#new wounds are painted to my brain and body- seemingly- each time they get mad oof | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

my-creative-hell · 5 years

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Before (Avengers au)

This whole situation was fucked. It was supposed to be a simple mission, get in, beat the bad guys up, and get out quick before the press had a chance to catch them and pry them for interviews. That’s how it was supposed to go so how did they get here?

Turns out, these particular bad guys knew exactly who they were, and how they worked. They had planned their attacks to use all of their weaknesses, and somehow it had worked. Hannah’s blindness had been used against her, distorted noises playing to mess with her sense of space. Iden’s guard had been broken using Jake, who had been caught out while running and most definitely at least had a broken arm. Leena had been doing well until they figured out her sequence of attacks, which had thrown her for a loop.

And Grave, well, Grave had been stabbed, simply put. Blood was leaking onto the floor, covering Hannah’s knees as she kneels next to the younger teen, and muttering reassurances, though she wasn’t even sure if she believed them herself.

Grave didn’t, she was shaking and crying, the pain boring into her memory as she lay on the floor, Hannah’s hands over the wound, pressing it shut and trying to stop the blood that was escaping from her torn flesh. Hannah’s expression was one of deep pain for the younger teammate she had come to view as family, and she would wince every time Grave cried.

“I know it hurts hun, just hole on, okay? Iden will be here soon.” It was more of a wish than a promise. Iden was the least injured of all of them, his ridiculous strength the only advantage they currently had. Hannah could see him fighting, throwing men left and right, his expression more anger stricken than she had ever seen.

“Are you sure?” Grave asks in a small shaky voice. She’s biting her hand in an effort not to cry out and make too much noise, though Hannah could still hear small whimpers coming from her, each one breaking her heart a little more.

“I hope so… if not, you might have to do something, hun.” Hannah says gently, knowing she couldn’t promise what she didn’t know. She didn’t know if Iden would win and if he would be able to fix this, if he would have enough energy to even try. The thought of losing Grave was the worst part, and Hannah didn’t want to risk it. No matter the cost.

“Okay, cool. Great. This is awesome.” Grave was panicking, trying to even her breathing and slow it down and breathe normally. Trying not to panic. But Hannah could feel it bubbling up inside Grave.

“Hey, its okay. You’ll be okay. Just breathe.” Hannah reassures, keeping her voice quiet and comforting, trying her best to remain calm sounding despite the worry and fear that was flooding inside of her, threatening to spill over at any second.

“O-okay.” Grave nods gently and Hannah can feel her starting to take normal breathes, breathing in deep and letting it go, making her feel a slight bit better. But she knew the situation was still bad. Grave needed help, and she may not get it, so something else had to be done.

“Okay, we’re okay. Look, hun, you might have to use your abilities here.” Hannah admits, wincing. She didn’t even know if Grave was in any condition to use them, but it was a last resort. She could hear Iden in the background, and it didn’t sound good.

Grave nods and Hannah can feel her clench her fists and begin going back in time, smiling gently, hoping it would turn out okay as she fades away as Grave goes back. But it’s all fuzzy. Grave tries to stop, it’s going back farther than she wants it to, but she can’t stop it.

When she comes back, the same building is around her. But its empty, abandoned, the walls covered in peeling paint and the floors dirty and unkempt underneath Grave as she sits up, the wound now gone, but with no idea of where exactly she was.

Grave knew the abandoned building was close to where the team lived, but with no knowledge of when she was in time, she couldn’t exactly just go up and knock on the door. What if it was too early, or she was already there?

Grave stands up swiftly, heading out of the building as fast as possible, not wanting to be stuck in there a second longer than she had to be. Opening the unchained doors, she steps into the world. It was buzzing, people walking past her at all sorts of different speeds, heading to work or milling through the shops on the street. Everybody was so focused on their own shit; no body noticed the slightly distressed teen exiting the abandoned building.

It almost made Grave laugh as she begins to hear a clicking noise. At first, it confuses Grave; her believing it might have been her bones that were clicking. Though, when she turns her head she manages to see Hannah standing outside a coffee shop. She appeared to be waiting for something and was tapping her white cane in a bored manner, face displaying the same emotion behind her sunglasses.

Grave gets a flash of happiness run through her, and almost runs up to the shorter woman, but she quickly remembers that this was Hannah from the past. This Hannah was wearing sunglasses to hide her eyes, and her Hannah never did that anymore, saying it was a waste of time. The realisation makes her sad.

This Hannah seems to feel something is amiss, a slight flash of something passing inside her head, a voice she didn’t know, but seemed to feel comfortable with. It makes her feel funny. Out of curiosity, she turns her head towards the strange feeling, sensing that someone was there and probably staring at her.

“Ohshit- um… hi.” Grave says nervously as she realises Hannah has noticed her presence, watching as Hannah raises a single eyebrow in questioning.

“You’re gonna have to get closer if you want a conversation.” Her voice is dull when she speaks, the normal life Grave’s Hannah would have seemingly nonexistent as she speaks. This Hannah seems bored with the world, and unwilling to be a part of it, her voice reflecting those emotions.

Grave gets closer, still nervous as she approaches this new old version of Hannah.

“H-hi Han-I mean… hi.” Grave corrects herself, not wanting to say her name. This Hannah didn’t know her, and it would make it so weird, and lead to a lot of explanations Grave didn’t even know if she was allowed to give.

“You sound like a kid, why did you wanna talk to me?” Hannah questions as she tilts her head. Whoever was in front of her was young, definitely not an adult, and by the sound of them they were around ten, way too young to be talking to a twenty year old.

“Because… I-I…” Grave starts to play with her shirt as she talks, twiddling it between her fingers to try and curb her anxiety. “I didn’t… mean to come back this far, but I cant go back until later so…” Grave sighs, sounding upset. “Why am I telling you this-” She cuts herself off as Hannah listens to her. As much as Hannah didn’t know what was going on, and as much as she didn’t like people, hearing a small child sounding so upset made her feel weird, and she didn’t like that.

“Look, I can tell you’re panicking, so just breathe, alright? Whatever’s happening, I’m sure it’ll be fine in the end.” Hannah’s voice lacks the normal softness Grave would be used to, but she could tell it was in there, even if it seemed to be clouded. The words had the same sentiment, even if her Hannah would have phrased it a little differently and maybe a bit kinder.

“Yeah… thanks.” Grave nods. She feels a little bit calmer about the situation, but her mind wasn’t quite caught up with it all yet. Her head was still slightly unscrewed, and she didn’t know how long that would take to fix itself.

“You’re like, ten right? What are you doing out here all alone?” Hannah questions frowning. If it was any other person, she wouldn’t care, but a kid being alone on a street Hannah knew to be very busy felt wrong to her. Wrong and off.

“I-I um… missed… the bus to get home.” Grave bold face lies to Hannah. She couldn’t exactly tell her the truth, that she came back in time way too far and is now stuck there for a few days, shed surely sound crazy.

“Mhm, sure thing kid. I meant why aren’t your parents with you, a kid shouldn’t be left alone, ever.” Hannah states clearly, seeing through the lie in a second and aiming her hidden empty eyes down at Grave where the much younger girl stood, slightly shorter than her now.

“Because… they suck.” Grave says honestly, looking at Hannah as she raises her eyebrows, that response seeming to have surprised her a bit, a small pit of worry in her brain at that.

“They suck, huh?” She questions, knowing the kid wasn’t really lying. She knew all the ways a parent could suck, and some were way worse than others. But all kids deserved good parents in Hannah’s eyes. She knew all about sucky parents, and didn’t really like the thought of other kids going through the same things.

“Mhm.” Grave says simply as she looks at Hannah, her face black even though she knew Hannah wouldn’t be able to see it.

“So, are you planning on going home to your sucky parents?” Hannah questions, the concern that was inside her not showing through on her face as she talks to the child. She had no idea what the answer would be; it all depended on how bad the parents were and how stubborn the kid was.

“I guess I could walk there. It’s only like… three of five blocks to get there and it’s not that late-” Grave ponders as she stands in front of Hannah, thinking about what she could do. Hannah was thinking too, wondering about this kid and their home life.

“Do you not wanna go home?” Hannah questions, the concern increasing at the kids seeming disinterest at going home to their parents. Most ten year olds would be crying for their parents and would jump at the chance of going home, but not this kid. And admittedly, that worried Hannah, though she would never show it.

“I mean, kinda? On one hand, my parents are home, on the other hand, I don’t have to talk to them and on one foot, if I don’t go home then my mum would be mad.” Grave explains as she thinks, and Hannah gets genuinely concerned now. It was evident the child didn’t want to go home because of their parents, and that struck something inside of Hannah.

“How sucky are your parents, kid?” Hannah asks, concerned. She didn’t want a bad answer, but she couldn’t knock out the possibility of getting one from this kid, and then what would she do? She didn’t know if she could let a small child go home to bad parents, but what was she supposed to do instead?

“Not extremely sucky, but they do yell at each other a lot and get mad when I try to say anything, but then again my mum did give birth to me and I’m living under the house she bought, so I don’t really have any say in anything she does.” Grave shrugs it off, clearly used to all of this. Hannah huffs in an annoyed tone.

“You don’t owe your parents respect just because they made you, kid. They shouldn’t be yelling at you all the time.” Hannah sounds neutral enough, but inside her head she was frustrated with the parents of this kid for making her think this situation was perfectly fine. Parents can argue, sure, but do it away from the damn kids, and don’t yell at them when they try to speak their minds.

“How do I not? I spent nine whole months in her and she decided to keep me, I should be grateful for that.” Grave tries to justify, showing her naive side to Hannah. Kids often didn’t believe their parents could be bad people and would wave off their misdeeds in the hope of attention and love. Hannah knew that all too well.

“Just because a parent decides to keep their kid, doesn’t make them a good parent, trust me…” Hannah remembers her human parents her and her twin brother were given after being kicked from heaven and reborn as more human. They were atrocious, but for the longest time, the twins ignored it in the hopes they would be loved. It was wrong, not to mention a complete waste of their time.

“Oh… okay.” Grave sounds downtrodden. She believes Hannah, even if she still feels like she owes her parents respect, even when they don’t give her any of her own. Hannah’s concern for the child grows, actually cracking onto her face a little in furrowed eyebrows and a slightly softer voice.

“I don’t mean to upset you, kid, but you gotta know your own self worth. If you really want to go home, I won’t top you.” Hannah says simply, listening to the air around them as Grave thinks. She didn’t need sight to know the kind of expression that the kid would be wearing, and she felt bad for putting it there.

“I don’t wanna go home. I-I can… stay at a friend’s house until tomorrow, I’ll tell my mum tho-” Grave explains, though her voice catches Hannah’s attention slightly, a slight tremor behind it.

“Hey, no reason to get upset. You okay?” Hannah asks, her eyebrows conveying her concern a bit more as she talks to the kid in front of her.

“I’m fine. I’m actually kinda happy because it’s not a school night and I can stay up late.” Hannah can feel the kid smiling, which calms her down a little.

“That sounds like a good plan.” Hannah remarks as she listens to the kid in front of her, her voice s bit lighter and back to its more neutral tone many would mistake for cold and blunt.

Grave’s phone vibrates as she speaks, making her check her phone. Apparently her friend had an insane sense of timing, as she had text her at that very moment.

“hhh I gotta go to the day camp for a while and phones aren’t allowed but I’ll text you when it over uwu.”

“Hm. Fuck.” Was all Grave could say in response, slightly surprising Hannah with the swearing, though she chose not to say anything about it. This wasn’t her kid, what did it matter?

“Fuck?” Hannah questions, unable to know what was going on until the young child explained it to her. She had heard the phone, and could only assume whatever was on it wasn’t something Grave had wanted to read.

“Fuck.” Grave replies, and Hannah could tell she was nodding, even though she couldn’t see it. Hannah scrunches up her face as she replies; reminding Grave she doesn’t know the situation.

“Why? I don’t know what’s going on.” Hannah says firmly as she waits for the small child to reply to her.

“My friend isn’t gonna be home today.” Grave explains to Hannah, sounding frustrated as Hannah understands the situation she has been placed in.

“Oh, well fuck.” Hannah replies bluntly, brain thinking of other options for the child who didn’t want to return home, face neutral as her brain runs a thousand miles a second. She sighs before speaking again. “Look, I realise this is probably super weird, and feel free to say no. but you seem to have a weird… knowledge of me, so if you wanted to stay at mine and my brothers place tonight, I wouldn’t be against it. We both took childcare classes and used to be babysitters, so its not like we have no experience.” That wasn’t a lie, Hannah and Iden would baby-sit all the time when they were younger, and had kids even stay round theirs when their parents were working.

“…Alright, sounds legit.” Grave says in a blunt voice, though she was secretly very excited to spend time with the twins, especially since Hannah at least seemed to be very different to the version of her she knew. Plus, she knew them. She knew they would never hurt anyone, especially a child. She knew she was safe, and that was enough for her to look forward to this.

“We just gotta wait for my brother… though, it is cold out, are you wearing a coat?” Hannah questions, unable to tell by the noises coming from Grave’s clothing what the answer to that question was. It was cold outside, even Hannah could feel it biting into her skin as she stands.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Grave replies simply as she shifts to stand closer to the edge of the shop, away form the people bustling into the shops. Winter was always hectic, and the Christmas rush had definitely begun, shoppers running around.

“My brother works down the street in the old bookshop there.” Hannah explains, pointing a finger in the direction she meant. “You wanna walk down and meet him?” Hannah asks Grave as she points.

“Yeah, he sounds cool.” Grave nods happily, though she tries to hide it, and the fact that she already knows Iden is very cool. Hannah smiles, and it actually looks genuine on her face for a moment when she does.

“Yeah, he is, let’s go. Oh, uh, a tip, walk slightly behind me so I don’t smack you.” Hannah explains to the child, though she had a feeling that somehow, she would already know this.

“I already know.” Grave smiles as she answers, getting slightly behind Hannah as she begins to walk, swinging the stick as she steps. Hannah huffs at that, though it isn’t annoyed sounding, more amused.

“Had a feeling you would.” She replies, smiling inside. This kid was strange, but she kind of liked it about them. “Hey, I know you know my name, but I didn’t get your…” Hannah reminds the child as they slowly start to walk.

“Oh! Its Grave.” Grave replies as she matches pace with Hannah, making Hannah smile again, though it was smaller, it still placed genuinely on her face.

“Nice to meet ya, kid.” Hannah says with a slightly warmer voice as she leads Grave to the bookshop.

As they walk, Hannah can feel the temperature dropping in the air, and it starts to smell cold too, making her huff as she knows the inevitable conclusion. As if on cue, something small and cold touches her nose, melting into a drop of water as it hits her warm skin. Snow. From the feeling, it was coming down pretty well and heavy, and would probably be there for a few days at least.

“Hhhh its s n o w.” Grave says happily, and Hannah can feel her shaking next to her, though it seemed to be from excitement rather than the cold around them.

“You like the snow?” She asks the kid, even though she already knew the answer to that question from Grave’s reaction, making her smile inside.

“Yeah! It feels nice.” Grave explains. It’s a take Hannah had never heard. They had never really placed or done anything in the snow when they were kids, so her opinion was neutral. Maybe she would like it more if she could see what it looked like. Iden had told her it sparkled under the light.

“Suppose so, yeah. The bookshop should be down here.” Hannah turns into the smaller alley she knew was there form her mentally mapped route, recognising the cracks in the pieces of concrete that reassured her she was walking in the right direction. She reaches the door and looks to where she knows Grave is standing. “You cool with going inside?” Hannah questions.

“Y e s. I love b o o k s.” Grave says happily, making Hannah smile as she pushes open the door into the old bookshop.

“Let’s go then.” She says as she walks into the shop. It was warm inside, books stacked high on the shelves, some newer, but most of them were old and classical books in their original covers, painstakingly cared for and sold to people who wanted them. Hannah knew Iden would be sitting at the counter, potentially reading himself. She knew his long black hair would be tied back in a bun, as it always was for work, whereas she let her cropped ginger hair do what it wanted.

Grave starts to sweat immediately in the warmth of the shop, warm was not something that got along with her after some of her… experiences. Her breathing became slightly harder too, her lungs having to work.

“Hey Iden.” Hannah hears him put down a book. He was reading. Hannah can hear Grave shift beside her, but getting flushed and finding it hard to breath can come naturally between two harshly different environments, so she doesn’t say anything, though she does keep an ear out for further changing.

“Hannah, are you aware a child followed you in?” Iden questions, placing his bookmark back into his book as he sets it down, looking at his blind twin in questioning, knowing she would know the expression on his face. Hannah huffs in response, voice blunt once again.

“Yeah, I brought her. look, long story cut very short, she’s staying with us tonight.” Hannah explains in her normal dull voice, surprising Iden, though he smiles at them both.

“Okay, that’s no problem with me.” He says happily as Grave watches them. She feels very happy inside to be with them and watch this, but physically she was in pain, the warmth attacking her in uncomfortable ways. It didn’t help that it was stuffy in the shop too.

“Hi!” Grave puts it aside, waving to Iden with a smile on her face. Now that she had been placed in her ten year old body, he looked even bigger than he normally did.

“Hiya, what’s your name?” Iden smiles slightly as he looks down at Grave, who was focusing on answering and trying not to think about the warm stuffy shop she was currently in.

“I-I’m Grave. It’s nice to meet you.” Grave replies happily, though the air burned her skin, though she knew no burn marks would be left on her skin.

“Iden, and it’s nice to meet you too kiddo.” He says happily as he looks down at her, coming out from the counter and placing a book near Hannah, allowing her to hear it. “Okay, I have to sort some stuff in the back before I can leave. Do you guys mind waiting? Hannah, I left a Braille book out for you on the counter by the edge.” Iden explains. Hannah shrugs in response.

“I don’t mind, kid, you cool to wait?” She asks Grave as she grabs the book on the counter, packing her cane into her bag and skimming her finger over the title, opening the book when she decides it’s interesting enough to bother reading.

“Yeah!” Grave replies, not fully paying attention to them. Iden was already gone so she was focusing on gripping her legs and trying not to comment on the pain that was spreading through her skin.

“Do you wanna try and fine a book to pass the time?” Hannah questions as she reads her own, pointing in the direction of all the other bookcases in the shop as she does so, face neutral as she reads.

“Yeah, that sounds nice.” Grave says as she nods, watching as Hannah nods back at her and continues reading her book, finger gliding over the pages, showing how experiences she was with reading Braille.

Grave manages to find a book and flips it open, reading to try and distract herself from the pain that is slowly rising in her body, but it keeps going up and up, making Grave feel worse and worse as she tries to distract herself. grave slows her breathing down in an effort to forcefully cool herself down, but in a shop this warm and stuffy, it didn’t have a hope of helping, and the pain keeps climbing up and up. Grave puts the book down to focus on her efforts, but it doesn’t get any better for her, and eventually the pain is so bad that all she can do is put her head in her hands and let out a large shaky breath.

Hannah hears the shaky breath and looks up from the book she was still reading, her finger stopping as she moves her head in the direction of the noise, eyebrows knitting together in a frown.

“You alright over there?” She questions, hearing the ragged breathing from Grave very well now as she keeps her head turned in the direction of the young girl, waiting for her response.

“I um… I-its too hot.” Grave explains simply as she looks at Hannah, the pain written on her face, not that Hannah could feel it, but she could sense something was off.

“Too hot?” She questions as she puts her book down on the counter, moving slowly towards the younger girl, unaided with her cane she had put away. But she knew the shop well enough to move through it safely. She stands in front of Grave now, still frowning.

“Too hot.” Grave confirms as she slowly nods, hands gripping her hair in an effort to distract from the other pain coursing through her body. Hannah places a hand on Grave’s forehead gently. The skin felt cold as ice to the touch, and felt almost like getting a cold burn, slight pain dancing over Hannah’s skin.

“What do you want me to do?” Hannah asks the young girl. Sure, she felt cold, but Hannah wouldn’t say that. Clearly Grave felt hot and uncomfortable and in pain, and who was Hannah to deny any of that? She couldn’t deny what Grave was feeling, so she had to help.

“I-I just wanna go outside.” Grave says in a small voice, making Hannah frown again at the pain in it. She gently places her hand on Grave’s shoulder, spinning the girl to be in front of her so she could easily walk her outside.

“Alright, lets go out.” Hannah states simply as she holds Grave’s shoulder in her gentle grip, making Grave look up at her and speak again, trying to make light of the situation.

“You don’t have to go with me if you don’t want to-” Grave starts, though a stern look from Hannah causes her words to go dry in her mouth.

“I’m not leaving you alone like this.” Hannah’s voice is sharp when she speaks, more of an order than a statement, but there was a veil of worry for the child behind it. Hannah wouldn’t leave her alone, in case she needed anything, Hannah had to be there in case.

“Okay…” Grave allows herself yo be lead out of the bookshop, feeling immediate relief when they get outside, the cold winter air smacking into her, starting to sooth her painful skin as Hannah stands near her.

“Wanna tell me what’s going on?” Hannah questions Grave. She could tell something was wrong with the kid, and didn’t quite know what. But it didn’t feel right to her. grave had been freezing to the touch, but was burning up, probably from the inside. It worried Hannah, though she kept her face composed.

“It’s not… I’ll sound crazy-” Grave starts, but once again Hannah cuts her off, the sternness in her voice back again, though the concern was more obviously mixed in as she leans down, slightly taller than Grave in her ten year old body.

“Kid, your skin is cold to the touch yet you’re burning up inside, something happened.” Hannah states as she leans down to be closer to Grave, eyebrows pulled together once again, eyes softer behind her glasses. “I promise I’ll listen.” She reassures the child, and she meant it. She wasn’t going to brush off the feelings of this kid. Grave knew what was going on, not Hannah, and she would listen to her if it meant getting the truth of what was going on with her.

“I-I um…” Grave chuckles slightly as she continues. “I actually already know you. I’m technically from the future, I know that sounds corny, a-and you were with me and I’d gotten stabbed and you said that Iden was coming and if he couldn’t come then I had to use my time fuckaroo power to go back to when the situation didn’t happen-” Grave sighs as she realises something. “You meant the temperature thing, didn’t you?” She asks, feeling dumb as Hannah’s face softens.

“I did, but that’s fine too.” She answers softly. In a strange way, she believed the kid. She knew when people were lying, and this kid had none of the signs. She wasn’t lying to Hannah, so she trusted the words that came out of her mouth.

“Sorry. But now I’m gonna be stuck here for a day. Anyway, about the weird temperature thing…” Grave sits on the floor. “get ready for a crazy ride!” She exclaims as she prepares herself to explain it to Hannah.

“Ready.” Hannah sits down next to her and turns towards her as she waits for Grave to explain everything to her.

“On August 14th, 2019, I went missing. I was riding on my bike and I saw some weird thing in the forest and me, being dumb, tired and downed an entire thing of Nyquil before riding, decided to go and check it out. The thing was ten feet taller than me and it didn't have a face but it had a flower bud like head that opened up to reveal it's teeth. I ran as fast as i could, but it caught me and it bit me. It ripped my left arm off. I passed out and woke up in a place that looked just like the forest, but darker. The trees were black and there was no sky. That place is called The Upside Down, a shadow or echo of our world basically. It's everything bad. There was an entire search party for me and nobody found me for a while, but on the first of September, my 'body' was found in a lake.” Grave begins playing in the snow as Hannah listens and processes. Hannah nods as she finishes speaking.

“Was it not yours?” She questions, tilting her head as she listens to Grave play with the snow.

“It wasn’t. The body was actually fake.” Grave explains, Hannah nodding.

“That makes sense.” Hannah agrees as Grave opens her mouth to continue.

“You, Leena Jake and Iden were there to see the body and you waited until everybody left to go into the room where they had my body and cut it open. There were no organs, just cotton.” Grave explains, making Hannah snort.

“Hah, what a shitty fake.” Hannah observed dully as she listens to Grave, taking in every word and mulling them over inside her brain. Despite this never having happened to her yet, the words made sense inside her brain, like perfectly cut puzzle pieces, slotting together to make a blurred image she couldn’t quite see yet.

“You found me in the upside down a week later, i don't know how but it was probably with your shadows. I was so pale and cold that you tried to get me to take a warm bath but I told you it was too hot and you said 'I could make it a little bit cooler but you have to warm up' and I said 'No. He likes it cold' and walked out of the bathroom. Nobody could get me warm. I had to go to this hospital and i went there for three days every week and I slowly started to forget you guys kinda. I didn't talk anymore unless spoken to and it started getting worse. I was a million times more pale and colder and I started to have visions of the thing coming to hurt people. And the only way to fix this is to...burn the shit out of me until it comes out of me...” Grave explains and Hannah nods.

“That’s why you were too hot…” She explains to herself, realising the situation as Grave becomes quiet, her words trailing off in the silence as Hannah hears her shuffling the snow with her hand, playing with it.

“Do you think something would happen if you burned it out?” Hannah questions the child beside her as she listens to the sound of the snow shifting places on the pavement below them.

“I mean, I’d be sweating a lot and I’d need to be cooled down before I pass out and it’s gonna hurt a l o t to burn it out but its worth it. I can just use heaters and stuff to do it-” Grave explains as she sits on the floor looking at the cold snow around her, feeling better now she was out of the building and in the cold.

“Why haven’t you?” Hannah asks, facing Grave as she asks the question, her voice lower and more serious than it had been before.

“I have to be tied down to do it. Every time I tried to do it, the thing would take over me and turn everything off. I can’t exactly tie myself down, so…” Grave explains, watching Hannah nod her head.

“That’s true, have you not asked me in that time?” Hannah asks quietly. Any other person would have blown this kid off as crazy, but Hannah knew there was truth behind her words, and that made her feel horrible that the kid had gone through all that at sixteen years old.

“I didn’t. I tries to play it off like nothing was wrong and tried to do the thing whenever I was home alone-” Grave cuts herself off as Hannah watches her talk about the other Hannah. She wondered what she was like in the future, hopefully much different than she was now.

“You should ask her. She’d do it in a heartbeat if she knew it would keep you safe.” Hannah’s voice is back to its normal dull state, but she was telling the undeniable truth to Grave. If future her was anything like current her, she would do pretty much anything for someone she cared deep enough about.

“Hhh okay… I will. Should your Iden know this or no?” Grave questions, watching as Hannah mulls the question over, scrunching up her face as she thinks.

“My Iden didn’t seem to recognise you in the way I did. It might be better for him not to know, lest he stress himself out.” Hannah explains, a gentle smile on her face.

“Alright, sounds good.” Grave smiles at Hannah. “I’ll be here for the next few hours, what do you wanna do until I can go back?” Grave asks Hannah.

“Well, Iden should be finishing around now, and he always had a ton of stuff to carry back to the house after Saturday shifts, so we can head back and see what happens?” Hannah poses, listening to Grave as she shifts in the snow to face her.

“Sure, sounds fun.” She says as Hannah gets up, extending her hand down to Grave as she smiles gently.

“He’s probably ready by now.” Hannah says as Grave reaches up and takes the hand, smiling as Hannah pulls her up.

“Lets go get the man-boy.” She jokes as Hannah opens the door and heads back inside, keeping it open behind them this time as they enter.

“Iden, you ready to go?” She asks, Iden coming into view with a large box of stuff, smiling as he carries the very heavy looking box.

“Yeah, I’m coming!” He exclaims as he shifts the box into his hips as he begins to usher them out of the shop, Hannah getting out her cane as she leaves. Once outside, Iden balances the box on his hip as he gets his key out, locking the door swiftly before starting to walk down the street in front of Grave and Hannah.

“How ya feeling by the way? Today must have been a lot…” Hannah asks as she and Grave walk down the street behind Iden. Hannah’s stoic face had a small crack in it, slight concern leaking out as she talks to Grave.

“Well my mind is fuzzy from time travel, I almost passed out about ten minutes ago and I’ve just found out its hard to do things with your powers while your blood is yeeting itself out of you… so I guess you could say I’m a little tired.” Hannah can feel Grave smile after she speaks and returns it softly. She had done more smiling today than she had for a while. It felt nice.

“How tired is a little?” She questions, not one to settle for vague answers when it came to things like this.

“Compared to how I usually feel with patrol and making things till 6AM on a Saturday, I’d say it’s barely tired.” Grave elaborates, making Hannah laugh.

“Good, I don’t want you passing out on me while we walk.” She jokes as they move, able to hear Iden ahead of them as he mutters to himself and hums.

“Don’t worry, I’ve had worse… he can’t hear us, right-” Grave questions, looking at Iden in front of them in a sudden fit of worry, though Hannah waves it off.

“Nah, he’s in his own world when he walks.” She explains as they follow him.

“G o o d. He can’t be freaking out over hearing that a ten, technically sixteen year old got stabbed and stuff.” Grave sighs as Hannah chuckles beside her.

“Yeah, don’t worry, he won’t know.” She reassures Grave, smiling as she thinks about how Iden would react. Yeah, he could never know.

“Hey, wanna know something funny?” Grave questions as Hannah instinctively turns her head to look at her, pretending to think on the question.

“Mmmm, sure.” Hannah answers simply as she listens to her feet crunching in the fallen snow, through she could still feel more falling around them, getting stuck in her hair and eyelashes as she walks.

“So me and Iden spar with each other a lot and i punch him in the chest. he doesn't even m o v e. i ask him what would happen if i punch him in his stomach, he says go on cuz he's curious too...and then i punched him in the face. he moved back a little bit. it wasn't a lot but it was an improvement.” Grave explains, listening to Hannah laugh in response.

“That is an improvement, I think I’m the only one who ever was able to move him with a punch, but that’s not amazing for us.” Hannah half explains, half jokes.

“I actually yeeted him last week. I know he’s strong as hell but I thought I killed him because he was quiet from laughing so hard-” Grave explains much to Hannah’s amusement.

“Yeah, he does that. it’s like a dying seal.” She explains, almost laughing as Iden comes to a short stop, turning down another road and heading to their house.

“He does not sound like a dying seal! He sounds as rad as he is.” Grave defends Hannah’s twin as she laughs.

“He can be rad and a seal.” She explains herself, listening as Grave flounders.

“I…” Grave nods in defeat. “Good point.” She admits, making Hannah laugh as they come to a stop outside the house.

“I know.” She jokes as Iden unlocks the door for them, letting himself in, followed swiftly by Hannah, pulling Grave in behind her as she shuts the door.

“Hh its c o o l in here. It looks noice.” Grave states as she looks around the space. It has a simple décor, but it suited the space well. Generally neutral things were met with occasional splashes of colour and light in the room in front of her, the living room.

“You’ll have to thank Iden for that.” Hannah jokes as she pulls her coat off, placing it on a hook hanging off of the wall.

“I will! By the way, normal you is going to remember this and so will you, so… yeah!” Grave smiles as Hannah turns to face her, pulling her sunglasses off to reveal her blacked out eyes, smiling.

“Well, I’m certainly grateful for that… come on, lets get inside the living room.” Hannah says calmly as she walks inside further, feeling Grave following after her.

“Okay.” Grave smiles as she follows her in. Iden can be heard unpacking things in the kitchen as Hannah sits on the sofa, feeling her normal tiredness washing over her, being displayed appropriately on her face.

“What do you wanna do, kid?” She questions Grave as she sits down, rubbing a hand over her face.

“I want you to go to sleep. You look sleepy.” Grave half demands, almost making Hannah laugh out loud at the stern voice she tried to put on. She settles for a smile at Grave.

“Kid, when you’re blind, you’re always tired. But, cant risk messing up my sleep schedule.” Hannah explains.

“I mean, I look kinda high all the time because I see everything like a heat wave on drugs, so I kinda understand that.” Grave explains as she watches Hannah.

“Exactly.” Hannah laughs tiredly as she continues. “Not seeing the world takes a lot out of you, but you learn to live with it.” She shrugs as she sits down, looking in Grave’s direction as she speaks. “So, anything you wanna do now that you’re here?” She questions the child in front of her, smiling.

“We can make up dumb stories that don’t make sense. Give me a sentence that makes so sense and I’ll start from that.” Grave offers, Hannah trying to come up with something only to find her mind was too tired to even try. Today had been a longer day than normal and Hannah was feeling the effects.

“I think my brain may be a little too fried to think of anything kid.” She admits.

“That’s fine! I can just fix my- oh wait… I don’t have it yet-” Grave says dully as she remembers, making Hannah tilt her head.

“Your what?” Hannah questions the child.

“My prosthetic arm. I don’t have it yet tho because my arm is still here.” Grave explains, looking down at the arm in question, completely intact on her ten year old body.

“That does seem to be the issue.” Hannah jokes in a light manner with the kid as Iden pops back in, done unpacking whatever he had gotten from the shop this time.

“It is, but I can easily make or fix something else… is there anything to fix?” She questions, not noticing Iden until he made a sound as he thought of an answer.

“Hmmmm, hey Han, are your special glasses still broken?” He questions, earning a glare from Hannah as he does, though he raises his hands in a defensive manner, knowing Hannah would know he was doing it, making her huff.

“f u c k y e a h, fixin time babey-” Grave exclaims as Iden walks to go upstairs, calling out behind him.

“I’ll go find them.” He explains as he heads up the stairs, feet thumping on the carpeted wood.

“Thank you!” Grave yells out, hearing Iden laughing as he walks upstairs, the noise carrying behind him. It takes him a few minutes to locate the glasses in whatever space Hannah had thrown them into, but eventually he comes back down with the glasses and a tool kit in hand, giving both to Grave with a smile.

“Go ham, kiddo.” He says happily as he heads into the kitchen to start making food. Hannah can hear him pulling things out and chopping with one of the many knives he insisted on buying.

“Thanks!!!” Grave’s smile widens as she starts to work on them. Hannah listens in amusement as Grave fixes the glasses within three minutes, only managing to cut herself once, making Hannah chuckle.

“That didn’t take long.” She remarks as she listens to Grave finish the glasses.

“Well I kinda know how to fix these already, so y e e.” Grave remarks as she hands them to Hannah, who puts them on a side table.

“That’s true, hey, why don’t you come sit up her with me.” Hannah suggests as she listens to Grave putting away the tools.

“Oki.” She can hear Grave get up and join her on the large arm chair Hannah sits in. “Hi, do you come here often?” She giggles at her own joke, her laugh very light and sweet, making Hannah laugh.

“I would love to say no, but…” She jokes, smiling. “Iden will be done with dinner soon, so you have that to look forward to here.” Hannah smiles again at the small child. “He’ll probably make spaghetti if I know him.” She laughs.

Noise can be heard at the mention of food, and Pudge, Hannah’s pit bull wanders in slowly, looking around and sniffing the air, able to smell the meat Iden was starting to cook. She wanders up to the chair, looking at Grave with inquisitive eyes.

“Babey!” Grave gasps softly as Pudge finishes her inspection of the new small human, jumping onto Hannah’s lap and applying small licks onto Grave’s face, making Hannah laugh at the noise as Misty can be heard starting to run down the stairs, loud thumps growing quiet as he too enters the living room.

He doesn’t give the small human a second thought, jumping on top of the chair, and on top of Grave by consequence, his large fluffy body almost engulfing her as he shuffles around on top of the two of them.

Grave laughs the entire time, happy with the attention from the dogs she knew so well from her teenage years, Hannah laughing as well as Iden eventually sticks his head back into the room.

“Dinners ready!” He yells, the dogs running off of them at the mention of food, going in search of their own which Iden had laid out for them in the kitchen as Hannah gets up and pulls Grave into the dining room with her, sitting down as Iden gets ready to serve the food.

The rest of the evening and night was fun. The meal was amazing, but Grave already knew it would be. Iden and Hannah seemed to become more like the versions of them she knew, cracking jokes with each other and interacting with Grave more and more. They huddled in a pile after dinner, watching random films Grave remembered from her childhood that she hadn’t watched in ages. Hannah and Iden were as they always were, kind and thoughtful towards her. when the twins eventually had to go to bed, Hannah lent Grave the space in her bed, happy to sleep on the sofa with the dogs. She met Grave in the morning as she was getting ready to go, giving her a big hug and smile as she watched her return to her own time, a small wave being given as she vanished.

#writing with friends #writing #my writing #original writing #not my oc #others ocs #one shot #original characters #original story #avengers au #alternate universe #tw blood #tw injury #sleepisafuckinglie #House of Hell

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ephrampettaline · 5 years

Photo

[ chatzy log with @freddiewatts ]

One of the pocket worlds opens. A bakery plays home to a medieval repulsion. The question of the ghosts recurs.

Ephram had to admit, he hadn't strictly been paying attention to the change in weather as he and Freddie made their way to the very specific corner store that sold the very specific spumoni cannoli that Freddie swore he wouldn't be able to make it through the night without; his fairy was wearing a new cologne and Ephram was mightily distracted by the way the scent wafted up to the tips of his pointed ears.

But when they rounded the mural of frolicking fluffy werewolves on Nussbinder Avenue, Ephram could have sworn that one of them bared its teeth. And by the time they reached the door of the bakery, the thickness of the mist around them was impossible to not notice.

"Honey," he said, grip on Freddie's arm cinching instinctively tighter, "is it just me or is this nighttime dew a lil more aggressive than usual?"

Freddie lifted his free hand to cover Ephram's where it rested on his bicep, and stepped a little closer to his husband as he looked round at the ever-worsening fog-like mist, frowning when he met his eyes again. "Aggressive feels like a very good word for it, sweetheart, yeah," he said - and then he paused, listening, his brow furrowing, certain he'd heard something growl. "Ephram..." he said softly, "-darling, did you hear that, or am I going mad?"

"Maybe we best get inside." Ephram pushed open the door to the corner bakery and likewise pushed Freddie through, shutting it behind them as an alarming amount of faintly musty mist swirled in around their knees. "Jeez. I dunno what all's happenin' out there but--" Ephram stopped, turning as he felt Freddie's hand grasp him more intently.

'Out there' was perhaps an optimistic view of what was happening, if the piles of rotting confection studding the counters were any indication. "It's like," Ephram said, snapping his fingers as he tried to place it and failed, "--like that book with the wedding cake. The moldy one. You know the one. Freddie, what the /fuck/." Ephram hopped back slightly as one of the big croquembouche displays started to move, jerking and dropping slimy dark globs that made a stinking miasma rise into the air.

"Oh, fucking hell," Freddie swore, his words belied by the worry in his eyes as he took in the rather dramatic shift in their surroundings. "I don't know if I can stand any more of this," he muttered, wishing he'd been satisfied with the myriad of desserts and snacks they had at home, rather than pouting and insisting their way into this current mess.

He pulled a face as the scent of the spoilt cream thickened around them, then turned to look out the bakery's front window, the street nearly obscured now by the mist. "Should we try to get home, do you think?" he asked, the oppressiveness of the odd almost-phosphorescent fog making him feel slightly anxious. "I trust your judgment here, love. What should we do?"

It was then that he realised that the spoilt cream stench wasn't spoilt cream at all, and they weren't alone in the shop. Something had disturbed the display. "Ephram," Freddie said, tugging his husband back away from the toppled pastry, "Sweetheart, we need to get back out onto the street. At least on the street there's somewhere to run to."

Ephram made a rumbling noise as what used to be choux pastry flumped entirely down into ooze, a bigger and more alarming shape rising out of the leftover muck. "I reckon we're a mite past that point, honey. We best better find something to use as weapons," he said, wishing he was still in his uniform with his rarely-used but trusty sidearm.

Looking around, Ephram grabbed two stanchion poles from when the bakery (somewhat grandly, considering its location) put up velvet ropes out front to corral the lineup, handing one to Freddie as he hefted his own. A harsh scuttling, chittering sound came from the creature on the counter as it leapt to the ground, looking as though it moved in separate pieces -- and when it hit the ground and moved towards them, the reason for that became clear.

It wasn't one animal but a group -- an uneven, malformed circle of rats, huge ones, all bound together by their tangled tails -- but mostly what Freddie and Ephram could see was unnaturally huge maws lined with double, triple rows of razor-sharp teeth.

"Christ!" Ephram barked, for a few seconds scared out of his wits. But then instinct kicked in and he swung his metal pole, shearing off the head of one of the rats and braining another. Not that it made much difference; the dead rats disappeared under the churning mass of still-living ones as their tinny shrieks increased in volume and they scuttled, obscenely fast, towards the couple's feet.

Freddie, incredibly grateful that Ollie had opted to stay in that evening (whatever was going on, the fairy felt confident that his familiar would be alright so long as he had the home-court advantage), and he lifted the pole that Ephram had handed him, ready to follow suit and swing it - before remembering that he was a sodding fairy, and he could do better than that. As quick as he could, he tossed a handful of dust at a platter that had toppled to the floor, glamouring it into a thigh high tangle of razor-wire, stretching four foot across, and then turned the pole in his hand into a cricket bat, before glancing back at Ephram.

"Fancy something a bit bigger or sharper, love?" he asked, his eyes still on the rat monstrosity, "Or are you happy as you are?"

Ephram, after the initial repulsion and shock at this horror-movie-grade rat king, had felt a familiar bristling heat fill his chest and throat with a weapon in his hands and something god-awful to direct it at. He grinned broad and feral at Freddie's display of fairy magic as a clump of the rats tore off from the whole and struggled, shredding themselves open, in the razor wire.

"I'm good, baby," Ephram said, watching Freddie heft the cricket bat in a way that made his prodigious muscles strain against his very expensive shirt. "I dunno bout /happy/, exactly, but I got a feeling we're set when it comes to dealing with whatever this fresh fuckin' mess is." The rats -- which seemed to be increasing in size and volume -- began scrambling over each other to try and vault over the building heap of writhing corpses and get across the razor wire barrier, and Ephram growled as he swung his pole again, sending a few of the rats flying across the shop to smash against the wall.

Freddie watched as the rats that hit the wall sprayed reddish black blood upon impact, leaving thick sticky smears behind as they slid down to the floor. "I'm going to need a 6 hour bath after this," the fairy said, grimacing as he brought his bat down hard on the advancing hoard, crushing a few skulls and knocking a few more into the wire, creating a thrashing tangle of gore. "Where the bloody hell are they all coming from?" He swung the bat again and sent a large one skittering sideways, doing nothing to slow down the rest of them.

"God, I wish I could glamour a gun," he said, sparing a glance to watch his husband on the attack, "-unfortunately I haven't the first bloody idea how the mechanism works."

Ephram grunted as he lifted the heavy pole over his head and brought the broad circular base down onto a couple of the monstrous creatures, covering his sneakers and jeans in disgusting spatters. "When we git home," he said, taking a sidelong step to bring his body against Freddie's as the separate rodents that comprised the rat king slowly, grotesquely pulled free from the tangled knot of tails and started to make a circle around the two of them, "I'm gonna kit us out both with guns and bullets and you ain't goin' nowhere without bein' armed to the teeth, okay?"

"I'd normally argue a bit with that," Freddie said, "You know I'm not much for violence..." He wound up and swung his cricket bat viciously, connecting with three of the now-independent rats, the noise that followed a hideous blend of wet crunching and squealing, "...but if this is the way things are going to be for the moment, I think I may need to suspend my usual reticence. Armed to the teeth sounds perfectly lovely to me, sweetheart; thank-you."

Despite the seemingly endless seethe of rats, Ephram wasn't feeling too bad about their chances; it would be a charnel house by the time they were able to get out, and they still might get bit, but at least there were plenty of rat casualties as a show of their own killing prowess. He was about to say as much to Freddie when another sound cut through the scratching and deformed squeaking. It was a weak voice, an older man, calling from the back of the bakery.

"Are you real?" he was asking, plaintive and reedy. "Are you real? Can you help me leave this place? Don't make me stay here, please!" He appeared in the doorway behind the counter, a faint blue ectoplasmic glow around him, and Ephram slammed himself harder against Freddie in a rush of concern. "Shit," he said, "shit, /shit/, Freddie -- he's a ghost, he's somebody's goddamn /ghost/!"

The fairy sagged a bit as his husband pressed closer, wishing they could just stop for a moment and get their breath, maybe attempt to work out just what in the world was going on - but there was no time for that now. And even less time for it when the ghost appeared. Freddie was taken aback by the sight of him for a second - just long enough for a rat to scramble over the toe of his shoe, and to be unceremoniously kicked off - and then he called, "We're real, love. Who are you? And what the sodding hell is going on?!"

The ghost’s mournful blue face swung to look at Freddie. “It’s Great Expectations,” he said.

And then the two of them were back out on the sidewalk, so fast and sudden that they stumbled and had to catch themselves against the wall with the mural -- no strange threatening wolf faces now, just fluffy smiles and fur in paint. But the disgusting evidence of the fight they’d had was still smeared and speckled over their shoes and clothes, and Ephram stared down at it with a fox grimace, lips pulled back over his teeth, before he reached out for Freddie’s arm.

“The ghosts,” he said, and didn’t need to elaborate ... on that, at least.

The old man had been somebody’s ghost, somebody’s visitation in Soapberry. Which meant that somewhere in the slipstream they’d landed in, Edith was trapped. And they would be going after her.

Well-armed, this time.

#freddiewatts #th: a pestilence #plot:the blight #disturbing imagery cw #gore cw

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shinigamikarinkurosaki-archive · 7 years

Text

Title: The nightmare of his inevitable return

Pairings: badship AiHina, RenShuuKiraHina

Words: 2300+

Summary: pre TYBW arc, canon divergent. WARNINGS-- explicit anal noncon, explicit gore, slurs, slut-shaming, food. Her nightmares are preparation for his cruelty.

The days of her sweet little pigtails felt longer ago than they may have actually been. The longer she studied the saggy, grey face in the mirror, the further those days seemed, like the seconds that ticked away on the wall clock chased them back decades. Anything reminiscent of that naive chapter, like the little nubs she pinched under both her ears, looked wrong, like a hollow-eyed corpse paraded in that youth’s stead.

She relinquished her short hair and lumbered out of the bathroom. Her limbs felt heavier and heavier, weighed down by guilt and ghosts. Shinji had taken notice of her exhaustion and sent her home. She had just stopped in the bathroom to compose herself. It proved to be a fruitless effort, ever-malaised by the haunted Fifth Division.

The halls teemed with the reminders. The Soukyoku itself, the site of Aizen’s most witnessed treachery, was visible outside her office window. If she positioned her head just right, it looked like she was cradled in its legs and patiently await for the firebird to turn her into ash.

There was nothing that could kill Aizen. The Gotei’s strongest went head-to-head against him and survived by only millimeters of Aizen’s bad aim. He was alive. He had all the time in the world to plan their demise in painful detail.

She almost wished he would’ve hurried up. The suspense left her nauseous.

Her feet followed the same path home. It often felt like her funeral march, where Izuru, Shuuhei, and Renji would carry her home in a plain urn from her squad funeral.

She knew when she finally arrived home as Renji seemingly materialized out of nowhere and kissed her cheek. Whatever he said afterwards was lost to her. The ghosts paralyzed her eardrums some days. He, and Shuuhei and Izuru, understood she had her bad days and she was undisturbed until they climbed into bed with her some hours later.

She was roused by the shrill calls of jackals. Her eyes flung open upon reception of the bizarre disturbance. Dogs infrequently wandered into the Seireitei, but it sounded like she was with an entire pack in a cave.

She tried to roll over and shake Shuuhei to check it out with her and found she could only move her eyes. Even her tongue was immobilized. It felt like she was wrapped in a heavy force, totally inert. Her heart hammered as her eyes flicked about in a frenzied search for whatever practitioner bound her. It was dark, impenetrably so, only painted masses of black in various dilutions visible against each other.

Her gut burst as she watched. A hand, pale as snow against the unnatural darkness, reached towards the ceiling with a handful of her entrails and vertebrae. Tears washed over her temples as searing terror flooded her.

More of those ghoulish claws materialized out of the darkness. They ripped her flesh off her arms and her legs. Nails dragged through her trunk, they ripped groves into her breast and shred her insides like she was a thread-bare washrag. Her face was scraped off from her forehead, her eyes gouged and throat torn as it dragged down to her breastbone. She was grabbed by her scalp pound into the floor. Her head shattered like fine china, the shards of the skull lacerated her skin and brain alike, and as her conscious faded with death, she knew she was naught but a messy pile of scraps.

She flew upright and shrieked. Her head pound and body ached and she sweat profusely in her sleepwear. It was a dream, she told herself, just a dream. Just a nightmare, she would just shake Izuru to attention and ask to be held and kissed until morning light came---

“Did you like my homecoming gift, Momo?”

Her blood turned to a cold slush. Her gaze snapped to the source of the voice in the doorway. Aizen was silhouetted by the hallway light, recognizable even in his restraints. There was no way she would have ever forgotten that charming smile and heartless gaze. They glowed like the moon and stars in the night sky.

Her throat swole and he laughed as her watery eyes overflowed over her cheeks. The day had come.

“I hope those are tears of joy, Momo. I missed you.” Aizen said as he stepped towards her. She scrambled back, and she slipped and fell to the floor in the slick puddle just off her bedding. Her spouses were laid peacefully on their backs, their necks leaky stumps where Aizen surely took off their heads.

“No,” she wailed, “you’re not real. You’re just a nightmare. This is another nightmare….”

“Am I, Momo? I’m a nightmare, but you’re definitely not dreaming. That was one of my illusions,” Sousuke said as he kneeled in front of her. He held her chin between his fingers. She tasted bile as he continued. “You know it’s not beyond my power of total hypnosis. You know I’ve had all the time in the world to plan exactly how I’m going to torment you before I resume my mission.”

She flung herself out of his hand and emptied her gut onto the tatami. Aizen held her hair back and nuzzled her cheek. “You’re pathetic Momo, it makes me hard,” he cooed.

A new wave of horror seized her as he dragged her back to her blood-saturated bedding. She only sobbed. She yearned to join her husbands in kinder death, but Aizen was ruthless. She knew he would’ve only made it worse for her if she fought. It already hurt so much. Her chest ached in trauma anew, his grip were like enormous pins in her tender flesh, and she knew he’d rip her from the inside out.

She barely heard Aizen shed his restraints. She squeezed her eyes as he wrapped his hand around her little neck, and he pushed himself into yieldy, raw body. Her whines came as tiny whistles from her pinched throat, and her misery as rivers down her temples.

“I knew,” Aizen groaned, “when you first sucked me off that I had to ruin you. I had to ruin every time you fucked another man, every time you kissed them, every night you when to sleep. You’re so good Momo, it was so satisfying destroying you.”

She could only cough. He ripped open old wounds, old scars, he he cut new ones with his vulgarity. He was the devil.

Aizen slammed into her. His face fell into her chest and he sunk his teeth into her breast. He slammed her head into the floor, and her vision spotted. She willed those hands to come back and tear them apart as he came. She was filthy, she reminded herself as Aizen filled her, she was a filthy whore and she always had been and the only way she would’ve ever been clean again was in death.

He pulled himself out of her. Her backside bled, she knew, familiar with that soreness. Aizen pulled her up by her neck, her vision spot with her pinched arteries, and he pushed his groin against her face. It reeked of her shit and blood, and she retched. “Eat it,” he told her.

“No,” she whined.

Aizen slammed his knuckles against her cheek. She shrieked as her shoulder collided with the floor. Her fingertips gingerly touched her jaw, swollen like a stiff balloon, and she just knew it was broken. “Get up and eat it, Momo,” Aizen said.

So she did. She sat on her legs, held the back of his thighs, and wished he swiftly ripped off her head.

“You were always a terrible wife, Momo. You never did anything right, not even die. You’ve always been a useless, dumb whore and you always will be.” It felt like a knife twisted in her chest. She didn’t know what else she expected from Aizen, he got off when he degraded her, but she still loved the man whom tenderly wrapped her in his arms and kissed her hair. “You’re exactly like me, Momo,” Aizen continued, “a parasite. You can’t give anything to anyone, you can’t even give your cunt to your own spouses. You’re a pain in the ass and you know it.”

Aizen was right of course. She was an emotional deadweight for Renji, Shuuhei, and Izuru. It was so hard for her to recall the last time she comforted them. She made them meals, she blew them, she loved them with all her heart and that was all she did. She just took and took.

So she bit down on him. Blood filled her mouth on top of the taste of sewage. Aizen shrieked as he held the stub of his cock. She spat the rest of him out without any amount of satisfaction. She just felt dead, grimy, hollow, ruined. There was nothing more for her aside from death. She just wanted it all over with.

“You bitch!” Aizen howled. He shoved her onto her back and straddled her hips. His blood-smeared hands grabbed her by her throat and her wrist, and then he pulled. She wailed as her shoulder popped, screamed and arched her back as her muscle tore, and blood gushed from the growing fissures in her shoulder. There were no words to do it justice, only the piercing roar of panic.

“Momo!” She recognized Izuru’s blue gaze, dimmed by his undeath, as he held her wrists. She shrieked at the top of her lungs and pleaded something incoherent. “Momo, it’s just me,” Izuru said. Surely, he was another dream to lull her into a sense of comfort. She was sure to be torn asunder again!

“No!” she barked, wrapped in her spouses, “this isn’t happening again, this isn’t happening!”

“It's okay, Momo, it's just us,” Izuru promised her. She wept as they held her. Any second, their arms would turn into boas and their kisses into fangs and she’d be crushed and chewed.

“Just do it, you bastard!” she snapped. “I hate your games. Just kill me already!”

Izuru hushed her. “No one’s going to kill you. You’re safe, we won’t hurt you. I promise you Momo.”

It was so sweet and so Izuru and it was a lie because Aizen was a cruel man who wanted to watch her descend into madness. She could only rock and wail and wait for yet another brutal demise.

She waited some minutes and nothing came, no strangulations or beatings or cuts, not even anger. Shuuhei, Izuru, and Renji merely held and kissed her, told her how much they loved her. Her heartbeat and her tears eventually slowed. Shuuhei kissed her sticky cheeks, and she leaned into him, drained of fight.

There was a knock at the door followed by Rose’s voice. “I’ll attend to him,” Izuru said.

She fell to their pillows with Renji and Shuuhei. Her fingers combed through their hair, and they purred affectionately.

“Sweetheart,” Shuuhei began. How she had grown to love those pet names. “How about I make us some potato wedges?”

She hesitated. Potatoes were her favorite comfort food. But she was certain she was in another nightmare and it would only get to be more gruesome. If she didn’t swallow a pin, Shuuhei’s visage would lace the butter with arsenic and her husbands would scream at her as she writhed in agony on the floor.

Then again, what choice did she have? Shuuhei and Renji pulled her to her feet, Renji carried her across his arms out of their bedroom. Aizen must have known she loved it when she was carried. It felt like a march to her death with that thought.

It was warm in Renji’s roomy lap. Renji pulled her against his chest, and his heartbeat thumped rhythmically in her ear like a lullaby, and Izuru’s conversation sounded distant even though he was only paces away at the door. It was hard to not melt into Renji despite her alarm. If she would die, she would have at least died in Renji’s warmth and love. She supposed it was the littlest things that made a difference.

“You’re as pale as death, Momo,” Renji commented as he swept her damp bangs out of her face. “Talk to us, love. You know we’re here to help you.”

She knew the kind illusion would break again and her lovers would descend upon her with mockery and brutality. She couldn’t, though she still tasted shit and her face ached.

Izuru joined them finally. His cheek laid on her hair like it always did when he held her. The vividity hurt so much. “He’s not here. He can’t hurt us anymore, boo,” he told her. Izuru was more familiar with her nightmares, as she was with his. He knew the drill.

Her eyes watered. It was a nightmare, Aizen’s illusion, but she couldn’t bring herself to deny her longest lover when he had done so much for her despite her anxieties. “He was back, a-and he was so real, and it hurt so much.” She shuddered upon recollection. “This must be another one of his illusions….”

Renji and Izuru smothered her with kisses. “I’m so sorry. Whatever he said to you is wrong. He’s wrong and stupid and he’ll rot in Hell for everything he’s done to us, Momo,” Izuru said to her. She blubbered gracelessly. Words couldn’t fix her, they barely comfort her, they never chased away the nightmares. She was ever burdensome.

Shuuhei returned with a generous pile of golden potato wedges on a platter. He waved his hand over the steam that rose from them, and joined their pile. “Those are still a little warm,” he warned them as he fished a half-smoked cigarette from the ashtray.

Good things reduced her to tears quickest-- not that it was hard to in the first place. It was the relief of hopeless, of years and years of mistreatment, that reminded her how raw her mental wounds were. Even the simplest gestures made her chest ache. The love Izuru, Shuuhei, and Renji gave her felt like she had been stabbed again, but it was a sword she happily threw herself onto.

There were no pins or poison in their snacks, just edible love. Yet it failed to wholly comfort her. There was nothing that could have made her forget his incarceration was impermanent. It wouldn’t be just a nightmare someday.

#bleach #momo hinamori #aihina #badship aihina #renshuukirahina #otp: we have carved a home out of our hearts #badship: your lips are the chalice from which I sip poison #I'm posting it here bc I don't like it but I still wanna share it #awekfjalwkefja

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