#to avoid putting weight on the puncture wound

[milkweedman]

Totally fucked up the order, so am now attempting to recreate it from the pictures that i took of each warp on the board, with the hopes that the 3rd warp will at least be well behaved. If it isnt im gonna need to do another round of towels (or maybe just a test warp) bc i cant be doing this on the blanket commission. Am very very aware of how tangled this warp will be. Only potential saving grace is that imo cotton doesnt tangle anywhere near as badly as wool, so hopefully it wont be too horribly bad.

It is going, though. About halfway done dressing the heddles. Next will be sleying the reed. Hoping to get all the warping done by tomorrow.

[vivwritesfics]

I have read the fic with witch! Oscar but can I have it with Charles? If not that's okay!

Thanks in advance!!

I took this chance to write out one of the fics from my list i've got so two birds one stone

"You're not dead."

Charles couldn't quite believe his eyes. He'd seen the werewolf snap her neck, had seen her limp body fall to the floor, and had checked for a pulse that wasn't there. There was no way she should have been alive.

But she shrugged her shoulders and rubbed at her neck. It hurt, but not enough to kill her, that was sure. "Do you even remember what happened?" Charles asked as he stepped closer and looked at her neck. No puncture wounds, no sign of a vampire bringing her back.

She shook her head. "We went to that warehouse and boom, nothing until this morning."

Charles stepped closer to her. He grasped her hand and pulled her into him, wrapping his arms around her. She was alive. How the hell was she alive?

She slept over in his apartment that night, clearly exhausted after coming back to life. Not that she was aware of it. But, as she slept, Charles pulled out the book that Sebastian had given him and performed a spell.

The magic wrapped around her, telling him everything he wanted to know. "Shit," he hissed and closed the spell book. He put it back onto his shelf and climbed into bed beside her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close.

Charles was different around her after that night. She couldn't put her finger on why, but things were different. It was almost like he was avoiding her. And she needed to know why.

One day, one of the few times days that Charles had invited her to stay the night, she confronted him. Well, confronted might be a strong word. Instead, she slipped into his lap and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Charlie, what's going on?" She asked, resting her head on his shoulder.

He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight. "Try and remember this time," he said.

Suddenly, there was a sharp pain in her back. She let out a gasp, her eyes growing wide. "... Fuck," she choked out. "Charles."

Her body dropped from his lap onto the floor. Charles pulled the knife from her back, cleaned it and put it back. He just hoped the spell he cast was enough to help her to remember.

Just an hour later, she was standing up, body uncomfortable from where she was laying on the floor. "What the hell?" She groaned as she looked around from her boyfriend.

Her boyfriend who was at his piano. As soon as she laid eyes on him, the memory came flooding back. Sitting on his lap, the pain in her back, falling to the floor and then dying. She was dead. Holy fuck, she had died.

And, with the way Charles was looking at her, he wasn't surprised to see her alive.

She began running. "Fuck," he hissed, lifting his fingers away from his piano keys. She chased after her, trying desperately to catch her. "Y/N! Wait! Let me explain!" He shouted, desperately reaching for the back of her shirt.

He wrapped his arms around her, picking her up and taking her back to the apartment. "Charles! No, put me down!" She shouted, trying desperately to get away from him. "I'll go dead weight!" She completely slumped her, making it near impossible to hold onto her. But it was no problem for Charles.

Charles took her back into the apartment. He used magic to lock the door and dropped her onto the couch. "Just hear me out," he said as he crouched in front of her. He didn't use magic to hold her there, but she didn't try and move.

"Two weeks ago I went to a warehouse to deal with werewolves," he said. "You followed me and I didn't know until a werewolf snapped your neck and you were laying there, dead. I had no choice but to leave your body there but, by the time I went back for you, you were gone."

She shook her head. That didn't happen, that never happened.

"The next day you showed up at my apartment and I couldn't believe it. So I did a spell and I learnt that you... can't die. I had to make sure, so I stabbed you, and here we are," he said and let out a sigh. "I wouldn't have done it if I knew it really would hurt you."

She couldn't quite believe it. But it had happened. She knew it happened, she'd remembered it.

"So, I can't die and you're a witch," she said as she looked down at him. "What do we do now?"

"We could go back to normal?" Charles suggested. But it would have been a miracle if she'd take him back.

But they tried it. She wanted to go back to normal, wanted him to hold her, to make her feel loved like he normally did. Charles didn't bring up her immortality. She didn't bring up the fact that he was a witch. Everything was normal.

But then his mentor, Sebastian, came to him with a little problem. "Charles, I need a human sacrifice for a protection spell," he said to him one day.

Charles swallowed the lump in his throat. He knew exactly what Seb's problem was. He was a pacifist, he didn't want to have to kill anybody for a spell. If Charles did it, his hands were clean.

He didn't know Y/N was listening in on his conversation. Not until she nervously stepped towards them. "I can help," she said, somewhat nervously.

Instantly Charles shook his head. "Ma chérie, no," Charles said softly and pulled her close.

"No, Charles. I can do it and he won't have to kill anybody."

And that was how Charles started using his girlfriend as a sacrifice, because she couldn't die (it was the perfect arrangement).

[delicris]

strings of blood attached

april 4th | forbid | 849 words | @jegulus-microfic

cw: mcd, blood, mild gore

"James. Look at me."

And he does. Oh, he does – a fevered look charged with anger and a desire for blood. And Regulus knows he can satisfy only one of the two. There's a blade pressed to his throat and a body bracketing his entire frame, rendering both his arms useless, and yet, he has never felt calmer.

Breathe in. Breathe out. A step-by-step guide on how to survive.

Breathe in. Hold the eye contact, feel the electricity of it charging you from the inside out. Breathe out. Take the risks you were taught to avoid like the plague.

"We don't have to do this." Breathless.

Breathe in. The air staggers in your throat, and you hold it there for a few seconds, almost as if preserving this exact moment in time. Your eyes water. And then –

James's breathing is erratic when he shifts his body weight and pushes the blade further. It punctures the skin but doesn't go all the way through to his arteries.

It should hurt, and yet the only thing Regulus can focus on is James – James, who puts his entire being into a kiss so uncoordinated as his breathing. There are way too many teeth and not enough of what they once used to be, and it's sheer torture. It's the next best thing Regulus has ever experienced, and James is pulling away far too soon for his liking. He wants to lick him clean, wants to sink his teeth through his flesh and rip him apart because maybe then he could reach him.

There's a smile stretching across Regulus's face that's bordering on obscene, raw. Breathe out. He knows James is angry. He knows what urges he can satisfy. He knows the rules of survival.

Breathe in. He's calm all the while James keeps fighting for his life, keeps stealing the oxygen, keeps pushing and pulling, even after everything.

I love you. He tries to forbid himself from thinking of it.

I love you. He cannot succumb to his own selfish desires.

I love you. He wishes he could get what he came here for, what was stolen from him – vicious fingers curling around something that was never theirs to touch, not even for them to look at. It was always James and Regulus, always both or neither, always too much or not nearly enough. Is that what love is meant to be like?

I love you, I love you, I love you.

iloveyouiloveyouiloveyou

lovelovelovelovelove

lovelovelove

lo

   v

     e

Breathe out.

"I love you."

A whisper and Regulus doesn't know who says it, just knows that the lips are now much more gentle. The kiss screams of softness and care – it urges him to wake up from the false tenderness, the false sense of intimacy, and yet it lulls him in all the same. It's the last sliver of hope.

Regulus smiles softly into the kiss just as James slits his throat clean. It was always going to be the desire for blood that would end them both.

He can't see him, but he feels him hiding in the crook of his neck. He thinks he hears him sob, still drawing one breath after the other, still trying so hard.

James breathes in deep, deeper than ever before, and then, the distinct sound of a blade going through flesh. He would recognize James's body collapsed on top of him every single time, their disgruntled noises fusing into one perfect harmony.

Had the situation been different and the wounds not their last, they would have been bathing in each other's blood until the sun started painting James's skin warm, fingers dragging through the pooling blood, reaching inside.

Regulus trips over the tiny bit of hope that grew inside of him at that very last second and falls into the pit of an eternal abyss with his lover hidden deep inside of him. They were never going to leave this place on their own, the string was always way too tight.

–

They meet again, eventually. Regulus cuddled up in their bed, placed in the middle of a seemingly endless white floor. The light is overwhelming, yet the bed brings a sense of familiarity that keeps him content. A tiny black cat is keeping him company – a kitten that keeps bugging him for attention as he wakes for the millionth time. But there's a new feeling of an unmistakable weight behind him, and he shouldn't be able to feel the warmth of the body, but if he focuses hard enough, he's certain he can make out that long-awaited sense of comfort he's been searching for.

"How long have you been waiting here, love?"

Regulus no longer has to keep his breathing under control.

"Just a couple lifetimes."

Death looks him right in the eyes, and he smiles again – for the first and last time. There's an arm thrown over his waist and a kiss pressed to his shoulder, death purring right next to his head.

He falls asleep for the last time, their string attached for an eternity.

[criticalglitch]

The fire knights were proving to be a challenge, one that Sandoval was having trouble overcoming, Messmer's forces were relentless, and left few openings to counter. Wego's knives raced like flashfire, and Sandoval's footing was unsure on the pond scum coating the stone floors of the Church District. He jumped backwards, dancing out of the way of a viciously timed swirling flame, and gripped the support beam above, vaulting into the rafters. These beams were damp, but a sight less slippery than the cobblestone.

"Coward," Wego sneered, launching another cursive fireball at him. Sandoval dropped, gripping the edge with one palm, straining to hold his grip.

"Clever," Sandoval winced, swinging his leg over the beam and aiming his crossbow. He pulled the trigger, lily-tipped darts firing in a spread towards the Fire Knight. "Did you learn that two-syllable word all by yourself?"

Wego swung backwards, all but one dart missing their mark. It glanced his forearm, and he gripped the wound. Sandoval dropped back to the ground, drawing his silver blade.

"You will bathe in the inferno-"

"Dark above, do you ever tire of listening to yourself?" He gritted his teeth, slicing open his hand. Black, half-congealed blood clung to the blade like sludge, almost bubbling upon contact with the air. He thrust forward, the tip of the blade puncturing Wego's thigh.

He spat in response, his daggers whirling out, leaving a light cut on Sandoval's cheek as he nearly avoided the advance.

Sandoval winced, and swung the sword across Wego's chest, rivulets of blood seeping through the gaps in his armor. He sputtered, stumbling backwards, gripping his chest.

"What... What have you done..." The blood vessels in his eyes snapped, red streams falling from his nose and lips. Sandoval gripped his oozing palm, holding it close to his chest. There wasn't time to apologize, to make amends. He moved past Wego as he fell to his knees, Sandoval's toxic ichor put to work.

He found his way to the chapel, putting his shoulder into the passage doors to force them open, and stepped on to the elevator, cleaning the blade off on his waistcloth. Callar was waiting for him - there wasn't a moment to lose.

The stone plinth descended rapidly, and quite a ways down. Shadow Keep was intimidatingly large, and he was having trouble getting his bearings. Every headless statue he encountered reminded him of the stone platform he'd abandoned - a crumbling, powerless god, decapitated at a timeless altar. He shivered, and made his way through the passage.

He could feel something ahead. St. Trina's guidance? His feet found the sap, the dredge of the Scadu Tree's lifeblood, oozing into a mire at its base. The sky had been eclipsed by its twining form, a haze rising from where it all pooled - and a lone, desiccated sunflower, solitary in the center. Trudging through the muck, he marched closer, squinting slightly.

The ground began to quake, and Sandoval found his footing, his hand on the hilt of his blade. The sap erupted, the Scadu Avatar swinging out of the earth, radiating malice and hatred. His eyes widened, as it dug its roots in, waves of deadly barbs rocketing across the pools towards him.

"Oh, for the love of-" He was launched into the air, the thorns tearing at his skin and his clothes. he landed on his back, the wind expelling violently from his lungs. Scrambling to his feet, Sandoval sprinted forward, and leapt, both hands on the hilt. He pivoted in the air, driving the blade into the great flower's face, using his weight and momentum to tear his sword downwards. It followed immediately downwards, pummeling him beneath it, the barbs from its roots once again piercing upwards into him.

It propelled itself violently into him, and he gathered the sum of his determination into withstanding its blows, countering when he could.

Finally, its great head collapsed in the sap, and Sandoval delivered a clean final blow, clutching his own ravaged torso with his golden arm. He let out a breath, and peered downward, wondering what it may have been guarding.

"Nothing...?" He breathed, his brow furrowing. That can't be right. Something was here. He could *feel* it.

And then the ground trembled once more. He leapt backwards in shock, as the fallen Sunflower arched its stem.

"No. No no no no-" It coiled, and shot itself forward, barreling towards him at a blinding speed, Sandoval flipping backwards out of its trajectory.

"You have *got* to be joking." Injured and struggling, be braced himself once more.

---

He gasped, crawling in the bog to the small, shining fragment in the sap. A shattered great rune, nearly crumbling in his hands. He used his sword to lean him to his feet, utterly exhausted and littered with cuts and punctures.

Kindly Miquella had discarded his shard here - an offering? An apology? He clutched it close to his chest, limping back the way he'd come.

[crazylilmonster]

What If They Were Vampires? Shorts 1

Their favorite spot to bite you

Note: Ah the writer’s block decided it has been a while since it paid me a visit. So what I decided to do is this, I will write shorts of where vampire Tokyo Revengers like to take a nibble form if you catch my drift. I had these ideas for a short while so I hope you enjoy until my next post.

Pairing: Toman (separate) x female reader

Description: The humanity knows about vampires. It is also a common knowledge that the vampire bite gives humans the most pleasurable feeling in the world which has them coming within seconds.

Contains: Biting, blood drinking, overstimulation (kinda?), fingering , praise, body worship, degradation (kinda?), established relationship

Disclaimer: This is not for anyone who can’t handle what was mentioned above and especially minors. I’m aware that some of the under aged ducklings might still read this so please do not repeat any of the acts mentioned here. Practice safe sex and avoid alcohol, cigarettes and drugs, your body is still growing so please keep it healthy.

Thank you so much for reading, my requests are open if you wish to see more.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Masterlist

Manjiro Sano (Mikey)

Mikey… ah my favorite man child. He adores your breasts. No matter if there are any other good spots declared by the person measuring you he will be biting only into your breasts. And by that I mean all over. Above, below a nipple, side, inner boob it does not matter. The size does not matter either. This fine young gentleman will sit in your lap like a two year old child and just suck on your tits before biting you.

You were seated on a couch and Mikey sat in his favorite spot. Your lap... He pulled your shirt up to see your breasts hidden by the bra which automatically makes him furrow his eyebrows in disproval.

“I told you not to wear that thing at home.” He let out a wine.

You rolled your eyes at his demand as you reached behind your back undoing the clasps. He then forcefully removed your shirt and bra leaving your chest completely bare before him. You noticed a familiar spark in his eyes the moment he had them so close to his face.

“Yay… boobas….” He buried his face in between of your breasts smiling like the happiest man alive. Mikey proceeded to place kisses all over your chest worshiping them and absolutely adoring the feeling of your warmth on his lips.

He then bit into your right breast right around your nipple sucking on the punctured wound. The familiar feeling of pleasure washed over you and you were coming within seconds. Your low mewls and suppressed moans were like music to his ears.

But what was the best thing about letting him feed on you was when he was done and you could see his expression. His mouth was slightly open with droplets of blood falling from his sharpened fangs and running from the corner of his mouth all the way to his chin.

“So good.” He mumbles as he wipes his bloody chin.

Ken Ryuji (Draken)

Draken is giving you a choice if you want to hide his bites. That’s why his favorite spot on you is the back of the neck. It’s not that visible and you can hide it quite easily. Not to mention that he adores hugging you from the back wrapping his arms around your waist and biting into the back of your neck.

You were standing alone in the kitchen making lunch for yourself and maybe Ken if he felt like eating when you suddenly felt big arms wrapping around your waist and weight on your shoulder.

He was watching you cutting the vegetables and putting it in the pan letting it simmer in low heat. When you finally let go to the knife Draken kisses the back of your neck and then bites into it.

“Ugh…” You moaned.

Your knees felt week and you would have fallen if it wasn’t for his arms holding you against his torso. He lowered one of his hands into your pants and underwear slowly moving his middle finger against your slit.

You wined slightly at the motions of his fingers against your clit and his tongue on the back of your neck. By the time he is done he licks the back of your neck form the base all the way up to your hairline.

“You didn’t cum?” He mumbles under his breath into your ear. “We can’t have that.” He pushed two of his fingers into your cunt while placing many kisses against your neck and slightly sucking on the previously made wound.

Your release washed over you within seconds and you could feel him smirking against your skin. “Good girl.”

Keisuke Baji

I feel like he is somewhat possessive. Like your blood tastes so good and he kinda wants you all to himself? I don’t think he would be as obvious and bite your cheeks but he’ll definitely bite into your neck. So it gives you the option to hide it but he’ll be sad or set the car on fire if you do.

The two of you were watching a movie and you were seated on his lap cock warming him because ‘he was cold’. You only said that you would do it if you watched your favorite movie. At some point he became bored of it and started placing kisses on your neck giving you hints that he’ll bite you.

“Kei…?” You turn your head to look at him to see him grinning at you.

“Hm…?” He hums against your skin.

“What are you doing?” You question.

“I’m thirsty…” He mumbles.

“Then get some water.” You said.

Baji sighed. “But I’m super cozy right now and the kitchen is so far away.” You could feel fangs brush against your neck.

Baji bit into your neck and lowered his fingers onto your clit. He moaned against your skin mid sucking from the clenching of your cunt around his cock. “Kei…” I moaned as you felt your release washing over you.

“Fuck.” He moved you to lay down on the couch slamming his length into you and hitting your cervix. “Pussy so good…”

Takashi Mitsuya

I feel like he is such a gentleman about sucking your blood. Like he asks you which spots you feel most comfortable with and if you want to hide them. And if you say that it’s whatever he will definitely be slightly flustered because you trust him with it. I feel like he changes it up from time to time depending on what’s convenient. If he is in a hurry he’ll bite into your arm and if he isn’t he’ll bite you anywhere form thighs to breasts to lips.

The two of you were making out on the bed in your shared bedroom. He was gently caressing your things. You moaned into the kiss which made his fangs suddenly grow bigger piercing the skin.

You were coming within ten seconds your legs slightly shaking while clenching his sides. “Don’t do it so suddenly.” Your uneven breathing made your warning sound like a wine.

“’m sorry love.” He pressed a gentle kiss on your lips making his way down your neck. “’m gonna make you feel real good hm?” He hummed against your neck before biting into it and making you cum once again.

You wine at his actions. “So good for me, where do you want me to bite you next?”

Hakkai Shiba

This poor, poor child has never done it before you. He felt weird about biting strangers, he did however dream about biting you since his silly little crush form middle school turned into pure adoration and love by the time you guys finished high school. And you can bet everything in your bank account that he wasn’t going to tell you about it. And honestly speaking if it wasn’t for his big sister coming to the rescue you wouldn’t have even known about it. So when you did manage to confess to him he was ecstatic and red as a chili pepper. And no he didn’t bite you immediately he was fucking terrified of hurting you. But when you said that it was fine he was really nice about it which spots you want and all that jazz. However when you said that you don’t really care his pants seemed to fit a tad bit tighter than usual.

“I’m starving.” He mumbled under his breath as the two of you were cuddling on a lazy Sunday. Without a word you moved your shirt aside exposing your shoulder. “What are you doing?”

“You said you were hungry.” You clarify.

“I mean yeah but…”

“No buts. It’s super warm and if you leave I’ll be cold again.” You complain.

Hakkai lets out a sigh as he bites into his favorite place on your shoulder. The taste of your blood made him immediately harden in his pants. While still sucking your blood he struggled to take off both of your pants and underwear.

“Hakkai…” You moaned out his name which was a final push he needed to stuff you full with his cock.

When he stopped feeding on you he groped your breasts with one hand while pushing his erection into your cunt and with the other hand he was rubbing your clit. Your pleasure always came first in his mind.

However with your clenching and moaning he couldn’t help but finish faster than he usually would. You noticed it too that he lasts way longer if he is not biting you. Not that you can’t relate to it since he makes you cum within seconds after his fangs pierce your skin.

Souya Kawata

Like Mitsuya he is a gentleman, that’s why he likes to bite into your wrist and the reason why he bought you a bracelet so you can hide his bite with it. He also bought a matching one for himself and I can’t stretch it enough how happy he feels when you put the bracelet on the other hand so anyone close to you can see his bite.

“Why are you wearing it on that hand?” He asked you one day when you were lounging on the couch on a rainy day.

“Just because.” You eyed the bracelet.

“Weren’t you anxious if someone asks you about the bite?” He mumbled.

“I don’t mind it.” You say.

You notice Souya’s face turn crimson red. You were fine with showing off his bites? He then eyes his bracelet and switched it to the other hand.

“Why did you switch it?”

“So we make a heart when we hold hands.” He grabbed your hand and showed how two shapes on it make a heart. Souya then kissed the back of your hand and turned it around to bite into your wrist.

“Hmpf…” You mumbled form the familiar sensation and pleasure. “Souya…” You moaned his name.

He looked up at you while he was still sucking on your wrist and there was just something about the way he looked at you that made you cum. Not to mention the expression he made. His cheeks were painted red and half lidded eyes and unusual scowl nowhere to be seen.

“Can we make love?” He asked you with doe eyes.

You let out a quiet giggle. “Yeah…”

Nahoya Kawata

Unlike Souya he wants people to see your bites. That is why during summer he bites your collar bones because physically you can’t wear anything over it to hide it and in winter he bites your cheeks and neck.

“Hoya… Don’t bit me there.” You wined as your handsome boyfriend was slamming his hips against yours. He bit into your cheek to make sure you can’t hide the bite.

He grinned at you. “Why not baby? Don’t you want people to know you’re mine?”

“I… I…”

“Aww… my baby is already fucked dumb, I didn’t even bite you properly.” He mocked. “Do you want that? You want me to bite you?”

“Y-ye-yeah…” You stutter.

Nahoya bites into your neck making you cum instantly and almost losing your conciseness. “Fuck… squeezing me so good…” His breathing became even more uneven. “That’s it… make me cum…”

Kazutora Hanemiya

Fingers and things, there is no doubt in my mind. Maybe even breasts if he is feeling like a khm khm a brat. His favorite thing is to have his face squished by your things as he bites them. And then if you squirt you do it on his face… and he loves it. No joke he would low key adore if his face was covered in your juices.

“Kazu… ‘s too much…” You sigh as your adorable vampire boyfriend sucks on your clit making you reach your fifth orgasm of the night.

He was winy how he doesn’t get any pussy anymore even if he was eating you out two days ago but that is far too long missy this man needs his breathing restricted by your cunt at all times. So just to shut him up you allow it. Little did you know he was going to overstimulated you as a punishment? Yeah, like you were going to let that happen.

“Kazutora if you don’t stop this instant I won’t let you cum for a week straight.” You warned and he raised his head from in between your legs. He had a pout on his face which was adorable.

As you were about to get up he pushed you down biting into your thing making you squirt all over the side of his face. You practically scream as you orgasm.

And that was the moment that he knew… He fucked up.

Because you honored your promise not allowing him to cum for a week straight and then forcing him to go through the whole month of November without getting his dick wet. And let me tell you he never, ever disobeyed your order again.

[o5-7-the-daughter]

🙊

Warnings: unreality? (amnestics/mnestics use), needles/injection, vague mention of physical illness/vomit

Word count: 1.322

You raise an eyebrow as the woman infront of you - a short, slim girl you could have sworn you had seen in the lab before. What is she even doing here? - asks you to pull your sleeve up for the second time now. You had assumed she must have been talking to someone else at first, why would she ask this of you, after all? But now, her dark eyes are staring right into yours, and she is holding a small syringe in her right hand, apparently waiting for you to finally oblige.

"What is that?", you ask with a short nod toward the needle, but she doesn't respond. Alright. Not threatening at all.

With a quiet sigh, you pull your sleeve up anyway, watching on as she administers the clear liquid with steady fingers. Don't ask questions, they had told you on the way here. Maybe it was less a warning and more them letting you know that you wouldn't get an answer anyway.

When the vial is empty, the woman hands you a piece of cotton to press on the small puncture wound to avoid bleeding. You silently watch on as she puts the syringe back in the briefcase she had been carrying before; the amnestic division's logo is on the bottles inside of it. Was that what she had given you? Amnestics?

You don't get the time to ask her about it when she already shuts the briefcase again and turns away, quickly marching down the hallway infront of you towards a staircase leading to the next floor. You remain standing where you are, irritated by the entire situation, until she reaches the stairs, at which point she turns back to look back at you, appearing just as confused as you feel.

"Are you coming?"

After a short pause, you nod, doing your best to catch up to her as she proceeds upstairs. By the time you reach the second floor, she is already halfway through the hallway there.

You glance at the doors you pass, just briefly - time won't allow for more, and you're half glad about this fact when you realize what is written on the dark wood in gold lettering.

These are the names of the current Overseers.

Eve, The Collector.. Blackbird, Adam, The Professor, and-

Green.

Your jaw tightens slightly at the realization that this is the door the woman is waiting infront of, staring at you with an almost pitiful expression. She doesn't speak a word this time. Following a short knock, she pushes the door open, nodding at you to enter.

The office looks.. odd, in a way. Much simpler than what you had expected from a member of the O5 Council. You don't have much time to think about it, anyway, as your eyes meet those of the man sitting behind the desk. He, too, appears almost irritatingly ordinary, with greying hair and a small build.. you could have sworn he looked bigger on that stage a few weeks ago. You have to bite your tongue not to comment on it - harder than you would have expected to, weirdly enough.

After a few moments of this silent staring, Green turns to face the woman somewhere behind you instead.

"Thank you, Agnes. You may leave."

She gives a short nod at the acknowledgement, quickly stepping back out of the room. She pulls the door close behind her, leaving the two of you alone. You fold your hands behind your back in an attempt to hide your discomfort. You knew well enough that few people lived to ever meet an Overseer - and being left alone with one surely wasn't a good sign, was it?

You clear your throat, an attempt to pull his attention back to you, even though you're not sure if you actually want him to look at you again. Something about his eyes feels.. threatening. They remind you of a snake, in a way.

"Why was I called here?"

He grins at you, condescending as Overseers tend to be- … no. No, it's not condescending, much more.. amused? Teasing, maybe? You frown, slightly shifting your weight to the other leg as you watch him get up from his chair and wander around the desk in a manner much too casual for your comfort.

At this point, something at the back of your mind stirs awake, a brief flutter of a memory that you didn't even know you had forgotten; deep green eyes, and a smile not unlike the one you see infront of you right at this moment. You tighten your hand to try and push down the uneasy feeling in your stomach.

Green tilts his head slightly, seeming to have noticed anyway. Damn it.

"You might want to sit down. I don't want you to get hurt over this."

You hesitate - his tone has shifted slightly, to something almost gentle. It only feels more threatening. Still, you follow his.. order? Suggestion?, and sit down on the sofa to your right.

He doesn't comment on your choice, though there's a hint of amusement in his eyes that you attempt to ignore. As the door opens again, this time letting a sturdy woman carrying a tray in, he leans against his desk. The woman gives him a short nod before putting the tray down on the small table infront of you, quietly assembling a service of two cups, a teapot and a plate of financiers. Your discomfort only grows as the bitter citrus smell of the tea reaches you, and you turn back to glance at the Overseer. Had he been watching you to figure out what kind of tea you like for some reason or was it just some sort of lucky guess..?

"It was intentional", he comments, making you flinch back slightly. Can these people read minds after all-?

"Why was I called here?", you ask again, though you almost instantly regret speaking up this harshly. ".. apologies. I- … didn't mean to yell."

He just chuckles.

"You were called here because I want you to remember me."

You pause, narrowing your eyes slightly in hopes of an explanation. He just looks at you in silence. Of course he does.

"I don't think I understand."

"You will soon enough, my friend."

You have to resist the urge to sneer at the nickname - why would he call you that? And, more importantly, why does it feel so familiar? Comforting, even?

He doesn't elaborate on his comment, either, and instead sits in the armchair to your left. He picks up the teapot to pour both of your cups full. Watching him like this feels like some sort of elaborate deja-vu, one that makes you feel sick to your stomach, enough to-

"Hum. It suppresses your gag reflex."

That's the moment when things come crashing down on you - memories, years worth of them, images and scenes that had previously felt so wrong in your mind all return with a new- no, old friend in them, the man watching you so patiently from a few feet away. You remember days in the laboratory with him sitting on the desk just next to your project to watch you with curious eyes, late nights laying in some field in the middle of nowhere, talking about the stars above-

And him bringing you tea just like this when you felt sick one day, giving you the same advice in a lighthearted, but genuine tone.

The pictures make your head hurt, but through the confusion of it all, you feel.. oddly warm, as if the missing piece you had inexplicably lost some time ago was finally returned to you.

You don't know how long it takes you to calm your racing thoughts, but when you raise your head, slowly, to meet these suddenly not-so-scary anymore eyes, the man's name comes to you so easily that you wonder how you could have ever forgotten it in the first place.

".. Sam-?"

[my-writings-and-musings]

Hello! I don’t know if you’re still doing this prompt but how about the Oxygen Loss but with either Rung or Ratchet? I’m not sure how you would do Ratchet, maybe he’s away from the Med Bay at the time the LL is being attacked?

I've got some of my favorite bot Rung for you, and Ratchet is in part five listed below! Let's have some angst with the good phsychiatrist!

Part One: Here!

Part Two: Here!

Part Three: Here!

Part Four: Here!

Part Five: Here!

Part Six: Here!

Part Seven: Here!

Part Eight: Here!

Part Nine: Here!

Part Ten: You're Here!

Part Eleven: Here!

Part Twelve: Here!

Rung

·Perhaps being human just made one think differently from Cybertronians in the most unusual of ways, but you truly never understood how anyone could forget the lovable phsychiatrist, though you have quite a few unique reasons to remember him. While he's actually rather sociable and energetic, the two of you most often enjoy relaxing together in his office. Today you're doing just that by chatting away about the various pieces of earth media you think he'll enjoy. Whether or not he actually ends up having interest in any of them, he takes great pleasure in discussing your suggestions. Not only does it give him a better glimpse into earth and the culture of its inhabitants, but it also allows him to hear about your own tastes in entertainment, and that alone could keep his interest for days. Just hearing you talk about yourself so happily is a delight.

·Unfortunately the fun times are interrupted by an emergency broadcast, one the two of you are equally baffled to find is little more than a garble of indecipherable warnings and instructions. Before any kind of explanation can be requested, the line goes off completely, fading out to silence that doesn't even register static. Having served on many ships in the past, Rung has theories straight away as to what could be going on, and they vary from trivial to concerning. For this though, he wants to err on the side of caution. That means getting somewhere safe. If something is indeed wrong, he explains, help can always be found in a number of key locations. Considering where his room is, he knows the closest safe place is the medical bay.

·Wanting to be wary but not panicked, Rung admittedly struggles over whether or not to get moving. Though he doesn't say why, you know one of his biggest fears is being unable to protect you, something he worries he can't do being adverse to combat. A small smile of encouragement naturally lights up your features as you lay a hand on his. You promise him you trust his judgement no matter what. A look of gratitude is knocked off his face when his whole office trembles, and it's replaced entirely with a look of terror as the ship gives a mighty buck, sending your tiny body flying. An athletic dive saves you from crashing into anything, and instead you find yourself held in a pair of trembling hands when the world levels out. On his knees and quite frazzled from the jolt, the first thing Rung does is ask if you're okay, and he lets out a sigh of relief when you confirm you are.

·The incident gives him the impetus to make up his mind; the two of you are going to head for more secure territory. In agreement despite being so frazzled, you let him take the lead and try to convey just how grateful you are to have him at your side for all of this, holding onto his digits as he prepares to get moving. There's so much obvious planning in the processor behind his furrowed brows you can practically hear the metaphorical wheels turning. He wants to be ready for any possibility, so much so that he grabs his rarely used combat staff from the corner. Despite the circumstances, your heart actually flutters a little; to you he's always looked quite dashing wielding the weapon.

·There's silence when he enters the hallway at last, and it drives him to hug you to his chest in a move that comforts himself just as much as he hopes it comforts you. It certainly helps you feel secure, as the move puts you right beside his spark, one that leaves no doubt as to its status as brightest on the ship. A soft and melodic humming seems to pass straight through his chestplate at all times. Pressing against him, you let the sound soothe the tension from your much smaller body. Even if you can hardly protect him from much of anything, you hope he feels a bit safer in your company, though he's hardly struggling to move boldly through the ship. From a distance one might have even missed the light tremble in his frame.

·Scared as he might be, he's faced situations similar to this before, and came out with the knowledge that it's best to move as he is now; quickly, but quietly, so as to avoid being taken by surprise. However, he had the aid of his natural resilience to get him through past situations alive. Incredible healing abilities have always been a literal life saver, but now, the fact that only he would be saved... The thought of recovery is just as agonizing as any wound when he thinks of you not being there when the physical pain faded. Fear of such an outcome makes him freeze when the first sound of movement meets his audials; there's something rather large nearby, and it isn't an Autobot. Nor is it a Decepticon, further inspection tells him when he listens intently, as he can hear how unnaturally it moves even from his makeshift hiding spot. It has to be one of the attacking forces.

·Rung looks down as you hold your breath, having heard the same sound and doing your best to make sure the alien doesn't find either of you. For an instant you're both left frozen and the air is tense enough to feel as if it's smothering you. Scouting the situation as best he can, the small mech takes note of the fact he only has one usable path to the medical bay from this position, as any other course would require a great deal of backtracking there simply isn't time for. The only viable way forward is this one, and as there's only a single enemy... Looking down at you one final time let's him make a decision. This has to be done, for your sake, and he quickly sets you down in an open yet depowered electrical hatch, one likely left this way by a bot abandoning it in the midst of some maintenance. Hopefully it will keep you safe...

·You know what he's doing when Rung whispers for you to stay down and make a run for it should things "end poorly", but you don't even get a chance to try and stop him, the fear in his optics all but breaking your heart as he disappears from view. Alone in the hatch, a million thoughts storm in an attempt to form a plan. Being so tiny leaves you very few options... Yet a forgotten tool, some kind of Cybertronian screwdriver, opens up a slew of dangerous possibilities. What you assume to be adrenaline fills you so fast you get dizzy, but you don't let that stop you as the makeshift weapon is clenched between your shaking hands. Unbeknownst to you, Rung executes his first attack at the same instant, finishing off an impressive ambush with a ferocious stab intended to end a fight before it can begin.

·Rung isn't surprised when his attack merely staggers his opponent; just dissapointed as the brute turns to retaliate. Bloodied weapon in hand, he simply doesn't have the reflexes to avoid the hit that comes next, though he does manage to land a small puncture wound as a powerful blow slams him against a wall. As he is pinned by the overwhelming weight of a much larger being, he can only think about you... The weapon is immobile in his hand, as useless as he knows he is, and he prays this commotion will at least enable you to escape. Pressure hard enough to crack his armor suspends any thoughts beyond pain as the alien goes in for the kill. Only, it's interrupted by a very unexpected attack at the base of one of its legs, one that staggers it as something tiny and very sharp is stabbed as deep as it can go... by you.

·There's no time to celebrate before a reflexive kick sends you sprawling, your tiny body rolling across the ground from a mere glancing blow. Between the window of opportunity and the glaring rage on your behalf, it's all Rung needs to turn the tide of battle. Though he's sloppy from anger and pain, his staff finds a weak point and the bladed end sinks deep, sending the gargantuan being toppling like a gigantic tree. Before the thud has finished echoing Rung is by your side, kneeling on a visibly damaged leg to look you over. Despite the strength of what hit you, there's something off in how bleary you are as his face spins above you, as if the world is slipping away. Your injured partner can see it too. In fact, anyone could see you're struggling just to breathe, and that sends a chill through his spark. Whether or not this level of incoherencey makes any sense for your manner of injury, he doesn't have time to ask questions, needing to get you somewhere safe instead. All he takes the time for is to plead that you remain awake.

·Before he can damage his leg further by attempting to struggle into a standing position, luck arrives in the form of a squadron of armed bots, who heard the sound of combat and came to investigate. The sight of the ship's tiny phsychiatrist and the hulking alien he obviously killed makes most of their jaws drop. In a rare loss of composure, Rung begs them to take you to the medical bay as fast as possible, tears hidden only by his lenses. Slipping out of consciousness while you're lifted by dexterous hands, you can only be glad he'll be okay, and that despite your tiny size you made a difference... A quick thinking bot heeds the instructions and carts you off for treatment. Rung can only pray help will be given in time, and as he's helped along after you the bitter sense of failure hurts worse than any injury; how could he be so worthless as to let you down in this of all moments?

·The feeling is not at all relieved when he arrives for care of his own and is told that you'll live, only because the true cause of your sudden deterioration strikes him hard. You were suffocating, tiny organic body failing from a lack of critical resources, and yet you'd been forced to save him. Did this mean he had hurt you more than anything else today, because he'd been unable to handle himself, making you waste precious oxygen and energy? As soon as he's patched up he requests to stay alone by your side, which is rather difficult due to how many bots want to praise his efforts in taking down an enemy. Their intentions are at least appreciated. Yet he's left to agonize as he waits for you to stir, removing his glasses so he can hold his head in his hands while the emotions overwhelm him.

·Upon waking, it's hard to ignore the fact that most of your body hurts in one way or another, particularly in a few stretches of your arms and legs where bruises will no doubt be blossoming soon. Yet the mask on your face is what really gives you pause, especially as you open your eyes to see the interior of a medical bay suite. A familiar dash of copper catches your attention before you can think too hard. Rung is just beside you, yet you can't tell if he's awake or powered down by the way his helm is leaning so heavily against his palm. The question is answered as soon as you stir, and his usually bright optics snap open to reveal an exhausted grey. Despite the visible anguish, he smiles as soon as he sees you, reaching forward to brush your cheek as he softly says your name. Static blurs his voice into an uncharacteristic croak.

·A tad bit accustomed to worried minds in confusing situations, he gently relays what led to you being here, trying to remain neutral but slipping in a bit of self admonishment as he gets to his failed defensive effort. The memories flood back despite the injuries you suffered and the lack of oxygen in the moment. A far different scene comes back in your mind's eye, one of a mech valiantly charging into a fight just to give you a chance at escape, and you take hold of his digit despite the pain of moving your arm. When he tries to stop the action you cut him off gently, saying that he's not just the reason you're alive, he was the source of your own burst of courage that resulted in you saving his life. Your love for each other is why you're both here to live another day.

·The devotion in your words takes him by total surprise. For all the adoration he has for you, he's not even accustomed to being remembered by anyone, let alone treasured. Honest as can be, he can only silently wipe away a few happy tears as he requests you forgive him for the self imposed criticism. Smiling back, you promise to do so, and to always help him remember that he's worth all the love you have for him. With tenderness only he could possess, Rung leans down to leave a soft kiss on the side of your head in silent thanks. There simply aren't words for the happiness you give him even in the hardest times...

[oddaodd]

All The Knives That Lacerate Your Brain

· The reader deals with the aftermath of Tommy´s PTSD ·

Warnings: SEASON 4 SPOILERS (kind of), alcohol, depictions of depression and PTSD, blood, tears and a ton of angst. 

Author´s note : Some nights ago I had a sort of abstract dream about Tommy and I was sad all day, so naturally I wrote an angsty imagine to cope with my feelings.

Also, this is based on this one scene. ✨

Her head shot up in alarm at the sound of glass breaking in another room and she immediately knew where it came from. He had barely said hello to her when he had arrived home some hours earlier before locking himself in the parlor, which Y/n knew meant he needed space. But the tumultuous sound proved to be more than enough to make her grow concerned. So she walked out of the library where she had been reading and made her way to find him. 

She ran into Frances In the hallway, she was leading an upset looking Charlie away from the parlor. Y/n shot Frances a questioning glance but Frances just said “I’m putting Charlie to bed” and continued walking, Increasing Y/n´s worries. How bad could it be?

It was bad. When she got to the door she entered and saw him bending down holding his own arms, sobbing silently in front of the dresser, his forearms and hands were bloody and there were broken liquor bottles scattered on the floor near him. The pungent smell of alcohol and cigarette smoke lingering thickly in the air. Y/n immediately scurried to him, the sound of her feet on the wooden flooring promoted Tommy to look up at her and her heart broke a little when she met his eyes. So sad and broken. 

When she was close enough to him, he stood upright casting his eyes to the floor and taking a drag of the cigarette his shaky red fingers held.

“I’m fine” 

Y/n had never heard his voice sound like that, it was merely a whisper, raspy from the smoking and the whisky and with underlining pain, like he was on the verge of tears. 

She ignored his obvious lie and placed her hands on his upper arms, with the intention of leading him to a sofa so she could clean his cuts. But when she touched him, he backed away hastily colliding with the dresser behind him and loosing his balance for a bit before regaining it seconds later, the alcohol’s toll on him. 

“I said I’m fine!” 

Y/n winced slightly at his tone and approached him again cautiously. Hesitantly placing her hands on his upper arms again, looking for any sign of pain or hostility. She didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable, she knew he didn’t like to be around others when he was vulnerable and raw like that, but she wasn’t going to leave him alone not when he was at the worst she had ever seen him. She stood like that with him for a couple of seconds and when he didn’t push her away, she lead him to the sofa, carefully avoiding the shards of glass on the floor. 

He fell less than gently on the sofa and sat there while y/n made her way to the desk where a napkin rested next to the untouched food she had asked Frances to take to him upon his arrival. He put out his  cigarette in the ashtray that rested on the little table next to where he sat, sighing deeply and watching her as she walked back towards him, grabbing a bottle of gin that had managed to survive the crash. She sat next to him, gently taking his left arm on her lap, his palm up, cautiously examining it. 

There weren’t any deep cuts thankfully, but there were some shards puncturing his skin. None of them too tiny for her to be able to take out with her fingers, so she poured some gin on her hands and meticulously took them out, throwing them in the ashtray in which Tommy had put out his cigarette moments earlier. Then she grabbed the napkin and soaked it in gin. 

“This is going to sting a bit, love” she warned him before softly dabbing the damp piece of cloth along his wounds. She knew he knew it would sting, he was no stranger to alcohol on wounds, but she warned him anyway not wanting to startle him. His eyes closed and he sighed at the sting, his fingers clenching softly. 

She started working on his other arm and after she took out the shards and put them with the others he let his head rest on her shoulder with a strained sigh admiring her hands as she worked. Her touch was so soft and gentle, a contrast to everything else he was feeling at the moment. It felt so alien, he couldn’t believe the utter carefulness and tenderness in which she tended to him as if he were going to break. She was always like that with him and he loved that she cared, he would never admit it out loud, but he knew it wasn’t necessary, she knew. 

Y/n´s heart gave a painful throb and a knot formed in her throat, as she felt him shaking ever so slightly, just like he did when he laid in bed after being tormented by nightmares. She hated seeing him in pain, it hurt her like nothing else could, but she pushed the feeling down. It proved to be difficult when she felt a warm tear falling on her shoulder as she cleaned his red right hand which was just a tiny bit less bloody than the left one. He had never let her see him cry before, which made his silent tear a testimony of the severity of the state his mind was in at the time. It had been a rough couple of months after all. 

When she was done with his hand she threw the bloodied napkin on the floor and moved to put the gin away in the cabinet it belonged to, but then he caught her hand in his. The sudden action surprised her and she intended to speak against it, concerned about the fresh cuts on his palm, but decided not to. He needed to feel her, so she put the bottle of gin on the floor and started gently rubbing her thumb on the back of his hand soothingly hoping not to hurt him. 

They Stayed like that for a couple of minutes before she shifted her head a bit to look at him. He looked so exhausted. 

“Let’s get you upstairs” she softly said half questioningly. If he didn’t want to go she wouldn’t force him to despite her not wanting to let him sleep in the sofa. 

He only nodded and she smiled at him weakly, getting up and helping him to his feet. She wrapped her right arm around his waist to keep him steady and he threw his left arm over her shoulder for support. He didn’t wince, maybe his mind was too busy to register pain she thought. Or maybe he was just too drunk. So that only left her with one concern in mind. Charlie. She hoped he was already sleep so he wouldn’t see his dad like that. She knew Tommy wouldn’t like it, but that concern was dismissed too when they both walked past Charlie’s  bedroom to find his door closed and saw no line of light under the door. Poor boy. 

They got to the bedroom Tommy and she shared and he quickly made his way to bed, sitting on the edge, removing his suspenders and throwing them aside. His eyes lost. She sat next to him and looked for his glance but he didn’t look at her. 

Thinking he wanted to be alone and comforted by the thought that he was safe in their room she stood up ready to give him space. But as soon as she did, he grabbed her hand halting her actions once again.

“Stay” He whispered. Finally looking at her. 

She turned around so she was facing him muttering a soft “Of course” before letting him wrap his arms around her middle pulling her to bed with him. Once they were laying down he buried his face in her neck and she rested her chin atop his head. Oddly comforted by the feeling of his weight on her chest and his breathing fanning over her neck. She pressed a sweet kiss to his forehead which prompted him to hold onto her tighter, considerably tighter, a bit too tightly. She didn’t mind, she liked feeling him close to her. Letting him embrace her she felt another tear fall on her neck and then started running her fingers through his hair, occasionally tracing them along his face as well, trying to keep herself from crying at his state. His skin warm and tight from the tears that had dried. After a while she could feel his breathing and his grasp on her becoming softer and softer as he succumbed to a much needed sleep. 

“I love you Tommy Shelby” 

[iamdeku]

Broken Ribs and Whole Hearts

Description: A Deku x Reader where the reader is a nurse who finds an unexpected guest in her emergency room. A continuation of this post.

Warnings: Descriptions of injury/some light gore. Talk of painkillers administered by a medical professional. Fluff.

It was safe to say that when you woke up this morning you weren’t expecting to find the life of the number one hero in your hands.

It wasn’t that you hadn’t worked with heroes before. You had plenty of experience with them, since they had a way of getting themselves hurt. That being said, you’d never worked with this particular hero before, and you were a little bit starstruck.

You wouldn’t call yourself a fan of Deku, but you weren’t not a fan. You saw him on the news all the time, but that was virtually impossible to avoid since he seemed to find his way onto every crime scene. If there was someone who needed help, Deku was there.

Right now though, he was here, bleeding out.

You had heard about the fight from your coworkers. It was hard to avoid hearing about a battle on that scale when you worked in a hospital. You had already been getting civilians in for treatment, but the heroes came last and were, naturally, priority since their injuries tended to be far more severe. Deku was no exception to this rule, and when he was rushed through the doors you were quick to fill your empty hands, not even realizing who he was until you went to assess the patient.

You jolted back a little bit in surprise, seeing the shock of green hair and bleary green eyes peering up at you. In your moment of surprise leaning over him, he cracked a blood-smeared smile.

“Are you an angel?” He asked softly.

“He’s delirious from the blood loss,” you declared, quickly getting to work surveying the rest of the damage. “Several cracked ribs, and I think he may have punctured a lung.”

As you continued to rattle off instructions and commentary, Deku continued staring at you. You, unwittingly, had become his lifeline. He kept his eyes open out of sheer desire not to look away from you. You were so capable, not faltering once after your initial shock. He was in awe of you.

Eventually, Deku was rushed into the operating room, and then he had no choice but to go under. When he woke up though, lo and behold, it was you there, checking his vitals and adjusting some things.

He opened his dry mouth, preparing his cracked voice to speak. “Well if it isn’t the prettiest nurse in all of Musutafu.” 

You jump slightly, not having expected him to wake up. You fidget with your hands, a nervous habit.

“Oh, hello Deku. You’re awake. How are you feeling?”

“I’ve been worse.” Deku would have shrugged, but he knew from experience that would make things worse.

He turned his eyes to the rest of the hospital room, taking a look around. He was in a standard hospital gown, which he joked was his “back-up uniform”. An IV fed drugs into his arm as necessary, and he knew he must be on some pretty good pain killers if the slightly hazy feeling in his head and the warm confidence in his chest were any indication. 

“So, any chance you’ll go out on a date with me?” he asked.

You stiffen in surprise, but then grin teasingly at him. “Wow, the morphine is talking pretty loud today, huh? Who knew the number one hero was such a light-weight? Maybe I should lower your dosage.”

Deku winced. “Please don’t. I have a high pain tolerance, but not that high.”

Your beautiful smile turned to a look of concern.

“Are you in any pain right now?”

Deku quickly shook his head, which actually did cause him some pain from the force of the movement. 

“I’m fine. Just keep doing what you’re doing. It’s working great.” He smiled encouragingly at you.

You visibly relaxed from where you stood by his bedside.

“Okay, well just let me know if you need anything, okay? I’m sure you know the drill, but you can just press this button right here for help.” You showed him where it was.

“Any chance I can get your number before you go?” He asked hopefully, unwittingly throwing you into cardiac arrest.

“I will take away your painkillers, Mr. Midoriya,” you threatened over your shoulder as you walked out.

Little did either of you know it, but Izuku was going to be spending a lot more time with you. His tendency to get injured on your shifts almost made you believe he was doing it on purpose. You asked him once when he was drugged up, but he would admit to nothing, only giving you a slightly loopy smile before falling asleep.

Once he was settled into his hospital rooms though, he made no secret of it. He would blatantly request you, or rather, “the prettiest nurse in Musutafu.”

“You know I have a name right?” you asked, looking at his chart like you didn’t have it basically memorized.

“Yes, I just happen to think this more fitting. I can stop if it bothers you though.” 

Suddenly your confident hero had turned into a Christmas tree, whole face from the neck up turning red as a cherry. Feeling a desperate need to sooth him, you hurriedly corrected yourself.

“No, this is fine! I mean, I can’t really complain, can I?”

“Pretty sure you just did,” he teased.

You two continued on in this way until you would nearly consider yourself friends with the hero. In fact, you had started a routine of eating lunch with each other after an incident where you had both been in the hospital cafeteria at the same time and had sat together. Since then you had repeated the encounter a few times, though never exactly on purpose. You had even gone to dinner with him once, just as friends, to some fancy new restaurant he claimed to need a date to, since eating alone was ‘boring’. You had grown into a comfortable rhythm with him over time, and then it happened.

It was the first rain of the season, and you had your window open to let in the smell. You were peacefully making some soup in your kitchen on your night off. Your gray sweats clung to your hips, comfy t-shirt wrapping you up under the warm lighting of your cozy kitchen. The cheerful paint of the walls beamed at you as you swayed softly, humming along to the song on the radio.

All of your peace was shattered the moment Deku fell through your window, hand clutching his side, at the exact same moment your tea kettle screamed at you. You quickly moved it off the heat, nearly sloshing water onto your usually steady hands before rushing across the room to your fallen hero.

“Izuku!” you gasped, turning him over on the floor.

He smiled up at you, not looking nearly as concerned as he should be.

“Hi.”

“Why are you here? You should be in a hospital.”

“I just wanted to see you.” He reached up to cup your cheek in his warm, broken hand.

“You can’t be here Izuku. You’re hurt.”

“You’re my nurse. You’ll take care of me.”

He smiled at you with so much faith it cracked something in your chest. An overflowing font of affection for this man, this hero, welled up in you, begging to be let out. You thought of every time you had seen him broken, the implicit trust he had in you to piece him back together. To take care of him. 

You swallowed down your tears, mirroring the smile on his face, trying to be as brave as he was. “You have a stab wound in your side. It doesn’t look too deep, but you still need serious medical attention.”

“It’s just a scratch.”

He was staring at you, those deep green eyes brushing up against your soul, flirting with your deepest secrets, dancing around the unspoken truths weighing down your tongue, things you both knew. Things neither of you could say, as far as you were concerned, but Izuku Midoriya had always had an open heart and a loose tongue, and so he said them slow and easy, honey slipping through his teeth and coating his cracked lips.

“Kiss me.” 

“That...that wouldn’t be very ethical of me.” Despite your words you are leaning in, nose brushing his.

It is not a demand, not a question, not a request. It is a gasping, haunting, wavering plea, he is begging and you are teetering on the edge of a cliff you wouldn’t admit existed until you were borderline tumbling off of it.

"Can I...?"

This time it is a question, and you find yourself drawn into him. He is the Jupiter to your Io, and you are lost to a constellation, entwined in your own milky way. Your shadow blends into his, pressed flat against the grain of your wood floors, as your lips whisper against his. It is barely a touch, just a taste of what is to come, but it is all the permission he needs.

He surges forward to kiss you, and it is something foreign, something incomprehensible as he catches you with his chapped lips. He tastes of bitter, salty blood as the rush of his breath fills you, slipping down your throat and curling through your lungs. You have never done this before, never felt whatever is warping the planes of your chest and the contours of your heart. It is as though you have met yourself in him.

It is a ravaging sort of feeling, even though the kiss itself is achingly soft, heartbreakingly slow. He is so gentle with you, as though you are the breakable one here, when in fact you have had to put him back together too many times to count. You allow it though, you allow it because you have seen firsthand how Izuku Midoriya’s large, scarred hero hands touch everything with this sort of gentle kindness, a piece of his heart slipping through the spaces between his knuckles and digging into the pads of his fingertips. 

When you pull away it is slowly, reluctantly, a smile taking over your face. Izuku's smile matches yours, his eyes sparkling as he reaches up to brush a thumb across your lip, a light laugh escaping him. It is this action that brings you back to yourself, snaps you out of your haze as his thumb streaks blood across the swell of your mouth. Your body jerks back away from him suddenly, and worry flickers over his face.

"Izuku Midoriya! How dare you distract me like that! Did you think I wouldn't take you to the hospital if you kissed me?"

He has the nerve to look a little guilty.

"I don't need to go, really. It will just inconvenience them."

You grind your teeth. "We. Are. Going."

And over time, Izuku learns that eventually, all roads lead to the hospital. Because all roads lead to you.

[rosiehunterwolf]

For the Romping and the Roaring- Part 3

My submission for Day 3 of @serpentfever's Inhuman Event!

Link to read on ffn.net (Recommended if you are on mobile or haven't read the previous parts yet)

Preview:

Dammit, this was all his fault! He was so pathetic, how had he let this happen?

The hairs on the back of his neck tingled, and he glanced up and caught sight of Borg standing outside his cell, staring at him.

“You almost messed up everything, you brat. I’m not going to forget that.”

The pain increased again, and Kai screamed, feeling his eyes roll back in his head as blackness swamped at the edges of his vision.

“Turn it down, I don’t want him passing out.”

The pain dropped suddenly, and Kai gasped in relief, tears streaming down his face. It wasn’t gone completely, though- there was still a faint buzzing emitting from the collar- not enough to be painful, but enough to put him on edge.

Enough to remind him that he wasn’t the one in control here.

(Full chapter under the cut)

Prompts Used: Chase, Dehumanized

Word Count: 9,206 (welp we're back to browser-crashing length again)

Rating: Definitely T, maybe like T+

Trigger Warnings: Dehumanization (obviously), Imprisonment, Torture, Attempted Murder, Drugs, Blood, Depression, Suicidal Thoughts (yeah… this one’s pretty heavy, guys. Probably the darkest thing i've ever written...)

Consciousness came slowly, as if the air around him was thick and sticky. A metallic tang filled his mouth, and his limbs felt weighted and heavy. Everything hurt, and Kai wanted nothing more than to just fall back into the comfort of sleep, but his head was throbbing too much to do so. Breathing slowly, he opened his eyes.

At first, he just saw more darkness, and he wondered if he had even opened his eyes at all. After a few minutes of just staring at the ceiling, though, enough light made its way to his eyes that he could make out the long, steel bars that made up the far wall. Shackles dug into his wrists, the chain only giving him enough room to move his hands up to a foot apart, and another restraint, around his right ankle, was attached to a chain a couple yards long that tied him to where it was bolted to the floor in the corner. His muzzle was gone, although there was a leather band strapped around his throat, almost like some sort of collar. The cell was completely empty except for a toilet in the corner, and a sorry excuse for a mattress against the back wall.

Groaning, he raised his hands and rubbed his face, slowly pulling himself into a sitting position. Immediately, fluid rushed into his throat, and he choked, spitting and sending blood splattering all over the concrete. Running his tongue against the roof of his mouth, he felt the puncture wounds and realized that he must’ve bit down on it sometime when he had been unconscious. Coughing up the rest of the blood, he forced himself to breathe slowly, trying to ignore his stinging tongue.

When he had gotten his bearings a little better, he squinted, peering through the bars. In the cell across from him, Nya laid sprawled out on the floor, her chest rising and falling steadily as she slept. There was a nasty cut across her forehead, blood dripping into her eyes. Kai tasted the air, trying to catch the scent of any other injuries she might’ve had, but the scent of his own blood flooded his nostrils, blocking out anything else.

Against the back wall of the room, between their two cells, was the other occupied cell, where Lloyd was curled up on his mattress, the ashy gray color stained red beneath where his injured leg was stretched out. His chains were similar to the ones Kai and Nya had, although a significant amount shorter, so he could hardly even move around the cell.

Forcing himself to jerk his gaze away, he looked in the other direction. A few more cells stretched down the hallway, but they were all empty.

They were utterly alone.

The only sign of life in the place was the thin crack of light from underneath the door at the end of the hallway. Apart from that, though, the room was pitch black.

Kai leaned back against the wall with a huff. He had really done it now, hadn’t he? Gotten them all thrown in prison- they were likely either going to die or be kept here for the rest of their lives. There was no way that Borg would ever give them any freedom again, now that they knew too much.

There really was no escaping this one, was there?

Augh, if only him and Nya hadn’t had that stupid argument, they would be safe, back with the others right now.

Kai wondered how long they had been here. Had the others noticed their absence yet? Would they try to come after them?

As much as he wanted to be saved, wanted Nya and Lloyd to be safe, he really hoped they didn’t. The last thing he needed right now was the others being thrown in here with them. He hoped they ran far, far, away and never came back.

Kai wished for nothing more than to be back with them now, to feel one of Cole’s strong hugs, or Zane’s comforting presence, or even to hear one of Jay’s horrible jokes.

Kai buried his face in his knees and cried.

He just wanted to go home.

A soft moan sounded from across the room. “...Kai?”

Kai lifted his head briefly, meeting Nya’s tired, scared expression. “What?”

“What happened? Where are we?”

“Borg found us. He’s keeping us prisoner.” He lowered his face back into his knees, not even having the strength to hold his neck up anymore.

“Have you seen him yet? Borg?”

“No.”

“Have you spoken to anyone yet? Has anyone come down here?”

“No.”

Sensing the frustration in his tone, Nya fell silent. He heard the rattle of chains as she paced around the cell. For a long time, that was the only sound he heard, and after a while, he laid, face up, on his mattress, the sound of the chains the only thing reminding him that he wasn’t alone down here.

It could’ve been minutes or hours later when a noise sounded from the other side of the room. Kai sat up, glaring.

The door on the far end swung open, and light washed into the room. Kai threw his arms over his face, hissing at the brightness of it. After only a moment, though, the light faded, and Kai lowered his arms to see the door had been shut again. Flashlights clicked on, shining down the hall, and Kai squinted, catching sight of two trainers, and a vet, none of whose names Kai could remember.

With them, was Borg.

Nya growled at him, gripping the bars of her cell. “What do you want with us?”

“What I wanted was for you to do as you were told,” Borg told her, shining the light in her eyes, “but you just had to go and mess that up, didn’t you.”

Nya blinked furiously at the harsh light, but didn’t back down. “You wanted us to stand by and do nothing as you killed Lloyd?”

“Certain words are not meant for certain ears, dear. You two shouldn’t have been there that night. You really did make things much, much more complicated than they needed to be.”

“Why did you do it,” Kai snapped. “Why did you ever shelter us in the first place if all you were going to do was kill us?”

“Not you,” Borg corrected. “Only the boy. He messed everything up. The rest of you were supposed to be incredibly useful.”

“Stop dodging the question.”

“Boy, I am not dodging anything.” He turned his flashlight’s beam on Kai, his face suddenly looking a lot more threatening than Kai had ever seen it. “You are the one avoiding the truth here. I didn’t ‘take you in’ from anywhere. I made you. You and your mutant friends are nothing more than a lab experiment.”

Kai fell back from the bars, breathing out heavily. He heard Nya gasp, but he didn’t look at her. He didn’t look at anything, just at the ground.

“The truth stings, doesn’t it? You aren’t anything special, you aren’t unique. You were merely a trial for what is to come.”

“A trial for what?” Nya growled.

“You and your friends have been plenty useful. You have been resources to study, to sample DNA from, a test to see if we could contain you before we started making the others.”

Kai blinked. “Others?”

“Of course. You and your friends obviously didn’t work out- and you’re all too far gone now.”

“I don’t understand,” Kai asked. “Why do you want more… more people like us? You obviously don’t care about us.”

“I care about what you can do. Imagine the potential- a legion of seemingly normal people, such as yourself- who can, in the blink of an eye, transform into an army of great beasts! People who could fly, who could cross great distances in the blink of an eye, those who could hear our enemies coming from a mile away, or who could wield the strength of ten men. I’d be unstoppable!”

Kai and Nya exchanged horrified glances. “You’re building an army? What for?”

“Kai, my dear boy. Borg Industries is powerful, but we cannot do whatever we please. We still have so many regulations, limitations, and surveillance. Biotechnology, such as what we have developed, could change the world. But the world is deeply rooted in tradition, afraid of change. They would shun us, sue us for our groundbreaking discoveries, when we deserved to be praised and cheered for. What we need is more power. And power never comes for free. True power is only won through brute force.”

“You’ll never get anyone to comply with that,” Kai hissed. “We’re not objects, we’re living, breathing beings. You can’t just bend that to your will.”

“Oh, but we will. In time, anything can be controlled. We just need to make a few altercations to our future experiments. Something you and your friends have made incredibly easy by being our test subjects over the last couple decades. Your kind is really quite fascinating, you know.”

Kai bared his teeth and roared at him, but Borg merely laughed. “See, the problem with you is that we made you too human. Too sentient. There needs to be some balance, of course- a wild animal is untamed, it has no master- but a human being has too many weaknesses, too many thoughts of rebellion and betrayal.” Narrowing his eyes at Kai, he added, “Something we found out the hard way.

“We got closer with the child- his instincts appeared to be less humane, and he didn’t cause so much of a fuss.” He paused, frowning. “That is, until a few weeks ago.

“I think where we went wrong with him was the species. An oni and a dragon- two of the most powerful creatures known to man- we thought he would have unspeakable power. And he did- but it was too much, too much to be contained.

“But he has been a valuable resource- we shall use what we have learned with him to create a somewhat less powerful species. This time, we will get it right.”

Nya hissed at him, and he scowled, leaning over and spitting on her.

“The child has been very useful, indeed, but he has served his purpose, now. We no longer have a use for him.” Gesturing to the vet with one hand, she stepped forward, the carefully wrapped parcel in her hands now visible as she, Borg, and the trainers walked towards Lloyd’s cage.

“No!” Kai roared, jolting to his feet and racing to the bars. “Get away from him!”

“It’s for your own good. This child could off you in your sleep, if he so wished.”

Time was moving in slow motion. The door of Lloyd’s cage swung open with an eerie creak, and they filed inside. The vet unwrapped the parcel, revealing a syringe filled with a blue liquid, and a long, pointed needle on the end.

“Don’t you fuckin’ touch him!” Kai screamed, shaking at the bars of the cell. “You’re a deranged, psychotic, murdering bi-”

“Please, Dr. Borg, reconsider,” Nya whined, cutting off Kai’s violent string of curses. “We’ll be good, we’ll do what you want, just don’t kill him, please-”

“Shut up, the both of you,” Borg snapped. “We’re trying to work here. Nya, stop your sniveling, we know you’re not on our side. You’re no use to us anymore- Kai, stop trying to break through the bars, don’t you think we thought of that? Why do you think these cells are here in the first place? I had them made a while ago, as a precaution. They’re specifically tailored to counteract your special abilities. Nothing you do is going to break them.”

“I’ll kill you, I’ll find a way out of here and I’ll murder you-”

Borg sighed. “He’s losing it.” Turning to a trainer, he asked, “Turn it on, will you?”

The trainer pulled a small remote from his pocket, and turned a little dial.

Sharp, stinging pain shot through Kai’s neck, and he yelped, falling back from the bars and gripping at his neck- which was when he remembered the leather band there.

“I’m not-” he reached out, gasping as he wrapped a hand around one of the bars. “You’re not making me-”

The pain increased, and Kai doubled over, wheezing, his eyes watering. “Ahhh!”

“Kai!” Nya yelped. “Stop it, what are you doing to him?”

“Handy little device your trainers whipped up for you. Human shock collar. You like it? Except these things can deliver a lot more voltage than the kind people put on their dogs.”

“Stop it, please-” he moaned. Pins and needles were stabbing into his neck, the zinging reverberating down his spine.

“Do it, while he’s distracted.”

Kai pushed back against the pain, rolling his eyes up so that he could see Lloyd. The boy was still sleeping soundly on the mattress, although one ear was twitching slightly. Or maybe that was just the collar, vibrating him.

“Lloyd!” He screamed, the collar making his voice tremble. “Wake up, wake up, they’re going to-”

The pain increased tenfold, and Kai choked, falling to his knees. He gritted his teeth, and they chattered from the vibrations. He wasn’t giving up, he couldn’t-

“Lloyd!”

The roar ripped through the room, echoing off the walls and causing everyone in the room to flinch. Lloyd jerked awake, squealing as he caught sight of Borg and the needle. Leaping off of the mattress, he darted across the cell in a flash-

He stumbled with a squeak of pain as he tripped over his injured leg, tumbling to the floor. The trainers and Borg surrounded him, boxing him in as the vet approached slowly with the needle.

“Lloyd, fight! Fight back!”

Lloyd hissed in the vet’s face, fire shooting from his throat. The vet cried out, stumbling back. One of the trainers grabbed at him, and Lloyd whipped around, chomping down on her hand.

“He bit me,” she shrieked, pulling back. “The brat bit me, I’m probably going to get like, rabies or something!”

“You’ll be fine,” Borg snapped, “just stop him!”

Lloyd hissed in his face, jumping from the man’s hand as he reached for him-

Just as the vet stabbed the needle into his thigh.

Kai, Nya, and Lloyd screamed.

The pain from the shock collar barely registered anymore, the burning in his chest so much stronger. Kai gripped the bars of the cell, rage and fear and despair wracking his body so he didn’t even know how to function.

Borg had done it, he had killed him, he was gone-

Kai’s stomach heaved, and he turned away, throwing up across the concrete. How could this be happening, what had he done to deserve this, what had Lloyd done?

He hugged his knees to his chest, sobs shuddering through him, teeth rattling. He hadn’t even been able to save one person, he had failed everyone, Zane and Cole and Jay were going to hate him when they found out their baby brother was dead and Kai had done nothing to stop it-

Not that it mattered, it wasn’t like he was going to ever see them again.

Dammit, this was all his fault! He was so pathetic, how had he let this happen?

The hairs on the back of his neck tingled, and he glanced up and caught sight of Borg standing outside his cell, staring at him.

“You almost messed up everything, you brat. I’m not going to forget that.”

The pain increased again, and Kai screamed, feeling his eyes roll back in his head as blackness swamped at the edges of his vision.

“Turn it down, I don’t want him passing out.”

The pain dropped suddenly, and Kai gasped in relief, tears streaming down his eyes. It wasn’t gone completely, though- there was still a faint buzzing emitting from the collar- not enough to be painful, but enough to put him on edge.

Enough to remind him that he wasn’t the one in control here.

Not that Kai really cared anymore. Lloyd was dead. Nothing mattered.

Kai wanted to die.

---

Over the next few hours- days? minutes? he didn’t know, and frankly, he didn’t care- weariness dragged at Kai, but sleep wouldn’t come. No, sleep would be too easy, too peaceful. Instead, he laid awake, staring at the ceiling as darkness sapped at his limbs. He didn’t move to the mattress, just stayed on the floor. Maybe the coolness of the concrete could alleviate some of the raging heat storming inside of him.

Every once in a while, he mustered the strength to crawl over the toilet so he could throw up. He didn’t know why he bothered. Being hygienic didn’t matter to him anymore. Nothing mattered.

After the third time, though, he had thrown up everything his stomach had to give, and when his insides kept churning, he just rested his head on the side of the toilet and dry heaved.

“Kai,” Nya whispered after a minute of this. “Stop, you’re just going to make yourself sick again.”

“I don’t care,” he rasped, his throat dry and raw.

“Damn that, I don’t want to lose you too.”

“We’re all going to die down here eventually.”

She fell silent at that. She knew he was right.

“You’re scaring Lloyd, Kai. Don’t let him see you like this.”

“Are you delusional, Nya? Lloyd’s gone.”

“Not yet,” she whimpered. “It… it hasn’t kicked in yet. I guess it must take a while until… anyway, see for yourself.”

“I don’t want to. I’m scared.”

“He’s here, I promise you.”

“What if it’s too painful? I don’t want to see him if I’m just going to lose him in a few minutes.”

“What if you miss out on your only chance to see him one more time?”

Kai was quiet for a moment. Mustering all the strength he had left, he slowly turned over.

Lloyd was sitting at the edge of his cell, staring at him. He was smiling softly at Kai, but his eyes were fearful. Kai tried to ignore how his ears were drooping, how his tail hung limp, and his eyelids heavy with sleep, one he would never wake up from-

Kai broke into tears, and Lloyd churred softly, leaning against the bars as he reached his fingers through. Kai did the same, although there was still a gaping distance between them.

“I’m scared,” he whispered.

“I’m sorry,” Kai choked through the tears. “I’m sorry this happened to you. You don’t deserve any of it.”

“‘s not your fault,”

“It’s not yours, either,” Nya told him. “None of this happened because of you. I want you to remember that, okay? Don’t… don’t think about that, now.”

Nya buried her face in her hands, whimpering. Lloyd leaned his face on the bars. “I love you guys.”

“We love you too, bud,” Kai whispered. “More than you will ever know.”

---

Sleep found him eventually- that, or lack of fluids caused him to pass out. Either way, some time had passed by the time he drug his eyelids open again.

Squinting, he realized there were people standing in front of Lloyd’s cell. Sounds filtered in slowly, taking a moment to come through clearly.

“-don’t understand, why hasn’t it kicked in yet? He should’ve stopped breathing long ago.”

“I’m not sure. This should have worked. It might have something to do with his lineage, I suppose- perhaps his genes grant him extra immunity to fight back against it.”

“That seems logical. He definitely seems very drowsy and sluggish, so it obviously had some effect on him-”

“But not the one we wanted,” a third voice snapped. As consciousness came fully, he connected the voice to Borg. “Apparently he’s immune to euthenasia drugs, now? What next? This is only more proof of what I’ve been saying- he’s becoming more dangerous. We should’ve killed him right away, that first night, when we had the chance.”

“It’s alright, sir, we still have time. He’s not going anywhere, down here. We can develop a stronger serum.”

“Do you think it will work?”

“With the right blood samples from him, I can be confident of it.”

“How soon can you have it ready?”

“A few days, a week- it’s hard to tell until I start.”

“Fine. But it better work this time. Or you’re fired.”

“You have my word, sir.”

Footsteps echoed past his cell, then down the hall. The sound of the door swinging shut determined they had left. Kai sat up immediately.

“Nya! Did you hear that?”

“It didn’t work,” she breathed. “He’s going to be okay!”

“For now. How long do you think it’s going to take them to make the new drug?”

“If I know Borg, I wouldn’t bet on long. We have to find a way out of here before we actually do lose him.”

“But how?” He breathed out, falling back against the wall. “We’re trapped here. The securative measures aren’t exactly light. I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”

Nya was quiet for a moment. “We’ll figure something out.”

“I sure hope so.”

Nya turned towards Lloyd’s cell, pressing her face against the bars. “How’re you doing, Lloydster?”

Lloyd murmured sleepily at her, and she sighed. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad it didn’t kill him, but I hope it doesn’t make him sick.”

“Yeah. It seems like he’s just tired, but who knows.”

The door swung open again, and the two shied back from the light. Two people shuffled in, both unfamiliar, and Kai eyed them warily.

They were young, probably not much older than Cole. Kai was surprised that Borg was even letting them know that Kai and the other hybrids existed, not to mention letting them in their cell block alone.

The male stretched out his hand as he passed, letting his knuckles clack against the bars eerily.

“What do you want,” Kai snapped.

“Chill out, mutant boy, I’m here to feed you.”

Just at the mention of food, Kai’s stomach rumbled. His mouth watered, and against his will, he found himself leaning towards the man. He hadn’t eaten- or drank- anything since the morning of their capture- which, although he had no idea how much time had passed, felt like forever ago. He had even considered drinking out of the toilet at one point, but had decided he wasn’t that desperate.

Yet.

The man laughed at his expression. “Check it out, Em. They really are like animals.”

Kai clenched his teeth, surging up to the bars. “Listen, you punk, you don’t know-”

He was interrupted as his shock collar went off, screaming with pain as he rolled to his knees, frothing at the mouth. He heard shrieks from Nya and Lloyd too, but he was in too much pain to move. The rusty hinges of his cell door screeched as the man entered, laying two metal bowls by the wall. He felt his arms get tugged back, metal cuffs clicking around them. He wanted to kick and hiss at the man, hurt him while he was still within distance, but the pain from the collar stopped him.

There was a dry, rattling sound as the man filled his bowls, then exited the cell, locking the door firmly. Then, finally, the pain dropped away.

“What was that for,” he rasped, his voice still raw from the sudden shock.

“Couldn’t have you fighting back, could we?”

Kai grimaced. He glanced over at Nya and Lloyd and saw they had been cuffed too. “Why do we need handcuffs to eat? Isn’t that sort of counterintuitive?”

“Borg says you’re feisty. Doesn’t want to take the chance of you using anything that’s not bolted down to your advantage. Or to try and kill yourself. He wants to keep you around for a while yet, in case he needs to do any more testing.”

“You think I could escape- or kill myself- with a bowl?”

“You’d be surprised what people can do when they’re desperate. Now, eat up- unless you want to be handcuffed the rest of the night.”

Kai turned to the bowls, squinting at them. One was filled with a gritty-looking water that didn’t seem much more appealing than the toilet water. The other was filled with small, hard, brown pellets.

“What is this, dog food?” Nya scoffed.

The woman smiled. “That’s exactly what it is, sweetheart. What, you weren’t expecting a five-course meal, were you?”

“You can’t seriously expect us to eat this!”

“Would you rather have no food?” The woman asked sweetly. “I’m sure that could be arranged.”

Nya went quiet, but her nose wrinkled as she stared down at the food.

Kai sighed. As unappetizing as it was, it beat the horrible hunger pangs, or passing out from dehydration. He went to reach for the bowl-

Then he remembered the handcuffs.

“How the hell are we supposed to eat with our hands tied behind our backs?”

The guy smiled wickedly. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out, kitty.”

Kai felt his face turn bright red. They wanted them to eat from the bowl like dogs. This was humiliating.

But he was so hungry. He didn’t know when the next opportunity for food would come.

Leaning down, he scooped up a mouthful of the pellets. They were gritty and sour, one of the worst things Kai had ever tasted in his life, but at this point he didn’t care. He could hear the man and woman who had brought the food laughing and jeering behind him, and he tried to ignore it. It was this, or starve.

After he had finished the food, he burped at the awful taste, trying to suppress the urge to throw it all up. But he forced himself to lick the sides of the bowl, getting every bit of food he could scrounge.

The dry, salty taste of the dog food had only worsened his thirst now, and by this point he didn’t care how dirty the water looked, setting upon it with frantic laps of his tongue. He immediately found it to be much harder than eating. Water dribbled down his chin, so by the time the bowl was empty, his front side was soaked and only about half of the liquid had actually been swallowed. The man and woman got a kick out of that, joking that he had wet himself. Kai had never felt worse than this in his life. He would rather take the pain from the shock collar. He had wanted to go hide behind the toilet for the rest of the night, but knew that would only make the teasing worse.

After what seemed like forever, Nya and Lloyd finally finished their meals and the man and woman turned their attention away from Kai. The shock collars were turned on again, and Kai was once again helplessly paralyzed with pain as the man came in and removed his handcuffs, put the more flexible shackles back on, and took away the bowls. When the cell doors were locked, the shock collars were turned off. Kai forced himself to stay still until the man and woman were gone, but as soon as the room’s door was shut, he collapsed into a ball, hugging himself and shivering.

No one spoke for a long time after that, letting him know that he wasn’t the only one deeply disturbed by their experience.

Kai’s sleep was broken and feverish that night, filled with dreams of him, Lloyd, and Nya locked up in a giant kennel. Children kept peering in, poking their fingers at them and barking at them. They dressed him up in bows and made him do tricks, laughing and giving him dog treats when he complied, and zapping him with the shock collar when he didn’t.

He burst awake in a cold sweat, crying with relief when he realized it had just been a dream.

He didn’t fall asleep again after that, even though his whole body felt heavy with exhaustion.

The next time the door opened, he scrambled back from the light, hissing. His head was aching, and the darkness offered the only sort of comfort right now.

But he was ignored, four trainers walking past his and Nya’s cages and towards the one on the end. Instantly, Kai was at the bars, watching them carefully with bared teeth. If they tried to pull something again-

Well, what was he going to do? He was helpless in here.

Glancing over, he saw a pair of yellow-green eyes glowing in the darkness and knew that Nya was watching, too.

The door of Lloyd’s cage slowly creaked open, and a pair of trainers slipped in. Lloyd hissed at them as they approached, and they stopped. Slowly, one of the trainers reached out, and Lloyd snapped at his hand, and he yanked it away, barely escaping unscathed.

The other trainer grabbed an object from his pocket that Kai recognized as the remote to the shock collars, and Kai immediately shied back, trembling as he remembered the pain.

“Behave, mutant,” the trainer with the remote snapped. “Or we will not hesitate to turn this on.”

Lloyd looked at the remote with wide eyes, his ears pressed flat against his head. Kai had been in some of the worst pain of his life the previous night- or whenever it had been, his internal clock had been all thrown off by the dark dungeon- and Lloyd was less than half his size. He didn’t want to think about how hard it must’ve been on his little body.

Reaching down, the other trainer in the cell clipped something onto his collar, then unfurled it. It was a blue, leather leash.

The trainer with the remote pulled a key out of his pocket and crouched down next to Lloyd. He hesitated, giving him a pointed glare. “Remember, no funny business.” Swiftly, he unlocked the chain around his leg.

Lloyd bolted, immediately falling to the floor as the trainer switched on the collar. Lloyd whimpered, writhing, and Kai growled, “Stop!”

A trainer outside of the cage whipped around. “Be quiet, or we won’t hesitate to turn yours on, too.”

“Turn it off,” another one said. “He needs to have strength to walk.”

Lloyd fell still, chest heaving as the collar deactivated. “You’re not going anywhere, pet,” the trainer with the leash scoffed, giving the leash a sharp tug for emphasis. “So don’t even try.”

The trainers filed out of the cage, tugging Lloyd none-to-genly behind them.

“What are you going to do to him?” Kai growled. “Where are you taking him?”

“Your little mutant has proven to be quite stubborn,” one of the trainers scowled. “But our vets are some of the best out there. With only a few blood samples, we’ll have a strong enough drug, don’t you worry.”

“He’s lost too much blood already,” Kai hissed. “You can’t do that.”

“What does it matter to us if he passes out? The creature is of no value to us- in fact, that would only make our job easier.”

Kai roared at her, and a sharp jolt zapped through him. He glared at the trainers. “It’s going to take more than that to quiet me.”

“Careful. If you cause too much trouble, we might zap the little guy, too.”

Kai snapped his jaws shut, his gaze drifting to Lloyd, who was struggling to his feet as the collar tugged tightly at his neck.

“Come on, pet,” the trainer holding Lloyd’s leash demanded. “We don’t have all day.”

Lloyd stumbled after him, but after only a few steps, his bad leg gave out and he tumbled to the floor, crying out.

“Get up!” The trainer yanked on the leash, jolting Lloyd towards him.

“Stop it, he can’t walk on that leg!” Nya cried. “It’s still injured!”

“Then crawl,” the trainer snapped, kicking him forward, and Lloyd jerked onto his hands and knees, shuffling after the trainers slowly.

Kai watched him pass, his ears flattened and his tail tucked between his legs as he was yanked along by the leash, and felt a sick feeling rise in his stomach. This wasn’t right, it was humiliating and a blatant disregard of dignity.

He didn’t understand how he had gone so long in Borg Tower without realizing the signs. How they had always been viewed as lesser, as objects for Borg’s use. No one had ever cared about them. All the toys, the trinkets, the gadgets, the outings- had been nothing but a trick to make them feel like they were worth something.

Nya had been right. As soon as they got out of here, Kai was gonna let Lloyd be whoever he wanted to be, and not make him change for anybody.

If they got out of here.

Kai crawled into the corner of his cage and curled up in a ball, hugging his knees to his chest, trying to ignore the depressing thoughts raging around in his head. He couldn’t afford to listen to them right now, right now he was just trying to focus on not throwing up. He didn’t know how long it would be until they next got food or water.

He was faintly aware of the shivers wracking his body, and wondered if he was coming down with something. He wouldn’t be surprised- he hadn’t consumed anything but dog food and stale water since they had been here, and had been wearing the same crusty clothes the whole time, too. There hadn’t even been a sink provided in the cage, not that it would do much to help him without soap, anyway.

Just another problem to add the list, he supposed.

It was funny how, before they had been captured, he had been so resentful and stressed about their situation, thinking it was one of the worst times of his life.

He would give pretty much anything to have those problems back, now.

---

“It’s been twelve hours since they were supposed to be back,” Jay yelped, pacing back and forth, his footsteps echoing sharply with an unusual agitation. “Even if something had happened, they would’ve come back by now, or at least called us.”

“They could’ve ran out of minutes,” Cole rationalized. “These damn prepaids don’t last very long.”

“But why wouldn’t they come back? Kai and Nya would never worry us like this, not unless they didn’t have a choice in the matter.”

“I know.” Cole ran his fingers through his hair. “But maybe they escaped. Maybe they ran and didn’t want to risk leading anyone back here.”

“I hope you’re right. If anything’s happened to them-” his lip quivered, and he looked away as tears pricked his eyes.

“Jay, it’s going to be okay.” Cole reached out, setting a hand on his shoulder. “We’re going to find them.”

“You can’t promise that,” Jay barked, flinching away.

“No. But I’m going to do everything in my power to try. They’re our family, Jay. Family doesn’t give up on family.”

“I know,” Jay sniffed, wiping at his eyes. “I’m just scared.”

Cole wrapped his hands around him, letting Jay bury his face in his shoulder. “Me too, bud. Me too.”

Jay and Cole jumped nearly a foot in the air as the door swung open, and Cole let out a breath of relief as he realized it was only Zane.

“Did you find anything?”

Zane shook his head. “No sign of them anywhere. I even asked a few of the shopkeepers- as many as I could without raising suspicion, anyway- by showing them a photo I had. A few of them thought they looked familiar, but no one was able to tell me where they went or if they had seen anything out of the ordinary.”

“We have to do something,” Jay insisted. “If they’re being held hostage somewhere, who knows what they’ll do to them.”

“What can we do?” Cole asked. “I want to do something as much as you do, but we don’t have anywhere to start. We don’t even know where they are.”

“Maybe not,” Zane admitted, “but we can make an educated guess. The most likely reason that Kai and Nya have not gotten back to us is that they were captured. There are two main parties most likely responsible. Borg Industries- and the Ninjago City Police.”

Jay frowned. “How do we know the police are against us?”

“We don’t. But we can’t entirely clear them yet, either. If they found out Kai, Nya, and Lloyd’s secret, they could possibly see them as a threat and lock them up.”

“But if hybrids like us are such a rare thing, the news would be all over this if the police had discovered them,” Cole pointed out. “We’re basically living under a rock in here, but you would’ve seen something, like on TV or somewhere, when you went out, wouldn’t you have?”

“Fair point. So we can most likely conclude that it was Borg that found them.”

Jay put his head in his hands. “Last time we saw Borg, he wanted to kill Lloyd. If we’re going to do something, we better hurry.”

“Where do you think he’s keeping them?” Cole asked. “Borg Tower?” “That feels too simple,” Jay muttered. “He knows that’s the first place we’d look. But at the same time, I have no idea where else they would be.”

“We can’t just storm the building,” Zane argued. “There’s only three of us. Even with our enhanced abilities, it would never be enough to get through Borg’s headquarters. If we even knew where to begin looking for them, that is. Borg Tower isn’t exactly small.”

“What options do we have?” Jay whined. “We can’t afford to waste any time. We have no idea what Borg could be doing to them right now. And, besides, even if we could wait a while, it’s not like we’re magically going to gain more allies or anything.”

“We need to come up with some sort of plan,” Zane insisted, “Otherwise we’re going to end up getting captured too, which won’t help anyone.”

“You’re both right. We can’t go in without a plan, but we can’t afford to wait, either. And no one’s going to have an epiphany just sitting around here thinking. If we’re going to make a plan that’ll work, we need more information.”

“How do you suggest we get it?” Zane frowned.

“We sneak down and scope out Borg Tower. We don’t breach it, just observe what we can from afar.”

Jay glanced at him skeptically. “You really think we’ll be able to find out much like that?”

“Does anyone else have any better ideas?”

No one said anything.

“Then it’s settled. That’s what we’re doing.”

“When do we set out?” Jay asked.

“I would like to leave as soon as possible, but it’s just too risky. If we don’t want to get caught, we should wait until the cover of dusk is on our side. I also don’t think we should risk taking the bus at all, and it’s a few hours walk to Borg Tower. We’ll leave here late afternoon.”

Zane and Jay exchanged glances, nodding. “Do you want us to do anything, Cole?”

“I dunno. Grab something to eat, get some rest if you can. I have no idea how long this is going to take. Pack up the bare essentials, just in case we’re not able to come back.

“Come this afternoon, be ready. We’re going to get our family back.”

---

Cole stared up at the looming skyscraper in front of him, his heart pounding in his chest.

This was it. They were here.

“Keep walking, Cole,” Zane whispered from behind him. “We don’t want to draw attention to ourselves.”

Cole picked up the pace, falling into step behind Jay, and melting into the crowd of passersby around them.

“What do we do now?” Jay whispered back to him.

“Just keep an eye out for-” Cole stopped, his gaze drifting towards the front doors of Borg Tower.

“What is it?”

“Over there,” he hissed, nodding sideways in the direction. Two people, emerging from the doors of Borg Tower, whom Cole didn’t recognize, but noticed the familiar outfits of the caretakers, had slung garbage bags over their shoulders, and were heading towards the back to toss them out.

“It might not be much, but it’s as good a place as any to start,” he whispered. “Let’s go!”

Subtly slipping past the citizens, he darted around the side of Borg Tower, Zane and Jay on his heels.

He froze in place as the muffled voices of the caretakers came into view. They were close. But not close enough. He needed to get closer if he wanted to be able to listen in.

If only Kai were here. Where was the guy with superhearing when you needed him?

If only they were all here. Cole just wanted them to be safe. He didn’t know what he would do if they found them and one or more of them were already gone.

But now wasn’t the time to think about that. Now, he had a job to do.

“Transform,” he whispered to the others. “You’ll be smaller, and easier to hide that way.”

With a flash, the three boys were gone, and a badger, a labrador, and a falcon stood in their place.

Crouching low to the ground, Cole edged around the corner.

The caretakers were hauling the trash bags into a dumpster a little ways down. Jay dropped down onto his belly and wriggled under the dumpster in front of them, Cole and Zane squeezing under after him, with considerable more difficulty.

“-giving us a lot of trouble,” the voices filtered in as they got within earshot. “I can’t wait until this whole thing is over and done with.”

“Have they gotten any closer with the drug yet?” the male voice asked.

“Somewhat, I think.” A second voice, the female. “They’re gathering a lot of blood from the kid, which seems to be helping, but it still could take up to a week.”

“What about the older ones? What’s he going to do with them?”

“Borg wants to keep them alive, for now, to see if they can give him any clues to where the rest of them are. I’m not so sure, though- they’re both very stubborn. I think they’d rather die than give up any information. Especially the lion one- he doesn’t seem like he’s gonna last much longer. We can hardly get him to eat anything.”

Cole clenched his teeth, biting back the shuddering breath. So they had been right. Borg did have their friends.

And, from the sounds of it, they were running out of time to save them.

“Do you have the key?” The female snapped. “We can’t have anyone breaking in here.”

“Here.” There was a jangle of metal as the padlock was locked, and then footsteps came sharply towards them. Cole shrunk back, watching their feet cautiously as they passed.

“Why would they need to lock a dumpster?” Jay whispered.

Zane’s eyes glinted. “The only logical solution is that there’s something in there they don’t want anyone to see. They must be hiding evidence. We need to see what’s in those garbage bags.”

“Zane, wait-” Cole hissed, but the falcon was already slipping out from under the dumpster where they were hiding, and over to the one the caretakers had put the bags in.

Jay let out a whine, and Cole crept forward, so he could peer out at Zane. The falcon was perched on top of the dumpster, sticking a talon into the lock as he jiggled it. The clanking of metal echoed threateningly through the air.

“Zane, stop,” he begged. “We can’t let them catch us, we have to wait until we know for sure they’re-”

“What the- I knew I heard something back here!”

Cole cringed back, and Jay yelped beside him as the man’s feet came into view. Cole quickly shushed him. The man had only seen Zane. Revealing themselves as well would only make it easier for him to connect the dots about who they were.

“Shoo, pest, shoo!” The man cried, running towards Zane but still keeping a respectable distance from the large bird of prey. Zane squawked, and Cole heard a flutter of feathers that he hoped was Zane flying away.

“What’s going on, Jake-” the woman called, her footsteps hurrying over and halting abruptly. “Holy shit! Is that a falcon?”

Cole cringed. It didn’t take a genius to know that falcons weren’t native to Ninjago City.

“It’s him!” she cried. “The falcon. It has to be! Quick, catch him!”

Cole shuffled forward as the two scuffled after Zane, who was shrieking and squawking as he flapped just above their heads.

C’mon, Zane, get them out of here-

The woman jumped up, catching his wing in her grasp, and yanked, sending a handful of tawny feathers flying. Zane screeched in pain, falling to the ground.

Jay yelped behind him, and before Cole could stop himself, he shot out from under the dumpster, and latched his jaws around the woman’s shoe.

She screamed, attempting to shake him off. “The other one’s here too! It’s got me, it’s got me, get it off!” She kicked, hard, and Cole went tumbling off her foot, right in front of the man, who raised his foot to deliver a kick-

The man stumbled backwards as something jerked at his leg. A yellow lab was sinking his teeth into his pant leg, holding him back. Releasing it, he barked loudly, running circles around the man as he tried to land a hit on the small dog. But Jay was too fast.

On his other side, Zane was struggling to his feet, oblivious of the woman running up behind him. Dashing past the falcon, there was a flash, and suddenly Cole was five feet taller, and punching the woman in the face with very human knuckles. She crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

The man cried out as he tripped over Jay, and before he could blink, the dog was gone, and Jay was pinning him to the ground with a foot.

The man’s face dissolved into panic as Cole approached him. “Please, don’t hurt me, I won’t tell them about you, I promise.”

Cole paused, narrowing his eyes at him.

“Don’t do it, Cole,” Zane urged, now no longer a bird, and sitting on the floor. “He’s lying. He’ll run right back to them and we’ll be captured before the day is up.”

“I swear, I won’t!” the man begged. “I needed this job! I was told it was such a great opportunity, I had no idea what I was getting into! I don’t want to hurt you!”

“Rich that you’re having a change of heart now,” Jay snorted. “You didn’t seem too concerned about us a minute ago.”

“Please, let me go, if they find me here and figure out I let you escape, they’ll kill me! I have a family!”

Cole glanced at the others. Jay looked uncertain. Zane looked angry. “I still say he’s bluffing.”

Cole glanced down at the man. The terror in his eyes was real, that was for sure. Relenting, he breathed out, taking a step back. “That may be so, but we’re not like them. Jay, let him go.”

Jay looked up at him. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

Slowly, Jay moved his foot, and the man bolted to his feet. Cole reached out, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt before he could slip away. Pulling him close, Cole gave him the hardest glare he could muster.

“If I let you go, you’re gonna run. Run as far away from here as you possibly can, and never come back. If you rat us out to anyone- anyone, Borg worker or otherwise- I will personally track you down and find you. And I’ve got the best tracker in the whole city on my side, so I won’t fail. Is that clear?”

The man nodded frantically, his eyes wide. His voice came out a squeak. “I swear on my life, I won’t tell a soul.”

“You better not.” And, with barely a beat of hesitation, Cole released him.

The man was gone in the blink of an eye.

“I hope I didn’t just blow it,” he breathed.

“I can’t tell you if that was the right decision or not,” Jay said, “but you were right about one thing. We’re not like them. If he tells anyone, he’s the scum, not you.”

“I know this sounds dumb, but I don’t think he will. I just had… a feeling.”

“Feelings and survival don’t mix,” Zane snapped.

Cole turned to him, where he still sat on the ground. “I’m sorry, buddy, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t do it.”

“I’m not blaming you, I just don’t trust him,” he muttered, pulling his leg closer to his body with a wince.

Debate forgotten, Cole started forward. “Are you okay? Did she hurt you?”

“Just pulled out a few feathers, nothing serious. But I think I landed badly on my ankle.”

Cole crouched down, tracing his fingers along his ankle. Zane flinched back, grimacing.

“Sorry. Does it hurt bad?”

“Yeah. I think it might be sprained.”

“Hey, guys?”

“Not now, Jay. Do you think we could-”

“Guys!” Jay cried. “This isn’t really something that can wait!” Cole glared back at him. “What?”

Jay held up a small, black device. Cole squinted at it, adjusting his glasses. “What’s so important about that?”

“It’s a pager, Cole. It fell out of the caretaker’s pocket. If she used it, there’s probably Borg employees on their way here right now!”

“Shit,” he muttered. “We gotta get out of here.”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to say!”

“Cole, I don’t think I can walk,” Zane admitted. “You two should go without me.”

“Are you out of your mind?” Cole fumed. “We’re family, we don’t leave each other behind!”

“I’ll only slow you down.”

Muffled shouts and harried footsteps came from somewhere nearby. Jay whipped towards them, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Hurry, guys, they’re coming!”

“Get on my back,” Cole demanded. “Now.”

“What?”

“You heard me. I’m going to carry you. Now, hurry!”

Jay helped Zane to his feet, and his friend slipped his hands around Cole’s neck, wrapping his legs around his waist. He had only just about gotten into place when Cole took off running, Jay on his heels.

The lab hybrid quickly overtook him, sniffing the air and leading them down a maze of alleys and backroads. He glanced back at them, his gaze nervously darting to something behind him. Cole didn’t even dare look back.

“Hurry, Cole! They’re getting closer!” “I’m running as fast as I can,” he huffed, although he forced himself to put on a burst of speed.

“Cole…”

“I swear, Zane, if you ask me to leave you behind one more time, I will punch you in the face.”

Zane fell quiet after that, but Cole could still feel his reluctance.

“Cole, watch out, they’ve got-” Jay’s warning was cut off with a yelp as a net came hurling through the air towards them, snagging Jay’s leg.

“-net launchers!” he finished.

“Jay!” “Don’t stop, don’t stop, I’ll be out in a second-”

Cole gritted his teeth, and kept running, even as he passed him.

“Jay, hurry!”

“I’m here, I’m here,” Jay called a moment later, already at his side again. “But they’re getting closer! This isn’t working!”

“Stop running!” A voice called from behind them, over a megaphone. “You will not evade capture. You are only making the consequences worse for yourself. Give up now, and you will be shown mercy!” “Sorry, but last time Borg showed us ‘mercy,’ we barely escaped with our lives,” Cole retorted.

“They’re right, though,” Jay murmured. “We’re never going to be able to outrun them! We need a new plan.”

“Well, we don’t have another plan.”

“I might have one. Keep running, stick to the left roads, that’ll take you out of town.”

Cole snatched his wrist before he could dart away. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“I’m gonna distract them. Lead them somewhere else so you guys can get away.”

“Will you two stop trying to sacrifice yourself,” Cole growled, “For five minutes?”

“I’m not sacrificing myself! I know these streets. I’m faster and more cunning than either of you. I can get away, if I’m on my own. I have no intention of getting caught, trust me.”

“It’s too risky. We’re not splitting up.”

“But-”

“Cole’s right, Jay. We already are down three members, and it’s going to be a whole lot harder to save them if there’s only two of us left.”

“I told you, I won’t get caught!”

“You can’t promise that,” Cole argued. “You’re staying with us, end of discussion.”

“Then what other plans you got, badger boy?”

Cole didn’t look at him.

“Over there!” Zane pointed. “Down that alley, about one hundred feet down, there’s a path hidden behind those vines.”

“What?” Jay snapped. “No there isn’t!”

“Are you forgetting who has falcon-vision here?” Zane retaliated.

“Just do it,” Cole hissed. “It’s not like we have a wide range of options, here!”

They darted down the alley Zane had pointed them down, and Cole scanned the wall for anything unusual. “Where is it?”

“Keep going,” Jay pressed, “We need to get through it before they round the corner or they’ll just follow us in!”

“Right there!” Zane pointed.

Following his finger, Cole caught sight of a patch of vines, the brick crumbling away behind it.

“Jackpot, Zane!” Cole cheered.

Jay scrambled through first, holding back the vines as Cole maneuvered through more carefully, trying to account for Zane. As soon as they were through, Jay yelped, “Go, go, go!” Cole’s lungs were killing him by this point, but he didn’t hesitate to race after him. He would be stupid to belive they were safe now. Already, he could hear the angry shouts of the Borg security officers behind them, and knew it wouldn’t be long before they found the broken wall.

But it had given them a moment. And, right now, they needed every moment they could get.

“What are… what are we going to do now?” Cole wheezed.

“We can’t keep this up,” Zane frowned, watching him with concern. “You can’t keep running forever. Not even Jay.”

“We need help,” Jay panted. “We can’t do this on our own.”

“Who’s going to help us?” Cole huffed. “We’re alone. Nobody has our backs in this.”

“I don’t know, maybe we can go ask someone. Those are houses over there, right? Maybe someone will agree to hide us.”

“They’ll probably think we’re escaped criminals, bozo. No one’s gonna agree to hide some random fugitive.”

“Well, what other choice do we have?”

“I… may have an idea,” Zane said quietly.

They looked at him expectantly, but he hesitated. “Well?” Jay yipped. “Are you going to tell us, or not?”

“You’re not going to like it… but there is somewhere we could go.”

Jay threw up his hands. “We don’t have time for this Zane, they’re gonna find us any minute! Just get to the point!”

“We could go… to the police.”

[slash-me-please]

Slasher's Hurting Their S/O Accidentally P1

Requester said "the boys" so i had to improvise and just kinda do most of em. Sorry that the scream duo doesn't reoccur in this and i hope you enjoy my headcannons 🔪💜

Part 2 will be out soon after

Warnings: Y/N getting stabbed, gender neutral reader, Y/N gets pushed down the stairs, Y/N gets knocked out,

Michael Myers:

You often wonder in he can feel any type of remorse at all, but you proved yourself wrong once. Only once.

Michael was very angry today, for a reason you yourself weren't aware of. You knew to stay out of his way but he was behaving much more recklessly.

You should've considered that when you woke at three am, turning over to cuddle into Michael when you realised the side of his bed was cold. Maybe you should've considered the fact that he could've been out slaughtering some horny teens. But somehow, the thought didn't cross your mind as you hauled yourself out of bed and down the hall to find your lover.

After finally spotting Michael standing stiff in the living room, you walked to him, that being your first mistake. Before you had the chance to touch the man he twisted around, plunging his knife into your shoulder.

At the screech you let out, he immediately realised his wrong-doing and picked you up, speedwalking out the front door and driving you to the hospital.

On the way there, his hand found the way to your thigh, occasionally giving it a squeeze while you drifted in and out of conscious

Brahms Heelshire:

We all know Brahms has anger issues. But you trusted him, you're supposed to trust your significant other right? They're your better half as some say. So they'd never hurt you right?

You put a little too much trust into him. Even after seeing him kill your ex with a shard of glass.

After today, you'd have to reevaluate that decision.

Brahms and you were fighting real bad. Way worse than any other time. So you were tired of hearing the voice he never showed you, the large and dominating roar he'd never use. His strength was not used to protect you today, instead, he'd decided to shatter multiple plates and expensive items around the house.

When you were done with it, you ran off, his loud yelling white noise as you tried to suck in tears.

You ran up the stairs in a desperate attempt to lock yourself in your bedroom and not come out until Brahms was offering you sandwiches.

Unfortunately you were not that lucky, somehow Brahms had made it there before you. He used his size to dwarf you and dominate you in the only way he knew how.

You tried to push past him, in which he responded by grabbing your arm and launching you backwards, eyes widening as he realised what he'd done. Before he could fix his mistake you had tumbled down the stairs. Eyes wide and tears flowing as you gripped your newly broken ankle.

Brahms ran down the stairs, crouching beside you. "I'm so sorry Y/N! Please don't be mad!"

Only had he realised the weight of his mistake when your eyes filled with fear and you flinched away as he tried to touch your shoulder.

Jason Voorhees:

Another victim had managed to overpower Jason once again, now he floated wrapped in chains at the bottom of crystal lake.

Unbeknownst to him, you tried to come to his rescue with a bolt cutter.

You caught Jason off-guard when you swam above him, startling your lover and making him swing his machete up at you.

The large weapon got caught in your arm, and you screamed, him recognizing his mistake immediately. You dropped the bolt cutters and desperately tried to stay afloat the water.

Jason panicked, grabbing the tool and attempting to rip the chains off before you drowned.

Finally, he shook them off and pulled you to his chest, walking out of the lake with you struggling against him to where he laid you on the damp dirt, watching as you regurgitated the water inhaled.

After regaining your senses, your turned to Jason. Frowning when he avoided your gaze.

Thomas Hewitt:

This accident was probably your fault or someone elses. Thomas loves you. He's careful around you. His worst fear is possibly hurting the one person who treated him like a human.

That being said, it was a very hot day. You ran around outside while Thomas lugged various heavy objects around for Charlie.

Finally Luda Mae encouraged you to take a breather. As odd as it sounds. And she told you to keep your boyfriend happy.

For the remainder of the day you lead Thomas around, telling him random facts you had learned whilst staying here. This worked wonders for the whole day until about 10pm. Charlie stomped out of the house, hollering about something.

He called your name, causing you to pause and turn your head. Thomas apparently not expecting you to stop and running into you, causing you to fall to the ground and him to drop his large bundle of firewood onto your head.

You were knocked out on the ground, unable to hear Tommy's roar as he fell to his knees, pulling you up into his arms.

"What're you yellin' about boy??"

Charlie fell silent upon the sight of you, calling out Luda Mae as Thomas frantically tried to look for a sign you were alive, extreme guilt plaguing his senses.

Freddy Krueger:

Everyday Freddy pulled you into an endless dreamland, messing with you until you couldn't stand being around him anymore.

You were determined to get this fried man back, so the next time you were pulled into a nightmare, you'd strike.

He'd been chasing you for quite awhile. And after you were tired beyond belief. Finally you decided to stop, turning around quickly and fling your hands forward and yelling "Boo!"

By instinct, Freddy thrusted his hand forwards and his claws stabbed your soft skin, puncturing your stomach.

He realised his doings quickly, watching as your grabbed the stab wounds and cried out, falling to the floor.

"Freddy!" You cried, your unoccupied hand grabbing onto his sweater sleeve when he crouched to meet you, his hands engulfing your body.

Freddy's part is kinda short but i struggled with his for a day.

[freefallingup13]

Big Bad Wolf (Jaren’s Puppy)

Do I have several WIPs for this fic? Yes! Is this one of those WIPs being finished? No!

Taglist: @emreads , @starnight-whump

Summary: Jaren, the leader of a wild, warmongering vampire coven, likes to keep a few werewolves as attack dogs. Some of the werewolves the coven keeps - like his favorite “Puppy” Toni - are his personal pets.

CW: This is a pet whump/slavery fic, if I continue to post more of this story there will be dubcon. This piece in particular has blood, animal attack (werewolf/canid), deep wounds, accidental mild self-injury, hint at lung puncture, Noncon drugging, dehumanization (werewolf is treated as an animal), chains/shackles/manacles, multiple assailants vs. one person, and, as a specific trope just in case, serious injury being treated as something that can be “walked off” or “handled”.

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

“Found him in a territory we overtook. Tried to get past the patrols, but he tripped a trap. We thought you’d like him, Sire.”

Toni stared down at the beast standing between the four vampires, held down by chains around his wrists and neck. It was the biggest werewolf she’d ever seen - she could see his chest heaving as he hunched over from the weight of the metal shackles. Steam escaped his nose through the caged muzzle he wore. Was it breathing hard from exertion, or was it breathing normally because of size? She honestly didn’t know. 

If he were able to stand up properly, she figured he would be eight, maybe nine feet tall. Every inch of his fur was jet black, and those eyes… those vibrant brown eyes, they were on her. 

He kept staring at her. Whimpering, Toni curled up by her Master’s side, pressing into the side of his leg as he sat on his throne. 

Jaren, on the other hand, was far more intrigued than worried. He didn’t notice the wolf’s eyes on Toni; he was busy looking over its arms, its hulking form. The creature was well-muscled, tall. The fact that the wolf had only been caught by a trap, tried to avoid detection from a vampire patrol… This wolf was either incredibly bold, or incredibly stupid. Both could work out in Jaren’s favor, but he preferred to think the former of the thing, considering the amount of scars the creature had lining its fur.

“No trace of any pack?” he called down.

The vampires shook their heads. “Alone, Sire,” they called back. “No scent of any other wolves on him. He’s been travelling a while, by the stench.”

The wolf turned its head instinctively to snap at the talking vampire. The other three laughed as it remembered the muzzle it had on, leaning down to try and claw it off with its hand. 

“... Hm,” Jaren tilted his head, bringing a hand up to his chin. “... Seems nothing more than a dog, doesn’t it? It doesn’t seem to have any more sense than a dog…”

Its eyes flared up towards him, and a growl ripped from its throat. He only watched as it began to slip both hands under the straps of the muzzle, ignoring the surrounding laughter.

Toni gripped tightly onto her Master’s leg as she saw the werewolf moving, heard the strain on the leather. “M…. Master?....”

“Shhh, Puppy,” Jaren whispered, lazily bringing a hand to her head to pet her softly. “Don’t you worry about a thing…”

The vampires at the foot of the steps kept talking, joking and explaining to Jaren how they’d caught him. They ignored the clawing, the growling, they were used to it. They put far too much confidence into the stupid muzzle. Whether they paid for it wasn’t Jaren’s problem.

Toni winced as she heard the wolf slip his claws underneath the leather, scraping a wound into his face as he did. She could see the blood from her perch, but the wolf didn’t seem to mind. The pain only spurred him on, slashing at the straps, pulling at the metal-

CRACK.

The four vampires stopped laughing as they saw the muzzle fall to the ground, the cage mangled and the straps torn in half. They didn’t take the time to react before he snapped again at the first vampire, this time digging his teeth into their shoulder like daggers.

A shriek escaped Toni as she tried to hide behind her Master, pulling her knees to her chest and pressing her face to his knee. She had seen the blood flying, she was hearing the screams - she couldn’t take any more.

Jaren watched carefully, leaning forward and putting his elbows onto his knees. His fingers laced together, studying the wolf’s movements and attacks. It ripped into the vampire like a stuffed doll, raking its claws down his back. As the other three tried to pull on the chains, pull the wolf back down to the ground, it turned to snap at them as well. It caught one of their arms in its jaws, swinging its shackled hands around to claw into the others. The manacles didn’t seem to weigh it down too much, and it looked like it was using the weight to its advantage. 

Good. 

Leaning back, he waved his free hand lazily. “Somebody go get Cora,” he drawled as he pet his Puppy to calm her down. “And get the sedative.”

The wolf was preoccupied, defending and attacking on three sides. The first vampire was down completely, rolling on the ground as his wounds tried to heal. He had cut far too deep for them to heal quickly. The other three were more important, two of them having all limbs free and the other kicking at his chest. He needed to-

Something landed on his back, and he felt a pinch on his neck. Furious that he’d allowed anyone to sneak up on him, he reached over his shoulder to grab the annoyance, flinging it off of his back. The sound of tearing fabric and a new voice crying out flew over his head. He heard a satisfying thud in the dirt at the edge of the clearing, then continued his assault on the other vampires. 

He felt it before he realized it; the sluggishness of his movements, the way the shackles felt heavier and heavier. The vampires were beginning to step back now, and he released the arm of the one he had. Better that they were away from him. Growling fiercely, he snapped at them as they backed up, hands in the air. 

Toni, having heard another scream, peeked out from behind Jaren’s leg. Her face fell as she saw Cora struggle to her feet, hissing in pain as she put a hand to the wounds on her back. It looked like the werewolf had dug his claws into her like a knife through butter, carelessly wounding her. Judging from the blood she could see on the ground, the smell beginning to invade her senses, the wolf didn’t care about the damage he did. 

She closed her eyes again. “Master… C-Cora-”

“I can see, Puppy,” Jaren sighed, propping his head onto his hand. He raised his voice to call down the steps, looking almost bored. “You’d better not be faltering, Cora. Handle it.”

Cora growled as she looked up at Jaren, baring her fangs. “Shut up, asshole!” she called back, rolling her shoulder as the wounds began to heal. She wouldn’t be able to use her left hand, she had felt those claws scrape bone, it was a little hard to breathe, maybe he hurt her internally. That’s fine, she thought as she looked at the wolf, who was finally beginning to be left alone. I don’t need to breathe, anyways.

With a little difficulty, Cora was able to stagger closer to the wolf, reach a hand out to the collar chained around his neck. He still had enough energy to growl at her as she approached, even enough to grab her arm and bare his teeth. Impressive, for the dosage he’d been given.

“Stop it,” she coughed out. She pressed her lips together as she felt blood in her mouth, electing to ignore it for now. Staring the wolf in the eyes, she kept her gaze just as steady and harsh as his. “What’s your name?”

The wolf narrowed his eyes, letting out another warning growl and beginning to lift its free hand. He could stab her through again if he wanted to, and he knew it.

“That’s enough,” she said sternly, leaning closer. “You’ve made your point. You proved your strength. Now stop being defiant, or you’ll get killed.”

She saw his eyebrows furrow. His ear flicked as he glanced towards Jaren on his throne, then back at Cora.

“Yes,” she admitted to him quietly, nodding slightly so Jaren wouldn’t see it. “He’s in charge. He’s impressed. He won’t be if you keep going.”

The two of them stared at each other, nobody daring to say a word. The others couldn’t tell if there was some sort of silent conversation, understanding being exchanged, or dominance being challenged. Even though the wolf was aggressive as a hellhound, Cora held firm, continuing to stare him down.

After a while, the wolf lifted her arm up in the air, letting it go slowly. He brought his hand back to the ground, standing up on all four feet to glare at Jaren.

A smug smile broke out on Jaren’s face as he leaned back in his chair. “Good dog,” he called down. His hand drifted over to card through Toni’s hair, and he smiled as she nudged her head to his palm. “Cora, put him with the other strongest. I’ll keep him.”

She let out a heavy sigh before she pulled herself to stand up as straight as she could. Her wounds were beginning to heal, so it was easier to talk, but it would be a few minutes at least for her to be able to heal her back completely. “Yes, Sire,” she replied, putting a hand onto the wolf’s shoulder. He growled out of instinct, but fell silent. She pushed at him, directing him to the other side of the clearing. “This way.”

One of the vampires drew closer, grabbing the chain of the collar that they had used to bring him to the clearing. They began to tug, but the wolf barked at them, grabbing the chain in his teeth and beginning to growl.

“Drop that, you idiot!” Cora hissed, smacking at the vampire’s hand. “He doesn’t need to be dragged, he can walk.”

The vampire raised an eyebrow at her. “Didn’t you just give him a seda-”

“And I tell you, he. Can. Walk,” she repeated, leaning on the wolf as she did so. “Out of the way. I need to make accommodations.”

Obediently, yet rolling their eyes, the vampires moved away from the werewolf, going to help their injured friend. As Cora tapped his shoulder, the wolf began to walk, allowing her to support herself on his side.

Once they were out of sight, Cora glanced over her shoulder. “You never told me your name,” she pointed out as she turned back around. “My name is Cora. I’m the head doctor. What’s yours?”

The wolf padded on silently, his head held high as he observed the camp. She thought he wouldn’t answer - most didn’t - but he glanced down at her with one warm brown eye.

“David,” the wolf said in the deep, growling voice of his wolf form. “My name is David.”

[one-boring-person]

Ok ok last one.

Poncho x medic reader who helps the team along but ends up getting herself hurt instead of him. And he realizes just how much she means to him

I hope you like this!😊💛

You Saved My Ass.

Poncho x reader

Warnings: death, injury, blood, swearing, spoilers

Masterlist

Poncho hates this more than anything he's ever had to do, this waiting with bated breath in amongst the shrubbery, the perpetually terrified air hanging around the usually fearless group souring his resolve. It is unnatural to him, to them all, the now decreased team unused to feeling entirely helpless, though they all know there is no way of changing this to their advantage at all, the situation being completely unforeseeable, even with hindsight. Cowering in the bushes just isn't their thing, it never has been, and, if they get through this, it never will be again. But he knows now that it is necessary; after all, he doesn't want to end up like Blain or Hawkins. At the reminder, he subtly crosses himself again, still torn over the sights of Blain's mangled body, and the remaining pile of gore from Hawkins.

Beside him, (Y/n) adjusts herself, clutching at her bag of supplies, the medic unarmed for ease of movement, though Poncho feels even worse about this than he does about hiding in the trees, fearing for his life. She has good aim, and she can defend herself, so without the weapon she is vulnerable, an asset he'd rather not lose, not now, not ever. The boys all teased him for having a soft spot for her, but he'd always shaken them off, chalking it up to the fact that his and her personalities seemed to match particularly well. Unfortunately, even after telling himself this for hours on end, he'd found himself clenching his jaw as he watched her patch Blain's arm up, back at the guerrilla settlement, somehow becoming irritable as he eyed her careful movements and teasing conversation with the muscular man. Of course, she'd given the others a once-over, including him, but something about that particular interaction had put him on edge. He knew Dutch had noticed, but the major had been too irritated himself to say anything, though this was more aimed at Dillon rather than (Y/n).

"What's he doing?!" The medic suddenly hisses, keeping her voice low as she stares out at the clearing where the trap has been set up.

"Huh?" Poncho blurts out quickly, before realising what she means.

Dutch has stepped out of cover and into full view, heavy gun held firmly in hand, muscles bulging as he tenses them, clearly nervous despite his bold move. The rest of the group fall silent, eyes wide as they watch their leader walk into sight, the trap ready to spring beneath his feet. The jungle is quiet, unnaturally so, every animal within the near radius having fled from this sophisticated hunter, just as the group are trying to do. Every sound Dutch makes feels amplified: the crack of branches underfoot, the rustle of leaves with each step, any normally insignificant noise seemingly deafening in the tense atmosphere. 

His foot catches on a trip wire, the major pausing to make sure it doesn't spring the trap on him, carefully moving his boot off of the tense cord. Taking another step, the muscular man moves further into the clearing, before all hell breaks loose.

There is a blur of movement behind Dutch, the forest seemingly coming alive as a distorted shimmer lunges at him, clicking filling the air as whatever it is tries to take out its next prey. Thankfully, it trips the wire, the net underneath it springing up towards the canopy, closing in on itself around whatever it had caught, an outraged cry of some sorts emitting from the invisible quarry as it writhes in its temporary hold. Leaves cascade down into the clearing as the group rushes to the aid of their leader, guns raised, ready to fire.

A familiar streak of blinding blue light dashes any hope of catching it whilst it's compromised, the energy shearing through the netting around its occupant, falling away completely. Another blast severs the cord holding the counterweight in place, the heavy log swinging down into the clearing, scattering the gathered group as they move to avoid it. Poncho, however, is too late to realize the danger of the situation, and is caught with his back turned, the weight picking up speed as it nears him. 

All of a sudden, he hears a cry of his name and he is shoved to the side, his body tumbling to the floor even as another goes flying a few feet away from him, landing much heavier than he does. Confused, he ignores the shouting and gunfire that has broken out, scrambling to get over to the fallen body, recognising the figure lying, motionless, on the floor, his heart dropping in his chest. Eyes wide, he drops to the ground beside her and rolls her onto her back, taking in the limp movement of her body, as well as its sheer lack of muscular strength. (Y/n)'s chest is jerking uncontrollably, the medic struggling to breathe properly as her face contorts in agony, each breath rattling in her throat, uselessly. The log must've smashed into her torso, most likely breaking her ribs and bruising her sternum and collarbones, leaving her in unimaginable pain.

"Shit, (Y/n), this is my fault...I've got to get you out of here. God, I'm so sorry, stay with me! Please stay with me!" Poncho pleads with her, awkwardly reaching down to scoop her up, wincing as she groans out. Internally, he curses himself for letting this happen, his own stupidity having gotten her here.

Panic floods him as her arms hang limply at her sides, head lolling backwards, her conscience clearly fighting to stay awake.

"You've gotta stay awake, (Y/n). Keep fighting, it'll be ok soon. Come on, (Y/n), pull through for me!" He rambles to her, trying not to jostle her too much as he moves, only now realising that Dutch is yelling after Mac, who has raced off into the jungle.

Billy and Anna wait at the edge of the treeline, watching as Dillon goes to follow Mac, Dutch coming over to help Poncho, who gestures to his gun, meaning for the major to take it. Doing so, the two of them follow after Billy and Anna, heading into the sweltering jungle, aware of the fact that they will most likely never see their comrades again. Glancing down at the medic in his arms, Poncho tightens his grip, hoping to hell she'll make it; he doesn't know what he'll do without her, and it's only now dawned on him that she means a whole lot more to him than he once thought. 

*

He'd been wrong. Poncho knew that now. Waiting in the jungle for the predator to find them had been bad, it'd been stressful and he'd been terrified, but it couldn't compare to what he endured now. Sitting there, between the beds of the only two other survivors, slouched in his chair from exhaustion as he waited for them to wake up, he decided that this was worse. In the jungle, he'd stood a chance, however small it was, of ensuring the survival of his friends, but now? Now he had no way of making sure they'd pull through. No, that was in the hands of the bustling doctors and nurses going in and out of their private ward.

Somehow, Phillips had secured a room in the nearest hospital strictly for the survivors of this disastrous mission, sending all four of them there as soon as he had them back in safety. Both Anna and Poncho had healed quickly, and now spent their days waiting for the other two to wake up, both members of the group having entered some form of coma in the twenty four hours after their arrival, being drugged up to the eyes and all to hold off the pain and let them rest. Dutch had been in and out, his slurred ramblings unintelligible yet disturbingly sudden and vivid as he drifted in and out of conscience, but (Y/n) had remained still, as if in a death sleep, never stirring, barely even breathing. 

The log had done serious damage to her ribcage and spine, nearly leaving her paralyzed from the simple impact, multiple of her ribs now broken and close to puncturing her lungs. Deep purple bruising mottled the skin disappearing below the collar of her hospital robe, the colour angry and harsh against her natural skin tone, leaving Poncho wondering just how bad it was lower down. Just looking over her now, tired as he is, he knows that she is lucky she survived the blow: had she instantly moved to get up again, the cracked ribs would've driven straight into her lungs, killing her from the inside. 

Shaking his head, Poncho climbs to his feet and goes to stand beside her bed, observing her face carefully, mentally kicking himself for not realising sooner how much she actually means to him. How could he have ignored it? She'd always been there for him, dressing his wounds first whenever he got them, unless there were more serious ones on someone else, messing around with him to get him to lighten up, joking with him, being there for him when he needed her the most. In the jungle he'd asked himself what he'd do without her, and he still hasn't found an answer.

Just as he goes to sit down again, (Y/n) shifts, her head twitching a little. Shocked, he stays where he is and watches her again, waiting for another movement, anything to prove she's healing. 

He almost can't believe it when her eyelids flutter, her face wrinkling as she goes to open her eyes, blinking to fight off the onslaught of unnatural light blaring down at her. Inhaling sharply, Poncho holds his breath, watching as she clears her vision, taking in her surroundings, brief confusion flicking across her expression before everything comes back to her. Instantly, a look of grief and pain etch themselves into the lines of her face, but she is quick to notice Poncho lingering by her. Her jaw immediately starts working at forming words, but he swiftly puts a finger on her lips, smiling down at her in relief.

"You're awake! Oh my god, you're actually awake!" Is all he can say, elation filling him as he takes in the medic lying on the bed.

A timid half-smile works its way onto her face and she manages a nod, before she winces in pain, the movement sending twinges down her sore spine.

"Take it easy there, you took a heavy-ass log to the chest, it might take a while to heal up properly." He grins at her, lifting an eyebrow at her when she goes to nod again.

For a moment, the two stay in silence, staring at each other, relieved to see the other alive after their ordeal in the jungle, Poncho's hand eventually finding her's. Carefully, he joins them, intertwining their fingers as he squeezes it for reassurance, beaming when she manages to return the gesture, her fingers tightening around his own almost minutely. 

"I wish I could tell you exactly how happy I am that you're awake, (Y/n), I've never been so relieved in my life. If you hadn't  have woken up, I really don't know what I would've done." Poncho looks down as he says the rest, blushing slightly, "You mean the world to me, and I should've realised it sooner, hell, I'm kicking myself for not realising before you saved my ass, but now I know that I've come to care for you in a way that I haven't cared for anyone ever. I can't lose you."

Her eyes are wide as she looks up at him, her mouth opening as she goes to form words.

"Me...too…" She manages out, voice hoarse but recognisable, her following smile wide and happy.

Happiness floods him as he hears this, the man eager to respond, wishing he could pull her into a hug, but he is interrupted by the sound of a groan of pain from the man behind him, coherent words finally coming from the major's mouth.

Turning, Poncho gives (Y/n)'s hand one last squeeze before he goes over to the veteran, finding a pair of hard grey eyes staring at him from the bed, clearly confused, though the events of the mission are quickly coming back to him. Clenching his jaw, Poncho goes to check up on Dutch, feeling much happier now that he knows the two survivors are awake, though he is even more overjoyed to know (Y/n) shares his feelings.

Glancing back at her, he blushes as he catches her staring after him, a smile on her face.

[vampiresuns]

Part VII: The Keeper (Take Tonight)

3.4k words. Things get tense between Saoirse and Julianus. When the crew of another ship attacks Meredith’s crew, matters only get worse before they get better.

CW: Mentions of stabbing, blood, fight related injuries and brief mention of anxiety attacks/being unable to breathe.

The crew of The Jagged Ruby, Saoirse and Meredith belong to @apprenticealec. The song for this piece is Take Tonight, by Family Crest.

Want to read more of these series? You can find its masterpost here.

After crossing the Strait of Sirens it was obvious to everyone in the crew of The Jagged Ruby that a simmering tension between its Quartermaster and its travelling lawyer had begun to brew. It was latent at first, growing until it was impossible to ignore. There had been no fights between them, no misunderstandings either of them had mentioned. 

It was a natural consequence of events. In all relationships there was a point where however many parties involved in it had to talk about their fears, wants and needs for the future. In all relationships there was a point where one of those people involved did something which the others may support, yet stress over.

And in all relationships between an immortal and a mortal there had to be a point where the former realised the fragility of the life of the latter. Facing mortality in others was always different than facing it in those one loves.

To make matters just a little worse, neither Saoirse nor Jules were talking about these things to each other just yet. Saoirse had begun to realise if the Queen and Julianus were in danger, they would have no option but to choose the Queen. It was a situation which had happened before —having to choose between a friend and the Queen— but there had never been any second thoughts about it. The Queen and her safety always came first, because it was the only true stake Saoirse had.

Julianus was different. Julianus was a stake in Saoire’s calculations. Not because it could make them sway from protecting the Queen — nothing could. Instead it was the realisation that they could not protect both of them, at the same time. For someone like them, for whom ‘to love’ meant ‘to protect’, it made them wonder what it meant about them and their love if they failed to do just that. Saoirse had never been in a situation like this before, and its novelty did not bring the excitement of learning.

It just made them feel nervous. It wasn’t a feeling they were used to, nor one they felt comfortable having.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Living as a pirate meant that when it wasn’t your own life being threatened, it was you doing the threatening towards other people’s lives. Perhaps it wasn’t a job requirement, but it was to be expected. It is something which is bound to happen sooner or later when the Pirate Queen of the Salty Seas reserved herself the right to toll ships navigating her waters.

Most ships did not put up a fight, nor got frisky. Some of them, however, did. The last ship Saoirse had pulled over after Meredith giving out the order to do so was such a ship. 

Aside from Jules’ mind compartmentalising the event —locking everything in it’s own box to be opened later, perhaps never— it was going fine. Relatively. Striking a mermaid in the chest with a lightning bolt wasn’t that different from doing the same to a person, and arrow shots weren’t necessarily lethal. Yet, if they did kill their target it wasn’t like their target wasn’t already planning to kill or injure them, or worse, one of their friends.

One way or another, It all went to its box, except perhaps for the weight of how they felt for this crew, that they would threaten someone else’s life — something they never thought they’d do. Some things are that important, they supposed. 

Their swordsmanship had gotten better, so had their archery. They had also been on a steady regime of two hours of magic practice per day since they crossed the Strait of Sirens. three weeks ago. It wasn’t that much time, but it was what they had on them. Practice and dusting off their books on the subject, and the frantic beating of their hearts as they thought ‘I really can’t die here’. The irony wasn’t worth it.

They ran out of arrows. The last of them now rested in the neck of someone who had been approaching Meredith from the back while Saoirse was swinging their maul at the main mast. In another occasion they would’ve stopped to ogle, standing on the fighting top of the ship they were raiding granted them a privileged view. However, the fight was not over yet and they couldn’t stay on their perch and watch.

As their feet met the deck, they noticed someone coming at them with a dagger too late. On instinct they tried to move away, using their arm as a guard between their chest and their face, in hopes to repeal the attack. They did, barely, but their forearm stopped the dagger. 

Out of adrenaline, survival instincts, they didn’t notice the blade hit their skin. Having jumped back and to the side, whatever was happening in front of their face got blurred out. All they registered was something hit them, as they kneed who had attacked them in the gut, and hit them square on the throat with the hand they weren’t using to protect their face. 

They didn’t even notice when they grabbed their sword with their dominant arm — which was the one they had been stabbed on. They just felt a sting of discomfort but didn’t bother to check as they tried to take the dagger from whomever had attacked them as a souvenir. They frowned at the blood on it, but before they could properly register where it had come from, their eyes noticed Saoirse had something between a spear and a harpoon stabbed on their side.

Someone was moving towards them with another one on their hand. Before Jules could think about it, they dropped the dagger and felt electricity zap through their fingers, a steady bolt hitting its target, making Saoirse turn.

“Julie, move out!” They yelled, trying to close the distance between them, but with Meredith still in potential danger, unable to.

Julianus moved just in time to avoid a stab from the same person, yelling back at Saoirse to focus on Meredith, that they were fine. When they tried to charge their sword with a bolt, however, their arm gave in. It felt dead. They noticed the gash from the stab, more of a slash than a puncture, going alongside their ulna bone and moving across the exterior face of their forearm. It bled, and as their arm fell, they felt another punch on their left shoulder. This time they registered the knife stuck to it. So did Saoirse.

Moving to stand in front of Meredith to shield her from anything potentially harming, it wasn’t much more of a fight for anyone after that, as Saoirse’s presence threatened to swallow the raided ship whole.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

There was no way Jules would have regretted what they did in the Strait of Sirens. Ever. It came with lessons and realisations, extra training and a sure way to defend themself if needed. They still got stabbed. Twice. 

They haven’t been sleeping well. The night of the Strait they slept like a log, yet after that night sleep became fickle. It was impossible to tell whether a good night of sleep or a bad night would happen on any given day. They would wake up several times in the middle of the night, sleep fitfully, or dream. There were so many dreams.

Saoirse noticed. Not only the interrupted sleep but the incomplete explanations from Julianus. They looked, felt and acted like there was something else they wanted to say (and they did) but could not say it. Self-censorship and nerves holding whatever it was hostage and tied in a tight knot in Julianus’ throat. 

Fear and the realisation that their fears were not entirely rational, added to the anxiety Saoirse would find them stupid kicked old responses into motion. Saoirse was, after all, an incomprehensibly old entity, and Julianus was only human, 27 and counting. Jules felt like they were between a rock and a very, very hard place. Or like a riptide kept pulling them in, over and over again, no matter how hard they tried getting out. 

Watching someone try to hurt Saoirse made everything settle, even if they were well aware acting unnecessarily defensive towards their partner when they spoke, as well as jumping in between harm and Saoirse, was not a precisely strategic move. Saoirse had nothing to lose out of being physically harmed. However, Julianus knew those weren’t the only ways to harm someone. The image in itself was already shocking, and their brain —a master of overthinking and strikingly quick logical leaps— provided the rest. 

Metaphorically speaking, standing in front of the void as it winked back at them had never been a problem. Julianus knew what Saoirse was. Julianus knew what their job entailed. Perhaps that was the problem. If Saoirse was the Code’s and the Queen’s keeper, then who kept the keeper safe? Julianus would do anything to anticipate that safety. Both as the reluctant Pirate Queen’s legal advisor and as someone who loved Saoirse.

It was too much stress, and things seemed to be going fine. As fine as they could be. More important things were brewing for them to fester on this and bring it to light. Julianus kept quiet, pulling away whenever an opportunity to speak rose up, shutting off.

Saoirse let it go the first day or two. They knew Julianus needed their space to sort things out before talking. However, they weren’t talking, at all. Now, stabbed twice, all of Saoirse’s fears also seemed to have found confirmation. 

Theodore said Julianus was truly lucky that both stabs missed tendons. Especially the one in their right forearm. He said they were also lucky about where it had happened. Taking a stab to the shoulder was infinitely better than doing so to the side and risking a punctured lung. Saoirse knew Theodore was right, but that didn’t make them feel any better.

After Theo healed them and wrapped their wound in bandages, Saoirse had tried talking to J.C. but the result was abysmal. They wanted to know why they would do such a thing, to put themselves at risk for them when they could not get physically hurt. Julianus, tired and in pain, didn’t have an answer for Saoirse. When they nudged them, they barked back that they knew it was stupid. 

They were defensive and their temper was at its peak; Saoirse didn’t understand, nor their own state, nor Julianus’ actions and it made them angry. If Saoirse knew the what and the how, why couldn’t they grasp the ‘why’? Julianus felt miles away from them. An abyss away. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be.

These humans were supposed to be the waves eroding their cliffside and changing them forever. This human even more so. Yet, Saoirse felt like the ocean had retreated from the shore so deeply into itself, it threatened to never come back.

“Just help me understand why would you do something like that for someone who cannot get hurt. I know sometimes fear is a factor in humans, but I assure you nothing is going to happen to me. I’m not the one who could’ve been stabbed on some vital organ, because I don’t have vital organs.”

Julianus frowned at them, looking somewhere between anguished and overwhelmed. “So fear isn’t a factor for you, ever? You never weigh a situation wrong, you’re never wrong because of fear.”

Saoirse pressed their lips together on a thin line. “It’s not so simple.”

“Because of the Queen?”

“You know I can’t choose.”

“I’m not asking you to choose. Ever. I would never ask you to choose.”

Perhaps that was the problem. They had seen things like this from a distance in the past. One partner would ask for something the other could not give for whatever reason. They would break it off. It seemed easier, simpler. Less entangled than the woven net of thunder blue light and bonfire warmth that Julianus had woven for them. Not because they needed it, but because they wanted to. Saoirse wondered what it would be like to lose one of the islands that conformed Ethari — perhaps like losing a limb felt like to a human. The thought was preferable to the hypothetical scenario than losing the Queen or losing Julianus. Or worse. Both.

“If you’re doing these things I have no way to protect you.”

“I know and as an adult I am responsible for my own actions. Saoirse I’m not asking you to protect— wait a second. So, you get to protect me and be all frowny at me because you realised you can’t protect both me and the Queen, but it’s a silly human thing that I try to protect you.”

“I never said—”

“It was heavily implied, your Deity of Ethari in the Frozen Sea.”

“Jules.”

“Don’t throw your entire incomprehensible presence at me. You know well enough that it doesn’t intimidate you.”

Saoirse threw Julianus a dark look. “I’m not trying to intimidate you. You’re being notoriously stubborn and closed off, I don’t understand you, and it seems to me you don’t understand that this could’ve been worse. You haven’t been sleeping alright, you could’ve lost more blood, you could’ve been stabbed somewhere else—”

“Saoirse I lost a minimum amount of blood.”

“You were stabbed twice, Julie.”

“I’m well aware.”

“I just don’t get it— why would you do—”

“I don’t know, Saoirse! What if you saw someone walk with a harpoon towards me. All I saw was that thing sticking from your side and someone going at you from your back, and I just didn’t see, and I know it’s stupid, and I know I’m stupid because of it and I know I’m human and fallible, and I’m going to die anyway!”

“Julianus, nothing is going to happen to me.”

“That’s not the point, Saoirse!”

“If you and Meredith are in danger, I can’t protect you. If I can’t protect you then what happens, Julie?”

“I already told you I’m not asking you to—”

“How can I wait for you to wake up every day to call you Mo Grhá, and call you Mo Ghrá if I can’t protect you, Julianus. I have never called anyone but the Queen those words.”

Jules' words died in their throat. They stared at Saoirse who for the first time in all those months they had known them looked hurt, at lost, and incredibly lonesome. Lonesome in a way only that which is incredibly old can look. Lonesome in the way mountains were lonesome, or the desert and the sea were lonesome. 

They had never felt a stronger feeling of wrongness. Like the chime of a bell which only grows, repeating the word ‘wrong’ over and over and over again. Saoirse had been open, vulnerable and patient with them, and they had been nothing but snappy and difficult. Sarcastic and impossible, and wrong, wrong, wrong. 

Julianus couldn’t breathe. They were at fault, and they couldn’t breathe.

“Do you— do you need comfort or do you need to be alone?” They heard Saoirse asked. They could only reply with a gesture.

“The latter? Okay.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Saoirse stood on deck, watching the ocean waves rise and plummet. They felt Meredith standing at their side, frowning at the Sea. 

“I don’t wanna know, I don’t want to know that you told Sanlaurento about this, but I think I understand them. Don’t you dare tell them that, but I think I do. I know what it’s like to be at the other end of someone who’s willing to be a stupid shit to protect you, and I know you know this.”

Saoirse didn’t look at her, still watching the waves go high and low. 

“It doesn’t make sense.”

“Love doesn’t, Saoirse.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

The doorknob of Saoirse’s quarters turned, the door swung open, making them look up from their book. Jules stood by the door after they closed it, staring at Saoirse as they stared at them. Their eyes looked red and puffy, their waterline pink. They looked incredibly tired, and incredibly drained.

Saoirse wasn’t expecting them. At this point, they should’ve known better than being able to always anticipate Julianus. If they could, they wouldn’t mean so much to them. 

“I want to apologise, but I’m going to please ask you to let me explain myself. It’s not an excuse, I don’t want to excuse my behaviour because it’s not excusable. I was standoff-ish for no reason, and I was an asshole too. I shouldn’t have been sarcastic to you when you were worried about me. 

“You worry so much about me, you are so good to me, Saoirse, and the least I can do is apologise, explain myself and wish to be able to return even a portion of the goodness you make happen for me.”

They exhaled, softly, wriggling their fingers as they began to talk. They apologised, and when they explained themself, they told Saoirse everything. From where their reactions came from to their biggest fear: that someone would hurt Saoirse, and Saoirse would be alone and trapped again. Who takes care of them? Who protects them? 

Who will love them like they love, and what if Julianus wasn’t enough? 

“You know? That’s not entirely possible. At most, if a Queen proves unworthy and to have ill-intent, I will get to choose a new Queen in the next Quinquennial meeting. I’ve already had to do it twice — no one who matters.”

“See, you taught me the code, I know this in theory. It doesn’t mean it doesn’t make me afraid, because I just… feel so much Saoirse, and I thought you’d think it’s stupid.”

Saoirse gave them a sympathetic look. “I don’t think I would be worthy of you if I thought you were stupid. Nor if I thought you weren’t enough.”

“That doesn’t mean I can’t do stupid things, or that I feel things that aren’t true.”

“True, but that’s not the point.”

When they began this conversation, Julianus was still standing by the door. Now, Julianus was sitting on Saoirse’s lap as they held them, Jules’ face in the crook of Saoirse’s neck. Saoirse was lying back against the headboard and the wall as they combed their fingers through their hair. The gesture had come to Saoirse without asking. To love is to know, and to know Julianus was to love them. 

They pried themself away from Saoirse’s neck to look at them. 

“I don’t love you because you protect me. I love you because you are you, and I know you love me because no matter how much ‘me’ I get, you always seem to be fascinated by it. You don’t judge me or it you value and accept it. I try my best to do good to you because I already love you. I don’t do it as a way to justify my love to you, or hope you will love me back, and you do the same.”

Saoirse looked at them with something akin to wonder. Perhaps it was wonder, perhaps it was love and wonder intertwined. It made Jules want to look away, but they forced themselves not to. 

“And here I was thinking I thought I had human nature figured out.”

“Human nature is malleable matter, Saoirse. Limitation, transcendence and gregariousness are the only things attestable, and I’d argue they’re all the same thing. Human nature is a fallible concept.”

“You’ve never thought of going back to scholarly education for a philosophy degree?”

“I have, but I’m not entirely sure I want to leave this crew yet.”

Saoirse kissed their cheek. “How very lucky for me.”

“Me making you lucky, me being the other recipient of your love. You’re going to make me not fit through doors.”

“That’s not a problem for me. Means I have loved you well.”

“Then I will have to dedicate the rest of my life, or for as long as we have, to love you so well you never, ever forget, not even after I’m gone.”

Saoirse muttered something along the lines of ‘I could never forget you, mo ghrá’ against Julianus hair and the two of them remained silent for a long, long while. 

Eventually, J.C. asked if they were forgiven.

“You already were. Just promise you’ll be careful.” After a pause, Saoirse mimicked their question: “Am I?” 

“I don’t know why you’re asking that, but you are. Just try to remember you’re allowed to just love me.” 

Saoirse promised they will. 

[aloha-cowgirl]

The Color of Free Will

This was written for the SPN Stay-at-Home Challenge. @bend-me-shape-me @helianthus21 @pray4jensen   

Monday 1: Feather (Read it on AO3) 

[1915 words - Hurt/Comfort, Wingfic, First Kiss]

From the library, Dean heard the slam of the heavy bunker door. It was late in the evening and he hadn’t been expecting anyone, however, the groan and crashing stumble made him hurry from his chair.

When he crossed into the war room, he froze. At the top of the staircase, was a crumpled creature. Black feathers stood at odd angles as the creature’s wings curled around its body. Dean reached for the gun he kept tucked beneath the map table as he cautiously approached the stairs.

But when he reached the bottom step, he shoved the gun back into his waistband before running up the stairs two at a time.

“Cas!”

The angel’s wings shifted. Beneath them, Cas lay unconscious on the floor, battered and bruised. Dean wasn’t sure what to do; Sam had taken Jack on a simple salt and burn case in St. Louis for some field experience, so Dean was on his own.

He wasn’t sure how to approach the delicate black wings, so he was forced to wrap one arm under his back and the other beneath his knees in a bridal carry.

“Man, you’re heavy,” Dean grunted as he carefully took the steps one-by-one.

When he reached the bottom, he hauled Cas into a chair, wings drooping out to either side. It didn’t look very comfortable, Dean thought, but there were more important things to focus on right now. He bent over him, cupping his face with one hand and patting the opposite cheek with the other hand.

“C’mon, Cas... C’mon, dammit,” he pleaded under his breath, “wake up. Wake up.”

Cas groaned and Dean let go of a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. He kneeled on the floor so Cas wouldn’t have to lift his head.

“Jesus, Cas! Hey, wake up, buddy. What the hell happened to you?”

He could see Cas’s eyes struggling to open and mentally cheered when he finally saw impossibly blue eyes gazing down at him.

“Angels,” Cas croaked. “I—they—I don’t—”

“Hey, hey, it’s alright.” Dean shook his head consolingly. “We’ll figure it out later. We gotta get you put back together, though. Think you can make it to a bed?”

Cas nodded.

Dean pulled one of Cas’s arms around his neck and tucked his own arm around his back and beneath his wings.

“Does—does that hurt? I mean, is this okay?” Dean asked as he positioned himself to support Cas’s weight.

“It’s fine,” Cas answered weakly.

Dean’s room was the closest with a clean bed, so they traipsed through the library and down the hall. Cas leaned heavily on Dean’s side, but at least he was awake now. When he was safely perched on the edge of the bed, Dean took the opportunity to grab a med kit and a few towels.

He rolled his desk chair in front of Cas, bracketing his legs between his own knees as he laid the open kit on the bed. Cas stared somberly at the floor.

“So… I have a few questions, obviously,” Dean said, trying to lighten the mood as he dabbed at a cut over Cas’s eyebrow. “First off, where were you?”

Cas sighed. “I was in Heaven. I was trying to come back home, but there were three angels and...”

He trailed off, so Dean worked quietly, anger building as he butterfly-stitched the cut and let Cas work out the details in his head.

“They attacked you?” Dean finally asked, a sharp edge to his voice.

Cas shook his head and looked up from the floor, locking eyes with Dean. “I attacked them.”

Dean took a deep breath, letting his hands slide from Cas’s face to his neck, checking for injuries. Cas let his eyes close.

“Is that why you couldn’t, y’know,” he gestured at the bruised and bloody mess, “mojo yourself back together?”

“I suppose,” he answered, flexing his wings out behind himself. The glimmer of deep purples and greens as the black feathers moved caught Dean’s attention.

“And, uh… the wings?” he asked.

“The wings,” Cas sighed again.

He stretched them and the tips of the longest feathers brushed the wall behind him. This time, however, among the iridescent black feathers, Dean spotted dark red.

“You’re bleeding,” he said, automatically moving from the chair to the edge of the bed beside him. He reached for the wing but stopped halfway, realizing what he was about to do.

Dean reminded himself that these were wings. Not like the tie or the trench coat that Dean had come to know as an extension of Cas. No, these wings—these gorgeous wings—were an actual part of him.

“Can I…?”

The air in the room seemed to thicken. He’d figured that touching an angel’s wings, usually unseen and untouched in the ethereal plane for all of eternity, was probably a pretty intimate thing. From Cas’s reaction he thought he may have been right.

Cas nodded, a slightly anxious look on his face. “Um. Yes, you can—you can touch me.”

When his wings appeared in this plane of existence, they seemed to have burst through his clothing, leaving it shredded on his back. Dean helped him shrug off his ruined coat, using the knife he had tucked in his boot to cut the fabric until they could pull it off over each wing. They repeated the process with his jacket and shirt.

“You wear too many layers,” Dean groused, earning himself a quiet chuckle from Cas.

When the shredded clothes had been tossed aside and Cas was left bare-chested, wings spread out behind them, now unencumbered, Dean’s breath caught at the sight. 

He grabbed a pillow and tossed it toward the foot of the bed as Cas positioned himself, laying on his front, wrapping his arms around the pillow. Dean approached slowly, then carefully reached out. As soon as his fingertips touched the soft feathers, Cas flinched. Dean pulled back.

“Sorry,” he said quickly. “I won’t—”

Cas shook his head, looking up at Dean. “No, it’s—it’s okay. It’s just… no one has ever touched them before.” His cheeks flushed.

Dean nodded and reached out again. This time the flinch was much more subdued, followed by a slow exhale. Dean absently stroked the smooth feathers as he looked for injuries. Cas let his head fall forward onto his arms, eyes closed.

Dean traced the edge of the right wing. It was mesmerizing. When he finally came across the blood again, he carefully moved the undamaged feathers aside to assess the damage.

“Looks like a puncture,” Dean said.

Cas hummed in agreement. “Angel blade.”

“Attacking a bunch of angels on your own probably wasn’t your best move,” Dean grumbled as he tore open a package of alcohol wipes.

Cas turned around to face him, eyes bright under a furrowed brow. “You don’t understand.”

“Well, enlighten me, Cas,” Dean challenged, staring back. “Why would you—”

“They didn’t want me to come back,” Cas barked, cutting Dean off. “They think I’m interfering in God’s grand plan. They were trying to keep me in heaven. Keep me away from—from you.”

Dean was rendered mute.

“I think that’s why they fixed my wings,” Cas continued, his voice faltering as he turned back toward the pillow. “They fixed my wings in hopes I’d stay. But when I refused, something… happened. I can’t hide them. I can’t heal myself. I—I don’t know what to do now.”

He held his face in his hands, leaning on his elbows. His wings resumed their relaxed position so Dean could reach the inky black feathers again.

Dean stroked them gently, smoothing where they’d become ruffled.

“We’re gonna make it work,” Dean promised, carefully cleaning the wound that had thankfully stopped bleeding. He tossed the alcohol wipe aside and returned to combing his fingers soothingly through the feathers. Cas let his head fall forward again, breathing deeply.

“I, uh—I’m just glad you decided to come back.”

Cas’s wings lifted and fell as he blew out a deep breath.

Dean admired the way the feathers changed color as they moved in the light. “So, black wings, huh? I thought all you angels had those fluffy white wings with matching halos.”

“They weren’t always black,” Cas said reminiscently. “As a loyal soldier of God, they were white. They began to gray when I first defied orders. It was the first sign that I was ‘broken,’ as they called it. And, well, now—”

“They’re perfect,” interjected Dean.

Dean could feel the tension releasing as he ran his fingers through the feathers. Cas’s head dropped back down onto the pillow with a sinful groan. The corner of Dean’s mouth flickered up into a smirk as he lightly scratched at the wing beneath his fingers.

“That feel good?” he asked.

“Very much so,” Cas said into the pillow.

He repositioned himself, straddling over Cas’s hips, holding himself up on his knees. Like this, he could reach both wings at once and there was no one here to judge him anyway. Dean noticed some of the bruises on Cas’s back and shoulders were already beginning to improve in color. Whatever the angels had done that had zapped all Cas’s grace was wearing off, he thought.

He started at the center of Cas’s back, running his hands gently over the base of the wings. Cas arched into the touch and Dean felt a rush of adrenaline. He traced his fingers along the bony edges, sliding them down into the small, soft feathers underneath, careful to avoid his wounds.

Cas shivered beneath him. Dean would be lying if he said this whole scene hadn’t spiraled into something completely different than what he had told himself it was—that he was just soothing an injured friend. But the energy in the room had evolved. There was static in the air now. Cas had taken on Heaven and the angels to be here with him—to stay here, maybe permanently.

He let himself slowly slide lower on Cas’s back, now half sitting, half kneeling over him. He stretched his arms wide, leaning forward to reach as far as his fingers could. He was nearly laying on top of Cas now, close enough to feel the pull of his gravity. Cas tilted his head back. Dean responded by angling his own head forward to feel the warmth of Cas’s scalp against his forehead. They stayed that way for a minute before Dean spoke in a low tone.

“Cas… why? Why come back?”

His strength clearly returning, Cas turned, nearly dumping Dean right off his back. They were now sitting on the bed facing one another. Cas’s bruises had definitely healed more, though Dean’s attention was locked on the blue eyes boring into his own.

“Dean,” he said in a near-whisper, “you know why.”

Dean swallowed, his eyes burning with the potential magnitude of the moment.

“Is it worth it?” he asked, wringing his hands.

Cas reached forward, taking Dean’s hands in his own.

“Yes.”

Dean wasn’t sure who moved first, but they met somewhere in the space between them. Their bodies crashed into one another, lips against lips, arms wrapping around one another. There was a flicker of lights, and then they were lost in the darkness, enveloped in glossy black feathers, surrounded by the color of Castiel’s free will. In this world where Heaven and Hell were out to tear them apart, here in the void of Castiel’s wings, it was only them.

And it felt like home.

@rauko-is-a-free-elf @petrichoravellichor @crack--attack @katekarnage7 @ladygotsoul @all-or-nothing-baby @moderatelypanickedbiromantic @dammitsammy

[nerdesilindoestuff]

worth the risk (All Might x Reader)

So, I’ve started watching MHA last week and here we are. I wrote this ficlet to procrastinate while studying for my term finals because my man Toshinori deserves some more love. I had originally thought of a whole fic about him, however, given the load of work I have to do, I don’t think I’ll have the time to write that much (at the exception of some scenes). 

Here is some context: You are a 30-ish-year-old doctor, you started working at UA as a part time school doctor to continue your research about quirks. Your alter is creating force-field projections (kind of like Violet from the Incredibles). Toshinori and you got close and have kissed once but you don’t know about his weak form.

word count: +2,5k

The evening had been pretty ordinary. You had had your dinner and was now laying on your couch, reading the latest article about gene therapy while lazily taking notes. Your hair was up in a messy bun and had opted for some comfy clothing, wearing a way too large t-shirt that went down to your thighs and some worn-out shorts. You had your TV on with minimal sound as background noise to your night-time study.

However, your peaceful night was cut short when someone pounded forcefully on your door.

You frowned; you weren’t excepting anyone. You went to look through the peephole and was dismayed to see All Might, in his civilian clothes, his right hand clenched on his left side in visible pain, while his left hand was planted next to the door in support. You quickly undid the locks on the door to let the hero come in, but as soon as you opened the door, Toshinori start falling clearly losing consciousness. Instinctively, you created a force fielding around him, avoiding him crashing on the floor. You felt a sharp pain in your wrists as you struggled to keep him in levitation. It had been some time since you’d used your quirk at full force like this and the weight of the man didn’t help. You somehow managed to float his body to your couch and fell to your knees next to him.

“All Might? Can you hear me?” you asked breathlessly, trying to think rationally and not give in the panic that was slowly creeping in your chest.

Suddenly, he coughed, spitting blood on himself and your furnishers. It was the first time you saw the hero in such a state. His eyes were closed but you could sense him fighting to stay awake. His face was covered in sweat, which was never a good sign, but what preoccupied you was the smoke that was coming off him. Your eyes widened as his body morphed.

What’s going on? You thought, panic clawing more and more in your chest.  

Once the smoke dissipated, the frail stature of his true self replaced the muscular figure of All Might.  

“T-this wasn’t how I wanted you to find out,” he breathed out raggedly, “I’ll explain everything, but I need you to…”

The end of it was lost in a violent coughing fit, resulting in more blood on his clothes and probably on yours too. However, he managed to lift his shirt to reveal a scar that stretched on most of his abdomen. Your breathing hitched as you saw the central scar tissue, red, hot, and throbbing. Pushing aside your shock of his startling transformation, you started inspecting his body; it seemed that it had been infected somehow, even though the outer parts of the scar hinted that the wound was probably years old. After thinking about it for a moment, a cocktail of antibiotics with some painkillers seemed to be the best way out.

“I’ll be back in a second,” you said as you rushed to your bathroom cabinet.

You always had some extra medication at home, as well as some medical supplies, just in case. You grabbed a bunch of pills and an IV kit before almost running at your couch, where you hoped Toshinori was still conscious.

“Hey, you there?” you asked kneeling next to him.

He jerked his head in a stiff nod, his face contorted in pain. You prepared the IV solution, as you continued talking to him:

“Ok, I need you to stay awake for a moment, alright?”

Another nod. You felt his fingers curl around the crook of your elbow; he looked focused on calming his erratic breathing. You felt a pang of sadness at the sight of his struggle, wanting to comfort him and run your hand through his hair. But you had to finish this.  

“This should work, so hang in there. I don’t really know what’s going on, but we will talk about it later. Don’t worry about it,” you said, unsure if you were trying to reassure him or yourself.

You put the prepared IV bag on the side and quickly started assembling the line. When all was set, you looked towards the hero.

“Ok, here we go.”

You punctured a vein that wasn’t too superficial and successfully placed the catheter before opening the IV line. It took few minutes before the tension started slowly lifting off Toshinori’s face. You let out a sigh in relief. However, you were far from done yet. Going back to your bathroom, you grabbed your first aid kit. You still had to disinfect the wound. You went back to your living room where the laying man had seemed to calm down, his breathing now even and steady. He looked exhausted and was probably going to fall asleep at any second now. You sat on the floor next to him, intertwining your fingers with his and cupping half of his face with your other hand, running your thumb across his cheek.

“Hey, I’ve got you. You can rest, now,” You whispered.

As he drifted off to sleep, you sterilized your material and got to work. After minutes of meticulous disinfection, you closed the wound with a clean bandage. Letting out a sigh, you leaned back against your coffee table, feeling a wave of exhaustion take over your body. Even though, you had tried to avoid thinking about it while taking care of him, you had to face the reality of All Might’s frail and weakened form. Was it a result of an attack of a villain? A poison maybe? He said that he didn’t want to you to find it out like this. What did he mean by that? How long had he been in this condition? Was this why he was avoiding your so much these last few days? The more questions popped in your mind, the more this whole situation seemed incomprehensible.

You decided to drop it for tonight; you wouldn’t get any answers while Toshinori was asleep. Plus, your own fatigue was quickly catching up on your, as your eyelids got heavier by the second. In a last effort, you went to your bathroom to sloppily wrap some bandages on the own wrists which started bruising because of the previous strain. Then, you gathered some pillows and blankets from bedroom and brought them to your living room. You covered the sleeping hero with a light blanket and settle on the floor next to him. You checked one last time on the IV drip that you had awkwardly balanced on your floor lamp, before finally giving into your exhaustion.

___

The first thing Toshinori felt as he woke up was the uncomfortable tinge on his right arm. He opened his eyes and was met with an unfamiliar ceiling. Slowly, the memories of last night came crashing in: he was sleeping in your couch, the uncomfortable tinge was the IV you had scrambled to put together to save him. As on cue, he noticed the stable breathing of someone sleeping nearby. He turned his head to locate where the breathing was coming from and was surprised to see you curled up between the couch and a coffee table on the floor, with only a pillow and a blanket. Your bandaged hands made him suspect that you probably hurt yourself while trying to get him to lay down. The hero swore softly as he passed a hand on his face guiltily. He didn’t want to put this burden on you.

It came to him that you hadn’t really reacted to his true form yesterday. Well, mostly because you had other pressing issues at hand. He was tempted to leave now and not deal with the repercussions. But that’ll just exacerbate everything and if you didn’t already hate him by now, you with no doubt would then. So, he stayed still, his eyes closed, feeling the anxiety weighing on this chest.

At some point, he heard you stirring awake. You let out an unhappy groan as got up to your feet.

“Hey,” Toshinori said tentatively in a hoarse voice.

Your head turned sharply at the hero, still laying on your couch.

“Oh, I didn’t think you’d be awake already,” you stammered surprised, “how are you feeling?”  

“Better,” he began as he dragged himself to sit up, his legs still stretched across your couch, “all thanks to you. I owe you one.”

“Right.”

An awkward silence settled in. Hesitation flickered across your face; you looked like you were about to say something but ended up advising against it. Toshinori figured you’d probably bring the subject of his weakened form at your own pace. You pressed your lips into a thin line and drew near to sit next to him. Toshinori froze at the sudden proximity, as you began checking on the drip. When you were satisfied with everything, you got up.

“Are you hungry?” You inquired as you headed toward your kitchen which was opened to your living room.

The hero was about to say no but his stomach – what’s left of it anyway – growled loudly.

“Well yes, actually” he responded, scratching the back of his head in embarrassment.

Your lips quirked up in a faint smile. Toshinori observed as you were messing around your kitchen, almost mechanically turning on your coffee machine and gathering some ingredients from your fridge to cook what seemed to be an omelette. At some point, you brought him a glass of water and a filled plate, before sitting in front of him on the coffee table with your own food and coffee.

“Thanks,” he whispered, moving his legs off the couch to face you.

They started eating in silence for a moment, before you spoke up:

“So, are we going to keep ignoring the elephant in the room?”

Toshinori sighed as he put his barely touched plate on the table. He couldn’t eat more than a few bites anyway. He examined the woman for a second before answering; your tone was controlled, not letting through any accusation but still firm enough to let him know that you were probably pissed.

“Yeah, I figured you might want some answers.”

You let out a dry laugh. Yeah, you were definitely pissed. You didn’t say anything for a moment, most likely unsure of what to ask first.

“How did it happen?”

It made sense that that would be what you’d wanted to know.

“A fight against a villain. It happened years ago, and I had barely made it. They had to remove a part of my respiratory and digestive systems, which is why I look like this now,” he said bitterly pointing at himself before continuing, “I have to stick to a ton of medication, including recently to some immunosuppressants which was probably what kicked started this whole thing.”

You listened carefully; your face was awfully difficult to read.

“Were you going to tell me at some point?” You asked.

Toshinori felt a sharp pang of guilt at your betrayed tone.

“I-I don’t know,” he answered honestly, “I didn’t expect whatever we had to get to this point–”

“–I thought you trusted me.”

“I did and I-I do, I swear–”

“–is this why you have been ignoring me for days?” You interrupted again.

“I-I… It’s complicated. I didn’t think you’d feel the same way about me. And when you kissed me, I panicked. I just felt like I was catfishing you.”

“Catfishing?” You repeated incredulously rolling your eyes.

 “You know what I mean. That night you were with All Might. The hero, not… me.”

“That’s bullshit,” you said adamantly.

“It’s true, I’m not…,” he paused taking a long breath, “I’m not him anymore.”

“I can’t believe after all that talk about Midoriya, you would still say that.”

“What?” He asked confused.

“Your quirk doesn’t define you. That’s not what makes you a hero. Isn’t that what you said to me that night you walked me home?”

When he didn’t answer, you continued frustrated:

“I kissed you because… I don’t know. I like you, I guess… As a person.” You felt your cheeks burn but reminded yourself to stay composed; you were still mad after all. “I’d hope you didn’t have as low esteem of me that you would think I’d feel any different of you because of your quirk or your looks. At your core, you’re still All Might.”

Toshinori wanted to say something, anything. That he had feelings for your too, for once. That he was sorry for not telling you the truth sooner. That he trusted your and the only reason he hadn’t say anything was because he believed you deserved better. But he stayed silent, causing you to throw your hands up in a huff.

“Never mind,” you mumbled, standing up and bringing your plate to your sink. “I’m going to take a shower, I’ll come back to remove the IV line, then…,” you sighed before turning back, “you can do whatever you want.”

Then, you went into your bathroom, closing the door with a little more force than needed. Toshinori laid back into the couch and let out a hopeless sigh, pulling his hair back. This wasn’t the direction he thought this was going to take. Well, he hadn’t expected any of this actually. Those damned immunosuppressants.

The hero waited patiently for you to return, trying to figure out how he could turn this situation around. He hated seeing you upset because of him.

Finally, you came back, in fresh clothes and with some first aid materials. The anger and frustration from earlier seemed to have faded a bit, leaving a more tired and saddened version of you. Toshinori didn’t fail to notice that your eyes were red, probably from crying in the shower. He felt another pang of guilty striking yet again. He watched your work around his arm in silence and he rehearsed his apology.

When you had applied a last piece of tape on his bandage, you let go of his arm. They were close enough their legs were touching. You were about to stand up when his hands held you still. Your eyes went from his hands on your wrists to his face.

“I’m sorry.” He blurted out, keeping his head low. “I don’t want to hurt you, Y/N. I just… I don’t want to be a burden to you.”  

“Toshi…” You said as you shifted slightly to better face him.

He didn’t let your protest and continued, knowing he had to get it out:

“I should’ve been more honest with you. And the truth is that when you’re with me, you bring me a peace that I haven’t felt in years. Which is kind of ironic if you ask me,” he said with a short rueful laugh, “I’ve dedicated most of life trying to be the symbol of peace. But now that I can’t no longer be that person, you came in, telling me all the things I wanted to hear, showering me with care and gentleness. And the last thing I want is for you to feel rejected…”

A moment passed before he lifted his hand and gently brushed his fingers against your cheekbone. He caught between his fingers a lock of hair, placing it behind your ear in a swift movement cupping the left side of your face.

“…when in reality all I want is you.”

You breathed out shakily as you leaned into his touch, your eyes fluttering close. Your heart was beating so loud in your ears that you almost missed him whispering your name. After a second, he closed the few inches between them as you felt his lips pressing against yours. It only took a second before you kissed back, as he brought his hand up to the nape of your neck and weaving his fingers into your hair. They parted for an instant as they looked into each other’s eyes. Toshinori brought his hand down and spread it in the small of your back, bringing your closer as he kissed your again deeply. You wanted to close any distance between them; but he was still recovering you reminded yourself. That didn’t stop you from responding with the same intensity to his kiss, as you gripped his t-shirt front, kissing him slowly, taking the time to breathe him in.

Toshinori wasn’t sure where this was going to go but as he was holding your warm and soft body against him, he decided it was worth any risk.