#((he's either gonna pass out from blood loss OR make it back to town to get stitched up))

[theheadlessgroom]

@beatingheart-bride

Emily's kick seemed to really do the trick, as Nicholas let go of Randall's neck and rolled off of him in a daze, while Randall himself coughed and gasped for air, rubbing his sore throat while Nicholas groaned, seeming dazed as he struggled to his feet, legs wobbly as he did. He made a feeble attempt at rushing one of them (given how unfocused his gaze was, it was near-impossible to know who), but in doing so, he earned a punch across the jaw from Elizabeth, causing him to stumble back, swaying on his feet as Randall, having recovered, got to his feet, eyes dark with anger.

In that moment, he remembered. He remembered it all-searing pain across his throat, Emily's terrified screams as his disembodied head gushing blood soared through the air, landing in a lonely hatbox. It filled his stomach with acid, set his blood ablaze, filled him with a righteous anger that made his vision turn red, and his hands ball into fists.

Honestly, he could've killed Nicholas where he stood-he very easily could've made him feel everything he made him and Emily feel, that lifetime ago. But to stoop to his level...that sickened him, and so, as the coup de grace, Randall socked Nicholas clean in the nose, finally knocking the lout out flat on the ground. He lived, only knocked out cold by this finishing punch.

"What should we do with him?" Mrs. Henshaw asked, tempting to give him a kick in the side for good measure, but Beau, as he checked on everyone, replied with a shrug, "I say we leave him here, to be quite honest. By the time he comes around, we'll be long gone, and if he tries to tattle on our little plan, well...who's going to believe him? To the ears of everyone in New Orleans, it'll sound like Mr. Pennyworth was bitter that Dorian upstaged him, upset that he didn't get to have Emily's hand, and is trying to drag him through the mud out of spite, and with an outlandish-sounding story to boot. He'll be ostracized, and I believe, to him, that'll be a fate worse than death."

There was a murmur of agreements at this, as Dorian wrapped a loving arm around Elizabeth's waist, pulling her close to him, while Randall embraced Emily, burying his face in her shoulder, so grateful that she was alright. His eyes were damp with tears as memories filled his mind, good and bad, and he swallowed hard as he closed his eyes.

Thank you, he thought to himself, to no one in particular-perhaps a guardian angel, if they happened to be smiling upon him (which he certainly felt they were). Thank you for this second chance-thank you for our life!

[writefandoms]

Boo Boo

Adrian Tepes x Female!Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Summary: After a small fight, you two make up in the oddest of ways.

Sculpted by the gods. That’s the best way to describe the dhampir, Adrian Tepes.

He always scoffs when you say stuff like that. But the pink that dusts his pale cheeks is enough to keep the compliments flowing.

Love is a powerful word to describe your feelings for one another. Too powerful- it makes you a bit clammy thinking about it. Four letters but enough to break a person's entire being.

Adrian isn’t as in tune with his emotions as he may like to appear. Either pushing them away, or letting them devour him completely. No in between. Not the healthiest individual, but neither were you.

That’s what makes this all the more terrifying. Working to better yourselves, for each other. Wanting to be a healthier, more open minded person. Together- for each other.

It’s kind of romantic, wanting to change for the better.

Baby steps at first, beginning with drinking more water and eating healthier. Adrian constantly nags you for all the junk you eat, so you allow him to cook whatever he deems “proper cuisine”.

For Adrian, he’s working on relaxing. As bizarre as that sounds, trying to wrestle the man down for an afternoon nap is almost impossible. Now for a half hour a day, he has to either meditate or nap. No reading, or eating, or whatever mindless hobby he’s picked up. Just sitting there, alone with his thoughts.

This little self help duo you formed has been going well for the most part. Up until he showed up.

It wasn’t a big surprise when newcomers came to the little village Adrian founded. Most of them are stragglers, wandering from town to town then leaving after a few nights. And sometimes, rarely, they even come to have dinner in the castle.

He said his name was ‘Owen’, but after the stunt he pulled you’re not even sure that was his real name.

It was your idea to invite him over for dinner, after he told you a sob story about his awful travels and the loss of his parents. Pity invite, but an invite nonetheless.

“Lovely home you got.” His eyes roamed the beautiful interior.

“Thanks but it’s not mine. Adrian’s father passed it down to him.”

“You don’t say.” Even then you should have noticed his wandering eyes.

Dinner went well, he talked about his parents and seemed like a genuinely decent guy. Someone who’s had shit luck and needed to see that there was still goodness in the world.

Well that genuine nature turned out to be a load of horseshit. He wandered off to “take a leak” and you both found him in the attic, trying to swipe some magic weapons. He panicked and grabbed a nearby dagger, swinging it at you. It only nicked you but Adrian beat him to a pulp. You don’t know if the man would be alive if you weren’t there.

After kicking him out and threatening him never to return, it’s been tense between you both. He’s clearly upset but refuses to say anything. Adrian’s always been a bit cautious about inviting guests into the castle, for good reason- Dracula’s castle is known by many.

Laying back to back in the darkness of your shared bedroom is not how you wanted to spend the night. He never lays on his side, claiming it’s better for blood circulation to lay flat on your back- so you know for sure he’s angry. Plus the small dramatic sighs he keeps letting out.

“Are you gonna talk about it or keep sighing all night?” The silent treatment was not part of your self improvement journeys.

“There’s nothing to talk about. Good night.” It's curt and full of attitude.

Sitting up quickly, you look at him. He feels you shifting but makes no move to face you.

“Adrian.”

Nothing.

“Adrian, talk to me.”

Still nothing.

“Fine.”

The feeling of weight lifting off the bed has his attention, as he peeks over his shoulder to watch you grabbing your pillows.

“Where are you going?” He’s sitting up now, watching you clutch your pillow on a journey to the door.

“Sleeping in the guest room.”

He rolls his eyes.

“Don’t be absurd.”

“Adrian you’ve been an ass to me all day. You’re acting like you’re the one who got attacked!”

He looks at your wrapped forearm, sighing and laying back down.

“If you had listened to me in the first place, none of this would have happened.”

“Oh, so now you want to say shit.” Throwing the pillows at the foot of the bed, and crossing your arms. “As if you haven’t invited plenty of people over to the castle.”

“I have not.” The accusation has him sitting up on his elbows, furrowed brow.

“That couple from Lupu?”

“His wife was pregnant.”

“Those kids from Salo?”

“They were too young to be adventuring into the woods at night.”

“That cute guy from Hanna?”

“He was… very hungry.” Fumbling and struggling to keep eye contact.

“And cute.”

Adrian huffs in anger, the pout on his face would be upsetting if it weren’t so adorable.

“And now one bad apple comes through, after a couple dozen good ones.”

Crawling up the bed on all fours has him shifting up a bit. Almost like prey under a predator.

Finally stopping once you’re fully straddling his thighs, knees slightly bent making a perfect seat for your ass.

“You’re being a real arse to me, when I got a boo boo.” You hold up your arm like a wounded animal, giving a small pout.

He takes the bait and gently grasps your wrist, bringing the bandage to his lips. Ever so careful, his lips put barely any pressure on your wound.

“Perhaps…” Adrian pulls his lips away, “I have been a bit of a ‘jerk’.”

“Mmhmm.”

“How can I make it up to you?”

It’s a sweet request, pure even. He’s giving you a look filled with adoration and love. Mouth slightly agape revealing his pearly whites, two fangs one display. Cupping his cheek makes him gulp, the look in your eye making him equal parts nervous and excited.

“I can think of a few things.”

Leaning down, planting a kiss on his jawline, then along his neck, reaching his shoulder. No time to process what’s happening, you dig your teeth into the skin showing from his nightgown.

“Ah!” That cry wasn’t one of surprise, but pleasure.

“There, now we both have boo boos.” The joke doesn’t process with him, too busy panting - eyes not focused on anything.

“You okay?” His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you against him. Based on the hardness pressed against your panties, he’s more than okay.

“You liked that?” He only nods, words failing.

He’s too much, and not enough. The pink flush across his cheeks, twitching between his thighs, and soft pants- wetness already damping your underwear.

Hand creeps up his back, landing snuggly in his hair at the base of his head. One small tug and he folds, granting access to the expanse of his neck. Wasting no time, you sink your teeth into the unmarked skin. Not enough to bruise, but it leaves a ring of small crescents. But that's not enough, for either of you.

One bite turns into two, then three, soon his neck is almost as pink as his cheeks. The last bit is the hardest, even when he cries out in pleasure, you don't pull away. Instead giving a small suck to the abused skin.

“Oh- ahh…” He falls back, your weight on top of him. Back of his hand flies up to his mouth, trying to silence some of the cries leaving him.

“When we agreed to try new things, I never had this in mind.”

“Quiet.” He tries to be intimidating, but fails completely.

“Seems like you’re the one making all the noise.” All it takes is small thrusts against his dick to get him squirming again.

Reaching down to rub him through the nightgown, his cock leaving a small wet patch on the fabric.

“P-please…” he whimpers, and just the desperation alone has you throbbing. “Touch me.”

“I am, pretty boy.”

“Don’t be annoying.” he glares, at least tries to. The rubbing becomes full on jerking, making his leg kick a bit. Like he’s full of energy that needs to be released somehow.

Shifting off him, and laying beside him. Pulling the gown up to reveal his muscular thighs and dripping cock. Small veins travel up the shaft, leaking pink tip revealed, twitching and begging for stimulation.

“Wanna come?” These two words have him nodding eagerly, shame is the last thing on his mind right now.

Starting to jerk him off again, and his reaction is immediate. Nothing but a jumble of ‘yes’ and ‘more’.

But once your hand slows to a complete halt, his eyes snap open, irritated.

“I was close.”

“I know.”

Moving down the bed until your mouth is by his crotch, planting a kiss on his weeping tip.

“But I wanted you to finish in my mouth…” his dick twitches, but you still ask, “Is that alright?”

To which he nods so fast he might have pulled something.

Smirking as you bring your lips back to his cock, giving the shaft a few kitten licks, gouging his reaction.

“You wanna come for me, Adrian?” Sucking on his tip, saltiness filling your mouth.

“F-fuck! Yes!” His head tosses side to side, blonde hair splayed against the pillow. Such a lovely sight.

“Good boy.”

[onggi]

Shatterpoint

I don’t have a mother, but if I did, she would be a tear duct. I don’t talk about it — I know there’s something a little alien about me, but that’s not exactly why.

Question: How can something born of sadness ever be more than the sum of its parts?

Answer: It can’t. It will always be the product of sadness, born from a dragon’s tear shed over the destruction of war and conflict and the loss of new life. That will mark it forever, inescapably so.

At least, that’s what I believed, but if there was a way to get closure somehow, things would be different. They’d have to be.

I land on the crystallised dustbowl of a planet approximately two days before the spring cycle. Seasons are different on different worlds, but the leylines keep time. They always do. I don’t know why I was drawn to this place, but there’s something magical in the air.

The town is colloquially referred to as the Edge of Nowhere for its isolation. It had a real name, once; one that was probably given with love. Now, it’s the bottom of the barrel, chugging along on the coattails of a crystal mining industry that has slowed down considerably. It’s remote, sparsely populated with travellers who will pass through once and then forget they’ve ever been. I spread my fingers against the dusty ground, feeling the hum of something discordant buzz through my body. Some strange resonance, like an oddly melodic song, seeps right into my bones.

When I sleep, I don’t dream. I think dreaming is for the living, and I’m not quite living, but I’m not dead, either — that would imply I was alive at some point. I’m more automaton than flesh and blood. That’s why it’s so odd when that night, as I close my eyes for my deadsleep, I find myself walking towards the desert. I know, somehow, that there is a brutal tear in the ground itself. I also know that I need to go there. I don’t know what awaits me, out there in the endless liminal sandscape beyond the Edge.

I wake to darkness. I’ve been told that the local pub and lodge, the Watering Hole, is where most people convene at this time of day. Or night. When I press into the throng of people, the acrid smell of booze washing over me like a sordid wave, it’s with my wings boldly visible. I’m used to the looks, so maybe that’s why I don’t notice him. At least, not at first.

Fact: This isn’t my first time here. I’ve returned here time and time again since my inception, each time hoping to find something different. Things have always, unfailingly, been the same — until now. This time, I don’t just feel the earth. I feel someone else, too. I haven’t realised that yet.

“Do you know anyone with a half decent motorskip who could go out on the betweenland?” I ask the bartender. I’ve asked every time, but I’ve never felt the imperative need to be out there before.

Out on the betweenland is the Tear. Tear as in torn, not as in shed, although it makes sense in a way that they’re such similar words. The few people who do live here avoid it like the plague. Too dangerous, they say. Well, maybe it is, for a living being. If I get hurt, I can just stick myself back together.

“Told you last time you was ‘ere,” the bartender replies, “ain’t nobody gonna take you to the Tear.”

Double negatives. It should make a positive, but out on the Edge, it doesn’t.

I haven’t paid the hulking mass hunched over the bar beside me any notice until now, but at the mention of the Tear, it seems to rearrange itself in its layers of black and leather. One huge hand, circled around a glass of amber whiskey, clenches as if to make a fist.

“I’ll take you.”

He doesn’t have that Edge twang to his voice. An outsider, then. Like me. There’s not a single inch of his body that isn’t covered in swathes of fabric. His hands are gloved.

I smile. It’s not really a natural expression for me — none of these mortal displays of emotion are. I don’t really know how to feel emotions the way they do.

“Thank you.”

He tosses back the drink and huffs out something that could be a laugh, but that doesn’t feel quite right, because I haven’t done anything funny.

“Don’t thank me. You’re going to your death out there.”

He tells me his name. I tell him mine. By the time I convince him to go into the Tear with me, we’re almost close enough that I can read the sadness and worn tiredness in the fibres of his muscles.

I wonder if I look that sad. He’s got deep, soulful eyes, filled with a life of regret and another life of denial. I wonder if his third life will be different. Maybe this will bring him as much closure as it will bring me.

I don’t know why I think that, but it doesn’t feel wrong. There’s something about him that tells my magic we’re kindred. I can’t figure out how. He’s not a dragon, but there’s a little bit of draconic aura around him, broken and diminished as it is.

When he finally tells me why, it makes sense. I don’t know how to reassure him.

He pulls off the glove, revealing a crystal hand. I place my smaller palms over his, barely pressing.

“You’re like me.”

It’s the first time anyone has said that to him. It’s the first time I’ve said it to anyone, too.

I kiss him. He kisses back.

It’s an egg. The whole planet is an egg, partially destroyed during the Void Wars, and at its centre is a dead foetus, bleeding amniotic fluid that the miners have been harvesting in the form of powerful crystals for centuries. But it’s drying up now. It’s been drying up for a long time.

When he sees it, he goes white with shock. When I tell him I’m here to destroy it, he opposes it vehemently.

Why? I thought we had an understanding. I don’t get why he’s reacting like this. It’s so human.

He shatters me.

“I can’t do it,” he says to me when I reopen my eyes, shatterpoints shakily reattached with a large and clumsy hand. “I can’t do what they did to me.”

I tilt my head to the side. “You were alive. This one is not.”

He shakes his head, running his crystal hand through his shaggy hair, and sighs deeply. It’s the sigh of an old, old man.

“It’s desecration,” he says.

I’m confused. “What do you mean by that?”

He seems frustrated. “Messing with the dead. Messing with the dead of dragons.” He reaches out to touch me, then retreats as if burned. “It’s not something that’s done.”

He’s scared, I realise. This hulking warrior of ages past is scared of — what? What is he scared of? The egg? The remnants of a dead foetus, life that never was? Or me?

“I can’t leave things as they are,” I say instead of voicing any of these questions. It’s unlike me. If I have a question, I ask it. But right now, I know that if I were to ask any of those questions, he’d shatter as easily as I did beneath the weight of his chains. Maybe not on the outside, but internally.

He lets out that deep sigh again.

“I know.”

When we lay it to rest, he cries fat, bubbling tears. In another world, he would have been a fully fledged dragon. I could have been born from tears like those.

When we lay it to rest, I feel nothing at all. I thought it would be different.

I thought it would be the end.

“No, Angel,” he whispers into my hair that night, camped beside a fire. “It’s just the beginning.”

[bubblegum---bitch]

Never the same again. (Angst)

Valentino x Male Overlord reader: Headcanon

Requested by:@Brazilian-guy-in-the-wrong-place

Note: Sorry this took forever to finish, work has been kicking my butt. Hope I delivered.😅

- Yourself and Valentino were out in the town spending some quality time together doing a little shopping in one of the rich parts of hell. With both of you being overlords of your respective deadly sin, you hardly have time to just go out and have a day off from the pressures and responsibilities of aiding the ruling and maintenance of hell.

- The two of you have been dating for years and to the surprise of many, you had quite a healthy relationship with the overlord of lust. Despite him being an abusive, manipulative asshole to everyone else around him, he was a complete gentleman when it comes to you.

- He opens doors for you, pays for everything even when you insist on paying, he protects you with no hesitation despite you being more powerful than he is and when it gets cold outside he gives you his big fluffy pimp coat. You love wearing it because it always smells like him which always makes you happy knowing that he cares about you so much to only show his gentle side to you.

- Everything was going so well that day, you and Val just walked out of another store hands full of expensive stuff you bought for each other. You were trying to decide on where you wanted to head to next but it all went to hell when the emergency sirens went off all around you.

- The next purge wasn't due for another five months, it's never started off schedule before. Everyone around you burst into panic and started running to find safety. Valentino waisted no time to pick you up bridal style and started sprinting to the limo a few block away, he pushed anyone that was in his way and didn't care what he had to do as long as he got you away and somewhere safe.

- As you looked up into the crimson sky, you felt your blood run cold when a fleet of exterminators began to descend from the sky. Their sharp angelic spears glistened menacingly and their theater mask faces pierced through the darkness of hell as they got closer to the ground.

- You were suddenly thrown to the ground, your skin grazed across the rough ground, digging away the top layer revealing the white tissue beneath. You looked back and saw that Val got thrown to the ground by a crowd of people running in the opposite direction, all of them desperate to get away.

- Before you could get to him the exterminators had already landed. They were even more terrifying up close than they were when you'd watch them massacre unfortunate sinners from your window every year.

- They all dispersed into different directions to begin their slaughter. Unfortunately for you and Valentino four of them had stayed behind, and they all and their sights on you two.

- Val waisted no time wiping out his guns and began firing at them. He didn't have fancy powers or magical abilities like most overlords do, but one thing Val was good at was shooting a gun.

- "Y/n get the fuck out of here I'll take care of there fuckers!"

- "I'm not going anywhere!"

- As for you, you had very impressive powers that leaves most sinners quivering in fear of being on the receiving end of your wrath, but these were exterminators. They were vicious, unpredictable and you hardly doubted that you could successfully fight them off.

- It felt like hours you and Val have been fighting side by side. The exterminators barely had a few scratches on them but you guys were barely holding on. The streets were void of any signs of life, only dead bodies and destruction was left all around you.

- They had you backed up in a corner now, you definitely had some internal bleeding and Val has definitely seen better days, but he still stayed in front of you, doing his best to protect you.

- "Val, I've got an idea but you're not gonna like."

- "Whatever it is do it so we can get the fuck out of here. They don't get to fuck with our date and kill us in one day."

- Having made your choice, you did the only logical thing. You ran.

- The thing about the exterminators is that they love to kill overlords once the opportunity presented itself, especially powerful ones that were vital to hell.

- "Y/n! Don't!"

- As you expected three of the four exterminators followed behind you, the other stayed to finish off Val but you knew he could take it on. You'd rather die knowing that you did your best to ensure Val survived this.

- You on the other hand was still on the run. They were still hot on your tail, their malicious laughs echoed through the deserted streets. You tried your best to duck into dark alleyways just to loose them, but they were determined to kill you before the purge was over.

- In all your running, you miscalculated and made a wrong turn, you were met with a dead end and the only way out was through the three exterminators that were now blocking your path.

- "Alright you theater faced fucks, come and get me!!"

- A full three weeks had passed after the extermination and Valentino was still searching endlessly for you. He had managed to kill the exterminator that stayed behind to finish him off, he fought with all the strength he had but he made sure that it was dead before he ran in the direction you went in.

- He had searched endlessly for you, searched every alley and dumpster just to find some trace of you, but he found nothing.

- Valentino wasn't a man that cried or got worried over anyone or anything. But he loved you, and the thought of loosing you to exterminators when he had sworn to protect you no matter what ate at him with every moment that passed and you weren't found.

- He was using every resource to his disposal to find you and he was getting more and more violent to those around him. He always locks himself up in his office practically falling apart and missing you. He even cries into an a shirt you left in his office just so he we wouldn't forget what you smelt like.

- He had every sinner at his disposal looking for you in all the rings of hell, He spared no expense and didn't care who he had to go through to kind you. He knew you weren't dead, you couldn't be. You were one of the strongest overlords in hell and was not easily taken down, even by exterminators.

- As if someone had heard his prayers, one of his bodyguards burst into the room and announced that you were at the front door.

- Val waisted no time and sprinted behind his body guard and ran like a mad man down the countless flights of stairs. He was ready to pull you into his arms and kiss you until you were breathless. He'd make sure that he never let something like this happen again.

- When he arrived in the lobby he came to a complete halt just a few feet away from you. He was shocked to see the state you were in. You were dirty, blood caked to your hair and skin and you looked like you were on the brink of death.

- You were just sitting there on the sofa next to the door just staring at the red silk carpet as if you weren't sure of where you were.

- "Babe, where the hell have you been? I've been searching all the god forsaken rings for you. Do you have any idea what I've been through looking for your ass!?"

- The last thing he expected you to do was break down crying. He honestly didn't know what to do because of all the centuries you've been together he's never seen you cry. You've always been so strong and dangerous, you've never let anything gotten under your skin, not even a near death experience.

- But here you were, holding yourself as if you'd fall apart if you didn't. You began shaking and you would have fallen out of the sofa if Val didn't rush to your side and take you in his arms.

- He you feel the absolute terror in your body as you shook, you buried your face into his coat to stifle the screams that threatened to escape your throat.

- By now the lobby was nearly packed with demons that worked in the building. They all had looks of worry and confusion but all Val could see was people who didn't know how to mind their fucking business.

- So he picked you up bridal style and took you upstairs to his office. There you'd be safe and he could get to the bottom of why you were such a wreck.

- He had spent the entire day cleaning you up and trying to get you to at least eat something. You hardly spoke a word to him despite his efforts and you still had that distance look in your eyes. He took a seat next to you on the leather love chair in the corner of his office and could still see that your hands were shaking from the way the coffee in your cup shook.

- "Baby you've got to talk to me. You've been gone for two weeks and I'm gonna go crazy if you don't tell me what happened out there."

- He was really trying to be calm and understanding about your situation. Even he had trouble fighting off one exterminator, and you had to take on three and still be alive. But the protective boyfriend in him needed to know what happened so he could know how to help you, or at least know what happened.

- You took a while to talk to him, your usual cheery and confidence filled voice was broken and trembly with each word. You began from the beginning when you had lead the exterminators away. They had cornered you in the alley but you fought every single one of them until the purge was over, but they did quite a number on you and you blacked out from excessive blood loss.

- When you woke up you had no recollection of how you ended up in hell, it was a fuzzy haze that refused to clear up. You knew who you were in hell but the life you used to live when you were alive was something every sinner of hell held closest to them, no matter how bad or fucked up it was.

- You then went on to tell him that you were so weak the first couple of days that you were targeted by any sinner that got sight of you. Being an overlord of hell has it's advantages but when you're weak and vulnerable, you're bound to get jumped by sinners you've either wronged or those who want to take your place.

- They were ruthless and showed you no mercy. Hell was just a place, sinners and demons were the true reason hell was such a horrible place. And it traumatized you.

- Val really didn't know what to say. On one hand he wanted you to describe all the demons that dared to put their eyes on you, but on the other hand he considered that the last thing you needed was him running around town killing. You needed him here with you.

- So like any good boyfriend, he stayed with you and told you about your past life. He held you close to him and promised to become stronger to be able to protect you better. But if you could barely defend yourself against exterminators and the sinners of hell, how would he?

[the-children]

The Westmoore Tragedies | Chapter 2

[ TW: Gore below the ‘Keep Reading’ line. ]

“Our children aren’t safe!”

“Have they found who killed those poor people?”

“It’s gonna happen again!”

“We want answers!”

More voices soon joined in, eventually creating a dull roar of overlapping panic from a slowly growing crowd of villagers that had gathered before the town hall—it was a bi-weekly occurrence by now since the massacre was discovered. Rodarin shifted his posture against the stone wall of the storefront he leaned upon, watching and listening as they shouted their concerns and pointed fingers. He couldn’t blame them—hells, he sympathized with them. They were scared because no one had answers, and they were angry there was nothing they could do. A gentle sting of pain pulsed through his lower lip as he bit at it in frustration, quickly turning from the crowd as he made his way to the schoolhouse. He needed to pick up his son and daughter early so they could begin packing their clothes and toys. Sarina planned to leave with the twins, take them to stay with her sister in La Noscea while Rodarin stayed a few more nights to find out what he could.

Firm steps echoed along the tiled floors of the hallway, his stare held upon the dull reflections within the tile while he lost himself to his thoughts. Westmoore had always prided itself on its higher educational standards—it was the reason he and Sarina moved here once they learned she was pregnant. It wasn’t a massive, sprawling city like Limsa Lominsa—but it wasn’t some small, run-down village either. There were multiple classrooms, one for each grade. Luckily, his children were only a year apart—their classrooms were directly across from one another at the end of the hall to his left. As he rounded the corner however, a sudden chill licked at his spine, causing him to stop in his tracks. 

He had been so absorbed in his thoughts about the circumstances surrounding the disappearances, that he hadn’t been paying attention to his own. This wasn’t right.. something was very wrong about this. The hallways were unnaturally dark given the time of day—and even more alarming were the sudden lack of windows. His breaths became slightly unsteady as a sense of claustrophobia gripped at his lungs. It was far, far too quiet. There were no murmurs of lectures, nor childlike chatter and laughter. With this level of silence, he didn’t doubt he could even hear the soft scribbling of pencils from the classrooms on the second floor—but there was nothing. He took a few quick steps, which seemed to echo endlessly in this dreadful silence, to peer down the main hallway. The front doors were closed. They were open when he entered—they were always open to help keep the hallways cool during the hotter days. And that was another thing—the cold. The chilled air that sank deep into his flesh that was beginning to make his teeth chatter. This wasn’t right.

His heart began to drum within his chest, heated breath billowing from parted lips as he walked briskly towards the end of the left hallway—he needed to see his children. The doors to the classrooms nearly burst open behind the urgency of his entries, but both would be empty. His heart hammered loudly in his ears, hands lifting to run through and pull at his hair as his mind raced with horrible possibilities. Who took his children? What were they doing to them? And were they even still alive? Soft whimpers and murmured pleads began to dribble from his lips as tears gathered—but fighting through the sickening fear that knotted in his stomach, he sprinted for the other classrooms. With shoulder positioned forward, he burst through door after door—each more violent than the last as wood splintered and hinges cracked. He had eventually searched the entire first floor—even the main office and cafeteria. As he approached the staircase that led to the second floor, the shadows seemed to grow darker. His frenzied pace faltered, shaking fingers resting upon the rail as he peered up into the dark.

He proceeded with caution, climbing the staircase with slow, careful steps as he took this time to try his damnedest at calming himself. Rounding the bend that brought the staircase the rest of the way up, a deep crimson hue began to bleed and taint the shadows, corrupting it into a sickly crimson that tainted his vision—his careful stride pausing a moment to adjust his eyes. His heart skipped a beat as he heard the faint rustling of paper and muffled laughter of children, his pace quickening once more at the mere prospect of finding his son and daughter. Though once he reached the top of the steps, his excitement was quickly crushed by the smeared blood that streaked along the hallway. The first classroom’s door on the right was wide open, blood pooling into the hallway from within. He could make out the smeared drag marks that lead from this open classroom to the one at the end of the hall, with its door closed. Various small shoe prints were left behind in the blood’s trail, all following towards the same closed room. He inched his way down the hall, shaky breaths filling the air between the pauses of muffled laughter and movement that came from the closed classroom. On his way, he carefully inched closer to the open door where the blood trail originated.

His pulse hammered away in his ears as he mustered the nerve to peek into the doorway. The chairs and desks were scattered in disarray while mutilated bodies of adults—teachers and staff—littered the room like trash in pools of blood. Their flesh had been ripped and shredded to literal ribbons, and their faces seemed to have been hollowed out—no eyes, no teeth. “Valrin?.. Mia?..” Rodarin hissed in a pleading whisper, his ears straining as he silently prayed for an answer—only for it to go unheard. Jaw clenched tightly, he stepped back into the hallway and continued to follow the trail towards the closed door at the end of the hall.

His hand hovered over the doorknob as he listened to the commotion within. Occasional laughter, gentle snips of scissors, rustling of paper—if not for the insane circumstances, one would simply assume it was time for crafts. Slowly, steadily, the door opened as Rodarin watched in horror. Various children were scattered among the room, sitting beside the fresh corpses of their teachers—some were still twitching, kept alive to suffer longer. Soft grunts of effort escaped one child as he clipped away at the flesh of a dead woman’s arm. Others were cutting various shapes and patterns into limbs and torsos. Ribbons of skin were used as bindings and plasters for other small crafts. Eyes were scooped from their sockets with tiny fingers as the onlookers cried “Ewwwwww~!” in playful disgust, tossed from one to the other in a sick game of catch. They were playing.. Their faces were lit up in delight, not a care in the world as they played in the blood and gore of their victims. In the obscene horror of it all, Rodarin almost didn’t notice the dark, shadow-covered children standing off to the side, watching the others play with wide eyes and plastered smiles of pure white.

“Mr. Calrise.” He jumped at the formal call of his name, turning quickly to glance down the hall—which was empty. When he looked back, the shadowed children were before him, clawing at his legs as they tried to climb up. He could feel their tiny fingernails digging into his flesh. “Mr. Calrise?” He heard the call again, but was overcome by the weight of the climbing shadows—falling to the ground as his head cracked upon the tile during its whip back. “Rodarin!” A smack stung at his cheek, his eyes bolting open while he gasped and wheezed in panic. Melrin’s hands pressed to his chest, keeping him steady as he studied Rodarin with a worried, concerned expression. Young teens peered past Melrin from the classroom doorway, staring in curiosity and slight fear. “Rodarin, you alright?” Melrin mumbled as he helped him to his feet. “I.. uh..” He was at a loss for words, completely stunned as he looked around. Everything was normal, aside from having woken up on the ground. Melrin gave him a light pat on the back. “You just came to my classroom, stared for a while, then fell over. You feelin’ okay?.. You’re bleedin’” Melrin commented as he gestured towards the bloodstained leggings of Rodarin’s pants.

With tentative fingers he peeled back the cloth, revealing the various tiny scratches that had sunk deep into his flesh. A nauseating panic still gripped at his heart, but for whatever reason, he was back. And he needed to see his children. He needed to leave. “I’m fine. Got scratched up by a damn jackal earlier, must’ve had some disease—feeling all out of place.” He said, fabricating his story quickly as he gave a quick apology and walked briskly towards the staircase with a slight limp. He was on the second floor, and the injuries were still there. It was real, it had to have been. So then why was everything fine now? Back on the first floor, normality had been restored—no busted doors, and only more questions plaguing his mind. He made for the end of the side hall again, finding his children alive and well—and giving them each a long embrace, embarrassing them in front of their classmates. If only they knew why..

He spent the rest of his day with his children, pushing what had happened to the corners of his mind. His children were safe, and he was thankful. That night, he helped them pack their bags, making sure they had enough room for all their favorite toys to keep them entertained while they were away. A restless night awaited him, peeking in to check on them while they slept every ten or twenty minutes as he tried to figure out what the hells had happened. Sleep wouldn’t come until the next morning, Sarina and the kids giving their farewell hugs and kisses as they made off for La Noscea. Rodarin collapsed on the couch, his eyes no longer able to stay open. It was short lived, possibly only three or four hours passing before frantic knocking came to his front door. It took him a moment to heave himself up from the soft embrace of the cushions, the front door creaking open to reveal a captain of the Fleet. “Rodarin, come by the schoolhouse. We found the staff dead.. It’s happened again..”

    to ̗̱b̙̤̟e͍͙̦̬̘͞ ̧̠c̣̪̖̙̣̭̮͟o̳̝͝n̥t̪̳i͙̕n̩͡u͓̝e̜̤̘̙̫̩͕d͔̬̩̠̟͙̭͘                .

[lettrespromises]

> LettresPromises informs you : You have one notification.

> Letter object : the heart’s warmth and the body’s flames.

> Todoroki Shouto and Bakugou Katsuki sent you a letter, would you like to read it?

@bruised-cherry​ sent a letter : ❝Hiya, Nikki! Can I request a one-shot(if you're down) where Todoroki and Bakugou's(poly relationship) s/o got into a little argument with each other and now their s/o is rejecting them and ignoring them. Since it's summer, TodoBaku turned off the air conditioning, AC, etc, knowing their s/o would need them soon. And just, kinky, dirty ass s m U t :) (and lana spelled backwards if you're down with that, if not that's cool). Sorry I'm a kinky hoe 👉😅👈❞

Author’s letter :

❝ dear bruised-cherry,

first and foremost, i would like to apologize for taking so long to write your promised letter! nonetheless, i had a lot of fun writing it, hopefully it will reach your expectations!! it’s 4:05am as i am writing this and my brain is unable to write proper words i’m sorry—

sealed with a kiss,

nikki.❞

Genre : Pure smut, angst if you squint.

Warnings : Cursing, sex, vaginal sex, blow-job, cunnilingus, anal sex, daddy kink. (Please consider that the characters are aged up.)

Word count : 5.8K.

This day seemed to counterbalance the already established rules of time and space, you were secretly convinced that minutes were hours and each time you would lay your eyes upon any item with the sole purpose of indicating the current hour, you felt as if time had stopped. It was a long, long day. Truthfully, you wished you could have had the opportunity to meet someone whose quirk was time control to ask them to skip the remaining hours of the day.

The root of the problem was deeply imbedded with the increasing attacks committed by the villains in town, you were on a mission with both Bakugou and Todoroki- a clear lack of communication and coordination signed a burning defeat for the three of you. A mission built and perfected during several months had just blown into pieces, your efforts, tears, blood and energy were the combustibles to the pain fueled by this defeat. Each one of you attempted to exude this loss in your own way while making your way back home. Todoroki, sat on the passenger seat, found the cure to his own inner built-up anger by digging his pearly whites into the flesh of his thumb while observing the passing scenery before his eyes. Bakugou, unexpectedly, made a martyr of the steering wheel by squeezing the non-existent life out of it, causing his fingers to turn white in the process. You, on the other one hand, kept on reminiscing the earlier events of today, your mind roaming over and over again to find what went wrong, you weren’t exactly angry : disappointed in yourself was a more precise way to describe the matter.

The silence was deafening, almost agonizing. Truthfully, silence was even more intimidating than noise- a noisy ride would have included the repertoire of Bakugou’s insults flowing freely from his mouth, it was expected. But silence, on Bakugou’s end, echoed to a level of anger rarely ever reached, metaphorically speaking, Katsuki was a living and breathing ticking bomb at this very moment.

The sound of the car door smashing broke the silence as you arrived home, Bakugou was already inside, his hands shoved in his pockets as expected. You freed a sigh you ignored you were holding from your lips, an early sign that you knew there was little to no seconds left on the ticking bomb. Todoroki sent an apologetic glance in your way, you knew he didn’t mean no harm, if anything, it was a silent sign to encourage you before facing the aftermath caused by the explosion of the bomb.

Flower vases left shattered on the floor, a door handle scarred by the scorching hot imprints of Bakugou’s unforgiving hold and a continuous flow of insults as background noise- those were the said aftermath of the explosion. Bakugou’s body language radiated off pure anger, like you or Todoroki had barely seen before, his rage was exuding from the pores of his palms through a dangerous marriage of small explosions and smoke. He was roaming back and forth in the living room, his stare was focused on the explosions emanating from his hands as a way to convince himself that the more explosions would be set free, the less he would feel angry.

« Fuck, fuck, fuck… Goddamnit, fuck! What the fuck went wrong, hah?! We planned this shit entirely, from start to fucking finish. What the fuck went wrong?! You tell me instead of staring at me, do fucking something for once! » The words echoed and morphed into a roar sent directly your way, anger lacing his every word.

« Bakugou, don’t say things you don’t mean. » Todoroki stated, the pseudo comfort embedded in his voice radically clashed with the heat of Bakugou’s words.

« Don’t say shit I don’t mean? Who the fuck are you to tell others what to do when you couldn’t even do shit when we were facing those bastards?! You didn’t do shit, you fucking left us on our own and arrived at the very last second. So tell me, give me one good fucking reason as to why I should take shit from you! Fucking say it to my face, because I’m dying to know what’s your excuse. » The sounds of Bakugou’s explosions slowly adopted the structure of a crescendo, but Todoroki remained unfazed, his facial expression didn’t betray his pseudo serenity. « I was evacuating the civilians, you knew that, I don’t understand why you act so confused. We prepared this plan together, the three of us, you knew what my role was. »

You were stuck in the middle of a battlefield, torn between two sides but the tragic twist of this scene was that you couldn’t find the strength to defend one of them. You needed to remain objective and impartial, something obviously easier said than done. Your eyes darted from one figure to another each time you heard the sound of either Todoroki or Bakugou’s words, truthfully, you felt paralyzed under the lack of options in this crucial situation- on one hand, Katsuki was nothing short of acerbic when anger consumed him, on the other one hand, Shouto’s calm attitude hid a dangerous amount of anger building inside of him ready to explode if Bakugou’s venom stung too hard to Todoroki’s liking.

« Oh yeah, yeah. You were on you own, hah? Evacuating civilians and shit, am I supposed to feel fucking sorry for you when Y/N were busting our fucking asses out there to take down those bastards? You’re trying to play it solo like your old man? You know what, the more I think about it, the more you start to act like him-… »

« Katsuki! That’s enough, shut up! »

It was your turn to let anger lace your words in such a way that they developed their own toxins, purposefully made to sting Bakugou hard enough to cut his rambling. Endeavor was a touchy topic to Shouto, and as soon as Katsuki pronounced the words ‘old man’, a hint of flames appeared on Todoroki’s collarbone- it was only a matter of second before an inferno invaded the living room.

« You never know when to stop, do you? Do you have any idea of how ridiculous this is? You, Bakugou, you should know out of all people that his father his a sensitive topic, and yet you let your anger get the best of you every damn time. Todoroki, were you really ready to blast your flames at him? Aren’t the both of your grown men, or am I mistaken? How disappointing, how fucking disappointing. » You dropped every last ounce of energy in your tirade, every last bit of emotion in the process too. You felt so numb, deprived from your own vigor.

Both Todoroki and Bakugou’s eyes fell on you as soon as your roaring words broke their mutual verbal assaults, their mouths were set agape- they did have words on the tip of their tongue, but they couldn’t find the strength to give life to them. There it was again, the deafening and agonizing silence.

You couldn’t bare standing in the same vicinity as them, disappointment clouded your vision and the more you looked at them, the more your vision became foggy- but it still remained unclear as to whether it was due to the disappointment or the tears gathering at the corner of your eyes. Without wasting yet another second, you went upstairs and locked yourself in your room, giving yourself some privacy to wipe away your tears.

Downstairs, the silence was still suffocating both Bakugou and Todoroki, their stare were still laying upon the spot where you used to be just a few seconds earlier, they just hadn’t processed your sudden disappearance. They blinked once, then twice, and a third time to make sure they weren’t dreaming and once they were convinced it was very much real, they looked at each other and sighed as if they were, too, deprived of their own energy.

« Bak-… Katsuki, it was my mistake to threaten you with my flames, I apologize. » Todoroki’s tone was soft in comparison to his last statement, a sense of compassion replaced the anger laced in his words.

« I shouldn’t have talked about your shitty dad. » A sentence, which, in Bakugou’s vocabulary echoed to an apology, but with the cruel exception of the forbidden word which begins with an ’s’ and ends with ‘-orry’.

« I assume Y/N is not going to talk to us for a while, and, don’t take it personally but her presence is very much needed. » Bakugou frowned as Todoroki’s words connected to his eardrums, needless to say, he knew he was right but didn’t care enough to admit it and grant him this silent victory.

« I might have an idea, half-and-half, use your shitty quirk to lower the temperature of the house, you know how much she fucking hates cold temperatures. That’s gonna make her move her ass out of the bedroom. » Todoroki only quirked his eyebrows in response while Bakugou was adorning his most victorious grin, he knew this plan meant an automatic win- both of them could handle cold temperatures thanks to their quirks, you on the other one hand, were more fond of warmer temperatures.

Todoroki sighed, perhaps already regretting his choice to follow Bakugou’s antics, but if it meant that he had to play dirty to get you, he was ready to deem himself as the dirtier player in the game. Soon enough, a frigid fog invaded mercilessly the first floor, and your bedroom was the first victim of the unforgiving coldness. Little did you know, this was the beginning of a series of crushing defeats on your end : seeking warmth underneath your blankets? Didn’t work. Blow air on your hands? A total fail. Looking through your boyfriends’ closets to find one of their thick hoodies and wear it? Not the solution you needed to cure the problem.

You were running out of solutions, and that’s when your unconsciousness crept in and murmured suave temptations to your ear : the welcoming warmth of Bakugou and Todoroki’s bodies, their arms wrapped around you like a human cocoon to protect you from the cold temperature. It sounded like a dream, and you had the means to make it real- but at what cost? You roamed around the room, not only to create body warmth by moving, but also to accelerate the train of your thoughts. What was more important? Freezing yourself to death with your pride as an inexistent shield from the cold, or embrace the agonizingly tempting warmth radiating from both of your boyfriends?

The answer to your rhetorical question manifested itself rather quickly- in the blink of an eye, you had already wrapped your hand around the doorknob and raced downstairs towards the personifications of your very own personal heaters under Shouto’s puzzled expression and, in contrast, Katsuki’s triumphing grin.

« Hah? Have you finally decided to show up, princess? » Anyone could have noticed the more-than-obvious obnoxious tone dripping from Bakugou’s words, he glanced over at Todoroki who grinned at him in response, silently thanking him.

« Just keep me warm. » You found a perfect spot right between Katsuki and Shouto on the couch, your knees were brought to your chest, your arms were encompassing your legs- if anything, you were pretty close to looking like a sphere, but you were ready to contort yourself in any position to gather some precious warmth. Eventually, you let out a silent sigh as soon as you felt their respective warmth hit the surface of your skin as a sign of satisfaction.

« I think you forgot the magic word, love. » Shouto teased, his warm index gracing the cold flesh on your shoulder, such a tease.

« Ugh, fine! Keep me warm, please. » You emphasized the pleading word, just enough to make them grin even wider in victory.

« ‘Wasn’t so hard, was it, princess? » You couldn’t exactly tell if you hated or were absolutely enamored with the teasing tone of his voice, but once thing was certain- the grin plastered upon his face was a thing of beauty.

Bakugou, as expected of him, took the lead, or rather, sent a silent challenge in Todoroki’s way which dared him to take the upper hand of the situation. He wrapped his arms around your waist in a lion-like manner, ready to protect what’s his, with the help of his strength you were now sitting on his lap. The grip around your frame didn’t move one bit, not only did he want to provide you as much warmth as his quirk allowed, but he also wanted to maintain control. Your head was laying upon the surface of his shoulder, your face was facing Todoroki who admired you as if he had witnessed the renaissance of Venus under your traits.

« I will help you feel a bit more warm, alright, love? » You hummed in response to Todoroki’s one-sided interrogation.

Another source of warmth was more than welcome. Thus, Shouto wasted no time and placed his hand upon the surface of your cheek, daring to cross Bakugou’s self-claimed territory in the process without any ounce of shame. The amount of space between the two of you had dangerously reduced until totally disappearing which cleared Todoroki’s path on his way to show you just how much he could warm you up. His lids fluttered shut in anticipation, and there it was, the oh so fabulous source of warmth- he planted his lips on yours in perfect harmony. After all, a promise was a promise, correct? Regardless of how it’s executed, correct? That was exactly Shouto’s mindset as his tongue grazed your bottom lip to beg for access to the inside of your mouth, a wish quickly granted which allowed him to spread the warmth of his tongue inside your mouth as his pink muscle met yours which only announced the beginning of the dance of pleasure. Your actions corresponded to his, and his initiatives echoed to yours— soon enough, your tongues were melting in each other’s touch. As much as he wanted to keep this going forever, the way you grabbed his wrist was an indicator that you were starting to lack oxygen. Of course he ended the kiss, but not before he dug his teeth into your lower lip to which you responded with a semi silent whimper.

Bakugou observed the scene from the side with the same smirk gracing his facial features, he would be the worst liar on Earth if he were to say that seeing your mouths collide in harmony wasn’t the epitome of poetry in motion. But who was he to let Shouto get the best of you? Who was he to let Shouto make you whimper first? He craved, no, he needed to make you melt under his touch.

« Want us to make you feel hot, princess? Be careful what you wish for. » This sentence was his final warning before flipping you over on your back, offering him the best position to physically tale the upper hand under Shouto’s amused stare. You looked so pure and yet so sinful at once, a paradox which drove of them crazy as they imagined the most unholy deeds they were going to do to you. Katsuki’s index hooked the fabric of your hoodie (more like his, but it’s just a slight detail which turnt him on even more) before to pull it over your head.

Oh, and what a gorgeous sight to behold— your naked upper body, in all its glory, a body worthy of the most descriptive pages of a novel. He couldn’t help but snicker at the ethereal scenery before his eyes, he knew he was going to devour you and make you his, no matter what.

« Don’t give me those eyes, woman, I fucking told you I was gonna make you feel real hot. You won’t need this shitty hoodie to keep you warm. »

The assault was given once his pearly whites dug into the soft flesh of your neck, reflex kicked, you titled your head to the side to give him more room to play with. It was a succession of biting, licking, biting again until your skin adopted a purplish tone which echoed to a mark of both domination and belonging. Of course, you belonged to him… And Todoroki. Once he was satisfied with his artwork, he licked the abused flesh one last time before smirking to himself as a sign of victory.

You couldn’t expect Todoroki to be left out of the party, after all, you did belong to him too. He pushed Bakugou to the side just enough to bask in the glory of your half-naked form. The gleam in his eyes reflected nothing but pure adoration, he was torn between the will to worship each inch of your body and the tempting option to make your legs weak until you can’t form proper words anymore. Oh, well, both were bound to happen.

« Oi! If you wanna touch her, don’t fucking push me! » Bakugou’s rambling was cut short as soon as Todoroki’s lips crashed on his, the blonde eye’s widened in surprise but he eventually allowed himself to crave to the passion.

« I don’t need your permission to touch what’s mine. » Todoroki whispered against the flesh of your breasts, emphasizing the very last word strategically.

The sight of your hardened nipples caused him to lick his bottom lip in anticipation, just a way to warm up his lips before devouring your flesh. Todoroki wasted no time and took this opportunity to let his tongue grace your left bud, the motions were repetitive and hypnotizing— from circular motions right around your nipple, from vertical licks to sucking motions, each deed was designed for your own pleasure while your whimpers falling free from your lips and the hand stuck at the root of his hair encouraged his actions. Your whimpers were cut short once Bakugou’s lips found yours and dragged you in a tongue-led kiss, and to no one’s surprise, you followed his already established rhythm, but goodness, it was deliciously intoxicating, letting you crave for more. And somehow, the sound of your hushed whimpers created an even more attractive melody.

Now, it was Todoroki’s turn to take advantage of the vacant place left by Bakugou who was now bent on your side which meant that your whole body to discover for the umpteenth time. A trail of kisses left from the valley of your breasts to your lower belly indicated which dangerous way Shouto was bound to take. He took a glance at the liplock share with Katsuki who offered you no rest no matter if you craved for oxygen or not, the same amused grin still plastered upon his facial features, and augmented the temperature just a bit more.

His finger drew an invisible line along the edge of your underwear, a pre-meditated deed which only announced in advance what he was bound to do, he was just one step closer to make your legs crumble under his touch. In a swift motion, fueled by his own personal hunger to satisfy his fantasies, Todoroki got rid of your pants and he could already discern the wet patch adorning the cotton surface of your underwear, what a sight to see. A new trail of kiss was left upon your skin by Shouto, this time, he focused on the inside of your thighs and followed a vertical pattern until reaching the climax of his journey : your already dripping heat.

« Are you already this wet for us, love? How kind of you. » The amused tone which embedded his voice hid a hidden sinful tone, such a contrast, but only Bakugou and you could catch the double-tone.

Bakugou, on the other one hand, mimicked Todoroki’s earlier antics (only to outdo him, his own ego was his sole motivation) and made a victim of your breasts. One lovebite on your neck wasn’t enough, he craved to make you his even more, on every inch of your body. This thought was the reason behind his will to bite the generous flesh of your left breast, which clearly isn’t abused enough to his liking. And so it began once more— biting, licking, biting once more just hard enough to make you whimper in response, suck on your flesh until it becomes purple and has his name written all over it. From the love bite, Katsuki kissed his way until your nipple, the motions of his mouth were strategically chosen to make pure sounds of pleasure fall free from mouth mouth, while his thumb and index were twisting your nipple while following the circular motions of his tongue. The harsh grasp you held onto his blonde hair was only one of the first hints that you were on your way to reach a state of pure bliss, the moans echoing in his head were his favorite hint though.

The sensation of a sharp lick across the fabric of your underwear awakened a new whimper on your end, this time, it was higher which only echoed to a higher level of pleasure. Todoroki’s lips curved into a grin at the sound of it, what a marvel to hear. The fabric which separated your core from Shouto’s lips was seen as a taunt to the latter, but fret not, said taunt was quickly taken care of as soon as he got rid of your underwear, throwing them who-knows-where in the room.

And so the temperature augmented yet again— an experimental lick caused you to bite your lower lip to refrain any moan to escape from your mouth as you closed your eyes in anticipation for pure bliss. Your reaction was the best indicator to Shouto who had found yet another motivation to make you come undone— getting to hear your agonizingly breathtaking whimpers and moans fall in cascade from your lips. Your core was wet, much to Todoroki’s delight, and he could almost hear you calling his name, begging him to eat you as if you were his last dinner on Earth.

His mouth married the shape of your core, his tongue danced beautifully against your folds as if your core had been specifically created to welcome the wonders of his mouth. The licks left by his pink muscle were executed differently in several ways— vertical licks, circular shapes, he based his actions on the sound of your shameless moans and whimpers to predict his next move.

« Shouto, S-Shouto! » Your first begging, which didn’t go unnoticed to both of the protagonists of your very own pleasure.

« So eager, aren’t you, love? » He kissed these words into your skin, words embedded with adoration and love in the process.

Well, there was someone whose name hadn’t been begged, and truth be told, it was getting on his nerves. How dare Shouto have the honor of being begged and not him? Oh, well, he was about to change that right away.

« Open wide, princess, I’ll give you something to fucking beg about. » The same usual smirk accompanied his words, he already knew what was bound to happen, and the knew what effect it would leave on you.

By the time you were busy with Shouto, Bakugou had already taken care of his own clothing by… taking everything off. Isn’t it easier that way? His genetically given large hand stroked tentatively his length, just enough to cause a layer of pre-cum to cover his tip, once he was satisfied with the result, he wasted no time to shove his entire member in your mouth in a swift motion. The warmth of your lips was the most delicate welcome he could’ve asked for, regardless if you were to choke or not, he’d find a way to make you beg his name until it becomes the only thing you’re able to say. Your throat grazed the sensitive tip of his grit, earning you a hushed grunt as a reaction which was a rarity coming from Bakugou. Both of his hands held a harsh grip on your hair, and he used said grip as a level of pressure to thrust himself into your mouth under the mesmerizing sounds of your choked whimpers. It was a scenery of beauty, he was the sole holder of all your attention— you were looking at him through your lashes with pleading eyes, silently begging him to keep going until you were to choke on his member. A silent sign he didn’t miss, he knew you like the back of his hand, after all.

Eventually, Shouto complied to your begs, you wanted more? Oh, you were bound to get more, more precisely, you were bound to have exactly what you deserved. Todoroki and tease were very close to being synonymous, hence why he purposefully used the pad of his thumb to create circulate motions on your sweet bundle of nerves which was the key to make you come undone, and, of course, two of his fingers which had already found a shelter inside your folds while pumping in and out, over and over again, until bringing you to the brim of ecstasy.

Under this new pressure, the need to express your pleasure through moans was almost impossible given the fact that each sound coming out of your mouth was rendered hushed by Bakugou’s length. Your wrapped your hand around his phallus to not only catch some cruelly needed oxygen but also set free all the sounds of pleasure trapped inside you, as soon as your mouth was set free, a pure sound of bliss fell free from your lips. A sound so sinful and addicting at once that both Bakugou and Todoroki couldn’t help but repeat said sound in their head over and over again.

« Oi, princess, I didn’t fucking tell you to stop so keep sucking until I say otherwise, did you fucking get that? » It was a one-sided question, your answer wouldn’t matter anyway.

And there he went again, shoving his member inside your mouth as Bakugou began chasing his own pleasure— if he was careful enough, he could picture the shape of heaven when his lids fluttered shut. This time, his thrusts were harsher, clearly designed to attain his climax. But he wasn’t the only one who was close to reach the seventh sky— the addition of Shouto’s fingers pumping in and out, the oh so right pressure on your sweet of nerves and the precise licks left on your wet folds was nothing short of divine, that divine that it was going to make you reach your orgasm sooner than you thought.

Reflex kicked, your grip on Shouto’s hair became gradually tighter as you felt the knot in your stomach grow more and more until it became out of your control, you rolled your eyes back in ecstasy and the pearls of tears on the corner of your eyes were now rolling down the surface of your cheeks. Through choked sounds, you encouraged Shouto to keep going and going until you could touch heaven by the tip of your fingers. And then heaven came to you, the liberating sensation of floating on a cloud overwhelmed you as you reached your orgasm, manifesting the pure sounds of bliss through the hushed sounds caused by Bakugou’s intrusive length.

« You’re such a good girl, love, you came undone for us. Such a good girl… » The end of his sentence was whispered in marvel against your core, it was a sight he could never get bored of.

His tongue found once more its way to your folds, licking each and every drop of your juices to satisfy his own pleasure. Your taste was his favorite, it was addicting as hell, so addicting that before to swallow said juices, he would always make a mental note of how your cum feels on his tastebuds.

« Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, god-fucking-damnit! » Bakugou’s grunts followed the structure of a crescendo, he threw his head back in pure pleasure— he was so close, so fucking close, he wanted to reach the seventh sky as well.

Todoroki grabbed him by the nape of his neck, his fingers digging right in Katsuki’s flesh, and planted his lips still coated with your juices right upon his. Bakugou could taste your sweet nectar on Shouto’s lips, and perhaps it was the last thing necessary for him to come undone— your taste always had the ability to bring him over the edge, and once more, this time was no exception. Bakugou groaned against Shouto’s lips before breaking the contact between them to share a pure sound of ecstasy of his own and eventually, come undone right in your mouth. A string of the blonde’s cum dripped down from the corner of your mouth, and observing you use your tongue to collect the remaining cum on your chin made Bakugou if he wasn’t going to come undone twice in a row at the sight of this.

« Come on, love, we’re not done yet. » This was the final chapter of all of Shouto’s fantasies, a chapter which was finally bound to take form.

Todoroki snaked his arms around your form to place you right on his lap, once the position was comfortable for the both of you, he placed his length right against your twitching core which was already begging for him to fill you.

« Please, j-just fuck me already… Please… » Another auditive wonder— the sound of you begging was worthy of the most beautiful symphony.

« You asked so nicely, love, who am I to refuse? » A rhetorical question, as expected of Shouto when he led the teasing game.

Shouto filled you instantly, shoving his entire length inside you which caused the unexpected appearance of a moan which you could hardly suppress even by biting your lower lip. An initiative quickly ended by Bakugou’s intervention who tilted your head just enough so he could plant a rough kiss upon your lips in order to prevent you from hushing those sounds of pleasure any longer.

« Don’t be fucking shy, let us hear what you gotta’ say, baby girl. » You looked at Katsuki with pleading eyes, you knew that you were not going to be able to suppress or refrain any of your moans or whimpers, you knew you were bound to become a vocal mess.

Shouto’s hands held a strong grip on your waist, so strong that the tip of his fingers turnt white under the pressure. His rhythm was frantic from the beginning, using the combination of his hips bucking upwards and his arms wrapped around your middle to clash against his testicles. You had the best spot to hear up close and personal the ravishing sounds of bliss coming out of Shouto’s mouth like a broken record. Your arms were wrapped around his neck as a desperate cry for support as his hips were pounding deep inside you until reaching your cervix.

Behind you, Bakugou had already made sure to wet his fingers to prep you. Prep you for what exactly? Oh, well, we all know Bakugou doesn’t handle well being left alone, especially when Todoroki has the advantage of him. The tip of his fingers brushed against your rectum until two of them entered your second hole, he expected this reaction but your moans were ethereal, especially when he was the cause of them. His fingers pumped into your rectum just enough for you to get used to the stretch and to the knew (and double) sensation.

« Be a good fucking girl for daddy and let him fuck you from behind, yeah? » He studied your facial expression and the irregular pattern of your breaths to know whether or not you were fond of his new antics, to which you confirmed his doubts by whispering an almost inaudible « Y-Yes, daddy… »

Nonetheless, the elongated moan you let out in his favor once his fingers reached a bit deeper in your rectum was enough for him to get the clue and replace the feeling of his index and middle finger with the width of his length. A pure sound of pleasure with his name written all over it, if you were to ask Bakugou, he would tell you right away that this is what heaven felt like.

« I-I’m going to cum, I can’t-… » Shouto’s hot breath crashed against your equally as hot skin, it became impossible for him to suppress his grunts any longer.

Bakugou mirrored his pace which had suddenly quickened under the pressure erupting in his lower belly, he could already touch the clouds of the seventh sky, and you were the key to unlocking the divine skies of heaven.

« Fuck… Fuck, I’m close too. » Their grunts matched in unison under the melody of your repetitive moans caused by the double pressure.

With one last thrust from both protagonist, you felt two rushes of hot liquids invade your insides as a moan signed their orgasm. That was it, they came undone and touched heaven as they came inside of you, all the pent up pressure in their abdomen had been set free for your greatest pleasure. You rolled your head back on Katsuki’s shoulder, oxygen had become a rarity under the frantic thrusts of the two newfound victims of passion. Once your lungs felt full again, you released an elongated sigh which drained all of your strength in the process.

Bakugou pulled out first, causing you to whimper at the sudden sensation of vacuity replacing the ever so addictive sensation of being filled by the man who held the keys to your heart. As he pulled out, his arms snaked around your middle and he dragged you with him, hot breaths crashing against your blazing skin. Katsuki put your head over his chest while you mustered up the last bits of vigor you could invoke to find shelter in his comforting embrace.

As soon as Shouto evened his breathing pattern, he felt the urge to join you and Katsuki— laying by your side, his arms draped over your waist, he felt at peace with the two most important people in his life, the true definition of perfection to him. Silence came back again, but this time it was comforting, a silence which held all the fierceness of your feelings for one another. A few kisses were planted here and there on your skin as a silent way to show gratitude, but all three of you were absolutely drained because of passion.

« If you’re still feeling cold, I know a fucking way or two to fix this shitty problem, princess. »

[high-supernatural]

Growing Close

Kai Parker x Female Reader/Character

Word Count: 1994 (ironic, lol)

Warnings: typical tvd themes, S.Assault mentions/details, trauma themes, surgery, blood (it’s a little gruesome but I cope through writing, so just be warned it can be triggering)

Summary: Kai and V grew pretty close over the weeks. Something happens to V and he is forced to handle it like a human. 

***since y’all like the one shots better than the series, I’m gonna write one shots for female readers under the name V for what I would’ve/will write in the series***

It has been a few weeks since Kai and V kissed. They grew closer in their own way. Neither of them wanted to admit their feelings for each other, they honestly didn’t know how to identify or describe those feelings anyways. All they both knew is that they wanted to be near each other always.

They started doing more things together. Instead of telling the other where they’d be in case something happened, they’d go together. They’d eat, drink, and just hang out together almost all the time. They still liked pushing each other’s boundaries, but now they were more comfortable doing it more intensely.

V liked to watch Kai get flustered when she’d walk out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel and change in front of him, claiming it was what they did in her world so he shouldn’t worry about it. Kai liked to push boundaries with physical touch. He’d always be touching her in some way – surprise hugs from behind, “accidental” grazes and bumps, losing all concept of personal space.

Neither of them minded, but neither of them wanted to make an actual move on each other either.

Those few weeks were the best weeks either of them has had in a long time. There were no real expectations, no fights being had, nobody’s life to save… just vibes.

V left in the middle of the night one night and left Kai a note saying her friend called and that she’d be back in a few hours. When Kai woke up in the morning and saw the note but didn’t see her, he worried.

Kai called her friend and was told V never showed up, so he began searching town for any leads, coming up empty on each one before deciding to call it a night and try again early the next morning.

He didn’t know what to feel. He started off worried that something had happened, but as more and more leads turned out to be dead ends, he thought she might have left for good, and his emotions became unsettling.

He was proved wrong though. As he was dozing off he heard somebody fumbling with the door of the motel room and got up to investigate before V came through it, half asleep and looking like hell. She opened the door and took two grumbled steps inside before her knees buckled and Kai caught her by placing an arm around her waist, kneeling down with her and pushing the door closed.

He got down on one knee to lay her head on and tried to wake her up, but she wouldn’t. She was breathing, and her heart was beating, it just seemed as though she was in a deep sleep Kai couldn’t understand.

A thousand possibilities raced through his mind. He saw her messy hair and bruises on her skin, but it still didn’t explain why she was asleep. He thought maybe something magic happened at first, so he tried to reverse it with no avail.

That’s when he carried her into the bathroom fireman style, thinking that putting her in the shower and turning the water on would wake her up like it does in the movies.

When they got into the bathroom, he got a glimpse of the back of her legs where her skirt wasn’t covering, and it all made more sense. He saw bruises in the shapes of bites and handprints, and realized that she wasn’t being attacked with magic, she was being attacked by regular people and rufies, and he became more frantic to get her conscious.

He didn’t know what to do. He had never experienced anything like this. He stuck to his shower theory and got in with her with all of their clothes on, pleading with her to wake up and tell him what happened, saying that he’s sorry and he should have been with her to prevent anything from happening.

His theory proved him wrong, she didn’t wake up in the 30 minutes he had sat there with her waiting, so he decided she should sleep it off. He took just her shirt and skirt off and wrapped her in a robe so she wouldn’t sleep in totally wet clothes. For what felt like days, he laid next to her waiting for her to wake up.

This had been the only time Kai could actually get inside of her mind; she was in a fragile state. He could see inside her mind and saw exactly what had happened. Instead of letting her remember everything, he modified her memories to make her believe she had gone for a walk, got into a fight, and came back with the bruises she had. He figured she would like that memory better than the reality and would deal with loopholes as they came, but hoped they never did.

He had expected her to wake up the next morning, but she didn’t, she was still just sleeping. He had woken by cold air as V had rolled all of the covers onto her. Kai leaned over to try to wake her, thinking she had woken and got cold, but when he leaned over, he felt her shivering and burning up. He remembered what she did when he had a fever and wet a washcloth with cold water to put over her forehead and continued watching over her, waiting for her to wake up.

He felt an unfamiliar feeling through all of this – he felt worried and didn’t know what to do about it, but also knew that V wouldn’t want anybody to know about it, so he took to google and was only met with a world of information that was useless to him in this moment. All throughout the day she was shivering and coughing in her sleep, and he couldn’t do anything to help.

To pass his time while she slept he decided to open her journal again to read the letters she had wrote to the Kai she knew in her world because the sudden silence from her began eating at him. He began to search for them, getting lost in each page she had wrote on in the process. More new emotions washed over him but he couldn’t tear his eyes off the pages. There had been so much she never told him about, so many boundaries he pushed that could’ve been triggers for her that she let him push. He felt a little guilty at this fact, even more so when he found the letters he was looking for. 

He read so much expression of pain and loss she felt towards the Kai she knew in her world, and so much joy and borderline possessiveness in the letter he found that she had addressed to him that she never delivered. He felt a new type of way towards her that he couldn’t describe, but he knew he had to do whatever he could to keep her near him.

She woke up late that night as Kai was dozing off and stumbled into the bathroom disoriented. He woke up to groggily ask if she was okay, but she didn’t answer.

He sat up and listened as the shower turned on and she got inside. He heard her coughing a lot more and just closed his eyes to listen, knowing there wasn’t anything he could do. It wasn’t until he heard silence that he wished she was coughing again.

Kai walked into the bathroom and asked V if she was okay before opening the shower when she didn’t respond. He saw blood on her lips and realized she had been coughing blood, then he saw a growing bruise on her lower stomach and panic came across him when she really wouldn’t wake up this time.

His magic still wasn’t helping. For once in his life, he couldn’t do anything but be a human and rush her to the hospital.

The hospital staff bombarded Kai with questions and wouldn’t let him near V by Jo’s orders. Feelings of helplessness grew extreme as he sat in the waiting room for hours with no updates.

Eventually, Jo approached Kai as he stood up to hear her immediate accusations.

“What did you do to that girl,” Jo said with an angry attitude.

“I didn’t do anything I—” Jo cut him off, “I have a hard time believing you. We just had to remove her ovary in the worst case of trauma and internal bleeding I have seen in my career thanks to whatever you did,” she finished angrier than before.

Kai had a look of sadness and remorse wash over him, “she’s my best friend, Jo, you have to believe me… I didn’t do anything,” Kai almost pleaded with her, “we’ve been staying together for months, since before the merge, she left one night and came back the next, she wouldn’t wake up, I didn’t know what to do—”

Jo cut him off again, “yeah, well, you also murdered your family, I wouldn’t put it past you to do something this horrific.”

“If I was the one who did this, why would I bring her here,” Kai asked, “if anybody knows my tact it’s you, I wouldn’t have brought her here if I did.”

Jo processed what he had said for a moment. “Either you suddenly gained a conscious or you’ve gone crazy then. Cops will be here to take her statement soon, I suggest you stay out of their way,” she snapped and walked away.

Kai figured out what room she was in by looking into every room until he found her sitting up in her hospital bed with her legs hanging over.

He walked in and locked the door behind him, “what are you doing, you need to be resting,” he said, placing his hand on her shoulder trying to get her to lay back down.

“If I’m gonna die it’s not gonna be in a hospital with zero interior design aesthetic,” she said swaying slightly from the morphine, “just do me a favor and grab my clothes so we can get out of here before people start asking questions I don’t know the answer to.”

Kai grabbed her bag out of the small cabinet in her room and handed her clothes. She slid her way off the bed and avoided standing on the leg on the side she had surgery on, grabbing onto the bed so she wouldn’t fall as Kai watched, unsure of what to do now knowing that she’s always set in her ways and won’t argue them. He figured it was easier to help so she wouldn’t hurt herself than it would be to try and stop her.

She grabbed her shirt and dropped it when trying to unfold it. Kai grabbed it before she could process that it slipped from her hands – morphine is one hell of a drug.

“Here, lemme help you,” he said rolling her shirt to put it on her.

“I got it,” she tried arguing and grabbing her shirt from him before he slid it over her head faster than she could reach for it.

She struggled to find the arm holes but found them soon enough before throwing herself on the bed to put her sweatpants on the fastest she could in her morphine state.

V let out a dramatic breath and went to grab her backpack, but Kai got to it first and snatched it before she could, “I got it,” he mumbled.

She looked at him as if she was processing what he said, “I’m gonna find a wheelchair,” he spoke against the silence.

“I’m not about to roll out of here riding bitch in a wheelchair… we gonna stroll like mob bosses,” she chuckled and took a few steps before Kai rushed beside her and put her arm around his neck, compromising a wheelchair for someone to hold onto just in case.

Kai drove back to the motel where she promptly made a bee line to the bed and fell back asleep for another half a day. Kai threw her bag down before walking over to cover her up and sit beside her to read more google searches on his phone.

When she woke up the next afternoon she was starving and ate while trying to get the story from Kai. His first loophole, questioning.

“You uh… you left in the middle of the night to go to Audrey’s and left me a note. On the way there a group of people tried to jump you, you got stabbed and came back here,” Kai explained with extreme nervousness.

She just nodded and said, “okay, and then? I don’t remember almost four whole days there has to be more.”

“I don’t know. You had a concussion, wouldn’t wake up, and were bleeding really bad, magic wasn’t helping so I took you to the hospital,” he lied again, “you don’t remember because they had you on a lot of morphine.”

“Hm, weird,” was all V said, “wanna watch a movie?”

Kai was more than relieved that she didn’t ask more questions.

[slasherbastard]

May I ask for 31, 41, and 52 from the prompts for either Vincent or Brahms, whoever you want to choose. I hope you're doing well:))

(gif credit: stabhappyslashers)

Warning: Self Harm, Angst, Swearing,  Word count: 2120 Notes: Trigger warning,, this work is mostly about self harm so if you’re uncomfortable please don’t read it. Also “Y/N” is gender neutral in this

A string of curses fell from Vincent’s mouth as the shower water hit his thighs, stinging as the water fell in a light shade of an orangey-red. He tried to ignore the pain as he grabbed some shampoo and massaged it through his hair, trying to promise himself that this would be the last time - but that’s what he’d said last time. Vincent doesn’t fully know what caused his relapse but here he was assuming it was stress. The stress of expanding the wax museum to the whole town, although it’s a team effort it was still hard when he was the one making sure the figures looked human enough. It was also hard when Bo criticised everything Vince did, especially when he was still learning.

“What the hell is that? They’re supposed to look real, not like whatever that is. Do it again.”

There were times when Vincent wished he could talk back to his brother but even if he could he knew Bo wouldn’t have it and the scars would be worse. Vincent bit his cheek and groaned in pain as a sharp sting came from his leg again, moving himself so that only his head was hitting the water, a few drops trickling down his body and narrowly avoiding the scars. He had his eye tightly shut so he could also avoid seeing the scars that littered his upper thighs, they repulsed him but it was too late and they didn’t look like scratches that would fade in a few weeks or a few days if he was lucky.

Half an hour later he was out of the shower and trying to avoid staring at his legs as he slipped on a pair of sweatpants. Looking up and catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror made him freeze for a few seconds, he stared at the chunks of hair sticking to the scarred side of his face and pushed it behind his ear. He felt nothing but pure disgust as he stared into that foggy mirror at himself, how could someone ever love someone as disgusting as me? It scared him to think like that but he couldn't help it. He really couldn't see what you saw in him, he's a cold hearted killer and you're possibly the nicest person he's ever met - although the bar is pretty low, Vincent's definition of a nice person is someone who doesn't treat him the way his brother treats him, like shit. The only person’s company that Vincent enjoyed was yours. Ever since his parent's passing and being stuck in a town where the only person who could tolerate him was his abusive twin brother, Vincent felt so alone - that was until he met you. He really couldn't believe that someone like you existed, but what would you think if you found out about his secret?

A sudden knock on the bathroom door interrupted Vincent’s thoughts. He stepped out and grabbed a towel and quickly wrapped it around his waist as he waited for his brother to bang on the door and yell at him for not answering straight away but instead, he heard your voice. “Vincent?”

He opened the bathroom door and smiled as your face came into view. “Hey Vince, are you coming to bed soon?"

"S-Soon." He managed to get out, Y/N smiled at Vincent and leaned in, kissing him through the space in the door before leaving him to finish getting ready for bed. Vincent closed the door and his smile faded out. He took one last look in the mirror before and left, catching up to you as you finished descending the stairs.

---

You fell beside Vincent and he melted into your chest as you stroked his hair, he pulled the blankets over the two of you and snuggled up closer to you. "Hey Vincent?" Vincent looked up at you and made a 'mhmm' noise. "I don't want to seem like I'm rushing things but are we ever going to- you know, do it?"

Vincent widened his eyes and you quickly began apologising until he held up a hand and let out a mumbled laugh. "Okay. It's okay." He paused and tried to collect his words but he struggled. He didn't want to say yes because he knew you'd be disgusted by him and his scars, but if he said no then you'd be hurt and possibly leave him. Either way, one of you was gonna hurt. Vincent let go of you. "Tired."

"Oh. Uh, goodnight." You fisted the blanket and pulled it close for warmth before almost instantly falling asleep while Vincent laid there, questioning the choice he made and the things you said. Did you really want to have sex with him? No, that can't be. Vincent watched you sleep beside him as he moved a hand down to his leg and pressed down on his left upper thigh through his sweatpants and winced, quickly glancing up at you to make sure you were still asleep. He removed his hand and continued to watch you as his eyes began to drop and he fell asleep beside you.

The next morning Vincent woke up alone. He pulled himself out of bed and slipped on one a sweater that was lying on the floor and headed upstairs to the kitchen where you were making breakfast. "Vince! I'm making bacon and eggs, come on!" Vincent joined you in the kitchen and got out enough plates and utensils for three and set everything up on counter. "Oh, Bo isn't here. He's out looking for trouble." You let out a laugh and brought the pan over to the counter and dropped the food onto two of the plates before putting the pan in the sink and dousing it in water.

The two of you ate mostly in silence except for the occasional crunch from the bacon. "About last night-" You both looked up at as the front door opened and Bo walked in. "Hey Bo, I didn't realise you'd be back this early. Do you want me to make you some breakfast?"

"Nope, I'm just here to grab some supplies n' then I'm gone again."

You waited until Bo had disappeared upstairs before turning back to Vincent. "I-I can wait if you're not ready, it really doesn't bother me." Vincent just nodded in response and continued eating, thinking about the interaction between you and Bo. He just knew that you liked Bo more than him, it was so fucking obvious. Vincent finished his breakfast before you and dumped his plate and utensils in the sink just as Bo was coming downstairs holding a duffle bag. Vincent stepped out in front of Bo and stared at him. "What'cha want, freak?" Bo chuckled to himself and stepped to the side but Vincent followed him.

"D-D-D-"

"D-D-D- What? What the fuck do you want?" Bo started growing more aggressive, that's when Vincent shoved him into the ground and pounced on him, repeatedly punching and kneeing him. Bo threw him off and quickly stood up, Vincent following his actions. Bo reached up to his face and touched his cheek, he wiped the blood that coated his fingertips on his coveralls and picked the bag up again and slung it over his shoulder. "I'll be back late, don't wait up for me, asshole." He muttered the last part under his breath just loud enough for Vincent to hear, as soon as Bo left you turned to Vincent with a disappointed and shocked expression on your face.  

"What the hell, Vince? He didn't do anything." Vincent ignored you and ran upstairs, hoping you wouldn't follow him as he locked himself in the bathroom and grabbed the second best thing to a knife, his razor. He knew it couldn't do as much damage as the knife but a razor sure still hurt like a bitch. He did what he felt like he had to do, small trickles of blood forming over the cuts from last night. He wished he stop, he wanted to, but he couldn't. All he did was disappoint everyone around him, this was for the best. Vincent slid down and sat on the cool tiles and watched the blood pool and drip off his leg onto the floor, he knew what nobody liked him but this wasn't one of those situations where he could run away to a new town and restart his life. Vincent was cursed with the face he has and no mask could ever make him feel human or deserving of anything. "Vincent?"

History repeated itself. A knock on the door interrupted Vincent. "Vince it's me, open the door." Bo's voice was quiet, it was a side of him that Vincent thought died with his innocence. "Please. I want to talk. I promise I ain't gonna hurt 'ya."

Vincent watched the door as he backed up into the furthest wall which wasn't that far since the bathroom was pretty small. "N-No!" Vincent reached for the towel above him and tried to cover up his legs but it was too late. Bo had broken down the door and the sight made him freeze and even worse, you were standing behind him with wide glassy eyes. Vincent tried to open his mouth but he couldn't, he tried to speak but he couldn't. Bo took a step back and tried to process what was happening before him, he was fine with blood but seeing Vincent partially covered in it made him feel weird. You pushed past him and ran to Vincent's side, Vincent looked like he was going to faint either from shock or blood loss. "Vince? Vince? Hey, stay with me."

"Please."

"What is it? Anything-"

"Please don't l-look at me." Vincent's eyes closed, you looked back at Bo and started ordering him to get Vincent into the basement while you looked for whatever could help Vincent, since Ambrose doesn't have a hospital - and even if it did, it would still be completely useless. You tried not to cry as you gathered your equipment, painkillers, bandages, medical tape, towels, alcohol, all that good stuff. How did you not see this? How did Vincent get away with this? How long has he been doing this? You threw everything onto the table and watched as Bo placed Vincent on the bed, you quickly wiped away your tears and started tending to the wounds while Bo watched.

After playing medic for a good 15 minutes the surgery was a success - it wasn't too bad, Vincent thankfully didn't need stitches - you threw the bloody towels aside and threw the blanket over Vincent and turned to Bo. "Did you know about this?"

Bo was silent. You rolled your eyes and turned back to Vincent and stroked his forehead, moving the hair out of his face. "He used to, but I didn't realise he started again or that it was this bad."

You bit your lip and got up from the bed, rubbing your head and looking at Bo. "How long has he been doing this?"

"Since mom died, I think."

"I'll talk to him when he wakes up." Bo nodded and left you alone to wait for Vincent to wake up. You didn't have to wait long, he ended up shooting up and scaring the crap out of you about an hour or so later. "Why are you doing this to yourself?"

Vincent looked at you confused. "What?"

"The- where did all these scars come from?"

Vincent's expression faded and he looked down. "I don't-" Vincent grew quiet for a few seconds. "I don't want to be like this."

"Be like what, Vince?"

"Me." It was just one word but it caused you so much pain. You loved Vincent more than anything in this world and the thought of losing him hurt - you never had to think about losing him, just the realisation threw you back. "I am disgusting." He mumbled.

"Vincent. No. You're not disgusting." You felt useless just saying that but you were lost. "Vincent. I can't lose you. I know that I can't say anything that'll make you stop and this won't stop overnight, is there anything I can do right now?" you swore Vincent could hear your heart through your chest as it felt like it was going to burst out like it does in Looney Tunes, Vincent took your hand and looked at you.

"I w-will try." You smiled and he pulled you in, careful not to touch his legs.

"I'm here for you, Vince. I swear I'm never going to leave you - especially for Bo." you jokingly made a disgusted face at the mention of Bo causing the two of you to quietly laugh. "You're way too important."

[kim-poce]

Testing the Blade

Poor whumpee...

CW: medieval whump, legal slavery, cutting, blood, mention of vomit, mention of branding, starvation., hurt/no comfort

=-=

Anya had just come back home after buying the food for the week, some cow’s meat actually, she already has a small vegetable garden in the backyard anyway, food never was a problem, she was one of the richest in that town, of course, there were only commoners in that small town.

When Anya came back from what was more like a walk than groceries she went straight to work, she had inherited the smithy from her father who died some years before from a cold.

She loved all the processes of making blades. The design, will it be a small knife? a dagger? a longsword? Will it be ornamented? Then choosing the materials, heating the metal over and over again, and beating it to the perfect shape. She was in her favorite part, testing.

Anya looked at the trembling figure curled up in the corner, the first thing she brought after her father’s death, he was always against slavery, so weak-minded, Anya always thought so.

“Come,” she ordered looking at her last piece of work, a silver dagger ornamented with a rose pattern, a nobleman had requested it for his fiancee, and he said to be sure that the blade was sharp.

The slave whimpered softly only to be backhanded, “Noisy,” Anya complained. “Hand.”

The man raised his arm, the right one, the left was already full of deep cuts from the dozen of swords some mercenary had ordered last week, Anya placed his arm over a table and tied it up with the same old ropes she always uses.

He raised his head slightly to see the kind of blade, he almost whimpered again, a dagger, Anya’s favorite, she would check the dagger edge as a whole, and so she did, starting at the nearest of the handle and then going slowly to the tip, so slowly, Anya says that she know the blade is ready by the way it feels against his flesh.

She could test it on some meat, they both know that, but they both know she wouldn’t find that fun enough.

After getting to the tip she twisted the knife at started to the other side of it, deepening more the cut, red blood drip from over the table to the floor, and he knew that the first thing he would have to do when she unties the ropes is to clean that up.

“Perfect”, Anya said pulling the blade out of his arm, “I’m gonna have something to eat, and you stay there”, she said, gesturing to the table he is tied to, “I have a lot of swords to test today”

He tried not to cry loudly as tears started to roll down from his eyes and the blood from his arm.

He started to feel dizzy, the constant loss of blood plus his empty stomach made it so hard to stays focused, the smell of food filling the place didn’t help either, if Anya hadn’t strictly forbad vomiting, if the punishment for it wasn’t so so harsh, he would’ve vomited already.

He went more silent when she came back to work, if it was even possible to be quieter than his usual self, he was especially silent when she had the reddish hot metal on her hands, one time was enough, he doesn’t want to be punished by that ever again, he has branding on all his limbs and torso from that single punishment.

After hours tied up to that table the test began again, fist with his right arm, then his legs when there was no more space, at that moment he selfishly wished she had more slaves, so he wouldn’t be hurt alone, so he could share the pain.

It was selfish, he knew, but the pain was just too much, enough so he couldn’t hold his whimpers, and his whimpers turned in grans and turned in a loud cry that shook his whole body, just so Anya can complain that he is “moving too much” and restart the test once again.

Anya didn't even give him the mercy to untie him before going to sleep, letting him tied to the table over a puddle of his own blood, his whole body hurt so much and it took him a long time to sleep, no, rather than sleep, it took him a long time to finally pass out, with a small part of him hoping he didn't wake up.

=-=

[reinerispretty]

beneath the moon. (sokka x f!reader) pt6

hello and thank u for reading this story!! i hoped u enjoyed last chapter and this one!!

pt1

pt5

pt7

Her father sat in his chair, her mother standing beside him. Both gave her a pleasant but sad smile. (Y/N) took her place on the other side of her father’s chair, trying hard not to think about how there was someone missing from their little family. Her father gave a wave to the servants to open the doors and (Y/N) inhaled a deep breath and put a soft smile on her face.

It immediately fell as Hahn strut into the room, his chin held high as he approached the Chief.

No one had seen (Y/N) in days. After Yue’s sacrifice, her father found her, and escorted her back up to the palace. With heavy hearts, Aang, Katara, and Sokka watched as she stared blankly ahead, looking at things but not quite seeing them. 

The gossip started from the servants within her palace. They told the people of the town that the youngest princess had locked herself in her elder sister’s room and refused to come out. They had tried to coax her out with food, and even paints, but to no avail. Many knocked on the door but received no answer. 

The only time anyone caught a glimpse of (Y/N) was the night of Yue’s funeral. She stood by her parents, dressed in robes of the darkest shade of blue, and watched as the elders of her tribe strapped her sister’s body to a raft and pushed it off to sea. Sokka had watched her that night, wondering if he should go say anything. By the time he mustered up the courage to walk over to her, she was gone, retreating inside the walls of the palace. 

(Y/N) spent most of her time curled in the blankets of Yue’s bed, her body in a tight ball. She covered herself fully, inhaling and exhaling the deep scent that was so purely her sister, it made her eyes water. At night, she dreamt of Yue’s bright blue eyes and smile as bright as a moonbeam. (Y/N) couldn’t bring herself to look out the window yet. She worried that if she did, she’d see Yue’s face shining down on her. 

She knew that eventually, she would be forced to return to the monotony of her everyday life. But she couldn’t. Not yet. It broke her heart to wake up each morning and remember that her sister was gone. (Y/N) had grown up learning about the evils of the Fire Nation, but now she had a hatred in her heart that was so searingly strong, it hurt. If it weren’t for the Fire Nation, her sister would still be alive. 

Aang, Katara, and Sokka tried to visit her every day, multiple times a day. She wanted to see them too, but she was scared that if she saw them she’d be brought back to the day she lost the most important person to her. She feared that she would break down all over again and she absolutely loathed crying in front of people. 

It had been a few days since Yue’s passing when (Y/N) finally decided to pick up the tray of food the servants had left for her outside of Yue’s door. She didn’t know it, but voices rejoiced all around the castle when they learned that the princess had finally eaten. A few days later, she had agreed to be bathed by her servants. They were much more gentler with her than they had ever been before, and while (Y/N) hated being pitied, she didn’t mind them actually being kind to her.  A few days after that, she was informed by her father that she had a visitor. She finally felt well enough to accept company and hoped desperately that it was either Aang or Katara. She didn’t blame Sokka for her sister’s death by any means, but goodness, it hurt to even think about looking at him. He cared about Yue too, she could tell, and she wasn’t quite sure if she’d be able to hold herself together around him. 

She still dressed in her darkest blues to show she was still in mourning, but she actually brushed and braided her hair before she leaving. As she left Yue’s room, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Her eyes were rimmed red and puffy from the nights she spent crying. Her cheeks were inflated from her tears and her lips were chewed raw from when she lie awake thinking about all the possible scenarios of how she could have saved her sister. (Y/N) blinked at herself to remind her that she was real and then walked to the main hall of the palace. 

Her father sat in his chair, her mother standing beside him. Both gave her a pleasant but sad smile. (Y/N) took her place on the other side of her father’s chair, trying hard not to think about how there was someone missing from their little family. Her father gave a wave to the servants to open the doors and (Y/N) inhaled a deep breath and put a soft smile on her face. 

It immediately fell as Hahn strut into the room, his chin held high as he approached the Chief. (Y/N) looked at her father, who just shrugged as if to say, “I don’t know, either.” 

“Chief,” Hahn said with a bow. “I wanted to personally give you and your family my condolences for the loss of Yue.” 

(Y/N)’s fingers twitched at the mention of her name. It infuriated her that it was coming from his mouth. 

“Thank you, Hahn,” Her father said. “We appreciate it.” 

“I also know that because of how close Yue and I were, she’d want me to do everything in my power to take care of your family. That’s why I’ve come today.” He bent down on one knee and reached into his pocket, pulling out a thin piece of dark blue silk with a light blue charm attached to it. “I’d like to ask for your youngest daughter’s hand in marriage.” 

(Y/N) could barely comprehend what she was hearing. Her ears rang as the anger inside of her boiled over. Her fists clenched and unclenched as she turned to stare at her father. He, too, remained shocked by the words that had just come from Hahn’s mouth.

Then, (Y/N) turned to Hahn. 

“I will never marry you,” she said, her voice so low and icy cold that it sent a chill through the room. The water in the pots surrounding the walls sloshed back and forth. Hahn rolled his eyes. 

“Come on, (Y/N). Yue would want you to do what’s good for the tribe.” 

“Don’t come here pretending like you care about our tribe. You don’t care about anyone but yourself. And do not act like you could even possibly comprehend what Yue would or wouldn’t have wanted. You didn’t know her!” The pots were rattling against the floor now. 

“Don’t you think you should, like, calm down? You’re kind of making a scene.” 

“You think this is a scene?” (Y/N) inhaled a deep breath. “I’ll give you a scene.” 

As she raised her arms above her head, the water from inside each of the pots shooting upwards in large, swirling columns. She maneuvered her arms so that the water splashed down on Hahn. Then, once he was soaking wet, she lifted it all back up around him and held him in a swirling ball of water. She froze Hahn inside of it, leaving his face free so he could breathe. 

(Y/N) walked right up to him as he panted to catch his breath. He glared at her, his eyes hooded from exhaustion. “You...you’re dishonoring her memory.” 

(Y/N) reared her hand back and punched him square in the nose. Hahn shouted in pain as his blood dripped to the floor. She heard her mother and father gasp from behind her, but she didn’t care. She ran out of the palace as fast as her legs could carry her. 

It was the first time she had step foot outside of the palace in days and the brightness of the sun blinded her. She blinked furiously to help her eyes adjust but she didn’t stop. Her steps led her into the city and in her disorientation she crashed directly into someone, sending them both to the ground. 

“Ow!” Shouted the voice. “...(Y/N)?” 

She rubbed at her eyes and blinked away the dark spots to look at the person she had collided with. Sokka sat just a few feet away from her, looking just as confused as she felt. (Y/N’s) eyes shot wide open with surprise as she scrambled to her feet. She grabbed him by the hand to pull him up. “Sokka! Thank goodness! I need your help!” She started running and Sokka struggled to keep up with her. 

“Woah! What’s going on?” He demanded as (Y/N) took him down alleys and rounded corners.

“I need to hide!” (Y/N) hissed at him as she led him around the back of a coat shop, up its stairs and onto the roof. It had high walls which she forced Sokka to sit against. They both leaned against the cool ice, trying to catch their breath. 

“Is there a reason why you dragged me halfway across the city?” (Y/N) nodded. 

“Hahn came to the palace and proposed to me.” She flopped on the ground and stared up at the blue sky. Sokka blinked at her. 

“He did what?” She nodded. 

“And then I kind of waterbended him and froze him in a block of ice.” 

“Is that blood on your glove?” 

“Then I punched him in the nose.” Sokka laughed in disbelief. 

“You disappear for days and the next thing I know you’re wreaking havoc across the town.” (Y/N) rolled over on her stomach and shook her head. 

“Not the town, just Hahn.” She sat up and grabbed Sokka by the hands. It was definitely hard staring at him, but the adrenaline that still coursed through her veins helped suppress the feelings of sadness that were creeping in from the back of her mind. “I need you to do something for me.” 

“Anything,” He said, a bit too quickly. (Y/N’s) eyebrow quirked up but she decided to let it slide. 

“I need you to take me with you when you guys leave the North Pole.” Sokka let out a large sigh. 

“(Y/N), I don’t know...” 

“Please, Sokka! Hahn’s the first suitor I’ve had but he won’t be the last. And I know for a fact my parents aren’t gonna let...” She paused to swallow down her tears. “What happened affect my life forever. I’m going to be married off to some random guy that I’ll hate.” 

“You can’t hate everyone here.” She looked directly in his eyes and Sokka thought about how different her and Yue’s stares were. Yue’s eyes were soft, like falling snow, while (Y/N’s) were piercing like the ice that surrounded their city. 

“There’s no one here for me anymore. If I stay, I’ll be forced to lead a life I have never wanted to live.” She looked down at her hands. “She could do it, but I can’t.” 

Sokka peered down at the city that continued moving without them. “Okay,” He said as he turned back to her. “I’ll talk with Aang and Katara tonight. I��ll let you know by morning.” 

And maybe it was because she had been so emotional recently, or maybe it was the overwhelming urge to find someone that actually understood her, but (Y/N) wrapped her arms around Sokka very tightly. He was surprised, but he hugged her back eventually. 

(Y/N) returned home late that night. She tried to make it so everyone would be asleep by the time she entered the palace, but when she opened the double doors to walk through the main hall, she saw her father sitting in his chair. Her entire body tightened up as she walked toward him. 

“You’ve been out all day,” Her father said. (Y/N) held her hands together. 

“I was scared to come home,” She said honestly. The Chief leaned back in his seat. 

“I hadn’t realized you had been practicing your waterbending.” (Y/N) avoided his gaze. As defiant as she could be with her father, there were moments like these when she felt the weight of disappointment looming on her shoulders. “You’re quite good.” 

(Y/N’s) head snapped back to look at him. “Th-thank you.” 

“But you shouldn’t use your talents against our own people.” (Y/N) furrowed her brows angrily and huffed through her nose. 

“I don’t consider Hahn to be my people. You know he only proposed to me because he wants to be chief.” Her father sighed. 

“There are many things that I have wanted to change during my time as chief,” He said. “But it is hard when there are so many set in their ways. Eventually, as you age, you start to see the old ways as the only ways.” 

(Y/N) swallowed. “They don’t have to be.” Her father smiled. 

“You and Yue are like the tides. You pushed, while she pulled. I knew you would fight tooth and nail before you let Hahn take the title of chief from your sister.” 

“I don’t understand.” Her father sighed. 

“I’ve known since you were born how unhappy you were here. You are the ocean. You can’t be controlled.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You are what this tribe will need once I am gone.” 

(Y/N) felt her eyes watering. She had always felt that she had never belonged in her own tribe. Everyone was so willing to go along with what was happening. She had been labelled a problem child for challenging the rules, whether that be in her lessons or in her home. To hear that her father had noticed this and recognized them as her strengths made her want to cry. 

“But what if the tribe isn’t what I need?” She asked quietly. Her father stood and walked to her, taking her into his arms. She wrapped his arms around his middle. 

“Only you know what is best for you, my dear.” He kissed the top of her forehead. “Come, the moon is high. We must go to bed.” 

As she walked back to spend another night in Yue’s room, she avoided staring at the moon once more. 

---

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[rick-potion-no9]

“I broke your nose in a mosh pit”

Flesh Curtains Rick X Reader (1880 words)

It was in between sets so, in the little space you had around you, you were on your phone, scrolling through twitter to see if any of your mutuals were here as well. You had always sort of preferred going to shows alone, not having to worry about losing your friends in the crowd and being able to make as much of a fool of yourself singing and dancing to the music as you wanted. 

“Excuse me, s-s-sorry, sorry ex-excuse me my friend’s just uhhh little bit further up,” you heard a man speak over the music the venue was playing as everyone waited, leaving a trail of sighs and light complaints behind him. He made his way up next to you and you moved to get out of his way, which was a few inches tops given everyone’s proximity to one another, but the people in front of you weren’t budging. Understandably so, as you were pretty close to the barrier and probably wouldn’t give up the space in front of you for someone as tall as he was either. He quit trying after a few more “ex-excuse me”s and settled into the space beside you.

You glanced up and gave him a hey, just to be polite. “Hi. Rick Sanchez,” he greeted you with a nod. You recognized him as the bassist of one of the openers, Flesh Curtains. The name had made you laugh when they were on stage. He towered above you, long blue hair slicked back with a black choker around his neck and wearing the lowest cut tank top and tightest jeans you had seen tonight. He smelled like vodka, not that you minded, half the people here did. Hell, you probably did, too. 

“Y/N. Your set was really good! Got everyone moving around,” you looked back up. There was a certain darkness to his eyes that caught you off guard, but you shook it off. He mumbled a thank you and offered a smile. He was probably tired or drunk, or both, but you appreciated that he wanted to be in the crowd for the next set anyway. 

The lights darkened and the crowd surged forward, any free space you had gone, forcing the two of you shoulder to shoulder. You let out a yelp and a giggle as the screams of everyone around you filled the air. Upon realizing you were elbowing Rick in the stomach, you apologized and he rested his arm on your shoulder, giving the both of you a little more wiggle room. If this had been anywhere else you probably would’ve told him off for it, but you were never a stickler for personal space at shows, the random contact with strangers making you feel all the more present and you appreciated the momentary, random bonding experience of it.

It was the last song, and Rick had proven himself to be a good concert neighbor, his height helping to shield you from crowd surfers and he always gave you room to get in and out pits as they opened, but surprisingly never participating.

You lost him a few songs ago, but as a pit opened in the back and two walls started forming, you spotted him a few people down and across from you. You caught his eye and gave him a smile just as the music dropped and you ran with everyone else. After bouncing around the mosh pit for a while you saw Rick again. Feeling playful and bold enough, you went up to shove into him from behind. 

Bad choice. He swung his arm back as soon as you got close, elbow crashing directly into your nose. “FUCK!” Blood was pouring down your face and you stood still in shock for a few seconds. As soon as he noticed the blood on his arm, Rick turned around, “F-FUCK!” 

He ushered you into his small ship parked behind the venue, hurrying to get you to urgent care, despite your protests that you could handle yourself. “I-I’m scared you’re gonna pass out or something j-jesus that’s a lot of blood.”

“I didn’t peg you for the squeamish type,” you poked fun despite getting a little light headed. He had a point.

“I see this much blood before breakfast, s-sweetie,”  you chose not to read too far into that, silently hoping to yourself you hadn’t gotten into a car with some sort of serial killer. You also chose not to read too far into the “sweetie”, but you certainly weren’t complaining. 

The waiting room of the urgent care was quiet as the clock ticked towards midnight. They had given you some ice and a clean towel for the blood, and you stared up at the muted tv above you as you tried to keep your head tilted back.

“I c-cannot stand these home improvement shows,” Rick piped up from the chair next to you. Despite telling him you were alright about 100 times, he insisted on staying to take you back to the venue after so you could get your car. You didn’t want to be a bother, but it sure beat getting in an Uber alone with some stranger. Well, Rick was still a stranger, but you were warming up to each other a little. 

“The Property Brothers aren’t doing it for you, huh?” You figured you’d get some conversation going instead of just sitting in silence.

“T-there’s just so m-much more to life than cheap backsplashes,” he rolled his eyes, “there’s a whole universe of new dimensions a-and other planets, and t-these people care about color schemes. You should see interdimensional cable.”

“You travel a lot then? For the band or for fun?”

“B-bit of both, I guess. Don’t really have anyone to travel with outside the band, th-the trips get long,” He fidgeted with the armrest of his chair as he spoke, staring at it as if it was the most intriguing armrest he had ever seen. His tone was almost nervous, like he was thinking about saying more but hesitant to share it. You understood, no need to pour out any extra emotions to someone you had just met. It made you wonder if you’d see him again after this, if he was just doing you a favor because he felt bad for breaking your nose or if he had some other goal here. You stared at the armrest with him, he had long, slim fingers and the slightest remnants of black polish on his nails. It made you smile to yourself a little, suddenly realising how out of place he looked in this clean, pastel room, HGTv playing above his head and fake flowers on the table to his right. 

You rested your elbow on the back of your armrest just under where his was reaching over, trying to give your arm a little break from holding the ice to your nose. You were starting to get tired, this wait seeming like an eternity despite being the only people there. You were worried he’d be missing bus call or something, but he didn’t seem to be making any efforts to check the time. 

“Y/L/N,” a nurse called from the door, and your eyes were open before you could even process that you had fallen asleep. You picked your head up and looked around for a second, feeling yourself fill with embarrassment as you realised you had fallen asleep on Rick’s shoulder. You whispered a quick apology to him and stood, following the nurse through the door as you went over what had happened. 

Rick stood up as you came back out of the exit door, and if you weren’t mistaken there was almost some concern in his eyes. “So the good news is you didn’t break my nose. Bad news is it’ll probably hurt for a while but you’re officially off the hook,” you giggled at him as he looked relieved and you walked back to his ship.

“So me being off the hook is the b-bad news then?” he smirked, turning to look down at you and your swollen nose.

“You’re not such bad company, Sanchez.”

“You’re not bad company yourself, Y/N,” he eyed you up and down for a second, pausing as if he wanted to say more again. You both climbed into your seats and took off back towards the venue. “You know, I-I’d say I actually improved your face,” he teased after a few minutes of silence. It earned him a smack to the arm. 

“That so? You wanna get your face improved, too?

“I’d love to see you try, s-sweetheart,” he was kidding, but you took a little offense.

“I can hold my own. I took an elbow to the nose without a single tear,” you looked over at him and smiled a little, not sure if you were trying to impress him or make him feel a little guilty again.

“T-that you did. You might be a little tougher than you look,” he reached over to give you a little pat of approval on the knee, but you didn’t complain when his hand stayed there, moving up a little until it was resting on your thigh. You started to admire the black band around his middle finger until he cleared his throat and took his hand back, “I uh, I’m sorry,” he muttered, almost more to himself than to you as he put his hand back on the wheel, and you silenced the whimper you had almost let out at the loss of contact. You honestly weren’t sure why you wanted it to begin with, or why he had chosen to apologize. Aren’t rockstars accustomed to picking up girls from the crowd? It made you a little self conscious until you realised he probably just didn’t wanna make you uncomfortable.

“You guys come to town often?” You offered, hoping to dissolve the sudden uneasiness that was radiating off of him. He looked confused about the question until he realised you were asking if you’d see him again and his eyes lit back up a little. 

“Never been here, might n-never come back,” he shrugged as you pulled into the parking lot. Your heart dropped a little, so sure you had been on the same wavelength all night. 

He started a dig around through his glove box until he pulled out a pen, putting out his other hand towards you. You were puzzled for a minute, before putting your hand in his, your hand looked tiny in comparison and it almost made you laugh. He started to write on your hand and it wasn’t until he let go that you realised it was a phone number and you smiled to yourself.

“Let me know if you ever feel l-like going somewhere. I can take you to places a lot more interesting than sh-shitty concert venues,” he still seemed nervous, and as his bandmates piled out of the Flesh Curtains tour bus and started to yell obscene things at Rick after noticing you in the passenger’s seat, you thanked him again for all the help and began the walk back to your own car, reeling over how you just got invited to travel the galaxy with Rick Sanchez.

[bethhxrmon]

passed down like folksongs, chapter fifteen- steve x reader

[gif credit to @flyingrichardgrayson​]

chapter fifteen- time, mystical time, cutting me open and healing me fine

series summary: Living in Hawkins was never easy for anyone. However, it becomes ten times more difficult than usual when you catch feelings for one Steve Harrington. What should be a simple schoolgirl crush ends up being complicated by your step-brother, Tommy Hagan, and the mysterious goings on in the town of Hawkins. [masterlist]

pairing: steve harrington x female! hagan! reader

chapter summary: With all of the events of the Upside Down behind them, Steve finally finds it in himself to open up about the past.

warnings: swearing, hurt/comfort, fluff

word count: 3.5k

a/n: Wooo!!! Technically what I would consider the last chapter!!! Because of that, I will be uploading the epilogue tomorrow, so hopefully one of those will get to go in the steeb tag (also bc classes started up again and I don’t wanna upload in the middle of a school day okay)

~*~*~*~

It was towards the end of July when the official funeral for your step-dad was held. There had been a service for all those who were killed in the fire a week before. One you ended up getting dragged into. Not that it was bad, Steve went with you. Though, it was clear he was just as keen to be there as you were.

Though, being at an actual funeral felt somehow worse. Steve kind of felt he had been to the worst one already when he went to Billy Hargrove’s a couple of days ago. He specifically told you that you shouldn't go. That he was mostly there to watch out for the kids. It was understandable. You remembered that Hargrove had a step-sister and if Steve felt like he could be helpful, you didn’t want to intrude. Especially when you wouldn’t have known anyone all that well.

Steve also insisted on going to your step-dad’s funeral when the time came as well. Not because he thought you needed him the way you needed someone at Barb’s funeral, but because he didn’t want you to be there alone. While you would have had your mom, she was so busy dealing with all the serious arrangements that you wouldn’t have wanted to give her any stress.

The only thing she let you handle were the flower arrangements. Most of which was dark red, almost black roses and assortments of white flowers. You never knew what sorts of things he liked. In all fairness, he never bothered to tell you much.

You tried to ask Tommy, just to see if grief changed him any. It only made him angrier. Your working theory was that he was convinced his dad left everything to your mom instead of him. Which was a possibility, but you knew that he’d turn out fine. He was leaving for college and with his dad gone, you were pretty sure that you were never going to see him much again after the funeral. That only made you look forward to it that much more.

All you wanted was for him to no longer be in your life. After all the things he did and comments he made and how much he came in between you and all the things you wanted to say and do, you probably should have wanted more. Maybe it would have made sense for you to have wished he had been the one to die in the fire, but you didn’t. He was so close to being gone and you could only be glad for that.

After all, had he not gotten his dad to vouch for him, you were pretty sure he would have been staying in Hawkins like Steve. Though, you were glad Steve was staying for a while. It meant there was time for both of you. No, you were never going to get him walking up to you at your locker or have him hold your hand as he walked you to class, but that was okay. What mattered was that you had him now and it made all the difference in the world to you.

With how nice it was outside, the actual burial was taking a long time as people talked to each other, trying to console your mom for her loss. It made you want to roll your eyes out of your head.

“You know, like, a month ago all these people were still calling my mom a cheating slut behind her back,” you said, leaning up against a tree.

Steve nodded, “Yeah, I know.”

“What, were your parents saying that?”

“Uh, yeah, they did… not that I really hear them talk much,” he sighed, “But, my mom always worries that my old man’s gonna divorce her for some younger woman like Tommy’s dad did.”

You nodded, “That makes sense… I just wish people wouldn’t be so damn nice about it now. It’s so fake and patronizing. And all for some guy who wasn’t even that great anyway.”

“Do you wanna get out of here for a bit?”

“Steve, I should at least stay-”

“Not out, out. Just maybe to someone else’s grave?” he took your hand, “Come on, I think you could use a few minutes somewhere else.”

You were pretty sure you knew where he was going with this, so you went ahead and followed Steve through the cemetery. It was pretty this time of year with many trees giving shade. Families still left all sorts of flowers on graves and the grass was well-kept.

Sure enough, Steve led you right to where Barb’s headstone was. The grave was relatively well-kept, though the Hollands ended up moving to the next town over. Enough for a fresh start, but also close to where their daughter was.

“I really hope ghosts are real,” you said softly.

Steve nodded, “I’m sure they are.”

“Well, if they are… I really hope Barb’s doing okay. I- I still think about her a lot. The things I said and the things I wish I’d said instead had I known I was never gonna see her again,” you took a shaky breath, “I don’t think I’m ever going to feel like I’m actually over it.”

He wrapped an arm around you, “I know what you mean.”

“How? Sorry, I- I just… I never really thought you missed her all that much.”

“I guess it’s not that I miss her. Well, not in the same way you do. It’s more in the way I really wish I didn’t have that party. And how I miss being able to look at my pool and just see a pool. Instead, all I think about is her and whatever she must’ve gone through.”

You leaned into Steve, “Did she disappear there?”

“Probably… no one really knows how it all happened.”

Every day it felt like Steve was getting closer and closer to telling you what happened. He would let odd and end details in. Though, none of it was enough for you to figure out what happened. It was enough at this point that you were pretty sure it was worse than whatever chemical leak the lab got accused of.

Still, no matter how curious you got or how badly you wanted to know everything, you weren’t going to make Steve say anything that he didn’t want to. It was enough that you knew he was going to tell you. Or that if he never told you, it wasn’t because he was trying to dupe you. It was because he simply couldn’t bring himself to talk about every awful thing that had ever happened within the last couple of years.

“Oh, um, I think I forgot to leave this at your stepdad’s grave,” Steve said, pulling out a white chrysanthemum from the inside of his suit jacket.

You felt him press it into your hands, “Oh, did you want me to leave it here?”

“Whatever you want. You could put it in my hair if you’d like,” he suggested, grinning.

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help but chuckle a bit as you knelt down and set the flower at Barb’s grave. Hopefully, she somehow knew that you still cared about her after all this time. That while it didn’t sting to the same degree, you knew that most of the damage could never be fixed. Not really.

“Is it okay if I tell you what happened to Barb?” Steve asked, sitting down on the grass.

You moved over to sit next to him, “Of course, if- if you’re ready, I wanna know.”

“Okay, well, I just don’t want you to get mad at me for not telling you when I knew. ‘Cause I’ve known a lot longer than you have and I’ve beaten myself up over it every day, but I really thought that telling you the truth was going to get you hurt,” he ran a hand through his hair, “I- I know it’s stupid, but I was told I couldn’t tell you. Technically, I’m still not supposed to, but you saw what happened at the mall and… it’s all connected and you deserve to know.”

You held his hand, “Well, you’re telling me now, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, you’re right, I am. Um, do you remember how Will Byers disappeared around the same time?” Steve asked.

He explained everything that he knew about the Demogorgon. At least, that was the name the kids gave it. How it went between dimensions and hunted people. It was attracted to blood and Barb had just the luck of cutting herself at his party. Something that he never thought would have been a big deal. He never even invited her, Nancy just insisted she come. In hindsight, Steve still didn’t get it, but it didn’t matter because she ended up getting killed either way.

No one knew if she died due to exposure to the other dimension or if she was eaten. Well, if anyone knew, they never told Steve about it. In all fairness, at the time he only cared about not getting into trouble for that said stupid party. He hadn’t realized how bad things truly had been.

Steve even tried to explain why he had cut you off so many times at that time. Right when you needed someone the most, he knew he couldn’t be around you when you were that hurt by what happened to Barb. It would have only made him more guilty.

“I know I shouldn’t have said those things, and you were smart for not wanting anything to do with me at the time,” Steve said.

You frowned, “You were grieving too. I never thought about that… I mean, you were still a total asshole, but I thought you were just doing it because you could. Because you wanted to just hurt me even more. I- I’m so glad that I was wrong about all of that.”

“I’m still so sorry that I said those things. That I told you she wasn’t going to come back. I knew she was dead and- well, hearing you talk about her like she just went on a road trip was hard to hear.”

You nodded slowly, “Yeah, I never really thought about that.”

“Of course you didn’t. I’d be surprised if you put all the clues together on your own. I- I wanted to tell you, just so you know. I felt awful about never telling you what happened. Like, when I saw you biking all the way out-”

“Why didn’t you tell me then?”

“Well, I um… I didn’t think you’d believe me,” he said, shrugging, “Plus, if I didn’t let you do some sort of digging, I figured you’d just try the whole thing again and- I couldn’t leave you on the side of the road like that in the first place.”

“I mean, I guess you’re right,” you admitted, squeezing his hand.

In all fairness, you wouldn’t have believed almost anything that Steve told you. Though, it made a lot more sense. That entire first year after Barb went missing made sense. How Nancy and Jonathan seemed to both be aware of something completely unknown to you, that wasn’t you going crazy. You noticed all those weird things because there were weird things happening around you.

You took a look at the watch Steve wore, “We should probably get back, or I should anyways.”

“I’ll go with,” he replied as he got up, helping you off the grass, “I heard there was supposed to be some really good food after all this funeral stuff.”

You laughed as you got up and walked back to where everyone else was. No one seemed to notice that the two of you had been gone for a while. It seemed like people really had been shaken by this happening to someone they knew. Though, most of the town was in that boat. Around thirty people had been killed by whatever happened that night. You just knew it was a lot more complicated than some fire.

The funeral eventually ended and time continued to press onward. It was getting to be August once more and it was a lot better than the first time you tried to be with Steve. He was a lot more open, even if he didn’t explain himself completely. That wasn’t what you wanted. What you wanted was for him to know that he could trust you and that you cared about him.

Some nights, the strange monster would haunt your dreams and it would force you awake in the middle of the night. Steve wasn’t always there when you woke up, but he was always ready to answer the phone. Then, he would sneak up into your room and hold you close until you officially calmed down.

While you didn’t mention it, you thought it was stupid of you to be so hung up over something you saw. Something that didn’t even feel real. Steve was the one who dealt with all that. It made sense for him to be so shaken up about it. Though, you knew he would have insisted that you had every right to be scared of that thing. You would have been an idiot to not be scared of that sort of thing.

One morning, you were in the garden, watering some red tulips when Steve came in. He tended to pop in whenever. While the summer was nearing an end, you saw a lot more of him than you had before. Sometimes it was with the kids or with Robin, but he was getting paid rather nicely after losing his job since the place burned to the ground.

You two got plenty of time alone, but you were used to that. What you weren’t used to was him holding your hands in front of the kids he watched while Dustin would make some comment about it. While it was a quick way to make your face heat up and look at the floor, it also meant that Steve cared about you enough to show you to other people. That was more than you ever expected in the past.

“So… before everything at the mall, did you ever see anything weird that you couldn’t explain?” he asked, leaning on one of the tables inside your greenhouse.

You shrugged, “I don’t know, what constitutes weird?”

“Uh, let’s say something you saw once and then never again. Something you always had questions about but never got an answer that made sense, those types of things.”

You stood there and looked around, trying to think of something. The last couple of years had been so odd and you never expected to get a serious answer to your questions. Yet Steve was right there, always more than happy to offer an explanation at this point.

“Oh! I got it, back around last Halloween, when all the farmers lost their crops, everything I had planted in the ground just went rotten. Our new tree died and it was from some weird, slimy fungus. I think it was from some slugs I caught on a couple of plants, but they were really odd slugs too.”

Steve  looked at you, “Wait, you saw actual slugs? Were they normal and you just didn’t recognize them or… what?”

“Well, I don’t know, they didn’t have the right coloring and they were hiding in some of the shadiest, darkest parts of the greenhouse which made it so hard to find them and throw them out,” you explained, “Wait, why do you ask?”

Steve took a deep breath, “You’ll wanna sit down for this one. I know exactly what you’re talking about.”

You went out of the greenhouse and sat on the lawn. Steve sat next to you and began to explain what happened all those months ago.

While you were busy wondering what could have been if Steve had decided to get back with you before that point, he had been learning about how those slugs were actually monsters. That the rot in the ground was from that other dimension. You had been a mere few feet away from tunnels that ran throughout the entirety of Hawkins.

Every time you picked up a slug and threw it out into the lawn, those things were going to molt into things similar to the Demogorgon creature that Steve described at the funeral. You had been so close to such a terrible fate this entire time and you never would have guessed it.

“So… you’re saying I’m really lucky to be alive right now?” you asked.

Steve nodded slowly, “Yeah, uh, I guess I am. I- I guess I knew about the whole thing with your plants, but I didn’t really connect it all until now.”

“Makes sense why you were with all those kids now,” you said.

At least, you were able to understand why Steve would be the one watching all those kids while Will was possessed by something from that different dimension. You just could barely believe that it happened twice. Well, technically three times, but you didn’t know much about the events of that summer.

To try and make up for such a jarring conversation, Steve got you lunch at the diner you liked so much. It just felt so surreal that you could have ended up exactly like Barb. Only, you weren’t so sure you would’ve had as many people out looking for you. Steve probably would have tried to do something, but he probably would’ve figured out what happened to you.

At least you wouldn’t have had some poor girl on a wild goose chase that she set up for herself just to try and find you. There was something mildly assuring about that. Though, if nothing else, hearing that finally got you to feel like you truly were lucky to still be around.

Time continued to pass by and you stayed with Steve. He was so good to you and you did everything you could to make him happy. School started and he was starting to look for another job with Robin as it became clear he wasn’t going to be getting whatever severance pay he had gotten for forever.

All the finances that dealt with your step-dad’s passing were still being sorted out. Though, it seemed more and more like everything was going to go to your mom. He never had a will in place, no matter how hard Tommy tried to insist they keep looking. At this point, you were sure he was just trying to delay the inevitable. Not that you thought your mom was going to cut him off. Though, you mainly hoped that just because it would keep him out of Hawkins.

The leaves on the trees were starting to turn orange, red, and gold in the park that you walked through with Steve. You had just gotten out of school and you wanted to see him. It had only been a day, but you had spent a lot of that day seeing other dumb couples getting to see each other the whole time.

“Hey, I think it’s about time I told you why I was so late to your party,” Steve said as he pulled you over to a park bench.

You nodded, “Okay. Is this the last thing of all the stuff that I’m technically not supposed to know?”

“Yeah, I think this is it. And if anything else happens, I swear I’ll tell you the first moment I think anything is going on,” he squeezed your hand, “It’s funny, because I was actually really close to telling you about this one before any of the crazy stuff happened.”

Steve finally explained everything with the Russian code that Dustin found that summer. How it all led to the Russian Base in the mall that had been spoken about on the news. The reason you didn’t see him at work was because he had been stuck down there, getting tortured by Russians. All the while the Mind Flayer that pulled the strings a year ago came back for more.

Your step-dad had both been killed by the monster and was the monster all at once. It made a lot more sense once Steve explained what happened in full, but it did make you feel sorry for him. Mostly because you couldn't imagine what being killed like that must have felt like. 

“So, that thing I saw that night, that was a bunch of melted up people?” you asked, furrowing your brow.

Steve nodded, “Yeah, it’s pretty gross to think about, but that’s how it happened. It’s all over this time, though. At least, I think so.”

“Hey, I’m sure it is. Whatever gate existed before is closed now and no American or Russian is gonna be able to change that again. It’s over,” you insisted.

At least, you hoped it was. You couldn’t blame Steve for being skeptical about it after the same thing happened three times. Still, you had been around through all of that one way or another. You weren’t planning on leaving now that you knew the full story.

taglist: @flyingrichardgrayson​ @stonersteve​ @scooprtroopr​ @insideafictionaluniverse​ @l0ve-0f-my-life​

[h-e-l-l-b-r-o-k-e]

Touch [B.H. x you]

Request:

Inspiration: Hands Across The Sea by Modern English

Words: 1828 Warnings: none.

Written Date: 3/16-31/2020 Posted Date: 4/4/2020

[MASTERLIST]

Scratched up skateboard wheels rolling across the pavement fluttered through the three-inch crack of the front door as Billy sat at the kitchen table. He’ll be met with a stern lecture from a mustached lip if a fly managed to wander into the home like a tourist upon their first breath of the A.C. at a hotel lobby, but Billy had much more important business to intend to. Report cards were just around the corner and with his sweet talking skills, Billy’d convinced the math teacher into giving him a passing grade if he turned in 200 solved problems by the end of the week.

He had seven days. Seven whole days to answer some textbook questions that they’ve gone over in class. It should have been easy, except it wasn’t. Billy was failing the class for a reason. Day five only had two hours left of sunshine, yet Billy’s currently stuck on problem forty-six. With each tick of the clock mounted behind him, his frustration grew.

One of his temples rested in the cup of his left palm as he beat the eraser head on the other before tossing the pencil at the book pages. Words were merging into numbers and numbers were blurring into letters.

Fuck it, he thought, I’ll just ask for a tutor. Yet he knew if he kept this mindset he’d fail, receive a smack across the back of his head, and still wouldn’t seek out a tutor.

He could hear the skateboard’s wheels beat relentlessly against the cracked concrete while Max explained the footwork behind the technique to you, who was sitting on the grass with your white cane last he check. Jealousy picked at the nerves in his forehead as frustration clenched his eyebrows together.

His mind began running off of the book pages and onto the blue sports car in his driveway. Would he have enough for the wash and the wax. Would there be enough leftover for a tip? Billy was an asshole to a lot of things, but he knew what it was liked to be stiffed.

Page 267 was beginning to give him more trouble than it was worth, and those pointers the geek with the lisp in his class gave weren’t helping at all. The rim of one of Susan’s good glasses touched the plush of his bottom lip, the cool water streaming down the well of his parched throat―

A gasp bordering along a yelp burst through the door, clawing its way into his ear. He nearly choked on his drink; some loose water dribbled down his chin.

Pushing out of his chair and the table he was leaning on, not caring if the polished hardwood caught a couple scratches, he was out the front door in five seconds.

Under the shade of his palm, which he planted against his eyebrows to fend off the sun’s brightness, he scanned the situation for clues.

His step-sister’s skateboard lied planted on the other side of the street. Upside down. Wheels spinning lazily under the shade.

The little redheaded runt’s wide eyes met his. Laced with alarm. Her bottom lip wobbled in search for words. Her hands held out below her…toward you, who was slowly lifting yourself by the skin of your elbows.

Raw. Blood beginning to clot around the loose gravel that clung to the wounds.

Billy marched through the grass, nearly tripping over your forgotten cane. “Max, what’d you do?!”

Max took a deep breath, crouching down to you. Her small fingers brushed your palm before helping you to your feet. “I’m sorry.”

As soon as you were back on the safety pads of your feet, Max turned to face her fuming step-brother.”I didn’t mean―”

His hand landed on her slender shoulder, shaking her like an earthquake rattles a brick foundation. “No, of course you didn’t mean to, you little twerp.”

A couple specks of spit landed across her freckled cheeks and nose, prompting her to screw up her face in mild disgust. “She wanted―”

“How many times do I have to tell you? You need to be careful with her, she’s―”

“Stop talking about me like I’m not here, Billy.” You dusted off the debris from your stinging cuts. “I’m blind, not fragile. How many times do I have to tell you?”

You would have walked off in the direction of his house if only you knew wherever the hell it was. Trying to land that kickflip Max had spent the last half hour explaining to you really messed with your sense of direction, but you weren’t about to tell them that. Your mother didn’t call you a stubborn mule for nothing plus you were getting really sick of Billy thinking you were weak, so you turned around and started stalking off without the aid device your parents payed for.

“Y/n, where are you going?” Billy called after you. “You can’t just leave.”

“Watch me!” You called over your shoulder, continuing your trek into the unknown.

Billy watched you walking down the street, and for once he appreciated living down such a long road miles away from the populated center of town. If it wasn’t one of his neighbors pulling into their cracked driveways after a long 9-to-5 shift or pulling away for a hearty meal at Benny’s Diner, cars rarely ever raced down this street.

Turning to Max, his grip loosened on her shoulder. “Grab your board and get inside.”

Max didn’t argue. Out of the two of them, Max had a more leveled head. She knew she could just check out the damage on your elbows and apologize again once Billy convinced you to come back into their comfy abode. Yanking away from her older step-brother, she ran for her precious skateboard.

“Babe, come on,” Billy tried to reason with you as his long legs neared you. “You know I didn’t mean it like that. You just―”

His warm hand gently latched onto your arm, turning you to face him. “I just what, Billy? You know people here either pity me or they stand feet apart from me like I’m made of glass,”the pressure in the center of your forehead begins to make itself known in the form of a headache, “I just thought things…here…were different.”

“They are, babe.” His chin bounced with quick little nods to reassure you. Sometimes he forgot that you couldn’t see these small actions. “Okay? They are. Max was teaching you one of her stupid tricks, and I just freaked, okay?”

Memories flicker through your mind, sounds and touch alike. When one of the mean girls at school had purposely stuck her foot out in front of you for taking “her man” away, you had bashed your head against a locker and were knocked out cold. You had woken up moments later in Billy’s arms as he carried you to the nurse’s office. You hadn’t bent over and died when the concussion symptoms came at you in full force; you had just taken the standard amount of sick days at home. Not any less and, definitely, not any more.

Other memories came at you, but none were as extreme as the concussion. Yet, with each scrape or nick that life threw at you, Billy reacted like blood was seeping through your clothing at an alarming rate or your lungs were restricting from lack of oxygen. Whatever it was, Billy acted like it was the end of the world for you.

“I didn’t cry when I fell off a tree branch and broke my arm in fourth grade, “ you began the recited verse you’ve told almost every member of your family, “so, I’m not gonna cry because of some stupid scuff marks on my elbows. I’m fine.”

“But, when I was sitting at the kitchen table, loss in thought, I heard it.” His thumbs were stroking the bones of your cheeks. “I heard you fall, Y/n. How was I supposed to know it wasn’t anything worse? When my dad first introduced me to Susan, Max walked around in crutches after a bad skateboard landing snapped her shin bone.”

You sighed, allowing his outlook on the situation widen the scope of your mind. Maybe you were being a little too harsh on him. After all, you couldn’t pour salt to the sizzle off the worry that ate you up inside whenever Billy decided to hang out with one of his pals. It would steal the sleep from you knowing he’d be driving around drunk. Him cradling you to the nurse’s office and you phoning him to make sure he made it to his bedroom safe were two sides of the same coin.

“I’m surprised Susan still lets her ride around on that thing.” His fingers carded through your hair. “I was just scared the same thing might of happened to you, or worse.”

“I understand, Billy.” You spoke so softly, Billy wasn’t entirely sure if it was just one of your breaths. A shuddering gasp forced its way out of your throat as you fought off the burning sensation of tears from the corner of your eyes. “I just get so frustrated sometimes.”

Your face met the soft cotton of his shirt as he brought you into the protection of his arms. “I know, baby,” He kissed the crown of your head. “I’m sorry I overreact sometimes.”

You sniffled a couple times before pulling away from him, “It’s okay.”

His lips brushed against the center of your forehead first then dipped his head to land another on your plump lips, but your fingers caught him. “You still have to apologize to Max first before you can kiss me.”

He took a deep breath. “Deal.”

Your fingers fumbled for his before before successfully latching on. You sighed as your palms melded together like ironworks as Billy led the way to his house.

As you both grew closer a loose thought struck you. “Wait. Don’t you still have homework to do?”

A/N: I hope I did alright in characterizing a blind reader.

[ilguna]

Metanoia - Chapter Eighteen (f.o)

Summary: you will be crowned victor of the 75th hunger games.

Word Count; 2.4k

Warnings; swearing, meanery

NOTES: i give reader a last name to fit the world.

–

You pace in front of the windows, staring out into the city. Every now and then, you’ll stop because you forget what you were doing, but then you quickly make up for the lost time.

There’s nothing really peculiar about the city that you’re looking at. Just staring at the Capitol is enough to make you blank out.. With how their buildings are shaped, placed and constantly refurbished. You’d think that they would be done at some point, but they’re always implementing their newest technology.

Take the whole Tribute Center as an example.

You pause your movement again, placing your hand on the glass as you stare at the building. It’s the tallest, in the heart of the city. And it holds nothing but grievances. You wonder if Coin will bother to burn it down, or if she’ll keep it.

If she doesn’t burn it down, you will. Right along with all the other apartment complexes and houses that discomfort you. You’ll make the Capitol your home, one way or another. It all starts with getting rid of all those places that you’d had to visit in your teen years.

How will arson be for refurbishing?

“Miss Rosecelli, you can sit--”

You look over your shoulder at Coin, who’s staring right at you. The two of you take a moment, and there must be something about your emotionless gaze that makes her drop it. Because her eyes drift downwards, and eventually away from you.

“She’s just nervous about the conversation she’ll be having with Finnick later today.” Johanna says, clicking a pen on the table, “About whether or not they’re gonna be a couple.”

Peeta looks at Johanna, you roll your eyes, Annie shifts uncomfortably in her chair.

You cross your arms, pursing your lips, “You’re a fucking bitch.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.” Johanna mutters.

“I could, but Finnick isn’t here to strap you down like last time.”

“That’s really rich, coming from the person who lost it on a peacekeeper.” Johanna snorts.

“Maybe that’s enough.” Haymitch says.

“Maybe?” you ask, turning around to see Johanna. Your face puckers up when you realize her back is to you, and taking the opportunity of a lifetime, in one swift motion you slap the back of her head on your way to your seat, at the other end of the table.

“You fucking--” her chair teeters from how hard she’s gotten up.

The door opens, and you look up to see that it’s Finnick.

“Good.” Peeta says, “Control your mutts.”

You turn a harsh eye to Peeta next, since you haven’t even passed him yet. And with the maturity of a middle schooler, you crack your knuckles right in his face.

“That’s fucking hilarious, considering you’re a Capitol bitch, yourself.”

Haymitch has had enough, and he doesn’t wait to see what Peeta does. He reaches over with one arm, yanking you away from the end of the table that you’re not welcome on anymore, considering the people. Johanna, Annie and Peeta. The only reason why you belong on the other side is because Beetee tolerates you and Haymitch doesn’t give a shit.

Or so you thought.

“Knock it off.” he warns.

“Go back to drinking your vodka-infused tea.” you hiss, going for the chair next to Peeta.

“What did I walk in on?” Finnick asks.

“A war zone, apparently.” Beetee has his glasses in hand, he rubs his face tiredly.

Finnick looks at you for a real answer, “What happened?”

“Johanna.” is all you answer, yanking out the chair as you sit on it.

“All I said was--” Johanna’s batting her eyelashes innocently.

“No one gives a shit about what you said.” you cut her off, “Shut the fuck up already.”

She clenches her jaw, giving you a nasty look. However, she doesn’t bother trying again. Finnick just places his hand on the back of your chair, and begins to talk to Peeta as if you didn’t just say the shit you did to any of them.

You cross your legs, and then your arms as you sink in your chair. You bite the inside of your lip and cheek, trying not to say anything that might get you in a deeper hole than you already are.

Although, it’s not like you’ll have to speak to any of the morons ever again after this. This meeting was required, Coin will crown herself as the next dictator later this evening, and then you’re free to choose a place to live. Beetee will likely stay in the Capitol--as for all the others, they’ll likely scatter.

Except for Finnick. He’s going to negotiate an agreement with you.

You told him simply; either you’re living in the Capitol with the rest of the circus, or you’re living so far off the grid that they’ll have to hunt you down for months just to find you.

And Finnick wants to live back in District Four. It’s where he was raised, and he finds comfort there. You can’t really blame him for it. You’d be going for District two, yourself if it weren’t for everything that has happened there. Victor’s village is a ghost town, and you found out the other day that not only are you the only surviving victor from two--your childhood home was burnt down.

So, if you go back to District Two, you’ll have to deal with the reconstruction of the main town, and buy yourself a freshly painted, picket-white-fence house. Or you can go to your fucking victor house that reeks like rotten food and spoiled milk.

However, if you don’t choose there, you can certainly start all the fucking way over in the Capitol. The only thing that would even slightly suggest your background are those apartment complexes. And the more you think about it, the more you’re beginning to consider burning them down.

Of course, you can’t touch the mansion. But everything else can go. They’re not a vital part of your history, and they certainly don’t deserve to continue to stand anymore.

As you’re staring around the room, Johanna catches your eye again because she’s staring straight at you. You’re about to roll your eyes and look away, but she mouths something.

Your eyes narrow, “Say it aloud.”

Finnick’s words falter and he looks down at you, “What?”

You ignore him, “Go on, say it Johanna.”

“What? Can’t read lips?” Johanna says.

“You’re a pussy.” you tell her, “If you can’t say it out loud, you’re a fucking pussy.”

“Is that right?” she grins.

You sneer, “You can enjoy yourself now, but the moment we leave the room, I’m going to fucking kill you.”

She snorts, “Yeah, right.”

You stand, slamming your hands against the table as you lean forward, “You want to see me actually lose it? Because this time I’ll do a lot more than smash your head against a fucking rock!”

“(Y/n).” Coin’s looking at you with wide eyes, “For your sake, I hope that’s an empty threat.”

“It wasn’t.” Finnick tells her, and then his attention is turned, “If you think that I’m going to stop her, you’re wrong.”

“It’s cute how you pretend to care about her, when she clearly doesn’t care about you.”

“Say that to all the times she saved my life on the way here.” Finnick tells her, “Sit, (Y/n), please.”

“I swear to god, Johanna. Say shit one more time and I’ll settle for killing you in here.” you sit back in the chair, elbows on the table as you clench and unclench your hand.

Right after, the door opens again. Everyone turns their gaze to who’s joined you all.

“What’s this?”

“The remaining victors, won’t you join us?” Coin asks, motioning to the table and the one single chair that’s open for Katniss. It’s right between Peeta and Haymitch.

It takes a moment, but she slowly makes her way around the table, taking her spot. Everyone else follows her lead, taking a seat in their chairs and their different poses. 

You watch as Annie blankly stares at Finnick, until her eyes shift away once she realizes you’re watching.

“I have invited you all here for several reasons. But first, I have an announcement, I have taken the burden and the honor of declaring myself interim president of Panem.” Coin says.

Your eyes drag to her. You can’t say you’re surprised, you literally called it just a few minutes ago.

Haymitch coughs like he’s choking on his own spit, “Interim? Exactly, how long is that?”

“We have no way of knowing for certain. But it’s clear that the people are far too emotional right now to make a rational decision.”

“Maybe you should consider a council instead.” you suggest, but your voice is hollow, “Y’know, so you’re not taking this burden entirely?”

“We’ll plan an election when the time is right.” Coin says, indirectly answering your statement, “But I have called you all here for a far more important vote, a symbolic vote. This afternoon we will execute Snow. Hundreds of his accomplices also await their deaths, Capitol officials, peacekeepers, torturers, gamemakers.”

You bite the inside of your lip again, trying to bite your tongue. You want to criticize everything she says. There’s so many flaws, and the others have to see this too, right?

“But the danger is, once we begin the rebels won’t stop calling for retribution. Thirst for blood is a difficult urge to satisfy. So, I offer an alternative plan. Majority for may approve it, no one may abstain.” She says carefully, “My proposal is this; in lieu of these barbaric executions, we hold a symbolic hunger games.”

Haymitch slowly lowers his tea cup. 

Silence fills the room instantly after. As well as the looks on the other’s faces. Mainly the horror that Annie expresses, the little smirk forming on Johanna’s face, and the deadpan look that Katniss hasn’t lifted since she sat down in her chair.

Then, Johanna starts laughing, “You want to have another hunger games with the Capitol’s children?”

You dig your fingernails into the skin on your thumb.

“You’re joking.” Peeta says.

Coin shakes her head, “Not in the slightest.”

Haymitch scoffs, “Is this Plutarch’s idea?”

“It was mine.” Coin says.

Johanna clicks her pen once or twice, the smile on her face growing.

“It balances the need for revenge,” Coin reasons, “With the least loss of human life. You may cast your votes.”

“No.” Peeta nearly overlaps her speaking, “No, obviously not, this is crazy.”

Johanna leans forward, “I think it’s more than fair. Snow’s got a granddaughter. I say yes.” She looks at Peeta after, like she’s trying to strike a nerve.

“Johanna has a point.” you say, which makes a lot of heads turn, but your eyes are on Coin, “My vote is yes.”

“You guys, this way of thinking is what started the uprises.” Peeta says.

“I vote no, with Peeta.” Annie says.

“I vote no too.” Finnick says, and he looks at you, “After everything that happened to you? You really want to say yes?”

You lean towards him, “Some of those motherfuckers have sons and daughters. My vote stands.”

“No. We need to stop viewing each other as enemies.” Beetee says, you nearly forgot he was there because of how quiet he’s been.

It’s down to just Haymitch and Katniss. Katniss is staring right at Coin, “I get to kill Snow.”

“I expected no less of you.” Coin says, a smile hinting at her lips.

That rubs you the wrong way, and you can tell it does the same for Katniss, even if nothing physically changes. It’s the way Katniss pauses before speaking next, that gives it away, “Then I vote yes. For Prim.”

“Haymitch?” Coin asks, Katniss slowly turns her head to him.

They stare at each other for a moment before he decides his answer, “I’m with the mockingjay.”

“That carries the vote, excellent. We’ll announce the games tonight, after the execution.” Coin says, a smile is on her face.

You get up from the table, “Sounds good to me.”

Your eyes land on Finnick, eyebrows raised. He catches the drift and gets up from where he’s sitting.

“We’ll see you guys later.”

The two of you leave the room with no comments from anyone else. The moment that the door has shut behind Finnick, he’s on your ass.

“You seriously voted yes?”

“I’m out for blood.”

“I can tell.” Finnick says, he catches up with your pace, “I’ve been thinking about what you wanted.”

You slow a little, allowing him a chance to speak without it being rushed.

He takes this as a sign to keep talking, “Before you get mad, I know what you said, alright. You want a fresh start, away from people you know. District Four is like that.”

“Except for the fact that your ex-girlfriend is going to go back there too.”

“She isn’t.” he says.

You look over.

“She’s going to stay with Katniss’ mom or something. I talked to Annie last night to make sure I heard everything right. District Four is ours for the taking. It’s a fresh start to you, and it’s home for me.”

Finnick’s got a look on his face, and with the way that he’s already calmed you down immensely--he’s been getting better at it, lately--you can’t help but to be compliant.

“What happens when your neighbors hate me?” you ask, “Or we fight?”

“Easy, we get you a vacation house here.” Finnick’s proud of this one, he’s got a smile on his face, “You’ll be able to come here whenever you want. Live your life of luxury, and then come home.”

You stop walking now, “You’re sure you want me to go there, though? You want me around?”

Finnick laughs, coming closer. He’s gentle with the way he cups your jaw with one hand, looking down at you, “Honey, I’ve been chasing you around this entire time. I’m not going to stop now.”

You squint at him, “Honey?”

A smile appears on his face, and you can’t help but to smile too.

“Don’t let it get to your head.” Finnick says, running his thumb over your cheek.

“I let everything get to my head.”

[prose-for-hire]

I [still] know what you did last Halloween...

Part one // Part Three // Part Four

Pairing: Scooby gang x reader (platonic)

This is the second part to a platonic story with the reader as part of the Scooby gang. Set season 3. This is a multi-parted serial killer/slasher fic for Halloween. Yes, I had to include Spike. Yes, I am sorry. Reader lived with Giles, but is not related. 

Warning: It is a serial killer fic, main characters are going to die (I’m sorry, it’s Halloween). Violence. Blood mention. Alcohol consumption. Swearing.

Sunnydale students: SOS

Sunnydale Express, October 1999.

The Sunnydale slasher strikes again, leaving one teen dead and two injured. There was a house party last night [12/10/1999] which left the student body with one less. The identity of the teen, who is yet to be identified based on extensive injuries should be announced to the public after the family is informed.

However, it makes us at the Sunnydale Express question: was it the teens fault for breaking curfew?

It was the day of the funerals. There was to be two back-to-back.

The first funeral was Giles’. It was an intimate ceremony, the core group and a Watcher who had never met Giles alive. He was there to ‘oversee’ matters but Wesley told him where to go. This had surprised you, the man wasn’t usually so forthright but he had appeared to be fond of Giles in some way.

Your group stood, staring into the open grave. You were now minus two members. There had been some crying earlier, but everyone’s faces were stony now. As if they were set in place. Exhausted from crying, not sure if you would die from dehydration if you wept another drop.

All of the colour had been sucked out of the world and you were all now aware that you were only briefly passing through this life. You weren’t aware everyone else was sharing your cynical thought, but they were.

You felt the most immeasurable guilt. You felt guilty for Giles’ death. For being the reason he was gutted so brutally. Used to write a crude message on the wall. His life had come down to being the ink in someone’s pen and it angered you that this was what his life had been reduced to. But mostly, it sickened you.

And, as Willow tapped you on the shoulder and gestured that it was time. Your mind still trying to wrap your head around the imagines you had seen in the past week. It was never going to get easier.

It was all a blur. It was screaming and rushing of bodies all around you. 

The room had started to thin. Only the injured and your friends remained. Willow had started to mutter something, a kind of protective spell - she grabbed your hand needing your strength. 

The slayers danced around each other, their fight mean and brutal. he appeared human, but his reflexes were good. Almost, too good.

He was blocking them at every turn. He appeared to be enjoying it. He was studying them. Learning their movement. Anticipating what would come next. They fought hard. Buffy hissing as the tip of the scythe cut into the flesh on her upper arm.

Then it happened. You could barely stomach thinking about it. Xander had walked into the room-

Xander had been a good friend to you. He was never perfect and you liked that about him, he never pretended to be someone he wasn’t. He looked out for you and he had been there for you when you had almost broken down and run to the police months ago. He had been firm that it had to be kept secret what you had done, but never refused you a shoulder to cry on.

His funeral was a lavish affair, his parents turning on the waterworks despite everyone knowing how they would treat him at times. They had paid for only the best, with a large number of people attending. The church was packed out. It made you wander that if any of them knew what he had been involved in with the rest of you, would they be so quick to say they had always liked him? Always seen him as brave and strong?

Any time the family saw any of the people that were there that night they scowled. They glared. And they burst into more tears. Why were you spared, when he wasn’t?

The six of you huddled together. Oz was more distant than usual, his hand on Willow’s shoulder as she couldn’t control her sobbing now. Buffy was sat with you, trying to hold it together as you wrapped an arm around her - willing yourself not to fall apart either. Cordelia and Faith had started bickering. It was getting progressively louder and your group was getting funny looks. They eventually stopped but only when the priest shushed them and started to say the final words before Xander was cremated.

Bravery. It was a word that had been said a lot that day, in that stuffy church hall. But it rang true, clearer than the tolling bell.

He had been brave.

 Everything stilled when he entered the room, as if time had been slowed for that one moment. And who knows, maybe it had. It was Sunnydale. The masked figure stopped fighting Buffy and stepped over an injured party-goer. He had been waiting for this. the guest of honour.

The masked figure had just been killing time fighting the slayers. Xander’s fate was decided before he had got to the party that night. 

Xander’s face had twisted in horror, his eyes met yours and you started to scream. He nodded, resigning himself to what was coming. The figure swung his scythe back, shrugging Faith off him who had tried to tackle him and swung at Xander.

A sickening noise. A splatter of blood sprayed the entire room. Willow dropped your hand in horror, stunned into silence as Xander’s head rolled to Buffy’s feet, the same look in his eye. 

There were media crews set up everywhere outside the church. They were using Xander to tell their stories. It would anger you, but you felt too washed out to say anything. You didn’t even comment when you overheard Harmony on her fifth interview, now talking to the local news outlet.

“Did you know the victim well?”

“Well, yeah. He was a total dork- which was so cute we all loved him” She smiled saccharine sweet making sure nobody had noticed her initial look, “Like, everyone wanted to date him he was a total stud-bucket”

“Were you there that night?”

“Yeah – everyone was, duh! But Carrie totally crashed and I don’t hang around with losers. Even being seen with her is like social suicide!” Harmony maintained firmly, as if that was the most important thing she had been interviewed on, “So I left early”

“Okay- that’s great Harmony. One last question: how are you and the rest of your high school class going to cope after this devastating loss?”

“Well, we’re all gonna graduate as long as we’re not all dead first. I am going to be a counsellor at Camp Crystal Lake in the summer. I’m just pleased to have a break from Sunnydale – senior year has been kind of a bummer so far what with the killings” Harmony shrugged and turned away, swishing her long blonde hair as she walked and her clique followed her. Even Cordelia rolled her eyes as Harmony walked past your group.

You stood motionless for a moment, it felt like a second to all of you but to onlookers there had been enough time to paint a detailed impressionist painting. The only title fitting was: loss. 

“Where do we go from here?” someone finally spoke up.

“To the function”

“I-I don’t think I can” Willow sobbed into Oz’s shoulder.

“It’s worse if we don’t show our faces. Even if it’s just for a minute…” You suggest, really wishing the words hadn’t come out of your mouth. You didn’t want to have to face Xander’s family again, “Angel said he might come, what with the sun going down soon”

“Free alcohol. Score” Faith smiled.

“You’re right” Buffy said, still staring into the distance.

“You wanna get drunk?” Faith raised an eyebrow that lowered when Buffy shook her head.

“No. Y/n’s right. We should go. But we all need to talk – in private, when our heads are clearer. Need to figure out what’s going on” Buffy spoke, her usual self-assured tone was weakened slightly. Her voice hoarse from all of the crying.

You all nodded distantly, walking into the function room together, but feeling miles apart.

Death! Destruction! Mayhem!

Sunnydale Express, October 1999.

Rioting of many stores in the centre of town has been widely reported by those on the ground. Many young people, have taken to the streets to ‘protest’ the curfew. These troubled teens do not understand the importance of hard work and have instead taken to looting and picking up where the killer left off: damning our town.

They have old friends to meet; Disco music to dance to and big ticket items to steal from struggling small businesses.

Meanwhile, the death toll of the cases related to the ‘Sunnydale Slasher’ is now 5, and we ask the residents of Sunnydale: when will they learn?

You walked into the magic shop, one of the only shops on the row that appeared to be untouched. Maybe people knew better than to loot a magic shop. The rest were fair game. You had been hoping to find some kind of ingredients that would help you sleep. Or at least, allow you to relax for even a minute. You felt responsible. For everything and you weren’t sure how to deal with it anymore.

But apparently, this store hadn’t been untouched by those taking what they wanted. You stumbled in on a vampire having a midday snack. Spike. Shit.

You started to back out slowly, but he had seen you. He dropped the corpse of the shop-owner and stepped over her, walking slowly towards you. You sighed, you really weren’t in the mood for this. Everyone around you was dying and now you had to talk to one of the undead.

“Don’t move” He warned, pointing at you as he licked the side of his mouth to catch the blood that had been dripping there. When he noticed that you weren’t even scared, almost a little bored – waiting for him to finish he got annoyed, “You know what I could do? I could snap your neck and-”

“I already have one killer after me, what’s one more?” You sighed again. He raised an eyebrow and you just shrugged, not willing to get into it. Not until he said something.

You had sat, sliding down the wall and he had for some unknown reason (to either of you) decided to join you. He was sobering up and needed some kind of distraction at any rate. He had been staring, sitting beside you and scanning your features in a way that would make you feel uncomfortable if you had cared what he was deciding on.

“You seem different, y/n. From last time, I mean. Not sad, but damned near it - you’re almost making me feel better about my Dru”

“I killed someone. Well, not me, but I helped cover it up…” You admit, after a huge sigh. Spike barely even blinked, this kind of confession didn’t phase him in the slightest.

“Who did?”

“Slayers”

“I think they have a licence to kill, love. Don’t make it right but there it is” he shrugged, ready to get back to his feet and look for some liquor. Until you spoke again.

“He was human” You say softly, “Mr Bates. He had a name and a-a family-”

“I’ve killed hundreds of humans, so what?” He spoke over your turmoil. He didn’t feel guilt in that way, so he couldn’t really relate to your low mood.

“It hurts. It aches… but worst of all it makes every experience I’ve ever had… tainted. Wrong in ways I can never describe. It’s like I’m walking through a nightmare, and everyone else is right there with me. It’s not as if I can go to the police. Or talk to anyone else about it… not properly”

“Thanks, that’s sure to make a fella feel special” implying he wasn’t counted in anyone. But he wasn’t very hurt by the statement. This was the first full conversation you had together, he wasn’t that invested in your relationship.

“You know what I mean” You shrugged. And he did. He started to explain to you why he was back. About Dru and everything that had happened since you last saw him. You tried your best to wade through your own thoughts and chip in here and there. He clearly needed to vent too.

You and Spike eventually left together. You had convinced him, after hearing of his predicament, he needed to convince Dru to take him back and he agreed. You walked part of the way before he was going to go and get into his car and you were going to head home.

Night had fallen and you were about to part ways when he came for you. Spike heard him before you saw him. But the figure still made the both of you flinch slightly, before Spike rolled his shoulders and decided he would have to fight doubly hard for showing that weakness.

The hood was down and you could see the mask properly. It was a black material, with a chiselled grey skull etched so forcefully it was as if it was his actual face. The bones were harsh and looked as if it could cut despite it being a plastic mask.

Spike ran straight for him and started to match his offensive blows with his own. Spike appeared to have the upper hand as you just stood and watched. You knew if it came down to it, you could be collateral damage and neither of them would be too bothered.

Somehow, Spike had been knocked to the floor and before he could get up, a scythe had been lodged deep into his torso, hitting the ground beneath him with a horrible metallic sound. The reaper hacked at Spike, who hissed and cursed at him, but didn’t die as the killer had suspected. The reaper stepped back a few paces. It allowed Spike to get to his feet. There was a lot of blood running down Spike’s torso. His shirt was in tatters.

“I bloody liked that shirt!” He snarled, looking down. Trying not to choke on the blood that was moving up his trachea. If he had been mortal, he would have died ten minutes ago.

The masked figure cocked his head, figuring something out. Not working. Not human.

Spike charged at him, throwing punches and blocking the scythe easily. He was stronger. Spike had bit into him and knocked him to the floor. He started to stamp on him repeatedly until a gargled choking sound was heard from behind the mask. He landed on more swift kick for good measure before deciding he was as good as dead.

Spike turned back to you, for some unknown reason, and for probably the first time in his un-life he went to check on you. A human. He felt that you had some kind of bond after you both shared your woes. He was about to ask if you needed any help before he drained the killer and left to find Dru, but the words never left his lips.

“Spike!” You screamed as you saw the killer rise to his feet and remove a stake from his pocket. It all happened in slow motion. Spike wasn’t able to turn quick enough, he had been caught off-guard. Bollocks. The killer plunged the wooden object directly into his heart and the bleach-blonde vampire exploded into a pile of dust.

“You did this” He spoke for the first time. His voice like gravel. He knelt and took a handful of dust and walked towards you. You stumbled back, hitting a brick wall. You had nowhere to run. You were backed into a corner. He threw the dust over you, leaving you spluttering and rubbing your eyes. You were expecting death any moment, but it never came.

When you opened your eyes again, there was nobody except you in the street.

Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust

Sunnydale Express, October 1999.

Many have petitioned the Mayors office due to the large volume of litter and dust that has appeared, often overnight, leaving citizens having to take matters into their own hands. The large number of ash filling our streets tells us that unauthorised fires and barbecues have been set up through town with little being done by authorities to subdue this illegal activity – especially after our newly enforced curfew.

We implore the mayor’s office to make an immediate press release and ensure there is enough man-power to make sure our humble town is cleared during the night.

You were in Giles’ house. It had been left to you. You were touched, but every footstep you made in that house filled your body with guilt.

You were hosting a scooby meeting. You didn’t have any food in, everyone had started to pass around Giles’ single malt, drinking it straight from the glass. Even Buffy took a sip every now and again. You all needed it. Life was starting to become unbearable. Cordelia had joined late, rushing straight from cheer practice.

“What do we know?” She asked as she set her bag down and looked around as if you had the killer tied up in the bathroom, waiting for her to come so you could unmask him. 

“Zip. Nothing”

“The killer is targetting us, that’s all we know. Some kind of twisted revenge. We just need to find out how he knows and why he’s so strong”

“Simple then” Faith shook her head.

“Oh and he takes out anyone in his way, so it’s not just us”

“What did the swim team ever do to him?” You wondered out loud

“It’s the tight pants, he likes a little modesty” Faith snickered and you scowled. How could she be so okay with this? She was the one that had stuck the stake in his hear, finished him off. You were feeling all this guilt and she just didn’t seem to even care.

“But does he even have any proof? Let’s just go to the police and say we’re being targeted”

“Yeah there’s witness protection! We could get new names!” Willow backed Buffy up quickly.

“That won’t change anything. We’re still killers” You mutter and everyone stopped. You had never said anything like that out loud before. You were usually the one that kept everyone optimistic. But it was too hard at the moment.

“Shut up! We’re not! It was an accident. Just an accident”

“How do you explain Giles?” you said glumly, glancing sideways to where his body had been.

“What is up your ass today? God, people are dead. We all feel it. But you’re just giving up! It’s not right!” Cordelia shouted. 

“I’m living in our dead librarians house. Rent free” You sighed, “The house we cleaned and made look like an accident”

“Can it, y/n. None of this is our fault. We gotta do this or we’d be in jail”

“But if we keep doing this, we’re going to die” You replied, “Like Spike… he was gone. Just… dust”

“Well, I can’t say I’m gonna shed many tears” Buffy muttered.

“He was… nice. The last thing he did before he died was come over to check on me”

“Oh come on, y/n! He was probably gonna eat you”

“Whatever. I know what I saw and I can’t help feeling that you’re suddenly on team psycho” you muttered. Faith was watching in interest, but didn’t speak up again. She took another swig of alcohol and shrugged. You couldn’t help think you saw a satisfied smirk on her face, but it may have been a trick of the light. Or the whiskey. You set the glass down and went to see what Willow was looking at some research. 

Giles had left some books open on his desk. He had been looking into the Sunnydale slasher, it seemed. When the books gave you nothing, you turned to the internet. You all started looking for some magical solution. There had to be something.

As the night wore on and the words got blurrier, it was getting harder to concentrate. And harder to get along.

“There’s no- no trace!” Willow said, getting more frustrated, “I can’t find anything”

“Maybe if someone did less cheating on her boyfriend and more reading” Cordelia snapped.

“That’s so not fair! I’m doing more than you!”

“Will, you’re doing the same amount as her” You offered. Cordelia had been researching too.

“Why are you always on her side – you’re supposed to be my best friend”

“I’m just being fair”

“You think this doesn’t involve you, huh?” Faith suddenly stood up and stared you down. You had been the first to admit you were at the centre of it all, but the way she phrased the comment, just made you snap.

“Well, you were the bitch that killed the poor man and managed to be surprisingly cool about it. Maybe you’ve done this before. Maybe, you did it on purpose!” You shouted and Faith pushed you hard. You landed on your ass.

“Fuck you!” She screamed. Not as cool or collected as you thought. The flash in her eyes spelled danger. It concealed guilt and deceit. It told you everything you needed to know. You got to your feet, walked straight out of the room and slammed your bedroom door. Allowing them to let themselves out.

Cordelia had gotten worked up as you stormed out, standing up to Buffy and shouting, “Sunnydale would have been better without you in it! All you do is attract stuff like this. You know who I blame, Buffy? You. You’re a Slayer all wow and look at me but what have you done? What have you done to protect any of us?!” Cordelia flung her arms out in annoyance, the glass that had been holding the whiskey flying out of her hand and crashing to the floor.

“Cordelia-” Buffy started.

“No, let her speak” Faith said nodding along.

“They’re picking us off one by one and of you – either of you – have done anything except hide bodies and celebrate that you’re slayers so you’re not gonna die! What about us!? What about people that are meant to be your friends?” Cordelia shouted. She was scared. She was angry. She couldn’t trust any of them anymore. You had given in. Willow just agreed with Buffy and she had a history with her. Buffy and Faith didn’t seem to be anything and she just wanted to escape. Hopefully with her life intact.

“Cor, we’re doing everything-”

“You’re not! You’re so not!”

“So what’s your plan then, huh? Lay down and wait for the killer to come get you? ‘Cause I haven’t heard anythin’ helpful come out of your mouth” Faith

“Shut up anyway, you just got here and you expect us to care? I hope you go next!” Cordelia screamed in Faith’s face. Faith just shrugged, but the whole room could tell that had stung her. She then turned back to Buffy,  “This is your fault, Buffy. This, everything that has happened since last Halloween is your fault”

“Get out” Buffy said firmly, “Go!” she raised her voice as a tear slid down her cheek and Willow quickly went to comfort her.

“Fine. I’ve had enough! I’m leaving – I’m moving! I don’t wanna see any of you ever again!” Cordelia shouted, slamming the front door behind her and cursing every single one of you as she huffed and stalked away into the night.

[yoongi-sugaglider]

Daegu Quarantine

Jungkook x reader

Gang/ zombie apocalypse au

Warnings:

Gore, violence, blood, gun shot wounds, zombies, mention of drugs and drug dealing, weapons discharge in self defense, main character death, zombies, course language, zombies, drinking, did I mention zombies?

Summary:

They were the top of their game, known throughout the city as the smartest and most dangerous crew to ever hit the Daegu streets. But what’s going to happen when this group of young men encounter something right out of a horror film?

Word count: 2172

A/n: Omgg I am soooo sorry!! I forgot to add a read more T.T I fixed it I promise!!!

Part 13===Part 14===Part 15

Jungkook was blind fury and rage, seeking those that'd dare harm what was his. He stalked through the halls, all caution thrown to the wayside as he mowed down body after body heading his way. It wasn’t the infected he was looking for though. 

“SEO EUN KWANG!!!” Jungkook’s voice rang through the hotel lobby, echoing in the empty expanse as he stopped in the center of the empty space to stare around.

“You know Boss…” A condescending voice drew his attention to the check in desk, “I never really wanted things to go down like this…”

Jungkook drew his gun to center mass, face a mask of emotionless disinterest at the man’s words. “Minhyuk and Sungjae are dead.” He growled the words out, vision tinted red at the corners as he watched Eun Kwang sigh and shake his head.

“I told them to take the night off. They weren’t even supposed to be at the warehouse. But you know how it is. Balancing out a mutiny with an apocalypse is just never going to go in anyone’s favor.”

“A fucking mutiny? What the hell is this, Pirates of the fucking Caribbean? You betrayed me Eun Kwang. After everything you fucking sell out piece of low end garbage. Not only that, you got HER shot.”

The older man shook his head once more with a laugh, leaning forward to place his elbows on the checkout desk’s high wall and tap at his temple with his gun. “Little dongsaeng, it was always in the cards for this to happen. You were just too blind to see that one little boy from Busan could never handle running the entirety of Daegu. You dreamed big, yeah. But kid, this city was just too big for you.”

“What the fuck are you even talking about?” Jungkook stalked forward, arms never wavering as he sighted the gun right for the center of Eun Kwang’s forehead. “I never wanted to run this whole town. You fuckers put that on me. I just wanted to make enough to get by. Make sure my girl had everything she needed. None of that included taking over a damn thing!”

“Easy there little cowboy. Another step closer and my boys are gonna have to protect me and the last thing I wanna do is end up killing you.” Eun Kwang smirked as Jungkook halted in place, eyes darting around to spot three men stepping from the shadows, each with their guns aimed at him and almost manic grins gracing their faces.

***

Pain.

Everything was pain and screaming.

“You’ve got to get her to wake up!”

I couldn’t help but to groan, hands reaching out to grab the nearest person as I fought against the pressure held against my outer thigh.

“It hurts...make it stop it hurts!” I whimpered, blurry gaze taking in the worried faces of Seokjin and Yoongi who were working to hold me down. Rose’s face appeared above me, panicked as she shushed me and pressed down on my forehead to keep me still.

We were in a room of some sort, no longer in the hotel kitchen so I couldn’t be sure how long I’d been out cold. Cleaning supplies surrounded us but the pain in my chest and leg kept me from being able to take in any more information as Yoongi had renewed the pressure on the molten mass of ouch that was my thigh.

“Can’t...breath…” I whimpered out.

“Release the straps on her vest. The ceramic plates will have shattered, if she’s got any broken ribs it’s gonna get a lot worse for her.” The voice in my ear crackled to life, startling me as I struggled for a moment to register Jimin’s calm tones whispering in my ear.

Seokjin released my uninjured leg, moving to lift my upper body. The pressure on my chest increased, blinding me for a moment as my lungs decided they didn’t want to work. I stared up at the ceiling, mouth open in a silent scream and tears chasing each other down my cheeks as Jin unzipped my jacket and fumbled to release the straps that’d been holding my tactical vest together.

As the straps released air whooshed into my lungs and I let out a sob of relief, though it didn’t last long as a strange shifting in my chest caused more pain to shoot through me.

“F...fuck…” I coughed, turning my head in Rose’s lap and shutting my eyes as a wave of dizziness rolled over me.

“Alright, once she’s breathing better shift those plates around and strap her back in.” Jimin’s voice came again and I turned my head towards Jin, eyes wide as I shook my head desperately to stop him. But it didn’t matter, and deep down I knew it as Jin pulled the straps tight and snapped them back into place. The pressure was a bit better, but damn did it hurt.

“Yoongi, have you got your silencer barrel on you?”

Yoongi grunted in reply, turning with one hand still holding pressure on my leg as he unscrewed the barrel from his sniper rifle. 

“I’d tell you to fire off a round or two but...not now…”

“I know what you’re gonna say…” Yoongi shifted upwards on his knees, placing the silencer on my chest for a moment and digging into his pocket. His hand reappeared and I watched on in a confused haze of pain and worry.

He nodded to Jin who groaned to himself as he picked up the silencer and held it delicately out to Yoongi. The silent assassin reached out, flicking a lighter and producing a flame that licked at the cold steel of the barrel.

My eyes widened in panic and I began to struggle, knowing deep down exactly what they were about to do.

“Keep her still.” Yoongi growled and Rose rushed to comply.

She grabbed my flailing arms, pinning them down to my sides as she shifted forward to keep a better hold on me.

Me struggling didn’t matter.

The pain no longer mattered.

The...the smell of my own flesh searing didn’t matter.

Only the bliss of one final scream chased closely by unconsciousness.

***

“Oh god…” Rose retched, losing her grip on the limp woman as Yoongi continued his grim work.

It really took no more than a moment to cauterize the bullet wound. It stretched less than 3 inches along the expanse of her outer thigh, but the blood loss alone would have caused quite an issue later on, not to mention the risk of infection. Yoongi treated the wound as best he could, wrapping it in the remains of the shirt Jungkook had tossed them before they’d locked themselves inside the supply closet of the hotel. 

Seokjin sniffed, covering his nose with the back of his wrist as he stared forlorn down at the cold sweat that glistened from the unconscious form of one of his favorite people. He shook his head, grinding his teeth before tapping the inner earpiece to signal to Jimin they’d finished the work.

The haggard doctor sighed through the communication device. “She should be safe to move. Just try not to jostle her ribs too much. I take it what Yoongi did made her pass out?” 

Rose whimpered, fingernails digging painful crescents into the palms of her hands as she struggled to regain control of the tears flowing down her cheeks. True, she’d been desperate for rescue the moment the news started rambling about people eating each other but...this? This wasn’t what she’d hoped for. She’d never wanted any of them getting hurt.

“I’ll hand things over to Tae, I’ve got to go get the infirmary prepped for when you guys get here. Try not to get hurt in the meantime…”

Yoongi grunted, eyes focused in on the hasty bandages as if waiting for them to bleed through. Taehyung’s voice returned, strained as if he’d been crying though none of them commented on his tone of voice.

“Alright, I’ve got visuals on Boss and Hoseok. The alley looks clear from this angle, along with the side streets that’ll lead you guys back in this direction.” He paused for a moment before continuing. “Boss, I know you want to go after them...but we’ve got to get her back home. Yoongi hyung and Jin hyung could manage it solo but not without risking getting hurt or worse..infected…”

There was a brief moment of silence before Hoseok’s voice crackled over the line. “We’re headed back. Get ready to move out.” 

Yoongi nodded to the two figures either side of him, tucking the silencer barrel into a side pocket on his black cargo pants before handing the rifle itself over to Seokjin.

The trio were silent aside from the occasional sniffle from Rose but eventually they managed to pack as much as they could away, checking to ensure their weapons were all reloaded in the process. 

Yoongi worked gingerly, lifting y/n’s limp form into his arms bridal style and turning to nod to Jin. A single tap to the earpiece and the others were alerted that they were ready to move out and head home.

***

“Hobi hush. I’ve already told you none of the wounds are life threatening. If you wake the Boss I swear to all the high heavens that I’m blaming it on you and running.”

The whispering voices woke me, a welcome balm to the chaos that had been my nightmares.

Before opening my eyes and alerting them to my consciousness I took a moment to take stock of what I was feeling. The throbbing in my leg had gone away, probably due to whatever medication Jimin had managed to get in me. The weight alone let me know that it’d been treated and wrapped, though the weight in my chest hadn’t eased much.

I groaned, shifting a bit in an attempt to get a bigger breath of air. This got the attention of the two whispering voices which quickly stopped talking followed by the distinctive sound of shuffling bodies. After a moment a small hand slipped around mine, lifting it slightly as Jimin’s voice followed.

“Hey Boss Lady, you waking up?”

I peeled my eyelids open, one at a time before blinking to clear the blur and focusing on the two concerned faces hovering over me.

“Mmm...think I’m awake, though somehow I feel like I should be far more grateful for that stockpile of pain meds you like to keep around.”

Jimin gave me a shaky grin and a sniffle from beside him caught my attention. Lifting my head slightly I caught the sight of a forlorn Hoseok, eyes puffy and the normally sunshine glow of his grin nowhere to be seen. I let go of Jimin’s hand, fingers wiggling to catch Hobi’s attention.

“Hey, I’m here. I’m okay I promise.”

The poor boy whimpered, lower lip sticking out as he grabbed my hand in both of his. Closing his eyes he leaned forward, forehead pressed to my fingers as he sniffled his way out of the tears.

“Don’t...don’t do that to me again Boss Lady. I don’t like it when you get hurt….” 

I shook my head, giving a short laugh that only served to leave my head swimming as whatever was going wrong with my ribs shifted. “Ho...boy…” Releasing Hobi’s hand I arched my back as best I could, inhaling deeply and wincing as something strange popped in my chest.

“Alright now.” Jimin muttered, pushing me back down onto the bed with a frown. “I know it’s hard to breathe, but try not to breathe too deeply. You want those ribs to heal up properly you’re gonna wanna give them a chance to settle back where they belong.” 

I nodded, though relaxing back to where I’d been laying was harder than I wanted. I glanced to my other side, realising that the reason I hadn’t been able to move that hand was because a pair of incredibly toned arms was wrapped around it and a shaggy head of hair was currently pinning it to the bed.

I turned to the other two boys, arching an eyebrow at them in questioning.

“He hasn’t left your side since you all got back. Course...he hasn’t said much either.” Jimin sighed, rubbing his temples to release some of his pent up stress and then carding a hand through his hair. 

“Mmm… how long was I out?”

“Half a day. The Boss only just passed out about an hour ago though…”

I nodded, gaze returning sadly to the softly snoring form beside me. My heart ached for him, even knowing I was the one injured not him. I waved my hand, giving the two boys a soft smile to let them know I’d be alright on my own.

They left, Hobi sniffling the whole way as Jimin softly closed the door behind him. It was better to let Jungkook sleep. Things would run just fine without him for a while.