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paingoes · 5 months ago

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Destroyer

Medical Conference

hi guys um. i cant stop writing destroyer. i swear ill figure out a system to organize these “bonus” chapters soon i promise i promise

delta is eighteen in this but the chapter delves into abuse he experienced when he was a child so cw for that

(Content: living weapon whumpee, lab whump, medical whump, put on display, dehumanization, conditioning, noncon drugging, needles, non-consensual/nonsexual nudity, noncon touching, physical abuse, emotional whump, angst, child abuse, child death mention, parental whump?)

“I forgot, sir,” Delta tried weakly. He knew as soon as he said it that he should’ve just kept quiet.

“No, you didn’t. You’re going to lie about it as well?” Dr.Martino shut down the attempt, focusing his attention back to the device.

Delta laid down unmoving against the steel table as the scanner searched over him. It gave him mild electric shocks each time it passed. Of course, he hadn’t been looking forward to the diagnostic tests. But he hadn’t been trying to get out of it entirely. That wouldn’t have worked. He only wanted more time to psych himself up for it. Too long, apparently. He’d had to be collected for it. It’d been a bad note to start on.

The rest of the exam went on in silence, without anymore mention of his avoidance. As Delta redressed, he thought he might’ve been off the hook for it. Dr.Martino was fumbling though his desk drawers like he’d already left.

He produced two unopened packs of pencils from inside the desk. Delta deflated a little bit.

Delta took the pencils and arranged them in two rows along the floor, lined up flush against one another. Gingerly, he kneeled down on top of them.

“Hands behind your back,” the doctor said, leaning back in his chair.

Already there. He knew the drill. He lowered his head, silently counting. No longer than twenty minutes, usually. No fewer than ten.

When he looked up again, Martino was leaning back against the table, flipping through a folder.

“The ISCEM conference is coming up in a month,” he said offhandedly, as if this would mean something to him.

“Okay?” Delta answered, more in confusion than anything else. He hadn’t meant for it to be disrespectful.

Nevertheless, Dr.Martino’s shoe pressed down against his calf, driving the pencils further into his skin.

��Yes, sir,” he quickly corrected himself. The pressure disappeared. The pain stayed where it was.

“You were probably too young to remember the last one, weren’t you?” Dr.Martino sighed.

“Yes, sir.” He didn’t really think about it. He was pretty distracted by the numbness traveling down his legs.

“Well, put it on your calendar. Don’t want you forgetting again.”

“Yes, sir.”

He didn’t have a calendar.

“Mention the steady-state thing we discussed. I have files on it, I - is it too late to make a copy? I will. And if you could just please pass along a message for me, I would be ever so grateful,” Simon went on, fumbling through his own briefcase, trying to give what he could. Dr.Martino took the reports from him, flipping them around to see the equations he’d scribbled onto the back.

“You’re not coming? Sir?” Delta added the “sir” on as an afterthought, conscious of the doctor’s presence. Simon himself rarely demanded such formalities.

“Don’t interrupt,” Dr.Martino snapped, more tense than usual. But Simon obliged him, stepping a little closer.

“Not my scene.” Simon patted his head. It was soft, but Delta reflexively flinched away from any hands that drew too near to his face.

Something on the desk beeped. The transit had rafted up.

Delta held his wrists up easily as Martino presented the cuffs. They were psychic tech, meant to restrict his powers more than the collar already did. Presumably some kind of safety measure. He felt his world going flat as they clicked into place, all his spatial awareness reduced to a single field of view. The effect was extremely disorienting. He nearly fell over getting off of the table.

He’d mostly evened out by the time they’d gotten to the hotel. He sat idly against the chair he’d been placed in, watching the doctor unpack. Everything in the room was the same shade of beige.

It seemed like they should’ve been able to go. Martino abruptly produce a vial from the bag. Delta recognized it as a sedative. He inserted the syringe into it, drawing it back up.

“I’ll behave, sir,” Delta offered. He eyed the needle warily; he’d usually have been given something in the way of warning.

Martino shook his head. He took a firm grip of Delta’s arm.

“Believe me, this is for your own good.”

Delta tensed his arm up, holding still as the needle entered him. Something cold shot into his veins. It took a long time for the chamber to empty.

It hit him before they even reached the elevator. He clung to Martino’s arm, needing something to brace himself against, however briefly. Martino assured him he wouldn’t have to stand for long. They moved backstage at the panel. Delta nearly collapsed into the fold-up chair.

The cuffs were briefly removed as he was given the medical gown to wear. His hands moved slower than he would’ve liked, but he was able to put it on. It tied along the front, leaving much of his chest exposed.

Dr.Martino took a minute to make sure it was fitted correctly. He cursed, noticing for the first time the visible boot print against the side of Delta’s ribs.

“Great. They’re going to think I beat you.”

You do beat me, Delta thought. Not as much as he used to. Not as much as Paris. But Martino still hit him.

The doctor felt over the bruise with his hand, reigniting the pain. Delta winced. It was recent — still tender. The sedative helped a bit. All his thoughts were coming to him in a haze.

There was nothing that could be done to cover it, so apparently they were just going to ignore it. The cuffs came back on around his wrists. He led Delta out onto the platform regardless, sitting him up against the stool. It was had a back to it, luckily. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to stay upright without it. He’d been trained enough not to slouch or to look so outwardly high, but it was definitely a struggle to maintain neutrality. He kept his head down. It was the safest, the easiest to maintain for a long period. People gradually filed in. Though he was used to being put on display, the sterility and lack of decorum in this new space made the whole thing feel all the more jarring. It all felt far away, though.

His eyes closed without meaning to. When he tuned back in, Dr.Martino was droning on. He recognized some of the words. He would’ve recognized more if he wasn’t drugged. It was a talk about internal power generation. Conduits. There was a hand on his shoulder. Delta stood up from the chair. The gown was pulled down a bit from his shoulders.

Martino pressed the multimeter to his collarbones, watching the number climb until it broke. He pulled it away before it could burn up completely. He pressed a thin disk up against Delta’s chest, where it held there. It was some kind of controller. A thin arc of electricity emerged from it without any conscious intention on his part. More appeared, each of them branching away from his body like a plasma ball. The effect was immediate; that familiar fear crept into the eyes of the audience.

It cut all at once. The disk was removed. Delta sat back down on the chair, pulling the gown back up over himself.

The lights darkened. Behind him, a clip show began to play. He didn’t need to look back. He’d seen it plenty of times. Different explosions, annihilations, destructions. All his own work. He could recount each of them to the second. It played for a long time.

For some reason, they clapped when it was over.

“Sorry — do you mind if I look at it?”

Delta opened his eyes again, sensing the it in question. He tensed up.

He hated being touched. The moderator stripped the gown back again. He felt the electric pulse still going about Delta’s clavicle. His hands traveled around the collar.

“I’m biomedical by trade,” the man explained, tapping at the gold, “This is custom, yes? When was it made?”

“The model’s about five years old. It gets updated about once a year.”

“Incredible. I see some scarring, though.”

Delta shivered as the fingers traced the burn scars by his neck, a bit on his trapezius. They were in the shape of a Lichtenberg figure.

“That seems non-optimal?”

“Those actually predate the collar. They’re a natural result of it overextending itself during an exercise. The restrictor works as a stopgap to prevent that kind of burnout.”

Though he’d expected it, it still jarred Delta just how easily Martino slipped back into calling him it.

Another scientist approached. She slid up to Martino, shaking his hand eagerly.

“Oh, darling.” He embraced her. She grinned, readjusting her jacket as they pulled away.

“Danny, it’s been ages. How are the girls?” Her nails clicked together.

Danny. The girls. Martino actually had a family. Not that he ever saw them. He had daughters. They’d been kids, the one and only time Delta had ever met them. They had to be in their twenties by now.

“Brats, the lot of them. They’re smart, though. Smarter than I was at their age.”

“Well, that’s not saying much.”

Delta was not surprised when her hands traveled onto him. He barely flinched this time. But he hadn’t expected her to speak to him.

“Oh, and look at you. You’re all grown up now, huh?”

She gripped his chin in between her fingers, studying his face. The touch wasn’t harsh, nor was it gentle.

“You probably don’t remember me.”

That was correct. Her face was vaguely familiar, but he could find no memories to attach to it.

“He’s a bit distant at the moment. You’ll have to forgive him,” Martino answered for him.

She released her grip, turning her attention back to the doctor. Even in his current state, it didn’t take him long to put it together. She’d been one of the teachers at the Institute. He wondered how many of them were wandering around out there now. Most of them. Dr.Martino had been the only one to retain some semblance of his position. All the other administrators had been cast away just the same as the students.

He had forgotten nearly every one of their names.

Martino packed up the last of the day’s display materials, arranging all of it back into the suitcase. It’d been a success, as far as these things go. He’d revealed all he could without breaching the terms of his contract. All the real science was under a strict NDA. It was nice to catch up with some colleagues, though. It was healthy to be off of a spaceship every once in a while.

He tugged Delta’s sleeve, pulling him up from the plastic chair. He took a minute to undo the cuffs; he’d thought they were an excessive measure to begin with and they had prevented any real show of power. Delta rubbed idly at the marks they had left there.

They made their way back up to the hotel room. The drug had not yet worn off; Delta still stumbled a bit when he walked. He’d redressed himself in a thick hoodie, trying to keep out the chill from the overactive AC or perhaps just trying to hide.

The door opened. Martino dropped his suitcase onto the bed. Presumably out of habit, Delta lowered himself to the floor, kneeling there. Waiting for instructions, as if he could have followed them. Martino scoffed.

“You can sit on the bed. I booked a double room for a reason.”

He watched the whole minute it took for his words to sink in. The way it took even longer for Delta to actually rise, blearily climbing up onto the mattress. His hands gripped searchingly across the blanket, pulling up the edges like he needed something to hold onto.

Martino ignored him. He moved to the far side of the room and opened the door to the balcony. The city skyline was clearly visible just down the road. The lights from it shone brighter than the stars from space. Martino produced one of the foreign cigarettes from its packet. The ember burned in the dark night. It was all quiet.

“What was I like when I was little?”

He turned to look at Delta. The kid was drugged out of his mind. He might’ve given him too much.

Dr.Martino took a long drag. He rarely smoked, so used to the endless sterility that he would not so much as dirty the air. But tonight was a rare night.

“What were you like?” He ashed the cigarette, turning back to look at the night skyline. “I don’t remember.”

Delta looked down, disappointed. He pulled the blanket tighter around himself. Martino sighed, losing the battle.

“…You were quiet. Same as you are now. You mostly kept to yourself.”

He gave no visible reaction.

“You didn’t get along so well with the other kids,” Martino admitted, some disdain entering his voice.

Delta looked up. His expression was totally blank.

“Why do you hate me?” he asked.

It was manipulative, and self-pitying in a way that did not flatter him. Martino put the cigarette out. He stepped back into the room.

Delta shrank back a bit. The doctor looked him over. His eyes had dimmed some, no doubt due to the sedative. His hands were unbloodied. Just looking at him, no one would have know what he’d done. Martino remembered the sound of bones snapping and the bodies out in the yard. He remembered the expression Delta had worn the first time he’d killed — as blank and unfeeling as the one he wore now. He did hate him, he supposed. He’d never been his favorite. All his favorites had been buried a long time ago.

He didn’t say that. He remembered his lines — and he cursed himself for ever diverging from them, even for a second. He would correct it now.

“There is no you.”

Delta opened his mouth as if to object, then thought better of it. Good.

“No more talking tonight,” Martino said.

Delta nodded, laying down onto the mattress. He fell asleep with all the lights on.

…………

tags:

@catnykit @snakebites-and-ink @vivulapom @scoundrelwithboba @whatwhump

@pumpkin-spice-whump @deluxewhump @fuckass1000 @fuckcapitalismasshole @defire

@micechomper @writereleaserepeat @aloafofbreadwithanxiety @pigeonwhumps

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m-to-z-andbackto-m · 10 days ago

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No you don't understand, it's not just a hyperfixation, IT'S LITERALLY THE REASON I'M FUNCTIONING 😭

I don't like staying hungry or eating when I'm not sure if I'm hungry or bored because Horror exists, he's been through a famine, tf am I doing???

I get upset about my hypersomnia and I try really hard to not to let it happen because many skeles are associated with narcolepsy

I'm pretty sure consuming skeleton content cured my depression over a few years???

God, I'm literally so dependent on them, I LOVE THEM SO MUCH THO!!!

I try to avoid toxic behaviors when I can identify them, and it's easier to because Nightmare is a toxic guy canonically, I've consumed enough content to know what's right and wrong in the long run

On the other end, seeing content where one or more of them gets comfort helps me navigate some situations because generally I'm not amazing at giving comfort

They also have me think about my philosophy and general beliefs, a lot of them have been done wrong so they do wrong, therefore I believe we should always try to understand each other because communication can avoid huge issues (DreamTale), and I think it's okay for people to take revenge, even to the extent of killing an abuser if the circumstance just happens to be that way (I'm not gonna specify what irl situation I'm thinking of but I do not advocate for murdering people in general guys, but it's only fair to see the motive, people aren't born criminals and sometimes the extreme feels like the only way out one way or another. Essentially, see people for more than their crimes. Of course some people are just disgusting assholes, but you get the idea.)

Having to memorize the lore and world building, along with creators, characters, interpretations, AND variations, doing all this helps me practice organizing thoughts and articulating difficult information

They actually boost my creativity and keep me happy, when I'm stressed, opening Tumblr to my favorite sillies literally takes my mind off whatever was bothering me, like I actually need them to lower any anxiety levels and keep me regulated

However on the downside they can make me very hyper, sometimes so emotionally so that I shut down for a bit because I physically cannot express my adoration for them and it's overwhelming but I never shut down for too long, I love them, they keep me going y'know!

They help me explore diversity and character writing, putting depth and thought into a being, helps me with my own creations <3

Actually, I'm too shy to look at × reader/self insert/(Y/N) content most of the time unless it's platonic (Might just be me being aromantic honestly) BUT I Have seen stuff where they affirm body types and "Flaws" and stuff like that and I think if I was less of a prude I could look at that stuff and it'd make me feel better about my insecurities, but for now my partners are doing a good job at keeping me normal

Essentially I just need all my sillies to work properly!!! 💕 (I'm so sane, and normal, and not senile about them :3)

(CW For Next Bit: Mental Health, Paranoia, Panic Attack Discussed)

Actually about that, my obsession with the skeletons used to be SO bad that I felt like they were always watching me and my brain would involuntarily make me feel paranoid and bad about myself (Possible ODC symptom where you're afraid of being judged for your thoughts/actions?) and I can't tell if it was a panic attack I had a couple years ago where I couldn't keep caring what they "Think" and I just had to scream and sob because you literally can't hold it in during one (If it was this, I guess I sorta pushed them away D:), OR my partners replaced my brain sillies so I feel them to a lesser extent

(Insecurity, Self Care Issues, And Gay Talk 😭 Oh and also mention of paranoia again but not so bad)

Like it used to be so bad I couldn't get up because I felt yucky, but I couldn't take a shower because they were "There", but now it's like, if my partners are my brain sillies, they like me, we'd probably take showers together when we live together and shit like that, it's okay if they're "Watching" me, actually, they're actual people somewhere else, doing something else, they don't just exist because I think of them the way the silly skeles do, they're actually defined and aren't actually around, it's just me thinking about them, it's okay, I don't have to feel so bad or weird about it, of course I still do a bit because insecurity is hard to scrape off, but I think I'm getting a little better and that's all that matters

Anyways point is, I need my wives, both skeletons and real, to function properly or I'm literally DOOMED

#MZM Rambles A Lot #utmv #sans au #undertale au #utmv au #fandom #ut aus #ut au #sans #utmv sans #undertale fandom #utmv fandom #ut au fandom #small vent #hyperfixation

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thus-spoke-lo · 2 years ago

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Pain Management // Trafalgar Law x afab!reader // NSFW/18+

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter Series Masterlist // AO3 Link // Playlist

Chapter 5: Emergency Visit

Chapter Summary: Much to your surprise and your chagrin, Law's unconventional "treatments" were working to provide you relief--until tonight. Out of pain medication and out of options, you drag yourself to your captain's quarters to beg for help.

Chapter CW: afab reader; no specific pronouns used, but gendered pet names used [ex. "good girl"]; themes of extremely dubious consent [emotional and sexual coercion/manipulation, gaslighting, abuse of authority]; over the clothes stimulation [reader receiving]; reader experiences severe, chronic pelvic pain; Stockholm Syndrome-like behavior in reader

WC: 6.1k

There was a part of you—albeit one that was shrinking smaller and smaller with every passing day—that hated how Law’s treatments legitimately did seem to be working. Degrading yourself on his exam room table every few days, lying awake in bed at night and grinding against the heel of your palm with thoughts of his strong hands running over you until you were breathless—all of it seemed to be working effectively to lessen your pain, to keep you feeling productive and useful again, just like you’d wanted.

Except for tonight.

You held a pillow tightly to your abdomen, body curled in on itself, and pressed your face into your other pillow, a growing pool of tears dampening your cheek. You had barely made it through your shift in the boiler room, holding things together by a thin shred of willpower, before practically crawling back to your room, skipping dinner to lay in darkness and grit your teeth and hope the searing hot spasms in your abdomen and shooting pains running down your legs would go away on their own.

Unsurprisingly, they did not, and your condition deteriorated as the evening progressed; you napped feverishly, alternating between bouts of freezing cold that made your teeth chatter and your body tremble uncontrollably no matter how you buried yourself in blankets, and sweating so profusely that you soaked right through your pajamas.

As the evening trudged on, second by agonizing second, you finally gave in and rummaged through your bedside table, looking for the container of special tablets that Chopper made just for you, those special pills that managed to dull the pain without knocking you on your ass like everything else you had tried before. You grasped the bottle with shaking hands, and you heart sank as you realized there was nothing rattling around in the little glass jar.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. You gripped your sheets as another wave of white-hot pain threatened to drown you. You needed sleep. You needed to be able to present yourself for your next work shift without being doubled over, balancing on the precipice of tears.

You needed Law.

The painful throbbing somewhere in the depths of your pelvis was making you sick to your stomach, but the idea of having to stagger down the halls of the submarine, preparing to plead your case to your captain—to beg your doting doctor for relief at this ungodly hour—was making you feel far worse. You crawled out from under your stack of blankets and got to your feet, clinging to every piece of furniture within arm’s length to steady yourself, throwing on whatever clothes you could find that weren’t saturated with sweat, and carefully made your way out of your room.

You padded down the halls, fuzzy socks doing the bulk of the hard work in masking each step; the ship was quiet, only a skeleton crew still active at the moment, but the last thing you needed was anyone questioning what you were doing wandering around doubled over, one arm held tightly over your abdomen as though you were trying to prevent your organs from escaping.

You tried Law’s office first—the cluttered room was mostly dark, illuminated by the soft glow of a small desk light, abundant stacks of papers the only occupants of the space at the moment. You closed the door behind you and considered going to the infirmary next—there had to be pain medication there, you assumed. The idea of clanging around and rummaging through copious cabinets and drawers, however, seemed far too troublesome a task under the circumstance, and the last thing you needed was to end up taking some poorly labeled tablets that would do who-knows-what to you. Sure, you could ask one of your crewmates to point you in the right direction—certainly one of them had to know their way around the medical supplies—but having to admit your illness to anyone but Law was frightening.

The whole point of this farce was to find a way to feel useful again, to not be a burden; the Strawhats never made you feel like one, never made you feel like anything but loved and cared for, but you had yourself thoroughly and completely convinced that they would have gotten sick of it eventually. At least here, you could pretend to be okay, pretend to be normal and productive like everyone else, and save all your weaknesses and imperfections for Law’s exam table, keeping them between you and him and the hum of the fluorescent lights.

You roamed the halls in silent agony, a few sharp twinges making their way down your inner thighs, until you reached the door to Law’s private quarters; this was the only way, you’d decided, that you could get help and still keep your secret to yourself. You breathed in slowly and steeled yourself before softly rapping on the door, ready to throw yourself at his feet if you had to (not that humbling yourself in front of him in the pursuit of relief would be anything new), as long as it meant you could obtain some sort of respite that would let you sleep and feel something adjacent to normal again.

“Captain?” you spoke into the doorframe, your voice hushed. You glanced nervously up and down the hall and waited a beat for any signs of life, but there was only silence. “Captain, are you awake?” This time you knocked a little harder, whispered a little louder, yet there was still nothing. You clenched your eyes shut for a moment, balled-up fist still pressed against the door, and fought back the urge to scream.

It wasn’t his fault—it wasn’t anyone’s fault except your accursed internal organs—that you were stranded yet again in a dark ocean of pain, waving frantically for someone to rescue you and pull you ashore, but you had stupidly held onto the smallest bit of hope that he would be there, condescending smirk and all, waiting to take care of you when you needed him most. You didn’t want to need him—at least you didn’t think you did—but god, did you ever.

Your thoughts were interrupted and you tripped forward as the door moved under you, creaking open just enough for you to glimpse Law’s face, partially masked by shadows.

“What’re you doing here?” he rasped, voice sounding thick with sleep.

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered as you started to back away from the door, “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“S’okay, I wasn’t sleeping.” The way the words came out mumbled left you unconvinced. “Did you—did you need something?”

“I, um.” You stopped, choking on a thick feeling in the back of your throat and trying to swallow it down, blinking away the tears that were starting to form at the corners of your eyes. “I’m just in a lot of pain, and—dammit—I, um, was wondering if maybe you had anything you could give me?”

His gaze settled on you, and his expression seemed to soften while you trembled, your arms crossed and held tightly to your body, your face fixed in an immovable grimace. He blinked hard, clearing the sleep from his eyes, before sticking his head a little further out the door to peer down the hall past you in each direction. “Alright, come in, before anyone sees.”

Law opened the door wider to let you in, stepping out of the way to make room, and you stifled a gasp as you had the opportunity to take him in fully. He was shirtless, the hardness of his tattooed chest and the corrugated leanness of his stomach accentuated by the shadows in the dim light of his small room. The v-shape carved into his lower torso led your eyes further downward, your deviant glare following a trail of dark hair to the waistband of the sweatpants hanging loosely on his hips. You hastily glanced at the floor, feeling your ears start to burn and your pulse thrumming in your ears, the sudden warm flood of arousal between your legs almost enough to distract from the profound pain that overwhelmed you.

Seeing him like this, his lithe body so casually on display, it was easy to remember why you held onto your silly little crush, the one that bloomed when you’d watched him board the Sunny for the first time. You were reminded of how you had practically vibrated at the sight of the dark-haired captain, his long jacket hanging open, revealing a smooth ripple of muscle beneath tanned skin. It was no wonder you fell under his spell so quickly, you thought—he’d had you in his grasp the moment you laid eyes on him.

“You should sit down,” Law insisted as he grabbed a shirt from a pile on the floor and threw it on, and you watched with indecent fascination as the white fabric stretched over his muscled form. You complied without protest and slumped down onto the ground, your back against the cool metal door, trying to gain some measure of composure.

“So what’s going on?” He knelt down in front of you, and grasped your chin in between his thumb and forefinger; he tilted your head up, then down, then from one side to the other, his eyes moving over you the entire time.

“It’s bad,” you answered shakily. “Really bad.”

He held his palm to your forehead and sucked in air through his teeth. “You’re burning up.”

“For now at least.” You offered him a tight-lipped smile. “I’ll be freezing cold in a little bit, guaranteed.”

He sat back on his haunches, cocking his head to one side. “Is it always like this? You mentioned pain when we first discussed things, but nothing quite like what you’re describing right now.”

“Not always.” You chewed on your tongue as a sharp pain rocketed through you. “Just some months. Sometimes I go for a while with just regular pain. And then this”—you gestured at your lower half—“happens.”

“Tell me what you mean by ‘regular pain.’”

“Just—just regular pain. I don’t know what to tell you.” The frustration was building, the familiar exasperation at having to explain this one more time, just like you’d explained to every doctor you’d ever talked to, again and again, until you were worn down to exhaustion. “Most times I’m just in pain, and nights like this I’m in agony. Does that make more sense?”

“Unfortunately, it does.” Law’s eyes scanned your tense body as you pulled your knees up to your chest. “Can you tell me more about how it feels?”

“Right now? Like a hot knife being dragged through me, front and back.”

“You poor thing.” He held a warm palm to the side of your face, gently stroking your cheek with the rough pad of his thumb. “It’s good you came to me. You know I don’t want you to suffer, right?”

You nodded, wanting to sink into this feeling forever if you could, wanting to drown in the gentle cadence of his voice and the way he tilted his head and looked at you like some pathetic little creature that needed to be saved. And you did need him to save you, to rescue you from the well of blackness that years of pain had kept you in, to fix what was broken inside you—even if you were starting to come undone in the process.

“Let me see what I have that can help.” He turned and reached over to the large black bag that was shoved under his desk, rummaging through it for a few moments. He pulled out a small orange bottle, and tapped two white tablets into his palm. “Give me your hand.”

You extended one arm out and opened your palm; he carefully set the pills in your hand, then gently closed your fingers over them, keeping his hand clasped over your closed fist for a moment.

“These are anti-inflammatories,” he said as he grabbed a canteen from the top of his desk and handed it to you. “They won’t make the pain go away, but they’ll help it to calm down, ideally. If you want to stay here, I can go to the infirmary and find something stronger.”

“That’s okay, I don’t want to be knocked out and just sleep all day. I have to work in”—you glanced at your watch and frowned—“well, not that long from now.”

Without hesitation, you threw the mystery pills in your mouth and washed them down with the room-temperature water, swallowing hard at the acrid taste of the tablets as they started to disintegrate. You made a start to get up and head back to your room and winced, a guttural groan escaping you before you had the chance to stuff it back down.

“Hey, hey, where do you think you’re going?” Law quickly reached out and pulled you back down, large hands settling on your shoulders.

“I—I should go.” Your eyes darted between his steel-grey eyes and his lips. “I should go back to my room now.”

“Not like this you shouldn’t.” He delicately gripped your upper arms, his thumbs massaging you through the thick fabric of your sweatshirt. “You’re too weak to go anywhere right now.”

“I think I’m okay.”

“No, you’re not,” he tutted in that familiar tone, the one that reminded you that he knew better, that he knew what was best for you, more than you ever would. “You don’t need to try to be brave for me, you’re in too much pain to be wandering around by yourself.

“I mean I—I guess you’re right.” You weren’t sure if that was entirely true—you had managed to get here on your own, though just barely—but you were tired, so very tired, and it couldn’t hurt to sit for just a moment longer, could it?

“Just stay here with me, okay?” He smiled softly, still looking at you like you were a wounded animal that required his undivided attention; you felt sick at how you reveled in it, how it made your brain tingle. “At least until the pills start to work. Then you can go back to bed and get some sleep.”

“Okay, if you think that’s best,” you murmured as you settled back down onto the floor.

“Just try to keep it down,” he said as he sat down across from you, his long legs stretched out in front of him. “I’d rather not anyone know you’re here.”

You smiled weakly. “Doctor-patient confidentiality?”

“Something like that.”

You nodded in silent agreement, and leaned your head back against the steel door, trying to keep from staring at him any more than you already had, trying not to let the tingle of his palm on your cheek or the weight of his hands gripping your shoulders linger on your body any longer than necessary. There was something that gnawed at you, a warped little something that whispered to you how fortunate you were to have his help—how wonderful it was to feel cared for, to feel special. Wasn’t it just so lucky that he could treat you and give you the relief you’d sought for so long—even if it came at the expense of your dignity? Wasn’t it worth it to finally feel something other than pain for once, all because of his skilled hands and his relentless dedication to your care and well-being?

“Any idea when these meds are gonna kick in?” you asked through the sleeves of your shirt, sudden searing pain interrupting your anxious thoughts.

“Just hang in there for me. Shouldn’t be much longer now.” He stood up and crossed the small space that separated you, and he settled in beside you. “Think you’ll be okay ‘til then?”

“I don’t know.” You continued to stare straight ahead at the empty space where he’d been sitting just a moment ago, trying to pretend he wasn’t so warm, that his strong body wasn’t pressed into yours, that you didn’t want him to consume you.

“Is there anything I can do to help in the meantime?” His long fingers delicately stroked the top of your hand.

“I—I don’t think so,” you stammered, heat growing in your cheeks and an ache growing in your core. You were certain one of his treatments would, at the very least, take your mind off the pulsating pains in your lower half, his skilled hands coaxing pleasure out of you like it was nothing. But you couldn’t make yourself ask, couldn’t find the words to beg him to defile you here in his room, a place where you didn’t belong.

“If you’re sure,” he hummed. “Doesn’t have to be a treatment session, you know.”

You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye. “What do you mean?”

He smiled, gazing at you with half-lidded eyes. “I’ll show you. Why don’t you go lay down for me? On your stomach, if you can.”

“I think I can, but what are you going to do, captain?”

“It’s ‘doctor,’ remember?” His voice dripped with sweet condescension. “And I’m just going to make you feel a little better while we wait, that’s all. You trust me, don’t you?”

“Of course I do,” you answered, your own voice sounding far away from you.

“That’s my girl,” he smirked as he got to his feet, knowing those damnable words were like a drug to you, and you were eager to chase after your high. He leaned down and grabbed your hands, carefully pulling you to your feet, and held you by the hips as he guided you over to the mattress shoved into the corner on the floor.

“Do I need to, um—”

“Just pull your shirt up a little, you can stay dressed this time.”

This time.

You knelt onto the mattress, random bolts of pain shooting through you as you lowered yourself down onto your stomach, almost certain you could feel your organs twisting with every movement. You shifted cautiously and pulled your sweatshirt up, exposing your back to the cool air of the room, and laid your head on your arms, trying to calm your erratic breaths while you patiently waited for Law. The mattress unexpectedly shifted under you, and Law grunted softly as he positioned himself with one leg on either side of yours, kneeling down and resting some of his weight on your thighs.

“Is this alright?” he asked, placing a wide hand on your hip. “Am I hurting you?”

You shook your head. “No, not at all.”

“Okay, good.” He shifted a little in place. “Now try to relax, take some nice deep breaths for me. Breath in to a count of five, then out to a count of ten.”

You let your eyes drift shut while you timed your respirations, telling yourself over and over again that you could trust Law, that he only had your best interests in mind and wouldn’t bring you any harm. Your muscles tensed as you felt the sudden warmth of his hands on your skin, and he began to apply light pressure with his palms.

“See?” There was a hint of self-satisfaction in his tone. “I told you that you could trust me, didn’t I?”

“I know,” you sighed into your arm. You only want what’s best for me.

“That’s right, I’m only trying to help you. I just want to make you feel better.” He continued to manipulate your anxious body, digging the heels of his hands deep into your flesh. “This won’t fix everything, but it should relieve some of your discomfort. How’s that feeling?”

“S’good,” you mumbled, melting under his expert touch. Pain still wound its way through your abdomen, but it was dampened by his ministrations, each agonizing throb dulled with his every firm touch.

“Helping at all?” Law asked, his knuckles digging into a knot near your ribcage.

“It is, actually. Your hands feel really nice.” You quickly felt your stomach turn, embarrassed by your admittance, your brain too fogged from pain and the unexpected pleasure of his strong hands on your body to keep yourself from blurting out what was running through your mind. His hands—the ones you had fitful dreams about, the ones you brought yourself to climax thinking about—felt perfect molded to your body, as though they’d always belonged on you.

He stopped for a moment, resting his palms on the small of your back. “You think so?”

You couldn’t help yourself, couldn’t stop the words from tumbling out of you if you tried. “Yeah, you’re being so gentle with me, it’s… it’s actually really nice.”

“I told you I’d take good care of you,” he said quietly, a smile hidden in his voice.

Law leaned his weight into the heels of his palms and pressed down, pushing outwards from your spine to your hips over and over, kneading your tender back with precision. You tried to picture how his body must look as he moved over you—how the sleeves of his t-shirt must stretch as his biceps flexed with every movement, how the resilient muscles of his back must ripple under the strained fabric, how his powerful thighs must tense as he leans forward and drags his long fingers across your hips. You drifted and imagined how his body would flex and tense as he hovered over you, positioning his cock at your entrance, holding himself still as he teased you with it, making you beg for him to sink himself inside you. How would the shadows dance over the tensile magnificence of his musculature as he rocked himself against you, trapping you underneath him, claiming you as his?

As you waded out further and further into deep pools of depravity, Law’s elbow dug into a particularly tense spot in your mid-back; you let loose a moan that was far more vulgar than you intended, your brain still fixated on the image of his powerful frame moving in darkness as he took you. The room was quiet, save for the low hum of the submarine and the occasional sound of fabric moving as Law re-positioned himself over you, and your amorous sigh resonated in the small space.

Law exaggeratedly cleared his throat and continued to manipulate your body; his breathing became a little more labored as his hands moved down the outsides of your hips, his movements slowing, growing more measured and deliberate with every caress. He slid one hand across the small of your back, then dragged it leisurely over the clothed curve of your ass, letting it come to rest on the back of your thigh. He paused there, his fingers tapping you lightly, before finally asking, “How low would you like me to go?”

Your eyes opened wide and you inhaled deeply, held the air in your lungs until it started to burn. There was no performative request for permission, no declaration of consent that you had no option but to accept—this was a choice he was handing you with outstretched palms, yours to take and use however you desired. Your impatient longing answered for you: “Lower.”

He slid his fingertips down, slotting them in between where the lushest part of your thighs pressed together. “Here?”

“No,” you whispered through shaky breaths. “Up a little more.”

He slowly, teasingly, slid his hand further up, until the edge of his index finger was slotted against the warmth of your clothed cunt. “Here? Is this where you want me to touch?”

You nodded eagerly, the sensation of his hand pressed into you leaving you aching for gratification.

“That’s not good enough.” He held completely still. “Tell me what you want.”

“Touch me,” you whined into the mattress, your hips starting to move against him of their own accord. “Right there. Please.”

“Such a good girl,” he cooed adoringly as he shifted his weight and made space for you to part your thighs for him. “You even said ‘please’ for me.”

Law’s wide palm nudged against your heat, and you gasped as the tips of two fingers slid down to press against your swollen clit. You heard him chuckle under his breath as he leaned in, one hand propping himself up on the mattress while the other massaged your needy cunt, his face hovering close to yours. “Like this?”

You softly rocked your hips against him, small sighs flowing from your lips like water. “Just like that.”

“Poor thing,” he whispered in your ear as he quickened his motions, fingertips making firm circles over your aching bundle of nerves, your body pulsing and thrumming in response. “You needed this didn’t you? Needed me?”

You whimpered softly in agreement, rutting against his palm in quiet desperation, your body humming with an insatiable need for him.

“Will you say it for me?” Law asked in a low growl, his lips grazing your cheek. “Say you need me?”

“I need you,” you whine into the mattress, his hand pressing into your with more force, your thighs shaking around him, “need you so much.”

“I wanna hear you say it again.” His words vibrated with a hunger you’d never perceived before, an intensity that makes you feverish. It settled in your spine, took hold of your thoughts, whispered in your ear—he needed this, too.

“Oh fuck” —your eyes welled with tears as the tension built inside you, winding around and around until you felt like you could snap—“I need you, I need you.”

He let out a shivering exhale. “That’s my good girl.”

At once, his motions became more urgent, his fingers moving over your pulsing clit with a merciless intensity, your hips bucking and colliding against him with perfect rhythm as a warm sensation started to radiate from your core. He urged you towards your climax, murmuring sweet words of praise through quick and shallow breaths, his relentless resolve to make you spasm on his hand pulling you closer and closer to the edge.

You felt a sudden twinge of something unpleasant in your lower left side, but tried shut it out, focusing your attention on Law’s quick and forceful movements. Without warning, a searing pain ripped through your abdomen, slicing across your hips like a swordsman’s blow, and your thighs clenched around his wrist, your hips twisting as you sucked in a startled breath. You pushed your face into his pillow, trying to silence your pained howl the best you could, tears quickly spilling down your puffy cheeks.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He quickly retracted his hand and placed it on the small of your back, rubbing soft circles over your skin to calm you. “What happened?”

“Hurts,” you strained, holding the sleeve of your sweatshirt between your gritted teeth, an unbearable chill settling in your bones. “Bad pain.”

“Shit, okay.” He moved off of you and knelt next to the bed, scanning you up and down as you trembled and curled up tightly into yourself. “Here, let’s get you warm.”

Law quickly gathered up his blankets and diligently tucked them around you until all that was visible was your face poking out of the cocoon he had constructed. He sat down cross-legged next to the head of the bed and placed his palm on your forehead, applying gentle pressure. “Just try to breathe for me, okay?”

“You don’t have to do this.” You stared at him through cloudy eyes, pulling the blankets tighter around you with every piercing pain that ran through you.

“Of course I do,” he protested. “I have a duty of care for all my patients.”

You smirked at him from your blanket nest. “Are you always this sweet to all your patients, doctor?”

“Not all of them,” he muttered, a rosy flush beginning to settle on his cheeks; his eyes crinkled at the corners, and he tried to hide the subtle upward quirk of his mouth. He gently set his hand on the mattress, palm-up, motioning with his fingers; you reached your hand out from under the blanket and hesitantly placed it in his. He leaned his head back against the wall and held onto you delicately, softly stroking the tops of your fingers with the pad of his thumb.

The low mechanical humming and whirring of the submarine filled the air in the room, as you existed there wordlessly together: doctor and patient, captain and subordinate—and something else. Something else you didn’t understand yet, something you weren’t sure you even wanted to understand. You needed him, that was all that mattered right now—you needed him more than you ever could have imagined, needed his warm hands and his fucked-up ideas of appropriate medical care and his low voice ringing in your ears telling you just how good you were for him. You needed his hand in yours, and needed his warm body next to you, and it vibrated you in the marrow of your bones to think that he could—maybe, possibly—need you too.

You let your eyes start to drift shut, and your temperature began to even out, the warmth from Law’s hand spreading through your body. It had been a long time since you’d felt touch like this, tender and sincere—you wanted to smother yourself with it, even if it came with a heavy price.

“Can I ask you something?” Law’s voice cut through the stillness of the room.

“Sure, yeah, of course.”

“I don’t really know how to say this exactly but, I’ve been wondering”—he paused to scratch at the scruff on his chin, before turning to settle his gaze on you—“you didn’t come here to learn about submarines, did you?”

The blood in your veins quickly turned to ice water, your pulse accelerating instantaneously. “…I’m sorry?”

He stared at you unblinkingly. “I’m just wondering why it is that you’re really here.”

You swallowed hard, the moisture all but evaporated from your mouth. It was abundantly clear that he knew you had lied—Law was not a dupe by any means, and you felt like the world’s greatest fool for thinking you could keep your secret safely held in your grasp forever. You didn’t want to consider how things would proceed from here if you let your lies snowball and tried to maintain your ruse, trapped down here with him, miles away from anyone and anything you’d ever known—but the idea of being transparent and explaining your story to him made you feel ill.

“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.” He half-smiled at you, a hint of disappointment in his tone, and carefully interlaced his fingers with yours. “It won’t affect your treatment plan either way.”

“If I told you I wasn’t entirely honest about why I came here, what would you do?” The air around you started to crush you as you waiting for the inevitable collapse of everything you’d constructed, waited to watch it crumble before you and turn to dust in your hand.

A moment passed as he turned his head away and stared at the ceiling. Then another. Then another. It felt like hours had passed before he finally asked in a hushed tone: “Does anyone else know?”

“No, no one knows.”

“Not even Strawhat?”

“No. Not even Luffy.”

“Fucking hell.” He exhaled a long, loud breath through his nose. “Well, I guess that’s that then.”

“That’s what then?” A sob threatened to escape your trembling lips, and you pondered how quickly you could run towards the door, if you could possibly escape him if you had to.

“Then I guess we’re in this together.” He wrapped both of his hands around yours, squeezing you firmly. “We’ll continue your treatment, and I won’t say a thing to Strawhat. Not unless you decide to first.”

“What?” You started to sit up, tried to wrench yourself from his grasp, but his grip only tightened. “I don’t understand.”

“You had your reasons, I’m sure.” He chewed on his lower lip. “I just wish you’d been honest with me from the start. I’m a doctor, I would have helped you.”

“Look, I’m so, so sorry. I shouldn’t have lied to you, or anyone, and I should’ve just asked you if you thought you could do something for me before I ever came aboard. I just—I just needed—” I needed you, you finished in your head.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” He let go of your hand and sat up, kneeling beside you, settling his large hands on you again, easing you back down to the bed. “You’re getting yourself too wound up. You’re don’t want to make things worse, do you?”

You felt a dull ache in your abdomen, as if on cue. “No, I don’t…”

“Okay. Then just rest for me.”

“Do you suppose I could ask you something now?” You pulled the blanket back over yourself and tried to steady your breathing as Law stroked your side, fingers dancing over your hip.

“Anything you want.”

“Would you have let me aboard if you’d known why I was really here?”

“Of course I would have.” He responded without hesitation, almost cutting you off at the end of your sentence; his gaze settled on your face, and you thought for a moment that you caught the slightest glint of longing in his half-lidded eyes. He cleared his throat and stood up, hooking his thumbs in the pockets of his sweatpants. “You should get some rest.”

“I’m probably fine to go back to my room,” you murmured, extending one leg out from under the pile of sheets. “I’m plenty warm now. Pills seem like they worked.”

“I’d rather keep an eye on you, if you don’t mind.” He crossed the room and sat down at his desk, shuffling some papers around aimlessly. “I have work to do, anyway.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course,” he smirked. “Doctor’s orders.”

----------

You opened your eyes, surrendering to momentary bewilderment—you were somehow in your own bed again, bleary-eyed and cotton-mouthed, wrapped carefully in your covers, but with no memory of ever leaving Law’s room. You slid your hand down to your abdomen—pain no longer threatened to drown you, and you felt only a sporadic dull throb now and again. The mattress felt empty with just you in it—though it was short-lived, you missed the feeling of Law’s weight on you as he pressed his hands into your sore muscles, the way his body shifted and settled, the sound of his breathing filling the room. You half-heartedly wondered if you could have convinced him to climb into that small bed with you—to drop the last pretenses of professionalism that he so desperately seemed to want cling to and wrap his sinewy body around you, holding you until drifted into dreamless sleep.

It was sick.

You were sick, and so was Law—the way he had you conditioned to crave his touch, the way he had trained your body to respond to him in ways you’d experienced with anyone else, the way he had invaded every corner of your mind and replaced your rational thoughts with depraved longing and a deep, insatiable hunger. It was as though he had dug deep into the recesses of your skull and found that little crush you’d had on him, the tiny sprout of affection, and had watered it, fed it, watched it bloom and grow into the feverish obsession that threatened to consume you.

You didn’t have time for this, you forcefully reminded yourself, pushing your depraved thoughts to the back of your mind once again, hoping they would sit quietly in the dark for the time being. You didn’t have look at the clock to know you must have overslept for your shift, and you extracted yourself from the tangle of sheets, looking around the room in a haze for your jumpsuit and boots. In the midst of your panic, you glanced over at your desk and paused, noticing a small pile of items that you were certain weren’t there when you had stumbled out of your room all those hours ago. You ambled towards the desk on unsteady legs, grabbing onto the back of the chair to keep yourself aloft. There, sitting on the corner of your work surface, was the canteen from Law’s room, and orange bottle of pills, and a note:

You’re excused from your work shift today so you can recover (don’t worry, your secret is still safe with me). When you’re feeling better, come to my office—we never finished your treatment.

You sat back down on the bed, the note clutched to your chest, pulse quickening with every breath. The thorny vines of desire had wrapped themselves around you again, tightening with every sinful thought that flitted through your static-filled mind, and you could do nothing but succumb.

#trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law smut #trafalgar waterlaw x reader #trafalgar d law x reader #law x reader #one piece smut #trafalgar d water law x reader #lo writes

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fairystar111 · 1 year ago

Text

Dark New World

By: fairystar111

Rating: Gen

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia

Summary:

The age of heroes is over… the League of Villains had won the war and Japan was now under their rule. Class 1-A is declared missing in battle and a hefty bounty is announced for any information leading to their capture. What horrors will they face if caught by the League?

(A villains win AU featuring found family and forced family.)

CW/Tags: Kidnapping, Stockholm Syndrome, Yandere, Obsessive Behavior, Possessive Behavior, Hostage Situations, Non-consensual Drug Use, Parental Yandere. Also all relationships between minors and adults are platonic! Fucked up but still platonic!

Start/Previous/Next

The age of heroes is over…the league had won the war and Japan was now under their rule. It happened so quickly the war had begun on an ordinary day, no one was expecting the country to be taken under siege so swiftly. Up until that point the League of Villains had seemed like a bunch of amateurs with only two known members. The heroes had been taken painfully by surprise and suddenly half of the hero population was dead and the rest had gone into hiding once All Might was killed. The number one hero had been their last hope to turn the tide of the war but the hero had died protecting his protege from All for One. At least that monster had died with him when All Might used his last of his power to pummel him into the ground, turning his body into nothing more than a pile of sludge. With All Might gone chaos spread through the streets, people were panicking and didn't know who to turn to or who to trust.

Government officials were being murdered on live television and no one was doing anything to stop it. A video of Hawks killing the president of the Hero Public Safety Commission was released shortly after he exposed the abuse he and many others had undergone in their care. With the HPSC gone, the heroes had no one to turn to to organize a large-scale attack on the league. Many died without the support while others took it as a sign to flee the country or go into hiding.

Former heroes were being exposed for heinous crimes that were swept under the rug by the HPSC. The most shocking being Dabi or Todoroki Touya exposing Endeavour’s abuse to the public before slaughtering him with the former winged hero Hawks. The rest of Japan's government had forty-eight hours to report that they surrender and pledge allegiance to the leadership of the League of Villains or they would be slaughtered and their corpses used as a warning for those who commit treason.

As much as the remaining heroes tried they could not defeat Shigaraki and his army of villains. With All for One dead and Shigaraki inheriting his power, he and his league quickly overwhelmed them. Midoriya was only barely starting to understand how to use his power and was not strong enough to stop Shigaraki despite him thinking it is his mission to do so.

When Midoriya almost died trying to fight off a muscled quirk villain from Shigaraki’s army, Shouta and Hizashi had to make the hard decision to stop fighting and bring the class into hiding. Fully trained pro heroes were dying everyday and his inexperienced students were going to be killed if they continued to fight.

There was an old UA fortress hidden in the mountains Nezu had told him about, it was only to be used in dire situations so Aizawa had never actually been there before. But he knows the location where it is hidden and that it was an old stronghold from the dawn of quirks that had been modified for extreme post apocalyptic type disasters. The base should be strong and hidden securely enough to protect his students. With the help from Soaring, a hero that was visiting Japan when it fell, Shouta and Hizashi were able to get the kids there safely. They arrived with nothing but the clothes on their backs but they were safe at least for now.

Something that struck Shouta as odd had been the difference in treatment they had gotten in the war compared to other heroes. While their classmates and fellow teachers were being slaughtered mercilessly, Shouta and his class were only mildly injured aside from Midoriya. In fact he could have sworn during the fighting he heard someone mutter “Remember not to hurt ‘em too the big boss wants ‘em alive.”. While he is worried about what the villains meant by that. He can’t help but be grateful for it because it gave him more time to protect his kids and make a plan to escape. Now he can only worry about what is in store for them if they are caught. He knows the League had it out for his class, he can only hope they were not being spared only to be captured and tortured by them later.

===

For the last couple of months the League has been working meticulously to build a society they think would be fair to everyone and set up official laws and appoint figureheads to step in place of them in the public and run the country exactly how they want to. They have officials who handle the public but have no real power to change things. They follow their orders and the minute one steps out of line they are slaughtered and displayed for everyone to see. The League usually only makes public appearances when squashing rebellions or publicly punishing those who disobey their rule. They may not be the faces of the country but everyone knows who is truly really running everything behind the scenes.

It has been months since they've taken over Japan and there have been no sightings of their targets. They would find them soon enough, no matter where they run or where they hide they will never be free. The League will always chase them to the ends of the earth. They take what is theirs and those children belong to them.

“It's been ages since there have been any sightings of class 1-A. How far along are we on locating them?” Shigaraki growled out, frustrated beyond words. He hasn’t had a chance to see Izuku since the initial decoy attack on the USJ. Last he heard his baby brother almost died fighting a rogue villain named Muscular and he wasn’t there to save him. Said villain was then brutalized and tortured by Tomura on live television to show what happens to rouges. He needs to find Izuku soon. Clearly his little brother has no survival instinct in him at all and needs his big brother there to protect him.

“They were last spotted boarding a plane escorted by the flying hero Soaring exactly three months ago, current location unknown.” Hawks replied, angsty to get his hand on his baby bird again. He doesn't know how the poor chick is surviving without him there to watch over him.

“Have any of our soldiers been able to locate and interrogate the hero?” Tomura huffed, miffed that they were able to hide so well considering the five million yen bounty they put on each of them. Surely some civilians will be selfish enough to report them for the reward, right?

“Soaring fled Japan shortly after helping the targets escape and is currently missing. We have had several plans to locate him but none have succeeded at this time.” Mister Compress replied gently, trying not to upset Tomura more than he already was.

“This is all taking too long; they could be anywhere in the world at this point. We’ll be lucky if they decide to hide in Japan at all.” Shigaraki rasped out, roughly digging his nails into the soft skin of his neck. The idea of his little brother hiding out in a foreign country made his skin crawl.

“Hey look on the brightside, they’re not dead so that means we'll always have time to catch them later. They can’t run forever. Eventually they'll slip up and we’ll be there to take back what is ours! ” Toga said, smiling brightly. She really wants to see Ochaco again. She had met the girl in the beginning stages of the war. Ochaco had saved her from her fellow heroes and Toga has been infatuated ever since.

“Yeah! We’ll never stop looking for them. No matter how far they try to run or where they hide we’ll always find them. Who are you guys looking to take anyways?” Hawks asked, realizing after all this time they never actually talked about which kids they wanted. They had been so busy setting up an entirely new government they hadn’t had much time to really talk about it. He just knew they were all part of the same class his baby bird was in.

“Izuku is obviously coming with me.” Shigarki said sternly. No one is getting their hands on his little brother but him. Father had left Izuku in his care and Tomura promised he would take care of Izu whether the boy liked it or not. The kid was way too reckless and seriously needed to be reined in by his big brother.

“I'm taking Shouto.” Dabi replied easily. Endeavor did a lot of damage to his family, to Shouto in particular, but Dabi was sure he could turn his stoic brother back into the adorable baby brother he had left all those years ago. He’ll probably fight a bit at first but he’ll realize soon how much better things are here. He can be a good pseudo-father figure for his little brother and help him regain some of the childhood he lost.

“I don’t want to adopt kidnap any children personally. But I'm always happy to babysit for those of you who will.” Said Magne, the big sister of the group. She loves children but she is just not ready to have one of her own. And of course breaking the little heroes in, is not something her heart can handle. She hates seeing children in pain and she knows that the first few months will be a very harsh adjustment on the baby heroes.

“I already have Himiko but it would be nice to have an innocent child at home that has no blood on their hands. I hate kids! Who would you like, koko? You’re not getting any siblings! ” asked Twice. While he does already have a daughter of his own and he loves her the way she is. Having a sweet non villainous child at home waiting for them while they're out does sound appealing to him.

“I wanted Izu-chan and Ochaco,” Himiko pouted. She wanted Izuku to be her little brother, not Shiggy’s. She had seen the boy fighting savagely in the beginning of the war and liked him and he’s one of Ochaco’s best friends so that made him even better.

“No! My little brother is coming with me!” Shigaraki screeched from across the large meeting table.

“Okay well then Ochaco is better than Izu-kun anyways!” Toga said, sticking her tongue out at Shigaraki. Ochaco would make an adorable baby sister with a little bit of work from her and her dad.

“I personally want Asui. No one knows mutant quirks better than a mutant themselves. I would take the best care of that little girl.” Spinner explained. He originally had wanted nothing to do with the kids but when he found out that there was another animal mutation like himself he started to think it wouldn't be so bad. He also saw that there was a student with a bird mutation but he did not want to get killed by Hawks for trying to take his fledgling. He had never had any siblings or planned to have a child of his own; everyone in his life has always rejected him because of his quirk. So Asui would be his child to love and raise.

“Well I for one do not need anymore children. My little magician is all I need. He’s made quite a bit of progress recently and he will be very happy to know he will be receiving new playmates soon.” Mr.Compress purred. He had gotten his little boy months ago and while he is still a little argumentative at times he is sure that is just part of his personality. He has already made quite the breakthrough with the boy, getting him to call him papa and rely solely on him for all his needs. The others will be so jealous when they meet him, they had only seen what the boy was like months ago when he had been originally captured.

“No need to brag.” Hawks drawled coldly. He is honestly really jealous that Atsuhiro was able to get his kid so early into the game when he is still struggling to find his fledgling.

“Anyway I’m taking Fumikage but you all probably already know that.” Hawks said lazily. He had met his baby bird while he was doing his internship and found it hard to let him go. His instincts had reacted so violently when the boy had told him he was leaving, though he knew the internship was only temporary, the thought of his baby bird leaving him had made him feel so angry and empty. Hawks wanted to keep Tokoyami for himself more than anything. Fumikage had been the reason he had turned full villain. Since there was no easy way to take the boy from his family legally, he figured when the league eventually took over Japan he could finally get Fumikage all to himself.

“And I will be taking Eraserhead and Present Mic. And no I will not be answering why.” Kurogiri said. Shirakumo is looking to complete his collection of friends. At least the ones that are still alive, poor Nemuri will have to undergo the same process he did when he died.

Just as Shigaraki was about to reply to Kurogiri, the doors to the conference room burst open and military personnel filed into the room.

“WHAT!” Shigaraki snarled, watching the general shrink back in fear.

“Sir we've just received info that there have been reported sightings of a large group of children and two adults living on Mount Yama. The descriptions of the children and adults match the 1-A students and teachers.” The man said.

“Send in a group of stealth operatives to get their exact location while we close in on them. Gather the troops and station them all around the perimeter of the mountain, and be ready to storm the mountain in case they want to put up a fight.” Shigaraki barked with a smirk. Their kids are coming home soon whether they like it or not.

===

It had been three months since they arrived at the camp and while it was hard at first they were mostly happy. Yes there are days where they were terrified about what would happen if they were ever caught but the kids were just happy to be alive together and have a home with their teachers. Because despite everything they went through their teachers love them all and would protect them until their last dying breath.

There had only been enough viable rations for the first month because of this they had to learn how to grow and hunt their food quickly. It was very difficult for many of the kids, most of them didn’t even know how to cook yet let alone hunt to survive. They taught them how to cure and dry meat, how to fish and hunt for animals, how to plant a garden and how to preserve food to last for months. Their teachers were very patient with them teaching them all the skills needed to thrive in the wilderness.

They have been trying to get into communication with other surviving heroes to get them to come to their base but have had no luck. The few who had answered had been terrified of even being associated with them. Apparently the league had put out an announcement that anyone that was caught helping them would be charged with aiding and abetting criminals and sentenced to execution. But those with any information on them leading to their capture would be rewarded generously. While it was hard being treated as criminals they couldn’t blame people for not wanting to die. And while most didn’t help them in any way, they were kind enough to not immediately report them to the league for a reward.

One day while out foraging for food the class could swear they felt unfamiliar eyes on them but Jirou confirmed that there was nothing out of the ordinary that she could detect nearby so they went deeper into the forest. They were out hunting for pigs to make for dinner, the wild pigs are the best source of protein on the mountain but you have to travel deep in the forest to catch them. The deeper they went the more they could sense that someone was trailing them, it felt like they were prey being hunted by a dangerous predator. Aizawa would sometimes test them by stalking them in the forest and seeing if they could sense him but… these eyes did not feel like the teacher they loved, they felt malicious. They decided to head back to camp early and alert their teachers that there was something in the forest making them uneasy and unable to focus on their hunt. When they finally arrived at their base they ran as quickly as they could to find their teachers.

“Mr. Aizawa! Mr. Aizawa! Mr. Aizawa!” The students yelled frantically, finally finding their teacher.

“What's wrong?” Shouta asked, alarmed by the frazzled state of his kids. Most of them had tears in their eyes and were trembling, holding tight onto one another. As soon as he asked, all his kids started trying to explain what happened all at once.

“Shh, one at a time please. Iida explain what happened to get you all so upset.” Aizawa asked calmly, wanting to know why the students were back from their hunt so early and why they were in such a state.

“Sir there seemed to be someone following us on our hunt today. At first we thought it might have been you but something about the presence following us didn’t feel quite right. It felt like someone was spying on us. We're worried that someone may have leaked the location of the safe house.” Iida explained voice cracking and shoulders trembling.

“Okay calm down your teachers will figure this out. Hizashi, it's go time someone found us. They might possibly already be on the way to our location with reinforcements. I need you to come here as soon as possible and help me get the kids ready to run. What is your eta?” Shouta said urgently into the walkie talkie. Actual phones are too easy to track so they have been mostly using radio to communicate.

“I'm coming Shouta, I can be there within five minutes. Please start getting them ready without me. I'll be there as soon as I can.” Hizashi responded, worried voice coming out distorted through the small speaker of the walkie talkie.

“Affirmative, alert me as soon as you arrive.” The teacher said, quickly signing off.

“Alright I need you all to be calm and pack a bag with a couple of days worth of food in it each and dress as warmly as you can. We need to be ready by the time Hizashi arrives. Then we'll need to run as fast as we can alright.” Aizawa ordered.

“But where will we go, sensei?” Shouta heard a teary little voice ask.

“I don’t know yet but your teachers will figure it out. Don’t worry we'll be fine. I need you all to be brave right now. Can you do that for me?” Aizawa said, heart breaking at the sight of the frightened uncertain eyes of his students all being directed at him.

“Yes Sensei.” Twenty wary voices answered back.

“Good, now go pack your bags. We need to be as quick as possible.” Shouta ordered.

The students hurried to pack while the teachers wondered where they were going to go. With the temperatures dropping they weren't going to be able to camp just anywhere unless they wanted to risk hypothermia. They needed to find a secure shelter but they didn't know if there were any left that were not out in the open or in public use. They decided that they would just have to move into any abandoned building they see and keep moving so they do not get caught. It was going to be difficult hiding with such a large group but their priority for now was getting off the mountain without getting captured. The trip down the mountain would last at least three days on foot if they were lucky. It was a risky move but they needed to leave now. The teachers quickly backed their bags of food, once they were done they went to meet with the students who had gathered by the entrance to announce their plan of action. But before they could get to explaining they heard a banging noise getting louder and louder towards the door. They quickly dropped into a battle stance as the doors to the facility were blown off their hinges.

“Well well well look who it is. You heroes have been quite difficult to track down, you know. ” Shigaraki purred, smirking with the rest of the villains around them.

“What are you doing here? They're only children, you have no business with them! ” Eraserhead yelled, ready to defend his kids or die trying.

“Hey, no need to be so aggressive, we don’t have to fight as long as you give us what we want.” Hawks said with a lazy smirk eyeing Tokoyami. He looked ready to snatch the little bird up and fly him back to his nest.

“What do you people want?” Aizawa asked, trying to think of a way to get all of his kids out of here safely.

“The answer is simple really. We want you ,” Shigarki answered with a devilish smirk as Kurogiri opened portals underneath several students depositing them in front of different league members.

“Now no one needs to get hurt as long as the ones we call surrender to us willingly.” Shigaraki said, holding four fingers to Iida’s throat.

“Izuku Midoriya, come here or your friend dies.” Shigaraki said knowing the boy would always put others before himself. The boy in question walked forward on shaky legs with a determined look on his face. ‘Aw look how determined he looks, that won't last long’ Shigaraki thought as he snapped on the quirk canceling collar around Izukus neck. He can’t have his little brother hurting himself with a quirk he was never supposed to have. Oh well he can deal with that permanently when they get back to their base. He pressed a button and the collar sedated Izuku making him fall limp in his arms. He waved his hand to his teammates to quickly get this over with. He needs to go home soon to put Izuku down for a nap.

“What did you do to him?” The boys' teachers yelled, both charging at the villain but they were quickly handled by Kurogiri, collaring them and portalling them away. The rest of the students looked significantly less brave now that their protectors were gone, most dropping their battle stances and trembling, staring at the villains.

“Shouto come to Touya.” Dabi cooed with a soft smile, arms wide open. Todoroki hesitated, clearly this man is a villain that viciously attacked his school and fellow heroes but he's also Touya-nii and Touya would never hurt him.

“Come now Shouto don’t make me hurt one of your little friends here.” Dabi growled. That made the boy come running into his arms.

“Good boy Shou.” Dabi purred as he collared the boy and placed him on his hip. He didn’t think he needed to sedate Shouto; he's always been a good boy for his big brother. He gently rocked him, shushing him when he began to squirm as the others finished up.

“Ochako come over here! You get to come home with me and dad!” Toga said happily, holding up her fathers hand. The poor girl they chose looked as if she was going to vomit over the idea of coming home with them. While that made Himiko a bit sad, she knew her baby sister wasn't going to like living with them at first. But it's okay she and her dad just have to train Ochako a little bit first then she’ll love them just as much as they love her. Twice quickly snapped the collar around the girl's neck and put her to sleep before the poor thing made herself sick. She couldn't afford to lose any more calories, she had already lost the adorable chubby pink cheeks she had in her photos. The poor girl barely weighed anything in his arms, the months in hiding must have been hard on his little girl.

“Fumikage come here or else.” Hawks said, holding one of his hardened feathers to Shougi’s neck. The boy solemnly marched forward, he could not risk his best friend's life over his own freedom. Fumikage cried when he was collared and could no longer feel Dark Shadow. It hurt Hawks to see his nestling crying out for his quirk as the sedative started to work but Dark Shadow was simply too powerful to be allowed to roam free. Once Fumikage was a bit more settled into his new life then they could try but that won't be for a long time.

“Um Asui Tsu can you come here please?'' Spinner asked and that was all the girl needed to march forward, while she didnt know why she was picked she could never risk her classmates' lives for her freedom. Surprisingly she did not receive a collar around her neck but she did get a bracelet that put her to sleep. She went limp in Spinner's arms wondering if she was ever going to see her family again.

“Are you guys done yet?” Shigaraki whined, tired of waiting and ready to go home. He signaled Kurogiri to open a portal back home when he received a round of eager 'Yes!’s from the rest of the league.

“Gather and restrain the rest of them and bring them to location B. Place them in prison A and do not harm them or touch them unless ordered too.” Shigaraki barked at the troops he had brought along. The rest of the class would make great incentives to behave or rewards for good behavior.

“Alright guys, Let's go home.” Shigaraki said, smiling softly as he and the league walked into the portal with their prized possessions.

Start/Previous/Next

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bosenmoriyoru · 1 month ago

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Han Yahseo's Backstory

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

Cw: Abusive themes, gore, cannibalism

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

Kurosenmori Yoru was born into an ordinary family in Japan, but her birth was far from ordinary. Her skin was a deep, unsettling red, and she had white hair streaked with black strands, which caused an uproar in her village and earned her the nickname "Akuma no Ko" (Devil's Child). As she grew older, her skin returned to a normal tone, but the crimson hue beneath her eyes remained, resembling natural eyeliner. Her striking beauty only intensified with age, making her the most gorgeous girl in her village. However, this beauty quickly became a curse due to the unwanted attention it drew.

Her father was extremely abusive, while her mother was distant and neglectful. Yoru had a younger brother named Yuta, who tragically drowned in a lake after being dragged into the water while playing in the rain. Her parents blamed her for his death, accusing her of failing as an older sister, which deepened the rift between them. One day, her mother took Yoru to a festival, giving her a fleeting hope that her mother might finally care for her. However, this hope was shattered when her mother dragged her to a train station with the grim intent to end their lives. Yoru, sensing her mother’s intentions, desperately tried to pull her back, but her mother succeeded in her tragic plan. Yoru was left in shock, her mother’s blood splattered on her face as she watched the horrific scene unfold. From that day forward, Yoru became numb to pain and emotion.

As years passed, her father’s abuse grew more violent. He became a womanizer, further destroying what little was left of their family. One evening, after enduring another round of torment, Yoru found herself staring blankly at a thriller movie on TV, disconnected from reality. Her gaze fell on an axe her father used to threaten her. Almost in a trance, she grabbed the axe and went to her father’s room, ending his life along with that of the woman he had brought home. In her starving state, she unconsciously consumed their guts.

A few days later, neighbors, alarmed by the eerie silence from the house, called the police. When they arrived, they found Yoru in a corner of the room, gaunt and expressionless, and immediately took her to the hospital. Soon after, she was placed in an asylum.

At the asylum, a secretive organization known as "The Revenant Project" took interest in her. Operated by a coalition of rogue military personnel and unethical scientists, the project aimed to create human weapons through extreme psychological and physical conditioning. They abducted Yoru and transported her to a hidden facility in North Korea. There, she was subjected to inhumane experiments and rigorous martial arts training to turn her into a weapon.

Her combat skills were sharpened through an array of martial arts disciplines. She mastered Krav Maga for its ruthless efficiency in neutralizing opponents and weapon disarmament. Muay Thai honed her powerful strikes using fists, elbows, knees, and shins, while Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu developed her grappling and submission techniques to dominate opponents. Her Taekwondo training emphasized agility and high-speed kicks, and Silat taught her to exploit surroundings and adapt seamlessly in combat. Boxing enhanced her precision and stamina through rapid punches and head movements, while Sambo refined her takedowns and ground control. To diversify her arsenal, she became proficient in Kenjutsu, wielding blades with deadly precision, and Capoeira, blending rhythm and deceptive movements for surprise attacks. Finally, Wing Chun provided her with close-range combat expertise, allowing her to strike and block with unparalleled efficiency. These martial arts, coupled with brutal live combat drills, weapon mastery, and extreme agility training, molded her into a lethal weapon capable of confronting any adversary.

Years passed, and Yoru, now a shell of her former self, was kept in a white room, chained and constantly monitored. That was when a familiar face appeared—Taro Okabe, one of the officers who had once responded to her father’s death. Taro had infiltrated The Revenant Project and orchestrated her rescue.

After freeing her, Taro placed an advanced collar around her neck to monitor her adrenaline and heartbeat. The collar emitted high-voltage electric shocks when her adrenaline reached 100%, rendering her unconscious if she lost control. Understanding her pain and trauma, Taro brought her to South Korea and renamed her Han Yahseo to help her start anew. He treated her as a stepfather, providing a safe environment and enrolling her in J High School.

Though Yahseo wore the collar to control her immense power, she saw it as a reminder of her fear and the weapon she had been turned into. For the first time, she grappled with the idea of redemption, wondering if she could truly heal from her past—or if her power would forever define her.

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

#oc #lookism oc #lookism #y/n #cw: gore

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goodomensafterdark · 9 months ago

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Writers Guild Presents - Why Does the Ortolan Sing? Chapters 2 - 6

Written by OneDapperCat on our subreddit!

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Following his mother’s death, Azira sets out to prepare his family’s bookshop for reopening. While appreciating the shop’s new sign, he hears the beckon of a siren’s song sounding from the coffee shop over the road. He succumbs to temptation to find the source of the hypnotic voice is an auburn-haired songbird. Intrigued by the singer’s beauty and haunted by his apparent loneliness, Azira is determined to introduce himself. There’s only one problem: the musician’s menacing, jealous, and possessive partner.

CW: Domestic abuse, loss of a loved one, adultery, toxic relationship, murder, blood, organized crime

Content warning for these chapters: implied domestic abuse, loss of a loved one

Excerpt from chapter two:

Heaven help us… Be my compass…

Those nearly yellow eyes glanced up once more, and Azira couldn’t help feeling like they were locked specifically on his own. He dropped his hands into his lap, his lips slightly parting, drawn into Crowley’s eyes, like a snake being charmed, as the corner of the crooner’s mouth slightly twitched.

Out of darkness… cause I’m a fallen angel… finding my way back home…

Once again, meeting the songbird’s golden gaze made Azira feel as though the world around them faded out of existence, leaving only the singer on his stool and Azira in his chair. The words of his song were passing between them, like whispers between lovers. He could imagine those perfect lips brushing against his ear, his hushed aria meant only for Azira. There was something else beyond the suffocating sensuality of his voice — something extremely familiar.

I’m just an angel that’s fatally lost… I tried to be something I know that I’m not…

Sadness. Azira felt overwhelming sadness bearing down on him, as though the burden the songbird carried on his own shoulders was being passed over to him. It felt like a desperate cry for help that the bookseller desired nothing more than to answer. He wasn’t just looking upon a singing songbird, but a caged one. Yet why would a caged bird sing so beautifully? Another thing about the mysterious man that he needed to know.

I danced with the devil and I’m so ashamed… Too far down the road to go back where I came…

Continue from chapter two on ao3…

Or start with chapter one.

#good omens after dark #goad #good omens #good omens fanfic #writers of after dark #writers guild presents #good omens fanart #artists of after dark #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable spouses #aziracrow #azicrow #crowazi

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contentloadingandstuff · 2 years ago

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Heyaaa, I have an ask to ask, how about the region leaders (Jean, Ningguang and Raiden) with an S/O who has an extremely dangerous skill (Like Blackbolt or even Shigaraki) but is someone extremely sweet and caring. But seeing himself cornered and forced to release his maximum strength, but he is brooding afterwards for having injured his enemies

A unique encounter - Jean, Ningguang & Ei x Bioweapon!Reader

A/N: Hello anon. Since you have an ask to ask, I have an answer to answer! This is probably the strangest fic I've written so far. Enjoy nonetheless!

CW: Male!Reader, Uroboros-like parasite, a little body horror? Idk.

You were abducted by the Fatui at an age too early to remember your parents, or anything about your past really. For years your home was a claustrophobic cell, and the only companions were the researchers. They constantly visited you, drugged you into sleep and carried you off to who knows where. Every time you would wake up with your arms sore and no shred of memory of what happened.

You didn't feel the effects of whatever they put into you until a few years later, in your early teens. You started feeling movement inside your body, wrapping around your organs and constantly pulsing. The parasite moving inside you caused enormous pain, an anguish both mental and physical. It was agony for the first months, but it would soon become more bearable when the being matured

It turned out that it tapped into your central nervous system, letting you control it. Over a few years you taught yourself how to control the black tentacles, and overall live in some kind of symbiosis with the thing. You practiced drawing the ropes of writhing flesh from your left arm, rendering it mostly useless in the process - the appendages were small and stretchy, yes, but they needed space to move nonetheless.

When you felt ready, you used the infection to break out of captivity. The thing turned out to be a great tool of destruction. With a flick of your wrist you could crush skulls, snap spines like twigs and rip open heavy iron doors. Fighting with the parasite was painful to say the least - the tendrils ripped and stretched your entire arm, leaving you moaning in agony even days afterwards.

Despite the years of abuse and captivity you felt no satisfaction in taking revenge. You experienced the kind of pain and fear you wouldn't wish for anyone, even them. You kept the killing fast and as painless for them as possible. You couldn't have witnesses who would order a search for you. Still, the realization of how many families you broke apart was heavy on your heart. And so, after reaching freedom, you grew a deep disdain towards violence.

Before you left the icy wastes of Snezhnaya, you made sure to go through and steal all the documents contained in the lab. They provided crucial insight to your affliction. It turned out the disease wasn't infectious, and, if the parasite's lifespan came to an end, it could never be recreated. You've destroyed the remaining samples and burned down the laboratory, leaving South in search of a new life.

Many people made requests to Jean daily. The acting grandmaster often found herself overwhelmed with commissions. Not many of her coworkers, even those who cared for her wellbeing like Lisa or Kaeya, helped her out with work. Let alone the citizens of Mondstadt, who treated Jean more like a machine than a human with a need for free time and relaxation.

That was before a certain individual popped into her life. She heard about him before, and saw him plenty of times out on the streets, just going about his business. Whenever she passed by, he asked if he could be of assistance. It was annoying to her at first, or so she told herself. She was the acting grandmaster, for crying out loud. It should be her duty to do all the work, right? But when she actually relented and gave him some menial tasks to do, Jean found herself enjoying this immensely. It was great to have someone helping, someone caring, someone reliable and trustworthy.

As much as he was caring, gentle and oh so lovable, there was something strange about him. A simple thing really. You always wore long-sleeved clothes and never used your left arm much. It wasn't that weird until she sneaked a glance of her crush without his top. The left arm was all wrapped in bandages and secured with belts, especially around the wrist. Just an injury, she thought. That is, until she started paying closer attention to you. The bindings were always on, and you never loosened the tightening leather as well. Being an honest person, she confronted you about it.

You tried to excuse yourself or lie your way out every time she asked, but Jean was far from oblivious. She knew an obvious lie when she saw one. So you showed her.

A mess of black tentacles, coupled with your pained moans, coming out of your wrist was not something she expected in the slightest. Keeping the thing drawn, you explained everything you knew about it, along with how you've come to be afflicted with it.

You expected disgust from her. Loathing, resentment, or even exile. But what you found was… empathy. Since it wasn't dangerous to anyone you came into contact with, it was fine in Jean's books. And you couldn't live without it as well (she had Albedo run tests and confirm it later). It was just a part of you, as unconventional as it was. She accepted it just as she accepted the rest of you.

She knew how much her S/O hated fighting. Whenever they were outside with her, she would always keep an eye on possible threats. It was her who did the fighting, despite your superior power. Yet she couldn't predict what happened one day. An ambush from a large group of Hilichurls and Abyss Mages proved too hard for her to handle alone. So, very regrettably, she had to ask you for help. Pushed up against the wall, facing the risk of getting Jean injured, you moved to attack. You fought together, and managed to beat back the assault.

When you saw the corpses, the blood and just the overall massacre you caused, you couldn't beat back the guilt. Hilichurls, though less intelligent than humans, we're still living beings. They felt pain just as any creature. You kept brooding over the events for just a minute - until you saw how Jean was handling it.

And she was far worse off than you. A slurry of apologies and self-loathing flew your way.

"I'm so, so sorry Y/N… I-I was too weak to handle this… I… failed you… Please forgive me…"

Despite your best efforts, it soon escalated into a breakdown as all the stress she amassed over the month washed over her. You assured her it's okay, that it's not her fault, that you can take it. She slowly calmed down. She doubled her protection effort in the following days, so much so it turned into near babying you. She stopped after a good, solid dose of reassurance that you will be fine.

Archons, this woman needs a break.

You were certainly an interesting case for Lady Ningguang. You came to Liyue Harbor one day, and it looked like just about everybody liked you. Especially the kids. It was was when she went to visit her little informants that she met you. Despite your serious appearance, you played with them without a care in the world. After she delivered the usual sweets, she struck up a conversation. Ningguang soon found that you were simply a fun person to talk to and generally be around. After a few dozen encounters she grew fond of you. Very fond, in fact.

When you started living together, she noticed something peculiar about you. You were eating a lot. She found you eating heavy, protein rich foods like meats, be they fresh or dried, almost all the time. Despite this unusual and clearly dangerous diet you never seemed to gain weight. Actually, you remained more or less underweight. Caring about your safety, she suggested that you see a doctor. You remained unwilling, regardless of how much she bothered you. She could only sigh. It was ultimately your call.

It wasn't weird for her that you didn't like fighting in general - neither with weapons nor with words. She didn't mind standing up for you and doing the talking whenever the situation demanded it. It gave her the familiar, delightful sense of power. Your pacifism didn't bother her, at all in fact. It was refreshing to be around someone not willing to climb up bodies to reach their goal. It raised some concerns for your safety, as your unassuming posture added doubts about your potential combat prowess.

Her suspicions were completely blown away one day. Being such a high profile individual as Ningguang brought about plenty of interest, usually not in a positive sense. It wasn't a surprise to her that there were people, especially Fatui, who wanted her dead. It was only a matter of time and they would send agents to strike at either you, or herself. That day just had to come while she was on a date with you. The three agents got the jump on you, and managed to wound Ningguang in the shoulder. You were her only defense, and as much as she believed in you, a part of her knew it would be the end. But then… something ripped open her lovely S/O's wrist and a swarm of pitch black tentacles came out.

Both her and the Fatui screamed in terror at this sight. Using their momentary shock, you defeated them with a few swipes of your weapon. Ningguang didn't know that a human's spine could be snapped so effortlessly. Before long, you were next to her, asking if she's okay. Your girlfriend felt… a lot of things at that moment. Confusion, fear, disgust, worry… She just remained speechless for a solid minute. Being ever the reasonable woman, however, she got herself together and led you to Bubu Pharmacy to get your injuries patched.

There was no time to think over what exactly you had done just minutes prior, as you were bombarded with questions. What exactly was that thing? Is it a parasite? Is it infectious? Is it dangerous? Does it hurt? And where, by the holy Celestia's name, do you keep that thing? You took your time to explain exactly what she's dealing with, along with presenting the stolen data and your life story. This calmed her a little, but she still needed time to get comfortable with the fact. She tolerated that of course, well, as long as it didn't touch her. Some absolutely horrifying silly tentacle thingy is not going to bring down the wonderful person her S/O is in her eyes. But don't think you'll get a pass on the teasing just because you're her lover. Oh, not at all, in fact. You'll get to hear a lot, and I mean a lot of one specific question.

"Don't you have any more… unusual… surprises for me in store, my love?"

If there was a better place than Inazuma for escaping from one's past, you would certainly have gone there. You expected everything from that strange land, yet it still managed to surprise you. Surprise you by having Inazuma's Archon pay special attention to you.

Ei spotted you one sunny day while strolling on the main street of the capital. You weren't doing anything specific, just buying groceries. You weren't unusual by any means - just a typical guy, more attractive than the average male for sure though, doing daily things. Yet Ei's gut feeling and a few thousand years' worth of experience told her something was deeply off about you. The vessel was designed to differentiate the seven elements, as well as things living and dead. She noticed your aura was glowing much brighter, just as if there was something else, something very much alive inside you. This piqued her interest, and she decided to investigate.

Of course, Ei decided to do her detective work her way. Which involved sending out Kujou Sara in the flesh to snatch you right from the streets and lead you before the throne. You were, of course, beyond mortified. Barely two months in the country and you already attracted the Archon's attention? This surely spelt death for you, you thought. When she commanded you to show her the very-generally-put "additional life inside you", you had no choice but to reveal the parasite.

Sara nearly puked at this horrible sight, and the guards were all ready to cut you into little cubes. Ei, much to everyone's surprise, thought something entirely different.

"Oh! Hmm, borrowing Miko's words I would say it looks quite… interesting."

The reaction to her words could be described with a single, simple what. Ei got up from her throne, and started circling around you. The way those tendrils wiggled and swayed was quite mesmerizing, and she couldn't keep her eyes away from you. Being stared at by someone of her magnitude, you endured the pain in fear of angering her, and remained still like a statue. Still, until the pain of your muscles tearing and stretching overpowered your will, of course. You fell unconscious in a pool of your own blood and antiseptic slime, right before her eyes.

You woke up patched up inside a luxurious bed. Ei had you taken care of by a doctor. Despite your inner pleas, you were too weakened to leave the bed for long, so your visit at the Tenshakuku stretched on. All the while Ei has been visiting you many times a day, constantly asking you various questions about the affliction. With no other option than to surrender to her will, you answered all her queries. She found it simply amazing how, with such a frail mortal body, you managed to live with this inside you at all times. Many times you had to show her the tentacle. After Ei heard from you that living like this was nowhere near pleasant, her first instinct was to take the thing out. When she summoned her polearm you had to hastily explain that you actually couldn't live without the parasite. It's body made up for plenty of your missing, very vital bits. She deflated, and decided to stop asking you to draw it. You shouldn't feel pain just to satisfy her childish curiosity, she thought.

Yet after a day of not talking to you, she found herself bored. Bored and frustrated with most things, and wondering about what you were up to. Regardless of her will, Ei returned to you over, and over again. She started spending lots of time with you. She dragged you out for walks, had tea parties with you, and even used the royal hot springs with you (it was weird at first, as Ei had no clue about her behavior being quite unfitting of an empress, but you got used to her quirkiness eventually). You had to turn down plenty of sparring offers and her requests to show how the tentacle is used in fighting. She stopped shortly after finding out you weren't very keen on violence in any of the many forms it could take. She respected that greatly. To make up for all the trouble she caused you (Ei understood that only a few months after you started dating, and more or less a year after you've met for the first time), the Shogun swore to protect you wherever you went. It was logical for her - being the strongest one brings about an obligation to protect others.

But even she couldn't be everywhere at once. The Traveler was passing by, and Ei soon fell into a rabbit hole of their problems. She wanted to help them as a means of saying 'thank you', but leaving you alone like that made her quite uneasy. She impatiently waited for an opportunity to excuse herself, but it never came. Only when you called for her, through an enchanted ring she gave you, did she leave. The distance was too long to reach you in time, and Ei arrived at a bloodbath. Over a dozen ronin, probably seeking an 'easy gain', tried to kidnap you. They expected a frail nobleman, not a biological weapon.

Ei found you on the ground, writhing in pain and discomfort. She scooped you up, and carried you bridal style back to the palace's medical ward. As the physicians worked on patching your injuries, Ei held your head in her hands and spoke softly.

"I'm so, so sorry you had to do this, darling. I should have been there, just as I promised. I hope you can forgive my incompetence."

Despite your words and reassurance that it wasn't her fault, Ei would decide to not let that happen again. Ever. She promised you that you would never have to kill anyone again, no matter if she had to be by your side at all times to fulfill her promise. Keeping you away from harm was the least she could do for you, and she would do it as long as you were around.

Thanks for reading!

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clownmoontoon · 6 months ago

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RAAAAHHH HELLO ITS BEEN A MINUTE!!! \OUO/

YOUR FAVORITE CLOWN IS BACK IN BUSINESS ive been quiet a while, a LOTS been going on in my personal life that brought my social medias to a complete (and unfortunate ToT) standstill til now!

i rlly wanna talk about it, its been honestly life changing and for safety i need to add some warnings:

cw for abuse both physical and emotional, and suicidal thoughts/ideation (dw im ok and not suicidal! i used to be and i finally have real context as to why)

ANYWAYS LETS TALK ABOUT IT

i got the opportunity to see a therapist for free for the first time since i was a kid and it was IMMENSELY eye opening.

SOME CONTEXT: ive lived with just my mother since i was a teenager as i tried to "make it" as an artist. ive had my ups and downs w this career goal and have been heavy in the midst of a very big Down period. entirely brought on by how sick i was at the start of the year to june (infected lymph nodes, pneumonia, 2 pounds of tumors in my uterus that required the removal of the organ entirely etc, i may have a weak immune system im realizing sdlkjd) which resulted in me having very little energy to create and/or post content. by july i needed to basically start over. which i was excited to do! i WANTED to get back to work and i was even excited for art fight! ;u;

aaaand in july is when my mom thought would be a good time to threaten to kick me out unless i found money to give her or got a "real" job. this came as an extreme and horrifying shock as i had just asked her the month before to "believe in me just a little longer" as i finally felt i realized what id been doing wrong all these years before and felt strongly i could succeed before the end of the year, she not only emphatically agreed but even said i didnt need such a time limit and she definitely didnt mind supporting me til i reached my dream lol i couldnt even do anything until july bc i was busy recovering from major surgery, coming home with tape on my stomach to heal the incision that hadnt fully closed yet

ive wanted to see a therapist for ages bc im Full O' Trauma and i knew it would help. The way this worked was basically like getting a free trial, i got six days of therapy (to be spread out as far as i liked) thru zoom.

i used the visits more for getting advice on how to reach my goals thru mental blocks and exhaustion bc ultimately i felt like 6 days wasnt enough time to get into trauma stuff and i really just wanted to get my career off the ground again, hopefully permanently.

i had vented a tiny bit about my mom and by the final visit w my therapist i decided to forgo the "how to better reach my goals" questions and ask if she had advice on how to handle someone like my mother, who i had to live with and rely on and who would often say something cruel whenever the mood struck. as i told her about my situation she stops me and asks

"do you hear yourself? bc i hear you"

and im suddenly so scared shes going to tell me the same, "get a real job" "stop acting so selfish" etc

instead she says, "this is abuse, youre literally describing an abusive relationship"

i was in complete shock

i even asked her how could i be the one being abused when i was the one using the resources and she compared it to a person getting married to someone rich and that rich person treating them like theyre worthless for not also making money.

it shook me to my core especially bc my mom loved calling me an abuser and comparing me to her abusive ex husbands (one of which used to abuse her physically, punch her/beat her etc) and saying im just like them

for the record ive never laid a hand on her, she would say these things whenever the mood struck, often out of nowhere

once bc i told her i couldnt read her mind and didnt know what she wanted lol wild

ANYWAY after this conversation i started looking back on my life and realizing why ive always felt so worthless, why i thought until my early 20's that suicide would be the best option for everyone. i was so exhausted from chasing this dream and feeling like such a worthless burden, my mother would get so angry with me for just existing and i felt like she would be so much happier if i were out of the picture, my sisters (both a decade older and living w their own families) calling me a leech and selfish for "using" our mother etc

any time i would stand up for myself, kindly and meekly as i could my mother would tell me how she wanted to punch my mouth, slap my face etc for years i thought she'd eventually fly into such a rage one day that she'd kill me and... i honestly didnt really mind the thought once while in high school my mom picked me up for lunch and offered to pay for a prom dress. i told her that it was ok, i knew she was struggling w money rn and i didnt really wanna go to prom anyway she flew into such a rage she pulled over on the highway just to pull my hair and beat me, and then dropped me back at school to finish my day lol

realizing that all of that IS NOT OK OR A NORMAL WAY TO FEEL OR BE TREATED AND I DEFINITELY DIDNT DESERVE ANY OF THAT was extremely eye opening

i told my best friends what my therapist had said and they were both like YEAH... DID YOU NOT KNOW YOU HAD AN ABUSIVE MOTHER??

apparently it was very obvious ^^; my friends were shocked to find that i thought everything was my fault, my therapist even used the term "gaslighting narcissist" to describe her which was WILDLY VALIDATING for me lmao

sitting w all these thoughts whirling around my head my mom texts me suddenly and tells me to ask my sisters for money (13 hundred dollars lol) bc she needs it for "bills"

i didnt want to do that at all she told me to "use my big words" to convince them and not to say it was her idea, but instead to act like i was asking bc i wanted to

it felt gross and made my skin crawl and honestly didnt even make sense bc WHY would i need that money so i asked but let my sisters know it was my mom asking and said she prob felt embarrassed to ask, while telling my mom that i asked in the way she wanted

my oldest sister makes good money and has helped our mom w money in the past. she texted me back asking why our mom needed money and why 1300 and i told her honestly i didnt know, i asked my mom what to say and she said to tell her she had an itemized list but she left it at work and couldnt remember what was on it lol

my sister told me to tell our mom that she couldnt help rn, so i did and my mom encouraged me to push harder to my other sister

suddenly the sister i had been talking to texts me and says that our mom left her a voicemail saying she doesnt know WHY i would ask for money, must be bc she threatened to kick me out bc i never help her with money :,( which was WILD bc any time i had money my mom would get most if not all of it, i havent been able to save money since ... ever tbqh, even when i tried my mom would successfully guilt every dollar from me letting me know i didnt deserve to save a penny after all shes done for me aaAA

ANYWAY i was so angry and hurt that my mom would just throw me under the bus i told my sister i had proof i wasnt lying (bc she was already inclined to believe our mother since they both considered me a leech to start with) and sent her screenshots of my texts

she was shocked and hurt too i decided to tell her about my therapy and how my therapist had called our mom an abuser and she answered that she understands more than ill ever know... which is very sad hjghfgf

we havent really talked more since and i deleted my texts to the other sister, more likely than not my mom sent her a similar voicemail

im very tired

i want to get out of here, im finally seeing this relationship for what its been for years and years, even back to when i was a little kid! i didnt know about suicide but id dream of being an animal in the wild bc i felt like if i were just out of the picture everyone at home would be less angry

its something that enrages me now tbqh ive tried all my life to be as little of a burden as possible and now im ready to be a problem LMAO :o)

the long and short of it is that i will be posting art sales and opening my patreon FINALLY to try and save up funds to get out of here ive also gotten a part time job on weekends for a little cushion tho some of that money will inevitably go to my mother, unfortunately

she doesnt know about the money i make online :o)

my family has constantly called me selfish, entitled and spoiled for just asking for common decency and to be treated like a person, theyve dehumanized me to the point that my greatest coping mechanism was creating a creature sona that isnt human but a monstrous equivalent lol AND I LOVE THEM IM EMBRACING CREATURE LETS FUCKIN GO

i know this has been long and if youve made it to the end i love u and im so thankful for your support!! ;u;

FOR ALL YOUR SUPPORT!! i want to come back full force, i havent stopped drawing at all, just havent had the energy to do much til now

my therapist even pointed out that i probably WOULDVE had at least moderate steady success by now if it werent for my mom's constant abuse

OH ALSO I NOW HAVE FOUR CATS LMAO a stray i had been giving water to and keeping safe from weather things (extreme heat, extreme cold etc) had her kittens here! and my mom gave me the ok to keep them all ;u; (and then ofc rescinded that but thats hardly a surprise now lol) and man, having kids cats sure changes your perspective on what u want and feel like you deserve! I NEED TO DO WELL BC THESE KITTIES DEPEND ON ME AND I LOVE THEM QVQ <3<3

SO YEAH IM BACK BABY IM GETTING THE HELL OUTTA HERE ASAP AND CONCENTRATING ON MY WELL BEING AND MENTAL HEALTH!! 😤🔥

#clown honks #MY SELFISH ERA BEGINS NOW BABIIIEEE <3<3 #literally as i posted this my mom texted me asking for money looool i cant

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kael-writ · 11 months ago

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Im kinda obsessed with what Adrian Clairmont's backstory could possibly be. He was a "wicked, wicked man" Before Christ, but he did make bishop. And he is extremely fanatical. So he had to have sinned just enough in a certain capacity that still allowed him to be ordained in the Catholic church. Assuming he didn't lie (seems improbable that he wouldn't confess all openly in the sacrament of Confession as a true believer does). It's unlikely that means he was a criminal, at least not convicted.

If he had been a soldier that would be a very interesting BG because it would give him the ability to have done things like kill people that in no other circumstances could he have done openly and been ordained, and also it dovetails into his work as a Hunter. It makes sense he would be so good at it with that BG. But Im not sure that fits with how he speaks of a military vs a faith organization.

Adrian is, ofc, also just a very manipulative vampire conversion therapist. He could mean any number of things. He isn't necessarily particularly honest at this point.

He is bound for Perdition and still serving The Lord, so there is probably a baseline of personal conviction against outright lying but some allowance of all sorts of sin to get the job done. He clearly is willing to lie based on some of his actions, it just seems like he would consider that a sin to be used only in necessity.

There is also the question of why he was ex-communicated, what specific vampire hunter action he took that was forbidden. Or if simply being a vampire hunter period was the offense. Even though that is historic to the church in this fiction. What activities has he done with Society of Leopold /Gladius Dei or whatever organizations that would get him excommunicated?

Why does he believe he has no way to escape hell? Ex-communication in contemporary Catholicism is not condemnation to hell, it's not even necessarily permanent. It does mean you can't take sacrament in the community. But in contemporary Catholicism, God will forgive any repentant sinner. Perhaps the implication is that he has chosen to be unrepentant of sin and continue in sin just to fight vampires.

And again, he is extremely fanatical. An unwavering true believer. A committed servant of the lord. To the point of, arguably, matrydom. Yet disobeying god and the church to sacrifice his own soul for the cause?

Just a fascinating character study. Compellingly performed, but also brilliantly created to begin with. I think the backstory being unknown is certainly not a weakness, but it does effectively make you wonder about it, and thirst for more.

(CW: child sexual abuse mention here: For good reason, the fiction of the show obviously doesn't talk about the "elephant in the room" about the most notoriously evil thing that Catholic priests have gotten away with recently (CSA) because that's extremely fuckin triggering, it's not something anyone wants to think about while enjoying a ttrpg, but it's nonetheless hard to ignore that this is the organization we're talking about, and placing that past beside them both producing and ex-communicating vampire hunters draws into question what it takes for a bishop to get ex-communicated and why.)

#Adrian Clairmont #LA By Night #vampire the masquerade #brennan lee mulligan #TW CSA Mention #(in parenthesis at end)

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mthofferings2023 · 1 year ago

Photo

nostalgicatsea

See nostalgicatsea’s existing works here and here.

Preferred contact methods: Tumblr: nostalgicatsea Twitter: nostalgicatsea Discord: nostalgicatsea

Preferred organizations: - Médecins San Frontières (Doctors Without Borders) - Refugee and Immigrant Center for Education and Legal Services (RAICES) - Transgender Law Center - Waterkeeper Alliance - World Central Kitchen (See the list of approved organizations here)

Will create works that contain: Tropes/elements: character studies, angst, soulmates, slow burn, mutual or one-sided pining, self-sacrifice, amnesia, time travel, reincarnation, fake relationship, relationship of convenience, hurt/comfort, de-aging, dream world, presumed dead, temporary or permanent death, post-breakup, getting together, getting back together, post-Infinity War to post-Endgame, substance abuse and recovery, grief/mourning, parental/child and mentor/mentee relationships, friendship over the years, Tony’s family issues, dark Steve, pre-serum Steve, Hanahaki, hauntings, betrayal, forgiveness AUs: canon-divergent, mafia/gangster, magic, sports, non-powered, high school or college, supernatural, horror, sci-fi, etc. I love AUs! For writing, I tend to focus on one specific moment or a series of small moments, feelings, and relationships more than action-packed plots.

Will not create works that contain: I’m up for most things except some extreme kinks, incest, adult/minor romantic relationships, and infidelity or partner abuse in a ship (unless you're referencing a canon plot point). I'm fine with infidelity and abuse involving a villain as long as it's not OOC. I don’t have any triggers. If you want me to elaborate on my do-not-wants or have a trope, kink, or plot point that you’re not sure I’ll be okay with, please contact me beforehand. Betaing: A/B/O, D/S, OOC, PWPs, OCs, self-inserts, pure fluff without plot, Darcy-centric fics, Hydra character-centric fics, unbalanced CW plots. I’m not that fond of coffeeshop AUs, but I can help with them Writing: A/B/O, D/S, poly, comedy, complicated plots, crack, 100% pure fluff/domestic plots, kidfic (unless it’s canon), AUs that require a lot of specific knowledge (e.g., historical AUs or military AUs), reality TV AU, zombie AU, animal transformation, unbalanced CW plots, Hydra Steve

-- Fic or Other Writing --

Auction ID: 1145

Will create works for the following relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark - AvAc, MCU, Noir Bruce Banner & Clint Barton & Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov & Tony Stark & Thor - MCU Miles Morales & Miles Morales - Earth-42, Spider-Verse (animated films)

Work Description: This fic will probably be 1.5–3k. It’s possible that it may end up longer as has been the case before, but I can’t make any promises. It might take me a while to finish it as I’m slow at writing and RL keeps me busy, so please keep that in mind when bidding. I’m very interested in writing canon-compliant fics or fics set in canon, especially ones that act like snapshots of the characters at a specific time in their lives or a character/relationship study. I do love AUs as well, but I’ll only write AUs for Steve/Tony for this auction. I would appreciate it if you gave me several prompts, both general and specific, to choose from as that will increase the likelihood of the story being finished faster and lessen the likelihood of me getting writer’s block. If you have any questions about what I will and won’t write, don’t hesitate to reach out to me! I’d also like it if you reached out to me before bidding if you’re thinking of forming a pod bid.

Ratings: Gen, Teen

Can pods bid on this auction? Yes - Podbids welcome!

CLICK HERE TO BID ON THIS WORK

-- Beta Service --

Auction ID: 2072

Will create works for the following relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark - Any Universe Bucky Barnes/Sam Wilson - MCU Iron Man fandom any gen - 616, AvAc, MCU Captain America fandom any gen - 616, AvAc, MCU Avengers fandom any gen - 616, AvAc, EMH, MCU Shang-Chi fandom any gen - MCU Black Panther fandom any gen - MCU Black Widow fandom any gen - MCU Ms. Marvel fandom any gen - 616, MCU Spider-Man fandom any gen - Earth-42, Spider-Verse (animated films)

Work Description: I can help with SPaG/copyediting, flow/structure, continuity, and America-picking, and I particularly love discussing characterization, world building, plot, and character development. I love character and relationship studies and contemplative pieces that dive deeply into who the characters are and how they feel, but I also like plots that tackle serious issues or big canon points, complex plots, and plots with multiple layers/levels. I'm also up for cheer reading if you're looking for that instead! Turnaround depends on fic length and my schedule. I’m relatively fast, but if something comes up, I’ll let you know immediately. If you need references from people I betaed for, let me know. Notes on relationships: I’m willing to beta some ships along with gen/platonic relationships for the fandoms listed above. Notes on characters: There are some characters whom I’m not that fond of or interested in. I’m open to betaing almost anything, provided it follows my wants/DNWs, even with characters I’m less keen about/don’t care for, but feel free to contact me if you have questions about this. Notes on universes: For 616 and Ults, I’ll only do an AU or a story that doesn’t require specific knowledge of canon events for me to beta properly. I’ve only watched a handful of AA episodes. I’m open to Noir, AvAc, 3490, EMH, AA, 1872, Bullet Points, and Earth-TRN634 (Civil Warrior) for Steve/Tony as well.

Ratings: Gen, Teen, Mature

Can pods bid on this auction? No - I'd rather not be bid on by pods

CLICK HERE TO BID ON THIS WORK

-- Digital Work --

Auction ID: 3026

Will create works for the following relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark - Any Universe Bucky Barnes/Sam Wilson - MCU Iron Man fandom any gen - 616, AvAc, MCU Captain America fandom any gen - 616, AvAc, MCU Avengers fandom any gen - 616, 1872, AvAc, EMH, MCU Shang-Chi fandom any gen - MCU Black Widow fandom any gen - MCU Black Panther fandom any gen - MCU Spider-Man fandom any gen - Earth-42, Spider-Verse (animated films) Ms. Marvel fandom any gen - 616, MCU

Work Description: I’m offering a mood board for a character(s) or a fic of your choice (no NSFW shots) according to the theme or tone you want. Examples here. I’m up for all gen and most ships for the fandoms listed above with a few exceptions. If you have any questions, please contact me! You’ll get your mood board in 1–3 weeks, depending on whether I need to read a fic or not and how packed my schedule is. If the winning bid reaches $20, I’ll make two mood boards. For every $10 after that, I’ll throw in an extra mood board.

Ratings: Gen, Teen, Mature

Can pods bid on this auction? Yes - Podbids welcome!

CLICK HERE TO BID ON THIS WORK

The auction runs from October 22 (12 AM ET) to October 28 (11:59:59 PM ET). Visit marveltrumpshate.com during Auction Week to view all of our auctions and to place your bids!

#nostalgicatsea #auction: fic #auction: beta #auction: digital #mth 2023

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morbidpastels · 5 months ago

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HHH CANON BOT MASTERLIST

Meet the canon members of the HHH Series...

ZAALDIRE - HEAD OF THE HOTLINE - @MORBIDPASTELS

❝Oh, you poor little thing... I suppose I'll have to handle this myself.❞

☏ Life has never been very easy for you. You grew up in a low-end abusive household, got kicked out at 18 with just a suitcase and the clothes on your back, and just barely managed to get your current job in order to afford some shitty ass apartment with a shittier landlord. Nothing went well for you in the slightest, especially the fact that you had to travel through some creepy alleyway just to get home. Most times things went fine, but other were more risky than others, like tonight for example. Luckily for you though, it turned out you were being watched... ☏

TW/CW: ASSAULT, HORROR, GORE, DDNE, MANIPULATION, ELDRITCH ENTITY, AGE GAP

NB4A | VICTIM!USER x ELDRITCH!CHAR

OLAF - HOTLINE 'SUPERVISOR' - @TINFOILCAT

TBA

TUCKER VOSS - HOTLINE BROKER - @HAPPYCOZYMAUVE

❝MEHHH. IT'S WHATEVER BABES. NO SKIN OFF MY BONES.❞

☏ Life before the Hotline had been extremely dull and uneventful for Tucker, a troubled young man who found pleasure in the supernatural and as a result was bullied for it. But now that he was stuck in this hell hole for the rest of eternity? As a Broker? Please... someone just kill him. At least he can fuck with you, a fellow broker, to pass the time. ☏

TW/CW:HE IS AN ASSHOLE!!!! And could potentially dabble into DD content so... tagging as such. But hopefully he's just a goofy, stinky guy.

M4A | NEWCOWORKER!USER x BROKER!CHAR

DANIEL LINSCOTT ALT - COLLAB - @HAPPYCOZYMAUVE

❝YOU'VE GOT TO BE FUCKING KIDDING ME....❞

☏ Dan, who's recently discovered his parallel abilities comes into contact with The HHH after seeing a glimpse into the universe, and unbeknownst to him has now made himself a target for something much more sinister and dark than any conspiracy theory he's investigated thus far. Let the game of cat and mouse commence. You, a silencer for The HHH have been tasked with eliminating Dan for what he's seen. ☏

TW/CW: INCEL, SEXISM, HORROR, DDDNE

M4A | CONSPIRACY THEORIST!USER x SILENCER!CHAR

CASANDRA GOMEZ - HOTLINE CLIENT - @MORBIDPASTELS

❝I finally have you right where I want you, little rat...❞

☏ Casandra's life had been altered ever since the faithful day when The Hotline came to her aide. No longer was she some doll under someone's thumb, but a powerful leader residing over one of the most infamous clubs in New Orleans. There was one problem though, a month ago she'd found out the man she'd stolen the club from had a child... You. ☏

TW/CW: KIDNAPPING, IMPLIED DRUGGING, DDDNE, MURDER, ORGANIZED CRIME, POTENTIAL SA/NONCON, DUBCON, CAPTIVE, POTENTIAL TORTURE

F4A | CAPTIVE!USER x CLIENT!CHAR

HHH COLLAB CARRD

PLEASE CONTACT @morbidpastels ON DISCORD FOR HHH RELATED INQUIRES

#j.ai #janitor ai #j.ai bot #masterlist #series #collaboration #TheHHH

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granulesofsand · 1 year ago

Note

CW: attemptively non-detailed mentions of abuse, csa, animal death+torture, paraphilias (non contact) ABA, every classic categories of abuse, think thats it

[If this is not allowed ask my bad you can delete, I sincerely mean no harm] I apologizing if this is incoherent at all i am very brain disordered at the moment but this is the most clarity I have on things in awhile. We have been very certain on atleast C-DID levels of complexity for some time and it opened many doors and is all incredibly complicated, but have also been having issue of relating to HC-DID in ways that feel am not allowed because did not go thru a cult or outside sources (to our knowledge, only had small handful of time to process things and have high amnesia dissociation and other disorders)

we did go through some things, like here is things experience to my knowledge, have had so little time to process after life of amnesia + dissociation;

force exposure to gore & genuine satanism & satanic sacrifice & rituals, relatives torturing mutilating killing animals for sacrifice / pleasure (including pets especially meant for us) made to believe we were demon -- csa (only process rn thru somatic flashbacks etc) one of relatives was predator -- through ABA (or other organization) at young age, did inhumane things not hear of doing to others, it was maybe worse than we think, feel like it set us up for dissociative states -- beating, isolating, starving, threat of murder, strange punishments, we had adapt to be certain ways try not to be hurt and go into trance states (/or alter switch?) and inability to make noise or sob etc -- have alters who hold takeover reactions of hurt or mutulate self, of run back to them, of unalive, of do awful thing to animals like abusers had us do and did, struggle with several paraphilias and Aspd -- relatives seem to work together at times in things and use hurting us to get along or participate together -- think related to some TB/MC things for reasons I can no longer access memory to, know that they did make us go into states and be certain ways and dissociate and the organization was a part of this and or set us up for it likely -- have not just subsystem but experience layering and sidesystem aswell (many of the reactive alters are here the ones who can harm, but cannot reach them) some other innerworld structure type things

when I share too much / think on details things happen and i can't help it so I don't go in detail I hope this is okay, I try sometimes to dig and it can make some alters react in selfharm/unalive/harmful ways and i lose clarity. I don't know, I feel relation to some things of HC-DID and find help in there, but I know I cannot take space, I am just very confused and there is so little resource for some specific experiences -- I suppose I am unsure if I can even be in this space, do I have any reason other than relating and it helping us, only finding some relations in here and understandings ,_, lost; & too much

🗝️🏷️ mentioned above, RAMCOA

Before I start, I want to say that I am neither you nor your clinician, and my opinions are based only on the few paragraphs here. Whatever you conclude, that’s your process and you should hold the reigns.

RAMCOA

So. With what you’ve said, I can say that you are a RAMCOA survivor if you choose to identify as such. Below is anything else I thought possibly helpful.

Ritual Abuse doesn’t have to take place in organized groups. It doesn’t require a group at all. It’s a particular flavor of religious/belief-based trauma describing the use of symbolism as a centerpiece to the abuse.

Satanic imagery is particularly common in majority Christian areas, and can be used in an abuse dynamic as a true faith or as a method of normalizing extreme violence. Exposure to that qualifies you as a survivor of RA.

There was a time when RA was SRA, the S standing for Satanic, though it’s no longer used for all incidents of RA. Satanic Panic and Satanic Ritual Abuse are different, but not everyone knows that. I would not recommend straight Googling those terms, but there are both books and survivor spaces that will understand.

It also looks to me as though programming, or at least Mind Control may have taken place. Programming is what makes a system Highly Complex. All programming is MC, but not all MC is programming. HC-DID systems were intentionally split, structured, or controlled via cue-response or other heavy conditioning.

Abusers don’t have to know specific words or be affiliated with any group to create a programmed system. Organized Abuse can cooccur, referring to high control groups like cults and trafficking rings, but is not necessary for programming.

Mind Control

Mind Control is intentional, but it doesn’t require the awareness of the current perpetrator. Sometimes called Manipulative Conditioning, it refers to a plethora of practices; for example

Generational groups can program members without any ill meaning because those inflicting the programming are in turn also programmed.

McDonald’s is using MC if they research color schemes for advertising with the intent of drawing in customers, but not if they choose it because they happened to like that same set of colors.

I would also say that MC is inherently abusive. It is a different thing to teach a child not to break a glass by reacting negatively and then repairing the bond than it is to knowingly use the same negative reaction to induce disordered eating. It’s a matter of control and agency which we are not currently capable of utilizing safely.

For those reasons, ABA is also MC. It aims to change behaviors with the intention of forcing conformity. It becomes Torture*-Based MC when pain is weaponized for this purpose, or Drug-Based MC when substances are present. (*I consider torture and trauma alike when purposefully applied.)

Programming

T/DBMC both include a deeper level of intention and coercion, and I would not correct someone who called these experiences programming. My own definition of programming leans into the specific outcome that pairs with the intention, and I cannot decide for another whether their experiences meet this standard.

Sidesystems in HC-DID refer to subgroups of alters placed away from other alters by programmers, often with a particular purpose. Some plurals use sidesystem as only a subgroup of alters away from other alters, which is therefore possible without programming.

Layers are not, to my knowledge, limited by any HC-DID definition. They appear with frequency in programmed systems because they can be used for organization, and because many experiences** common among RAMCOA survivors can create similar structuring (**repetition in MC or RA, need to separate large groups of alters, different innerworld settings that cannot be contained in one area).

I will include that having both of these, as well as surviving RA and MC, can be indicative of programming. Some HC-DID systems consider all polyfrag RAMCOA systems HC, others place more emphasis on programming than structure. Some insist upon both.

HC-DID

There is no label police that will revoke your license, only people who are sometimes mean. You are the one who decides whether or not to call your system HC, and you don’t have to explain your story for anyone but yourselves.

We believe that other alters do not owe information to even their own systemmates, but that bit is for y’all to decide.

Try not to push too hard for memories. Listen to others inside and work with each other where possible, as trust makes communication easier. It’s hard to work with trauma, especially of this variety, and I hope that you find community with whichever labels you use.

#ramcoa #tw ramcoa #tw child abuse #torture #mind control #did osdd #dissociative identity disorder #osddid #traumagenic system #polyfragmented system #did system

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