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whatifyoulivelikethat · 4 years

Text

calculated ii, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: You pride yourself in being cool, calm, and collected... and then Jeon Jungkook knocks you down a peg. Well, you’re still the head Calculus I TA. The noona. The responsible one. The one who would definitely not misunderstand a situation and then end up fucking in a stairwell... right?

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; intense smut (fem reader, semi-public sex, nipple play, tit slapping, fingering, wall fucking, dirty talk); jealousy; fluff; non-idol!AU - university!AU; dom!Jungkook x sub!noona!reader, ft instigator Jimin again, lol

part i | part ii | part iii | part iv

You weren't a jealous person by nature.

Mostly because you had no tolerance for lying, dishonesty, or deceit. In the off chance an ex cheated on you, you dropped them like hot coal and moved on, easily, without so much as a text. Was that the best way to end a relationship? Definitely not, but you did it anyway.

It got you a notorious reputation, to say the least.

So, why, as you're collecting the latest Calculus I exam and students are rushing down the steps to run to their next class, were you absolutely fuming as you spy Jeon Jungkook, tongue between his teeth, talking to a girl who looked like she was going to pass out from arousal by being in his vicinity? Why was your blood boiling, knuckles turning white as you clutch the obscenely thick stack of paper, your only thought being, I'm going to fail this fucking punk ass bitch, just you fucking wait–

"Do you need help?"

You turned your head sharply, missing Jungkook's teasing gaze as Kim Namjoon held his hands out, giving you a sheepish smile. Namjoon was the head Calculus III TA, but he was helping out today since the other Calculus I TAs couldn't make it.

"No."

Namjoon's smile faltered.

"Last time I let you carry these, you dropped them all."

Namjoon laughed sheepishly. "Ahahaha, yeah that did happen, huh?"

You felt bad for snapping at him. It wasn't Namjoon's fault Jungkook was an asshole. It was not Namjoon's fault Jungkook was looking like a goddamn meal in his untucked black dress shirt, ripped black jeans and heavy black boots, his long dark hair half-pinned back with a wispy curtain of black partly obscuring the right side of his face. Not that you cared. At all. You two fucked one time. One, very hot, very intense, very wild time during Calculus I office hours in this very math department building, a few floors above, just last week.

Did you have dreams about it?

...

You shook your head roughly, breaking out of your thoughts. "Come on. Let's go get some coffee. I'll buy," you said, softening your tone this time, grabbing your bag as you hoisted the stack with one arm. You began to walk out, Namjoon following you with his extra-thick backpack.

"I can help you grade. I have some time before my next class."

You laughed. "You, Kim Namjoon, double Literature and Music major and head TA for Calculus III and Physics II, have time?" you teased, seeing his ears turn red.

He chuckled awkwardly as you two made your way to the vending machines. "Okay, I don't have the most time, maybe an hour, but there's a key, right? I'd like to help," he added cheerfully. "Since you're carrying it all."

You smiled and stopped in front of the vending machine, struggling to grab your wallet from the back pocket of your black skinny jeans. Your hands kept getting caught in the long sleeves of your cream sweater. You frowned, trying to balance everything.

"Need help?" Namjoon asked, seeing your brows furrow. He reached for the stack of exams, but you pulled them away from his grasp.

"No, no, I just can't get my wallet. It's in my back pocket."

"... Uh, I could pa–"

"Namjoon, it's an ass. Just take it out. I won't call the police."

He gave you a hesitant look, but you jerked your head impatiently.

"Fucking do it. You're making it weirder," you muttered.

He shrugged and yanked your black bifold wallet out of your back pocket.

"Whatchu want?" You looked into the lit-up shelves, scanning. "Get me a green tea."

Namjoon opened your wallet to grab some bills. He raised his eyebrows.

"I use the same brand myself."

"What?"

You turned your head to see him snickering, pointing to the condom in your wallet. You rolled your eyes at his immature reaction.

"People get laid; get over it," you remarked coolly, but you were smiling anyway because Namjoon had cute dimples that made you laugh too.

He fed some money into the machine. "You should change it out every once in a while, though. Body heat can cause the latex to break down over time."

"I put it in there last week," you said absentmindedly, watching the green tea and the hot coffee Namjoon ordered plunk down. He raised his eyebrows again, but you gave him a pointed look and turned around, presenting your jean-covered butt.

"Put it back."

"What if I need a condom? Can I have it?" Namjoon sniggered.

"Put it back before I kick your ass," you shot back, turning your head to glare at him. A blur of black rushed past in your peripheral vision. Your eyes flickered to the direction of the movement at the same time Namjoon jammed your wallet in your pocket.

You turned back around, cocking your head into the direction of the offices. Namjoon carried the drinks, laughing behind you.

"That would have been weird if anyone was around," he remarked to the deserted hallway.

You shrugged. "Who hangs around the math department besides nerds like you and me?" you muttered, somewhat bitterly.

"Touché."

"You said you needed a ride," you muttered, watching Park Jimin stretch his legs out. It was already completely dark outside. Jimin always practiced such long hours that you often wondered if he slept. Did he even know what sleep was? The fine arts building was empty besides you two.

"I do!" Jimin protested, going into a split that made your own crotch hurt, at least mentally. "But I have to cool down first. It's important!"

You sighed and slid down to the floor as Jimin did his routine. He hummed along as you stared at the bright lights on the ceiling. Your backpack was in the car. You played with the pink bunny keychain on your keys as you waited.

"How did Jungkook go?" Jimin teased, tone playful.

You scowled in response.

"Ouch, that bad huh?" Jimin's head popped into your vision as he bent over backwards. "Does he have a bent dick or something?"

You rolled your eyes. "He's fine," you mumbled. "Just an asshole."

Jimin sat down, placing the soles of his feet together and pressing on his knees. They went all the way to the floor. You winced as you watched, but he seemed fine.

"What'd he do?"

You twisted your mouth to one side. "Doesn't matter. Don't care."

Jimin looked up. He gave you that look mothers give their children when they know they're lying. You relented, grumbling.

"Flirting around right in front of my face."

Jimin blinked at you. "I thought you guys were just fucking?"

You looked away to the mirror of the dance studio. "... We are just fucking. Did, rather."

"Are you jealous?" Jimin gasped in disbelief, scooting over to you gleefully, forgetting about his cool down. "You are!"

"I am not, Jimin. Shut up."

Jimin giggled. "Wow, one fuck and you're in lo–"

You spun around sharply and clapped a hand over his mouth, glaring at him. Jimin's eyes widened at your sudden reaction, blinking at you. You climbed to your knees, towering over him.

"Shut up, Jimin."

"The fuck is going on?"

The clear, silvery voice thundered across the dance studio practice room. You froze, whipping your head around to see Jungkook, in all-black, his pretty features twisted in rage, glaring at you and Jimin on the hardwood floor.

Fight?

Or flight?

You scrambled to your feet and ran. Straight up bolted, right past Jungkook, not hearing him shout at Jimin, completely forgetting you were supposed to take him home.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Jungkook roared, advancing, shoulders shaking.

"Nothing," Jimin snapped, getting to his feet. "Just like you, apparently. Look how fucking fast she ran from you!"

Jungkook grabbed Jimin's collar, shaking him forcefully. "The fuck are you talking about?" he growled, nearly spitting in Jimin's face. "She doesn't even like me, you idiot."

"You're the idiot," Jimin spat back, shoving him hard in the chest. "She literally just admitted to liking you right in front of me!"

Jungkook froze. "W-what?"

"She just now told me she was jealous because you were chatting up other girls," Jimin hissed, looking at him disdainfully. "I would have never helped you if you were going to treat her like a piece of meat."

Jungkook's face fell, anger crumbling into sudden comprehension. "I-I didn't..."

He turned away from Jimin, dropping his car keys as he chased after you, steps much faster and lighter than your erratic stumbling though the fine arts building, nearly tripping on the stairs. You were running so fast that you were making yourself winded, chest so tight you couldn't even breathe.

Jimin sighed and picked up the fallen car keys.

Jungkook jumped over the stair rail, making you recoil and spin around, running back up the stairs. He took them two at a time, slamming a hand against the wall to cut you off. You turned the other way and he stopped you there too, so you ducked under, trying to run. His strong arms grabbed you by the waist and dragged you back, struggling for dear life, hands clawing at the air.

"Stop, stop," Jungkook was panting, but you started squirming against him instead, flattening your torso to try to slide out. He forcefully grabbed your shoulders and shoved you into the wall. You hissed in pain, seeing stars from your lack of oxygen and panic. He held you there, wheezing, grip so strong it almost hurt, as if he was afraid you would run away again.

You felt wetness on your face. You started, touching your cheek. Tears blurred your vision. Jungkook lifted his head, his long black hair tousled and wild from chasing you and, even now, he was handsome. Even now, he made your heart stop.

And then you realized that he, too, was crying.

"J-Jimin..." Jungkook gasped. "Asked me to d-drive him home..."

You sobbed, trying to blink your tears away. "M-me too..."

Jungkook chuckled wetly despite the situation.

"Hah... that bastard..."

You tried to twist away, but Jungkook pushed you into the wall with his chest.

"D-don't..."

And now you were really crying now, so pathetic, so dumb, so stupid you wanted to crawl into a hole and hide, hide your face and your feelings and pretend they didn't exist.

"Don't..."

Jungkook's deep voice vibrated your torso as you furiously wiped your face with the sleeves of your cream sweater, stuffing your eyes with the fluffy material, trying to press them away.

"Don't cry, noona... I can't take it..."

And then he was kissing you, soft kisses on your tears, dripping his own onto your cheeks, and then your lips were on his, so full, so nice, so right, your arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer. Everything way too fucking wet, but it didn't matter because his tongue was against yours and you were sucking on it, shivering, whimpering his name, trying not to be pitiful, but what were you supposed to do when he made you feel this way, like you wanted to die in his arms right now?

He whispered your name too, so softly, so desperately that you thought it was just a dream, but he had you against the wall, hands sliding up your sweater, onto your skin, so warm, stroking it and pressing his fingers into your waist, so familiar, teeth nipping at your lower lip.

"J-Jungkook..." you choked out. "We're in the middle of the stairway in the fucking f-fine arts building..."

"Don't care," he murmured, unhooking your bra, his dark hair brushing against your face. You gasped as his palms covered your already hard nipples, his moan against your lips. "Have to remind you you're mine."

He kissed your face again, massaging your breasts, resting his cheek against yours, letting you feel his smile. You closed your eyes, trying to even your breathing.

"Hah... I'm so ugly right now," you mumbled, cursing your weakness, frustrated that only a single meeting with Jeon Jungkook could turn you into this. You didn't believe in stars aligning or any of that romantic bullshit. But the instant Jeon Jungkook pressed his body against yours, you fucking knew. You absolutely knew there was no other body for you, no other body you wanted to dream about, no other person you wanted to touch, no one else you wanted but Jeon Jungkook to force you to your knees and make you look at him, pulling on your nipples, whines leaving your throat as he yanked on them, your own hands pushing your sweater and bra up so he could stare at your body and watch how he ruined you, turning your nipples pink with abuse.

Were you crazy? Probably.

Jungkook spread his legs, leaning down, dark hair half-obscuring his face, lips parting.

"So beautiful, noona..." he breathed, swallowing hard. "You're the only one for me."

You scoffed at his words, hastily wiping your eyes. He pulled at your nipples hard, twisting them and making you yelp in pain.

"Look at me when I speak to you," Jungkook commanded, raw and deep. Voice strained from crying, but his eyes remained dark, flint-like, shaded by his long hair. His eyes traveled down your body, to your knees against the floor, to your nipples straining in his fingertips, to your shaking hands holding up your sweater, to your face, your icy glare rippling through your drying tears. He drew in a long breath, making you wait for him.

"There is no one else," he growled firmly above you, staring into your eyes, right at your soul. "Absolutely no one. I don't care if they're ripping off their clothes and throwing themselves at me, I will always pick you over them. I will always want you over them. I will always, always desire you under me above all others."

You chuckled darkly, feeling his grip tighten.

"We fucked once, Jungkook. Once," you muttered bitterly. He pinched your nipples sharply and you sucked in a breath, wetness pooling in your panties.

"Once is enough," he replied firmly. "Once is enough to know there is no other human being on Earth for me."

Maybe you were both crazy.

He yanked your nipples harder this time. Your body jerked in pain, pressing your thighs together to get some relief.

"Get up."

You got up shakily, with his gentle pulls in your nipples, wincing. Jungkook removed his hands and you sighed in relief, only to be silenced as he pushed up the sleeves of his black dress shirt, breathless as you saw his shapely forearms, the right covered in tattoos. He pressed his right forearm against your collarbone and you released your sweater as he held it up.

"Hands on the arm."

You placed your hands on his forearm, one on his wrist and the other just under his elbow.

"Look at me."

Your eyes flickered up at him. Part of his hair covered his right eye. The rest of his forehead was exposed, brows furrowed, brown eyes intensely on you. His chiseled jaw clenched, lips so pink and pretty you wanted them on you. Your chest was completely exposed, your red nipples hard and poking out in the cold air.

Then he slapped your tits with his own palm.

You gasped sharply, skin stinging, nails digging into his skin. The sound rang in the empty staircase. Your knees shook, panties wetter than before.

"Who is he?"

You swallowed, blinking rapidly. Your nipples prickled with pain but all you could think about was wanting more. "Who?" you croaked.

He smacked you again, right on the other nipple, and you bit your tongue, head pushing into the wall behind you, hissing. Fuck. He wasn't hitting you very hard, but he had a huge palm, expanding the surface area of the sting.

"The guy who touched your ass without my permission," Jungkook snarled, flicking your nipple hard.

Your eyelids fluttered, knees buckling. Fuck. So good. You clutched into Jungkook's arm, panting. His arm was like iron, unmoving.

"Namjoon?" you replied, confused. "H-he was just getting my wallet."

Jungkook narrowed his eyes. Then he raised an eyebrow and his hand, slowly spanking your tits, making sure to hit your swollen, aching nipples each time, getting you wetter and wetter with each slap.

"He wants to fuck you," Jungkook hissed into your face.

You were moaning far too loud, rubbing your knees together, your soaked panties bunching up in your jeans as Jungkook continued, his nails gazing your flesh, leaving red marks and pink skin in his wake.

"B-but I don't want to fuck h-him..." you managed to get out in between your moans.

Jungkook pressed his palm flat against one of your breasts and rubbed hard. Your eyes rolled back in your head, nipple throbbing with pain as he forced it around and around.

"Really?" he sneered, putting his face close to yours as he released your breast and moved to the other, placing his nail on it, scratching lightly. Your hips bucked and a desperate whimper fell from your lips. "Who do you want to fuck then?"

Your eyes locked with his, his impossibly dark, reigning eyes.

"Only you."

He pinched your nipple, hard. You wailed, almost falling, but he held you firm.

"Say my name."

So deep. So in control.

"Only you, Jungkook."

He dropped his right arm and roughly pinched both your nipples, silencing your scream with a suffocating kiss, his clothed chest ramming into your torso. You groaned into his mouth as the rough fabric of his dress shirt touched your sensitive nipples, whimpering as he removed his hands to hold yours. Held them tight as he shoved his tongue into your mouth, thrusting into it, fucking it as if it was his cock. You took it all, fingers intertwining with his, whole body shivering.

He pulled your hands up to his chest, breaking apart for a second.

"Take it off," he panted impatiently. "Need your skin on mine."

You fumbled with the tiny buttons, far too small with how hazy your head was right now. You were rapidly losing your temper, finally just shoving your fingers into the placket and ripping it apart, causing the black buttons to fling everywhere. You pushed the sides of the dress shirt aside, sucking in a breath seeing his toned chest and abs, wrapping your arms around his waist and pulling him to you, pressing his hot skin against yours, moaning as your abused nipples touched his chest. Jungkook was chuckling, looking at the fallen buttons.

“Are you going to pick those up later?” he asked, amused.

“No,” you snapped.

“Someone will know.”

“You obviously don’t care.”

Jungkook laughed, rumbling and sexy and so very wonderful. “I most certainly do not.”

He let you press your cheek against his collarbones, hands splayed on his back. Tracing his muscles, chest heaving from too many emotions and too much running. You ran your nails down his back. His breathing hitched and he placed a large hand on your head.

“Were you jealous?” he purred, petting your hair. “Because I was talking to that girl after class? Is that why you ran off with that Namjoon guy? To make me jealous too?”

“No,” was your haughty, tight reply.

He hummed. “Really?”

His hand slid down, down your shoulder and to your bare skin. He dug his nails into the small of your back, raking them up. You whimpered, clinging to him tighter. His head dipped low against your ear, voice dropping several octaves.

“Because I was very, very jealous,” Jungkook growled, teeth snapping, every word rousing your lust. “All I could think about all day was how to punish you. My beautiful, slutty noona.”

You sunk your nails into his back, snarling right back.

“It’s your own fault for being so fucking hot that every single person who encounters you has a full-blown orgasm every time they see you, you punk ass bitch.”

You didn’t have to see his face to know he was grinning. “You didn’t. You told me to leave.”

“You didn’t know what was going on in my pants,” you shot back.

“I found out, didn’t I?”

Was it possible to want to choke someone while also wanting to be choked by them? Because that’s how you felt right now, listening to Jeon Jungkook’s stupid, sexy, smug voice in your ear.

“Shut up.”

You felt Jungkook’s body stiffen. Slowly, slowly, he backed up, out of your grasp, his hands leaving your back. You frowned, narrowing your eyes. There was a darkness in his, glaring down at you through his lashes. His lips were slightly parted, no longer smiling. You didn’t waver. His hand came up and took your chin, grip tightening into your cheeks until it was uncomfortable, tipping your head back into the wall. Lips hovering over yours, so close that he could kiss you, but he wasn’t doing it.

“Okay.”

The affirmation made your blood run cold with his unforgiving tone. He placed his lips on yours, but instead of kissing you, he breathed into your mouth, a hot, erotic stream right into the back of your throat, forcing yours back, making you inhale him. You moaned softly, but he retreated just as fast, hooking one arm around you, arching your back forcefully.

“J-Jungkook, what–”

Then he latched his lips onto one of your nipples, flicking it with his tongue, his hand around you rubbing the other as the other gripped the button of your jeans, popping it open. You cried out, hitting your head on the wall, bruising yourself as he yanked the zipper down, shoving his hand under your panties into your tight-jeans. Your nipples for far too sensitive to take more pain and yet Jungkook gave it to you, sucking and rubbing them simultaneously as he shoved one, two fingers into your slopping wet pussy, your moans echoing in the stairway as you stared up, head throbbing. Shocks of pain and pleasure traveled throughout your body, and still he shoved a third finger into you. Your body jerked, trying to spread your legs to accommodate him but your jeans were too tight and he was fucking you too hard, each thrust raising you to your tiptoes. He didn’t even have to stimulate your nipples anymore – they were just rubbing against his teeth and hand by the sheer force of him fingering you.

“A-ah, J-Jungkook, please…” you groaned, grinding into his hand, biting your lower lip hard to try and be a little quieter. “P-please, it’s t-too much...”

His eyes flickered up to you, glaring. You told me to shut up, they said.

“I’m s-sorry…” you panted out, gritting your teeth. “P-please…”

Jungkook detached his mouth, curling his lip. Hand leaving your nipple, tangling into your hair. “Are you really sorry, noona?” he drawled, yanking your head back and exposing your neck. “Are you?”

You whimpered, nodding tightly, his hand still in your hair, forcing you to tug on your own.

“Y-yes, Jungkook,” you breathed, feeling him release your hair. “I’m sorry…”

He smiled at you, an icy smile.

“That’s good.”

You felt him yank your pants down with his free hand, shoving them down to your knees. You almost tripped, but Jungkook grabbed your ass, fingertips digging into you so hard you were sure they would leave marks. He yanked you up, shoving a knee between yours and forcing your legs open. Your eyes went wide, his three fingers flexing inside you. His dark eyes boring into yours, a slow smirk forming on his lips.

“I’m still going to put another finger in you.”

He shoved a fourth into you, forcefully, and now nearly his entire hand was fucking you, pounding you into the wall. Your arms flew up to wrap around his shoulders, desperately holding on as he filled you, pushing his fingers against your walls. You gasped, clenching around his fingers, and Jungkook grinned, watching your face as he pushed you to the edge, feeling so stretched out, so embarrassingly wet that the sounds of your pussy were louder than your noises.

“Fuck, your pussy sounds so sexy,” Jungkook groaned. “Listen to that dirty pussy suck in my fingers, so fucking desperate for my cock.”

You shoved your head against the wall and squeezed your eyes shut, legs straining as you came, muscles spasming and the moan of his name racking through you, your throat already hoarse. He ripped his hand out of you and slapped your clit. Your knees buckled and you whined loudly as he gripped your ass with one wet and one dry hand, spreading it forcefully, pressing you against the wall.

“Take one leg out of your jeans,” Jungkook snarled.

You winced, pussy throbbing, giving him a what-the-fuck look.

“Do it.” He was not going to repeat himself.

You awkwardly kicked one of your sneakers off, untangling your right leg out of your pants. Now you were mostly naked in the fucking stairway with an almost shirtless Jungkook towering over you. Your poor sock fluttered to the floor, lost due to the tight ankle of your skinny jeans.

Jungkook grabbed your calf and pushed it up and out, effectively forcing you to stand on one leg.

“Jungkook, what–”

He hissed, staring at your glistening, puffy, red pussy lips, your hole opening and closing from the aftershocks of your orgasm.

“Fuck,” he muttered. “Fuck.”

Jungkook leaned you back into the wall, snaking his hand between your legs, moaning with you as he touched your swollen clit. Slow, languid, deliberate, rubbing your clit in circles, melting you, your eyelids fluttering closed at his sudden sweet movements.

“Wanna fuck you just like this,” Jungkook breathed, inhaling your scent. “Just like this, against the wall, in this fucking stairway, your leg around my waist.” He pressed harder, earning a wretched whimper. “Want someone to find us and see you bouncing on my cock, fucked out and screaming my name.”

Your legs trembled, trying to close, but he held them open, teasing you, drawing your next orgasm out of you, slow this time, building you into a frenzy.

“Just do it,” you gasped. “Just fucking do it.”

“I want to,” he hissed back, rubbing faster. “I didn’t bring a fucking condom.”

You chuckled despite yourself, hips shuddering into his hand. “Didn’t think you were going to fuck Jimin or something?”

Jungkook narrowed his eyes at you and pinched your clit. Instantly you yelped, your standing knee buckling, but his own slammed against yours, locking it in place. You gasped at the pain, your pussy clenching around nothing as he furiously rubbed your clit. Your insides curled and you gulped for air, feeling the pain and pleasure rise into a crescendo.

“What if I stop, noona?” Jungkook barked sharply. “Since you’re being such a fucking brat.”

You clenched your jaw, trying to push back your own orgasm, relishing in his anger.

“I have a condom,” you panted, giving him an open-mouthed smirk. “Keep one in my wallet now, j-just for you, Jungkook.”

You saw something in his eyes change, something between an amused sparkle and an agonizing lust.

“Is that so?” Jungkook purred, bringing his face close to yours. His breath lit your skin on fire, the tense knot closing in on you fast as he rubbed you even faster, so fast that it felt like a vibrator on your aching clit. “So, you can always be prepared for me? So, I can take you wherever, whenever I want?”

You bit your lip, nodding, eyes glazing over as the first wave crashed on you.

“Fuck yeeeeees, Jungkook, whatever you fucking want,” you moaned, back arching, legs shuddering, letting him rub you as your hips jerked. Viscous liquid dripping down your thighs, pussy pulsating wetly, hands flat against the wall. He was going to be the death of you, making you agree to such crazy things in the middle of your fucking orgasm.

Jungkook let go of your leg. You leaned against the wall, trying to catch your breath, pretty sure all this was going to get you expelled. Even if there was no one in the building, someone down the street probably heard you by now with how loud this was becoming. You heard rustling under you, Jungkook going through your pockets on the floor to find your wallet, pulling out the condom.

“You’re actually insane,” you panted, blinking slowly as you watched Jungkook unzip his jeans, shoving them down. “I can’t even stand.”

Fuck, even just him pulling out his half-hard cock was already getting you wet again. Jungkook smirked at you, seeing your eyes on him. He stroked the length slowly, running his large hand over it. You frowned at him, tapping your hand against the wall in annoyance.

“I’m giving you a break,” he murmured, staring at your body as he gripped his cock, pumping once. He gasped, breathing your name.

“At least let me touch it,” you pouted, not even sure how you were still upright. Just pure lust, apparently.

Jungkook looked at you through his lashes, lips parting, tongue darting between them. He thrust his hips into his hand. You stiffened, seeing his wanton, arrogant expression. He wasn’t going to let you touch it. He was going to make you watch, frustrated, as he stroked himself to full hardness.

“Jungkook…”

He cocked an eyebrow at you, rolling his body into his hand, moaning softly.

“Jungkook, please…”

His tongue danced between his lips, moving his hand up and down slowly, rocking his hips into his cock, enjoying your pleading tone, your hands clenching into fists, your body heaving at the loss of him.

“Jungkook, come on,” you whined, spreading your legs, watching the angry red head disappear and reappear in the curve of his fingers. “I want you. Please.”

He took a step towards you, still stroking himself. “Yeah?” he breathed. Another step. And another. He still didn’t tell you that you could touch him yet, so you kept your hands at your sides, switching between his dark, lustful eyes and his rapidly hardening cock thrusting into his hand. “You want me, noona? You want to touch my cock?”

And now Jungkook was right next to you, still jacking himself off, the velvety, thick head rubbing against the smooth skin of your thigh. You moaned as you felt his pre-cum smearing onto your skin, adding to his lubrication.

“Y-yes,” you whispered, eyes glued to his cock rubbing against your fucking leg. Fuck, you wanted it in your mouth so bad. “Let me touch you, Jungkook.”

He leaned forward, lips brushing against your ear, his dark locks brushing against your cheek. His voice was a deep drawl, low and teasing, breath hot against your skin.

“Tell you what,” Jungkook purred. “I’ll let you put the condom on.” You whimpered, disappointed. “And then I’ll fuck you against this wall, nice and hard and fast, not stopping until I cum because of that delicious, sweet, tight pussy of yours.”

If you had any sanity left, it rapidly disappeared as you nodded hastily, wordlessly holding out your hands as Jungkook dropped the condom in your palm. He calmly removed his hand, his thick, fully hard cock erect as you slid the condom down, moaning as you felt the traces of his veins and muscle pulsing under your hands. Once you were done, Jungkook pushed your hands away, not giving you a chance to disobey him.

You pouted. “You’re a jerk.”

He grinned at you, lifting your leg and pinning it to your chest. “And you’re about to get fucked.”

In less than a second, Jungkook thrust his hips up and into you, tearing a gasp from your throat as he rapidly entered you, peeling apart your soaking, abused walls. You bit your tongue, grabbing his dress shirt as he rolled his hips into you again, groaning as he felt you clench around him.

“That’s it, noona,” he exhaled, slamming his hips into you. “You better fucking hold me tight. If I slip out, that’s all the fucking you’ll get from me.”

You whined, feeling him start a bruising pace, hands clamped onto your ass. Whether he was lying or not didn’t matter because you were squeezing your pussy for dear life, crying out as he thrust into you over and over, so full and overstimulated you didn’t know whether to focus on your aching, raw pussy or his cock periodically throbbing inside you, swelling against your walls.

You hooked your leg around his waist, changing the angle, instantly feeling him ram his cock into a deeper, more pleasurable spot. You tipped your head back, eyes rolling up into your head as your mouth opened, tongue sliding out. He pounded you relentlessly, your shoulder blades smacking the wall. Your swollen clit rubbed against the base of his cock repeatedly. Your body was going to ache all over tomorrow, but you still rose your hips to meet his, so drunk on the feeling of his cock stretching you out that nothing else mattered. You came suddenly, wailing Jungkook’s name, pussy spasming and squeezing him but he set his jaw and fucked you even harder, using every ounce of his energy to keep his own orgasm at bay.

“Who owns this body, noona?” he ground out. “Tell me, who owns this fucking body?”

You had to claw for your words, throat so strained your voice was thin. “Y-you do, Jungkook, oh fuck, oh fuck…”

“That’s fucking right,” he growled. “If you cum, it’s for me and only me. No. One. Else.” He punctuated each word by slapping his hips into you, sliding you up into the wall so gravity crashed you back down onto his cock. You moaned, helpless, as he hissed, shoving his face into your tits to moan hotly into your chest as he came, violent, thick jerks of his cock shuddering into you. Quickly, he gripped your hips and pulled up, hissing as half of his cock slid out, cum leaking out of the bottom of the condom and splatting onto the floor.

“Fuck,” he gasped. “Fuck.”

You could barely register anything as he hoisted you onto his shoulder, cursing loudly. Jungkook leaned against the wall with one shoulder, panting, the other half-carrying you, arm wrapped around your waist. The only thing that brought you back to reality was the fact that your bare ass was in the air and your pants were hanging off one leg.

“Jungkook,” you croaked. “Let me down.”

He lowered you, still leaning against the wall, trying to catch his breath. His hair covered almost his whole face, sweaty and glistening. He wiped some sweat off his chin with the back of his hand, flicking it away carelessly.

You pressed your back flat against the wall, using at as leverage to pull your pants back up, wincing at the now familiar cold feeling of your soaked panties meeting your abused pussy. You crouched to collect your sock and your shoe, wincing as pain radiated up your back.

Jungkook chuckled, watching you struggle with your sneaker. “Want help?”

You grunted, shoving it on. “Can we stop fucking in random ass places at school?”

“You said I could fuck you wherever I want, whenever I want,” he teased, giving you an open-mouthed smirk.

You readjusted your bra, putting it back on. You found the two bits of condom wrapping, shoving it in your pocket. “I did, but I want to see you fully naked for once, you punk.”

Jungkook laughed, rich and full. “I support this idea if you’re also fully naked.”

You made a face as you got up, trying to keep your steps steady so you didn’t seem like a drunk idiot. Or someone who just got railed by Jeon Jungkook.

“Give me the condom.”

Jungkook raised an eyebrow. “I was going to drop it here. Mark my territory.”

You narrowed your eyes at him and took it from him as he extended his hand out. “Your buttons did that for you already,” you remarked, tying it up.

He smirked, zipping up his jeans. “You owe me a new shirt.”

“And you owe me new panties, again,” you shot back. “Where are my replacements?”

He shrugged, running a hand through his hair to push it back. Fuck. Open shirt, half-exposed forehead, smug-as-fuck Jungkook got you wet just by looking at him.

“Guess we should go shopping sometime.”

He smiled slyly, patting his pockets. His expression abruptly changed to confusion. He pulled out his wallet and phone, frowning. “Where are my car keys?” He furrowed his brow, looking at his phone. You found your keys and wallet still with you, surprised that they didn’t fall out of your pants. You phone was in your backpack, still in your car. He swiped at his phone, reading his messages.

Jungkook groaned. “I dropped them and Jimin took my car. Bastard.”

Fuck, his fucking deliciously toned and tan chest was distracting you. “I still have my keys,” you muttered, staring at his abs. Suddenly you started, realizing he was advancing on you.

“Oh?” Jungkook purred, opening his shirt wider. The fabric tumbled off his right shoulder, exposing his tattoos. His long dark hair covered part of his right eye, brown orbs glimmering with mischief.

“Wanna take me home, noona?”

Welp.

part iii

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #bts smut #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x you #jungkook fanfic

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mourntheantagonist · 3 years

Text

billy has asthma

he was diagnosed with it when he was just eight years old after having a severe attack at school during p.e. and neil thought the whole thing was just an attention grab. always telling him to suck it up after a game of baseball when he was gasping for air. reaching for his inhaler only for neil to knock it out of his hands and call him a pussy. “just breathe you big baby!”

the only reason he even had an inhaler was because his mother would be the one to go down and refill his prescription. but when she was gone, there was nothing he could do. neil wouldn’t pay for it and he didn’t have the money. so he just had to deal. which is hard when the same father who won’t buy you your means for breathing also was the one forcing you to play high intensity sports.

he learned to work around it as best he could. going from an outdoor sport like baseball and soccer to an indoor sport like basketball. cold weather always aggravating it more. he was lucky enough to play center, which meant less running back and forth down the court.

smoking somehow made attacks less frequent. years of training his airway to endure smoke inhalation, it didn’t feel better, but constant uncomfort in his lungs made the symptoms something he was able to get used to. the problem arose though that when he did get an attack, it was ten times worse than what he used to have.

his airway felt like it was entirely restricted. it would burn and he could barely even get a wheezing sound to escape. all he could do in those moments was stand with his hands on his head, shut his eyes, and just pray that it went away before it killed him.

there was a time that it nearly did. it was only shortly before they would move off to hawkins when it hit him suddenly with no trigger to cause it. those were the ones that freaked him out the most and had him tossing himself around his room in a panic as he gasped for air. completely in a daze as he felt the effects of a lack of oxygen start to his him and his vision blurred and he became surprisingly calm. tears filling his eyes as his chest felt compressed by a fifty pound weight and his lungs felt like they were on fire.

he can’t remember much of what happened, other than the bright red piece of plastic being waved in his face that he somehow recognized to be an inhaler saved his life. he only pieced it together when he woke up in his bed with max sitting next to him with her hand on his chest. monitoring him as he slept, feeling the rise and fall and making sure he didn’t stop breathing. she just handed the inhaler to him and said she would tell her mom she lost hers and would need a new one.

he savored it for as longs as he could. keeping close track of the number on the back as it ticked down from the 130 remaining puffs to the low digit that it was at now.

now being a playoff game that billy has admittedly been over exerting himself with. their backup center was out with an injury so billy was playing double the time and he was starting to feel his airway tightening and his breath cold in his throat. coughing up a storm but he just kept on pushing and pushing.

until he’s coughing up blood into the pit of his elbow and he’s getting lightheaded. he’s stumbling across the court and eventually he hears a whistle blow and he’s about ready to collapse.

“hit the lockers hargrove. drink some water you’re done.” billy wants to protest but he’s not even sure he could get a word out if he tried. “harrington, go with him and make sure he doesn’t die.”

steve had rolled his ankle halfway through the game so he was also out. so now you had a limping steve supporting a breathless billy on his shoulder all the way to the locker room.

somehow steve knew exactly what to do. billy was sitting on the bench with his hands up over his head, opening up his chest as steve began turning the showers on to the hottest setting, letting the steam fill the room.

“do you have an inhaler?”

billy nods. it’s getting worse and he can feel the familiar fire in his lungs. he’s fighting hard to keep the tears out of his eyes but he can only hope the hot steam hitting his face can mask the falling drops from his lashes.

“where is your stuff?”

billy can’t answer. his breath literally caught in his throat.

“billy you gotta talk to me buddy.”

he can’t. he tries but all that comes out is a wheeze. he just frantically points to the locker across the room and hopes steve can see where he’s pointing to.

steve practically sprints the ten foot distance over to the locker and pulls the duffel out from inside. chaotically sifting through the contents of the bag until he finds the plastic encasing. running back to billy and putting it into his hands. billy quickly brings it to his mouth, pushes down...

and there’s nothing.

just a pathetic puff of air and it barely helps at all. the counter is at zero and all billy can do is chuck the canister across the floor and shut his eyes and say the little prayer he’s said many times before.

steve’s hands find his shoulders and ground him back to the reality he was starting to escape from.

“billy I need you to relax, okay? focus on trying to breathe. it’ll pass just stay calm for me.”

billy takes in a shaky and wheezy breath. it’s not great, but it’s something.

“keep doing that okay? slow and steady, you’ve got it.”

steve’s hands found their way to his cheeks. he was looking right at billy who had his eyes shut with and uncontrollable stream of tears escaping past closed lids. he knew steve was only doing it to straighten his neck and open his airway, but it felt tender. and it helped in more ways than opening his airway.

it made him feel safe in a way. made him feel like all those times when his mom would do the same for him as a kid. walk him all the way through the attack, holding his hand and securing him.

his breathing started to become clearer and the coughing was less frequent.

“that’s it. I’m gonna go get you some water. I’ll be right back.”

“don’t.” billy grabs steve by the wrist. his voice is broken and raspy. “stay.”

steve just looks down at him and kneels right back down in front of him. taking his hands into his own now that they’ve found their way to billy’s lap. gently rubbing circles into his palms as he can feel billy’s breath become increasingly more even. “okay.”

billy just cries. doesn’t care about how pathetic he looks in front of steve because he’s not in any state to be holding his breath. and steve is nothing but kind. kind to the same guy who was anything but kind to him. wiping away at his tears and talking him down from his combined asthma and panic attack. and he didn’t leave.

hugging him loosely enough to where he could still breathe but tightly enough he felt safe and secure until the final buzzer echoed and the locker room filled with the rest of the team.

and when it was all over, he didn’t tell anybody.

instead billy found an inhaler in his locker the following week attached to a note.

“I saw max’s name printed on the label and she told me. tell me when you run out and I’ll refill it for you. don’t fucking die on me dude.”

- steve

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #stranger things #fanfic #mandi writes tresh #I know there’s a lot of inaccuracies shhhh #let me have this

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13thbaronzemo · 3 years

Text

Baron Helmut Zemo/F!Reader

Rating E (Explicit)

Every day, at dinner time, you stumble over your feet on your way to serve the prisoners their meals. Well, there's only one prisoner you are in a hurry to serve: Baron Helmut Zemo.

He'd been brought to the Raft by the Dora Milaje of Wakanda themselves a fortnight ago and, ever since he greeted you with grateful eyes behind the bulletproof glass during his first dinner as a prisoner, you've been looking forward to seeing him again.

You weren't sure what to make of the man at first, the history and myths of him having reached your ears before he did. He has taken down the Earth's protectors through perseverance and planning alone. He had blue blood but still bled like the rest of the human race. Indeed, the baron was a fairy story you'd hear spoken of with fear, reverence, or both. While you had two more years to be stuck in here, you knew that the memories you were making with him would always stick with you. And, while he may be trapped behind bulletproof glass, you could never be able to escape Helmut Zemo's eyes.

Tonight was no different, or so you thought. As you rolled the trolley with a single tray still on it - his tray - towards its final destination. The food smelled good, but it always did. The baron did not only get his own separate, walled-off section to serve his sentence but his menu. He lived as luxuriously as a high-security prison would permit. Your mouth watered and your stomach fluttered at the thought of him letting you lick his fingers clean of the delicious treats. It was only a night ago that he had invited you to share his meal before and stuck his hand out through the narrow opening and fed you himself. You savored the treats, as the sounds he made as you suckled his skin.

"Good evening, Baron,” you greeted him trying not to sound too giddy. There were cameras and microphones everywhere safe for a few blind spots that you took advantage of to indulge in his touch and taste. Even so, you could never be too careful.

“Good evening, my dear,” he stood up, that signature smirk already spread across his face. “Always a sight for sore eyes,” he said to you once again, but you don’t believe you’d ever get tired of hearing it or seeing him devour you with his eyes before you even slide the dinner tray through the opening in the otherwise sealed door. “I see we have Turkish delight and cherry blossom tea for dessert tonight.” Then, taking the tray, he brushed his fingers against yours and winked.

Leaning against the glass on one side as he rested against the bars on the other, you listened to him talk about the latest show he caught on his retro radio. The tale of the French sailors lost at sea and forsaking their humanity was riveting. Yet again, he could’ve been describing the mind-numbing dishwashing you would be doing later for all you cared. You were sure that his deep, decadent voice would make it sound exciting.

While returning the tray with a handful of Turkish delights left for you to treat yourself with, he asked: “What time is it?” When you answered that it was nearly 7 PM, he wrapped both of his hands around your wrist and whispered: “Thank you for dinner, my dear.” Then, as his grip on you got tighter, you blinked and the blue of his uniform turned red.

There had been a security breach.

Monochrome emergency lights were turned on, the alarm blared and half your arm was pulled inside the cell when the opening closed down on it, bruising your flesh and causing you to scream like a siren.

“Look at me,” he started screaming himself. “Look at me, my dear.” And, when through welling eyes you did look up at him from where you keeled over in pain. “Open the door.”

“What? Why? How H-how did you do this?”

“If you don’t use your security card to open this door, none of us will be free of it,” the baron bellowed out, his hold on your hand not letting up and neither did the latch that landed on top of your arm.

With your free and trembling hand, you slapped the security card against the side of the door and felt him free you as it slid open. While you were on the floor nursing your injured arm by curling around it, he snatched the card from your fidgeting fingers before he helped you up. His strong, solid arms slipped under your knees and around your shoulders as he carried you down the corridor under tens of EXIT signs.

“I’m sorry for your arm, but it had to be done,” he panted as his pace got faster with each cell he passed. Through the blare of the alarms and the pulse of your pain, you heard the other inmates bang against their bulletproof glass. You couldn’t think straight, could barely make anything out except for the sound of his voice and the taste of your salty tears.

You asked him, sobbing: “W-why?”

He answered, wheezing: “Do you remember the countess that visited me the other day?”

“Val?”

“Valentina Allegra de Fontaine, yes. Wrap your good arm around my neck, please.” As you did so, he let go of you to use the card on a door and exit the corridor. “She said she had a ride waiting for me today at 7 PM and all I needed was to make it there on time.” Blinking your tears away and pushing down the hurt of betrayal and the pain he had caused, you looked up at him and saw the same hungry eyes under a dangerous red light. “They trained you to head to the emergency escape pods, but you’re as much of a prisoner here as I am, aren’t you?”

Picking up the pace again, Baron Zemo sounded more like the fairy tales you’ve heard of him as he talked about the plan he came up with to reach a pod and pilot it to the surface where the counties had an aircraft ready to pick him and the vessel up. He sounded more and more like the sinister man you’ve been warned not to warm up to. But, as he breathed heavily and brought you back on your feet, he asked you, his voice dark and deep: “When was the last time you’ve seen the surface world, my dear? You said you were coming up on your third year working here. Three whole years without the sun or the moon. Come with me and we’ll count all the stars you’ve missed out on.”

Your knees were weak as he whispered in your ear, his arms still wound around you as your good one hung off of his shoulder. Your heart was weaker as you whined that you did wish to see the sky again and all the colors of the sunset. Waiting two more years when escape was so close seemed impossible, so you let him pick you up again and carry you into the craft.

Using the security card, he ushered you inside. Noting that there was only room for one passenger, the pilot, he sat you on his lap, your spine against his sternum before he locked the two of you inside and prepared for launch.

Again, as you watched him secure both of you in the seat and steer the pod as if he’s done it a dozen times before, you thought that you were witnessing the myth that is Baron Zemo. Then, as you felt his hot breath in your ear, you were reminded that he was only a man. A man who hasn’t experienced skin-on-skin contact for a fortnight. After setting the coordinates for the nearest coast, you used your healthy arms to reach for the drinkable water every escape pod came with. It was getting hot in that cramped craft and it wasn’t just the lack of each oxygen for two individuals.

“It is getting hot in here,” he confirmed your suspicions while blowing more hot air against the side of your neck. “Mind if I take the shirt off?”

Of course, you didn’t mind, you were thinking of doing the same thing. It was that hot and the promise of his perspired skin sticking against yours was sweet. However, when he reached for the hem of your work shirt, you realized he never mentioned which one he would be taking off. When the tips of his fingers traced your bare skin as he scrunched up your shirt, you sighed and arched your back against his spine. He was slow and careful with the sleeve of your injured arm and, after setting your shirt on the board of the ship, you felt his lips latched onto the back of your hand. “I truly am sorry for trapping you with me.”

“It’s like you said, baron. I was already trapped.”

The baron brought his lips to the back of your hand again for an even hotter kiss. “You’ve set us both free.” Letting his hand go, he reached for the shoulder and the bra strap there. “Now, I can finally see you and not just through a wall of glass.” Sliding it off, he let his lips linger there and both his hands slid the cups down and let your breasts spill out. He hurried to push them up with the palm of his hands and twist the tender tips between his fingers. “I can finally feel you.”

While the pinching of your nipples was almost painful, the sounds you made spoke of the pleasure that spread through you. You pushed against his palm and moaned as he manhandled you, squeezing down on the sensitive flesh and biting down at your tender throat. You couldn’t see the hunger in his eyes anymore, but you knew that he was famished.

“I’ve dreamt of this,” he sighed against the shell of your ear, smoothing his hands down your stomach. “I’ve stayed awake just think about this, about how you’d taste.” One hand, he pushed into your pants while the other he pressed against your lips. “About how sweet your saliva tastes after you drooled all over my fingers.” Then, sinking his fingers between both sets of wet and hungry lips he said: “I’ve dreamt of nothing but how sweet your pussy would taste coming all over my fingers.”

You sucked him in, both sets of fingers in both holes. Your mouth was watering and your cunt was slippery as he slid inside. It was almost as if you'd also been dreaming about this. He took note of this, your trepidation, and snickered: “Have you been touching yourself to the thought of this, of me taking you like this?” As your cunt contracted and your mouth moaned around him, he groaned, and his entrapped erection grew under you. “You have, haven’t you? I’ll tell you a secret,” he bit down your lobe before licking it better. “I’ve been touching myself, too.”

Before he breathed another dirty secret into your ear, you fucking yourself against his fingers and slobbering all over his other fingers. “Touch me,” you pleaded when he pulled them out of your mouth.

“I’ll do more than touch you, my dear,” the baron brought both of his hands to your pants and pushed them down far enough for you to slide them off all the way using your feet. Then, as he spread your thigh wide and bent your knees against the board, his fingers fidgeted with his fly. “I’m going to fuck you like we’ve always dreamed.”

Wet and wanting, you widened the gap between your thighs to allow him to cram his thick and throbbing cock inside you. You stopped breathing when he lifted you off his lap and guided his girth inside, then letting you sit back down as he slid home. Your lungs hurt when you heaved, finally full of him. With his chest rumbling against your back and his mouth moving against your throat, he grunted: “My sweet girl.”

“Baron-”

“You’re just as tasty as I thought you'd be and even tighter,” he muffled his words against your sweaty skin as he lifted you again and let you slide back down again, lubricating his dick and stimulating your sensitive inner walls. “You’re so tight, you’re never letting me go are you?” He chuckled, his voice the deepest it's ever been. “I’m not letting you go either. Such a sweet little pussy. Once we reach the surface, once the countess finds us, I’m going to make her fly us into the horizon.”

“Oh, Baron.”

“My dear sweet girl, I’m never letting you go!”

#Baron Zemo #Helmut Zemo #Marvel #Baron Zemo x Reader #Baron Zemo x You #Helmut Zemo x Reader #Helmut Zemo x You #TFatWS

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thicctails · 3 years

Text

Summer Of Whump Day 26 [Asphyxiation/Drugging]

Three more to go!

The warning came too late.

Omega had been moving as fast as she could, worry clouding her mind as she limped and stumbled her way through the shipyard. Cal held her hand the whole time, supporting her when she came close to falling. His own Force signature buzzed with nervous apprehension, and he kept glancing up at the sky, like he expected a fleet of Imperial ships to come out of hyperspace right in front of them.

The sun was halfway over the horizon, its pale glow bleeding into the sky and turning the night into a muted pinkish-yellow backed by a sea of dark blue. The light would wake the sleeping clones they’d left on the Jedi cruiser, and she was not looking forward to the lecture they were likely in for when they got back. Perhaps their warning of approaching danger would distract them long enough to forget about her and Cal’s little escapade.

They were just over halfway back to the ship when the ground began to creak.

The two children stopped in their tracks, looking down at the smooth metal they were standing on. They stood there for a moment, unmoving. When nothing happened, they started to move again, slower this time. The metal groaned, and Omega gasped when she felt that warning buzz explode into the back of her mind. Suddenly, the ground beneath them gave way, sending the startled kids plummeting downwards.

Omega screamed, arms flailing out as if to search the air for some sort of purchase. The feeling of dropping into nothingness made her stomach flip and her heart lodge itself in her throat, almost choking her cries of terror. Cal was still gripping her hand, his hold tightened to the point of painfulness by his own fear. She could feel his terror through the bond, and it only served to increase her already thundering heartbeat. She squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting to see the ground rushing up to meet her.

Suddenly, she hit something, the force of her impact wrenching Cal away from her. He fell for a short while more, before she heard him hit something as well. Smooth rubber rubbed against her, coiling around her limbs and wrapping around her torso. The serpentine object snapped taunt, and Omega wheezed when she felt a pressure form around her neck and chest. She tried to wiggle free, but that only made the tightness increase, further cutting off her air supply. Panicking, she managed to get an arm free, and she pulled what felt like a thick wire away from her neck. She couldn’t hold it for long, but it allowed her to take in a few desperate gulps of air before her strength gave out.

Her leg was screaming in agony, the wires pressing into her injuries. Her neck and back were also aching, though the pain was far less. The Force around her crackled with worry, whispering soothing words that she couldn’t quite understand. It urged her to summon it, to use the power she’d been created to wield to save herself. Gritting her teeth, she listened to the quiet whispers, reaching out and gripping the wire around her neck. The Force guided her movements, and she focused her remaining energy on breaking the wire. The power came to her easily, and the wire tore in half with a whip-like snap.

Air rushed into her lungs, and Omega collapsed in exhaustion, sagging against the wires. She panted, chest heaving as she took in the much needed oxygen. Her eyes drooped, made heavy by the amount of effort she had just exerted. Someday, she might have more stamina when it came to using the Force, but today was not that day. Against her will, darkness filled her vision, and she fell into a dreamless sleep.

Hunter jolted upright, a gasp catching in his throat. He ran a hand over his face, sighing deeply. He’d just been caught in a terrible nightmare. In his nightmare, he’d been leaning over the edge of an enormous drop, his hand outstretched. Below him, stuck in a tangled mess of fraying wires, was Omega, her eyes filled with fear but also shining with trust and relief, like she knew, with absolute certainty, that Hunter was going to be able to save her.

“Come on kid, reach for me.” He’d said, leaning down as much as he could.

And she had. She’d reached her little hand up as much as she could, their fingertips almost touching as they both stretched as much as they could.

Then the wires snapped.

It was like some unseen hand had sliced them with an invisible knife. Hunter lunged forward, nearly toppling over the edge with how fast he moved. Omega had jolted forward, crying out in fear when her hand just barely missed Hunter’s own.

“Hunter!” Her voice had sounded so broken as she disappeared into the darkness, and it had echoed even after she was gone.

Suddenly, the inky void had moved, wrapping around his wrist and tugging him down into the black hole. That had been what woke him up.

Now he was back in the waking world, and the gentle glow of day shone down on him, chasing away the darkness of sleep. He took in a deep breath, easing himself back down. He could hear that no one else had woken up yet, their heartbeats calm and slowed by sleep. He was surprised that his sudden movement hadn’t woken Omega up. Rubbing his eyes, he reached down to make sure that she was still sleeping calmly, needing the reassurance that she was okay.

He found nothing but an empty space, devoid of the warmth that should have been there.

He brought his hand down, frowning as he looked around. Their pile was missing two little bodies, the space beside Hunter and Crosshair lacking the children that had been curled up there last night.

“Kids?” He called softly, not wanting to wake his vode if they had simply gotten up early and were hanging around.

He waited, listening for a reply, whether it be in the form of a verbal response, or just the pitter-patter of small feet coming closer.

Nothing. Not a call, not a noise of acknowledgement, not even the quietest movement.

Panic-laced worry rippled through Hunter, and he gave his closest vod, which happened to be Crosshair, who’d had his chip removed last night, a light kick. His youngest brother snorted, rolling onto his stomach.

“What?” He hissed. Crosshair was a night owl, through and through, so waking him up at sunrise had always left him a bit agitated. It had been such a pain when they had been younger.

“Omega and Cal are gone.” Hunter said, getting up.

Crosshair’s eyes widened, and he quickly looked around to confirm Hunter’s statement.

“Kark!” He yelled, getting to his feet. The others startled awake at his yell, various noises of complaint and confusion coming up from the pile.

“What’s going on?” Rex asked, sitting up and stretching.

“The kids are gone.” Crosshair growled, getting on his armor. “Maker damn it, they’re going to make me keel over from stress.”

“Gone? How can they be gone?” Wrecker asked, sitting up. “We were all right here, so nobody could have taken them, right?”

“No, we would have woken up if there was a struggle. They likely just wandered off. We all know how curious Omega is.” Tech said, quickly putting on his goggles. “I’m sure they’ve just gone to look for something to poke with a stick, or some other childish game. They’re fine. Totally safe.”

The words were said to try and comfort, not because he had any real proof that what he was saying was true.

“Let’s hope you’re right. Tech, Wrecker, Echo, you three search the halls. Rex, Crosshair, come with me. We’ll check outside.” Hunter commanded.

A sinking feeling had made its home in the depths of his gut, and he wanted nothing more than to find Omega and Cal quickly so that he could shake it off.

The world came in fuzzy at first, a blurred mess of muted yellows and dusty reds. Cal groaned, wondering why his head felt like it was going to burst open at any moment. He opened his eyes wider.

Ah, he was upside down. That explained some things.

It took a few seconds for panic to seep into his frazzled mind, but once it does, he’s scrambling to get upright. One of his hands finds a wire, and he grabs it, pulling himself up. It’s at times like these that he’s so thankful for the core muscle strength he’s built up through his years of padawan training. Cal gripped the wire with the strength of a hundred clone troopers, shaking as he waited for the feeling of dizziness that washes over him at the sudden movement to pass.

There are wires wrapped all around different parts of his body, mostly coiling around his waist. His breathing picked up, his heaving breaths almost matching his rapid heart rate. He whimpered as the wires swayed, trying to ignore the fact that, if he fell, he’d be little more than a stain on the ground.

He closed his eyes and reached out with the Force, searching for Omega. He found her nearby, her Force signature dimmed ever so slightly by the veil of sleep. He tried to call to her, but he gets no response.

‘She must be really deep in sleep.’ He thought to himself. He was worried that she might have hit her head on something, and that she might be unconscious rather than asleep.

“’mega.” He croaked. Cal coughed, his throat feeling sticky.

“Omega!” He called again, louder this time.

Nothing.

Damn. Guess he’s going to have to do this the hard way.

Cal brought a hand down to his waist, gripping the smooth handle of his Master’s lightsaber. He ignited the weapon, the bright blue glow illuminating his surroundings. Carefully, he sliced away the wires around his legs and waist, wrapping his legs around the one remaining wire that he was holding on to. Once he was free, he let the lightsaber deactivate as he clipped it onto his waist.

When he’d first touched the lightsaber after he’d ended up on Bracca, the flood of memories had almost broken him. His psychometry could be a blessing at times, but it could also be a terrible curse. The Force had wavered in his despair, his connection with it becoming damaged. He used to have a variety of skills that he could call upon, but he had lost many of them to his trauma. He’d regained his ability to throw things with the Force when he’d needed to protect Omega from Chex, and he wondered if, over time, she would also be the key to regaining what he’d lost.

He shook his head, clearing his mind so that he could focus. Gripping the wire, he started his assent, relying on what minuscule amount of sunlight could reach down into the newly created hole to see. He climbed up the wire, grunting with the exerted effort. He hadn’t been keeping up with his daily exercises in the past weeks, so he was a bit out of shape. Once he was high enough, he started to swing back and forth, praying that the wire would hold.

Soon, he was close enough to jump to the jumble of wires and cables that were supporting Omega’s limp form. He held his breath when one of the wires snapped under their combined weight, his stomach dropping as he realized that the wires might not be able to hold them both.

Once the swaying came to an end, he slowly climbed up, relying on his leg and stomach muscles to support him as he gently shook Omega.

“Omega? Omega, get up!” He commanded, gripping her shoulder.

The pressure must have startled her, because she jolted awake, her limbs flailing. Cal increased his grip, trying to calm her down.

“Stop it! You’re gonna make us fall!” He hissed, looking up at where the wires were coming from.

“Cal?” Omega breathed a sigh of relief. “Are you okay? I heard you hit something after we got separated.”

“I’m a bit lightheaded, but I’ll be okay. What about you?” He checked her over, frowning in concern when he saw how it was wrapped around her leg.

“I’ve been better.” She admitted.

“Do you think you can climb up one of these wires?” Cal asked.

Omega shook her head weakly. “I don’t even think I can lift my arms. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, Omega. We’ll figure something out.” He reassured her. “Maybe I could carry you up?”

Omega arched an eyebrow. “I think I might be too heavy for you.”

“You don’t look that heavy.” Cal responded.

“Thanks, but I’d rather not risk it.” She said, shifting a bit.

Suddenly, one of the wires holding her arm snapped, causing her to fall to the right.

“Kriff! Looks like we might have to!” Cal cursed.

He reached for his lightsaber, but paused for a moment when a sound reached his ears.

“Wait, I think I hear someone.” He looked up towards the hole that they had fallen through.

“These two seem incapable of avoiding trouble. We should have found them by now.”

“Crosshair!�� Cal and Omega shouted.

There was a flurry of footsteps, and then three faces appeared over the edge of the hole.

“Kids! How the hell did you get down there?” Hunter called.

“We fell!” Omega called back.

“We can see that. Hold tight, adike, we’ll get you out.” Crosshair said, before disappearing from view.

Crosshair looked up at Hunter, who’s brow was furrowed in worry.

“What’s the plan, sarge?” He asked.

“We need to find a way to get down to them. Rex, come with me and help me find some wires or cables. Crosshair, keep them calm. I can hear that those wires are gonna give any minute now.” He lay a hand on the ground. “This whole area is fragile, and I don’t trust it not to collapse, so let’s get out of here quickly.”

The sniper nodded, and the captain and sergeant ran off to find the needed items. He leaned back towards the edge, hands gripping the weakened metal. Another wire gave, and Crosshair jolted forward on reflex as Cal and Omega yelped in fear, hand twitching forward as if he could just reach down there and scoop his kids up and bring them away from the danger.

Wait, his kids? When had they become that?

‘They day they trusted you enough to save them.’ A traitorous little voice supplied. ‘And now, they’re doing it again. Don’t break that trust.’

“Udesiir, ade.” He called, trying to keep his voice calm and reassuring. “Everything will be fine, just keep calm and try not to move.”

“O-okay.” Omega replied shakily. “Crosshair, could you teach us that language you guys have been speaking?”

Crosshair gave her a slight smile. “Of course, it is, after all, your language too. “

Omega returned his smile, and managed to stay still as he taught them a few basic words in Mando’a. By the time Rex and Hunter managed to gather the needed supplies, both Cal and Omega could introduce themselves and ask for help. The older clones tossed down a line of wires, old but sturdy rope, and some spare cables. Cal used his lightsaber to cut Omega’s torso free (which startled the men because who gave the kid a lightsaber?) before tying part of the line around her. Once she was secure, he cut all but one wire, clinging to the swaying object for dear life.

Carefully, Rex, Hunter, and Crosshair carefully began to pull Omega up, inch by inch, not wanting to test the strength of the old materials they were using. While they did that, Cal shimmied his way up his wire, reaching the exit before Omega did. Just as he hauled himself up, the wire came loose and fell down into the darkness. The redhead collapsed onto his back, shaking from all the adrenaline that was coursing through his veins.

As soon as she was close enough, Hunter grabbed her as fast as he could, bringing her into his chest. The blonde haired girl curled into him, gripping his armor with shaking hands. His arms wrapped around her, shielding her from the world as he hoisted her up.

“I can hear the metal starting to give, we gotta go.” He said, backing up.

Crosshair scooped up Cal, letting the kid rest his head on his shoulders. Rex quickly stepped back as the edge of the hole crumbled away with a screech, the metal snapping off into smaller chunks.

“Go,go,go!” The captain yelled, making sure that Crosshair and Hunter had started running.

It was like his words had triggered the forming of a sinkhole. Metal collapsed all around them, the rapidly expanding maw of darkness nipping at the armored clone’s heels. A lesser group of soldiers would have been too slow to escape the danger.

Luckily for everyone involved, clone troopers were anything but lesser.

Hunter leapt up onto a chunk of ship, gripping a broken wing and hauling himself up with one hand. Rex and Crosshair were not far behind, easily maneuvering their way to safety. Below them, the ground disappeared, swallowed up by the collapsing cavern. Hunter stared at the emptiness, swallowing when he realized that Omega and Cal could have been trapped down there, crushed beneath tons upon tons of metal.

“Why,” He rasped, looking down at Omega, “did you leave without telling any of us?”

Cal raised his head, eyes wet with tears that had formed from all the adrenaline going through his little body.

“I-it’s my fault. I needed to go get my Master’s lightsaber and I asked Omega to come with me. I-I didn’t think we’d be gone very long, or-or that we’d run into trouble.” He stammered. “But then we ran into that ghost, and then the ground broke, and-and-and-”

“A ghost?” Rex asked. “As in, a Force Ghost?”

“That’s a thing?” Hunter asked.

“I’ve only heard of it briefly. When a Jedi Master dies, and they don’t decide to become one with the Force, they can manifest themselves to other Force users.” He explained.

“So… the kids can talk to dead Jedi.” Crosshair pinched the space between his eyes. “Wonderful.”

Suddenly Omega gasped, sitting up.

“OhmyMakerthewarning!” She said in a rush. “Hunter, we need to get off Bracca!”

“What, why?” The bandanna-wearing man asked.

“The Imperials are coming! We’ve got to get out of here before-!” Omega cut herself off, her eyes widening in fear.

“Omega?” Hunter questioned, turning to see what she was looking at.

His heart just about stopped.

For there, looming high above in Bracca’s atmosphere, was a Subjugator-class heavy cruiser, black as the void of deep space. A fleet of smaller ships appeared all around it, screaming through the skies.

The Empire had found them.

#summerofwhump #summerofwhump[26]#star wars the bad batch #the bad batch #omega bad batch #cal kestis #echo bad batch #wrecker bad batch #tech bad batch #hunter bad batch #crosshair bad batch #captain rex #rex clone wars

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redstainedsocks · 3 years

Text

Human Again

For @amonthofwhump’s March Madness for the whump trope: choking

Here’s my whumpee Zach having a very bad wake up call. I know the previous four Zach pieces have been post-escape but, and hear me out here, he was just in need of some whumping. So have some out of context, out of order, pain. (Read more high up the piece for vaguely referenced thoughts of noncon)

Warnings: Forced nudity, implied torture, implied past noncon, choking, noncon kissing, shotgunning cigarette smoke, smoking, cigarette burns, manhandling, antagonistic language, blindfolds, captive whumpee, nausea mention, food mention, prisoner denied food

Zach woke up naked. He woke up stiff and sore, and though he knew he was on the thin mattress that was granted as his bed—he could smell the musty stink of it—he had no idea how or when he got there.

The two things combined were enough to turn his stomach, and bile crawled up his throat. There were fuzzy memories, blurred indistinct ones of beatings and being bent over a table… but was that the last thing that had happened? Or was there more? Was that even yesterday, or two days ago? It all mixed up together, and he couldn’t work out what had happened when, or which thing it was that had made him lose consciousness. Was it drugs again? An electric shock? Or just the accumulation of pain and fatigue and he’d passed out naturally?

He only knew he must have been out a while to have been brought back to his cell. Not knowing if anything more had happened while he was unawares he shivered and curled up, wishing for a blanket to cover himself with. As he moved he felt the protest in his bruised ribs and moaned as he clutched his side.

“Ah, he lives,” came a smarmy, grunt of a voice.

Great, Mack, of all people, was here.

Zach opened his eyes to better defend himself against whatever Mack had in mind and found something still blocked his sight. He groped for his face, arm numb from his own dead weight crushing it.

“Leave that,” Mack said. “Don’t you fucking dare touch it, that’s your first rule of the day.”

Zach swallowed, groaned again and pushed himself to sit up, hyper aware of every inch of skin on display. He smelled Mack’s cigarettes before he heard the man move, felt the stale smoke waft over his face and another roil of nausea that it brought with it. He lifted a hand to rub his nose and coughed onto the back of his hand to try and rid the smell and the almost-taste of it from his body.

Mack’s hand—probably, unless someone else was here too—caught his wrist and squeezed painfully. “You deaf today or some shit, I said don’t touch your fucking face.” Mack twisted his hand until the skin pinched beneath his grip, and the joint protested. Zach hissed in pain and lurched into action to try and grapple his hand free, digging nails into the back of Mack’s hand.

Mack held on for a few more long moments before he shoved Zach, freeing his wrist, and he scooted further away from where he thought Mack was crouching.

“Actually you said not to touch the blindfold,” he replied tersely. “Try thinking before you speak it might help you get your point across.”

Mack grabbed the back of his neck, fingers curling into the ends of his hair and yanked his head back. Zach hadn’t known to brace for it and the jerk sent a wave of pain that ricocheted down his neck and jarred something in his aching hip. “Far too mouthy you little shit. If it were up to me I’d sew that mouth of yours shut.”

“But then how would we have these little chats I know you love so much?”

Another puff of smoke rolled over his face and he wrinkled his nose, stomach churning. He needed food, water... he needed proper rest, not just to pass out after some torment or other and wake up bruised and sore. Resigned to not getting enough of any of those things he focused on the slight sense of satisfaction of irritating Mack instead.

He heard the hiss of the cigarette being dragged on and hoped it was nearly gone. It was fruitless hoping when fingers gripped his jaw until his lips puckered, the heat of the cigarette sizzling far too close to his skin, held in the fingers that gripped him. Then Mack’s lips were on his and he sucked in a breath of surprise only to inhale a mouthful of smoke.

He sucked it down, drawing it into his lungs in surprise, hoping and hoping for clean air to come on the back of it. Mack’s lips were a seal over his own that breathed the filthy, cloying stuff from his own mouth—expelled it forcefully right to the back of Zach’s throat.

Zach’s lungs grew tight and full and he needed to exhale but Mack’s mouth was still smacked over his own and his tongue was in Zach’s mouth too, invading and claiming and bitterly acrid. Zach grew dizzy, swayed forward as his lungs tried to force the shotgunned smoke back out, he coughed and wheezed and batted at Mack weakly. Over the sound of his own hacking coughs he heard Mack’s laughter. Why was it always funny to these pricks? Why did they have to delight in making him suffer or making him ill?

The weight of it all was enough to drive him flat back onto the mattress, gasping for breath, aware he wasn’t going to catch a break here. Not even given a moment to try and process and remember the previous day’s horrors before the current day’s began.

“Your mouth has other uses too, I guess. Wouldn’t want to miss out on those,” Mack’s shoe nudged him.

He was about to respond when Mack’s heavy weight descended on top of him, driving more air from his lungs. The hand was back and it caressed his jaw as he grew tight as a bow string, muscles locked like he could fight this, change whatever was about to happen by being ready. Mack’s calloused hand slipped lower and closed around his throat... and squeezed.

It trapped the air in his lungs, stopped the coughing in its tracks and he arched up, kicking his legs looking for the pressure to lessen. Mack held him on the knife edge of breathlessness until he went limp, allowed him a precious few wheezing breaths and then closed his hand again while he blew another round of smoke into Zach’s gasping mouth.

Zach squirmed as his chest failed to expand and his lungs didn’t fill, the black behind the blindfold going haywire with flashes of light and colour and then fading to grey. There wasn’t room for breathing or thinking, he was only animal—desperate, hungry and directionless with the fear that came hot on the heels of being pinned down and choked out.

He clawed and kicked, begged with soundless words as he tried to make the shapes and couldn’t find enough air to give them voice.

Mack pressed tighter one more time and then released. Just as Zach thought it was over a burning, blinding pain sparked to life on his shoulder. He writhed, still sputtering inhaled smoke while a scream—half surprise as well as pain—was forced out of his throat. He smelled his singed flesh as well as the ashes of a cigarette on his shoulder. With a heavy hand he blindly flicked the hot ash from his skin, feeling it smear on his fingers with intense heat. He knew the scent would linger on his hands for a while, like some sick sort of reminder of the mornings activities.

“I’d miss that scream too, oooh man, you’re like a little girl sometimes. Can’t handle a little ciggy?”

Zach grit his teeth while tears swelled hotly behind his eyes and he only hoped to keep them at bay. He felt sluggish, no idea if it was from whatever knocked him out, or the lack of breath in his body, or just the general exhaustion and constant suffering. He almost began to laugh, and caught it before it turned into a pitiful whine. Drawing more attention to himself for being strange wouldn’t help him now.

“Think fast,” Mack said and a thud of something heavy landed on his chest with a slosh and a thud. “Drink up. Boss wants you in the training rooms today.”

Grateful for the fresh bottle of water, and hating that he was, Zach fumbled to screw the cap loose. The water soothed his abused throat, settled his stomach a little. Made him feel, briefly, more human.

Mack pulled him off the mattress and to his feet and shoved a pair of loose trousers into his hands, holding him steady with a thumb pressed firmly on the spot Zach had just been burned. Zach steeled himself and ignored the sharp pain. He stepped one foot and then the other into the trouser legs, leaning on Mack for balance while he couldn’t see.

“Now you’ve got your modesty let’s fuckin’ get on with it, step to it Griffin, time to go see what else you’re good for today.”

With tired, heavy feet Zach followed where Mack steered him. Whatever dregs of human decency he was given were always taken away sooner or later. He wondered if today would be a day he remembered, or if it would fade and be lost to some indescribable pain like the day before. He shuddered, unsettled by the idea that maybe it was kinder if he forgot; if the memory was choked out of him into oblivion so he could sleep deeply and soundlessly. If all the days bled into one, would he really be living them? Or could he float through them like the moments he drifted, lacking in oxygen, somewhere between consciousness and sleep.

He hated that that seemed appealing and wrapped a tentative hand around the bruises forming on his throat and pressed down, just because he could, just to feel the pain because he chose to for once; just to remind himself he was still very much alive, awake, and human, and that was worth fighting for.

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artsyxloner · 3 years

Text

Not Just a Monster

Warning: blood, violence, death

27: Realization of the true enemy

It's has been a while since I had locked myself up in the quarantine room. Laying down on the mattress. I tried to ignore the huge Puddle of thick blood that was on the floor.

I know I was supposed to be strong but it was completely hard. By having —well the relationship was complicated we didn't Officially Announce we were together but now we never will because Hyun-Su doesn't feel the same way back.

I knew it was all because of that one boy, getting inside Head. I mean Hyun-Su didn't even let me explain and he rather listens to a boy he Barely knows and pushes me aside from the one who has helped him through thick and thin here and it doesn't mean anything over one little thing.

It was hard for me to, and I'm glad the others understood but I thought at least Hyun-Su would have I guess I should have gotten to know him better before jumping into things. I guess I was so Transfixed on feeling bad for him and knowing he was just like me. I didn't get to see this stubborn side of him.

Maybe the reasons why he is-is because of things that happened in his past but that doesn't mean everyone witnesses like that I guess he has major trust issues. It sure seems like it. When you're alone you have a lot to think about.

Maybe I had too much to think about sitting up, I saw a brown leather cover laying on top of a table. Did it seem to be oddly familiar? Maybe this will calm down my consuming thoughts. Dragging myself over to it I carefully picked it up and opened it.

For some reason, I skipped over the first page and went on to the others. It looked like a filed Journal of monsters Someone drew. They were really good. As I continued to search through this thing something fell out on my lap. Picking it up my eyes went wide.

It was a picture. But not just any pictures it was of me and three other people. A woman, a man, and an older boy that looked to be in his early twenties. They were all smiling being happy. I didn't understand was this, my family?

If so why is it in this journal? For some reason, I flipped back to the first page. And almost dropped the book. It was a drawling of them but they were all dead. Why was that even there? Were they killed? Was it by a human or a monster?

It had no writing just gruesome drawings. This helps me know what my family looked like but this doesn't give me any Perspective of who killed them? Something told me it was me in the back of my head but I quickly pushed that aside that was nearly impossible I wouldn't ever try and hurt someone like that.

Or even if I did I would go insane but while trying to stay sane. Because I don't know if I'll be able to handle that? Sliding the picture back in the book I closed it putting it back where it belongs even though it was mine I didn't want to look at it as a reminder that my family was gone.

Yes I should take it with me but I don't remember them and how can I miss them if I don't remember? No memory of any birthdays, family dinners or just watching tv together on Saturday nights?

I had to leave it for now maybe I'll remember one day. I for sure hope so because it was all fuzzy like a screen that has gone static. Getting up I began to search for a bag and start packing things for when I leave tonight.

I won't say anything I'll go anonymously. So no one will have to worry or question why I'm leaving it was for everyone's good. They don't need me like I said I just cause trouble. Heading out of the room. I was about to go to the small convenience store that had almost everything to flashlights, ropes, and first-aid kits.

But stopped when I saw Sang-Wook with Yu-Ri on his back as they passed me. Something was wrong as I heard her wheezing terribly. She must have run out of an inhaler. She could smother to death from lack of oxygen.

( Y'all, I have Severe asthma, and let me tell you it sucks when you don't have an inhaler anyone else? )

I began to follow him, even though I was leaving that still didn't mean I didn't care them I wanted to help. " how long has she been like this and without an inhaler?!" I shouted, Sang-Wook grunted, as he heaved her up as I could tell she was about to fall.

" she just had run out and for a while here!" I nodded the closest Drugstore wasn't far from here. He hand-thrown the keys to me. As we neared the entrance I felt a hard blow that made me go flying back. There were three loud thuds. As I landed on the side of my rib cage.

I cringed, gritting my teeth I could hear Yu-ri Coughing trying her best to breathe. As she sucked in the air, I half-way walked and crawled over to her but was kicked down. I hand gripped the keys in my hand, it was no surprise who I saw looking up.

It was him.

He had stepped on my wrist, bending down he grabbed the set of keys from me. " going somewhere?" He shook the keys in his grasp laughing a bit with a smirk plastered on his face. This little bitch?!

" give them back!" I spit, trying to get up he placed his foot on my chest stepping down on it. Making it hard for me to breathe too. " what's going on?" I heard someone say. The person who walked in it was Hyun-Su I didn't expect a reaction from him.

But when he looked down his eyes widened a bit. He glanced up at his 'friend' questionably? The boy raised his hand up Jingling the keys. " They were trying to leave." Why does he even care? " so?" I pushed his foot off me with all the strength I had.

Getting up, " why does it matter to you!" I began but was Interrupted. " it doesn't matter." Hyun-Su looked at me, I frowned. " if they report us, the soldiers will come." He said Plainly, was this that was all about?

I shook my head. " oh, yeah I would go and risk reporting us?!" I fired back, poking my finger in his chest. I hated this guy. I was so close to wanting to beat the crap out of him he's causing nothing but chaos around here.

" then why are you trying to leave?"

I stopped there for a minute Hyun-Su was the one questioning me now. I balled up my fist. " because there's someone that requires medical attention." I was so angry I began to cry. The last words of my sentence broke. As I blinked a few tears away.

I saw Sang-Wook from the corner of my eye picking up Yu-Ri. I motioned over towards her. " if you cared Hyun-Su you would stop letting this guy get in your head and see who the real problem is because it's not us yes things were difficult for you but did you ever think it was hard for me too?"

I couldn't control my tears anymore they came rushing down it was true it was hard for me but he didn't acknowledge that I was going through a hard time too. I didn't care if I was showing my Vulnerable side it showed that I still had a human heart.

I still had sympathy, I couldn't tell what emotion was going through Hyun-Su's eyes it was hard to read but he snatched the keys from the boy handing them to me. I quickly took them silently thanking him which didn't mean anything.

" Let them go, it's up to her now."

I was the last thing Hyun-Su said before we three made our way to the large opening that was caused by the tank. Sang-Wook began to run along with me to his side. She had to make it. But little did I know things don't turn out the way you want them to.

There was a loud bang that shot throughout the air. I turned my head to see a bullet flying through the air hitting Yu-Ri in the back. The impact of it made her let go of Sang-Wook.

I let out an Ear-piercing scream, seeing her blood splatter out from her back. I began to ran. They both were tipping over but that was good. I pushed them out of the way where the bullets wouldn't hit them anymore. They fell to the ground, " Go! I'll cover you!!!" I yelled. Sang-Wook got up and held on to Yu-ri tightly and began to run.

I heard the sound of more bullets being fired but this time I was the one getting hit in every direction. My body Flung back and forth. It was better for me than them. I hope they were going to be okay.

But soon there was another scream, it wasn't me this time but it sounded more like a boy. The bullets stopped flying, as I fell to the ground on my knees. Everything hurt. As I saw blood seeping in throughout my clothes small holes could be seen through them and my skin.

But I knew I would be okay. Looking up I saw Hyun-Su, he was running towards that boy. I could see his face was twisted in terror as his cries were let out loud. I checked behind me to see. Sang-Wook was lay down on the ground and Yu-Ri was laying her back on the dashboard limbs falling aimlessly.

No!

I was too late they were hit. I began to cry again, I wanted to go over and help them but Sang-Wook motioned me to go and help the others. As there were a loud crash and more screams and gunshots. I turned away running towards the action that was unfolding.

There he was standing in the middle of the room. Holding out a gun shooting people for the fun of it. I blocked there his shots so more people could get to safety. Most of them did. As more of the group came and got Byeong-II he was shot through the back of the chest.

" You never stop trying to get in my way!" I turned and saw his eyes going black. " so I'm just going to have to kill you myself since the first time didn't do the job!" He seethed, as his other arm shot out his hand gripped around my neck pulling me up in the air.

I could feel his fingers tightening Pressing down on my Windpipe. I struggled to breathe choking on my Saliva and air. I grasped his hand trying to make him loosen up but it wouldn't. My feet dangled in the air. I could feel my face turning red from the lack of oxygen.

I tasted blood, as I began to spite it up. More gunshots were fired. As I saw them hit his face but they Protruded out of his skin healing up as nothing had happened. My eye vision was going blurry again until I saw someone from the corner of my eye running towards us.

The person slammed into the boy that was trying to kill me. Both of their bodies flew to the side. As he let go of my neck I fell to the ground hard. Coughing like a fish out of water trying to catch my breath. It was Hyun-Su that tackled him they crashed into a room.

Wood, dust, glass went flying everywhere, I ducked. Hearing groaning, I stepped up about to go and help Hyun-Su but he was thrown out of the glassless window. He went sliding on the ground hitting the wall. Grunting, in pain Running over to him.

I bent down, " Hyun-Su! Are you okay?" I asked worriedly. He looked up and regret was filled in his dark browns. I pulled my hand up under his arm and around his back trying to help him up. I turned my face if was towards him. We were very close. Feeling his hot breath fanning mine as he breathed hard.

" Soo-Nico I'm—" but he was Interrupted by that one boy. He didn't get to finish what he was going to say. I held on to Hyun-Su tightly. " I should've known you were sulking after killing that woman!" I could see his footsteps inching close to us. He grabbed me by my face pulling me up.

" And you trying to defend him for it!!" That's when he threw me up against the wall my back colliding with the glass mirror. I could hear it shattering against my skin as the Ragged blades cut into me. " you both are the weak ones!!" He pushed me harder into the glass. I sucked in a sharp breath.

He then let go was I dropped to the ground next he went over to Hyun-Su. " do you want to know something funny? Let me tell you the truth." He grabbed Hyun-Su face now. That was mixed in with anger towards the boy who he thought he trusted. His jaw was clenched as he bared his teeth.

" you didn't kill anyone."

Hyun-Su face quickly switched into confusion, face lighting a bit in disbelief. The boy then hit him and his hand turned into a sharp spear and jabbed it through Hyun-Su's stomach pushing him up against the wall. I could hear him groaning and grunting in pain.

" because that woman was me." The boy smiled Sinisterly laughing. Like he was having a flashback of what had happened. His eyes were Shown through the broken mirror as his face repeated by it his black eyes the dominant view as he laughed crazily.

He then pulled the spear-like thing out of Hyun-Su as he fell to the ground. I was in pain as I watched the mirror fall on him. His face had so much mixed emotions I couldn't tell what will happen. His fist balled up as the boy started to talk again.

" Nobody can leave!"

He shot at the car as gas leaked out from it. Creating sparks that reached the gas as it soon caught on fire sending the place in a blaze. He had cut the swinging chandelier as his hood up he walked over towards Hyun-Su but his hand soon shot out from underneath the mirror all covered in blood, sweat and dirt.

His fingers and arm twitch and began to bending on all different types of ways as more spear-like things Poked out of his skin. Sliding up with blood covering them. I watched him in horror as he began to transform.

@xetherealbeautyx

#kdramaedit #koeran #korean show #kdrama spoilers #kdramaspace #kdrama #netflix kdrama #netflix korea #netflixedit #netflix #sweet home #sweet home spoilers #sweet home series #sweet home webtoon #song kang #cha hyun su #webcomic

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commonwealthoccurences · 3 years

Text

Orange Colored Sky (OMTWY Part Two)

Note: Overused passing-out trope, anyone? Apologies. I hope everyone’s enjoying Fallout 4 February so far, any feedback would be appreciated!

TW: Death, blood, and violence. Injured child (burns). Be careful!

Prompt: Orange Colored Sky by Nat “King” Cole

Day: 4

Word Count: 2202

Smoke had filled the air, leaving ash scattered throughout the once pristine halls of the Institute. Amongst the gunfire and shouts of alarm, the crackling flames and the falling debris, Sole could hear the winding glass pathways creaking under the stress of the heat. Sweat was beading on their forehead, creating a thin layer between them and their armor, and their breath was coming in short, borderline choking gasps as smoke filled the air.

Something had gone wrong in the communication with the Railroad and Minutemen, and one of the charges had been set off early before someone could catch the error. Half of the science wing had been turned to dust, a large crater replacing what had once been towering and expansive, a pillar of achievement. Sole had barely dodged the flying glass and metal as they attempted to usher synths out of the area, and X6-88 had vanished into the atrium right before the blast went off.

With a moment's breath to pause and send all of their wishes of safety to X6, they began picking themself up off the cracking ground, looking around to make sure the people they were leading were okay. Charred pieces of the plastic foliage scattered through the air, floating down like smoking bits of confetti. What a celebration, Sole thought to themself sarcastically as they readied their weapon to fire at a charging gen-one synth. Their bullets hit the mark, despite the shaking in their hands, and they thanked the training Deacon had put them through.

They slipped the group of synths through the chaos with little hesitation. Fortunately, they’d had the foresight to steal a worker’s uniform off one of the dead Institute members, so unless someone looked at them closely like the last synth did, they blended right in. For all the others knew, they were an Institute employee fleeing the ruckus with a group of loyal synths. They tugged their helmet lower on their head to hide their face better as they kept running.

Despite the rumbling of the imminent collapse, the maintenance halls behind the inner walls muffled the sound of everything going downhill. Soundproofing, maybe? God knows what the Institute did that for, not that it mattered for long. The back halls were mostly deserted; they knew that at least one of the entrances had caved in, and they were so hard to get to that most had probably already died getting anywhere near them.

They paused by the doorway to the room that housed the teleporter and waved the group in, counting in their head to make sure no one had been left behind. The last synth paused and gripped their upper arms, desperate and wheezing. “Please…”

Sole reached out to hoist them upwards as they began falling to their knees, probably from a lack of oxygen. “What’s wrong?” They asked, tone urgent.

“Abigail. She’s a new synth, nine years old. She has no idea what’s happening. They left her in the atrium, I don’t know where she’s gone!”

Sole heaved out a breath and paused to steady themself, eyes closed momentarily. Even if they were synths, they were family, and they had to do right by them. With a firm nod, they ushered the synth towards the portal and steeled themself to go rushing back into the chaos. Somewhere in the back of their mind they heard X6 screaming at them to get out of there, that they couldn’t do any more if they were dead. Good thing he wasn’t there to stop him. After a moment to embrace the silence, they took off again like hell itself was right behind them. Perhaps it was.

The way back out of the maintenance halls was painfully easy, a deceptive route back into the shitshow that awaited them. Their boots echoed as they pounded against the barely-tainted floors; they left footprints of ash and blood in their wake as they charged through the empty area. With their build up of speed, it was difficult to skid to a stop when they were faced with piles of rubble where the exit should’ve been.

That was the only way out or in. Sole cursed, a loud “Shit!” that echoed off the walls, nearly drowned out by the sounds of gunfire they could hear on the other side of the newly-formed wall. They stepped forward and began examining the situation, prying their fingers under pieces of rock and support beams to see if they could find any leverage. Precious minutes ticked by in the back of their mind as they jammed their fingers in different cracks and crevices with no luck. After a few more seconds than they appreciated were lost, they finally felt something come loose.

Internally throwing as much energy as they could at praying the pieces of wall wouldn’t come tumbling down on them, they pulled as hard as they could, grunting from the strain of the weight. At first, nothing happened. Then everything came crashing down in front of them, leaving a cloud of dust and debris to join the mixture of smoke and ash. A harsh cough burned their lungs, and they leaned over, hands on their knees as they tried to eject the unwelcome particles with hacking gasps.

Their lungs, their throat, their nose, and their muscles all burned from the exertion of the fight; hell, the world was burning, or so it seemed from the flames that had now spread so heavily that it was difficult to see any farther than a few feet in front of them. They wished they’d been more grateful for clean-ish air when they had it and kept moving.

By some miracle the stairs to the higher levels of the structure weren’t completely blocked, just provided an oh-so-needed extra challenge of leaving obstacles in their path. They leapt over chunks of walls and climbed over steel beams that had fallen into the walkway, ducked under large supports, and skidded in pools of blood, shining red under the knocked-loose and now dangling fluorescent lights.

Despite the fact that they initially believed the smoke couldn’t get any worse, the higher they climbed, the thicker and more persistent it became. As always, the wasteland came through to prove them wrong. Cursing yet again, they reached the landing and pressed their elbow over their nose, struggling to even cough. Their eyes stung and watered.

Down the hall something glinted near the floor, shining like a beacon; it wasn’t blood, for once. Maybe it was who they were looking for, or maybe it was someone else who needed help. With that thought in mind, they hurried down the hall and kneeled down to get a better look. It was an arm, with a watch latched firmly around the person’s wrist. A chunk of the wall had come crumbling down on top of them, pinning them to the ground and likely killing them instantly. Maybe it was selfish and rude, but they were grateful it belonged to an adult, wished them peace, and got to their feet to keep looking.

When they got up and redirected their attention to eye-level they lifted their gun before they even registered what they were doing. Just down the hall was a shadow, outlined by smoke and barely visible amongst the shifting light. Too short to be an enemy; they rushed forward. “Sweetheart! Hey, I’m here-” They were interrupted by a coughing fit at the sting of smoke flooding their lungs yet again. “Here to help!”

The child stumbled towards them, pressing their hands to their face. “Abigail?” They called out again.

“That’s me!” She responded, her voice a shrill, terrified cry, broken by sobs.. “Help! Please!”

Sole scooped Abigail up before the child could draw another choking breath and swivelled on their heels, headed back down the stairs with a harsh gasp of air. The smoke was definitely getting worse; they were working on a ticking clock and the smoke was just reinforcing that for Sole. They made it down the stairs in record time and were rushing across the atrium floor, dodging what tumbled down from the walls and the shattering glass, when something slammed into the back of their head and they went down in an instant, Abigail leaving their grasp with a cry. Shortly after, their vision went black.

There were no words needed for X6-88 to part the crowd; the emotion on his face and the knowledge of those around that he was there for Sole was more than enough. When he reached the cleared area, they were propped up against a part of the building, an oxygen mask pressed against their face by Curie’s small hand. She was smoothing the hair away from their face, as reliable as always when it came to taking care of them when he couldn’t.

The sting in his knees didn’t register when he fell to kneel in front of them. They were covered in soot and sweat, the only clean space on their forehead being where the helmet had sat. He couldn’t stand to see them in the Institute uniform; something tainted on someone who had saved him. His hands were shaking as he struggled to move forward, or maybe the world was just a little unsteady.

Carefully, as if one wrong move may break them, he forced himself into action. Curie smiled at him gently and moved her arms to support Sole’s back, sitting them up a little further. He moved between them and the cold building and leaned them back against his chest. X6-88 took a deep breath to steady his trembling and reached up to take the mask from Curie’s hands. He held it against their face as still as he could and shifted his head to press a kiss against their temple. “They should be awake soon, I think. Their levels are returning to normal.” Curie spoke softly, not wanting to disturb any peace.

X6 didn’t look up at her, and instead nodded, his eyes fixated on the rising and falling of Sole’s chest, terrified that if he looked away for a moment it’d stop. Superstition and chance was never his thing until he met Sole. He ran a hand up their arm and hesitated.

Being together while working with the Institute wasn’t exactly something that came easy. Saying “I love you” was never an option. If someone overheard or checked security tapes for some reason and found out, X6 was as good as dead, and Sole’s cover was blown. No, instead, they were clever enough to tap his arm or shoulder when they would jokingly throw an arm around him, pretending as if they were playing along with the way the scientists would joke about how he was so serious, despite the fact that it was something they had programmed into him.

And then the bird began figuring a way out of his cage, lost his stone-cold edge, and Sole began to say I love you in their own little way. Morse code. Pressed into his skin at all angles, tapped against his back in the middle of a combat situation, dotted over his shoulders and spine in the middle of a meeting with scientists. Over and over again, they said it without opening their mouth. He’d never gotten the courage to say it back until that moment, and he was terrified it was too late, shaking and full of regret.

Their breath stuttered for a moment and he held his own despite the burn that lingered from the smoke that had worked its way into his lungs. They shifted, twisting their head to the side as if trying to hide from the light of the sun overhead, and pressed themself further into his chest. He breathed a sigh of relief at a sign of them becoming conscious. Once they paused their movement, he paused, too. Then, tapped against the skin of their arm from where Curie had cut off their sleeve to place a monitor, I love you, pressed into them for the first time by his fingerprints.

Another pause. The world seemed fond of stopping time as of late when it was all too inconvenient. Then, against the middle of his thigh where their hand had fallen limp, I love you. He gasped out another breath and squeezed his eyes shut, ignoring the tears that streaked down his face, no doubt leaving a path through the ash. He pressed another kiss against their temple, and then another against their cheek.

They shifted in his arms and tipped their head back, blinking blearily as they looked up at him. It seemed difficult, the way Sole struggled to lift their arm and brushed an unsteady hand against his cheekbone, gaze filled with wonder, as if he were the only thing they wanted to look at for the rest of their days.

Somewhere he found the strength to pull them even closer against him, practically cradling them as he rested their head against his shoulder and kissed their cheekbone again. This earned him a dazed smile. “It’s over.” He murmured, lips brushing against their skin as he spoke. “We’re free.” Their smile grew and he choked out a relieved sob. They were free, the sky lit up orange from the fiery remains of their cage.

#Fallout 4 #Fo4 #Fallout 4 February #Fo4f #Oneshot #Imagine #Fluff #Angst #Hurt Comfort #TW: Injury #TW: Gore #X6-88

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mamabearcatfanfics · 4 years

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Instinct - Chapter 5

I’m posting this a little early, but I need to take my youngest to the park, attend the Inuyasha Book Club meeting, do laundry ready for the school week and finish writing other things, and I didn’t want it to get forgotten in the general Sunday madness!

You can read it on AO3, or continue on below 😘

Kagome did her best not to panic as the ambulance door slammed shut. She tried to listen to the slow deep voice of the paramedic explaining what he was doing, slightly muffled by the surgical mask he’d donned as soon as Inuyasha had laid her down on the bed and jumped down out of the ambulance. The paramedics hands were steady, his voice calm, and she tried to focus on watching him as he wrote down numbers on a chart and twisted dials on equipment .

Mama’s hand reached out to stroke her leg over the white sheet that had been pulled up to her waist, and Kagome closed her eyes, concentrating on the familiarity of Mama’s soothing voice and touch in the jarring interior of the brightly lit ambulance. But she felt adrift without him.

Strange as it may seem, she’d come to take comfort in the predictability of Inuyasha’s abrasive personality. It had taken her a while, but over the emotionally charged months that they’d spent together, eating, sleeping, laughing, fighting, she’d worked out that it was all a front. It was hardly surprising really, that he would build up emotional armour in response to his hard and lonely childhood. But he’d begun to gradually let that front slip as the trust between them built, at first offering grudging friendship, and now she hoped, something more.

Over these last few days as he’d cared for her, he’d allowed his true personality to shine through, and he’d become her lifeline, her one point of stablity in the pervasive fog of pain and fever. Inuyasha had promised he’d follow, and he never broke his promises. That was the only thing holding her together. Because she’d heard the second paramedic say the name of the place where they were going – the hospital where her father had died.

She’d been seven – a happy little girl with no concept of how cruel life could be. Her father was late coming home from work, and all she’d been concerned about was whether he’d arrive home in time to read her a bed time story, because he did the voices better than Mama. But the familiar sound of his key turning in the lock never came. An unfamiliar knock on the front door at that time of night was jarring, breaking the usual evening family routine. It had surprised them all.

When Mama opened the door, instead of her father’s smiling face there had been police, their faces sombre. They said there had been an accident. Mama was crying. Grandpa had stroked Mama’s arm while she stood behind them, unsure of what was going on. She tried her best to cling to Mama’s waist, but Mama’s stomach was now so full of her yet to be born baby brother that she couldn’t make her arms meet. The kind police lady had tried to take her hand, but she didn’t want a stranger, she wanted Mama and Papa. Mama never cried and Kagome was terrified.

The police had driven them to the hospital, and she’d sat on the back seat, squashed in between Mama and Jiji, holding their hands tightly, the city lights going past in a blur. She hadn’t known what to think, what to say. There had to have been some kind of mistake that would be cleared up when they got there.

They were told that they’d only be allowed in the ICU ward for a few minutes. The ward had felt alien, like another planet, the large open space filled with machines and curtains and beeps and whispers. Strangers with masks passed by them, with shoes that squeaked on the grey rubber flooring. The room stank of bleach, reminding her of when Mama had to clean up after Buyo’s little accidents when he was a kitten.

Jiji had held her hand tightly as they walked past other patients, telling her softly that she must be careful not to touch anything, and that she had to be brave. She wanted to be brave, wanted Jiji to be proud, but she was scared, more scared than she’d ever been.

And then they’d stopped at a bed at the end of the ward. She hadn’t wanted to believe that man in the bed was her father. He was completely unrecognisable, his chest and one arm covered in dressings and bandages, with more bandages wrapped around his head. He had tubes coming out of one arm, and a plastic mask with tubes coming out of it over his face. He wasn’t wearing the clothes he’d left the house in that morning, or the watch Mama had got him for his birthday.

Mama’s shaking fingers had reached out to stroke the man’s unbandaged hand, so softly, like she was worried he would break more if she wasn’t careful. But that couldn’t be right. Her Papa was strong. Strong enough to throw her high into the air at the park. Strong enough to pick up Mama and whirl her around the kitchen until she giggled. Strong enough to help Jiji lift heavy things onto high shelves in the store room that she couldn’t even move.

She’d told her mother quietly but clearly that the police had made a mistake, and they should go home. This was some other little girl’s Papa, and her Papa would be home any minute, wondering where his dinner was.

Then her ears were filled with the frightening sound of her Mama’s anguished voice calling out Papa’s name. Nurses came running, drawn by the sudden beeps and alarms of the machines near the bed. Jiji had picked her up and taken her out of the way as she cried out for Mama, taken her back through the big room and down a narrow corridor.

She’d sat with Jiji in a waiting room that smelt like sadness, with a tv that only showed one channel. There was a toybox, but the toys were all for babies. She flicked through a half filled colouring book that sat on a little table for something to do while they waited for Mama, but the crayons in the plastic tub next to it were all broken, with most of the pretty colours missing.

It wasn’t Mama that came to get them, but a doctor. He’d asked them to follow him to a little room close by, refusing to answer Jiji’s questions until they’d gone inside and he’d shut the door. It was a small depressing space, with faded artwork hanging askew on the wall, empty apart from a few chairs and a table with a box of tissues on it. Mama was already there, crumpled in on herself like crushed paper, her face buried in her arms to muffle the sound of her crying.

The doctor had said he was sorry, but there was nothing they could do – Papa’s injuries from the car accident had been too severe. The words had whooshed over her like an icy breeze. She didn’t want them to be true, and she’d frantically looked at Mama and Jiji’s faces in turn, wanting one of them to say that the doctor was wrong. How could those words be true, when he’d patted her on the head just this morning, and told her to do her best at school? Told her that he hoped she’d have a good day, and he’d see her tonight?

But Mama was still crying, her hands reaching out blindly for them both. Jiji had turned and collapsed onto the chair next to Mama, his own face ashen. Then he’d picked her up and rocked her on his lap, even though he usually said she was getting too big to be cuddled like a baby now that she was almost a big sister.

Shocked tears had begun to pour down her cheeks, even as she felt Jiji’s tears dripping on to her neck, and Mama’s soft hands pulling her legs to rest on the small amount of lap she had left, stroking her softly as she tried to comfort her with broken words. And then she knew it was true. Papa was gone. It had been an accident, but that accident had taken her Papa away as surely as if someone had killed him on purpose.

Now they were going back to that same hospital ten years later, and she didn’t know how she felt about that. Part of her felt like that same petrified little girl, stepping into an unknown world. It was so hard to focus. Her mind was swimming, the constant fight for air was making her feel panicky, like she needed to run away. And her chest hurt so much lying down. She tugged on the paramedic’s arm weakly, trying to sit up.

“Is your pain worse when you’re laying on your back?” he asked, making adjustments to the bed when she nodded. “Sorry about that – I didn’t quite get the bed set up properly before your boyfriend carried you in. We’re nearly at the hospital Kagome-san. Deep breaths – let the oxygen mask help you.” Her brain tucked the word ‘boyfriend’ away to think about later, when she wasn’t struggling to breathe.

The ambulance pulled to a stop and the back doors opened. Someone helped Mama step down, and she was startled when the paramedic clicked a safety belt across her waist and her bed started to move, jolting her slightly as the legs extended to the ground and locked into place. Everything was a blur.

Large sliding doors swished open and she was wheeled into a small room, unable to see everything from her position on the bed. A nurse was taking her temperature, taking her blood pressure, talking to Mama and the paramedics, asking her questions, but she couldn’t answer, her breath wheezing behind the mask on her face.

The urge to run grew even greater, so much so that she half sat up and tried to swing her legs off the bed, but the belt still around her waist held her back. The nurse tried to restrain her arms gently, telling her to be calm, that she was safe. But she didn’t feel safe at all! She wanted to leave. A feeling of claustrophobia swept over her as she struggled to free her arms, her chest heaving as her body tried to breathe and cough at the same time. And then his voice cut through the static fogging her brain.

“Kagome. It’s gonna be okay sweet girl. Deep breaths, remember?”

People were arguing in the background, commenting on Inuyasha’s lack of mask and shoes, and Mama was saying something, trying to smooth things over, but none of that mattered to Kagome. He’d promised he’d be there and he was. Her hand shot out to grasp his fingers tightly, and she lay back weakly on the pillow, no longer struggling to run.

“Inuyasha…”

“Promised I’d be here didn’t I?” Kagome nodded, taking in gasps of air behind the mask, squeezing his fingers, her eyes locked on his. Inuyasha stroked his thumb over her wrist. “You gonna be good and take your medicine?”

“Please don’t leave again”, she wheezed, her eyes filling with sudden tears.

“Keh. Wasn’t plannin’ on it.” His other hand reached up to smooth her fringe back, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear, his face and voice a point of calm as the medical professionals bustled around her. “Just lay quietly, that’s my good girl. I’m here, and I’m not goin’ anywhere else.”

💕

Inuyasha’s nose twitched behind the surgical mask they’d insisted he wear. Even though he disliked the feel of it against his face, it actually blocked out some of the scents that had irritated him so much when he first arrived, making him feel like he constantly needed to sneeze. Besides, they’d said if he wanted to stay in the hospital room at Kagome’s side it was essential, so he put up with it.

Mama had tied the strings on the mask on for him, over the top of his bandana, and had somehow found some hospital slippers for him to slip onto his feet, because apparently him being barefoot was also an issue. They were now both sitting beside Kagome’s bed, watching her as she slept.

His heart was full of gratitide. Thankful for Mama, who had made it clear to the healers that he was family and she wanted him to stay. Thankful that she had somehow found a way to explain things to him without making him feeling totally useless and stupid. Thankful for the medicine that was allowing Kagome to finally sleep, a proper sleep for the first time in days.

She’d been asleep for a few hours now. The nurse kept coming in and poking and prodding her, making him want to snarl at them to leave her be, but her eyes remained closed, her breathing still congested, but steady. Her face was still pale under the breathing mask, but it had finally lost that expression of constant pain and panic that had made him feel frantic over the last few days.

He really hadn’t paid much attention as Mama had spoken to the doctor after they’d got the results of all the tests. The phrase ‘viral pneumonia’ meant virtually nothing to him, but they’d said that Kagome was responding to the medication, and would probably start feeling better in a few days, seeing she was young and healthy, providing she took her medicine and allowed her body to rest and heal.

Before they’d given her the sleeping medicine, a nurse had come in to show Kagome how to cough effectively to help get rid of all the mucous in her lungs, and to show him and Mama how they could help her. Kagome had told the nurse proudly that Inuyasha had already been doing that for her, her eyes glowing as she gazed at him, and he’d felt his heart swell and his cheeks flush as all three women gazed at him approvingly.

He’d quelled his sudden urge to smash the window and leap out of it to avoid the sudden unwanted attention, but only just. He understood it would cause problems for Kagome and Mama and it wasn’t worth the momentary reprieve from the embarrassment. He was proud to think that what had come to him instinctually had actually been helpful, but that didn’t mean he wanted people talking about it, and looking at him.

“Inuyasha?” Mama’s voice was gentle and quiet, and had lost that sharp edge of panic that it had contained ever since he’d come through the well and told her that Kagome was ill, and he was glad.

“Mmm?” he replied, his eyes never leaving Kagome’s sleeping face.

“Now that Kagome is resting comfortably, I was thinking of getting something to eat from the cafeteria downstairs before it closes. Will you stay here with her for me? I could bring something back for you to eat if you like?”

“Course I’ll stay.” He thought for a moment. “Do ya think they’d have ramen? Or those po-ta-to crunchy things in the crinkly bag?” Mama stood, reaching for her handbag with one hand and stroking his shoulder affectionately with the other.

“I’ll see what I can do. I won’t be long. Don’t go roaming around the hospital while I’m gone, okay?”

“Feh. I'm not goin' anywhere. Why would I leave Kagome unprotected like that when she’s asleep?” He reached his hand out to stroke Kagome’s fingers resting on top of the blanket, so softly, like he was worried she would break if he wasn’t careful. Mama made a small sound behind him, and he turned his head curiously. The paper mask on his face seemed to be messing with his senses, because Mama’s scent seemed to be both sad and happy all at once.

“I’m so glad she has you Inuyasha” she said quietly, with a little hitch in her voice. And with that she turned quickly, moving out of the room and down the corridor.

“I’m glad I have you too.” Kagome’s voice was still raspy, but her eyes were clear, and he could see her smile beneath the plastic mask.

“Oi. You’re meant to be sleepin’. Quit talkin’ and close your eyes.”

“I’m awake now.” She tried to pull herself upwards, reaching for the strap that hung over the bed, but Inuyasha was too fast. In moments he’d helped her sit up, letting her lean forward against his strong arm while he tucked pillows behind her back like he’d seen the nurse do earlier.

“Thank you Inuyasha. Thank you for looking after me.” Her fingers stroked his hand, then twined their fingers together, her thumb caressing his wrist. She was looking at him with so much emotion in her eyes, he could hardly stand it.

Out of habit, all the usual words to push any contact away popped reflectively into his mind, but they stuck in his throat, and he swallowed them down. He didn’t need them anymore. Not with her. Not with Kagome. He tipped his head forward so their foreheads were resting against each other.

“I’ll always look after you my sweet girl, because you are precious to me”, he said softly, his fingers squeezing hers. But then he pulled back, grinning behind the paper mask, his eyes teasing. “That don’t mean you can slack off when you’re better though. You’ll have done more than enough layin’ around by then.”

Her sudden giggles turned into coughs, and it was second nature by now to help her, easing her mask off her face so she could cough up the phlegm. Even her cough sounded easier since she’d had that special medicine that went through the breathing mask.

He’d made the right decision, bringing her back through the well to her mother. If she’d stayed in his time, like she wanted to, he wasn’t sure she would have made it. His gut churned at the thought making him feel sick to his stomach, and he pushed the horrible images that came to mind away quickly, not wanting to waste his time on them. Kagome was right in front of him, and was going to recover. She was okay. Everything was going to be okay. He breathed out a sigh of relief, but she’d already noticed the fleeting change in his expression. She always noticed.

“Inuyasha?”

He stroked her cheek, taking the chance to feel the soft skin under his fingers before he had to put the medicine mask back on her face, and shook his head.

“Ain’t important.”

“Yes it is, if it makes you look like that! What’s wrong?”

He sighed, dropping his hand down to caress her fingers, unable to look at her face.

“You could’a died Kagome. If you were livin’ with me in my time with this sickness, with no way back through the well, you probably would have. And I wouldn’a been able to do a damn thing about it!”

He drew in a ragged breath, his heart beating fast, his youkai instincts rising at the thought of what he was about to say, snarling at him, but he pushed them back. This wasn’t about him. It was about Kagome’s safety, and he would always put her first. He stared at her hands as he gathered his courage to say what he wanted to say; they were so much smaller than his own. He couldn’t risk her.

“Kagome… when all of this is over, when we’ve found all the shards and beaten Naraku, I… I think it would be best for you if-“

“Don’t you dare!” she said, her eyes incredulous. “Don’t you dare say that I should stay apart from you! When I promised to stay by your side Inuyasha, did you think I didn’t mean forever? Did you think they were just pretty words?!”

He shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut tight. “No, but… I nearly lost it when I thought you were gonna die Kagome, and I-.”

“News flash Inuyasha! People die in this time too! Look at my mother – her and Papa were so happy together, and he died. Modern medicine couldn’t save him even though we loved him and needed him. Does that mean everyone should keep apart from the people they love? Should we both be unhappy just because something bad might happen? Huh?!”

Inuyasha worriedly tried to soothe her with his hands, stroking her shoulders but she shrugged him off, her eyes snapping even as she took deep gulping breaths of air.

“No! It means the exact opposite! We should hold onto people we love so tightly, because we never know when they might be taken away. We should cherish every moment! I love you Inuyasha! And if you think I will let you push me away-“

Another coughing fit stopped her tirade, and he rubbed her back, getting ready to place the mask back over her face. The machine next to the bed began to beep faster, irritating him. She pushed his hand away, and he growled.

“For fucks sake, just hold on, would ya? I know ya wanna yell at me, but you can’t do that if ya can’t breathe stupid!” he huffed, securing the mask back over her face. “Just concentrate on taking deep breaths. That’s it. That’s my good girl.” Kagome’s eyes filled with tears, and he brushed them away gently with his thumbs, but more kept coming, and he gazed at her with a heartbroken expression, blinking away tears of his own.

“I didn’t mean to make you sad Kagome. It’s just… watchin’ you be so sick – I’ve never been so scared. It made me realise that I couldn’t lose you. I just couldn’t. And I thought, if there was some way that I could prevent that sickness happenin’ again, even though it would hurt me so much to let you go, I just…” He gulped, unable to go any further, swallowing his own emotions as he brushed his thumbs on her cheeks.

She closed her eyes breathing deeply for a few moments. “Being apart from you would hurt me more than anything else”, she whispered, panting as she spoke. “Please don’t pull away from me now, not when we’re so much closer. Please.”

He whined at the heartbroken tone in her voice, desperate to fix it. Mama’s voice spoke softly behind them.

“Kagome is right you know. No one knows how much time we’ll be given with those we love. It’s very easy to take that time for granted.” She moved quietly into the room, sitting down on the chair next to Inuyasha. Her voice was serious, but not sad.

“But it sounds like you two won’t ever do that. And it also sounds like you still have time to be able to make decisions about what happens after your quest, however long it takes. But whatever happens, it’s important to make those decisions together.”

Inuyasha sighed and nodded, dropping his hands away from Kagome’s face to grasp her hands in his. He wished he didn’t have the stupid paper mask on so he could kiss her fingers.

“Alright”, he muttered gruffly, sniffing quietly. “One thing at a time, wench. Let’s just get you better first, huh?”

Kagome gave him a watery smile, almost hidden by the breathing mask. She squeezed his fingers tightly, as if to show him she wouldn’t be letting him go in a hurry.

“Alright.”

💕

Inuyasha walked slowly and carefully along the thin dirt track, worn through the grass by years of villagers footsteps between the village and the Bone-Eaters Well. He leaned forward a little, not wanting to dislodge his sleeping cargo.

It had been just over a week since he’d carried Kagome back through the well in that desperate dash from Kaede’s isolation hut, and today was the first time he'd brought her back to his time. She’d only been out of hospital for two days, and even though her health was much improved, she still got out of breath easily and tired quickly.

She’d had a short visit to school this morning, just enough to see her teachers and pick up assignments for her subjects. Her mother had taken her, and he’d waited at the shrine at their insistence, sitting in the branches of Goshinboku and fretting about being apart from her.

All his senses were constantly attuned to her now – smelling her scent to make sure the illness wasn’t returning, listening to her heartbeat and breathing, needing to be close by so he could see that she was okay and reach out and touch her. He knew he was smothering her a little, but he couldn’t help it. Last night he’d sat outside the bathroom while she soaked in the tub, on alert just in case she dozed off in the water, and she’d almost tripped over him when she came out.

She’d understood his constant monitoring of her to some extent, but she was beginning to get a little exasperated at him. He was pretty sure if he kept it up, there’d be a solid string of ‘osuwari’ commands in his immediate future. But he couldn’t help it – she’d been so ill and still wasn’t quite recovered and probably wouldn’t be back to her full stamina for some weeks yet, and it brought out every protective instinct he had.

When Kagome and Mama had returned from school, Kagome had the bright idea of coming back to see the others, to show them she was okay. Her mother had agreed that a quick visit should be fine under Inuyasha’s watchful eye, even though he’d wanted to veto it, but he’d been helpless against Kagome’s pleading. It seemed he was turning into a spineless lap dog every time Kagome turned those persuasive blue eyes his way, and he wasn’t entirely upset about it.

Even though Inuyasha had been popping backwards and forwards through the well daily to keep everyone informed about Kagome’s progress, her arrival had provoked much excitement. Her friends had been delighted to see the physical proof that Kagome was on the mend.

Kirara and Shippou had burst out of Kaede’s hut the moment they sensed her drawing near, Kirara winding herself around Kagome’s ankles in greeting, and Shippou bouncing about more like frog than a fox. It was only Inuyasha’s warning growl that he would take Kagome home again if he couldn’t be calm around her that had settled the tiny kit down.

Kaede had welcomed them both into her home with warm smiles and the offer of tea. Sango had pounced on Kagome with a delighted hug, eager to talk and reconnect with her best friend, and Miroku was there with a grin and a brotherly pat on her shoulder, pleased to see her looking so much better.

They had visited with everyone at Kaede’s hut for an hour, Kagome chatting happily with everyone, but the moment she had yawned Inuyasha had been insistent on taking her home again.

Shippou had clung to her tearfully, but she’d assured him that Inuyasha would bring her back again tomorrow, and she’d stay longer. Her promise of a treat had probably helped dry his tears also, Inuyasha thought. He snorted. Shippou was nothing if not predictable.

A gradual increase in the speed of Kagome’s heartbeat had him looking over his shoulder as she stirred back to wakefullness, rubbing her cheek against his shoulder. He watched her yawn out of the corner of his eye, and smiled as she rested her chin on his shoulder, pressing her soft cheek against his.

“Oh look, how pretty!” she said quietly, mindful that her mouth was very close to his sensitive ears. “Do you think we can stop for a little while?” She pointed over to the grassy meadow near the well, which was currently filled with pink and purple cosmos flowers, swaying in the gentle breeze, and dozens of butterflies flitting about in the bright sunshine.

“I dunno”, he grumbled. “You’ve already been out all morning. This has been a busy day for you – ya only got outta bed for the first time the day before yesterday.”

“Please Inu? I promise I’ll be good! It’s so cloudy in Tokyo at the moment, and the weather report said it was going to rain this afternoon. It would be nice to sit in the sun for a little while, and I’m sure it would be good for me!” she wheedled in a pleading tone.

He sighed. “Okay, just for a bit then.” The phrase ‘whipped’ came to mind, but when she reached up to gently stroke his ear as a thank you, he found he didn’t care in the slightest.

Walking over to a particularly lush patch of grass, half in and half out of the sunshine, he eased her down off his back and they both sat down. Inuyasha sat up straight with his arms braced so Kagome could lean on him as a back rest.

It really was a beautiful day – birds chirping, clouds drifting far above in a sapphire blue sky. A pair of dark swallowtail butterflies fluttered directly overhead, and he tipped his head back to watch them, the iridescent colours in their wings flashing in the sunlight. A thought crossed his mind that he would never have really sat down to enjoy a grassy meadow like this before meeting Kagome. His mind would have been on where his next meal was coming from, his eyes, ears and nose vigilant to catch any traces of other youkai entering his forest. But now all his senses were trained on her.

He focused for a moment on the warm weight of her leaning against him, the regular movement of the muscles in her back as she breathed in and out. There was still a slight wheeziness to her breathing, but nothing like it had been before. The sun went behind a cloud and she shivered slightly.

“You’re not cold are ya? Cause I can take you back through the well right now if ya are”, he fussed.

“Stop it will you? Mother hen!” Kagome elbowed him hard in the ribs, and he grunted, clutching his side and pretending to be mortally wounded as he flopped down to lay on his back in the grass next to her. He squinted as the sun came back out from behind the clouds suddenly, and she shaded his eyes from the bright sunlight with her hand as she giggled. “Let me just enjoy the sunshine for a little while longer. I’m perfectly fine. It’s nice sitting outside after being in bed for nearly a week.”

She leaned over him to cast his face in shadow, her hands either side of his shoulders and a bright grin on her face. The light behind her gave her dark hair a radiant halo, picking out iridescent blue highlights much like the butterflies’ wings, and her clear blue eyes were more luminous than the skies above. He stared up at her, a rush of emotion welling up, filling his heart. She was so beautiful, inside and out. This girl. His sweet girl.

Reaching up he cupped her cheek, and she turned her head to place a soft kiss in his palm. Even though he’d hated that she’d been ill, they were so much closer now. All his barriers had fallen away – he was an open book to her now, and he wanted to be.

“Kagome… you know I’m not good with words, but-“. Her finger pressed down on his lips.

“Don’t use your words then” she whispered. “You’re much better at showing than talking Inuyasha, you always have been. Show me what you want to tell me.”

“C’mere then wench.” His clawed fingers curled around the red tie of her school uniform shirt, gently tugging her downwards to press his lips softly to hers.

She whimpered, her voice and her scent conveying to him just how much she wanted this too. It seemed like they had been dancing around their feelings forever, but there had never been the time or space to allow it to happen, with constant interruptions. But right now, nothing was going to stop him showing her the things he was never able to say, the emotions he’d tried to hide up until now, the absolute wealth of adoration that he held in his heart for her.

The first touch of their lips was intoxicating to him, and his mouth moved hungrily, savouring their connection. Her lips were soft and sweet, just like he’d always imagined them to be, and he couldn’t resist sucking gently on her bottom lip, fangs scraping slightly as he slid the tip of his tongue over the plump pink flesh. He almost pulled back in surprise when her own tongue tentatively met his. His youki rose as her scent spiked, and he eagerly deepened the kiss, growling his approval, unable to hold back any longer.

Kagome traced the contours of his face with her fingertips as they kissed, and he took her hand in his, entwining their fingers. He reveled in the weight of her over him, their racing hearts almost beating in tandem. With his fervent kisses he desperately tried to convey the depth of his feelings, and she responded in kind, her own lips eager as his.

Stroking her hair with his free hand, his claws grazing against her skin now and again, Inuyasha sighed against her lips, knowing that he would have to pull back soon, as much as they both wanted to keep this going. She was still recovering, and her breathing was becoming erratic. He would not rush this. They had time now, time to let this happen gradually, at their own pace.

He pulled back from the kiss, grinning at her little whine of discontent even as she panted for breath, and he soothed her by pressing soft kisses along her jawline, then nuzzled his nose into her neck, inhaling the heady scent of her as he struggled to get his own breathing and libido under control.

“You okay?” he whispered, using his hand to gently lay her head down on his chest, combing his fingers through her dark hair.

“Wow”, she panted.“Just gotta… catch my breath. We’re gonna do that again, right?”

He chuckled. “Definitely, if I have any say in it.”

They lay there together in the sunshine, holding each other close. Time didn’t seem to matter. Nothing mattered, apart from the feel of her lying safe against his chest, her heart beating strongly against his. He pressed his nose into her hair, breathing in her scent. The contented rumble in his chest made Kagome grin, turning her head to rest her chin against his chest.

“I love that sound”, she smiled, gazing into his eyes. “I love how it makes me feel, like nothing bad could ever happen when I’m in your arms.”

“Damn straight.” He swallowed, taking a deep breath. “Cause… cause you’re mine Kagome, and I protect what’s mine.”

Her smile widened, rivaling the sun in it’s brightness. “And you’re mine Inuyasha, and don’t you forget it.” She yawned widely, her eyes blinking, and he reached up to cradle her cheek.

“Sounds like you need a nap wench-o-mine.” She smiled sleepily.

“I am a little tired. What a good thing you’re so comfy”, she teased, poking at his stomach with her fingers and rubbing her cheek against his chest.

“Oi! What am I now, a futon?” he chuckled. She breathed deeply and closed her eyes, snuggling in to get comfortable.

“Shhh, futon’s don’t talk.”

“Are ya sure you don’t want me to take you back through the well?” he asked with concern. “It’s gettin’ later in the afternoon, and your bed’s probably better for ya right now.”

“Nope. Nothing could be better for me than being right here with you. Now shush.”

He listened as her breathing settled and her heartbeat slowed to a steady resting pace. The shade of the tree moved over them, and he wrapped his arms around her, the voluminous sleeves of his fire rat acting as a protective blanket as she slept contentedly in his arms.

He didn’t know what he’d done to deserve her; he’d never really understood what she could see in him that he’d never been able to see himself. All he knew was that he would thank the Kami every damn day that she’d somehow come into his life, against all odds, and he would freely give her his heart and soul. Would continue to protect her with his life as they fought this battle against Naraku together.

He was still worried about what might happen after the jewel was purified, but for now, he was content to let the future look after itself. Because how could his future be anything but bright, with Kagome by his side.

#mamabearcat fanfics #inukag fanfic #Instinct #last chapter - finally!

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jj-lives · 4 years

Text

Ash Inktober -Bmblb

3 days in a row is crazy. Hopefully I can keep up this pace.

-------------------------------------------

Yang had gotten into the habit of leaving her phone beside her pillow when she slept. Six months prior she would have left it on her nightstand or even across the room to allow her an uninterrupted sleep. But now she kept it close when she crawled beneath the sheets. She enjoyed Blake being the last person she spoke to before closing her eyes, even if some nights it was through text and not voice. So her phone always remained beside her pillow where she would hear Blake’s replies late at night when her normal exhausted mind would ignore the random beeps and pings. The vibration at least woke her.

She was never as glad of her new habit as she was tonight. Yang would never forgive herself if she’d missed the call. Not sparing time to change out of her sleep shorts she threw on a jacket and jumped into her shoes, forgoing socks as they would take time she did not have. Grabbing her keys she turned to rush out the door, stopping briefly before grabbing her leather bike jacket, just in case.

Her mind was spinning as she pulled up behind the orange barricade. She couldn’t remember the past fifteen minutes it took her to get here. She could only think of one thing.

Blake.

Jumping out of the truck she rushed past the barricade and a few late night onlookers. The smell of smoke pervaded her senses causing her to cough to clear her lungs of the heavy feeling. There were a few dozen people walking around wrapped in shining foil blankets the emergency crews always handed out. Yang focused on every one that she passed.

Where was she?

“Fuck.”

Uncharacteristically swearing as she noticed she’d left her phone in the car, grabbing only her keys and leather jacket. Down the block she could see a row of fire trucks and ambulances, lights flashing so bright she could see into the apartments across the road. Ash still fell like burning embers of snow in the orange lights of the emergency vehicles. Dread filled Yang as she took in the gaping hole at the side of the structure. Three apartment’s blackened belongings on display. Her knees nearly failed her as she spotted the charred remains of Blake’s reading chair.

Yang prayed that Blake hadn’t fallen asleep in that chair as was her habit.

Pushing through the growing crowd of people picking up stranded loved ones Yang made her way to the row of flashing trucks. As she rounded the third ambulance she heard her name.

“Yang.”

The rasp in her girlfriend’s voice was not caused by lack of sleep and it shattered Yang’s already fragile resolve. Tears forced burning trails to her jawline.

“Blake!” She looked so small and frail sitting outside the back of the ambulance with an oxygen mask that had she not called her name, Yang wasn’t sure she would have recognized her. Rushing forward all she wanted to do was hold her, but she paused, scared of touching her. “Are you hurt?”

“She shouldn’t talk much. She’s inhaled quite a bit of smoke.” The medic spoke up from inside the truck. “Are you the girlfriend?”

“Yes.”

Nodding he jumped down unwrapping a sheet of gauze. Yang’s heart throbbed painfully in her chest.

“Where are you hurt?” She asked, stepping closer to Blake.

“Please give us some room.” The medic gently laid a hand on Yang’s shoulder, guiding her to take a step back. “It’s just a bit of heat rash. I’m just going to bandage it to protect the sensitive skin as it starts to heal. Okay?”

Blake nodded, giving consent as she shrugged the foil blanket off her shoulders and held her left arm out to the medic. Before the gauze covered it Yang could see the skin was an angry red.

It could have been worse.

Yang repeated the words in her head to calm her own fraying nerves. Blake didn’t need her to be an emotional mess. But the words did nothing but cause her to picture what could have happened. She could have lost her.

The familiar warmth of Blake’s hand covered her clenched fist, bringing Yang back from the horrific images in her mind.

“I’m okay.” She wheezed.

“Don’t speak, okay.”

Yang unclenched her fist to hold Blake’s hand firmly in her own. Blake squeezed back, strong as ever. And as Yang took the time to really look she could see Blake’s strength shining in her eyes. Yang smiled.

“You scared me.” Blake smiled back through the plastic covering her nose and mouth. “Don’t do this again, okay?”

“You got here quickly.” The medic spoke up as he secured the bandage.

“I may have broken the speed limit a couple times.”

Yang ducked her head, only looking up when a firm pull to her arm almost toppled her. Blake glared up at her angrily.

“Well I don’t have to admonish you for speeding. Looks like you’re going to get berated enough on the subject from this one.” The medic chuckled, turning to Blake. “But not tonight.”

Blake nodded reluctantly as the medic disappeared into the truck. She shot Yang a warning glare but Yang couldn’t wipe the smile off her face. All the lectures about safe driving would be welcomed. At least Blake was here to lecture her, when it could have turned out differently.

Returning with two bottles he handed one to Yang. “Take the bandage off tomorrow and apply this to the area. It will help the skin to heal and protect it since it will be very sensitive.” Yang nodded, taking the advice very seriously.

“And you need to drink this before I release you.” He turned to Blake handing her a bottle. “You’re dehydrated.”

Blake tried to unscrew the cap with her one hand, not wanting to let go of Yang, but her injured arm wasn’t cooperating. Yang let out a humoured snort that garnered her another indignant glare. Shoving the ointment into her jacket pocket, Yang grabbed the top of the bottle with her free hand and twisted until the cap released.

Blake pulled the mask aside and took three large gulps of the water. When she put the bottle up to her mouth again the medic stopped her.

“I know you must be in a hurry to get out of here. I would be too.” He said warmly. “But try not to rush drinking this. And you still need to get your oxygen levels up a little higher before I would like to let you go.”

“I’ll make sure she slows down if you need to look after another.”

“I need to take this to my coworker as he’s run out.” He held up another small tank of oxygen and a mask. “But I’ll be back in a few minutes to check her vitals once more.”

Both nodded as he took his leave.

Knowing Blake was safe and reasonably unharmed allowed Yang to finally relax for the first time since the phone woke her. As the adrenaline left her her muscles started giving way. Her legs shook so hard with exhaustion even Blake noticed. She pulled Yang closer so she could sit beside her. Yang placed a kiss to the top of Blake’s head as she rested it against her shoulder. No matter how tired this ordeal had made Yang, she was sure Blake was feeling it tenfold.

Blake alternated between taking sips of water and breathing in the oxygen the medic told her she needed. As diligent a patient as she was a student.

“I’m so glad you’re safe.”

Turning her head, Blake pulled her mask lower as she placed a gentle kiss to Yang’s cheek. She looked to want to say something but Yang moved the mask back into place.

“The sooner those vitals are up the sooner we can get you home for some sleep.”

Blake nodded but still seemed reluctant to let whatever she wanted to say go. She looped circles against Yang’s palm with her thumb irritatedly before giving up. With a heavy sigh she took another sip of water.

Leaning her head on Yang’s shoulder once more she smiled as she squeezed Yang’s hand tightly three times.

The medic returned and after checking her oxygen levels released her telling Yang to make sure she continued to drink water regularly and reminded her of the ointment in her pocket. Leaving the blanket behind Yang draped her leather jacket over Blake’s shoulders and led her to the truck.

She made sure Blake was buckled safely before she closed the door and made her way to the driver’s seat. Once the truck roared to life she made sure to turn on Blake’s heated seat before she made a U-turn. Blake dozed the twenty minute ride to the apartment and Yang was reluctant to wake her as the pulled into the apartment’s parking garage.

Blake rubbed her eyes sleepily as Yang gently slid the seatbelt across her shoulder.

“You smell like smoke.” Yang whispered and Blake scoffed. “Do you want to take a quick shower before bed? I can wrap the bandage in plastic for now.”

Pulling her hair to her nose Blake took a deep breath. The bridge of her nose wrinkled at the unpleasant smell. She nodded at Yang’s previous offer before opening the door and climbing out.

They entered the apartment quietly, not wanting to wake Ruby and deal with the mounds of questions she was bound to ask. Yang led her to the bathroom and sat her down on the side of the bathtub as she gathered the material she needed to protect the bandage.

Blake placed a gentle kiss on Yang’s lips as she secured plastic to her arm with pieces of bandage tape. It was a pleasant surprise which caused a rare blush to form. Yang gave Blake some privacy handing her a towel and a shirt and shorts to sleep in. Changing her own smoke scented clothes while Blake was in the shower Yang crawled into bed to wait.

It only took Blake a few minutes to wash the smoke down the drain and join Yang. She crawled between the sheets and immediately moulded herself to Yang’s side.

“I like when you’re clingy.” Yang whispered in her ear as she wrapped an arm firmly around her.

Blake snuggled closer, grabbing hold of Yang’s hand. She interlocked their fingers and brought them to rest at her chest. Yang smiled as Blake squeezed her hand exactly three times before she fell into a much needed rest.

#bumbleby #inktober #ash #fanfic #my writing

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imthedoctorlove · 4 years

Text

Skin Deep (Soulmate AU) (Part 4) 13th Doctor x Reader x Dhawan!Master

Well, this took a completely different turn to what I had planned, but then I realised: when do I ever follow a plan?

I want to once again thank you all for the love you have shown the first three parts of Skin Deep. You have no idea how much it means to me. I am my own biggest critic and constantly believe that my work is not good enough, but reading your comments has made me realise that it is. I just hope this next part lives up to expectations.

I would also like to give a massive thank you and shout out to @theaussietimelord for the amazing edit! Look how awesome it is!

Warnings - Strangling, choking, lots of angst.

Tag list -

@whittakerjodie @icarusinstatic @wonders-of-the-multiverse @oswildin @imagine-whatever @madelineannmolder @koschei-taylor

Please feel free to message me if you want me to add you to the tag list. apologises if I missed anyone off.

P.s - apologise for any errors.

—

(Y/n) gasped as the Master lunged at her and wrapped his hand around her throat. The force caused her to fall backwards and off the sofa, bringing the Master with her. She stared up at him, frozen by the intensity of the way he was looking at her as if she was the thing he despiced most in the universe. The hand around her neck tightened. Panic coursed through her. Her hand gripped the one her neck as she tried to pull it off, but he was too strong for her. It didn’t help the fact that his entire body weighed on hers, restricting the use of her lungs.

“Master! You’re - you’re hurting me!” The use of his name did nothing, but make him squeeze harder. She gasped out as her oxygen supply got less and less.

Her vision began to darken as her breath became short pants. He’s going to kill me. She tried in vain to free her legs to give her leverage to get him off, but the lack of oxygen added to her already weakened state. Her lungs were on fire! Tears streamed down her face as her thoughts turned to the Doctor. Did she know what was happening? Did she even care? She didn’t know if it would work, but she concentrated on the mark that branded her right arm and held the image of her in mind. Help me. She was ready to give up. Her body suddenly jerked with a renewed energy. The pressure from around her throat suddenly released and the weight from her body was lifted. (Y/n)’s lungs drunk in the oxygen that had been denied for too long. The last thing she saw before exhaustion to its hold was the Master’s distressed expression as he reached for her.

“(Y/n)!” The Doctor gasped as she stumbled into the writing desk in the extravagant room she had found herself in. The people who were with her became alarmed as she seemed to grasp at an invisible hand around her neck. She knew that it would do no good, but instinct caused her to nearly tear her own throat out. Both of her soulmate marks blazed angrily. He’s going to kill her. The realisation that she could do nothing to save her caused her to collapse.

“Doctor!” Ada exclaimed as she helped her over to the sofa.

The Doctor’s vision glazed over and all she could see was the Master’s crazed eyes. “Master.” She wheezed as the pressure around her windpipe tightened. There was no way to reach him now; he was too far gone. All of her hope began to slip away, but then she heard it, a whisper. Help me. The sound of her voice awoke something in The Doctor as she reached out to her. With great strain on her part she pushed the last remnants of her energy through the link between that was hanging on by a thread.

The invisible grip around her neck suddenly vanished and she fell down on the bed gulping down oxygen.

—

What have I done?

The Master reached for his broken soulmate only for her to cower away from him before losing consciousness. He gathered her limp body into his arms and winced when he saw the dark purple bruise that was forming on her neck. He had tried so hard not to lose himself, but he still failed. He should had known better. Why didn’t he just tell her about the intricates of their bond? And now he was going to lose her too. There was no way he could atone for this; he nearly killed her! He placed her on the sofa and kneeled down next to her. Guilt weighed down his hearts. He glared at the hand that had caused her harm and wished to cut it from his body. Pained breaths passed through (Y/n)’s chapped lips as his eyes glossed over. A soft glow illuminated from his tainted hand and gently covered the bruise. (Y/n) jerked as regeneration energy seeped into her neck. Her breathing slowly became normal as he lifted his hand away to reveal soft, unblemished skin.

An alarm sounded from the console and the Master sprung up to see what had set it off. His hands clenched into fists when he discovered that the silver lady had been activated and there was only one person who could have done it.

“Oh, you no you don’t.” Getting to work on tracking where the silver lady had sent her focused his mind away from his unyielding loathing of himself.

—

The Doctor caught his attention by using the special code only known to them. They agreed to meet at the Eiffel tower.

“Where is she!?” The Doctor seethed as soon as she saw him.

“Is that it? No hello?” The Master clutched the railing in front of him, his gaze remaining fixed on the burning city below. He couldn’t bring himself to look at her. “She’s fine.” He finally said.

“Fine? You nearly killed her! I felt it! Enlighten me, please because I am struggling to understand, why did you do it?”

“I don’t know - It just happened.”

“It. Just. Happened.” The Doctor spat his words back out to him.

The Master finally turned to look at him finding no point in concealing his tears that were threatening to fall.

“She called me by my name. I never - I never thought that it would have such an effect on me, considering the fact she has yet to speak my real name.” His eyes fell closed as if to punish himself from looking upon the flame he fought so hard to put out, but here she was still blazing bright and here he was still find himself drawn towards her, like a moth to a flame.

The Doctor was taken aback by his expression and tried to recall the last time he had been this vulnerable in front of her. Her gaze softened as she stepped closer to him. The Master let out a shuddering breath as he felt her soft hands cup his face.

“Look at me.” Chestnut met hazel. “Come away with me.” She whispered. “It can just be the three of us, no one else. Stop all this and come away with me Please.”

He knew deep down that something was holding him back, but he would never reveal this information to her or anyone. He covered her hands with his gloved ones and was ready to answer, but paused when he heard a thunder of footsteps drawing close to them. The Master tore her hands away him as if he been burned. “What have you done!?” Was this her plan all along? To trap me? His hand immediately went around her throat as he forced her up against the railing. Realisation hit him that he had (Y/n) in the same position not too long ago, but it was too late to take it back. The Master saw the blazing fire of her eyes as they showed nothing, but disappointment.

“I took a trip home, to Gallifrey. Hiding in it’s little bubble universe. Not sure how to describe what I found. Pulverised. Burned. Nuked. All over the above. Someone destroyed it.” He felt himself grin as he saw the fire in her eyes extinguish into a dim ember.

“You’re lying.” The Doctor forced him away from her. She ran over to the elevator with the Master following close behind. She pulled out her sonic screwdriver and activated when pointed at his head. He groaned and fell backwards. “Your perception filter, very easy to jam. Now they’ll see the real you. Good luck.” The Master glared at her as the elevator began to descend. She ignored her mark and the pang of her hearts as she focused on one thing.

I’m coming for you, (Y/n).

#13th doctor x reader #13th doctor #13th doctor imagine #doctor who #dhawan!master x reader #master x reader x the doctor #dhawan!master imagines #dhawan master #dhawan!master #soulmate #soulmate au #reader insert #13th doctor x dhawan!master

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foxfire-midnight-wings-writing · 4 years

Text

Cigarette Smoke and- Oh Shit I Can’t Breathe

Notes: I’ve had this idea for a while now and no one really seemed to talk about it, so I’ve been trying to make more of my own content for it! (It being asthmatic Jay)

- - -

Relationships: Jay Merrick & Timothy “Tim” Wright, Jay Merrick/Timothy “Tim” Wright

Characters: Jay Merrick, Timothy “Tim” Wright

Trigger Warnings: Smoking, untreated illness, asthma/wheezing, passing out/fainting, lack of oxygen/asphyxiation, brief mention of an ER/Hospital visit

Summary: On the way to their next hotel, Jay pulls their car to the side of the road for a break. When Tim pulls out a cigarette and starts to smoke, though, things go downhill fast.

Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, some hints of Jam but not much

Word count: 2014

- - -

"This is nice... like, really nice"

Jay hummed an agreement as he looked over to Tim, who was leaning against the back of his car. "Yeah, it's peaceful. It's a nice change of pace," he sighed. They had been in the middle of moving to their next hotel and had decided to pull off to the side of the road for a break. Jay was sitting in an empty space he made in his trunk, which had taken a couple minutes of playing Tetris with both their bags and other miscellaneous items that had been thrown back there. When there was enough room, he sat in the trunk with his legs dangling over the edge. Tim had originally been sitting in the passenger's seat with the door propped open, but had moved to where he was now.

The click of a lighter caught Jay's attention. Realizing he had been staring, he looked away. He had a pretty good idea of why the lighter was out, anyways. Tim didn't seem to notice that he had been staring, but his face flushed regardless. Jay pulled a face at the smell of the smoke that blew towards him, but attempted to focus on something else so he didn't seem rude. It wasn't that he minded Tim smoking, he just couldn't handle the smell. Well, okay, that wasn't the full truth. The smoke messed with his lungs and made it hard to breathe.

He didn't think much of it, considering it went away after a couple hours of being away from the source, but that didn't mean he liked it. It was something he had grown up with, so really he should've been used to this. But every time his lungs closed up and his breath started to whistle as it came out, he just couldn't fight off the small part of himself that insisted that this wasn't normal. Another part of him argued that if something was wrong, surely his parents would've taken him to the doctor or someone else to get it checked out. It was a constant back and forth in his mind, but in the end he never did anything.

A sudden gust of wind pushed a cloud of smoke toward him. His eyes watered as he started roughly coughing. His lungs burned as he coughed, the little air he got being pushed right back out. He couldn't get any air in his lungs, and for a brief moment he worried he was going to pass out. Eventually the coughing fit passed, as did the cloud of smoke. Tim was looking at him with thinly veiled concern. It was then that he noticed that Tim had moved so his body and cigarette were blocked by the side of the car. A couple more coughs escaped from Jay, his chest slowly but surely gaining the pressure that accompanied the wheezing. Could it be called wheezing? He didn't really know if that's what it was, but he was never bothered enough to check and see.

"Jay? Are you okay?" Tim asked. Jay nodded as a reply, not trusting his voice for the moment. Another gust of wind blew past, this time faintly rocking the car. Luckily, this time no smoke was blown his way. Tim leaned over the edge of the car, raising an accusatory eyebrow his way.

"What?" Jay choked out.

"Oh, nothing, just the fact that you had an extreme coughing fit and sound like you're dying," Tim replied, shrugging his shoulders to add to the 'nonchalant' statement.

"I'm fine." Jay looked away from him, silently hoping that Tim didn't notice the tears that were in his eyes or how rough his breathing was coming out. Judging from the staring he was getting, Tim probably noticed. "Seriously," he sighed, "this isn't the first time it's happened. Plus, it was kinda your fault."

Tim rolled his eyes, "Okay, well, never mind then. Sorry I can't be concerned about my friends."

Jay paused, "Wait, we're friends?"

Tim laughed, before letting out a few coughs. Jay just stared at him, completely and utterly confused. After a pause, Tim turned towards him. "Wait a minute. Did you- did you actually think we weren't friends? Like, at all?" Jay shrugged helplessly, his previous flush returning full force. “Jay, look at me. Did you actually think we weren’t friends?”

"I mean, no? Not really? You did punch me in the face-"

"-Which you kinda deserved."

"Yeah, Which I kinda deserved, but I was going to tell you that night! Well, anyways, you punched me in a parking lot and then I did drag you back into this whole mess. I thought you were, I don't know, just coming along because you had to." Jay hung his head and tugged down his hat, attempting to hide his growing blush.

"Okay, well," Tim put his hand underneath the brim of Jay's hat and tugged it back up, "Yeah, we're friends. And that means you're stuck with me." Jay grinned as they looked at each other. The way they were positioned looked like it would’ve come out of some cheesy romance movie, but he didn’t care. Someone was finally on his side. “Also, Jay-”

Jay cut him off by accidentally choking on the cigarette smoke that was starting to surround them. Tim let out a curse and quickly stomped out his cigarette. Tears started to flood Jay’s eyes again as the burning increased throughout both his lungs and his throat. His breaths were coming in short and fast, the high pitched wheezing tearing through any other noise. Jay’s head began to feel fuzzy as his vision darkened around the edges. Everything was becoming muted, Tim’s desperate calls to him being drowned out by the ringing in his ears.

A small spike of fear peaked through the spreading numbness. ‘This definitely isn't normal’ was his last thought as the darkness and ringing overtook him.

- - -

The first thing Jay noticed was how hot his body was. It felt as if someone had poured hot water over him and left him to bear the heat alone. Next, he noticed the dull ringing in his ears slowly fading. His head felt unbearably heavy, and he could feel the tell-tale signs of a headache coming on. He groaned, lifting his hand to clutch his head.

“Jay? Jay, are you awake?” Tim called. Jay noted how his voice sounded far away, but also like it was right next to him. Instead of responding, Jay opened his eyes to glance around. Turns out he was laying across the back seat while Tim was driving.

“What happened?” Jay groaned again, opting to keep his eyes shut to help the pounding in his head.

“You nearly gave me a heart attack, that’s what.” Tim snapped. Humming in response, Jay dropped his arm back to his side. Tim continued on, “Don’t try just brushing this off, Merrick. You seriously scared me.”

“Sorry”

“Don’t-, ugh. You know what? Never mind. We’re almost there anyways.” That got Jay’s attention. Was Tim taking them back to their previous hotel? Did he continue on to try getting them to their next hotel? Where was ‘there’? Just as he was about to voice his questions the car lurched to the side as Tim spit out a curse at another driver. After a couple more quick turns and maneuvering the car around, Jay could tell they had finally parked in where Tim had wanted to take them.

Jay slowly pushed himself up and, while practically leaning all his weight on Tim, was able to slide out of the backseat and into a somewhat-standing position. Raising his head, Jay finally got a good look at where they were.

“The ER? Really?” he huffed, testing the weight on each of his legs. Tim opened his mouth to respond before shaking his head. This earned another irritated huff Jay before he was practically dragged into the building.

“Hello, how may I help you?” The receptionist smiled up at the two of them. Distantly, Jay wondered about how much of a trainwreck they both looked. He probably looked worse, considering he was the one who passed out, but he thought Tim also looked pretty frazzled.

Tim quickly explained their situation, leaving out the part where they were on the run from an eldritch abomination, and the nurses soon took Jay back into the emergency rooms. As he was leaving, he heard Tim let out a curse as a stack of paperwork was laid before him.

- - -

Jay walked back into the waiting room with the nurse who had led him back to the rooms. As they were walking, the nurse continued to explain what he needed to do. “... The inhaler that we gave you is a sample, so it only will last you about a month if you use it three times daily. Remember, try to only use it as needed.” Jay nodded his head. He wasn’t really sure how to respond to being led back into a room, having to do a bunch of breathing tests, inhale a drug he never heard of before, doing more tests, and finding out he had asthma.

He didn’t blame his parents for not realizing it sooner, but now that he was actually able to breathe properly for the first time in years it was extremely clear how much he was being affected by it. ‘Maybe that’s why I always get outran by Tim’s masked state, even though they both surely feel the effects of his smoking,’ he thought. It made sense.

He was never really able to go and get into shape because he never was able to properly breathe, but he always thought he just got winded easily. All the times he had suddenly started wheezing and being unable to breathe finally made sense, even if it was startling and intimidating news. After all, the most he knew about asthma before this was that the diagnosis was given to the stereotypical ‘nerdy’ or ‘sick’ kid in TV shows. Never before had he thought that it would be used to describe his situation.

Eventually, the nurse stopped talking and reminding him of the important notes for his new inhaler, along with them demanding that he get a prescription inhaler eventually. Jay nodded and said his thanks before heading over to where Tim sat. Jay nudged him and motioned for them to go outside. Once they were outside and back at the car, Tim turned to him expectantly. “So? How’d it go? You’re not about to pass out again anytime soon, right?”

“No,” Jay sighed, “I just found out that I apparently have asthma, though. Parents never realized, I never realized, and so I thought that the shortness of breath and the wheezing was normal.” He paused for a moment before shaking his head, “Well, okay, I just thought that I got winded easier when doing exercise. I never really had an excuse for the times I would randomly be unable to breathe.” Tim was staring at him with wide eyes, his jaw hanging open. A moment of silence passed before, “Uh, Tim?”

“You have asthma?!” Tim yelled. Jay quickly shushed him and got in the car. “Jay fucking Merrick, you better tell me what the hell you mean when you say you have asthma because if I find out that you were running around in the woods chasing masked men while not being able to breathe …” Tim trailed off with a sigh.

At this point both of them had gotten into the car but neither of them moved. Jay opted to say nothing, knowing if he tried to defend himself it would probably get Tim even more worked up and worried. Tim started the car as Jay used this time to buckle up while attempting to avoid looking over at him. The trip back to their hotel was filled with silence.

- - -

Once they got back to their hotel room, Tim finally spoke up. “Hey, Jay? Should we tell the people following us on Twitter or YouTube about this? So they… y’know, don’t worry?”

“No. Absolutely not.”

#marble hornets #Jay Merrick #tim wright #jam #hurt/comfort #jay marble hornets #marble hornets jay #asthmatic jay #tw smoking #tw fainting #tw hospitals #tw asphyxiation #tw untreated illness #fluff #fluff and hurt/comfort

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ask-dan · 4 years

Note

((Mod. Post the fic.

((Alright okay. If you don’t know about the band Ghost, you’re gonna need some context here. They’re basically a satanic church metal band of sorts (so expect satanic references n shit) who’s lead singer is like the satan pope, also called a Papa. Dan has hots for Papa III, which Tord takes advantage of. Also content warning for choking))

“What do you think, look accurate enough?” Tord asks, standing before Dan in the living room, dressed to the nines in Papal robes with gloves and face paint modeled after Papa Emeritus III. “I know it’s not Halloween just yet, but it doesn’t hurt to practice the makeup and make sure everything fits.”

Dan looks up from his GameBoy to see what Tord’s referring to, but once he lays his eyes upon Tord’s wardrobe, he’s speechless. Something deep within him clicks on and sends a blush to break out across his face.

“U-Um. It uh, it looks great-” He manages to say after a bit of hesitation. His blush and struggle to speak immediately piques Tord’s interest, so he steps forward towards him slowly to see how he’d react, getting close enough for their shoes to touch.

“You sure? I don’t think the face paint is clean enough, why not get a closer look?” He bends down so his face is a mere inch away from Dan’s. He watches as Dan’s face only gets redder, his breathing quickening a bit as well.

“Nope, l-looks good to me-!” He tries to back away, but is only able to go so far before the couch stops him.

“Aww, what’s the matter?” Tord smirks, about to lay the ultimate trap card. “Afraid of upsetting your Papa?”

Dan shudders at Tord’s choice of words. His legs shift as he tries to push back, but he’s trapped. He knows Tord is aware of his effect on him, but he doesn’t stop. “No worries my little ghoul-” he begins closing the already small gap between them, “-I know what you want.”

He rests his hand on Dan’s cheek and closes his eyes as their lips meet. Dan goes to put his hand on Tord, but he’s stopped.

“Ah ah my little ghoul, let your Papa handle this.” He gently pushes Dan’s hand away and continues the kiss. This position is killing his back though, so he pulls away and takes his place on the couch next to Dan. “Come, sit on your Papa’s lap.” He smiles and pats his lap to further entice Dan, though it wasn’t entirely necessary as he was gonna go regardless.

Now nestled in his Papa’s lap with their legs perpendicular to each other, Dan looks sheepishly to Tord, who could not look more smug if he tried. Tord pulls him back in for another kiss, resting one gloved hand on his back and letting the other explore Dan’s legs. He runs his fingertips over the inseam of his pants, gently pressing them in a few times the further up his thigh he reaches. He can feel Dan begin to tense up and shift a bit as he continues, getting the impression that he’d like to go a bit further.

Taking mercy on the poor soul, Tord moves Dan to where he’s laying on the couch in front of him. He undoes the button and zipper on Dan’s pants and pulls them down just enough to where he can get at Dan’s underwear. He slides them down as well and begins to rub his outer lips just a bit before sliding his middle finger up and down through Dan’s slit. He can’t feel anything through his glove, but he can tell how eager Dan is just by looking at him. He continues this for a good minute, getting Dan panting and quietly moaning already. Once he feels he’s had enough, he very slowly pushes his finger tip into Dan’s entrance, watching him shift and squirm and seeing his face heat up further as he makes eye contact with Tord. His eyes seem pleading as if he’s begging for more. Tord obliges and inserts the rest of his finger into Dan, getting knuckle deep. Dan bites his lip, trying to stay relatively quiet, but that’s not what Tord wants to see.

“It’s okay my ghoul, sing for your Papa, let our Father in Hell hear your beautiful voice.”

Dan nods at his request, taking a shaky breath and parting his lips to allow whatever sounds may come out. Pleased with his obedience, Tord continues prepping Dan. He slowly slides his finger in and out of him with long, slow strokes. Dan is much more vocal now, which Tord absolutely adores hearing. His pants and gasps fill the air and only get louder as he picks up the pace, his slow strokes becoming faster and less steady. Dan’s starting to tense up more, feeling himself ready to burst, but before he can Tord removes his finger.

“Noo…” Dan whines, but Tord only shushes him.

“Patience, my ghoul, patience. Trust your Papa knows what he’s doing.”

He pulls Dan’s pants and underwear the rest of the way off of him before he undoes enough of his own costume to pop his dick out. He pushes Dan’s legs apart just a bit more before sliding into him as far as he can. Dan makes a half gasp-moan in response, not expecting him to be that long. Although since he’s not as wide as Tom is, it doesn’t take as much time for Dan to give the okay for him to go. Tord slowly and methodically times his thrusts into Dan, gradually building up speed. Dan, having already been on the brink of climax, is getting closer to his finish a lot faster than Tord is. But as he mentioned, he knows what he’s doing. Going based on how loud Dan’s moans are, Tord waits until Dan’s almost there before stopping all movement.

“Fuck- Papa, please!” He stares pleadingly at Tord,

“Please what, my ghoul?” He returns Dan’s desperate plea with his own sarcasm

“Keep going..” Dan mutters, making a vague grabby motion with his hands.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that. We must cum together for Lucifer’s son, but I’m not nearly close enough.” Tord says only a little patronizingly. “I could keep teasing you until I finally get there, but we’d have to start and stop so many times. How’s about instead...:” He reaches down and pulls Dan into a sitting position by the neck of his hoodie. “...you help me out here?”

Dan looks up at Tord, but there’s no sympathy in his eyes. He knows what he must do. He takes Tord’s dick into his mouth a bit hesitantly, but before he can do much, Tord takes control. He pulls Dan’s hair tight in his fist and shoves himself down into Dan’s throat. Dan gags and sputters, but Tord doesn’t take notice. The sound of him helplessly choking on his cock as he fucks his throat is too enticing for him to stop. Dan has a death grip on Tord’s legs, trying to signal him to slow down, but as he continues, Dan’s grip lightens. The lack of oxygen makes him weaker, which is just perfect for his Papa. He continues facefucking him until he can tell he’s about to pass out. At just the right time, Tord pushes Dan off, allowing him to fall back on the couch. He coughs and gasps for air, unable to get it in fast enough. Taking advantage of his opportunity though, Tord inserts himself back into Dan and pounds into him with reckless abandon. Dan tries to scream, but he can’t catch his breath long enough to do it. A silent wheeze is all that’s heard from Dan as he reaches the strongest orgasm he’s ever felt in his life. Tord follows soon after, filling his little ghoul with copious amounts of his seed.

They both remain almost motionless, save for their panting. It takes a good minute or so for them to come down from their respective highs and a little longer for Dan to catch his breath, but once they can both speak, they share a look

“How was that my dear?” Tord smiles lovingly at Dan, proud of how good of a sport he was during all of that.

“Good…” is all Dan can manage at the moment. Tord pulls out of Dan, spilling his cum onto the couch cushion under them. Tord makes a note to clean that up later before going to pick up Dan.

“C’mon Dan, let’s get you in the shower.”

#ad ask #ad dan #ad tord #ad writing #ad polydan #aubdawgdrawz

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elricsyao · 4 years

Text

Facing Death Chapter 14

Summary: Edward knows the feeling of death very well. He wouldn't feel its icy claws again until he was 14.

O: rA string of murders and a strange request leave Edward in over his head imprisoned many miles away from his loved ones. Will he be able to escape his prison or will he break and be killed?Parental!Royed!, Edwin, some Royai! Rated T for blood and gore and Eventual violent scenes

AO3

ff.net

Words: 6153

Snow fell swiftly and quietly around the moonlit night, blanketing the earth. It was much too quiet for the young blond as he stared past the hole in the fence, brow furrowed and golden eyes filled with anguish.

Ed inhaled skaily, causing his exhale to mist in the falling snow. He shoved his numb fingers into his pockets. His gaze fell to his feet, eyes slipping shut as he tried to tell himself that the pain in his chest would disappear in time.

He quickly blinked away any remnants of tears; they’d do him no good. He’d done the right thing, it would take time to get used to being alone, but he’d get through like he always did, one day at a time.

You’ll see him again; this isn’t the last time, Ed reminded himself. He’d find the boy someday; maybe by then, Ryler will have forgiven him and understood the reasons. That was the most he could hope for because he couldn’t live with feeling like his father.

Nope. No, no way in hell you’re going to to start thinking about that bastard, Ed

Ed nudged the thought away, pushing it into the deep recesses of his mind. Now was not the time to think about long-buried meaningless issues.

He turned his face up to the sky, distantly he heard the voices of the escapees on their way to freedom. The snow began to fall harder around him, causing the wind to pick up, buffeting his blond bangs around.

They need to hurry, he thought, slight panic coiling in his gut. It would be near impossible for anyone to see where they were going if they waited any longer. Ed shivered violently, wrapping his arms around him and hurried up to those still standing around it.

It seemed he wasn’t the only person that felt that way as Jack and another man were trying to convince an older woman and young boy to leave. The older woman’s face seemed to contort with fear at the thought of leaving, she glanced at Ed as he approached but kept her attention to the men in front of her.

“This is your only chance,” Jack pleaded, a hint of desperation in his voice, “they’ll kill you if you don’t escape.”

The older woman looked longingly through the fence, tightening her hold on the small boy who looked as if he didn’t understand what was happening.

Hurry up; there’s not much time left .

Ed looked behind him through the falling snow, no lights from the perimeter showed on them, he couldn’t see through the inky darkness, and there was no way of knowing how close the soldiers were.

Panic coiled in his gut at the thought, and he quickened his pace to the group.

“You need to leave now,” Ed ground out through gritted teeth, slightly startling the small group at his appearance. “There’s no time, either you leave and survive, or you stay here and die. What’s it going to be?” he snapped.

Tears filled the woman’s eyes, and suddenly she burst into tears.

No, no, no! There wasn’t time for this! She didn’t have time to cry; Ed didn’t realize he’d moved until he was nearly nose to nose with the older woman, grasping her arm firmly but not hard enough to bruise. He stepped through the hole, and the older woman followed, surprise coating her features.

“You have to go now! They will kill you; you’re useless to them.” Ed snapped, eyes blazing with a slight hint of panic. Yet the woman didn’t move, and Ed felt desperation overtake his mind. It clawed at his heart, and it took all of him not to start screaming at the woman.

His breathing picked up, and he began to take in quick, panicked breaths that burned his lung from the freezing air. No, no, no, this couldn’t happen now. He couldn’t afford to spiral into a panic attack now; he had to get through this. He repeated it to himself, even as his chest grew tight and his heart began to pound in his chest.

“You have to go,” He managed through gasped breaths, “Please,” It was desperate, but he didn’t care. He was sure his face held the panic that was tearing his insides apart piece by piece.

A brief pause, then the old woman nodded. She looked down at the small boy beside her and then nodded again, and Ed just about collapsed with relief. She walked as quickly as she could to the treeline, then turned and yelled, “Spasibo!”

But Ed had already turned, stumbling back through the hole, fisting his shirt as he tried to breathe. He was shaking, he realized. The woman was gone, but the panic wasn’t leaving, only tightening its hold on his already overtaxed mind.

His vision tunneled, heart roaring in ears. He realized his breaths were coming way too fast, and he choked. His eyes widened, and he slumped onto his side in the fallen snow. The cold seeped into his bones, causing his trembling to worsen.

I can’t breathe; I can’t breathe.

The realization caused the vice gripping his chest to tighten its hold, leaving him gasping. Each breath grew shallower than the last, and he clawed and scratched at his chest, anything for the precious air.

His muscles spasmed, and the pain nearly caused him to choke. His lips parted, chest heaving for oxygen that wasn’t coming. A shuddering gasp found its way through the seeming lack of oxygen.

I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe.

Through the pounding of his heartbeat and sputtering gasps of agony, voices called out to him; they seemed muted like his ears were filled with water.

A sharp whimper escaped from him because, please, I don’t want to die. I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe, I don’t want to die.

The sensation of someone touching his shoulder managed to break through his panic. He flinched, fog clearing momentarily to focus on the two men in front of him. Their panicked expressions faded in and out through his wheezing and gasping.

“Ed, kid. Talk to me, what’s going on?” A voice broke through the fog, and Ed latched onto it, anchoring himself into reality for the moment.

“I一” Ed sputtered, his mind drawing a blank. “Panic attack.” The vice suddenly lifted just as quickly as it appeared, and he could breathe again.

The exhaustion hit Ed all at once, turning his limbs to lead. His head lolled into the snow, feeling as if it weighed hundreds of pounds. Weights tugged at his eyelids, but he couldn’t allow himself to lose consciousness out here. They were finished for if he couldn’t summon the energy to close up the hole.

The hole!

“C’mon, kid, we got you,” Jack’s voice broke in through the exhaustion. He felt hands looping around his shoulders, pulling him to his feet. The world spun for a moment, and Ed’s knees nearly buckled from the exhaustion weighing him down, but the hands didn’t let him fall.

“I一I needー” Ed broke off panting, drawing icy cold air into his oxygen-starved lungs. Hush chest ached with a vengeance, protesting at the deep inhales of breath. Oh yeah, he was going to be sore as hell tomorrow. “T-The hole...I...have to close the hole.”

Ed knew he was in no condition to use alchemy, knives attacked behind his eyes, causing his temples to feel as if they had a heartbeat. He didn’t think he’d be able to stand without stumbling and falling, yet he had to.

He had to do it for those who’d escaped; Ed was not naive to think that it’d be this easy. The Drachman soldiers would go after the escapees, and he imagined that it wouldn’t take long for the soldiers to catch up. Horses were much faster than walking. That was if the Drachman’s had horses at all, and Ed was sure they did. Once they caught up, it would be a bloodbath. The freed would have no way to defend themselves.

Ryler wouldn’t get the chance to live a normal life.

“Edward一” Ed ignored the rest of the protest; he quickly made up his mind. Sluggishly, he twisted out of the man’s grip. He swayed as the world tilted and spun around him. “Ed, kid, stop!” A hand pulled on his shoulder, nearly causing him to stumble. The goal was right in front of him; he couldn’t afford to fail.

He shrugged the hand off, agonizing, gasped pants escaping from his lips. His body protested with every step. He could barely inhale when he reached the fence. “Ed, you’re in no condition to do this.” Another protest from the man behind him.

“It’s either this or they get a head start on finding them,” He snapped between a gasp, no real heat in his voice.

Ed knelt in front of the hole, arrays flashing through his mind before choosing the right one. He claps, the alchemic energy hits his fingertips immediately, blue sparks dance on his fingers. A brief smirk appears on his lips before it’s gone just as fast. Alchemy uses energy from the user, the earth, anything it can get its metaphorical hands-on, which is why he feels like he’s about a second from passing out.

He has to do this quickly and cautiously, or it’ll rebound. He breathes shallowly and rapidly, preparing his quickly fogging mind for the transmutation and the possible oncoming rebound.

Ed pressed his mismatched hands into the snow, and the transmutation began. The weakness that hit him all of a sudden was so unexpected that Ed nearly lifted his hands. He forced himself onwards, pushing through the rapidly encroaching darkness. It was almost finished....just a little more…

Bang!

Seconds before the hole is fully closed, something hard cracked against his back.

He had to have passed out for a second because, in the next moment of clarity, a boot was on his lower back, forcing him into the snow, something cold pressed into his skull. He decided that any movement would result in a bullet in his head, and he didn’t think he’d be able to move with the way his limbs only twitched, and a wet feeling spread down his back.

He didn’t have time for the pain to set in before something collided with his temple, sending him into inky blackness.

They’d be running for hours now, running through piling snow through the darkness without a light to guide them. To Rose's relief, the small boy in her arms hadn’t stirred once. She imagined that they had to have been exhausted from the day’s events if the story Ed had given her was anything to go by.

Rose braced herself against another onslaught of howling wind, groans echoing from the others around her. There was no way of telling if they were headed in the right direction or not, but the direction they’d fled had been their only choice at the time.

She looked back, gaze traveling over those with her. As the night broke to dawn, dull sunlight peeked through the clouds but not enough to broaden their visibility. They would need to find shelter and then decide where to go from there. Yet, there was no telling how long it would be before they came across anything.

“Rose,” A voice called out from behind her, breaking through the howling wind. “We need to stop.”

She stopped and turned, flinching at the snow that flew into her face, momentarily blinding her. “What’s the problem?” She asked worriedly.

The group stopped, gathering in a huddle around her. The man who called her made his way to stand in front of her, clutching his young daughter to his chest, trying his best to protect her from the wind.

“We need to find shelter. It’s too dangerous to travel during the day, and I don’t want to risk them finding us.”

“That’s what I was thinking, but we’ve been traveling for hours now and come across nothing that could be used as a proper shelter.”

Worried whispers settled throughout the crowd of people, causing Rose’s worries to grow. Trees surrounded them from all sides, never crowding together enough for them to hide properly.

Rose swallowed back her growing fear. They couldn’t just stand around here forever doing nothing. It was possible if they traveled a few more miles, then they’d find some sort of cover, but it wasn’t a guarantee, and she didn’t think the elderly would last much longer with the way their eyes glowed with exhaustion and how they stumbled every few steps.

Of course, there was one option, alchemy. She glanced down at the boy in her arms and was slightly surprised to find him stirring. His blue eyes looked up at her, confusion clearing and face pinching into a frown. “What’s going on?” he looked around at the crowd of people, probably surprised there were so many.

Ryler could make us shelter .

It was a selfish thought, yet it was the only thing that came to Rose's mind. She briefly recalled the conversation she’d had with Ed about the boy and knew what she had to do.

“Ryler,” She set him on his feet on the snow, kneeling in front of him. He shivered, arms curling around themselves. He looked miserable. “How much alchemy did Edward teach you?”

Ryler rubbed his eyes and yawned before looking back at her. “I was able to learn a lot, so we got some harder things.” For a second, anger flashed in his eyes before it disappeared just as quickly.

“Do you know if you could create us a shelter in the trees?” She brushed down the hair that stuck upon his head and smiled at him. The small boy nodded, a look of determination settling upon his face.

“I think I can. Don’t worry.”

She nodded and stood. Turning her attention back to the crowd, she took the small boy’s hand and led him forward. “This is Ryler,” She began, motioning to the boy beside her. He shifted uncomfortably under the eyes of the crowd and moved closer to Rose. “Edward taught him. He can make us a shelter.”

The crowd spoke amongst themselves, seeming to Rose, unsure if it was a feat that the boy could accomplish. “Rose, isn’t he only five?” Brandon asked from amongst the crowd.

“Just because I’m five doesn’t mean I can’t do it!” Ryler burst, child-like annoyance on his face.

The boy crossed his arms and frowned, and Rose found herself proud of the boy who Ed said held so much fire.

“I don’t doubt it, son, but I hear alchemy is very tricky.” Brandon quavered, voice thick with uncertainty.

“So?” He challenged. “Ed thinks I can. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have shown me more if he didn’t trust me with it!” the boy yelled.

Ryler’s lip quivered dangerously, and Rose could see tears gathering in his eyes. He seemed to be seconds away from a meltdown if he didn’t get his way. She turned to the older man and hissed. “Let him try. No harm can come with it.”

Brandon stared at her, surprised. He relented, sighing, and nodding. “Alright. I guess it wouldn’t hurt.”

“Good,” She turned to the crowd, mentally counting the number of people that would need accommodation. “We need to hurry; the sun is almost up. I’ll show him where I think the shelter would be best held.”

Rose headed deeper into the thicket, small footsteps tromping through the snow after her. Snow covered the leafless trees, the early dawn light turning them into haunting phantoms. She shivered, kicking away tree branches scattered at her feet.

It was eerily quiet, but she knew it was just in her head. The group was only in the clearing; they were perfectly safe for the moment. Yet some part of Rose felt as if something was watching her every move.

“I think right here will be alright,” Rose said finally. “Is there any area specifically you need to draw the circle?”

Ryler shook his head. “I don’t think so; Ed told me that when he drew circles, it didn’t affect the transmutation.”

The boy settled himself into the snow.

After a few minutes, it became apparent to Rose that the time spent in the compound had had more effect on Ryler than she and Ed had worried about. He tensed up whenever the wind picked up, relaxing a moment later as if he’d only just realized it was the wind.

The hoot of an owl returning from the hunt startled the boy so severely that he flinched what had to be two feet into the air. His blue eyes turned toward her, glinting brightly in the early morning light, and her heart broke when he saw his hands shake, and his lips quiver.

What had those bastards done to him? Rose’s heart practically broke, watching the young boy reign his emotions as best as possible while making sure that the tears trekking down his face were silent.

Ryler still should’ve been with his family, entering school, playing from friends. He deserved all of that and so much more, and now it was very likely that it would take a while for the young boy to move past the past few months. It would take him a very long time to move past Edward.

“Ryler,” Rose settled in the snow beside him. The boy looked away from her, quickly wiping away any tears and then continued with his work. “Are you alright?” She asked.

Ryler paused once more, staring down at the half-drawn circle. “Why do you care,” he pouted, drawing his arms around his knees. He sniffled and wiped a hand across his nose. “Ed didn’t care. So why do you?”

“Ryler,” She chided, “Ed cares so much for you.”

The boy’s blue eyes narrowed for a moment as if he didn’t believe her, and after all that had happened in the past few hours, Rose couldn’t say she blamed him.

“If that was true, then why did he send me away?”

Distantly, something rustled nearby, and the rustling of the trees against the breeze grew, but Rose ignored it for the feelings of guilt and overwhelming that overtook her.

She started at the boy, a blank look on her face, contrasting the look of anger and misery on the face across from her. How was Rose supposed to respond to that?

“Rye一”

Rose’s next words never came out of her mouth because she suddenly found herself on the ground, the world going hazy around her, and a blood-curdling scream of agony tearing through her lips.

There was a wolf planted on her chest, jaws locked around her neck.

Ed hated waking up in strange places, absolutely hated it. He hated with a burning passion. He even hated it more than milk (no he didn’t, milk was on a whole different level). That wasn’t the point, though. The point was that waking up in a cold room, specialized metal handcuffs on your wrists, and having yourself situated in a metal chair with your legs restrained, would’ve panicked an average human beyond belief. Yet panic didn’t even describe the emotion he felt as he craned his head to look around at his new surroundings.

The walls were plain, faded white with water stains on the ceiling tiles. The floor was tiled, faded white as well. There was nothing noticeable or significant about the room to Ed’s annoyance. It looked like a regular room.

Who knew the Drachman’s had such awful taste.

You’re one to talk, the voice in his head reprimanded, sounding too much like Mustang.

Shut up; he snapped at himself.

He allowed his head to sag into the back of the chair, eyes falling shut, allowing himself to breathe through nausea that his gut conjured up from anxiety and the slight lick of pain emanating from his back and一

His eyes snapped open, and he remembered. Something had collided against him; a glance down at his abdomen quelled the fear that he’d been shot with a bullet. To Ed, it was a little surprising that they hadn’t used lethal force unless they wanted him alive.

They wanted him alive.

The magnitude of the thought was gut-wrenching, and he swallowed down the thickness in his throat. Right, this must be the part of his stay in the hellhole where they tortured him to get what they wanted.

A bitter smile forced its way onto his face, and he tilted his face up. “Y’know truth, I know I’ve made a lot of mistakes, but this is getting a little ridiculous.” He joked sardonically.

There was no way to get out of this, that was the first thing that was clear to him. The second was the flashes of memories, of what Mustang told him to do if he ever encountered a situation like this.

His superior had said something about staying silent, don’t give them what一

A sharp, deep, wailing scream shattered the quiet that encompassed the space that Ed resided. He tensed harshly, eyes trained carefully on the door. If he listened closely, he could hear the sound of an interrogation elsewhere.

Minutes that felt like hours seemed to pass as Ed kept a tense gaze on the door to his left. More than once did the panic almost overtake him, leaving him worrying for his loved ones, how would Al get his body back without him, would Winry be able to move on from him, how he’d never get to see Ryler living a happy life?

Stop! This is what they want. They want you scared.

Ed blinked stupidly, mind pulling him back to an interrogation tactic.

“Drachman are the worst. They leave their prisoners to stew in their thoughts, and when they come to interrogate, the prisoner breaks.” Mustang had told him, and he was glad that the conversation was one of the only ones he paid any attention to.

Was there anything else he told you, think…

Ed tried his hardest to remember, but all he got was vague memories of what to do if any other countries captured him.

He groaned in frustration. He needed to learn how to listen better and一

The metal door to his left groaned as it pushed open, interrupting Ed’s turbulent thoughts and silent panic.

He stared blankly at the five soldiers that filed in, the major general, an interrogator, a hulking man who was a major, and three lieutenants, including Phantom. His heart nearly sank when he saw the alchemist’s eyes pull away from his glare.

No hard feelings, the alchemist’s gaze said when their eyes met momentarily. The man looked slightly ashamed and horrified, and Ed couldn’t hold that against him.

A chair was dragged in the room for the general, the screeching nearly causing Ed to wince. The interrogator stared at Ed silently from the general’s side, ice blue eyes filled with anger, and Ed eyed the man warily. The man’s fists looked as if they could crush his head without even trying.

The major general stared at him, and Ed could see the barely restrained anger with the way the man’s face twitched, and multiple emotions flittered across his face. The silence also gave Ed to size the general up, taking in the man’s gray speckled beard and gray eyes that looked as if they wanted to tear him apart.

“Your companions have refused to tell me the ring leader of this operation,” The general’s rough voice echoed, a choleric bite to his voice, the general stood, moving to stand closer to the young alchemist restrained in the chair. “They didn’t even break when the brands bore into their skin, and the fire licked them and burned their skin,” The man moved to where his mouth was beside Ed’s ear. “Tell me, boy, do you know what a burn feels like?” The general hissed through his teeth.

“Can’t say I do, but you clearly一”

A fist connected with Ed’s jaw, snapping his head to his right. Bright spots momentarily covered Ed’s vision before he shook them away and turned back to bare his teeth at the general.

“I don’t have time for games, boy,” The general snarled.

“I don’t have time for this.” Ed mocked in a high pitched voice.

The next blow didn’t give Ed any time to prepare himself, copper quickly filled his mouth, and he spat it onto the ground between his feet. Blood trickled from the young alchemist’s nose, but he paid no mind to it.

“What happened to the stories I’ve heard of all these scary Drachman tortures? Afraid to use them on someone you can’t kill?” Ed challenged.

The general sighed, he glanced at the interrogator, who met his gaze and nodded in a silent message that had Ed curious. The man then swiftly opened the door, and the general turned his gaze back to Ed, and to his slight alarm, the coldness had made way for something else, something that Ed couldn’t pinpoint.

As quick as a snapping turtle, the general grasped Ed’s jaw, pulling his head up and gripping it so hard that Ed nearly groaned. “Don’t mistake me, boy. I was hoping that we’d be able to use slightly less...extreme methods.” His voice turned dangerous, somehow even more than it already was.

Did they think anything they were getting ready to do would get him to talk? They could try all they wanted, but they were never going to get him to sing like a canary.

The interrogator returned minutes later, eyes wide with a form of excitement that caused Ed’s nerves to build. “Odin iz nikh govoril. Ikh kurs na granitsu!” Ed didn’t catch anything the man said, but his heart sank when he saw the general’s eyes light up.

“Khorosho. YA podgotovlyu vecherinku dlya ikh poiska.”

The general turned to him, a dangerous gleam in his eyes. “Well, young alchemist, aren’t you lucky? Someone talked.”

Ed’s heart skipped a beat.

No, shit, no, no, no!

It took all of Ed’s strength to keep his calm composure. He couldn’t afford for them to see how scared the statement made him. But he was terrified.

The general stepped away from him and clasped the interrogator on the shoulder. “Two hours. Then he goes to the truck with the others.”

The interrogator simply nodded, satisfied. He took his leave along with Phantom, and another lieutenant and Ed was left alone with two muscular men who were about to beat the shit out of him.

Oh, shit.

The next two hours had passed in a pain-filled haze. The two soldiers had taken turns beating him bloody, going for Ed’s face, which he was now pretty sure was black and blue. His left eye had already swollen shut, and no matter how much blood he spat out, the copper tang perpetually stayed.

Sweat coated his limbs from the struggle of keeping himself consciousness, and the heaving breaths that drew themselves out of him. His bangs covered his face, clinging to sweat and blood. At some point during the beating, he remembered something in his body cracking, and now realized it focused in his abdomen. Of course, another broken rib.

The beating had started with things he could handle, punches to the face, the abdomen (His torso was probably covered in large dark bruises). Then they’d brought in the fire poker.

Thankfully, they’d chosen to mask him for that, something he was now glad about because he wasn’t able to hide the agony and his wide golden eyes filled with pain when the white-hot poker dug into his side.

He’d inhaled sharply, oxygen refusing to enter his lungs as he sputtered and gasped through the pain. The muscles in his neck had tensed, preparing for the scream attempting to work its way from his throat, threatening to tear it apart.

The muscles in Ed’s hand had tensed so much that the bones protested. The mask quickly turned damp from the sweat and involuntary tears that trickled down his face.

His heart had felt as if it was going to explode as if it was trying to escape from a pack of feral animals. His lungs burned as his chest had heaved.

And the fire continued.

Ed is sure he had to have passed out at one point, there’s a vague memory of his limbs turning to lead, his body finally giving out as the pain got too much, and shamefully he thinks he can remember a whimper pulling itself from him as he sank into unconsciousness.

You’re pathetic; he snarled at himself.

He was now alone, a brief respite from the agony.

He didn’t want to remember how it arched up his spine, causing his limbs to struggle against his will. Didn’t want to remember how he nearly begged for them to stop, and he most certainly didn’t want to remember pleading in his head through his agony for someone to save him.

How pathetic that you’re reduced to a sobbing child at the instance of pain

Ed didn’t have the energy to draw a retort to that thought.

The next time Ed was roused into full consciousness, it was to the sharp squeal of a truck’s wheels, and something nudged against his lips. He gasped, shooting into a sitting position and wincing at the severe pain shooting through his body.

He looked around, taking in the appearances of Jack and the five other men. They were all a mess, each looking battered and bruised, while some were missing fingernails, and Ed slightly winced with sympathy.

“You look like shit, kid.” Jack chortled, a slight smile coming onto his face before it disappeared just as quickly.

“So do you.” Ed retorted, golden eyes flashing. He settled himself carefully against the wall, wincing at the burn on his ankle.

The older man glanced at him then to his feet, and Ed suddenly felt guilty. He’d gotten them caught and tortured, and now they were going to who the hell knows. This was his fault.

“I’m sorry,” he said aloud, directing to everyone around him. “It’s my fault all of you got caught. I shouldn’t have had that panic attack.” Ed’s fists curled together; a tight expression appeared on his face.

Whatever happened would be his fault. Damn it.

“It’s my fault, kid,” Ed’s head snapped around to look at the man, surprise on his battered face. “I should’ve known you’d be in no condition to keep helping after you sent that kid off.” The older man rubbed a hand down his face and winced.

“They broke your finger.” It was more of a statement than a question as Ed motioned to the man’s hand, the ring finger appearing crooked and swollen.

Jack nodded. “They’re going to find them,” Ed suddenly realized. Horror grew on his face, and he turned to look at the man. “They’re going to kill them.” The realization knocked the air from his lungs.

Oh, god. Ryler.

The horror spread itself to Jack’s face. “Shit,” He hissed, banging his good hand on the floor. “There’s nothing we can do. They’re on their own.”

The statement left Ed feeling as helpless as the day he was born.

There was nothing else that could be said after that. It was a terrifying reality, either the escapees would be able to escape or die. There was no in-between.

All Ed could do was hope. Hope that they escaped in time. Hoped that they escaped the inevitable.

Looking back, he should’ve known better than to hope.

The truck came to a halt an indeterminable amount of time later. It jolted Ed from his light doze, pulling him to full attention. The other men around him tensed, waiting for the moment their captors would come for them.

The screech of the door raising caused some to jump a mile. Ed swallowed back the anxiety and met the soldier’s gaze with a glare of his own. He was the first one out, shivering immediately at the snow falling around them.

A chain was attached to the collar on his neck, and he’d never felt more like a dog.

He took note of their surroundings. It was a large, wide-open field, filled with bushes and spotted with a few trees. Something was unsettling about this place, but Ed couldn’t put his finger on it.

He limped along with the soldier, wincing as the cold made his wounds ache. The soldier tugged at the chain, tightening the collar and making him feel as if he couldn’t breathe momentarily. “I’m going; I’m going.” He snarled.

They walked down a hill and finally stopped at an area with posts in the center. Ed is forced into the snow, arms wrapped around the post, and the chain around the collar wrapped around so tightly that barely a tug results in him nearly choking.

Distantly as he stares up at the soldier, a knife and gag in hand, a shiver of fear runs through him. Were they planning on killing them?

No, he decided after the gag was placed in his mouth. That would be much too easy. Drachman torture based itself on fear. They wanted their prisoners scared, and perhaps they wanted him scared enough to give in and help them with whatever they were planning.

This had to be the worst time to think about it, but Ed had a vague memory from yesterday, something had been inserted into his arm. He’d noticed the pinprick, but hadn’t thought anything of it.

They’d put something in him, in all of the kids. In Ryler.

A sharp sting breaks Ed out his disquiet, and he jolts. A hiss escapes from his lips, and the flinch jostles the knife sticking out his bicep that he can see in the corner of his eye. As quickly as it appeared, it disappeared. The blood appeared immediately, dripping down his forearm and off his fingertips, staining the snow a deep crimson.

The soldier hummed in approval, wiping the bloody knife off on his pants. Ed squeezed his eyes shut, the wound throbbing. It’s probably not all that deep, could’ve possibly probably only torn flesh and tissue.

Small grunts came from the other men, and then the smell of crimson filled the cold air. Ed scowled, there was no telling what animal could be attracted to the blood.

Unless…

Ed’s eyes widened, and his breath momentarily stopped.

Oh, shit.

“Where are you going,” Jack’s voice rang out through the wind. “You can’t just leave us here!” Terror filled the man’s voice, and out of the corner of his eye, he could see just how scared the man was.

The soldier sighed. “We’ll be back some time.” The man’s footsteps quieted as he moved further away.

“Better stay on your guard,” The soldier shouted back, amusement in his voice. “The wolves come out at night.”

With that statement, it was quiet. It all made sense now. The blood...the wolves, they would come and there would be no way for any of them to defend themselves.

Shit.

#Fullmetal Alchemist #fma #fmab #Edward Elric #Alphonse Elric #Roy Mustang #Winry Rockbell

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jordswriteswords · 5 years

Text

Clextober19: Haunted House

"This is gonna be the coolest Haunted House ever!" Madi cheered.

Raven winked at her niece, then flipped down her welding mask and started grinding the metal pieces of… something.

No one knew exactly what Raven was doing.

Madi had asked her mom's if they could have a haunted house this Halloween, and of course, after much pleading from both Madi and Raven, her mothers gave in.

However, there were restrictions.

Madi couldn't use magic when she was in there to hurt anyone.

All scary creatures had to be friends or family.

No one was allowed to be under the influence of any substances before entering the house.

Jasper wasn't allowed to flirt with any of the parents.

Raven was not allowed to use fireworks.

There was a lot of moaning and groaning once Clarke and Lexa had gone over the rules, but everyone agreed once Lexa had cast her most menacing look towards them (Jasper actually squeaked). Madi did, at least, convince Clarke to talk to Lexa about using magic to make the place that much scarier, and of course the green eyed witch was more than willing to bend the rules for her wife.

As nightfall approached, kids gathered in the backyard of the Griffin-Woods house to gaze at the haunted house that Madi's family had made. Smoke plumed from the grass, Octavia and her vampire friends fluttered around in their bat form, the lights in the house flickered on and off, Lincoln howled, and Jasper laughed menacingly over the PA system.

"Wow, Madi, this is so cool!" Aden said.

"This is dumb," Josephine countered. "It's literally a playhouse with a PA system. How are we even going to fit everyone in there? It's like four feet tall."

Raven slapped her hand down on Josephine's shoulder, startling the twelve year old girl. "Ahhh, my pretty," she said with her best gollum accent. She was dressed to the nails as a witch/zombie combination. She had enlisted Clarke to just throw paint at her, which her best friend did so willingly. "Appearances may be deceiving," she quipped.

"Clearly. You look like a Halloween store barfed."

Raven's eyes narrowed at the young girl, and she pushed Josephine into the house with a little more force than necessary. "Just get in the house."

Surprised shouts and gasps were heard when the children entered the play place, as the house was as big as the Griffin-Woods home on the inside.

"Whoa," Aden said, blue eyes wide as he looked around. "How did you do this?" He asked Madi.

She just smiled at her best friend and winked.

The lights flashed and flickered inside the house, ominous music playing as the children moved through each room. There were fluttering curtains and fake blood dripping from the walls. Ghosts popped out of the walls and the children screamed. Jasper played a headless bartender, offering the kids bubbling brews filled with fake blood. Lincoln growled and pretended to lunge at them as they passed. The house was filled with screams as they made their way through the haunted house.

Madi tried her best not to giggle at her classmates.

In the last room, her aunt Anya was dressed as the Grim Reaper with a chainsaw (upon Raven's insistence) to chase the children out of the house.

As her class entered, Madi winked at her aunt, who was completely unrecognizable in her costume. Raven decided to go off script at this moment. "Only those of you who have pure hearts may leave this place. The rest of you must burn," she said, hand coming to grip Josephine's shoulder harshly.

Josephine just rolled her eyes at the Latina.

Anya chased the children as they all ran to the door, her chainsaw revving loudly.

Raven hit the remote that slammed the door shut just as Josephine got to the door, causing her to stumble backwards into Madi and Aden. Her head collided with Madi's nose, a loud crack sounded as she fell back onto her butt.

"Madi, are you okay?" Aden asked, dropping down beside his friend. "You're bleeding!"

Madi, delusional from the knock to her head, sniffed the blood back into her nose. She rubbed her nose with her sleeve, a sharp wave of pain coursing through her.

There was a loud crack of thunder inside the room, and a cold chill washed over the five inhabitants.

Blood seeped down the sides of the wall, wet and sticky, with an iron scent.

"Let me out!" Josephine cried. "Let me out!"

"Madi," Anya whispered, kneeling down to look at her niece. "Madi, stop."

"My nose," Madi cried. "My nose is broken!"

Anya's eyes widened, and she grabbed Raven's sleeve. "Open the door!" She hissed, pointing at Madi's broken nose.

"I can't," Raven cried as she smashed the button on the remote to no avail. "It's not opening!"

"Is it hot in here?" Josephine asked, her forehead starting to sweat. "It's hot."

"Let me try," Aden said, moving to the door to tug uselessly on the handle.

Madi was forced to sniff and wipe her nose again as the blood continued to pour out.

Suddenly, the smell of smoke filled the air, and Madi's eyes widened. Flickers of flames started catching on the bottoms of the curtains, growing as they licked at the material.

"Only the pure of heart!" A loud, disembodied voice boomed through the room.

"Madi, your magic is broken along with your nose," Anya whispered to her niece. "I need to get your mom,"

"No, no, no, please don't leave us," Madi begged, eyes watering as she pulled on Anya's arm.

"I'll be right back, I swear. We need your mom."

Raven smashed the button on the remote again and again. The door swing open suddenly, knocking Aden on his butt, and Josephine ran out without a second glance.

Anya pulled Raven, while shouting at her niece to get up.

Aden stood, shaking his head. He ran over to Madi and pulled to her feet, but she was woozy from her head injury and she fell back down, taking him with her.

Anya turned and tried to run back inside for her niece, but the door slammed shut again, locking her out of the house. "No, no, no! Madi! Aden!" She screamed.

The room was engulfed in flames in moments. Aden and Madi coughed through the smoke as they tried to pull on the door handle to the room behind them. "Ah!" Madi screamed, her hand burning on the knob.

Madi could hear the howls of Lincoln as he scratched at the door, and the shrieks of the vampires trying to fly through the walls and failing.

"It's locked!" Aden said. He coughed violently and pulled Madi down to the floor.

The brunette looked at her best friend, his face stricken with panic as he coughed and wheezed beside her.

She had sealed herself into the room like a tomb.

With Aden.

They were going to die.

She tried to wiggle her nose, but the break was so severe that she couldn't feel it. She sniffed, and the fire grew even more.

Aden reached for her hand, squeezing once before his eyes closed. "Aden!" Madi yelled, but the boy had passed out.

Madi coughed and coughed, her heart breaking and guilt manifesting as the realization that this was all her fault hit her.

"Ma-" she coughed. "Ma...ma," Madi whispered before falling unconscious.

***

Lexa watched as the children entered the haunted house.

From the outside, everything appeared normal, and then Anya and Raven came stumbling through the backdoor, followed by fire.

It was perplexing, because everything seemed normal with the magical spell covering the house.

"Where's Madi and Aden?" Lexa asked, hurrying down the steps to help her sister and sister-in-law.

"Inside," Anya wheezed. "Her nose," she coughed. "Broken. Fire."

Lexa's eyes widened in fright. "What spell did she use?" Lexa asked her sister.

Anya shook her head. "I don't know, I don't know."

Lexa ran to the play house and tried to rip open the door, but it wouldn't budge. She pounded on the door, but no one answered.

"Come on, Madi," Lexa said. "Come on,"

Suddenly, she felt like she was being pulled through her bellybutton, disappearing into a speck of nothingness, and appeared inside the haunted house, in the room full of flames.

She coughed and covered her mouth with her t-shirt, dropping to the floor to find her daughter and Aden.

It felt like her skin was being burned off with the rising heat, her eyes watering from the smoke. She coughed and gagged, searching blindly.

Her right hand finally connected with a limp hand, and Lexa held on with all her might. She reached her other hand out and around to try and find the other child, feeling a shoe to the far left of her.

Her head grew foggy with the lack of oxygen, her breathing became laboured. Her eyes spotted and she coughed, on the brink of consciousness. Lexa clung to the shoe and adjusted her right hand to give herself access to her fingers.

She snapped her fingers, everything went black, and Lexa prayed that she could hold onto the two kids to get them out of the room.

It was a handful of horrifying seconds before Lexa, Aden and Madi's limp bodies regained consciousness, coughing and gasping in the fresh air in the grass of the Griffin-Woods backyard.

Lexa snapped her fingers, and the house shook, and the doors swung open violently to reveal no smoke or fire.

"You're okay," Clarke cooed, rubbing Aden's back as he coughed.

"Mama" Madi coughed. She crawled into Lexa's lap and hugged her tightly.

"Careful," Lexa said, pushing her hair out of her face. She snapped her fingers and Madi's nose was instantly stuffed with gauze. "This is going to hurt," she warned, then snapped her fingers again to reset the bone, forcing Madi's eyes to water.

"Magical gauze. No magic mishaps until it's healed."

Madi hugged Lexa tightly. "Thank you," she whispered.

"What the hell happened in there?!" Josephine yelled, storming over to Madi. "You nearly killed us!"

Aden was the first one to his feet, unsure steps gradually becoming steadier as he breathed in fresh air. "What are you talking about?" He asked Josephine.

"The voice, and the blood, and the smoke, and the fire! Hello!" Josephine yelled, pointing at the house. "Where did you even come from! You guys just appeared out of nowhere!"

Aden forced a laugh and ran his hands through his hair. "Wow, the haunted house really scared you, didn't it Josephine?" He teased. "We came through the front."

"There's nothing in there," Finn Jr. said, stepping into the playhouse to reveal plastic furniture and black wallpaper. "What are you talking about, Josie?"

"I know what I saw!" She yelled. "They weren't in the backyard two seconds ago!"

"No more candy for her, am I right guys?" Aden said with a smirk. The rest of the gathered children laughed, pointing at Josephine and teasing her.

"I - I - I'm not crazy! I know it!"

"You saw them leave from the front," Octavia said calmly, stepping towards the crowd of onlookers, including Josephine.

A moment passed and Josephine repeated, "I saw them leave from the front," her eyes glazed over as she looked at Octavia.

The spell broke, and Josephine shook her head. Raven, at that moment, pressed the button on the remote to make the backdoor slam shut, and Josephine let out a terrified scream.

Everyone laughed and she stormed off. Shortly after, the rest of the crowd had dissipated until it was just Madi, Aden, and the magical gang.

"Thanks for staying to help clean," Madi said. "And standing up for me."

"No problem," Aden grinned at her. "You're my best friend. Besides, the haunted house was really cool," he added.

"Yeah," Madi sighed.

"Hey, umm, just so - just so you know, you're secret is, uhh, it's safe with me," Aden stumbled, earnest eyes looking at his best friend. He let his finger trace down the bridge of Madi's nose ever so gently. "I won't tell anyone you're a witch."

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indiavolowetrust · 4 years

Text

Matthew 7:7

part 1

part 2

part 3

TW: Violence and Blood.

I pull the sleeve of my school uniform over the beginnings of a bruise on my wrist, doing my best to ignore the throbbing pain. I should just be grateful that the incubus had stopped short of shattering it. A small mercy. I should be grateful that he hadn’t decided to devour me right then and there, even if he had believed me to be a demon. It’s a little later than I had intended to leave -- half past ten -- but I can’t imagine Satan retiring to bed. Not anytime soon, anyway, with his odd sleep pattern. Being a few minutes late wouldn’t make that much of a difference. And so I push open the employee exit of Hell’s Kitchen, slinging my school bag over my shoulder.

It’s raining.

I wait a few moments in the doorway, listening for the sound of thunder. Watching for lightning. The tips of my smart school shoes dampen with the onslaught of the storm just beyond the door. I check my bag for an umbrella.

* * *

Despite my efforts not to step in puddles or other flooded areas, it is nearly impossible for me not to become soaked in the storm. The freezing rain feels like needles upon my skin, piercing me through and through, and it is only moments before I am soaked to the bone. Rivulets of water run down my curls. The white button-up shirt beneath my blazer becomes nearly transparent with rainwater, my thick blazer enveloped with a sudden heaviness. My pantyhose becomes soaked when I stumble into a deceptively deep puddle.

The torrent of rain only worsens. I take a less frequented shortcut on the way back to the House of Lamentation. I walk freely in the open, passing under street lamps and the illumination of closing stores.

I feel my D.D.D. buzz in the confines of the school bag, demanding my attention, but I don’t dare open my bag just yet. While working at Hell’s Kitchen makes a fair enough salary, I doubt I have the funds to immediately replace a broken D.D.D.. It buzzes again, increasing in both volume and implied urgency, and I sigh. Lucifer is probably preparing to lecture me for returning to the House of Lamentation so late. Unattended, no less. My eyes scan the streets for a suitable awning or overhang to check my D.D.D..

A sound catches my attention.

I turn around, instinctively searching for the source of the noise. The streets are empty. There is nothing in the darkness but flickering street lamps, the shadows of store signs, the endless winding paths and turns -- and yet I can’t help but feel a sense of unease. Dread. Almost as if I were being watched.

Stop being paranoid, I tell myself. You’re thinking too much.

But I quicken my pace anyway. The fear begins to wrap its icy fingers around my heart, despite my efforts to crush it, and I hold my school bag closer to my body. Draw myself into the confines of my soaked blazer, as if the act would make me any less conspicuous.

There’s that sound again. Closer. I hastily turn a corner at the end of the street. It disappears beneath the torrent of rain. I no longer bother to avoid the puddles and rivulets on the cobblestone, ignoring the unpleasant sensation of water seeping into my shoes.

The sound is some short distance behind me now. At the end of the street, likely, if not some mere feet away. I recognize the sound, despite the uproar of the storm. The unmistakable sound of footsteps.

I run.

I dash through the streets of the Devildom, my heart pounding in my ears. I don’t care where my body takes me, so long as it is moving. I end up ducking into winding alleys, pathways between shops, and spaces underneath shadowed overhangs. I strictly avoid the light of the street lamps as I sprint, willing myself to blend into the shadows. Praying that my pursuer is only some horrible part of my imagination, a simple hallucination made by a tired mind, or, at worst, some curious demonic adolescent playing a prank -- but I know it is none of these things. My legs ache from the sudden exertion, threatening to fall apart beneath me, but the adrenaline forces my body to keep pushing itself forward.

My pursuer matches me at every turn. Despite my attempts to take difficult paths, the sound of their footsteps is nearly in step with my own. Never closer, never further. And yet there is never a lull in their pace. My lungs feel as if they are on the verge of collapsing. I draw in quick, shallow breaths, the panic flooding my system.

The world shifts. A sharp pain shoots through my body as it cracks against a brick wall, and darkness overtakes me.

A moment passes.

An odd liquid runs down the side of my face when I come to, its warmth quickly intermingling with the cold rain. The image of the street before me focuses and unfocuses in my vision. I push myself off the cobblestone, faltering as I do so, and try to force myself to focus. Try to pull away the haze that has shrouded my thoughts. The sound of the rain is more present than ever, dulling my senses. I tentatively place a hand to the side of my cheekbone, to the source of the pain. A dark crimson coats my fingers when I pull it away.

Blood.

A pair of dark, expensive boots appears at the edge of my vision. They approach me with slow, deliberate steps, as if doing their best not to startle me. As if they expect me to run again in my state. I look to my knee and find the dark pantyhose completely torn through, the blood freely flowing out of the wound beneath.

“So it’s true,” says a familiar voice, dragging me back full consciousness. “Even a lesser demon would have been able to sense that. To think there was a human in my midst all along -- and in plain sight, no less. I truly am impressed at your deception, human.”

My eyes widen as I stare at the smiling incubus before me, his expression nothing short of affable. A black umbrella keeps the rain off his form, as if he were doing nothing but enjoying a nightly stroll. His manicured fingers wrap delicately around the handle. My gaze shifts past him, taking in my now ruined schoolbag. My textbooks, notebooks, and D.D.D. are strewn just to the side of the incubus.

My D.D.D. buzzes.

“I thought you were a strange little thing at first,” the incubus muses, stepping closer. “I thought it was odd, really, that you had no idea who I was. I truly believed you were some ignorant demoness from the third circle of the Devildom, that you were some stupid little creature -- but I looked into it. Out of curiosity, you could say.”

I do my best to muster up a glare as the incubus stops in front of me, tipping my chin up with the end of his boot. His expression is unchanging. Then he crouches down in front of me, as if intending to mock my pathetic state. A sadistic amusement dances in his eyes.

I grit my teeth. “Leave me alone.”

“Oh, but how can I? It would be cruel to leave such a delicacy unattended. And I did give you a chance. I gave you so many chances, my dear, and you rejected every last one of them. You, a human, rejected me. Why was that?” The incubus croons, reaching a hand out to cradle my cheek. His expression hardens, and he simply drops the umbrella to the side. “Well, I suppose that doesn’t matter now. It’s time you learned what happens when you trifle with a demon.”

His sclera darkens once more, pink pupils bleeding into the blackness. Horns rupture from his forehead, curling delicately around his features, and a pair of leathery wings burst from his back. They tear through his jacket, distracting him for a moment -- but a moment is all I need.

I shove my elbow into his face. The violent impact stuns him, if only temporarily, and I take the opportunity to dive for my D.D.D.. The screen lights up, despite being completely waterlogged. I take off running, desperately trying to pull up my contact list. It does so. I don’t have enough time to read the name off -- nor the clarity, given the heavy rain -- and I blindly press the icon on my phone. I speak a silent prayer to whichever merciful deity allowed my D.D.D. to survive.

And then I watch as my D.D.D. is torn from my hands, thrown onto the cobblestone, and shattered beneath a boot. I can’t react fast enough.

The incubus’ hands wrap around my throat, nearly crushing it. I struggle for air as he lifts me from the ground, clawing at his hands. My efforts prove to be futile. It is only a few moments before the edges of my vision begin to darken once more. My windpipe bruises within the confines of his grip. I continue to kick at the demon, even attempting to gouge and dig into the flesh of his forearm, but the lack of oxygen weakens my movements. A few more seconds, and I find myself barely able to even register the sensation of raindrops on my skin. I can only stare glass-eyed at the blackened, weeping sky. Small, pathetic whines leave my lips.

The incubus seethes, drawing my face close to his. “I should devour you right here and now,” the incubus snarls, tightening his grip around my windpipe. I wheeze. “But no, I won’t give you that luxury. I’ll make sure you suffer every waking moment, human. I’ll strip the flesh from your bones. I’ll brand your flesh until it bleeds. I’ll cut off your fingers one by one and feed them to the dogs! For your transgressions, I’ll --”

His hands suddenly release me. I collapse into a puddle of rainwater, gasping for air. Chest heaving. Painful, sputtering coughs leave my mouth as I struggle to breathe again, my vision still plagued by spots of gray, and I just barely discern the form of the incubus before me.

The sight is enough to make me forget about the pain.

Satan stands over the incubus, his visage impassive. The draconic horns and scaly, segmented tail of his demonic form protrude from his body. The incubus’ head lies beneath one of Satan’s oxfords. The incubus thrashes wildly underneath the sole of Satan’s shoe, attempting to shove off the demon with his bare hands, but Satan only presses harder. I flinch as I hear the sickening crunch of shattered bones, the night only saturated with the sound of rainfall -- and then it is joined by the screams of the incubus. Obscenities, threats, and curses fall out of his mouth in the course of one breath. Promises to rip off the offending demon’s face, to tear his limbs off one by one, to let the hellhounds have their way with him. Promises to burn him alive, bring him back from the dead, and subject him to thousands of years of torture.

Satan only watches on in apparent boredom, his expression set -- but I know better. His green eyes flash with rage. The tips of his horns seem to nearly ignite, his tail twitching in displeasure.

“What are you doing?” the incubus demands. He thrusts a finger of his unbroken hand towards me. “How stupid can you be? She’s a --”

“I’m well aware of what she is.” Another shattering. Satan smiles almost imperceptibly. “This one is mine.”

* * *

Satan wraps his cardigan around me when he is finished. It is an effort made futile by the downpour, but it is an effort no less. I gaze silently at the splatters of blood on his face and hands as he wraps the garment tighter around me, shivering in the cold, and he averts his eyes. His hands linger over my shoulders for a moment, as if he were afraid to touch me. As if he were afraid of breaking me.

“We should go.”

part 5

#obey me #obey me satan #obey me fanfic #obey me shall we date #obey me oc #obey me original character #original character #writing #writing practice #tw: blood and violence #tw: blood #tw: violence

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