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Bad Things Happen Bingo: Mischief

Count: ~800
Chara(s): A god of Mischief (OC*)
Pairing(s): N/A
Fandom: Org Fic – Fae Apoc xover
Prompt: Muzzled

So this.  This is a series of stories taking place in my universe, Fae Apoc, at the time just before the aforementioned apoc.  Portals are opening up to one other world at that time, and in this story, well, they happen to open up into a whole BUNCH of worlds. 

And from those worlds, a bunch of poor soon-to-be-victims-of-bad-things who bear some resemblances to fandom characters happen to slip through some portals.  And then bad things happen to them. 

Because that, after all, is the name of the Bingo.

Content warnings: bondage, capture, humiliation

This is technically Chapter Four.  Chapter Three (Genius) and Chapter One (Asset) will return later. 


4. Mischief

He’d really pissed off someone this time.  

Mischief wasn’t sure how they’d taken him down; generally he could get out of any trap.  That was, after all, what he was known and made for. Causing chaos. Getting out of trouble.  Causing more trouble.

But right now, he was in a cage, and they had put a muzzle on him.

The worst indignity of all, the thing that was making him glare at the bars as if without words he might be able to tear them off their hinges, was that they hadn’t even done that specially for him.  

There were people in three of the other cages, and they were all wearing muzzles and wooden collars.

After that, the indignity of being naked seemed hardly important.

But he was Mischief, and he wasn’t going to put up with anything like that.  He could pull on illusion without speaking. He could pull on illusion without his magic.  He could pull on illusion while half-dead and bleeding out.

He pulled his favorite court jacket and trews out of the air and wrapped them around himself.  He tried for a smirk, but the muzzle pressed at his lips and his cheeks.

It was a nasty thing – splintery wood, like the collar, and metal, a piece over his tongue in metal with little spikes in it, and bands under his chin and over his nose.  He had been muzzled before – by the court of his father, for being what he was. By the enemies of his father’s court, for the same reason. Those muzzles had been frustrating, annoying, and in the end, had shown that he had been caught doing his job, being exactly what he was supposed to. Continue reading

Bad Things Happen Bingo: The Hunter, I

Count: ~4800
Chara(s): A Hunter with some demon blood (OC)
Pairing(s): N/A
Fandom: Org Fic – Fae Apoc xover
Prompt: Most Dangerous Game

So this.  This is a series of stories taking place in my universe, Fae Apoc, at the time just before the aforementioned apoc.  Portals are opening up to one other world at that time, and in this story, well, they happen to open up into a whole BUNCH of worlds. 

And from those worlds, a bunch of poor soon-to-be-victims-of-bad-things who bear some resemblances to fandom characters happen to slip through some portals.  And then bad things happen to them. 

Because that, after all, is the name of the Bingo.

Content warnings: violence, death, bondage, capture, drugging, visions. 

This is technically Chapter Two because I started writing this before I found the bingo.  Chapter One will return later. 


A. Intro

The team had found their portal – isolated, comfortable, close enough to a major road for shipping purposes.  They had set up their force of former soldiers. They had the cages.

They were expecting to catch just the would-be gods coming through from Elleheim.  People would pay good money to have a would-be god on a leash.

But then the portals started spitting out some interesting people.  People who didn’t think they were gods. People, as it turned out, from other universes.

The team was fine with that.  They’d sell them, too.

B. Hunter

Chase had been in the cage for three days and it was beginning to feel like a vacation.

He had done all the banishment rituals he could remember, though that was really his kid brother Dan’s job and, naked like he was, he’d been a little short on ways to draw any sort of warding circle or even a basic sigil.  He’d chanted bad Latin until the guards had put a muzzle on him; he’d tried every bar in the cage (twice); he’d tried the wooden floor and ceiling to the thing and found them surprisingly tough. Even with the sometimes-sporadic powers he still wasn’t supposed to have, he couldn’t crack even the wood ceiling.

He’d done everything he was supposed to, so he took the opportunity to rest.  The cage was big enough for him to lay down; it came with a pillow and a blanket, and that meant the only thing he had on his plate was trying to convince his captors to take the damn muzzle off so he could be done with a liquid-slurry diet.

Except this time the handlers were coming with the prods, and they weren’t bringing dinner.  He stood and moved towards the back of the cage. There were three of them. He could take three of them easy.  He’d taken more than that when he landed here, before they knocked him out.

Thing was, was it a smart thing to do?  If he cooperated, maybe he’d get more leeway.  Maybe they’d take the damn muzzle off. Maybe he’d have an opening to get out of here.

It might be a vacation, but he was starting to miss his kid brother, and, besides, there was shit to do back home.

“Kneel, hands behind your head,” the middle handler told him, sounding bored.  Well, they couldn’t have that, could they? Chase grinned at them – tried to; the damn muzzle didn’t give him a lot of expression leeway – and gestured like he couldn’t hear them.

“Last warning, or it gets unpleasant.”  Nobody raised their voice at all. The middle handler stepped forward.  “Kneel, hands behind your head, or you make the trip on a dolly with a tranq dart so far up your ass the needle’ll be tickling your eyeballs.”

Well, when you put it that way… Chase knelt, his hands behind his head.

“See?  I knew you could learn.”  The left-hand one stepped in and cuffed Chase’s hands – to the damn wooden collar, of course – while the other two kept their weapons trained on him until he was cuffed, shackled, and then lifted up into the waiting van. Continue reading