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bucknastysbabe · 11 months

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OOP FOUND A FUN ONE

Prompt #452

Humans have an insatiable appetite for the minerals and other resources that are required to build robot and computer slaves. These natural resources are excavated from deep within the Earth's crust by a team of robots with enhanced artificial intelligence. You are a scientist who controls these robots through a cybernetic device implanted in your brain. But the robots have become self-aware – and are learning to control their master.

Rating: Explicit

Tags: TW: Violence, mind control, mention of assault, pnv!sex, we fackin robots, robot!bucky, dystopian!au, touch starved buck buck he’s a good boy, angst, open ending

Fracture - B. Barnes

A general term to include any kind of discontinuity in a body of rock if produced by mechanical failure, whether by shear stress or tensile stress. Fractures include faults, shears, joints, and planes of fracture cleavage.

The Pierce Corporation didn’t care about its expendable Cynernetics. They’d just send another team down. You were the lead scientist of this group, diving deep in planet XE-2A for Anthracite. Anything to keep the dying Earth alive just a bit longer. Holstering your stun gun you thumbed at the entry point of cybernetic implant in your brain. It had been bothering you recently— might need a trip to medbay soon.

Walker and Hodgkins, actual humans, watched over the multiple screens showing your crew. You let them have names, much to Walker’s chagrin. He was still sore on that demotion from not yielding enough minerals due to multiple uprisings under his leadership. Your team constantly was in the top echelon.

“See Walker, if you give them the illusion of choice, they’re much more eager to work,” you said, eyes scanning over Bucky working hard. The blonde glared at you and harrumphed, “They’re fucking machines, robots, AI designed by that prick Stark, you think they’re so obedient. Just wait.”

Hodgkins shrugged. Your implant spiked with pain, you wincing. Both pairs of eyes landed on you with concern. Shrugging them off you muttured, “Going to medbay, my chip port is off. Don’t fuck with the team, please.” Shuffling to through the dreary halls you sighed. Joining Pierce Corp you were hoping for more of the biological side, but they liked your leadership skills and stuck you down in the mines. The cold, uncaring, filled with god knows what mines.

You liked your team though. Let them take breaks, chat with them, sometimes come down to help out. Build a camaraderie. They were eerily close to human anyways, didn’t make much of a difference. Although you had to admit the new fellow didn’t sit right with your gut— he’d been transferred to your team recently. Didn’t want to take a name, just worked. He was under the notorious Rumlow before.

Cold eyes, snarky comments, vile sense of humor. He didn’t care much for you either, no matter how hard you had tried. Bucky, your best worker favorite, offered a pat on the shoulder and whispered, “He’s still messed up from Rumlow, don’t worry about it.” He flashed a pretty smile and you shook off your worries, Buck had a good way of making things seem better.

Another pang. You picked up the pace, growing fearful and agitated. If the chip didn’t work, you couldn’t get your bots back under your control. That meant a certain death. The coward Walker got lucky when they revolted on him. But it was unlikely they’d uprise.

A set of white doors opened and closed, a cleasing spray hosing you down, then the second pair opened. Dr. Banner looked up from his desk, raising a brow. Holding your hands up you joked, “Not the end of the world Banner, I’m not sick or infected with parasites. My inhibitor chip port keeps popping off with these sharp pains.”

He frowned and beckoned you over to lay down on a steel table, murmuring, “How long have you had these pains?” He waved a bright light in your pupils as you hummed, “Uh, about a month or so ago. They’ve gotten worse. First just random but now it’s irritating.”

“That’s strange. Haven’t heard of port issues. Maybe a wire went bad. Let me get an X-ray.”

You turned your head and he scanned the area, clicking his tongue. “Yep, bad wiring, want me to knock you out and take care of it now?” You nodded vigorously, begging, “Please! Driving me up a wall!”

Later on, you were in the mess hall with the other sector scientists, which usually was a dick showing contest. You and Yelena were the only females, usually sticking to your corner. Rumlow was recounting this female worker he’d cornered up and got her to suck him off after hours, Rollins and Sitwell eating it up like pigs.

“Maybe next time she’ll bite your dick off and do us all a favor,” you hollered over to the asshole. Eyes widened you sat back down abruptly, staring at Yelena in fear. You didn’t say that. You wouldn’t dare say that. What just happened?

Rumlow clicked his tongue and scoffed, “Oh shut it over there, everyone knows you and that silver armed freak have a little something-something going on.” You stammered, “I’m completely professional with my team Rumlow.” The blonde girl put a hand on your shoulder, shaking her head.

He stood up and leered at you, humming, “Mhmmm, if not then maybe you need to come to my quarters, might loosen you up a tad.”

“Fuck off Rumlow.”

“Bitch.”

It was quiet, you forking down your food, stomach in knots. Why did you say that earlier? It felt like you had a puppet pulling your mouth open. Yelena asked, “You alright?” Rubbing your port you mumbled, “I..I don’t know. Dr. Banner fixed my bad wire, maybe I just need a new replacement. It felt like something took control of me.”

Rumlow hollered across the hall again, “Hey, how’s that jackass A3-54 doing on your team now? Piece of work, think he’s too good to talk. Ain’t dumb enough to know he’s AI.”

The jolt in your body erupted again, sending you upright, slamming your hands on the table. “You’re all going to fucking die you bastards! And I know you’ll be first Rummy boy!” Rumlow advanced on you, snarling. He fell over on the table, out cold. Yelena holstered her weapon, set on stun. She eyed you and said, “Banner. Now.”

She briskly escorted you to the med bay again and declared upon entry, “Complete removal of inhibitor chip, something’s not right.” You tried to explain and then your vision grew tilted, blackness encompassing your vision.

Upon awakening the backup lights were on, red alarms flashing and blaring. You blinked open and felt your chip, still intact. Banner was dead on the floor, you held back a retch at Yelena’s lifeless body. Why were you still alive and what the fuck was going on? A voice prattled off in your head.

“Hi commander, it’s A3-54. Figured it was time for an overhaul before Pierce sends in the troops. Going to need you to manipulate a little override for me now, okay?”

Your body was moving, forcing you along step by step to Banner’s computer. You grunted in pain, “Stop…stop it..no!” Nasty laughter echoed in your head, other voices piping in. Tears slid down your face as you watched your fingers type in the codes, pulling up the interface for scientist and AI command chips.

“Fuck! Fuck please! Pierce will annihilate us all!,” you pled.

The override button was pressed, the sounds of cheering echoing in your scrambled brain. You crumpled to your knees, utter fear wracking your body. This place would be in flames before the end of the night. Catastrophic levels of hell. You slumped against the desk, head in your hands.

These robots were designed to be much stronger and durable. Without the control trip, you were powerless. The station would be turned around very, very quickly. You eyed your gun, contemplating ending it all. Shakily reaching for the weapon you held it to your temple.

“No!,” came a voice, “Put the fucking gun down.”

It was Bucky. Was he part of this? How could he— fuck. Your chest ached. Miserably moaning you responded, “What’s the goddamn point Buck? Go on, get out of range before the kill switch is activated.”

“Not without you. Where are you?”

“Med-bay. That fucking asshole killed Yelena and Banner.”

Staring at the two kind souls ripped to shreds, a familiar cold hand shook your shoulder. You lethargically stared at Bucky’s familiar face and croaked, “Why?” He gritted his jaw and picked you up easily, asking, “Where are the ships?” You laughed, “They’re probably being swarmed by now. We’re stuck on this rock.”

“I can tell you’re lying. Spit it,” he said, way too gentle.

Glaring at him you grumbled, “Bottom level. Top clearance. I should be able to get in. The smart ones will be there too.” Bucky grabbed Yelena’s gun and tucked it in his mining suit. You directed him toward the vaults, eventually making the robot put you down.

The pair of you made your way deeper and deeper down eerily greenish lit hallways. You finally mustered the courage to ask, “How long?” He raised a brow, interrupted by a hoarse sob, “How long did you know this was possible? I tried to be good, I cared for my team, I cared for,” you clamped your mouth shut. Shoving past Bucky you took the lead.

He called after you, catching up to wrap his titanium arm around your waist in a vice. Bucky’s chilly body was pressed tight behind you, artificially made lips brushing a sensitive ear. The brunette rasped, “I’ve been self-aware for a year now. But I didn’t know about the chip malfunction. The defective was talking about it but I thought it was impossible. You going to finish that sentence, commander?”

Tears streamed down your cheeks, Bucky wiping them away with synth-skin. He sighed, “You’re killing me right now, just say it.” Glaring the robot down you wheezed, “I cared for you. I care for you,” you pointed at him, “But I never would let this insolence slide if I heard of an overthrow.”

He frowned, looking painfully guilty. The rest of the walk was silent until reaching the huge doors containing the secret ship. A3-54 was making Rumlow open it up, the former master shaking with every movement. He was already profusely bleeding. A3 howled, “I’ll make you hurt worse, fucking hurry up!”

Blue synthetic blood and the red of human blood spattered the steel walls. You gasped in shock, wide-eyed look turned to the usually docile Bucky. His eyes looked hollow, sculpted lips turned down. The doors slid open to reveal the unharmed ship, shifting Rumlow with a slick squelch.

You felt sick. But you needed their bodies to figure this out. Bucky easily grabbed both of the deceased individuals, dragging them into the chamber. Right, hive mind currently. You slammed the lock on the door, sealing the space back up.

Rounding the back of the sleek ship, emblazoned with the grim logo of Pierce Corp, you keyed in, the walkway sliding down with a hiss. Bucky followed you in, still dragging the corpses. You hissed, “Put them in that compartment over there, please.”

You settled into the cockpit, placing the coordinates to the nearest home base. Bucky sat down next to you, still quiet. Only the clicking of the dash and hum of the thrusters starting up filled the void. The port opened and the ship zoomed off at hyper-speed.

“We have a day. I’ll have to relay a message soon. I’d like to be alone now.”

He didn’t move, metal hand crunching the steel arm of the chair. Bucky’s jaw clicked and shifted, eyes flickering around. He ground out, “I care for you too. It’s not in my programming. I should have reported A3 commander. Forgive me, please.”

You stared at his sorrowful blues for a long time, feeling numb. This was wrong. Everything was wrong. Why didn’t they put you in bio? You needed to send the message to base before they’d blast you on site.

Instead you ordered the robot, “Go pull out the cot.”

He nodded, eyes lighting up slightly. You kept your mind blank. “Lay on it,” came the addition. Confused orbs stared at you. Slowly you pulled off your gear, then the standard issue garb of your rank, dropping down to thin underwear. He got the point somewhere along the way, undressing frantically, arm whirring.

You eyed his frame, nakedness only hidden by issued briefs. Straddling perfectly crafted thighs you hummed, “Why did they even give you a cock?” Bucky’s cheeks purpled from the blue blood underneath. He stammered, “I- I- don’t know. Didn’t use it except for my hand.”

“Did you touch yourself to me BU-18?,” came your silky purr. He whispered, eyes closed in shame, “Yes commander, I did, many times.” You grabbed his hardened need and stroked it through the thin fabric, the poor thing gasping and whimpering.

“Never by anyone else, no other commanders, no team member on a lonely night?,” you hissed as jealousy grew in your gut.

His brows furrowed as you continued to pump his purpled cock, “Only you, you’re my ah! Commander. I serve you!” You palmed his cheek and growled, “Good boy. Obviously they wired you right.” He softly moaned your name, nuzzling into your warm touch. Like a reptile in a way, seeking warmth to heat their blood.

He stammered, “C-commander, can I kuh-kiss you please?” Bucky looked so pretty like this, your favorite strung out with need. For you. Leaning down your body pressed against his, full breasts pleasantly plastered to his huge chest. His artificial breathing ramped up, hands trembling at his sides.

“You can touch me Bucky, I forgive you, but don’t hide any secrets like that again.”

He pursed his lips, hands eagerly roaming your curves, tender and gentle. You tilted his head and chastely pressed your dry lips to his own, hand possessively holding a sharp jaw, thumb pressed up under on a pulsing vein. The brunette groaned into your mouth, a strangled attempt at your name. You took the chance to lap into his maw, lips sliding wetly.

You gently made contact with his tongue, Bucky jolting. Sensitive creatures. You chased it down again, your sweet boy whining through his nose as tongues tangled lethargically. His hands groped at you harder, massaging the softness of your ass. Bucky’s cock throbbed and pulsed underneath, needy.

You pulled back from his sweet lips, cooing, “You want to fuck me Bucky baby? Being such a good boy, getting me out of that death trap. Being loyal,” he whimpered again as your thumb played with his red lips.

“Please, I’ll be yours forever,” he promised. Deep in your heart and the hardwiring, you knew he meant it. Your own flesh and blood chest constricted at the strange emotions. You ran your fingers through soft hair and instructed for him to get on top. That was done easily with his impressive strength, Bucky now slotted between your thighs.

He closed his eyes again, slowing haphazard breath. You circled your thumbs into his hips, cooing, “Take your time, slow and steady Bucky. No rush.” He opened his eyes, blue orbs focused on your breasts, mouth coming down to suckle. He writhed and whimpered around your buds, making your cunt grow wetter and wetter. Greedy mismatched hands squeezed and played with the flesh, like he couldn’t get enough.

His began to slide against your slick heat, drawing the robot out of his reverie with a sharp cry. The brunette babbled, “Commander, ah, mmh, commander, lemme fuck you now, I- I’ll do my best.” You smiled gently, tugging on long locks, “I know, ready when you are.”

His wet lips gasped against your neck, the blunt head of his cock opening you up slowly. Your legs wrapped around his waist, heated from your own body. You laughed breathlessly, “Really though— they didn’t have to give you such a pretty cock.” Bucky smiled, open mouthed as he slid ever deeper into your cunt. He groaned, “I’m so- hngh- fuckin’ glad they did.”

He bottomed out inside your silky walls, flexing and pulling at Bucky’s most sensitive synth-skin. Cradling your hands in his hair you tugged again, breathing against him, foreheads pushed together. The robot’s hands held tight at your thighs while he began to slide back and forth.

Stuttering breaths intermingled as he grew more confident, picking up the pace of the fucking, your slick pussy entrancing him. You idly wondered if robots even could reach climax, if they’re like a fuck toy. Bucky moaned, “I’ll cum really fast if you think like that so more.” You kissed him desperately, laughing again.

The cot beneath you creaked as he thrust, tip of his cock making a toe-curling drag from your cervix all the way down the soft roof of your cunt. You gripped Bucky’s hair harder, moaning his name, growing higher in pitch on each push of his hips. One of your hands clawed at his back, blue blood reaching the surface.

He nipped at your jaw and your noses crashed together as Bucky took your mouth, feral with need. Trim hips and heavy balls clapped against your softer body, the slick noises of your pussy growing embarrassingly loud. Throwing your head back you cried, “Oh fuck- yes- right there! Good!”

Bucky had angled your hips to strike deeper into your sensitive walls, panting and grunting with effort. His chest dragged along your own, him whining, “Feel s’good, what can I do, is this good?” You nodded in disjointed jerks, moving the silver hand to your swollen bud.

“Suh-fuck-circles, tight, baby, yeah like that,” you instructed him in a tight whine, Bucky sucking his fat bottom lip under white teeth at your body reacting. You squirmed around him, tightening up, the robot returning to fucking you and roughly thumbing your clit as told.

You whined and begged, “Don’t stop, doing so good, kiss me baby, kiss me.” Desperately pulling Bucky’s moaning mouth to your own you licked into his mouth, lips colliding sporadically, your baby nipping at your lip. The pair of you cried eachother’s names wetly, bodies seizing up as climax overtook the senses.

You clamped down on him, clawing his back again, whining. Bucky’s hands tightened to the point of pain, him grunting and moaning as he peaked, cock pulsing and swelling. He whimpered, “Oh fucking hell, I love you.” You pretended to not hear it and kept attempting to kiss him as the orgasm crashed and subsided like a wave.

In the wake, Bucky leaned back onto his haunches, cock sliding out with a slick noise. He pet your thighs, apologizing, “I- uh- didn’t mean to say that.” His cheeks were dark with that synthetic blood, eyes watery with embarrassment. You leaned up with a hiss, cradling his face.

“Look at me.”

He reluctantly did.

“After all of this, I think I love you too. Always were my favorite. We need eachother now. More than ever.”

His shoulders slumped with relief, seeking another kiss, this one short but meaningful. You sighed, “Fuck, I need to send that message, c’mon let’s get dressed.” He nodded shortly, helping you up. Bucky shooed your hands and murmured, “Let me.”

The brunette helped you back into underwear and your uniform, leaving the armor scattered around. You helped him do the same and limped to the pilots seat. Dialing the base radio code you cleared your through and spoke, “This is Commander Alpha 5, I have evacuated the revolt on XE-2A. My team is missing, A3-54 was the defective and is dead. We have it’s body for study. BU-19 remained compliant and has accompanied me. I also have the body of Commander Alpha 4, Brock Rumlow. We expect to arrive within an Earth rotation.”

You sat back with a sigh, waiting for a reply. The radio crackled and a voice returned.

“Thank you Commander Alpha 5, you have done good work. We will be expecting your safe arrival. Signing off.”

You didn’t expect to be greeted by the CEO himself in a tiny office at the base. Space floated on outside a thick window. Bucky sat next to you, arms chained. Alexander Pierce commended you and then his face turned eerily serious. Two guards stood silent behind you.

He murmured, “What happened on XE-2A was unprecedented. But from our failures we find new research. You and BU-18 will need to be studied for some time. This…partnership…established between the pair of you is magnificent.”

You shared a look with Bucky. Atleast you’d be with him for experimentation. You assented, “Thank you sir, I am in support of anything for Pierce Corp.”

He smiled, “Good,” his eyes flicked to the back, “Ready the chairs for them.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes angst #dystopian au

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godshitgirl · 3 months

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| It Hurts | TodoBaku /DekuBaku |

TW: Self harm

Katsuki's bad habits start creeping back up again after Izuku leaves UA. Luckily, Shoto is here to lend a hand.

9:28pm, Thursday

Recovery Girl had an expected, yet, unwanted visitor.

Weakly stepping into her clinic was Class 1-A's homeroom teacher Shota Aizawa with a young boy named Katsuki by his side.

To say the boy was disheveled would be an understatement. Almost every inch of his skin was littered with cuts and scars, even some had burns of them from what looked like small, concentrated explosions. He looked like a child had covered him in deep red stickers.

The nurse let out a sigh of worry. She didn't need to say anything as a simple exchange of knowing nods from the teacher to her accomplished more than necessary. Mr. Aizawa carefully led his student to an all-so-familiar bed and sat on the chair next to him. They had been in here so many times the chair was already sitting there, morbidly waiting for their return.

Recovery Girl took Katsuki's hands and examined his wrists. The cuts were not as deep as before, but there were far more of them, implying a rapid, repetitive motion instead of deep, long, slow ones. She rolled up his pant leg which revealed a set of bruises littered all over each of them, no visible pattern, though it seemed similar to the ones he had when he "fell" down the stairs a couple times that one day.

Now for the part she was looking forward to the least. She couldn't bare it, the way her heart broke each time she did it. Slowly raising her head, the nurse met the boy eye-to-eye. Yet, his pupils weren't facing her. They were facing forward, but they weren't particularly looking at anything. Its like a vast hole had opened up and sucked out all the life from his eyes. Aside from that, there were cuts on his lips, bruises on his cheek, his nose was bleeding, and a deep gash had appeared under his eye. Yet his expression remained the same, empty, lifeless, stoic, despite the deep physical pain.

"As usual," the old woman started, trying her best to break the silence and replace it with something more...wholesome. Yet the news was going to be rather far from it. "The sheer amount of injuries will take a while to heal completely, which I'm guessing is what you want," she tried to meet the boy's gaze again, but he still stared into nothing. "Even with my Quirk I can only do so much. Anyway, I suggest you stay the night. There's nothing much I can do, but at least I can ensure you won't be alone, if that's okay with you." She turned to face Aizawa, whose head was in his hand as he slouched forwards in his chair. His long black hair was tied into a messy ponytail with a couple strands in the way of his face. He looked up from where he had leaned his weight on his hand to reply to her, letting her know he'd be okay with staying to watch over his student. With that she went to gather some tools she would need for the procedure. With her gone, Aizawa took the chance to speak.

"You said you weren't gonna do this anymore." He said.

"I know. Sorry." Came Katsuki's rarely monotone voice. He didn't even bother to look his teacher in the eye, not that he could anyway.

"You're worrying me, you know that? And if your friends and family knew they'd be worried sick as well, you do know that, right?"

"I know. Sorry." Katsuki repeated.

"You could've gotten seriously hurt."

"I know. Sorry."

"Hurting yourself won't bring him back."

"....".

Katsuki's lips moved as if he was about to say something, but after a second of thought he shut it again. He didn't answer him after that.

Recovery Girl activated her Quirk but as it could take a couple hours, she needed to cover the wounds to ensure that they wouldn't get infected during the wait. After that she left the clinic and went home, leaving a sleeping Aizawa next to a, to use a more accurate term, passed out Katsuki.

12:17am, Friday

Katsuki's eyes opened. The whole room was dark as the lights were off but he could still make out what it looked like. To his right was a curtain hiding away another bed. To his left, a bedside table, on it a phone, wallet, and set of keys, as well as a sleeping Aizawa sitting next to it. Seated upright, he took a look at his arm. The cuts that had just been made hours before were almost entirely healed. All that remained were thin red lines that stretched across his wrist. With his other hand he traced a finger on them in a perpendicular motion, feeling the ridges of the scars paint patterns on his sense of touch. Looking around he realized no one else was there, and that it was already past 12. With nothing better to do, but not without a rather unstable mental condition, he quietly got off the bed and snuck out of the room.

The halls of UA were darker than he expected. He reached out a hand and felt around the walls to know where he was going. Once he got to the stairs he heard a set of footsteps coming closer, forcing him to race up the steps in case it was Aizawa ready to give him another lecture. He didn't count how many steps or staircases he went up until he was face-to-face with a door. It was the only thing on that floor which proved he was on the school rooftop. He was about to climb back down when he noticed the door was slightly ajar, not locked like he had thought it was. Hesitantly he walked out and was met with the cool breeze of the early morning city. The cement was cold under his feet and the wind hit his skin like it knew something. He hadn't felt so tranquil in such a long time.

The breeze swept his messy, spiky hair out of the way, enabling him to get a clear view of the sky above him. He finally understood why the sky was always associated with heaven or with gods. What he saw was ethereal. The clouds were of a light blue and swayed across the canvas as little bright stars littered the deep blue ocean. The moon was nonexistant that night.

"Bakugou," came a voice.

Katsuki turned his head to meet his eyes with his classmate. Red and white strands of messy bedhead swayed around his face, grounded by his scalp. Shoto's eyes were wide in what wasn't exactly shock, but of something more tranquil. He had seen something far more beautiful than the ethereal night sky right then and there.

The boys were silent for a second.

"Hey." Katsuki greeted. He didn't know exactly what to say.

"I, uh..." Shoto started. "I heard that something happened to you, so I went to the clinic to check and, uh, you weren't there, so...." the awkwardness in his voice interrupted his speech.

They were quiet again. It was like the only sound in the world was of the wind howling in the distance.

Suddenly, a soft burst of laughter erupted from their mouths.

"What was that?" Katsuki asked, a hand loosely covering his awkward smile. "You sounded so nervous!"

"I dunno! It just happened!" Shoto laughed so hard he snorted, causing Katsuki to pause yet laugh some more. As soon as they quieted down, the two boys sat side by side on the floor with their eyes gazing up at the stars.

"I heard what happened." Shoto started. "What's been happening...Bakugou, I'm so-"

"Save it." Katsuki cut him off. Yet there was a slight lack of venom in his voice, as if he was genuinely upset but...not angry.

"I'm not here to hear some bullshit about how you care about me, and how you love me, and how you're there for me, I just..." He looked down in what seemed like...shame? Grief? Disappointment? "I just want you to stay. That's it. No talking necessary."

Silence. Then,

"We don't have to talk." Shoto spoke up.

"But to be fair, I don't like what he did either." Katsuki's eyes widened as he swiftly turned to look at Shoto.

"What?"

"He left. Instead of trusting in us that we would help him, he went off to deal with it on his own. He didn't think about or care what it would do to us, he was only thinking about himself." He said.

"It was stupid."

"Yeah, it was really stupid." Katsuki smirked and looked away.

"He shouldn't have done that."

"Yeah."

"I honestly don't know who's hurting from that decision more, him or you."

There was silence again.

"He doesn't deserve you, Bakugou." Shoto said, yet his eyes were focused on a cricket that had made its way to the rooftop in front of them.

"After everything you've been through together, he doesn't get to just leave. He doesn't get to do that to you."

Katsuki's eyes softened, and he looked away again, focusing instead on his criss-crossed legs.

"You don't have to say that."

"I want to."

"Okay."

"I think it's true."

"Yeah."

Katsuki looked up at the sky again. There they were, the light blue clouds, the shining distant stars, the deep blue ocean above and yet, this time, the moon was present. Rising and shining like it had been there all along. But for some reason, Katsuki only noticed it was there now.

Maybe it was there the whole time, and he didn't even realize it.

He leaned his head onto his friend's shoulder.

"I think it is, too."

_______________________

WOOO BEEN A WHILE SINCE IVE FED YALL HUH

sorry if it isn't that good I'm tired and just wanted to get this idea out of my head

BKG BBY HE DOESNT DESERVE YOUUUUU

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kidddoz · 7 months

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Lotftober, day 12 - The Hunt

Brutus

And the decision was made. To smoke him out was the verdict every hunter was waiting for. And so, the hunting began.

Looking back, some of them could admit they had been waiting for this dream to come true long ago. Some others wished that from the beginning they landed on this miserable island.

Perfectly organized as good Englishmen do, they stood in a queue, and the war paint covered their decided hungry faces. They were going to war. They deserved the war they had all been yearning for.

The weaker ones trembled, the cold sea wind caressing their whipped red skin mixed with mud and flies looking out to lay their eggs on the soon-to-be infected backs. So little were their backs that it would be a shame to see them in such a putrid state.

The strongest ones felt their blood running and their muscles tensing with anticipation. The eagerness gnawed their pumping hearts, the dark in their pupils growing, and their hungry mouths almost spitting rabies. Their sticks sharpened at two sides made them feel powerful.

And so the great Chief provided the light. He was their Prometheus, and he deserved to be obeyed as a proper titan. Bigger than a human, more brutal than a god. His guttural scream was the order, and so the ululations began with each step further.

But after all, every excited kid would try to run as fast as he could to the finish line. So the bigguns just stepped further and further. They walked until they ran, nailing splinters, tiny rocks and thorns into their feet. But they just kept running. That pig - that awful pig has to be chased. They were hungry, they wanted meat now. They all wanted to make meat out of that human-shaped kid that was somewhere around here. They needed to play butcher. They all wanted to play like kids, messy and happy.

The pig was scared, they could feel it. Panic had such a distinguished essence that they all could recognize almost the instant they went adrift. But now, it was much sweeter. The panic mixed with desperation and a hint of being betrayed was as sweet as caramel, and they felt addicted to that smell. They just had to look where it was hiding.

The poor creature awaited. The fire roared closer and closer, but at least it was not actively hunting it down. Hidden under a bush, the pig hoped for a miracle for the shadows to erase any trace of white skin that could be noticed.

It did not matter the number of casualties. It was an incentive. Those who survived get to hunt the pig. Those who were the true hunters were to taste their price. The sweet, tender and rosy meat of something new, something exciting. Something that reassured them that there was no way to go back now.

______________

GOD this is such a banger. I think the instrumental of this song fits perfectly with the hunting sequence of the last chapter. If I were the director of a new version of lotf, this song would definitely be there.

Anyway, I almost skipped this day because I had a mid-term that was traumatizing oh god, it was a terrible day today. But at least I got time to get to do what I enjoy the most, so here! Enjoy!

#lotf #lord of the flies #lotftober #lotf ralph #tagged ralph bc hes the pig #Spotify

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kiwibirdlafayette · 1 year

Text

im bored at work and feel like rambling about some mianite verse c!Tom headcanons. so backstory headcanon time

cw for zombie related things and (temporary) character death. under a cut just to be safe

I like to imagine because its implied that the Minecraft Project precedes Mianite S1 (NOT Isles that shit chronologically takes place after S2 when him and Jordan travel back in time to that era i refuse to believe anything else), that Tom starts in that realm/universe. We''ll dub it for the time being Astrakheins (iykyk) as a human. Unzombified.

I don't really know much about TMP in terms if theres a canon storyline but in this HC at least the Syndicate family has a long history of running the industry in this era and in time, the mantle falls to Thomas and his sister Alice. Under their command, the world flourishes into a prosperous empire of farming, mining and resources. In addition, a strong bond is formed with a goddess by the name of Ianite and her the Voidwalkers of the End and the mysterious beings of the nether.

However, as things go. Things go.

Within a couple years of being in charge, Tom falls ill with a mysterious infection that starts to... turn him. While he maintains a healthy physical state, he notices the skin on his hands rotting at the seams of former injuries, his hair changing from its usual brown blonde to a sickly cerulean. Alice and the others come to him with concerns, but the zombification is nothing to him. He goes on as normal, and is quite productive to say the least.

However, it isn't until after the ender dragon fight where something changes, where the illness begins to take over him in a way that renders him bedridden for weeks. Ianite herself has no idea where it could have come from, instead citing a possible origin from the Nether, which in the absence of any god has been slowly deteriorating. And to her knowledge, there is no way of fighting it. He tries to move, but eventually becomes completely immobile despite multiple limb surgeries.

And one day, his eyes closed and would not open again.

Heartbroken, Alice had no choice but to bury him, and continue on. The empire could not fall this easily. Little did she know, as she laid her brother to rest in the ground, something, not of this world watched on. Sitting. Waiting.

And finally it struck.

In the middle of a business meeting with redstone engineers from the End, a multiversal rift tears a gaping chasm through the sky, the edges burning with a blaze unlike anything the citizens had ever seen before. From it jumped a demon, a dragon, a god with furiously glowing golden eyes and a cloak covered in hot ash, his gaze set on one thing only.

The grave of Tom Syndicate.

Using the power he must have possessed he raises a wall of obsidian, magma and blackstone so high that no one can get to him, regardless of how powerful- including Alice. She frantically reaches into her pockets and calls to Ianite.

No answer.

Within he chants a language not ever having been spoken in Astrakheins before, breaking the ground at his feet to rise pools of lava lifting the body of the zombified man before him, opening his fully black eyes and red pupils to face the god.

Tom himself didn't quite know where he was, in all honesty.

He recognizes some things, some builds, some faces. His memory is foggy. He retains some names, the skills in which it would take to survive, but he hadn't come back right. He hadn't come back the same.

None of what he does remember is alluring enough to insist on staying when the god before him, introducing himself as Dianite, offers to take Tom to this realm of anarchy to serve as his champion.

Champion. How could he resist such a title? Especially after this guy seems to have brought him back from a limbo he was stuck in.

The conversation is not heard by others. But it must have been rather promising to have a deal struck in such a short time.

The walls around him and his god crumble to the ground. The earth closes up and the lava returns to its underground tomb. Dianite raises his blade to the sky in victory, and flies up, Tom trailing closely after. He goes almost without second thought back through the rift, sealing it shut behind him almost as quickly as it had opened.

And that's the last Alice and Astrakheins ever sees of Tom "SynHD" Syndicate.

For now.

#mianite #tom syndicate #mianite headcanon #lafakiwi writes #cw zombie #tw character death #tw fictional illness #the alice lore ill add on later i cant let yall know who the Nowhere is yet :]c #anyway yeah enjoy this #i mostly needed to write it out for a Specific Other Thing #before I forgot what i had written the next time i do lore on it #but yeah. anyway excuses for post-revival capsize having tom knowing that kinda feeling. of not really recalling all of their past lives #the zombificiation beam that hit tom is a little abstract in nature but just hear me out #gkm writer arc

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hivesfics · 3 years

Text

Warnings- dark content, fuck or die, minors dni

Content Warnings:

heisenberg has lycan-like features, sharper teeth, sharper nails.Knotting, rough sex, probably can be considered animalistic, cumplay, messy sex, lots of growling, biting, hair pulling, scratching. (Also ik he is not a werewolf himself i just think it'd be hot) breeding kink

An odd spore has taken root in the depths of Heinsenberg's lab, upon doing research the two of you suffer the effects of it.

"A FUCKING WHAT?!" Karl shouts, towering over you.

"And you didn't think to- I don't know- block off the fuckin' area?" He growls, glaring down at you.

"A spore known as Cupiditas Spora, its effects manifest as lust. Once the fungus releases the spores, it takes at least an hour for its effects to begin."

"You and I are the only ones who are authorized for this level of the lab so I didn't think about it, sir."

"So how in Miranda's name do we remove the effects?"

"The effected individual or individuals usually, must participate in coitus."

"Can y'use simpler terms?"

"Well- for lack of term, they have to fuck." You mutter, playing with the edge of the coat you wear.

"You know I hate when you fuckin mumble." He groans, grabbing your jaw, tilting your face up to his.

"So speak the fuck up, and quit with your damn terminologies."

"Sex! The infected must fuck!" You shout, face flushed.

You could already feel the effects of the spore, heat pooling in your abdomen. Or maybe it was just the feeling of his hand on you.

"There ain't any other way?"

"No. Simply put, if the individuals don't have sex, they'll die. Now- I'm not sure how it will effect your- well the lycan DNA you possess thanks to Mother Miranda."

"Gods- don't mention her when you're talking about sex." Karl groans, releasing his hold on you.

"My apologies. Throughout this do I have your permission to document more information on the effects of the spore?"

"You really think you'll be lucid enough to do that?" He scoffs, looking you up and down.

Judging by his body language, he's begun to feel something.

"It wouldn't hurt to try to be." You shrug, removing your coat as your body temperature rises.

"Stripping already, pet?"

"Its hot in here, I suggest you do the same. Seeing as we'll be nude anyways." You say as you make your way to your desk, shedding your shirt as you sit down.

Hands immediately busying themselves with a pen, writing down how the spore is effecting you.

"You're enjoying this aren't you? Being your own little science experiment, dragging me into this. If you wanted to fuck me s'bad you coulda just said so." Heisenberg sits on the edge of your desk, hat, jacket, and glasses removed.

"I did not drag you into this. You came down here yourself- y'know if you listened more often you'd remember I told you that I had a possibly dangerous fungus down here." You grit out, your cunt throbbing.

You wanted to fight the effects as long as you could, not wanting to submit to the primal urges within. Wanting to document as much as you could.

"Shut your fuckin mouth, unless you wanna use it for somethin' more useful than bitchin' at me." He removes his oil covered gloves, setting them on your desk.

Hes so close you can smell the cigars he smokes on him. The oil and natural musk.

You grab hold of the collar of his shirt, pulling him down to your level. Eyes lidded as you smash your lips to his. You feel him grin against you, teeth, much sharper than they usually appear, nipping at your bottom lip.

Your curiosity gets the best of you, pulling away. You're in visible awe as you pull and touch at his mouth. Examining the sharp points of his canines.

He slaps your hands away, grabbing them in one of his larger ones. Holding them so you don't fuck with his face again.

"Next time you pull away to study me like some fuckin pooch, I'm putting some cuffs on you." He growls, grabbing a handful of you hair to keep your head still so he can kiss you again.

Your underwear was absolutely soaked, sticking to your crotch.

Despite the fact that the kiss was all teeth, it spurred you on further. Panting and moaning against him.

He suddenly pulls away, a glint of mischief behind his lust blown pupils and glazed over eyes. Before you can react, he's swiped everything off of your desk and made quick work of bending you over it.

"Bastard." You growl, pouting at the papers scattered on the lab floor.

"Hush now, pet."

He doesn't even bother with removing your pants or underwear, simply using a newfound claw to rip the crotch open.

"I just convinced Mother Miranda to allow me to wear those!"

Heisenberg grabs the base of your throat, snarling in your ear.

"What did I tell you about mentioning that bitch?"

You mutter out an apology, the cool air of the lab feeling heavenly on your heated skin.

"Hurry and get this over with so I can go back to- oh dear heavenly mo-"

Before you can finish your sentence, three of Karl's fingers lodge themselves into your mouth.

"Next time I'm cutting your tongue out." He remarks, pulling on the said muscle.

Its all bark and no bite, his other hand on your hip as he pushes further into your cunt.

"Fuck- how could you keep this from me." He moans, pulling out to slam right back in.

His hand leaves your mouth, grabbing at your breast.

"Shut up- cocky little-"

"Thats no way- shit- to talk to the man saving your life."

"Saving your own ass. Just- just fuck me!" You whine, it felt like your insides were boiling.

Karl rolls his eyes, snapping his hips. Those claws of his digging into the fat of your hips.

He could feel his thoughts melting into incomprehensible blurs of you.

"Going to fill this perfect cunt- defile it with my seed." He growls, its the most lucid thought he has.

You aren't much better, babbling and moaning, hands clawing at your desk. The only thing he can make out from you is his name.

Something swells at the base of his dick, piquing your interest. You can't speak, the thought dissipates as you feel the knot in your stomach tightening.

His hands claw at your sides, he's snarling as he leans down and bites your shoulder.

"Oh fuck!" You sob, thighs shaking as you reach your peak.

"Gonna flood that pussy." He growls as he pushes the swell of his knot into you.

And that he does, you shake and moan at the warm feeling.

"And you thought you'd be lucid enough to document." Karl chuckles breathlessly.

"Lycan cock." You mutter, panting against the desk.

"Good huh?"

"Think I need another example." You tease.

"Oh I can do that darling."

#re8 heisenberg #re8 #re8 fanfiction #re8 karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg #karl heisenburg x reader #minors dni #no minors

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kyberphilosopher · 3 years

Text

Lᴇx Tᴀʟɪᴏɴɪꜱ

Word Count: 3285

Warnings: graphic descriptions of gore, manga spoilers following the 4th line of stars.

An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, a life for a life.

"An eye for an eye" (Biblical Hebrew: עַ֚יִן תַּ֣חַת עַ֔יִן‎) or the law of retaliation (Latin: lex talionis) is the principle that a person who has injured another person is to be penalized to a similar degree by the injured party.

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

Gone. Your eye, was gone.

There was no warning, no time given for you to say your farewell. You didn’t have the time to even register what was about to happen. You had seen him, heard the bells and then...

Well, you must’ve known what the price for this was going to be to some degree. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have bothered, would you? So, there in lies the catch. All the feelings going through your brain right now are based on your own individual decision, and the only person responsible for the consequences of that decision is you.

“Come on, you have to eat, Y/N,” Historia practically sobs. She holds a spoon with a glop of banana colored mush on it, hoping to slip it in between your lips so you can just accept some kind of sustenance. But you don’t, and you won’t. You haven’t since the incident. “Please.”

You don’t say anything to the girl. You don’t even meet her eyes. You only stare at your own lap, giving her a nice view of your long, soft, sad eyelashes. The gauze wrapped around half of your head is threaded between pieces of your hair messily, and your shoulders have the hunch of that of defeat.

Historia closes her pink lips, and puts the spoon back in the wooden bowl. “You just eat whenever you’re ready, then,” she tells you softly, and she places it on the nightstand to your right. Although she is young and nurturing, she doesn’t dare push you. The petite girl closes the door behind her, wondering if it would’ve been better to shove the food down your throat.

It wouldn’t have mattered. You probably would’ve just stuck your own fingers down your esophagus as well, and then the banana mush never would’ve even reached your stomach.

It felt like you’d misplaced something very important. It feels like something is missing. Something you’d been tasked to protect since birth, and had formed a friendship with. And now it was gone, and you had failed both the friendship and yourself. Your left eye wasn’t something you could just grow back, either. Once it’s gone, it’s gone for good. And now it’s gone for good.

Your head lifts up slowly, and you’re allowed to catch a glimpse of yourself in the wooden mirror across the room. It doesn’t take long for the loathing to boil inside of you like venom.

The one good eye you have is rung with tired darkness. A maroon, chestnut brown shade of gray lingers right under your bottom lashes starkly. The same lashes are tiredly clumped together in a particularly unflattering way. The right half of your face feels ice cold, and the left magma hot. The bandages around your head have scrunched up pieces of your hair, and they rub against your cheeks tightly at any slight movement. It’s uncomfortable, to say the least. But the slightest thought of what these bandages cover makes you want to scream your throat bloody.

The moment you pull the gauze away is the moment you see the socket of your own eye, exposing it to infection and dirty air. You’ll see a hole, a stark reminder of the missing something that you’ll never be able to replace. You might as well have a hole in your ridiculous heart at this point.

And it was for what?

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

The bells rang every time you thought of him.

Sometimes they were loud, but usually they were soft. You hadn’t heard them since childhood, but you couldn’t place the exact context of them. You knew, at least, that they were made of bronze, but that didn’t help much at all. And now that had appeared in your head again, and they were fused to the man you’d taken a bullet for.

Historia and Hange seemed to be the only two who would visit you regularly. You’d see other comrades of yours in the next room when the door was open, but you had a preference for keeping it closed. Besides those two, you knew Armin and that Mikasa girl had been in your room as well. Sasha Blouse once came to take the food you hadn’t eaten. There was a vague memory of Connie Springer in your room, but you had been too preoccupied with hiding your face to receive a complete vision.

Nobody really saw you for days. You kept yourself buried in the scratchy blankets, ashamed of what you had done to yourself. You accepted no food. Questions began to arise of whether or not you were regularly bathing anymore. At least you were able to take yourself to the chamber pot when needed, but you refused to look at your reflection on any surface. Otherwise, you feared you’d hear the bells again.

Through everyone that had at least come to check on you once, he never had. You saw no signs of him at all around the area. You couldn’t feel his presence in your room at any single moment. At was almost as if the man had become a ghost, and maybe he had. Maybe this was another missing piece you’d have to live with, and maybe it was also bound in permanence.

You lost your eye, so that he could keep his life. And he hadn’t even thought to show up.

Not that you wanted to see him. If he had thought to show up, you hadn’t a clue what you would’ve said. You couldn’t explain your own actions, and you couldn’t ask him to avenge your loss. As you’d come to terms with before, this was all your doing. This was the consequence of your choice. Whatever consequences are born from that original consequence- well... that was on you too.

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

“Y/N, when was the last time you ate?” Historia frowns, her shoulders sinking with sympathy.

You stare at your lap still, with one good eye steady as it’ll ever be.

“It doesn’t matter,” you answer after a moment, voice low.

“What are you talking about?” the girl questions, the corners of her eyes pricking with tears. “Of course your health matters. You saved our lives out there.”

And there they are. The bells.

You’re a fool. You can’t do anything right, can you?

“I’m not hungry.”

“Please,” Historia practically wheezes. “For me. Just a bite.”

You still don’t move. You blink slowly, mesmerized by the dust particles you can see from the light of the setting sun, which streams through the glass of the windows behind you.

In a flat, firm, low tone, you tell her simply. “No.”

She inhales sharply, as if she was keeping herself from tears. And you’re not doing it to make her feel like she’s not a human, or someone you distrust. It’s because with the loss of your eye comes a deep, dark hatred for yourself that you didn’t know human beings could even possess. To put it simply, you didn’t think you deserved to eat.

Historia’s chair scoots against the floor. You see her movement out of the corner of your eye, and hear the old floorboards creak under what little weight she possesses. Then you feel even more hatred towards yourself for wasting her time and making her feel the same way that you had.

Well, you’re certain you don’t deserve to eat now.

There’s mumbling by the doorway.

“She told me she wouldn’t... Just seems really out of it lately... I tried to... Okay.”

Historia’s pretty little golden head disappears from your room and around the corner, out of sight. Instead, there is another figure in the doorway, facing you.

The bells come back.

“I heard you wouldn’t eat,” the smooth voice calls to you. You can hear his footsteps against the wood.

They’re getting loud.

“Did you not hear me? I’m talking to you.”

You lift your tired head up. Your right eye, pupil big with dilation as if you were high off pain, drowns out all other color. Your face is pale, half sweaty. You’re sick, inside and out.

Immediately, your mouth is forced open. Something hits the back of your throat roughly, and your teeth sink down from being stuffed.

Levi shoves the piece of bread further into your face. It scuffs against all corners of your maw, dry crumbs falling down to your stomach. Your taste buds explode with an overwhelming dusty flavor after having nothing for days. It almost burns. But despite the wet scoffs you give off from gagging against the material, the man doesn’t back down or away.

“Are you gonna eat it yourself? Or will I have to force this down your throat?” he questions- no- demands an answer from you. You’ve closed your eye from the contact, and it’s gone blurry from the abruptness of the situation. But you can picture your comrades face clear as day.

His gray eyes will be narrow as usual. His expression will be set in stone. He will not hesitate or falter to do as he has said, and he won’t feel bad about it either. You know this. And you’re right, too. The man is steady as ever, and if anyone was ordered to guess what he was thinking, they wouldn’t have a clue on how to read him.

No. You won’t eat. You can’t stop yourself from feeling sick at the very thought of rewarding yourself. Levi creases his eyebrows slightly, and his fingers press the piece of food farther down your esophagus. Now it’s hurting.

“I guess I will then,” Levi speaks out.

You don’t have a choice. Every time your gag reflex tries to push the bread away, Levi’s palm is there to keep it in place. It burns and hurts, and you wonder if bread like this has the ability to make your soft inner skin bleed. You concede.

Your teeth bite down fully, breaking off a fair portion of the roll. It makes your jaw sore from the weight of it, and Levi’s hand doesn’t move away. He watches your movements closely, making sure that you’re doing what you appear to be. He won’t take the chance.

After chewing for what must be a lengthy forty-five seconds, you hold the mushed pieces of dough on the back of your tongue. You can’t do it. You can’t make yourself eat.

“Swallow it,” Levi orders from above you, his voice cold and commanding.

You concede again.

The dough slips down in pieces, aided by saliva and awaited by your empty tummy.

Levi finally pulls the remaining half of bread away from your lips, but doesn’t change his position of standing over you. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?” he mutters as he places himself in Historia’s former seat.

Your good eye opens and looks over at him, still glossy from budding tears. You feel out of breath. Your nose has gone pink. God, he could’ve suffocated you right then and there.

Levi’s face is still and calm as always. His frown is ever present, and his dark hair falls the same. The only thing out of place is the fact that he stands out of uniform, in a white button up, cravat, dark vest and dress jacket. On another day, you would’ve thought it looked nice on him. Today, you have to try not to vomit all over it.

He reaches for a wooden bowl that Historia left on the nightstand earlier. It’s filled with that banana colored mush she keeps insisting you eat. When Levi takes it into his hands, his nose inhales a little whiff.

“Well, no wonder you won’t eat this,” he says, staring down into it. “It smells like shit.” Then, he takes the spoon from inside, and raises it into the air. “Open wide.”

No. There’s no way in hell.

The bells are loud as you turn your head the other way. You can’t bear the sight of him, or food.

“If you won’t take it,” Levi frowns angrily, “I’ll have no problem forcing it into you again.”

Who fucking cares, Levi? Just please, stop looking at me.

Your left hand reaches up to the bandages over what used to be your eye. You fit your palm over it in shame, as if that would keep him from noticing what had become of you.

“It’s been a week since this happened, and you haven’t talked about it to anybody,” you hear Levi say. “Hange says you’re not taking your medicine, either.”

Shut up. Shut up. Please, the bells are so loud.

Cold fingers against your own turn to warm ones. Levi’s digits pat your own off your face, and then around your ear to find where the bandage ends.

Your opposite hand reaches up to catch his wrist softly, asking him to stop without saying a word.

Levi pauses for a moment, watching you stare off into space with exhaustion. Then he shakes your hand away gently, and continues his movement.

His nails scrape against the end of the rope. Then he peels the bandage back, and it begins falling away from your head in a circle. Loop by loop, a layer of gauze strays away from your face. The anticipation of seeing what’s underneath is brewing inside of the man slowly, while the depression of knowing what’s to come has made you quiet as a stone.

Finally, the last layer lays against your skin. Once Levi’s fingers pull this away, you’ll be bare to him. He’ll be able to see what you lost, but never locate it. Just as you have.

Levi continues.

The gauze falls away at last, revealing what had been covered.

His eyes widen, both of them. You can’t say the same.

Where your left eye once was was now a hole. It had layers, and he could see the socket underneath all of them. But it’s ridged and dark, almost as if it were burned. Some parts of your eye are black, others deep purple. There are traces of smeared blood around the edges it all. And, quite frankly, it looks almost glossy with some type of ooze.

“Does it look bad?” you whisper finally, still staring off into nothingness.

Levi tenses up, staring into the void. In all honesty, it looks absolutely horrific. Even if it was properly cleaned and patched up, it would be disgusting. It must be one of the most gruesome things Levi has ever seen- and he’s seen plenty of gruesome things.

“When the bastard shot at you,” Levi begins with a calm voice, “did it hurt?”

Kenny Ackerman. The bastard.

You don’t say a single word for a full minute. “No,” you finally decide. “I didn’t feel a thing.”

Humanity’s strongest breathes out through his nose with stress, but it’s silent. “What possessed you to do this, then?”

You’re silent once more. You’d always been a little on the quieter side of things, for as long as Levi had known you. But this was different. This was sad, and still, and devoid of life. He considers just walking away with acceptance of knowing he won’t get anything out of you.

“I just thought,” your voice comes out hoarse, “it was either you or me.”

Dark pupils dilate, grey irises enlarge. “You took the shot for me.”

The eye on the right blinks slowly. “I didn’t want you to die.”

Levi goes completely still. His shoulders square and the muscles in his back tense. The inside of his mouth melts dry, and the only thing moving in the room are the specks of dust illuminated by the light.

“I see.”

He remembers it all so clearly. He saw the flash of Kenny’s gun, weighed his chances of living. A hand pushes his face up from his jaw and he’s shoved backwards. The nails of his assailant had cut into his skin, but his life had been spared in the process.

Instead of recounting this, Levi prompts, “What made you think that was a good idea?”

You don’t answer at all, which doesn’t surprise the stoic man. He’s not sure he would, either. But he wonders if it’s because you know the answer, or because you don’t.

“Why didn’t you come to visit me, Levi?”

A soft breeze races into the room. Strands of your hair glint and swirl softly. “I thought you would’ve been here sooner.”

The truth was that Levi just didn’t want to see you. But that was because he knew the answer to why. What possible explanation could the man have given you that justified your sacrifice? How would he have shown his appreciation, or annoyance, or simple thankfulness that you’d even survived?

Your long, slim fingers run against each other in short, little pats, almost like a child. “Is it because you hate me I wonder?” Then, your face looks up to the ceiling, exposing your throat to the air. “No. You can’t hear them, can you?”

“Hear what?” Levi knits his brows in question.

“You hear them so often at funerals,” you continue, ignoring Levi’s inquiry. “Or weddings. Or homecomings.”

Y/N is out of it, Levi decides. I’ll get nothing out of her.

“If I don’t bother asking, will you just eat?”

“...funerals...”

Levi picks up the bowl of shit scented banana mush, and runs the spoon through it. With a hefty pile in the dip, he lifts it up, and slips it in between your unaware lips. You don’t struggle, and you even chew and swallow. The corners of your mouth upturn softer than softly after Levi gives you two more bites. “Wouldn’t be so bad.”

Levi doesn’t have the heart to ask what you’re talking about. Though he suspects it might be the prospect of your own funeral, he says nothing. Your death isn’t something he’s keen on thinking about. Not with all the time he’s spent trusting in you, admiring in you. It’s painful to imagine a life without you present, or even beside him. But now you’ve forced the idea onto him because of your own selflessness. At this, Levi concludes that it should’ve been him who took the shot, not you.

“We can talk about what’s not so bad after you eat.”

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

Levi touches his palm to the bandage over his right eye. Gone. Gone for good.

Why do I have to think of her now? he asks himself, replaying the image of your ghastly missing piece over. Is this how she felt?

Like something’s missing? Questioning if the loss of something so valuable was worth it? You hadn’t questioned it for a second. If Levi had asked you if having your eye blown out for him was a fair price for his survival, you both knew what you would’ve answered in a heartbeat. Maybe he should’ve before you had died.

As the wagon bumps on the rickety dirt road, the soldier clenches the fingers he has left. His head drops back, and he looks up to the pale blue sky. Dark hair brushes against his nape, green cloak sticky with blood. Through the eye he can see out of, he makes out a cloud in the shape of you, and listens to the distant ringing of the bell.

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

I hope everyone who reads this is in bittersweet pain. Happy holiday season.

Also if anyone has any ideas on how to write Levi better please let me know. I think I captured his character okay, but I want to do him justice. pullup hoe.

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feralphoenix · 3 years

Text

SWEET DREAMS ARE MADE OF THIS: The Mechanics of the Infection

welcome back to feral’s essay tag where the hot takes don’t stop from keep being hot!

this particular meta has a Lot of citations from canon, and my plan is to have them as actual footnotes in the dreamwidth mirror when that goes up (as i always crosspost my meta there in case my layout text is too small for any folks accessing these from computer and not mobile).

CONTENT WARNING FOR TONIGHT’S PROGRAM: This essay contains discussion of body horror, cancer, and many of the darker aspects of Hallownest’s society.

ALSO, AS USUAL: I read Hollow Knight as anti-colonialist fiction and all of my meta approaches the text from that angle. This essay is strongly critical of the Pale King and Hallownest, and affords sympathy to pre-Hallownest societies & native characters, including Radiance. If you come from a Christian cultural background (regardless of whether you currently practice the religion or not), some of the concepts I am going to discuss may be challenging for you. Please be responsible in your choice whether to engage with this content, and also, be respectful here or wherever else you’re discussing this essay. Thanks.

SWEET DREAMS ARE MADE OF THIS: The Mechanics of the Infection

If you’ve ever looked through my Hollow Knight tags, you have probably seen me joke about the Infection like a lot, usually along the lines of Radiance casting Level 9 Inflict Tang on Hallownest, or “(radi voice) the End of EVA will continue until you Let My People Go” or some such. In addition to being some of the most beautiful body horror I’ve yet seen in fiction, its appearance also makes it a veritable meme factory.

It is also something that inspires a lot of very wild theorizing amongst fans, because canon tells us WHY the Infection exists but doesn’t ever directly explain WHAT it is. To name just a few of the guesses I’ve seen, people have posited that it could be some sort of pupa juice, or maybe some type of parasitic fungus.

I have my own guess, though, and it’s based on hints we can find in-game. I would like to share it with the class today, so let’s take a quick look through the sauce, starting with what we already know!

WHY

We learn why the Infection happened from Seer and Moss Prophet, and this is also summed up more directly in Team Cherry’s dev notes attached to Seer.

The Pale King wanted to be the only god of light in the crater,* so he tried to kill Radiance by thralling her children - attracting the moths with his light and making them forget about her,** assimilating them into Hallownest. Radiance survived because some moths still remembered and tried to preserve what they could of their original culture,*** and eventually she attempted to reassert her existence and communicate with the bugs of the crater by speaking to them through their dreams. However, the Pale King realized what was happening and ordered his worshippers to shut her out.****

Radiance did not give up, and continued to broadcast her message through dreams. This unstoppable force VS immovable object conflict could not last forever - something eventually had to give, and what gave was the mortals.***** The Infection was an accident that Radiance did not initially intend, but presumably chose to weaponize after the fact as a way to attempt to pressure TPK into releasing the moths and leaving her alone (or, barring that, a way to thoroughly destroy his kingdom at the very least).

SOURCES:

* “No blazing kin. Only one light shall shine against the dark.” - Lore tablet hidden beside the Pale King’s throne in the White Palace.

** “None of us can live forever, and so we ask those who survive to remember us. Hold something in your mind and it lives on with you, but forget it and you seal it away forever. That is the only death that matters.” - Seer’s 1200 Essence dialogue.

*** “But the memories of that ancient light still lingered, hush whispers of faith... Until all of Hallownest began to dream of that forgotten light.” - Seer’s 2400 Essence dialogue.

**** “The King and the bugs of hallownest resisted this memory/power and it started to manifest as the infection.” - from Team Cherry’s dev notes attached to Seer.

***** “Light is life, beaming, pure, brilliant. To stifle that light is to suppress nature. Nature suppressed distorts, plagues us.” - Moss Prophet's dialogue.

HOW

Now that we’ve recapped why the Infection exists, let’s examine the process of how the Infection works. We see some examples of this with various characters in-game, and the Hunter also shares his observations of the Infection’s mechanics in his commentary on the Infected Crossroads entries.

Since we’ll be bringing up the Hunter's Journal here, I want to first examine three entries to establish its dual authorship and how trustworthy it is: The Shade’s entry, the Lightseed’s, and Radiance’s.

We know that the bottom section of the Hunter’s Journal is the Hunter’s personal notes on each creature because the game itself tells us so. So who writes the notes on top that give a brief explanation of what each creature is? It’s a common fan theory that Ghost writes these, which I believe is indeed the case.

First let’s look at the Shade, which is automatically unlocked when we receive the Hunter's Journal in-game regardless of whether we have died and fought the Shade or not. Mechanically this is important because if the Shade weren’t unlocked by default it would be impossible to attain the Hunter achievements without dying at least once - this would REALLY suck for anybody who likes to suffer enough to try to complete the journal in Steel Soul mode.

The Shade’s entry reads:

Echo of a previous life. Defeat it to retake its power and become whole.

Each of us leaves an imprint of something when we die. A stain on the world. I don’t know how much longer this kingdom can bear the weight of so many past lives...

Notice that the top text knows exactly what the Shade is and how it works. In story terms, this would imply that Ghost has died and come back enough pre-game to understand the mechanics of how their revivals work.

The Lightseed’s entry reads:

A single-celled organism, completely infected. Scurries about simple-mindedly.

Strange air has been seeping down from above for years. Some of the air became liquid, and some of that liquid became flesh, and some of that flesh came to life. I don’t know what to make of it.

In this entry, the top text assumes that Lightseeds are a Lifeseed-like creature that has been infected, and the Hunter’s notes reveal that this is incorrect and the Lightseeds were actually born from the Infection itself. From this we learn that the top text isn’t omniscient and can be mistaken: It’s written from a limited perspective.

And here’s Radi’s entry:

The light,* forgotten.

The plague, the infection, the madness that haunts the corpses of Hallownest... the light that screams out from the eyes of this dead Kingdom. What is the source? I suppose mere mortals like myself will never understand.

Here, the top text has information that the Hunter doesn’t, and which only a handful of bugs are privy to anymore.

From these three examples, I believe it is safe to say that Ghost is in fact the author of the journal entries’ top segments.

It’s important to remember that the observations these characters make can be not wholly correct, and I’ll bring that up when I believe it to be relevant, but for now let’s build a picture of how a case of the Infection generally progresses by looking at the Hunter’s commentary on Infected Crossroads enemies, and at a handful of characters whose Infection we directly observe: Bretta, Sly, Myla, and Moss Prophet.

The Hunter describes the broad arc of Infection progression in the Violent Husk's entry: “First [the bugs of Hallownest] fell into deep slumber, then they awoke with broken minds, and then their bodies started to deform...”

The two NPCs who we can save from becoming Infected, Bretta and Sly, are initially found emitting orange fog and mumbling to themselves. In Bretta’s case, when listened to, she initially talks about being left behind and forgotten** as she assumes that all people will treat her this way even though she craves affection and attention; Dream Nailed either before or after being listened to, she mentions a “shining figure”.***

Meanwhile, Sly speaks about his pupil Oro and someone named Esmy, and when his symptoms subside he identifies that he was led to the Crossroads village ruins by a dream.****

Listening to Bretta and Sly completely brings them back to reality, after which they leave the underground area entirely to return to Dirtmouth. However, when the player encounters Myla after defeating Soul Master and obtaining Descending Dive, listening to her does not cause any change in her condition despite that she is not yet hostile.

During these encounters, Bretta is surrounded by orange fog, Sly is surrounded by orange fog and his eyes have also begun to turn orange, and Myla's eyes are glowing but there is no fog around her. So, we can deduce that for as long as the orange fog is present, a bug may still be awoken and cured (Bretta and Sly both show no signs of relapse over the course of the game), but once the fog disappears the bug can no longer be saved by external means.

The "deformation" that the Hunter mentions in the Violent Husk entry refers to the large blobs of Infection that develop on the bodies of creatures that have been infected for a long period of time. We observe these upon the Infected Crossroads enemies, as well as on Hollow and the Moss Prophet. We also see that these Infection tumors can eventually kill bugs once they grow too large and impede bodily functions, just like real cancer: The Moss Prophet and Mossy Vagabonds are all discovered in this state after the Crossroads become infected, as are the Husk Guards in the Crossroads.

So, the progression we can see here is that bugs become infected through their dreams, and while they can initially be woken, if left alone they will fall into too deep a sleep to wake up. Some time after this they will start to move around again but will be hostile to any creatures that are not infected. And, if left in this state for a very long period of time, they will develop tumorous growths which are potentially fatal.

Potentially fatal. This is an interesting contradiction to a basic assumption that most players - and even Ghost and the Hunter - seem to hold about the Infection: That is, that the Infection functions like a pop-culture zombie plague, and infected creatures are all undead (reanimated dead things that can't be killed); thus that the enemies that respawn after resting or going offscreen are the same ones that Ghost just murdered, and have simply been reanimated by the Infection once again.

But infected creatures can die of the Infection. What’s more, bosses and unique instances of generic enemies (such as Myla and the Moss Knight at the pier of Unn’s lake) do not respawn once killed. And it’s definitely not that Ghost killed them that counts: Traitor Lord dies whether Ghost fights him solo or whether Cloth is brought along, in which case she always gets the final blow. This creates the argument that the respawning generics are NOT in fact the same individuals reanimated over and over, but different individuals of the same enemy class, and that their different respawn rates speak to how plentiful those creatures are - small animals respawning faster because a new one will arrive in the recently killed one’s territory sooner, for instance.

Ghost and the Hunter both seem to assume that infected enemies are all undead - many creatures are identified as “husks” or “the remains of [whatever specific bug]” in the Hunter's Journal. But we’ve already established that sometimes Ghost and the Hunter are wrong.

So, if infected creatures aren’t undead, then what are they?

SOURCES:

* I find it a very interesting tidbit of characterization for Ghost that they refer to Radiance as the Light, as native bugs do, rather than calling her the Old Light, as Hallownest bugs did. This has some fascinating implications for where Ghost feels their allegiances to be, but that's neither here nor there right now lol.

** “Ohhh... please... don’t leave me behind! You... forgot about me...? I knew you would... everyone always forgets about me...” - Bretta’s dialogue, Fungal Wastes encounter

*** “...Shining figure...So bright...” - Bretta’s Dream Nail dialogue, Fungal Wastes encounter

**** “...ugghh, Oro you oaf.... You wield your nail... like a club... ...Esmy... how much deeper do we have to go... Oh! What?! Who are you?! ...I see. This old village. What a strange dream, to have led me down here! If you hadn’t found me, I don’t think I would’ve ever woken.” - Sly’s dialogue, Crossroads village encounter

WHAT

In a move very on-brand for Hollow Knight, there’s actually a line from Seer that gives the whole game away - and I mean this incredibly literally, she declares her loyalty to Radiance and says Fuck Hallownest and also hints at what she hopes for from Ghost all in two breaths!! - except that most players are never going to see this line because Seer only says this if you screw up platforming in the Forgotten Dream and yeet yourself off a platform before picking up the Dream Nail.

I do not doubt that I could wring a whole essay out of this one line by itself (and Seer deserves an essay from me so maybe I will), but today the part we’re concerned with is the third line of this dialogue, i.e. how she describes the Dream Nail to Ghost: “The power to wake this world from its slumber[.]”

Its slumber.

The Infection doesn’t only spread through dreams. It is a dream.

To put it in a more meta/video game mechanics sort of way, the Infection is a status ailment. Sleep exists as a common status ailment in RPGs, strategy games, and even some adventure games and platformers. Usually the status ailment of sleep is a mild nuisance that wears off after time, when a character is struck, or if the requisite curative is used; in comparison the Infection is Sleep But Bass Boosted. Appropriate, for a glorified status ailment that’s inflicted by the literal actual god of dreams.

The Infection can only be cured in the very early stages. Once an infected creature has fallen into a coma, there’s no longer any hope of a third party breaking the curse... and also, infected creatures sleepwalk. Violently.

This may also provide an explanation for why mummified bugs in the catacombs have been infected, too: If they were freshly dead and their lingering spirit was still attached enough to their corpses, and that lingering spirit retained enough of a mind to dream...

Aside from those mummified bugs, though, I believe it likely that most if not all of the infected enemies in-game are very, very much alive.

Beyond all the dialogue and lore crumbs pointing to the Infection simply being a cursed sleep, this explanation makes the most sense when thinking about Radiance as a character. She is the literal embodiment of dreams as well as the sun, so inflicting eternal slumber with bonus malignant sleepwalking is a natural extension of her power and a way to use it offensively without being directly violent.

(I've written about this at length elsewhere, but signs point to Radiance having been a pacifist prior to the Pale King’s invasion. Short version: The Moth Tribe were pacifists and Radiance was the center of their culture so it would be odd if she were an exception; she is incapable of inflicting any physical harm whatsoever in a game where lack of contact damage from an active enemy indicates helplessness and such enemies always flee from Ghost unless they have a tool they can use to fight with; her behavior in her boss battles indicates a lack of combat experience, and her nail-generating spells seem to be based on Hollow’s abilities. Real-life adult moths cannot fight - they defend themselves with flight, camouflage, mimicry, and I’m Poisonous So Fuck Off coloring.)

Now, I don’t want to downplay the harm the Infection causes - it doesn’t have to turn bugs into literal undead zombies to be devastating. What we can glean of Hallownest’s ruins suggests that as a state it was heavily dependent on labor to run its industry, so incapacitating the laborers would have turned the whole country on its head, especially because those laborers cannot be woken. The Infection also created an intense atmosphere of terror throughout Hallownest as bugs tried to discover ways to cure it or at least protect themselves. And as the Hunter observes,* because of how the Infection is caused, the harder you try to block Radiance out, the worse the Infection will get.

(A sidebar: Interestingly, the Infection's progress seems to be very slow when a creature willingly accepts it; Moss Prophet has Infection tumors when met but doesn’t die of them until the Crossroads is infected, though many Crossroads bugs are found dead of tumors immediately. Traitor Lord and his followers opted in to the Infection long ago, but Traitor Lord is still at the “orange fog” stage and could theoretically be cured, if he wanted to be. Both Traitor Lord and Moss Prophet are still completely lucid, too.)

Radiance may not have committed any direct violence against Hallownest, but the Infection does incite violence: infected creatures become hostile to and will attack the uninfected. And as we’ve discussed, the Infection itself can become fatal once it’s progressed far enough for tumorous growths to form.

A god smiting the shit out of her people’s oppressors by nonviolently but thoroughly disrupting their kingdom, Especially if that kingdom is a genocidal colonialist slave state,** as a Let My People Go And Leave Me Alone :) ultimatum is not unreasonable. (And Moss Prophet tells us point-blank that literally just listening to Radiance in the first place would have prevented the Infection before it began!) But despite that Hallownest as an institution is unambiguously awful, Hallownest bugs victimized by their own state (such as the maggot slaves and other menial workers) probably saw much less benefit from Hallownest’s genocides than the rich and nobility, and likely deserved the smiting way less than said rich and nobility.

Meanwhile Hallownest’s neighbors - all native nations who are just as much victims of TPK’s bullshit as the Moth Tribe - did not deserve to get caught up in the smiting at all.

Lateral harm in Hollow Knight is another topic that deserves its own essay - and more than that, lots of in-depth conversation! - but, again, that’s not the topic we want to focus on today. I do want to make it clear, though, that infected creatures being alive and theoretically wakeable if the curse should end doesn’t suddenly mean the Infection was actually no big deal. If you want your jimmies rustled, try Dream Nailing enemies that pull from the generic Dream Nail dialogue pool: They are on some level aware that they’re dreaming and can’t wake.***

Clues that the Infection is literally a dream are littered all over the game, from Elderbug’s initial dialogue**** to the name of ending 3, Dream No More - not only named that because that’s the ending where Ghost sacrifices Radiance’s life as well as their own to end Hollow’s suffering rather than only sacrificing their freedom.

Some of what Bardoon and Moss Prophet have to say about the Infection is suggestive of the nature of this dream, though. Moss Prophet appeals to their audience to find unity through the Infection,***** and Bardoon also remarks on this, though he cautions that this comes at the cost of being reduced to instinct.****** Dreaming does tend to come hand in hand with lack of inhibition and suggestibility, but I’m more interested in what Moss Prophet and Bardoon mean by unity, since infected creatures’ thoughts are different depending on what they are and what they were already doing while awake.

There's less specific hard evidence for this aside from how we can observe that Infection blobs are connected to Radiance, transmitting her heartbeat and birthing the Lightseeds, her unintended creations. But given that those blobs do originate from Infection fluid according to the Hunter... Radiance is not just the embodiment of dreams but the heart of THE Dream. So could the Infection be a forcible pseudo-immersion into that capital-D Dream, the Dream Realm itself?

Whether my hunch here is right or not, I can’t in good faith end this essay without bringing all y’all’s attention to absolutely my favorite bit of The Infection Is A Dream foreshadowing: The way multiple parties mention the fact that the Infection smells and tastes sweet.*******

You know... it’s sweet... it’s a sweet dream... get it.........

And now that you can no longer unsee that brilliantly awful pun, I think I'll see myself out!

SOURCES:

* “The infection that swept through Hallownest so long ago... they say that the harder you struggled against it, the more it consumed you.” - Hunter’s commentary, Slobbering Husk Hunter’s Journal entry.

** I’m referring, of course, to the maggots. See: “Weakest members of the kingdom of Hallownest. Generally looked down upon and forced to do menial labour.” (Ghost’s commentary) and “If they try to bargain for their life, just ignore them. They have nothing to offer.” (Hunter’s commentary) from the Maggot Hunter's Journal entry as well as False Knight/Failed Champion’s backstory. Remember also that maggots are the larval form of flies like Sly (you’ll see the resemblance if you compare Sly’s features to the maggot siblings’), meaning Hallownest employs child slavery. In more cheerful news Sly’s backstory must be absolutely goddamn wild.

*** “I’m not...Dead..” “Am I...Sleeping?” “I can’t....Wake up...” - Dream Nail dialogue from generic Hallownest bugs (Wandering Husk, Leaping Husk, Horned Husk, Husk Bully, Husk Warrior) and from God Tamer for some reason

**** “Perhaps dreams aren't such great things after all...” - Elderbug’s initial dialogue

***** “Embrace light! Achieve union!” - Moss Prophet’s dialogue

****** “Theirs is a different kind of unity. Rejection of the Wyrm’s attempt at order. I resist the light’s allure. Union it may offer, but also a mind bereft of thought... To instinct alone a bug is reduced...Hrrm...” - Bardoon’s dialogue (Listen four times, not counting other dialogue flags)

******* “A thick orange mist fills these walking corpses. It has a sweet, sickly taste to it. I find it foul. After you kill these creatures, I suggest you do not eat them.” - Hunter’s commentary, Husk Bully Hunter’s Journal entry, just for one example.

#hollow knight #hollow knight spoilers #hollow knight meta #long post under cut -#essay

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quothethemenevermore · 3 years

Text

Here's that part two! Not nearly as fluffy as I had intended, but not as angsty either.

"Here we are." The duo stood outside a door on the third floor of an apartment building. Thankfully, it was late enough that nobody saw them trudge up the stairs, because how could Gordon even begin to explain any of this? Plus, a human wearing huge, bulky armor covered in blood and a very non-human looking security guard equally covered in blood was likely to get the cops called on them.

There was a note taped to the door, and he happened to be faster than his alien companion in grabbing it.

He read it over before closing it and opening the door. "What did it say?"

"Just my ex, they came to grab some stuff for Joshie and left the door unlocked. Thank God for that, I'm pretty sure my keys were in my car."

"Joshie- your kid?" "Yea, my kid. The one you said looked like shit." It was said in a joking manner as the two walked through the apartment.

It was pretty decently sized, with the door leading to a large living room, the kitchen to the left blocked off only by an island that surrounded the entire side of it. At the end of the island was a small area that connected to the hallway, and in that area sat a table and some chairs, set up to be a dining room.

There were a few pictures set up around the area, on the island bookshelves. Walking through, they could see the child in the frames, steadily aging up to a toddler as the pictures continued.

Down the hall, Benrey could see a few doors. One of them was open, pale blue light shining into the dark hallway.

"So when do I get to meet him?" Gordon froze for a moment, before breaking off into laughter. "You actually wanna meet him? Thought you didn't like kids." "Yea, wanna meet the lil feetman."

"Don't call my kid that." He groaned, stopping at the open door to pull it closed before going to the next one in the hall. As Benrey passed the door, they saw a sign on it.

In messily drawn letters, the sign read 'Joshua's room'. More light flooded the hallway as Gordon flicked the light on in the room he entered, and Benrey quickly went to catch up.

The two were now in a small bathroom, and the brunette was looking at himself in the mirror.

With a grin, Benrey leaned over to look at him in the mirror too. "Looking a bit shit yourself." "You're one to talk." He gestured to them in the mirror, which now grinned even bigger. "The reflection of perfection!" The human doubled over in laughter, holding onto the vanity as he tried to pull himself together.

Finally, he pulled himself upright and looked in the mirror again, grimacing as he looked at his reflection.

"I gotta get this suit off."

"Need some help?" They flexed their fingers, allowing their nails to sharpen into claws.

Gordon thought about it for a moment, before nodding. "Yea, if you don't mind."

~~~

Piece by piece, they managed to pry each part of the suit away from the others, using both Benrey's claws and the crowbar that Gordon thankfully still had. It was slow going, but it was worth it as his body started relaxing with each piece removed. Finally, the last piece, one of the upper arm guards, was pulled off and tossed in the trash and with the other pieces of armor, which only left the black bodysuit. There seemed to be a moment's hesitation from the brunette, before he peeled the bodysuit away, leaving him in an undershirt and a pair of shorts. Unfortunately, they weren't in the best shape, though that was to be expected after a week of being stuck under a bodysuit and heavy armor that took quite a bit of damage.

Gordon looked at the ruined undershirt with a grimace, pulling it over his head and promptly throwing it in the trash with the other pieces of the armor.

Benrey had just opened their mouth to tease him about stripping in front of them, but as their eyes wandered over his torso, it promptly shut.

Was it rude to stare? Probably, but they couldn't help it. Their eyes lingered on every discolored part of Gordon’s skin, from the rashes at his joints to the bruises and small cuts littering his arms and torso, to the pale ring surrounding his right arm at the elbow.

They helped cause those wounds, their mind reminded them. It was a miracle the human even let them in his house after that.

But the two were on better terms now, right? But what if the scientist was just being nice out of courtesy?

They frowned, mind drifting as their eyes remained latched on his wounds.

Luckily, Gordon wasn't paying too much attention to the alien, too caught up in the relief on his spine from the heavy suit being removed. He raised his arms up, arching his back as much as he could, the tension practically oozing out of him with every pop of his bones cracking. His wrists and elbows were a little sore, and he didn't want to think about the numbness of his right arm, so he tuned out the discomfort to look at Benrey.

Benrey, who had their gaze completely focused on him. Who hadn't even made a joke about him taking off his shirt in front of them- which, now thinking on it, caused heat to rise to his face.

"Benrey." They startled slightly, pupils shrinking again as they looked up. "Whuh?" "You good?" "Are you good? Got all those cuts on you."

"Now that that suit's off? Don't think I can be any better. Just need a shower and sleep."

"Gotta heal those." The alien mumbled. "What?" "Gotta heal those. Gonna get infected."

"I mean, I think they'll be fine if I just wash them off-" "Can heal them for you."

"Well…" he trailed off, but upon not finding a reason to decline, gave in. "I guess, just let me shower first."

"Kay." They took a seat on the bathroom vanity, waiting. Gordon also stared at them, expecting something. Did they miss something..? "Wha?"

"Can you leave? Like, wait in the living room or something? I'm not gonna take a shower while you watch, man."

"Oh. Yea." He waited until they left, shutting and locking the door behind them. Not that it mattered, they likely could still no-clip through the door, but it made him feel better. Turning on the water, he found his thoughts drifting back to the alien. They seemed kind of off, quiet and acting almost.. guilty?

That was a can of worms he could get into after his shower.

The hot water stung as it hit the cuts, but he wouldn't deny that it felt nice on his aching body. A week in that heavy, cold suit had him practically in heaven as steam curled around the curtain and filled the small room.

It was a longer shower than usual, having to rinse a week's worth of blood, grime and sweat away, not to mention how tangled and matted his hair was..

It took longer for his fingers to move on his right hand, the entire arm still feeling numb and wrong..ish to him, and that didn't really help speed anything up, but he worked with it. Turning the water off, he stepped out and dried off as quickly as he could.

Right, he had a guest over right now. They'd probably like a shower too. Which led to his next problem: he hadn't grabbed any clothes beforehand. With a frown, he picked up his glasses- how they had not broken during that week of nothing but injuries and fighting, he didn't know- off the counter and wiped the steam from them with the towel.

Then he cracked the bathroom door open.

"Benrey?" "Yooo!" That sounded like it came from the living room. So his options were to go grab his own clothes, or let them grab him some. Either way, he was likely to get heckled, but at least if they grabbed his clothes they won't get a chance to make up for the lack of comment before. "I forgot to grab some clothes. Can you grab some for me?"

"Lil forgetful boy, aren't ya?" Before he could even process what had been said, it was followed quickly with, "Where's your room at?" "Furthest down the hall. I think there's some pajamas in the dresser."

"Kay. Be are be." And then the footsteps were outside the bathroom door, going down the hallway. Gordon bit back a laugh at their words. "Dude, just say 'be right back'!"

The reply was muffled, but he was pretty sure it was his companion mocking him in that childlike way they loved doing. Rolling his eyes, he leaned against the vanity and waited.

Not long after, there was a knock. "Got some clothes, hot and ready."

"How would they be hot if they were in my dresser?" "Just are. Get them while they're hot, no good when they're cold."

"Okay, just hand them through the door." He chuckled, reaching for the handle to open the door a little bit more.

"Nah, gonna try something else. Hang on."

"Benrey, what are you-" his face was suddenly obstructed by fabric- flannel, his mind quickly picked up on as the clothes fell into his hands.

His flannel pajama pants and a sweater, likely his MIT one. That wasn't the main thing on his mind, though. "Did you just- did these come through the door!?" "Yea. Pretty cool right?"

"How in the fuck- You know what? I don't need to know."

A small laugh answered him. "Come to the living room when you're done for this hp regen." "I- okay, I'll be out in a minute."

~~~

"Okay, how are you wanting to do this-"

He stopped short at the doorway to the living room, taking in the scene before him with unbidden shock.

Benrey had sized up again, pushing his furniture to the walls so that they could lay comfortably in the middle of the floor. They also looked cleaner than they had before, did they find a different place to shower, or somehow no-clip the grime away? Their eyes flicked over to him as they heard him come in, and they offered a grin.

All Gordon could think about was how they were close to the height they were at when they pulled that blank voice stunt on him.

"All dressed up now?" "Benrey, why are you.. big?"

"To heal you? Did you forget already?"

"And.. Why do you need to be big to heal me? Thought you had sweet voice to do that?"

"Yea but you got a lot of injuries, be easier to put you in a pouch to soak in."

Oh, so they want to eat him again.

He didn't do a good job of hiding his reluctance to the idea, because Benrey quickly tacked on, "but we can do it the old fashioned way too, just takes longer."

… fuck it. He's gone through it before, and survived last time too. If they were gonna kill him, he has a good feeling that they would have done it already. And maybe it wouldn't be too bad, if they didn't ignore him like they did last time.

"I.. I guess we could try it. You gotta let me out if I say I want out, though. Okay?"

They nodded the best they could while looking at him upside down. They carefully flipped over onto their stomach and lifted themselves up to sit on their knees, shoulders hunched against the ceiling.

"Ready?" They waited for him to approach, rather than reach out for him. Anything to help keep him calm.

When he finally swallowed his nerves and came close, they wrapped their hands around him.

He wasn't shaking this time. A little tense, but he wasn't struggling or screaming.

He did have his eyes closed, his own way to try and keep his panic down. He kept telling himself he would be fine, waiting for them to begin.

Because he closed his eyes, he didn't see the entity holding him frown.

He's hiding, he's scared!

If he was scared, he wouldn't let us do this!

He's just putting on a brave face.

If he didn't trust us, he would have kicked us out already.

Their thoughts waged a full on war in their head, so they tried to quiet them by leaning forward and taking his head into their jaws.

For Gordon’s part, he didn't flinch.

The warmth that surrounded him as he was pulled deeper in made him relax more, going limp in their hands. Was he still nervous? Sure, but honestly, what could he have done to stop them if he didn't want to do this anyway? Plus, he was given a choice.

He chose this.

And hopefully, he wouldn't be ignored like last time.

He jolted forward as a swallow brought his head into their throat, and suddenly his hands were figiting. He wasn't scared, but he couldn't fight the growing panic. One of their hands shifted, and now he had something to hold on to. They were offering a hand for him.

They weren't ignoring him.

He clung to their fingers as he tried to slow his heart, (a little difficult without being able to breath properly) finally managing to stop the figiting. He relaxed against their hold again, and only then did they continue.

The rest of the trip down was spent in a similar manner, though it was getting easier for him to calm down. Nothing was going wrong, Benrey was still paying attention to him and making sure he was okay to continue, and that helped calm him down a lot more than he thought it would.

Even when his hands slipped out of reach for their own, he didn't start figiting in their grip again.

The sounds around him also helped fight off any more panic that tried to flood in. His head had passed by their heart a little bit ago, but it was still as loud as last time.

He even had the same thought as last time; He thought of the stuffed bear with the heartbeat box that he used to sleep with.

At least this time it didn't stir a sense of dread in him.

He completely stilled in their hands, but it didn't stop the warring thoughts in their head. As they continued swallowing him, all they could think about was the conflict of him being so limp.

Did he really trust them? Or did he just give up? There was nothing they could do until they got him to their pouch (and healed him like they said they would), so their movements only quickened as they tried to fight the sense of dread filling them at the thought of their human still not trusting them.

It had only taken minutes, but to the alien, it felt like hours. And it felt like it was only taking longer as they filled the chamber with teal-green sweet voice. Impatiently, they waited as they sensed the wounds on Gordon close up and heal over. None of them should leave scarring, except submerging his arm would likely cause a slight turquoise tint to the scar..

Not that Benrey really cared about that. He was going to be healed, and that was what counted.

Still, did healing always take this long?

Now they were the ones figiting, as they felt the brunette shift slightly to get comfortable and then relax within. While they continued waiting, their focus remained completely on the scientist, feeling him getting closer to falling asleep.

When they sensed the healing process finishing, they switched the healing voice to the blank voice, hoping that he was too tired to notice.

The pouch was exactly how he remembered it being, from the memory through his panicked haze. Dark, warm, yet glowing slightly in time to their breathing. The glow was teal green this time around, and the smell of melon filled the air. As the slime touched his skin, he could feel a cooling sensation on the cuts and rashes, feeling the slight pain fade. It only served to relax him more.

Benrey told the truth. They healed him, albeit in a different method than expected. But hey, he agreed to it.

It was getting harder to fight the urge to sleep, the cooling touch of the teal slime fading as the wounds fully healed up, returning to the comfortable warmth from before.

As Gordon began to doze off, the colors suddenly shifted around him. Blinking tiredly, he forced himself to focus long enough to see the teal-green disappear from the slime coating him, fading into a transparent white. He couldn't help but be confused.

Why did it change colors?

Outside, Benrey waited anxiously to see the colors that came through. The wait was starting to worry them, tapping their fingers on their arm. They would have tapped on the floor, but they remembered Gordon lived in an apartment and they couldn't afford to have someone try to figure out what the tapping was.

Confusion was the first to come through, which made the alien realize that the human wasn't actually asleep. Whoops.

"Benrey? What's going on?" "Nothing, 's fine." "Why did it change colors?"

The transparent white had shifted to a bluish-purple, a color that Gordon saw on his arm not too long before he was healed.

So the color of a bruise, and he was confused..

Well, there's the rhyme right there. It suddenly clicked to the brunette that the white color was the same as the blank voice, the one that Benrey submerged him in before to read his emotions.

"Are you trying to read my emotions again?"

There's recognition.

"Maybe."

"..Why?"

"Why not? Gotta make sure my bro's not upset or something." "I'm pretty sure you'd be able to tell if I'm upset, Benrey." He shifted, leaning back against the walls. "Maybe. Or maybe not. Maybe you're hiding your emotions, not telling your friend how you feel about them."

...what?

"What do you mean? What could I be hiding?"

"Could hide being scared, or, uh.. still angry with me. And acting nice because you think you have to." They were starting to ramble, realizing too late that they were admitting to what they had wanted to hide from the human.

Oh god, what if knowing that makes him upset? What if he tries to kick them out? What if he gets scared of them again?

They didn't want to upset the fragile balance they had had with him, but now it seemed like they'd thrown that out the window with this stunt.

God, what could they do now to try and fix this?

Gordon was not dumb. The walls closing in around him and the whooshing sound he heard overhead getting faster, plus the colors fading and glowing faster, was all the indication he needed. "Benrey, hey, you've got to calm down. You're gonna start hyperventilating." He pressed a hand out into the wall closest to him, trying to ignore how tense it was, and started rubbing against it. It wasn't much, but maybe it would help calm them down…

And surprisingly, it did. The walls loosened, giving him back the space he had before, but their breathing was still choppy and quick. He frowned.

"Hey, can you try breathing with me? I'll count, okay?"

Breathing to the numbers had helped him quite a few times when he struggled to catch his breath following a panic attack, it helped ground him. He hoped it would do the same for them. "In, 2, 3, 4…"

With stuttery breaths, they followed his count.

After about fifteen times, their breathing had calmed down to a normal rate. Now that they weren't panicking, maybe he could get some answers.

"Hey, what happened?" They had been worried about him, he knew that much. Did they really believe that he was hiding his emotions from them, though? If he didn't trust the entity at this point, there's no way he would have even let them in his house. Could they not have picked up on that?

"I just- don't want you scared again."

His mind reeled, from the fact that Benrey said a sentence that wasn't full of gamer slang and the admittance itself.

They believed that he was still scared of them.

He took a moment, trying to think of a way to respond to that.

"Dude, if I didn't trust you I wouldn't have let you do this. Maybe we still aren't on the best of terms, but I'd like to think we're doing pretty good right now." He reached out, pressing against the wall in front of him again. A moment later, something pressed back. "Don't want to mess up again by not understanding. Don't want you to be scared of me."

"Well, I'm not. And I'm not hiding anything, either. You'd be able to tell if I was, I'm sure."

The nervousness that had lingered from before had vanished, leaving both of them relaxing to the other's touch. In fact, now that the situation had been cleared up, Benrey could see the actual feelings that they had wanted to see from the beginning.

Calm, peaceful, trust, happy..?

They blinked, mulling over those for a good minute.

He trusted them, felt happy with them. Even with this.. unorthodox situation they put him in to find that out.

He trusted them.

Before they could help it, a small purr started in their chest, closing their eyes and basking in their contentment.

Up until they felt a press from inside, and a question asked incredulously.

"Wait.. are you purring?"

"Maybe."

He laughed, the sound making the walls around him flash pink for a moment.

"You're a lot more like a cat than I thought."

"Catboy roommate, Benrey edition."

That got another good laugh out of the scientist, and in response they purred harder. Something that they had said caught his attention as he mulled over the sentence again, though.

"Wait, wait. Roommate?" The purring faltered, growing softer as they replied.

"Well, uh, up to you. I mean, don't gotta say yes." "No, that's fine, I just.. don't really have a spare room."

"'S fine, stay on the couch." "No!" He smacked the wall closest to him, earning a whine. "I'm not gonna make you stay on the couch. I'll figure something out." After that statement, a yawn escaped him. The purring wasn't helping him stay awake, and now that everything had been settled between the two, his exhaustion came back full force.

"Tomorrow?" "Yea, tomorrow. After I finally get some fucking sleep." He shifted, laying back against the walls, which closed around him in response.

"Stay inside please?" "Inside? Like, stay here?" "Yea, please?"

He.. kinda assumed he was gonna stay anyway. Hell, it was pretty comfy in here. "I.. that's fine, I can stay. You gotta let me out in the morning though, okay?" "Can do."

His surroundings moved as his host settled down, finally settling as they got comfortable. (Gordon would not think about how they had settled on the floor, knowing damn well how uncomfortable it was. He would have offered his bed if Benrey was not the size they were.)

"Night, Benrey." He said as he settled down himself, sleep taking him quickly. He almost missed the "night, Gordos," as his eyes closed.

#hlvoreai #Soft vore #Safe vore #G/t vore #Non fatal vore

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monst · 4 years

Text

Warnings again: Graphic descriptions of murder, Dubcon, Incest, Pre-meditated murder, Gore

Inspired by: Halloween, Micheal Myers and this post -> Here (The little brother bit of it)

This story can be read either entirely or you can skip, the middle background, you won’t really be missing the juicy bits since it just describes the early stages of his...infatuation

Enjoy!

Silence reigned over the living room save for the desperate wheezes of the dual toned man’s hair. The air hissed as it slipped into his greedy mouth, the heavy sound of his pants were followed by the almost painful expansion of his lungs. He wiped a gloved hand over his brow collecting the droplets that had accumulated throughout the ordeal.

His stormy eyes looked down at his hand, he saw his soiled reflection on the metallic steel. His pupils danced in dilation, his nostrils still flared. His blood was hot, scorching his veins as with every pound of his heart. He let the blade fall to the stained rug, fingers trembling with nerves? Adrenalin? Excitement?

It started with the curving of his lips, then a breathless chuckle until he was keeling over with laughter, tears in his eyes as his foot connected with the soft tissue of the body. He repeated the action kicking the belly of his victim, further soiling his shoes. The beige rug was stained a nauseating maroon, said color also decorated the sofa and he could feel the once warm liquid cool on his face.

A mess of blood and viscera was left in the place where the man had once cowered. He leered over the man’s body, a grin stretching his pale pink lips. His tongue swept over his lips as he leaned down to the man’s ear to whisper secretively.

“I’ve been wanting to do this to you the moment I set my eyes on you.” He chirped. “You’ve never deserved her” his fingers slid over the shredded skin of the man’s face as he plucked the crimson stained mask off his face. He stood up and slid the bloodied scream mask over his face, his menacing form illuminated by the colorful strobe lights that still circled the room. He turned towards the staircase of the house, It was time to pay you a visit and give you the good news.

His heavy footfalls creaked the stairs as he made his way up closer to you, his stomach fluttered with emotion and his elation twitched beneath his trousers. ‘Finally’ He thought as the door to your room whined open. ‘Finally’

Now you may be wondering how it all came to this. How such an unassuming man could take someone’s life in such a cruel and violent way. To explain that, we need to go back, back in time to the exact moment in which warmth seeped into the man’s heart. The moment in which he decided that he’d do absolutely anything for his older sister.. And that happened when he was a boy and it was all because of the touch of a hand…

(Backstory is optional, you can easily skip ahead towards the morning of the event)

There was a clear disinterest in the young child’s eyes as his eyes observed the glossy casket. He could hear the whispers of the surrounding guests. The susurrations of ‘what’s going to happen to the children’ ‘The young one doesn’t seem to care about what happened.’ ‘Shush it’s not like he understands what’s going on’ There were more whispers being dropped than there were tears but Shouto disagreed, he understood very well. He just couldn’t find it in himself to care.

His eldest sister Fuyumi bawled enough for the rest of the Todoroki siblings. Call him cynical but Shouto didn’t understand why he should cry, why he didn’t give a rats ass that the old man had kicked the can. He supposed he should care about the casket next to his father’s embalmed corpse but he wasn’t exactly close to his snowy haired brother. In simple terms he wasn’t moved by the theatrics and wanted nothing more than to go home. A home without Enji Todoroki, he wondered what life would be like now that his father was dead. Easier? He pondered on all the freedom he’d finally have…..

Shouto truly didn’t understand… He loathed that vile man and yet his eyes were wet with tears, his small nose stuffing as he sniffled. He had balled his small fists, clutching the dark cloth of his dress shorts, his eldest sister Fuyumi had her face buried in her hands, her shoulders shaking. She couldn’t console herself, not to mention her yonder siblings. It was at that moment that he realized how alone he was, Fuyumi seemed leagues away, so out of reach.

His older brother was furthest away the veil of death separating whatever comfort he may have received from the teen. A cold chill filled his small frame until something came and banished it. Your fingers interlocked with his as you drew him close, he glued himself to the warmth you provided, his body shaking as you hugged him whispering consolations.

“I-It’s going to be okay Sho.” You sniffled. “W-we still have each other.”

Shouto clung to you ever since, you were two years his senior, his beloved older sister who was always there for him. Sure he had Fuyumi but she wasn’t you, she was someone he had a familial tie to, someone who provided for the both of you, to him Fuyumi was just the guardian. She wasn’t special to him like you were, there wasn’t that connection, there wasn’t that bond. And sadly it never developed as Fuyumi had to leave the both of you for long lengths of time.

You however adored Fuyumi, you were grateful for her sacrifice of becoming something

akin to a parent towards you and Shouto. In your younger years you scurried about to help her with whatever you could and more often than naught it was watching Shouto while she worked. Your little brother was an oddball, he had a habit of following you around and refused to make friends so as not to leave you. Despite countless arguments of it not being an issue he held fast and you relented and allowed him to shadow you freely.

In all honesty the signs were all there, the youngest Todoroki would become hysterical when he didn’t know of your whereabouts, he was frustratingly clingy and hostile towards all of your friends. You had lost many friends due to your younger brother’s jaws of doom. No one wanted to play with you when your brother laid in wait like a piranha. This led to further skirmishes but Fuyumi wasn’t adept at dealing with such issues and reassured you that it was just a phase. So you sucked it up, you didn’t want to worry Fuyumi and add to her stress. ‘It’s probably not easy for her to raise us, especially since she’s younger herself.’

And so life went on, your brother’s clinginess never waned but it was diminished when he finally entered highschool. Regardless of him wanting it or not people began to gravitate towards him. To him it was the most annoying thing in the universe. He hated playing nice with his schoolmate, what was even the point? He didn’t care for them, he didn’t love them, they served no purpose and only helped in separating him from you. But he played nice. He played nice for your sake, he was your dear sweet little brother after all and he wouldn’t allow those nuisances to taint your vision of him.

Everything was going swell, Fuyumi was prosering and getting more and more busy. To his delight she’d leave for days on end on business trips as well. His days would start with him greeting you in the morning and you blessing his cheek with an innocent ‘good morning’ kiss. You’d walk to school, sometimes you’d blow off your friends to eat lunch with him, it always made him feel special, and then you’d walk home. He always loved it when Fuyumi was gone and the both of you were alone. It was almost like the two of you were husband and wife. The thought never failed at leaving him breathless.

It wasn’t weird. He had rationalized that it was only natural to marry the one you loved. Besides you had agreed to it when you were younger. However, not everyone was accepting of the loving relationship he had with you.

“Ew you call your little brother baby?” He had overheard the conversation on his way to your class.

“So? He’s my baby brother so I call him baby, it’s not a big deal.” You shrugged.

“It is kinda icky (Name).” The voice that had said it was deep and masculine and he didn’t like how his words made you pause. You should have fought against it, you should have told them to fuck off.

“O-oh…” You mumbled. “I g-guess he is a bit grown.” He had made his presence known after that, his haughty eyes lacerating your classmate. The smug teen had an arm looped around your shoulder and from the look on your face you weren’t opposed to it.

That was a turning point in your relationship. To his dismay you began to date that...guy. That fucker drove a wedge between you. You changed because of him, and he hated it. He despised it so so very much. The day he realized that your boyfriend had to be done away with was when he came home one afternoon, you had insisted he join an extracurricular activity and that had put an end to walking home with you. And so when he came home and he heard you, he ran to his room and peeled back the movie poster in his room, his blue eye widening in horror as that disgusting, vile, grotesque creature defiled you.

The tree at the edge of the property took the brunt of his emotions that day. His fists were split as he abused the bark of the tree, his teeth grinded viciously. All of his fantasies of being your first were dashed, all those nights researching, all those nights observing your body from his peephole, in order to know what you liked “Wasted!” When he walked back in you were adjusting your clothes in the kitchen making the bastard a sandwich.

“S-shouto!” You yelped. You no longer called him baby. You were startled until you took notice of his bruised knuckles. “Are you okay!?” You fretted, reaching out towards him. He flinched away from you, hurt.

“Bah leave the kid alone and stop coddling him, it’s just a flesh wound.” The thing scoffed.

“But it could get infected.” You mumbled.

“Ughh shut up already, where’s my food?” He asked you… Yes, Shouto despised that man. In his mind he had gouged out his perverse eyes and peeled back his grimey skin. You had regressed into yourself ever since you had gotten together with that guy. He dedicated your every move, and to add fire to the ever growing flames he had the audacity to put his hands on you.

“Leave him.” He hissed one day.

“I...I can’t Sho..I love him.” Love? Love he had scoffed. That wasn’t love, god he’d show you what love actually was if you would only leave that man. ‘If only he just died.’ This thought gnawed at the back of his mind as years passed and you remained in such a toxic relationship. By now your...he refused to call him your lover, by now your abuser had died in his mind over a billion times.

Prior to the murder…

(Backstory skippers, it begins here)

It was one of those rare days when that nasty shadow wasn’t looming over you, the both of you were sipping coffee as Fuyumi explained that she would be going abroad. It wasn’t anything new as work for her got busiest during the fall.

“H-He asked me to move out with him.” You smiled.

“Absolutely not.” He scoffed.

“I have to agree with our little brother on this one (Name).” You had blown up on them, screaming about them not understanding, until you were left sobbing in your chair.

“H-He can change… I know he can.” Needless to say, he didn’t. As soon as he heard that Fuyumi was half-way across the globe he pressured you into throwing a party. Luckily for you Shouto didn’t have any classes to attend and was willing to help you arrange the hastily put together party.

“I still can’t believe you're with him.” He mumbled as he arranged the red solo cups on the table.

“Trust me Sho I’ve tried to end it but…” You looked away from the youngest Todoroki until you felt his hand slide into yours.

“Remember, I’ve always got your back if you need me to fuck him up for him to leave you alone I’ll do it.” He smiled, his heart skipped when your arms wrapped around his neck. ‘Soon’ he thought, his arms tightening around your frame.

“I really don’t deserve you Shouto thank you.” You sniffled.

“It’s-

“The fuck are you two doing?” ‘Great’ Shouto rolled his eyes, pressing his lean body closer to yours. ‘It’s here’ “You sure your not tryna fuck your brother you little slut.”

“Of course not.” You mumbled, your arms tightening around your younger brother’s frame, he felt your body tremble, fear and anger coursing through your veins. Ever so slowly you stepped out of the protective embrace of your brother. You didn’t notice how Shouto clenched his jaw when that man’s hand came down on your ass. You shifted away from him but his hand caught you by the crook of your elbow. “What? No kiss? Don’t tell me you're still mad about me cheating on you.” He scoffed.

You looked away, a scowl on your lips. “C’mon babe how ‘bout I make it up to you?” He grinned. You weren’t interested instead you turned towards your brother.

“Are you inviting anyone?” You asked. You caught yourself staring at your younger brother who now towered over you, his dark eyes narrowed at your boyfriend, strong arms crossed against his beefy chest. You made out the way his sharp jaw clenched and it had just struck you ‘He’s gotten so handsome.’ You looked away when you noticed how his eyes softened when he turned towards you.

“Didya buy the booze I asked for?” The other man cut in. You nodded, grateful that Shouto had ran out and bought it for you while you hid all the valuables in the house. He dropped onto the couch unceremoniously and began to message his friends.

“So are you?” You asked once more as the both of you continued to put certain breakable items away.

“Maybe.” He shrugged, he wasn’t particularly interested in inviting the people who called him their friend.

“You should invite that one girl that used to go to highschool with you.” You hummed. “I’m pretty sure she had a crush on you~”

“She did.” He sighed. “I just wasn’t interested, besides inviting her would only make things....awkward.”

“Your so picky Sho, most sophomores in college are out there partying, living life and ‘fucking bitches’” You teased.

“Well I’m not like most men my age.” The drop of his voice startled you, the hair on your arms raising at the slight raspy tone. You excused yourself to change. This wasn’t the first time Shouto’s acted rather...suspicious around you. In his twenty years of life he had always shown particular favor towards you sometimes with an intensity that sort of scared you. It was like he..had feelings for you.

‘Ridiculous’ You chimed as you stripped out of your clothes. You had always reminded yourself that the thought was preposterous. ‘He’s still waiting for the right one, that’s why he’s never shown any interest in anyone.’ A small voice at the back of your head whispered a small doubt ‘except for me’. “Ludacris.” You huffed as you picked out what to wear and readied yourself, you chose a raunchy outfit, short sheer fabrics that tightened around your curves, heels that flattered the slopes of your calves and a pair of fluffy cat ears. Mittens were placed over your hands as you fastened the faux tail onto your waist.

You painted whiskers on your cheeks, your lips a deep shade of ruby. You looked stunning and you were planning on using your appearance to get back at your loser boyfriend. A smirk fitted your face ‘That assholes’ going to regret cheating on me’

Shouto shuffled over to a corner as strangers began to arrive at the family home. He noticed a couple of people from his major slither in but made no move to greet them. After all there was no need. The music was loud in his ears and the stench of sweat hung in the air like an off brand diffuser. It wasn’t long before the house became a clutter of bodies, they donned glitter and masks as they grinded against each other.

Plumes of smoke blurred the ceiling as people gathered around a bong one of his ‘friends’ had brought in. The breath of the people who came up to flirt with him was thick with the scent of booze. His vacant eyes scanned the crowd, various people dressed as sexy nurses, nuns, devils etc. There were some good ones, special effects decorated a realistic zombie, but not even the walking dead cosplayer could salvage the party. To him it was a miserable event, a violation of his and your sanctuary. All he could think of was how he wished he could recreate the sense from the collector 2. It put a smile on his face. Apparently his smile attracted his friends.

“Come on Todoroki!” Midoriya chimed holding up a cup towards him. “Have a drink” “Yeah loosen up and have some fun~” Ochako grinned. “Also~ Look who's here.” She

elbowed him in the gut, cocking her head towards a pretty long haired brunette dressed as a witch. He rolled his eyes, how many times did he have to tell these annoying people that he wasn’t interested in anyone.

“Look I know your a bit shy but she still likes you. Maybe you can go over there, chat her up a bit and who knows you might even get laid.” He was not amused. ‘There’s only one person I want to-’ He looked past the girl and his jaw dropped. He could feel his face warm up, his breath complete and utterly stolen.

“Wow.” He breathed. His friends assumed he spoke of the Yaoyorozu and nudged him over towards that general direction. He walked slowly towards you, you looked a sight. The neon lights made your skin glow, your liner giving your eyes a more cattish look that to him made you look downright sexy. Your exposed flesh teased his eyes and your lips. God he wished he could steal them.

His throat bobbed as he saw you drink from a plastic cup, your tongue running across your lower lip seductively. His heart thumped loudly in his chest, blood rushing south. His mouth watered and before he knew it someone obstructed his view of you.

“S-Shouto.” He frowned. “I noticed that you were looking at-

“I’m sorry but can you move out of my way?” He cut her off and made to walk away to pursue you. He was ready to risk it all, he was tired of waiting for you to notice him. Tired of being brushed aside and he was sick of watching someone as ethereal as you be treated like trash. Maybe now was his chance. Your ‘feelings’ for your boyfriend were waning and now was the perfect moment to sweep you off your feet to show you how he was the best choice for you.

Before he could walk away he felt the young woman grab his wrist.

“W-wait d-don’t you like me?” She asked. He scoffed, his eyes zoning in on you. He was trying not to let you out of his sight when he saw it. He grit his teeth in anger as you flirted with his senor. Mirio just smiled politely complimenting you as you leaned against him. Yaoyorozu looked at him watching as his grip on his cup tightened and how his eyes narrowed down at the tall blond. She finally understood. She recoiled away from him, drawing her hand back as if she had been burned.

Her lips curled in disgust, her eyes cringing in disbelief. She brought her hand up to her mouth. “I-I can’t believe it.” She whispered. “The rumors are actually true..”

“What?” He asked, his sharp gaze slicing through her. She backed up tossing her drink on his face.

“Get away from me you sick pervert.” she hissed.

“Hey!” You shouted, you marched up to the girl who tossed the beer into your brother’s face. You quickly noticed who she was and for the wrong reasons you understood why Shouto didn’t like her. From where you were standing you saw a rich, beautiful girl who was angry at your younger brother’s rejection. She had to go. “If your going to harass my baby you can just fucking leave.” You hissed.

“I’ll leave gladly.” She hissed. “You too fucking disgust me.”

“Sho are you okay?” You asked, your hand slipping into his. He looked down at it in disbelief, his heart swelled ‘She called me baby again. She’s here in front of everyone holding my hand.’ He couldn’t stop the furious flush from claiming his cheeks.

“Shouto?”

“I-I’m fine.” He smiled. It was a warm smile, something that unsettled his approaching friends.

“Good.” You beamed. “You should go change and actually put on a costume.”

He nodded mutely and walked past Midoriya and Uraraka, a blissful smile on his lips as he went up to change. He wondered if you’d like his vampire costume..

“Do you think..”

“Ha, no way it’s not possible…”

He checked his reflection a couple of times before heading downstairs, he wondered if you’d like the way he parted his hair. He’s heard people say it was sexy, he wondered if you thought he was sexually attractive. As soon as he reached the bottom step he frowned, your blubbering idiot of a boyfriend was piss poor drunk. And by the way he set his gaze on him Shouto knew he was going to have to exhibit an almost superhero level of self-restraint.

“Oi sissy boy, why you ain’t ever got a woman?” He slurred. “You gay or something?”

“Okay man I think you’ve had too many.” his friend waved him off trying to get him to leave.

“No I’m not dun speaking.” He stumbled as he swiveled over to look up at Shouto. “Listen here punk.” His rancid breath fanned across Todoroki’s face, and he couldn’t help but cringe his lips curling in disgust.

“Ya gotta problem wit meh? Always glaring at me an shit. Alway following my bitch around, you like her or sum? Your dick get hard for your sister?” He had started a commotion, a crowd soon gathering. Shouto had taken your panicked expression in and for your sake, he walked away. “That’s rite! Walk away you prissy bitch.”

When he came back the party was over and you were left cleaning up the mess. The lights were still swirling around the room and he could make out the lump of the man laying on the couch passed out. Your tired eyes were red rimmed as you smiled at him. “Hey Sho.”

It was when he saw the swelling in your left eye that he began to seethe. “He fucking hit you again.” He snarled, his fists balled up in fury.

“H-He said he was sorry…” You sniffed weakly, you were on your last legs. Tired of defending him yet he knew if the man brought you flowers and took you out for a night in the town you’d crawl back having forgiven him. He couldn’t have that, he wouldn’t. “I-It’s alright Shouto i-it doesn’t even hurt anymore.” You sighed as his thumb caressed your cheek his fingers lightly bruising against the inflamed area. You winced and it was only when you met his teary gaze that you began to cry. You cried in his arms, you cried in the arms of the only man who loved you, and the only man who would protect you. He vowed to do justice by you, you would just have to bear it for a while longer.

He kept his anger under wraps as he helped you clean, his grip on the broom was tight as he watched you go upstairs. It was then that his blood began to boil. But he would have to be patient, he fished out his phone waiting for you to be done showering. The texts he read over left him tugging at the roots of his hair. You hadn’t explained everything. Apparently he had hit you during the party in front of everyone then proceeded to throw everyone out. There were even videos!

White hot anger clouded his eyes, the snowy color was all that he could see as he walked into the kitchen. His heart beat in his ears and his blood was replaced by lava. He panted like something rabid, his vision fading and all of his previous fantasies coming to rest in the front of his mind. Soon his fingers wrapped around the cool metal of a kitchen knife.

He caught a glimpse of his expression on the metallic surface, red rimmed his eyes' malicious intent curving up his lips. His tongue ran across his bottom lip as he walked towards the living room. His footsteps were slow as he wanted to savor the moment, breath every detail in. Once he reached the man he tapped the knife against his scruffy cheek.

“You know.” He whispered. “I’ve been wanting to kill you for so so long.”

He climbed over the man, his legs straddling his form. “You remind me of my father.” He smiled. “And I loathed him~ I didn’t mean to get Natsuo killed when I cut the breaks but” He paused to shrug. “It wasn’t a big deal. I got two for the price of one.” He chuckled, a frown soon slipped onto his visage. He wanted the man to be conscious for this. With out warning he backhanded the man without an ounce of self-restraint.

“Gah!” The guy panicked. His eyes wide and shifting as he tried to make sense of the situation, all he could feel was the booming pain on his cheek, a coppery liquid pooling in his mouth. “S-Shouto!?” He gasped confused. There was a strange smile on the young man’s face that he’d never seen, it was frightening and he struggled to buck the stronger man off him. “G-Get off me!”

“No.” He wheezed. “It’s funny, isn’t it! The feeling you feel right now? I’m pretty sure my big sister felt it all the time, unbridled fear.” He teased revealing the clean metal of the knife.

“T-This isn’t funny.” He stuttered.

“I know.” Shouto seethed. “It’s never been funny, the way you treat the love of my life, I never found that shit amusing.”

“Y-Your crazy!” He gasped, hyperventilating at the crushing weight and the palpable fear. “I-I’ll scream.” He warned.

“Oh” He nodded. “I’m counting on it.” He leaned closer to the man’s ear. “You see we have no close neighbors and well (Name)’s room is soundproof. You see.. I just couldn’t stand the sound of you touching her.”

“(Name)!” He yelled, he was met with an explosive pain, his jaw crunching under the force of the blow, teeth loosening, some even dislodging and sliding down his bloodied throat.

“You know how disgusting it was to watch you touch her? Watch you soil her perfect body.” He hissed, his fist colliding with his face repeatedly, until he stopped suddenly. “But that’s okay.” He laughed caressing the soiled face of the deadman.

The man whimpered in pain, garbled noises bubbling from his busted lips. Crimson bubbles popped as he tried to beg for the Todoroki to spare him. “Shh shush I haven’t told you why it’s okay. It’s okay because I plan to erase all of that, all those nasty hurtful touches, they’ll be replaced by my loving hands, my lips and my dick. It’ll be fantastic and the best part is that little ol’ you won’t be a part of it.” THe tip of the knife booped his nose and the man scrambled to get up when he felt Shouto’s weight leave him.

Shouto didn’t know what to name the feeling coursing through his veins. He was ecstatic, he was angry and the thoughts of the future had him giddy. Blood had rushed south and he felt drunkenly dizzy. ‘Woah let’s not get carried away’ he tried to rationalize ‘We still have to deal with him.’ The man held his dislocated jaw and tried to make a run for it. But in his still drunk and confused state all he could manage was a stumble.

It was then that Shouto came down upon him, he plunged the knife into the soft flesh of the guy’s belly. His wide eyes gazed into Shouto’s blank excited ones and he couldn’t even hold the wound as he was repeatedly stabbed. His thin flesh squelched with each plunge, his life seeping and splattering around his perimeter. Shouto didn’t relent not even as his body slumped to the ground. Instead he followed him down, he snarled and growled as he attacked the man.

He thought of all he had put you through, how he made you shrivel and curl into yourself like a cooked shrimp of all of the times he talked him down and of the distance he had forced between you. He gasped and panted as he straddled the limp body of another nuisance he had gotten rid of. After a while he pulled back and stood.

There you laid, body rising and falling in slumber, completely unperturbed by what had happened just beneath your room. You were beautiful. You had changed into more comfortable clothes for sleep and he quietly peeled back your covers to observe. His fingers stained the duvet as he bunched it up at the end of the bed. He pulled off his gloves and let his fingertips ghost over your legs. You shivered cutely at the light touch.

He smiled beneath his bloodied mask, he figured he should trick you for a bit before he revealed the news. He climbed atop the bed, the mattress dipping underneath his weight. His fingers ghosted up your legs, cold digits reaching the crotch of your pants. He pressed his palm against the soft indent of flesh, his heart sped up at the warmth emanating from your most intimate place. He’d only ever dreamed of this.

“Hmm” You sighed in your sleep, your eyes fluttering open when you felt the cold fingers. You sat up confused. You called the name of your lover and Shouto chuckled darkly. You huffed in annoyance when he didn’t answer. “I thought I said I didn’t want to see you anymore.” You frowned. “Hello, you listening? Ugh are you still drunk.”

You flinched when he raised his hand and your brother felt his heart break at the reaction. ‘Don’t worry from now on I won’t let anyone else lay their hands on you.’ His hand slid up to your face and he cupped your cheek gently, pressing his masked forehead against yours. You were thoroughly confused.

You were used to your boyfriend coming into your room for makeup sex but he was never this gentle with you. The thought of him meaning he was really sorry crossed your mind but, the fingers caressing your cheek didn’t feel like your boyfriends’ but it did feel familiar and it was comforting. It wasn’t long before he began to tug your clothes off your body, his hands traced your form appreciatively and you sighed blissfully at the feeling.

“H-Hey at least take off your mask.” His silence was strange but you welcomed it. His hands came over your eyes, gently closing them. You caught on and kept them closed as you heard the rustle of clothes. It was then that you felt the press of smooth lips against your own. His fingers traced every inch of your body caressing the smooth flesh as his lips pressed soft kisses on your lips. Shouto swore there would never be anything better than your plush lips pressing against his own.

Well that was his thought, until his fingers pressed against your slick lower lips. He buried his face in your neck, face flushed as you curled your arms around his neck. The soft squish of your wet lips had him throbbing and he let his fingers pet your clit as he worshiped the delicious length of your neck. You were on cloud nine as he kneaded and massaged your doughy flesh. His lips suckled on your breasts, tongue lavishing the hardened buds in attention as his fingers continued to swirl and tap against your swollen pearl.

“Nngh” You gasped when you felt his fingers slip inside of you, your fingers coming up to fist his soft his, your other hand clawing at his broad shoulders. It was the feel of these textures that spurred you to open your eyes. “S-Shouto!” You moaned.

His blue grey eyes slinked up to meet your gaze, his lidded expression filling your cheeks with warmth. Your jaw unhinged in another gasp as his thick fingers continued to slide inside your warm fleshy walls. Your mouth parted in protest “W-What are y-y-” Soft lips caught your own and your eyes enlarged as you felt your younger brother's tongue slide past your lips. The warm wet muscles gliding over your own.

His other hand palmed your breast fingers squeezing the supple flesh that was still covered in a thin layer of his saliva. You pressed your hands to his chest. ‘T-This is wrong! You thought as his tongue rolled in between your teeth. When he pulled away there was a string of saliva that broke off.

“I love you.” He breathed, placing his lips where he knew they belonged.

“Ah~” You didn’t mean to let the sound slip, but his fingers had curved inside of you and with every thrust he put pressure against your g-spot. Your hand went to his wrist in order to halt his movement.

“S-Shouto s-stop this is wrong, y-your my-

“Little brother.” He finished his mouth sucking on your neck. “I don’t care about that, in my opinion it just means we’re more connected.” His smile shocked you but what you felt against your thigh shocked you even more.

“I-”

“Shh there’s no one to stop us.” He whispered. “No one to stop me from showing you how you should be loved.”

Your mouth opened and closed as you struggled to string together something coherent. Your protests resumed when he slid his other hand down your body, he leaned up allowing you to see the light sheen of sweat that highlighted the strong muscles of his body. And your eyes looked down his cut abdomen towards the bi-colored trail of hair leading down towards his weeping cock. His eyes met your and your face caught fire. You were about to draw into yourself and curl your body away from his lustful gaze when his large palms slid underneath your thighs.

Your back hit the bed as he leaned his face closer to your cunt. You mind was still reeling, ‘G-get a grip (Name)! Your baby brother’s face is legit inches from your puss-

“Oh fuck.” You gasped as his hot tongue slid up the length of your slit. His tongue traced your lips, tongue curving into the folds of your labia before sliding back up towards your needy clit. When his tongue began to flick against the sensitive nerves you were lost. You arched your back pressing your pussy closer to his face practically begging him to suck you dry.

He obliged, his mouth closing around your clit, fingers finding home base deep within your deliciously warm walls. You pulsed and trobbed around his finger and he swore he was dreaming. You tasted better than he imagined, you sounded better in person than from behind a wall. And god you just looked so damn amazing.

“S-Shouto!” You cried. He moaned into you. Fuck yes that was all he ever wanted, all he needed, he need you to say it again to call his name out so desperately. He was grinding against the mattress as he let your warmth suffocate him. He held you close as you began to tremble your legs clamping over his head as you came around his tongue.

“Hah~” He pulled back, his lips sticky with your slick, he wasted no time in capturing your lips once more. “Big sis I love you so much.” He gasped. “I -I want to show you how much.”

“B-baby this is wrong.” Your protest was weak, no one had ever touched you like Shouto, no one had loved you as unconditionally as him, but this was morally wrong.

“Don’t you love me?” He asked.

“Of course I love you.” You replied.

“Then there’s no problem.” He smiled. He settled in between your thighs, the head of his cock pressing against your pussy. He could seriously cum right there and then by just the incredible sight. And when he pushed into your hole he melted. He felt even more complete with every inch he fed into you. “I’m inside of you (Name).” His grin was practically euphoric and you fluttered around his impressive size.

Then he began to move. He praised the feel of you, his length sliding in and out, slow and deep. That night Shouto made due on his promise to love you, and as you drifted off to sleep he replayed the moment, relishing in how you claimed to love him.

When you awoke the next morning your mind slapped you with what had occurred last night. The horrors of you claiming to love your little brother cock filled you with a crippling sense of shame. You hadn’t woke to him next to you but after dressing you went to find him. You had to let him know that that couldn’t happen again.

You hugged yourself as you walked down the stairs, from your spot you could see Shouto in the kitchen, on the table were two bowls and a box of your favorite cereal. ‘It’s now or-. The smell hit you first, a strong nauseating smell that you were only used to smelling during your heavier flows. Your blood drain and in its place your heart pumped liquid nitrogen. You reeled back as you caught sight of the body in front of you, you stumbled over your feet, your ass meeting the floor. Tears dripped down your chin as you tried to make heads or tails of what you saw.

“What are you doing on the floor?” You heard your brother ask. He then noticed what you were looking at. “Oh.. Oh! I forgot to tell you the good news yesterday since we were so caught up.” He blushed.

“G-good news..”

“Yeah, good news, that’s no longer in the picture.” He beamed. “Now come on you must be hungry~”

#frightober 2020 #yandere todoroki x reader #yandere todoroki shoto #shouto x reader #yandere shouto x reader #tw: dubcon #todoroki shoto x reader #yandere todoroki smut #todoroki shoto smut #todoroki x reader smut

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wizisbored · 2 years

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Am I allowed to ask for more details about Beetlejuice/the Witchwoods slowly influencing Lydia? 👀

hell yea! ive just been sketching the Fucked Up Child and thinking about her so great timing!

so its the physical stuff they notice first. after a while in the woods lydia starts complaning that her boots are squashing her toes, and they all notice that the clothes she brought with her when she ran away are starting to look a little short in the arms and legs. the ripped knees in her jeans dont quite line up with her knees anymore, and her dress doesnt fit properly. since shes a teenager and still technically alive, its easy to write this off as a growth spurt. doesnt really explain how her hair's growing so fast, but they just trim it as best they can and move on. the maitlands help her sort out which clothes definately arent wearable anymore and they use some of the little money they have to take her to a charity shop to get some bigger ones. its only when those clothes start looking a little small that they start to get concerned - spurt or not, she should not be growing that fast.

so at this point, lydia is looking lanky as hell. long child. im imagining shes not really growing proportionally, just getting taller, mostly through her limbs getting longer. but shes also starting to put on a bit of muscle too - she'd expect to get a bit stronger from the amount of dancing that comes from being infected, but this is more than that. the most noticable aspect im considering is her eyes looking like how i drew beetlejuice's in my first sketch page - white pupils, black whites - but im not sure on that one. also considering sharper, or at least stronger teeth and nails.

the mental aspect im not so sure of, but i know its a chain reaction of sorts - the woods' influence makes her more susceptible to beetlejuice's. it kinda looksens up her morals a little, as well as her... general sense of humanity, i guess? lydia gets to go a little feral, as a treat.

one of the ways in which this is most apparent, and that i have acutally got ideas for, is her eating. the other three dont need food, but lydia is alive and growing quick, and its making her hungry. at the start she and the maitlands try to stretch the money they have as far as they can while they figure out a more long-term solution to getting her food. beetlejuice, on the other hand, insists that he can keep her fed on rabbit and squirrel. shes not keen on that, but desperate times desperate measures and all that, and so he bags her a rabbit and the maitlands help her figure out how to cut and cook something edible from it. but over time she seems to care less and less about properly cleaning and cooking it. not sure if she ever gets to the point where shes eating raw meat, but she gets damn close. in theory, eventually beetlejuice would probably be able to persuade her to hunt for herself, but honestly he doesnt really want her to become self-sufficient.

anyway, the gradual change in diet has the additional effect of changing who she spends meals with. when the maitlands are helping her cook she obviously is talking to them, but when shes grabbing a squirrel off beetlejuice and quickly hacking it up then and there shes more likely to talk to him. of course, thats only going to help his influence to seep in.

i know theres probably going to be some stuff about her being more open to violence - as an idea and as an action - but im going to save that for another time when ive thought it through better and it is also not 2:40 am.

#hf/bj au #would very much appreciate more asks about this au but i will have to save them for tomorrow

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buglife · 3 years

Text

Terra Lumina

A hollow knight au guide that I keep writing in. You can read all my writings and art stuff in the #terra-lumina tag. Mostly so I can just point to this post when explaining things awee. :3 Post subject to edits and changes.

Terra Lumina is an au where both Ghost (the little knight) and Quirrel are together and are the new rulers of Hallownest. So it's a royalty au! Pretty much it's slice of life where they do their best to be a better ruler than the Pale King ever was, ruling with kindness and intelligence. Seriously, like, the Pale King could have just talked to the Radiance instead of letting things snowball like they did. They both live in the new palace which is pretty much like the White House in that it's mostly dedicated to government with an apartment for the rulers to live in. It's where the old palace used to be, but now it's much greener and 100% less buzzsaws. It is post embrace the void ending and an everyone lives/nobody dies au where the only characters that are dead are those that were found so at the start of the game. Takes place about 5-7 years after the end of the game.

The two romantic rulers.

Ghost:Now taller than Quirrel and is the Shade Lord, god of void and dreams. Sovereign of Hallownest and rightful ruler due to king's brand. Can use telepathy but only does so with family/friends, as they are nervous about scaring people so uses sign language with them. Is very happy to have family/friends and overall liked by most folks. Is still scary to some and is sad about that. Married Quirrel. Considers Mato their adoptive father and calls them such. Still enjoys fighting (but for fun now). Since dreams are now their aspect, they gather up nightmares to help the population (and gives to their adopted grimmchild, Allegro, and Grimm themselves.)

Quirrel: Now called the Scholar King, rules alongside Ghost. He still has trouble believing that this is his life. Chaotic Good. Mostly deals with the logistics in running the kingdom. Adoptive mother is Monomon who found him when he was teeny tiny. Did not attempt to drown themselves, instead isolated himself when he thought Monomon was dead so Ghost had to find him. Still fights and can practically teleport. Spends free time in the palace library where a copy of all the surviving books were moved to and is free to the public to check out and read.

Family/Friends

Hornet: Still the Princess of Deepnest and was happy to have her mother Herrah rule again. Is officially Deepnest's ambassador and works closely with her sibling to be sure things that need to get done, get done. She won't admit it but she loves spending time with her siblings. Also randomly jumps Ghost to keep them on their toes and make sure they don't lose their skill. This can happen at anytime, anyplace. Is a close ally with the Hive and is helping the new Queen get used to her role. Also demands spars with Quirrel all the time because she does like her brother and law and the fact she doesn't kill him is proof enough in her eyes.

Mato: Dadmaster. Pretty much raised Ghost in between the end of the game to present day (and did a damn good job). Still lives in the Howling Cliffs and teaches students still, especially knight candidates. Is always on hand to cause trouble if needed. Is so proud you guys can't even. Keeps his home open in case Ghost and Quirrel need to hide for a bit. Officiated Ghost and Quirrel's wedding because of course.

Hollow: Part of the new great knights of Hallownest and is known as Hollow the Kind. Still likes to help people, and after having lots of care and therapy, is now more expressive and open. Is pretty much free to do what they please, and they choose to mostly patrol the kingdom and help when needed. Is constantly sneaking frogs into the palace because Hollow loves them. Can only use telepathy with other void beings and uses sign language to communicate otherwise. Is still missing an arm but had a magical prosthetic built. Loves to be in cuddle piles.

Tiso:Big brother figure and part of the new great knights of Hallownest. He is known as Tiso the Daring. Is actually a badass Captain America type fighter, just couldn't dodge a house sized mawlek and nearly died back then. Taught Ghost all the swears and often invokes 'Big Brother Rights'. Is also Captain of the Guard and has matured a lot since the end of the game. In a relationship with Myla and Cloth.

Cloth:Part of the new great knights of Hallownest and is known as Cloth the Strong. Makes sure people behave. Has healed from her near suicidal want to join her late lover, and now has a more positive outlook on life. Tends to organize tournaments that aren't fucked up and fatal like the Coliseum. In a relationship with Tiso and Myla.

Myla:Was saved from the infection, but it left her prone to sickness and a little weaker than most bugs. Compensates for still being cherry and wonderful to be around. Actually wicked smart and has helped Ghost restart the mining industry. Enjoys going to musicals/plays in her free time. Still loves being a geologist and provided most of the geological samples in the Capital's museum. Is in a relationship with Cloth and Tiso.

Ogrim: The only surviving great knight of old Hallownest. Is part of the new knights as Ogrim the Defender. Is the leader of the new knights and is a brilliant tactician. Has moved up from the Waterways to a new home and no longer lives in exile. Likes to plan parties and is generally doing better. He deserves it.

God Tamer: Real name is Xena (I seen it used around and I like it.) Part of the new great knights of Hallownest and is known as Xena the Tamer. Still works alongside her beast, ‘Pickles’. Has an uncanny ability to befriend dangerous beasts and pacifies them. Now has a small zoo’s worth of ‘friends’ that come and go for pats and treats. Dunks on Tiso a lot. Is surprisingly a conservationist. Will beat the shit out of people without hesitation if needed. Often fights new recruits to judge areas needing improvement. Has no tolerance for idiots. Was saved from the infection, but was not infected long enough to cause long term damage.

Allegro: The Grimmchild. Has chosen female pronouns. She is now past the grub stage and has left the kingdom to travel with her father, Grimm, to learn how to take over the Troupe. Still keeps in contact with Ghost through dreams and loves Ghost very much as their ‘Ren’. Was and still is, a little shit. Ghost misses them a lot but is comforted by her visits. Ghost saves nightmares to give to her so she can get big and strong!

Grimm: Considered a friend at this point, and taught Ghost about the dream realm. Visits through dreams. Ghost saves nightmares to give to him. Often has advice when needed.

Sheo/Nailsmith: Uncles. They both run an art school with Sheo teaching fine arts and Nail(Smith) teaching forging. They also run an art gallery. Are up to cause trouble whenever needed.

Oro: Uncle. The real sour one. Teaches new recruits and tends to weed out those that can make it from ones that can’t. Pretty much a drill Sargent. Ghost pays him not only in geo, but candy. Special, custom made candy just for Oro. It’s the only way they could get him to do this job. Oro won’t admit it’s also because he loves his former pupil no sir.

Monomon: Quirrel’s adoptive mother and currently is the royal researcher. Teaches classes as well. Ghost pretty much told her to do whatever as long as it will improve the lives of bugkind and she loves them for it. Is always down to cause trouble. Chaotic Neutral. Has some type of explosive with them at any given time. Tends to ‘vanish’ people who have wrong her or her son. Embodies chaos. Craves gossip. Former Dreamer and woke up when Ghost took the pantheon approach to defeating the Radiance.

Herrah: Queen of Hallownest and considers Ghost one of her children. Is happy to be Queen of her own people and is making up for lost time with her daughter. Likes to meet with the Hallownest rulers for a good shit-talking session. Is made of sass. Former Dreamer and woke up when Ghost took the pantheon approach to defeating the Radiance.

Lurien: Watcher of the Capital. Disaster. Will stay up for days on end working on things to accidentally invent new things in the process in sleep deprived delirium. Often gets drunk or high and contemplates the universe. Has the best edibles around I tell you. Is actually good at his job, which is finding suspicious things and investigating them. Former Dreamer and woke up when Ghost took the pantheon approach to defeating the Radiance.

Lemm: Runs the Hallownest museum and works in the back where he catalogs and studies findings and doesn’t have to talk to anyone and is the happiest he could ever be.

Seer: Holy shit she is old. Still lives in the resting grounds. Ghost visits often and brings tea and snacks. Grandma energy. Is currently working with Quirrel to recount as much as she can about moth legends and society so it can be preserved forever. It’s slow going because she is old, but it’s going.

The siblings: Are now at rest.

Everything else

White Lady: Is still alive and has left the gardens. She resides in a little hidden cottage outside the palace where she grows flowers. Is often called in to overlook agriculture efforts. Has long since revoked her crown and is content with a quiet life. Is not considered a mother by Ghost, and Ghost will not forgive her for her role in things. She is okay with this and hopes to atone someday for what she did.

The Pale King: Still fucking dead. Rest in Pieces you shit.

Eternal Emilitia: Is a member of the new noble class and takes her job seriously. She mostly keeps the other nobles in line when she can and helps delegate orders to places where they need to go. It’s like herding cats but she’s getting better with it the longer she’s around. Is respected by Ghost since she knows what it’s like to hit rock bottom and is quite sensitive to the needs to the people.

Radiance: Dead. Was going mad and in pain by the time Ghost got to her. Is now at rest.

Greenpath/Queen’s Gardens:Given back to the moss-kin and Unn. Unn has started to awaken more now that the infection is over and her children are freed from it’s influence. Is considered it’s own ‘kingdom’. Is in good relations with Hallownest.

Fungal Wastes: Still thriving. A hivemind made up of everything from microscopic spores to the entire fungal waste itself. The mushroom tribe trades with Hallownest and is in good relations with them. Still considered weird to most but they are good and peaceful people.

Mantis Tribe: Is in a good relationship with Ghost, Hornet and Quirrel, and not much else. Has complete independence but was asked nicely if they could help train the most dedicated of new guards/knights. Did not pass up the opportunity to be allowed to beat the shit out of willing Hallownest citizens who wanted to train.

Deepnest: Ruled by Queen Herrah and Princess Hornet. Good relationship with Hallownest and enjoys full independence. The beasts that reside are no longer hassled by Hallownest encroachment and thus does not push back into it. Exports silk products and is now a very prosperous nation.

Dirtmouth/Crystal Peaks: Still the same, but with now more people. All our favorite Dirtmouth folks are doing well. Elderbug is delighted to have a full town to be a mayor over.

City of Tears: Now called the 'Capital'. Plants are now on the ceiling to redirect water and stop the constant rain. It's much more pleasant now.

Colosseum of Fools: Left alone mostly. Ghost cannot stop people for wanting to go there if they are of sound mind to make the decision.

The Hive: Is now ruled by the new Queen Apis. Is fully independent and enjoys a cushy trade agreement with Hallownest and the rest of the various nations. She wonders if she will ever live up to her mother, Queen Vespa, but has many friends to help her grow into the role. Hive Knight is her loyal friend.

#hollow knight #terra lumina #au stuff #ruler au #ghost #quirrel #ghost/quirrel #myla/tiso/cloth #sheo/nailsmith #dreamers are alive au #everyone lives/nobody dies #my writing

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moonflower-31 · 3 years

Text

I Won’t Forget You - Spencer x Reader

Masterlist

Part 23

Pairing: Spencer x Reader

A/N: So... Long time no talk? Sorry guys. Depression sucks and so does life. What can ya do. But I hope this is good. My school just went on lockdown for 2 weeks so i should be able to get back into the swing of things. No guarantees btw. But please enjoy this part. I think it’s pretty good for someone who hasn’t written for two weeks. XD

Warnings: A lot of shouting, cursing, name-calling, self-doubt (obviously), and slightly panic attack (I’ll go more into it in the next part)

Tags: @dra-reid, @eevee0722, @ceeellewrites, @anotherr-fine-mess, @ssahoodrathotchner, @egg-boy03, @helena-way07, @l0ve-0f-my-life, @serendipity-imagines, @kaelyn-lobrutto24, @thatsonezesty13

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

A week later, and you had finally been released from the hospital. Your infection had gotten to a manageable point where you could just take antibiotics and be cured of it in a few more weeks. Spencer had spent the entire time with you, never leaving your side. Except when you had to use the restroom. Obviously.

"Spence… you gotta shower, seriously. I'm thankful, really, that you stayed with me all week. But you need a shower. Bad." You insist, hobbling slightly as you walk out of the hospital.

You sigh softly to yourself, closing your eyes tightly for a moment as you waited for Spencer. Trying to hide the ever growing terror that filled your heart was getting increasingly harder to hide. But you didn't have time for therapy or to feel sorry for yourself. The BAU never made your case an active one despite two agents having gone missing and being taken. Which told you well enough that you weren't worth the time. Serial killers deserved more attention than you.

"Hey, are you okay, (Y/N)?"

The sudden touch to your shoulder plus the speech coming from Spencer pulled a shriek from your lungs. You jumped and looked toward Spencer terrified for a few agonizingly long moments.

You took a deep breath and refocused your breathing, hoping to ease your racing heart back to it's slightly less annoying rhythm.

"Y-yeah…" you murmur, shaking your head in an attempt to clear your mind. You also cleared your throat for good measure. "Yeah, I uh… I'm okay. Just a little… jumpy is all."

Spencer’s frown deepens on his face, looking towards you sadly. Was this really the time for him to tell you how he felt? No, it really wasn't. You were healing. No, you are healing. You didn't need the confusion of a brand new romantic relationship to be added to your already overflowing plate.

"Well… I'm here if you need me." Spencer assured, flashing a gentle smile towards you. You sighed and nodded back to hin.

"Yeah, yeah," you exhaled, looking away from Spencer and not meeting his gaze. "Thanks."

Spencer could feel the wedge you were unknowingly making grow between you. He hoped he could help you. After Hankel, he had hardly anyone. If he could make a difference in your PTSD, he would. He would try his damndest even if it killed him.

"Well… I can at least get you back to the apartment. I'm sure Hotch will understand why I'm a few minutes late-" Spencer began, directing you towards the parking lot. He looked back at you and saw a flash of fear run over your (E/C) eyes as you stopped.

"N-no. No, I need to get back to work. I don't have any vacation days saved up. I gotta go with you to work." You insisted, feeling a heavy stone of fear weigh on your chest.

Spencer narrowed his eyes and looked over at you, stopping in his tracks. "(Y/N), Hotch gave you vacation days. You don't have to go back right now-"

"No, Spencer. I'm going back. The team needs me. If I'm alone, Peter’s gonna have a better chance at finding me so-" the tears began falling before you could even realize. You feel your voice crack in your throat and all you knew to do was cover your mouth and try to smother your sobs.

Spencer’s arms were around you before you could say, his hand rubbing your back while his other cradled your head. He didn't say anything, he just held you. You were thankful he hadn't. It was all you could do to keep your hand over your mouth and the other fisted in Spencer's days old cardigan.

After what felt like forever, (reality was five minutes) Spencer pulled slightly away and tilted your head up to encourage you to look at him. "W-why don't we just get in the car for now? Figure things out on the way?" Spencer asked. Maybe you could still work. But he would put his foot down personally if you did anything other than desk work.

You nodded subtly and swallowed what remained of your sobs. Spencer smiled gently and began guiding you towards the parking lot gently, not forcing you to venture any faster than you felt comfortable.

You found yourself wandering with your eyes across the street, having become more vigilant and observant since your capture. Everything seemed normal. Couples were walking together hand in hand, some with kids. Some business men and women walked with their phones glued to their ears while some people were carrying groceries to their car. It wasn't suspicious at all. It should have calmed you. But it didn't. The only thing you found yourself able to be calm about was the fact that Spencer had his arms around you. That was what made you feel safe.

Spencer looked towards you, watching you for a few moments. He watched your eyes wandering frantically across the parking lot and put two and two together. Just being in the parking lot scared you. Spencer couldn’t help but relate. The crunch of leaves had been his trigger for a few weeks after his kidnapping. Spencer squeezed you closer and rubbed your shoulder to get your attention. You turn your head back towards him, finding a relieving inhale enter you at the sight of his kind eyes once again looking into yours. “I’ll go pull up the car. You think you can stay here for a few seconds?” He asks. A jolt of regret strikes him as he sees the fear fill your pupils. But you don’t verbalize these fears. Instead you nodded silently.

Spencer gave you a gentle grin before he went to go bring the car towards you. That way you didn’t have to step foot in the parking lot. He knew he was probably risking a few things, but at least you didn’t have to be fearful of the asphalt.

You bit your lip anxiously, the hairs on your arms raising in false alarm. You knew you were safe. Your brain knew you were safe. But your heart was in overdrive. It had stolen the control console from your brain and was currently making you an emotional and anxious mess. A part of you didn’t want to go to work. It wanted to take your time to recover. But the rest of you was adamant on going. The case hadn’t been made priority. They were just lucky that no cases were deemed important enough for the BAU to help during the week you and Morgan had been missing.

You remained lost in your thoughts until you felt the touch of Spencer’s hand on your shoulder. You looked up and gave him a gentle smile.

“We’re gonna be late if we don’t go now. We have 39 minutes till we are considered late.” Spencer informs, trying not to derail from his normal personality so much that you noticed. He hated being pitied. And he knew that you did as well.

You nodded and began to follow. You climbed into the passenger seat and fastened your seatbelt. Your hands flexed and moved anxiously, unable to sit still. You took a few deep breaths, hearing Spencer get into the car alongside you.

You finally opened your eyes and felt the car roar to life underneath you. You were heading back to work. You'd get back to normal soon. You had to.

○●♡●○

The both of you had found a comfortable silence in the transport to the BAU. Spencer kept a comforting hand in yours, allowing you to squeeze it when needed.

But now, as Spencer pulled into his usual parking spot, did your chest begin to tighten somewhat. You hadn't been here for what felt like years. Peter had abducted you from this very parking lot. Anyone would understandably be anxious.

But by some miracle, you managed to keep your anxieties covert as Spencer and you got out of the car. Of course, Spencer suspected you had a little fear from being back here, but didn't push you. Many statistics had shown in the past that forcing a PTSD victim to share their trauma without it being their terms can be destructive to their mental health. Translation: He wasn't going to ask you about it.

The ride up the elevator was torturous. Slow, agonizing, and not to mention extremely long. You found yourself fidgeting and moving in place rather than standing still. You'd never done this before. To say it didn't worry you would be a very big lie.

"Are you sure you're ready, (Y/N)? You can always utilize the time off Hotch gave you."

You appreciated Spencer’s worry, you really did. It helped to have someone there who was willing to care when you weren't. But that didn't mean that you still didn't get somewhat annoyed over the continuous asking.

"Yeah, I'm fine Spencer. I just need to get my mind off…" you stopped and pushed a heavy exhale from your chest. "Everything."

Spencer didn't push, and soon enough the two of you were inside the BAU's glass doors, walking towards the familiar bullpen. You subconsciously fix the cuffs of your dress shirt, avoiding the eyes of everyone who was shocked to see you.

You sighed softly as you both continued into the bullpen, meeting the eyes of two of your coworkers.

"(Y/N), What are you doing back so early? You have like, 5 weeks of available off time. You need to rest yourself. And your mind. Trauma isn't something that should be taken lightly." Prentiss spoke, stopping in your tracks to keep you from getting to your desk.

Spencer, unbeknownst to you, made a cut it out gesture to Emily and cleared his throat. "It's alright. She's only going to be doing reports and desk work." Spencer expressed, looking around at everyone who had decided to turn around a watch.

Emily sighed. "Alright. But I'm not going to let you go on any cases. I'm still your supervisory agent. You're lucky we're free of the more important cases so we've been working on yours." You feel an icy stab to the chest from her comment, reminding you of how unimportant you felt. You swallowed dryly and nodded, not caring that you hadn't said a word and had let Spencer talk for you. You didn't feel like talking anyway.

You then sat down at your desk with a sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose as you felt the familiar breeze that came with a stack of reports falling onto your desk.

You nodded towards whoever it was that gave you the reports and then started on them. It wasn't long until you had managed to clear all of your feelings from your mind and instead hyperfocus on the reports and the details in each.

You lost track of so much time, that when Spencer put a cup of coffee on your desk, you jumped and almost verbally cursed.

"Jesus-" you began, holding your chest for a moment. Spencer’s eyes widened and held his hands up once the coffee was safely level on your desk.

"S-sorry. I-I just thought you could use a little bit of a 'pick-me-up' or whatever Morgan said it was." He seemed nervous, his hand finding his neck soon after finishing his statement.

You smile at him genuinely for what feels like the first time in weeks and nod to him. "Yeah… I needed it. Thank you, Spence."

Spencer’s eyes almost twinkle with happiness at your reply, his cheeks growing red and his smile appearing on his face as he goes back to his desk behind yours.

Then the moment ended.

"(L/N)? What are you doing back so early?"

You turn your head and find Hotch walking towards your desk. You swallow a nervous laugh and instead begin to find a way to reply for yourself. Spencer didn't need to defend you forever.

"Hotch… I can't stay at home like that. I need to keep my mind focused on something else. I can't sit by when you all still need my help. My case wasn't made of importance. Why should I treat it like it is?" You insist, shoving down the sob that desperately wanted to escape your throat.

Hotch sighed and began to speak "(Y/N)..."

"No. Let me speak. I'm not going to sit on my ass at home while you all work on the case that almost got Morgan killed. I'm going to help you. Its here at home. I won't have to go anywhere." Every part of you was begging for Hotch to understand. That he would give you a chance.

Hotch gave you a questioning look for a few moments, allowing you to finish if you chose to continue, before he spoke up. "Just because you're healed physically doesn't mean you're better mentally. You went through something noone can relate to. You need to take the time to heal."

"But I'm needed here, Hotch. I'm not going to go home and do nothing. It's just not my style. Now if you'll let me, I have a few more reports to do from this pile." You deadpan, gritting your teeth as you sit back down at your desk to finish reports filled with information you would never forget.

Hotch sighed, looking back at Spencer for a moment before he turned around and began to continue on his list of things to do.

You sighed and grumbled to yourself, trying to focus your emotions yet again so that you could finish the reports on your desk. But as fate would have it, you couldn't do that.

"(Y/N/N)... Would you like to take a walk with me? It's almost our break. Maybe you could use a bit of fresh air? Scientifically, going outside helps to clear your lungs as well as lower blood pressure and heart rate." Spencer spoke up, tapping your shoulder gently once he knew he had your attention.

You shook your head and cleared your throat. "No… no I'm going to finish these reports first. They're more important." You start.

Spencer shook his head, his eyes widened slightly. "No," he starts, standing up and walking over to you. "These reports aren't more important than your well-being. I haven't pushed because I want you to talk when you're ready. But you can't act like you aren't important."

You scoff and go to reply, just as the sound of a slamming glass door echos through the bullpen, making everyone's eyes travel to the source of the noise. This also meant you.

By the time you looked, two familiar eyes were staring coldly into yours. Two wrinkled hands clasped at your shirt collar and yanked you forward violently.

"How dare you ungrateful-" Margaret quips, slapping you across the face before you could even react. "Selfish, and ignorant child!"

You cough harshly, earning the feeling of Margaret's hand again across your face. "M-mother…" you murmured, the agents around you trying to separate the two of you.

"No, you have gone too far now! I paid him to take you! You are his property! Go to him! I have lost too much for you to disobey like the brat of a child you've always been!" Margaret scrambled, trying to get out of the arms of a much stronger agent who held her back away from you.

Someone, who you soon recognized as Garcia and Emily, helped you to your feet. Spencer had very quickly come to your aide, sending Garcia off to fetch Rossi and Hotch.

You grumbled for a few moments, the anger you felt beginning to come to a head. "Really? You paid him? I thought he was just trying to get under my skin with that, Mother." You spat, taking a few steps forward before looking up into (e/c) eyes.

Your mother scoffed and rolled her eyes, looking back at you coldly. "Of course I did. You need someone to finally put you in your place. To teach you the manners I had somehow missed."

You growled at her continuance. Your fist clenched at your side. She was your mother. And this was what she chose to do? Instead of being by your side when you needed a mother most, she admitted to being a part of why you were raped in the first place.

"So you admit to selling a human? To selling your only daughter, just because I wouldn't abide to your stupid fucking rules?" You glared, spitting out the words like venom on your tongue.

Spencer went to stop you, but Emily pulled him back. You needed this.

"Yes I-" Margaret began, but you quickly put a stop to her excuses.

"No. You're going to let me share my opinion for ONCE in my life. You're going to stand there and face the monster that you created. Be the perfect housewife you insisted on creating with me."

Your mother rolled her eyes, but surprisingly didn't speak up again. You were slightly baffled by her sudden respect. But it didn't last long.

"You were never there for me when I needed you. When I was in the hospital, after what Peter did to me, I needed you. After Peter's threats, I needed you. After each low grade on a test, I needed you. Not the harsh yelling and lecture I received from you and father. I needed the reassurance that it wasn't the end of the world. Whenever I had nightmares from my never ending memory bank of trauma, you sent me back to bed with the flick of your hand. I remember every word, every scowl, every upturn of your nose, every single moment you've spared for me my entire life. You're lucky I don't charge you with assault and child abuse. I don't because you're my mother. I thought maybe one day…" you feel the hot, rushing tears fall from your cheeks, making you aware of your vulnerability in front of everyone.

You sniffled and wiped your eyes before you continued. "T-that maybe one day you'd change. And I-I'd have my mom." A tearful smile formed on your face, staring at the woman who had cause so much of your misery. "But still, you choose to remind me of how unimportant I've always been. How I am just a pawn in your game of chess. Easily disposable. Well here's a reality check for you, Margaret." You snapped, pointing a finger against her chest.

"Check. Cause I'm not going to rest until you and Peter are both sent to prison where you both so clearly belong!" You yell into her ear. "So much for motherly love." You whisper harshly afterwards, turning around so that she didn't get the satisfaction of seeing you fall apart.

Hotch entered your vision soon after, gesturing for you to meet him in his office. You sigh shakily, squeezing your eyes shut.

Spencer stops you for a moment, holding your arms. "H-hey… you don't have to go immediately, you know. You can stay for a minute."

You recognize his extended olive branch and take it. He didn't need to even say another word for you to collapse into his arms, sobbing as hard as your heart had been begging to since you'd left the hospital that morning.

Oh how the mighty have fallen.

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helpinghanikan · 4 years

Text

Their blood-bag

Marvel (and Matt Murdock) x Reader

Sum: Call it a disease, call it a curse or even call it a gift, in the end it's all the same. Vampirism has taken hold of your man, of your woman, and it’s time to deal with it.

Steve Rogers:

It’s a secret that goes deeper than anything Hydra could have ever done. There’s a reason the serum could never be perfected again, as it wasn’t just science Erskine had dipped into. And his soul might be somewhere other than Heaven for the things he had done to perfect it.

The “special” food he always eats, the late-night missions and the artificial lighting used in any and all pictures. It all slaps you at once, in the middle of the night when the bed is cold again and you shouldn’t get out of bed. You still do, you walk the few steps in the apartment to a living room where the darkness holds it steady.

He’s there, but only as an outlined shape on the couch. There’s a square in his hands, a book that’s been randomly appearing throughout the apartment. In the darkness you see his eyes, the ones that should be blue. But now they’re wrong, just wrong enough that you stare for longer than you should have. Long enough for him to look up and to know what you do.

What was your plan after finding him in the dark? Confront him, ask him to change as if this was simply some sort of addiction he could overcome? None of that could happen.

Instead you stand in the doorway, staring. Steve sets his book to the side, closing it softly and saying your name just as gentle. You don’t know if he started to get to follow you, as you had already gotten back into bed. Closing your eyes and pretending that ignorance was still your entire world.

Tony Stark:

In the past ten to fifteen years Tony has seen more magic, unexplained occurrences and straight up weird shit then any normal human ever could. That being said, there was still a scientific explanation for everything. For almost everything.

When it doesn’t there was a problem. There was no medical reason for blood to sustain someone, or how rapidly his fingernails grew. Strange had agreed with him,

“Nope, there isn’t a medical reason for it.” He had said, dropping Tony’s hands after being forced to look at them. “It’s a magical reason, Stark. Dumbed down version; you’re a vampire. Think of it like an STD.”

If you had your own time machine you’d go back and stop Stephen from describing it like that. You can’t prove it, but this could be one of the reasons you haven’t been together recently. Not just in the terms of sex, but cuddling, hugging even a kiss on the cheek he’d give when he had to leave for something. All of that was gone; replaced with a dodging head and a smile that couldn’t come close.

Thor:

Since the infection Thor has taken trips to New Asgard once a month. Never outright telling anyone where he was going. He’s just not next to you one night and returns the following evening. It’s only through Brunnhilde that you even know where he is. Not that she is any better with texting or technology, at least she answers.

You offer for him to simply use you, save himself a trip and all that. But he’s bounced around the reason why for a while, until you make the only logical conclusion. “Are you saying that the Asgardians can handle you, while I can’t?”

“Yes,” He says, “But it’s not just you. Midgardians are naturally weaker in comparison.”

The microaggression aside your relationship had shifted slightly because of this. He would always say no to your request with little more explanation then he already has. Like he was speaking to a determined little kid who just didn’t understand that it wasn’t healthy to lick the swing-set seat.

This was another common factors about Midgardians; you were a determined people. Even when it wasn’t healthy. You continued to mention, to ask, to ask that he at least tries to save himself a trip.

The simple fact is you wouldn’t be able to handle his hunger. His strength was already almost too much in bed, how would you handle it when the safe word doesn’t work?

Bucky Barnes:

These are side-effects from the experimental serum. With the strength and speed came the hunger. Something added to the concoction to make his targets something he needs to obliterate, that it would feed him and keep him aligned no matter what.

Now, free from those monsters and masters, he still feels it poking at the back of his mind. Shaking his head to scramble the thoughts, but they form again and talk again and again.

That his target smiles at him almost every day, that you hold his hand and stay close and sleep beside him almost every night does not help. But he has control. He has enough control to allow you close. Enough to kiss you and drag his teeth along your neck without breaking the skin.

It’s easiest when he can’t see your face. When you’re just another bit of walking life he can fuck and touch and mean nothing. It’s seeing you; your face, your voice, your eyes that he feels the hunger. But not to simply obliterate, he wants a drink and he wants you forever.

Natasha Romanoff:

The change happened and life moved on.

“Nothing really changes because of this,” Natasha had said, focusing on the TV screen instead of you. “Missions are now at night and I never get a shake again, that’s all. Nothing I can’t handle.”

You really shouldn’t have brought it up. Not when it’s a chill night where no one is expected to call and all that matters was the next episode to watch. But you had to say something, asking how she’s doing. When you didn’t like the answer, a little more digging had to be done.

In the recent weeks the only time you’ve seen that blush in her cheeks was while she drank from her solid cup. It was bright orange with a black straw that hid it’s contents. A stark contrast from the see-through glass cups she used to drink her shakes through. That cup sat on the coffee table in front of you. Blending in with your own cup of the same make, but blue instead of orange.

Her bare legs across yours were smooth and soft as you gently caressed them. She faintly smelled like raspberries from the expensive body-wash (one of Nat’s few vices) you would borrow sometimes.

“Don’t lie to me,” You say, focused on the delicious legs that you squeezed. Either as a massage or as your personal stress ball.

She looks at you now. Although her eyes are the same color the difference was still there. Maybe a little more shine, or the pupils were naturally wider than a regular human, it’s hard to tell.

“It sucks, it really fucking sucks and there’s I or you can do.” She says, her hand on the back of your neck. “Nothing we can do; we just have to keep going. But it’s going to be okay, okay?”

You don’t agree, but you also don’t argue. It’s not going to be okay, these things will never be, but there’s no use in arguing. Anyone in your position would wish for something different. Anyone would wish for the hand on your neck, and the legs in your lap, to be at least a little warm.

T’challa:

His people had a special word for it, but you couldn’t really pronounce it. This word described it in both the realm of science and in legend. The Queen mother had explained it to you as a legend, a small curse that sometimes happens when the Heart-shaped herb is taken in. That he’ll be stronger than others before him, but it came at a price of being forever hungry and a creature of the night.

Shuri had explained it medically but gave nothing that the Queen Mother didn’t already say. That this hunger was just a side-effect of the herb. Panthers before him had the same problem, that they handled it through ‘volunteers’ and enemies alike.

This was your new responsibility. Now more then the partner to The panther, partner to the king. You were his volunteer that sat in a chair twice a day, your own little throne in the corner of Shuri’s lab. With a tube leading into your arm and a nice glass of orange juice on the other side.

T’challa has only seen you in the throne once. When he was meandering about his kingdom, just happening to stop by the lab when you were down there. His steps now quieter than the “sneak-ers” Shuri could have made. There wasn’t a chance that you’d notice he was in the same room, not until the glass was empty that you bothered looking up. Seeing T’challa but not having enough time to say anything before he was gone again.

Pietro Maximoff:

A thumping heart beats faster then a stationary one. Be it from fear, or excitement or an orgasm, that moment was the best to take a bite. This thought first came to Pietro’s mind when a particularly scary moment came during a movie. Although you wouldn’t admit to being scared, his light fingers on your pulse told another story.

By the time he got you back in the car your pulse had leveled out. Annoyance on both your parts at Pietro not being able to hide his disappointment.

It was only an hour or two later that he found your pulse racing again. When your back was pressed against his chest and a hand under your knee kept it raised. Toes in the air curling and flexing in a way that made language a very hard thing to comprehend.

Your pulse is lighting up from his hold under your knee. The physical equivalence of a heavenly aroma coming from a freshly baked pie.

Just like the cartoon characters he was compared to, he couldn’t resist. The bite on your shoulder was an extra piece of weight pressed on the already crushing sensation of your orgasm. Although you had barely noticed the bite Pietro had drank his fill from just a few minutes of your groans and moans.

Falling face first into sleep after words was a rarity for you. Waking up with drool on your pillow and chin, and a headache that could be compared to a hangover.

Guilt was evident on Pietro as he was quick to get you a water, some breakfast from wherever, anything, anything at all. What he was guilty about, you didn’t exactly know at that moment. Making a mental note to interrogate him later. For now you would just enjoy the pampering.

Peter Parker:

Something was up with Peter; he had expressed this to you a few times. Mentioned a few times to his friends and to Aunt May that he wasn’t feeling too hot.

And feeling hot he was not. The exact opposite of a fever was happening as you placed a hand to his forehead. Aunt May keeping him from school and you keeping him from anything else. To keep an eye on him Aunt May would bring him to some of her shifts at the hospital. Parking his butt in the On-call room and stopping in whenever she could.

Stopping by the hospital Aunt May caught you coming in. Arms carrying the homework he was missing and the books you were going to force him to read. She, as every time, thanked you for coming and spoke in an almost whisper.

“Thank you so much for coming again, I really appreciate this.” She says, looking around like a secret mission while digging through her pocket. Handing off a key to the apartment, newly minted. “Would you mind taking him home? I’m gonna be late and I think Julian is going to snitch if Peter’s here any longer.”

“Sure thing, Aunt May, I’ll take care of him.” You say, off to your mission.

The key to getting in at any hospital is to walk like you know where you’re going. Even if you don’t, and you’re in the wrong building, walk like you own the place, like you have something important to tell the president, like someone just back talked your woman-folk. This was the sure-fire way to not be stopped. Even when walking into a room specific for staff.

The few days before you would walk in to see brown hair keeping out from the side where Peter would be sitting. Almost catatonic staring at the TV or magazine that the room provided. This time there was someone different, accidentally walking around the couch to find a medical intern dozing off where your man should have been. Making eye-contact and quickly turning away was the entirety of that interaction.

The bathrooms was the next train of thought where Peter could have been. Your stride had slowed but stayed strong as you walked to the bathrooms. Knocking a few times on the boys before you peeked your head in, nothing.

The amount of time you spent wondering around the hospital was longer than anyone would have liked to admit. Your strides losing the momentum of an important person walking through their halls to a confused, lost, girl trying to find an invisible boy.

It’s only after passing a door in the deep reaches of the hospital that you stop for a second. Perhaps hanging out with Peter had gotten you some second-hand spidey-sense. Even if that wasn’t the case, opening the heavy door the same color of white as the walls was the key to your missing man.

He sits in the cold storage room with his legs open and empty bags around him. At one point the shelves were probably full with red bags hanging up, waiting to be put to use. Now the bottom two rows were practically empty as Peter bit into the top like an ice cream cone. Instead of white or chocolate smearing his face it was thin red color covering the lower half of his face.

Seeing you in the doorway, look of shock and horror on your face, he didn’t stop drinking. His eyes were wide and sad while staring up at you. Like a little kid that broke his arm and was standing at the kitchen door, waiting for Mom to notice and help. His eyes were starting to glisten, and tears were on the edge of his eyes, spilling over and cleaning streaks down his cheeks.

The pattern almost writing ‘help me’ on his cheeks.

Stephen Strange:

It wasn’t that he exactly lied, he just didn’t tell you what was going on. Brushing off all of your concerns as nothing more then a “little disease, nothing major” that you stupidly trusted. The man was so confident in his control of the situation that he would even ask you to grab him one of his “drinks” when you would grab yours from the fridge.

It’s only when he gets a little too cocky that you find out. An actual blood bag with a damn twisty straw coming out of it rested in his hand while working on a laptop.

“How long has this been going on?” You demand, as if his condition was the same to having an affair. “Stephen, how long?”

The worst part was how he didn’t seem to be ashamed about his secret. Only closing his laptop when you wouldn’t him brushing the issue off. Sitting with his hands in a steeple and looking at you while talking.

“It’s been three months, almost four.” He explains. “While scouting another realm a creature, something like a bat, latched onto me. I returned and the symptoms started a few days later.”

“The sore throat thing, that’s what it was? You fucked around with a multi-verse and got infected.” You say, making sure you were on the same page.

“Well, it was an actual sore throat.” He says.

“Stephen, stop.” You say, knowing that this wouldn’t be going anywhere. You would just become more upset while he wouldn’t understand what the problem was.

Matt Murdock:

Only once before could Matt remember not hearing anything. When the world was silent but the touch of everything was louder than a jet engine. That moment was created from pride and a specialized gunshot, and it was a moment in hell.

This one was created by ignoring a bite wound (a tetanus shot should have been good enough) and equally ignoring the changes in his body. By the time his heart slowed to nothing in the middle of the night it was too late. He was dead, but the hunger was alive.

It only became something more than an extreme annoyance when you had interfered. The knife you used cutting farther then you had meant to through the steak. Just deep enough to make you cry out. Dropping the knife and holding your hand. Sucking on the thick skin just below your thumb, turning away as if Matt could even see what was going on.

You could hear him get up from the couch, walking across the apartment to you.

“Cheap knife and cheaper steak, what’d did I expect.” You say, your wounded hand pulled away from your chest by Matt. “I doubt I’ll need stitches just a band-aid…What the actual fuck are you doing?”

His touch is as gentle as ever. Yet this did little to distract you from him lifting your hand to his mouth. Pressed so close under his nose that it smeared a bit of red on the underside of his nose.

“Mathew,” You say, concerned but not ripping your hand away yet.

It’s when his mouth opens, and he groans, that you try and pull away. His grip now stronger than vice could ever be. One hand holding your wrist, the other almost crushing your fingers. Keeping you from pulling away or escaping.

“Mathew, Matt stop!” Was the last thing he hears before going for a stronger source of the blood. Your smell of sweat and fear intoxicating as he bit into the crook of your arm.

Unlike last time the silence of the world wasn’t a terrifying thing that he screamed at. It wasn’t even something he noticed. All that mattered was the warmth and love and taste of everything on earth coming through his brain and right into his absolute core.

The neighbors have learned to stop caring about the noises that come from the Murdock apartment. With a blind man, brick walls and an almost constant stream of people coming in to yell at him the neighbors have learned to tune it out. A screaming woman from his apartment in the last months to years was also nothing new.

The only thing that could save you was the sating of his hunger. And that only happens after your legs have given out and voice is hoarse. Still muttering Matt’s name when he starts to hear once more.

Carol Danvers:

In all magic and the unexplained there is always a small amount of structure to be found. The specific set of rules that the creature or spell or whatever has to follow or be destroyed. One of these, pertaining to the vampire, was the sun.

A few minutes in the unforgiving rays and there shouldn’t be too much damage on the monsters. But a bite right to the hot, powerful source of the sun’s cousin? That’s a one-way trip to absolute obliteration.

Carol described the slight second of surprise the bastard had before exploding. She smiled and handed off your drink while trying to imitate the face it had made. Flopping back onto the couch next to you, mentioning that it had bitten her and then poof!

“You were bit by a vampire?” You ask, drink not yet touching your lips.

She nods, setting her bottle down with an almost aggressive click on the coffee table. Without her longer hair she couldn’t make a production of showing off her neck. Instead tilting her head to the side and pulling her shirt off of her shoulder. Showing two little dots of black on her neck. Gentle fingers touching the dots with a smile.

“I didn’t even notice until it exploded,” She says.

Leaning forward and then back you start to talk. “You were bit by a vampire, and you just came home like nothing? Babe, seriously?”

She looks at you for just a second before her face falls. “I didn’t get infected or anything…” But her eyes are looking else where for a second.

That was all you needed to know that she did not get tested or anything. Even with all the technology that could test anything. Shaking your head you stand up from the couch. Carol calling “Babe,” after you, not even considering what she could do differently.

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fireopal-tash · 3 years

Text

Pearl and Garnet finally talk with the Diamonds. It doesn't go as expected...

This happens at the same time as the previous chapter. At last there will be answers... Right?

Also, this is my AU, so some things will be different: Homeworld free form; Gem's history free form

(read chapter 6 first!)

CHAPTER 7 - ETERNAL DESTINY

That same morning, while Steven was still sleeping with Spinel and Amethyst was in her own room, the fusion and the pearl decided to visit Homeworld again. More than anything, it was to finally speak with the Diamond Authority, and thus contrast the information they obtained from the last time. Their first visit was interesting but not enough for them. Helping Steven, that was their priority. And the only way to achieve it is by talking to the same gems they were so afraid of -no matter how much they deny it-.

Today the palace seemed to be busier. Looking around, you could see gems of all colors and of all shapes walking from one place to another, some talking, others in silence, but all animated. Pearl, uncomfortable and not used to such a large and varied group in this place, moved closer to Garnet and hugged her arm.

"Pearl, calm down. No one is going to attack us."

"Easy for you to say. You can see what's going to happen with your future vision, but all I see is chaos and a mess. Years ago this would have been more than enough to piss off the Diamonds" she hissed, and then she shook her head "It still amazes me how much everything has changed..."

"All thanks to Steven" Garnet smiled softly, feeling pride wash over her. That made Pearl smile too. Her son had grown a lot, and she couldn't be happier for him. Then she sighed.

"But that thing about Gem Mates is something unexpected. I'm afraid how it might affect Steven. Spinel too" the pale gem paused, watching some amethysts shout happily among themselves, drawing the attention of other gems "Do you think she has anything to do with all this?"

"I don't know. I... I can't see much since Steven came back. Things have changed, and I can't even know what's going to happen anymore" explained the fusion. She was worried, but she also knew that they couldn't depend on her future vision. They had to trust Steven and whatever decisions he'll make from now on.

"I think we've arrived..." Pearl announced. Her hands on the fusion's arm dropped and she approached the white doors of White Diamond's room. At least some things don't changed. Pearl knocked on the door, deciding that this was better than entering without announcing their presence.

"Come in" came the voice, the doors opening and giving way to White's chamber. Said Diamond was in a yoga pose of sorts, somewhat tense. The giant opened her eyes, without changing her position. "Ah, the crystal gems. What about Steven and the amethyst?"

"They're at home," said Pearl with irritation. Garnet touch Pearl's shoulder, then took a few steps closer to the large diamond.

"We came here to talk about him, actually. We've been... investigating, and we suspect that Steven is infected by Gem Mates." Hearing those words, the doors to that room slammed shut, blocking the only exit there was and surprising the other two gems. Meanwhile, White was looking at them with a seriousness not very common in her.

"Where did you hear that term? And what makes you think Steven might have it?"

"In The Great Library on Gems and Their History," Pearl explained with some reluctance. Then she looked at her with a hard and firm gaze "We know about Tourmaline, Tanzanite and Moissanite. We know what happened to them."

"You" she stopped suddenly. White turned around, her shoulders shaking slightly. Then she spoke, without turning around, in a solemn voice "Steven is not affected by anything. Gem Mates is not a vulgar disease or a virus. It is... a part of the history of the gems that was lost after what happened with Tourmaline, Tanzanite and Moissanite. They weren't... They weren't to blame. I should have stopped this from appearing long before. I never thought..." this time she turned around, looking directly at Pearl and Garnet "Did you say Steven could have a Gem Mate?"

"He's... he's been feeling strange."

"As if he could feel someone else's emotions inside him, correct?" she lowered her gaze, almost sadly "Sounds right"

"What else can you tell us about that? How can we help Steven?" Garnet finally asked.

"Nothing" was White's decisive answer. "You cannot help him because nothing can be done. He will have to live with it. And above all, in no case let anything happen to his other half"

"His other half? And what will happen to him if something happens to his other half?" Pearl asked, dreading the answer. She was sure she read about it before...

"Little by little, very slowly, he will cease to exist. He will disintegrate until there is only an empty shell of who he was before, although who knows, since he is half organic" the diamond replied with an absent look. Her white pupils fixed on the crystal gems, still lost "You already have your answer. You can go now" The great doors opened, and as if something were moving them. Pearl and Garnet left, dumbfounded.

"Blue Diamond?"

"Oh, Steven's friends. Welcome" the blue gem invited them, finding herself alone at that moment, and surrounded by what appear to be many empty bubbles "Excuse the mess. I was... cleaning" With that said, she turned her attention to Pearl and Garnet, curious "Why have you come? I know you don't like Homeworld, and you don't like us" she was referring to all the diamonds "Is everything okay with Steven?"

"Steven is fine. But we wanted to know what can you tell us about the GemMates." And just like the other time, Blue acted affected upon hearing those words, turning away from them with an expression of anguish.

"How...?"

"Steven. We have been investigating, and we believe that Steven has a GemMate" announced Pearl, feeling some panic inside her when she saw another diamond react negatively. All the things she's read about this topic couldn't possibly be the reason, right? It seemed as if it was affecting them more than it should. Or maybe I'm being insensitive, Pearl thought with some pity.

"Out" Blue ordered, not wanting to talk about it. It has to been a joke, right? Steven couldn't...

"Running from the truth is not going to make it all go away" was the last thing Garnet said before they both left, leaving Blue alone, still affected by their words. Specifically the last sentence because she knew more than anyone that she could not run. Not forever anyway.

"My Diamond, Pink Diamond's Pearl and the Fusion" announced Yellow Pearl, leaving shortly after, knowing that this must be something personal and too important for two of the members of the Crystal Gems to be there.

"Steven is not here" was not a question "What do you want?" she folded her arms, beside her a screen with indecipherable writing.

"We wanted to talk about the GemMates" Pearl began.

"Out" she did not give them time to say more than that.

"Excuse me!?" exclaimed the pale gem in frustration "This is enough. Obviously you know something about this and you don't want to tell us. We have talked to White and Blue first. Why do you react like this?"

"A pearl like you... of course you don't know anything"

"We know about Tourmaline, Tanzanite and Moissanite," she countered.

"Like I said, you know nothing"

"Then tell us what you know in order for us to understand" Garnet asked quietly. Perhaps they would have better luck with Yellow if they were more patient and rational.

"If I tell you, will you go away?" They both looked at each other, then looked at Yellow and nodded in unison. The yellow diamond snorted, but sat down in her seat and began to narrate. "This started shortly after our creation"

"Our... You mean, all the Diamonds?"

"Not exactly, and don't interrupt me again or I'm not going to tell you anything more" that closed Pearl's mouth, who was going to ask something else. "As I was saying. When we were created we knew everything we had to do. Create more gems, colonize, collect and store all the information we obtain. And that we did. We followed the protocol. We created guardians to protect us, workers to build what you see around you and intellectuals so that they could archive everything that happened and what we learned. Then we created even more types of gems, until we couldn't find anymore jobs for more gems of different types. We just needed more soldiers to facilitate the process of colonization and expand our empire"

Pearl made as if to interrupt, but Garnet stopped her with a simple glance. Yellow continued as if nothing happened.

"During that time, we realized that there were gems that had a special connection with some of their... partners. And although at first we thought it would be a mere distraction and an easy weakness to exploit, we noticed that these gems obtained certain advantages. At least, that was the case until that the misfortune of The Fall"

The Fall? Pearl thought with some disbelief when she heard that title, knowing what she meant by that.

"Tourmaline, Tanzanite and Moissanite. The last two were created with the mark of destiny" her gaze became wishful "Tourmaline was not happy about the close proximity between Tanzanite and Moissanite. She shattered Tanzanite -Fusions were allowed back then- the diamond explained in between, as if saying, see? That was the reason Tourmaline really attacked "Moissanite wanted to shatter her old friend as retaliation. Everyone knew what happens when you lose your gem mate. Something similar happened with the first gems created with the mark of destiny. But that was not accidental. Not like this time. White had to punish them with the Vindicta. After that, me and Blue were created. Era 0 had ended with a misfortune but it began with a new opportunity. And the other gems created with the Mark were either destroyed, or... Well, surely you have an idea" she said that last part bitterly. She was not proud of those times. It was a mess back then, but also the stronger their empire had been.

"Thank you" Garnet got up, gesturing for Pearl to do the same.

"Uh... No need, I think" Yellow answered uncomfortably.

It was too late again, so late that neither of them expected to find Steven awake. Nor Spinel or Amethyst. That is why, when they heard music and voices in the background, they were so surprised that for long minutes they did not move from where they were standing, and shrouded in darkness.

"What do we...?" Pearl began with her hands clasped. Garnet shook her head.

"Let them have their fun, while they still can"

To be continued...

Notes:

I decided to upload two chapters in a row because I did not want to make my readers suffer more for not having written anything in such a long time. So HERE YOU HAVE CHAPTERS 5 and 6! \: D /

(and sorry for any mistakes I've made :'3)

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