#mild blood mentioned

[starry-bi-sky]

my body's aching like a knock-down drag-out

and my poor heart is an open wound A Childhood Friends Au snippet that very briefly delves into Danny's life post-accident. CW: Mild Mentions of Blood, Violence, VERY mild gore ig. Danny briefly recalls getting impaled during a fight.

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What they don't tell you about being dead is that it hurts. That it can hurt. That it can hurt more than when you were alive. That when you die, the emotions you die with stick with you like a leech that just won't let go. That emotions are ugly little thorns that stick their barbs into you and grow beneath your skin; or, at least, whatever’s left of it. 

Danny is familiar with anger. It kept him warm in Gotham, when his parents weren't home from work and he and Jason were crowding Crime Alley with their presence. It kept him warm in Amity, when the fresh sting of moving was still needling into his heart and he wanted nothing more than to rip and tear into the closest person next to him.

He's familiar with violence. With fights. With death. He's seen people die in Crime Alley probably every day. From overdose, from gunshots, from stab wounds; anything that can kill, rest assured he's seen it. He's familiar with getting his own knuckles rough and bloody when other kids turn and bare their teeth at him and Jason; they're all just starving dogs stuck in a fighting pit, primed and ready to rip out each other's throats. 

Black eyes, stomped hands, bloody noses. You name it; he’s had it. Gotham is paved with the blood of her children, and Danny likes to imagine that when he was born, the doctors handed his mother a file and told her; “Take it. He’s going to need it for his teeth.” 

Danny’s mom (and dad, for that matter) was too busy trying to keep him and Jazz fed, so Danny stole the file from her drawer with Jazz’s help, and did it himself.  

He’s familiar with anger, he thought he was getting better at it these days. It doesn’t come to him as easily as it did before. Of course, that was before Jason died. 

Danny is less familiar with grief. Caring kills and Gotham kills the caring, so Danny cares very little about other people. Or he tries to. But grief hurts. His grief hurts. It hurts too much. It hurts like a bug trying to crawl out of his chest; like a rat chewing a hole through his heart. Some days he wants to dig his hands into his hair and split himself down the middle. Some days he just wants to scream. 

He’s dead. He’s dead. He’s dead. 

He wants the whole city to hear him wailing, some days. It sticks itself in the back of his throat like bile, and Danny is one wrong retch away from letting it loose. It sticks in his lungs like all the tar he’s smoked in since he was nine. It pushes and aches at his temples, in his head, like his brain is trying to swell out of his skull. His thoughts becoming so loud they threaten to commandeer his tongue.  

He has no mouth, but he must scream. 

Something they don’t tell you about being dead is that it hurts. That it hurts more than when you were alive. Something they don’t tell you about being dead is that it’s violent. That it’s bloody. Or as bloody as it can be when everyone has no blood. 

Another thing they don’t tell you about being dead, is that it’s a lot like Gotham that way.

With no threat of death, Danny’s enemies forget death itself. Blood comes easy, like water, and teeth are encouraged. Bring your own fangs to the fight. Dying is something you can just walk off. 

Danny’s been dead for three months. He can’t say he’s been walking it off easy. He’s perfected the art of turning his nails into claws since his heart was still beating, but he can’t say he’s perfected fighting other ghosts. 

Scrappy is just not enough. 

He feels like he’s back in Gotham again. Back in her death-shroud alleyways, fighting someone bigger than him. But there’s no Jason to watch his back, and Danny has to get himself out of there alone. Or he might just not get up at all. 

Black eyes, busted lips. It’s familiar to him like an old scent, Danny isn’t quite sure that he’s missed it. It’s more familiar than his fights with Dash. 

But there’s no one else who can do it but him. Not Sam, not Tucker. He can’t lose them too. He can’t. He can’t. He can’t. His heart can’t take another break, he already feels like he’s going insane. 

With no threat of death, Danny’s enemies fight like death themself. He learns why when Technus puts a street sign through his stomach one day. It pins him to the asphalt like a moth pinned by its wings. 

Danny claws at the metal like how an animal caught in a trap chews off its leg, and every move is blinding pain. He thinks he was howling, but it’s hard to tell. He couldn’t recognize the sound of his voice. 

He bleeds green. It mixes in black with the pitch blackhole in his heart, which throbs and twists and cries in time with his reckless panic. The finger-choking terror of dying again strangles out the air he doesn’t need. His blood evaporates, only to reabsorb into him. It just bleeds out again, cycling like a snake eating its own tail. 

Danny breaks his nails clawing at the metal, and eventually gets it in his mind to pull it out. So he does, and the end drips ectoplasm green as he gets to his feet. In red-vision, Danny sends the sign back with snarling, vicious fervor. The pain is irrelevant in his rage.

Only after the fight does the hole the pole left start to close. Danny doesn’t shift human until it’s gone. Unlike other injuries, a scar stays behind. Ugly; mottled, it aches for a week with every twist and stretch his body makes. He hates it. 

Being dead is agony. 

Every part of him is in pain. Every step, every word he speaks, everything he does, it is prerequisite with pain. The body is temporary, but the soul is forever, and death has carved into it with its freezing green hands and left him with never-ending heartache. It has torn from him and stolen what of him it could, and in return it’s left him with sorrow. 

His pain is his grief, and he’s sobbed in the safety of his room more times than he can count. It’s still as fresh as the day he heard the news of Jason’s death. He knows, instinctively, that it will stay fresh forever. 

In his room, Danny shoves his hands over his mouth and shrieks in whatever, muffled way he can into his pillow. It’s not enough. It’s never enough. He needs to be louder. He needs to be heard. He refuses to be. 

Being dead hurts. 

[sillygoose1777]

Chapter 1: Auction

Word Count: 3119

Trigger Warnings/tags : Auction sale, mentions of abuse, mild blood, whumpees kept as pets, multiple whumpees, multiple whumpers, carewhumper, og characters, supernatural/nonhuman whumpees, supernatural/nonhuman whumpers, mind reading whumpee, guard dog whumpee, muzzled whumpee, dehumanization (from whumpers), burns from silver, drugged whumpee, mentions of needles

Hudson observed everything with interest as they stepped out of the carriage. He stepped to the side and offered his hand to Zenith. He took it, using it to aid him down the steps. Hudson let go as soon as Zenith touched the ground. Zenith gave a small nod to the carriage driver and they shut the door before getting in the front to find a parking spot. Hudson assumed his position slightly behind Zenith as they walked into the building before them. 

Zenith was graciously invited to one of the biggest pet buying events. Every month he would scout out a few to be bought and retrained so that he could sell them at a much higher price. Hudson didn’t always go with him, but whenever he did he never enjoyed it much. It was hard to block out the thoughts of products. They were always in a lot of pain, at least the ones that were sold on the main floor. If Zenith wanted any of the pretty ones, they were at the wrong auction.

Zenith stopped in front of the door, looking over his shoulder at Hudson. “I want you to pay close attention to the products on display. Find something you like.” Hudson nodded curtly, no verbal response necessary. Zenith looked in front of him again and opened the doors wide. 

Immediately, Hudson was hit with a wall of fear from the products and pure smugness from the sellers. There were stands set up as closely to each other as possible to fit as many as they could. To the left of the main floor was a maze of stands selling creatures and objects alike. On the right was the auction stage with rows of seats set up in front of it. The auction wasn’t going to begin for another half hour, plenty of time to glance over a few stands. 

Zenith led the way pausing a few times to look at creatures or blades that caught his interest. Anytime Zenith inspected a creature in a cage, Hudson would pretend he couldn’t hear their thoughts. Couldn’t hear them hoping to be bought or the opposite, hoping that they wouldn’t. But then Zenith would move on and Hudson could truly push it out of his mind. 

As Zenith was talking to a stand worker selling different types of poisons, Hudson let his gaze wander. His eye caught on a small stand behind them with a small creature working furiously. They were molding molten metal with their bare hands, not a burn showing up on their skin. Hudson was fascinated, watching as they shaped it as they liked, then dropped it in a bucket of water. The hot metal instantly sizzled, cooling down before the creature pulled it out again. They examined it for imperfections before placing it on a table near them with nearly identical blades made. 

As Hudson continued to watch, he observed the creature more closely then he did its work. They were small and frail, their bones barely covered by a layer of skin and muscle. Bruises and unhealed cuts littered their body, making it evident that either they disobeyed often or their owner was unnecessarily cruel. They were muzzled with a silver cage that left red marks on their skin from how tight it was. Its ears were flat against their head, tail tucked between their legs, showing every sign of fear except in their hands. A silver collar was strapped around its throat that chained them to the stand, leaving no room for escape. 

“Do you want to look at that one?” Zenith asked. Hudson looked at Zenith and followed his gaze to the same stand he was previously looking at. Hudson gave a simple nod, so Zenith led the way over. 

Being closer to the creature, he expected to pick up on thoughts of fear, but he didn’t. Instead its mind was quiet with the thought of working. He couldn't even tell if the creature knew that they had walked up. Moving his attention away from the creature, he noticed all the finished blades laid out on the table. They were beautiful. All handcrafted and fused with some kind of pretty rock or gem. 

“Like what you see?” 

Even though Hudson knew the man wasn’t addressing him, he looked up anyways. He was rugged and mean looking, a stark comparison to the skittish creature off to his side. Zenith continued to admire the blades before responding. 

“Are all of these your handiwork?” Zenith asked. 

“Yes sir. Everyone of them,” the man said, clearly taking ownership of the creature's labor. 

Zenith picked one off of the table and examined it closely. It was made of iron and infused with amethyst. It was certainly a blade made for display and not meant to be used in combat. Nonetheless it was still impressive. Zenith handed it to the man's outstretched hands, intending to buy it. The man grabbed the creature, making them drop the metal they were modeling onto the ground, and dragged them in front of himself. The creature cowered in his grip but didn’t struggle. The man straightened their arm and brought the blade down from their elbow to its wrist. The creature hissed in pain and sank to their knees when the man let go of it, holding their arm close. The blade slightly glowed from the blood dripping from it, before it evaporated like it never had been there. 

Hudson was barely able to contain his astonishment while Zenith acted indifferent. Zenith took the blade with grace then walked away with Hudson at his tail. Hudson glanced over his shoulder and saw the man yelling at the creature to get back to work. Hudson turned his attention to what was in front of him. It wouldn’t do him any good to get attached. That was the mantra that he repeated over and over in his head. 

…

Kori was relieved when the blade-maker took off his collar and threw him into his cage underneath the table. He shrank away from the silver bars that lined the cage, careful not to burn himself. As his eyes adjusted to the dimness, he looked for his only possession. A measly blanket, dark blue with a yellow star pattern overlapping it. It was stiff and soiled with blood and god knows what else. But no matter how much it needed a wash, it was his. He had stolen it the first time the blade-maker brought him to the medics, and too tired from wrangling him there, the blade-maker let him keep it. 

The blanket was almost three times his size, though he was a small creature compared to most. Nonetheless, it made it easy to hide underneath. His shield against the world, against his makeshift darkness. Kori curled up underneath his blanket, making sure to not leave any limbs sticking out. 

A table cloth covered the table and most of his cage, blocking most of Kori’s view of the passerbys. He watched their feet walk past, never pausing to come close enough. It was cold, a lot colder than Kori was used to. It didn’t help that the blade-maker often isolated him away from any kind of fire or sunlight, giving him no opportunity to build up his magma. Kori knew better than to steal heat from the hot metal so he could heal his wounds. He had done it once and when the blade-maker found out, he beat Kori till he could hardly make sense of the world. He was immediately sent to the medics afterwards, but it was a lesson well learned. 

Kori wanted to go home, wherever that was. He was never allowed out except to the marketplace or to the medics. Otherwise, he was underground shaping and fusing blades. It was better than anticipating when a buyer would walk up and he would have to spill blood to seal the blade. The cut down his arm stung painfully, making him aware of it again. 

Focusing on one part of his pain only made the rest seem so much worse. He closed his eyes and pressed his head against the cool steel plating of his cage. Despite himself, he felt himself getting tired. His eyes heavy and breathing evenly, he hoped that when he woke up that he would be back in his basement bedroom. 

…

Zenith found a spot in the front row of chairs, giving him an excellent view of the stage. His guard dog sat in the seat next to him, though he figured Hudson wouldn’t be paying attention to the show. Zenith didn’t really care if he did. He eyed the stage, watching as workers of the event raced back and forth to get last minute preparations in place. Shortly after, a finely dressed man came on stage. The man picked up a microphone and began speaking to his audience. 

“Welcome ladies and gentlemen to our monthly creature auction. We have over 30 creatures to display and auction off today, so be ready to bid. After all creatures have been displayed, speak to one of the staff and they will help sort out transactions. If any assistance is needed to transport your new pets, please speak to a courier outside. We will begin the show shortly.”

There was a small round of applause as the man left the stage. Zenith had already scouted out the creatures he wanted, most of them being breeds he had already worked with. A few of his clients were already looking for more pets when his stock was low. As soon as he could get ownership of a few creatures, he was going to send them to all his available personal trainers. By the next auction, he should have all these ones sold and waiting to buy the next batch. 

Though there was one creature that would be displayed that he had an extra keen eye on. He had been observing Hudson’s behavior for the past few months, and deduced that he was experiencing loneliness. Zenith already had another pet for Hudson to mingle with, though Hudson wasn’t one to be very social with others. He had tried spending more time with Hudson beyond his working hours, but it made little to no difference. So he decided he was going to get Hudson a companion, one he could truly bond with. Zenith was already wanting a third pet anyways, so it was practically hitting two birds with one stone. 

Zenith had allowed Hudson to examine the creatures on sale at the market before the auction to get an idea of what he wanted. Thankfully, Hudson found something. A small creature, one that looked like a fox. Its blade making skills and fire wielding abilities were definitely something that intrigued the both of them. Zenith figured he would have to retrain the fox given the conditioning it must have gone through. He thought about retraining the fox with Hudson, it could bring them closer together. It was certainly an idea to think about. 

Zenith brought his attention back to the stage when two workers pulled a cage into view. The announcer from before took his place on the stage. He took hold of the corner of the cloth that covered the cage before swiftly pulling it off. Inside was a standard Tursian, most likely already trained as a guard dog. It was tied down in a stress position to best display it while keeping it still. Zenith vaguely remembered Hudson being displayed the same way when he had bought him. 

The auction passed by as fast as it could for any bored onlookers. After buying a few creatures, Zenith reserved his attention for keeping a look out for the fox. Otherwise, he was thinking of who to contact for its first medical checkup. Zenith always benchmarked where his pets' health was when he first got them, if only so he could get an idea of what he was working with. Finally, as if watching a prized possession being passed around, Zenith eyed the last cage to be rolled on stage. The announcer picked up his mic and began to speak to the audience.

“This is the last creature on display for tonight's auction, I repeat, last creature on display.”

The announcer then quickly pulled off the cloth, revealing the little fox inside. It was on its knees with a collar tightly wrapped around its throat, a chain attached to it, tying it to the floor of the cage. Its hands were cuffed to its ankles, keeping the fox in place. Its tail was tucked underneath it, keeping it close to its body like its ears flat against its head. Zenith watched as its chest heaved with fear, barely able to voice a whimper with the muzzle clamped around its jaw. 

After a couple minutes of letting the audience observe what it was buying, the bidding began. Zenith quickly jumped in, not wanting anyone else to get a lead on him. Little by little he bought out his competitors, until no one else dared name a price higher than his. The auctioneer called it at forty-two thousand, naming Zenith the buyer. He grinned with glee, a rare sight to most.

The workers of the event cleared the stage and Zenith stood to leave. Hudson followed him as he made his way to a nearby staff member. They scanned his buyer’s ID and brought him to the back to let him have a closer look at what he bought. One by one, he was brought to each of their cages. He would sign all the necessary paperwork, write a check, then tell a moving staff where his trucks would be parked. When they reached the cage the fox was in, the staff member handed him a booklet. 

“What is this?” He asked. 

“It’s an infographic of this particular species. It is not one we commonly auction off, so health, safety, and training guidelines are different then what you might be used to,” the staff member informed. 

Zenith briefly flipped through the booklet. “A lynx?” he asked aloud, reading the title of the booklet. 

“Yes sir. They’re from the saturnine desert. They seem to act similar to foxes, if that gives you an idea of what to expect.” Zenith chuckled to himself at the thought that he wasn’t that far off for assuming the lynx was a fox. 

Zenith held out his hand for the clipboard to sign the paperwork needed. The staff member handed it over and he signed the pages quickly. He quickly wrote out a check for forty-two thousand dollars and handed both over to the staff member. 

“Would you like it to be placed with your other purchases?” The staff member asked, taking the items from Zenith. 

“Actually I have a kennel in my carriage I would like it placed in. Easier for transporting into the house,” Zenith mused. 

“Of course,” the staff member mimicked Zenith's tone. “Would sedating the creature be of help to you?” 

“What kinds of sedatives do you have?” 

“We have a wide range, from muscle relaxers to serums that’ll keep your pet out for days.” Zenith imagined he could hear the fox whimpering. 

“I think something that’ll keep it out till tomorrow morning will do.”

“Of course. We’ll have a courier bring your pet to your carriage, and a technician will meet you out there to administer the sedative. Sounds good?”

Zenith nodded and the staff member snapped at a courier nearby to get their attention. The courier came near and listened to the instructions the staff member gave them. They then followed Zenith out to his carriage, bringing the lynx with them. The technician met them there as the courier was unlatching the top off of the cage. The lynx struggled away from the technician as much as it could in the chains. In the end it was futile, as the technician stuck them in the neck with a needle. 

The technician capped the used needle and gave the lynx a small pet. “See? Wasn’t so bad,” they chirped. “Now you’ll get to sleep easy on your ride home.” The technician turned to Zenith, speaking to him in a normal voice. “Have a good evening sir, safe travels.” 

The technician left, and the courier followed shortly after once they had unchained the lynx. The lynx shrank into the corners of the cage, trying to fight against the sedatives. Zenith knelt down by the cage and offered his hand for it to sniff. The lynx tried to focus its eyes on him, daring not to move closer. Zenith gently pet the spot behind its ears, gently guiding the lynx to close its eyes. Once he was sure that the lynx was under, Zenith stood up and bent over the cage to pick it up. He noticed there was a blanket scrunched up underneath it, something hidden from his earlier view. He picked both of them up, realizing how disgusting the blanket was. He put it on his to-do list to wash it. 

Zenith waited patiently as Hudson opened the door of the carriage. He balanced the lynx carefully in his arms as he climbed up the steps, Hudson following in after him. They sat down on opposite sides, with Hudson sitting next to a kennel that Zenith had brought. He had intended to put whatever his new found pet was in it, but while cradling the lynx close, Zenith almost couldn’t bear letting it go. Then he heard his phone ring. Zenith grumbled and despite him trying to shift the lynx over, he couldn’t hold it and its blanket while trying to manage a phone call.

“Could you hold it for me?” Zenith asked Hudson, offering the lynx to him. Hudson quietly took it into his arms, wrapping the blanket around the lynx and holding it close. Zenith pulled out his annoying phone and answered the call.

As the other person talked, he looked outside the window and watched as the world passed by. In the corner of his eye, he watched as Hudson looked at the lynx with a new found sense of love. It was a look Zenith had never seen on him, and one that looked quite well on his dog. Zenith smiled to himself as he turned to look back at the window, glad of his brilliant idea to get a third pet. 

Thank you!!

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[green-crow]

Absolutely self indulgent post but

HTTYD characters and what TMA entities I'd assign them

(just as a disclaimer, I'm assigning them one that fits their personality, and another one that fits their fears, sort of what they'd thrive in and get pulled into to become an avatar VS what would kill/feed off of them)

Hiccup:

Personality-wise, the vast is just too good of a fit for him. Part of why Hiccup loves flying is his friendship with Toothless no doubt, but he also adores the vastness of the sky, the fact that there are literally no limits for him. He could go and on and on, and he probably would have were it not for his responsibilities in Berk and his friends later on. This boy would be seen having fun as an avatar of the vast like Fairchild, he'd have such a blast. Bonus points if he has some sort of special bond with Toothless, like Breekon and Hope. Without the one, the other crumbles. They are truly one and the same. I feel like for him to become an avatar, he'd have left Berk in the first movie when he tried to. Fly away instead of facing Hookfang in the arena, have an encounter with the vast, turn into an avatar and never look back. Now, when it comes to his own fear, I'd probably go with the buried. This boy has been on the verge of drowning a few too many times, one of them being in a relatively small space while closed off to everyone else, so he'd absolutely crumble if he got an experience similar to the cave sisters or getting thrown into the coffin. Not to mention the metaphorical spin of this fear that also applies to Hiccup's struggle with being chief. Gone would be his infinite freedom, the endless possibilities of flying off with no worries at all, just him and his best friend. Instead he'd be crushed with responsibilities, buried in the life of a chief far too deep to ever escape. I do like this fear for Hiccup too because it's the opposite of his assigned one, so it gives it even more power.

Astrid:

Slaughter. 100%. I considered the hunt as well, but I feel like this fits better. She's a warrior, a soldier, she's a troop ready to kill and take on any and every enemy in her way to get what she wants. She doesn't have a clear victim, she doesn't hunt others, rather she just has this deep, unpredictable sense of violence rooted inside her that the slaughter would love to get their hands on. I have no doubt she'd become an avatar extremely soon, being marked since little and starting off with dragons before moving on to actual people. Disclaimer because I don't want people thinking I'm an Astrid hater, I'm not saying she's always angry and will kill someone over the tiniest thing unless you are Snotlout, but rather that her anger issues would be perfect for the slaughter to get a hold of her. She kind of reminds me of Melanie in some ways, and if I trust anyone to do what Melanie did, it would be Astrid. As for what she fears... I don't think we see much of Astrid's fears, except for her fear of losing Hiccup or those she cares for. So, the girl is getting into the desolation. I can't help but remember the episode in which she almost lost her parents, and for some reason, I always pictured the house going down in flames. This would fit perfectly with the desolation, her loved ones taken away by a sudden flame, destroying lives for a senseless reason such as war and vengeance. I've also considered the corruption, given she almost died of a rare illness that one time, but I'm not too sure about it. She wasn't really scared as she suffered, more like confused and weak, but not scared of the end that was drawing in or the fact that she was ill. She also isn't the biggest fan of the spiral given her annoyance towards the twins, but I think that's more just her trying to keep things organised and running and getting frustrated when they aren't, not an actual fear.

Snotlout:

This one, for the personality one at least, is a tough one tbh. I'm not sure what would feel right for him, maybe because I've yet to study him closer, but for starters, I'd go with desolation personality-wise. Yes, maybe I chose it because he literally has a dragon that sets himself on fire at will, yes, maybe because he discovered a gel that makes everything flammable and canonically uses it for his own amusement. But what if there's more to it? Snotlout obviously has this deep-rooted fear of not being enough, so he always one-ups everyone. He tries to be the strongest, the bravest, the one who saves the day and gets the chick. But with flames on his side, he has a new way of feeling superior. With just the smallest of efforts, he can set aflame anything he wishes. He can burn things, animals, people. He can control fire, and thus, he is superior to others for it. I think in a twisted TMA version of him, Snotlout would love to end others before they can surpass him or just use fire to hurt and diminish others to appear better and stronger. As for what he fears, oh boy, this guy is going straight into the lonely. "The fear of isolation, of being completely cut off and alone or disconnected from the rest of society." Now go to the episode in rtte where he has a nightmare about everyone turning their backs on him and casting him away from their lives. Obviously, for him, it's not so much isolation in itself that scares him but the mix of loneliness and others finding him pathetic and weak, a fear courtesy of his daddy. I do feel like Snotlout is a very social person who needs others around to function, as his whole character arc is a journey of him trying to fit in by following the rules his family, mostly Spitelout, set for him, and the chance of never finding his spot for one reason or another terrifies him. The lonely would have a blast torturing him by making him feel invisible and go unnoticed.

Fishlegs:

I feel like Fishlegs would get pulled into the eye. His curiosity and wish to learn more are some of his main personality traits, so no wonder the incarnation of curiosity would pull him in. I feel like his descent into it would be similar to John's: slowly, without him noticing at all, but being tempted to go deeper and deeper, getting small treats and glances at what he could reach to know. Not to mention how paranoid he gets when he has no sleep as shown in that one rtte episode, which is very similar to season two John. Only when it is too late, he'd noticed he had trapped himself into the position of an avatar, hurting others and acting as the monster he'd be then. I'm not sure he'd go all the way, though - John was alone, paranoid, hurt, it was easy to tempt him further. Fishlegs, however, is far too kind and has Meatlug and his friends for support. He wouldn't reach the avatar level, but I think he'd be a follower at the very least. The issue about trying to pinpoint the fear that would end a character as fearful as Fishlegs is I don't know which one would affect him the most. The lonely would certainly fit, he is a very loving person and would be devastated if he didn't have, say, Meatlug or Hiccup around, and we see him plenty of time searching for validation from his peers, in a way no doubt to fit in with others. But I think he'd be fine being alone, and rather he fears the loss of those connections in itself. Thus, he has a high chance of getting attacked by the desolation. He would do anything for his loved ones, sacrificing himself and overcoming his fears just to save them, partly fuelled by love and, in this case, also fuelled by the fear of losing them. Another interesting fear for him would be the extinction. I have no doubt that in modern times Fishlegs would be into climate change discussions, researching ways to stop the effects of pollution and maybe the effects it has on different species, be it plants or animals. I wouldn't be surprised if he was scared about the end of it all, not death itself, but rather the extinction of different species as the world sinks further and further into desperation. I've also considered the end or the hunt, but, I feel like at least in the show he can get through those, therefore while he fears death or being hunted by others, those wouldn't be his main fears.

Tuffnut & Ruffnut:

Spiral. What, you thought I wouldn't assign the fear of madness to the chaotic Loki worshippers? I considered the desolation for a few seconds given their love of blowing stuff up, but come on. They are the spiral avatar. Michael and Helen should be taking notes from them. You see a yellow door, or in their case probably zippleback gas, and you run. I trust these two to actually perform The Great Twisting and do so flawlessly. The distortion would thrive with these two, no doubt, and the world would be severely fucked. As for what they fear, I'm going to treat them separately in a second, but they do have things in common. They don't have any clear strong fears, except the whole "tears" incident with Tuffnut, which might not even be fear and just something else entirely, and the few times they do seem scared, it's stuff they get over with pretty soon. They obviously don't fear the desolation (while they were sad about the change of getting separated, Ruffnut acted accordingly to Tuffnut's "death", I feel like it was just regular grief, not really an over-the-top reaction (for what the twins are used to) to the loss itself (plus I already assigned it to many people and didn't want to repeat myself)), the corruption (these are the guys who eat mouldy bread and their own toenails just fine), the slaughter (violence is more of a game to them rather than a fear, even when directed towards them), or the spiral. (disclaimer of mild gore incoming; skip ahead to the next character's section if you want to skip it)

For Tuffnut, I'm going with the flesh and the hunt. The main reason I'm assigning two right off the vat is that while both are good fits, the flesh is not really a thing until the Industrial Revolution, so I feel like just like Fishlegs with the extinction, it wouldn't be possible for him to be haunted by it without being part of a modern times AU. Regardless, here's my thought process for both: When I started assigning these to characters I really wanted to give the flesh to someone, and I feel like Tuff is the best candidate. After bonding with Chicken, he is way more perceptive of what he and others eat, especially around his feather friend, and I wonder if that could also be thanks to some kind of fear being transferred from Chicken to Tuffnut. Tuff is highly empathetic, always caring for Chicken's opinions, thoughts, and reactions, so it wouldn't be such a stretch to say he'd somehow understand Chicken's fears to a deeper level than most. In modern times, with how the meat industry works and how exposed Chicken would be to the mutilation and breeding of her kin just for meat, I have no doubt both the bird and Tuff would realize they are just animated meat and bones, a bunch of food ready to be torn apart, disfigured, and cooked. I can see him having wacky nightmares about being reincarnated into a bird himself and then torn apart, feeling every single bite and pull of a human or a creature devouring him. For the Viking era, though, the hunt is my go-to. Following the same line of thought, Tuff would be very empathetic to Chicken's fear of being hunted down as prey to the point of sharing it. We also have some instances where Tuff himself is the one hunted down, like the wolf biting him or the episode where he meets Chicken and is surprised by the night terrors. I feel like, eventually, that'd get to him to the point of being genuinely scared of beasts lurking nearby waiting to hunt him or Chicken down. And as a special mention, I'm also including the dark. It's only because I remembered Ruff mentioning Tuff being scared of the dark when they were kids, so, for the one time I get an actual fear spelt out for me, I'm not throwing that away.

Now, as for Ruffnut, I was completely lost so I went to the wiki for help, and wouldn't you know if I found this: "In the DreamWorks Dragons: The Series, despite having tamed Barf (and technically Belch), she seemed to have a slight fear of wild dragons that could potentially kill her and would often panic in situations in which she encounters a wild dragon. It's also shown that she might be afraid of dying, even to the point of naming the Scauldron "Please-Don't-Kill-Me".". Well, that makes things easier. Ruffnut would be haunted by the end. I guess the hunt would also be an option, given she is scared of wild dragons presumably hunting her down, and it would be cute if she shared a fear with her brother, but ultimately, I think she has either overcome the fear or never had it to begin with. In Rtte, she seems fine being chased down by hunters or infiltrating Viggo's base even with the knowledge that she'd be most likely hunted down and trapped when found. So, ultimately, the end is the one and only fear that would haunt her to the end of times. Sorry I don't have a more in-depth analysis for her; I genuinely couldn't think of anything Ruff would be scared of. If anything, the fears should fear her.

Dagur:

Well, if we take a look at his nickname... Yeah, Dagur the Deranged screams either the slaughter, the hunt, or the spiral. And from those three, I'm leaning more towards the first two. This boy was out for blood since the beginning. But unlike Heather, I feel like he does more violent acts in a fit of madness rather than holding premeditated long hunts. He enjoys the thrill of the battle, but not so much the actual process of getting closer to his prey before ending them. The slaughter manifests as people driven "mad with Slaughter," and Dagur sure does fit the description. He did not care what he grabbed, he just wanted a target to torture and kill. Dagur spends his whole life going from victim to victim in a mindless rage rather than an animalistic or premeditated kind of way. It's violence for violence's sake, and he excels at it. If anything, I feel like most of the people he goes after are mere excuses to perform violent acts, even if, later on, they might actually become real enemies and give him reasons to hunt them down. He would be a follower of the slaughter from an early age, considering his track record, and would rise as an avatar quickly. As for his fear, the desolation makes an appearance once again. I feel like while in his villain era, he did not care about anything or anyone. The slaughter was all he could focus on, all he cared about. The thrill of battle, downing his enemies, why think about anything else when you have those? But after that, after almost dying and straying away from that mindless violence, he started to care. Shattermaster, Heather, his father, Mala, Sleuther, his village... He has people to protect and look after. And knowing firsthand just how ruthless people can be, I feel like the fear of losing everything he worked so hard to get would slowly creep onto him. After falling out of the position of avatar of the slaughter other fears would see him as weak and vulnerable, and I have no doubt the desolation would take him as prey. Funnily enough, one could argue he'd also fear the slaughter or a mix between the two. And it would be pretty petty but also in character of a fear to consume what was once theirs.

Heather:

Given her whole arc of finding and killing her brother... Yeah, Heather gets the hunt. She isn't mindlessly violent like Astrid (not saying Astrid is violent 24/7, rather her anger issues make her most likely to react violently), but rather, she chooses her targets and hunts them down. Dagur, Viggo, whoever it is Heather does not stop once she has marked her enemy. I'd love to see a monstrous version of her similar to Daisy's, but instead of turning into a wolf, Heather would become an enraged razorwhip. ...And now I'm thinking about Heather and Astrid as Daisy and Basira, great. That's a thought for another day. Regardless, Heather the unhinged would definitely get pulled into the hunt at an early age, being vindictive and resentful, and growing up into a fine warrior. She has a thirst for blood, no doubt, and the ability to end with someone else with relative ease. The hunt would be very pleased with her. I've also considered the lonely since she seemed very happy minding her own business before joining the riders or Dagur, but the hunt is just such a perfect fit for her. Now, for her fear, this girl has a long track record of being haunted by the desolation. Losing his parents (both biological and adoptive), part of his village... She can't catch a break. She most likely was marked by the fear right after Dagur set her adrift, and with that, she became that much more vulnerable to it. I can see a world where she becomes so haunted by this she eventually turns into an avatar or the desolation rather than just a victim, sort of like Helen with the spiral, but there would at least be a bit of a back-and-forth between the hunt and the desolation to fight for this girl.

Viggo:

This man wouldn't get pulled into the web, the web would be pulled towards this man. The scheming, the strategies, the toying with your victim and letting them think they indeed have free will only to control them from the shadows... Oh yes, if he was a powerful enemy back then as just a human, imagine with the power of being an avatar. I do wonder at what point he'd turn into an avatar, but I feel like pre-rtte events would make sense. His whole empire would be just a way for him to spread his web of lies and deception, to trap more people into his real-life game of maces and talons, and Hiccup would definitely be at the top of his list. Who knows, maybe it could even be a family thing like the Lukas family with the lonely? I don't think Ryker would be an avatar of the web though, so maybe only partially. As for his fears... Well, we don't see much of that, but I'd discard the hunt, the desolation, and the end. He lost everything, he sacrificed himself without a second thought, and he was hunted down multiple times, all without showing much fear (he was scared when he fell into the volcano but that doesn't seem to me like a strong contender for fear of death or fire, rather just a regular reaction to falling into an active volcano, as one does). If anything, maybe he'd be a victim of the spiral? Hear me out now, Viggo is an extremely intelligent character. His mind is his key weapon, the one and only thing he can always trust. Not his men, not his brother, not his strength, not his gold. His mind. The idea of losing it, of his sanity thinning little by little, growing paranoid of everyone around him... If he fears something, I don't doubt it'd be madness. Oh just how delicious it'd be for the spiral to toy with this man! Michael would certainly have a field trip playing with Viggo.

[wayne-al-ghul]

To the person who made the poor decision to attempt to mug me in Bristol. I have your purse. It is slightly bloody. If you wish to collect it return to the scene of the crime.

[lesterlatte]

Let me kiss you in the rain (Hensper)

AO3 link / CW: mild injury and brief mention of blood

It was 3am while Captain Man and Kid Danger were out fighting a criminal on the streets of Swellview. Rain was pouring down, striking against the two heroes as they attempted to back the criminal into a corner. What had started out as a petty theft had now turned into a fully fledged battle, the skills of the criminal having taken the duo by surprise.

By the end of the fight they had to take a moment to recollect themselves, Captain Man being out of breath from the unexpected intensity and Kid Danger analysing the injuries he had sustained. While Ray had trained him exceptionally well to handle a fight he was still just a kid and therefore his safety wasn't always completely guaranteed, regardless of his hypermotility. This criminal had managed to get some solid hits in, the most noticeable being the bruise forming on his cheek and the blood trickling from his nose. 

“You doing okay kid?” Ray asked, looking over to Henry, who was slouching against a wall. “Yeah, I just need a moment. He really caught us off guard” Henry winced as he gently touched his nose, blood appearing on his glove and being washed away by the rain almost immediately.

“Tell me about it, that man could pack a punch” Ray placed his hands on his hips and looked over to where the criminal was being taken to jail by the cops. 

“Are you sure you don't need any help? Looks like he got you pretty good” Ray’s eyebrows furrowed, paying attention to Henry’s visible injuries. Henry pushed himself off the wall and moved over to Ray. Henry shrugged. “I’m sure. It's nothing a couple painkillers and ice packs won’t fix.”

“If you’re sure. Make sure to wrap up warm tonight, don’t want you catching a cold and having to miss work” Henry gave a light laugh. “Wouldn’t dream of it, anyways I've got to head off home. See you tomorrow?” Henry started walking off, tuning his head back over his shoulder to look at Ray.

“Bright and early, Kid” Ray gave a small wave before heading off towards the Man Cave.

Henry moved into an alley to detransform, making sure no one was following him. Luckily flights in the middle of the night didn’t tend to garner public interest outside of the occasional civilian poking their heads out the door or watching from their windows. After cautiously exiting the alley Henry started his walk home. As he began walking his other injuries started to become more apparent, the adrenaline from the fight starting to wear off. He found himself having to limp slightly as he moved, due to what he assumed was most likely a twisted ankle. Dodging attacks isn't as easy as you’d think, especially in the rain.

As he approached the road he lived on he spotted another figure waiting by his porch. Squinting his eyes he managed to make the figure out to be Jasper. Confused, Henry walked up to his drive as Jasper rushed towards him, not caring about the rain that was drenching him.

“Hen are you okay? I saw the fight online and got worried” Jasper had an air of concern that was immediately apparent to Henry. Not wanting to worry his friend he waved his hand up “ I’m fine Jasp don't worry. Just a couple bruises that I’m sure will fade quickly.” This only made Jasper more concerned as he gently reached his hand up to Henry’s face, cupping his cheek and touching under his nose with his thumb. Henry winced as Jasper’s thumb touched his nose. Jasper's eyes glossed with concern as he pulled his thumb away.

“This,” Jasper held up his thumb, which was covered in blood, “isn't fine Henry and you know it.” Henry shrunk back slightly with guilt. He knew his job made his best friend concerned, especially with him not being indestructible like Ray. He always tried to make sure Jasper didn’t have to worry about his safety but he was always quick to notice when Henry was trying to hide injuries.

“It’s just a little bit of blood, it will dry up quickly I’m sure” Henry replied, pushing his hair out of his face, rain pushing his quiff into his eyes. 

“Just a bit of blood? Henry I saw the way you winced it's not just a bit of blood. And don't think I missed the way you were limping down the block. You need to stop hiding how you’re feeling from me Hen” Jasper said, tears welling up in his eyes, visible despite the rain drenching them.

“I don’t want to worry you Jasp, I always end up being okay and I'm sure this time will be no different” Henry replied, trying to sound confident in an attempt to calm his friend down.

“Well what if you aren't Henry! What if you get hurt and that's it. No more Kid Danger, no more Henry Hart!” Jasper almost screamed, not caring who heard them. “You aren’t invincible so stop acting like it!” Jasper was sobbing at this point, the dam of emotions having burst with Henry's repeated denial. 

“I have a job to do Jasper! I swore an oath to help Captain Man defend this city and if I get hurt in the process so be it! I can’t hide away during a fight because I may get injured!” Henry’s volume was now matching Jaspers, tears appearing in his own eyes.

“I don't want to lose you!” Jasper screamed, tears cascading down his cheeks, eyes filled with anger but more prominently, worry. Jasper took a deep breath and looked up at Henry.

“I love you Henry. You mean the absolute world to me and if I don’t want to live in a future without you by my side.” Tears were still falling from Jasper's eyes, the anger having dissipated, being replaced by a look of undeniable love.

Henry stopped and stared at Jasper, shock making itself present on his face as he processed what his best friend just admitted. Jasper… loved him? He knew the two of them were close, they were best friends, but never had Jasper said anything about love. He took a moment to think about his own feelings. He thought back to all the times he and Jasper had hung out as his stomach filled with butterflies. Henry had never noticed this feeling before, not being something he had ever thought about. Now that he was paying attention to it, his own feelings became a lot more clear.

Without warning Henry jumped forward and captured Jasper's lips with his own. This took Jasper by surprise but he quickly melted into the kiss. The two boys pulled each other closer, embracing in a tight hug as the kiss continued. It felt as if the world had stopped around them. Nothing else mattered at that moment. It was as if they had placed the final piece in a puzzle they didn’t know they were building. The kiss continued until Henry slowly pulled back, making eye contact with Jasper.

“You mean the absolute world to me Jasper, I’m so sorry I've caused you to worry so much, I guess I don’t think about my own safety in the heat of the moment.” Henry rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment.

“Oh I can tell Hen. Even if you did I would still be worrying about you” Jasper smiled at Henry, who was quick to reciprocate. They took a moment to just stare at each other, not wanting the moment to end, until thunder could be heard in the distance. This caused both boys to jump back into reality.

“We should probably head inside, I am absolutely soaked” Henry said, gesturing at himself. Jasper laughed and agreed as Henry grabbed his hand and directed them both to the back of the house so they could climb through Henry's window. It was a fair struggle on Henry’s part due to his ankle but Jasper was there to lend a helping hand, assisting the boy in climbing up the branches to the second floor of the Hart House. Jasper followed shortly after and closed the window behind him.

Henry dramatically fell onto his bed with a sigh, letting himself melt into the bedding despite still being soaking wet.

“We should probably dry off and check those injuries of yours.” Jasper said looking pointedly at Henry who was close to falling asleep.

“But I'm tired, Jasp, can’t it wait till tomorrow? Just come lay down with me” Henry whined, reaching his hand out to Japer who was standing to the side of the bed, eyebrows raised.

“I’m not risking anything Hen so stop being a baby and let me have a look” Henry sighed and slowly sat up on the bed.

Jasper checked him over and made sure none of the injuries were serious before grabbing them both towels and spare clothes. Even though they were at Henry's, Jasper already had a drawer of clothes there. He spent the night often enough that it just made sense for him to leave some clothes at Henry’s for when they wanted to do an impromptu sleepover. Once the two were dry and changed they went to lie down on Henry’s bed, Henry pulling Jasper into a hug.

“I love you Jasp” Henry leant his head on Jasper's shoulder and closed his eyes. Jasper smiled and pulled him in closer.

“I love you too Hen”

[rose-riot-johnson]

So Rose! As per usual I'm gonna request Hitoshi.

But I want to hear about a freshly turned vampire Hitoshi having hidden his turning into a being of the darkness. Then finds himself nearly fainting and due to lack of blood. They figure out and offer themselves to him as his source of feeding. So he vows to stay loyal and only feed on them (as they're established partners already) :)

Hi @hitoshisbf 😃This request of yours definitely sounds fun to write about😁👍Also this is my first time I recall writing any character, as a vampire, so I will see what I can do with writing this requested Hitoshi Shinsou fanfic🧛😃👍And as usual (if not always) pertaining the fanfics you requested I will be writing the reader as they/them reader😁👍

*This fanfic contains 1 or more long paragraphs😅

💜🧛(Adult) Shinsou The Newly Vampire🧛💜 (Hitoshi Shinsou x They/Them reader)

Genres: Mild Angst (Warning⚠️: Blood and Mentions Of Blood)

Your pro hero boyfriend, Hitoshi Shinsou, used to fight crime especially during the day, however after he came home from defeating a villain, things have changed. While it's good he has been sleeping better than usual, however he's been trying sleep in complete darkness during the day, then he has been fighting crime during nighttime. It's mainly fire and sunlight that he doesn't want around him for some reason. You just knew he was hiding something (if not multiple things) from you.

Then one night you gave noticed Hitoshi Shinsou has been nearly fainting, and when you got up close to his face you noticed fangs, as you asked him, "Are you a vampire? If yes, then why didn't you tell me?", as you had your suspicions about Shinsou becoming a freshly turned vampire, being the reason why he has become unlike his usual self. Shinsou then answered, "Yes, I'm a vampire now, (They/Them Reader Name)... You must understand... It has only been recent that this happened... I was fighting a vampire villain and he must have bitten me before I defeated him... After I defeated him, that's when sunlight has been bothering me... The reason why I haven't told you is, because I don't know if you would see me as nothing more than a monster and treat me differently... I'm afraid you wouldn't have love me anymore, if you were to find out I became a vampire, no matter the reason...".

While you weren't shocked about him being a vampire, you were really shocked about his reason why he kept the fact he became a new vampire, as long as he did. You then replied, "So this is why you kept this from me, Shinsou... I wish you would have told me! I don't care, if you're a human or a vampire... I would have still love you the same! If you would have told me sooner, you wouldn't have been nearly fainting like this! Here... Take my blood... You're lacking blood, which is why you're fainting! I gave read plenty of books especially manga and comic books about why newly vampires faint and that they need blood to survive... It's essential that you take some of my blood, atleast once in a while, for you to stay alive, Hitoshi!". Shinsou had to think about this for a minute before replying back, "If it's the only way to stay alive, fine then... However my vow to is that I will stay loyal to you and I will only feed off you... I refuse to feed off anyone else... Only you, (They/Them Reader Name)...".

You understood what he meant and agreed on his vow, as you then have him bite you, inorder for him to be able to feed off you. After the moment of his first time feeding off you, not only he feels like he's no longer fainting, he also decided he's going to take care of you, since you did willingly decide to be his source of feeding. Eversince then, the both of you have been taking care of eachother and never looking back.

🧛💜The🩸End💜🧛

Okay my Tumblr Peeps I hope you enjoyed the first fanfic I involved any character being a vampire, even if it's a freshly turned vampire🧛😁👍As for you Aevyn I hope I did well with writing this Vampire Shinsou fanfic😃👍As for genres I think mild angst is all of could think of using as genres considering How I have written the fanfic and stuff that is requested with the fanfic😅🧛😃👍

[bxtchboy2000]

Last Wish of a Dying Demigod

Their fight had raged on, flurries of flame and blade passed back and forth. The tarnished had watched in abject horror as Messmer pulled the scarseal out of his eye socket, crushing it and releasing the abyssal serpent that lurked within him. They had watched as he asked his mother for forgiveness and a part of them nearly felt sympathy, but they had little time to dwell on it before the serpent itself was coming for them. 

Messmer was quick, but the tarnished was quicker. With one final blow to his head, they watched his lengthy form crumple at their feet as he cried out, “Mother.. Marika.. A curse upon thee..!”

Standing over him with their blade still held tightly at their side, they watched him silently, waiting for the body of the demigod to disperse into the air as nothing more than dust. 

But it didn’t. His spear fell from his hand, the snakes rooted in his chest moving in a futile frenzy as if they might find a way to bring him back from the edge. He turned his head from where he lay beneath the tarnished, looking vaguely up in their direction, his voice pained and shaking, “Tarnished… mongrel tarnished…” 

They didn’t respond, their eyes remained focused on his face; the grotesque injury from ripping the scarseal out, the blood seeping from the final blow they dealt to his head. It was a curious sight, a demigod dying at their feet. 

“Tarnished,” he repeated, his large hand reaching blindly for them, “Please… do not leave.”

An odd request, surely. They considered him, the pathetic way in which he regarded them, and the thought of ending his misery then and there crossed their mind. Yet something about him, about how harmless and broken he was, bid them to kneel beside him instead.

They were quiet, studying him for a long moment before finally speaking, “What wouldst thou ask of me, Impaler?”

“T’is.. rotten, to die alone.”

The tarnished shifted uncomfortably. For everything they knew of Messmer and the things he had done, they could not help but feel that same twinge of sympathy rising in their chest. The despondent plea was so ill-fitting for a monster such as he, yet it made him seem so human.

“Thou wouldst prefer to die next to the one that has killed thee?”

He managed a mirthless, hollow laugh that seemed to cause him pain as he grimaced, “I have naught else, dearest Tarnished. My family, my mother, have long since forsaken me. I had hoped… my mother…” His voice trailed off as he found himself incapable of finishing the thought. 

“Thou hoped to see thy mother again,” they muttered, finishing the thought for him. The tarnished did not know why they found themselves entrenched in such guilt, such sympathy for such a terrible demigod, but they did. They reached their hand out, slipping it under his head, careful to avoid the wound they had given him mere minutes before. Their action prompted his serpent companions to dart feverishly around their face and their hand, though it seemed the serpents were acutely aware that the tarnished did not intend to bring further harm upon their master. 

Messmer’s body tensed at the sensation of their hand beneath his head, but he made no complaints.

“Yes… but thou needest not pity me, tarnished.”

“There is little less pitiable than a child abandoned.”

Messmer’s face twisted briefly, his expression lost somewhere between disdain and a deep sorrow. The tarnished saw the passing expression, “My apologies, I did not mean–”

“Nay, thou’rt not wrong,” his trembling hand found its way to their arm, grasping it as if in a desperate plea for some final closeness to something, someone, anyone, “I only regret that I have failed her, that I have failed my goal, that I shall die as the monster she sealed away.”

“But thou served her cause for so long. Surely she would not decry thee for thy final attempt at survival, at upholding her will,” they replied, their other hand carefully brushing the stray red hairs from his face. Their movements were delicate as they found themselves desperate to offer him tenderness in death, for they were quite certain he had seen little of it in life.

“Thou’rt far too generous, tarnished.”

“I speak what is true.”

“My mother… forsook me. And yet…”

Silence filled the air, Messmer seemingly lost in his thoughts. His grip remained tight on their arm, but they did not mind. They looked at his marred face, now that they had brushed the stray hairs away, they could see all of it. Part of them was almost glad they could not look into his eyes because they knew the sadness they would find in them would all but shatter them. 

They placed their hand on his cheek which made him flinch, but he seemed to settle quickly. They could feel his grip on their arm weakening.

“Messmer,” they whispered, not entirely certain he would respond.

Almost a minute passed before he did, his voice nearly inaudible, “Dost… dost thou truly think my mother would be pleased?”

“Yes.”

“Even… in my failure?” He was struggling to speak now. His grip on their arm failed, his hand falling hard to the cold stone of the floor. He was fading quickly.

“Even in thy failure,” they responded softly. They manoeuvred his head into their lap, bringing their now freed hand to his that lay on the floor.

He was quiet once more.

They could see his breathing slowing, the serpents were barely moving.

They tightened their grip on his hand as they spoke, “I believe it is time, my dear.”

“Is it?”

“Yes.”

“Already?”

“Already.”

“I… I am afraid. I do not think I can… I do not want…” his voice trailed off. 

“Thou can, thou must.”

“Art thou… certain?”

“Yes, Messmer.”

He took one last, staggered breath, “I… thank thee… tarnished.”

The tension in his hand disappeared as it fell limp in theirs.

The room was silent now. His serpents were as still as he was as the tarnished watched his body dissipate into nothingness, their fingers still curled around a hand that was no longer there. 

Link to work on AO3 <3

[silverskye13]

sorry, i gave you the anemia leechstyle /joke

in all seriousness good luck getting more iron in you, anemia is an irritating little bitch o7

-leechwife

Leechwife please, my blood, I need that!

And thank you. I have a couple friends who deal with anemia, so I am currently asking for their advice on iron intake, besides, yanno, just going out and buying supplements.

Hopefully soon my blood will be back to doing its job more efficiently.

[zantedeschia-praesul]

Continuing Where @kowaindar0u Left Off: x

The elder had been sensing dread since morning, and it had grown stronger as night approaches. He had been taking refuge in another part of the temple, but he could see, clear as day, the familiar young man visiting again. But this time, he decided against seeing him, still bothered by the dread he had been feeling. Instead, he had instructed his familiar to scout out through the city, hoping to high heaven that the dread would be nothing more than just false alarms.

If only it had been that simple.

Kogarasumaru still decided that he would quietly watch over the young man as he makes his way home, but then his hunter's instincts spiked--

And a cry for help echoing in his head--

Damn it all!

His children had gathered around the barbaric beast, before he himself hurled it away from the younger man. Talons unsheathed, his own fangs bared, and in that pitch darkness, the Elder and his children had torn away flesh and limb on the vampire that had tried to maul the poor boy.

Kogarasumaru breathed unusually heavily, trying to steady himself from his own carnage before turning towards Yuichi. Oh no--

No, no, no, no…!

He can't…he can't survive for long, not with that ghastly bite wound…

But he surely can't leave this man to die…!

Kogarasumaru goes on his knees, carefully lifting Yuichi in his arms, almost in a cradling position. He's trying his hardest not to hurt him more, as his crow children gather around the two in the darkness. The only light that's visible is just a speck from a nearby lamppost…and Kogarasumaru's own red eyes.

"Child…oh, you poor child…I'm so sorry…you can't live with that wound…but I can't let you perish like this either…"

Gods, he had hoped he didn't have to do this to anyone...but if it means he could save Yuichi...and save his Saseki from the impending pain of losing his dear friend...

He cranes his neck to the side, and scratches his shoulder with his talon, enough that he starts to bleed. Carefully lifting Yuichi towards his own wound, Kogarasumaru holds him ever gently, his voice reverberating through the boy's mind:

Take my blood, child.

[xenetala]

The Ring Girl

Read on AO3

Summary: You just got a job as an announcer at the famed Heaven's Arena, but the idea of sitting in a box and giving idiotic commentary didn't sound appealing. So, you decide to spice things up. With your showmanship, ringleader-themed outfit, and charisma you decide to take center stand and act as both announcer and judge. You don't expect to gain much from the first fight you are assigned to, but the promising allure of the red-headed fighter you ran into might just provide you the 'spice' you need.

Advisements: Explicit content, female reader, and that's about it. This is super vanilla, but please be sure to read the tags in case there's something you might not be interested in.

            The elevator made its way slowly up the tower to the two-hundredth floor. You crossed your arms and leaned against the polished metal of the elevator walls and watched as each floor number slowly ticked up. Heaven’s Arena was a place where people addicted to battle met and tested their skills. It was also your newest place of work.

            There were many opportunities for jobs if you knew how to use nen, but the most common path people like you took was to become a Hunter. While the occupation was not without its perks, you weren’t fully sold on the idea of getting the license required for the job.

            Instead, you’d taken a job at the world’s tallest battle tower. The idea of fighting in the ring had occurred to you, but your nen ability wasn’t the best for a straight fight. Your skills were better suited for less head-on or one-to-one combat. Not that your ability was weak, it just shined in other areas more.

            You were slated to be an announcer for the fights. Normally the announcer sat in a box above the ring for the commentary, but you opted to test the waters of the audience and planned to stand in the ring and commentate that way. You even had the uniform tailored to something akin to the style of a circus ringmaster.

            If you were going to be forced to wear the gaudy pink and garish yellow combination, you were going to own the outfit. The top with the fist emblem of the tower cut at your midsection and the back ran like a tailcoat behind the very short pleated skirt. Thigh-high boots that matched the modified uniform along with some artfully added sequence completed the outfit. You had thought about leaving off the silly little cap that you were supposed to wear, but since a circus ringmaster was the inspiration for your outfit then just making the cap into a top hat became your choice.

            The owner of the tower hadn’t seen your modifications to the uniform, but that didn’t matter. You were confident that if you could pump up ticket sales to even the most obscure fights, then the owner wouldn’t care as much about what you dressed like. And, that was exactly your plan. As an announcer, you got a cut of the ticket sales and if you could get people to come to fights for your commentary as much as for the fight itself, then that would increase the sales.

            Finally, the elevator made it to the two-hundredth floor and the double doors opened. You stepped from the doors and made your way down the halls to the arena. The fight slated for today was Chibaba versus Maita. From what you saw of their previous fights and records, neither fighter was much to write home about.

            Neither of them were nen users and had only recently made it to the two hundredth floor. How they’d made it so far was a mystery to you, but it was probably for the best that they fought each other before the nen users on the floor. Initiation was not something pleasant and if they were lucky neither of them would be able to fight for a while after the match and could watch other fights to see exactly the world they were stepping into.

            On the other hand, maybe knocking out the weaker ones sooner was better in the long run. It wasn’t bad to know your place. At least such a lackluster fight would give you the perfect opportunity to showcase what you could bring to the table. You walked down the hall while lost in thought about how you were going to pull things off when you almost ran smack into someone.

            If not for your ability to sense the nen of others and quick reflexes, you would have assuredly bumped right into the person in question. “I apologize for that. I was not paying attention.” You dipped a perfect customer service bow before looking up to meet the golden eyes of the person you’d almost collided with. The person before you was a man dressed in a showman’s outfit, much to your delight. It was hard to place if the outfit was more circus magician-themed or court jester, but who were you to judge? After all you were wearing an outfit that was clearly taken right from the circus fashion book.

            The man’s eyes looked over your outfit appreciatively and you held back a smirk of pride. Part of your planning in the outfit was to use your sex to attract some attention and if this man’s look was anything to go by, you were succeeding beautifully. “The logo on that outfit says you are an employee here, but that’s not a typical uniform.” There was a pleasant vibrato in his voice that sent a slight shiver up your spine.

            This man knew how to be alluring. “It’s my first day here, but I’m going to be announcing fights and thought I’d bring a little more” You paused for dramatic effect. “spice to the arena.” A slight smirk spread across your lips as you did a little pirouette complete with a slight tip of your top hat and a wink to show off your outfit. Nothing like some extra appreciation to boost your confidence and you had some time to spare with this gentleman. “What do you think? Too much?”

            He looked at your outfit critically for a moment and your evaluation of him went up a bit more. Not only could he appreciate the form-fitting nature of your outfit, but he could maintain professionalism. This made you take a bit closer look at him.  Flaming red hair complimented by the red and black top, brilliant golden eyes highlighted by gold accents, bare arms that showed off his perfect biceps; the man was a looker in his own right and you were sorely tempted to ask for his contact information for later.

            “It’s quite eye catching and will certainly ‘spice’ things up as you put it.” There was a mischievous spark in his features as he looked you over a bit more intently. He must have decided to try catching your eye and as a nen user you could sense the beginnings of battle lust emanating from him as well as recognize he was a very well versed nen user. Perhaps more well versed than you. Now seemed like a good time to make your exit and head to the arena.

            With another quick bow, you excused yourself and made your way down to the ring scheduled for the combatants. Normally the announcer would make their way upstairs to a viewing box, but for today you were making your way through the halls between the bleachers to the center ring.

            To make sure you had everything set the way you wanted, you’d even bribed the judge to be absent today. This would mean you could not only comment on the fight, but decide the points. At least as long as the fight wasn’t too closely monitored by the higher ups, you should be able to smoothly achieve your goal.

            You put on your headset as you walked to the end of the entryway and took a deep breath. “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Heavens Arena!” With your arms outstretched, you sauntered your way to the center stage and stepped onto the platform. Though the crowd was small, you heard some cheers and a few cat calls as you stood made your way to the center.

            Any attention right now was good. Even minor fights were broadcast throughout the tower and people could purchase tickets during the fight provided seats were open. If a few more spectators were to show up after seeing a girl in alluring attire take to the floor, then that worked out nicely. You wanted people to be interested in seeing you more than they were in the fight. This would assure you had a continued job at the arena.

            With a practiced flourished bow, you introduced yourself as the announcer and judge. There were a few mixed calls of appreciation and disgruntlement, but since this was a minor fight no one really voiced any loud complaints. Many of those who watch fights like this can’t get tickets to the showcase matches and just want to be able to brag to their friends that they watched a battle here.

            “Fighting for your viewing pleasure today is the brick wall, Maita!” You introduced the first contestant with the moniker you mad up for him and incited a few cheers. To further elicit a reaction, you released your nen ability to showcase an illusion of Miata shattering a solid wall simply by walking through it. There were some more hoots from the crowd and you felt the pleasure of your growing success.

“Versus the whippy Chibaba!” The second contestant incited a few more cheers than the first and like you did for the first contestant, you cast an illusion across the field of vine like whips cracking around Chibaba. The overall effect certainly got the crowd to pay attention a bit more than they normally would to some no name combatants. “Today is a rematch from their fifty fifth floor battle. Last time Maita was victorious, but will he be able to hold onto that win today?”

            A few calls for one or the other of the contestants to win carried across the field as each fighter took their place. Both men seemed to ignore your antics and just solemnly focused on their opponents. Must be some bad blood there. While they made their way up the platform, you to the brief pause to check out the crowd. Much to your delight there were several more seats filled. Either the theatrics you played at with your ability or the allure of your womanly charms drew them in. Whichever it was didn’t matter to you. A bigger audience meant a bigger pay day.

            Just as your eyes were finishing scanning the audience, the deep red hair of the man you encountered in the hallway caught your eye. You smiled broadly as your eyes met and you gave him a flirtatious wink. If nothing else, you hoped he’d at least spread word that a sultry ring girl’s theatrics made the lesser fights more enjoyable and thus bring in more spectators.

            Once the fighters were in their spots, you raised your hand in the air and looked at each one in turn. “Are you ready?” A slight dramatic pause for affect before bringing your hand down, and you shouted the go ahead. “Fight!” With that last word, you jumped back to the edge of the ring with a speed just enough above the normal person to prove your point that you weren’t an ordinary announcer, but also not too fast for the average person to miss your movements.

            The two men in the center of the stage looked at each other for a minute before the fight began. As you’d already knew, their moves were basic and not much to show for a fight as would be expected at this level. After some research into the arena and its fighters, you were surprised the ‘rookie crusher trio’ hadn’t gotten to these two yet. It didn’t matter though. This pair would eventually learn the hard way what nen was as long as they fought on the two hundredth floor.

            Fighters in position, you raised your hand and started the signal for the fight to begin. “Ready!” You brought your arm down. “Fight!” The second the last syllable left your lips, you jumped back a few paces. You calculated your backsteps to show a hint of your own prowess, but not so much that it’d draw too much attention from the fight. Gotta have a little mystery and charm to draw people back.

            Maita, an obvious wrestling type, rushed in for a quick takedown move, but Chibaba was ready for him. A quick glint of something from Chibaba’s sleeve caught your eye and you smirked. There would be blood in this fight. “Maita rushing in for a no holds bared take down move!” You shouted just before the wrestler would connect with the smaller man.

            Chibaba ducked with the agility of his smaller frame and flicked his wrist just as he avoided the grappling move. “Clean hit! One point!” You shouted as the hidden knife nicked the larger man’s side. The wound wasn’t deep enough to cause real damage or be much of a threat, but it was more exciting than basic maneuvers. “Our quick whip is out for blood this time!” The video screens above you showed the clip of the hit as the two contestants circled each other.

            Several cheers erupted from the slightly larger crowd and you smiled to yourself. A quick scan of the audience showed that sure enough a few more nen users had entered the stands. The must have seen your nen powered theatrics. It was time to spice things up a bit more.

            This time Chibaba took the initiative and rushed in for a quick knife jab, but Maita sidestepped and brought his arm down to grapple the smaller mans. You flashed an illusion of a vine like whip cracking against a brick wall to no avail. “Chibaba making a valiant effort to score on his opponent, but can a whip crack the surface of a brick wall?” Your voice carried across the arena while Maita tried to get Chibaba off balance enough to further grapple him.

            Several people in the crowd voiced their comments and cheered on the fighter they most likely placed their bets for. One person in the crowd clearly wasn’t interested in the duo battling it out on the floor, but rather interested in you. The eyes of the man from the hallway caught yours every time you scanned the crowd to gauge their reaction and you had the suspicion that his eyes had never been on the fight to begin with.

            After several seconds of the fighters stepping around each other, Maita succeeded in throwing Chibaba off balance. The larger man caught the smaller man in a grapple that lifted him up. “A powerbomb from Maita! Clean hit and down! Two points!” You’d call out as the body of Chibaba hit the floor. The crowd cheered and your illusion mimed that of a wall falling on the whip to smash it. The smaller man laid in place for a moment and you started the countdown.

            You got to the count of three before Chibaba sat up and signaled he could still fight. Perhaps you should have called a critical hit instead of just a clean hit, but where would the fun be in that? Besides there were no objections from the audience so you disregarded the should haves.

            The fight continued with the similar basic moves and the only real excitement being your showmanship. Before the end of the fight, the stadium did fill in a bit more and people responded to your callouts with moderate fervor. Not the turnout you would have liked, but considering what you were working with the results were acceptable. Either audience members had contacted friends to tell them there was an interesting show going on, or they saw the monitors around the building and thought it might be worth it to catch the show. No matter the reason, it was more people to potentially spread the word about you.

            Several more minutes ticked on before the fight ended. The final tally was ten to six Maita was the winner. Despite Chibaba’s advantage in maneuverability and having a weapon, Maita had more experience and was able to win the fight with a critical and down. “And we have our winner! Maita the brick wall!” You use your nen to flash the now symbolic wall smacking down the whip several times over in commemoration of the victor and managed to get some decent cheers from the crowd for him.

            Neither of the fighters were too seriously injured, but there were broken bones and some pretty deep knife wounds. The men could still stand well enough and limped their way off the stage. You weren’t sure if you hoped they’d have the sense to watch other fights and give up on their battle endeavors, or if you wanted them to experience their weaknesses firsthand. “Thank you everyone for joining us today. Until next time!” You gave a deep, flourished bow and used your ability to create a pouf of brightly colored smoke.

            Leaving the audience distracted by the smokescreen, you made a full quick exit from the stage. Nothing like a little ‘magic’ at the end to round things out. All in all, you felt today was a success. The fight was about as anticlimactic as you expected, but you were able to add a bit of flare and drama to things. Things turned out about as well as you’d hoped and the ticket sales went up considerably.

            Lost in your thoughts, you almost didn’t feel the presence walking up behind you. A smile crossed your lips as you called out, “So we meet again.” You turned your head to acknowledge the red-haired man from before.

            “A lucky coincidence.” His voice was sultry and his eyes had a predatory glow to them. You couldn’t decide if he was just flowing with battle lust or lust in general.

            “So it would seem.” You turned to give him a cute smile. “What did you think of my little show?”

            “It was entertaining. You have decent showmanship and your use of nen was well timed.” The man started an honest critique and you listened intently. “However the choice of a wall and a whip were poor match-up ideas.”

            You let out a sigh. “I felt that too. Thank you for your honest feedback. I struggled with how to portray the two. They aren’t ready for the level of combat here and there’s nothing of note in their repertoire.” Your voice was almost defeated. The two fighters were the worst pair to have as a first match and you figured you were assigned to it because you were new.

            “The fighters have little potential and I’d be hard-pressed to make something entertaining out of that.” The man admitted with a teasing smile.

            The redhead did seem like someone very familiar with showmanship based on his comments and mode of dress. You hesitated on asking if he’d be willing to share some of his experiences in the spotlight. Perhaps it was best you just reviewed the video recording for self-analysis before calling it a day instead of bothering this attractive gentleman before you.

            “I thank you again for your insight.” You gave a flourishing bow before turning to head back to the room you occupied.

            “Would you like to further discuss your performance over dinner tonight?” The invite was full of insinuation and you were not at all opposed. It’d been a while since you’d had an alluring gentleman ask for your company. Too many of the men you’d met in your life took one issue or other with a woman being able to fight.

            With an inviting smile, you nodded and agreed to meet him at his room in a few hours. Before walking away you realized neither of you had introduced yourselves and with a bit of flowery flare with your nen, you rectified that.

            “Hisoka.” The man gave his name and bowed as he disappeared in a flurry of cards. He was good. Very good. You were looking forward to this evening and though meeting a man like him at his door wasn’t normally a smart idea, you did have ways to defend yourself and you wouldn’t be opposed to more intimate interactions if he wanted.

            You made your way to the floor dedicated to employee housing. The battle tower hosted many floors and fighters alike. Each fighter after proving themselves earned private rooms that were more luxurious than many of the most expensive high-rise apartments. Employees weren’t afforded the nicest rooms the tower offered, but having a full view of the city below wasn’t that big of a deal.

            The quarters assigned to you were more than adequate. You had a decent window and a bedroom large enough to house a king-sized bed. There was a little nook for reading or whatever hobby you chose, a small but adequate kitchen, and good good-sized bathroom. It was clean, it was comfortable, and best of all, free.

            Once inside the privacy of your quarters, you removed your show clothes and tossed them on the bed. They’d need to be washed, but you could do that later. You had created a few different outfits to wear that were the same style, just different combinations of the color scheme so that you didn’t have to wash the same outfit every day.

            If you were successful in getting more battle announcement jobs, perhaps you could change things up more. For now, you needed to be recognizable and have a signature that people would recognize even if you changed other aspects of your routines.

            Relieved of your clothing, you headed to the bathroom for a good shower and to plan your outfit for the evening. As the water ran over your body, you thought about how you wanted to present yourself to Hisoka tonight. You could continue to use your cute, flirty stage persona, or you could reveal your off-the-stage self.

            It was hard to say if he would let down his stage self, and you rather expected that the showman was as much himself as it was his fighter persona. Parts of your real self did reflect in your stage self, but there was still a distinction.

            After some debate and sorting out several outfits in your wardrobe, you decided to go with something that had a bit of flare and was more relaxed. You could feel out Hisoka and see if this was just a dinner date, or if his allusions to more were not just him being a stage flirt.

            You pulled on a pair of fashionably tattered jeans to match a crop top ending in fringe. A little spin in front of the mirror to see how the outfit looked and you were satisfied. Enough ‘show’ to give the illusion that your stage persona still worked in your social life, but also that illusion of seeing you off the stage.

            A pair of loose boots with a slight heel completed the ensemble as you headed out your door. You opted to leave your hair down for this as you didn’t want to go to the effort of putting it up and your makeup took more time than you expected. A muted version of what you had on for the show.

            You made your way down the hall and to the elevator. With a bit of excitement, you pressed the button to Hisoka’s floor and leaned against the back of the elevator as it made its way up. Once the doors opened, you casually stepped out and made your way down the hall.

            Hisoka’s room was at the end and was one of the nicer ones reserved for the combatants of higher fame. He probably had a full view of the city and nicer amenities in his lodgings. As his door came into view, you wondered briefly if employees were allowed to share housing quarters with the fighters.

            You knocked lightly on the door and announced yourself. He probably already knew you were there even before you got off the elevator. You hadn’t been hiding your presence and the man was too versed in nen not to be alert at all times.

            With a soft click, the door opened, and a small part of you was disappointed to see that he still wore his jester-style outfit and makeup. But, you weren’t entirely surprised. It would take a lot for someone like him to let down his guard and show his true self. He might even be excentric enough that this was his true self. Whatever the reason, he was attractive as is and you suspected he was the type to be attractive in just about anything.

            He eyed your ensemble appreciably before opening the door to allow you entry. You gave him a mildly flirtatious smile as you walked past. Along the far wall of his quarters were floor-to-ceiling windows that spanned the full wall. It was early evening, but the view of the approaching sunset was beautiful.

            “I thought it’d make a pleasant view while we ate.” His footsteps made no noise on the floor as he moved to your side and looked out over the scenery.

            “It’s a spectacular view.” You gave your honest opinion. The room was high enough up that you could see over the top of every other building in the city. It was a really glamorous suite.

            The scent of steak wafted your way before you finally tore your eyes from the view. You turned to see Hisoka setting a table just big enough for two. There were two plates of finely grilled steaks, sauteed vegetables, and red wine. A smile crossed your lips. The meal somehow fit him and though it was obvious he didn’t cook it, it was equally obvious that this wasn’t some cheap order in meal.

            You sat down at the table with Hisoka and engaged in a pleasant conversation about your earlier performance. The man had some good insight and you had fun discussing the nuances of showmanship.

            The sunset proved to be the most gorgeous you’d ever seen and you thanked your host profusely for the privilege of seeing it. He smirked slightly and stated that seeing it with a beautiful woman made it equally beautiful.

            Once you were finished with the meal, you began to clear the table more out of habit than anything else. Living alone for your adulthood made you self-sufficient and habitually did things on your own. Hisoka observed this. “You are a specialist.”

            His remark caught you off guard. Most people thought you were a manipulator or a conjuror. Very few if any ever made the connection that your ability wasn’t just about creating an illusion from your nen or conjuring light shows. You took a moment while putting the dishes in the dishwasher before replying. “What makes you think that?”

            “You are independent and charismatic.” His reply was simple and left you with more questions than answers.

            You finished putting the dishes in the washer and started it before turning to look at him. His eyes were observing you and somehow you felt he wasn’t just seeing you, but looking right through you. “Are you saying you think my personality means I’m a nen specialist?” You looked at him skeptically.

            “Yes. I find people’s personalities match their nen type.” He gave you a flirtatious smile. You really couldn’t argue with him since he had accurately guessed what your nen type was, but you didn’t want to confirm it for him. Admitting made you feel somehow vulnerable. “So, am I right?”

            He was teasing you and you didn’t like that. You had no idea what his nen type was or even his abilities. You knew he was a very skilled user from the demeanor and temperance of his nen. Suddenly a thought crossed your mind. You had a rather attractive male before you and the perfect opportunity to save yourself some face.

            A sultry smile crossed your face. “I’ll tell you if you can kiss better than anyone I’ve kissed before.” This would be an easy win. All you had to do was tell him he wasn’t the best kisser you’ve met even if it wasn’t true.

            Hisoka’s eyes practically glowed at your suggestion and you could see the lust in them. You felt your battle was already won and stood still as he got up from the chair and confidently walked toward you. His fingers gently lifted your chin as his lips met yours.

            You could taste the wine still on those lips and when his tongue ran over yours, you parted them for him. He put his arm around you and pulled you close to his firm body. You knew he was muscular, but feeling the battle-hardened muscles against your body lit a fire in your belly.

            His tongue explored your mouth, ran over your teeth, and tangled with your tongue. This kiss was hot and irresistible. Hisoka rubbed his thumb along the small of your back and pressed your hips against his. You could feel his erection against your body and you moaned softly into the kiss before he broke it.

            “Well?” His voice dripped with a lust matched by the intense gaze he gave you.

            “I think I need another.” You weren’t thinking of winning this little game of yours anymore. The man knew how to kiss and now you wanted to know just how much he knew about pleasing a woman. Before he could protest, you stood on your toes and pressed your lips to his.

            Your hands slid up his chest and you looped your arms around his neck. Hisoka parted his lips for you and allowed you a deep, passionate kiss once more. This time, he moved his hand from the small of your back down to your tight bottom. He caressed it through your jeans before giving a good squeeze and earning another moan from you.

            Hisoka broke the kiss once more and guided you to the bed. His intent matched your desire and you tugged at his top to remove it. The redhead allowed you to pull off his shirt and the sight before you brought a fire in your core. His body was perfectly sculpted and his muscles rippled with each of his movements.

            In turn, he pulled your crop top over your head before leaning in to kiss you again. The kiss was again deep and full of desire. Your breaths mingled together as his hand slid down your side, behind your back, and unhooked your bra. With practiced ease, he removed your undergarment and cupped your supple breast.

            His thumb twirled teasingly over the hardened nipple and you let out a soft moan. You pressed your hips to him as your need began to grow. Hisoka broke the kiss to draw his lips down your jaw and to your neck. He planted a few light kisses there before softly biting your tender flesh.

            He worked his way along your neck and down to your shoulder. You moaned softly and reached your hand to the hard bulge of his member. Your hands kneaded and rubbed him through the fabric and he growled in pleasure.

            The two of you continued exploring each other's bodies until neither of you could take much more. Your hands tugged at his pants and he kicked off his shoes before helping you remove them. The fighter pulled off your boots before undoing your jeans and sliding them off. You were unsurprised to find the man did not wear any undergarments and shimmied out of your own.

            Both of you admired each other’s naked form before you wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him into one more kiss. Your legs spread and he situated himself between them. His long fingers caressed your inner thigh before sliding along your slick folds.

            A moan of pleasure escaped his lips when he found how wet you were for him. He easily slid a finger into your womanhood and thrust it a few times before inserting a second. You easily took in his fingers and your hips began to rock with his movements.

            “Hisoka.” You breathlessly called his name.

            “Am I the best kisser you’ve met?” His voice was full of lust and mischief as he teased you with his fingers.

            You were too far gone to care what he did or did not know about you and you nodded. “Yes.”

            “So, are you a specialist?” That same teasing voice and the withdrawal of his fingers made you whine with need.

            “Yes.” You desperately wanted him and it he didn’t matter if he was right or not. You just wanted him. Wanted him inside you. “Hisoka, please.” You begged him and were almost afraid he’d leave you in this state, but you moaned in anticipation as you watched him line up his member before easily sliding his warm, hard cock into you.

            Your back arched at the feeling of his member filling you completely. He easily slid into you and paused for just a moment so you could savor the fulling of every inch of him filling your womanhood. Your body clenched around him and tried to further its pleasure.

            Hisoka closed his eyes at the feeling and moaned as he pulled back and began to pump himself in you. His movements were slow at first. Savoring the feeling of you clenched around him, but as his need grew so did the intensity of his thrusts.

            You moaned sweetly and your hips rose to meet his. The feeling of him deep inside you was delicious and you hooked your leg around him. The fighter watched your body writhe in pleasure beneath him before gently pulling you up to sit in his lap.

            The movement pushed him even deeper into you. You threw your arms around his neck and moved yourself on top of him. His hands wrapped around your back and pulled you tightly to his body. Your lips found their way to his and your tongues entwined in a dance of passion as you bounced along his cock.

            Your body quivered and rocked as your climax drew near. Hisoka pushed you back onto the bed and his movements became more frenzied. His lips and teeth were down your neck, across your collarbone, and sucking on your breasts.

            “Hisoka!” You cried out his name and arched your back as you came undone. The fighter let out a low growl as his seed spilled in you. Several breathless moments later, your eyes met Hisoka’s golden ones.

            “I look forward to reviewing your next performance.” His sultry tenor sparked your heat again and you smiled seductively at the man above you. You were looking forward to next time as well.

[cosmogyros]

A blood vessel broke in my eye, so the white part of my eye has a giant blood stain covering a good amount of it, and my brain has been ceaselessly cycling between these two thoughts:

Wouldn't it be awesome if the blood slowly oozed in front of my iris and pupil, so I could, like, see the wave of blood slowly blocking out the world and making me partially blind?! (No, brain. Wtf. No, that would not be "awesome".)

This:

[asmoshoebox]

you weren't wondering what asmoraius tastes like, but that's okay, because i was. here u go

he tastes like green wheat in the sun, like the hot damp earth painting their knotted fingers, like fresh sweat on old linen

he tastes like fall, sticky figs and honey in the corners of his lips, the wine on his breath a libation over their offered flesh

he tastes like salt and oil, red fruit juices on his cheek, gristle and spice between his teeth

he tastes like human-bacon grease and cherry chapstick, until his lip splits under their teeth, spilling fire and copper and brimstone over their tongue

he tastes like shampoo and vaseline, hairspray and lipstick, like a dirty knife with the silver and steel hooked through his mouth

he tastes like sleep, like rain, like beer, like blood, like the dmv carpet, like misroch's office chair, like cigarettes in bed, like a G flat major chord

like nothing else

[pickleking8]

6 - Adoption Isn't All It's Cracked Up To Be - Chapter Six

Hello! Sorry it's been so long, I just didn't feel like writing for a bit, but I got to read a lot of the comments people left me and that gave me a lot of motivation! So thank you. Anyway, this chapter is a lot shorter than the others, but I hope you enjoy it regardless.

Words: 548

Ao3 Link

Previous - Next - Masterpost

TW: discussion/mention of kidnapping, blood (all pretty mild)

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Jazz’s feet thumped against the uneven floorboards as she paced frantically across the hotel room. Much of the space was taken up by the worn bed, and her vision filled abruptly with a decrepit wall every couple of laden steps. She was growing quite familiar with these walls, with their peeling paint and scuffed baseboards and various patterns of decay. She kept pacing.

Eventually, the feeling of something trickling down her thumb brought her to attention, and she pulled her fingers away from her teeth to find her thumb bleeding, the nail rough and jagged from hours of worrying, the rest of her fingers not far behind. 

If she was being honest, she felt rather jagged herself. Normally, her thoughts behaved like a brick wall, with her as the bricklayer. Neat, regulated rows of clay stacking upon one another and forming a solid, reliable foundation. Now, though, her thoughts splintered, like a broken mirror. A reflection distorted in the glass, showing a cracked and broken body, adorned with sharp, bloody edges. Creating gaps and shards that scattered everywhere, leaving Jazz to desperately try to put it all back together. It might have been in vain, though, for the biggest hole was missing, and nowhere to be found. 

Now, if there were really a mirror, one would assume that the hole would reside over Jazz’s heart, showcasing a spiderweb of harsh edges tinted green spiking out from it and piercing each and every facet of her thoughts. One might also assume that Jazz, though perhaps only in the part of her mind where her secrets were kept, would name that hole Danny. 

Did you know that mirrors are green? Jazz did. Jazz hated green. It was everywhere, she noticed it all the time now. She’d always marveled at the slight green glow that Danny seemed to create. She never imagined how bright and how glaring it would be when compared with crimson. Jazz didn’t like green, anymore.

Ok. Deep breaths.

Danny had been gone for six hours, thirty seven minutes, and nearly forty five seconds. Possibly even longer, she had no idea when he had left or been taken.

Fuck, how could she have let this happen? Again? Danny, her sweet, wonderful baby brother, who babbled about stars and carried so much in life, was gone. Taken, probably, once more. Something must be wrong, or he would have come back by now. He would have at least let her know. He would have. (Or maybe he’s already gone, her mind whispered).

Was it her parents? (No, not your parents, not anymore; a quiet reminder) Or the GIW? Or both? 

The whispers didn’t stop. They didn’t stop. In fact, they only grew in volume, becoming a torrent of voices that creaked and splintered and broke, jumping from accusation to accusation, pounding at her head and creating a cacophony that she couldn’t escape.

It’s all your fault…

You failed again..

He’s gone again.

He’s been taken again!

You failed again!

Repeating over and over and over, the words built into a hurricane, the fractured pieces of her mind coming together to form a howling storm made of dark clouds and freezing rain, swirling into a single purpose:

To get her brother back. 

And next, to make those who took Danny pay. 

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Next - Masterpost

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So, that's it! Sorry again that it was so short, but I hope you liked it! If you have any constructive criticism to offer, I would be happy to hear it. I hope to be able to get some more chapters out, but then again school's starting, so we'll see. Thank you for reading!

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Taglist: @tkiesai

[this-world-of-beautiful-monsters]

The fact that queerphobia is treated as “free speech” and being queer where other people can see is treated as a sex crime to be prosecuted by the fucking national government makes me want to bury myself in a hole and scream until I spit blood. 

[jackwhiteprophetic]

Uh ohhh bobby nooo your heart!!!! 💗

[fluctuating-fanby]

In a Kevcil mood so naturally I have to meme abt it