One Shots

"(I want to) Fuck You, Saviour"

I sighed to myself and glanced around the alley as I delivered one final kick to Samuel's side. Even when he's able to see into the future, he's still useless at foreseeing my attacks. I just wish he would leave me alone. All I want to do is talk to the couple hundred people that put my mother and father in prison, and then "Sammy the Saviour" (as I like to call him) has to go running in, thinking that I want to hurt them. Just because I grew up in Alabama and learnt how to take apart and reassemble guns when I was five (and shot my first Alligator when I was ten), Sam immediately thinks that I'm physically unable to have a conversation with someone I disagree with without seriously injuring them.

I looked at his bloodied body with a grimace. If Sam hadn't have tried to hit me first when I was on my way home from University, then he wouldn't be lying on the floor in a pool of his own blood.

I grumbled to myself as I placed my hands over the cuts that littered his body due to the steel toed boots I wear. I put pressure on his wound with my right hand while I dug around in his bag with my left. I found some bandages and gauze stashed away in a side compartment and then I set about fixing him up. Just because he's an asshole, it doesn't mean that I am.

And anyway, if he died, then I would have no one to jerk off to or dream about, would I?

Oh, don't look so shocked. You knew that I would be queer with a name like Bloody Behmoth. My power was that I could shapeshift my form into any that I wanted but the easiest one was that of a Behemoth, which looks like a hairless Mammoth covered in smoldering rocks.

You might have wondered why I said "the easiest one". Shape changing required energy and focus, which I didn't have a lot of, what with me having Insomnia and ADHD. It's fine though, I just fight Sam until I'm tired enough to sleep.

Just looking at his face covered in bruises and blood makes me feel hot under the collar, which usually leads to me doing something about the warm neck situation, which makes it easy for me to sleep. So what, I'm a sadist? It doesn't change the fact that I want to bash his face in as he fucks me...

I nodded to myself as I finished wrapping the bandage around his waist. When I felt him start to stir awake I panicked slightly and punched him, causing his already weakened body to go slack in my arms as consciousness fled him.

I groaned as his heavy mass somehow grew even heavier. He started to drool slightly on me as he snored while I walked him to his house. Everyone knew where he lived, it wasn't like he tried to hide it. I swore under my breath as I glanced around the quiet street before allowing wings to sprout from my back as I had no idea how else to get him in his bed to rest. This happened every time I won against him in a fight. I would patch him up, take him home and tuck him into bed. His religious ass probably just thought it was "God" helping him.

I dumped him onto his floor and started to drag his duvet from the mattress. I hiked his still unconscious body up onto the bed and then set about pulling his jeans and boots off to make him more comfortable. I folded his jeans and set them on the desk chair in the corner of the room and then laid his blanket on top of him.

Now that I'm done with taking care of him I can go see my parents.

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After successfully writing "Justin Woods" in my sloppy handwriting (and trying to get my hands to stop shaking due to the lack of food I've eaten today) on a slip of paper, both of my parents were brought to the meeting hall in handcuffs, which wasn't very unusual considering they did assassinate the Prime Minister's family for the money to pay for date night, so they had to wear the clearly despised handcuffs. I thought nothing of seeing both of them at once, just happy to see them again.

I grinned at them as my mother smiled softly at me while my father gave me a brief nod. Just as I was going to say hi, they both told me something that would nearly ruin my life and everything I had worked so hard for. I nearly cried on the spot, but I had to remind myself to stay strong as my parents faces morphed to strangers through a thick veil of water begging to slip from my eyes.

I ran out of there, feeling very disoriented and sprinted to the only safe place I could think of. I shimmied up the drain pipe and slipped under the covers after removing my shoes, snivelling when a pair of strong arms wrapped themselves around my waist and pulled me into a warm chest. I could feel the bandages press against my lower back as he breathed, his respiration lulling me to sleep.