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overtime-city-works · 2 years

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War against the world Chapter 1

Hi! this is chapter 1 for my long fic challenge this summer. I hope you enjoy! You can find the rest of the chapters on my Masterlist and the other fics at @mybigbangacademia

Rating: Mature

Tags /Warnings: Pirate AU, Historical AU, Graphic depictions of violence, gore, mentions of slavery, mentions of prostition, swearing, kidnapping

Wordcount: 5,895

Izuku and Shoto have fled from the Palace to find the Stars of Shinzo to stop the spread of famine and misfortune through Japan. Unfortunately they have trusted the wrong Captain and are in a situation they have no idea how to escape from. Lucky for them, there seems to be a pirate crew even more dangerous and cut throat than the ones holding them.

Izuku knew that he deserved death. He'd allowed himself, his Prince, and Lady Mei to be captured and imprisoned. The Prince’s Guard knelt, shivering and shirtless, the wood of the ship hurting his knees and the cruel rope cut into the skin of his wrists and ankles. It was dark in the tiny storage hold they'd been shoved into. The light that had shone in slatted lines from the gaps in the ship's side had gone, telling him it was night.

His brows furrowed in worry as he saw Mei, still slumped on the floor by their feet. It had been hours and she hadn't woken up from the hit to her head. Prince Shoto had had to check if she was even still alive as he hadn't had the strength to do it.

Everything had gone so wrong so fast. He took a breath in through his nose, trying to formulate a plan. But the pounding in his head from the hit he'd got, and the stench of seawater made it hard to think.

He couldn't believe how close they'd come to success.They had trusted the kind Captain in Kyoto, showed him part of the map, and now they were sailing further from their destination and towards being sold like animals. To think that despite all of his training he'd be this weak. The Stars of Shinzou were their only option now, without something as mythical as that, the drought and famine would spread, and it would be his fault.

"My Prince, I'm sor—"

"Do not despair yet Izuku, this is not your fault. Clear your head, we'll think of something. There's still time before we reach China...perhaps almost two weeks at least," Shoto assured him and nudged him with his shoulder.

Izuku could feel the warmth of the Prince through his tunic to his right as they were pressed shoulder to shoulder, it was the only comfortable sensation.

Izuku nodded, and rolled his shoulders. He felt hot, sweaty, and uncomfortable. But he had to stay focused. Izuku could hear the footfalls of some of the crew members, and the sound of cheering and laughing. They'd been kept hidden away, and as far as he knew most of the crew didn't know they were in the hold near the kitchens. For right then, they needed to get the restraints off them, then they would deal with how to escape.

He was about to speak when there was the sound of frantic shouting from the top deck. Whoever had been down in the hold had rushed back up, the thundering of feet began above them, but their voices were too muffled to know what was going on.

There was another loud shout. Then a brief moment of silence, a whistle...and suddenly it sounded as though thunder cracked, mighty and deafening right above their heads.

"Protect Mei," Shoto gasped as the ship tilted from the force, and barrels were sent rolling next to them. "We're under attack from another ship."

There was another tremendous boom, loud and close enough that it hurt his ears, and Izuku scrambled to get to Mei to protect her from the shifting cargo. He was pretty much useless with his wrists and ankles bound, but he tried his best. He let out a grunt as pain flared from his shoulder from a hit by a smaller barrel, but between them, he and Shoto managed to shuffle awkwardly to a position where Mei was mostly protected.

There was another earth shaking hit from an enemy cannon, causing them all to flinch, and dust to fall from the ceiling. Izuku's ears rang. Whoever this was wanted to truly destroy the ship. Drowning would be one of the worst ways to go, but perhaps they'd die free men.

"Shoto, if something happens, know that I was truly happy in your service," he said softly.

"And I am honored to have been your Prince."

Izuku was about to speak but it was then that he felt the hard impact of the ship knocking into them. Through the gap in the outer side of the ship, a faint light made the room more visible. Above them, they heard the slats of wood slamming onto the ship which meant they were being boarded.

Izuku went deadly silent when the screaming started.

Shoto looked at him, eyes wide. The sound of boots scrambling downstairs had him looking to the door. It had been locked, and for now he was grateful. The sounds of clanging swords and yelling was messy overhead. Izuku was no longer worried about drowning, the people who had invaded the ship seemed like much more of a threat.

Izuku's heart began to pulse painfully fast as he heard more boots crashing down the steps to the hold. There had to have been at least four in the area. He’d only seen it briefly before they’d been shoved in the small hold but it was a space that could perhaps only fit seven people. How they were fighting in such close quarters he didn’t know.

"Motherfuckers!"

The sharp yell was punctuated by the thumping sounds of a fight, the clang of swords, and then to his horror, Izuku saw the shadow of a body thump against the door to the hold. There was a cry, and the disgusting sound of metal cutting through flesh and the pungent smell of blood filled the air. There was a gurgling sound, and the body slid down the door on the other side.

Shoto pressed his shoulder against him, perhaps seeking reassurance, or giving it.

Izuku waited with bated breath for the door to be opened. It was locked, but it wouldn’t take much if they found the keys. He was sure that whoever was below deck would just barge right in, but the sounds of the heavy steps grew fainter and then hurried back up the stairs. It was evident what was happening a few moments later. The fighting above seemed to reach a fever pitch, and then slowly, the sounds of the battle came to a stuttering, bloody end.

Izuku wondered briefly who’d won. He heard more boots coming down into the lower decks, and the faint sounds of people talking in low voices and the sound of searching. The sound of bowls and racks knocking over could be heard as though people were searching for something, or exploring. So the newcomers had won.

It was as though Izuku could track their progress around the room, whoever it was was methodical, going along the left wall of the room, sometimes going back up the stairs and then coming back down. Barrels were tipped and searched, and it seemed that the cargo was taken away in an orderly fashion. There was still fighting going on above, but it was lilted and off beat, like the final cries of a dying animal.

“Master Eijiro,” a surprisingly soft, deep voice said. The only reason Izuku could hear it was because it was close to the door.

“Mmm,” Eijiro answered, his voice was surprisingly good natured and it sounded as though he were nearer the other side of the room.

“They don’t have any livestock...but I did find some interesting spices. The barrels aren’t secured properly, but maybe I can fix them.”

“S’long as we can get ‘em across they’ll be fine to take. Rikado will appreciate it.”

The two carried on searching. While they did, Izuku made sure that Lady Mei and his Prince were more comfortable and whispered to the Prince to sit back and relax his legs for the moment. There was no way they were getting away still, especially not with the capable fighters of the new crew.

It was perhaps three minutes later when the boots stopped outside of the smaller hold they were in. The door suddenly shook as if he was trying to open it. Izuku's stomach turned, by this point he was starting to feel nauseous with all the stress.

"Seems there's a hold behind here, but the door’s locked...gonna need an axe," Eijiro said as the body was moved from the door. “I’m going to need Rikado’s help with this.”

Boots sounded up the stairs, and a couple of minutes later, a heavier set of steps could be heard.

There was movement, small sounds of agreement, like the two were discussing how to go about breaking down the door. Surely they couldn’t, Izuku had tested it and it was solid.

Izuku had no weaponry, no tools to see if he cut the ropes binding him. Still, he shuffled so that Mei and Shoto were hidden behind one of the barrels and only he was visible. He could feel Shoto’s hand on his arm, and in that dim moment of life and death, his Prince gave him strength. He would lie, he would plead, he would pretend to have no memory. He would do whatever it took to protect his Prince and the lady. This new crew attacking them had given him another chance of sorts, and he wasn't going to waste it.

Then there was a loud thunk, the sound of splitting wood. Whoever held that axe had enough strength to splinter through the door. Then another axe joined in, and in a fast, efficient rhythm, the door was hacked right through in under three minutes. Light from the lanterns on the other side gradually filled the hold.

Izuku daren’t breathe again and he flinched as the rest of the door was kicked in. The newcomer stood on the bloodied remains of the door.

His tunic was sleeveless, and made of a white billowing material stained by dark powders. His hair was long, but cut in chopped layers of black around his face down to his chest. Around his head was wrapped a strip of dark cloth. At his hip sat a katana, but the rest of his clothes were foreign down to the boots he wore. At his throat was some sort of pendant. His wrists had leather cuffs.

He set down the axe and looked into the room. Izuku knew the moment he’d been spotted when the man’s dark eyes widened and he heard the loud gasp.

“We got live cargo!” he yelled. It was Eijiro.

Izuku prepared himself for the worst when the Eijiro stalked forward, but to his utter astonishment the man placed the lantern on the floor in front of him and brought his hands with surprising gentleness to his face. Izuku’s face was turned, and the man let out a displeased sound at the sight of him. His hands were calloused and rough; he smelt of the sea, blood, and so many things.

"Shit you took a beating," Eijiro muttered.

Izuku’s heart still felt like a rabbit’s but the man was suddenly so calm, so concerned that he couldn’t help but relax slightly in his hold.

The other huge man had lumbered back and a blond foreigner suddenly appeared in the doorway. The newcomer was slight; he wore an oversized tunic, samurai trousers, and a knife at his belt.

"Merde," the blond muttered before he maneuvered around the large man to squat in front of him.

The blond had an otherworldly quality to him. His hair looked so light and soft in the lantern light, and his eyes were an alluring blue that looked almost like the purple summer flowers. His lashes were long too, and he looked so feminine that Izuku felt his cheeks warm. Izuku spotted a thick strap of leather disappear under his wide cut tunic. The tunic he was wearing foreign dress, nothing like the Japanese military or common folk. The man reached down to his belt and pulled out the wicked looking knife. Its handle was gilded with stones and metals, like it had belonged to a rich Daimyo or a foreign warrior.

“How did you come to be here?” the blond asked softly.

Izuku couldn’t help but keep his eyes on the sharp edge of the blade, it glinted in the lantern light. He had to be careful, he couldn’t trust them yet. So Izuku told as much of the truth as possible.

“We were kidnapped by the people on this ship in Kyoto."

The pirate’s intense gaze flicked to Shoto and Mei behind him, and then back to him again.

"What did he say he'd do?" the man asked, lowering the knife to the ropes on his ankles. There was a dangerous glint in his eyes, his lips slightly parted, as if he were coiled to spring.

"He was going to sell us," Izuku murmured.

"Motherfucker," Eijiro hissed.

Izuku wasn't scared of his anger, but the eyes of the blond flashed, and then dimmed, like someone had put out the light inside him. Something dark and dangerous crossed his features, and as the other slowly brought the knife down, Izuku genuinely wondered if he'd be gutted.

In a low, venomous voice, the man said many words in a language Izuku couldn't understand. But he knew they were murderous. To his astonishment, the other man gripped the bindings on his ankles and sliced cleanly through the rope.

"I'm sorry," he said, his words sincere and calm. "I’ll talk to the Captain and see if we can help. I can’t undo these yet.”

He tapped lightly on the binding on Izuku’s wrists and the man cocked his head, a sadistic smile came to his lips.

“We’ll make sure that they pay for treating you that way.”

Izuku did not feel better, at all, but he nodded because there was nothing else he could do. When he was asked more questions, he answered them as best he could, and Shoto kept quiet beside him.

The blonde cut their bonds, and without looking at Eijiro in the doorway, who was looking at Shoto intently, asked for his shirt.

"Of course. Here, sorry if it stinks." Eijiro nodded, and he stripped, easily revealing the tight corded muscles of his abdomen.

Izuku blinked, but put it on when the blond passed it to him. It was far too big, and it smelt like smoke, but it was soft and comfortable. He was grateful there was only a little blood on it.

“We’ll see what we can do for you, follow me,” the blond said as he stood, and lifted the lantern.

Izuku and Prince Shoto stood as well, and before either of the hostages could protest, Eijiro stepped into the hold and lifted the unconscious Mei carefully in his arms and followed behind the blond.

The lower deck was almost completely empty, fully raided of all its supplies. To his confusion the corpses were missing too.

The smell of the sea, and the iron of blood and metal was strong as they emerged onto the Main deck. Lanterns had been lit, along the deck and people were still busy moving cargo and salvaging wood and materials. Izuku looked above him and saw to his surprise a small group of people up in the rigging meticulously taking down the damaged sails. He wondered why on earth they would be taking so much.

However all of his questions were answered in a grim fashion when they were guided up to another set of steps to the helm at the back of the ship. Izuku had to hold back the urge to retch. All the corpses had been piled up so high it was at the same level of the barricade of the ship. By the helm stood a man in foreign dress—a peculiar looking hat upon his head—and he was speaking to another of his crew. Kneeling in a line was a group of men, including the Captain who’d kidnapped them. Each of the men were shivering and bound together with rope.

Izuku stood subtly behind the blond so they couldn’t be seen, the last thing he needed was the Captain to start mouthing off about them and telling their story.

“Eyes on me!”

The man at the helm shouted, and all of the movement on the whole ship came to a sudden halt. With his back to Izuku, the man Izuku guessed was the Captain walked up to the group of kneeling pirates. His boots thunked on the wood; steps slow and purposeful.

“I will give you a choice. Now that this fight is over, you don’t need to fear us anymore.”

The Captain had a rough, growling tone. It commanded you to hear, to flinch, to fear. The man’s clothes were stained with blood, his stance threatening. Without realising, Izuku cowered a little behind the blond in front of him. But his words were rousing, they were giving hope despite all the destruction. The man turned, and they were close enough to see some of the details of his face. For some reason, eyes and the manner with which he spoke reminded Izuku of someone…someone long forgotten. Someone that came to the place of his childhood memories, or something else. Either way, Izuku was liking the situation less and less.

"You have the opportunity to join our crew, to have fair wages, to not live under the tyranny of your old Captain and work under me, Katsuki Bakugo. We answer to no crown...under my flag all of us men are equal."

The Prince had stiffened next to him, and for good reason. Izuku would recognise that name anywhere even though it had been five years. He’d heard it amongst the officers, and had even seen him as a teenager. Katsuki Bakugo. A child of a wealthy Daimyo, sent to the Emperor to train in protecting the Royal household as a Samurai and currently still on the run after he murdered a superior at the age of sixteen. Of course.

Izuku knew the only reason they weren’t killed on the spot was because Shoto had been hidden away the moment his skin had been marred by the boiling water and Bakugo had never seen him. His disfiguration had saved them. Izuku supposed it made the astrologer right in selecting Shoto as the one to complete this secret mission.

But they had to convince Katsuki Bakugo of all people that they should be freed? Izuku wanted to lie down.

“Captain!” the blond in front of him yelled, and he was suddenly being shoved forward to face the Captain against his will with Prince Shoto.

His heart hammered in his chest as the Captain turned and lifted his hat away from his face to see who’d interrupted him.

“What the fuck is it Yuga!” he called gruffly, before he stopped short at what Izuku presumed was him and Shoto.

“What’s this?” he asked, his tone having changed.

Bakugo's dark eyes gleamed. His stance was tense as if it was only a thread of control stopping him from pulling the katana from its covering. His dark hair was cropped, and he had a scar running down his throat like lightning bolts.

He looked worlds apart from when they were young, so different Izuku wouldn’t have believed it was him had he not said his name with his own mouth.

He was intimidating, and in the lamplight he reminded Izuku of a fire dragon from the books from the West Shoto had shown him.

“They were to be sold like fucking cattle Captain,” Yuga spat to his left, voice so venomous it made Izuku shiver.

“Slave traders,” Captain Bakugo growled.

The air around them grew icy, the crew’s gazes grew sharp and oppressive enough to have Izuku almost cowering.

The Captain suddenly turned back to the now quivering captives.

“Mr Kirishima!” shouted the Captain.

“Yes Captain,” Eijiro called back next to Shoto as he stood to attention.

“Remind us what happens to Slavers.” Disgust had filled the Captain’s words.

"They are either to be gutted and tied to the mast or strung over the side of the ship and drowned Captain!" Eijiro shouted back.

Izuku was going to be sick.

Shoto made a faint disgusted noise next to him, and pressed closer to his side.

“Correct Mr Kirishima. Now, it is only fitting that the victims decide what is to happen to their captors! Do you all agree?!” The Captain’s shout filled the night, and there was a chorus of agreement from the crew.

Izuku couldn’t help it. When Bakugo’s piercing stare fell on him, he felt naked and exposed as if at any moment they would be found out. The Captain who had captured them started to struggle.

Captain Bakugo drew his katana with a metallic shing and brandished it at the group of them, its deadly tip pointed directly to Shoto.

“What do you say? Scar?”

Izuku grit his teeth as hot anger flared at the derogatory name. How dare he?! Shoto must've felt him stiffening as he felt a hard grip on his wrist when Shoto took it. His Prince looked completely calm, much accustomed to this sort of name calling. Some of the stuff said to his face was awful, the stuff said behind his back was far worse. Shoto kept his composure through all of it, and Izuku remembered it was partly because of this mission. With this secret mission entrusted he had a purpose, a reason to be. Izuku didn’t think he needed to restore anything, he was already perfect.

Shoto stood with his head held high, looking directly at the Captain that had betrayed them. Then, he looked to Bakugo and answered with a voice so cold that only a Royal could manage it.

“Gut them."

"No!—wait—they're not—" Their captor started as he struggled in his bindings.

Izuku felt his stomach drop his feet, and Shoto' hand squeezed him in preparation.

"I don't want to hear another fucking word!" Captain Bakugo yelled, and he shoved a dirty cloth in the man's mouth.

Three of the crew stood in front of the three subordinates that were left, and Captain Katsuki stood in front of the shaking Captain. Some of them pleaded, some of them cried. It all made Izuku feel sick again, he couldn’t watch. He turned his head away when they drew their swords and in one practiced motion sliced across the abdomens of each of the men. They screamed, and immediately Izuku was overwhelmed with the stench of blood, it seemed to reach into his head and cover his eyes. Even after they were dragged to the Mast at the front of the ship he could taste it.

Izuku only started breathing again once the crew that kidnapped them were out of sight.

Izuku had no idea he was shaking until Shoto squeezed his wrist gently. He caught the Prince’s eye, and found him still calm. He looked tired, but somehow satisfied. Izuku had to remind himself that Shoto would’ve seen this treatment in the Main Palace and perhaps even at times when Royal duty called.

Izuku took a shaky breath, and managed to ground himself a little by the time the Captain returned and stood in front of them. The rest of the crew got back to work as if the vicious murdering hadn’t even happened.

“You two can stay with us until we arrive at Ama Island then you can go your own way. What are your names?” The Captain asked gruffly.

Izuku numbly held up his wrists when Captain Bakugo pulled out a smaller, jewel-tipped dagger and gestured for him to raise them. The palm of the Captain’s hand was rough on his wrist, and there were scars like star bursts across it. But his hand was gentle when he held them and cut through the rope. Izuku was still in too much shock to speak. He swallowed.

“Shoto Kyoto, this is Hisashi Kyoto. Our friend is Mei and she has the same name,” Shoto answered.

The Captain’s blond brows raised; his gold stud in his ear flashed in the lantern light. Eijiro beside them laughed, and even Yuga made a snort of amusement next to him.

“Shoto Kyoto huh?” Captain Bakugo grinned. “How the fuck did you get such a dumb name?”

The Captain moved onto Shoto and cut his bindings, and missed the way that Izuku’s mouth turned down.

“When you’re born without parents they give you name of the city if you’re raised by monks, and give you name of the master of the house if you’re a slave,” Izuku mutterd, his own voice sounded far away. “I would’ve thought you’d know that Captain.”

This was true, if only in his case. The monks said they’d discovered him on the beaches of Shizuoka with nothing to identify him. With the monks he’d stayed until he was five before he was sent to the Palace and marked, and put by Prince Shoto’s side.

The Captain stood in front of him again, and to his surprise, rough fingers held his jaw and lifted his head. The Captain’s red eyes burned into his. The other crew member next to him said nothing, neither Yuga nor Eijiro interfered.

Izuku’s heart pounded again once he realised what he'd said obviously pissed the Captain off, and he was sure he looked like a wild animal after everything that had happened.

“The people I trust…I don't fucking butt into their business like I expect them to do. Even I'm not stupid enough to do that. I just don't trust you...Izuku," the Captain sneered.

Izuku was sure Captain Bakugo would take back his offer, but he didn’t. He just let him go and stalked off to command the rest of the crew over to their ship. He left Eijiro and Yuga in charge of them.

Izuku was beginning to come down from the high adrenaline, exhaustion seemed to seep into his very bones.

“He must like you,” Eijiro said cheerfully as he headed towards the two planks that joined the ships.

“Anyone else would’ve gotten hit or worse.” Yuga smirked next to him.

Izuku said nothing as they were led onto the other ship. The dark waters below made the planks sway beneath his feet.

“Welcome aboard ‘The dragon chaser’,” Eijiro said with a grin.

The dragon chaser, how like Katsuki Bakugo to choose that name.

The ship was unlike the Japanese. With three large masts, and a sharper deck that led to a point instead of a square face. The main deck was the size of a small courtyard, and at the bow of the ship was a room, steps either side led up to the bow. At the back of the ship was another room, this time with windows and a more ornate looking door. On top was the helm. Izuku guessed that it was an officer's room or the Captain’s quarters.

"They can stay in the Navigation room,” Yuga said to Eijiro. “I’ll clean up if you take them down to Tsu.”

Then Yuga hummed and turned to look at Shoto and himself.

“See you later mes amis,” he called, before giving them an indulgent smile. The man headed off to their right, to the front of the ship with the room with small glass windows facing the main deck.

Izuku had no choice but to follow a now pleasantly chattering Eijiro who didn't even flinch or sway when the ship suddenly shuddered and jolted forward as it began to move away from the bloody massacre in its wake.

On the second level, under the main deck and at the front of the ship was a small room with a large wooden table. The walls were lined with very small drawers and the names of herbs were scrawled onto each. On one wall there were metal instruments that ranged from delicate to brutal looking and strapped to wood neatly with leather. There was a hammock to their right, and when they entered the fabric was pulled down to reveal a woman.

She had black hair that was impossibly long, it fell all the way to her hips and it framed her face and it was cropped short on her forehead, a style he’d never seen before. Her clothes were dark green, and she was wearing a yukata garment with a belt, but when she climbed out, she wore mens trousers.

"My fair, beautiful Tsuyu, would you please help this maiden?" Eijiro said in an almost nauseatingly sweet tone.

"I've already sewn up ten men," Tsuyu said flatly.

She raised a brow at Eijiro who laid Lady Mei gently down on the wooden table. There was a pause as the quartermaster looked at her pleadingly.

"Come on~ you know eleven would be manly as fuck."

"Fine...tell Katsuki that I'm almost out of wisteria. The guards aren't going to make themselves," Tsuyu said with finality before she started to inspect Lady Mei thoroughly.

Oh, Izuku thought in surprise, this woman was the surgeon. He wondered what she would need wisteria for, and what the supposed guards were. Perhaps they were superstitious.

Izuku just took the vial handed to him without complaining and hissed at the sting when his head wound was cleaned with salt water and bandaged. Strangely, it made him feel much, much better. His head no longer throbbed so much.

Mei was breathing softly. The woman surgeon had said she was simply exhausted and sleeping soundly. Luckily there had been only a slight bump with no swelling and she hadn't been sick. She'd apparently awaken again soon.

Izuku trudged after Eijiro again, back to the main deck to be stared at and they walked over to the room at the front of the ship.

Eijiro knocked, and Yuga’s light voice sounded out. Eijiro then twisted the heavy looking handle and the door swung inward with a moaning creak.

Izuku filed into the room after the Prince. In the centre was a large table, it was covered in cream papers, inked maps and markings scribbled and scrawled. On the left there were piles of books and more rolls of papers stuffed here and there. There was a single candle hanging in a lantern at the back of the room, beyond it he could see the inky black nothingness of the midnight sea.

On the right side of the room, there was a futon raised from the ground on a wooden board with four legs. On the wall was hung a brightly colored tapestry with all sorts of trinkets and jewellery stuffed into the chest at the end of the raised futon. Izuku felt vaguely uncomfortable with the emptiness underneath. He got closer though and found it was stuffed with things that were unidentifiable in the little light.

“Come, come, lay her on the bed Ei. I’m going to go sleep with Mezo anyway.”

Eijiro walked over to the futon and laid Mei gently on top.

"Mess is at six bells, but feel free to rest more if you need. Good night," Eijiro bid them.

"Thank you for your kindness...and for gifting my brother your clothing. You're very courteous," Shoto said softly.

Izuku heard Eijiro shutting the door as he watched Yuga pile up maps and papers and stuff them onto the space above the low shelf of books.

“Toshi’s gonna kill me if he sees how messy this room’s got without him,” the young man said; a guilty smile at his mouth.

“This is his room?” Izuku asked, looking at all the soft materials of fabric piled up at the back of the room and behind the door.

Yuga laughed, and stood with his hand on his hip. “We share, but we’re picking him up soon. He hasn’t been on the ship in a while. Well, good night, mes amis, I shall see you bright and early.”

To Izuku's surprise he was quickly embraced. Yuga was sturdier than he looked, and Izuku couldn't help but stiffen at the contact. No one hugged him—not even Prince Shoto.

Yuga then embraced the prince as well before he left, blowing a kiss before closing the door behind him.

For a moment, Izuku and Shoto stood still before the prince walked over, and despite Izuku's protests, moved the thick blanket down on the floor and told him to place Mei on the futon on the wooden board.

"You're Majesty, you shouldn't—"

"I'd prefer to sleep on the floor Izuku," the Prince said rather bluntly.

Izuku bit his lip but didn't argue. He picked up Mei, laid her gently on the futon and made sure she was comfortable. Her head seemed to be healing nicely now that the surgeon had seen her.

Shoto was already waiting on the thick blanket on the floor, back turned to him.

Izuku wordlessly joined him, undid his long black hair and neatly rebraided it for sleeping. It was calming: running his fingers through Shoto's hair.

"I wonder how the healer is a woman," Shoto mused.

Izuku said he'd ask the next morning. It wasn't until he laid down on the wooden floor while Shoto lay on the blanket did his head begin to swim with sleep and exhaustion hit him full on. His bones seemed to melt into the very ship; he was so tired.

Izuku was already drifting, lulled by the creaking of thip and allowing the deep wallowing in his back to wash over him.

"Izuku…"

After some time, as if between waking and sleep, he heard Shoto's voice. It sounded far away.

"Mmm," he mumbled, his eyes closed.

"I choose this ship. This one will get us there."

Izuku's eyes flew open, and he rolled over to his left to stare at the Prince.

"You can't be serious. This ship is far too dangerous to remain on, if they find out who we are they'll kill us or worse," he said in astonishment.

"Don't you see?" Shoto whispered, his eyes almost glowing in the candle light as he reached out and took Izuku's wrist.

"This is the best option we have because they are so dangerous. If we can make them our allies then we won't have to worry about who comes after us."

Izuku had only seen Shoto have this much resolve and passion once or twice before, and once the Prince had decided something, it was absolute.

"I still don't think it's safe enough..."

"We still have perhaps three or four days until we reach land. Let us observe them and see, but I feel this is right. I feel it is right Izuku."

Izuku sighed, but he nodded. Shoto was looking at him with so much determination. Izuku knew Shoto also wanted to make up for his blunder that got them into this mess. The Prince's drive to make things just despite his upbringing was admirable.

"Very well," Izuku agreed softly.

Shoto gave him a small, but kind smile before he got more comfortable and rolled over to sleep.

It would be incredibly risky staying on this ship, but he signed up for this when he agreed to accompany Shoto in the first place. No, he was made to do this. He'd been preparing for this all of his life, he would keep Prince Shoto safe.

Izuku's eyes slipped closed again, and he allowed sleep to take him as he was lulled by the rocking waves. For a brief moment just before consciousness left him, it was as if he felt a presence deep beneath the waves that observed him, but then he knew nothing more.

#my hero academia #boku no hero academia #War against the world fic #Overtime-citymha #izuku x hitoshi #mybigbangacademia #fanfiction #pirateau #historical au #tw gore #tw mentions of prostitution #tw kidnapping #pirate!bakugo #prince!shoto

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vague-humanoid · 5 months

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Channel 2′s Cobb County Bureau Chief Michele Newell was in Smyrna Wednesday, where a lawsuit alleges that sex trafficking took place at a Red Roof Inn off Windy Hill Road in Smyrna as well as three other metro Atlanta hotels.

Eleven victims initially came forward, but now there are a total of 15 survivors. Some of the victims were as young as 16 years old.

According to the lawsuit, filed on behalf of nearly 20 women by attorney Patrick McDonough, a front desk employee at the Red Roof Inn said there was never a minute that prostitution wasn’t going on at the motel from 2008 to 2016.

“Their own employees would testify that there would be 10, 15 different girls that were being trafficked everyday,” McDonough said. “Multiple of the clients were at the Smyrna Red Roof hotel, and it’s all the same pattern. Horrific things happened. We have 16 year old children that were literally choked in front of hotel employees”

“We think it’s abundantly clear on all of the public record that the hotel not only should have known about it and (not) turned a blind eye, but had actual knowledge that sex trafficking was going on at this hotel,” McDonough said.

Lawyers initially filed four individual lawsuits in 2019, but since that time, another 11 survivors have come forward.

McDonough said the survivors came forward to try to “change the behavior at the hotels so this doesn’t happen to any other young girls in the future.”

Hotel lawyers have now filed a motion for summary judgement, arguing that the lawsuits shouldn’t be allowed to go forward.

Newell stopped by the Red Roof Inn on Wednesday and was told the manager was not around.

A representative for the Red Roof Inn sent a statement, saying,

“The company will fight these allegations vigorously. We condemn sex trafficking in all forms.”

#trafficking tw #csa mention #annoying they used the term prostitution when the sound of it this was pimping and possibly kidnapping

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whump-blog · 2 years

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The Name of a Stranger

Ch.1 - Masterlist

CW: BBU, slavery, implied sex trafficking/prostitution, nudity, abuse, low self-esteem, alcoholic character, dehumanisation

============

It was 4:50 p.m. and Trevor was leaning against his car waiting for Ray in the bar's parking lot. The last rays of sunlight were shining on the horizon and the sky was beginning to turn a bluish violet. The cold seeped through his jacket and with every breath steam escaped from his mouth.

As they had agreed the day before, at 5:00 p.m. he saw the guy coming out of the place dragging a dog carrier.

Through the metal bars of the cage, he could see that inside was the man he had seen the day before tied to the bed. As he relived the horrible memory, the anger, and the indignation he had felt also returned. But he needed to stay calm. He couldn't screw it up, not this time. So Trevor clenched his jaw and took a deep breath.

When Ray was standing just a few feet away from him, he let go of the dog carrier, causing the slave to whimper. The guy's response to this was to annoyingly kick the crate.

Before he lost his temper, Trevor interrupted the situation and asked Ray, "Do you have the box boy's documents?"

Ray took his attention off the person in the cage, turned to look at him and grinned, "I see you're hurried mate."

But the smile was short-lived as he saw the storm on Trevor's face. Ray promptly pulled several crumpled papers out of his jacket and handed them to him. "Here you go."

Trevor practically ripped the papers out of his hands and quickly read them. Once he was sure they were signed, he took a bag of money from inside his truck and shoved it into Ray's chest.

Ray didn't seem bothered by his attitude and opened the bag, smiling when he saw the content. "Hahaha, that's a lot of money for a fuck-toy! But," he chuckled, "you wanted this whore."

"Oh, by the way I almost forgot; here," from another of his pockets the guy pulled out an envelope and handed it to Trevor who looked at it confused, "What's this?"

"It's a little courtesy gift… I think you'll enjoy it" and without another word, Ray turned around and walked back inside the bar, counting the money as he smiled.

After that unpleasant moment, Trevor kept the envelope and took a few seconds to calm down with one of the exercises he had been taught in therapy. Once he could think a little more clearly, he focused on what he had to solve at that moment, and that was to free the box boy from his prison.

The poor thing was crumpled inside the cage, and like the day before, he had nothing on, except for a pink collar. Trevor was glad he had brought a blanket, which he was quick to fetch.

He approached the dog crate and struggled a little with the lock, trying to open it. From inside it, the man stared at him with large hazel eyes, framed by deep shadows that contrasted with his pale skin.

"Nice to meet you, sir" the pet greeted him timidly as he continued to struggle with the lock.

"Hi buddy," he replied nervous, "I'm going to get you out of here, just… just give me a sec-" The door opened with a clack, and Trevor hurried to place the light blue blanket around the man, trying not to look at him too much.

The pet clung to the blanket with one hand and crawled hesitantly out of the dog crate.

Once outside, Trevor offered him his hand. But the man looked at it, unsure whether to take it or not. He almost felt offended. But Trev thought that if he were in the pet's situation, he would also be cautious.

"Let me help you," Trevor offered, keeping his voice gentle.

When the pet finally took his hand, it felt cold and bony, like the hand of a corpse. And with that lifestyle, the poor thing probably hadn't been far from becoming one. Trevor said nothing and helped him to his feet.

Walking the few steps to the car was a slow process. The man was struggling to walk, and had only managed to reach the vehicle because he was leaning against his shoulder.

Once the pet was in the back seat, he asked, "Are you all right?"

"Yes sir. Thank you for your help, and… sorry for the inconvenience, it won't happen again," the slave replied politely, behind which a hint of nervousness was barely noticeable.

"You're all right, don't worry," he reassured him "make yourself comfortable, we're leaving" But as Trevor was about to close the back door the man raised his hand as if asking permission to ask a question.

"Yeah?"

"Erm… sir, don't forget the…" and without finishing the sentence, the pet pointed a slender finger in the direction of where the dog carrier had been left.

Although what he was really thinking was why a person would want to bring the object that was used to keep them trapped, he just replied "Oh, yes". Trevor closed the back door, picked up the dog carrier from the ground, placed it in the trunk and hurried into the car and out of the freezing weather. All he wanted to do was get out of there and go home.

He was in such a hurry that when he sat down in the driver's seat, he didn't notice an empty beer can he had left there. "Fuck," he cursed, throwing the can aside. I should clean the car, he thought as he observed how the rubbish had been piling up.

But more important, behind him, he heard the slave shifting nervously and hit himself mentally for acting like a noisy idiot.

Turning around and trying to play down the incident, he said, "By the way, my name is Trevor, Trevor Hale," his voice wavered for a moment, afraid he'd screwed up; worried that he'd scared the pet somehow, as he had done with others in the past.

When a few seconds passed without an answer he went on with a question "Do you have a name or… is there a way you would like me to call you?"

"Well, they call me Nicky sir," the man replied eagerly, "but if that name doesn't please you… you can call me whatever you wish, sir," he continued a little quieter.

"…well, I don't have a preference. If you like that name, that's fine with me."

After that statement, he seemed to have lifted a huge weight off Nicky's shoulders. As he was able to confirm with the pet's enthusiastic reply.

"Thank you sir, for granting me the privilege of a name."

Trevor opened his mouth to speak, but did not know what to say. He simply looked at Nicky in the rearview mirror and nodded. He put the keys in the ignition, the engine roared to life and the car shuddered. Trev turned on the heater and began to drive.

"Okay, we have a while until we get to the city, so if you want to lie down and sleep, that would be… fine."

Nicky didn't seem convinced by the idea at first, but it seems that exhaustion got the better of him. Not ten minutes into the drive and as he looked back once again, he could see the man asleep; clinging tightly to the blanket.

At some point it had become so dark that the road lights came on, adding a yellowish glow to the dark atmosphere.

============

Special thanks to @whumpinthepot for proof reading this chapter.

Here is a drawing of this chapter :)

Taglist: @whoopsitswhump - @winedark-whump - @whumpzone - @littlefantasiesofalittlegirl - @guachipongo - @batfacedliar-yetagain - @deusmor - @whumpinthepot

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marinerainbow · 6 months

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...

Career swap AU

Shiny is a big crime boss in Toontown. She's most renowned for the distribution of illegal substances and prostitution, but she is not above committing other crimes for the right price. She can very easily be cruel- she has to be to keep her power, but those within her inner circle know how playful and soft she can be. She's also known for having ~relations~ with whoever serves as her right hand. She had to 'fire' her latest confidant, and is on the lookout for someone new. Someone who has a good head on their shoulders, and could help out with paperwork (she does admit, that's not her biggest forte), but also has a heart that wouldn't cast her to the sharks the next chance they get... An added bonus would be if they were a cutie pie.

Poppy fell on hard times since Henry left her to Downtown. She wasn't so lucky to find a clean job here, but managed to find one in the entertainment industry... Even if it is a far different kind of entertainment she's not at all used to. She started out as just a pianist for the burlesque club, part of the band. But her boss has been trying to slowly integrate her in stage performances, knowing that she's too desperate to say no despite her stage fright. Right now, she can be seen as either a backup dancer, or will even have a sole singing performance. This has gained her quite a bit of unwanted attention, and Poppy has become far more wary of people now... The pretty weasel lady that comes in sometimes is nice though.

The weasels all still live together. However, they all managed to take a more lawful path. Smartass stayed in school and got his law degree. Greasy worked his way onto the radio and is constantly trying to convince his boss to let him play more risqué songs on his channel. Wheezy, after the war, started working as a dockworker carrying cargo to and from ships. Psycho always had an affinity with electricity and tinkering, and found a nice job with Toontowns electric company. Just be sure to keep an eye on him while he's in your house. And Stupid... It has been difficult for him to keep a steady job, but he does help around the house while the others are away. Someone's gotta take care of the place while everyone else is bust, right?

I kinda like this idea, though I'm not sure where I'm gonna go with it. So I'll just leave it here.

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lettucedloophole · 8 months

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and the higher rate of rapes and prostitution is because...? terfs are so deeply unserious. you can't pick and choose where you apply statistics.

#i have a couple theories as to why this happens but that's not really the point so #tw transmisogyny #tw sa mention #trans inclusive radical feminism #ex-terf #radical feminism #anti prostitution #tirf

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ravenzeppeli · 6 days

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Claimed

Chapter 40 - History Finds Itself Repeating|Formaggio + Illuso x Reader Angst|

Warning: strong/vulgar language, cheating, stalking, physical abuse, verbal abuse, noncon threat, choking [murder attempt], extremely dark chapter. MA.

2 Months Later

Formaggios POV

"Thanks," Formaggio muttered, tossing two 50s on the ground next to the random blonde that just finished sucking him off. "Make sure to keep your fucking mouth shut. Last bitch told my girl, she don't need to know this shit." He turned to the side, sliding the condom filled with cum off of his cock, letting it fall to the ground. The condom made a plop on the ground, his sticky white cum spilling out all over the alleyway floor.

"I'll keep my mouth shut," the girl muttered, snatching the money off of the ground. "Your cock is like, so amazing. I wish that you would be my boyfriend. You're so handsome."

A laugh escaped his lips, his eyes rolling. "You don't gotta compliment me for more money, honey. You did okay, I'll give you a little tip." He slid a 20 out of his pocket, this time handing it to the young woman on her knees in front of him. "My girl never fucking compliments me."

"I'm sorry," she replied, taking the 20 and shoving it in her bra, along with the two 50s. "If you're ever looking for a girlfriend, I would compliment you every day. A strong man like you deserves to be loved."

Money was a little tight, as it always is. The boss hardly paid him shit, but this little honey was feeding into his ego hard. Being complimented by a woman felt so nice. Why couldn't you compliment him like this? It'd be nice to hear how sexy and strong he was from the woman he loved instead of some random honey.

"Just take the rest of the night off, honey," he replied, slipping a 50 out of his pocket and handing it to her. "Buy yourself something pretty. And remember, if you run into my girl, walk the other way immediately. I don't wanna hear her pretty little mouth bitching me out for having fun." Fun, it was just harmless fun. Harmless fun that you wouldn't find out about again.

💜🧡💜🧡💜

Formaggio never felt bad about his personal affairs. What a man did in their private business was their business alone. He took good care of you, and he made sure that you were happy. Sharing you with six other men also made him feel less guilty about getting his dick sucked. It's not like he was fucking these girls and spending time with them. It was just a way to relax after a hard day. What's the harm in that?

He planned to approach you as soon as he entered the base, but you were already outside as he walked over to the front entrance. Illuso was standing directly beside you, his hand having an iron grip on your waist.

"I'm going to tell him what you've been doing," Illuso immediately snapped at you, unwrapping his arm from around you, his eyes locking onto Formaggio. "Are you fucking clueless? Am I fucking clueless?" He questioned, red eyes filled with a mix of panic and anger.

A feeling of anger quickly washed over Formaggio, looking past Illuso to land his glare directly on you. "What the fuck did you do?" He had no fucking clue what you could have possibly done, considering you were a pretty low maintenance and well behaved girlfriend. Never did he have to do much of anything with you unless he wanted too. He couldn't even recall a time where you've ever asked him for anything.

"I didn't do anything," you muttered, eyes dropping to the ground. "Just drop it, Illuso. You don't need to bring Formaggio or anyone else into this. We've all done bad things here, and my thing is less bad."

"Shut your fucking mouth," Illuso snapped at you, turning back to look at you. "It doesn't matter what the fuck we do! You mind your goddamn business like we mind ours when it comes to you! You fucked up, you crossed a goddamn line!"

"Fucks going on?" Formaggio questioned, stepping forward, feeling completely fucking clueless. What could you have possibly done that was so fucking bad? That would actually cause him to give the slightest fuck? "You cheating on us? That what it is?" A scoff escaped your lips, his eyebrows immediately shooting up in surprise. "Illuso, what did she do?" He didn't take his eyes off of you.

Illuso walked past Formaggio, hand reaching forward as he grabbed your jaw, his fingers tucking under your chin as he yanked your head up, forcing you to look at Formaggio, "She's been fucking following us. Watching us. For goddamn three months."

"What?" Formaggio questioned, more shocked than angry. How did he not know that you were watching him? This had to be a misunderstanding. You weren't capable of anything. For fucks sake, he never even let you use your stand, he just made you drive them around while they did the heavy lifting. All you were was just their pretty little girlfriend, you weren't capable of successful stalking anyone. Suddenly, he laughed, shaking his head. "If you caught her doing it once then it doesn't mean that she's done it before." Fuck, Illuso was an idiot.

At times, you were a little sneaky. He'll give you that. During the night, you always seemed to slip out of his bed before he woke up. It's been months since he's woken up, and you've been next to him. Even when he clings to you, you still find a way to sneak out of his bed and go sit on the couch or in the dining room. Maybe you were just good at walking on your toes, he didn't fucking know.

Illuso let out a dry laugh, "She's been paying the girls that have been sucking our dicks." His grip seemed to tighten as the amusement suddenly draining from Formaggios face. "Wanna know how I found out? It was pure fucking luck, all because I mark the money that I give Y/N." His eyes immediately cut over to you. "You think you're so fucking smart, don't you? Think you're smart enough to embarrass us and never get caught?"

"You only got caught because you do what he does," you spoke calmly, giving your shoulders a gentle shrug. "It's more complex than that."

Formaggio felt as if his heart was about to explode out of his chest. With disbelief, he stared at you, shocked that you actually did all of this without getting caught. "How did you catch her?" He muttered, not taking his glare off of you as he stepped closer, leaning down slightly so that he was in your face. "More complex?" He felt like a goddamn idiot. How could he not have realized you were watching him? How did he not know that you were aware of his cheating? Goddamnit!

"I went to get my dick sucked this morning. Asked the girl for change, and she pulled out a bunch of 20s," Illuso spoke, shaking his head. "When I give Y/N money, I mark the right hand corner with a small red x to see if she ever uses the money I give her. When I threatened to blow the girls brains out, she spilled the beans and told me everything. Says our little girlfriend approached her and some other girls, paying them to give us longer and better blow jobs."

"Why the fuck would you want us to cheat on you?" Formaggio snapped, his hands balling into fists. "Y/N, what the fuck?"

You said nothing, your eyes dropping to avoid his glare. Visibly, you were stiff, uncomfortable with how close he was. How close they both were. Nearly 8 months together, and still you couldn't stand him. Still you made him fuck you with a condom on as if he had a fucking disease. All this was starting to really get under his skin, and he had a feeling that Illuso felt the same way as him.

"She's trying to get us to fall in love with another girl," Illuso muttered, his hands dropping to your throat, jaw locking. "That fucking bitch told me everything Y/N. How you approached them and were paying them, telling them be extra nice to us and compliment us. I was wondering why all these random cunts were saying my dicks amazing and I'm fucking attractive. You fucking little.. you.. you fucking..." He seemed to be struggling to find the words, his hand grasping tighter at your throat. "How dare you humiliate me!"

Formaggio stepped back a little, not being able to take his eyes off of you. This was insane. He had no idea that you were capable of doing something like this for months without getting caught. On top of that, all these random women now think that his girl hates him! This was a tricky situation because both Illuso and him did tell you that they wouldn't cheat on you. So your lie was just a reflection of their lie, so what the fucks he supposed to do?

"Can't we just be coworkers?" You questioned softly, that getting you an instant slap across the face from Illuso. "Is that a yes? We can just coexist together. You can do your thing, guys, and it'll be fine. I just feel like it would be better if you both broke up with me." The slap didn't even make you flinch, the red handprint mark staining the side of your cheek, your head remaining in place.

"You're gonna get a beating," Illuso snapped, raising his hand, Formaggio immediately noticing that it was a fist. Quickly, he grabbed Illusos fist, dragging him away from you. "Man, what are you doing!? We need to beat her ass! She's been doing crazy shit all because she wants us to dump her!"

Beating you was something that Formaggio so badly wanted to do. Of course, he wanted to punch you in the face and bend you over his lap. So badly, did he want to scream at you and threaten you for stalking him, scare you so badly that you throw up all over yourself like you did last time. When you acted up, you deserved a good beating. That's just what happened when you crossed lines. But a different idea suddenly crossed his mind.

"You know, a lot of times you've stalked Illuso and I, it's been at night," Formaggio added in, causing Illuso to immediately freeze. "Doesn't Ghiaccio have a certain rule that forbids you from going out at night all alone? One that will get you in trouble with him?" You weren't the only one that fucking knew things.

Dread washed over your face, a smirk quickly spreading over Illusos. "I think I should give Ghiaccio a call and tell him," Illuso added in. "I bet he would be so fucking pissed at you. It would probably ruin your relationship with him."

Formaggio let Illuso go, staring into your eyes and finally seeing that you were nervous. This was his chance. "We aren't going to be leaving you. In fact, I think it's time you tell us something very important." He placed his hands on your shoulders, forcing you down to your kness. "Get on your knees you stalking cunt, don't say shit or I'll call Ghiaccio."

You let him force you to your kness, a smug look appearing on Illusos' face as he stepped forward. "Look up at us." Grabbing a fistful of your hair as he leaned down, he snatched your head back, forcing you to look at them. "You're so smart, aren't you? We'll turn you into a dumb bitch."

"Don't hurt me," you muttered, "I didn't do anything wrong. If anything, I was helping you both out. I don't love either of you, I want you to spend more time with those other girls. The less I see you both the better." How are you still not fucking scared of them? You should be begging not to get beat, not pushing them further!

"You disobedient bitch," snapped Illuso, but his grip loosened on your hair. "I love you, you clueless fucking cunt! I fucking love you! That was the first time in two months that I cheated!"

Formaggio smacked Illusos' arm. "It's not cheating if it's condom blow jobs! It's not cheating if we fucking pay for it!" He raised his hand again, wanting to slap Illuso, but that was mainly due to his frustration with you. "Illuso, fuck this bitch. Fuck her. She doesn't love us. She never will. She's just pussy, that's all she'll ever be in this family."

"I'm a part of this team, and you'll never be able to get rid of me," you spat out, your blank face turning dark. A glare that he found more cute than threatening spread across your face, your eyes locking onto Formaggio. "You are a garbage excuse for a man. I hate you, and I hate you more than I hate Illuso. Laying down next to you at night makes me feel sick. I hate when you fucking touch me. I'll never care about you cheating, it just makes you look like a jackass. Enjoy never being cared about by me, I can't stand you bitch. Call Ghiaccio and tell him. I don't give a fuck."

A man can only take so much before they snap. Fuck it, he didn’t give a fuck. Fuck holding back and not hitting you. With all of his force he raised his fist, cracking it into the side of your skull. He didn't care about damaging you brain. In this moment he found himself wanting to fucking rip you apart. If only he was allowed to use his stand on you. He would shrink you and finally make you feel fear. Risotto knew all of them so well, it was smart that he forbid the men from using their stands on you. If he didn't respect and secretly fear Risotto then he would break that rule, but he wouldn't dare cross his capo.

Your head roughly jerked to the side, blood beginning to pour from the side of your skull. If it wasn't for the grip that Illuso had on your hair, then you would have probably collapsed. Illuso immediately let go of your hair, your back leaning against the brick wall as your head limply hung. Silence came from you, your body still as a rock despite the drops of blood that puddled in front of you.

"You want me as an enemy, you fucking bitch!?" Formaggio yelled at you, pushing back Illuso roughly as he tried to grab him. "You got one now. We are done, just like you want. You aren't my girl anymore, and now that I have no reason to protect you I'm going to make your life a living hell! I'm going to break you, I'm going to destroy you!" He dropped to his kness in front of you, hands tightly grasping around your throat, forcing you to look at him. Forcing you to show fear. "CRY! YOU FUCKING CUNT, CRY!"

With speed, you spit in his face, coating his face with your bloody spit. A forced smile suddenly spread across your lips, and that smile was meant to taunt him. "I'm free from you. Why cry?"

"If we fuck her up too bad then we're fucked," Illuso quickly added in just as Formaggios hands tightly locked around your throat. "Let go of her throat man, you're going too far." He felt Illusos hand on his shoulder, attempting to pull him back.

Just as he was about to let go, you said something that completely stunned him. "You drove your family to suicide," you gasped out, your voice hoarse. "You're a curse!"

The consequences were clear and laid out in front of him. If you died because of him, then his death would follow. Hell, even Illuso might end up dying. Killing you would be him outright betraying his entire team as well as the little bit of love he had for you. He did love you, in his own sick and twisted way, but he didn't have self-control right now. Not after what you just fucking said to him. Today.. all three of them were going to die and he didn't care. He wasn't afraid of death. Fuck this. Fuck everything. How dare you bring up his mom and sister.

"I LOVED MY MOM AND SISTER!" He screamed, beginning to squeeze as tightly as he could, watching the life drain from your eyes. Good. Die. "Die, die you fucking cunt! I hope you burn in fucking hell bitch!"

"Formaggio, no!" Illusos fist suddenly cracked into the side of Formaggios face, his nose immediately leaking blood as he let go of your throat, his nose making a weird popping sound. "She's my girlfriend too! You can't fucking kill her! Want us all to die!?"

"FUCK HER!" Formaggio snapped, quickly getting off at you, ignoring your low gasps for air. He grabbed his nose, giving your stomach a rough kick as he got up, a satisfied hum escaping his lips as you finally yelped in pain. "Look at you now.. pathetic as you were the last time I beat the fuck out of you!"

Temporarily, he let his anger turn towards Illuso. He raised his hand to punch Illuso, freezing when he felt your hands suddenly wrap around his ankles, weakly attempting to pull his leg back. What the fuck?! You should be crying in pain and begging for his mercy!

"P-pussy," you spat out, voice hoarse and weak. "I.. would have.. finished the job!"

Formaggio reached for his gun, Illuso grabbing his hand, stopping him from blowing your brains out. "Let's just fucking leave. She's supposed to be spending the night with me. We'll just leave her at the base. Fuck it," Illuso told him, keeping his eyes on him. "Please don't fucking kill her. Just chill man."

You let go of his ankle, your hand grasping the brick wall as you began to slowly rise to your feet, your face completely hidden from him. From a gap in your hair, he saw a dark bruise on your neck, a pool of blood surrounding you. "Just.. fuck off.. let me be.. alone," you whispered, slowly moving towards the door. "Both of you.. no more.. relationship. Break up forever." You were hardly making any sense, but he could get what you were trying to say.

"I didn't break up with you," Illuso snapped at you. "And I never will! You are my girl, and you are a Formaggios girl, whether you like it or not! Go be a good girl and clean yourself up and go lay the fuck down!"

"Scum," you spat at him, a sigh immediately escaping his lips as he reached past you, opening the base of the front door with one agressive twist and push. "Bitch."

"Go to bed," Illuso commanded, pointing inside of the base. "We love you. Don't you fucking forget that. Families fight but they stick together."

"Neither one of you are my family," you muttered, this coming out more clear as you shuffled into the house. "Dumb fucks."

The insults were pissing Formaggio off, making him want to attack, but he was holding his composition. You were too far for him to successfully be able to prick your finger and shrink you without Illuso striking, and maybe killing you was a bad idea. In so many ways, you provided them with love and comfort. That was something that he didn't want to let go of despite almost taking your life. Fuck.. he made a mistake.

"You're still my girl bitch," Formaggio called out, keeping his eyes on you as you vanished into the base. "And I'll be coming back here expecting an apology real soon! Straighten yourself out cunt, I can do what I want with you! I'll fuck you up while I fuck you! I could fuck you right now if I wanted too!"

"Don't threaten to rape her man," Illuso snapped, his eyes going wide. "Fuck, you need to take a break from her! Stop talking to her, and you shut the fuck up too Y/N!"

Formaggio assumed it was over until he heard your footsteps immediately running back, something immediately crashing into the side of his skull. "Goddamnit!" He screamed as he heard something shatter, his hand immediately raising to the side of his face. Blood leaked from the left side of his face, his eyes trailing down to a broken glass ashtray in front of him. No way. No goddamn way did you actually come back and throw something at him. He was stunned, completely stunned that you dared to throw something at him.

"How about I fuck you!?" You screamed, rushing towards him. "I'll fuck you up! Want me to rape you!? I'll do it, I'll be the one that ends you before you end me!"

Illuso launched at you before you could get to Formaggio, lifting you up. "Y/N, relax! Nobody is raping anyone, for fucks sake! Formaggio, just leave, I'm staying with her!" He dragged you into the base, slamming the door shut. "Hey, do not fucking hit me! Stop it right now Y/N, I'm in no mood to have a fist fight with you!"

Formaggio stood stunned, his eyes wide, actual tears filling his eyes as he realized that he made a big mistake. It didn't matter if Little Feet made no appearance. With his bare hands, he almost murdered you. If Illuso hadn't cracked him in the nose, then he probably would have killed you. Fuck. This was very bad.

The blood pouring from his head and nose indicated that he probably needed to go get looked at. The pain he felt throughout his entire body was sharp, a low ringing beginning form in his ears. Almost killing you should have broken you, but from the banging and yelling that he heard from Illuso inside indicated he might have awoken something very bad in you. This was too far. All you did was stalk them and pay some girls to compliment them. Why does he instantly lose his cool? He just couldn't help it. The fact that you still didn't love him and made him wear a condom to fuck you.. it really bothers him.

Going in there and helping Illuso with you would be a bad idea, considering that you were attempting to fucking attack him. Hopefully he could convince you to keep your mouth shut or come up with a good lie. Fuck, he needed to convince you to keep being his girl too. Thank God Melone and Ghiaccio were out of town for a few days, and Pesci didn't fucking intimidate him. You just could not tell Risotto. Now that he was starting to calm down this wasn't worth dying for, and he might just end up getting fucking killed for what he did to you.

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gwenevieves-travels · 3 months

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Meet the gang Pt. 1!

#Backstory post #assault mention #forced prostitution mention #tw fictional violence #rdo ocs #red dead online #red dead online ocs #rdr2 ocs #rdr2 oc #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #meet the gang #gwenevieves.travels

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surpriseattack · 11 months

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𝙷𝙾𝚆 𝙿𝚄𝚁𝙴 𝙰𝚁𝙴 𝚄

Noir is disgusting and unpure

He did kill a bunch of Nazis, freed black folks — including his best friend who was experimented on by a Nazi, busted a Prostitution and Drug ring in Harlem, among many other morally good deeds but he did name his cat : 𝙳𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙳𝙸𝙽𝙶 and that's a punishable crime. So yeah, that tracks.

#For all the good that Noir has done...#him naming his cat Ding Ding is a crime against humanity.#` ⸻ ❛ 𝙲𝙰𝚂𝙴 𝙵𝙸𝙻𝙴 𝙽𝙾. 𝟶𝟹 : newspaper clippings ( notes ) .▐#nazi mention tw #prostitution mention tw #drug mention tw

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sgrspiced-a · 6 months

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morphling is very important to my interpretation of finnick. introduced to it as a fifteen year old by a sponsor who needed him not to move, finnick quickly realizes how addicting it is to feel nothing. he struggles with this addiction from fifteen onward, and only really attempts to drop it completely when he becomes a mentor himself. even then, it’s always a struggle in the back of his mind.

#csa tw #prostitution tw #drug mention tw #drug abuse tw #saw this guy and went let’s make his life sad as fuck #HC: finnick.

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eventiderpg · 6 months

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Transgressions within the Transmissions

In the eyes and ears of The Capitol, Cinna begins to fade away like a distant memory. Or at least by Day 50, few speak publicly about the stylist anymore. The air retreats to normalcy, like war isn't impending outside of city boarders. Social events, the avant-garde attire, and the latest gossip flow once again. Though nothing can be as normal as it seems.

By Day 58, propos seem to be targeting holos nonstop. Those that continue Panem's traditionalist messages are not uncommon to be seen. However, it's the infiltration of Rebellion propos that might turn an eye or two. The occurrence had not gathered attention from credible news channels nor the incredible Caesar Flickerman - that was until one saw its way for Peeta Mellark's interview. The following are just a few experiences within the last week regarding sudden propo infiltration amongst those residing in The Capitol.

Domitila viewed Effie Trinket's Pro-Rebel propo

as the images flicker through the screen, domitila's pose falters. thankfully, the woman on the footage is also hesitating, which gives domitila a moment to try and pick at details to figure out who the person is — it comes with some struggle as all she can see is the drab greys, the lifeless hair do, the paleness of the figure. in all of her years, she has never seen someone looking so ghastly (thea ellis does not count) and the stylist's gaze goes from inquisitive to scornful as the appearance and the words fit together, such opposites to the very woman she knew: effie trinket, always so eye-catching, yet so in tune with everything of the capitol. a scoff leaves domitila's lips. how self-righteous of the darling miss trinket. "one would think she did not parade with all that the capitol has to offer with a ready smile on her face." anyone who is anybody has seen effie around the parties once she finally got a chance to rise the ladder, squawking around her poor excuse for victors. how she had loathed the woman and all who accompanied them, who had robbed her tributes the chance for a real victory. panem certainly deserves better. it deserves better than someone who is so volatile they'd hop to another side — and not even a good one. "look at her face!" obviously, this is an important point. how can anyone in their right mind present themselves so poorly?!

Lyah Yazbek viewed Sterling Whitvale's Pro-Rebel propo

A mid-morning talk show had been playing when it happened; some renowned Capitol chef walking the audience through decadent new dish he had developed only for the feed to cut to a shaky frame of a familiar face. Lyah had never met Sterling, but all her years of catching reruns of Waking Up with the Whitvales and flipping through magazine spreads ensured she knew his face. He looked tense, nervous even, however, his gruff voice still managed a tender note as he recounted the finer details of his first encounter with Cecelia. For a moment she debated reaching for the remote and shutting it off, but something about the softness in the man’s eyes and sincerity in his voice kept her watching. She couldn’t look away. The whole thing is over just as quick as it started. Sterling finishes the anecdote by saying he “wouldn’t change a goddamn thing about it,” and the screen cuts back to two rather distraught looking anchors. Lyah suddenly wished she had had the strength to change the channel or turn it off entirely. Was it supposed to hurt? It had been far from the first time the rebels had managed to disrupt Capitol broadcast, but it had been so different. Instead of exploiting yet another victor-turned-victim, this had been just a man proclaiming the love he had for his wife. It didn’t make sense. What were the rebels doing? Trying to paint themselves as innocent? To humanize themselves? Whatever they were trying to do, it gave her a headache. Lyah reached for the remote sitting on the marble-topped coffee table sitting before her and the screen went dark. She sat silently for a moment, unable to redirect herself as she replayed it all in her mind again and again until a thought came to her. When the rebels had access to all those victor, including Cecelia, a woman known in the Capitol for her beauty and poise, why had they chosen Sterling?

Tiberius Germaine viewed Lyah Yazbek's Pro-Capitol propo

His thumb freezes over the piece of sheet music, fingers falling still over the keys of his piano, music falling silent as the viewing screen in his sitting area springs to life. Blue eyes shift to the screen, his body turning to face the screen as the clips plays. Tiberius recognizes the woman, of course he does. Lyah, a victor from District Five. He didn't know her well though. The clip is short and just as quickly as it had appeared on his viewing screen, the screen is black again. He stares at the dimmed screen for several seconds, did she really believe that the rebels would be welcomed back with open arms? She was naive if she did. Anyone who was associated with the rebellion would undoubtably be killed possibly after torture if the Capitol were to come out victorious in this war. He sighs, the piano forgotten as he stands from the bench. His hand is run over the top of his head, anxious habit from a time in which he'd had hair. Things are getting worse and now the Capitol seems to be trying to lay traps. Come home darlings, we'll let you back in with open arms. There's room for you still. Yea right. It's more likely to be a ruse, call the rebels back to the Capitol to face another mass execution. He wonders if Lyah realizes this, possibly, but of course again she could be naive enough to believe it.

Xiomara Pena viewed Cadence Kentwell's Pro-Rebel propo

She was still in bed (Domi would surely have something to say if she could see Xio now), when someone's voice echoed through her otherwise empty apartment asking a question about the rebellion and Cadie? The brunette's brow crinkled and she rolled out of bed, leaving her blankets hanging half off her bed and grabbing a small butterfly knife off the top of a dresser. Rebellion? She was no rebel. And she was certainly no friend of Cadie. How had they gotten into her apartment? A long moment of silence followed the question and it was only as Xio came into the living room that she realized this was a recording. She scoffed, leaning over the couch and reaching for the remote for the television. But then Cadie began to speak. Xio listened incredulously. "You act like you're the only one who's lost loved ones to the Games." She muttered angrily, ignoring the fact she might feel the same if Aléjandra had ever volunteered. "That doesn't give you a reason to rebel. Clove wouldn't want this, you... a rebel. And you act as if... as if you didn't enjoy the parties and extravagance." She realizes she's talking to a recording, Cadie can't hear her. Her words are wasted. Fuck this. She tries to hit the power button, but the screen stays on so she launched the knife in her hand at it, watching as the blade embedded into the device and the screen shattered. She'd just buy a new one. But she would not listen to the nonsense the rebellion had drilled into the woman she'd at one time considered almost a friend.

Sarah Kline viewed Finnick Odair's Pro-Rebel propo

Her mascara wand halted mid air as a familiar voice echoed against the walls of her apartment. Blue eyes shifted subtly so her gaze could go to the source of the sound. Finnick. Lonely. He mentioned loneliness and complexity. A lack of preparation. Sarah knew for a fact that was a lie. There was no loneliness for Finnick Odair. Not when he was surrounded by the adoring people of the Capitol. And he was prepared. How could he not be with the amount of pr that was arranged for him. Sarah had tried to ignore the murder part. She had tried to swallow back any and all doubts that might linger in the back of her head. Suppress the sting of betrayal she had felt. Not necessarily because they had lied to her, but because she was left in the dark. Because she hadn't belonged. Because she was not part of the team, despite her many efforts. She continued to listen to his words and her own thoughts of protest got cleared to the background. Her mind went to those subtle moments of resistance. When he needed convincing. His expression when he thought no one was looking at him. Sarah had caught it before. Had dismissed it as stubbornness or even arrogance. It was what she had concluded it to be when he betrayed her the way he had. Lashes fluttered shut, she sniffled and softly cleared her throat. "Manipulating. Manipulator - I am being manipulated." She sucked in some air, paused and exhaled. Elbow rested on her vanity and her palm pressed against her brow in defeat; careful to avoid the recently applied make up. Blues shifted back to her reflection. "It's all fake."

With no end to the Rebellion in sight, the prevalence of propos occuring is likely to increase. Information is power. It is on the residents of The Capitol to decide whether what's being aired is true or not. And if they find themselves siding with the rebel forces, then they can only hope to have a better fate than Cinna.

With our Mockingjay era plot drops, these will be similar to the Claudius and Caesar updates. You are absolutely welcome to write a self-para or actively do threads in relation to this plot drop! If you choose to roleplay this on the dash, please tag your threads with both #eventideevent04 as well as #eventidetwtt. Our players are now welcome to play through day fifty-eight.

This plot drop does not effectively pause time in the roleplay. It does however signify that we are getting closer to the rescue mission in this era. Happy roleplaying and thank you for your patience!

#death mention tw #forced prostitution tw #eventideplot #eventidetwtt #eventideevent04

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