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gaysimpsstuff · 4 years ago

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Flightless Birds Chapter One: Feathers in Fukuoka

Chapter Two Here

Chapter Three Here

Chapter Four Here

Chapter Five Here

Summary: Y/n unexpectedly meets the current number two hero Hawks in Fukuoka. The grayish blue Parakeet catches the eye of the speedy hero, who promises himself he’ll meet them again.

Word Count: 2.5K words

Warnings: Child abuse, Karens, blood, Hawks being creepy, chaotic best friend, gore, shitty parents, deadbeat dad

Other: The amount of research I put into this, wing anatomy, feather anatomy, types of birds, parakeet behaviors, cities in Japan, I even found a good Japanese name for the best friend, since this does take place in Japan. If you wanna know, Izanagi, the name of Y/n’s best friend in this fic, means ‘First male, god of creation’ and I love that name. Actually, I love anything in the Japanese language, it’s such a beautiful language and I cannot wait to learn it. Also, there was a problem with the spacing in the flashback scene so I just fixed that real quick, sorry for the inconvenience!

Taglist: @smolchildfangirl @combat-wombatus @cathy8taffy @1small-frogs @catcherisvibin @waffleareniceandfluffy @mandalorian-baby-bird @theblueslytherin (If you want to be added/removed from the taglist let me know).

You stared out the window. It had taken forever but you’d convinced him to let you look down at the streets surrounding his penthouse. You rested one hand on the cool glass, letting out a breath. Your other hand was tracing the scars on your legs, You had long given up on getting them to heal.

You fluttered your wings, or what was left of them. No matter how many times your primary flying feathers would grow back, it would never deter your captor from simply clipping them off again. Thankfully, he did a better job than other people. He would never cut a blood feather. Well, mostly.

You closed your eyes, the house was so stifling at times, despite the large open rooms, and the fact that your captor would occasionally allow you out into the garden. You attempted to recall the last time you were free in Fukuoka. You remembered a bright sky, blue as your wings, and clouds fluffy and soft as your feathers. You remembered the ache in your body from working yourself all day, and just how heavy your legs felt. You remembered a kid’s joyful cheers when she saw you….

“Mommy! Look, look at the pretty bird! Can I touch it please?” you were standing on the street, waiting for a friend to pick you up and take you over to their house to watch movies and eat popcorn. You looked up from your phone at the sound of the child’s loud, innocent voice.

“Go right ahead, Kaneko!” a woman’s voice this time. You frowned. Whatever bird they were talking about it probably wasn’t a good idea for the kid to just run up and touch it. You were forcibly removed from your thoughts when sharp pain shot up through your wing. Oh, you were the ‘pretty bird’ the kid was talking about.

Your quirk was Parakeet, and that was fine by itself, but it came with pros and cons. Some pros were that you could fly, even though you couldn’t do that in public in most places in Japan. Some cities in Japan had laws that allowed flyers to take to the skies under strict sky traffic laws, but Fukuoka was not one of those cities. Maybe you would have been better off in Miyagi or Fukui, where you could fly freely, but at the same time, you had lived your whole life near Fukuoka, plus it was such a beautiful city, it was easier to stay here.

Another pro was simple, the thing most people think about when they say they want a mutant-type quirk. The looks. Your wings had three different colors, but the base color was a beautiful summer sky blue. At the very top of your wings, your marginal coverts were a curious shade of gray. Not dark enough to be black but not light enough to be white. Underneath were your secondary coverts, which were white as the clouds in the sky. The rest of your feathers were pretty blue colors. Your tail feathers followed the same pattern as your wings.

Everything else about your quirk wasn’t very fun. Behavioral issues that had gotten you in trouble in school and at work, especially during mating season. Plus the sheer amount of people with prejudice against mutant quirks. You’d heard it all. People thinking they had the right to touch your wings and tail, people shouting to you in a high-pitched voice to force you to repeat their words, people claiming you weren’t human, people insisting you fly them somewhere, etc etc. This was unfortunately something you dealt with on the daily.

Just like this kid grabbing your wing.

“OW! Don’t do that!” you shrieked, yanking your wing away from the kid, spinning around to see her. Her little hand was wrapped around one of your darker feathers. Fuck. Of course, she grabbed a blood feather. The little girl’s eyes welled up in tears, and she turned and ran back to her mom. Thank the stars, she let go of your feather.

You sighed, running your fingers through your wings to smooth the ruffled feathers.

“Excuse me, bird!” the mother of the child grabbed your shoulder, forcibly spinning you around to face her. She was middle-aged, and furious. “What did you do to my dear Kaneko?”

You glanced between the woman and the girl, Kaneko. Kaneko was in tears, holding onto her mother’s leg. She had to have only been three or four, she probably didn’t know any better.

“I didn’t do anything to your child, ma’am. She ran up to me and grabbed my wing, which is very painful, and actually very rude in case you were unaware.”

“I don’t give a shit!” the woman screeched. You flinched away from her. She was cursing in front of her toddler? Irresponsible. “It’s my dear Kaneko’s birthday, and I say she gets whatever she wants! You’re just a fucking bird, so why can’t you sit still and let my daughter pet you!?”

Great, she was a fucking Karen. This was just what you needed after dealing with co-workers and clients at work. Getting your feather pulled and a crazy lady all up in your face, freaking out at you. Because her daughter hurt you.

“Because it’s painful, and I’d prefer not to let strangers touch my wings.” You explained yourself calmly.

“You fucking bitch!” the woman was screaming, her finger in your face. “You selfish, greedy little pig! She’s a child, let her live her life!” Shadows danced in your peripherals as her words faded from your ears.

Cold metal was pressed up against your feathers, you dreaded the snipping noise that meant she was cutting. You could feel the scissors press into the stem of your feather before the metal blades connected, severing the feather from your wing.

“Ow! Mommy that hurts!” hot, wet, salty tears stained your cheeks. “Mommy please stop it!” You were five, getting your wings clipped for the first time.

“Shut up! Don’t be so fucking selfish!” a harsh voice snapped at you, the aggression making you shudder as you sobbed. Your pupils were blown wide in fear as you screamed. “Stop, Mommy that one hurts more!” your mother didn’t even hesitate, cutting off another feather. It hit the ground like the rest of them, but something else came with it. Blood dripped down your wings, staining the pretty blues and plopping onto the ground.

“You’re dirtying my clean floors!” mother screeched behind you. “When I finish with your wings, you’ll clean that up!”

“Mommy?” you sniffled, trying to hold back your chest-heaving sobs. “Why do I hafta have my wings clipped?”

“So you don’t fly away like your jackass of a father. I won’t let you leave Mommy.”

“Get your finger out of my face, woman!” you shouted at her, you were just seconds away from biting it off of her ugly hand. You were trembling, and you could hardly breathe what with the marching drums hammering away at your ribcage

“Don’t you tell me what to do, you inhuman!” The little girl shied away from her mom, crying harder. You opened your mouth to retort against the crazy Karen, but stopped when you saw the girl’s reaction. You knew she probably felt bad for hurting you, and now her mother was screaming and cursing, you knew how scary that was.

Your train of thought was interrupted by a whoosh of wind and a flash of red. Something wrapped around your arms, tugging you away from the woman, and something tugged the woman away from you. You looked down, seeing red feathers curled around your biceps. You’d only seen red feathers in one other place. When your own feathers were soaked in blood from your mom’s clippings. You shook your head, pushing the dark memories from your mind as you grabbed the feather and pulled it off of you as quick as possible, it flew away from you almost immediately, heading towards a man far taller than you. His golden hair was messy but very soft-looking. His slitted eyes glanced between you and the woman behind his golden goggles. His hands rested in the pockets of his large brown jacket. But none of that compared to his intimidatingly large red wings. It would be impossible not to recognize him, he was your best friend’s favorite.

Number Two Pro-Hero in Japan; Hawks

“What’s going on here?” he asked. “I heard shouting.” he said, a lazy smile resting on his face.

“This crazy bird-bitch hit my daughter!” the Karen screamed hysterically.

“Are you kidding me?” you thought she’d at least be above that, but it looked this woman didn’t give a shit about morality. “I didn’t touch her at all! She grabbed my wing then you freaked out when it hurt me!”

“Hey, now, no need to get upset.” Hawks turned to you, and something in him changed. His wings shivered, and his eyes slitted, before blowing back out to normal size. “Birdie, tell me your side of the story.” you took a step away from the hero, something about his reaction to seeing you didn’t seem natural. It creeped you out. Also, why was he calling you ‘birdie?’

“I was standing around, waiting for my friend, then this kid saw me. She must have thought my wings were pretty because she ran up to be and grabbed one of my feathers. A blood feather, actually. It hurt and I yanked my wing back and told her not to do that. This woman seemed to have some delusion that her daughter has every right to touch and hurt me and I’m supposed to- and I now quote- ‘sit still and let her pet me.’” You explained.

“Ah I see.” Hawks nodded, turning to a young man on the street. “Sir, who’s explanation is correct?” he asked.

“Uh- the bird’s?” the guy seemed out of it, just staring at the hero.

“Thanks, sir. Ma’am, could you and your daughter apologize to this nice person?”

“No way in fucking hell!” the woman screamed. “Come on, Kaneko, we’re getting out of here. And I’m throwing away all your Hawks bobbleheads, now I know he’s a fucking biased pig.” The girl glanced up at her mom before quickly running to you, taking your hand.

“I’m sorry!” she cried. “I didn’t wanna hurt you, your wings just looked so pretty!” you softened a little, crouching down and patting the girl’s head, smiling at her.

“It’s alright, I forgive you. Next time you see something pretty, tell the person it’s pretty, then ask if you can touch it.” The girl lit up, nodding eagerly.

“I will!” she exclaimed before her mother dragged her away.

“You didn’t need to apologize to that asshole. They were the one that made you cry.” she grumbled, walking down the street as she fumed.

“Poor girl…” you muttered. “Having a Karen for a mom.” you stared after her empathetically. You didn’t notice the look in the hero’s eyes, staring you up and down, shifting from one leg to the next. “Oh um, thanks Hawks,” you said, turning back to him. “For helping me.”

You froze when you saw his face, eyes seemingly staring into your soul, expression blank. He seemed to be calculating something, scanning you for information. Your blood ran cold when you noticed his pupils, thinner than paper.

“Oh!” he was shaken out of his daze by your voice, a careless smile dawning his features as his pupils returned to normal. “No problem, Birdie.” you pursed your lips, nodding. You saw a small black car turn the corner, and you honed in on the license plate. Saved at last! Your friend was here!

“Alright, uh I’ve gotta be going now…” you chuckled nervously.

“Wait, a sec, I’m gonna need your name for a report.” he dug around in his pocket, pulling out a small voice recorder and holding it up to you. “Just speak it in here.” Oh, yeah that made sense, Heroes had to make reports of everything they resolved in a day, so it was probably best to get the names of the people they help in case the PHSC needed to contact them.

“Y/n.” you spoke as clear as you could when he pressed the button on the side of the recorder. “Y/n L/n. Hawks helped me win a petty fight with a Karen.” you chuckled a little into the recorder. Hawks nodded, putting the recorder back into his pocket. He glanced back at you for a moment, expression aloof and apathetic.

“Thanks, Y/n!” he flashed you another smile before taking off into the sky, leaving you confused.

Why did he use your personal name and not your family name?

The door to the small black car opened, and your friend stumbled out, running forward a few paces before cursing.

“You fuckin kidding me, Y/n? You got to meet Hawks?” he stared at you in disbelief. “You couldn’t have made him stay a minute longer? You know he’s my celebrity crush!”

You couldn’t help but laugh. Your best friend since you were a young child, Izanagi Fujikawa. Bisexual, chaotic, and your mortal enemy.

“Iza, he’s a pro hero. He’s got shit to do!” Izanagi pouted, crossing his arms.

“I know… I’m still mad at you though.” you rolled your eyes, scoffing.

“We can deal with that.” you poked his cheek, climbing in the passenger seat before he grabbed your elbow, pulling you back towards him.

“Your wing’s all messed up- what happened?”

“I’ll explain in the car.” you shrugged him off, climbing in and buckling your seatbelt, unaware of the sharp golden eyes watching you.

Hawks was perched on a nearby building, eyes slitted as he glared down at your friend. You two were close, he could tell. Why did that make him so fucking furious? His feathers twitched as he played back the recording you’d given him. That laugh, golden and free. He looped it, your gentle voice blessing his ears and relaxing his body for him.

“Pff- hahahaha!” he closed his eyes, re-imagining your face, the soft smile gracing your angel-like features, the way your wings flapped slightly, the nearly inaudible purr vibrating in the back of your throat. He wanted you to laugh around him more, he wanted you to be around him more, he wanted you to be his.

Even if he only got to talk to you for a minute, he felt like he already knew everything there was to know about you. You didn’t like causing trouble, seeing how polite you were at first to that crazy lady. You could stand your ground though, not afraid to stand up for yourself. You were kind, and forgiving, he got that from how you treated the kid.

A sudden realization struck Hawks. It was frightening, terrifying even. He loved you. Breathtaking Y/n L/n, the pretty parakeet. Ah, but that guy. That guy was in the way. Not to worry, he could remove the… complication.

Soon.

You would belong just to him.

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panharmonium · 4 years ago

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NARUTO THOUGHTS FROM TONIGHT

[disclaimer as always: I’M WATCHING THIS FOR THE FIRST TIME; PLEASE DON’T SPOIL ME ABOUT ANYTHING OR TALK TO ME ABOUT WHICH SEASONS YOU THINK ARE GOOD/BAD/BETTER/ETC; I’M TRYING TO STAY COMPLETELY SPOILER-FREE; THANK YOU <3]

1) sakura being treated like an actual main character and having a complete battle to herself and being determined and smart and just as much of a fully realized character as everyone else is AMAZING; that’s what it should have felt like from the beginning. i loved the flashbacks to her studying with tsunade, particularly when tsunade was yelling at her not to close her eyes in the middle of a battle. it was just awesome to see sakura getting as much attention devoted to her as has always been devoted to the boys.

2) gai forcing his team to do the “everybody put your hands in the middle and shout a slogan like a sports team” thing and neji being literally more willing to die than participate and gai refusing to budge until neji puts his hand in had me shrieking with laughter

3) i also was losing it at the other akatsuki casually shit-talking orochimaru while packing up for a mission

sasori: i heard he tried to take over itachi’s body and failed. now he’s taking younger and stronger bodies, trying to become immortal.

deidara: *laughs* that’s so stupid.

orochimaru has been living in our minds as the Biggest Bad of all time but these guys think he’s a total joke lmaoooo

4) the sharingan - i FUCKING KNEW IT. way back in shonen jump i suspected this and i was Right; the minute itachi laid out the rules for mangekyo sharingan back in S5 i knew. i KNEW kakashi was going to be able to whip it out at some point and i was fucking RIGHT; when i tell you i screamed...

on a side note, i really appreciated seeing him struggle with it. he “misses” twice (though, i mean, getting the guy’s arm was pretty helpful, frankly), and even though he gets it right the one time it desperately matters, he’s totally trashed afterwards. it obviously hurts to use, and i just appreciate that they didn’t make him magically proficient at it. this felt much more real, and it’s way more interesting an ability for me to wonder about than powers that don’t have consequences or limitations.

5) “DIDN’T ANYBODY THINK ABOUT HOW GAARA WOULD FEEL” aka “didn’t anybody think how I would feel when they put this thing inside me,” GOD, i’m sobbing. i like that we’re starting to see that the show is in fact aware of the ethical ramifications of gaara and naruto’s situations, aka “hmmm maybe sealing super-powered spirits inside babies was Wrong.”

6) naruto breaking down crying and bursting out with i couldn’t save sasuke in the middle of ostensibly talking about gaara really has me clawing my face off godddddddddd. i couldn’t save sasuke. and i couldn’t save gaara. i trained so hard for three years and nothing’s changed. he’s always so positive and determined and optimistic all the time but then you get a glimpse underneath of how affected he still is by this thing he tries not to let people see him dwelling on and how much it actually hurts him

#anyway we watched so many episodes tonight and it was all great #one of my favorite things in shows is when you get to see other characters be like 'oh shit wow what' when someone does s/th impressive #particularly when they don't exactly understand it and are just looking on stunned or in wonder #like that one scene in clone wars when obi-wan hypnotizes the attacking creatures on ryloth and lures them into the canyon #and all the clones are staring and that one guy just whispers 'incredible'#they did that with kakashi at least three times tonight and it was fucking fantastic #naruto #pan watches naruto

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a-world-in-grey · 4 years ago

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A Year and a Day

@secret-engima Six curse it all WHY DO YOU DO THIS TO ME-

(Fusion with the new Mer AU because I ALSO have no self-control, ffs. Also, because I’m going off of the one posted story and a single ramble, I have absolutely NO IDEA how much of this actually fits in your Mer AU so like, yeah? See the end/tags for more.)

-It’s been a year since those horrible two weeks after Libertus lost Nyx in a storm (a year since Libertus nearly lost her forever) and a year since the realization that mythical merfolk aren’t quite as extinct as everyone thought.

-At first it was just Nox and his Uncle, but after that it seemed like the floodgates opened, because one particularly rough day - not quite a storm thank Ramuh - on the waves saw another merman with the fins of a Lionfish but in red and liquid silver clawing his way on deck and screeching at Nyx and Tredd and it wasn’t until Libertus’ heart stopping trying to beat out of his chest that he realized the merman was scolding the two idiots-

-Captain was the only merman to stick around near constantly, even more than Ardyn and Nox (to Nyx’s disappointment) but occasionally other mer would pop by to talk with Captain in that strange language the rest of the crew was slowly but surely beginning to pick up.

-It’s been a year since that fateful storm. No, a year and a day, and Libertus is maybe a bit on edge because if there’s something Libertus has figured out, it’s that Fate loves her Significant Numbers.

-(A year and a day. A decade. A century. A millennia.)

-A year and a day. If anything is going to happen. If anything is going to happen, it’s going to be today.

-And to top it off, it’s storming. Again.

-Nox is with them this time. Libertus isn’t sure he should be relieved by the merman’s presence or worried that a powerful mythical being shares his worries.

-The Flotilla is facing off against another Niflheim Fleet. Not Tummelt this time, though Tummelt had survived the storm that nearly claimed Nyx’s life. No, this time it’s led by the Aureus, captained by Caligo Ulldor and that’s the only reason they’re facing off in such a storm at all.

-(No matter the risk, they cannot let Ulldor reach land. Every Galahdian would give themselves to the Stormsender’s Wrath then allow the atrocities Ulldor would inflict upon their people.)

-But Ulldor isn’t the young and reckless captain Tummelt is, surviving by daring and wits. Ulldor, for all that no Galahdian would ever admit it to his face, is a match of skill for any Furia captain, and a crew equally sea-worthy. The Aureus keeps up with the Stormheart, even with Captain at the helm, even as the rest of the Niflheim fleet falls to Nox and the Flotilla.

-Until a note splits the thunder-struck sky, not so much a Song as a shriek, high and shrill and inhuman and panic-desperation-betrayal-runrunRUN hitting all of them like a rogue wave.

-And the scream cuts off with terrible suddenness and Captain roars, hate and fury blanketing the ship as he shouts for them to brace for impact, just in time for a ship - Tummelt - to somehow appear from nowhere and ram them from the port side.

-Libertus manages to grab Nyx and the rigging, wrapping one arm around her waist because he refuses to lose her a second time-

-It doesn’t matter, as the Stormheart splits, sending them into the waves and the last thing Libertus hears is Nox’s furious scream.

-(A year and a day.)

-He wakes.

-Libertus wakes with sunshine on his face, in his soul and lungs, hands helping him turn and vomit up sea water as his own clench in the sand beneath him-

-Heaving for air, reveling in the pain because Shiva’s tits it hurts but pain means he’s alive, how-?

-Nyx’s worried blue eyes, checking him over, helping him sit up before wrapping arms around his neck and sobbing. Libertus returning the hug because his brain still can’t comprehend anything his eyes are seeing.

-The crew of the Stormheart, laid out on the beach. Most of them awake and sitting up, being tended to one of the many red-haired Furia that must be from one of the local villages, given the children and Elders among them, handing out food and water and bandages.

-Nox and Ardyn - and when did the other merman arrive? - seeing to the worst of the wounded, blue and gold magic shimmering through the air. And Captain, beside him and Nyx, grim faced but guarding the-

-Libertus’ heart skips a beat, and he wonders if he’s actually dead.

-Nyx lets out a wet snarl and smacks his shoulder. Did he say that out loud?

-“Y-you were.” Nyx hiccups, hands clenching in his shirt.

-Libertus wants to disbelieve it. Coming back from the dead isn’t possible. Only, he can’t, because the Koi mermaid with red and gold scales in the tones of a summer sunset, trailing up arms and from sea-blue eyes, hair the same red-violet as Ardyn, bends over a horribly pale and still Tredd, pressing lips to his and breathes.

-And in a shimmer of gold, Tredd sputters, coughing up seawater as Luche and Axis help Tredd turn over.

-“Breath of Life.” Captain tells him, eyes dark. “A rare gift. And not one without consequences.”

-Consequences? What consequences-

-Sunshine on his face. But the sky is clouded over and Libertus can still feel a warmth in his soul, like the hearthfire of his childhood home, like the summer sun as he and Nyx played in the Galahd River.

-Breath of Life. Nox and Nyx mated with a kiss, “We didn’t just get married, did we?” He squeaks.

-Libertus might be panicking. The least Nyx could do is not laugh at him, thank you very much.

-The Captain’s chuckles are much more reassuring. Mostly because he wouldn’t laugh if it were serious. “No. Mating requires consent.” Captain shoots a wry look in Nyx’s direction. “If not informed consent. Of either party.”

-Nyx just snorts, a year of teasing on the subject inuring her to any embarrassment. Nox on the other hand still turns as red as Ardyn’s hair whenever someone brings it up.

-Libertus is relieved. Not that he’d necessarily mind being married to the mermaid who - on top of being very pretty - saved his life and the lives of most of the crew it looks like, but Libertus doesn’t fancy suddenly becoming part of a harem no matter how pretty said mermaid is.

-“So what happened, then?” Libertus asks, because if he’s not married, he’d like to know what Captain means when he says consequences.

-“A gift of magic.” Captain says bluntly. “Most merfolk aren’t capable of it, but most merfolk aren’t the Draconian’s either, and dragons have always been possessive of their Claimed.”

-What did dragons have to do with merfolk- wait. Libertus’ head whips around to stare at the fire-haired mermaid. At the Koi mermaid, and suddenly Libertus remembers the tales of koi fish climbing the mountain rivers to reach the Sky and become Dragons. “I thought- those are myths.”

-The Captain raises a wry brow. “So are merfolk.”

-And as Libertus sputters at the fact he’s been Claimed by a Princess, Nyx gives up and cries with laughter.

More notes on this so I hopefully don’t go any further down this rabbit hole-

-Sola was captured by Niflheim, and experimented on by Besithia who learned how to harness and shape her magic - and the magic of other mer - essentially turning Sola into a magical battery. She and other magically powerful mer are brought into battle to give them a magical edge against their enemies.

-Sola was most commonly brought aboard Caligo’s ship and used to hide the presence of other ships so Caligo could crush his enemies in flanking and pincer maneuvers.

-Sola sensed the presence of other mer, sensed Titus’ presence and fought back, if only by screaming a warning because she refused to be the reason another of her people were captured and used. She’d die first.

-She thought she would, when Caligo slit her throat and dumped her overboard. But Ardyn found her and healed her, and then he and Nox destroyed the Niflheim fleet and Sola helped rescue and heal the Galahdians.

-Like Titus, Sola has a lot of scars. The worst is the scar across her throat, the scar over her chest and back from someone running her through - the Kings of Yore, multiple times from when Niflheim pushed her magic too far - and the scar across her back from when they first captured her. The rest are from torture, experimentation, and being forced to heal her captors.

-Sola once had a beautiful singing voice. But now, despite Ardyn’s healing, Sola’s voice is a raspy croak and she can’t speak much before the pain gets too be too much, so typically sticks to sign language anyway. Sola doesn’t mind the loss, but Titus and a lot of the other Galahdians feel guilty because she lost it - and almost her life - because she warned them.

-Everyone Sola saves with the Breath of Life ends up getting the gift of her magic. Similar but lesser in scale to the gift of magic Nyx has from her mating with Nox. It also means that Sola becomes very possessive of the Galahdians she saved, because they are Hers.

-The day Sola decides to start Courting Libertus is the start of many Shenanigans and much hilarity for everyone on the Stormheart II. Because Sola’s picked up just enough of Galahdian Courting to know generally what to do (bring gifts/kills to show Ability to provide, bring dead enemies to show Ability to protect home, etc), but she’s a mer so like, not all of it comes across.

-Though, the day Sola presents Libertus with a beautifully made sash of woven sea-silk (that the Lazarus weep over) dyed in shimmering blue and black is the day Libertus finally gets a clue and everyone gets to see Libertus choke and turn bright red. Sola just laughs and kisses Libertus on the cheek.

-Sola and Libertus are very affectionate with each other, though they carefully never kiss on the lips. But forehead kisses, cheek kisses, hand kisses (the first time Libertus does this to Sola, she turns as red as her scales), and lots of cuddling is very common to see.

-Sola crafts a marriage bead out of a golden pearl that she gifts to Libertus. Libertus waits for Sola to braid it into her hair, then braids the Ostium braids into her hair, before he seals their marriage with a kiss. (And, if it applies in this AU, Sola gives up her mer form and most of her magic for the form of a human, and gets to learn how to walk on human legs.)

-(By the time they marry though, Libertus has met the entirety of the royal family including Regis and Aulea and has decided that Aulea is by far the scariest of his in-laws. Nox and Ardyn included.)

Fun Fact: in Japanese (and Chinese?) myth, koi swam up river to try to climb the mountains. If they succeeded in reaching the sky, they transformed into dragons.

#Shadow of Heaven's Light #ffxv #fusion #Nox verse #mer au #SE feel free to use any of this #I dunno what you've got already for this au #I'm going off literally two posts #so like this is an au #of an au of an au #AU-ception #all hail the author #who can inspire almost 2k words #at the drop of (ardyn's really ugly) hat

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burntpastel · 4 years ago

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the damage has been done

(On AO3)

Summary: Yagi avenges his boy.

Notes: Late verse for context. part of a fic trade with a friend.

raping people is evil. there is no situation that justifies rape. dont do it, and and don't base any real life relationships or choices off the content of fanfics.

cw: noncon, rape as revenge for rape, implied/referenced underage rape and impregnation, multiple descriptions of gore that dont really happen, blood, injury, broken/dislocated limbs

18+ only, explicit, grapefruit, etc.

The skull under Yagi's hand hits the ground with a thwack! that would be quite concerning under any other circumstances. He has Present Mic pinned down, knowing that if he pressed his hand down just a little harder his head would crack open like an eggshell. Part of him is tempted to do it, to watch his gray matter splatter across U.A.’s floors–defiled, just like his protege.

But he can’t help Midoriya if he ends up in prison, so he doesn’t.

“He’s probably just spreading rumors because he’s too embarrassed to admit what a whore he’s been.”

That’s what Mic had said when confronted with the information Midoriya gave Yagi the night before, sobbing and nauseous in Yagi's arms as he seemed to confess the horrible things that had been done to him.

This is also the comment that earned Mic a fist sized hole in his office wall, the whirl of force so close to his head that it ripped out some long strands of blonde, shocking away that smug attitude of his.

”H-how dare you come into my office and threaten me like this!” he’d sputtered. ”If you even believed it yourself, you would have just gone to the police!”

Mic digs his fingernails into the arm holding him down while Yagi clutches at Mic’s pants with the other one, making him flinch and squeak something in that grating voice of his as Yagi pinches his balls in the process. Yagi peels away the leather like paper–much like he had done to Mic’s directional speaker a moment ago. He rips a convenient hole into his pants so roughly that Mic’s lower half is briefly yanked into the air with the force of it, leaving his ass and cock exposed.

Yagi just can't think of anything else to do, how else to make Mic see the pain that he’s caused, how else to make him care about it, how else to punish him for it–and apparently, this is the option that doesn’t land you in jail.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, man?!” Mic demands, but his wide, terrified gaze from between Yagi’s thick fingers undercuts his tone. He tries to draw his knees together to hide his soft cock between his thighs, but Yagi easily forces them back down. He can only speculate on the things he did to Midoriya, but surely cornering the poor boy in the locker room didn’t leave him with much modesty. Yagi intends to humiliate Mic similarly.

“You think you can just hurt my boy and get away with it?” Yagi growls through his teeth, shifting his grip around Mic’s thigh and pulling him closer. “Think you can shame and threaten a child you got pregnant into silence and face no consequences?!”

He’d almost walked away at first, having given up on squeezing a confession or at least an apology out of the man, but just as he started to take that first step back, Mic dared to make a cheeky comment about how Midoriya "is a squealer” and that it didn’t surprise him that he'd cried wolf.

Mic gasps as he’s pulled practically upside down, clawing at Yagi’s hands around his thighs.

“Get off me!” he shouts so loud it almost concerns Yagi, but he knows everyone at U.A. has learned to tune out Mic’s shrieking at this point.

Mic seems to realize he can’t pry Yagi’s hands off him and opts to cover his junk instead. It’s not what he’s interested in, anyways. Yagi spits on his hole and smears the saliva around with his thumb.

“Are you serious?!” Mic cries so frantically that his voice cracks as Yagi’s thumbnail scrapes against his ring of muscle, nudging the spit inside. It’s definitely not enough lubrication to keep it from hurting, but it’s just enough to make the fit possible.

Mic places his hands on the floor and pushes, unsuccessfully trying to drag himself backwards out of Yagi’s grasp.

“You come in here and accuse me of some bullshit just to go and do it yourself?!” Mic scoffs as Yagi lowers his legs into his lap and reaches down to undo his own trousers. He’s trying to kick out at him but Yagi’s grip is too firm and it just jostles Mic’s upper half instead.

Yagi has to wonder if this is what Midoriya had looked like when Mic raped him, all terrified and desperately helpless, wide eyed and shaking; the disbelieving and yet pleading edge to his gaze, and the anger on top of it all.

He has to wonder how Mic had the will to continue despite that, even as he proceeds to pull his cock out of his pants.

Compared to Yagi’s, Mic’s cock seems laughably small. He’s large to say the least, but of course, it certainly doesn't help things that Mic is flaccid, meanwhile–while there’s nothing arousing about this situation at all–Yagi's dick seems to know what he has in mind and is already half firm.

“You’re fucking crazy!” he spits, yet Mic’s clearly keeping his voice down. If anyone saw what was happening they’d ask “why” and if they knew why then it would be quickly followed up by a very successful investigation and arrest.

The first couple of attempts to shove his cock inside Mic’s ass are unsuccessful because it’s very much like trying to thread a pencil through a needle. His cock slips away from the pressure he’s forcing behind it and jabs up against Mic’s ballsack, making him jolt and groan.

“It’s not even gonna fit, you fuckin'–”

Mic is cut off by a choked groan and gasp when a well aligned thrust paired with strong hands tugging him downward manages to force the head inside his tight hole. His eyes snap shut as his back arches off the ground, gritting his teeth.

The sight of his pain stirs something ugly deep in Yagi’s heart–satisfaction, followed by a burning, angry desire for more. He clamps his hand over Mic’s mouth and presses forward while simultaneously pulling Mic further down on his cock by his leg. Mic screams under his palm as he’s filled up, free leg spasming and kicking out at him on instinct. His hand snaps outward to swat at Yagi’s face, even though it’s more than a meager distance away and he misses completely. His nails instead catch his upper arm and he digs them in, though they’re too dull to break the skin through the fabric of his shirt.

Yagi presses in as far as he can go, making Mic's flaccid cock squirt precome as his prostate is crushed up against his bladder, then forces another inch or two, watching Mic’s stomach bulge sharply just below his navel.

"Shit…" Yagi shudders at the feeling squeezing around his cock. Part of him wants to wait and adjust, as he’s never been inside someone before and the tightness–warm and alive, not a cock sleeve made for someone of his stature–is a bit overwhelming.

But he’s certain Mic didn’t let Izuku adjust.

Mic cries out sharply as Yagi pulls back then shoves forward, watching the bulge disappear before stretching back out. On the third thrust, Mic’s cries raise an octave and his entire body spasms underneath him as he comes all over himself, squeezing down almost painfully tight around Yagi's cock.

Yagi doesn’t wait for him to catch his breath. Mic trembles underneath him as he continues fucking into him, the glide becoming smoother and smoother due to what Yagi can only assume is blood. Mic scrapes his teeth along his calloused palm, trying and failing to catch the skin between them.

He hopes Mic feels humiliated, laying there with a cock he doesn’t want up his ass and covered in his own come, silenced by someone much larger, much more powerful than him. He hopes he leaves this office feeling just as hollow as Midoriya’s eyes look these days.

As Mic’s muffled screams die down and turn into complaints and overstimulated groans, Yagi removes his hand from around his face to grip him by the hips, holding him steady as he forces his thrusts deeper. Mic’s face is a deep red, though Yagi can’t say if it’s from embarrassment, exertion, or rage. He certainly looks a good deal of all of them as he bears his teeth at him. He then lunges to swipe at his face again, catching his cheek and narrowly missing his eye with his nails, but Mic winces at the motion and falls backwards onto his elbows, Yagi’s cock apparently making the curve of his guts too sharp to bear. He glares up at him from beneath furrowed brows as he eases himself back onto the ground, panting heavily.

The scratch didn’t even hurt, but the fact that Mic has the nerve to try to fight this like he didn’t earn it–that he has the nerve to be angry when he deserves it, just… sends Yagi off again, drawing a quick, hissing breath.

But he's already fucking him, and doing anything more physical would get him arrested–so instead, he wraps his fist around Mic’s cock. Mic’s body jolts at the touch and his eyes go wide like he’s terrified he’s going to rip it off–and he probably should, but instead he begins to pump Mic’s overly sensitive cock mercilessly. Mic sucks in a breath and his hands fly down to Yagi’s fist, fingers digging into his skin as he tries to force his fingers to uncurl from around him.

“You’re a fuh-fucking pervert, man!” he shrieks as though he didn’t do the same thing to Midoriya months ago, back arching sharply.

“You deserve this,” Yagi hisses. “Taking advantage of a poor child who trusted you…”

Mic half-whimpers, half-squeals as Yagi gives his cock a firm squeeze, forcing a clear liquid to spurt out of the tip, before he resumes his jerking in time with his thrusts. Some sinister part of Yagi wants to see that jabbing bulge in Mic's stomach split open around his cock, to watch his bloody tip disappear in and out of the wound with each thrust.

It’s not long before Mic's back is twitching off the floor, his hips bucking up into and half flinching away from Yagi’s fist–a clear sign of an orgasm, yet it’s dry. Yagi doesn’t stop his ministrations, and soon he can feel Mic’s leg tense under his other hand.

“Stop!” he shouts, shoving at his hand around him. Mic grits his teeth and jerks underneath him. He squints his eyes open, looking around the room for anything that could help him, but there’s not much to be found on the floor of a teacher’s office. He does, however, manage to hook his fingers underneath the rim of a nearby waste basket and hurls it at Yagi’s face with a surprising amount of force. Yagi easily slaps it away before it connects, but letting go gives Mic the space he needs to twist himself around onto his hands and knees, only stopped by Yagi’s other hand around his thigh. He kicks his free leg back against Yagi’s chest, trying to pry himself out of his clutches and crawl away.

“Get. Out!” Mic growls through his teeth as he pushes himself away just far enough that Yagi's cock slips out until only the head remains inside him. There’s a thick coat of blood covering his backside and thighs, the coppery scent hitting Yagi abruptly. He bares his teeth, grabbing Mic and flipping him back over to shove him back down onto his cock by his thighs. Mic lets out a choked whine as he’s filled back up, throwing his head back.

Yagi pulls and pushes his body up and down on his cock by his thighs like a sleeve, uncaring that they’re now close enough for Mic to rake his nails across his face and shoulders, digging into the skin through the fabric of his shirt in hopes of slowing his movements or forcing stillness.

It doesn't slow him down, but it does make him angrier, only fueling him to fuck him harder, quicker–not to mention he’s approaching an orgasm of his own. He ruts into him hard each time he pulls Mic downwards against him, trying to milk enough pleasure from something so small to get him all the way there.

He shoves and pulls him harder to compensate for his size, feeling that sensation build despite Mic’s attempts to halt him. He can hear Mic gasp and sputter below him, the breath knocked out of him with each rough thrust into his guts.

Then he feels a snap under his right hand. Mic goes rigid, head thrown back in a clear expression of pain, mouth wide open yet silent–a response he trained hard to develop to avoid deafening others in the line of duty. The injury was unintentional on Yagi’s part (not that he really cares)–but on top of this, Mic squeezes around him so damn tight that he can’t resist fucking into him harder. Mic convulses in pain as Yagi’s hips slam into his injured leg, his mouth open so wide Yagi's surprised that the corners don't split. He doesn’t have as much leverage as he wants without holding onto both of his legs, and as he slams himself back in a true cry begins to bubbles its way out of Mic’s throat–so Yagi clamps a hand around his neck, severing that sound and using it to hold his body steady as he delivers the last series of brutal thrusts he needs to finally come.

Yagi holds him still for several long seconds–maybe even minutes–as he empties himself into his ass, watching that deep bulge in his stomach pulse with each spurt from his cock and oblivious to the way Mic gets more and more frantic underneath him. He scrapes and beats his fists against the arm firmly squeezing his airway shut, and Yagi finally releases him only when his bliss fizzles out, abruptly remembering his mortality.

As he withdraws his cock from his abused hole it releases a pinkish flood, running down his shaking thighs and pooling on the floor, gradually becoming redder as it flows out. Yagi observes Mic’s form, breathing heavily between wheezing coughs on his side–and a small, rational part of his heart twists unpleasantly.

However, the rest of him is satisfied; thinking of Midoriya reminds him that it's exactly what Mic deserves.

“Remember this feeling, Yamada,” Yagi growls, getting his feet under him. “Remember the pain, the humiliation. Remember it for the rest of your life - and keep your filthy hands off my boy.”

Mic scowls at the floor, avoiding his gaze as he clutches his throat.

“Mic, do you have the–”

As Yagi is rising to his feet, Aizawa steps through the door without so much as knocking. He freezes upon looking up from whatever document he’s holding, wide eyed as he takes in the sight–Mic, laying in a pool of his own blood with his pants ripped in half, and Yagi’s blood soaked cock hanging from his pants.

“I–" Aizawa hesitates, apparently at a loss for words. Mic only ducks his head once his similarly shocked expression falls away.

"–I’ll come back later,” he finishes hurriedly, beginning to turn back.

“No need,” Yagi announces, making Aizawa freeze once more. He tucks himself away and readjusts his trousers.

“I was just leaving.”

Yagi's mind is still reeling from anger and ecstasy and pain, and he fails to notice how odd it is that Aizawa merely stiffens. How he doesn't rush to his colleague's aid. How he looks frightened, pointedly averting his gaze to the floor, instead of seething. How Mic doesn’t plead for his help.

Yagi fails to notice how ultimately unsurprised Aizawa is as he brushes past him to leave.

#micmight #non con #grapefruit #long post #my writing #teen pregnancy #unwanted pregnancy #blood #violence #mentions of gore #rape

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winchesterbrotherstan · 5 years ago

Text

Supernatural- Faith (1.12)

just look at this boy he was a BABY im :(

Pairing: N/A, Olive Winchester (OC)

Summary: After a hunt gone wrong, Dean’s heart is left failing, and Olive and Sam will stop at nothing to help their brother. Something dangerous about Olive is revealed

Warnings: cursing, blood-lust, screaming, heart failure, etc

Word Count: 7714

“Whatcha got those amped up to?” I asked Dean as he pulled three tasers from Baby's trunk.

“Hundred thousand volts.” Dean grinned.

I blinked. “Shit.”

“Damn.” Sam huffed.

“Yeah, I want this Rawhead extra fricking crispy. And remember, you only get one shot with these things. So make it count.”

Sam and I nodded as we followed him into the house and down the stairs of the basement. There was a noise coming from the cupboard in the corner, and Dean and Sam squared their shoulders.

“On three.” Dean whispered as he grabbed the handle. “One. Two. Three.” He swung the door open, and inside there was a little boy and girl.

They were balled together, ears covered and eyes wide.

“Is it still here?” Sam asked.

They nodded, and I moved past Sam, crouching in front of them. “Okay. Grab your brother’s hand, come on. We’re gonna get you out of here. Let’s go, let’s go.” I scooped them up, making sure they had a hold on each other as well.

“Go with her.” Dean nodded toward Sam, who followed me up the stairs.

A hand reached out between the boards of the steps and grabbed Sam by the ankles. The children shrieked directly into my ears, and I gasped.

“Sam!” Dean shouted, shooting his taser.

I turned around and grabbed Sam by the wrist, yanking him back to stand. He tossed Dean his taser.

“Take this!”

I could hear Dean taunt the monster as we continued up the stairs. Sam was panting harder than I was, and he pushed me toward the door.

“Get them in the car, go!” He shoved me out onto the front lawn before running back into the house.

I opened the door and dumped the kids into the backseat.

“Stay here, okay?”

They nodded, clearly frightened. I shut the door and inched back toward the house, on high alert.

“Dean!” I heard Sam. “Dean! Come on.”

My eyes widened and I sprinted down to the basement. “Dean!”

He was lying on the floor, eyes shut. The rawhead was dead next to him, and both were in a puddle of water. The taser was still in Dean’s hand.

“Dean.” I whimpered, crashing to my knees next to him and grabbing him by the face.

Sam looked up at me and swallowed hard. I shuddered.

***

“Sir, I’m so sorry to ask…” The receptionist trailed off, looking pained. “There doesn’t seem to be any insurance on file.”

“Right.” Sam blinked. “Uh, okay.” He flipped through his wallet and pulled out a card.

“Okay, Mr. Burkovitz.” She read off as she hit her keyboard.

I sniffled as two cops came toward us.

“Look, we can finish this up later.”

“No, no.” Sam shook his head. “It’s okay. We were just taking a shortcut through the neighborhood. And, uh, the windows were rolled down, so we heard screaming when we drove past the house. And so we stopped, ran in.”

“And you found the kids in the basement?” The cop asked.

I nodded, and Sam gave them a verbal response.

“Well thank god you did.”

I caught sight of the doctor walking toward us. I patted Sam and nodded toward him.

“Excuse us.”

“Sure. Thanks for your help.”

“Hey doc, is he…” I trailed off, feeling my eyes brew with tears.

Sam reached me, grabbing me by the shoulders.

“He’s resting.”

I let out a breath.

“And?”

The doctor hesitated. “The electrocution triggered a heart attack. Pretty massive, I’m afraid. His heart, it-it’s damaged.”

I felt my chest clench as Sam asked something. The doctor answered, but I couldn’t focus. I stared at the doctor’s shoes, snapping back into reality when I heard the doctor speak again.

“We can’t work miracles. I really am sorry.”

The tears came back and I took a deep breath. Sam grabbed me again, pulling me into his side. He mumbled something to the doctor before pulling me away, toward Dean’s room.

“Does he know?” I asked.

Sam sighed. “Yeah. He does.”

I tugged away from him and ran into Dean’s room. I let out a strained breath. He was pale, so so pale. He had dark circles under his eyes, and they were glazed over as he stared at the TV.

“De…” I whined.

“Have you ever actually watched daytime TV?” Dean scoffed, sounding horribly weak. “It’s terrible.”

Sam padded in behind me, dropping into a chair. “Dean, we talked to your doctor.”

“That fabric softener teddy bear. Oh, I’m gonna hunt that little bitch down.” Dean growled.

“Dean.” I whispered, my heart aching.

He finally looked up, clicking the TV off with a sigh. “Yeah. Alright, well, looks you guys are gonna have to leave town without me.”

I scoffed as Sam shook his head. “What are you talking about? We’re not gonna leave you here.”

“Hey, you better take care of that car. Or I swear, I will haunt your ass.” Dean stared at Sam, serious.

“I don’t think that’s funny.” Sam shook his head.

“Oh, come on. It’s a little funny.” Dean tried to laugh, but he only wheezed.

Nobody said anything, and Sam looked away, fighting tears. I broke, letting out a sob as I looked from him to Dean. Seeing him so weak sent me into panic mode, and I let out another cry. Dean sighed and sat up, opening his arms. I made a bee-line for him, and he patted the free space on the bed. I crawled next to him, sobbing into his neck as he wrapped his arms around me.

“It’s gonna be okay, Ol.” He whispered.

I only cried harder, and I could hear Sam sniffle.

“Look, guys. It’s a dangerous gig. I drew the short straw. That’s it. End of story.”

“Don’t talk like that, Dean. We still have options.” Sam shook his head.

Dean lowered his voice, as if whispering wouldn’t let me hear him. “What options? Burial or cremation. And I know that’s not easy. But I’m gonna die, and you can’t stop it.”

I whimpered again, and his arms tightened around me once more. I heard Sam scoff.

“Watch us.”

***

“Hey, Dad. It’s Sam. Uh… you probably won’t even get this, but uh… it’s Dean.” Sam let out a sob and I sunk further into the floor, leaning against the door.

I had been in the bathroom for the last thirty minutes, trying to settle myself while Sam tried to reach Dad.

“He’s sick, and the doctors… they’re saying there’s nothing that they can do… um, but, uh… They don’t know the things we know, right? So, don’t worry, Dad, cause… uh, Olive and I are gonna do whatever it takes… to make him better.” He sniffled. “Alright. I just… I just wanted to let you know.”

I stood and opened the door, wiping at my tears. Sam sniffled, looking up at me. My heart cracked and I ran to him, flinging myself into his arms. We hadn’t found much so far, and I was horrified.

I could live without Dad. I had lived a lot of my life without Dad. I could live without Sam. I had learned to live without him. But Dean? I had said it before and I would say it again. I had a dependency on Dean. Dean had raised me. I hadn’t been away from him for long periods of time. I didn’t know how to live without him, and I didn’t want to learn either. Sam held me against him as my sobs died down.

There was a knock on the door and our heads both snapped up. Sam and I detangled ourselves and wiped at our tears. I snatched the knife from under Dean’s pillow and slid it up my sleeve. Sam looked at me over his shoulder and I nodded, clearing my throat. He pulled the door open, only to reveal Dean leaning against the frame, looking like absolute shit.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Sam was confused, surprised, and overjoyed to see him, all in one.

“I checked myself out.” Dean spoke.

“What? Are you insane?” I asked, dumping the knife onto the bed and running to him.

He immediately slipped from the frame and leaned against me with a grunt. I held onto him, trying to keep him steady as we took baby steps toward the table.

“Well, I’m not gonna die in a hospital where the nurses aren’t even hot.” He scowled.

Sam huffed a laugh and shut the door. I helped Dean sit in a chair and pulled another one up right next to him, looking him over. He was still pale, still had bags under his eyes, and still looked horrible.

“You know, this whole I-laugh-in-the-face-of-death-thing? It’s crap.” Sam settled into the third chair. “I can see right through it.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Dean brushed him off. “Have you even slept? You two look worse than me.”

“Uh, no, actually, we’ve been up for the last three days. Sam’s been scouring the internet, I’ve been calling every contact in Dad’s journal.” I kept staring at Dean.

“For what?”

“For a way to help you. One of Dad’s friends, Joshua. He called back, told Olive about a guy in Nebraska. A specialist.”

Dean scowled. “You’re not gonna let me die in peace, are you?”

I cupped his cheeks and put my forehead to his. “We aren’t gonna let you die, period.”

“Olive’s right. We’re going.” Sam crossed his arms over his chest.

***

“Ol, wake up. We’re here.” Sam shook my shoulder.

I grumbled and stretched out, pushing myself out of the car. Dean was leaning against it with a drained look on his face. I held a hand out for him and he took it. Sam scoffed at him and Dean turned and glared. I didn’t have to see his face to know what he was saying.

I’m trying to make her feel better.

“Man, you guys are lying bastards. Thought you said we were going to see a doctor.” Dean scowled as he looked around.

We were parked in a square of muddy grass, a tent pitched and well lit. The sign next to it read: The Church of Roy LeGrange. Faith Healer. Witness the Miracle!

“I think we said specialist.”

“Look, Dean, this guy’s supposed to be the real deal.” Sam coaxed as we inched toward the tent.

“I can’t believe you brought me here to see some guy who heals people out of a tent.” Dean scoffed.

A woman with an umbrella passed by and made a face at Dean. “Reverend LeGrange is a great man.”

“Yeah, that’s nice.” Dean snorted.

“I have a right to protest. This man is a fraud. And he’s milking all these people out of their hard-earned money.” A man was standing with a cop, arguing.

“Sir, this is a place of worship. Let’s go, move it.”

“I take it he’s not part of the flock.” Dean mumbled to me, and I giggled.

“When people see something they can’t explain, there’s controversy.”

“I mean, come on guys, a faith healer?”

Sam shrugged. “Maybe it’s time to have a little faith, Dean.”

“You know what I’ve got faith in?” Dean pulled me closer to his side as he spoke. “Reality. Knowing what’s really going on.”

“Dean, how can you be a skeptic? With the things we see everyday?”

“Exactly. We see them, we know they’re real.” Dean hissed.

“De, I think what Sam is trying to say is that if we know evil’s out there, how can we not believe that there’s good out there too?”

“Because I’ve seen what evil does to good people, Ollie.” Dean sighed.

“Maybe God works in mysterious ways.” A young woman spoke, overhearing our conversation.

Dean’s head turned and he checked her out, a smile growing on his pale face. “Maybe he does. I think you just turned me around on the subject.”

The young woman laughed. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

“I’m Dean. That’s Sam, this is Olive.” Dean held his hand out.

“Layla. So, if you’re not a believer, then why are you here?”

“Well, apparently my brother and sister here believe enough for the three of us.”

An older woman approached, putting her arm around Layla. “Come on, Layla. It’s about to start.”

The women smiled at the three of us before disappearing into the tent. Dean huffed. “Well, I bet you she can work in some mysterious ways.”

I whacked the back of his head and Sam rolled his eyes as he led the way into the tent. There was another sign that read: Welcome All Faiths. True Believers Revival. The tent was full of people finding seats, a small stage at the front with a lectern and candles on it. Dean’s eyes scanned the place while Sam’s scanned the seats and I looked at the people. It was a weird vibe, and I did not care for it one bit, but we were here to get Dean better, not make friends.

“Yeah, peace, love, and trust all over.” Dean snorted.

Sam and I followed his gaze, landing on a security camera. Sam and I looked at each other and shrugged. Dean wanted to take a seat near the back, but Sam put an arm around him and pushed him forward.

“Come on.”

“Don’t. What are you doing? Let’s just sit in the back.” Dean pleaded.

“We’re sitting up front.”

“What?” Dean’s green eyes widened. “Why?”

“Come on.” Sam pushed again.

“Oh, come on. Sam. Olive.”

“Dean, just trust us.” I squeezed his hand and pulled him to sit in one of the three empty seats behind Layla and the woman, who was probably her mother.

“Perfect.” Sam grinned at me.

“Yeah, perfect.” Dean repeated, voice dripping with sarcasm.

We pushed Dean to the aisle seat, leaving me sandwiched between my brothers. An older man with sunglasses was being helped to the lectern by a woman.

“Each morning, my wife Sue Ann reads me the news. Never seems good, does it?”

The crowd roared in agreement, and I shrunk down in my seat. Both Sam and Dean noticed. Sam’s hand came out to hold mine and Dean wrapped an arm around my shoulders.

“Seems like there’s always someone committing some immoral, unspeakable act.”

As he spoke, I stared up at Dean, worried. I hoped this man could fix him. I couldn’t lose him.

“But I say to you, God is watching. God rewards the good, and He punishes the corrupt.”

Dean’s eyes were set on the man, narrowed. He was taking everything in, judging it all. I sniffled and snuggled into his side. I wasn’t entirely sure what we had just walked into, none of us were. I was panicked about everything.

“Is is the Lord who does the healing here, friends. The Lord who guides me in choosing who to heal by helping me see into people’s hearts.”

The crowd kept agreeing, and Dean leaned to whisper to Sam over my head. “Yeah, and into their wallets.”

“You think so, young man?”

My heart dropped into my stomach as the crowd fell silent. I looked between Sam and Dean, panicked. Dean grew embarrassed and he cleared his throat.

“Sorry.” He mumbled.

“No, no. Don’t be. Just watch what you say around a blind man. We’ve got real sharp ears.” LeGrange laughed, as did the crowd. “What’s your name, son?”

Dean looked down at me, hesitant. I nodded, and he cleared his throat again.

“Dean.”

“Dean.” LeGrange nodded to himself. “I want you to come up here with me.”

The crowd lost it, clapping like there was no tomorrow. Layla and her mother stayed still, and I tilted my head. What was their deal?

“No, it’s okay.” Dean shook his head.

Sam and I looked at him in disbelief. “What are you doing?”

“You’ve come here to be healed, haven’t you?”

Dean hesitated once more. “Well, yeah, but uh… maybe you should just pick somebody else.”

I glared at Dean, and he cowered away from me. It was obvious that he didn’t like being on the receiving end of the look.

“Go.” Sam hissed.

“Oh, no. I didn’t pick you, Dean. The Lord did.”

The crowd got louder, more excited.

“Dean Michael Winchester. Get up there. Right now. I will not live a life without you.” I spoke through gritted teeth, and Dean sighed as he slowly got to his feet. Sue Ann helped him onto the stage, pushing him to stand right in front of LeGrange.

“You ready?”

“Look, no disrespect, but uh… I’m not exactly a believer.” Dean grimaced.

LeGrange only smiled at him. “You will be, son. You will be.” He turned to the crowd. “Pray with me, friends.”

As the crowd lifted their hands to the air, Sam and I looked at each other. He reached for my hands and tugged me close to him. We stayed silent as LeGrange put on one on Dean’s shoulder and the other on the side of his head. Sam shut his eyes, but I couldn’t bring myself to do the same. I watched as Dean’s eyes glazed over and he fell to his knees. I felt myself shaking, and Sam was mumbling something, eyes squeezed shut.

“God, please.” It was a whisper.

I looked back to see Dean shaking. His eyes rolled into the back of his head and he fell onto his back.

“Dean!” I ripped myself from Sam and bolted out into the aisle, jumping onto the stage.

The crowd was going crazy, clapping, cheering, whistling. Sam was on my tail, grabbing Dean by the front of the hoodie. Dean’s eyes burst open and he gasped.

“Dean, say something!” Sam begged.

Dean only stared at something behind us. I turned, but the only thing there was LeGrange. I grabbed Dean by the back of the neck and tried to get him to look at me.

“Dean.”

He blinked, then pulled me into a hug, crashing into me. Sam joined us as he fell to his knees. I began to cry, and Dean held me tighter as Sam wrapped his arms around us.

***

“So, you really feel okay?” Sam asked.

Dean looked unhappy, but after last night, he said he felt okay. “I feel fine, Sam.” He hissed.

“Well, according to all your tests, there’s nothing wrong with your heart. No sign there ever was. Not that a man your age should be having heart trouble, but, still it’s strange it does happen.” The doctor spoke as he walked into the room.

Dean recoiled. “What do you mean, strange?”

“Well, just yesterday, a young guy like you, twenty-seven, athletic. Out of nowhere, heart attack.” The doctor shook his head.

Dean seemed to think for a moment. “Thanks, Doc.”

The doctor said it was no problem as he left the room. Dean shook his head.

“That’s odd.”

I pushed myself up onto the bed next to Dean. “Maybe it’s a coincidence. People’s hearts give out all the time, De.”

“No, they don't.” Dean shook his head again.

“Look, Dean, do we really have to look this one in the mouth? Why can’t we just be thankful that the guy saved your life and move on?”

“Because I can’t shake this feeling, that’s why.” Dean mumbled.

I grabbed Dean by the cheek and turned him toward me. “What feeling, Dean?”

He sighed. “When I was healed, I just… I felt wrong.” He sighed, looking at me. “I felt cold. And for a second… I saw someone. This, uh, this old man.” He looked down. “And I’m telling you guys, it was a spirit.”

I nodded. I knew he had been staring at something, I just hadn’t seen it myself. Sam sighed.

“But if there was something there, don’t you think Olive and I would’ve seen it too? I mean, I’ve been seeing an awful lot of things lately.”

I looked at him. I hadn’t been seeing anything but nightmares as of late.

“Well excuse me, psychic wonder. But you’re just gonna need a little faith on this one.” Dean snipped at Sam, who blinked.

“I think what Dean means is that he’s been hunting long enough to trust a feeling like this.” I spoke to Sam.

“Yeah, alright.” Sam sighed. “So what do you guys wanna do?”

Dean slung an arm around my shoulders. “I want you two to go check out heart attack guy. I’m gonna visit the reverend.”

***

“I’m telling ya, he seemed healthy.” The employee shook his head. “Swam every day. Didn’t smoke. So a heart attack? It just seemed kinda bizarre.”

“And you said he was running? Right before he collapsed?” I asked.

“Yeah, yeah. He was freaking out. He said that something was, uh, was after him.”

Sam and I glanced at each other.

“Did he say what?”

“Well, thin air is what. I mean, there wasn’t anything there.”

“Alright, thanks.” Sam sighed.

I looked up at the clock. Dean said he wouldn’t take long, but he did take Baby, so Sam and I were trying to make it to the motel before the rain hit.

“Hey, uh, your clock is busted.” I pointed.

“Oh yeah, we uh, can’t get it working. Just froze at 4:17.”

I swallowed hard and Sam turned back. “Is that the same time Marshall died?”

“Yeah.” The guy snorted. “How’d you know?”

***

Dean tossed his keys onto the bed as he shut the door with his foot. Sam was on his laptop, and I was curled up next to him, knees to my chest.

“What did you guys find out?” Dean asked as he pulled his jacket off.

“We’re sorry.” I mumbled.

“What? Sorry about what, baby?” Dean grew instantly concerned, coming to kneel in front of me.

I bit my lip and Sam sighed. “Marshall Hall died at 4:17.”

Dean blinked. “The exact time I was healed.”

I nodded. “We’re sorry. We didn’t know.”

Dean looked from Sam and to me. I sniffled, blinking back tears.

“Oh, sweetheart. It’s okay. It’s alright. Come here.” He stood and scooped me out of the seat, taking it and placing me in his lap.

“We put together a list of everyone Roy’s healed.”

“Six people over the past year, so we cross-checked them with the local obituaries.”

Sam sighed. “Every time someone was healed, someone else died.”

“And each time, the victim died of the same symptom LeGrange was healing.” I looked up at Dean.

He nodded. “So someone’s healed of cancer, someone else dies of cancer?”

Sam nodded. “Somehow, LeGrange… he’s trading a life for another.”

“Wait, wait, wait. So Marshall Hall died to save me?” Dean asked.

I looked back down and Sam’s shoulders fell. “Dean, the guy probably would’ve died anyway.”

“And somebody else would’ve been healed. Not you.” I spoke softly, looking up at Dean again.

“You guys never should’ve brought me here.”

“Dean, we were just trying to save your life.” Sam pleaded.

“But now some guy is dead because of me.”

“Dean, we didn’t know.” I stressed. “We didn’t know. Look, if we hadn’t come here, we wouldn’t have found out! And this would’ve kept happening over and over and over again.” I sighed.

“Olive, what are you saying?” Dean looked down at me with furrowed eyebrows.

“She’s saying that we found this case because you were hurt. Without you being healed, more people would’ve kept dying.”

“The thing we don’t understand is how is he doing it? How’s he trading a life for a life?”

Dean shook his head. “Oh, he’s not doing it. No, something else is doing it for him.”

“What do you mean, De?”

“The old man I saw on stage…” He sighed. “I didn’t wanna believe it, but deep down I knew.”

“You knew?” Sam blinked. “What are you talking about?”

I sighed. “There’s only one thing that can give and take life like that.”

“What? What are you guys talking about?”

“We’re dealing with a reaper, Sams.”

Sam blinked. “You guys really think it’s The Grim Reaper? Like… angel of death, collect your soul, the whole deal?”

Dean and I shook our heads, practically in unison. “No, no, no, not the reaper. A reaper.”

“What?”

I reached over and snatched the laptop, pulling up the Wikipedia page for reapers. “There’s reaper law in pretty much every culture on Earth. It goes by hundreds of different names, but it’s possible that there’s more than one of them.”

“But Dean said he saw a guy in a suit.” Sam’s eyebrows furrowed.

“What, you think he should’ve been rocking a black robe? Sam, how do you guys know what time Marshall died?”

I sighed. “The clock stopped. Reapers stop time. And you can only see them when they’re coming at you. Which is why Dean could see it and we couldn’t.” I explained.

Sam shook his head. “Maybe.”

“It’s not maybe, Sam. There’s nothing else it could be. The question is, how is Roy controlling it?”

“That cross.” Sam mumbled.

Dean and I looked at each other, then back to Sam. “What?”

“There was this cross. I noticed it in the church and I knew I had seen it before.” Sam began to tear through the papers on the table, snorting when he found what he wanted. “Here.”

“A tarot?” Dean asked as I took the card, holding it where we could both see it.

“It makes sense. A tarot dates back to the early Christian era. When some priests were still using magic. And a few of them veered into the dark stuff?”

I nodded, catching on. “Necromancy and how to push death away. How to cause it.”

“So Roy’s using black magic to bind the reaper?”

Sam snorted. “If he is then he’s riding the whirlwind.”

“It’s like putting a dog leash on a great white.”

Dean nodded. “Okay.” He tapped my side and I slid off into the other chair as he went for a beer. “Okay, then we stop Roy.”

“How?”

“You know how.”

“Wait, what the hell are you saying, Dean? We can’t kill Roy.”

“Sam, the guy’s playing God. Deciding who lives and who dies? That’s a monster in my book.”

“No, we can’t Dean. Then we’re no better than he is.”

Dean crossed his arms over his chest. “Okay, fine. We can’t kill Roy, we can’t kill death itself. Any ideas, kids?”

Sam and I looked at each other and sighed. “Black magic is about spells…” I trailed off, unsure of what I was getting at.

“That’s it!” Sam jumped. “If he’s using some sort of spell on the reaper, we can figure out what it is.”

“And figure out how to break it.” I grinned.

***

“If Roy’s using a spell, there might be a book.” I said as we bounded out of the car.

“Sam, see if you can find it. Take Olive with you.” Dean checked his watch. “Hurry up too, the service starts in fifteen minutes. I’ll try to stall roy.”

The man from earlier, who had been fighting with the cop, held a pamphlet out to Dean. “Roy LeGrange is a fraud. He’s no healer.”

I snorted a laugh, and Dean took the paper.

“Amen brother.”

“You keep up the good work.” Sam clapped his shoulder.

***

Sam got down on one knee and clasped his hands together. “Up you go.”

I carefully stepped onto him and got a grasp on the window sill, pulling myself up the rest of the way. I tumbled into the house quietly, Sam following without a word. LeGrange and his wife had just left.

“Split up?” I asked.

He shook his head. “No, better if we stick together.”

I nodded as we looked around. Sam must’ve noticed something about a certain book, because he went straight for it, pulling it off the shelf. I went for the desk, pulling out drawers and shuffling through papers. Sam scoffed, then gasped.

“What is it?” I looked up.

“Found it, I think.” He said.

I went to his side as he flipped the small book open. Inside, there was a picture of a skeleton reaper, a picture of the cross he mentioned. Newspaper clippings on the people who had died. Marshall Law, who had died for Dean, was an openly gay schoolteacher. Another woman, found dead in the woods, was an abortion rights advocate. A third clipping slipped from the book and onto the floor. While Sam kept flipping, I bent down and grabbed it.

“Shit.” I mumbled.

“What is it?” Sam looked at me.

I showed him the paper. It was the man who was handing out pamphlets. David Wright.

“Call Dean.” Sam ordered, fishing for the keys in his pocket. “Now.”

I dialed Dean’s number as Sam gathered the book and the clippings. He nodded toward the window, and I hoisted myself over the ledge with a grunt as Dean picked up.

“Hey, pumpkin. Whatcha got?”

“He’s choosing victims he sees as immoral. And we found his next target. Remember that protestor?”

“Parking lot pamphlet guy?”

“Yeah, him. Sam and I can find him, but you can’t let LeGrange heal anyone, alright?”

“Yeah, alright. Be careful.”

“Always. Love you.”

“Love you guys too.”

Sam grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me alongside him, rushing to the car.

***

“Help!” There was a scream, and Sam’s eyes bugged out of his head.

“Where?”

I turned, spinning on my toes to see Wright running around a car.

“Help! Help me! Please!”

“Where is he?” Sam sprinted his way, grabbing him by the shoulders.

“Right there!” Wright screamed.

I flipped the video camera open and aimed it to where he pointed as Sam dragged Wright with us.

“Bug, anything?”

“Nope! Gonna have to go off his word.” I let the camera fall to the side and cocked the shotgun.

“Where is he now?”

“There!” He pointed behind Sam.

“Duck!” I ordered as I aimed.

I shot, and nothing happened.

“He’s gone.”

“What?”

My phone buzzed, and I flipped it open.

“Okay, I did it. I stopped LeGrange.”

I nodded. “Okay. Okay, David, I think it’s okay.”

He nodded, turning around. He screamed, and I snapped up to see the ugliest, wrinkliest old man I had ever seen, as tall as Sam, sticking his hand into Wright’s head.

“Dean! It didn’t work! Reaper’s still coming!” I squeaked as I shot again.

The reaper looked at me and hissed, pushing his hand further into Wright’s head. I panted, horrified.

“What? I stopped him!”

“I’m telling you, it didn’t work! LeGrange must not be the one controlling this thing.” I whimpered. “Dean, I can see him.”

“Shit. Shit, okay. Okay. So if it’s not Roy, then who the hell is it?” Dean became frantic, and I took another shot.

It did absolutely nothing to the reaper, but he seemed angry as all hell. Sam shook his hand in front of my face.

“Olive, what the hell are you looking at?”

“Sammy…” I gulped. “I think I pissed him off.”

“Sue Ann.” I heard Dean grumble, then a thud.

The line went dead, and Sam grabbed me by the shoulders, trying to pull me into him and protect me. The reaper took its hand away from Wright and stared at us. He blinked before turning away and vanishing. I let out a breath as Sam moved to help Wright get up.

“I got you. I got you.”

“Thank god.” Wright panted.

***

“So Roy really believes.” Sam sighed.

He was criss-cross on his bed, in flannel pajama pants and an old shirt. He was tired, leaning back on his arms as we brainstormed.

“I don’t think he has any idea what his wife’s doing.” Dean shook his head, running a hand through my hair.

He was sitting up in his bed, back against the headboard. I was laying down next to him, my head resting on his lap and my arms curled against my chest.

“We found the book.” I mumbled, pulling it out of my back pocket and holding it out to Dean. “Hidden in their library. Written by a priest who went dark side. Binding spell in there for trapping a reaper.”

Dean sighed. “Must be a hell of a spell.”

“Yeah.” Sam snorted. “You gotta build a black alter with seriously dark stuff. Bones, human blood. To cross a line like that, a preacher’s wife… Black magic. Murder. Evil.”

“Desperate.” I cut him off as I looked up at Dean, who was still smoothing my hair back. “Her husband was dying and she didn’t have anything to save him.”

Dean nodded. “She was using the binding spell to keep the reaper away from Roy.”

“Cheating death. Literally.” Sam sighed.

“Yeah, but Roy’s alive, so why is she still using the spell?” Dean asked.

“Right. Power went to her head, now she’s forcing the reaper to kill people she thinks are immoral.” I closed my eyes and sighed.

“May God save us from half the people who think they’re doing God's work.” Dean scowled.

“De, we have to break that binding spell.” I opened my eyes and forced myself to sit up.

Dean nodded as he flipped through the book, stopping at a picture of the cross. “Sue Ann had a coptic cross like this. When she dropped it, you guys said the reaper backed off.”

“So you’re thinking we gotta find the cross? Or destroy the altar?”

Dean nodded again. “Maybe both.” He sighed. “Whatever we do, we better do it soon, or he’s healing Layla tonight.”

***

“That’s Layla’s car. She’s already here.” Sam spoke as Dean put the car into park.

“Yeah.” He nodded, sad.

“Dean…” I trailed off, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“You know if Roy would’ve picked Layla instead of me she’d be here right now. And if she’s not healed tonight she’s gonna die in a couple of months.”

I sighed, and Sam spoke. “What’s happening to her is horrible. But what’re you gonna do? Let somebody else die to save her? You said it yourself, Dean. You can’t play God.”

Dean said nothing, and I squeezed his shoulder. He reached up and placed his hand over mine. I pressed a kiss to the side of his head before getting out of the car. Dean and Sam did the same, and we shut the three doors at the same time, trying to make the least noise possible.

Dean still looked sad. I held my hand out for him as we snuck towards the tent. He took it with a sigh as Sam peeled back the curtain and we peeked in.

Layla and her mother, along with a small group of people, were sitting with LeGrange.

“Gather round, please, everybody gather round. Come in closer, come on up.”

“Where’s Sue Ann?” I whispered.

“House.” Sam answered, letting the curtain fall back as he stood straight.

We walked slowly over to the house, and I was thankful that the grass made our footsteps disappear. We ducked next to the side of the porch, hidden by a few bushes.

“You two go find Sue Ann, I’ll catch up.” Dean pushed me away, into Sam.

Sam grabbed me by the shoulders, tugging me to stand in front of him as Dean shuffled away. “What are you gonna…”

“Hey!” Dean shouted, attracting the attention of two men coming down the stairs. “You gonna put that fear of God in me?” He taunted, moving his hips from side to side like a matador waving a flag at a bull.

The men dropped their coffees and ran at Dean, who immediately took off.

“Come on.” Sam whispered, grabbing my hand and pulling me toward the stairs.

He pushed the door open. The entire house was silent and dark. I shivered. This place gave me worse vibes than the tent did.

“Where is she?” I whispered, and Sam shook his head as we turned around, trying to find her.

Sam saw something and grabbed me by the wrist. I peeked over his shoulder to see cracks of light coming from the basement door. He squared his shoulders as he led us toward the door. He licked his lips and looked at me over his shoulder. He put a finger up to his lips.

Stay quiet.

I nodded, holding his hand as he slipped inside, holding the door open for me with his foot. He picked me up by the waist and set me down in front of him on the steps, shutting the door softly. I padded down the stairs, stopping at the front of the room. There was a candle-lit altar littered with dead animals. Horns, blood, eyeballs, everything you could imagine. I felt bile rise in my throat, and it my eyes burned with hatred when I saw the center of the altar.

It was a photo of Dean, obviously pulled from the security camera from before he was healed. His face was crossed out. In blood. Sam gasped from beside me, and there was the click of a heel.

“I gave your brother life and I can take it away.” Sue Ann hissed.

“You fucking bitch!” I shouted, running at her as Sam flipped the altar over.

I caught a hold of her arm, nails raking down her skin, but she kicked at me, landing me in the ankle, and hard. An animal-like growl left my throat and I went crashing to the ground. I tore skin off her arm, and it was left hanging in my hand as she closed the door and put a wooden beam in front of it. Sam moved me aside and shoved as hard as he could, but the door stayed locked.

“Can’t you kids see? The Lord chose me to reward the just and punish the wicked. And your brother is wicked and he deserves to die just as Layla deserves to live. It is God’s will.” She cackled, and blood surged in my veins.

I wasn’t upset. I wasn’t angry. I was hungry for her blood. I wanted to rip her limb from fucking limb and watch the life leave her eyes as I did. The emotions inside me were too strong to be human, but I didn’t care. I wanted Dean safe, and I wanted Sue Ann gone forever.

“Goodbye, Sam. Goodbye, Olive.”

Sam looked around the room, trying to find something to help us break down the lock. I growled again and threw myself at it with the full weight of my body. I heard a crack, and I didn’t know if it was my bones or the beam, but it was something.

“Olive, no!” Sam shouted, but it was too late.

I threw myself at it again. The wood splintered.

“Olive, we can find another way out of here!” Sam shouted, shaking me by the shoulders.

I understood what he was saying. I was processing his words. But I was so angry, so utterly fucking enraged, that I slapped his hands away and went back to the door, slamming my shoulder against it. A splinter embedded itself in my shoulder and I grunted, gritting my teeth so hard they felt like they would snap.

“Olive!”

“Shut up!” I howled, throwing myself against the door one last time.

The beam cracked, and the doors swung open. I stood, panting. Sam stared at me and said something, but I no longer understood. I spit the blood that had made its way to my mouth and let out a huff.

“Dean.”

It didn’t sound like me. It sounded like some badly-edited creature from an 80s horror movie, but I knew what it meant. I wouldn’t be able to stop until Dean was safe. I turned on my heel and ran in the direction of the tent, leaving Sam to stare at me.

I moved as fast as I could, which seemed faster than normal. Sue Ann was hidden beside the tent, chanting something while she held up the cross in one hand. She had a bottle of blood in the other hand.

She screamed as I snapped the cross over my knee, then smacked the blood out of her hand, leaving it to shatter on the ground. I stood in front of her, panting with my teeth bared.

“My God, what have you done!”

“He’s not your God.” Sam spat as I tried to lunge at her.

I wanted blood. Her blood. I wanted to rip her to pieces.

“Olive! Olive, no!” Sam caught me by the waist, pulling me back. “No! No! Olive, stop!” He shouted as he turned me over and grabbed me by the face.

He stared, eyes wide. “Olive, go find Dean.”

I only stared back, panting. I wanted to kill her, and it was the only thing I could think about. He tucked my hair behind my ears and knelt down to be eye-level with me. “Dean.”

I nodded. “Dean.”

It was the same voice, that of a horrible creature, but it didn’t matter. What mattered now was Dean. I sprinted across the parking lot. A car pulled out in front of me, and the horn honked, but I was so focused on Dean that I jumped onto the hood and slid over it.

“Baby!” I heard Dean.

“Dean!” I screamed.

The other voice was scaring me.

Dean. Dean. Dean.

“Sweetheart! Oh, princess! Come here, Ollie.” Dean was within reach, arms outstretched.

I jumped into them, wrapping my arms and legs around him.

“Dean.” Still not me.

I breathed. “Dean.” More like me.

“Dean.”

It became my voice again, and my head started pounding. Dean held me in his grip, rocking me back and forth as I calmed down.

“Hey. You okay?”

It was Sam.

“Hell of a week.”

“Yeah. Come on, we gotta get going.”

I blinked, feeling drained. Dean kissed the side of my head, and the stupid voice popped back in.

Dean’s safe. You can rest now.

***

“Dean, I’m telling you. It wasn’t her. It wasn’t Olive. Okay, whatever the hell is was was out for blood. The way she attacked… I’ve never seen anything attack like before in my entire life.” The middle Winchester presses as he peeks in the rear view mirror.

The youngest of the three is sleeping peacefully in the backseat, one boy’s jacket wrapped around her and the other under her head like a pillow. She’s been out for the last few hours. After they stopped the reaper, after she knew Dean was safe, Olive fell into a dead sleep.

“Sam, you don’t know what you’re talking about.” Dean’s tone is firm.

It’s a warning.

“Dean, come on! It’s like she wasn’t human!”

“Quiet.” Dean hisses.

He’ll be damned if Olive wakes up because of this, damned if she finds out this way. She doesn’t know.

“The hell do you mean, wasn’t human? We raised her, we know for a fact that she’s human.” Dean speaks through gritted teeth.

“But Dean, the-”

“The what? The fangs? The look in her eyes? The voice? You don’t think I’ve seen her like that? Seen her out for fucking blood, Sam?” Dean cuts him off and pulls into a motel parking lot.

It’s late. He’s tired, and he wants this conversation to be over. Sam gasps as realization settles in.

“You know something.”

“I don’t know what you think I know, Sam, but I can promise that I don’t know jack shit.” Dean jams a finger into his younger brother’s chest.

“Fine. But the next time that demon comes out to play and skins someone, it’s on you.” Sam huffs.

It’s a trap. He didn’t mention that Olive ripped skin off Sue Ann’s arm.

“She’s not a demon and she can’t skin anybody.” Dean snaps, and is filled with immediate regret.

Sam shakes his head. “You do know something.”

Dean sighs. He turns around to look at Olive. She’s still dead asleep, snoring and drooling like a baby. He sighs again. He motions to Sam and steps out of the car. Sam follows, and they meet at the trunk of the car. Dean hoists himself onto it, and Sam leans against it.

“What is she, Dean?”

Dean shakes his head. “She’s a kid. She’s a baby. My baby. She’s my responsibility, Sam. That’s what she is.”

“Dean, please. Just tell me what she is. She’s not human. That much is obvious.”

Dean shakes his head once more and looks up to the sky, tears in his eyes.

“Dean.”

“I can’t tell you, Sammy. You gotta understand.”

Sam scoffs. “Dean, she’s dangerous.”

“The hell she is!” Dean raises his voice, and this time it’s enough to wake Olive.

She shifts in the backseat, her eyes cracking open. Her brothers don’t notice.

“Dean-”

“She won’t hurt anybody. Okay? Not anybody that isn’t trying to hurt us.”

“What?”

Dean sighs again, and Olive strains to listen.

“It only happens when one of us is about to die. When she knows for sure that something she can physically stop is about to kill us.”

Sam sighs, and Dean shakes his head, tears falling down his face.

“Look Sam, that's all I can tell you.”

“What is she?” Sam asks again.

Olive’s heart thumps in her chest. Sam is scared of her now. She hears Dean tell Sam to stop asking.

“I’m not gonna tell you.”

Sam scoffs, and Olive’s eyes threaten to fill with tears. Her nose burns. She can feel it coming.

“Dean, I love her, you know that, but monsters can’t be good. You know that. Push comes to shove, one day we will have to-”

“Don’t you fucking dare say that to me.” Dean cuts him off, and Olive finally begins to cry.

“She’s my kid. She doesn’t know. All she knows is that she gets protective. Now, she’s my baby, and I’m never gonna lay a hand on her. You hear me?”

“Dean-”

“And neither will you. Do you fucking understand me?”

“Dean-”

“Sam.” Dean snarls. “Do you understand me?”

Sam sighs, and Olive pops up in her seat. Dean whacks Sam’s arm upon seeing her. Sam mumbles an agreement, and Dean makes his way to the back door of the car, opening it.

“Morning, princess.”

Olive sniffs as Dean lifts her out of the car. She is drained, exhausted. Dean shoots Sam a look. The conversation is over, and he has no plans of starting it ever again.

Previous Ep: Scarecrow (1.11)

Next Ep: Route 666 (1.13)

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alteridolriley · 5 years ago

Text

To The Poison Named Loneliness - Chapter Two

Story Summary: Patton is about to start high school and he doesn't want to start it in the wrong body. Born as Patricia, Patton wants to change, but his strict mother wants nothing to do it. With the help of some family and friends, he'll get his chance to start fresh. High school is a challenge Patton wasn't sure he was ready for but together with his childhood friend, Virgil, and some new friends he meets along the way, he'll overcome anything in his way... even himself.

Pairings: Eventual Moceit, Eventual Sleepxiety, Romantic Logince (parents of Virgil), Background Romantic Remile, Childhood Best Friends Moxiety

Fic Warnings: All sides are in this story (all sympathetic), homophobia, transphobia, bullying, sickness, food mentions, mental/physical abuse, blood, cursing, etc (This is for the fic as a whole)

<- Chapter One | Chapter Two (You’re here!) | Chapter Three ->

Read on AO3! | Like what I do? Buy me a coffee!

***TW: Major mental/physical abuse and cursing in this one, please proceed with caution***

Patton stood there, hand on his neck and the other on his stomach. His long locks of blonde hair were gone. He now had a typical boyish haircut but a little bit longer on top so he could choose which way to flip his hair. Maisie had been amazingly kind the entire time she cut it. She even shared with Patton that she herself was transgender. She had been born a boy. Patton had never met a person who has transitioned all the way. It gave him… hope.

They had all walked together to a nearby church just across the street from the large house for the ceremony. Patton now waited for everything to begin.

Alice walked over towards Patton and he grabbed the pillow on the nearby table that had the rings on it.

"I'm ready, Alice." Patton said.

Alice smiled. "Yup! You look great. Now, I know your mom is gonna get mad but I very much doubt she'll make a scene at my wedding."

Patton agreed. "Yeah she's-- um very interested in some things you have." He tried to be coy but it didn't work.

"Oh yes that's very clear how much she came around after my mother died." Alice rolled her eyes. "Pay her no mind. I take full responsibility for what happened today." She ran her hand through Patton's hair and he giggled. "You are who you believe you are, sweetheart and I support you. You look happier now than you have for awhile…"

Patton leaned in to Alice. "Thank you."

Alice leaned down and kissed Patton's head. "You're welcome. I love you, Patton."

"I love you too, Alice." Patton said.

A woman across the room called towards Alice and the bride to be looked excited.

"Things are about to start! See you later!" Alice said excited as she dashed off to take her position.

Patton gulped and grabbed the nearby pillow with the wedding rings on it. Another wedding host showed him where to stand and gave him a thumbs up. He was so nervous. What would his mother think? Would she stop the whole wedding to yell at him? Patton didn't know. He watched as the bridesmaids and groomsmen on both sides head down the walkway. Patton swelled to see both genders standing on either side of where Julia stood. She looked so beautiful in her white tux with a purple lapel. Even as far away as he was, Patton could see the tears rolling down her face.

Julia loved Alice so much.

Patton watched a girl in a light lavender dress head down the aisle next, spreading violet petals as she did so. She dramatically dumped the last bit at the very front and then Patton took a deep breath. He began walking.

It was then that he realized Julia was making eye contact with him.

He decided in that moment to not look anywhere else but her. Julia nodded and smiled gently as he walked. Patton felt so much better. As he arrived at the end, he stood next to the flower girl. Julia also gave him a thumbs up and he returned it. He had no idea if his mother had seen him or not. Hopefully Chris did. Patton wanted to thank Chris for the tux he was wearing.

Breaking the silence, "Here Comes The Bride" began to play from the organ in the corner. Everyone else stood up and Patton leaned around to see Alice. She had a tiara on now with a veil over her face.

She looks like an angel… Patton thought as she passed by him.

Uncle Dave gave a small wave to Patton as he walked by with Alice and Patton smiled. It seemed Uncle Dave approved too. Alice must've told him at some point.

The wedding proceeded as planned and Patton gave the wedding bands at the proper moment. Alice and Julia kissed and everyone erupted in cheers. Patton smiled and was genuinely happy for them until he noticed one person not cheering out of the corner of his eye.

If looks could kill, Patton would've been dead.

His mother glared daggers at him and by the look of things was restraining herself from saying a word. Her face was beet red and her eyes sharp with anger.

Patton quickly looked away from her and back to Alice who was in an embrace from Julia. The two held hands as they walked down the aisle to exit the church. Try as he might to not cry, Patton felt the tears begin to fall. The hope built up by Alice and her happy day all fell apart right in front of him. The room was loud, but he couldn't hear anything. It was muffled, as if it was far away. The tears blurred his vision. Why had he let this little ball of happiness so far inside his heart?

This is going to disappear. The voice in his mind chided him. Why would you think this outfit and haircut meant anything at all? You're trapped. You cannot escape her, Patricia. You're hers forever.

Patton shoved his hands onto his ears, dropping the ring bearer's pillow. He dashed towards the back of the church through a set of double doors. That was to be the catalyst for everything.

She's after you. She'll find you. The voice said. You can't hide from her. She knows you better than anyone else.

Patton ignored the voice, dashing through the empty halls. His new polished black shoes tapped on the vinyl floor, echoing his every movement to anyone giving chase. He ignored the tears falling down his face and quickly unbuttoned the jacket, taking it off in one quick movement. Patton proceeded to do the same thing to the shoes and pants as he ran. He didn't deserve to wear the clothing anymore. Eventually, one of the doors he tried swung open. He quickly shut it behind him and realized as his eyes adjusted to the darkness: a Sunday School classroom. Patton dived under the teacher's desk, wrapping his arms around his knees, trying so hard to calm himself down.

You're all alone now, Patricia. No one's coming to help you. Soon your mother will be here and who knows what she'll do with you… The voice said, taunting him. Abandoning the clothes doesn't change what you did! You horrible, disobedient girl!

Patton covered his ears. "Shut up!! SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP!!!" he screamed. "Shut up.. please just shut up…"

The door on the other side of the room randomly burst open. Patton covered his mouth to quiet his sobs.

"Patricia?! I know you're in here! It's the only room unlocked!" Martha bellowed.

Patton refused to move, to speak. This was going to be the time his mother snapped.

"Patricia Marie!! GET OVER HERE RIGHT NOW GODDAMN IT OR SO HELP ME!!" His mother shrieked, the voice piercing the cold silence around them. Suddenly the desk flung away from Patton and he screamed in terror, hiding his face into his knees. "There you are you ungrateful bitch!"

His mother reached down and grabbed Patton by the arm and yanked him up effortlessly, before rearing back and slapping him across the face as hard as she could. Patton wailed in pain and fell back to his knees, sobbing.

"No, you stand up right now. I'm going to show you exactly why you do not cross your mother." She spat, yanking Patton back up by his bra strap. "Look at you! You are a girl! Breasts, hips, and all!" Each word countered with a slap across Patton's face, each one more painful and loud. "No daughter of mine is going to be a tranny!" She slapped Patton so hard his bra strap snapped and Patton fell to the floor.

He didn't know if he was still awake or not. Everything was so dark and black. The shrill voice of his mother was now a mere muffle. He could taste iron in his mouth and he felt something warm running out of his ears and nose.

This was it. She was going to kill him.

The door slammed open across the room as Martha brought her foot down against Patton's ribs. He sputtered blood and wailed again. In the doorway, Alice rubbed her bruised shoulder from ramming into the locked wooden door. Her eyes darted to Patton collapsed on the floor. "Julia! Over here! Call 911, hurry!" Alice shouted down the hall before she ran over. "Get the fuck away from him!" Alice shouted, running over and shoving Martha away. "What the fuck do you think you're doing, Martha?! This is your child!" She leaned over to Patton, checking his vitals. What did she do to you, Patton? Oh baby I'm so sorry... Alice turned and stood to face Martha, her brows furrowed in anger.

Martha growled but didn't walk back towards her. She leaned against the desk she had shoved away. "That thing is not my daughter. Not anymore." Martha said. She wiped the sweat off her brow and stood up straight. "If she wants to be a boy then she should learn how to fight."

Alice growled. "You bitch."

From the door, Julia walked in, a gun in her right hand and a badge in her left.

"Martha Taylor, you're under arrest. Turn around." Julia said blankly, waving with the gun. "You have the right to remain silent and refuse to answer questions. Anything you say may be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to consult an attorney…"

Alice turned back to Patton as Julia finished telling Martha her miranda rights and cuffing her. She gently tried to pick the small boy up but he whined gently, wrapping his arms around himself.

"Alice!" She turned to see Maisie at the door. "The ambulance is here!"

"We're coming." Alice responded as she picked Patton up against her. She shhed the crying boy, kissing his forehead.

As she walked by Martha in the hallway, she stopped for a second and looked at the woman dead in the eye. "If you even remotely look at Patton ever again, you won't be leaving in handcuffs next time."

Martha didn't respond.

Alice rushed down the hallway as fast as she could.

"Alice… I.. I'm ruining your dress…" Patton mumbled.

"Baby, I don't care about my dress. Don't worry, focus on yourself." Alice assured. "Stay awake okay?"

".... I'm sorry." Patton said.

All Patton could hear as he slipped into darkness was Alice shouting his name.

---

Tags: @availe @vicdehart @sendingcookiesfromhell @lumina-universe @notveryglittery @changeling-ash @canvas-the-florist @mandeebobandee @axyzel @okay-finne @sanders-sides-with-quinn @sassafrass64 @canvas-the-florist @bookwyrminspiration @withspaces @grayson-22 @re-side-this @theblankest123 (please send me an ask to be added!)

#sanders sides #patton sanders #ts fanfic #ts fanfiction #to the poison named loneliness chapter one #ttpnl #ttpnl update #ttpnl chapter two #tw transphobia #tw abuse #tw physical abuse

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loverofyaoi22 · 4 years ago

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Erin was terrified as she sat there before three measly, greasy looking hunters. Wing hunters that is. Wing hunters went around capturing any fairy they could get their hands on and ripping their wings out which they would later sell on the black market for loads of money.

It was a painful process that would either kill the fairy or would leave them forever unable to fly. The psychological affects of ripping a fairies wings out were devastating. When a fairy had their wings ripped out, it took away a fairy’s freedom to fly and enjoy the skies. Wings also changed form and shape as they grew which helped with magic development. When wings were ripped out it could lead to server depression, feelings of alienation and a slow descent into madness. Fairies needed to fly. Without it the crave to fly and be free would slowly drive the fairy insane as it took over.

That usually lead to death by suicide sadly or the fairy would slowly shut down as wings helped show emotions. They’d flutter when happy, droop when sad, be displayed when angry or challenging someone, etc. Fairies needed them and Erin had seen too many fairies die at the hands of greedy monsters like these! Erin herself was a fairy but she had hidden her wings from view because of the rumours of wing hunters within the local area.

"What a cute looking fairy, i bet your wings are gorgeous." One of the humans laughed darkly as he used his hand to lift her face up to meet his eyes. Erin glared at him, fear deep within her eyes. “Your wings will be the most gorgeous ones ever sold. Tales of gold and silver with hanging jewels off of the tips unlike normal fairies. The blood said to sparkle as the wings are pulled from the body and they twitch. God, I can’t wait to cut your wings off!” He laughed, eyes holding a psychotic and greedy glint. Such a disgusting human; with such a vice covered soul she was surprised he hadn’t been killed by his greed.

“Go fuck yourself! You won't have my wings." She growled angrily, shuffling about even though she had been bound up by rope, keeping her arms bound to her torso. Her ankles and wrists were bound together by made draining chain and her body was bound by strong rope that rendered her immobile. The guy chuckled and laughed, bringing tears to murky eyes. The guy was around the age of 26 with long greasy blonde hair and dark blue eyes. The man had been spoiled his entire life by rich parents -that was easy to see by the way he acted and dressed - and whenever he didn’t get his way would make sure the person suffered.

What a disgusting human being!

He wore a long sleeved white top with a blue waist coat overtop that had gold chains hanging out the pockets. His black leather pants were clean and were very pristine, showing he took care of them and prided himself with that. A good leader always keeps themself clean and presentable even when doing dirty work. The leather was that of top quality and was not cheap by any means. "Oh but Fairy Queen, your wings are the best out there. That is, unless you want us to rip the wings out of all your people. We’ll tie you up and force you to watch as we cut out the wings of every man, woman and child in your stupid kingdom!” He threatened, pulling her hair causing her to look at him.

Erin had to laugh. This mere human thought he could get past her kingdoms protection barrier?! Fuck no! Not even a boss monster could! Only she could break the barrier! “Hahahaha! Good luck you pathetic human! You can’t even make a scratch on that barrier. You wouldn’t be able to get anywhere near my people!” She snarled. The human man clearly didn’t like this back chat and got in her face.

“Oh really?!” He shouted. “And how would a slut like you know?! Humans are stronger than monsters!” He screamed, face red with anger. “I’m not a full monster!” Erin growled back and spat in his face. He didn’t like that and grabbed his knife from the holster on his belt. He grabbed it and began cutting down her face and eye with the blade. It caused her to scream in pain; crying and shaking.

She just wanted to go home! That’s all she wanted!

Erin's screams and the humans maniacal laughter echoed out into the surrounding foliage making Error stiffen. He could smell blood and fear and hear the sounds of sobs and skin opening. Looks like he had new powerful senses. He looked around wildly, his senses on overdrive.

The person was in pain, whoever it was and they were clearly not alone if the dark laughing indicated anything. His slit eye-lights were looking around and scanning for any indication to show where the screams and laughs were coming from.'its ok, i will find you! I’ll stop your pain! I won’t let you suffer like I did!' He thought in desperation. He didn't want someone to be hurt like him, someone becoming so broken it left them questioning as to why.

Null looked up at his daddy, wondering why he looked so frantic. Another pain filled scream sounded out making him whimper and curl closer to his daddy's chest. His tail curled around his legs as his ears went down. The screams sounded so sad and like his when he begged them to stop, when they hurt him with their needles. "Daddy, please stop those screams. They're hurt! Stop them like you stopped him." Null whimpered out, clutching onto the others ribs.

Error didn't have a chance to put his top on when he jumped into the void from the other multiverse so all he was wearing was his shorts and trainers with his makeshift, blood soaked bandages on his ribs which had stopped bleeding and dusting but he had to be careful as to not reopen his wounds again. "I WiLl nUlL, i WiLl sToP tHeIr sCrEaMs AnD tHe OnE cAuSiNg ThEm." Error promised. Closing his eyes, he decided to use his enhanced sense of smell to find the direction on which the screams came from.

The smell of flowers blended in with the smell of firewood, alcohol, tears and blood?! Shit, this was worse than he thought! ‘North west!’ He thought in shock, eyes snapping open.

The green plants and trees looked all the same to him so he didn't know as to where he was and how far away he was from the nearest town, but the place was beautiful and the perfect temperature. The forest called to him and his senses, making him feel somewhat alive. His nose caught wind of a floral scent with a hint of the sea. It was coming north west from then and the smell of blood clearly indicated the person was hurt.

He narrowed his eyes and growled, showing huge fangs as his lip was brought back in a vicious snarl. It seemed no matter where he went, someone innocent was getting hurt for no reason and it angered him. He didn't want anyone turning out like him, being broken beyond hope, being unable to be put together again.

His bones broke, his soul rejecting itself and ripping itself apart to please someone else who would never be pleased or satisfied. "BoYs hAnG oNtO mE, AlRiGhT?" Error said as he took off running. As he began running, he used all his body weight to give himself a boost which left a huge hole in the dirt.

Null giggled as his daddy ran, his movements jostling him and his brother in his tight grip as he held onto his fathers rib. This the most fun he’d ever had! He didn’t want it to stop! The scents and colours blurred together as they moved, making everything go by quickly.

"Fun, fun!" Null laughed happily, his tail swishing happily. Void giggled too and shrieked with laughter. "Ahwoo~ ahh! Hahaha!" He cooed out. It made no sense at all but he was happy and to Null that's all that mattered. He held his little brother’s tiny hand and smiled. “See? Daddy is very awesome!” voids little giggles were his answer.

Error panted as he ran, wincing as some wounds reopened at his harsh movements and began to bleed again. 'Please hang on just a little longer, I'm on my way!' He thought frantically. He wasn't going to let someone else get hurt if he could prevent it.

Erin hit the deck, her voice raw; face wet and sticky with tears and blood.

Her left eye ached and so did her cheek and eyebrow from the two large gashes cut into her eye and skin. She was glad she had super regenerative abilities as the fairy queen so she could fix her eye but she’d have scars. She ached all over, her muscles burned and the new cuts throbbed as they bled. Her left eye was shut even more tightly as a cut on her hairline bled and blood poured down the left side of her face.

"Fuck you!" She sobbed out, bruises forming on her cheek and staining the pale skin dark purple. She spat out some blood onto the others clothes, making him frown in displeasure. "Bitch." He hissed and used his foot to turn her onto her back and began kicking her stomach. Erin groaned and moaned in pain at every painful blow. More tears fell. All she felt was pain! ‘I don’t want this! I can’t protect myself and it hurts!’ She thought.

Bruises littered her arms and legs as well as bleeding cuts that were filled with the mud from the forests floor. Dirt stained her blue top and brown skirt. Her clothes were torn from the beating and covered in blood. The guys workers laughed as they sat on a rotting log nearby and drunk some whisky from their titanium flasks. Her wings would win them a fortune!

Their black and brown guard dogs sat by with red collars on, gold spikes sticking out as well as collars. They barked angrily, saliva going everywhere. "You get her boss." One laughed. He was a convicted sex offender and domestic abuser. He was a wanted man but with his boss’ help and constant moving around he was never caught.

He wore a black trench coat with silver seams and chains on the pockets with a brown top and grey jeans that were accompanied by scuffed black boots. His brown eyes was hazed by alcohol and his brown hair was swept back. His brother sat beside him, wearing a long sleeved button up t-shirt whose sleeves were pushed up to the elbow and some blue pants with brown shoes. His brother was a wanted man for murder and rape of a young child. He was truly disgusting. Their breaths reeked of alcohol and it made Erin feel sick.

Her body felt overloaded and her thoughts raced as did her soul. ‘Please, someone save me! I don’t want to die! My kingdom will be unprotected and Claudia..my friends...I can’t leave them!’ She thought as kicks kept going and screamed as a rib broke. ‘Claudia, help me! I’m scared!’ She thought with desperation.

The boss -who went by the name Terry- finished kicking her and kicking her onto her right side, making her face away from them. Erin coughed up blood and vomit, whimpering. All she had to do was go to the market to do some shopping, but her basket was lying in the bushes as they were ripped from her hands by the three assholes above her. "Show us your wings Fairy Queen." Terry hissed, smirking.

If he got the Fairy Queen's wings he could make a goddamn fortune selling them on the black market. He would be rich and he would be able to live in a grande Villa in the south of Snowdin. Erin sniffled and used her bound hands that were rubbed raw and bleeding due to the magic draining chains to sit up and glared. "Go to hell. I won’t show you my wings!” She hissed as tears flowed and blood dribbled down swollen and purple cheeks. She would never show a mere human who wanted to steal her wings what he wanted!

Terry grew angry and pulled out the dagger from his back pocket holster again. It was a fine blade of steel around 6 inches long and with a gold handle that was said to have been crafted by a local blacksmith within Snowdin's capital. "I will kill you!" He shouted as he lifted the dagger up

Erin closed her eyes and sobbed silently waiting for the final blow but all she heard was a scream of "what the hell?!"

Confused, she snapped opened her eyes and gasped. A tall glitchy skeleton with midnight bones stood before her in a crouched position, growling. His ears were pulled backwards, his six ombré tails swishing angrily as he guarded her. 'A...kitsune?' She thought in shock. For a second there, she thought she was going to die at the hands of greedy humans but it seemed that a demon fox skeleton had heard her cries for help.

Tears of pain turned into tears of relief. She wasn’t gonna die! She was safe!

Error stood before the tied up girl, fury coursing through his veins. They had tried to kill an innocent person for no reason, after tying her up and beating her to the point her skin was black and blue with multiple cuts. He came across the sight, panting and his bones creaking. Null watched the mean humans cut and kick their captive and he whimpered, burying his face in his fathers chest.

It hurt to watch!

Ir reminded him of the scientists who experimented on him. "Daddy, their mean." He whimpered. Error growled, his lips moving back in a snarl. Putting Null on the floor, he petted the younger kitsune.

"StAy HeRe nO mAtTeR wHaT. LoOk AfTeR VoId fOr mE." His daddy said before rushing off. Null hid within the bush, Void cooing and looking around; touching the leaves and flowers. 'Daddy can do it. If anyone could help her its daddy. Daddy is safe after all.' He thought.

‘You disgusting bastard! People like you should be burning in hell!!’ He thought in absolute fury. His marrow boiled. They hurt a mere child!

When Terry tried to go and stab her, Error kicked the human on his ass, snarling and crouching in a fighting position in front of the girl. The girl was bleeding and bruised to no end. He growled and snapped his head in the direction of the dogs who walked over to protect their masters.

The dogs growled and barked roughly but he roared loudly causing the dogs to whimper and their ears to go down, tails between their legs and lay their heads on their paws.

A sign of submission.

He turned to the human who scrambled back. "What the hell?! A kitsune?! What the fuck, i thought they were endangered!" He said in fear, his face ashen pale and sweating buckets. Kitsunes were rare and were hunted to pretty much extinction by humans for their fur which was not only used for rope making, clothes making and that, it made good medicine too.

His two goons pissed themselves from fear and screamed as thinly slit eye lights turned to them and big fangs snapped at them. "You're on your own!" One brother screamed and ran off into the surrounding foliage, his brother following as well as their dogs following him. They weren’t dying today!

"Hey, don't leave me you cowards!" Terry screamed in fear. This kitsune was angry, the feral eyes and growling as well as body position showing its fury and will to pounce. “You sick bastard!” Error screeched furiously and punched in him. He pinned the fucker down and proceeded to gut the guy with his razor sharp claws.

It was relatively easy as cutting into his abdomen was like a knife through butter. It was soft and fleshy, not a lot of resistance to his claws. As claws cut deeper and deeper past muscles, fat and tissue, blood spilled onto the ground. Terry screamed in agony and blood ran out his mouth making his screams gargled.

“Stop, please stop!! Stop, stop, stop, stop!! I’ll do anything just please stop have mercy!! Please have mercy! I beg of you!” He sobbed out. Error stopped and for a moment they locked eyes with eachother. Erin watched in shock as the Kitsune snickered and laughed with a static filled voice. “You don’t deserve mercy and whilst I’m merciful to people, I am not to you!” He growled and began cutting again. Soon he was at the intestines, ignoring the others screams. He pulled the intestines out and threw them aside staining the floor, plants and his hands with blood.

He continued to cut out and remove organs one by one, showing the organs to Terry before throwing them aside qirhna sick splat. Terry watched in pain and horror at his own organs and screeched as bones were also broken. Error laughed darkly. No he would feel the pain he inflicted on others! Soon screams fell silent and Terry was dead; chest cavity wide open and empty. The other hissed, standing tall and glaring down at him.

How pitiful. In the end he was nothing but a coward.

Error sighed. Humans truly were greedy and horrible; hurting an innocent person for no reason or for money. He would never get humans and their ways of life or thinking. Turning to the girl, he chuckled at her awed and slightly horrified look. Sure he was merciful and didn’t like being beaten or killing innocent people and their homes but people like him? He loved killing them slowly and inhumanely so they could suffer!

He would say the girl was around the age of 16 to 17 with long brown hair tipped blue that cascaded down her shoulders to her hips and blue eyes holding confusion and slight horror.

Dried blood caked her face and bruises littered her skin. Her cheeks were swollen and her left eye was not only badly cut up but swollen shut. From the tears in her clothes, he could see her stomach was a dark purple. The cuts had started to clot and he frowned. "YoU oKaY kId? YoU’Re bAdLy hUrT." He asked her as he bent down and began to cut the rope binding her. He got a good look at her clothes. She wore a button up, pale blue top that's sleeves ended at her elbows and a long brown skirt. The clothes were torn in places and stained with mud as well as blood.

Erin nodded. "I am fine. Thank you so much for saving me." She said with a wince and small smile as the chains came free. She was not telling the full truth. She wanted to cry, to scream and be at home safe but with how she was, she couldn’t be. She needed to heal. She rubbed her wrists and smiled up at the kitsune. She finally took in his appearance.

He was around 6”10 and he was wounded; badly. His skull was covered in tons of cracks and scars that made his skull look fragile and ready to cave in from the slightest touch. His ribs were broken or had healed wrong in many places; some being held together by blood-soaked make shift bandages. His spine was scratched to shit and she was surprised he could walk. She couldn't see his hips or his thighs but she could guess they were also covered in cracks and scars. His legs and feet were also covered in multiple cuts and scars, including his toes.

Wow, and she thought her wounds were bad.

She frowned at how someone could be so hurt and look as if it didn't bother him. She had seen grown men like him scream at broken bones before, so how this monster wasn't screaming in agony was beyond her comprehension.

His eye sockets were red and his left eye light was white whilst the right was yellow with a blue ring and pupil. He had blue lines on his face, showing he had cried so much he had been branded by it. His skull was black as was the palms of his hands but the rest of his bones were red.

The dark red areas signified defied blood or bruising which was so server, he shouldn't be able to move let alone be standing proudly above her. Her heart broke knowing that he had been hurt, abused even, by someone so much he had been branded by his tears of pain and he was no longer bothered by the pain; clearly he had gone though worse times.

His ears were black tipped navy blue and filled with red fur. His tails were the same bar the red. He glitched and had 'ERROR" signs all over her. The skeleton kitsune smiled and sat down cross legged before her. "ThAts GoOd. NuLl, VoId, yOu tWo cAn cOmE oUt nOw." He said, his Deep and glitchy voice startling her a bit but not much.

Null and void came out.

Erin smiled as the tiny kitsunes went over to their father and crawled into his lap. They were both small, one clearly under the age of one and the other just under age 4 and a half. They had white bones and didn't glitch like their father, leading Erin to believe he had adopted the pair. They had white furry ears and tails but the oldest had his tipped blue and the baby tipped pastel orange.

Both wore high end, silk dresses even though they were male, not that she cared. She had a male friend back home whom could pull off dresses perfectly. "You saved her daddy! Daddy good man!” Null squealed happily, Void cooing and clapping his tiny hands. Erin smiled.

"I'm Erin, I'm the fairy Queen." Erin said standing up only to hit the deck again. Everything hurt so bad!

Error helped her up gently. “Kid, you’re very badly wounded you shouldn’t be moving around as it could hurt you even further.” He said with a serious but soft tone. Erin chuckled. “I’m fine sir. As the fairy queen I have certain healing and regenerative abilities.” She watched the others eyes widen slightly at that. "I know I don't look like much but its because of my magic. Its nice to meet you and your kits." Erin said offering a hand.

Error started at her hand but took it and shook it gently. "HeLlo ErIn, I'm ErRoR aNd tHeSe aRe my SoNs NuLl aNd VoId." He said.

Null waved at her, smiling. Erin waved back. "Its my pleasure. Sorry about those assholes -never use those words boys, they're bad- are wing hunters." Erin said as she went over to a nearby bush and decided to pick her basket out from within the leaves. She ignored the organs nearby. It was a simple basket that Erin was glad wasn't damaged.

Error didn't like the sound of that. "Wing hunter, someone who pulls the wings from creatures and sells them for money and profit." He said in disgust. He didn't like them, he had seen them in pervious AU's where the inhabitants had wings such as RebornTale, Angeltale and BirdTale. He loved watching them fly so it angered him when people tried to remove the wings like he was removed from his AU years ago from fate.

"Yeah. They wont do it again thanks to you though." Erin said with a cough of blood as she began to use her magic to heal her wounds. She placed a green glowing hand on the cut on her forehead. It began to knit itself back together until the cut was gone and then did the same to her eye. Once the wind was closed she had two scars and blinked. She could see!

She moved to the bruise, wincing at the pain as it was tender and used it to bring the swelling down and get rid of the internal bleeding. The kicking had torn open and wounded her organs but luckily she could repair them and the ribs that fixed itself with a snap making Error wince.

He knew how that felt.

Once the bruise and swelling had gone down, green flame like magic surrounded her body as she used her healing magic to heal most wounds she had sustained from the beating, especially the one to the stomach which had done the most damage. Pulling her top up, she showed her dark purple stomach. It was badly bruised and super painful. Error winced even more Humans skin wasn't supposed to turn that colour, especially where it housed their vital organs.

"T-That looks painful. Will you be okay kid?" Error asked with concern. Erin nodded as the bruising began to fade as all internal damage was fixed. "Yes i am Error. I am fine." She said with a slight tremble. Everything that happened was starting to take affect.

‘No meltdown, no meltdown, no meltdown!’ She thought. She had autism so things like what just happened could overload her. Error frowned and hugged her which she didn’t expect. Null looked at the glowing flame aura and gasped in awe. "Pretty!" He said making Erin chuckle. "Thank you. It's healing magic." She said letting her top fall.

(I'm no longer doing Error's voice LiKe ThIs.)

“Kid you’re not ok. It’s okay to cry when scared so if you wanna cry, cry.” He said softly and hugged her lightly. She needed it. Erin’s trembles got worse and she began sobbing and hitting her head violently. She didn’t feel safe, she felt exposed and overwhelmed. She hated it! ((Authors note: I have autism as I was diagnosed at age 12. I have violent meltdowns and it isn’t nice at all so I’m going off of my own experiences.))

“Kid no! Don’t hurt yourself.” He said gently holding her hands to stop her from hurting herself. Null hugged her round the waist and Void held her ankle. Poor lady must be scared! ‘Don’t worry! Hugs and kisses makes it all better!’ Null thought kissing her hand and void her leg. Error chuckled. They sure liked making people happy.

Soon the meltdown was over and Erin was exhausted, leaning against Error. “Sorry. I still have so much to do and I just made myself look like an idiot.” She mumbled. Null frowned. “You’re not an idiot ma’am. You’ve been hurt and it’s okay to cry. Daddy saved us from a bad man too. It’s okay to cry.” He said with determination.

Erin chuckled weakly and let his skull. “Such a nice boy. Your daddy taught you well.” She mumbled. Error smiled and decided to change the subject.

"So, you said you were the fairy Queen. I thought fairies were supposed to have wings." Error said in confusion. She had no wings what so ever so how was she the fairy queen? He had seen his fair share of queens before, Toriel was always the queen and was a king ruler but some AU's were the exception. "I am but i can hide my true appearance with magic." Erin said as she finished healing herself and stood up on her own.

She felt weak from the magic use and meltdown but a little bit off food and some sleep would make her feel good a new. She activated her magic again to reveal her wings.

Error watched in awe as a pink aura burst around her form. Her messy hair straightened and became slightly curly at the tips as a forehead crown made of pearls and pink tear drop crystal in the centre formed on her head.

Her clothes changed shape, becoming a light pink, off the shoulders Dress, the skirt becoming slit just below her hips. The front half of the skirt had sewn on dark pink gemstones and blue crystals arranged to make a flower. The gems were also on the back around the sleeves edge that widened near the wrist and at the neck line. She wore a gold corset made of metal that sat above the dress. It looked heavy when in reality, it was charmed to be weightless. It was encrusted with rubies, sapphires and rose quarts.

Erin wore gold ankle cuffs that was also encrusted with gemstones. Her wings opened up, shocking him. They were like three wings in a pair of wings.

The wings had fuchsia outer boarder with blue and gold tips. There was three silver jewels in the centre of the wings and then light pink. She had some blue jewels dangling of the six tips and they sparkled in the sun.

"Now i can see why they call the Fairy Queen." Error said in shock. He had never seen magic so advanced before in someone who wasn't him or Inky so this person was very powerful if they could use their magic to conceal their true appearance and appendages from sight.

He sighed. He could never have a normal friend could he? He looked at her wings and wondered if they were made of living tissue or magic like Skeletons were.

"Its fine, my magic makes it hard for anyone to see my appearance once I conceal it." Erin said, carting her basket. "Error, may I ask, who has hurt you. I can assure you the person who has hurt you will be found and punished, this looks like inhumane torture!" Erin cried out, looking absolutely horrified at his injuries.

"Its a long story, are you sure you want to hear it?" He asked as he stood up; causing his bones to crack and creak from the movement.

Erin shuddered at the sound. It made her anger boil at the fact someone could be so damaged, so broken yet still be in once piece as if it was okay. "I would love to hear it. You can tell it to me as we walk to the market, i am not leaving you without a home after saving my life." She said with determination.

Erins wings began to flutter allowing her to fly right beside him. "Alright. Fate is cruel and has one child who they adore..." And so Error told her off Fate, of Inky, Of how he had been ripped from his AU and forced into a job of destruction, killing people so peoples AU's could grow and how they hated him for a job he had no control over because of an out of control creator.

He watched in shock as Erin again broke down in tears and sobbed at his tail, angrily sobbing about how if she ever met this so called 'creator' she would rip his body into pieces only to put him back together again and let her friends torture him in the most gruesomest way possible until he was begging to death.

Error had never seen someone so angry about his treatment. It happened everyday and he was see to all the fights, the beating, the insults.

She grabbed his hand and looked him in the eyes with determination and sincerity. "I swear to you Error, no one will ever hurt you or your Kits again, or i will personally kill them myself." Erin growled out. Erin was furious. How could people be so ungrateful to a demigod?! A demigod who was forced and who was broken in both mind, soul and body?

Error would admit he drowned in fates strings, struggled to keep everyone alive.

He hated the pain, he hated that no one could see the truth and blindly followed the one who would lead to their death but when no one knew the truth he didn't blame them. Sure everything hurt -he screamed, begged, bones breaking and blood pouring whilst his soul broke and was reattached itself- he admitted he learnt thing they didn't know.

He checked her quickly. The last of her family, an autistic child and queen of a huge kingdom. She had many friends and a fiancé. She was powerful with over 1,800 in attack and 1,500 in deference. Her soul trait was SINCERITY so her soul was turquoise. What an Interesting character.

“But I’m used to it. I’m broken and chocking on Fates strings. Fate likes one and I am not that one. There is nothing you can do and even if you could, you have over millions of Sanses to fight.” He said as he followed her.

Erin narrowed her eye that flashed turquoise for a second before returning to blue again "Those so called Judges seem very blind in their judgement if you ask me." Erin said as they walked into Snowdin's Market place. There were shops and stalls for miles; each stall filled with food, clothes, meat, medicine and other things people would be interested in buying.

Clothes were lined on racks, giving colour to all the bleak grey walls. Baskets were surrounded stalls that were set out with things Error had never seen.

Null watched the stalls and looked around at the people who crowded the streets. The sun beamed down from the sunny sky and warmed his bones and fur up.

The chatter and laughter of the crowd made the atmosphere light and fluffy. He didn't notice his daddy's confused face at the beautiful fairy's words but he enjoyed the smell of the cooking meat that permeated from the cooking stalls.

"Daddy, I'm hungry." He pouted as his stomach grumbled, Void even beginning to cry as his little tummy rubbed too. Error frowned and rocked the pair of them, even though he was concerned. They had no money and he couldn't leave his sons to steal anything in such a populated area. It would be a disaster!

Guards would run after them and people would have to move aside and try and catch them and there was NO WAY in hell he’d let them go for his children. They’d have to get through him first! “I’m so so sorry little ones. I do not have the backpack on me so all food is as Toriel. I’m sorry but you’ll have to wait till I can find us some shelter and get you some food.” He said with sadly.

Erin frowned as Void cried and Null whimpered In hunger. "May i?" She asked.

Error turned to her apprehensively and frowned. "Only if you explain what you meant earlier." He said. He was confused as to what she meant that their judgement was blind. Erin nodded and took Void from his arms. "Shh, shh, its okay. We'll get you something to eat." She cooed, rocking and nuzzling the small baby kitsune.

Void's cries slowly came to a stop and she smiled; wiping his orange tears away. "There we go, happy baby." She giggled.

Turning to Error, she flew beside him as he walked into the crowd. "I meant that they are blind to their own misdoings. They see their actions as good and only good, not considering their own actions immoral and wrong. They cant see that what they have done had lead to you having great pain and suffering. They are also blind lapdogs I guess you could say. This Dream sounds like a love sick puppy with his tail between his legs.

If they believe one persons words and not bothering to exhaust all options before violence; if they don't see the reasons behind someone's action and someone history, and just go straight ahead into violence, then they are the idiots and the ones who should take a step back and think 'Whoa, hold on a minute, is what this person saying the and do i know what he is telling me is true? What do i know about this person? Do i know their reasons behind their actions, do i know what they've been though?' If not, then they're blind and easily lead." Erin explained, angrily, not caring when Void grabbed her hair and began chewing on it.

Error stared At her and couldn't believe it. He had never thought of it that way. He could see where she was coming from and what she meant.

In ways, the sanses and papyruses were blind to everything, only taking Ink's words and falling upon their own knowledge. They knew nothing about him, about Nightmare's gang or the Chara's. They only knew what Ink told them but never decided to find out their reasoning behind their actions and their history; what they went through.

"I never thought of it that way. Like I said, i could only do so much without Ink having everyone breathing down my neck and beating me to pieces. I could never find time to do anything and when i could find time, I would spend time in the Antivoid watching Undernovela, making puppets and clothes or hanging out with Nightmare's gang and the Chara's." Error said as he looked at the crowd. They watched him in horror, whispering about his wounds and promises of pain to the one who hurt him.

Other bowed as Erin came though as she was the queen. Erin nodded, handing Void back to his father. "Understandable. They will pay for it. Anyway, as you're here you can relax and no longer have to destroy." She said as she began to buy what she needed. She brought bags of vegetables and fruits as well as packaged meat.

Medicine was a must, she brought loads of it and she got things such as bread, butter, potions and baby food for Void. Error was in shock that a tiny basket could hold so much but Erin divulged that there was a spell on it so some of it was teleported to her palace.

Erin explained how she lived in the palace her parents left behind when they died with her friends who he would meet when he went home with her as she wanted him to have an actual home. Error didn't understand why she was determined to help him as he was used to the pain and he would heal overtime after all, once he had been pulled into tiny individual pieces and he just went back together again but she was having none of it. He sighed.

Null smiled as Erin handed him a small basket of freshly baked chocolate cookies.

“Thank you!" He said happily as he took one and bit into it. It was soft and the chocolate melted in his mouth making him moan happily at the taste. She was nice and lot more friendly then the others they had run into. He liked her. "You're welcome Null." Erin said happily and gave Error a bottle of formula to Error.

"Thank you Erin." He said as he put the nipple of the bottle in Voids mouth and the small infant began to suck the formula down like no tomorrow.

Null munched on the cookies as Erin went over to her last stop. Error watched as she approached an elderly man whose long grey hair was pulled back in a bun. He wore a dark blue shirt and grey shorts with black shoes. She said something in a language he didn't understand and he watched as the man pulled a piece of clothing off the rack and gave it to her. Smiling, Erin paid him and turned to him.

"We can go now." She said, going in the opposite way they came in from. Error followed, ignoring the rest of the people. "Also, you need to start eating again." Error looks at her, eye brow raised. "Why?! I have no need for eat, i cant die! I can survive without it." He said. Error would never understand eating. "I know but it will make you sick. Not eating means your kitsune mana reserves will deplete severely and make you very weak and sick." Erin said seriously. "OH."

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gotmeringinghellsbells · 5 years ago

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A Grandfather’s Worries

Fandom: Cuphead

Characters: Cuphead, Elder Kettle, Mugman

A/N: I found myself in a Cuphead hole somehow. I don’t know how but um.... enjoy family fluff!

Description: After finding his boys close by what remained of the casino, Elder Kettle let’s his worry out for the boy’s to hear. They were in trouble! But.... after the water works start, the anger doesn’t last for long.

Oh they were in for it now. Both cup brothers looked down at their feet as they received a stern stare from their grandfather. Elder Kettle had been coming back from getting groceries when he spotted the two heading towards the old casino. What they were planning to do, the old kettle didn’t know; but what he did know was that they were in a lot of trouble. The silence was brutal in the small house as only the sound of the clock could be heard ticking away. The tension was thick, each side waiting for the other to speak first.

Finally, the grandfather broke the silence with a sigh. “Why were you two going back to the casino? Nothing good can lay within the remains and shambles that’s there.” Mugman was holding back tears, refusing to face his caretaker. It had been Cuphead’s dumb idea! Why was he getting punished too!

But that’s what got them in the mess the first time. Cuphead had an idea, and then they…. Were sucked into a world of nightmares and chaos. They’d just broke free from that a month ago, why go back?! Elder Kettle couldn’t figure it out. “You weren’t hoping to see the Devil again, were you? Or that lackie: King Dice?”

Both shook their heads with a small “no”. “Then? Out with it boys! I told you to never go near that place and look what happened! Now why the heck would you go back after all that’s happened?” Cuphead too, now had tears in his eyes. He felt them drip, but not as much as Mugman.

“ We’re sorry,” he whimpered out softly. “I don’t want an apology boy, I want an answer. What is wrong with you two that keeps landing you there?” Cuphead spoke up this time. “Just…. Wanted to make sure nothing was left.” Eh? Elder kettle looked over them, trying to push his anger and worry aside. “What do you mean?”

His voice was still a little loud, making both heroes hearts drop. “We didn’t want there to be anymore trouble!” Mugman finally shouted. He had tears streaming down his face; it broke his parental figure’s heart. “Mug,” he was cut off as the boy ran off to his room, utterly upset.

Damn.

Elder Kettle sighed before looking to Cuphead who was trying to stay strong. “Is that all? Be honest now with me Cup.” The boy looked up sadly, nodding. “Okay.” The man crouched down slightly, arms extended. “C’mere boy.” The red cladded cup was hesitant before suddenly running to his grandfather.

He hid his face into his grandfather as he sobbed, curling into him as arms wrapped around him. A loving hand rubbed his smaller back as hiccups strung out. “Sh, it’s alright my boy. I’m sorry I yelled. I’m just…. Scared and worried. Please, please just stay away from that darned place Cuphead! We’ve checked the rubbled over and over as a town. The last thing I need is you two boys getting roped into another, another,” he was cut off by his own sob. The older cup froze before looking up.

Elder Kettle was…. crying. “E-Elder Kettle?” His own tears seemed to ease as he looked up at the rare sight. “Do you not understand what you and your brother mean to me? Your my babies! If anything were to happen to you two, again, I don’t know what I’d do.” Now it was Cuhead’s heart that tugged. He felt the water works start up again as he curled into his grandfather. “I’m sorry.”

It was his fault, both times had been his fault; he felt so guilty form it! He caused him and Mugman to lose their souls, caused everyone to fear them, hurt them, hurt Mugman! He didn’t realize he was hurting their grandfather too. He felt the loving hand now rub the back of his head as he heard the forced breathing regulation from the other. Elder Kettle was trying to mask it all, like most parents did.

“Why don’t you sit here while I go see your brother, hm?” Cuphead shook his head. He wanted to scream out so many apologies, to be held still; but nothing came. “Ah, come on now. No more tears.” Still nothing. Alright, fine, the old man figured his baby needed this anyway. Watery eyes widened as a sensation ran throughout his body. Oh no.

“EEEhehehehehe! E-Ehehehelder Kettle!” A red, striped straw spun around in the cup’s head as he shook it; full body squirming in an attempt to escape. He pulled back, attempting to shrink down or break through the arms holding him hostage. Nothing was working. “Nhahahaha! Whahahit, whahahahit! IIt th-hahahaha-tickles!” Snorts and hiccups entered the air with small wheezes and gasps.

It warmed the caretaker’s heart. He stopped for only a moment before lifting the boy off the ground and throwing him over the back of the couch. Trying to recover, Cuphead was quick to try and escape; but no such luck. He felt fear come over him as his grandfather followed over the back of the couch. Oh crap, he was serious!

“E-Elder Kettle! Gra-Grhahahandpa!” He threw his head back, fingers climbing up his ribs and under his arms. ��Mmmmmmm! Nhahahahao it tickles! Nhahahaot thehehehere!” The grandfather laughed. “Not there? But you say that wherever I tickle you.” The other shook his head, squealing. “There’s that smile.” Fingers let up as to not overdo it; that and Mugman still needed comfort. This would have to do for now. The kind old kettle left a small kiss on his baby’s head before sitting him up and tucking him in on the couch to help calm him down.

Now for the harder makeup. Mugman had always been the sensitive one, not taking loud voices or punishments well. Any kind of yelling, bullying, scolding, etc., broke the boy. Knocking on the door, the grandfather heard nothing. He let out a sigh before entering quietly, looking towards Cuphead’s bed where a lump shook gently.

Always to his brother. The grandfather shook his head with a small smile before gently bringing his hands closer to the lump. Mugman was confused on who entered as nothing had been said. As he slowly started to peek a head out, he felt fear come over him.

Fingers found the boy’s upper ribs, causing him to hunch over with high pitched squeals and shrieks. “Grhahahandpa!” No fair! The elder pulled the boy backwards, into his lap as he snuggled him from behind. He leaned forward, teasing his baby as he would when Mugman was…. well, an actual baby. Legs kicked as Mugman screamed out in laughter. He fell back into the older, arms and legs flailing about.

“Nhahaha! Ehehelder Kettle!” Kisses and raspberries came over his neck, earning shrieks from the boy. “Yes, what is it my boy?” Mugman made him laugh as he tried to grab the hands offending his smaller tummy. “Grhahahandpa! Nhahahao! Cuppy!” It made the older man snort. His boys were such sweet hearts.

“Calling for reinforcements, are you?” Mugman squealed as his parental figure dipped him back on his back, hands scratching up his sides and ribs. “Grhahahahahand,” he couldn’t speak anymore; which caused the grandfather to stop immediately. Slowly, he sat his baby by up, holding him. “Sorry for yelling Mugs, I just…. I’m sorry. Just worried about you two.” He kissed the porcelain head softly as he cuddled the younger of the two. Mugman panted softly, curling into his parental figure.

“I love you too, that’s why I worry.” He felt weight on the other side of him, He turned to see Cuphead, curled in the blanket from the couch. Elder Kettle smiled before pulling both into him, kissing both their heads with a sigh. “Ah my boys, what am I going to do with you?”

A while passed before both had fallen asleep on their guardian. He slowly tucked them in before closing the bedroom door. Suddenly, the soft persona broke as the kettle broke down into tears. His boys, they were the only family he had. He raised them from infancy! They were his boys! But.... trouble had a way of finding Cuphead, and he was going to put out a notice to the town just to keep eyes on the rubble that was the casino.

#cuphead #mugman #elder kettle #tickle #tickling #ticklish #fanfic #fanfiction #family

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willowmcplier · 5 years ago

Text

The Shifter (P9)

Slight gore warning

When I woke, there was a horrible pounding in my head. I gripped my head in my hands, trying to ease the pain. My whole body froze as I heard an ear-splitting shriek. It wasn't human. I don't even know where I am. I can't help but huddle and shiver in the cold, damp room, and inky blackness covering everything. The remains of my jacket were wrapped around me, and I pulled the tattered cloth tighter to keep warm.

The shriek came again, louder this time. I knew, without a doubt, that the creature had long been aware that I was there. I had no choice but to confront it. It was my only way out of this prison. Shivering, I stumbled to my feet and tiptoed towards the sound.

A long-limbed, pale-skinned creature was tied to a small wooden chair, struggling against the bonds. It's icy blue eyes stared into mine as it caterwauled again. I had to clap my hands over my ears as my head already spun from the tiny bit I'd heard unprotected. Seeing my movement, it wailed again, but softer this time. It kept making its screeches, struggling in the bonds to try to get to me.

I finally saw what I'd been searching for. A door! But the thing in the chair was right in front of me, and there was only a foot or so of space around it. Gulping, I pressed against the wall, scooting towards it with the intent of slipping past it.

I'm not sure how, but at the last moment the creature grabbed my head. Instantly I felt unbearable pain, as which could only be described as my body contorting, bones scraping and veins snapping and winding together again. I couldn't hold back a shout of agony, all energy quickly draining out of my body. I slumped to the ground, and the last thing I saw was that horrible creature eyeing me with soulless blue eyes.

~~~

KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL

A horrible urge pounded in my head as I groaned, regaining consciousness. My eyes fluttered open and I couldn't believe what I saw.

Red. Blood blood red. Everything was as red as blood. I quickly brought my hands up to rub my eyes, but what I saw was even worse.

My hands... the fingers were long and spindly, needle-like claws protruding from the tips. The skin was a sickly grey, chunks of rotting flesh peeling off. In some places I could see my bones, thick inky blood dripping onto the floor.

I couldn't help it. I screamed in terror, an inhuman shriek escaping my throat. I quickly checked the rest of myself, only finding that I wore the body of a monster.

"What's happening to me!?" I screamed - or, screeched, my deadly hands shaking. Running my forked tongue along my teeth I found they were razor-tipped, made for ripping flesh off of bones.

And then I heard a voice. A human voice. But it was so familiar it made my bones cold.

"Mark? Mark, can you hear me?" My own voice asked me. My body, my human body, was now tied to the chair, staring at me with strange blue eyes. "Mark, I know you're in there. It's okay. It's gonna be okay."

Realization came across me. This... thing had stolen my body, trapping me - the REAL me - inside its own decaying flesh suit.

I recognized the urges now as the monster's instincts. KILL, they told me, and a low growl rose in my throat as I stalked towards my body. I was getting my body back if it was the last thing I'd do. I bared my sharp barbed fangs, saliva dripping from my maw.

The monster who wore my skin, the wolf in sheep's clothing, gasped, struggling desperately in the chair. "NO! MARK! PLEASE MARK! PLEASE DON'T HURT ME! I'M SORRY! IT WAS THE ONLY WAY I COULD TALK TO YOU! IT'S ME, JACK! YOU HAVE TO BELIEVE ME!" 'me' screamed and sobbed, trembling.

I paused, resisting the urge to tear him apart. A horrible noise rose in my throat as I forced the sound out. "W̱̪͍̭̹͓̩h̘̞̖̦o.͏.̧̖.̷̤̟ ̬͔̩a̞̟r̸͍̪e.̵.̛̙̪̤̗.̥͚̕ ̯y̦͚̺̥o̧u͕̝̹͔͠ͅ?̯̱̟͇"

'I' shook in fear. "M-Mark, it's m-me, J-Jack. Th-that thing stole my body. I d-don't know what happened, I just woke up here tied to a chair and it grabbed me by the shoulders and it hurt so much." Tears streamed down its face as it remembered the horrible memories. "M-Mark, I know you're in there. I can see your eyes. Y-your eyes don't change, t-the thing has red eyes, your eyes are still brown."

I slowly stalked over to the one who claimed to be Sean. I needed proof. "H̴̗̮͎̗̭͖ͅo̩̣͚͔ͅw̡.̩͈̝͈.͈͚͍͖͘.̬̲̺̬͖̹͇͜ ̛̫͖͉c̥̖̭̘a̱̙͈̥n̥̺͉̕.͚̬.̙̰̟̰̦́.͔͔̫͔ͅ Í̩̼̟͈̖.̘̱̞̤̥͝.̺͔̱̯̜̺͝.͎̖̳̗̦͉̕ ̭̼̦b̡̭̭̯e͓̻̫̺͇̖̕.̥͍͉̘̘.̸̥̟̯.̟̤̱͈ ̗̮͔͘s͔̤̰͚͉̯̮u̦̻̰͕r̘̬̺e̶͉̞.̰.̟̫̰̪̙̬.́ ̗͕͕̲y͙͟o͏͈͔̲̗͚̘̦ṵ'̸r͏̲̗̱̘͇̝e͉̲͕͉͢ ̲̯͕̜̖̬͜t̮̹̳h̗̣̻̪e̼̭̖ ͖R̺̕E̟̝͓͕̝̘͟A̵̭͎̜͓̱L̩̗̩͎̖ ̠̹̪J̙a̸̭c͔̹̫k̼͍̺͡?̦"

"I'm afraid of heights. This thing had been hunting me for weeks and I couldn't take it anymore so I came to you for help. You started sleeping during the day so you could watch me sleep and wake me up if I had nightmares and-"

"S̟̦̼̠͟to̻̳͖̯͍͡ͅp̖̳̹̫̭̩͎." Jack in my body stopped. I nodded slowly, moving to crouch before him. "I͓͔ ̪͈̯̼̭̠ͅb̳̘͎̗̭̗ę̩̗l͉̮̜̖̭͎i̪͇̯̺̗e̮͚̼̣̪v̴̤͖͎̲͎ͅe̹̤̰̩͙͚͟ ͇̹y̫̲̠̟̹̰͇͢o̵̪̼͎̠̥̥u͔̭̺,̮̣͈͔̣̰̤ ̕J̡͓̱͎a̛c̤̝͉̦̀ḳ͠."

Jack sighed in relief and I moved behind him, picking at the rope with long, spindly fingers. The claws got in the way, however, and I stopped, defeated. "C͕̘̭̰̥̺a͓̫̹͈n̻̪̲̯̕'̻̼̻̩̳͝t ̠͖̬͚ͅg̵̩̥͕̥̪̬ͅe̮̺̞̩͎̺t͙̦͔͉̯ ̮̣͚̜̻̪̻kn̘̜̗̼̼̦͎͝o̭̖̼̙͖̜̰t̻̰s͔̱̜̙̳͈ͅ.̵.̷̥.̥͓̦̪͍͕ ̦͓̝̝͞b̪̬a̜̟͉͚̯̦͝d̝̱͖͉̘ b̰o̡̪̦̭̬͎ͅd͈̝y͔."

Jack flexed his wrists, lines showing on them. "Cummon. Grab my head."

His words unsettled me, as did the hunger that suddenly rose within me. "I'm giving you your body back. You have to grab my head."

Reluctantly, I did so. Instantly Jack started screaming in pain, my body writhing in the ropes. I tried to pull away but the creature only tightened its grip until I thought his skull would crack.

And then I was gasping and spitting blood, collapsing to the floor, trembling and weak. I saw my hands in front of me, MY hands, my HUMAN hands, and knew I was free. My whole body ached from my fingertips to the edge of my toes. My last act before I fell unconscious was to reach for Sean's bonds, my hand dangling limply as everything went black.

~~~

When I woke my body was aching like I'd been through a blender. I groaned in pain, my eyes fluttering open to meet the ocean-blue ones of Sean's. "Jack?"

[Mark, it's okay. It's only me.] I moaned again, rolling onto my side. [Mark, you don't look so good. Are you feeling okay?]

"I don't... I feel... in pain..."

Jack tried to reach down to help me but was still bound to the chair. [I hate to ask this of you Mark, especially in this state, but... could you untie my bonds?]

I reached up and gripped the cords with a trembling hand, carefully working at the knot.

After what felt like hours, the knot unraveled in my palm. Jack stood instantly, dashing off to a room I hadn't seen before. I lay there, on the ground, in pain, for what seemed like years. I'm going to die here.

Hey Grovers!

Here's how this is gonna work- I've written 7 unique endings to this story, but they all lead off from different sections.

1 is the first section. 1-1 is the first ending of the first section, 1-2 is the second ending of the first section, etc

Enjoy!

This section of the story continues to

Path 1-0

Path 2-0

#willowmcplier #the shifter #jacksepticeye #sean mcloughlin #markiplier #mark fischbach #supernatural

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yokotail · 5 years ago

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TATTOO by Mama Jikook

Chapter 1. Jimin is sitting on the sofa, well, lying down, with his IPad on his knees ... He has been surfing the web for hours, stuck in pages, chats and endless games ... And without realizing he sneaks into a web of tattoos ... He is amazed by a multitude of photographs of impressive works, in black and white, in color, in 3D, of faces, animals, tribals ... -Have you seen this Kookie? - Jungkookie is also lying at Jimin's feet, but he, rather, has been sleeping soundly for a while now ... -Mmmmh?...- -If you have seen these tattoos! -Raises his voice while pushing him gently with his foot. -Mmmmnno ... -He murmurs. -Oh, some of these are incredible! ... I would like to have one done... -He’s really excited, scrolling through images, zooming, flipping his IPad to see them better ... -This one, it’s awesome!-He shrieks, getting on his knees and bouncing close to Kookie's head. -Hey! What are you doing? You're almost crushed me!-Jungkookie sits up suddenly. -What the hell is wrong with you? I was dreaming we were going back to Hawaii ...-He mutters half asleep. Jungkook lies down again and tries to sleep, but Jimin doesn’t let him. -Look, look, this is amazing!-He jumps on Kookie, placing the IPad before his nose. -What’s this?-Looks at the screen squinting his eyes. -But open your eyes, dude!-He pushes him in order to put him standing. Jungkookie opens his eyes and tilts his head to one side and then the other. -What is this?-He asks again, not understanding too much what he is seeing ... -A talisman!-Shaking Kookie by the shoulders. -A what?-The face he does makes Jimin laugh. -A good-luck charm,silly!-He laughs while slapping him on the back. -A goodluckcharmsilly?-Kookie mocks him. Jimin hits him while throwing himself on him. -Don't mock me! The ancient Egyptians put them between the layers of the bandages on the mummies, to protect the deceased on his trip to the underworld ... -Explains. Kookie's eyes open wide as he listens to his mochi's oratory. -Where have you learned all that? What's happening to you? Come back to your senses! -Jokes while pretending to slap him two times. -Ahh, it's a topic that fascinates me ... -Expresses Jimin sighing. -Oh yes? Since when are you interested in ancient Egypt?-Now, Kookie, is paying attention. -Well ... A few months ago, more or less,I found this book and ...- He gets up and goes to a shelf, takes the copy and gives it to Jungkookie. -Ahhhhrrggg a book! Evil spirit leave the body of my boyfriend! - Teases while covering his face with an expression of horror. -Shut up silly! Don’t make fun of this! -He hits him on the head with the book. -Ouch! Why did you hit me? It's very interesting what are you telling me, let me see! -Jungkookie pulls Jimin's book which was on his legs. -Well, these drawings are very well done!-He exclaims, turning the pages .. -They're hieroglyphics ...-Jimin murmurs, with sparkling eyes. -Uh, and ... what are they for? -Asks -It’s a pictorial system of writing-Jimin explains. -Did they write doodles? - Kookie is interested. -Yes, at the beginning, then they evolved until composing sentences, some of them represent letters, other words, verbs etc.- He explains, -Well, the jerofilo that you want, which is it?-Kookie wants to know. -Hieroglyphic! -Laughs Jimin Takes the book from Jungkookie's hands and pass a few pages. -This one, isn’t impressive?-He says putting his finger on the photo. -I'll have it tattooed on my cervicals ... -Comments pointing at his neck. -Buf, the company is going to allow it? -Jungkook wants to know. -In our contract, there’s nothing related to tattoos... I think ... -Answers Jimin. -What is this for? -Questions Cookie. -It's an amulet, a talisman, a hieroglyph of protection against evil ... -I suppose imagining, how it's going to fit on your skin ... Chapter 2. -Don't move, so much! -Jungkook complains -I can not heal you! - -You're hurting me!-Jimin moans. A couple of days ago that Jimin got himself tattooed and Kookie has paid to take care of him. He applies a healing cream in circles and softly, but Jimin does nothing but behave like a child with a wound. He is sitting at the foot of the bed, with his back facing the mirror on the wall and with the other hand he tries to see the tattoo. -I do not know why you cry so much, I'm applying the cream as gently as I can, you're a whiner! -Jungkookie reproaches him. -And remember you can not wet it ... -He warns. -Yeee...I know... It can’t be touched by water, until it has healed and the scab has fallen off ... You’re so tiring! -He grumbles.-How do you see it? -Looks good? -Jimin asks,trying to look in the mirror. -It's still a little red, but it looks good ... Stop moving! - He puts a piece of transparent plastic on top to protect it from rubbing and tosses him a shirt. He puts on his shirt carefully but makes grimaces of pain. -You’re so exaggerated!-Jungkookie huffs. -Ouch, it hurts! It's very sensitive, even the shirt bothers me!-Jimin complains. He sits on the sofa without leaning on his back, with the hieroglyphic book on his legs again. Jungkookie sits next to him and they both keep looking through the book about ancient Egypt ... -Hieroglyphs were very important on life and death of the Ancient Egyptians, they served both to protect them and to curse them.-Reads Jimin. He raises his hand and without realizing puts his finger on the wound to scratch it. Kookie sees him and slaps him, then Jimin stares at him... Jungkook is surprised ... Jimin's eyes are fixed on him, he has a strangely cold and dark look. Kookie touches his arm and he blinks ... -Are you okay? Are you feeling bad?- He asks while looking at his empty expression. -Ahh ... Yes ... Ahh ... For a moment I got a little distracted ... - He tries to scratch again and Kookie gently brushes his hand away ... Sitting together on the couch together, they spend the afternoon, browsing the book ... The rest of Bangtang are spending these days off with their relatives ..

Chapter 3. Jungkookie is sitting in front of his office working on his laptop, when he hears a noise behind him. -Hi, Mochi, how have you slept?-He asks Jimin, who is standing at the door. Jimin shuffles toward him, his hair is all messy and he doesn’t look well rested. He sits at his side with his strayed gaze .. Jungkook is horrified to see him .. -My God, Mochi what's wrong with you?!-He lifts his shirt to look at the tattoo. He had removed the plastic and it was healing very well, had almost no redness or scabs ... -Your tattoo is healing very fast ... Faster than usual... Well I suppose you must have a very high regenerative capacity ... -Comments in a professional tone. -It hurts ... It hurts ...!-Jimin moans and suddenly drops on the couch, lifeless like a doll. -Jimin, Jimin! What's wrong with you? -Jungkookie is scared and doesn’t dare to touch him ... He is lying on his back, his skin has turned as white as paper, his veins are highlighted blue in his arms and on his face. He breathes raggedly as if he's choking. -He's dying! Jimin, don't die!-Jungkookie panics and starts screaming. -Jimin!-He yells.-I don’t know what to do, I'm alone, there's no one else!-He grabs him by the shoulders and shakes him. He doesn’t react ... It's like he's sound asleep ... His breathing becomes frightful, cavernous ... Suddenly he opens his eyes, eyes as black as night and cold as ice... Jungkook jumps back releasing him and Jimin stays put on the sofa ... He doesn’t dare to approach or touch him... His eyes are totally open and black, his head tilted, his hair matted covers his face ... from his mouth strange sounds come... -What the heck? Jimin! What's happening to you?-Jungkookie screams, kneeling beside him, but not touching him. Guttural sounds come from Jimin's mouth, like a song, like a prayer ... -What are you saying? -Kookie asks approaching him... At that moment Jimin's hand moves quickly catching Jungkook by the neck, pulling towards him with enormous force. -Let me go! What’s wrong with you? He tries to free himself put fails... What was once Jimin, has become a beast in a few moments ... Jungkook struggles to free himself, while Jimin continues to whisper incoherent words in his ear with a terrifying voice, while pressing more his neck. -Let me go Jimin, fuck, you crazy bastard or I will hit you! Almost asphyxiated at the edge of fainting, he hits him in the face with elbow, Jimin lets go of him to cover his nose that starts to bleed. Jimin comes his senses, moaning and blinking without understanding anything ... -What are you doing? Why did you hit me?-Exclaims.

-I’m sorry mochi, I didn’t want to do it, but you were suffocating me! -Jungkookie tries to help him to stop the bleeding. -I'm bleeding, you've broken my nose and my lips! -He gets up and runs to the bathroom with Kookie behind him... Jimin looks at himself in the mirror, his lip is split and his nose is swollen ... -But what have you done to me! What happened?-He sobs -I ... I don’t know how to explain it ... You ... You were very aggressive ... You wanted to strangle me! ...- Tries to explain.- You behaved like you were possessed! -Jungkook cleans the blood as best as he can, wets a towel in cold water and applies it to his face. -Don’t touch me!-Jimin barks, -What's wrong with you? Have you gone crazy?-He shouts, pushing Jungkookie's hand away violently. -It was not you ... It was not you! You were unconscious like you were dead and suddenly ...! - babbles .. - And suddenly, what?, don’t say stupid shit Jungkook!, I don’t remember any of that bullshit!

-We were both sitting looking at the book and you go and you break my face! - Jimin storms out of the bathroom.

Chapter 4. Jimin has been locked in his room for hours, Jungkookie pounding his door, he doesn’t receive an answer ... -Jimin please open! Let me help you! I don’t know what happened! I didn’t mean to hurt you ... But it was not you ... You tried to kill me! He talks to the closed door without receiving an answer.- -Jimin please, we have to go to the hospital, so they sew your lip! ...! - Suddenly a rumble is heard, as if something had fallen to the ground and dragged several objects with it. -Jimin! Jimin! Are you okay? What's the matter? Open mochi, please!-Banging the door harder. Another rumble now of broken glass. Jungkook takes impulse and charges with his shoulder on the door trying to open it, he can not get it open, he backs off to propel himself and throws himself back against the door, which this time gives up... Jungkook pushes the broken door and enters the bedroom ... The darkness is absolute ... -Jimin?-He calls softly. -Jimin, where are you?-He pads the walls in search of a switch to turn the light on, suddenly his feet step on broken glass, in the darkness Jungkook stays still, if he keeps moving, he will really hurt himself... He looks in his back pocket for his phone, biting his lips because of the pain in his foot, turns on the flashlight and focuses on the ground. He has stepped on a piece of mirror that has been deeply embedded. -Shit!-He whispers through clenched teeth ... He sits at the end of the bed and with the light of the phone illuminates the wound. -Fuck, what a gash!-He moans in pain. When the piece of glass is about to be torn off, a noise is heard at the back of the dark bedroom ... -Jimin? Where are you? Are you okay?-He points his light on the corner where the noise comes from. There's only a pile of clothes lying on a chair. Another noise ... Jungkook points his phone trying to see ... Next to the bed, sitting on the floor with his back against the door of the closet, there is a silhouette ... -Jimin ... We have to go to the hospital ... They have to cure us ... -Jungkook limping closer to the lifeless figure on the floor. -Jimin ... -Approaches his hand to touch him, but when he is only inches from his head, he hears a sound that is both known and terrifying. -Shit!-Jungkook has not been fast enough and the claw of the beast catches him again. In the darkness, Jimin's eyes shine frightfully black and cold, from his mouth flow again those strange words, that horrible song, that dark prayer ... -Fuck, not again!-Jungkook tries to release his wrist, but the is even stronger than in his first attack ... -Let me go!-He yells as the monster grabs him by the neck again and starts tightening again... -I won’t let you go ... You have to come with us ... Don’t fight ... Come with us ... -Whispers The voice of the beast, is heard farther and farther from Jungkookie ... Weakened by the loss of blood he faints.

When he regains consciousness he can’t move, his hands and feet are tied, he doesn’t know for how long he has been lying on the ground. He tries to sit up but he doesn’t see Jimin but he can hear him, he hears his awful prayer, his lugubrious song ... -Jimin what are you doing... Let me go... We have to seek for help ... You're sick ...I beg you. The monster doesn’t answer, there are only slight scratches on the walls and its endless litany. -Jimin ... -Calls him again ... Jungkookie realizes that he is no longer in the bedroom, his eyes have become accustomed to the lack of light and can see where he is. He is tied by his hands and feet lying on the sofa, the blinds are almost completely lowered to prevent sunlight, but in the gloom discovers with horror, to what the monster has been spending time ... All the walls are covered with hieroglyphics .. Made with blood ... His blood ... His cut on the foot has stopped bleeding, it seems that while he was unconscious he has torn off the piece of glass and bandaged the wound. -Jimin-He calls again.-Free me ... - -I'm not him-Responds the thing beside him. Jungkook screams terrified to see it so close, what is becoming his boyfriend .. His black, cold, dead eyes look like two deep holes in his pale face covered with small blue veins, as if the ink of the tattoo had spread all over his skin. -I'm not him ... -Repeats while grabbing Jungkook's foot to remove the bandage. -Don't touch me! Let me know what you're going to do! -Let me go! -He screams even more when the thing meddles the wound to make it bleed again. -I'm not him ... My name is Ra Hedjet, high priest of the almighty god Anubis ... And I need more blood ... -Mutters smiling, with the white teeth of his beloved Jimin ... Jungkook is getting dizzy again because of the pain and the loss of blood. -Why do you want my blood? Damn whatever your name is? Why do you do this to Jimin? Go away and leave us alone! -Screams while trying to kick him. Ra Hedjet already has more of Jungkook’s blood to continue his writings ... -Your blood is the essence for my words, it’s the connection with the beyond, it’s a door for the spirits, it is the entrance to the underworld ... All will come to me and I ... Ra Hedjet will dominate you all ..-- -Damn spirit leave this body that doesn’t belong to you, how in the fucking hell did you get into it?-He yells, as it continues to paint all the walls. - He wrote my name ... He called me ... He carries my symbol ... My amulet ... - Responds while he rips his clothes. Jungkook is horrified to see Jimin’s skin, the tattoo has grown to cover his entire back, arms, legs, torso, almost his entire body is covered in ink ... It leans over Jungkook to whisper ... -It is I, Ra Hedjet... I'm a priest of the almighty god Anubis.

Chapter 5. -When the ink covers your entire body ... It will ... You won’t be able to stop it ... -The tattooed beast moves away to continue with his morbid task. Jungkook is still lying and tied, his injured foot has stopped bleeding, this time the high priest has not even bothered to cover it ... His gaze rests on the broken glasses with which he had himself cut a few hours ago, maybe if he gets one he could use it to cut the strips of cloth with which he is tied... He rolls over until he falls to the ground a few centimeters from a huge piece of glass, he takes it with both hands and passes it through the bonds until he manages to free himself ... The tattooed monster has his back towards him, his naked body shows the fast advance of the damned ink, in a few hours Jimin will no longer be Jimin ... And all this will end very badly... Jungkook crawls bleeding now also by the hands, looking for a place to hide, where to think ... There is something in his mind, something that Jimin said of the protection hieroglyphs, against the spirits of the underworld ... In the background he continues to hear the song, the intelligible prayer of the monster that gradually rises it’s pitch as it stains more walls with blood. -The answer is in the book ...-Jungkook mumbles as he tries to crawl to the shelf where the copy was that hours earlier they had been consulting. -Wait ... Stop! Is this yours?-Kookie asked, pointing to a picture. -No, it looks like but it's not, the mine is this other-Pointing to another picture. Jungkookie remained thoughtful while comparing the images and texts. -What's wrong, Kookie?-Jimin asks. -Nothing ... I don’t think it's important ... -He whispered without too much conviction -Let me see ... - Jimin asked - It seems that there has been a small mistake ... The tattooist has confused the hieroglyphs ... Well I don’t think that some small differences are important. - Jimin commented. So, I didn’t know the serious consequences. That would cause these small differences on that tattoo. Leaning on his healthy foot, he clings to the shelf as best as he can to pick up the book about ancient Egypt, but with his wounded hands he slips and the whole shelf full of books collapses on his head. Ra Hedjet has heard the noise that the books made as they fell, and moves at full speed towards him …

Chapter 6. The wounded foot of Jungkook peeks out from under all the specimens and the almost fully tattooed Anubis high priest holds him tightly pulling him. -Where are you going, mortal wretch? What do you intend to do?-He whispers, bringing closer his face almost covered in ink. At that moment Jungkook sticks a piece of glass in its hand ... Screaming painfully, Jimin blinks and for a moment his eyes recover life and light .. -Kookie, is it you?, Help me please! You have to reverse the curse! You have to mutilate the hieroglyph! -Sobs while grabbing his bloody hands tightly. A second passes and the sweet eyes are swallowed by the evil darkness. -There’s almost no empty skin ... He's almost ... Ra Hedjet ... -Sentences. The beast turns around, to contemplate his work ... The blood of the walls radiates an unnatural light as if a destructive energy flowed through it, the sound of the song reaches a deafening volume ... -Soon the portal will be opened and we will all be here... We will be all here... -Repeats. -I don’t think so... If I can help it... -Jungkook whispers rising to his feet. -Forgive me, Jimin, I love you!-He shrieks as he throws himself on the back of Anubis's high priest and sticks a piece of crystal into the back of its neck. The beast feeling hurt, twists trying to shake Jungkook off that resists nailing more the piece of glass until tearing the skin of the tattoo. At that moment the walls full of blood crack... And makes such a tremendous explosion, that the whole apartment flies through the air like a macabre confetti …

Final chapter When the firefighters arrive, the ambulances, the police and the other members ... The dust hasn’t dissipated at all... Nobody understands what happened ... Why are the walls that are still standing, covered with drawings made with blood ...? -What happened? Are there any survivors?-Asks an anxious RM at the firefighter chief -We still don’t know ... It could have been a gas leak, a short circuit ... -teorizes. -And Jungkook ... and Jimin? And the drawings made with blood?-Suga asks. Then the rescue team gives the alarm ... -Here, there's someone here!-They shout RM, Suga and the others run towards the group of firefighters who are moving debris. Between two large pieces of material emerge two hands tightly clasped, covered in cuts and dried blood ... THE END....?

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#jikook #credits to the user Mamá JIkook #this is not mine #it's posted with their respective owner permission #please visit her page Mamá JIkook #kookmin

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meowmeow-motherfucker · 5 years ago

Text

Domesticity Interrupted

Dean and Austyn struggled to create a peaceful life after Sam went into the cage. They managed to do just that until their past came calling. DARK FIC

CONTENT/TRIGGER WARNINGS: attempted sexual assault, torture, mind games, name-calling, soulless Sam being an all-around dick

Read it on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20346418

This is part of the Seven Deadly Sins challenge by @siren-kitten-his. My choices were Envy, and Sam and Dean.

When Sam came back from hell without his soul, it made a lot of things easier. All the rules he’d lived by his whole life (be honest, protect innocent people, etc) were irksome, so Sam decided to follow his own rules. He did what he wanted, when he wanted, and to whom he wanted.

Which is how he ended up tracking his brother and his longtime girlfriend all the way up to Maine. Sam (pre-Hell Sam, that is) had been foolishly in love with Austyn ever since they’d picked her up in Wyoming. Dean had been too, and of course Austyn chose the older Winchester, oblivious to Sam’s yearning for her. Maybe things would have been different if she’d known, but Sam would never know.

What he did know was that Austyn and Dean were playing house in Lowelltown, Maine, just across the border from Quebec. And he was going to pay them a visit.

~/~

Sam used to look up to his big brother. Wanted to be just like him. Thought he was the strongest, fastest, smartest son of a bitch to walk the earth. Looking at Dean’s unconscious form, tied to the dining chair, Sam thought his old self was an idiot. Dean Winchester had been easily duped, thrilled as he was to see his baby brother back among the living. He’d been real surprised when Sam took a swing at him, breaking his nose and making him stagger. It only took another hit to take him down, and about ten minutes to find some rope in the garage and tie Dean to the chair.

Then he got to work.

~/~

The sound of a car approaching pulled Sam’s attention from his task. Perfect timing. He’d just finished setting things up the way he wanted. He heard the front door open and moved to the hallway, still out of sight but with a view into the kitchen where he’d left Dean tied up.

“Babe, I’m home! Who’s car is out front?” he heard Austyn calling from the front door. “Babe?” Footsteps sounded in the living room, walking deeper into the house. A few more and she’d see Dean where Sam left him. “Dean?” More footsteps, and a shriek as Dean no doubt came into view. “Oh my god, Dean!”

Sam peered around the wall to see Austyn on her knees in front of Dean, cradling his face and pleading with him to wake up.

“Hello Austyn.” Austyn flinched at the sound of his voice, staring up at him in alarm.

“Sam! What- How are you here?” he could see the wheels turning in her head. “You did this?” She looked so heartbroken at the idea that he’d intentionally set out to hurt Dean.

“Barely took any effort. It was kind of embarrassing, actually.” Austyn made a noise of disgust, before shooting to her feet and making a mad dash toward the garage when the guns were locked in a safe.

Which Sam had already emptied.

He made no attempt to follow, knowing she’d have to come back through the house if she wanted to get out.

A scream of outrage let him know that Austyn had discovered the empty safe.

He hadn’t expected Austyn to start ripping into the storage boxes in the garage. He hadn’t thought to check those.

He definitely hadn’t expected her to throw a fucking bear trap at him, or attack him with a baseball bat.

Sam had to grudgingly admit he was impressed, and more than a little turned on. Austyn had always had a temper.

He grunted when her swing hit his ribs, staggering a little when her fist connected with his face. She kicked him in the chest, screaming with pain when he caught her foot and twisted. She fell to the floor next to Dean, shoving the bat up toward Sam’s face like a spear when he bent down to grab her. He fell back, roaring with anger and pain when she cracked his nose. Holding his nose with one hand he pulled the bat from her grasp, throwing it aside and smashing a window. Austyn screamed, fingers tugging uselessly at Dean’s flannel when Sam hauled her up from the floor. She lashed out with her fists, blacking his eye and splitting his lip.

“You really shouldn’t have done that,” Sam growled, carrying her down the hall and throwing her down on the bed. He moved to cuff her, punching her in the face when she clawed at his face with her nails. Austyn fell silent, her body going limp as she blacked out.

~/~

The overcast sun was in a different position when Austyn regained consciousness. She squinted against the bright light, turning her head away from the window. Her whole body hurt, and she went to stretch, freezing in fear as she remembered Sam knocking her out.

“‘Bout time you woke up,” Sam said from his seat in the lounge chair. Austyn could see the lake through the bay window beside him. Normally she loved the view from her and Dean’s bedroom, but now she hated it. “It’s no fun if you’re asleep.”

“Unconscious,” Austyn corrected. “You knocked me out.” Sam shrugged, a nonchalant dismissal of her biting tone.

“Same difference.”

“Where-” Austyn swallowed the lump in her throat. “Where is Dean?”

“Oh, don’t worry about him,” Sam waved off her concern. “He won’t bother us.”

“Did you kill him?” Austyn asked tearfully.

“Nah. I did knock him back out though. He wouldn’t shut up, you know? ‘Sammy, stop.’ ‘Why are you doing this?’ ‘Don’t you hurt her, Sammy.’” Sam’s voice dropped into a deep register as he mocked his brother. “Got annoying after a while,” Sam shook his head. “You ever get tired of listening to his bullshit? That’s not important, just an errant thought. What is important, is the game we’re gonna play.”

“You tied us up so you could play a game?” Austyn hissed.

“It’s a truth-telling game. See, I’m gonna ask you questions, and you’re gonna be honest with me, or I’ll hurt you.”

“And what happens when you’re out of questions?”

“We’ll cross that bridge if we get to it. And I mean what I said about being honest. Lie to me, and this will be the least of your worries,” Sam grabbed her injured ankle and tilted her foot, making her whimper in protest. “Aw, does it hurt? You gonna cry about it?”

“Ask me your fucking questions!” Austyn groaned angrily. “Go ahead, Sammy.” Sam growled angrily at the nickname, pulling a knife from his jeans and brandishing it inches from the exposed skin of her midriff.

“You ever think about me when you’re fucking Dean?”

“What?!”

“Remember what I said about lying, bitch,” Sam said darkly, pressing the cool blade against her skin. “Answer the question.”

“No.” Austyn said firmly, crying out in pain when Sam sliced her skin.

“Tell me the truth, Austyn.” Sam said calmly.

“I just didfuuuuck!” The knife cut her skin again, Sam watching intently as she writhed and cried.

“Next question.” he said calmly when she’d quieted down.

“What do you think is gonna happen, Sam?” Austyn asked, grimacing through the pain of each breath. Every movement pulled at her bleeding skin. “You think you’re gonna ask your stupid questions and I’ll suddenly see the error of my ways and leave Dean for you?” she laughed. “What do you want me to say, huh? That I used to have a crush on both of you?”

“I think that’s the most honest thing you’ve said all day,” Sam replied, a smirk tugging up the corner of his mouth. “Tell me more.”

“There’s nothing more to tell.”

“See, you’re lying again,” Sam chuckled, waving the knife at her in disapproval. He tipped her chin up with the blade, forcing her to meet his eyes. “Don’t push your luck,” he said, his tone bordering on gentle. “You wanna know what I think really happened?”

“Don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

“Good girl, you’re learning,” Sam praised, patting her head heavily. Austyn grimaced and turned away, grunting in pain when he pulled her hair painfully. “Look at me when I’m talking to you,” he snarled. “Where was I?” Austyn remained silent, glaring at him disdainfully. “You know, this isn’t any fun if you don’t talk back.” Austyn sighed.

“You were about to tell me what really happened.” She said flatly, gasping when Sam slapped her across the face.

“Keep up the attitude. I can hit you a lot harder than that,” Sam promised darkly as she probed her bleeding lip with her tongue. “As I was saying, I think you wanted both of us. But poor little Austyn couldn’t make up her mind, so she strung us both along until she finally did,” Sam’s hand shot out and grabbed her face roughly, forcing her to look at him. “Admit it, whore, you wanted me,” Austyn opened her mouth to speak but Sam held up a finger to stop her. “Make sure you speak up, so Dean can hear you.”

“Maybe I did,” Austyn replied through her puckered mouth. “But I chose Dean. And I didn’t need you to prove I made the right choice, but damn if you didn’t do it.” She laughed through the pain, holding his gaze. Her laughter turned to screams of agony when Sam buried the knife deep in her thigh. She struggled to get free from Sam’s grip on her face, but he just held tighter, drinking in her agony as she screamed to the rafters.

“Hear that, Dean?” Sam called mockingly. “Your girl is loyal to a fault.”

“I’ll kill you, you son of a bitch! You hear me?! I’ll kill you!” Dean thundered from the kitchen.

“Dean!” Austyn whimpered in relief, overjoyed to hear that he was still alive. “Dean!” she sobbed. “Pleasepleasepleaseplease.”

“Aw, poor baby,” Sam mocked over her wracking sobs. “Can you hear her, Dean? She’s begging for you somethin’ fierce.”

“It’s okay, baby, I’ll get us out! I’m comin’ for you!” Dean shouted, pulling against his restraints when Austyn screamed again. He could only imagine what Sam was doing to her. Sam had covered his head with some kind of bag, and the only sense he had was his hearing.

“Good luck getting past the bear traps.” He heard Sam say. Austyn whimpered out a noplease that made Sam smile.

“Tell you what, babygirl. You let me satisfy that burning curiosity of yours and I’ll set you free.”

“What?” Austyn wheezed, eyes shining with tears as she looked up at him. The fear on her face was delightful.

“Come on, Wyatt! What happened to that honesty?” Sam laughed.

“It’s not Wyatt anymore, asshole.” She made a fist, the glittering on her left hand catching Sam’s attention.

“Now, how did I miss that?” Sam asked. “I bet Dean’s matches, doesn’t it? How was it? Was it everything you hoped it’d be?” he sighed, pretending to swoon as he mocked her.

“Except for you missing, yes,” Austyn scowled. “It broke his heart that you weren’t there. You should have been.”

“And what about you, hmm? Did it break your heart too?” Sam asked, slicing another cut into her arm and making her grimace in pain.

“It used to,” Austyn admitted. “But now I’m glad you weren’t, you hear me? I’m glad we listened to you and didn’t try to bring you back! How’s that for honesty?” She spat in his face. Sam shot back, grimacing as he wiped the moisture off his face.

“Well there goes any chance you had of me being nice,” he sneered. Austyn laughed sarcastically. “Shut up.”

“ This is you being nice? God, if this is nice, I don’t want to see mean.”

“No?” Sam leaned back over her, pressing the knife to her arm. “How about I slice open that vein and watch you bleed out while I fuck that pretty pussy?” Austyn whimpered, pressing her head into the pillow to get away from him when he loomed closer. Her stomach clenched in fear as he teased her flesh with the tip of the blade.

“No.” she managed weakly.

“‘No’? That’s all I get? ‘No’?!” Sam imitated her. “No sympathy for your recently-returned-from-the-dead brother in law? I’ve always wondered your pussy felt like. You know, tracking you two down was the first thing I did when I got back?”

“Because you missed Dean?” Austyn suggested hopefully. She was holding out hope that if she kept Sam distracted long enough then Dean could escape.

“Actually, no,” Sam ticked his head to the side. “My first thought was how you’d feel wrapped around my cock.”

“Sammy, no!” Dean bellowed. “Whatever this is about you take it out on me; you let her go!”

“You’re no longer part of this conversation, Dean!” Sam slammed the door with a thunderous crash, drowning out both Dean and Austyn when they called out for the other. “There, that’s better. Just you and me now, Wyatt,” he said, pulling off his heavy jacket. “Oh sorry, Winchester . Fuckin’ adorable.” His hands went to his belt and Austyn’s stomach dropped.

“Oh god,” she whimpered, every muscle in her body squeezing with fright. “Sam, stop, you don’t wanna do this.”

“I don’t?”

“Whatever brought this on you’re still you, Sam. Deep down you know this is all kinds of fucked up.”

“Hmm, no, don’t think so,” Sam shook his head. “See, in order to have a conscience, you gotta have a soul.”

“You don’t have a soul? Is that what this is?” Austyn asked, pulling at her restraints anxiously when Sam stepped closer. “Sam, stop, please . We can help you, you know we can-” Sam pressed the knife against her cheek, stunning her into silence.

“I don’t want your help.” He lingered for a moment, tracing the blade along her lower lip before turning away. Austyn swallowed, her throat burning with overexertion and the urge to cry.

“You could have killed Dean and you didn’t. You showed him mercy.” She pressed. Sam actually laughed at her.

“You think that was mercy?” he asked. “Oh Austyn...see, that’s what I always liked about you. Always so positive,” He sneered, cutting into her thigh and making her cry out in pain. “Mercy will come after.”

“After what, Sam? After you kill me?” Austyn prodded.

“I mean, it’s not exactly part of the plan, but if you happen to die, I can live with it. But Dean, oh Dean will. You see, when he sees what’s become of you, he’ll have no one to blame but himself. And right when he sinks into despair...BANG! That will be my mercy.”

“Oh my god, you’re so fucked up!” Austyn shouted, tears of hopelessness wetting her hair and the pillow beneath her head as she sobbed. The bed dipped and her eyes flew open, centering on Sam’s hulking frame as he lumbered onto the bed. “Oh my god, no. Sam, no! Get the hell away from me!” she pleaded as his hands undid her jeans. “Stop stopSamstoooop! I don’t want thisIdon’tIdon’t-” Austyn’s voice failed her, her tearful scream for Dean trailing off as Sam tugged her jeans down her bloodied thighs.

CRACK

Clickpfwerrrrrsnick

A dart embedded in Sam’s neck, and Sam looked confused for a brief moment before his body sagged and he crumpled to the floor. Dean leaned heavily against the wall, breathing raggedly.

“You okay baby? Please, god, please be okay.”

“I’m okay,” Austyn sobbed in relief. “Dean!”

“It’s okay, I got you,” Dean said soothingly as he reached for the restraints, with trembling fingers. “God, Austyn, I’m so sorry.”

“What the fuck was that?!” Austyn asked hoarsely as she gingerly rubbed her sore and bleeding wrists.

“Tranquilizer gun. S’enough in there to take down a moose,” Dean said. Austyn sagged against him in relief as he helped her sit up, clinging to him tightly as she cried. “It’s okay baby, you’re okay-”

“Dean-”

“I know, baby. I’m right here,” Dean soothed her, brushing the tears from her face gingerly as he fought back his own. “I got you.” Dean undid the cuff around her ankles, being extra careful with the one Sam had injured.

Austyn wrapped her arms around his neck as soon as they were free, sobbing into his shoulder as he carried her from the house and out into the Impala.

“Are you okay?” she asked weakly, cupping his face in her hand. “The bear traps-”

“I’m fine. The bastard lied,” Dean shook his head. “Are you serious right now? You’re worried about me when you-” he scowled, burning tears tracking down his face. “God, I’m so fucking sorry.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Dean!”

“Are you kidding?” Dean scoffed. “I should have tested him, I should have fought back harder, I should’ve-”

“Dean, you couldn’t have known. This isn’t on you.”

“Yeah, well, I beg to differ. I’m supposed to keep you safe and I failed. I failed you, Austyn .”

“You saved me, Dean,” Austyn corrected, kissing the back of his hand as she clutched it in hers. “What are we gonna do about- What are we gonna do?” she sniffled, wiping her face as she tried to focus. “If we leave he’s just gonna find us again.”

“I’m gonna fucking kill him.”

“How? He took all the guns out of the safe.” Dean scowled and reached under the drivers side of the bench seat, pulling out a 9 mm.

“He missed this one.”

“Dean.” Austyn stopped him. She knew what Sam meant to Dean. Despite what just happened, she didn’t want him to regret it if there was even a chance of Sam being Sam again.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Dean shook his head. “That wasn’t Sam, okay? Look at what he did to you! You said it yourself; he’ll only track us down again if we leave him,” He checked the clip, setting the safety and stowing the gun in the back of his jeans before handing her the keys. “If I don’t make it out-”

“Stop it,” Austyn shook her head. “I’m not leaving with you.”

“Just take the goddamn keys, please? I need to know you’ll be safe. Okay? I have to .” Those green eyes shimmered and Austyn knew Dean would keep her safe if it was the last thing he ever did.

“Okay.” she choked out.

“Promise me.” Dean held out his pinkie and Austyn sobbed, unable to think about living a life without this stubborn idiot.

“Promise.” she whispered, hooking her pinkie around his and laughing when he kissed her.

“I love you.”

“I love you more.”

“Not possible.” Dean kissed her forehead and pulled away, shutting the car door behind him before walking back into the house.

Austyn waited in tense silence, keys in the ignition and poised to start the car should Sam walk out the door.

She knew it was coming, but she still screamed in anguish when she heard the gunshot.

#dark fic #kitten's seven deadly sins #supernatural #soulless sam #torture #attempted rape #mind games #name-calling #helpless Dean #envy #sam and dean

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stuffandnosense · 6 years ago

Text

Harvest in Fire - Plance

Description: The inhabitants of a small trading village take it upon themselves to punish Lance and Pidge for Voltron’s disappearance.

Warnings: Violence, blood, etc

***

“Hey, what are you doing!”

Lance cries out as an unseen hand yanks him back by his hood, pulling hair as they yank it down from his head to expose his face. Other rough hands are reaching for his arms, reaching for Pidge, locking them in the center of the quickly-forming mob. He blinks in the fine drizzle of rain his eyes are now subject to.

There was a reaction as soon as the word ‘Voltron’ fell from his lips. He should have kept his mouth shut. Why couldn’t he keep his mouth shut?

“You’re paladins of Voltron!”

The stall owner’s sharp cry brought eyes from across the market. His hands snapped to Pidge’s arm, ready to drag her away, but they were surrounded too quickly. Angry pedestrians and some kind of local law enforcement.

Why didn’t they bring their bayards? Why did he have to open his quiznaking mouth? They could have found what they needed cheaper somewhere else without him trying to—

“Watch it!” Pidge snarls, yanking her leg up as if someone stepped on her foot.

“Let her go!” Lance demands. Does he think they’ll really listen? Not really...but…

“Let HIM go,” Pidge retorts.

“You’re throwing off my groove, Pidge.” But for a moment the guilt tying a knot in his chest loosens. Pidge rolling her eyes at him is almost a relief; it comes with a certain fondness.

“It’d probably be a good idea to say something ELSE now!” she says.

Lance pulls back at the hands trapping his arms and only gains the butt of some kind of staff to face to show for it. “OW! Hey, what’s going on! We’re here to help!”

There’s so much shouting he can scarcely make any of it out. It’s hardly more than noise. But he can tell they’re angry as they drag him and Pidge toward the center of the small village.

Someone else—more than one someone else, he thinks—snatches at his jacket again, pulling it entirely free from his body so violently his shoulders wrench. “Ahhhh...hey, give that back!” He shouts, trying to cover the cry of pain. He glares at the smirking alien who has it now. “Wouldn’t look good on you, anyway!”

The crowd is so thick he doesn’t see the wide tree stump until the hands pulling at him spin him around and shove him forward to all but slam into it. About stomach-height, it knocks the breath out of him for a moment—long enough for his wrists to be secured in one of the sets of thick metal manacles fixed to the stump by steaks driven through the short chains.

“Lance!”

Across from him are wide honey eyes, eyebrows pushed high above them as Pidge yanks at her own chains. The stump is nearly chest high for her.

Lance is coughing, trying to get his breath back enough to protest. “What…!” Another cough. “What are you doing!” he demands.

His gaze jumps around the crowd surrounding them, looking for a sympathetic face, but he finds none. At least they finally have a little space now. The people are pulling back, clearing an area around the stump.

Voices finally start to stick out from the noise as it starts to die—as many go quiet as if anticipating something.

“Our lives are miserable thanks to you!”

“With no Voltron, what’s left of the Galra raid our villages!”

“We can barely feed our families!”

There’s more—accusation after accusation—but Lance almost stops hearing them for the buzzing in his ears. He feels almost lightheaded.

The angry mob begins to look less like a mob and more like a crowd of desperate families. Just people, trying to survive. Parents and children. Shop owners. Farmers like his parents.

“Lance...” Pidge says again. This time it’s a gasp, and when he catches her eyes, they’re damp. He can see what he’s thinking in her eyes.

What if this IS our fault?

The thick circle around them parts for a middle-aged-looking purple alien wearing some sort of colorful vest; everyone seems to defer to him. They look to him and the shouting goes silent.

“What should we do with them, Magistrate?”

The alien in the vest narrows his eyes, and Lance’s stomach drops. If there’s going to be a time to speak up…

“We didn’t mean to be gone for so long! There was an accident...weird...w-weird science stuff; we lost time. We couldn’t get back sooner. We didn’t mean to—”

“Silence!”

“He’s telling the truth!” Pidge speaks up. “The time dilation was caused by—”

“Speak out of turn again, and I will have one of you killed where you stand!”

Pidge closes her mouth. Her eyes are wide again, and Lance holds a breath. Surely they don’t mean that...but…

Oh god, maybe they do. And he can’t risk it. Not with Pidge.

The crowd is just as silent. The magistrate circles them and the stump, coming to a stop at a wooden rack of instruments at the edge of the cobblestone square surrounding the stump, before the roads become thatch and mud beyond it.

Two aliens stand beside it, waiting.

The magistrate reaches for what looks like a whip made of woven blades of thick grass; not quite rope, but somehow stiffer like leather would be. Some kind of native plant or something…a stiff handle wrapped tightly in some sort of burlap-like fabric for grip gives ways to several short tails embedded with what looks like bits of rocks and glass at the ends.

Lance presses his knees into the stump to hide them nearly giving way beneath him; his heart is beating so hard his chest hurts. Across, from him, the stump isn’t so wide he can’t hear Pidge’s breaths start to come shorter and more shallow.

The magistrate hands over the whip to one of the two aliens waiting beside the rack, and the other picks up a second.

“Thirty for each of them and then into the cellars until I decide what to do with them.”

No. His breath catches, and Lance can’t let this happen. He can’t. Not to Pidge. Not when this is his fault.

“Wait…!” he croaks. If they kill anyone just for him speaking, maybe it will at least be him. “Don’t hurt her!” he says in a rush, before they can decide to. “I’ll-I’ll take hers, I’ll—!”

“Lance, shut up!” Pidge hisses. The chains are just long enough for her to reach his hands and clasp at them. “You can’t do that; you’ll die!”

He throws her a glance, apologetic but not backing down. “Wouldn’t be the first time,” he mumbles.

“Lance…!”

“J-just let her go and you can do what you want with me!”

Pidge growls. “Ignore him; he’s an idiot!”

He knows she doesn’t mean it—or he hopes she doesn’t—but Lance winces anyway. The magistrate, at least, is focusing on him now, crossing to him and pushing into his face until he almost has to lean backward.

His breath stutters in his chest, but he holds the alien’s gaze. If it’s some sort of test, he can only hope he’s passing.

When the magistrate pulls abruptly away, he huffs. “If you are content to die, then very well,”

He motions sharply to Lance as he backs off, giving the go ahead. Pidge is shouting in protest and for a moment there is the thrill of victory even as his stomach sinks to his feet and something in him begins to tremble.

All of him. It’s all of him trembling.

“We will not hurt her, but we will not let her go,” the magistrate adds.

“What?” Lance gasps. The burly aliens with the whips are closing in on him and he can’t breathe anymore. There are hands at his back, and the cool flat of a knife blade sends a shiver up his spine; his shirt is cut open and up the arms and everything from his waist up is left bare. “W-w-wait, no, let her go!”

“I’ll take mine!” Pidge shouts, but no one is listening anymore. Her fingernails are biting into his hands as she squeezes them.

Lance squeezes back because he has no other way to brace himself other than his knees already pressing back into the stump. The crowd is pressing closer but not too close, eager for the spectacle as the aliens with the whips take positions on either side of him.

Pidge is too close. Too close if they leave her there. Lance fights through the panic stealing his air as he pushes back against her hands gripping his to reach through her fingers, up for her face, beckoning. Begging.

“Pidge, get down! Pidge!” It comes out like a sob; he’s relatively certain that’s the only thing that gets her attention.

When she catches his gaze, there are already angry, frightened tears in her eyes. “No...!”

“Pidge, please…!”

It’s probably only reflex that makes her do it, in the end, but when she ducks down to hide her face against the top of the stump Lance seizes the chance to drop down, to cover her with his own head and arms—as far as he can go before the chains stop him.

Just in time before the first lash falls across his back like clawing fire.

***

Pidge doesn’t mean to duck. She catches the swing of the whip from the corner of her eyes and ducks automatically.

Immediate regret churns her stomach when a shocked shriek from Lance echoes near her ears as he drops over her head and arms.

“Lance…!” she gasps.

His breath shudders above her, maybe in pain and maybe anticipation of the second blow she hasn’t heard yet.

One hand he pulled free when she ducked, to wrap an arm around her head and shoulders, but the fingers of his other hand are still clutched between hers, trapped against the top of the stump beneath her chest now. They flinch when that next blow falls, Lance’s scream trailing off into a dry, shaking sob that ends in a whimper.

“Oh god,” he breathes. Beyond him the crowd is shouting, jeering...

Pidge chokes back a sob of her own.

That was only two. Oh quiznak, that was only two…

The next few seem to come at uneven intervals, surely on purpose, the waiting only there to make the anxiety worse. Both of them scarcely breathe between unless it’s to gasp out a sob. She knows hers aren’t dry, and before much longer her neck is damp from Lance’s tears. She squeezes his fingers tighter to let him know she’s there in the only way she can with her tongue tied in her mouth.

Her heart beats overtime as her mind runs over itself calculating, desperate to find some way the math comes out that Lance might survive this if the others don’t get to them in time.

On Earth the Romans could once kill someone with 40 lashes or less, but their whips were leather and these don’t seem as stiff. There are fewer tails...particulates are still tied into it—it will still be tearing flesh, but the pieces aren’t large, but...but the aliens are a little larger than the typical human. Probably stronger…

The data goes back and forth through her mind half a dozen times in a moment, but it never comes out any better.

Lance is going to die. Protecting her.

“Lance,” she whispers, between blows. “Lance…” Quiet enough no one else can hear but hopefully loud enough that he can. If he still has enough presence of mind to listen.

“You don’t have to do this,” she chokes quietly. “Don’t let them kill you…!”

His breath catches as he tries to answer her. “I...t’s my fault...my...”

Pidge doesn’t have time to say anything else before he stiffens over her with the next crack of the whip and a strangled cry pierces her aching ears. The blows are coming faster now.

“That doesn’t mean you have to die!”

Lance doesn’t answer, and when he starts to slip away from her she pulls back to clutch at his arm as he collapses, searching for his face as he slips to his knees against the stump. His arm slips through her grasp, but she catches his hand and holds on to both of them again.

“Lance!”

The edges of the wood on either side of his body are already damp with the blood dripping down his sides. Pidge doesn’t know why it’s the first thing she really sees when her head is free, but her heart stutters in her chest.

His hands squeeze around hers, his only lifeline, bleary, wet eyes seizing hers.

“Hang on,” she cries. What else is she supposed to say? Don’t die?

She can’t see his back, really, but she recoils at the movement of the next lash falling across it. She sees the force with which it falls for the first time rather than merely hearing it—the tails curling around to grip into his side and the way his body jerks when the alien yanks the whip away again, bringing skin and bits of flesh with it. She can’t quite tell, but the ends of them could be reaching as far around him as his chest and stomach. The rocks and glass could be raking all of it.

Is that why Lance can’t seem to be able to breathe well anymore? It isn’t just pain, is it? His hair is already plastered to his forehead with sweat, and his chest heaves in shallow, rapid breaths that only seem to make everything worse.

“Pidge…” His eyes snap shut briefly with the next blow, a sobbing cry wracking his shoulders. “‘M…’m sorry,” he gasps. He opens his eyes again only for one of the tails of the whip to catch his cheek on the next strike.

“Keep your head down…!”

Lance is already dropping it, burying his face against a lacerated arm. His wails are muffled there, but it doesn’t help.

It doesn’t help at all. Pidge is shaking as much as he is.

How many strikes? How many left? She meant to be counting, but she lost it long ago. She doesn’t know. She can’t even guess. Too many. When his sobbing trails away to silence and his hands go limp in hers she panics, lurching forward over the stump, whips be quiznaked.

“Lance! Lance!”

The aliens stop. Thank god, they stop. One of them moves in to drag his head up by his hair, but it’s clear Lance is unconscious and it’s going to take more than that to rouse him. His breaths are still coming short and shallow, but there’s no response.

Pidge is hoping they’ll stop. At least for now. Something. But the alien draws back as if to hit him.

“Don’t!” she cries. “Don’t wake him up! You don’t have to wake him up! Just let me do it! I’ll take the rest, please!”

They just stare at her at first, but the magistrate at least appears to be listening.

The idea that they might actually listen to her gives her more air in her chest—the ache eases, just a little—but what’s going to happen if they do sets her shivering harder than before. “Y-you’ll kill him...please...please d-d-don’t kill him. I’ll ta-take them, please…”

She can scarcely see the magistrate anymore, really, for the tears in her eyes, but she can see him shrug, finally...finally. Pidge gasps in anxious relief; everything in her tenses in fear, but she allows herself the moment of victory.

Lance isn’t going to die. At least...not right now.

A blade catches the collar of her shirt, and maybe out of some semblance of decency, the alien behind her stops the cut halfway or so down her back. The severed sides of the top of her shirt are roughly pushed out to expose most of her back, but her arms and chest are still covered. Somewhat protected.

Lance isn’t awake to help her brace herself, but she squeezes his hands anyway. If he hasn’t woken by now, that surely won’t wake him. And it’s all she has.

Pidge hears herself screaming almost before she really feels the first blow. It isn’t just stinging and biting; it’s fire ripping across her skin, cutting into her flesh. It’s as excruciating as she was sure it had to be, after what it did to Lance, and it’s somehow so much worse at the same time.

When the second blow falls, Lance’s fingers twitch in her tightening grip when she shrieks.

“Wh…” A deep groan as he stirs, but she can’t really see him.

It hurts. It hurts it hurts it—

Pidge screams through a sob as a third strike claws into her, and a fourth quickly after it from the other side. She thinks she hears a panicked, breathless call of her name, but it’s weak. She isn’t sure if she imagined it, but she can’t be imagining the sudden flash of light. Her ears are ringing, strangely enough, but not so much she can’t make out the whine of charging weapons and the voice that echoes through the square.

“Drop them! Drop them now!”

Keith.

She sobs again, but this time in relief.

Hunk, Krolia, and Keith’s growling wolf are keeping the crowd at bay and, Pidge presumes, the aliens behind her away. Clattering sounds make her think they listened and dropped the whips and any other weapons.

She doesn’t know what alerted their friends—they were miles away collecting water; they aren't even in armor—but she has never been so glad to see them.

Allura is with them too, glaring down the aliens as Keiths cuts the chains between their manacles...and Pidge has never seen Keith so furious as the look on his face when he leans close enough to cut hers. She’s never seen Allura so clearly shaking with rage as she is now, once she glances down to take in their wounds.

“How could you do this?” the princess snaps, hot and accusing.

“You allowed the Galra to ruin everything we have worked for!” the magistrate growls.

“And doing things like this makes you any better than them?”

“You will never understand—!”

“The Galra destroyed my PLANET! When they’ve reduced yours to rubble, then speak to me about how you believe you have the right to atrocities like this.”

Keith gingerly pulls one of Pidge’s arms around his shoulders and slips one around her still-covered lower back to help her up; it isn’t until then—until he helps her around the stump to join the rest of the group—that she can see what they’ve done to Lance. Really see. The blood-covered cobblestones around him and all.

Already dizzy and nauseous from pain, she gags, and Keith’s arms are the only things keeping her upright as she wretches onto the ground.

Allura and Krolia haul Lance up, carefully, and maybe he was somewhat awake again for a moment, but he passes out again when they move him. Hunk’s blaster, thankfully, is intimidating enough to keep the aliens at bay until they’ve all grabbed onto Keith's wolf.

A flash later, and the village square has been replaced by the interior of the black lion.

“I need to heal Lance, quickly,” Allura says immediately. Her voice shakes, though only slightly. “There is no way to know how much blood he has lost.”

His sides are just as torn and bloodied as his back, and just as Pidge feared, the damage even extends around to patches of his chest and stomach, out to his arms...in the few ticks since they teleported, blood has already dripped to the deck.

“Unless your abilities will compensate for particulates left inside of him, we should be sure nothing is embedded,” Krolia adds.

Coran, who only seems to have paused for a moment when they materialized, to take it the extent of what’s happened, is already all business. “The full body scanner in the stasis pod we have will help us find those more quickly.”

Allura swallows. “I...of course, and we...I should see to his chest first, I think. If his ribs or...or lungs, or any other internal organs are damaged that should be the priority…”

Keith helps Pidge find the edge of a crate to rest on, but he doesn’t seem to know what to say as he crouches beside her.

“Pidge…?”

She swallows, still trying to catch her breath. “I-I’ll be okay,” she gasps, swiping at her cheeks with shaking hands. “Lance is...Lance is worse. Just…”

“Keith!” Krolia calls. Lance may not be heavy, but the others need more help to get him up onto the stasis pod’s bed without hurting him too much. Coran has already covered it with a thick blanket.

A new hand rests on Pidge’s arm. “Romelle and I’ve got her,” a quiet voice says. Shiro. Keith exchanges a thankful glance with him before going to help the others with Lance.

“I’ll um...I’ll get rags. And some water,” Romelle says quickly. “We can do what we can until um...right.”

Then, for the moment, Pidge is left with only Shiro. But she doesn’t mind that so much. His arm moves around her shoulders, high and against her neck to avoid any of the stinging wounds and warm through what’s left of her shirt. Even sitting down, things are spinning.

“Easy...deep breaths...breathe, Katie...”

“I can’t...oh god...Shiro...they almost killed him…”

A wail cuts through the black lion’s cargo hold. Lance, awake again and panicking. They have him sitting on the bed of the stasis pod, Hunk and Keith holding his arms to support him in a sitting position so Allura can get to his chest.

Lance is in too much pain to know what’s happening. At least...that’s the way it looks to Pidge.

Her breath catches, and Shiro clings to her shoulders a little more tightly. “He’ll be all right,” he says. But even Pidge can hear the strain in his voice. When she glances up his gaze is caught across the room, eyes haunted like he’s really somewhere else.

Pidge doesn’t really want to know where else that might be. She wishes she could help, but she doesn’t know how.

“Lance, buddy, i-it’s okay, it’s just us,” Hunk is saying.

Allura has his face in her hands, trying to soothe him. “Lance, I know you are hurting...I know. You’re also having trouble breathing, and I need to see to that before anything else so it isn’t a danger to you. Please, calm down, please, it’s all right…”

Coran reaches in to press something to his neck—an injection. Pidge hopes it’s a painkiller.

Romelle returns with rags and basins of water for both the group huddled around Lance, and for her and Shiro. She settles on the crate behind Pidge and asks quietly if it’s all right to clean the wounds. Pidge nods absently, because what else is she supposed to say?

Across the cargo hold Allura and Hunk are finally succeeding in calming Lance enough for the princess to reach for his chest to begin healing it. He’s still crying, but at least the keen edge of distress has leached from the sound and his shallow breathing has slowed. Something in Pidge relaxes, too, even though she winces when Romelle presses one of the damp rags to her back.

The pain lessens when Coran breaks off from the others long enough to come give her an injection, too, and thank quiznak for Altean drugs.

At some point, it all still seems to become too much for Hunk. He gently hands off his side to Coran and comes to Pidge instead. Carefully hugging her from the front, just around her neck, he clings for a little while. She can’t blame him. She clings back, really, what’s left of the chains heavy around her wrists.

Hunk notices them when he pulls back, swiping at his eyes. “Oh, uh…” He catches one of her arms to study the manacle and its’ trailing, cut chain. “Right, I can...let me get something to get these off.”

Pidge only nods in answer; she doesn’t say anything to take away his excuse to leave the black lion for a while.

“Are we safe here?” Pidge asks, as she watches him go. “Where we landed...a-are we far enough away…?”

“We should be,” Shiro answers, quiet. “We’ll keep a watch through the night just in case.”

Hunk comes back with both a laser cutter and her bayard, holding up the laser cutter first. “I grabbed this, and then I realized you could probably just get them off yourself easier and then...yeah. I don’t know.”

“It’s okay,” she says. She holds out an arm to let him do it, only picking up her bayard when he’s gotten both of the metal bands off. “I can get Lance’s.”

“Uhm, yeah. Okay. I mean…”

“Are you sure you’re all right to get up?” Shiro asks.

Pidge pushes herself to her feet, five hands reaching out to steady her, but though she’s still a little dizzy it’s better than it was. More than wanting to stay still, she aches to get to Lance.

He’s calmer now, lying on his healed stomach as Allura alternately works at healing his back and sides, and uses the scanner to help her and Coran pinpoint any bits of rock and glass that need to be removed from his wounds. Still...she needs to get to him. She needs to know he’s really...still here. That he’ll really be all right.

It’s a relief to hear Lance breathing more deeply. The painkillers Coran gave them don’t seem to have done as much for him as they did for her—no surprise there, really, to see him still clearly in pain, even if it’s less—but he’s resting, only moving or wincing when Allura or Coran have to pick at the wounds that are left. He doesn’t open his eyes until Pidge has cut off both of his cuffs, but they’re clearer than they looked from across the room earlier.

He’s trying to smile at her. “Hey…”

“Hey…” Her stomach flips over and pressure builds in her throat all over again as she squeezes his hand, rubbing gently at the chafed skin around his wrist.

“You know I’d have killed you myself if you’d died, right?” she teases weakly.

Lance makes a face. “Yeah.”

Something nudges at the back of her legs, and Pidge finds Shiro and Romelle sliding a smaller crate up behind her for her to sit on. Glancing back to be sure she sits in the right place, she misses whatever makes Lance cry out but she feels him move.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Allura murmurs.

Pidge sits quickly, leaning closer and still clutching his hand as he tense and groans.

“I’m sorry, my boy,” Coran says. His hand rests for a moment at the back of Lance’s head. “Not too much longer now, I should think.”

Lance goes still again, panting quietly. Tears that seem borne of exhaustion more than anything else at this point are trailing silently down his cheeks. Pidge swallows and swipes gently at them, leaning closer to rest her forehead against his. She just needs to be close. And he doesn’t seem to mind.

“Are you okay?” he asks. “They...you…I’m so sorry, I—”

“I’ll be okay. It’s okay. Don’t worry about it…”

At least he seems too tired to contradict her.

***

Hours later, Pidge has been healed, too, and nearly everyone is in pajamas after bathing in the stream just outside their campsite. Their clothes and the blankets and rags hang drying from being washed, on makeshift stands around the fire.

But Lance is nowhere to be seen, and he hasn’t been since Pidge came back from the stream with Romelle.

“He’s...I guess he’s okay?” Hunk told her. “Ish. I mean...he said he was going to rest, but I think he just really wanted to be alone.”

“Did he at least eat something?”

“A little. I wasn’t really gonna push it right now…”

Pidge can’t make herself eat much, either, and after sitting quietly around the fire for a while, wedged comfortably between Hunk and Shiro, no one stops her when she retreats from the group to find Lance.

She hasn’t seen him since Allura finished healing him. He reached for her when they helped him sit up; he was still shaky, but he got an arm around her neck the way Hunk had and Pidge was content to let him hold onto her that way for as long as he wanted to. Even with the drying blood that hadn’t been washed away yet, she returned the embrace as tightly as she could.

When he released her Hunk helped him down from the stasis pod bed and out of the black lion, toward the stream to get cleaned off. After that he never joined the rest of them around the fire.

Not that she can blame him. Even sitting there, she didn’t feel much like talking.

“Lance?” She calls up Red’s ramp, but gets no answer. He may be sleeping, but she doesn’t think he’ll mind if she checks.

His back is to her when she tiptoes through the open door to the cargo hold. “Lance?”

He shifts, turning over in his bed to look at her in the dimness. “Pidge?”

Even in the low light, she can tell his face is red and irritated from crying, and her chest clenches.

“A-are you okay?” he asks. “Allura…?”

“Yeah. I’m fine…”

Lance is clean and in his pajamas too, now, and if it weren’t for the exhaustion written on his face under the redness she could almost pretend nothing happened.

But she can’t. She could never. Not after that. She doesn't know if she’ll ever be able to forget what he looked like, or forget how he screamed.

“Pidge…?” Lance is moving as if to get up, his eyebrows rising on his forehead. She doesn’t realize until then that her fists have clenches and her breaths have sped up.

She crosses the room because she can’t not, her bare feet picking up speed on the deck until she all but barrels into him. Lance catches her with an on ‘oof’ and falls back onto the edge of the bed.

“You’re an idiot!” she sobs.

With her face buried against his neck, she feels him swallow. “Come on, you don’t really think that…”

“Yes I do! I mean...no. Yes. You’re not STUPID, Lance, you’re just an IDIOT.” Her fist falls against his chest for emphasis.

“Thanks for the clarification…?”

Pidge huffs out a breath in frustration and pulls back to look him in the eyes, her knee braced on the bed against him. “I thought you were going to die like that! For me! Did you think I wanted to live with that?”

His mouth opens and closes once or twice before he can answer. “I...I just didn’t want them to hurt you because I couldn’t keep my quiznaking mouth shut, Pidge. I…”

“Come on, Lance; they probably would have figured out who we were anyway.”

“I’m sorry…” His head ducks against her as if in shame, and no, that’s not what she wanted.

“No, no, I didn’t mean…” Maybe she did want him to apologize. But why? Because she’s never been more terrified in her life? How is that his fault? She pulls him closer again. “Sorry, I was just...scared,” she whispers. “I’m sorry it...happened. At all. Quiznak—”

She cuts off to choke back a soft sob, and Lance squeezes back, tugging down a bit until she lets her knees fold up. She means to come down beside him on the edge of the bed, but he pulls her into his lap instead.

When Pidge pulls back to see his face again, his cheeks are red for an entirely different reason as she glances from his face, down to the fact that she’s now sitting on his legs, and up again with a raised eyebrow.

“S-sorry,” he stammers.

His arms twitch around her waist, pulling back to let go, but she catches one to keep them there. “It’s okay…”

Her thumb presses gently into his cheek, caressing the side of his face the whip had caught. The gash there is gone now, thank goodness, but she finds faint marks behind his ears and down the back of his neck that linger. Small dents in his flesh that she almost wouldn’t have noticed if she weren’t looking, most of them half hidden under his hairline.

“Allura said there were some places there was just...too much missing, or something,” Lance says quietly, while he lets her look. “She couldn’t smooth it over.”

She missed that. Before. She was there until Allura was done but the painkillers were wearing thin by then. She remembers Lance hugging her briefly, but not all of what happened is clear.

“Your back…?”

“Yeah...there’s some bigger ones there. Hunk uh...he said it’s not too bad, or anything…” He trails off tightly anyway. He looks away like he’s ashamed, and why should he be? No no no, he can’t—

Pidge pulls his chin back and presses her lips to his before she can think about what she’s really doing. What she’s giving away. Lance pulls in a breath through his nose and rocks back in surprise, but she follows him and he doesn't stop her. In a moment he’s responding to the kiss, and his arms tighten pleasantly around her waist again.

They nearly fall backward entirely by the time they stop, Lance shooting an arm back to steady himself as Pidge slides off his lap and onto the mattress. Pidge is laughing. She thinks Lance is until she sees the tears on his face.

“Lance…! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay!” he says quickly. It comes out frustrated, but not at her—the kind of tone that makes it clear he’s more frustrated with himself, and now he IS laughing. He’s also still crying. “I just...I’m sorry, I...a few hours ago I thought I’d never get the chance to do that.”

What?

Lance is trembling as he says it, and Pidge doesn’t have time to process that. She winces as she urges him back against the head of the bed and his pillows. She lays beside him and wraps herself around him, trailing fingers gently through his hairs until he calms. The faint tremors last longer, but after what happened to him she isn’t surprised.

“Will you stay?” he asks into the dimness. “Sorry I’m a mess…”

Pidge snorts quietly and presses a kiss into his hair. “And I’m not? Just in general?” Lance laughs at that, and her chest warms with the victory. “Anyway...I’ll stay.”

#plance #flirtyrobot #whump #angst #langst #hurt/comfort #vld pidge #vld lance #tw: blood #voltron #voltron whump #voltron legendary defender

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