#implied threat tw

[fatefought]

tiberius is intentional with his phrasing often. he and natalia had that shared gift. for the latter, it's an unfortunate reminder of the waste that she was born in the districts rather than within the city. there were other victors the president felt similarly about, usually he found other ways to make use of them. most of them complied, even if some incentive had to be dangled first. of course, some of those he'd been most fond of have proven disloyal. no matter, their penance will come sooner than later.

he offers a singular nod as he listens to the younger man speak. words linger in the air as the president takes a sip from his tea, gracefully putting the mug but down on the table. " well, i surely hope that if the opportunity were to present itself, you'd still make the only right choice, mr. germaine. the only suitable one is choosing our great nation. just as you've reiterated, miss morrissey would as well. "

Tiberius's thoughts ponder momentarily to a time over three decades before, a much younger version of himself and of Natalia, a first sight and eventually a first meeting. "A very small factor," he conceded. Her heart and mind had been more alluring to the sponsor than any number of kills could be. She could carry on a conversation intelligently, gave her all to those she loved, was selfless, he could go on. He wouldn't though. He was not naive enough to believe that Snow didn't know his feelings for the woman, no need to confirm those thoughts with words.

"I do not believe," he begins, focuses instead on the possible accusation of Natalia being anything but loyal, "that she will ever defy Panem. She is loyal to the nation and loyal to Capitol." Of that he will always assert. "As you said, victor's are not usually fickle people. Natalia has never shown any indication to be fickle enough to fall for the propoganda of rebellion."

[selineram3421]

*sleepy*

Courting Pursuit

Part 2

Part 1

Alastor X Deer Reader

Warnings ⚠

⚠ gender neutral (gn) reader, mule deer reader, assuming Alastor is a marsh deer, Spanish translated, stalking-Vox, cussing, implied/suggestive, italics=thoughts, ha..watch out for the end ⚠

You continued to act affectionate towards him.

Even the others noticed and most of them would often ask you to do their work if it was related to him.

Niffty doesn't care and does her work as usual.

The thing is, you don't mind one bit and take up the work.

"Hola Alastor.", you'd greet him every time.

Today you were helping someone else, Husk to be exact, putting away some bottles in storage.

And then he heard that obnoxious voice of the sad excuse of an entertainment performer through his radio next to the television shop, Vox.

"Top of the hour! Today I have a special little treat for you, though the image is sadly glitched out, you can still see what is going on in the photo.", he says. "It's the Radio Demon, receiving an affectionate peck on the forehead from another deer!"

What a creeper. Alastor rolled his eyes and waited for the perfect moment to jump in and make the flat headed piece of tech look like a complete fool.

"From the looks of things, Alastor has a fuck buddy.", the TV demon grinned. "Wouldn't be surprised if he was taking it from behind.", he laughed and continued to rant on about innuendos like an idiot.

Turning a few knobs and flipping some switches, the Radio Demon was live.

"Salutations!", he greeted his listeners. "What an interesting start to the day! An overly cocky man acting like a news anchor when he doesn't have all the facts!", his smile widens. "For a demon asking his viewers to trust him, it's quite bold that he so blatantly lies to their faces."

"That's bullshit! I only provide the best-"

"Vox is so insecure and craving for attention from a powerful Overlord like myself, it's obvious that he's jealous.", Alastor laughed.

"Am fucking not you old timey prick-!"

"Why would he make such an announcement if not for that? Its clear to me that he wants someone to focus on him all the time.", he chuckles. "No wonder he always something new on his screens. But they lack so much that he has to resort to childish news broadcasts to seem important."

"Childish!?"

"As for the demon in the photo, that is a hotel guest and they do not understand English that much. There was a misunderstanding in translation and well..I'm not allowed to kill hotel guests.", then his voice switches. "This does not mean that I will let such an action pass, I will do something mμc# ￦θrs€ than death."

"You lying piece of shit! Tell me them the truth!"

"I should announce that the Hazbin Hotel has its doors open for all sinners who want a shot at redemption! Try to climb your way out of this fiery inferno, some might try to drag you back down, or you'll have trouble all on your own trying to redeem yourself! Anything is possible!", he put in his two bits for advertising the hotel. "And with that my wonderful listeners, I shall bid you all adieu~"

He switched on some jazz, not wanting to hear anymore of Vox's whining.

Something still irked him however..

Perhaps I should pay Rosie another visit. He thought. This time without them knowing.

As soon as he walked through the door of the emporium, his friend waved him over and pointed to her office, letting him know that she'd be there soon.

Once entering the office, he sighed and sat on the couch, already tired of what else would happen later in the day. He didn't want any other unnecessary conversations.

Rosie entered the office not too long after, setting her hat aside as she closed the door.

"You won't believe the gossip I've stumbled across today. Betty, the one with the pooch, not the one with the scar. She-", the woman started but then took notice of his mood. "What's wrong? You look worn out already."

"I don't know what to do with them. Vox, that piece of shit tech, has already made comments but I already put him in his place.", he sighed and ran a hand down his face.

"I heard.", Rosie let out a short laugh.

"The deer is still doing things, not as bold as the first time but I don't want them near me. It's-", he growled and made a choking motion with his hands.

"If it's bothering you that much, you know you can tell them to stop.", she says.

He looks up at her with a wide eyed stare.

She dead pans.

"Alastor. You know you can tell them to stop. Right?"

"The thought hadn't crossed my mind.", he simply says.

"Oh for crying out loud-!", she tosses a pillow at him. "You are unbelievable! Go and speak your mind! You've never had a problem with it before!"

She was right. Why had he been so bothered about something like this?

He should have spoken up about it from the start.

It was late when he returned to the hotel. The lobby was empty and he could only assume that everyone had long been asleep. Walking to the dining room, he spots the kitchen light on.

Angel is probably making an abomination of a hangover cure- He thought and opened the door, only to find the mule deer leaning against the counter half asleep.

You perk up when noticing him.

"Bienvenido. Hice la cena y te guardé un plato.", you wave and smile. (Welcome back. I made dinner and saved you a plate.)

"What are you doing up at this hour? Granted, it is Hell and there are barely any rules around here, sleep is still important.", he says as you pick up a plate covered with tin foil.

Taking off the foil, you give him a plate of food.

Your fingers brush against his, making him flinch back and drop the plate, causing it to shatter on the floor with a loud crash.

Instead of focusing on the mess, you looked at him with worry.

"¿Estás bien? No estás herido, ¿verdad-?", you reach out to him but he smacks your hand away. (Are you alright? You're not hurt, are you-?)

"Don't touch me.", he hisses out. "I am not comfortable with your advances, so I advise you to stop NOW before I tear you apart and make you into tomorrow's dinner."

With that you took a step back.

"No quería incomodarte. Me detendré. Perdóname por no tener en cuenta tus sentimientos.", you muttered and looked away. (I didn't want to make you uncomfortable. I will stop. Forgive me for not taking your feelings into account.)

Alastor didn't bother trying to translate your response in his head, just walking around you and to the door.

"Lo siento.." (I'm sorry..)

He heard you whisper as he walked out of the kitchen, leaving you alone.

With a sigh, you kneeled down and began to clean the mess.

Sad times means cookies.

~Seline, the person.

Part 3

Taglist@

@c4rved-pumpk1n @scary-noodlesblog @stolas-thebirb @naelys-the-aster @biromanticboba @lbcreations-blog @ducky-died-inside @kiraisastay @pooplyface1423 @line-viper @117s-girl @spiderlegsling @alastorsgoldie @repentant-repeller @kcsketches @lofasofabread @kotaleee @im-coolrat @superzombiewho @speckle-meow-meow @jammcookie @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved @trashbin-nie @koioli @fatherlesschild2 @mmik3yy @just-here-reading @nealeart @hudiexiaoying @crystal-multiplefandomlover @glowinggoldfish0 @tiredgamerhere @fluffy-koalala @valenfawkes @willowshadenox @aria-tempest @alastor-simp @nonetheartist @gallantys @i-3at-kidz @luxky-aish @ceafighter @xalygatorx @xangel-8 @sleep-7372 @wat4r @lustylita @xdolls-crownx @lonelysimp18 @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved @dap11 @al1fers-haven @futureittomainn @random-3455 @+?

ML II Alastor🎙 | CP ChL🦌

[psychobulimic]

No one cares until you’re dead!!!

[absolute-flaming-trash]

Pairing: Yandere!Mahito x AFAB!Reader

SFW (ish)

Word Count: 2'060

Warnings: Yandere, Previously established (forced) relationship, Invasion of privacy, Nudity, Threats, Implied stalking, Nonconsensual touching, Reader eats shit in the tub (as in they fall).

Additional Notes: Reader is a foreigner in Japan.

You decided to leave the door open this time.

There wouldn’t be much point in shutting it, you had decided. The door to the bathroom was there for privacy, and while this wasn’t your home, you were alone so shutting it would’ve felt redundant.

The scent of eucalyptus filled the air as you sat on the edge of the tub and poured a generous amount of foaming bath soap into the water as it filled.

The house you were in was more Western-styled than the rest of the neighborhood. Part of you found it funny since, if someone were going to move to another country, you’d think they’d embrace the cultural differences that came with it - including home design.

That being said it did make a few things easier for yourself since you were also a foreigner, however you hardly ever complained when it came to your line of work.

Your job was a simple one. While the residents were away on vacation, you’d stay and take care of their home as well as whatever plants or animals that occupied it.

The owners got peace of mind while they were away and you got both a free place to live and paid to do almost nothing. Wins all around, in your opinion.

The cat you were looking after sat just outside the entrance to the bathroom, the tip of its tail twitching back and forth as it watched the water level in the tub rise.

“Don’t worry, Ashy, this isn’t for you.” You said as you put the cap back on the soap bottle and tested the temperature of the water with your right hand.

Ashes, the sleek Russian Blue feline narrowed her eyes in apparent scrutiny and her tail thumped against the carpet a little harder. The sight made you chuckle lightly.

“It isn’t, I promise.” The assurance in your tone was the same one would use when talking to a toddler. “See?”

You stood from the tub and began undressing, making quick work of your shirt and pants. Your amusement only grew when Ashes immediately got up and walked away, presumably to find a place to lay down that wasn’t near temporary bodies of water.

Once the water was about six inches from the top you shut it off and removed the rest of your clothing. The sigh that left you was low when you stepped in and settled amongst the bubbles, the hot water enveloping you in a gentle embrace that made your eyes close and your head rest against the edge of the tub.

The bathtub was nice - nicer than anything you had ever previously owned. It was long enough that you could properly stretch your legs out while being deep enough that the water came just above chest level. The only thing that could have possibly made it better was if it came with jets, but you certainly weren’t complaining with how things were.

Taking in a deep breath, you sank under the water and resurfaced a second later, letting out a long exhale while wiping the water away from your eyes.

It felt good. Being surrounded by warmth and not having to think about anything you had to do.

“Well, this is an interesting sight.”

The unexpected voice caused you to startle - jerking up straight in the tub while your head snapped towards the doorway.

It was him again. The stitches lining his skin were unmistakable, as was the mirth in his bi-coloured eyes while he leaned against the frame where Ashes had been only a few minutes ago.

Indignation quickly came up to replace the majority of the embarrassment, and you scooped up the bubbles around you to cover your chest.

“Get out.”

“Why? I’d say the open door was more than enough of an invitation.” 

Mahito’s nonchalance was infuriating and your knees drew up as he approached the tub.

“Well, it wasn’t.”

Mahito giggled, both at your answer and your vain attempt at more modesty. He stopped about three feet away from the tub to lean against the sink and he shrugged “Could’ve fooled me.”

“What are you doing here?” Your tone was sharp, no-nonsense, although most of its bite was reduced due to your current state.

“What am I doing here?” Mahito parroted back, idly going through the items on the bathroom counter - picking through your perfumes and skin care products. “I’m talking to you, aren’t I?”

“That’s not what I meant.” You snapped, irritation further clouding any mortification you felt. “You couldn’t find someone else’s house to break into?”

“Now that’s just it.” Mahito looked back towards you, a shit-eating smile on his face. “This isn’t your house.”

Fury and annoyance burned in your cheeks and Mahito giggled.

“You look like an angry, wet cat.” He said, toying with a bottle of your perfume. It was one of your favourites, cherry scented. “Aren’t you happy to see me?”

“I’d be lying if I said yes.”

“Awwee.” Mahito cooed with faux, overexaggerated hurt. “That isn’t very nice.”

“How did you even find me?” You asked, deciding to break off from the line of dialogue that was clearly leading nowhere. “The last place I was in was on the other side of the city.”

“Yes, it was.” Mahito sighed, like the reminder itself was exhausting and he pouted. Like an actual child. “Rather upsetting of you to not tell me you were moving around.”

Your teeth dug into the flesh of your cheek. “That doesn’t answer my question.”

“Your questions are boring.” He replied, “In any case I’m glad I’ve found you again, you’re definitely a sight for sore eyes.”

Something curled in your gut at his words. It felt heavy, like sludge, and your lips pulled back into a sneer. “Horrendous.”

Mahito chuckled once more at your comment, clearly unbothered. “Now, now, is that how you treat a guest?” He set your perfume back on the counter and took a step forward to crouch next to the tub.

Your arm came over to cover your breasts automatically and he rolled his eyes.

“You know, there’s no point in covering yourself. I’ve already seen everything.”

Pure, unfiltered mortification burned in your face and you glared at him. “Go to hell.”

He feigned shock, placing a hand over his heart. “How rude, and here I thought humans were more welcoming to their guests, especially in this part of the world.”

He chuckled again, his glee-filled eyes fixed on yours. “But I imagine that’s lost on you.”

“You’re not a guest.” Your reply was harsh, angry embarrassment still driving your words.

“No?” He leaned over the edge of the tub, getting far too close for comfort. “Then what am I?”

Dozens of answers sprang to mind. He was awful, for one. You often wondered if the stitches that ran along his skin were the only things that kept the rot in his soul from physically bubbling to the surface.

Repulsive was another. Abhorrent. Nauseating. Terrifying. Incredibly unwelcome in ways that caused words to fall short.

“A pain in the ass.” Was the savory answer you chose.

Mahito let out a bark of laughter - the sound loud and harsh in the acoustics of the bathroom and it caused you to flinch with how close he was to your face. Internally you were thankful when he drew back to sit cross-legged on the tile.

“A pain in the ass, huh? Can’t say I’ve heard that one before.” He said, his smirk widening. “You know, it’s always fun when humans try to be feisty.”

The fruit was low-hanging, but you took it anyway, albeit reluctantly. “Oh?”

“Yeah.” His grin widened to the point it was a marvel his stitches didn’t rip. “It makes it more enjoyable when they realize nothing can save them.”

The heavy feeling in your stomach quickly turned to ice. You sank a little lower in the tub, although warmth did nothing for the goosebumps that blossomed along your skin at the threat.

But that wasn’t quite right, it wasn’t a threat. No, it was fact, and he stated it like one. Mahito enjoyed destroying people, peeling back layer after layer - both physical and psychological - to see what was underneath. It was entertainment disguised as research, since - even despite being shown what he was capable of - you refused to believe even someone as vile as him got any knowledge out of what appeared to be pure torture.

Mahito sniggered at the look on your face and he waved a hand dismissively

“Oh relax, nothing’s going to happen to you.”

The unspoken ‘yet’ at the end of his sentence lingered in the air, mixing with the scent of eucalyptus and poisoning it.

“Anyway, that’s enough of that.”

You looked at him quizzically as he stood back up, but the confusion was short-lived as you saw him reach for the hem of his shirt.

Your eyes widened to the size of dinner plates.

“Uhm, what the hell are you doing?!”

“There’s more than enough room in there for two.” The casualness of Mahito’s voice was slightly muffled when he pulled his shirt over his head. “And it’s been a while since I’ve had a bath, the hot springs aren’t exactly close, you know?”

He wasn’t wrong. The house you were looking after belonged to a couple, and it was clear the bathtub was bought with the intention of having more than one person in it, but the mere thought of being near Mahito that way made you want to vomit.

When he stripped out of his pants your eyes immediately moved to the bubbles surrounding you. It was a hopeless situation since, even if you did move to get out, not only would he truly see you in all your glory, he’d likely drag you right back in anyway.

When he stepped in, the water was displaced so greatly that some of it spilled over the edge and onto the tiled floor. A grimace crossed your face and your eyes narrowed at the bubbles. You’d have to clean that up later.

Mahito was quiet for maybe a minute maximum, shifting around here and there and displacing more water onto the floor until he sighed dramatically.

“This isn’t comfortable.”

The urge to snap at him that he was more than welcome to get out clung to the tip of your tongue and nearly leaped off of it, but any kind of response was replaced with more of that awful but familiar embarrassed outrage as you felt cold fingers wrap around your wrist and pull you forward.

It threw you off balance horribly, and your free hand shot out instinctively to catch your fall a moment too late. Water went up your nose when you went underwater for a brief moment and you came up just as fast as you went down, coughing and sputtering as Mahito pulled you against him - twisting you so you were settled between his legs with your back against his chest.

His giggle mixed with the ringing in your ears.

“Whoops.” He said, apology non-existent. “But this is more comfortable, don’t you think?”

You didn’t want to think. You didn’t want to think about any of it. Not the way one of his arms was wrapped around your waist, locking you in place, or the way the bone in his chin dug into the muscles of your shoulder.

Each cough from you made more water spill onto the floor and Mahito sighed again while he smoothed the wet strands of your hair away from your face.

For a moment you wondered if this is what Ashes felt like whenever you bathed her.

“Humans are so fragile, it’s a wonder there’s so many of you.” His words were muttered like he was thinking out loud, and it was very likely that he was. “A bit of water and your soul is already down to seventy percent.”

It was more than just some water, you wanted to yell at him. It was the fact he was here in the first place, the fact he was holding you naked against him so you could feel as much of him as he could of you.

The fact that you were beginning to realize that no matter what house you took care of, he’d always be there.

And there’d be much more than water to clean up after.

© absolute-flaming-trash 2024. Do not repost, modify, copy, or claim.

[fatefought]

" it will be a differing marvel once they reach reaping age, i'm sure, " he dismissively agrees. the tone doesn't match the stark, harsh reality of the situation. threat is there, but it's not boldfaced. instead it shows an indifference. as though them being shelled out to the arena is as much of a menial decision as satina picking two choices for her scoops of iced dessert. for a man who is renowned for his lack of subtly in facial expressions, there might be something humorous in watching the camera pan to him as one of his children's names got called by the current district eight escort.

light eyes watch as dark liquor goes down the other's gullet. " it's very quaint and charming, you'll have to forgive me though. i prefer to savor even if the libation is a few shelves down. " there's times he might indulge with government officials here and there ; one time the opposite's cup had an extra almond taste to it. he thinks it's unbecoming past youth to just gulp down a shot. instead he brings it up to his lips and takes a sip. it's not refreshing, rather more of a country swill. he can have something nicer once he retreats to his home office. " how is mrs. whitvale ? i'm due to make a visit with her soon. "

"I appreciate that," the words felt like rusty nails as they made their way up his throat. "As they get older the capitol gets a little bit more overwhelming to them, compared to 8." 8 wasn't perfect, but it was simple and it was home. While Juliet was still at the age where all the shiny things were an endless source of amusement, Jax had turned to the age where he understood more things and could see the way his parents tensions rolled off them as they came to the capitol, and began to mirror it. Satina was still in the stages of obsession with all the novel things they didn't have back in 8; icecream mainly. "Though if I had to guess, a few more years and they'll all be back to loving their time here, once they understand more." That was a bold faced lie, but one he had to spit up regardless.

Sterling had to keep himself from rolling his eyes as the man made his ideas on the lower districts simply by speaking of bourbon versus whiskey, incredibly clear. Yes, the lower districts didn't have nice things, 'and who's fault was that?' Sterling wanted to ask, because it certainly wasn't his, that's for damn sure. "Depends who I'm drinking with," Sterling replied before tilting the glass that had been playing at his lips all the way back and swallowing the amber liquid in one gulp.

[object-vault-9]

Week 127

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[phoebepheebsphibs]

Double-Mutated Mikey

Chapter 45: Thanatology

Continued from the short story written by @boots-with-the-fur-club

Prev || Next

Leo has never moved with such panic and speed in his life, he thinks.

He cradles Mikey's body close to him as he runs down the halls, screaming-crying for 'April, Casey, somebody! Help us!!'

As soon as Mikey had crumbled, Raphael had created a ginormous hologram around him, Leo, and Donnie. Secure in his arms, Raph then jumped down the hole that had been created in the building not a five minutes ago.

The trio are now running frantically through the halls as Mikey bleeds out in Leo's arms, searching for the others in a panic. They need help.

"He's getting cold!" Leo shouts back to Donnie. "How are his vitals, will he make it?!"

Donnie -- who is literally hovering over them as they race down the corridors -- flips his goggles over and examines the dying child.

"...Not looking good, chief," Donnie states. "He's lost a lot of blood, the barb pierced his neck pretty deep. We have to hurry or else --"

Mikey suddenly starts coughing violently, spewing blood from his mouth as he lurchs in Leo's arms from the force.

"... He might choke on his own blood," Donnie groans.

"J-just hang on, buddy," Leo begs, readjusting his grip on Mikey. "Hang on..."

Mikey's eyes open and close. His eyes are clouded over, his vision far away and blurry. Leo thinks he hears Mikey mumble something, reaching up softly.

"...l....leo....?"

"I'm here, I'm here," he repeats over and over and over again. "I'm right here, just stay with me -- k-keep talking, just keep --"

"....leo......" he murmurs, hand still shakily rising to meet Leo. "...did i do.... d-did i do good, l...leo.....?"

"You did so good, buddy, you did so so good, and --"

Leo chokes on his tears. He bites his lip as he tries (unsuccessfully) to keep from crying, to stay strong.

Mikey's hand reaches up just enough to touch Leo's face. His hand is cold. His bloodsoaked hand leaves a sanguine fingerprint against Leo's chin, before slipping back down, dangling limply by his side. Leo keeps on babbling, talking on and on and on in a panicked ramble of instructions for both himself and his brother.

Mikey's head rolls to look back at Raph and Donnie, and he manages a bloodstained smile at them.

"...hhhhiiiiii, rraphieeeee....... heyyy, d....d....dee-dee...."

Neither of them can hear Mikey's ghost of a whisper voice.

"wh....why so...... scared, i-i'm not.... going any....where...."

His eyes lose focus.

".......................right....?"

They still don't hear him. Raph manages to meet his gaze and tries to smile back at him, though the smile is wobbly and his eyes are wet.

"Hey, king," Raph shudders, his voice cracking and breaking. "You'll be fine."

Mikey's eyes feel so heavy. He tries to nod or hum to show Raph he trusts him. He's not sure if he ever does either of those things...

He... he wants to say something.

He knows he wants to say something.

If this really is the end... then he has to say SOMETHING, right?

"....i....."

His eyes start to drift closed.

Say something. Anything. Hurry.

There isn't any time left.

"...i-i... i..."

Mikey tries to lift a finger, a hand... his whole body feels cold, staticy nothingness replacing every cell and bone and scale.

Apologize for leaving.

Apologize for dying like this and worrying them.

Apologize for allowing yourself to forget them, allowing yourself to believe that they wouldn't care about you to come back for you.

Mikey's breath is clogged in his throat, his heartbeat a flutter in his chest that is just about to fly away.

SAY SOMETHING, PLEASE! YOU WON'T GET ANOTHER CHANCE, MIKEY!!

Mikey musters up as much strength as his feeble and broken body has left. He wishes he could think of something cleverer... something more meaningful... something that would make up for everything.

In the end, there's only one thing he wants to make clear for eternity. Only one point that he wants to get across. Only one message that he needs them to remember...

"....i.... i l.... i lllllovvvve y...."

That'll have to do it...

Mikey exhales softly before his eyes close.

Leo looks down just in time to see Mikey's eyes droop closed as his chest falls.

"No... No, no! #%@& NO!! You can't just --"

Leo sees a door cracked open and hears voices from the room inside.

He makes a break for it.

Inside, several heads turn around and gape in surprise and utter terror as they see Leonardo scramble inside and drop Mikey's body onto a table.

"H-help me," Leo begs. "Please... please!"

April screams a horrifying and broken cry as she runs to her baby brother, taking his face in her hands and examining his wounds.

Casey is by their sides in an instant, mask pulled down so his Genius Tech™ built-in goggles can find what needs to be taken care of first. Leo's words spill out faster than he can process, desperately explaining the situation.

"...We need to make sure his airways are clear so he can breath," Casey announces. "Donatello, get me a... a-a a ventilator and a tube to clear his airways. N-next, we..." Casey starts hyperventilating, his hands shake as he tries to pinpoint what to do.

"Case?" Leo begs, reaching out for him. "Please, tell us -- "

"I-I don't know," he admits, trembling. "He... S-Sensei only taught me so much, I never got to Stab Wounds 101! I... I-I know that we shouldn't take the barb out, that'll just cause the bloodflow to... l-like a cork in a bottle, i-it's the only thing keeping the blood inside, but -- I, uh, we need to close the wound, s-s-so --"

Bishop runs over and Pulls Casey aside.

"You're okay, kid. Look, wounds this bad need immediate treatment. I know a few things for dealing with stabs, but... that might not cut it. He's lost a lot of blood and we'll probably need to perform a transfusion."

"I can do that," Leo nods, swallowing. "I know how."

"But w-who's gonna donate?" Casey asks.

All three brothers raise their hands at once.

"It should be me," Donnie announces quite seriously.

"Don, you can't stand stuff like that!" Raph argues. "I should be the one; Raph's the biggest, and I have more than enough blood --"

"I can do it!" Leo argues.

"You have to perform the actual transfusion process! You can't do that when you're giving --"

"It should be ME," Donnie reiterates very vocally. "Raph, yes you are the biggest and the strongest, which is why we'll need you to carry both Mikey and the blood donor home. Leo has to do the transfusion, so he can't do it. It needs to be me."

Leo and Raph exchange a glance before reluctantly relenting.

"I can try to treat the wound," Bishop says, looking at it carefully. "But... I'm afraid I'm not well-versed in mutant biology..."

"Meaning?" April asks.

"ᴍᴇᴀɴɪɴɢ ʜᴇ ᴅᴏᴇꜱɴ'ᴛ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ʜᴏᴡ ᴛᴏ ᴋᴇᴇᴘ ᴍɪᴋᴇʏ ᴀʟɪᴠᴇ ᴏɴᴄᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏᴜɴᴅ ɪꜱ ʀᴇᴘᴀɪʀᴇᴅ," Honeycutt chimes in.

"So... s-so even if we save him..." Raph says, pausing for a dramatic and anxious gulp, "Mikey will still die?"

Honeycutt doesn't answer, except to hang his head in shameful defeat.

"NO," Leo snaps, slamming his fists on the table by Mikey's side. "There HAS to be a way! I'm not letting his rescue and weeks of recovery go to waste like that! Mikey is coming home, END OF STORY!"

The group exchange glances between one another.

"Leo... None of us can do anything. None of us know what to... how to treat him, or..." April tries, though the tears stop her midway through the sentence and she breaks down crying in Raphael's arms, who buries his face in her curls to hide his own tears.

Leo looks around the room with a determined fury before his gaze falls on a horror-stricken Cassandra... guarding Dr. Finn.

Leo storms over to her, feet stomping so hard against the floor that he shakes the room.

He towers over her, commanding every ounce of burning anger to make him look as intimidating as possible and not reveal himself as the terrified and desperate child that he really is.

"YOU," he growls, pointing at her face. "FIX HIM. NOW."

"Excuse me?" Dr. Finn scoffs. "Why should I?"

"My brother is about to die. You were one of the head geneticists here, right? I want you to save his life."

Abigail Finn rolls her eyes and smirks at him.

"I repeat, why should I?"

"If you save him, I'll let you go," Leo promises dryly. "Simple as that."

"Leo--" Raph tries.

Leo raises his hand, effectively silencing Raph. This negotiation is happening, and he's gotten Finn's attention.

"Intriguing," she chuckles. "So, I save your little runt of a brother, I get to go? What assurances do I have that you won't follow me or something?"

"I don't have time to make a thousand promises to you," Leo growls, grabbing her shirt collar and lifting her off the ground from where she sits. "I will only say this once. You WILL save his life, because if he dies, then so will you," Leo threatens. "I'm not playing nice anymore. I'm not being the hero today. I'm just here to save my brother. You can either keep him alive, patch him up, and then leave by yourself, or I WILL kill you with my own bare hands."

Abigail stares him in the eyes, her face going pale. She rises to her feet and nods. Leo cuts her free from the phone cord used as a temporary restraint, and drags her by the arm to Mikey.

"Now. Save him."

"By any means?"

"Just," Leo heaves, his breath a growl as he glares the fear of God into her, "Save. Him."

"Fine," she grumbles, "You get the other one ready for the transfusion. You, kid," she points to Casey, "go find one of those frost guns and fast."

"F-frost gun?" Raph contests. "You're not gonna freeze him, are you?"

"If we can get his body to enter a cryogenic state, it will assist with the injuries while also keeping him sedated. The mutations on his metabolism will cause all functions to essentially be paused while his body is in the diapause state, and his heart rate will also be on hold, which should be in our favour as well..."

"Should?" April grills.

"Look, do you have an advanced degree and PhD in biology, genetics, and mutations? No? Didn't think so. Now go make yourself useful and find me a syringe. We need to drain the excess blood from his throat and possibly his lungs..."

The room erupts in missions -- Leo prepares the tourniquet and blood bag for Dee's donation, and Raph helps mentally prepare Donnie. Despite his readiness, Donnie cannot hide his absolute displeasure at having his fluids drained from his body like a juice box.

April finds the medical equipment Finn needs just as Casey comes running back in with a frost gun.

The operation begins...

Dr. Finn blasts Mikey with the gun. He doesn't react.

That's not a good sign...

Mikey's skin ices over, his hands clench in place, his limbs go rigid.

"Will... will he be okay?"

"He'll have one heck of a headache once he wakes up," Abigail sighs as she tosses the frost ray to the side. "And he might have a slight case of hypothermia or frostbite, but he'll be okay. Provided he actually survives the surgery. We might be too late."

"Then get. On. With. It," Leo snarls.

Abigail nods and starts to work, directing Casey Jones Jr. and Agent Bishop on what to do when removing the spike from Mikey's neck and how to patch it up. Abigail gets several vials of goo from a medical freezer and uses them in her treatments as well.

She tells Leo when to start the transfusion.

Donnie looks away from the needle and tube as his blood is harvested. Raph tells him not to think of it as 'harvesting'. Donnie snaps in irritation and waits a beat before apologizing to Raph for the snippy remark. Raph forgives him and holds him close.

April paces back and forth as she watches, trying to offer medical advice she'd learned from her mother. Eventually she gives up and goes to help Dee, who is not handling the transfusion very well and looks quite peaky.

Casey works as the nurse, assisting Dr. Finn with whatever she needs. Leo is not allowed to help since he's too much of an emotional wreck. He instead opts to go into a different room and trash the whole place while screaming to let off some steam before coming back in, a bit calmer. But not by much.

As Abigail works to cauterize and stitch up the wounds on his throat and abdomen, everyone takes the opportunity to approach Leo about what he meant by letting Abigail go free.

"You didn't actually mean that, right?"

"You were just saying that to get her to cooperate..."

"Do you have some big plan in mind? Is this a Leo scheme? It's a Leo scheme, isn't it??"

Leo's answer is almost always the same.

"I meant what I said."

Raph seems to be the only one to focus in on the second half of the promise he'd made.

"Would you really kill her if she didn't help us?"

Leo stays silent. Raph reaches over and pulls him into a side hug as he continues to hold Donnie, who had fainted from the experience of giving blood. He's currently drooling on Raph's arm. Leo sees this and huffs an empty chuckle at the sight.

Raph smiles and rubs his back. Leo looks back to Dr. Finn as she operates on Mikey. His smile fades quickly.

"...I was mad," he whispers.

"I know," Raph whispers back.

"I... I know it would be wrong. It wouldn't help anyone. It would just make it worse. I'm not that kind of guy."

"I know."

"...But yeah. If she had said 'no'... I think I would have snapped."

Leo starts crying at the realization.

"I'm not a bad person, Raph," he whimpers. "I'm not a killer... I-I'm not a spiteful or vengeful guy, I mean sure I pull the odd prank and yeah I can hold a grudge longer than the average Joe, but... b-but I promise I-I'm not -- I'm not --"

"I know," Raph repeats, bringing Leo closer as he continues to hold a Drowsytello. "I know. And I know that even if she said no, you wouldn't actually kill her. You're not that kind of person, no matter how much it feels like the world wants to break you. You're not that kind of person, Leo."

"I just want Mikey to be okay," Leo weeps. "I don't want it to be for nothing..."

"I know," Raph cries cradling his family, all too aware of how incomplete it feels without the youngest. "I know... I want him to come home, too."

.

.

.

Mikey wonders where he is. It's kinda dark... the world around him feels like it's moving in slow motion. Trapped in a deep and dark abyss of sleepy nothingness.

He tries to move, to speak, to think. It's all so exhausting. His mind is tar, clinging to his arms and legs and tail and keeping him engulfed in the exhaustion.

His eyes open.

A light....

There's a light above him...

Mikey reaches for it.

The light gets brighter, driving away the darkness and the sticky sludge that encompasses his form. The light grows and evolves, the rays giving off beams of blue, purple, red, and orange.

The light blinds him for a moment. When he opens his eyes again, Mikey finds himself in a familiar place.

Though he knows he's never been here before.

It is warm, loving, bright, and spacious. The air shimmers with sunlight, and yet there are stars and galaxies that sparkle in the sky.

Flowers that he's never seen before blossom and bloom in the fresh green grass beneath his feet. The wind is cool, the sun is warm, the ground is soft. It feels like a dream... and yet too real to be a dream.

Mikey feels a hand take his.

He turns to see a middle-aged woman with raven hair and a storm blue robe smiling at him. He feels like he knows her somehow. He smiles back at her, unsure why he's so comfortable around her but accepts it regardless.

"Hello."

"Hello, dear one," she replies with a kind and rosy chuckle. "It's lovely to see you again. Would you me show you around?"

"Yes please," Mikey nods.

She gently pulls him along, directing him down the rolling hills to meet the others that wait for him...

.

.

.

Abigail Finn works under anxious stress as every single pair of eyes in the room watches her with anticipation and furious hate.

Well, she can hate them right back.

Once she finishes patching up Mikey's neck abdomen, she turns to Leo.

"How much did you get?" she asks, in reference to the transfusion.

"A pint," he says dryly.

"Let's get it ready, then," Abigail nods, pulling the blood bag close and having Leo assist with the tubing and needle. "But first we need to thaw the body out."

Leo nearly gags at her calling Mikey 'the body'. It makes it sound like he's a carcass, already dead...

W-which he isn't. Most definitely not. Mikey's going to make it.

"ɪ ʙᴇʟɪᴇᴠᴇ ɪ ᴄᴀɴ ᴀꜱꜱɪꜱᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴀᴛ," Fugitoid says, volunteering for duty to thaw him out. "ɪ ꜱʜᴏᴜʟᴅ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ꜱᴘᴇᴄɪᴀʟ ᴋɪɴᴅ ᴏꜰ ᴄᴏɴᴅɪᴛɪᴏɴɪɴɢ ᴜɴɪᴛ ᴏʀ ʜᴇᴀᴛɪɴɢ ᴀᴅᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴡɪᴛʜɪɴ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴍᴏᴅᴇʟ, ᴀɴᴅ --"

"That's great, Tin Man, just hurry and warm him up please," Leo interjects.

Abigail and Honeycutt exchange awkward glances at each other before she backs away and allows him to heat up Mikey, melting off the permafrost that adorns his epidermis.

Mikey's body is pale, ashen scales and spotted skin shockingly desaturated. But little by little, as he warms up he regains colour.

His chest rises a microscopic amount as he weakly inhales. But his pulse is slowly falling.

"Once his body reaches a normal temperature," Abigail explains, "then you can administer the transfusion."

"Meaning you won't do it?" Leo spouts off, glaring at her.

"Meaning, I held up my end of the deal. Now I think you can handle it from here, right?" she challenges. "I want my get-out-of-jail-free card."

Leo inhales deeply. His hands clench into fists as he tries to control his rage.

He exhales deeply.

"Fine. Get out of here."

Abigail's eyes widen before she runs to grab her bag and jet. As she hurries out the door, Leo snags her by the elbow.

"But if I ever see your face again, I'll make sure you experience every pain you caused my brother. Got it? ¿Entiende eso, señora?"

Abigail nods slowly, her face dead-set but white as a sheet. She pulls her arm free from his grip and walks away, disappearing down the hall, never to be seen again.

"...Leo?" April whispers, nervous for her friend. "You okay?"

He slowly turns around, expression dark but determined.

"...Let's get the blood exchange started before his heart rate drops any lower... Oh, and someone should call Dad and Draxum."

.

.

.

Mikey is dazzled by the wondrous and simplistic beauty of this place.

It's so calming and pure. The woman shows him around the fields before bringing him to a tiny series of houses and cottages built in a traditional Japanese style. There are elderly people in cloaks and hoods, young men dressed as samurai, women and their families. There's even a few kids here, which makes Mikey sad for some reason.

His eyes fall on a young woman in green, her hair pulled back in a long ponytail. She's laughing with an older bald man, who holds her close and laughs with her. They turn and see Mikey, and wave hello to him. He finds himself waving back.

"Who are they?" he asks.

"Hamato Karai and her father, Oroku Saki," the woman explains.

"Oh." Mikey feels like that should clear things up, but it doesn't. "And... sorry, who are you?"

"My name is Hamato Atsuko," she replies with an airy giggle. "You wouldn't remember me anyways, so don't feel bad. We were never properly introduced. But I would recognize my grandson anywhere!"

"Grand...?"

"Follow me," Atsuko says gently, patting his hand and gently tugging him along the path.

Mikey wonders why everyone here is so familiar... why this place feels like home... Why he feels like he's dreaming...

"Am... Am I dea--"

"Here we are!" Atsuko proclaims, extending her arms and showing off a very beautiful minka.

There are vines of blossoms hanging from the roof, draping like curtains that follow the wrap-around porch. Multi-coloured lanterns adorn the pagoda. It's not a mansion or a castle, but it's still pretty big for just one person. Mikey notices that there are several doors around the house, each one painted a special colour.

Red. Purple. Blue. Grey. Even Yellow, a darker Burgundy, a deep Teal, and a Magenta.

Mikey approaches a bright Orange door with a symbol like a turtle shell and nunchucks carved into the door.

"This is our stop," Atsuko says, as Mikey places a hand on the smooth wooden aperture. "Go on, go inside!"

Mikey takes in a breath, and pushes the door open.

Another bright light engulfs him.

Prev || Next

[obae-me]

hii, i hope you're having a good day. I love your writing and I was wondering if you could do the "bros being protective" with diavolo, barbatos, simeon and solomon.

The people have spoken! And I shall answer! Please accept this as a late holiday gift! We shall have more protective headcanons! I hope hope hope I did the datables justice!  

They’ll Always Protect You Too

TW: Mild Violence. More violence is implied. Threats. As Always, Read Safely!

_____________________________________________

Diavolo

It was a miracle. Somehow, you and Diavolo managed to find a time where you could spend the day together. And by miracle, that means you assisted the prince into sneaking out of his own castle. Otherwise, you'd both never get to be out on your own. Sure, the ruler of the devildom could by all means order everyone to leave him alone, but the both of you knew that either Barbatos or Lucifer would find some way to keep an eye on him.

So, feeling like a rebellious teen in a cliché Coming-of-Age movie, Diavolo snuck out while Barbatos was distracted. He tried to disguise himself by wearing casual clothes, wearing a jacket with a hood over his head. Of course...it didn’t hide him all too well. There’s not many in the Devildom with his grand stature and booming voice. But one could hope...and pretend. 

He wanted this to be a normal day with no royally annoying responsibilities.

Of course, he hadn't really done anything like this before, so he didn't know quite what to do, so you suggested walking around. You could get something to eat, window shop, whatever you both wanted.

For a time, everything went swell. You both had a bite to eat, making sure no pickles were involved. You looked around shops, and while people were absolutely turning their head to make sure that they really did see the prince of their realm strolling down the street, no one said anything or bothered you two. 

That was till Diavolo got a call. He’d been found out, and from the sounds of it, a fretting Barbatos was on the other line. It’s odd to hear the butler worry so much, so with an apologetic grin, Diavolo stepped away from you for a moment to assure Barbatos that all was well. 

You turned, going to pace just a few steps down the street before a demon bumped into you, staggering you backwards. Their D.D.D. fell out of their hands and onto the floor. “Whoa! Sorry there,” they actually apologized. 

“Oh...uh...no worries.” Still a little stunned from the abrupt encounter, you bent down to pick up their device for them.

The demon snatched it from the ground before you could even touch it. “Say, weren’t you just at Café Lament earlier?” Finding it a weird question, you struggled to respond. This, they took as a confirmation. “I knew it! You looked familiar! The human for the exchange program, yeah?” Again, they didn’t give you much time to answer. “Aren’t you staying at the House of Lamentation?” Why did they want to know so much about you? And why were they not letting you speak? “Who was that demon with you then? Didn’t look like any of the Seven Sins.” This was beginning to lead down a road that made your stomach churn. “Are you out here alone?”

"They are not." It was a simple declaration, but a strong one, a wave of power washing over you both, raw magic filling the air, flooding your lungs as if you had just inhaled a cloud of smoke. The other demon felt it too, freezing in place, suddenly aware that they were messing with the wrong person. You were gently pulled, being suddenly moved behind Diavolo's back. His first instinct was to put himself between the two of you. He did not shout, he did not fight, he simply stood there, slowly lowering his hood to reveal his face. "If there is something you need from them, you can ask me."

The demon's eyes grew wide from sheer panic. If there's one rule down here demons do follow, it's to not tick off the prince. They stuttered, immediately falling into this act of false respect, bowing their head towards their ruler. "I-I was simply curious about the program, your majesty. Of course, I only wanted to learn about your wisdom first-hand and I-"

"Enough," Diavolo simply raised his hand, the demon silencing immediately. If he did so with a spell or simply sheer intimidation you did not know. "You are dismissed." Those words were laced with magic so powerful, you almost turned and left yourself, but Diavolo kept his arm near you...kept you close.

For the other demon, however, they began to walk backward, their body betraying them as the order from the prince flooded their bones. They kept moving with their head bowed till they were several feet away from you. Only then did they snap out of it, looking around them in a fearful daze before they ran off.

Diavolo remained in place, shoulders squared, suddenly aware of the whispers of others, the public looking on. He whispered to you, guiding you away from everyone else, using his body to keep you out of sight. “Let us...return to the castle.” He said nothing till you both were on castle grounds, the gate shutting behind you. Then he turned, his posture sagging slightly as he no longer felt the need to be so regal. His words were assertive but not aggressive. “Are you alright?” 

How could you be truthful when someone like Diavolo was right in front of you? You knew he was a prince, but sometimes you forgot...how real that royal status was. “I’m...I...I’m okay.” 

His lips parted as his jaw dropped ever so slightly. His eyes narrowed in a bit of pain. “You don’t need to act around me. My title is simply that, just a title. Sure, I may be a prince, but don’t you see more to me than that?” 

You looked away from him for a moment, but then nodded. He was more to you than just a prince. “I’m a little frazzled, but they didn’t do anything to me. You came just in time.” 

He managed a smile, sighing in relief. “I’m glad for that at least.” He gestured towards the castle, the two of you walking. He fell back just enough to stand with you shoulder to shoulder. “I’m sorry today didn’t go quite as planned. Shall we spend the rest of the day here with just us? No one will bother you. You and I are free to be just who we are without having to fear the consequences.” 

Barbatos

For the love of Diavolo, give this man more of a break. 

Even on his day off--his royally ordered day off--he still was thinking about grabbing groceries and other various items for the castle or for Diavolo. “The dining hall could use new drapes,” he had said. “I am running rather low on tea, what if a guest arrives?” He had fretted. “As it happens, I am currently on the hunt for a particular set of antique measuring cups,” he informed you. Perhaps work never really ends as a demonic butler. Although that last bit of information did seem more personal than the others...

So, the heavy duty of convincing the butler to do something for himself for a change now rested on your shoulders. At the rather desperate request of the prince, you might add. Of course, at your simple suggestion of heading out, he expressed how happy he was to do something with you. 

Sometimes two and two really does just equal four. 

So you both took the time to go on a lovely stroll. To avoid getting him to think about work, you brought up the idea to find a more scenic route of the town, leading him away from shops and places where he could start checking off his errand list. 

He agreed, leading you through a lovely public garden and up to an overlook, the two of you peering down at the busy buzzing demons that scurried around the Devildom. 

Then your peaceful moment was interrupted by a ringtone. With a polite ‘pardon me for a moment’, Barbatos took the call. Guess someone finally contacted him with an offer for the aforementioned antique measuring cups. Good for him, he deserved something nice like that. 

You allowed him his privacy, wandering a little ways away to look at a lovely flowerbed with several glowing flowers. Only, as you crouched down to observe the petals, some stranger did the same thing right next to you. “Aren’t these gorgeous?” The demon asked, acting unfazed as you flinched, startled at the sudden appearance. 

You stood, moving around to the other side of the public flowerbed to give yourself some personal space. “Y-yeah, they’re...nice.” 

…The demon mimicked your movements, coming around so they were shoulder to shoulder with you. You felt like you could hardly breathe with them being so close...

Now was the time to leave, you figured, before the situation escalated. So you took a step forward...only to find the demon was now blocking your path, standing directly in front of you, hands in their pockets, keeping you from moving on. “Why the rush? We were having a good talk, weren’t we?” What talk? The single mention of the flowers? “Stay with me a while...We have a lot we can talk about.” Their hand outstretched to grab you. 

All the sudden, a swirling portal crackled into existence behind the demon. Neither of you had time to fully comprehend what was happening before rattling chains shot forth from the other side, wrapping around their limbs, entangling the demon in their grasp. “Wh-what is this?” The demon shrieked, struggling. They had no time to ask any questions. With a brisk tug, the demon was pulled into the magical void. 

When the portal closed, Barbatos was behind it, tucking his D.D.D. back into his pocket. For a moment, you could’ve sworn the relatively calm and neutral expression had vanished, a frown and furrowed brows framing angry glowing eyes. But you blinked and that image was gone, replaced by his typical pristine smile. 

“I...what was that?” You asked, head still spinning at the whole situation. 

He took a few steps closer to you, making sure that you were unharmed by checking you over. “That was me simply doing my upmost to keep the city streets free of...” He had to actually pause to think of the proper word. “Needless commotion.” 

“Where...where did they go?” You couldn’t help but ask. 

“If you really must know, just to one of the castle’s holding cells. There they can mull over their mistakes and relearn some common manners.” You stared at him, wondering what to properly say in a situation like this. Something seemed to chip away at him the longer you looked at him. “Trust me,” he ended up saying. “I had seen enough to know where it was going. I won’t waste time when it comes to you and your safety.” Once more, a flicker of honest emotion brushed over him. Just for a second. A look of worry, of pain. “Not again.” Then it was gone, and he simply smiled once more as he brushed away a winkle in your clothing. “Shall we head back to the castle?” 

���What about those cups you wanted to get?” 

He put a gentle gloved hand on the back of your shoulder as he turned you towards the direction the castle was in. “I can always retrieve those later. There are more important things to attend to right now. Tell me, what kind of treats would you like me to make for you today?” 

Solomon

He...he asked you to come because of some emergency...The voicemail had been brief and cryptic. Something about ‘the end of times’ and ‘terrible mistakes’--it was hard to make out the message when a sound like roaring wind kept washing out his voice. So of course, you ran over to Purgatory Hall as fast as you could, breathless, prepared for an apocalypse, only to find him standing outside waiting with a smile. Cheeky wizard. Had he really done all that just to get you to come spend time with him? Not that you necessarily felt like complaining. Living in different dorms meant that you didn’t see each other as often as some of the others. 

Besides, it always felt like he was busy doing something. Not that he would ever tell anyone what it was he was working on, some spell or plot of some kind. Something that he always taunted was just out of your magical league, or something that your mortal mind would struggle to comprehend. Possibly just all a scheme to get you to study harder…and possibly one that was working. 

Anyways, that was no longer the point. The focus now was on what you would be doing for the remainder of the day. He had a list of all the Devildom’s most fascinating shops, ones that contained relics and essentially fancy highly-sought-after dust-covered objects. You agreed to go along with him on the exception that you both would go out and get something nice to drink. After making a mad dash all the way over here, you were now quite parched. Any longer, and you would yourself be a relic. 

He laughed at your joke and that was that, going so far as to buy you a drink from one of the local cafes. Now you were both ‘even’, as far as he was concerned, perhaps making up for his little crank-call earlier. 

Speaking of a call...

You recognized the sound of some of the brother’s voices on the other end of Solomon’s phone, all shouting through the speakers. Apparently some sort of cursed spell went haywire and was causing havoc through the House. When there’s something weird, and it don’t look good, who you gonna call? King Solom--Nah, doesn’t have the same ring to it. Although, Solomon really should think of charging some kind of fee for fixing so many magical mishaps. 

That train of thought aside, Solomon gave you a slight humorous roll of the eyes, walking away from you as he tried to solve the problem over the phone. 

You figured you’d check your D.D.D. Maybe the group chat had some fun messages in it. You’d hardly even unlocked your device when a demon approached you out of nowhere, backing you up against a wall. They were uncomfortably close. 

“Excuse me,” you scoffed, going to move out of the way, but the demon slammed their hand against the wall, keeping you from moving. But that wasn’t going to stop you. You ducked under their arm and backed up. 

They glared, still silent, still not sharing their intentions. They started to approach you again. 

Time to go. 

You dashed into an alleyway, rushing through till you were on the other side, trying to blend into the crowd. You didn’t dare look behind you yet, simply swerving around people and weaving yourself through a maze of pathways, trying to ensure you’d lost the demon. 

The moment you finally decided you’d turn around, someone grabbed your arm. 

Before you could even think it through, your mouth was already speaking a spell. “Spirit of wind, protect me!” You quickly turned, palm facing your attacker. 

A burst of wind rushed from your body. The impact was so forceful, it pushed you back, falling to the ground while the person who had grabbed you was a few feet away from you. They groaned a bit under a mess of now wind-swept white hair. 

It was not the demon. It was Solomon. 

You quickly got back up on your feet and to his side, pulling him by the arm to help him stand. “I’m so sorry!” As you were helping him, you noticed some bruising on one of his hands, all focused around the knuckles. “I thought...there was a demon and they...” 

Before he spoke, Solomon simply chuckled, straightening once he was properly upright. “I was worried about you for a moment, but it seems maybe I shouldn’t have been.” After he dusted himself off, he scanned you over for injuries. “Are you okay?” 

Still trying to catch your breath, you looked around, trying to spot the demon that was chasing you. “I...think so, I don’t see them around.” 

Something flashed behind his eyes as he smiled. “You must’ve shaken them off. Good job. And that spell you casted? It was nearly perfect.” 

Once the facts were starting to settle in, you realized where you were...how far you had managed to make it before Solomon caught up with you. You were nearly on the street you normally took to make it back to Purgatory Hall. Had you run this way subconsciously or...was there more to it than that? You raised an eyebrow at the other human. “How...How did you find me?”

He hummed a bit, amused, putting a finger to his lips. “A sorcerer never reveals his secrets.” He then used that finger to point down the street. “We’re nearly home anyway, so why don’t we head back?” 

Before you moved, you wanted confirmation for your suspicions. “Did I hurt you?” You gestured towards his hand, and for a second, you watched his all-clever expression fall into an exhausted one. 

“You did not, no. Don’t worry about me.” He looked at his knuckles and let out a single breathy laugh. “Didn’t even feel it. Guess I’m getting older, huh?” 

You shook your head at him, a bit in disbelief both at the joke and at the thought of the ‘wise wizard Solomon’ throwing back-alley punches. “Guess I owe you one, don’t I? Thank you for saving me.” 

The joking halted, Solomon waving you over so you could walk side by side as you headed back to the Hall. “No need to thank me for this one. I’m just glad to see you safe...even if you did hit me with a spell.” Okay, so there was still a little joking. “But if you still feel like you owe me, how about...staying with me for the rest of the day?” 

  Simeon

The angel had been working much too hard as of late. Not only does he have to watch over the Devildom’s smallest guardian angel, Luke, but he does have to essentially manage the Devildom’s oldest human, Solomon. On top of those two, he was working on a new writing project. Night after night he would work on this manuscript, writing himself right into a horrid bout of writer’s block. A travesty in two parts. 

It had been decided. Simeon needed some fresh air. 

Spending some time outside away from the responsibilities of Purgatory Hall would do him some good both physically and creatively. Maybe being around you for the better part of the day would bring down some divinely timed inspiration. 

Regardless of the outcome, Simeon simply beamed when you came all the way over to the Hall to ask him to come with you to the heart of town. He was quite literally glowing, a faint light shimmering behind the silhouette of his body. Of course, he did feel a bit guilty leaving Luke and Solomon home alone together, but he promised to bring them both home a little gift. He was always sweet like that.

You let him tell you what he was working on while you both walked, glad to hear him talk so passionately about something of his. He shared with you his outline, his plot, his main character...and you couldn't help but notice some...similarities between your story and this protagonist of his. But you couldn't be fully sure if that was his intention, after all, creators take bits and pieces of the world around them to make their art. But...knowing him...and his stories...it was absolutely based off of you.

However, before you were able to question him on his choice of character creation, he got a phone call. Without thinking, he answered it, not even checking to see who was calling. Luckily, it was only Luke. Unluckily, the angel was very upset, apparently near tears at some scary movie Solomon had shown him.

With an empathetic 'oh dear', Simeon stepped aside to do his best to console the little angel.

You watched him move away from you with a little smile, shaking your head a little as you wished Simeon the best of luck in your mind.

“Excuse me,” a sudden voice called out from behind you. You turned to face a demon, one you had never met before. “I was wondering if you could help me with something.” 

Immediately, a little feeling settled into your gut. One might call it paranoia, the other would call it intuition. You didn’t trust this demon one bit. “I...uh, am not sure I’d be of much help. Perhaps if you asked someone else you-” 

“I didn’t want to ask someone else, I wanted to ask you.” …Man did you hate it when your gut was right. The demon stepped closer, the look across their face a bit more sinister than before. “Are you saying you don’t want to help me? That’s rather rude.” 

You took a step back, and then the demon grabbed your wrist. 

All the sudden, a bright light flashed behind you. The demon quickly let go of you, shielding their eyes as they were suddenly blinded. What was it? An explosion? A flashbang? Then the light faded, the sound of footsteps coming up behind you. 

The first thing Simeon did was gently lift your wrist, making sure you were unharmed. It was a bit sore, sure, but nothing terrible. He ran his fingers over it before letting your hand fall back to your side. With a slow turn, he looked at the demon and smiled. 

He said nothing. Not a thing. Just stared, an unwavering ring of light around his irises. 

The demon didn’t like that. Blinking spots out of their vision, they growled.  “Damn angel.” 

“Do you wish to atone?” Simeon finally asked, his usual friendly tone now a serious one as cold as Lucifer’s. The demon didn’t reply, considering their options, wondering if they would rather fight or flee. A spotlight then seemed to shine over the demon, every part of them uncovered under this warm glow. The warmth then seemed to grow hotter, the air humming with magic. “Or would you rather experience Celestial Retribution?” 

You struggled to see with all the light, trying to shade your view with a hand in front of your face. But you heard the demon run more than you saw it, listening to them curse obscenities before scrambling away. The light only faded after the demon was long gone. 

When you were able to see the angel again, his face was covered in shadow, his head tilted downwards. “Simeon...” 

In a few quick steps, he suddenly had you in a hug, releasing his nerves and his anger in a long sigh. “Thank heavens you are alright. I’d never be able to forgive myself if something happened to you.” He pulled himself back and rested both hands on your shoulders. “You’re not hurt right?” 

“Yeah, I’m-” You were going to say ‘yeah, I’m not’ but were cut off by the angel before you could finish. 

“You are?!” He actually raised his voice a little, emotions running high through him. 

“I meant no! I’m not!” 

He dropped his hands and took a deep breath, collecting himself. “Forgive me.” He put his hand over his chest and closed his eyes, waiting until he was properly composed before reaching that same hand over to you should you want to take it. “Shall we both head back to the Hall? I think we both would feel better away from the crowds. Plus, I think Luke would feel much better after seeing you again.” He still looked at you with worried eyes. “Don’t stray too far from me. I don’t think my heart could take another scare.” 

[fatefought]

now it's the president's opportunity to hum. his knowledge of mass production is general, but vast enough. he'd been to the factories where peacekeepers' attire was produced. there's brick buildings that screamed gray even before coming with the doors. the supply line was an adept tool of its time. they talk about detroit ... a city before the time of panem in the capitol's history books. whether or not the factory tactic originated there, it seemed the city perfected it. it's interesting that the factories for the sterile uniforms was in somewhere like district two, but he appreciated the efficiency of it all. no need to correct the young woman however. he wasn't talking about pieces that any and everyone could acquire ; no, rather he was implying some models are better seen and not heard.

" there's always a time and place for it. our dear friend caesar flickerman as charismatic as a spokesman he is surely we're both relieved he's retreated to cool colors rather than his former warm. it suits him. someone had mentioned a coordinated outfit between him and a possible victor. the audience will surely prove to have an inclination towards the spectacle. " tone isn't laced the way it might be with constantinus or plutarch heavensbee. of course, coriolanus is aware of the comradeship between the two fashionistas. very few things move around snow. whether it's through his beady eyes, recorded confirmation, or someone's unzipped lips, he always finds things out. certain dynamic flash a sense of unease for the president, this one does not. when they dazzle a screen, people are either envious or fill with pride for the capitol. the end result is agreeable all the same.

domitila is spritely. he is not unaware of the superficial tendencies those from the city flaunt. they're miles above those from the districts, he will not hesitate to internally acknowledge. however, he sees the flicker. the python is observant. she's humoring him, so she must know that he's only putting on an act in the allowance. nevertheless, she's brighter for not calling his bluff. " legacy is the only thing left behind when one no longer walks the earth. have you considered what yours might be if today meant your final breath ? " he's said these words before. sometimes it's evident the threat is there. domitila has nothing to worry about, yet. though there's been tumultuous stylists before, she appears to be one of the good ones.

it's an interesting assumption, but she knows the answer right away; still, she hums, as if pondering on it, hoping the pause as she thinks would make her seem not as impulsive. "that is the basis of mass production, sir. you make one design and hope it fits all. it's a comfortable thing to do, i will admit, but i'm past that. i do prefer making something for each model, make it their own. that's why the games are such an invigorating challenge." she had always dreamed of working somewhere within the games, too — with her late uncle as a gamemaker for several years, she had been enchanted, but unable to take on the role; it's for the best, as her creativity lies not in wrecking people, but making them pretty. sure being a gamemaker has other appeals, but she's as happy as she can be in her line of work, with several victors under her belt (and somewhere in her body, a star for each victor she's brought out of the shadows).

the president's opinions are taken in attentively, and the compliment makes her beam. "thank you sir. i do believe it is fitting to most tributes and victors, even if it can look gaudy in some people." she's just buttering him up. she adores red, loves the gems in that color, and the way it can be a reminder that the games and the people who survive it are all covered in blood. she can see, however, how it is less attractive for a man like the president — not that she finds him harmful or even malicious, but it's good to keep one's good reputation. and coriolanus snow has a great one as far as she can tell. "i imagine. my mother always tells me of her society meetings and at times she crosses paths with the first lady." domitila did listen to her mother, even if she did not heed to her advice all the time. marilia may have needed a change of husband to make it back into notoriety, but domitila would rather not fall that low (maybe in twenty years, we'll see). nevertheless, she makes a mental note about setting apart a moment to call the assistant, who would certainly prioritize her when she knew who told her to do so.

"you are too kind, sir." and a liar. no one wants their children to be escorts — that's the same as joining the circus, or the long deactivated zoo downtown. "i think a second president snow would be interesting. you'd be instaling a dynasty of your own." she knows that the snow are very old money, but coriolanus was the first to achieve a mandate in the highest role in politics. "idealism is good in politics, but no one makes far by having a too-soft heart. i'm sure she will see the benefits of a position like that! my half-sibling struggled for a moment, but now they are on the path to become a gamemaker themselves."

[artandhijinks]

My experience with the worst most toxic parts of the IWTV fandom

Okay, there are going to be details here that are changed or admitted for obvious mostly safety reasons. And I personally don't care if you think I'm lying, but it was still a scary experience and I do think there are people in the fandom that need to be aware this crap goes on all over fictional characters. So warning they're going to be mentions of threats a violence, doxing, harassment, the works, It was bad.

Okay a few months ago. I kicked the hornets nest when it comes to the worst part of the interview with the vampire fandom. I had engaged in some fan discourse. Made a couple of posts. A lot of it had to do with defending the added diversity with the casting of Assad and Jacob. Theorizing about possible characters in the future that can be race swapped how it could be a good thing and how it could be historically possible. You get the idea. I love what the show is done with all the race swapping it has added so much to the story.

And then all the sudden I woke up to my inbox being full of over 100 anonymous ask that ranged from the average calling me evil racist. I didn't know the books. How dare I it was ruining the story. I should kill myself. The usual online internet harassment. It was horrible. And they kept on coming and would not stop until I shut off anonymous ask. And they will remain off because of this but again I had well over 100 messages to go through. And it took me well over a week to go through them but when I got to like the last I think 10 one of them stuck out. Not because it was particularly bad because apparently I pissed off the Armand people who don't realize how creepy it is and kind of comes off as pro pedophilia when all of you insist that he has to be 17 much less the racist issues. There's a reason it took me over a week to go through all the messages they made my skin crawl. But this particular message scared the crap out of me it was a death threat with my home address. Someone cared so much about a fictional character. They tracked down my address and threaten to kill me. So guess who immediately started screenshotting the rest of the messages. And had to make a police report. Do you know what it's like having to explain to cops? Yes, I got a death threat with my address over a fictional gay vampire. No, getting death threats over Tumblr is not new to me unfortunately, but my address was new and that I want documented. So being harassed by a couple racist book purists turned into a police report and me buying security cameras. Thank you Tumblr. I nearly deleted the app.

I don't even know if I want to finish the Vampire Chronicles books now because of you idiots you took it way too far. And the worst part is I'm white. I can only imagine what you idiots are doing to the fans of color. Again someone tracked down my address to threaten to kill me. But again it's documented. I filed a police report and if any of you idiots try something I got cameras now.

And for all those who are going to be demanding proof well I thought about sharing a redacted screenshot or maybe a redacted version of the police report. But I decided I would ask the cops what they thought just to be safe. I'm glad I did because they advised me not to do that and they explained to me there is technology out there that if someone really wanted to they can remove that redacting. And I already have one crazy person that knows my address and is threatening to kill me so I don't want another one. So everyone is just going to have to take my word for it. However the cops were all for me sharing my story because of the rise of things like swatting. A in a nearby police department had to deal with a middle schooler (so a 11 to 13-year-old) who made a bomb threat at their school because they didn't want to take a test. So, they think this would be good for people to hear because what you do on the internet does have real life consequences.

So remember people the internet is real life. These things have real life consequences. And I'm pretty sure these people thought it was a joke. But now I have to worry about things like someone breaking into my house killing me or swatting. Which is something I didn't even think of until the cops brought it up. And it does affect my real life. I'm looking to move and hopefully we'll be out of my house soon. So, thank you, Internet stranger

So to sum it all up. The fandom needs to take a bunch of chill pills and calm down. Because we are literally harassing, bullying and threatening people out of the fandom. Again, I thought about leaving Tumblr due to this experience and now I'm having to move. Thank you. Interview with the vampire fandom please do better.

[byyliss]

Congrats twitter, you might have driven someone to suicide. Like, what the fuck is genunely wrong with all of you?

I get that all of you who still for some reason believe in Ven and DB don't like that people are pointing out the amount of bs they put in that Google doc and follow up posts that just proved that they aren't victims of shit. But to go out and harrass anyone that points that out? Send death threats? Tell them to k*ll themselves?

Genuenly, what the actual fuck is wrong with all of you?

Stop pretending you want to fight against pedophiles, that you want to help victims. This is bullshit and you all know it.

The reason that you are doing all of this is because you guys want to hurt people, you want to feel morally superior while doing so. So whenever an allegation comes out that dehumanizes a popular person, you get trigger happy and jump on the mob to drive that person to the edge, along with anyone that tries to keep calm and actually stay neutral.

If you guys have no issue sending death threats to someone just because of an internet disagreement, you are all worse then Alex kister and anyone else you persecuted.

At least Kister isn't proven to be a rotten asshole. You all on the other hand

If you think this is ok in any fucking way, you are genunely devoid of humanity. I cant even say that you are broken because that could imply that you had some humanity to begin with.

Fucking rotten.

[rowiewritesstuff]

Yandere Tarn from MTMTE pls?

MTMTE Yandere Tarn X Reader

Tarn detested humans- so for you to get his attention you’d have to have something helpful or interesting about you.

The DJD was visiting a bar after a day of refilling their supplies. They weren’t going to go, but Nickel said that they should cut loose once in a while. There, a human tackled Nickels’ bottom half with a hug. 

Tarn was instantly protective, but a surprising hello from Nickel to you had him backing off. You looked up with wide eyes to see Tarn.

“HOLY- Wow! Tarn, it’s an honor to meet you!” You grinned up at him. “I’m a huuuuge fan of your work!” All of the DJD was stumped by your excited behavior. 

Nickel face palmed and pushed you off. “DJD, (Y/N). (Y/N), DJD.” She looked up to Tarn. “We met on the colony forever ago. They were one of the only humans there- who for some reason was attached to me.” 

They looked confused and Vos spoke up in his language. You answered, surprising everyone yet again. “Yeah, there was a weird explosion thingy and now I’m kinda old. I think I’m like… a few hundred years now? I don’t know. I heal quickly now so it’s hard for things to kill me.” 

Vos asked you how you knew the language. “Uh, I dunno. I just learned it over time. I can’t speak it though, our voice boxes are different from each other's”

The DJD spent a longer amount of time there than they had expected so that you and Nickel could catch up. While Nickel pretended to be annoyed by you, she was actually really happy to see you. You were the only organic she ever tolerated. 

The rest of the DJD got along with you pretty well too, despite them being off put by your fleshiness. Tarn had a hard time however, as he hated organics a lot more than most of the others. 

When Nickel asked if you could travel with them, Tarn said no. After a glare from Nickel and a few convincing words from the others, you packed up what little belongings you had and made yourself at home on the Peaceful Tyranny. 

Tarn had avoided you for a hot minute, but everyone else learned that you were an amazing person. You helped Nickel patch them up after fights, and even upgraded some of their weapons. Vos loved your input on his experiments, even if he’d never admit it. You often put together what he failed to. 

Eventually, you and Tarn were in a room alone. He noticed you were reading ‘Towards Peace’. 

“Is this your first time reading that?” He asked you. 

You didn’t even look up from your book as you mumbled at him. “No, I’ve lost count how many times I’ve read it.”

Tarn grew a little respect for you then. “What do you think of it?” He sat up in his chair.

You finally looked up at him with a small frown on your face. He didn’t expect anything good from your expression. “I love it. Its words are weaved so intricately, and these are words everyone should live by. Megatron, though? He should die for betraying the Decepticon cause. He’s a traitor and should be treated as such.” 

Tarn’s eyes widened from behind his mask. While the DJD read the book, you seemed much more dedicated to it. From that moment on, you and Tarn would often have political discussions. You both would argue about small, odd wordings in the text. You were actually the only one who was ever allowed to disagree with him on wordings, because no matter what you still had the same general ideals. 

Tarn had realized that despite being organic, you were honorable. He looked up files on you in the Decepticons’ database only to find that you were a simple clerk for the Decepticon cause. You were an honorary Decepticon- though not technically one at all. Tarn began getting closer to you, often being seen carrying you on his shoulder.

One day, the Peaceful Tyranny docked on a Decepticon-Friendly planet. You were in awe the entire time at the pure beauty of it. The sun was similar to Earth’s, though the sky was a pale purple. The moss that coated the ground was a pale blue, and the animals were adorable. 

You bumped Nickel a little bit. “I think this is where I get off, Nicks.” 

She smiled sadly at you. “I figured. You always were one for simple beauty. I’ll help you pack up to go.”

You packed your bags quickly, only having three to begin with. When you entered the main room you saw the rest of the DJD. You grinned up at them. “Well, thank you guys so much for your hospitality. I’ll hopefully see you guys again.” 

Everyone seemed a little sad to see you go. Right as you began your departure from the ship you were scooped up into a servo. 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Tarn’s crimson optics looked down at you. “You have become part of this ship, and it would be so unfortunate if you were to leave so soon. 

“I’m sorry, Tarn. I never like to stay in one place for too long.” You frowned.

“My apologies. I didn’t mean to make it seem like you had a choice.” This caused the room to feel cold. You looked up at tarn with a nervous grin. 

“Th-that’s not funny, Tarn. Put me down please.” 

Nickel glared at the tall bot. “Tarn, put them down.”

Tarn glared back at Nickel and to you. “No. You will remain aboard this ship- it’s dangerous for Decepticons off board these days.”

Kaon tried to speak up for you, but a simple glare was enough to silence him. 

You tried to jump down but he tightened his grip on you. Everyone felt tense and some even left the room. You looked down at Nickel who only looked away. She could only do so much to help you. 

Tarn tilted your chin up to look at him. “It’s alright. I’ll treat you the same as any loyal Decepticon.”

“Then why don’t you let me go?” You felt tears building up in your eyes as the large bot petted your head gently.

Tarn hummed at you while beginning the trek to his berthroom. “While you are a loyal Decepticon, you are still an organic who doesn’t know what’s best for them. Don’t worry- you’ll be taken care of. Unless, of course, you’re a traitor?” His eyes left you paralyzed. All you could do was stutter a quiet ‘no’ out. “Good. You do know what we do to traitors, after all.”

[fatefought]

a mutt can be trained. even when pedigrees are less than ideal, proper conditioning can still lead to a diligent pet of sorts. coriolanus snow viewed the victors as shiny trinkets to collect and utilize all in the same. those who understand the importance of submission to the greater scheme can find a more favorable experience within the capitol. truly, the president doesn't request for much. but if a canine forgets to remain loyal to the hand that which feeds them, he isn't above a simple but stern reminder. they always collapse back into their designated place. time and time again, it proves consistently true.

finnick odair particularly displeases the official with his insolence. such a strategist should understand better. though snow remains infinite steps ahead, one would assume a bright gentleman like the man from four would at least see one or two feet ahead of his own actions. " my boy, " he greets the victor not dissimilarly to one of his grandboys. constantinus will one day prove as disingenuous as the trophy before coriolanus. " please take a seat. we have so much to discuss. "

pleasantries remain in essence as libations that he knows mister odair fancies are spread on the grand desk. however, there is no feigning a grin. instead, face remains stoic. though the younger man's actions have been foolish as of late, there's no importance to be gained in such dishonesty. he's an intelligent man, one who doesn't require a hand to hold to see the blatant. " my deep apologies for disrupting your long-distance call with miss cresta. i understand congratulations are in order natheless. " there's a pause in the air: an opportunity to address the known.

Closed Starter | @fatefought | The Capitol: Snow's Office | 74th Reaping Day

Finnick had learned how to handle most things. The exhaustion after a long day of putting on a show for the cameras, the sickness that settled over him each Games season, the quiet anxiety that stalked him from deep in the shadows back in Four — all of it paled in comparison to the overwhelming panic that gripped him in moments like these. 

He had to have known their routine. Nothing Snow did was a coincidence, so the only explanation was that he had found out about his eight o’clock phone calls with Annie. The President had to have been watching the clock, waiting for the exact moment to dial the number to Finnick’s place, letting his hopes rise and rejoicing when they came crashing down when the victor answered the call only to be met with a gruff request to meet. Finnick knew it wasn’t an invitation, not really.

Standing outside the heavy wooden doors that led to Snow’s office, he tried to slow his racing heart. The attempt proved to be futile. There was no relaxing when the man who had you on strings was ready to take the reigns once more.

The door creaked open at the hand of a decorated peacekeeper who wasted no time ushering him into the room. Finnick took his mark, coming to something of a parade rest in the middle of the office to hide his shaking hands. Eyes downcast, he knows better than to speak first, so no greeting comes from him — not that he felt confident that he’d find the words to do so. Instead, Finnick stands motionless and vulnerable before Snow, waiting for him to deliver his commands.

[psychobulimic]

The harder I try things just get worse!!!

[iw2kms]

CREATING PAIN so my current pain doesn’t feel so bad >>>>>>>>

[serickswrites]

Save Them

Warnings: captivity, implied torture, threat of death

Villain couldn’t believe that Supervillain had ordered them to stand down. That they would not send out a rescue mission for Hero. After everything Hero had done for them in an attempt to stop Superhero from destroying the world. 

Of course the mission had been a failure, but Hero made sure that Villain, Supervillain, Sidekick, and the whole team got out. They just didn’t get out. And now they were at the hands of Superhero, most certainly being tortured to death. 

“We have to go!” Villain shouted at Supervillain. 

“And do what exactly? Die? Hero gave us this one last chance to stop Superhero. Don’t let their sacrifice be in vein!” Supervillain said dismissing Villain. 

Villain left the briefing room, but they didn’t head to their quarters. They weren’t going to do as Supervillain ordered. It wasn’t right. 

“You’re going after Hero, right?” Sidekick said as they barred Villain from entering the weapon’s bay. 

“Someone has to.” Villain tried to brush past their apprentice, but Sidekick blocked them further. 

“You’re going to try to save them alone. You can’t do that.” Sidekick’s words were laced with concern. 

“Somebody has to! By the time Supervillain is ready with a plan to save Hero, Hero will be dead. I can’t let them die. I can’t live with that on my conscience.”

“You’re going to die, too, Villain.”

“Better me to die trying to save them than let them die alone because of me.” Villain shoved past Sidekick and didn’t stop. They were going to save Hero. Defeat Superhero. And they were going to prove everyone wrong.