/N. Main floor isn’t clear,” he murmurs.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you try to refocus yourself on the task at hand. Being distracted in enemy territory is a stupid way to go, and you need to get back to Steve in one piece, just like you always promised you would.

You follow Bucky in silence, letting him clear the rooms first before you do your own sweep. The entire manor feels like it’s holding its breath. There isn’t a single noise as you move from room to endless room. It makes your stomach twist—where had Javier and his men gone? Where is the maid in the gray uniform who had met you at the door?

You’re on the last hallway when you finally hear a soft clatter from one of the rooms. Bucky tenses, and you give him a little more space as you trail behind.

Slowly, he approaches the door. He waits for a moment, listening, and then he pushes his way in with his gun drawn. There’s a feminine scream and you grip your gun a little tighter.

“Where are they?” Bucky demands. His voice is as cold as ice and you shiver. You’d hate to be on the receiving end of “The Sergeant’s” questioning. He’s known across New York first for his prosthetic, and then for his ruthless interrogation skills.

“I don’t know!” a woman cries. “Mr. Smith told me to come wait here for him, but it’s been two hours! I heard noises, so I hid!”

There’s a pause as Bucky stares her down to determine if she’s telling the truth or not. You use that time to step forward into the doorway behind him and inspect the room. It’s a broom closet, more or less, with a square wooden card table and two matching chairs in the middle of the room. The walls are covered with hanging cleaning supplies, and there are several shelving units holding various boxes and bottles against the far wall. A small microwave sits on the back of the table, and a clock hangs in the only empty space on the wall a few feet above the microwave. From the looks of things, Javier has made the large closet into the poorest excuse for a break room that you’ve ever seen. You feel even worse for the woman. Not only did she have to work for and curtsy to one of the most ridiculous mob bosses you’ve ever met, but she didn’t even have a good place to eat her lunch in peace.

“She’s an employee here, Bucky,” you quietly tell him from behind. “She curtsied when Javier walked in. I don’t think she knows much of anything. None of his other men treated him the same way.”

Bucky grunts a little at that information, then lowers his gun. The woman lets out a sigh of relief, but she still trembles as she watches you from her spot on the floor beneath the table.

“Did they hurt you?” she asks, her voice wavering as she fixes her eyes on you.

You shake your head and offer her a brief, polite smile. “I’m fine. We need you to stay here until we figure out what to do with this place. Can you do that?”

The woman nods. “Yes, ma’am.” She pauses, looking between you and Bucky for a moment. “Your friend is being held in the conservatory.”

“Thank you,” Bucky replies, though you know they’ve already found Steve.

You turn and head back into the hallway as he gives the woman one last warning to stay put. Bucky follows you back the way you’d come after closing the door to the closet-turned-break room.

“The conservatory?” you ask, and Bucky hums behind you.

“Turn left,” he instructs when you reach the main hall again.

He gives you directions as you walk, leading you down several long hallways till you reach the northeastern corner of the mansion. It’s bigger than it had looked from the front.

The sun is fully up now, and you’re greeted with the last remnants of the sunrise when you step through the French doors and into the conservatory. The room is massive, with windows braced with white trim making up the majority of the three outer walls. The ceiling stretches up almost fifty feet, and the floor beneath you is black and white checkerboard tile. Each square is at least four feet across.

All around you, plants of every size and shape grow together, creating the feel of a small, indoor forest. The majority of the plants are tropical. Some of them have leaves as big as the fancy dinner plates Steve’s employees pull out for galas, and there are hidden water spigots spraying a fine mist over them. There are palms dotted around the room, as well as hibiscus trees. A fountain sits in the center of the conservatory. Two large, potted palms sit in front of it, and between them there’s a red velvet settee.

Your eyes find Steve’s immediately, and it feels like your legs give out for a second. Bucky’s still beside you, however, and he manages to keep you upright with an arm around your waist.

“Mo grá,” Steve says from where he’s seated on the center of the settee, and his deep baritone is like a balm to your soul. You close your eyes and let out a breath. It feels like you’re breathing for the first time in days. It’s definitely the first time you’ve been this relaxed.

When you meet his gaze again, Steve smiles wearily and holds out a hand. You close the distance between you and stand between his outstretched legs. He looks up at you, and the two men who’d been standing guard behind the couch move so they’re no longer in your line of sight.

“Did they hurt you?” he asks. There’s a glint of anger in his eyes as he speaks, but you know better. The glint is just a hint of what’s hiding inside of him. Steve is furious that they’ve taken him, but he’s even more angry that they took you. You know he’s probably beating himself up over it, too.

You lift your hands and run them through Steve’s hair. Instinctively, he closes his eyes and leans into your touch, just like he always does.

“No, my love,” you gently answer. “I’m okay. How are you feeling? They gave you something… I don’t know what. Whatever it was, it was strong.”

You can hear the fear and uncertainty in your voice, and you wish that you could hide it better, but all the willpower in the world wouldn’t help you right now. You’ve never been able to hide anything from Steve. It’s how he’d discovered your true identity so quickly, even if he hadn’t revealed that to you until your investigation had been completely foiled.

“I’m fine,” he soothes. “A little tired, maybe.”

Nodding, you let Steve take your hand and kiss your palm, then close your fingers into a fist. He does the same to your other hand, and then he pulls you down to kiss him properly. He pulls you so close that you’re forced to straddle him with your knees firmly planted on the cushions on either side of him.

Behind you, Natasha clears her throat. Your cheeks grow hot when you remember that there are others present for your reunion, and you sit back so you can look at her from over your shoulder. Steve supports your weight with his knees underneath you and with both hands on your ass. Your own hands rest on your thighs.

“As touching as this reunion is, I have news,” she says. There’s a small smirk on her face, and you have to resist the urge to throw the nearest pillow at her.

“What is it, Natasha?” Steve asks. He’s all business again.

“We’ve found Javier, Captaen,” Natasha replies. She bows her head a little when she says his title, the same way every one of the mobsters does. It was strange to you when you first joined them, but you’ve grown used to it. The action is comforting, in a way. You know it means a show of respect for Steve, and with that comes respect and protection for you, too.

“And?”

“He’s finished.”

Steve nods once. “Good. We’ll be leaving soon. Round up any remaining men and take them to the office. Bring Jim and Frenchie with you.”

You’ve never been to Steve’s “office”. You’d tried, once, when you were still an agent assigned to uncover the syndicate, but Steve had prevented that from happening. Now, you have no desire to see the evidence of his work. You have no interest in the grizzly details of the Rogers Crime Family, even if you’re now a part of that family.

“One of Javier’s employees is in a room down the hall. She’s not one of his men, she just works in the house. What do you want us to do with her?” Bucky asks.

Steve stays quiet for a minute, and you feel his thumbs brush against the waistband of your jeans as he thinks. Finally, he looks up at you.

“What do you think, mo grá?”

“Let her go. Pay her off,” you instantly tell him. You bring one hand up to cradle his cheek. “She’s innocent, I can tell.”

Steve nods once, then tilts his head to look past you at his oldest, most trusted friend. “You hear that, Buck?”

There’s no response, but Steve leans against the back of the settee and smiles softly, pulling you down to lay on top of him. He wraps his arms around you in a gentle embrace, so you can only assume that Bucky and Natasha have gone off to do Steve’s bidding, along with the two guards that had been here when you arrived, leaving the two of you alone in the conservatory.

“I was so worried,” you murmur, and Steve hums.

“I wasn’t.”

You lean back a little so you can look at him. Steve has his head tilted back with his eyes closed, and there’s a soft smile on his face. The early morning light that streams in through the massive conservatory windows makes his hair and face seem glowing and almost ethereal. Somewhere in the room, a bird chirps its morning song, adding to the heavenly illusion.

“You weren’t?”

“No. I knew we’d be reunited again. We always are, mo rúnsearc,” Steve replies. He opens his eyes and your breath catches in your throat, just like it always does when he looks at you this intensely. You’ve been together for years now and yet somehow, Steve still takes your breath away.

You brush his cheekbone with your thumb before you drop your hand. His hands have moved to your hips, and you gently pull one of them off so you can intertwine your fingers.

“You haven’t called me that since we first started dating,” you tell him.

Steve chuckles. “You hated that nickname.”

“I didn’t know what it meant!” you protest, and he laughs again, this time more earnestly.

“You were such a confused little bird back then,” he says, affection clear in his tone. “You had no idea what you’d gotten yourself into.”

Shaking your head, you lean down to give him a chaste kiss. “No, I definitely didn’t. Not even in my wildest dreams would I have thought that I’d fall in love with the mob boss.”

“Tell me then,” Steve replies.

His other hand finds your own and you shift your weight so you can sit more comfortably in his lap. He’s totally focused on you and your response. Your heart swoops a little at the attention. Steve always knows how to make you feel heard and important, even when it’s only the two of you in the room.

“What would have been your wildest dreams back then?”

“My wildest dreams?” you ask. He hums, his thumb rubbing over your hand as he waits for your answer. You tilt your head and consider him for a moment, then give him a slow, sly smile. “Probably falling in love with the mob boss’ second in command.”

Steve scoffs and pulls one hand from yours so he can smack your thigh, and you laugh loudly, tilting your head back.

“You’re a little shit, Y/N.”

“I learned from the best,” you tease.

“I’m never letting you sit next to Bucky at game night ever again,” Steve says. He’s holding back laughter—the corner of his lips twitches as he tries not to smile, and his chest heaves a little.

“Does this mean you and I can team up and win Monopoly together? I’m sick of losing against him and Nat, and it’s not fair that I have to be on my own team!”

“Is that what it’ll take to keep you in love with me?” he asks.

Grinning, you nod furiously, and Steve fakes a belabored sigh. “I suppose we can team up.”

You gather his hand again and lean forward until your forehead rests against his. You’re both smiling wide now, and you close your eyes as his nose bumps against yours.

“I already love you, Steve Rogers,” you murmur. “I’d follow you anywhere. I’d go to war for you, you know.”

“I know you would, and if I have anything to do with it, you never will,” he replies. You smile a little when you feel his hand pull from yours, then slide up your neck to cradle the back of your head so he can guide you into another kiss. “I will always protect you.”

Thank you for reading! If you liked this, please consider reblogging my work so that others can enjoy it too.

I do not consent to have my work posted, translated, or published to any third party site or app. If anyone sees my work anywhere other than my personal tumblr, Patreon, or ao3 accounts, it has been reposted without my permission.

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Forever: @aya-fay

Steve Rogers: @lipstickandvibranium @delicatecapnerd

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sweetie-peaches · 11 months ago

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Tubbo flops down on the roof, Thunder echos in the distance, matching how he feels perfectly. A light drizzle starting up.

He can’t catch his breath, everything was going wrong, what would happen if he couldn’t keep Sunny safe? If he couldn’t keep anyone safe? Bad’s stuck in a fucking prison and there’s a serial kidnapper/child murderer on the loose and he can’t do anything.

So with no other way to outlet his feelings, he screams. Screams until his voice hurts, for everything, for all the things he can’t do.

He hears bad echo his screams. And he screams again. Screams until he looses his voice, screams until he feels just a little bit better, until he can pick himself up and think of a plan.

#peaches posts #qsmp qosts #qsmp #qsmp tubbo #qsmpblr #tubbo

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morbidology · 7 months ago

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On July 7, 1960, a typical school day turned into a parent's worst nightmare for Freda Thorne. That morning, she bid farewell to her 8-year-old son, Graeme Thorne, never imagining it would be their final goodbye. Little did she know, Graeme would become the first victim of a ransom kidnapping in Australia's history, sparking a nationwide tragedy that would forever change the landscape of lottery procedures.

Graeme was supposed to meet family friend, Phyllis Smith, for the school run, but when she arrived at their designated spot, he was nowhere to be found. Concern turned to panic as Freda reported her son missing to the police, initiating a desperate search that would grip the nation.

The chilling reality of Graeme's abduction became starkly evident when Freda received a phone call demanding £25,000 for his safe return, accompanied by a horrifying threat to "feed the boy to the sharks" if the ransom wasn't paid by 5PM. Sergeant Larry O'Shea, posing as Freda's husband Brazil Thorne, engaged with the kidnapper, unaware that Brazil had recently won £100,000 in the Opera House Lottery, a fact that had been widely publicized in the media.

Despite efforts to comply with the kidnapper's demands, including instructions to prepare the ransom money, the ordeal took a grim turn. Graeme's empty school case was discovered near the meeting spot with Phyllis Smith, followed by the discovery of his lunch bag and school books miles away.

The agonizing wait for Graeme's return came to a devastating end when his lifeless body was found on August 16, 1960, in Seaforth, Sydney. Wrapped in a tartan blanket, bound with string, and gagged with a scarf, Graeme had been killed within 24 hours of his abduction.

Forensic analysis uncovered crucial evidence linking Stephen Leslie Bradley, a Hungarian migrant, to the crime. Despite fleeing to Britain, Bradley was apprehended in Colombo, Ceylon, and subsequently found guilty, receiving a life sentence. His death in prison on October 6, 1968, provided little solace to a grieving family and a nation in shock.

#Graeme Thorne #True Crime #Kidnapping

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sincerely-sofie · 5 months ago

Note

With the fact that Twig would be out for blood if someone even LOOKED at Opal with ill intentions, said kidnapper would have likely had to grab the baby when she was with someone that would be more vulnerable to a surprise attack or something like that. And considering all the individuals that are around Opal, it would have had to be one of the kids (Lucky or Manaphy). Which makes things WORSE for the kidnapper because you kidnapped one baby and then outright attacked the other(s). This crook is not getting out of this without some major injury or legendary curse (looking at you, Ark). That’s on the off chance the crook makes it out ALIVE.

(referencing these two posts from ages ago— sorry for the late response!)

I will say this: Ark isn't one to really engage in a fight after his redemption. However, I will also say that he's not above holding someone down so Twig can elbow drop them.

This kidnapper is going to be begging to be arrested so that they can survive Twig's vengeance. "HELLO??? 911??? I NEED AN OFFICER STAT. A CRAZY LADY IS TRYING TO KILL ME... Wh... No, I need to be put in jail. You don't get it, I need a maximum security prison holding cell to keep me SAFE. THIS WOMAN IS PSYCHO."

#the present is a gift au #shadow baby au #pmd darkrai #pokémon mystery dungeon #pokemon mystery dungeon #pmd explorers #pmd sky #pmd eos #pmd2 #pmd #sofie answers asks

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alterchaos · 4 months ago

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ESCAPE: PRISON ISLAND

Sonic has finally been captured by G.U.N. and is being held on the infamous Prison Island where he receives a surprise visitor. Meanwhile, time ticks down to disaster...

PREVIOUS CHAPTER: IN THE SHADOW OF DOUBT

NEXT CHAPTER: THE FAULT IN OUR STARS: CAPTIVES

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The pristine door slid open, revealing a disheveled businessman surrounded by four bodyguards. He had a dangerous look in his eye as he approached the G.U.N. agent up ahead.

“I’m sorry sir but this area is-”

“Let me through.”

“Sir-”

“I am the head of this operation, am I not? I am entitled to an interrogation of my own, and besides…” He smiled sinisterly.

“I want to look that kidnapping bastard in the eye as I watch his plans fall apart.”

The agent paused a moment, leaning into his walkie-talkie before a hand met his shoulder.

“Your operation’s funding comes from my company does it not?”

“Y-Yes sir…”

“Then perhaps this little unauthorized visit can remain between me and your team.” The man clapped the now-nervous agent’s shoulder.

“R-Right away sir…”

After a few moments, the door to the holding cell slid open, revealing a small hedgehog cuffed to the table before him. Machine guns lined the walls, ready to fire should he run. He simply sat there, silent, staring down in despondency at his situation.

Nelson paused at the door until the motion-detecting guns were turned off, allowing him and his team of bodyguards to enter safely. He sat at the other end of the table, staring down his daughter’s kidnapper with fury.

“Sonic the Hedgehog…”

“Listen…I didn’t kidnap your daughter.”

“Then why did you run?”

He clenched his fist.

“Because I had no other choice. If you’d taken me in…how else would I have been able to look for her?”

The father’s eye twitched in response.

“I ran across every inch of your world looking for her! Three times in fact! I couldn’t find anything. I was even ready to turn myself in if it meant we could work together, that is, until me and my friends figured out where she’s being kept! She’s on th-”

A loud voice came over a speaker alongside the readying clack of one of the machine guns, “Silence hedgehog! If you do not settle down, we will be forced to open fire!”

Sonic gritted his fangs, but obliged.

Nelson closed his eyes a moment, before staring down the hedgehog once more with unbridled hatred, “That’s enough!” He lunged forward, grabbing the hedgehog by the cuffs on his wrists and holding him off the ground in threat. Sonic’s eyes widened. Despite his overwhelming power, he couldn’t help but feel afraid of the unhinged man before him, “TELL ME WHERE MY DAUGHTER IS!!! IF YOU DON’T I’LL-”

clack

“-!!?”

Sonic looked down in shock as the cuffs fell from his wrists. He was confused, until his eyes met Nelson’s once more.

He smiled.

“NOW TAILS!!!”

The voice of his little brother buzzed through an earbud.

“ROGER!!!”

The door to the holding cell slid shut, agents scrambling as they realized what was happening.

“MACHINE GUNS COMING ONLINE!!! ELIMINATING ALL THREATS NOW!!!”

Nothing happened.

“WHAT THE-!!?”

“WE’VE BEEN HACKED!!!”

Outside the base, the young fox twirled and blew on his screwdriver comically.

“ALL UNITS!!! PREPARE TO ENGAGE IN COMBAT!!! DO NOT LET THEM ESCAPE!!!”

Sonic’s smile grew as each of the bodyguards removed their disguises one by one.

The foreign bodyguard was the first to address the hedgehog, bowing at him in respect, “I hope you can forgive us for deceiving you, Master Sonic.” He smiled.

The young boy with the spiky, auburn hair was the next to speak, looking to his father with sparkling eyes, “That was incredible, Dad! You really had me on edge!”

Nelson rubbed his head sheepishly, “Well what can I say? I learned from your mother!”

“And that nifty little trick he learned from me!” Sam removed his disguise, pointing to the hedgehog’s freed wrists, “It pays to have a little brother in law enforcement, eh?” He nudged Nelson’s side playfully.

“Yeah…though I doubt you’ll have a career in law enforcement much longer after today…”

Sam shrugged his shoulders, “Meh. I was due for a career change anyway.”

“Here they come!” The last of the bodyguards leapt in front, summoning a large hammer from thin air. Sonic blushed slightly.

She was so cool.

“Amy…you came too?”

The pink hedgehog turned to smile at him, “Of course! Honestly, Sonic, did you really think we’d abandon you?”

The hedgehog wiped a few tears, “No…Not at all, Ames…”

Chris smiled, “Once we were let go from questioning, we began making our way here with Uncle Sam…that is…until my dad stepped in to help.”

“Speaking of, Sonic…” Nelson turned to the blue hedgehog before falling on his hands and knees and bowing his head to the ground, “I hope you can forgive my foolishness.”

Sonic sweated nervously at the sight, “H-Hey, no hard feelings! You were just trying to do what was best!”

“I know I don’t deserve it but…” The man shed a few tears, “Please…I beg of you…Save my precious daughter…”

Sonic stood there stunned for a moment. He smiled, kneeling down to the man’s level and putting a hand on his shoulder, “Come on, I was going to save her either way, no begging required!” He winked, “So stand back up and let’s do it to it!”

Nelson’s eyes went wide before he smiled, taking the hedgehog’s hand and standing up beside him, “Right! Thank you, Sonic.”

“Anytime!”

The door slid open, agents forming an impenetrable wall as they held up their guns.

“ALL UNITS, OPEN FIRE!!!”

“Hehehehe I don’t think so…”

The fox smiled as he held up a gem, a surge of energy radiating through the base.

clack clack

“W-What the-!!? They won’t fire!!!”

“KEEP FIRING ANYWAY!!!”

clack clack clack

Amy charged ahead, knocking the wall of agents aside and clearing a path.

“Alright Amy!”

“Let’s get out of here!”

“Yeah let’s-”

BA-BUMP

The hedgehog stumbled, swaying ever so slightly as he fought to regain his balance. He gripped his head, dizziness overtaking him.

“Nnngh…”

“SONIC!!!”

Tanaka caught the hedgehog as he collapsed, a slight buzz of dark energy crackling throughout his body.

“What the-”

“FREEZE!!!”

More agents appeared, the commander now in the lead.

“Mr. Thorndyke…”

“Commander Towers…”

He held up a pistol.

“Didn’t I warn you not to interfere any longer, in front of your son no less!?”

Nelson froze, the barrel clicking into place.

“DAD!!!”

BANG!

SHAZAP!

SLASH!

The bullet dropped to the ground, split in two. Everyone stared in shock at the figure that had appeared before them. The rings around his wrists glistened against the harsh light of the holding cell, contrasting against his dark, upturned quills.

Chris’s eyes widened in horror.

“That’s…” He clenched his fists, ready for a fight, “YOU…GIVE HER BACK!!!”

Nelson’s eyes widened in a similar fashion, locking onto the hedgehog with unbridled fury.

He’d acted in pure faith before, but there was absolutely no doubt now, not when the proof stood before him.

Sonic…was innocent.

Nelson clenched his fist and gritted his teeth.

“Where is my daughter…”

The hedgehog turned, flaming irises challenging the man behind him.

“Maria is back home where she belongs.” He turned back to the commander, “Thank you, commander, for protecting us.”

“Of course, Shad-”

“However…”

Commander Towers’s eyes widened as the hedgehog shot him a stern look.

“Papa never asked for there to be violence on our behalf. He only hired you for self-defense. So why all this?”

“Well…you see, Shadow…This group of upstarts decided they wanted to invade your home. We were only doing our sworn duty to protect the Robotnik family after all…” The commander bowed.

“I see…” Shadow closed his eyes in thought for a moment before looking back into the commander’s multi-colored eyes, “I understand your concern, and I thank you for having my family’s best interest at heart, but G.U.N. is a peaceful agency is it not?”

The commander began to sweat, averting his eyes, “Y-Yes…though-”

“Then I order you to stand down. Let these people go free.”

“But, Shadow-!!”

“The Robotnik family does not stand for shedding innocent blood! My insane cousin learned that the hard way with his banishment, or did you forget?” Energy crackled from his hands, challenging the commander to argue back.

“...” The commander waved a hand, calling all units to stand down and let the intruders free.

Satisfied, Shadow turned to face the group of heroes with a cold, threatening look in his eyes, “As for you…This is your last chance. Maria is back where she belongs and I refuse to let anyone steal her away from me again. Dare to face me aboard the Ark and I promise I won’t hold back. You have my word.”

With that, he teleported away.

“...”

The commander stomped his foot, “Damn hedgehog! Who does he think he is ordering me arou-”

“SIR COME IN!!!”

The commander clicked the button on his walkie, “Yes, Agent Stone?”

“THERE’S A BOMB!!! I REPEAT!!! WE FOUND A BOMB!!!”

“WHAT!!?”

“IT’S SET TO GO OFF IN FIVE MINUTES!!! WE HAVE TO HURRY BEFORE-”

“CAN’T YOU DISARM IT, AGENT!!?”

“IT’S NO USE!!! THE BOMB IS WIRED TO A SERIES OF UNDERGROUND CONNECTIONS!!! THIS WHOLE ISLAND IS GOING TO EXPLODE!!! I REPEAT!!! PRISON ISLAND IS SET TO EXPLODE!!!”

Sonic lifted his head in shock, though his eyes were still swimming slightly from earlier. He pushed up from Tanaka’s grasp, stumbling slightly as he made his way to his feet.

“Sonic!?”

“Q-Quick!” He held out a hand, “Everyone grab onto me!”

Everyone nodded as they held on to the Blue Blur. He took off at record speeds, making his way to his brother outside in a mere minute. Everyone loaded onto the plane as agents ran from the base, scrambling onto helicopters already floating into the air. Tails had thankfully made enough room for everyone to get here apart from Amy and Sonic who would need to ride on the wings. Everyone readied for takeoff, Sonic’s ear twitching at a sudden voice crying out in the distance.

“Commander! Come in, Commander Towers! Damn! Why isn’t he responding!?”

“Alright! We need to hurry! Ready for takeoff, Sonic?”

No response.

“Sonic?”

—----------------------------------------------------

Back inside the base, the commander lay on the ground holding his leg, crimson blood seeping from the bullet lodged deep inside the muscle.

Damn…

If only he hadn’t let his guard down.

He looked up as a gust of wind blew past, the hedgehog he’d previously threatened and detained now standing before him. He chuckled, releasing a cocky grin.

“What? Come to finish the job?”

“What happened?”

“It seems as though G.U.N. has a traitor in our midst. No matter…it isn’t as if I’ll be leaving here alive now anyway…”

“...”

“You should go…At least you have a family to return to…” He shut his eyes in peace.

“You don’t?”

“Not since the massacre aboard the Ark 50 years ago. I was only a child then…weak…helpless…I was forced to join G.U.N. in order to survive and yet here I am having become the very monster I once swore to destroy…”

“...”

“It’s everything I deserve…”

Remorse filled the older man as memories flashed of the girl with the golden hair he loved so dearly. She’d been like a sister to him, playful yet wise beyond her years.

Everything he was not.

“Maria…I hope you can forgive me…”

“...”

“-!!?”

Commander Towers’s eyes flew wide as the hedgehog picked him up, sliding him onto his back like a backpack.

“H-Hey…What are you-”

“If you really feel sorry…then live on and make things right.”

The man smiled, having been bested by the hero before him, “Then lead the way, Sonic the Hedgehog.”

SHOOOOM!

beep

BOOM!!!

BOOM!!! BOOM BOOM!!!

The fox watched with tearful eyes as the island below began to explode.

“SONIIIIIC!!!”

Everyone watched, horror-stricken as they searched for any sign of their missing friend. Eventually, Amy pointed to one of the nearby helicopters.

“THERE HE IS!!!”

Everyone turned, spotting the hedgehog now seated beside the commander, smiling at the man as the two conversed, his bloodied leg now wrapped in bandages and being attended to by staff. He spotted his friends and waved, indicating all was well. Everyone celebrated their friend’s victory, all having escaped without serious harm from the bombing of Prison Island.

—----------------------------------------------------

bzzt

“Good morning, Station Square. This is Scarlet Garcia reporting live from studio SF-22 where we are joined today once again by the famous Nelson Thorndyke. How are you today, Mr. Thorndyke?”

The man, slightly less disheveled, smiled at the reporter, “I’m doing well, thank you.”

The reporter’s eyes widened, “Well that’s shocking considering your daughter is still missing.”

“She is.”

“So what’s changed between yesterday and today’s broadcast?”

Nelson smiled.

“Mr. Thorndyke?”

“What changed is that I was wrong. In fact, I couldn’t have been more wrong if I tried.”

“What do you mean?”

Nelson stood up, “Citizens of Station Square, I know that for the past month I have denounced your beloved hero live on television more times than I can count. I’m here today to say that I now know the true culprit’s identity, and it isn’t Station Square’s hero, Sonic the Hedgehog.”

Citizens from around the city gasped at the news.

Sam appeared next to his brother in full uniform, “Sonic the Hedgehog is hereby dropped of all charges. I will personally make sure all officers are informed of this change immediately. Furthermore, the S-Squad would like to recognize Sonic as an honorary member and fellow officer on account of his heroic acts protecting not just this city, but our world as we know it.”

Whispers began circulating, hearts around the world cheering on the pardoned hero.

Nelson continued, “Sonic has agreed to aid in our efforts to find my daughter and put a stop to any conspiracies surrounding her disappearance.”

“C-Conspiracies!?” Ms. Garcia jolted, “Surely you have to be kidding, Mr. Thorndyke! My journalism focuses on facts, not theories! Is there anyone who can reasonably back up your claims!?”

“I can.”

Everyone watched with bated breath as a middle-aged man limped onto the screen, his calico eyes looking into the camera with determination.

“My name is Commander Walter Towers of the Guardian Units of Nations and I have come today to make an announcement.”

The emerald beamed with energy.

“Mr. Thorndyke hired me and my squad to search for his daughter; however, my team had other motives far beyond civil service.”

The canon roared to life.

“You see, we were involved in the cover up of an incident that took place 50 years ago aboard a satellite known as the Space Colony Ark, one caused as a direct consequence of G.U.N.’s incompetence.”

The echidna screamed out for it to stop.

“Scientists and their families were killed by order. As a young child, I was one of the sole survivors because of my commitment to join G.U.N. rather than be shot. I lost everything that day, including my humanity, all because the government feared the experiments living on board.”

But it was too late.

“One of those experiments is the culprit responsible for this kidnapping. My team was aware of his existence and had already suspected him of the kidnapping at play, and for that I deeply apologize to everyone, especially the hero, Sonic the Hedgehog.” He bowed, “Since yesterday, I have tried to make contact with the colony to no avail. It seems as though someone else is pulling the strings on this operation, but…” Towers slammed his fist on the table before him, “I swear I will not rest until G.U.N. sees the reform it desperately needs and returns the young Thorndyke girl home at any cost!”

The canon took aim.

“This ends now…Shadow the Hedgehog…”

It fired.

BOOM!!!

Everyone watched in horror as a beam of light shot across the sky, colliding with the moon in a massive explosion. It shattered in half, the force of the blast enough to rattle the earth beneath. Screams rang out across Station Square as panic ensued.

“WHAT THE-!!? WHAT IS GOING O-!!?”

The broadcast cut suddenly, a timer appearing on every screen in its stead.

23:59:59

The end of the world was close at hand.

CHAPTER END

#alter chaos #sonic the hedgehog #sonic au #sth #sonic oc #sonic fanart #sth au #sonic fancomic #sth fandom #sth fanart #shadow the hedgehog #guardian units of nations #sonic adventure 2 #sonic x #chris thorndyke #amy rose #miles tails prower #sonic fanfiction #alter chaos ark chronicles

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enbyleighlines · 5 months ago

Note

Farcille, rescued from kidnappers

Okay, I needed some time to think about this, bc I’m not generally a fan of dark topics like kidnapping, esp in modern au’s, so I decided to get a little creative with this one.

Rating: T (for some language)

The tags: Kidnapping, Fairy Tale AU, friends to lovers, Princess!Falin, Court Magician!Marcille, Prince!Laois, True Love’s Kiss, Crack Taken Seriously, Satire

Summary:

In a Disney-inspired fairytale world, Marcille grows up as the court magician for the royal Touden family, and is close childhood friends with both Prince Laios and Princess Falin.

(She’s still part elf, but ages like a human child, bc I said so)

Then, one day, Princess Falin is kidnapped by a dragon! The King hires a professional dragon slaying group to rescue Falin, but when Prince Laios and Marcille attempt to tag along, they are told not to bother.

Cue Laios and Marcille sneaking off during the night to catch up to the rest of the group. When they catch up with the rescue party, it causes some tension, but after some back and forth, Laios and Marcille are allowed to join, so long as they don’t make too much trouble.

And so the journey to rescue Falin begins! Except… some things aren’t adding up. The so-called dragon hunting professionals don’t seem to know that much about dragons. Nor do they seem properly equipped to deal with a dragon. Prince Laios, an expert on dragons, starts getting suspicious. At first, Marcille believes Laios is overthinking things, but with time, she starts to have her own suspicions…

Namely, the rest of the rescue party doesn’t seem all that concerned about Falin, nor do they seem to be in any hurry. It’s almost as if they’re taking their time? And purposefully trying to shake Laios and Marcille?

So Marcille and Laios decide to trudge on ahead, beating the rescue party to the dragon’s lair, and picking up some misc. companions along the way (Chilchuck, Senshi, Namari, Kabru, etc.)

And it turns out that there is no dragon! Princess Falin is being kept prisoner by an illusionist, who is working with the so-called professional dragon slayers! It’s all a scam to con royals out of their fortunes!

Poor Falin is being kept blindfolded, to keep her ignorant of her situation, but she’s used to having poor vision, and so her other senses are quite keen. So she also suspects something…

Afraid that she’s going to discover their secret, the illusionist casts a spell on Falin to put her into a decade long slumber, with the hopes that their con artist group will be long gone by the time she wakes up to tell anybody.

Anyway, Laios and Marcille rush in to save the day, Laios with his sword and Marcille with her magic. And then they beat up the con artists/kidnappers.

But what about Falin?? She’s still asleep!

Someone makes mention of a true love’s kiss… That’s what wakes up princesses in magic-induced comas, right?

Not thinking correctly, Marcille volunteers to kiss Falin.

She kneels by Falin’s side, tears streaming down her face, pleads with the heavens that this works, and right before she kisses Falin, confesses that she has loved her for years.

And then Marcille kisses her.

But nothing happens!

Prince Laios tells her that the true love’s kiss thing is a myth.

Cue everybody’s enraged “Why didn’t you say so sooner???”

That’s when Marcille remembers that she is a magician and can just cast dispell magic on the sleeping curse…

And so Falin wakes, and they all return back to the castle!

It seems like the story would end there, but there is one last little twist. After the celebratory feast celebrating Princess Falin’s safe return, Falin finds Marcille alone on the balcony, and admits to having a wonderful dream.

She dreamed that Marcille was a dashing prince, who slayed a dragon and kissed Falin to wake her from her slumber. She specifically remembers the words of Marcille’s confession.

At first, Falin feared it was just a dream. But when she confided in Laios, he confirmed that the confession really happened!

And so they confess their feelings and kiss again.

The end!

(Thanks for the prompt!! I hope this was to your liking!)

#imhereformysciencefriends #asks #farcille #dungeon meshi #fake fic ask game

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kybercrystals94 · 8 months ago

Text

The Hostage

(Part 3)

Read here on Ao3!

Master Post here!

Rated: T | Words: 1736 | Summary: The boys wait, and unexpected consequences are met...

Hunter approaches their prisoner chained to the lower rack, and holds out a ration bar and canteen. The twi’lek man, Cenrar Kedess, sits up, shifting so that his back is against the wall. “It is not too late to accept my offer,” he says.

Hunter scoffs. “Not interested.”

“But I can give you twice whatever the price on my head is.”

Hunter narrows his gaze. “Are you hungry or not?” he asks.

Kedess snatches the meal, glaring up at Hunter and baring sharpened teeth. “You are very foolish, refusing me,” he growls.

Hunter ignores him, turning to Wrecker slouched in the crash seat across from Kedess. He hands his brother two ration bars. “I’ll come take the watch in an hour,” Hunter mutters.

Wrecker nods.

Hunter hesitates a moment, then reaches out and grips Wrecker’s shoulder, shaking him softly. “We’ll get her back.”

Wrecker frowns down at ration bars in his hand. “They still haven’t made contact,” he rumbles softly. “It’s been five days.”

Five days. Five long, terrible days…the monotony only broken by the small effort it had taken to track down Kedess. Between Tech and Echo, they’d quickly pinpointed the twi’lek’s location in a nearby sector, on a small, disreputable planet with little Empirical influence. Wrecker and Hunter had then convinced Kadess that it was in his best interest to come quietly…with the encouragement of Hunter’s blaster gouged into his spine, and Wrecker’s iron grip latched around his arm.

“He’s just giving us time,” Hunter reasons, the same reason Tech gave him when he’d fretted over the delay in contact himself only a few minutes ago.

“We’re us,” Wrecker says, “We don’t need this much time.”

“He doesn’t know that.”

Wrecker tears open one of his ration bars, but doesn’t eat it, just turns the brick around in his fingers. “Do you think he’s giving her enough to eat? I’d hate for her to be hungry.”

The question is only one of the many that have haunted Hunter ever since Omega was taken. Is she warm enough? Is she getting enough sleep? Is she being fed and hydrated? Does she have injuries? Is she scared? Does she wonder why her brothers hadn’t found her yet? Does she know they were coming, that they were doing everything they could to find her?

Does she know they would do anything for her?

Does she know that they love her?

Unable to find any words of comfort, Hunter doesn’t say anything at all.

<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>

Echo is mindlessly reading through old reg manuals, not even sure when he’d opened the file on his data pad. The familiar documents feel safe and comforting, losing himself in the lingo and wording that had occupied so much of his mind as a cadet. It is better than where his mind tries to wander when it is left unoccupied.

“We have coordinates,” Tech announces.

Echo pushes himself up, coming to stand over Tech’s shoulder. “About kriffing time.”

“I’ll tell Hunter!” Wrecker is about to barrel out of the cockpit and nearly collides into the sergeant himself.

“No message from Omega?” Hunter asks, pushing past their bulking brother.

Tech shakes his head, already transferring the coordinates into the navigation system. “No, but they are close. Only three hours from our current location.”

“Why wouldn’t he ask for proof that we’ve got Kedess?” Echo asks suddenly. “Seems strange that he would simply give us the coordinates to his location without ensuring we have the bounty.”

“I’m not complaining,” Wrecker says.

“It could be a trap,” Echo states.

“To what end?” Tech asks. “If the kidnapper had wanted us specifically, why send us to find Kedess at all? It would have been advantageous to simply give us the coordinates from the start and ambush us then.”

Echo crosses his arms. “It still feels like something is off.”

“We’ll be ready for a fight,” Hunter says, “but those coordinates are the only connection we have right now to Omega.”

Tech nods and prepares for the hyperspace jump. Echo slides back into the co-pilot’s seat, trying to squash down the uneasy feeling rattling in his chest…his brothers are right. This is their only link to Omega.

What other choice do they have?

<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>

The ship is small, unassuming.

Hunter isn’t exactly sure what he was expecting the monster-that-stole-his-kid’s ship to look like. However, he is relieved to see that it is not equipped with any sort of heavy weaponry. It is also alone.

“What were you saying about an ambush, Echo?” Wrecker chortles. “I’d like to see that tiny little thing try and take on the Marauder.”

“I never said I thought it was an ambush, I said I thought something was off,” Echo retorts. “I still do. I don’t like this.”

A transmission chimes and Tech patches it through. Omega’s voice, frantic and breathless, filters through the speakers.

“Hunter, I don’t have much time…something is wrong…you need to–” Her voice breaks when the transmission cuts out and the kidnapper’s ship explodes.

<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>

Tech cannot prise his gaze away from where only moments before, a full ship had been. Shock and horror permeate to the very core of his being. His mind had calculated dozens of outcomes to the matter that was Omega’s capture. Not one of them had concluded like this. Even with the evidence quite literally splayed before them in mind staggering destruction, he finds himself unable to comprehend this version of reality.

“Scan for survivors.” The voice is Hunter’s, but the emotion behind it is foreign to its speaker: desperation.

“Hunter…” Echo begins.

“She can’t be dead,” Hunter growls. “She’s not.”

“No one could have survived that,” Echo says.

Tech begins the scan anyway, even though he knows that Echo is correct. There will be no survivors. He scans again, and again.

[No lifeforms detected]

Tech forces his hands into fists to prevent himself from starting another scan. The result will be the same. Over and over again.

Omega is gone.

“Maybe she wasn’t on the ship.” Wrecker’s voice shakes. He is most certainly crying.

“She hailed us on a short range transmission. There is nowhere else she could have been.” Tech hates how indifferent his voice sounds, as though he doesn’t care.

Because nothing has ever been further from the truth.

<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>

Hunter’s mind is silent and roaring. The static of a comm left on an empty channel. A droning hum numbing and excruciating all at once. Breaking through it all, a small voice whispers, curling around the chaos, gripping with sharp claws: She’s dead, she’s dead, she’s dead, she’s dead…

He is aware of arms wrapping around him, holding him too tight. He is aware of familiar voices speaking, saying familiar words and names, but his mind will not comprehend. He is aware of his own throat constricting around sounds that might be words or sobs or screams. He is aware, but he doesn’t understand.

The only clarity is the whisper. She’s dead, she’s dead, she’s dead, she’s dead…

You couldn’t save her.

She’s dead.

She’s dead because you didn’t protect her.

She’s dead because of you.

<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>

Wrecker wonders how many times Echo has felt this ache. It is so raw and physical that Wrecker looks down at his chest to make sure that there isn’t a gaping wound where his heart is. It isn’t the same pain he felt when they left Crosshair on Kamino. That is a dull throb, a constant reminder that Crosshair is separated from them. However, the little sliver of hope that he will come back makes the pain feel temporary and tolerable, like it will heal and leave a welted scar.

This agony though, is deadly. Life ending. Bleeding out. A black hole consuming any past or present or future Wrecker can imagine. How can he keep breathing when Omega isn’t; his heart keep beating when Omega’s doesn’t; mind keep tripping over thoughts and memories when Omega’s won’t…ever, ever again.

We were designed to resist emotional stress, Tech had said once, when they’d seen natborns in a village become distraught – inconsolable – over the death of several of their men who had fought alongside the Batch for a short time during a mission. Wrecker had sympathized, but had mostly felt bad that he didn’t share in their grief. That, Tech had continued, and we did not have a bond with these individuals. I’m sure we would feel differently were it one of our own.

Somehow, they’d gone an entire war without losing one of their own…that is, one of their own. Clone Force 99 remained intact, even adopting a reg along the way. Echo was haunted by ghosts, but he always kept fighting, always moved forward.

But how? How had he done it? Over and over again?

Maybe Tech was wrong. Maybe the Batch hadn’t been equipped with that ability to resist emotional stress. Maybe that was part of their defect.

Wrecker rubs at the salty residue of tears on his face, long dried. Tucked under one arm is Hunter, having finally fallen into an exhausted sleep. He’d fought and snarled like a cornered, feral tooka when it’d first happened. He hadn’t cried as Wrecker had, or gone silent like Tech, or resigned like Echo.

It had terrified Wrecker at first, seeing his composed brother about-face. He was scared of what Hunter might do, so he’d done the only thing he could think of…wrapped him up tight in an embrace. Hunter struggled against him, biting out indecipherable words, but Wrecker didn’t let go. Couldn’t let go. It felt like he might be the only thing holding Hunter together, and if he let go, Hunter would burst apart from grief. So Wrecker had held on until Hunter sagged into his grip with deep, gusting breaths, then he’d led his brother to the hold, made him sit down in a crash seat and sat next to him, pulling him close.

Wrecker feels Kedess watching them, remembering their prisoner for the first time in maybe hours. Wrecker doesn’t know how long it's been since their whole world ended.

“The girl,” Kedess says when Wrecker meets his eye. “She is gone?”

Wrecker growls out an affirmative noise.

The twi’lek is quiet for a moment. “My sister died during the war on Ryloth. It is a pain I would not wish on my greatest enemy.”

Wrecker’s heart bleeds anew. “Me neither,” he manages to say, voice barely above a whisper.

MASTER POST || PREVIOUS PART || NEXT PART

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#star wars #the bad batch #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #tbb tech #tbb hunter #tbb omega #tbb wrecker #tbb echo #the hostage #part 3 #NO MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH #Kidnapping #hostage situation #hurt no comfort (yet)#angst

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sweet-potato-42 · 1 year ago

Text

it seems to me that the ron and bbh situation mirrors the relationship between the feds and the islanders.

to be honest i dont watch the story but from waht is see i think:

the kidnapper (bbh and the feds) keep the prisoners in a very nice environment (farm or island) in which they are/ can be happy. The prisoner can enjoy the environment and have all they need there. They can escape any harm from outside the environment and be given all they want. However they are still stuck in there.

Ron is sort of like the islanders who dont really care about the fed and are having fun. I think its an interesting way of thinking about the situation. The prisoners are being kept safe and happy (if they cooperate) however they are trapped and do not have the choice to leave.

Id say like cellbit says about the island the ideal situation for ron is be able to stay in hiding with bbh if he wants to but he should always have the freedom to leave.

#qsmp #qsmp badboyhalo #bbh #qsmp ron

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princesscolumbia · 8 days ago

Text

To: The Trans People Who Can Leave

Go. Get out of America now. I will support you, I will help you make plans if I can.

But I can't join you.

I have a daughter. I share parenting time with a woman who voted for Trump. (She hasn't said she voted for Trump, but she's voted Republican for decades and has said nothing to indicate she wouldn't do the same this year.)

My options are:

Stay where I am so I have access to my daughter and she has a place where, for the time being, is actually something resembling safe.

Take my daughter and leave the country. It would have to be done quickly and I'd have to make it to Canada literally overnight on a Friday or Saturday and request asylum. I would then be charged with kidnapping as my daughter is a minor and would be a felon. I would never be able to return to the USA again, even if Trump never succeeds. I would be forever cut off from my parents and sister, not to mention the other friends and family who support me. My boifriend would be forced to cut off contact with me as they're in the Navy and for them to be in a relationship with a felon and kidnapper they'd be drummed out of the service.

Leave the country without my daughter, abandoning her to face the final 1.5 years before she turns 18 without my support. Even if I did everything right to (somehow) keep in contact with her until she turns 18, I'm still abandoning her in this scenario. Far more likely is that I'd be charged with felony child support evasion and all my rights as a parent would be stripped from me, and most likely I'd never hear from my daughter again.

For me, this is not a choice. I cannot abandon my daughter. If being trans is made illegal per Project 2025, I will be going to prison. I will not "detransition," I will not kill myself, I will never give the Christofascist Nazis that have taken over this country what they want. I will not go quietly, and I will live as though my life will be the example my daughter needs to fight an unjust system because she watched me stand firm and spit in the face of evil.

But if you don't have to stay, please leave as fast and as safely as you can. We lost a century of progress for transfolk when the Nazis last rose to power. We nearly got buried because they came for us first. No matter what happens to America, TRANS FOLK MUST LIVE AS WITNESS!

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dixonsgirl93 · 1 year ago

Text

Vengeance: A Daryl Dixon Imagine (Part 2)

Warnings: murder, PTSD, cussing, verbal abuse, violence

Pronouns: she/her

Word count: 3.1k

Era: Prison

Content description: Y/N finds the Dixon brothers getting ready to leave to find and kill your abusive ex. You manage to find him and his group in a building in the city you mentioned. Daryl intends to kill him but you stop him and end up doing it yourself… A lot of anxiety and guilt is involved, even a couple of panic attacks but the brothers find their own way of helping you through it all. And a spark seems to grow between you and Daryl…(part 3?)

A/N: I did try to proof read this a few times but please excuse any spelling or grammar mistakes. Enjoy!

Later that night, you find yourself unable to relax, spending hours tossing and turning and growing increasingly frustrated. Unwelcome images and phantom hands plagued your mind. The man was dead. You watched as Daryl, fierce and angry, released the arrow into his head. Unfortunately, in your head he was still very much alive. Your mind, taking an opportunity in the dark cell to create a horrific story that Daryl had not got to you in time, or hadn't been able to kill your potential kidnapper.

By 5:30, when the sky outside was a lighter shade of blue, you gave up trying to sleep. You got up, dressed, grabbed your book and went to leave your room. Your eyelids felt heavy and your body ached for rest but at the hiss of a voice, you stopped still halfway down the stairs, suddenly quite alert. Obviously, this wasn't a walker situation but who else would be up at this time? Wearily, as quietly as you could, you crept down the rest of the stairs and followed the sound. The noises became more distinct: hushed voices and a rustling of a bag. Keeping to the side of the wall, the sounds took you in the direction of the cafeteria...and Merle's cell... Who...?

You were saved from wondering when two figures emerged from Merle’s cell.

“What the hell?” You exclaimed, a little too loudly. You walk over to them, dropping your book on a nearby table.

“Y/N? The hell you doin’ up?” Daryl grunted, crossbow by his side, duffle bag at his feet.

“Couldn’t sleep. Where are you going at this time? Another run?” You fold your arms and frown.

“Go back to bed.” Daryl waves you off, picks up the bag and turns. Merle just watches you, a slight smirk on his face.

“No.” You rush forward and block Daryl’s way.

“Trust me. Just-” Merle started.

You turn to him. “Trust you? Why? What are you doing?” You step to the side as Daryl does, still blocking his way. He finally looks down at you. He sighs heavily and it clicks.

“You’re going to find him, aren’t you? That’s why you’re sneaking out.” You look between the two men but neither of them deny it. An idea pops into your head and before you even fully process it you blurt it out. “Take me with you.”

Daryl defrosts, he places a hand on your shoulder to push you to the side. “No way.”

“This is gonna be dangerous, little lady.” Merle steps forward and looks down at you.

“I don’t care. Listen, I know him better than either of you. I can help. Take me with you.” You look between the two of them but Daryl is already shaking his head and Merle is watching him.

“We can do this without you. You said he lives in [location], right? Well, that’s all we need to know. If he ain’t there we’ll come right back.” Daryl says so matter-of-factly you almost believe him.

“Bullshit. I’m smarter than I might look, Daryl. Don’t lie to me.” You move in between them and the door again, going up a couple of steps so now you were the same height. “I’ll be with you two, right? So I’ll be safe. Listen, I’ll take a car and follow you anyway. So you may as well take me with you.” You fold your arms.

“We’re wasting time ‘ere. The others’ll be waking up soon.” Merle steps forward, grabbing the duffel bag from his brother. “Let’s just go.”

“Fine.” Daryl growled and pushed ahead of you both. Merle waved his hand for you to go next. You follow Daryl with an increasing sense of foreboding building in your stomach.

In the car, 15 minutes down the road, Merle leans over from the back seat, resting his arms on both seats. He turns to face you. “So, what did this guy do?”

Memories of your ex flood your brain. Where do you even start? You heave a sigh and decide to keep it simple. “Well, he’s a complete narcissist. Your typical controlling, manipulative asshole. He…found creative ways to physically harm me without outright hitting me. I guess he figured it wasn’t abuse.” You shrug, staring out the front window.

“How long were y’all together?” Merle asks.

“Around 4 years.”

“Why stay?”

“Fear. I was young and naive and shy when he met me. Easy prey. I didn’t know any better and I was terrified of him.” You felt your throat begin to close as the memories became clearer in your mind.

“What does he look like?” Daryl piped in, speaking for the first time since we left the compound.

“Well, I heard he looked a little different when he got out of prison. Long dark hair, beard, medium build, average height, glasses…uh.” You racked your brain. “He sounds really average looking. But that’s where I can help. You don’t even know what he looks like and he could just lie about who he is.”

Nobody says anything for a long time. You wondered if they were thinking about your ex, about the kind of person they were gonna meet.

The rest of the car ride was virtually uneventful, passing the odd walker. A couple hours later you were approaching the place. You’d not been to the actual place your ex was last known to be living. You couldn’t help but start looking for clues he was or had ever been there. Of course there was nothing but anxiety rose in you regardless.

Daryl parked the car behind a nearby building, you all got out and got your weapons handy. Daryl looked around at you. “Any idea where to start?”

You looked around again and slowly shook your head. “I don’t know.” You say softly. “I’ve never actually been here before. I only heard he was living here after he got out of prison. I’m sorry.” The weight of the situation sat heavy in your chest. You felt the brothers' eyes on you and shrank beneath them. “I’m not much help. We came out here for nothing.”

“Naw. I ain’t giving up yet.” Daryl shouldered his crossbow and walked away. You and Merle followed.

“That’s the spirit!” Merle said, staying close to you, almost protectively.

You suggest starting in an apartment building for any clues.

A couple hours later the sun was high in the sky as you reached near the top of yet another building. In here you heard voices. Could this be it? No chance. You honestly thought this plan was useless. In a whole city with little to go on? It was futile.

Daryl leading, he steps forward quietly, crossbow raised and ready, towards the voices. Several different voices, all male, you noticed. Anxiety spiked in your stomach.

You reach a wide hallway, the voices more distinct and coming from double doors across the hall. You couldn’t see any movement though. Daryl motions for you and Merle to wait while he peeks inside and then motions for you to peek in too to see if you recognise anyone.

Your breath hitches and you swallow hard. No way. He was really there, sitting at the far back to the right, he was leaning on a windowsill glaring outside.

You open your mouth to speak but Daryl shakes his head and mouths, “is he in there?” You suck in your bottom lip and nod.

Carefully, he motions you all to go into a room next to you. Here you notice your breathing becoming faster but your chest getting tighter. You clutch it and wince and walk towards an open window. Daryl is by your side instantly. You notice Merle stays by the door, looking around, his knife hand raised and ready.

“Panic attack?” He asks from a couple paces away, giving you space. All you can manage is a nod. He’s ill-equipped to deal with this situation. “Shit.” He turns on the spot, rubbing the back of his neck. “Carol is better at handling this stuff.”

“I’m sorry.” You whimper, leaning over the windowsill, trying desperately to calm your nerves and take deeper breaths. “I’m sorry.” You repeat, feeling guilt on top of panic and anxiety.

“Shh. Hey.” Daryl steps closer, placing a tentative hand on your back. “None of this is your fault, Y/N.”

“He’s the one at the far back, with the glasses and ponytail.”

Daryl nods. “This’ll be over soon, okay?” He pays you awkwardly on the back and walks back over to Merle who looks up at his approach. You can just about hear them whisper.

“He’s here.” Daryl says.

Merle’s eyebrows raise and then he frowns. “We doing this, then?”

Daryl nods and turns back to you, scanning the room with his eyes. He silently walks around the room. There’s no other doors and definitely no walkers, but you say nothing. He walks over to you and leans down slightly to look into your eyes.

“Hide behind that bookshelf and I’ll come get you in 10 minutes, okay?” He then turned and he and Merle left the room.

You didn’t hide. You stood frozen and watched the door as if expecting Ben (your ex) to walk through it, angry as ever.

Through the open window to your right, you hear (but not see) the group abruptly stop talking. You had asked in the car about the brothers plan but they refused to tell you.

There’s a shuffling sound “What the fuck? Who the fuck are you?” An unfamiliar voice answers.

“Real question is, who are you? See, I’m lookin’ for someone an’ it’ll be real helpful if you played nice and told me yer name.” Merle drawls casually, but you’d known him long enough to hear the tone of caution and threat.

“I’m Greg. Are you sure who you’re looking for is here?” The guy replied.

“Positive.” Merle replied.

“You.” Daryl’s voice was dark and he was trying to suppress the anger as he spoke but failed.

“Me? Why? Who are you?” Ben spoke for the first time and you felt another spike of anxiety in your stomach.

“Just wanna talk is all.” Merle answered pleasantly. He was far too good at playing pretend. “Let’s step outside.”

You were sure Ben was going to flat out refuse them. Instead, there was a short silence and then the sound of movement. At this point you were almost at the door, your feet having taken you against your better judgement.

“Bro, don’t.” A new voice spoke, quieter, pleading almost. Ben seemingly ignored him and the 3 of them stepped outside.

“What’s going on?” Ben’s voice was clearer and you could have sworn you heard real fear.

“Do you know Y/N?” Daryl growled. You gasped, for some reason not expecting him to bring your name up but then realising he wanted confirmation.

“You know her?” There was disbelief in Ben’s voice. “Who the fuck are you and what did she say? She’s a fucking liar, you know. Don’t believe anything that bitch says. She-“ his voice got choked off.

“Say another damn word about her. I dare you.” Daryl growled low in his throat, real anger showing now.

You were standing right the other side of the door and could just make out the back of Daryl’s jacket through the slit in the open door.

There was silence for a few moments and then a scuffle. You saw Daryl’s back move and instinctively you reached for the door handle, flinging it open to find Merle holding a struggling Ben. Daryl had Ben’s shirt balled in his fist, his other hand was raised, holding his knife.

“Y/N?!” Ben exclaimed. Your heart seemed to stop as your eyes met. You froze in the doorway.

“I said I’d come get you!” Daryl growled, turning back to finish what he was doing.

“Wait!” You put your hand on Daryl’s back and he freezes.

“Don’ tell me yer changed ya mind?” Merle asks incredulously, huffing slightly with the effort to hold Ben still.

You step around to Daryl’s other side reaching up to take his knife. Ignoring the confused looks on Merle and Ben’s faces, you keep your eyes locked on Daryl’s. He understands and steps back.

“What…?” Merle asks.

You stand before Ben and look him in the eyes once more. You fantasised about this very moment for years and now you were here. Something in you told you he’s still a human, you can’t do it, you can’t kill him. But all the years of built-up rage for all the shit he did not only to you but other people, and the rumours you heard too, were way stronger. These feelings and memories grew so loud you didn’t hear that Ben was trying to yell for help, you didn’t hear that the door behind you opened and more feet were approaching you. At that moment you didn’t care what happened, so long as this did.

And with everything you could muster, you thrust the blade into Ben’s stomach. He coughed, staring wide-eyed at you in fear and panic. For a moment again, it felt wrong and then you remembered all the times he made you feel as scared as he looked, when he made you feel small and worthless and unloved and like you wanted to die to escape the hell.

The one thing that delighted you was the look in his eyes as you yanked the blade back out. His eyes, which had always been black and cold were now full of emotion.

“It takes you dying to finally show an emotion other than anger? You’re pathetic.” You spit, driving the blade into his stomach again and yanking it out. His feet collapsed under him but Merle kept a hold.

Ben tried to speak but gurgled and coughed out blood. He looked at it like he was surprised to see it. Merle let him fall to the ground, clutching his stomach, twitching horribly and with spluttering breaths. You could almost hear his lungs filling with blood.

You feel a gentle hand on your arm that makes you jump but you cant seem to tear your eyes away.

“Let us take care of this, now.” Daryl’s voice, though rough around the edges, speaks in your ear softly. He gently pushes you toward the way you came in, away from Ben.

Another hand touches the middle of your back briefly. “I didn’t know you had it in you, girl. Gotta say im proud.” Merle’s voice sounds amused and amazed.

“Me neither.” You admitted, stating at the wall, lost in thought. “I fantasised about all the ways I’d kill him. There were a lot of creative and painful ways too.” You turn to watch Daryl standing up, wiping the wet blade across Ben’s now-still leg. The other men who were with Ben watched on with horror. When Daryl turned to them, their eyes widened.

“Don’t kill us. We hardly knew him. Please.” One of the men, shorter, sunken eyes says from the outer edge.

“It was just him we wanted.” Daryl nods at the body on the ground and steps around it. “Go make something of yerselves or yer gonna starve away up ‘ere.” He calls over his shoulder.

Daryl walks up to you, now almost with fear himself, he stands close, blocking your view and crouches down. “you good?” he asks.

You heave a sigh and look into his eyes. “I don’t know.” You admit.

“I’m proud of you, Y/N.” Daryl almost whispers it and you can’t help but smile because that’s exactly what Merle just said.

“Proud… for murdering someone. Weird.” But you grin anyway and feel a slap on your back.

“It ain’t murder if they’re scum like him. Yer just takin’ out the trash.” You turn as Merle grins down at you. You roll your eyes.

“Let’s get outta here before they attract trouble.” Merle glances over your shoulder at the other men.

“Them?” you ask, bewildered.

“Trust me, little slayer. I met plen’y of guys like ‘em before. Don’ believe the fear. They can still call people in to finish us off. We better get goin’.” He ushers you toward the door. Daryl slips ahead of you, blade ready.

Daryl grunts in agreement.

We make it to the car when a familiar wave of panic washes over me and the reality sinks in.

“I just killed someone.” You whisper, staring at the dashboard.

“He hurt you. He deserved it.” Daryl stated. “I woulda done it for ya. You wouldn’t have even known if ye’d stayed at the prison. Don’t start having any regrets now cause they’ll just eat at yah and you’ve got enough to worry about.” He gestured in front of him and you understood. He was right, of course. He had starting pulling away as he said all this.

Merle reached forward and patted your shoulder. “You did good, kid. Be proud.”

Back at the compound. It was now late afternoon, everyone would be wondering where they’d got to. They reached the gate where Rick and Michonne were watching the car approach. It was hard to say if they were angry or not.

“Wait.” You put your hand over Daryl’s on the steering wheel. He looks down at it then up at you but pulls the car to a stop a few feet away from the gate. There are a few walkers against the fence. You knew you couldn’t stall too long.

“Time to face the music, m’afraid. It’ll be fine.” Daryl patted your knee affectionately but it did little to calm your nerves.

He pulls inside and parks up.

“Where the hell were you?” Rick is first to ask, looking between all of you.

“Had something to take care of.” Daryl grunted. He walked to the boot to get his things.

“What things?” Rick followed him to the back of the car. “Wait! I’m not done with you.” You and Rick turn to see Merle backing up slowly. Merle sighs and steps forward again, next to you. He nudges you and winks.

“Last run we ran into trouble. I took care of it but…this was personal.” Daryl said.

“We need you here. You can’t go running off for-“

“You ain’t the boss of me, Rick. It’s done. We’re back.” Daryl starts to walk back to the prison but Rick is quick to follow.

“I’m not trying to control you but there’s a system in place. You didn’t tell anyone you were leaving. For all we know you coulda been killed out there.” Rick admitted.

“It’s done. Don’ worry about it.” Daryl said again and kept walking.

Apparently the matter was over…until Rick turned to you and Merle. He looked so much like a fed-up dad you almost laughed. Instead he just sighed and followed Daryl. You and Merle looked at each other looking and feeling like naughty teenagers.

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