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cottoncandy-cult · 8 months

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Masrur X Slave! Reader

So the first time I heard Masrur my heart hurt because he sounded so familiar, upon looking it up his voice actor is actually the voice actor of Mikoto Suoh from K... 😭 I'm so stuck cause I'm “happy” cause they are similar characters so it's like "Yay! The Red King lives on!" But then it's like memories of his death and die all over x.x

Tw mentions of slavery and abuse brief description of bodily injury

It was a beautiful day in Sindria, Sinbad and his generals had decided to take a walk through the kingdom that afternoon and see how the citizens were fairing. They had just made their way to the outskirts, walking along a trail through a small, forested area in the northern part of the kingdom. The sides of the trail were slightly raised and lined with fruit trees and flowery bushes; it was a rather beautiful place given the various colorful array of flowers that bloomed throughout the area. Though soon they came to a stop when the sound of a loud rustling to their right reached them, like something was just hauling ass through the forest.

Masrur could hear the individual footsteps, and easily made out that they were human, given their pace he moved to shift to a fighting stance just in case. But then a young girl came tumbling through the greenery, falling rather hard to the sandy ground bellow. He could hear her whimper as she pulled her battered body upwards to sit on her knees, she was definitely a fenalis, though her hair was a bit of a lighter pink which had likely meant she was kept somewhere dark. It was almost like cotton candy, at least what he could see that wasn't tangled with blood and mud.

Her body had barely been covered by a grey ragged dress with splatters of blood old and fresh easily seen, what could be scene of her body was a sad sight. Her skin was covered in scars, some being faded while others appeared to have only recently healed, though most concerning were the open gashes on her back. The back of her dress was a shredded and bloody mess, showing that she had been whipped rather violently within the last few hours. She was much smaller than someone her age should have been, the girl clearly being underfed. The chains on her wrists and broken shackles on her ankles told them all else they needed to know; she was a slave.

Slavery was something not allowed within Sindria, infact slave owners were punished quite severely when caught passing through. "Miss are you ok?.." Sinbad spoke softly but still she jumped; the small female tried to move away but she merely fell over with a whimper. She was severely injured, her pain rendering her frail body near immobile. She couldn't move and she was obviously terrified, though when Sinbad began to approach, she didn't try to run again. Instead, she closed her eyes and curled up with a sob, it made Masrur's heart clench though he did not show it. The girl was broken, having been mistreated for so long that she was quick to submit and accept the beating she expected as she knew any more resistance could hurt her more.

"Hey now it's ok, I'm not gonna hurt you." The others slowly approached, Masrur moving the closest as he kneeled down and listened to Sinbad's words. That's when something came to mind, his large hands were gentle when taking her small hand in his own before he pressed it over his heart. He felt something spark in him as he watched her calm down, she watched him as he reached up to wipe her tears. The purple haired leader quirked a brow but when he noticed how she seemed to calm he tried again. "I am Sinbad, the ruler of Sindria. These men are my generals, we simply want to help you. Will you let us?"

The girl glanced away from Masrur for a moment to lock eyes with Sinbad before looking back to the fellow Fenalis, Masrur had given a slight head nod and so she returned to looking at Sinbad before nodding her own head. Masrur, careful as can be, lifted the girl bridal style and tucked her against his chest. He knew she was hurt and didn't want to make it worse; he didn't want to cause her any more pain. Though before the group could leave a creepy voice was heard from just beyond the bushes, it creaked and cracked like a demon of the old world. "My sweet songbird where have you gone? Must I clip your wings for you to stay?"

The girl had tensed with a quiet whimper, nestling into Masrur as he held her closer. An older man could be seen walking out of woods from the right of the path, he carried a sickle as he creeped closer to the group. His wicked grin and sunken eyes creeping out some of the generals, he certainly didn't seem like one of the good guys. The old man stopped about 15 feet from them when he realized the girl was in the arms of the large fenalis, though Sinbad and Jafar quickly blocked the two from view.

"Masrur, take her back to the castle and make sure she's taken care of. We have things handled here." This had been Hinahoho's voice, the large man standing tall with a look of disgust at the man who had clearly committed many horrible acts. Masrur had silently nodded as he quickly left the area, thanks to the enhanced speed of the fenalis he got back to the palace rather quick. Everything after that had been a rushed blur of maids and healers trying to take care of the poor woman, Masrur had sat in the common area as to not be in the way of the whirlwind.

Soon he was joined by the others who spoke of how the man had his ass kicked before Pisti had returned with some guards to arrest him, now they had to handle the topic of the broken girl. "We can't just send her on her way, she probably can't take care of herself." This was Yamraiha, surprisingly Sharrkan was agreeing with her. Then again most the generals had already weighed in that they wanted to let the young girl stay there, at least until she was stable and okay enough to survive alone.

Sinbad sat nodding his head, leaning back in his seat as he heard the others out. "Then it's settled, she's gonna stay here. She needs our help, and we will give it to her." Masrur only half listened to the group. He was more focused on the rushed footsteps of the medics and servants, though as they slowed, he both relaxed slightly and grew nervous. He was snapped out of this trance by Pisti waving her hand in front of his face, having likely been trying to get his attention. "What is it?..." His voice was a low mumble, his arms crossed over his chest as he looked at them.

Sharrkan had been the one to speak now, leaning forward intently. "What was that thing you did that calmed her down, you know with her hand?" Masrur gave a heavy sigh; he almost knew this subject would come up. "It was something I saw a lot as a slave, when I asked an older fenalis he said it was a quiet promise. That the female fenalis were our women, and we needed to protect them." He looked to his friends who held faces of awe and sadness, he understood of course, it seems like a sweet gesture, but the circumstances really make it sadder. "A lot of times when a male would make this vow, he'd take her beatings and punishments, if the owners would try to breed the girl the males would do anything they had to in order to have the right to breed with her. Because he made the promise to protect her, and if it must be done, he wants to be sure she will be ok."

Pisti had exploded into tears, this sweet gesture was buried in a dark and twisted origin. It only made her despise slavery more, the others held grim looks as the topic had always upset them. They hated to hear these horror stories of slavery, though for some it triggered anger. Generals like Hina and Sharrkan wanted to go hunting for slavers after hearing these things, it wasn't surprising really. Even though some wouldn't expect it from Sharrkan, he was a playboy sure, but he never forced anything on anyone, nor did he approve of it. He was a man of morals, even if he was a little goofy at times. Their attention had quickly turned to the line of servants lead by a medic that left the hallways which lead to the girl's room, the elderly gentleman giving them a smile. "She will live, but her injuries are severe, and she must not leave bed unless absolutely necessary. I've prepared some special powders; she'll be in quite a bit of pain once she wakes up. Just a little in her drinks should do the trick."

The tension in the air seemed to disappear at the good news, the generals giving him and the maids a thanks as they walked out. "We should take turns caring for her, she'll be here a while so we need to make sure she gets use to all of us and so she will hopefully see us as friends." This had been Hina's idea, Pisti immediately perked up and stood on the table. "We can do it by week shifts, that way we get to spend a decent amount of time together!" Everyone had agreed to the idea, some actually really excited to welcome the girl to a better environment.

"I'll take first... I did make the vow." Masrur had stood up trying not to be too quick for the sake of his pride, leaving the others to sort out who goes after who as he went to her room. The tall male had taken her to the nearest guest room when he came in, being located next to his own. When he came in the first thing he noticed was that she had been cleaned up, despite her scars she was quite cute. She only had a couple on her face, a thin vertical one went down over her left eye and a small horizontal one went over the bridge of her nose that just barely reached her cheek bones.

She was bandaged up and under a cover, so not much would be seen of her body type but from what he had seen earlier he could tell she had a rather nice one despite the starvation she seemed to have gone through. Had she not been taken from the dark continent she likely would have already been married with a family, and something about her simply made his heart ache. Perhaps it was seeing such a beautiful gemstone in such poor condition, or maybe his past had been pushing him to her as he was likely the only one to truly have any real idea of her suffering.

As he contemplated these feelings, he was left distracted when she began to stir and wake, she stared off a bit and was clearly dazed. The pain medicine the medic had given her before probably still active in her system, which was good as she wouldn't be in too much pain. He moved to sit in a chair by her bed, her magenta eyes soon began focusing on his form. Her eyes looked so sad and lonely, so without even thinking he took her hand. "Hey there, just take it easy, ok?" He wanted to make sure she stayed calm, so she didn't accidentally hurt herself in case she became overwhelmed, the shy girl simply nodded her (H/c) head as she seemed to take comfort in his physical contact despite it being such a simple gesture. His grip was gentle, his hands rough but warm and caring. "My name Masrur... What's your name?" She watched him for a moment, the medicine making her mind a little hazy as she thought to the thing that no one had ever asked her before.

"My name... Is (Y/n)..."

#candy cult vault #Magi #masrur #x reader #fem reader #slave reader #its still odd to me he has 2 wives and 4 children #still can't believe he and Mikoto have the same voice actor #fluff #masrur x reader #masrur x fem reader

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kyuuppi · 1 year

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⚠️tw: yandere; violence; abuse

My mental health inversely correlates with how into yanderes I am and lemme say —

Scaramouche is the top tier yandere. Undefeated. Reigning champ. When he feels his territory (you) is threatened, whether by your own actions or someone else's he gets angry, he lashes out, he yells — all while hot tears blur his vision cause he's not so secretly terrified at the thought of losing you, of experiencing another betrayal. The words coming from his lips are absolute venom — disgusting and vile threats of bodily harm which he spares no detail — but you find it hard to maintain any semblance of self-preservation when you see the fat drops rolling down his cheeks and hear his sharp voice crack on every other word. He's volatile, mere moments from making good of his promise to immobilize you so you can't run off with that filthy little Snezhnayan vermin again but all you do is smile. The inappropriateness of it catching him off-guard enough to pause mid sentence before you're pulling him into your chest, patting his back and soothing him with hushed apologies as if he were a child who just scrapped his knee and not a Fatui harbinger capable of ending your life with the snap of his fingers.

"If I ever catch that pest near you again I'll seriously break every bone in body," the man mumbles petulantly, wet cheek pressed tightly to your breast.

You merely hum in absent acknowledgement, fingers gently carding through his violet locks.

#this is prob garbage idk #i wish i was more creative #i just want to be loved obsessively by a hot person is that too much to ask???#yandere x reader #Scaramouche x reader #balladeer x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #drabble

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moved-accounts-btw · 8 months

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TW: Body horror/ Body gore/ Insect. [The Image below will contain dislocating of parts. The Text contain concept of Bug horror]

Changed my concept of the Amulet, instead of her being a reality bender. She's a parasitical being that claims and reusing bodies. The detail behind the new rewrite.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The inspiration of the infection came from the locust infestation and Yellow fever, and one of my ocs. The infection initiates upon contact with the amulet, whether through physical touch or by opening the compass, which pierces the person's finger akin to a mosquito bite. A distinctive copper-hued mark resembling a compass rose manifests in the center of the hand, accompanied by an excruciating, unending itch and intense searing pain. This mark progressively expands, leaving sporadic spots on the limbs until it encroaches upon the torso. Remarkably, this phase is completed within a mere two weeks before transitioning to the next stage. Over the course of the following two days, victims begin to experience severe muscle and chest pain, coupled with a high fever. Patches of copper spots emerge on their torso. Some afflicted individuals even claim to sense something moving along their ribcage or shifting within their stomachs. By the third day, victims are often discovered in a catatonic state, immobile yet painfully aware of their surroundings Tw: Body horror/Gore/Bugs After a week or more, the victim's face contorts into a grotesque smile as black tar oozes from their vacant eye sockets. Their teeth become stained with darkness, and their jaw hangs slack to reveal a trapdoor spider nestled inside, feasting on the host's tongue. The chest cavity is brutally torn open, unveiling a grotesque colony of locusts, fleas, ticks, mosquitoes, and ants. They'll consume the host's internal organs with astonishing speed, while simultaneously replacing them with crude replicas made of chitin, tissue, and various materials. These makeshift organs bear little resemblance to functional human organs and primarily serve to sustain the insects and facilitate their continued infestation. After two day, It'll pushes itself upright, scowling and uttering a barrage of curses as it attempts to navigate its surroundings. Frustration mounts as it struggles to regain control over its bodily functions, ultimately giving in and succumbing to a deep slumber for three days. This allows further alterations in the body. Gradually, insect-like features begin to manifest on the body. These include chitinous growths that replace the skin, essentially forming an exoskeleton that covers the torso. Antenna-like appendages protrude from the head, their appearance varying with the season. Additional limbs sprout, and delicate feelers emerge around the mouth area. Multifaceted eyes develop, granting the individual the ability to perceive their surroundings even without the use of their primary eyes. During warmer seasons, they take on an appearance reminiscent of a locust or spider, while in winter, they resemble a moth. after the sleeping period is over, they can function on a day-to-day basis much like a regular human. However, their leg strength remains weak, necessitating the use of a cane for support.

#scp foundation #scp au #scp fandom #tw body horror #tw insects #tw bug horror #tw gore #J. William Wolcott #amulet variants #scp 963 #bright rewrite

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silvrash-797 · 2 months

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@webhead3345 you didn't ask for this one, but it's the offshoot I was talking about. Buckle up, everyone, this is the whumpiest thing I think I'll ever write...

tw for: torture (branding, electrocution, knives, impalement, whipping, waterboarding), attempted human sacrifice (putting the whole fic below the cut because we drop right into the pain - stay safe, everyone!)

Roll for stealth... (pt 3)

Day 1+5+12+25: helpless/rope burns/semi-conscious/waterboarding

Part 1 | Part 2

Read on ao3

Far away from Gerudo town, the captive hero stands immobilized, howling in agony as red-hot pokers burn his skin. He jerks against the ropes binding him fast, uncaring of the blood dripping down his arms. The pokers are removed and he sobs until relieved breaths are stolen by shock arrows driven slowly through his flesh. Link shrieks and seizes, the pair of arrows creating a current that tears through his body like wildfire.

The arrows' charge finally dissipates, and Link slumps in his bonds, panting heavily, trembling with aftershocks. He tries to flinch away from the bared blades that approach him next, but he cannot escape the wrath of dozens of sickles and carvers, each vying to take a bite from his skin.

Link strangles a scream behind his teeth as the discharged shock arrows are yanked from his body; blood fills his mouth as he bites his tongue. Gloved hands grasp his face, viciously dragging his gaze up to meet the unflinching, uncaring, all-seeing eye of the Yiga's mask.

“Have you had enough, Hero?” the mask demands. Link coughs, blood dripping down his face. “Then sleep well – the Blood Moon rises tonight, and you will be sacrificed to the Demon King!”

The Yiga laugh as they leave Link alone. Helpless against the pain and sweeping exhaustion, Link surrenders to unconsciousness with a tremulous sigh.

-----

They come for Link as the twilight turns. He is dragged to the arena where he fought Kogha, the land bathed in a bloody sunset that precedes an even bloodier moon.

A large stone table with leather restraints at each corner and a tall post covered in short, wicked spikes have been set up before the pit. The Yiga drag him to the post, lifting him bodily into the air as a blademaster hooks bound hands high above his head.

They drop him unceremoniously and Link screams as the spikes tear through his chest and his arms nearly dislocate. He tries not to thrash in pain as they leave him hanging there, waiting for the rest of the clan to arrive. It hurts to breathe.

A blademaster’s voice brings Link back to awareness. "People of the Yiga, chosen agents of the Demon King!” they shout, and a cheer rises from the assembled clansmen. “We gather tonight to avenge our fallen leader, and in so doing sacrifice the so-called ‘Hero of Hyrule’ to the Demon King!”

Roars of assent fill the arena; Link wishes he could close his ears to the deafening din. "May the hero's torment bring the Blood Moon and the rise of our Lord Ganon!!” the blademaster cries as a low whistle carves the air.

Link has no time to place the sound before a burning streak of agony lashes across his back, driving his body further onto the spikes. Link cries in pain and confusion, the arena filled with the jeers of the Yiga and the whistling pop of the whip as it coats his back in sheets of agony.

Finally, the lashes and jeers cease, the only sound now Link's ragged sobs. He is semi-conscious at best, and as he floats the line between awareness and oblivion he thinks of his friends: Wolfie, beloved companion and guide; the Champions of past and present, friends and aids along his journey; Zelda, whom he only barely remembers but feels the need to protect eternally. He draws comfort from thinking about them, and his sobs fade as the shadows lengthen.

Movement behind Link jolts him back to awareness, but he is helpless to stop the blademaster from pulling his abused body from the spiked pole. He shudders and gags as the spikes exit his flesh, tears of pained relief joining the blood dripping from his wounds.

The blademaster drags him across the arena to the stone table, then drags his battered body into place. Link screams as the torn flesh of his back meets rough stone and gritty sand. He thrashes as much as he can before his limbs are seized and pulled tight to the corners of the table, fastened roughly into the leather restraints. More ropes are pulled tight across his chest and legs, so tight he can barely breathe without them cutting further into his bare skin.

Link swallows and stills, panting as Yiga gather around him, faces hidden behind their masks. Sick glee emanates from each as they reach forth and again drag the tips of their blades across his flesh. One or two brandish handfuls of fire arrows, which are distributed and pressed in tandem all along his body, stoking a wildfire Link cannot hope to escape.

Link screeches and writhes as much as he is able; the Yiga laugh and mock his pain.

Branded, beaten, bruised, and bloody, Link lays limply in his bonds as the last of the Yiga filter away. He trembles as he stares up at the night sky – he knows there are still several hours until the Blood Moon reaches its peak. Terror washes over him at the thought of what else the Yiga might have in store for him.

He doesn’t have long to wait or wonder.

Link stares tiredly as a blademaster approaches the table, followed by several footsoldiers. Water sloshes in the buckets they carry.

“Through fire and blood your spirit has been weakened,” the blademaster intones, just loud enough for the waiting Yiga to hear. “Now this water shall quench your courage, to prepare your soul to serve the Demon King.”

The blademaster produces a thick cloth and lays it across Link's face, blocking out all light and most sounds. Link's heart hammers in his chest as he tries to suck in a complete breath.

Water suddenly saturates the cloth, filling his mouth and nose. Link chokes and gags against the intrusion, coughing and straining against his bonds. He cannot breathe, he cannot move; he is going to die.

The water stops and the cloth is removed. Link retches and groans, expelling water from and pulling shallow breaths of stale air into straining lungs.

Link can sense the Yiga standing over him as he struggles, but they do not move, waiting with all patience as his breathing settles.

The moment he takes a rasping breath without coughing, the cloth is replaced and water again floods his senses. Link twitches, panics, tries to hold his breath or turn away from the stream, but he cannot stop it. His skin splits around the leather restraints at his arms and legs as he thrashes, desperate for air, for freedom.

The cloth is removed and Link chokes on the air trickling into his lungs. He coughs and hacks and pleads for mercy, but the Yiga only replace the cloth before he gets his breath back.

Link drowns and struggles, he’s back in the shrine of resurrection, maybe all this has been a horrible dream. He’s ready to give up when a voice bursts through the muffling cloth.

“CUB!!” it yells, fear and desperation and fierce loyalty wrapped up in the single word. The water stops, the cloth is removed, and Link stares up at an unfamiliar Hylian with tattoos on his forehead and under his eyes. Worry-bright eyes burn into his own, and Link can only register the slightest feeling of familiarity before oblivion sweeps him into its warm embrace.

#SilvrAsh writes #febuwhump #day 1 #day 5 #day 12 #day 25 #botw link #pre-LU #i did NOT intend to write this #it started writing itself halfway through part 2 and demanded to be completed #sure made writing the last half of part 2 easier though...#pov swap shift of an earlier febuwhump fic #tw torture #tw branding #tw electrocution #tw knives #tw waterboarding #tw restraints

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sugoi-writes · 4 years

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Question! How in your opinion would fatgum, todoroki, deku and dabi react to their hero s/o getting almost mortally wounded in a fight with an enemy? (they live but they were lucky as hell ) and how do they take care of s/o afterwards?

*cracks knuckles* This is a long one, so buckle up!

TW: violence, bodily harm/body horror, hospitalization.

Scenario: You are in a burning, severely damaged building, helping with evacuation and rescue during a villain attack. As the building starts to collapse, you shove the remaining survivors out, but you fall with the building.

You have several steel pipes stabbing through you (stomach, right arm and leg), leaving you severely bleeding. To make matters worse, you’ve also earned some 2nd degree burns. You make it to the hospital... but how will your s/o react???

Fatgum

More than likely on patrol in another district, Fatgum hears a distress call from Sun Eater, who was making rounds with you.

He and R.R rush over to the scene, and all they see are collapsed buildings, fires, and people being rushed off in stretchers.

There are several heroes helping to fight off a BBEG who has a fire breath weapon/quirk, and super strength. He has countless goonies who are really giving the Pros some trouble.

Fatgum is acting as support, and notices that you were there as well, helping with rescue/evacuation. But Fatgum knows something is off.

As he intervenes, catching someone with his FatTaxi to slow their fall/momentum, he hears you scream,” GO, NOW!!!”

When the building collapses, it takes everything for Fatgum not to rush to the falling building and rubble.

He unfortunately gets caught up in a fight, and ends up having to go on the offensive to help the other Pros.

When all is said and done, Fatgum is in his slim form, completely exhausted. Kirishima is doing his best to help him, supporting his weight. When he sees you before FG, he tries to steer him away. FG, of course, refuses.

With him needing medical attention as well, he somehow manages to get in the same ambulance as you, and the two of you are carted to the hospital as Kirishima stays to help with cleanup.

When you are rushed into the ER for surgery, Fatgum wants nothing more than to be there... but he’s separated, and treated for his own injuries.

When he’s patched up, he spends HOURS outside of the operation wing, wanting to hear something, ANYTHING. He’s on the edge of his seat when Tamaki and Kirishima come to see him. They brought Fatgum some things to munch on, as they know by now that stress eating was one of the only ways to get him back to his jolly state.

It also helped take some edge off of the situation, as Fatgum looked visibly shaken. All he can hear was the sound of your desperate scream before the building started to crumble, constantly replaying in his mind.

When the group of 3 heroes are informed of your stabilized status, they’re all immediately relieved, but the doctor adds that you’d be knocked out until next morning, due to the medication(s) you were on.

When Fatgum is allowed to enter your room, he almost immediately rushes to your side, kissing your hand and gripping it tightly as he watches you breathe, labored and slow. Kirishima and Tamaki can only hover around and try to comfort him, knowing that he’s going to be stubborn, unable to leave your side until you wake up.

Fatgum will just kiss your bloodied, patched up knuckles, smiling shakily as he watches you recover,” ...hopefully you won’t have to see me like this when you wake up...” he says softly. He smiles sadly,” Even if you think it looks pretty hot... Hahaha... haaa...” His head hangs a little lower, his voice softening as he looks back up to your calm, emotionless face,” I could really hound you about not being more careful... but I’m not one to talk. Wake up soon, so I can bring you some takeout and see your smile again...”

When you do wake up, Kirishima is the one to shake Fatgum awake. Being in his slim state still, you’re the first to tense up. However, you start to cough, the tension in your chest making your ribs and stomach hurt. Fatgum pushes up back down, so you can lay back down.

“Don’t get up... I...I know I look rough. But I’m here for you, Gummy Bear. And I’m just glad that you’re okay.”

Todoroki

Todoroki, in the middle of training, gets a call from his sister. She sounds panicked, and urges Todo not to turn on the TV for any reason for the next few hours. Todoroki seems confused, and disregards his sister’s plea.

When he turns on the TV... he sees what’s happening. The burning buildings... the smug grin on the villain’s face... and countless bodies in the streets. The camera pans to several people being carted away on stretchers, and low and behold... you were one of them. You were unconscious, a mask over your face to supply you with fresh oxygen as the air continued to fill with smoke and ash.

Todoroki sprung from his spot, throwing his shoes and coat on almost violently. He knows his father would be on sight, as the Number One Hero, meaning that his agents were too. He makes several desperate calls to try and figure out where you were being taken. After the third attempt, someone finally caves and tells him. Todoroki knew that you were being rushed to the ER, and your surgery would be underway very shortly.

Todoroki is there within 15 minutes, and he immediately runs into his siblings, who were trying to intervene. They knew he would be there, and that he would be distraught.

As his sister tries to calm him, Todo’s breath is chilled the instant he exhales, and his hands are trembling, both of them subtly reflecting their quirks. He was a mess and a mixing pot of emotions. Who was responsible for this mess? Why were you on the scene, in a burning building, all alone? Why didn’t you have back up from the inside???

So many thoughts swarmed around in his head as he silently fumed and despaired, scared that the unthinkable could happen to you. But his siblings tried to keep him calm, talking with him and urging him to try and focus on positive thoughts.

When the doctor strolled out, bearing the mildly good news, Todoroki nearly broke, his hands coming up to his face and he shuddered, not wanting to show that he was in tears. He was relieved. He was furious. He was so scared for you.

The Todorokis were cautious as they walked towards your room. You were still unconscious, with a series of instruments and IVs hooked up to you to keep you stable.

Todoroki could only hesitantly cup your cheeks, watching as your breath fogged up the mask over your face. He sighed shakily, kissing the top of your forehead, careful to not accidentally move you.

“...I’m so sorry that I wasn’t there to help you...” he would rasp quietly, while his siblings stepped back,” ...I promise... never to leave your side again. No matter what happens, whatever agency you chose or where you’re assigned... I’ll be there to support you. I’ll never let this happen to you--to either of us--again...”

When you do wake up, Todoroki has both of his hands wrapped around one of yours, his head leaning on the headboard of your hospital bed. His siblings are long gone. When Todoroki slowly starts to wake up, he immediately feels a surge of relief, and kisses the top of your head again, tears flowing freely. This was the Todoroki you knew. The stoic exterior has broken, almost completely, as you lay there, unable to reach up and hug him back. You try to rasp something out, but your voice is shattered from your final screams of agony.

Todoroki calms himself, pulling away briefly as he gives you a very tired, relieved smile,” ..I-It’s going to be alright...I..I’m here now, baby...”

Izuku

Full Cowlings, Detroit and Delaware Smashes... Izuku is going ham on the scene of the incident, acting as a major player on the offensive team. He knows that you are the careful type, and typically trusts your judgements. After all, you were smart and your quirk was unique. The chances of you being in trouble were slim, as long as you had back up.

But as a villain grabbed him by his collar, and violently flung him against a building, he felt the ground beginning to shake. His eyes widened in horror as he narrowly recovered, a villain smashing violently into the compromised building.

He heard you scream, and that was it for him. He crouched down, using as much of OFA as he could, before springing towards your voice. However, this was the perfect window, and another villain snatched him up midair, slamming him back down to the ground below. By the time he covered, the building was already in ruins. Fury surged through him, as he mustered all he could into an obliterating series of kicks and punches, knocking several villains out of his way as he nearly pole vaulted towards you.

Izuku started moving rubble, able to identify where you fell by your wavering voice and hiccups of pain. Uraraka was quick to stop him, as his reckless actions could actually endanger you.

Uraraka lifted the parts of the building that were crushing you, and both she and Deku turned white as snow.

There you were, crumbled and trembling, your voice coming in heavy, wavering pants.

“Pl...Please... don’t... don’t look, Izuku...” you pleaded, immobilized. But Deku was already lunging towards you, barking over his shoulder for help. You started blacking out by this point. All you remember were visions of heroes prying you out safely. Nurses and field staff were carrying you. Lastly, you saw flashes of desperate, green eyes, looking to you in desperation.

“Please, Y/N! Don’t give up! Keep fighting to stay awake!”

However, despite your struggle to keep conscious, you lost the battle, and your vision faded to black. You couldn’t remember how long you slept. But occasionally, you would hear a voice or two, talking to or of you. Maybe it was the doctors... probably All Might, Izuku... all of these voices swirled in your mind as you rested, unable to rouse yourself. You were completely and utterly exhausted.

When you did wake up, All Might stood next to you, clutching his chest in relief. You tried to speak up, but he shushes you quickly, pointing to Izuku.

He was in the hospital bed next to you, almost as messed up as you were. Your heart dropped into your stomach, but All Might ruffled your hair, sighing.

“I understand... your relationship with Young Midoriya. He cares a great deal about you. But, at least for his sake... you need to be careful...” he would comment, shortly after asking you how you were feeling, and what you remember.

“Midoriya, the poor boy... he left straight for the front lines again when another building started to fall. I don’t know how he did it, but he managed to hold up almost half of the building... he saved so many people, but it ended up almost crushing him in the process. And even then... he still climbed up, and screamed that he would protect everyone.”

All Might sat on the edge of your bed,” ...he specifically said that he would protect you, too...”

Your eyes swelled with tears, as you listened to Izuku’s mentor. You were more than familiar with Izuku pushing himself and his body to its absolute limit, but supporting an entire building... that had to take insane mental and physical strength.

“The good news is: he will recover. Slowly, VERY slowly... but surely. The both of you are lucky to be alive. The bad news... is that you will both need pretty intensive care for about a month. But... until then, I was at least able to place him in the same room as you.”

All Might’s cheeks flashed with a small blush, as he sighed and scratched the back of his head,” Kids these days...” he grumbles tiredly, standing up slowly

“Try and get some rest. I’m sure you’ll need it once he wakes up.”

You nod, thanking All Might for the considerate update. You reach out, and are surprised to see that your hand could just barely reach the edge of his bed. You smile sadly, tears running down your cheeks,” ...you idiot... you had to go feral again, didn’t you?”

Dabi

He knew the ins and outs of this operation, as he was familiar with these set of villains initiating the attack. Shigaraki was more than happy to make his own move, using the other attack as a distraction.

Dabi trusted that you would not be in the district, thinking that you would be wrapped up in a boring patrol or worse... paperwork. But boy, was he wrong.

Word got to him quickly, as Toga went undercover, against Dabi’s wishes. Feigning as an innocent bystander, she saw you falling, and ultimately had thought you died. She warned Dabi not to come, and that this was what he gets for getting involved with a Pro Hero.

Dabi did not like that. And Dabi would see to it that you would be safe from now on.

Long after your surgery, in the middle of the night: that was when he appeared.

Many of the staff were long gone, and it had dwindled down to the few souls on the graveyard shift. Many were so tired from the amount of patients they had, hurriedly making their rounds so they could lounge/decompress from the horrors they saw today.

Sneaking through the roof’s entrance, Toga was more than able to snag a new disguise, blood and all. As she strolled through, dressed as one of the nurses. Meanwhile, Dabi was dressed in all black, slinking a few feet behind her with a turtleneck, coat, and shades on.

He would duck into open rooms and corridors should anyone pass, while Toga was more than capable of keeping up her ruse.

When they got to the Post-OP ward, it took only a few tries to find you.

And there you were... laying so weakly, defenselessly on your hospital bed, countless machines hooked onto you. Toga would later regret not taking any of your blood for future use.

Toga locked the door behind them as Dabi closed in on you, reaching out to you,”...Little mouse... it’s time to wake up.”

Your eyelids flutter as a new voice invades your senses, before a cool hand presses to your forehead. You feel Dabi’s hand brush your hair away from your face, before you slam your eyes open.

You practically seize at the sight of him before you, unable to move. You trembled softly, a cautious smile stretching across your lips,” D....Dabi... you can’t... h-how... did you--”

Dabi is swift to cut you off, leaning down to where his lips could almost brush against your oxygen mask.

“That’s something we can discuss later... I have a bone to pick with you, little mouse...” You winced as Dabi’s hand slams against the bed, nearly colliding with you head as you stare back up at Dabi anxiously.

“Do you know... why I’m here?” Dabi asks you calmly, causing you to flush ever so slightly. “I-Is it... because I got hurt...?”

Dabi sighs exasperatedly, looking back to you,” If it were a minor injury, I wouldn’t have bothered... but that little stunt you pulled today almost had you killed,” Dabi practically growls, leaving your heart hammering in your chest. You glance away, unable to deny this.

“I-I know... I... wasn’t thinking clearly. I promise, next time, I won’t--”

“Next time?” Dabi mocks, his brows furrowing. He smirks, a low chuckle erupting in his chest,” Little mouse, there will be no ‘next time’...”

You blink with confusion as Dabi leans closer, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear,” ...as soon as you’re recovered... as soon as you get out of this god forsaken place... you’re coming with me. And you will never. Ever. Leave my side again.”

You try to protest as you feel his hot breath against your ear, trembling. It would be even more dangerous to stay with him. A Pro Hero and a villain being in a relationship secretly is one thing... but between all of the times that you or him covered for one another, leaked confidential information, or... been in the same bed... you would both be done for if word got out.

“...Toga-kun here... is willing to bust you out with me... You will not be forced to join The League. But we will house you, while you go on a permanent Hero’s Hiatus. You will take the time you need to recover. And you will NOT. Leave the base... unless I say so... because I can’t trust you to act with your best judgement safely.” Dabi laughs, but his laughter quickly died to a weak chuckle,” ...don’t you get it...? I nearly lost you again today.”

Dabi’s voice wavers momentarily, before his eyes hardened again. You shrink under his gaze, as his eyes burrow into yours,” ...and I’m not going to risk losing you again. Even if I have to take matters into my own hands... and force you to be an obedient, careful little pet...”

You shudder at his words, wincing in pain shortly after. Dabi’s expression softens for a moment, as he removes the mask covering your face momentarily.

He leans down, placing a chaste kiss to your lips, before slowly pulling away. You swore that Dabi’s eyes were glassy. But before you could call him out on this, Dabi let go of your face mask. It reconnects with your face suddenly, stinging as it violently settles back in place.

Dabi smiles, the snap of the elastic amusing him. You looked disgruntled, and he wouldn’t mind seeing you that way more.

“...I’ll be back for you soon, babe... so make sure... that you take extra care while I’m gone.” Dabi rumbles lowly, pinching your cheek before standing upright. Toga gives him a nod, telling him that the coast is clear. And just like that, Dabi and Toga slip out without a trace, leaving your mind spinning and your chest heaving.

(Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed! <3)

#todoroki shoto x reader #midoriya izuku x reader #fatgum x reader #dabi x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha imagines #mha imagines #bnha scenarios #mha scenarios #angst #tw: violence #tw: body horror #tw: gore #tw: hospitalization #tw: yandere

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passcridae · 3 years

Text

Friday 16th April, 2021; late evening Clubs territory; the Armory Referencing; No specific tws, but it gets violent and gross.

Everything inside Sparrow’s body -- every muscle, every sinew, every tendon -- was pulled tight as a bowstring as he slunk with whisper-quiet steps through the darker, quieter abandoned halls of the Armory.

The assassin was what absolutely no one would refer to as a team player, even less so when it came to the front lines, regardless of on the battlefield or well contained within the tight confines of the Club faction’s streets. He wasn’t a part of any resistance group or vanguard, not when the leaders knew how best he operated -- and that was alone. Sparrow had arrived alone and would likely leave alone, given free reign to stalk the maze-like halls and pick off anyone and everyone he could, artfully unlocking doors to leave them wide open in his wake.

So too in his wake did he leave warm blood pooled in as many halls as he could, damp and tacky on the tattooed fingers Sparrow had loosely but skillfully wrapped around the handle of his blade. It was a long, slender thing, his dagger, designed to slip effortlessly between panels of armor and glance off of bone to where the razor-sharp edge could do the most damage. He felt more exposed without shifting, but the corners were too claustrophobic and the stone too well fit even for the smallest of his animals. A last resort, if he had to.

Sparrow could hear an indistinct cacophony echoing through the cold halls, but it was too far away for him to recognize the voices or pick out any meaning, so he largely ignored it other than to put his back to the majority of the chaos. Stalking steps rounded another corner as he kept to the shadows, and it didn’t take long for him to spot his next target: a tall, muscular woman, hand on a mace at her hip as she faced where the chaos was coming from, oblivious to the danger behind her. Sparrow smiled, fanged even in the absence of his fangs.

Two swift, bounding steps brought him close enough to his quarry to leap, knees connecting with the small of the woman’s back and one arm wrapping around her shoulders to hold himself in place, plunging his blade diagonally into the space between her neck and shoulder.

Something was wrong.

The dagger pierced, but not deep enough -- the woman bellowed in pain and Sparrow’s breath caught in his throat. A Strongarm. Flesh too stubborn to rend, muscles halting Sparrow’s blade far too far from her heart. His surprise prevented him from leaping away fast enough, and not before the meat of her hand closed around his forearm, dragging the young Shifter over her shoulder like a ragdoll.

“What’s this?” she sneered, holding him aloft with a bruising grip, Sparrow’s toes scrabbling for purchase on the stone as his nails bit and scratched ineffectually at the hand locked around his arm. The guard withdrew the blade from her shoulder as if it were nothing but an inconvenience, an annoyance, and threw it aside without a second thought. She gave him a rough shake and something like a growl bubbled up from Sparrow’s throat, low and feral. The Strongarm simply laughed, a harsh, caustic sound that echoed mockingly through the hall. “You’re too far from your friends, boy. No one will hear you if I--”

Her grip tightened with brutal effortlessness, and the bones in Sparrow’s arm cracked easily under the pressure. He cried out in surprise, tears pricking hotly at the corners of his eyes as pain shot up his arm, immobilizing him. He didn’t dare move and make the injury worse, but at this point it didn’t matter: the guard’s free hand, rough-edged gauntlet slick with her own blood, wrapped around Sparrow’s throat with a clear and threatening purpose. “I’m going to kill you, little rat. And it’s not going to be quick.”

Sparrow didn’t have the breath to respond or time to react before the guard slammed him into the wall, the back of his head hitting with a sickening crack and any air left in his lungs forced out with the savagery of it. Almost immediately his vision started to blur and tunnel, black crawling at the edge of his sight as his empty lungs ached. Held at least half a foot from the floor, Sparrow kicked half-heartedly but couldn’t find purchase, any blow he aimed at the Strongarm a nuisance at best. She laughed at his struggle, and the sound ricocheted cruelly through his head. The places where the steel of her gauntlet bit into his skin started to burn, a persistent ache that seeped into his skin with a dour purpose: poison.

He was going to die here.

The mere thought sent a shock of fear and adrenaline through his body, but neither were going to help him, no surge of strength even close to enough to free him from the guard’s iron grip around his neck. Unable to shift, unable even to speak or cry out if anyone would hear him to begin with, Sparrow squeezed his eyes shut and fought unconsciousness as the world spun around him.

Suddenly, the grip around his neck tightened, then went slack. There was a sick thud as something hit the floor, and when Sparrow forced his eyes open again, the Strongarm’s head was… gone.

Their bodies crumpled to the stone floor in tandem, and Sparrow drew in harsh, ragged breaths as he scrambled away from the felled woman’s body in sheer, blind terror. He gulped air until his throat and lungs burned, fit to burst, but didn’t even have the time to be grateful before a shock of nausea gripped him. Doubled over on his knees, Sparrow had neither the wherewithal nor the energy to fight as he emptied his stomach onto the cold stone floor in a splash of vomit and stinging bile. The only saving grace was he never ate much to begin with, but the painful dry heaves that followed hardly felt like a blessing.

“Gods,” a man’s voice blurted out, disgusted, and only then did Sparrow realize he wasn’t alone -- as if the Strongarm could’ve decapitated herself. Someone was crouching next to him, and as he caught sight of the Armory armor and insignia, fear shot through him and he automatically tried to jerk away from the hand reaching for his shoulder. “Hey, hey-- relax, relax, I’m on your side.”

Sparrow froze for a moment and tried to blink the tears and fuzziness from his eyes, an unfamiliar face swimming in his vision. An armory guard, loyal to the resistance? Sparrow stared at him, slack-jawed and baffled, hardly able to believe his luck.

Maybe Miss Death was still interested enough in him after all.

What followed was a non-linear mess of memories and Sparrow fighting against the pain and unconsciousness that threatened to overtake him. The guard that’d saved him scooped him up like a broken doll -- not without the threat of additional bodily harm if Sparrow decided to throw up on him -- and carried him through the winding halls of the Armory until Sparrow couldn’t tell which way was up or if they were closer to the outside or to death. Eventually they climbed flights of stairs, and eventually the cool, evening spring air washed over Sparrow’s sweat-streaked face as they made it to the roof.

The poison was burning through his veins like hellfire at this point, and he couldn’t discern any of the sounds or shouting as his blood rushed desperately in his ears. Only one voice cut through the rest: Fallon’s definitive, commanding bark, the likes of which immediately sent a wave of relief through Sparrow big enough to prick tears at the corners of his eyes. It didn’t matter if she wasn’t the Emitter that appeared beside him, skilled hands hovering at the festering, blackened wounds at his throat to start drawing the poison from his veins; as long as he knew Fallon was there, Sparrow knew he would be safe. The feeling was foreign and comforting all at once, the level of trust he realized he had in his leader. He didn’t have the energy or the coherent thought to process it, not when all he could focus on was the stinging fire of the poison leaving his bloodstream.

Eventually the nausea subsided even if the spinning in his head remained, disorienting and frustrating. It was just clear enough, however, to recognize that a heavy hush had settled, dampening the roar of chaos into an anticipatory holding of breath.

“Wha’s happenin’?” Sparrow finally managed to croak, his tongue a dry, sour weight in his mouth.

The Emitter hovering over him glanced towards the low wall surrounding the Armory roof, then back to her charge with a grim expression.

“Mallick’s challenged the Ace.”

#solo: broken wings #or: sparrow and the terrible horrible no good very bad day #grey: if you wanna really punish sparrow--#me: YEAH I DO #i'm sorry birb boy ilu but u can't go and fight a strongarm #and yes that is geon saving his narrow ass #borrowed with mady's blessing #ty mady and geon (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*✲ﾟ*｡⋆#sparrow: i like to be shoved against walls but Not Like This

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