#tw bone breaking

[helpfandom]

OOO can I suggest the "If I break your legs, then you can't leave me." prompt for Irving from the hex? If you know you know ;)

>:) I had an immediate smile on my face when I saw this. You, you get my vision.

@lonleydweller

Tw: Breaking bones, Violence, heavy dependency on you - the reader, Guns, Death of side-characters, bombs.

🥀19. "If I break your legs, then you can't leave me."

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It'd been months since your game got destroyed, leaving you without a purpose, and yet Irving had a proposition for you! Thankfully, he could use a designer to help him out, so now you didn't have to go to that weird inn or end up in the void of rejects.

So naturally, you had accepted, wanting to avoid the unfortunate fate of it. And so for a few months, around four or five, you slowly worked under Irving, trying to understand his gruff attitude and harsh nature.

I mean, sure he's insulting to a lot of people, but he's been okay when around you, he's not mean to you, if anything, he's kind to you, in his own way. I mean, he took off his glasses around you a couple weeks ago, that's progress, right?

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That was two months ago, god what you would give to go back to that time and tell yourself to run away when you could have. He was, hurt, corrupted somehow, he must have, because he developed feelings. And as much as you wish you could pretend that he was just an unfeeling bastard, the way he holds you, crying into your shoulder from guilt, holding onto as if you're the last thing he might be able to hold on for a long time, his whispers of "sorry. I'm so sorry." It's hard to hate him. It's hard to hate him when he makes you feel like everything depends on you.

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"I'll be going now. Don't hurt yourself." He says, like you could, and walks out the door of your his house, the one he had you design, a mockery of your work at this point to trap you in the same home you designed as a safe space before he took you into your safe space.

He closes the door, and walks away to his office, that much you can see from the partially made windows, you never did finish animating those, and now it's a waiting game again. You slowly crawl over the house again, trying to figure out what to do again. Eyes flit over to the bookcase, thankfully you put a pencil in here before you realized why he wanted you to design a home you'd be comfortable in. The books aren't readable, he didn't program that in, but if you glitch it, you could open it to a blank page to write in.

It's been a boring few hours, there's only so many times you can try glitching the book into reality to draw one before frustration takes over. Throwing it down onto the ground in anger, it almost perfectly syncs up with the sound of alarms rising in the background, only now hearing due to being blinded by anger.

Now's the chance, the alarms on the door won't sound off as loud due to the other alarms, run. Taking the opportunity, you run and open the door, slamming it into the wall from how rushed you are. Running to the other side, the opposite of where Irving works, the assumption was right, the sirens on the door means nothing to the sirens in the facility, this might be the chance.

The chance to escape. Run.

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"MIR DAMN IT!" He yells, practically screaming. "They tricked the player into this?" He slams his fist on the desk, knocking over a mug filled with sunglasses. He looks over at the chipped thing and sighs. You gave it to him, before he became this mess. He looks back at the screen. "What am I supposed to do?" He frowns, and looks back at the screen. "What do they see? What does the player see?" They obviously see something, because if they saw what they were really doing, they would stop.

He starts typing on the computer. It must be Lazarus that the player controls, he was the only one from Vicious Galaxy that was a different protagonist. He finds the level they're on and smiles. He could fix this in time. He has to fix this. For you.

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Even though everything hurts from being cramped up in the house with nowhere to go, no way to stretch, you keep moving, you have to. Breathing heavy, you slow down and lean on the wall. You got a few floors down from the house and that should've put enough space between you and Irving.

Groondas litter the floor, blood seeping out from gunshots on their carcasses. What's going on? What happened? Why are people killing the Groondas? Just keep moving. Escaping his suffocating grip is more important than finding out why the sirens are going off.

You keep moving, walking now to try and ease a bit of the pain flowing from your muscles and skip past the elevator, there's an exit on this floor that can take you lower if you remember correctly.

BOOM!

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Irving looks around for just a moment when a bomb goes off, before the realization that Lazarus and Jeremiah are gone, the floors broken up into pieces and ceilings cracking under pressure. Shit. How is he supposed to deal with all of this mess?

Wait...

Are you okay? You're on a higher floor, the bomb could've cracked the house and hurt you.

He starts walking, beginning to run with a purpose.

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You tripped, how stupid that one of the few floors who didn't get too much damage made you trip and break your ankle? What kind of cosmic event timing is it that right as you get close to the exit that could help save you, you fail to walk now?

Gritting your teeth and riding adrenaline to go past the pain, you're so close to the exit now. Your hand is on the handle and it swings open to reveal...

Stairs.

The company did change the floor plan after all. A longing sigh comes from you and you start walking down, using the railing to avoid putting pressure on that foot.

One of the doors swings open on a different floor and frantic footsteps start running up the stairs. A flash of blue from an upper floor tells you all you need to know that it's Irving.

"No. No no no no. They have to be okay. They have to be." It slowly dissipates as he goes upward, the opposite direction of you. Thank Mir.

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Door swung right open against the wall, a book on the floor and the alarms going off.

No. No no no . no no no no no no no you can't be gone, you must have been taken, he treated you kindly, there's no way you would have escaped, you need him like he needs you.

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Running down the stairs, pain be damned, it's the final floor that isn't decimated. There's a window that leads to Secrets of Legendaria mockup, if you make it there then you can make it down to where a lower floor is for re-creation and make it out of the headquarters.

Frantic running and then tackled down before you make it to the window. "NO!" You cry out, and arms wrap around you. "Oh thank Mir you're okay, did Lazarus hurt you? Did Jeremiah?" He growls from the back of his throat. "Oh I'll do much worse then Vicious Galaxy this time. It will be much worse."

He stands up, still hugging you with a firm grip and looks you up and down as best as he can, noting your foot. "Oh no, no. They did hurt you." His grip gets noticeably tighter on your arms without him thinking and he breaks his grip when he realizes he's hurting you. "I'm sorry, I just..." He shakes his head and picks you up by the shoulders, gently placing you down and wrapping your arm around his shoulders. "C'mon. I need to fix this and you need to be safe."

You chew on your lip for just a moment, but the window is so close, so tantalizingly close. This is the chance. You shake your head. "No. I want out." You shove him, not very well but it's enough of a surprise to him that he genuinely stops for enough of a moment to for you to run before he snaps from his daze and yanks you back, nails digging into your skin.

"What? No. No! I need you, and you need me." He shakes his head, his glasses are slightly broken and it allows for just a mere glimpse into his eyes, deranged and red, pupils wide.

"No!" He shakes his head and pushes down onto the ground. "No." Something snaps in him, and he gets a smile on his face, already eerie enough to see a smile break upon his face, but the mere fact that he's not crying out in anger anymore is enough to send shivers down your spine. "If I break your legs, then you can't leave me."

He pushes you down further, strength so apparent by the fact that not even your meek struggles even break his focus. His hand grips your kneecap and he fucking snaps it.

A gurgle erupts in your throat, bile rising and threatening to spill from your lips as the mere sound of it cracking and then breaking, bone sticking out of your skin.

You scream and he shushes you with his other hand, moving his next focus to your other leg. It's a blessing that you black out from pain before you can feel the other leg snap.

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The next time you come to, you're laying down in a bed, him sitting next to you. "I'm so sorry." He mutters to himself, head in his hands. "I shouldn't have. I need you. I'm so sorry." You grip the sheets in anger and he notes the movement. "Oh thank Mir, I thought you would never wake up." You glare at him and look down at your legs, mangled and twisted and where they are most certainly not supposed to be.

He follows your eyes and refuses to look at your legs. "I'm sorry, but you just haven't realized how much I need you, and how much you need me."

[lorelune]

‘god i love yanderes who break bones’ blade….

KAFKA….

anon so right so TRUE ... both of them. blade breaks bones by accident, he doesn't mean to. he doesn't always remember his own strength and what he's capable of. he's not used to handling fragile things.

kafka is strategic. she's cruel and sweet all the same time about. she'll tell you it's all for your own good and leave you with a broken wrist and no painkillers. she won't splint the injury for a few days to make sure you 'learned you lesson' about running off

[zu-is-here]

Fragile | Happy birthday to Horrortale ★

[1/16] horrortalecomic by sour-apple-studios

[bones-of-a-rabbit]

Abandonment Issues, Prologue (part 1)

Abandonment Issues comic, prologue: pages 1-5

I was going to finish th prologue and then post it all at once but it’s taking way longer than expected so uh. Shrug

(part 2: here!)

[grismavessel]

Inktober: Week 5

Happy Halloween!

"Agree to disagree, we both know who's right"

I thought about what other wacky stuff I could do with the vessel au.

What if Volo became a vessel for Giratina? What if he made himself a vessel on purpose and stole Giratina's power?

Originally the two were cooperating with one another but once Arceus tried to fix everything via a vessel/proxy, Giratina suedo abandoned Volo's plan a little (still mulling over the plot in my head) and left Volo without answers or assistance.

He would feel absolutely cheated. The most damning thing to refute all of his ideals and thoughts that the world was unfair and unjust.

He was abandon by Arceus and the one it outcast from the realms.

He is not the grand hero everyone loves.

He's had no just reason for all the wrong that has happened in his life.

He'd be furious. Insulted. He probably is plotting revenge of both god and vessel.

So if a pokemon won't listen, there are other ways to capture it. The red chain can steal back Giratina and bind it to him, making himself a vessel for a god instead of Gris.

But it doesn't work very well. Giratina's too big, too much for a mortal to house it without consequences. While Gris held off and fought off the possession, Volo foolishly takes on more than he could carry.

He's too blinded by rage, by the need to have victory over Arceus that he doesn't care if it's splitting him apart, or that he'll forever bind Giratina to his body due to the red chain's hold.

If Volo steals Giratina, he would become an imperfect vessel, a violitle bomb ready to lose his mind and tear the world apart.

(also I wanna add design notes so the tendrils are meant to be like tainted angel wings and I took artistic liberty to make the red chain more ribbony to add to the evil devilish flow going on.)

[oceanicpoetry]

Loki's arrival: official concept art (by Andy Park)

[threepandas]

Sun Burnt: Part 2

Sixteen grand, only half my go bags, and about three blocks of Mafia Land on fire.

That was my fucking legacy now. I was the crazy fuck that DICK PUNCHED the Dread God of hitmen everywhere. The nightmare that lesser men fear. The blood soaked luxury few can afford! Oh god. I just punch the greatest hitman on THE PLANET in the DICK.

IN PUBLIC.

CURSE YOU LIGHTNING BRAIN!

I can't believe I fucking FORGOT that panic and impossibly fast reaction times were a BAD IDEA. God DAMN it! No wonder everyone thinks Lightnings are morons! That was the DUMBEST SHIT I'VE EVER DONE IN MY LIFE! Oh god. Oh god! I'm gonna die so slow. He's gonna drag it out! What do I DO!?

He didn't even collapse! Just hissed in through his teeth and TANKED it!

Thank god for Tazer training.

But also like!? Ha ha!!! OH GOD IM SO DEAD. I just pissed off EVERYBODY, didn't I? I can never come back! I had to have hit like... fifteen DIFFERENT SETS back there! And Colonello will be out for my BLOOD. Fuck, I wanna LIVE!

Boats. I gotta steal one of the boats!

And thank god? I DO. The island is in chaos, thanks to the fires. I dump the boats number of trackers overboard. Sure, I have to take a knife to a few fancy ass walls. But it's WORTH it.

I got a fancy ass little yacht! Perfect. It's fast, it's liveable, I can DISAPPEAR out to sea. He'll NEVER fi-!

Click.

Cool metal smoothly, cruely, presses againt the back of my head to crush my hope, just as it begins to form. The cologne is unmistakable. I can not tell you, how in God's name I missed it. The barrel of a gun pressed close, like a lover's hand, in unspoken threat.

"Bella~" purrs an amused voice from behind me. It sound like a threat. "Quite the trouble maker, aren't you? Such... CHAOS~♡ But, really? Did you HONESTLY think you could run? We're not done yet."

.....m...maybe I could swim.

I break out into a cold sweat, too aware yet completely frozen. The stairs to the deck are too far away. Fuck. I... I could MAYBE make it? Or.. or punch out a wall? Right into the water? I try to keep my breathing even. It doesn't work. I know, because Death made a man? Who stands behind me? Hums in amusement. His gun pressing tighter against my skin.

"I wouldn't, bella fulminea. I am nothing if not a gentleman, but if you keep fighting me? Well... it is a long boat ride. I'll have to find SOME way to immobilize you long enough for us to have a little chat. And an excuse to have my Flames inside you? You'd be surprised the damage one can do without lasting effects, when they know HOW too."

"And make no mistake. I DO know how to hurt you."

"So let's behave ourselves, hmm? Have a seat."

I... I had a seat. Very comfy. Didn't feel like crying in the SLIGHTEST ha ha, WHAAAT? Don't be silly! This is FINE! We're all friends here! R..Right?

The slow grin I got was NOT reassuring.

He stood there, above me, gun casually pointed at my head, as he examined me. Taking his time. As though decadently savoring the moment. Enjoying my tensed muscles. The way my Flames crackled and arced across my skin. My eyes dilated in fear. The resonance that filled the cabin.

His eyes weren't dark anymore. And that... God, that was the worst part. They had lit up. I'd HEARD about the phenomenon, but never thought I ever actually SEE it. 'Cause who could actually be that batshit powerful? What realistic person would ever be so fucking STRONG?

It was like looking into molten gold. Liquid Sun Flames. I could almost SEE the flicker and burn. I could DEFINITELY feel the Flames filling the room. It was like being crammed in a box with a tiger that barely fit to begin with. Shoved RIGHT up against its face. All I could do was hope it was friendly. Preferably ignored me.

But he wasn't.

No, he wanted to TALK.

Had finally, thankfully, put the gun away. Stepped closer to grab my face and tilt it up. Angle it this way and that. Memorizing my features. Shit. My thoughts must have been obvious on my face, because his smirk widened. His grip got tighter.

"Do you know, little lightning, how long I've waited? How many DECADES I've made do? I don't care if you're not a Sky. You could be another sun as far as I'm concerned. It is the fact that your Flames SING to mine. Crave a place with mine. THAT is why you will never escape me."

I didn't even know if I WANTED a Set. Yeah, it sounded cool. The companionship, the understanding and stuff. Like... like soulmates. Literal platonic but could be not if you wanted Soulmates. Yours forever. Best friends and balm to all wounds. But? But! If THIS was what was in store for me?!

Ha ha, NOPE!

I may not have be interested in being some meat shield for some entitled, cloying, grabby-flamed Sky BRAT, but that didn't mean I wanted a living DREAD GOD! R... RIGHT?! I just wanted, you know, substance! Mutual understanding and a mature outlook on life. Competence. Maybe some one... who thinks... I'm...funny...

Ooooooh no.

Oh no no NO!

"REBORN! Did you KIDNAP a random thief?!"

Thuds up on the deck. A roaring voice sounding vaguely hysterical. A god like Cloud kicking the door to the lower levels clear off it's hinges. Vongola. Oh thank MERCIFUL FUCK. I risk a glance across the table. His face has frozen in it's pleasantly smiling mask. Pissed at being interrupted. Again.

His eyes say "don't you do it. Don't even DARE.

My eyes shoot from him to the Cloud slowly walking down the steps. Followed by the rest of the Tenth generation of the Vongola Familgia. The clear exit they've left open behind them. Back to him. His gaze now promising to break both my legs.

.....he'll have to fucking catch me first.

I BOLT.

[signanothername]

He will not hesitate to commit a crime

[buttercup-barf]

Okay, okay. I know what you're thinking, when you see this specimen.

"Butter, you silly goose, why such Weird tags when it's just a lil' froggy guy? Well. The truth lies under the cut, my friends.

It's tough trying to draw Goopino as freaky enough to be a bit jarring, goofy enough to be appealing, and also look like a twisted version of Peppino.

I also tried my hand at spook'ifying him, but. Uhhhh. I dunno.

[saigoat]

I love that one thing the torture/ Stockholm syndrome/ whump/ etc. community overlooks...is the substantial amount of tension and awkward silences. Like the real life aspects involved, no inner monologue, no creepy horror movie music scores, just long bouts of weird quiet. Maybe a stray gutteral noise or panting, but just staring and breathing.

[lady-harrowhark]

If anyone remembers/still cares about my bizarro jaw bone spur debacle from this summer, I have an update for you! I'm fine now, this is all past tense, but probably don't read this if you don't want to hear about dental/bone stuff.

So to recap, earlier this summer I felt some irritation in my mouth and when I checked it out in the mirror, there was a tiny little off-white shard of something sticking out of my gums on the inside of my lower molars. I figured it was a little piece of food that poked me, but when I touched it, it 1) was hard and sharp, 2) would not move, and 3) hurt so bad that it about knocked the wind out of me. Even in the moment I knew this sounded dramatic and highly improbable, but I was immediately Very Sure that it was a little shard of bone.

By the next morning it was so swollen that I couldn't see if it was still there, and after four or five days I ended up calling around and found a dentist who could get me in to take a look because my usual dentist at the student health center didn't have any immediate openings. By that point I was taking Tylenol + ibuprofen around the clock as well as using Orajel numbing gel and icing it, but nothing was touching the pain. Also, the side of my face and down into my neck was starting to swell, and sleeping and eating was extremely difficult due to the pain.

The dentist I ended up seeing was very friendly and pleasant but ultimately pretty dismissive. Nothing showed up on an X-ray but he could see a spot of "hyper-irritation" where I'd had the little shard, and he said it was possible that a "bone spur" worked its way out through my gums. Usually that only happens after oral surgery or an injury, but I'd also had a dental cleaning a few weeks prior that was weirdly aggressive and left that part of my gums bleeding and sore for several days, so it was possible that was enough to dislodge something left over from when I had my wisdom teeth removed years and years ago. Or maybe it was just a little cut. He then told me to alternate the Tylenol and ibuprofen instead of taking them simultaneously and to call back in two weeks if it wasn't better or if it started getting hard to eat or sleep. I reiterated that it already was hard to eat and sleep, and asked if I was understanding him correctly that he wanted me to take LESS pain medication. He paused, and then said to call back in one week if it wasn't better.

So obviously I went out to my car and cried. I have a very skewed pain tolerance from a lifetime of chronic illness experiences and I'm a very smiley and friendly person in general, so I do acknowledge that I don't usually LOOK like I'm in pain, especially to someone who's only just met me. But for me, the fact that I even made an appointment for it is a giveaway that this is like, off the charts levels of pain. I called my dad since he's a doctor and he was able to prescribe some antibiotics for me just in case, and walked me through how to adjust the ibuprofen dose to be the equivalent of prescription strength. I'd decided that if it wasn't any better by the next day, I was going to urgent care. Thankfully it was a smidge better, and over the next maybe two or three weeks it mostly went away, although for while I could still feel sort of a divot on my gum where the bone spur had been.

ANYWAY yesterday I had my regular dentist's visit, the first time I'd been in since then. I told the hygienist about it, and she seemed kind of alarmed, especially because she could also still feel the little spot on my gum. The dentist ALSO seemed pretty shocked and could feel where it was as well.

So here's the update: I apparently have a little bit of extra bone built up around my back lower molars, which is unusual but not unheard of, and mine is very very mild in comparison to what you see when you Google "mandibular tori" - mine is really just that it's slightly rounded or mildly bowed right below my molars rather than going straight down to the bottom of my mouth as is typical, minor enough that no dentists have ever mentioned it to me. I never even realized that wasn't what everyone's were like until this spring when a massage therapist I saw for TMJ stuff mentioned that she noticed it. So in general that's not any sort of issue for me, EXCEPT that the dentist yesterday said that the gum tissue can be pretty thin where it has to stretch over the extra bone, which can also be kind of pointy or sharp.

Given that plus the fact that I hadn't had any sort of recent injury or surgery in the area like you would expect for a bone spur, she said it was more likely that I somehow scraped or cut the gum right down to the bone.

It wasn't a bone spur. That was my literal, actual jaw bone showing through my gums.

[veinsfullofstars]

🐆 Kirbtober 2024 Day 8: Phantom 🐆

(ID: Kirby series fanart of Phantom Clawroline standing with elegant confidence, one leg bent to hold her weight while the other stretches forward for balance, her head turned slightly and tilted to gaze apathetically at the viewer, one paw raised up, the other held back, her neon-blue claws fully extended and glowing as brightly as the spots on her fur. END ID.)

Previous Day | Next Day | Prompt List (made by @/paintpanic)

Started on 09/07/24, finished on 09/08/24. | Kirbtober 2023 Comp

[notarobotsadly]

when someone doesn't reply to your opinion/addition in a vent/rant and suddenly you're in "did I fuck up should I backtrack" and "please just tell me if I fucked up so I can change my entire personality for you" and "I SHOULD JUST DELETE IT AND PRETEND IT NEVER HAPPENED" territory

[fours-writings]

more immortal y/n thoughts except it’s basically a direct continuation of my last post

Cw for mentions of blood and bones breaking (whoops sun accidentally breaks your back and not in the sexy way)

it’s a miracle you and moon managed to clean the remaining evidence of his earlier… “fit,” before it began to stain.

you dutifully helped the poor stunned animatronic clean himself as he refused to say another word after his last half-spoken question. his fingers twitched every time you ran the rag over his joints, clenching and unclenching, as if reliving just how easily your neck snapped underneath his gripped.

you didn’t force him to speak. he seemed frazzled as is, and you knew nothing you said would help. even after all this time, you still weren’t the best at comforting people.

however, even as you managed to clean the last visible bit with the rag soaked in bleach that stung your skin and nostrils lightly with each passing second you held it, moon didn’t seem too keen on leaving you just yet.

you expected more questions. horrified looks. guilt.

instead, he looked at you like a blessing straight from the lord.

you knew what moon looked like when he was excited. you observed everything around you almost as much as a machine like he was. mostly a habit stemmed from years of boredom and paranoia.

it was hard to tell whether you wanted to treat it like a fresh breath of air, or wanted to be offended by the fact of it.

you made no comment as you simply returned to the employee’s lounge— entirely empty, considering the lack of human staff in this place and even less of them voluntarily taking night shift for a multitude of reasons —to change into your spare clothes.

moon silently followed, lingering outside the door while you changed, and trailing behind you as you continued your night shift as if nothing happened. you trusted moon would scrub the footage of what just happened, if any of the cameras there were even on.

the next day, you chose to take over a coworker’s shift looking over the daycare. they gratefully let you, muttering something about the daycare attendant being freaky that you knew not to react to.

as you walked in around ten minutes before the daycare closed, you were greeted by a completely clueless sun bounding over to his favorite adult in the pizzaplex.

it was clear that moon had kept last night’s events a secret from his counterpart, and you were thankful for that. while you were fully prepared to give sun some half-assed explanation and comfort, it was obviously much more preferable to just not have to do any of that.

the day was slow compared to what you’ve heard happens in the daycare. only a couple children say hello to you, and the rest are occupied by sun’s usual entertaining antics. the animatronic even tries to tempt you into joining a couple games, to which you stubbornly deny each offer, much to his dismay.

as you dutifully watch him do his job, your eyes probably not blinking as you zone out a little, you notice something strange.

a little speck of something right on the rim of his little tutu.

specifically glowing a soft gold.

hm. so you didn’t do as good a job as you thought you did.

there was a pang of shame that you automatically stamped out with ease. didn’t matter. it wouldn’t stand out against his normal color scheme, and would probably go away in a few days. maybe a week at most.

the thought leaves your mind as quickly as it came to it, and you spend the rest of your day staring into space as the daycare attendant herds all the children around like hyperactive sheep.

eventually, your shift comes to a close as the daycare does as well.

you make no moves to leave, though, seeing as your next night shift starts in about an hour or so.

sun’s quick to run over to you as soon as the last child is gone, kneeling to your height in front of the desk like a dog eager for praise.

he babbles on about how the children were so nice today and he even got a few new pictures from the kiddos— apparently one was a liiiiiittle disturbing, but he didn’t mind because it was from his little superstars! —and that he just wanted to talk to you a little before he started cleaning up.

at one point, he asked for a quick little hug, to which you, of course, complied.

you stood up, and before you could each register it, he’d scooped you up and tugged you tight against his chest, arm wrapped around you like a vice.

during your earlier days here, he’d been very hesitant to hug you in fear of you getting mad or accidentally hurting you.

you reassured him you gave no fucks if he wanted to be touchy, and by now he took your word for it.

you barely noticed when his grip started to tighten, nor when pressure began to build up at the middle of your spine where his arms wrapped around your abdomen, and neither did sun.

however, you and him both noticed when his grip tightened a little too much, and a sickening snap rang out.

instantly he drops you, apologizing profusely and tentative pressing at your back for injuries, while you simply groan and hold your back as if it was just some simple back pain.

“No— nope, Sunny, it’s okay,” you reassured him, gently shooing away his hands, “you just popped my back a little, that’s all.”

a blatant lie. your back had visibly shifted a little, maybe a few segments dislocated or something. you definitely couldn’t turn on your spine at the moment.

“B-b-but it was so LOUD!” he protested in his usual worry.

“Yeah, my bones are loud,” you chuckled nonchalantly, “watch.”

your press your hands to where your spine had been shifted, some of the bone trying to poke through your skin. if you weren’t, well, you, you probably would be suffering quite the amount of agony and internal bleeding right now. but you were you.

carefully, you press against the upper half of your back, until another crack sounds out, and your spine is back together. you could already feel the internal wound healing beneath your flesh, warm and fuzzy like it had been reattaching your head to your neck.

“See?” you hum, doing a little spin in front of sun, “It’s all cool. You did nothing wrong.”

he clearly didn’t believe you, but you also knew he still thoroughly enjoyed the reassurance. his rays spun once over, and he let out a nervous chuckle.

“O-Oh, um, o-okay,” he reluctantly chirped back, “a-are you suuure you’re okay, though? You don’t, u-um, need a, like, a m-massage or anything..?”

you hold back a soft snicker as his fans start up in his flusteredness.

“I am fine, Sunshine,” you say with a slight smile, your grin widening as his fans speed up further. you walk over and pat him on the back, “now get to cleaning before the lights turn off.”

he immediately perks up at the mention of cleaning.

“OH— right, right, yes!!” he chirps, already sprinting back over to where the main mess of the daycare was, “Gotta clean up, clean up, clean up!”

as he goes on mumbling about how messy it was, you sit back down in your chair, waiting patiently for the clock to reach that fateful time.

the ache in your back had already faded, and so had the warmth. the chair beneath you leeched off what little heat you had, and you started to wish you’d bought that fluffy jacket you saw a few weeks ago.

you were looking forward to seeing moon, but at the same time not.

you didn’t know if his casual attitude from before was thanks to whatever was the robotic equivalent of adrenaline or was actually genuine, and you weren’t exactly looking forward to finding out.

[corsair-news-alliance]

[Sound File Handler Morse Bodycam]

[Begin Playback]

"SIGNAL. SIGNAL STOP IT SIG-"

[The sound of several gunshots from a portable automatic weapon]

"RA-"

<You should know better>

[Another burst of bullets]

<The Mercenary Queen does not take kindly to betrayers>

"Mercenary Queen? Do you even hear yourself?"

[Audible sounds of a grenade rolling followed by a scream of pain]

<The ghost in the halls begins to cry>

"S..s...Sssig..nal.... p...please"

<She can no longer run through the halls of this haunted home>

[Sounds of scraping, almost as if someone is dragging themselves across the floor and more crying]

"Pl...please no no...n not like this... no... S-"

<Let loose the cries of the traitor. Hear the sounds of war growing quiet>

"M..m...mm...mer...cy..... C...c..co...connnal"

[The sounds of someone gasping in pain and the sounds of bones snapping]

<You won't die slow in the cage of our Queen>

[Horrific Scream Cut Off]

[End Audio Log]

[serickswrites]

Make Me Your Villain XXVII

Master list link here (includes chapter links, character bios, and summary)

Ok, so we are now winding down with the story gang. This is the last main chapter, though there is a very cheesy epilogue out next week.

Warnings: death, blood, gore (brief mention), broken bones, grief, mcd, funeral, grief rituals, heart break

“I would like to pay my respects,” the red-haired man said once Nova had let Henry hold her. Someone had set his wrist. She would heal it later. Right now she barely had any energy to keep her eyes open. Not that she wanted to keep them open. Liam was dead, what did it matter. Did anything matter? “When you are ready of course. My family and I would like to say thank you once more.”

“We would as well,” another civilian family said as they stepped forward.

Nova looked around in awe as more and more of the civilians Liam had worked so tirelessly to save stepped forward. He had saved countless lives. A significant portion of Hiraethian’s population was alive because of Liam and everything he had done.

The mayor stepped forward. “I would like to offer the opportunity to all of those whose lives have been impacted by Liam by offering a state funeral.”

She couldn’t be serious. “Absolutely not,” Nova said angrily. She would not allow the mayor make a mockery of Liam.

The mayor’s eyes widened in surprise. “Of course I don’t mean to intrude on your mourning. Perhaps instead of a state funeral, we can still have an chance to honor him. Let him lie in state.”

Nova opened her mouth to give a scathing reply, but Henry cut her off. “We would be honored. Thank you.”

Nova glared at him but didn’t say anything. They could fight when they got back to the Haven.

The mayor’s eyes brightened a touch. “Wonderful. I will have the best funeral director in town meet with you later today. They can go over with you how you would like to have him arranged and interred.”

“I don’t want that. He wouldn’t want that. I want to take him home.” Nova had stopped listening to the mayor. Had stopped listening to anyone as she stared down at Liam once more. She wanted to take him home, clean him, put him in his best clothes, and then…Then she could begin to say goodbye.

Henry quickly added, “We would be happy to host them and go over how to arrange the ceremony.”

Somehow they got back to the Haven. Nova wasn’t entirely sure who was with them. She didn’t care. She just wanted to be alone with Liam. It had taken two people to carry Liam into the med bay and lay him on the exam table. Was he always this big? Had he always taken up so much space? He was a giant among men. She stared at him, the painful silence in the room growing.

“I’m sorry,” she finally whispered as a lone tear slipped down her cheek. “I’m so sorry, baby. I’m so sorry I failed you.”

She stood over him and cupped his cheek. His skin was cold and sticky where the flecks of blood had dried. “I wish it was me. It was supposed to be me. You should have let it been me.

“But you wouldn’t be you if you let it be me.” She wiped her tears away.

Nova went to the sink and filled a basin with water. She grabbed towels and a chair. She placed the basin and towels on the instrument table and placed the chair by Liam’s head. “I love you, more than anything, Liam,” Nova said as she dipped a towel in the and wiped along Liam’s jaw.

She repeated the process over and over. Until the basin was filled with pink water. She started the process again, when Henry walked in. “Oh,” was all he managed to say.

She didn’t respond. She just kept dipping the towel in water and wiping Liam’s face. His neck.

“Can I join you?” Henry said, finally breaking the silence.

Nova nodded, not trusting her voice. It should have been her. This was her fault. She failed. Failed all of them.

Together, Henry and Nova cleaned Liam’s body. They worked in silence, each in their own grief. They cleaned and combed his hair. Cleaned his face, neck, chest, stomach, and arms of all the blood coating them. They removed the tattered shirt from his ruined chest. Nova began to sob again as the extent of his chest wound was revealed. Jude had punched clean through Liam’s chest, completely destroying his heart.

Eventually, after they had dressed him in his finest outfit—the suit he had worn when they got married—Henry spoke again. “I’ll go see if the funeral director is here. She will stop him from….,” his voice broke, “from decaying. You two can discuss what you want to do after.”

Nova nodded again. She didn’t care if the funeral director could make him look like he was alive. She couldn’t bring him back to life. He was gone. She had failed in healing him. She stared down into his eyes once more. Eyes that she had stared into endlessly. Eyes that she knew better than her own. Eyes that, as her grief became all consuming once more, she would never see smile again. Never see laugh. Never see as he made love to her. Never see again.

“I love you, forever and always,” she said, wishing she could hear and I love you, gorgeous, in this life and the next one more time. She kissed his lips delicately. Then she kissed each cheek. And finally, she kissed his forehead as she closed his eyes, one last time.

The funeral director, as it turned out, had powers. She could freeze time, and her assistant was a green-crafter—someone who could manipulate plants. They had laid out a plan of letting Liam lie in state in the open air, wreathed in flowers of Nova’s choosing. Nova didn’t really care for the discussion until the assistant asked her for plans for after the ceremony.

“He wanted to be cremated,” Nova managed to say softly. That was all she knew about his wishes. He had believed he wouldn’t live long enough to really have a funeral plan. Nor one that would have so many attendees.

“And after?” The assistant had warm, hazel eyes. Her dark hair was in a neat knot at the nape of her neck.

And after didn’t matter, Nova wanted to say. And after and everything is over. But she couldn’t say that. Couldn’t do that. Because the truth was Nova didn’t want to let him go. She couldn’t bear the thought of him being somewhere in a wall or the ground.

The assistant nodded at Nova’s stomach. “I hear a congratulations are in order, but I’m sure it doesn’t feel that way now. Perhaps you want something for your child to know him by.”

Henry hugged Nova close as Nova began to cry again. “Could we take some time to think about it? What are our options?”

“Well, of course you can take your time. As for options—“

“Can you make a tree grow from seed quickly?” Nova said, not caring that the woman was in the middle of speaking.

The assistant smiled. “Yes, yes I can.”

“I want him here. At the Haven. We have plenty of space. Could you make a willow grow?”

“Over him? Yes, I can. And I can make it so it will never die. It will grow old, large, and strong, but it will never get sick, never fall, and never die.”

And not only be an undying symbol of her grief, but also of his triumphant victory. “Your child will be able to swing safely from its branches, to climb its boughs, and rest under the cool shade of their father’s tree. I can do that for you, Nova. And for him.”

***

Nova found herself sitting with Henry opposite the glass casket that they had laid Liam in. He was wreathed with hundreds upon hundreds of roses. The fragrance was sickening. She watched as the crowd passed him. Some paused to stare, while others paused to speak a few words. Several tried to touch him, hence the glass casket.

She could barely stomach the affair. These were the same people that had thrown rocks at his body, had spit on him, cursed him, and celebrated his death only days ago. These were the same people that had shunned him for fifteen years. Had blamed him for the evil of the world.

“They’re so fake,” Nova said to Henry.

Henry flexed his newly healed wrist as though it was still sore. “Not all of them. There were the ones he saved. The ones he told to keep quiet to keep safe until it was time. And it is time.”

“But that’s not all of them here now, Henry.” Nova hated this. Hated every moment of this. But she couldn’t bear to part with Liam. Not yet.

“They didn’t know, Nova.”

Nova crinkled her nose. She would never smell another rose again after this. “They don’t deserve him. They don’t deserve to pay respects to him.”

Henry turned and looked at her full on. His face was pinched with his sadness. “But he does. He deserves the respect and so much more. He deserved to live. To be happy. And to live a long happy life with you. With us. But that didn’t happen. Let him have this. Let him have the love and peace he so desperately fought for. That he died for, Nova. Let him have that.”

Nova opened her mouth and closed it. Henry was right. Liam deserved the world. And he didn’t get it. She swiped at her eyes with a tissue. Liam deserved this. She wasn’t going to take this away. No matter how much it hurt her. “They don’t deserve forgiveness. I can’t forgive them.”

“And you don’t have to. He would have, of course,” Henry said with a soft smile. “But he was better than me.” Nova nodded in agreement. “Better than me.” She leaned her head on Henry’s shoulder.

Henry wrapped his arm around her. “He was the best. The world didn’t deserve him, Nova. And now that he’s….gone,” Henry’s voice caught for a moment. “Now that he’s gone, we can only honor him. Honor his memory. His legacy.”

Henry nodded to Nova’s stomach. She put her hand on her stomach, wishing she could feel the baby. She scanned her body, feeling the baby’s heart pulsing, feeling its peacefulness as it grew within her.

“I won’t let his death be in vain. I will fight to maintain this peace he created. Until my dying breath. I will keep the two of you safe, Nova. For as long as I live.” Henry squeezed Nova’s shoulder as they watched more civilians trickle by.

***

Three days later, he held her as the funeral director’s assistant planted a seed above the compostable urn containing Liam’s earthly remains. Nova had planted the urn, despite her hands shaking uncontrollably. This was it.

“It will take a few moments to grow, but it will be full grown within the hour.”

Henry guided Nova back to a safe distance as they watched the seed take root and grow. By the time the tree’s leaves kissed the ground, the branches towering high above them, Nova was a sobbing mess on the grass, shaded by the tree. Because Liam was really gone.

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