#still can't catch me dead rendering skin

[neff-zhul]

art trade with beloved @lichymograine! the lad Grom

[pruneunfair]

Ranking all the OI I read. Part 1: the lesser.

It'll be like my tier list except with added stories from the haven't read yet section and of course my opinions.

Since Tumblr only allows 30 images per post and a daily pass based on how many pictures can be posted at all. I'll be posting this list through multiple parts starting with the worst. Get ready because there's gonna be a lot of negativity right now.

Starting with the tier I like to call "Absolute dog shit." Terrible plots, gross content being glamourized and little to no potential at all.

honestly picking the worst of the worst was hard cause there's so many to choose from.. and I think the title of the absolute worst doesn't go to Remarried empress or Today the villainess has fun again..

Its this one: beware of the brothers

I really can't say I was surprised 😭. I mean.. look at the damn title. The FL gets adopted into the family because she looks like the ML's dead sister and it just.. escalates into step-bro love. "But it's not related by blood-" still incest and even if they didn't grow up together, WHY WOULD YOU WANT TO FUCK SOMEONE WHO LOOKS LIKE YOUR DEAD SIBLING!?

The order of slave breeding

Yes this is an actual manhwa.. I genuinely wanna know why the author just looked at themselves in the mirror and said "Yes this is a good idea." As the title suggests.. it's about a slave merchant for a FL and her slaves falling in love with her and as if it couldn't be uncomfortable enough it is one of the few manhwa with a dark skinned ML. I don't care how many times they'll offer excues for the lead I don't fw slavery being used as a romance device in media.

I belong to house Castillo

Technically I didn't read all of it, I just read the spoilers for the rest of the chapters but to be fair, I just got finished cursing myself by reading stepbro fantasies and master/slave ships, I'm not trying to give my FBI agent a reason to search my hard drives. It's a basic and cliché found family where the FL Estelle is sold by her mother to her father and the ML is a 17 year old who basically grooms her..why? Because raising your love interest is the "only" way to make a story stand out amongst the other generic found family tales.

I tamed my ex husband's mad dog.

More cases of grooming except this time it's the FL as the perpetrator. ML looks like he's 8 but he's apparently 16.. so we got a groomer protagonist in the form of Reinhardt who also neglects her first child and favors her second child she had with her victim with the excuse of not wanting to care for her son being that he looks like her toxic ex. Lady what? That boy deserves his own villain arc holy shit.

No more turning a blind eye.

This one really dissapointed me 😔. The cover looked stunning, the artstyle while a little off was still eye catching and the title sounded promising. Nah this is a hunk of junk that had a gentrification plot for some reason.. and you were supposed to sympathize with the guy who wanted to render hundreds of people homeless to make room for art galleries or whatever it was they wanted?

The dragon kings bride

I already knew this one was probably gonna suck judging by the title. First off it treats dark skinned people like barbarians, the ML Hakan meets Lucina when she's a child, Lucina is threatened with death if she doesn't marry him and you can probably guess where it goes. Like I said I don't really have a right to be shocked but it still goes on the list for its weird obsession with Lucina being so tiny that having sex with Hakan could kill her along with a not so hidden pregnancy fetish.

I became the tyrants secretary.

Its just workplace sexual harassment, theres not much to it. Cannot stand the ML who is a basic garbage human and Rosalyn is a block of wood when it comes to personality. She wants to do all these things but she has no spine and no will to actually do them but at the same time shes so good at everything on a whim. I usually don't mind a clueless FL but Jesus christ! She makes Adrien Agreste look smarter!

The villains savior

Gotta say the artstyle is really pretty and the FLs design is so cute. Everything else though is pretty bad. The point is basically the lead Ezlay is trying to essentially "fix" the ML as the title suggest. A lot of people dislike this one because Ezlay is very emotional and cries too much but that's honestly the least of the issues here. Now to be fair, Aseph is a villain so it's expected that he's gonna suck but that doesn't mean Ezlay needs to have the personality of a rock either, it's not that she cries a lot that annoys me, she's literally just a male fantasy personified. All she is absolute patience and acceptance for what Aseph does to point of enabling that toxic behavior.

Now we enter manhwas that are horrificly awful, not much difference except these ones have a bigger grain of potential

Lucia

This one got a lot of hate tiktok so naturally I had to read it and yeah, it was pretty bad. The artstyle though just.. I'm sorry but Lucia's face is literally just 👁 👄 👁 and thats not even mentioning the ML Hugo. It's really crinegy and it tries to fill that void with poorly made smut. The plot is also really and I mean REALLY dead set on 1950s values for women and the relationship between Lucia's and Hugo is downright toxic. In fact I don't even think there's a plot.. it's just porn. The only reason it's not in dogshit tier is that it's so iconic for being awful that it deserves to be higher up.

When the villainess is in love.

Okay all I can give this one is that Libertia has a better character design than Lucia. She's a mary sue but at this point that's a lot of leads nowadays so it's not a total shock but this is definitely a case where the story would be so much better if it was the actual Libertia as the protagonist instead of a carbon copy of the ogfl taking over. The worst part though is the fashion and I normally do not care about how dresses look in OI as long as they at least look good and fit the setting.. and dear God a lot of those dresses are nightmares to look at. Thankfully I had heard the novel was better.

Today the villainess has fun again

not a fan of the protagonist. Reilynn is really insufferable to follow since she's basically just an entitled asshole who thinks that just because she got transmigrated as the wealthiest woman in the land that she must be in the right because she's not like Iris who is a basic pick me girl. Beyond the fact that watching her throw money at people to get past an obstacle without effort she's also heavily written as a pedo because out of her options which had 2 green flags her age, she chooses the slave she bought who acts and looks like a 10 year old boy with attachment issues.

Try begging

what is with Solche and their weird obsession with rapist male leads? It's somehow worse then cry or better yet beg. Basically the FL Sally/Grace is a spy and when the ML Leon finds out.. he basically tortures her and SA's her multiple times and somehow they fall in love. Do with that what you will, the only slack I will kind of give Try begging is that it at least warns you of what your getting into beforehand. I really hate that Solches writing actually has so much potential to be amazing yet they use their talents to make rape fetish content. I want to know why manhwa tiktok likes this so much, they're all about girl code until a rapist looks hot (Leon isn't even hot, hes mad ugly)

Abandoned empress

Ah yes, good ol abandoned empress, the manhwa communities favorite punching bag so it's only right it lands here. For all the writers out there if your making a character you'd want the readers to support as the love interest you typically would give them an interesting personality and to tone down anything you think is too much for a healthy relationship. Abandoned empress decides to do the opposite of that and even after scenes of Ruve abusing his wife Aristia by cheating on her, beating her, SA'ing her, killing her dad, and causing her to miscarry so you would naturally think "okay clearly Ruve is the antagonist." But instead they pulled some bullshit "but he's not doing it anymore because he was poisoned in the last timeline!"... what!? Were there any new writers by any chance because how did we go from a abusive monster to a misunderstood Lil guy? I would say more but I think everyone already agreed a long time ago Abandoned empress is ass.

Revenge on the real one

the protag is essentially those villainesses in regression stories that cause the heroines initial downfall. I was already aware of what would happen before I even read and let me tell you it was accurate. The protagonist Helga is AWFUL. The torture she puts Hillian through is overkill and at this point Hillian deserves her own regression story to stand up to Helga because my girl was not that bad for her sister to ruin her life because of a stupid tragic origin story. The worst part is the Helga fans I see on places like tiktok who just don't want to admit their FL is a bad person. "Oh but Helga past was so sad! It's not her fault she's like this." Don't mean she has to banish her sister from her own nation when Hillian was innocent.

Villain Dukes precious one.

I really dislike the reincarnated as a baby trope and I can only ever tolerate it when it's just for a few little chapters. They always feel like those weird ass Elsagate videos with embarrassing humor to come across as funny and this one is no different. Even after the FL grows up the plot is still bland and cringe inducing. I don't have a lot to say about this one other then it is weird as hell. Apparently it also got a little incest-y so no thanks!

Poisonous Lily

While the characters looked basic in terms of design the title sounded intriguing. Unfortunately the translation is horrible, they can't even get the whole Lily flower theme right on the tapas version by giving her tulips to carry on her wedding. The dialog is..interesting to say the least. I won't lose it too much though on this one though since I'm pretty sure this is a lower level book trying to make it out in a sea of over advertised manhwa

I thought my time was up.

You know those porn/no plot tags on ao3? That's basically ITMTWU in a nutshell. Within only 20 chapters, the male lead Asrahan is already obsessed with Lariette after chapters of her violating his personal space to force a relationship between them. The whole magic plot is pushed to the side, Asrahans curse isn't allowed to be an actual rotting flesh curse like it's described as cause he's still gotta be pretty, and the rest of the plot is basically just soft core porn and fanservice that does little to actually move whatever is left of the plot.

For my derelict favorite.

The. Hypocrisy. How is this book gonna make the entire message about deconstructing main character centered morality and then almost immediately backpeddaling with justifying Hestia for attacking a woman who doesn't know her for rejecting her favorite man and proceeding to just ruin her day whenever she can. Hestia would say "im not like other girls." Hestia would be an avid fan of those trust fund baby GMV. Hestia would put her hair in a messy bun, shit on whatever is popular and act like she's making a statement . Even calling her Hestia feels like straight up disrespectful to the real goddess of the hearth who funnily enough is known as one of the most chill Greek gods.

Marry my husband

now Marry my husband is not insanely problematic wheras it's just cliché, predictable and in general pretty bad. It is a fast food manhwa designed to fulfill the classic top boss takes good care of you fantasy so naturally a lot is put on hold to showcase the sweet relationship between the central characters and almost everyone needs to have a lover. It's so bad it's actually kinda funny because the villains are so cartoonishly evil for office workers. Sumin is out here speaking in 3rd person, dressing in clothes found in the little kid section of Walmart and makes comical comments about her desire to ruin Jiwons life, Minhwan is basically a borderline discord mod who casually killed jiwon in the first timeline and goes "Oh well." and there's this random ugly old man who's name I can't remember who's the only one interested in Sumin till the end because he basically wants em younger without the risk of going to federal prison.

Remarried empress

I don't think i need to explain much at this point, if you know my account then you already know how I feel about remarried empress. Season 1 was pretty good though.

Divorcing my tyrant husband

I think we all know at this point that's whenever a title has the word "divorce" 9/10 of the time there is never going to be divorce and it'll devolve into the FL changing her mind and staying with her trashy ex husband because he now decided that Robelia wasn't like other girls and left his mistress in the dust. The plot kinda started getting out of hand when Robelias love interests expanded to one of her obsessed slaves and a Duke to prove that Alexandros was the better option. The villian Aisha is a joke who gets her ass handed to her over and over because "damsel woman always bad." and the art starts to lose its touch. I usually don't mind when artstyle changes but dear God do some of these characters look a Lil fugly.

Cry or better yet beg.

The final story that is in the awful section, why? Because it has the most lost potential. As terrible as this CoHo equivalent is, it details the very realistic parts of being a mistress to a nobleman. In most other stories, the mistress is an evil wench who could easily back out but in cry or better yet beg, Layla is unable to escape Matthias's abuse because it could risk her uncles job. There's a lot to this manhwa and novel that could've made a tragic story about a girl trapped in an abusive relationship with little help, the art is gorgeous and the characters for the most part were well written. It's a real shame that it turned out to be a rape apologist work instead.

next up are the mediocre manhwas, finally there will a little more positivity.

The villainess is a marionette

its.so.boring! This one was hyped up all over the place on Instagram and tiktok and the art looked stunning so I gave it a shot. This is definitely one of those stories that only got popular because of its art in my opinion because the plot is so confusing. Events are happening left and right, the pacing goes from too fast to too slow, characters personalities and traits keep warping, and while this might just be the result of poor adaptation her brother comes across as incestuous a couple of times. while Cayena isn't the worst FL, she's a mary sue by all definitions. Sorry but it's a bunch of jumbled wires. The reason it earns a spot in "it's okay" is because I heard the novel like usual is better so it might not be the fault of the original author

I was the male leads ex

It wasn't bad just boring but a little less boring then the former I'll give it that. The artstyle looked prettier in the beginning so that was kind of sad to see it change in later chapters. What drew me to keep reading was the chance that the ogfl Julianna may not be evil but even a potential love interest. So I got excited and apparently there's the idea that Julianna is actually her brother in disguise which.. would just ruin it tbh, there goes any chance at a ogfl being a human being and not a plot device. Not a huge fan of Erica or really any of the love interests.

From maid to queen

This is the newest of the lineup I read and it was actually interesting for once to see a new story where the MC was the concubine. First off the maids feel less like women employed to do the chores of the palace and more like the cartel 😭, in early chapters whenever Urania is aiming to be the concubine, being lazy with her job or getting comfortable with a powerful man in general they're already out with sticks ready to ruin her day and they even try to kill her. Lot of people don't like that Urania isn't a girls girl but honestly I can't blame her for wanting more out of life then poverty, where she comes across as stupid is that she's still wanting that role even after it got her killed last time. I think that it could work though since it shows that urania is more human and not a perfect goddess of a woman however that does not make up for the shit world building (like what the hell was that mushroom that could turn into a perfect still corpse of you 💀)

The villainess maker.

Ill admit I'm a little harsh on this one on my tier list. The plot still isn't great but there are so much worse out there so it ended up moving up on the list due to default. The plot is mostly just bland and generic down to all the characters and the tropes. Ayla is a girlboss in the villainesses body, Charlotte is a super "revolutionary" kind girl turned wicked wench and the ML is another "touch her and I'll kill you" type. What i will give the Villainess maker is the distinct artstyle. It's not as stylized and while it does get lazy at the end it still is very recognizable.

Abellas dessert shop.

Its another extremely underrated manhwa that's another isekai about a wronged woman looking to move on from her shitty fiancé and start a dessert shop. Ngl the moments where Abella is forced to put on a kind face despite her cheating fiancé or her ex friend popping in is definitely relatable especially in the workforce. Still a little bland but wholesome.

I didn't mean to seduce the male lead.

Eleanor is the FL hired to convince the ML to accept women into his life with the hopes that he will fall in love with the ogfl Irene. Tbh this one can get very icky with how it tries to force the notion that you must fall in love but the guy just instantly falls in love with Eleanor so.. I guess that's a little better? Regardless though i will not fault this manhwa too much because unfortunately the author died before the story was over so it deserves a little slack since it never got the chance to be more. Rest in peace author.

Who made me a princess.

Ill be straight with this now: it's Mid. Objectively the story isn't too terrible and I do find Athy a good protagonist not to mention my love for Jennete but everything else is pretty "meh." Not a huge fan of Claude from his design to his personality, the ML is another case of a grown as immortal meeting his wife when she's still a child (theres a little credit ill admit for Athy being mentally a grown woman but that doesnt stop me from thinking its uncomfortable to acknowledge) It can be cute sometimes and I'll give it that but I don't think I'll ever reread it, just not for me.

Actually I was the real one

Good god this was such a bastardization of the original novel. With that said I'll admit i was still entertained reading it since you could say that the novel wouldn't be an instant cheat sheet to learn what was gonna happen. Still it could've at least tried to be a loyal adaptation. They give Keira 2 options to choose as a love interest when she had none in the source material, Zeke is pushed to the side and the maids honestly get on my nerves with their one note personalities. They also seem to forget that Cosette is literally being possessed by a demon he'll bent on destroying humanity (which she succeeded in the first time) because what was built up as an amazing antagonist is just a joke now. The only other redeeming factors are that in the Manhwa Cosette is still alive and the whole elemental plot stays constant. Despite my complaints on the adaptation it is still a interesting read but the novel will always beat it no matter what.

I know it sounds like I'm just being a negative Nancy with all of these and I'm sorry for being so negative but the next part will be more positive.

Next time on part 2 will be the decent stories.

[yellow-n-blue-hyperfixation]

eyecatcher, by smoosnom (moonsooms)

While volunteering at the Hawkins' help center, it seems like every girl around has a newfound interest in Will Byers, and Mike doesn't know why he feels the way he does.

~~

difficultly easy, by quietforasecond

Mike opens his eyes against the water droplets hanging off his eyelashes. Will hasn't stopped walking away from him, and he’s far enough now that Mike can no longer really see the details of his jacket. The rain feels like needles against his skin, and a frustration builds in his gut. Mike can't stand this anymore.

He breaks off into a run.

or Mike and Will finally confront each other about everything. It's raining, and things get messy.

~~

Basement Noise, by GrasshopperKatie

Will spends a lot of time alone. Even when he’s with everyone else, it feels like there’s a static feed running in his brain that makes him feel like the only person in the room. He’s not sleeping well and has dark circles forming under his eyes. While moving to California wasn’t fun and has clearly caused a strain on the party’s dynamic, he would take that over the endless nights of no sleep and the complete terror he felt when they drove back into Hawkins and that prickling sensation on the back of his neck started again. He always knew getting a whole year without dealing with this shit was unrealistic.

~~

outlined in guilt, my portrait stares (in a gallery where the walls lie bare), by catboy_cabin

Though Mike hasn't seen many of Will's paintings – not recent ones, at least, and especially nothing like this – there isn't a doubt in his mind that this is one of them. It has all the hallmarks of Will’s style, in the depth of emotion displayed by the eyes alone; in the way Mike's freckles are much more visible than they have any business being; in the dark lighting and drab colors that Will always uses to depict the landscape of his trauma, when he just needs to get all the horrific images immortalized by his brain out.

(It hurts, to find himself rendered like some monstrous thing straight out of the Upside Down.

Mike probably deserves it.)

or: vecna has a tempting offer for mike.

~~

i has a dream (i got everything i wanted), andiwriteordie

“No.” The word escapes Mike’s lips, and it’s barely a whisper. Tears blur his vision, and he turns back around to El, trembling. “N-no, that… that can’t be right… Will… he-he can’t be gone, El; he can’t be dead—”

“Oh, Mike,” El whispers. She reaches up, wiping the tears from Mike’s eyes, and there’s a look on her face—so tender and so, so kind. “Isn’t this what you wanted?”

Her words hit like a bucket of ice water being dumped on him, and Mike recoils, staring at his girlfriend—no, wait, his wife—in horror. “W-what? How… how could you say that, El? How could you say that?!”

Or:

An encounter with Vecna forces Mike to reconsider just what it is he really wants in his life.

~~

I Wish I Knew You Wanted Me, by FoodieHoodie

It may be the end of the world, but Mike's too busy being distracted by Will, especially since he's using the excuse of being a team to keep Will close and share his room.  ~~

i keep my distance (but you still catch my eye), by andiwriteordie

“I don’t want to lose you,” Mike says suddenly, because screw it. Screw it. He’s going to say exactly what he needs to say—all the words that have been too messy and too difficult to articulate for the past couple of years, for reasons Mike doesn’t fully understand.

~~

no takesies-backsies, by AttaBoyLuther

"Why did you lie?"

Will felt gravity leave him, felt his body untether itself from this mortal realm and float directly into the setting sun. The room was casted in a yellow-gold, beamless and directionless - and because Will was a sinner, he replied, "About what?"

Mike's face creased. He shook the rolled up painting, tightening his fist around it. "About this, Will. Don't play dumb."

(AKA: Oh, you know - just your standard Mike-finds-out-about-the-painting confrontation.)

~~

so, for once in my life, by MeltingSnow

“Mike?” Dustin’s words interrupted Mike’s thoughts. He simply hummed a reply, still looking at Will. God, why was he so obvious?His eyes just couldn’t seem to pull away from him. There was just something so captivating about Will. How could one ever look away from him? Ever look away from the living embodiment of a star at the centre of its own solar system? Such great gravity, you couldn’t help but be pulled towards it. It wasn’t Mike’s fault. It was only natural– a force of nature. One of Newton’s laws or something along those lines. He couldn’t really remember.

or

My take on post-painting reveal byler and how they deal with their emotions.

~~

what a match: i'm half-doomed and you're semi-sweet, by perexcri

One month ago, if you had asked Will Byers what he’d do if Mike Wheeler threaded his fingers through his hair, looked him dead in the eyes, and started leaning in for a kiss, he wouldn’t have said this.

He wouldn’t have said he’d be staring right back into those yawning dark eyes, one hand on Mike’s waist, the other against his cheek. There wouldn’t have been any lightning in his veins or blood rushing in his ears.

He wouldn’t have said that Mike Wheeler would be tilting his head in the opposite direction, eyes widening just the slightest as if asking permission, his mouth slightly parted.

He wouldn’t have imagined it at all.

~~

baby, we’re perfect, by bookinit

Mike grabs Will’s hands and tangles them with his own, blinking up at him through his long, dark lashes. His eyes are endless. Solid black, like the night above them. So shiny that Will can see himself, tipsy and happy, in the reflection. “I want to be stuck with you,” Mike whispers, like it’s a secret. “I don’t ever want to leave.”

Will sucks in a sharp breath, squeezing his hands. “Then don’t,” he whispers back, punched-out and honest. “Stay.”

—

Senior year in Hawkins. Will and Mike figure some things out.

[pawacelsus]

>Be me, Occultist >Become fascinated by all the ways a body can be rendered lifeless >Decide to study it further to improve my combat abilities >Become Bloodthirsty >Accidentally contract Wasting Sickness while examining an iron maiden >Heir chews me out for being reckless and tampering with things beyond my understanding >Remember my eldritch benefactor >BeenThereDoneThat.jpg >Finish mapping another section of the ruins and return to town >Heir shuts me up in the sanitarium >Guy in the next cell is a Leper with the Crimson Curse >FuckingGreat.png >Spend a week being rubbed with odoriferous pastes, fed dubious decoctions, and having leeches attached to my ass >Leper next door tells me about how he used to be a king in a far away land >Two hours later he bites a nurse >Finally get cured and released >Heir already left for some party at the courtyard >See a new sign posted by the blacksmith's >The Butcher's Circus is in town! >Take my last 200 gold and head over to check it out >Can hear the crowds and music all the way from the tavern >Arrive and slip into the throngs of viewers >Flags, effigies, and banners flying all around >Wait no that's not an effigy >That's an actual corpse >Scoreboard posted near the center of the circus >Buy and wear souvenir spiked helmet >Hear loud cheers from the arena >People start pouring out >Hear one brag about catching a tooth >See a mangled jester being wheeled out on a cart, along with other less-identifiable corpses >Pretty sure I saw a flagellant with no skin left on him among the gore (pic related) >StillGrinning.jpg >The Ringmaster appears on a small platform near the scoreboard >She's kind of hot in an "I will kill you for fun" sort of way >Wonder idly if the girls back at the brothel could dress like that >Ringmaster announces the next fight is to begin momentarily >Shell out 125 gold for a front row seat >Watch the ensuing fight >See a Crusader impale a Vestal on his sword >Witness a Highwayman scatter an Antiquarian's head at point-blank range >Watch a Jester splay a Bounty Hunter's innards onto the dust >Observe an Abomination melt a Leper's armor with his bile >Wonder if that's the same Leper from the sanitarium >Ringmaster is laughing gleefully from her seat high in the stands >BarbaricYetFascinating.mov >Fight ends >Everyone pours back out of the arena >Someone comes out to mop the blood and collect the teeth >Return to town >Heir asks where I've been >Tell them I've been training with the survivalist >PokerFace.bmp >Heir tells me I'm full of shit >MFW I realize I'm still wearing my spiked helmet >Heir shuts me up in the sanitarium again to cure my Bloodthirst >Spend a week being electrocuted, fed raw garlic, and dunked in freezing water >Neighboring cell is a Crusader with a gambling problem >Bets me his bread that he can recite all the verses in order >Eldritch benefactor laughs at me in my mind >KillMeNow.wav >Finally get out of the sanitarium again >Too exhausted to be passionate about hurting monsters anymore >Never want to taste garlic again >No longer Bloodthirsty >Heir immediately wants me to go to the farmstead and fight the miller for his rock candy collection >"Can't you just hire a mercenary?" >Heir doesn't listen >Go to farmstead with some other people >Lose track of how many farmhands, scarecrows, and foremen we kill >End up getting trampled by a plow horse >Get lost in time and space >See the beginning and ending of time simultaneously in an eternal instant >Start to miss garlic >Acquire Prismatic Force >Acquire Hopelessness >Reappear in town six weeks later >Feels like I've been gone for almost a year >My closest Houndmaster friend is long dead >Haunted by the idea that he died never knowing he was my best friend >Heir immediately demands all the crystal shards I have >Wants to send me to go fight some zombie pirates right away >Give Heir the finger instead >Stumble into brothel >Wordlessly drop all the crystals I have on the Madam's desk and take the closest unoccupied room >Collapse onto a bed >All unoccupied girls arrive a few minutes later to comfort

me >One of them is dressed like the Ringmaster >Finally break down crying >They hold me and coo soothing words into my ears >Get a good night's sleep for the first time in more than a month >Spend the whole week at the brothel, convincing myself that maybe life is worth living >No longer totally Hopeless >Contract Syphilis

Holy fucking shit

[blueeyedheizer]

under her wing - castor

WARNINGS: sickness, mention of needles, talks of death, violence

A/N: holy shit. I've had this fic in my WIPs for officially a year now. 🥴 It kinda sucks that no more than 5 people are going to read it but oh well... you get used to it 😂 It's my longest fic so far (4,4k words) I hope it isn't too confusing for those who haven't seen the show, I tried to keep it light on the characters and specific words used in the show. Some parts (ending included) might be a bit rushed cause in all honesty, i lost interest in this fic and ran out of inspiration so...yeah sorry about that but I really wanted to post it anyway :)

•••

"The boy's loyalty is impressive. But he's getting worse, and we're getting nowhere." you heard Nathaniel say as you placed a cold cloth on the boy's forehead, hoping for his fever to cool down a bit. You couldn't help but let your eyes explore his features as you took care of him. A couple of scars traveled across his cheeks, and his neck was covered in black veins contrasting with his pale skin. His eyes were closed, but you remembered them being some of the brightest blue you'd ever seen. He looked almost delicate despite the ferocity of his soul. Your eyes then wandered on his chest. About a dozen needles were pierced on it. The Widow said they were a necessary precaution, as the gift made him dangerous. You dipped the cloth back in the cold water before spreading it over his forehead again.

"I take it my regeant has a suggestion." the Widow continued, interrupting the small silence that had filled the room.

"Cut off his head, and send it to Pilgrim. Punishment for raiding the camp." your head shot right up.

"What?!" you left the boy's side to face Nathaniel, a look of horror on your face. "He's just a boy, Nathaniel. We're absolutely not killing him." you spat, emphasizing on 'absolutely not'. The room went silent for a moment and you scoffed, averting your eyes from Nathaniel to glance at the Widow. "Mother, say something!" you pleaded, throwing your arms in the air to show your frustration. She remained silent for a moment, pacing around as she thought of an alternative.

"We could use the boy's devotion as a weapon to weaken Pilgrim."

"The man's a zealot, we need to send a clear message."

"I won't let you do that, Nathaniel. Everything doesn't always have to be solved with cutting heads off. You'll have to find another way." you crossed your arms over your chest, well determined not to let him have the last word on this. The Widow's pacing came to a stop and she sighed.

"We're keeping him here for now until he gets better." she continued, looking at you. "If he ever does. But he's under your responsibility."

-

The same day, Cressida showed up to the Sanctuary and, as expected, threatened to attack if the boy wasn't given back to Pilgrim. After lots of talking, arguing and being on the verge of fighting, all four of you eventually agreed on a deal. Three of the widows' Butterflies were to be temporarily sent into Pilgrim's army in exchange for you to keep the boy and take care of him for a strict amount of time. 4 months, nothing more, nothing less. And if the boy dies in your hands, the Butterflies die with him.

You were the one who suggested the deal in the first place. You saw Minerva and Nathaniel's eye widen when the words left your mouth, but you felt like this had to be done. Something about the boy was intriguing, and you needed to know more about him.

The Widow had given you the order to take him to the small spare room she had originally got built to keep M.K. locked. You were against the idea of locking him up at first, but you couldn't push aside the fact that he was a Dark One, therefore much stronger than you and a potential danger to you and everyone else.

You let him get some well deserved rest and came back two hours later to check up on him.

Unlocking the door, you stepped inside before carefully locking it again behind you and walking towards him. He was finally awake, lids still half closed as his sickness got the best of him, tiring him out mercilessly. You stared at him for a moment before speaking up.

"How are you feeling?" he didn't answer. Not with words anyway. But his cold, hard glare told you that he wasn't planning on getting friendly with you. You took a sit on a chair nearby, resting your forearms on your lap.

"Tell me. How does Pilgrim control your gift? I saw him turn it off." you stated, your eyes meeting his.

"You think you know about the gift? About us? You know nothing." he spat. "Pilgrim was chosen."

"By whom?"

"By Azra." You stayed silent for a moment and frowned, stunned by how brainwashed he seemed to be.

"There's no such thing as Azra." You barely managed to get those few words out before he suddenly grabbed your wrist and pulled you down in one swift movement, rolling over and pinning you to the bed, the side of his forearm over your throat as his other hand held a blade flat against your cheek leaving you helpless.

"You know nothing about us, about Azra. About what we're fighting for." he insisted, speaking through gritted teeth.

"I may not know everything...but there is nothing beyond the Badlands." you retorted, your heart accelerating. You were well aware that the knife was still dragging across your cheek yet you were brave enough to let the words out. "This is the only ground left on earth. This...thing Pilgrim calls a safe haven, it doesn't exist. He's lying to you." You hissed, crying out when the blade pierced your skin slightly. "What do you think will happen when you're gone? He's using you, because he's nothing without your power." you continued. You could feel your face start to redden from the lack of oxygen "Just think about it." you whispered, his eyes staring dead into yours. You swallowed thickly, trying to turn your face away from the knife.

"He already found my replacement." The tone of his voice caused your expression to soften slightly. He seemed defeated, it was as if he knew his life was already over and the only thing he kept fighting for was his faith in this so called safe haven. You could tell his hands were shaking, and he was having a hard time holding himself up with his arms. A few more seconds passed by and the pressure on your throat loosened, allowing you to breathe somewhat properly again.

"I'm just trying to help." you continued in a much softer tone. "Your fever's getting worse, you won't make it if we let you go now. So please, let me help you."

Before any of you could move, you were interrupted by a shout of your name. Nathaniel and Minerva suddenly burst in the room and within just a few seconds Nathaniel had Castor on the floor with both hands around his neck.

"Nathaniel stop!" you managed to scream as you sat up and held your throat, trying to catch your breath. Nathaniel wouldn't let go, his grip on Castor tightening as he fought to free himself from his grip. You jumped from the bed, landing on the older man's back, trying to push him off the boy. "Enough!" you screamed. "Let go of him!"

"He was trying to kill you, Y/N !" Nathaniel retorted, finally letting go of him.

"I had everything under control!" you said as you helped Castor on his feet, letting him hold onto you for support. You glanced at him and had to fight back a gasp as you noticed his state.

"You're bleeding..." you said as you moved your hands to his cheek, lifting his face up to inspect the source of the bleeding. "Lay back down. Come on." He was shaking, a thin layer of sweat covering his forehead as he coughed. He reluctantly complied, laying back on the bed and wiping the blood off his nose.

As soon as the boy was laid back, the Widow placed a hand over your shoulder, turning you around so you could face her.

"Are you okay, did he hurt you?" she asked as she cupped your face, inspecting the small cut on your cheek, but you swiftly pushed her hand away.

"I'm fine."

"Y/N, you have to understand—"

"Look at him, for God's sake!" you suddenly yelled, startling everyone in the room. "Look at him, and tell me this boy currently has enough strength to actually hurt me." you spoke more calmly this time as you pointed to Castor. The single effort of holding himself up above you had drained him of his strength. He was breathing heavily with his eyes closed, his cheeks wet from both sweat and a few tears that had escaped the corner of his eyes. Minerva and Nathaniel were rendered speechless as they both stared at you, not knowing what to say. They didn't seem to understand why you were so invested in taking care of him, and to be completely honest, you didn't know either. There was just something about him that made you want to keep him safe.

You shook your head and scoffed before walking over to the bed and grabbing the wet cloth from the bowl, spreading it back over Castor's forehead.

-

The next day, you decided to pay him a visit early in the morning. You had woken up in the middle of the night and couldn't get back to sleep, your mind constantly going back to him. You had so many questions. What was this safe haven he told you about? Was there actually something beyond the Badlands? Why was the Gift so harmful to him if he was born with it? Your brain simply wouldn't shut off.

You greeted him politely as you opened the door to the small room, once again making sure to close it behind you.

"You can't keep me here forever." he said, not bothering with niceties. "Pilgrim will come for me. And when he does you won't live another day." the boy spat through gritted teeth, causing you to chuckle slightly. You ignored him.

"Did you get any sleep?" no answer. "I'm not your enemy, you know." you said, looking at him over your shoulder as you sterilized a needle. "I mean, technically, I am. But I really don't want to be."

"You knocked me out and kidnapped me."

"I also saved your life. And for the record, you punched me in the chest until I was left coughing blood on the floor. That makes us even." you continued. "Why don't you tell me your name?" you asked. Cressida had already mentioned his name but you wanted him to tell you himself, as a sign of trust. He didn't answer though, which caused you to sigh. "Well, I'm Y/N. If it weren't for me your head would be laying at Pilgrim's feet as we speak." he didn't say anything. Instead he pulled harder on the chains that were wrapped around his wrists and started to move around, trying to find a way to free himself.

"You're going to hurt yourself. You should save your strength." you said, flicking the needle before turning around and walking towards him. He fell back on the bed with a defeated sigh and gulped hard, his face contorting in what looked like worry. Or was it fear? You couldn't really tell. He closed his eyes, chest heaving up and down heavily. You frowned when you noticed his sudden change of demeanor. "Hey, hey. Calm down." you tried to bring him some comfort by placing your hand on his forehead, wanting to check his fever at the same time. He clenched his jaw but didn't complain. His forehead was still burning and you tried not to show your concern, not wanting to worry him more than he already was.

"What's in this?" he wondered, nodding towards the needle, the cracking of his voice destroying his attempt at sounding confident.

"Something I hope will help with your fever." your eyes met and you sighed. "Look— the chains weren't my idea. I was against it. But after what happened yesterday the Widow thought that keeping you chained would be safer for me. But I promise I have no intention of hurting you." you spoke. "I might even take them off, if you cooperate. I only want to help you get better." You stated matter of factly. Castor scanned your face in search of any indication that you might be lying, but all he saw was genuine concern. "Do you trust me?" you asked. He stayed silent for a moment before nodding slowly. He was in so much pain, he really had nothing to lose. You nodded your head back at him and moved, ready to stick the needling in his arm. "Ready?"

"Yes."

You smiled softly, trying your best to get him to relax as you prepared the injection site on his shoulder. Castor looked away and winced a little when the needle was inserted, but you were quick to pull it out after it was emptied, the medication being easily injected into his body.

"All done." you smiled as you held a compress on the area, wiping off the tiny spot of blood before throwing it away. "Now get some rest. It'll probably knock you out for a while."

"Wait." he interrupted as you were about to leave, causing you to turn to him.

"My name. It's Castor." you smiled.

"It's nice to meet you, Castor."

-

You came back everyday for the next several weeks, repeating the same process. You tended to his wounds and gave him the medicine he needed to ease the pain caused by the Gift. Castor was still reluctant at first, and it went like this for a couple more days until he warmed up to you and eventually trusted you fully.

It would be safe to say the two of you became close, much closer than either of you would have ever expected.

-

"Y/N, may I speak to you for a moment?" The Widow asked, peeking from the door to your room. You looked up from your book and nodded before motioning for her to come in. She noticed Azra's book in your hands and took a seat across from you. "Can you read it yet?"

"No. Nothing about this book makes sense." you sighed with a shrug, handing it to her. She nodded but didn't say anything. You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms across your chest as you rested your back on the head of your bed. "I suppose this isn't the main purpose of your visit."

"You know Castor won't stay here forever, do you?" she told you.

"I know. Why?"

"You won't see him again once he's gone." she insisted. You sighed softly, rubbing your face with your hands.

"I know that too, Mother."

"I'm not blind to the feelings you have for each other. But I need to make sure you know this thing you two have going on can't and won't last forever." she spoke softly, reaching to take your hand in hers. You nodded and gave her a small smile. There was no point avoiding the topic or lying about it.

-

Castor's recovery was going great, you even started to believe he was close to being completely healed.

But that was until his fever suddenly spiked.

You didn't know how or why it happened so suddenly. One day he was completely fine, the next he was laying almost unconscious on the bed, his breathing uneven as he struggled to keep his eyes open.

"Y/N...I don't think there's anything else we can do for him." Tilda spoke softly, her hand resting on your shoulder comfortingly.

"Yes. Yes we can. We need to bring a doctor, they'll know what to do. This is what we should've done since the beginning." you spoke firmly, applying a cold cloth on his forehead, your own breathing becoming uneven as your anxiety grew.

Castor whined and mumbled something unintelligible as more tears fell down his cheeks. He slowly moved his head to the side, his tired eyes meeting yours, silently begging you to make the pain go away.

"You're gonna be okay. I'm right here." you cupped his cheek with your hand, your thumb brushing it softly as you looked back at him, a tear escaping your eye.

"Quinn murdered our only doctor, Y/N. You know that."

"Then bring the doctor's daughter! She'll know what to do." you looked over your shoulder. "Tilda, please, I can't...—" you inhaled deeply, closing your eyes as you spoke. "I can't lose him. Okay?" you admitted in a whisper.

Silence fell in the room, only the sound of Castor's breathing filling it.

"Y/N...I really don't think that's a good idea." Tilda watched you with a pained expression. At those words you tried to keep more tears at bay, but your efforts were vain.

Tilda knew how close the both of you had grown, but most importantly she knew you had already lost way too many people in your life. With a small sigh, she eventually took her final decision before exiting the room.

"I'll see what I can do."

-

[Time skip : two weeks]

As soon as Tilda walked in the room you rushed to her and wrapped your arms around her neck, hugging her tight. She had done everything in her power to get Castor the help he needed, persuading the Window to get in contact with Veil. Both women had a long discussion about it and The Widow had to do a lot of convincing but thankfully, Veil agreed on offering her help.

After days of intense treatment and sleepless nights, Castor was finally out of danger.

"Thank you. Thank you so much for doing this." you whispered, holding her close.

"You're welcome, Y/N. I'm glad he's okay." you smiled at her, nodding before pulling away to give Veil the same grateful embrace.

"Thank you, Veil. I owe you."

"It's nothing. You did a great job at keeping him alive yourself. He probably wouldn't have made it this far without the medicine you gave him." she pulled back and looked over to the sleeping boy next to you. You smiled and nodded slowly, thanking her one last time and bidding her farewell as she left. Tilda followed, leaving you alone with Castor.

You sat on the chair next to his bed and took his hand into yours, holding it while you waited for him to wake up, which he did after about 10 minutes.

"Hey." you smiled, reaching over to cup his cheek, softly stroking his scars. "How are you feeling?"

"Better." he mumbled as he tried to sit up, wincing as he did. His head was still hurting from the heavy medication.

"Hey, easy." you placed a hand on his chest, easing him back down. Castor groaned, eyes closing as his head fell back against the pillow. Moving from your sitting position, you poured him a glass of water and then returned to his side. "Here."

Taking the glass from you, he only took a few sips before already giving it back. After that, a small silence settled between you two.

"Are you sure you're okay?" you murmured. He didn't answer immediately, seemingly deep in thoughts.

"Why are you so good to me, Y/N? When I first got here, you never tried to get revenge for what I did to you. You've always been here for me, taking care of me when I never did anything to deserve half of it. Why?" you smiled, looking down at your hands.

"Because I believe you're not like Pilgrim." You stared at each other in silence for a couple seconds.

"He took care of me when no one else would. He's a good person, Y/N."

At that you chose not to answer, not wanting this to grow into an argument since Castor was always quite defensive when it came to Pilgrim. Instead you just smiled and squeezed his hand, letting him know that he would always have you.

And before you knew it, it was time to let him go.

-

Sitting by the window, you watched as everyone got ready for Pilgrim's arrival.

"Are you okay?" a voice interrupted your thoughts. Nodding, you quickly wiped your wet cheeks and put on a smile, holding your arms close to yourself.

"Yeah."

Castor smiled sympathetically as he took a step closer, crouching in front of you to try and meet your gaze. He was doing much better than the past weeks. His skin had regained its normal color, his eyes were brighter than you'd seen them before. And after a long, exhausting fight, his fever was gone for good, and he was ready to be sent back where he belonged. You lowered your head, only for him to tenderly lift your chin.

"As soon as we find Azra..." he started, intertwining his fingers with yours. "I'll come back for you."

"Castor..."

"I know. I know you think there's no safe haven. But I promise you it's worth believing in."

"Cas...even if you do find Azra, Pilgrim will never let me through. I've never had faith in it, and I still don't. We're supposed to be enemies." you gave him a sad smile, reaching out to brush your thumb over his cheek.

"I'll find a way. You're my family now, Y/N."

You ran a hand through his hair, leaning in to press a lingering kiss to his forehead and nodding against it. Your eyes were tightly shut, a couple tears falling freely.

"Castor, Y/N..." the Widow's voice interrupted. "It's time."

-

You felt Castor's hand brush against yours as you walked side by side, then your fingers intertwined. The two of you walked close to each other, making sure no one could see them.

With one last squeeze, he let go of your hand and walked over to Pilgrim. The older man pulled him into a fatherly embrace, his face filled with relief and gratefulness before pulling away.

"Thank you for taking care of my son and bringing him back to me." Pilgrim spoke, looking at you then the Widow. You nodded politely before glancing over to Castor who was now greeting his sister, Nix. You had to fight back tears as your eyes met one last time. You nodded at him with a bittersweet smile before turning on your heels and walking away.

-

6 months later

It was the third time in three weeks that the Sanctuary had been attacked. You were still completely clueless as to who you were fighting against, but after so many attacks in such a short amount of time they sure had something against the Widow. It was something you were used to though, and you considered yourself lucky that other clans were here to help because without them most of your people would've been dead by now. The losses were heavy this time, though. The enemy had great advantage over you and a dozen of your people along with those from the helping clans had been killed or badly injured.

You were gathering the bodies when you were startled by a familiar voice coming from behind you, causing you to still. You waited an instant before turning around, your eyes searching for the source.

And then you saw him.

"Castor." you breathed out, a smile spreading over your lips as you made your way to him. As soon as you made eye contact you lunged forward, dropping what you were doing and throwing your arms around his neck with a relieved laugh. Castor's arms immediately found their way around your waist wrapping tightly around you as he pulled you close. You pulled back slightly to look into his eyes, your thumb rubbing underneath his eyes and down his cheek, tracing his scars with your fingertips.

"What are you doing here? Why— Why didn't you come back sooner?" you asked in a bittersweet tone.

Your questions were left unanswered as he pressed his lips against yours, his hands immediately moving to cup your face. You were taken aback at first but eventually you gave in, closing your eyes. You lips comfortably moved in sync, allowing the kiss to last for a moment. Now was probably not the best time for this to happen, but you couldn't care less.

"He killed Nix." he murmured after parting from the kiss.

"What?"

"Pilgrim. He killed her." your hand rested on his cheek, stroking it soothingly. He was on the verge of tears, fighting hard to stop them from falling. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, your eyes searching for his. So many questions were running through your head. Why did Pilgrim kill Nix? She was like a daughter to him. Did she betray him? Did Castor come back here to find shelter? However you knew the wound was too fresh for you to start asking questions as his eyes betrayed the pain he was trying to hide.

You looked around yourself to see if anyone needed help, but it seemed like everything was being handled. You locked eyes with the Widow from afar and you exchanged a nod.

"Follow me." you grabbed Castor's hand and led him inside the Sanctuary, locking yourself in a room. As soon as you were away from the chaos you pulled him in for a proper hug, taking a deep breath of relief as you held him close to yourself.

"I've missed you so much."

"I've missed you too." he murmured, his eyes closing for a moment as he tightened his hold around your waist and finally allowed himself to cry. "You were right about everything." he chuckled sadly, causing you to pull away. "Azra was nothing but a made up lie. If it ever existed, it doesn't anymore. It was wiped out with the Old World." you nodded understandingly before leaning over to press a lingering kiss to his cheek.

"It's not your fault Cas. You couldn't know."

"No, but I could've listened to you."

You smiled sympathetically, caressing his cheeks gently with your thumbs.

"You trusted Pilgrim. He was your family, I wouldn't have expected you to choose me over him." you whispered.

Then a comfortable silence settled between the two of you. Nothing more needed to be said, not yet, you were both happy to have found each other again.

"Have you found another Baron?"

"No, i'm on my own. Nix and I were still looking for one when..." he paused.

"It's okay." you interrupted, cradling his face in your hands and pressing your forehead against his. "You don't have to explain." he nodded, closing his eyes. "You're safe with me now. I promise."

[one-boring-person]

Only Traitors Consort With The Damned (Part Nine)

The Lost Boys x reader

Warnings: violence, blood imagery

Context: The first of the SRS has arrived, but thankfully not in large numbers.

A/N: hopefully I'll have a more Halloween-esque part to this out next weekend, so stay tuned for that!😁💛

Masterlist

A shiver runs through my body as I move silently through the back streets of Santa Carla, my hand resting on the gun holstered at my hip, gloved fingers tapping lightly on the deadly weapon as if in anticipation, my muscles taut and ready to spring into action. Unsurprisingly, a cool wind is blowing through town, the late October chill easily seeping into my new, stolen black denim jacket, the new outfit the boys found for me acting as a suitable disguise, seeing as the SRS uniform from before is a little too conspicuous, though the chains rattling quietly by my thigh are a little distracting, and the studs adorning the variety of clothes are a little superfluous, but it does it's part well enough. Thankfully, I got to keep my boots, so at least I'm not getting blisters from any new ones.

Biting my lip, I turn down yet another deserted alley, quickly scanning it for danger, noting the lack of people instantly, though there are a few cars and bins sitting by the surrounding walls here and there, each of them providing sufficient cover for a person, or multiple persons. Slowly, I edge forwards, watching the surroundings for any movement, aware that there could be danger at any moment, my heart pounding as I clock the lack of sound in the area, suddenly aware of the fact that there are no working streetlamps on this particular strip of alley, leaving it completely cloaked in darkness. Uneasy, I stop still, feeling the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Very carefully, I take off my gloves, placing them in my pocket as I listen closely to the eerie silence, watching the dark space in front of me, hoping to catch anything, should it come closer.

My head snaps round in the direction of a muted footstep, my fingers wrapping around the stock of the gun, pulling it from its holster and smoothly cocking it, flicking off the safety as I turn towards the noise. Mechanically, I lift the weapon a little higher, calming my racing heart before I step over towards the car the noise came from, holding my breath as I try to make out any shapes in the suffocating blackness, finding it nigh-on impossible to do so.

As I approach the car, I lift the gun higher still, edging around the seemingly abandoned vehicle, keeping my eyes trained on the space in front of me, my training kicking in as a dull calm spreads through me, keeping me from moving erratically, everything around me filtering out as I round the bonnet of the car.

A sudden blow to my upper back throws me forwards into the wall ahead of me, the air leaving my lungs as I collide with it painfully, tears springing to my eyes as my nose makes contact, the gun falling from my hands. Recovering quickly, I duck down before the second punch can come, a stifled yelp of surprise escaping my attacker as their fist connects with the hard surface, their knuckles most likely cracking from the force, causing them to reel back a little, leaving me time to spin around and jump back upright again. Without pausing, I swing my fist round into their exposed ribs, feeling the bones give slightly under the impact, my other hand coming round to land a hard blow to their descending face, their body whipping to the side in response. I move closer, intending to grab them, only for them to suddenly lunge forwards and shove me up against the wall, fists pummeling my sides, low grunts of pain leaving my lips as I grab their shoulders, but to no avail.

After a particularly well-aimed punch to the centre of my collarbones, I have to suck in a sharp breath of air, wincing as pain explodes through my chest, rendering me momentarily incapable of retaliating, giving my attacker the perfect opportunity to grab my hair and throw me away from the wall, my body violently crashing into the car bonnet as they drop me there, pain quickly spreading through me as I make contact. Under my weight, the windscreen cracks and shatters, shards of glass digging into my back as I skid over them, my attacker advancing on me with a newfound confidence, my eyes swiftly spotting the knife in their hand. Ignoring the blood pouring from my nose and mouth, I quickly roll to the side to avoid a sudden downwards thrust of the blade, dropping off of the car and onto the floor, going to get up, only to be stopped by a hand grasping my hair again, yanking my head back and pressing the knife to my throat. Eyes going wide, I take hold of their arm and press against it, feeling the icy sting of the blade just cutting into my skin, panic starting to well up in my body as I fight against their strength, only to find them slowly overpowering me.

With one last push, I drive an elbow backwards, catching them in the knee with enough force to make them buckle a little, giving me the chance to duck out of their grip and throw them onto their back on the floor, swiftly pinning then down as I grab my own knife from my pocket, wincing as they manage to use their's to leave a long gash down one of my arms. Putting my knife to their throat, I press down until they stop struggling, the two of us breathing very heavily as we calm ourselves, both waiting for the next move.

When nothing happens, I go to lean back slightly, only for my captive to suddenly write underneath me, kicking me backwards a little so that I have to stretch out my arms to keep myself upright. In doing so, however, I manage to lodge my knife in their thigh, a scream of agony tearing itself from their lips at their self-inflicted wound, blood starting to ooze out from around the base of the weapon, colourful curses and swears aimed at me accompanying the whines and whimpers of pain that follow. Climbing off of them, I swiftly grab their wrists and use the rope at my belt to tie them together, ignoring their pleas and begging, the voice now distinctly male as they try to appeal to my better nature, seemingly forgetting that they just tried to kill me.

I don't look at their face, turning to their newly sustained wound, thinking things over, before making a split decision. Pulling another rope from my belt, I tie it around the top of his thigh, pulling it tight to stop the bleeding, choosing to leave the weapon in place as I work, eventually telling him to shut up as he continues to ramble on.

*

"Who the hell is that and why the fuck is he here?!" David growls at me as I eventually manage to drag the Scout into the cave, a trail of dirt mapping out the path I used as I manoeuvre my way around the messy interior.

"This," I start, dropping the man's legs as I find a better source of light, "Is a Scout, someone sent to find me before the rest of the Clean-up Team arrives. He's here because we're taking him hostage."

Kneeling down beside the now-unconscious man, I turn my attention to the knife protruding from his leg, quickly deciding how to go about this. Taking hold of the Scout's knife, I carefully cut away the fabric of his trousers around the wound, gently testing how tightly the knife is wedged into the muscle, before dropping the weapon in my hand and grabbing a piece of nearby cloth.

"A hostage? Why are you taking a hostage?" David continues to interrogate me, scowling at me as I yank the knife from the wound and use the fabric to staunch the flow of blood that rushes out.

"So that I have some leverage over them when they come for me, though I'm not too sure how well they'll react to this." I muse out loud, only now realising that the platinum blonde vampire across from me is having a hard time controlling himself, "Sorry, I forgot that this would be difficult for you guys."

A small part of me is glad that David is the one who volunteered to stay behind tonight to keep watch with me, given that he seems to have the most self control (apart from Dwayne) when it comes to blood; if it was Paul, the Scout would be dead by now.

David just huffs, sitting in his wheelchair sullenly as he waits for me to finish, blue eyes watching me as I examine the wound.

"Hey, do you think you could get the med-kit from my rucksack, please? I need to stitch this or he'll bleed out." I ask him quietly, hoping he'll agree.

The vampire rolls his eyes, but stands and gets the kit anyway, handing it to me with a grunt. Thanking him, I take out a needle and thread, sterilizing them both as I prepare them for use, removing the makeshift bandage from the wound and leaning in to start sewing the edges shut.

"Where did you learn to do that?" David asks suddenly, breaking the silence.

"This? I learnt on the job, a few years ago. Some werewolf caught me with its claws when I got too close. I had to stitch myself up, so I learned from the experience." I explain dismissively, remembering the incident well.

"A werewolf?" The vampire questions, seemingly confused, "Where was that?"

"Somehwere in Texas, I think. I don't really remember the specifics. Why?"

"Oh, I wasn't aware that there were still werewolves in this country."

"Really?! You can't possibly think you're the only supernatural beings left in the U.S?" I ask, incredulous.

"I've been stuck in Santa Carla for as long as I can remember, so I wouldn't know." He chuckles in response, "What're you gonna do with him when he wakes up?"

I shrug.

"Talk to him, interrogate him. I just need to know how close the SRS are to finding me."

"How close do you think they are?" David queries quietly.

I sigh to myself, sitting back on my heels as I finish the job.

"Honestly, I'd rather not think about it."

Part Ten

[fromtheshadcws]

it’s technically sinday here so uhhhh. have some smut? r76, ovi, eding, bottom!gabi, just some old dads having fun w eggs tbh

"You're doing so well, baby."

The noise Gabriel makes is downright filthy and weak; this half-huffed sigh of frustration and arousal as he writhes in the sheets, face pressed against Jack's cool palm. A grounding little gesture, or as much as it can be when he feels like he's about to burst out of his own skin, cock bobbing against his stomach uselessly.

He's not entirely sure why he's let Jack convince him to do this. Especially now. Perhaps years ago, when trust was as easily given as it was received and they weren't old and scarred and broken��

Baring his soul had been easy, then. Now?

"Shut up," Gabriel hisses.

Jack just laughs, and it's goddamn embarrassing. But then there are slick fingers between his legs as Jack leans in, pushing Gabriel's knee up with one hand as the other presses against his clenching hole, and Gabriel nearly howls.

He can feel the weight of them, how they sit heavy in his gut. It's.. odd, in the way that's so goddamn hot he can barely think; every time he shifts, hips rolling as he uselessly fucks the air, the gelatin eggs move and shift around, brushing against his prostate with maddeningly soft nudges.

"I bet," Jack says quietly, "that you can take at least a few more for me. Look at you, Gabi."

There is marvel and awe in his voice, but the sharp edge to it doesn't escape Gabriel. Eyes widen as he lifts his head to look at Jack, chest heaving with exertion; he wants to snap back, dig his teeth into the scarred soft flesh of Jack's shoulder, anything, anything to convince him to wrap those delicately prodding fingers around his cock.

Jack looks goddamn beautiful when he breaks, but like this, sharp and wild and hungry and dominant, he takes Gabriel's breath away in entirely new, inescapable ways.

"Don't- know," he grunts out, mouth falling open into a silent gasp when Jack rubs his tight ass, the way it clenches harshly to keep the eggs inside. "Fuck, Jackie, just goddamn touch me already—"

"No."

The denial is almost painful and Gabriel arches off the sheets when Jack leans back, denies him any kind of touch in favor of just watching the wraith. He knows he loos a mess, knows it all too well; gnarled fingers twist into the sheets as he shifts and groans, ass clenching, smoke falling off of him in restless coils. Fangs are bared but it doesn't seem to deter Jack in the slightest; if anything, it spurs him on on on.

"You haven't earned it, soldado," says Jack coolly, and Gabriel's eyes roll back when there is a cold-slick touch against his ass. Between one blink and the next Jack grabbed another egg and nudges it against Gabriel's entrance, gentle but insistent. Unyielding like iron and all Gabriel can do is whine.

It's pathetic, and he hates it—

But the bone-deep surrender is absolute.

"There you go," Jack murmurs as Gabriel rocks his hips, legs slowly but surely falling open again. He is too full already but Jack presses and presses until his ass is stretched around the semi-hard intrusion. At its widest point, Jack stops, and Gabriel's eyes go wide at the burn.

"I know you can do it, babe. Be good for me."

He's not good. He's an omen of death, a mercenary, dead and broken and black as tar; but when Jack urges him on Gabriel folds as he always does.

Inevitably.

Finally, finally the next egg is pushed past his rim and slips inside with the filthiest noise, nudging against the ones already stretching his stomach until it's bulging slightly. The new weight puts even more pressure on his prostate and Gabriel wheezes at the jolt of electricity that runs up his spine, hips rolling in stuttering jerks, a silent plea for more.

It's almost too much; Jack splays his hand on Gabriel's stomach and presses down gently, moaning at the way Gabriel's skin is stretched taut around the weight in his belly. Gabriel flushes.

"Jackie, please-"

He hates begging. Hates it with an intensity that makes him snarl even as his eyes roll back in his head, cock leaking on his stomach. But he begs, fucking the air uselessly, breath coming in hitched little gasps as the eggs jostle and shift, driving him slowly out of his mind.

"I've got you, baby," Jack breathes. He leans over Gabriel, steadies himself with a hand on Gabriel's shaking thighs to kiss him. It's sloppy and filthy and really, if he was a little less on the edge Gabriel would have winced at how sloppy it is, and fuck he might be drooling but Jack doesn't care, just licks into his mouth and runs his palm up Gabriel's flank like he's placating a wild, bucking animal.

"I've got you, that's it, you look so pretty. Think I'm gonna make you come like this."

Gabriel’s eyes widen.

He can't—

but he knows better to argue with his soldier when those blue eyes are sharp and hungry so he just nods, arching off the bed to press himself against Jack. It's not quite as good as skin on skin but the rough fabric of Jack's fatigues rubbing against his feverish skin is good nonetheless.

God, he's so full.

"Please-" he chokes out again, shuddering at the way Jack chuckles.

Calloused fingers run gently over his stomach, teasing the hypersensitive skin. They swipe up the precum and smear it over Gabriel's stomach until he has to throw his head back, too goddamn ashamed at how easily he falls apart like this. Jack nudges a knee between his legs and Gabriel jerks, two seconds away from rutting against Jack's leg until he comes because he's just that goddamn close.

Jack Morrison is not a merciful man.

"Tsk," he grins. He kisses Gabriel again and rubs over Gabriel's nipples until he's wheezing, and then pinches.

"Fuck-" Gabriel chokes.

"That's more like it," says Jack, and that's about when Gabriel stops trying to keep track of what the fuck his soldier is doing. Jack twists and pinches his nipples until they're swollen and raw, tugging at the barbells mercilessly; the jolts of pleasure-pain are relentless, not letting up until Gabriel is near tears.

He hates to beg. But he does. There's livewire in his veins and his hips are twitching as Jack leans over him, one nipple pinched and twisted as Jack ducks his head and swipes his tongue over the other.

"Look at you, you want it so badly. You know you can come, baby. Come for me."

He almost doesn't want to, now. There is an angry, vicious little thing in the back of his head that rears up at the sweet words, the sense of being owned that comes with being rendered utterly helpless. Gabriel hates it and needs more, more more more as his muscles tense and he mouths at Jack's jaw helplessly, claws shredding the sheets.

"C-can't, Jackie, Jack please fucking touch me-"

Jack's eyes light up and really, that should have been warning enough.

Suddenly, Gabriel’s mind stops working; Jack laughs at how helplessly eager Gabriel is, at the wet, weak noises he makes when he presses the blunt curve of another egg into his ass. Too fast, too full, and Gabriel tumbles over the edge with a raw, shattered-glass scream, stripes of white covering his stomach.

"I said," says Jack even as Gabriel is still wheezing and sobbing through his orgasm, cock an angry-red as it jerks against his stomach, "Come. I'm calling the shots today, baby. But you're doing so well. Now catch your breath-"

He grins, a wicked little thing, as he twists one of Gabriel's nipples again, prompting a weak, raspy groan.

"We're only halfway, after all.”