#past kidnapping implied

[slippedtheknot]

"I Didn't Mean to,"

Whumpee sobbed as their shaking fingers grabbed pieces of porcelain. Blood dripped onto the floor from the sharp edges.

Heavy boots were coming down the hall and Whumpee tried moving faster; no doubt that Whumper would be pissed that Whumpee broke his plate. Whumpee swallowed when the boots stopped in front of them.

"Uh oh, what happened, Whumpee?" Whumper's voice was an eerie type of calm.

Whumpee tried to still their breathing so that they would be slightly coherent: "I...I broke a plate. I promise that I didn't mean to though! It...it just slipped from my hands when I was putting dishes away and I tried to clean it up. Not to hide the fact that I dropped it just-"

"Hey hey, it's all okay." Whumper's hand rubbed the back of Whumpee's neck and they froze; waiting for Whumper to slam their head into the floor. "Can you look up for me, Whumpee?"

Whumpee tilted their head up and was met with minty green eyes. That's odd...as far as Whumpee knew Whumper had cold and distant blue eyes that would stare into their soul. As far as Whumpee knew, Caretaker had the minty green eyes.

Whumpee blinked again and looked into his eyes. The eyes definitely belonged to Caretakeer, but then, why were they in Whumper's kitchen?

"You aren't there anymore, Whumpee." Caretaker's hand moved to Whumpee's shoulder as he pulled them into a much-needed hug.

[whumpacabra]

I am thinking about a character coming home late. I am thinking about their friends being worried, relieved beyond belief to see them again (because the last time they disappeared…it was bad). The character doesn’t want to talk about where they’ve been, and that’s fine, but their friends just want to know they’re not hurt -

And at that the character snaps at them, violently pushing them away and running to hide in the nearest room with locking door. They’re fine, they just need space - because they are hurt (it’s bad) but they don’t want to worry their friends, they want to be able to take care of themself.

(It wasn’t supposed to happen again.)

[pipsqueaks89934]

Yandere Merman x Marine biologist part two

Warnings: broken ankle, Yandere stuff

It’s been a few weeks since I’ve been kidnapped by the Mershark and it’s been unpleasant! I haven’t tried to escape since my ankle was still broken.

“Y/n, I'm back,” Wade said while setting a bag of fish in front of me. “Did you miss me?”

“Wade, can I ask you something?” you asked him while looking at the ‘food’ he set down.

“Of course my starfish!” he chirped happily while getting closer to me.

“I hate it here,” you started while looking at Wade in his eyes. “Can I please go home, I'm cold and hungry, and I want to lie in bed!”

“Y/n I can't go on land how would I be there with you?” he asked while taking one of my hands into his cold ones.

I didn't say anything as I turned away from where Wade was sitting. I heard him sigh as he rubbed my head.

“How about you tell me what you want and I will bring it to you,” he said while looking down at me with a loving gaze. “How does that sound?”

“Cold,” I said while staring at him blankly. “And wet.”

“If I let you be back on land you have to stay with me,” he said with an unhappy expression. “Don't make me regret this!”

{~~~<Mini Time Skip>~~~}

It didn’t take long to get to the land like I expected. I tried to get up and walk to my house but I forgot that my ankle was broken so when I tried to stand all I did was scream in pain and fall back into the water.

“Be careful!” Wade said while helping me to a sitting position.

“How will I get there with a broken ankle?” I cried while trying to wipe away the tears.

“I'm not sure…” he whispered while stroking my cheek.

After a few minutes, Wade brought me to a rock and we sat out of the water for a while so I could dry off a little. We sat there for a while and once I was fully dried off I looked at Wade and right before he jumped into the water his tail turned into legs.

HOW THE FUCK DOES HE HAVE LEGS?!

“It looks like we can go inside your house after all,” he said while looking at me with a creepy smile on his face. “Isn't that amazing?”

[absolute-flaming-trash]

Pairing: Yandere!Mahito x AFAB!Reader

NSFW

Word Count: 2'133

Warnings: Yandere, Dubcon, Implied past noncon, Kidnapped reader, Captive reader, Denial of basic needs, Graphic descriptions of period blood, Descriptions of period cramps, Humiliation, Mahito is a fucking asshole in this. Dead dove do not eat.

Additional Notes: This is disgusting and I'm not sorry for a single moment.

There were just over two hundred cracks in the ceiling.

Two hundred and three, give or take, from the ones you could see.

It was hard to be accurate from your position on the floor. The angle from your little corner combined with the dim lighting of the sewer did you no favors, but you had counted them all five times now.

It was something to do. Something to distract you from the horrendous, gnawing pain that wracked your abdomen.

You had been dreading this day. After two weeks in Mahito’s captivity, you were nervous, but after three? You knew it was no longer a matter of “if” but “when” your period would hit while in his “care”. Mahito liked you too much to kill you, at least for now. He had made that explicitly clear in his extremely chipper response as to why you were still alive, however part of you genuinely wished to join the growing masses of his experiments in the tunnels rather than go through this.

You had nothing. No pads, no tampons, and nothing that you’d normally use to cope with the pain. After discovering the magical combination that eased you through this hellscape with minimal suffering, you had never gone a cycle without it.

But now you were dealing with it in full force for the first time in god knew how long with nothing but the cracks in the ceiling to distract you, and god, what a poor distraction it was.

After the sixth round of counting you couldn’t take it anymore. You could feel the blood oozing through the material of your pants and the cramps were fucking unbearable.

 “I need a new set of clothes.”

Mahito hummed softly in curiosity, giving you a once-over from his spot in his hammock. “What’s wrong with the ones you have on now?”

“I just need new ones.”

“Need or want~?”

“Goddamnit, Mahito, please.”

The slip-up left before you could catch it, and you watched in what felt like slow motion as his expression shifted into sinful delight mixed with intrigue.

You’ve never begged him before. Not once. Not unless he made you.

“Really?” He sat up and turned his body towards you fully - leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “Now what could be so dire, I wonder?”

A particularly nasty cramp hit at that exact moment, and it took everything to keep from doubling over and letting him see you like that, but your pain tolerance was not good enough to keep such a display from showing on your face.

He saw it clear as day.

“Oh?” He tilted his head. “Are you sick?”

“No, but I genuinely would rather be.” You muttered, hugging your abdomen and closing your eyes while taking a few deep breaths through your nose and exhaling shakily through your mouth.

The crunch of debris could be heard as Mahito got off the hammock and strode over to you. You opened your eyes in time to see him crouch down to your level.

“You’re pale and you keep wincing, you’re sick.”

“I’m not sick! I’m just-” You cut yourself off, taking a moment to collect yourself since the growing exasperation in your tone was only serving to add to Mahito’s excitement over the whole thing.

Might as well rip the bandaid off…

“I’m on my period.”

He blinked, processing the information for a few seconds before he threw his head back and started laughing. The sound was sharp, and it echoed around the room - making you flinch back with a deep frown.

“It’s not funny.”

“Oh, you have no idea how funny it is.” He replied, still giggling as he spoke. “Your period?”

You grit your teeth to the point your jaw ached. “My menstrual cycle, it comes every-”

“I know what you’re talking about.” He said, dismissing your words with a wave of his hand and leaning in closer to you - analyzing everything. “Never thought I’d have a human around long enough to witness it, though.”

Humiliation burned in your face, but you kept eye contact. “Are you going to help me or not?”

Mahito clicked his tongue and lifted a hand to poke at your stomach - easily maneuvering around your attempts to bat it away. “Why should I get you new clothes when you’re going to bleed through those too?”

Another wave of cramps passed through you, causing you to hiss through your teeth. “So you propose I should just sit in my own blood?” Indignation practically dripped off your tone as you seethed.

He shrugged as he changed his position so he was sitting cross-legged in front of you. “You could always take them off,” He smiled. “I won’t mind.”

Of course. Of course, that would be his solution to your problems.

“I’m good, thanks.” You muttered, not bothering to hide the disgust on your face.

“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before,” He said as he rested his chin in his hand. “Besides, the longer you sit there doing nothing, the more blood is going to soak into your clothes.”

If looks could kill he would’ve been buried ten times over, but Mahito’s smile only widened in response.

“It’s your choice~.”

Damn him. Damn him to the deepest pits of hell or whatever godforsaken crevasse he crawled out of.

But he was right.

The humiliation felt like it was going to swallow you whole as you reluctantly hooked your thumbs under the waistband of your pants and underwear and pulled them down in one go, refusing to look him in the face the entire time you did so.

The tangy smell of iron hit the air immediately.

“Wow, you bleed a lot.”

His comment did absolutely nothing to help the way you wanted to simply curl up into a ball and cease to exist, and you placed your bundled-up clothes in front of your lower half to preserve some form of modesty.

“Will you help me now?”

He chuckled again, “Now how can I help you if I have no idea just how much you bleed?”

You returned your gaze to him, glaring daggers. “What?”

“I need to know the right stuff to get since clothes aren’t the only thing you need.” He replied so casually that you wanted to strike him across the face. “I’ve read human menstrual products aren’t… what’s the phrase? One-size-fits-all when it comes to flow.”

A twitch went through your eye. “I flow heavy.”

Mahito snorted, rolling his eyes after. “Obviously, but I need to know how heavy.”

You continued to stare at him, waiting for him to elaborate on exactly what the fuck he meant by that.

He smiled. “Let me see.”

…Oh.

The simmering humiliation-based anger quickly turned into nearly excruciating self-consciousness, and you pressed your thighs together tightly.

He sucked on his teeth and went to stand up. “I guess you don’t really need my help, then~.”

“No, wait!”

You hated it. The desperation that coated your words as you said them. Mahito only paused and tilted his head at you in that horrifically condescending way he seemed to enjoy so much as he waited for you to comply.

“...How long do you have to look?”

He tapped his chin and looked up in faux thought before giggling again. Like this was all a game, and to him it probably was.

“As long as I need.”

No. Not probably. It definitely was.

Damn him.

You couldn’t even look at him, not wanting to see what kind of vile excitement pulled at his stitches as you moved your clothing to the side and slowly but surely parted your legs. Your gaze was transfixed directly on the wall behind him as he made himself right at home - settling on his stomach with his face far too close for comfort from the most intimate part of you.

The silence was the worst part of it all. What was probably only seconds felt like hours and you made the mistake of looking down to see him just… staring at your cunt. Looking at it with wide eyes akin to a kid spotting a prize at a shitty pop-up carnival game as menstrual blood dripped from you.

His hands felt like ice when one closed around your thigh and the other swiped two fingers through your folds, causing your body to jolt backward in response.

“What the fuck are you-”

“Helping.” He stated simply as he slipped two fingers inside you without so much as a breath of warning.

It made your body seize and your hands shot to his shoulders out of reflex, but you knew better than to try and shove him off. Instead, you gripped onto him, stabilizing yourself as you were forced to endure it.

You just had to endure it.

“Huh.” He hummed, already deep in thought - marveling at the sight of your blood coating his fingers every time he pulled them out and plunged them back in at a horrifically languid pace. “You feel different when you’re like this.”

It felt awful. An achy, churning sensation that added to the usual discomfort you felt whenever he decided to touch you like this. Every time he crooked his fingers he made horrible scooping motions whenever he pulled them back out, and you could feel the excessive wetness as it left you.

It was disgusting. Repugnantly nauseating, and yet he also knew how to play you like a fucking fiddle as he did it. The mortification welled in your soul like the tears that welled in your eyes, and your knuckles went white as they gripped the fabric of his shirt to deal with the building pressure.

“This isn’t helping.” You said, breath catching on the last word.

“Is it not?” He asked, faux ignorance mixed with mirth as he lifted his head enough to look you in the eyes. There was no obvious expression for once, but you could feel the way his soul taunted yours. “Pity, I read orgasms supposedly helped with the pain.”

A whine slipped from your lips as he curled his fingers again, stroking a part of you that should’ve been reserved for lovers. For someone who cared for you as much as you cared for them.

Instead, you were reminded of just who it was between your thighs when you felt him smile against you - stitches bunching against your skin as the motion of his fingers repeated over and over and over again.

“Then again, you’re not quite there yet, are you?”

The sound that left you was strangled, a mixture of a grunt and a whimper that only added to the coil of what you could only describe as despair in your gut.

You refused to call it pleasure.

Each quirk of his wrist was like fire turned liquid with how it burned in your veins. It only grew hotter when he split you open with another finger, causing your hips to jerk against him. He only laughed and pinned them in place with another set of hands.

“Never mind, it looks like you’re particularly sensitive when you’re like this~.”

The curses you wanted to call him died on your tongue as his efforts doubled, blurring the line between disgust and euphoria even further until it finally came to a head. You could feel it in excruciating detail - the pulsing of your walls as they contracted around his fingers and your climax washed through you. The predisposition set upon you by your cycle amplified everything. The good. The bad.

The repulsive.

“There!”

Mahito’s cheerful voice was almost as jarring as the sensation of him pulling back and sitting on his haunches, withdrawing his fingers from you and leaving you with a worse ache than before.

Again you made the mistake of looking at him as he held up his hand, his fingers dark red with a thick glob connecting his middle and index together in a maccabe web.

Bile rose in your mouth and you had to quickly look away in order to prevent yourself from emptying what little stomach contents you had onto the floor when he placed the fingers in his mouth, sucking them clean.

“Are you done?” The question was bitter, full of resentment and utter shame as you waited for your humiliation to be complete.

There was that awful silence again, hanging in the air until it was broken by the sound of shifting clothing immediately followed by the sensation of gravity taking hold as you were pushed completely onto your back.

“Not yet,” Mahito answered, eyes gleaming as they stared down into yours - unyielding and completely merciless. 

If eyes were windows to the soul, you couldn’t bear the clarity in how he looked into yours.

And your gaze shifted back up to the ceiling, beginning to count once more.

© absolute-flaming-trash 2023. Do not repost, modify, copy, or claim.

[the-meme-monarch]

ok sorry i didn’t go insane over emesis blue like i thought I would but it is making me scared irl now. i can’t turn over in bed bc what if there’s a severed head positioned like it’s peaking around the doorframe. what if i look over and The Butcher is there

[macknus]

Heroic Betrayal (V)

Splinters of treachery cut deeper

Read part one // Master-post // continued from here

This part is dedicated to @jeremy-no, I hope you enjoy!

Morgan lingered by the stairs, not quite meeting Flynn’s eyes as he approached her. Instead, she stared at the hall Supervillain disappeared down, her heart building itself up and breaking again with every breath she took.

“Morgan,” Flynn said, voice soft. Morgan swallowed the lump in her throat and tried to compose herself, but she was rattled… she couldn’t help it. Supervillain terrified her. “Hey, Morgan.”

Morgan suddenly stumbled back a step. Her eyes flashed to Flynn’s outstretched hand, his palm facing her, frozen in the air by her gaze, as if he was about to touch her cheek. Her eyes hardened into stone as she sharpened her gaze into a chilling glare.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” she whispered, deathly quiet. Her voice trembled with a mix of fear and fury. Flynn had the gall to look hurt by her outburst, as if it was a shock that she would react like this after he left her alone, with Supervillain of all people. She searched his face for a sign of sympathy or vulnerability, any trace of the Flynn she knew. The hero who was always her shoulder to cry on when things got hard.

“Morgan,” Flynn said again, her name like a prayer from his lips. “I’m sorry. This is my family. They always have been.”

“And I’m just the job, right?”

Flynn didn’t reply and maybe that said everything. She half-turned her body to the staircase and nodded to him to go first. Mostly to try and hide her unshed tears from him.

Flynn sighed. He ran his hand through his hair before he started up the stairs. She followed him, dragging her lead-like feet. Morgan stopped at the top of the stairs and glanced to the left while Flynn went to the right. The stairs were in the centre of the landing, two doors to the left, three to the right, but Flynn didn’t go for one of the doors. Morgan followed him so he wouldn’t get suspicious of her scoping the layout of the house, but she almost rolled her eyes when she saw the second set of stairs.

As if sensing her disbelief, Flynn glanced at her over his shoulder and shrugged, a half-hearted smile on his face. “I told Supervillain how capable you were. He took it seriously.”

Morgan swallowed, the words like a knife in the chest… or more accurately the back. She blinked at him; it was all she could do when all she wanted to do was scream and charge and hurt him, but she just stared.

Flynn nodded and started up the stairs again. These stairs were cut in half in a double L shape adding more corners; slowing Morgan’s escape if she were to come barrelling down them in the middle of the night. She’d waste time having to turn three times, slowing her momentum, the only benefit was her pursuers would also have to make the turns.  

That little nugget of satisfaction crumbled when Flynn opened the door to her room, because that’s all that was on this floor: one single room. All for her.

Which means they’d hear her coming.

She bit her lip to keep in the helpless sob that wanted to escape her throat. She had to stay cool. Stay cool, stay cool, Morgan. It’s fine. It’s fine. It’s—

“So, this is your room,” Flynn said as she stepped in, and gestured to the big space that was all hers. He looked back at her to see her reaction, and suddenly he was beside her. “Morgan… you’re crying.”

Those two words broke her, and she didn’t hold her emotions back any longer. She stepped away from him, tried to put space between them when her knees buckled, going like jelly beneath her and she fell heavy. Flynn caught her before she hit the ground. She hated the way she leaned into him, clung to his shirt as shaky sobs wracked her body.

He held her tight, one hand on her hair, brushing it from her face so her tears wouldn’t wet it, lightly running his fingers through. “I know. It’s okay. I know, you’re okay. It’s okay, Morgan. Let it out. I’m here.”

There were no words that could fully encapsulate her distress, so she didn’t try and speak. She hated how comforting Flynn’s cologne was, how soft his words were in her ears. Everything was so familiar and—

Fake, a nasty voice supplied. All his kindness and love were just a way to get close to you, to keep you close to him so he could betray you and get you here. Keep you here.

The salt from her tears washed into the cut in her lip from Villain. She winced. Usually, she was more robust than tears making her flinch, but she was just… exhausted. It was a long night… or day. Or both? Whatever. It didn’t matter now.

She sat up in Flynn’s arms and let him wipe the tears from her cheeks. He offered her a small, encouraging smile and she forced one onto her face. If she was going to be here for an indefinite amount of time, then she needed at least one person on her side. Since Villain already hated her guts and Supervillain was happy to have her not causing any trouble, the only one who she could sway was Flynn.

It was Supervillain’s master plan after all… he made Flynn become her partner, her best friend… even, in fleeting moments, more than that. It was her greatest mistake, trusting him, leaving an acrid taste in her mouth, or maybe that was just the dried blood. He glanced at her lips, then back to her eyes, a sad look crossed his features that made her chest tighten and bloom with a wailing warmth, like a banshee screaming in her ribs.  

“Here,” Flynn said. He took her arm gently and pulled a magnetic key from his pocket. He pressed the magnet to the bar and the cuffs clicked open like a ring-binder, freeing her wrists. She retracted them to her chest slowly. Her gaze went passed Flynn, the banshee’s screams turned her body cold, a sudden sadness overwhelmed her as she slowly pushed him away. She turned her back to his chest and slowly pushed herself to her feet. She stood still, rubbing her wrists as she took in the room.

To be fair to Supervillain it wasn’t a cramped cell like the basement, it was spacious. There were two skylight windows high on the domed roof, high enough that she couldn’t climb out of them without a considerable effort on her part, or maybe she was just tired. A large, extremely comfortable-looking bed was directly in front of the door, pressed against the back wall with two cherry wood bedside dressers. One had a lamp on it, the other a handful of books.

“There’s clothes in the wardrobe, but if you need anything I can grab it from your apartment or bring some stuff from mine.”

“Okay,” Morgan replied. Flynn played with the cuffs in his hand like he so usually did, always fidgeting when there was something on his mind. She didn’t prompt him to speak like she normally would. She didn’t have it in her.

“Um, if you need anything, my bedroom is the first door on the right from the stairs.”

“Okay.”

“Okay, uh, I’ll leave you then. To get settled in and stuff.”

Morgan nodded, biting her lip to keep in her sob. Half of her wanted to turn around, run to him, wrap her arms around him and ask him not to leave her, but the other half – the stronger, prouder half – won over. She stayed still as he left and shut the door behind him.

Morgan tentatively approached the bed, taking small, easy steps until she reached it and sat down heavily. The sheets were nice, the duvet cover soft. The duvet itself was thick and heavy. Morgan could just imagine the warmth and comfort smothering her into unconsciousness.

There was a full-length mirror in the small alcove beside the door and Morgan almost cried at her appearance reflected back at her. Her hair was a mess. The usual white-blonde strands looked more golden with how much grime and dirt clung to it. It looked more like a bird’s nest made with mud, leaves and twigs, probably from the scuffle in the woods with Flynn. Tears-streaked clean trails down her cheeks, cutting through the layer of dirt and some of the blood that was caked under her nose, and down her chin.

Crimson drops of blood-stained Morgan’s grey tunic that was visible below her thick, leather armour. She wanted nothing more than to just take it all off and burn it. If Supervillain got his way, Morgan wouldn’t have a use for it ever again. She shivered at the thought and shoved it down deep inside her, locking it away until she was ready to deal with it.

Her eyes zeroed in on her shoulder harness and she shot to her feet, turning and reaching behind her. Her hands found the familiar grips of her blades and she could’ve screamed. She unsheathed them with a swift, sharp click and a shink. Morgan turned again to face the mirror, and she smiled when she saw the usual fire in her eyes.

It was as if the world attuned around her, and she was whole again. As if one of her senses were muted but now she can finally breathe, the edges of everything sharpened in her eyes and she could feel the familiar alignment of her skill, mind and body all working as one as her grip settled around her blades.

How stupid could Supervillain be that he—

The fire stumbled in her eyes to a stupor, a flicker of hesitation dimmed it to a sporadic smoulder, as the light dimmed and fizzled out. Her grip turned white knuckled on her blades; her certain, strong hands shook as the realisation dawned on her.

This was just another way to humiliate her. Supervillain knew she would never use them, because if she did… if she even thought about such a thing then Sidekick would die and he’d reduce her to nothing, lock her in the cellar and throw away the key. Leave her to Villain, or her own despair, whichever killed her first.

She sheathed her daggers and undid the strap of the belt that crisscrossed over her chest and back, deflating as she went through the familiar motions. She pressed a hand to the front and lifted her dual scabbard-pauldron-hybrid over her head, laying it out carefully on a cherry wood table against a wall. Ignoring the fact that the wood in the room was all cherry, and the pang in her chest at sharing that it was her favourite with Flynn. She slipped her armour off as well, though the belts and buckles took more time to unfasten, and she let her mind wander into nothingness at the repetitive rhythms.

The first thing she noticed when she was relieved of her armour was the stench of her; a mix of blood, sweat and fear clung to her skin. She didn’t want to have a shower, she didn’t want to interact with anyone in this godforsaken house ever again, but she didn’t really have a choice in the matter.

She walked to the wardrobe and ignored the usual style of clothes she wore as a civilian, grabbing a pair of grey tracksuit bottoms and a sweatshirt and fresh underwear. She released a long exhale, expelling all the air from her lungs before she walked to the door and opened it. Flynn’s back greeted her, and she paused, brain too slow to process that.

“Can I use the shower?” She asked, voice empty.

Flynn shot to his feet, startled. She blinked at him as he turned. He looked guilty, like a child being caught being somewhere he shouldn’t. “Uh, yeah. Yes, of course. This way.”

She didn’t talk the entire way down the stairs. Thankfully the bathroom was on the second floor, but it was on the other end of the second floor. Morgan’s heart leaped into her throat as hope — that wretched, black thing — bloomed once more. She had to cross the other set of stairs to get to the bathroom. Tantalising information that she locked away in the cunning corner of her mind and continued on as if she were still hopeless and heartbroken. It wasn’t hard to fake, a lie wrapped in truth, all numbed by exhaustion.

Flynn opened the door for her. “Do you need me to show—”

“No,” she replied. “I can figure it out. Thank you.”

She passed him, and when their chests touched a pained expression crossed Flynn’s face. Morgan ignored it and closed the door on him, her heart stuttering as she clicked the lock shut. She pressed her forehead against the door, and out a breath.

How the fuck was she going to survive this?

*~*~*~*~*

Morgan’s face was obscured in the condensation coated mirror, which was fine by her, she didn’t want to see her face, now washed clean of dirt and grime. It still felt like it was on her, a film of filth that coated her entire body. Maybe that was Flynn’s betrayal, she didn’t know, but she felt a little better after the shower.

Now she stared at the door with a mutinous gaze. The locked door was a false blessing of security, but one she clung to with all her heart. She knew she had to leave eventually but she didn’t want to. She didn’t want to do a lot of things, like swallow her pride and stay in this fucking house filled with enemies that wanted her out of the city’s bigger picture.

Sidekick’s battered body flashed across her eyes, and she swallowed the bile that threatened to rise and spew from her mouth. She got to her feet and stomped over to the door before she lost the nerve. She half expected to see Flynn waiting outside like before, instead she was met with two gleaming eyes.

Morgan’s nostrils flared. “Villain.”

“You clean up nicely,” Villain said stepping towards her. Morgan fought the urge to step back, narrowing her eyes into a glare. “Of course, your nose is all busted. Definitely broken, I think.”

“What do you want?”

“Me?” Villain asked with a smirk. “I want you dead. As a sign to the rest of your little heroes not to fuck with us.”

Morgan closed the distance between them with a step, putting her face in Villain’s, despite her thrumming heart. “Too bad your family wants me alive. I guess we’ll both have to endure this misery.”

“You more so than I. After all, I’m not on house arrest. I can always go and visit sick people in the hospital—”

Morgan lunged for Villain but was stopped by her name: “Morgan.”

Morgan’s head snapped to Supervillain, fear flashing across her features before she could school them properly. Supervillain smiled, his eyes drifting between the pair.

“I trust my child is not causing you any trouble.”

“Not at all,” Villain replied smoothly. “Just waiting for the loo.” Villain shoulder checked Morgan on his way into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

“I see you’ve settled in. I trust your room is to your liking.” Morgan swallowed, a pitiful attempt to clear the ashen dryness that came to her mouth when Supervillain spoke to her.

“Flynn made sure of that,” she said, turning and walking back towards her room. She had to pass Supervillain to do that. He caught her arm before she could.

“You must let me treat your nose.”

“I thought it was a warning to not act out.”

Supervillain chuckled lightly. “No, sweet hero. I don’t intend to treat you inhumanly. Besides, I think Sidekick’s life is enough of a threat to keep you in check.”

Morgan yanked her arm free. “I don’t want anything from you.”

“How adorable that you think this is an offer you can refuse.” Supervillain gestured for Morgan to walk in front of him. She hesitated, not wanting to spend another second with Supervillain but her heart betrayed her head, and she reluctantly turned on her heel, and started down the stairs.

Supervillain followed behind. “To the kitchen, Morgan,” he instructed. Morgan turned right at the hall, passing the dining room and walking straight into what she assumed was the kitchen.

Supervillain chuckled as he followed her in. “You’re already familiar with the layout, I see.”

Morgan didn’t reply. Even if she wanted to the words would’ve died on her throat seeing Flynn sat at the island in the middle of the giant kitchen. It looked like a kitchen from downtown abbey, or the crown or something, but modernised with all new furniture and appliances.

“Morgan,” Flynn said, his eyes flicked past her to Supervillain’s, and back again, harder this time. “How was your shower?”

Morgan lingered awkward by the door, grabbing her wrist and rubbing her thumb over her skin. “Yeah. It was fine, thanks.”

“Sit beside Flynn, Morgan.”

Morgan shot him a black look, but she walked towards Flynn, nonetheless. “Why?” Flynn asked, a question directed at Supervillain, locking his phone and putting it on the counter in front of him.

A phone. Morgan tucked that information away in the back of her mind, she hadn’t even thought about phones until now.

“I’m going to re-align her nose, so it heals properly.”

Flynn didn’t say anything to the explanation as Morgan climbed onto the highchair beside him. She stifled a gasp when she felt Flynn’s hand snake into hers, flooding her with warmth and comfort that she hated coming from him. She hated how her body reacted to him like he was still the one person in the world that could make her feel safe and secure.

That alone she could live with. The thing that turned her stomach, and planted a deep seed of resentment inside her, was the fact that she didn’t pull away from him. She kept her hand firmly in his, his fingers intertwining with hers; that’s what would keep her up at night.

Supervillain walked over to her with a first aid kit in hand. He placed the box on the island counter and stepped in front of Morgan, looking down at her with a small smile. Morgan didn’t want him to touch her, to be this close to her, but she also didn’t want her nose to fuck up her breathing while she was here.

“May I?” Supervillain asked as he lifted his hands to her face. Flynn squeezed her fingers reassuringly. Morgan swallowed her pride and nodded.

Supervillain cupped Morgan’s cheek gently, his other hand going under her chin to tilt her head up as he inspected the damage with intelligent eyes.

“This will not be pleasant,” Supervillain said after a minute of silence. “Though, Flynn can tell you the amount of times I had to reset his nose as a boy. I became a pro.”

“It’s true,” Flynn said with a laugh. “And you had to do Vil’s twice.”

“Okay, Morgan. I’m going to count down from three, and I’ll break it and get it over with, okay?”

“Okay.” Morgan braced herself, squeezing Flynn’s hand as hard as she could.

“Good. Three—” Morgan let out a sharp cry and a curse as Supervillain grabbed her nose in his hand and re-broke it with a crunch. It sent waves of pain rocketing through her skull as she groaned, black spots formed in her vision as she pulled back instinctively. Supervillain kept a firm hand behind her head so she couldn’t pull away as he re-aligned her nose so it would heal properly.

“There we go, I’m sorry. It’s done, that’s the hard part,” Supervillain said as shocked tears slid down Morgan’s cheeks. Supervillain tilted Morgan’s head up again, twisting her face left and right, eyes focused on her nose as he moved her head. “Mmm. Marvellous. It looks good to me, but I think just to be sure, we should re-align it properly with the rods.”

Morgan’s eyes hardened into a glare. “No,” she said. “It’s fine. It feels fine. It will heal itself.”

“Morgan, it probably is—”

She rounded on Flynn and yanked her hand from his. “Oh please! Whose side are you on?”

“I think you need to calm down, Morgan,” Supervillain told her. The condescension in his tone just rubbed her the wrong way and before Morgan had even realised it one of her blades whizzed through the room and to her awaiting palm, she locked her fingers tight around it and glared at Supervillain, her nose flaring as her power returns and makes her feel at ease. Better than Flynn’s lofty support ever could. She didn't need him. She saw red, and wanted to draw blood from someone and Supervillain was standing so close to her.

“Tell me to calm down again,” she spat, jumping to her feet. “See what happens.”

Flynn got to his feet the same time as Morgan, cautiously looking between the two, waiting for Supervillain to give him the word before he did anything. God, how could Morgan have been so stupid to trust him?!

Supervillain was the only one whose expression didn’t change from before Morgan summoned the knife. Actually, if anything, he looked more relaxed as he folded his arms across his chest.

“I don’t need to see what happens, Morgan,” he said, fishing something from his pocket. His phone. “I just make a call, and Sidekick will be smothered in their sleep.”

Morgan let the knife fly, the point drew a line on Supervillain’s throat before settling heavy against his carotid artery. “Hard to do that if you’re dead.”

Supervillain smiled and grabbed the handle of the knife. “That’s fine by me, Morgan. Give Villain the satisfaction of killing Sidekick.”

Morgan’s shaky resolve crumbled, and her shoulders sagged as she dropped the knife. Its weight settled firm into Supervillain’s hand. He smiled at her and said: “good. Now, sit up and tilt your head back.”

“Dad—”

Supervillain held a hand up. “No, no. She’ll do it. Watch.”

Morgan obeyed wordlessly, climbing the stool and tilting her head back. She squeezed her fingers into fists on her thighs. “Look at that, Flynn. A hero that can take instruction. You could learn a thing or two from her.”

Neither Flynn nor Morgan responded. Something uneasy shifted under Flynn’s skin as he watched the girl he loved, the usually passionate, fiery Morgan, silent and subdued, waiting to do something she didn’t want to do.

Supervillain took his time, leaving Morgan sitting on the chair with her head back. He first crossed the kitchen to put the knife into the dishwasher, then washed some extra dishes on the sink to add some more humiliation to Morgan’s obedience. Then, to add insult to injury he dried the couple washed dishes, Morgan’s eyes following him all the while. Her head grew heavy on her shoulders like she was trying to hold back a kettle bell. Her neck strained as she struggled to keep it steady, not to move a muscle because she didn’t want to give Supervillain the satisfaction of seeing her fail.

Supervillain smiled at Flynn as he approached them and took out two familiar metal rods that he used on Flynn to fix his broken nose last year. “Hold her head for me, Flynn. You know how uncomfortable this can be.”

Flynn hesitated. He didn’t want to touch Morgan without asking her after that scene, and it didn’t feel… right to just do it.

“It’s fine, Flynn,” Morgan said softly as if reading his mind. Flynn swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded, more for himself than anyone else and placed his hands gently under Morgan’s head while Supervillain sterilised the metal rods.

Morgan closed her eyes as Flynn took the leaden weight from her shoulders, happy that she could finally let go and relax. Flynn was there, right behind her (literally) as she went through this new change in her life that was entirely his fault. The mutinous part of herself, that she kept chained in the basement of her mind ever since his betrayal, was preening with the fact that Flynn was there, because he would always be there. The one thing he promised her when they first became partners in the Morgan academy.

He would always be there, and here he was supporting her head through this very hard time. Or maybe it was the sheer exhaustion that had turned her mind to mush, her logic left her, and she was left only with this infuriating light feeling of safety in his hands.

“Okay, Morgan. This will hurt.”

That was all the warning she got before Supervillain pressed the rods into her nose and she fought the instinct to jerk forward. “Fuck!”

“Try not to speak,” Flynn said softly, as he rubbed the coarse pads of his thumbs over her temples. Morgan whined in the back of her throat as she felt the rods move against the walls of her nose, fixing the cartilage. Even the vibrations from her pained hums seemed to hurt her head.

But Flynn was there, whispering to her.

“You’re doing great.”

“It’s almost done.”

“You’re okay, Morgan.”

“It’s okay.”

His encouragement mixed with his motions of his thumb on her temples brought her into a weird, fugue state where her body only recognised the sensations from Flynn’s hands and voice and numbed everything else. Later on, she would realise he was probably in her head, re-arranging some of the furniture, but in that moment, she just closed her eyes and sank into the feeling.

“There,” Supervillain said, pulling the rods free. Morgan’s eyes opened lazily, staring cloudy up at a grinning Supervillain. “All done. You’ll be perfect in three weeks. Just in time too.”

Morgan’s eyelids fluttered, the fuzzy feeling in her taking over now that the danger was passed. “Three weeks?” She heard Flynn say. “That’s too soon.”

“Not at all,” someone said, maybe Supervillain. Probably, who cares? “Three weeks and she’ll have come to see our side of things, Flynn. Just look at her in your hands, completely out of it. I could tell her my big dark secret and she wouldn’t remember, would you Morgan?”

“I did that so she wouldn’t freak out—”

Morgan didn’t hear the rest of the conversation. She allowed the fuzziness to consume her like a weighted blanket, and finally, mercifully, sleep took her away from the world of consciousness.

*~*~*~*~*

Continued here

[storybook-tiles]

the future’s unwritten (the past is a corridor) | ch 1/2 | 12.3k | playlist | ghosts & hauntings

Finally, a small warble of a voice echoes through the room, “I don’t know what to draw.” he whispers mournfully, turning to look at Mike.

Mike frowns, “You don’t… what? ”

Will glances wistfully down at the pencil, a standard steely grey, still floating aimlessly in the air, “Can’t think of anything.”

Mike’s shoulders rise up to his ears. This was supposed to be simple. Just get the ghost some pencil crayons and get him to stop terrorizing them all. How the hell does it keep getting more complicated?

He inhales deeply, letting the air fill his lungs, “Well, what did you like drawing before?” When you were alive , is what he thinks but doesn’t dare to add.

Will tilts his head to the side, deep in thought. The silence stretches between them like a chasm, “It’s hard to remember,” Will admits finally, “Sorry.”

In the Fall of 1987, the Wheelers move to a new town, but when things take a turn for the worse in their new house, it's up to Mike to make contact with the strange entity haunting them.

[suspensefulpen]

Nightmares

TW: Past Captivity and Abuse, Implied Kidnapping

Happy Pride Month!

“You’re worthless Whumpee.” 

No…

“You can’t do anything right.” 

No.

“Were you born without a brain or are you just that stupid?” 

It’s not real. 

“You’re always lying to get out of punishment.” 

It’s just in your head Whumpee…

“Were you dropped on your head?” 

He’s not here. 

“You’re such a klutz.” 

He can’t hurt you. 

Whumpee could only scream as a hand reached out, grabbing them in an iron grip. Whumper appeared in front of them, leaning close and glaring down at them. “You’ll never get away from me. No matter how much you try.” 

His hand left their shirt, going around their neck. Whumpee screamed and thrashed around, trying their best to break free. 

“Whumpee!” 

They opened their eyes and found Caretaker One and Caretaker Two leaning over them with looks of concern. They instantly burst into tears as Caretaker One pulled them into their arms. 

“It’s okay, Whumpee, you’re safe.” They whispered gently as Caretaker Two placed a kiss on Whumpee’s temple. “We’re here.” 

“We’re not gonna let Whumper hurt you.” 

“Do you…” Whumpee sniffled as they attempted to calm down. “Do you promise?” 

“We promise.” Caretaker Two nodded with a soft smile. 

“Would you like us to sleep in here with you?” Caretaker One asked. Whumpee nodded, wiping away their tears. 

“I have a better idea.” Caretaker Two’s smile widened. “How about we watch your favorite movie so your nightmares will go away?” 

They both awaited Whumpee’s response as they considered the question. “Okay.” 

Whumpee soon found themself sitting on the couch with a heated blanket, all of their favorite snacks, surrounded by their friends while watching their favorite movie. They couldn’t help but smile. What had they done to get such amazing friends in their life? What had they done to deserve such friends that were willing to drop everything just for them? What had they done to earn friends that continued to search for them even when no one else believed that they would ever be found again? What being were they blessed by to have friends that were willing to help them through all of the trauma caused by their disappearance? 

Then again, this was why they were more than just Whumpee’s friends. They were above that. 

They looked up at the two, getting warm smiles in return. 

“Do you feel better now?” Caretaker One asked. 

“Yes. A lot better with you two around.” Whumpee linked their arms, placing their head on Caretaker One’s shoulder. The two scooted closer, holding Whumpee tightly.

[couldeatthatgirlforlunch]

Yandere idea, reader is dicks baby mama and when dick decides to bring her to the wayne manor the batboys are instantly smitten with her and now all the boys are trying to steal her away from dick who is ready to fight everyone for his baby mama and baby

Smooth Criminal

Synopsis: Dick's brothers want his baby and his baby mama.

Pairing: Soft!Yandere!Batboys X Fem!AFAB!Reader

Tw: Attempt at crackfic; Implied kidnaping; Implied babytrapping; Reader is insecure with post-pregnancy body; Implied forced relationship; Dick controls what Reader wears; Jealous and possessive Dick Grayson; Touchy batboys; Batboys try to gaslight Dick but he's too smart for that; Slightly angry!Reader and accepting!Reader; English isn't my first language.

Word count: 1,2k

Requested? Yes.

Extra notes: Lol this was fun. Divider.

General masterlist

“And how did this happen?”

“Oh well, this one tried to hide the little one from me for a while, but of course I found them!” Dick exclaimed proudly, but with a hint of his (mostly) past anger at you. You bit your tongue while his family laughed.

You were sitting in the manor’s living room, wearing a sundress that Dick chose, waiting for the picnic on the gardens to be prepared by Alfred. The dress was pretty, and it had plenty of room for your babygirl to grow inside your belly without restricting you. Part of you wanted to resent her for being the reason you're stuck with Dick, but it was not her fault, and not yours either, Dick would shackle you to him one way or another.

Damian put his hand on your belly. Without your permission.

“Is she kicking yet?” Dick answered him for you. “You're 17 weeks along, it could happen anytime.” He started rubbing circles on your belly, out of nowhere. “I don't think Grayson would be a much useful help with that. Truthfully there is no sure way to make a baby stop kicking. But you can try to alleviate the discomfort with warm tea, calming music, light stretching exercises and rubbing the stomach.” He smiled gently. You were taken aback.

“Damian is a pediatric surgeon.” Dick explained while draping his arm over your shoulders, before planting his lips on your neck momentarily.

“Yes. But I mostly stick to managing my clinic nowadays. Your labour’s in good hands. I only have the best of the best on my teams.” Damian gave you a small, soft smile, as if trying to reassure you. He stopped his hand movements and smoothly slid his hands around each side of your waist. He was way too close to be comfortable, and even Dick frowned, confused, at that. You tensed at how close his face was from yours, especially because of your belly and chest grownth, and the fact he was kneeling in front of you. But then- Oh…

Your whole body relaxed instantly and you just had to close your eyes.

Damian grinned smartly and Dick looked at him, bewildered.

“Back pains.” He explained swiftly, while his magic hands worked on your back. You found yourself leaning against his chest and almost laying your head on his shoulder. You sighed dreamily. “You can stop by or call me anytime those get to be too much.”

“... Or I can do it myself.” Dick went to replace Damian's hands but you shot your arms out towards him to stop him.

“No, no, no, don't- don't stop…” You moaned when Damian kneaded a particularly tense knot and practically melted against him. Damian held back a smirk, staring innocently at Dick, who looked murderous.

“Thank you, Jay. I really needed that…” 

���I know, you looked so tense when I got here. I knew I could use my hands to loosen you up…” 

Dick bursted in the apartament, having just come back from the Titans Tower and heard the weird talk inside.

“Jay… What’re you doing here?” He said, strained, but hiding behind a mask of good humor.

“(N/N) called me.” Jason shrugged.

“Didn't know you were on nickname basis…” Dick contemplated, entering the room and taking your daughter from Jasons’ arms. He started rocking her to keep her doozing. 

“We're closer than you think, Dickie.” Jason snorted. You pursed your lips and decided to just keep sitting down on your rocking chair. 

“Love, why did you call him?” Dick asked, ignoring his brother and looking straight at you.

“The shower broke, your baby wouldn't stop crying, and I’m gross.” You crossed your arms.

“Seem’s to me someone’s slacking on the job…” Your eyes darted to Jason, wide, and ready to scream at him, even if it would make your daughter wake up. “Not you, sweetheart, never you. But your boy here certainly needs to step up.” He side-eyed Dick. It was unfair, Dick basically took over 90% of the baby’s care when he was home, because he was a good father, and he was slightly afraid you would run if given the chance. He even stopped working just to spend more time with you. The only reason he was away for days and didn't take you with him was because of something with the Titans and some guy called Deathstroke. You didn't really care to pay attention to anything he said as long as it didn't involve your life or the world’s safety. 

“You're an asshole, get out of here!” 

Jason smirked. 

“Can’t. Just put a bun in the oven for (Y/N).” He shrugged.

“WHAT?” You and Dick exclaimed at the same time.

“I’m baking some bread, relax…” 

“I need some help…” You were in a clothes store with your husband and his brothers, trying to find a dress for an upcoming gala that you didn't want to go, especially since your body changed during pregnancy, and your previous size isn't fitting the way you wanted to anymore. It’s especially annoying that Dick has to give you permission or order you to wear something, regardless of your opinion.

Before Dick could hand the newborn over to her uncle and get up to help you zip the back of your dress, Tim shot up from his seat.

“I’ll do it.”

Tim stood behind you and clasped the zipper between his fingers, before pulling it up. It went smoothly, until it reached your upper back and it wouldn't go up anymore. You felt embarrassment sink in the bottom of your heart, and before Tim could say something, you turned around.

“It doesn't fit, I should try something else.” You averted your gaze to the floor.

“Nonsense. You look stunning right now, (Y/N). It's just your…” Tim’s gaze flicked to your chest momentarily, before quickly staring at your eyes again. “... New curves. Let me use both hands and I’m sure it will fit.” He smiled at you, soft, reassuring, and trying to convince you really bad.

You let out a huff of breath from your nose, and begrudgingly turned again. Truth to his words, with his other hand gripping the fabric above the zipper, it went up smoothly again.

You pursed your lips, analyzing yourself in the mirror. It was tight, but not uncomfortable, red, and long, with a high slit showing off your thigh. But the cleavelange was a little too much to what you were used to.

“I don't know…”

“Oh, please…” Tim, still standing behind you, placed both hands on either side of your waist and squeezed. You felt momentary shivers run up your spine, and your face warmed from shyness. “You look beautiful. Really.”

“Timmy, back down. The wife is mine.” I’m not an object! Your mind screamed, while you held back the urge to clench your hands and stomp your feet.

“I’m not doing anything.” He shrugged. “If you’re so insecure, that's a ‘you’ problem.” Tim winked at you from the mirror, with a convinced half-smirk. “What do you think, (N/N)? I think he's just jealous that you and the little one like me more…”

“The baby doesn't like you more. She likes anyone who will give her junk food and new toys. You're not special.” Dick retorted, and Tim squeezed your hips. “Now back down before people think you're a couple.”

“Geez…”

Like, comment and reblog 🥰

[laffy-taffy-creations]

Wooooooooo day 29!!!! >:D

This fic was cross-posted on AO3 here

Hot Seat

Scented Candle | Troubled Past Resurfacing | "What happened to me?"

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Words: 1,347

Warnings: trauma block, PTSD, childhood trauma, implied/referenced child abuse, past experimentation, implied kidnapping

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Mmmm, something smells good, whatcha making?” Jirou asked.

“Hm? Oh, just a small dinner for myself.”

She looked over at it. Her brow furrowed in confusion. “I dont think I’ve seen that before,” she commented.

“It’s called eintopf, it’s german! I actually…” I trailed off. I was gonna say something but I couldn’t quite remember.

“You actually…” she encouraged.

“I… I dont know what I was gonna say.” I tried to laugh it off. The nagging feeling something was wrong, that I’d forgotten something was ever present… But what was it?

“Yo, what’s that?” Kaminari asked.

“Ein… In… Vee help me out here…”

I giggled. “Eintopf. I can make you some if you like,” I offered.

“Please do!” he said enthusiastically.

I started up a second serving for him. He watched me make it, being sure to give me adequate space to work but still completely enthralled by it nonetheless.

I started the time for about 15 mins to let it sit on the stove and stepped away, checking the time on mine. Still about 5 minutes left.

“Where’d you learn to make this?” he asked.

“I mean it’s a pretty simple recipe, it’s not like-”

“I mean who taught you, like, who’d you learn the recipe from? There had to have been some way you learned about it cause I dont think I’ve ever seen it before.”

“There was someone who introduced me, his name was C-” I cut myself off. No, that couldn’t be right… who on earth would have the name C-7?

“C?”

“No… it… hang on…” My mind started racing. Who was C-7? That cant have been his name. Why am I getting flashbacks to… to doctors, and needles, and weird names-

“Vee!”

“Huh?” I looked up.

“We asked if you were okay, you started hyperventilating and spacing out…”

“Yeah, I- I dont know what happened, it’s like there’s some sort of… gap in my brain, I cant really-” The buzzer went off for my serving. I took a breath of clarity and put it in my mug.

“...Were you gonna finish that sentence?”

I got a spoon and sat down on the couch in the common room. The scent of strawberries welcomed my nose, Momo was burning another scented candle.

The other two followed me. “OV? Are you alright?”

I took a bite of my eintopf. “Make sure to get your share off the stove in about 9 minutes so it doesn’t burn.”

“That isn’t what we asked OV,” Jirou said sternly.

“I dont care, I… “

“What happened back there?”

“Woah, what’s going on?” Ochako asked, walking into the room.

“OV had some sort of moment in the kitchen and we’re trying to figure out what happened,” Kaminari answered.

“We can show you. OV, who taught you about einto… however you say it again?”

“It’s eintopf, it’s german, and I was taught about it by…” My mind knew the answer but wouldn’t give it to me. “There’s no fucking way that’s what his name was, it was something like…”

The flashes started again. Memories of a spider-like child, some sort of room I was at the center of, the feeling of obligation to something…

“BRAIN FUCKING WORK WITH ME!” I shouted.

The sound of a crash brought me back to reality. I hadn’t realized that more people had gathered around. Just… watching me.

Focus… anything but here… focus on the scent of strawberries, it’ll be fine…

The echoing words of ‘it’ll be fine’ from a voice not of my own clouded my mind. A girl. An older girl. With blue hair. Dark blue hair. And similar eyes.

Something touched my shoulder and I flinched.

“Woah, hey! It’s just me! I’m just… gonna take this so you dont burn yourself…” Sero said.

I nodded. Why is everybody staring at me?

Dont focus on that Clo, focus on the candle… the bright flame… flickering, calm… the sweet smell it’s flooding the room with…

I took a deep breath. “Why are you all staring at me.” It was not a question, because I already knew the answer.

“You know damn fucking well. Care to explain?” Bakugou demanded, receiving a smack on the arm for his rudeness from Kirishima.

“I-I dont know, just stop fucking looking at me! I’m not a show monkey!”

“No, you’re our friend, and we’re worried.” Kirishima said. “If some of us,” he said giving Bakugou a harsh side-eye, “leave the room, would you feel more comfortable talking about it?”

I thought about it for a bit with a few deep breaths then nodded.

About half of them left the room with whispers, leaving only Jirou, Kaminari, Ochako, Todoroki, Kirishima, and Bakugou who refused to leave probably just to spite Kiri.

“Sooo, what happened?”

I took some breaths. “There’s some sort of, gap in my memories? And, I cant shake the feeling something’s missing… When you asked where I learned the recipe…” I started.

All 6 of them were looking at me intently.

“I-I’m sorry I’m gonna need more of you to leave!” I ended up saying.

Kirishima sighed, and got up while Bakugou smirked. Whatever sort of battle they were having, Bakugou clearly won.

Jirou left as well, and so did Todoroki.

Which left Kaminari, Ochako, and Bakugou. An odd assortment to be sure, but a small enough group that I could feel my anxiety lifting off me bit by bit.

“Okay, so where you learned the recipe…?” Ocha offered.

I nodded. “Yeah, so, when you asked where, I got some sort of a flashback to… a place, I dont know where, just…” I took another breath and focused back on the candle. Just pretend you’re talking to the candle. There’s nobody else listening, just the candle… such a pretty, calming flame…

“The person that taught me how to make eintopf was… some person, I dont remember exactly what his name was, but for some reason he’s in my mind as ‘C-7’,” I told the candle. “When I tried to figure it out again, I got flashes of… doctors, and needles, and these people that I feel like I should know but I just, dont.” I took in another breath.

“There was… a girl, a some years older than me, reassuring me… she had, dark blue hair, and really dark blue eyes… and a nose piercing…”

Ochako’s brow furrowed. “What was her name? Do you… remember?”

“Uhh, yeah. It was Relena… But her other name was… MEQAT9?” The memories started up again.

“She called me… 3 for some reason…”

“OV, I dont know how to tell you this but uhm…” Kaminari started.

I looked up at them. Somehow all 3 of them, -Bakugou included- had a concerned look on their face.

“W-what?” I asked.

“That was-”

“You’re talking about Himokya Relena, and she went missing like 7 years ago,” Bakugou cut in.

“Huh?”

“Yeah, it was a really big thing a while ago, everyone knows about her… Didnt you say you were a foreigner?” Kaminari asked.

“Uh, yeah, I-” my mind flooded again. I dont know what with. Emptiness I suppose, what should be there but isnt. Someone reached out and grabbed my hand. Ochako. I took a deep breath and focused on what I knew. “I’m European-American, I was with my parents up until like… 9 I think?” I guessed. “I… dont know much after that… I know that I’m self-sufficient, there’s some sort of obligation I have to fill but cant… there’s… I dont…”

I started hyperventilating again as I felt tears running down my face.

“Wh-hat ha-appened to me-e?” I asked through broken sobs.

Ocha reached up and wrapped me in a hug. “Shh, shh, it’s alright, we’ll figure this out, dont worry, we’re here for you, okay? We’ll help you through this, just breathe for now, alright? We’ve got you, let it out…”

I dont think I ever managed to fully tell any of them how much that meant. Not when I remembered just who did this and what exactly happened during my time as MEQAT3.

I was going to kill the hero responsible for all this.

[kalims]

⭒ㅤwith a disney princess

premise. surely there's been a mistake, cause there's no way someone out of place like you ended up at nrc, right? (spoiler alert: months later and they will fight whoever might drag you to rsa)

featuring. dorm leaders (from diasomnia to heartslabyul)

content. at best this might imply a female reader, given they're based of a 'princess' but I tried to take the gender vague and focused mainly on the qualities of them! mc has hair in the rapunzel part lol

note. no beta we die lol. I worked on this by group so i honestly don't remember if I accidentally gendered mc. I absolutely love idias part lmaoooo

malleus (aurora)

ooh intimidating x soft couple.

you look way out of place in somewhere like nrc of all places, given your mother is the infamous sleeping beauty (infamous, in the college’s standards that is.) your kindness is easily taken advantage of, even if you do realize it there is always forgiveness spared for the undeserving.

said kindness was extended to the quiet malleus.

surprise no surprise. he’s impeccably drawn to the sparkling aura you seem to exclude. malleus feels as though there are traces of familiar magic always hovering around you, like its embowed into your very being. a blessing would be a better word for it.

well, he’s just curious but if he were to ever ask he’d be met with the confirmation that you were, indeed blessed by the same three fairies your mother was blessed by (minus the curse… ironically he’s quite similar to the same lady that your mother loved and looked up to.)

he’s just fascinated. something as glittery as you, shiny like gold would’ve been whisked away to his nice tower, homey. he’d tell you. almost as if making its image seem heavenly. (lowkey highkey getting your consent for kidnapping)

animals always seem to flock around you everywhere you go, they sneak around to reach you. in your dorm, during lunch, even in class. there’s either a bird on your shoulder or a squirrel making itself comfortable atop your head. its a curious sight, critters don’t really like him much.

in short they run away, humans or animals alike are both afraid of his presence it seems.

so he’s incredibly still when you nudge an adorably round bird in his palm, peering at it with cautious eyes. tense as a statue lest it flies away.

cue staring contest.

he felt incredibly accomplished that day, and immersed him in the role of making this creature like him. leaving seeds, offering it the most sought off food from the valley, literally conjuring a small home for it. everything.

HE’S SO HAPPY.

malleus often asks of you to sing, perhaps its the blessing talking but its the most unique form of sound he’d ever heard in his life, the more he sings the more he wants to imbue his very being with the loveliness of your song.

always following you around like a lost puppy (lizard?) any evil that actually wants to take advantage of your unfortunate naive desire for peace and kindness is scared away. although malleus would never want your interactions to be reduced entirely because of him, he only starts looking like a demon one he figures out their motive is less than fitting for you.

“yeah, the ingredients were to complicated for me to remember—”

“oh! perhaps i can help you?”

spots the demon behind you (just your lovely giant staring them to their grave.)

“you know what i actually got it— sorry for wasting your time.” you watch them, confused as they dip.

you look to him, as though to ask what just happened but he merely casts you an oblivious glance and shrugs.

favorite past time → coddling you in his dragon form.

he was doubtful whether he should pull through in actually showing it to you, since you were already such an angel towards him. would it be a stretch if he let a selfish desire get in the way? perhaps you’d get scared if you see how large he is there—or if he’s—

idia (rapunzel)

okay that amazed smile on you was totally worth it.

wow your hair is fire.

he should have never made a comment about it in the first place because now you’re completely confused about his reference, were you living in like… in isolation? a cave? you’re a little less worse than the scarabia’s dorm leader when it comes to being oblivious.

just two idiots miscommunicating, he atleast is trying to make an effort to explain that he doesn’t mean it literally but his wording is so bad that you get absolutely nothing from what he is trying to infer.

okay your hair though.

“why is that person stuck in that square!?”

good thing ortho was near cause you almost charged towards a television and judging by the, pan!? in your grip you definitely would have smashed the screen trying to be righteous and rescue the character.

okay then. 1. don’t let you near electronics, specifically when its playing something.

you are a literal danger to his society. shivers

you’re always asking something like “what are those glowing balls on the ceiling?” those are lights… “why is that thing speaking?!” that’s a speaker… “why is it on fire?” oh that’s his hair, he doesn’t really know either it was just like that.

it does feel a little nice to get asked like that and he’d know the answer (its literally the most common knowledge ever but whtv)

EPIC! idia is now trying to figure out how resistant your hair is. its literally like, the most OP shield there is!

at first he had some reservations. like, used a knife once and was flabbergasted when it came back in half. your hair didn’t even move an inch. then he got motivated and tried a sharper sword, longer, and larger of course. he let ortho handle it cause he probably would have stabbed himself.

“wtf.”

flinches cause the half of the sharp end came completely off and stabbed right beside his head onto the wall.

what are the limits of it?! had some doubts before using one of the tech he came up with, it could literally cut through a diamond and he isn’t sure if its entirely safe but you’re all for it cause you were always curious whether your hair could even get cut in the first place.

anyway you’re way too happy to be near a lazer that could obliterate you and its kinda infecting him. yikes.

less than happy cause the lazer literally got reflected by your hair and hit itself so it’s just gone.

on the bright side he can use you as a scapegoat (in a good way)

alright. 2. don’t enrage you unless he wants to experience getting hit by a pan really hard.

wow. he felt that for days.

maybe its the hit or he’s just feeling a little woozy whenever you’re around.

definitely the pan.

vil (mulan)

bold x shy couple

pretty x pretty defender

he’s used to people heeding his suggestions but damn, are you a stubborn one.

not only have you not listened to his propositions for becoming a more refined person (cause the way you held yourself was too.. much for him to ignore, and it bothered him for a long time until he decided to help you.) but he can respect you, he supposes. not a lot of people can stay true to themselves.

it seems like epel, the boy himself has taking a liking to you. no wonder he’s been becoming more rebellious lately.

vil would never stoop so low to purposely direct someone advice that would change their entire self, decimate their unique traits. but all he told you was out of the goodness of his heart, if you’d be less clumsy of your ways your reputation would be better for the long run.

not being respected amongst nrc is never a good thing.

still, you’re still headstrong. never too overconfident, nor cocky. just a humble soul, that’s rare so he tends to stick by you if he ever wanted an honest opinion cause people just tell him what he wants to nowadays. vil never enjoyed the biased remarks.

more often than not he enjoys making your already pretty face, prettier than it is.

finds out you’re no bark and all bite, he never even knew you could take down someone who has an advantage over you in physical terms. come on, its savanaclaw. apparently the guy had spared him an unsavory comment and (apparently, in your defense. only told him a few words, got attacked so it was self defense.)

it came a surprise to him. seeing as you’re generally relaxed in nature, your military prowess a mystery to most since you seemed content with resorting matters with peace. though you seem to lack more restraint when it comes to your close relationships.

vil scolding you in the infirmary (you don’t have a scratch, and the guy whose pride you handed back to is in some corner lamenting cause he can hear you guys.) and you just taking it.

contrary to how you first treated to each other. you seem to be more prone to his opinions, or suggestions the more you progress with each other. he admits maybe he was too outright in his manner of speaking the first time, but it only highlights the change you’d gone through with each other.

you’re the perfect doll, in a way. not in a demeaning way or anything but its so satisfying to him to use products on your face just for the sole reason that you sit so still. his absolute favorite past time is skin care together even if you mostly just follow his lead.

you and epel must be kindred spirits, once he was on his way to retire to the indoors of pomefiore. seeing as it started raining, heavy so it meant it would stay for a while. and then paused when he spotted you both sharing words.

and planting apple seeds in the rain? both of you are stained with the rain, some dirt and mud alike. and vil had never looked so mortified. so just cause you don’t protest when he cares for you doesn’t mean you’re bothered by getting dirty he guesses.

“you both… clean yourselves up, i’ll brew medicine lest you fall under the weather.” ← disappointed sigh.

kalim (jasmine)

ended up waiting for you both to finish under the covers and ushered you both to baths.

you have a tiger!

just living char x their absolute biggest stan

wow you have a tiger.

did he mention you have a tiger?

majority of nrc knows not to mess with you haha, if it’s not obvious already with the seemingly lax tiger that behaves like some sort of overgrown cat following you around and growls at someone when you aren’t looking.

then you always raise a brow at the people who tell you otherwise. “bab doesn’t bite.”

kalim is lowkey highkey their biggest fan, i mean. jamil is having the worst year of his life dragging kalim away wherever you seem to be because the first apparent instinct of the boy is to try to pet the tiger cause it’s ‘cute’.

at some point jamil had to investigate your routine throughout the day, what you do, where you go at specific times like after classes conclude to make sure kalim doesn’t cross path with you.

well, not necessarily you but rather your… tiger. which is hard, honestly. you seem to visit scarabia a lot for a reason unknown. jamil would be suspicious you’d be planning something but all you really do is stay out on the balcony with your companion.

but alas, fate would have it otherwise.

“hi,” kalim blurts before he could remember his friend’s warning. you turn, along with your… also friend who watches him closely. you blurt out a greeting back, seeing as it’s courtesy, you seem to be amused at his fascinated eyes staring at your tiger.

“want a pet?” you offer, bab making sounds of protest.

jamil almost had a heart attack seeing the two of you attached by the hip, only calming down a few weeks later. seeing as your companion wouldn’t pose as much danger as he assumed, seeing as the tiger’s protectiveness started extending to the ray of sunshine.

rich couple ig. everyone overhears your conversations and doubles over. “i had a small statue of gold made for bab, for you.” and then a; “oh, thanks. but we already have a lot at home. hmm…”

actually it’s not really the manner of being attached, more like two following you. kalim, and then your cutie pie tiger.

your reserved nature in particular greatly contrasts kalim, yapper x listener i guess. although the object of his interest was initially because of bab, he might as well be another overgrown cat of yours cause he seems to love touch.

its concerning cause bab themselves felt challenged for your affection and when they spotted kalim’s head nestled on your lap they ‘accidentally’ kick him off.

in a way you seemed untouchable, pet included. you don’t seem to mind kalim much, people might even go as far as to say you enjoy his company. occasionally the vice of his dorm as well, the three of you have this sort of aura that screams ‘don’t approach’

said aura is in the form of a very big cat.

azul (ariel)

one time you admitted to having not much friends and three heads turned towards you. face twisted incredulously.

he doesn’t know why but you looked like you went through ten stages of grief (3 more cause the 7 definitely wasn’t enough.) when you took a glance at him, during the time you were looking around, you almost went past him, actually. but then doubled back immediately.

that’s concerning.

morally suspicious (devil in disguise) x angel

azul often asks your opinions out of habit, he himself isn’t even sure when it started but he considers you a factor in decisions. though he does prefer to keep you out certain… endeavors of his away entirely, no need to concern your innocence in his doings.

as such he often uses the twins to steer you away from trouble cause you seem to have no sense for it whatsoever, whenever there’s a fight brewing instead of walking off you stride closer. curious to whatever was happening.

and, you believe too easily apparently.

jade had held you by your shoulders and directed you away from the fight before the dispute reached you and inevitably dragged you in. “why are they fighting?”

he replied. “ah, well. they inhaled an unpleasant shroom and got affected.” your mortified face spoke you believed him. human culture! you thought.

your brain should be inspected honestly. floyd told him all about the pile of stuff you had “found” in your dorm, ranging from innocent collectibles to items that brought the question of whether or not they were really yours but you didn’t really claim otherwise, just that you found em’ so no more questioning.

azul doesn’t even wanna know why you started staring at mushrooms like they were a mortal enemy of all living forms. speaking of, the three of them didn’t even consider that you could be from the sea as well. seeing as, well. you have two feet, even if they have the same.

besides the fact you’re too clumsy for your own good you sure had no fear when you leapt overboard during a field trip cause a trinket that caught your eye fell and gave the entirety of the attendants a heart attack. floyd had patted him on the back and wishes him condolences.

also the shock of the century when you emerged, pretty tail and all. holding it the trinket up like you just found it the most fascinating thing on the globe.

since then underwater dates were a thing. which took a lot of prompting honestly, you didn’t know he was a merman either, curiously asking him what kind he was. in nature, you were persistent. like a need to sate your questions so he eventually relented.

even then, it took a while before he let you see the form. ← to his fluster you seemed engrossed in this form of his. swimming around him and asking questions.

now azul also have a small pile of items hidden in a box beneath his bed, all from you. which, upon being opened would be mistaken for unused items since its literally random stuff, and a concerning favor towards forks.

oh yeah. sometimes the tweels crash your date.

you could be in his office, going about your business. chilling on his couch and playing with one of your treasures and be completely unaware of the ominous discussion ongoing within the three about anemones? contracts?

“what are you guys talking about?”

“hairstyles for azul.”

“what—”

“ooh. i can brush his hair so you can style it!” pulls out a fork.

leona (belle)

“oh my sevens, WAIT—”

i was having a crisis trying to think of a dynamic so why not just, beauty x beast.

leona is less than pleased to admit he doesn’t like you much. or atleast, he used to. it was clear his feelings of you was reciprocated, based on the uninterested side glances you cast him. your type, well liked, pristine, proper, and informed reminds him all to well of what mold he was forced into. though it never really fit.

you on the other hand, just dislike him in general. more pointedly as to how he acted, too self righteous in your opinion. he sure spends a lot of time moping about how he could have been king when he’s acting like he’d be a terrible one. you’d say it to his face but even you aren’t too crude.

if you’re both looking at the bright side though, you’d probably prefer each other’s company above others. you’re quiet, perfect for napping around. he’s surprisingly true to himself, his morals aren’t too bad either.

as such, to your disdain he now naps in the library. which you had titled your own space, but he didn’t really just care.

relatively you’re a lot more cool headed than he is, you told him concerns about his laziness which he weaved through. after opening up with each other… well you know how it goes.

okay, fine. you no longer berate leona for napping at the public space, quickly shut up when he threatened you. “i’m gonna tell you the real reason ‘m here nowadays if you don’t calm down. and it ain’t the peace i’m here for.” he eyes you, and you shut up after that.

leona doesn’t know if he should be amused or annoyed at the fact that you stand up to whatever he says. ‘that’s rude,’ this. ‘are you out of your mind?’ that. at some point where he doesn’t wanna admit, leona had disliked seeing you upset (particularly towards him) that he started listening.

at others is a different story though. he will gladly watch you shut down someone else.

sometimes he makes weird remarks, like. “throw an egg at them, who knows might hatch into a chick and give them the company they’ve been lacking.” ← just bullies random people while you defend them. “what? don’t be stupid, eggs that are sold don’t hatch into chicks.”

you often lament in his arms, regretting ever coming near his sleeping frame cause next thing you know you’re subjected to prison, and you had accidentally dropped the book you were reading so even if you try to reach for it he’s pulling you back.

will reach for it if you ask tho lol.

just one look from you has him suddenly behaved tbh.

bothers your productive time by crashing it with his opposite word of productive idk im to lazy to check. more often than not tramples over your things, but always looks dead to life when you end up scolding him heavily.

also kicks out the animals that gravitate towards you for some reason, got jealous of a bird nestled in your hair once cause apparently you paid too much attention to it.

apparently told ruggie to fetch books for you when you’re running out, at that point you might actually milk the nrc library with how fast you burn through them.

“you’re not even from here, what do—”

“actually. originally from times before, they—”

riddle (cinderella)

got lectured about history, eugh.

easy to fluster x enthusiastic and sweet

how are you so nice.

you’ve got most of the population of nrc enamored with your natural charm alone, though some do tend to mock you. unfortunately they aren’t wrong, you really do fit in more at a different school like rsa with your personality.

i mean you fit the bill, kind, pretty, talks to animals.

good for you though. cause riddle would prefer a behaved student than a troublesome one anyway so he would definitely dig you lmao.

speaking of. he definitely goes to you whenever the hedgehogs are lost in the maze, or the flamingos just don't wanna step out the farther spot from the pond, somehow they love you in whatever you do.

as in, you spoke to the hedgehogs with a lower tone. almost like a coo, and he almost tells you to stop because that's the universal worse tone to talk to hedgehogs until... it nuzzles into you?!

flabbergasted, he can only watch.

sevens... you're just so pleasant to be around he could die.

at some point it felt like you were the epitome of being kind. riddle understand that the virtue was just embedded into you, letting others berate you for whatever... he even thought you were too kind for a place like nrc where the complete opposite traits are admired.

you are, but only to those who deserve it. riddle had the pleasure to spot you nitpicking a crude student and they looked like they were gonna burst into tears.

so... you knew what to say almost always. when troubled, he'd learn that it's best to talk to you cause you'd know what to say to ease his worries, when you're treated wrongly? sevens.. you also know what to say.

but, in a putting whoever in their place way?

(idk man I'm just rambling at this point lmao idk how to write a cinderella reader.)

riddle has grown accustomed to random critters breaking in the door. well, he was used to animals in the first place. or atleast thought he was when he opened a door in the dorm and almost yelled at the sight of a group of mice looking like they were having conspiracies.

a few weeks after that he knocked on doors before opening them.

was also very disturbed when you announced they were your friends.

I don't know. I feel like he'd lowkey be the type to write your name in a heart on the back of his notebook and straighten his face like: 'what in the world am I doing' but not erasing it anyways.

over time, your little 'friends' got used to him, and vice versa. at the very least he isn't screaming at their sudden visits, be it flying through the window or just popping out of something they climbed on.

who's screaming though are his dorm members, and he's found humors in the encounters.

"ah, thank you, myrcella." he nods gingerly, toward the very tiny white mice who seems to twirl around, touched by the thanks. the little thing was nice enough to carry the pen he'd been using to scribble down the main definitions he'd been copying from the textbook.

in the middle of reaching for a glass of water the door opens, riddle watches one of his residents striding in rambling. probably about to be exposed to the sight of a group of mice sleeping on top of each other atop a cushion he'd personally placed for them.

and maybe the birds. whom seemed comfortable by his small collection of plants.

"dorm leader, octavinelle stude—GAHHHH—"

[rosewriteswhump]

Mistake ch 4

Cw: past abuse, past kidnapping, panic attack mention, crying, repressing emotions, self deprecation, let me know if i missed anything and i'll fix it asap!

Marlie stared at the blank notebook in front of her. Any words she could have used to describe her feelings turned static as she tried to write. The only thing in her head was an image. The young fairy's hand shook as the pen scratched the paper, lines going from light to dark and thick as some nearly tore the paper. When she finished, Marlie had drawn several exact figures, whispering some phrases and screaming others. Marlie had drawn a tiny fairy in the middle, crushed under the weight of the human's cruel words. Her body finally relaxed as she set her pen down. She stretched back, bones popping. Marlie stood from her desk, leaving her room.

Harley looked up from their crossbow, setting the tools down, and smiled gently. "Hey, want to watch a movie?" They asked.

Marlie was startled, surprised Harley had stayed home. "Um, sure. I thought you went with the guys and Dawn." She anxiously sat on the couch, bringing her knees to her chest.

"Dawn went with them because they are reckless, and she needed to get you something. When- um, you ran from Alice, did anything happen?" Harley had always been good at reading people, and it was a good skill for finding peaceful solutions or firing a warning shot.

Marlie stiffened, anxiously picking at her nails as she averted her eyes. "Yeah, something did. I-I was caught in a hunting trap; I was so sc-scared. I still feel bad about it. I know it's not my fault, but maybe if I was n-nicer and just could do what she asked-- maybe, sh-she wouldn't have been so mean."

Harley sighed, gently ruffling the fairy's hair. "You know it wasn't your fault, right? Was it one of those nets humans use for turkeys?" They had given Marlie their full attention, expecting her to brush everything off.

"That's what it was. Cedar got me out before the humans came back. You all keep saying that, but I can't believe it. Can we start with dinner? I feel the Bear and Cedar will be really hungry when they get back." Marlie smiled- it looked genuine- the only exception being the nothingness reflected in her once bright eyes.

Dawn poured over her healing spells, quietly reciting incantations and taking notes on spells on which she needed practice. The door to her room was open, allowing the voices of her friends to reach her. A sudden knock brought her out of her books, and she turned around from her desk.

Cedar was standing in the door frame, eyebrows furrowed slightly in worry. He waited until Dawn said he could come in before shutting the door behind him. "Okay, so ya know Marlie's been doing pretty good, right? Well, she's bottling things up again- I think. She flinched when Bear dropped a plate, and it shattered. Mar squeaked and looked like she was gonna break down. Harley had me help Bear while they took Mar outside to get some air." Cedar ran a hand through his short, fluffy black hair and green eyes, and he continued after a few moments of silence. "Mar came in first, kinda frustrated like she got before Alice happened, like when she didn't want to talk. Um, Harley stormed in a few minutes later, cursing that human, and they looked pissed. Mar ran off to her room and locked the door, but there was no light in her eyes. She doesn't even look alive! Check on her cos if Harley is worried, it might be bad." He sat on Dawn's bed, looking down at his hands as he folded them in his lap. "I know how bad humans can be. I don't want her to end up like any other victims."

Dawn gently closed her book, listening to the whole story and worry growing the more Cedar rambled. "Cedar, I know you've been hurt, and Mar is open to you about the torture because you understand it. I know this whole thing is triggering for you. Thank you for telling me and being so attentive to Marlie. I can talk to her later tonight. Do you need a hug?" the healer asked, sitting next to her friend and opening her arms. Cedar nodded, leaning forwards and ducking his head into her shoulder. He took some deep shuddering breaths, willing himself not to cry. "It's okay to cry. I won't judge you or tell anyone if you'd like." Dawn tilted her head to kiss the man's head, red braids shifting slightly, and her glasses slipped down her nose.

The combat fairy cried, his tears soaking his young friend's shoulder, and he clung to the back of her shirt. "I-I just want her to be okay. I don't want to see my path of suffering repeated. It hurt so much to bottle everything up." Cedar listened to Dawn's humming; the melody was comforting and helped him relax as he slowly pulled away. "Thanks, I'll be okay. Check on Marlie, I know you will but, I'm worried and don't want to intrude."

Dawn offered a warm smile, her turquoise eyes filled with kindness and care. "She trusts you not to hurt her. I can't say for sure when she will feel safe with all of us again, but it will happen. If you're worried why don't you go foraging with her tomorrow? Both of you could use the fresh air." She left her room, knocking gently on the door across the hall.

Marlie opened the door, blank exhaustion on her face. "Dawn?" Said fairy nodded, unsure of what to say. "You can come in…I, um," The pale, freckled face looked up at Dawn, eyes watering. "Can we talk?" Marlie whispered, closing the door behind her sister. She sat on her bed, relaxing, when Dawn wrapped a weighted blanket around her.

"Of course. Whenever you're ready to talk, I'll listen. Do you want a hug?" Dawn was next to her, a warm glow emitting from her wings as the sun finished setting.

Marlie took a deep breath, swallowing the lump in her throat before speaking. "I-I was just so stuck in my head, and all I can do is think of Alice's rules and the punishment for breaking them. I-it hurts cos I know you aren't like that, and no one here is. B-but I can't stop expecting it." the head of rusty hair curled closer to Dawn, a gentle embrace keeping her safe. "I hate being so scared all the time and that I only know how to repress it." Marlie shuddered briefly, breath trembling as she tried not to cry. "Dawn? Why am I so stupid and weak?"

Dawn frowned, slowly brushing some of the long hair away from Marlie's face. "You've been through hell, Alice added to your struggles." Words have weight -they always have-but when the cruelty is the heaviest; almost nothing makes it through the first few times. "I know you didn't have good teachers either. It's gonna take a long time, and we will all be here while you unlearn this. You aren't stupid or weak. I promise, sweetie."

Taglist: @nullb1rdbones

as usual ask box is open for any questions you have for me or my ocs!

[pinkseas]

my dealer: got some straight gas, this strain is called "sovereign of elegance" you'll be zonked out of your gourd

me: yeah whatever. i dont feel shit.

15 minutes later

me: the previous sovereign of elegance, glorier, had fiery red hair and won her title while wearing a black gown. she vanished 15 years ago, her last known location in the wishing woods. the same time frame that the other missing stylists were kidnapped by the paladins and locked up underground in the wishing woods. in the diary pages of an unknown stylist, the writer refers to the wish master as nothing more than a "puppet" of the dark, and remarks that they've been cruelly experimented on, their body tortured. "even bathing in this moonlight is a rare luxury." the banshee is only ever out at night, under the moonlight, but nobody save for you has actually encountered her clearly. those who might recognize her as glorier haven't ever seen the banshee themselves. the banshee refers to those she enthralls as her puppets, and there are multiple places where her body looks cracked and damaged, more like a porcelain doll than human skin. that same diary remarks that the writer has a daughter waiting at home, and that "even in this dire situation, i will never submit. the unyielding elegance within my resolute and noble soul is my last ace." a torn note found in the room where the humans were imprisoned states that the strongest were tortured and perished or disappeared, expressing a want to go home, written in a very similar manner to the way the banshee herself speaks at the end of your duel with her. if you fail, the banshee tells you to become her puppet and suffer alongside her. an imperfect victory mentions that memories are not enough. a brilliant stylist is rumored to have opened a realm that no one else has entered before, and some say that the most exceptional stylists might even create their own personal realms. cantore's poem states that should one be a fool, their soul will fall into "that bewildering realm" to become another puppet, ensnared for all eternity. "the bitter end awaits with no return, leading you into the heart of the night's abyss, where even the stars fade away." underground, those imprisoned stylists couldn't even see the stars. the reason they were locked up was to attempt to recreate the power of the aureum vase for chigda, who had made a deal with The Dark for eternal life. from him the power of the mutated vines returned, but he was not their original source, nor did they vanish when he was defeated without need for giroda's sacred power. those mutated vines bear great resemblance to the vines, thorns, and roses surrounding the banshee within the visuals of cantore's poem. the banshee wants her puppets to suffer with her, implying that she herself is already suffering. is she, too, a puppet of the dark? back then, could creating a realm have allowed her to escape? did something go wrong? did she, like giovanni, attempt to make a deal with the paladins or chigda, only for it to backfire? did she attempt to defeat chigda herself, only to become corrupt by the vines? if she was captured and held in the wishing woods and hails from florawish, why is it that the banshee now haunts the breezy meadow and shimmer pond specifically? igrainne forbade nonoy from investigating more about her past. the banshee chants a bewildering melody, not dissimilar to that melody of the wishing one from nonoy's music box, the one left with her by her birth mother. how much does igrainne know? was she worried for nonoy solely because of the nature of glorier's disappearance, or is there more to it? could the direct power of the wishful aurosa be enough to save the banshee? how much of her past life does the banshee remember? what am i missing?

my friend nikki pacing: how do i tell nonoy i need to fuck her mom

[mimikittysblog]

The Princess

Pairing: Mafia! Husbands! Poly! Ateez x Fem! Wife! Reader

Genre: Angst, a good chunck of fluff, a HINT of smut (no actual sex scenes of the sorts but they’re quite sexual towards each other)

Synopsis: If ATZ were asked what their prized possession is, they wouldn’t say what you think. It isn’t the money, the cars, the jewels, the priceless paintings or anything of the sorts. As cheesy and unexpected as it sounds, they would answer each other. Now while on surface that is true, the reality of it is their most prized possession, their true treasure, the one they don’t even dare let people know they have in true fear of it getting taken away, is you. Their Princess. So what would happen when one night, you don’t come home?

Warnings: Kidnapping, major violence, implied sexual activity, death/murder (not of the major characters), alcohol consumption, Arson, MxM of course. So because of all of this please ⚠️MNDI⚠️ if I missed anything please let me know!

Word count: 5.3k words

A/N: It’s finally here!!! My goodness you guys loved that teaser 😭 I’m so grateful for all your enthusiasm! I hope this fic lives up to your expectations!! Happy reading!! Please tell me what you think! Likes, replies and reblogs are so appreciated!

.✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧.

On one side of the outskirts of town, there is this mansion belonging to a very interesting group of people. As of this moment throughout the gargantuan mansion, the sounds of fast paced footsteps can be heard. While loud or fast paced footsteps like these weren’t necessarily uncommon.

However somehow everyone who heard them deep down knew, something was wrong.

Suddenly said footsteps came to a stop as the sound of the door to the meeting room was opened.

Then the dreaded question was asked.

“My loves, have any of you seen or heard from Princess?”

Silence.

Just like that it became nothing but silence as all discussions of work seems to halt after hearing Yeosangs question.

“Is.. she not home yet?” Seonghwa asked softly.

“Well.. I can’t find her anywhere and she’s not answering her phone…”

“What?!” Wooyoung exclaimed as he quickly pulled out his phone and called her number.

Yunho took a glance to the clock on the wall and saw how late it was.

“It’s past her curfew. She knows she’s supposed to be home by now.”

“Forget that! She knows to always answer us. And she’s literally not answering us!” Wooyoung groans after the call goes unanswered.

“She’s just supposed to go shopping again!” Jongho exclaims.

The rest of the men in the room were silent. Frozen in fear and contemplation of what happened to you and where could you possibly be.

Suddenly they hear the front door open.

Believing its you, they wasted no time and quickly rushed down. However what they find are only your body guards, bloodied and bruised.

You?

Nowhere in sight.

At the sight of their bosses, your guards quickly got on their hands and knees. A position that screams begging for forgiveness.

“S-sirs! We’re sorry! So terribly sorry!! One second we were watching over her then the next we go-“

BANG

Hongjoong had no need for useless explanations or excuses.

His Princess was taken.

All he needs now is her back.

Mingi takes the gun from Hongjoongs hand and steps forward.

He kneels in front of one of the other guards and grabs him by the hair, positioning the gun under his chin.

“Where?”

“D-downtown! The alley near her favorite Chanel store!”

BANG

Jongho then takes the gun and aims it at the last guard.

“SIR! Please no forgive me!! I will find her! I will-“

BANG

Protecting you and making sure you come home safe was these guards only job. And yet they have failed.

Now they’ve lost you and to them there is no greater sin.

As Yunho is cleaning the blood off of Mingi’s face, Seonghwa turns to the maids and the henchmen stationed in the room. Clearly terrified as they’ve never seen their bosses so angry.

“Clean this up. We want this place spotless. Not a single trace of these sinners left behind. And get everyone to work. Find her. Check every corner. Turn every stone. Use any informant we have. Use any methods you can think of. Do what you must! And Find. Her. Now.”

With that they scrambled and quickly got to work.

Your husbands then left the room. Rage and determination emanating from their very being.

They will find you.

And those that took you will pay.

.✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧.

At another mansion on the other side of town, much smaller than the one he calls home, San is residing. He's currently on an undercover mission to get information they need to get rid of this nuisance of a mafia.

This other group wasn’t really a threat. No one was. However they’ve been getting on their nerves for far too long. So they intended to just wipe them out for their own comfort. Silently, quickly and deadly. Like they always do. Furthermore it’ll maybe also send a message to other groups to not pull the same stunts.

So once they got wind of how the head of the mafia likes collecting and having ‘toys' around no matter the gender they knew one of them had to play the part.

After careful consideration and discussion they agreed upon San.

No one was entirely happy with the idea. They hated the thought that San had to flaunt what was theirs and let another man touch him, possibly even kiss him.

However they knew their options to make this quick were very limited.

They all drew the line that San cannot sleep with him though. Not like San ever wanted to anyway. He would rather die before betraying his loves like that.

Thankfully San knew how to play his part well, where he was fun enough to keep around even if he had yet to sleep with the man. Plus he's too pretty of an eye candy to be let go anyway.

However he still needed to get this information quick, cause he knew he couldn't play celibate forever. The man will eventually want to force him to sleep with him.

So he needed to get out of there before that happens.

Currently San is in the living room in nothing but a fur coat and his boxers, as how the man requests all his toys to dress, with said man and the rest of his toys.

He's just drinking his whiskey as the man plays, wishing he was back home.

When suddenly the door was slammed opened and a girl was thrown to the ground.

"Sir, we've retrieved what you've asked for!"

One of the henchmen announced loudly.

San acted uninterested and nonchalant as he usually does until he glanced at and unfortunately recognized the poor girl on the ground.

..Princess..?

Why were you here??

How were you here???

You’re supposed to be safe at home with the rest!

“Ah yes. So this is ATZ’s precious treasure.” The man said with a shit eating grin causing the diamonds in his teeth to shine in the light.

He then got up and made his way to kneel in front of you. The man then grabbed your chin to make you look at him.

San almost lost it.

How dare his filthy hands touch his Princess?! So roughly at that.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Let go of me you piece of shit.” You growled at him.

“Ah ah.. is this the way you talk to the only one that can spare yo- UGH! Fucking bitch!”

Before he even finished his sentence you spat straight into his face.

In retaliation he gave you a hard slap, knocking you down.

There your eyes met San.

While to an outsider San seemed unbothered, you knew your husband. He was beyond mad. So mad that the devil himself wouldn’t dream of messing with him.

You, of course, knew of his mission. So you understood why he had to just sit there and act like he didn’t know you.

You weren’t even upset.

You missed him too much. It was such a sight to see him again.

Especially in the outfit he’s in.

So you only give him the tiniest comforting smile. Letting him know that you’re okay.

“Lock her up. ATZ will come and find her soon. They’ll make the deal to get her back. And soon I’ll be the most powerful.”

As you were being dragged away, your eyes only lingered on San.

San could only take another sip of his whiskey, with only one thought in his head.

Oh how wrong this man was.

.✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧.

“What do you mean you have no leads?!?” Mingi barked at the henchmen who gave him the update. Or lack there of.

“I’m sorry sir.. we’re still look-“

CRACK

“We don’t need your useless apologies. Get out there and FIND OUR WIFE. NOW!” Mingi didn’t even let him finish before hurling a heavy desk ornament straight towards his head and yelling at him again.

Bleeding from the head but grateful it wasn’t from a bullet hole, the henchmen hurriedly staggered over to give Mingi, Yeosang, and Wooyoung each a kiss on their rings that dawn their middle finger. Once the obligatory task of showing respect was done he left the room to continue searching for the lady of the household.

The room fell silent again as Mingi walks over to the big portrait of his husbands and you right in the middle. Smiling so wide and beautifully. He’d do anything to make sure that smile stays forever on your face and for him to always see it.

All of them would.

You’ve only been missing for less than 24 hours yet that’s longer than any of you have been apart these past few years without reason. Along with the fact that they knew you were taken forcibly, unease would be an understatement to describe what Mingi and the rest of them are feeling.

Then after a sigh, Wooyoung reached over and rung a bell that was on the desk. Which caused a maid with a tray of glasses and Wooyoung’s favorite bottle of liquor to enter.

Wooyoung took the bottle, disregarding the glasses and took a swig.

“Have we heard back from San? He needs to come home now. I already hated that he had to do this. Now with Princess gone, I need to know that he’s safe too. And I’m sure he’d also want to find her.” Wooyoung rambled, jittery due to the present status of his lovers are up in the air.

“We just sent the message to him. He’ll respond soon.” Yeosang sighed, trying to reassure him by also softly grabbing his hand. However he also then poured himself some of the liquor and took a sip.

Suddenly a rushed knock on the door was heard.

“Come in!” Mingi yelled.

“Sirs! A message from Sir San!” A different henchmen hurriedly walked in and dropped a small note on the table.

“Good. Now leave.” Wooyoung said.

The henchmen nodded, also kissing the rings on their fingers before leaving.

Yeosang then took the note. It was only two words but it caused him to jump up from his seat. He bellowed for whoever was nearby to come in.

“Get Captain! We need to leave now!!” He ordered firmly.

“What?! What did he say?!” Wooyoung asked also jumping up.

‘Causing Mingi to also step forward curiously.

Yeosang merely had to show them the note for them to understand.

‘She’s here.’

.✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧.

Locked away in a small and quite frankly ugly room is currently where you are. Truth be told?

You’re just bored.

You wanted to go home.

Thats all.

You knew the second you were taken your husbands will bring upon hell on earth. So you’re just waiting for that to happen.

You’re not sure how they were able to figure out you were their wife in the first place though. Someone on your staff must’ve snitched. Well you can deal with them later.

Right now they just need to hurry and pick you up.

Ugh you bought such a pretty new dress to show off to them…

It’s probably ruined in that dingy disgusting alley by now.

Shame.

A loud thud can suddenly be heard outside of your locked door and it caused your heart to race. Soon the door unlocked to reveal the beauty that is Choi San.

“Sannie!!” You chirped excitedly.

You leaped from the bed only to be pulled back.

“Ugh! Stupid handcuff.” You grumbled. Completely forgetting it was there.

“Oh Princess!!” San said as he made his way to you in a flash, quickly uncuffing you. With a key you’re not so sure where he got it from. A knocked out guard possibly. No matter though.

As now with your arms free you can finally engulf your husband in a big hug once again.

“Oh my sweet darling! What happened?? How are you here???” He asked as he pulled away and checked every inch of you to see where you were hurt.

“I’m not sure my Sannie. One minute I was walking to the car then the next thing I knew these big oafs grabbed me and dragged me here. I’m fine though love! I promise! Minor bruises and scratches is all..” You explained and try to reassure him.

You knew it was in vain though as even a microscopic scratch on you will cause any of your husbands to go on a rampage.

The fact your old butler is now six feet under for giving you a small cut is proof enough.

“Princess.. you’re clearly hurt…” San said with a sigh. “We’re so sorry.. This should’ve never happened.” He apologized softly stroking the bruise on your cheek.

“Hush now my love. You know there’s only one way I could ever possibly be considered hurt. And that is if anything were to ever happen to my precious husbands. Only then. Will I ever consider myself harmed.” Pure love and sincerity lacing your voice.

A voice San truly does miss. It’s been weeks since he’s home. Oh how he misses it.

“Well it’s good to know the feeling is mutual darling. As seeing these bruises and scuffs on your precious skin brings me nothing but great agony and ignites a fire in me like no other.” He explained as he kisses each visible blemish and cut.

“Don’t worry Princess. The others will be here very soon alright? Just sit tight. I need to get back to work to avenge you darling.” Once finished with his reassurance that your husbands are on their way, he finally gives you a kiss you’ve been craving ever since he left the comforts of your home.

“Okay my love. Though do be quick. I’m awfully bored. Oh and by the way..” You start as you softly trail your hand down his chiseled body. “You should start dressing like this at home. I’m sure the others would also very much enjoy it!” You giggle as your hand made it to his crotch. Cupping it.

Oh you missed the little twitch it does so much.

“Ah yes, hmm your wish is forever my command Princess.” He replies with a chuckle. He then takes your hand and kisses the wedding band on your finger softly.

“I love you Princess. I’ll be back.”

“I love you too.”

.✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧.

“Ah yes. Mr. Jeong. Welcome to my humble abode! I see my offer finally has caught your eye.”

Yunho doesn’t bother to reply before walking in.

“My, how rude you are. But very well. I’m sure you’re uneasy as.. something is missing.” The man then continues to taunt with a smirk.

Yunho’s face remains stoic, however his fist clenches a bit tighter.

“I have no time for your games.” Yunho simply states before letting himself into the mans office. Yunho then sits down and tells the man to do the same. “State exactly what it is you want. We’ll talk from there.”

The man lets out a scoff before sitting down across from him.

He then claps his hand which causes a very familiar man to walk in to bring in a tray of drinks.

“Thank you San.” The man says in a smirk, once again causing the diamonds in his mouth to shine.

San simply ignores him.

No longer seeing the need to act accordingly.

As San makes his way to leave, he gets stopped by a hand on his exposed abdomen.

“Excuse me. I don’t believe I’ve given you permission to touch my lovely toys.” The man warns Yunho.

Who is simply admiring his husband.

“Hmm… well, ‘your toy.’ Is quite the specimen I must say. Can’t seem to help myself.” Yunho says with a smirk towards San, running his hand up and down his body.

Oh lord how much they’ve missed each other’s touch.

With San’s back facing the man, he can’t see the smirk that San reciprocates to Yunho. Yunho lets out a soft chuckle before taking San’s hand and kissing his ring finger. That was unfortunately currently empty.

“Leave San.” The man growls.

San does. But not before softly grazing his fingers across Yunho’s broad shoulders.

“Odd.. he usually never lets anyone else touch him…” the man mumbles to himself softly. Too stupid to realize what’s going on.

“So you’ve stolen our Princess. Due to that you expect us to work with you. Is that it?” Yunho finally cuts to the chase.

“Well you’d do anything to get her back wouldn’t you?” The man replies cockily.

“Naturally.”

“Well then work with me. Then I’ll set her free. Simple!”

CRASH

“You’re a bigger idiot than we thought.”

Suddenly the sounds of bullets firing, screams and yells can be heard throughout the mansion.

The man, the coward he truly is, instinctively hides under the desk at all the noise. However that desks gets thrown off of him, revealing Yunho standing above him. Gun aimed straight to his forehead.

“Run.”

Without a second thought he books it out of the room. Only to be met with the bodies of his henchmen, maids and toys scattered about. Blood coating the walls and floors. He was frozen in shock. That is before a bullet goes flying near his head grazing his ear.

“AH!”

“I said. Run.”

The man once again runs, but also stupidly tries his luck and pulls out his own gun. Before he could even aim at Yunho, his gun was shot out of his hand.

“The more you try to survive. The less likely it’ll be the case. So when my husband tells you to run. You run.” Jongho simply states standing in the living room. Surrounded by dead bodies, shattered chandeliers, ruined paintings, and mangled musical instruments.

While he was devastated at the state of his fortune he was thankfully still smart enough to value his life more. So he began to rush again.

He thought that maybe he could take the shortcut that leads to his garage through his dining room. So thats where his running legs took him as bullets were still flying everywhere. So much so that he can’t tell which came from his own men and which came from ATZ.

As he made it into the dining room he was only met with the sight of his most precious car on top of his dining table.

“Oh? Were you planning on escaping with this? Hmm. That doesn’t seem possible now does it?” Seonghwa taunts while sitting on the roof of the car.

“All this over some girl?!?!” The man roars enraged of what has become of his hard work.

Seonghwa’s expression hardens in the blink of an eye. Without another word he stands and pulls out his gun then starts shooting at the man without mercy.

The man realizes his mistake too late and gets shot in the shoulder and grazed on the thigh. However the adrenaline pumping through his veins was still enough to have him dashing out of the room.

He no longer has a plan and getting slightly dazed from the blood he’s losing, he’s just trying to get out of there. He opens the nearest door to him hoping it’ll lead to an exit.

Unfortunately for him, once again he’s met with a horrible sight and sound.

“Ah! You’ve finally come to play!” Yeosang says with a smile laced with venom.

What the man has stumbled into is his indoor tennis courtroom. Where currently Yeosang and Yunho have gathered a bunch of his henchmen, somehow tied up their upper bodies, and made them into moving targets for their tennis practice.

Many of his henchmen had succumbed to their injuries and their blood has splattered and painted the walls, floor and ceiling.

Frozen in shock due to the gruesome display, Yunho took the opportunity to serve and strike a tennis ball straight to the mans face.

“Wonderful shot my love!!” Yeosang cheers.

“Your turn handsome.”

Yeosang then wastes no time before doing the same and hitting the man right on the crotch.

“Oops wasn’t aiming for that but I’ll take it.”

“I would say you got a higher score than me.” Yunho chuckles.

This man still doesn’t give up however.

Not like the boys wanted him too anyway. They always loved a challenge and this man hasn’t even payed a fraction of his sins.

.✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧.

After hearing the commotion thats happening outside your ugly holding room, you knew it only meant one thing.

Your lovely husbands are finally here to pick you up.

While the man that thought he could have his way by kidnapping you was being dealt with, the door to your room opened revealing your knights in shining armor.

Oh my! They look absolutely gorgeous in their suits.

If circumstances were any different you would’ve happily have them take you right then and there.

“My loves!!!” You screeched happily and skipped your way over to them.

“Oh Princess!!!” Wooyoung exclaimed happily as he wrapped you up in his arms.

Seonghwa and Jongho doing the same.

“Are you hurt Princess??” Seonghwa asked worriedly. “Oh my you are! Oh we’re so sorry darling…” Seonghwa didn’t even let you answer.

“My loves I’m fine! I promise I’m fine! I have you here, I’m alright. Where are the others..?” You ask with a pout.

“Oh they’re dealing with pests right now Princess don’t worry. It won’t take them too long.” Jongho says with a soft comforting smile.

“Hmm alright.. are you three taking me home?”

“Yes we are darling! Come no- goodness! what an ugly room they kept you in!! Our Princess doesn’t deserve this?!” Wooyoung then exclaims when finally taking notice of the room. Genuinely upset that you were kept in such an ugly room.

“I know right?! It’s so tacky!!” You say with an eyeroll. Seonghwa and Jongho can only chuckle at your antics.

The three of them then safely brought you outside. Where you were met with Hongjoong waiting patiently on the hood of the limousine.

Also looking immensely good. As in ‘please fuck me right now’ levels of good.

Alas.

Circumstances didn’t allow it.

“Joongie!!!” You exclaim happily as you sprint to him.

Hongjoong quickly opens his arms for you. You jump into his arms as he picks you up and spins you around.

“Oh our Princess.. we were so worried. We’re so glad you’re okay!” Hongjoong sighs in relief.

“Of course I’m okay! You’re my husbands! Nothing will ever harm me!” You say with your gorgeous smile.

“You were taken sweetie.. We’re oh so sorry…”

“Oh enough with your apologies! I’m fine! I promise I’m fine! It seems like you guys constantly forget my vows! Now that hurts! You know I’m only ever hurt when you guys are!” You remind them.

“Well the bruises on your sweet body may not hurt you but they do hurt us sweetie. So that makes it hurt you!” Wooyoung explains going off your logic.

“Alright smarty pants!” You huff.

“Besides! You all bruise me constantly! Do you not?” You tease.

“Those are different love.” Seonghwa says with a knowing glance and grin. Stepping closer to you.

“You know that very well. Any bruising or scratches done to your skin that is caused by us is all because you wished for it. Done specifically for your pleasure.” Jongho says as he leans forward as well to kisses a certain spot under your jaw.

You quickly bit your lip to suppress the moan bubbling up your throat.

Once Jongho pulls away, and you’ve calmed down, you look at all of them properly and smile.

“In all seriousness I’m fine my loves. I really am. You’re here now. You saved me. Like I knew you would. What happened to me was not because of you. Someone betrayed us that I’m sure of and we can deal with that later. Now can you all just take me home?”

“Very well our sweet.” Seonghwa says with a smile as he steps forward to kiss the crown of your head.

As you were about to enter the car you noticed Hongjoong still just standing there.

“My love? Are you not coming with?” You ask.

“Not yet Princess. I need to watch over and there are things I must do. Go home with the others. We’ll be home soon.” He informs with a smile.

“Hmm very well… Don’t take too long though! Tell that to the others too! I miss my husbands!!” You grumble.

“And we miss you. No worries. Being away from you after everything that has happened aches me as much as you.”

“Hmm alright. See you soon my beloved.”

With a final flying kiss goodbye, you enter the car with the rest. You all then drive off as Hongjoong turns around and looks at the mess he intends to finish.

Back in what was once a mansion, with the help of his henchmen that are still abled bodied and loyal to him. The man that caused all of this is executing a plan of escape.

They were finally able to sneak past all of the chaos that was still happening, to the last functioning escape car they know of.

Or so they thought.

Before they could even start the car. That wouldn’t have worked anyway.

They noticed San standing in front of it.

With an expression none of them have ever seen.

“San..?” The man questions as he thought San would’ve been killed as well.

San without even thinking twice, pulls out his own gun and shoots the very last henchmen he had, dead.

Merely as second after their bodies slumped over, a fist slammed into the window of the mans side, cracking it.

“Get out.”

Laughed.

The man laughed.

Thats the only thing he can do in this situation.

Incredibly bloodied, bruised and broken.

With everything he had worked for.

Gone. In less than a 12 hours.

All because he thought he could kidnap you and get away with it.

He then finally got out and stood in front of Mingi.

Where Mingi happily grabbed him by the back of the collar and dragged him to the front of the mansion. Here he threw him down in front of the feet of his lovers that had stayed behind. Their sea of henchmen standing behind them.

Before Hongjoong even acknowledged him, he turned to San. Admiring his body that he missed as much as the others but then clicks his tongue. He grabbed the fur coat San was still wearing then asked.

“He gave you this?”

San simply nodded.

Scoffing he tugs on it more, silently telling San to take it off as he takes his own off.

“No husband of mine will wear such a cheap and ugly fur coat like this any longer.” He complains as he puts his coat on San.

Thankfully he wore the big sized one today. It fits San perfectly.

“H-husband..?”

“Yes. Husband.” Hongjoong replies still admiring San but now also running his hand up and down his body.

Now these are the touches San’s been craving for all these weeks.

“Oh which reminds me!” Yeosang exclaims before pulling out a familiar gold band.

Seeing this causes a huge smile to appear on San’s face and his eyes to light up.

As he did many years ago, Yeosang took San’s hand and slipped his wedding ring back right where it belongs. Kissing it to seal the deal.

“Hmm. Much better. Oh also! You should start dressing like this at home.” The smirk never leaving Hongjoong as he says it.

“I agree.” Mingi states.

The other lovers humming in agreement.

San could only chuckle.

“Princess said the same thing.”

“Well we must make it happen then.” Yunho said with a wide cheeky smile.

“What the fuck is going on?!”

Oh they forgot he was there-

“You really did mess with the wrong people you stupid man.” Yeosang sighs bored of the man already.

“I have a name?!”

“We clearly don’t care. And it clearly won’t matter anymore.” Mingi says with an eyeroll as he flicks open a lighter.

“So this is it? You’re gonna set me on fire?”

“Yes.” San says.

The mans eyes shot wide. Somehow not expecting the blunt answer.

“Not before you watch everything you have burn of course.” Hongjoong says as Mingi throws the lighter behind the man.

The lighter then lands in a trail of gasoline that leads to mangled furniture and fortunes that are strewn about, before leading to the actual mansion.

It doesn’t take long until everything goes up in flames.

The man watches in agony as everything. Everything. Burns. He then turns to the men and curses.

“You’ve taken everything.. literally everything. Must you really kill me too?” The man asks somehow still trying to make it out of this alive.

“I won’t bother you again… I’ll just vanish. Live a quiet life please. You won’t gain anything from killing me. You got her back!!!” He bargains.

SMACK

“Don’t even think about mentioning her again. No. Don’t even think about her. Your mind is not worthy to have her in it.” Hongjoong says after slapping him straight across the face.

“You’re right though. We won’t gain anything from your death. We won’t even gain satisfaction.” Yunho starts.

“However. We’re merely just punishing sinners.” Yeosang continues.

“Before you even bother. No. You haven’t suffered enough. Not even close. But we could’ve done much more. So consider yourself lucky. As of now at least. As we’re sure in hell you’ll suffer even more for what you’ve done.” Mingi adds with a gleaming smirk.

“You took our Princess. Your greatest sin and stupidest mistake. So for that. You must pay the price.” San explains further.

“To put it simply. You gotta die.” Hongjoong finishes as he steps forward and grabs the mans collar.

“‘Cause you being alive is still a sin in itself. Why? Well... you’re still breathing her air.”

And with that, Hongjoong merely gives him one last shove. Making the man fall back into the flames.

His screams of suffering can be heard for miles. However due to his extensive injuries it didn’t take long for said screams to just stop. Leaving nothing but the melody of crackling fire in the air.

Once that happened, Hongjoong lazily chucked in San’s old fur coat into the flames as well. Coincidentally the coat landed perfectly on the mans, now charred, body. This action actually made Yunho chuckle.

“Oh. Like he needed that. I’m sure he’s toasty enough.” Yunho commented sarcastically.

In turn causing everyone else to also let out a laugh.

“Well. Thought he might want to descend to hell wearing what he thinks is fashion.” Hongjoong reasons with a shrug.

.✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧.

As the fire burned on ATZ and their henchmen just watched. Making sure everything gets burned to the ground. Took a while but it was beautiful in a way so they didn’t mind.

Once the fire started dying down the sound of a car approaching was heard.

Odd.

They were supposed to wait at home.

The car came to a halt and then the rest of ATZ exited. As they walked up to ones who were watching, the henchmen parted straight down the middle to make way before returning to position.

The rest that just arrived now stand next to the others as they also tuned in to watch the fire.

“Weren’t you all supposed to wait at home and keep Princess company?” Yeosang asked.

“Well we were. But we all missed you too much. And you know Princess loves watching the show. Plus.. she was getting needy for all of us.” Seonghwa explains with a subtle smile.

“Aaah I see. Oh! But she shouldn’t be breathing this much smoke though!” San says worriedly.

“Relax. We made her wait in the car. She can still view it well but she won’t be in harms way.” Jongho reassures before handing San a pair of pants.

“Good. Oh? What’s this? You’re not enjoying seeing me like this like the others are Jongie?” San teases.

Jongho simply rolls his eyes and ignores him. Biting the inside of his cheek hoping no one notices his flushed cheeks. Also trying to not look down at San’s bulge.

“I think he just doesn’t want to be distracted. This is the first time we’ve seen you in weeks Sannie. We missed you very much. You and your sexy body.” Mingi says as he nudges Jongho’s shoulder.

Jongho just softly nudges Mingi back.

“Just say you miss my cock.”

“We all do.” Wooyoung chirped in with a smack to San’s ass.

A couple of hours past before the fire finally dies down and the smoke begins to clear.

Their work here is finally done.

And just ust like that the car door then opens.

Then out walks you, their Princess, wearing one of your newest most lavish and expensive dress in your favorite color. You’re also all dolled up just for them.

At the sight of you exiting the car, the sea of henchmen that were still standing behind your husbands, quickly part to make way like before. However this time, they also got down on their knees, head down, in respect.

As they should.

“What a beautiful sight! Oh my loves you outdid yourselves with this one!” You praise them giddy as if you weren’t talking about the scene of a gruesome massacre.

“An appropriate punishment for such a sinner don’t you think Princess?” Hongjoong asks as he takes your hand.

“I suppose.” You hum as you stand beside him.

“Now that you’re done, can we please leave? I’m hungry!”

“Ah! One more thing before we leave!” Hongjoong announces as he walks towards the ashes.

In said ashes, there lies the skeleton of the man that started all of this. With a wide smirk on his face, Hongjoong carefully crouches down and picks up a small but very sparkly diamond from the teeth of said skeleton.

Hongjoong, smirk not faltering even a bit, makes his way back to you and takes your hand.

“What do you think princess? Shall we customize you a new ring?” He asks showing the diamond.

“Oh my! Yes please! Oh! And check for any more jewels that are left behind in these ashes and rubble! We shouldn’t let such pretty things go to waste.”

“Of course darling.” Jongho starts before turning his attention to the men that were still on their knees before you.

“You heard her.”

“YES SIR!”

Like that they all got up, bowed to you once more before rushing to the ashes where a lavish mansion once stood. In search of anything shiny that might please you.

“Hmmm can we pleeeasee eat now?” You ask with a pout.

“Yes we can our Princess. Yes we can.” Seonghwa tells you with a smile as they all lead you back to the car.

“Can we go to my favorite place tonight?”

“Anything for our Princess.”

.✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧.

Bonus ending! ♡

© mimikittysblog 2024

Tagging: @faeprincess777 @starygw3n @bee-gremlin @pinkpearlstar @sweetinsaniiity @puppyminnnie @borahae-reads @spenceatiny18 @justconniez @rosydipity @vtyb23 @beccaskz @boredlol914 @ntlmundy @latisthegenderfluidwannabealone @ateezswonderland @peachyy-jooniee @robertsbbygirl @hanniehq @smally97 @pixie0627 @haven-cove @jaerisdiction @btskzfav @bbyunicornbby @tinybada @cecilleasworld @mudent @mortal-advocate @jjcanwrite

Those who are italicized I could not tag for some reason :(

[yandere-daydreams]

tw - mentions of kidnapping/imprisonment, implied alcohol consumption, and reader referred to as 'mother'/'mom' but otherwise gender-neutral.

You let yourself into Arlecchino’s study exactly four strokes after midnight. Even from the doorway, she could see the crimson stain of wine on your lips, the tell-tale lilt to your posture. Clearly, your chosen habitat that night had been the House of the Hearth’s wine cellar – a not completely unusual pastime of yours, on its own. The fact that you were coming to her after drinking your fill was more notable.

She allowed you to stumble from the doorway to her desk before ever glancing up from the correspondence she was attempting to will herself to finish. Whichever one of her vintages you’d favored, it must’ve given you the strength to withstand the weight of the gaze you were always so quick to shy away from, the courage to all-but lay yourself across the crowded tabletop. Despite your new dauntlessness, your expression was sullen, your eyes glassy with tears yet to flow over. It was a face she was used to seeing in the confines of her chambers, or better yet, on the edge of her knee as she kept you perched in her lap through an otherwise dull meeting. Familiarity alone might’ve been enough to soften her, had she had any idea as to the source of your apparent distress.

 You didn’t speak until you were settled. Arlecchino remained patient, limiting herself to a slight smile and the melodic drumming of pointed nails against polished mahogany. “Peruere,” you drawled, her given name a honey-sweet slur on your tongue. “I don’t think I can do this.”

“I see.” It took every ounce of her impressive self-restraint not to laugh aloud. “What a shame. Remind me exactly what it is we can’t do, love?”

“I can’t do this.” You gave a sweeping gesture, nearly violent enough to knock yourself off-balance. “It’s not you—I mean, it is you, with the kidnapping and imprisonment and all, but aside from that, I just—” A deep, shuddering breath, followed shortly by a pitchy, almost keening noise. “I’m just not ready to be a mother.”

This time, Arlecchino couldn’t stop herself – a single, breathy chuckle slipping past her lips. Your frowned deepened, and she did her best to sober quickly. “I’m sorry, I—” She steepled her fingers in front of her, leaning forward to rest her chin on the point of intersection. “I suppose I wasn’t aware you were going to be.”

If you heard, you clearly weren’t listening. Rather unceremoniously, the glass splintered; your thin veneer of composure falling away as the first tear broke free, shortly followed by a second, then a third. She lost count somewhere around the dozenth. “It’s not that I don’t love your children,” you started, your voice cracking as you struggled to wipe at your eyes between words. “I mean, I love them all in spite of them being yours, which is actually really impressive because I find you so unbearably off-putting to be around, but— I’m sorry, I’m just not ready for this level of responsibility. There’s… how many? Fifty of them? Two hundred?”

“My love.” She pushed herself to her feet, dulling her voice into the softest, smoothest possible coo. “Isn’t it about time for you to retire for the night?”

“How could you possibly want to go to sleep at a time like this?” You were sobbing now, rather unabashedly. All attempts to maintain your dignity had been laid aside in favor of burying your face in your palms and hanging your head almost pitifully low. “I have five hundred kids to take care of!”

Whether you were too distracted to notice her arms wrapping around you or simply too panicked to care, it would’ve been impossible to say. You failed to protest as she pulled you against her chest, only sniffling miserably and burying your face in her coat. “You seem to have forgotten that ‘Father’ is only a title,” she murmured as gently as she could, letting her lips brush against the top of your head, then your tear-stained cheek. “Most of my children have already grown out of the need for a true mother and father, and I doubt those who haven’t view either of us in a very paternal light. Do you understand?”

There was a delay, but she felt you nod against her chest. Arlecchino could only sigh, already moving to exit her study. “Let’s get you to bed, dear.”

~

You were still unconscious by the time she rose the next morning, no doubt putting off the inevitable hangover. She left you where you lied and, after making sure a pitcher of water would be waiting for you when you woke up, went about her obligations.

It was only a few hours later that, during a conversation with Lyney, he seemed to pause, to glance to either side. Whatever he’d planned to say was quickly forgotten in favor of a new tangent. “I don’t think I’ve seen mom yet, today.”

At that, Arlecchino perked up. “Mom?”

He caught himself quickly, straightening. “Mother, I mean. (Y/n). My apologies, Lynette's disregard must be rubbing off on me.”

She took a moment to purse her lips, to do what she often did best and consider the information that’d been laid at her feet. “Lyney,” she said, eventually, when she’d made up her mind.

“Next time you use that name, make sure your mother is within earshot.”

[couldeatthatgirlforlunch]

Yandere batfam or justice league with a reader who’s afraid of strong people/men due to a past abusive relationship? She never wants to feel that powerless and weak again so she actively avoids interacting with anyone stronger, bigger, taller any more than necessary. She doesn’t hold it against other ppl she just has a lot of trauma that she’d rather not work through and feel safe in her little bubble

Hit me Hard and Soft

Synopsis: You get saved by Robin, but not everything is as it seems.

Pairing: Yandere!Poly!Romantic!Batboys X Gn!Reader

Tw: All characters aged up, of course; Mentions and descriptions of violence, including physical, psychological, sexual and financial abuse, and Damian fighting criminals (I'm particularly proud of the action scene I wrote); Drugging and being unconscious; Mentions of death of minor characters and suicide; Mentions of past grooming (Reader's ex) and age gap (Reader’s ex, Reader X Bruce, and the batboys age is not mentioned); Implied stalking; Mentions of kidnapping; Reader's very traumatized and weary of everyone; Reader doesn't trust the police; Mention of a panic attack and descriptions of actual panic; Guns and knifes; Mention of cigarettes; Implied needles; English isn't my 1st language.

Requested? Yes.

Extra notes: Wish I had more interactions between Reader and the batboys here, but I'm more than willing to make a part 2 with the right idea.

General masterlist | Hit me Hard and Soft - Series masterlist

He's back again. You wish you could say you didn't know why he always came back, but you did. The food wasn't that great and it wasn't that close to where he told you he worked or lived. It also didn't help that he always made sure to be served by you. And that he flirted with you.

— Evening, (N/N)! Is there something as sweet as you on today’s menu? — You gave a small and polite laugh.

— Strawberry pie… As always…

It was kinda sad, but mostly scary. If it wasn't for your ex, you would be thrilled to have gotten the attention of Dick fucking Grayson. The whole city knew he was handsome, rich, talented and charismatic. Gotham's sweetheart, Gotham's golden boy. And from your daily interactions, he lived up to the expectations. He was polite even when flirting with you and asking you out. Yet, something held you back.

— Nice! Since you get out in a few, why don't you bring in two slices? One for me and one for you, it's on me, of course. — You shook your head quickly, with an empty heart, just wanting to get away from him as fast as possible.

You were with your ex since you were 17 to 26. Almost 10 years wasted on a dirtbag. He convinced you to leave your friends, to leave your family, to leave your job. As soon as you started living together, you were completely dependent on him. Sometimes you blamed him, sometimes yourself, sometimes the people you had around you, but back then, where you came from, people weren't questioning the imbalance of powers between a 17 year old highschooler with no job and a 23 year old man with a steady job and living alone.

He convinced you that going to college and ending your relationship was the worst decision you could take. Then, that you didn't need your family, he could take care of you. One day, he decided you couldn't have friends.

He often locked you inside the house, cursed your skills and appearance, neglected your overall health, intimidated you, screamed at you, broke your things that he did and didn't pay for. He hurt you physically, even sexually. You knew both dating him and leaving him was hard, you just expected living with the scars was going to be easier.

And it was! You decided to run away from him and to Gotham when you received the news that your mom died and he didn't even want to let you go to the funeral. The grieving made you reflexive and you realized how shitty your situation was. For years you just thought that it would eventually get better, that you just needed to be strong, that he showed he loved you when he wasn't being an asshole, that you couldn't get anything better, that he made you feel special.

You couldn't even go to the police, he was a cop, you knew the chances that in any scenario you would lose. So you ran.

You knew it was dangerous, but you had nothing to lose. If he didn't kill you, you would do it yourself. You made a plan, drugged him, took some of his money, used his house keys, left everything behind for the second time in your life. You didn't waste time asking for help from the people you knew. You took the bus and went as far away as you could.

Your paranoia was so bad that for almost a year, you would settle in a city, work to save up enough, and leave again, rinse and repeat. Eventually, Gotham seemed big and far enough to go by unnoticed.

Or that's what you thought, until Dick Grayson stopped by the diner you worked to have breakfast before going to work, as a cop, and decided you caught his attention.

Since then, he came back everyday. Either breakfast, lunch, dinner, or just to hang out with some family member, usually one of his brothers, his dad appeared with him sometimes too. Your boss loved the attention Bruce and Tim attracted, the two most media active ones, since they both led Wayne Enterprises.

Eventually, even them started appearing multiple times a week. You thought you were healing, until you found yourself crying for almost four hours at home in a panic attack.

You didn't want their attention. Not only was it weird, but they were just so… Superior to you.

They were all taller, more muscular, faster, smarter, richer. It was like reliving the beginning of your relationship at 17, plus 10 times worse. Five because they were five people mirroring your ex, and more five just because of your trauma, experience, negativity and lack of naiveness.

Also, why were they ALL into you??? And they were aware of it! It was weird! Why??

Bruce Wayne was disarmingly charming in his dilf way. Dick was surprisingly accessible. Jason was soft spoken despite his resting bitch face and leather jacket. Tim was cute in a nerdy way. Damian almost made you laugh with his sarcastic humor.

Either way, you never wanted to feel as little as you felt before, so you just did your job, acted polite, but ultimately kept your distance.

Freedom has its difficulties, one of them being that you need money, and for money, you need a job, which means sometimes you have to stay until closing time, at 11 PM, in Gotham.

You're not the only employee to stay so late, but you and your co-worker live in opposite directions, so walking alone it is. They're taking the bus, but you only live two blocks away, so you gulp down your anxiety and keep walking. One hand on your pocket, holding your taser firmly, and keeping your head up, turning to look at every sound.

It's cold, and the street is empty and dimly lit. Some places are so dark that you wonder why you're even paying taxes if the streetlamps won't work.

Two men turn the corner a few meters in front of you, one at least a foot taller, the other, two inches max. They're wearing hoodies and their hands are on their pockets, the light behind them creates a shadow that doesn't allow you to see their faces, nor where they're looking at, but they are coming in your direction.

There's a car, parked between you both. Some people might think at this point it's just paranoia, but you’ve heard stories of people walking next to cars, getting pulled inside by someone who was hiding in there, and getting kidnapped.

Your first instinct is flight, so you turn around, ready to run, even if you look weird in case those guys weren't planning to do anything with you, just to see other two guys emerging from the other corner, those two almost as tall as that first guy. Aside from the smaller one, they're all broad, even with their thick clothes covering them.

One of them has a cigarette on his mouth, which he throws on the ground when you turn your attention to him. Your fear might have caused you to hallucinate, but you're almost sure he's smirking.

You freeze for a second, your only escape is to run to the side, and pray their long legs don't get to you first. You think you hear one of them start hollering at you.

You only take a step to the side, when a loud crash startles you so hard that you have to look behind, while walking backwards to the street. You take a second to process the sight.

Robin is standing in the middle, just a few steps behind where you were standing a second ago. He's at least half a foot taller than all of them, and a lot broader. He's holding the tall one by his neck with his right hand, repeatedly hitting his head against the car’s window.

You're shell shocked, torn between staying put to watch this disaster, as interesting as a car crash, or running away. Gotham is so big that you never thought you would encounter one of its heroes, you weren't sure if you even wanted to.

When the guy seems to stop moving, Robin throws him against one of the other tall ones, the guy practically flies across 2 meters before hitting him, and when he does, they both fall to the ground. You remember all the times when your ex pushed you to the ground.

Your eyes are wide, horrified, watching the shortest guy take a pocket knife out of his pocket. Your throat locks, even if you want to scream for Robin to turn around, you only manage to stare and stay in place, however, the vigilant turns halfway around just in time to grab the guy by his wrist and his arm, just as he launched to stab him. He uses his body’s impulse to push the guy forward, the knife going to the fourth guy's shoulder, you hadn't even seen him get so close to him.

You look at the man from the car, he's still unconscious, the one who got tackled with him, however, is already standing and walking to the fight.

Everything’s happening too fast, you turn to the side to see the guy with the knife on his back on the ground, groaning and twitching in pain, while Robin is punching the shit out of the other guy, movements faster than you could ever dream of achieving. You remember being on the receiving end of someone's fists before.

With a final elbow to the cheek, the guy stumbles to the ground, you don't know what level of consciousness he’s in, by his posture before, you knew he was already compromised since the first hits he took.

Robin doesn't move, doesn't even turn to look at the guy who just fell, he's just looking forward, and when you notice this, you look at the remaining guy.

He's pointing a gun at him.

You don't think you can watch someone get shot in front of you, and you know if he gets rid of Robin, it's over for you. Logically, you knew these vigilantes somehow never die, still, it's counterintuitive to think he won't.

And he doesn't, in the blink of an eye, Robin's on the air, his right boot kicking the gun away, while still on the air, he wraps his legs around the guy's head, bends backwards, puts his hands on the ground, then launches his whole body to the front, the guy getting thrown over him. He falls to the ground, Robin stands on top of him with perfect balance. You don't even have time to process what just happened, the coolest and scariest thing you saw your whole life, when Robin punches him one last time. Now, he's definitely unconscious.

You’ve felt like a bystander this whole interaction, it felt like ages, but in reality all of this couldn't have taken more than 20 seconds, maybe even less than 15. You don't know what to do now. You're theoretically safe, but Robin’s still too big, too strong, too fast. He knocked out four guys without getting touched a single time. He broke a car's window. He threw around two guys who weighed at least 80kg. He's not even panting. And now he's looking at you.

A whimper gets stuck in your throat. You don't know if you should thank him, stay silent, or yell at him to stay away from you. When he takes a step in your direction, your instincts get the better of you and you turn around, running.

You hear him call your name, although your brain doesn't process it. You see headlights and look towards it. It's a car. You don't trust you’ll get help, but at least you're not alone. You run in it's direction, waving your arms and screaming bloody murder.

The car almost hits you, but you don’t process that until the last minute, but you get tackled to the ground just in time by the hero from before. You scream again, he's too close. Now, he's trying to hold you down. You keep screaming and trying to escape. You look to the side and the car just kept driving away, likely the driver wouldn't stay behind to be another victim to Robin's hands. You know you're not being rational right now, those guys are known for helping people, he just saved you, he's still trying to stop you from getting hurt, but you're scared. You've been scared since you were a teenager.

Your eyes burn, your arms and throat hurt, but adrenaline doesn't let you feel anything. Not even the invasion of a needle on your side.

— Was it really necessary? — Tim deadpans Damian, who growls.

— You would have done the same, Drake.

— No, I wouldn't. You were supposed to use the psychological first aid approach and (Y/N) would've calmed down and trust us more in the future. But of course, you never use your brain. — Damian growls, stepping towards Tim, but he is stopped by Dick’s hand resting on his chest.

— Damian, calm down, Tim’s right. You knew better than to sedate them. You knew of (Y/N)’s trauma and you knew the route we wanted to take. — Damian's brows furrowed and he crossed his arms.

— I knew your feelings toward (Y/N) would make you become impulsive again. — Tim looked at Bruce, who was silent, with hands intertwined and elbows on the table, focused on your vitals on the screen and the sight of you laid on the bed on the medbay. — Will you now consider just letting you, me and Dick keep an eye on them during patrol? — Damian and Jason scoffed.

— Why you aiming at me now? It was the demon who gave that guy brain death! — Jason protested and Tim looked at him.

— Just to be sure you won't freak out like him and kill thrice as many people, on purpose this time. — Jason glared at him.

— B, you better add more security measures around (Y/N), before Timbo tries to clone them or something. — He muttered with snark.

Dick shook his head and sighed, going to stand on Bruce's side, crossing his arms and looking at you through the camera with him.

— What's the plan now, B? They're probably waking up soon. — Bruce hummed, relaxing his stance and resting his back against his chair. The silence lingered for a few seconds, everyone just looking at you, waiting for the oldest’s opinion.

Bruce turned around, looking at them.

— … Damian, Tim's right. You were impulsive today and you killed someone, even if it was an accident. I stopped expecting that from you since you were 12, you're an adult now. You not only broke our trust, but (Y/N)’s already shattered trust. They need to know they're safe with us, and drugging them, instead of puting to use more time and effort to bring the comfort to them, is not going to do that. You weren't much different than the man who hurt them tonight. — His father's words were like a punch to Damian's stomach, leaving him speechless. Dick pursed his lips, not turning around as to make it easier to not comfort his brother just yet. Bruce turned to Tim. — Tim, I understand you want to take measures seriously. But you need to give Jason a chance. That was unasked for. — The mentioned blinked, still unacostummed with the treatment he received from his dad when he followed his rules. Tim looked away. Bruce turned to Damian again. — Damian, no patrolling around (Y/N) until you prove we can trust your temper again. — He waited for a confirmation, which came with a sneered lip.

— Yes, father.

Dick looked back a Bruce.

— What about (Y/N)? — He bit his lips. Bruce hummed, turning to look at the monitor again.

— … What do you all think?

— Well… Damian said their name, they might not remember it, but they can't just wake up at home. They’d try to flee from us. We could bring them home earlier, but our ideal plan was to make them come willingly, in the period of at least two years, in the best case. We could leave them at the hospital, and just keep our plan going. — Dick listed the possible strategies they could take. Bruce hummed.

Tim piped up.

— I already altered their phone's algorithm to send the job application as my assistant at Wayne Enterprises to them. And the Wayne Foundation’s application for the internship at Gotham Uni. — Bruce nodded.

— Damian? What do you understand about that? — It was clearly the beginning of his test.

— The more secure in their independence they feel, the easier it is to heal and open themselves up to new opportunities. — Damian exclaimed with confidence. Bruce nodded.

— Jason, are you still interested in college? — Everyone looked at Jason surprised, he was also surprised, he hadn't talked to Bruce about college since before he died.

It took a few seconds to processes what it would mean.

— Uh… I think so?! — Bruce nodded.

— What about me, father? — Damian spoke inquisitively. — I also want more opportunities to get closer to (Y/N)! — Bruce narrowed his eyes at him.

— We will think about that when you're in the clear.

— But-

— That's final. You reap what you sow. — Damian huffed and nodded begrudgingly. — … Now, since Robin was the one to save them, take the batmobile and leave them in the hospital. Then come straight back home. Understood? — Damian clenched his jaw and nodded silently, leaving to get your unconscious body.

Moments later, when you were both out, on the way to the hospital, Tim fiddled with the computer, the scream showed the batmobile’s tracker, your tracker, Damian's tracker, Damian's contact lenses’s camera and the car’s camera. They all looked at him.

— … It's just to make sure…

Comment, like and reblog 🥰

DC Taglist:

@wandalfnation @vadersassistant @h0rr0r-10ver-69 @hxsun4 @silverklaus @toast-on-dandelioms @bluewillbon @ladyel1x1r3l0p3r