#JUST TRYING TO SPREAD THREE PISTOLS JOY

[revenantghost]

Sweating seeing Watanabe posting about Tristamp's promotional artwork and how important it was to the team while I just wholesale yoink it to promote the anniversary event

[alfredosauce50]

From a past life [Yandere vampire! Romania x reader]

Synopsis: For centuries, he waited for your return--your rebirth. So when he finally learns of your whereabouts just outside of Wallachia, he rushes to meet you in hopes of becoming what you both used to be. But he runs into a predicament when he learns you're in a relationship with a man, a pesky human mortal by the name of Daniel. He'll do anything to get rid of him, even if he has to play dirty. He made a promise to you that he would find you for the rest of your lifetimes, so God forbid that he breaks it. Wordcount: 3, 813 The reader is referred to as she/her.

A trip to Romania had always been on your bucket list. Your boyfriend was just as excited to go, but he wouldn’t have been if it turned out to be the last trip you'd ever go on with him.

Today was when you would visit the highlight of your itinerary. On the Transylvania side of the border with Wallachia, and nestled in miles of rolling hills, was Bran castle. The awe-inspiring fortress told one of the most famous tales of old as Count Dracula's abode. Or at least, it was rumored to be as it fit the description of it.

Needless to say, you were dragging him around the estate to admire anything and everything that piqued your interest or served as a potential photo spot. “Oh, hurry up, Daniel! This is where he slept!” Scrambling closer to the grand bed, which was certainly framed with more wood than needed, you leaned in behind the red rope that fenced off the artifact. Then, you flashed him a wide grin.

He returned the gesture with a tender smile of his own. “I'm as old as this castle, kicsim. Let me take things in slowly.”

“You're only three years older than me. I don't think you have the right to call me little or yourself old.” Flattening your lips at that, your frown melted away as quickly as it appeared.

“But look! Dracula's sheets and mattress. Though it would make more sense to say it was Vlad's... The guy he was based on. Hmm, but that wouldn't make sense either.”

The man rubbed the nape of his neck with a soft laugh. It was no doubt he shared your enthusiasm, but your unapologetic passion always made him fall harder than he already had. “Yep. I believe he was imprisoned here. I don't think he'd be getting the master bedroom.” He appeared from behind and rested himself on your head as you placed a pistol grip on your chin.

“Even then, I can't imagine him sleeping so soundly after sticking so many sticks up people's--” Two strong arms squeezed around your waist to make you gasp.

“Ah-!”

“Okay! What do you say we go down to the gardens for a walk, hm?”

And that was exactly what the two of you did. Skipping out in front of him, you held onto his hands and swung his arms. “I'm gonna go down to the pond, okay? You can enjoy this place nice and slowly like the old person you are.”

This was the greenest garden you ever had the pleasure to stroll through, even the tea house blended in with its moss-covered roof. It only emphasized how ancient this castle really was, and something about it delighted you in ways you couldn't articulate.

“Alright, kicsim. I'll see what nice flowers I'll add to my hair.” Daniel scooped the pink blossom from his hazel brown bangs and placed it behind your ear. “When I do, I'll come get you. Don't let any vampires find you before I do.” Shooting you a wink at that, you pecked him on the nose before running off.

Who would have thought those words would ring truer than he intended? Several miles away, slept a man who was as old as Bran castle. His name too was Vlad, though he never earned such a fearsome reputation by impaling his enemies. Instead, he kept a low profile and dedicated his long, neverending life to finding someone.

Every restless night, she was what he dreamed of since her passing.

When I go, promise me you'll find me again.

Promise me.

Fluttering his eyes awake, they glowed a blood-red in the darkness of his bedroom. They drooped with a tiredness that never seemed to go away no matter how much he rested.

Sliding off the mattress, he folded the flaps of his robes tightly around his body before making his way into the halls. Every corner of this humble countryside cottage he called his home was enshrouded with shadows, and not to mention the thick coating of dust caking the top of every shelf, couch, and tabletop.

He hadn't cleaned this house for centuries. His will to try withered away through the years in his lonesome, but he was patient. Peeking through the gap between the curtains of his overgrown hair, his irises shrunk as the blinding daylight poured into them through the drapes of his living room window. He could feel it in his dead still heart.

Something had changed.

Out there in the world scorched by the sun, was something even warmer. And it was so familiar, so tender, he could not mistake it for anything else, or anybody else for that matter.

She was nearby, and the thought filled him to the brim with a joy so potent, tears of relief welled in his wide eyes. He had waited hundreds of years for this moment. For her return. Her rebirth that would usher in his own.

The prospect was so invigorating, he felt as if his heart began to beat again. He never felt so alive. Scurrying back to his bedroom, he sat in front of his vanity to access his appearance. He had to look presentable before meeting her, hadn't he? A bedhead like this and nightwear would simply not do.

Especially when he hadn't cut his hair for at least twenty years.

Giving his long locks of strawberry-blonde a thorough comb, he let it fall straight down to his lower back. With a few quick snips, he shortened his bangs by a few inches to give the impression he had some sort of control over an otherwise uncontrollable mane of hair.

As he shed himself of his robes in exchange for day clothes, a white dress shirt paired with dark plaid pants, one singular thought repeated in his head like a broken record. As morbid as it sounded, it was more of a Godsend than anything.

Death was never the end. Not for her, and not for him. Or rather, a new beginning.

But it didn't start the way he imagined. Following her sweet scent to the gardens of the famed Bran castle, he found the smell growing more and more pungent, albeit confused. It was mixed with another's, tainted by the stench of a human male. His irises thinned to slits, and he tensed up all over. How could this be?

Hiding behind a tree, he peered over the side to confirm his suspicion.

There she was, her beauty as pristine and untouched as the last time he loved her. For just one second, he was over the moon. But his euphoria was short-lived when he saw that she was with a man. Kissing him, even. Even though it was just on the nose, any further down her face would have caused him to start an apocalypse.

That insignificant, trifling, and scheming little creature. He was about to reap what he sowed. How dare he take his place? It was him she was meant to with, not that pesky mortal!

Whipping his head to the front, his eyes went round with disbelief and his breathing grew ragged. An unfathomable ache spread in his chest as he dug his nails into the bark. How could he have let this happen? It took every shred of his willpower to keep the waterworks at bay.

His throbbing heart was also weighed down with a pang of heavy guilt. To allow another soul to be this close to her was a grave disservice to the promise he made. But that didn't mean he couldn't undo this.

In just a few seconds, he formulated an intricate plan to carry out well-deserved revenge. To have her in his arms again, and him, out of the picture where he belonged. In the blink of an eye, he appeared behind the man and tapped him on the shoulder. When he spun around, he grabbed him by the neck and caught him in a trance with his hypnotizing, inhuman gaze.

“You will give these flowers to the nearest young woman you see. Put them in her hair and kiss her on the lips.” Opening his own palm, he materialized three peonies before placing them in the other's.

Unable to escape the powerful snare cast by a vampire such as himself, Daniel did so as told. “I will give these flowers to the nearest young woman I see. I will put them in her hair and kiss her on the lips.” He reiterated monotonously with his eyes glazed over.

Watching the helpless man saunter off, he smirked devilishly as he exchanged glances with his long-lost lover. This would hurt her a great deal, but she would only be devastated if he never did it.

You had been watching the pond, completely ignorant to the scene that was about to unfold. Little did you know, it was purposely orchestrated. Using a stick to prod at your reflection, you lingered on the ripples distorting it before glancing up. In the distance was none other than your boyfriend, and judging from the pink in his hands, he found his flowers.

So you stood up. You would have snuck up on him as a surprise, but your feet remained firmly planted on the ground when you witnessed him give it away, then flirt with another woman. It couldn't be mistaken for anything else. He was kissing her!

Frankly, you couldn't believe it. One year was all it took for him to lose interest? Blood flushed your face as bile rose in your throat. How could he? And during a vacation at that, too! Tears threatened to spill out of your eyes, but you blinked them away when you heard the light treading of feet nearby.

This had to be a misunderstanding. Right?

Spinning to the source, you found yourself staring at the most peculiar man you had ever seen. He carried a delicate parasol to shade him from the sunlight. Combined with his pasty white skin, it was almost as if he was one of the very mythological creatures the country was renowned for.

He smiled gently, almost understandingly.

“Are you alright, domnișoară? I have a spare handkerchief if you'd like.” His alluring voice was as bewitching as a siren, but his mere presence brought you unspeakable comfort. And yet, he was nothing but a stranger, an odd one at that, so you were at a loss to realize that all it took for you to gravitate towards him was for your eyes to meet.

“I'm okay, thank you. But I couldn't possibly accept something like that. I mean, I don't know you...” Waving your hands at the man apologetically, you took the opportunity to scan him up and down.

As if he walked right out of a fairytale, he oozed prince-like charm. His clothes were traditional and refined, but that long, silky hair of his was certainly a rare sight--rare but breathtakingly beautiful. It gave his character untold notions of grandeur, mystery, and an inexplicable impression he was ancient.

But that couldn't be, not when he didn't look a day over twenty.

“What do you mean, you won't take it? It's yours.” He pulled out a small piece of fabric from his sleeve. Placing the finely embroidered cloth into your palm, he never gave you the chance to object. “It would be rude to regift something, so you'll have to keep it forever.” Mischief curled at his lips, and you couldn't help but laugh a little.

“Alright, alright, you got me there.”

You dabbed away the moisture before breathing out a sigh.

“I'm sure you're a very nice person, but I can't bother you more than I already have. Thank you, again, Mr. Vampire.” If it weren't for how heartbroken you were, you would have been mortified. Being pitied by a Romanian local was never part of your plan.

Just when you were betrayed by Daniel, he appeared like a knight in shining armor. If only you could forget what happened between you and your boyfriend. Otherwise, you would be bragging about meeting a vampire in Romania for as long as you could talk.

“Mr. Vampire?” He lifted his head before revealing a pair of sharp fangs in a grin. Now that caught you off guard. “You don't see me calling you miss human--and I have a name, thank you very much.” As he placed his gloved hand on his chest to playfully feign offense, he bit back another smile at the sound of your amused giggling.

Despite what happened a few minutes ago, talking to this actor was making you feel better already.

“And let me guess, is it Alucard?” You shook your head. “Or is it Vlad? You can't possibly call yourself Dracula looking like that.”

He blinked incredulously, then curved an arm over his face as if to cover himself with his non-existent cloak. “How did you know?”

“That your name is Alucard?”

“No, Vlad.”

“Okay, close enough. It was nice meeting you, Vlad, but I have a stupid boyfriend to scream at.” At the mention of that, you looked like you were on the verge of tears again. “All I'm hoping is that he's still my boyfriend after this. If only he were as much of a gentleman as you.”

He reflected your distress in a frown, and you would have been surprised by how much this apparently bothered him. But you already walked off. So he offered one last niceity before you strayed too far. “Good luck with your boyfriend.”

“No promises.”

He let those two words affect him more than he intended. Needless to say, he moved on quickly to watch you run to the unsuspecting brunette. Soon, his anguish was staved off by the sight of you shoving him back a few steps.

What looked like a one-sided argument broke out, and all the poor, confused man could do was just that--be confused. Shortly after, you stormed off, and he jogged behind, desperately calling your name.

A sinister smile cracked at Vlad's lips, and his irises glowed red. That little thing had no idea what was yet to happen to him.

That night, Daniel took you to the Brașov city hall for dinner. The beautiful buildings surrounding a fountain were as traditional as they were clean. Too bad your zeal was burned away by your anger. In the few hours in the hotel before, he barely managed to soothe it by explaining himself. A given, considering his explanation made no sense whatsoever.

He couldn't remember flirting with a woman.

“I think we could share a pizza. Are you okay with that?” Lifting his gaze to meet yours, you only turned away to stare out the window into the endless night. Your spaciness was deserved on his part, but little did he know, it only had so much to do with his wrongdoings.

The eccentric local never left your mind. After all, he gave you something to smile about with his whimsical kindness.

Vlad must have been an entertainer, a virtuoso at that, but his actions never came off as ingenuine. To be frank, you were drawn to his sincerity, and even looking for him subconsciously, wishing that he could magically appear because you willed it.

If only Daniel could be just as sincere.

“I must be okay with a lot of things.” His face fell. The same sorrow from when he was at the hotel room returned, but you couldn't care to give it any attention. “Like you pretending you didn't kiss someone right in front of me because you don't remember. I'm not stupid. Who else would have long hair tied back and flowers in their fringe?”

Daniel knitted his brows so tightly together, creases formed between them. “... I know it sounds like I'm lying, but I swear to you I didn't do it. You know me, (F/N).” At this point, he hadn't the foggiest what to say to appease you because he simply didn't do it. “I promise. All I'm asking is for you to trust me.”

“You promise?” You fumed.

There was only one thing you hated more than a liar.

“I trusted you, Daniel, I really did. But how could you ask me to trust you after I talked to that girl? She remembered it, so why can't you? Did you think I was that crazily into you I could let anything slide?” The biting truth silenced him, but it was the sound of you choking back tears that broke his heart.

“I'm gonna go to the bathroom to think this over.”

He had no way to argue with you, let alone the heart to when it was just broken and crushed to a thin slab of flesh. What if he really did kiss someone, and miraculously forgot?

“When I come back, I better not see you kissing anybody again.”

Standing up at that, he watched you leave with a defeated expression. Then, he folded his arms across the table and buried his face into it. There was no way he could fail that, could he?

What were the odds of kissing someone again when he had absolutely no intention to? The chances were dwindling at zero as he kept his head down. Unless supernatural forces were at work, nothing could get him to budge from sitting at this table.

But even he couldn't count on the world of the mundane to save him.

Sitting a few tables away was the exact opposite of mundane. When the front door slammed shut, he stood up and walked to the customer with their head down. While all the men in the establishment wore their hair short, his was long and flowing like time itself. There was something other-worldly about him. Something ghostly in the way he walked.

With every step he took, his feet never seemed to touch the ground as if he was floating. And his pale complexion was just as macabre as how he carried himself.

Not a minute passed, and Daniel found himself standing outside by the fountain. With absolutely no recollection, he somehow left the restaurant and wound up here in the festive courtyard. As shock paralyzed him from head to toe, the only thought that occurred to him was this. What in the hell was going on?

Rather than sitting head down in the warm restaurant, he was out here, chilled by the biting European cold. Couldn't he have at least remembered the transition?

In front of him was the same woman he supposedly flirted with in the gardens. And judging from the blush on her cheeks, he just threw away all his chances at making up with you.

“Listen, I... I don't know you. Forget me. Forget this ever happened.” Daniel trembled, feeling a chill run down his spine as he staggered back a few steps. It was like a nightmare he couldn't wake up from. There was just no sound explanation for this when this situation wasn't sound at all. Whatever it was, this was clearly a case of sabotage.

And like hell he was giving in to whoever that masterminded it.

He ran back inside with a fearful kind of urgency. Rushing back to the table he unwillingly abandoned, he froze when he saw you marching towards him down the aisle with murder on your mind. But death was too lenient a punishment. It would grant him a clean slate, a new beginning from a past life of unfaithfulness.

So he was splashed with a glass of red wine instead.

As the crimson liquid soaked his hair, it spread over his shirt like blood. After you saw what he did, the last shred of hope you didn't know you had died, squelched out there on his clothes for the world to see. A chorus of gasps was heard from every corner of the restaurant. Unbeknownst to the patrons who murmured amongst themselves, it wasn't just any lover's quarrel they were watching.

Daniel's breath hitched as he struggled to process his mortification. Behind you stood the very gentleman that tapped him awake, but he never made the connection between him and his misfortunes.

And perhaps, it was better that way.

After leaving your boyfriend for good, Vlad offered to walk with you around the city. Once again, he had swooped in to save you, only this time around, he was staying.

“So... What are you gonna do now?” He asked, casting a tender gaze your way. Before you could wrap your arms around yourself, he beat you to it and flung his cloak around your body. When you gawked at him, he only grinned toothily with his fangs.

Your cheeks reddened and you turned away. Why he was still in his vampire getup was beyond you. But seeing his enthusiasm only reminded you that you lost yours. “... Book another hotel room. Spend the rest of this holiday crying. Maybe never think of this country ever again.”

“And I'm not letting you do any of those things.” He hummed, giving you a gentle squeeze. “Why do you think I'm walking with you right now, hm? I'm gonna take you around to the best spots in Transylvania. The most haunted ones, I mean. So you can forget about going back to the hotel.”

You sighed but managed a small smile. “That's great and all, but I'm not made of money. And my stuff is all there.”

He squinted. “... Oh yeah. But after we get your stuff, we can go elsewhere, can't we?”

A few laughs fell from your lips. His generosity really knew no bounds. “Your house, then? You do realize I only met you today, right?”

Vlad closed his eyes. He could beg to differ.

“But you're still walking with me alone. In the dark.”

“Only because you saw me cry twice today. I wouldn't be mad if you killed me so I don't have to be so embarrassed.” He frowned at the sound of that, so you added this. “I was just kidding. Something about you just makes me feel... Strangely comfortable. Like I've met you before. Isn't that weird?”

“... Not really.” Reaching the top of a hill, he stared at an old castle in the distance, sitting high up in the mountains. “There's a legend about this city. Hundreds of years ago, a vampire and a human woman fell in love. She died, of course. But people say he's still around, waiting for her to reincarnate so they can be together again.”

The way he spoke was so sad, it was almost as if he was that very vampire himself. But what did that have to do with you?

“... Okay. Then do you think he'll ever find her?”

Vlad turned to you with an unreadable expression, but there was an untold fondness in how he looked at you.

“He already has.”

[youarejesting]

The Bomb

[Masterlist]

Beta: @juniethebug​ Rating: 16+  Pairing: Namjoon x Reader Genre: Mafia, enemies2lovers.  Trigger Warnings: mentions of Violence, Gore, Torture, Drinking and wetting yourself in public from fear and a full bladder during a gun fight. Character death. Words: 9.4k

Summary: The leader of a mafia should be calm collected and poised. He should live meticulously and know what he needs to do. Namjoon was that man, he had rules that kept his business running smoothly and nothing can get in the way of that. Can it?

[Part 2]

Kim Namjoon, the leader of the biggest mafia in Seoul, lived his life by many rules. His first rule, a man should only cry three times in his life. The first time is when a man loses his mother, the one who raises a man to be who they are worth mourning. 

The second when a man marries the love of his life and he shall weep tears of joy. The third and final time a man is allowed to cry is when he sees his first child born.

Pathetically sobbing against the dirty concrete while getting the life beaten out of you is not one of those three incidences. “I will ask you again, where is the payment I was promised?”

“He gave it to his daughter, used the money he was supposed to pay you, on his daughter; a beautiful emerald necklace. Something about it being her birthday and wanting to gift her with something as pretty as she is.” Yoongi scoffed, spinning the knife around his fingers a habit he had developed to keep his dexterous fingers busy.“Or at least that is what Hobi had to say after tailing the man all day. Just take the necklace from her pretty little neck; she doesn’t have to come with it.”

“The birthday party is tonight, a lavish affair for their daughter, every man, woman, and child from rich backgrounds were invited to the ball held at their Manor.” Jimin sighed, rolling some scotch in his glass.

“Be ready to leave in ten minutes.” Namjoon walked to the door, Jungkook opening it for him. A reminder of rule number fourteen; a powerful man never moves unnecessarily, which includes opening doors and stepping aside from someone.

Pulling on a black on black suit he fastened his Platinum Rolex to his wrist, in his classiest polished pair of dress shoes. Walking towards the front door, he stopped by the front door and Yoongi pulled open the suitcase, graced with the sight of two pistols both with a shiny custom nickel finish with gold filigree on the handle and barrel.

These were gifted to him by Taehyung, a man with an eye for the finest of arts. Just like the weapons he provided he was a beautiful young man with an innocent face. But he was a dangerous man and rule number ten. Never give the man who provides you with your weapons the chance to provide them for anyone else. Of course, naturally, that meant Namjoon hired him in an instant, not willing to let his enemies use his weapons dealer.

The boys were heading to the car; Seokjin was going to drive as he was the most sensible behind the wheel. Each piling in Namjoon looked at his watch and over the five individuals in the car.

“Should I tell Jimin to hurry up?” Taehyung said reaching for his phone, he was in the middle of texting when Namjoon placed his hand on the phone pushing it to his lap. 

“No need we leave without him, he knows the rules-”

“Rule number fifteen, a man is never late,” Jungkook nodded; he lived by Namjoon’s word and his rules. Knew them better than Namjoon did himself, wrote them down, and numbered them as the leader taught him each one.

The car door was shut by Seokjin who situated himself into the driver's seat and pulled away from the house. House may be a bit of an understatement even Namjoon thought so, officially titled the Kim Manor with four stories complete with east and west wings, staff quarters, elaborate gardens, and land. 

It was the picturesque home with lavish rooms headed to the front gates, a motorbike raced past and pulled up. Jimin climbed into the car with the others, grumbling about how the wind destroyed his hair. 

He ran his fingers through his hair trying to return it to its former perfection, once the gates spread open they headed on their way to the party. 

Each stepping out at the foot of the manor, fixing their hair and suits one last time before heading up the steps. “Your invitation, sir?”

Yoongi pulled out a gun and tapped it against the clipboard pushing it down so he could read it. “That's us there unchecked, sorry we are late, traffic is horrible at this time of the day,” the man swallowed thickly. 

“Of course Mr. and Mrs. Le pomme, you don’t look French?”

“It’s Ms. Actually,” Yoongi poked the man's chest with his gun. 

Namjoon turned speaking immaculate French to the young man and patted his shoulder. “Jungkook always learns a language, a man should never miss an opportunity to learn new things.”

Jungkook was writing the new rule down following behind them, Yoongi pushed the gun into his waistband and the group entered the manor. Walking the floor as a small unit they began analyzing the ballroom. 

Jimin had disappeared and Jungkook smiled gesturing to the young woman who was mingling a beautiful emerald necklace delicately nestled against her decolletage. Namjoon looked her over. She was stunning with her smooth skin and gentle curls. 

She was nothing like he expected, Namjoon thought she would have a dark tan and bleach blonde hair, with extensions and the latest trending nails and jewelry and shoes. 

But this woman. This gorgeous woman had pale skin with sun-kissed freckles, her lips were a soft velvety crimson. She wore a simple black dress but somehow managed to still be the most beautiful person in the room. He could gaze at her forever and never get tired.

You smiled feeling proud of your outfit, it was such an elegant and complicated piece, a sweetheart bodice with off the shoulder lace straps it was a thin and long dress that fell to your ankles showing off a pair of thin heels. 

It wasn’t a famous brand designer, no, you made this yourself there were many little fun hidden details. You were speaking with your friends when he approached. 

He was handsome, his profile was strong one you would remember easily he had a small scar on his eyebrow but it added so much character to his image. 

“Ladies,” he greeted the small group with a short bow, his eyes flicking up and meeting yours full of confidence and you gave a small friendly smile back. 

“Shall we dance?” He asked, and you, never to be overdone, agreed. You had never been asked to dance before. Especially not by someone this handsome.

“My name is y/n. You?”

“You may call me Namjoon,” he smiled and you blushed, looking at his dimples, he was so charming and cute. But there was something about him he took the lead and guided you through a slow waltz. Something you couldn’t put a nail on. Something… sinister..?

You gasped clutching his bicep gently. He saw the emerald necklace secure around your delicate neck. Your breasts strained against your dress with every breath. 

“You seem to be out of breath miss y/n?” His fingertips brushing gently across your décolletage. He too was breathing heavily from the physical activity of dancing. 

“A testament to your dance skills,” you tried to laugh back. 

“Perhaps we should get something to drink,” he took your hand and weaved it so your arm wrapped around his, “we can chat while you relax but I do apologize for being too enthusiastic.” 

“No, really, it is okay,” you protested, not wanting to seem too affected honestly it was embarrassing to get tired after one vigorous dance. 

“Indulge me,” Namjoon’s raspy voice reverberated so low you could have almost mistaken it for a purr, “I would very much like to steal a few extra moments with you” 

“Well then, I shan’t protest,” you gestured towards the refreshment table where he handed you a champagne flute. The two of you drank slowly his eyes locked on yours. 

“Sir,” a voice called politely, you were both pulled from your intense eye contact to see Your father flanked by two young and very handsome men. 

“Thank you for inviting me to your party tonight, sir.” Namjoon shook his hand firmly, his voice made you shiver, it wasn’t as light as it had been before, there was something clipped in his tone. Your former suspicions returned to you. Hard.

“Ah, Mr. Kim, I am glad you could make it, I didn’t think you would come to such a small affair?” Your father smiled, he was sweating a sign he was nervous but trying to hold his cool. 

“Dad is everything okay?” You took your father's pocket-handkerchief and dabbed his forehead. 

“Darling I would like for you to get some pictures with your mother. It is your birthday after all,” you looked at him curiously and almost yielded to his request when a firm hand caught your wrist. 

“Just a moment I would like to give you your birthday gift,” Namjoon smiled reaching into his pocket, his next statement seemed to cause the young man beside your father to scribble in a notebook. “A man must never come to a party empty-handed, especially not a birthday party.”

“Oh it’s okay, I don’t usually get presents anyway,” you were flustered by the prospect you always requested not to get presents to spare people the trouble of spending their money on material things. 

“That is a shame a pretty young lady like yourself should be spoiled daily,” a hot flush pinked your skin and it crept up your neck. 

He handed you a box wrapped in a small ribbon. She opened it to reveal an emerald bracelet just like the necklace she wore and he helped secure it to the wrist and smiled. 

“Emerald looks brilliant on you?”

Namjoon looked your father directly in the eyes watching the man sweat. Would he sell out his own daughter for his own safety? “Well darling, mister Kim and I are just going to do a quick spot of business”

“Okay,” you nodded, Namjoon looked over his shoulder and made a gesture to Jungkook and Yoongi to keep an eye on you. While following your weasel-like father to his study.

“I know why you are here and I am sorry, I had the money ready to give you but it was my daughter’s birthday and I couldn’t turn up empty-handed,” Your father said “I will get you the money by the end of the week.”

“You will as I will have collateral just in case your daughter will leave with me.” Namjoon threatened before adding an afterthought “tonight”.

“Please don’t hurt her, I will get you the money, I promise. Please.” He pleaded, dropping onto his knees. Namjoon felt his eye twitch in disgust. 

“You will give me the money, otherwise you will never see your daughter again.” 

You were feeling kind of awkward, the two young men accompanying you weren’t awful company, they just weren’t very talkative. 

“So you work with Namjoon?” you asked 

“Mmm…” one so graciously grunted in response

“What do you do?” you swayed from foot to foot trying to strike up some sort of conversation.

“Mister Kim is an entrepreneur,” The taller man said excitedly. You nodded; he very obviously liked his boss.

“You seem to enjoy working for him then,” You asked happily and the two nodded going back to standing around.

“Ah, you must be the birthday girl?” A sweet voice called your attention, “Wah, You are so beautiful miss y/n?”

“Have we met?” Already knowing you hadn’t met any of these men they were way too handsome for you to just forget. He had long legs accentuated by his high waisted trousers, his feet moved one in front of the other with all the grace and caution like a model in a field of landmines. He scooped your hand into his grasp and kissed your knuckle’s eyes searching your person and the room. “Park Jimin.”

Beside him was a taller young man who was boyish with big rounded ears that added so much youth to his face. “I do not believe we have ma’am and that is a shame” He also kissed your knuckles politely and threw you a grin. “Kim Taehyung at your service.”

“Tell me, miss Y/n. Do you like Painting?” Taehyung asked with a grin and you nodded 

“Though I am not good at it, yes.” You sighed while playing with your lace sleeve, you were currently surrounded by these very tall and intimidating men. “Do you like painting?”

“I enjoy it greatly my dear, would you be interested in painting with me?” He smiled brightly and you grinned feeling more relaxed.

“I would love to,” you grinned and they all got a text to their apple watches that they read and quickly dismissed from view.

“Miss y/n, we would like to hold a toast,” Jimin grinned, handing you a champagne flute. You nodded and Jimin led a toast celebrating your birthday, ending his short speech with. “You have to all drink it in one shot for the best of wishes for the birthday girl” 

You drank heartedly watching them all drink as well, the conversation continued and you were happily chatting about all different things when you started to feel rather drowsy. “I think I drank too much.” You giggled, feeling tired, a warm coat was draped over your shoulders it was super roomy and you felt yourself drift off.

There were strange sounds and lights passing over you periodically, though it stirred you it wasn’t enough to wake you fully. Only when your body had fought the immense fatigue did you wake. 

Everything was stale, the air, the room, life, for a moment you didn’t move. Your body was heavy and your head clouded. Taking a deep breath you sat up the lush blankets in their covers making noise against the soft satin sheet. 

The room wasn’t yours, the furniture was all a dark almost black lacquered wood, the bedding was also all black. It was a dark room with thick heavy curtains. 

Swinging your legs over the side of the bed you gripped the fourposter frame and stood upright nursing a slight ache behind your temples. 

The floor was a white marble, searingly cold against your feet. You looked down at the sweet emerald négligée, your jewellery was placed on the bedside table. 

Where you saw a glass of water, taking the glass you took a few sips quenching your thirst and pushing the bile rising in your throat back down. 

Crossing the room, trying to find a bathroom you opened the first set of double doors and found a walk-in wardrobe. There were many suits inside and a door caught your eye, perhaps it led to the bathroom. 

Opening the door you saw for the first time in your life real guns and weapons on display, wherever you are it mustn’t be safe. You picked up a small handgun like the ones you had seen in movies. 

You moved on to the bathroom, your bladder was urgently requesting relief. 

Opening the next doors you came across a bathroom like no other. It was all the same white marble, the feature was a round shower located in the middle of the room. With two curved sliding doors one on either side of the shower. 

Between curved glass panels were stone pillars one which had been carved into as to create shelves with built-in product dispensers. 

You saw a control panel on the outside of the shower and you wondered where the water came from but looking up at the hanging gold shower head that was almost as wide as the shower. 

You could imagine how it would feel, like warm rain falling against your skin. On your right as you stepped in was a beautiful counter with his and her basins in front of a finely detailed gold framed mirror. 

On the opposite wall to your left were shelves of fresh towels and a few cabinets and a seated area with a lady might do her makeup

Walking around the shower along the walls of towels you saw the toilet the door was made of frosted glass and you at this point didn’t care if you were quick you wouldn’t be seen. 

You flushed and paused waiting for any signs of people coming to get you but you heard nothing. 

You stepped out and circled the shower the back wall had a brilliant window and four short steps to a lifted square seating area with a cushioned window seat that lined the three of the square walls. 

There was a small coffee table in the middle and continuing on the last corner of the room just between the sitting areas and the counter was a square bath fit for perhaps four people. 

“Shit, where is she?” The sound made your pulse skyrocket, you needed to hide. You stood behind one of the big thick pillars on the outside of the shower. Hoping they would glance over the room. 

You froze the gun behind your back and you waited. “Is she in here?” A voice said, “doesn’t look like it,” another said

“Where is she?” A raspy voice spoke. 

“We don’t know, sir, Yoongi was posted outside and swears she didn’t leave so she has to be in here.” 

“Y/n?” He called, “are you okay, you are a guest here I promise.”

You snorted, “that’s funny, I don’t remember being invited.” 

“You don’t remember what happened last night do you?” He asked and you saw movement in the mirror. You grabbed the shower door and opened it stepping inside and pressing your back against a pillar. 

The problem was opening one door opened both, you used your free hand to reach beside you and slowly close the glass door. 

He smirked, grabbing the opposite glass door with his hand, stopping it from closing and pulling the door back open. “You won’t shoot me, baby, you are too gentle, hand it over and we can talk.”

You took a few heavy breaths psyching yourself up before pulling the trigger. Eyes squeezed shut only to hear a click, “shit!”

“You got some guts, I will give you that. I am proud, the weak don’t survive” He grinned, reaching outside the shower to the control panel and grinned “but you didn’t put a magazine in your gun, I could show you how?” 

He pressed a button and cold water poured down, jolting you awake. You tried to avoid the water but you were soaked, he stepped inside and shut the door with his men standing guard either side. 

“When you shoot a gun don’t close your eyes, baby otherwise how will you aim?” His chest pressed against yours and he grinned, taking your hand. “Now let’s get you dressed, and we can have a late breakfast.”

You struggled to pull your hand free, “why am I here?”

“Because your father borrowed five hundred thousand dollars from me and didn’t pay it back in time,” he gently tucked your wet hair behind your ear frowning at how it stuck to your neck, how the small négligée clung to your skin and how your body reacted to the cold. “So I took you as collateral for my money. How very gentlemanly of you.”

He took the gun from your hand and grinned, “you are spirited and I like that, but do not worry my only intentions are my money no harm will come to you, you are actually really interesting I would like to get to know you more.”

“Come let’s have breakfast baby,” he said over his shoulder

You followed him obediently your goal was to play your way out, cooperation until they let their guard down. Stepping out of the Taehyung standing there with a grin, and he held up a bag, “Hoseok and I bought you clothes?”

You nodded while taking the bag pondering a recurring thought, “who changed me last night?”

“I did, love but do not fret, I am a doctor and I assure you I did nothing inappropriate, while you were asleep. I would never, it’s too much work?” the short black-haired man spoke twirling a knife around his fingers. 

“Seriously, I don’t think Yoongi is human, we have taken him to so many brothels and he doesn’t get turned on at all,” you made eye contact with Yoongi who looked away causing you to crease your eyebrows. 

“I respect women and their professions?” Yoongi sighed, and you nodded thoughtfully walking into the bathroom and staring in the mirror. Eventually getting out of the wet garment and into a beautiful sundress. 

Processing your thoughts meticulously. He said you were here until your father paid his debt. He said he wouldn’t harm you. You had many unanswered questions but you felt a little reassured by these factors. You were still scared out of your wits but 

When you stepped out of the bathroom fully dressed you felt much better. The room was empty except Yoongi and you sighed looking at him. “I really didn’t do anything.” 

“I believe you, do not stress,” you patted his shoulder and with a deep breath in, you puffed up your chest, square your shoulders, and strode forward to the door with a firm nod. Yoongi navigated you through the halls behind you trying to keep up but you didn’t slow down. 

“Through to the end room two double doors,” he panted as you lost him down the hall, throwing the doors open, guns were drawn and all your new found confidence dwindled. 

“Ah, my apologies we usually knock.” Namjoon smiled holding his hands out to his men to stand down, “it’s polite.”

“Is kidnapping me polite?” You scoffed stomping towards him. “You said I am here till my father pays his debt and then I am free to leave correct?”

“Yes, that is—”

“So am I a prisoner?”

“You are a guest,” he said.

“So I can leave?”

“No.”

“Do you happen to know the definition of prisoner?”

“I believe you are referring to the noun of a person captured and kept confined by an enemy or criminal” he sighed “listen would you like to see a real prisoner? I can guarantee you are treated better than some of our other guests in this house”

Taken back by his words you looked away and sighed slumping into the empty seat at the other end of the table “who are you really?”

“I am Kim Namjoon, also known as RM,” he looked down the table at you. You were silent while eating, pondering this information biding your time before you could ask some more. 

“Now for business?” Namjoon gestured for his men to start talking. 

“Uh about mister Lee, I have successfully um… spoken?” The word came out as more of a question as Seokjin side-eyed you, “with him and he told me where we can find the um...”

“Hey, whatever it is you can say it, I’m not going to be scared by mere words.” You scoffed, stabbing a piece of cantaloupe. Namjoon nodded, approving Seokjin to talk freely.

“I interrogated him and we found the children he was trafficking returned them to their families,” Seokjin said “He is seriously sick in the head” 

“You are sure he has told you everything?” Namjoon ate his eggs and toast watching them over his cup of coffee. 

“I think so but to make sure I might cut off his remaining fingers and see what he has to say,” Seokjin nodded, “if he says no more well then I guess he is finished.”

“Hoseok what do you know?” Namjoon prompted the next man to speak.

“I know that Mr. y/l/n is accumulating stocks and seems to be on the way to paying his debt,” Hoseok said, your head snapped to him at the mention of your father and he cleared his throat with an awkward twitch of his head. “In other news, there is a young man named David from America is here to discuss a transaction on weapons”

“Anything else?” Namjoon pressed on, studying the man's reactions.

“A few minor gossip aspects from last nights party” you blinked turning to Hoseok who continued, “nothing serious but I will file it away for possible use in the future”

“I took out Mr Roth last night at the party.” Jimin threw the paper down and Namjoon picked it up. “Easily fooled as always.”

“Was there any complications?” Namjoon asked placing the paper down on the table and you walked around picking it up standing beside Namjoon as you read the information on the front page. 

Mob Merrymaking

On the evening of the 13th of July, Y/N was celebrating her 21st Birthday. The night was full of dancing, gifts and esteemed guests. The night which was intended to be a beautiful celebration turned sour when a Local Gang drugged and abducted the young woman. Mr Roth a nobleman of 45 had been found in the bathroom, his death was determined as substance abuse.

Mr. L/n stated “She will be fine wherever she is, she is a smart girl and too pure to get herself hurt” He further implied “...I also have no ill will towards any gangs that would warrant my daughter being taken or our family getting hurt. She is a beautiful woman and I think he must have taken a liking to her which leaves me to believe he won’t hurt her.”

Kim Industries which deals with Construction, real estate, property investments, restaurants bars and even Casinos are implied to be the gang in question. Kim Namjoon, as the owner of Kim Industries, was happy to oblige to the police investigation allowing his home to be thoroughly searched by police for the missing young woman. The residence came up empty of any incriminating evidence.

Where did the young woman go? Who is she with? If you have any information contact the police.

You were told to wait in the house while they all went to meet this American man named David, you refused saying if they left you alone you would either run away or set the place on fire. 

Namjoon grabbed you by the upper arm, “You are a young lady, start acting like one, we have treated you well and you have done nothing but act like a spoilt child.”

You had never been reprimanded so directly and harshly before, you were somewhat sheltered and sensitive to anger. You turned your head away from him as a few tears slipped.

“Sir, would you like me to stay behind with her?” Jungkook asked, watching his leader take out a pocket-handkerchief and take the young woman's chin firmly between his thumb and crooked finger tilting it up.

“She will come along, she must learn the severity of one's actions and the business we dabble in, to know the true weight of her actions,” He sighed, wiping your eyes. “Always carry a handkerchief Jungkook, women cry.”

“Of course! This way Miss,” Jungkook smiled softly, taking out his notebook to write the newest rule as he walked, “Namjoon is never late for a meeting.”

Escorted to the car as they all checked their weapons discussing their plan of attack, the trip took longer than you expected and at least an hour and a half had passed. The large juice you had at breakfast was making itself known. 

“Uh, I have to pee?” You whispered to Yoongi who frowned patting your knee in consolidation. 

“Namjoon doesn’t stop for anyone,” he sighed, “You will have to hold it,”

“What is it?” Namjoon commanded, not liking the whispering you were doing with his doctor.

“Y/n said she has to pee,” Yoongi said, “and I told her she will have to hold it.”

Namjoon nodded unphased “You should have gone before we left. Always pee before leaving the house.”

“I am not a child,” You hissed “I know when I need to pee and when I don’t, I wasn’t told the duration of this trip, to know whether I should go to the bathroom, and if I remember correctly I was ushered to the car before I had a chance to question it.”

“Keep your emotions out of your argument, you really are starting to sound like a child,” Namjoon said turning back to the conversation, there was nothing you could do.

The car pulled up, at a small furniture store, the men walked in lead by Namjoon and you were to stay outside with Yoongi and Seokjin. 

It was supposed to be a peaceful meeting, but you really had to go to the toilet. The two men were leaning on the back of the car, Yoongi smoking slowly and Seokjin complaining that it was bad for his looks to be near smoke. 

“Then fuck off,” Yoongi growled blowing large wisps of smoke purposefully at the other. The two bickered like a father of three and his bratty child. 

You really needed to go, to the point that you were eyeing a couple of bushes and hedges in the area. You, a high-class lady were contemplating urinating in public, that’s how serious this was. 

You looked at the two bickering again, Yoongi smirked, blowing more smoke at Seokjin who started coughing open-mouthed at Yoongi not bothering to cover his mouth. 

“You're nasty!” Yoongi grumbled, you rolled your eyes and snuck into the shop, there had to be an employee bathroom. 

You found a door but when you opened it you were met with men and guns, you immediately froze, all the muscles in your body tensing up.“Darling come here,” Namjoon said, gesturing you over to his side, and slipping you under his arm. “What are you doing here? I told you to wait by the car?”

“I have to pee,” you whimpered.

“Calm your expression,” he held your cheek and brought your eyes to his, “by my side, you don’t need to be scared, no one can hurt you?”

“That’s right darling we are just having a discussion, do you want to wait outside again we don’t want anything to happen to a pretty girl like you?”

You don’t know who said what but shots we fired and Namjoon pushed you across the room behind some big cabinets. When your back hit the tall boy you felt your bladder relax and you looked down warmth spreading down the inseams of your jeans. 

You were shaking in fear as the shots rang around the room, some hitting the furniture near where you hid. But worse than all that you were embarrassed and shocked never in your teen and adult life had you ever wet yourself. 

You stood sobbing, standing in a puddle of your own liquids. You took off your sneakers throwing them aside and you looked at your clothes. 

“Namjoon, we can’t find Miss Y/n?” Seokjin shouted ducking bullets, and brandishing his own gun. The distraction allowed their enemy to escape. 

“She is here you idiots, I asked you to do one job and you couldn’t even do that?” Namjoon said “Jimin, good shooting, David won’t make it home”

“That’s my job,” Jimin said proudly and you had to pluck up the courage to talk to them, but it was easier to hide climbing into a cupboard. 

“Miss Y/n, are you hurt?” Yoongi asked “huh?”

“What is it?” Namjoon said 

“Oh no darling, I am so sorry?” Yoongi’s voice was solemn. 

“If she is dead I am killing you both,” Namjoon growled his boots hitting the cement as he stomped over. 

“Stay there,” Yoongi said with authority, the footsteps stopped “Jimin take off your pants?”

“What why?” Jimin asked confused as to why the conversation shifted to him and his trousers. 

“Just do it?” Yoongi growled snapping his fingers. 

“None of you will step foot over here until I say so, if you do I will happily sedate you all and turn you into eunuchs, and that includes you Namjoon.”

“I am your leader?”

“And I am your elder, go wait outside, all of you?” They all stepped outside and Yoongi sighed walking to the cupboard holding Jimin’s trousers. 

“Come here darling,” he said, taking your hand and guiding you to the bathroom he told you to strip everything off except your bra. you sobbed. “Don’t worry I got more enjoyment out of seeing Jimin undress than redressing you last night, if you understand what I am saying.”

You realized and wiped your eyes, he pushed you to sit on the bench and he washed your legs in the sink and asked you to wash everything else yourself. 

You felt better, he apologized for not having any underwear for you and you slipped on Jimin's pants and fastened the belt. The last thing you would need is to expose everything and Yoongi gave you his undershirt. 

He walked you out and Namjoon looked relieved when he saw you emerge. “Are you okay?”

“No I am horrified, I was in the middle of a shoot out and I quite literally pissed myself,” you shouted. Your eyes stung from the crying you had done, “Never in my coherent life have I disgraced myself like that.”

“I apologize,” he said, holding his shoulder you saw blood seeping through his fingers, you immediately felt bad for yelling and making it about you when he was in pain.

Jimin stood in just his boxer briefs. “I have nothing against the no-pants but can we go home?”

The only rational thing to do after the incident at the furniture store and warehouse was to seclude yourself in your room away from everyone else. Namjoon often visited and brought you your meals talking to you about things with no real substance. Mostly about his loathing of check ups, it seemed he was hiding in your room from Yoongi.

This happened for a number of days until Hoseok got bored, he wanted to gossip with you and Taehyung came along with paints in hand. His excuse was that you had promised him you two could paint together. 

Forcibly removed from your one-person pity party you sat outside painting and chatting about random topics. 

Hoseok wanted to know if you had any suitors and who they were, he asked what type of guy you liked and you hummed. 

“Someone kind and generous who gives back to others” you gushed about your tall dark and handsome and they laughed.

That night Namjoon knocked on your door and requested you come down for dinner, you agreed much to his surprise. He stammered obviously not expecting you to consent to his plan for dinner, he nodded curtly and walked off down the hall. Tripping in his haste on a small lump in the hall carpet and catching himself on the wall.

Wearing a pretty emerald green halter dress the skirts swished as you walked and your modest heels clicked on the timber. You heard hushed talking and slowed down, being so confined the past few days you were almost starved for conversation. 

“He is having dinner tonight, they will all be in the dining hall which will leave his office free, once I get the information I will get out of here before they find out.” The man had a weird moustache and a mole above his eyebrow. 

You tiptoed past holding your skirts from ruffling and keeping your heels from clicking you headed downstairs. 

Pushing open the doors a multitude of guns were pointed at you, “Miss Y/n I was told you were from a moderately high-class family you should know how to knock.”

You raced over to Namjoon and cupped your hand around your mouth leaning down. “I heard someone talking about breaking into your office, to steal information”

“Jimin” Namjoon beckoned him over, he whispered to Jimin who nodded and went out the back door. 

“Where is he going?” You asked and Namjoon stood up and walked you to the other end of the table and you frowned, “I don’t like this?”

“Sit relax, it is time for us to enjoy dinner.”

You sat for the briefest of moments watching Namjoon cross the room and sit at the opposite end of the table before taking your chair and dragging it across the floor slowly. 

You saw his eyebrow twitch as you did so and stopped beside him. “I would prefer not to shout across the table,” you smiled softly

“You are both a blessing and a curse,” Namjoon said, “dinner is now a minute late”

Dinner was unlike anything you had ever had before, you smiled and ate happily, “this is delicious”

“You should try the steak?” Namjoon smiled, you nodded, cutting some of your chicken and stabbed it with a fork. 

“Alright, I will try some of your steak if you try some of this chicken?” You held it out to him and his eyes were wide “it’s a fair trade”

He leaned forward and ate the small piece off your fork and he cut you a piece of steak and held it out to you. 

You leaned forward and took a bite chewing slowly, your eyes going wide. “That is delicious”

Namjoon leaned over wiping your chin with a napkin his thumb, your eyes were locked in a fierce gaze and he gave you a dimpled smile.

“Jin, try some of my chicken?” Taehyung asked, holding out his fork. 

“No, thank you?” Seokjin said, continuing to eat his steak ignoring the pouting young man. 

“But they shared?” He whined. This made you aware of how intimate your action was, your cheeks flushing dark at your forwardness.

After dinner you were being escorted back to your room. Namjoon was quiet the whole time, not for lack of trying. The amount of times you saw him open and close his mouth, as if he was trying to strike up something to say. 

Standing at your door he paused looking at you searching for something, you laughed opening the door, “Would you like to come in for a drink?” 

He seemed grateful for the excuse to stay in your company, after a drink of two you started talking about your most embarrassing stories. He was actually super clumsy for someone in the mafia and a complete goofball.

“And that was my first kiss, I haven’t really had many kisses after that and the few I can remember were just as bad” Your laughter was cut off by Namjoon who had leaned over on the small couch and pressed his lips to yours. Just as you felt your heart flutter he pulled away.

“It is getting late you should sleep” He stood up and placed down the glass, you walked him to the door and he froze. “Was that okay? I hope I didn’t overstep any boundaries, did I?”

“No it was nice really nice, you can do that-” He pressed his lips to yours once more and smiled whispering good night before walking off down the hall. With a sigh you added “Anytime you like.”

You didn’t hear anything strange from anyone or see anyone but you hoped everything worked out and the man who wanted to steal information ran away. 

You were trying to find Namjoon the next day and travelled downstairs looking in random doors. 

You reached the end of the hallway and found a door you heard screaming and knocked hesitantly on the wood, Yoongi stepped out covered in blood and gun in hand. 

“Oh, y/n now isn’t a good time?” Yoongi said, stepping out and shutting the door. “What are you doing down here?”

“I was looking for Namjoon, is everything okay? What are you doing?” You asked, concerned by the amount of blood on Yoongi’s clothes. 

“We are okay, Seokjin and I are just interrogating the mole, hey good spotting by the way no one knew they had snuck in,” your stomach dropped, this blood was from that man and it was all because of you. 

“Namjoon is in his office on the third floor from the ground west wing double doors on the left-right at the end of the corridor.”

You nodded, froze in place and Yoongi sighed “I have to go back in,” he went to pat your shoulder but saw his stained gloves and sighed ripping them off. 

He turned punching in numbers into the code lock. 7276. He slipped inside and you heard screaming, which was silenced immediately as the door sealed shut, you quickly ran feeling sick.

Racing up the stairs and bumping into Jungkook and almost falling, thankfully  he caught you, “hey hey, slow down what’s wrong?”

You were wide-eyed and scared and he frowned. “Did you go downstairs?”

You nodded and he led you down the hall, “you are scared and helpless, but the way to feel better is to get stronger. You won’t feel as scared if you're not so helpless.” Jungkook opened the doors to the gym. 

“Let me teach you how to fight,” Jungkook began teaching the basics and at another point, Jimin entered the two gave you pointers, their fighting styles. Jungkook was all power and strength and Jimin’s was survival. 

“Look all you got to know is how to break free so you can run away,” Jimin instructed. “Even someone like Yoongi can break out of Jungkook's grasp.” 

“That was one time and he refused to give me a rematch,” Jungkook wined. 

You were learning so much, and it was in a sense a little empowering. The two guys were good at what they did and the more you learnt the more you wanted to learn. 

Learning to fight gave you something to take your mind off what you had seen at least for the first two weeks but when you heard them relay information at breakfast you felt sick once more. 

“He refuses to speak,” Seokjin said 

“He will eventually,” Namjoon didn’t bat an eyelash. Two weeks of torture because you outed him. 

This was all your fault. He was suffering because of you. You left the dining hall unable to stomach the thought of food. 

Heading down the stairs you opened the door with the code 7276, you almost vomited, he sat there unrestrained and unconscious. His fingernails were removed and his face broken beyond repair. 

“Hello, sir are you alive?” You asked, he groaned struggling to move his head, coughing up some blood at the effort it took to move. 

“Who are you?”

“I am no one sir,” you breathed, “I can help you.”

He lunged hands gripping your throat and you fell back under the weight of him, you were struggling against him in panic. “Die you bitch, I know who you are, you're that monster's whore. He has never tried to protect anyone in his life and yet his soft spot is you. They are coming to kill you all.”

You struggled less hearing Jimin’s words in your head, “don’t panic” his voice would smooth as he held you in this position. “You want to panic but relax and fight back”

You did what he said, “your legs are your strongest so kick them in the chest” Jungkook would coach from the side, following their instructions you kicked the man off and ducked out the door pulling it closed. 

You were gasping and you ran up the stairs and into the dining hall gasping. Namjoon flew to his seat and scooped you up, sitting you on the side of the table. 

“Yoongi.” He commanded, he gently brushed his fingers over your neck, he looked upset, angry and sad all at once. The emotions were so strong it shocked you. Grabbing his gun, you pressed it into Namjoon's hands. 

“Kill him,” You wheezed, “slowly.”

“You went back down there didn’t you?” Jungkook sighed and before Yoongi could stop him Namjoon cocked the gun and stormed off. Seokjin followed after him and they all watched you trying to help. 

“Your throat will sting for a few days try not to talk it will help it heal,” Yoongi sighed 

“You just don’t want to hear me talk,” you joked, wincing at the pain. “Got it, no talking.”

Namjoon threw the man into the dining hall and dragged him by his hair across the floor, “the lady has requested you die and slowly.” 

Namjoon shot him six times in both legs, one in each foot, calf and thigh, the blood was pooling everywhere. You felt queasy, you wanted this but you weren’t sure you could stomach it. 

“If you can make it back to your people with these wounds I will let you go?” Namjoon put his gun away and the man tried to crawl away, losing strength as he streaked blood across the ground. 

The man was making horrible noises and you didn’t like it, covering your ears and Yoongi warned Namjoon who shot the mole in the back of the head as he reached for the door handle. 

Again the only thing you deemed appropriate after witnessing that sort of horrific event was to seclude yourself in your room. Yoongi visited bringing you soups to soothe your sore throat and his persistence and gentle nature was the only thing that got you to drink some of it.

You laid there alone when it started to rain. You loved the rain, but what surprised you was your new fear of the thunder rumbling in the distance sinister as if it was coming after you. 

You had never been afraid of storms you used to stand out on the patio undercover with your father and watch the lights flash and feel the electricity in the air. But now each flash had shadows in your window and was accompanied by gunshots that shook the ground.

You were a whimpering mess and you wanted to get out, you ran from your room and raced down the stairs and out the front door. You were in the rain running down the long estate driveway and you expected to be followed by Namjoons henchmen and dragged back and punished for what you didn’t expect was for Namjoon to be running after you. 

He grabbed you and pulled you to his chest hugging you gently and he started to sing in your ear, his voice was low and soothing. You found yourself easing into his chest and your erratic sobbing calmed some.

Forever Rain, Forever Rain, Forever Rain, Forever Rain, Forever Rain,

He repeated this phrase slowly singing into your ear holding you desperately and before you knew it, you passed out in his arms.

Namjoon was sweet, you woke up beside him, you were dressed in a button-up and nothing more and he was in his trousers that looked damp, he was sleeping above the blankets holding your hand as if he hadn’t intended to fall asleep beside you but to watch over you.

You brushed his hair off of his face and covered him with a blanket before heading to his closet, taking out some sweatpants and a plain white shirt. He stirred awake when you emerged from the walk-in closet. 

“Good morning,” You said softly

“You haven’t obtained any of my weapons while I was sleeping have you?” He asked, making you laugh behind your hand.

“No, someone hasn’t taught me how to use a gun properly, something about a magazine?” you said, trying to play coy. Namjoon laughed getting out of bed and taking your hand, dragging you into the closet and he began explaining all about guns and you listened he had all these amazing facts from when they were made to how they were made and how they fired and how far.

He demonstrated how to put ammunition into the magazine and the magazine into the gun. He taught you how to take the safety on and off and how to hold the gun being new so as not to accidentally shoot anyone. 

He led you to the balcony and smiled telling you to hold the gun and he corrected your stance and hold and he told you to aim at a tree and you did. 

“Now shoot?” He smiled encouragingly. You turned to him shocked, starting to protest that you weren’t ready. 

“You are just scared I promise nothing will happen?” He smiled talking you through it all again. 

He didn’t rush you and he didn’t laugh, he spoke the whole time about what you would like for breakfast. You fired a shot and bumped into Namjoon, he chuckled, “that was a good start. Did you close your eyes? Try again.”

It took a few goes and the boys busting in the room before you were comfortable with the weapon. Each had pointers and you felt empowered once more. 

“I can make you a pretty handgun,” Taehyung smiled and the group went to breakfast. 

“We have a meeting today, so dress pretty, it’s a good meeting, nothing scary, I think you will like it.” Namjoon smiled, making you nod and run off to get dressed. 

“Something Christmassy!” Taehyung shouted. 

This wasn’t what you expected when you heard mafia, usually you would think things like guns and drugs and women and violence and sure some of those things were true. 

But giving Christmas presents to an orphanage full of children wasn’t what you had in mind. You took a present and handed it out, “are you mister Kim’s wife now?”

You giggled at the children’s naive question and began thinking about what it would be like if you really were Namjoon’s wife. 

“Well, he hasn’t asked me so, no,” you laughed with the children some of the teens heard and began teasing Namjoon. 

“Why haven’t you asked her yet she is so pretty?” They said, “I would ask her.”

“Namjoon is shy, underneath the suit he is just a boy with dimples” Jimin teased earning a wad of wrapping paper at his head from the man in question. You had stepped outside into the snow watching it fall around you, Namjoon was eyeing you through the small glass window.

Excusing himself Namjoon left the children and headed out into the snowy garden, he shrugged off his jacket as he approached and slipped it over your shoulders. Clearing his throat “you shouldn’t be out here, you might catch a cold”

“Not with you here” You elbowed him playfully, he chuckled allowing you to lean against him, he didn’t tell you he was cold but dutifully stood there and kept you company.

“Thank you so much,” The woman said, as you all stepped out the front door, the boys all headed to the car and you were left beside Namjoon who had left his arm around your waist leading you to the car. “For the presents and the donation, the children and I truly appreciate it.”

“Y/n?” Namjoon said as you walked into the dining room to find it empty, the food was set and there were candles. “I wanted to speak with you privately.”

“Okay, what did you want to talk about?” You asked curiously, what was so important that his men whom he confided everything in were not present.

“Since I met you, I have broken so many of my rules, I have been late, I have forgotten what I have wanted to say, I have spoken without purpose, I have even broken the rule to keep speeches short and sweet.” He laughed rubbing the back of the neck. “I have enjoyed your company greatly and you have made me a better man because of it. Ever since I met you, I was enraptured by your brains and beauty. You are fiery and sassy and kind and real.”

“Thank you, I haven’t done that much though.” You weren’t being modest, you hadn’t done anything special to warrant his compliments.

“I wanted to ask if you would do me the greatest honour of marrying me?” He said, “I will keep you safe, you will never go hungry or cold, I will cherish you with every fibre of my being.”

“Yes,” You said in shock, you liked him of course, you had for a while now but the fact that he could get anyone and he chose you. That was what shocked you, you weren’t on the same status level. He was very high class and you were scrapping the lower end of high class.

The celebration was to be held at the grand hotel, the hall was booked and looking spectacular you were announcing your engagement. It was a real lavish affair and you were in the most expensive gown you had ever seen, feeling like a million dollars and wearing a million and a half.

It was all real, the shoes, jewelry, hotel, engagement and you couldn’t believe it. “Is this a dream?” the stylist shook her head.

You were trying to wonder where it had all come together; it was little gestures and actions. When the two of you met and he was charming and poise when dancing with you. The more you got to know him he was meticulous and sassy and strict, he didn’t miss a chance to correct and reprimand you. 

Somewhere along your journey he started to enjoy your company, he became more clumsy, and open to new ideas. He took a chance and started approaching you with his feelings and what blossomed between you was love.

“My lady, if you are ready follow us to take some photos with your fiance on the rooftop.” You were shaken out of your daydream and guided to the elevator headed for the rooftop, the two men were talking into headsets, “Everything is secure” The man said straight-faced, and the other man helped you hold the small train of your dress.

When you stepped out the men guided you across the rooftop and told you to sit in the chair while the cameraman finished setting up. You sat drinking, you only got a short way through it before you fell asleep.

Waking it was dark, you were strapped to the chair and there was something heavy and bulky on your chest. Eyes adjusting to see the glowing numbers on your chest. You started to cry, something was wrong and almost an hour went by before, you heard someone shouting your name.

“Y/N!” it was Jimin.

“Jimin!” You shouted and he raced over to the door but you heard the clanking of chains. You were locked in. 

“Wait here, I will get the others and something to get you out.” He was gone before you could tell him.

You heard more voices and Namjoon came over, you had ten minutes written on the digital clock on your chest, the numbers flickering down consistently. “Y/N?” Namjoon said, “Don’t worry, we will get you out?”

“Namjoon,” You cried from the seat, sobs breaking through your words, “There is a bomb.”

“Where is the bomb?” Namjoon said 

“It’s here,” Hot tears falling from your eyes stinging, “It���s on me, there is only nine minutes left.”

He swore, “Break this door down now, find another way in?”

They all began struggling and trying their best, but you knew it was useless. Namjoon, go, take everyone and go, there isn’t enough time?”

“No!” Namjoon growled smashing his fists on the door and throwing his shoulder into it, “I will get you out of it.”

“Namjoon, send the boys away don’t get them hurt because of me?” You whispered, “Go!”

“Leave us,” Namjoon said, his voice defeated.

“We won’t leave without you both?” Jungkook said, the timer said three minutes and you wanted to scream at them to go but the sobs took everything out of you.

“A man will follow orders to the letter Jungkook.” Namjoon said, sending the younger man away, “Get out of here.”

“Yeah rule number twenty-two, but what about number thirty-three take a challenge or thirty-nine finish what you start.”

“Jungkook, leave now before I shoot you, your orders are to get everyone out of the building, we will be down soon.”

Jungkook hesitated before running off. You called out to Namjoon begging him to leave but he refused continuing to try to break down the door blinking away the blur in your eyes from the tears you saw the time had only a minute left.

“Namjoon, there is only a minute left, please leave.” You pleaded and you could hear him on the other side of the door. 

“I am not leaving you,” He sniffed, voice watery and shaking with the sounds of his sobs. He broke the number one rule.

[Part 2]

If you enjoyed it don’t forget to Like | Reblog so others can enjoy it too.

[dragonrajafanfiction]

Genji Heavy Industries (Part 9) Majesty

Chisei simps come and get your FOOD Come and get your FOOD.

The female Deadpool is panting. Her tongue flops over her extended mandible like a dead thing. She lies on the floor unable to lift her head. Her hair lies around her face like a dark shaggy curtain. But still she reaches out and swats a red dot. She’d pursued this red thing through the hall, jealousy preventing her from letting any other curious ones from claiming her prize. And yet she still didn’t have it.

Her claw lands on the red dot and it appears on top of her hand. She tries again, still failing to capture the red dot.

But before she could let out a hiss of frustration, a gentle touch fell on her head. She didn’t notice the human walking up to her as she was focused on the red dot. Her muscles twitch but before she can turn around and strike at the attacker, the touch turns into a massage on her scalp.

MC, you remember how it felt to be gently and lovingly caressed like this. The Female Deadpool made a significant dent in the numbers of beasts in the room and you felt she deserved a small reward. Like you, she was born to be a killer and had no affection shown to her in life. So you figured affection would be a nice thing to feel in her last moments. She makes a little noise, almost like a whimper and her jaw drops as she stares, vision focusing beyond the red dot now.

You press the muzzle of the mercury core pistol against the back of her head and pull the trigger. For the deadpool, it was a flash of light and oblivion. The beast falls flat, the pattern of her black blood making a fountain shape that extends out from her head.

Your laughter fades back into a cold sort of boredom. “That was fun, while it lasted.” 

You step over her body and shoot down at her hand, neatly severing the nearly foot long serrated sickle shaped claw. You pick it up.

Caesar strafed as he advanced, closing in on the  shaded wall in the center of the hall, with Deadpool gathering on all sides. In their eyes, he and Zihang were like two dishes that were ascending to the table on their own. .A Deadpool approached Caesar from the side while Caesar's fire was focusing on the front. Caesar did not even turn his gaze. Chu Zihang dashed up with a bayonet and stabbed it. The Deadpool closed its hands to block. The gun went through its palm bone. Not only did not have a painful reaction but fiercely closed his hands to hold the gun’s muzzle. Chu Zihang leaned down and charged, forcing Deadpool back with his gun, when Caesar pulled out the Colt pistol that was etched with the words "Western Watch" from his waist. 

Western Watch fired like a thunderstorm, large-caliber bullets landing accurately into the abdomen of the deadpool, and then they exploded. The splash of mercury inside the bullets was heated by gunpowder, and the air filled with mercury vapor. The scales of the monsters who were splashed by the mercury became pale and then fell off, and a greenish-white mercury scar appeared on their skin. 

"Wow! The Japanese weaponry looks more useful than the Academy's mercury core bomb!" Caesar was quite surprised. 

Chu Zihang nailed the Deadpool to a column with the enhanced crossbow through the hole Caesar punched through its abdomen. The mercury was eroding its body at high speed. The bayonet penetrated its chest, but it still hissed and lunged at Chu Zihang, letting the whole gun barrel pass through its chest until the barrel was covered with thick black blood. Chu Zihang pulled the bag on his shoulder, and a bundle of swords fell at his feet. He grabbed a hilt in his hand and stabbed straight through the chest to cut off the spine of the monster. The nervous system is the weak point. After the destruction of the spine, it was finally powerless and could only hang there. Chu Zihang sheathed the blade waist, then drew a shotgun and returned to stand back to back with Caesar.

He turns to you. “MC! Come closer!”

Although you felt fine on your own, military discipline was too ingrained for you not to immediately obey your Senior Brother.

As soon as you turn to hurry, you’re cut off by a tall man-shaped serpent. His coil surrounds you, a foot and a half high of pure muscle, intending to keep you from running away and corral you into his strike zone. But this stupid creature didn’t understand that you weren’t a rabbit to run away from a serpent.

In the story of Rikki-Tikki-Tavi, Rudyard Kipling explains, “If you read the old books of natural history you will find that they say that when the mongoose fights the snake and happens to get bitten, he runs off and eats some herb that cures him. That is not true. The victory is only a matter of the quickness of eye and quickness of foot, - the snake's blow against the mongoose's jump, - and, as no eye can follow the motion of a snake's head when it strikes, that makes things more amazing than any magic herb.”

The golden snake-like beast lunges at you and you jump to the side, landing on its massive coil while raising your gun. The strike brought the snake man’s head in line with the barrel just as you fired. But this all seemed to happen in an instant of time. 

To observers, the snake lunged and you jumped at the same time as you shot. And then you kept shooting in quick succession. You couldn’t kill the beast with your puny pistol, but the power was enough to act like a punch or a kick and you used it that way, using bullets as a fist slamming into its jaw. It recovered, shaking the ringing from its head, but you weren’t in front of it.

Snk-snk-snk.

The claw of the dead female deadpool was sharp enough and hard enough not to need the assistance of mercury. With it, you severed the beast's cervical, thoracic and lumbar spine. The creature sat back on its coil but it could no longer move at all.

You hurry to Ceasar and Chu Zihang and they stand in front of you.

Caesar emptied the six mercury bursts in the Western Watch. The smoke of refined mercury filled the hall. The fire driven wind intensified the speed of the spread of smoke. The Deadpool instinctively feared this smoke, and, for a time, did not dare to approach you. Caesar took the opportunity to do suppression fire with submachine guns.

You approached the center of the hall step by step, hundreds of deadpool around you. Their baby-like cries echoed in all directions. Countless pale human faces emerged in the firelight. Some are old and some are young. Some faces have been distorted and deformed. Some faces can still remind people you may have met in the street passing by. There are shy teenagers and mature women, but when their skulls open to reveal thorny sharp teeth, they all turn into evil spirits. 

"We're like rats breaking into a snake breeding ball with leather slingshots in our hands." Caesar discarded the Sten submachine gun in his hand and also drew his Winchester shotgun. 

You glance up at him and smile. You hadn’t smiled this much since you met. You want to tell him to speak for himself. Caesar was trying to use strength and force to kill these beasts, but his strength and his force were barely enough. The best way to fight these creatures was with speed and with wits.

But military discipline in battle requires absolute reverence for authority. “Yes but you are the pretty blond rat, and Chu Zihang is the scary black rat and I’m the cute one.” You feel a slight pain in your chest. “I miss Lu Mingfei… He would have been a funny rat.”

“I’m sure he’s fine. Let’s just focus on getting out of here.” Caesar shakes his head in amazement at your response.  Chu Zihang shoves one of the submachine guns in your hand and you scarcely resist pouting. You didn’t want it.

In the center of the hall, the strongest Deadpool is devouring the dead. It is more than twice the size of the other Deadpool. Since the beginning, It has not joined the attack on you. It is single-mindedly dealing with the meal in front of it, first vomiting out slime to lubricate the corpse, and then slowly devouring it with large audible gulps like a snake. It seems that the group has a hierarchy like a herd of animals. The strongest deadpool are like the head wolf dominating the freshest bloody food. Others dare not share food with it. Otherwise they might end up swallowed with their companions. It was closest to Caesar and looked like a middle-aged balding man. He may have been a middle-aged balding man in life, but no one could have imagined that he could have such a large body after dragonization. His bloated belly wriggled against the ground. His swollen head and neck jiggled as it moved.

It turned its head to the three of you with what appeared to be a smiling expression, saliva dripping down. This was not the first time  a Deadpool had shown an expression that approximated a smile, and it looked like it was expressing joy at the sight of food. The group of Deadpool had driven you to the center of the hall to let the strongest Deadpool feed first. 

This is why Chu Zihang had given you the machine gun. There was no way the claw you were using as a dagger could penetrate this boss-monster’s fatty layer. You tuck it into your belt.

Caesar’s Winchester shotgun spewed out a dense stream of sparks, and the middle-aged balding man version of Deadpool was blasted in the face. Its upper body tilted back as if broken. Its bloated belly is still sitting on the floor. 

"Baldness and bloating like this is also something I do not like!" Caesar yelled. 

“I was thinking more of the disgusting vomit and macrophagy but… sure yeah… Ew, a fatty.” You mutter.

The vast majority of people would have fainted in fear in the face of the Deadpool's slight smile, but it was facing the thugs out of Cassell College. Chu Zihang drew his Sten submachine gun and expressionlessly sent  the dense bullets to punch a bloody hole in that Deadpool's snake belly. You frown at yourself. There was no point in mindlessly firing at such a bullet sponge.

The bloated death servitor slowly sat up, like a sleeping human bending down to get up. Its bloated belly squirmed and boiled inside, and its body grew taller. It was only a man tall when it moved with its belly against the ground, but now it had reared up and transformed into a three-meter-tall giant, not counting the tail coiled on the ground. The tiny human body on the magnificent snake looked so incongruous, like a pregnant mother mantis. 

Chu Zihang takes two swords and slowly stretches his arms forward. There is no road ahead. This is your last battlefield. All the deadpool follow their chief and also "stand". Strong tails support the sturdy upper bodies as they rear up like cobras, their height ranging from two to three meters. All around you, these trembling snake bodies are like a fleshy forest.

“Whale.” You say to yourself. Only a long harpoon could penetrate all that flesh to get to the tender parts inside but you didn’t have anything like that and the way back to the weaponry room was completely cut off.

A black shadow descended like a diving eagle and landed along the back of the chief of the deadpool with the light of a clear blue blade! Chisei Gen brought his full force down onto his twinblades, Onimaru and Dojigiri, sank them in completely, almost to the hilt, and cut the chief of the beasts from the back of the neck along its spine in a long bloody line. He violently twisted his hands and a piece of vertebrae cracked. The monster deadpool’s entire spine collapsed section by section to the floor. Chisei landed in a crouch, then he spun, Onimaru in his right hand, slicing in a flat rotating swing parallel to the ground that cut off the deadpool’s tail. The huge body completely lost support, tilted and fell forward toward Chisei. Chisei dodged sideways, still cutting at the massive beast with twin swords.

Chisei Gen had your speed and wit, but he also had strength that you didn’t have. You stared, face blank. Your eyes following this gorgeous and effortless blade dance. You sigh, eyes wide. “Woah.”

The leader of the deadpool was dead before he hit the ground. It was breathtakingly beautiful to you and you shoved your machine gun back into Caesar’s carry bag without saying a word or even looking at him. You drew your knife and ran forward leaving the two men who had been your companions for weeks. It was as if you had suddenly switched sides in the middle of the fight!

Chisei was still wearing the clothes from the document room, though his trench coat was gone. His upright and muscular body is wrapped in a bloody torn dress shirt, black slacks and leather shoes. He turns that body as you approach and you see his face in profile. It was delicate and feminine, with skin that was not quite pale, just like Z’s. A dark drop of black blood makes a tear like trail down his face. His mouth is moving, teeth flashing slightly behind pale lips, speaking a chilling series of forbidden words. The winds change and stir his dark hair as his eyes slowly blaze gold. You stop and freeze in place. Chu Zihang and Caesar are still firing their guns but Chisei is no longer moving.

The field of the wind expanded slowly, seemingly gently, with a faint violet fluorescence at the borders. The Deadpool in the field prostrated themselves on the ground with fear and trembling. Their hands pressed spasmodically to the ground, black tears of blood flowing from their eyes. 

Chu Zihang and Caesar were shocked. They couldn't feel any difference, but the group of deadpool seemed to be sensitized.  They knelt down to Chisei, like a defeated general facing a victorious king. The field eventually covered the whole mural hall. Chisei walked into the group of monsters with the Dojigiri and Onimaru, waving his sword along the way to cut off the head of one deadpool after another, advancing like a lawn mower. Black fountains of blood burst from their necks. The effect of Gen Chisei’s Yanling is surprisingly to make the enemy willingly accept the killing. 

He glanced back at you briefly and you find your wits again. It was if he were leading you. You bounced after him like a young wolf, joining in the bloodshed with your knife, stacking up bodies in his wake, like a young chick following the example of a mighty eagle parent.

"Shit! Is this mind control?" Caesar muttered. 

"No, it's not mind control, look underneath the bodies of those monsters!" Chu Zihang said. 

The marble floor is slowly cracking, which means there is an amazing weight pressing on the ground. What kind of weight can crack the marble floor? A few tons or a dozen tons? What does it feel like for bones to bear this super-gravity? 

You understood that these beasts were not willingly allowing you to slit their throats, but they could not resist. Their weight increased dozens of times in an instant, so heavy that it was difficult to even lift their arms. If they didn’t lie down, their vertebrae would be crushed. 

Speech Spirit - Majesty, serial number 91, belongs to that category of speech spirits that have surpassed the scope of human understanding.

It was a Speech Spirit much like your own. 

[wannabe-fic-writer]

Natasha Romanoff x Reader : Escape

Summary: The Red Room haunts you, from the moment you stepped foot inside to long after you’ve left. Truth is, you don’t think there is any escaping it.

Warnings: 18+ Violence, Depression, Mentions of Death, Smut

Chapter 15

******

Silence settles over the building. Aside from the pained breaths escaping Bruce’s lips no one makes a sound.

After the stones had been set in the gauntlet, and there was a brief discrepancy over who would snap, Bruce decided to do it. Despite it being painful, he’d still managed to do it. Now you all wait for some sign of it having worked.

You feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

It’s the faintest sound but you recognize it, birds chirping. Scott walks over to the window. 

Natasha’s hand squeezes yours when a trill ring sounds. All eyes snap to the plastic device ringing on a nearby table.

Moving like a snail, Clint inches towards his cell phone. Tears spring into his eyes immediately and he scoops it up.

“Honey? Honey?” 

A smile breaks across you face. Natasha throws herself into your arms kissing your lips repeatedly. 

“Guys! I think it worked.” Scott calls.

But the joy is short lived. For you before anyone else.

Rushing wind. You listen closer. An aircraft of some sort? It gets louder.

You panic and quickly press the Black Widow symbol on your wife’s belt, just barely watching the black nanotech cover her body.

A weight presses on to your left arm. Pain bursts through your ribs. Water drips on your forehead.

When your eyes snap open there’s nothing but darkness, minus the sparking of electricity coming from your wrist. Cursing, you tap the band and almost jump when the nanotech suddenly spreads from the bands and over your body.

The dark toned suit covers you and gives you the additional strength to un-wedge your arm from the rubble.

You roll your shoulders, adjusting to the additional armor.

Tony was right, an iron suit would come in handy.

Suddenly you remember.

“Tasha!” You exclaim into your comms.“ Natasha answer me! Is anyone with Natasha?”

Assist finally boots up and you frantically search for Natasha’s vitals through the A.I.

“Tasha, baby, please tell me you’re okay.” 

Under different circumstances you wouldn’t have wanted everyone on the comms to hear your panic and distress. But this is your wife, you don’t give a single damn who hears if it means making sure she’s okay.

Just as your blasting through another wall of rubble, you hear the static in your ear, followed by her voice.

“Y/N, I’m-” she breaks up,“ I’m okay.”

“Where are you?” You ask, eyes searching the opening you stumble into.

Assist finally displays her vitals. Her heart rate is a little high but you expect nothing less. On a whim, as you hadn’t designed it for this, you ask Assist to find vitals on the baby. 

It’s highly possible it won’t work. 

So you’re breathing a sigh of relief when Assist displays the babies heart beat. They’re still alive and until an actual check up can be made that’s enough.

“I don’t know, but I’m with Clint.” Natasha answers after a minute.

Hearing that calms you. At least a little.

Still, you won’t truly settle until you see her, until you have her in your arms.

The three of you aren’t the only ones trapped. Eventually you hear Rhodey’s distress call, he’s under here somewhere in danger of drowning. 

You move as quickly as possible, searching for wherever Rhodey is. He’s with Rocket and Bruce. As you search, you catch bits and pieces of Tony, Steve, and Thor’s voices. 

A broken statement from Thor, of killing someone, comes through and you’re filled with dread. 

Thanos. 

It has to be. But how?

Everything that’s happening confuses the hell out of you. It’s clear that Tony, Steve, and Thor are fighting Thanos. Rhodey, Rocket, and Bruce are taking on water but Scott says he’s there. You’ve yet to hear from Clint or Natasha again, sans some unidentifiable grunting. 

You know you’ve reached Rhodey’s location when you step into knee deep water. 

Not wasting a second, you go under the water. It’s easy to find Rhodey and Rocket, they’re holding their breaths but struggling to get free. Swimming over, you lift the bits of rubble that have Rhodey pinned down before grabbing him and Rocket and bringing them to the small space you’d come from.

You dive back under in search of Bruce. 

Whatever is happening above is making the rubble down here fall faster. 

Finally you reach him. Despite the suit it’s still difficult to get the large man to the surface. But you manage to.

“Tha-thank you.” Bruce speaks through water filled coughs and deep breaths.

Simply nodding, you survey your surroundings. Assist lets you know that there’s a thick layer of debris above you. Too large a shift will result in your inevitable demise. 

“Guys we’re trapped down here. There’s too much rubble above us for me to break through.” You speak into the comms.

More static hits your ears and you know you’re too far under to get the signal to anyone above.

Just as you’re about to give up, a rapidly growing Ant-Man emerges from under the water. He scoops you all into his hand and bursts through the wreckage of the compound. 

As you rise, a big blue and red metal capsule flies over. It breaks apart before forming around Rhodey’s body. A suit.

Looking down you take in the many light circled portals. Familiar faces stand outside of them, the people you’d fought beside in Wakanda five years ago. Others you’ve never met. 

Scott lowers you to the ground and you jump out of his hand. A glance to your side reveals your wife, clad in her own black iron suit, and her best friend. 

War cries sound behind you. 

“AVENGERS!”

Everyone turns to face Thanos and his large army. You quickly produce two standard pistols. 

“Assemble!”

When you fight this time it’s harder than the last. Determination to beat Thanos drives each move you make. Every time you take down one of the many aliens, you feel as if you’re getting stronger.

The first time Thanos came you were solely motivated by protecting the universe. Now though, now you fight for your family, you fight for your wife and unborn child. You fight for the future that is so close you could taste it.

A groan falls from your lips at how many of these creatures there are. Ones you remember from Wakanda and new ones as well. 

Managing to clear the enemies in your immediate area, you pause to take a breather.

“Don’t tell me you’re getting tired lyubov moya.”

Natasha stops beside you, the mask of her suit disappearing to reveal her face. Apart from some dirt she looks fine.

“We both know I have stamina for days baby.” You retort cockily, also revealing your face.

Before you can see the flush of her cheeks, her mask reforms. 

“You two should really learn how to read a room.” Sam’s input in your conversation makes you laugh.

A smirk clear on your face, you shrug, speaking a noncommittal sorry into the comms before resuming the fight.

The fighting seems to last hours with no clear view of who’s to win. It all shifts though when Clint asks Steve what to do with the gauntlet.

Steve is unsure at first. The original plan was to return them after the snap but the bombing destroyed the portal. Scott is quick to remind you all of his van.

Except it’s in the middle of the sea of Thanos’ army. So everyone begins to work together to get the gauntlet to the van.

It literally becomes a game of hot potato. The gauntlet is passed through multiple sets of hands. Even getting from the King’s hands to yours to Peter’s.

Faintly through the comms you hear the gruff shout of the mad titan, but you have no clue what he said. It becomes clear though when his ships start to fire relentlessly.

Being completely out in the open, you scramble to find cover. Only for your wife to appear at you side. She throws her arm up, the shield from her suit covering the top of you both.

No, you hadn’t put the shield interface in your suit. You hadn’t had the time.

The blasts do more damage to Thanos’ army than it does to your side. He’s thinned his army by an enormous amount but doesn’t let up firing. That is until it suddenly stops. 

Everyone looks on as the ships aim to the sky.

A literal ball of fire shoots through the clouds. Crashing through the biggest ship and completely disabling it.

The second you recognize it as Carol you smile wide. Not just at seeing your friend but also at the obvious shift in the battle. It finally seems as though you have a chance.

Now to get those stones to the portal.

Both you and Natasha head toward where Carol landed, arriving to see Peter Parker handing her the gauntlet. 

“I don't know how you're gonna get it through all that.” The kid states, looking from the advancing wave of enemies to Carol. 

Wanda lands right behind the space traveling woman,“ don't worry-”

“She's not alone.” Your wife finishes.

Wanda smiles over at Natasha. Every woman apart of the battle assumes a spot around Carol, readying their weapons.

“Is it just me, or do you ladies feel insanely powerful right about now?” You ask, smiling approvingly at the female power surrounding you.

Pepper chuckles and Carol agrees.

From there each of you kick as much ass as possible to clear the way for Carol.

Natasha, Valkyrie, Wanda, and Pepper handle covering the air. They take down the giant flying creatures while also shooting at enemies on the ground. 

Despite trying to stick close to Carol, you end up getting caught in an onslaught of ape like aliens and the creatures from Wakanda. 

It takes a minute but you are able to take them all out. Chest heaving, your eyes snap over the field, lingering on the battles being had, and focusing on the most important part of everything.

Carol speeds through ships and enemies toward the van. From your position you see Thanos charging at her, only to be stopped by Tony, Pepper, and Rhodey. 

He stumbles back, but doesn’t lose focus of Carol and the gauntlet. You watch as he throws his weapon toward the van and you blast it with a repulsor beam that is milliseconds from missing but hits it’s target.

The sword is knocked off course, flying in the opposite direction as Carol gets the gauntlet to the van.

Pure euphoria spreads through your chest as she hands the gauntlet off to Scott before he and Hope vanish into the quantum realm.

Thanos rages, concentration switching from you to Carol, essentially locking on to you, the reason he’s failed.

“Uh, angry titan, angry titan!” You exclaim into the comms, shooting a repulsor beam at the giant, pistols forgotten all together.

It knocks him back, but only a little. You look around for a possible plan of action, only to stop short when the problem is resolved.

A lightening covered axe sails towards you, cleanly slicing through the neck of the titan, stopping inches from your form, and then returning to the hands of the god.

Beheaded, the titan’s body falls to the ground. The so called children of Thanos have long since been dealt with, leaving the few seemingly mindless creatures behind. But they’re quickly being dealt with.

Still you hold your breath, eyes falling to the ugly brown van stuck in rubble.

The quantum tunnel still pulses with light and you watch it closely. Only to mentally fist pump when Scott and Hope reappear in front of it, empty gauntlet in hand.

With the mad titan dealt with and the stones returned, the threat to the universe vanishes. Everyone deals with the remaining aliens until the field is littered with their bodies and rubble from destroyed ships.

Yet you don’t breathe easy. Instead you look all over the field, panning over superheroes and warriors, familiar faces meet your eyes but not the one your looking for.

Next you search the ground. Maybe she’s just unconscious or underneath a bit of rubble. But nothing.

Dread floods your system, thoughts whip through your head as you process that she’s nowhere to be seen. She can’t possibly be gone. You’d done everything you could to ensure you didn’t lose her.

What could’ve possibly gotten through the suit? How had you managed to screw that up?

Tony and Pepper, in each other’s embrace, look over to you. Their concerned gazes grabs Steve’s attention who looks at you as well. The lack of your wife’s presence beside you has them searching the field as well.

Your vision starts to blur, panic blinding you to whatever they start to say.

You quite literally start to crumble in on yourself, until you feel the soft hands on each side of your face, a familiar warmth accompanying them, but you struggle to focus on her.

“Breathe lyubov moya.” Her sultry voice slips into your ears and soothes your mind.

She strokes your cheeks with her thumbs, coaxing you into security.

With her whisper of “I’m okay” you’re finally breathing properly. Blinking back unshed tears, you pull her into your embrace. Your suits clink together but you couldn’t care less.

Instinct has her face resting in the crook of your neck, warm breath fighting the sudden chilly wind. You kiss her neck, just above the retracted metal of her iron suit.

You remain in her embrace for a moment longer, needing the assurance and grounding. After pulling away, you can’t help but smile at the sight of everyone that you’d watched disappear five years ago, plus the additional faces of the people you’d yet to meet.

A nonverbal agreement is made to reconvene to celebrate at a later time, when things have settled, and you all aren’t standing in a crater moments from flooding.

Hand in hand with Natasha, you exit the hole in the ground. 

“Please tell me you’re taking me home.” 

Getting a good look at your wife, you see the adrenaline slipping away and revealing her exhaustion. She’s still incredibly gorgeous behind the thing layer of dirt on her face and minor cuts.

How she managed to get cuts on her face through the mask is unbeknownst to you, but you’re determined to make sure she’s taken care of.

“Hospital first, home second.”

She gives a tired sigh, but agrees nonetheless.

Knowing they may not have anywhere to go, you offer the keys to your lake house to Steve, telling him that they are free to use the place to get clean and rest up.

You don’t leave with Natasha until after she’s said a couple ‘goodbye’s and ‘see you later’s.

******

Taglist: @thelastavenger-3000 @aaron-despair @messuhp@izalesbean @bvb-bk @username23345 @sighsam@confusinggemini612 @natasha-danvers @rileigh519@higherfurther-romanova  @dynnealberto

[shotsbyshae]

Hello, hello, I has a small request if you do not mind. I'm living for these crossovers. Could you perhaps do one where Bucky is sent to take care of a domestic threat and instead finds reader taking care of some supernatural things?? however you'd like to develop it ensues?

Hypnotic

Warnings: Language, Little murdery, Some *not* mission related thoughts

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 1.6k

Song: Hypnotic by Zella Day

A/N: Not exactly a domestic threat, but still supernatural elements involved.

Magnetic, everything about you.

“It’s a milk run.”

Those were Steve’s exact words.

Fury had tracked a classified artifact to an antique shop down in New Orleans.

A book.

Bucky’s mission was simple – retrieve it.

Snatch and grab.

Easy.

Barnes goes during the day to stake out the interior of the shop and easily finds the storage room in the back of the building where they keep some of their more valuable items stored. He waits until the middle of the night when the store is closed works his way inside the building without incident but isn’t aware of the blonde woman who is watching his every move through an astral projection spell as he makes his way to the room where the book is being kept.

“We have company ladies,” the blonde states quietly, returning to her body and glancing at the other two women as the door to the room they’re in begins to open.

Bucky opens the door slowly, completely surprised by what awaits him on the other side. In the center of the room there is a large pentagram painted on the wooden floor, candles are burning in various locations, dimly lighting the small space. There are three women sitting in the floor along the edges of the pentagram, all looking at the man with wide eyes.

“What the –” he starts to question, but the woman with blonde hair utters a phrase in Latin, he’s almost sure of it, and flings her hands toward the wall, which sends his body flying against it.

Now it’s his turn to look at them with wide eyes as he begins to gather himself from the floor, unsure of what just happened. The blonde stands, moving closer to him as more Latin words fall from her mouth and his chest begins to tighten, lungs constricting, and he gasps for air. His hands clutch at his chest and neck as he watches the woman glare down at him with vicious, unadulterated joy in her eyes at his suffering.

“Violet,” one of the other women from the circle says to the blonde, her voice quivering slightly.

The blonde turns to look at her friends, finding you standing there. You have a pistol in hand, pointed at the other two women on the floor.

“Let him go,” your voice is soft, yet strong.

The woman with darker hair on the floor laughs briefly before saying, “Guns don’t work darling.”

Bucky watches helplessly, his air supply almost completely cut off, as the dark-haired woman begins to spew Latin words at you, just like his tormentor.

The shot is a deafening sound in the small room as you fire a round into the woman’s chest, causing the other girl on the floor to scream in horror as her friend collapses to the floor.

“Witch killing bullets do,” your response is cold as you glance over to the blonde. “I said – Let. Him. Go.”

Barnes inhales deeply, coughing, as the air returns to his lungs.

Violet turns to you, hands up as she smiles knowingly, “You’re a hunter.”

“Bingo,” your response is snarky. “So, you know why I’m here.”

“That book doesn’t belong to you,” Violet snarls, gaining Bucky’s attention as he stands up from the floor.

“No,” you remark coolly, glancing to the podium where the old leather-bound book sits. “But you stole it from my friend. I’m here to get it back.” You watch a malicious smile spread across Violet’s face as her eyes focus on something behind you.

“I’m afraid I can’t let you do that,” a man’s voice from behind you states.

Oh great, another one, you think to yourself as you turn to see an older, stately man standing there. With a flick of his wrist he rips your gun from your hand, flinging it across the room.

Bucky notices the gun slide to a stop several feet away from him, then watches as the man lifts you from the ground by just moving his hand, no Latin phrases, just concentration.

“I’m so sick of the pretenders,” the man says with a shake of his head. “You think knowing a few spells makes you a witch, when all it does is make you pathetic.” He lifts you slowly higher, evil in his eyes. “You don’t know true power.”

“Violet,” the girl from the floor whispers, seeing Barnes behind her friend inching along the wall.

The blonde begins to turn, but Bucky dives for the weapon quickly. You’re able to see him out of the corner of you eye as he rolls across the floor, coming up sharply on one knee, your pistol trained expertly on the man in front you as he takes the shot.

The force holding you up releases you, sending you crashing into the floor while two more gunshots ring out. Bucky slowly approaches as you gather yourself from the floor, slightly surprised when you pull a smaller pistol from your boot, pointing it at him with uncertainty. He’d taken out the other two women, what was stopping him from taking you out?

“What do you want?” your brows furrow and for the first time, Bucky notices how soft your features are.

He offers your pistol to you as a show of good faith, “I just saved your ass.”

Bucky watches as you take the weapon, holstering it and the smaller one before standing up. There’s a small glint in your eye as you say, “Well, I saved you first.”

“Thanks for that,” he replies, glancing around the room. “So – witches? I mean, what the hell was going on here?”

“Yea, witches. Why are you here?” you question him, realizing this is unfamiliar territory for the man. When he doesn’t answer, you place your hands on your hips, trying to make yourself a little more intimidating to the man before you. “Who sent you?”

Bucky tries not to smile at your attempt to be threatening. After all, it’s cute and in his line of work the threat is never cute, so he’ll play along with your questions. He’s already sized you up and knows he can easily take you in a fight.

Is it wrong he wants to?

Forget the mission.

Forget the book.

Shelve it for a later time.

You had just rolled into his life like hell on wheels and he can’t remember the last time he felt like this. How could he be so intrigued – intoxicated – by you within a matter of minutes?  

“Who sent you?” you question again, snapping him back into focus.

“S.H.I.E.L.D.”

You shake your head in disgust, “Fuck. They want the book, don’t they?” Bucky looks at you, running his tongue across his bottom lip. “Why?”

“You tell me?” he questions, trying to keep his head on the mission. “What’s in the book?”

“Just old spells – dark magic,” you reply. “Still, not something I would want in S.H.I.E.L.D.’s hands.”

“Why?”

“Sorry, but I’ve seen what Tony Stark can do without magic,” you respond sarcastically, as you turn to walk towards the table near the pentagram that the witches had set up.

“Who are you?” Barnes questions, as you rummage aimlessly through the stuff on the table. Tossing things over your shoulder. “What did she call you – a hunter? So, you hunt witches?”

You continue to act as if you’re searching for something on the table, not turning around as you place the few ingredients you need in the small piece of cloth, “Yea, and other things, since you boys in your sparkly spandex are too busy fighting off other worldly threats.”

“I don’t do spandex,” he narrows his eyes at your comment. Your smart mouth is only making this harder for him.

You turn to him, a slight smile gracing your lips, “Barnes.” He looks surprised at your knowledge of his name but loves the sound of it. “That’s it isn’t it, you’re the Winter Soldier? I should have known – no flashy suit.”

“Then you know I’ll be leaving with that book,” he remarks, unable to contain the smirk. “No offense.”

“Really?” there’s a mischievous glint in your eyes. “Is this the part where you say we can either do this the easy way or the hard way?” He watches the flirty expression on your face, knowing you’re up to something, and he’s rather enjoying this cat and mouse game with you. “Because I’m not easy and I don’t fight fair.” You drop the hex bag from your hand, staring into his blue eyes, the Latin word rolling easily off your tongue. “Manete.”

The confusion is apparent on Bucky’s face as you turn to walk toward the podium. He tries to take a step, but he can’t move. His feet stay firmly planted on the floor as he desperately uses every ounce of strength within him to take a step.

Nothing.

“What did you do?” he almost growls as you turn around clutching the book to your chest.

“Just a little immobilization spell,” you say sweetly, a perfect pout on your lips as you stare at him. You might be flirting on purpose, it’s easy to see the affect you’re having on him.  

“I thought you were a hunter.”

“I am,” you reply. “I also said I don’t fight fair. Don’t worry, it’ll wear off in about an hour.”

He watches you approach the door, frustrated in more ways than one, “I will find you.”

You glance over your shoulder at the man, “That sounds like a threat Barnes.”

Bucky grins, “Oh, that’s a promise doll.”

“It’s a date then.”

[queenbirbs]

the way home | Ch. 5 | Edward x MC

Pairing: Edward Mortemer x MC

Word count: 3,705

Warnings: language, some violence

Read from the beginning or continue on

Read on AO3

Tag list: @writinghereandthere | @not-sewell

------

The familiar sight of Port Monarque is a welcome one, despite the awaiting doom.    

Her wrists bound with shackles, Elena sits between two officers as they row into the harbor in a jolly boat. She knows enough of the city to find a decent place to hide and formulate a plan -- if she can manage to escape their clutches. One of the officers makes crude remarks at her, knowing she can’t retaliate with the dirty rag stuffed into her mouth. Elena’s too busy scouring the ships anchored down along the port. She can’t be certain if Edward’s is among them or not, what with her poor vantage point and the endless spider web of rigging lines. If Salacia’s Fortune is here, it’s likely tucked away in a cove to hide from navy patrols.  

The boat glides up beside one of the lower docks, some distance from the main thoroughfare. The officers tie to it before the crude one hoists Elena up and over his shoulder. He slaps her ass for good measure, ignoring her muffled threats as he climbs onto the dock. She hears the harbormaster’s approach. His low, gruff tone is almost familiar. Before she can struggle towards a better view, there’s the metallic cry of blade on blade. 

The officer dumps Elena onto the dock, where she flips onto her back and spots Jonas’s scarred eye underneath the ridiculous hat he wears. 

“Fancy seeing you here,” is what she says, though it comes out in a garbled mess. 

“A little help?” he asks as his blade clangs against the officers’. 

Elena shifts her weight and cocks back her legs, landing a solid kick against the crude one’s ass. He stumbles before falling over the side and into the water. Jonas feints high, then sweeps his boot out and knocks the other officer to his back. Elena follows behind with another kick, shoving him off the dock to join his crew member. 

Yanking her to her feet, Jonas slices through the gag and urges her down the dock and into the busy market. They slip behind an empty stall for him to strip off his coat.

“Cover yer chains with this.” 

Elena takes the coat and folds it over her wrists as best she can, feeling as if every nerve in her body is vibrating at the highest frequency. 

“Jonas, you have no idea how happy I am to see you. Where are the others? Is Edward with--”

“Aye, we’re all here,” he cuts her off, squinting down the port with his good eye as he keeps watch. She sweeps her gaze across the roaming villagers, unsure of what she’s looking for. Before she can ask, Jonas tips his head for them to continue on. She follows him through the market and up onto the serpentine streets that climb along the island. The city center is just as bustling, making it easy for them to dodge in and out of the crowds and down tight alleyways.  Across the tiers of rooflines, Elena catches a glimpse of the sun sinking towards the sea. Her boot clips on a loose cobblestone and she trips, smacking her shoulder into a dress shop’s window to keep from falling onto her face.

“Look alive, now,” Jonas mutters from up ahead, glancing back to make sure she’s keeping up. Even he can see the pale color in her cheeks and the small winces that make her jaw twitch; she’s in no shape to be climbing about like this, but there’s no way around it. “Weren’t my choice to have the rendezvous location all the way up here. I would offer to carry ye, if there weren’t the threat of you handing my arse to me.” 

She shoves down her injured pride and musters up a grin. “Where is this ‘rendezvous,’ anyway?” 

“Right here.”

The answer draws her up short. Ahead of them is a low, bricked building with a sign of two crossed hammers and an anvil. Jonas swings open the door and ushers her inside, before closing and locking it behind them. Three heads turn at the noise of their arrival. 

Robert nods at her from his perch near the fire, his hair and clothes soaked. Tripp grins at her and gives a little wave, beckoning them over. Before they can step farther into the room, though, Elena is bowled over by a blur of brown and blue. 

“Yer a right bastard,” Charlie chokes out as she wraps her arms around Elena and squeezes tight. “Making us search the world over for you, and here you are.”

“I’m-- I’m sorry,” Elena manages to speak around her dwindling air supply. 

Charlie pulls back and tucks her against her side. “Oh, love, I’m only teasin’. We’d’ve sailed to another planet and searched that world over for you, too, if we could.” 

Before Elena can get her hands free from under the coat, Charlie reaches over and wipes at her tears. Swallowing back the elation that clogs her throat, Elena takes another look around the shop. Something tells her that she can’t start jumping for joy just yet. 

“The others -- they’ve been captured, haven’t they?”

“Aye, they have,” Robert growls from his post. “I tried to talk some sense into him, but the boy’s a fool.” 

Elena doesn’t bother asking who the fool is. She lets Charlie guide her towards the fire and sit her down. Tripp approaches and takes the coat from her, guiding a small, hot poker to weaken the chain until the shackles fall away. As if a witch herself, Charlie produces a plate of food and a mug of water, pushing both of them into Elena’s shaking hands. 

“Fuck.” She tightens her grip to the point of pain. “I hoped you all would stay away.”

Jonas reaches down to squeeze her shoulder as he passes by. “And leave ye to deal with those navy dogs yerself? Not a chance.” 

“Robert got word to us yesterday, but we’d already decided to sail into the trap we knew was laid out,” Charlie explains. “We couldn’t be sure if we’d be able to get you out or not, so we split up. We left Ginny and some of the other crew back on Santo Domingo, to have as backup in case they brought you there. Once we got here, Jonas and I escaped in the jolly boat while the navy captured the ship. Edward, Maggie, and Henry are locked down in the dungeon of the governor’s mansion.”

Elena swallows the last of her food and sets the plate aside. Her nails drum against the mug as she vibrates with a newfound energy. She’s so close to having her family back together. 

“Okay,” she drags the word out, glancing between her friends, “so why are we all just sitting here? Let’s go bust them out.”

“Yer in no shape to be--”

“What?” Elena snaps as she straightens up in her seat. “No, I’m fine. Look, I made a happy plate and everything.”

“Lass,” Jonas says with a grimace, “ye barely made it up here. I have to agree with Charlie on this one.”  

From his spot near the fire, Robert chuckles and shakes his head. “Best to conserve yer energy and let her come along. God knows I spent too much time in the beginning of our partnership trying to shake her off. She’ll be a colossal pain in the arse if you leave her behind.”

“Thank you!” Elena exclaims, glad to have someone sticking up for her -- even if it’s hidden behind an insult. “I mean, even if you did leave me here, I’d definitely follow you guys anyway.”

Charlie makes a show of heaving out a reluctant sigh, but nods her head. “Alright, love. Ye’ve won this round.”

“Good. Because I’ve got a plan.”

 ------

 The dress shop is rather easy to break into, all things considered. 

For a stupid, fleeting moment, Elena worries about how she’s going to disarm the security system, before remembering the closest thing to that would be vicious dogs. Which, luckily, the dress shop doesn’t keep around. 

“Help me find the ugliest dress in here,” she instructs as they follow her into the dark shop. Jonas and Robert harumph at each other in that middle-aged man sort of way before wandering around. 

“This one is particularly atrocious if I do say so myself.” 

Near the back, Charlie holds up a garish, silken concoction of ribbons and lace in a searing shade of what would be called neon green in about two-hundred years. Elena crosses the room and runs a hand over the fabric, amazed by its hideousness. 

“It’s like if Tim Gunn told you to sew a traffic light.”

“I’ve no idea who or what that is,” Charlie laughs. “But I think this is our winner.” 

They don’t bat an eye at her stealing the dress. But when she stops them a few blocks from the governor’s mansion and asks them to rough her up, they all suddenly turn into law-abiding citizens. 

“We’re not gonna beat you up, lass.”

“Ye said ye just needed the dress!”

Even Robert -- who once strongly advocated for her to be tossed overboard, fought her in a sword fight, and blew up a cave while she was inside it -- makes an uncomfortable face at the request.  

“Good god,” Elena mutters as she tears at the fabric herself. “You’d think I asked you all to hack me into pieces. A good act only works with a good costume!” 

Satisfied with the dress’s destruction, she runs her hand over the alley’s dusty brick and spreads it across her cheek and neck. Charlie wipes off some of her own lip rouge and draws it over Elena’s lips and across to her left dimple. Without a mirror, Elena can only guess from their expressions that her attempt has worked. 

It certainly seems to work on the guards, who jump from their posts near the mansion’s basement door when she comes careening out of the dark. 

“Please! Please, help me!” she cries, grasping at the tangled tendrils of her hair. “My husband --the… he’s the Viscount Beauchamp! We’ve been attacked by… by these ruffians! They robbed him and left him bleeding in the street. Please, you have to come help!”

“Ma’am, where is--”

“Oh, this way! This way, please, you have to help him!” she begs the two men, dragging one of them by the arm towards the road and past a dark alley. “He’s bleeding! I nearly fainted at the sight of him. He’s got hemophilia, as I’m sure you know!”

“No, ma’am, I’m not sure what that--” 

Jonas springs up from behind a wagon and knocks the first officer out with fist to the jaw. The second officer backpedals and begins to draw his pistol, but Charlie grabs the weapon from him and whips him across the head. He drops to the ground in a heap of red fabric. 

“Hemophilia wasn’t discovered until 1828,” Robert comments as he drags the men into the alley and ties them up. Elena reaches down to tear off two more strips of her dress and offers it to him to use as gags. 

“Sorry, I left my wikipedia entry on genetic disorders back at home.”

“C’mon, you two!” Charlie beckons from the road. 

The four of them hustle back to the mansion, relieved to see the guards’ abandonment hasn’t been noticed yet. Charlie leads the way through the branching service tunnels, ushering them into empty rooms when more guards pass by on their rounds. As they wait for the sound of footsteps to retreat, Elena hears the unmistakable noise of Maggie and Henry arguing about his cooking.

“Some things never change, ay, love?” Charlie turns to wink at her before poking her head back out. “Coast is clear. Let’s go get our crew.”

And then they’re walking down into the dungeon and Henry’s voice is getting louder, until their footsteps start to echo down and the arguing ceases -- probably used to getting reprimanded by the guards, but Elena can’t bear the silence so she pushes past Charlie and snatches a ring of keys from a peg on the wall and races towards the cell where she can see the cloth of someone’s coat pressed against the bars and the keys are rattling in her hand and--

“It’s… Elena, is that ye? Elena!” 

A bucket clangs to the floor as Henry scrambles to his feet, followed quickly by Maggie. The nerves burning inside of her are doused by the realization that Edward isn’t with them. As Elena unlocks the door and throws it open, she tries to keep the disappointment from her face. She was so sure she would find Edward with them, and now the proverbial rug has been pulled out from underneath her once more.  

“We missed ye somethin’ terrible, lass!” Maggie beams as she sweeps Elena into her arms and hugs her tight. 

Guilt gnaws at her stomach; she returns the hug, smothering a laugh when Henry throws his arms around them both. 

“Alright, alright,” Jonas says, “give our gal some breathin’ room.” 

Henry and Maggie step back, though the latter keeps a hand on Elena’s back, rubbing up and down with gentle strokes. “Now, where has our captain run off to?”

“The guards took ‘im away ‘bout an hour ago.”

“Probably to rough ‘im up a bit to make him look good for the mornin’ crowd.” Henry grimaces at Elena’s alarmed expression. “Sorry, lass.” 

Charlie clenches her fists and shakes her head. “None of us are going to the gallows. And that includes our captain.”

“Aye,” Jonas agrees. “And I’ve just the--”

Noise from back down the corridor interrupts his plan. Standing at the end are two guards, each struggling to keep hold of Edward as he thrashes against them. 

“Charlie!” he calls. “Charlie, is she here? Did you find--”

“The pirates’ve gotten free!” one of the guards cries out. “Cut them off before they escape!” 

The crew races down the hall, their swords singing as they wrench them free. Elena pulls the dagger from her boot and chases after them. The other guard drops his hold on Edward and brandishes his sword. Rearing back, Edward headbutts him into the wall and snatches the sword as it falls; he swivels on his heel, knocking the first guard into an empty cell and slamming the door shut. More shouts of alarm filter down from above, calling out for reinforcements.

“Hurry!” Edward yells at his crew as they head for the exit. “There’s a tunnel we can use to…” his words trail off, lost under the pounding of their footsteps. “...Elena.”

Despite the dire situation, Elena can’t help the giddy smile that forms when Edward finally spots her. Every part of her body feels as if it’s going to spontaneously combust as she nears the end. His lips move in the shape of her name again, then again, and then loud enough for her to hear. 

“Elena!” two voices shout.

Confusion cuts through the euphoria when a hand seizes her dress and yanks her back. With an ear-splitting crash, a massive portcullis drops down from the ceiling and buries its sharp spikes into the floor. Right where she would have been. 

Though the crew is only mere feet away, she’s sealed from joining them by eight-thousand pounds of wrought iron. Her heart plummets at the realization. Beside her, Robert turns and fires on the guard who released the latch, hitting him square in the neck. Boots thunder across the floor above. Edward rushes to the gate, trying in vain to push it back up. The crew crowds around him to try and help, but it’s no use. 

“More guards are on their way,” Robert tells them. “If we want any chance at escape, we need to go now.” His glare moves from Elena and over to the crew. “The same goes for you.”

“No!” Edward grits his teeth and rattles the gate, cursing when it doesn’t budge. “No, we’re not leaving! If -- if we can find something to wedge under here, we can--”

The guards’ shouts grow louder as they close in. Elena covers his hands with hers and squeezes, her pulse racing at touching him for the first time in over two years.

“You have to go.”

His face collapses into a look of despair, his eyes wild with panic. “I won’t! You-- you’re here and I just got you back. I won’t leave you behind.”  

Robert barks her name and tugs at her arm. “If we don’t go now, they’ll catch all of us. Go!” 

“He’s right, Captain,” Charlie says.

“I-- we’ll wait for you. We’re anchored off the eastern coast. Meet us there and--”

“Edward, listen to me,” Elena pleads, digging her nails into his skin. “There’s no time. We’ll keep them busy and give you time to sail off.” 

“And leave you here?” he hisses in disbelief, frantically shaking his head. “Never.”

Robert tugs her again, harder this time, and she stumbles back away from the gate. Edward reaches through the bars and tries desperately to grab hold of her once more. Seeing their opportunity, Jonas and Maggie capture him and wrestle him back towards the exit. “No, we’re not leav-- no, Elena!” 

“We’ll meet you back on--” Elena cuts herself off, not wanting to shout out the location. “--where Ginny and the others are! I promise.” 

Racing down the hall after Robert, she watches over her shoulder until the crew disappears from sight. They reach the fallen guard, where Elena tucks her dagger away and steals the man’s sword. It’s not like he would get any use out of it, anyway. Robert guides her down behind a stack of barrels as the guards jog past. 

“I’m sorry,” he mutters, his gaze trained on the stairs. “But if they hadn’t left, it would’ve all been for naught.”

She stifles the urge to cry as frustration and outrage boil over inside of her. This isn’t the time or place for a breakdown, though -- not while trapped within the enemy’s dungeon. She empties out her lungs with a sigh and draws in a calming breath. 

“I understand.” 

“Good. We’re going to play this one just like we did at Edinburgh Castle, and then we’ll be scot-free.”

She wrinkles her nose at the term. “Was that a pun?” 

“Hush, lass. Now, hand me that powder keg they were kind enough to stow down here for us.”

------

AN: Edward’s new ship went through a few names (The Hangman, The Seeker, etc) before I decided that he’d probably go for something similar to his last. Salacia is the Roman goddess of salt water and the open sea.

[sushi-jyushi]

𝓟𝔸ℝ𝕋 𝓞ℕ𝔼 -- 𝙼𝙸𝚂𝚃𝙰 𝚇 𝙵𝙴𝙼! 𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙳𝙴𝚁

fluff !! :)

Polpo was dead. He had apparently committed suicide in his jail cell and everyone on Bucciarati's team was bewildered except for you. You hated his voice, his big nose and his ugly personality. The thought of him dead made it slightly easier to sleep at night, especially now that you knew he could never speak to you again.

      Yeah, you had some bad experiences with him. His interrogation of you made you uncomfortable, and you swore that if glass hadn't separated the two of you he would have touched you. You shuddered, ridding your head of the thought.

     Dinnertime arrived promptly at 5:37 PM when Fugo hollered throughout the hideout that dinner was done, come eat. You slipped some wooly socks on and grabbed your phone, then left your bedroom and headed to the dining area. 

     Narancia was already there, drooling all over himself with an eager look in his eyes. "Ahh~~ Fugo fixed steak! I'm so hungry I could eat it all..." Narancia stared dreamingly at the meat, and on a whim, attempted to steal a piece. Fugo saw this and thrust a knife into Narancia's hand, causing him to growl and curse at Fugo.

     A giggle escaped your lips. Abbacchio was now sitting on the far end, keeping to himself and sipping on wine. Bruno had just made his way down the stairs, a blank expression on his face. He walked over to Narancia and zipped his wound better, telling Fugo to heal him right now. He sat at the head of the table with his hands crossed, supporting his chin from his elbows. Giorno arrived seconds after, sitting between you and Bruno. The only person left was Mista.

     A few minutes passed, and Bruno was growing upset (though you could only tell from his light fidgeting). You stood up and nodded, turning your torso to face him. "I'll go drag Mista's ass down here, sir." He replied with a thankful nod, and you proceeded to climb the stairs with a gentle huff.

     Mista's room was the third door on the right; when you approached it, you banged your fist on the door and yelled. "Mista! Get your ass down there, we're all starving 'cause of you!" You folded your arms and pouted, listening for any sign of movement. You heard some rustling and indescribable sounds. He didn't respond though.

     "Alright, Mista, you have til the count of five and I'm BURSTING in there to whoop your ass! One." No response. "Two." The rustling continued. "Three." He was walking, or... jumping? "Four." His voice finally came through, right before you said the word five. 

     "Don't come in!" He pleaded, sounding a bit worried. You rolled your eyes and grabbed the door knob with the sort of sassiness you can only get from being hungry.

     Mista was frozen in place, eyes wide, as you stood there staring at him from the threshold of his room. He was pulling his clothes on, completely naked except for the pair of boxers he managed to slip on. His fingers were holding onto his red, tiger-print pants at the knees, and it almost looked like he was stripping down. You felt your face warm up a bit, but you covered your flattery with annoyance.

     "Why the hell would you take a shower before dinner?" You asked, folding your arms and walking over to hand him his shirt and cap. He shrugged and pulled his pants on the rest of the way, a little upset that there wasn't more of a reaction from you.

     Now that he was ready, you grabbed onto his forearm and practically dragged him down the hall. Number Five was sitting on top of your right shoulder, a tear in its tiny left eye. "(Y/N)~~~!!! We're so happy you caaaaammmee!!! Mista is starving us, and Number One is being mean again!" You cooed and ushered Number Five into the palm of your hand with a tiny smile.

     "Aw, Number Five, I'm sorry. You can sit with me! I'll share my steak with you, okay?" You gently stroked its head with your index finger, watching as Number Five wiped its tears away and purred at your touch. The other Sex Pistols were throwing a fit, but you didn't care; you always had a soft spot for Number Five. 

     As you descended the stairs, you released your grip on Mista's arm and ran down, stomach growling loudly. Fugo had returned with Narancia, who had a bandage wrapped in his hand. You sat left of Bruno, as your spot was taken by Fugo. You didn't mind, though. It was just a seat, after all. Narancia was on your right, foaming at the mouth and kicking the air as he stared at the food in front of him. Mista finally sat down, right beside Fugo, initiating dinner to begin.

     As everyone loaded their plates, Bruno stood up to perform the dinner ritual. Everyone paused once they filled their plate with food, and he nodded. "Thank you. Today, we received word that Polpo has committed suicide in his cell. That, however, is not the case. I do not encourage you to look into it further; just know that from today on, our tasks are going to get a bit rougher." He sat down and spread his arms, signalling everyone to chow down.

     As promised, you cut your steak and offered the smaller pieces to Number Five, who seemed to be happier than it had ever been in its life. You giggled, happy to bring joy to something so adorable. From the corner of your eye, you saw Mista staring at you as you placed some noodles in your mouth. You pretended not to see and continued eating.

     Narancia was the first done, despite getting seconds. Mista was second, partially because of his Sex Pistols eating his food with him. Everyone else was done around the same time, but the only person who had anything left on their plate was you. You frowned, upset that you couldn't eat the rest. You offered it to Mista, and he gladly obliged, quietly eating again as Bruno stood to discuss more mafia matters.

     "As you may or may not know, Giorno is the newest member of our . . . family. Please treat him with respect." Bruno eyed Abbacchio for a moment, and continued. "Giorno was the last person to see Polpo alive, and I'm sure he is devastated that he was the last person to chat with him." Something in Bruno's voice said he was lying, but you felt an odd rush of guilt at the thought. Bruno rambled on some more, and finally, everyone was dismissed. All that remained were you and Mista.

     He cleared his throat, and you played with your drink a little before standing up. He stood up too, eyeing you closely. "Wait." You froze in your tracks, watching as he walked around the table to study you. "You saw me half-naked, and didn't get flattered. That must have been difficult . . . Unless you've seen me fully naked before." You raised an eyebrow, confused as to what he was rambling about. 

     "Mista, shut up. Maybe I didn't like what I saw." You folded your arms and sauntered to the staircase, phone in hand. He grabbed your shoulder and turned you to face him, drawing you in inches from his face. Your face turned crimson in response, and he laughed heartily after pulling away. "Oh fuck off," you mumbled, stomping up the stairs.

     "You'd like to see that, wouldn't you?" Mista asked, smirking and raising an eyebrow as your figure disappeared into your room.

     You slammed the door behind you and sighed heavily. You weren't in the mood to argue right now. You walked over to your bed and flopped down, laying on your stomach. Mista was just delusional, that was all. You didn't like him, right? You wouldn't wanna see him naked... 

     The very thought made your face hot, and you punched your pillow and brung it to your face. You shook your head, trying to get the thought out of your head. 

     

     Minutes later, you heard a knock on your door. You sighed and sat up. "It's open." The door slowly opened, and you saw Mista's figure enter your room. He shut it behind him and peered into your tired eyes with a confusing stare.  

     "Hey, um... I'm sorry." His hand was resting on his neck, and his eyes trailed to the floor. You sighed.

     

      "Uh-huh. Who told you to apologize?" You asked, raising an eyebrow and folding your arms. He sheepishly replied that Fugo heard everything and said he wasn't being a gentleman and needed to apologize. You smiled lightly and thanked Fugo in your mind. You scooted to your right and pat the spot beside you, offering him a seat on your bed. He obliged, and you two were inches apart again. You could feel his warmth on your arm.

     "So, um, about Polpo... Why did you hate him so much?" Mista asked, finally meeting your eyes again. You shivered and bit your lip. His eyes widened, and he apologized immediately. "I'm sorry! I didn't know what the circumstances were ... I didn't much like him either to be honest."

     You sat there quietly, taking a deep breath before explaining. "He made comments about my body. He told me a model like me shouldn't be in the mafia, unless I was his... sexy maid. I... I laughed of course, but it... Got to me. He made a lot of sexual gestures and innuendos and it just messed with my head."

  

     Mista nodded and grabbed onto your hand. "Hey, don't worry. I would never have let him lay a finger on you... You're too important to m- to the mafia. To us." You smiled in response and squeezed his hand. 

 

     "Thanks Mista." You sighed and laid on your bed, throwing your arms over your head and breathing deeply. Tomorrow, everyone would head out to get Polpo's hidden fortune. You weren't scared, only sad that you probably wouldn't get to go. Mista saw your mood drop, and laid beside you, holding you close.

   

     "Maybe Bruno will let you go after all," he said, looking into your (E/C) eyes. You nuzzled into him, closing your eyes heavily and swallowing the sadness that was eating away at your sanity. He ran his fingers through your coarse hair. Number Five appeared and nuzzled it's cheek on yours. You were soon being comforted by all 6 of the Sex Pistols; after that, the two of you fell asleep in each other's arms.

[theworldsoul]

the reason for the tyranny was that their leader saw the future and said hell no this aint happening and got parnoid but his paranoia and actionscaused it?

Grayson hoisted himself up onto the metal fence and began to climb it. So what if it was “ Private Government-Owned Property”? They were useless. Liars. An obvious example was the very fence he was climbing. It had a sign up on it claiming it was electric, but then how was he climbing it without a single shock? Put the government in charge of the Sahara desert and a couple weeks later we’d be in debt for sand! He was at the top of the fence now. He jumped off and stuck the landing perfectly. He had always been livin’ on the lam, just never outside of District 2. This wasn't new to him. Just as he landed, a loud siren began to wail:

 “ BEEEEE-DO-WEEEEEEEE! BEEEEEE-DO-WEEEEEEEEEE!  BEEEEE-DO-WEEEEEEEE!” Toxic red lights washed over his skin in waves of neon. He had to get out of there, and fast! If the cops caught him on “Private Government-Owned Property” with a black backpack full of banned music, bullets, and a pistol, he would be in some deep water. I mean, he already was in deep water, but it would just be deeper then, as they would ask questions. Ones he would rather not answer. 

So Grayson ran. He ran far away from here, from the little town of Lachlan, the very district it was in, and maybe the entire world, just as he had wanted to do his whole life. He had never wanted anything more than to just get out of this godforsaken place. Since he was hated by all, nobody would really mind if he disappeared for one or two days. Or one or two years. Or one or two forevers. Grayson's heart beat fast , thundering in his chest so hard he thought it might explode! Blood thundered through his veins loudly and steadily, matching his feet thumping against the dry earth, like a jungle drum of sorts. 

Jungle drum. Song number 13 in his ever-growing cassette collection. They were in a backpack on his back right now, bumping and clashing around with his walkman, some papers, and headphones. All forms of music in The Dreaming, the land in which he lived, had been banned. You were not allowed to sing ,dance to , make, own, buy, or sell music. All books of fiction were banned, only nonfiction were permitted. He had some audio books on cassette tapes in his backpack as well. And then there were the bullets and the gun. But those were just the risks of being a messenger for notorious criminals. He didn’t care about risk. Hell, he would end his life now if he felt like it. He was given a small sum as a messenger, but the thrill paid for itself.

Suddenly, a man burst out a building near the fence. “ Get back here!” He yelled. Grey ran faster. The man followed. Sky, dark. Grass, dying. But most importantly: clock, ticking. The man suddenly gave up , and Grayson thought he had finally won. But the man had a walkie-talkie, a small yet important detail he had missed. He ran, and in the distance, he saw….

Freedom. Another fence. The border that separated The Second District from The Third District. He needed to make it to The Third District , because the moment he was beyond that border Lachlan police had no control over him. Soule police did. And since he had only committed crimes against the town of Lachlan and not the city of Soule, they wouldn’t lock him up. He had other reasons to leave, all listed in one of the papers in his backpack. 

By now he was so close to the fence it hurt. Escape into the big city was just out of reach of his fingertips. Just as he was about three and a half arm lengths away from it, a cop car swerved in front of him, nearly running him over! A policewoman popped out of the vehicle and told him he was under arrest, blah blah blah. She reached into her utility belt for a pair of handcuffs, but before she could get them, Grayson delivered a vicious uppercut into her face. The policewoman collapsed onto the grassy ground, and Grey took his pistol from out his backpack and loaded it up. He pointed it at her temple. “ Sorry.” He pulled the trigger. “ Not sorry.” Her eyes rolled up in her head and her muscles relaxed. He saw the bullet dig into her skull, the way the blood dripped over her jagged skull. 

At least she had it quick, at least she didn't have to starve to death like everyone else in The Dreaming. Heh. He tried to be proud, but all he felt was….. nothing. Numbness. Like he was stuck in a state of no state at all. Then a sense of urgency returned. He knew backup police were coming. So he quickly vaulted over the fence and broke into a run, yelling jauntily : “ THE SYSTEM IS BROKEN! I HATE THE GOVERNMENT! PEOPLE STARVE, BUT HEY, POPULATION CONTROL IS ALL YOU BASTARDS CARE ABOUT! AND YOU BANNED ALL FORMS OF CREATIVITY, AND YOU CENSOR OPINIONS THAT DIFFER FROM YOURS! THEY ALL DESERVE TO TRY TO LIVE IN THE  WORLD THEY HAVE MADE! WITHOUT SOCIETIES THERE WILL BE NO SILENCE” He wasn't too sure whom he was addressing or why, but he felt alive. He had butterflies in his stomach, the kind you get from free falling. Grayson ran , out into a new land. Out into the city. 

IT FOLLOWS LUCY AS SHE DIES AND THEN GRAYSON AS HE MAKES HIS WAY THROUGH THE BIG CITY OF SO-UHL AND FINDS THE GUY HE HAS TO DELIVER SOMETHING TO AND ADD MORE DESCRIPTION TOO 

Lucy stared back at the crowd of people. Aiming at her mouth they threw rotten tomatoes at her. She tried to move but being tied to a wooden pole makes it fairly difficult. “ Witch! Evil sympathiser of those against the royal king!” They sneered. Tears burned her cheeks and blurred her vision. 

“ Burn me, not! For I am but a peasant girl in the height of her youth! I request that you may take pity on thee, and let me be free to roam!” She protested helplessly. She squirmed, trying to somehow shake loose the ropes tied around her. They dug into her soft skin, breaking and bruising it. A tomato splattered in her hair, then another on her dress. “ Help! Oh God help thee! I beg of you!” She screamed. A man looking quite smart in a suit , the mayor, struck a match against the wood pole she was tied to. She watched in horror as the pole began to burn. The fire festered, and the flames soon reached her shoulders and spread quickly. Lucy lets out a bloodcurdling scream while the people witnessing her death cheer with great joy. “The witch is gone! The witch is dead!” They cried happily. “ Long live the king! God save the queen!” They were oblivious to her crippling pain. Her suffering. Her ultimate death. She just wanted some justice, that was all.

[psychosistr]

Talk to Me- Chapter 5

Summary: A brilliant idea on Steelbeak’s part leads to a fun time involving one of Domino’s favorite pastimes.

Notes: Another chapter of bonding and fluff before something more dramatic begins >:3

-First Chapter-

Steelbeak finished taking off the cap on the bright red fire hydrant, looking through the fence at his partner waiting on the other side. “Ready?”

Domino, standing a couple feet off to the side to avoid the incoming spray, nodded. “Do it.” He had both of his pistols out and loaded.

That was all the go-ahead Steelbeak needed to bring the thick wrench up to the pressure valve on top of the hydrant and start twisting it, releasing a fierce stream of water that rushed through the fence and all over the ground on the other side. It had been a while since he’d broken open a fire hydrant without his metal beak but, after some fumbling with the spare wrench from the emergency repair kit in the trunk of Domino’s car, it all started to come back to him. The struggle had been worth it, though, to see the excited gleam of anticipation in the loon’s eyes at what was to come.

Once there was a sufficient pool spread out across several feet ahead of him, Steelbeak gradually eased the water pressure until he was able to screw it shut again. “Alright, Dee- it’s all you!” He gave the darker bird a thumbs up once the cap was back on the hydrant.

“This should only take a minute.” Domino aimed his guns at the large pool of water and began firing at it. Instead of lead bullets, though, what came out of the pistols were small capsules that burst when they hit the water’s surface. Anywhere the capsules hit began to rapidly freeze over and, after firing enough shots to empty both clips, the ground was covered in a large, semi-even sheet of ice. “There.”

While Domino holstered his guns once more, Steelbeak tossed the wrench back into the trunk of the other bird’s car and made his way back through the open gate. “Lookin’ good, Dom.” He looked over the icy ground before giving the loon a wink. “And the ice ain’t lookin’ too bad, neither.”

“Smooth.” Domino chuckled quietly, giving the taller bird one of those charming smirks that made blood rush to his face. “If the ice is anywhere near your level, then this should be fun.” He returned the wink before stepping onto their improvised ice-rink, gliding across it with ease on his bare feet.

Despite the whole thing being his idea, Steelbeak was a little more hesitant to step out onto the ice. “Just don’t laugh at me too much when I start fallin’ on my face, alright?” He took a cautious step onto the slippery surface. So far so good. Now just add the other foot and push forward to- “Woah!”

Steelbeak, predictably, ended up sliding forward a few inches before his feet started to slide out from under him and he fell forward onto the ice. While he thankfully avoided hitting his face, the impact still knocked the wind out of him and left him momentarily dazed.

“Do you really expect me NOT to laugh after that performance?” Looking up from his sprawled out position on the ice, Steelbeak saw his partner standing in front of him. The loon was smirking down at the prone rooster with an amused smirk on his face, clearly enjoying the other’s misfortune.

With a grumble Steelbeak attempted to get back up, succeeding in getting as far as his knees without falling. “Well, ex-cu-use me- we can’t all be figure skaters.” He tried to get his feet under him and managed to get a few inches off of the ground before slipping again and falling back into a seated position. “Son of a-!”

He heard laughter and looked back up to see Domino practically doubled over and holding his midsection. While Steelbeak wanted to be mad over someone laughing at his clumsiness- and he really, really, REALLY wanted to be mad about it- he found himself just staring, instead.

Sure, he’d heard Domino laugh before, particularly tonight while they’d been talking, but the other man was usually so much more..reserved about it. A quiet laugh here, a chuckle there, maybe even a few seconds of more joyous laughter once in a while if something was particularly funny.

This, though…this was different. This was more like at the restaurant right after he’d revealed the trick he’d played on Steelbeak: It was raw and open and just so genuinely joyful between the sound and the smile on his face that it warmed something in Steelbeak’s chest and made it impossible for him not to smile and laugh along with him.

It took a while for both of them to calm down, having to wipe tears of joy from their eyes once they’d settled into quiet, breathless chuckles. “Here.” Steelbeak was surprised to see a long strip of purple fabric being dangled down in front of him. He realized quickly enough that it was Domino’s scarf and that the other end was being held in its owner’s hand while he looked down at him with a calm, patient smile as he waited for him to take the other end. “Or do you prefer having frostbite on your tail feathers?”

“Nah, can’t say that I do.” With a grin on his beak, Steelbeak grabbed the free end of the scarf. “Don’t go off on me if I pull ya down too, short fuse.”

Domino rolled his eyes, but the fond smile on his face made the action ultimately pointless. “You of all people should know that I’m stronger than I look.” Well, Steelbeak definitely couldn’t argue with that one after everything he’d seen the other bird do to guys more than twice his size. With that in mind he gripped the scarf firmly in one hand and pushed off of the ice with the other, managing to get all the way up to his feet with Domino pulling the scarf taut to offer him a counterbalance. “Three seconds without falling- you’re already improving.” The darker bird joked with a smirk. Steelbeak was about to say something snappy back in return- “Why don’t you hold on to that?”

“Huh?” Steelbeak looked at his partner in confusion, then down to the scarf still being held in his hand. “Ya sure ‘bout that, stripes?”

“If you keep falling like that, you’ll break the ice.” Domino said while wrapping his end of the scarf around his left hand twice. Once he was done, he held his hand up for the other man to see. “This way we can make it last a bit longer.”

“If ya say so, Deedee.” Steelbeak shrugged and mirrored the shorter bird’s actions with his right hand, wrapping the scarf around it twice. “Just don’t go too fast, alright? Im kinda rusty.”

“Wow, I never would have guessed.” The shorter bird said sarcastically before he pushed off of the ice with one foot to glide forward.

The sudden motion startled Steelbeak a little at first, but he was silently grateful that the other man at least heeded his request to go slow. It took him a while to get used to the feeling of skating over the ice, lots of long strides back and forth before taking slow turns around the edges to go back the other way. It had been a really long time since he’d been skating- at least two or three years, if he was remembering it correctly. Every now and then he’d start to lose his balance and nearly fall, but a firm tug on his hand would always level him out before he reached the point of no return. The quick pulls and feeling of tension around his palm were more than welcome and, after a while, a slight flush bloomed across his cheeks when he realized what it reminded him of.

He snuck a glance down, his eyes trailing along the purple fabric connecting his off-white feathered hand to the black feathered one on the other end. Even with the ends of the scarf wrapped twice around each of their hands, there was still a foot or two of space between them- just enough to avoid bumping into one another if they ended up falling. Still, despite the distance between them and the lack of warmth in his palm, the pressure around his hand and the bright smile on the other man’s face left him with a feeling better than every instance of the real thing put together.

“Dang…you’re amazin’..” It wasn’t until red eyes were looking at him with a quirked brow that Steelbeak realized he’d said those words out loud. He felt his whole face go red and he looked away in embarrassment, trying to recover from his slip of the tongue. “I mean, you’re, y’know, amazin’ at this skatin’ stuff! Haha, yeah, that’s it! Dunno how ya can do it so good with no shoes on or nothin’!”

When he hazarded a glance back at his partner, he saw the aquatic fowl was looking at him with an amused smirk. “Uh huh.” He said sarcastically before guiding both of them around another turn. “If you’re really interested,” The teasing tone of his voice clearly communicated that he knew the other wasn’t actually that interested in it. “It’s mostly because of how much I’ve practiced.” They got around the turn and started skating back the other way, the loon even showing off a little by skating backwards so he could face his partner properly as they talked. “My base up north was in a colder climate and we dealt with snow and ice quite a bit throughout the year. I spent a lot of time on breaks and between missions going out for walks and skating on the lake nearby. It was refreshing after spending so long cooped up in the academy.”

Feeling that the embarrassed flush on his cheeks had calmed down significantly, Steelbeak regarded the loon curiously. “Thought ya said your academy was up north, too?”

The amused smile on Domino’s face quickly turned to a grimace at the mention of his old training camp. “Yes, but I only ever got to go outside for training exercises..the instructor kept me too busy for anything else..”

“Real stick in the mud, huh?” Now Steelbeak really WAS interested.

“More like a thorn in my side.” The grimace turned into a full-blown scowl as he spoke, still keeping an even pace across the ice. “I don’t know what I did to piss him off, but the general in charge of my class had it out for me from day one: He always singled me out for extra work to do around the base, so I never had time to study. When I started my firearms training he shot me in the leg and gave the excuse of ‘The first thing to train on is how to handle BEING shot’. Not to mention he took every opportunity to hit me from behind or pull out my feathers.” He rubbed at his head with his free hand, clearly remembering the feeling all too well. “Then, even after I passed my final exams with some of the best marks in my class, he STILL refused to give me my agent status and tried to make me an eggman.”

“Geez, what a prick.” Steelbeak was scowling now, too. “What’s the guy’s name?” He’d have to pay the jerk a visit sometime in the future, maybe see if he could pull a few strings to have him reassigned or put on a suicide mission or something..

“General Rover.” Domino huffed and shook his head. “I already-”

“Wait, wait, wait- hold it!” Steelbeak cut him off before he could continue, his earlier scowl replaced with a curious look bordering on bewilderment. “General Rover? As in General ‘Red’ Rover? Old dog, dark brown-but-kinda-red fur, some sorta Australian breed?” He moved a finger vertically over his left eye with his free hand. “Real bad scar right about here? Eye’s kinda milky lookin’ an’ don’t work that well?”

Domino looked a little baffled, but nodded nonetheless. “Yes, that’s him. Was he a friend of yours or-?”

The loon was interrupted once again, though this time it was by Steelbeak laughing so hard that he had to stop and grab the bars of the fence at the end of their path rather than turn as they had been. “You’re pullin’ my leg!” He wheezed out between his uncontrollable fits of laughter. “I-I’m dyin’! Oh-ho man, I’m dyin’ here!”

Domino eyed the taller man with a look somewhere between confusion and caution, likely thinking the other was in the process of losing his mind with how hysterical he was acting. “I think I’m missing the joke here..”

Steelbeak made an effort to calm down, he really did, but the whole thing was just so FUNNY that the best he could do was look at his confused partner with a face-splitting grin and gasp out a few words here and there between barely-restrained chuckles. “That..That’s the chump whose wallet I stole!!”

Red eyes blinked and widened in surprise. “Wait, are you serious?”

“Yeah!” Steelbeak tapped the eye that he’d indicated earlier. “I gave the old dog that scar when I was a kid! Cut ‘im an’ left my knife right in his eye- messed the old dog up for life!”

“That was YOU?” Domino’s confusion was quickly turning into amusement. “Wow…what are the chances?”

“I know, right?!” It still took a few more deep breaths for the rooster’s fit to finally stop. “O-ho man, that’s the best laugh I’ve had all night.” He used his free hand to wipe a stray tear from his eyes before looking at the darker bird with a grin. “Yeah, I think the guy’s got a problem with birds or somethin’, and what happened with me probably didn’t help any- sorry ya got the fallout from it.”

“Don’t, it wasn’t your fault he was a terrible person- I’m fairly certain he’s ALWAYS been like that.” The loon shook his head with a chuckle, a deadly smirk slipping onto his beak. “Well..I suppose I should say he was like that..”

Steelbeak smirked back at his partner, already getting an idea of what happened from that blood-thirsty gleam in the other bird’s eyes. “Ya blew up on the guy didn’t ya, short fuse?”

“Making me an eggman was the last straw.” The short-tempered bird sighed with a tone of mock sympathy. “He just pushed me one too many times. Such a tragic accident.”

“I can hear the world weepin’ over it.” Steelbeak matched the other’s mock-pity before they both broke the façade and started to chuckle and snicker again. “Wish I could’ve been there t’ see it.”

“Do you remember the man that grabbed my shoulder in the hall right after we started working together?” He continued when he received a nod from the taller bird. “Imagine that, but about fifty times worse.”

If Steelbeak had less self-control, then he would’ve trilled at the other’s words- the more sadistic side of his mind just adored what his partner was capable of (as long as he wasn’t the target of it, of course). “O-ho-ho, you DESTROYED ‘im, didn’t ya? C’mon, c’mon: I need details.”

“Well, if you insist.” Domino smirked as he began to recount the full story of how he brutally attacked his former instructor/tormentor.

Steelbeak had every intention of listening, too, more than happy to hear all the gory details…but a spec of red on the shorter bird’s shoulder distracted him. Normally he wouldn’t think anything odd about seeing red on his partner since it was one of the main accents on his usual outfit, but the loon wasn’t wearing any red tonight. What was even more out of place was the fact that it was moving like a bug, going up from his shoulder towards his head, but he couldn’t see any legs or wings moving. If anything, it looked more like a la-

“MOVE!” He acted without thinking and practically tackled the darker bird.

If what he saw didn’t kill him, his partner probably would.

<-Previous Chapter Next Chapter->

End Notes: Will I ever write a story where these two don’t end up in some kind of danger?...Probably not x3

Also, just wanted to add that I consulted @thefriendlyfour regarding the general from Domino’s training days to get a better idea of what a jerk he was and was granted free reign to come up with a name and design for him. I went with the name “Red” Rover to fit in with the children’s game theme that seems to follow any OC’s associated with Domino’s past x3 He’s an Australian Kelpie with dark brownish-red fur, contributing to his nickname.

[laketaj24]

Friends II: The Pity Party Police

Authors Note: Pettiness. It is likely my favorite thing in the world lmao. I hope that you enjoy this little update. Thanks to @grungyblonde for the inspiration and all your wonderful comments and opinion sure helped with the next part lmao! There is an author’s note at the bottom!! Let me know what you think! And my taglist is open!! My muse is back!! Working through my queue. Thanks for your patience if you have requested something!!   @honestsycrets gif credit! 

Friends Pt 1

Warnings: Smut and Pettiness

Read more works here with my Vikings Masterlist that needs to be updated! Lmao!!

“You don’t have to say yes.”

Those words rang in your head over and over. What the fuck else were you supposed to say? No fuck you, Ivar! So you said yes. And hoped they’d never show their faces in Kattegat again. You sat in the chair of your apartment staring at the picture of you two, how in the fuck could he do this?

“Open up the door! The Pity Party Police are here!” Torvi banged on the front door and rattled the door knob. “We know that you are in there!”

“I told you we should have called.” Ubbe gripes.

“Shut up.” You can hear the playful slap. “Y/N let us in our we will make so much noise out here!”

You walk over to the door and swing it open. “Why are you two here? I told you that I was fine Torvi. I’m fine I swear it.” The lie was all over your face, the sunken eyes and lack of changing your pajamas for three days was solid proof a friend-tervention was needed. “Ubbe get your girlfriend.”

“I just do as she says.” He chuckles but you saw through the little laugh. He was worried too. “He left and we brought over beer and food. And Hvitserk. Hvitserk!” he yells over his shoulder.

And sure enough the little guy trudged alone up the steps carrying more food than Ubbe and Torvi combined. He looked good. The nice undercut as freshly trimmed and his hair was shorter now, he must’ve got into the law school.

“Hvitty!” You yelled opening the door for them to all come in. “You cut your hair.” Your hands instinctively go to his head and he smirks.

“Yeah, I got into Kattegat Law, required a haircut.” He grinned and walked into the apartment.

Now you suddenly regretted the not bathing and crying your eyes out over the younger brother from hell. “I am going to disappear for a minute and change clothes. Please don’t destroy my house while I am getting dressed.”

“We make no promises.” Torvi opened the vodka and a poured it into the punch bowl on the table. “Go bathe so we can strip later. You’re wasting precious night. I have to work tomorrow.”

Bossy. You do as she says though, and suddenly got why Ubbe just did it too. You take a shower washing off the sorrow and a little of the hurt of days prior. You don’t dress up too much, black jeggings and a workout shirt, you sling the coiled curls into a puff and head down to your guests who were already deadest on partying with or without you.

“Never have I ever, fucked on an elevator.” Torvi grinned at Ubbe and they both took a shot. They pissed you off at their adorableness. This might be harder than you thought.

“Take your shot glass hun, we are playing a freaky game before Alfred and Athelred show their little pristine asses up over here.” Hvitserk gives you the tall shot glass that’s almost to the brim filled with vodka. “Your go never have I ever.”

“Uhm….”

“Come on now.” Ubbe sits up. “There has to be something foul in that mind up there.”

“Never have I ever fucked brothers?”

Torvi glared at you and then cackled. “fuck, are you trying to get me wasted?”

You blushed as she knocked back the shot of vodka. “I didn’t know.”

“Bjorn counted for something. And then that one time with Hvitserk and you…” her lips pressed against Ubbe’s. he didn’t have a care in the world that she had fucked three out of five of the brothers. “Are the only one that counts, right love?”

“We can count Hvitserk, I was there anyway.” He smiled.

They talk and drink and Torvi ends up dancing herself sleep until you and Hvitserk are the only two lone survivors. Your phone buzzed and buzzed. But you didn’t want to stop listening to Hvitserk tell his stories. They were cute none the less.

“So I walk out of the frat house, fucking naked in the snow! The fucking snow! My balls were blue and this time it wasn’t from the lack of pussy but from the sheer cold. Alfred, Magnus and damn Athelred had hidden my clothes and I had to leave fucking naked. It was horrible. My car was cold. My ass was cold. Fuck I was cold.”

You can’t stop yourself from laughing, doubled over and feeling the warm buzz of the liquor flood your body. “And you call them your friends.”

“Fuck one is supposed to be my fucking brother! It was a shame.”

“Obviously, I’m sorry I missed your bare ass in the snow. It would have been snapchat worthy.” You clear your throat staring down at your phone. It was Ivar. Who else was writing you after midnight?

 “I’m sorry my brother acted that way, I know how much he means to you.” His hand touches your thigh, rubbing the soft cotton of your leggings before he pulls his hand back. “He’s an ass.”

“Yeah, whatever.” You take another shot and lift your phone up. Ivar watched every story of yours on snapchat, liked every picture on social media. Why not give him a show? You lean over and lift your camera. “You wanna make him mad?” You smile.

“I would love to.” As if he knew your ploy, he kissed your lips. They were softer than you expected and more excited.  You snapped the picture and post. “He’s gonna murder you. But since I’m going to be a prosecutor, I can make sure he gets what he deserves.”

You chuckle and toss your phone aside. Straddling him was different from Ivar, he thicker for one, his thighs sure would make a great ride. You want to blame the alcohol but it’s not the alcohol, you kiss him again and start to rock your hips. Hvitserk has no objection and why would he? You were already wet through the leggings as he fingers went to search for your clit.

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

“I’ve been sure for about five minutes now.” Your phone started to buzz over and over, and the seeming feeling of joy exploded over your body. “Oooh, now I’m really wet.” You laughed as he hoisted you up and carried you to the room.

“Where are you two going?” Ubbe groaned.

“To make an enemy.” Hvitserk laughed and closed the door behind you two.

Hvitserk wasn’t a slow fuck. He was fast, needy and took what he wanted. He snatched the leggings from your body exposing your bare legs and glistening pussy and in his eyes danced the hunger you’d heard about him. He crawled up the bed after you and spread your legs. “May I?”

May he what? The question is only there for a second as his tongue laps at your clit and he greedily eats at your clit like he’s never eaten before. Your hands tug on the short brown hair as he sends you to Valhalla and back, sliding his fingers in and out of you as he sucks and nips and licks you senseless. And when he comes up for air, he places his lips on yours allowing you to taste yourself before unsheathing his thick, long and curved cock from his pants.

Revenge Sex. That was the fucking answer.

He doesn’t give you time to adjust to him before he rocks into you causing a gasp to spring forward as he rocks your pussy to new depths. He stretches you with each pump and you can’t tell if you’re hurting or about to cum and you don’t care. You call his name, mewling and whining for him to go harder, deeper faster until you cum under him and he pulls out of you spills his cum in ribbons on your stomach.

Ubbe opens the door and his eyes are wide looking at you with delight.  “Got another brother so quick.” He chuckled. “If he calls this fucking phone one more time, I am going to chunk it out the window. We are trying to fuck.” He nods placing it next to you. “Nice work brother, hate you didn’t invite me?”

You look to Hvitserk whose spent. “Go away Ubbe.”

“I’m leaving.” He laughs.

You two lay in the bed and you can hear Hvitserk snoring lightly. You slide out of the bed and walk to the balcony. He’d called twelve times and left voicemails. You didn’t bother to listen as you dialed his number and slid the glass door closed.

“Y/N!” he answered on the first ring.

“don’t you dare call me and get a fucking attitude.” You snapped.

“You are with Hvitserk.”

“Why the fuck does it matter? You have a baby coming, with a woman you barely know. I can fuck whomever I want, whenever I want. And let’s get this clear I will. I was nice to you, and I listened to your bullshit. That hurt. So now you will hurt. I am going to fuck every one of your brothers and your dad.” You laugh as the words come out. “And I am going to let you hurt like you fucking hurt me. And tell your girlfriend, thanks for invitation to be God mom, but fuck both of you. And the bitch don’t look pregnant. So, you should check that out? And enjoy your pity party baby, I’m having a blast at mine.” You end the call and a wicked grin covers your face. Revenge was best served cold. Friends your ass.

Author’s Note: Who should she fuck next lmao??

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[echoes-of-the-clockwork]

Book One: Death (Noctis x Reader) Chapter Twenty-Four

The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse summoned their four steeds—Thanatos, Erra, Limos, and Montu. Noctis rode with Death, Prompto with Famine, Gladio with War, and Ignis rode with Pestilence. They rode to Insomnia, easily avoiding the daemons blocking their path to the city. The four girls could feel the tug of their summoning orbs as they rode further and further from Hammerhead.

Arriving in the city, the party was greeted by an onslaught of powerful daemons. Fortunately, the Horsemen's abilities were enough to keep them at bay as they rode through the streets of Insomnia. They reached the Citadel, but a various array of daemons blocked their way inside. 

"Great..." War grumbled as Montu scuffed his hoof into the pavement below, nodding his head in agreement with a neigh.

"Never said this was gonna be easy," Famine stated.

"Nothing is ever easy," (Y/n) comments to her sisters.

"May I?" Pestilence asked calmly, ignoring the approaching daemons.

"You've got a plan?" Gladio inquired.

The white-haired girl nodded. "You four need to make it to the throne room inside the Citadel. My sisters and I will create an opening, allowing you all to reach the building."

"We're not gonna—!" Noctis started.

Death quickly interrupted him. "We are immortal. We've faced more daemons than you four will ever in a lifetime. We know their weaknesses and their strengths. Trust us, Noctis. We'll meet you inside soon enough."

Reluctantly, Noctis nodded. The Four Horsemen hopped off their steeds, shortly followed by the boys riding with them. They eyed the daemons that were stalking towards them, teeth and weapons ready to tear into their flesh.

War summoned a bow and took out a daemon with a single arrow to the head. She smirked, switching her aim to another enemy. Famine called upon an intricately designed blade before jumping into the action with her red-haired sister. Pestilence summoned a staff, tapping the end twice against the asphalt below. A powerful gust of wind pushed the oncoming horde of daemons away from everyone.

(Y/n) summoned her scythe, slinging it across her shoulder. She turned to face the four boys, who wanted to fight alongside the Horsemen. "When you see an opening, take it." She joined the fray and decapitated an Iron Giant before moving to aid her sisters in any way possible.

"We're not seriously gonna let them take on all these daemons by themselves, are we?" Prompto asked.

"We've no choice in the matter, Prompto," Ignis responded.

"They can handle themselves. For now, we wait," Gladio added.

The boys watched as Pestilence and Famine took down a few Red Giants in the blink of an eye. Death and War handled a powerful Arumusha, who managed to get a few hits in before vanishing into nothingness.

Noctis found an opening and ran towards the Citadel with Prompto, Gladio, and Ignis close behind. They pushed open the heavy doors and quickly closed them when a daemon tore its gaze from the Horsemen and set its sight on them. Luckily, the door sealed before the creature could attack.

Suddenly, a body came crashing through the wall beside the door. The person rolled against the floor before their back collided with another wall. The wall crumbled down upon the person, causing the boys to worry.

The person pushed through the rubble with a groan, revealing themselves. It was Famine. She saw the worried looks on their faces and offered them a smile. "I'm fine."

War appeared in the hole in the wall and nodded towards the royal retinue. "Take them to the throne room. There's bound to be some daemons hiding within the building."

"Just take care of what's outside. I've got them covered," Famine reassures her fiery-tempered sister. War vanished and rejoined Death and Pestilence in the courtyard.

The blonde-haired Horseman brushes off the dust from her clothes and summons her blade. "Follow me, gentlemen."

"You know where you're goin'?" Noctis questioned, curious as to how Famine knew her way through the Citadel.

"Of course I do. My sisters and I have visited the Citadel many times. You just haven't seen us because our meetings with King Regis were secretive and only a few people had knowledge of our existence. His Majesty only trusted three people with this knowledge because he feared one of his trusted allies was plotting against him. It's a shame to see his fear became reality."

"Yeah..." Noctis melancholically sighed.

The wall to their left was pummeled into a pile of debris as a couple of reapers obscured their path. Famine immediately charged in while the boy's summoned their weapons to provide assistance. Noctis, Ignis, and Gladio jumped into the fray alongside the Horseman while Prompto kept his distance with his pistol.

Famine decapitated one of the reapers, but the other one swung its scythe at her. Prompto saw she was oblivious of the incoming attack and ran to her side, tackling her to safety. They rolled across the marble floor, coming to a stop just a few feet from the throne room. Noctis, Gladio, and Ignis finished off the daemon while Prompto released his hold on the girl. "Y-You okay?"

The Horseman smiled sweetly at him. "I'm fine. You do know I'm immortal, right?"

"W-Well..." He nervously stuttered. "That still doesn't mean I want to see you get hurt."

Famine giggled at his response, her smile widening. "Now I know where the gods dumped all their sweetness."

"On your feet!" Gladio roared. More daemons were pouring into the Citadel through the hole the reapers created. Death, Pestilence, and War regrouped with the boys and Famine, taking down the onslaught of daemons.

"We can't keep this up," Pestilence stated.

"Get into the throne room, now!" (Y/n) demanded. The boys and her sisters listened, avoiding the daemons that were trying to swarm them.

Once inside the grand room, the four Horsemen sewed the door and combined their mana to create a temporary lock. "That'll hold for a few minutes," War exclaimed. "We need to make this quick."

"Once the Starscourge has been vanquished, the sun will deal with the daemons for us," Pestilence stated.

"Then let's bring the Crystal home," Famine smiled.

Noctis stood beside (Y/n), watching as she and her sisters used their connection to the summoning orbs to bring the Crystal back to where it belongs. A bright light filled the throne room for a few seconds before dissipating. The Crystal, which was once stolen, stood in the spot where it belonged. All the Horsemen sighed, exhausted from the massive amount of mana they used.

(Y/n) felt her body was weak and she grabbed ahold of Noctis' sleeve, catching the prince's attention. "Now... it's your turn, Your Majesty."

"The rightful king shall sit upon the throne and purge the world of the Starscourge," the four Horsemen said in unison.

Silently, Noctis nodded and summoned his father's sword. He slowly ascended the stairs and sat down in the throne that now was his. Holding Regis' blade tightly, he did what he had to do to bring light back to Eos.

While watching alongside her sisters, (Y/n) felt a tinge or pain in her hands. Raising her hands, she saw her flesh was transparent and slowing shattering with cracks of bright light. "Guess we used too much mana, huh?" She whispered to herself. She eyed her sisters, noticing their bodies were also shattering with a brilliant light. Clenching her fists tightly, she decided to ignore what was happening to her and the other Horsemen.

Rays of sunlight beamed through a large hole in the throne room and through the only few remaining windows.  Even with her body slowly vanishing, (Y/n) could feel the warmth against her skin.

"We did it!" Prompto cheered while running over to Noctis and the new king descended the stairs. He gave his best friend a hug before pulling away to smile at him.

"About damn time," Gladio huffed with laughter.

Ignis gasped in shock when he felt the scars around his eyes mend and his once dark world became bright. He heard giggling and lifted his head to see Pestilence smiling beautifully at him. "Just a final present."

"What?" Noctis' eyes widened when he heard the snowy-haired girl's words. "What do you mean "final"?"

"Our bodies are deteriorating," War sighs, placing a hand on her hip. "Once we're gone form this world, our bodies will be mended back in the Inner Sanctum."

"How long will that take?" Gladio asked.

"Months... Maybe even years," (Y/n) answered.

"No way," Noctis vehemently hissed, shaking his head as he stares at the girl he loves with all his heart. "There's gotta be another way."

"There is no other way, Noctis." (Y/n) felt her body becoming weightless as the seconds ticked by. "But I promise to not keep your waiting for long."

Noctis wanted to protest further, but his words were lodged inside his throat as he saw cracks of light spread across Death's face and torso. He rushed over to her and the moment he wrapped his arms around her, her body shattered into ghostly wisps of glass. He watched as the pieces floated in the air before vanishing.

One by one, the Horsemen vanished. The boys watched helplessly as their bodies dissipated into nothingness. They were all silent until Prompto spoke up. "Never thought I see the day."

"Neither did I," Gladio said. "But we owe it all to them. We barely did a damn thing."

"I already miss them..." Prompto mutters sorrowfully.

"We'll make sure we thank them properly once they return." Noctis glanced towards his advisor when he didn't speak up. "Specs, how about—y-your eyes!"

Ignis was deeply enthralled with the gift Pestilence had given him before her departure. His fingers trailed around his eyes where the scars once were. There were no indications he had any injuries whatsoever. "A welcome change, indeed."

"When did you—?" Prompto started.

"A departing bestowal from Pestilence," he replied with a small smile. Seeing him smile was enough to bring the rest of the boys even more joy.

"Let's go back to Hammerhead. From there, we'll start making plans to rebuild the city," Noctis said.

Prompto nodded and cheered at the top of his lungs. "Let's go!"

<———————————<<<<<<<<<<<<

Three years have passed since the light returned to Eos. Half of Insomnia was rebuilt while efforts to restore the remainder of the city back to its former glory continued.

Noctis was wandering around the Citadel. Construction had completed a few months ago and the hallways were nearly bustling with new and old faces. He was still trying to get used to being the new King of Lucis. Every now and then, he would glance down at the ring of his forbearers when it felt heavy on his finger. Prompto, Gladio, and Ignis were always with him, making the burden easier. Morosely, he was still missing the one person who makes all his worries wash away.

A day wouldn't go by when Noctis would think of (Y/n). He eagerly awaited her return, but he felt his hope for her to return dwindle each day. Only one thought haunted him since the day she vanished alongside her sisters.

She's never coming back

Noctis fought against the frightening and heartbreaking thought, failing to notice he bumped into someone. He went to apologize to the person, but words failed him when he saw who it was.

"I've been looking for you for the past ten minutes! People said you were wandering around and every time I checked where they last saw you, you were gone!" Death crossed her arms, tapping her foot against the marble tiles. When she only received silence in response, she wiped the pout from her face and smiled warmly at him. "Guess I've made you speechless. It's been a while, Noctis."

Without anymore hesitation, the king placed his hands on (Y/n)'s cheeks and pulled her closer. He sealed her lips with his in a passionate, hungry kiss. Deepening the kiss, he moved his hands from her cheek to her hips, pulling her body flush against his.

Once the two were satisfied, they pulled away from one another, but Noctis kept his hands on the Horseman's hips. "Well..." (Y/n) cleared her throat. "That was definitely shocking yet welcoming. You miss me that much?"

"You've no idea," he sighed contently. His arms snaked up and around her waist, pulling her into a hug. He nuzzled his face against her cheek as her arms wound around his neck. "You sure know how to keep a guy waiting."

"Sorry," she chortled. "We didn't realize truly how much mana we used until our bodies returned to the Inner Sanctum. But we're back now."

""We"?"

"Famine, Pestilence, and War are currently looking for the others. They decided to give us a few minutes to ourselves."

"Guess I better get another kiss before our moment's ruined," Noctis smirked.

(Y/n) grinned before placing her lips against his in another intoxicating kiss. Her hands trailed up to his hair, threading her fingers through his soft, raven locks.

When Noctis' hand brushed against her exposed arm, he remembered how cold her skin truly was. He felt her cheek earlier, but he was too occupied with his overflow of emotions to register the cold flesh. He pulled away and stared into her (e/c) eyes. "You're still freezing."

(Y/n) gripped the front of his suit with an eye-roll before tugging him back towards her. "Just shut up and kiss me."

•••••••••••END••••••••••••

A/n: The next book in this series will be Famine (Prompto x Reader). I know I'm a horrible person for not finishing these last two chapters much, much, much earlier. I wanted to apologize for how crappy the ending was and promise the other books will be much better and I'll be extending the length of each chapter. Hope you all enjoyed this story! Love you all!!!

[shastelly]

Sunset - March Klance Prompts from Monthly Klance - Day 6

Oi a day late and a dollar short...but I think you’ll get why when you see how crazy long this thing went and I still feel like I short changed it, please enjoy :)

Sunset – Day 6

 Lance named the planet Texas.  Keith frowned and Coran corrected him and said it was called Tethanias.  Lance didn't care he said there were cowboys and rustlers and shootouts, and it was Texas.  Keith pointed out he was from Texas and was not a cowboy, had never seen a rustler and nobody said anything about shootouts.  Lance was not going to let Keith ruin his fun.

 They landed on the surface of the planet midmorning.  It was a simple mission.  That really should start setting off alarms for anything referred to as simple at this point.  Anytime someone said easy or simple, they should probably just fire the pods up, put up the particle barrier and wait for all hell to break loose.

 The people of planet Tethanias were essentially ranchers.  They raised an animal that looked like a purple cow the size of an elephant with antlers like a moose.  The Tethanias themselves were bipedal humanoids with black skin and yellow eyes.  They were similar in stature to the Galra.  They were also kind and welcoming and very happy to have Voltron respond to their distress signal.  The Galra had been funding a group of bandits on their planet.  The bandits were attempting to overthrow the government and using terror tactics and thievery to accomplish their goals.

 The people were further hampered in their efforts to stop the bandits because they were migratory most of the year and spread out across much of the primary landmass on their planet.  It made them all easy targets but was essential for proper grazing of the thranbeasts.  The technology level on Tethantias was what Pidge kept calling steampunk.  They had some things like laser pistols, but also didn't have running water.  It was an odd mix really and the tech they had seemed very haphazardly cobbled together.

 The Tethantian leader was named Regip.  They had sent the distress signal.  Twice a year the people on the planet would gather for a huge festival.  The grounds stretched for miles around a central circle. It was then that the people traded for goods they would need throughout the year and were able to meet and socialize with those they would not see otherwise.  There were many weddings arranged during the festival and it was considered a time of joy.  This year however, there was an undercurrent of fear.   Regip had no doubt that the bandits would attack.  They weren't the largest or strongest, but according to the others they met with Regip was the smartest Tethantian on the planet.  

 The paladins were simply there to protect the festival, patrol, keep the peace, and watch out for the bandits.  Regip sincerely hoped that the presence of Voltron would be enough to keep the bandits from attacking at all.   Allura had easily agreed to the request.  Shiro had suggested that if they did locate the bandits, they could do more than just keep them away, perhaps capture them and turn them over to the leadership. Regip was thankful for the offer but insisted that they not take the risk.  He had said Voltron was too important to the universe for hunting bandits on a little planet like his.  Allura had smiled and laid her hand on his shoulder and told him that Voltron was here to help everyone and that they would do all they could to help him and his planet.

 ***

 So, Lance found himself leaning against a fence post on a dusty street watching space horses in a corral.  Even if they weren't called space horses and they didn't call it a corral it's totally what they were.  He reached out a hand and the pink dappled one with the purple hair nuzzled into his hand. He smiled softly and reached around to scratch behind her ear.  

 "That one's called Gert."  An older Tethantian spoke from behind Lance startling him.

 "Oh, sorry, is it okay if I pet her?"  Lance asked belatedly.

 "Sure, no worries, son."  He leaned against the fence next to Lance.  "You seem to have a way with animals, do you ride?"

 "Well, I've never ridden one of these, but they seem similar to our horses on earth and I used to ride those.  My family has a little farm."  Lance happily supplied.

 "Want to give it a try?  She's gentle."  The old man offered.

 "Could I?"  Lance asked with a longing in his voice.

 "Sure, lest I could do for you that's helping us with those bandits.  Name's Ibo."  The old man patted Lance on the head, in what he'd learned was a greeting one would receive from an elder on this planet.  He returned the proper greeting of placing his hand on the elder’s forearm.  

 "It's nice to meet you Ibo."

 Ibo walked Lance through how to saddle Gert and what commands were used for what.  It wasn't that dissimilar to riding at home. The bridle was attached at the ears, but worked pretty much as he remembered, he should say brup instead of whoa and supsup instead of giddyup, and Ibo had to find a child's saddle for him to get the stirrups in to the correct length.

 Lance took Gert for a couple of easy laps around the corral, getting used to how it felt to ride her.  It wasn't the same as horse on earth, her muscles didn't work the same way, so it just felt different.  He then eased her into a trot and finally let her take the lap as fast as she wanted. He whooped as the wind blew threw his hair.  His helmet had been left carefully sitting in the grooming area.  Finally, he brought her back to Ibo.

 "Thank you!"  He gushed. "It's been a really long time."

 "Take her with you today then, you'll be patrolling the festival, right?  It would be easier with Gert."  Ibo offered.

 "Are you serious?  I would love that."  Lance's grin was as wide as possible nearly splitting his face.

 "Sure, there are water troughs and tie outs all around the festival, stop her and let her drink every two varga or so and take good care of her."  Ibo patted Gert's neck.  "She's a good gal, she'll take care of you too."

 "Thank you so much!"  Lance would have hugged the man if it had been culturally appropriate to do so. Ibo handed him his helmet and opened the gate.

 "Have a good day.  Bring her back after sunset at least."  Ibo called and waved to Lance as he rode away.

 ***

 "What is that?!"  Pidge shrieked.  

 "A space horse,” Lance smiled haughtily as he came riding up to where the others were gathered.

 "Why do you have it?"  Keith asked pulling back slightly.

 "Oh, this nice old guy said I could borrow her for the day.  Her name's Gert."  Lance leaned forward and patted her neck.

 "And is it, are you sure it's safe?"  Hunk aske curious and a little nervous.

 "Sure, she's sweet.  I don't think she'd hurt a fly."  Lance assured Hunk.

 "I think she's a carnivore.  She has pointy teeth, Lance."  Pidge noted.

 "She's pink and purple and the guy said she was gentle."  Lance countered with a frown.

 "I'm just saying I think she's more dangerous than she looks."  Pidge said keeping her distance.

 "Well so's Keith, but we keep him around."  Lance snapped pointing at the boy in question.

 "Um…thanks?" Keith answered perplexed.

 Pidge covered the laugh that tried to escape and turned away.  Hunk gave Lance a kind of sideways look, but let it go.

 "You're sure you can handle the animal and take care of it?"  Shiro asked.  "You know how to ride it safely?"

 "Sure, I'm a good rider.  I rode horses a lot back home."  Lance smiled over at Shiro.  "No problem."

 "Alright, but I've been calling you on the com for the last several ticks and you can't hear it strapped to your saddle.  You need to wear the helmet up there."

 "Aw, but Shiro, I wanna feel the wind."  Lane whined.

 "You can feel the wind in your hair another day.  I want you to have a functioning brain under that hair when this day is done.  Helmet or no riding."  Shiro crossed his arms.

 "Fine, Dad."  Lance snipped slipping on his helmet.

 Shiro ignored the Dad part and pulled up a map on a holoscreen for them all to see, "Okay so I have the festival ground divided into three sections. Pidge, you and Hunk take this area here. It's mostly booths and vendors, so it's going to be crowded, keep your eyes open."  The two nodded.  "Allura and I are going to take the main camp area here.  This is where the families have tents set up.  There are a lot of people and a lot of innocents here."  Shiro looked back to see Allura coming to join them, she'd been on the com updated Regip of their plan.  "Lance and Keith, since you have the yegrat to ride you get the largest area. This will cover most of the grazing fields and the main street.  The shops in town are all closed up for the festival and as I've been told there aren't even many people staying in town other than the ones who live there year-round. Everyone clear on the plan?" The all nodded.  

 "Be safe paladins, Regip says that the bandits are ruthless and willing to do anything to take over.  The Galra have promised them much to deliver this planet."  Allura cautioned.

 "Why do they even want it?  Space cows? What they need a good burger?" Lance huffed.

 "They don't want it that badly or they would be here themselves.  I fear the reason would be to harvest these people for slave labor, they are hardy and strong."  Allura said with a sad frown.

 "Oh."  Lance thought of these people who lived in the fresh air being forced into some dank mine and shuddered.  

 "Alright everyone, meet back here at dark.  Pidge has sensors you can set up in your areas that will alert us to any issues during the night."  

 Pidge handed Keith and Allura bags, "I've marked the places these need to go on your maps.  They just stick into the ground.  Shove them down all the way so they don't stick up any."  

 "Alright, let's go, everyone stays on the coms."  Shiro cautioned again as he and Allura moved off to the camp area. Pidge grabbed Hunk's arm and Lance heard her say something about a food booth before they were off as well.

 "So, want a ride?"  Lance offered an arm down to Keith.

 "You're sure she can carry us?"  Keith looked skeptical.

 "Sure, she's stronger than an earth horse and one of those her size wouldn't have any trouble with us.  Have you ever ridden before?" Lance asked curious.

 "No."  

 "Huh? I thought you were from Texas."

 "I already told you I wasn't a cowboy.  Do I look like a cowboy?"  Keith growled in frustration.

 "Nope, just stereotyping."  Lance asked with an easy grin.  "I'll pull you up behind me.  The saddle is pretty big so just sit here and hold on with your legs to the horse and your arms to me."

 Keith muttered something but held his arm up and with some scrambling made it up onto the space horse’s back and settled in, his arms tentatively wrapped around Lance.

 "Okay back there, Vaquero?" Lance asked slightly amused.

 "I'm fine."  Keith gritted and tightened his grip as if proving it wasn't an issue.

 "Good. It's fun, really, I'll go slow." Lance honestly wanted Keith to enjoy this, and if having Keith ride a horse with him happened to be a little fantasy of his, well, he didn't need to tell Keith that.

 He started Gert off to a slow walk and headed off to the area they were to patrol. There really weren't very many people at all.  Apparently, space cow-elephants were very well mannered.  When they swung around to the main street it was pretty much empty as well.  They could hear the noise from the festival booths and the more muted noises from the camp, but their area aside for the snorting moo sound the space cow-elephants made was pretty quiet.

 "Feel like trying something a little faster?"  Lance offered.  Keith had quickly gotten comfortable riding.  Lance could feel when he found the rhythm of the horse’s movement and had settled in more fully.  His grip had loosened a bit but was still warm around his waist.  He'd pulled up away from Lance and had been looking around more.  Lance kind of missed having Keith's torso pressed against his back.

 "You're on."  Keith tightened his grip and leaned back in closer.  

 Lance tried to keep the shudder out of his body at the contact, but he wasn't sure he'd achieved it entirely when Keith blew on the back of his neck and asked with a laugh if he was cold.

 Lance answered by clapping his legs against Gert and yelling "supsup" and they took off at top speed.  Keith had yelped a little and his grip tightened further.  

 "Don't worry, Mullet,” Lance laughed.  This thing between them was still new and awkward and they hadn't told the others yet, though Lance suspected they all knew.  Shiro smiled at them too much, Hunk occasionally gushed and dropped too many awwws, Pidge raised eyebrows and smirked, Allura didn't press, and Coran had said a few things that made Lance think he didn't even realize they were supposedly keeping it a secret.  The only one that probably thought it was still a secret was Keith.

 After a few ticks, Keith had loosened his grip, but was still holding tight and pressed against Lance.  Lance smiled as they neared the canyon that they had ridden through on their first round. He kept Gert at a quick run but backed off the full gallop as they spun around the corners.  Keith laughed, not the sarcastic bitey one or the shy awkward one, no a full I'm a teenager having a good time laugh.  So really there was no way Lance couldn't turn to try to catch a glimpse of this rare occurrence and Gert was a good space horse and wasn't going to run them into a wall.  However, if he'd been looking forward, he might have noticed the ambush before the tree limb swung in his path and smacked him in the chest sending him and Keith flying off Gert's back and into the rocky floor of the canyon.

 As his helmeted head connected hard with the ground, Lance made a mental note to apologize to Shiro for thinking he was over protective, maybe he was just the right amount of protective.  The bouncing was enough to disorient them both and allow the bandits to get the upper hand. By the time his head quit spinning, Lance found himself with his hands tied behind his back and tethered to a stake in the ground.  Keith was bound in a similar manner, and Gert's bridle was also anchored with them. The space horse looked ticked and several bandits were sporting bite marks.  Tethantians apparently had blood the color and consistency of Pepto Bismol.

 A large bandit stepped up to them and sneered down at them, "So these are the Paladin's Regip called to assist him.  He further scorns our traditions by bringing such weaklings to aid him."

 Lance remembered that Regip had told them the bandits adhered to an ancient code on their planet that the strongest should rule.  Regip had been elected in a new practice and the more enlighten people of their planet had chosen for leadership ability verses ability in battle.  Apparently, it bothered Regip a lot, because he said if he had been stronger, he could have challenged the leader of the bandits to a battle.  The winner would become the default leader of the bandits under their code.

 "Execute them."  The bandit leader announced suddenly.

 "Whoa, wait, what?"  Lance scrambled back as bandits approached him and Keith with large knives in their hands. Keith growled and tried to pull free of ropes.  "Hey, the Galra will pay big to get their hands on a couple of Voltron Paladins." Lance offered, not really wanting to be in the hands of the Galra but needing to at least buy his team some time and really wishing they hadn't had to leave the lions on the ship to avoid spooking the cow-elephants.

 "I don't need a payment.  When I secure this planet, I will have all I need.  They will be grateful that I cripple Voltron with your deaths." The leader sneered.

 "I wouldn't be so sure.  Zarkon will probably have you executed for not turning us over."  Keith hissed.

 "Totally, the guy has a thing for the black lion and anything that gets in the way of him getting to her is…well I wouldn't want to be you."  Lance backed.

 "You are trying to save your lives.  Your lies mean nothing."  He dismissed them with a wave and turned to leave.

 "NO!" Keith pulled frantically at his hands as the guys with the knives moved in closer.

 "Wait! I challenge you!"  Lance spit out frantically.

 "What did you say?"  The leader growled and turned.

 "I challenge you to a duel.  You have to accept, unless you are an honorless piece of crap."  Lance taunted pulling back from the guys with the knives.

 "You, pathetic excuse for a Paladin, challenge me, Yretzi the Bold, to a duel?" He laughed.

 "Well, I can see you're afraid and you should be."  Lance's voice deepened and ended his light-hearted approach.  

 Yretzi snarled and stepped over to Lance, "Very well.  I accept.  Choose the weapon."

 "Pistols."  Lance answered, knowing it was a common weapon on the planet, "And I want to use mine."

 "Lance, what are you doing?" Keith hissed.

 "No. You will be provided a pistol." Yretzi shook his head.

 "How do we know it will be functional?  How do we know you won't cheat?"  Keith snarled.

 "How's this?"  Yretzi pulled a pistol from the belt at his waist and fired it at Keith hitting him in the leg. “He can use this one.”

 "Hey!"  Lance ran to Keith.

 "I'm okay."  Keith gritted.  

 "Yeah, okay, right."  Lance put pressure on the wound and turned to glare at Yretzi.  "So much for your honor," he spat.

 "Don't fret, Paladin.  I will provide bandages.  It is not a fatal wound.  I could have killed him."  He turned to one of his flunkies, "Wrap his leg and then bring them to the town main street.  We will have our challenge in the traditional manner."

 And that's how Lance found himself back to back to a bandit leader with a pistol strapped to his thigh and ready to make 10 paces and turn to fire.  Lance felt sweat running down his back, he was a sharpshooter, not a quickdraw.  All he could say for sure was that if he lived long enough, he wouldn't miss. Keith was oddly silent staring at him from the sidelines, re-staked on a shorter rope next to Gert.  His leg was wrapped and had quit bleeding already.  Apparently, the bandit had a little honor.

 "The duel will commence when I begin counting."  The bandit speaking was large, if not as big as the leader, he must have been his second.

 "One, Two, Three," Lance paced forward with the count his entire body trembling.  "Four, Five, Six," he took a deep breath and steadied himself preparing to fire. "Seven, Eight, Nine," Lance felt calm, like crazy I'm not going to die in one second calm. "Ten."

 And the shit hit the fan.  Lance spun around pulled the pistol and brought it up to fire.  A blast struck him in the gut as he pulled the trigger, but his aim was true and Yretzi fell a smoking hole between his eyes.  Lance curled forward around the wound falling to his knees.  Keith screamed and Gert screamed and then the bandits started screaming.  

 Lance wasn't really sure what happened at that point.  He remembers Keith talking to him.  He remembers Gert nuzzling his head, and then Hunk was there and then he was somewhere else.  It all kind of felt like a series of pictures and not an actual fluid memory.

 ***

 He does remember falling out of the cryopod into Keith's waiting arms and looking up into his very angry face.

 "What the hell were you thinking?" he growled.

 "Um…which part?" Lance asked with a sleepy smile.

 "The duel at high noon?" Keith snapped.

 "Oh, um, something like, oh quiznak they are going to kill us, stall, stall, oh shit I hope he's a bad shot?" Lance muttered.

 "You hoped? Bad shot?" Keith stuttered.

 "Well, I guess he was, I'm alive?" Lance offered.

 "No, he just didn't know anything about human anatomy.  That shot would have been right through the main heart for one of his people!" Keith yelled.

 "Oh."  Lance blinked, so shear dumb luck.

 "Is that all you have to say, oh?!"  

 "Please stop yelling at me?"  Lance was starting to get irritated and it showed, generally falling out of a pod resulted in a love fest not an inquisition.

 "You could have died." And then Lance wished for more yelling because Keith was crying.  Keith Kogane was actually crying, and it really sucked.

 "I'm sorry.  I was trying to buy us time.  I…" Lance blushed and started offering apologies, but on the third sentence Keith pressed his lips to Lance's and he forgot what he was trying to say.

 "Keith, is he…oh."  Hunk laughed having walked into the med bay and caught them.  "I'll let the others know Lance is out.  Regip wants to present us with medals at the festival tonight, so get him some food and some rest.  Might want to let him breath there Keith he's turning funny colors."

 Lance sucked in oxygen when Keith backed off, somewhat grateful and annoyed at Hunk at the same time.

 ***

 Several vargas later they are standing on a wooden stage in the center of the town circle having metal stars pinned on their chests, the planet's version of a medal of honor.  Gert, the space horse, even gets a special recognition and Ibo smiled proudly from the crowd.  

 Lance has a short speech to give demanding that the bandits, those that lived through the Keith and Gert rampage, all pledge their allegiance to the planetary government, because he was now their new leader, having defeated their old one, and they were required by their arcane code to follow him.  Lance wasn't entirely convinced this would stop them, but Regip seemed to think it would help.

  The festivities were wrapping up and Lance was feeding Gert bits of some kind of hamburger type thing, she was a carnivore, when Keith slipped up behind him and wrapped him into a hug.

 "Having a good time?" He asked.

 "Yeah."  Lance smiled as he continued petting Gert leaning back into Keith's arms a little.

 "Wow, did you see that sunset?"

 Lance turned to see the red sun sitting on the horizon with reds and pinks and oranges all swirled in the clouds around it.

 "Keith, we have to!"  Lance exclaimed.

 "What? Have to what?"

 ***

 Hunk and Pidge were sitting next to each other on the steps to the stage they used earlier.  Hunk was eating some kind of pastry and Pidge had a drink that tasted like butterscotch and was warm.  As they watched down the street, Keith climbed up onto Gert and then helped Lance on in front of him, basically sitting him across his lap.  They slowly began riding out of town.

 "Where are they going?"  Pidge asked between sips.

 "Pidge! They're riding off into the sunset!"  Hunk pointed all misty eyed.

 "Um…they know the shuttle is the other way, right?"  Pidge pondered.  "Are we supposed to go get them?"

 "Pidge, the sunset!  Look it's like their silhouette there against the sun, riding out of town!"  Hunk kept trying to make Pidge understand pointing at the obviousness.

 Pidge just shook her head, "Ah never mind they have to bring the space horse back anyway, right?"

 Hunk stared at her, face dead.

 "Am I right?"

 Hunk shook his head and walked away.

 "What'd I miss?"  Pidge giggled knowing exactly what she had done to Hunk.  She looked back at the sunset and Lance and Keith riding off, they deserved it.  Smiling she took another sip of her hot butterscotch and hummed happily to herself.

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[pricechecktranslations]

TTDS: The Three Daughters of Sir Torture; Chapter 1

Torture Tower Doesn’t Sleep: The Three Daughters of Sir Torture infomine under the cut 

Character Info:

Benjii Kenpu (Benji Kemp): A regular of Stella’s bar. Wears glasses, and evidently works as a doctor. Doesn’t pay his tab.

Chenbaren (Chamberlain): Not a person but a wealthy family in Lion City.

Hanku Fieron kyou (Sir Hank Fieron): The popularly-called “Sir Torture”. Used to live in Torcia Tower. There are lots of books and plays based on him, as he was (in addition to being a torturer of war prisoners) a famous war hero. He apparently died midway through responding to a summons by the king, traveling there by boat (as in, fell from the boat).

Jibetto (Gibbet): Is a regular of Stella’s bar. Appears younger than Lloyd, but carries herself with a very mature air.

Rakku (Rack): Very childish. Has a short haircut.

Ransuroodo Haaku (Lancelord Hark): A fictional hero based on Hank.

Reimondo (Raymond): A street performer. Friendly. Apparently looks a little like Zepeto.

Roido Rooweru (Lloyd Lowell): A thief who fancies himself an attractive (to women) sophisticate, smarter than the average thug and talented with firearms. Normally works alone, and looks out for himself only. Not from Lion City. Has a favored pistol he keeps on his person. Close to his thirties (was shy of 10 years old when Hank died). Has plans to get back to the capital someday, and for that he needs money. He also originally wanted to be an actor, and as such has some knowledge of theater (and once played Romarius in a play). He doesn’t like talking about his past. Has trained himself to be able to see a little in the dark. Has killed six people in the course of his work as a thief.

Sutera Taunsendo (Stella Townsend): The owner of Stella’s Bar. Young, and has red hair that’s tied up at the back. She’s just scraping by herself as it is, her father unable to walk after his legs were injured and unable to hire any help.

Zepetto (Zepeto?): A member of Lloyd’s temporary team that betrayed them to the police. Apparently Raymond looks a little like him.

Setting Info:

Basuzu no tsufu(?lots of readings for this) (Pot of Basuzu): Could be written as Baths but I think it’s a pun on Pazuzu from the Exorcist. A pot that belonged to Beritoad. Has four silver handles, and is always full of water, according to Gibbet. Legend says all who drink it are cured of their ills, and gain eternal life.

Josephiinu (Josephine): The name of Rack’s torture device. Basically a rack.

Rionshiti (Lion City): East from Lloyd’s hometown. A city in the sticks, without much police presence. In an economic downturn.

(Sutera no sakaba) Stella’s Bar: A bar located in Lion City’s downtown. The sign has a bottle and drinking glass on it. It has 3 four person tables and 5 seats at the counter. There’s a bunch of glasses behind the counter, as well as something large and bell-shaped that’s covered in black cloth (a bird cage, probably). Originally, the sign read “Townsend’s Bar”, but Stella figured having a woman’s name would bring in more male customers.

Touruchiatou (Torcia Tower): Five stories tall, grey, old. Hank Fieron used to live there until 20 years ago. Supposedly empty since his death, but recently his daughters have suddenly started living there. Said to hold the “Pot of Basuzu” on its top floor. No windows below the third floor. First floor is divided into several rooms. There is an atrium on the second floor that lets in light from the third floor. The second floor is just one big room. The third floor is where the torturing happens. Fourth floor is nothing but jail cells.

Yookushiti (York City): West from Lloyd’s hometown. A city in the sticks, without much police presence (same as Lion City).

Youma (Wraith): A sort of demonic entity with strange powers. Rare, and not widely believed in anymore. Beritoad is an evil wraith, and Romarius is a good one—at least, so the stories say.

Notable quotes (admittedly I wasn’t looking too hard for them, I could probably find more, but this one stuck out to me at least):

Lloyd: (in thought, scene 1) I have real ability. I have top-grade skill with firearms, intelligence far above that of a common thug, and looks and wit that would make almost any woman weak at the knees! There was no need for someone so superior as I to rely on the assistance of such incompetents!

Plot Summary:

Scene 1

It opens on Lloyd walking through the street at midnight, getting the impression that someone is looking at him from Torcia tower’s third window. He dismisses it, hurrying along as he’s on the run from a “job” (burglar, I think) gone bad thanks to Zepeto (?). He rages over the whole thing a little (though usually a loner the last job was pretty intimidating, so he’d gotten help).

Eventually he reaches a fork in the road, the sign telling him that the right path leads to Lion City’s downtown. He realizes he’s been going in the wrong direction, having intended to go to York City instead, but figures this is just as well.

He wants to get some food, but all of the money he had squirreled away in his hideout was seized by the police.

Scene 2

All the shops and such are dark, being midnight. Lloyd doesn’t have much money on him for good accommodations. Eventually he finds Stella’s Bar still open. He goes inside, intending to take the opportunity to learn more about Lion City.

He’s greeted by Stella, who is the only person inside save for Benji, who soon decides to leave. Stella banters with him a little about his tab before he runs off, and invites Lloyd to sit down. They chat a little. He mentions looking for work.

Apparently the town has fallen on hard times recently (she mentions something called the “daiya keshiki” (diamond scenery I think? I’m not…sure what that means) relating to when the place was prosperous, talking about her own problems with her father and whatnot. She suggests the Chamberlain family might hire him (though they’re having their own troubles), but there’s also Torcia Tower.

They talk a little about Hank and his three daughters. Stella makes clear that they are very rich noble girls, basically (though she’s only met Gibbet). She thinks of it as they might hire him as a servant, but he decides he’s going to burgle them instead (though maybe try to get hired to scope the place out).

Gibbet suddenly enters. Though not well versed on women’s fashion, Lloyd can tell by looking at her that her dress is incredibly expensive.

There’s this nice kind of setup where Lloyd is clearly thinking of her as an easy mark (prey) when in reality he’s going to be prey to her. Anyway, he flirts with her a little (insulting the bar slightly in the process, but Stella doesn’t seem to mind), as a test of how she’ll react. She responds gracefully and happily, sitting next to him. Stella takes the bird cage behind the bar into the back when Gibbet looks at it.

She orders “Blood Grave” wine, the most expensive thing in the bar. Stella tells Gibbet they were talking about her, and Gibbet brings up how people have been spreading rumors of her and her sisters, as ruffians around town have gone missing since they showed up in Torcia Tower. Stella doesn’t believe they’re responsible.

Gibbet claims her sisters came to the tower to cure an illness where they can’t come into contact with sunlight (which is why only she leaves it). They talk about the “Pot of Basuzu” and wraiths and whatnot. She says her sisters are (briefly) cured of their ailment when they drink from the pot.

Lloyd resolves to steal the pot, as it’s obviously valuable. He tries to bring up the subject of being hired, but Gibbet brushes him off. She leaves, but says she’d like to drink with Lloyd again sometime. Stella takes pity on him and suggests an inn that he can stay at on credit for a month while he’s looking for work.

Scene 3

The inn is a bit run down (it doesn’t give a name for it). His room has two beds and little else (and is only really big enough for just those beds), and is sharing the room with Raymond. Raymond is friendly but Lloyd has no interest in making friends. Several days have gone by (it’s been a week since he arrived in town) and Raymond appears to have taken the hint.

While pretending to look for work, he visits Torcia Tower, receiving no answer when he rings the bell. There’s a new lock on the door, though Lloyd figures he can pick it easily. After ruminating on the job a little, Lloyd decides to try to break in that night.

Scene 4

The first floor of the tower is decently bright during the day due to having gaps in the stonework walls. It’s shabbier than Lloyd was expecting, with the front hall and the various rooms hardly feeling lived in, filled with old and smelly furniture. It’s also larger than he thought it would be. No sign that torture’s gone on here. He does find a pot of purplish red flowers that smell nice (Gibbet smelled like that earlier).

On to the second floor. It occurs to him that if he takes the pot of Basuzu, the “sick” sisters won’t be able to cure their illness, but he refuses to care for people he’s never even met. The light of the moon from the third floor comes in through the atrium, like a spotlight, and Lloyd is briefly reminded of his acting days.

Scene 5

He looks around the second floor a little, approaching some of the flowers from earlier. Suddenly the room is filled with light (all the lights come on at once?), and he sees that Gibbet is there in the center. She’s not scared to see him.

They banter a tiny bit, and then he pulls his gun on her. He tells her he’s here for the pot of Basuzu. She offers to give it to him and tell no one that he arrived—but Lloyd doesn’t like loose ends, and so says he’ll kill her anyway (though he’ll do it quickly to spare her pain).

Gibbet then acts confused on the matter of wanting to spare her pain—she says that pain is the greatest joy humans can feel, and starts laughing creepily.

Lloyd is caught—it’s a little hard for me to read exactly what happens (maybe I’m too tired reading this scene, and I don’t recognize the kanji. I’ll look over it again if anyone wants more detail). Something binds him and then hoists him into the air from the atrium (I think he’s in a cage?). Gibbet’s gone.

He realizes he’s been had, remembering what he’d heard about this place being a torture tower. The (cage????) that he’s in starts hurtling towards the ceiling in the third floor, and he loses consciousness right before hitting it.

Scene 6

He’s no longer in the cage thing when he wakes up. He’s laying prone on some weird rectangular box with gears and (a lever I think?), arms and legs aching from the collision with the ceiling and chained to the box. He’s able to look around, in some room in the tower with the same walls as the rest. There’s a large wooden double door further in.

Rack informs him he’s laying on Josephine. Lloyd recognizes her as the girl he saw looking at him from the window all those nights ago. He asks to be let go, and she goes to activate the rack. (Apparently this is her 63rd torture victim, if I’m reading this right?). The way the rack works is that when she spins the gears, it retracts the ropes that are tied to his limbs.

In agony, Lloyd begs for his life, but Rack just finds this funny (she’s very jovial with him, calling him “big brother” and such). He starts to pass out, and she stabs him with a large spike to keep him awake.

Basically, he gets horribly tortured.

Scene 7

Lloyd is eventually released from the device and locked in a cell on the tower’s fourth floor. There’s a young man there already, with stretched limbs covered in wounds. He tells Lloyd that the victims of torture are being used by the girls as sacrifices to appease their god, in order to bring their father back to life.

Maiden comes to bring them their food (so, she does talk—but is a girl of few words). The prisoner says they only feed them enough to keep them alive, and tells Lloyd who the other girls are.

Lloyd has no intention of dying there. He sees that the cell facing them has their effects in it, including his favored pistol. The other prisoner tells him that while many have tried to escape, all were killed. Lloyd has hope though—he doesn’t need to fight them, just not get caught. It’s difficult for him to work the lock due to his pain, but he manages to unlock the cell.

He gets his gun back, and then goes to get the other prisoner with him, rationalizing that he could sacrifice him to escape if need be. The prisoner gets something from his own effects, handing it to Lloyd and explaining it’s from when he used to work in a coal mine, and to use if push came to shove. Then they get going.

Scene 8

They reach the third floor. Several somethings fall from the ceiling—cylindrical metal lumps. They have lids, and look like coffins, but with protrusions that look like a woman’s face (these are iron maidens, pretty sure).

As Lloyd is wondering where the hell these fell from, the other guy starts freaking out, saying they’ve been caught. The maidens are apparently animate, as they float into the air and start attacking the two of them. Lloyd dodges, but the other man is hit and falls to the ground. Lloyd considers using what the man gave him, but figures the confines of the tower are too narrow.

The maiden sets down next to the man and opens up, revealing it’s full of spikes. His body is sucked inside. There’s no screams, but blood starts seeping out after a moment.

Lloyd leaps down the atrium hole to the second floor away from the maidens. One falls down after him. The second floor is bigger, however, and Lloyd brings out what the miner gave him, revealed to be dynamite.

Lloyd is caught in the blast and blown back. It also didn’t work on the maiden. Lloyd gets up, throws up (mostly blood), and falls back down again. Unable to stand, he tries crawling towards the exit, though his eyes have lost focus and he can hardly see.

The iron maiden drops in front of him. It opens to reveal Maiden inside. She gets out to look at him. From behind he hears Gibbet chide Maiden for overdoing it. Rack is with her. Gibbet says that they can’t just kill him—that’s not torture. And torture is to bring someone alive the pleasure of “agony”.

Lloyd intends to curse her as insane, but instead begs for her to let him go. She grabs him by the chin, wondering how he’d sound if she cut his pretty face. Lloyd asks her to spare his face. Gibbet has Rack stab his face with her spike instead.

Scene 9

One month passes. Stella goes to Benji’s hospital to see one of his patients, someone wrapped in bandages and near death. She’d found him three days ago when passing Torcia Tower, and he hasn’t woken up the whole time he’s been in the hospital. His face is pretty much ruined, so not only can they not recognize it, but they can’t imagine anyone else will either.

Raymond is performing in the town square. It’s been six months since he arrived in town, and he’s gotten a small following. At the end of this morning performance, people clap and throw money in his hat. As he’s resting and eating some pizza, he overhears some people gossiping about the person in the hospital and the Torcia Tower (like that it’s haunted, etc).

The narration says that no one knows the truth—Hank had no daughters. Only torture implements that he had loved like daughters.

Raymond muses on souls inhabiting torture devices. Then he stands and goes to perform his afternoon show.

[ergomaria]

Miles to Go Before I Sleep - Ch. 04

"Ah, kriff." Sprinting after his friend, Vann used the packed trails made by the Basilisk to ease his movement through the snow. "Anybody know what the hells is going on!?"

"It's Clan Jendri!" someone called. "They think we know something they don't, and they're attacking!"

"Well, they're not wrong," Vann hissed through clenched teeth.

Another hail of bolts rained down on the camp, mostly centered on the partially hidden cache of weapons and ammunition. Craning his head back to locate the source, Vann ducked between some nearby tents as he aimed his pistol skyward. Through the smoke and the snow, he could just make out the shape of two Basilisk soaring overhead. Pulling the trigger in rapid succession, he fired a series of shots that he subtly guided with the Force. It would have been enough to at least weaken the shields of a similarly sized assault droid, but his attack appeared to have no effect.

"Vann, that won't do kark-all!"

Spotting Canderous beside Clan Ordo's own Basilisk, the Force user rushed over. "Well, what should I do? I'm not about to go and hide in a corner!"

A series of shouts about three meters away alerted both men to the fact that multiple Jendri warriors had breached the camp's perimeter and were attacking anything that moved. More blaster fire rained down from overhead, the red streaks cutting across the white snow.

"We can take them, we're better armed and have more droids. But we need time to prepare!" Canderous was already powering up his Basilisk. "Can you create a distraction?"

Vann glanced down at the blaster in his hands, arching a brow.

"You know what I mean!"

Sighing, Vann holstered the pistol as he mentally traced the lines of his lightsabers hidden within his jacket. "How much of a show do you want?"

"You're probably the wrong person to tell this to, but try to have some discretion."

Clenching his fists, Vann let out a growl of irritation as he turned and ran towards where most of the blaster fire seemed to be centered. Closing his eyes, he drew a slow breath and released the firm hold that he'd been maintaining on his awareness, allowing his presence to flow into the surrounding Force. Though Canderous was fairly sure that none of Clan Ordo were Force-sensitive, Vann had been careful to keep his powers tightly controlled, shielding his mind and camouflaging what he knew was his rather remarkable signature. But not anymore.

With his awareness spreading across the battlefield he could sense the anger and desperation of Clan Ordo, their emotions seeping into the Force as they fought off their rival clan. Drawing that aggression into himself, Vann felt the cold fury surge just beneath his skin until it infused him with frigid power. He knew that his eyes were gleaming a golden yellow as he tugged off his gloves, electricity sizzling across his fingertips. Focusing his gaze on a Basilisk soaring overhead he released the charge, sending a storm of electricity directly at the droid. Circuits burned and steel melted as the purple bolts struck, both machine and rider shrieking as they plummeted out of the sky.

Before his target could land Vann reached out with his mind and pulled, yanking the Mandalorian from their mount and slamming them into the frozen ground before dragging the droid down on top of them. Bone and metal crunched wetly in the snow. Behind him he could hear Clan Ordo rallying, the hot glow of their determination surging through the Force. Skidding between two warriors firing at another Basilisk, he spotted a group of Jendri warriors who were raiding one of the weapon caches. Extending a hand, he wrapped his power around the throat of one thief and squeezed, so focused that he didn't sense incoming danger until a bolt sank deep into his left shoulder. Agony ripped through him as his blood steamed in the cold air.

Whipping around to face his attacker Vann snarled, throwing one enemy Mandalorian at the other with a strong push through the Force. Even as the pair collided with a pained yelp another bolt struck him, this time grazing his thigh. Roaring in both pain and outrage, his fingers twitched as he considered drawing his concealed 'sabers. But he resisted. Canderous wanted discretion, and based on previous conversations he assumed that meant the other man didn't want anyone to think he was a Jedi. Dodging low he seethed quietly as he summoned another burst of lightning, the air around him crackling with ozone.

The second, smaller surge of electricity exploded upward, striking the chest of an enemy Basilisk and frying its gears as sparks coursed across its outer shell. The acrid scent of burning wires filled the air as Vann produced more jagged forks of Force lightning. This time he shortened the bolts, sending smaller bursts of energy into critical points along the droid's hull that he somehow knew were there. Smoke billowed across the sky as the droid began to careen wildly.

Leaping to the side, Vann narrowly avoided a piece of falling debris that crashed to the ground centimeters from where he'd been standing. But he wasn't fast enough to duck between another flurry of bolts and one dug between his ribs. He gasped wetly, landing on his back in the snow as pain clouded his vision and knocked the breath from his lungs. Forced to stare at the sky, he saw the bright burst of engines igniting as Clan Ordo's own Basilisk soared into battle, their six droids now vastly outnumbering the few that Clan Jendri had remaining. Their cannons lit up the night as they fired on the enemy combat units, quickly routing them and forcing a rapid retreat.

A cheer went up throughout the camp as the last of Clan Jendri fled into the darkness, dropping their weapons in surrender before they ran. The Force was alight with pride and joy, and Vann embraced the emotion as he pressed his hands against the fresh wounds that pierced his flesh. He sighed with relief as healing energy drifted through his palms, knitting the skin back together. "Kriffing hells…" he groaned.

The click of a blaster rifle broke through the raucous shouts that were still filling the air. "Don't move," Veela warned as she held her weapon centimeters from the supposed mercenary's face.

Holding up his hands, Vann tried to smile. It felt more like a grimace. "I can explain."

Read the whole chapter on AO3 and FanFiction!

[foofygoldfish]

ALL THE QUESTIONS

The Basics

1. Give their full name, and describe them or post a picture! (Height, build, hair, eye, and skin color, etc.)

Claire Alice Riley! I’m... being lazy... so she looks like a 5′ tall Anya Taylor-Joy with bubblegum pink hair, green eyes, and a shitton of freckles!

2. How old are they?

26 years old at the start of the game, but turns 27 during! i just realised my math is fucked up oops

so i guess 25 turns 26 if she was born in 92

3. Sexuality and gender?

bisexual, cis female!

Pre-Game

1. How did they end up at the Hope County Sheriff’s Department? How long have they worked there?

She moved back after her sister told her that she was thinking of selling their parents house. Whitehorse offered her a job as a dispatch person/office manager, and she pretty quickly filled Danny’s hole in the department. She’s been back in the county for about four months as of the beginning of the game.

2. Relationship with Pratt, Hudson, and Whitehorse?

Pratt is practically family - he’s her brothers childhood best friend, and he quickly steps in as her surrogate brother as soon as she gets back and they realise who the other is. Hudson is protective, but tries to not get too attached, since she’s still mourning over Danny. Whitehorse is also protective, and was the one who convinced her mom to give up custody of her and her brother and send them to their uncle.

3. Do they have an education?

She has a bachelors degree in public relations!

4. Where are they from? Did they speak a different language there?

She was born in Hope County. She’s only fluent in English, though she knows a decent amount of Spanish and Korean, enough to hold a weak conversation.

5. Is there anyone outside the valley that might have come looking for them?

Not really - while she was closet to her brother and uncle, they are all shit at keeping in contact, so they don’t really get worried when Alice stops communicating with them.

6. Did they have a religious background of any kind?

She was raised Catholic, and stopped attending mass when she was in college. She doesn’t really believe anymore, but the traditions comfort her.

Inside Hope County

1. What was going through their head when the helicopter went down and during the subsequent chase?

.... I’m pretty sure it was just “fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck”

2. Were they afraid of Joseph and Eden’s Gate? Angry?

Angry, mostly. She’s hated them ever since her mom joined when they first moved to the county.

3. Did they trust Dutch?

Somewhat. She was very wary, but he seemed to know what was happening, so she listened to him.

4. How did they feel about their team being taken by the cult, did they count them as lost, did they want them back, did they not care?

Alice stayed in Dutch’s bunker for a good day after she woke up, and fully intended on rushing straight for john’s bunker (since it was closest) and then to get sheriff dad and pratt.

5. How did they take to the idea of being part of, if not leading, the resistance?

Not really a fan, honestly. She’ll take the position, and she won’t complain, but it’s tiring to have everyone depending on her.

6. Which companions did they recruit, and who did they travel with the most?

....All of them. She usually has Jess, Grace, and Boomer with her.

7. Did they have time to find romance amidst the chaos? How did they do it?

lololol

she didn’t mean to

but... yep. i’m working on that fic.

8. Feelings about Joseph?

Ugh.

9. Feelings about the other Seeds?

Ugh why are you my brother in law, kinda cute, and uh hello there

10. How did they handle having to kill animals and other humans? Had they done it before?

She likes fishing, but hunting is not her thing. Humans? She froze after she killed someone the first time. She tries not to kill unless she absolutely has no other option.

11. Which canon ending did they choose in-game, and would you have changed the ending at all?

Pffffffff until New Dawn was announced, it was the “it was a hallucination” ending lol. She fights Joseph, yes, but the bombs weren’t real.

Personal

1. Favorite weapon(s)?

Her .50 cal pistol and her knives.

2. Stealth or firepower?

Sealth.

3. How did they spend their time, when not fighting peggies?

Fishing, flirting with Faith, helping Mary May at the Spread Eagle, hunting - basically (minus the flirting) trying to keep some sense of normalcy in Hope County.

4. Where did they live during the events of the game?

Her parents house in Fall’s End! Just behind the auto shop.

5. Any other facts you want to share about your Deputy!

Something like... three people know - in the future, a few years after she and Faith adopt Claire and Caro, they decide to have another kid. In the ND continuity, Pratt is the biological father of little David, and he miiiiight be in the main continuity too? I’m still deciding.