#in the cage warehouse at the start

[purplemninja]

If Very Little Nightmares ever got a DLC where we play as Six (AKA if my fanfic ‘Six’s path’ became canon (like that’s ever going to happen)), then this is a feature that I’d want it to have.

The top picture is an example of Six finding and opening one of the jack-in-the-boxes. Plus this is my first time drawing most of the characters in these images, so I hope they look okay.

Do you have any favourite of these jack-in-the-boxes? (Or favourites if multiple) Comment which down below.

#little nightmares #very little nightmares #little nightmares fanart #little nightmares six #six #ln six #vln six #jack in the box #Six's path #Six's Shield #If Six were to find and open ALL of the boxes before reaching the garden where she teams up with RCG #then she'd find the Monster Six box before that point and think that Monster Six is meant to be RCG #but she'd be very confused about its very twisted appearance because she saw RCG three times by then #in the cage warehouse at the start #as she went across the top of the crates #and when RCG fell through the spider web #oh if only she knew who the twisted really was #or WILL be #and she'd find the flesh wall box somewhere on the way to the cliffs after RCG betrays her

[darkbluekies]

Yandere Silas x male reader bodyguard. Relationship:romantic

You and him grew up together in the mafia, Silas fell in love with you but you only saw him as a friend and he ends up falling in love with a girl and this makes you leave the mafia to go abroad with her to live a normal life.

Silas has contacts all over the world and discovers that you are in a country abroad, he kills the girl and kidnaps you

Be mine (you have no fucking choice)

Yandere!mafia oc x male!bodyguard!reader

Summary: after being friends with Silas for years, you decide that it is time to pack it up and leave, much to Silas’s dismay.

Warnings: criminal stuff, throwing up, getting drunk by force, ropes, cage, mentions of sleeping around, violence, alcohol

Word count: 4.3k

You put your gun into your belt and get out of the warehouse. 

“Hey, where are you going?” Silas asks and grabs your arm. 

“I’m going home”, you say. “This mission doesn’t interest me.”

You try to walk, but Silas hurries in front of you, blocking your way. He almost reminds you of the little, stubborn boy he once was when he does that. 

“Wait”, he says. “You never drive well after a mission. You have too much adrenaline. You and I can leave together. I can drive you to my house.”

“No, Silas, I’m going home.”

Silas doesn’t react to you calling him by his first name. But he never has. You are special. Only one other person in his entire organization can call him by his first name without getting a bullet through their eyes — that person being his second in command. You and his second in command have known Silas longer than anyone else. You’d dare call his second in command your friend too, although on a more professional level. 

You’ve known Silas longer than his second in command has, and you’ve known his little brother, Ares … and you’ve known about his jealousy for a very long time. It started when you one day went home with his brother to play video games after shool. Next day when you entered school, his brother had a black eye and Silas had not left your side for the entire day. 

It only got worse from there, but you never did anything. You tried to talk to him, but it seemed like the years made him even more jealous. He dated girls time and time again, but created a big fuss when you showed the slightest interest in anyone — be that boy or girl. You became the third wheel in SIlas’ multiple relationships.

He did admit to his love for you, just a few years ago, but you couldn’t reciprocate his feelings. It would make everything harder. You were basically working for him as his bodyguard and didn’t want to ruin the friendship you had with him. Losing him as a friend could mean both mental distress … and physical harm. 

“Does this have anything to do with the girl I’m dating?” Silas asks. 

You look baffled. “No? Why would you think that?”

“Because she’s at the house?”

“No, I just want to go home”, you sigh heavily. “Why do I have to explain my every step to you? You’re not my father, come on.”

“Because I’m worried about you.”

“What a great look for you, mister mafia leader. Don't let anyone else see that.” You nod at him to move. “Move out of the way now, I’m tired and I’m hungry. I want to go home and order a fucking pizza.”

“So this has nothing to do with my girlfriend?”

“What's the matter with you? Are you trying to make me jealous or something? I'm not interested in you, you know that.”

You push past him.

A month passes. You have been seriously thinking about leaving the mafia for a long time now, but ever since Silas got himself yet another girlfriend it became clear that you have to leave, if you ever want to get yourself one of your own. As long as you stay with him, he will never let you date anyone — apart from him, of course. 

You’ve decided to move abroad. While packing your bags, you feel tears run down your cheeks. You have known Silas for as long as you can remember. You love to be with him, he is your best friend. Betraying him would mean betraying yourself, and his entire organization. People who betray him gets killed personally by Silas. Neither you or Silas would want that.

However, leaving without anyone noticing would be hard. Silas would know that something was wrong right away and he would use his contacts to find you again. You’d need help with creating false documents … and you knew just the man to help with that. 

You hold the phone to your ear. 

“Hello?” a familiar voice asks. 

“Hi, Ares”, you say. 

“How the fuck did you get my number?”

“I did some digging.”

“Holy fuck, Y/N, you need help.”

You chuckle and hear how Ares chuckles in return. 

“What did you want?” he asks. 

“I need some help.” You look around, feeling like you’re being watched, which wouldn't be very far off. “Can we meet up?”

“Sure. Now?”

“If you can.”

“Yeah, I’m not busy.”

You decide to meet up at a café an hour away from your house, hoping that Silas’s associates wouldn’t recognize you here. You couldn’t believe that you would meet Ares again, you haven't seen him since you were teenagers. He looks the same, just a bit more grown up. 

“My brother finally removed the leash around your neck?” Ares chuckles and hugs you. 

“No, not really”, you sigh. “This is why I need your help. I know that you scam tight about everyone. And I need you to help me create false documents, passport … yeah, you name it.”

Ares smirks.

“Little Y/N is going on vacation, I see”, he says. “Where are you going?”

“I don't know.”

“Are you trying to get away from my brother?”

You nod. Ares seems to think for a moment. 

“Go to Spain”, he says. “Silas is banned from there, he won't be able to get you.”

“Ah, I feel so bad about it, though”, you sigh and run your hands through your hair. “He's my best friend. And boss, technically. If I leave, I betray both my best friend and his organization … and then he has the right to kill me.”

“Wait, you're planning to leave the mafia? For real?”

“I don't want to, but I can't live like this. I want to have my own life. I'm a grown man now, the window for opportunities is closing every year.”

“I'll go with you. I'll protect you.”

“You don't have to, Ares. Look at me, I'm capable of taking care of myself.”

You were Silas’s bodyguard, after all. No weak person gets that position. 

“Yes, I know”, Ares says. “But I can help. And you don't have to be lonely.”

“You are an ass too”, you remind him.

“Better than Silas, though.”

You scoff and roll your eyes.

Ares comes with you to Spain. He has given you false documents with new names and nationalities. You sit together at the airport with your phone in your hand. Your stomach is turning.

“I really should tell him”, you sigh nervously. “I don't want to just leave. I have known him for years. I might betray him work wise, but I can't betray him friend wise. I'm going to call him.”

“I don't think you should”, Ares says. “He has been awful to you, why does he deserve your goodbye?”

You groan and hide your head between your knees. Ares brushes his hand through your hair.

“Come on, sweetie, let it go”, Ares encourages you. “Your new life starts soon. Beach, sun and alcohol, all day long.”

You want to tell him that you don't drink, but decide to leave it be. 

“I have to go to the bathroom”, you excuse yourself and stand up to walk away.

But you don't go to the bathroom stalls. You stand by the large windows at the gate and call Silas.

“Hi, Y/N”, he says.”I haven't heard from you in a little while. I was about to go over to your house and drag you over to mine, because I miss you.”

“I have to talk to you about that”, you say,  hesitantly. “I am not at home, and I probably won't be back.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I'm really sorry that I have gone behind your back, but I am actually leaving … going abroad. And it might be permanent.”

“Have you hit your head?”

“I'm really sorry for betraying you, Silas, you’re my best friend … but frankly, you're always stopping me from getting my own family, while you brag about the women you fuck. I need to get away, at least for a while and get to try to find love. It might not be permanent, but I don't know.”

“Where are you going? You know that you can't leave the country without me knowing. The second any of your credit cards, passport or anything along that way is being used, I'm notified.”

“Well I'm not fucking stupid. I have fixed that.”

Silas scoffs out a mocking laugh.“You don't know how to do that.”

“I had help.”

“From who?” He doesn't sound that cocky anymore.

“Ares.”

Silence. 

“Oh, you can't be fucking serious”, Silas says. 

You can't detect what emotion he's feeling. Perhaps everything all at the same time. Maybe it was a wrong decision to call him before your flight, but the guilt would have eaten you up the entire way there.

“I am”, you answer, trying your best not to let your voice shake. 

“You know what kind of asshole he is, Y/N”, Silas tells you. 

“I have done stuff too, I’m no angel either.” You sigh, shaking your head. “I just called to let you know that I am leaving. I didn’t want you to hear that from anyone else, I wanted you to hear it from me personally. This is a goodbye, Silas — at least for now. Thank you.”

“Y/N-”

You hang up and turn off your phone before returning to Ares who’s sipping on a beer by the gate, where you left him.

When you’re allowed to board the plane, you’re already nauseous. What if it wouldn’t work? What if you changed your mind? You already felt bad. Ares puts his hand on your shoulder while you walk through the middle of the plane, trying to find your seat. Ares takes the aisle seat. 

“Thank you for giving me the window seat”, you chuckle. “I feel like a kid all over again.”

“Well, I can’t let random folks touch you, can I?” Ares responds. “I’m a gentleman after all.”

Ares sits with his phone up the entire flight, working. You know all about his dirty business, how he scams people left to right with his false businesses. 

You fall asleep for a while. Your body has been in a tense position the entire day and finally, you were out of reach. He couldn’t create a storm or shoot down a passenger plane, he wasn’t a God or a military flighter. He is nothing more than a man with a bit too much power for his own liking. And hybris. A whole lot of hybris. Ares turns off his phone to look at you. He smiles slightly. For years, he has tried to take you from Silas. You didn’t want him, but Silas was too selfish to let you be put on the market. He wanted you available at all times, for when the timing was right. Ares stopped trying to reach out to you after a while, knowing that it was pointless, thought that if you wanted to get back in touch with him, you would reach out — and you did. Ares lets his eyes wander over you. He has tried to match your physique, but had no chance against the hours you’ve had to spend at the gym to be able to be Silas’s bodyguard. But under all those muscles, you are nothing but a softie, and that’s why Ares wants you … and Silas too, unfortunately. He always has to compete with his brother over toys they both want.

Silas scoffs angrily and runs his hand through his black hair, and yet he can’t stop himself from laughing. It’s absurd! All of it!

“Why are you laughing, boss?” his second in command asks shortly. “This is nothing to be happy about.”

“I fucking know that?” Silas snaps back. “Do you think I enjoy knowing that my Y/N is on a plane with my psycopathic brother going to fuck knows where?”

“There are not a lot of places he could go to, though. Think about it.”

“I can’t fucking think! Y/N is leaving me!”

“Silas, sit down before you faint, ‘kay?”

Silas, oddly enough, listens and sits down on the couch in his study with his hands gripping the fabric beside him. His second in command stands in front of him with his hands on his hips. 

“Listen”, he says. “Ares would fuck with you, right?”

“Right”, Silas responds. 

“Which countries are you banned from?”

“Spain, England, Germany, the Netherlands and Ireland.”

“So, one of those countries.”

“But which?!”

“His favorite. Which one is the warmest?”

“Spain?”

“Bingo.”

Silas’s eyes widens and he breaks out into a shocked smile. Why didn’t he think about this? Ares isn’t smart.

“...how the fuck do I do this?” he realizes. “I can’t just take a plane into Spain without being arrested the second I step off the plane. We will need another way. We could get a boat and sneak in.”

“I’ll see what I can do, boss.”

“Do it quickly, I know my brother and he will take what I want. If he does, I will never forgive myself.”

The reason why Silas has never let you date anyone is because he wants what can only be had one way, your innocence. 

He sighs and walks out of the room where he finds the woman he’s dating standing with her hands together, looking worried. A certain rage takes over him. The sight of her had made you want to leave. He knows very well that it isn’t her fault, but he can’t help but think that it is. Her existence has put you in a position of discomfort, and for that, she has to pay. Silas doesn’t want to look at her, it only makes him nauseous. 

He pulls up his gun from his belt, and without a second thought, he fires off and watches the innocent girl’s limp body hit the floor. But for now, he can’t bring himself to feel bad. 

He has to find you. Ares is only nice as long as you're on his side, if you want to disagree with him, he's going to strip you off everything. You just don't know how horrific Ares could be.

Your first few days in Spain couldn’t be more than idyllic — if it weren’t for the fact that you look over your shoulder wherever you go. You scan the areas for familiar faces of Silas’s gang. 

“Relax, will you?” Ares says and hooks his arm around your shoulders. “Just enjoy the scenery instead.”

“I think I’m going insane”, you mutter. 

“A shot will help with that.”

“I don’t drink, you know that.”

Ares just smiles. You’re on your way back to the house from a restaurant Ares had treated you to. It was obviously a date, but you didn’t know how to tell him that you wanted to take things slow. Ares has never been a patient man … and you aren’t even sure if Ares is the person you want to date currently. Frankly, thanks to Silas, you don’t know what you want to do yet. You’ve only gotten your freedom to do whatever you want a few days ago, and it’s more overwhelming than you expected. 

“Do you want to come to my room?” Ares asks when you get to the front door. “We don’t even have to do anything, we can just watch TV.”

“I start to believe that the only reason you wanted to come with me on this trip was to get me in bed”, you scoff and put the keys in the lock. 

“Not only-”

“Ares, go to the bar and pick up someone there instead.”

“I can’t leave you alone, I told you that I was going on the trip to protect you.”

“And i told you that I didn’t need protection. If you’re horny, go.”

Ares sighs and gives up. “Fine, call me if you need me.”

“I’ll be fine, I’m tired.”

Ares nods and gives your back a tap before walking back the way you came from. You unlock the door, going into the house. In the corner of your eye, you can tell that something is moving. Instantly, you go into attack mode, but freezing when you notice who it is that is standing up from the armchair.

“I feel like a dad catching their underage kid sneaking in after a night out”, the second in command says. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” you question. 

The second in command jerks his head. “Fucking guess.”

“Did Silas really send you because he can’t enter the country?” you laugh. “That’s so tragic.”

“Laugh all you want, you’re not the one that have been on a small fucking fishing boat for twelve hours straight!” He collects himself and sighs. “I will give you one chance to come with me voluntarily before I beat your head in.”

You scoff and cross your arms over your chest. “Try me.”

Silas must have equipped his second in command with things he knew that you wouldn’t be able to combat, because in one way or another, you lose consciousness. 

You wake up in a dark, cold room. At once, you try to move your hands to your eyes to rub them clean from drowsiness, but quickly notice how your hands are tied to something behind you. That’s when you realize that you’re stuck in a cage the size of a garden shed, in — what looks like — a cargo hold. Your hands are tied to one of the cage’s bars behind you. Your head is pounding from the hit his second in command had given you. 

“Look at that, he’s finally waking up”, a familiar voice says. 

“So we don’t need the water?” his second in command asks. 

“Let’s keep it.”

Silas walks into the cage, crouching down in front of you. He takes a hold of your chin, directing your head whichever way he wants. 

“You gave him a bump the size of mount everest”, Silas mutters over his shoulder. 

“He’s a trained fighter”, his second in command replies. “I had to do what I had to do, you know?”

“I guess.”

Silas lets go of your pounding head. You groan softly, feeling out of your own body, while still being trapped inside the cage. You start to cough and Silas grabs the bucket of icy water, holding it to your mouth. At first, you gulp it down … and then realize that it was sea water. You throw it up, right back into the bucket. Silas gives the bucket to his second in command, telling him to throw it out.

“That was fucking disgusting”, you grimace and gag. 

“You kind of deserve it.” He fixes your hair that has started to stick onto your forehead. “Why did you do that to me, Y/N?”

“You didn’t let me have my own life. I was living yours, as a side character.”

“You betrayed me.”

You meet his brown — almost black — eyes and feel your heart sink. You have never seen such sadness in his eyes before. 

“I know”, you say and turn down your gaze. “I felt really bad about it. I know the rules, and I won’t make a fuzz about it, but can I beg of you that it won’t be you who kills me? I don’t want that to be our last memory together.”

Silas seems to be taken aback. 

“I’m not going to kill you”, he says. “In fact, no one is.”

“But I betrayed you-”

“I know, but I can’t kill you.”

“You can’t bend the rules, or else you’ll get a mutiny.”

“Who said that I was letting you off the hook?”

You watch how Silas walks out of the cage, picks something up from the floor, and returns with a bottle in his hands. 

“I know that you are strong”, he says, popping the bottle open, “and violent. So, I’m going to keep you calm for the rest of the journey to Portugal. Open your mouth.”

“What is that?” you ask suspiciously, eyeing the bottle wearily. 

“Vodka.”

You shake your head quickly. “That’s so foul-”

“I did not ask for your opinion.”

He puts the opening of the bottle to your lips and you try to turn your head, but Silas forces you to drink. With one hand, he holds the bottle, and with the other he holds your chin to make sure that you can’t turn away. You have no other choice but to swallow the burning liquid. He doesn’t let you stop until half the bottle are gone. You cough and gag, but can’t throw up. 

“You absolute fu—fucking—”, you cough. 

“Calm down, baby boy, it’s just some vodka”, Silas says nonchalantly and takes a sip. “Good for your heart.”

He puts his hand on your heavily raising chest, trying to calm your breathing and feel your racing heart. The alcohol turns your body heat up and you want nothing more than for that bucket of water to come back. 

“My right hand man will be here to make sure that you’re not sober for a single second”, Silas says and stands up. 

“You can’t fucking leave me like this!” you burst out. 

“Then stop me.”

You fight against the ropes and Silas smirks triumphantly before leaving the cargo hold.

The second in command came in every half an hour to give you new sips. You tried to refuse, but with your hands locked behind your back and head spinning with alcohol, there wasn't much you could to to stop him.

You haven't drank anything since you were a young teenager and the rocking motions of the sea wasn't helping you. You refused to throw up again, refused to give them the satisfaction of seeing you in such a state next time they entered.

You hated alcohol even worse now. Fuck Silas. 

After what felt like hours — in your drunken state it could very well have been days, or minutes — you couldn't take it anymore.

“Silas!” you shout and your tone goes to a whining, slurred melody. “Silas!”

You've never felt so helpless.

Silas enters with his second in command tightly behind him. He enters the cage and crouches down in front of your pathetic form.

“What?” he asks, cupping your cheek.

“Please stop”, you beg and sob, but you're not sure if the tears come from the heart or the alcohol. “Please …I will do what you want …”

Silas grabs the back of your sweaty neck and directs your wet face into his shoulder, letting you cry. You can feel that your hands are freed from the ropes.

Silas picks you up, carrying you up to the decks above water. His second in command holds your head so that you won't smash it against one of the sharp corners. 

Silas tucks you into a bed and leaves you to rest. You can see the shining sun outside the round porthole window as you fall asleep. 

He walks out onto the deck of the fishing boat and smirks.

“What?” his second in command asks.

“I'm not single anymore”, Silas chuckles.

“You won again, congratulations. Will you put Y/N into the basement?”

“He can handle that. But most important thing is that he's coming home where he belongs, and there won't be any more childish outbursts.”

“What happened with your brother, by the way?”

“Who cares? I don't want to meet him anyway, so the less I need to deal with him, the better.”

When the fishing boat reaches Portugal, you are dragged to a car and to the airport. You don't say much. Silas disregard for your hate of alcohol and childish behavior has put you off. If it weren't for the fact that you are hus prisoner now, you wouldn't be his friend anymore.

Silas’s private jet stands ready on an empty field. He holds your arm as he pushes you up the stairs. You rip your arm from his hold.

“I can walk by myself, let me go”, you mutter.

Silas sighs. You sit down in a seat opposite Silas and cross your arms.

“You are glaring at me”, Silas says without glancing up from his phone.

“I'm just trying to determine if you have brain cells”, you spit.

“Aren't you a fun lad?”  

“Where is my phone, by the way?”

“Like sharp objects and weapons should be: far away from you.”

“Oh, I see. You're going to treat me like a child.”

“Y/N, I'm not an idiot. I trained you, I know how dangerous you are with weapons. You are even more violent than I am at times.”

“Obviously with good reasons.”

Silas glances up from his phone. You twitch your eyebrows testingly. You might not have your weapons, but your tongue is still sharp. 

Being in a relationship with Silas might be more interesting than you thought, and Silas sure as hell will realize that you're not going down without a fight.

“Your girlfriend, then?” you question. “What does she think?”

“Frankly, she can't think a lot at the moment”, Silas responds, turns off his phone and luts it on the table between you. 

You get the hint immediately. 

“Killing her was unnecessary”, you say.

“Running away from me was unnecessary too”, Silas adds.

“This is going to be a stable relationship.”

“It will be the second you stop with the childish attitude.”

While keeping eye contact, you push his phone off the table. Silas eye twitches as he bends down to get it.

“You're going into the basement when we get home”, he says.

“Can I hit back? Or are you going to have full control and tie me up again? Is that the only way you can win over me? With me being completely helpless?”

“Oh, shut the fuck up before I let you ride on the airplane wing.”

“Sounds good to me.”

You stare at each other, and you refuse to look away first. You're going to make him regret imprisoning you.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere drabbles #yandere oc x you #yandere mafia #yandere fics #yandere oc x reader #yandere stories #yandere oneshots #yandere criminal #male reader

[polarspaz]

Drake AU

Despite having difficulty with controlling his transformations, Tim hasn't experienced any other major difficulties with his heritage. Sure, he's got some new lizard like quirks, but nothing in his personality has significantly changed.

That's what he thinks until he encounters his first dragon.

He's summoned to a deserted warehouse by Bruce, Jason, and Damian. The three had just busted a Black Market exchange that involved magical animals and they needed his help with one particular creature.

He agrees, he doesn't mind helping, but he can't stop feeling like something bad is going to happen. The closer he gets the warehouse, the worse it gets, and by the time he's outside the building, dark, billowing plumes of smoker are wafting from the corner of his lips.

He doesn't understand what the hell is wrong with him, but all he knows is that something inside this place makes him really, really angry. Taking a deep breath, he tries his best to briskly walk in and act totally unaffected.

Damian, Bruce, and Jason are standing next to a rather large cage and gesture for him to come over. He does, until he see what exactly is nestled behind the bars. A red dragon.

white, hot rage fills his chest and Tim's never changed form so fast in his life. A bellowing roar rips from his throat as fire spills from his jaws. The dragon makes a horrid shriek and slams into the back of the cage, trying it's best to put as much distance as it can between itself and Tim.

Tim wants nothing more than break into that feeble cage and tear the frantic beast apart but he doesn't really get a chance too. Bruce throws a smoke grenade, starting Tim enough for Jason to barrel into him, pick him up like some oversized dog, and dart out the building.

It takes Tim a moment to collect himself and change back into human as Jason tries to regain his breath beside him. "We called you over here to see if you could talk to the damn thing! Not eviscerate it's guts and burn it to crisp!" Jason snaps. He trying to sound nonchalant but Tim can still hear the concern hidden in his voice.

Tim can only let out a small, nervous laugh. "Sorry Hood. Looks like Drakes and Dragons don't get along well."

((Drakes and Dragons do not mix in this AU. While dragons were somewhat big, they were more nimble than Drakes and could fly. However Drake were WAY bigger, way tougher, and way more aggressive. In fact most dragon deaths were caused by Drakes.))

#drakeau #my art #tim drake #dragon #dc comics

[cluelessrebel1988]

A not fully formed Fall of the House of Usher thought

I just binged the whole series yesterday, and I have a number of thoughts about things, but this is one that kind of just came to me, so it's not fully fleshed out.

But I found it interesting that Verna was largely hands off with Perry, Camille and Frederick, mostly leaving them to their own devices to play out the circumstances of their deaths which ultimately look to the outside world like tragic accidents. Perry's death was entirely of his own making, all she did with Camille was (maybe) open the cage to let the chimp out, and of the three, she was most hands-on with Frederick, pushing him to put the paralytic in his cocaine to trap him in the warehouse and then sending in the call to start the demolition. She even offered Perry and Camille the chance to stop what they were doing and not go forward, and I suspect she would have done the same with Frederick were it not for what he did to Morelle.

But for Vic, Leo, and Tamerlane...Verna gives them a push. She inserts herself in their lives in ways that are, on the surface, fairly innocuous (a substitute prostitute, a woman working at an animal shelter, a patient with a heart condition), but all of those things set in motion a torment that leads to their deaths. Deaths that appear to be suicides to the outside world (and in Vic's case, literally was). Verna doesn't actively take their lives like she does with Lenore, but she steers them to their deaths sooner than they likely would have otherwise gotten there.

And my thinking is that this is meant to be representative of Madeline and Roderick's approach to life. Roderick charges in headfirst and doesn't care about the consequences, or at least doesn't think about them in the moment, while Madeline plays the long game, manipulating the situation from within and not revealing herself as the threat until after she's already struck the fatal blow.

The part that's not fully formed for me is which set of Usher children is meant to represent which, or if they're each meant to be a combination of both. My initial thought is Perry, Camille, and Frederick are meant to be representative of Roderick's approach to a problem, while Vic, Leo, and Tamerlane are representative of Madeline's. And that's the one that makes sense on the surface, at least in the actions of the children themselves. But at the same time, it could be argued that Verna not really actively doing anything to Perry, Camille, and Frederick, only showing up to them in their final moments when its too late is like Madeline, while the more hands-on approach with Vic, Leo, and Tamerlane is more like Roderick.

So I don't know, maybe it's both, or maybe I'm overthinking it. But if anyone else has any thoughts on this, I'd love to hear them.

#the fall of the house of usher #the fall of the house of usher spoilers #tfothou #tfothou spoilers #fall of the house of usher #fall of the house of usher spoilers #Verna #Roderick Usher #Madeline Usher #Frederick Usher #Tamerlane Usher #Napoleon Usher #Prospero Usher #Camille L'Espanaye #victorine lafourcade

[seravphs]

ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — GOJO x FEM READER 

Gojo deserves a trophy for winning his fight against Sukuna. You’re happy to deliver.

wc — 3.5k

tags — mdni, oral (m receiving) (sorry) but he makes it up to you, praise, possessive Gojo, vaguely inspired by fight club, violence (not towards reader), this is the result of me seeing the leaks so potential spoilers, banner art from Jen Mazza’s incredible Peripety collection, title from On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous by Ocean Vuong

You never get used to Getou’s lavish den of iniquity, no matter how long it's been since you were first indoctrinated. Indoctrination is the right word, because it's less club than cult. Once you’re in, you never get out. 

Hakari’s just finished throwing some stranger out on his ass when he spots you. He jogs a little to get to the warehouse doors before you can and pulls them open, grinning when you thank him and slip inside. There’s a certain level of respect afforded you as someone who runs in the right circles. 

It’s Getou’s name, of course. Yuuji and Maki and all of them, too. But mostly, it’s being known as Gojo’s girl that gives you the reputation you have. No one touches you without consequences. No one even looks at you the wrong way without consequences. Gojo’s the reason you can sail into this cage of violence and immorality without a care in the world. 

“Over here,” Getou shouts over the din as soon as you walk in. 

As the manager of this, whatever this is (half fight club, half business frat, full of the depraved elite), he likes to keep an eye on who’s in and who’s out. Both of the doors, and of consequence. You’re, of course, in. 

He hands you his drink. It’s something blue, tastes vaguely like gin. There’s an ice cube shaped like an eyeball in it, lining up with his weird tastes. You hand it back to him with a nasty shudder once you see the price tag, caught off the menu some politician is flipping through to your right. He’s making a killing off fleecing his spectators between the entrance fee and the drinks. 

“On the house, pretty girl,” he says. “Get whatever you want.” 

Even if Gojo has a soft spot for him, he’s playing a dangerous game. That doesn’t stop you from ordering, nursing your drink as you wait for the match to start. The rest of the audience sits on rickety chairs lined up in front of the makeshift ring. Getou guides you to the VIP booth at the front with only slightly less rickety chairs before he heads off. He’s a busy man, and there’s quite a lot to prepare before the match starts.  

At heart, he’s a businessman, priest costume be damned.  He certainly has the funds to pay for a better set up, but why would he? The ambience of this place does something for the crowd. The smokey lighting, the run-down furnishings, the suspicious stains on the floor - they all live for it. This place feeds off violence and corruption, a dangerous thrum through the baseline of it all promising depravity.  

You can’t lie and say it doesn’t enthrall you, too. 

Otherwise, you wouldn’t be as attracted to Gojo as you are. 

He leans against the ropes in one corner of the ring, a little too tall to relax fully. You can tell it’s irking him from the little tick in his jaw that you like to kiss away once his matches are over. His white hair is down instead of slicked up, a sure tell that he didn’t prepare for this. It flops into his eyes. He needs a haircut, you note fondly. 

He’s all long, lithe limbs and lean muscle. His shirt is already off, draped over the pole. There’s an easy confidence even to the way he waits, like a tiger stalking prey. It’s the attitude of a predator. He knows he’ll win. If there’s a doubt in the minds of anyone in the crowd, he’ll prove it tonight, just as he proved it for his past 5 matches. 

It’s a problem that Sukuna looks just as tough. He has the eyes, as Getou taught you to watch out for when he helped you place your first bet. You can always tell if a fighter is in it for the adrenaline or the money by looking at their eyes. Sukuna looks like he’s in it because he likes the taste of blood. You suppress the chill that goes through you. 

Gojo’s little prodigies are seated next to you when they arrive, three of them in a neat little row. It makes you smile. Megumi protests any assumption that he cares for the man who took him in after he was orphaned, but he shows up to every single match without fail. The trio follow their mentor around like little ducklings to their mother, hoping to soak up every last drop of strength. 

Megumi’s won 2 out of his 4 matches this quarter, a great showing for a rookie. Some might say his strategy is working. Gojo is, however much he goofs off, a relentless teacher. 

“Hi,” he says. “Sorry we’re late.” 

You pull him into a hug. “No worries! It hasn’t started yet.” 

Yuki’s collecting bets for this match. You personally think it’s a dangerous move on Getou’s part. She’s just as likely to skim off the top as she is to steal the whole box and never come back. Maybe she’d move to Singapore again. 

“Who are you betting on?” She asks with a grin. 

“Who else?” 

For the first time in a while, you find a pretty even split between Gojo’s box and his opponents when you go to submit your bet. Usually, no one bets against Gojo. 

“I’m just letting you know cause you’re a pretty girl,” someone leers at you. “But Sukuna has something up his sleeve. I wouldn’t bet on Six Eyes if I were you.” 

“Fuck off, Mahito,” Yuki says. She makes a move to put down her clipboard and he turns tail. You would, too. You’ve seen her fights. “He’s on Sukuna’s side. Don’t listen to him.” 

The lights dim, and the talking quiets into a whisper. No one wants to miss a moment. 

Getou’s the perfect announcer. He knows how to work a crowd. You don’t know who writes his speeches, if he prepares at all, but he always knows the right thing to say to drive them insane. They’re half-frenzied, foaming at the mouth. 

It helps that there are two legends in the ring. 

“Sukuna, the King of Curses,” Getou announces. The only light in the arena centers over the ring, spotlighting the fighters. The crowd goes wild. Personally, you think ‘King of Curses’ is a little cheesy. It can’t be worse than your boyfriend, though.

“Versues Gojo, Six Eyes!” 

Six Eyes is not what you had wanted him to call his alter ego. It’s not nearly as cool as Infinity, which is what you were pushing for, but Gojo’s insistent. Besides, it’s not like anyone will laugh at him. 

It’s Gojo, after all. 

He’s the golden boy of the crowds at these matches. Celebrities pay top dollar to see him fight. You know the appeal. When you were a kid, horror movies used to make you sick. You couldn’t watch a minute of a slasher without feeling the need to close your eyes, but Gojo makes everything different. 

He makes violence into an art form. The line of his arm as his right hook smashes into his opponent’s face paints a silver arc into your eyes. He makes fighting look like a dance, or sex. There’s nothing quite so alluring as watching Gojo go head to head with someone. 

He pushes into their space with the sort of grace that you wouldn’t expect from someone who packs so much brute force behind a punch, managing to execute the cleanest strike every single time. There’s not a single wasted movement in the execution of his attacks. 

Go-jo. Go-jo. Go-jo. 

The crowd is chanting his name. Gojo is encouraging them, making a lap around the arena while Sukuna seethes. He raises his arm, asking for more, more. 

More of their love. More of their adoration. More of their awe. 

Gojo doesn’t fight for the fame or glory, but it definitely helps.  

“The great Gojo Satoru,” Sukuna says, posturing. “You look weaker than the last time I saw you.” 

His last match was Getou, one of the rare matches the announcer will actually participate in. It’s an indulgence he only affords his best friend. It was also the closest one Gojo’s ever had to call, though he won in the end. He always does. He has had an uninterrupted streak of victories from his very first moment in the ring, something no other fighter can claim. Rather than deign to give Sukuna an answer, he calls to someone else. 

“You lost to this, Megumi?” 

Megumi makes a noise of irritation that’s barely restrained by Yuuji tugging his attention away. He’s rarely hotheaded except when it comes to Gojo, who delights in riling him up to see him fight harder. 

“I know he has it in him,” he told you once. “He’s just intent on keeping it down. You gotta pry it out of the kid with a crowbar.” 

“Maybe you shouldn’t be pushing if he doesn’t want to fight,” you had said, amused despite yourself. 

“Nah. It’ll be good.” 

You haven’t seen one of Megumi’s fights yet, but Gojo’s are always a show. 

Sometimes, the less experienced will try to circle their opponents, showing off that they know how to corner someone. They’re too quick to anger, having something to prove. That pride will be their downfall. Others who have a little more time under their belt stand stock still, waiting for the first hit. They want to show off. Their opponents come to them, so they can project the confidence of someone who doesn’t need to attack first. 

It’s all an illusion. If they were really confident, they would be doing what Gojo and Sukuna are doing - brawling. They get dirty quick, swinging at each other with all their strength. 

Sukuna goes for a left-right, smashing through Gojo’s left side with a preliminary feint and trying to needle in a right punch just after. Nothing gets through Gojo’s defenses. It leaves faint red marks on his arms, but not much else. His blocks are perfect, as every other move in his arsenal is. 

Then it’s Gojo’s turn. His jabs are quick and fierce, landing in quick succession. You’ve heard Sukuna never stumbles, but it’s a near thing now as Gojo presses him hard. He takes the impact of one of the heavier hits in his stomach, a bad place. 

You can practically see the cockiness oozing off Gojo. He’s just about hitting his flow state. 

When Megumi touches your arm, you almost snap at him, though you know he’s only concerned for you. With the way you’re white-knuckling the armrests of your seat, anyone would be. You can’t help it. You’re completely unable to look away from the arresting sight of his figure. The way he leans into Sukuna’s blows, dodging them at the last second. His perfect hands, the bruises they leave behind. They all leave an indelible impression on your heart, as they have from his very first match you watched. 

There’s a shocking beauty in this world that you would’ve never realized if he never brought you here. It’s only here, among the most primitive forms of beauty, that you can witness life at its utmost, just flashes of it, all the more enticing for its transience. Gojo’s pale hand catches Sukuna across the throat, cutting off his air. Sukuna scrambles to fling him off. 

The image remains in your mind, appearing behind your eyelids every time you blink. Gojo’s winning, pushing Sukuna towards his corner of the ring. He has him on the defense. Gojo has you enthralled. You’re hungry for more, hungry for the very sight of him. 

Then, there’s a sickening crack as Sukuna’s fist makes contact with Gojo’s jaw, right at the corner of his mouth. His head shoots left, following the impact. You cringe at the solid, meaty noise the hit made. The roar of the crowd goes silent. Megumi especially cringes at the sight. His hand goes to his own cheek in sympathy. 

You always love these until this moment. 

Even Sukuna seems stunned, as if he didn’t actually expect to land that hit. He reacts more slowly than he normally does, retracting his fist instead of pressing his advantage. It’s almost like he’s suspicious. 

Gojo spits blood onto the floor and straightens up with a sanguine smile. “My students are watching. Hope you don’t mind if I get serious.” 

After that, Sukuna doesn’t stand a chance. 

Left kick. Right kick. Left punch. Right punch again, and again, and again. Sukuna can’t fend him off. Gojo lands the same hit over and over, completely blowing through his defenses. At some point, Sukuna’s head hits the mat so hard it looks like the threat of a concussion. Gojo doesn’t waste his chance. He pins him down so he can rain blows down on him. Sukuna tries and fails to buck him off, cursing. 

It’s more than a fight at this point, it’s an execution. He makes crushing a man like Sukuna look like child’s play. It’s a show, and you can’t help but wonder if it’s for you, even as around you, the surge of the crowd is proving otherwise. They congest the barriers, begging for more. 

Gojo looks into the screaming crowd. Half of them are on their feet, jumping up and down, roaring his name or title alternatively. Even Sukuna’s side looks caught between fear and awe. He doesn’t care about any of them. 

When he realizes you’re watching, he strikes the final blow. 

A perfect arc of shiny white flies across the ring and lands on the cement outside of it. Instantly, people are scrambling for the memento. It’s Sukuna’s tooth. 

He doesn’t get back up. 

Only Gojo looks up, grinning like the devil. 

There’s a fire burning in your gut. He’s sweeping the crowd for your face; when his eyes meet yours, you make sure he knows exactly what he’s going to get once you find him in the locker room. He grins, splitting a just scabbed wound so blood begins trickling into his teeth. It’s messy, it’s gross, you want to lick it off his face. 

“Please just go,” Nobara says, pained. “I can’t watch you two eyefuck for another second.” 

You don’t need another invitation. 

No one protests when you push your way past the door marked “PRIVATE” in obnoxiously red letters. They’re used to you. Besides, no one wants to get in the way of Gojo’s girl and have him find an issue with them outside the ring. It’s bad enough when there are rules - a private fight with him is an absolute no go. If anything, they see you and know it's time to head home before they’re subject to a scene they absolutely have no interest in seeing. 

He’s waiting in his dressing chair, but he makes it look like a throne. 

Before you even finish closing the door, he’s on you. You have to scramble for the handle so you can lock it through the blinding haze of his kiss, the crush of his gentle hands on your waist, your jaw as he tilts your head up. 

“Are you here to give me my reward?” He says when he finally pulls back, gasping for air the way he didn’t in the match. He hadn’t even broken a sweat. Something in you delights at being the one to pull this side of him out in a way that even Sukuna hadn’t been able to. 

“Get back on that chair,” you say. 

“Oh, baby. You know I love it when you’re bossy,” he coos, and then he’s not acting so cocky anymore because you’re pulling his boxers down. No one can get him to shut up unless it’s you, on your knees. He cups your jaw possessively as you lick your lips. 

He can’t help it. You’re sweet and soft and perfect for him, everything he wants. It helps that you’re good with your mouth, the result of hours of practice. When his cock hits the back of your throat, his fist clenches in your hair before he can stop himself. Muttered sorries can’t compare to the way his eyes are rolling back into his head, the way his head is tipped so far back you can clearly see the bob of his throat when he swallows. 

The effect you’re having on him only makes his effect on you worse. Your cunt throbs, empty, but you’re determined to give him what he deserves before you give yourself any attention. 

“You’re making such a mess,” he mutters, low and guttural as he watches you drool on his cock. “Just look at you, baby.” 

The pet name makes your pace stutter. He laughs at you, because he may be sweet on you specifically, but your boyfriend is an asshole in general, and sometimes he just can’t help it. You make him regret it, licking up the underside of his cock, tracing a sensitive vein with your tongue. 

His hands are petting over your hair, as soothing as the quiet praise he drops, always some variation of ‘pretty little thing’ or ‘my good girl.’ You’re gagging, trying to fit more. You are good, you think as you struggle, hollowing your cheeks around him. So good, just for him. He moans and his hips jerk forward with a sudden spasm. It pushes his cock further into your mouth, hitting impossibly deep. Even when tears well up in your eyes, you urge him on, hand on his thigh. Given permission, he fucks into your mouth with abandon. 

When he pulls you off, you whine without shame. 

“Don’t be like that,” he coos - he’s always cooing at you, always softening his words, giving you the best of him. “I’m going to give you what you need.” 

He bends you over the vanity so you can see your face in your mirror. Your cheeks are warm and your eyes slightly watery. His hands have tousled your hair so thoroughly you look debauched. You love it, especially when he slips a hand under your skirt and flips it up. 

“Cute panties,” he snickers. 

They’re the same blue as his eyes. 

“You would like them, you narcissist,” you shoot back. 

Your voice dies as he pulls them off. You’re so wet it leaves a string stretching between the fabric and your pussy, only breaking once Gojo impatiently rips it off of you. You can’t even be mad, you’re so desperate for him. 

He slides a thigh between your legs and presses you open until you’re spread wide for him, on full display. One large hand grips your hip in a way that makes your brain go hazy and stupid, seeing the splay of his fingers across your flesh. Possessive. 

He slips two fingers into you gently. It’s still not enough. You knew before you came to this room that you were ready, that you prepared for him, but he always insists on opening you up nice and slow. It’s a pleasure for him to first see the way you fall apart on his fingers, riding them like you’re mad for it. He’s not big on delayed gratification until it comes to you, and then he can be maddeningly patient. He curls his fingers just right until your legs are trembling with desire. 

“Enough,” you gasp. You’re clutching onto his forearm with shaky hands, trying to push him away even as your cunt is sucking him in. Gojo raises an eyebrow at the mixed signals you’re sending.   

“I barely started,” he says, amused. 

“But I want it now,” you whine. 

He never refuses you. You’re so wet that he should push into you easily, but he’s big enough that it punches the breath of you anyway. He stays there, waiting, while you shake through a mini orgasm, lightning traveling up your spine and nerves as you shiver apart. 

“Told you,” he says, unsympathetic even as he pets your thighs for your comfort. “This is what happens when you get greedy.” 

Even being put in your place like this doesn’t deter you. Before long, you’re pleading for more again, begging for him to split you open on his cock. He groans, playfully put upon. When he accidentally bumps your clit, you clench down on him so hard it finally shuts him up. You’re so full of him you can barely breathe, his hips finally flush to your ass. 

“Perfect little cunt,” Gojo hisses, drowning in you. His face is buried in the crook of your neck as his hips snap forward. He’s too wired to be gentle but you want it, crave it. You need to see him like he was in that arena, a brutal machine. “Made for me, aren’t you?” 

You mindlessly hum your agreement as both hands pin your hips down to the cool surface of his dressing table. You feel so good you can’t even think straight, every single thought in your head centering on the tension in your core. When he finally, finally gives you what you need, fucking you so hard the table shakes, you cum so quickly you can’t even warn him. Your cunt spasms around him as your eyes flutter shut. If he hadn’t been holding you open, your legs would’ve snapped shut around him. 

“Good, sweetheart?” He asks as you come down from your high. “Because I don’t think I’ve gotten my full reward yet.”

#sera writes #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojou x reader #gojou satoru x reader #ns.fw

[petitelepus]

The Demon Gift: Choosing Hantengu, Part 1

Demon!Slave!Hantengu X Fem!Reader

Summary: It's your birthday and your adoptive father who is filthy rich and corrupted, takes you out to get you a brand new present, a Demon slave and you get to pick one! Only you pick the worst there is, Hantengu, and suffer for it.

Warnings: Abuse, Violence, Domestication, Implied Domestic Abuse, Hantengu Is Abused, Reader's Father Is A-Grade Asshole, But Things Get Better

A/N: Demon Slave AU, Domesticated Demons, Reader Insert, Fem!Reader, Hantengu, Master/Slave

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6

EXTRA: Originally this was a Demon Pet!AU, but I wanted to travel to the depths of Demon Slave!AU and I think I can do more with slaves than pets. Please, sorry, and thank you for understanding!

You were on your family's limousine, on your way to God knew where. One moment you were in your room and the next moment the servant had come to fetch you, telling you that your father wanted to see you. Why, you had no clue.

The dark windows didn't offer you much to see, so you had no idea where you were at. You glanced at the man sitting across from you, scrolling through his phone and not even sparing a glance at you.

"Dad-!" You were saying but the man shot you a quick glare, "What was that?"

"I mean father." You quickly corrected yourself. "Where are we heading?"

"You're an adult woman already, Starfish."

God, you hated that nickname. You used to love it as a kid, but as you grew and learned what responsibilities, and burdens came with the nickname you started to hate it.

"So you deserve some responsibility." This man who had married your mom and taken you as his own when you were just a toddler, said and you tried your hardest not to frown, visibly at least. He always had something in his mind, and most of the time it was not your well-being.

"Father, I-!"

"Hush, we are here now!"

The limousine came to a halt and the servants rushed to open and hold the doors for you and your father.

"Happy birthday, Starfish!" Your father smiled and you followed him out of the car and looked at the huge warehouse before you. You blinked, confused and completely unaware of your surroundings or place. This place was secure and far out from any civilization, just what was here that he wanted you to see?

"Father, this is…?" You left the sentence unfinished, giving your father a chance to fill you in.

"It's a Demon Market!" The man smiled as he stepped forward and one of the servants closed the car's door behind him and you. You looked at the place and frowned, "Is this place even legal?"

"Why, does it matter?" Your father asked and you wanted to frown and object, tell him how cruel and horrible these places were, but you saw the look in the older man's eyes and you knew to keep your mouth shut.

"I guess, not…" You murmured and your father nodded as the two of you walked up to the warehouse's door and knocked in a quick rhythm. The doors slid open and the smell of blood and rotten meat struck you like lightning. You coughed a little, trying to hide the gagging as you followed your father inside the dark building.

You looked around in horror, seeing Demons in cages on top of cages, running from one side of the warehouse to another, stacked on top of one another. Despite the smell and the darkness, it looked like the Demons were in fairly good shape but you could never tell unless you got closer to inspect them.

"Mister Sliver!" A man, a human walked up to you and you were momentarily taken aback by how huge the man was. He was tall and pure muscle, but maybe it was needed when handling Demons.

"Barney, I'm happy to see you!" Your father laughed as they hugged and you almost gawked. You had never seen your father hug anyone, even your mother before, so this man Barney must have been important.

"And is this beautiful woman your wife?" The muscly man asked and you almost gagged again. Your father laughed, "No, no, this is my beloved daughter!"

"My bad!" Barney laughed, "Nice to meet you, young Lady."

"Good afternoon." You nodded back but you didn't return the smile. Not that it seemed to make any difference.

"So Slick-!" Barney started and you assumed Slick was your father's nickname, "You said you are looking for a Demon for a special someone?"

"Yes, that would be my daughter!" Your father laughed and you almost felt your heart drop down your stomach.

"Da- Father!" You gasped, "A Demon? For me?"

"Why not? Your siblings also got their Demons from here!"

Same siblings who made your life living Hell and once they matured they turned their abuse to those poor Demons they had chosen? No, you weren't like that and you didn't want to turn into something like that!

"Father, as nice as the thought is, I doubt I want-!"

"Nonsense! Pick any Demon you want and I will buy it for you!" He said, "What you do with it is up to you!"

"I…" You swallowed, "I'm not sure I'm cut out for it…"

"Picking your first slave can be challenging, but you are my daughter!" He laughed as he patted you on the shoulder with a little too much force, "I'll be waiting outside. Oh, I can hardly wait to see what you pick up! I expect nothing but perfection from you!"

Yeah, nice, lay on the pressure.

"Take care of her Barney and send me the bill! Remember, nothing but the best!"

You weren't sure if your father meant the rest of his sentence to you or this master, and you honestly didn't care. You watched him leave the warehouse and you felt sick as you looked around almost as helplessly as a baby chick.

"So?" Barney grinned and you noticed he was missing one of his front teeth, "What kind of Demon are you looking for?"

"I… I don't know yet." You replied honestly and he nodded, "Nice. Just look around and whistle if you find something that catches your eye!"

"Sure…" You nodded as you stepped away from the muscle man and started to go through the cages filled with Demons. They were all very different and no one was similar to one before them. Despite their awful living spaces, they were all pretty well taken care of.

How should you be able to choose one and what would you do with them? Maybe make them help around the house? That would require either muscles or grace so maybe a strong Demon or a woman perhaps?

"Yaaah!" A sudden blood-freezing screech almost made you jump out of your skin and you turned before heading towards the source of the scream.

It was just around the corner, in a more lit area of the factory which confused you since Demons preferred darker surroundings. What you saw shocked you to the core.

A muscular man, thinner than Barney but pretty damn muscly also, was roughhousing a Demon dressed in nothing but rags, showing off his boney body. He was such an ugly feeble and old-looking Demon, but the most notable thing in him was the large bump on the top of his head, just above his horns.

"Please…! Please stop! It hurts…!" The Demon cried, big fat tears running down from his red eyes as he covered in fear.

"Shut the fuck up you worthless piece of shit!" The man, another master shouted as he reeled his hand back and smacked the Demon on the cheek so hard that the force of the slap almost sent him flying. The Demon landed on the floor with a loud thud and let out an even louder cry of pain, moving quickly to huddle into a corner and curl into a defensive ball.

"Get back here you ugly son of a whore!" The man shouted as he started to undo his belt and you froze as memories flashed through your mind. The belt, the swoosh, the burning pain when it made contact.

Suddenly it was harder to breathe in the stuffy blood-smelling warehouse. Time felt like it froze around you and everything stilled. You would have been trapped in the trance if it wasn't for the sound of the belt moving through the air and hitting the Demon, making him cry out in pain.

"Little shits like you don't deserve to-!"

"S- stop that!" You don't know where the courage to go between the man and Demon came from, but you stood there, arms wide and protecting the Demon, "Stop that at once!"

"Who the fuck are you!?" The man shouted and raised the belt over his hand, about to hit you also, but you stood your ground and-

"Charlie lay off!"

You and the man turned to look and saw a very mad-looking Barney walking at the three of you, "That's Slick's daughter!"

"Shit." This master, Charlie cursed as he looped the belt back around his pants just as Barney made it to you guys, "Everything okay?"

"What the Hell?" You hissed like a furious cat and Barney looked at you, "Charlie didn't hit you, did he?"

"No, but he was hitting this Demon!" You pointed at the poor Demon shivering and crying behind you.

"That one?" Barney laughed, "That's Punchy!"

"Punchy?" You repeated, highly doubting that it was this Demon's name and if it was, it was either a horrible name or had a darker meaning.

"Yeah, he is our little friend, aren't you Punchy?" Charlie laughed as he stepped past you and nudged the Demon with the heel of his shoe, making the poor thing whimper in fear.

The master laughed, "Don't worry girlie, Demons can take a lot of beating! As long as you feed them, they heal. As far as I'm aware, Punchy has always been an ugly piece of shit. Haven't you?"

"P- Please…!" The Demon cried as he furiously rubbed his tear-filled eyes, "Don't hurt me…!"

"Go look for a slave you like. Charlie will take Punchy to another room and you can focus on some prime Demons!" Barney said and his friend Charlie grabbed the Demon's upper arm and was about to yank the poor man up… But before Charlie could do so, you snapped your hand around his wrist and squeezed as hard as you physically could.

"What the-!" He looked at you and you glared at him, "I'm buying him."

"What?" Both Charlie and Barney were shocked and honestly, so were you. Did you really want this old Demon as your first one, no, as your only one when there were much younger, prettier, and stronger Demons?

…But something in this one pulled your heartstrings. You wanted to save him and that's what you were going to do.

"That?" The masters could barely believe what they were hearing so they replied with laughter and mockery. You frowned as you listened to them badmouth poor the Demon while he was right there. Had they no shame?

"You have a good humor kid!" Barney laughed as he reached for you, no doubt going to escort you away to look at some other Demons, "Let's just go there and-!"

You were damned if you would let this barbarian touch you! You slapped his hand away and he looked stunned as you frowned and stood by the poor Demon's side, "I'm picking him. No buts or ifs, I want to buy him."

Barney and Charlie shared looks before they both burst out laughing.

"Chick is crazy!" They laughed as they walked away and you growled but stopped when you heard the Demon behind you whimper in fear. He was so pathetic when you looked at him, trying to press so hard against the wall as if he wished it would swallow him. You tried to show sympathy to the frail being so you kneeled down to his level to make yourself less scary.

"Can you stand up?" You asked, voice hushed and gentle as you offered your hand to him. The Demon shivered and sobbed as he looked at you and your hand like he was expecting this to be a mockery and for you to smack or do something much worse to him.

But you were patient with him and finally, he nodded and shakily raised his bony hand and placed it on your awaiting palm. You smiled a little as you helped him up to his feet, but as soon as you got him standing you noticed that he didn't straighten his back.

No, he was crouching as he got behind you and grabbed your upper arm with both hands, making you winch a little. Despite looking frail, he was rather strong.

"Easy, not so hard please?" You whispered and the Demon shivered as he looked at you, and slowly he nodded and loosened his grip a little so it wasn't painful anymore.

Walking outside with him was a little more challenging with him clinging on to you, but you made it. Sun was setting so there wasn't so much light that would burn him, but what sunlight there was must have stung him as he sobbed and clung to you tighter.

Your father was leaning against the limousine, smoking a cigarette, but when he saw you step outside the factory he flicked the cancer stick aside and smiled… But that smile died when he saw the Demon clinging to you.

"Barney, what the fuck!?" Your father snapped as he looked at his friend, "What the fuck are you playing at!? What is this ugly piece of shit!?"

"Relax Slick, your daughter picked him!" Barney laughed as he pointed at you with his thumb. You realized that you might have made a huge mistake choosing this Demon, as you hadn't even stopped to think how your father would react.

"Take it back and choose something else!" Your father shouted, his loud voice scaring the Demon behind you. You frowned as you stood your ground, "I want this one."

"Take it back or else-!" He left the thread hanging, and despite fearing him, you stuck to your decision, "You told me to pick a slave I wanted and I want this one."

"Your girl sure is funny Slick!" Barney laughed, not helping at all and he just made your father angrier. Seeing that there was no way for him to win this argument, he scowled as he turned around and the servants opened the car door for him.

"Get in the car." He snapped and you swallowed nervously as you followed him, your Demon clinging close to you. As the servants got in with you guys, the limousine took off.

The Demon was on his knees, hugging your legs like he was too scared to let go of you and what would happen if he did so. You couldn't help but notice that his nails were long and chipped, not being taken care of at all. You glanced at the servants and even they were looking at Demon of your choice with disgust.

Your father was on his phone again, but he was frowning and that alone was a scary sight. Suddenly you weren't feeling as brave as you felt back at the warehouse. The whole drive back to the civilization was quiet save for the Demon's sobbing but finally, your father broke the silence.

"You made a fool of me today." He stated and you swallowed nervously, "Father-!"

"I have never been this humiliated!" He shouted suddenly and pointed at your Demon who let out a small shriek of fear as he hugged your legs tighter, "You got the weakest, ugliest thing there was!"

"I'm sorry-!" You were trying to apologize but the limousine came to a halt. A servant stepped out and opened the door for you, but you looked out and saw that you weren't back home but by some hotel. You blinked in confusion and turned to look at your father who didn't even spare a glance at you.

"As far as I'm aware, I have one daughter less." The man grunted and your eyes widened in shock. Was he really going to disown you for this? How petty could a man be?

"Father, I-!"

"Here," He snapped his fingers and a servant offered you a briefcase.

"What is this?" You blinked in confusion as you accepted the heavy case and your father grumbled, "Take that as your inheritance."

"My what?"

"I'm buying you out of the family. You get all that money and you stay away from me, your mother, and your siblings."

"Y- You can't just-!" You tried to protest but he shot you a glare that made you quiet down immediately.

"I can, and I will!"

"What about my stuff at home?"

"I'll have a servant bring them to you when you find your own place." Your father glared at you, "Now get the fuck out of my car you no good brat, and take that ugly thing with you!"

You bit your lip, trying to hold in your tears as you got up and out of the car, your new Demon slave following close behind you. As soon as you were out, the limousine door was slammed shut and the car left quicker than you could blink.

You sighed as you looked at the hotel and then at your Demon who was shivering and sobbing. At least he didn't appear to be in any pain thanks to the sun setting down and nighttime coming while you were in the car.

"Let's get a room for the night, okay?" You said and the Demon whimpered as he nodded shakily and followed you inside the hotel. You got yourselves a room meant especially for customers with slaves with them.

The briefcase you had gotten from your father was full of money, like, lots of money. He appeared to be pretty generous when he wanted stuff or people gone from his life.

"Okay, this will be our place for a while until I find us a proper place to live in." You said as you opened the door to the hotel room and you let your feeble Demon step inside, who immediately went to cover in the corner of the room.

Seeing that he was pretty shy, you decided to give him a moment alone. After you locked the door, you set the briefcase down by the bed and collapsed on the soft mattress. What a heck of a day you had.

"I- I'm sorry…!" You heard the Demon suddenly whimper, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry…!"

You blinked as you pushed yourself upright and looked to see the poor thing crying and apologizing like it was his mantra. Frowning, you got up and walked to the Demon, but he flinched as soon as he noticed you and froze like he was expecting you to lash out at him.

"Hey hey, it's okay…" You said quietly as you kneeled by the Demon's side and gently rubbed his upper back in a comforting manner.

"What's your name? Do you have one or are you really Punchy?"

"…H- Hantengu…" He replied quietly and you smiled a little, feeling like you were making progress with him.

"Hantengu, none of this was your fault." You were lying, but honestly, maybe this was a blessing in disguise, being kicked out of your own horrible family and getting money from it also. It wouldn't be easy, but you could start again now with a fresh start.

"First thing first, are you hungry Hantengu?" You asked and the poor thing was absolutely shivering as he nodded shakily and you nodded also, "Okay, I'm gonna order you some meat to eat. You like meat, don't you?"

It was a pointless question as Demons were almost completely carnivores, but you wanted to be polite. He nodded and you smiled as you got up to order him something to eat from the hotel's kitchen.

Once the morning would come, you would head out to find you and Hantengu an apartment where you could live and some proper clothes for him instead of the rags he was in. Despite the rocky start, you had a good feeling about this.

#hantengu #demon slayer hantengu #reader #reader insert #Fem!Reader #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #writing #my writing #story #master #slave #master/slave #demon slave!AU #Slave!AU #Domesticated Demons #Abuse #Violence

[softspiderling]

cruel existence | j.h.s.

summary: “Excuse me, can anyone tell me where I can find Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw?”  Jake’s head whirled to the guy nobody had heard coming into the break room.  His hair was wild, face red, as if he had been running for the past few minutes. Only when Jake’s eyes fell to his FBI minted vest, his heart plummeted into his stomach, the smile on his face vanishing.  “What happened?” Jake asked, nearly falling over his feet as he walked up to the man, blood rushing into his ears. “Is she okay?” or, you get hurt at work and Jake spirals

pairing: jake “hangman” seresin x reader

warnings: mention of violence, blood, usage of guns, and a death (of a minor character)

word count: 3,7k

author’s note: hello my friends. here is pt. 3 of the wingman's best friend universe, and if you missed jake and fbi!reader rest assured, they are back. honorable mentions to my ride or die's jordan, sol and may @gretagerwigsmuse @seasonsbloom @sunderlust ily guys. no beta, we die like goose. PS: this fic is part of the wingman’s best friend universe, but can be read as a stand-alone!

It was silent.

The only thing echoing through the warehouse was water dripping on the ground, paired with the squelching sound your boots made as you walked further into the dark building. 

Donovan Sinclair had been in possession of two dirty bombs; you and your team had been trying to chase him all week. It had started off with an explosion at a corner store, where Sinclair’s partner had accidentally set off one of the bombs, killing him and 4 other civilians, injuring 9 others. Even though the incident has been on the news for basically every single minute of the day, you were told by your officials to not announce your current findings of the case, so as to not set off a wild panic. 

Which was not very easy for you. 

While the rest of your team struggled with keeping the possibility of a bomb going off any second, it was even harder for you. You’d set off a Navy wide alarm if you told Bradley or Jake, not that they would tell anyone classified information. But you wanted to grab both of them and pack them in a car and drive far away from wherever Sinclair was currently holed up. The sudden disappearance of two high ranking naval aviators? You weren’t sure what would set off the Navy’s alarm bells if not that.

So you just tried to stay busy. Which really wasn’t that hard, since there was a terrorist on the loose. By the third day, you hit a dead end, when one of a street camera caught Sinclair exiting a hardware store. By the time you got there, he had hijacked a car and made you chase him through the entire city, which got you here.

“Any signs of him outside, Mateo?”

“Negative. Avery and I will enter the building from the other side, let’s try to cage him inside the warehouse.”

You glanced over to your partner Gia, motioning for her to lead the way, the two of you tiptoeing through the huge empty warehouse. As quiet as possible, you approached the hallway, where it split into left and right. Hesitantly, Gia glanced back at you. In all your training, you’ve been told over and over again to never leave your partner. There was a reason why you worked in teams. But you’ve also learned to trust your instincts, and you couldn’t live with yourself if this son of a bitch got away. 

“Let’s split up,” you whispered, giving Gia a nod of reassurance. “Stay alert, we’ll meet up in the back.” With a tap to your earpiece, you turned down the right hallway, your shoulders tense. There were offices lined on either side of the hallway and you checked every single one, entering the rooms with your gun first. You might have backed Sinclair in the corner but you knew better than to underestimate a perp, especially one that was as dangerous as him. 

At the end of the hallway was a large, dark room, with tall, metal shelves in the middle. As you stepped into the room, you felt the hairs by the nape of your neck rise immediately.

It was quiet. 

Too quiet.

In the split second that it took your eyes to adjust to the darkness, another body slammed into your side, hard. Your gun slipped out of your hand, clattering against the floor and you barely had time to react before you got a heavy punch right into the stomach; you doubled over in pain as the other person chuckled darkly. 

Sinclair. 

You curled your hand into a fist, slamming it into Sinclair’s face, but he easily dogged your fist, shoving you against the metal shelf. It knocked the breath out of you and before you could recover, he grabbed you by the shoulders, throwing you across the floor. Even before your face made contact with the ground, you knew that your chances against him were slim. He had caught you off guard, and clearly had more strength than you did. Crouching on your knees, your vision was starting to get blurry, but you launched yourself at his legs, toppling him over with a crash. 

“Stupid bitch!” Sinclair sneered, slapping you across the face so hard that your skin splits open, warm blood trickling down your cheek. Prying your hands from his legs, Sinclair kicked your torso until tears sprung into your eyes, all you wanted to do was give up. But you couldn’t.

Sinclair leaned over you, pressing his palm against your ribs, making you cry out in pain, as you saw your gun glinting in the far right side on the floor. As your hand reached out for it, Sinclair wrapped his around your neck, tightening his grip. 

“You really think I’d let the FBI ruin my plans?” Sinclair grunted, pressing even tighter. It was getting harder for you to breathe, your fingertips barely grazing against the butt of the gun, but Sinclair quickly caught on, his hands loosening as he scrambled for your gun. 

Reacting quickly, even though your lungs were burning and your entire body was telling you to rest, you grabbed Sinclair by the back of his jacket, flinging him back as hard as you could. Lunging forward, you reached for your gun but just as you were about to grab it, Sinclair pulled you back by your legs, the gun slipping out of your hand. 

Heaving, you propped yourself up, barely any fight left in you, but Sinclair was already pointing the gun at your head, smirking. 

“Any last words?”

You spat blood at his shoes, raising your chin defiantly, trying to show you weren’t afraid, even though you were terrified. Bradley was never going to forgive you, and Jake? You didn’t even want to think about him right now. 

“Fuck you,” you hissed at him and Sinclair’s eyes flashed angrily before a shot rang through the air. You expected a searing pain, but it never came, as Sinclair sank to his knees, blood oozing out of the gun shot in his forehead. Whirling your head back, you saw Gia standing in the doorway, breathing out deeply, before you sighed in relief, letting yourself relax. 

However, it suddenly felt like all the energy was drained from you, the pain that shot from every limb was so unbearable, it was getting hard to breathe.

“Agent down, I repeat, we got an agent down. Send an ambulance to our location immediately!” Gia yelled, before gentle hands brushed your hair out of your face, something wet dropped on your cuts. It burned

“Hurts…” you croaked out, your eyes fluttered open just to see Gia staring down at you, tears in her eyes. 

“We never should’ve split up. Stay awake, okay? The ambulance will be right here, you have to stay awake.”

“‘m… So tired…”

You could hear Gia say your name, gently shaking your, sending shots of pain right through your body. In the distance, there were sirens, but you weren’t sure if you were imagining things. Loud, hurried steps came closer, before you finally let yourself fall, letting the darkness engulf you.

/

“Anyone up for a beer tonight? It’s been ages since we went down to the Hard Deck,” Halo sighed, leaning her head against Fritz’ shoulder. The rest of the squadron voiced their agreements, but Jake only grunted, shaking his head. 

“I think I am out. Gonna see if my girl wants to get dinner tonight.”

“How is my favorite FBI agent doing?” 

Jake rolled his eyes at Javy peering over the magazine he was reading. Ever since he found out that you were an actual FBI agent, he’d been pestering you and Jake (and Bradley, occasionally) with questions, his act of protective best friend completely forgotten. Jake blamed Javy’s obsession with Criminal Minds. 

“She’s fine. Just, extremely busy and stressed, I’ve barely seen her,” Jake lamented. “Her new case is heavy, that’s all I know.”

“Ooooh what kind of case is it? Russian mob? British spy? Serial killer?” 

“My god, he’s like a puppy,” Yale muttered, wrinkling his nose at Javy, but he only whacked him with the rolled up magazine. The two began bickering with Yale putting Javy in a headlock, the latter pinching his sides. 

“Excuse me, can anyone tell me where I can find Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw?” 

Jake’s head whirled to the guy nobody had heard coming into the breakroom.  His hair was wild, face red, as if he had been running for the past few minutes. Only when Jake’s eyes fell to his FBI minted vest, his heart plummeted into his stomach, the smile on his face vanishing. 

“What happened?” Jake asked, nearly falling over his feet as he walked up to the man, blood rushing into his ears. “Is she okay?”

The FBI guy eyed Jake, his gaze drifting to the other aviators, before looking back at Jake. 

“I need to find Lieutenant Br-”

“Listen buddy,” Jake hissed, grabbing him by the vest roughly, pulling him close. “If you don’t tell me right now what’s going on, I will-”

“Hangman!” 

Jake turned away from the red faced FBI guy, only to see Rooster running up to him, his phone clutched so tightly in his hand his knuckles were turning white. Jake’s breath stocked in his throat. 

“She’s in the hospital. We gotta go now.”

The ride to the hospital passed like a blur, Jake hadn’t even paid attention. The only thing he knew was what Bradley had told him. 

She and her team were chasing some guy and he caught Toots off-guard. She put up a hell of a fight, but the guy was huge and she and her partner had split up. She didn't have a chance. I- They called me, because I’m her emergency contact, Alvarez was just doing his job, following protocol. They say she’s still in surgery. It’s- 

Rooster’s voice had cut off and Jake knew better than to look over or to say anything. They both were having dark thoughts, knowing exactly that they should expect the worst. Jake’s never been on the other side of this. Sure, he was waiting outside the doctor’s office after Javy went into G-loc, but this? This was different.

This was you. 

As soon as Rooster pulled into a parking spot haphazardly, both men bolted out of the car, all but running into the hospital. Reaching the front desk, the nurse looked up, eyebrows raised. 

“Is Toots-?” Rooster paused, taking a deep breath before giving the nurse your real name. “Where is she?”

The nurse pursed her lips as she clicked through the files on her screen before turning back to Rooster and Jake. 

“She’s still in surgery. You’re welcome to take a seat in the waiting room.”

With an annoyed huff, Jake pushed away from the desk, heading into the waiting room, but instead of sitting down like Rooster, Jake started pacing from one end to the room to the other. About ten minutes in, the grandma in the right corner glared at Jake and it took everything in Jake not to snap at her. He’d rather direct his anger at Rooster.

“How the hell are you so calm?”

Rooster rubbed his hand over his face, his gaze on the floor before he lifted his head to look at Jake. 

“You’re already about to fly off the handle, one of us has to stay calm.”

Scoffing, Jake turned away from Rooster with a shake of his head. He continued pacing for another minute, before he gave up, falling down in the chair next to Rooster. Both of them sat there in silence, and then Jake spoke up, his voice barely a whisper. 

“How many times has this happened before?”

“Not as many times as you’re afraid of, but more than you’d like,” Rooster replied with a wry smile, exhaling deeply. “After I graduated from college, she was the only one who was there for me whenever I had an incident at work. It was like we took turns waiting for each other in the hospital and it kind of sucked having to wait by myself. Worry by myself.”

Rooster looked over to Jake. “I’m glad she has you, now.”

Jake wasn’t sure what to answer, so he didn’t say anything, leaning back in his chair and praying that you’d be okay. When the doctor finally came into the waiting room, calling your name, Jake and Rooster both jumped up, staring at her

“The surgery went well, there were no complications. She has several broken ribs and internal bleeding, all she has to do now is rest,” the doctor said, closing your file. “You may see her now. But she’s still asleep.”

“Thank you,” Jake replied, breathing a sigh of relief. He stood up, following the doctor to the room, the door closed. He wasn’t sure what he had expected but when the doctor opened the door, Jake stopped in his tracks. You were lying in the hospital bed, your usually bright skin impossibly pale, bruises splattered across your body, where it wasn’t covered by your gown. If it wasn’t for the slow rise but continuous rise of your chest, he might’ve thought you dead. His breath hitched in his throat.

“Go,” Rooster muttered, giving him a light shove, but Jake shook his head, leaning against the door frame, suddenly feeling nauseous. 

“I can’t.”

“Wha-? Hangman!” 

Nearly stumbling over his feet, ignoring Rooster calling after him, Jake fled down the hallway, looking for a bathroom. He knew what had happened to you, but why was it so much worse seeing you like this?

/

The first thing you noticed when you woke up was a bright light coming from the left; then you felt the warm hand caressing over your knuckles. 

“Jake…?” you croaked out, slowly opening your eyes. 

“Hey… No, it’s me.”

It took you a while before the room stopped spinning that you recognized Bradley on your bedside, looking at you with furrowed brows. Disappointment settled in your stomach. While Bradley still was your emergency contact, you had expected Jake to be here for you when you woke up, at the very least.

“Are you in a lot of pain?” Bradley asked, the concern obvious in his voice. 

You tried wiggling all your body parts and to your relief, you could feel all of them; the pain, that you remembered being overwhelmingly strong, was now merely a dull ache. Only your head felt like someone had dropped a boulder on it.

“Honestly, I thought I’d feel worse,” you admitted. “Though my head’s a bit woozy.”

“Just wait until the anesthesia wears off, you’ll be in so much pain,” Bradley teased. You chuckled, but only briefly, your smile dropping as you glanced over to the door. He followed your gaze and you wished that Jake would appear, so you wouldn’t look stupid. 

“He was here, you know?” Bradley said quietly, turning back to you. “He nearly beat up Alvarez for not telling him what had happened to you. He just- bolted as soon as he saw you lying in here like this.”

“That’s dumb.”

Bradley gave you a look. “Imagine him lying in this bed, in the same state that you’re in. How would you react?”

Miffed, you settled back in your bed, giving your best friend a dirty look. 

“Since when do you come to Jake’s defense? You love fucking with him.”

“Hey, don’t act like I hate him. We’ve had our issues, but those were Hangman and Rooster issues. I never had an issue with him being your boyfriend. He’s good for you and you’re good for him. And knowing you, you’re probably starting to get a bit pissed off at him. Which is fair, but don’t be too hard on him.”

You scoffed at his words, even though you knew he was right. But the way Jake reacted just didn't feel right. Up to this point, your relationship was… Easy. Fun. You never even fought before. This was the first bad thing that happened since you started dating and Jake’s first instinct was to run?

“I am going to get the doctor and grab you some water, okay? Are you going to be alright by yourself?” 

Bradley’s words drew you out of your spiraling thoughts and you waved him off, nodding.

“Yeah yeah, I’ll be fine, you mother hen.”

Bradley pressed a soft kiss on your forehead before he left the room, leaving you by yourself. You knew that the next couple of days were going to be rough. Gia was probably filling out the report for the case and maybe getting reamed at by your supervisor for splitting up in the first place. 

Now that you thought about it, you’d probably get the same lecture when you’d get back to work.

Someone by the door cleared their throat and when you looked up, you saw Jake lingering in the doorway. You fought the urge to turn your face away from him, but you couldn’t help glaring at your boyfriend. 

“How you feeling?”

“I’ve been better,” you replied, casting your eyes down on the bed, horrified to realize that there were tears starting to form in your eyes. 

“I’m going to be honest, sweets, you scared the shit out of me,” he said as he approached your bed, his hand finding yours. “When I saw you lying here like this, I- Are you crying?” 

Jake’s tone rose when he noticed the streaks of tears on your cheek. “Are you in pain? Can you breathe? I’ll go get the doctor!” He let go of your hand, standing quickly, pausing when you called his name.

“I am fine!”

“Then why are you crying?” Jake asked, confused. You rolled your eyes at him, wincing when that made your migraine stronger.

“Why weren’t you here when I woke up? Bradley said you came here with him, but then you just bolted? What the fuck, Jake?”

You stared at him, waiting for an answer, but Jake just stood there, frozen. 

“Is that how it’s going to be everytime something bad happens? You just bolt, leaving Bradley to deal with the consequences and come back when everything is okay?”

Jake clenched his jaw, before taking a deep breath. 

“Maybe I deserved that. But you can’t seriously believe what you’re saying. Sweets, I am 100% in this relationship, you hear me?” he sat back down on the bed, lacing your hand with his in a tight, but not uncomfortable hold. “You’re right. I should’ve been here when you woke up, that’s on me. But when I saw you lying here like this… I got scared, okay? It fucking scared me seeing you so small and frail, because I’ve never seen you like that. And that made me think what if… What if next time, you can’t fight back? What if… What if I lost you?”

Looking at him through your lashes, you wiped the tears on your cheeks, unsure what to say. 

“I am sorry I wasn’t here when you woke up. And I am sorry for making you feel like you couldn’t count on me. I promise I’ll be better,” Jake said, looking at you, his forehead creased.

“It was pretty shitty of you.”

The corner’s of Jake’s mouth ticked upwards and he reached out to gently cup your face with his hand. 

“It was... Are you doing okay?” 

You nodded, covering his hand with yours. Somehow, his touch calmed you, making you feel safe without really doing much. 

“Yeah, for now. I don’t know how much pain I’ll be in after the anesthesia wears off, though. I just hope that I can go home today.”

“Sorry, but no,” Jake answered, clicking his tongue. “They’re keeping you here overnight and if your breathing looks good tomorrow, they’ll let you go home. But you’re not allowed back to work until the doctor’s given you a clean bill of health.”

“... I am sorry, but have you become a doctor since I last saw you?”

Before Jake could reply, a doctor entered your room with Bradley in tow, who settled on the other side of your bed, holding a water bottle in his hand. The doctor gave you a small smile as she opened your file. 

“I am glad you’re up, special agent. You have significant bruising and internal bleeding, especially from the broken ribs. We fixed the broken ribs surgically and I would like to keep you here overnight, just as a precaution. I wouldn’t want you to come back here by tomorrow evening complaining of chest pains. You should abstain from strenuous activities for at least six weeks, and I advise you against working, if that’s at all possible. If you insist on working, then desk duty, only. I’ll prescribe you some pain killers for when you’re at home, otherwise you should just rest,” the doctor said, closing your file. “Do you have any more questions?”

A bit baffled, you shook your slowly, waiting until the doctor left the room before you glanced at Jake suspiciously, giving him a look. 

“You cornered her before, didn’t you?”

“So what if I did? I wanted to make sure that I knew everything there is to know to make sure you heal with no problems at all,” Jake pointed out and you leaned back in your bed with a huff.

“Wow. Two mother hens? How will I survive?”

Jake and Bradley both started going off in rants, making you regret your statement immediately. By the next day, after the doctor deemed you well enough to leave the hospital, Jake drove you home, insisting on taking the next few days off so he could take care of you. You were tucked into bed, comfortable on a mountain of pillows (because Jake read that lying flat on your back would put more pressure on your broken ribs), as Jake tuttered around your apartment, locking the door and putting your things away. 

“You know you don’t have to do all of this, right?” you asked him when he finally came to bed, crawling under the blanket on the left side of the mattress.

“I know,” Jake replied, snuggling up to you, yearning for physical touch without hurting you. “But I want to.”

author's note: i hope you like it besties. don't forget to comment/like/reblog when you did!! i'd love to hear from you!!

taglist: @littlebadariell // @labellapeaky // @solacestyles // @shaded-echoes // @sssjuico10 // @princessofglitterland // @unordinare // @unluckymonaghan // @solacestyles // @pythagothug // @shanimallina87 // @fantasias-creativebubble // @katcoquette // @lovinnoya // @emakacat // @takeyour-pantsoff // @another-tblr-fangirl // @alana4610 // @band-of-losers // @oscarisaacsleftknee // @candid-confetti // @sallyp-53 // @j-velvet // @vexedcanadian // @fantasyfan4life // @justanothermagicalsara // @obiwankenobis-lap // @et-homephone // @dummythiccwitch // @nonononomiles // @harper1666 // @simpingfortoomanypeople // @fangirling-4-ever // @hueanhdang // @i-wear-wet-socks313 // @hopeless-romanticnamed-s // @angelilacsworld // @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy // @unlikelycollectiondreamer // @lonelywithv2 // @je-suis-prest-rachell // @hotch-meeeeeuppppp // @deliciouslydisturbed365 // @tinyworm3 // @luckyladycreator2 // @ssaic-jareau // @xoxabs88xox // @averyhotchner  // @army24–7 // @avada-kedavra-bitch-187  // @tiredqueen73 // @alexxavicry // @classyunknownlover

#jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #hangman x reader

[generationlossupdates]

GenLoss Episode 2: The Mastermind of The Warehouse

Once again I am bolding the most important bits for those who want to skim, and I am putting it all under the cut to avoid dash clutter. If I'm missing anything important/messed up a specific detail PLEASE let me know so I can fix it, thanks!

Ranboo wakes up tied to a chair, in front of a tv. There's a bucket of keys in front of him. The tv turns on and a masked figure tells them that they have an hour to find the key that will let them out of their chains. If they don't get out they'll be shocked to death. The masked figure shocks them and they pass out briefly before waking back up. They start going at the keys and manage to pick out the right key first try. He frees himself and then gets up and turns off the tv. 

He begins to explore, finding a guy on a surgery table in a new room. There's a TV in there as well, and the masked figure tells him that he needs to find a key in him. The TV turns off on it's own and the guy on the table (Charlie) wakes up. Ranboo cuts open Charlies's stomach and he's full of slime. He starts digging around in his stomach, the guy making commentary on each thing he pulls out. Suddenly the screen starts to glitch and Charlie's stomach goop turns red, simulating blood, and he begins to scream. It goes back to 'normal' and Ranboo continues to dig around in Charlie's stomach. 

The TV turns on and the masked figure says that the key was ON Charlie, not IN him. Ranboo complains about the masked figure being unclear. He digs around in the toilet right next to operation bed and finds the key. He enters the next room and finds a group of people tied to a carousel. The TV is broken and the masked figure shows up, turning out to be The Puzzler. He tells Ranboo that he must determine who lives and who dies. They also drag in Charlie from the other room. Ranboo has each person state their case. 

At one point The Puzzler places a hat (the same hat Sneeg wore during the first episode) on Sneeg and the screen begins to glitch and Squiggle pops up saying 'BAD HAT' over and over. Sneeg suddenly begins to say he needs to use the bathroom, and when they let him go he runs for it. They spin the carousel and everyone begins to wail and sob. 

Suddenly they hear yelling as Sneeg is dragged back into the room. He's dragged back in by two masked people wearing Squiggle masks. They shove him into a chair and place a Showfall branded mask on his face. Everything freezes as they place Sneeg back in place. Everything returns to normal and Sneeg makes his case. 

All the others make their case and Chat gets to pick two people to live between Ethan, Austin, Frank, Sneeg, Niki, and Vinny. Niki and Sneeg are chosen to live, and are freed from the cage. Chat has to do a pipe puzzle to help them escape. The puzzle is completed successfully and Ranboo, Niki, and Sneeg go to the next room. They've entered the 'Candy Room' and must play as game called 'Mouse Trap'. They have 2 hours to complete the game by having it run through properly, or they'll die. They begin to put the game together, though the instructions are notably not in English. Ranboo also begins to act off, seeming more out of it and uncaring. They nearly finish the puzzle before realizing they're missing pieces. 

Ranboo remembers once piece was in Charlie's body, and goes to retrieve it. They're still missing another piece and Niki begins to look though the other door before accidentally entering the room The Puzzler is in and getting shot. She miraculously survives before The Puzzler goes back and kills her. They decide to bring in another person as replacement, this time being Vinny. They complete the trap and enter the next room. 

As they enter the next room, a person with a Squiggle mask turns Ranboo's mask back on, setting him back to 'normal'. They enter a room with lots of lasers and a diamond. Vinny says to toss him into the lasers and they do so. He managed to survive this, only to be killed by a random falling anvil. Ranboo then tries to properly go through the laser trap, becoming stuck at a point. The towel he had in his pocket holding Slimecicle suddenly begins to speak, and Slime tells him to put him/the towel on the laser machine. Ranboo does so and the towel burns, but he manages to get through the trap. He collects the diamond and Ranboo and Sneeg get beamed into a large closet. 

The Puzzler comments on their missing party member and brings in the rest of the carousel guests. He tells them all to turn around and announces their only clue that 'appearances aren’t always as they seem and to ‘change your appearance’’. He tells them to turn around and leaves, and they turn back around. They take this literally, dressing up in different clothes from the closet. They bring The Puzzler back in and they show off for him, though he does say that is not what he meant.

The Puzzler tells them to turn around again. Ranboo seems off again, and begins to look around. After some more observation, the group starts noticing buttons. They press them and the lights turn into black lights, and there are arrows saying to go into a room. Everyone seems suspicious of it, saying they don’t want to go into the room. They look around, seeming unsure. 

The Puzzler shows up yet again with his rats, all dressed up. Everyone starts complaining at him, and he pulls out the detonator yet again. They’re told to turn around yet again, and The Puzzler leaves. They continue to explore, Ethan finding a spinning corridor. He gets crushed by the corridor and Austin is the only one to react to this. 

They press the buttons again, the lights going into black light mode again. This time Ranboo goes through the door, and it turns out it is in fact the solution to the puzzle. Ranboo, Austin, and Sneeg go through and in the new room, there’s toys lining all the walls. The Puzzler shows up on a TV and begins to explain his last puzzle. He explains that they must play with the toys in order of date, but before he can finish his explanation the tv cuts out. Austin is again is the only to react to this. Ranboo’s dialogue becomes even more stilted as they look around. 

They turn to look at the button that says ‘DO NOT PUSH’ and after a small argument, Austin is coerced into pushing it, revealing a wall hole that can only fit one person. Austin, Sneeg and Ranboo fight to be the one to fit through it, though Austin seems to be the only one actually putting energy into it. Sneeg seems to be holding Austin back in order to help Ranboo, and as such Ranboo winds up being the one fitting through the wall, the other two being crushed. 

He walks away, finding his way into The Puzzler’s lab. He finds a tape recorder from The Puzzler, telling him that if he’s hearing this The Puzzler’s dead. The Puzzler says to look inside the box that’s on the floor, then inside the box that’s in that box, and then box inside that one. Inside the last box is a key, but before Ranboo can do anything with it, H shows up on the tv, saying that they’ve finally been able to get in. Ranboo looks disoriented as his mask flickers on and off. H explains that ‘they’ve’ been using him as a puppet for twisted entertainment, and that none of this is real. Ranboo is still confused until H announces that he’s ‘done it’. Ranboo’s mask turns off and he’s finally able to see. He turns to stare directly at the camera, and begins to walk slowly past directors until he exits the set and turns to stand on a balcony in front of a giant poster of the Showfall logo. Ranboo exclaims ‘What the FUCK’ and the recording cuts out.

#genlossupdates #generation loss #genloss spoilers

[dowhatteverer]

Hetch pitching the social experiments:

"Okay, so we start off with this cabin in the woods that Ranboo is locked in. Ranboo meets Charlie who is covered in slime, except it's not slime it's blood and guts we filtered to *look* like slime. Charlie forces Ranboo to make him a meal out of moldy leftovers and bugs which we then also turn into slime (which again is actually blood and guts) and force Ranboo to do that airplane thing you do with babies to force Charlie to eat the blood and guts. Then Ranboo goes to the slime dimension which is once again just a bunch of blood and guts and when he comes back Charlie is gone, and then he finds Sneeg who is in a cage with Frank's dead body (but we're going to make it look like a plastic skeleton) and frees him. Ranboo sleeps in Charlie's bed while Charlie acts like an idiot behind the Nightmare on Elm Street wall while Sneeg is forced to watch. The next day Sneeg gets mauled by our TV monster, except it's filtered to look like a shark-lobster-pickle thing and Ranboo runs away and traps it and then he fights Charlie and kills him via towel. Then Ranboo goes to a warehouse where we do a little Saw parody with Jerma in his puzzler character. We start with Ranboo just fucking goring Charlie, while he's still conscious. then we do a shotgun carousel with no shotgun and make Ranboo pick each person one by one to help him with each trap (one of the traps is just going to be setting up mousetrap because that game is absolute fucking worst and needs no add-ons) until Ranboo makes it through. THEN we make Ranboo self aware and I convince him I'm trying to help him and have him save everyone. He's going to fuck up at every opportunity though because Ranboo's just like that, and then *I* die giving Ranboo the map to a fake kill switch so he can think he's just shut everything down, but he's still secretly under our control so then he bows to the camera and I appear behind him and I beat him up and knock him out. Then I hook him onto an iron-maiden box thing for his head and make our live audience vote for him to die or continue with this torture forever. The end.

The founder, fucking baffled yet slightly intrigued:

"Okay... What would you even call this?"

Hetch:

"The Aristocrats"

#generation loss

[duskkodesh]

I've had rats for years at this point now and finally want to put down the best tips I've learned. This won't work for everyone, some are very conditional to me, but maybe some of these will help someone. Fleece hammocks: Boo. Microplastics and too warming. Canvas hammocks: Yes, please. Highly washable. Far more tough. I wish they were easier to find. Coiled rope baskets are also a godsend. I hang them by the handles in the cage, they love them way more than anything marketed to rats. Bottles are nice but some rats wanna splash and have a place to wash their little hands. Fresh in pod peas are by the pound at my supermarket. I usually spend 70 cents on the amount for several treat sessions. All my frozen peas end up getting freezer burnt by the time I get halfway through the bag. Antibiotics will be needed if you keep rats. Do not give antibiotics with dairy, many classes of antibiotics bond to calcium thereby making them far less effective. Speaking of, antibiotics seem to have the hardest taste to cover up. Ground meat baby food, Hershey simply five syrup (Just a little), peanut powder (No added sugar, oils), fruit compote/jam/jelly, small absorbent bread snacks/cereal, smushed pasta, cream of wheat, are all options to get meds into rats. You can call exotic vets and ask for an estimate on a basic rat exam. Do it, the prices vary WILDLY. We had a vet who charged us 35$ to see three rats at once and one who quoted us 200$ to look at one. You're gonna notice a trend if you call vets in higher class/rich areas. Fuck em'. Also ask your vet if you can keep a supply of meds on hand just in case. If they last at room temp you can buy some preemptively. Things like doxycycline you can get from human pharmacies.

Zip ties are god. All hail zip ties. Same with swivel clasps. Between them both you can cage mount anything your heart desires.

Leave bedding in a hot car or freezing conditions for a night. Warehouses get mites. Mites are a dick to deal with. Kill em' all.

Give them a variety of fresh things while they're young. Not always but sometimes I'd get an older gent rescue who had no idea what to do with berries or tomatoes and would refuse them. They learn better what is safe when young. At some point you will have an emergency. Make sure you know where an emergency vet is and that they keep night/weekend hours. Keep funds on hand for that day.

Rats hide pain well. When they age you may need to start pain management if you notice them moving differently even if they don't show their pain blatantly. Just start with low doses and see if they act like their old selves again. Research your breeders. Get recommendations from other rat people. Check and see if there are rat rescues in your area. Also the Humane Society sometimes takes in rodents.

Controversial take: You will encounter people in ratkeeping who say buying feeders is a sin. It's not. Feeder supply will exist whether or not every rat fancier boycotts them. We are far far fewer in number than snake/lizard people. Wherever you got your rats it's valid so long as you give them healthcare, good nutritious food, love, and mental stimulation. A lot of the 'foods to avoid, foods to include' lists are not researched. I've seen lists that ban chocolate. Rats freaking love chocolate they just need to take it easy on fats and sugars but cocoa powder can be a good mix in and can help ratty blood flow. I've seen people ban mango. if you read the study that led to this they gave rats an obscene amount of D-limonene to trigger cancer and small amounts had no side effects at all. Read the studies, look for sources.

#Rats #Ratblr #fancy rats #pet rats #petblr #I'm gonna take heat over my view on feeders

[letsunity]

With Thunder Comes Lightning

Summery: Peter and MJ tried again, but the spark wasn't there; they stay as friends to raise their soon-to-be daughter. Everything was going great until evil goop and a spooky vampire guy fall out of an orange portal. Little does Peter know that the biggest pain in his ass and future mutant best friend has landed right at his feet.

art by @Aba_zakyX

Chapter 2 -  Never Left Behind

Peter crouched on the rooftop, scowling at the location where his friends and co-workers were killed.

The police were gone, finally.

He swung down, landing outside of the police tape barrier. Even in the dark, Peter could see the damage. The road, pavement, and even the walls of buildings were horrifically corroded.

Anybody that lived nearby was evacuated, and the smell alone was telling. Toxic fumes that would kill a regular person hung like menacing mistletoe.

Peter can see the outlines of what used to be his comrades.

"Was there anything I could've done for them?" Peter asked, knowing his new buddy was standing behind him.

"No. They died quicker than most, so that's a small mercy."

It didn't feel like it.

Miguel stalked past Peter, making no sound despite his size. He wandered around the crime scene, examining the spots where Peter's comrades used to be.

He saw the eye markings narrow intently, analysing everything. He watched Miguel pause at a single spot, prodding something.

Hopping over the tape, Peter joined his side, finding charred bone sticking from the concrete. It made him feel sick.

It was a femur, and the size betrayed that it was Luke Cage's bone.

Peter had to lift his mask, emptying his stomach. Seeing his friend reduced to that made him ill. Regret, grief and guilt swarmed Peter like locusts to an open field. Ten plagues danced throughout his soul, and come to the final wrath, was no lamb's blood on his door to save him from the inner pain.

Pain fused and interwoven with anger.

That fucking thing killed his friends, stripped them to the bone and ate them. It was Peter's fault, of course. If he just listened, he would've been irritating Murdock about something dumb and boring.

He won't get those fun team-ups anymore.

"You were close," Miguel stated, though no emotion was in his voice.

"Yeah, we were," Peter answered, feeling a hollowness start to claw in his chest. "He helped MJ and me move into our new place. Cage was a good man. All he did was help people; he didn't deserve to go like this."

"The greatest stars shine the brightest but are snuffed the fastest. It's a saying in Nueva York. The good fall and become the stairs for the wicked to climb higher."

"How can somebody be reduced to nothing but a step?"

"By something that never valued life in the first place. Life tends to be most valuable when it's already gone."

"What book did you get that from? Because damn."

"My mother."

"Must be a smart lady."

"She was. Better than I could ever be."

"I feel the same about Aunt May and Uncle Ben. It's hard comparing yourself to great people when you're a major fuckup."

He heard a gruff of agreement.

Aunt May was a pillar of Peter's life, his mother figure, a great woman he aspired to be like. While Uncle Ben gave him the "With great power, comes great responsibility", May was the one who taught him what that meant.

It would be helpful if she were here. She always knew what to do, but Peter was a bumbling mess.

How could he be a father when he causes the death of his friends?

"Parker!"

Peter swivelled to his teammate, watching as Miguel stalked towards an alleyway.

"You find something?"

"A trail. He might still be nearby."

Peter could avenge them. He could do something right.

That bastard was going to pay for what he did.

He stuck close to Miguel's side, trying to see what he did. The other Spider behaved like a hunter, tracking his prey, slowly reaching a warehouse.

It's surprising how many of those there are in New York.

"Do you smell that?" Miguel asked, lowering himself cautiously. "Unnatural decay is always a sign."

He nodded to rot in the concrete walls that shouldn't be there.

Klyntarus sucked life from everything, even if it were inanimate.

The duo snuck towards a window, peeking into the darkness within. It looked abandoned and derelict, but there was far too much inside for that to be. There are expensive crates of valuables.

Although the date stated it arrived only a few days ago, the wood of the crates looked like they were left to the elements for years.

Unnatural rot, a tell-tell trait of Klyntarus' presence.

Miguel held a finger to the window, a claw popping out of the finger pad. He jostled the lock and pushed the window up slowly.

"How do I get some of that in my suit?"

"They're not part of the suit."

"So, you've got actual claws?"

"You stick to walls; I get claws."

"You can't stick to walls? Dude, seriously?"

"Not the time, Parker."

"What else have you got? Or don't have?"

"Silencio!" Miguel hissed, "We don't want him to know we're here."

That made sense.

Peter was still curious, though. He recalled how Noir had more endurance, that Penni was quick, and Porker had "Hammerspace". Then there was Gwen, who had far more agility than the others and Miles could go invisible.

Do all Spider-people have something unique to them?

It felt like Peter only had extra weight. That sucked.

The warehouse stank of decay. There's a scorched trail on the floor and suspicious mounds of former people. The gang must've been trying to protect them.

Out of curiosity, Peter looked in one of the crates, finding several packaged gadgets. There are all kinds of Apple devices, some Windows, Samsung, Sony and more. It must be a warehouse for a supermarket or a store, maybe even a shopping mall.

He came here to fix that sphere thing, didn't he? Eat the people inside and use the technology to repair himself.

Peter started to shake, his Spider senses going haywire. He webbed to the ceiling, attaching to it, unable to stop the shivering. He couldn't turn his head when Miguel joined him, his claws deep into the wall.

Fear sang throughout his bones, a NASCAR race of terror screeching in his very atoms.

The image of his friends melting into ash clouded his vision, a fog that was so thick it clung to the back of his throat. The weight of guilt caused his grip to loosen, but Miguel caught him.

Feeling someone touch him managed to snap Peter out of being frozen, Miguel's arm tight around his waist.

His fellow Spider released his grip, landing on a high support beam. He attached to it instantly, his fingers gripping the metal so tight that it dented.

A door opened, giving Peter something to distract himself with. He watched as Black Cat stumbled into the warehouse, but his senses warned that it wasn't her.

Miguel gripped Peter's shoulder, keeping him from going to her.

"Lo siento..."

He didn't understand what that meant. He would find out, though.

Black Cat shivered, gripping her arms as slime leaked from her face. He could smell the burning flesh already.

The skin went first, then the fat, the fascia and the muscle; it melted away until there was only blackened bone. That, too, was destroyed, reduced to mere ash.

Fuck, not Felicia. She was finally getting her life together with her new wife.

The offending sludge that took his friend twisted and coiled, creating a humanoid-like body. The "scars", as Miguel called them, pulsed akin to a heartbeat; those red eyes locked onto an office room.

"I'll distract him. Destroy the stabiliser."

"And leave you to fight him alone? Daredevil, Cage, Jones, She-Hulk and Iron Fist didn't do squat together."

"You burn, I don't. Simple as that. Move fast and get this over with, Parker."

Before Peter could argue, Miguel jumped to the ground, alerting Klyntarus.

"Ahh, 2099, you still live," Klyntarus chuckled almost gleefully. "I'll admit, you hurt me badly. I'm proud."

Safe to say that Klyntarus is distracted.

Peter crawled on the ceiling, making his way towards the office. It looked rotten, more than the rest of the building, so he must be hunkered in there. As soon as Peter destroys that damn thing, they can burn the bastard.

"Shove it. You know what I'm here for."

"You don't have a Venom Burst, so that'll be mighty tough. And your fancy trinket is broken, so negative on the backup, not even that sassy little assistant. You're all alone, 2099. Just the way I like you."

Even in his injured state, he was taunting and acting like he wasn't in danger. Hopefully, he was so up his ass - or the Symbiote equivalent - he won't realise that Miguel's distracting him.

Peter's senses were on the fritz, panicking like a bucking rodeo horse. He had to focus, though. The sooner they break this bastard, the fewer people will die.

Klyntarus wandered away from the office-like part, the tail-like appendage dragging on the floor. He was giggling, fixated on Miguel.

"Just like Alchemex Tower; cuando huiste como el maldito cobarde que eres."

Peter lowered himself to the floor as carefully as possible, using all two decades of experience. When his feet touched the ground, he crept towards the office, the pungent smell staining his suit.

Thankfully, Klyntarus was too focused on Miguel to notice him. Occasionally, narcissists were much easier to fight than competent people.

The door was melted like ice cream on a hot day, nothing more than squishy splinters.

On a desk that was soon to crumble was the damned sphere he should've stamped on before.

"Ahhhh, memories. That was a grand day. For me, of course. How is my old stomping ground? Been a while since I last visited."

That's right, big guy. Keep him distracted.

"Nueva was never yours. Nothing of my or any other dimension is."

Peter cracked his knuckles, uncertain how he was going to destroy it. It's already damaged; the parts strewn about were signs of an attempted repair.

All Peter had to do was undo the repairs. That should be simple enough. Right?

He picked up a crowbar lodged in the wall, potentially from a worker fighting for their life.

"It's cute that you believe that. It was always mine and always will be, just like you. You belong to me, 2099. You'll realise that soon enough."

What did Klyntarus mean by that? His damned curiosity was starting to interfere with the objective.

"I promised to kill you. I don't break promises."

"Aww, but you do, don't you? You broke the one to your whore mother and mistake of a daughter - I know you'll taste even sweeter than she did!"

Oh, fuck.

Miguel had a kid. He was a dad like Peter would be, and Klyntarus took that from him.

That's what he meant - isn't it? When he said that Klyntarus made him Spiderman. He took Miguel's family.

"Estás muerto!"

"Only on the inside, little Border Rat! And like little Gabrielle," he taunted, cackling like the lunatic he was.

So not only is he a genocidal dimension eater but racist, too. Great. A cherry on top of the corrupted cupcake.

Peter struck the sphere with the crowbar, hitting it as hard as possible.

He heard a demonic, distorted screech of surprise and rage. The ground under him started to rumble violently. He saw a black and red mass racing towards the office through the window, barrelling like a bat out of hell.

Glowing orange webs wrapped around the parasite, pulling him back.

With each strike, Peter could feel the integrity weaken, and sparks started to fly. His spidey senses were on fire, writhing with panic and terror.

His tingles screamed, forcing him to jump and stick to the ceiling. A spear-like tendril shot through the window, glass falling like spilt glitter. It reared back and went for Peter, trying to impale him.

He hadn't let go of the stupid sphere, digging his fingers so hard into it that they were beginning to bleed through his suit.

Peter pounced out of the doorway, swinging to the rafters. A thick tendril went after him but couldn't even graze his suit.

The spikes on Miguel's forearms had fused into blades, slicing through like a hot knife to butter.

"I will kill everything you hold dear!" Klyntarus vowed, chasing after Peter with astonishing speed.

Miguel leapt onto Klyntarus' "face", starting to sink instantly. He clawed at Klyntarus' eyes, following them whenever they moved to escape his onslaught.

"Go, now!" Miguel yelled, his mask disappearing. "¡Rápido, rápido!" his eyes were almost glowing as red as Klyntarus'.

Peter kicked a skylight open and started running.

Get somewhere high and far, beat this blasted thing and save the day. And don't you dare die, big guy.

As much as Peter wanted to go somewhere and focus only on destroying the sphere, he couldn't leave his comrade behind. It wasn't right.

It wasn't right when Peter left Miles behind. He should've treated the kid better. He can't change that, but he can do better now.

Klyntarus wanted Miguel alone. Unfortunately for him, Peter wasn't going to allow that.

Peter hopped to a rooftop, looking for somewhere to hide the sphere. He didn't know if it had an actual name; it didn't matter.

He found an old pigeon hutch-house thingy, and although it's about as flimsy as wet paper, it's still better than nothing. He carefully placed the ominous orb inside, hoping he wouldn't be the only Spiderman again.

It's nice to have someone like you around, even if they're a little prickly.

Great. It's somewhere safe.

Roughly.

Peter hurried back, worried at what that crazy thing could've done by now. He felt terrible leaving his houseguest alone, especially with how twisted Klyntarus was.

The skies began to open, rain falling with haste.

He was worried about MJ. He learned how vindictive Klyntarus was; it put her in grave danger. Their unborn child was at risk.

He didn't listen and was paying the price for it. He still wasn't.

Miguel told him to go, and here he was, running straight back to a fight he couldn't win. It would be wrong to leave someone behind to a monster like that. How could Peter ever live with himself knowing he let somebody die?

It's painful enough with his friends, his old captain, his uncle, his aunt - his entire family except for his best friend and soon-to-be child. Not even Felicia was around anymore.

He missed the other spiders - Noir, Peni, Porker, Gwen, Miles; they showed him he wasn't alone.

They taught him that he could be a better man.

That kid saved Peter's life in more ways than one. He gave Peter hope for the future again. He got Peter to face his fear of parenthood and wanted Miles to be the baby's middle name - that kid was an inspiration.

What would Miles think if Peter was told to run and didn't go back to help somebody? The hypothetical disappointment was terrifying.

He had somebody else to add to the list of fellow spiders.

In a way, spider people are a unique species, close but different to humanity. It's so weird - since he got bitten, he felt like he was the last of his kind, only to find others.

Peter crouched atop the warehouse roof, hearing the wrathful shrieking of Klyntarus inside. His spidey senses were terrified, demanding that he flee and never return as Miguel ordered.

Narrowing his eyes, Peter looked through the broken window, searching for any dark blue.

"Where is it, you revolting abomination?!" Klyntarus roared, smashing everything inside the warehouse. "Where!?"

Finally, Peter spotted his teammate.

Klyntarus had him pinned to the wall, writhing darkness constricting around him.

"Debajo del sofá!"

"Oh, you think you're being cute!?" Klyntarus seethed, tightening his hold.

"Soy tan mono!"

Peter needed to learn Spanish immediately.

In a rage, Klyntarus threw Miguel into the other wall, then slammed him into the floor with a tendril. With the velocity, Peter knew that it hurt, but even so, the other Spider was making fun of the parasite.

Yep, he's a spider.

He waited with his web-shooter at the ready. As expected, Klyntarus threw the other Spider again, and Peter fired.

The web attached to Miguel's back, and Peter pulled, his spider senses panicking as Klyntarus shrieked again.

"I told you to run," Miguel hissed as Peter aimed for the nearest building. "Why'd you come back?"

"Never leave a spider behind, twinkle toes!" Peter stated, feeling the roof under them start to shake. "That's not good."

A black tendril shot from behind Peter, wrapping around his arm and pulling him down. Although Miguel went to grab him, he only succeeded in scratching Peter's hand.

Those claws hurt!

"You!" Klyntarus roared, engulfing much of Peter's body with his mass. It burned, regardless of his superhuman endurance. "I will make you watch as I destroy everything you love, Parker!"

"I think you're mad at me," Peter snarked, despite the intense weight starting to crush his body.

"I h-AHH!" Klyntarus yelped, those horrid eyes twisting to... Why is Miguel biting his body!? "How dare-no, fuck, no!"

Light blue was growing through the red scars, burning the blackness around them. It quickly reached the part holding Peter, loosening the ironclad grip.

Klyntarus had no choice but to break away from the afflicted part, dropping Peter. The hot ash clung to Peter's suit, quickly hardening in the cold rain falling on them.

He felt hands pulling him as a distorted roar echoed in Peter's ears and the sound of crumbling.

Though his spidey senses were in a panic, Peter struggled to move.

Everything went dark for what felt like a few seconds.

When consciousness returned, he wasn't in a warehouse anymore - or he was, and lay in what remained. He tried to move, but having several tonnes of concrete on you sucks.

Peter's chest hurt, his hand burned like fire, and everything was too dark. His head was thundering.

Peter grumbled, feeling that his leg was stuck. He can move a little, meaning he isn't fully submerged; that's nice.

His eyes blinked, adapting to the lack of light. He saw red eyes, bright and vibrant, but his spidey sense wasn't reacting.

Even so, Peter hit the light.

"¡Ay, coño!"

Oh, shit!

"Miguel?" Peter panted, realising the spooky scars weren't around.

"Hijo de puta, who else?" Miguel hissed, "Try not hitting me while I keep us from being crushed. ¿Te parece bien?"

Everything hurts, but they're still alive.

"The hell happened, man?"

"Caused the building to collapse. You were stuck to the floor, so... I improvised."

When Peter's eyes were fully adapted, he saw what Miguel meant. The man was singlehandedly keeping the building from turning Peter into a paste.

He had it all pushing on his back, but he remained unwavering.

"You could've run," Peter said, unsure why he said it.

"Never leave a spider behind. That's what you said, araña testaruda."

He did. It felt good having that stupidity repaid.

By working together, they managed to push the concrete away, revealing the frigid rain.

Peter's entire body hurt, and he expected his comrade to feel the same.

He wanted a warm bath, hot cocoa, and to listen to MJ's dumb puns. Instead of dad jokes, they had mom jokes.

"Buddy, you allergic to hot cocoa?"

"¿Qué? What, is that a fruit?"

"We've got a lot of things to cross off a list, my guy."

A hot bath was more than warranted.

"My everything aches," Peter sighed, glancing at MJ as she brushed her teeth. "We made progress, at least."

"You two were pretty battered," MJ said, spitting minty spit foam into the sink. "Did you make progress against the evil goop or with Miguel?"

"Both."

"Hmm, there's a "but" in there."

"Miguel had a daughter. Klyntarus killed her. He taunted him about it." His best friend turned, sympathy and fear growing on her graceful features. "And he threatened us. I'm worried he'll come after you and our yet-to-be roommate."

It's an understandable fear, especially given what Klyntarus was.

He couldn't begin to know how Miguel felt. No wonder he was so furious with Peter.

Peter didn't even know the baby in MJ's organic oven, but he would die for them. He couldn't bare having that baby, and some sinister snot comes and takes them away forever.

"Do you think we should leave him alone for a bit?" she asked, wanting to be as accommodating as possible.

Her heart was even more gigantic than all forty-nine states combined.

On a side note, good for Hawaii for their independence.

"No," Peter answered, though he wasn't sure. "I think Klyntarus has kept him alone for long enough."

"I understand the holo-suit a lot more now. You don't need so much detergent to clean it. Also, I think he's allergic to that, too."

"We're gonna need a list."

"A lengthy one." Peter got up, cracking the aching bones in his back. With a sigh, MJ threw a towel into Peter's face. "I don't need to see your little Pete, and I doubt our guest does either."

"For the love of all that is holy, never call it that again."

"No promises."

Peter wrapped the towel around his waist, eager for some pop tarts.

MJ waved as Peter went to the kitchen, spotting their temporary housemate in the living room.

Although he'd like a nice snack, he wanted to see how his new buddy was doing.

He walked into the living room, amused that Miguel still had the sunglasses on.

"Concussion still there?"

"Photophobia," Miguel corrected, sounding tired. "Downside to perfect night vision."

"Do your eyes reflect?"

"Yeah. It's not great."

"And you've got fangs."

"I hate them."

"I think it's cool. You've got some venom that hurts him, too. Oh! Is that what a "Venom Burst" is? A bomb with your venom? That's cool."

Miguel grumbled, hiding his face in a pillow.

It's cool, though.

Where could Peter get fangs?

"Look, big guy, our door's open. We don't have a lock, but you get what I mean - I hope? If not, we're open to talk."

"About what?"

"How that motherfucker... I can only assume it's rough with MJ being pregnant."

"It was two years ago. That she..." he couldn't finish the sentence, but Peter knew what he meant.

Timewise, that would've made Miguel around twenty-five or twenty-four when she died.

"How old was she? If it's alright to ask."

"Eight."

"You were around seventeen or sixteen when you became a dad, huh?"

"How do you know that?"

"I have a thing with guessing people's ages. You look my age, but you're not."

"Well, fuck you too."

"I didn't mean it like that, big guy!" Peter said, quickly backtracking. "You've experienced a lot. That's what I meant."

"You could certainly say that. Is there a point to the inquiry? I'm tired. I don't want to talk about my dead family."

"Alright, let's have pop tarts and then sleep, possibly cry ourselves to sleep. Sound good?"

"Sure thing, little Pete."

That motherfucker has super hearing!?

While Peter should be mad, it's a little funny.

"Only if I get to call you little Miguel."

"Bite me."

"Is that an invitation or an insult?"

"Por el amor de Dios. I'll have something with cheese."

"Great, a toastie it is. I'll turn the lights down for you, big guy."

"Gracias."

He liked having Miguel here. The rapport was fun.

Special thanks to spider-the-bat for the borders!

#ao3 refugee #ao3fic #ao3 might be fucked #ao3 #atsv #across the spider verse #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #oscar isaac is miguel o'hara #peter b parker x miguel o'hara #spiderdads #peter b parker #mj watson #bestie goals mj #plague of the spiderverse series #with thunder comes lightning

[deepouterspacecandy]

Abby at a rave!?!?!

Rave Abby? Holy hell, my heart exploded into a million chromatic sparks when I read this.

Man, this concept makes me SO happy you have no idea.

You’ve now entered my neck of the woods. Welcome. 👽

Let’s fire up the bass cannon. 😈🍄✨️

This is going to be a future fic, no doubt about it, because when I tell you there are pages upon pages of ideas swishing through my mind like lasers—just—I’m smiling so huge right now.

But I’m sweating it out on the treadmill at the moment, and I’ll need to sit with this for a minute to develop some ideas into a proper, fleshed-out story. Or multiple.

Okay. Let's brainstorm for a sec.

It depends on what kind of raver you are. Not all of us enjoy all genres of EDM. Some of us are more fluid. It also depends on whether you’re in an established relationship with her or if you meet at a rave and fall in love which, that’s a whole ass topic in and of itself.

Please let my weak lesbian heart write that one for you amazing souls because good GOD.

A first kiss with Abigail Anderson at a rave is just delicious in every form. Sneaky makeout sessions are also invited to the party if you're both down and being respectful about it.

Maybe the loving vibes and rhythmic grinding start to get to her, and she drags you off into a dark corner. Talk to her about it, I dunno. She's your girl.

The nature of the rave is also a factor to consider.

Is it a bush rave? Are we giving our support to local artists in a deserted warehouse that our energy completely transforms into a whole new realm? Are we talking festivals where you get to freak out about it for months ahead of time (annoying the ever loving hell out of her) before bouncing from stage to stage to discover so many great new—okay.

This is about Abby, not me. Hahaha.

Established relationship Abby is absolutely swaying back and forth behind you to some hypnotic Trance melodies, arms wrapped around your neck so you can lean back against her shoulder and sob when your favourite artist interrupts their set long enough to RUIN you with a beautiful speech about depression and everyone in the crowd is just bawling all around you.

Oddly specific, right? Look away. 🥹💜

She’d press a soft kiss to the top of your head and nuzzle into you, understanding wholeheartedly what it feels like to experience so much stimulation and emotion all at once.

Well, now we’ve got to talk about clothing!

What does she wear? That depends too. But black on black, for sure.

Unless you beg her to go all out with you. The thing is, she definitely pores over her outfits. Understated or not. It’s just that she’s less inclined to paint herself with glitter and don fluffy, flashing earrings.

She doesn’t need anything glitzy because everything she wears electrifies you. It's her deep soul and her presence that stands out most.

Oh god, is she a Techno girl? Trance? Deep House? Trap? Is she a dirty little Drum & Bass gremlin?

What is happening to my brain right now?

Established relationship Abby is also a headbanger because you’re a headbanger, and she’d follow you to the molten core of the earth.

When you’re losing yourself at the rail, rocking out with hundreds of other people you’ve never met, all moving in unison to the heaviest of heavy bass drops, she’s got you caged in (again, from behind) and shielded away from being forced from your spot or squished.

Just be careful not to clip her in the chin with your excited little skull because then you'll have to whip around and apologize with a thousand kisses all over her pretty face.

Back up a tiny bit Abigail, come on.

You can look at her girl, but pretty please don’t touch because that is likely to go sideways rather quickly. Unless you’re consensually swapping Kandi, then you’ve got a special pass.

She secretly adores watching you play with all your new rave gifts. Her heart melts onto the floor at the way you smile down at the beautiful and goofy bracelets that say shit like Space Cadet and PLURfect and Wubz and Rave Daddy.

You give that last one to her, and she wears it with pride.

Abby also wears your god-awful bright purple holographic hydration pack for the same reason she carries the groceries and holds your bag for you back home—but also to keep you from going too hard and not drinking your dang water! You’ll be way too captivated by your surroundings to remember to replenish it, and she’s got your back.

I must stop now because I swear this will go on forever. Time to succumb to the gym stuff and keep being all muscly and whatnot.

I’m so sorry for the ramble, LOL.

Always ask me rave stuff. Always. 💖

#abby the last of us #abby tlou #abby x fem!reader #abby x reader #abby x you #tlou abby #lesbian #tlou part 2

[gunebuggieswriting]

̶Good Bad Habits Run In The Family: Chapter One

DPxDC Crossover, Jason Adopts Danny AU

Summary of whole fic: Jason Red Hood found a teenager hurt in an alleyway, and since he was responsible for the people in his domain, he decided to take him back somewhere safe to take care of him. Turns out, there was a lot more to the situation than Red Hood would have ever anticipated. Including the fact that he was growing attached to the brat who seemed stubborn about everything.

WARNINGS: death (NOT MCD), suicidal thoughts and refrenced/implied attempted suicide, canon-typical violence (These are for the overall story)

PLEASE BE CAREFUL WHEN READING (tho I aim to keep it pretty light)

[AO3] [FF.net] [Wattpad]

First Chapter (you're here) || << Last Chapter (none) || Next Chapter >>

It was supposed to be a regular patrol that night for Red Hood. Crime was moderately average for a place nicknamed Crime Alley, surprisingly only a few muggers decided to play with his patience.

Now though, as he’s staring down an unconscious kid, he figures that no nights in his life were allowed to be normal. The dark headed kid, who was most likely a teen but Hood didn’t care at the moment, had an injury to his side along the rib cage. It looked like a deep cut, but it was already starting to scab over, though he wouldn’t be surprised if it was infected from how the teen was literally laying in a dirty alley. At least they seemed to be breathing still, even if it was dangerously low. What he really didn’t like was that he could barely detect their heartbeat. He couldn’t help but wonder what the twig of a kid had been through to end up like this.

Red Hood sighed to himself, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to leave the kid here where anybody could grab them. Rolling his shoulders, he picked up the scrawny kid, who was a bit too small in his opinion, and tried to get them settled on his back. It was a bit more difficult with the teen being asleep, but he managed. Then he began making his way back to one of his safe warehouses, trying not to jostle the hurt kid on his back too much.

The night was still early, the shadows only growing deeper into the city, claiming the gloomy city as it’s own once again. Red Hood took advantage of it, slinking in and out of one shadow to the next, making sure nobody saw him. If anybody decided to pick a fight right now with him having the kid, well, it probably would be more annoying than difficult, but he’d still rather not do that right now. The teen was beat up enough already without being in a middle of fight unconscious.

With the slow pace he was walking, he was around halfway to the nearest warehouse he knew was safe and had proper supplies at the moment. He probably wouldn’t ever admit it out loud, but he was hoping the teen would be okay. He didn’t want a dead kid on his hands, especially if the kid ended up dying on his back.

While Red Hood was debating on whether or not he should stop for a second to check on the toothpick of a kid again, he felt a slight shift and a small whimper. He froze, turning his head back slightly to try and get a look at them. He expected them to be confused, and most likely scared and disoriented, as what most people would be when they woke up being carried by a stranger. What he didn’t expect was the kid’s eyes to shoot open, showing toxic green eyes that were literally glowing, and to then get bitten in the shoulder. The kid’s teeth somehow even managed to get through the protective padding, sinking slightly into his skin. The once loose arms around his neck tightened, to the point that he was somewhat choking from the tiny arms. How the hell did a twig like this have that kind of strength?

Then the kid straight up jumped off of Red Hood and stumbled on the ground, but stood up nonetheless. There was a wild, panicked look in the short teen’s bright eyes, darting around anxiously. It almost reminded Red Hood of a wild animal who was backed up in a corner, except this was clearly a scared traumatized teen who was most likely a meta. Wasn’t this just great for Hood?

Sighing while rubbing his shoulder, because while the teen’s unnaturally sharp teeth weren't able to completely puncture his skin, it did hurt. “Calm down kid. I’m just trying to help, you’re obviously badly injured.”

The eyes snapped back to Red, and he couldn’t help the unsettling pit that grew in his stomach from what that dangerous green reminded him of. He didn’t want to think of that now however, so he forced himself to focus. Then the teen spoke, “It’ll heal.”

Red Hood snorted, looking at the kid in front of him who was definitely a head and a half smaller than him. He was leaning forward a bit, one arm relying heavily on the wall close to him and his other hand pressing into his wound. “You look like shit, and you probably got an infection from laying on the nasty ground. Seriously, what were you doing there?”

“None of your damn business.” The boy snarled, showing a bit of the sharp fangs that made holes through his suit. “I don’t know who the hell you are or what you want, but I’ll have you know I can and will fight.”

Red Hood had to say, he was impressed by how ballsy the very skinny kid was talking, but also a bit worried annoyed. Did this kid not have any self preservation skills? He could definitely kick this brat’s ass right now if he wanted to.

Wait, did this kid just say he didn’t know who he was? Then it clicked for Red, and he had to resist the urge to pinch his nose from not realizing it earlier. “You’re not from around here, are you?”

When the teenager didn’t say anything but show a few more of those pointed teeth, Red Hood knew his answer. This just got even more difficult. “Well, I don’t know how or why you’re in Crime Alley, but I sorta run this part. You can call me Red Hood, and let’s just say that I’m known as the person who takes care of this dump and the trash within.”

There seemed to be a spark of recognition in the kid then, and his face went from a snarl to a scowl, and Hood didn’t know if that was a good thing or not. “Red Hood, the Red Hood? How the hell did I end up all the way here, I- I.” The kid’s face of panic earlier began to resurface, and Hood took an instinctive step forward.

The teen staggered two steps back.

“Now that you know who I am, how about you let me help you? I can’t have you bleeding to death on me.” The anti-hero said, trying to get this kid to come with him peacefully, because he really didn’t want to have to drag him by force. That’d most likely cause the injury to become more agitated, and that’s the last thing they needed.

“I already told you, it’ll heal.” The young boy’s fear didn’t leave his eyes, but he tried to put on a brave front anyways.

“And I already told you, that I don’t give a shit because you’ll probably die if I don’t do something. Actually you’re already looking a little paler.” Red Hood remarked, folding his arms against his chest.

This time the teen snorted. Red Hood doesn’t know what part of what he said was funny, but he sure didn’t like it. “Alright, you coming with me or not? The quicker we can get you patched up and for you to explain how the hell you got like that, the quicker I can figure this out.”

“I’m not coming with you, and I am definitely not telling you anything. I’ll be just fine on my own.” With that the teen attempted to move off the wall, only to trip over his own foot and almost fall back on the ground.

Red Hood rushed forward, catching the arms of the kid and huffing. “Yep, you’re coming with me, whether you like it or not.”

When Red Hood wrapped an arm around the teen, keeping him balanced enough to walk, he didn’t complain. Instead, they both made it the rest of the way to the warehouse, Red Hood telling the teen to sit down and wait for him to grab some medical supplies. He could feel those disturbing green eyes on him while he was rummaging through the crates of stuff he had kept in here, and even though they seemed to have dimmed down a bit from earlier, they still reminded him too much of the pits. He didn’t like it, but that didn’t mean it was an excuse to not help the poor boy.

“So, does the mysterious kid who likes to bite people who are trying to help have a name?” Red Hood tried, not liking how awkward the silence was.

“Just because you gave me your fake name doesn’t mean I’ll tell you my name.” The boy replied coldly, and Red Hood rolled his eyes, though it wasn’t like the other could see it.

“Brat it is then.” Hood said as he strolled over to the boy and kneeled in front of them, a first aid kit and some other medical equipment in hand. He leaned forward. “I know you don’t exactly trust me-”

“I don’t trust you at all.”

The teen interrupted, but the anti-hero continued on like he never spoke. “-but I need you to take your hand off your side so I can check it, because I have a feeling it may need more than a band-aid.”

“Who said you’d be the one doing the medical shit?” Before Red Hood could point out that the teen was clearly on the border of being called disoriented, the teen kept going. “I can also perfectly take care of myself, as I’ve been doing that long before you arrived.”

“And that’s a good thing brat?” Hood retorted, yanking the first aid kit from the reaching hands trying to take it. “You’ve probably never been taught how to properly take care of your wounds, I bet that’s the reason you passed out in that alley.”

The teen winced, but quickly went back to glaring. “First of all, I was taught the basics of first aid, and second of all, that has nothing to do with how I ended up in this stupid city.” The boy practically spat out the last words, eyes becoming brighter again.

Red Hood started to look closer at the wound, seeing how it was a nasty shade of red, clearly agitated. He kept talking, noticing how it was keeping the half conscious, yet extremely stubborn, kid distracted. “This city may be awful, but as a foreigner, you have no right to shit talk it. Only fellow Gothamites have that privilege, after all, this city gives us something to complain about.”

Hood saw the brat roll his eyes, not even paying attention to the anti-hero as he began to clean the wound a bit, trying to at least get some of the grime off of it. “I’m sure y’all always love something to complain abou-” His words were cut off as he hissed in pain. “Damnit, can’t you be a little more careful?”

“Don’t be such a big baby, I was only just cleaning it a little. I’m pretty sure you’ll be fine, as it seems you heal pretty fast.” Actually, it seemed that from the time at the alley to now that the wound had somehow closed more, the scab forming into a more greenish color. Another sign that the kid was in fact a meta or at least something other. “I might not even need to put anything on it at this rate, though I’d advise not to aggravate it or go sleeping in alleys again.”

“I already know that, I’m not stupid.” Red Hood didn’t know whether he wanted to laugh or punch the teen at this point.

“Whatever, you’re good to go now if you want, I’m sure you have someplace to be.” Red Hood stood up, walking back over to the crates to put up the rest of the medical supplies and to throw away the dirty disinfection wipes.

It was quiet and there was no sound of movement from the boy, and it confused Hood, because he was sure that the kid would bounce as soon as possible. He was not expecting the words that came out of the teen’s mouth, quiet with a hint of bashfulness, but certainly sincere. “Thank you…”

Red Hood turned a bit and looked at the brat, who refused looking at him once so ever. “Whatever, just make sure to be more careful around here, and probably find your way out of Crime Alley. It’s not safe for you.”

Again, there was no movement, and the teen continued to look away. Red Hood felt like something was off.

It was quiet for a few minutes, and the teen broke it once again. “Danny, you can call me Danny.”

Red Hood would be lying if he said he wasn’t taken aback. This kid practically did a whole 360 from his earlier attitude. Maybe he should have checked for a concussion too. “Welp, Danny, I’m glad you decided to take that stick out of your ass, but is there a reason?”

More silence, Red Hood was starting to get tired of those, but he wouldn’t say anything, he could give Danny time.

“I was wondering if I could just stay here for the night, if you don’t mind.” Danny all but mumbled, the older boy barely hearing it. Though, he did hear the question, and the original unnerved feeling Red Hood felt returned, but this time it was different. It wasn’t caused by Danny this time, it was because the words made everything become somewhat clearer, the situation unsettling him. Danny wasn’t just sleeping in that alley for fun it seems. He can't believe he didn't realize it earlier.

“I don’t care how long you stay here, just don’t destroy anything and do not touch anything dangerous in here.” Red Hood managed to say after a few beats of silence, and Danny finally faced him, his eyes now an icy blue, no longer glowing. Red Hood knew that keeping a meta in Gotham who was not from Gotham was dangerous, but anybody could tell that Danny needed help, and Red Hood wasn’t about to ignore that. “I’ll be back tomorrow to check on you and your wound, if you stay that is.”

“Okay… Thanks I guess, but I don’t think I’ll be here long.” Danny whispered hesitantly, then tried and failed to stifle a yawn.

“There should be blankets or something in here somewhere, make yourself comfortable. I gotta go though, I haven’t quite finished my patrol earlier.” Red Hood stated, already beginning to walk away, a small part of him hoping that the brat would actually be here tomorrow.

Welp, this probably won’t end up good.

#dpxdc #dcxdp #dp x dc #dc x dp #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc fanfic #dp x dc fic #fanfic #dc x dp crossover #dc x dp fanfiction #dc x dp fic #dp x dc au #dc x dp au #death #sucidal thoughts #sucidal thoughts tw #death tw #my fic #fic #found family #mild hurt/comfort #jason adopts danny au #mine

[topguncortez]

15 and 11 please!

pairing: Bob Floyd x Female!Reader prompts list! warnings: violence, fighting, blood, mentions of concussions, gambling issues, illegal street fighting, men being men. note: idk why but I am tempted to write more about Bob, his twin brother Rhett and their cousin Rip . . . lemme know if y'all would want that.

Bob knew you were a fighter from the first moment he met you. You were at the Hard Deck and some idiot flyboy grabbed your ass while he was walking by. You grabbed his collar and slapped him, and down right degraded him in front of the whole bar. There was no doubt in Bradley's mind that you couldn't handle yourself, the only problem was, you never knew when to stop.

You grew up with older brothers, and learned to fight at a young age. You weren't sure what brought you more joy, the fight or the money that you made from it. You knew it was illegal, and you knew if anyone in the Navy found out you were cage fighting down at the docks on Saturday nights you'd be court marshaled immediately.

The only person who was privy to your outside of work activities was Bob. And that was because the two of you lived together and he had accidentally walked into your room as you were wrapping your bruised ribs. You swore him to secrecy and he kept it.

Most nights, the fights were fair. You either fought women or weaker men. The fights with the men were what brought you the most money. Everyone loved to see a badass woman take down a skinny man. You walked into the warehouse that night expecting to take on a usual opponent, but Doc, the owner of the warehouse, had set you up.

"What the hell do you mean I'm fighting Jag? He'll kill me!" You exclaimed as your eldest brother, Jesse, tapped your wrists.

"He won't," Doc gave you a greasy smile that didn't sit right in your belly. Doc had been taking care of you since you first started fighting in the warehouse at the ripe age of 16. He knew all too well why you kept fighting, and it was partially because of his doing, "You need this fight. Your line of mercy is running thin."

You looked at your brother who looked down at his feet. You shook your head and stood up, "One round. That's it. Put 45 towards it."

"That's it?" Doc smirked and you glared at him. You could probably take him in a fight if you had to, "You'll do fine. You're Medusa after all."

The last thing you remembered of that night was standing in the ring and hearing the bell ding to begin fighting. You had met Jaguar once, and true to his name, he struck quick and for the kill.

--- --- ---

Bob woke to the sound of clanging coming from the kitchen. He rolled over with a groan and looked at his alarm clock. Most Saturdays you weren't home until the early hours of the morning, sometimes coming home mid Sunday morning. But it was uncommon that you were home before midnight.

He had never been to one of your fights. The idea of you fighting in some cage at a warehouse didn't sit right with him. There was no real officiating, no real rules, no one to call the fight when it got too out of hand. He had seen the bruises and cuts that littered your body and every single one made him sick.

Groaning, Bob pushed himself up from his bed and shuffled his way downstairs. You must've not had a good night if you were home this early, and he wondered what kind of first aid you needed. He expected to see the usual split lip or bruised knuckles, however that was not what he was met with.

"Holy shit, Y/N," Bob said, rounding the counter and coming to you. You looked dazed as you look up at him, your eyebrow split wide open and blood running down your face, "“Oh my god, you’re bleeding!” He grabbed the dish rag from the sink and pressed it to your face.

"Bobby," You slurred, your body somewhat swaying, "I'm home?"

"Do you not remember how you got here?" Bob asked concerned.

"I was at the warehouse and I have a fight," You tried pushing away from Bob but he kept his hold on you. You stumbled over your own feet and fell back into him, "Whoa."

"How long have you been home? How long have you been bleeding?"

"I'm bleed-" You moved Bob's hand away from your face and touched your eyebrow. Your eyes widened at the blood on your fingers and you nearly collapsed again.

"Okay, okay, c'mon," Bob said, keeping you steady on two feet, "I’m taking you to the hospital.”

"No!" You yelled, "You can't. I-I can be kicked out! Arrested!"

"Y/N, you need stitches and probably have a concussion," Bob said, "You need medical help." You felt tears welling up in your eyes as you looked at him. Soft sobs left your lips at the fear that your naval career was about to end, "Hey, it's gonna be okay. You won't get in trouble, I promise. But you can't go to bed without getting this checked out, alright."

"I owe them, Bobby" Your body started to shake, "My brothers, my mom, th-they owe them so much."

"We will figure that out later. We gotta get you checked out and this fixed up," Bob, "I promise, I'll handle this." You nodded your head and Bob picked you up in his arms and carried you to his truck.

Once you had been checked in and examined, and Bob knew that you were going to be okay, he stepped outside to make a phone call. He had been contemplating this phone the whole drive to the hospital, but whatever trouble you had gotten yourself into, was the kind that he knew that they could handle. Bob couldn't even remembered the last time he had reached out to his twin brother and his cousin, but now, he was desperate.

Bob tapped his foot anxiously as the line rang.

"Abbott," The man on the other end answered.

Bob sucked in a breath, "Rhett. . . I need your help. . . Bring Rip to."

#top gun #top gun fan fic #top gun fan fiction #top gun imagine #top gun maverick #top gun maverick fan fic #top gun maverick fan fiction #top gun maverick imagine #bob floyd #bob floyd fan fic #bob floyd fan fiction #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x you #bob floyd x y/n #my asks

[averagewriter777]

Ghost and Doc (Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader)

Masterlist

(Chapter Thirteen)

TW: Child trafficking

(141’s POV)

Ghost slammed his fist on the building, then hopped down from it, rolling to break his fall. When he stood up, Alejandro, Soap and Gaz were waiting with very stressed looks on their faces. Price had the tracking handled, so they were just waiting for him to get back to them about a possible location.

“That entire party was full of women who were being prepared for that trafficking business,” Soap muttered while rubbing his wrist. “The people seemed to be sponsors or some shit for it. The women attending as guests are victims.”

Alejandro nodded grimly. “They handed me a stack of pesos while talking to the sergeant.” He squared his shoulders while sighing. “I saw it happen a lot. The money was around 10,000 United States dollars for the sergeant, 194,667 pesos. Different people received different amounts based on the woman.”

Holy shit. Ghost shuffled his feet uncomfortably. Soap made a disgusted face and spit at the ground. Gaz let out a shaky sigh, despite having watched everything. “More of the reason to get her back. I think that was the highest amount paid for somebody,” Soap grumbled.

“If you girls are done talking, I have Sergeant (L/n)‘s final location.” Price’s voice through the static filled the area, and everyone shut up to listen intently. “An abandoned warehouse on the coast. Be prepared for anything. Remember that we need the target alive, everyone else you have permission to kill, copy?”

Everyone repeated ‘copy’ back and the mission was set to go. Ghost lifted a tablet that was given- in case this happened- and pointed at the location sent by Price. “I know where that is. I’d suggest we all change into gear, hermanos. I didn’t make our suits bulletproof.”

-

When you woke up in your position, your head was pounding and your mouth was dryer than the Sahara Desert. You’d been in a sitting position up against a cold, metal wall. Despite the amount of pain that was everywhere in your body, you did your best to stand up, holding onto the bars around you for support.

“It’s no use you know,” a petite, hoarse voice said from under you. You looked down, your breath hitching in your throat. “We’ve… We’ve tried everything.” She was young, probably around thirteen or fourteen, and she looked beaten.

Instead of continuing to stand, you dropped down to a crouch- very slowly and examined her. “I’m here to help, I promise.” You didn’t reach for her, or touch her, because only God knows what this kid has been through. “Do you have a name?”

“Kensie,” she mumbled, not meeting your eyes. The girl curled up into a ball and stared at the stone floor. You took it as she didn’t want to talk anymore, and went back to figuring out how the hell you were going to get out of this inhumane cage.

While you waited for the next round of guards to walk towards the cage, you formed a half-assed plan in your head. In this situation, and in a fucking mermaid dress no less, it would be the best you could do. When you saw one man carrying a very nice AK-47, you whistled to call him over. “Hey, guapo!” He turned his head and started his walk towards you, lowering his weapon just a little bit. When he got close enough to the cage, you reached out to grab the collar of his shirt and slammed his head against the metal bar. Instead of staggering back, you turned his body around and put him into a chokehold, snapping his neck when given the opportunity. 

You bent down and picked up the gun, making sure it had plenty of ammo in it. “Alright, assholes… c’mon…” The dead body was picked up again, sort of as a cover just in case- and it looked suspicious enough for someone to approach. What you had to watch out for, however, was the fucking man in the white suit who’d you’d talked to at the party. Can’t shoot him- as much as you want to.

“¿Has oído algo junto a las jaulas?” Several footsteps started to approach the side of the room. You made sure your finger hovered over the trigger and looked over the dead man’s shoulder. “Alex, ¿todo bien?”

Your finger pressed the trigger of the gun after aiming for their heads. The volume of the weapon was something you hated, but there was nothing else available around for you- and quite frankly, you were pissed off.  “Karma’s a bitch, pendejos.”

There were sounds of gunfire all throughout the building, but you were more worried about getting out of this cage. You reached into the pocket of the body you’d used as a shield and tried four keys before the fifth finally unlocked the cage. As the door opened and you were reloading the gun, and picking up a knife from a body, you turned to face Kensie, who was rocking back and forth. “C’mon, I told you I was here to help. We’re getting out of here.”

Kensie couldn’t move from her spot, so you took her hands, despite the poor girl flinching, and helped her up. “I want you to stay behind me, okay? If I tell you to stop, you stop. And if I tell you to hide, please hide, okay?” You squeezed her hands reassuringly and then started to walk forward, the girl trails behind.

(Part Fourteen)

#mwii #ghost mw2 #john soap mactavish #ghost x female reader #ghost x you #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #simon riley x reader #captain price

[clickerflight]

Fleeting: Part 3 - Our Employer

This is where the plot starts >:3

Masterlist

Part 2

Content: Multiply whumpees, vampire whumpees, Caustic powders in the face, fighting and biting, kidnapping, silver burns, cage, cuffs

...............................................

Esial pursued the fruit section of the quiet supermarket where he and Joseph were collecting breakfast for the day before Joseph went on his shift at the rehab center and Esial went to work at the zoo. He was also very carefully ignoring the allure of the lunchables. He could practically feel them staring at him in the fridge behind him as he looked over the apples and peaches. He did not need a lunchable. He needed something real to eat, not crackers and fake meat and cheese and whatever they put in there to make them so enticing. 

He dragged his mind from that and to Joseph. He’d been pretty quiet on the drive over today and Esial was pretty sure he knew why. Joseph still probably felt bad about overstepping that boundary about Kyle and decided it was better to be quiet for the time being, but it was almost off putting for Joseph to be keeping to himself so much. Esial liked listening to Joseph’s commentary as they did mundane things. It allowed him to learn new words and keep up with the language as it changed. It seemed to change much faster than it did before he was in stasis. 

Esial sighed, putting down the apple he had been looking at and coming around the fruit displays where Joseph was quietly deciding between salad mixes. Esial put a hand on Joseph’s shoulder, which was just tall enough to be bordering on awkward. People had gotten so tall as well. 

Joseph jumped slightly, looking at Esial and smiled. “Hey. I’m almost decided and then we can head out.”

“No, you are fine. You have time. I wanted to speak with you. I am not angry or upset, you know,” Esial said quietly. 

“What?”

“About last night. When you talked about Kyle. I am not angry. It is fine. I understand that you want us to be friends, and maybe we will get to be one day, but not now.”

Joseph groaned softly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, Esial. I didn’t… yeah. Okay. I’m sorry.”

“No need,” Esial replied, patting Joseph’s shoulder. “It is fine, as I said. I would like to be friends with Kyle and have the chance to thank him, but it can wait until we are both more comfortable. Now, I need you to keep me from getting lunchables today. They are absolute wonders of this modern world, but they are not actually enough to sustain me.”

Joseph snorted. “Yeah, well, normal food doesn’t technically sustain you either, Esial.”

“It sustained me well enough for century,” Esial said defensively. 

“Didn’t you tell me that you were sick all the time.”

Esial scoffed and rolled his eyes. “It did not stop me from killing hippo.”

Joseph chuckled, leading the way back to the fruits to help choose everything out. Once they were done and checked out, they made their way to Joseph’s car so he could drop Esial off at the zoo. 

The drive was more normal now, with Joseph making a commentary as they went. Esial was fairly certain he knew more fun facts about the city and everything within it than actual useful skills. 

“Oh, when does your shift end today?” Joseph asked as he stepped out of the car in the zoo parking lot, the horizon the soft blue color that comes from morning steadily approaching. 

“Around 1,” Esial replied. “You will have to come pick me up in warehouse.”

“We can do that,” Joseph said, pocketing his keys as he walked Esial to the employees entrance like he did every day. “I’ll text Muir so he knows in case I get busy. I think he usually takes his break around then so he can pick you back if my meeting runs long.”

“I can call rehab drivers if you are unable to pick me up,” Esial said with a shrug. “It is fine.”

Joseph shrugged. “I’ll let Muir know anyway.”

They were almost out of the parking lot when three men in dark suits stepped out of a black van. Esial nudged Joseph who hadn’t noticed as he was texting his bond mate. 

“Look at them. They look like they are from spy movie,” Esial said, amused. He wondered if they were government agents of some kind here to inspect the zoo. They were dressed a bit formally though.

Joseph frowned, looking up to see the men approaching, a fourth getting out of the car, but hanging back. “Let’s hurry up to the entrance,” he said quietly. 

Esial nodded, moving a bit quicker, but the men were on them faster than expected. A hand on each of their shoulders slowed them down as the head of the group said, “Hello. If you wouldn’t mind, we just have a couple of questions for you.”

Joseph turned quickly, throwing the hand off of his shoulder. “Oh, right. And who are you?” He asked, trying to edge Esial back towards the zoo. 

The two men behind the leader shared a look as the leader smiled, white polished teeth seeming to glow in the dim early morning light. “We are just representing our employer. He is a connoisseur of ancient artifacts and knowledge. He had heard of your friend here and sent us to just ask a couple of questions and see if a meeting could not be arranged between the two of them.”

“Right,” Joseph said, straightening himself out and pulling out a business card. “You can have your employer know that he can contact me at this number or call the rehab center itself. My friend still has some rehab to go before he can answer any questions, but we can certainly guide you through the process of arranging that meeting when the time comes that he is available for such things. There are rules now, after all,” Joseph said, a little sharply. He honestly got this question fairly often when people learned how old Esial was, and he was tired of people treating all ancient vampires as though they were dusty old books instead of people who have been through a traumatic experience. 

The leader tilted his head. “Oh, my employer pays very well, and it won’t be a long or strenuous meeting. Your friend and our employer may have more in common than they know.”

“Again, you can contact me or the rehab center through the proper channels,” Joseph said, his tone brooking no argument. “Good morning to you.”

He turned, keeping a hand on Esial’s back.

That lasted about 2 seconds before someone had a hold on his collar. Joseph reached back, trying to grab at the man who had him. Esial turned with a snarl, sharp fangs on display as he launched himself at the men who had been trying to come for him. He growled and fought, hearing Joseph fighting with the other man behind him coughing and rasping. 

Esial dodged every attempt to grab him, snatching one man’s arm and biting down, twisting his head to rip at the flesh before having to dodge out of the way again. The injured man fell back just as he heard a thud behind him and smelled something that made his throat itch. 

The man who had been fighting with Joseph came into view and threw something into the air. Esial tried to dodge it, but ended up in a cloud of dust that burned at his eyes and throat, sending him to the ground pawing at his face, gagging and coughing. 

Someone landed on him, full force, pouring more of whatever that powder was directly onto his face. He spasmed, the powder burning his skin\ and getting into every crevice as they forced his hands behind his back, clasping something that felt like leather around his wrists. No. It was leather covering something. Something he couldn’t break. 

He was dragged over the pavement, gagging and spitting as they hauled him up into something. He was thrown and screeched as his face made contact with something hot and sharp, like toaster wires. 

He flinched back, getting seated, still unable to see as something was slammed next to him, clicking into place. There was another thud and then the sound of a car door closing. 

Esial bent his knees, wiping his mucus and tear stained face off on his pants, trying to get his eyesight back. His throat felt like it was filled with cotton as the men got into the car, one of them swearing as it started up and they backed quickly out of the lot. 

Esial gasped for air, prying one burning eye open. He could make out the shine of silver. He figured that was what had burned him. He seemed to be in a cage made of it, bolted down in the back of the van. There was a partition between the back and where the men were likely sitting. Esial looked around at the walls of the car, seeing strange tools and implements he didn’t really understand before his red and watery eye landed on Joseph. 

Joseph laid on the ground, his arms also shackled behind his back, and while his face was red and irritated, he didn’t seem responsive. 

“Joseph,” Esial hissed, struggling with the bindings even though he knew they were made of leather wrapped silver. “Joseph! Wake up!”

Joseph didn’t even twitch as Esial snarled, turning in his cage to see if there was any way out. The padlock seemed to also be made of silver, and Esial knew he wouldn’t really be able to even get to it with his hands cuffed behind his back.

He growled, throwing his clothed shoulder into the cage, but all he got for his troubles was a sensation of heat through the fabric and a new pain to go along with the irritation in his nose and throat, though he had cried enough to clear his eyes. 

He finally calmed down enough to listen to the men at the front of the van, the partition not being thick enough to keep the sound out. 

“It bit me!”

“Your worker’s comp will cover it.”

“Yes, but it hurt! Vampire bites aren’t supposed to hurt this much!”

“Ancient ones do. Trust me, you should be grateful that the boss doesn’t trust you enough to feed on you.”

Esail bared his teeth again. Another ancient vampire was doing this? Why? What was the point?

Wait… the men had mentioned their boss collecting ancient artifacts. Did that mean their boss wanted Esial himself or to know more about the amulet his father had made for him? But he lost that amulet 5000 years ago. It wasn’t like he knew where it was anymore. 

The men quieted down for the rest of the trip and Esial satisfied himself with craning his neck to see if Joseph’s phone was still in his pocket. If it was, Muir would likely be able to follow them, even if he and Joseph didn’t have their connection. It was alright. Muir would come find them and it would be alright. They would be rescued and safe and whoever did this would hopefully go to prison…. Hopefully. Esial had been learning about how ineffective that system was in the face of money, and whoever the boss was here seemed rich. 

He would just have to wait either way. He wasn’t getting out of this van on his own. 

Part 4 - Coming soon

From Dust to Ashes: @whumpsday @honeycollectswhump @writereleaserepeat @tragedyinblood @hyrules-sleepiest-knight @why-not-ask-me-a-better-question @thecyrulik @gt-daboss @currentlyinthesprial @pigeonwhumps @not-a-space-alien

#whump writing #whump #vampire whumpee #multiple whumpees #fleeting #esial #joseph #caustic powders #fighting #biting #kidnapping #silver burns #cage #cuffed #the boiiiissssss! #are having a bad tiiiiime! #Who would have guessed lol #here comes the plot