a continuation of the absolutely scrumptious work by @faustianblank
Whumptober day 8: Alternate prompt "organ theft"
cw: canon typical violence, institutionalization
A/n: idc if this is unrealistic or doesn't make sense, i just was so mad(which is good, good writing should make you feel things) reading that fic that the only way to settle this was with violence
SIGNED IN BLOOD
The rage in your heart was like nothing you'd ever felt before. It consumed your every thought, tinging everything red. You were so fucking mad.
Laswell was punishing them, stripped all of them of their current ranks and demoted them, but it wasn't enough for you.
The destroyed you. The ruined your life. A fucking demotion that wouldn't stick? A black mark in their files that would be looked over the second the world was in danger again? Not enough. Not for you.
Laswell had secured you housing, and thanks to the military not wanting to have to deal with a lawsuit, you were set for life. Didn't really matter. Didn't fix you, didn't stop the pain, didn't get rid of the disability.
So you waited until your room was cleared, waited till you only had one day left in the space as the monsters that did this to you. And then you acted.
Laswell had let you keep your weapon. Her mistake, really. You pocket the pistol, limping down the hall in search of Soaps room. He felt guilty, that much you knew. He'd avoided you as much as possible, something you'd be grateful for if you weren't so fucking angry.
You knocked on his door, worrying your lip between your teeth.
"Wha- oh...y/n." His voice was dull, and you could see the guilt in his eyes. Why, you didn't know. It wasn't like he did this to you. Unfortunately, he was the only one you could use to hurt everyone else. Oh well.
"Can I come in?"
"Ah...sure." He steps aside, averting his eyes as you limp into his room.
"Just wanted to say goodbye." You say as he shuts the door behind him.
"Why? Aw thought ye widnae want tae see me again." He looks confused, meeting your eyes for the first time.
"You didn't do this to me." You say calmly, "Which is why i do feel a but guilty for what I'm about to do."
"Whit are ye talkin' aboot?"
"Just...righting a wrong, I guess." With that, you draw your gun, cocking it and aiming at the right side of his abdomen. He freezes, eyes widening.
"Y/n..." He breathes, "Please..."
"Sorry mate." You pull the trigger, the sound echoing through the small space, leaving your ears ringing, "It's just business."
The bullet rips through his stomach, tearing through his kidney and splintering off into his small intestine and liver. You watch with a cool indifference as he staggers back, hand coming to clutch at the open wound.
You hear shouts coming from outside the room and know your time is almost up. You cock the gun back one more time, aiming at his leg.
"I was collateral, a choice made without thought to save you." You shoot him again, not flinching at the sound of his screams as bone shatters, "So now I'm making that choice worthless. They wanted to break me to save you? Well now they get neither of us."
The gun falls from your hand as the door bursts open. Price is first, followed by a gaggle of other soldiers.
"What the fuck have you done?"
Your lawyer pleads insanity at the trial. It was a rash decision, one born of anger and hurt. Your psychologist says you'd already been in a low mental state, and to find out a betrayal like that? Well, it would send anyone off the edge. The jury agrees. You're found not guilty by reason of insanity, and sent to one of the top mental institutions in the country undergo treatment. The least your military can do after stealing your organs.
Only you and Soap will ever truly know what happened. That this was premeditated and planned out. But he won't tell. Price has his suspicions, but who's going to listen to someone that coerced someone into giving up their organs?
They all try to stop by and see you once you're deemed safe enough for visitors, even Soap, but you refuse. You never, ever want to see them again, unless it's to stomp on all of their graves.
Laswell visits you just once. She tells you that Soap was honorably discharged, that he too always walks with a limp now. He has reoccurring infections and undergoes routine surgeries due to scar tissue buildup that adheres some of his organs together.
The rest of the 141 was disbanded. Upon opening of your case, the men in charge became skeptical of Price's leadership skills, and he was given the option to retire or be dishonorably discharged. He chose the former. Gaz was transferred back to his old unit, and Ghost was somewhere in Russia doing covert ops.
"I know what you did." She says finally, standing to leave, "I saw your search history, but I cleared it before your computer was confiscated. I don't blame you. I'm just sorry it came to this."
"Me to, Laswell." You watch as she leaves the room, absentmindedly pressing a hand to your aching side, "Me too."
Nameless, Do You Belong Here? Lloyd Garmadon x female
TLDR: You're thrust into a world of powers, mystical beings, and fate that binds people (Will it bind you?). Your name is gone, your existence erased. You start fresh, but at what cost? You may wear the same face and body, but this version of you is a stranger.
keep reading for full sypnosis and chapter index
Chapter index:
Chapter 0: Significance Behind Names
Chapter 1: Dreams Crushed
Chapter 2: Sterilization Process
Chapter 3: Anagnorisis
More TBA...
Full Sypnosis: What happens if your name is erased? History and social connections rely on names-if people forget yours, who are you to them? The girl they met on Ninth Street? The one with the beautiful smile? Those descriptions don't belong to you; they're for anyone. The only thing that separates you is your name-a name tied to history, intimacy, and substance.
But what if your name was erased? You might think it wouldn't matter, and in some ways, you'd be right.
Now, imagine not just your name, but your entire existence is erased from others' memories. You're no longer part of that world, now existing in another body, in another universe, with no memory of your past. Who were you before?
You’ll have to find out. With a fresh start comes the cost of being forgotten. No one remembers you, no one thinks of you-what’s the point?
Chuuya's backstory is so insane because like, any one event from 15-Stormbringer would be enough to constitute a lesser man's entire tragic backstory. Heck, that one scene from Dead Apple where you learn six of his friends died would be enough to be a tragic backstory. Grew up on the streets, forced to become the leader of a group of children who only saw you as a weapon, struggling with your own humanity, betrayal, five friends being brutally murdered because of you, even the detective who wanted to bring him out of the Mafia dying could be enough of a backstory, and I haven't even gotten to the torture yet. But Chuuya's just special like that.
I just finished How To Become A Dragon on Webtoon and I'm still salty about what Mr. Kim did to Bari. Maybe it's still too fresh in my mind to fully process and understand where he was coming from, but how could you look into those big beautiful eyes and not do everything under the sun to please him? Crazy!
Robin was your childhood best friend. You remember running around the orphanage together, walking with each other to school every morning, and how you'd comfort him after particularly traumatic events. You even took on his payments. He knew what you sacrificed for him, and he worshiped you for it. He loved you for it.
Robin always knew that you had resorted to less than pure methods. Whether it was stealing or, alternatively, selling yourself. He never would have had an issue with that. I mean, sure it hurt. Thinking of you doing what you did with him at night, underneath the cheap polyester sheets before falling asleep tangled together. But he knew it wasn't the same. You wouldn't tell them I love you, you wouldn't hold hands with them, and you would never leave him for them. You were each other's top priorities.
Atleast, he thought so. He was cemented in that fact. So when he was proven wrong, it sent him into a spiral.
The first time you really shook his world was when you agreed to go into the businessman's car the second time. After Robin told you he felt uncomfortable. Before you admitted you had sex with the snob for money. And before you were whisked away.
Willingly.
Willingly whisked away.
As in, your stuff was already packed before Avery even spoke to Bailey. As in, you kept your door locked most nights. As in, you ate lunch with others. He, by default ate lunch alone.
Oh, sure he still saw you at school. Sitting with different friends in History. Ignoring all the times Whitney "visited" Robin. Bailey left him alone at least. However, the thought that the slime who owned you paid it off made him feel sick. You arrived in a nice car, and left in an even nicer one.
It hurt.
It ached.
You were rubbing salt into the rawest wound he's ever had.
Every night was 10 times worse than the previous one. He'd stay awake thinking of you. Thinking of your cute forest picnics. How you'd talk about getting married after escaping Bailey. The way you'd twirl your hair around your finger. The way those lips looked stretched around his cock. He'd have to fuck his hand at least once a day, just to make up for your nightly sessions. All he could think of was you. Your pretty little cunt. How you'd gasp his name.
He missed all of it, and that was just the beginning.
Days turned to weeks, which turned into months. Which turned into half a year.
But then one day, you sat back down at Robin's table. And he knew, he had to have you again. Your clothes were new and shoes scuffed. Little elegant pearl studs glimmered in fluorescent lights. He never knew you as the type to do makeup, or hair, but here you were. All dolled up. Acting as if nothing happened. Robin restrained his urge to just flip out, and played along. Most of what you said was blocked out by the sound of pure unadulterated rage filling his brain. The wheels in his head started to spin. He knew how to get his revenge.
He would ruin you.
He would ruin you to the point that you'd be forced to come home to him.
To the point that your owner wouldn't even take you back.
You acted like a well trained dog. All your speaking quirks were smoothed out. In class, you never daydreamed or socialized. Or, even though Robin would never let you indulge, masturbate. He missed it. Missed catching you slipping your hand beneath your skirt. Missed how you'd huff and blush when he'd stopped you. Your kinks ran a bit too extreme for him. Maybe you hated how he wouldn't "indulge" you. But he'd certainly satisfy your darker side with what he was planning.
He built up your trust. Fuck, he even earned Avery's trust. He'd make sure to help you keep up with Winter's assignments. Avery wouldn't settle for anything less than a distinction. One time, he even let you cheat off his own exam. He'd walk you to the shiny BMW and Avery would have the grace to say thanks before speeding off. You were allowed now to go to "pre-approved" places with Robin. Like the mall, the museum, and the cafe. No beach.
Definitely no more forest picnics and no more movies. No visiting places outside of the list.
But, it didn't take much to convince you to visit the orphanage. You didn't even say goodbye to the younger ones. Feigning a need to pick up something from his room, you followed.
Like a lamb to the slaughter.
He held the door open for you, only to shut and lock it behind you. Robin knew after this, he may never see you again. At least, not like this. Happy, serene, and affectionate. It almost stopped him. Almost. But before you could really realize what was happening, his hand was already covering your mouth, and you were bent over the bed.
The Robin you knew and loved would have never taken you like this. You would have been taken with love and care. Like you were his most valuable treasure. Sweet borderline chaste kisses. Missionary was his favorite. But the Robin you knew also didn't have deep dark circles underneath his eyes nor this cold stony look. He wouldn't have shoved you over the bed. He wouldn't rip apart the center of your panties out, just desperate to get inside you.
Avery's going to kill you. Or him. Or both of you. Tears roll down your cheeks as you try to scream for help. You struggle against him, but he's pressing you down and your arms are tightly pinned to your side. There's no escaping his presence.
Then you hear his pants unbuckle and slide down. Fear strikes you into silence and submission. Is he really going to fuck you? Warmth prods your cunt before his cock pushes in, stretching you out. It burns and without any prep you know you'll ache tomorrow. It's barely wet, but shame fills you. Heavy tear drops slide down your face, and you can almost taste them. How could you enjoy this? His cock continues to ravage you and you feel yourself responding. As he presses down further into you, a moan pops out. Despite being muffed by his hand you know he hears it. His hips quicken in pace and you're a little sobbing moaning mess in his arms.
Your stomach starts to tighten and cramp. Legs feel unstable. He unwraps his arms from around you and sits up. When his hands grab your hips, you know you're going to have bruises there. Forcefully, he brings you to the brink of orgasm, before burying himself to the hilt inside you. Warmth fills you from the inside out as he releases himself up against your cervix. Panic stricken, your mind begins to run as you realize today was not safe at all. Avery specifically left you alone on these days. There's no way you can hide this.
Why hasn't he pulled out yet? But before you can garner the energy to sit up, there's a piece of fabric stuffed in your mouth, and a scarf tied around your head, through the mouth. Soft hands flip you onto your back as he begins his assault of kisses. He keeps muttering apologies but it's all drowned out. All you can think, is that, this is your Robin. The Robin you love.
