#asa views himself as the darkness and arkin as the light

[chaotic-toby]

Asa holds Arkin up on a pedestal. In his eyes, Arkin is basically a God. He is everything good in the world, and Asa would do anything for Arkin

[wsbhonni]

Sanctuary (Chapter 1: Awake to You)

Description (copied from Ao3):

The Collector's obsession with his favorite thief went too far, leading him into voluntarily allow Arkin to capture, torture and kill him- fully expecting to die. But Arkin couldn't do it, so now they're at a standoff at Arkin's apartment- which resulted in sex.

Asa's crush on Arkin prior to this can be described by reading "Dogmatica" - on the [The Collector/Arkin O'Brien] tag. Note: Although "Dogmatica" belongs to a series, in this context it poses more as a general idea to Asa's infatuation with Arkin, and is not related to the canon of this fic <3

Tags (copied from Ao3): The Collector/Arkin O'BrienThe Collector & Arkin O'Briencollectkin - RelationshipArkin O'BrienThe Collector (Collector Series)Asa Emorycollab ficWe wrote this in our private dmstaking turns to write the next part as we goPorn With PlotThinly veiled excuse to write these two having sex(Kinda) Canon-compliantbut with A LOT of headcannons and personal interpretationsweird enemies/fuck buddies to loversSub! AsaBut sometimes its the other way aroundbut mostly Arkin fucking Asa's brains outCanon-Typical ViolenceName-CallingAsa is AutisticSmutShameless SmutAlso Asa has piercings- Wesley said soDom! ArkinImplied/Referenced TortureGayGay gay sexrough gay gay sexArkin just straight ignoring he's having a moral crisisAsa tried to get killed but failed so now he's fucking the guy who tried to kill himhe's mildly depressed but that's okaythey are both running away from their problemsSlow BurnSlow BuildAsa has an established crush on Arkin but we havent gotten to that yet tsk tsk tskTags May ChangeNo beta we die like Abby-Topaz-Chad-Lucello-Victoria-Jill-Uhhhhh and the 267 party ravers

"-" : Wsbhonni (MaddlyUpsetti) "*": Orange (SpoopyDooper) (And yes, we did edit each others parts as well! For the sake of transparency lol-)

--

*A dream played out before the killer’s eyes before the world fades to black.

Only for him to blink again, his eyes open at the blurry mosaic of a white wall adorned with a few tiny pictures, and a wooden dresser next to a well-used coat hanger. The warm light spilling into his view making him wince. His muscles strains under the slightest movement, when he tries to grasp at the blanket covering him. His thoughts jump to the soft mattress beneath his aching body - is he dead yet? If not, is this the hospital? 

He isn’t entirely sure, but he knows that he is breathing. 

-Asa was too weak to move properly- he wasn't paralyzed, he checked by wiggling his fingers and toes. The room surrounding him was small, lived in and homie. If his whole body wasn't screaming at him to stay still, he would have gotten up and investigated further. Instead, he craned and turned his head, trying to focus on one of the small pictures that decorated the room. A larger frame sat atop the dresser, next to an old television. Once his eyes adjusted, he saw the picture was of a little girl with long dark-brown hair and a tan complexion.

Her smile was vibrant, reaching her squinting eyes- and infecting the man who was holding her and planting a sweet kiss to her cheek. The man, Asa could recognize from a million miles away- was Arkin. A picture of Arkin holding his daughter. The urge to shoot out of bed and examine the pictures rushed through him- but Asa only managed to flop.*The injured man forces himself to lie down, while his vision darts around the room in the meantime. However, his body hopelessly gave up to fatigue- waiting for, presumably, Arkin to come back. Darkness once more engulfed him, leaving whatever that bumps around the expansive environment outside this room to indicate that he is somewhere safe. 

Birds chirped outside, paired with wind blowing between trees, swishing against the window next to the dresser. Asa caught glimpses of other buildings through blinking gaps. He’s in a house or perhaps an apartment- most likely Arkin’s. He’s also possibly in the man’s room too, and this is probably his bed. The thoughts make him squirm. 

A million thoughts rush through what's still slowly recovering from his memory. The killer wonders why Arkin even bothered to keep him alive. Part of him is grateful but the rest would rather jump out the window right now, whatever’s left is there to buzz behind his eye sockets and conjure up bile to gather in his dry pharynx. 

He hopes Arkin comes back soon. 

— — — — — — — — — — 

-When Asa woke up again, the first thing he saw was a familiar silhouette setting a bowl of what seemed to be soup down, still steaming. Next to it, was an unopened plastic water bottle, cold with beads of condensation dripping onto the nightstand. Arkin didn't notice the man was awake and watching him, until he turned to leave, only for his voice to reach him

"What are you doing?" Asa asked, his voice low and weak.

It still made Arkin jump- causing him to turn around and see the man staring at him.

"'Bout time y’ woke up," Arkin greeted almost blankly, "How you feel?"

Asa's confusion was palpable, "Why do you care?" He asked.

"Cause I went through a lot of trouble faking your death and bringin' ya here. Would hate havin' you die on me after all that." Arkin shrugged, as if that answered anything.

*Asa remains confused, the other man knows damn well what he was asking about, he just doesn’t want to answer right now- to be honest he hasn't thought of an answer yet. Was it pity? Probably. Arkin can’t decipher the array of emotions he felt that led him to sparing Asa- nor does he want to make sense of them now.

Asa stayed silent, looking at Arkin like a lost child.

“Just eat and stay inside the house. Don’t go anywhere, I’ll be back soon.” A tired and dismissive voice replied into the awkward silence. 

He then stepped halfway out the door before an Asa- who’s almost frantically trying to make him stay, spoke up again: 

“Where are you going?”

Arkin glances back : “It’s almost 8am. Work.” The door closes once again leaving Asa alone, and confused.

[slash-em-up]

Priceless pt. 2: The Collector x Reader

OK. Holidays are over. Enough feel-good fluff, let’s get back to the angst and whump. Jkjkjkjk but for real this one is not fun. Trigger warning for torture and child abuse!!!

Pt. 1 Here

———————————————————————

Your head felt like it was about to explode.

The pain made you moan as your eyes slowly slid open. The dim light of the room barely improved your situation, and the you tried to focus on the source of the baleful yellow light.

It flickered from a lamp sitting abandoned on a scratched and dusty table.

The floor beneath your bare feet was cold cement. You were apparently in some type of basement.

As more sensations began to register in your body, you realized that your arms were tied behind the back of the chair you’d been placed in - a layer of duct tape wrapping around your chest holding you tight to the seat.

Where were you?

“Oh hey sweetheart. Nice of you to join us.”

Your eyes darted up to see Arkin standing across the length of the room from you, rifling through a duffle bag and pulling various tools and metal objects out before placing them deliberately on a table.

It wasn’t until you saw Asa behind him that the severity of your situation really started to sink in.

Arkin had stripped Asa and tied him to a chair much like the one you were seated on. Unlike you, his ankles and arms were tied directly to the hard surface as well. You could see his fists curled, testing the strength of the metal cuffs wrapped around his wrists.

His eyes were hidden behind another strip of duct tape, and his ears were covered with headphones.

Arkin saw your pale and ill expression as you observed the larger man.

“Noise canceling headphones. He can’t hear shit right now.”

He strode over to stand behind the bound man.

“That was always the worst part for me – not knowing what he was gonna do next… I don’t have the fancy set up like he does… or, did. But I can improvise.”

Arkin set his hands softly on Asa’s bare shoulders, and you watched in shocked horror as Asa flinched harshly and began to thrash against the bonds holding him.

Letting out a chuckle, Arkin patted Asa on the cheek, moving his fingers away quickly as Asa snapped his teeth, trying to bite.

“He’s a fighter, your guy. Gotta give him props for that. I wasn’t expecting anything different; but even after I put him in the trunk hooo boy…”

Arkin moves his sleeve up to show you a deep set of fresh gouges in his arm.

“He got one hand loose, and that was that. Not making that mistake again.”

You swallowed nervously.

“Arkin… you don’t have to do this. You can still turn us in, I’ll confess to everything… I’ll make him confess … just… please don’t do this.”

The slender man looked at you with a hard expression before scoffing.

“Because the state’s definitely gonna give him what he deserves… Nah, honey. I want this man dead. I want him to hurt like he hurt me… and I want you to watch it all happen.”

A warm tear dripped down your face as you began to realize neither you nor Asa would probably be making it out of this alive.

Arkin’s pale blue eyes followed the trail of the tear as it moved from your cheek to your chin; gaze momentarily softening before breaking to return to his main captive.

He cleared his throat.

“One thing I learned while I was the good doctor’s guest was that different people respond differently to different kinds of stimulation…. What made me scream didn’t necessarily work on his other pets.”

Your wet gaze followed Arkin as he moved to the table and grabbed a wicked looking serrated knife.

“For example, I can do this…”

Fast as a wink he turned and pulled the blade across Asa’s left pectoral, leaving a streaming red line in his wake.

Asa grit his teeth behind his lips, but didn’t make a sound.

“… and I barely get anything.”

The knife was abandoned to the floor.

“But if I do this…”

He moved his palm to lay flat against Asa’s mouth and nose, cutting off his air.

The effect was immediate. Asa let out a muffled cry – somewhere between a scream and a growl – and writhed. Using everything he had in him to dislodge the hand still pressed to his skin.

Arkin grinned as he took his hand away, letting the offending limb drift to his side as he stood beside Asa’s heaving form.

“Completely different reaction, right?”

You shuddered as you watched Asa try to calm himself, taking deep breaths in and out through his nose as he visibly shook.

“Seems like our boy gets a bit more worked up by the hands-on approach than by any of this junk. Not really surprising, considering his history…”

He must have seen some confusion in your gaze and gave another low chuckle.

“I suppose that’s not really the kind of thing a big bad serial killer wants to share… so I’ll do him a solid and let you ask him about it later.”

You licked your dry lips.

“Later?”

Arkin nodded decisively.

“I plan on getting at least a few weeks of fun out of Dr. Emory here before I send him Downstairs. You’ll have time to catch up.”

With that he pulled the headphones and tape away from Asa’s face.

Asa blinked several times trying to let his eyes adjust to the sudden light before they focused on you.

You could literally see his muscles clench in anger as his dark gaze turned to Arkin, blazing.

“They have nothing to do with this.”

Arkin whirled and punched Asa in his gut – causing the seated figure to hunch in on himself with a grunt of pain.

Fingers twisted themselves in Asa’s hair as Arkin yanked his head to the side and leaned down.

“Maybe not, but they have something to do with you – and that’s good enough for me.”

Asa spat in Arkin’s face, looking like he was moments away from tearing the metal cuffs that held him apart and lunging at the smaller man.

Wiping spittle from his face, Arkin grabbed a nearby bucket and hoisted it high, letting the contents fall over Asa’s naked body.

Ice and water splashed over the cold cement floor as you gasped at the sudden turn of events.

The chill of the late winter air was prevalent in your mind as Asa began to shiver violently.

The basement stairs creaked as Arkin ascended, hitting light switches on his way up.

“Goodnight you crazy kids. See you in the morning.”

The door closed, and you were left in the bitter cold of the dark room, wondering what new horrors tomorrow would bring.

———————————————————————

You couldn’t recall falling into an uncomfortable slumber, but you must have. Pale slivers of sunlight threaded past the thick foam covering the small basement windows. You sickly realized that this must be for sound-proofing. Not a good sign.

The basement felt warmer than it had been last night. A small space heater in one corner was blowing warm air onto Asa, who was either asleep or unconscious – his head hung low on his chest, but he was no longer shivering.

A sound that had been your own personal torture through the long night.

He hadn’t said a word to you after Arkin left – not even responding to your inquiries after his health in the chill darkness. After several tries you’d given up – unsure if it was pride or if he was actually incapable of answering.

Soft sounds of movement from behind your chair brought you back to reality.

You were not alone down here.

“Arkin… please let us go. You aren’t a killer. You don’t want to do this…”

A deep chuckle met your statement.

Your eyes widened as a tall man with grey hair– looking to be in his late 50’s or early 60’s- strode into view.

“Hello there. How are you feeling this morning?”

The man dragged a chair out of the corner and sat down between your seat and Asa – casually crossing one leg over the other and setting an arm on his knee. Looking for all the world like he was sitting down at a coffee date rather than a drafty basement torture chamber.

Brows furrowing, you paused before answering.

“… I’ve been better…”

Your statement was met with a hum of amusement.

“I suppose you probably have. But all things considered, you could be worse.”

“… I’m sorry, I don’t think I got your name?”

Another soft laugh – somehow familiar – was your only answer.

Any further questions were put on hold as Asa groaned and began to stir in his seat.

“Asa…”

Both of you watched – you with concern, the strange man with something like humor – as the bound and naked man shook his head as if clearing cobwebs, and raised his eyes to gaze around the room.

The black eyes you knew so well stopped at the strange man casually watching from the proverbial sidelines.

Asa’s face immediately drained of blood till he was white as a ghost, and his mouth dropped open in shock.

The man laughed loudly at this, slapping his hand against his knee before rising and walking over to Asa.

Up to this point, you’d been more confused than upset by the elderly man’s presence in the basement; but that confusion quickly turned to fear as you watched Asa pull back and try to make himself as small as possible as the broad man approached.

“So… You’re the Collector, hmm? Interesting moniker. Mr. O’Brian gave me a brief overview of some of your exploits. I have to say, I’d be impressed if you hadn’t let a man like that get the better of you.”

A wrinkled hand rose to run through Asa’s hair – obsidian eyes pinched closed and if you didn’t know better, you’d think Asa was about to be sick from the expression on his face.

Quick as a flash, a loud SMACK sounded through the empty room as Asa was backhanded across his mouth.

“What have I told you about looking at someone when they’re talking to you?”

Asa’s gaze rose slowly to meet the man’s, who smiled down at the younger male.

“Much better. See? You haven’t forgotten everything.”

Your stomach sunk as you realized why this stranger looked so familiar. You’d seen him before, or rather, what he had been twenty years ago.

He turned to face you again.

“You’re not wrong my dear. Mr. O’Brian isn’t a killer; but I am. And I’d be more than happy to teach my son another lesson on the consequences of failure.”

Giles Emory walked over to the table Arkin had laid out with tools and instruments of pain - running his hand sensuously over each before selecting a hammer and several slender nails.

“That’s what fathers are for…”