#sobbing and crying on the floor in the lab

[fatuismooches]

Angst idea for fragile reader who is losing memory: they start recording with a Kamera to document their memories

A recording of reader giving a basic run-down of everything, their relationships, hobbies, past, etc. A summarisation of who they were for their future amnesiac self

Zandik finds the Kamera, and the first recording is reader bidding their future self to *please* not be scared of Dottore and his segments. They are trying their best, and showing fear to them will sadden them, especially tiny Zandy

(x, x, x) Despite your failing memory, you still remember the day Dottore introduced the Kamera to you. You were so fascinated by it, enthralled with the idea that memories could be recorded and eternally preserved. So you always made it a habit to take pictures of everything and anything. However, you could have never expected you to use the Kamera in such a way. A message to your future self, because you could only imagine how lost and confused you'd be, waking up in a place like this with people like Dottore. You speak about anything and everything, nothing is too small, not when you're going to forget about it. You recount exactly how you fell in love with him in the Akademiya, your relationship, the segments, dynamics, a bunch of info on each of them, yourself, what you like, how future you will probably be extremely distressed and confused about everything.

But all you say is that they truly do love you, they want to help you, and despite the kind of people they are and what they do, you love them too. They'll probably scare you sometimes, and freak you out, but they love you. And you hope that future you can see that.

You plead to your future self, at the very least, leave Zandy out of it. He is but a child, who has nothing but warmth and love for you. At least try to return the feeling to him, and don't shun him when he seeks you out...

[perilegs]

my sweet little baby man is no longer with us

[buckyalpine]

You know what I was thinking of all day? Comforting our sad baby Bucky who just wants a hug. He's tired from a bad mission. His body aches. He saw things he didn't want to. He could really just use something.

Even just a smile?

He doesn't have a lot of friends and most people around the compound outside of the team avoid him. Even those who'd worked with him for ages were still wary, scared he'd snap if they just asked how he's doing. He would have liked it, even just a hello in passing. When he walks by with a scowl on his face, no one meets his eye. If they did, they would have seen the storm that was brewing inside was not an angry one.

He just needed to be held.

When he continues to make his way towards his room, he's given a few nods from a couple of teammates but he knows they're doing it while holding their breath. He reaches his room and the damn is about to break, he hasn't been held in years, he feels so cold and empty, was he really so terrifying, no one would-

"Sergeant Barnes?"

A gentle voice calls for him, forcing him to swallow the lump in his throat. He knows that voice, mustering his best smile as he turns around to find Tony's lab assistant with a cup of chamomile tea in his mug and a file with the mission report he was supposed to fill out.

"Everyone's filling their reports in the conference room, I figured you'd rather have some privacy so I thought I'd bring it to you" You give him the same warm smile you grace everyone with, handing him the steaming cup, "and of course, your favourite"

It's too much. Normally it wouldn't be but he's never given such kindness but he always gets it from you. You're so unbelievably affectionate to everyone and he really doesn't feel worthy but today he needs it so he graciously accepts the tea and file with a soft thank you.

"and call me Bucky, doll"

You stiffen at the slight crack in his voice, frowning when he keeps his eyes trained to the floor. It wasn't unusual for Bucky to keep to himself but you catch his reddened nose and glassy baby blues and it breaks your heart.

He opens the door to enter his room ready to drown in a lonely storm when that voice calls again. Surely he was dreaming. He sets down his things, turning to find you still at his door.

"Bucky?" You enter his room, standing before him when he doesn't ask you to leave, "Are you okay?"

He doesn't trust himself, nodding and desperately blinking back tears. He wished you'd leave, he wished you'd stay, he wished he could just tell you what he needed, his hands fisted into balls by his side, he should just suck it up, what was he expecting-

"Come here" You whisper, your hand coming to cradle the back of his head, bringing it to rest into your neck where he can let go, your arms wrapping around his body.

Bucky doesn't get a chance to realize what's happening because as soon as he feels your touch the first sob escapes. He's hidden himself away in your hold, his tears wetting your skin with no remorse. He clings onto you like a lifeline while you coo and comfort him, playing with his hair and rubbing his back.

You don't let go, allowing him to cry for as long as he needs. Even after his cries turn into sniffles, you comfort him, pressing a kiss to his temple while he holds you extra tight.

When he's finally ready to let go, albeit reluctantly, he's instantly shused from trying to apologize. You don't ask questions asking what happened or why he was upset. It really didn't matter. You just knew. Bucky whispers a thank you, making a mental note to get you some flowers to properly showed you how much he appreciated it.

Of course you'd always just know when he needed it so he'd thank you again with coffee.

Dinner.

Dinner again.

Eventually, a ring.

You always knew what he needed.

A hug.

That was all.

[liketolaugh-writes]

Thinking about a full ghost Danny AU where he just straight-up dies in the portal. I think there should be more of those. <3

Character death, obviously.

------------

The drive back to Fentonworks was a blur in Maddie's memory, keeping Tucker on the line while he sobbed and stammered, trying and failing to keep himself together and explain what happened.

"-doesn't h-have a heartbeat and he's f-freaking out-"

"It just turned on, we don't know w-what happened, he, he said it didn't work-"

"-trying to keep Danny c-calm-"

"Please come home."

Jack's driving was even worse than usual, veering through the streets in an undisguised panic. Maddie hadn't been able to discern much from Tucker's ramble; the portal had finally turned on, but the kids had been messing around with it and Danny had gotten hurt. How hurt? Tucker didn't seem to be sure, but all three of them were in a state.

Jack pulled into their driveway and flung himself out, half the GAV still sprawled across the sidewalk. Maddie was right behind him, hanging up on Tucker with a quick assurance that they'd be right there.

"DANNY!" Jack yelled.

"In here!" Sam called back, from the open lab door. Of course.

Maddie slipped past Jack and got there first, almost falling down the stairs in her haste. What she saw there made her heart stop.

Danny wasn't there. There were three teens crumpled on the ground in front of the activated portal (a part of her sang, it worked, it worked) but Danny wasn't one of them. There was Tucker, staring blankly at the floor, and Sam, with her arm around a strange, glowing white-haired boy that was in tears - a ghost. A ghost? A ghost!

"GHOST!" Jack yelled in delight. The teen sobbed harder.

"Where's Danny?" Maddie demanded. Sam looked up sharply, her eyes wide like Maddie had never seen, her face dead pale under her makeup.

"I'm sorry!" Sam blurted out, looking nearly in tears herself. "I just, I, I thought it would be cool, it was just a picture, I, I didn't think-"

Maddie's heart skipped a beat. "Sam. Where is Danny?"

Sam looked at the crying boy next to her, huddled under her arm as if for comfort. The boy looked up, radioactive eyes swimming with tears and the water on his skin sparkling prismatically, and met Maddie's eyes.

"Mom," he croaked, his voice tripled and echoing with itself like a movie memory. "What happened to me?"

Maddie's knees gave out, and she crumpled to the floor, unable to take her eyes from the ghost in front of her. In a moment, she understood.

That was Danny. His colors had partially inverted, his hair turning white, the colors of his haz-mat suit - God, that was his haz-mat suit, the one they'd made for him and that he never used - reversing to white-on-black. He'd huddled into Sam, shaking and gasping, but now was pulling away, looking at Maddie like- like he thought she could fix this.

"I think something's wrong," Danny said, his voice trembling somewhere underneath all the alien reverberation. "Should we go to the hospital or, or something?"

"I don't think the hospital can fix this, man," Tucker said weakly, lifting his head just to stare at Danny.

The portal powered down with a whine. Maddie jerked her head up with a gasp, and found Jack at the control box, backing up silently. Jack stared into the portal. Maddie followed his gaze.

She couldn't stop the scream that tore itself from her throat. Jack yelled too, running inside, tripping over the bundled cables, and collapsing unceremoniously short of the body inside. Careless of that, Jack crawled forward the last few feet, scooped up the body, and then started to sob, cradling Danny's burnt and blistered corpse against him.

"...Do we call 911?" Danny asked, voice cracking. Maddie's head snapped back to him from the corpse, watching him stare in bleak, lost confusion at his father and the body he was hugging.

Danny didn't even believe in ghosts. Neither of their kids hid it, treating their profession with a lighthearted exasperation at home and plain embarrassment outside. Somehow, the fact made all of this worse.

"What's happening?" Danny asked helplessly. Shock, the stable part of Maddie's brain told her. He sees what's going on but his mind won't comprehend it. (He wasn't expecting to die today.)

"Y-yes," Maddie said at last, and then forced her voice to stabilize. "I'll... I'll call 911."

But first, she held out her arms, and Danny all but scrambled across the room to throw himself into her arms, still shaking. He was cold as ice, freezing through her haz-mat suit, and that was before he slipped forward with a yelp and tumbled through her. He scrambled back with a cry and tried again, and this time fell solidly against her, hiccupping. She wrapped an arm around him, shushing him softly, and groped for her phone with the other hand. She couldn't take her eyes off Jack, now carrying Danny out of the portal and staring from his corpse to his ghost, looking shattered.

"911, what is your emergency?"

"My son is dead," Maddie heard herself say. Danny hiccupped and clutched at her tighter. There was a brief pause.

"I'm very sorry, ma'am. Where are you? Have you checked his pulse?"

"We're at the Fentonworks building, 18701 northwest..." She rattled off the address mindlessly, and reached down to fumble for Danny's wrist. He let her have it without complaint, too terrified to put up any resistance. She shuddered as she felt nothing, not even the tendons or bone that should be there. Then she looked up at the corpse in Jack's arms and swallowed. "Jack, h-his... his pulse."

Jack nodded mutely and fumbled for Danny's wrist, gingerly running his fingers down the burnt skin until he found the right spot.

"What do you mean, his pulse, his ghost is literally in your lap!" Sam half-shrieked, her mascara running and her fists clenched against her cheeks, her breath coming in short gasps.

"No pulse," Jack croaked hollowly, staring at Danny's ghost.

"Maybe they could..." No, it was a foolish thought, and she wouldn't put false hopes into Danny's head just to put off her own grief. She cradled him closer again, feeling him shudder. She spoke to the operator. "N-no pulse, ma'am."

"Ambulance and police are on their way," the operator said, calm and reassuring. "Can you stay on the line with me?"

"Yes." Maddie felt numb, her own hands trembling as she held Danny close.

"Thank you. Can you tell me your name? Is there anyone else with you?"

"Maddie Fenton," she said. "My husband is with me, and my son's two friends, and... and my son's ghost."

There was another brief pause.

"Alright, Maddie." Maybe it was her imagination, but she thought the operator sounded gentler there. They thought she was crazy, of course. Maddie shut her eyes. "Can you tell me what happened?"

"I, I don't know. My son Danny was home with his friends, and they called and..." Deep breath. She started over. "There was an accident in our lab. Danny was electrocuted by one of our in-progress projects."

"Is the device still on?"

"No, ma'am. We had to turn it off to remove the, the body."

Maddie continued answering questions on autopilot, most of her attention on her son, her husband, and the body. Danny had stopped crying, but remained glued to her side, shivering and sniffling. Jack continued to cradle Danny's body, but his eyes were now fixed on Danny, grief spread across his face. Sam and Tucker had both quieted, watching them with fearful, guilt-stricken looks.

It seemed to take forever for the police and ambulance to arrive. Sam got up to show them inside without being asked, staggering up to steps on obviously shaky legs. Maddie was too grateful to insist on her or Jack doing it; with Danny's ghost cradled against her and his corpse in Jack's arms, well...

The paramedics arrived first, sharp-eyed and professional, but the first almost immediately faltered as he laid eyes on the scene. But Jack held up Danny's body beseechingly, his eyes wet and miserable, and they jolted into action.

"Thank you, ma'am," Maddie said to the woman on the line. "They're here now. May I hang up?"

"Yes. The paramedics will take it from here. Take care, Maddie."

Maddie hung up, and looked at the two paramedics as they filed down. They looked at each other, one inclined his head toward Danny, and they split up, one heading for Jack and the body, the other toward Maddie and the ghost. Both of them knelt beside their chosen patient, and Maddie fixed her attention on the one with her.

"Are you Danny?" the paramedic asked, unexpectedly gentle. Danny peeked up and nodded uncertainly, and the paramedic glanced at the body before seeming to make a decision. "Okay, Danny. My coworker June is going to check your body for signs of life to see if you can still be revived. Are you okay with that?" Danny hiccupped and nodded, though a new wave of tears welled up and trickled down his cheeks. "Can you tell me what happened?"

Danny hiccupped again, reaching up to wipe his eyes. "M-my friends wanted to see the p-portal," he managed, voice wavering. Maddie squeezed him, her own eyes welling up while the paramedic listened patiently. "A-and it didn't work so I t-thought it would be f-fine. I went inside a-and I d-didn't check if it was plugged in or anything, a-and then I tripped and fell and I think I hit a button and it turned on!" His voice rose until he was almost wailing. Maddie's throat tightened, and she hugged him closer. Her poor baby.

"You were electrocuted?" the paramedic checked softly.

"I guess," Danny sniffled. "I dunno. It just hurt. And then I felt really cold, and then I..." He looked down at himself and sniffled again, tears slipping nonstop down his cheeks. "Am I dead?"

The paramedic looked at his coworker, who met his eyes and shook her head. Maddie had to swallow a hiccup of her own, trying to be brave for her terrified son. The paramedic did a much better job at it, looking back at Danny and speaking gently.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "There's nothing we can do. June is going to call a coroner and explain the situation-" He caught the other paramedic's eye, and she gave him a nod. "-and we'll have your body taken somewhere it can be prepared for burial or cremation, whichever you prefer." Danny started crying again, and the paramedic exhaled and looked up to meet Maddie's eyes. "Obviously, there's no protocols for this situation. But, as his mother, I think it would still be appropriate for you to make a decision if he doesn't feel able to."

[yandere-daydreams]

tw - nsfw, physical/psychological abuse, wildly unhealthy relationship dynamics, and derogatory language.

Most days, Bailey struggles to decide whether you're an idiot or a masochist.

He’s leaning towards the former, but it wouldn’t take much to sway him towards the latter. That doesn’t make you special on its own, though – no, most of the stupid brats in his orphanage have shit for brains and the survival instincts of pre-splattered roadkill, but you manage to make your peers look like shining pillars of intelligence and caution and all the good, important, necessary traits that you were tragic enough to be born without. If he didn’t know better, he might think that you’re doing it on purpose, that your behavior is just the product of some misplaced cry for attention. You should count yourself lucky that he’s a hell of a lot smarter than you’ll ever be.

He should’ve gotten rid of you the first time you failed to pay your rent. He should’ve, and he tried to – selling you off to the highest bidder, leaving you blindfolded in alleyways and restrained on the edge of town, but like a beaten dog too stupid to acknowledge that its master left it for dead, you always seem to drag yourself back, always bruised, most often bloody, and occasionally soaking wet. More than once, you haven’t made it all the way back, and he’s had to go out of his way to pick up ‘his precious ward’ from the intensive care unit at Harper’s request. He would leave you there, if he thought his reputation would survive giving that freak of a doctor a free lab rat.

 You can’t hold down a job. That part, he can’t entirely blame on you. If going outside is risky, then trying to earn a living is all-but a death sentence in a town like this. He knows you have a few minor gigs, pick up odd jobs every now-and-then around the wealthier neighborhoods, but it’s never more than petty cash, and having to watch you drag yourself through the orphanage halls with torn clothes and that distant, glazed-over look in your eyes almost makes what little rent money you can scrap up not worth it. You’re wary enough to keep your head down in school, so you don’t have a lot of friends, either. Most of your time is spent at home; toiling in your weed-infested garden, trying to pretend you aren’t hiding in your room, and when he lets you, curling up in the smallest, darkest corner of his office – your legs pulled into your chair and your eyes fixed on the floor. He asked, once, why you thought you had to waste your time sulking in his peripheral like some poor, attention-starving kitten. Despite help from the better half of a bottle from his vintage stash, he can still remember your answer.

“I don’t know,” you mumbled, with a smile so delicate, he was almost tempted to see how easily it shattered. “I guess I just feel safe around you.”

He stopped asking for rent, after that.

He tries not to think about you. It’s a constant effort, but he tries the hardest when he’s standing in your doorway hours after midnight, fucking his fist as you pretend to sleep less than a full ten feet away. He still hasn’t made up his mind about the masochist part, but you have to be an idiot. A pretty, empty-headed idiot.

His pretty, empty-headed idiot.

He decides, as he finishes to the sound of your muffled sobbing, that he’ll soak it in while he can. Even if he does his best, even if he keeps his distance, even if you never come to your senses and run far, faraway, he knows he won’t have long left to enjoy this.

He knows that, no matter how hard he tries to hold himself back, you’re not going to feel very safe around him for much longer.

[accioscarheadthings]

ULTRAMINE ~ CHAPTER 5

kenji sato x reader

summary: kenji finds a secret that you have been keeping from him and it's making him doubt everything about you

pairings: kenji sato x fem!student!reader

warning: angst, arguments, emi defending you, mention of violence, gore, blood, and death, onset of a panic attack

masterlist !

an undercover agent.

working for the kdf

kenji's mind was whirling as he glared at your watch with utmost loathing. he was up early that morning, not being able to sleep much with the information he had discovered.

"good morning," you walked into his lab in the basement.

the watch slipped his grasp and he accidently kicked it your way.

you turned towards it and your expression turned alarmed at once, "kenji... where did you find that?" you had an idea of what he might of seen if he had your watch.

kenji turned around to face you, his eyes blazing with anger as he strode towards you, "the kdf? seriously?"

"oh god, ken," you covered your face with your hands, "it's not what it looks like-"

"i can't believe I trusted you. all along, you were working against us. you're nothing but a traitor!"

you flinched at his words, hurt by the disappointment and betrayal in his voice. but despite the pain, you didn't know how to tell him the truth. so you steeled yourself for his barrage of accusations.

"you had me fooled all this time. it was all just a facade, wasn't it? you were leading me on, using me to get what you wanted,"

"please, let me explain," you tried to speak, your frustration rising, "allow me to explain. i need you to trust me, kenji," you picked up the watch and strapped it around your wrist.

"i can't. not anymore," he snapped in disdain, "I thought I wasn't good enough for you, when it was you who was wrong all along, "you know deep down that you're not good enough, don't you? that's why you're always trying so hard to prove yourself. you're just a poser, pretending to be something you're not,"

your shoulders sagged at his words and your expression cleared. you swore you heart your heart crack.

ah, he hit the home run.

emi stepped between you and kenji, crying out in perplexity. she had never seen you argue with each other, but now, she didn't like it one bit.

kenji stared up at her, "step aside, young lady! you're gonna be in big trouble!"

emi trilled in retaliation, glancing at you in confusion.

you wanted to defend yourself, to prove that he was wrong, but something didn't feel right.

you couldn't breathe.

a chill slithered down your sweaty back, bursting into a shiver throughout your body.

kenji yelled, losing all sense, "emi! you're taking her side but she's the bad guy! she will kill you!"

"that's enough, kenji!" professor sato thundered, having just entered the lab, and having heard enough.

you froze, all of it sinking it. the words ascended your throat to defend yourself, and when you opened your mouth, you could hardly breathe.

you clutched your chest, scurrying out of the lab, ignoring professor sato's calls.

emi hurried after you, sobbing, but the tube elevator had disappeared out of view. she slumped down in her place with a pout, ears drooping down.

you barged into your room, leaning on the edge of your bed, and slid down the floor.

the memories of your past come rushing back to you like a tidal wave.

flashes of your parents’ faces, their voices, and the sound of the door being broken down by armed guards fill your mind.

you were transported back to that terrifying day when your parents were arrested, your body trembling with fear and anger. You watched as the guards roughed up your parents, grabbing them without any consideration.

you feel the familiar pang of betrayal as you watch your parents being dragged into the van, their shouts of protest silenced by the KDF officers.

"no," you hit the side of your head repeatedly to knock off the images, "stop it!"

the scene changed, and you saw your parents being taken to a high-security facility. you watched as they were separated and taken to different rooms, their faces etched with worry and pain.

as you follow your parents, the memory begins to blur and shift. you can see your parents being subjected to intense questioning, their bodies bound to chairs as their minds are probed and invaded.

screams of pain echoed throughout the facility they tortured your parents to no end. blood oozing out of their skin where they had been beaten and battered up for information.

as you came out of the flashback, you were brought back to the present moment. the memories of your parents' arrest and torture came flooding back, and you felt yourself starting to spiral into yourself.

your breathing became shallow, your hands shaking, your mind racing with images of your parents in agony and drenched in blood.

your knees buckled, and you found yourself sinking to the ground. you could feel the onset of a panic attack, your body beginning to shake, chest tightening.

your watch beeped and your warbird suit encapsulated you, covering you from head to toe, metal plates shifting upwards over your body.

"no, not now," you screwed your eyes shut, reaching out to reality and attempting to steady your breathing.

snapping them open, your suit lit up and you began to gather yourself.

"her parents died that day," professor sato explained to kenji over the cries of emi, "they didn't make it through the interrogation. at first, y/n's father thought they were getting arrested for the identity of warbird, partner in crime of ultraman," he scoffed, "but they were wrong. it was for their involvement in kaiju studies. y/n's father knew where kaij island was. so they thought they could torture it out of him. it got so severe that they-" he paused, screwing his eyes shut in agony, "they tortured them to death," his voice shook.

kenji shut his eyes, his heart heavy with sorrow, regret, and guilt. The weight of his actions and the full extent of his guilt started to sink in, and he began to understand the gravity of his words.

"the kdf disposed of their bodies by faking a car accident. inconsiderate of the little girl that was orphaned," professor sato's heart ached at the memory, his eyes getting glassy.

"y/n got into the kdf under a fake name by using her skill and expertise to know why they were specifically after emi. and also to know if her parents were, by some miracle, still alive,"

"kenji, professor sato," mina interrupted, "dr. y/n is experiencing a panic attack. i suggest immediate assistance before her condition gets worse,"

kenji felt his heart drop, "where is she?" he spun around to face the ai, who was also worried for you.

"in the guest room, but kenji-"

he didn't let her finish. he rushed to the elevator, his brain screaming at him to get to you at once, "dad, watch emi, i'll go check in on y/n,"

once kenji skidded to a stop in front of your room, he found the door ajar. stepping in, he took in the bedroom's state of disarray.

several items were strewn across the room as though you had stumbled over them. the sheets on the bed were yanked off, leaving the mattress exposed.

but most of your things were gone, and so were you, leaving the balcony door open.

he sat alone in the empty room, consumed by a wave of guilt that seemed to crush him. he replayed the argument over and over in his mind, your broken expression, berating himself for the heated words he had spoken and the hurtful tone he had used.

he regretted allowing his emotions to boil over and push you away. the silence of the room was almost deafening, intensifying his sense of remorse and longing for your presence.

TAGLIST !

@earth-to-mee @sassy-cat-in-town @breaddippedinorangejuice @nuhteyam @gameboigyu @byunpum @jennypenny-19 @doublebunv @moonjellyfishie @m00nd0v3 @despacito-uwu16 @reivelmin @seyoran @warlike-morning @crimson-mage-02 @b3e-sat0 @miffysoo @t4naiis @lovingyeet  @imsimping4life @mmeerraa @btszn @jusmango-shak @yobriisstuff @goldenpoison @fruchtgeschmack @iateurdad16 @bandolls @lovingyee @reivelmin @f-ergj @arrozyfrijoles23 @aise-30 @simp-hub @armycaratlover

AUTHOR'S NOTE !

ahhh!! i'm sorry for the angst, my loves!

they will make it up to each other so, don't worry about it. even after i finish the series, i'll be writing drabbles because i can't get enough of kenji sato. if you guys have any requests, don't hesitate to send them.

also, do you guys want another smut chapter? i think it'll be an overkill. but if you guys want it, i'll make it work somehow;)

let me know below <33

[wyvernest]

requested by @littlelilbun <3

cocoon cuddles

pairing: miguel o'hara x f!reader

warnings: a little hurt! & comfort, a lot of fluff, miguel being extremely soft and affectionate, miguel speaking Spanish? the usual

summary: miguel comforts you after a very rough day

Truth be told, today was awful. The kind of day that makes your head swim in all the worst kinds of thoughts.

As you enter Miguel's mansion, you're quick to frown following the realisation of his absence. Another rough anomaly, you think. Just great.

You feel like a toddler that's been promised the most beautiful cake at the end of a tiring, horrible day only for the time to come with no cake. 

You've been looking forward to the comfort of his embrace all day long. Ever since you've received that terrible news, wasting all your mental energy simply by thinking about it and all the ways you could or could not fix your problems.

Entering the bedroom after an undeserved shower, you let yourself fall face first into the mattress, succumbing to your worries and seemingly irreparable issues. Frustration and dismay boiled in your chest, almost suffocating.

You don't know how long it's been until you hear the familiar loud thump on the tall windows of the first floor, no doubt another careful landing of Miguel's on the thick glass, followed by the ever so funny sound of his talons scratching into the rough outer walls of the house before pushing the translucent door open.

You gather all that's left of your power to jolt out of bed welcoming him with an aching yet open heart.

His firm footsteps climbing up the stairs quicken at the sound of your own, and before you know it, you are reunited.

"Siento llegar tarde. Te extrañé, mi vida." (I'm sorry I'm late, I missed you)

He extends his arms for you to jump into his embrace, but you're stunned. Your love for him suddenly explodes along with all the sadness that's filled your being all this time, and you break down. 

He's so sweet. Even when you're upset, he manages to cheer you up and take your mind off everything else with just a look and barely a few words.

Tears stain your cheeks as you approach him slowly with watery eyes, bumping your head face forward into his chest, arms cuddled tightly against him. Your gentle sobs are muffled into his suit, occasionally interrupted by sharp, quiet inhales.

"Bebita", He coos, affectionately and full of sweetened pity, disappointed and heartbroken with your evident sorrow. He wraps his arms around you and lets you cry into his chest, knowing that words aren't necessary anymore. 

You can talk later, tell him about it all. Now he needs to get you out of the pit you've sunken into, full of confusion and misery.

Walking you back to the bedroom, he places you softly on the bed, and before you can figure out what he's planning, he wraps the white blankets around you, efficiently rendering you unable to move. 

You don't fight against it, the soft sobs fading into a slight amused smile.

"What are you doing?" You speak impossibly quiet and gentle, watching him gather the materials together with unnecessary focus, as if he was working in the lab with millimetric utensils. You giggle at the sight, and his heart grows warm at the sound.

He looks at you, smirking without answering. You shuffle in the thin cocoon, finding a comfortable position for your wrists. Finally, he ties a knot with two joined corners and moves to hover above you. 

He scans all the features of your face, the glistening skin of your flushed cheeks, your softened eyes and agape mouth, ready to protest.

"Now wha-!" you attempt to speak, interrupted by his mouth on yours. He places an infinitely loving smooch to your pout, all anxiety clearing like clouds swept away by cool winds on a summer morning after a midnight thunderstorm.

When he moves away, all warmth and breath is stolen from you. Before you can clumsily chase after his kisses in your confinement, he picks you up and shuffles over to the headboard, placing you on his lap.

He holds you with a hand wide spread on your upper arm, your head comfortably nestled in his elbow pit. His other arm is draped across your waist, affectionate and protective.

"Mira lo guapa que eres." (Look how beautiful you are)

He kisses your forehead, another unhurried, lingering smooch. "I can't bear to see you like this, bebita." He kisses both your cheeks, his warm breath fanning over your face making your eyelids grow heavy with cosiness and adoration. You feel at home, safe, in his strong arms and under his ever loving touch.

"I'll take care of you." A kiss to your temple. Another on your cheekbone. "I'll take care of everything." More kisses around your mouth, and one to your right eye that finally lets a giggle erupt out of you.

You struggle against the cotton cocoon, wanting to free your arms and grab his handsome face in return. His hold tightens around you.

"Tranquila." (Relax.) He moves his head to the crook of your neck, placing a wet kiss below your jaw, making you instantly melt into his heated embrace, almost instinctively. He inhales deeply, leaning his temple against yours. 

You close your eyes, content and finally serene.

He nuzzles his nose in your pinky cheek, resuming the pecks. "Nothing is worth your smile. I'll travel through any universe, however far, to destroy anything that's troubling you, mi reina." 

He finally gives in and kisses your soft lips, making you sigh gently into his mouth. 

You feel your entire soul pour into his, a fresh mountain stream slowly flowing into a fresh, sun enlightened pond. Almost chest to chest, you feel his heart speed up, in sync with yours.

You wouldn't ever want to have it any other way.

divider by @cafekitsune

a/n: HOPE IT WAS WORTH THE WAIT!!! i still cant believe i couldn't find a pic for the cuddling position i was describing but anyways i hope it's clear enough 🫠🫠🫠

[mistywaves98]

how would yandere! albedo non-con us?? just a thought

✧･ﾟ:* ->How would yandere! Albedo non con you?

✧･ﾟ:* ->¡Warnings!: Dark content, NSFW, Non con (duh), same old aphrodisiac usage scenario, slight sadist! albedo, ending was kinda rushed, a sprinkle of degradation!

✧･ﾟ:* ->Minor writing smut! DNI interact if uncomfy!

You never expected that your superior would do something like this to you, making you consume this strange concoction that made your knees feel weak and a strange heat build up between your legs.

Your sobs meant nothing to Albedo as he forced you onto one of the lab tables. His gloved hand held the back of your neck down, smushing your cheek against the cold marble as the other snaked its way into the front of your pants.

No matter how many times you tried to tell him to stop and that you didn't want this, he'd just keep going further and further, pushing way past your boundaries. He merely shut your pleas down with a simple 'if you didn't want this, then you wouldn't be dripping all over the floor right now'.

He knows it's all his fault that you're in such a state and your body is merely reacting to the strong aphrodisiac he made you drink, but it doesn't deter him from gaslighting you into thinking that he's not actually doing anything wrong and that it's your own fault.

In the end, you can only babble out useless protests as his fingers hook around the waistband of your pants, pulling it down along with your panties to reveal your soaked pussy. The sight makes him smirk as dark lust fills his eyes. He trails a hand up and down your slit, collecting your essence before holding it up to your face for you to see. He leans in, hot breath brushing your ear as he speaks,"Look at how wet you are, so desperate for your pussy to be filled, aren't you?"

You don't even get a choice in your answer as his hand that was on the nape of your neck moves up to cup your cheeks, squeezing them tightly as he moves your head back and forth in the mocking gesture of a nod. Albedo laughs at the pitiful sight that is you before moving his coated digits back down to your neglected pussy that seems even more wet than before. Without warning, he plunges his middle and ring finger inside your tight hole, making you gasp sharply as your walls contract around his digits.

Tears fall down your face as he mercilessly fingers you, making scissors motions to stretch you out even more. The pain is like a searing hot sensation that only adds to the heat provided by the aphrodisiac and you find that beads of sweat have formed on your forehead and are dripping down your face. Your body involuntarily tenses as your orgasm approaches and Albedo can feel it, his smirk widening as he increases his pace, chuckling as your pussy flutters around him I'm return.

"Gonna cum? Go on then, you pathetic slut. Claiming that you don't want this all while squeezing my fingers like a cheap whore." You try to retort, but Albedo his quick to cover your mouth with his other hand, shoving three fingers knuckle deep into your cavern, making you choke as you gag and cough, effectively cutting off your protests. It isn't long before your climax crashes down on you like a huge wave, your body convulsing as you cry out. Your vision goes white for a second as you orgasm hard around his digits. The aphrodisiac enhances these sensations even more, making the entire experience even more intense.

Albedo watches with satisfaction as your hot cum coats his fingers and drips onto the clean floor below. "There we go... What a disgusting yet beautiful sight. I'll be sure to document this down to the last detail. Are you ready for the next part of the experiment?" Even though you're too fucked out to respond, you wouldn't have been able to in the first place as Albedo's fingers remain stuffed in your mouth.

The sound a belt being unbuckled can be heard as he pulls down his pants and boxers, freeing his hard cock from its confines. He positions himself at your entrance before suddenly thrusting into you, bottoming out immediately as he groans at the feeling of your cunt sucking him in. A muffled moan of pain leaves your puffy lips, fresh tears forming in your eyes as he wastes no time in pulling back out, only to impale you once again. He fucks you with an even rhythm, making sure to drive the head of his cock to the deepest parts of your pussy.

Your nails scrape against the smooth surface of the table as your body rocks back and forth from the force of his thrusts. The atmosphere is warm, with the sounds of your broken cries and his pleasured moans mixing together as he uses your body for his pleasure. One hand presses between your shoulder blades while the other grasps your hip with a bruising grip.

Your body continues to be abused for what feels like hours, soon you don't even have the voice to cry out and can only let out choked whimpers whenever he rips another orgasm from your tired pussy. By the time he's finished, your cunt is overflowing with his hot cum as it flows onto the floor below. Your body is covered in sweat and uncontrollably twitches from time to time. Albedo thinks that you look like a piece of art as he runs a hand through your disheveled locks, tugging slightly just to hear your sweet little sounds.

"I'd say the experiment was a success. Now if you don't mind, I'm going to write this down as it's fresh in my mind. But don't fret, I'll be back soon enough" He says as he moves away from you and pulls up his pants. He turns around and exits the room, the sound of his boots clacking against the floor as he leaves you there, broken and used like a worthless toy.

[mandowifey]

Deprication

Miguel O'hara x Reader

Miguel Masterlist

Drabble

Warnings: NSFW (reader is female and 18+), dub con/non con, captive reader, My miguel is a bad boy, not a good boy, aggressive miguel, he's a nasty lil mans, biting, blood, mentions of force, implications of ownership.

Had to get this out of my system. I did not proof read this!

× × ×

"When has running ever worked for you?"

The lab floor felt cold against your skin but compared nothing to the ice in Miguel's eyes. He stood over you, claws curled and red eyes searching. You hardly recognized him like this, feral and borderline beastial. With a groan, you shift in your position and attempt to sit up, ready to begin your apology when something sticky locked your wrist to the ground.

"Answer me."

You were trapped now. Even with one hand free, you'd never be able to claw the webbing off your skin without his help. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you force a timid smile and look up towards O'hara's brooding form. "I-im sorry, I'm not sure what came over me. Just was being a little spontaneous." You laugh, but your nerves are shot and the unease is clear as day in your expression.

Miguel wasn't buying it, but he never did.

He dropped effortlessly into a crouch before you and shook his head. "We talked about this, kiddo. You don't try to run, and you don't get punished." Your breath draws in your throat as his large hands push your legs apart while he crawls between them. Miguel nudges your dress up your hips as his suit retracts over his pelvis.

"Im sorry," you whisper, tugging at your arm and watching him carefully.

"No, you aren't." The red dims from his eyes, but the callous expression remained. "Not yet."

Swiftly cutting your panties open with his claws, Miguel shifts himself into position against you. While you cannot see his cock, you knew how big he was from memory. The man drops his head to your neck and breathes in your scent, listening to you whine as he nudges your entrance. "Better relax." He licks your throat and nips. "Or don't. Doesn't matter to me."

The pain is searing. He bottoms out on the first thrust, filling your cunt excruciatingly full. Your head tilts as you scream, heat blossoming across your cheeks as he forces you to stretch around him. Your cry is cut short as his palm covers your mouth, muffling you as he sets a brutal and focused pace. Each thrust causing your smaller frame to bounce under him.

"There you go, just like that. Knew you'd come around." His voice grunts in your ear, his hips impacting yours bruisingly hard. Your free hand flails, grasping at him where it can and sinking your nails into the meat of his bicep. All you can do is take his cock while he used you like he owned you. Miguel gives a groan, smitten by how tightly you squeeze around him and how warm you are. He fucks with purpose, driving his cock with precision and knocking your cervix.

You can only scream against his hand, your pelvis taking the brunt of his assault. Stars pop behind your eyes, and in your dismay, you feel yourself rapidly rising. Miguel could smell it and shifted to sink his claws into the floor and begin rutting into you harder. "Yeah? Gonna cum for me?" He snaps his hips to yours, plowing your cunt relentlessly hard. As Spiderman, he had endless stamina and strength to use against you.

As your orgasm rose, you hit and pushed at his arm, trying to fight it. Even while he bullied your cervix, your eyes rolled back, and your body arched. You were chasing it now, your legs opening wide and hips angling to help him glide unhindered inside of you. It only took two more thrusts before you came crashing down. Clenching around him, you shudder as you burst, sobbing against his hand while you cum.

Miguel rocks harder, fucking you through it before he hunkered down and shoved as far as he could go. Snarling like an animal, his eyes close, and his mouth latches to your shoulder. Pain blooms as he breaks your skin with his fangs. He ruts twice more before stilling and shuddering. You can feel his massive cock throb within you, followed by the heavy, hot spurts of his cum drenching your innards.

Removing his hand from your mouth, he moves and kisses you hard. Blood smears between your lips, and he dips his tongue between your teeth, groaning as he keeps you two connected. He remains on you like that for a few moments before finally lifting his head and sitting up. Relaxed back on his knees, Miguel watches as he slowly slides out of you, smirking when you twitch and whine.

"Next time you run, I won't be so gentle."

[thatoneerin]

skyvik au thoughts because I was listening to papa roach and got ideas

okay so, this au, Sky notices Viktor's health is getting worse and worse, and that he's getting more and more obsessive over the hexcore. now, it doesn't exactly take a genius to tell that, while whatever Viktor's doing with the hexcore helps in the moment, it's just rushing him to an even earlier grave.

so, Sky starts leaving small notes around for Viktor, because to be entirely honest, he's almost always irritated and doesn't ever seem to be in the mood to talk, so this is the best she can come up with.

the notes are mostly the same, encouraging Viktor that if he ever needs someone to talk to or somewhere to stay, that she and her home are open. some are encouragements that she knows he's doing his best, and that she believes in him, even leaving little doodles on most of her notes related to what they say.

Viktor sees most of them. he acts like he doesn't, because stubborn habits die hard and dammit, he's doesn't need anything distracting him. but they always give him a moment of pause. he reads all of them, and even keeps some. He does still care for Sky and appreciates seeing her concern, but they don't do much to deter him. he has to figure out this magic, to be able to live longer and do more good for Piltover and Zaun, Sky of all people should be able to understand that.

and so, when Sky finds Viktor trying to gain the hexcore's power, she ends up being able to tear Viktor away from the hexcore before it consumes either of them. because, the power of love and friendship I guess? idk, it doesn't really matter.

after everything calms down, they're on the floor from the sudden blast of magic from the core after Viktor took his hand off of it. Viktor is, of course, pissed the hell off. why did she stop him?? he was so close!

but before he's able to say anything, Sky sees him and immediately wraps her arms around his waist. she starts to cry, saying how she was so scared, how she's been so scared for him, and what the hell was he thinking??? she's practically got her head in his lap at this point, gripping him tightly and latching her nails into his skin like she's scared someone's going to come and take him from her.

Viktor's inner turmoil is crazy. He hasn't had a genuine hug in years, and the last time Sky hugged him was when they were back in the academy together.

he's then suddenly pulled back to that memory.

it was their graduation day. the second Professor Heimerdinger congratulated the students for their hard work and declared them the newest graduating class, applause and cheering erupted, and Sky practically jumped on Viktor wrapping her arms around his neck. Viktor wrapped his arms around her, just being happy that he had someone to celebrate this with, especially a close friend like her.

Viktor is quiet for a long time as Sky cries into his lap. he then, finally, lightly touches her shoulder. she lifts her head up to him and...

oh god.

Sky has a large purple, almost birth mark looking skin tissue covering half of her face. it wraps around her left eye, which he now also notices it's iris and pupil are stark white.

oh god.

he did that.

he shakily reaches a hand to her face, which is also now covered in the same purple scar like tissue that's on Sky's face. Sky's eye goes to his hand momentarily, wide in shock at it's apperance, before he lightly grazes the scar on her face. they lock eyes, one golden pool spilling into the other two. Viktor finally breaks, tearing up and starting to apologize to Sky profusely.

Sky quickly wraps her arms around his neck, cradling the back of his head in one of her hands. he wraps his arms around her back, burying his head in the crook of her shoulder as his quiet sobs rattle through him.

they stay like that on the cold floor of the lab for a long, long time.

[anonymousangstmonster]

Prompt #88 “Free”

The Fentons have finally managed to catch Phantom.

Danny has now survived weeks of horrible experiments and torture at the hands of his own parents.

One night after Jack went to bed and Maddie was still down in the lab running tests on samples, she hears sobbing coming from Phantom’s cell and walks over to investigate. She finds the ghost crying about how it just wants to go home, how it’s scared, how it just wants to see it’s mom and dad again.

Maddie can’t help but imagine her son in place of this specter in a cage: Danny kidnapped by some unknown people, alone and scared and hurt, pleading to go home. Out of guilt she lets Phantom free and it almost immediately zooms into the portal, free once again.

Upon entering the Ghost Zone, Danny decides to, instead of taking refuge somewhere to recover, go back through the portal, change back to human, and hug his mom.

Maddie realizes the mistakes she made and hugs him back.

Danny tells her he feels cold, and that it hurts. The next second he collapses to the floor and there is a growing red spot on his white shirt where is stomach is.

Daniel Fenton dies due to his internal injuries moments later.

[pupyuj]

Ena you have to think bigger! You should be the one killing people instead of dying then detective an will look for you and arrest you my friend 😋

anon you have awakened something in me with this ask 😧😧 as fun(?) as doing this ask was, this is important: please look carefully through the warnings bcs this type of content might be too dark and disturbing for some! don’t engage if it’s not your cup of tea and especially if it could potentially trigger you.

[cw: murder!, blood, knife play, fear play, blood play]

OKAY SO you being this clumsy amateur serial killer that leaves evidence all over the place but somehow being clever enough to always escape arrest and stay hidden… you’re a bit famous in the precinct and detective ahn is very intrigued by you!! 🥰 so much so that she makes it her goal to find out even one thing about the person that’s been making a mess of her city 🤭 so imagine her surprise when it’s the timid, quiet girl that’s always waiting at the bus stop in front of the police station that yujin herself works in?? it was unexpected, as yujin always thought you were the type of person to not even be able to look at a drop of blood without throwing up, let alone be the very culprit of the kind of gruesome scene you leave for the police to witness after your kills… but then again, it’s always the innocent-looking ones 😰

it takes a while but yujin will definitely be able to track you down… especially since you’ve captured her heart and she became your little stalker! maybe even fan… 🤭🤭 one moment you’re driving your knife down a pervert’s chest in an alleyway and the next, yujin (who just so happened to witness the murder) has successfully lured you into her house where she has you on your knees, begging for her not to turn you in 😣 ofc yujinnie wouldn't do that though! the moment you dropped on your knees in front of her, you became her little toy!

faking sympathy and pouting at you with the fakest sorry eyes ever as you begged and begged for her not to throw you in jail… saying that every time you killed it was with valid reason.. and you know what? yujin believes you!! her judgment is not at all clouded by her strong desire to study your sick brain like a lab rat and have you all to herself… and she definitely doesn’t just let you off with a warning.. in fact she keeps you there on the floor, your face buried in between her thighs with your mouth on her pussy, eating her out like it’s your last meal bcs your life quite literally depended on it 🙁🙁 aww you’d be crying while doing it too.. so confused as to why you were so willing to do such a thing for yujin when you could just.. kill her. 🙂

and that’s what you attempt to do! pulling out a pocket knife hidden underneath your clothes and swinging it at the detective, only to have your wrist locked in a tight grip before you were pushed down on the floor, hitting your head on the cold ground and nearly blacking out.. it was the perfect opportunity for yujin to steal that knife and play with it… “you’re brave. but you’re stupid.” her running the tip of the blade across your jawline.. down to your neck, lightly pressing the steel where your pulse throbbed… yujinnie finds pleasure in the fear in your eyes, how your chest heaved while you sobbed pathetically bcs you were so scared she was just going to slit your throat and leave you to choke on your own blood ☹️

but yujin was too nice (?) for that!! you were too pretty to be left dead.. and she has to hear that voice of yours more!! mmdjdhdbfh yujinnie taking off your pants and inserting her fingers inside you so suddenly :(( but she immediately pulls out and licks your slick off her fingers, convinced that all she needed was a little taste test and she was right when she thought that you’d be sweet 🥺 but then she’d have that knife pointed at your neck while she rubbed her cunt against yours! you letting out a mix of a sob and a moan bcs the feeling was so good but fuck,, yujin’s hand could slip and she could easily kill you!! yujinnie ending up pressing the knife a bit deeper than intended when your clits brushed way too good and slicing your neck a little.. god, you looked even prettier with blood tainting your soft skin…

the pleasure blocking out the sting that came from the small wound on your neck… having to grip yujin’s free arm and grinding back up against her just to feel more… and that was when she finally chucks the knife elsewhere and focuses on pleasuring the two of you! basically pouncing her cunt against yours while she kissed all over your chest and neck.. making sure to lick and kiss your wound before grabbing your face and finally kissing your lips… tasting your own blood on her tongue 😵‍💫😵‍💫 shdhsijcdj also makes sure to coat her lips with your blood and leave BLOODY kiss marks on all over your chest… the sight gives her a new kind of rush that only feeds her brain with more sickness.. ugh 🤤

fuckfudjcjd she’d make sure the two of you came tgoether 🫣🫣 continuing on grinding while you’re cumming bcs yujinnie couldn’t help it 😵‍💫 her collapsing on your chest, the two of you breathing heavily in sync.. until yujin remembers that you’re injured… in which she’ll make sure to treat that goddamn injury carefully! her suddenly being so gentle and critical of herself as she’s bandaging your neck up,, annoyed at how she messed up such a pretty doll but still can’t help but find that wound on your neck so fucking perfect… whatever that means 🫢 she’ll send you home, telling you to be careful not to get caught bcs she’ll miss you if you get jailed 😐

and you know what happens after you’re out of her house?? she picks up that knife and runs her tongue across the steel, licking up your blood with a smile on her face… she’s already looking forward to the next time she catches you red-handed 😵‍💫

[whumpy-wyrms]

The Last Lab Rat #20: Max

previous > masterlist > next

content: lab whump, captivity, lots of talk about death, ghosts and Max’s afterlife, begging, suicide mention, ghost whumpee, winged test subject whumpee, scientist carewhumper

WE’RE BACK!!! YAAYYY

— 

Death wasn’t peaceful. Death gnawed at one’s soul, pulled at one’s ankles. Death was an eternal limbo of nothingness and melancholy, of floating alone in a deep dark abyss with nowhere to go and no destination, of writhing against the restraints keeping one from interacting with the mortal coil.

At least, it was for Max.

Max, of course, didn’t know what waking up as a spectral of floating light next to their bloody, lifeless and broken body had meant at first. Because of their jumbled mess of their mind and memories, they didn’t even remember they had died, or the events leading up to their untimely demise.

It felt like an eternity of being trapped deep underground in that lab, their tomb. An eternity of floating, sinking, crying out, screaming, being unheard, being unseen. An eternity of waiting, of watching, of observing, of relentless, gnawing boredom. An eternity of death. An eternity of their endless pain.

Because even in death, Max’s agony never subsided. Every moment they felt a dull, faded pain everywhere at once that they couldn’t quite place. It was as if they felt the ghost of their old pain coming back to haunt them, a phantom of what once was. It consumed their entire being, their entire body, and yet nothing at all. They still felt the lingering touch of metal to their skin, their bones breaking and blood pooling, the pull of their flesh and the cuts of the knife, the ache in their head and the stinging at their throat.

And yet, they felt nothing at all. They were nothing. Their body wasn’t real— they didn’t exist. They reached their hand out in front of them and it phased through the bars of their cage. They were floating in the air that they were one with, now. They weren’t hungry. They weren’t thirsty. They weren’t anything. They cried from the pain, but only because that was all they knew.

Nothing but a phantom in the desolate lab. The scientist was gone, now, and the younger one was left to pick up the pieces. Their real body was gone. Dissolved. Discarded. Tossed away as if they were and had always been nothing.

The scientist— the assistant— the only person that had ever taken care of them— their… friend— he cried. They cried with him. They laid on the floor of the lab with him and his mouse, curled up, shaking, sobbing, crying out, screaming out their anguish until their throats went dry to nobody that could hear them. But nothing they did could ease the pain. Nothing any of them did could ease the ache in their hearts.

Despite their raspy sobs and wails that left their scarred throat, and the tears that spilled from their eye, and their desperate attempts to reach out into the living realm to get him to hear them and to see them, they were still nothing but a cool draft in the air. They were still nothing.

Their eye drifted to the exit. The exit they had spent so long staring longingly at, so long planning to escape from, so long fantasizing of what it would feel like to finally be free from these clutches and see the outside world that they’d only heard rumors of existing. Their body moved, oh so slowly, through the bars that had kept them in place for so long, through the air that encompassed their very being now, and finally, to the exit.

The scientist had been sitting at his desk, or laying on the floor, or something. It was hard to remember. Max drifted closer to the locked steel door, the one that kept the subjects in and let the scientists out to who-knows-where at the end of every dreadful day. Closer, they drifted. Then, they stopped. No matter how much they tried to move further, some strange, unnatural, strong, invisible force was keeping them from moving on.

A sea of questions flowed through their already jumbled mind. They were dead, why couldn’t they leave? Was this all there was? Was this all their life and death would be? Why was this happening to them? What was keeping them trapped? What was keeping them from moving on?

They had no choice but to stay put in the only place they had ever known and will ever know. They had no choice but to accept their unlife of never being seen or heard again, nothing but a speck in a void that had swallowed them whole. They had no choice but to observe- to watch the scientist destroy himself, to perceive the clones’ suffering. Even in death, they couldn’t get their sweet, sweet peace.

In the sea of their eternal limbo, it hadn’t been that long ago when Anton decided to get a new test subject. Max waited in the lab all day like always, but Anton returned not alone. He carried in his arms someone new, alive but terrified. He was smaller than them both, his hair was fluffy and a face full of freckles. Max grieved for his life. His short, sad life that had been cut short the second the scientist had laid his eyes on him.

Poor Dew, was all they could think. Max had watched him cower under the bed the first day. They futilely tried and failed to comfort him with their nonexistent voice and body. Max had watched his botched escape attempt the second day. They failed to warn him, and could only hope his punishment would be light. Max had watched everything at all times, always unable to do anything about it, no matter how much they tried.

Sure, a part of Max was glad that the scientist had stopped destroying his body over and over again. They were relieved that he hadn’t broken himself in the five empty years he was alone. But a new dread pooled in their already dread filled stomach when they realized that it was Dew who was next in line. Their loud and busy mind swarmed with flashbacks of their time as his subject, and of all the horrible experiments he could do to his new one. Max only hoped that Dew would be given a better fate than they were.

Nothing could prepare Max for when the experiments started. They couldn’t bear to witness that again, to watch someone be broken down just like how they were. They’d hide in Dew’s room, but no matter how hard they squeezed their hands over their ears and covered their eye, the screams still lingered at the back of their mind and echoed in the air around them. And it was like they were back there again, cowering in a cage and scared of being dragged out and strapped to that metal table.

Max was there, waiting for Dew after every experiment, there to provide a phantom of nonexistent comfort that went unheard and unfelt no matter how much they tried. They wished they could do more than float by his side as nothing but a shadow on the wall or a coldness in the air. They wished they could help, but still, they were nothing. But being there, by his side, was both the least and most they could do.

While the scientist and his test subject slept soundly during the deep dark hours of the night, Max still lingered, floating aimlessly through the dark and empty lab. Above Dew’s bed, they watched over him during the night. It was their own way of keeping watch over him, protecting him from anything else that could be lurking in the dark… though they knew they were the only one. Perhaps they were protecting him from what consumed them: loneliness. As long as they were there, Dew would never be alone.

But they could never protect him from his nightmares. They couldn’t actually protect him from anything. They were useless, they were nothing. The only person who could protect Dew from hurt was the very man who hurt him… much like it was back then for them. A vicious cycle.

And even though Dew had always had someone at his beck and call to comfort him during his nightmares, nobody heard Max’s terrified screams when they had theirs.

Of course, dead people didn’t have to sleep. But sometimes, as the night droned long and dark, they felt themself unconsciously slip away to some place deeper inside their mind. It wasn’t actually sleep, the same way that it wasn’t actually pain. The dreams were a mix of memories surfacing from their spot deep in the abyss of their mind, bringing Max back to moments they hadn’t forgotten about yet. But oh, how they wish they did.

Dreaming. One of the only things that still filled them with dread, even as they were dead.

It was hard for their mind to conjure up good scenarios when the only life they’d known had been down there, and nothing good ever happened down there. Pierce was in most of their dreams, which always consisted of relentless torture and experimentation, their body bending and breaking over and over and over again as he tried and failed to make a shapesifter. It was a never-ending hell, even in the afterlife, the pain still lingered.

But sometimes they dreamed of more… peaceful times. Bittersweet times. Times that, in the sea of constant agony, gave them a sense of melancholy and wistfulness in a way they couldn’t explain. In the midst of their never-ending hell, they were given blankets by the scientist’s assistant, and were allowed to cuddle with his mouse. A small, fake comfort from someone they had almost considered a friend. Those were the best dreams. Because— like all of their dreams— Max could still feel them. They were being talked to and heard and listened to. They were seen. They were alive.

But sometimes, Max didn’t dream. Sometimes, Dew’s little machine was left playing during the dark hours of the night, and the pleasant sound of music streaming through the usual quiet abyss would be the only thing keeping them from falling back into their sea of nightmares.

It had been so long since Max had heard music, that it was almost an unrecognizable and surreal sound at first, filling their ears with bliss and peace, they never thought something could sound so beautiful. It brought back a strange feeling of familiarity, of… belonging. It almost made them feel alive again, whatever that could possibly feel like. Something about music tugged at their soul, encapsulated it. They were music, and music was them.

Sometimes, they would hum along. They were quite rusty, but nobody could hear them anyway, so it was okay. They were soon able to hum the sounds of their favorite songs from memory, filling the dreaded silence of the night with tunes that helped ease the pain of what was left of themself. Even without Dew’s little music box playing, humming still kept Max awake.

Humming, an action that felt so familiar, and yet so far away. It had been what they were doing that night.

Oh, what a horrible night. 

They’d watched Anton take Dew into the lab again. Before they could witness him put Dew in the tank and cause more horrible memories to resurface, they curled up in the corner and wished they could disappear. Only after a few hours, they were compelled to open their eyes and look out at what was happening, eyebrows furrowed and concern and confusion etched on their features. It was only after a few hours when they felt a light pull, a tug on their soul pulling their very being forward. A feeling they had only felt one other time before.

They knew immediately what it meant.

They weren’t the only one on the other side.

And just like that, it was gone. They blinked, and everything was normal again. They were all alone in their plane of existence, just like they had always been.

They decided to find out what the scientist was doing down there, what had become of Dew during this horrid experiment. They watched Anton cry. They watched Dew cry. And they cried with them.

It was all a blur, really. The last five years had been just that. And then Dew went to sleep in his bed and they watched over him like they always did. They floated awake in the corner of his room, thinking of semi-happier times, and hoping only the best for Dew.

And then Dew woke up.

They watched him stare blankly at the ceiling, like he always did, and was never able to see them. They watched him take out that- that knife.

They watched him give up.

And Max felt like they had died all over again.

Max curled into a ball and hummed their favorite tune. They thought that maybe, maybe this wasn’t all bad. Maybe, Dew would soon join them, and they wouldn’t have to be alone anymore. They cried. They cried for Dew, and they cried for Anton. They knew what Anton would do once he came into the lab the next morning to see that his… Dew had left him. He would destroy himself. Worse than before. Nobody would be coming back from this. Max grieved for all three of them.

“Hey.”

It wasn’t out of the ordinary for Dew to talk to himself. Max curled up tighter.

“H-Hey.”

They peaked an eye open.

“Wh-who are you?”

He was looking right at them. For the first time in the five long, grueling, unimaginably painful years since they left the mortal coil, somebody was looking at them. He wasn’t staring off into space or zoning out or peering into the dark abyss of night, he was staring, eyes still and focused, directly at them.

And they had no idea what this meant.

“You can… You can see me…?”

They thought they must be dreaming. No dream they had felt this real and this clear, but there was a first for everything, right?

…There was a first for everything.

“Y-yeah. Who are you? What’s going on?”

It was as if the world stopped spinning.

Dew, poor Dew, the new test subject, the guy with wings, the man Max had spent the past almost three months never leaving his side. Dew could see them. Somebody could see them. Somebody could hear them. Somebody was talking to them.

It had been so long. So long since words spoken by another person were meant for their ears. Max had almost forgotten that they were supposed to reply.

“I’m Max…” They said. “The last lab rat.”

. . .

“W-what?” Dew squeaked. Pure abject horror flashed through Dew’s eyes as he stared up at the person floating in front of him— the ghost.

“Anton’s previous test subject… You know, the one that came before you.” They had an expression that Dew couldn’t read. It almost looked like they were the one who’d seen a ghost.

Questions raced through Dew’s mind. If Anton had a previous test subject, that could only mean one thing. He didn’t want to think about it.

“You can see me? You can actually see me?” Their voice sounded hollow, pained, hurt, but it echoed off the walls smoothly. They moved closer to him, their body leaning forward as they floated seamlessly through the air as if they were underwater.

Tears sprung in his eyes and before Dew knew it, he was cowering as far back against the wall as his wings would allow him. Once he realized that he was still gripping the knife tightly in his hand, he shakily brought it up in front of himself. The sight of the silver glint of the knife shining off the light of Dew’s eyes brought the ghost to a sudden stop in front of him.

He pointed the knife towards them, the sharp point facing their transparent throat. It shook in his grip, but he didn’t dare let up. His breath hitched and he stifled a sob.

“Get- get away. Please don’t hurt me.”

The ghost’s eye widened, and they leaned back in realization. “You’re scared of me.” They said quietly, as if saying that sentence hurt them.

“P-Please,” Dew choked out, squeezing his eyes shut. “L-leave me alone.” He curled up deeper into a ball and wished he could disappear. They were watching him. Even if he couldn’t see it, he could feel it. Their presence was all too obvious now, the cool draft in the room, the chill it sent down his spine, their eye boring into him.

“Hey… I’m not gonna hurt you, Dew, ever,” Max said, voice wobbly and broken. “Please don’t be scared.”

His eyes shot open. “How do you know my name?”

“I…” He could see the reflection of the knife in their eye as they stared at it. “Please, Dew, put the knife down. Everything will be okay. I won’t hurt you.”

They sounded so… scared. Concern and worry etched in their face. Dew didn’t understand it. They were scared? But they were the ghost!

…Well, after thinking about it for more than five seconds, he supposed that whatever being a ghost here implied was surely scarier than anything else he was feeling. He took a deep breath.

“You… you promise you won’t hurt me?” Dew sniffled, wiping his eyes with his sleeve, still not loosening his grip on the knife.

“I promise.”

He looked up at their one visible eye. It was so dark in this light, like a void, and yet he somehow found solace in it. With a shaking hand, he set the knife down to the side of them both, hopefully sending the message that he wanted neither of them to touch it.

After he set the knife down, he watched the ghost visibly relax. They closed their eye and let out a breath of relief. Their body drifted down to his bed, and they sat across from him.

Dew’s eyes quickly adjusted to the sight and he got a closer look. Their hair was long and dangly, locs stretching out in different directions around their body as if they weren’t affected by gravity in the slightest. They were wearing a large, baggy yellow sweater and black pants, and their legs… it almost looked like they faded into the background of the air around them. Looking at them up close, Dew realized that one of their eyes was missing, and behind their hair was a black eyepatch. And there was a thin, ragged scar going across their throat.

“You can actually see me?” They asked again.

Dew’s head jerked into a nod. “Are you… real?”

They looked over their own body. They shrugged. “I think so?”

He furrowed his brows. “…Why- why are you here?”

They blinked. “I… I don’t know. I’ve been here as long as I can remember. It’s all I’ve ever known.”

“What do you mean?”

“I lived here. And I died here. And even after that… I’m still here. I dunno why either.”

“You’re- you’re dead?” Dew asked in horror.

A sad expression crossed their face. They nodded. “I think I’m what’s called a… ghost. After I died, I’ve just been here… watching. That’s how I know your name, I’ve seen everything you’ve gone through. But I couldn’t communicate to anyone, and nobody’s ever been able to see or hear me. Until… until now.”

“How am I seeing you now?”

“I dunno. Maybe… it’s got something to do with your eyes?” Max said as they gestured to their own eye for emphasis. “I… know none of this seems possible, but I stopped questioning what was possible long before I turned into a ghost…”

“What do you mean?”

“Like I said, I was P- Anton’s last test subject. You know by now that the things he does are… hard to wrap your mind around. There’s still so, so much you don’t know, Dew. There’s…” Their eye went wide. “…Still so much I wish I could forget.”

Dew felt like he was going to be sick. He couldn’t imagine what horrible things they must have gone through, what Anton must have done to them to get them to this point. “W-what did he do to you?”

They hugged their knees to their chest and hid their head between them. “…I don’t wanna talk about it,” they whispered, eyes glassy with a far away look to them.

Dew swallowed thickly. He really didn’t want to know… but he needed to ask. For the sake of his, well, his life. He needed to know the truth, even if it hurt him. “Did he- did he kill you?”

Max’s head jerked up and their eye went wide. “No! No, no no no! He didn’t kill me!” Max exclaimed with a face of pure desperation. “It uhm… it was complicated…” They squeezed their eye shut. Their expression turned to one of pain as they suddenly shook their head, movements unnatural and rapid as their hand jerked to grasp at their throat. They opened their teary eyes. “I don’t- I can’t r-emember. I can’t remember. But Anton didn’t kill me. He never would’ve killed me.”

“But then how did—”

“I don’t wanna talk about how I died. Please don’t make me remember.”

“O-okay. I’m sorry.”

Dew’s eyes drifted to the knife laying next to him on the sheets. He frowned. It was clean. His soft sheets and blankets were clean and warm. He felt his heart pounding in his chest and his mind racing with a million thoughts a minute. And yet… One question kept bubbling up to his mind. One that filled him with dread.

It was all he could think about ever since he woke up from that experiment earlier that night. He remembered it all so clearly, the darkness, the nothingness, and yet it all felt like a dream. Everything did, maybe this was like a dream. Or something new. Something worse. Maybe he… really was…

“Am… am I dead?” The words spilled from his mouth before he realized he was talking, but it was too late. The question was out there, spoken into existence. Now that he said it, it was obvious. He should have known, he should have realized sooner. The tip of the knife was so close to grazing his skin not that long ago, who was he to say it didn’t? He was talking to a ghost- a spirit- a dead person. How could he communicate to the other side if he wasn’t already there himself?

“…No. You’re not.”

He looked up. That… wasn’t the answer he was expecting. But something about their voice… Dew could tell they were telling the truth.

He wiped his tears from his cheeks with his palms. “But- but earlier—”

“You died. I saw. But you came back.”

“Wait.” His voice broke. Panic rose in his chest. He didn’t want to breathe. “Wait wait wait. But Anton said—”

“He lied.”

“I died?”

“For… for just a second. In the tank. I felt it. But you came back! Anton brought you back!”

“I died.”

“You aren’t anymore, Dew, please believe me. Maybe this is why you can see me. I-I dunno, but you’re alive. Please stay alive.”

“But I- I don’t- How do I know I can trust you?”

“I… I promise you can.” They looked deep in thought. “Do you… remember that day when Anton left you all alone all day?”

“Mhm.” He nodded, wondering where they were going with this.

“You escaped through the vents. And the only way you could keep using the vents was because Anton didn’t know about that, remember?”

“I remember.”

“I helped you then, too.”

“You… you erased the security footage?!”

Max nodded.

“But how?”

“…I don’t remember. But…” They closed their eyes.

… 

In the constant, roaring sea of their afterlife, there was only one time that Max’s world changed. Shattered. One dreamless night, they felt a shift in the air, and they knew what had happened.

Tears filled their vision. Their subconscious registered the news before they did, and it all came crashing into them like a tidal wave, pushing them deeper and deeper underwater. Big, wet tears flowed down their cheek like a waterfall. They screamed.

Their old friend was gone.

They screamed as loud as they could. Their voice echoed through the air, through the walls and beyond the limits of their perception.

Something changed within them that day.

Something somewhere deep inside them was awoken. An energy stronger than anything else, overwhelming them, overflowing in their sea of despair. Something was crawling, writing, scratching, bursting to the surface and begging to be released.

A crack. A shatter of a screen. A corruption of something their ghostly form couldn’t comprehend, but could so easily mess with. Their fingers ghosted over the black screens and the dead tapes. Static filled their mind like white noise from an ocean. They blinked.

Something changed. They changed something.

Nothing like that ever happened again.

They blinked again, and they were curled up on the cold floor of the lab next to their friends. The smell of spaghetti and mixed up chemicals filled their senses. The feeling of something soft sitting on their shoulder and nuzzling into their neck. They weren’t alone. Their old friend was here. Oh, how they missed them.

… 

How could they have forgotten?

…Max opened their eyes. “I remember now.”

Dew stared ahead. He didn’t know what to say.

“I didn’t understand it. I still don’t.” Max looked down at their hands. “I thought I was… nothing. Useless. But I changed something. That day I… I chose to channel all that energy into trying to help you.” They looked up. “I couldn’t believe it worked, it was the first time I've ever interacted with the physical plane since I died. And now, you can see me too. Maybe there’s… more to be discovered about me.”

“You’ve really been here with me this whole time?”

“Yes,” Max said. “Longer than you’ve been here. Longer than you could imagine.”

“So I’m… really not the only one. I’m not the only… lab rat.”

“We’re not the only lab rats.”

For so long, for the past three months, Dew had felt so alone. He was trapped, stripped of his autonomy, experimenting on, and expected to accept it. He felt lost and scared with only his captor to keep him company. He felt like nobody would ever understand what he was going through, like nobody would ever help him, like he would suffer as a lab rat alone forever. But now… Now he had someone like him. Someone who went through what he is, who understands him, who can relate to him, who is just as trapped as he is. He doesn’t have to suffer alone anymore. He doesn’t have to…

“Please don’t leave,” Dew said. “Please.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Dew,” Max said. “You’re not alone anymore.”

Dew smiled, sniffling. “You’re not either.”

For a second, it looked like they were about to smile too. But it could have been the trick of the light. “Just promise me, Dew… promise you’ll never give up.”

Dew looked at the knife. He shook away the thoughts about what would’ve happened to him if Max hadn’t revealed themself, if he hadn’t gained the ability to see them. He took a breath and kicked it off his bed. It clattered to the floor. “I promise.”

Max looked so relieved. “Thank you,” they said, wrapping their arms around themself. Dew wanted nothing more than to give them the hug they both so desperately needed.

…Maybe he could.

Dew hesitantly reached towards the ghost. He shivered as his hand phased through their face as if it was nothing, blurring into the background and warping their features as his hand moved around the ghostly air.

“Can you… feel that?” Dew asked.

“…In a weird way, yeah… Not in the same way you feel things, but…” Max lifted their hand and slowly rested it on Dew’s arm. Goosebumps spread across his bare skin, and he felt the weight of something touching him. A small invisible force in the air, covering him like a cold blanket. “Can you feel this?”

“Yeah. I- I think so.”

Max retracted their hand and brought it to their chest. They looked spooked, but quickly broke out into an expression Dew hadn’t seen from them yet: a smile. Their eye crinkled and they laughed softly, reaching up to ‘hold’ Dew’s hand that was still resting near their face.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Max said, voice drenched in emotion. “It’s been so long since I’ve talked to someone, Dew, you don’t understand. I didn’t think anyone would see me again. I thought I’d be alone forever.”

Max leaned forward and wrapped their ghostly limbs around Dew’s torso into a light hug. The air around him was engulfed in a comforting coldness, and he hugged the ghost back. Neither of them could actually feel the other as a physical touch, but it brought them comfort all the same. Real comfort, this time.

“Not anymore,” Dew said. “We’re not alone anymore.”

— 

i hope you all like Max!!! i’ve been waiting over a year to introduce them and i’m so happy you all finally get to read more about them! their backstory was only very briefly described here, and there will be a lot of chapters that take place in the past so we can see everything that Max went through, and how they ended up the way they are now! thank you all so much for reading tllr so far, i couldn’t have done this without all of your amazing support. this really is only the beginning :)

taglist:

@whumpinthepot @whump-me-all-night-long @whump321 @fuckcapitalismasshole @sorry-i-spaced 

@catnykit @tettlod @delicateprincepaper @rejectedbytheempty @mijajaj 

@anothertawogsideblog @creppersfunpalooza @toyybox @parasitebunny @bottlecapreader 

@thecareandkeepingofwhumpees @inkwell-and-dagger @vidawhump @thepotatoofnopes @labwhump 

@watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @whumping-valentine @whumpsoda @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @lumpofsand 

@cepheusgalaxy @lumpywhump @otter-chaos-violence @paperprinxe @kawaii-cakes 

@auradastler @whumperannon93 @befuddlednettle @eventide-triptych @bacillusinfection 

@whump-till-ya-jump 

let me know if you want to be removed or added to the taglist!

[luveline]

hi Jade! I had a Miguel request but I apologize that it’s rather vague. Could you do Miguel comforting/dealing w how to comfort r when she’s genuinely afraid of something? I figure he’d be a little lost until he snaps into how much he cares! <3 love u

hope this is okay, thank u for requesting!! ♥

cw drug mention

Miguel watches you from the corner of his eye, uneasy. Arms stretched out in front of you to avoid walking into walls in the dim lighting, you follow the beam of his flashlight through the dark laboratory you'd wanted to investigate one precarious step at a time. The air smells of water-logged wood, rotting and stagnant. 

You're not his protege, but Miguel decided to take you under his wing (his claw? his web?) because you have good ideas, and he needs all the help he can get if he's going to save everyone, everywhere. He's also fucking tired and he's agitated with you for bringing him to some derelict building in a dimension that doesn't have spiders, let alone Spider People. 

"Why did you need this thing?" he asks. 

"Already told you." 

"Tell me again." 

If Miguel thinks he's a man of little words, you talk even less. "Spider adjacent creatures create a chemical similar to what you're injecting now, but less volatile." 

He doesn't remember you telling him that before. He doesn't stutter, the only evidence of his surprise a waver of the light beam. 

"And you'll, what? Synthesise for me?" he asks. 

"It could be gentler. Maybe give you a sense of normalcy."

Normalcy. He hasn't felt normal in a long time. 

He snaps into the quiet, "This is a waste of time, I don't need something gentler, what I need is to be back at the lab fixing your communicator." 

"It'll be like methadone," you say, stepping over a puddle of water with no apparent source. It must be seeping upward. 

He's lucky he didn't just get 'methadone' and nothing else thrown at him. Miguel fixes the flashlight up the oncoming stairs as you start to ascend, lightly chastened. Methadone is a drug intended to assist in heroin dependency. It has its own cons, but in lots of cases, it can help the user stop using the original drug. He assumes you're suggesting that whatever drug he synthesises from the 'spider adjacent creature' will help him wean off of the injections (unlikely), or maybe repair some damaged DNA (complicated but not favourable right now).

"It'll be safer," you say, walking into the room toward an upturned lab bench. "You can make something with it. I know you can." 

"I have to do it?" he asks, stopped in the doorway. 

"You're the geneticist. It's really quiet." 

The lack of changing cadence to your voice doesn't catch up with him until you're turning back toward him, your nervous expression lit by the torch. One second you're looking at him for reassurance, and the next you're falling through the floor, wood splintering up in a wave as the boards crack.

You scream. As loud of a sound as Miguel has ever heard from you, your arms slam forward to catch onto the edge of the hole your feet created. Miguel doesn't immediately move, aware that his weight over the weakened floor will damage the integrity further, but you beg him, shrill, "Miguel," you say, your voice strangled, "help me!"  

Your arms scrabble for purchase, you're pleading through sobs, "I don't want to fall–" 

He snaps his torch to his shoulder and flips forward. He grabs your arms, rolling across the shattered flooring to the opposite end of the room, releasing you as the weight of your bodies lands. You oof and roll out of his arms. 

He's quick to get on his feet. Miguel hardly felt it. You flinch away from him and hold out your arms, a sleuce of maroon blood spilling down your side from under your arm. "Don't! Miguel, don't concentrate our weight!" 

"You're crying," he says. 

"Stop moving!" you yell. 

"Alright!" he yells back, moving back toward a load-bearing pillar. "Calm down, estúpida! I'm not going to let you fall." 

"You can't come over here, the floor's gonna break again." 

"It won't break." 

"It's going to break!" 

You breathe harshly, staring at the hole you'd made. He understands why you were scared. The fall was sudden, and if you'd managed to slide through the hole you would have snapped your legs, perhaps your spine. Super healing doesn't negate pain. 

"Lyla?" he asks. 

She appears from his watch, in pyjamas with her hair held back by a white bunny-eared headband. "I was taking my fake nap. What do you want?" 

"I want a filter that accounts for a building's structural integrity," he says. 

"That's impossible without blueprints and– Hey, woah, what happened to Y/N?" she asks, keying in on your frantic panting. 

"Tell me how to get from here to there without breaking through the floor," he says, snaps, incensed by your panicked breathing. 

Lyla thankfully doesn't argue, nor does she make him beg. His heart pounds at the sight of you where you're shaking, certain you're a moment from falling again, your hands clamped uselessly to an outlet fixture on the wall. 

A blue path lights up Miguel's UI. It directs him with blinking arrows on how to reach you. Miguel follows along, and, wanting to carry you or at the very least wipe your wet cheeks, he lifts you onto your feet and walks you back to the door, directing you over stress points, hand held taut in his. The floor groans and sags dangerously underfoot, but it doesn't collapse again. 

You should've been wearing your suit, he thinks. You're an idiot. You came out here wanting to find something for him when you should've been directing your efforts to the cause of the strike force and the whole Society, but you wasted time, and now you're injured. You should've been wearing your fucking web shooters–

You try uselessly to bury your hands in his suit, your face dropped to his chest. You sob quietly, your shoulders shaking. "I'm sorry," you say, borderline hysterical. 

Miguel brings his hand to your shoulder awkwardly. You might have made a mistake, but you're kind. You're more than a brilliant mind, you're a person, with fear and want intertwined. You clearly hadn't liked the dark but you'd braved it for him knowing the chemical here in the labs could improve his quality of life. He shouldn't think about you so meanly. You couldn't have known about the floor. 

"What are you sorry for?" he asks with a sigh. 

His awkwardness comes across as reluctance. You stiffen under his hand. 

"I thought I was gonna fall," you say weakly, sniffling against his chest. 

Miguel starts to rub a slow shape into your back. It feels wrong to hear and see you cry, his quiet cariño, who haunts his laboratory offering little in the way of words but always a smile if you have it to give. "It's okay," he says, ducking his head to talk into your hair. He remembers how to do this. "Don't cry. I would've caught you." 

Miguel would've followed you down and wrapped you up to take the brunt of it without thinking, he knows that.

Your arms wrap around his sides. "When you didn't come get me I thought you were gonna let me fall," you confess, with a wet laugh as if to say, How silly am I?

Insanely silly. 

Miguel pats your back in a steadying thump, thump, thump. "Are you kidding? You think something like that would happen on my watch?" 

You shudder and give a little cough. He's surprised you didn't throw up, you'd wound yourself that tightly. Miguel pushes you away to make sure you aren't about to yak on him, and to check your face over for injury. He moves down to your neck, your bloodied side. 

"We need to go home," he says, holding your arm up away from the wound in as tender a grasp as he's capable of. 

"I didn't find the adendiam."

"Forget about it," he says. "We're going home. You're hurt." 

Miguel would pull you through the portal kicking and screaming if he had to, but luckily, you don't make a fuss. 

—

It's admittedly a blow to your ego to have cried in Miguel's arms. You don't know what to say or how to look at him now, miserable as he wipes down your skin with an iodine solution. His touch lingers: his hand on your shoulder, his reassuring hug less than an hour before like a cobweb on your skin. 

He passes you a change of clothes, a simple white shirt for moments like this. There's no need or want for a hospital gown. 

You pull it on, wincing at the soreness despite your quick healing and the nanotechnology that stitched your mean cut. You've deep bruises everywhere, especially under your arms where you caught yourself. 

You haven't managed to stop shaking, curled forward with a disposable bedpan in your hands. The smell of iodine makes you nauseous. 

Miguel audibly huffs. You can't face his disappointed glare. 

"Sorry, Miguel," you say. "I… wanted to do something to help you." 

"That was your first mistake. I don't need help." 

You wince and go rigid, clinging to your bedpan for dear life and cursing yourself for being an idiot as he'd lamented, when a weight shifts on the examination table. A blue bedecked thigh spread out next to your own. 

"Second mistake, thinking I'd leave you to fall. Third, thinking you owe me an apology." 

"Any more?" you ask weakly. 

Your waist grows hot under the touch of a hand. Miguel wraps his arm around you gently. "No. Nothing else." 

Miguel pulls you in for a half hug.

You lean in to his side. He's solid beside you, and he starts to talk. He tells you about Rapture, the first time, and the mistakes he made after it. How scared he was in few words but an honest admission, his arm never moving from where it curls around you, holding you close. "We all have things that scare us," he says. "But you can't let them stop you from moving forward."

"How do you stop the fear?" you ask. 

"No, you can't. You need to keep going. I wasn't going to let you fall, and I won't, but you need to be able to pull yourself up. I can't… lose you to fear." 

You look up at the side of his face. He's looking down at the floor, not bashful or nervous but determined. His brow is set, and when he turns his gaze to you, it doesn't soften. 

"I can't lose you," he says. "I won't." 

You stare as he wraps you in a hug, your wide eyes looking over his shoulder in shock, your hands moving weakly behind his back to reciprocate. He drops his face into your neck. 

After a moment, you close your eyes and lean in. 

[luffyrose]

Mistaken - DC x DP

Idk man- this one fully just came to me. So have fun. Cry.

~~~~~~

Another rogue attack.

Bats coming to save the day.

It was a never-ending dance between the two.

Casualties were often low. People got hurt but fewer and fewer people died. Even major injuries had lessened over the years. It wasn't the focus of the villains to necessarily kill people, it was simply a byproduct of their goal.

So why was it different?

Why now?

Sure, Gotham's rogues weren't afraid to kill to gain attention, but this was different. The attack came from nowhere, no sign of it before it had already begun, and when Batman arrived...there was no villain there. Just the destruction in its wake.

He'd been quick to call the others for help searching for injured, and no doubt dead from the destruction, before getting to pulling people from rubble and fires. His kids arrived and did the same until another call came from Oracle. The fire department and ambulances had arrived, so they left it to them.

It had already been nearing the day, so when they finished dealing with some goons, the family had turned in for the night. Yet Bruce couldn't stop thinking about the explosion. The camera's from the building, he'd learned it was a lab of some sort, were far and few, really only showing the entrance. Even then they cut out before the explosion.

The news was talking of it, the owner of the lab was on it by now claiming it was an accident with some chemicals and they were investigating possible causes. He knew it was a lie, and from his children's faces when they heard it, they thought the same.

It didn't take him long to head there, not as Batman, but as Bruce Wayne.

He had planned to speak to the owner of the Lab, he really only remembered he wore a pristine white suit. Parking nearby, and offering help to those he saw as he passed, Bruce slowly made his way toward the main part of the crowd.

A quiet sob and cough made him freeze in his tracks. It was so quiet he doubted anyone would have noticed if they weren't trained. Glancing around, he slipped into the alleyway he'd heard the noise from. It was close to he accident, but far enough away no one would look down it...so why was someone here?

Bruce cautiously looked through the alley, his gaze hardening as he found a smaller figure curled up on itself, trying to hide behind a dumpster.

"Hello?"

The kid, because it really could only be a kid, flinched eyes darting toward him.

And Bruce froze.

Green eyes were staring back at him. Glowing, Lazarus, green eyes. Yet, his eyes were quick to drift from the color to the blood soaking the boy's clothes. Gritting his teeth, he crouched, holding up his hands. He couldn't see the boy well with this distance, but he couldn't risk not finding a way to help the kid.

"I'm not gonna hurt you...I promise."

The glow fluctuated for a moment before the other tried to move, wincing harshly as his arm gave out and sent him careening into the floor. Bruce had moved forward when he fell, worry clear on his face, and when the boy growled, only for it to fade into a whimper, he paused again.

"Let me help you. I can get you to a hosp-"

Panic filled the other's eyes, scrambling further away. "No! No, hospital. No, no, no no nononono-" Bruce kept his face from changing at the boy's voice. It was hoarse as if he hadn't used it or had been screaming.

Putting his hands up placatingly, he carefully shifted on his feet. "Okay. No hospital. But you need help...can I help you?" The boy seemed to be looking for something in his face, maybe a lie, but after a few moments, the kid's head bobbed before he collapsed onto the ground completely.

Taking the moment, Bruce moved beside him, careful not to touch him as he pulled out his phone, messaging Dick and Leslie. She would need to prep for some stitches no doubt from the blood, and he definitely couldn't get the boy elsewhere without some help. As he finished sending the messages, he felt a hand grab onto him weakly. Looking down at the boy, his heart absolutely sunk.

He could see him now. How his black hair fell over his eyes. Blue eyes. The green was temporary, probably powers, but now with those blue eyes, he looked like one of his many children. More specifically...a younger Jason. His heart clenched, gently taking the boy's hand despite himself.

This wasn't Jason...it wasn't.

It was clear the boy had started to grow delirious, his eyes unfocused for the most part, but staring so intently at him.

"...dad...?"

Oh.

Bruce could hear the harsh swallow he did, but smiled softly at the boy. Carefully sitting, he dragged the boy onto his lap, gently moving his hair. "You're gonna be alright..." It wasn't Jason, and he knew that...but that didn't mean he couldn't comfort the boy. If he happened to look like his father...Bruce wasn't going to try and correct him when he was so delirious, not when it may give him some kind of comfort.

He couldn't help the pain in his heart though as the kid practically melted into the touch, unfurling slightly and revealing some of his injuries. It wasn't his kid. It wasn't.

Maybe he could have comforted any of them like this if he'd listened in the past.

Shaking his head, he pushed down the feelings. He couldn't focus on that, not right now. Looking back at his phone, he saw a message, saying Dick was almost there. Part of him hoped he was alone...he knew that probably wasn't the case.

"I'm scared..."

Gazing back toward the kid, he put the phone back in his pocket. Putting his hand on the boy's cheek, he gently rubbed away some tears that had begun to fall. Before he could respond the boy's eyes drooped the little consciousness he had fading. "Hey, come on, try to stay awake." It was no use as the boy drifted off, only the too-slow rising and falling of his chest assuring Bruce he wasn't fully gone.

"Kid, come on you can't sleep yet-"

Two pairs of footsteps came from the entrance of the alley as Bruce tried to wake the boy, glancing back to see his oldest boys. What was slight, but worried, amusement turned to horror the closer they got, seeing the pool of blood. "Leslie is waiting." Without needing to say anything else, Dick was quick to carefully scoop the kid up, looking back to Jason. He seemed shell-shocked, staring at the boy. Bruce couldn't blame him.

They looked so similar.

~|0|~

Danny had...what had he been doing? He remembered the GIW, and lab equipment-

Oh.

The lab.

He had gotten out...but someone had seen him. Where was he now? Fighting to open his eyes, he saw the ceiling of a car. He could also see two older guys. He was in the back seat with his head...on someone's lap? Or was it a ghost? They felt like a ghost...but not.

Frowning, his eyes slowly drifted shut again. He'd thought he'd seen his dad...but, the man had been too kind. His- Jack was...he wouldn't have ever comforted him like that. Not now. Not in the past. Feeling himself drift off again, he felt small tears fall down his cheeks.

Why had his dad never comforted him like this stranger had? Why had he hurt him? Given him to the GIW after he'd told them what he was? If they truly hadn't believed him...if they had thought he was mimicking "their beloved son" then why not do everything they always said they would.

More tears fell, but he felt someone wipe them away again. It was a different hand...it was still rough, but gentler than the other had been. With a stuttered breath, Danny let the darkness take over his mind again. He probably wouldn't have let himself fall asleep again...but he would rather these people who reminded him of his family have him. Hurt him or not...he just didn't want to be alone.

A hum was the last thing he felt, a warmth he couldn't remember having in a long long time rumbling beneath his skin.

~|0|~

Jason had felt something when he'd seen the kid. The pits went quiet before pure worry erupted from them. He didn't know why...but it didn't help that this kid look like him. Looked like that little kid who'd never gotten help.

It didn't help that deep down Jason knew that this kid hadn't either.

He'd ended up carefully cradling his head in the back seats while Dick drove and Bruce messaged who he could only assume was Leslie or the family group chat. Either way, when he felt something wet land on his hand, he hadn't expected the kid to be crying.

Gently wiping the tears, he felt the frown on his face grow. "He's crying." He heard Bruce shifting, probably looking at the two, yet he ignored the other, just wiping the small tears. As he did, a warbling cry made him jump slightly. Glancing toward the other two, he saw the shock on both their faces.

"Well, he's definitely some kind of meta."

Bruce hummed, but Jason simply looked down again. The pit was silent for a moment, the non-stop worry having paused at the noise. So when a rumbling almost purr-like hum came from himself, he almost froze. Almost. His shock had been overrun by how the kid seemed to relax, one of his hands gently grabbing onto him.

"That...that was new."

He didn't need to look to know the two were even more shocked, if not worried. Jason couldn't bring himself to care for once, wiping the last of the falling tears before running his fingers through the fluffy and bloody locks of their mysterious meta-kid.

He wasn't a meta...he knew that deep down as well.

It didn't take long after for them to get to Leslie's clinic, taking the boy inside in a rush. He was quickly moved onto a stretcher and taken into one of the more medically equipped rooms. The three weren't far behind, entering the room as Leslie worked on removing the bloodied clothes, mainly his shirt.

A large y-shaped and inflamed gash met all of their eyes. It wasn't the cause of the bleeding, but it clearly had been done not too long before the large gash next to it. They weren't the only injuries he had, and he'd had plenty if the scars were to say anything. The most concerning was a Lichtenberg scar that stretched from his hand across his entire chest.

None of them had been ready for it. Dick covered his mouth as Jason audibly took a deep breath. Bruce was silent, but from the stare, they knew he was just as horrified.

Leslie was equally as horrified to find a child in the condition he was in, but gritted her teeth and got to work. It took a long time, but the boy didn't stir. She and the others had checked his vitals multiple times just to make sure he was still fine. He was...if the low heartbeat and temperature were normal. The temperature probably was to an extent at least, they'd figured that out after a frost had covered the bed he was on.

Finally, his injuries were stitched, but as Leslie left to get everything he would need the boy bolted upright.

His breathing was heavy, flinging himself out of the bed and into a corner. Jason reacted the fastest, getting over to him and enveloping him in a hug. It was definitely not the right thing you're supposed to do, but he'd done it before he'd even thought about it.

And when the boy's arms tightly wrapped around him, a loud echoey sob being muffled against his jacket he knew it had been the right instinct.

Neither let go nor did they move.

Dick came over, carefully sitting beside them and hugging them both, taking a moment to wipe a tear that had fallen from Jason's face...when had that happened?

With a quiet click of a door opening and closing, Jason buried his head into the younger black-haired boy's head. Leslie wouldn't have had silent footsteps. Bruce had left the room. He didn't know whether he was thankful or not for that. From the brief information, he'd told them, the kid thought Bruce was his dad.

"...I'm sorry..."

Shaking his head slightly, not bothering to lift it, Jason rubbed the other's back.

"Nothin' to be sorry for. You're alive."

Another rumble noise escaped him, but he couldn't bring himself to worry and wonder about it yet again as the kid clung tighter, a similar yet much sadder noise coming from him.

Both could feel the short breath of a small laugh from Dick, who still held them both.

"You both sound like birds, your nicknames pretty fitting now, Jaybird."

A laugh came from the boy, slightly startling the older two. But, it was a welcome sound, the rest of the tense air finally fading.

After a bit of silence, the kid spoke again.

"I think I called your dad my dad."

Jason couldn't help the smirk that grew on his face.

"Just sounds like you're the next sibling to be adopted."

"New baby bird!"

Danny was both incredibly confused and...pleasantly surprised by their words. He knew for a fact they'd seen his powers at some point. But then again, the one he was clinging to, Jaybird if the guy's nickname was to be used, wasn't entirely alive either.

"Honestly I should apologize for thinking he was my dad...he's probably worse."

Jason snorted out a laugh. He probably shouldn't, but damn if the kid with the scars all across his body said it, he was probably right. Dick made the noise he does whenever Jay makes a joke about his death, only causing the kid to look over.

"What, it's a very grave mistake."

[peachyloveswriting]

Knives just flirting with his S/O who head over heals for him?

I honestly wasn't going to answer this because it seriously doesn't fit his character to me but the more challenges the better so I'm trying this out for size. I got a bit away from myself here so it's been a very long story. I don't even think I actually did your request right. Look out for misspellings.

What a strange way to flirt --- Millions Knives

SUMMARY: Knives and reader dins themselves in a strange predicament after Knives begins to feel something for them.

Hot seething pain shoots through your arm as you cry out in pain, scrambling backwards pressing your back firmly against a wall you cry out.

"Leave me alone!"

Towering over you, your attacker grins devilishly, the spike in his hand raises high above his head, ready to strike.

"No can do sweetheart!"

Pulling your feet beneath you, you dive forward and roll onto your good shoulder whimpering in pain. Behind you, he slams the spike down where you just were, cracking the floor. Looking back in terror, you swallow harshly and scramble to your feet, rushing to the door.

"Knives!" You scream as loud as you can, hoping that he'll hear you soon. The door flies open as you dive through it, on the other side stands Knives, his arms unfolding to catch you as you tumble. In his grasp you stand up fast, twisting to look back in fear, body shaking uncontrollably.

"He's coming!" You yell.

Looking up at the doors, Knives watches your attacker emerge. His face scrunches up in anger as he pieces together the situation, his grip on your side becomes firm, tugging you closer. "I'll handle this."

The metal appendages extend from all around you, heading straight for the man emerging before you. Knives pushes you behind himself, blocking you from the spray of blood that comes after.

"Are you hurt?" He turns around to check you over, his eyes becoming intense as he notices the apparent spike sticking out of your arm.

"He got me while I was backed against a wall, I managed to jump out the way before he killed me but I still got hurt." Your hand ghosts over the stream of blood that spills down your arm, the warmth spreading across your skin. You hiss quietly, face scrunching up in pain.

"Let me... I'll take you to Con'rad. He'll take care of you." Softly scooping you up again his chest he strides down into the corridor towards the lab.

Shouldering the door open, Knives calls out to Con'rad. "My flower has been injured." Your brows furrow, you look up at him. Flower?

Con'rad scoffs. "Your flower?" Peeking his head around the corner his eyes widen, seeing you bleeding in Knives arms he jumps up into action. Motioning for Knives to sit you on the counter, Con'rad begins digging around cabinets to find supplies. "Gosh, what happened?" He asks.

"They were attacked..." Knives replies plainly.

As Knives sets you down, he tenderly grabs your hand to lift the arm and inspect it. You can only stare at him intensely in wonder, the thing he has referred to you as floods your mind, it feels like the next best thing to distract yourself from the pain.

"Flower?" His icy blue eyes meet yours. "Did you call me Flower?"

For a moment you can almost see a red hue creeping up his face, he silently looks away, Con'rad coming up to your side at the perfect moment for him to avoid the topic. His hand moves from yours as Con'rad grabs it to reach the spike, he looks at it closely before he lets your hand rest back in your lap, and he grabs the base of it pulling it from your akin with one sharp tug.

The pain fogs your mind, you call out, screaming in pain. Eyes screwed shut you clap your other hand over the wound, very clearly underneath your palm can you feel the indention of missing skin, it makes you hiss sharply through clenched teeth.

"Calm down!" A firm hand grasps your arm, another hand pulls yours away from the injury, going with it is the feeling of fresh blood. Sobs fall from your lips and you strain against the touch, flinching away from Con'rad.

Knives feels his gut twist indescribably hearing you sob hysterically, seeing the blood pouring from your arm makes his chest squeeze in pain. Normally blood wouldn't bother him, today seems different though.

A cool rag is pressed against your arm as you throw your head back in pain. "Hold this against their arm." He motions for Knives to step over.

Stepping closer, Knives stretches his hand over the rag holding it in place. Letting go, Con'rad moves over, grabbing the alcohol disinfectant. You open your eyes to observe Knives looking you over with worry, even with as hard as he's pressing down on the rag he's still trying to be gentle. Knives doesn't want you to be in pain because of him.

You glance over at Con'rad, he stands on the other side of a sink, an alcohol disinfectant in his hands as he pours it onto a cotton ball. Just seeing the bottle you know how painful this is going to be, you tense at the thought of it, your gut twisting in anticipation. The bottle is set back on the counter and Con'rad moves back over to grab your arm from Knives. Just before he reaches you, Knives pulls his hand out the way. Suddenly you reach out grabbing Knives wrist to keep him from moving far, his brows knit tightly together as he looks at you.

He feels like he should be disgusted by your touch, like he should punish you for even reaching out and grabbing him, but he can't seem to make the words form on his lips. He doesn't pull away while Con'rad reaches out to dab the wound. The alcohol burns deep, searing your skin as if it were on fire. You clench your eyes shut and tighten your grip on Knives wrist, the pain is so unbearable that you can't stop yourself from crying out again.

Your frustration and innate hunger for comfort burn through Knives' mind, tugging at his body. Your heart, body, and mind, he wants to connect. To soothe your fraying nerves and pull you close.

He moves your hand from his, dropping the rag to intertwine your fingers together, even though there's a break in touch the surface emotion connection does not break. He finds himself stepping closer to you, his other hand moving to the back of your neck while he presses his forehead against yours.

You grip his hand like a vice, tears welling up in your eyes again, threatening to spill if you open them. Slowly, like soft waves rolling up on a beach, cold waves move throughout your body. It's unnatural the way your frustration begins to melt away, and peace of mind settles back in. This sensation overwhelms you and flashing visions of Knives fill your head, suddenly it all falls dark and his voice comes to the front.

"I don't want to move, they're not okay yet... Could a human and a plant even connect like that?"

Your heart pounds in your ears. "Knives?" You call out.

Heat sweeps over your body and Knives abruptly pulls away from you, in his eyes you can see lingering disbelief, his wavering form lost. "Naï?" It slips out accidentally, like a subconscious response.

His gaze hardens. "I have more important things to do. See me when you're done." Cold, he turns away and begins to leave the room. In a confused silence, you watch him disappear behind closing doors, along with it going the numbness that had set in on your skin. Suddenly, Con'rad speaks up from beside you.

"You're special. You know?" You turn your head to look at him. "I've been with that boy ever since we crash landed here... I've never seen him do something like that."

You swallow harshly, watching his hand softly brush away the blood with the cotton ball. "Don't tell me that."

Con'rad looks up at you, his hands pausing for just a moment. "Huh?"

Your eyes trail back up to the doors. "Don't give me false hope Pops." This was enough for one day. "He's not human and he hates us anyway. Why would he care?"

Con'rad frowns. "He has feelings too..." He's known Knives for the better part of 150 years, he's never treated anyone, regardless of species, like that. You just haven't been around long enough to know that yourself, and you won't be around long enough to find out either, not unless he does the same thing to you that he did to Con'rad.

For the better part of your visit, you sit in awkward silence, muling over the happening of the day. Micro analyzing every single moment, look, and touch. Flower... You'd heard brief mentions of them from Knives: "They're fragile." He says. You've never seen one in person, though he seems to revere them in a way. They're plants, not like him though, they don't have conscience. Only made to look pretty... It's curious what he meant when he called you that.

"Alright. I know he wanted you to meet him afterwards but I think you should rest." A reassuring hand rests on your knee. "I can see it all over your face." Con'rad's face is soft as he looks up at you. He's been like a father figure ever since you arrived here, looking out for you and taking care of you. Such a kind soul.

"Thank you pops." Slowly you push yourself off the counter, finding yourself in a lazy half hug with him before you turn to head back to your room.

After what happened, you feel uncomfortable walking alone, like anyone could jump at you at any moment. It's strange not having Knives there, treading behind you every time you gaze over your shoulder, watching you, protecting you. Instead, you're exposed and even worse, vulnerable. Quickly you run to your room, shutting the door behind you and falling into the bed. Feeling safer than just moments ago, you feel sleep catching on, pulling you deeper into the mattress.

—⁠☆

Knives' head was reeling, all of these thoughts suddenly converging into one inside his skull like metal to a magnet. Even hours after initial contact he can still feel bare traces of your emotion, buzzing along his skin and thrashing his heart. Just the lingering touch of your skin on his leaves his heart racing and mind foggy.

He remembers the last thing he told you when he left, to meet him afterwards. Con'rad should have been long since finished by now, he felt. Yet you hadn't shown up yet, making his chest swirl with worry. Hopefully you haven't gone off alone again after what just happened, surely you're not that stupid. But Knives sets off to look for you, his first idea of your whereabouts being with Con'rad in the lab.

Cracking open the door, he looked around to see Con'rad sitting alone at his computer and Knives let out a sigh. Turning, he let the door click back shut as he continued his search. You were around here somewhere. Evidently, his last search occurred in your room. Quietly, after strolling the halls for what seemed like forever, Knives came to a stop outside your door. His hand grasped the cold knob, twisting it pushing it open, he stepped into the darkness.

Naï. You had called him naï. It confuses him, how you would know such a personal name like that. There's no way you just knew it, you must've come up with it yourself.

The closer he steps to your sleeping form under the covers the louder that name gets in his head, worst of all, it's you saying it this time. Not Vash.

Shaking his thoughts away, Knives kneels on the floor beside your bed, his hand ghosting over your warm cheek as you sleep. You disobeyed a direct order, to see him nonetheless, yet he can't find it in himself to grow angry. Your peaceful face makes him chest buzz, combined with the feeling of your skin against his hand he's going stir crazy. The warmth, the emotions, the connection opening back up again... It's all so much.

Suddenly, as if you were surprised, you jolted awake. His hand flinched back to his side and he quickly stood, trying to think of something to say that wouldn't sound suspicious. In that moment of thought, your eyes bore into his for what felt like an eternity, until he spoke.

"Good, you're awake. I was getting ready to wake you myself." Softly his hands move to brush off whatever imaginary dust hides on his torso, anything to keep from touching you again. "You didn't see me like I told you to."

You sit up, the blanket rolling off your shoulders. "I'm so sorry, I must've been so tired I-" his hand raises to stop you. "It's okay for just this once. Do it again and I'll see to it that you get a well deserved punishment."

Heat rises to your cheeks. "I'm sorry sir." As if you couldn't already die from embarrassment before, this was ten times worse.

"Come." Stepping towards the door he glanced back at you. "Accompany me."

With sleep still in your eyes and butterflies attacking your chest, you swing your legs over the side of the bed and slowly pull yourself to your feet. Patiently, Knives waits, his face soft as you step up to his side. As if he was praising you for listening, the ghost of a smile tugged at his lips, your heart fluttered.

Knives took the lead, keeping you close with a wavering blade that you never seem to notice. It guards your back to keep you from falling behind. Your silence makes him wonder if you're even there, he wants to spin around and tell you all about his worries for you just to fill the silence. But he withholds.

"You're staying with me now..." You look up at him confused. "Don't I already?"

He opens the door to his own room, holding it for you as you step through. "Well yes... But I'm moving you to my room. For your safety."

Eyes widening, you look at him. "Your room?"

The door shuts as he steps away towards the other side of the room. "Are you deaf? Yes, I said my room." He draws the curtain, light spilling into the white room. Everything here is the color white or something similar, it's blinding to look at.

"What about you? Where will you sleep?" You step forward to his side as he motions for you to join him on the balcony.

"I don't need sleep." He states simply as he pulls the sliding door open for you. That should have been common sense, he doesn't have to do anything else for survival like you, that's why he never eats. It just never crossed your mind.

"What will you do while I'm sleeping though, you can't just watch me... That's creepy." A shudder passes through you as you step out onto the balcony, the heat of the suns seeping into your skin.

Joining you by your side, Knives gaze down at the city below. "That's exactly what I planned to do." His brows raise. "What else would I do?" Not that he'd thought this through very much, split second decisions have never looked good on him, his desperation is showing.

"I don't know." You hum, turning your gaze below. "Maybe do the things you normally do?"

"Normally do? Play the piano I suppose... I'd like you by my side though." His hands would move with the feeling of your presence while he plays, at first it started as a mindful thing, keeping you safe from the others. It only turned to something more when he could no longer bear a room without your company.

"You played without me for a long time before I came, right?" You lift your gaze to meet his.

"I did..." You nod. "Then surely you don't need me there."

Knives adverts his gaze, confused on how he'd become so dependent on a simple human. He could play without you there but something in him refused to let the notes flow.

"I'd rather just watch you." He crosses his arms over his chest.

Heat blooms in your cheeks as you look away, the thought of him watching you in such a vulnerable moment is embarrassing, creepy even. To keep you safe, he says. That seems nearly impossible, it might relatively be the right answer but it doesn't feel like that.

Settling into this routine was strange, you'd grow tired, waiting until the last possible moment to sleep in the bed. Even going as far as falling asleep in obscure places, it felt wrong to have Knives sitting over your shoulder while you sleep. It doesn't sit right with you, but in the pit of your stomach rests a pinch of comfort. He cares. Con'rad said as much himself, to him it's evident that Knives must feel something for you, or else he wouldn't be acting the way he is.

Thinking about it leaves you restless, tossing and turning while Knives stands at the glass door, watching you in the reflection. The blankets feel too tight, too hot, and suffocating. You can't catch a break even when you throw the blankets off of you, hoping to catch some cool air. His bed is so much more comfortable than the one you had used before, and bigger too, yet no matter the way it is sleep just isn't coming.

Tired and annoyed, you sit up and push yourself out of the bed, cussing under your breath. Knives turns to look at you, furrowing his brows. "You aren't asleep yet."

You look up at him. "No shit..."

He follows you as you pull open the balcony door, stepping out behind you with a watchful gaze. "Is something the matter?" His hands twitch, wanting to rest up on your back and soothe your already tired mind.

You shake your head, resting your elbows on the railing as you look out at the city below. "Just can't stop thinking." You wave him off, feeling comfort from the cold breeze that brushes past.

"Of what?" You bite your lips at his question, your leg bouncing nervously as you clasp your hands together.

"I'm so sorry for all the troubles I must cause you..."

Knives leans beside you, his chest buzzing with a fire that only you ignite, it fills his head with these words. Things he wants to do, to say, things he doesn't understand. It all builds up into this ball he can't contain and it fumbles from his hands.

"You're worth all the trouble."

Your brows raise with surprise as you meet his gaze, eyes softer than they normally are, he takes on a gentle look. "What?" Your heart flutters, pounding in your chest furiously.

His hesitation bubbles into nervousness, it makes his stomach churn with unease. Reaching up, he runs a hand through his hair with a sigh. "If I had to, I'd do it all over again." In any situation, he'd jump to protect you, to save you over and over again.

"Save me?" Your face heats up quickly, making warmth spread in your chest as you roll your bottom lip between your teeth. "You'd really do that?"

"Well... If anything like that ever happens again, of course."

A small smile graces your lips as you look back out over the balcony, sleep is creeping back in, making your eyes grow heavy. A yawn collects in your chest, spreading to your mouth. You cover it as it comes out. You're too tired to really freak out over what he's said, it excites you still, but it's hard to react when you can hardly stand up straight. That's when you hear the door behind you open again.

"You're clearly tired, let's go back in." You gaze back at Knives with a tired smile, leaning away from the rail you walk back inside, letting Knives close the door back behind you.

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, you sigh. "It's pointless, I'm still not going to be able to fall asleep."

Knives frowns. "Maybe I could help with that?" You look up at him, cocking a brow. Just what could he possibly have in mind? He doesn't know much about this sort of thing so there's no way. "Alright then... Give it to me."

With a nod he strides to the other side of the bed and sits down, his hand pulling back the sheets. "Let me lay with you?"

Your face flushes, heart pounding in your ears. "Sure. I thought you didn't sleep though." Even under the vise of your own wonder, you pull up the side of your blankets and move to lay down.

Sliding in to get comfortable, he grabs the blanket, holding it up for you. "I normally wouldn't, I don't have too. I can sleep though, it's a choice not a necessity." He drapes the blanket over you, and rests his head softly on his pillow.

"Thank you. That's... This is very sweet of you." Scooting deeper into the bed you offer him another smile before you rest your head on the pillow. It feels surreal, the divit in the bed beside you where he lays, and the heat that he gives off. It all swallows you whole, wrapping you in a comforting smell and sending you off to sleep. Suddenly it's like he's the key to your problems, one you weren't looking for but stumbled upon by accident.

You're fast asleep, soft snores falling from your lips as you lay there. Underneath the sheets, Knives' hand slides over to yours, intertwining your fingers. Illuminating the outline of your hands, a soft light floods the bed. It's not bright enough to wake you, only bright enough to simply light your peaceful face.

In his chest, his heart is pounding, his skin is burning hot where you touch him. It lights his soul brightly and breathes life into the connection between you. The emotions flood in, breaching the gate and swallowing him into your mind. Your heartbeat is slow, images in your head flow calmly into a dream, you're okay.

—⁠☆

You wake up alone, the bed beside you is empty and a warm feeling buzzes inside of your chest. Something feels different than it was last night, like a new hole has been opened in your chest waiting to be filled. The memories of last night fill your mind as you sit up, looking around for Knives. Instead you find Con'rad sitting by the closed door, a clipboard in his hands.

"Hey pops." You greet him with a stretch.

He looks up at you. "Good morning. Master Knives had to leave this morning. He wanted me to accompany you."

Pulling the blanket off your legs you scoot to the edge of the bed and stand with a groan. "Where did he say he was going?"

Con'rad stands and shrugs his shoulders. "He didn't tell me, his personal matters don't concern me." He tucks his clipboard under his arm. "Breakfast?"

Con'rad takes you down to the kitchen, opening cabinets to grab stuff for breakfast while you sit down on the counter top, watching him wonder about. Leaning down, he reaches into the bottom cabinets and grabs a pan.

"How's your arm?" He glanced at you as he set the pan on the burner. "Better than before." You shrug.

He hums. "Good."

After the incident, you healed quickly, faster than you should have. It was abnormal compared to how you should have healed, not even a scar was left behind, only leaving you with the memory. Con'rad carefully watched the injury, keeping it from growing infected. Even he had taken note of how unbelievably fast it had gone away, going as far as to say that Knives may have contributed to your fast recovery. It left you confused, with more questions than answers.

"I think I understand how he did it." Con'rad suddenly speaks, making you confused. It's like he was saying something before you tuned in.

"How what?"

"How you healed so fast, how Knives may have contributed."

Subconsciously, a smile spreads across your face. "It's like you read my mind Pops."

He laughs dryly. "Oh it's nothing." Grinning lazily, he drops a slice of butter in the hot pan. "I just think you should know, plants have healing capabilities. I understand it comes naturally to some, for others it's a different situation though." He leans his elbow on the counter. "In order for a plant like Knives to heal something he has to want it. Not just a surface level either, the want must be felt via an emotional bond or connection. I'm sure you've experienced this connection already."

You think back to the feeling that washed over you when Con'rad was cleaning your injury, and you nod hesitantly. "I think, I'm not sure what it was if I'm honest."

He nods earnestly. "Plants bond optionally to other plants through touch, the same can be passed from plant to human as well. Though it's only through the plants decision, it offers a bridge of emotion between them, giving the chance to openly transfer and hear each other's thoughts and emotions."

Taking a slice of bread he drops it into the pan as well. "Knives seems to have bridged this bond between you both by open choice, as a result of this it's allowed him to offer you vitality. Just by touch alone he can excel the healing process exponentially and even pass feelings of serenity between you. In short, I believe he's courted you without realizing."

Your stomach churns, striking your chest like a match in surprise. Eyes wide, you lick your dry lips. "Courted... Me?"

Con'rad flips the bread, a hum slipping from his lips. "Yes. I can't say for sure what it really is but in previous studies from the lost ages we can see mentions of this happening between plants. They believed that it may have been a courting ritual, forming that bond, it seems that only the ones who don't find it easy to just heal do this the best."

Mind reeling, you cast your gaze to the floor in shock. "Does he even know?"

"Possibly." Con'rad begins. "For that bond to have even happened between you he had to have strong enough feelings to complete it. That probably means he felt an instinctual pull to form a bond with you."

Knives hates humans so much, why would he bond with you? It's like one big fat lie, but it would explain the conflicting feelings buzzing in your chest. "But it was subconscious, so he must not have realized by now."

That was likely true, if it was instinctual then he probably didn't do it on purpose. More than likely he's probably not even aware of what he's done. That thought stuck with you until Knives returned, his immediate destination being by your side. The doors to the lab opened and he stepped in, his eyes pulling to your form. He strolled over, speckles of blood spotting his body.

"Good. You're here. Care to join me while I clean up?" Your stomach flips as you stand from your seat. "You mean a shower? You know how inappropriate that is." Your face flushes at the thought of him in a state of undress, it unlikely he even could undress, that suit seems like a part of his skin.

"No, the pool." A bladed tendril slithers out from behind him, carefully pressing against your back and guiding you forward. "Come on." He begins to walk away, barely offering you enough time to wave bye to Con'rad. The door swings shut behind you, and you jog forward to reach Knives' side.

"What were you doing?" You peer up at him. Blood dirties his face though it's not very much, just enough to be very noticeable.

"Business." His simple statement leaves the conversation at a stalemate as you reach the elevator. From there, you ride down to the pool. The lights inside the water cast a blue haze over the walls and you can very clearly see an opening of glass at the side of the tank. The room on the other side is shrouded in darkness, it sends shivers down your spine.

Wandering in front of you, Knives places his hand on the edge of the pool and jumps in, as he goes under you step up to the edge and peer inside. Beneath this is probably 50 feet worth of water before it meets the floor, suddenly you don't want to get inside. Even if you did, you still wouldn't be able to, your clothes would get wet.

"You not gonna get in?" Knives asks as he breaches the surface, his hair slick against his head. You shake your head, taking a step back. "I'm not wearing the right thing."

His face falls, lips drawn into a thin line. "It doesn't matter, I'll get you other clothes later. Just get in." He swims up to the edge and rests his arms along the side. You stare at the water then at him. If you said why you really didn't want to get in he'd surely laugh, but you've run out of excuses. Noticing your hesitation, he smiles.

"Are you afraid?" It's not condescending, might even be softly spoken but it feels so out of character for him. "It's deep, I know, but I promise I won't let anything bad happen."

You step closer, peering into the depths again. "Would you really?"

He nods to you and stretches his hand out, eyes soft and genuine. "If you hold onto me, yes." His hand is an open invitation for you to grab and lower yourself down, letting the water rest at your legs before you slip in. You stare at it instead, unsure of how to feel. Taking a deep breath, you step right up to the edge, placing your hand in his as you lower yourself to sit. Your legs dangle into the water, giving you an even clearer view of the vastness below. Swallowing harshly, you tighten your grip on his hand and slip in.

"Good job petal." He smiles brightly at you, turning to fully face you. Your whole body shakes while your face grows hot. "Petal?" You wonder aloud. He doesn't acknowledge it and instead uses his feet to push himself further away from the edge, dragging you with.

Eyes wide when you look down in a panic, you gasp, heart dropping to your stomach. If you couldn't swim you'd undoubtedly be sinking like a rock, likely ready to accept death by drowning. Just being in this situation is enough to put you on edge.

"Do you trust me?" Your eyes meet his, soft shaky breaths leave your lips quietly. "No. No, I don't." Using his hand as leverage, you pull yourself closer to him and tightly wrap around his arm. "Fuck... Knives. I don't like this."

He feels you shaking against him as you wearily look down, nervously chewing your bottom lip. Fear lingers in the back of his mind and he knows it's you, he can feel your fear. It's strong, but not enough to affect him badly. "It's okay." He coos.

Shaking your head, you look at him with tears in your eyes and begin to hyperventilate. It burns your throat the way it clenches, you can't seem to think straight with the emptiness below you threatening to swallow you whole.

"No. It's not. I need to get out." You desperately look to the edge of the pool where you got in, your legs aching for solid ground again. You can't bear to look down anymore in fear that your heart might explode from the stress, instead opting to close your eyes. Knives watches you close them with a deep frown, his other hand comes up to rest at the back of your neck. From his touch blooms the feeling of cold waves again, they flow through you, dragging away the panic as they leave. Knives doesn't move his hand until he feels your heart has slowed to an adamant rate, enough that he feels you'll be okay now.

Without a moment's notice he pulls you underneath the water with him, you open your eyes and his soft and sweet smile greets you. "That's it." He purrs. You open your mouth to question him but quickly snap it shut when water rushes in. Looking back up to the surface you point and gesture for him to swim back up. For a moment he cocks his brow in question before he breaches the surface with you.

You spit out the water. "You can breathe underwater?!" He's blankly staring at you before he bursts into laughter. "No. I just don't have to breathe at all."

"Really?" He nods his head with a smile. "Yes. If I'm being honest I forgot you needed to breathe." You can see now that the blood has washed from his face and body, leaving behind the cleanliness that he sheds everywhere.

"oh my gosh." You scoff. He chuckles quietly. "I remember everything about you but that's the one thing I forget." He shakes his head. "Disappointing."

Smiling, you playfully smack his shoulder. "Rude." He laughs it off.

The pool falls silent as he pulls you around with him, his hand in yours. Softly, the designs of his suit spread from the skin of his hand, glowing to the tips of your fingers. "You calmed me down again... Didn't you?" Your gaze lingers on your hands before moving to him.

"What do you mean?" His brows furrowed. Lifting your hands out of the water you move them into view. Very clearly now the lines are starting to spread to you, only up to your knuckles.

"This. It's a connection." His eyes widen at the sight of your hand taking on his own designs. "But your hand." He pulls it closer to him, gently running his finger over the newly formed lines.

"I don't know... Con'rad never said anything about this." His eyes meet yours. "What did he say?"

Looking away from your hand and up at him, you hum. "It forms a mental and emotional bond. But this? I have no idea." You shake your head. "We should tell him, he might know something."

He looks back at your hand again, the pattern up to your wrist now. "He will." He swims back to the edge of the pool, letting you climb out first. As you stand, his hand slips from yours and the pattern glow begins to fade.

"It's going away!" As he stands, he gazes at it sternly. "It's not permanent..." Grabbing your hand he lifts it to look closer. The moment his skin touches yours it lights up, continuing to slowly climb up your arm. You don't feel any different though. "We should still tell Con'rad."

He adjusts his hold on your hand and begins to pull you with him back to the elevator. "C'mon."

Reaching the floor, he pulls you out and down the hall to Con'rad's lab. "Con'rad!" He calls out as he pushes the door open.

"Master Knives." Con'rad turns to face you in his chair. "You need something?"

"This." Walking closer to him, Knives stops just feet away from his seat and lifts your hands together. "What is this? Is it bad?" In the back of your mind, worry festers, but you feel it's not your own emotion.

Con'rad's brows shoot up in surprise, leaning forward to look closer, he sees the pattern has crawled up to your elbow now. "This is interesting." He pulls your hands apart, making the pattern fall dim, a small indention on where it resides is still there. "It stays..."

Knives groans, desperation building in his chest. "Is it bad? Just say it." Sitting back in his chair, Con'rad lightly rubs his chin. "More likely than not, no. Then again, plants have never bonded with humans before so this is an entirely new process."

"Bond? Process? What are you saying?" Con'rad gazes at Knives before looking at you. "You tell him."

"Me?! I hardly understand it myself!" Knives turns his head to look at you, in his eyes you can see the confusion but in your chest you can feel his frustration.

"Tell me." He's not asking, he's telling you. It's an order and it makes you shudder. "I am."

Taking a deep breath, you exhale softly. "You bonded with me subconsciously and opened a connection between us mentally and emotionally, it's not just a bond though. It's a courting process that plants used to have a long time ago."

His eyes widen. "What they're trying to say is that you're essentially 'mates' now, if that's what you want to call it." Con'rad stands from his chair. "But since it's a cross species connection, there are side effects we didn't know about before. I'm not saying that I know what they are but I am saying that we should find out."

Looking at you, Knives' face softens. "I didn't know..." He feels regret bubble in his chest. "I'm so sorry for putting you in danger." His sad voice makes you want to grab his hand in reassurance, but you feel unsure.

"I don't think they're in any kind of danger." Knives looks at Con'rad, his hand reaching for yours. "How do you know?"

Walking towards his clipboard, Con'rad picks up a pen. "The effects that Plants have on other living things are severe, to a point that even the smallest negative thing could kill instantly. It should be the same for humans..." He trails off.

"So basically, I don't need to worry?" You lightly squeeze Knives hand as you step forward. Con'rad sets the pen back down and turns to look at you, his finger pointing at Knives' hand in yours. "The more he does that... opening the connection between you two... I think he's strengthening that bond. But at the same time something else might be happening as well." He turns to rummage through the drawers under the counter.

"If you'll allow it... I'll take samples of your blood to see what exactly might be going on, if it even involves that."

You look away from Con'rad to Knives. "I'd like to find out. If that's okay with you?" He adverts his gaze to the floor, unsure of how to react. Knowing what he knows now... He doesn't want you to leave his sight. The risk feels too great to him now. He can't just stand by leaving you, his partner, uneducated about what could be his fault.

"Of course." You offer him a smile as you step away from him, your hand slipping from his.

"Yeah, let's do it."

When it was over, Con'rad was quick to get you back the results. "I looked at my previous sample from him and I noticed some similarities in cell structure. It almost seems like the more he makes that connection the more he imprints on you..." You furrow your brows, confused.

"Am I turning into a plant or something?"

Tucking the clipboard under his arm, he meets your gaze. "Not entirely..."

Knives steps closer to you, his gaze hardening. "Not entirely? What does that mean?" You look up to see Knives clenching his jaw, he's grown unbelievably impatient. "Stop wasting time."

Con'rad nods. "Yes sir." His stance straightens before he begins. "You're not turning into a plant per say, it's more like he's changing your biological composition to better match his DNA."

You cast a glare at Con'rad. "It's the same thing! You literally just said that he's turning me into a plant."

He shakes his head. "I don't think you understand... It's not a full process, from what I've seen the plant cells are simply acting as a shield, they cover your actual cells but they don't take over. So, yes. Should he connect any deeper and fully undergo this process you will technically be part plant. It's nothing to be worried about though."

Looking away in shock, you step back. "Oh."

Knives casts you a worried glance before he looks back at Con'rad. "Why would it do that? They wouldn't want this."

Con'rad sighs, his hand rising to push his glasses up his nose. "It's so that you're more compatible when breeding."

Your heart dropped to your stomach, both Knives' and your faces flushed. "Oh God." You step back and turn around, hiding your face in your hands. "This is insane..." You mutter as you begin to pace a small path.

Knives turns and looks back at you, slight guilt swimming in his eyes. He can see the stress in your face when you look at him. "I didn't even know what I had done..." He sounds disappointed.

Stopping where you walk, you take a deep breath and sigh, trying to calm your fraying nerves. "It's okay Knives." You give him your best reassuring smile before you look back down at your wet clothes. "Can I please change out of these? I can't handle being like this at the moment."

You pull them away from your body, the water begins to feel cold against the air and uncomfortable. Stepping up to you, Knives places a light hand on your shoulder. "Yeah, c'mon."

Quietly, he takes you from the lab and leads you down to his room. Pushing open the door he steps inside, flicking on the light. "I have some spare clothes from Con'rad when he thought I would want them. They might fit you." He digs through the drawers, pulling out a shirt and sweatpants for you.

Standing upright, nudging the drawer shut with his knee he hands them to you. You take them happily, moving over to place them on the bed. Behind you Knives goes to leave the room, and offer you privacy, but you turn to stop him.

"Wait." You say. He stops and turns to look at you, his brow raised in question. "You can stay here, just don't look. I want to talk to you."

He turns away from you to allow you privacy, his arms carefully crossed over his chest. "I wanted to speak to you too." He admits.

Pulling your shirt off of your head, you grab the dry one and pull it over you. "I kind of expected that, but I just want you to know that I'm not mad about this whole plant thing." Your face burns at the thought of Con'rad's words before you left. "It's hard to be mad at you when you really didn't have a choice in the matter."

"Yeah, but I was the one who did it, if I knew-" you cut him short. "If you knew, the keyword being if, because you didn't know. It was only your body's way of physically saying you liked me that's all it is."

Next you tugged off your pants letting them fall to the floor then pulled on the sweatpants he gave you.

"But you didn't have a choice in the matter, what if you didn't want that?" He counters.

Turning around, tossing your wet clothes in the corner, you make your way over to him. "You didn't either, neither of us had a choice. You didn't mean to do it, end of story. I just have to accept what's happening now and you do too."

He turns around to face you, his face in what seems like shock and shame. "Are you okay with being stuck with me like this? It doesn't bother you or make you uncomfortable?"

You shake your head. "Knives, I like you just as much as you like me. This was a bit unexpected but I'm sure I'll get used to it." You can see the visible discomfort in his face, he clearly doesn't want you to be invoked in something you don't want. "Why don't we make things right by starting from a confession?" Your face softens.

His tense shoulders relax at your suggestion and he looks to the side in thought, thinking over your offer. When he looks back at you, he nods. "Yeah." He agrees softly.

Offering him a gentle smile, you speak. "I'll start first... I really like you, Knives, I think you're an extremely intelligent person and I know you have a big heart. There's some things you do that just send my heart into space... I really really want you."

You can feel your face heat up, and you lift a hand to cover your mouth. "Gods that sounds awkward."

Knives smiles, a chuckle falling from his lips. Uncrossing his arms, he reaches out and pulls your hand away from your face. "Don't hide it, I think you look cute when you're flustered." The tenseness in his voice has washed away, replaced by a nice inviting warmth.

"My turn...You have the most captivating personality, I can't help but be interested in everything you say. Even from the moment I met you I couldn't help but feel a pull towards you." His smile grows. "I really like you too."

Your face is burning hot now, and your heart flutters intensely. It feels like you might pass out. Lifting a hand to your face he cups your cheek, staring directly into your eyes. "Wow, Knives... Thank you."

His eyes soften and he hums. "It's my pleasure, Flower."