#some minor burns but otherwise nobody was hurt

[iapislazuli]

Guys I’m going to be so bare naked ass honest with you we had a house fire tonight and I was standing in the kitchen with the flaming stove reading the Wikipedia page for fire

[wangxianficfinder]

In the mood for a Fic...

Happy New Year, everyone! May it treat you kindly! ~Mod L

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1. hi, for the next itmf could you recommend some good 'police au' ? preferably wangxian oriented. I'm really into all that police, crime, csi etc. stuff :] thx in advance <3

🧡 CSI: Gusu Edition Series by Stratisphyre (M, 39k, WangXian, WWX & LQR, Modern with Magic AU, College AU, Golden Core Reveal, Single parent WWX, Good Uncle LQR, Hospitalization, Allusions to violence and murder)

a garden in your ribcage by puddingcatbeans (G, 13k, WangXian, Modern with Magic, soft witches au, Developing Relationship)

doing the wrong thing wholeheartedly by isabilightwood (E, 19k, WangXian, Modern AU, Modern Cultivation, mentions of creatures from other cultures also existing, Enemies to Lovers, meet ugly, Case Fic, There Was Only One Bed, Fakeout Makeout, Bottom LWJ, Top WWX, Bathtub Sex, Hair-pulling, Edging, Fluff and Smut, Post-Coital Cuddling) these are modern with magic case fic where wangxian are investigators, not sure if this would work?

When a Bird Flies, It Leaves Feathers by Bem_Kofi (Not Rated, 75k, WangXian, Modern AU, Police, Police Officer LWJ, Medical Examiner WWX, Minor Character Death)

Keep Track of Losing Days by giraffeter (T, 74k, WangXian, Modern AU, Case Fic, Police, Missing Persons, Mystery, Getting Together, Flashbacks, Rooftop Conversations, Detective LWJ, antifa WWX, Endgame NieLan, Angst with a Happy Ending, Sharing a Bed, First Kiss, First Meetings, Seattle, Mutual Pining, nonfatal car accident, mafia wens, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Friends to Lovers)

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2. Hiiii! Happy late holidays hope you all r having a good one, im wondering if there are fics of Divergent by Veronica Roth (the book/movie) aus with wangxian, or threadfics, blogs, posts etc.

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3. Hi! Merry Christmas for those who celebrate! I wanted to say how thankful I feel for this site, and how you made me find stories I would not have read otherwise if it were not for you. I just read Misalignment, by Kasasagi, and I loved it! I want to recommend it and also ask if you know more of this kind of stories were WX is not the main pairing, but still has an amazing plot. Thank you!

Eyes Wide Shut by Netrixie (T, 65k, LXC/NMJ, wangxian, canon divergence, no sunshot, everyone lives au, enemies to friends to lovers, identity porn, mistaken identity, misunderstanding, slow burn)

Emergency Help Wanted by Piyo13 (T, 76k, wangxian, modern, fake/pretend relationship, lawyer JC, everyone lives au, fluff, slow burn, happy ending)

easier, with you by pinkfluffygiant (T, 34k, LJY/LSZ, summer camp au, disaster camp counselors, pining, friends to lovers)

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4. may i ask for fics where wwx helps with sunshot, but he either manages to hide his demonic cultivation, or (with help?) frame it positively so he doesn't end up feared or hated after they win? maybe he's even (god forbid) admired or something? thank you!

And Time Is But a Paper Moon by sami (M, 138k, WangXian, XiChengQing, Time Travel, Fix-It, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Healing, Mental Health Issues, PTSD, Hurt/Comfort, Depression, BAMF WWX, BAMF JC, BAMF LWJ, BAMF JYL, Getting Together)

if you can't beat them, recruit them by moeblobmegane (T, 216k, Time Travel Fix-It, Conspiracy, Spies & Secret Agents, Team as Family, Found Family, WIP)

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5. my lovelies, my fanfic deities. Praise be to you! I am down a rabbit hole again and in desperate need of your help. I have a serious craving for canon-complaint/post-canon (or divergent, but not completely left field AU) fics where WWX has a fear of heights. Specifically, as a result of his being thrown into the BM off a great height. Discussions of it, descriptions of it manifesting, working through it, etc; panic attacks get bonus points but aren't obligatory.

Red Flower With One Hundred Petals; Smoke Carried on the Blue Dusk Air by carolyncaves (T, 32k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Post-Sunshot Campaign, Alcohol, Mental Health Issues, Angst, Golden Core Reveal, Hurt/Comfort, thoughts of death/dying, Caretaking, Marriage Proposal, Wedding Fluff, Family Feels, Literal Sleeping Together, Shotgun Wedding, angry wedding planner JC, Yunmeng sibling drama and fluff, physical affection, Terrible Parties, Happy Ending, for WangXian) perhaps this might work? WWX had to be taken on someone else's sword twice and panics both times

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6. Modern wangxian meet past wangxian

Write It on My Neck by diamondbruise (E, 23k, WangXian, A/B/O Dynamics, Transmigration, Alpha LWJ, Omega WWX, Fake Marriage, Falling In Love, Jealousy, Happy Ending, Anal Sex, Spanking, usual wangxian cnc elements, Misunderstandings)

Crazy Little Thing Called Time by kippalittlefox (T, 11k, WangXian, Time Travel Fix-It, Fluff and Humor, Getting Together, Established Relationship, Angst with a Happy Ending)

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7. Hello I have a request but I am kind of new here. I can figure out how comment a request. -- (this first part put into a finder post)

Also if you know if any fic where wei ying takes the 33 lashes instead of lan zhan. I'd appreciate it. I hope you are enjoying the holidays and that you have a week. @autumnchild26-blog

If I Could Go Back in Time by Runningbarefoot (M, 122k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Role Reversal, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Pining, Angst with a Happy Ending, Grief/Mourning, YLLZ WWX, Eventual Happy Ending, The Twin Jade Brotherhood, Hurt/Comfort, Character Study, Twin Prides of Yúnmèng Dynamics, Slow Burn)

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8. pardon the double ask 😅 but could you also recommend some Lan Qiren redemption fics? im generally chill about him haha but it would be lovely to see him genuinely sorry about his treatment of his nephews (especially like, after seeing LWJ's steadfastness after having been whipped 33 mfing times, or even for his part in lwj's lonely childhood) and/or WWX, and extra lovely if he took steps to fix it and rebuild a better relationship! thank you!!

hi! i sent #8 and i thought maybe i should add that i love the 'good uncle lqr tag' and there's a significant overlap, but i'd love to see fics that don't start out with him being good, more (hypocritically) angry or patronizing toward lwj/wwx and then realizing his flaws or (bonus) working to redeem himself (i had time to read cabbages and it it's great, thanks for the rec!)

In Walls of Glass by Comfect (T, 23k, LXC & LQR & LWJ, LQR & WWX, CSSR & LQR, wangxian, LXC/JC, good uncle LQR, teacher LQR, canon divergence, everyone lives au, fix-it, butterfly effect, JC friendly, LQR pov, not WWX friendly, in LQR’s head mainly and at the start, family feels, demonic cultivation, cultivation theory, WIP)

Cabbages by dreaming of your qin (sherleigh) (G, 20k, LQR & WWX, LQR & LWJ, wangxian, post-canon)

they might want to check out the Good Uncle Lan Qiren tag

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9. may I have some fics where WWX became a Supreme Ghost? @sareen-momos-stuff

🧡 The Red Ribbon by Xiao_Hua (M, 21k, WangXian, HuaLian, Canon Divergence, Ghost City, a bit of beefleaf, Immortality, Cultivation Partners, Juniors, XL and HC find a child who happens to be WWX, Fluffy wangxian, WWX is a Supreme Ghost King, First Time)

Back From The Dead by Suibian_613 (T, 44k, WIP, WangXian, XuanLi, HuaLian, XuanXuan, XinQing, Canon Divergence, Canonical Character Death, Supreme Ghost King WWX)

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10. Hiiii. For the next itmf fic rec, can you please recommend some with virgin wwx and experienced lwj. Thank you.

Lan-Laoshi! by Bee_Li (M, 2k, WangXian, Modern AU, age gap, Professor LWJ, College Student WWX, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Barebacking, Desk Sex, Pre-Relationship, College/University, Hair-pulling, CreamPie, LWJ is in his early thirties, WWX is like 21-22, Experienced LWJ, LWJ Fucks, inexperienced wwx, Virgin WWX, Kinda dark LWJ, Hand Jobs, First Time, Spit Kink, Spit As Lube)

all the trembling ways by typefortydeductions (E, 11k, WangXian, First Time, Overstimulation, Verbal Humiliation, Rimming, First Time Blow Jobs, Anal Sex, Dirty Talk, Aftercare, sex tears, lwj FUCKS, Modern AU, Dom/sub Undertones, Porn with Feelings)

kiss me more (we got nothing to lose) by xeansiao (E, 5k, WangXian, Mutual Pining, Couch Sex, Friends to Lovers, Childhood Friends, College/University, Dirty Talk, Let LWJ Say Fuck, lwj FUCKS, Masturbation, Dom/sub Undertones, Pining while fucking, Nipple Play, Nipple Licking, Pining, POV LWJ, Size Kink, Size Difference, Under-negotiated Kink, Feminization, Degradation)

Wei Laoshi, Poonslayer by FeelsForBreakfast (E, 6k, WangXian, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, POV LWJ, straight boy wwx, Loss of Virginity, Getting Together)

i'm the one for your fire by occultings (microcomets) (E, 42k, WangXian, Modern with Magic, Mind Reading, Enemies to Lovers, it's only enemies to lovers in wwx's one braincell, Misunderstandings, Compulsory Heterosexuality, Whump, brief illness/injury, Pining, light bdsm in the first chap, Cherry Magic AU, Getting Together)

the earthquake in the room by phnelt (E, 39k, WangXian, College/University, Modern: No Powers, Canada, Getting Together, Mentions of lwj/others, inter-faculty romance, strangers to lovers to frenemies to lovers, mostly book characterisation)

The Keeper by phnelt (E, 3k, WangXian, PWP, A/B/O Dynamics, Sex Work, virgin wwx, Alpha WWX, Omega LWJ, Dom LWJ, sub wwx, Undernegotiated Kink, BDSM, Ruined Orgasms, a/b/o typical fluid kink, Dom/sub, Non-Traditional A/B/O Dynamics)

thrice as cruel by iliacquer (E, 15k, WIP, WangXian, Switching, Masochist WWX, Sadist LWJ, BDSM, Kushiel's Legacy Fusion, Dubious Consent, Sex Work, Courtesan LWJ, Submissive WWX, Dominant LWJ, Exhibitionism, Public Sex, Consensual Non-Consent)

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11. Hello! First of all, thank you for everyone’s hard work- I love you all!!💖

Second of all, I was wondering if you had any fic recs (or NEW fic recs) with a possessive/jealous/v protective Wei Ying. I love this trope but feel like I’ve read them all 😅 Thank you!

A storm without a warning by Spodumene (E, 22k, wangxian, LWJ/MXY, modern, compulsory heterosexuality, masturbation, eventual smut, pining, denial, drunkeness, jealousy, not actually unrequited love, angst w/ happy ending)

It’s Over Isn’t It by Theladyofravenclaw (T, 68k, WangXian, LWJ/OMC, Oblivious WWX, Jealous WWX, One-Sided Attraction, Canon Divergence, it says Lan Zhan and another character but it’s all one sided, we got a love triangle baby, Canonical Character Death, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort)

Love Song In Reverse by timetoboldlygo (T, 237k, WangXian, Amnesia, Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Falling In Love, Slow Burn, agressively mixing and matching novel and cql canon, No Homophobia, Mentions of Starvation, Parental WWX)

hold up a mirror by spookykingdomstarlight (E, 36k, wangxian, modern, fake/pretend relationship, misundersandings, pining, eventual smut, happy ending, self-discovery, insecurity, dancing, loneliness, friends to lovers)

Orchids in Lotus Pier by Vamillepudding (G, 21k, wangxian, canon divergence, romantic comedy, pining, protective JC, friends to lovers, misunderstandings)

Your Song Called Me, Can’t Believe I am Late by Padma_Warrior (M, 25k, wangxian, WIP, protective wwx, yiling laozu wwx, angst w/ happy ending, not gusu lan friendly, hurt LWJ, bottom LWJ)

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12. For the next itmf, I would really like to read more fics that show canon (or near-canon) events from NHS’s POV. I’m looking for fics where he’s not part of a ship or aren’t specifically tagged ‘Nie Huaisang POV’ or ‘Nie Huaisang-specific’ as I can find those on my own. Thanks so much!

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13. Hello! Happy almost new year! I'm looking for fics where WWX gives his golden core to LWJ instead of JC, thank you!

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14. Hi! I'm looking for something where any member of the cast has chronic illness and either uses cultivation to manage it, or maybe in wwx's case, the loss of his golden core exacerbates, or causes? Bonus points for friends + family members finding out + trying to help (or not lmao). All the best, hope your festive season is going well! @crying--crow​

let the sun go down on your anger; let it burn you to sleep by enbysaurus_rex (Not rated, 78k, wangxian, WQ & WWX, graphic depictions of violence, chronic illness, narcolepsy, chronic pain, YLLZ WWX, oblivious WWX, sleeping beauty elements, body horror, WIP) has WWX suffering from narcolepsy, which the transfer does NOT help.

Instead by apathyinreverie (T, 21k, WIP, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, like self-indulgently so, by way of dark(er) gusu lan, manipulative elders, but in a good way?, Golden Core Reveal, Golden Core Transfer Fix-It, of sorts, not Jiang friendly, not really gusu lan friendly either, not particularly friendly towards anyone really, aside from wangxian of course, Cultivation World Critical, Sunshot Campaign, Fluff, Politics, Courting Rituals, possibly implied mpreg, Genius WWX, Talismans, No demonic cultivation, Possessive LWJ, Protective LWJ) might count

A Burning Cold by MountainRose (G, 29k, Chronic Illness, Pre-Canon, Nirvana in Fire Fusion, Character Study, Wen Bullshit, Suibian, Snow Beetle Poison) Nirvana in Fire fusion with WWX in the position of Mei Changsu

silt, or scurvy series by astronicht (M, 11k, wangxian, modern w/ magic, chronic illness, podfic by raitala)

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15. itmf cisswap wangxian where wwx has big breasts? I've read a lot if lesbian wangxian but i've barely seen ones where wwx has a bigger chest and im curious if there are any i missed.. (sorry this is a bit weird!)

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16. Here's an odd request, but I'd love some fics where LXC is supportive but Deeply Confused about WTH is going on with Wangxian. I recently (re)read "I started from the bottom/and now I'm rich," and LXC's concern that WWX might plan to murder LWJ on their wedding night is hilarious to me. I also loved the fic (forgot the name, sadly) where LXC is extremely straight and thinks LWJ is only with WWX because he's never been with a woman and therefore doesn't realize what he's missing. (Oh, I remember this one, it was hilarious to read ~Mod L) Both these fics are light and play the misunderstanding for laughs. So that's what I want: fics where LXC means well and tries to make LWJ happy, and is hilariously off-base about it. Are there any more other than these two? @invisible-mirror​

The Flautist by oleanderedits (T, 1k, wangxian, double entendre, humor, comedy, canon divergence, LXC pov, sex worker au)

❤️ happy not knowing by plonk (not rated, 16k, wangixan,  canon era, clueless Xichen, established relationship, Mojo’s bookmark) the fic mentioned.

speeding up my heartbeat by plonk (Not Rated, 24k, WangXian, Bottom LWJ, Modern with Magic, Modern AU, Gyms) lxc is very supportive but helplessly straight and therefore clueless

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17. Hello! I’m in the mood for fics where the MDZS characters interact with modern characters. Thank you <3!

take me back to a time by DizziDreams (T, 143k, wangxian, modern w/ magic, college/university au, canon-divergence, time travel, sharing a bed, fish out of water, angst with a happy ending, man out of time, slow burn, character death, angst, reference to abuse, canonical character death, canonical abuse, canon-typical violence, mutual pining, chronic illness, not exactly a fix-it, podfic available, implied 3zun, college student wei wuxian, genius wei wuxian, found family, pov alternating)

Wrong Turn, Right Place by diamondbruise (E, 71k, WangXian, Time Travel, kind of, it’s more reality travel but there’s modern wwx and cultivator lwj, Mutual Pining, Angst with a Happy Ending, Jealousy, Idiots in Love, Slow Burn, Misunderstandings, Cultural Differences)

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If you didn’t get an answer to your ask here, don’t forget to make use of @mdzs-kinkmeme and MDZS KINK MEME on Dreamwidth. Authors actually do use them for ideas. You may get what  you order!***Your prompt doesn’t have to be kink! Fluff, crack,  whatever - it’s all good!***

[abrcmswrld]

Pigeon

Jay | Okja x Reader

━━━━

Word Count: 5,358

Warnings: smut (18+ only MDNI), mentions of animal abuse, violence, slight angst just cause pining ya know

Summary: Reader makes a mistake on a mission, prompting a series of events that would only bring them and Jay closer.

Authors Note: I love Jay with everything in my being, so I had to finish this. It has sat half finished in my drafts since April of 2022. I am delighted to have finished it FINALLY. I hope you enjoy!

Ao3 Link

1.

"You could've been killed!" He is pacing the room, eyes never meeting yours. You've never seen him in this manner, panicked and uneasy. Jay was always the mellow one, the one who kept it together even when punishing members for their ignorance, and yet he has dragged you into the privacy of his bedroom to lecture you frantically.

"Jay, I am fine! Nobody else was hurt and bruises heal." Nervous giggles are slipping out between words. You're torn between the anxiety that comes with his erratic behavior and the urge to laugh in his face at the attitude he is giving you over a matter that otherwise seems minor in comparison to what could have happened. He stops his pacing and sets a fiery gaze onto you. It causes you to stumble over your words for a moment, but quickly fills you with anger at the fact that he was treating you like a helpless child.

"I am not your child. You're being ridiculous!"

"You failed to follow the mission that was planned for you and you got hurt. Your blatant defiance could've gotten yourself or others killed." You can tell he is trying to keep his usual composure and by the book language, but the nerves and anger are slipping through the cracks in his tone.

You scoff. "Jay, I knew what I was signing up for when I joined the group. Things won't always go according to plan."

"You're supposed to follow the mission exactly how we planned that way things are within our control and nobody gets hurt! What don't you understand about that? I mean you do you think that your teammates signed up to get killed because you didn't think the plan was enough? If something more would've happened that would've been on you!" He's red in the face, but you see the pang of regret that washes over his face as the words leave his mouth. His gaze falls to the floor, dark strands of hair falling into his face. He shuts his eyes and sighs. Your heart falls to your stomach.

"You know what, I don't have to sit here and listen to you lecture me. If you want me gone then just tell me that. Dismiss Me. I don't care, Jay."

You nudge his shoulder as you push past him, only to be caught by his hand grabbing your wrist. The flames of anger begin to rise more and you instinctively jerk out of his grip, meeting his eyes once more. They have softened from their harsh gaze moments before. He's turned around and stepped closer to you, practically towering over you. "I don't want you to leave. I'm sorry." He sighs.

"I just care about your safety."

You swallow hard, taking in his words. Vulnerable. For once an encounter with Jay felt vulnerable, and the feeling is addicting. The tension in the room is so tight it feels like it could snap at any moment. You're not sure if its an awkward tension that naturally arises after a typical fight or if it has something to do with the feeling of electricity in your chest that you're trying so damn hard to ignore. His hand lightly lands on the side of your arm, and- fuck- the electricity is starting to burn. Your eyes travel over his face, but quickly move back to his eyes.

"I appreciate that."

You pull away from his grasp and close the door behind you as you walk out.

2.

It had been a tense few days to say the least. Struck by one of those missions that took time, aching long days, for updates. The group scrambled to find distractions from the stress and worry. Red had suggested nightly games of cards to try to take off some of the edge that came with the jobs.

So it became a routine for the coming days. The group would gather around a small table in a cramped living room of the Airbnb that Jay had arranged for everyone to stay in. Jay would join the game for about ten minutes each night, trying to be the strong and relaxed leader for his crew. Yet, each night he would quickly slip away into his room after the first couple of rounds. Tonight he had left the table early on stating that he was tired. You watched as he made his way to his bedroom and shut the door behind him.

Tired. Everyone is tired. You cleared your throat before standing. "Alright guys, I think I'm gonna run to the restroom. Start the next round without me." You walked to the end of the hallway where Jay's door and the bathroom door faced each other. You could see that his door was not fully shut, only cracked, and light still shined through the cracks.

You stepped towards his door, laying a single hand on the knob before hesitating. Maybe you shouldn't.

Was he still mad at you? Would he be even more mad if you had entered his space uninvited? Why did you even feel the urge to enter anyway?

Fuck it. The most he could do was lecture you as he had a few days prior. Or dismiss you from the group. You'd take your chances. Despite your hesitation you push the door open only enough to peek inside. He's facing away from the doorway sitting at a desk. You choose to knock on the doorframe, alerting him of your presence. He quickly turns his chair to see who was there before waving for you to enter.

"Hey." You're stood awkwardly, waiting for a reply from him. He closes the laptop he had been focused on before you entered. "Hi. Do you need something?" You shift your weight from one foot to the other. "No. I just- Uh, you just said you were tired, but you're not in bed." You internally scold yourself for stumbling on your words so terribly. He cocks his head in confusion.

"I know it's been a rough week. I guess I shouldn't really question why you're not in bed. It's been pretty hard for me to sleep too." You're not lying. You'd laid in bed every night wishing, praying to a god you weren't even sure you believed in, that you could just get a night of good sleep. Your prayers hadn't been answered. He simply nods. Suddenly the air is thick and uncomfortable. It seems like he is just waiting for you to leave. Maybe you should. Why haven't you?

"Are you still pissed at me?"

He sighs and stands from his chair. "No." Then he's closing the distance between the two of you. Your heart is racing. But he simply reaches behind you. "Do you mind if I-" You realize he is trying to shut the door that you had left ajar. "Oh! Yeah. Sorry." Your face is burning. There's no doubt he can see the way the blood has rushed to your face. You shift to the side slightly, allowing him access to the door. "I just don't like for the others to hear these sorts of conversations if I can help it." You shyly nod. He gives a small smile and you feel the way the gesture makes your body feel loosened.

"I'm sorry for the way that I acted a couple of days ago. I shouldn't have let myself get that worked up. It's my responsibility as a leader to keep it together for you guys and I failed that night." It feels good to hear the apology from him. Sure your feelings were hurt. Hurt in the same way it hurts for a parental figure to point out that they are disappointed, not mad. But deep down you knew he meant well, and it felt wrong to leave him to be the only one apologizing. "I'm sorry too. It's also your job as a leader to hold us accountable, so I understand. I didn't mean to act stupid." He smiles. "I suppose there's no way of taking it back for either of us now, so lets call it even." It makes you chuckle. "Thanks."

An awkward silence fills the room before you speak up. "How are you holding up? I mean- It's just been pretty rough for everyone I guess." He places a hand on your shoulder. "I am holding up, and I don't want you up worrying about me. You should get some rest, or at least attempt to have a good time with the others out there." You shook your head. "Cards aren't really my thing. And sleeping hasn't been that great lately either." You meet his slightly concerned gaze. "Talking to you kind of sounds like the best option for me here." You chuckle and shake your head, immediately embarrassed at the words that had just come out of your mouth. Why did you just say that? It must be obvious as he tips your head back up to face him with two fingers under your chin. "It's okay. We can talk." Damn it. That spark in your chest is back.

He is leaning over you so close. Though the fingers have left their place under your chin, you feel your skin burn where they once were. You can smell his cologne so strongly when you're this close. You never really noticed before, then again you kept your distance on purpose. He's your superior. You probably shouldn't be doing this. You can't help but embrace him.

Your face is pressed into his chest. His arms hesitate for a moment before finding their place on your back. The feeling you get is so bittersweet. You've never properly hugged Jay, and you doubt any of the others had either. He's naturally reserved person. In this moment you want nothing more than to peel back his layers. To know what he thinks when he's alone with his thoughts. To know what he thinks when he's alone with you.

You pull away from his embrace, but keep your body pressed close to his. You meet his gaze. He staring down at you, quiet. Neither of you say a word. Your hands have found their way to the back of his neck, twiddling the hairs that curl onto it. Your lips are so close. You can feel his breath on your face. Every part of your brain is yelling at you to stop the interaction. Jay would for sure call it inappropriate. But you found yourself listening to the burning in your heart and stomach as you close the gap between your lips.

It's chaste. You pull back slowly looking at his expression to gage what should happen next. His eyes are half lidded and his mouth sits slightly agape. You feel a sort of fear settle in the pit of your stomach as he does and says nothing. Had you crossed a line that never should've been crossed? But you're swiftly pulled out of the fog of worry by his lips meeting yours once again. He's pressing you closer with a hand on the middle of your back.

You feel like you’re high. Something about the swipe of his tongue across yours is incredibly intoxicating. He tastes oddly sweet. You can't help but feel the urge to taste other parts of him. Suddenly he's walking you backwards until the backs of your legs hit the desk he was previously sat at. It's effortless as he hoists you to sit atop the surface of the desk. He pulls away long enough to meet your eyes. You've seen his eyes when he is relaxed and soft. You've also seen his eyes when he is angry and provoked, but this look is new. It only lasts a split second, but you can see the lust practically dripping from his eyes. It's almost like looking at a wild, hungry animal, starved for food so long that they are willing to do anything for it. It makes the blood pool into your lower half.

The feeling of his teeth grazing your neck is enough to knock a pitiful moan from your throat. You've thrown your head back, hoping to give him more access. You can't help but tangle your fingers into his dark locks, occasionally pulling to hear a low groan from him. His fingers are slowly traveling up your thighs and you're getting antsy. You're so caught up, the only thing on your mind is Jay and the word 'more.' God you need more more more. His hand slides up your thigh and you're a goner when the heel of his palm digs into your core. Your mouth is pressed just next to his ear. You must sound pathetic as you whine his name.

The sound of footsteps down the hall pulls the two of you from the haze. Jay's hands are off of you in a flash as he jumps back, putting significant space between the two of you. You're both practically panting. The only sound in the room is your breathing. The footsteps must have led to the bathroom across the hall, as Jay's room is left unbothered. He runs a hand through his hair and lets out a sigh of exasperation. "Um... I'm sorry. That was..." You trail off.

You hop off the desk and walk past him, laying a hand on the doorknob.

"I'll see you tomorrow."

You walk out of his room and straight to your own. Red eyes you as you walk quickly past the card table. You're sure you'd hear about it later. You immediately shut the door behind you and take a seat on the floor in front of it.

What the hell are you supposed to do now?

3.

Just as you expected, Red is curious the next day.

"Are you okay?"

You're finding it hard to focus on anything. Which is never good in times like the present. You had a job to do and Jay was your leader. It was an inappropriate situation, but what bugged you the most was how seemingly focused and normal Jay had been acting. You turn your attention to Red. "I'm fine. Just watched a video of kitten being used as dog fight bait the other night, how could I not be?" She rolls her eyes. "You never came back last night, and then when you did you looked spooked."

You sigh. Geez...were you that obvious? "I had to talk to Jay about the mission situation, and it's just not particularly easy to talk to him. You know that." She hesitates for a moment as if thinking of what to say. "But you're okay? I'm not gonna have to watch him beat you up too?" You can't help but laugh a little at her comment. K certainly wouldn't approve, but what he didn't know wouldn't kill him. "Everything is fine, Red."

You only lied a little. But it's not like she's never lied to you. Your gaze falls to Jay for a moment. He's dressed more casual than usual, slacks and a white t-shirt. It's nice to see him relaxed.

He's explaining something to Blonde. Something about pinpointing a location. He's pointing out something on paper, maybe a map. As if it's some sick intrusive thought, you think about where his hands had been the previous night. You can still feel the burn of his hand making its way up your thigh. He starts to look up at you. You quickly pull your eyes off of him and turn to busy yourself with something, anything. You're fucked.

4.

You find yourself at Jay's door once again. Blonde had successfully got an update from an insider about the dog fighting ring the group had been watching. The group was set to deploy a rescue mission in the coming days. Who knows what could happen? Ideally everything goes exactly according to the plan. Some animals are rescued, the entire crew makes it out, and nobody is seriously injured. But it's your first mission after the incident that caused Jay's initial lecture, and you've found yourself a little nervous to be back in action.

You weren't getting any sleep at the moment. You'd all gone to bed early in hopes of being well rested, but instead you had laid in bed for a little over an hour with no sign of sleep in the near future. So you made your way to Jay. You'd be lying if you said that he had nothing to do with the reason you were losing sleep. The thought of his lips on yours is sweet but startling. You knock on his door before entering.

For once Jay is sitting in bed. He's awake. You knew he would be, because you know Jay. Even as he keeps his distance from everyone, you catch yourself picking up on his quirks over time. He's changed out of his slacks and now sports some tattered pajama pants. It's different and cute. You slowly shut the door behind you.

"Can't sleep?"

You take a seat on the edge of the bed. "I guess you could say the nerves are getting to me." He hesitates for a second. "But I am supposed to step up as your leader and encourage you. Everything will be fine. We have tackled much bigger things." You sigh. You hated knowing that you're the one causing the nerves tonight. It's never easy getting back into the swing of things after a failed mission, but being the one who caused the failure feels even worse. He's doing what he always does. He's putting his job above how he really feels, he never lets himself feel anything. If he's nervous he will tell the group that he's never been more confident. But you knew better.

"You don't always have to hide the way that you feel. It's okay to be nervous, Jay."

You lay a hand on his arm, much like he had done to you when he apologized for his anger. He's being distant. He almost looks worried to have your hand on his arm. You slowly withdraw. Maybe it was time to pretend about your own feelings. Hypocrite.

"You know- if you're feeling weird about the kiss it's okay. It was my choice and I'm sorry. It was probably way out of line-" He cuts you off. "It was." Although his tone isn't harsh, his words still sting. So he really had regretted it. You stepped over the line. Sure he participated but if you hadn't have started it-

"But I feel good when I think about it."

You can't stop staring at him. Frozen. "What?" He shrugs. "It felt good not to have to be Jay the leader and just be Jay. To do stuff I wanted to do without having to think about the consequences." The words light a small fire inside you for some reason. This is the most honest Jay has ever been with you. It's raw and it's nice. "I'm glad I could help... ease your mind."

He smiles softly and lays a hand on your lower leg that you've pulled up onto the bed. "I'm really nervous about tomorrow, Jay. I know you just said it was nice to not be a leader but I have to let you know I feel uneasy. I don't even know if I'm saying that because I'm looking for advice-" You look up at him. "-I think I just feel oddly comforted by your presence."

He scoots closer to you, legs crossed like a child. You can't help but smile. It's so unlike Jay. Jay was serious, classy, guarded. This side of Jay was open and comforting. He grabs your hand, seemingly in an effort to bring you some sense of feeling grounded. "It will work out. I promise."

There's more to be said. The fear in you rises as you face him. His hair is slightly disheveled. It reminds you of the way it looked after you had jumped apart. Messy from your fingers. Your heart is beating so fast. Why did you want to kiss him so bad? Why did he kiss you back? Did he pity you? Would these feelings ruin the mission? Would these feelings ruin your friendship with Jay? Would these feelings ruin you?

You brush a strand of hair off his forehead and sigh. "I think I am afraid of myself. Of this. I don't regret the kiss and, damn it, I think I want to kiss you again, Jay. And that makes me so scared-" You're stunned by two hands cupping the sides of your face. You can only stare, mouth open a bit in shock. He only stares back, not making a move, as if he tossing thoughts around in his head, weighing his options.

His lips are warm and familiar against yours. The butterflies in your stomach almost make you feel sick, but you compose yourself enough to put one hand on his face and one hand on his shoulder. It doesn't feel like it did that previous night. That night had been pure fire and burning lust. The fire has turned into something blossoming in your stomach and up into your lungs. He pulls away, smiling genuinely. "You can stay in here tonight if it'll calm your nerves. We can talk more when we finish what needs to be done."

5.

The ride in the truck to your destination was tense. You look out the window to see nothing by gravel road and trees. Much to Blonde’s dismay you had questioned whether he had the right location at least 5 times, all of which he had responded with a short “I know what I’m doing, Sweetheart.” You rolled your eyes.

You can’t stop the constant bouncing of your leg. You have to do anything to fill the void where your thoughts could leak in. It made you physically ill to think anymore about the possibilities of what could happen in the next hour. You can see Jay in the front seat next to K, who was driving. The sunlight bounced through the trees and hit his face perfectly. Thinking about the night before was the only thing bringing you any peace at all in your current situation.

His body pressed up against yours. Arm swung over your waist. You had actually gotten some decent sleep. It is still dark in the room, obviously still a few hours out from when you need to be up. You twist your body to face Jay. He’s still asleep, face peacefully relaxed. No furrowed brows or wrinkled skin. He is perfect you think as you brush his hair hair back lightly.

“This is it.” You’re pulled from the memory by Blonde’s voice. As the doors open, there’s…nothing. Just the same trees and dirt road as there was before. “Are you sure this is it? There’s nothing here.” Red questions as soon as her feet hit the dirt ground. “We’ve gotta go through the trees a little ways that way, but we have to stop the truck here or they’ll know we are on ‘em.” Blonde points a finger out into the vast woods.

You lock eyes with Jay. He just nods and steps in front of the group with Blonde as a guide. The woods are damp and humid. It’s not a pleasant trek, but you had definitely experienced worse in your year on the team. It’s quiet, eerily quiet. Just the rustling of your feet against the grass. Until you see it. The barbed wire fence is clear in the distance. You can hear the barking dogs and rustling chain. Jay stops and turns to the group.

“These dogs are trained to fight through drugs and other means. They can be dangerous. Just be careful and follow the plan.”

Your heart hurts at his words as they are a reminder of your fuck up but you don’t have time to dwell on it much as you hear the rustling of grass not far from you and see the flash of a human figure to your left. Fuck. It’s only two men, but they are very clearly armed with deadly weapons. Jay turns to face them, bold and brave as always. “Listen, we are-“

“We don’t care who you are, you’re trespassing.”

Jay stays silent only for a moment, holding his hands out in front of him in a sign of peace, before speaking softly, “Red, go.” And with that Red is zipping past the men and jumping the fence. Blonde and Silver are easily able to take down one of the men, leaving the other to go for Jay who is standing directly in front of him. You can feel the adrenaline pumping through your veins as Jay is knocked to the ground. You hesitate before deciding to engage.

Don’t fuck this up. Don’t fuck this up. Don’t fuck this up.

You’re able to the man off guard for only a split second before the man throws his elbow back. And suddenly everything is black.

There’s a slight ringing in your ears the next time you open your eyes, but you can tell that someone is carrying you. You let yourself slip out of consciousness once more.

“Can you hear me? Open your eyes!”

You can hear the voice before you open your eyes, and suddenly you’re taken back to New York.

Your heart is beating out of your chest. You’re watching from the van as Jay is ambushed by the Black Chalk. You’re trying not to hyperventilate and pass out. Of all the missions that have ended with law enforcement intervention, you have never seen one end this poorly.

Jay is knocked to the ground and you can see the little bits of blood seeping through his white shirt and dripping from his head. They are unrelenting, like a hoard of crows circling and gathering around a dead animal. You try to shake that thought from your head.

“K… K! We have to do something! We have to do something right now, they are gonna kill him!”

And for a moment it feels like you’ve blacked out, but you can remember what you are doing. You’ve just placed your self on autopilot. You’ve tuned out everyone as soon as Jay’s back hit the floor of the truck’s trailer. You’re climbing over him and immediately work at the buttons on his soiled shirt. You don’t even realize that there are tears flowing from your eyes until you start to see the small damp spots begin to leave marks next to the blood that has already stained.

You cradle his head, not caring about the blood that is seeping under your fingernails. “Jay, can you look at me?” His eyes are still closed but you swear you can see a small flutter of his lashes. “Can you hear me? Please open your eyes.” His eyes slowly peel open. He’s looking directly at you and you’ve never felt more relief in your entire life. You gently lay your forehead on his chest.

“Thank God.”

You open your eyes. You can tell you’re in the back of the van. You practically shoot up and that’s when the pain sets in. You hold the side of your head. “Ah shit.”

“You can lay back down.” You turn your head to see Jay at your side. He’s got a scrape on his cheek, but otherwise looks to be intact. You sigh. “Are you okay?” He smiles and nods. You don’t lay down, but turn to face him fully. “Did I fuck it up again?” He places a hand on your shoulder and shakes his head.

“Red got the evidence we needed, and everyone made it out. You got hit pretty hard. You probably have a concussion, so I’ll be be staying with you these next couple of nights.”

You immediately glance forwards at Red who is raising an eyebrow from the front seat. Your cheeks burn as you lay your head back in Jay’s lap for the remainder of the ride home.

6.

Jay does as he said he would and stays with you in the nights. You’ve slept in his bed for the past four nights. Though you realize that it has probably been long enough that you could move back into your room, you don’t want to stop. Jay’s warmth at night has you sleeping better than you have in years. So here you are on your fifth night in Jay’s bed, watching as he strips down to his boxers and climbs into bed with you. It’s starting to feel very domestic the way he bares his skin to you even though you’ve never actually had sex. It still brings a flutter to your abdomen. But in a way you start to feel like you’re taking advantage of him.

“You don’t have to take care of me anymore. I think I’ll be fine on my own.”

He looks at you for a moment, slightly concerned. “Have I made you uncomfortable?” You shake your head. “No, it’s not that, I just feel like I’m taking advantage of you.” He smiles and places a hand on your jaw. “I enjoy your company. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t got used to you being here every night.” He kisses you for the first time since the night before you’d gotten hurt, and you immediately melt into it. You missed the feeling it gives you. He breaks apart from you just to say, “Why don’t you just stay with me all of the time?” It lights a fire in your stomach.

Before you can stop to think, you are moving to straddle his hips. He gasps slightly, you’ve always been the inferior, he’s always been the one in charge, but you’re the one towering over him now. “I want you.” You can feel the way that his hip buck slightly at your words. “And I’m not just talking about sex. I’m talking about everyday, all of the time.” He just stares up at you, letting you speak.

“You can be the boss during the day, but I want you to come home and just be you at the end of the day.” You roll your hips. “Not Jay the leader or boss or organizer or anything like that. Just Jay.” He looks in absolute awe, a look you’ve never seen from him. For once, he has nothing to say, just slips a hand past your waistband and applies delicious pressure to your core. You swallow the moan that forms in your throat. The last thing you need is to have Red or Silver prying into your sex life in the morning, especially when Jay is involved.

“And if I wanna be the boss at night?” He says it teasingly, and you can’t help but giggle.

“Okay fine, but only sometimes.” You wrap a hand around him under his boxers and he groans. It feels good to be this intimate with someone, especially Jay. So you let yourself go, match his pace, and don’t stop until you’re both soaring over the edge, foreheads pressed together.

You take time to clean each other up and get comfortable back in bed before anyone can ask any questions about what you may have been doing. You lay your head on his chest. You’re so relaxed and everything feels so right for once in your life.

“I thought I was gonna lose you in New York.” It’s random, but the entire experience in the past week sent you soaring back into that headspace. “K probably thought I was crazy or hysterical. I’d never seen you so hurt, and I thought that was it. I think that’s when I knew.” He hugs you closer and presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“I remember you holding the back of my head, I thought that I was dead. I don’t even really know what I believe happens after death, I guess I was just relieved that wherever I was at the time, you were there.”

You smile, content, and throw an arm over his waist.

“Glad we both made it.”

[takamimami]

Perfectly Misaligned

Chapter 4 - The Point of No Return

Previous Chapter | Masterlist

Pairing: Eustass "Captain" Kidd x OC (Morrigan, The Phantom)

Chapter Tracklist:

Nobody’s Home - Avril Lavigne

Glitter in the Air - P!NK

Swimming Home - Evanescence

CW: minor depictions of violence, references to Morrigan's childhood trauma, minor character death, suggestive conversation about Mor's v-card, Kidd being Kidd --- word count: 3.6k

NSFW; Explicit Language/Themes - MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI

A cool breeze blew my hair forward and into my face, obscuring my vision for a moment as I stared up into the starlit sky. My eyes were puffy and swollen from the crying I’d done, still trying to process the flurry of emotions inside me as I felt the familiar burning of tears sting them again. 

I’d found my way up onto the roof of the cabin, needing time and space to myself after my interrogation from Kidd earlier. 

I’d expected him to refuse to let me come with them to the New World - Kidd didn’t like being told what to do, and, unfortunately for me, I seemed to rub him the wrong way just by breathing. But I’d expected Killer to be able to convince him like he usually did, and hearing the way he argued with Killer inside the room earlier—I wasn’t too sure he could be persuaded otherwise.

Definitely not tonight, which is why I secluded myself on the roof, a blanket wrapped around my shoulder and a candle between my legs—the flames dancing in the breeze as the candle threatened to go out altogether.

I closed my eyes as the breeze picked up again, and let my mind wander back to the place I’d called home just short of a year ago. 

~

A chill ran up my spine as I stood in the center of the crowded room, everyone’s eyes focused on my little sister, Celeste, as she opened presents for what would have been her 16th birthday.

Everyone was gathered in the entertainment hall of the palace, the place that once housed pictures of all four members of our family now missing one face amongst the frames. No one’s eyes faltered as I walked over to the banister where my sister’s portrait hung, my matching one missing and the pictures shifted around as if it had never been there at all.

All trace of me gone from the place I’d once called home, the ghost of me lingering as I watched my father and stepmother’s faces light up as my sister held up a ruby necklace she’d pulled from the gift bag. 

I dragged my feet as I walked to the center of the room again, blinking once as the room fell silent– all previous occupants vanished and the room lights dimmed. 

I twirled my head around to find myself alone in the hall, my eyes darting around the room until they landed on a frail body standing a few feet away from me, her face covered in shadows as she faced me.

My knees nearly buckle as I look my mother up and down, lip quivering as I struggle to find my voice to call out to her. I reach out my hand and open my mouth when a gunshot rings out through the empty room, my mother’s body slumping to the floor as blood begins to pool around her. 

My throat constricts as I try to scream, but no sound comes out. Tears blur my vision as I will my legs to carry me forward, but as I approach my mother’s body I’m halted with fear as my father stands over her lifeless body, eyes piercing into mine as he stares me down– my mouth growing dry as I feel a hand grab my shoulder.

“Hey…”

~

“Hey! Squeak! Snap out of it!”

I rubbed my eyes roughly with the backs of my hands as I felt Killer’s tight grip on my shoulders, blinking away tears as I came back to reality.

Tendrils of dark shadows swirled in the air around both of us, some of them swirling around his arms as they gripped my shoulders and caused me to pull away from him. I scooted along the roof as I created some distance between us, forcing my shadows to vanish as I tried to center my breathing.

“D-did that hurt?” I stuttered after a few moments of silence, my eyes trained on his forearms where I had seen the shadows dancing over his skin.

“I’ve been through worse,” he admits, rubbing a hand over his arm as he scoots closer to me. “Are you okay?”

Instead of answering I reached for the blanket still wrapped around my shoulders, turning my gaze down to the candle that must have tipped over at some point during my nightmare, luckily not set the entire roof on fire. I breathed a sigh of relief as I shifted toward it, picking at the dried wax that had spilled onto the roof tiles as flashes of my dreams crept back into my mind.

I let the silence answer for me as Killer kept his gaze in my direction, pulling my gaze from the flakes of dried wax and peering into the night sky. Stars scattered across the vast expanse of darkness, twinkling in the moonlight as if someone took a fist full of glitter and launched it into the air.

“You spoke of the angels and archangels earlier,” I started, desperate for something to distract me from the face of my mother plaguing my mind. “I thought all angels were supposed to be ‘good’... why would any of them have powers like mine?”

Killer shifts closer to me, eyes still locked on me as he speaks. 

“Archangels were the more powerful of their kind, and were usually responsible for maintaining the balance between good and evil - meaning they often mastered the powers of both.”

I nodded as I processed the information, finding myself impressed by Killer’s seemingly endless knowledge. 

I turn my head and meet his gaze, a small smile curling up on my lips as I shift closer to him. “Fucking nerd,” I say teasingly, giggling lightly as I look back up towards the stars. 

“Maybe there is hope for me, then.” 

I lift my hand and stare at it for a moment, feeling the power surging just below my skin. I let out a deep breath and let the darkness swirling inside me manifest itself in the air between Killer and me. 

We both watch the tendrils swirl and snake through the air and along the roof tiles, Killer not flinching as the shadows wrap around his forearm. I drop my hand and the shadows dissipate, but Killer flicks his head back to me as they disappear.

“Do it again.”

I eye him wearily, his request making the hair on my arms stand as I imagine the soldiers I’d incapacitated. But I lifted my hand again, the tendrils dancing over to him again, this time snaking further up his arm as I watched him cautiously.

My pulse roared in my veins as I watched Killer’s arm tense as if he were actively fighting against the darkness trying to consume him. I hear him let out a grunt as he imbues his arm with his Armament Haki, his shoulders relaxing slightly once he is able to successfully shield his skin from my shadows.

I drop my hand a moment later, breathing slightly labored from the exertion, my eyes still trained on Killer’s arm as he drops his defenses.

“What does it feel like?” I ask quietly, my curiosity getting the better of me.

Killer flexes his hand, then his elbow, and I watch the rippling muscles contract as he ponders how to respond.

“It felt like something was sucking up my strength, preventing me from fully exerting my Haki,” he starts, chuckling a bit as he rolls his shoulder. “I’d hate to see what you could do to someone with better control over those things.”

I grimaced at the comment, but before I could reply something pulled my attention to the trees in the distance. My head snaps in that direction, and Killer shifts as he sees my body tense from the disturbance.

“Wha-”

“Someone’s coming,” I cut him off, my eyes still locked on the trees. Killer seemed to sense the same presence a heartbeat later, but I had already turned and began climbing back up the roof and into the window I’d climbed out of previously. 

Once inside, I shuffled through the dark room in search of the light switch, feeling along the wall until I found it and flicked on the lights.

A groan startled me, the body sleeping in the bed shifting as the muscled frame sat up in the bed, tousled red hair covering his face as he rubbed at his eyes.

“The fuck are you doing?!”

Kidd’s voice echoes off the walls, a scowl immediately forming on my face as he looks over me.

“Someone is coming,” I said flatly as Killer climbed in through the window. Kidd’s brow furrowed as he looked between the two of us.

“It’s Hawkins,” Killer says calmly, and Kidd rolls his eyes as he pulls the blankets off himself and shuffles off the bed. My eyes trace over his toned body, watching his muscles ripple and flex as he tugs on his pants and lets them hang loosely on his hips. 

Kidd’s head flicks in my direction, a smirk flicking onto his lips as he catches where my stare is lingering. I feel heat prickling at my cheeks as I shift my gaze over to Killer, and Kidd mirrors my movements as Killer crosses the room and grabs for the door. 

I take a step to follow him through it and feel a tug at my arm, looking back to see Kidd’s hand wrapped around my wrist.

“Stay here,” he commands, pulling me back into the room as he pushes past me and out into the hallway. 

“No,” I bite back sharply, shoulders straightening as I resume my stride and follow him out into the hallway. 

He brings a hand to rub at his temples as he turns to face me, sticking an arm out to stop me from pushing past him.

“I said,” he glares, eyes dimming a shade, “ Stay here. ”

His touch is firm as I press against his arm, eyes staring up into him defiantly as I try to press past him. His arm tenses as I try to take another step, grunting as he pushes against me and causes my step to falter. 

“For someone who wants to join my crew, you sure don’t know how to listen to fucking orders,” he grumbles, turning to walk further down the hall. 

“I didn’t ask to join your crew,” I snap back, following a few strides behind him, “I asked you to take me to the New World, not to be my captain.”

Kidd stills at my words, his hand squeezing the railing of the stairs as he turns to glare at me from over his shoulder.

Killer glances in our direction from the bottom of the stairs, sensing the tension as his eyes move between the two of us.

I stop just out of arm's length from Kidd, not faltering as he turns to face me again. Eyes closed and brows bunched in frustration, he lets out a deep sigh before glancing my way, a glimmer of something in his eyes I couldn’t quite place.

“ Fine, ” he said exasperatedly, shoulders slumping slightly as he took a step closer to me. “I will consider taking you with us, Morrigan, if you just listen to me this one fucking time.”

I shuddered as my name fell from his lips, loosening my fists that I hadn’t realized were balled at my sides. His brows were still knit together as he watched my tension lessen, a weary gaze cast his way as I wondered why he was so insistent on my absence from this conversation.

“Fine,” I breathed, and both Kidd and Killer sighed in unison as a knock on the door drew the attention of all three of us. Kidd hurriedly glided down the stairs, casting me a warning glance as he reached the bottom. 

I turned and made my way back to the room, lingering in the doorway as the front door creaked open and unfamiliar voices mixed with those of Kidd and Killer’s briefly before the door shut.

Just as I was shifting on my feet I heard a door from down the hall swing open, and I peeked my head back out to see two tall figures sauntering down the hall toward me.

“I knew we heard your voice,” one of them crooned, and I couldn’t help the smile that curled onto my lips as Wire and Heat stepped out from the shadows of the hall, the latter’s arms outstretched toward me as I gladly let him pull me into an embrace.

The faint smell of ash tickles my nose as I smile into the warm hug, Wire staring at me blankly as I pull away from Heat and lean in his direction. He barely moves as I pull him into a side hug, and Heat leans over the railing of the staircase as he looks for whom I assume are Killer and Kidd. 

“We were trying to figure out who the Boss was arguing with,” he muses, cracking a smile as he nods in my direction, “Now it makes sense”.

“We were not arguing,” I said stubbornly, recalling the way Kidd’s eyes had softened when he made his bargain with me. It almost seemed like there was concern hidden behind them – his amber eyes flashing into my mind as I tried to understand the sudden shift in his emotion.

“Of course, you weren’t,” Wire cuts in, tone unamused as he pulls me from my recollection, “You and the Boss are always so agreeable ”.

The dry sarcasm in his voice didn’t go unnoticed by Heat or me, and I rolled my eyes as I switched my attention back to Heat.

“It’s good to see you guys,” I smile warmly, the tall man before me grinning as he extends a hand out to rest on my shoulder.

“It’s good to see you too, Mor,” he sighs, “Though, I have to admit, I didn’t think our paths would ever cross again.”

I grimaced at the notion, Heat’s hand dropping from my shoulder as he offered me a sympathetic look.

“It’s…. A long story,” I groan, running my fingers through my hair as I puff out a deep sigh. 

I turned my head and gazed down the stairs, not ready to hash out the details with them quite yet. They both take the hint and shuffle past me, descending the staircase without another word.

Before they can reach the bottom the sound of the front door swinging open halts them, and the sudden slam of the door has me gripping the railing as Kidd stomps back into the cabin, a scowl etched on his face as he turns the corner to find Heat and Wire looking at him from the steps.

“What’s up, Boss?” Wire asks, though his face is emotionless as he looks over his captain.

Kidd grunts, disappearing into the kitchen without another glance in any of our directions. Killer sighs a deep breath before walking after Kidd, motioning for Wire and Heat to follow.

My curiosity had me halfway down the stairs before the kitchen door closed, and without considering Kidd’s previous hesitations I pulled open the handle to find Kidd throwing back a bottle of booze.

Killer snaps his neck over to me while Heat and Wire keep their eyes on Kidd, and something about Killer’s body language has me lingering in the doorway.

Sure enough, Kidd’s gaze lands on me as he brings the bottle from his lips, and his brows furrow, looking me up and down and setting the bottle on the table before stepping toward me.

“What did Hawkins want?” Heat asks insistently, but Kidd continues approaching me, only stopping once he is towering over me. His arm extended out and held the door I still propped open with my foot, and his eyes flick through the doorway before falling back down to me.

“I got business to discuss with my crew,” he grumbles, leaning closer to me as if to usher me out of the kitchen.

“What the hell is so important that you can’t tell them with me present?” I press, holding my ground and not backing away from my position in the doorway.

Kidd’s eye twitches – a movement that I almost miss – and he braces his arm on the door harder before leaning down closer to me, the smell of whiskey coating his breath as his breath tickles my face.

“I don’t discuss anything pertaining to my crew with outsiders ,” he nearly growls, as if the term were supposed to be an insult. “Last time I checked, you didn’t want any part of my crew, so how about you run along and get some sleep, Princess.”

The command in his tone nearly made my knees wobble, and I kissed my teeth before turning around, no longer interested in playing this game with him.

I make my way back up to the room, stomping my feet up the stairs dramatically before slamming the door hard enough for everyone in the cabin to hear. My heartbeat was pounding in my ears as I sank into the mattress, trying to tune out Kidd’s voice that now rang through my head.

“ So how about you run along and get some sleep, Princess.”

“Princess.”

The condescension in his tone alone as he spat that nickname at me was enough to set my blood on fire. 

Forcing my eyes shut, I try to shove the insufferable redhead to the back of my mind, but it only serves the opposite purpose as my mind races.

~

Kidd’s arms rested on the railing on either side of me, his neck craned to look down at me as I felt my chest tighten from his proximity.

“C’mon, Princess ,” he crooned, the gods forsake nickname dripping with honey as he brought his lips closer to mine, “We both know that kiss wasn’t the accident you claimed it to be.”

He and I had been drunk the night prior, the rest of the crew already retired to their respective quarters as he listened to me prattle on and on about stars and constellations. When I was done he’d walked across the deck with me toward one of the spare rooms beneath the helm, and in a drunken haze, I’d decided it would be a good idea to kiss the moron after he’d offered me one too many flirtatious compliments.

“Kidd,” I groaned, pushing a hand against his chest half-heartedly, “I was drunk and so were you, let's not make this a bigger deal than it needs to be.”

He snickers at my claim, allowing me to push him away as he backs up a few steps. He eyes me up and down before tucking a hand in his pocket, the other hand reaching up to rub at his chin.

“You a virgin, Princess?”

My cheeks heated at the question, my silence damning me as my lips tremble.

Kidd nods his head, smirking as he tucks his other hand into his pocket and takes a step closer to me. I feel my shoulders sag under his gaze, my back pressing against the railing as he resumes his previous position.

“I’d be gentle with you,” he rasped, voice thick as he dropped his head to my ear. “To start with, at least.”

“Are you still drunk?” I manage to whisper, feeling his arm snake around my waist and pulling my body closer to his.

He must have heard my breath catch in my throat because I can hear his smirk in his next words.

“It wasn’t the alcohol talking for me, Princess. I’ve thought about getting you in my bed since the first time you called me a ‘filthy pirate’.”

‘I’m no one’s plaything, you filthy pirate.’ The first words I’d ever spoken to him.

He had to still be drunk, it was the only explanation for why he was telling me all this. 

I felt my self-consciousness drawing up my defenses as I raised a shaky hand to his chest, pushing harder than I had the first time as I tried desperately to make space between us.

“Enough, Kidd,” I snarl, taking a step back before bearing my teeth to him, “I said it was a mistake .”

That wasn’t the word I’d originally used. ‘Accident’ – that was the word I’d meant, but I lashed out and noted the slight shift in Kidd’s expression, indicating I’d hit my mark.

~

My eyes open and struggle to adjust to the darkness in the room as the sound of voices outside my room pulls me from my sleep. Careful not to make a sound, I slip from the bed and make my way over to the door, leaning my head against it to hear the voices on the other end.

“Just let her sleep, Kidd.”

Killer. 

“Here you go telling me what to do again.” Kidd. “I just want to ask her why she wants to come with us so bad. We’re not a fucking escort service, Kill.”

“That can wait for the morning when you’re sober .”

A disgruntled noise comes from the other end of the door and I hear the doorhandle jiggle. I hold in my sigh of relief at the fact I had remembered to lock it, my pupils dilating as they watch the metal object shake.

Giving up after a few failed shakes, I hear Kidd and Killer’s footsteps disappear down the hall, and I silently creep back into the bed at the sound of a door closing.

I toss and turn for a bit as I contemplate what exactly I’m going to tell Kidd when he questions me come the morning, coming to the conclusion that I didn’t even know myself why I wanted to go with them.

Something just told me I needed to stay with them.

Next Chapter (Coming Soon)

if you liked this, I would love it if you liked and reblogged to spread the love <3 ✨come say hai :3✨

[thenationaltreasuregazette]

To the editor,

@emmi-kat said it first, but i humbly submit a second vote for a post-Book of Secrets injuries post? The post-Cibola angst possibilities are unmatched.

As always, love your work!

Injuries in Book of Secrets

By popular demand, injuries in National Treasure: Book of Secrets!

@emmi-kat @arsenicalbronze Thank you for the request and your patience!

I’ll be honest, I’ve been avoiding some of the BoS questions you lovely folks have sent because it’s just…not my favorite. Certainly not in the way that the first National Treasure is.

Like it’s fine. I almost always watch BoS after I watch National Treasure and I have a good time watching it. It’s an okay movie. There are a lot of individual sequences that I like. I like the Buckingham Palace nonsense. I like kidnapping the President. I actually like most of them!

But as a whole, it just doesn’t do it for me. Every time I watch National Treasure I get a little more enchanted by the whole thing. Every time I watch Book of Secrets I get more disillusioned.

Imo, Book of Secrets works as a movie, but it fails as a sequel.

But that is not this! Let’s talk about injuries.

Hypothermia, falling rocks, danger vs peril and more under the cut!

Something that stands out to me about Book of Secrets is that the characters are in danger a lot, but they aren’t really in peril as much as in the first movie.

As I'll be using them here:

Danger - bodily harm is possible, but not inevitable. The threat is one step away. Peril — bodily harm is basically inevitable; the treat is here.

Robbing the Archives is dangerous. Ben could get caught, shot, tased, or arrested at any point.

Rescuing Abigail from the catering truck is perilous. Injury is all but inevitable.

Since everyone is on more-or-less the same trajectory in this film, I’ll go by sequence rather than by character.

ACT 1

Setup: Reveal of the Page

No injuries here except hurt pride and maybe a paper cut.

Likewise with breaking into Abigail’s house and looking at the page under infrared at the Archives.

Danger: 0/5 Peril: 0/5

Debate: Cracking the Cypher

The first whiff of danger, I would argue, is when Abigail meets Mitch for a drink. We know he’s the bad guy, but she doesn’t. She can sense there’s something shady about him, but I don’t think she guesses that he’s willing to use violence to get what he wants, otherwise I don’t think she’d meet him alone. She did experience Ian, after all.

Danger: 2/5 Peril: 0/5

ACT 2

Paris

Ben and Riley do get stopped by the police here, but they’re in danger of a ticket (or, I supposed I should say, they’re in peril of a ticket, because Riley does get one lol). Nobody’s physical safety or ability to complete the treasure hunt is compromised.

But then Patrick is attacked! He receives a nasty blow to the head—hard enough to knock him out in one hit. That’s going to leave a bump, and more than likely a concussion, though he doesn’t seem to be exhibiting the symptoms of such in rest of the movie.

And though we see later in the cave sequence that Patrick is pretty spry for his age, I have to imagine that the resulting fall is also a problem for him. He’s unconscious, so he wouldn’t be bracing against the fall, which can also cause injuries, but he also isn’t in control of how he lands at all.

He could have bruises, scrapes, or potentially even a broken bone, but given that he tells Ben he’s okay, and he seems to be, these injuries appear to be mild.

Danger: 0/5 Peril: 3/5

Buckingham Palace

Things start to get a little bit more interesting for the trio in London.

During the Buckingham Palace sequence, Ben is in danger for the first time in the film.

At first the danger is minor. He’s at risk of making a scene (check!), maybe getting banister burn on his legs, and of getting handled roughly by security.

Since it’s England, I believe they’d only be carrying nightsticks, so Ben isn’t at risk of being shot, but those guys all have military badges on. They can absolutely do some damage if they want to. At this point though, they don’t want or need to cause a scene like that, they just want to get Ben out of the public area.

Once Ben and Abigail escape the containment unit and ride up the dumbwaiter to the Queen’s study, the danger increases considerably. They’re now trespassing in Buckingham Palace, and in the Queen’s private study no less. If they get caught here, they’re going to be in considerably more physical and legal danger.

But that’s if.

Since they don’t, the main injury they’re at risk for is, like, carpet burns. (And if Ben or Abigail has any allergies to flowers, an allergy attack in the dumbwaiter, but since that doesn’t happen, I have to assume they do not.)

Danger: 4/5 Peril: 0/5

Beer Truck Chase

All right, some peril!

When Mitch and Co pursue them for the plank, Team Treasure is in danger and in peril for the first time in the film.

First off, Mitch’s henchman—whose name I know even less than I know the name of Ian’s guys—is shooting at them.

In addition to the obvious risk of actually being shot, because they’re being shot at in a car, there’s glass flying everywhere. It would be safety glass, the kind that breaks into little chunks rather than dangerous shards, but the gang could still receive scratches or abrasions from the pieces. That goes for the initial breaking of the widows and being tossed around with the glass pieces during the car chase.

The car chase itself poses a lot of danger of being hit, captured, or shot, but also of being hurt more minority while in the car.

They could get bruises or whiplash while being thrown back and forth in the car. If anyone is bracing a hand or foot on instinct to stop themselves from sliding around, they could sprain or strain those muscles.

At one point, the back of the car swings rather violently into the side of a double-decker tour bus and the remaining windows shatter. This seems to affect Abigail the most, as she’s the one shown getting flung toward the door.

She’s also sitting in the middle of the back seat, which I understand 100% from a blocking/cinematography standpoint so she’s in between Ben and Riley when they’re shown from the front. But from an in-universe standpoint? Girl. You are in a car chase. Get your ass into a proper seatbelt.

Then there are beer kegs flying everywhere, which makes the driving harder, but doesn’t seem to immediately affect any of our trio in the car.

Lastly, Ben runs a red light, which puts them in danger but ends up working out okay.

I would also be getting car stick by that point, but maybe that’s just me.

Danger: 4/5 Peril: 4/5

I have to say though, I feel bad every time I watch the DVD featurette about how this car chase—which they had to get special permission to shoot in downtown London—was the most ambitious sequence in the franchise.

Because it is also my least favorite sequence in the franchise, hands down.

The effects are nice, but character-wise it’s boring. Nothing character-wise is at stake.

Article idea! Catering truck chase vs beer truck chase. TBD

Emily

Then they try to decode the panel and go to Emily for help. I’m gonna mark this as “some danger” because sure, nobody’s got a gun, but it just feels wrong to mark “bickering divorcees” as a 0.

Danger: 2/5 Peril: 0/5

The Oval Office

The danger here is immense. If they get caught breaking into the Oval Office, Ben and Abigail will at best, be violently detained for an indefinite period of time, and at worst, shot on sight.

But it’s not that kind of movie though, so we don’t even see Secret Service agents nearby. The threat the movie is using to build tension is much more “What if Connor catches us?” than “What is the Secret Service catches/kills us?”

Again, the main injury they actually come away with is probably carpet burns. (And some serious interpersonal awkwardness.)

Danger: 12/5 Peril: 1/5

MIDPOINT — “I’m gonna kidnap him. I’m gonna kidnap the President of the United States”

Mount Vernon

So. We check out Riley’s book, consult with Agent Sadusky, and then it’s off to kidnap the president.

At this point we do see the Secret Service, both in boats patrolling the water, and in and around the party. They are the threat this time. And frankly I think it was smart of the movie to save them for this sequence, rather than use that tension twice in a row.

The threats here are that Patrick could be detained for 48 hours without cause.

Ben could:

Be shot in the water

Be shot on land

Have a scuba accident

Be shot on land some more

Be caught and detained and convicted of conspiring to kidnap the President of the United States

Once Ben is with the President, he isn’t in peril again—only in danger—until he goes through with his plan to shut the door. Now both the danger and the peril are high, because any “detained and questioned” options have been taken off the table.

However, he doesn’t actually seem to sustain any injuries during the kidnap. Maybe a few rock scrapes, wet shoes, or spiderwebs in the hair.

Danger: 15/5 Peril: 3/5

Library of Congress

Here, Ben is in IMMEDIATE DANGER…

…of forgetting those goddamn numbers. Every time I watch this movie, I try to remember them, and every time I fail.

Danger comes charging into the Library of Congress in the form of the FBI, who are much hotter on Ben’s trail then he thought they’d be. (Go Agent Sadusky, you funky little conspiracy theorist.)

Again, a lot of danger, not a lot of peril. That is until we get to the car escape.

First of all, there’s a deleted scene where Ben in standing on the glass roof and it’s cracking under his feet. That is peril, and it's my favorite deleted scene because he calls Agent Sadusky “Pete.” Excuse me are you buddies now? Do you play poker together? Tell me everything.

Ben has to climb down from the roof and jump into a moving vehicle. He’s at risk of scrapes from the metal and brick he’s climbing on, and of landing wrong either on the ground or in the car.

Then when Abigail drives toward the rising security barrier, they all probably receive quite a jolt when the back end of the car flies up. Ben likely takes it worst since he’s unbuckled in the wayback rather than belted into one of the seats.

Danger: 4/5 Peril: 4/5

Bad Guys Close In - Holding Dr. Appleton Hostage

What it says on the tin. Emily and Patrick are both at risk of being shot.

Danger: 5/5 Peril: 0/5

Mount Rushmore

And finally, the Mount Rushmore sequence.

Everyone is at risk of being shot until Mitch leaves behind his guns and henchmen.

ACT 3

Then I hate to say “the usual” but…yeah. The Team Treasure special.

Splinters

Rope burns

Abrasions from climbing over rocks

Falling rocks

Dust inhalation

Almost falling to your death from an ancient wooden contraption.

The usual.

There are also a few additional dangers I’d like to call attention to.

→ Falls

The trio and Mitch take a pretty significant tumble down the ramp that leads to the balance platform. Like, head over heel, ass over teakettle tumble, and then they land hard on the stone-and-wood platform.

They immediately have to scramble up to balance it out, so there isn’t much time for anyone to assess if they’re injured. At this point though, I’d guess the scraps and bruises are pretty significant, if not a concussion, sprained ankle or other more serious injury.

→ Cave-ins

There’s also the risk of cave-ins. In National Treasure, the wooden stair system under Trinity Church may be unstable, but the cavern itself does not seem to be in danger of collapse. A few bits of rock and debris fall when the subway train passes, but overall the stability of the tunnels and chambers does not seem to be an immediate concern.

That is less true here in Book of Secrets. Patrick and Emily especially are in danger of a cave-in since they’re crawling through previously-collapsed passages and moving rocks to get there.

That said, their actual injuries are probably more likes scrapes and bruises. Patrick also could have strained his arms, back, or knees moving the heavier rocks (as Emily directs him to do.)

They also probably again land pretty hard from their swing across the chasm. For Patrick that’s two falls in the last few days, and Emily also gets flung backwards while avoiding the trapdoor. Given their age, they have to have some significant bruising, if not fractures, sprains, or more.

They're the members of the party who are most likely to be feeling the repercussion of this adventure weeks down the road.

→ Water, water everywhere

Obviously, the most pressing obstacle in the second movie finale sequence is water.

In the famous words of my friend while watching the Gerard Butler Phantom of the Opera movie in the eighth grade:

“I would chafe.”

This may be the least of their worries, but still, let's put "significant discomfort" on the list. And if you headcanon any of them to have sensory difficulties, they're probably having an extra bad time.

The water poses plenty of health hazards from the immediate—i.e. drowning—to the slightly less immediate, like hypothermia.

We know thanks to the White House Easter Egg Roll that the film is taking place around Easter weekend. In 2007 that was April 8th.

The average weather for April in the Black Hills of South Dakota is a high in the high 40s (48°) and a low in the low 20s (21°). The actual weather in the first weeks of April in 2007 were significantly cooler than average, with “many parts of the state reporting temperatures 20 to 25 degrees below average.”

The gang is dressed for cool weather (or cold weather with lots of physical activity, depending on how far ahead you think they thought to pack and dress.) Most of them are wearing several layers, including a sweater and medium-weight jacket. Riley is wearing a parka. (Open, but still.)

P.S. I adore the idea that Riley is the constantly-cold one in the group.

Whether or not the air is below freezing, that water is cold.

The wet rocks scene was filmed at Sylvan Lake, whose temperature ranges from the low 30s to high 40s in April.

40° is bad news. Even if the lake was at its April maximum of around 50°, the kids are still at serious risk of hypothermia. At water between 32 and 40°, death can occur in in 30-90 minutes. Between 40 to 50°, in 1-3 hours.

They weren’t in the water that long, but hypothermia symptoms can set in much faster than that.

They’d experience cold shock for the first 3-5 minutes after entering the water. Symptoms include panic, hyperventilation, and increased heart rate.

Between 3-30 minutes after entering the water, they’re at risk of swimming failure. A loss of muscle coordination makes it hard to make forward movement in any water, let alone the aggressive current the team is facing.

And after 30 minutes, true hypothermia sets in, where the body temperature drops dangerously low.

I don’t know if Team Treasure was in the water for long enough for that to happen, but they could absolutely face the effects of stages 1 and 2.

Danger: 6/5 Peril: 14/5

Denouement - The President/Page 47

If the gang’s body temperature only dropped to between 90 and 95°, they’d be given blankets, changed into warm clothes, and given warm (not hot) liquids with sugar to help slowly increase their body temperature.

Not sure if you also have weirdly vivid memories of The Day After Tomorrow, but heating a hypothermic person up too quickly, or heating their extremities before their core can cause cardiac arrest.

If their body temperature was below 95°, they may also be give a warm IV.

Since the trio seem basically okay when they’re taken to see the President—Only Abigail has a blanket?? I guess real men don’t need hypothermia treatment?—I have to assume they only needed minor care.

Emily and Patrick are absent in this scene, primarily for story reasons, but we can also infer that they may have needed more treatment. Their age would have put them at higher risk, particularly if either of them have underlying medical conditions like diabetes or are taking certain medications.

Danger: 1/5 Peril: 3/5

→ Other Finale Injuries

• Abigail gets held at knife point. She seems fine, but could have a small scratch on her neck.

• Ben’s leg(s?) get stuck under the stone door. He seems to be walking okay when they’re taken to the President, but idk man. I’d think he’d have some serious bruising, if not a more significant injury.

• And finally, brain freeze! I don’t know what Ben and Abigail are drinking out of soda cups with straws in South Dakota at night in April after almost freezing to death, but they should definitely stop and switch to hot beverages!

Conclusion

Well, there you have it. Injuries in National Treasure: Book of Secrets.

I still can’t say I love the movie, but I’m always here for some hypothermia hurt/comfort so…

What did I miss? What other injuries does Team Treasure have to look forward to?

[problematickinconfessions1]

This is so awkward for me to talk about, but a new memory surfaced recently and it's been hard for me to wrap my head around it. I was very close to my neighbor's kid. He was a bright young man, mischievous, sweet. He was a bit of a handful sometimes and his parents would just.. Dump him with me. I didn't see this as a problem, as I've done this with Maggie and even occasionally Lisa. Babysitting was a-okay with me. They were all very well behaved and I've had no problems with them.

Well, except for Bart. He was the one I was left with the most. Most of the time it was just us. Alone. I knew he had a small crush on me, I could feel his eyes burning into me whenever I was out gardening, he wasn't slick, but I never knew he'd make a move on me. I thought he knew better.

One of the times I had him over at my place for the night he was just acting extra strange. I didn't know what was wrong with him until it was the middle of the night. He lied his way into laying in bed with me, he said he had a nightmare. I could see right through him, but I didn't say anything because who cares? Whatever helps you sleep at night. He laid right beside me, and we were practically spooning at this point. He just kept on getting closer until he was eventually grinding into me. I was too tired to tell him to stop, it was almost 2am and I was loopy from the lack of sleep. It just.. Felt too good. I knew it was wrong, I loathe myself for not stopping this from happening, but the little bastard just knew all of my weaknesses. I was way too vulnerable for him. We both eventually fell asleep curled up like this and I remember just waking up, and having the most gut-wrenching "HOLY FUCKING SHIT" moment. The guilt was crushing me. Bart on the other hand, just went about his day. He just woke up, said goodmorning, and went downstairs.

We never brought it up after it happened, so I'm not sure if anyone else found out about this encounter, but I really hope nobody did. I am so ashamed about this and I would actually die if anyone tried to confront me about this.

Homer, if you see this, uhm. Sorry for almost fucking your son? I guess?

-Ned Flanders (this is so embarrassing but if I even mentioned this on my main I'd get TORN APART by my canonmates.)

Im internally still a kid (like in a headspace little sense) and even when I was physically a kid this life I was into adult men, especially teachers lmao, so I get this very well actually. Im not saying "Oh yes this is a good thing there is no problems with this." But adolescents be horny and we don't really care much about age as much as adults do, because theres less restrictions on minors, less consequences. Now as a physical adult I care about these things, but back then I didn't. Its also totally possible for a minor to sexually exploit an adult, and people like to pretend otherwise. Lots of people have abusers/assaulters younger then them. Just because someone is a minor doesn't mean they can't use that to their advantage and hurt others by doing so. *Obviously as adults theres more responsibility to do the right thing*, but that doesn't mean you can't feel like you were hurt in some way by those actions. An adults emotions and comfort in a sexual setting are also important. Also its a past life, you can't do anything about it now. I have people in my system who committed flat out atrocities, and you just have to move on. You shouldn't drown in guilt for your mistakes or feelings in another life. You regret this, and I think that shows you care about doing the right thing and not hurting others, and I think thats whats important in the context of a past life. I dont think you should define yourself by it.

[lorata]

Injured Creed AU Part 3

(haha part 2 was 9 months ago what is linear time)

Part 3: Alec

The noise in his head is like a dull background roar he can mostly ignore, like sitting in his tree as a kid and trying to read while Mom cut the lawn. Constant, but mostly fine, until she’d pass right by his tree and the sound of that sputtering engine and the chopping blades and the weird gas smell mixed with the odd, sharp freshness of newly-murdered grass stalks slapped him in the face and he had to place his book face-down on his knee until she left again.

Creed is the Volunteer. Creed will fight in the Arena. A lifetime of destiny coalescing and closing in around them in a matter of weeks, a pinhole so bright it’s blinding. Buzzing, buzzing, but mostly in the back of his head, until he’s walking past a knot of boys in the common room and who do you think his mentor will be, or I wonder what Arena they’ll get or he better win, I heard they give us ice cream and there’s the lawnmower, flinging bits of grass into his eyes and drowning out the rhythm of his thoughts.

If only he could fling himself at them, knock their teeth out, cave their noses in until the shock and blood shoves the words back down their throats — but he can’t, only fear does that, and Alec can’t show fear, not here. And so he squares his shoulders and lets his feet fall a little louder on the mats and at least they stop when they see him. Kids raised as gods aren’t scared of much, but the power of the jinx hovers in dark corners. Nobody wants to be the one to call it down and look Alec in the eye once it strikes.

Have faith, Alec tells himself at night, muffling hysterical laughter into the thin pillow. He can only have faith.

Two weeks out he’s heading to dinner and Grant slams into him from around the corner. “Hey!” Kevin’s eyes bug out wide, and he grips Alec’s arms hard enough to hurt. Alec wrenches back but he holds on, fingers digging in. “Your brother’s out.”

He may as well have opened his mouth and spat out marbles. “What?”

“He’s out, man. Training injury. They’re saying no way will he heal in time.”

No sound but the rasp of air in his chest, coming faster and faster. His vision swims and his knees buckle and he’s going down, he’s going to faint, but Kevin slams him into the wall, one arm across his chest like they’re arguing, two kids having a minor scrap on the way to the commissary, nothing to see here. Alec gulps in hard breaths and Kevin keeps him pinned there, eyes dark and watchful, fist steady over Alec’s heart. “Breathe, dude. You’re fine.”

Kevin hates everyone and everything but he’s never hated Alec. The perennial youngest brother and the smallest candidate from cheapside, both with something to prove. Kevin twists his knife into the training dummies with vicious glee and knew a dozen ways to slit a throat even before Residential, but those same hands are gentle in the dark. Alec gasps and blinks until the burning recedes, and Kevin flashes him a sharp grin. “You got this. Let’s go get some pudding.”

------

He finds a trainer after dinner. “Can I see him?”

She doesn’t ask who he means or how he knows. It’s Residential, secrets fly like Arena drones and no one bothers to pretend otherwise. “That’s not a good idea,” she says. “He’s not in the best headspace right now.”

Well that — makes sense, Creed just had his whole life’s goal ripped out from under him, but that’s exactly why Alec wants to see him. He feels the protest rising inside him, actually considers trying to form an argument, but the trainer folds her arms and stares him down. In the end it’s not even a contest.

---------

If he’d known they’d send Creed home without warning, he might have tried it anyway.

“I heard he had a huge fucking freak out and scared the babies,” Nathan scoffs, sprawling across the sofa. “If I got cut — not that I’m going to get cut, but if I did — I wouldn’t be a huge baby about it. You injured out, suck it up.”

Alec also heard the rumours. Rumours that Creed hadn’t been protesting this removal, but that Alec hadn’t been cut with him, that he’d demanded the trainers let him take his brother home. It could be bullshit; Residential loves gossip, but no one really cares about accuracy as long as they get an interesting story out of it.

Nathan, prime example. Alec never really understood what he did to get on Nathan’s radar, except maybe exist and have a father who knew his name, but he spends way too much time trying to get Alec to crack. He used to try to ignore him, until it finally clicked that you don’t get points for playing nice. Now he tries to shut it down fast. Sometimes Kevin needles Nathan for fun, or plays him and Grant off each other to watch the sparks. Felix plays peacemaker but even his miracle skills only work so far.

“Maybe he cracked,” Nathan continues. He’s filched a handful of walnuts from the commissary and cracks them, flicking shards of shell out of his lap onto the far side of the sofa. One of them pingpongs off a cushion and hits Alec on the shoulder. “You know, all that pressure, countdown’s ticking, maybe he couldn’t handle it. Took himself out of play so he wouldn’t choke on the big day.”

Let it go, Alec tells himself. Be the bigger person. Rise above, Creed used to say in that haughty voice of his, incongruous now when Alec looks back at sixteen and imagines it coming from a twelve-year-old, but good advice, and useful for infuriating Nathan. Dad used to tell him that certain people would always seek reactions, and the only way to win meant not giving it to them. If he looks up, he knows what he’ll see: Nathan grinning at him, waiting to see if the barbs landed. Better to get up and hit the weight room before bed.

A small movement at his side. Kevin slips him a knife no bigger than his thumb, stolen from a brace meant for target practice, all without looking up from the book he’s studiously pretending to read. Alec considers it — weighs his options, samples the unseasoned chicken breast of the moral high ground — and drives the blade into the webbing of Nathan’s foot.

Nathan yelps, throws himself to his feet, howling. The others dance back, ringing them off from onlookers, energy spiked and ready for a fight. And Nathan fights mean, he nearly killed a boy in training their first year in Residential and he let everyone know it, but today Alec’s temper blazes white and furious. Before Nathan can charge him he darts in, flings himself on his back and gets one arm around his throat, jammed in below his jaw. Nathan whirls, snarling, fist slamming back into Alec’s skull, his eye, flinging his head back to crack Alec’s nose — but soon he staggers, knee hitting the floor in a loud crash, breath wheezing in plaintive gasps.

“Alec,” a trainer warns.

Alec lets go. Nathan slumps sideways, coughing, hand clutching at his neck. Bees buzz under his skin but he backs off, hands raised in exaggerated compliance. “Shut the fuck up about my brother,” Alec hisses. The knife has already disappeared, presumably back into Kevin’s sleeve. The trainer nods and turns back to a group of fourteens wrestling across the room.

Alec pushes himself to his feet, chest pounding. Everyone else returns to their conversations; Felix offers Nathan a hand up, gets a mouthful of curses spat in his face for his trouble. Alec turns, and across the room his gaze snags: Selene in the middle of a game of Bullshit, a hand of cards splayed between her fingers. They stare at each other, caught, for several seconds, until one of her game partners slaps her arm and snaps her out of it. She flips him off and tosses down a card, taking the hand — he groans, she grins, sharp and wolfish — and Alec turns away.

----------

It’s after light’s out, too late to sneak back to his room without getting caught. Alec steals a pillow and bunks down on the floor, sweat drying chill against his skin. He wonders, sometimes, what it would feel like to fall asleep right after, crammed together on the tiny bunk, knees jammed in to fit and arms tangled around each other’s waists, but they don’t do that here. Too much like something real, and the Centre is no place for real.

“You know,” Kevin says from above him, “he’s probably gonna be a Peacekeeper.”

Alec frowns. Kevin is a grey blur in the darkness, the only light a faint crack from under the door. “What? Who.”

“You know who.” The bed creaks. Kevin leans over the side, incongruous, like they’re kids at a sleepover and not candidates training for a death match less than two years away. “That was your whole thing, right, he’s the Volunteer and you’re on the Peacekeeper track. But he didn’t volunteer, did he. So what does that make you?”

Kevin has no interest in the Arena, not that he’d ever tell the trainers. He’s happy to let the others slug it out for number one, and he fights to keep his scores precision-high because he wants the Peacekeepers. He wants out of this dump, he says, he wants the rifle and the uniform and the respect that comes with it, a free pass to see the world — and he’ll do whatever he has to do to get it.

Alec asked him once, why he cares what Alec does. Why he’s always pushing, needling him to fight harder, do better. I don’t, he said, shrugging expansively. But sometimes you really piss me off.

Alec exhales toward the ceiling. “It’s not gonna be me. No way.” Kevin makes a noncommittal humming noise, not arguing, and for some absolutely stupid reason that drives a spike of anger through Alec’s spine. Selene used to argue, she would argue about the dumbest, most inconsequential things, sometimes she would disagree with Alec about the weather when they were outside right now just to see him sputter.

But sometimes — sometimes she’d agree with him, and that drove him even crazier. He imagines her here, in the dark, propped up on one elbow, yawning in exaggerated boredom.

It’s not gonna be me.

Okay.

But what if I wanted to?

Then you should do it.

But they won’t ever pick me!

Then don’t bother.

But —

Whenever they reached a loop, there was only ever one way through.

“Oh, you asshole,” Alec says aloud — to Kevin, to the ghost of Selene, it doesn’t really matter, does it. “I have to do it, don’t I.”

“Way I see it, you don’t have to do anything.” Kevin’s jaw cracks in a yawn, and for a moment Alec almost hears Selene here with him, tossing her knife into the air and catching it between two fingers. “But if you did, it would be badass.”

--------

Since Residential the trainers have been steering Alec toward spears: solid weapons, clean kills, good for his build as he finally starts filling out those long arms and broad shoulders his mother promised he’d grow into. It isn’t until his kill test, when he chokes the life from a woman’s throat with his bare fingers against her throat, that he realizes how much distance they give him. That the trainers have been giving him that distance, letting him have those extra feet of space, that mental space. He was grateful for it, until now.

Creed fought with kukri, twin machetes the length of his forearm, whirling in close to land a flurry of strikes and darting back before his opponent could regroup. He got his fighting style from Callista: close, deadly, efficient and ruthless.

The weapons racks have a whole row of wicked-looking polearms: long blades with a sharp, deliberate curve, handles long enough to give reach but not enough to throw the bearer out of melee range. Normally during free choice hour Alec takes his spear and practices on long-distance targets, the dummies moving along the tracks in all directions, but today Alec walks past the spears and plucks out a polearm he thinks matches his reach; the blade glints in the bright light. He can almost see the blood.

A line of dummies, various heights and sizes, stands in the corner. Alec faces off, bracing his feet and hefting the weapon’s weight. He’s used spears. He’s used swords. A spear-sword can’t be that much different.

“It’s a naginata,” the trainer says, amused. She steps in and corrects his stance, shifting his foot there, his arm there, and oh, yeah, okay, now he feels a lot less like he’s about to slice his own leg off by accident. “Watch your feet, don’t lock your grip. Switch it up if you need to, she’s a versatile one. If you like the feel we can work some drills.”

He’s heard some of the kids say that weapons sing. It’s not that Alec doesn’t believe them — he’s seen enough victories to know what it looks like when a tribute is born to the sword, or spear, or trident, when a clear-eyed outlier with ropy muscles and remade palms picks up a scythe or axe — but he’s certainly never felt it. It’s like love, or making father proud, Alec with his confused pencil sketches of what he thought it might be like while others forged on with the power of their conviction.

He swings the naginata and slices through a dummy, and a trumpet looses in his chest.

Still distant, but — purposeful, and even more important, active. No moments when the blade leaves his hands and fate takes over. Alec turns to face the trainer, who watches him with a small smile and a calculating expression he’s seen reserved for others, but not for him — until now. He pushes sweat back from his face and it’s so stupid, these are just dummies, they’re dummies but they’re real people, in the Arena they will be people, there will be blood and guts all over but for right now they’re only training dummies and the trainer is giving him a smile she never has before.

Kevin’s voice in the darkness, Selene’s an echo underneath: If you did, it would be badass.

Alec swipes an arm across his forehead, tosses damp curls out of his eyes. “Yeah,” he says. “Show me the drills.”

-------

He’s not sure what makes him do it, but that night he fishes out the wristwatch his parents gave him on his seventh birthday, buried at the bottom of the cardboard box shoved at the end of his bed. He slips it over his wrist — or tries. It gaps, the teeth of the clasp an inch away from meeting.

Each year he grew, his parents took him to the smith, bought another link for the watch to fit it. Here in Residential he’s kept growing, muscles filling out through the years of drills and practice fights.

It felt so heavy, once. Now, compared to a spear, it feels like it could float away.

--------

He spends hours, in the weeks before the decision, planning what to say to Selene when they pick her. His memory slides back to the girl in the woods with the glint in her eyes and the blood on her fingers but the terror has faded now, years of training dulled to — if not acceptance, then inevitability. They won’t let him in the Justice Building, he can’t visit her in the Tribute Suite, and they’ve spent five long years ignoring each other but he can’t let her go with nothing. In the end he thinks he has it, something to let her know he sees her, he remembers, that he still keeps faith.

But they don’t pick Selene.

He sees her only for a second, blank-faced and unreadable with every inch of her power. The chosen girl is giddy, too drunk on victory to taunt, and she offers Selene a kiss. Selene turns away and slips into the crowd, inscrutable. Alec should follow her — he can’t follow her, this is still the Centre and they are still candidates, and anyway she would not welcome him — and a strange, disloyal thought worms his way into his brain.

No Creed. No Selene. No Arena for the favourites. Creed is at home, learning how to be a boy again. Selene will join the Academy and learn to forge her disappointment into newer, sharper weapons. And Alec —

He stands in the sun for the first time in his life. No grand shadows block his path.

It is not, Alec thinks, a kind thought. Not when her best friend has had her dreams upended. When his brother’s entire life has been a lie. But he could, if he tried, get used to it.

-------

The funniest part about practicing what to say to Selene before she leaves is that he never actually has to do it. The trainers pull the Seniors from the Reaping and take them straight to the detox dorms, and that’s that.

“It’s harder for them than for us,” Felix when Alec points it out. “Any one of them could have been up there, if things were different. I’m sure they don’t want to sit here, watching us pause every five minutes and listening to the commentary.”

It makes sense, he just never had cause to pay attention before. Selene disappearing feels like missing the last stair and jarring his ankle on the hard ground, or maybe reaching into the jar for one last, long-anticipated cookie and swiping nothing but cold, empty porcelain. Five long years of nothing, dutifully acting like they never even knew each other, the one rule Selene chose to follow to the letter, and now she’s gone.

Did she know, or did the trainers whisk them out before they could say any goodbyes? Not that it matters, in the end.

--------

District Two wins. Petra staggers to the hovercraft with a broken knee and shattered pelvis, bleeding out and screaming at the sky as a wild and ragged cheer rises from the candidates in the training room. Felix hasn’t moved since the start of the fight, transfixed. Alec’s nails have broken through the skin of his palms as Kevin lets out a long, slow whistle. Grant has backed himself into the wall, hands pressed flat to the floor, eyes bugged wide. Even Nathan, who refuses to let anything impress him, drops a low, “Fuck!” under his breath.

A handful of trainers enter from the side door, balancing trays laden with ice cream bowls as the thirteens burst into excited babble. “Well,” Kevin says. “That’s gonna be a tough one to follow.”

---------

Alec turns eighteen a few days after the Closing Ceremony. By now he’s finished out the big ones — the Field Exam and final kill beads are building up a patina like the others, wearing down after so much blood, so many hand washings — and for once the milestone calls for no late-night excursions into a hovercraft, dropped into the pitch-black woods. Instead it’s a white-walled room and critical attendants who strip him down and call out every imperfection they can find. He can see how Selene might have scoffed at it the first time, and others might have lashed out. But for Alec, who can’t smile without his father’s voice ringing in his head (Teeth, son!), there’s nothing they can say to him he hasn’t heard a thousand times before.

“High pass,” a trainer says afterward, tossing Alec his uniform. “Ask the commissary for extra fruit at breakfast.”

-----------

The days narrow: the next fight, the next test, next, next, next. The glaive and naginata sing like an extension of his arm. At night he collapses, exhausted and triumphant all at once, the eyes of the trainers burned into the back of his neck. They call him out for excessive force more often now, and sometimes he doesn’t even need to calculate when to make that extra push for maximum impact. Sometimes Nathan sneers at him wrong, or Felix gives him a look that’s too knowing, too sympathetic. Some days it’s even Kevin, digging under his skin because he can. The anger flares, hot and white and more familiar now than foreign, like a whisper in the dark, and then there’s blood on his fingers and a trainer at his arm and a boy retching on the floor.

Is he really winning, asks the Alec whose wrist still fits the birthday watch tucked away in the box on his dresser, or losing something bigger? Alec shoves the box deep underneath his bed and paints a fresh coat of liquid bandage across his knuckles.

--------

Alec is sprawled on the couch in the lounge, a book draped across his face to block out the fluorescents, when Cato, the up-and-coming favourite from the year below, bursts in through the door. “Yo, they posted the list!” Alec sits up, the book falling to the floor with a loud thunk as the younger boy grins at him across the room. “You’re gonna want to see it.”

“Dude!” his year-mate socks him in the arm. “Spoilers!”

“Uh, no, everybody wants to see it, obviously.” And then they’re gone, leaving Alec, one leg hanging over the side of the sofa, heart pounding. Serves him right for napping, but his cohort passed the sleep deprivation test last week and his brain still hasn’t caught up.

He doesn’t actually get to the list, is the funny part. Everyone attacks him first, hollering and jumping on his shoulders, catching him in a headlock and driving knuckles into his ribs. “Holy shit, back off,” Alec barks out, laughing and shoving them away. “Let me read it myself, Snow’s balls.”

They’ve pinned the paper to the wall by the head trainer’s office like always. Mara wears a grin like she already has the crown, one fist pumped in the air. Sloane’s already gone, but she was never the frontrunner and they all know it. She’ll throw a few daggers, murder some training dummies, maybe get a knife in Nathan’s side if he starts something, and move on. Alec touches his fingers to the letters, stark black on white —

VOLUNTEER, FEMALE: MARA

VOLUNTEER, MALE: ALEC

“Who’s a statement of faith now, Dad,” he sings, too low for anyone else to hear. He spins and holds out his arm, and Mara grins and knocks their fists together.

--------

He made it. This time they’ll get to watch him shine.

[inkyvendingmachine]

BATIM Cthulhu AU: Season 1 Episode 2

✨Call of Cthulhu Season One Masterpost ✨ 💀 Call of Cthulhu: Haunted Hijinx Masterpost 💀

Warning: This campaign is an edited version of Call of Cthulhu: The Burning Stars scenario. While a lot has been changed, there IS spoilers for it throughout these posts.

BENDY RPG HAS CONTINUED MORE. if you missed the last episode, here's my post about it, but essentially some friends and I are playing a Call of Cthulu campaign but it's been i n k e d. Here's some of my favourite bits from this last episode. EVERYONES DOING FINE!!

- Joey had a nightmare. I have had lots of fun giving Joey minor nerves about things due to this terrifying nightmare. Also he woke everyone up by having an argument with a sack of clothing.

- Got confirmation that Joey talks better French when he is drunk. And yes we apparently all know, a little French, cause otherwise we’d be very hecked,

- we're still being followed around by military people, and it's raining, so Joey fast talks them into giving the group a ride while Henry and Sammy try to figure what the fUCK he's doing now. Like, if they're gonna follow us around anyways at least they can help out.

- went to a fortune teller that we apparently visited before, which we know from Henry's sketches and the address we found. "Would you like to actually get your fortune told this time around?" Joey: "Yes." "what?? No." "/Yes./"

- Also Joey spends a lot of time during this fortune reading kicking Sammy under the table cause he won’t stop making snide remarks in the middle of it.

- Found a creepy house, entered said creepy house, p sure someone was murdered in here, everyone’s heads start to hurt like they have every time before we passed out, don’t wanna pass out in creepy house. Sammy bolts out of the house, Henry drags Joey along knowing Sammy's not waiting for either of them and they need to go (Joey is too engrossed in some books he found, one with his name on it!) Nobody wants to pass out in the house of a guy that was probably murdered, so instead we pass out on the lawn of a house where a guy was probably murdered.

- Guess who spent multiple hours sleeping on the lawn of a creepy house in a rain storm, and now are soaked to the bone tHESE GUYES. while sammy goes off to tELL SOMEONE ABOUT THE MURDER and joey sneaks off to try to steal some information, Henry... becomes one with the lawn for a little longer...

- We get interrogated in the back of the car by some military after they indeed found a dead body while searching with Sammy, in which Sammy being eXTREMELY sarcastic and Joey being eXTREMELY critical of their work ethics finally manages to snap Henry out of disassociating, and he manages to actually pursued them to BELIEVE THEM THIS TIME, ABOUT, EVERYTHING THEY’VE BEEN SAYING,,, 

- sometimes we forget about the french checks, Shazz: “Sammy is going to go grab that box from the safe.” DM: Ummn... French?? Shazz: aRUGH, that’s right, Shazz: ... Shazz: Let that be in character. Sammy goes up and the guy talks to him in French and he’s like “aghhh, right...”

- Sammy then failed that French and had to go drag Joey downstairs right before he was able to dig into the room service that just arrived. He was not pleased about this,  Joey: I was going to get food from the bakery but then I decided it was more important to figure out what the fuck is going on, Sammy: aND THEN DECIDED TO GET YOUR FORTUNE TOLD?? Joey: IT SEEMED LIKE THE BEST WAY TO GET INFORMATION Sammy: iNSTEAD OF ASKING ANY ACTUAL RELEVANT QUESTIONS-- Henry: I leave for 30 seconds and you guys are already arguing again.

- They managed to get a box of things the Missing Thomas Connor had left behind!! [Plays Tom’s audiolog] Sammy: ...so, Gent is selling illegal guns under our name, and in return, Joey gets something associated with this CULT, that he’s clearly here to investigate further--? Joey: [Is Eating.] Henry: [has his head in his hands] joey.... what were you doing...? Joey: [points at papers we found with the fork] Henry: [gives him a lOOK, reads out what’s on the papers which kinda just points more fingers at Joey] Joey: [points at the mirror frantically with his fork] Henry: I was already going to -- [ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED: Henry is annoyed.]

- And to describe what the heck is going on in the picture I’ve drawn: Joey snuck downstairs to look at these weird tarot cards (that he was supposed to not touch and also destroy) and a book that was the Illusion of Living when he picked it up (but now is a completely different book (also the illusion of living was not published yet at this point in time)) with the mirror, while doing so a bunch of shadows show up in the window. When he approaches the window, his own reflection looks like Ink Demon Bendy, and then when he opens it to try and yell at all of them, sURPRISE THE INK DEMON IS ACTUALLY ON THE OTHER SIDE AND COMING FOR HIM NOW,

Sammy went out to smoke, and felt something weird and cold in his pocket, when he reaches in he finds his wallet and ID are spewing this inky goop all over, like just is pouring it out from ?? nowhere?? and for some reason his ID is a silhouette of himself, which is where the ink is coming from,

Henry is spending a nice time just chilling and drawing some to calm down, and then Sammy runs in and shoves the ID into Henry’s face asking if the picture on his ID also looks wrong to him. Problem is... it looks correct, as Sammy is now a black silhouette of himself, just like in the picture...

And then everyone freaks out and suddenly wakes up the next morning and everything is fine!! EVERYONE. IS. DOING. FINE.

--> Episode 3

✨Call of Cthulhu Season One Masterpost ✨ 💀 Call of Cthulhu: Haunted Hijinx Masterpost 💀

[hopeamarsu]

Hurt

Flip Zimmerman x female reader

Word count 1,538

Warnings: Mention of hospital, stitches, needles and bodily injury (nothing is really described in detail, but they are there). Slightly murderous and feral Flip. 

A/N: So, I had to have some minor cosmetic surgery last week because of an irregular mole and currently have some annoying stitches on my body. I guess you could say that this piece is inspired by those four little buggers and the process of waiting for the day when they come out. When I started rolling this idea in my head, I could only picture Flip, so I’m dipping my toe into writing Flip, hopefully it’ll turn out alright. 

“Colorado Springs Police Department, Zimmerman.”

“Flip... Please do not freak out, but...”

Flip Zimmerman sat up in rapt attention on his desk chair as he registered your timid voice. A voice that was laced with a hint of hurt and something else he couldn’t quite place. You normally didn’t call him during the day, both of you had busy jobs and he knew that as a school teacher you had even less time than him to take a break during the day. If you were calling him, something had to have gone wrong.

“Baby girl, what happened?”

“...I’m in the hospital.”

A million things went across his mind as he waited for you to speak, to explain more, to ease his mind. Had something happened at work? Were you hurt? Was someone else hurt? One of the kids you taught? Did someone touch you without permission? Who he had to hunt down if they had hurt you?

“It’s really not a big deal, just four stitches and that’s only because the doctor doesn’t want it to scar...”

All of his blood rushed in his ears as he reached behind him to grab his jacket from the backrest. You were hurt, bad enough that a doctor had decided to poke needles at you and you were saying it wasn’t a big thing? No, no way in hell.

“Y/N. What. Hospital.” Flip basically barked out, the receiver giving out a crackle, in danger of snapping in two, as he held it so tightly in his hand. He could feel Ron and Jimmy turning to watch him in surprise at his tone and words, but he couldn’t care less in the moment.

“St. Agnes, near the school. But, Flip, honey, it’s not a big...”

“Do not move. I’m coming to get you.”

The receiver went flying as large cowboy boots stormed across the room, taking the phone with it. Ron, sitting closest to Flip’s station, could hear the faint voice calling for Flip from the phone as he looked at the retreating flannel covered back, eyes wide.

*

You were sitting on one of the waiting room chairs as Flip walked inside. Well, walking was a kind term for the sound of thunderous stomping that you could hear before you saw him. You watched him make a sweep across the room before he settled on you. A few seconds later the mountain of a man dropped down on his knees before you and worried eyes found yours.

“Baby girl, what...” His voice broke and eyebrows pinched together as he kept sweeping his eyes across your features and hands trailed over your body. You smoothed his cheek and smiled, hoping to alleviate the worry on his handsome face. You buried another hand to his hair, scraching lightly at his scalp in a way that always soothed him. 

“It’s nothing bad, Flip. I promise you.” You tried to input as much of calmness into your voice as you could, to make him understand that you were alright. Your Flip was a protective one, you didn’t need him going off the rails with what you were about to reveal. “Just a small accident that happened at the school. There is nothing to worry about, trust me.”

He took a couple of breaths through his nose, hoping silently that he could light a cigarette here. He really needed the nicotine right about now, his chain-smoking on the ride over a proof of that. 

“Tell me. Please.” The words were still a little choked as they were whispered. As far as he could feel and see, you were in one piece, no blood or missing limbs. You looked pretty much the same as that morning when he had left you at the gates and kissed you goodbye, promising to pick you up after the school was over. But he knew that it was only an illusion. One that would shatter as soon as you spoke.

“Well... Joshua and Michael were fighting again during art class. They had their hands on some clay carving knifes and as I went to stop them, one of them accidentally stabbed me.”

Stabbed you? With a knife? And you claimed you were alright? How in the name of everything that was holy were those boys still breathing? He could feel his blood boiling again, a nervous tick on his knuckles. His nostrils flared in anger. 

“Honey, I need you to calm down. I am fine, I promise. The nurse at the school looked me over, but told that it was better if I came here instead. The doctor decided that I would need some stitches, just to make sure that the area does not get infected and so that it doesn’t scar. At least not badly.”

There was a possibility that you would get a scar from all of this? That was it, Flip was going to kill the boys responsible for hurting you. Ron could help him dispose of the bodies and Jimmy could run interference. There was a nice stone quarry outside of the city they could use for the job, nobody would be the wiser. 

“Where?” He ground out, your hands the only thing that kept him from bolting to his truck and going hunting for those responsible. 

You gestured at your chest and Flips eyes widened. That bastard kid had stabbed your tits? Oh, they were going six feet under. He must have flashed murderous anger in his eyes one too many times as the next thing he realized was that you had placed both of your hands to his cheeks and forced him to look you into the eyes.

“Flip. It was an accident. You cannot plan to murder anyone. I am fine. I promise. This is only a precaution.”

“I’m not planning to murder anyone.” He didn’t care that he sounded like a petulant kid at that moment. He wanted to hurt them for hurting you, but if you didn’t allow him to kill, he could do other things to them to make sure nothing like this happened ever again. “Can I...”

“No, absolutely not. Flip, they are seven years old, I do not want you giving them nightmares either. They are scared enough as it is.”

Fine. He held out his hands as to surrender to your will. But then he turned his attention back to your body, wanting to rip the cardigan off you so that he could see your skin. Make sure that you had been given all the care you needed and he could sooth his worrying mind that all was going to be okay.

“Show me.” 

If the doctor had done a sloppy job, Flip could settle for him as well. The idea of it all sickened him. That someone had poked a needle into your perfect skin, threaded it back together, leaving ugly black strings in there to tighten the skin for days to come. That had to have caused you discomfort, to make you even more uncomfortable and he wanted someone to pay for it. He would gladly burn the world at your feet to easy any pain you had, physical or otherwise. 

“I’ll show you once we are home. I promise. But I need you here with me now.” You kissed him then, wanting to feel those velvet lips move against yours, make you forget the afternoon completely. Despite what you’d told Flip, you had been slightly shaken by the experience and the pain that was still ebbing from the needlework. And you knew that he would provide comfort for you, make all this go away. 

Flip was a full-body kisser so it was no wonder that once your lips touched his, he wrapped his arms around you. He pulled you to his lap, right there on the hospital waiting room floor. Hands danced across your back, slipping lower to grip your bottom. Flip desperately wanted to slip his hands under you skirt, he needed to feel your skin on his skin. 

There was almost a feral need coarsing through his veins. He wanted to run away with you on his arms, tuck you under him on a bed with silk sheets, where nothing could hurt you. To place kisses everywhere on your naked body, taste the salt of your skin with his tongue, bring you to the edge and to heaven, time and time again. Make it all go away, leaving nothing but pleasure behind.  

But before he could act on those desires, before the kiss could get too heated (a reccuring thing with Flip and those sinful lips of his) you pulled away. You pressed small kisses to his lips as you grounded both of you back to reality. “There is one thing...” Another kiss “...I still need to tell you.”

Flip quirked an eyebrow at this. What more could there be?

“So, there are some rules we need to abide to while I’m healing. No heavy lifting and nothing can poke the wound. Also, I cannot go swimming in the next ten days and a day after they do come out. And... I can’t sweat heavily or jostle the wound. That means sex is out.”

“Fuck.”

His week just went from bad to worse.

Tagging as requested @aloneandsleepless​ 😉

[tethered-heartstrings]

Fanfic ask game:

D: Is there a song or a playlist to associate with A Little Gold Goes A Long Way?

F: Share a snippet from one of your favourite dialogue scenes you've written and explain why you're proud of it.

S: Any fandom tropes you can't resist?

D: The only song mentioned in the story is “Palangos jūroj", which is an old Lithuanian song. I spent a fair amount of time researching a song that was in Lithuanian with a theme that fit my story and Hannibal and Will's relationship. (I may have taken some slight creative liberties in its interpretation. Sue me.) But otherwise not really. Even though I can't listen to any goddamn album without thinking of those two idiots, somehow that doesn't translate to my fics at all.

F: Holy shit, I have too much material to read through. I also feel dialogue is not my strong suit. (P.S. sorry there are more than one I am extremely indecisive.) I'll leave which fic it comes from a mystery. I also took out some of their emotional/facial descriptions and stripped it to just the dialogue. (Edit: I forgot the second part of this prompt oops. I don’t know if I want to explain it, I think me dissecting my own work is a bad time.)

H: “Let me help you. I don’t want to hurt you, Will.” W: “You will. You will because… I need you to.” H: “I don’t understand.” W: “I remembered. I need you to remember, too. You chose to hurt me once. Do it again. Hurt me now and… remember how it feels. Remember my face. My pulse. My breath in your hands. Remember now… so you never hurt me again. I want it to haunt you. Because I need it to end.”

H: “Is something the matter?” W: “How do you treat a burn?” H: “Not much can be done for minor burns. Clean it and dress it like any other wound.” W: “This… isn’t like any other wound, Hannibal.” H: “Damaged flesh is all the same, Will. Don’t make meaning where there is none.” W: “Does it hurt?” H: “Do you need it to?” W: “Pain is lonely. Whether its internalized or left to be expressed unaccompanied makes no difference. I know it hurts.” H: “Then why did you bother to ask?” W: “I guess I hoped maybe you were done lying to me.” W: “You chose an easy target. A bird with broken wings.” H: “Broken bones can be mended.” W: “Even the best medicine can’t cure it all. What’s the quality of life for a bird that cannot fly?” H: “Domesticated birds can live their full lives with mended wings.” W: “Wild birds don’t stand a chance at surviving.” H: “Some birds are not nearly as feral as they assume.” H: “Are you jealous of Mason Verger?” W: “There is nothing about Mason even remotely desirable. I just think you deserve better than his fucking brand on your back.” H: “I cannot see my scar. My branding does not bother me. Blips in a bigger story. It bothers you, though. Did Mason ruin me for you?” W: “What?” H: “He’s marked me. Tainted me, perhaps. A part of me forever.” W: “Nobody can ruin you. Least of all Mason fucking Verger. Besides, not all my marks are from you, either. Does that make you jealous?” H: “Yes.” W: “Why?” H: “Others have marked you but have caused less lasting agony. I wish I could be among the few to… leave their mark but not a scar.” W: “If our violence had no meaning, we wouldn’t be here. Was I ruined for you?” H: “There isn’t a thing on this earth that could spoil you for me.”

S: The only fic I seem to be able to write is hurt/comfort and angst/(some)fluff. Basically, enough fluff to keep the angst from being too painful. I unapologetically love showering/bathing together non-sexually. I can't explain in words how it makes me feel. But it is so vulnerable and requires so much care and love and attention. To wash someone's hair for them, fingertips tracing across the skin? Perfection. I will never tire writing about it. I also love wound healing. Similar feelings of intimacy as bathing but with darker origins. Cleaning blood, stitching wounds, the argument over of "I don't need local anesthetic/yes you do." I guess I'm a sucker for complicated intimacy and touch.

[wixelt]

Voided AU #017 - Mobs

Voided AU. Going to delve a little into the mobs of the Hermit world, this time. Or at least the mobs as they are in the opening days of the crisis, with a few hints beyond that for what's to come.

Special thanks to @tripleabatteryiswhoiam for making me give this some genuine thought. Might've missed an opportunity, otherwise.

When the Void arrives, its initial obvious and rapid effect on the mobs of the world is quickly apparent to most Hermits. In the sunless darkness of the Void fog, magnitudes more hostile mobs find places to spawn, the shadowed landscape an ideal locale.

And they aren't burning, or despawning when nobody's around. So the number of foes in the world keeps rising. And rising. And rising. And there’s not much that can stop that, as Xisuma's lockout means he can't just remove them.

And naturally, hordes of monsters make travel incredibly difficult, especially as they're getting tougher as the Void suffuses them.

Hermits like False or Wels may be the first to really notice the change. Beating their way through the horde to find their friends, they discover it takes a couple more slashes of the sword than usual to kill a spider or creeper. For a small group, that’s not a huge problem, but when there’s hordes numbering hundreds, though...

A lot of this can be attributed to monsters gradually being made more resistant to the elements, particularly those that would've hurt them before. Mobs are the first entities to be affected like this, though as it's early days you wouldn't know just from looking at them.

And then there’s the possibility of the Void having far more than just a passing effect on various creatures... but in the present, this isn't a concern for most, so only X keeps his eyes out for the signs. And he isn't exactly close to any other Hermit to discuss the prospect.

There's a minor point of good news, though, if you can call it that.

The undead seem less affected by the Void than other mobs, their quasi-alive nature somehow providing a mild resistance to the effect that's already begun to show in other kinds of monster. It makes them easier to cut through for the time being, but only time will tell if it holds up. When Cleo eventually discovers this, it'll likely provide her a degree of relief that her undead nature won't drag her down, as of all the mob-type Hermits, she views herself as possibly the most susceptible. It might also explaining some other... oddities, too.

Regardless, with hordes of Void-afflicted hostiles potentially lunging from the darkness, the world suddenly feels a hell of a lot larger, for everyone.

But there's the fear - another of X's, as well as Scar's eventually - of more than just hostile creatures being affected. That in due time there may be no such thing as a passive mob.

That Hermits might be beset by hordes of hostile pigs, sheep, cows, wolves...

...and cats.

[karasunovolleygays]

UshiIwa Fic Recs

(that nobody asked for)

Hello! It’s my distinct pleasure to welcome you all to UshiIwa hell! I’ve been malingering here for years, but with new developments in canon, it looks like I am no longer stuck on Gilligan’s Island (me plus the six other sad bastards i’m stranded with). 

As a long time sufferer of this ship, I would like to introduce you to some of my favorite UshiIwa stories, including a few of my own bc tag smol. :’)

Rating: G/T

I Lose Control by voices_in_my_head Tags: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, OMC (Coach) Summary: "He looks to the bench, where Iwaizumi’s eyes dance from player to player." Words: 1,538 Chapters: 1/1 My notes: this is an interesting study of how Ushijima would deal with an injury at a crucial moment when everyone is counting on him, plus a dose of priority.

Cordially Uninvited by Karasuno Volleygays (that’s me) Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Possible Current Manga Spoilers, Established Relationship, Paparazzi Summary: Paparazzi haunting notable people has always been a problem, but Hajime and Wakatoshi opt to clear the air on their own terms. Words: 1,279 Chapters: 1/1 My notes: I thought it would be interesting to see how Ushijima would deal with celebrity and subsequently strangers poking their noses in his personal business.

Three Doors Down by Karasuno Volleygays Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Fluff, More Fluff, pretty bara men bonding over dogs Summary: When Ushijima inherited a property that had seen better days, he found himself spending a lot of time and effort in a new part of town restoring the house to its former glory. However, he didn't expect a litter of puppies in a yard a few houses over to revive his spirit, as well.

He certainly didn't anticipate their owner stirring something to life within him, either, but that was a development he didn't need much coaxing to get used to. Words: 13,145 Chapters: 2/2 My notes: I have no excuses for how fluffy this is.

you're good, too quickly admitted by pyrality Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Coffeeshop AU, College AU, Fluff, Getting Together, Awkward Flirting Summary: Iwaizumi sits back in the chair, "Oikawa thinks I could do better."

Ushijima swallows, eyes still on his laptop screen, "And what do you think?"

"I think I'd like to go out to lunch with you sometime."

He looks up at the other boy, feeling warm at the sight of Iwaizumi's crooked, barely there smile, a challenging twinkle in his eye.

"Oh," Ushijima manages before he recomposes himself, "I'd like that.” Words: 2,731 Chapters: 1/1 My notes: UshiIwa dating to spite Oikawa is too good to turn down.

Alight by Karasuno Volleygays Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Time Skips, Rivals to Lovers Summary: Iwaizumi Hajime can't believe his soulmate is the guy who just wiped the floor with his team, but there is no denying the fact that he is irrevocably linked to Ushijima Wakatoshi. Words: 4,504 Chapters: 1/1 My notes: If you’re interested in them getting to know each other through their failures and vulnerable moments, this is probably your jam.

Baby It's Cold Outside by RarePairGremlin Tags: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Winter, Cuddling, light grinding, hints to smut but nothing is described, jaw kiss, Kissing, Fluff, Established Relationship Summary: The childish grin spread over his lips again as he faced them, his gaze roaming up them slowly as an idea formed. Ushijima, ever prepared, was fully dressed in thick socks a pair of blue sweats, which they had tucked into their socks like the crime against fashion they are, and a thick hoodie. He knew for a fact, since he’s stolen it enough times, that the hoodie was fuzzy and soft on the inside. Beside them lay a steaming cup of tea, the bag still steeping inside as they liked their tea strong, and the aforementioned throw lay comfortably across their lap. A perfect image of warm and cozy.

It would be a shame if someone was to disturb that now wouldn’t it? Words: 1,471 Chapters: 1/1 My notes: This is exactly what it says on the tin, plus a bonus NB Ushijima!

the ghost in your room by mousecat Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Unrequited Love, Unrequited IwaOi, oikawa is a bit of a dick Summary: Hajime finds a way to get over Oikawa Words: 1,173 Chapters: 1/1 My notes: It’s an oddly pleasurable mixture of fluff and a punch in the throat.

Good Graces by Karasuno Volleygays Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Established Relationship, Arguments, Mending Fences Summary: Hajime is pissed at Wakatoshi for something he admits he did until he finds out the real reason he did it. Then he feels like a jackass. Hopefully, his live-in boyfriend is up for a good old fashioned groveling session. Words: 2,059 Chapters: 1/1 My notes: Making your otp mad at each other is hard and it hurts, but the communication afterward is so important. 

lit the very fuse by mousecat Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Getting Together, Unrequited Love, Christmas Eve, Mostly Fluff, ushiwaka is a soft boy, you can never convince me otherwise Summary: Hajime isn't sure what he and Ushijima are to each other, but he knows he's still stuck on Oikawa. Words: 2,609 Chapters: 1/1 My notes: If you like FWB to Lovers, step right up and scream into the void with me. 

Once An Enemy. by BGee93 Tags: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff, Getting Together, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Friends, Aged-Up Character(s), Slow Burn, Misunderstandings, Not Beta Read, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluffy Ending, Volleyball, Volleyball Dorks in Love, Volleyball Dorks & Nerds, volleyball mentioned not played, Getting to Know Each Other, Love, Love Confessions, Falling In Love, Friendship/Love, Idiots in Love, Declarations Of Love, Dorks in Love, Confessions, Enemies to Lovers, Sharing a Bed, Literal Sleeping Together, Coffee Shops, Bakery and Coffee Shop, Coffee, First Dates, Awkward Dates, Aobajousai, Shiratorizawa, boyfriend sweater, Confusion, Cliche, cliches, Awkward RomanceAwkward Meetings, meme team - Freeform, Slow Build, Slow Romance, very slow burn, Sleeping Together, Sleepovers, Bonding, Forced Bonding Summary: 'It took several minutes to catch his breath again and to stop hissing through his teeth at the areas that throbbed, until they were just a dull ache. Once Iwaizumi felt he was able to move again he slid his hands up the strangers chest, ignoring the ripple and twitches his touch caused since the situation was already awkward enough without Iwaizumi appreciating the well toned muscle under his fingertips, as he pushed himself up till he was able to look at the persons face. There was more lighting on the bottom floor, as it was closer to the illuminating street lamps outside, so he was able to make out exactly who the man was within mere seconds despite the face still being quite shadowed. And the identity shocked him into stilling every joint, muscle and fiber of his being.

Oh hell no.' Words: 20,130 Chapters: 1/1 My notes: This was written for me as a gift in an exchange a while back. Have I stopped screaming about it? Not bloody likely.

Rating: M

Focus (On Me) by Verbrennung Tags: Underage, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ushijima is a 1st year, lots of staring, and looming, and crowding, Seijou!Ushijima, rated for ~makin' out~ Summary: Nobody had foreseen future Super Ace Ushijima Wakatoshi transferring from Shiratorizawa to Aoba Johsai for high school. Everyone's curious to know why, and as Iwaizumi discovers, some of his reasons are... unexpected.

An AU in which everything is mostly the same except Ushijima is a first year at Aoba Johsai and has a huge, looming crush on Iwaizumi. Words: 12,454 Chapters: 1/1 My notes: This should probably be rated T instead, but whatever. If you ever wanted to know how much of an awkward bastard both of them are when they’re into someone, this is your jam.

Point Blank by Karasuno Volleygays Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Future Fic, Brief (but pertinent) Mention of Homophobia, Slow Burn, Financial shenanigans, Scary Men with Guns, Minor Character Death Summary: Iwaizumi Hajime accepted a position at a company that was going places, and he knew he had a bright future ahead of him if he just kept his head down and worked hard — a future his family desperately needed him to achieve. He didn't count on an old rival working in the same building, nor Ushijima Wakatoshi's surprisingly cordial demeanor, yet he managed to make an unlikely friend and an even more unlikely roommate.

But when Iwaizumi climbed up the company ladder and into some of the more shadowy recesses of the corporate realm, he knew they would both get more than they bargained for, and the only person he knew he could trust was Ushijima. Words: 44,981 Chapters: 12/12 My notes: This was my first UshiIwa and I still think about it a lot. Imagining these guys in regular jobs is strange, but kind of endearing when you get a feel for how they live their lives after volleyball.

Rating: E

Flare by fish_wifey Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, From dislike to like, Tension, Sex Toys, Anal Sex, Dressing Room Sex, Topping from the Bottom, Orgasm Delay/Denial Summary: Ushijima's forwardness makes Iwaizumi edgy, but after they figure their shit out, it's Iwaizumi who brings Ushijima on edge. Words: 7,687 Chapters: 2/2 My notes: Enemies to lovers speed run ahoy!

Tangled Webs by Karasuno Volleygays (Restricted) Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Black Widow AU, Assassin Iwaizumi, Crime boss Ushijima, alcohol use, Drugging, dubcon elements, Angst Summary: Iwaizumi Hajime is a seasoned killer, with wit sharp enough to cut and reflexes to match. He's never missed a kill. That is, of course, until he meets his new mark — Ushijima Wakatoshi.

Can Ushijima offer Iwaizumi what he truly desires, on top of a night of heated passion that can only end one way? Words: 4,120 Chapters: 1/1 My notes: This was some fucked up stuff, but sweet baby jesus it was a wild ride to write.

Unraveled by Karasuno Volleygays (Restricted) Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Bondage, Knife Play, Edging, Rough Sex, Flogging, Breathplay, Toys, Dubious Morality Summary: After his liberation from his past life, Iwaizumi adjusts to life with Ushijima. But something is missing, and Ushijima picks the strangest (and most erotic) way to give it to him. Words: 5,145 Chapters: 1/1 My notes: It’s cute that I thought the first fic in this series was fucked up. This one was clearly more so, but noragerts.

Poly/Multiship ft. UshiIwa

4 AM by ApparentlyAda Rating: T Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, this is so stupid, I'm Sorry, Oikawa and Ushijima talk about dogs, Iwaizumi is Oikawa and Ushiwaka Trash #1 Relationship: UshiIwaOi Summary: "Ushiwaka."

"Yes?"

"What if one day you woke up as a chicken?"

"What if one day you shut the fuck up?", interrupts Hajime groggily.

(Or, simply put, the awful(ly amazing) conversations these three dorks have during sleepless nights) Words: 1,064 Chapters: 1/1 My notes: I hope you like banter and Oikawa roastage haha

Bridge the Gap by FindingSchmomo Rating: T Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Polyamory, Established Relationship, Divorce, Past Child Abuse, Lawyer! Oikawa, Police officer iwaizumi, Flower Shop Owner Ushijima, child kageyama, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Domestic Fluff, Angst, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Panic Attacks, Anxiety, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Meet the Family, chap 6 is the familys ongoing mission to keep kags hydrated, chap 7 is meet the parents edition, Internalized Homophobia, just a touch of it really Relationship: UshiIwaOi Summary: Iwaizumi Hajime, Oikawa Tooru and Ushijijma Wakatoshi love each other more than anything, but sometimes that’s not enough, especially in a world that doesn’t love them back. Tiny cracks begin to widen, ever so slowly, until the gaps they leave seem insurmountable.

They find their answers with each other, and surprisingly enough, with the little boy loitering outside their window.

—-

Or, a story of disconnects and the love it takes to bridge them. Words: 121,443 Chapters: 18/18 My notes: It’s long with a lot of heavy themes, but if you look at the tags and think you can get through them, it’s so worth it.

a taste of heaven by beatboxbmo Rating: T Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Polyamory, Birthday baking, Cuddles, Established Relationship, Aged-Up Character(s) Relationship: UshiIwaOi Summary: tooru comes home early on his birthday to see his two boyfriends asleep on the couch. they baked him a surprise. Words: 2,141 Chapters: 1/1 My notes: This is exactly as warm and gooey as it sounds.

Three's A Crowd by FindingSchmomo Rating: T Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Romance, Comedy, Romantic Comedy, Miscommunication, Dating, First Kiss, a mess, These Boys are a MESS, Chatlogs, Light Angst, Polyamory, OT3 Relationship: UshiIwaOi Summary: Iwaizumi loves Oikawa.

Oikawa loves Iwaizumi.

Neither of them will say anything.

Then, suddenly, Ushijima is there.

And things get very complicated. Words: 32,385 Chapters: 9/10 My notes: Normally I don’t put WIPs on rec lists, but this one is close to completion and it’s so, so worth it. Boys are dumb and you should appreciate them.

adolescence and all its glory by pageleaf Rating: E Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Established Relationship, Developing Relationship, Wooing, Future Fic, College/University, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Fluff, Flirting, Established Iwaoi, eventual OT3, Threesome - M/M/M, Manga Spoilers Summary: Iwaizumi was supposed to meet new people. Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do, when you go to a different university from your best friend? Now that his life isn’t filled with Oikawa, he should have been making new friends, trying new things, whatever.

Instead, he shows up barely on time to his anatomy class, hears a small noise from beside him, and turns around to see Ushijima Wakatoshi. Words: 20,024 Chapters: 2/2 Relationship: UshiIwaOi My notes: Accidental rivals to lovers? Enjoy the sound of me screaming into the abyss, and the abyss screams back.

Close For Comfort by Leryline Rating: E Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, NSFW, ushioi - Freeform, really sinful but great, Angst, it has a happy ending i promise, iwaoi - Freeform, Phone Sex, Rough Sex, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Romance, Threesome, Double Penetration, Spitroasting, Bottom Oikawa Tooru, Cheating, but look it's integral to the plot ok, ROMANC E AHGHGNJD it's so gay, turning a oneshot into a multi-chap out of spite: a novel by me, also: don't cheat on people irl my dudes it's not cool. not cool.like legit please DO NOT Summary: Oikawa Tōru has always seen his future with Iwaizumi Hajime - solely, utterly, completely. After all, Iwaizumi is his pillar, the only person he needs in the world.

...right?

[or: Ushijima Wakatoshi comes in and fucks everything up, as usual, but Oikawa has never given in easily, and neither has Iwaizumi, for that matter.] Words:61041 Chapters: 15/15 Relationship: UshiIwaOi My notes: If infidelity makes you uncomfortable, even if it has a happy ending all around, I would pass on this one. The smuts, however, are top shelf.

Privacy by plumtrees Rating: E Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, House Party, Alternate Universe - College/University, Future Fic, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Riding, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Spanking, Partner Swapping Summary: Iwaizumi reaches for the knob by his hip, easily twisting it open and getting them both inside. They stumble in with their lips still sealed over each other’s, silent giggles passing between mouths as Oikawa hurries to flatten his hand against the door to shut it and crowd Iwaizumi against the surface, other hand winding around his waist to pull him close, keep him there—

But then an alarmed noise rips from Iwaizumi’s throat, the hand steady on his shoulder suddenly pushing him away Iwaizumi’s looking behind him, expression a mix of shock and mild horror and Oikawa follows a split second later, just in time for a moan to resonate past the muffled music being carried over from downstairs.

“Oikawa.” Ushijima greets, only the slightest tremor to his voice as Shirabu sinks down on his cock. “Tendou didn’t mention you’d be here.” English Words: 9,736 Chapters: 1/1 Relationship: UshiShiraIwaOi My notes: Good lord this is spicy. This is ‘swinging’ in its truest form.

Show Me You Own Me by preciousghouls Rating: E Tags: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Threesome - M/M/M, Threesome, Rimming, Barebacking, BDSM, Daddy Kink, on oikawa's part, Dom/sub, Anal Sex, Dirty Talk, Multiple Orgasms, Bottom!Iwaizumi, bottom!Oikawa, top!oikawa, top!ushijima, switch hitter oikawa, Established Relationship, Developing Relationship, i have sinned, sleeping drug in five lines, Consensual, Begging, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Petplay, Collars, Cuffs, Butt Slapping, Spanking, Butt Plugs, domestic AU, Crossdressing Summary: It's Oikawa's idea, of course. But Iwaizumi finds himself loving the way Ushijima has Oikawa wrapped around his fingers, and before long they're both moaning at the hands of Ushijima.

aka the kinkiest shit I've ever written in my life. Words: 20,819 Chapters: 4/4 Relationship: UshiIwaOi My notes: Sometimes wanting to be dommed by ushiwaka is a communal mood, ya know?

Tumblr Fics

(mostly not rated/tagged; proceed with caution and at your own discretion)

Untitled by notsuchasecret

Untitled by worthlesspride (this is definitely E)

Untitled by worthlesspride (this is definitely E)

Untitled by raspberrydevil

Untitled by raspberrydevil

Untitled by deathbelle

Comfortable by raspberrydevil Relationship: ushiiwaoi

Morning Kisses by raspberrydevil Relationship: ushiiwaoi

Meet My Nephew by raspberrydevil Relationship: ushiiwaoi

[destieltropecollection]

Destiel Trope Collection Day 25: Slow Burn

The difference between living and existing (WIP) | @lucy-is-alive

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 6052 Main Tags/Warnings: John Winchester's A+ parenting, College AU, Sexuality crisis, PTSD, Childhood trauma, Recreational drug use, Angst and hurt/comfort Summary: As soon as he got the chance, Dean left his father behind and went to college. However, he never anticipated that the absence of the person who had disrupted his entire life would make it worse. With the help of his friends, he tries to navigate through the emotional hurricane that comes with complex PTSD.

Celestial | @deservetobesaved

Rating: Mature Word Count: 10585 Main Tags/Warnings: slow burn, mutual pining, fluff, emotional affair, bottom!dean Summary: Dean is in a less than stellar marriage, but he assumes things will work themselves out. At the same time, Mr. Castiel Novak becomes his new co-worker at school and Dean has to rethink everything he thought he had figured out.

Welcome to the Badlands (WIP) | @cr-noble-writes

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 15386 Main Tags/Warnings: graphic violence, dystopian au, fusion, into the badlands au, slow burn Summary: The wars were so long ago, nobody even remembers. Darkness and fear ruled until the time of the Barons, seven men and women who forged order out of the chaos. People flocked to them for protection. That protection became servitude. They banished guns and trained armies of lethal fighters they called Clippers. This world is built on blood. Nobody is innocent here. Welcome to the Badlands.

Profound Kisses | @verobatto-angelxhunter

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 20700 Main Tags/Warnings: Destiel, post 8x07 canon divergent, mutual pining, explicit sexual content, angst with a happy ending, clueless! Castiel, pining!Dean, Top!Dean, Bottom!Cas, slow burn, love confessions, first kiss, french kiss, Sammy knows. Summary: Dean knows he's screwed. He discovers he is in love with Castiel in Purgatory, and now he can't even have the angel in front of him, because he knows it's a one sided love. It’s Valentine's day and Dean tries very hard to hook up as always, but he can't get Cas out of his mind. So he drives back to the motel, drunk, and he finds Castiel trying to help him. Then, when Dean asks Castiel for some experimental kisses and the angel accepts, Dean starts a very dangerous game… finding in Castiel's kisses the most delicious experiences, but also, his own perdition. Will Castiel fall in love with him? Or will he stay emotionless as always?

Hate me, but love me too | @notfunnydean

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 23310 Main Tags/Warnings: Virgin!Dean,f hate spell, hate curse, younger!dean, older!sam, Grace Sharing, First Kiss, First Time, Hate Sex, Dubious Consent, Mildly Dubious Consent, Cas is cursed, (not really MCD but Cas isn't alive in the beginning), Castiel has sex with somebody else in the beginning(and Dean sees it), Heartbreakbut I will fix it! Summary: Dean’s whole life changes when his mother tells him that John isn’t his biological father and he needs to save the world from his sibling Adam, who is the King of Hell. But he can’t do that alone, he needs the best Hunter earth had, Castiel Novak.

Starstruck (WIP) | @peanutbutterjelly-pie

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 40860 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe, Fluff, Slow Burn, Actor Dean, Single Parent Castiel, Pining Summary: From the outside Castiel Novak looks like a regular guy: a good job, two teenage kids, a nice house and a crappy car he’s way too attached to. But there’s one thing no one knows about him: that, over twenty years ago, he used to live next to no other than Dean Winchester – back then a brash and loud-mouthed boy and nowadays a huge movie star and Hollywood’s sweetheart. Castiel never bothered to tell anyone about his childhood friend because frankly, who would believe him? Probably even Dean himself already forgot about his former awkward and weird neighbor, so Castiel seriously doesn’t see any point in mentioning the whole thing ever. But then an interview on national TV happens where Dean reveals way more about his past than ever before … and Castiel - as well as the rest of the world - suddenly realizes that he left a much bigger impact on Dean’s life than he originally thought.

Letter to Dean Winchester (WIP) | @castielsangel-blade

Rating: Mature Word Count: 44182 Main Tags/Warnings: Past Lisa/Dean, Past Aaron/Dean, Past Castiel/Dean, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Mentions of Past Cheating, Mentions of Past Toxic Relationship, Gray Romantic Castiel, Asexual Castiel, Epistolary, Bisexual Dean Summary: Castiel writes and sends a letter to Dean Winchester. He wants closure for the toxic relationship they had in high school.

Falling Apart | @cr-noble-writes

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 49204 Main Tags/Warnings: minor character death, sam deceased when fic starts, alcoholism, drug misuse, addiction, rehab au, soulmate au, flashbacks, ptsd Summary: Sword & Cross Resident Rehabilitation is a last-ditch effort for Dean Winchester to move past the drug and drinking problems he developed to bury his guilt over the fire that killed his brother. Not to mention the wild visions and smoky, sentient shadows that have plagued him his entire life. It's supposed to be the best Savannah has to offer, but one look at the crumbling tile floors and dangling crown mouldings, and Dean has his doubts. Enter Castiel Novak. He’s rude, aloof, and a total dick from the moment they lay eyes on each other but Dean can’t help but feel a mysterious connection to the man. Maybe he really has lost his mind. But when Castiel starts making appearances in Dean’s vivid visions of the past, he knows there is more to their link than meets the eye. Even if Cas keeps telling him otherwise. It seems everyone at Sword & Cross knows what’s going on except for Dean. Trying to conquer his mountain of guilt and doubt and figure out the connection he is certain he shares with Castiel is only made harder by the “accidents” that seem to follow him. Not to mention his attraction to Gadreel. Whatever secret Castiel is trying so hard to keep, Dean knows he has to uncover it.

Will you be my ten inch hero? | @notfunnydean

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 57468 Main Tags/Warnings: Bullying, Homophobic Language, Abusive John Winchester, Canon-Typical Violence, Smut, giving a baby to adoption (not between Destiel), Rape/Non-con Elements, John kicked Dean out, Virgin!Dean, surprise guest appereance, Minor Crowley (Supernatural)/Bobby Singer, Minor Charlie Bradbury/Jo Harvelle, Minor Rowena MacLeod/Gabriel, two surprise pairings, not Ketch or Mick Davies friendly Summary: When John Winchester kicks Dean out, after he saw him kissing another boy, and Dean sees that Sam has a perfect life at Stanford without him, Dean starts a new life in Santa Cruz. He works at a tiny shop as a cook, has found some friends there, and is overall happy enough. That changes when Castiel comes into his shop and his Co-worker Azara, who has a different man every night, starts flirting with him right in front of Dean. Not that he would be jealous or anything, but there is something about Castiel that makes him weak in the knees. Only that Castiel would never want him back, right?

Roll With It | @saltnhalo

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 72818 Main Tags/Warnings: Fake/Pretend Relationship, Boss/Employee Relationship, Secretary Dean, Alternate Universe - Not Hunters, The Proposal AU, Alternate Universe, Romantic Comedy, Romance, Editor Castiel, Fluff and Angst, Sam Winchester at Stanford, POV Alternating, Geek Dean, Russian Castiel, Sharing a Bed, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Top Castiel, Bottom Dean, Misunderstandings, Tattooed Castiel, Love Confessions, Slow Burn Summary: For two years, Dean’s been slaving away beneath his boss – many label him a secretary, but he fucking hates that and feels like it only applies to someone wearing a pencil skirt, so he insists on his title of Executive Assistant. And for what? In the vain hope that one day he’ll manage to become an editor for Sandover Publishing, and that he’ll see the manuscript that he’s slaved over since college finally realized in print. That’s the dream, anyway. Right now, he’s fucking late. Dean wants to be an editor. Castiel just wants to stay in the country. ‘The Proposal’ – as you’ve never seen it before.

When the Magnolias bloom (WIP) | @flurryflair

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 92951 Main Tags/Warnings: slow burn, angst with a happy ending, mutual pining, human!Castiel, divorce, infidelity, middle aged destiel, explicit sexual content, top Castiel/bottom Dean Winchester, top Dean Winchester/bottom Castiel, POV alternating, unresolved sexual tension, denial of feelings, porn with feelings, anxiety attacks, manipulative relationship, unhealthy coping mechanisms, canon-typical violence, case fic, bisexual!Dean, demisexual!Castiel, semi-canon, minor Castiel/OMC, minor Dean Winchester/Lisa Braeden Summary: It's been ten years since the Apocalypse. Ten years without talking, without knowing one another. Castiel has a company to handle and a wedding to plan, Dean has a broken marriage and a decision to make. They have separate lives, lovers and families of their own, they aren't supposed to meet again, to mess it all up. And yet they do, when they least expect it, and maybe when they most need it. A story about second chances, about hope and resilience, and a love that feels both doomed and inevitable.

Unsung Melody (WIP) | @toomanyships-sendhelp

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 177617 Main Tags/Warnings: Canon Character Death, AU Slaves, Slow Burn Summary: Dean runs a busy bar and grill in Lebanon, Kansas. Semi-retired from hunting, he'll still catch a case when one blows his way or the urge to hunt strikes him again. It isnt until a case that opened decades ago claims another victim and Dean has to get back in the game a little more than he expected.

[the-satellite]

Hello friends and welcome to ☆Hateful Nostalgia☆. I was exposed to the mob talker mod WAY too young bc I was an unsupervised child on the internet watching mod showcases and SkyDoesMinecraft. Looking back these sucked, the stories were often bland and the designs were milk toast at best and tits out at worst. So for the sake of procrastinating on working on anything substantial I grabbed the main 6 I remembered and gussied em up. Redesigns, rewrites, better names, all that bullshit. If your interested in better photos, design notes, story details and rambling hit the basement, otherwise here's a line up you should click for better quality.

Also I wrote all this once before already but I deleted it like a dumb bitch. On the night Unus Annus was murdered in front of my eyes no less. Was a rough fuckin night.

The Creeper- Kupa. An explosive pyromaniac with a habit of making empty threats and yelling. She protects what she believes to be her territory with a suicidal passion, but if you manage to get her to cool down and soften up she's pretty sick to hand out with. Hard of hearing, has at least one bout of head trauma at all times, and deathly allergic to cats.

Because the creeper is kinda the og I wanted to reference AT2's design more than the others, but I'm p sure the only thing I actually kept was the red hair and brown gloves. Otherwise I was doing whatever. I really wanted to lean into the explody bit of creepers, so I gave her some bite and dressed her in clothes referenced from Irish railroad workers. This may also be why I keep imaging her with a very heavy Irish or Scottish accent, whichever would be most incomprehensible when angry. Every color but her skin was color picked from one of the references, with some minor alterations for makes my eyes happy reasons.

With Kupa I imagine a story line with her would largely be about her as a character and her development than like an actual adventure narrative like everyone else. She starts off ready to blow up both you and herself in a misguided attempt to defend what she sees as her's and opens up and learns not everyone is out to get her. Lots of time taken to understand her childhood and how she ended up how she is. Very simple, probably the default or tutorial run people would go through.

The Zombie- Bee. The ill husk of a missing explorer suffering from a less than conventional appetite. She wallows in her self imposed loneliness, believing herself to be an irredeemable monster doomed to hurt those around her. What she really needs is a buddy and some clue to who she used to be. Rough voiced, chronically fatigued, and prone to spontaneous combustion in sunlight.

 I definitely consider this one the weakest for design sadly. I imagined Zombies as humans who went into strange caves and caverns and didn't come out for years, only to pop up as completely different people. I just tossed AT2's design. The first thing I did was make her a bit of a genderbent Steve and tinted her green bc Zombies in game are just Steve but green. Tore up her clothes, colored picked the darkest colors I could from the clothes on the in game and boom, Bee. I do vaguely regret not making her eyes pure black but I also still wanted her to be human enough to fit with the other overworld mods.

 Ok so Bee actually has a basic story. When you meet her she's aggressive, but as a warning. She fears the possibility she may hurt somebody so heads for threats immediately. Going back and forth between her cave and village for a while you learn more about the situation with the missing folks who come back and Bee as a person. After a bit you pick her up off her depressed ass and start a nocturnal adventure of refinding your past, adapting to who your becoming, overcoming self destuction, and slow burn babey!!! 

The Skeleton- Ulna. One of the few surviving warriors of a now destroyed kingdom and dead culture. She spends most of her time now traveling alone, hiding in trees and shooting anything see sees as a threat- which is everything- in the face with homemade arrows. Very much suffering from loss of her home and a bad case of lost purpose. A woman of few words, very antisocial, and naturally nocturnal.

 I came in with the Skeleton wanting to make her seem mysterious, so my first thought was immediately a cloak and a mask, but I wanted her face to like be visible so I went with the face paint. I didn't actually know that I wanted to do under there so I went with wraps that are reminiscent of the original outfit but still not tits out bc it's so fucking easy! Gave her a quiver, color picked the cloak and face paint from the in game model and the wraps from AT2'S art. I did like. Subconsciously draw her eyes the way I do Asian characters but I didn't have anything specific in mind so like go nuts with what you think she is.

 Ulna's deal is very much her lack of purpose or home and the entire thing is about finding that again. She's found sitting up in a tree during a storm pointing a bow and arrow into your face. She eventually let's you stick around until the storm is over and theres some bonding into deep night until the rain stops. You ask if she wants to come with on your little travelling sword for hire business, she says sure, sleep schedule shenanigans, backstory angst, and road trip bonding happens and she eventually decides that helping people is her new purpose and you're her new home

The Spider- Park. A young adult experiencing the world for the first time through her tribe's rite of passage. She's really just trying to figure out how to live life outside of the cave she's been stuck in her entire life and aggressively trying to be an independent adult despite not knowing anything about being an independent adult. Its projection. Blind in the daylight, naive and excitable, and taken to refusing help at her own risk.

 Ok so. I don't know who looked at the spider and said "purple haired loli with puffy pants" so I once again yeeted the whole thing, only really keeping the kinda cutesy and childish bits. Spiders are a tribe of humans what live in caves unless they've broken off to live on the surface. Kids are kept inside until they hit a certain milestone, where they come up to explore at night. They're usually small and pale, but are pretty kickass when necessary. Again picked the colors off the in game model, played with the lightest gray for the skin, and bc I couldn't figure out anyway to use the stripes so they're on the patches lol.

 Park's meeting is probably the funniest and most meet cute one here, in that she accidentally drops on top of you from a little cliff drop off. Cue loads of apologies and an explanation about the spider deal and being blind in light. She asks for some help getting around and bam babey friendship and emotional attachment! What follows is kinda a buddy of coming of age story with the obligatory goes home and is miserable scene. Generally it's just about being a scared young adult and having someone to fall back on and why that's important. Also crushes and young people being bad at that.

 The Blaze- Amber. A demonic entity who would let the world burn and the sun die if it meant she'd get her soul back. She's known for being ruthless, taking souls through force instead of making deals like other Blazes. Keeps this forceful nature even once she's become friendly, makes you do dump shit. Territorial, eyes glow and dim with her life, and runs remarkably warm.

 Amber here is the first one I actually did! I was just. Really tired that she was in a bikini. I decided early on I wanted overworld mobs to be human and everyone else was decidedly not, so Blazes are demons who gave up their souls under false pretenses to other Blazes. Because of how little clothes AT2's design wore I had essentially free reign and my thought was immediately to lean on golden knight bc of how Blazes are found protecting fortresses. The gold isn't picked from anything bc I was looser with the colors, but everything else is, and the hair is supposed to represent the smoke. Also the sticks in her hair are blaze rods bc I don't like them just floating around her.

Amber is found in the Nether obviously, protecting a fortress and immediately trying beat your ass and either incinerate you or make you give up your soul. During you prove yourself a p damn good fighter and she makes a deal to show you how Blazes exist and pursade you to give your soul up willingly. Bonding happens and she explains where the souls go and what happened to her. Insert line about how she dug in the sand for her soul until her fingers bleed bc I'm an Arcana freak lol. In general I'd just like her to learn to adapt to who she is now and learning to live life well instead of letting her anger burn her up from the inside out.

 The Enderman- Violet. A confused but sweet young bit of void created by and connected to the Ender Dragon. Her relationship with reality is tenuous at best and abusive at worst, making stable existence rather difficult. She doesn't know a name, age, gender, anything about herself aside from that she likes sweaters. Communicates primarily through psychic connections, docile and sweet, and melts like a witch in water.

 Violet was incredibly easy, so this may be way short. Endermen are decidedly human shaped void from the End with varying sentience. They're direct extensions of the Ender Dragon, and nobody knows how they're made or where they come from, not even they do. Adventurers who escaped The End say they seem scared of it though. Violet in particular is pretty damn new and extraordinary nonconforming, and I tried to show that with her sweater and ponytail. Once again, literally all colors picked. Definitely the simplest but one of my favs.

Violet is the sweetest meet up I think. As your traveling between villages you notice a strange enderman watching you and plant a little flower in front of her. She picks it and you hear a happy little trill come from you and a pretty voice say thank you in your head. Now you have a tall dark teleporting travel buddy! After a little bit of back and forth she tells you in some broken English that the Ender Dragon made her but she doesnt know how, and that it's bad and needs to be killed for the sake of Endermen and that's the new goal. Spoiler they're the corrupted souls of those that died fighting it, with it gone Endermen are free to exist as their own being and do whatever, hurray!

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Handler Todd and 435689: Papers

Here are the results of my live-write exercise! It was super cool! That was a lot of fun and I hope the process was an enjoyable for you guys as it was for me to have you hang out and chat with me while I worked!

CW: Referenced whump of a minor (minor is not whumped during piece). Pet whump, institutionalized slavery. Some gross language regarding said minor. Character is 16. 

“I don’t get it, ‘689.” Todd’s voice was weary, and the boy looked worriedly up at him, struggling to keep up with the taller man’s much longer strides - especially with the way he couldn’t quite put all his weight on his feet leg just now and had to kind of hop-walk down the hall just behind him. “Why bother? You don’t even know that other one’s number, and he had to be at least five years older than you.”

The boy swallowed, hands moving as though they would shove themselves into front pockets, but there weren’t any pockets in the black cloth shorts that were the only pants the boy ever remembered wearing. Finally, he just let them hang awkwardly down at his sides. “Is… is that a question, Handler?” He asked, keeping his voice pitched low.

“What? Yeah, ‘course it is,” Todd said, his eyes scanning the hallways as they walked.

Everything looked the same to the boy - it was always white, and nothing changed. It felt like they went a different way every time they took him somewhere - to the handlers’ training rooms, to the Clean Room where the boy learned to scrub floors until the grout shone white, to the Bad Room.

The handlers didn’t call it the Bad Room - the trainees did.

They kept the Table in the Bad Room.

“What, uh…” The boy cleared his throat, his voice kept trying to shake whenever he had to put his right foot down to walk. The handler didn’t notice, but the boy didn’t mind - they were always hurt, the handlers probably just assumed they were unless they were told otherwise. “What’s the-... the question?”

Handler Todd finally stopped, letting out a low sigh and turning to look down at him. “You are the shortest fucking Box Boy I’ve ever seen, and you’re definitely the youngest. Why’d you stick your neck out for someone who’s bigger, older, and stronger than you? You could’ve been seriously hurt, kiddo!”

The open concern in Handler Todd’s voice felt… so good. It felt so good to hear someone worry about him. Handler Todd was the only one who ever did.

“Well, he… he needed help. He didn’t mean to trip like that, it’s just, you know… we get so cold, here, it’s hard to walk. They shouldn’t have… punished him. It was just an accident.”

“‘689…” Handler Todd sighed again, and something about the way he did it sounded so familiar. It rang a bell in the boy’s mind, warm arms around him and that same soft sigh. He could almost hear a voice that went with it, if he tried.

Almost - but the headache got him, first. The boy winced, and the moment was gone.

“Look. I’m… I’m doing what I can to keep you off the radar of some of the… other guys, but you gotta help me out, here.” Handler Todd put a hand on the boy’s shoulders on either side, and he looked up into Todd’s eyes, his kind face, and he thought, I wish all of us could have handlers like you.

“I don’t like that they hurt us, though,” The boy said, setting his jaw. “That’s not fair.”

I don’t know who gave you that stubbornness, it sure didn’t come from my side of the family.

Headache again. This time, Handler Todd caught his wince and put a hand up to the side of his face, cool and calming. Training took over, and the boy leaned heavily into the touch, pressing his head into it like a cat.

Handler Todd jerked his hand back and away. “Shit. I forgot you guys do that, I’m… I’m sorry.”

“Do what?” The boy blinked, confused. “What… what did I do?”

“Uh… nothing. No, you’re good, ‘689. Look, I figured… I know that you’ve had a rough few weeks, and I thought… I don’t know.” Something passed over Handler Todd’s face, a shadow of sadness the boy didn’t understand. “I thought you could maybe use a break. For a while.”

The boy stepped closer to Handler Todd instinctively, crossing his arms in front of himself. His right leg burned but he forced his weight to rest on it, to prove that he wasn’t as hurt as he looked. The cane wasn’t so bad, there were worse ways you could get punished. “I’m okay,” He said, making sure to put a little hint of a plea there, a whine. The handlers liked when you sounded like you were begging. “I don’t need a break, sir, I’m, I’m okay. I don’t want to go back to my room, I can keep training, I can-”

Handler Todd swallowed and backed slightly away from him, but the boy followed him, trying to press into his space a little, to show that he was fine. “No… hey. No, kiddo. Look, you just-... can you just stay at arms’ length for a sec? I don’t mean go back to your room, I promise.”

“Can I… can I sleep on a mat? In the training room?” The boy brightened at that. That was a special reward, you only got to sleep on the heated mats in the training rooms if you did really, really well that day. The boy couldn’t remember the last time he’d done more than doze, really, he was never good for long enough.

They were always hurting some other trainee, and the boy was always trying to stop them.

“I can do you one better, kiddo,” Handler Todd said, his own expression softening into a slight smile as he saw the hopefulness on the boy’s face. “I can take you outside.” He pointed to a door with a passcode lock at the end of the hallway. It looked exactly like every other door the boy had ever seen, with AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY written on it.

The boy could still read - he knew some of the others couldn’t, any longer, but he could.

“Out… outside?” The boy’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and he gnawed nervously on his lower lip, looking at the door again. It didn’t look like a door to outside… and they all knew that outside wouldn’t ever happen until you were bought. And even then your owner might decide to keep you locked up and that was okay, too, because you only existed the way they wanted you to…

“Truly. I promise. Look, I had to… call in a couple favors to make this happen, but… you’ve earned it, kiddo.” Handler Todd hesitated, that weird sad look on his face again. “Shit, you know, there’s… there’s more of you who deserve a good fucking day outside without any of this bullshit than I, I knew… but fuck. You know?”

The boy blinked at him. There was a silence.

“... right, no you don’t. Okay. Look, I’ll try and explain a bit more once we’re out there, okay? Just close your eyes.”

The boy obediently shut his eyes and lifted his chin, just slightly, but all the handler did was take him carefully by the wrist and lead him down the hall, moving more slowly this time. The chill air that came through the vents, endlessly recycled and recirculated, smelling stale and musty, made the boy shiver. He was never anything but cold here, except when Handler Todd would hug him sometimes. Nobody else hugged him.

Don’t mind us, the weird voice he heard sometimes said, somewhere far back in his mind, behind the wall they’d built inside him. We’re all huggers in this family.

He had to stop this or his headache was going to get really bad. The boy focused on his steps, the twinge of pain up his right leg, the ache in his ribs from getting kicked, the way his back throbbed from being caned there, too. If he focused on the pain they gave him, he could forget the pain in his head, and forget what the pain tried to bring with it.

Handler Todd’s grip on his wrist, though, was warm, and not too tight - Handler Todd never hurt him, ever, even when he was angry and defiant and deserved it - and the boy smiled, faintly, as he was led.

Then he heard the soft beeping of the passcode - three short beeps, two long ones, although he didn’t know why or what it meant - and the metallic sound of Handler Todd turning the long handle on the door.

A blast of heat.

The boy didn’t think he’d ever felt hot air before.

Then the light hit, turning the black behind his closed eyes a kind of brownish red, and the boy flinched back from it, a soft worried sound deep in his throat. “H-Handler-”

“It’s okay, kiddo. It’s okay.” Handler Todd let go of his wrist only to step up close to him, and the boy melted into his side as quickly as he could, chasing the safety. Handlers were safe. They  might hurt you, but it was to make you learn - and besides, Handler Todd never hurt him. He was the safest handler of all of them.

Todd slid an arm around the boy’s shoulders and said softly, “Open your eyes. Blink a few times, kiddo, you need to remember sunlight, it can kind of hurt if you come out from the inside light too fast.”

The boy cracked open one eye, and finally two. The light pierced eyes that hadn’t seen it before, felt hot on skin that was only ever cold, now. The world around him began to come into some kind of focus, and he pushed harder into Todd, worried, eyes darting around at the world outside the Facility.

“Am I… am I allowed out here?” He asked, in a hush.

“No,” Handler Todd said. “So this is our little secret, okay? Just you and me?”

Our little secret.

The boy fought the cold rush of fear at the words. Nobody bothered him, not since Handler Todd started talking to him, but he’d heard handlers say those words before, to the other trainees, and… “What… what kind of secret?”

“Huh?” Todd blinked down at him, confused, then looked back out at the world. “Just don’t tell them I brought you outside, kiddo. I’ll get written up for sure for something like this, and you do not want the Director on your ass for breaking rules. Come on, I want to show you something.”

Todd pulled the boy off to the side, and he stared around himself in wonder. There was a giant parking lot that stretched forever, he thought - or at least until it hit a road, and he could hear traffic but not see it somewhere over that direction. There was a green sign that stood tall above everything else, and the boy squinted at it.

STARBUCKS

What was a Starbucks?

Then they had gone through a small gate to a fenced-in area, and the green sign was gone. Instead… the boy stared around at a small courtyard, with benches and kind of a covered area and grass.

He didn’t realize he had fallen to his hands and knees to feel at the grass until he heard Handler Todd laughing, sort of chuckling to himself, as he closed the gate behind them. “It’s been awhile, huh?”

Grass was spiky but soft, both at the same time. Must’ve rained, the boy thought, and wasn’t sure where the thought came from, only knew that the pain followed in its wake. He slowly laid his head down until his cheek brushed the blades of grass, moving it back and forth, humming to himself.

Handler Todd walked away from him, giving him space, and took a seat up on the table part of a picnic table, pulling a pack of cigarettes and a lighter out. He watched the boy moving slowly over the grass, taking a long drag and then blowing the smoke out thoughtfully. “What do you think?”

“I think you could put a garden here,” The boy said, then winced. “Ow.”

“Yeah, don’t think too hard, kiddo. I know we take that out of you.” Todd sighed, still smoking, taking quick drags. “Shit, my nerves are shot working here these days. I was okay before I realized some of you are so young, but I can’t just… fucking quit, can I?”

The boy realized after a moment’s pause that Handler Todd apparently expected him to answer. He looked up from inspecting a violet, pressing his fingertip against the soft petals, and said, “Can’t you?”

“Ha. Right. My kids need insurance and there’s no company in the state gives a high-school graduate benefits like this. Plus, I mean, you can’t beat the vacation time, the paid time off, I just…” He trailed off, slowly, and looked over at the boy.

Kneeling on the grass holding a violet he’d picked between thumb and forefinger, the boy wore the white shirt and black trainee shorts and the wide-band shock collar around his neck. He blinked at the handler, then looked slowly around himself.

“What? Did I… is something… is something wrong?”

“No… I mean, yes, but not anything you did. Come over here, kiddo.”

The boy jumped instantly to his feet, ignoring the pain that shot up his right leg - push it back in your head, it doesn’t matter, it’s just going to hurt and you just have to find a way to keep going when it does. He moved quickly to Handler Todd and stood in front of him in Position One, sliding instinctively into the straight-backed posture with his hands behind his back, eyes slightly lowered. “Yes, sir?”

“Look. I didn’t actually… bring you out here because you, uh, got punished today. That was kind of… you definitely need to stop throwing yourself in front of other trainees, but… that’s not why we’re here.”

The boy nodded, slowly, confused.

“Look, you, uh… um. Shit. I’m not sure how to say this. I’m not gonna see you much longer, kiddo.”

The boy’s head jerked up, wide brown eyes focusing on the handler’s, searching for some sign that he was joking, or lying. He stepped forwards, dropping onto his knees on the picnic bench, looking up at Handler Todd, who scooted slightly back, putting more space between them. “Did you… are you leaving, sir? B-but… but no one else is nice, you’re-... you’re the only one who’s nice to me, I don’t get to talk to anyone else…”

“Hey, no. I’m not leaving.” Todd stubbed out his cigarette half-smoked and set it aside, then put his hands back at the boy’s shoulders, rubbing at them gently with his thumbs. “I’m not going anywhere, kiddo.”

“But you said-”

“You are.”

The sun shone hot on his back, made the top of his head feel deliciously warm as it soaked into his dark brown hair. He could smell the earth and grass all around him, and even smell Handler Todd’s cologne, sort of strong and he hadn’t liked it at first, but now it meant safety like no other scent did. “... what?”

“You, uh. You got papers, today.” Todd smiled at him, but it was fainter this time, it wasn’t a smile he meant. Papers meant owners, which was good, but Todd didn’t look like it was good. He looked like… like…

He looked like when you found out your grandpa died, and Mom smiled like this when she said, “At least he’s in a better place,” and you wondered what place, and-

The boy pitched forward, groaning as the lance of pain in his head seemed to ricochet through him, throwing his arms around Handler Todd’s waist and holding tight. Handler Todd leaned forward and slid arms around his neck and held him, too, mistaking his pain for fear, murmuring soft comforting things while the boy tried to stop the aberrant thought from digging its claws too deep.

“Who bought me?” He whispered into Handler Todd’s shirt collar, the rough scratchy fabric that he hated but kind of liked, when it was Todd. “What are they like? Are they gonna be nice to me?”

Todd took a deep, deep breath. The boy felt him drawing the air slowly into his lungs, holding it, and just as slowly letting it out. His arms tightened around the boy’s shoulders, drawing him up a little bit so he was standing on his knees on the bench, his head tucked into Handler Todd’s neck. “A man bought you as a gift for his friend.”

The boy nodded, slowly. This was why he was here, what he was made for, to go to an owner at the end of training. He should be happy about it, but he felt cold, instead. Scared to leave Todd, and scared to leave the white room and the hallways, scared to leave the rules he knew and go live in a new place with new rules he didn’t.

“I’m still… I still get to be a Domestic, right?”

“Right. You’ll be her Domestic. Just like we talked about, just like training.”

“But… I’m not done with training.”

That deep breath again. The boy pulled back, chanced a look up at Todd’s face, and caught an odd glittery look in his eyes. “I know,” Todd said gently. “I know you’re not. But the, um. The order was to send someone… unfinished.”

Confusion, again. Pets weren’t supposed to ask questions, but the boy was pretty bad at remembering that rule, and Todd never punished him for talking too much like the others did, so… he thought it was safe to ask one more. “Why?”

Todd opened his mouth to answer, then closed it again. “You’re a fighter,” Todd said, finally. “You fit the profile. Young, dark brown hair and brown eyes, pale skin, and… defiant. The man who bought you wants to give his friend a, uh… someone who will be defiant to her.”

“I don’t… I don’t understand,” The boy said, in a voice just above a whisper. “We’re not supposed to be defiant. I’m, I’m bad when I talk back, it’s bad that I can’t stop… why… why would they want-”

“Look,” Todd cut in, and the boy flinched, ducking his head down. “Shit, I’m sorry. No, I didn’t mean to sound mad. I’m not mad, kiddo, I promise. Hey. Hey, look at me. Look up at me.” The boy slowly raised his eyes, and Todd took his chin in his fingers, keeping his head tilted up to make eye contact. His voice went low, and soft. “I’m not mad at you. This just… I’m just mad that you’re being sent off on purpose when you’re not done, and that my complaint went nowhere and I’m kind of worried about some shit I didn’t realize was in my contract, and… I’m not mad, I promise.”

“Is it that I get to finish learning with my owner? Is that why?” The boy guessed, and thought maybe he’d guessed right when the shadow passed over Todd’s face again, and he didn’t answer. He just pulled the boy in closer and held onto him. The faint smell of cigarette smoke clung to his shirt and his skin, and the boy kind of liked it, on him.

“Yeah,” Todd said, finally, resting his chin on the boy’s hair. “Yeah, I’m sure that’s it. Maybe she just wants one-on-one, she hasn’t… done that in a long time. She probably doesn’t know how young you are. Shit, no, she does. I’m sure she does, because she knew they did that to you, she knew it and she told me I was making too big a deal out of nothing… fuck.” He sighed, and the boy wondered how many ways there were to sigh, because it felt like Todd knew all of them.

“So it’s, it’s a woman?” The boy frowned, trying to piece together what Handler Todd was saying, but none of it made any sense. A man bought him for a woman, because he wasn’t done, because he was defiant, but the woman knew about it, and knew about… something…

When the boy tried to think about it too much, the headache threatened around the edges, along with an awful rolling fog. He closed his eyes tightly, and forced himself to forget.

“Yeah… well, kind of. Or some kind of fucking predatory lizard wearing a person suit,” Todd muttered, bitterly.

“... what?”

“Nothing. Nothing, kiddo. I just, you know, I don’t… know what it’s going to be like, when you go home for the first time. So I thought maybe you would, uh, just like to see somewhere kind of nice for a while. But, hey, she’s already got two others, so you’ll have friends, right?”

The boy knew the answer to this one, and the words rolled instantly off his tongue, effortless and easy. “Pets don’t make emotional connections with other pets, they are designed to connect with their owners to the exclusion of-”

“Okay, okay, okay, quit it. I don’t need to hear that. I know you know it. But that’s a lie, pets get attached to each other all the time. We don’t like the owners to know it, but…” Todd shrugged. “Talk to your other ones, when you get there, okay? They’ll help you settle in and learn what to… what to expect. From her.”

The boy nodded, relieved. He could learn from them, and maybe he could be good enough that whoever she was would like him.

“Hey, um… sir?” He twisted his fingers into Todd’s shirt, slipping into the space between two buttons along the front and feeling the rough cotton against his fingers. “Can I… can I ask… something?”

Todd didn’t move away from him, this time, and the boy had never felt so warm in his life - being held by someone in the sunshine, out in the fresh air. He was warm inside and out, even with his fear, even not knowing who he would go to.

But you had to go to someone eventually.

What else was he even made for, if not that?

“Sure, kiddo. Fire away.” Todd’s eyes kept skipping down to the half-smoked cigarette, itching to pick it back up and light it again. The boy followed his gaze, frowning slightly, and then he pulled back, reaching across Todd’s leg to pick up the cigarette himself.

Handler Todd stared at him as the boy picked up the lighter, too, and flicked it open, thumb effortlessly pressing the little pad there just right to bring up the flame. “Since when do you fucking know how to do that?”

The boy put the end of the cigarette against the flame, then blinked and looked up. “I don’t know.”

Todd took the cigarette, and laughed - but it was barely a sound, and hardly a smile, and the boy didn’t really think it was a laugh he meant at all.

“Ask me your question, kiddo. What’s up?”

“Do I, um.” He watched the cloud of smoke as Todd exhaled, stinging his eyes and making the boy cough. Todd apologized, clapping his back until he hit a sore spot and the boy winced at that, too. Finally, his voice a little strained, the boy said softly, “Do I still get to see you, when I go home?”

Todd was silent.

In a tree nearby, a bird sang, and the boy thought, yellow bird with black wings, 9 letters, starts with G. Ow.

“... no, kiddo,” Todd finally said, and when the boy’s mouth trembled a little in response, Todd kept his eyes firmly turned away. “That’s not… that’s not how it works. Look, I shouldn’t have been doing this anyway. Half my coworkers think I’m fucking you, for Christ’s sake.”

“... half your coworkers don’t have much r-room to talk,” The boy said, and felt heat burning behind his eyes when Todd looked at him, surprised, and smiled.

“Shit, kid. I think when you come in so young you’re more resilient, more of you sticks. Hold onto that for me, yeah? Maybe… maybe her other ones will be nice, that’d be good for you. Look, I… I’m sorry this shit turned out the way it did. I wouldn’t work here if I’d have known they were taking you guys in against your will. Not that me not working here would fix your problems…”

“I, I want you working here, though,” The boy said quickly, a little desperately. “You’re nice to me, nobody else is nice to me. I want there to be nice people here, for us.”

Todd groaned and leaned forward, slowly resting his head on the boy’s shoulder. The boy held onto him tightly, tears burning in his eyes even though he was supposed to be happy, because… because Handler Todd had made things a little better, and he kind of didn’t want to go home.

“It’d be easier for you all if none of us were,” Todd mumbled without raising his head. “Jesus fuck, kid, this job is fucking killing me. I’m helping you kids out the best I can, but there’s nothing I can do, and I hate that I can’t… just go, either. I just… I can’t think of anyone worse than the goddamn Director to own a kid as good as you.”

The boy’s heart froze.

“... the Director?”

Clicking heels on cold tile floors. Awful eyes, that bright red hair. Smiles that never seemed like more than muscles moving to try and fake an expression she didn’t really feel. Black cane in hand with a silver tip.

Are we going to have a problem, 435689?

“... shit,” Todd said, just as the boy pulled back, jerked himself back all at once, lost his balance and collapsed backwards off the bench onto the ground, scrambling back in a panic. “Shit, I wasn’t supposed to-... I shouldn’t have said that, I’m sorry, kid, shit-”

“The, the… the, wait, no-... but, but she can’t-...” The boy’s throat constricted, he could feel the way she looked at him, the weight of her eyes because she only showed up when he was at his worst and then, and then… “The Director is who I go to?”

The fear built and built and built inside of him, pressure that threatened to shred him apart, and finally the pressure broke. The boy curled in on himself in the grass and opened his mouth in a scream, but he couldn’t find the breath to make the sound.

Everyone was scared of the Director - everyone.

In a place where everyone hurt you, the Director hurt you the worst.

He made the face into the ground, he didn’t know for how long, trying to breathe in the scent of the soil and the grass again to calm himself, but all he could think of was the Table, when he was really bad and kept hurting handlers trying to get out, and they brought her.

Click, click, click click, heels on tile floors, and some of the boys that went with her never came back to their rooms.

Todd gently laid a hand on his back, and the boy jerked back and away from him with a cry, half-convinced it was her, only to look up into Todd’s worried, kind eyes.

Not kind enough to save him.

“I’m sorry, kiddo, I shouldn’t have told you.”

“I don’t want to go with her,” The boy whispered, and was surprised to find there were already tears on his face. He wiped at them hurriedly with grass-stained fingers, leaving a little green streak along one cheekbone. “I don’t want to be owned by her. I don’t want-”

Todd glanced up and beyond him, out towards the parking lot, and his jaw set in a grim line. Then he looked back at the boy and said, in a slightly harsher voice, “Want isn’t important for you.”

“Hey, Todd, what you got in there?” Another handler’s voice called, too close, and the boy flinched forwards into the arm Todd slid effortlessly around him.

“Just snuck this one out for a while,” Todd said, a smile in his voice, a mean one. The way the other handlers smiled. “Gets a little loud in there, you know? Plus, I needed a cigarette and I wanted something to look at while I smoked.”

“Ha, fair enough. You better get back in, though, we’re due for one of those meeting things again.” The other handler swung the little gate to the courtyard open, and the boy cringed back into Handler Todd’s side at the look in his sparkling dark eyes. “Oh, pretty one. I’ve never seen him before.”

“You don’t exactly work with these, Manning. Come on, let’s get inside. I’ll drop him off at his room.” Todd got to his feet, pulling the boy up after him.

The other handler grinned at the sight of the boy pressed against Handler Todd’s side, staring at him with frightened eyes. “Didn’t have you pegged for this to be your type, Todd.”

“Yeah, well. You don’t know shit about me, Connor,” Todd snapped, pulling the boy right past him to head for the door. “Next time, don’t interrupt me with one of them, yeah?”

“What the fuck ever, man. Don’t get so fucking testy.” Connor gave a low wolf-whistle, then laughed when the boy flinched again at the sound. “He’s neat. Man, I would happily pull overtime for that-”

“He’s sixteen years old, Manning,” Todd said flatly.

There was a long silence.

“Okay, never mind that. I’m fucked up but I’m not that fucked up. I mean. You are, but-”

“Shut up.” Todd pulled the boy back inside, closing the door behind them right in the other handler’s face. “There, now he’ll have to go around to the front.” He turned to look at the boy, tilting his head, lifting his hand to wipe the grass stain away with his thumb. “You okay, kid?”

“No,” The boy said, in a very small voice. “I don’t… I don’t think I’m okay.”

“Yeah… that’s probably not the smartest question I could ask.” The air was already beginning to chill the boy’s skin, wiping away the warmth he’d had from the sun and from Handler Todd’s arms around him. He’d felt safe, for just a second, and now he felt like he was about to be pushed off a cliff. “I guess what I mean is… is there anything I can do for you, before you go back to your room?”

“Help me,” The boy said, softly, looking up searchingly into Todd’s eyes, grabbing onto his shirt again. “Help me not go to her. I don’t, I don’t want to go home with the Director. Get me s-someone else, someone else can, can buy me, right? Someone else?”

“Man already paid his balance upfront,” Todd said softly. “It doesn’t work that way. I’m sorry.”

The boy felt goosebumps break out over his skin, the first real shiver of chill from being back in the frozen air. He hadn’t realized until Todd had brought him outside what it even felt like to not be shivering anymore.

Suddenly, the boy hated Todd more than anything, for taking him out there and then telling him he was going home with the Director. Todd had ruined the sun, and the grass, and the bench and the sign across the street, he had ruined all of it.

Why be nice if you were only going to do the worst thing of all?

“I want to go back to my room,” The boy said, lips moving numbly, pushing sound out, but he was only dimly aware of it. “Take me, take me back to my room, please.”

“Are you sure? I could maybe get you time for a nap while we do our meeting, on the training mats-”

“I want to go to my room,” The boy said again, his chest tight and heavy, heart pounding. “I want to, I want to be alone in my room now, please. Please just, just take me back to my room, I want to go to my room, I want-...”

I want to go home.

I don’t want to be here.

I don’t want this.

I want my life back.

“Kid, calm down, it’s not going to be that bad-... no, shit, that’s not-... fuck. Okay. Look, if you just-”

“Fuck you!” The boy shouted the words, and heard them echo down the hall, before he even understood he had spoken. He clapped his own hands over his mouth, eyes wide as he stared up at Todd, breathing in gasps.

Todd stared at him wide-eyed. He didn’t look mad, or even upset. He just looked… surprised. “What?”

The boy’s hands slowly dropped when no punishment seemed to be coming, and he swallowed, hard. “I, I said… I said… I said fuck you. You, you think you’re nicer but y-you’re not, because you… you just-... you make me remember people can be nice but you don’t help me!”

“I, I can’t, kid, I have to think about my family-”

“I had a family, too!” Todd grabbed at him and the boy tried to push away, but the handlers were always so strong, and he was crushed against Todd whether he liked it or not, trying weakly to push back, finally giving up and burying his face into Todd’s shirt, feeling it go slowly damp as he cried. “I had a family, too, why do you get a family but I don’t?”

“Shit,” was all Todd said.

But he held him, and it wasn’t nearly enough, but it was something.

They stood there - the boy didn’t know how long - until his crying calmed down, until he was breathing the smell of cigarette smoke and cologne and it was a good smell, the only good smell here, and the boy didn’t feel any better for shouting.

He just felt… empty.

And scared.

“Will you still come visit me and, and be my handler, until I… go?”

He felt Todd nod against his hair, the arms around him tighten again. “Yeah, kiddo. I will. I’ll be the last handler you see before they put you in your box, okay? I promise.”

The boy didn’t feel any better to hear it. But at least he didn’t feel worse.

“I don’t want this to be my life,” He whispered.

“Yeah… yeah. I know. Come on, let’s get you settled back in, if I’m late my supervisor will have my ass handed to me on a plate.”

I don’t give a fuck about your supervisor.

The boy kept his thought behind his teeth, because you weren’t supposed to talk back, or complain, or be sad. You just were.

“Look, what’s… what’s something you want that I can get you, huh? I’ll bring it to you after the meeting’s over?” Handler Todd began to help him move back down the hallway, keeping a hand on his lower back, the only part of him that felt warm when he walked.

He could ask for pain medicine for his leg, or he could ask for a pillow - he hadn’t been good enough for one, but…

There was only one thing he wanted.

“Can I have a granola bar?”

“Yeah, sure, kid. That’s all you want?”

No.

I want my fucking mom back.

[problematic-nova]

This time, my rantings on the morgue scene. I know I'm far from the first person to say "what the fuck" to this one, so a slightly different flavor of commentary on chapter 2. AKA, "the only thing worse than what John did to Sherlock is what the writers did to John's character:"

In a more well-constructed narrative with a coherent arc in mind, I actually think the could've worked. It shows very well how abuse actually /starts/, in several ways. We all have the stereotypical image of a battered wife getting beaten for burning dinner in our heads, but this shows how that cycle actually starts: John, when in an extremely tense situation, under huge amounts of pressure, after unresolved trauma after unresolved trauma was heaped on him, snapped. The first ~three times he hits Sherlock there, it's even because he genuinely is trying to stop Sherlock from hurting somebody else. But then he snaps, and then he can't stop. It escalates further. Abuse is almost never a final, end destination, it's an escalation from minor slights into the more and more unacceptable, and that's what TLD is. It's the end point of the escalation, in how John/the narrative has treated Sherlock as more and more an acceptable target for physical violence:

1. There's the little fist fight in Scandal in Belgravia, played as little more than a shoving match, and instigated by Sherlock. If John needs to be forgiven for that one, then so does Sherlock. Then there's the violence in The Empty Hearse: less lighthearted, less funny, less 'acceptable'. But John was a heartbroken, griefstricken, furious mess, and Sherlock and even Mary were stepping on him at every turn. The violence was unacceptable here, because violence is always unacceptable, but the situation John was in wasn't exactly one that's comparable to real life and the way he was feeling is something none of us can even imagine. It's not okay, but it is very easily forgivable.

2. Then, there's HLV. John never hits Sherlock, here, but he does threaten to, when they're all in the flat together after the shooting. This time, it's absolutely not played for laughs. John threatens to beat Sherlock unconscious, because John is angry, and Sherlock is a convenient target for it-- a Sherlock that John knows is already in huge amounts of pain and is extremely unwell. Sherlock even flinches when John shouts at him. Once again, John is in an unbelievable situation under incredible amounts of stress-- and once again, the narrative seems to suggest that John would be justified. Most alarming, though, is that this time, the stress John is under is not at all Sherlock's fault. But John still threatens to hit him for it, at a point where that could, quite literally, kill him. And while this episode makes John look like a bloody awful and incompetent trauma surgeon in multiple ways (likely because of lack of care in writing the script), in this Watsonian perspective, John knows it. He threatens it anyway.

3. And then we get to TLD. Once again, we have John in large amount of pain and under stress, and once again, we have a very unwell Sherlock. This time, it's not a threat: we have John kicking a completely unresisting Sherlock on the floor until he's coughing up blood. I don't think I need to prove my point about this one.

I don't think I need to prove the point that it's unacceptable, either. If John had treated Mary this way-- Mary, who was canonically very capable of defending herself, and had hurt John very deeply, and done horrible things-- then nobody would question it as abuse. Sherlock being a man does not change that the way John treats him is unacceptable.

My point in laying all that out is that, in a more coherent narrative, that focuses on John's unresolved trauma, specifically his grief and pain after the fall and never getting the true explanation and apology he deserved, and then being treated to a very similar trauma by Mary's deception, this is an arc that actually makes sense. He escalates into the more and more unacceptable, dragged on by trauma of his own, until he crosses the line into abuse. It is a believable and honestly accurate depiction of the cycle of abuse and trauma-- and it's also not unforgivable. TLD is the first time he truly crosses that line, and in a more coherent narrative, TLD could've been the turning point in both their arcs. It could've been where John realized what he'd done, and promised to do better. It could've been where John confronted Sherlock and told him "no, all these plans of yours that just focus on you risking your life and getting hurt don't help me; if you really want to be a good friend to me, /take care of yourself/'. Sherlock and John could've finally had a face-to-face about Reichenbach, Sherlock's hiatus, and Mary's death.

We all know that that wasn't the narrative that we got. Instead, the narrative itself seems to be thoroughly convinced that the beating was justified. Not even because of John's unresolved issues about the fake suicide, because that was never even once mentioned-- but just because Sherlock is Weird and A Cock and says mean things sometimes, it was deserved. That, despite John trying to insist to us otherwise, Sherlock really is a machine, and isn't affected at all: not by being tortured in Serbia, not by being Mary's shooting target, and not by being John's punching bag. Greg, Sherlock's police officer friend that dropped literally everything to call a helicopter when he thought Sherlock needed help, didn't seem to think it was a big deal. Mycroft, and, of all people, MRS. HUDSON, didn't seem to even care. It was literally never addressed again, by anyone. In the Hug Scene, the scene I was expecting to be an apology, /John/ even ends up being comforted by /Sherlock/, with NO MENTION of the beating whatsoever.

The only conclusion to draw is that the narrative agrees with Sherlock: John was entitled.

The beating, if handled properly, could've been a believable reaction to trauma, and if handled properly, it could've been a forgivable one. Instead, it turned into something that betrayed the entire premise of the show. It says that Sherlock probably deserves whatever he gets because he's just a heartless bastard, and he isn't affected by it because he's a machine, and meanwhile, for all that he's meant to be "the heart", John apparently has just given up being a friend and simply beats Sherlock to make him behave. It says that these two bring out the worst in each other and honestly probably shouldn't be in the same room ever again.

Obviously, I'm rejecting that premise in this fic. But it's the story that canon gave us, and that instead of addressing it, TFP swept it all under the rug for the sake of some sort of ridiculous twist ending.