#i was having a nightmare and somehow i hit my head off the wall behind me

[jontheredrc]

Well, it's about that time again...and I didn't even write one of these posts on Wednesday because I was feeling so utterly out of it. I'm not even sure why, still not totally sure, but I did end up sleeping a lot on my day off yesterday, so I think that was a big part of my problem. But then...when I woke up this morning, my arms were numb, and I couldn't feel my hands at all. I slept on my back, and both my arms were fucked, so that's scary. I mean, I've always had sleep issues...sometimes it's insomnia, sometimes it's too much sleep, sometimes I sleep but don't feel rested, sometimes I'm simply too afraid to sleep...but this is kinda new. I sorta wish I could call out and, like, figure out what's wrong with me. But I don't have enough sick time, and my attendance occurrences are, well, too many. (Three is too many, because after a fourth, I start getting in trouble. I do have an absence that falls off my record...on Sunday...)

But...maybe I'm just making too much of it. Have a great day, everyone! Love you! I have Saturday and Sunday off, so maybe we can hang out...? 👋💕

[solarmorrigan]

I'm late, I'm sorry, but here's the full fic from this WIP post yesterday!

[CW: bullying, references to canon racism and violence, mentions of recreational drug use]

-

Steve makes it to the bathroom down the hall from the shop classroom—the one that’s far from the cafeteria and always empty during lunch, where people really only come to smoke, anyway—before he completely loses his shit.

“Son of a bitch!” He’s almost screaming as he hauls off and punches the wall of one of the bathroom stalls, putting every ounce of anger and frustration and humiliation into it, hitting it so hard that the whole construction rattles.

“Motherfucker,” he hisses, shaking his hand out, because it had hurt, and then he winds up to do it again, to make it hurt more, because at least he’s in control of that much, at least it’s anything but what he’s feeling right now.

“That’s a good way to break your hand, y’know,” a voice comes from the doorway, startling Steve into pivoting and aiming his fist at whoever is coming after him now.

He stops short when he sees nobody but Eddie goddamn Munson standing there, cringing into a startled flinch to protect his head as Steve nearly swings at him.

“Jesus shit,” Steve barks, dropping his fist and stepping back, shaky with adrenaline. “You walk like a fucking ghost, Munson.”

Munson peeks out of his defensive crouch before straightening up and sending a meaningful glance at the stall wall. “Somehow, I don’t think you would’ve heard me even if I was making all the noise in the world.”

Steve shrugs, his shoulders staying up near his ears in a defensive slouch. He can feel something dropping out of his hair and down the side of his face, and he feels the humiliation all over again as he tries to swipe it away.

“What do you want?” he asks, beyond caring if he sounds rude; he thinks he’s entitled, considering.

This time, Munson shrugs, a rolling, casual thing that belies the sharp look in his eyes. “Came to see if you were okay, I guess.”

Steve snorts. Is he okay?

Like, in the grand scheme of things, the answer is a really shaky “maybe.” But lately? It’s more of a resounding “no, not fucking really.”

Aside from everything else – aside from the nightmares, aside from the headaches, aside from the fact he’d had to drop basketball after his concussion, aside from having no real friends or allies at school now that he and Nancy aren’t together – aside from all that, there’s Billy fucking Hargrove.

Hargrove, who had taken all of a month to start pushing Steve’s buttons again. Who had taken less than a few days after that to realize that Steve wasn’t going to push back.

And then he’d started looking for the boundary line, pushing and pushing, shoulder-checking Steve in the hall, tripping him in the single class they share, knocking shit out of his hands, shoving him when his back is turned, all the while spitting names and insults, until it had culminated into today’s fiasco: dumping a carton of chocolate milk over the top of Steve’s head in the middle of the cafeteria with a deeply unconvincing “oops.”

It had gone dead silent, every eye in the room on Steve’s red face and Hargrove’s triumphant grin, while Steve had only been able to stand there, shaking with startled rage as milk had sluiced out of his hair and seeped into his collar and down the back of his shirt, knowing that he couldn’t retaliate.

He couldn’t.

He’d marched out of the cafeteria, shame and anger growing as voices had bloomed up behind him, already gossiping and speculating.

So, no, actually, he’s not really okay.

But instead of saying any of this to Munson, he just scoffs and turns away, looking towards the sinks.

“Wouldn’t have expected you to care,” he says, injecting as much lazy indifference into his voice as he can, trying to armor up the way he used to. “The number of speeches you’ve given about how much me and my group suck, I’d have figured you’d be the first to say I deserved it.”

Munson doesn’t say anything for a moment, and Steve doesn’t look back to see if the barb landed. He doesn’t really care, he just wants the guy to go away so Steve can finish his meltdown and clean up in peace.

“Not your group anymore, though,” Munson finally says.

Steve shrugs, pulling a wad of paper towels from the dispenser; might as well move on to cleanup if Munson isn’t going to fuck off. He guesses his little breakdown can wait until he gets home.

“Hasn’t been for over a year, now, right?” Munson goes on. Steve says nothing, using a dry paper towel to try to blot up the mess. “And whatever you were like then, you’re… less like that now. Like, anyone paying attention can see you’re kinda trying something new this year.”

Steve ignores the way that makes something catch in his throat. “Thanks for the endorsement,” he drawls. “I’ll put it on my college apps: Not as much of an asshole as I used to be.”

“It’s a start,” Munson says, and Steve glances up in time to see him shrug in the mirror.

“I guess,” Steve mutters.

“And, uh – hey, I grabbed your stuff,” Munson says, holding up the binder and notebooks that Steve’s attention had glossed over until now. “Some of it’s kinda… milky, sorry.”

Steve blinks. “Uh. Thank you,” he says, stunned for a moment into sincerity.

Munson shrugs again, putting Steve’s stuff up on the narrow shelf on the wall that no one ever uses to hold things because it’s probably never been cleaned. Not like Steve’s stuff is clean now, anyway.

Steve turns back to the sink, wetting a few of the paper towels and waiting to see if Munson is going to leave now.

“What I can’t figure out–” nope, apparently he’s staying, “–is why you’re in here punching the wall, instead of out there, punching Hargrove.”

At least that makes more sense; he’s here out of curiosity, not concern.

“I mean, most people would’ve hit him for that,” Munson goes on. “I would’ve.”

But Steve’s already shaking his head before Munson’s finished speaking. “Not worth it,” he says firmly.

“What, afraid of a little suspension?” Munson asks, almost teasing. “Pretty sure the school would let their golden boy off with a slap on the wrist.”

“Not anybody’s golden boy anymore,” Steve snaps, scrubbing a wet paper towel through his hair in a vain attempt to get some of the rapidly-drying milk out. “I dropped basketball, remember? Didn’t even go in for swimming this year.”

“Oh, yeah,” Munson says, like he’d genuinely forgotten. “Sorry, not really into the whole… sports scene. Like, at all.”

Steve shrugs. “Whatever. Not important. I don’t give a shit about being suspended. I don’t even care if he hits me back. Not like I need another knock to the head at this point, but – whatever.” Steve shakes his head. “It’s just that he could– there are other things he could do.”

In the mirror, Munson’s eyebrows go up. “What, does he have blackmail on you or some shit?”

Steve raises his brows right back. “If he did, do you really think I’d tell you?”

Munson tips his head to the side. “Yeah, okay, fair enough.”

“Anyway, he doesn’t have blackmail, he has… leverage, I guess.” Steve lets out a harsh sigh and gives up on his hair for now, wetting a paper towel to try to get some of the milk off his face and neck, instead.

“…are you allowed to tell me what that is?” Munson asks after a moment.

And for a moment, Steve thinks about it. The only people in school who really know are Nancy and Jonathan, and he’s asked them to follow his lead in just – not talking about it. He hasn’t told anybody any version of what happened in the Byers’ house, or why Billy seems to have made him his personal stress ball. But who the hell would Munson tell? All his nerdy friends in his game club?

(No, no, that’s not fair. Steve doesn’t even know those people, and he’s trying not to be that guy anymore. He doesn’t have to be nice, but he shouldn’t be unkind.)

(The point stands, though – who would Munson even tell?)

“Do you know why Hargrove beat my face in back in November?” Steve finally asks, avoiding Munson’s eyes in the mirror by focusing very hard on getting the tacky milk off his hairline.

“Well, I’ve heard most of the rumors by now, I think. Heard Hargrove’s version of events, as has pretty much everyone, I’m sure. Haven’t heard yours, though,” Munson says, his voice tilting up in interest. “I just figured it was because he hated you.”

Steve lets out a humorless laugh. “Yeah, well, you’re not wrong. But also…” He pauses for a moment, collecting his thoughts. “There are these kids I babysit. Sort of.”

“Sort of?” Munson presses.

“Well, most of the time it feels like they’re just ordering me around like a bunch of entitled shitheads. But I make sure they get where they’re going without, like, disappearing, and that they don’t have so much unsupervised time that they manage to get themselves killed,” Steve admits.

“Uh huh,” Munson says; he sounds… a little confused, but not disbelieving. “And you ended up with this gig, how?”

“It’s Nancy’s little brother, and his little nerd friends,” Steve says (he’s allowed to call them nerds because he knows them, and it’s true. And besides, it’s affectionate).

“Aaand you’re still doing it now? Even though you and Wheeler aren’t…”

Steve shrugs. “They grew on me. But that’s– that’s not the point. One of the kids is, uh. Hargrove’s stepsister. And the night me and Hargrove got into it, I guess she wasn’t supposed to be out.”

“Ah,” Munson says.

“Yeah.” Steve sighs, giving up on the milk as a bad job; he probably should’ve run off to the gym showers instead of a shitty bathroom. He turns and leans back against the sink, crossing his arms over his chest and staring at the floor near Munson’s scuffed sneakers. “So he came looking for her.”

“So… Not that I’m advocating handing over children to pieces of shit like him, but – like, wouldn’t it have been the technically correct thing to do, to send her home with what is legally a family member?” Munson asks.

Steve passes a hand over his face. “She was terrified,” he says quietly, feeling a little like he’s betraying Max’s trust by saying it out loud, by saying it to a stranger. “She was terrified of what he would do if he found her there, where she wasn’t supposed to be. Terrified of what he would do to one of the other kids if he caught them together, since he’d specifically warned her to stay away from him.”

“What’s wrong with this other kid?” Munson asks, brows furrowed.

“Nothing,” Steve bites out. “He’s smart, and he’s brave, and he’s, like, slightly less of an asshole than some of the others, but what Hargrove cared about is that he’s black.”

“You’re fucking kidding me,” Munson snaps, and Steve’s hackles raise, ready to defend his kid all over again if he has to, but before he can get anything else out, Munson goes on. “We already knew he was a racist piece of shit, but – a fucking kid?”

Steve subsides. “Yeah. A fucking kid. So I told them all to stay inside and I went out to try to head him off. Or at least keep him out of the house. Which, obviously, I failed at.” He lets out a derisive little laugh, aimed solely at himself. “He knocked me on my ass, knocked the wind out of me, got past me– and by the time I was able to get up, he was already– he was inside, and he had that kid by the collar, up against the wall– one of my fucking kids–” Steve breaks off, the same rage and terror from that night choking up in his throat again. After the day he’s had, his emotions are all too close to the surface, too near to bubbling out, and he rubs at his nose, trying to stave off the angry, exhausted tears he can feel pricking at the corners of his eyes. “So I decked him.”

“Good!” Munson exclaims, and for a moment Steve actually manages a real smile.

“Yeah,” he says. “Then he hit me back, which, like, obviously. I was expecting him to, but– I mean, I might’ve actually won that fight if the fucker hadn’t hit me in the head with a plate.”

The expression that crosses Munson’s face is almost comically shocked. “What?”

“Yeah,” Steve says again, running a hand over his jaw, thumbing almost unconsciously at the still-fading scar where the porcelain had sliced him open. “I’m a little fuzzy on shit after that. Like, I remember being on the floor, and him kneeling over me, and hitting me, and hitting me, and then– I dunno, nothing.”

Distantly, Steve realizes that the expression on Munson’s face has turned from ‘comically shocked’ to ‘mildly horrified,’ but he’s a little too lost in the blurry memory of that night to do much about it.

“Holy shit, how are you not dead?” Munson blurts out.

He looks like he immediately regrets asking, but Steve finds he’s actually grateful for the question. He’s glad to move the conversation along.

“Max.” He smirks over at Eddie. “Hargrove’s stepsister. I guess she, uh– threatened him with a baseball bat? Saved my ass.”

That’s a deep over-simplification, but Steve can’t think of a way to explain the presence of heavy sedatives in the Byers’ house, and, anyway, she had threatened him with a baseball bat. The kids had all taken great joy in reenacting the way Max had nearly neutered Hargrove with the nailbat, actually; it’s almost like Steve had been there (and conscious).

“Holy shit,” Munson says, and whichever part he’s referring to, Steve is inclined to agree.

“Yep. So I was out fucking cold at the time, but the kids all insist that she got him to agree to leave her and her friends alone, but…” Steve shakes his head. “Hargrove is a fucking psychopath. I don’t trust him to keep that promise. So, at least if he’s focused on me, he might leave her alone. But if I hit back…”

“You think he’ll retaliate by going after one of your kids,” Munson says, only a hint of teasing in his words at the end.

“I know he will,” Steve says; Hargrove had implied as much more than once. He crosses his arms back over his chest. “And they are my kids.”

Munson throws his hands up, as if in surrender, but he’s definitely smiling now.

“I’m serious,” Steve insists, close to smiling himself. “They think I’m stuck with them, but they’re the ones stuck with me.”

“Lucky them,” Munson says, and– what?

“What?” Steve asks.

“Look, you’re either a better actor than, like, everyone in the drama club, or you at least seriously believe what you told me, which is more than I can say for Hargrove and whatever shit he came up with about the two of you getting into it over… what, his car was better than yours? He’s better at laundry ball? I don’t fucking remember, and it doesn’t really matter, because it was clearly and pathetically fabricated,” Munson says with an authoritative nod. “You, at the very least, really give a shit about those kids. So, yeah. Lucky them.”

“Well,” Steve scrambles for a moment, trying to cover the way he actually feels like he might start fucking blushing, “if I’d known all I had to do to change your mind about me was tell you about a fight I lost, I’d have done it ages ago.”

And now Munson’s back to smirking at him. “Seeking my esteem that badly, Harrington?”

“What? No. I mean – not– not specifically yours, it’s just… like, there’s not really an easy or fast way to make up for being kind of a dick for the last… while.” Steve runs his hand through his hair, stopping with a grimace when he remembers the drying milk. “You just have to keep not being a dick and hope people give you a chance. So, like, compared to that, convincing you was easy.”

“And all you had to do was get a severe concussion first,” Munson drawls.

Steve rolls his eyes. “I didn’t say it was severe.”

“You got hit with a plate,” Munson deadpans, and Steve can’t quite help the resulting flinch, at which Munson almost immediately softens. “Sorry.”

Steve shakes his head. “It’s fine.”

Mouth screwed to the side, Munson eyes Steve for a moment, glancing over his shirt and up to his face before gesturing at him. “You want some help with that?”

Steve blinks at him. “What?”

“Your whole… hair situation. You could bend ov– like, you could lean over the sink and I could, uh. Try to rinse it for you. Or whatever,” Munson offers, awkward but apparently sincere.

It sounds like a stupid as hell way to try to rinse his hair. The sinks are small, and not exactly high off the ground; Steve would have better luck just going to the locker room and showering it all out. His soap is there, too, and an extra shirt.

On the other hand, Steve really doesn’t feel like leaving the bathroom yet. He’s pretty sure lunch is going to end soon, and encountering everyone during passing period sounds like a nightmare. In here, with Munson, it’s quiet. It feels almost safe.

“Yeah, sure,” Steve finally says, and Munson looks nearly shocked that he’s accepted.

Credit to him, though: he doesn’t back out. He just slides his jacket off, tosses it up over the wall of one of the bathroom stalls, rolls up his sleeves, and gestures for Steve to lean over the sink.

“Hot or cold?” he asks, going for the taps.

“Hot,” Steve answers immediately; he doesn’t need any other cold liquid on his head today.

“Hm.”

“What?”

“Nothing,” Munson says airily, turning on the water. “You just kinda strike me as a cold shower guy. Like, up at dawn, go for a run, take a cold shower – all that weird jock shit.”

It isn’t intended to mock, Steve realizes as Munson tests the water temperature—the school pipes take forever to heat up—but to tease. It’s a joke, and Steve is invited in on it. And anyway, it’s… actually kind of close to the mark, so Steve doesn’t say anything at all for a moment as he puts his head as close to the faucet as he can get it and Munson places one cupped hand over the back of his neck and uses the other to scoop water over Steve’s hair.

“Cold water is better for your hair. Not that you’d know anything about that.” Steve finally says, hoping that his own teasing tone carries even with the way he has to raise his voice to be heard over the running water.

Luckily, Munson sounds amused when he answers. “Oh! Shots fucking fired. I see how it is!” Even as he’s pretending at being offended, his fingers stay gentle against Steve’s scalp as he tries to scrub out the dried mess, and Steve fights very, very hard not to shudder.

He can’t remember when the last time someone touched him with gentle intent was. Maybe he’d gotten a hug from Dustin last week?

Shit, that’s fucking pathetic.

He tries even harder not to lean into the touch, into the surprisingly kind hands on the back of his neck and on his scalp, tries hard not to act like some kind of touch-starved weirdo and make Munson regret offering to help.

The irony of the fact that Steve is trying not to act like a freak in front of Eddie Munson is not lost on him.

After another couple of minutes of Munson manipulating Steve’s head this way and that, doing his best to be thorough, he lets Steve go entirely and shuts the water off.

“That’s probably as good as I’m gonna be able to get it,” he says, pushing another handful of paper towels at Steve as he stands up.

“Better than I could’ve done here,” Steve says with a shrug, rubbing the paper towels over his hair and grimacing as he can feel it frizzing in about a hundred different directions.

When he finishes, he turns to look in the mirror, watching in real time as it droops over his forehead and tickles at his wet shirt collar. Munson stands next to him, watching without judgement, but with what feels like an inappropriate amount of fascination.

“Well, I’m not going to lie to you,” Munson says at last, “you look a little like a sad, wet dog.”

Steve’s eyes snap to Munson with a glare. “Gee, thanks.”

“Some people are into that!” Munson insists, holding his hands up placatingly. “That droopy aesthetic, with the big, brown puppy eyes. Someone might just wanna scoop you up and take you home to take care of you. It’s a thing.”

Do you want to? – the question comes immediately and unbidden to Steve’s head, and he quickly shakes it away. They might be on amiable terms right now, teasing each other a little, but he isn’t sure that wouldn’t be a bridge too far.

(He isn’t even sure it is teasing. For a moment, he’d had the genuine urge to ask.)

“Anyway, I think most of the mess is out of your hair, but I’m pretty sure your shirt is toast,” Munson goes on, gesturing to the brown stain around the collar, over one shoulder, and probably down the back.

If he’d been wearing a darker color today, it might’ve been alright, but of course today he’d chosen light blue. Steve sighs, plucking at the front of the shirt. If he can’t salvage it, he might as well ditch it; it’s getting uncomfortably stiff and tacky with the dried milk, and he’d honestly rather stick it out in his undershirt for as long as it takes him to get to the locker room than walk around with evidence of Hargrove’s little stunt all over him.

He untucks the shirt and yanks it over his head, no need to be careful of his hair, emerging from the depths of it to find Munson staring at him in a stunned sort of silence.

“What?” Steve asks. “If it’s wrecked, anyway, I might as well get rid of it. I’ve got a spare shirt in my gym locker I can go grab.”

Munson blinks at him, almost like he’s trying to clear his head. “Or!” he practically shouts – possibly louder than he meant to, since he continues more quietly, “Or, you could just ditch for the rest of the day. I mean, you have any particularly interesting classes after lunch you feel the need to attend?”

“Not really,” Steve admits with a huff of a laugh. “But leaving after that feels a little like– letting Hargrove win. Like I’m retreating or some shit.”

“Nah, don’t think of it like that.” Munson tosses an arm over Steve shoulders, waving his other in front of both of them, like he’s trying to show Steve a grand vision and they aren’t both just staring at the ugly tile on the bathroom wall. “Think of it as cutting class and getting free weed from Hawkins High’s most esteemed dealer.”

Steve turns to look at Munson, staring at him more closely than he’s ever had reason to, and realizing there are tiny freckles on his face. “What, seriously?”

“Sure.” Munson shrugs. “Lemme smoke you out, Harrington. Seems like a good way to let your stress go for a bit – though I am just a little biased.”

“Why?” Steve asks; he doesn’t understand the sudden turn this day has taken, the sudden and bizarre kindness offered that he doesn’t even know what he’s done to deserve.

Munson’s eyes slide away from Steve, though his arm notably stays draped over his shoulders. “Been where you are. It’s not great. And, I mean, if it had happened last year, then, admittedly, I probably wouldn’t have given as much of a shit. Jock on jock violence, whatever. But you,” he glances back at Steve, “you’re genuinely trying to be, like, a good person. And I don’t think you should be punished for that. I think, in fact, that you could probably use a friend.”

“I…” The words stick in Steve’s throat, because what the hell can he even say to that? On anyone else, Steve would have assumed an ulterior motive, but Munson had infused it with so much awkward sincerity that Steve can’t help but realize it’s probably the nicest thing anyone’s said or offered to do for him in… he’s not even sure how long.

His silence must stretch on a little too long, though, because the hopeful light in Munson’s eyes fades a bit, and he begins to slide his arm off of Steve’s shoulder. “Or, y’know, you can tell me to fuck off, because I’m, like, way overstepping some boundaries, and–”

“We should go to my place,” Steve blurts, while grabbing Munson’s wrist for some insane reason.

“What?” Munson blinks over at him, (understandably) startled.

“My place. We should go there to smoke. If you still want to.” Steve could cringe for how stilted the whole thing is coming out. “I want to be able to take a real shower.”

Munson stares at him for a moment longer before laying a hand over his heart with a gasp, suddenly leaning heavily into Steve’s side and forcing Steve to wrap an arm around his waist so they don’t both lose their balance.

“I see how it is!” Munson gasps dramatically. “My sink shower just wasn’t good enough!”

Steve holds in a laugh. “Your sink shower was… fine. But I’ve got milk dried in other uncomfortable places, so unless you want to wash my back for me, too, we should go back to mine.”

Munson’s gaze snaps back to Steve, something a little odd in it, and – oh. Oh, that hadn’t sounded quite like Steve had meant it. It had sounded a little like an offer of the kind you don’t go around making to just anybody.

Steve braces himself, waiting for the reaction (he doubts if Munson would get any kind of physical, but there will probably be an awkward pulling away and sudden remembering of something he has to do literally anywhere else that afternoon), but all Munson does is break into a sly smile and say, “I could, but I’d have to charge you extra.”

Steve can’t help it: he laughs, giving Munson a good-natured shove, who finally releases Steve but doesn’t stumble more than a couple of steps away.

“Meet you at my place?” Steve offers, balling up his shirt and dropping it on top of his notebooks as he grabs them from the shelf. “Half an hour?”

“Wouldn’t miss it.” Munson gives him a corny little salute before grabbing his jacket from over the stall wall and preceding Steve to the bathroom door.

“Munson,” Steve finds himself calling out, just as the other boy’s hand closes around the door handle; Munson glances back and Steve fights the urge to look away. “Uh. Thanks. For, like… yeah. Thanks.”

Whatever meaning Munson takes out of Steve’s absolutely eloquent verbal vomit of gratitude, it makes him smile. “No need for thanks, man,” he says. “I’m honestly a little surprised to say it, but the pleasure was definitely mine.”

And then he disappears out the door, leaving Steve in the bathroom wondering how the hell his day had taken this turn, and just what destination it’s leading him to.

And thinking that he’s honestly a little excited to find out.

[festering-obsession]

How You Fell Into Their Trap

TW/CW: Self- Destructive Behavior, Hollywood-ized Disorders, Yandere/Dark Behavior, Violence, Dubious Consent, Drugging, Slight Divergence from Source, Canon-Typical Violence

A/N: Pacing could be weird in both stories. In both, the reader is pondering the past before it jumps to the present to help with any confusion before reading!!

Slenderman:

You want to tear your eyes out, pull at your skin, and scream until nothing left can be heard. It would be better than the constant paranoia eating at you. The splitting headaches and the dazed look on your face as you slowly forget what day it is.

No medicine, no drug can even make you lose an ounce of these random episodes. What's worse, it that they seem to drag on longer and occur more. You wipe the bile off the corner of your mouth as you lean next to the wall in front of the toilet.

The doctors even are puzzled. They best the can sum it up to is you’re faking it. Your body is faking it. Then why can't you stop any of it? In fact, you beg your body to stop.

You can't ignore the fact that you were a sickly child. Constantly falling under nearly the same symptoms but after your parents moved, it stopped. Occasional bouts here and there, but maybe the cleaner air farther from the city helped. Your parents agreed that you eventually just grew out of your sickness, hoping to move on and forget.

But you could never forget the same figure that haunted you since a child. The same tall, white figure, faceless, in a suit. He was everywhere. As soon as you looked, he was there for a split second. And you could feel his hostile aura waiting to strike and kill you. Even as an adult, that face haunted you.

You tried to pin point what triggered your episodes. Maybe after you went to the forrest with your friend, maybe a weird bug bit you? Or you contracted an infection somehow? The forest was beautiful. Tall trees, lush grasses, variety of flaura, and the mountains raised in the backdrop. All was suppose to go well, but going there was the worst mistake of your life. The previous delusions you seemed to have increased tenfolds and it seemed you threw you friend in the same fate as you.

The two of you wandered the forest after the wind rushed and seemed to grip the map from his hands. And even better? Not a lick of signal. When night time hit, you entered a real life nightmare. The figure that haunted you as a child came back. And scarier than ever. But this time, he also saw it.

Your friend gripped your hand as the two of you narrowly escaped the almost glitching creature. Appearing behind, then in front, and then in a damn tree. When you lost track of the figure, your friend was also losing track of himself. He heaved as he gripped at his hair before pulling at it. Above your own urge to do the same, you tried to grab his hands and stop him. Your friend looked at you as he began to claw at his eyes.

"GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME." He roared as blood began to seep down him. "He told me, he told me that if I touch you, my death will be put in his hands." He sobbed out scooting away from you.

"He? Who's he?" You cried out, confused as you saw your friend trying to hurt himself.

"Him. The man. The one in the shadows. He told me that if I even look at you anymore, he'll rip my eyes out himself." He banged his head on the ground, still clawing at his eyes. "But he granted me the mercy to at least do it myself." Your friend reached for a jagged rock and brought it to his face.

Your head was filled with static to the point you passed out, and awake in your living room. You wanted it to be a dream, but it was farther from the truth. Your coworker and close friend, hung himself in the same place you two hiked at two days prior.

It was your fault, and you couldn't bring yourself to let it happen again as you hauled yourself in your apartment. Refusing contact with anyone. You were just meant to be a disease.

The apartment went on fire, and you never felt more estatic. Finally, you would greet death with open arms, and your family wouldn't live with the regret if you took your own life. Shit, maybe they could even sue to gain some money off your death. Maybe you'd actually bring fortune to someone.

You laid pliant on your bed, smoke filtering inside your room as the fire danced and spread around the room. A smile on your face before you felt its presence again.

The tall figure hovering over you this time, but no sickness accompanied with it. Faceless, except spots that were slightly sunken in that could be mistaken for one, put a finger up to his face presumably to its mouth. He then disappeared and you fell into unconsciousness with it as well.

And appeared back in the same fucking forrest. This time, surrounded by three human(ish) men.

A crazed man with goggles and a mask, wielding a bloodied axe. Next to him, was a seemingly timid one, dressed in an orange hoodie and when you tried to focus closer, all that greeted you was red, sullen eyes. A feminine mask graced the other one as he donned an orange bomber jacket.

Your mouth felt dry and when you tried to scream, it came out a pathetic groan for help. They clearly had no interest in doing so, more concerned on talking to one another in poorly hushed voices.

"You handled them too rough! If they get a bruise, he won't like it." One choked out in a worried tone.

"They're not a doll, they're fine. And besides, it's not like he told us to deliver them to him in 5-star hotel. He wanted them to be brought to the forest and we did. I'm sure he wouldn't be fond if we held on them too long, so to the floor they go." The one behind the mask spoke, steady voiced.

And another air of static rose around you, stiffening your surroundings. You fell in and out of consciousness and could barely even tell if time was moving, or not.

The men had left sometime ago, 3 hours or minutes? You didn't know. All you could feel was the mossy earth and crushed leaves beneath your slightly aching body.

Vision blurred as the man in the black and white dotted across behind your eye lids in mind as you slipped unconscious into a fever like dream. But this time, it didn't make you sick. It was replaced by a sense of, longing? What was once your nightmare incarnated, seemed softer (even for lack of facial features).

You felt as if watching yourself in third person, your figure collapsed on the floor of a velvety chapel, a heavy white [dress/tuxedo] weighing you down to the ground as you could hear a low melody playing in the background, a church hymn low in the distance as the pianist follows suit.

Pushing yourself up with your two arms, your mind follows the red path trailing to the center. You hear murmuring in the distance but as you scanned your surroundings, no one was there. Just the tall white figure dressed in the clean tuxedo.

You felt yourself gliding towards him, despite not even getting up on your feet. But when you looked down, you saw the inky black tendrils span out like tiny veins combining to makin thick ropey tentacles. They slowly brought you towards him as your hands slowly held onto the decaying flower bouquet.

You opened your mouth only to find no words were coming out. You gripped at your lips, trying to force something out to protest against whatever this was but the sweet piano was only heard echoing throughout.

Finally, you were brought to the empty pillar, but the entity's limbs never left your body. Instead, it seemed to latch onto your harder, as it expanded over your body. You gazed over the empty chapel, but the long and slender hands of the monster in front of you made you look at him.

Blank, faceless, pale, but you could feel the tension in the air as he stared at you in his own way. His stark white body contrasting deeply with his black tuxedo. You felt tears rush down your face but the monster seemed to enjoy that sight. As your face came close to his, the static in your head grew. The only word you could make out amiss all the noise was mine.

As your lips finally made contact with the blank slate of a man, you woke up in a large bed. As you glanced around, you found dust on the bed, but everything else looking surprisingly in pristine condition.

Just as you were about to scream, a large hand grasped your shoulder. The entity, that monster. But, instead of the normal vomit inducing headache and static you would feel when you confronted him was gone.

Yet, that [dress/tuxedo] from the dream still remained. As you looked down at your outfit in confusion, the monster slipped his hands under your chin to meet his gaze. The static-like voice replaced with a deep soothing, voice finally talked as his other hand made it up your back.

"Now that your officially mine, I can't find myself being able to hold back much longer."

Jeff The Killer:

Jeffery always seemed on the brink of becoming unhinged. Ever since building up to the, incident. His family moved to the neighborhood, normal enough. His parents, his brother, all seemed well. Even at first meetings Jeffery looked sane enough at first glance. Nothing stood about him. Like every other teenage boy. His light brown hair framed his face in the typical unkempt way with his blue eyes shining against his complexion. His clothes were obviously picked out by his mother since he never cared to actually shop for his wardrobe.

He was not your first choice to be friends with. But as your parents grew cozy with his, they near forced you to befriend the quiet boy.

It was awkward. Standing next to him at the bus stop with small talk eventually landed to you two sitting on the bus together. It grew to where he would spare you an earbud to play music on his music player. Then, it turned to you actually seeking him out during class projects, not because you had no one else to, but you began to somewhat enjoy his company.

You began to come to his house, and him to your house without the prompting of your parents. Maybe you were just as strange as him which explained the quicker connection between the two of you. It ranged from drawing, reading horror stories to eachother on the ever growing "internet", running to the near gas station for a snack stop only to get brain freezes from racing eachother who could drink their slushie faster.

His interests slowly grew darker. Darker videos, interests in the occult and local murders and death, and even visiting previous crime scenes. You didn't notice at first, you enjoyed the more taboo subjects, but he seemed to take it on a different level. But like you, he was just a young adult trying to figure out the big world, right...?

As his interests grew more morbid, a group of boys began to pick on him. His brother did what he could do to halt them as you tried to center Jeffery's attention elsewhere, but you knew it was beginning to wear him down.

He fought them. Not only did he fight one by himself, but three. He was scuffed up, but the other boys more so. You felt in a daze. Although it was self defense, he would be put in the blame. He came to your house soon after, but he wasn't in a panic. He was happy. Estatic. You fussed over his bruises and small cuts as you dabbed on first aid supplies. He couldn't stop talking for the death of him. You ignored most of it as he tended to talk lots of nonsense most the time, but a sentence stood out you couldn't ignore.

"I never felt more alive."

He looked at you. His blue eyes shining threw his choppy, layered hair. He gently held your wrist in the middle of applying an antibiotic cream.

"S/o, I want you to know, if anything happens, you're coming with me. I promise that." His once happy persona faded as he stared at you solemnly. You nodded slowly and continued patching him up.

When the police came, his brother Liu took his spot and told them it was him. You've never seen Jeffery so desperate to admit his own crimes but the police left, leaving the younger brother. It changed something in him. He only trusted Liu and you. But with him gone, he was clingy and.. handsy. Always trying to have you physically touching him in some way. Either him pressed up against your side or his hand wrapped around yours. His twisted mind finally grasping the concept of how easily people can be taken from him.

To no one's surprise, he did get in trouble more at school. His parents blaming him for getting into so much trouble in his senior year. To your surprise, not too long after that fight, his parents forced him to go to a party with them as a way to "clean" up their image. Like the loyal friend you were, you went with him.

It all happened too fast. His bullies were back as ready for vengeance all the same as if they didn't cause enough damage. One grabbed at you taunting him, "No big brother now, and no [girlfriend/boyfriend] to help you either!" One cackled as they drew a knife near your throat. He never had lost his composure so fast as he saw you. In his mind, you were his and that disgusting shit touched you.

Pure chaos erupted as two boys dropped dead. Blood on both men. Police were called but none came fast enough. Tears went down your face as you tried to grab one of them to stop but your parents held you back in horror watching them fight. Eventually Jeffery got the advantage and took time to prepare his next move in state of manic happiness. He didn't mind the bleach dripping down his frame. He had murder on his mind.

"Remember my promise. I will come to get you soon!" He looked back at you before he grabbed onto the knife and lodged it into the attackers chest. You felt dizzy with the scene in front of you, finally hearing sirens from the cops.

The final movement from the attacker lifted up a match and sent Jeffery on fucking fire. A blood curling scream from the crowd erupted before you felt sick to your stomach and passed out.

He was sent to the hospital, and as much as you were trying to visit him, only family was allowed. Countless nights you worried over the health of a boy you didn't even want to be friends with in the beginning. Too weak to talk to him one on one. All information you got on his wellbeing was from his parents who were already stressed enough.

When he was finally released from hospital and was being sent home, your parents allowed you to visit him the following morning.

As the sun rose and birds chirped, you sprinted to his house with the latest music DVDs and horror movies that he missed out on. You knocked on the door as you barely contained your glee for seeing him.

The door opened. It was unlocked. And the smell of metal wafted to your nostrils. You peaked your head and opened the already ajar door.

And you screamed as blood was splattered in every corner.

But, that was years ago. No longer the dumb teenager you were, but yet it was still stained on your mind. The countless headliners for the news, the police interviews, the therapy sessions. You moved far away from that neighborhood but no matter where you go, the memories would still follow.

Although a murderer now, still on the loose which scared you to your core, you yearned for the nostalgic Jeffery. The one before the murders.

You placed the book of photos down, gingerly touching the photo where you and Jeffery clicked slushies together. It was over now though, that was the past.

That night as you laid to rest, you felt the cold breeze of the nightly wind under your sheets.

You also felt cold wet drops on your face as a hand slapped against your mouth before you could fully register what was happening.

A manic grin spread from ear to ear, scared red against deathly pale skin. Eyes a dull blue with dark eyebags. The hair was jet black and frayed in a shaggy like mullet.

His other hand held your arms in one grip as he started laughing.

"Oh, s/o, I finally found you." He cried out in-between bursts of laughter.

"But where the fuck were you when I needed you. Where were you when I told you I'd come to get you."

And your heart dropped as you mumbled through his fingers. "Jeffery, is that you...?"

"The one and only and STOP AVOIDING THE QUESTION. WHERE WERE YOU?" He begged out, his happiness dropped. "It was suppose to be just me and you. Just us against the world. I needed you to wait for me. But when I finally got my own footing, you left!"

"I fucking missed you. But now, " He shifted eagerly as he straddled your hips. "I'm myself. This is what I was meant to be, and can you even accept that?"

You look at him in shock, your whole body feels like it was dropped in freezing water. Your heart was in the dilemma of whether it's about to stop or keep beating as wildly as possible.

"I don't expect you to respond now. But you will answer me later, you whore." He leaned down and took his hand off your mouth. "I hate that I still like you even after you abondoned me."

His lips hovered over yours teasingly. "I fucking hate the fact you're still as beautiful as the day you left me. But now, you're staying with me." Despite his taunting demeanor, there is an act of urgency, desperation, in his next moves.

His lips connected to yours within seconds as you tried to squirm away. His hands still holding yours away from pushing him. His hand gripped your cheek as he pushed the back of your head to deepen the kiss.

And then you felt a foreign pill slip into your mouth as Jeff still kept the kiss connected, forcing you to swallow.

"Go to sleep." He breathes out, finally pulling away from your lips. You are hit with an unfamiliar urge to go unconscious. Your limbs feel unbearably heavy as your eyelids begin to close again. The last thing you see before your eyes shut is his insanely stretched out smile and his lovesick eyes glaring at you.

….

[Heyyy I’m alive guys. Work and school kicked my ass but I’m still here. Also, part two down here lol.]

[neon-junkie]

The Tower

Summary: Gasping for air, unsteady hands, blurred vision - Why did this have to occur during the midst of battle?

At least Tech knows how to help.

Word count: 1.7k

Pairing: Tech x GN!Reader. Can be read as platonic or romantic.

Tags: Panic attacks, Anxiety attacks, Angst, Comfort, Happy ending.

Notes: I've had maaaaany requests for some angsty comfort with Tech. About time I wrote it! Based on my favourite tarot card - The Tower.

When the tower begins to crumble, it's bound to fall.

Built on an uneasy foundation, it was only so long until your walls began to chip away, and with it, the rest of the structure started to collapse.

And whilst you are somewhat used to that sensation, you're not used to this out-of-place timing.

"We'll regroup at the Marauder," Hunter's voice comes through your comm, strapped to your wrist. Tech is the first to reply, mumbling a swift, "affirmative," before returning his full focus to his blasters. He is, as always, quick and precise with them, saving ammunition until he's certain that his shot will be a hit - a trait that he's picked up from one of his brothers.

One by one, the droids fall, and whilst this is child's play, you seem to be struggling.

There's a pain in your chest, a weight, gripping at your lungs and crushing them from the inside out. Your hands, often steady with your weapon, are jittering more and more as every moment passes. And your throat fails to relax, causing your breaths to become shorter, faster, until your head begins to spin from lack of oxygen.

Knowing that you need a moment - a brief moment to set your bearings straight - you duck behind a crate and press your back up against it, barely looking up to watch Tech finish off what's left of your opponents.

This brief moment blurs on for an eternity, and the more that time passes, the worse you become. Your knees come up to press against your chest, palms gripping onto your weapon, as if it's somehow going to steady you during this emotional ride. The sound of your name being called out to you fades from your ears, and a ringing takes its place.

That is, until a firm hand finds your shoulder, and you flinch.

"Oh," Tech sighs, his fingers flexing shut as he watches your eyes meet his. Reddened cheeks, wide pupils, tears threatening to spill from your waterline - something isn't right, but it doesn't take a genius like Tech to realise that.

Rather than placing his hand on you again, Tech speaks your name in a soft tone. "Are you alright?" he brings the important question to light, and from your silent response, he takes it that the answer is no.

Once more, Tech mutters your name, and he's extremely cautious as he gently wraps his hand around your bicep, attempting to offer you some form of stability. "Are you hurt?" Tech questions, and to his surprise, you manage to shake your head.

"Alright," Tech nods, calm and patient. He pauses, his eyes wandering over your form, analysing the state that you're in. By now, you're sobbing, but there's still a washed glisten of fear in your vision, as if you're staring down at your worst nightmare - an imaginary ghost that he cannot see.

Tech crouches down, positioning himself on one knee by your side. His thumb subconsciously begins to rub back and forth against your arm. "I think I understand what's happening," Tech comments. "Although, I do not know how to help. If I can be of any assistance, then please, inform me how."

Sniffles fill the air after you suck in a few deep breaths. "I don't know," your words merge into one, but Tech manages to make them out.

"We need to remove you from this environment," Tech decides, forming the first steps of his recovery mission. "May I take your hand?" he offers.

Tech's heart softens out as you slide your hand into his, allowing him to pull you up with ease. You're a jittering mess, that much is obvious as Tech wraps your arm around his, and begins guiding you out of this hellhole. Thank the Maker that your opponents are down, else that would only worsen things.

"Our safest place is the Marauder. Are you comfortable with me comming Hunter, and asking him to pick us up?"

You instantly nod, knowing that the Marauder brings you a feeling of warmth and security. "But I don't want the others to see me like this," you blurt out, and Tech simply nods his head with understanding.

"Of course," he confirms. "I will lead us onto the shuffle, and keep the others distracted whilst you retreat to your private quarters. I'll inform the others that you need assistance, but sway them from interfering. From there, I'll join you, and we will set our next steps to recovery."

Tech follows up his plan with a simple, "how does that sound?" and lets out a pleasant hum when you agree to it. From there, his plan begins springing into motion, and before you know it, the Marauder is coming into your line of sight with the cockpit door lowered.

As always, Wrecker is waiting at the doorway with his hand extended, always eager to help you on board, but Tech politely pushes past and begins muttering something under his breath. Through Wrecker's fully armoured form, you can tell that he's taken aback, but backs off unquestionably, allowing you to scurry past and disappear down the hallway.

The second that you reach your dorm, the downpour of your tears breaks out into a thunder, and you barely manage to shrug off your coat and shoes before curling up into your bunk.

It takes Tech exactly twenty-three seconds before he's entering your dorm without a knock, seeing as you consented to it beforehand. "Oh dear," he coos as he enters, and his hand hovers over the lock before questioning, "shall I lock it?"

"No, thank you," you shake your head at the same time, and with it, Tech eases off.

A tall glass of water is placed on your bedside table, almost overflowing with how close the water is reaching the rim. Tech takes a seat beside you, and a hand comes to rest on your forearm. To his surprise, you shrug it off, only to wrap your hands around his waist in a desperate attempt for comfort. Tech accepts you, cradling you against his chest, hushing you in a soft tone.

"Let it all out," Tech coos, comforting you as the tears continue to fall. His hands stroke and grasp at your back, attempting to provide as much comfort as he can. Tech is somewhat familiar with this subject, although it's been a long time since he's ever had to support it, and an even longer time since he has received such support.

Tech's last occurrence was back when he was a Cadet. One of his fellow brothers broke down into a state of panic, and Tech, being the sweetheart that he has always been, could only hug them as the moment passed. 

Since the war broke out, it's rare to find a moment for your emotions to overspill, seeing as everyone is always up on their feet - Troopers and Jedi alike. You’re no stranger to the sight of seeing men hunched over at the end of battle, their form exhausted, stress lines present on their skin, and a look of desperation in their eyes. Perhaps they have also noticed that in you. 

The hard form of Tech's chest armour lies pressed against your cheek, and only when your panicked state starts to relax, do you realise how uncomfortable the plastoid surface is. With an uncomfortable expression, you move your head away, gazing up at Tech with tear filled eyes.

"It appears my armour has left its mark," Tech comments, earning a soft laugh from you.

"Remind me to never cry into your armour again," you swat back. Your hand trails over the indent left on your cheek, and for whatever reason, that pulls you from your dark thoughts.

Warm eyes meet yours, still laced with concern, his brows raised accordingly. “I will bear it in mind, if the… incident ever occurs again.” 

“I hope it doesn’t,” you state with a sigh. The sides of your fists come up to rub your eyes, attempting to fresh the life up in them. “I’m sorry you had to see that,” you apologise, your hands now finding comfort in your lap, fingertips fidgeting with each other.

“Do not apologise,” Tech responds with sternness. “Please, I will never accept your apology for something like that.” 

You can’t help but let out a chuckle. “Message received,” you say with a smile. “Let’s just hope it doesn’t happen again.” 

“And if it does, you know I will always be here to assist you. I am… no stranger to what just happened,” Tech explains, his eyes drifting from yours as his shoulders soften. Now, you’re no longer the saddest person in the room. 

“Care to share?” you question. 

“Ah, well-” Tech waves his hands as his back straightens. “It is not my information to share, but I can inform you that I have seen this happen before. Multiple times, really. Being a Cadet was never easy…” 

Your hand comes to rest on his forearm, a gesture that is not left unnoticed. “I’m sorry,” is all you can sigh. 

“Did I not just inform you to never apologise for such things?” Tech responds in a firm tone, yet there’s a playful smile on his lips. You mimic his expression, soon letting out a laugh. Tech’s hand rests atop of yours, giving you a firm squeeze before suggesting, “shall we go and see the others? Wrecker especially looked awfully concerned about you.” 

“Yes,” you agree with a nod. “I wouldn’t want to keep any of them worrying. I’m alright now.” 

“That, you are,” Tech confirms. He rises to his feet, and offers you a hand. You accept it, steadying yourself on uneven legs, your muscles still relaxing after a storm of negativity. 

Before exiting your dorm, Tech lets out a soft, “do not forget your water,” as he holds the door open for you. A glass of water in hand, and you head out to regroup with your squad, your friend close behind, always ready to have your back - if you ever need it.

[pianocat939]

I stumbled across your blog, and from one writer to another you make excellent work. So I bring you this.

*sips tea*

Three words:

Sick

Yandere

Turtles

In the episode “Down with the Sickness” there’s a stage where the patient becomes very and I mean VERY affectionate, (it was the Captain Cuddle-Cakes stage if I remember correctly) I rewatched the entire series and I couldn’t stop thinking about this when I watched this episode.

Like imagine them getting all needy for affection and attention while the reader is taking care of them. The shenanigans would be unreal.

—————

You started to sweat under the hazmat suit still confused as to how they managed to get anything done in these things. For once Donnie’s insistent medical procedures came to your rescue, because all four of the turtles managed to come down with the infamous “Rat Flu”.

You remembered how the illness came with several stages, one of which being the Must-Say-Yes stage (as Leo called it). If you could manage to not get sick, you could finally be free from this nightmare.

“[Name]~”

“What is it Leo?” You groaned, somehow the slider managed to be more needy while sick.

“Can you come into my arms so I can be whole again, Mi Vida?~”

It was going to be a long day

—————

- 🫖 Anon

I shouldn't be taking this since requests are closed but um

Tw: MC gets hit into a wall but no major head injury, forced cuddles at the end-, mostly turtaleles begging for affection

Sickly in Love

Ok, so the five of you are trying not to get sick with the rat flu. With only the biohazard suits made by Donnie as your only protection.

So far, everything is great, until Leo decides to be a little idiotic and not keep his suit on. Which ended in him getting ill.

He's locked in the quarantine area with his only companion an empty space. He complains endlessly about the heat, which is ironic considering he's a reptile.

And before you know it, he hits stage 2.

While the others go off and attempt to contain Splinter, you're stuck with a red-eared slider who is absolutely in love with you.

——————————————————

"Mi cariño~ won't you come closer? I want us to hold hands." He calls, his palm scraping against the plastic barrier.

"No, Leo. You might infect me if I do." You retort, scrolling through your phone.

He pushes himself against the temporary wall harder, wanting to be closer to you. "Oh but if I infect you, we can cuddle and give each other love!”

“Mh yeah but the group might need me so…No.”

Leo whines in response, clearly unhappy with the situation. He can’t help it! He wants to be held and adored by you so desperately! He longingly stares at you through the transparent cage, the urge to cry swallowing his entire being.

Just then, Donnie barges through the tunnel or rather thrown. He lands clumsily on the floor, a bit shocked by the impact. He groans in pain, rubbing his arm.

"Quick! Get 'em in there!" Raph commands, carrying Mikey in one arm. He then dashes off, escaping from the murderous rat behind him.

You lightly guide Donnie to the containment area, unsure of what else to do. Right before you open the zipper, he snatches the end of your sleeve, his eyes narrowed in disbelief. "I am not sick thank you, I just happen to- achoo!" He's interrupted by a high-pitched sneeze, his body hunched from the sudden action.

Skeptically, you move an eyebrow muscle; unamused by his statement. "Mh yeah, let's get you inside." You reveal the entrance, gesturing for him to enter.

Once he's inside, he shivers, rapidly rubbing his limbs. "Ugh, it's freezing in here..."

Leo snickers from a distance, pointing a finger at him, "That's the first stage kicking in!" He turns back to stare at you, hearts practically floating from him.

"So...Who would you rather have as your significant other, me or Donald?" Donald Duck Leo inquires, still pressed up against the barrier.

"Ronald McDonald. This situation is only getting worse."

"Wha- EXCUSE ME? I'm obviously the better choice than some ketchup clown!"

As Leo rages about how he's the superior one, Donnie stops shivering, his eyes blank. He glances up at you, holding his knees to his chest. He rocks back and forth a little, seemingly pondering about something.

"Donnie? You good?"

"Did I ever tell you about the time I hacked into your enemy's bank account? I took vengeance for you." He smiles slightly, tapping his feet against the floor.

"I- what? Who?"

Donnie breaks out into a psychotic grin, emotion waving through him. "Your enemy~ The ones who hurt you!"

"The fact you're grinning either means you're really happy or a maniac. I'm scared it's a mix of both."

"Why wouldn't I be happy? I protected you from those evil, disgusting heathens!"

Offended, Leo hisses, "Donnie back off! They're mine, you weirdo nerd!" He claws at the plastic, wanting to engage in a fight with his brother.

"Please no. Leo, don't hit the 3rd stage I'm begging you."

And as if things couldn't get worse Raph walks in, his walk agonizingly slow. "Ugh...Gettin' sick is not fun."

You frown, realizing the situation is much direr than expected. "That means Mikey is the only one left. Maybe I should leave to go help out." You ponder to yourself, grimacing a little when Raph collapses into his little chamber.

“No! You’re not leaving me! You’re staying right here with me!” Leo pounds against the transparent wall, angered by the statement.

Donnie whimpers, “What? No, don’t leave me! I get anxious if you do!” He taps his feet faster than before, his stims taking over.

“But if I don't go help Mikey, then you guys will have no chance of getting what you want!"

"Y/n, you listen to me right now. I don't care if we won't win if it means you'll stay. Now come here before I try to destroy everything." Leo hisses out, stomping his food and starting to hit the flexible barrier, trying to break it.

You look in the direction where Mikey is dealing with Splinter and back to Leo and Donnie who both stare at you longingly: one of aggravation and the other of fear. You can't deny, their faces make you want to calm them down so you sigh and sit next to their individual quarantine enclosures.

"You guys are seriously going to be the death of me..."

The two turtles only chirp and churr joyfully as they sit as close as possible to you (while still in their enclosures).

"Sweets! C'mere! I want snuggles please!"

You hear Raph exclaim as he motions for you to come closer to him, and you form a slight frown on your face realizing that Raph has already advanced to the 2nd stage in such little time.

"Raph, you know I can't. You're contagious."

He makes dejected whines from his throat as he presses his face against the wall, pouting with puppy eyes.

"Please...?"

"No, sorry Raph-" But you were interrupted by Donnie who sneered at his elder brother, "Stop it. You're making me want to gag at this lovey-dovey affection you're begging for." You give a short, small glare at the scientist, not enjoying his sudden cruelty. Looks like he's forwarded to the 3rd stage.

"I don't care...I only care for cuddles and kisses from you sweets!" Despite Donnie's harsh comment Raphie seems to bounce right back up and ignore him, which was quite unusual for the watchful turtle. For a split second, you look at Leo's area and notice he's sleeping on the floor soundly, occasionally letting out a small snore.

"Hey, hey! Your attention should be on me! Not him!"

As you were about to turn your head back to the big guy, a sudden weight crashed into you, slamming you against the wall.

"Agh!" You yelp, wincing at the throbbing pain in your head that came soon after you were hit. "What the..." You were then met with the youngest one, Mikey, snuggling into your abdomen with a grin on his face.

"I love you so much, my divinity!"

And before you know it, all four brothers are surrounding you (Leo somehow woke up out of nowhere) with smiles so big it's unnerving.

"We all love you so much,"

"And we think it's best~"

"If you stayed with us forever,"

"So that you can always be happy!"

You then find yourself in an enclosure of your own, except this time it's not for quarantine; no, your enclosure was their arms that wrapped around you so tightly, not letting you escape for freedom.

——————————————————

This was sitting in my drafts for a long time so I decided to just finish it and get it over with- so the ending might be rushed. Apologies.

- Celina

[sweetkingdomstarlight-blog]

sedated

Pairing - Frank Castle x Female Reader

Words - just over 4.4k

Warnings - mild description of injuries, alcohol, mentions of blood, guns, mild drug (weed) use, nipple stimulation, fingering

a/n - Well hello there (said in an Obi Wan voice), I've got a fic for you. Written for @sweeterthanthis bittersweet symphony challenge, I stole the prompt "Trust me girl, you wanna be high for this" and created this little thing. I have to thank @samwilsonsthunderthighs for helping me out with some research and to Lau and @navybrat817 for encouraging me along the way. I really like this so if you do to let me know. Divider by the wonderful @firefly-graphics

I wake up suddenly, my heart pounding in my chest and panic rising through me. I listen carefully for another sound and slide my hand down my side, wrapping my fingers around the cold, hard metal of the baseball bat left there by my best friend when I moved in six months ago.

I slowly slide out of bed and pull on some leggings and slippers as quietly as the creaky floorboards beneath me will allow. The noise coming from my kitchen has quietened but I can definitely hear someone down there, rummaging through my things. It’s absolutely typical that this happened the one night I leave my phone on the sofa, I didn’t want to be woken by an alarm and now my one lifeline feels a million miles away.

Sneaking slowly into the bathroom opposite me I frantically look around, my eyes landing on a large bottle of hairspray and my brain quickly remembering all the times I’ve caught myself in the eyes while I’ve been distractedly chatting and getting ready at the same time.

It’ll have to do.

If I get murdered in this apartment that would sum up my pathetic life, I moved here after finding out my shithead of an ex was cheating on me and thought this would be a fresh start. I thought the area was nice, a little too quiet for my taste but exactly what I needed after finding the person who claimed to love me balls deep inside our neighbour.

I listen out for signs, anything, that tells me I might know the person currently pulling out the drawers in my freezer but I come up with nothing, I need to somehow get past them and get to my phone before they realise I’m here, I’m brave but I’m not stupid. 

I hop down each step, avoiding the spots that I’ve mapped out in my head as making noise until I’m at the bottom. The anxiety taking over my body makes me feel sick and I have to take some deep breaths before I pass out from the fear.

I can see the broken glass on the tiled floor of my kitchen and feel the chill of the night air as it pours in without restriction. I almost forget about the intruder until I hear them clear their throats, “I’m not gonna hurt ya, I just need to patch myself up then I’m gone.” I let out a pathetic shriek and stumble backwards, watching as the shadow of my nightmares comes closer, revealing itself to be a man, holding one of my dishcloths to his side and wincing in pain with every step.

Like a victim in a bad horror movie, my back hits the wall with a thud and there’s nowhere else to go, I throw the hairspray bottle at him and hold up the bat in my shaky hands, curiously he doesn’t come any closer and holds his stance, watching me with his head slightly tilted to one side. He didn’t even flinch when the bottle struck his shoulder, bouncing off him and landing on the floor between us with a thud. “Who are you? Why are you in my house?”

He holds up his hands and my eyes are drawn to the blood, slowly dripping out what seems like a gash and staining the waistband of his jeans. “I’m not here to hurt you, I didn’t think anyone was home and I needed to patch myself up.” He presses the cloth back on the wound and watches me closely, “Do you have any vodka? I could do with cleaning this up and taking the edge off.”

I’ve watched too many true crime documentaries to relax around him but somehow he’s making me feel more at ease. “In the freezer, top shelf, behind the veggies.” He turns his back on me a second later, clearly not seeing me as a threat, and reopens the freezer. I can hear him pouring out two glasses and get a shock when he reappears with one of them and holds it out in front of him, gesturing for me to take it, “You need a drink, probably more than I do right now.” Of course he’s used my Disney tumblers, I see the smiling face of Belle in yellow dress and wish for a moment I was one of those people who were a little more classy and had crystal glasses or something. “Come on now, you’ve got good liquor, we can’t let that go to waste.”

I drop my guard for a moment and take the drink from him, keeping a tight grip on the bat in case I need to swing it in his direction. He walks back into the kitchen and I follow behind him, he stands at the furthest point away from me but watches me closely as I take a seat on the stool at my breakfast bar, the bat leaning against my leg, and just watch him. He looks like he’s been in a nasty fight if the marks on his knuckles are anything to go by, I can already tell he’s struggling with patching himself up and I have to fight the urge to take over and help him out.

He takes a sip from his own drink, the matching Beast glass making me smile to myself before he tries to wash the area with vodka straight from the bottle. “Do you even know what you’re doing over there?” The words leave my mouth before I can stop them and I don’t miss the amused smirk that crosses his face, “I’ve been fixing myself up for years, I think I can handle it.” I hold my hands up and nod my head slowly, watching him closely and lean in to study his technique, his chest and arms are covered with marks and scars, some old and some new, every one of them probably tells the story of a life someone like me couldn’t even imagine.

It’s impressive that he can clean himself up so well and something in the back of my head reminds me that he’s done this before, therefore he’s probably not someone I should have in my house but he doesn’t have a bad vibe. 

That’ll probably be written on tombstone when all of this is over.

I clear my throat and point towards the small cupboard to the left of him, telling him there’s a decent first aid kit in there that he can use, wincing as he pushes the roll of kitchen towel away leaving behind the bright red fingerprints that will stain my memory when I think back to this night in the future.

Once he’s finished and cleaned up after himself he pours us both another drink, downing it and pointing to the window, “Sorry about that, you got anything I can patch it up with? I’ll pay to have it replaced.” I turn in my seat and look at the shattered glass, I’ve been so focused on the stranger drinking my Belvedere I didn’t even feel the cold but now that he’s mentioned it its all I can focus on. A quick online search doesn’t provide me with many answers so we decide between us to put an old blanket up and secure it with duct tape.

Before I can admire our patch up job the doorbell sounds, it’s four in the morning and there aren’t many people who have my address. This can mean one of two things, next doors dog has gotten out again or its my ex. I take a deep breath and turn to leave the room but a firm hand on my shoulder forces me to stop and turn, “Don’t answer it, no good ever comes from answering a door at 4am.”

I don’t get time to agree with him before I hear the shit-stain I call an ex shouting through the door and banging on the frame with his fist. “You want me to answer it? Scare him off for you?” I smile at him and shake my head, scrunching my nose and telling him I can handle it. I think he’s going to follow me but instead he leans against the counter and drinks the vodka from my glass as I walk away.

A huge part of me wants to ignore the man child on the other side of my door but if he wakes my neighbours up I’ll never hear the end of it and I really like living here. I slowly open the door and look up at him, “What are you doing here?” A slow, lazy smile crosses his face and the stench of alcohol rolls off his breath as he speaks, “I missed you, let me in baby I’ll show you how much.” Disgust rolls over me and I shake my head, chuckling and asking him to leave, instead of being a decent person he takes a step forward, trying to get into my house. “Look I was trying to be polite but you need to get the fuck out of here before I show you how my Krav Maga lessons have been going lately.”

“Ooh such a tough girl now aren’t you, where was all that sass when I had to come and rescue you that time your car broke down, or even that time you lost your friends on a night out? Come on let me in and you can show me what I’ve been missing.” I hear the footsteps behind me, strong and determinded, “Hey, you coming back to finish the movie?” He opens the door wide and I watch as he looks my unwelcome visitor up and down with a barely contained sneer, “Do you know what fucking time it is? You interrupted movie night now fuck off.”

I should feel pissed off that he felt the need to come and save me but the silent rage that pours out of my little kitchen invader seems to get the message across perfectly and it doesn’t take long before he starts to retreat. I thought that would be the end of it but I hear him whisper something about me being a slut and my feet move before my brain can stop me, he turns around just in time for me to land a punch against his jaw and a knee between his legs. The noise he makes satisfies me more than it should but watching him walk away, clutching his junk in his hand and calling me a fucking bitch is all the satisfaction I’m going to need tonight.

I turn back and look at the amused expression of the man who leans against my doorframe, “You’re going to break something if you keep punching like that, I thought you did Krav Maga?” I shake my head and giggle, “Never took a lesson in my life but it sounds good doesn’t it.”

It’s 6:30am and I’ve been learning how to punch for over an hour now. Frank, as I learned he was called after an embarrassingly long time in my house, has been teaching me some basic self defence moves. He’s a really good teacher and honestly I think I might actually start taking a self defence class up once everything is back to normal. We’ve created a weird mannequin out of my sofa cushions and its worked really well up until now but Frank wants me to punch him in the face so I get the idea of how it feels when you do land a blow. He’s been goading me and trying to get me to do it for about ten minutes now but I’ve never hit someone before and I hope never to have to in the future but he’s insistent.

The doorbell rings again and this time I’m ready, I’m not going to let him get a word in I’m just going to punch him in the face the correct way this time, show Frank that he’s a good teacher. I march quickly to the door and open it without checking and freeze on the spot when the barrel of a gun is pointed directly at me.

It all happens too quickly, an explosion of pain followed by an intense burning sensation before I hit the floor and the world goes black.

I wake up on my bathroom floor, the first thing I notice is the ball of hair in the corner that I didn’t sweep up the last time I cleaned up in here. When was that? Yesterday? I don’t even know what day it is anymore. I try to sit up but I’m greeted with a pain in my shoulder so intense I feel sick and a headache like a hostile squatter, occupying every space available. “You’re ok, just take it easy for me.” I recognise the voice but can’t picture the face of the owner, my eyes are still blurry and the light on the ceiling above only further obscures my vision. “You got shot but it went straight through, I need to patch you up but trust me girl, you’ll wanna be high for this.”

I slowly sit up and take a sip of the ice cool water offered to me and take the blunt that was previously sat in the ashtray on my coffee table, “Frank?” He doesn’t speak and instead lights it up and holds it out, I take it without saying another word and let the effects take over me. The pain still takes my breath away but the panic I should be feeling right now isn’t as strong. He wasn’t lying when he was cleaning himself up, he really is good at this and in no time at all I’m bandaged up and ready to try standing again.

This time is a lot more successful and I manage to get myself to my room, wincing when I lay down and pull the covers over me, Frank disappears for a moment and comes back with some pain relief and a cushion to put under my shoulder. He sits on the edge of the bed, pushing my hair out of my face, I notice some new bruising and cuts to the back of his hand but don’t question it, instead smiling up at him, trying to ease the guilt written all over his face, “I’m ok, you don’t have look so serious.” He lets out a long breath and runs his finger slowly down my face, trying to hold back a smile as he looks at me with an unexpected intensity, “I see the tough girl made a reappearance, get some sleep and you can punch me in the face later. Don’t think I’ve forgotten where we left things.”

It’s my turn to laugh now and the sound seems to physically relax him, I watch his shoulders drop and his jaw loosen before he stands up and turns to leave, “Can you stay?” He looks over his shoulder at me, his eyebrow cocked at me in surprise. “It’s been a long night and honestly sleeping alone doesn’t feel like a nice option right now.” I expect him to lay down beside me but instead he pulls up the chair from the corner of my room, placing the clothes I should have put away weeks ago on the floor and making himself comfortable.

My dreams are plagued with images, my ex, the gun, the bright light of my bathroom and the fresh bruising on the hand that patched me up so gently. I startle myself awake and look around the room, my heart only calming down once I realise I’m in my own bed and I’m safe. I hear a light snore and watch Frank for a moment as he sleeps with a little smile on his face, I briefly wonder what makes him happy before my bladder announces itself and shuffle my way out of bed, I don’t make it out of the room before Frank is up and telling me he can get me whatever I need, “Unless you plan on peeing for me I think I’ll handle this on my own.”

The person I see in the bathroom mirror is a bit of a shock, my eyes are bloodshot from the lack of sleep, my hair is doing the complete opposite of what I’d like it to be doing and I can see dark blood on the bandage that clearly needs changing. I decide to brush my teeth and wash my face the best I can with only one fully functioning hand, it’ll have to do for now at least I no longer have sleep crusties in the corner of my eye.

Frank isn’t in the bedroom so I quickly pull on my dressing gown and slippers and go to find him, hearing him swearing at my beloved coffee maker and judging by the squeak of the cupboard doors, looking for a coffee cup. I sneak up and press the power button, bringing the machine to life and startling the wannabe barista, “So wounds you can patch up just fine, but coffee machines leave you confused?” He throws a dish cloth at me and tells me to sit down so he can make me breakfast, I grab the painkillers and swallow some down before painfully explaining in detail how to use the machine he’s done nothing but complain about.

He’s still moaning like an old man while he gets comfortable on the stool next to me but stops as soon as he tastes the smooth Colombian blend I insist on buying from the small coffee store I found when I moved here. I put some music on for us and we eat the pancakes he makes in a content silence, only speaking to each other once we’re done and arguing about who fills the dishwasher up, I let him win but only because its the one job I hate to do.

Frank insists that I spend the day resting on the sofa and he’s taken to waiting on my every need, its funny but I know it comes from a place of guilt. I keep seeing him out of the corner of my eye just watching me, it’s very tempting to act up and pretend I’m in more pain than I am but he looks so guilty already. “Hey, you know I’m going to have to come up with a really good excuse for having a hole in my shoulder. I was thinking I tell people I went to Spain over the weekend and ran with the bulls but wasn’t fast enough. What do you think?”

The look on his face right now is a cross between incredulity and confusion which is not only hilarious but necessary to get him to relax for a second, “You know, I’m not sure anyone is gonna believe that. Why don’t you just tell them you broke your shoulder and we’ll get you a sling, much more believable.” I pretend I’m contemplating his excuse for a second, tapping my finger against my lips as I ‘think’ and watching him carefully, “Ok, that could work but alternatively how about I was on the roof investigating a weird noise and fell off, landing on one of Santa’s reindeers getting impaled on an antler?”

He covers his face with his hand and shakes his head, moaning out a no and peeking at me through his fingers, “Of all the houses to pick I had to find the comedian didn’t I.” I smirk at him and waggle my brows, “I mean you could take yourself across the street to the guy who walks his ferret if you prefer? I’ll pretend I’m not offended.”

The look on his face changes and he leans in slightly, placing his finger on my cheek and slowly moving it down to my jaw while he watches me, “I like the view here, even if its a little on the crazy side.” I smile at him and lean in to press my lips against his, he doesn’t protest so I look up at him and smile, melting into his hold as he cups my face in his hands and leans in to kiss me deeply.

The weird position I’m in sends a sharp pain down my arm and I try to hold back my reaction but he’s more intuitive than I give him credit for, I pout as he pulls away from me and try to pull him back by his t-shirt but instead he helps me get more comfortable and kisses me on the forehead, “You’ll never get better if you’re always moving it, trust me I’m an expert in this shit.” I think he’s going to sit next to me again and leave me hanging but he surprises me by moving between my legs and kneeling.

I stare at him, licking my lips and using my good hand to run my fingers through his hair, “The sofa is a lot more comfortable than the floor I hope you know that Frankie.” He hangs his head and his whole body shakes as he holds back his laugh, I lift his chin with two of my fingers to make him look at me, “Seriously, I have cushions galore here don’t punish yourself.”

“Would you stop talking, I have an effective way to take your mind off it.” He runs his hands up my thighs, settling on my hips as he watches my face. “Oh what’s that then? Do you know massage?” I watch his face as he shakes his head in exasperation, hanging his head and chuckling, “So, no massage then?”

He looks up at me with his tilted to one side, “You know I was planning on making you feel really good but if you don’t stop running that mouth of yours I’ll just go get you some painkillers instead.” He looks deep in my eyes, a slight smirk crosses his mouth as I shift slightly in my seat. Instead of answering him with something sarcastic that could potentially ruin the moment, no matter how strong the urge is, I grab the hand currently holding my hip and bring his fingers to my mouth, licking them slowly before wrapping my lips around them and sucking.

The look of shock on his face is quickly replaced with an open mouth and a quiet moan, he takes over and begins to push his fingers in and out before withdrawing them and holding them up to the light, “Got em all wet for me, what should we do with them now?” He rests his other hand on my pelvis, his thumb rubbing circles into a spot that’s a little too high for where I really want it to be. I try to circle my hips, desperate for friction right where I need it but he’s onto me and stops, sitting back on his heels and watching me. “All you gotta do is ask and I’ll give you whatever you need.”

I’m not often rendered speechless but there’s something about the way he’s looking at me, mixed with the throbbing at my core that’s making me hold my tongue. If he senses that I’m a mess he doesn’t say anything and instead sits down next to me again, looking deep into my eyes before kissing me again. This time his hand doesn’t stop exploring, he softly traces the outline of my nipple causing me to moan under my breath, “Say the word and I stop.” I shake my head and adjust in my seat, hoping his hand will go further south.

Instead he spends what feels like a lifetime just teasing and pinching them, the shots of electricity straight to my clit, “Frank please.” Almost as if he was just waiting for me to say something he moves his hand lower, I open my legs and rest my head back against the sofa.

He slaps my pussy and cups it, running his middle finger over the soaked fabric and whispering in my ear, “Can you feel how wet you are? Is all that for me?” I moan in response and grip his wrist, holding his hand in place and grinding my hips against his fingers, “Atta girl, doing such a good job.”

I don’t hold back, moaning out loud and tilting my head to the side so he can kiss my neck. He shakes his hand free and pulls my underwear to one side, sinking two fingers inside me and pumping them in and out, “Just relax, let me take care of you.”

It’s been so long since anyone has touched me like this and it feels incredible, the sounds he kisses me, swallowing the sounds I make as his fingers rub over the sensitive spot inside me that my ex always claimed didn’t exist. It’s not long before I’m moaning louder, bucking my hips to meet his hand as his fingers move in and out of me. I run my fingers through his hair with my good hand and pull at the root as I cum for the first time in too long, watching as he slowly brings his fingers to his mouth and sucks them clean, “Feel better now?” I can’t form words just yet so I nod and smile, resting my head against his chest as I giggle to myself for letting this almost stranger do that for me.

He lets me have my moment, stroking his hand up and down my back and kissing the top of my head, “This might be the quietest you’ve been since I crashed into your life, if I knew all it would take was an orgasm I’d have been on my knees from the beginning.” That makes me laugh even more, the movement shooting shards of pain into my shoulder and causing me to wince. It didn’t go unnoticed and Frank was quickly helping me sit back in my seat, getting me a drink and making sure I was comfortable.

I didn’t miss the way he had to readjust himself as he stood and I bit the inside of my lip to stop the smug grin that was threatening to burst free. “You know Frank if you need to sort yourself out the shower is all yours.” He turns and flips me off, shaking his head and heading to the kitchen, I might have to keep him around for a little while longer.

[boowhumps]

|WHUMPRIL 2023|

|Day 5 ~ Defiance|

(@whumpril)

⚠TW⚠

- Torture

- Broken Bone/s

- Swearing

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

Raw screams crawled up my throat as the whip came down on my back, barely missing my wings.

My eyes were shut tightly, yet small tears still managed to escape and fall down my face.

The whip came down again.

And again.

And again.

What was I doing? Was I really going to take this?

I can't- no, I won't take this.

I held my breath as the whip came down once again. As soon as I felt the whip off my back, I used every bit of strength to flip around and I somehow managed to catch the whip before it hit me.

Once it was in my shakey grip I yanked and threw it far behind me. I scrambled up and backed up away from her.

Those green eyes stared at me, craving nothing but my pain. My suffering.

I gasped for air as she only stared at me. I now only realized how powerless I was against her. I had nothing to protect myself with.

Her stare only proved my point as she raised her arm up.

In the blink of an eye she threw me against the wall. The air was knocked out of me and I crumples to the floor.

I had no strength to get up, even as I heard her footsteps approaching. My body shook as it tried to get up but her boot on my back forced me back down.

"Fighting back? Hm.. That was your first mistake." She hummed.

She grabbed ahold of my hair and yanked my head up so it was no longer pressed into the floor.

I struggled in her grip, trying desperately to escape. I could only imagine how pathetic I looked.

"Clearly the whip hasn't taught you anything. Maybe.. This will get my message across that you do not disobey me." She said as she took ahold of one of my wings.

My heart stopped as I struggled even more. Small pleas left my throat as more tears fell down my face.

The grip on my wing tightened and I braced myself.

Both her hands gripped my wing, and I hear a crack and pain erupts through my wing.

A horrible scream leaves my throat as she lets go of my damaged wing, letting it drop to the ground.

She leaves me a sobbing, crumbled mess on the floor.

"Remember your place, VEA."

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

I shoot up, my eyes wide as I gasp for air. A sharp pain goes through my back, which forces me back down.

I stare up at the dark ceiling of my room. It reminds me that I'm here now, not there.

My head turns to the side as I see my bandaged wing laying limply off the side of the bed.

I sigh, just a nightmare.

I turn myself to the side so my injured wing is now laying across the top of my body, and my uninjured wing under me.

My wings automatically wrap around myself as I close my eyes and try to fall asleep again.

Luckily it doesn't take long considering how tired I am.

Before I fall asleep my mind reminds me of what I have to do

'Find her.'

'Make her pay for what she's done.'

'Kill Silva'

[clownxgirl]

The Rules of Decomposing

||MDNI || TW: Gore || Word Count: 1,415k ||

Airy brown particles sweep my face as I lay here paralyzed, inside my body but not in control. My chest hurts as each clump of dirt is thrown onto my body, the cold muck blanketing me inside of this hole. I watched my family cry over the top of me through the service, my lip twitched and my nose flared as I tried to get their attention, but to no avail. My heart raced as I knew my real end was coming, suffocation from the Earth’s dust that I’ll bite once more. I can almost feel the saliva in my throat burble up into a bubble shriek as it pops on the brink of my lips. I can already feel a worm graze my wrist with an unbound collection of what my body and mind are up to, alive and still warm. But not in reality, no, but in my soul that is still trapped here. Is this what hell feels like? Watching your body still move on with this Earth without you speaking, breathing, moving? I suddenly feel pain in my chest as the dirt compresses onto me, the weight of the world and dying all over again conflicts my thoughts.

To my surprise, I still laid here somewhat alive even after the dirt was stacked six feet above me, a wall to the outside or the wall to me is what I sit here debating. I reflect on my life as I lay here, my daughter’s laughter over the years fades into her tears dripping on me at the casket I was open to. I felt beautiful with the layers of foundation they filled my pores with, the eyeshadow my husband never let me wear, and the lipstick that made the dirt stick to me now. I wonder why they put me directly in dirt rather than my comfortable coffin, was it to defile me? To restrict me and continue my vulnerability to the elements as I did before in my life? Sitting here conflicting my thoughts over horrible theories after the last revolve around my husband, his desire to defile me even in death comes to mind. But my daughter would never allow me to be this way, to be put into the ground to meld with the elements. I felt this pressure in my stomach continuously through this, but to my surprise I remember not feeling it in the warm casket. It melded with me when I gained consciousness again to be hoisted by the cloth crane into my grave. I felt curious about this feeling, it felt like a foreign object and my curiosity killed me until I felt movement inside, a small wave so singular and small. I felt a wave of nausea as I felt more of those singular and small movements become a hive mind, wiggling and squirming along the inner part of my stomach with that pit, that seed, that.. And it hit me. My daughter came to me when she was sixteen, showing me a post online about having trees planted with your body so it can thrive off of the nutrients your body gives and it’ll blossom into a cherry tree. Her eyes were bright blue as she said this, feeling relieved from beauty beyond death that she can leave behind made my heart at the time feel content. But now, it was my biggest nightmare. The anxious pit in my stomach was not a pit at all, but a sapling of a tree sewed into my body and whatever remains it had of its prior existence outside of it. Worms, leaves, anything surrounding that plant was dug into my body like vines leeching off of a brick house. I’d grow roots through my throat, animals will take refuge in my womb as I continue to feed this tree into a child more life-sucking than a human baby. The mania racing around in my mind faster than the wiggling in my stomach can writh and strike with their movements. I’m not going to live through this, I won’t see my daughter again. The dirt continued to settle until it clogged my ears, sealed my eyes and my nose shut. The only sense I can comprehend is touch and internal hearing, my heartbeat and occasionally the settlement of the dirt rings through my head the loudest. I want to hear anything of music, anything of laughter, but the worms are somehow loud here but are silent above.

It’s been a few days now, I imagine. Not by my anticipation for the end, but by the resolution of how I can now smell my body through the dirt caked under my nose. My body is now stiff and getting colder and colder, the blankets of dirt now feel like the walk-in freezer at my first job, they insulate me with more muck than I can conjure in my head. My eyelids are now completely shut against the dirt and I’s will, but the rigor mortis I learned about in high school. I loved high school, but despised biology class. I remember dissecting the formaldehyde soaked frogs, feeling pity for them as I stuck my tweezers into their open chest. I wonder if that would hurt less to be alive for that instead of this slow aching demise.

The dirt has so much pressure on my body as I continue to expand. The pressure holds against my body ever so still which makes it that more painful. I could feel myself getting close to popping, to hitting that climax that I prayed for even when I was alive, fingering myself in the bathroom after my husband finishes. I can only think about the anger boiling and bloating in my heart and the rest of my body, simmering like an airtight mozzarella chunk in the Arizona sun. I can feel the air inside of me begin to release itself through every orifice. My ears constantly pop, I flatulate and excrete foam from my mouth with every involuntary sigh from my chest. Something is bubbling inside me far worse than the sapling, I can feel the warmth and movement grow faster and hungrier than my pregnancy with Rose.

I was completely wrong about being buried six feet, or being alone. I saw sunlight for the first time as I laid in the dirt. The white pumping friends I’ve obtained this past month can enjoy the sunlight with me as I’m met with the face of my savior. A patchy dog with vacant eyes unearths my leg first, nibbling on it for a few hours hacking at my flavor but not denying its virtues of protein. My whole body twists and turns internally as he feasts, but I relish in the pressure relief of my lower torso. As the day goes on, I’m accompanied by his friends again and again the more potent and light absorbed I get with each passing day. I’m of use again, giving back to nature even through my sorrow and my inevitable unwillingness to do so still enlightens me to keep looking forward to my future experiences. It’s easier for my skin to slough off the longer I’m in the sun. I find myself imagining a sunburn at a beautiful beach with each blister that boils like a cooking egg on a stove on my skin. It pops and gives me relief once more, like a cesspool orgasm producing liquids beyond my comprehension.

I’ve been unearthed for awhile, but the friends stopped coming after my discoloration came. I noticed my texture isn’t as delicious as before, my patchy friend attempted the other night to lick my calf clean of its contents but was met with a waxy texture that didn’t pick up any taste. My useful ability has halted for the ones I didn’t mind, and has now released back into the writhing white maggots that befriended me first. I’m becoming what my baby used to call dry skin ‘rasiny’. Her memory continues to ring in my head as I suddenly feel sleepy, as if I can rest for the first time in a little while. I feel the sensation of my eyes being closed as I lay there in the rain which moisturizes my body back to comfortability. The tightness of my skin dies down into a warm slushy, the dirt uncakes from my nose and I take my final physical breath into plunging into a deep sleep that takes me from my body.

[avawritesthings]

sleepy | jh86

[709 words] jack hughes x fem!reader

summary - in which jack is a horndog, even when asleep.

contents - smut

ava’s notes - first time posting my writing! i’m super nervous but super excited! i have other fics in the works but i’ve decided to post this first :) … i hope you guys enjoy!

masterlist

MOST PEOPLE DREAM when sleeping.

Some even have nightmares. 

Jack? No…no…he fucks in his sleep. 

Ever since you moved in together into a new apartment, and shared the same bed every night, like clockwork, Jack would start to stir and press his semi-hard length into your sleeping body. 

You, of course, wake up because you’re used to it by now. And usually you wouldn’t mind, but he had invited you to join him and his family to spend the summer at the lake house. 

Who were you to say no?

You and his brothers were simply separated by thin walls that didn’t keep in any sounds. One day, you had heard Quinn and Luke arguing in Quinn’s bedroom, and you could make out every word that was said. 

But Jack? He wasn’t affected by the change in circumstances. No, he, yet again, subconsciously pulled you into his warm embrace and rutted his dick into your ass. 

His hot breath was heavy on the back of your neck as he held you from behind. Hands started to wander underneath your shirt - his shirt - until he felt the swell of your breasts. 

You could feel his cock slightly twitch from under his shorts. His hand eventually made its way lower…and lower until he reached the hem of your panties. 

Ditching your underwear, at least for sleeping, sounded like a great idea from now on. From how often he does this, they’re just an obstacle. 

You bit down on your lip and he shoved your panties to the side and started to rub on your clit. Without warning, Jack slipped a finger into your wet cunt and you lightly gasped. He smirked, and you could somehow feel it. 

You weren’t even sure if he was still asleep or awake at this point. His finger curled and he added another finger. It felt too good to stop, but you knew that if he continued, you’d end up caught and the relentless teasing would ensue. 

As one hand fondled your breasts, the other one was occupied with your pussy. 

“Shhhh,” he whispered. He had to have been awake by now. You tried to wiggle away, but with how strong he was, you only managed to somehow get his fingers even deeper. 

Jack rutted his hips against your ass yet again, and you could feel him thrusting into you. “Fuck,” he lowly whispered. 

“Jack,” you whispered out, but he ignored you. Repeating his name again, which seemed to turn him on even more, had him trying to get his boxers off. Once they were on the floor, Jack gently pulled his fingers out of you, and used your arousal as lube. 

You gasped when you felt the head of his cock line up with your entrance. As he stretched you out, you whimpered and covered your slack mouth with your hand. He just felt so good. 

“Shh baby, this house has thin walls. You gotta be quiet,” he purred out. His lips were sloppily kissing your neck and cheek while lazily thrusting into you. 

He kept hitting the right spot every time. You knew he was awake. 

“You need to keep quiet,” he moaned. His fingers left your breasts and dropped down to circle your tight bundle of nerves. 

“Fuck, Jack. Feels so good,” you mewled out, blubbering about how he felt so good and don’t stop. 

He could feel your climax approaching rapidly, and his thrusts suddenly started to get more of a reaction out of you. 

You bowed your head down and started to let out a moan, but Jack covered your mouth with his extra hand and muffled your noises. 

“You wanna come?” Nod. “Come with me, baby. Come on my cock like the good girl you are.” And with that, you clenched around his cock. He followed shortly after, emptying himself before slowly pulling out. 

You turned to face him, and his eyes were droopy with a lazy, fucked out smile on his lips. Pecking his lips, you embraced him and he wrapped his arms around your back, nestling his head into your neck. 

Your eyes caught the time. 2:48. Rolling your eyes, you smiled softly and went back to sleep. 

(No one caught you two, you naughty little horndogs.)

-

(like/reblog/comment/follow, if you want! if ur a little ghost reader, i appreciate u xo)

[dr-hidden-paradise]

Chapter 2 End..?

Vespar sighed, knowing that the events of late would have resulted in this meeting sooner or later. Leaning against the wall, the seer glanced over at the headmistress, the vice-principal noticeably absent from the office.

It was probably relatively nice before everything, but now? It seemed a little… lackluster given Hope’s Peak’s reputation. Even if he himself knew this was only a mimicry of what could have been.

She sat in a large ornately carved wooden chair, swivel somehow, Vespar noted. Her legs were crossed and she stared out the window, a glass once likely used for more special occasions now used as a mere chocolate milk receptacle in her hands.

“Luna. She will be out of commission for quite some time will she not?”

“…yes. I’m afraid she may be, if you may-“ he began, nervous and hesitant before being cut off.

“Then we must eliminate her from the game.”

‘What?! You- you can’t take just her out!”

“Calm yourself Vespar. We both know she cannot be killed, especially in a way that matters. But we both know how she was, first recovering from her…ailment. She was little more than a beast in a human form.”

“I know. I remember.. So then… what do you propose?” He asked, cringing at the memories four years ago.

“You recall Aelius… or Elio’s ability?”

“I.. I do. He can dream walk. I don’t see how that ties into this?” Vespar’s eyebrows furrowed in confused.

She let out a small tut before speaking, an unsettling smile on her face to anyone except perhaps the seer himself, “It seems you do not recall the full extent then. He can safely put someone to sleep indefinitely and speak to them in their dreams, even change the worst nightmares to the warmest dreams. It’s a good thing he’s relatively a nice person isn’t it? So very easy to murder with something like that.”

“…You want to put her in a coma?!” Came from Vespar, indignantly.

“Of course not. The sleep isn’t intended to harm Luna in the slightest, and Elio will be there for her as well if need be. The… magic? behind it should be very self-sustained. As long as Elio keeps monitoring her, she shouldn’t lose any sort of function, and perhaps it will soothe her mind better than anything Callum could.”

“…I see your point-“

“Good. You should.-“

“But I don’t see why this is necessary.”

“…You care deeply for Luna, I don’t blame you for your anxiety, but she is… volatile. To encourage her to continue to function normally in a state just as this? It makes her far too likely to snap, and we cannot have a massacre as such without a failed trial. Even I would not be safe I’m afraid. Keeping her contained for the time being would help both of us. Luna is still healing, and while she may have been excited at the idea at first, she got attached. Attached to the wrong person at the worst time. Setting her off would hinder the game, and break our current plane as it stands potentially. We cannot allow that to happen.”

“….I understand. I won’t keep arguing about you on this.”

“Good. I’m glad. You are after all, one of the two staff members I can truly say I can trust. Having unending your support is vital, Ves.”

The seer shook his head at the nickname, biting his lip before he continued, “Who… who is going to take over them?”

“For the executions? I’d say Konami has done wonderfully thus far, and Callum can regain his role as the class’ main teacher. Konami may be less refined than Luna, but xe can do xyr job well in the meantime I’m sure.”

“I see… then for a motive?”

“Figure it out yourself. I need to ensure things are safe on my end.”

He dipped his head again, almost subserviently, “I.. I understand. I’ll do my best. I promise I’ll try not to disappoint… may I see about the bracelets maybe?”

“You have my approval. Now I must go.” She said, before leaving swiftly.

Vespar nodded and hit the inside of his mouth before a serene smile fell onto his face as he gazed into the camera’s lens. into the camera’s lens. into the camera’s lens. into the camera’s lens. into the camera’s lens. into the camera’s lens. into the camera’s lens. into the camera’s lens.

Opening both of his eyes- the closed one purple to contrast the perpetually open green one, a faint glow came upon them as an uncomfortably familiar crimson liquid began to pour from the now open purple one.

“You know… you can stop watching now, puppeteers, though I do hope you’ve had fun so far,” Vespar nodded, waving to you, before he left the room as well with a wide grin on his face.

[haikyuu-boys-headcanons]

𝙷𝙰𝙸𝙺𝚈𝚄𝚄 𝙱𝙾𝚈𝚂 - 𝙴𝙼𝙱𝙰𝚁𝙰𝚂𝚂𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚂𝙴𝚇 𝙼𝙾𝙼𝙴𝙽𝚃𝚂

hehe, i’m back at it again with one of these long ass posts but this idea’s literally been in my head all day long so here you go !! obvious nsfw warning :)

tw: this whole post is just nsfw and embarrassing to read so read at your own risk >:)

𝙳𝙰𝙸𝙲𝙷𝙸 » during a super intense and loud session, his voice cracked as he asked you “does that feel goOD- good baby?” to this day, he still prays that you couldn’t hear him over the sound of your own moans

𝚂𝚄𝙶𝙰𝚆𝙰𝚁𝙰 » you were riding him and he went to slap your ass, but something went wrong either because you were riding too quickly or he was shaking too much, boy ended up slapping himself in the balls. you’ve never heard that boy scream that loud in your life

𝙰𝚂𝙰𝙷𝙸 » literally pulled out in the middle of sex to get up and rush to the corner of his room to flip around his childhood teddy bears. your just laying there with your tiddies and coochie out waiting for asahi to shield the eyes of mr. wiggles

𝚃𝙰𝙽𝙰𝙺𝙰 » you two were having pretty intense shower sex until tanaka did the number one thing your not supposed to do during shower sex; this muthafucker slipped while holding you. long story short, y’all were okay but just ended up having nasty shower floor sex??

𝙽𝙸𝚂𝙷𝙸𝙽𝙾𝚈𝙰 » this tiny ass 5′2 man was unconsciously humping your leg while you were both asleep?? his presumably pleasurable wet dream had turned into a sudden nightmare when you literally had to KICK him off you to stop the humping. bad nishinoya, bad!

𝙺𝙰𝙶𝙴𝚈𝙰𝙼𝙰 » came WAYYY too early inside you, but he was too embarrassed to say anything so he just... kept going. sadly, no one had warned kageyama of the intense effects of overstimulation. he was shaking and whimpering so badly behind you to the point where you had to ask him to pull out and bring him a glass of water to calm down

𝙷𝙸𝙽𝙰𝚃𝙰 » the first time you squirted on him, he just blatantly asked you these exact few words that left you feeling mortified: “did you just piss on me?” nuh uh hinata, this water fountain ain’t yours to drown in anymore >:( 

𝚃𝚂𝚄𝙺𝙸𝚂𝙷𝙸𝙼𝙰 » kei was hitting it from the back pretty hard this time, so hard that you were suddenly... on an angle? suddenly, now you two were much closer to the floor than before. the bed ended up collapsing, yes literally collapsing due to kei’s powerful thrusts. worst part is, nobody got to finish since kei dragged you to ikea to grumpily buy a new bedframe. but hey, he bought you ikea meatballs; that shit hits so different

𝚈𝙰𝙼𝙰𝙶𝚄𝙲𝙷𝙸 » one super duper intense night, he passed out the SECOND he came. no matter how much you flicked the temple of his forehead, yamaguchi was dead asleep. you had to literally slap him awake to get him to clean up, you ain’t risking a ranky stanky UTI puthy in the morning

𝙾𝙸𝙺𝙰𝚆𝙰 » kept calling himself a sex machine during the act. i don’t know if it was due to the 6 tequila shots he had beforehand or just his inner ego revealing, whatever it was it was about to make your pussy close

𝙸𝚆𝙰𝚉𝚄𝙼𝙸 » this one time, he kept going in at a weird angle which caused you to repeatedly queef for 7 minutes straight. every time you told him to pull out and go in properly, he laughed and kept going in at that one weird angle!! was your embarrassment a turn on for him?? maybe!! but were you mortified? absolutely!!

𝙼𝙰𝚃𝚃𝚂𝚄𝙽 » i’m sorry to have to be the one to announce this, but this man had the worst case of full blown bush you’ve ever seen. like, he didn’t even try to manscape or anything at all. you ended up begging him to trim just a tiny bit because you weren’t gonna risk choking on a pube whilst your going down on him

𝙷𝙰𝙽𝙰𝙼𝙰𝙺𝙸 » rubbed your left labia thinking it was your clit. and he kept doing that. the whole. fucking. time. even when you subtly moved his fingers towards your clit, he just kept going back to the left lip.

𝙺𝚄𝙽𝙸𝙼𝙸 » had the most dry and dull dirty talk you’ve ever heard. like, it’s not even dirty talk at this point; it’s just clean talk. there’s no passion when he talks! he uses the same tone he would use for anyone else at any other moment. to paint the picture, imagine riding kunimi and he’s just there with a furrowed expression like “yup, that feels really good”

𝙺𝚈𝙾𝚃𝙰𝙽𝙸 » tried to pull one of those unexpected anal scenes that he saw from a porno, without telling you beforehand. life lesson here; if you party at shit's house, don't be surprised if shit's at the party

𝙺𝚄𝚁𝙾𝙾 » you two were looking to get a little more kinky in terms of BDSM, so kuroo watched like 30 tutorials on youtube on how to safely tie you up so you won’t fall or anything. this bitch ended up tying rope knots that were practically impossible to undo, which resulted in you hanging from the ceiling for approximately 2 hours pussy-ass naked while kuroo tried to cut you down with a kitchen knife

𝙺𝙴𝙽𝙼𝙰 » wanted to spice things up with some dirty talk, like the real nasty talk they use in pornos but not the normal pornos; the shitty company ones with horrific acting. he really ended up announcing that he was going to “fuck your fucking fanny off, you twat”

𝙻𝙴𝚅 » got super excited while he was opening the lube since he hadn’t gotten to fuck you in a WHILE, which resulted the lube leaked everywhere and a giant 6′5 man slipping and hitting his head on the bed frame. worst part is; he had to go to the ER with a hard on that refused to go away

𝙱𝙾𝙺𝚄𝚃𝙾 » speaking of boners that wouldn’t go away, let’s not forget that one time bokuto took two viagras when you texted him to come over for a special occasion. he horribly misinterpreted the ‘special occasion’ text, because he showed up to your house with a huge buldge in his pants as your parents stand before him holding anniversary cards, completely horrified

𝙰𝙺𝙰𝙰𝚂𝙷𝙸 » wanted to make valentines day sex as romantic as he could, so he did the classic lighting candles and giving roses. everything was beautiful, until he accidently knocked one of the bigger candles over during missionary. this not only caused a huge ass fire in your bedroom, but he came right as the fire began to spread. boy was debating on whether his orgasm was to die for or not

𝙺𝙾𝙽𝙾𝙷𝙰 » had a nose bleed when he was going down on you and you both were immediately horrified, you thinking it was your period and him thinking he just ate coochie blood. yet as you went to go clean up, you realized his face had much more blood on it than your coochie did. to this day, he still blames it on your period 

𝚄𝚂𝙷𝙸𝙹𝙸𝙼𝙰 » threw you onto the bed and your head went through the wall. he didn’t even bother to ask you if you were okay, he just sighed and went “well, now i have to make a call to the construction guy. excuse me” and he left you and your concussed ass head sit there once again, pussy ass naked

𝚃𝙴𝙽𝙳𝙾𝚄 » during a blowjob, he held your head down right as he was coming causing the cum to shoot up your throat and somehow pour out of your nose. by the time he pulled out, he could barely breath from laughing at you. sure, the classic ‘milk shooting out of nose’ thing was funny at first until you got a sinus infection and had to breath out of your mouth for the next three days

𝚂𝙴𝙼𝙸 » always insists having sex in the most inconvenient places?? like he would pull you to side while grocery shopping and start grinding up against you as you pick which brand of cheese would be better??

𝙶𝙾𝚂𝙷𝙸𝙺𝙸 » he kept getting frustrated that his bangs were clouding his field of vision, so he irritably grabbed a hair tie and frantically tied up the sides of his bangs while he was fucking you. you immediately burst out laughing since he looked exactly like boo from monsters inc. 

𝚃𝙴𝚁𝚄𝚂𝙷𝙸𝙼𝙰 » got so drunk that he ended up fucking the couch. like he was just there on top of you, and his dick was just sliding between the folds of the leather couch. you decided to let him finish like that

𝚂𝙰𝙺𝚄𝚂𝙰 » had a really bad reaction to one of the products he used while shaving and ended up getting super irritated down there so he kept having to pull out in-between thrusts to itch his crotch. to make things worse, you joking suggested that he looked like he had syphilis and he got so disgusted at the idea of that thought that he literally had to pull out and take a breather 

𝙾𝚂𝙰𝙼𝚄 » drizzled ‘warm’ chocolate down your chest and was about to seductively lick it off until you screamed in pain and horror as the chocolate was literally burning your skin off. osamu panicked, obviously not knowing what to do if chocolate was burning his partners skin off so he just... frantically licked it off. you still had to go to the ER afterwards to get treated for mild burns

𝙰𝚂𝚃𝚄𝙼𝚄 » didn’t know what a hymen was until the first time he tried to have sex with you. no matter how much he tried to shove his schlong in, it really just wasn’t working + “yer puss is broken”

𝚂𝚄𝙽𝙰 » pinched your nipples so fucking hard to the point where you started crying. he thoughts these were tears of pleasure until you literally had to kick him off you. but hey, he gave you ice for your sore nipples and mcdonalds! what more could a girl possibly want :)

uh the end lol

also, this idea was inspired by the first haikyuu headcanon i ever read, “awkward sex moments” by @bbytetsu <3

[abbysfrenchbraid]

One sentence prompt with Abby pls daddy 🐡. “Don’t make me do this to you.”

well first of all, this is the first time anyone has ever called me daddy and I literally sat up straighter when I read this lmao

second of all, I know you might have wished for smut with this one, but my mind took me in the opposite direction. This is the most brutal piece of angst I have ever written. Do not read this if you're in a bad state of mind, do not read this if you struggle with this type of imagery.

-

Summary: Abby and the reader are on a supply run and the reader gets bitten. The fic ends with their death. Heavy trigger warning, I repeat, only read this if you're up for this kind of topic.

CW for canon-typical violence, insect mention,blood/injuries and death of the reader

-

The clickers were everywhere. There was no point in staying quiet anymore. Abby screamed in frustration as she plowed through four of them at once, waving her machete like an angel of death. You crouched behind a desk and emptied your entire magazine into a steady stream of new arrivals at the office door. The bodies were piling up in your only way out. Things didn’t look good for you.

This was supposed to be a supply run, just a two-day comb through a skyscraper that hadn’t been crossed off the map yet. Every week, Isaac was sending a team to go through another house in search of ammo and medicine. Since the base had doubled in members after bringing in everyone from the outposts, rations were getting scarce.

Everything had gone so well until Abby had opened a fire door, and with it, the gates of hell. There were probably five dozen infected behind it, all turned for years and so, so hungry.

A clicker somehow got a hold of the machete and tore it from Abby’s gasp. “Fuck!” She grabbed two knives from their holsters and went back at it. You quickly reloaded and continued shooting at infected crawling through the shrinking space in the door. Finally, the last one got stuck at the top and you put a bullet right into its right eye socket. A stream of black, foul blood ran down over the pile of bodies and mixed with that of the others on the floor.

“You okay, baby?” Abby wiped her forehead with the back of her hand, smudging the droplets of blood that had hit her face.

“Fine. What now?” You checked your ammo reserves and pushed up your sleeves. Sweat was running down your temple. Abby came over and grabbed your chin to reassure herself of your well-being, then she nodded tightly.

“Now we find a way out.” She went over to the window and broke it with her elbow. After punching out the shards of glass still sticking to the frame, she leaned out and looked around. You were on the sixth floor; jumping was not an option. “Come over here.”

You went over and holstered your gun. Abby put a hand on your shoulder as you stuck your head out of the window.

“See that ivy on the wall? It’s only a few feet until the next window. If the vines hold, we could climb over and enter through the other window. It still won’t be clear, but that door is a lost cause.” The gurgling screams behind the blocked doorway and the pounding at the walls made that very clear.

You worried your bottom lip between your teeth. This was a terrible idea. “And what if they don’t hold?”

“I don’t like it either, but there’s no other way, babe. There’s at least thirty clickers in that corridor, we’d never get through.”

Abby stepped close to you and held your face in her hands. You wrapped your arms around her waist and pulled her close. She pressed her forehead against yours and you concentrated on breathing in synch with her.

“We can do this.” Abby’s voice was hollow. You knew how much she hated heights. This was her worst nightmare.

“We can do this,” you repeated, much more steady than you felt.

You pressed your lips against hers in a hard, desperate kiss that told her everything words could not express. She held you close with a hand on the back of her neck while she kissed you, reassuring you that she knew, she knew, and she felt the same. You and her. Her and you, forever.

“Let’s go.” Abby pushed a chair to the window and stood on it. She stepped out of the window and onto the narrow ledge outside. It held. She nodded at you and gave her your most determined look. Behind your back, you clenched your fists so hard that a tendon shifted painfully in your knuckle.

Abby tested the thick vines of ivy that had grown on the cracked concrete wall. It seemed to be rooted firmly enough.

“Okay,” you heard Abby mutter to herself. Then she slowly stepped off the ledge until her entire weight hung on the ivy roots. Carefully, she made her way over to the next window, digging the tips of her boots into the wall and testing each vine before she held on to it. You held your breath the entire time.

After what felt like an eternity, Abby was on the other windowsill. She grabbed the mounting for the blinds above the window and looked in through the window. You could tell she was forcing herself not to look down.

“Alright, there’s a few in here, so I’ll wait until you’re here to break the window. The ivy should hold, come on.” She gave you a quick, stressed smile that was more of a grimace, but you appreciated the encouragement. You could do this.

Following her exact footsteps, you climbed out onto the sill and held onto the window frame. Shit, this was high. You were eternally grateful that there was no wind.

“Come on, baby, you got this.” Abby’s voice was miles away. You exhaled slowly, then you gripped two thick vines and slowly suspended yourself from them. Below your feet, there was nothing. And 70 feet below, hard concrete. Fuck.

You couldn’t stop your hands from shaking as you slowly let go with your left hand and reached as far as you could without extending your arm completely. Then you pulled yourself over and placed your right hand in front of you again. It took two more crawling maneuvers. You were sweating, your biceps were cramping and you felt as if you were going to black out. Then your feet were on the other ledge and Abby’s arm was around your waist. She knocked her head gently against yours.

“Okay?”

“Okay.” You blinked a few times to clear your head. Then Abby kicked in the window and you both got rid of the most dangerous shards before jumping in and pulling your knives.

A few clickers had heard already, but going stealth for as long as possible would make this a lot easier. You killed three infected on your way to the stairwell, then you had to pass the corridor where all the others were waiting.

Abby held up three fingers, then two, then one. You both ran at the same time. A roar went through the crowd of infected, then there was a wave of movement. They looked like a heap of maggots or cockroaches, a nest stirred after someone lifted their cover. Before you, Abby sprinted down the stairs, taking two steps at a time.

On the next floor, there were already four infected waiting on the platform. Abby jumped onto the first one, burying her knife in its skull. You came right behind her, snapping the neck of one. Suddenly there were arms around you.

Someone was clamping down on you from behind, holding your upper arms pressed to your body. You threw your head back and felt something crack beneath your skull, then the hold loosened. The clicker sank to the ground. Right behind him came the next, fingers tangling into your hair as it screamed into your face. More hands were on you.

“Abby!” Your scream was high-pitched, panicked, unfamiliar. You almost didn’t recognize your own voice. “Abby, help me!”

Suddenly, there was pain. You couldn’t even tell where it came from. Then there were gunshots, two, three, the sound reverberating off the walls of the narrow staircase. Abby jumped in front of you, grabbing your shoulders. She was yelling, but you couldn’t hear anything except a high ring.

Abby pulled your arm, shaking you out of your stupor. You couldn’t hear, but you could still run. Both of you dashed down flight after flight of stairs. Finally on ground level, the blonde tore open the door and you both fled inside before tipping over a file cabinet in front of the closed door.

“Baby? Y/N?” Abby’s voice was muffled. Her hair was drenched in blood and sweat. “Y/N? Can you hear me?”

“Yeah,” you whispered weakly. “Yeah, it’s coming back.”

She sighed with relief and pressed a hard kiss to your temple, then she grabbed your arm again. “Let’s get out of here.”

You ran through the overgrown streets, only stopping once to drink some fresh water. The ringing in your ears didn’t waver. It was horrible. Your entire spine felt like it was on fire. Your legs were filled with lead. After you had stumbled for the third time, Abby pulled you into a shop and closed the door behind you.

You sat on the floor and leaned your back against a shelf. Looking up, you realized with pleasant surprise that you had ended up in a bookstore. You gave Abby a weak smile. “Nice place.”

Abby just handed you her bottle and a piece of beef jerky. “Here. You need some energy. We can’t stay out another night, I need to get you to Mel. Something’s wrong.”

“Okay.” You bit down on the strip of meat and concentrated on chewing. Something was wrong.

When Abby finally stood and started wandering around the store, you carefully lifted your hand and rubbed the back of your neck, where the pain was the worst. Your hair stuck to it wetly, and when you pulled your hand back, it was bloody. Fuck.

You quickly hid your hand when Abby shot over a concerned glance, but then she found something interesting and perched on a table, opening the book. You touched your neck again, feeling around for a bullet wound or a scratch.

There they were. Small holes, arranged in a neat curve. When you pressed on them, you couldn’t suppress a hiss. Abby was with you immediately.

“What’s wrong, baby? Talk to me.”

You looked at her. Time seemed to come to a complete standstill. There she was, your beautiful girlfriend, your lover, your partner. Her neat braid that she redid neatly every morning was hanging over her shoulder. Hundreds of mornings watching her nimble fingers at work ran through your mind. Even though her face was covered in blood now, you could still make out her freckles. Last summer, you had spent an entire afternoon counting them. Every time Abby had kissed you, you had lost count and needed to start over.

Her hands were on your thighs, warm, strong, and comforting. You remembered when she had put her hand on your knee the first time. You had thought your heart would jump out of your chest and run away. The first time she had kissed you, you had been sure you would faint. But Abby always managed to catch you, to bring you back to earth, to her, always to her. She always found a way. It was you and her, her and you. Forever.

A tear had ignored your order to stay put and now slowly rolled down your cheek. Abby frowned and brushed it away with her thumb. “Pain that bad?”

You nodded, then you shook your head.

“Hey, what’s wrong? How can I help?” She smiled bravely.

Your brave Abby. Your beautiful, strong, brave, perfect girl. This wasn’t fair. She didn’t deserve this. You took her hands in yours.

“Abby…” You took a deep breath. “You can’t. It’s too late for that.”

You felt your bottom lip tremble and tried to press your lips together, but that only made it worse. Your face felt like it was going to split open. Your lungs hurt. Everything hurt.

“Y/N… What are you talking about?” Abby’s hands started shaking. “What are you saying?” The corners of her mouth twitched down dangerously, then tiny dimples started to appear on her chin. Her voice was only a whisper now, a plea. “What are you saying?”

“I’m sorry.” You couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. They were hot on your cheeks, tickling uncomfortably as they seeped into your collar. “I’m so sorry, baby. I was too slow. They got me.”

Abby began shaking her head, tears leaving white paths in the grime on her face. “No. No, no, no, no, Y/N, that’s not true. That’s not true.”

She held your hands so tightly you thought they were going to break. It didn’t matter now, anyway, you thought grimly. God, what a fucking nightmare.

“Abby.” You sniffed loudly and pulled her close, forehead to forehead again. “Baby. Don’t leave me to turn. Don’t let me become one of them.”

Your beloved crumpled before you. She howled in pain, pulling at her hair and furiously wiping her face. “No, no, no, this is all wrong. We have time. We can find… we’ll find a way. I just need to find Ellie. I’ll find her. We’ll find a way. I promise. Don’t give up like that, don’t you do that to me, don’t you…” She buried her face in your shoulder, her entire body shaking as she cried silently.

“My love.” You felt lightheaded now, your vision had started to double. “Abby. It’s happening. They got me good. Right on the spine. I don’t have much longer.”

You put your hands on her cheeks and forced her to look at you. The horror in her eyes was unbearable. “You need to be strong now. You need to promise me you won’t let me turn. Do you hear me? Let me die with dignity. Bring me back to the base and bury me under our willow. Okay? Okay, Abby?”

Speaking was hard now. But you needed to be sure.

“I can’t, I can’t…” It felt like Abby was dissolving in your hands. “Don’t make me do this to you. I love you. I love you, I love you…”

“I love you, too, baby. I love you so much, I always will. I’ll wait for you, I promise. I’ll be right there waiting when you follow me in 80 years.” You laughed through your tears and pulled Abby in for a desperate kiss. It was wet and salty. It was horrible. All of it.

“I can’t live without you,” Abby panted. “Don’t do this to me, I’m begging you. Don’t leave me.”

“I’m not leaving you,” you whispered. “I’ll be with you, always. But you need to help me do that. Don’t let me turn. Let me go in peace. I’ll wait for you. I love you, Abby, more than anyone has ever loved another soul.”

Abby kissed you again, then she hugged you tightly.

“Wait for me. I’ll find you,” she mumbled into your ear. “I’ll find you.”

“I will.” Your hearing was all fuzzy again. Black dots were dancing in front of your eyes. It felt like your muscles were being injected with bleach. “Abby, I need to go now. You need to help me. You need to let me go.”

Abby held you tighter. “I love you so much. I love you, Y/N. I’ll love you forever.”

You inhaled deeply and there it was, the faint smell of her favorite pine soap. It was home. Everything went dark.

-

-

Author's note: Hey, I was really debating if I should post this because it is incredibly heavy. Please come to my inbox and let me know what you thought 💘

If you want some fluff after this, check out this, this, or this <3

[love-toxin]

plagas; leon.

a/n: in the midst of some writer’s block i stumbled upon an old concept i never finished. enjoy some good ol’ plaga leon <3

warnings: parasitic possession, yandere leon, female reader, violence, blood, groping, leon’s teasing is just straight up bullying, pet names, almost noncon, slight boot kink, chasing. 

word count: 1.9k

“Leon..?”

The sun had set on your terrifying journey, and cast a shadow over the room you'd found yourself trapped inside. Not by locks this time, or villagers, or Saddler himself...but by the person you had trusted throughout this entire nightmare. The man that had saved your life stood between you and your only way out, and even then, you doubted that you'd be able to escape if you managed to slip past him. The road home was so long and the stifling, smothering Spanish heat had made way for a chilling cold that breezed through your body in the night and froze you to your spot.

And Leon was gone. His mind and body had succumbed to the disease he'd been injected with, the parasite that he'd protected you from...but instead of saving you, now all you felt was panic, fear, and dread when you looked into his eyes. 

“You can’t suck the poison out of this wound, sweetheart...but I won’t stop you if you wanna give it a try.” 

Leon took slow steps around you, his footsteps echoing in the marble hall of the castle as he eyed you up like you were his prey, while his fingers spasmed and twitched at his sides, like they were itching to either grab you or wrap themselves tightly around your throat. So much had happened since he'd rescued you from the farmhouse, and reassured you with infectious confidence that everything would be okay. It felt like a lifetime that you'd known him, even if in reality you'd only spent less than a day together--but running and hiding and waiting for Leon to dispatch any threats made the hours seem so long and torturous. You prayed for his safety at every turn, and felt terror grip your heart as you waited for him to come back and retrieve you from hiding…

And now you were here.

"Saddler wants me to kill you, you're not worth the hassle to him. But to me...you're my treasure. Mine." 

The way that word rolled off his tongue sounded like an echo in your brain. He said it once before, and it stuck with you awhile--but hearing him say it now was like having it permanently seared into your head. 

It wasn’t a secret anymore. You’d fallen in love with Leon, as so many had before. You fell for his confidence, his strength, his effortless teasing and sincere concern for your safety, and maybe it was all just backed by your appreciation for him saving your life and playing the hero so well. But even if it was temporary, you were in love and you wanted him to survive just as much as he wanted to save you, and even if he succeeded and brought you home just for you to never see each other again, there would always be a part of you that loved him, and you had accepted that fact. 

But things had changed. Seeing Leon no longer filled you with relief and happiness, that smug grin on his lips as he greeted you after fighting off monsters you could only imagine in nightmares. He took a step towards you, and this time you took a huge one back--and he chuckled, his tone dark and biting, before continuing on and piercing through you with blood-coloured irises. 

"I found you, I get to keep you. Finders keepers, huh sweetheart? That's fair, isn't it?"

His gaze held nothing less than a deep, ravenous hunger within him, the unsettling smirk on his face in no way easing that tension that weighed heavily on your mind. 

“Maybe I’m just a monster, now...if I am, then so be it. If being a monster means seeing that look on your face forever, then I gotta say, it feels pretty damn good!” 

"Y-You're not Leon!"

His shoulders suddenly tensed like he was about to lunge for you, but letting him have the upper hand would mean the end for you. You knew that fact so well that you acted on instinct, and unsheathed the knife whose handle you'd been stealthily gripping this whole time, to stab it into the eye of the man you wished you could have a life with. And you missed, the realization both relieving and terrifying, as the blade clanged and stuck into the wall behind him and barely clipped a few strands of his light-coloured hair. 

"Is this my knife? Now that's pretty cute,"

A shudder violently wracked your body as Leon's tongue slipped past his lips, and he turned his head to lick a slow stripe up the gleaming, bloodstained blade. He'd ended plenty of lives with that thing, but it seemed as though his own had yet to be one of them. 

"I've played the hero long enough. I want a reward for all my hard work...I want you."

His hand crept up your waist before you could react to it, rough fingers spreading warmth through your stomach as they grazed the exposed skin of your hip. But once you tried to break away from the touch you wished you didn't crave more of, his other hand shot out to grab you by the waist and keep you pressed uncomfortably close to his body, so close that your lips were mere centimeters from his neck and breathing in gave you a good whiff of that faint scent of cologne that still lingered on his skin. 

"Don't fight me, pet. I can already hear you crying for me to use you...you know, you're so cute when you're scared."

You squirmed even still, thrashing and shoving against his chest to try and find some way to twist out of his hold--but moving him was like trying to push a brick wall, and his grip on you got tighter and tighter until you whimpered with pain. The things he was saying just didn't make any sense, and you never wanted the real Leon more than you did in this moment. Knowing what it felt like to have his strength used against you instead of to protect you...it was becoming too much to bear, and in your terror you found comfort in Leon's touch again even if it was brief, his thumbs rubbing circles into your skin and working to relax you enough that you weren't so tense. 

"You're gonna forget all about that fear when I'm balls deep inside you." 

What little comfort you found was gone once he whispered that into your ear. You felt your eyes widen and Leon's fingers worked their way under the waist of your shorts in a moment, the danger so imminent that your reaction ripped itself from your throat in a scream, and you returned to struggling against the unmistakable stiffness that dug into your inner thigh through his tight pants. 

"Leon, stop!"

You wailed, beating your fist against his chest and even catching him in the jaw, not that you really noticed in your frenzy nor did he react save for his brow furrowing in fury. It didn't last forever though, it was easy for him to use his leverage to shove you off, your back hitting the ground hard enough to sting while he loomed over you and watched with sick glee as you trembled too hard to get up. 

"You don't want me to stop. Be honest, doll." 

You weren't expecting this kind of violence from him, especially not when he brought his foot down right between your legs, as was evident by the way you shrieked and tears pricked at your eyes at once. Somehow he managed to aim the heel of his boot right at your clit, and you were certain now that it was by no way an accident by the way he ground into it in slow circles, and watched with a smirk as your hips shakily followed his rhythm of their own volition. 

"You want me to take everything from you, and I swear to you I will. I'll strip you of every inch of your pathetic life and make you mine." 

The pressure was starting to hurt, and your arms shot out to grab his calf and try in vain to wrench him off of your sensitive areas. It seemed to just entertain him, however, and his taunts were starting to sting your broken heart even more than any physical pain he had inflicted. Even worse was watching him lick his lips as he reveled in your suffering, and one of his hands descended beneath the belt of his trousers to stroke himself under the tent that was so clearly obvious. He loved watching you in pain, and nothing but rage bubbled up in your chest from the humiliation of loving somebody so depraved, even if he wasn't really Leon anymore. 

"I hate you,"

You muttered through gritted teeth, trying so hard to hold back your tears that your whole body was shaking. He let slip a soft moan as he twisted his grip on his cock, and didn't stop even as he focused those bloodred eyes on yours and growled in time with an especially rough tug. 

"Liar." 

Leon's grip fastened on your shoulder, but instead of pushing you back down to the filthy ground, he yanked you forwards and crushed your lips against his. Nothing but heat and the scent of blood overwhelmed your senses, your eyes fluttering closed when he started sucking on your lower lip and grazing it with his teeth. You wanted to hate the shivers that snaked up and down your spine from his kiss, but when it was from the man you still loved, it was difficult to brush those feelings aside. It wasn't impossible, however, because when he prodded past your lips with his tongue and moved in close enough for you to feel his cock twitching through his pants, panic flared up in your throat and you bit down on instinct, the coppery tang of his blood flooding your mouth at once. Leon shoved you off him much harder this time, but with the pain causing him to stagger you managed to scramble to your feet and back away a few steps to get some distance. But the fear of turning your back to him kept you frozen in place.

"You wanna be a brat, huh?"

Despite inflicting some much deserved pain, his glare barely wavered as he pulled his hand from his pants and wiped the blood that dribbled from his mouth, eyes gleaming with a lust for violence that you feared right now more than ever. 

"I'll let you have a ten second head start then, sweetheart. Better hurry."

You hesitated, his offer confusing you for a moment, but once the realization dawned on you your feet moved on their own. Sore and stained with tears and blood, you tore off down the castle corridors to search for an escape, and if not, then just a place for you to hide until Leon gave up on you, which would never happen. The thought of monsters barely dwelled in your mind when the most dangerous one was Leon himself, but little did you know that it would only take a short while for you to realize how fragile you really were when he wasn't protecting you, and that escaping without him was just simply not possible. 

"...Cheeky little slut. Let's just see how far you get before you come crawling back to me."

[celestialarchon]

400+ Followers Celebration!

various genshin impact x f!reader

warnings: fluff/crack/NSFW implications, jokes and innuendos. reverse Isekai storyline and a LOT of attention on reader. SPOILERS FOR IN GAME. Archon spoilers!

As much as you tried, connecting and staying in reality was too hard. It was always the same outcome, finding yourself whisked away to another fantasy land through media. Normally your obsessions didn’t last long, but one game had completely sucked you in. Maybe it was the stress of the nightmare year 2020 or maybe it was the fact that Genshin Impact was everything you loved and more, but you couldn’t get enough. It was getting out of hand as even your roommates had began to play because of the way you romanticized the game. Acquiring most of the five star characters, building several strong teams, and finishing almost all the quests in roughly 5 months.

As an insomniac, it was easy to grind through the game until the sun came up. Sometimes you wondered if it was strange that an adult would be so enamored with a game but shrugged it off. It’d been a hellish year, you deserved to treat yourself.

Yet another night spent entirely on the dreamy land of Teyvat. You yawned and stretched as the sun peaked through the blinds and cursed yourself for not noticing the passing time. Removing your head set, you yawned again, feeling a wave of drowsiness wash over you. It was strange, you’d only been up one night and you were already so tired. Your home was quiet, all the roommates sound asleep as you crept into your bed under the covers. The stuffie you adored so much was soon in your arms as you drifted off, wishing to dream of traveling the world of Teyvat.

An extremely loud crashing sound woke you from your deep sleep. Instinctively you shot up, your arm moved on its own aiming for the space around you and swinging quickly and forcefully. Your fist made contact with something and you shrieked as the strange shadow crumpled. You flew out of your bed and away from the safety of your covers, grasping for the light switch.

Your panicked screeches only grew louder as the figure on the floor groaned and stood upright, still fumbling for the lights. Fingertips finally brushed the switch on the wall and you flipped the lights on. The sudden brightness blinded you for a minute and the mystery person as well. It hit you how stupid it was to turn on the lights in your room as soon as your eyes adjusted. Adrenaline was pumping through your veins as you rushed to the door. You could hear heavy footsteps from the other room. Other people were home you needed to get to them.

“Shiiiiit,” The strange person groaned again, “I drank too much.”

The voice was familiar and made you freeze for a moment. Mentally slapping yourself you darted out of your room but ran straight into a wall. Well, that’s what it felt like, but there wasn’t a wall outside your door. The force of the collision knocked you on your ass and you yelped as you hit the floor.

“Oh? What’s this?” The supposed wall turned to look at you, eyebrows arched as he stared down at you.

Your jaw nearly hit the floor as you looked up at the familiar man. That smooth voice, the long hair, the eyepatch. This had to be some sort of weird dream. No matter how hard you tried to move, your body wouldn’t obey. You heard steps from behind you and glanced back to see another Mondstadt troublemaker. A disgruntled anemo archon was slowly approaching you.

“Ehe, fuck, she hit me hard.” Venti giggled nervously.

“Poor thing,” Kaeya held his hand out to you, “Did the mean little twink scare you?”

The room was spinning, so you took the cryo pirate’s hand. Your jaw was probably still on the floor. His grip was strong and cool, it was bringing you back down to the reality of the situation you were in. Oh, the irony. You were not dreaming. Awestruck, you peered behind Kaeya into your living room to see even more Genshin characters just vibing. The esteemed geo archon was drinking from your favorite mug, two troublesome harbingers bickered in the corner of the room, a certain librarian was flipping through your books, both travelers were attempting to learn how to play uno. It was unreal. A pirate was flirting with a silver haired beauty.There was an astrologist examining your fish tank, an alchemist and a child terrorist asleep on your floor, and a fucking adeptus perched on your couch like a gargoyle.

Your roommates were nowhere in sight and your home was crowded by your fictional lovers. The absolute chaos of it all sent you over the edge. High pitched, clearly unstable laughter erupted from you. What else could you do? Cry? That wouldn’t change anything. All eyes shifted to you as you leaned on the wall, clutching your abdomen and giggling like a madwoman. Kaeya shifted away from you, allowing the others to get a good look at you.

Finally composing yourself, you stood up straight and introduced yourself, “Hello, why are you invading my home?”

“Hey girlie! I’m Childe,” The cheery harbinger nearly skipped up to you shaking your hand, “but you can call me daddy.”

Your face reddened at his bold introduction but you clicked your tongue avoiding his eyes.

“Hello, cutie. I’m Lisa.”

“Albedo, and this is Klee.”

“I tend to go by Zhongli.”

“Beidou! The lovely lady by my side is Ningguang.”

“Adeptus Xiao.”

They all introduced themselves so politely, you almost felt bad for acting a bit crazy. However, that feeling was quickly swept away by Kaeya and his sharp tongue.

“Kaeya, but I believe you already know that,” he smirked at you, “May I ask why you aren’t wearing any pants?”

“Oi, what?” You looked down and gasped.

Venti’s drunk ass had sent you into fight and flight mode so you had forgotten all about your night time attire. You were in an oversized Genshin Impact shirt without any pants on. Shoving Venti out of your way, you rushed to your room to dig for pants. Oh, how you wished you hadn’t forgotten about laundry. You hastily grabbed a pair of shorts that really didn’t do much except cover your underwear.

“I have shorts on now. You just can’t tell because of my shirt.” You declared entering the living room.

Some of the more promiscuous characters giggled at your embarrassment while Zhongli facepalmed and the most serious of them all, Scaramouche and Xiao, simply scowled. You sat on the end of your couch furthest from everybody else, nervous. Nobody had answered your earlier question. Apparently your discomfort was lost on the Adeptus Xiao, or he just didn’t care. He was in front of you in a flash, pinching your face and glaring at you.

“Why did you call us here you foolish mortal?” His tone was more annoyed than murderous.

Zhongli slapped Xiao’s hands away from your face and sat down next to you, “Be nice. She doesn’t know either.”

You nodded at this, and the room erupted in murmurs. Zhongli slipped his arm around you, patting your shoulder sympathetically. Lumine tossed the Uno cards down and glided to you, taking strands of your hair into her hands and beginning to play with it. Perhaps it’s because you played as both the travelers but the three of you seemed to silently click. Scaramouche and Childe began to argue again about something silly. Out of the corner of your eye you saw a certain bard and the charming Sir Kaeya raiding your liquor cabinet.

It was too overwhelming to argue. Lumine took her time playing with your hair while the others attempted to figure out how to go back to their own world. Xiao crept closer to you, truly like a cat. Beidou and Ningguang fawned over you and invited you into their relationship several times. You politely declined, knowing they’d have to go back to their world. It was disappointing and a bit frustrating.

Your wish came true but it was too good to be true. Albedo seemed to notice your silence. He gently maneuvered his adorable little sister off of him and approached you. His eyes were filled with curiosity, your silence only made his thoughts wander further.

“Can I experiment on you?” Albedo was blunt.

“Huh?” You blinked, unsure if you heard him correctly.

“I’m not sure if that was brave or stupid,” Childe snickered, “Has he always been this bold?”

“Tch,” Scaramouche rolled his eyes, “Thats a terrible pick up line, mad scientist.”

“Leave my cutie alone!” Lisa yanked Albedo away from you defensively.

The room was filled with protest at Lisa’s words. Zhongli merely sighed and pulled you closer. Venti’s dumb ass was floating around your living room hiccuping. Xiao was wedging himself between you and the arm of the couch. It was insane. Beidou and Ningguang noticed the two Liyue men snuggling up to you and marched over to the three of you.

Ningguang tried to pull you away from them while Beidou aggressively smacked at Xiao. Xiao was hissing at the beautiful captain and Zhongli was attempting to intervene. You shoved them out of your way and stood up, panicked by the attention. Lisa caught you as you tripped over your own feet but landed face first into her chest. She stroked your hair but was interrupted by Albedo grabbing your wrist and mumbling about experiments. The single moment Childe and Scaramouche got along was to pull you from Albedo but it became a quick tug of war over you.

Somehow, Klee was still asleep and Kaeya was just watching all of it go down.

“Cheeeeeeeeers, bitch bitches,” The Knight slurred.

“Enough.” Lumine and Aether both intervened.

Aether held his hand out to you, “You don’t have to pick now, but please say you’ll come with us?”

“You belong in Teyvat,” Lumine smiled at you warmly.

“So,” Aether continued “What do you say, outlander?”

All eyes were on you as the words left Aether’s lips. What would you do?

[countrymusiclover]

23 - Our Message to the World

Part 24

She's Human or Weapon

@tyrionsprincess30 @groovy-lady @bigbendyhorns @logolepsic-insomniac @the-big-bad-klaus @ocappreciationtag

Hope's POV

Collapsing to my knees I started sobbing for my parents until an explosion goes off heading straight for us. Alex gets hit with the power first where I closed my eyes not wanting to die this soon. Somehow I felt someone pick my body up. Opening my eyes I stared up at a boy with light grey hair and dark eyes. He's wearing goggles ontop of his head carrying me bridal style in his arms through the burning house. The guy manages to get everyone outside hovering above me just as the whole house explosions goes off. Gasping for air he gets off me where I shot up quickly getting to my feet seeing its all gone. Everything my parents worked for destroyed because of a God and my Uncle Erik. Clutching my hands into fists at my sides my eyes glowed golden where I needed to scream at how angry this makes me. "Hey, I was looking for the Professor. I was told he lives here." The boy spoke breaking me from my need to destroy a God. Turning on my heels I unclutched my hands with my eyes returning to normal. "Well my parents aren't here. This God ass guy took them. I have to get them back." The guy stared around suddenly introducing himself quickly. "I'm Peter by the way. Peter Maximoff." Shaking his hand I introduced myself seeing my aunt in her natural blue form. "Hope, Hope Xavier. I'm the Professor's daughter." All the younger students were in awe when she turned blonde again right before there eyes.

"Hey I think I knew your mother once. Blonde hair. Can conjure golden energy from her hands. That's pretty cool." Peter rubbed the back of his neck when I felt my cheeks turn red. I had to admit he was a lot cooler than Nik my first crush appeared to be the other day. Tucking hair behind my ear smiling back I responded with. "Oh yeah. Well I have both my parents powers combined. A hybrid you could say. I can read/control minds and have my mom's golden energy." Peter flipped his glasses down over his eyes flashing me a grin. "That's awesome." I grinned back at him until I could hear the humming of helicopters coming our direction. Meeting beside my aunt Peter followed when a helicopter landed on the front lawn. Aunt Raven glanced to me confusion written on her face. Before we had time to react the helicopters release a shock wave knocking us all to the ground. Blinking my eyes with my vision blurring Aunt Raven was in her blue form again. The head solider stopped pointing at me as I felt my eyes fall closed. "Definitely bring this one. She's Xavier and Deerfield's daughter."

Opening my eyes I lifted my head up seeing we're inside a cage with green walls. Getting to my feet Peter freaked out seeing Hank in his beast form right before I heard a guy come through the speakers. "A psychic event just destroyed every nuke from here to Moscow. That event emanated from exactly where we found you. At the home of the world's most powerful psychic and Electric source. So, you are going to tell me, where are Charles Xavier and Aurora Deerfield?" Stepping up I shouted throwing my hands up away from my sides. "What do you want with my parents!" The guy replied through the speaker before I could feel my parents prescences trying to move through my mind. "Don't worry Hope. You're parents won't be harmed. Just tell us where they are." My aunt Raven suddenly broke the silence staring at Peter confused when he admits. "Magneto, he's...he's my father." Looking down at my feet my heart drops knowing I can't date him now since we're related.

Aurora's POV

Shifting onto my side I finally woke up grabbing my head feeling like a rock is banging against it. Charles groans seeing the God I saw in my nightmares. Erik stood off to the side staring at us. "You're going to take part in all this killing and destruction?" He responded simply. "It's all I've ever known." Shaking my head no I sit beside my husband who leans against the rocks. "That's not true, E-" Erik cuts me off shaking his head bringing up Shaw. "No Aurora. Charles way doesn't work. Shaw would say it won't work out for Hope either." Pointing a finger to my brother type I glared into his eyes. "Don't bring Shaw into this or Hope. We were fine until you came into our house and blew it up. That's what he caused!" Moving my index finger towards the God man. "I have shown him a better way,-" Charles cut him off scoffing at his words. "You've just tapped into his rage and pain. That's all you've done.." Charles shifted so he could directly look at his friend. "I told you from the moment I met you, there is more to you, Erik. There is good...Aurora saw it inside herself and I know it's in you too." Reaching down I intertwined my hand in his left playing with his wedding band. "Whatever it is you think you saw in me, Charles...I buried it...with my family." Erik spoke his voice no longer breaking like it had earlier during our last conversation.

"Charles. Aurora, you will deliver my message to every living mind. You will tell them that the Earth will be laid waste. That it is I, En Sabah Nur, who will wreak this upon them." The God lowered himself right in our faces but my husband said no. "Even if I wanted to...I couldn't reach that many people. I don't have Cerebro." The God scoffed grabbing my hand making me wince sharply, pressing it to my husband's temple. Glancing over my shoulder the God rests his hand to my arm shoving his energy into my veins. "You're wife has the power to stretch your powers now. She has it through me. So deliver the message." I felt tears slip from my eyes at the amount of power he's pressing into my veins. "Hear me inhabitants of this world. This is s message. To every man, woman, and mutant in the world. You have lost your way. But I have returned. The day of reckoning is here. All your buildings...all of your towers and temples...will fall....This message is for one reason alone. To tell the strongest among you...those with the greatest power...protect those without!" Charles changed the message at end before the God clutched my head in his hands making me black out. Charles catches my body hearing my thoughts before I passed out. "He'll kill us to take our powers, Charles."

Comments really appreciated ❤️

[bambiswriting]

Consequence of Krell - Part 1

Part: 1, 2

Captain Rex x Tactician!Reader (she/her) 

Summary: You have joined the 501st and 212th in the campaign of taking Umbara, and now you have to apprehend and arrest the turned Jedi, Krell. But what happens when Krell turns his sights and hurts you?

Warnings: Descriptions of heavy injury, strangulation, choking, vomit, blood, burns, lightsaber wound, head injury, angst, hurt, death. Not a light one!

Word count: 2k

-

The shield dissipated to reveal the imprisoned clones. You watched as Jesse and Fives took the blasters outstretched in Rex’s hands while you stood on the elevator pad with Tup and Kix. The nervous energy was thrumming from each of them. You were of equal mind. Fives, your best friend, glanced over Rex’s shoulder at you. He nodded and attempted a comforting smile. You dipped your head in a sedated reply. Your stomach sat heavy, a weight ready to pull you under. But… no. You couldn’t focus on it. Not now. You had to do right by them. The grief was already at a mounted peak, but there would be time to sit in it with them later.

You didn’t comprehend the sensation of the pad rising until a blaster bumped against your left side. On your right, Rex’s eyes casted sideways to search your glazed ones. Your pupils were involuntarily flicking left to right, searching the empty space between identical heads for a solution. Anything other than this - an alternative to the loss that would continue once you reached the upper level of the command station. Rex grasped your two fingers closest to him and tenderly squeezed. You squeezed back. A silent promise of companionship to one another.

The doors opened, a cruelty from the Force, and clones immediately filed out, surrounding Krell. The objective was to cut off each inconceivable exit, but every man in the room knew it would make no difference should the Besalisk ignite his sabers. Many of them would not leave the tower. And perhaps you would go with them. You took your stance between Rex and Fives, with a desperate plea to the galaxy to allow you to maintain their safety. A hologram by the door pulsated back online, and the noise made you jump, setting the lump in your throat deeper. You aimed your blaster at the fallen Jedi.

Rex straightened. “General Krell, you’re being relieved of duty.”

He turned, slowly, and somehow that was equally as terrifying as staring him directly in those sickly yellow eyes. His two pairs of arms persisted in a fold behind his back, with optimal access to his weapons. The pressure in your head was building. Rex hadn't yet raised his DC-17s. He was the most vulnerable person in the room. You unknowingly squeezed down on your trigger.

"It's treason, then." Those words carried the condemnation of a death sentence. He bared his teeth in such a way that it would have appeared he was smiling.

Finally, Rex pinned his blasters on the target. "Surrender, General."

If the situation owed to it, perhaps you would have laughed. The mere use of a title, still, was abhorrent to you.

Krell initiated a stalk towards Rex, centering himself in the room and widening his stance by the parting of his feet. Please, no.

"You're committing mutiny, Captain."

"Explain your actions."

The clones moved deeper into the room, cutting off the window at which Krell was just policing the Umbaran landscape.

"My actions?"

"For ordering your troops against one another."

"Oh, that." He raised his head, proud, and gestured nonchalantly. "I'm surprised you were able to figure it out… for a clone."

Your clench around the trigger was building.

Out of your left eye, you had identified movement from Fives. You assumed it was a gesture of advancement. But you didn't turn to confirm this. You couldn't move. Your limbs were paralysed.

“Surrender, General. You’re outnumbered.”

You felt the air around you turn stagnant. A rushing noise built in your ears, and then your feet tipped forward, toes dragging along the floor. The gravity shifted underneath you, and you were pulled towards the beast at full speed.

Quicker than it began, you stopped, making contact with one of Krell's fists. Nothing you had endured in this war thus far compared to the instantaneous pressure around your windpipe. Within seconds your eyes felt close to bursting. You couldn't hear the commotion around you, as your blood was pulsing rapidly in your skull.

Safety mechanisms released in every which direction. Rex pinned his pistols, now gripped in a vice, on Krell's skull. "Drop her."

Krell turned to you, talking steadily along the shell of your ear. "Your feelings for him - all of them - are strong, but they weaken you. They compromise your resolve." He raised you off the ground, your legs squirming as you frantically clawed at his fist.

"She intended to shoot me, for you," he squeezed again, sight tunneling on Rex. A noise like a whine escaped your mouth. “Half-breed."

Rex couldn't make the call. Krell's movements were quick and precise. Any one of his blaster bolts timed with a purposeful shove could hit you. His blood was turning acidic.

"Yes… I sense the fear in you. The anger. The fury. Take your weapon. Strike me down."

Your helpless wheeze cut through the rest of Rex's resolve like glass. Your arms had slowed their fight to return the stolen air to your lungs. You were going limp. Your heart was trembling. His hands shook.

"This is the art of war. Executive decisions must be made."

You felt something in your neck crack.

Krell bowed his head. "And you lack the ability to instigate them."

His arms at his back frayed and thrusted forward, sending the men hurtling to the ground. Rex hit the door and his blasters fell with him, skidding out of reach. He leapt with speed to his feet, in time to see the green blade of a saber come down against your back, splitting your armour, through to your jacket and then along your back. If you could breathe, you would have screamed in agony. The image of your eyes wide in torture would haunt his nightmares forever. Krell threw you carelessly across the room, slamming against the wall. Your head suffered the brunt of the contact, and your body collapsed in a heap.

Fives' voice broke into bottomless rage. "I'll kill you!"

The clones needed no instruction. They opened fire. A second double ended saber entered the battle. What followed was a myriad of needless lives lost. Krell cut down men with no remorse. His sabers spun and pivoted, deflecting blaster fire and creating a shield around him. The plasma shuddered audibly, sound reminiscent of gunship engines, faulting, stuttering and eventually declining in an air battle. He leapt between men, massacring war heroes. Most were fortunate, decapitated or impaled immediately and granted an instantaneous passing. Others were left with pieces missing and didn’t have such a luxury of a fast death. They bled out until painfully slipping away. Orange and blue chipped armour was diced and thrown every which direction, 501st and 212th assuming a role of puppets, and Krell was the master. The Besalisk sliced one clone through the gut, and kicked him at Rex, who jumped aside in a dodge. Krell ceased momentarily, just as the remaining men dragged themselves back on their feet, and his eyes bore into Rex.

“I will not be undermined by creatures bred in some laboratory!” His exit was open. He turned and jumped through the window, glass shattering around him and falling to the ground below. He spun in the air and landed on both feet, the shards from the tower raining around him. Then the clones below began shooting.

He should have run straight to the elevator and pursued the fallen Jedi. But the stability of what would normally be his auto piloted instincts had fragmented. The smell of your burnt skin crippled Rex's mind. You were face down, and the wound across your back was glowing as it continued to melt the area in its circumference. Kix ran over then, seemingly directing his focus to you. Unbeknownst to Rex, the medic had already done a sweep, and concluded that no one else in the room who had been on the end of Krell's sabers had survived. He hadn't registered that Kix was speaking to him. Everything sounded muffled. "I've got her, go!"

"Rex, come on!" bellowed Fives.

He staggered on his feet, bile threatening to spew over his lips. Rex clasped a hand over his helmet, shaking his head violently. Damn it, snap out of it! He just… needs to see your face. He needs to see that you're alive.

"Rex!" followed Jesse, taking a large step forward and tagging him on the arm. Rex finally jolted, and cast his eyes to the elevator. The men stood, waiting expectantly for his lead, all of them far worse for wear. He picked up his fallen weapons, ran in and spun to face the door, casting another pained expression on your failing body as the level ascended out of view and he went below.

-

The 501st and 212th sprinted out of the command tower, Rex in lead. They followed the trail of broken glass, passing by a cluster of Umbaran ships. Just then, Dogma stepped out from behind one of the transports, blaster trained on his brothers. "Hold it right there!"

Rex whipped out his DC-17s. "Lower your weapon, Dogma," he commanded.

He hesitated briefly, shaking his head. "I… I can't do that, sir."

Rex's patience was already worn into the ground. "That's an order!"

“It’s my duty.” Dogma flicked his aim between them. "You're all traitors!"

Rex deposited one of his blasters into its holster, then removed his helmet, an attempt to show some relation and find a common ground. "I used to believe that being a good soldier meant doing everything they told you. That's how they engineered us,"

Tup lifted his blaster to Dogma.

"But we're not droids. We're not programmed. You have to learn to make your own decisions." He stared intently at Dogma, his brow pinched.

Dogma switched his barrel on Tup. "Dogma, don't do it."

"Damn it, we don't need this right now!" Fives threw his arm down and scowled. "He hurt (Y/N)!"

That broke something behind the tattoo across his eye. "Is… is she alright?"

"We don't know," Jesse said dejectedly, angrily stuffing his blaster into his other hand.

Tup shook his head. “He just… cut her down. A civilian.”

“He’s the traitor, not us! (Y/N)’s not a clone. She wasn’t made to die this way!”

“That’s enough.” Rex’s words weren’t meant to come out as pained as they did. It was like there was a thick wad of sandpaper in his throat, grinding his voice down to a pained shadow of his usual resonance.

The truth is, you were no longer a civilian. You made the choice to enlist in this war, to try and make the galaxy safer for the future generations. It’s one of the things that drew Rex to you - your selflessness and willingness to join a battlefront, to do the right thing, where others would turn and run the other direction. You were hands on like that, believing in doing it yourself, or not at all. Others would have called you mad.

As much as he admired that about you, it was also his downfall, because he knew you wouldn’t walk away. You wouldn’t leave his brothers. You loved them like family. Hell, they were your only family. And they loved you. Perhaps that would mean he would lose you to it all one day. Perhaps he had lost you already.

Rex squeezed his eyes shut and drew his brows tightly together. He sucked in a breath.

Dogma lowered his weapon, and he was tackled by troopers without any protest. He stretched his arms out in front of him and released his blaster. They pinned either arm behind his back and secured his wrists together with binders.

Rex hesitated. "Take him to the brig," he ordered, pulling his helmet back over his head, then pointing to a couple clones.

"You two, get up there and help Kix! The rest of you, don't let General Krell escape!"

"Yes, sir!" They shouted as Rex and the others ran into the treeline.