#tw: graphic depictions of violence | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

aftgficrec · 10 months

Note

Do you have anything for settings outside of cannon?? Like au's or completely different universes

(Preferably neil centered but not exactly a necessity)

Ahhh there are many amazing AUs in our fandom, and of course a high percentage star Neil Josten. Generally, canon themes are still woven throughout the stories. Also check out AUs on our tags page where you can explore by theme. -A

a small sampling of AU themes:

single parent aus here

more band aus here

sitcom/romcom vibes here

long no exy aus here

new Hogwarts aus here

staff recs Mermay here

florist/tattoo artist andreil here

andreil enemies to lovers here

some Neil-centric AUs:

famous Neil (no exy) here

Neil as barista/waiter/bartender here

Neil with wings and lots of magic here

Oblivious ace-disaster Neil here

quirky Neil like ‘WUTBF’/‘Quicksand’ here

fics like ‘A Different Matter’ here

‘Neil’s Guide to Stalking Your Neighbor’ here

‘Dear Advice Guy’ here (complete)

‘The bittersweet between my teeth’ here

‘Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger’ here

‘Point Nemo’ here

‘still’ here

‘12 Ways to Woo a Minyard’ and ‘Deadly Affections’ here

Perennial by notyouranswer [Rated T, 11373 Words, Complete, 2023]

Neil downloaded a dating app (at Matt's insistence) to make some friends, but accidentally rejected a stranger right in front of him. Mild chaos ensues leading to conversations over coffee and a walk in the park.

tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: bullying

Into The Deep by Fortheloveofexy [Rated E, 21435 Words, Incomplete, Updated June 2023]

Neil Josten stares at the large building in front of him, his mouth twisted into a small frown. Yesterday, Browning had handed him a manila folder containing his new name, his new life. Included in that file had been a note, the same slightly crumpled note he’s holding in his hand now, with the name of his new employer. Foxhole Aquarium. Ask for David Wymack.

tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced self harm, tw: implied/referenced torture, tw: implied/referenced abuse, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: animal abuse, tw: implied/referenced character death, tw: blood, tw: panic attacks

NB: fic art of merAndrew by @fortheloveofexy

Only Fools Fall. by Random2002 [Rated T, 19789 Words, Incomplete, Updated Feb 2023]

Neil tests how faithful his clients partners are. Roland is a client; he's worried about his boyfriend. It isn't long until Neil notices some serious rifts in the relationship he is meant to test.

tw: child abuse

White Hands by doodlingstuff [Rated T, 23308 Words, Complete, May 2023]

Neil's life isn't exactly a life except for Stuart, trying to cheer him up, and his paintings, whenever he's inspired. Andrew's life isn't exactly a life except for his family and his volunteering work, keeping him afloat as the time goes by. When Andrew stumbles into Neil's life unwillingly, both will learn one day at a time that they still have reasons to fight and dreams to fulfill. --- Another take on Artist!Neil and Bartender!Andrew full of soft and fluff.

tw: implied/referenced csa, tw: heavily referenced abuse, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: implied/referenced self harm

If Neil, Then Fox by AlrightDarlin (WhoopsOK) [Rated T, 12838 Words, Complete, 2023, Locked]

Neil Josten’s machine warns him Aaron Minyard needs his help, but Neil isn’t prepared for the way Andrew Minyard is about to turn his life upside down.

tw: murder, tw: canonical character death, tw: implied character death, tw: drug use, tw: violence

Professor Neil series by HalfpintPeach [Rated G/T, Collection with 2 complete works, updated Feb 2023]

Part 1: Necessary Losses [T, 9783 Words, Complete, 2023] Neil's grad students invite their Exy-obsessed professor out to one of the most anticipated matches of the Exy Season, the Dallas Palms vs the Denver Yellowjackets. Neil is excited to join to watch his husband and one of his best friends battle it out on the Exy court.

Part 2: Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day [G, 3640 Words, Complete, 2022] Neil has one of the worst days and Andrew is able to make it a little bit better. Welcome to my Professor Neil and Professional Exy Player Andrew world!

I'll be a Brand New Day by especiallythezefronposter [Rated T, 15519 Words, Complete, 2017]

Neil meets a man who looks a lot like his least favorite teammate, Aaron Minyard, and it ends up changing his life. (A Winter Soldier AU, because this fandom deserves a Winter Soldier AU)

tw: self harm, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: gun violence, tw: blood, tw: murder, tw: nightmares

Unlucky Lies by Winterlynne_Norvic [Not Rated, 26365 Words. Complete, 2019]

Neil hates being a demon. Andrew hates Neil. Their lives are hell, but maybe with each other it doesn't have to be.

tw: graphic depictions of violence, tw: temporary major character death, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: demonic possession, tw: bullying, tw: assault, tw: attempted rape, tw: blood, tw: murder, tw: car accident, tw: canonical character death, tw: eating disorders

Neighbours series by transjorts [Collection, Rated T, Complete, 2021]

Part 1: Cat Burglar [6393 Words, AFTG Exchange Spring 2021] Neil has settled into his quiet life in Palmetto with a job at Barnes and Noble and a friend called Matt. But someone was breaking into his apartment and stealing his stuffed animals. What kind of fuckery is this?

tw: implied/referenced child abuse

Part 2: Foxes and Fruitcake [12819 Words] Neil dives deep into Minyard-Hemmick family drama, plays exy and eats fruitcake.

tw: involuntary outing

You're different than the others by Kml19 [Rated M, 21024 Words, Complete, 2017]

Neil works for the Moriyamas from inside the prisons as a guard, he doesn't think much about his own life, he is just glad that he is alive. That is until he meets a new prisoner that may change how he sees things.

tw: graphic depictions of violence, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced murder, tw: assault

NB: inspired by @requiemofkings’ artwork of prison guard Neil and inmate Andrew

Allurement by sundowne [Rated E, 20323 Words, Incomplete, Updated May 2023]

"You think I would use my allurement on you?" "You're not?" - A vampire AU in which Neil needs a new goalie and Andrew needs someone to feed from, so they strike a deal.

tw: blood, tw: implied/referenced abuse, tw: implied/referenced torture

Remember! Proplifting is Shoplifting! by Mystrana [Rated T, 3697 Words, Complete, AFTG Summer Exchange 2022]

Neil works at the garden center. He hates his job. Andrew is an amateur gardener who enjoys tormenting garden center employees. Somehow, he makes Neil's job better.

If You Knew What I Know by interstellarflowers [Rated G, 12361 Words, Complete, 2021]

Neil runs a relationship advice column, and Andrew is a skeptic.

Whiskey Sour by maqicien [Not Rated, 6,870 Words, Complete, 2022]

In which Neil is a bartender and Andrew is the crime lord that owns the bar.

tw: graphic depictions of violence, tw: assault, tw: blood/gore, tw: murder

jellyroot and many other causes of catastrophy series by jeanmorexu (papencuts), papencuts [Rated M, Collection with 2 complete works, AFTG Reverse Big Bang 2019]

Part 1: (a comprehensive guide to princes and knights and how not to acquire jellyroot) [10959 Words] Neil is a young prince of Palmetta. When he was just a boy, he was saved by a mysterious kid from a thug. Neil isn't sure who he is, or why he did what he did. That is, until he sees him again and this time, he's going to get some answers.

tw: homophobia, tw: assault

Part 2: united under kingdom, and unto each other [2099 Words]

“Can you imagine what this would do the crown? Backwater boxing matches, associating with drunkards, and criminals… These bruises, Andrew, gods… People are going to think I beat you.” “No one is going to think that. It’s almost assumed that you like me to beat you.”

NB: knight and prince art prompt by @requiemofkings

CVS by anxietycorner [Rated G, 38689 Words, Incomplete, Updated May 2023]

Neil had always worked the night shift alone. A co-worker couldn't hurt, right?

tw: graphic depictions of violence, tw: abuse, tw: child abuse, tw: torture, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: ptsd, tw: flashbacks, tw: implied/referenced murder, tw: suicidal thoughts, tw: vomit, tw: alcohol, tw: bullying

Art

Dirtyhands Neil art by @prince-peachie

spiderman au art by @rainbowd00dles

tattoo artist!neil comic by @jordanshenessy here and here

the little siren au art by @allfortheslay25, wip 1, pre render

jellyfish Neil au comic by @emry-stars-art, also here

pirate Neil art by @heymrstargazer

winged Neil art by @mistykaru here, here, here, here and here

escaped single father Jean with baby Neil art by @estavs

123 notes · View notes

iamnotthere-idonotdie · 2 months

Text

dream of me

part four

…………………………………………………………………………………….

…………………………………………………………………………………….

synopsis: reader and bruce have moved in together and their relationship is going well. but a new gotham criminal kidnaps reader and they face sudden death, as well as a secret bruce has been keeping.

content: batman/bruce wayne x reader, cursing, no smut, violence, torture, death, blood, breaking/broken bones, kidnapping, brutality, guns, knives, vomit, graphic descriptions of violence and injuries

a/n: okay so this one took a dark turn, and i’m very surprised i was able to finish it so fast. i knew how i wanted this to play out but i wasn’t expecting it to get as graphic as it did so i do apologize for that honestly. i think what im learning is that as i write, i sort of envision it as a movie playing out in my head so sometimes it can feel more like a script than a story. also sorry if there are some wrong medical terminology and stuff in here, and sorry for any typos as well!

edit: also— i think i was kind of envisioning the joker here as seen in something like the killing joke (movie). honestly i just kind of read this joker with mark hamill’s voice altogether.

……………………………………………………………………………………

“good morning, sleep well, i hope?”

“good morning, alfred. yes i did, thank you.”

you pour yourself a cup of coffee in the kitchen as alfred makes breakfast. you grab a mug for bruce and pour his as well.

“bruce still out?”

“yes, he called and informed me that he’ll be back soon from his workout.” alfred says as he flips the omelette in the pan.

“these workouts have been getting longer and longer.”

“he does like to keep active.”

“right, he just seems to get up so early for them. the other day i woke up in the middle of the night and he was gone, it wasn’t even 4am yet.”

“he finds the 24-hour gym is less crowded in the early hours.”

alfred slides the omelette onto a plate and sets it on the small table for you.

“thank you alfred. i just worry he’s not getting enough sleep.”

“oh, i’ve been worrying about his sleep for years.”

“i sleep plenty.” bruce enters the kitchen. “morning alfred.”

“good morning, sir.”

bruce walks over to the table and kisses you.

“good morning.” you say as you hand him his coffee.

bruce sits and alfred sets a plate of breakfast in front of him too.

“thanks alfred.”

“i just hope you’re sleeping enough is all. it seems like lately it’s been less and less.” you take a sip of your coffee and look at bruce. you don’t want to be a nag, but you do worry.

he takes a sip too and looks back at you.

“i’m fine, really.”

you smile unconvincingly at him and continue eating.

the rest of breakfast is quiet, but you don’t mind the still silence. this morning routine has brought you comfort over the last few months since you moved in. alfred set up your own room when you first came, but you and bruce quickly realized you both prefer sleeping in the same bed. that is, when he’s actually sleeping in it.

you finish breakfast and bruce takes your plates and puts them in the sink, alfred already turning on the tap.

you and bruce go back upstairs and you start getting dressed for work. he doesn’t always go in, but even on days like today when his work is to be completed at home, he still drives you. he told you early on that you could work hybrid as well, that you two could work together at home on his off days. but you enjoy working at the desk. and with this new outreach project you’ve been working on, you prefer having the team in person to collaborate.

as you button your top, bruce comes up behind and wraps his arms around you, stopping you from finishing.

“bruce…” he cuts you off by kissing your neck. you leave your shirt half open as you turn around and put your arms around his neck. you kiss, letting yourself forget about work. he slides his hands down your back and pulls you in tighter. you won’t ever get enough of this.

your phone’s alarm sings to tell you it’s time to leave. bruce pulls it out of your pocket and silences it, tossing it on the bed with a smile.

“i really should go today.”

“i think you should stay.”

“i don’t know…”

“it’s not like you’ll get fired, i’m your boss.”

you laugh lightly.

“maybe i should fire you, would mean you’d get to stay home all the time.”

you laugh again and kiss him.

“well maybe i could take a sick day today.”

“don’t worry, i wont tell anyone.”

he smiles and kisses you again. all that time getting dressed was for nothing as bruce unbuttons the rest of your shirt and you slide your pants off. while this isn’t a usual part of the morning routine you’ve established, you welcome the variation.

you run your hands through bruce’s hair and watch his chest rhythmically rise and fall as he sleeps. you let him sleep as long as he seems to need to, which is much longer than you thought it’d be. you eventually drift off too, the sound of his quiet snoring lulling your eyes closed.

it’s not until late afternoon when you both wake up again, the thick curtains unable to hide the sliver of sunlight peering in.

“you let me sleep so late.” bruce sits up in bed.

“you seemed like you needed it.”

he leans down and kisses you then gets up and starts getting dressed.

“the weather is supposed to be nice today.” you sit up. “maybe we could go to the park.”

he looks at you and smiles.

“that would be nice.”

you get up and get dressed too.

“i’ll go ask alfred to pack us some lunch.”

“okay, sounds great.”

he gives you one more kiss before heading downstairs. you finish getting ready and grab your phone off the floor. a text from tim, your former coworker in california, sits in your notifications. he and his husband have adopted a young girl. you smile at the family photo he sent and reply with your congratulations. as you look at the message, you let your mind wander and start to think about the prospect. of course you know bruce would be an amazing parent. but you’re not sure if you’d be. or if that’s even what you want. your life is so perfect now and you don’t think you want any of it to change. at least not for a while.

you go downstairs and find bruce packing some sandwiches into a bag. he zips it up and looks at you.

“ready?” he asks.

“ready.”

you decide to walk to the park since it’s only a few blocks away. the sun sits on your skin like a warm blanket as you and bruce walk. the two of you sit by the pond under an oak and eat your late lunch. the sound of birds and ducks paired with the cool breeze rushing through the tree leaves make for a perfect spot. you and bruce lay down in the grass and kiss, your picnic site offering enough privacy that you don’t have to worry about people seeing you. it’s not as if either of you care anyway, really. you’re not trying to hide your relationship, and with bruce’s status it’d be nearly impossible to try. but you still try to avoid paparazzi when you can. you and bruce lie there in the park together until the sun sets slowly behind the hill.

“we should get going before it gets too dark.” bruce sits up.

“i suppose we should.”

bruce grabs the bag and holds your hand as you make your way back home. night falls quickly as you walk. with only a couple blocks to go, you hear a commotion up ahead in an alleyway. sounds of a fight echo down the street. bruce stops walking and lets go of your hand.

“stay here a second.” he hands the bag to you and starts walking toward the source of the sounds.

“wait, shouldn’t we call the police or something first? or maybe we just wait for the batman to come and take care of it. you shouldn’t go down there by yourself.”

“you can call the police.” he continues.

you let out an exasperated sigh and watch bruce turn the corner. you press the numbers 911 into your phone. you finger is just about to click the green button when a strong hand covers your mouth and drags you backwards. you scream into the glove as loud as you can but the fight drowns out your attempts at getting bruce’s attention. all you can do is move around as much as possible to try and shake this person off you but they tighten their grip and then you’re being pushed into the back of a van.

three other people are inside and they grab you. you feel the rope burn your wrists as they tie your hands together behind your back. your throat already feels like it’s being torn apart from screaming. one person spreads a strip of duct tape over your open mouth but you still try to scream for bruce. suddenly a sharp pain strikes the back of your head. the tears have been blurring your vision but now everything is even fuzzier. you let out one more sob before the pipe hits you again and everything goes black.

pain.

that’s the first thing you feel when you finally come to. that’s the only thing you feel. a throbbing, deep pain throughout your entire body like you were just spit out of a cement mixer. you’re hands are still tied behind you and your ankles are stuck to the legs of a metal chair.

you force your eyes open, but everything is still dark. have you gone blind? is your sight gone? where are you? who took you? why can’t you move? you cant see you can’t move you can’t breathe you can’t hear you’re hurting you’re crying you’re screaming you’re shaking you—

the sound of a heavy door swinging open makes you freeze. strong footsteps slowly get louder and louder, closer and closer. the footsteps stop behind you and then you’re assaulted by a harsh bright light. it was a hood over your head, and the figure has now taken it off. the footsteps make their way around you and he stops in front of the chair you’re tied to, his back toward you. your breath shakes as he just stands there, staring straight ahead.

then he starts… crying? his shoulders shake and he gets louder. no… he’s laughing. he slowly turns around to face you, his red painted on smile sending a chill down your spine.

he bends down so his face is level with yours, your noses so close they nearly touch.

“good morning sweetheart.”

the tears continue streaming down your face as he straitens back up and turns, walking toward a table against the wall in front of you. he stops at it and slowly picks up an almost comically large knife.

you sob at the sight of the weapon, knowing it’s intended for you.

“i have a problem.”

he sets the knife back on the table and turns, walking towards you. the door opens again and you see a man in a clown mask rush by and place a camera on a tripod in front of you. he presses a button and a red light comes on and flashes at you.

“a problem that can only be solved by you.”

you somehow find the strength to open your mouth and speak, the words coming out hoarse and quiet.

“…m—me?”

“yes. i am in need of some… capital. some dineros, some cold. hard. cash. now i know you’re dating ol’ brucie and i know he has some access to just a bit of money.” he walks around you and stands behind the chair. “so, brucie boy, from your friendly neighborhood joker, deposit some dolores for me in a safe and lock it up real tight. bring it to the chaplain bridge, in person, at midnight tonight along with the key and you’ll get to see your precious little babe once again.” he grabs your face and squishes your cheeks together.

“oh, silly me, i forgot to tell you how much! let’s see, oh, how about, $50 million. that seems fair enough, don’t ya think?!”

he bends down so his face is next to yours.

“isn’t 50 million enough to save the life of your dearly beloved?”

he pulls something out of his pocket. you feel the cold barrel of a gun press against your temple and let out a sob.

he pulls the gun off your head, still pointing it at you.

*click*

you scream and jolt away. terror runs through your body like electricity.

you look over and he’s still staring at you with the gun pointed in your direction. out of the barrel popped out a banner, with the word BANG! on it. he turns back to the camera and waves.

“see ya tonight.” his tone is sinister and he laughs again.

the man in the mask flips the camera off. he tosses the gun behind his back and it clacks as it hits the concrete. he claps his hands together.

“so! now’s all that’s left to do is sit by, hang tight, let loose, and wait for midnight!” he laughs again and he and the other man leave the room with the camera. the clang of the door closing echoes throughout the room as you sit there alone.

you let out an ear-piercing, guttural scream and continue sobbing. all you want is bruce. you call for him, over and over, hoping by some miracle he’ll hear you through the thick concrete walls. you keep screaming, so hard and so loud that you vomit. now bile covers the front of your shirt and tears cover your face.

the echo of the door rings through the room again and fast footsteps approach. another man in a clown mask with a syringe in his hand unties your arms. before you let him stab the needle in, you punch him in the throat as hard as you can muster. he gags at the blow at stumbles backwards, dropping the syringe. you lean to try and grab it and the chair you’re tied to tips over onto the floor. your face slams into the concrete and you hear a crunch in your nose. you cry out and now all you see is red. you fight through the pain and reach for the syringe. it’s right there, just centimeters away, when a large boot stomps on your hand, surely breaking multiple bones. you scream in pain as the chair is reset upright. you scream and sob as the men grab your arm and stab the now-dirty needle in your vein. you keep crying, but as the seconds go by, you hear yourself getting quieter. the room around you spins in slow motion as your eyelids get heavy. the last thing you see is the joker’s white face and red smile.

your eyes slowly flutter open again. you didn’t know this was even possible, but somehow you wake up in even more pain than before. the joker is still standing there in front of you. smiling. laughing.

“you’re spunky. i like you.”

you all but growl at him as he walks toward that table in the corner, picking the knife up again.

“i thought you’d be asleep until our appointment with good ol’ bruce but the tranq must have been watered down!” he turns to you and laughs.

he carries the knife as he walks toward you.

“at least now we can have a little fun!” he takes the knife and you close your eyes, preparing yourself for the pain. but instead you feel the rope around your wrists and ankles fall.

“what’s say we play a game, hmm? i’m gonna bring in three of my best boys. and the longer you can stay upright and fighting, the more likely i’ll be to not kill you and your dear dear bruce tonight.”

the door opens again and three sets of footsteps walk in behind you.

you just stay sitting in the chair. how are you supposed to fight these huge men?

the joker sighs.

“if you’re gonna be a party pooper, then i guess we’ll have to find another game to play. maybe… target practice?” he throws the knife above your head and it hits one of the three men square in the chest. he falls backwards. dead.

you gasp and try to hold back tears as the joker just laughs.

“guess i do need some practice… i was aiming for his head! haha!” he buckles over in laughter again as you try to catch your breath.

“well good news now is you only have to outlast two goons!”

you slowly stand up, not wanting the next knife to land in your sternum. one of the men walk over to you. the joker takes the gun from before out of his pocket and holds it up above his head.

“ready? fight!” he pulls the trigger with a click.

a huge fist comes flying at your face and makes contact with your cheek. you fall to the ground in pain. he kicks you in the stomach and you just stay there, laying on the ground. he stomps on your chest, your stomach, your head. all you feel is blow after blow. the joker is just laughing at your misery.

you feel a rush of adrenaline run through you and you growl in anger. when the next stomp comes toward you, you grab the booted foot and yank as hard as you can, bringing the man to the ground. you’re surprised you had the strength to do that. you quickly stand back up and kick him in the face, breaking his nose too. you kick him in the crotch and he screams. you sit on top of his chest and punch him with your unbroken hand. over and over and over. all you hear is the sound of the joker’s maniacal laugh and your own grunts as you beat the guy’s face in until he no longer resembles even a man. finally you stop, feeling proud of your strength but guilty for your brutality.

before you can get up from sitting on him, the other man is picking you up and slamming you into the concrete. your shoulder hits the ground hard and you scream. he picks you up again and throws you back first, your head colliding with the concrete so hard you’re sure they’ve both cracked. he grabs the front of your shirt and lifts you up. your body goes limp from exhaustion and he forcefully sits you back on the chair. he punches your face. one. two. three. four. five. six. times then he finally walks away. your vision is blurred and you’re seeing colorful stars flash all around you. you look down and see blood dripping down from your face and onto your lap. the joker just laughs again.

“well, you fought off one! bravo! of course that means only one of you will die tonight. shame. lovers dying together is the sweetest ending of all. romeo and juliet… swan lake… the notebook...” he pretends to wipe a tear. “but oh well. at least now you get to pick who dies! haha!”

“me.” you immediately answer. “kill me. not him.”

“awww how noble! sacrificing yourself for the love of your life, it’s a beautiful thing! very well. you’ll be the one to die.” he takes out a pocket watch. “my oh my look at that! it’s showtime, baby!”

you get tied up again and dragged out of the room. the hood is placed back on your head before exiting, and you’re thrown back into a van. the drive is longer than you expected. how far out of town were you?

the van stops after what you guess was about a half hour long drive.

you’re dragged back out of the van and onto the street. the hood is removed and the joker is gripping your neck and leading you onto the bridge.

you make it to the middle and he shoves you to the ground. you only now notice the gun in his hand.

“oh bru-uce! show me the money, baby!”

his voice echos across the water under the bridge and you wait. you hope he doesn’t come. you hope he’s decided to let the police handle it. you hope he didn’t choose to risk his life for you. because although the joker assured you that you’d be the one to die, you obviously can’t trust that he won’t pull the trigger on bruce too.

“come out come out, wherever you are!” the joker yells in a singsongy voice. “well isn’t this a disappointment! at least it was gonna be fun to kill you. now i almost can’t even enjoy it.” he points the gun in the center of your forehead. you close your eyes and let yourself cry.

you picture bruce’s face. flashbacks of when you first met him come to mind and you go through it all. you think of his smile, how it was crooked and always made you smile back. you think of his hair, how it was always just a little tussled and never quite laid flat. you think of his skin, how it was warm and how it felt against yours. you think of his laugh, how it can at times feel rare but when you hear it, it’s like the world stops. you think of his eyes, how they’d glow like warm honey when the sunlight hit them just right. tears stream as you think of every part of him. how you wish you’d spent more time memorizing him.

you hear the cocking of the gun and you gasp. you only now realize how afraid you are to die.

suddenly a loud clang behind you startles your eyes open and the joker stumbles backward. a large, dark figure comes swooping in and tackles the joker to the ground. the gun is kicked away and you watch as the batman punches the joker in the face, repeatedly. the men from the van come rushing in and the batman takes each one down with little effort.

soon, he’s standing in the lowlight of the bridge, looming over the bodies of his victims of vengeance. he walks back over to the joker and picks him up by his collar and holds him over the bridge above the water. the joker laughs.

“well then what’s it gonna be batty-boy?! you gonna kill me?! do it!”

the batman hesitates to drop him into the rough rushing river water below.

“do it!” the joker laughs in his face again.

you see the shine of red and blue lights flashing behind you and hear sirens. the sound of many footsteps come rushing onto the bridge as officers take the bodies off the ground and into custody. a few more train their guns at the batman and instruct him to let the joker go. after some time, he flings the joker back over the railing and slams him onto the ground. the officers rush to handcuff the joker and the batman walks away, back toward you.

“this isn’t over, batman! it’ll never be over!” the joker laughs again as he’s dragged away by the officers.

the batman bends down behind you and unties the ropes around your wrists.

“are you okay?” he asks, quietly. his low, gravely voice tinges with familiarity.

you just nod and he scoops you up and carries you to the ambulance. he gently sits you on the gurney and the paramedics begin treating your wounds and setting up an iv. the batman just stands there and watches, as if to make sure you’ll really be okay. you stare back at him, trying to place this strange gut feeling. the medics walk away for a moment to grab something else, leaving you and the batman there, just looking at each other.

the medics come back and start to bring you into the ambulance. up until the moment the doors close, you and the batman just continue staring. the medicine you’ve been given starts to work as you feel your eyelids get heavy. your last thought before passing out is of bruce.

the tubes in your nose and the cast on your arm are the first things you notice when you awake. your eyes adjust to the light of the hospital room and you look around, your eyes landing on an unexpected face.

tim is there, sitting by the window sleeping. alfred is in a chair next to him. he notices you’re awake and presses the alert for the nurse.

“hello, dear.”

“alfred…”

“i’ve called for the nurse. just relax.”

“…where’s bruce.”

“he… had to go to the police station. to finish up the case.”

“but he’s okay?”

“physically, yes. but i don’t think i’ve ever seen him so distraught. i’ll call him now and tell him you’re awake. he’ll want to see you.” alfred leaves the room and you see him dial his phone.

the nurse comes in and checks your vitals, making sure you’re getting enough medicine. you have a concussion, a broken hand, your shoulder was out of socket, and your nose had to be realigned. apparently it’s been days since the incident.

the joker is in custody at arkham, but that’s doesn’t give you much reassurance since he apparently has broken out of there before.

tim wakes up and walks over to you with tears streaming down his face.

“are you okay?” he asks.

“just peachy.”

he laughs lightly and wipes a tear away.

“i was so scared.”

“me too.”

“but you’re gonna be okay now. you’re okay now.” he reassures himself. you didn’t know you meant so much to him.

“thank you tim.”

he smiles softly.

“i should go call chris and let him know you’re okay.“

“okay.”

tim walks out of the room as alfred comes back in.

“bruce will be here soon.”

“thank you. i’m glad you’re here alfred.”

“of course, love.”

tim comes back in and says that chris sends his regards.

“he’s been worried sick, watching the news while also taking care of the baby.”

“if you need to go tim, go. i understand.”

“im sorry i can’t stay.”

“really tim, it’s okay. thank you for being here.”

tim smiles and holds your good hand.

“i’m just so glad you’re okay.”

“thank you.” you smile back at him and he leaves.

alfred moves the chair to be closer to your bed and he holds your hand as you wait in silence for bruce.

bruce comes rushing in wet from the rain with tears in his eyes. alfred gets up from the chair and gives it to bruce. bruce sits in the chair, holding your hand, and the two of you just sit there together.

you’ve never felt fear like that before. of course you were afraid when your mother died, but you were so young. and your father was sick for a long time before he passed, so this crippling feeling of terror was something you’ve never had to experience before and something you hope you’ll never experience again.

“i’m so sorry.” bruce fights back tears. “i should’ve never left you alone. i should’ve known better. i thought i was protecting you but really i just put you in danger. this is all my fault.”

“no it’s not.”

“it is.”

“no, bruce. it’s not.”

“i was just so… angry. at him. i still am. i really thought i was going to kill him.”

you furrow your brows in confusion.

“you mean… like… if you’d have been there? at the bridge?”

you notice alfred looks up at bruce with a curious look on his face. bruce turns his head to look back at him. alfred just nods.

you look at both of them, perplexed by this silent agreement between them.

“what’s going on?”

“there’s something you need to know… about me.”

“okay…?”

“i… i’ll show you when we get back home.”

“alright.”

bruce and alfred clear you with the doctor and confirm that you’re ready to leave so you get in the car to go home. you just lay in the backseat with your head on bruce’s lap. he runs his hand through your hair as alfred drives you all home.

the press is already there, ready to get a statement from you and bruce about the whole ordeal. of course you and bruce don’t say a word as he carries you inside.

he sets you down on the couch and lights a fire. alfred goes to the kitchen to make you something to eat. you lay on bruce’s chest on the sofa, watching the flames rise and fall. the heat of the fire brings you comfort, but bruce’s warm touch makes you feel at peace for the first time since that day at the park.

hours go by, the fire has become just a few orange embers, and you and bruce have eaten dinner. you suddenly remember what bruce said back at the hospital.

“what is it you wanted to tell me?”

bruce sighs and helps you up off the couch.

“i need to show you something.”

you slowly walk hand in hand to the library down the hall. you don’t come in here much but you know bruce and alfred do.

bruce goes to a wall in the back and pulls a book off the shelf. you hear a click and he pulls the wall out, revealing it’s a door to an elevator.

“what the fuck…”

bruce opens the elevator door and leads you inside.

“what is this?”

“something you need to see.”

the elevator slowly brings you down to a lower level you didn’t even know existed. bruce opens the door and leads you out of the elevator and into a basement. or at least what you think is a basement. inside, you see computers, televisions, and other tech items around. a motorcycle sits there too… along with a familiar-looking car. bruce lets you wander through the area. you try to absorb what this all is.

“what exactly am i looking at here, bruce?”

he walks over to a door and opens it to a closet. what’s inside, sitting on the shelf, makes you gasp. you slowly pick up the mask.

“i’m sorry i didn’t tell you.”

“why… how…”

“i’ve been doing this for years now. i just… this is how im able to try and help. only alfred knows.”

“and you couldn’t tell me? why?”

“everyone who knows about this is in danger. i couldn’t knowingly do that to you. but you deserve to know.”

“i… don’t even know what to say.”

bruce closes the closet door.

“i come down here every night. that’s why i’ve been gone so early in the morning. i’ve known about joker for a while and have been trying to track his whereabouts.”

“but now, he’s locked up. he’s gone.”

“as long as he’s alive, he’s a danger. and it’s not just him. you’ve lived here your whole life. you know what these streets are like.”

you just nod.

“so… this is what you do every night. you go out, after i fall asleep then return before i wake up.”

“i try. but some nights are longer than others.” bruce walks up to you and holds your hand. “but now you know.”

you just nod again, not quite knowing what to say.

“i will never forgive myself for leaving you alone that night, and i will spend the rest of my life trying to make up for it.”

you look up at him. a tear rolls down his cheek and you wipe it away, leaving your hand on his face.

“i was so afraid of losing you.” he speaks barely above a whisper.

“you’re not gonna lose me. i’m here. i’ll always be here.”

he kisses you. in this room, this room that’s been kept a secret from you. this other side of bruce that’s been kept a secret from you. you want to be angry, but all you feel now is peace as he holds you in his arms.

whatever future may come, whatever troubles you will inevitably be forced to face, you know that you’ll now be able to do it together.

…………………………………………………………………………………….

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bye-bye-sunbird · 2 years

Note

Theres no doubt in my mind Capitano is well-known man throughout Teyvat, and should his name not be as recognizable as his comrades, he should be known enough to have built up a sizeable list of enemies. So this rises the question, how would he feel if his darling was stolen away from him?

I can imagine it now, It was a plan so meticulously crafted down to the very last dot. His enemies have no limits in taking this behemoth down, perhaps they'd studied the dove long enough to know they like to sit in their shared garden, seemingly less supervised. Or maybe they watched long enough to know that they're weakened by the sounds of wounded animals and just has to answer the calls of an injured bird or fox. No matter the situation, by some miracle, they've been stolen away.

And it makes me wonder, which of darling's captors will live longest to see their brethren ripped to absolute shreds?

WARNING: Under the cut is a graphic depiction of violence, murder, and body horror (not against the reader)

He is used to what true fear looks like.

He grabbed one man's head and squeezed. It deformed easily as if it were nothing but a boiled apple. Of all the terrible screams that ever fell on mortal ears, none could surpass that man's animalistic cry. As soon as he releases his grip, the corpse falls to the ground, its warm blood gushing from his eyes and ears.

The rest of them tried to run away and were seen squeezing and crushing each other in their eagerness to flee, running frantically with faces horribly contorted by the fear that devoured them. Not one would manage to escape him. Capitano loomed over them, his great sword a giant in the dark that drew red patterns against the far moon as he swung.

"Y-you... you tried to warn us."

The man appointed to be your guard had curled up against the door when he heard the screams and the horrid sounds of blood and guts spilling everywhere. But the dreadful silence that followed is what droves him half-mad by terror.

He crawls towards you, unable to stand due to the tremors on his legs.

"Please... please stop him, t-tell him... tell him I never harmed you."

You look at him with pity, tears running down your face, and barely manage to whisper: "He won't listen to me."

Slow, heavy steps are heard outside.

The man nods shakenly, the impossibility of his request heaving down on his shoulders, and, coming to terms with his fate, takes your hands to his temple.

"... Will you pray for me?"

#the capitano agenda #yandere capitano x reader #capitano x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere harbingers #yandere fatui harbingers #tw: violence #tw: graphic depictions of violence #tw: murder #tw: body horror #anon ask

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odysseussolar · 3 months

Text

I caved.

Writing it right now, the first chapter has zero gore but that will be changing in the next few chapters, trust 🙏🏾

I did link the post by tooncraze on the fic

#trolls #trolls fanfic #tw: graphic depictions of violence #warning y’all now #dark trolls fanfic #kinda scary #this is so interesting #trolls alternate universe #branch is a cannibal #cannibal branch au

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silverutahraptor · 3 months

Text

Asian Drama Tropes 2024—January

For the @asian-drama-tropes event 2024. I’ll be publishing one true drabble (100 words exactly) per month for the event :)

January | Prompt: Blood sworn siblings

“From this day on, we shall be as sisters. Our goal is to find peace between our Clans, and though we are not born on the same day, we hope to die on the same day. This we swear.” The words ring hollow in Madara’s mind as she chokes on blood. The sword piercing her chest feels like it’s burning. She, at least, had not come expecting to survive this fight. It seems Hashirama has forgotten even their oath, though; her face for once rivals her cursed brother’s in coldness. “Liar,” Madara sighs, and prays for the gods’ wrath on her friend.

#Asian-drama-tropes-2024 #January | blood sworn siblings #SilverUtahraptor #Naruto #fanfiction #Senju Hashirama/Uchiha Madara #TW: Graphic Depictions Of Violence #(just to be sure)#Drabble #raptor writes #naruto founders #HashiMada #uchiha madara #Senju Hashirama #my writing #the oath part is shamelessly stolen from romance of the three kingdoms

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n3on-graveston3s-calling · 3 months

Text

Born to Break

Word Count: 2,454

Rating: Explicit

Characters: Akagami no Shanks | Red-Haired Shanks, Benn Beckman, Yasopp, Lucky Roux, Eustass Kid, Killer, Heat, Wire, Original Male Character

Warnings: Blood, Gore, Injury, Amputation, Hysteria, Canon Compliant Violence, Vomiting, Waterboarding, Attepmted Drowning, Angst,

Author's Notes: For @febuwhump 2024 Day 3: Bite Down On This.

PLEASE PAY ATTENTION TO THE WARNINGS. This gets gnarly. And it's canon-compliant, taking place during the two year timeskip in which Eustass went in with two arms and came out with one. Thanks, Beckmann. With a healthy dash of KidKiller because i love them.

Oh, right. Do y'all remember that scene in episode 67 of the original Naruto series where Gaara is screaming hysterically during the exams about his blood?

Yeah. Keep that in mind for me, will you? You'll know when it comes into play.

You can also find this on my Archive.

Summary:

“Captain!” Heat called from behind them. They’d covered them in water- had splashed them once, twice, three times before ducking his head under the water of the river. Waterboarding him, drowning him, snuffing out the fire that they spewed regularly. That’s why he couldn’t help, Killer thought as Shanks relented, stepping away, blade pulling free of his throat. “Captain, get up!” Heat called out once more. “What did you do?” Killer whispered as sat up slowly, body screaming in anguish. His ribs were certainly broken; how many? He couldn’t tell, but breathing hurt, moving hurt, his arm was bloodied and oh, god, was that blood surrounding Eustass? “What did you DO?!” He howled, launching himself to his feet only to be met with the muzzle of that damned sawed off shotgun that Beckmann used.

Sometimes, you really underestimate how things will go.

The sound of footsteps was loud in the silence that followed after the clash. The movement caught Killer’s attention first; he glanced up towards Shanks, who watched with an almost smug expression. That spiked something in him, some dormant fear that prickled with anxiety, that had his hands sweating, had his heart racing in his chest. He shifted, attention turning towards where his Captain should have been. The ground was dry, too dry; dust was kicked up with every small movement. With the blood and sweat that was in his own eyes, it was hard to see, hard to make out what he was seeing.

Beckmann was walking away- no, walking towards him. That’s why Shanks was so smug, pinning him with his foot on his skull, his blade at his throat. Anytime he swallowed, the steel dug in a little more, drawing forth scarlet that trickled slowly down the length of it. His breath caught in his throat as the dust finally cleared away, giving way to… Kidd? Why was he on the ground? “What-” he croaked out, only to groan as Shanks pressed his weight into his foot. The pain was excruciating, his jaw clenching as a yell pulled free from somewhere deep within him.

“What did you do?” Killer whispered as sat up slowly, body screaming in anguish. His ribs were certainly broken; how many? He couldn’t tell, but breathing hurt, moving hurt, his arm was bloodied and oh, god, was that blood surrounding Eustass? “What did you DO?!” He howled, launching himself to his feet only to be met with the muzzle of that damned sawed off shotgun that Beckmann used.

His finger was on the trigger.

His arm was black; coated in Haki. Haki- Beckmann had Haki?

Shit. Killer blinked hard beneath the mask, trying to clear his vision. “Heat, what do you see?” He asked their third mate, who was silent. Silence was never a good answer. “Heat, answer.”

“I uh…” The waver in their voice was enough to set them all on edge. “I don’t think-”

“An arm for an arm, though your captain wasn’t the one to cost me mine.” Shanks answers in a near-chipper manner from behind him. “What will he do now? The Captain of the Kidd Pirates, beaten like a bad dog. But that’s what you all are, aren’t you?” The chuckle that escapes from Shanks is nothing short of sinister. “You come here to challenge us, to challenge me… For what reason? I have nothing to give you.”

An arm. Beckmann took Kidd’s arm.

“I-” Killer began to retaliate verbally before a sound caught their attention.

It started softly. Like a pained whine from a dog, high and reedy and nerve-grating. “My arm,” Kidd whispered, his gaze trained on the limb sitting on the ground three feet in front of him. It bled, oozing garnet onto ivory sand. He could see the bone standing out; shattered mid-way, nothing near a clean break. This wasn’t a break. That was his arm. Those were his fingers, painted black. Those were his rings.

That was his arm.

His arm.

“My arm.” His voice was barely above a whisper as he blinked once, hard. His heart was hammering in his chest so hard, he could see the remnants of his shirt moving with each beat. “My arm.” He repeated, dazedly. Adrenaline was starting to leave his bloodstream, sweating out through his pores. The pain was odd. He could feel his arm, still- no, no, he can’t. That’s only his mind thinking that he can feel it, that he can feel the sensation of his fingers twitching, of the nerves dying, of his hand growing numb and cold because the blood isn’t returning, it’s leaking out on the ground and oh, gods, that’s his FUCKING ARM. “MY ARM!” He screamed as reality set in. He reached over to the freely bleeding stump, fingers meeting torn flesh and muscle and fatty tissue that just hung limply, and shattered bone that pricked at his fingertips. “MY ARM! YOU TOOK MY ARM! MY ARM! MY ARM! MY ARM!”

“Ah, the hysterics.” Shanks hums, cleaning Gryphon on the edge of his trousers. The steel hissed as it returned to its home within the sheath.

Wire was stilled in the grasp of Lucky Roux, blood trickling down his forehead as he stared at Eustass. They took his arm? His arm ripped clean off. How the fuck did Beckmann do that? Did he have a devil fruit? Haki? He felt sick to his stomach, turning in Roux’s grasp to gag once, twice, before the bigger man released him to allow him to spill the contents of his stomach.

“I could finish him off,” Shanks offered Killer, reaching out to settle his arm around his shoulders, pulling him back against himself as if he were some friend, some companion. “What do ye say, lad? I finish off yer Captain, you lot come an’ join me and my crew?”

“Fuck you.” Killer spat, shaking in his grasp. “Fuck you.”

“Not my type.”

Beckmann snorts as he turns the gun, aiming now at Kidd. “One shot to the head, all it takes.”

“NO!” Heat screamed, pulling himself free from Yasopp, rushing forward to stand between Beckmann and his Captain, who was muttering under his breath about his arm. Hysterical; they couldn’t blame him. “Please- spare him. Spare us.” They pleaded, falling to their knees before the two men. “We won’t come after either of ye again. Just- spare him, spare his life. Please.”

Shanks and Benn study one another; a silent conversation between Captain and First Mate, something Killer was familiar with. He and Kidd did that often, knowing the other well enough to not have to use verbal language. “Fine.” Shanks shrugged, grinning as he released Killer, and stepped back. “I’m tired of this anyway. Find us in the New World, if yer Captain survives. I’d like a rematch, there. Get stronger.” Brown gaze settled upon Kidd, taking in the damage Beckmann had dealt. “You’re in the big leagues, now.”

And just like that, it was over.

Killer rushed forward, falling to his knees in the blood soaked sand before Kidd. “Eustass?” He whispered, reaching up to cup his cheeks, dragging his head up. His pupils were blown; his skin was pale with blood loss and shock. “We gotta get you up. It’s gonna hurt.”

“The arm-” Eustass tried to argue.

Killer shook his head. He didn’t argue as Heat came round the other side. It took a moment of figuring out where hands could rest before they had him up and balanced between themselves. Wire did grab the arm, wrapped it up in his jacket. The Red Haired Pirates went back towards the beach; they retreated to the town.

Eustass Kidd passed out two minutes into the walk, much to the alarm of his crew.

─────────────────────

The next time he came to, he was laying down on a cot in what he assumed to be a doctor’s office. He blinked hard, eyes squeezing shut. Everything felt dulled; his head lulled to the right, meeting with a white wall. Huh. To the left, then. Ah, that’s better. A room! Killer is standing, talking to some dude in a white coat. Doctor, he hopes and assumes. Wire is sitting across from him in some chairs; Heat is slumped against his shoulder, their eyes closed, breathing even. Sleepy, sleepy Heat.

Eustass looks down to his torso. Bruising already beginning to bloom; he can feel a cracked rib or two, certainly. Drip, drip, drip. What was dripping? Did someone leave a faucet on? He huffed, going to sit up, only to find himself suddenly unable to. Something was holding him down. What? He frowned at the black straps that held his shoulders and chest. Why was he pinned?

“Hey, doccccc,” he drawled out, slurring his words like a drunkard. “Wha’s happenin’? Why cannae I… Shite.” He winced at the sudden flare of pain. What the fuck? “Wiiiire?”

“Eustass-” Killer began, stepping over as Wire shook his head. Heat woke up, then. Rubbed at their eyes, smearing their eye black. “You need to stay still.”

“Why?” He didn’t WANT to stay still. He needed to piss. “I need t’tae a leak.”

“You-” Killed glanced back. Wait, where was Killer’s mask? Why could he see his pretty blue eyes so clearly? Why was his lip split open? What-

The fight.

It all rushed back suddenly, playing out in the forefront of his mind. Eustass reels from the memory, from the pain that also returns in a weird, dulled form. “My arm,” he whined, head lifting to look at the bloodied bandages that covered the stump. “He took my arm!”

“I’m afraid there’s still work t’be done, lad,” the doctor murmured, coming to stand by his head. Eustass looked up, ruby gaze frantic as he searches this strange doctor’s face. His eyes were lighter than Killer’s, hair a mousy brown. “I’ve got to close you up.”

“You can’t reattach it?”

“No, laddie. I cannae.”

Oh. Kidd swallowed roughly, looked to Killer who reached up, cupped his cheek. “I’m not leaving the room.”

“Okay.”

“Bite down on this.” The doctor placed a block in his mouth. Wood, thick, slotted between his jaws to allow his teeth to clench down onto, grind into.

His breath started coming quickly, then. Chest rising and falling rapidly as Killer was forced to move, to stand at his head while the doctor moved further down. He couldn’t watch, didn’t want to watch, squeezed his eyes shut as Killer settled his hands on his shoulders.

Killer watched, instead.

He’d seen his fair share of amputations over the years. Things got bad back home; sometimes, you do what you must to survive, even if that means sawing through your own leg because it’d grown necrotic. That was the fear, here, that Kidd’s stump would grow necrotic. Stump. That’s what it was, Killer realized as the doctor- a man named Ronan- removed the wraps. Already soaked through, a small puddle on the floor had formed. The bandages landed with a harsh splat on the ground. He looked beyond, gaze settling upon the bone saw that sat on the table.

They should have called Law.

But Trafalgar was Gods know where, now. A hundred meters under the water, probably. Or less. Or more, Killer didn’t know how that weird ass yellow submarine worked.

Ronan sprayed the stump with water. Kidd hissed, whined, whimpered, wheezed at the sensation.

“Can’t we knock him out?” Heat asked from the side.

“I did. He woke up.”

“Killer?” Heat pleaded, and Killer shook his head.

“The pain will knock him out in a minute,” Ronan added as he grabbed hold of the bonesaw. “Or the shock.”

“Are you sure you’re a doctor?”

“As sure as you are that you’re a pirate.”

Killer shut up, then. Lips pressed tightly together, the bolt of pain like lightning from his split lip. His helmet had been cracked in more than one place; it would need to be repaired, eventually. But not right now. Not now. No, now-

He felt like he would puke.

The saw settled on the exposed bone. At least three inches of bone was still exposed after Ronan had cut away the “skin flaps”, as he’d referred to the loose skin. Eustass had been under for that. Ronan began to move his arm back, forth, back, forth.

The scream that escaped Eustass had every hair on Killer’s body standing on end. It warbled, high and pained and oh, Gods, he wished he would just pass out. Just pass out, pass out, pass out now. Please, Gods, please! Eustrass tried to pull away, but Killer held him in place.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Killer whispered over and over as Eustass sobbed, tears rolling from his eyes. “I’m so sorry, Captain.”

Eustass fell limp. For a brief moment, Killer assumed he’d just died. No- no, he was still breathing. It was a relief, then. He wouldn’t be able to feel any of this. The bone was cracking beneath the saw, falling away after ten minutes of consistent sawing. Ronan worked quickly, suturing and cleaning and doing things that Killer wasn’t really sure of, but the bleeding had slowed, and if Kidd died, he knew where to find this doctor.

─────────────────────

It was dark when Kidd woke again. His mouth felt like it was full of cotton, his head felt just as heavy. The bed beneath him was soft, though; it didn’t rock with the movements of waves, meaning he was ashore. He groaned softly as pain rocked through him. “Shite,” he hissed, reaching up to rub at his face.

His arm didn’t move. His left arm didn’t move.

He looked down in confusion and saw empty space and blood speckled bandages instead. That’s right- he’d lost the arm. Beckmann had ripped it off of his body. Movement drew his gaze up, watching as Killer stepped in. Maskless, bandaged, hair tied up in a messy bun. “Eus?”

“‘M awake.” He grumbled, rising up with a hiss and far more effort than it should normally take. His back settled against the headboard. “Where are we?”

“Same island we’ve been on. It’s-... It’s been a week.”

“A week?”

“Yeah.”

“How?”

“Kept you loaded up on pain killers. You uh…” Killer rubbed the back of his head. He had been asleep in the other room. “You needed them.”

Eustass frowned as he stared at his partner. Killer shifted his weight. “C’mere. Bed’s cold.” He huffed, watching Killer carefully climb into the right side. He didn’t wait for him to settle, leaning in against him heavily. “Beckmann ripped off my arm.”

“He did.”

“I’m gonna kill him.”

“We are.”

“We are gonna wipe those shitty little rodents off the map.” Eustass muttered, eyes closing. His breath started to grow uneven; the hint of a sob escaping. “I’m gonna fuckin’ kill them all.”

Killer didn’t speak as he wound his arms around Eustass, pulling him close, lips pressing to his temple as Kidd broke down. Yes, they would kill Shanks, and Beckmann, and Yasopp, and Lucky Roux. They would all die for what they did to Eustass. To his Captain. His partner. His world.

Killer would make sure of it.

#febuwhumpday3 #one piece #eustass captain kidd #massacre soldier killer #febuwhump2024 #kidkiller #heat one piece #wire one piece #akagami no shanks #benn beckman #tw: graphic depictions of violence #tw: blood #tw: amputation #tw: waterboarding #post marineford #this hurt

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juneknight · 2 years

Text

Idling//5

Previous drabble here.

About this: MK/fem!reader. Graphic violence, blood, and injury. Recreational alcohol.

You meet Moon Knight.

It makes sense that you would meet him this way. So much sense in fact that for a moment you were afraid that Marc and Steven would think you had contrived it—but then you have much bigger things to worry about.

It starts with a girl’s night out. You’d been blowing off your friends for weeks, too caught up in your new relationship (though after six months now, it was hardly new). You were lucky that they were even still reaching out to you; you owed them a girl’s night.

“Can we stay in, though?” you’d asked. “Meet up at my flat, maybe? I’ll order—yes, Mr. Hoffman. I’m confirming right now that the package is to be marked return to sender and not destroyed. Oh, no, it’s absolutely no problem—alright, sorry, my boss walked by and you know how she is about us taking personal calls on company time. Anyway, I’d rather not have to walk home in the dark of London, you know?”

“Wow, I can tell you’ve been cooped up for too long,” your friend says. “There’s absolutely nothing to be scared about as a woman walking home at night in London these days. Don’t you know?”

You reach up, pressing the phone closer to your ear. “Know what?”

It turns out that Moon Knight is London’s worst kept secret. You feel sick thinking about how the whole city seemed to know what Marc and Steven’s body has been up to at night except for them.

Drinks. Laughs. Dancing. You do your best to enjoy the evening even as you look at your phone far too often. Steven said his goodnight to you an hour ago but sometimes his insomnia wakes him. As lovely as it is to see your friends again, you wish more than anything that you were with Steven back at his flat. There’s only so much you can share about your boyfriend—not his struggles, not his nighttime extracurricular activities, not his alters—without his wishes. You can’t help but feel like you’re keeping secrets from them, which has you feeling more morose than ever while you listen to their cheerful updates on their lives.

One of your friends gets too drunk. She’s about to leave alone but Moon Knight or not, you feel obligated to go with her. Maybe safety in numbers isn’t needed, but making sure she doesn’t stumble into the wrong flat is.

Arm in arm, you traipse along sidewalks tracing the way to your friend’s flat. Afterward you’ll likely just head home to your own.

“Lookit the moon,” your friend says, voice round and loose as you watch her buzz her way into the building. Above the both of you, it is a sharp crescent, threatening violence even as it gives you butterflies. She’s so busy staring upwards that she has to buzz again. “My god, it’s beautiful isn’t it? Thanks for walking me home, love. Don’t be such a stranger!”

You’re nearly in between Steven’s apartment and your own, but you decide to head back to yours in the end; the last thing you want to do is wake him if he’s fallen asleep. Every now and then you are drawn back to look at the moon, feeling its strange pull. Or maybe you were more buzzed than you thought.

Looking up makes you collide head on with a man looking down at his phone. He curses as it goes flying from his hands.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” you say, leaning down to pick up his phone—an old flip phone. Dinosaur, it is, you think. Haven’t seen someone use one of those since you made Marc and Steven join the twenty first century. “Oh no.”

The phone is missing its back and its battery.

“Fuck,” the man sighs. The two of you scan the darkness of the sidewalk to no avail.

“Maybe there?” you suggest, pointing to the alleyway beside you.

“Does your phone have a light?” the man asks, holding his phone up and angling it towards the dim streetlamp to look for cracks in the case. “Can’t see shite without my own.”

Phone light on, you sweep the glow back and forth along the mouth of the alleyway.

“I’m sorry, I don’t see it.”

“I feel terrible,” you say. “Please give me a way to contact you and I’ll pay for a new one.”

“It’s alright,” says the man. He reaches out and wraps his fingers around your wrist, squeezing tight past the point of pain. “Guess I’ll just have yours.”

He wrenches you into the dark alley. Even just a few feet off of the street changes the entire atmosphere; it is darker here, quieter, smelling like a London alley would. Caught off guard as you are, one swift push knocks you off your balance and down to your hands and knees.

A voice comes from deeper within the alley, and for a moment you think you’ve been saved—you don’t even need a hero, just a Good Samaritan who can maybe scare off the man above you. But when he rips your phone out of your hand and hands it to the other, your hope is snuffed like a matchstick in the wind.

“Keep quiet and this will be real easy. We don’t want to hurt you,” says the first man. “We’ll take the phone and your purse and we’ll call it even.”

“Fine,” you say. You aren’t sure if you can believe them, but you’re at their mercy. Hands shaking, you work to unclasp your clutch from where you had secured it around yourself before leaving with your friend.

“Come on,” the second man groans, bouncing up on his toes to keep an eye on the end of the alley where the occasional car passes by. “Jesus, hurry it up or we’ll cut it off you.“

“I’m trying,” you snap.

He strikes you across the face, a dizzying blow that brings instant tears to your eyes. “What’d I say lady? Keep quiet. Just because we don’t wanna hurt doesn’t mean we won’t.”

You nod, barely hearing him over the ringing in your ears. Trying to unclasp the purse is even harder now though with your blurred vision, the complete lack of moonlight.

That darkness is where he comes from. The man who struck you is there one moment and gone the next, pulled deeper into the alley and out of your vision. There is the sound of a struggle that is then cut ominously short.

The other drops your phone and makes a break for it, but the Knight is faster. You’ve heard Steven and Marc describe the ceremonial armor—and Steven’s suit, which you imagine he looks very dapper in—but unique as this alter is, he has an outfit all his own, with gray bandages across his every surface except for a bare strip revealing his eyes. The cape and cowl are in tatters, having seen better days.

On his hands, it looks like he has pulled on a pair of worn leather gloves.

The Knight breezes past you as if you weren’t there, rustling the air around you. One savage kick to the back sends the retreating mugger sprawling with such vigor that his head strikes the concrete and his body goes still.

All at once, they are alone.

You feel breathless, even as you pant. One hand reaches up to tenderly touch the arch of your cheek, feeling wetness that could be blood or tears for all the pain it brings.

He approaches you with slow, thoughtful steps. Bending down, he picks up your phone and offers it to you without a word.

His eyes—those eyes you know so well—scan you from head to toe, narrowing in on your wounded face. Before you can open your mouth to say a word to him, you both hear the sound of one of the men coming to.

“Vete,” Marc’s body says to you. His voice gives you goosebumps, so similar to Marc’s but so different. He stalks into the alley and with ease picks up the man who struck you, forcing him to stand even as he sways dangerously. To the man he says: “Oye. No te ves tan bien. ¿Necesitas un médico? Hel-lo? No. Un médico no puede ayudarte.”

The Knight seems to conjure from thin air a piece of metal just as thin, curved, and dangerous as the crescent moon above you.

“Hey—“ you say, scrambling to your feet. Your head still spins as you struggle to get your balance, but you see that the Moon Knight has frozen at the sound of your voice, narrow strip of exposed eyes turned towards you even as he holds the struggling man in place, blade pressed beneath his chin. “Hey, you, you don’t have to do that. They wouldn’t want you to do that.”

You approach him like you might a scared, wild animal. The man who tried to mug you goes still as he realizes that you’re actually trying to save his life, barely daring to breathe unless the blade breaks his skin.

“Do you recognize me?” you ask lowly. He doesn’t respond, but those eyes—those eyes know you. The revelation makes you feel faint. “I know you. Sort of. I know your flatmates too. This…isn’t what they would want you to do.”

You reach out, fingers trembling, palm up. He stares at your open hand, and his grip on the blade shifts.

Marc’s body slits the man’s throat in one smooth motion. Your entire being recoils in horror, a spray of blood splattering against your bare legs. The mugger doesn’t even seem to realize what has happened, reaching up to touch at the gaping wound in his neck. He is let go, crumpling to the dirty ground of the alley.

“No me importa,” the alter says to you. He slips back into the shadows and is gone like smoke.

Next drabble here.

#jake lockley x reader #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #tw: graphic depictions of violence #tw: blood

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monsterfluffersrus · 7 months

Photo

Take Enough Soul

Author: hollyblue2 (@envydean)

Artist: lmrb19 (@spn-fanfic-reblog-writes)

Pairings: Dean/Castiel. Side pairings: Benny/Jimmy Novak (minor), implied Sam/Rowena, Sam/Unnamed female character (minor)

Archive Warnings: Graphic Depiction of Violence, Rape/Non-Con

Tags: Demon!Dean/Human!Cas, alternate universe, summoning demons, selling of souls, one sided love, angst, hurt/very little comfort, cock bulging, bottom!Cas, slight body horror, ambiguously happy ending, temporary major character death

Summary: Dean is summoned to an old cabin in the middle of the woods by a man who has lost his brother. After making sure Castiel’s soul is worth the bargain, Dean goes in search of Castiel’s brother only to find that he’s not on Earth, but in Hell.

Unfortunately for Castiel, deals are addictive and once he’s made one, he finds he has Dean wrapped around his finger.

Link to fic | Link to art

#submission #SPNMonsterFlufferFest #SPN Monster Fluffer Bang #dean/cas #author: hollyblue2 #artist: lmrb19 #tw: graphic depictions of violence #tw: rape/noncon

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ebonyslasher · 6 months

Text

Gut Spill

This is absolutely so late, lol. I wanted this to be put up by Friday the 13th but oh well.

Goretober Prompt: Gut Spill

Character: Jason Voorhees

Graphis Depictions of Violence, blood, and gore

The heat from the sun bared down onto the lands of Crystal Lake.

Throughout the years, working adults have realized that summer is the shittiest season, often retreating inside to hibernate across their air conditioning. Children and immature undergrad college students were the only ones who took the season in stride. Not because of the heat and sunny days. Because they were on school break.

The representation of summer meant no responsibilities, everlasting fun with friends, and a time to relax. Through Jason's eyes it meant frustration, drugs, and premarital sex. Godless humans who have the audaciousness to enjoy life. Jason will always protect the sanctity of these grounds by sending them to eternal damnation.

A white, beat up Jeep Wrangler hobbled through the woods around 12:30 pm. 5 young adults jumped out of the vehicle, confident and boisterous at 12:36 pm. It was a Friday. The 13th day of the month. Jason observed from afar, using a thick tree to hide his hulking body.

These young adults….looked no different than the ones that usually come here. Same style of boring clothing. Same skin tone. The same rotation of Greek lettering that always confuses him. Whatever they were, they were always obnoxious.

It was currently 12:50 pm as Jason observed his upcoming victims. They were bringing in personal belongings and beer cases, cheering as they did so.

The sun would set around 7:40 pm. Jason would spring into action then.

They drink alcohol in copious amounts. Jason prepares. They peel their clothes off and jump into the lake, bare. He sneaks to set up his traps throughout the woods near the cabin. They have lust in their eyes as they watch and play with one another. The music they play is loud and vulgar.

Some kiss and let their hands wander already. He is in his basement, gathering tools. His hammer, bow and arrow, and his machete. In the cabin, they drink some more. And not only do they drink, but they pull out a white substance to snort and share. He gets his bag and stuff it with what he needs. One couple, too busy to consume the powder, slink into a random room upstairs. They begin to have sex.

Finally, Jason is ready. He decides that the machete will be his first weapon.

In 10 minutes, he approaches the cabin. Jason observes the scene to take in the surroundings. He hears laughing and chatter with a mix of moans as he stands near. The moans catch his attention immediately. It was coming from the window on the second floor, which was slightly open. Using a propped ladder, Jason mysteriously climbs up to the window silently and puts his mask into full view of the couple. The girl inside, crudely riding her temporary lover, glances at the window. Jason quickly moves out of view. She screams, jolting off to the side and alerted the other. The man darts over to the window and opens it to investigate. But he sees nothing.

Jason teleported to one of the front windows downstairs, where the drugged up adults were dancing and leaning about. One sees Jason and points. However, the others only see the unchanging view of the trees. They laugh, telling them to calm down, saying that they were just too high.

Jason slinks to the generator at the back of the cabin and smashes it. This causes the power to go out. It spooks the prey inside who, of course, offers the first sacrifice to investigate. It was the young male lover, shirtless with cargo shorts on. His dirty blonde hair was disheveled and facial expression showed frustration.

It was time for action.

As the frat brat begins to inspect the clearly smashed generator, Jason stomps up to him. The man jolts around at the timed crunch of the branch near his form. Jason revels as his victims’ violet blue eyes bulge in fear.

Jason quickly extends his machete and slash at the man’s mid torso. He staggers back, looking down at the clean slice, his brain not registering that it was there. Blood bubbles out of the first few layers of skin, covering the thin layer of fat that now could not protect his insides. Parts of his small intestine start to peek out of the cut.

Not satisfied, Jason slashes down on the nearest side, extending the cut into an open flap. The large and small intestines ooze out to the side, with the mix of blood and body slime dripping onto the ground. More of the fat extends, yellow as dehydrated urine, as the pressure inside his torso changes pushing the innards forward. It was a mess of what looked like filled sausage casings. The young man groans in extreme pain. He could hardly react to everything that was happening, but he wished for it to be over with. Jason grabs the hanging intestines with his gloved hand and yanks them out. His kidneys the size of enlarged pinto beans, pancreas, and the lower half of his stomach sac come out with the jumbled mess. The force of the yank causes the stomach to pop, leaking stomach acid down onto the other organs, which causes them to burn and corrode.

Satisfied with the brats’ suffering, Jason stalks forward to add another victim to his growing list.

#jason voorhees #slashers #friday the 13th #prompt #tw: graphic depictions of violence

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midnightmare-fics · 1 year

Text

I Promise I'll Save You

Ship: Mungrove (Eddie Munson/Billy Hargrove)

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 4,767

Warnings: DEAD DOVE, graphic descriptions of violence and blood and injuries and vomit, sword-fucking, Vecna/Billy non-con, Vecna uses Billy as a puppet to gain the Shadow Monster's powers, Eddie will stop at nothing to save Billy, established Mungrove, emaciated Billy, victim Billy, savior Eddie, heavy angst/hurt-comfort, happy ending (I PROMISE)

Summary:

Eddie's laid his life on the line for his friends, accepted his fate, and hoped with this he could be reunited with his lost lover. Nothing goes according to plan... Well, mostly nothing. Wandering the Upside Down lost and injured, Eddie finds a (semi) familiar face: Billy, the love of his life. Except Billy looks nothing like himself, he's wasting away as Vecna's puppet, but Eddie doesn't care. He will do anything to save his love.

Events:

@mungroveweek - Day 1, Upside Down

@harringroveson-bingo - Card Three, Prompt B3 - "It's giving me the heebie-jeebies."

@billyhargrovebingo - Card One, Prompt C1 - Sword Fucking

@eddiemunsonbingo - Card One, Prompt B1 - Numb

Link:

#billy hargrove #fanfic #fanfic blog #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #harringroveson bingo #eddie munson #billy hargrove bingo #eddie munson bingo #mungrove week #billy hargrove x eddie munson #eddie munson x billy hargrove #billy x eddie #eddie x billy #billy/eddie #eddie/billy #tw: noncon #tw: graphic content #tw: graphic depictions of violence

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aftgficrec · 7 months

Note

Hey! I love your page and getting fic recs! Do you have any fics where Neil goes or agrees to go to therapy? I’m good with Bee or someone else as the therapist too. It can be canon or an au. Thanks so much! :))

I was pleasantly surprised by how much we found for you! -A

previous recs:

‘another life to live’ here

‘Oakland’ here (completed)

‘you’ve been locked in here forever (and you just can’t say goodbye)’ here (updated)

‘If it means protecting you (I’ll pay my dues)’ here (updated)

‘Interlaced’ here (updated)

‘Regrowth,’ ‘To Be Close With You Is To Be Close With Myself,’ ‘I took a breath and took the knife,’ and ‘flashes of intimacy’ ch 4 here

‘call me in the afternoon’ here

‘The Wild Fox Den’ and ‘Roses Grow Between Bone’ here

‘(My Heart) Pierced By a Pin’ here (completed)

‘The Sun Still Rises’ here (updated)

‘day by day’ here

‘the shuffling of cards’ here

‘Ain’t it fun’ here

‘Breathe, idiot’ here

‘Healing’ series part 1 here, part 3 here (completed)

‘The Fear of Being Known’ here

‘That one party’ series and ‘keep telling me that it gets better (does it ever?)’ here

‘Affection can be shown in so many ways’ here

‘Ghost of You’ here

‘Make This Leap (Geronimo)’ here

‘Tenuous’ here

‘There is Nothing You Can Say’ here (completed)

‘of ice blue eyes & twisted veins’ here

‘don't break the glass’ (completed) here

‘Bad Apple’ here

‘Phantom Pains’ here

‘Therapy’ here

‘Birds of a Feather’ here (updated)

‘In which Neil had Aspergers and Andrew finds out.’ here

‘For You I'd Bleed Myself Dry’ here (updated)

‘I Wanna Get Better’ here

‘on the tip of my tongue (say something)’ parts 6 & 8 here

and more:

‘Ember’ here (completed)

‘leave the room (with a little dignity)’ here

‘Art Hoe’ here

‘Blame It On My Youth’ here (updated)

‘Black as is the Raven, He’ll Get a Partner’ (here)

‘Our body’ series, part 1 here, part 3 here, part 5 here

‘and all the roads will disappear’ here

‘crossed out’ here

‘Double Trouble’ series here

‘i had a dream (where you couldn't hear me screaming)’ and ‘hold me close, in fact bury me’ here

‘Just closed eyes with nothing behind’ here

‘doubt thou the stars be fire’ here

‘SCAR TISSUE’ here

‘Lighter Fluid’ here