#help i fell for him again i need to inject him into my veins

[wolpertinger-prince]

I miss my wife, Tumblr.

I miss him a lot.

[junesfinalproject]

Hey! This is my first post here. I got bored and fell in love with this one song. I also fell in love with Sally Face so, hey, why not make a oneshot about it?

I think that I’m okay with this || sal fisher x reader oneshot

no warnings, just fluff!

༺ ♱✮♱ ༻

It was a chilly day, you and Sal were sitting around in his room.

You guys were bored out of your minds, longing for something to do. It was too cold to go out, but there were no inside activities. The weather was expected to be better this day, so you guys scheduled a small hangout. Little did you (both) know, the weather would change drastically. Sal didn’t want to cancel on you, so he decided he’d find a way to make something work.

“Hey, how about some music? That could always chill out the mood… no pun intended.” He said softly, and gestured to the outside once he said the last few words.

“I’m down.” You spoke with a small smile on your face.

“Alright.” He replied, and smiled back. Though you could not see it through this prosthetic, you knew he did.

He reached over to his C.D. player, and put in a mix, labeled “nothing better to do”

For the first few songs you both just laid back, enjoying the tunes and rambling on about nothing and everything at the same time. Some funky songs came on, some sad songs, and so on.

“So, how’d your week go?” Sal asked.

You spoke back to him, “Eh, nothing much. Just in need of some decompression.. which, you’re helping with..”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Sal was happy to be helping with your desire for calming down, especially since it wasn’t intentional.

You normally felt comfortable around Sal, unusually with him a lot more than others. There was something about the blue flame of a boy that you just felt safe with.

His gentle personality, his reassurance, his kindness; especially.

Everything about him was eased out perfectly.

✧･ﾟ: *✧ —————————-

“Well, if there’s anything else you need, just let me know.”

“Okay, I will.” A smile formed on your face.

“Uh- hey.. so I was thinking..” Sal said implicitly.

“About?”

“How come you never do this stuff with the rest of the group?”

You raised an eyebrow, not really getting what he meant, but still intrigued.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you know. I’ve heard the rest of the group talking about their get togethers with you and.. it never sounds anything like we do.”

He verbalized gingerly.

“Is that a bad thing?” You asked.

“No, of course not.” He smiled in the middle of the sentence “I just felt like I needed to bring it up.. it seemed nice, and I just wanted to get your input.” He stated consolingly.

“Well, I guess I just feel a bit more relaxed when I’m with you. Like I don’t have to fake everything all the time. You have that effect on people.”

His grin grew wider.

“Yeah? You think so?”

“Mhm.”

Just then, a song you’ve never heard before started on the C.D.

You couldn’t help but get tantalized by it.

“Hey, what’s this song called?” You asked eagerly.

“I dunno, let me check…” Sal reached for the list of songs on the paper taped to the back of it. “Ah- fly, by blood-witch. Ever heard of them?”

“No. Never..”

You listened to the beat carefully, every tune, every instrument, every lyric; coursed through your veins. You were being injected by a frisson.

Your head swayed a little bit as it continued, tapping your fingers on your knees as well.

Sal noticed your subtle movements, and admired them. He stared at you with a twinkle in his eye.

You looked up, and made eye contact with him right when the beat dropped. It felt like you had heard the song all over again.

Sal inched closer to you, not being shy about things, but looked fairly nervous. He sat beside you on the floor, and placed his hand on the ground next to him, which was also the space between you both.

You kept your eye contact with him, and eventually got lost in thought. You placed your hand down, unintentionally grazing his.

“I.. uhm.. sorry.” You gulped and moved your hand away a bit.

“Hey, don’t be.” And in a swift movement, he intertwined his hands with yours.

. . . . . . . . . . - - - - ╰──╮

‘What was happening?’ You wondered. You were not mad about it though, or confused. You just let things happen.

Sooner than later, you leaned onto his shoulder. Your body moving too quickly for your mind, or at least that’s what it felt like.

He carefully removed his prosthetic with his free hand. You had seen his face underneath before, considering you had known each-other for two years already. He was comfortable doing this by now, though it took some time.

You looked up at him, and just flashed a warm smile. He gave one back, the butterflies hitting harder now, since it was his real face smiling.

Eventually, you two ended up intertwined completely in each other’s warmth. Sal gently stroking your hair, while you rubbed his arm a bit. Still holding hands.

By the end of the song, this just felt natural. Even though you two hadn’t really done anything like this before, it was oddly familiar.

╭──╯ . . . . . . . . . . - - - - - - - - - - -

The song had ended, along with the mix. You basked in silence before Sal spoke up.

“Are you alright with this? I-I know it happened a bit suddenly.. I just wanted to make sure.”

“Of course I am, Sal. This feels right. Like it was meant to happen.”

“Okay.” He nodded and gave another smile.

You shifted your position a little, now with your arms being around his neck and his arms around your waist and lower back, facing across from one another.

The tension was there. Not the bad kind of tension, though. The type of tension where neither of you could get out a word, but knew exactly what you wanted to say.

Sal moved a strand of hair out of your face, following the gesture with a tiny stroke to the back of your head.

Him and you looked into each other’s eyes, his glare full of reverence and love. He slowly started leaning into your face.

You didn’t mind this at all, in fact, you leaned in as well.

Soon enough, your lips met with his. A tiny peck planted on his scarred face.

You two pulled back, and looked at one another with admiration.

He got closer and closer, and closer.. till y’alls lips met again. This time it lasted for a little longer. He rubbed your back softly while you squeezed his hand.

Once you guys stopped, he pulled you into his chest very gently, making sure not to startle you or hurt you. He placed his calloused hand on the back of your head once more, for comfort.

You nuzzled into his chest, longing to be closer to him.

You muttered softly before fully submerging yourself with his love,

“I think that I’m okay with this.”

[tinyinvadr]

Next chapter’s up! It’s… a lot.

TW: Mind control, borrower experimentation, brief mention of needles

Psychoborrower: Whispering Rock

Chapter 5

That night, I expressed my concerns about Ash to Sasha and Milla. They agreed that it didn’t seem to be a coincidence, but they were hesitant to get on board with confronting him unless we had more solid evidence. After all, he was still a kid. And there were still some things about him that confused me and didn’t line up.

Yet, I couldn’t shake the feeling that it was him.

Thankfully, for my sanity’s sake, this mystery was about to come to an end. I was going to face off with the Dreamwalker and finally get some answers.

“Alright, darling, now just try and get some rest. We’ll be right here with you all night, and if anything happens, we’ll wake you up.”

“Of course. And… thanks again for staying with me.”

She smiled, tucking my blankets in and ruffling my hair. “It’s no trouble. Goodnight, darling.”

With that, she shut off the lights. Before I drifted off, I could hear her and Sasha making light conversation about recent events. I wasn’t really paying attention, but their voices comforted me. It brought me back to the nights when I was younger and I’d overheard them talking while half asleep. Even back then, I got the sense that they were talking about me. That they were proud of me. I’m so glad I was right.

I fell into a deep sleep, and their voices faded away. Around me, my dream began to materialize. This time, instead of floating in a void, I was in a distinct location.

It was a place I didn’t recognize. Dark, enclosed, and eerily quiet. I couldn’t really see what was in the room with me, but I could make out the long stretch of hallway in front of me. In the dark, it looked like it went on forever.

Suddenly, a muffled voice spoke from above the room.

“Here at PSI-Tech, our goal is to provide agencies with state of the art equipment. We’ve brought you in here because we’ve seen how proficient you are with your sense of control. Which is why we’d like you to test run the Vessel Labyrinth experiment. Whenever you’re ready, simply focus on the box, and your consciousness will be sent into the vessel inside. From there, navigate past the traps and make it to the finish. Don’t worry if you don’t get it on the first try. We can easily replace the vessel if need be.”

I didn’t have time to process what any of that meant before I was suddenly hit with a painful shock inside my head. The pain stopped after a second, but then, my body started to run forward, completely out of my control. I couldn’t stop, speak, or scream. Someone else was controlling my brain, and by extension, my body. They were using my powers to get past the traps. At least they seemed to know what they were doing, but that didn’t make the experience any less terrifying. I was powerless to stop what was happening. Just… a vessel.

I thought it would finally end as I saw myself approaching the finish line, but right before I reached it, a nozzle in the wall released flames at me, and I could feel it burning my skin. I collapsed on the floor as I regained control, but at that point, I was too weak to stand back up.

“Excellent! You were very close. Give me a moment to reset the vessel and you can run through it again.”

Just as I regained enough strength to stand back up, I felt something jab me in the back of my shoulder. A needle.

Some sort of drug was injected into my veins. At first I thought it was to numb the pain. Instead, it made my body go limp. It wasn’t a painkiller. It was to stop me from escaping.

The ceiling opened up, and a hand reached down and grabbed me, lifting me out to put me back at the start of the maze. My vision had started to blur, but during the brief period where I was outside of the box, I saw a familiar face in the room.

Standing beside the man who grabbed me was a younger looking Sasha. My mind glossed over the implications and I immediately tried to ask him for help, but my voice was too weak for me to raise it above a whisper.

“Sasha… please… help…”

The world faded into a freezing void once again, and my strength returned. The Dreamwalker appeared to me again, still obscured by the mist.

“He’s not going to help you. Who do you think was controlling you just a minute ago?”

“No…”

“This is why they say ‘don’t meet your heroes’, kid. I told you. The Psychonauts don’t care about you if they were willing to hire somebody like that. Who’s to say they don’t one day decide we’re nothing more than expendable tools?”

I clenched my fists, staring down the Dreamwalker. This was a trick. It had to be.

“You’re lying! Sasha would never do something like that!”

“Then why don’t you ask him yourself?”

I was hit in the head with a blast of ice, and I woke up in a cold sweat. Sasha and Milla were still awake, and they both looked at me with concern.

“Flint, are you alright?”

Sasha approached my bed, reaching towards me to pick me up. In a panic, I swatted him away.

“Don’t touch me!”

He immediately stopped, instead opting to crouch next to the desk. I couldn’t look him in the eye.

“Just… tell me it’s not true.”

“What are you talking about?”

Saying it out loud made me feel sick, but I forced the words out anyway.

“The… vessel experiment. Tell me you didn’t do it!”

He went quiet for a moment. The fact that he couldn’t answer right away was already a bad sign. I knew what was coming, but I wanted to pretend that it never would.

“I did… I was an intern at PSI-Tech, and I participated in that experiment.”

“You hurt people! People like me! You could’ve killed them!”

“Flint, I-”

“No, I don’t wanna hear it! I can’t believe I ever trusted you!”

With that, I retreated into the walls, breaking down in tears once I was fully hidden. I’d never felt so betrayed before. To think that the man I’d looked up to for the past three years, the one who taught me how to use my powers, the one who protected me and acted as a temporary guardian while I was away from home, was also a monster who experimented on borrowers.

I felt so, so stupid. And on the basis of this revelation, could I truly trust anyone anymore? How many people knew about this and swept it under the rug?

Based on the muffled shouting I heard from my place in the walls, Milla didn’t know. In fact, I’d never heard her so angry before. I almost couldn’t recognize her voice.

Suddenly, I was pulled back out of the wall with Telekinesis, and I was dropped off in Milla’s hands.

“Come on, Flint, we’re leaving.”

I didn’t say a word as she ran off with me, clutching me tightly to her chest as I heard her start to cry. It made sense that this also hurt her deeply. As much as she tried to hide it, she loved him.

Once we were far away from the lab, she sat with me outside of one of the cabins. Tears streamed down her face, and neither of us spoke for a few minutes. We both needed time to process what just happened.

“I… I am so sorry, Flint. I didn’t know. But I need you to know that I would never hurt you, or anyone for that matter. I just… I never thought he would… I thought I knew him…”

I sighed. “Yeah, so did I. It’s not your fault, Milla. And I appreciate you looking out for me. It’s… It’s hard to believe. There’s a part of me that wants it to be a lie, but he told us himself. God… I just don’t get it. Why would he do something so horrible?”

She brushed her thumb along the back of my head. “I don’t know, darling. I’ll try and talk to him again in the morning after I’ve calmed down. For the time being, you’re staying in my cabin. I don’t want you in that lab anymore, understood?”

I nodded, and she brought me inside the cabin. She put an extra pillow on the floor next to the bed for me, then set me down on it and got into bed herself.

The rest of the night was almost sleepless. I drifted off a bit here and there, but I kept waking up, paranoid that I’d end up in that maze again.

I finally succumbed to dreamless sleep late into the night, and by the time I woke up the next morning, Milla had already left.

Outside, I heard footsteps approaching, and I instantly tensed up. Someone knocked on the door, but I didn’t respond.

“Flint? Can I talk to you?”

I didn’t answer him. He knew damn well what I wanted to say to him anyway.

“Milla’s with me. I’m not asking or expecting you to forgive me, I only want to explain what you saw.”

I scoffed. “What’s there to explain? I didn’t just see it, Sasha. I experienced it. In the dream, I was the ‘vessel’. You were controlling me.”

“Flint, please… Let me explain what really happened, and I promise I’ll never bother you again.”

“Fine. But only if Milla’s also in the room.”

At that, they both walked in. Milla seemed to have calmed down, and didn’t look like she wanted to rip his head off anymore. I figured she wouldn’t have let him see me if he didn’t have a decent explanation, but I was still skeptical.

Sasha sat in a chair on the other side of the room, while Milla sat on her bed. She offered her hand to me, and I climbed on, allowing her to hold me close during this discussion. It was hard to truly feel any comfort in this situation, but I appreciated her for trying.

“As I told you last night, before I worked for the Psychonauts, I had been granted an internship at a now defunct technology company known as PSI-Tech. They were a scientifically-minded organization that aimed to produce and sell equipment to psychic agencies. My job was to test a variety of devices. One of which was a project involving mind control.”

“But… why would you agree to do that?! Everyone knows mind control is wrong! You’re taking away someone’s ability to control themself!”

He sighed. “Yes. But the higher ups at PSI-Tech were insistent that their latest ‘product’ would allow organizations to practice ethical mind control. That couldn’t have been farther from the truth. When I took the position, I was told that the ‘vessels’ were nothing more than lab grown bodies without any sentience. They insisted that using mind control on them was harmless because they weren’t alive to begin with. In actuality, they were very much alive, and they weren’t created in a lab. They were borrowers who had been captured, and were regularly drugged to keep them from escaping or calling for help. I only discovered the truth when my boss made the mistake of leaving me alone with the labyrinth box long enough for the borrower inside to wake up. Once I realized what I’d been doing, I was disgusted, and I knew I had to put a stop to it. I freed the borrower and made a call to the Psychonauts. Unfortunately, my boss walked in on me reporting PSI-Tech, and in an attempt to hide the evidence, he…”

Sasha trailed off, unable to finish that sentence. I could already tell exactly what happened.

“He killed them, didn’t he?”

To my surprise, I saw a tear roll down his cheek. I’d never seen Sasha cry before.

“Yes. By the time the Psychonauts arrived, it was already too late to save them. But regardless, they shut the entire operation down and placed all of us under arrest. It was only a week later that I was visited by Truman. He knew I was the one who reported PSI-Tech, and he wanted to give me another chance. I declined his offer at first, believing I could never redeem myself after working for that terrible place and allowing innocent lives to be taken. But Truman told me that I had already taken the first step. I threw away any chance at furthering my career and didn’t try to present myself as a hero. I was fully willing to face the consequences of my actions, aware that my ignorance was not an excuse for the harm I caused. He believed that I could change because I had already proven that I wanted to. From there, I was taken to the Motherlobe, and placed in a new internship under Otto Mentallis, until I was eventually promoted to the position of a full-fledged agent.”

I took a minute to process everything. Hearing Sasha himself describe what happened was unreal. I still didn’t want to believe it. It was a bit of a relief to know that he was lied to about what the experiment actually was, and that he put a stop to it as soon as he learned the truth, but that didn’t change the fact that he still ultimately hurt people.

“I just… I don’t think I can look at you the same way anymore.”

He nodded. “That’s completely understandable. And I’m sorry I kept this from both of you. It’s not a time that I like to remember, but it happened, and there’s no going back and changing it. The best I can do is move forward and strive to be a better person than I was.”

Even after getting this explanation, there was one thing that still didn’t man make sense.

“Why do you think the Dreamwalker told me about this? I mean, I get that they want me to turn my back on the Psychonauts, but it seems like they know you personally. And if that’s the case, it can’t be Ash. He’s only a year older than me, and that was like ten years ago that you were working for PSI-Tech, so unless you’re about to tell me you were experimenting on toddlers, there’s no way it was him.”

“Definitely not. Though, it’s possible he may know someone who was involved. I’d suggest talking to him, and if he’s willing, I’d like to speak with him as well. Maybe we can work out a solution to all of this. Regardless of what I did, it was uncalled for to drag you into this.”

“Heh… agreed. I’ll go find him. Figure out what’s going on.”

Milla got up, opening the cabin door so she could let me outside. The moment she opened it, we were met with a disturbing sight.

The entire summer camp was covered in snow.

[fewblood]

Beware of the Shadow - König x Fem Reader - Part 4 👁

"Alright… I surrender." König groaned.

I hastily released his arms as a rush of relief floods my whole body and mind, not even questioning if he was genuine or not. He strongly pushed himself up, causing me to fall to the ground in the process. He halfheartedly dusted off his shirt before his raspy voice echoed through the cold walls of the gym again.

"I did not expect this level of aggression from you, but I should have known better. You will do just fine here, soldier." he admitted, his voice tinted with a tad of annoyance.

König's gaze was like a laser piercing through my flesh, focusing particularly on my upper body. A shiver traveled all along my naked spine, soon realizing how much skin I was exhibiting. Heat rushed to my cheeks as I grabbed my shirt and frantically put it back on. 

I could almost hear him labeling me as an exhibitionist now. But let's play cool for now, at least I'm… alive!

"To be frank I never thought I would win, but..." 

I let my lips stretch to a cocky grin.

"... the end justifies the means, am I right?"

I cupped my hips with my hands and proudly puffed out my chest, like the true winner I was. König let out a small, almost mocking laugh as he looked away for a moment. His eyebrows furrowed when his face fell toward me again.

"Don't let it get to your head, you won one match. You have a lot more to prove before you start bragging."

Amused, I replied tit for tat: "And I think you should take a look at your hand before giving lessons!"

I bursted into laughter as I saw the fresh wound throbbing. König turned his head slightly and only acknowledged it with a scoff. His aura changed to a more somber one as he leisurely walked toward me, much like a predator to his prey, closing the space remaining between us. 

"Don't think I am not one for revenge," he said sternly, growing annoyed again. 

He towered over me from all his height, more menacing than ever. My fight or flight reflexes kicked in when he slowly moved his arm in front of my face. I flinched, ready to go back at it, but it was only to showcase the sweet injury I left him, presenting to me the irrefutable evidence of my crime.

I smiled at the view of the perfect imprint of my teeth on his skin. I took great pleasure in analyzing it, checking if everything was in place like the dentist I wasn't. 

I couldn't deny the absurdity of the situation as a sense of amusement bubbled within me, threatening to spill over in the form of a giggle. König shot me a glare and I couldn't help it; another laugh escaped my lips as a result of nerves mixed with excitement. 

His expression hardened, which caused me to feel a wave of cold air wash over my body. He stared at me for a few more seconds before speaking again. 

"Laugh all you want, but you will pay for that in due time." König warned with a low, guttural voice.

My eyes snapped right back onto his. I tried to compose myself, wiping away my grin, but failed miserably. Despite the impending fallout, I reveled in the pettiness of our exchange.

"And yet, you're the one who wished for a fight—what were you expecting?" I quipped.

I crossed my arms on my chest as to put more weight to my plea, the adrenaline from our match still coursing through my veins, a mocking smile dancing on my lips. 

König gazed at me intently, remaining stoic and deep in thoughts for a moment as the echoes of our fight still lingered in the air. Clearly, he had little tolerance for disrespect, nor did he appreciate my respondent. 

"What was I expecting?"  König repeated in a threatening tone, "I was expecting a fight, not a little wolf trying to sink her teeth into me."

"Though you liked it." I smirked.

His cold body language and deadly stare told me everything I needed to know. He wasn’t amused by my attempt to inject humor into the situation, not at all. 

Unimpressed, he bent down and firmly gripped my shoulder, getting to my height like he would with a little child, but his tone was everything but gentle and reassuring: his voice was cold and slow, mechanic almost. 

"I'll admit I underestimated you, but don't try to eat more than you can swallow." "You're still new here." "And replaceable."

Ouch. This hurt more than I would have liked to. The amusement dimmed off of my face as the reality of potential consequences sank in. The force he displayed moments ago also made me reconsider to just nicely comply rather than stand up to him. I still want to work here after all, and being a fractious little gremlin won't do me any favors.

König's gaze shifted downward to my shoulder, which was still in his grasp. His expression had returned to its former demeanor—stoic and reserved. 

"If you really want to earn your place in this taskforce, you'll have to do more than surprise me." he warned.

Ah, so beating your ass doesn't count I guess?

"You know that you'll have to prove your shooting skills tomorrow, or perhaps you really didn't listen earlier?"

As he locked his blue eyes with mine I could feel heat emanating from his body, perfectly contrasting with that icy gaze of his.

He squeezed my shoulder, enjoying the tension he was forcing me to feel. But I wasn't overly concerned about it; instead, I saw it as a challenge to take on.

"I know, and I will sir." I simply replied, not wanting to address the part about me dozing off in the middle of a meeting.

Our faces were mere inches apart, our foreheads almost touching. I unconsciously seized the opportunity of being this close to analyze what could be grasped of his masked face. His grayish eyes were half closed, looking almost tired. The body paint he was using around them made them pop so much it was impossible not to dwell on them. If he wasn't so much of a pain in the ass, I could almost admit they were stunning. 

As no sound came to my ears, I started to wonder if I had pressed the pause button unintentionally. König looked almost puzzled as he remained silent and motionless. Yet, I don't remember hitting him on the head.

I slightly rotated my head to inspect König's hand, still grabbing me by the shoulder. It was so big in comparison, I wondered for a second where else it could go without giving me that impression.

"You have something else to say?" I almost scolded, looking at him with a side eye.

His eyes flicked to meet mine as I spoke. The tension in the air was palpable as he continued to hold my shoulder, but his grip was slowly loosening.

Finally, after a moment of silence, he let go and turned away. 

"That's all, soldier," he said in a somewhat bored tone as he walked away, "Be sure to get plenty of rest, you'll need it for tomorrow."

I looked at him leaving the building, puzzled with what just had happened, before eventually making my own way out of it. Soon after, hot water was finally cascading over me in the showers, washing away the remnants of the day's chaos. The sound of the running water provided a soothing backdrop as I stood there, reflecting on the surreal turn of events. 

Steam filled the cubicle, creating a perfect reflection of my state of mind. Despite the warmth, a shiver ran down my spine. Still, I couldn't help but to smile as I replayed the scene in my mind. 

When I got back to my room, the weight of the day settled in. I crawled into bed, the softness of the sheets offering a stark contrast to the hardness of the gym floor. Everything was quiet, the only sound being the distant hum of the late base activity.

Lying there in the dark, I couldn't shake the feeling of accomplishment that clung to me like a comforting blanket. There was a certain satisfaction in defying expectations, especially when they were mine. Yet, beneath the amusement, a flicker of concern still lingered in the back of my mind. 

I could see the bite mark as if it was still in front of me: a symbolic reminder of today's events, engraved in my memory—but mostly onto König's skin. 

I giggled, thinking about how he'll have to put up with it for a while. But it was my message for him, full of innuendos, like how someone signs a letter for their lover with a lipstick kiss mark; only the intent here clearly more on the hate than on the love side. 

As I closed my eyes, the image of König danced in my mind, a peculiar lullaby that accompanied me into the realm of sleep.

_______________________________

Previous part ● Table of content ● Next part

[sxnguinesxnctum]

A soft gasp escapes his lips when the Hunter attempted to stand so suddenly, and his breath was held when he still showed signs of pain. A hand found the other's shoulder, and gently accompanying him as he sat properly once again he looked through his pockets for another watered down vial. It wouldn't be much, but still necessary to make sure Gascoigne returned to full health as fast as possible.

"There was, yes." the Vicar nodded, fumbling with the little that remained of the last bottle on his person and the syringe quickly handed to him as he returned to the man's side, searching for his veins for another injection "We truly thought we were headed to good results, but..."

The needle pierced the flesh, and Laurene fell quiet once more - partially to completely focus on his current actions, and partially because, really... did he have to explain things weren't going as quickly as he hoped? Every week -- almost every day, more and more people show sign of that damn disease, and he still wasn't even sure of what caused it to begin with. The following comments couldn't help but make him feel even more nervous. Again, there was no reason to properly comment about it - she didn't put her heart in any Hunt for a long while, and even if he hoped to see her a little more active, he could also understand her reasonings.

No, no. No reason to start a discussion. He'd much rather give Gascoigne a quick look - one that was meant to silently warn him to watch his words, or if anything his tone - before the second syringe was taken away.

"I'd hate to see you overworked..." again, his tone sounded almost jovial "But I do agree, having more Hunters around here could be the best prevention we could get, for the time being. ...even if-- Forgive my curiosity, but I need to ask.

What caused this?"

A quick gesture to point at Gascoigne's bloody and battered body.

"It couldn't be the usual Beasts."

"What?" Gascoigne almost shot out of his chair again. The Blood was hard at work in his veins, eating through injuries and killing the fever in his wounds. Still it was not enough to immediately return him to vitality and a blinding ray of white pain shot up his side, piercing his lungs again. He grunted and sank back as Laurence assured him that the threat was dealt with and the nurse fled down the hallway and towards the nearest flight of stairs. The hunter snarled in discontent.

"It's too little to put them down after the fact. Wasn't there talk of preventive care?" A cruel euphemism that would end in chained up coffins in due time, but for now it ought to suffice. Gascoigne first saw a beast, true and great, at Byrgenwerth. And since that time they seemed to have only grown fiercer, meaner. One could not wait for the sickness to realize itself within its pitiful host. It needed to be excised at once. But these were talking points Gascoigne had no energy to chew on tonight.

"Well, I trust our Lady of the tower has taken care of it." He put the matter to rest, knowing well enough she just as likely hadn't lifted a finger. She was protective of her charges but all the more hateful of the hunt. And quiet, so quiet. He coughed again.

"Perhaps it's not a bad idea, me staying for a short while. Beasts travel in packs, no? If the infection spreads to the injured that'll be a whole world of trouble for you and the good doctors. Best not to take any chances."

[mint-yooxgi]

Delectable - Yandere!Naga!Wooyoung

Yandere AU & Naga AU - First Person POV

Genre: Mature, Smutty Themes, Internal Monologue

Pairing: Wooyoung X Implied Chubby!Reader

Words: 1,453

Warnings: Implied kidnapping, drugging, and dirty thoughts. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: Short little drabble for you guys! Hope you enjoy! Feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy!~

The Third of The Feral Drabbles

You should be more careful walking in the woods at night, you never know what creeps in the dark. Even I can sense the hungry eyes that follow your every move; you’re lucky I found you first. 

Then again, this has always been the plan.

Your skin is much softer than I could have ever imagined. The warmth that radiates from you is addictive, and I can’t wait to get you back to my nest- excuse me- our home. You’ll be much more comfortable there than on the cold, hard forest floor. Besides, I’ll be able to wrap myself around you better. 

For your protection, of course. No other reason…

It’s not like I’ve been dreaming of this moment for weeks or anything. The feeling of finally having you in my arms… well, there’s none like it.

My reptilian friends always tell me about you. They have to. I tell them to. Ever since the first time you walked through my territories, I couldn’t let you go. I knew in my heart of hearts I had to have you, and that we were made for each other. Though, I’m not quite sure how you’ll react to me. Hopefully positively.

I did save you, after all.

Everything went as planned. The animals listened to me, or well, at least the ones that count. They helped you lose your way in the foliage, leading you right into my trap. 

Or should I say right into my awaiting arms?

It had been a simple plan, really. I’m surprised how easily you fell for it, given how intelligent you are. It’s one of the reasons why I love you so much. Finally, there’s someone to match me at my every level.

Your tracks and path back through the woods had been covered, and then you were chased deeper through the bush by a ‘large animal’. 

Really, I didn’t mean to scare, nor deceive you, but desperate times call for desperate measures. 

I couldn’t have you leaving me again. You’ll understand, right? Besides, I appeared just in time to save your life. Though, I don’t know how much of that you’ll remember. After all, some of my venom is flowing through your veins at this very moment. It’s why I have to carry you home right now, rather than leading you there on foot. I don’t need you gathering your bearings too quickly. You’re not meant to leave me now. Not after all of this hard work and effort I put in to making you mine.

I’ll admit, the bite had another meaning other than just injecting my venom into your bloodstream. It’s meant to warn others not to touch you. It’s my own claim on you, for now, until such a time when you allow me the honour of properly mating with you. It might be a little difficult at first, but I think we’ll manage just fine. Besides, I overheard you laughing with that stupid friend of yours the other day about it. I nearly broke my cover then and there when I heard you teasing him about certain reptilian anatomy.

You, of course, seemed very eager to share your knowledge. Him, on the other hand, kept stuttering and fumbling in his steps. I could sense the heat radiating off of him from your words, and I could just tell his thoughts weren’t very pure where you and he were concerned. 

So, you’ll understand when I say I had to get rid of him. Besides, only I should ever get to be that close to you. You’re mine.

Oh, I’m sorry My Darling, I guess I tightened my grip on you too much just now. I can’t help it, I just get so worked up whenever I think about you. Especially when I picture you in the arms of another.

There. You seem to quite enjoy my hand brushing over your head. 

Dare I be so bold as to caress the side of your face?

…I don’t care if it’s subconscious, I know what I just saw. What I just felt.

You leant into me. You wanted my touch. Perhaps you’ll soon crave mine as I’ve desperately been craving yours.

I should probably mention that my scales are quite sensitive, especially around my sides. Countless nights have been spent curled up in our bed, desperately fantasizing about how your delicate hands will feel all over me. My own touch can only go so far; only satisfy me so much.

Fuck, you smell so delectable right now. This is the closest we’ve ever been, and your scent is already starting to rub off on me. Which also means that, pleasantly, you will start smelling like me, too.

How it should be. How it is always meant to be.

Yep. I can already sense it in the air. The crisp aroma of you mingling so beautifully with me dances on my tongue. Though, that’s not the only thing I desperately crave to scent. To taste.

I’ve only ever caught the pleasant scent of your arousal once on all of your explorations into my territory, and I desperately wish I could say it was because of me. Alas, it was not. It has been due to that friend of yours that one day. You seemed to like him in the same ways he liked you, maybe even more. 

I couldn’t stand for that. He never deserved you. You’re too good for him. You belong with me, and I with you.

What only made it worse was the thought of him touching you.

Good thing he’ll no longer be a problem for us.

No, only I shall get to please you. Only I will be able to understand your captivating body like you’ve always deserved. I want to take my time exploring every bump and crevice. After all, every dip and curve is mean for me. Only I am meant to map out every inch of your body, using my hands, my lips, my tongue.

Once I’ve done that, then the true fun can begin. Then, I’ll finally be able to know every single little touch that drives you crazy, working you up in the best of ways before you’re gushing on my cocks, desperate for more.

Perhaps I’ll even use some more of my venom on you. I’ve been told I have quite a strong aphrodisiac, which only makes every touch that much more sensitive for you. 

Of course, this would all be with your consent. I’d never do anything you were uncomfortable with, or anything that might scare you away. I love you. Besides, I’m your saviour, remember?

Mmmh, just thinking about your fucked out expression as my cocks fill you to the brim is enough to get me going. I’ll have to spend some time preparing you for me, though. Not that I’ll mind at all, it just means more time spent between those plush thighs of yours, working that weeping cunt open to fit all of me in you.

Fuck, I can’t wait to feel myself dripping out of you, your tight walls milking me for everything I’ve got.

You’d like that, wouldn’t you? The feeling of my two cocks buried in that tight little pussy of yours, claiming you as mine in every primal way I know how? I bet you’d love me covering you in my scent, having my come dripping out of you for weeks and letting everyone know that you belong to me, and I to you.

I want to make you come so hard, your eyes roll to the back of your head as you nearly pass out from the pleasure of it all. I want to make you see stars as you scream my name, your nails digging into my back as you pull me closer. I want to feel your legs wrapping around my waist, drawing me into your warmth as if you might just float away if you let go. I want to kiss you breathless, letting you feel my love for you in every movement as I claim you as my own.

More than all of that, though, I want to make you as desperate for me as I am for you.

Oh, I hope my pleased hiss didn’t just cause you to stir. I can get so lost in my own fantasies sometimes…

That’s just the effect you have on me.

Luckily, it does not appear that you’ve been disturbed, but don’t worry, we’re almost home. I’ll wrap you up properly in our bed, and make sure not to leave you until you’re conscious again.

After all, that’s when our life together will truly start.

I’ll take care of you, don’t worry. 

You’re safe with me.

[emmett-stone]

There wasn’t much more he could say, really. He’d already been at it for hours, begging for his life, and by this point Emmett was getting bored. Earlier in the night, it had been fun, as it always was. The empty threats of, “They’ll find me,” he’d said with shaky words. “They’ll—they’ll fingerprint me.”

Emmett had smiled, drill in hand, pushing the button once, twice, just for fun. Just to see the way it made him jump. “They’ll be finding parts of you for years,” Emmett said. “But I promise you, your hands will not be included in that.” His victim paled, and Emmett’s smile grew. But now, hours after, the light of morning teased the horizon, and Emmett had a lunch meeting at twelve. He needed to get a move on.

“I think we’ve both had enough, don’t you?” Emmett asked casually as he picked up the ax that had propped against the steel table to his left. The man sat there slumped over as much as he could be while still tied to the chair, duct tape across his lips. He’d managed to get it off a little over an hour ago, breaking the seal on the corner with a particularly powerful scream after Emmett had broken his kneecap with a sledge hammer. He was broken now Emmett thought, which was okay. That’s how he preferred his victims. After the hours they’d spent inside the warehouse together, he’d expect nothing else, really.

“You’ve taken up enough of my time tonight,” Emmett accused, because it was his fault. It was always their own fault. He just wanted to take the time to make sure they got what they deserved, every time. He was nothing if not thorough. Holding on by the haft, he spun the ax back and forth in his hand, intentionally careless with it the second it swung remotely near his victim’s leg. The freshly sharpened bit embedded itself in the soft skin, and the man in the chair coughed out a groan, fresh blood seeping out his nose while tears fell from his eyes. “Whoops,” Emmett laughed as he met his clouded gaze. His expression shifted into an overexaggerated pout of pity, though he knew he’d never actually be able to feel sorry for him or any of the others. “Oh, you poor thing,” he cooed, crouching down quickly to crowd him, nudging aside his shattered leg without thought to help himself closer. His victim lurched back as much as he could until both the rope and wooden chair stopped him from moving. Even bent down, Emmett’s intimidating frame towered over him, and he smiled as he stroked a gentle hand down the side of his victim’s face as he shook, dirt speckled sweat beading up along his forehead.

He smiled at his reaction, seeing the fear in his eyes felt like he was injecting something directly into his veins. Emmett assessed him, a little sad at having to leave so soon, but knowing that he still needed time for clean up. He sighed theatrically, swinging the toe of the ax forward again, nicking his victim’s intact leg, just for fun. He knew he didn’t need any goodbyes as he held the handle firmly in both hands, swinging the weapon towards his throat like a baseball bat. It was almost a clean cut, but he’d done better. And in his early days, he’d definitely done worse. His head hung there, held on by threads of tendons and tissue, a shocked expression frozen on his face as a residual tear fell from his eye.

Emmett’s shirt was the first thing to go. It was useless, really, already being drenched in blood to care about it now, but it was part of the routine. Dismembering was always time consuming, but satisfying. He slid his earbuds in, unworried about the bloody fingerprints left behind as he pressed the side button to initiate songplay. A soft pattering filled his ears, along with the quick, friendly uptick of a guitar, followed soon after by bold trumpets. He closed his eyes, letting the upbeat song fill him, move him, a smile spreading hopelessly across his lips. Rivulets of blood dripped down his face and bare chest as he swayed elegantly back and forth as if at a ball, lost in the music. At the crescendo of the chorus, he took his second swing of the ax, slicing cleanly through still warm skin. As promised, he took his hands first, kicking them off to the side as a reminder to burn off the fingerprints once he had finished dismantling the corpse.

He swung the ax again, and again, and again, until his body ached from it. Until the body beneath him ceased to exist. Until he was drenched in the blood of this man who had the audacity to try to touch what he now considered his. The song was on an endless loop, replaying constantly as he worked away at ridding the scene of evidence. After hours, he gathered everything up in barrels, he made his way outside to his dug up kill kit, shuffling through the strewn about items for a rag to wipe his hands. He glanced over at the vats of hydrochloric acid behind him knowing his night wasn’t anywhere close to being done. His blood still hummed in his veins, high from the kill and the lingering scent of amber and vanilla from hours earlier. Closing his eyes, he basked in the break of dawn, listening as the early morning songbirds sweetly welcomed the light of a new day.

[friendofhayley]

Sorry for the wait! I feel like I fell into a pit last month...a Marvel pit, that is. Sorry y'all, but in August all I read and rec was Tony-centric stories! Thank you to all the Team Iron Man writers out there! This fic rec includes 17 fics starring WinterIron, IronStrange, FrostIron, and Misc.

WinterIron

1. Still Waters by @tsuki-chibi | i love this author so much - Tony is a silver fox - why do people stand up for Wanda again? - AU of Ultron - 12k

James didn't know what to think when he stumbled across an older version of Tony Stark who claimed to be from the future. He had no idea that agreeing to help Stark to stop the Scarlet Witch and Quicksilver would change everything.

2. Classic Sci-Fi by @notdoingsohot | Steve is a bad friend, but we knew this - Loki's a bro but not at all - '40's Bucky is cute af - all the feels - 18k

Bucky wakes up to Steve telling him he's lost his memory, but not to panic, it'll only last a few days. Easier said than done when the last thing Bucky remembers is fighting Hydra with the Howlies in WWII.

He tries to make the most of it however, and there's this guy... Tony Stark. It's pretty clear the guy hates Bucky's guts, which is unfortunate because god damn is he a sight.

He tries to figure out what he did to wrong Stark, but everyone just tells him he doesn't want to know.

3. Changing Fate by Wix | time travel - it's technically pre-slash but it's gay - everyone needs a hug - tried but true trope - 27k

Tony dies in Siberia under the hands of Captain America, but fate doesn't leave it there. He opens his eyes several years earlier amidst the threat of Loki's invasion and the first assembling of the 'Avengers'. Tony may not understand why he got this second chance, but he's going to do better with it - and he's decided that he's going to share it. With a Winter Soldier who could really use a different hand than he was dealt.

Never let it be said that fate doesn't have a sense of humor.

WinterStrange

4. List of Questions (Civil War Team Iron Man) series by izumi2 | this series is so fucking good - there are so many things that did not make sense in any universe that this fic fixes - listen, I wouldn't trust Team Captain America with anything - 28+ parts

Unrelated (or not) one shots. You can read separetely or as part of the same 'universe'.

'What if' situations where questions are raised and answered in an AU.

5. Another Way by @respect-tony-stark | this is literally such a slow burn and it's fucking great - this fic is a balm to my soul that never stops giving - Tony has mental illnesses that needs to be treated!! - #teamironman - 85k+

Everyone assumed things started to fall apart during their Civil War, but Tony could tell dynamics were off way before then. It started after Ultron. Tony was trying to hold onto the pieces just as much as everyone else, but maybe the team didn't want to as much as they thought they did. Tony just hoped that Steve and everyone else would get over Ultron.

Then Tony found out about a certain Winter Soldier and December of 1991. Tony wasn't irrational. He'd give Steve a chance to confess, but there were a lot more things wrong with their team than secrets. It was time for Tony to realize that.

6. A Second Chance (To Get It Right) by DobbyRocksSocks | this is what I wish Endgame had been - hindsight is 20/20 and it's delicious - the Steve & Tony interactions hurt - just crying about Aunt Peggy - 22k

Stephen knows there's only one way to win the war against Thanos. Tony wishes he knew what the hell was happening, and just how he's waking up in 2010 with JARVIS telling him the time and date.

7. Poison in My Veins by ArcticVulpix | listen, watching the What If...? episode right after this made me feel justified - JARVIS loves Sir so much - not SHIELD friendly because fuck them - also the reason why I went on a tangent while showing my partner Iron Man 2 - 2k

What if injecting Tony with an unknown chemical during the Palladium poisoning incident had more realistic consequences? After all, they couldn't know what medication Tony was on. And how it would react to their 'cure'.

JARVIS is not happy.

8. ironstrange vs. the rogues series by imposterhuman | feat. some juicy past-Stony - it's just great to see peeps take Tony's side - Rogues didn't realize how much shit Tony put up with to help them not fail as a team - #teamironman - 13+ parts

the rogue avengers return, only, tony isnt alone this time

9. Tony and the Neurosurgeon by ArcticVulpix | part of a great series [Anyone But Steve Rogers] - cw: mind control and sexual harassment - Clint is a bro - protective JARVIS - 10k

JARVIS would only accept the best for sir. So a doctor who can keep up with Tony's banter and with a high enough intelligence to understand him was pretty high up on the list.

FrostIron

10. Tears by Arabesqueangel | dying after getting rejected from soulmate AU - enemies to lovers - Thor: Ragnarok canon-divergent - Jotunn Loki is best Loki - 11k

Thor says they are headed to Earth. Loki is understandably dreading their arrival. It's not just his own actions on Earth the last time that are causing him pause. It's the knowledge that Tony Stark is his soulmate and he can never know... no matter how much it hurts.

11. Things That Are Never Meant by katling | Civil War canon-divergent - Pepper is a BAMF - Wanda is straight-up evil in this one - some people are OOC - 28k

When Tony Stark disappears from Siberia, the aftershocks shatter some people and rebuild others. And when Tony returns, nothing will ever be the same again.

12. Tony and the Trickster by ArcitcVulpix | bless this author for their fics - I just love the way Loki *clenches fist* tricks people - one-sided Stony - people stand up for Tony! - 6k

As usual, it started because Loki was bored.

Is there really any more else to say?

13. The Power of Faith series by Draysmeria | this series! is an epic amazing story - AU from Avengers to Endgame - FrostIron vs. the world - I love the pagan representation - 5 parts

Loki has been Tony's God for a long time and there was nothing Loki could do that would turn Tony away from him, even if he attempted to invade earth. Stronger together than apart they embark on a journey to rid the universe once and for all of their ultimate enemy Thanos. It is not always easy navigating heroes, villains and interpersonal relationships, but with the power of their faith in each other, everything is possible.

14. Proof That DUM-E Knows Exactly What He's Doing (And Why JARVIS Should Stop Bossing Him Around) by NamelesslyNightlock | this is mostly told from the POV of DUM-E - the bots care and love for Tony so much - enemies to strangers to lovers - idiots in love - 14k

When DUM-E touches something he shouldn’t and it makes someone new appear in the workshop, DUM-E doesn’t know why JARVIS gets so worried. Clearly, he and Loki are going to be the best of friends.

Misc.

15. you want a war? (you don't know what you're asking for) by graveltotempo | Pepper and Rhodey are salty - Tony isn't in this story - I love a #teamironman story about consequences - Aunt Peggy - 12k

“And now? Now you’ve all betrayed,”  Steve flinched at the choice of words, “Stark, and Potts and Rhodes are not going to sit and take it.”

Natasha frowned at the phone. “What does this mean for us?”

Fury laughed - an ugly laugh with no myrth in it. “It means that Potts or Rhodes are the ones who sent me this phone because they wanted me to contact you. They wanted me - and you - to know that they are with Stark, that they are the line of defence between him and us.”

16. Tony Stark Defense Squad series by ArcticVulpix - Pepper/Tony - I love seeing the Defenders and Fantastic Four interact with the Avengers! - Carol and Jessica Jones putting Steve back in his place - Aunt Peggy - 20+ parts

Tony has recovered in the year following the Civil War, with his friends' and new team's help. With the Rogues coming back though, those friends aren't going to let them hurt Tony again.

17. From Little Things Big Things Grow by katling | Iron Husbands - this story is super amazing and makes me angry at Steve - Defenders and Fantastic Four are in this too! - hey, Team Cap are assholes - non-canon character death - 32k

In a harsher universe, Tony Stark lets Clint Barton's comment in the Raft slide off him but what would happen if he didn't? What would happen if that comment was the straw that broke the camel's back? What would happen if Tony didn't go to Siberia? If he turned his attention away from the Rogue Avengers and looked towards others to help him protect the world and the universe, even if those others come in strange packages?

[quinncupine]

Yo imagine being in the general class of UA and being recovery girl’s little apprentice/intern and one of the 1A boys constantly getting hurt (whether its on purpose or accidentally ) as an excuse to come visit; I’m imagining todoroki or kaminari because I’m in a mood for those 2 and Deku wouldn’t need to an excuse 🙄

Ha, of course Deku wouldn't need an excuse!🙄 That's his second home at this point. I’ve never written for Kaminari before so this was a fun little experience! Sorry I’m answering this so late, I took a little writing break last week, but now I’m back on the grind! (Also I tried to keep this gender neutral as well!)

Word count: ~2.8K

Wanna request something?

Quinns Masterlist!

Midoriya, Kaminari, and Todoroki with Intern!Reader

Midoriya

"Midoriya, Midoriya, Midoriya," a soft voice sighed in mock exasperation. "How did I know I would find you here yet again."

Izuku flinched and looked up from his spot on the bed to see you casually leaning against the doorframe. That signature white lab coat draped over your form suited you perfectly. You looked like a real doctor standing there with the little clipboard tucked neatly into your waist and that warm smile radiating off you. To say that your smile had an effect on him was an understatement.

"Uh," he chuckled with a nervous smile, "sorry, I know I was just here yesterday."

"Yesterday? Midoriya, you've been here every day this week." Hopping off the door frame, you crossed your arms. "Do you wanna see me that bad?"

It was only a joke, but his face flushed a bright crimson at your words. Suddenly, every spot other than you seemed much more interesting to stare at, so he didn't catch that smirk lighting up your face as you stepped into the room.

A quick flip through the probably too many pages in his chart that he'd racked up this year alone, "So, what's it this time?"

"Just a sprained wrist," he held up said wrist. "I thought it was fine, but then it started to swell so I, uh, thought I should come here…just in case."

"And how did it happen?" you set the chart down and pulled the little wheeled stool to sit in front of him. With gentle fingers, you prodded the bruised skin.

At your touch, he stiffened. You were so close, eyes solely focused on his wrist. While you were examining him, he took the opportunity to stare at you with those giant green eyes of his, cataloging every inch of your face. When you began your internship with Recovery Girl, he was shocked the first time he walked in here to see you instead of the older woman. Not that he was complaining. You were way more amiable with him and although you didn't appreciate him injuring himself so much, he'd come to quite like these little meetings with just the two of you.

"Lucky for you, it's not too bad," you decided, looking up to meet his deer-eyed gaze. One which he promptly looked away from. "Ice it for twenty minutes a few times today and the swelling should go down. I'll get you a compression bandage." When you stood up to root through the doors for the bandage, you glanced back at him. "What'd you do, punch a brick wall?"

"Concrete actually," he stuttered out. "I missed my opponent, couldn't stop my follow-through in time."

The power he held always amazed you, but you were always the one to see the after-effects during training. He was strong to a point of recklessness. Something he really needed to work on. Finally finding the bandages, you walked back to your stool.

"Well, I hope you kicked that wall's ass then." Grabbing his hand, you locked eyes with him, "just don't overdo it too much. You only have two hands so try and keep them for at least a few more years yeah?"

Izuku was only half-listening, too entranced by your touch to keep up with the conversation. As you carefully wrapped his wrist, he sat back, taking the time to take in your image. This was really the only time he ever got to see you. The support department was on the opposite side of campus and those classes rarely ever teamed up. Besides, you were part of the relief support courses, not tactical, which meant the two of you would never train together while here. And while you were great at this part, patching him up right quick, and sending him on his way, he couldn't help but wish you were slower. All he wanted was to just sit here forever with you, injuries be damned.

"Right then, here we are," Straightening up, you finished wrapping the limb, and with a double check to make sure everything was in order, you smiled up at him. "You know, I should start charging each time you come in here. I bet you'd be able to cover this entire department's budget in a week.

"Oh, you think so?" the way he cocked his head, that cute little innocent widening of his eyes seemed to inject serotonin straight into your veins. The boy was just too adorable for his own good and he didn't even know it. "Sorry, I don't mean to be a bother."

"A bother? You?" An airy laugh blew past your lips. "My day would be so boring if I didn't have my favorite patient to keep me company." He tried his best to hide that all too obvious blush creeping up his neck. "Although, I could do without all the injuries you seem to be racking up."

Izuku turned his focus to the newly wrapped wrist, biting on his lower lip. He couldn't even bring himself to look at you or he might combust on the spot. When you left his side to go wash your hands, he finally sneaked a peek. Now that you were done, he was going to have to leave. He didn't want to leave. He liked being here with you. For whatever reason, anytime you were near him, his heart raced and he felt lightheaded, but also a million times better, even with whatever injuries he was sporting. If he didn't already know your quirk, he would've thought you had the ability to heal with just a simple smile. You were an adrenaline boost he always looked forward to.

"You're not always here, right?" the words left his mouth before he even realized he said them aloud. "I, uh, I mean, you do other things outside the recovery ward?"

"Sure," you shrugged, drying your hands. "You're not always training, right?" With a pause you shook your head, "wait, don't answer that. I think I already know that answer." Casting a smirk at him, he looked down at his shoes, a smile of his own taking root. "I'll have you know I do do other things besides patching up one Mr. Broken Bones Midoriya."

"Oh yeah, of course, you do!" he tripped over the words as they spilled from his mouth. "I just mean that your really cool and stuff but I never really see you other than here and I know the campus is big, but I just thought that maybe you, or I, or, or…uh…" he was running out of gas and confidence so he decided to abandon ship and jump to his feet, intent on escaping this sinking boat. "Um, anyway, thanks for the uh-thanks for this!" Waving his wrist, he made for the exit but before he could make his hasty getaway, you stepped in front of him.

"Geez Midoriya, calm down," it was like trying to corral a frantic bunny. The boy's eyes were darting all over the place, probably looking for a different escape route. "Tell ya what, when that wrist heals up and if you don't get any more injuries before the weekend, let's see if we can change not seeing each other around."

Izuku froze, the words processing in his mind a few times before they finally clicked. "You mean like a-a…"

"Just try not to get hurt for at least a few days? You placed a hand on his shoulder and lead him towards the door. "Think you can manage that?"

He'd never been so motivated to stay this healthy before. A furious nod and you sent him off with a wink. When the door closed, he slumped against the wall outside, bandaged wrist against his chest, trying to stop the mini horse race trampling through his chest. What he didn't know was that you were on the opposite side of that door, one hand to your own chest, the other trying to combat the heat on your cheeks. You'd been working up the courage to do that all week because god knows when Midoriya would ever find the courage to do it. An all too excited squeal rushed out of your mouth before you could stop it. This was going to be an interesting week.

 KAMINARI

You could hear the babbling from down the hall before you saw him. That stupid deep-fried laugh was synonymous with one person and one person only. Dropping the pen and whirling around in your chair, you leaned your elbow on the armrest as two of the school's med bots ushered Denki in. Thumbs up and that dopey smile plastered on his face had you trying your best to contain the giggle building in your throat.

"Well, look what the cat dragged in," you smirked at the blonde who'd been sat on one of the beds. "Go over your limit again Kaminari?"

"Yay…" he mumbled and fell back on the bed with a groan.

It wasn't the first time he'd come in with a fried brain and if there was one thing you knew about him, it wouldn't be the last. The good thing is he usually just needed to sleep it off for a bit. But being the ever diligent medical intern, you came over to check him over.

Denki laid sprawled out on the bed, hands finally giving out and falling to his side. After a quick examination, he appeared to be in working order, just needed a bit of a recharge, so you returned to your paperwork and let him be.

A half-hour later, he sat up with a loud groan, rubbing his head, "Uh, that majorly sucked."

"Ah, so sleeping beauty finally rises," you didn't even turn to him but still felt that charming smile bounce off your back.

"You really think I'm a beauty?" he grinned, standing up to stretch. "You know I'm still pretty sore, I could always get back in bed and we can see if a kiss will make me feel better."

"Tell me," a playful tug on your lips as you twirled in your chair to face him, "do any of those lines ever work?"

"That's for you to answer and for me to find out."

"Sorry to disappoint bud, but I don't think you're gonna like my answer." Satisfied with his little pout, you turned back to continue your work. "You're fine Kaminari, you can go back to class now."

"Aww, but being here with you is so much better," he trudged over to your desk and leaned on the back of the chair. "Can't you write me a doctor's note so I can stay here with your beautiful face for the rest of the day?"

"And what would you even want to do here with me for the rest of the day, hmm?" you hadn't meant it to sound like an innuendo, but judging from his flushed expression, he'd taken it that way.

"Don't tell me you're interested in the medical field now?" it was your attempt to gain control of the conversation again. "And after all that hard hero training you do."

"Uh, I…" a small spark shot between his hands as he tried to think of something to say. You must've really thrown him off this time, although that isn't very hard to do. After a few moments of fidgeting, he deflated and dropped his head. "All right, I'll go back to class."

"Aww come now, don't look so down," you laughed, leaning back in your chair. "I'm sure Mr. Aizawa is much more fun than I am."

"Yeah, if you think torture is fun," he pulled his hair with a whine and slogged towards the door. When he reached for the handle, he paused and glanced back at you with a forlorn look. "Not even a kiss for the road?"

"Hmm," tapping your chin with the pen, you smirked, "maybe if you come up with a less cheesy pick-up line, then I might be more inclined."

That perked him up more than any jolt of electricity could do. "Well you're in luck babe, I've got plenty of 'em!"

"Let's hear it then, I'm all ears."

"Okay, okay…" he scrunched his face and crossed his arms. You could practically see the gears turning as he thought it through. "Damn," he spoke after a moment, trying to hide his smirk, "you're so beautiful you made me forget my pick-up line."

You chucked the pen at him with a snort, which he narrowly dodged, hopping halfway out the door in the process. "Oh my god Kaminari, I said less cheesy, get out of here!"

That dorky grin back on his face, he held up his hands. "Fine, but don't think I'm finished here. I will find one that works." With a wave, he disappeared, yelling through the door, "mark my words!"

TODOROKI

Honestly, the scrape wasn't even that bad or that deep, but he still found himself marching towards Recovery girls office in hopes he'd find you there. Ever since you became her intern, he seemed to find himself injured more and more frequently…by total accident of course.

"Oh, Todoroki," you smiled as he walked in. "What brings you in today?"

"I injured my arm during training today," he said flatly, holding the appendage up. There was a sizable gash under what looked like scorch marks. "I thought it best to get it checked out."

"Geez, who were you fighting this time?"

"Bakugo," with a shrug, he glanced at his arm.

"Well, that makes sense," you waved him to one of the beds, "come on, let's have a look then."

Silently, he sat down on the examination bed, the stiff paper ruffling as he scooted back slightly when you approached. His whole body was stiff, eyes staring everywhere but your face. It didn't look much different from his usual self, but internally, he was having a slight meltdown from your mere proximity alone.

Sliding the stool over, you sat down and twisted his left arm back and forth to get a good look, muttering a few things before giving it back. "the cuts shallow which means no stitches, so that's good. Should heal on its own in a few days. I'll just clean it and wrap it, then you're good to go."

"Oh," the word unintentionally slipped out.

When you looked up at him, you noticed the tiniest of pouts forming on his lips. "Unless something else is wrong?"

"No!" he said a little too quickly.

Something else was definitely wrong. Throwing him a quizzical look, you headed for the drawers that held your supplies. "That's good I suppose," you said lightly, "It seems like I've been seeing you almost every day this week alone."

"Sorry," he muttered.

"I didn't say I was complaining," with a grin, you sat back in front of him with sterilizing pads and gauze.

Those words alone were enough for his left side to flare up. When your fingers touched his arm to clean the wound, you flinched away.

"Uh, hey Todoroki," you cocked your head, trying to maintain that professional demeanor Recovery Girl kept pestering you about (although the old woman should take her own advice) and not crack a smile. When his eyes finally met your own, you pointed to his arm, raising a brow. "Might wanna tone down the heat there."

He blinked. Then blinked again before realizing what the problem was. His cheeks flushed almost the same color as his hair and turned his head in embarrassment, rasping out a quiet apology.

"Are you sure everything's okay?" dapping the wound after the skin cooled down, your eyes wandered up to his. "You seem a little worked up."

"Something like that," he mumbled, watching your hands delicately work, using that as a distraction to keep from staring at your face. The same face he could easily find himself lost in if he gave himself the chance. So he decided to change the subject. "It's quiet here." Yeah, way to go, man, real insightful.

"Yeah, Recovery Girl gives me the quietest shifts until I gain enough experience." Once the soot was cleaned off, you grabbed the gauze. "You don't always have to be injured to come visit me, you know." Sparing a quick glance up at him, you started wrapping the limb. "I wouldn't mind the company."

"Am I even allowed in here without an excuse?" It was just a curious question but your frown caught him off-guard, wondering if he said something wrong.

"Couldn't hurt to find out," you mumbled, "I mean we are in an infirmary." Tying off the gauze, you patted just below the cut with a small smile. "Okay, you're all patched up. You're free to go."

"Does it have to be here?" Shoto suddenly stood up, eyes meeting your own.

"What?"

"You said you wouldn't mind the company," he furrowed his brow. "Does it have to be here?"

"Well, no, I was just saying…wait, you wanna see me outside of here?" you gestured around the room, a little baffled.

He nodded, looking less confident by the minute. "If that's alright with you."

The smile that lit up your face was brighter than any flames Shoto could ever hope to produce. "It's more than alright with me."

...

taglist: @dorki-time @awilddreamerwrites @peachsenpie @thecindy @miriobaby @kiyoobi @dragonsdreamoffire @amive2567

[a-slice-of-cate]

Death Do Us Part {4}

part 1 part 2 part 3

Hero screamed bloody murder as the needle pushed deeper and deeper into their arm. The liquid from the needle felt hot as it flowed through their body- dark blue and black veins appeared from the injection site.

“It’s almost over,” Supervillain ran his calloused hand over Hero’s sweating forehead and injected more of the painful liquid. “Shh…”

Tears ran down Hero’s face, blood dripped from their nose and cuts battered their once soft, young skin. “I can’t,” they breathed. Hero saw black spots dot the corners of their vision. “Please, Sir,”

Supervillain sighed and only pushed the needle in deeper. Hero’s vision clouded over and they were taken over by darkness.

When Hero woke up, they were still surrounded by darkness. Laughter erupted around them almost like it was in their head.

“You’re awake,” Supervillain said over the God Speaker, “Your goal is to survive. You will find that our newest session will help you with that.”

With that, the God Speaker cut out and a low growl was sound from behind them. Hero slowly turned around with a look of dread and fear. A tall black figure loomed over them. A dark force fell over Hero and they felt their body move on its own, fighting off the demon.

Whatever Supervillain had pumped Hero with burned like a son of a bitch through their veins. Hero hissed anytime they used their newfound powers but they kept pushing in order to survive.

For what felt like hours, Hero fought and killed every monster that came their way. By the time they were done, they stood there, chest heaving, hair disheveled, and their skin stained red. The blood of their enemies drenched their figure.

“I’ve done what you asked!” they screamed into the air. “Now let me out, you sick son of a bitch!”

Villain sat there, starting to get a chill from the cold night. As Hero told them the stories of their childhood, Villain couldn’t help but find a sense of familiarity.

The events that Hero described were a lot like the ones they went through growing up as well. However, since they both grew up on the same part of town, it’s very possible that everyone around the woods were treated that way.

“I did that for so long,” Hero explained. “I let him do that to me for years! Years of torture, of injections, of false power pumped into me,” Hero frowned and fumbled with their fingers. “I’m sorry,” they said. “I don’t mean to dump all of this on you.”

Villain watched Hero closely. They’ve known Hero most of their life and not once have they seen this vulnerability show. Hero always seemed like this head strong, superhero that never faltered or failed. Villain didn’t know what to say or physically respond with so they settled with a small nod. 

“Life is pretty shitty, ain’t it?” 

Hero sniffed and wiped their nose, a human instinct that they had forgotten they don’t need to use anymore.

“I guess so,” they held their hands in their laps before taking a deep breath. “Why do you hate me?” Hero’s voice was suddenly more solemn and distant.

Villain blinked and gently scooted closer to Hero. “Hate you? I never hated you, Hero.” They said looking out over the city. “Never.”

Hero closed their eyes before speaking again. “But you do. You shut me out, you snap at me, hell here I am— a poltergeist or some shit.”

The h/c {gender} sighed and hung their head. “I envied you,” Villain began. “All my life, I’ve always felt like you were better than me, so I vowed to out do you.”

Hero felt their non beating heart tighten.

“I wanted to be you,” Villain groaned. “I wanted the glory and the praise, I wanted the money and to feel like I’ve done good for the world.” Villain rambled on. “But then I realized that’s not where fate was taking me. I wasn’t meant to be the Hero for this story. We are opposites, Hero,” Villain cleared their throat. “But when we get you back to normal, I wanna be your equal. I want to fight you as if it’s us messing around.”

Hero looked at Villain and they felt beat rise in their cheeks.

“Okay,” Hero breathed out. “Just so you know,” they looked down at their lap. “I never hated you either. In fact I envied you.”

Both Hero and Villain burst out laughing. Hero explained how corrupt and deceitful the Hero Society was.

“It’s not all it’s cracked up to be, trust me,” Hero ran a hand through their hair. They noticed the slight yawn that Villain tried to hide. “Hey, go get some sleep. I’ll be okay.”

Villain stood up but instead of walking the other way, they held their hand down to Hero. “I know you don’t sleep anymore, but could you…” Villain couldn’t find the words.

Hero chuckled before taking their hand and standing up. “Sure,”

Villain turned their fade away so Hero wouldn’t see the blush that grew across their cheeks.

The rest of the night, Villain had their head rested on Hero’s chest, arms wrapped around their torso, holding them close.

Hero let their fingers run through Villain’s hair, lightly running them up and down the back of their neck before returning them back to their hair. Hero repeated this motion until Villain eventually fell asleep.

Hero smiled at the sight. As Villain slept, they looked so mundane. With a simple T-shirt and sweatpants and their features soft, not hard with the burdens of the world.

Hero let their fingers glide over Villains cheek, ghosting over their features with cold fingers.

It made sense why Hero’s spirt was attached to Villain, which made them a poltergeist. One: they died by the hands of Villain. Two: Hero knew now deeply Villain really cared for them. After what happened on the roof, Hero could sense the gentle feelings Villain felt for them.

“I forgive you,” Hero placed a cold kiss to Villains forehead before resting their head back on the pillows and pretending to sleep, maybe giving the effect as if they were actually sleeping.

***

Hero tumbled down the alleyway. After several blows to the abdomen and face, Hero felt their energy and adrenaline begin to fade.

It was a struggle getting up. Their arms were shaky and their breathing had gone rigid.

“Villain! Stop!” They yelled but Villains fist collided with Hero’s chin once again.

Fire burned behind their eyes. They were under Supervillains ruling and this is what Supervillain wanted.

“If you want me ti stop, you’re going to have to kill me!” Villain went to throw another punch but Hero used all their strength to block the blow.

It would’ve saved them if this were a regular fight.

However, Hero’s vision turned white as a searing pain bloomed in their side.

Hero couldn’t even cry out in pain because Villian’s lips entrapped theirs to hush them.

Soft whimpers left Hero’s lips as Villain kissed their pain away. Villain and slowly pulled the blade out, slowly.

“Shh,” Villain rested their forehead against Hero’s. “It’s going to be okay, Love. It’s going to be okay.” They pet down Hero’s hair as a single tear fell from their eye.

Hero gave one more soft whimper before their shaking body stilled and their chest settled with one last breath.

[bamf-jaskier]

What the fuck are the Trials

Since the show is based on the books and not the games, and more people are more familiar with the games that the books, I thought it might be helpful to sort of officialize the posts I’ve done about specific topics in the books. 

Here are the previous posts on Triss&Geralt as well as Coën

TLDR: So looking at this process, according to the books the way a Witcher becomes, well a Witcher looks like this:

There is the Choice which is the decision to become a Witcher made when you are a child

Eat a lot of magic mushrooms that give you the strength and ability Witchers are known for

Then the Trial of the Grasses which is a concoction of mutagenic elixirs injected into the bloodstream which mutates you into a Witcher

Then finally there are the Changes. This is a big step and one that requires a mage. This is when the hormones are changed and a Witcher becomes permanently sterile

then there is training until you earn your medallion and BOOM, out onto the path with you

Now, have a post about what the trials are as far as the books are concerned

It’s important to note that in the books, The Witcher are a dying breed so the Trials are really only mentioned in Blood of Elves when Ciri trains with the Witchers and the two prequels, Sword of Destiny and The Last Wish. 

Let’s start out with the basics of the Trials, here is a passage from Blood of Elves where Triss is wondering why the Witchers at Kaer Morhen are being so secretive in regards to Ciri:

“It’s obvious. They want to mutate the child, subject her to the Trial of Grasses and Changes, but they don’t know how to do it. Vesemir was the only witcher left from the previous generation, and he was only a fencing instructor. The Laboratorium, hidden in the vaults of Kaer Morhen, with its dusty demi-johns of elixirs, the alembics, ovens and retorts… 

None of the witchers knew how to use them. The mutagenic elixirs had been concocted by some renegade wizard in the distant past and then perfected over the years by the wizard’s successors, who had, over the years, magically controlled the process of Changes to which children were subjected. And at a vital moment the chain had snapped. 

There was no more magical knowledge or power. The witchers had the herbs and Grasses, they had the Laboratorium. They knew the recipe. But they had no wizard.”

Later:

“And now they want to mutate the girl but can’t. And that might mean… They may ask me to help. And then I’ll see something no living wizard has seen, I’ll learn something no living wizard has learned. Their famous Grasses and herbs, the secret virus cultures, the renowned, mysterious recipes…”

Now, what Triss doesn’t realize is that Geralt and the others are not planning on subjecting Ciri to the trials at all but are instead trying to hide Ciri’s magical ability from Triss. They are worried she will report them to the Chapter. 

Of course, until they tell Triss this, she is deeply suspicious and goes on to talk about the mushrooms Witchers have access to which are extremely unique. 

“Of course, thought Triss. They’re feeding her those legendary cave saprophytes – a mountain plant unknown to science – giving her the famous infusions of their mysterious herbs to drink. The girl is developing quickly, is acquiring a witcher’s infernal fitness. Naturally, without the mutation, without the risk, without the hormonal upheaval. But the magician must not know this. It is to be kept a secret from the magician. They aren’t going to tell me anything; they aren’t going to show me anything.”

Later:

“I don’t give a fig for your trust, witchers. There’s cancer out there in the world, smallpox, tetanus and leukaemia, there are allergies, there’s cot death. And you’re keeping your “mushrooms”, which could perhaps be distilled and turned into life-saving medicines, hidden away from the world. You’re keeping them a secret even from me, and others to whom you declare your friendship, respect and trust. Even I’m forbidden to see not just the Laboratorium, but even the bloody mushrooms!”

Triss as a mage has extreme bias against the Trials and for good reason! Most of the populace doesn’t have access to any information on the Trials outside of vague ideas but Mages have access to first hand accounts such as this from Blood of Elves: 

“On the third day all the children died save one, a male barely ten. Hitherto agitated by a sudden madness, he fell all at once into deep stupor. His eyes took on a glassy gaze; incessantly with his hands did he clutch at clothing, or brandish them in the air as if desirous of catching a quill. His breathing grew loud and hoarse; sweat cold, clammy and malodorous appeared on his skin. Then was he once more given elixir through the vein and the seizure it did return. This time a nose-bleed did ensue, coughing turned to vomiting, after which the male weakened entirely and became inert.

For two days more did symptoms not subside. The child’s skin, hitherto drenched in sweat, grew dry and hot, the pulse ceased to be full and firm – albeit remaining of average strength, slow rather than fast. No more did he wake, nor did he scream.

Finally, came the seventh day. The male awoke and opened his eyes, and his eyes were as those of a viper…”

~Carla Demetia Crest, The Trial of Grasses and other secret Witcher practices, seen with my own eyes, manuscript exclusively accessible to the Chapter of Wizards

When most people think of the Trials, they are thinking similarly to Queen Calanthe in Sword of Destiny. 

Here is what Calanthe says to Geralt when talking about what he might do with his child surprise: 

“You are astonished,’ she stated. ‘Well, I’ve studied a little. Since Pavetta’s child has the chance of becoming a witcher, I went to great pains. My sources, Geralt, reveal nothing, however, regarding how many children in ten withstand the Trial of the Grasses. Would you like to satisfy my curiosity in this regard?’

‘O Queen,’ Geralt said, clearing his throat. ‘You certainly went to sufficient pains in your studies to know that the code and my oath forbid me from even uttering that name, much less discussing it.’

Calanthe stopped the swing abruptly by jabbing a heel into the ground. ‘Three, at most four in ten,’ she said, nodding her head in feigned pensiveness. 

‘A stringent selection, very stringent, I’d say, and at every stage. First the Choice and then the Trials. And then the Changes. How many youngsters ultimately receive medallions and silver swords? One in ten? One in twenty?”

Later Calanthe asks Geralt:

“Do you believe a Child of Destiny would pass through the Trials without danger?’

‘We believe such a child would not require the Trials.’

‘One question, Geralt. Quite a personal one. May I?’

He nodded.

‘There is no better way to pass on hereditary traits than the natural way, as we know. You went through the Trials and survived. So if you need a child with special qualities and endurance… Why don’t you find a woman who… I’m tactless, aren’t I? But I think I’ve guessed, haven’t I?’

‘As usual,’ he said, smiling sadly, ‘you are correct in your deductions, Calanthe. You guessed right, of course. What you’re suggesting is impossible for me.’

‘Forgive me,’ she said, and the smile vanished from her face. ‘Oh, well, it’s a human thing.’

‘It isn’t human.’

‘Ah… So, no witcher can—’

‘No, none. The Trial of the Grasses, Calanthe, is dreadful. And what is done to boys during the time of the Changes is even worse. And irreversible.”

Later:

“The risks are too great,’ Geralt said quickly. ‘As you said. At most, four out of ten survive.’

‘Dammit, is only the Trial of the Grasses hazardous? Do only potential witchers take risks? Life is full of hazards, selection also occurs in life, Geralt. Misfortune, sicknesses and wars also select. Defying destiny may be just as hazardous as succumbing to it. Geralt… I would give you the child. But… I’m afraid, too.’

Then in The Last Wish, Geralt describes his own experiences with The Trials:

“Kaer Morhen…That's where the likes of me were produced. It's not done anymore; no one lives in Kaer Morhen now. No one but Vesemir. Who's Vesemir? My father. Why are you so surprised? What's so strange about it? Everyone's got a father, and mine is Vesemir. And so what if he's not my real father? I didn't know him, or my mother. I don't even know if they're still alive, and I don't much care.

“Yes, Kaer Morhen. I underwent the usual mutation there, through the Trial of Grasses, and then hormones, herbs, viral infections. And then through them all again. And again, to the bitter end. Apparently, I took the changes unusually well; I was only ill briefly. I was considered to be an exceptionally resilient brat…and was chosen for more complicated experiments as a result. They were worse. Much worse. But, as you see, I survived. The only one to live out of all those chosen for further trials. My hair's been white ever since. Total loss of pigmentation. A side effect, as they say. A trifle.

“Then they taught me various things until the day when I left Kaer Morhen and took to the road. I’d earned my medallion, the Sign of the Wolf's School. I had two swords: silver and iron, and my conviction, enthusiasm, incentive and…faith. Faith that I was needed in a world full of monsters and beasts, to protect the innocent. As I left Kaer Morhen, I dreamed of meeting my first monster. I couldn't wait to stand eye to eye with him. And the moment arrived.”

So looking at this process, according to the books the way a Witcher becomes, well a Witcher looks like this:

There is the Choice which is the decision to become a Witcher made when you are a child

Eat a lot of magic mushrooms that give you the strength and ability Witchers are known for 

Then the Trial of the Grasses which is a concoction of mutagenic elixirs injected into the bloodstream which mutates you into a Witcher 

Then finally there are the Changes. This is a big step and one that requires a mage. This is when the hormones are changed and a Witcher becomes permanently sterile

then there is training until you earn your medallion and BOOM, out onto the path with you

This is why it’s such a big deal that Triss was brought to Kaer Morhen. Without a mage, someone cannot become a full Witcher and Triss believed that was why she was there. Of course, this wasn’t true but it’s a valid concern to have. 

One thing I want to note, there is absolutely NOTHING in the text that says that being a Witcher is limited to any sort of gender boundary. The fact that Triss so readily jumped to Ciri becoming a Witcher and the fact that Geralt didn’t specify  boys until he was talking about the sterilization process...well, there is a likelihood female Witchers actually existed. 

Again, in the books Witchers are a dying breed and you can literally count on one hand the number of Witchers we meet. Of course, considering mages are the ones who made Witchers, it makes sense that female Witchers are either strongly discouraged, banned or simply not talked about. 

One big point Triss has against Ciri’s training is that she won’t “develop” correctly like a woman “should” due to the mushrooms and harsh training and considering how so many northern mages place importance on beauty I could definitely see mages not wanting to have female Witchers, considering it a “perversion”. 

Just a fun thought I often have about the books that I haven’t seen anyone point out. 

So overall, here is what the books have to say about the Trials, it’s a touch different from the games but I find this very fascinating and interesting. Let me know if you want me to do a specific topic or relationship next, but for now, thanks for reading!

[thesunshinebunny]

When the world falls apart, the only thing we can hold onto is ourselves (Part I)

Series Master list

Pairing: Canon Eren Jaeger x reader

Content: Angst, unstable relationship, breakup, smut/nswf+18, major character death, violence, blood (obviously), war (pretty obvious)

Summary: War and hate. It’s what defined the world at this exact moment. You failed your comrades, and by failing them, you failed yourself. Your relationship is hanging by a thread and your enemies will not only be found on the other side of the sea, but also in the mind of the person you love the most. How will you take the reins in the face of so much destruction?

Chapter Summary: After watching their teammates die in battle, reader begins to question their sanity and of their so-called partner.

AN: let me say goodbye to my favorite girl, who got me the best laughs and relieved my anxiety while reading manga chapters. At the same time, let me succumb to the misery and enlarge the wound with an canon Eren. I won’t be against following this fic if I see that a lot of people like it, but my list of fandoms isn’t going to change, this will be a unique exception.

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

The chill in the air from the airship rushed through my veins. Less than two hours ago, I had seen countless comrades die, each one of them struck by bullets in different parts of their bodys or eaten by a Titan. I had seen countless lives fall and had been unable to save any. I knew we were going on a suicide mission, but deep down inside of me, I hoped we would all come home alive.

I was very naïve to think of a happy ending in this rotten and violent world.

Inside the room I was in, my mind wandered looking through one of the few windows this war machine gave us. I wasn't paying attention to what Levi or Eren were saying, I didn't even have the slightest intention of asking why Zeke was with us. Although being a member of the Survey Corps and a direct and in training medic, I was not fully informed of the missions. Eren’s courtesy.

Bored and mentally tired, I left the room where my leaders were having a heated discussion with "humanity's last hope." I didn't have the strength to add more charcoal to the fire, but trust me when I tell you I wasn’t at all happy with Eren's plan, simply and exclusively because I was completely unaware.

I walked down the hall making a mental note to kick the brunette in the face like Levi did when we got back. If my so-called partner, who had the decency to slowly push me away over the last year without explanation, wasn’t confident enough to tell me whatever was going on in his mind, then we would be in front of the doors of a serious conversation back home.

I opened the door where the scouts were when I heard a rifle go off. My eyes went wide and fear washed over me. I instantly scanned my body for wounds, completely ignoring the situation happening in front of me. Finding no sign of impact, I looked up only to find Sasha falling on her back, with a bullet impact on her chest.

The world seemed to have frozen as did my body. No one was able to move. Blood was spreading around Sasha's body, staining the floor, and that's when I reacted. My body moved on its own, pulling the cloak off my shoulders and folding it to make a small pillow. My ears didn’t catch any screams or cries from my teammates, as if I was underwater and the only thing I could hear was my heartbeat accelerating, threatening to come out of my ears.

"I need a syringe with anesthesia, a pair of tweezers, a needle, a lighter, bandages and hot water, NOW !!"

No one was moving, everyone was in shock, including me, but I was layered enough to know that if we didn't do something, Sasha wasn't going to survive.

"Jean, Connie, I need surgical elementes! NOW!!"

The two boys came out of it, running around the room, even going to the continuous, looking for something that might serve, while I tore Sasha's shirt and took her equipment. Mikasa was next to me grabbing the pieces that were in the way.

"Mikasa, I need you to put pressure on the wound and don’t move your hands"

Connie came running back with the anesthesia in hand, trying to give it to me, but me failing. The syringe fell to the floor, but thanks to whatever deity was watching us it didn't break. My hands were shaking with adrenaline, making it impossible for me to inject the needle into the glass vial.

“Sasha… I need you to stay awake, ok? I need you to keep your eyes open at all time"

The dying girl in front of me didn't give me an answer, but I knew she heard me. In the background, I could hear the desperate cries of the others, apart from the fact that someone had hit the culprit in the face. I injected the anesthesia and proceeded to remove the bullet from the lung. Mikasa reapplied pressure with wet cloths.

"Sasha everything will be fine, I assure you, everything will be fine, so don't you dare die on me, okay?"

I couldn't tell who I was addressing those words to, the girl who gave us the best laughs in our training days, or me.

Lighter in hand I proceeded to cauterize the wound, but my eyes fell on Sasha's, noticing how the life had left her eyes. The light that was so bright in her pupils had faded, leaving nothing more than an empty countenance.

"Sasha?...Sasha? hey, this isn’t funny, Sasha wake up…Sasha?? SASHA?!!?!" ...

"SASHA!!!"

Again.

Again I’d been unable to do anything.

Again I’d to see how I was unable to save someone.

Again.

I had seen a mate die. Again.

My chest contracted, the air was impossible to get in or out and my lungs cried out to explode. My stomach wanted to regurgitate, but there was nothing in it, causing me to spasm. My vocal cords were damaged from screaming and my head was about to collapse.

My whole body was about to collapse.

"How dare you!? You son of a bitch, how dare you to shoot the person who forgave your life?"

My anger was now directed at the child they had wanted to bring with us. It was impossible for me to look at her without having the desire to break her face, to make her suffer ... to kill her. To take revenge for Sasha.

“SHE FORGAVE YOUR LIFE BY NOT GIVING YOU A SHOT IN THE HEAD AND IS THAT HOW YOU PAY HER? YOU HATE US SO MUCH? HOW MANY MORE LIVES DO YOU WANT TO TAKE FOR US TO BE SATISFIED?"

My legs got up, leading me towards the girl, but arms held me from behind, preventing me from continue walking, preventing me from taking revenge.

"HOW DARE YOU? HOW DARE YOU? YOU ARE THE REAL DEVILS"

In the end, my body collapsed, completely loosening and causing me to almost slide down Connie's arms. I fell to my knees when he released me, snuggling up and hiding my head in my arms. Tears flowed like waterfalls with no intention of stopping and my screams reverberated across the metal in the room.

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

Connie opened the door where our commanders were still arguing. Both with tears in our eyes gave the worst news of the night.

"Sasha died"

Jean and Hange's faces were disfigured and Levi hid his grim outline from us. The room was silent, but all that could be heard were my sobs, spasm after spasm.

"She had a ... a bullet impact ... in ... in the chest ..."

It was difficult, almost impossible, for me to relate the precarious medical report of our friend's death, trying to help me with the movement of my hands ... but even so the spasms won me over. I fell back to the floor, tears invaded my face once more and my ability to articulate words was gone down the drain.

Hange approached with a slow step and placed their hands on my shoulders, giving me the help I needed to give the report. I took several minutes of deep breaths and when my lungs returned to normal, I spoke again.

"Sasha had a bullet impact on the chest, on the left lung ... There was no exit, so the bullet was stuck in there...it pierced two ribs, tearing the skin of the lung and causing internal bleeding... I managd to remove the bullet, but I didn't have time to cauterize and sew the wound ... she bled to death"

Every pause I took to breathe made it so much worse for me to speak back. If it weren't for the fact I was undoubtedly taking deep breaths, I would have passed out from distress and hyperventilation.

"I could have saved her ... I know I could have saved her"

Silence reigned over the room, sobs from Hange and Connie could be heard if we were paying close attention. Jean and Levi glared at Eren, who had not deigned to lift his head at any time.

I got up as best I could, running Hange's hands gently, and left the room once again. I needed to be alone for a while, I needed to let go of these horrible feelings, I needed some air, otherwise I doubted I’d do anything rational in the state I was in.

My legs led me to a room away from all the common ones. It was empty, but it had a couple of windows that chilled the already cold metal walls. Some windows were at my height, allowing me to appreciate the view from the air, but let's face it, it was impossible to appreciate the landscape when your mind and heart were breaking to pieces. The only thing that kept my mind intact from any collapse was the path of smoke and fire that could be seen in the distance... signs that Marley was still on fire.

"Are you ok?"

That familiar voice, all too familiar, echoed in my ears pulling me out of my entrance. Eren had entered the room quietly with the aim of… what? See if it was okay? Because I really wasn't, it showed on my face and that's what made me even more angry than I was.

"Oh, I don't know? Am I ok? Do I FUCKING LOOK OK TO YOU?"

I turned from the window too quickly causing me to stagger and fall to the floor. My head was spinning and starting to ache as was every muscle in my body. I put my hands to my head, hoping the pain would dissipate a bit, but the only thing I managed was to sink further into misery.

"I could have saved her ... if I’d been faster ... I know I could have saved her"

He hadn't moved from where he was, he just stayed there, looking at me. My blood-soaked eyes looked him up and down searching for something, whatever, to speak of, but all I found were non-glare eyes and a neutral gaze, as if he hadn't cared how many lives this mission had claimed.

"Do you want to know how I feel? Fine, I’ll tell you"

I stood up heavily, my muscles begging for a break. I turned my head to see the black smoke rising on the horizon, still clearly noticing an orange and red flare.

“I am tired…I am full of rage and hate. I saw our comrades die and I couldn't do anything, I was unable to save them ... to save Sasha...and all because of not having been informed like everyone else"

My eyes hadn't left the window because I knew, if I looked into those dull turquoise eyes, those same eyes that once shone with all the innocence and life that a young man could have, I would end up punching him.

"Are you happy? Did you accomplished your mission now that you have the power of the warhammer titan? What will be the next step? Go back to Marley in a few months, finish what you started and devour the jaw titan and Reiner? Assassinate the cart titan?”

Again, I got no response. My patience had already reached it’s limit and I looked back at the man who was now standing in the middle of the room.

"You're not going to tell me, are you? No, you never say anything to me, it's like I'm a burden to you" I shuffled on the metal, standing right in front of him "I'm with so much anger in my veins that I want to kill a child, a child Eren! ... A child who had her head washed all her life, a child who doesn’t know the whole truth and who only knows that by killing she can be free"

Unconsciously, my body moved everywhere, as if it wanted to release all the pressure by tiring the muscles. I stood back in front of the window and with all the accumulated anger I gave it a strong blow, slightly scratching the glass and probably breaking some knuckles.

"Sasha died because of my incompetence and the violence of this world...I want to save lives Eren, that's why I'm practicing medicine...I want to dedicate myself to saving souls, not killing them...and we have the culprit stuck in one of our rooms...why?" ...

“WHY DO WE HAVE TWO CHILDS ON OUR AIRPLANE? WHY IS YOUR BROTHER WITH US? WHY DON'T YOU LET ME KNOW WHAT IS GOING THROUGH YOUR HEAD?"

I was sure that my screams could be heard by our entire war machine. I was impatient for answers, but knew I wasn't going to get any, at least not now. My hands didn’t remain calm, they moved everywhere, a sign of my anxiety and my eyes turned around the entire room, looking at each screw, each metal beam... everything except the eyes of my supposed lover.

I was giving up, now I just wanted to rest and have a trip home in peace, even knowing that home was not going to sound the same or feel the same.

"If you have nothing to say Eren, you better leave"

I turned my back on him but didn't proceed to walk away from him. I needed to find an anchor point so as not to give up and throw myself into the arms that one day gave me warmth, the arms that wrapped me in the dark, the arms that reflected their love and affection ... into the arms that now wouldn't hold me from the waist or draw me to his chest. I wasn't going to throw me into some arms that weren't going to contain me.

I heard him take a few small steps towards me and his hand rested lightly on my shoulder. I put it aside abruptly and I distanced myself towards the remote window, seeing how little by little the smoke was getting smaller and I could no longer see the orange flame clearly; now I could only see a thin yellow line fading.

"Leave Eren"

His footsteps rumbled on the metal floor, leaving me alone once and for all.

The trip back was going to be a long one and, to be honest, I wasn't sure if there was anything for me in our home. Nothing was going to be the same anymore. Without Sasha, without Eren and with a war on our feet I doubted to even call “home” a piece of wet land in the middle of an ocean which is still the target of a world full of hate.

[andraaste]

I am not your enemy - Lance fanfiction part 13

Thing promised, thing due ! It’s not your daily maana but chapter 13 of I am not your enemy which is available !

Happy reading 😉

(there's a joke that unfortunately doesn't work in English, don't be too mad on this handsome vampire please)

Chapter 13 : You always trusted him

Realizing immediately that something was wrong, the dragon eyed me worriedly, totally hypnotizing me with his icy gaze. My heart raced far more than it should at the feel of his fingers on my skin and his scent against me, the images from last night starting to loop in my head as the vampire's words still made my throat tight.

Feeling unable to answer for the moment, I quickly walked around his large stature that blocked me in order to enter the room, divided between several contradictory emotions.

That night I had let Lance see me fully and it terrified me. I wasn't just talking about my nudity. He had seen my wounds, my limits, my deepest fears, and despite the shame it caused in me, I let him do it, urging him to enter my head, my heart. Meeting him here made my hands sweaty, I didn't know how to react. I felt both euphoric and anxious to find myself in his presence. Besides, my exchange with Nevra had once again proved disastrous, which made my stomach bitter.

I definitely didn't know how to react.

Trying to ignore the footsteps that followed mine, I made my way with some haste to the back of the forge. Once in front of the weapon wall, I raised my hand to grab a sword haphazardly, except I didn't even have time to wrap my fingers around its pommel as a tanned hand grabbed mine. Like last time, I found myself trapped between Lance's body and the shelves in front of me.

- You know that it’s not because you are part of the Obsidian that you can take a weapon without authorization ? he said close to my ear.

The sudden hoarse tone of his voice made me shiver. I was aware of his every gesture, of his every breath that lifted his chest against my shoulders. He knew perfectly well where not to touch me on the level of the back so as not to hurt me and that troubled me.

- What's more, this one is way too dangerous for you.

His palm gently pulled mine away from the handle, slowly dropping our arms together along my side. He didn't let go of me though. I took a deep breath in an attempt to ignore his touch.

- Is there anything I can take here ? I tried then, injecting as much confidence and humor as possible into my intonation.

- So, you plan to train on your own and with a real blade ?

His tone, bordering on condescending, irritated me instantly. Damn, I needed to externalize everything that was swarming inside me, what the hell was he not getting in there ?

- I especially need to let off steam for a moment, do I still have the right or you will also prevent me ?

Anger, which began to grip my heart again like a vice, suddenly made a source of heat rise in the palm of my hands. It didn't take long for the dragon to realize this and suddenly squeezed me much tighter, locking my fingers against each other.

- Andraste, calm down. Now is not the time to do that here and you know it just as well as I do.

- If you let me get out of here with what I came to get, I will indeed have plenty of time to go and calm down elsewhere. Except that in the meantime, you're hurting me, Lance.

Visibly surprised by my last words, he eased the pressure on my knuckles, relieving me somewhat even though he still hugged me tightly.

- Make your light disappear and I'll let go, he chided me.

More annoyed than before crossing him, I clenched and clenched my fists to order my powers to dissipate, which didn't work as much as I wanted. Several pairs of eyes began to rest on us without discretion.

- I would like, but I must say that your touch doesn’t help me, I say defensively.

My Chief of Guard slowly unrolled his fingers from my skin, finally letting me move my wrist as I heard it. Closing my eyes for a moment, I instinctively visualized the path of my energy along my flesh, causing it to flow back to my epicenter, level with my stomach. With amazement, I discovered as I opened my eyelids that no trace of magic left my palms.

Lance pulled away from me to give me a questioning look.

- Since when do you know how to do that ? he asked me, an eyebrow raised.

- It was a first, I said with a shrug, as I myself was shocked at the outcome of my attempt. You see, I am good. So I’ve the right to train a little.

- You are incorrigible... but you’ll have to show me that in more detail.

A proud smile dawned on my lips as he blew loudly, letting out air so cold that I saw ice crystals crystallize on a blade close to him.

- Well, I think we both know how it ends when I show you things "in more detail"... is that really a good idea ? I asked him lower, almost timidly.

He looked at me for a long time, much calmer and more serene than a moment earlier. The atmosphere had changed. More intimate, more personal. As if, in this noisy and bustling room, we were suddenly alone.

- If you want us to stop our private interviews, I will comply without objection. This is your choice, not mine. But we know very well that what happened that night has nothing to do with it and that it would have ended up happening at one point or another.

The dragon approached me dangerously, a smirk so similar to that of the Ashkore era that it disturbed me.

- Know that it wasn’t the first time that I wanted to kiss your cute little mouth, he confided to me with a certain childish malice. And then, as you have already said so well, it is you who threw yourself on me. If you don't want this to happen again, just say it and for my part, I'll be able to stay perfectly docile.

I was obsessed with his words, with what they implied. Any relationship between us could only be unhealthy, totally abject. But then, why did I no longer know what I wanted or not ? Logic would have wanted us to stick to what was decently expected of us. Anger, contempt, that should have been our only fuel.

- What if that's not what I want ? I whispered so low that I was afraid he hadn't heard it. What if, for once, I had the right to listen to myself and not give a damn about the convenience of our relationships ?

Lance had never looked at me so deeply, which made me blush with stress at what I argued. Deep down, I knew the young man had fully understood what I was talking about.

- That night, when I dreamed that I was falling from the cliff... it wasn’t the first time that I had this dream. Before I fell, I still see the draflayels flying around me, but not only. I have the impression of constantly remembering that moment in Memoria, that moment when it was just you and me, I concluded hesitantly.

Never did he cut my tirade, realizing every piece of information I offered him.

- So, is that a good idea ? Probably not, no, I answered my own question a moment earlier. But I want to and for once, I want to have the right to listen to myself.

A new smile, this time much sweeter, appeared on his face before he spoke again.

- Your wishes are orders, my angel. On the other hand, only these, so do me the pleasure of getting you away from this wall of swords once and for all. Don't forget who's in charge here, he winked at me.

Lance pushed me towards the exit, I had obviously lost the battle for my weapon for a long time. Stopping in front of the exit door, the dragon seemed to hesitate for a moment, pulling one of its locks of hair back.

- I have obligations tonight, but I'll come see you tomorrow night in your room, if you want.

Without another ounce of ceremony, he turned on his heel and left me on the doorstep.

*

After literally being kicked out of the forge, I wandered aimlessly through the HQ gardens. I realized a little more every day that besides Lance, I didn't really have any relationships that I felt like myself anymore. When he wasn't there, I often walked in circles, desperately trying to find a way to make myself useful despite my poor physical condition.

No longer able to bear to see the same landscape, I decided to leave the enclosure of these walls that I knew only too well.

My steps guided me in the direction of the burrow, a place that had definitely changed in recent years. A tree with a bent shape had grown just above the crevice, which provided a corner of considerable shade in the great plain. I decided to lie there for a moment, enjoying the calm that reigned around me. Surprisingly, my back was not as painful as I would have thought, the cream of Eweleïn probably having something to do with it.

Stretched out at full length, I watched the clouds move with the light wind blowing between the branches above me. Raising a hand above my face, I lazily imagined my energy flowing through my veins to the muscles of my palm, my fingers. Several fine and luminous lines then began to run over my skin, creating a labyrinthine path on every inch that covered me. I felt good. Soothed, even.

Looking up at the blue sky, I thought I felt something brush against my whole when my eyes rested on a cloud of singular shape. My heart warmed when, in that white and vaporous cotton, I recognized the features of a fire dragon. I might not have been as lonely as I thought. A weary smile appeared on my lips, it was as if his aura had wrapped around my heart.

I knew now that he was watching over me.

- You always trusted him... I whispered. Valkyon, are you relieved of what you find in my heart ?

A new breeze lifted my hair, as if to answer my question. Savoring this moment, I closed my eyelids for a few minutes.

A hand was shaking my shoulder more and more vigorously when I finally came to reality. Slowly opening my eyelids, it took me a while to emerge from my heavy sleep. A scarred gaze plunged into mine.

But what was he doing there ?

- Did you sleep well, Steeping Beauty ?

I couldn't help but giggle at my interlocutor's attempt to quote a tale from my world.

- It's Sleeping Beauty, Nevra.

A wonderfully soft smile appeared on his usually closed face.

- You really have some odd-named stories, that's all I can remember, he said with a weak laugh.

I awkwardly straightened up to sit facing him, when a grimace of surprise and pain distorted my features as my back skin suddenly burned. The vampire immediately leaned over me in concern, one hand holding my shoulder to keep me from rocking.

- Andraste, is everything okay ?

Seriously, I've been asked this question too much lately.

(Chapter 14)

[equestrianwritingsstuff]

Oh damn. Your drabble "Drowning" has given me IDEAS....

I can just see hero managing to stop villain from killing Supervillain, but Supervillain still being injured/ getting pneumonia from the water in his lungs... and how awkward it would be for hero to take care of someone who'd just tried to drown her.

This idea is fantastic! I hope that this was an ask to do it. If not, I apologize, but this was just such a great idea!

May get a little sad at the end (spoiler alert)

Drowning Part 2

Part 1

Warnings: concussion, CPR, death/killing mentions, descriptions of how someone was going to kill another (never acted upon), classic sick and delirious whumpee, sedatives mention, descriptions of medical setting and practices, mentions of loved ones death, pills (tylenol), hallucinations

~

Villain grabbed the knife, his fingers clutching the hilt until they glowed white. Supervillain was breathing heavily, yet he was still unconscious- lips parted and blue.

Hero also moved forward, her legs tensed and ready to pounce. The scene registered in her mind very quickly. The knife, the villain, and the heaving supervillain... blood and then the inevitable stop of breath.

It didn't have to be inevitable.

Hero rushed forward, grabbing a metal rod, and landed the blow directly to Villain's temple. He faltered, letting go of the knife and collapsing into Hero's awaiting arms.

"M Hhh," he breathed, bleeding head lolling in the crease of Hero's elbow. His eyes shifted from focused to unfocused in a matter of seconds, only to fluctuate back. Here flipped out her phone and called her medic.

"Hero! You alright?"

"Yeah I'm fine. Get to Supervillain's base. It's empty. Villain has a bad concussion, he's not entirely lucid right now..."

"Oh uh, um... I'm on my way." The line clicked.

Hero laid Villain against the wall, cupping his heavy head for a moment before tending to the unmoving supervillain. He wasn't breathing.

Hero quickly felt for a pulse and upon finding a soft thump-thump, she tilted his head to the side. Water immediately gushed out of his nose and mouth. He sputtered a little bit, but never woke.

Hero pressed her lips against Supervillain's after rolling his head back to the center. She breathed into his mouth four times, checked to see if he began to breathe. No.

She continued this. Breathe, breathe, breathe, breathe, check... breathe, breathe, breathe, breathe, check... until the supervillain gasped for breath, choking and coughing out water and mucus.

Supervillain jerked himself forward, glancing at Hero to Villain and then back at Hero.

"H-" another coughing fit with more water. He started to gag, dry-heaving until tears spiked his eyes and nausea rose in his throat. When he was done, he scrambled to his feet and tumbled towards the open door to his base.

Hero returned to Villain's side and scooped her friend up. Medic wasn't there, so she decided to take him herself. Caressing his head, gently, she followed Supervillain outside and to her base.

The next day, Hero was walking along a sidewalk on her way home from visiting Villain in the hospital. It was a nice day, a great change from her near-death experience with Supervillain the day prior... Hero shuddered, trying not to think of the agonizingly cold water, the darkness lapping at her vision, knocking Villain out... the whole ordeal.

Knocking Villain out... Hero replayed the conversation she just had with her very ungrateful ex-frenenemy (apparently?). The half-dazed cusses and just plain rudeness from the bedridden patient were more than enough to make her feel annoyed. She saved Villain from committing an act that would have surely land him in jail- if not a mental facility. Especially the way the concussed villain talked about killing Supervillain. Apparently, Villain was going to slowly kill him with the knife, decorating major body parts with cuts and blood.

Hero sighed. That sadistic little turd that couldn't just walk away-

A groan.

Hero looked up to find herself walking in front of an alleyway. It was dark, if that's not a little too cliche, and eerily quite. Not even a stray cat knocked over a garbage can like in every classical alleyway scene.

Hero entered the alley stealthily, opening her holster and lying her hand over her gun. She looked behind every dumpster and every cardboard box. Finding nothing, she proceeded to leave, but two hands grabbed her mouth and throat.

Being yanked backwards sent a spark of adrenaline through Hero's veins. She turned and thrashed, but her attacker was unrelenting.

"Let me go!" Hero yelled when a large hand slipped away from her mouth. The other hand went away too. Pulling her gun out, Hero spun around, only to have a fist meet her face.

The impact startled her, but not as much as the body leaning heavily against her's.

The body heaved and gasped, heat radiating off its skin. Hero looked down and took in the features. She couldn't see a face, but it was obviously a guy. Hero dragged the man over to the only bare spot against the brick wall and leaned him aaginst it. She began to step away, only to realize that his head was resting against her shoulder.

"Hey," Hero mumured and grabbed the man's cheeks, holding him up, examining his face...

Hero nearly dropped the pale face.

It was Supervillain.

Also known as the man who tried to kill her.

Hero, for a brief second of primitive logic, contemplated leaving the feverish man to deal with himself. But guilt, and maybe a twinge of annoyance, drove her the complete opposite direction.

After all, she didn't just save him and give Villain a concussion only for him to die, right?

Yet as she scooped her attacker up, two portions of her brain- her sensible part and her empathetic part- played tug-of-war with each other. Drop him, bring him home, drop him, bring him home...

Of course the empathetic clump of cells won and she bridal-carried the shivering supervillain to her apartment.

She set Supervillain on her beige couch with a blanket strewn over his lap. He just had a cold right? She brought him some tylenol and a glass of water.

"Hey," she said softly, almost a whisper. Supervillain seemed so disconnected that she was afraid that she would startle him. His eyes were glassy and had an abnormal, faraway look.

Supervillain didn't reply, or look at Hero. His gaze was fixated on a corner of the living room.

Then, like a bomb suddenly going off, he started to cough.

He coughed until blood, water and mucus gushed from his mouth. He hacked it up like a waterfall. Hero stood up, linked her hands under his shoulders and hauled him into a better sitting position.

He coughed until he was sobbing, screaming. He fell back against the cushions, sputtering and crying, with tears streaming down his face. Each breath seemed to be a workout- shaky and shallow. He never made eye contact with Hero. Just stared ahead, coughing and crying.

"Are you okay?" Hero asked, loudly, but she still doubted the sick supervillain heard her. She placed a hand against his back, rubbing circles. It was just a cold- she was certain.

But he was so hot.

So unnaturally hot.

Hero frowned and went to grab a thermometer. She placed it against Supervillain's lips, but he didn't open them.

"Come on now," she coaxed gingerly and rubbed his flushed cheeks. She sighed. She didn't even need to know the temperature to know that the sick man infront of her had a fever.

Supervillain parted his mouth open and allowed the pointed metal edge to find a home under his tongue. He tried to move it around, but his resolve was too weak. Hero held it there until it beeped. 102.9

102.9 degrees fahrenheit. Nearly 103 degrees...

"Oh gosh," Hero exclaimed and dumped a couple tablets out of the tylenol bottle. She coaxed them onto Supervillain's bacteria-lidden tongue and pressed the glass of water against his bottom lip.

"Drink," she whispered. Supervillain obeyed and took a sip just big enough to force the pills down.

"Good job," she praised and lowered Supervillain down. Only for him to start coughing again.

"Take it easy, honey," she murmured. Honey? Where did that come from? Come on Hero, she scolded herself. The guy just tried to drown you the other day; you don't have to make this even more awkward or embarrassing.

Supervillain leaned into her. His firey body nearly made Hero begin to sweat. His eyelids drooped, breaths slowed, and soon he was alseep in her arms.

Hero knelt there by the armrest, alone with her intense thoughts. She rubbed his moist hair, allowing her nails to scratch at his scalp. Even alseep, she hoped it gave some comfort.

Not that he exactly deserved comfort. Villain was in a hospital bed, sleeping off sedatives and painkillers greedily and dealing with a major concussion. She thought of the grim night the doctors and her shared. Restraining a delirious villain, the MRI, all the tests... and then finally given the clear to inject a moderate sedative dose to help him sleep.

But Hero still gave the undeserved comfort. Maybe she was too empathetic, too caring and generous for her own good, but that matter could be taken care of another day.

Supervillain awoke a few hours later to Hero'd strawberry smelling hair resting against the top of his head. Her arms dangled across his chest as if she was giving him a hug from behind. She fell alseep mid-hug.

Of course, the supervillain did not register this interaction as that. He imagined it more as encompassing tendrils of ivy tying him down to a foreign object. He squirmed, trying to break free of Mother Nature's restraints, but he was too sick, too weak, and too helpless to do much more than move around.

Hero then woke up also, pulling her arms- the so-called vines- off the terrified supervillain's body.

"Good morning," she yawned and pressed a hand against her ward's forehead. Supervillain didn't seem to know what to do. He wavered between pushing forward into the hand- or the frustratingly threatening boulder to him- or pulling away. He chose the later, jerking away only to send a rush of mind reeling dizziness through his head.

He swayed, or he thought he did for he was still lying against the couch as if a magnetic force attached him to it. Reaching out weakly to grab Hero's hands, he closed his eyes.

"You are so sick," Hero cooed, her voice a mixture of both anxiety and tranquility. Supervillain gripped her tighter and tried to pull himself up to her.

"Shh, shh," Hero whispered. "Sleep."

Supervillain seemed like he nodded. Or was it due to him loosening up as he fell asleep again? Hero didn't know, nor cared.

She stood up and laid a blanket over Supervillain before heading into the kitchen to make a bland chicken soup and a small bowl of rice.

After the meal was done, about thirty minutes later, Hero returned to Supervillain on the couch with a portable plastic table and the food. She propped the still sleeping man into a sitting position before awakening him.

Supervillain blearily opened his eyes, blinked, and settled his gaze on Hero's eyes. He twitched his head upwards, but that was all. Hero didn't even think he noticed the steaming food on the table beside him.

"Want to eat?" She asked, more to herself than anyone. Supervillain looked at her with those wide, brown eyes like he did right before he attempted to drown her.

"Mnh," Supervillain groaned. "M chest hurts."

"Your chest hurts?"

"Mhm."

Hero tentatively lifted his shirt, but the feverish man didn't seem to care, or realize the possible intimate gesture.

"Let's take this off, shall we?"

Supervillain nodded, which made Hero nervous. Why was he being so compliant?

Nevertheless, she striped his shirt off and examined his ribcage. She had him take a couple deep breaths, but the movement seemed to exhaust him further. His ribs seemed a bit swollen, but nothing was broken.

Then a horrid realization dawned on her.

He had pneumonia. Most likely due to the water still festering in his lungs.

"Ooookay," Hero breathed. She would deal with that later, maybe call Medic- no, no one could know that she was housing the Man of Terrors- but first she had to get some food into Supervillain's stomach.

So she spooned, mouthful by mouthful into Supervillain's parched mouth slowly. She cleaned any broth dripping down his chin with a washcloth.

After he finished eating, Supervillain was so exhausted that he nearly fell alseep with his neck bent awkwardly. Hero readjusted him to a laying position, but elevated him slightly to ease his ragged breathing.

Pneumonia.

That would explain the harsh breathing and the daunting fever. Gosh, was he sick and so sudden too. Hero sat next to Supervillain, rubbing his hair back from his sweaty forehead like a caretaker.

Even though it was awkward, given the circumstances and past events, Hero stayed with him all night. Easing his pain, feeding him small bits of rice and soup, taking off blankets and putting them back on, wet washcloths and fans. Sometimes she would doze off on his chest, but never for long.

Whatever connection and trust built up between the two that night was unbelievable. Extraordinary, even. But still, nothing, not even with the newfound relationship, prepared Hero for the one simple and innocent yet insanely heartbreaking word that sickly Supervillain uttered.

"Mother?" He squeaked, looking up at Hero with eyes so full of love and relief that they looked about to burst. Hero felt her heart break, shattered to a million pieces as her guest extended his hand to her face.

"Am I in heaven?" He asked in such a childish manner. He looked around, but frowned at his surroundings. "Mother? You're dead right? Am I dead too?" The previous chirpy voice lowered to Supervillain's desolate montone.

Hero didn't know what to say, for Supervillain gazed at her with all the intent he could physically muster.

She could give into the hallucination and play along, but guilt would eat her alive. But, she thought it rude to just blatantly say, "No. You're mother is dead. It's me, Hero."

Supervillain whimpered, chin trembling as he began to cry. Hero winced, but then realized:

She said those words outloud and now she had a grieving, delirious, and sick supervillain to tend to. Great, just great.

[hotchnersbiitch]

Worth Fighting For

A/N: SEND ME REQUEST PLZ

Request: @jojosgirlkat1dluvr​

Pairing: Spencer Reid x reader 

Category: angst & fluff at the end 

Warning: kidnapping, violence. Heavily based off the episode titled Revelations 2x15, so if for some weird reason you haven't seen that episode this will contain major spoilers I guess??

Word Count: 2,003~ 8min

-

You groan as you woke up in a dark room that smelt awful. Your face was throbbing in pain, you went to touch your face when you realized your hands were handcuffed to a chair. Where were you? The last thing you remember was being with JJ to talk to a possible witness but you both discovered that he was the unsub. Tobias? You think that was his name, he ran around back you and JJ split up to look for him. Next thing you know you were hit in the head, now you're in a dirty cabin. 

“Shit.” You mumble out of pain looking down at your handcuffed hands trying to see if there was a way out. 

“Watch your language.” A loud threatening voice called out, the man from earlier was standing in front of you, your eyes went wide. 

“Colossians 3:8; But now you must also rid yourselves of all such things as these: anger, rage, malice, slander, and filthy language from your lips.” The man recited as he pulled out a revolver and one silver bullet holding the bullet up to your face. 

“This, this is God’s will.” He says loading the bullet into the gun and spinning the chamber before pointing it directly at your forehead.

“Y-you don't have to do this.” You stutter out, fearing for your life. 

“Yes I do,” he mumbled, next thing you heard was the pull of the trigger. click

The whole team was at Tobias’ house trying to find a way to get you back. Your best friend Spencer was losing his mind, he was so worried about you. You guys have been best friends before you even joined the BAU a few years after Spencer did. You both went to college together, you guys were inseparable. Hours passed with no luck, Spencer was worried sick but he was trying his best to stay calm and figure out where you were. Everyone was, you were the youngest of the group, everyone tried their best to protect you. 

“What are you doing? Don’t, please don’t” You beg as Tobias fills a syringe with a clear liquid, you had no idea what it was. 

“It helps.” He says calmly as he lines the needle up with your vein. 

“Please, I don't want it. I don't want it, please.” You were crying not knowing what was going to happen to you. 

“Trust me, I know.” He says as he sticks you with the needle slowly injecting you with the drug. You wince at the pain, you feel the liquid flow through your veins your eyes rolled to the back of your head. 

“Y/N? Y/N?” you sat up off the floor in an empty, completely white room, you saw your mom standing across from you, how was this possible, she's dead. Are you hallucinating? Are you dead? 

“Mom?” 

“Don’t be afraid to let go, sweetie,” she said in an angelic voice, it all made sense to you now.

“I don't want to die.” You cry out to your mother. 

“Then fight, what's something worth fighting for?” She asks

“Spencer.” You reply immediately, you loved Spencer so much. You don't want to leave this Earth without him knowing he’s the love of your life. You don't want to hide your feelings for your best friend anymore. You wanted a life, with him.

“Fight for him Y/N. Don't give up on him, you love him. He loves you too. Don't give up on him.” She says her voice becoming quieter and quieter.

“I love him, I love him..... I love him.” 

  “Guys! Guys! Get in here!” Derek yells from Tobias's computer room where Garcia was working to find you. The team rushes in gathering behind Garcia, gasping when they see the computer screen. Spencer's face went white and he started crying, JJ placed a hand on his back to comfort him, but there was no calming him down now. 

“He’s killing her,” Garcia said looking away from the screen where you were being beaten. The team watched intently as the scene unfolded in front of their eyes. 

“Answer me! How many members are on your team not including yourself?!” He yelled, he broke you you couldn't take anymore beating. You didn't know how much longer you could hold out. 

“Seven” You mutter your voice weak. 

“The seven angels who had the seven trumpets prepared themselves to sound. The first sounding followed hail and they were thrown to the earth.” He says walking around you before standing in front of you again, you glanced at the camera that was filming you with a terrified look on your face. 

“Tell me who you serve.” He demands. 

“I serve you” You whimper out. 

“Then chose one to die.” 

“What?” You question your heart rate picking back up again. 

“Your team members- chose one to die.” 

“Kill me.” You meant it, you'd give your life for your team.

“Choose, and prove you'll do God's will.” He says as he pulls out the revolver again spinning the chamber before pressing it to your forehead. 

“Choose.” 

“I won't do it.” he pulled the trigger. Nothing. 

“Life is a choice, now choose.” 

“No.” he pulled the trigger again. Nothing 

“Choose.” 

“I...” You thought for a moment before a plan arose in your head. 

“I choose... Spencer Reid,” you utter out.

“He’s a classic narcissist, he thinks he’s better than everyone else on the team because of his intelligence. Genesis 23:4 “Let him not deceive himself and trust in emptiness, vanity, falseness, and futility. For these shall be his recompense.” 

Spencer shook his head, immediately knowing what you were doing. 

“That's wrong,” Spencer says. 

“She doesn't mean it, man, she's under tremendous stress,” Morgan says and Spencer shakes his head wiping his puffy eyes. 

“I know that I'm not a narcissist. But she does know that I know what she means.” He says the team gives him a perplexed look waiting for him to elaborate. 

“Y/N and I argued about the definition of classic narcissism not too long ago, and she knew that I would remember that, and she also quoted Genesis, chapter 23, verse 4. ‘I am a stranger and a foreigner with you. Give me property, forbear a place among you that I may bury my dead out of my sight.’ She wouldn't get it wrong unless it was on purpose. She's in a cemetery.” He explained in a broken voice. 

“She's telling me where she is,” he adds. 

“Okay, uh....” Garcia says typing away on the computer. Hotchner leans over her and points to the screen. 

“What's that patch of green there?” He asks. 

“Marshall Parish. I think it is an old plantation” Garcia responds. 

“Wait!” Spencer says running to get one of Tobias's journals flipping it open before rushing back in. 

“Tobias wrote in his journals about staying clean and keeping away from Marshall,” Spencer says passing the journal around to the team. 

“Guys, there's a cemetery on the grounds,” Garcia says. 

“She's there guys, Garcia send us the address. We have to go before its too late!” Spencer yells running out to the SUVs with everyone else. He was so scared he’d never see you again, he had to hurry. 

You woke up to the man taking off your handcuffs, you panicked, what was happening? 

“What are you doing?” You ask as the handcuffs dropped to the floor, suddenly he grabbed you by the hair dragging you outside. You screamed out in pain as he dragged you out to the cemetery, he drops you before throwing a shove at you. 

“Dig,” he says sternly, you sobbed and did as he said scared as to what may happen if you didn't obey. You hoped Spencer got your message and the team was on their way to come save you. You dug for what felt like hours but was only several minutes, you felt weak, you needed to escape. You didn't think your team was going to find you in time. You looked at the man before you swung the shovel hitting him in the leg. He fell to the ground and you took this chance to run the best you could, you could see flashlights in the distance, was that them? 

“HELP! I’M OVER HERE! SPENCER! GUYS!” You screamed with all the power you had hobbling as fast as you could, you saw them coming closer to you. Suddenly you felt something hard hit the back of your head and a gunshot echo through the night. 

You woke up to bright lights blinding you, you groan closing your eyes again, your whole body ached. 

“Y/N?” You heard Spencer’s voice. 

“Is she waking up?” You heard Derek ask. You were alive, you were safe, you felt comfort wash over you. You forced your eyes open. 

“Thank God...I’m alive” You mumble looking around seeing your team all around you. 

“Yeah, babygirl you're alive,” Derek says quietly, you look over at him and smile at him. 

“How are you feeling?” Emily asked walking over to you. 

“Like shit.” You say with a small chuckle. 

“Yeah, I’d imagine you were hit over the head with a shovel,” Emily says matching your vibe with a small laugh. 

“That's what that was? I thought I got shot, I felt something hit me and I heard a gun go off and then everything went black.” You explain, the whole team was standing around now listening. 

“No, you weren't shot. Spencer shot Tobias right after he hit you.” Aaron explains, abruptly everything came rushing back to you. 

“Spencer...” you mumble looking over to him tears pooling in your eyes you grabbed his hand. 

“I knew you'd understand. I knew you would.” You mumble before you started crying. Spencer started crying too and nodded. 

“Yeah, I understood immediately. That was brilliant, I’m so glad you thought of that because otherwise... We may not have found you.” He says with a sniffle. You look around at everyone tears flowing down your face. 

“Thank you guys, so much. I was so afraid, I thought I’d never see you guys again.” You admit, JJ and Garcia were crying now too. Derek looked like he was about to, you were so happy to be alive. After a while, everyone said their goodbyes and said they would all be back tomorrow to pick you up since you had to stay in the hospital overnight. Soon enough it was just you and Spencer, you were grateful you two were alone now. 

“Spence, will you stay the night with me tonight? I’m scared to be alone. I know there are doctors around and stuff but I'm scared.” You admit, Spencer sat next to you and grasped your hand. 

“Yes of course. You don't have to explain yourself, I figured you would ask anyways.” He says softly, he looked like a wreck from hours of crying and worrying. 

“You were the only thing keeping me alive.” You say softly looking down at your hands that were intertwined together, you resumed. 

“You're the only reason I didn't give up. I didn't want to die... I didn't want to die before I could tell you I love you... I love you so much, more than a friend.” You said not making eye contact with him, it was quiet for a moment before you heard Spencer crying, which in turn made you start to tear up as well. 

“I was worried I was never going to be able to tell you I love you either.” He says with a small smile on his face as tears streamed down his cheeks, he continued. 

“I love you too, I've been hiding it for so long. I was so scared I'd never get the chance to tell you.” He admitted you smiled at him as he brought your hand to his lips kissing it gently. 

“You're my hero Spencer Reid, I love you.” You say looking at him with eyes full of admiration for him he smiles softly kissing your knuckles. 

“I love you too.”

[minis-gaming]

I always wanted to write a FanFiction about little 6 and 47 and their time in the Institute, so here it is! I would also be very happy if you would left some Kudos for it on my AO3 ❤️

TW: Torture, Child abuse, Drowning, Death

Brasov, Romania

The Institute for Human Betterment was located far away from any civilisation in the mountainous forests. It was an old building, a mansion trumped by a box-shaped extension, the only part that suggested it was more than just a simple institution.

Because the Institute was situated in such a remote location, the human experiments that were carried out in this facility remained hidden from the public. With the cunning use of intimidation and money, it was easy to keep something a secret. Nobody outside the building knew anything about Doctor Otto Wolfgang Ort-Meyer's cloning program and the experiments he carried out on infants and children. Nobody suspected that in these deep, dark forests children were being tortured and that the main goal was to form them into perfect killers by any means necessary.

Everyday life in the Institute was tough and marked by violence and pain.The punishments for misconduct ranged from bashing to isolation and execution. The rules were strict and discipline was paramount.There was no place for feelings in the facility. The boys were trained to suppress emotions. They were taught that feelings equated with weakness. They had their guiding principles: Weakness is the enemy. Strength through discipline. Discipline through the mastery of one's feelings. But what Ort-Meyer and the brutal guards forgot was that they were still children who only suppressed their feelings for fear of punishment. Subject 6 knew the feeling of coming into the bedroom in the evening and being able to shake off this fear. That time when the boys got ready for bed, when they put on their pyjamas. It was like his whole body was relaxing. The feeling of tense muscles that were finally loosening. He used the short time when the bedroom door closed behind him to inhale and exhale several times and then suddenly let himself fall into his bed. This brief moment of lightness and peace of mind was the highlight of the day for him. But 6 knew that these instants were rare and could be broken at any time. It happened again and again that the boys were startled by the overseer in their sleep, to go on long marches through the forest in the middle of the night or to scramble through the muddy course behind the house when it was pouring raining. For this reason, these short times without this tension, without the knot in the chest that reminded the boys of their guiding principles, were so precious.

Far away from the guards' gaze, the boys used the time to exchange ideas. They sat together on their beds, telling creepy stories or watching porn magazines that they had stolen from the guards. It was important to be quiet. The children's laughter in those moments were barely audible, the boys had learned to hold their hands over their mouths so as not to be heard when they giggled at the sight of the naked women in the Playboy.

Subject 6 was an orphan. As an infant, he was left behind in the hospital by his mother immediately after his birth, where Ort-Meyer found him. He bought the baby and many more to do inhuman experiments on them. Ort-Meyer got the money and influence from an organisation called Providence, which commissioned the doctor to create the perfect killers. They should be more than just super soldiers, they should be quiet, the perfect silent assassins. Subject 6 remembered the many injections given to him. He remembered the feeling of serums flowing through his veins, the warmth rising inside of him and cramps that made all his muscles freeze and the pain so intense that he vomited. He was tied to a metal table and left alone with his pain. What remained was the feeling of fear. He thought he was going to die any moment; every fiber of his body was streaked with pain, as if he was being burned inside. He felt the sweat on his forehead and he could no longer suppress the screams. Tears were running down his face from the corners of his eyes. He sensed exactly how the serum flowed through his body, he felt how it found its way through his veins, like a burning river. He didn't know how long he laid there each time. Minutes? Hours? At some point the pain stopped and gave way to total exhaustion. 6 was breathing hard and looking into the bright light of the neon lamps. He no longer had the strength to scream or to fight the serum. It was like embracing the pain that plagued his body. He felt beads of sweat drip from his forehead and bare torso. The heat spread evenly as the serum made its way into every fiber of his body. He had to endure this procedure several times a week, always followed by tests to see whether the serum had the desired effect. He had to run for hours on a treadmill, lift weights and do intelligence tests. He knew he had acquired skills beyond those of a normal child.

In parallel to the attempt to make children stronger and more resilient with special serums, Ort-Meyer started a cloning program with the help of funds from Providence. He hoped to be able to create the perfect killer right from the start without having to send him through the painful procedure that 6 had to endure. Many of the first clones died early, they were disfigured and not viable. But with Subject 47, Ort-Meyer created a perfect clone, the perfect human. The perfect killer. Right from the start, 47 possessed all the skills that 6 and the other children had only acquired through the serums and hard training. 47 has been trained to use his skills to become the best assassin from the day he was created. Ort-Meyer watched him with hawk eyes. He had great expectations of 47, and the other children knew that 47 was in a different position from theirs. Although he had to do the same training as the others, Ort-Meyer watched him especially. He called him the most gifted of all his boys. Oftentimes, 47 had to show off his skills by fighting with other children. 6 watched him during these fights. He saw as the rest of the boys were left expressionless as they witnessed 47's dexterity in combat. He made it look effortless while the rest of them had to endure long hours of fighting techniques to be his worthy opponent. 47 appeared to 6 and the other children as cold and reserved, disinterested and unemotional. He never spoke to the others and always held back when there was a conflict.

It was 6 who at some point, when the boys were back in their chamber and getting ready for sleep, took the initiative and approached 47 as he was sitting on his bed and taking off his socks. "Hey 47," he said softly as 47 turned around and looked at him with his deep blue eyes. 6 felt the other children's gazes on his neck, they fell silent and there was a certain tension in the air, as if they were expecting 6 to be eaten alive by a bear. 47 didn't answer, so 6 stepped forward. He crossed his arms behind his back to show that he had no intention of harming him. "Today in the fight, that was impressive," said 6 with clear appreciation in his voice. 47 looked at him, then his gaze wandered to the other boys, who immediately averted their eyes for fear of angering him. Then he looked back to 6 and their eyes met. 6 tried to read something in his stare, a sign of gratitude for the compliment he had just received, or, which was more likely, a sign for annoyance. But he saw nothing. They were cold and unemotional. 6 regretted having said anything at all when 47 suddenly whispered a soft "thank you". At that moment 6 saw it, that brief glint in his eyes. It was barely noticeable, but 6 could see it. A small smile played around 6 lips. "Do you like card games?", he asked. 47 looked at him questioningly when 6 pulled out a couple of old cards from under his bed. "Some cards are missing, but you can still play Mau-Mau with them", said 6 as he shuffled them and was watched by 47. "I don't know that", 47 said shortly. 6 sat on the bed. "It's very easy." While 6 started explaining the rules, 47 slowly sat down next to him and listened attentively. The other boys watched in disbelief.

From that night on, 6 and 47 played Mau-Mau together on their bed everyday. The other boys did not dare to play along, on the contrary, from that evening on they met 6 with the same distance as 47, as if he had tamed a lion that he could let loose on the children at any moment with just one command. 6 didn't care. He enjoyed the friendship with 47 and the feeling of not being alone. When he went to sleep in the evening, he whispered to 47 a quiet "good night". 47 didn’t reply. Only his look at that moment told 6 that he was happy. For 6, his gaze was not cold and distant, but warm and grateful. It were just nuances, dilated pupils when 47 won Mau-Mau, a slight squint of his eyes when he lost, and that warm look he gave 6 when he wished him good night. Sometimes 6 even saw a slight hint of a smile in the corner of his mouth. For outsiders who didn't understand 47 as well as he did, it wasn’t more than a twitch, but 6 knew it was there. 6 realised that 47 was more than an emotionless clone and he was aware that he was the only one with the gift of knowing this.

One night, Subject 6 and the other boys were asleep in their beds. In the small room there was space for eight children in four bunk beds. The chamber was bare and uncomfortable, with nothing to suggest that children lived there. There were no toys, no painted pictures on the walls, no books. The metal beds were equipped with thin mattresses and blankets and only an old fireplace provided the warmth that was so badly needed that winter.

Suddenly, Subject 6 and the other children were woken up when their warden opened the door and loudly ordered the children to get up. None of the boys showed resistance. Nobody pulled the covers over their heads again or stretched, yawning. As if at the push of a button, they got out of their beds and stood in a row. 6 looked at Subject 47, who was facing him. Their eyes met. 6 knew that 47 felt the same uncertainty about what was to come as he did, even though one couldn't tell. But 6 could see it in his eyes. No one except 6 knew that 47 sometimes felt the same fear as the other children and it was important that it stayed that way. Ort-Meyer would be very disappointed to know that his favorite Subject was feeling exactly the same emotions as the others.

The boys stood next to their beds. They knew these situations. They were aware that they were being roused from their peaceful sleep because they had a task to do. They were only dressed in their blue pyjamas, they wore neither socks nor shoes. Despite the log fire, the arch was freezing and Subject 6 felt the cold slowly rise inside his body. He watched intently as the guard walked scrutinizing past the children and examined them. "We're going out", he bleated and left the room. The boys followed without saying a word. They all knew that talking or even contradicting would result in a blow with the rubber truncheon by the overseer.

They ran down the hall and down the great stairs. Subject 6 felt uncomfortable. It wasn't the first time the children had been awoken from their sleep in the middle of the night to do some kind of task. But what they ultimately had to do remained a secret until the very end. It was the element of surprise that the overseer used. It should prepare the boys to be able to improvise in any situation and to always perform at their best.

When the warden opened the large front door, the boys were hit by the icy cold outside. Without hesitation, they followed the overseer into the snow. When Subject 6 stepped into the snow with his bare feet, he was breathless for a moment. The cold shot through him with an uncomfortable pain, he felt his feet and then his limbs went stiff. "Don't stop", the guard shouted angrily when he noticed the boys' hesitation as they tried to ignore the freezing cold that seized their bodies. 6 folded his arms and rubbed his armpits with his hands to at least warm up a little. He felt his breathing accelerate automatically and how the cold found its way into his throat. The pain that pierced his body was almost unbearable. He tried to remember the feeling he had when he was lying in his bed. Although the mattresses were uncomfortable and the blankets were thin, the moment the bedroom door was closed was the one 6 liked the most. He knew that it could happen at any time that he would be torn from his dreams, which is why the thought of his bed, of the silence and the relaxation that he felt when he lay there and his mind could freely circulate, was so precious to him. He thought of the evenings with 47, which they spent sitting on the bed playing cards and the warmth of the fireplace that surrounded him when he closed his eyes and slowly slipped into lovely sleep when fear and pain were forgotten for a brief moment.

At that point he dared to look back briefly. Subject 47 was further behind him. He rubbed his armpits too. 6 could see how hard he was breathing, each of his breaths visible through a thick, misty waft. 47 looked at him and gave him a short nod to understand that he should look forward again. Subject 6 turned and continued to follow the guard in silence.

It wasn't long before the children reached a lake not far from the Institute. 6 couldn't tell what time it was, but it was probably very early in the morning as he could already see the sun rise on the horizon, its rays making their way through the trees and lighting up the frozen lake as if its surface was made of nacre.

The warden ordered the boys to line up. "Your task: you swim from one end to the other", he explained briefly. The task was clear, none of the boys asked a question or protested, even if everyone knew this task could be fatal. So it was with many tasks that the children had to do at the Institute. 6 had seen many children die. He knew that because of the way they were created, he and the other boys were different from other children, both mentally and physically. They were made to be faster, stronger, and more resilient. They were intelligent, could improvise even in stressful situations and they could adapt well to any circumstance. But they weren't invulnerable. Even small mistakes could cause a task to fail. Even so, it wasn't impossible for them to accomplish this order. Normal children would hardly survive this, they would probably die from the shock of the cold water, let alone be able to hold their breath long enough to swim to the other side. 6 knew that he and the other boys were physically capable of doing this. More important was whether they would be able to keep a clear head during the process. This exercise was not only a test of their physical abilities, but above all their mental ones. "Subject 4, you are the first", the warden shouted. He had a clipboard and a stopwatch in his hand. One of the boys stepped forward. He took off his pyjamas until he was standing in the snow in his underpants. Subject 6 saw him shiver. His skin looked pale and bluish, and his feet were red from the cold snow. Subject 4 carefully stepped onto the ice surface, which crunched under his weight. He went on to a hole in the ice. 6 looked at the hole and his gaze wandered to the end of the lake, where he could make out another one in the distance that was straight ahead to the other.

Subject 4 slowly slid into the hole before taking a deep, perceptible breath and then submerged. The guard pressed the stopwatch. What followed was an uncomfortable silence. While the warden only looked at the ticking watch, the boys looked at the surface. Subject 6 held his breath. He wondered how long it would take Subject 4 to swim to the other side while watching the shadow of 4's silhouette beneath the ice sheet. He felt the tension when he noticed that he could no longer hold his breath and he knew that there were only seconds left for Subject 4 to get to the other side. 6 breathed out silently when couldn’t hold his breath anymore, when he suddenly heard a knock. The guard looked at the surface. It was first a short knock, then another, then it became more. They all heard the despair; they all knew what was happening. When the knocking fell silent, the guard stopped the clock, took the pen from the clipboard and with one movement he crossed out something on a piece of paper.

"Subject 6, you're next", he snapped. 6 breathed in and out deeply as he took off his pyjamas. He had the feeling that he no longer sensed the cold. The pain had given way to a strange numbness and what remained was the impression of many small needle pricks that hit his skin. When he was standing there only in his underpants and walking in the direction of the ice surface, he noticed the warden looking at him. He wanted to turn around and look at 47 but he didn't dare to. When 6 reached the small hole in the ice, he first slid his feet into it. The pain that rose through him almost made him scream, but he stifled the scream and clenched his teeth in agony. He let himself slide further into the icy water, then took a deep breath and dived below the surface.

The water was pitch black. Only a few of the distant sun rays penetrated the thick surface and served 6 as a subtle but much necessary orientation. Without hesitation, he started swimming. He stayed just below the surface and tried to the best of his capacity to swim straight ahead. He tried to remember the hole on the other side of the lake and he orientated himself by the sun rays that he hoped would shine through the other hole. As he swam as fast as he could, he was suddenly distracted by something he saw to his right. He dared a quick look to the side and looked into the wide-open eyes of Subject 4 floating motionlessly below the surface. Subject 6 was petrified. He felt a vibrating heat flooding his body. Immediately he removed his gaze from his late mate and refocused in front, yet in the corner of his eyes the boy’s stiff body still floated and his dead stare remained stubborn in his mind like a reminder. He had to make it to the exit hole because he knew he only had seconds before he couldn't breathe anymore, and his body would give up due to the cold.

Subject 6 swam as fast as he could when he saw the redeeming sun rays shining through the other hole. When he emerged, he took a deep breath. Although the cold continued to hurt and his heart pounded as hard as if it were about to beat out of his chest. He climbed out of the hole and as he stood on the slippery surface he felt life coming back to his body. He took some deep breaths to feel the fresh air in his lungs again. His stiff limbs ached, so he moved them a bit. He shook his arms and legs to get rid of the ice cold water that surrounded his body. He was clearing himself from the fear and pressure he had just felt and allowed the relief of having survived the task. Without lingering, he ran back to the others.

He got no praise from the guard, no applause from the other children. Another boy has already been asked by the guard to do the job. Subject 6 took his ice-cold pyjamas out of the snow and pulled them over his wet body. He saw his reddish blue skin, he saw how he was trembling and he could no longer suppress the fact that his teeth chattered softly and his lips trembled. Only now did he realise that Subject 47 was no longer there. The panic of the air slowly lacking in his lungs, his heart racing and shrinking due to the icy water was nothing compared to the shock of that moment as he realised that the blurry silhouette swimming under the ice was 47. The image of the lifeless eyes of Subject 4 floating stiff in the water came back as his stomach twisted violently in visceral dread for his friend. To his convenience, his trembling limbs and shattering teeth seemed to the rest of the boys and the warden as the natural response to the freezing low temperature. The truth was, the fear for 47’s life had taken over his whole self in uncontrollable nerves. He realized that the trembling of his body was no longer just from the cold, but also from the fear he was feeling.

The ticking of the stopwatch was the only thing that broke the silence. Those were painful seconds for subject 6. Tormenting because of the uncertainty whether 47 would make it, agonising because he was not allowed to say that he was afraid, that he would have to suppress any feeling. At the corner of his eyes he noticed as the warden threw a look at him and in the blink of an eye, he studied him. Emotions weren’t allowed, as neither were words of encouragement or congratulation. Emotions were equated with weakness. Weakness is the enemy. Strength through discipline. Discipline through the mastery of one's feelings. With one eye 6 followed 47 swimming under the ice while with the other, he made sure the warden didn't notice the sheer level of dread that had taken over his slender body. He felt his heart ache. His gaze was fixed on the other hole at the end of the lake. Tick ​​tock tick tock tick tock. Subject 6 gritted his teeth. He had the feeling that he could hardly stop the tension. The agitation that surrounded his body hurt even more than those few seconds swimming under the ice cold water. His hands clenched into fists and trembled from the pressure. Suddenly he heard a gush of water come from the other hole and the bald head of Subject 47 emerged. When 6 saw him climb out of the hole, he immediately let go of the convulsion. Life returned to himself like a warm breeze and embraced his body. The pressure left his body as if he were shedding ballast. The knot in his chest that had cut off his breath came loose when he saw 47 climb out of the hole unharmed. 6 suppressed the imminent smile that wanted to draw in his lips. He didn't care that he was cold, he didn't care about the pain. It just mattered to him to know that Subject 47 had made it.

When the task was finished, the sun had already risen. Six boys followed the guard back into the large building, where they were allowed to take a warm shower and change into fresh clothes. When Subject 6 got dressed, he went to 47, who quietly put on his clothes. “Are you okay?” 6 asked quietly. 47 looked at him and nodded. 6 was unsure whether 47 was well, when he suddenly saw a small, barely perceptible smile flicker in the corner of his mouth. That's when 6 knew he was okay.

Special thanks goes out to @sillyliterature Thank you for giving me helpful tips and for helping me to improve myself as a writer! Thank you for taking your time reading my stories, I really appreciate ❤️