#and all be one angry people who direct our anger in the most currently pressing matters

[2hyperfocused]

We need a new place for left voices.

The right wing propaganda mill has been working tirelessly over the last few years to slowly and single-handedly shift the public view on politics as ‘left=loud’ while also minimising, removing and targeting leftist ideologies. As the right begins to see the shift in young generations' mindsets towards a more progressive and open ideology due to the widening gap in wealth equality, a better understanding of systemic oppression and an Earth dying in real time with no reasonable protection, they also see a direct threat to the current system of oppressive capitalism. 

More and more young people are angry and learning where their anger should be directed while understanding that the current system closes more and more people out each year; instead filling our governments with billionaire allies who fear nothing more than losing out on lobbying money. 

While this inequality has been growing in the background, the internet has been allowing more people to express these thoughts and feelings to a growing audience around the world directly challenging the perception paid for and forged by the Earth’s richest.  

In today's digital age, it's more important than ever for the younger generation to stay informed about current events happening around the world. One most prevalent examples of this in practice is both the rise and fall of Twitter. 

Twitter's town square is a metaphor used to describe the platform's ability to facilitate public conversations and debates. It's a place where people from all over the world can come together to discuss and share information on a wide range of topics. But, following Elon Musk’s takeover, it’s obvious the goal is to change the spotlight. When right-wing extremists shut down the town square, they're essentially silencing important voices and preventing valuable information from being shared.

One of the biggest dangers of shutting down Twitter's town square is that it can lead to a lack of critical thinking among the younger generation. When people are only exposed to one side of an issue, they're less likely to engage in critical thinking and consider alternative perspectives. This can be especially damaging for younger generations, who are still developing their critical thinking skills.

In addition to this, shutting down Twitter's town square can also lead to a lack of empathy and understanding for people from different backgrounds and cultures. When people are only exposed to a narrow range of opinions and viewpoints, they're less likely to understand the experiences of others. This can lead to a lack of empathy and a failure to understand the importance of diversity and inclusion.

Finally, shutting down Twitter's town square can also be dangerous for democracy. When people are unable to engage in public conversations and debates, it becomes easier for those in power to control the narrative and manipulate public opinion. This can be especially dangerous in countries where freedom of speech and the press are already under attack which even a quick look into the press of the wealthiest countries shows a shocking lack of ethics. 

In conclusion, it's important for the younger generation to stay informed about what's happening around the world, and platforms like Twitter play a crucial role in facilitating this. However, when right-wing extremists shut down Twitter's town square, it threatens our ability to engage in critical thinking, understand others' perspectives, and protect democracy. The months following Twitter’s takeover shows this in shocking clarity. The speed at which transphobic rhetoric, Christian fundamentalists ideologies and right-wing politicians have completely taken over what was a seemingly open space to start movements, spread awareness and advocate for the voiceless should be terrifying and should be fought at every opportunity.  

I started this Tumblr because I know how important it is for left-wing voices to remain heard. Remember, the ones who want change always have it the hardest as the people who control every aspect of your life make the most out of the current system and wish to keep it the same or worse for the general public. I hope to start a conversation that will keep the progressive voices heard despite the continuous attacks to silence them and I hope if you are able to, you will join.

[royallyjoon]

nephilim (cinq)

you know where the cred goes 💙

cult au, supernatural creature au

yandere bts x f! reader

warnings: yandere themes, physical assault, graphic descriptions of violence, manipulation, (slight) gaslighting

you were left, abandoned by mortals and immortals alike. darkness knows no bounds, and neither does punishment. there is no refuge in neither blood nor flesh from its wrath. if darkness welcomes you, should you open your arms to it in return? if darkness turns you away, does that mean you’ve won? should you choose to cast aside this lonely path of yours, and your conviction along with it, regardless of whatever other horrors lie in wait, you will be saved. 

——————————————————————

What is one to do when they hear the words they’ve feared the most leave someone else’s mouth?

The moment they graced Jin’s eardrums, he gripped his phone so tightly he could hear the glass screen crack. 

He and Yoongi had been assisting their father in the woods with preparations for the next meeting, the ominous hour approaching in no less than ten days.

He ignored Moonsik and Yoongi for a moment to answer his phone. 

“Hello?”

He could barely make out any of Jimin’s words--the boy’s blubbering masked too much of the information.

“Robotics...bathroom...”

“Jimin, I can’t hear anything over the sound of you crying. What’s going on?”

“(Y/N)...rooftop...Aemilia...”

“What are you trying to say?” Yoongi stopped talking to the older man, shifting his gaze toward his elder brother as he noticed Jin’s voice raise in irritation and concern.

“Blood...”

“Blood?!”

——————————————————————

Jimin had walked out of robotics a little early today, bored to tears.

He had felt much better after getting rid of the idiotic gaggle that dared to threaten you, and threaten him into abandoning you.

He should have known it wouldn’t be enough. He should’ve never left your side, he thought as he kneeled on the rooftop, staring forlornly at the pool of partially dried blood on the concrete.

“She was bleeding, hyung. Aemilia or her people must have taken her, but I have no idea where they went.”

Namjoon had been in the middle of a meeting with the school board, representing the student council.

Hoseok had been in the dance studio, barking orders out at somewhat competent underclassmen.

Jungkook and Taehyung were holed up in the younger’s room, playing games rather than doing any actual work.

In short, none of them were prepared. None of them had been there for you as they had promised.

You trusted them when you needed them most, and they left you high and dry.

Jimin felt like he would never be able to get the disappointment and guilt off of his chest.

——————————————————————

Namjoon bounded into the clearing, his usually polished exterior uncharacteristically tarnished. 

Hoseok appeared not long after him, having raced to the woods the moment he received the news.

They were met by Seokjin and Yoongi, who stood with their arms crossed over their chests, near a miserable Jungkook and a pacing Taehyung. Both boys had been in the house, so they were the first to arrive.

Jimin got there last, his hands and uniform pants stained red from the puddle he had kneeled in on the rooftop.

Six pairs of eyes landed on him and his appearance, confirming the worst.

“Three!” Seokjin cried incredulously. “Three of you were on campus, surrounded by a bunch of humans, and not a single one of you managed to keep an eye on her!”

“She could be anywhere,” Jungkook groaned in fear. 

“By all means, please don’t start caring now. It’s too late.” Yoongi snapped at him. “You and Taehyung drove straight home to do absolutely nothing. You could at least have offered her a ride home and ensured that she was safe. You’re just as responsible as they are.”

Jungkook’s eyes grew glassy, but only because he knew his brother was right. 

“As much as you enjoy playing the blame game, we have more pressing matters to address.” Namjoon interjected in an attempt to calm them down.

“That doesn’t even begin to cover it, Namjoon.” Seokjin’s icy tone sent a chill down their backs. “If we really wanted to play the blame game, we would have recognized how this is all your fault.”

The leader stood in tense silence.

“What did I tell you mere hours before this happened?” He continued, walking toward Namjoon until they were face to face. “I told you to get your shit together and to keep that girl in line. Hell, none of this would have happened if we hadn’t followed your idiotic plan in the first place.”

Seokjin was rarely ever angry enough to hiss in his brother’s face. They had all learned a long time ago that to provoke the oldest was to invoke Death.

“We all agreed his plan was the best choice at the time, hyung.” Yoongi cautiously approached the two and lay a hand on Seokjin’s shoulder, leveling a glare of his own at Namjoon. “We can deal with him later. We need to find her first.”

Jimin took the opportunity to step further into the clearing and brandished his phone, the device still open to his messages. “(Y/N) texted me saying Aemilia invited her up to roof and that she assumed it was for a confrontation of some sort.” 

“Aemilia doesn’t have the ability or strength to do damage like that by herself, though.” Taehyung frowned as he gestured to Jimin’s clothes. “Unless...”

The brothers looked at each other in realization and one by one, rushed out the clearing and out the forest. 

A quick drive to the center of the city and one pitifully short interrogation later, their suspicions were settled.

Hoseok growled as he re-entered the van, slamming the car door shut. “How dare he? When did he gain the courage to mobilize our own forces without our knowledge?”

“Never mind Augustus,” Jimin said, although his eyes blazed with anger. “Where would they take her?”

“That dog wouldn’t have taken her to the normal base, she has far too much malicious intent for (Y/N).” Taehyung growled.

Jungkook lightly tapped his fingers on the car door, looking out the window when the thought hit him.

“You don’t think they’d take her to...?”

His brothers looked at him in confusion, but he pointed out the window at the tree line of the woods. 

Having grown up in those woods, they knew it like the back of their hand. 

They knew the places were young townspeople would go to goof off, the places they had claimed for themselves, and the places that were...strictly off-limits.

It didn’t take much longer for the realization to set in.

Once it had, they took off in the direction of the forest.

——————————————————————

In your dream, you once again stood before Ichabod Chapel.

The Chapel, adorned with green vines, had long since been abandoned. Once, the walls must have been a beautiful ivory, but now they were a dark beige, having rotted with time.

A complete opposite to the image of the decrepit church, the seven Kim brothers stood on the ground in front of the entrance, visions dressed in various black silks.

Contrary to its original purpose, the material looked anything but light and airy--in fact, it looked as though it was weighed down or soaked, doused in some unknown substance.

You looked down to see that you were dressed in a white, ceremonial outfit. It billowed out like a ball gown, the sleeves drawing lacy patterns swirling up to your thumb. 

When you looked up, you were stunned by the brilliant, black wings that extended from the backs of the seven men before you. 

The sight of their wings enraptured you, those gorgeous appendages, feathers glossy under the moonlight.

Each of them had their own, unique set, varying in shapes and sizes, though the largest pair of wings belonged to none other than Kim Namjoon, who stood in the center of his brothers, hands in his pocket as he flashed you a familiar, mischievous grin.

Namjoon was the first to step out of the line, casually extending his hand out to you, and you hesitantly raised a dainty, (s/c) hand in return, placing it in his.

He pulled you into his arms and you felt him wrap them around you.

His brothers came to circle around the two of you, eventually joining the hug as well. 

Then, the whispers began.

Their tone was loving, though their words were anything but.

They were desperate, consuming, obsessive, threatening. 

They wanted you to love them, they needed you to love them, why couldn’t you understand? 

Your head pounded, filled to the brim with cruel promises of tenderness and affection.

The substance from their silks seeped into your clothes, rapidly staining your white outfit red.

You realized just what it was that they were doused in and tried to pull away from their arms but they surrounded you, locking you into their hold. 

The harder you fought to get out, the tighter they held on to you until you felt as though you couldn’t breathe.

Things were better this way. There’s nothing they wouldn’t do to protect you.  There’s nothing they wouldn’t do for your love.

How could you scorn their love for you? How could you treat them like this?

 They didn’t want to hurt anyone you cared about. They didn’t want to eliminate everyone you love in order to bring you to their side, but they would if they had to. 

They paid no mind to the way you were drowning in the smell of it, drowning in blood. Was it yours or someone else’s? Was it your mother’s? Mana’s?

All you knew was that they were done playing games.

——————————————————————

Your eyes flashed open and you winced as you immediately wished they hadn’t.

Your head pounded, each thump forcing your eyes shut with the intensity, still not having recovered from the several hits it received. 

For a moment it felt as though you were still unconscious and drenched in darkness, as when you tried to get a glimpse of your surroundings, you only saw shadows and moving, ambiguous shapes. 

The movement of the ground beneath you, however, quickly dispelled such thoughts. 

It appeared as though you were being carried over someone’s shoulder. Despite the extra weight, the person you currently rested on was light and quick on their feet, moving with a speed that made you feel worse than you already were.

The familiar crunching of leaves and branches on the ground made your heart beat just a bit harder. 

According to their footsteps and what you could see of your surroundings, you surmised they had taken you to the forest.

It had been mid afternoon when Aemilia and the people who worked for her and her family accosted you at the roof. Now, there was barely a hint of the moon in your surroundings.

Did she intend to have her people tie you up to the wooden pyre and set you aflame, like some sick imitation of a witch burning at the stake? Or to make it seem as though the Kims had done it?

Despite how afraid of Mayor Kim the citizens were, there was no way everyone would believe you died in such a gaudy display. 

Only the purple fire that Mayor Kim was capable of conjuring left nothing behind, after all. If they were to going to get rid of you by fire, your remains would be found.

There’s no way you could ensure that, however. 

There’s no guarantee that Aemilia wouldn’t be able to make good on her promise and utterly destroy you.

A light cough broke the silence, bringing you back to the present, and you tried to calm your heartbeat. There’s no way your captors would believe you were asleep if you kept scaring yourself like this.

You felt a tight, scratchy material around your wrists and your hands laying against your back.

You successfully clenched your hands. So they hadn’t drugged you while you were out. 

You were hesitant to shift, as you feared your captors would notice your cognizant state, so you resorted yourself to blinking at the ground and gritting your teeth from the pain and nausea. 

Thankfully, the people you were with appeared to be none the wiser. 

“Are we almost there?” A deep voice, seemingly annoyed, huffed.

“Be patient, Lee.” You felt the vibrations of the person carrying you as they replied. “This isn’t just any other job.” 

“I understand, but don’t you think Miss Augustus is going too far?”

Your captor scoffed. “If you want to question the Augustuses, thereby questioning the Kims and their authority, be my guest. I just hope you and your family will be able to deal with the consequences.”

The second captor, Lee, had nothing else to say after that. 

The quiet of the forest left a buzzing in your ears and the swinging sensation your body was making whilst strewn over the person’s back became too much to bear. 

You figured you’d just make your captor angrier if you barfed down their back and tried to shift to draw their attention, but it was too late. 

The acrid taste of bile and what you had for lunch earlier that day reached your mouth and your lifted your head, spitting out as much of it as you could.

There was a yell of anger and disgust, and your captor shoved you off of them and onto the forest floor. 

You held back a shout as you hit the ground, injuring your side even further, and let out the rest of your meal.

“What the-?! This disgusting bitch!”

Your captor launched another kick at your stomach and you fought back tears as they aggravated the wounds already in place. 

Lee stopped them after a while, complaining that another round of beating would just delay their job even further. 

You wiped your mouth off on your shoulder and grimaced.

To your surprise, you found that you could move your legs.

The first captor lifted you to your feet by your collar, and you recognized him as Mr. Byun, the man the strawberry blonde had referred to earlier. 

“Your legs still work for a reason,” he sneered and pushed you forward.

Your legs did indeed work, but were wobbly after hours of no use. 

You tripped and almost fell to the floor again, the bonds around your wrists preventing you from reaching out to break your fall, when the second captor grabbed you by the back of your shirt and held you up. 

“I’m not really in the mood for any of your foolishness, girl.” Lee glowered down at you. “Use your legs properly, or I’ll break them and drag you by the hair. It would be all too easy.”

You heard a suspicious click and your eyes flickered over to Byun, whose hand rested on his waist. In the other, however, he fiddled with a small lever on what appeared to be a firearm.

“Do you understand?” The second captor shook you and your brain protested, rattling around far too much for its liking. 

The thought of escape, which had been curling up inside you like the beginning of a fire, was quickly extinguished. You squeezed your eyes shut and nodded.

He pushed you away from him and you walked, following him with Byun at your back, trying to think of a way out of this situation.

You couldn’t tamper with the ropes around your wrist, as Byun was watching your every move. There was also the gun, and the fact that both men were trained in the use of it as well as martial arts.

Was there truly no way to escape?

——————————————————————

The three of you walked for what felt like hours, reaching a part of the woods that you had never seen before.

Here, the trees were sparse and had already lost all of their leaves. The dark branches coiled and twisted toward the sky, as if reaching for affection that would never be reciprocated. The stumps were old, the ground hard.

And then, a clearing. But not the one you were used to seeing.

Your heart dropped as you walked between two trees, noticing the view beyond them. 

You could now tell that it was well after midnight, for the sun was nowhere to be seen. Nevertheless, as always, the moon was high in the sky. 

Wylynne gazed down on the clearing with a force, as if the moon goddess wanted you to see bright and clear what awaited you.

The crumbling cliff before you overlooked a tranquil lake. Clouds hung in the distance, obscuring what was undoubtedly the outside world.

The outside of Ichabod.

Such tranquility had no business here, you thought to yourself as the pace of your breathing increased. 

Your captors had brought you to Lorne’s Ledge, also known as the edge of no return.

It was forbidden territory for any Ichabodian citizen.

Even before Mayor Kim came to town, even before the Augustus family had their reign: this was one of the oldest, most sacred spots in Ichabod.

The lady of the cliff, Lorne, saw to it that the forsaken never returned home.

You shuddered. The folklore didn’t scare you in the slightest. It would always be the work of man that you detested. 

Yet, you couldn’t help but feel some foreign, oppressive gaze resting on you now that you were here. As if Lorne herself were staring at you, waiting for you to join her in the watery depths--

That familiar click sounded again and your eyes shot to the side. You tried to slowly turn around, but the press of metal against your back forced you to stop all movement.

Lee smirked. “We have arrived at your final destination, my lady.”

“Miss Augustus was generous enough to leave you with two options. You can walk off and take a nice rest in the lake, or you can die before your body ever hits the water.” The man smiled mirthlessly down at you. “Which would you prefer?”

You blinked rapidly, mind racing. Even if you were capable of swimming, with these injuries, you wouldn’t be able to survive the fall off the ledge, 

They truly meant for you to die.

Lee didn’t seem to be in the mood for your deliberation as his cruel smile slipped into an infuriated frown. “Choose.” He growled. “My friend here would be all too happy to make the choice for you. How does a bullet in your brain and being rolled off the cliff sound?”

Byun dug the weapon into your skin and you winced, shaking your head. 

“I’ll-I’ll go. I’ll walk myself.”

Your voice cracked horribly after not speaking for so many hours, but the message was received. 

The metal was removed from your backside and you sighed in relief.

The man in front of you said nothing, simply stepping out of your path. 

You took a couple more breaths and slowly turned to face him. “C-Can I ask you to do something? As a final request.”

He raised an eyebrow at you in response.

You titled your head in the direction of your back. “Can you untie my hands? After I disappear, there might be a search for me, and someone might try to dig through the lake for my body. A suicide will be completely ruled out if they find the ropes.”

There was no way this would work. Even the Augustuses were too intimidated to bother touching the lake for fear of Lorne’s wrath. 

Besides, the police knew when and where to look, and where to say they looked. They would lie to your friends and family through their teeth.

Lee must not have been on the force for very long, however, because he grunted and pulled your hands to him. 

With a slice, the ropes fell to the ground and you clutched your wrists to your chest, nodding partly in thanks and partly in disbelief.

It...worked.

You rubbed your hands together and gently blew on them, fingers numb from the cold breeze. 

Your captors stood together between the trees, blocking the entrance. They murmured quietly to themselves and you continued to morph your face and body expressions into one of a pitiful teenager about to die, concealing the rather reckless thoughts you were having.

You finally turned around and walked back until you were in front of them, catching the two men off guard. They quieted and stared at you, hands at their weapons. 

You met each of them in the eye and bowed, lower than you ever had before, then stood upright.

They looked at you incredulously, giving you just enough time to give Lee a harsh kick between his legs and pry the knife out of his hand.

You slashed at his neck, adrenaline returning full force, and actually managed to cut the man. 

He shouted in pain and brought a hand up to the wound, trying to stop the blood.

Before you could turn to face Byun, however, the loud crack of a gunshot was heard throughout the forest and you felt a painful sting on your hand. 

You yelped as you dropped the knife.

Then, there was a second gunshot and the pain returned full force, this time on your shoulder.

The elder captor, completely fed up with your actions, slammed the gun against your head and you crumpled to the ground. 

You could feel something wet on your hand and clothes, but there was too much of it to be sweat in the midnight chill. You slowly lifted your hand, only to see it covered in a dark liquid.

Byun restrained Lee from attempting to beat you this time, barely casting a glance at your pitiful form. 

“Calm yourself. She won’t be alive for much longer.” He gruffed. “She said she would walk herself, so walk she will. We’re just here to watch and make sure it happens.”

He stood over your form and pointed the gun at your head. “What a useless attempt. Get up.”

Your shoulder and hand burned like hell, but you complied. 

You got to your feet once more and stumbled forward, every step taking you further and further away from the two. 

The barrel of the gun followed your every move.

The tears you’d been struggling to hold back ran full force now at the thought of your imminent death. But rather than let your captors feast upon the sight of your defeated form, you stopped.

You were covered in blood. Your uniform was sullied by your own vomit and dirt. 

But you straightened your back, ignoring the pain in your shoulder, and held your head up high. 

You had reached the edge of the cliff now, but your vision was too blurry to see anything besides the vast blue beneath you. 

The lake that rested below had no warmth or safety to provide for you, but neither did the forest behind you.

You considered praying to Wylynne to see if, in all her majesty and grace, she would save you.

Yet clearly, just like all the people who had come before you, just like the lady of the lake herself, the moon goddess had forsaken you.

You were tired. Too tired to fight against what some would call fate.

You whispered an apology to your mother and Mana, and perhaps even to the brothers, the reason why, you did not know.

Your eyes captured the overcast image of the outside world one last time, then you turned around and took a backward step off the cliff with a sad smile, eyes falling closed, mentally locked on that solitary picture.

Above you, you thought you heard the pained screams and grunts of your captors, sounding as though they were struggling against something or someone. 

But before you, you saw your mother with her arms outstretched, that patient, loving smile on her face. 

You reached forward, wrapped your arms around her, and readily slipped into darkness.

Above your falling form, a shadow zipped through the dawn, racing to reach you before you hit the water. 

He saw you smile and lift an arm into the air, before the smile slipped off your face and your limbs went limp.

The large, black wings at his back beat furiously and he flew faster than he ever had before until he had your beaten form cradled to his chest. 

The two of you suddenly shot upward into the air as your descent slowed, and as the first rays of daylight peeked out from above the clouds, his form hung in the air, almost frozen in time, black wings outstretched and supporting the two of you as he floated above Lorne’s Ledge. 

Kim Jimin hovered, adorned in the light of the early morning sun, peering callously down at the vermin who lay trembling between him and his brothers. 

Or what was left of them, at least.

Jungkook had managed to get his hands on the elder one, and the arm he had been using to carry the gun had been ripped clean off. 

He was now whimpering in excruciating pain, clutching at the place where his limb had once been.

The younger one, on the other hand, lay resting against a tree. 

Unmoving, his eyes unseeing. 

All it had taken was one touch from Hoseok, and the man’s life force was gone, sucked out of him before he could even protest.

He was now nothing more than a lifeless sack of meat.

Taehyung picked up the body as Yoongi kicked one of the elder’s legs to get his attention.

The others stood threateningly over Byun, glowering down at him in utter loathe, as though he were a louse.

The old man whimpered, looking up and between them, then paling in horror as he saw Taehyung and Jimin.

The younger brother walked toward the elder as Jimin gently touched down on the ground, your form still protectively pressed to him. The two Kims met eyes and nodded at each other.

Taehyung turned around and flashed Mr. Byun a crazed smile before flinging Lee’s body as far as he could over the cliff.

He gaped in horror and his voice rose multiple decibels, pleads for his life escaping before he could properly think them through.

Seokjin squatted down until he was at an eye level with him, strong, black wings threateningly displayed. He grinned. 

“If you think you have even any hope of escaping your friend’s fate,” he said as the smile slipped off his face, “you’re dead wrong.”

He glared at Byun with cold, amber irises. “But before we end your insignificant, paltry life, you’re going to tell us who sent you and why.”

They already had proof of Aemilia’s crime from Aloysius Augustus himself but they wanted to be sure.

He looked at the younger gentlemen with tears in his eyes. He fought through his pain and got on both knees.

“There’s no use in begging,” Namjoon stated, arms crossed over his chest. For the first time, he couldn’t find anything amusing in the matter.

“Please! We were only receiving orders, Miss Augustus--”

Before he could finish his sentence, Yoongi used Lee’s discarded knife and slashed it across Byun’s neck, silencing him in an instant. 

The light left his eyes and the man’s body flopped over.

Taehyung didn’t think twice about kicking him off the cliff, either.

Now that those pests were taken care of, the seven rushed to turn their attention on you. 

The bleeding from your shoulder and hand had not slowed in the slightest, and they could hardly feel your pulse.

“We need to get her to the hospital, and fast.” Hoseok said, swallowing the rising lump in his throat.

“I’m the fastest. I can take her there.” Taehyung volunteered.

The brothers agreed, and you were gently deposited into Taehyung’s arms. 

“When you’re sure she’s safe, meet us back here in the woods,” Yoongi said. “You’ll know where to find us.”

"Yes, hyung.” Taehyung spread his wings and took off into the sky.

He carefully cradled you, shifting your body into one of his arms, and attempted to heal some of your worse injuries along the way.

He pressed one hand to your abdomen and began muttering under his breath, a panicked tear slipping out the corner of his eye as he peered at the extent of the damage.

Once your ribs were mostly healed, he pulled his hand away, leaving behind a canvas of dark blue, yellow, and green bruises. He winced and moved on, pressing his hand to your head.

You made no movements, body as limp as ever in his arms. 

Taehyung touched down on the roof of the hospital and tucked those magnificent, black wings together, the appendages fading away as if they were never there. 

He held his arm out, his palm facing the door. He only meant to unlock it, but utterly destroyed it in his haste. Quite frankly, he couldn’t have cared less. 

He hurriedly walked down the stairwell and burst into the hospital’s eleventh floor lobby, reserved for VIP care and treatment. 

A receptionist was working at the front desk, typing away without a care in the world.

He was interrupted by Taehyung’s shouts. “I found her in the woods outside of our home this morning--she’s badly injured, please help!”

He looked up at the boy’s outburst, eyes widening when he realized just who and what he was looking at.

He immediately called for available nurses to bring a bed and admit you to a room, then paged any available doctors.

“Do you know who she is, Mr. Kim?” A nurse asked as she examined you for damage.

He nodded. “She’s a classmate of mine, her name is (Y/N) (L/N). Her mother also works here--please notify her of her daughter’s arrival.”

The man nodded once more, sending someone else to page Nurse (L/N) from the fifth floor.

As the nurses wheeled you away, Taehyung grabbed the receptionist by the wrist and he whipped around in fear.

“This patient is very important,” Taehyung stressed, squeezing the man’s wrist harshly. “She is being admitted under the protection of Kim Moonsik himself, at the behest of our entire family. If anything happens to her...”

The receptionist gulped and nodded. “Of course, Mr. Kim. You don’t need to explain any further. We’ll do our absolute best to ensure her care and recovery.”

Taehyung glared down at him for a bit longer before he threw the man’s wrist aside and turned away from him. 

He rubbed at his wrist, knowing it would bruise in a couple of hours, or perhaps even minutes.

The man returned to his desk, beginning to fill out the paperwork for your stay. 

When he looked up to ask Taehyung more questions about your injuries, the boy had already disappeared.

——————————————————————

In Taehyung’s absence, the six brothers stretched out their wings and flew to a certain section of the woods behind the Kim family home. 

This part of the woods remained untouched by both the Kim family and the general public. It was only the seven who came out here, and only in times of dire consequence. 

Several trees in the area had fallen over, cracked in half as though hit or pushed in anger with some spectacular force.

Leaves and branches strewn all over the ground were blown away by the boys and the sudden breeze they brought, large wings disrupting the peaceful quiet of the forest.

The early morning sun peeked through the leaves, painting a picturesque view of the woods, a sharp contrast to the heavy, violent atmosphere headed its way.

Jungkook planted his feet on the ground first, tucking away his wings until they were out of sight. He angrily flicked what was left of Byun off his face, disgusted by the thick feel and metallic smell of mortal blood. 

Jimin followed right behind him, then Hoseok, Yoongi, and Seokjin entered, Namjoon being the last to touch down on the forest floor.

Jimin and Jungkook met eyes with one another, their anger not even close to subsiding at the death of your captors. 

Yet, soon enough, curiosity and dread brought them out of their rage when they realized just how quiet it had gotten between the older members.

Jimin shifted his gaze, the frown on his face deepening when he saw the eldest brothers’ attention turn to Namjoon, who was standing deathly still, staring blankly ahead.

Seokjin raised an eyebrow as he glared down at the younger. Namjoon refused to meet his gaze.

The six of them stayed like that for a long time, even when they heard the loud beating of another pair of wings, and Taehyung joined them in the forest.

He turned to Jimin in confusion but the older simply shook his head and grabbed for his and Jungkook’s hands, squeezing them. 

Finally, after what felt like hours of silence, Seokjin spoke. 

“There is no mercy for the prideful,” he stated with finality.

Namjoon flinched away at the words, eyes stuck to the ground.

“You weren’t able to uphold your oath, Namjoon ah,” Hoseok said. His words were concerned, but his tone reeked of condescension.

“And because of that, because of your utter failure, our beloved angel got hurt.” Yoongi hissed. “She almost died.”

Hoseok, Yoongi, and Seokjin took menacing steps toward the leader. 

He heard his older brothers walking up to him, but refused to meet the wrath that was surely boiling in their gaze.

Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook watched on with bated breath, their hands still linked together.

Namjoon was frozen in place. 

As the leader of their group, there was rarely ever a moment where he was seen as weak. 

But the second he had received news of your capture, he lost even the strength to stand on his own two feet.

It was the thought of you, of saving you and bringing you to safety, that had kept him going. 

It was the only thing that had kept all seven of them sane.

Now that they knew you were going to live, he knew he couldn’t avoid his punishment any longer.

Namjoon’s facial expression didn’t change, even in the moment where, with surprising speed, Yoongi lashed out at him, decking him in the face and knocking him to the forest floor.

The student body president winced, gingerly gripping his nose as blood started to leak from it.

His older brothers stood, looking down at him in a mock semicircle.

“Yoongi ah,” Seokjin said, turning to the younger, “what is the punishment for those who commit the deadly sin of pride?”

“Being broken on the wheel, hyung.” Yoongi replied impassively. 

“Fortunately for you, or unfortunately, I should say,” Hoseok grinned down at Namjoon, “we don’t have a wheel.”

Seokjin stepped forward and lifted his foot above Namjoon’s right leg. 

“This is what happens when you place too much pride in yourself and in your actions.” He stated, then brought his foot down on Namjoon’s right leg.

He didn’t let up until there was a sick, audible crack. 

Namjoon reeled back, grunting in pain but refusing to scream. 

Yes, it hurt, but he knew he deserved it. He failed (Y/N). 

This is the least he could do to atone for his actions.

“All things considered, we’re being quite generous with you.” Yoongi stepped up next, kicking his broken leg aside to stomp down on his left one.

This time, Namjoon let out a jarring scream. 

“You still have the audacity to scream? To feel pain?” Yoongi ground his foot into the injury as though he were trying to put out a cigarette. “Imagine how much pain our beloved is in right now. Imagine what she wouldn’t have had to go through, had you done your job properly. Had you listened to us.”

The elder had never been kind or considerate when it came to delivering punishment, a fact that the younger brothers had quickly become accustomed to.

Taehyung, Jimin, and Jungkook looked on blankly, but inside they felt a deep sense of pity. 

Namjoon was their brother and their leader, the constant face of their strength.

It hurt to see him in so much pain, no matter how necessary it was. 

Namjoon sat on the forest floor, both legs twisted at an awkward angle. He grit his teeth together as he tried to control his breathing. 

He noticed no one else was approaching him, but he knew that the punishment wasn’t over yet, not so soon. He slowly, inquisitively lifted his head.

The eldest three looked at Namjoon expectedly. He pleadingly raised his eyebrows, but their stares held no mercy.

He bowed his head in defeat. 

The senior wrapped his right hand around his left forearm and squeezed until he heard something crack. 

There was the quick, soft sound of a sob coming out of his mouth, and then all was quiet. 

Hoseok went last, shuffling through the leaves on the forest floor to squat next to his younger brother, wiping away some of his tears and gently running his fingers through his hair. “We’re doing this for her. Everything we do is for her, you know that as well as we do.”

Namjoon glanced at him warily, tense because he knew what was coming next, but didn’t know when to expect it. 

“That’s why you’re prepared to face the consequences for your actions, yes...?”

With a sickeningly sweet smile, Hoseok wrapped his hands around Namjoon’s right forearm, breaking the bone in a quick moment.

Namjoon clenched his teeth together so hard, he swore he heard something else crack. 

Any movement within the top or lower half of his body left him in excruciating pain, and he stifled a scream each time.

“You did so well, Joonie.” Hoseok continued patting his head. 

They surrounded him, praising him with how well he took his punishment. 

He was only able to withstand a few more minutes of cognizant thought before his eyes rolled back into his head.

Hoseok caught his younger brother, gently laying him back onto the dirt.

The six men stood in the silence, staring at the form of their treasured leader with pity. 

Seokjin turned around and met each of his younger brothers in the eye. He then wordlessly walked away from the clearing and Namjoon’s broken body.

Yoongi and Hoseok followed him, blank expressions on their face.

The youngest brothers were all too quick to pick up on the message. 

Overstep your boundaries, and endure the same fate. 

After taking one more look at Namjoon, the youngest brothers trekked out of the forest, silently following behind the other angels.

——————————————————————

When you finally pried your eyes open, you were greeted by an unfamiliar chill.

You were cold. So cold, the chill settled uncomfortably in your bones.

White blankets were tucked around you, pristine sheets morphing to mimic your form. 

For a moment, you incredulously thought that this must have been your arrival to heaven.

Then, you soon heard a monotonous beeping and you felt the subtle prick of wires along your skin, an IV casually grazing across the back of your hand. 

It hurt to move your right shoulder, and your abdomen ached, the areas bandaged so tight you could just barely feel them. 

There were bandages around your wrists and hand as well, and the pungent scent of ointment told you those were for your rope burns and bullet graze. 

Your head injuries were also wrapped, if you deduced the source of your current headache correctly. 

You were alive. Alive, and well taken care of.

“(Y/N)?”

You winced, your head not taking too kindly to the reintroduction of noise. A swivel to your right, however, and your mother’s worried face appeared.

“...Mom?” You voice cracked horribly, and she smiled and hummed in acknowledgement, lifting a water pitcher next to her and pouring you a glass of water.

You drank as if you were Tantalus himself.

“I was so worried.” your mother stated, her voice breaking right along with yours. The sound alone nearly brought tears to your eyes. 

She lifted her hands and grasped your uninjured one, intertwining your fingers.

 “I got paged yesterday morning and asked to come up to the eleventh floor, just to find out that you had been admitted.” Your mother spoke, answering your questions before you even got the chance to ask. “And at the request of the entire Kim family, no less. Kim Taehyung brought you in himself, claiming you’d been assaulted and found outside their door.”

You tilted your head, peering at your mother in disbelief. 

She met your gaze and flicked her eyes toward the door, then back towards you without turning around. You followed their direction.

Outside the small, rectangular window of the door, there stood a tall figure dressed in dark clothing.

Your mother leaned toward you and whispered. “That woman has been standing guard since the doctors finished their checkup.”

You gulped and nodded in understanding.

“(Y/N).” Her tone shifted slightly, still holding concern but taking a solemn turn. “I never ask you questions about how school is and your life is going. We usually leave each other to our own devices, and that’s clearly been a mistake on my part. But I need you to be completely honest with me here.”

“Have you displeased the Kims in any way?” Her grip on your uninjured hand tightened to the point where all of your knuckles turned white. “If they have you here under some sort of watch until the next meeting...if they’re trying to...” 

Your mother gulped, unable to finish the rest of the sentence. 

Her voice lowered into a harsh whisper. “Tell me. I’ll go alert a trustworthy coworker, and I will have you out of this town before Kim Moonsik can utter another prayer.”

Your eyes widened comically. “Mom, no! Nothing like that happened. They saved me. The Kims saved my life.” You repeated, gripping her hands. “If they hadn’t brought me here, I would have-” 

The weight of your words finally hit you, and before you could realize, tears gathered in the corner of your eyes. “I could have...”

You fought to speak through the trembling of your lower lip. “I’m sorry I never told you about my day, I just thought I’d be able to handle it all by myself. The police commissioner’s daughter, she was trying to get rid of me and she-Mom, she-”

Your mother cupped your cheeks as your tears cascaded down your face. She gently rubbed your lower back as you muffled your cries by burying your head into her neck.

She didn’t let you go for a while, even after you managed to collect yourself. 

She poured you another glass of water and you sipped at the beverage, telling her the trials you’d faced these past couple of weeks.

“I thought it was a regular instance of bullying,” you sniffled, putting the plastic cup down. “that she didn’t want me getting too close to her crush. So I endured because I had no intention of taking anything of hers away. Who am I, in Ichabod, compared to a woman of prestige like that?” You sarcastically asked.

“But apparently, my mere existence bothered her.” You shakily recounted what had ultimately been the most terrifying moments of your life to your mother. 

You obscured some parts of the story, not wanting your mother to worry even more, and claimed that the Augustus’ men had taken you to the clearing to scare you and beat you up, and that you surmised they dropped you off outside of the Kim home afterward. 

By the time she finished hearing the whole story, her grip had embedded itself into the edge of the hospital bed. 

Your mother’s vexation was interrupted by the sound of people speaking outside your door.

“Ma’am, I apologize. By the order of Kim Moonsik, only family members are allowed to visit the patient right now.” The figure outside your door spoke with an uninterested tone.

“With all due respect, officer, please don’t assume my gender.” You heard a familiar voice snipe. “My best friend is lying in there and she’s practically a sister to me. I don’t particularly give a damn about your order. Kim Moonsik can kiss my-”

“Mana!” You yelled, trying to catch both of their attention before your best friend could get themselves arrested. 

You flipped the hospital blankets off of you and your mother helped you to your feet, then to the door. The injuries on your abdomen and head protested with every step.

The guard’s eyes widened a bit as you slid the door open, and so did the eyes of every hospital staff within sight of your room. 

“Ms. (L/N), I implore you, please go back to bed to rest!” A nurse in the hallway rushed over. 

The guard hastily nodded in agreement. “Yes, please do. I sincerely apologize for the commotion.”

You waved them off, reaching a hand out to Mana. “I'll go back to bed, but only if you let Mana in. They’re family.”

Mana stood in the hallway, hurriedly dressed in sweatpants, a disheveled oversized hoodie, and sneakers, but gingerly holding a teddy bear with a card.

The guard looked between you, Mana, and the nurse for quite some time. The nurse’s frantic expression must have convinced her, though, because she finally stepped aside.

Mana extended their arm, gently grabbing your hand in return and waltzing past the security guard with a smug expression. 

The moment the three of you were back in the room, however, they ushered you back to bed as well.

“(N/N)!” Mana said, going to hug you, then rethinking it when they spotted all the bandages. 

They placed the teddy bear in your arms and stood a card that cheerily read “Get Well Soon!” on your nightstand. “How are you feeling? I’m so sorry--I should have been there with you!”

“My head and chest hurt, but I’m alright.” You shook your head with a small smile, clutching the doll to your chest. “Don’t apologize, you had no idea this was going to happen. This was all the result of my stupid decision--I was the one who fell into her trap.”

Your mother excused herself, leaving you and Mana alone for a few minutes.

You filled them in on what had happened to you, withholding no details, and their face lit up in anger. “She ordered them to take you to Lorne’s Ledge?! That psychotic cunt! Just wait until I drag her across the square, we’ll see how high and mighty she is then-”

“Mana, calm down.” You smiled, thankful for your friend’s protectiveness, but weary after everything you’d just gone through. 

“I never want to stoop to her level,” you admitted, wringing the sheets in your hands. 

Your mother gently slid open the door, returning with water and a tray of food for you.

“I think...I’ve had enough of mind games and tricks for a while.” You whispered, then smiled at her as she lay the meal in front of you.

Mana’s gaze turned soft, and they patted your hands and back in support. 

“I don’t even want to think of what would have happened if the Kims hadn’t gotten there in time.” your mother muttered. 

You nodded in agreement. 

You weren’t particularly sure how or why, but the Kims had saved your life. 

Not only had they offered you some of the best care in the city, free of charge, but they even stationed people outside your room.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, something told you that holding them with such a mindset would put you exactly where they wanted you to be. 

Yet something else countered that thought, claiming that it was that same distancing mindset that had pushed you into the arms of danger in the first place. 

Perhaps Mayor Kim felt responsible for it because his men got usurped by a high school girl.

Or, perhaps, it was his sons who felt even more responsible.

Your mother and Mana stayed with you the rest of the night, each taking up their own positions on the furniture. Mana draped themself on the couch while your mother took the armchair.

You allowed yourself to drift off to the sound of them breathing, the chill and fear of the previous morning now a distant, foreign thing.

——————————————————————

Your mother and Mana weren’t constantly at your side, as one had to attend to her duties at work and the other had to go to school. 

There were other individuals who were perfectly happy to waste the day with you, though.

On the first day, you were visited by Jimin.

The sophomore’s usual high-energy self was nowhere to be seen as he stepped into your hospital room holding a small bouquet of (your favorite flowers). 

Jimin rushed at you, barely giving himself enough time to greet him before he fell to his knees in front of your hospital bed. 

You gasped aloud in surprise and urged him to stand, but he would have none of it. 

“I’m so sorry, (Y/N).” His eyes glistened as water streaked down his cherubic face. “If I had read your message earlier, if I hadn’t been so stupid to turn my phone off, you never would have gotten hurt like this.”

You winced as you pulled yourself to the edge of the bed, your hand only hurting slightly less than it had before. “You didn’t know at the time, I wouldn’t blame you for that. When you did know, you rushed to help me. That’s something I will be forever grateful to you for.” 

You exhaled and smiled your rare, genuine smile, a warm countenance on your face that pierced Jimin’s soul. “So please,” you held your hand out to Jimin.

The boy looked up, pitiful expression morphing into a delighted smile. He gently took your hand and stood, then ushered you to rest comfortably back at the top of the bed. 

The two of you spent the rest of the day talking, Jimin distracting you from your current situation with stories about his family and their travels. 

By the time you realized you’d never gotten answers to your questions, the sun was starting to set and you were having trouble keeping your eyes open in the middle of Jimin’s conversation.

If the raven haired boy had noticed it, he didn’t say anything. 

If anything, he continued speaking, his voice low and chiming with laughter as he recounted precious memories.

When he heard the familiar sound of your soft, slow breathing, he stopped. He simply gazed upon your visage, smiling at the way your (s/c) skin lit up in the afternoon sun and held a hand up to block the light from getting in your eyes.

He stayed that way for the next several minutes, then gently caressed your cheek, letting his hands linger for shorter than he would have liked.

Once the night was well underway, Jimin collected his things and left your side with one more forlorn look.

He shot a strict gaze at the guard, who gulped and nodded at the unspoken order.

Finally, he turned and walked down the hallway toward the elevators. 

——————————————————————

On the second day, you were visited by Taehyung. You were still asleep when he first came into the room, but your mother was sitting beside you and her eyes widened when she saw him.

Before the younger boy could even speak, the older woman bowed low in gratitude.

Few people had ever seen your mother in a vulnerable state, you included, as she purposefully made it so. 

Taehyung was a rare exception that day as he gently gripped her shoulders, feeling the slight trembles that coursed through her as he straightened her posture. 

Suppressing an amused smile, Taehyung thought of the differences between you and his supposed mother. 

While the actress trembled out of fear for her own life, your mother shook at the thought of losing you.

As expected from the woman who raised you, their perfect treasure.

“I can never repay you for the hospitality you’ve shown my daughter,” your mother whispered.

“There’s no need for such matters, Ms. (L/N). We’ll always protect and watch out for your daughter. We’re honored to have her in our lives.” Taehyung replied with a sincere tone.

She accepted the flowers he brought, carefully laying the bouquet on your nightstand, right next to the vase where Jimin’s flowers lay. 

When you did wake up, you had your own chance to thank Taehyung for finding you and bringing you to safety, along with sponsoring your stay in the hospital. 

He waved away your thanks, claiming that he was simply glad that you had turned to Jimin for assistance so that they were able to know about it.

“You know we’ll always be there for you, right (Y/N)?”

Always.

“Just say the word and we’ll come running.”

We love you.

His heart ached with the weight of the words he couldn’t say.

But you smiled in appreciation and he melted, as it was the smile they had longed to see for so long. The one that you usually reserved for your mother or Mana, the one that they had only gotten glimpses of in the time that they had known you.

He wouldn’t let you do anything for yourself the entire time, claiming you needed to rest up and heal as soon as possible. You reluctantly agreed, enjoying an unusually lazy day.

He played music for you, and soon enough the two of you were lost in a passionate conversation about your favorite artists. Funnily enough, there were several of them who you shared interest in.

Before Taehyung returned home for the day, he insisted on covering you with the blanket as well, tucking it up to your neck and pressing it in at the sides.

Your eyes were closed out of embarrassment as his form hung over yours. 

He fought the urge to bend down and kiss your forehead, for he still feared that he could frighten you away.

Instead, he reached up and switched off the light directly above your bed. With an ambiguous smile, he left, closing the door behind him.

——————————————————————

On the third day, you were visited by Jungkook.

The atmosphere was a little awkward at first, considering how soft-spoken the freshman tended to be around you.

When you tried shifting the conversation by asking him about his personal interests and passions, however, his eyes lit up.

Jungkook demonstrated several different types of punches for you in the room, even helping you weakly set up your form with your still healing hands. 

You learned much more about boxing forms and gaming techniques that day than you could ever remember, but you did leave with plans to have private self-defense lessons with Jungkook after you’d finished healing.

At some point during his visit, you had drifted off and by the time you woke up again, Jungkook was already gone. 

You panicked slightly, worried that he’d be upset and think that you wanted him to leave. As you turned to your phone, however, you noticed a folded piece of paper resting on top of the back of it.

When you opened the paper, you saw a beautiful pen-and-ink sketch of you, lying in your hospital bed and napping. 

Jungkook had somehow taken your messy, disheveled state and turned it into something that evoked a tender feeling within you.

You grinned down at the paper, amazed by his talent. Was this how he saw you? As this...ephemeral, peaceful being?

You gently stood the paper up so that it rested between the two vases that housed Jimin and Taehyung’s flowers, right next to Mana’s card.

The afternoon soon gave way to evening, then evening to night.

——————————————————————

On the fourth day, Seokjin saved you from the monotony of bland, hospital food by bringing you home cooked meals. 

The mere smell of the dishes had your mouth watering. 

He refused to let you do anything yourself, much like Taehyung had the other day. But unlike Taehyung, Jin went so far as to feed you himself.

It was embarrassing, but no matter how much you protested, he wouldn’t let up.

He sat in the chair your mother usually preoccupied and held the utensils out to you, neatly making sure you finished your meals.

At one point, he pretended the food was an airplane and you playfully slapped his arm, resulting in him dissolving into a surprising windshield-wiper-like laugh. 

Jin spent the rest of the day with you, telling you awful jokes that under normal circumstances, you wouldn’t have found that funny. 

His companionship was greatly appreciated, however, and you found that you grew surprisingly fond of his laugh.

Before Jin left for the evening, he gently lifted your hand and placed it in his lap, then revealed another bag he’d brought on his visit.

To your surprise, he clipped a small (silver/gold/rose gold) bracelet around your wrist. The ornament carried two charms: one of a well-detailed moon, the other a pair of angel wings.

You rushed to have him take the bracelet off, hesitant to accept such a valuable gift. 

Yet the look in his eyes pierced right through you, his previous joy still present and glimmering but hidden beneath the depths of something more sinister.

You leaned against your pillows as Jin gently lifted the back of your hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to it, just like he had the first night you met. 

“The moment I saw it, I thought of you.” He smiled, affectionately rubbing his thumb over your wrist. “Keep it. For me?”

It wasn’t a request.

——————————————————————

On the fifth day, you were visited by Hoseok and Yoongi.

You were slightly surprised at the fact that they had come together, as their outer attitudes seemed to be opposites, but you found that they complemented each other very well. 

They were extremely considerate of you, allowing you to do things for yourself but offering their assistance should you need it. 

Hoseok spent the day cheering you up by performing routines for you in the little space the room provided.

As strict as he was infamous for being, Hoseok clearly knew his craft. You were mesmerized by his movements and insisted on clapping for each of his performances, your hand healing quite nicely now.

Yoongi delighted you with tales of his rambunctious actions in high school, and some of the best well-kept faculty secrets.

There were several things you learned about Ms. Divii and Mrs. Hargrove that day that you would have been perfectly happy not knowing for the rest of your life, but you giggled and gossiped all the same.

It appeared as though the elder Kim brothers had a similar thought process, as Hoseok and Yoongi each gifted you (silver/gold/rose gold) jewelry similar to what you had received the day prior.

Hoseok looked as though we was going to cry when you went to turn down his gift.

One sharp look from Yoongi later, you closed your mouth, smiled, and expressed your thanks.

Hoseok fondly clipped the necklace onto you, his heart performing somersaults as you leaned into his embrace. 

He silently gulped, overcome by the sudden desire to press his lips to your neck. 

When he made eye contact with Yoongi over your shoulder, his face reddened slightly as the elder smirked at him.

He reigned in the perceptible want in his eyes and leaned back, flashing you his signature smile. “There you are, angel. Pretty as a picture.”

You lowered your head to hide your flush. “You guys really don’t have to bring me these gifts,” you murmured lightly. 

“With a visage as perfect as yours, we simply can’t help ourselves.” Yoongi stated in reply, lifting your ring finger to slide a band onto it. 

How unfortunate it was that it was the right hand instead of the left.

He was able to hide his disappointment from you, but not from Hoseok. 

Nevertheless, there would surely be an opportunity in the near future.

How else would all of those worthless people know that you belonged to them?

——————————————————————

On the sixth day, Namjoon limped his way into your hospital room, a grimace on his face. 

You greeted him with a warm smile that quickly shifted into a worried expression. “Oh goodness, are you alright?”

Namjoon nodded, taking the seat next to your bed. “I injured my leg, it’s nothing serious. I should be perfectly alright soon.”

Seokjin had been kind enough to heal most of his limbs, the elder worried about your reaction to seeing him in such a state. 

They purposefully made him wait in agonizing pain for nearly a week, however, to rub the punishment in, before clearing him to go visit you. 

It seemed as though the student body president had lost his usual self-assured, constantly amused atmosphere. He was strangely quiet, and his body language was similar to that of a man who’d been beaten into submission. 

That was far from the Kim Namjoon you knew.

For several moments, the two of you sat in awkward silence.

The two of you hadn’t been on the best of terms the last time you spoke. Just thinking back to that moment when he’d felt like he was on top of the world, completely in control, made him cringe. 

Then, you turned and smiled at him. “You know, if you really need to, you could always join me as a patient. It’d definitely make the days less boring.”

Namjoon knew you knew there was a change in his attitude, and rather than lording that over him, you simply welcomed him as you usually did.

“I’m so sorry, (Y/N).” The words blurt out before he could stop them.

You shook your head, slightly amused. “What’s with you and Jimin these days? You don’t need to apologize for saving me. Unless you want to, and, well, that’s a completely separate manner--”

“No!” Namjoon lifted his hands up and waved them around. “I just-"

You smiled, entertained by the frantic side of the normally suave, composed teen. “Think nothing of it, Namjoon. You have nothing you need to apologize to me for.”

Your expression darkened slightly as you continued. “If anything, I should apologize for not trusting you all more.”

Namjoon’s lips quivered, desperately wanting to form a victorious smirk, but he settled for an understanding smile.

In the end, he’d been right.

As usual.

“Who remains close to you, who you decide to trust, that’s completely your decision. You should never have to apologize for it.” Namjoon said.

You smiled in acknowledgement, then furrowed your brows in confusion when Namjoon started to dig around in his bag.

“I heard we were gift giving this week.” He pulled out a beautiful, leather bound journal and fountain pen and carefully placed the items on your lap. 

“This is absolutely gorgeous. How did you know I like writing?” You smiled. 

Of course he knew. He knew everything about you.

“I didn’t,” he replied, shrugging with a small smile. “I like to write in journals as a form of catharsis, and thought you might want to try.”

“Thank you so much.” You lifted an arm up and gestured for a one armed hug, one that Namjoon happily accepted.

Clutching the journal to your chest, you gathered the courage to ask him the question that had been running around in your head the past week.

“Namjoon?”

“Yes?”

“How did you guys find me in time?”

The elder clenched his jaw and shifted his gaze aside as if he couldn’t beat to direct his apparent anger and frustration toward you. 

“We heard from Jimin that Aemilia took you and interrogated the police commissioner about any of our private guard’s movements. He fessed and told us that Aemilia told him that I texted her, claiming that there was another soul in need of punishment.” 

Namjoon grit his teeth, vexation rolling off of him in waves as he practically hissed out his words. “He authorized members of our private force to move under her order in order to subdue you.”

Recounting the ridiculous lie that the redhead told her father, and the father’s idiotic tendency to believe her, made his blood hot.

“After we heard that, we rushed to all the places in the forest that the Augustus men might have taken you. Thankfully, we got to Lorne’s Ledge in time and Jimin was able to save you before you could fall off the edge.”

“Are you sure?” You said. “I could have sworn I stepped off...I thought I was a goner.”

Namjoon shook his head. “We definitely got there in time to save you. You sustained several head injuries, so I’d understand if you didn’t see Jimin or blacked out.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, pondering his response for several moments before nodding at his answer. 

There was no way you would ever be able to forget what happened that night.

You knew for a fact that your feet had left the ledge. 

But he was right, you did take several nasty hits from Byun and Lee.

You wanted to keep asking him questions, but the pained, forced look in his eye made you pause on that front.

Perhaps that projection you saw of your mother had actually been Jimin.

You wrung your hands together. 

“What matters now is that you’re safe and sound.” Namjoon gently placed his hand atop yours and gave it a supporting squeeze. “All you need to focus on is getting better. We definitely won’t let them get away with this.”

You nodded again, smiling slightly at Namjoon in thanks for his concern.

——————————————————————

Halfway across town, Aemilia Augustus paced around in her room, practically biting off her perfectly manicured nails in worry.

It had been seven days. 

Seven days of nothing.

Not a single word had come in from Byun or Lee.

When she arrived at school that first day and heard everyone talking about your absence, she felt pure and utter bliss. 

There was no joy like the joy she felt in that moment.

Such euphoria simply couldn’t be replaced.

The only moments that could possibly top it were her future engagement with Kim Namjoon, or the day she would take over her family business.

Because so many days went by without a single peep at your face, she thought her plan was working. 

She felt on top of the world.

But Byun and Lee were two of the most promising soldiers on the squad. There was no reason as to why they were taking so long to get back to her to confirm your measly little death.

As a result, she was starting to panic.

Of course, she had an emergency plan. 

She had no need for it, as there was no way her plan could go wrong, but she always had to be prepared, after all.

Just as she was about to take deep breaths to calm herself down, she jumped at the sound of pounding footsteps and yelps drifting into her room from downstairs.

She heard the annoying cry of her mother and father, and then the sound of several people talking.

A grim chill fell over her.

Unexpectedly, her plan had gone horribly, horribly wrong.

There wasn’t much time left now, as she could hear the footsteps get closer and closer.

To hell with her parents--their capture was inevitable.

Aemilia Augustus would not be captured like a criminal, not as long as she was alive and well.

Aemilia padded over to her bedroom door, shutting it closed as softly as possible and smacking the lights off.

She dove into her walk-in closet and squeezed herself as tightly as possible into a corner, a rack of evening gowns and day dresses covering her.

Every couple of minutes, a door would slam open and she listened, holding a hand over her mouth as the pounding feet searched every room on her floor.

It didn’t take them long to arrive at her room, and she shook as she heard them throw things around.

A rectangle of light shone into the room as someone opened the closet door and Aemilia stilled as though she were encased in ice.

It was silent for a long, dreadful moment. The officer turned their head this way and that, walking into the room and turning on the light to search.

From where Aemilia was hidden, there was no way they would be able to find her. She thanked Wylynne that she hadn’t taken up on her mother’s offer to hire a maid to clean her closet.

The officer turned away to leave and Aemilia cheered in her heart.

After the guards left the premises, she would collect as many valuables as possible from the house and run off to her family’s private home in another part of town. From there, she would plan what to do next.

Her plan wasn’t perfect, but she would be able to get away with it.

Or at least, she thought she would.

Just as the officer was about to close the door, a strong, invisible force yanked Aemilia out from her hiding spot and she came crashing down noisily from behind the evening gowns, taking a few with her.

The officer immediately turned around, beckoning his partner to get her. 

She hurriedly gripped a platform heel and attempted to plunge it in the man’s eye, but he caught her wrist and painfully twisted her arm behind her back.

The redhead screeched in fury and pain. His partner soon joined him, and they dragged her out into her room, each officer tightly holding on to one of her arms.

“What are you doing? Unhand me this instant!” She shrieked, writhing around in an attempt to escape. “Have you forgotten who you take orders from?!”

“No, but it seems as though you have.” 

She paused at the sound of that familiar voice.

Her beloved casually strode into the room in all of his glory, his head held high, that ever present cocky, amused smile that she loved so much on his face.

“Namjoon.” She whimpered. “Namjoon, they’re hurting me.”

The student body president kneeled down in front of her and gently took her chin in his hands.

Her eyes filled with tears and she stuck out her bottom lip, waiting for Namjoon to tell the men to let her go. They better anticipate the earful they were about to receive. How dare they treat their future queen this way?

Namjoon lovingly stroked her cheek with his thumb, wiping away her tear. She nuzzled her cheek into his hand, looking up at him with a pitiful gaze. He smiled at her.

Surely he would save her.

Aemilia closed her eyes, suppressing a victorious smile as she felt Namjoon pull his hand away from her face.

But rather than the sound of him barking orders, she was met with the sound of a harsh slap.

Her eyes flew open in shock.

Her face stung.

“Nam..joon...?” She whispered, stupefied.

The senior was sneering down at her, pulling a handkerchief out the square pocket of his jacket and wiping his hand on it.

“What disgusting thoughts you have,” the man spat, dropping the handkerchief in another subordinate’s hand. 

“Burn that.” He commanded.

Aemilia simply stared up at him in disbelief. 

Had he...hit her?

“Namjoon, why are you doing this?” Her voice trembled. “You’d never hit me, you’re my...we’re-”

“Nothing.” Namjoon interrupted with a disinterested gaze. “I am not your anything. I’ve never given you any inclination that could lead you to assume that I loved you, or liked you, or cared for you in the slightest.”

Aemilia dropped to her knees in incredulity. 

“That’s not true! You cared for me, I know you did! Ever since that (h/c) haired bitch appeared, you’ve turned away from me!” She screeched, her shrill voice piercing their ears. “I should’ve gotten rid of her sooner!”

As soon as the words left her mouth, all the air in Aemilia’s lungs disappeared. She heaved her chest, trying to breath, but found herself unable to.

He squatted down to face her.

“Let’s get one thing absolutely clear.” Namjoon spoke in a frighteningly low tone. “I never cared for you. You were nothing more than a useful little pawn in my game. A pawn who somehow tricked herself into believing she could become a queen.”

Her face turned redder and redder from anger, embarrassment, and the lack of oxygen.

“(Y/N) is more of a queen than you could ever be,” Namjoon stated, smiling at the memory of you sitting up in your hospital bed, grinning at him, the sun forming a halo behind your head. “She’s an angel. Our precious everything.”

He turned his gaze back to the creature before him. “She isn’t someone the likes of you can ever attempt to touch, much less harm or overthrow.”

Namjoon straightened, moving to walk towards the entrance to her room. “That’s my fault, I’m afraid. After all, I wasn’t able to properly regulate my inferiors.”

Black dots swam at the edge of Aemilia’s vision. She kept her eyes locked on Namjoon, still praying that this was all a prank or a joke, and that he would comfort her by sweeping her up into his arms.

“You truly have no idea what’s going to happen to you, do you?” He chuckled with a mirthless smile. “Don’t worry. We’ll fix that soon enough.”

Finally, her body gave in and shut down from the lack of oxygen. The redhead flopped over on her side, Namjoon’s cruel glare burned into the backs of her eyes.

——————————————————————

On the morning of the seventh day, you took advantage of your solitude by pondering the events of this week and the rather complicated emotions that came with them. 

Despite their reputation and despite your fears, you had grown closer to the Kims over the past month. 

They never threatened or harmed you or the people you cared about. They had welcomed you into their lives with open arms. 

You had kept them at an arms length in an effort to protect yourself and your loved ones. But what had distancing yourself from them gained you?

Still, there was no way your method could be wrong. It was your livelihood, your path to survival in Ichabod. 

There were rules here, rules that couldn’t be broken. 

Yet the majority of those rules had been broken the moment you invited Jimin to sit with you at lunch.

Was it even possible that an alternative path to salvation freedom existed?

Had the Kims truly provided another way? 

Your mother went around the room collecting and packing up your things for you as Mana helped you change in the bathroom, making sure to be careful of your still-healing shoulder.

When they left to fetch your discharge papers, you sat at the edge of the hospital bed and deliberated what could potentially be one of the most important decisions of your life.——————————————————————

i am so, so, so sorry for taking longer than usual to post! college and midterm season caught up with me--i’ll try not to let assignments interfere with my writing schedule in the future ;-;-; thank you so much for sticking with me through the wait! the long awaited day has finally come! revenge has never been so sweet hehe. also, the way that i have no idea how to write fight scenes--pfft. i hope you all enjoy the chapter <33

~taglist~

@melaninkpops @loserwithapen @hellaspookystudent @ecillartto @omgsuperstarg @ace-angel-judas @jjamsbangtan @lovinggalaxies @lovesick-heart0 @ksxmpoison @girlmeetsliv3 @thedarkwinterrose @purpuravm @oneweirdbean @hopelessfountainjoonie @mazmaz30 @enigmaticlove-03 @uppiespuppy @queenceline22 @kokofikats @taeyohonic @creatorspalace @supertweetycherry @anachikartadze @itsfeliciatime 

[zintranslations]

Kaleidoscope of Death, Ch. 117

Kaleidoscope of Death by Xi Zixu Link to Chinese / Novel Updates

Chapter 117: Are You Angry?

"So what about my stethoscope?"

Xiao Ji didn't seem scared at all of Lin Qiushi's suspicions, asking his question sharply in return.

"You used the stethoscope this morning, right?" Lin Qiushi asked.

Xiao Ji didn't answer yes or no; keenly, he'd detected that Lin Qiushi's question was a trap, so he didn't speak.

However, Xiao Mei sat beside him spoke up calmly: "Yes, he used the stethoscope to open a chest this morning. Someone else saw it too."

She pointed at a person in the crowd.

The person Xiao Mei was pointing to nodded, indicating that Xiao Mei wasn't lying.

"When I passed by the living room today I saw Xiao Ji opening a chest. He also used the stethoscope."

"Ah, so that means your stethoscope is currently operational?" Lin Qiushi said. "If there are no problems, may I have a look at it?"

With a scoff, Xiao Ji took the stethoscope from his neck and tossed it to Lin Qiushi.

"I'd like to see what you're trying to sell here."

Lin Qiushi took the stethoscope.

"Xiao Mei, you haven't eaten, right?"

Xiao Mei nodded, and spoke with indifference: "Yes. Xiao Ji heard a Hakobito yesterday, so I didn't eat anything."

This wasn't a strange turn of events, in fact was quite normal. The number of Hakobito had gradually increased, after all. It would be odder if, from the start until now, Xiao Ji had never encountered a Hakobito.

"Mh, if it can hear the Hakobito's movements, that means this stethoscope definitely works," Lin Qiushi said. "Let's give it a try then."

He put on the stethoscope and picked a random person beside him, pressing the stethoscope to his own chest[1]. As expected, the stethoscope that should've allowed him to hear something did not pick up any sounds; the end that went into the ears was completely silent.

"I can't hear anything," Lin Qiushi said. "You all can try it too."

He tossed the stethoscope to somebody else.

Another person picked up the stethoscope, and after carefully listening, confirmed that there was nothing audible inside.

Xiao Ji's expression went cold. He said, "you want me condemned based on just that?"

Lin Qiushi shrugged.

"Your stethoscope's broken, so how did you hear sounds from inside the chests?"

Xiao Ji lifted his chin.

"And here I thought you'd have some way to prove I'm guilty. Well sorry, but I've already tried it before. This stethoscope is special. It can't hear human heartbeats at all."

Lin Qiushi's lips curved up.

"Oh? You sure?"

Xiao Ji, "props inside the door are different from stuff outside to begin with. Yu Linlin, you're not thinking of besmirching me with this in order to take my stethoscope from me, are you?!"

He banged on the table violently, seemingly on the verge of a fit over being so wrongly accused.

Lin Qiushi asked, "you're sure that this stethoscope can't hear heartbeats, and that it's just a special item?"

"What? You saying you know my item better than me?"

Xiao Ji was locked in on this answer. After all, the stethoscope's always been on him. He could say whatever he wanted about it and nobody could do a thing.

But Lin Qiushi took the stethoscope back in hand with a sigh.

"What a shame. If you hadn't said that, I really don't know what I would've done."

And as he spoke, he began taking apart the stethoscope.

The earpieces on the stethoscope had metal rings that could be twisted off, with special sound-amplifying discs installed inside. However, when Lin Qiushi twisted one of the rings apart and removed the disc, everybody looking at the stethoscope grew shocked—because the space behind the disc had been stuffed with a wad of solid cotton, firmly blockading the path of sound transmission. Of course it hadn’t been able to hear a thing.

When Xiao Ji first saw the cotton, he froze. Then, expression drastically changing, he roared, "who said you could take my stethoscope apart—"

He lunged in front of Lin Qiushi, trying to take the stethoscope back, but Sun Yuanzhou, already standing ready beside him, held him back.

Xiao Ji saw that he could no longer get his hands on the stethoscope and began to cuss. It wasn’t difficult to see that the intensity of his reaction was weird.

Faced with Xiao Ji's threats and insults, Lin Qiushi remained impassive. He calmly removed the cotton and put the stethoscope back together. This time, with the stethoscope's amplifier placed on his chest, a heartbeat could be clearly and readily heard.

Lin Qiushi laughed, "this is what you used to distinguish whether a chest contained a box person? Very impressive."

Xiao Mei joined him with a sneer. Since the death of her lover, an irreversible change had taken place in her body that had completely expelled the awkwardness and timidity of a newbie and made her incomparably cold.

When he saw such an interaction between Lin Qiushi and Xiao Mei, Xiao Ji finally cottoned on, shooting Xiao Mei a vicious glare.

"You betrayed me?" he spat. "Fucking bitch—you stuffed my stethoscope with cotton?!"

Xiao Mei's arms wrapped around her chest as she watched Xiao Ji coolly.

"And what if I did?"

"Why the fuck did you sell me out??" Xiao Ji asked. "I'm the one who helped you kill Wei Xiude—"

At this, Xiao Mei began to laugh, loud and hard enough for tears to fall. She wiped the corners of her eyes and said, "are you that simple? You helped me? Weren't you just helping yourself? Besides…"

Her voice grew brutal, and her tone was like it wanted to tear a piece skin off Xiao Ji's body itself.

"The Hako Onna killed my lover, and you're working with her?! You deserve to die!!"  

Xiao Ji was panting, so angry that his eyes went red.

In order to prevent him from getting away, someone else fetched ropes and tied him down. Lin Qiushi put the stethoscope back together and set it on the table.

"Anything else you'd like to say?" he asked.

Xiao Ji gritted his teeth, and sneered.

"Hah, so what if it was me? Kill me if you can."

He truly hadn't been relying on the stethoscope to determine whether or not there were people in the chests, because he was required to open three chests per day and could only listen to the Hako Onna's directions when doing so in order to avoid any errors.

If he hadn't told them that the chest Xiao Mei wanted to open yesterday contained a Hakobito, he might have been able to make an argument for himself. The way things looked now though, these people seemed to have suspected him for a very long time.

"What a shame. You really think I can’t kill you?" Lin Qiushi stood up and walked in front of Xiao Ji, head down and staring. "There will be plenty of ways."

Xiao Ji first shivered at Lin Qiushi's gaze, but then grew angry at his own reaction. Teeth bared, he laughed,

"Hahahah, you're pathetic too! So what if you kill me? If you kill me your lover's going to come back to life? She's already dead—she died last night, the Hako Onna killed her—didn't you want to ask where the fire extinguisher is? Let me tell you, I was the one who hid it. I hid it in a chest, and so none of you will ever find it!"

Before Lin Qiushi could even move, Xiao Mei's foot came flying in from the side. She kicked Xiao Ji straight to the ground, and then ground Xiao Ji's hand viciously underfoot.

"It's all your fault," she screamed, "it's your fault he's dead. You're the monster, you're the monster who sided with the demons!! Die!!”

"Xiao Mei, calm down!" Sun Yuanzhou rushed to grab hold of her, worried that she was going to do something out of control. Though it'd be a way to get the anger out, she'd pay for it with her life.

"I know." Xiao Mei halted, and spoke icily: "I know. I won't die. I'm going to live. I'm going to live for him."

Reaching up, she wiped away her tears, and her tone went quiet.

"I was supposed to be the one who opened that chest…"

When he heard her, however, Xiao Ji only started laughing—big hearty hahaha’s. He turned to Lin Qiushi with malice in his gaze and horrible words at the ready, planning on further provoking these two about their dead lovers, when there came the sound of light footsteps at the door, followed by a laughing voice that said:

"Who told you I was dead?"

Everyone jolted and looked up toward the door—they saw that Ruan Nanzhu, who should have died the night before, had appeared before them. Ruan Nanzhu looked back at everyone with a smile, slowly trodding before Lin Qiushi before saying: "Honey, I'm home."

Lin Qiushi looked at him and didn't speak.

While he didn't answer, Xiao Ji began a piercing scream: "No way, no way, how could you have survived—No way!!"

Killing Ruan Nanzhu had been his most successful move. Not only had he buried the key, but he had also destroyed an item that could kill the Hako Onna. But this person who should've died had suddenly appeared before him, whole and hale!

"Kiddo, you want to know why veterans don't like jumping newbies through too many doors?" Ruan Nanzhu was watching him with eyes full of pity. "Because only by passing the previous doors do us veterans get the cards up our sleeves. You really think all those doors are for nothing?"

Lin Qiushi stood next to Ruan Nanzhu, sizing up the person beside him. He spotted a red circle newly marking Ruan Nanzhu's wrist—it looked as if it had been tattooed on, and made for a particularly piercing sight on the pale skin.

"Take a look. Aren't I perfectly fine?" Ruan Nanzhu spoke to Xiao Ji. "Are you surprised? Is your mind blown?"

Xiao Ji trembled, so angry he could pass out.

"Holy fuck Zhu Meng, how the hell did you survive!" When she saw Ruan Nanzhu, Liang Miye too was astonished. Now she was asking the question everybody wanted to ask. "You, weren't you…"

"I told you, I've got cards up my sleeve," Ruan Nanzhu said. "No need to worry…"

He peered at Lin Qiushi as he spoke, but found Lin Qiushi utterly expressionless and ignoring him completely—and in his mind he began to curse.

"Let's get the fire extinguisher's location out of him first," Lin Qiushi said. "That's more important."

"Let me do it," Xiao Mei spoke warmly, twirling at a strand of hair by her ear. "I guarantee that when I get the answer from him, he'll still be alive."

"What are you going to do?!" Xiao Ji was terrified by the look in Xiao Mei's eyes, and began to cuss again, a whole series of really bad words. When Xiao Mei seemed unmoved, he tried appealing to pathos once more: "Xiao Mei, I really do like you! Or I wouldn't have helped you kill Wei Xiude!"

But Xiao Mei only laughed.

"Hah, kill Wei Xiude?" She spoke without much emotion at all. "Of course a dumb newbie would be easier to control than a wily veteran. Plus, I don't believe you would've let me go."

Since Xiao Ji and the Hako Onna had come to an arrangement, he definitely would've killed everybody else inside the door in order to prevent the Hako Onna from going back on her word, so he'd be protected by the rule of the doors. Xiao Mei would've really been stupid if she'd believed his nonsense.

This, Xiao Mei was quite clear on. It was also why she chose to cooperate with Lin Qiushi.

After that, Xiao Mei looked toward Ruan Nanzhu.

"I really thought you were dead."

Ruan Nanzhu just smiled, noncommittal.

After that, other people began interrogating Xiao Ji about the location of the hidden fire extinguisher. Lin Qiushi sat at the side, not saying much. As a matter of fact ever since Ruan Nanzhu returned, Lin Qiushi hadn't said anything to him at all.

Ruan Nanzhu was still smiling and teasing Lin Qiushi at first. Only a bit later did he realize something was wrong, and quickly called Lin Qiushi outside for them to speak alone.

Lin Qiushi followed Ruan Nanzhu impassively out to a side room and said, "go ahead. What did you want to say?"

"Linlin, are you angry?" Ruan Nanzhu made that pretty face of his all sad and pitiful as he whimpered, "don't be angry with me, please?"

Truthfully, on any other day, Lin Qiushi's anger likely wouldn't have lasted after seeing Ruan Nanzhu like this. But today, he only huffed once, unfeeling and equivocal.

"Linlin, Linlin…" Ruan Nanzhu said. "Don't be angry anymore, I feel so bad when I see you’re upset."

He took Lin Qiushi's hands and carefully pecked at the corners of Lin Qiushi's mouth.

"Please?"

Lin Qiushi was unmoved.

"Let me just ask you one question."

Ruan Nanzhu, "mh."

Lin Qiushi, "were you sure you'd survive?"

Ruan Nanzhu said, "of course I was s—"

But before he'd even finished speaking Lin Qiushi cut him off—and with suppressed rage on the brink of breaking through the dam, Lin Qiushi called out Ruan Nanzhu's full name.

"Ruan Nanzhu, after all that, you're still going to fucking lie to me?!"

"Linlin, I really did have a way out," Ruan Nanzhu said. "Remember the 'Humans as Mirror" door, when I gave you that red bracelet inside? That bracelet can offset three supernatural attacks…"

He held out his wrist, showing Lin Qiushi that bright red mark on his arm.

"See? Aren't I perfectly fine?"

As he spoke, he smiled cajolingly at Lin Qiushi. But at this explanation, Lin Qiushi only scoffed.

"If you really knew you were going to live, would you have put the key and wooden stake together?" He grew angrier and angrier, until his last words were basically suppressed shouting. "You're just going to play me like I'm some kind of idiot?"

Ruan Nanzhu wanted to explain further, but Lin Qiushi was done listening. He said, "we'll talk about this more outside. I'm not in a good mood right now, if we keep talking, I really will get angry with you."

After that, he turned and left, giving Ruan Nanzhu no further opportunity to explain himself.

Ruan Nanzhu groaned without sound.

Back then, Lin Qiushi had really thought Ruan Nanzhu was done for. It wasn't until he heard Ruan Nanzhu's farewell—"Yu Linlin, I love you"—that Lin Qiushi came to knowledge. He'd understood in a split instant.

If Ruan Nanzhu really thought he was going to die, then when he gave his last confession, he would've at least called out Lin Qiushi's real name, not "Yu Linlin."

Lin Qiushi, once he understood everything, had steadied his crumbling emotional state. He also took all his fury for Ruan Nanzhu and buried it deep within himself.

On the other end, the interrogation had yielded results—Xiao Ji told them where the fire extinguisher was hidden. As for what method Xiao Mei used, Lin Qiushi didn't ask. He wasn't kind enough to forgive somebody who almost got Ruan Nanzhu killed; not taking care of Xiao Ji himself had been his last act of tolerance.

Xiao Ji confessed to everything. He said that immediately after he got here, he'd made a deal with the Hako Onna. He’d gotten a lot luckier than the dead Tian Guxue; the moment he entered the door he'd received the item set on the table and also the hidden rulebook.

Of course, to prevent other people from suspecting him, he'd hidden the item in one of the chests in the living room. Then, after reading the rulebook, he'd put the rulebook away in a corner of the dining room.

After that, Xiao Ji opened three chests in a row before everybody's eyes. He'd opened up the item and one of the Hako Onna's powers to boot.

As for Tian Guxue, she was entirely a smokescreen that the Hako Onna cooked up. Back when Ruan Nanzhu was having suspicions about Tian Guxue, he'd felt something was off, because Tian Guxue hadn't seem anywhere clever enough to be a competent partner. Sure enough, right behind her had been the better player Xiao Ji, who'd been so much better that nobody even suspected him.

But when the unexpected happened to Ruan Nanzhu, it prompted Lin Qiushi to start thinking about all this. He contacted Xiao Mei in private and got her to tamper with Xiao Ji's stethoscope. Then he'd gotten quite lucky—Xiao Ji immediately exposed himself and allowed Lin Qiushi to confirm that he was the mole.

Everything had gone smoothly, aside from the person who'd lied to him.

Ruan Nanzhu—he must have already guessed there was a second mole. He'd even predicted that the second mole would target him, and in order to leave Lin Qiushi out of danger, he’d hidden everything and directed two of Hako Onna's powers onto himself. The reality was that everything Ruan Nanzhu did bore risk; even if he'd been eighty percent sure the bracelet could weather damage from the Hako Onna, there was still that twenty percent uncertainty. That was why he decided to leave behind the key and item, shutting himself up alone in Tian Guxue's room.

Lin Qiushi understood all the logic, but he still couldn't control his anger. The moment he thought about Ruan Nanzhu dying alone in that room without even a body to recover, he found it so damn difficult to bear.

"Are you two alright?" When the two came back out, the peculiar atmosphere between them was worrying, so Liang Miye asked a quiet word or two.

"We're fine," Lin Qiushi answered coolly. "What could possibly be wrong?"

Liang Miye, "…" Y'all sure don't look fine. And this was the first time she's seen such an ingratiating expression on Ruan Nanzhu's face.

"Baby are you hungry?"

"No."

"Baby are you thirsty?"

"No."

"Baby—"

"Don't call me baby."

"Linlin…"

"Shut up."

The above was their dialogue, and everyone around them listening in began to look queer; Sun Yuanzhou forced down a laugh and cleared his throat a couple of times before saying you two sure are cute together, but this was no time to flirt. Let's talk about the matter of the Hako Onna first.

How to get the items, how to kill the Hako Onna and get out of here—these were the most important matters at hand.

"We have at most six days," Ruan Nanzhu said. "After six days, the Hako Onna can probably activate 'I'm Behind You' again. If we're not out by then…well, we might never get out."

"The item we have right now that can kill the Hako Onna is the wooden stake. Once we figure out the Hako Onna's location we can hit her with it, and for her to use a power, she has to cry." Sun Yuanzhou too had straightened out his thoughts. "As long as we wait…"

"That's right," Ruan Nanzhu said. "But the stake can only be used once, and if we use it in the wrong place, we'll have lost a critical opportunity." The wooden stake had to be used prior to opening a chest. He continued, "I haven't used the gasoline we put through the door either. This is also a key item."

"Mh, we just don't know if there's any notable difference between the Hako Onna's chest and the Hakobito’s," Lin Qiushi said. "If the stethoscope can tell the difference between those two, that's for the best. If it can't, then things will be a bit more difficult."

By the current look of things, when the Hako Onna cried, they could only confirm which room she was in, not which specific chest.

So there was still risk in it for them.

"Finding more items would be safer," Ruan Nanzhu said, "but time isn't waiting for us."

Everybody began to ponder the matter.

Today, the Hako Onna seemed to have realized that things weren't looking good, and so didn't use a power or cry aloud. Lin Qiushi could only confirm the Hako Onna was on the first floor, but didn't know a more concrete location.

If the Hako Onna didn't cry, then they could make no progress. They could only wait.

While they waited, Ruan Nanzhu brazenly kept trying to make conversation with Lin Qiushi. At first, Lin Qiushi answered on and off, but after he grew annoyed he didn't even bother replying, just kept his head down and played with his phone.

A resentful expression appeared on Ruan Nanzhu's face; he wanted to be the thing held in Lin Qiushi's hand.

Liang Miye spectated their interactions and held back laughter from the sidelines. Obsidian Leader Ruan Nanzhu was so austere and cold outside the door—who knew he'd be like this inside? Of course, she didn't dare laugh out loud, because if she irritated Ruan Nanzhu and got him truly angry…She wasn't about to get the same treatment as Lin Qiushi.

Lin Qiushi was clearly still angry, and it wasn't just any small upset.

Seeing him like this, Ruan Nanzhu was troubled. He thought that if he couldn't even get Lin Qiushi to come around with an advantage as huge as Zhu Meng inside the door, then it'd be even harder outside the door.

And so going to sleep at night, Ruan Nanzhu crept his way into Lin Qiushi's bed.

"Linlin, I'm scared." The person before him stared with big, dark, beautiful eyes, watching Lin Qiushi all innocently. "Will you sleep with me please?"

Lin Qiushi was impassive: "You're scared?"

Ruan Nanzhu, "yeah."

"That's great. I'm scared too."

With that he got up, leaving Ruan Nanzhu on the bed, and switched over to Ruan Nanzhu's bed.

Ruan Nanzhu, "…" Oh crap, oh crap, his dearest Linlin was actually angry, and of the type that couldn't even be sweet-talked.

Author's Note:

Ruan Nanzhu: Are you angry?

Lin Qiushi: No.

Ruan Nanzhu: Are you angry?

Lin Qiushi: No.

Ruan Nanzhu: Are y—

Lin Qiushi: Ask me again and I will kill you.

Ruan Nanzhu: _(:з」∠)_

The Daily Life of Popuruan and Pipilin[2] hahahaha

Translator’s Note:

That’s definitely what the Chinese said so I’m wondering if there’s a typo. LQS grabbed someone in the group, but put the stethoscope to his own chest and listened to the stethoscope himself.

“The Daily Life of Popuko and Pipimi” is the Chinese title of Pop Team Epic

[Ch. 116] | [Ch. 118]

[waywardrose13]

Crimson Leaves- Chapter Seven: Calm Before the Storm

Masterlist // Series Masterlist

Crimson Leaves- Zombie Apocalypse AU series

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: The dead have risen. Amid a global pandemic that causes the dead to prowl the Earth, a leader of a small camp in North Carolina fights for survival. Y/N Y/L/N was certain of three things: One, only a bite would turn you. Two, the brain must be destroyed in order to completely kill the thing. Three, trust no one. When a stranger is brought to her camp half alive, Y/N must make the decision to throw him to the walkers, or let the mystery man heal within the gates. As Dean Winchester recovers from a zombie attack, he worms his way into the camp, and eventually into Y/N’s heart. Love is a dangerous game, especially when it’s played with the dead.

Chapter Warnings: Angst, language, some fluff, *Graphic depictions of gore and murder*, implied cannibalism, death

Bingo squares: None for this chapter​

A/N- This chapter was commissioned! Thank you to the beautiful individual who motivated me to write this chapter. This one is for you:)

<<Chapter Six

“Seriously?”

Y/n’s heart nearly leaped from her chest. She cursed under her breath and turned slowly to face him. Smiling sheepishly, she tried to ignore the flutters of butterflies in her chest at the sight of Dean: arms crossed, eyes narrowed, lips pursed. Why was an angry Dean turning her on? And why was she letting it?

“Hey, Dean,” she said. She sent him her most innocent smile, which was not reciprocated in the slightest. “Why are you up so early?”

“Because I’m a light sleeper and I heard you leave,” he replied. “Haven’t you learned from last time? What the hell is wrong with you?”

“I have a list,” she said, shrugging. “People need these items and the runners can’t get them.”

“Why not?”

“Because they’re personal items that people trust me with,” she said. “I have to go.”

“You’re unbelievable.”

“I’m amazing.”

“You’re a pain in the ass.”

“I’m endearing.”

Dean sighed and rubbed his temples. “Okay, well I’m coming with you.”

“Dean-”

“Not up for discussion. I don’t want to imagine what would have happened if you were alone last time. I’m coming with you.” Dean gripped her chin and planted a quick kiss on her lips before stepping around her to open the gate. “Come on, you.”

Y/n’s lip quirked into a small smile. She slipped through the gate, Dean right behind her. “Ladies first” he had said the first time they left on a run together. She hadn’t taken it, of course. He had sauntered through the gates when she scowled at him. But now, she brushed a hand over his bicep as she passed, giving him a sly grin that he sent right back as she walked through the gates. He latched it back up and followed Y/n down the marked path before he reached out silently to intertwine his fingers with hers. She sent him a shy smile and squeezed his hand.

The sun hadn’t risen quite yet. The hints of a rosy pink bled through the trees from atop the mountain. The sunrise over the mountain-top was gorgeous. A perk of being on the east coast.

The two settled into a comfortable silence. The birds began to wake, their melodious songs echoing off the trees, creating a calming morning atmosphere. It wasn’t very humid, and the temperature wasn’t too high, so the air was comfortable, a soft wind blowing atop the mountain. With mornings like these, it’s hard to think of the death and destruction happening on Earth right now. These moments of tranquility were cherished by Y/n. She knew it couldn’t last, but she liked to pretend. 

They arrived at the Jeep in no time. Dean offered to drive, and Y/n reluctantly let him. She knew the roads better, but she was still tired, so she conceded.

“We aren’t going into Brevard today,” she said. “When you get to the fork, take a left instead.”

“Copy that,” Dean said. 

They drove in silence for the most part, one of Dean’s hands still laced with one of Y/n’s. Y/n huffed a small laugh at the thought of the last time they were outside the walls of the camp on a run. How she had been so annoyed and pissy with him. How he had called her a grade-A bitch.

Now, their hands were laced and her skin was abuzz with the feel of him. That attraction and that feeling had been there, hidden beneath denial and anger and self hatred. But Dean had set that feeling free. He had nudged open the door to her heart and let those feelings loose.

And it scared the fuck out of her.

She knew she wasn’t easy to be around. She knew she wasn’t easy to love. She knew that before the apocalypse. She had always had a temper. She was always a bit odd. She had been through some shit in her life that molded her into someone who locked away her trust and lashed out when she was hurt. 

It’s not like she wanted to be this way. A build up of unresolved trauma, the dismissal of her own feelings, and not knowing how to express her emotions in a healthy way led to it. 

So, no. She wasn’t easy to be around. It’s why most people in her life left. Even her own family had a hard time dealing with her sometimes.

“You make us all miserable.” 

It was so long ago, she couldn’t remember if it was one of her siblings or parents, but those words had stuck with her for a long time. And it stung, even after all these years. She wished she could fix it. She had always wanted to be loved despite her flaws.

She knew Dean didn’t love her. She knew the capability of someone loving her was low. But he cared for her. And he shared her affections.

She just hoped she didn’t scare him off.

The general store was nestled in yet another small town at the bottom of the mountain. The runners didn’t know about it. They traveled mostly west or to Brevard. But Y/n had come to the small town on a few occasions. It was one of the last untouched towns. Long abandoned, it wasn’t on many maps, and the general store still had many valuables to spare.

“What are we looking for?” Dean asked as they stepped inside. He closed the door softly behind him and locked it. The store was dark and full of cobwebs, dust, and leaves, but the shelves were still intact and covered in items. They weren’t full, but they had enough.

Y/n read over her list for the tenth time. “Some enemas, condoms, and hemorrhoid cream.”

Dean stared at her. “Personal. Right.”

“Told you,” she said, setting off into the isles. “Not everyone trusts all the runners. As their leader, most people entrust the more personal items with me. I think they know if they asked the runners for stuff like this, stuff that doesn’t benefit the camp as a whole, the runners would ignore it.”

“You’re a good leader, Y/n.”

Her skin warmed at his pride. “Thank you.”

They searched the store for the items, finding them all as well as a few more packs of batteries, lighter fluid, and a half empty tank of gas in the back. They poured the gas into the Jeep’s tank, stuffed all of the items into Y/n’s backpack, and climbed back into the car.

***

“That went by much more smoothly than our last outing.”

Y/n whistled and nodded, slumping down onto her couch when they got back to her cabin. They had dropped the items off at the respectable tents, dumped the batteries off at the nerve center, passed the lighter fluid off to the kitchens, and returned to Y/n’s cabin before their daily duties.

“I would say so,” she said, reaching a hand up for Dean to grab. He grinned and took it, sinking down onto the couch beside her and lifting her up into his lap. She laid her head in the crook of his neck, his hands resting on her waist and knee. 

“What do you have planned today, Lord Commander?” Dean asked, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

Y/n rolled her eyes. “I’m stuck at the nerve center today. I have some role change requests and Luke and I are drafting a plan for some cabin construction.”

“Really?” Dean asked. 

“Yep. We’re growing rapidly. We’re thinking about some bunk houses, that way people don’t always have to stay in tents. There’s a man who worked construction who’s currently over in security, but he said he’d direct the building efforts.”

“That would be a lot of work,” Dean said. He peered down at her. “Where would the materials come from?”

“It would be mostly wood. Maybe some clay to help keep the logs together. But if we build a sturdy enough structure and use some of the tarps over the roofs to keep the rain from pouring in, I think we could build decent log houses. They wouldn’t be perfect, but the tents are filling up and we’re running out.”

Dean nodded at her words and squeezed her hip. “Not a bad idea.”

“Of course it isn’t. I came up with it.”

Dean chuckled. “So modest.” 

She looked up at him, their eyes locking for a moment before Dean bent down to plant a chaste kiss to her lips. 

Y/n didn’t think she would ever get used to Dean kissing her. Every time he did, she felt as if she was swept up into a new dance amongst the stars, or as if she was soaring up into the sky. Every touch sent her skin aflame and every kiss left her breathless in the best way. He was her drug, and the more of him she got, the more of him she craved.

He lifted her and laid her back on the couch, his hands warm on her hips as he held her down, skimming them up her sides. She arched into his touch and kissed him feverishly, wrapping her legs around his waist to rub against him. Groaning, he broke away from her to duck into her neck, kissing the skin there.

“Sweetheart,” he rasped as she grinded against him.

“Yes?” She asked sweetly.

“Keep doing that, and I won’t be able to hold back,” he said. She knew that wasn’t true. If she told him to leave and never come back, he’d respect her wishes. But his words still sent heat slithering to her core.

“Who’s asking you to?” 

Dean growled and nipped her earlobe. “I don’t want your first time to be us rutting against each other on your couch like a couple teenagers.” He bucked his hips into hers, though, making her gasp. “When we fuck, we’re going to do it right.”

When.

“So sure of yourself, aren’t you?” She asked. 

Dean pulled back to look her straight in the eye. “Very.”

And he kissed her again. 

This time, he pulled her up to his chest, keeping her legs locked around his, and stood. How he did that so gracefully with her wrapped around him like a koala, she didn’t know. But he carried her across the room and to her bed, where he broke apart and set her down gently.

And took a step back.

Dean laughed as Y/n sagged with a pout. She looked up at him through her lashes and reached for him again.

“You’re cruel. Come here.”

“I told you, I won't do this now.”

“You said not on the couch,” she pointed out. She snapped her fingers. “Come back now.”

Dean grinned and clasped the sides of her head, bending to give her one last gentle kiss.

“I thought you weren’t ready.”

Y/n thought for a moment. Twenty-three years of sexual frustration had built, and he was right in front of her, willing to be her outlet. And in the moment, she was definitely ready. But taking a step back…

“We don’t have to do it now. Just come lie with me.”

“I need to shower,” Dean said. He shifted uncomfortably and Y/n’s eyes flashed down to where his jeans were definitely straining against his crotch. She smirked and looked up at him again.

“Naughty boy.”

“It’s your fault, Lord Commander.” He pointed at her and shot her a wink. “Your fault.”

He disappeared into the bathroom and Y/n laughed. A warmth had spread over her chest and seeped into the deepest parts of her heart. That hole that had formed inside her, the one that had concaved in on itself when she lost her family and sunk into a survival mode that changed her and tore her very being apart, had begun to fill.

And she had Dean to thank for that.

She wasn’t in love. Of course, she wasn’t sure what love really was. But she felt herself falling. She knew she was falling. Which was ridiculous, right? It wasn’t as if she knew him very long. Not even two months had passed since she met him. Yet he was nestling into the depths of her heart and mind, rooting himself there.

Fuck was it terryfiying.

He was helping fill that empty void she always felt. But what if she lost him? What if she lost him like she lost her family? The ones who mattered most to her? She didn’t think she would be able to handle losing someone she loved again. 

And while she could easily lose herself in love, in a romance that she had wanted for so long, it wasn’t what was important. The camp was the most important thing in her life right now. She wouldn’t let feelings get in the way of protecting the camp or its people. 

Perhaps throwing herself into her work would help stow those feelings away. They would be kept at bay so she could focus, so that maybe she wouldn’t inevitably become hurt by his leaving. Because everyone in her life left. What would make him so different? He could say he wouldn’t leave, say he wouldn’t do the same thing as everyone else had. 

But every one of those people who left said the same thing, yet they still turned their backs on her.

Sighing, Y/n slumped further onto her bed, burrowing into the blankets and pressing her head into the pillow. She had been up so early that morning and exhaustion was weighing down on her. She had been working throughout the day and into the night before waking up before the sun the next day. She was beat.

As her eyes began to droop, Dean emerged from her bathroom. She peeked and eyes open and watched as he toweled off his wet hair, dressed in simple jeans and a henley. Hanging the towel on the rack before he sauntered over to the bed where Y/n was laying. He gently reached down to run a hand along the back of her head.

“Are you okay?” He asked, fingers lightly caressing her head, worry etched into his face.

“Yes. Why?” 

“You seem sad,” he told her. He sat down on the edge of the mattress and rested a hand on her back. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, not at all,” she promised. She sat up and locked eyes with him. “That’s kind of the problem.”

He cocked his head. “I don’t understand.”

“I don’t know how to keep myself from falling for you,” she said honestly. May as well speak the truth in the apocalypse, no beating around the bush when you could die at any moment. “I don’t know how to keep myself from getting hurt.”

Dean frowned. “Is that what’s happening here?”

Y/n swallowed the lump in her throat and gave a slight shrug. “I don’t know.”

Dean hesitated but nodded briefly and looked away. “You might want to figure that out.”

“I know.”

He sighed and squeezed her hip affectionately. “I thought I told you I wasn’t going anywhere.” He still didn’t make eye contact when he added despondently, “don’t you trust me?”

Y/n’s heart thumped roughly in her chest. “Of course I do.”

“Then why do you still question my motives? Why don’t you believe anyone could love you?”

Suddenly her heart was in her throat. Love her? He couldn’t love her. This couldn't be love with him. Not yet. Maybe infatuation or attraction, but he couldn’t possibly love her. He seemed to catch what he said because his face turned red and he stiffened. 

“Because everyone always says that. They never plan to leave in the beginning.”

“Well sorry, sweetheart. You’re stuck with me,” Dean said.

“For now.”

He rolled his eyes and stood up, beckoning her to the door. “I don’t want to argue with nonsense.”

“It’s not nonsense if it’s true,” Y/n muttered, taking his hand. He scowled.

“That in of itself is nonsense,” he said. “But come on, let’s get some work done before we say something we regret.”

Before the two could reach the door, it crashed open, Luke’s frantic face stepping into view as he nearly fell inside with the force he used to open the door. Y/n jumped and Dean crouched into a defensive stance automatically.

“Jesus, Luke!” Y/n said. “What the hell?”

“It’s… you have to look… I don't even…” Luke sucked in breaths rapidly, his face turning ashy pale as he hyperventilated. Y/n wasted no time in moving in front of her closest friend and second-in-command, placing her hands on his shoulders.

“Breathe, Luke,” she said. “Like me. In, hold, out, good. Again.”

He did his best to match her breathing, the terror still written on his face and glowing in his eyes, body trembling. He looked as if he had seen a ghost.

“Now, tell me what happened.”

“The barbarians. The runners left this morning for a hunt. They hadn’t come back in time-”

“Wait, they didn’t? Why wasn’t I informed?” Y/n asked, fingers tightening on Luke’s shoulders.

“Well… Mikela thought it best if we didn’t tell you. You’re finally back to health, well for the most part. Don’t think we haven’t noticed how you stare into space sometimes or forget something right after it happened. Your head is still healing and-”

“It doesn’t fucking matter.” She let go of him roughly, moving to the door. “I’m still the fucking leader.”

“We need a leader who is well enough to lead. She came to me and-”

Y/n spun around to face him. He stumbled back on the look on her face. She was furious, feeling betrayed. “Excuse me?”

“I’m second in command. I didn’t think it was right so I came to you and-”

“I’m not some fucking weakling,” she snarled. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not, and that’s okay. You’re not fine. You haven’t been fine in a long time,” Luke said. She nearly vibrated with rage.

“I’m fine enough to lead this camp. I’m fine enough to fulfill the duties I promised to fulfill when I took this position. You are second in command, not first. Which means I am the one they come to. Not you.”

“I know,” he said quietly. He looked down at his shoes. 

“Now. What the hell happened?”

“Runners two and six went hunting this morning.”

“Sophie and Gary. I wrote the schedule,” she said flatly. Luke nodded.

“They didn’t come back. So Mikela went out with runner three, Matthew, and-and they came back but we need you. Just… come with me. I have to show you.”

Glancing at Dean for a moment, who looked back at her with equal confusion, Y/n followed Luke outside. Some people were gathered by the front gate, but the guards were holding their line firmly. The small crowd of people parted to let Y/n through.

“What happened?”

“Where’s Gary?”

“If they’re dead, I blame you!”

Y/n stepped through the gate that the guards opened for her, ignoring the shouts from the crowd. Mikela was there, face as stony as ever, with Matthew and Richard at her sides. Y/n cocked her head.

“What happened? Luke was very vague.”

Mikela jerked her head behind her and led Y/n through the trees. Clouds covered the sky, but slivers of sunlight cut through the curtain of gray and down into the breaks of the leaves. They were on alert as they walked, Matthew, Dean, and Luke trailing behind the two women as they went.

“Why is he here?” Luke asked.

Y/n glanced back at them. Dean had turned his head to glare at Luke, who tried not to look in his direction. Y/n shrugged.

“He’s going to be a guard. He needs some field experience.”

Luke scoffed. “You’re only letting him trail you like a puppy because you’re fucking him.”

Everyone stopped walking collectively. Luke had paled and taken a step back, knowing he had gone too far. Dean’s face hardened as he gripped Luke’s shirt collar and dragged him within inches of his face.

“Watch your damn mouth,” he snarled. Luke shoved against Dean’s chest hard and stumbled back as the man let go.

“Luke,” Y/n spoke calmly. He turned to her.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-”

“If I hear one more word from your mouth, Dean won’t be the one you have to worry about. Speak to me or any other woman like that and I’ll boot you from your role here, and then contemplate your stay here at the camp. Is that understood?”

Luke nodded and swallowed hard. 

“Good,” Y/n said. “You’ve tested my patience enough today. Go back to the camp and stay there.”

“Yes, Lord Commander,” he said, trying to lift the spirits with her nickname. But it didn’t work, and he turned to slink back through the trees.

“Come on, we don’t have much time,” Mikela said lowly, gripping Y/n’s elbow to tug her along. They only walked for about a minute before she stopped and turned away. “Look.”

Mikela lifted her hand to point a few yards away. Y/n followed her finger and gasped in shock before she almost cried out in horror. She slapped her hands over her mouth to muffle the sounds. 

There, strung up by his neck, Gary hung from a thick branch of a tree. His eyes had been ripped from his head- dark, bloody sockets remaining. His throat had been hacked at, his clothes had been stolen, and his body had been utterly disfigured. Chunks of thigh had been cut away, one of his arms was missing.

The only way she knew it was Gary was by the tattoo on his chest, a family crest that sat over his heart. It had been cut into with a knife, an X marking it.

Y/n thought she may faint. Her knees wobbled at the sight and she quickly turned away, forcing the vomit that threatened to come up down. 

“Oh my God.”

“We haven’t found Sophie. We think it was the barbarians.”

“You’re sure?” Y/n asked. Mikela nodded and held out a piece of paper. It was crumpled and bloody. 

“This was nailed to his foot when we found him.”

Y/n took the paper tentatively, clenching her jaw as she read it.

“Thanks for the meal and for the fun. They’ll have to do until I get you back, Y/n.  -R.”

Y/n looked up at Dean, fear gripping her heart. Rick. He was still alive. 

“Why?” Was all she could say. Dean shook his head and closed his eyes for a moment.

“It has to be them, right?” Mikela asked. “R. He’s one of the guys who we fought last year. One of the guys who took you?”

Y/n nodded and folded the letter before shoving into her pocket. She cleared her throat and loosed a breath. “Yeah. Yeah, this was the barbarians. Rick. He uh… he’s threatened me on more than one occasion. He’s pissed that I got away from him again.”

“So what do we do?” Matthew asked. Y/n looked between the three of them, chewing on her lip as she thought. Sighing, she turned to the body hanging in the tree and winced.

“We have to give him a proper burial.” She took her switchblade from her pocket and put it in her mouth to hold it as she hauled herself up the tree, climbing it enough by the branches to reach the rope that held Gary hanging. She suppressed a gag at the smell of blood and decay and flicked the knife open. She sawed at the rope a few times until it gave away and Gary fell to the ground. “We’ll bury him in the cemetery with the others.”

“I’ll run back and grab a sheet or something,” Matthew said. He broke out into a run, desperate to get far away from their mutilated friend.

“Poor Gary,” Mikela said softly. “He was always so nice.”

“And what about the other one? Sophie, was it?” Dean asked. “You think they… they took her?”

“I hope not,” Y/n said. She swallowed the lump in her throat. “God, I hope not.”

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[the-angriestpineapple]

fanatic // bakugou x male reader

Bakugou Katsuki, pro Hero Ground Zero, meets one of his biggest fans and gets roped into walking him home. He finds out just how big a fan he is. NOTES: So this was my first xreader fic. I wrote it basically for one of my partners @spacebunnywrites​ before he was one of my partners. It’s a rough dom Bakugou but there’s some aftercare I promise. Tags: all the holes, rough sex, toys, some embarrassment. x fem here x nonbi coming soon  ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

You’re on your way home from a coffee date with friends when you hear the first explosion. It’s coming from somewhere vaguely to your left, eyes immediately shifting in that direction in time to see some civilians fleeing onto your current street from an alley. Your heart stops in your chest, but not from fear.

It can’t be… you think. He’s never in this district. But you need to check, and your legs are moving toward the gap in the buildings before you’re really thinking about it. Soon you’re running through the narrow passage, pulse quickening as the sound of the blasts grow closer. You’re almost there, you just need to see -

You skid to a stop at the alley mouth, eyes widening as a heated explosion rockets past you followed by a maniacally grinning blonde.

“DIE!!”

Oh my god it’s him! Bakugou Katsuki, pro Hero Ground Zero, in the flesh. Your heart stops again as you watch him sail through the air, so elegant in movement despite his abrasive quirk and even more abrasive personality. Most of your friends fantasized about Midoriya Izuku – Deku – the shy green haired number one hero or Kirishima Eijirou – Red Riot – the sturdy number five hero and Ground Zero’s battle partner. But you? Your heart beats for the wild blonde with the crazy smile who constantly pushes the limits.

The battle was moving down the street. You had to get closer. Where all the sane people were running away from the dueling villains and heroes, you were running closer. This was the first time you had ever seen Ground Zero in person and would likely be the last – he was never in your district and you honestly didn’t know why he was now. That didn’t matter though, he was here, and you’d watch him fight or die trying.

You at least had some sense of self-preservation, ducking behind sturdy objects so that you wouldn’t get hit with some flying shrapnel. You watch in awe as your favorite pro Hero uses his quirk to shoot through the air and slam into one of the villains, giving an appreciative sigh. Fuck, he is so hot.

You’re so focused on watching the explosion hero in action that you don’t another fight right behind you; Red Riot is sparring with a huge, muscular villain. The red-haired hero slams the guy into the wall, but your ears are ringing from being so close to Ground Zero’s detonations that you don’t hear it. Then Ground Zero looks at you. Your eyes lock. Your heart stops. His mouth is moving, making words, and the look on his face goes from sheer confidence to panic.

The world around you starts moving again and you hear ‘Hey, LOOK OUT!’ before something slams into your head and you fall to the ground, the world going dark.

“Is he okay?”

“Fuck if I know, shitty hair, but at least the bleeding stopped.”

You blink as you come to, surroundings hazy and out of focus. Your world is a swirl of greys with splashes of red, black, orange, and yellow. Part of you wonders if it’s sunrise before your vision clears and you’re looking up into the concerned face of Red Riot, and the scowling face of Ground Zero.

Oh fuck.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt? A medic team will be here shortly, and we didn’t want to move you.” The sturdy hero has concern pouring out of his tone, his eyes flicking your face for any sign of pain.

“Are you fucking stupid?” Ground Zero hisses out, his eyes narrowing further than they were before.

“Bakubro, don’t be like that! He’s a civilian, he probably got trapped! He WAS right in between our fights after all!” Red Riot frowns at the blonde who is still glaring daggers at you. “You gotta work on your image man, your publicist is gonna straight up kill you one day.”

“Fuck off, Kiri.”

Your eyes are focused on Ground Zero, frowning at the anger that is radiating from him. You knew he was like this but it’s different when it’s directed at you instead of at villains or the press.

Both heroes look up as an ambulance squeals to a stop nearby, followed by police to apprehend the villains.

Red Riot immediately pops up and waves an arm. “Hey, he’s over here!”

Ground Zero is still staring at you as Kirishima gets the attention of the paramedics. Red Riot returns quickly, flanked by two more people.

“Hey, these healers can take care of you.”

One of the people holds out her hands, scanning over your horizontal body. “There appears to be no major damage, just a shallow gash to the back of the skull. It’s superficial, Nightingale can heal it without the need for stitches.” She steps back and her partner steps up next, placing a hand to the top of your head. You feel like warm water is rushing over your skull and the dull ache of pain recedes.

Red Riot gives you a relieved smile.

“He’s all set.” The medic, Nightingale, steps back and goes with her partner back to the ambulance. You sit up, automatically steadied by Riot’s large hands.

“Careful, uh...”

“(Y/N).” Your voice sounds a little raspier than usual and you wince.

“(Y/N). It’s nice to meet you! I’m Kirishima, and this is Bakugou. Can we escort you home to make sure you make it okay?”

Ground Zero’s eye daggers are now aimed at Red Riot and you hide a smile behind your hand.

“That would be great, actually.” You hope that you look calm on the outside because your heart is hammering WILDLY in your chest. Ground Zero walking you back to your apartment? Your mind races with all the ways that could end, except now he’s back to glaring daggers at you.

“Red Riot!” All three of you look up as a police officer comes over. “We need a report from you.” His eyes flick to Ground Zero, still crouched near your side, and a flash of fear shoots through them. “Ground Zero we don’t need both of you so you’re free to go.”

Ground Zero rolls his eyes and stands, the movement as graceful as a dancer. “Fine, I have shit to do anyway.”

“Yeah, like walking this one home.” Red Riot stared at his friend, Ground Zero glaring back, before the blonde hero tossed his head back with a sigh.

“Fucking FINE. Whatever. Let’s go.”

He yanks you up, ignoring Red Riot’s suggestions to be gentle. You let out a squeal of protest on your own, attempting to pull your arm back out of his gloved hand. He’s strong though, so much stronger than you ever imagined.

“Wait, Ground Zero, Ground Zero STOP!” You yank hard on your arm, stumbling back when he lets you go and whips around to face you.

“What?!”

You huff, scowling back at him. “You’re going the wrong way.”

His eyes narrow. “Well, you didn’t tell me where you fucking live.”

“I didn’t get a chance to! You just dragged me off like some fucking animal!”

“The fuck did you just say?” Ground Zero closes the distance between you two, his crimson eyes glaring into your (e/c) ones.

“I said… you dragged me off like some kind of animal.” He may be the object of all of your carnal lusts, but you were not about to be rag-dolled through the city. At least, not in this manner. You don’t flinch as he glares at you, feeling a thrill of victory as he emits a growl.

“Fucking… fine. Come on then. Which way...?” His voice is low, and you can hear the annoyance laced through it. You grin and head off in a different direction, looking behind you at the angry blonde planted on the sidewalk.

“Well come on, Red Riot will be pissed if you leave me alone.” You smirk as his scowl deepens. Since he more or less promised your safety to his partner, that left you free to push his buttons. You weren’t very happy about being yanked like that, but fuck you loved the aggression that the blonde exuded. Every scowl and squint were sending chills down your spine and you wanted to see if you could get him yelling at you before you got back to your apartment. Fuck, that would give you something to get off to for months.

“Fine.” You hear the stomping of boots following you and you can’t help the smirk pulling at your lips. This was fun. Your heart was still pounding in your chest being so close to him, talking to him, teasing him, but you liked to think that you were holding your own.

You annoyed him with chatter and banter for the whole ten-minute walk to your small apartment, easily swapping between teasing him (there’s a hole in your uniform Ground Zero, are you getting slow?) and yammering about anything and everything happening around you. Ground Zero might think it was nerves, and he wouldn’t be entirely wrong. Your nerves were firing off like sparklers, bright and heated, but it was mostly the thrill of watching the storm cloud that darkened your favorite hero’s face as you walk.

You’re twirling as you go down the sidewalk, generally making a nuisance of yourself just to annoy him further, when suddenly you’re overcome with a dizzy spell. You stop twirling and put a hand to your head, the world spinning around you as you start to fall. You hear loud boot stomps and then strong arms are wrapping around you, catching you before you hit the ground.

“Fuck, do you have no sense of self-preservation? Why would you do shit like that after you just had a head injury?” Ground Zero has you fixed with that familiar angry scowl and you smiled up at him. You feel almost drunk as you reach out and ‘boop’ the hero’s nose.

He snarls. “Which fucking apartment building is yours, you shitty fuck?” Your arm flops toward your building and he grumbles as he takes off to it, carrying you bridal-style in his arms.

Your head is lolling back and he’s cursing under his breath. “Fuck. Which apartment? Where are your keys?” Your hand slips into your pocket and lazily fishes out your keys, promptly dropping them on the ground. Ground Zero curses again and crouches easily to pick them up. Your fuzzy brain has it together enough to be impressed that he’s able to squat and snatch your keys from the pavement like you weigh nothing. So strong. Swoon.

Ground Zero carries you effortlessly up the stairs to the third floor. Luckily your apartment number is on a tag on your key, so it takes him no time to find it. You aren’t really paying attention as he unlocks your door and swings it open, stepping into your home. You feel him pause, his eyes sweeping the area. You live alone and your home is small, but it’s cozy and you love it.

He spots a mass of pillows by the window in the main room and decides that is the best place to lay you. You squirm on the pile of squishy pillows and trying to make yourself comfortable; all the while Ground Zero watches you with a scowl. He knows for a damn fact that if he leaves you before you’re coherent that Kirishima will have his hide, so he’s trapped here until you wake up. Great.

He might as well try to find your bathroom and some medication, you’re bound to have a headache when you wake up fully. There’s only one door off the space you’re both currently in, so without hesitation he crosses to it and moves to open it. You open one eye in time to see Ground Zero’s hand wrap around the knob to your bedroom and you squeak out a weak protest, but the door opens. He stands in the doorway, frozen.

“...What the fuck is this.”

Shit. Now you were in for it. You try to pull yourself up, fighting the dizziness in an attempt to defuse the situation. You knew exactly what he was looking at. Your bedroom was absolutely covered in Ground Zero merch, both official and unofficial. You rise and shakily make your way to him. “Ground Zero, ah, don’t…”

He whirls on you, eyes narrowed. “You weren’t trapped between our fights. You came specifically to watch me.” It’s not a question and your cheeks color as you nod.

He inhales and turns from you, stepping into your bedroom and looking around at the amount of stuff. Posters, figurines, plush pillows that look like his grenade gauntlets. His eyes sweep your bed and pause at the elongated shape hidden under the blankets. Without asking for permission he rips back the black and orange comforter and you gasp as he reveals a body pillow of himself.

“Are you fucking kidding me, (Y/N)?” Luckily it’s on the tame side and not the lewd side.

Then Ground Zero flips the pillow over. He looks at you with raised eyebrows. Your face floods with heat and you turn you turn away from him; missing the cocky smirk that graces his lips for a split second.

“If you have this so brazenly in your bed, what the fuck else are you hiding in here?”

You eke out another protest as he prowls around to the other side of your bed, zeroing in on a pair of doors. He opens the first, but it’s your small bathroom. The blonde hero shoots you a look and closes it, then grins as he opens the other one.

“People always hide weird shit in their closets…” He rips the door open and instead of a quick look like he did in the bathroom, he begins pulling your hanging clothes to the side, checking the floor, sweeping his hands on the shelf. He finds the thing you’re dreading quickly – a small box shoved in the corner of your highest shelf.  “Hmm. Looks suspicious.”

He pops it open with a smirk that quickly vanishes, and you want to sink into the floor and die. You know exactly what’s in the box, and there’s a reason it’s hidden where it is.

Ground Zero holds up the bondage harness as you watch, mortified, his eyes sweeping the black and orange straps. "Is this... is this official merch? I'm going to kill my entire marketing team."

"No. I, um..." You swallow, averting your eyes as your cheeks flush. "I made it."

Ground Zero stares at you for a second, then a grin slowly curls up the corner of his mouth. "Yeah? You made it?"

You nod. "There's, um. There’re matching arm binders that look like your gauntlets. And leg binders that look like your boots." You risk raising your eyes to look at him and you feel the breath knocked out of you at the hungry, feral look in his eyes.

"Put it on then.” His grin widens as he throws the harness at you.

You catch it, acting more out of reflex than anything. “What?!”

“If you're so desperate for my cock. Fucking earn it."

He casually fishes out the arm and leg restraints, looking them over the way he looked at the harness. “You fucking heard me. If you want it, you have to work for it.” Crimson eyes flick to you. “Especially after the way you fucking teased me the whole walk here.”

Teased him? I mean yeah, you were a little sassy, but… your eyes widen in understanding. He likes the sass. That made you look at all his glares and glances in a new light, and… Your eyes flick to the heat in them now. Fuck were you in for it, and fuck were you all about it.

“I’m not going to say it again. Put. It. On.”

His voice is like steel and you drop the harness on your bed, hands going to your shirt. Fuck, was this really happening? Were you really going to do this? You hesitate as you toy with the hem of your shirt and Ground Zero uncrosses his arms, cupping his palms, and lets off a few warning sparks. Your heart leaps into your throat and you yank the shirt over your head, throwing it nearly across your room before yanking off your pants and kicking them after the shirt.

You look at Ground Zero as you stand in your underwear, and he motions to the small garments. Your face heats up as you slowly slide those off too. At his raised brow you pick up the harness, carefully stepping into it.

“I uh, I can’t put this on by myself. It’s why I’ve never worn it before.” Your face flushes, the harness straps hanging from your frame. Ground Zero shifts his weight, moving like a cat stalking prey. He slowly walks around you, reaching out for the straps, and pulling them tightly into place.

“So, I’m the only one to see you like this, hah?” His voice is low and rumbling, hot like raked coals.

You shudder and nod.

He pulls the strap he’s tying tighter and leans into your ear. “Good. It had better fucking stay that way.” The words spike directly to your core and you groan, immediately moving to slap a hand over your mouth. He just chuckles darkly and finishes tightening the straps, and you look down on yourself. The harness is very nice, if you do say so yourself. You can’t help but feel a little proud of your handiwork.

Then you notice Ground Zero holding the arm and leg binders and grinning.

You immediately start to shake your head, but he just grins wider. “Ah ah, you made them, you must be dying to try them out.”

You’re only semi-surprised at the skill and nimbleness that he displays locking you into the binders, and you wonder if this is something he does regularly. Your arms are twisted behind your back and locked into place, and Ground Zero guides you down to the floor so he can use the leg binders to keep you in a kneeling position. It’s a good thing he has those huge knee pads on his hero outfit – they provide an excellent cushion from your hardwood floor. You’re glad you included them.

“There. And now that you’re all nice and tied up…” He walks to the front of you as he removes his gloves and reaches down, a calloused thumb teasing at your lower lip. You immediately open your mouth and he gives an approving rumble deep in his throat, using the pad of his thumb to stroke your eager tongue.

You roll your eyes back in your head at the flavor – he tastes like rich caramel. The scent rises off him now that his hands are so close to your face. You’re vaguely aware that it has something to do with his quirk, and that the nitroglycerin he sweats can be toxic, but you’re way too into him being in your mouth to care. He grasps your chin with his fingertips, holding your jaw in place from the inside. You give a small whine, closing your lips to suck on his thumb.

“Greedy little slut, aren’t you?” He pulls the thumb out and wipes your saliva on your cheek. “You know, that body pillow you got there? It’s fucking wrong.” He smirks a little, hooking the thumb that was in your mouth through a belt loop. “I bet you want to see the real thing, don’t you? You’re dying for it. I can see it in your eyes.” You whimper and nod, your eyes immediately going to the crotch of his pants. “Well too bad. I’m not done looking through your shit.”

You let out a much louder whine as he turns away from you.

“Let’s see now. I’ve already checked the closet, how about… in here?” He moves to your nightstand and yanks open a drawer, but all that’s in it are a few odds and ends. He gives you a scowl and slams it closed before pulling open the second one. That one yields much more fruitful results, and you feel like your face can’t get any hotter as Ground Zero lifts out a ball gag colored like a grenade, and a blindfold in the shape of his mask. He gives you a very direct look before carefully laying the items on your bed, then dives back in. Next, he comes out with a thin paddle made of wood with a slab of rubber on it, the rubber looking like a boot imprint.

“What the fuck is this?” He squints at the tread, then lifts his own boot and looks at it. “Is this my fucking boot print? How the fuck did you even get this?”

“Someone… after a fight in your district, someone made a casting of your boot print in the dirt. I uh, I bought it and cast the rubber to make a spanking paddle… with your boot tread on it.” You swallow a little. “I’m glad to know it’s authentic.” You give a tiny, nervous chuckle.

He stares at you for a second and then drops the paddle on the bed.

“You filthy fucking bitch. You just want me to walk all over you.” There’s definitely a vein of arousal in his voice, and when he turns you can see that the crotch of his pants is tighter than it was when he was standing in front of you. He shifts through the rest of the drawer, casually putting a bottle of lube on top of the night stand.

Without a word he gets on his knees and looks under your bed, pulling out another box. You’re so far beyond embarrassed at this point. The delicate lace of arousal in his words, the strain against his pants, you’re going to get fucked stupid by the hero you idolize. You wish desperately that your leg binders didn’t keep your thighs spread, robbing you of any friction you might have been able to produce for yourself.

Your breath intakes sharply as Ground Zero returns up from the floor, holding a sizeable black and orange dildo. “Did you fuckin’ make this too?” He’s catching on that all your sex toys are in his trademark black and orange.

You shake your head. “Commission,” you squeak out.

“Ah, you keep my dildo right under your bed, hah? Has to be in easy reach so you can stuff yourself as soon as you need to feel my cock in you?”

Your breath intakes harshly at the words. “Yes.”

He stares at you with hard eyes for a second. “…Fuck.”

He stands, eyes drilling into you as he pulls off his boots. Next go his gauntlets, clattering to the floor, followed by his top, and despite the fact that you’ve seen his naked chest countless times in either battle damaged costumes or professional photo shoots, you’re not prepared for the real thing.

You make a hiccup-y gasp, and his grin goes feral.

“Be a good boy and don’t move.” He closes the distance between you and easily scoops you into his arms, placing you on the bed with your back facing him. He glances at the hardwood floor where you were originally sitting. “Tch. Haven’t even fucking touched you and you’re already making a fucking mess.” He gestures at the floor where a small pool of liquid betrays how turned on you already are. You feel a slight sliver of shame but it’s heavily outweighed by the sheer force of your arousal.

You watch as Ground Zero, now stripped of everything but pants and socks, moves behind you again. Hands reach out and caress your sides, softer than you thought the blonde was capable of. You moan, trying to arch your back in the tight bindings. You hear a chuckle behind you and then clothed hips are grinding into your ass, the feather soft finger tips now grabbing your waist hard enough to leave bruises. You cry out, pushing your ass back into the hips, and are rewarded with a soft groan as the cleft of your ass encompasses the hard dick in Ground Zero’s pants. Your eyes widen – he wasn’t kidding, your body pillow did him no justice.

“The fuck do you think you’re doing? I didn’t say you could have that yet.” He smacks the round globe of your ass with his hand, then releases you.

You pant in need, trying to push your hips back again, desperately trying to feel his length against your body again. He makes his ‘tch’ noise and you bite your lip. You can feel him move behind you, then his arm comes in to view and he’s grabbing the boot paddle. Your breath hitches in your throat as the wooden handle slowly drags backwards across your messy bed. He’s going this slowly on purpose, you know it. He wants you to anticipate what’s coming.

You freeze as you feel the ridged rubber slide sensually across your ass.

“You ever use this before?” Ground Zero is practically purring behind you.

“N-no.” Your breath leaves you in another shaky hiccup.

“Why the fuck not?” The boot tread continues to rub across your flesh as Ground Zero’s voice gets a little angry.

“No one was good enough b-but you.”

The tread stops and you hear a breathy ‘fuck’ behind you before the blonde hero is pulling his arm back and snapping it forward again. The rubber tread of the boot slams into your cheek and you cry out. It didn’t hurt as badly as you expected – maybe it was the thickness of the boot. Either way, it was the perfect opening.

“T-that all you got, Ground Zero?” Your breath is coming out harsh, but you make damn sure that he can hear the antagonistic tone in your voice.

You hear a growl behind you and the boot flies down again, this time you can feel the bite of the tread marks in your ass. You hope it is going to leave an imprint.

“Hah, I t-thought you were strong, Ground Zero.”

You tense as you hear an aggressive snarl and feel a quick movement behind you, followed by the sound of glass shattering. You’re able to glance to your left and see the broken remains of your table lamp on the floor next to the paddle.

You’re a little annoyed, until you hear his quirk spark to life behind you, and your heart stops again.

“You’re such a fuckin’ brat, hah? Just gotta be fucking mouthy? Well if you like my quirk so much, let’s see how you can handle it.”

The sparking sound intensifies, and you’re barely able to hold your breath before Ground Zero’s hand slaps against your cheek. Oh, oh FUCK yes. This is what you want. The sting is enough to bring tears to your eyes and it radiates across your flesh like fire. You can’t hold back your moan, and you lean forward more to present your ass better. He gives you a matching slap on the other side.

“Not so cocky now, are you?” Twin slaps to both sides again. He keeps going, hands still ignited, more and more until you’re sobbing, and he can see the outline of his handprint reddening your ass. “Fucking perfect.” He grins and places one more playful slap, your hips bucking in response.

Ground Zero moves to the front, grabbing your jaw in his hands roughly. “Open your mouth.” You do so without hesitation, and he grabs the ball gag with his free hand. His crimson eyes investigate your mouth for a few beats, and you take the chance to admire how handsome his face is. He is still wearing his mask, and there’s soft grey streaks from his battle on his neck and cheek. Then he leans forward a little and you wonder for a second if he is going to kiss you, but before you can close your mouth, he spits into it and stuffs the ball gag in.

“Good boy,” he purrs, tying the gag around your head. He smirks as he moves behind you again. You’re shivering in anticipation of what he’s going to do next.

The ball gag prevents your loud moan as your ass cheeks are separated and his tongue licks a long strip from your ballsack to your asshole. He doesn’t speak, he just starts to circle his tongue around the rim of your ass, inching the fingers of his right hand closer while keeping your cheeks spread. You fall forward as he hikes your hips up, just able to turn your head to prevent your face from pressing directly into the mattress. Your eyes are rolling in the back of your head as he fucks his tongue in and out of your hole, growling softly at the whimpers you’re making that are muffled by the gag stuffing your mouth. He stops suddenly, mouth and hands disappearing from your skin, and you let out a high-pitched whine at the loss of contact.

Ground Zero laughs and reaches over to the bottle of lube he’d previously placed on your night stand. He positions himself behind you once more, popping open the cap of lube and pulling one of your cheeks to the side. He squirts the lube directly onto your hole, grinning as you shudder at how cold it is. The hand not holding your cheek circles your hole, teasing, not dipping in. It’s not until you push your hips back that he slips his finger inside, eliciting a groan from both of you.

He slowly works you open, watches you swallow his digit eagerly, his erection straining against the pants of his hero costume. You rock your hips back into him, your eagerness clear on your face as you pant around the ball gag. You choke out another muffled moan as he adds a second finger, hips rocking back harder. You need more, you need him to fill you. He lets a third finger slip it, scissoring all three to stretch the tight ring of muscle.

“Mm, yeah. Gotta stretch you open so you can take my cock, right?” You give a high-pitched groan, unable to control yourself as the thought of taking his cock sends you over the edge. You ride through your orgasm on his fingers, eyes squeezed closed, and he stops moving them. “Did you already cum just from the thought of it? Damn, you really are desperate for my cock, aren’t you?” You can hear the ego in his voice, and he removes his fingers. This is it. You’re gonna get to cum on Ground Zero’s dick.

You feel the blunt head prodding at your entrance, but it feels strangely cold. You open your eyes and Ground Zero’s wearing a cocky grin, pants still zipped up, with the head of your dildo breaching you. You pout, or at least you pout as best as you can with your gag in your mouth, and the hero laughs. His grin is almost maniacal as he twists his wrist, watching your ass swallow the black and orange toy. Your pout doesn’t last long because the feeling of being stretched has you groaning again, pushing back against it, trying to take it further. He stops once the toy is bottomed out inside you.

You squirm against it, groaning as it rubs against your walls, watching the explosion hero as he slowly walks back around to the other side of your bed. He reaches down and unbuckles the gag, pulling it from your head. He pulls you up, positioning you so that you’re sitting on the dildo but pushes on your shoulders so that your head bows back down. Not quite all the way to the bed, but level with his dick.

“Stay,” he murmurs, and then reaches for the buckle of his pants. You hover there, eyes locked on the movements of his hands, your mouth already open and salivating. He moves slow, watching your face with an intense hunger. He pulls the pants off, sliding them down his muscular thighs, and kicking them off. His boxer briefs are straining to hold his erection and there is a damp spot where the head is, betraying how much your reactions are affecting him.

He palms his own cock through his underwear, smirking down at you. “Do you think you’ve earned this?” His voice is low, dark. Your nose is filled with the scent of caramel again and you nod. “Are you sure? I’m not.” His fingers slowly wrap around his shaft, pressing the outline out harder through his underwear. “Beg for it.”

“Please, Ground Zero, I need it, I need you, please just fuck me!” you immediately plead. Your body is squirming, and you open your mouth, sticking out your tongue flat and looking up at him. He bites his lip and pulls his underwear down, his cock bobbing just out of reach of your mouth.

“Keep your mouth open.” His voice is a low rumble and he holds his dick by the base, rubbing the head across your tongue and lower lip, smearing his precum on your skin. He doesn’t quite taste like caramel here, not like his hands and not like he smells, but he does taste sweet. You moan softly, enjoying the flavor, fighting all your instincts to not close your mouth and take him in as far as he can go. “Fuck, good boy. Good boy.” He presses his cock in, slowly, until it reaches the back of your throat. “Close your mouth.”

You moan and do as your told, immediately curling your tongue around the shaft and sucking deep. He chokes out a moan and the sound sends a spike of arousal to your core, making you clench around the toy. He gently pumps his hips, sliding in and out for a few strokes. One hand caresses the top of your head and your heart flips at the tender treatment, but then he grins and tangles his hand roughly into your hair, snapping his hips harder. He starts to fuck your face in earnest, using his hand in your hair as an anchor to keep you in place. You start to take quick breaths in between his thrusts, trying to relax your throat so he can fuck into it. You’re rewarded by a loud moan the first time he does, his hips stuttering as he rocks back and forth in your throat. He pulls his cock out of your mouth, rubs your lips with it, and then shoves it right back in.

“Fuck yeah.” His motions are fluid and graceful, he fucks like he battles. He’s gives you no time to swallow as he snaps his hips in and out, your saliva pooling and running down your chin every time he pulls them back. He finally pulls out one last time, holding himself at the base and looking down at your messy face.

Without looking, Ground Zero reaches into the drawer and retrieves a line of small packets. He rips one off the line and looks at it, then rolls his eyes back. “Okay, I know you didn’t make these.” You give him a shaky smile, still covered in your own drool, as he stares at the condom packet’s slogan. ‘BAKU BRAND: Reliable enough for your biggest explosions!’

He shrugs and rips open the condom, moving around to the back again. He rubs a hand over the print he left on your ass before slowly pulling out your dildo and lining himself up to take its place. He lets his hands crackle with his quirk as he slams his hips in, and suddenly you’re stuffed full with Ground Zero’s cock, and it’s like a dream come true. The hero immediately starts a brutal pace, shoving your face forward into the mattress with every thrust. You cry out with each pump, and it only takes a handful before you’re clamping down around his cock again, shooting cum into your blankets for the second time.

“Nngh, FUCK! You’re so tight. That’s right, cum on my cock.” His voice sounds harsh, like he’s losing control as he keeps pounding into you. His fingertips are digging into your hips again, definitely bruising, as he yanks you back into him. He slams into you one last time with a hoarse shout and you know he’s cumming. His hand reaches around to squeeze your neglected cock and that small pressure and the thought that Ground Zero was cumming in you was enough to get you off one last time, your walls clamping a little weaker around him than the first two times. He holds there for a moment, holding you up as you sag on the bed. He slips out and you hear the snap of rubber as he removes the condom.

“Damn,” he sighs, smacking your ass a little more playfully once more, “That was good. You freaky little shit.”

His footsteps leave the room.

He’s back a moment later, undoing the bindings of the restraints. Your body sinks into your bed in exhaustion and you follow him with your eyes as he moves into your bathroom. You hear your bath water running and blink as Ground Zero steps back into your bedroom, then back out of it into the main area. He’s walking around like he owns the place, and if you could move your body at all you’d say something about it.

He comes back again and lifts you into his arms, carrying you the same way he did on the way in to your apartment.

“Here.” He holds a glass of water to your lips and tilts it. You look at him, confused, as you sip from the glass. “Good. Let’s get you cleaned up.” He carries you into your bathroom, holding you until the water fills halfway. You think he brushes his lips across your temple as he waits but you feel so out of it that you aren’t entirely sure. Once the level is acceptable he is carefully lowering you into the half-filled bath. You hiss at the hot water and he immediately adjusts the temperature. He leaves the glass on the floor. “Keep drinking that. Don’t fucking drown.”

He leaves the room again.

If you weren’t so utterly, deliciously sore you would wonder if you were dreaming. You’re only mildly aware that he comes back at one point to turn the water off before disappearing again like some kind of shitty blonde ghost.

The warmth is seeping into your bones and you’re feeling drowsy. You’re not sure how long you spend drifting in and out, but you aren’t aware when Ground Zero comes back in.

“Hey.” His voice is soft, and you open your eyes, blinking at him with a small smile. “Lean forward so I can wash your hair.” You lean forward as best as you can, assisted by the hero’s hands more than you actually do yourself. You’re able to hold yourself up by bracing your arms on the sides of the tub, and you hear the pop of a bottle as Ground Zero opens your shampoo. Then his hands card through your hair. You can’t help but let a small moan slip from the relaxing sensation. He’s being so much gentler than you thought he was capable of, especially after how rough he’d just been.

He rinses your hair then carefully washes you with your body soap.

Once he’s convinced you’re clean enough he pulls the drain on the tub, helping you to stand and wrapping you in a towel. You’re not so pathetic anymore and you’re able to walk, albeit shakily, back into your room without his assistance.

“Get some pajamas. Don’t put them on yet.” Gentle or not his tone still leaves no room for disobedience, and you pull out a pair of boy shorts (Ground Zero ones, obviously) and a black tank top to leave on your bed. Ground Zero himself comes back out from your bathroom with the glass you didn’t finish and some aspirin. “Take this and finish the fucking water like I already said to.”

You take the pills and sip on the water, watching him sleepily. He’s rifling through his pants pockets, still in his underwear, and pulls out a small green tube. “Alright, lay on your stomach.” He rolls his eyes at the look you give him. “No, not for sex, this is fucking aloe vera. If I don’t put it on your ass it’ll burn for a week.” He does give you a smirk at that, and you place the water on your nightstand so you can crawl onto your bed and lay on your stomach. His rough hands soothingly rub the aloe into your abused skin, and you can’t help drifting off to sleep again. There’s no sass left, only satisfaction. This time though, you don’t wake up when he’s done. You vaguely feel yourself being shifted around, carefully dressed, and tucked into bed. You feel the push of something warm, soft, and sweet onto your mouth and you wonder if you’re dreaming about him kissing you.

When you do wake up it’s almost the afternoon the following day. You’re dressed in the pajamas you picked out and tucked tightly into your bed. You sit up, still feeling sore, and you can’t help but wonder if you’re imagining the whole of last night. It wouldn’t be the first time you had a dream like that, and it definitely wouldn’t be the last. Pity you didn’t wake up next to him, though. You ease out of bed and stretch, popping your back a little, before shuffling into the kitchen. On your counter top there’s an envelope. You tilt your head and slowly grab it, pulling it open. Inside is paper yen and a note. You pull the note out and open it.

“There’s food in the fridge. Make sure you fucking eat it. Cash is for the lamp I broke.”

You smile a little and skim further down the page for more writing. Your eyes widen at the phone number, but you about drop the paper at what’s scribbled underneath it. “For when you want to be a brat again. Maybe if you’re good, next time will be a creampie.

- GZ”

[theodora3022]

Headcanons of Yandere! Inasa Yoarashi

Request: Reader is a female UA student with a strong wind quirk, Inasa Yoarashi met her during the provisional license exam. She is not particularly charming or beautiful, but she peaked Inasa’s interests. Normally, she is a friendly person. However when he tried to talk to her, she would give a curt reply, clearly wants nothing to do with him. What angers him more is: She is close to Shoto Todoroki! Little did Inasa knows she is avoiding him because she is insecure about her control over the winds, she fears that the winds might favour Inasa and she would be left quirkless. Head canons please. Today is the wind boy’s birthday and there’s just so little content of him...He is underrated.

Notes: Interesting suggestion! Today is indeed his birthday, I shall tend to your request at once! I been wanting to write about him for a while ngl, but I just cannot find an exact idea. Thank you for this amazing idea, anon. There’s not much information about his personality so I don’t worry this being OOC hehe.  Sorry if this turns out to be a bit Yandere… Man this took way longer then expected, please enjoy!

Update: Sequal No.1, Sequal.2(Coming soon)

Some of this is inspired by @reinawritesbnha​‘s post. Go give it a read! It’s one of the best I ever seen.

Warning: Violence(non-graphic), yandere, kidnapping, dub con, implied breeding kink (? Idk this is the first time I wrote something like this)

You are a strong pro-hero in training. You can command airflows to your will, any gas is under your disposal. It is only a matter of time before you become the big three of your year. Even Bakugou does not want to anger you. You are a powerful tempest towards your enemies. Overall, you are quite confident about your abilities. 

That is, before you met Inasa Yoarashi during the provisional license exam.

When you first saw him, you feel this sense of…familiarity. Even though you never met him before, you cannot shake this feeling of connection with Inasa.

Then you felt his cold glance towards your direction. But when his eyes met yours, his lips curl up into a big grin and bowed slightly.

“I am Inasa Yoarashi, also known as Gale Force, from Shiketsu High. And what is your name, beautiful miss from UA?” Man, he is loud.

Ah, so he is Gale force. You learned about him when picking out your hero name, he also has a wind quirk. Then it strikes you: what if the winds like him better? What if they just abandon me while he is around? Those thoughts make you feel helpless, the scenario of being quirkless terrifies you to no end.

The blush of being called “beautiful” is gone, instead you replace it with a stoic face: “Pleasure to meet you, Mr Yoarashi. I am (F/N) (L/N), also known as (hero name). Come on Shoto, they are almost starting, we should get going. Please excuse us.”

You walk away, smiling at Shoto. Leaving Inasa there, angry and confused.

He immediately regrets withdrawing his application from UA. If he had been in your school, it is him you would smile and befriend now, instead of that wicked Todoroki! The way you are calling his first name, so intimate, just sends anger through his brain.

So, you have a wind quirk too, huh? No wonder he feels this instant connection with you.

Froze there for a couple of seconds, until Nagamasa Mora called him. “What has gotten into you, Inasa? The exam is going to start soon.” Ashamed to admit his true feelings, Inasa would brush off the older man’s concern, and pretend nothing had happened.

Words cannot describe how he felt when he saw you in your hero costume. Like Inasa, you had chosen to put a thick jacket on. The skies can get quite cold, after all. His looks practical, with multiple tubes to help regulate the air currents. But your grey coat looks like an expensive piece from a boutique, the edges even has fur for decorations. Inasa think your look fits for a scroll in the snow, instead of a battlefield. It’s probaly for disguise to fool villians. You have not fully button up the coat yet, he can still glimpse the (favorite colour) spandex bodysuit underneath. If this has not been an exam, Inasa swears he would ask you to go to dinner with him, here and now.

Feeling his gaze fixated on you, you tense up nervously. Is he finding ways to take the winds away from me? Horrified, you decide to stay far away from him during the exam as possible.

Shoto noticed your nervous state, he asks you what is wrong. You shrug, stating it is just pre-exam stress.

Every time Inasa sees you and Shoto’s friendly interactions, his heart bleeds. But he decides to wait until after the exam to take any action. He also decides to impress you with his outstanding performance in the exam.

When you choose the furthest area from him, it left him feeling disappointed. So he chooses a tall building as his battleground, to better utilize his quirk and to watch you from afar.

Unlike his approach with winds, which focus on intensity and strength, your winds concentrate their efforts on speed. Stealth and fast, most people only catch your afterimage in the corner of their eyes.

Your strategy is creating vacuums around their heads. When your opponents are choking due to lack of oxygen, you press them against a solid surface to knock them out. Then you score with the tennis balls, done. Simple yet effective. It has only been five minutes into the exam, and you are already finished, with minimal efforts of two people unconscious.

Inasa saw all of this from the top of the building, of course. Like an assassin of the night, you move with such grace, and that speed of yours! Truly amazing. He had never thought of creating vacuums before. He guesses this is one of your ultimate moves.

He might just be curious about you before, but after seeing you fly around with that incredible swiftness, Inasa find himself becoming more smitten with you.

It is settled in his mind: he has to have you. Just imagine how what a power couple you two would be! The wind duo will be invincible. And your children would have the strongest wind quirk ever.

In the break room, you sigh with relief; you reached your goals: stay furthest away from Inasa as possible and passing with negligible efforts. Taking out your (favorite snack) from your backpack, you decide to reward yourself a little.

But then you find Inasa grinning at you across the room. Your good mood vanishes instantly.

Talking to Shoto to distract yourself from his burning stare, you felt his gaze moved away.

“That Yoarashi guy, I saw him in the entrance exam for recommended students. I was surprised that he went to Shiketsu.”

Phew. You were delighted to hear him say that. You would not want to deal with this situation on a daily basis.

Before you can feel that delight, however. Inasa invites himself into your conversation.

“Your speed is incredible! The way you master your winds is truly impressive. We should train together sometime. We can share our experiences on the winds!”

Being the nice person you are, you did not ignore him, trying to bring yourself to like him. You do want to share experience with a fellow wind user.

You did not notice how he left Shoto out of the conversation, completely. Not that he wants to socialize with Inasa, but still.

To Inasa, you remind him of the warm spring breeze. A ray of sunshine, easygoing and friendly, the complete opposite of Todoroki.

Of course, you are unaware of his ridiculous plans involving a future together and children. You just see him as a enthusiastic, loud boy.

Shoto can feel his obsession thoughts for you, however. After Inasa left to prepare for the second part, Shoto warned you subtlety. But you did not take it seriously, saying that is just how Inasa make friends. “He’s like that with everyone. No need to worry.”

The second exam you devoted yourself into rescuing. Shoto said he would deal with the villain. So you just focused on dealing with injured “civilians”. After gaining knowledge of their “injuries”, you lift the debris with winds and deliver them to the first-aid station.

It was after the exam you find out the two had fight while dealing with the villain.

They did not pass. You comforted Shoto about it, leaving Inasa upset. He failed the exam too; he needs your comforting words just as much as Todoroki!

You exchanged numbers with Inasa upon depart, promise him to train together soon. You fear of inferiority is gone; being this close to him, you can sense his power is not as strong as yours. Evidently it is him who should worry about falling out of the wind’s favour.  

Your friends, especially Mina, tease you about your little encounter with the other wind user. Calling him your “Shiketsu boyfriend”. You yell for them to stop, saying you only seen him as a friend.

Inasa’s friends are pretty much the same. Although he is a year younger, his sociable nature made him approachable. He shows off now he got your number, and they all laughed. “She can create vacuums and suffocate people; I would hate to get on (y/n)’s bad side.”

After the exam, he wrote out his plan of attack, staying up until 2am to do so. Shiketsu forbid its students to have any romantic relationships, so Inasa wasn’t planning on having one with you. Your relationship with him will remain platonic until you both graduate.

It involves an arranged marriage and an immense sum of dowry to bribe your parents. His father always taught him to go after what he wants with all his might. Inasa cannot wait until you graduate and move in with him. It is such a shame a powerful hero like you have to become a homemaker so soon. But he cannot have you swinging around the city in spandex, they are for his eyes only. He wants to keep you in the safety of his house, to train his brood of offspring. Yes, that is what your prestigious UA diploma for-for his children’s head start in life.

Stalking you would be difficult since you can sense the movement of air around you. They report any abnormalities to you at once. So he watched you from afar, how you shoot across the sky like a bullet to go to school every morning, how you relaxed in mid air during lunch break, or how you laugh with your friends outdoors.

Sometimes you would feel like someone is watching you, but the winds say all clear. So you just mark it as you are being too self-conscious and do not care.

You two would occasionally text and train together/help each other with homework on weekends, getting lunch together afterwards. him acting like nothing less then a gentleman. You start viewing him as a friend, despite what Shoto said before.

Inasa is glad that you did not seem to take interest in any boys during your high school time. If you end up inTodoroki’s arms, he does not know what he will do to Shoto.

A week after you graduate UA your parents told you they have received a marriage proposal. They have already accepted it, so there is no room for negotiation.

You are shocked to surprised finding your intended to be Inasa Yoarshi. You thought of him only as a training buddy prior to this.You ask to postpone the marriage until you become a full pro-hero but was shut down rather brutally. He said he will provide for you. There is no need for you to work when he can just take care of everything.

“Don’t worry, love. I’m going to take such great care of you! You can teach the children at home, so they can get a head start in hero life!”

Avoiding him would be pretty easy considering your speed, you can carry on with hero work as if nothing has happened, even moving to another city. However if this goes on for too long, Inasa will kidnap you.

Most likely to steal you away from your apartment at night, as he is as good at being stealthy as you. You live alone, it was a breeze. Some Chloroform and ropes would get the job done. 

You would wake up in a nicely furnished room one morning, quirk-cancelling collar locked on your neck. With chains long just enough to reach the bathroom.

Inasa hates seeing you upset, but it is all going to be better once you get used to your new employment: his sweet wife, the mother of his children.

Will consider letting you go outside for grocery shopping if you been good, with his company of course.

He would never raise a hand on you, no matter how much you screams and reisists him. Being so understanding, Inasa knows you need some time to come around. 

He loves nothing more then watching you do domestic chores, this man got issues. He expects you stay at home, cook dinner for him and take care of him. Which is a nightmare for you, since you despise housewife life.

You are so helpless without your winds to protect you, so you tried to rip this goddamn collar off everyday. But it was futile: only Inasa has the key.

You went to bed with him just to get some time outdoors, since your claustrophobia is acting up. You didn’t expect him to be so gentle and soft. But you regret it soon after because he become insatiable afterwards.

Then two months later you found yourself in the bathroom, staring at a positive pregnacy test. 

Once Inasa knows about your condition, he will loosen the restrictions. You can now use your quirk under his supervisions: it’s excerise, and the two of you both need it.

He would take you to comittee events, to go visit his friends, even letting you see your friends from time to time. You also got your phone back, but with a tracking app installed on it. 

Now all he has to do is wait a couple more months to meet his child.

[chasing-classics]

Tell Me You Still Want It- Coco Cruz x Reader (Smut)

Pairing: Johnny ‘’Coco’’ Cruz x Reader

Warning(s): Smut, angst, language, unprotected sex

Summary: After your breakup, you and Coco are feeling bitter. Everything changes one night during a party, where the reason why you two broke up is revealed. Smut ensues.

 You set down the bottles of beers for the boys, ignoring the wolf whistles and feeling of several eyes on you. The club was holding some sort of celebration, for what you didn’t know. What you did know is Bishop asked if you could help EZ with bartending and setting up, given the amount of people who currently flooded the clubhouse and yard. The fact that it was the middle of July and the night air was hot and humid didn’t make things any more enjoyable. You were left with the decision to either wear a tank top and shorts or die of heatstroke. You questioned if the latter would’ve been better as one of the prospects from another charter whistled at you.

 ‘’Fucking savages,’’ you scoffed, earning a deep chuckle from EZ.

 ‘’He’s pissed, you know,’’ EZ grinned, nodding his head over to the direction of the pool table.

 You glanced, seeing Coco nervously tap his foot, going through his pack of cigarettes as his hawkish eyes zeroed in on you. You shook your head, the corners of your mouth turning up slightly. ‘’It’s not his place to be pissed. He ended things, I’m just doing what I get paid to do,’’ you replied, wiping down the counter and ensuring your station looked presentable.

‘’He loves you, y/n. He’s just going through things,’’ EZ offered, taking the clean shot glasses out.

You shrugged his words off. ‘’Should’ve thought of that before he pissed away three years of our lives.’’ EZ wisely didn’t say anything. He just placed a comforting hand on your shoulder and patted you before leaving to get more cases of beer.

 ‘’Hey mami, can I get three shots for my sponsor and his brothers?’’ a prospect called to you.

 You fought the urge to roll your eyes, biting down on your lip to prevent yourself from telling the youngblood to go fuck himself. You opted to just force a smile, throwing your hair back and turning around to get more shot glasses. You could feel his eyes on your backside when you bent down and it was then you really missed Coco. Had you two still been together, none of this shit would fly. Despite him not being the most muscular of the Mayans, he made up for it with his temper and his ability to land a punch to anyone’s face before they even knew what hit them, literally.

‘’Here you go,’’ you handed the guy his shots, visibly cringing when his hand brushed against yours.

 ‘’Goddamn you’re fucking beautiful,’’ his eyes lingered on your chest. It took everything in you not to deck him. Your eyes briefly glanced in Coco’s direction, only for you to become crestfallen when one of Vicky’s girls sat down beside him, him lighting her cigarette as her tits were practically pushed against his face. You ignored the feeling of your heart breaking in your chest as you glanced at the prospect who was now clearly imagining what you looked like with your clothes off. He wasn’t bad looking, you quickly decided. And if Coco could be friendly with the blonde-haired bimbo, you could afford to let a prospect between your legs for one night.

 You smiled, leaning across the counter as your eyes traced the numerous tattoos on his arms. ‘’You don’t give up easily, do you?’’ He had one dimple, you quickly noticed as he grinned at you. He was handsome enough.

 ‘’It’s not everyday I meet a fine ass woman like yourself, querida,’’ he shrugged. You smirked at his cheesiness. ‘’So? What do I need to do to convince you to let me in those panties of yours?’’ He was blunt, awkwardly blunt, but you respected his straightforward attitude to a certain extent. You leaned in further, your breasts pushed up teasingly much to the prospect’s delight. He leaned in slightly as well, to the point you could smell the mix of beer and cologne on him.

 ‘’Bold of you to assume I’m wearing panties,’’ you whispered in his ear, eyes zeroing in on Coco once more. You smirked when you saw he was already staring, clenching his beer in his hand. You slowly licked the side of the prospect’s neck, tracing the tattoo that was embedded in the tan skin, closing your eyes in triumph when you heard a bottle break and the sound of the chair scraping against the floor.

 The poor prospect didn’t even know what hit him. Hell, you nearly got whiplash as the prospect was shoved to the floor and Coco dragged you to his dorm. The door slammed shut and you winced at thee way the entire room seemed to shake from the noise. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up as your ex glared heatedly at you.

 ‘’Take off your fucking clothes, or I rip them off,’’ Johnny seethed.

 Stupidly, you scoffed in disbelief. You weren’t able to take one step forward when he shoved you backwards onto the bed. In flash, the side of your face was pressed down into the mattress. You weren’t scared until you felt the blade of Coco’s pocketknife at your lower back.

 ‘’J-Johnny don’t-!’’ you yelped when he tore the flimsy top, leaving your back exposed.

 The humid air from earlier suddenly became ice cold as you laid beneath your ex-boyfriend, who you could feel burning your exposed skin into his memory. Specifically, the elegant lettering on your lower back that served as a constant reminder that you were undeniably his. You shivered as his rough hands traced his name on your skin, shifting a little due to your nipples hardening. His hands were quick to yank down your shorts and the growl that left his lips was not lost on you; you hadn’t been lying to the prospect about not wearing panties tonight.

 ‘’Fucking slut,’’ Coco growled, one hand tangling itself in your hair while the other busied itself with loosening his belt.

 ‘’Johnny,’’ you whimpered, half-heartedly attempting to close your legs to preserve some modesty. Those efforts were in vain when Coco shoved one leg between yours and roughly grinded his jean-covered knee against your crotch.

 ‘’You were gonna let that fucking prospect, that fucking puto, into my pussy,’’ he hissed in your ear as his belt buckle clinked in the background.

 ‘’We broke up, Johnny,’’ you managed to bite out.

 ‘’Yeah, we had a break, only for you to move on not even a week later,’’ he abruptly stopped his movements, allowing you to turn your head so you could maintain eye contact with him.

 ‘’What did you expect me to do, Coco? God, you’re such a hypocrite! You had some fake blonde on your lap the entire night and you expect me wait around like some bitch in heat for you? Fuck that and fuck you Johnny Cruz. You ended shit, you did this,’’ you all but roared, now standing up in all your glory and staring him down.

 Coco gulped, his brows furrowed and a look of pain crossed those dark eyes of his. His muscles tensed for a second, only for him to shakily exhale as he looked down at you.

 ‘’I ended shit because I panicked,’’ he huffed, the anger slowly evaporating.

 ‘’Panicked over what?’’ you asked, shoulders still tense in case his temper flared up again.

 ‘’I saw the test, y/n. I know,’’ Coco sighed, running his fingers through his hair.

 Your eyes bugged out and the air momentarily left your lungs for a split second.

 ‘’Why didn’t you tell me you thought you were pregnant?’’ Johnny asked and the look in his eyes devastated you.

 It was your turn to sigh, sitting back down on the bed, not even caring that you were still completely naked. You looked back up at your Old Man.

 ‘’I figured kids weren’t an option with you. We already have Leticia, and you never hid the fact that you didn’t want more kids. When I was late, I panicked. But when it came out negative I figured there wasn’t anything to tell you. I figured you’d just be relieved, and I. . .I wasn’t, Johnny,’’ you tried to keep your voice calm, despite the last bit hitting a nerve within you.

 You loved Letty like she was your own flesh and blood. You loved her father more than life itself. In the beginning of your relationship, you were confident that life with just the three of you would be more than enough. However, when Adelita became pregnant and you spent more time with the children of Los Olvidados, specifically when you saw how Coco was with Minnie, your heart ached for a baby with the man you loved. You’d be lying if you had said you were relieved when the test came out ‘’negative’’; you had been heartbroken.

 Johnny knelt down so that he was looking up at you, his rough but strong hand cupping your cheek.

 ‘’You wanted a baby with me?’’ he asked in the softest voice he could manage.

 Tears gathered in the corners of your eyes as you slowly nodded your head. ‘’I love you Johnny. I thought I’d be fine not having kids, but everything changed. I wanted to have a baby with you. But I knew. . .I-I knew you wouldn’t want-,’’ you sniffled as your words trailed off.

 Coco was quick to wrap his arms around your nude body. ‘’I’m so sorry, nena. I was just so angry, I thought you were hiding shit, I’m sorry,’’ he whispered into your hair. His words immediately calmed you, soothing the emotional wounds that he had left. You felt him kiss the top of your head. You each pulled away to look up into each other’s eyes. His eyes analyzed you carefully, his thumb stroking your bottom lip.

 ‘’You’re mine, querida. I fucking love you so much. Nothing would make me happier than seeing you having my kid,’’ his words shocked your entire being, but in the best way possible.

 ‘’Tell me you still want it,’’ his voice sent shivers down to your core.

 His other hand traveled up your side and cupped your right breast, fingers playing with your nipple.

 ‘’I want it,’’ you whispered as your own hands began to take off his cut.

 His lips pressed slow kisses across your jawline before turning their attention to your lips. ‘’No. Tell me exactly what you want, mami,’’ he whispered as his hand gently held the back of your head as the other’s teasing of your nipple became rougher. You let out short, breathy pants as his hand left your breast and made itself comfortable between your legs.

 ‘’J-Johnny,’’ you whimpered as two of his long digits suddenly entered you and began a brutal pace.

 ‘’Say it, mi amor. I’ll give it to you,’’ he grunted, licking the side of your neck as his fingers thrusted in and out of your tight canal. The sound of his fingers pounding away at you bounced off the walls.

 ‘’I want to have your baby, please Johnny. I need you inside me,’’ you cried, holding onto his shoulders as your pussy clenched around his digits.

 You practically sobbed when he pulled his hand away from you, but it was quickly silenced as Coco made you taste yourself when he shoved his fingers in your mouth. You could see the primal desire in his eyes and your pussy was drenched at the though of what he was going to do to you.

 ‘’I want you kneeling, hands holding onto the headboard,’’ he whispered in your ear, smacking your ass cheek to get you to hurry.

 In any other instance you would’ve sucked him off, but the week and a half of no sex left both of you desperate for one another. Your heart raced in your chest as you got into position for your Old Man, feeling extremely vulnerable despite having been with him for the past three years. This was different. Despite the roughness and almost sinfulness of it all, you knew this was different. You loved Johnny with all of your heart, and this was his way of giving everything to you, his way of letting you know he loved and believed in the two of you enough to bring that love into the world in human form.

 ‘’You ready, nena?’’ his voice brought you out of your thoughts.

 ‘’Don’t make me wait any longer, papi,’’ you whispered, your entire body heating up as his hands gripped your hips and you felt the tip of his cock at your entrance.

 Your body lurched forward as he slammed his entire length up into you while dragging your hips down. He filled you entirely with that first thrust and your cries only spurred him on. No matter how many times Coco took you or how roughly he did so, you were always so tight around his member. His thick manhood nearly pulled your body with him as he thrusted his hips wildly. You held onto the metal headboard for dear life, your lips parted as you moaned and whimpered.

 ‘’Can’t fucking wait to fill you up,’’ Coco grunted as one hand encircled your neck. Not enough to choke you, but enough to feel the way he sent your pulse racing as he fucked into you.

 Coco watched the way his angry cock disappeared into your tight folds, the way he stretched your core and how soaking wet you were. He watched the tattoo of his name on your lower back and how perfect you looked taking him. He imagined how you’d look carrying his kid, breasts full and heavy and looking like a goddess. He had never wanted anything more in his life, and he knew you were the only woman he could ever want that with.

 He pressed a kiss to your shoulder, his breath hitting your skin as his thrusts sped up. The hand on your hip made its’ way to your core and his index finger began rubbing at your sensitive clit.

 ‘’Papi,’’ you moaned, hanging your head as it became all too much to bare. You felt so full, it was almost too much. Your tits bounced with every thrust and the way you were kneeling allowed him to hit the deepest parts of you. His hold on your throat tightened slightly as he pounded away at you. You heard him groan behind you, causing you to shiver.

 ‘’Cum for me, mi amor,’’ he whispered, jaw clenched as he kept his own release at bay. His eyes rapidly alternating between the way your ass bounced from his cock to the sight of your cunt tightening around his dick.

 Your release hit you like a freight train and you convulsed against Coco. You were still dazed and lost in the waves of your release when Coco moved you so that you were now laying on your back, legs tossed over his shoulders as he chased his own release. All you could do was stare up at him as he fucked you, jaw in his firm but loving hand, whimpering at the way his skin slapped against yours.

 ‘’Fuck, take it baby. Take it,’’ he growled, pressing a hand to your lower abdomen as his cock twitched from inside you. The combination of your needy expression, the way your pussy gripped him, and the thought of him knocking you up is what did it. You both gasped when his release filled your sore pussy, tears of ecstasy rolling down your flushed cheeks. You moaned as the warmth of Coco’s cum spread inside of you, sating your pussy.

 Coco panted, pressing his forehead against your own, slowly thrusting inside you so that you milked him of his cum. He kissed you softly, your hands lazily rubbing up and down his back.

 ‘’I love you, y/n. I’m not good at this whole love shit, but I know I love you. I’m not leaving,’’ his voice pulled you from your thoughts, the two of you still intertwined and his dick still inside of you.

 ‘’I love you too, Johnny, I want this.’’ He nodded his head, meeting your eyes. The tiniest of smiles on his face.

 ‘’They say if I hit it from the back we’ll have a boy,’’ he smirked, your cheeks burning when you felt him slowly begin to harden.

 ‘’Johnny!’’ you yelped as he began pulling you to lay face down.

 ‘’My bad.’’

[cardsbizarreadventure]

💘 kiss goodbye from joelle to bowie? :O

💘 kiss goodbye

It was finally over , the fight had came to an end when Dio was officially taken down and this time it was permanently. It almost felt like they won't ever see this day come , but alas it had finally came . The journey was very heavy , but regardless they knew what was going to happen to them if they took this risk to begin with , their heroic acts and deeds won't ever be forgotten. Joelle had been waiting in the airport for at least an hour , she really couldn't wait to get home and collect herself. This journey had left her a lot of scars that she really needed time to heal and gather herself before approaching anything further. She was watching from her seat how Joseph , Jotaro and Polnareff were talking about something , but there was another whole feeling starting to knot in Joe's stomach.. perhaps she wasn't a person that liked goodbyes so much, since most of the time it meant that they won't ever see each other again, maybe she couldn't stand that feeling , she had always had problems with her emotions and she was never good at expressing them properly when it came to certain matters . A small sigh left her lips before she got herself up from her seat and picked up her bag , the moment she began to approach the trio that was standing nearby her , she heard someone call out to her.. a familiar voice... a voice she couldn't really forget. It was none other than Bowie himself. Joe felt her own heart stop for a slight moment before she turned around making sure it was him and it was without a doubt . Joseph gave Joelle an odd look from the side as she just frowned at him. Polareff gave a pat on Joseph's shoulder . ->" Let her say her goodbyes , you worry too much. " Polnareff commented before crossing his arms as Joseph just grunted a bit annoyed , he waved his hand dismissively giving her the signal that she could go say goodbye to her friend. Joe nodded as the expression on her face lit up before she approached the tall brown-haired man , looking up at him. ->" Hey. " Bowie began. ->"I guess you're leaving too, huh?" He brought it up , as Joelle's gaze darted down for a slight moment as she could feel that sensation troubling her from earlier feel a bit more tense now. Bowie just tilted his head to the side a bit curiously , surely he had known Joelle for a period of time but something seemed to bother him , maybe it was the fact that he hasn't seen this strange kind of behavior form her side at all. Was she upset? Was she angry? He couldn't quite pick the proper signal. ->"Yeah.. guess so." She finally spoke up as she just looked to the side , bringing her hand on the side of her arm , beginning to rub it nervously. Something in her wasn't allowing her to look up at him , she couldn't understand this sensation that was forming but it was really starting to bother her . Did she really feel upset..? Or was it something else perhaps? A small sigh left her lips since it felt like her words froze , she didn't know what to really say. Bowie blinked a few times as he adjusted the bag handle that was around his shoulder. ->" I thought I should say bye before I take my leave , seems like our ways are going to part from here... " He spoke up with a soothing tone. ->" I-... I suppose. " Joe barely spoke up , as she continued to look to the side . Bowie gave another odd look , as he felt the hand that was in his pocket and the item he had in there grip on it tightly , it was something he had picked up for Joelle . There was some strange conflict that Bowie that he still couldn't understand himself to a degree and why he felt a certain way , because he knew quite well what the outcome was going to be... was it really proper to give something like this to her? What was she going to think ? It felt so foolish to dive into these sort of emotions once again.. but it always felt like it was always getting the better of him. For a slight moment he thought of just pulling it out and giving it to her , but right there and right now he thought second , because a pinch of doubt was forming in his head. The fact that she wasn't

saying anything was making him feel more and more anxious , so perhaps this time he was going to step back and not fall into the trap of his mind and heart. ->" Well , I have to get going now , my plane will be leaving shortly. Goodbye Joelle. " He spoke up between a long pause at the last thing he said , he just looked away before waving his goodbye and taking his leave. Joelle was standing there , wanting to say so much but there was something blocking it entirely... what are these feelings? what was this emotion that was stinging her so hard that it almost felt like she couldn't breathe. She was so close to reach out and grab him by the arm , but she couldn't. She finally managed to look at him the moment he had turned his back and take his leave. Another kind of sensation was beginning to form in her stomach and this one was worse than before , until she felt something on her shoulder. ->" You know Joe , I don't think it's good to let all these emotions in you pile up like that and never express them. I've seen the way you look at him and the way you did now ... There is something more you want to tell him , if you miss your opportunity now , it might never come again. So what are you going to do? " Those were the exact words Joelle needed to hear right now , she felt her eyes widen for a moment until a small gasp left her lips , she felt the grip on her bag handle tighten up , until she pulled it off and threw it off her shoulder , making a run for it. ->"JOELLE!!" Joseph called out nearly about to go run after her until Polnareff paused him. ->"She'll come back , just give her a moment." Joe began to run , trying to find him among the crows that felt like more and more were forming , she began to push people to the side left and right , trying to find him. 'Where is he... where is he..' a thought crossed her mind since she couldn't see him anywhere. -> "Bowie!!" She called out wondering if he could hear her and stop for a moment , but he was nowhere to be found , Joe began to get more and more anxious by the second until she had finally spotted him right at the entrance of his license to be checked. For a moment there she panicked a lot , she didn't know how things will turn out. What if he didn't feel the same? What if this just destroys their current relationship...? She felt herself clench her fist as all of a sudden time around her paused , no one was moving. It seems like her own stand had triggered itself regardless that Joelle didn't really want to use her powers... she took a deep breath grateful for the few seconds she had to collect her thoughts completely , before she approached closer as time began to move again. She didn't even hesitate as she grabbed him by the hand and pulled him back , as the brown-haired man felt himself almost stumble backwards until he noticed who had pulled him back , he looked down at the purple-haired woman standing right in front of him about to say something. ->"Joe-..." He began until he felt the cloth of his shirt being pulled on , dragging him down towards her as soon he felt something really strange hit him ... he couldn't believe it , it seems like she had a bit more courage than himself... he felt something very warm and soft against his lips... it was Joelle's lips. It took him a while to process what just happened as he just stared down in shock at her as she finally pulled away and looked up at him very serious. ->" Listen , I know you probably don't feel the same way , but this feeling has been bothering me for a long time and I can't understand why I feel this way after spending time with you ... I don't know what came over me and I can't understand why but.. but even that time when I saw you with that woman you were trying to talk to I just... I just wanted to punch her in the face!! And I don't really know why I began to feel this kind of anger pile in ... I just ... " The blood in her cheeks began to boil , she began to panic even more as she began to throw out anything that came to her mind , wondering what he might think of her now , she felt how her

heart was going to burst out of her chest , she couldn't bare to look up at him after what she did , Joelle felt like any kind of relationship she had built with him just shattered to pieces , until something happened... she felt a pair of hands cup her face as she felt a force pull her closer , her gaze darted towards that direction until she saw Bowie's face lower in closer , pressing his lips against her own. Joe flinched slightly as she felt her entire face flush pink the moment she felt him kiss her. She took a moment before closing her eyes completely , almost melting into his gentle touch before he pulled away and just smiled softly. Joe just stared up at him with her face as red as a tomato , it almost felt like she could hear her own heartbeat in her ears because all sorts of emotions were attacking her at the same time. ->" I do feel the same way... but I never really thought it would work between us because of what kind of circumstances were thrown at us... Maybe I was just afraid that I would ruin what we had now and that's something I wouldn't live down so easily... it hurt to think about it , so I just tried to push it aside so it doesn't get more complicated... but it seems like I was completely wrong about it... " Bowie spoke up softly , as he just stared down at her red face. He felt himself relax because the anxious feeling from earlier felt like it completely disappeared . ->" I was too ... you don't hate me do you?" She looked up at him looking like she was about to cry. The smile on Bowie's face grew wider before she leaned down pressing his forehead against hers. ->" Of course not.. it's the complete opposite .. " He let out a small chuckle , as he continued to hold her face softly. Joe just closed her eyes for a moment , trying to calm down from the amount of sensations that were making even her own knees weak at the moment as they stood like that for a short period before Bowie pulled away. ->" I knew it was going to be hard to say goodbye... so I just wanted to avoid that ... but it seems like something else caught up to me and as much as it might be hard right now , I'm happy that I got to meet you.. " The brown-haired man spoke up before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small keepsake , handing it over to her. ->"I wanted to give you this a while back... not as a goodbye gift ... more like a promise that we will see each other again in time... or maybe something small to remember me by... even if we might not see each other again.." Joe took the small shaped box as she took a short moment to examine it before opening it , a small smile formed on her face as she closed it. ->"I want to give you something too... give me your hand. " She extended her hand as Bowie blinked a few times before he reached forward , Joe placed her hand on top of the inside of his palm as something in between the small space of their hands began to glow , the moment Joe pulled her hand away , there was a small yellow flower that was glowing with a very warm and vibrant energy. Bowie gasped in surprise. ->" When ever you're feeling doubts... or even feeling lonely... just remember that there is someone out there that cares for you with their entire heart and soul... I guess it wouldn't really be a goodbye gift either.. " She'd let out a small chuckle as she blushed , noticing the light blush on Bowie's face as well. ->"I know I can't keep you here forever since you have a flight to catch and I really don't want you to go ... but promise me that we will see each other again... " Joe glanced up at him with hopeful eyes , as he just did a little nod before leaning down to give her another small kiss on the lips. ->"I promise." And with that the two of them separated at that moment , even if they were far away from each other , they will always feel close no matter the distance or the circumstances . Joe waved her goodbye to the brown-haired man as he took his leave , she glanced down at the small heart shaped box in her hand as a soft smile formed on her face. "... We'll see each other again soon... I

promise you..."

[pollenat]

SF9 and 5 ways to say I love you

➛ Note: There are few indications of nsfw themes.

INSEONG

Pouting when he scolds you for taking his jacket. He doesn’t like sharing clothes, and you know it. But the material smells the same way he does. You want to be surrounded by it 24/7. His demeanor changes at your confession. The familiar darkness of his eyes softens. You think he may forgive you, but he returns to scolding, this time with you in his embrace. Still, he doesn’t take the jacket back.

The sharpness of his gaze as you press yourself closer to him. People around are talking, too busy to notice a touch-hungry couple. Yet the thought of going further in the current surroundings doesn’t please you. Inseong has much less self-control. His knuckles turn white from the tight grip on a wine-glass, his other hand reaching down your back. It’s not long after that you leave the party.

Drawing each other on napkins when you’re in a cafe. The drinks are cold by the time you finish, but you’re satisfied with the work. He laughs at the little message you’ve added. “Does loving you make me a furry?”. Your eyes meet for a short moment before he writes down a “yes”.

The vibrations of his chest that are forced by honest laughter. Curious, you attempt to look back at him, but your head can’t go far enough, and in the end it moves from his breast to shoulder. “What’s so fun-” before you can finish asking, his phone plays the same video again. Your heads collide when you join in on the laughter.

The strength of wind one very random day, when you’ve decided to go out. It doesn’t spare anyone, pushing and pulling in the chosen direction. When you finally find shelter inside the first shop you see, both you and Inseong look ridiculously messy. As you’re rearranging his torn locks, you don’t miss the way he smiles at your features. Finally, he brings his hands up to help you too, but only after your scolding.

YOUNGBIN

Sighing when he tells you to pose for a picture. He has way too many similar ones saved on his phone, but Youngbin doesn’t care about your complaints. “I need them.” “For what?” “For when you’re too busy to see me.” His answer makes you smile bashfully. The picture he takes that day becomes his favorite.

A car ride in the morning. Streets are crowded with colorful cars and sleepy workers, as they all wander somewhere with a clear destination in mind. You do as well, but not to work or school. Youngbin’s eyes catch yours, their glossy surface turning soft from the exchange. His hands are gripping a steering wheel, meant to take you far away from the city’s traffic, to the holidays in the middle of the week.

Sharing heated kisses despite the discomfort that the countertop brings to your bottom. You can’t take your attention away from Youngbin’s magnetic touch and warm breath. But there’s a thought that tries to break through his presence. Finally, he sighs in annoyance and reaches behind you to turn down the cooker. “Better safe than sorry.” introduces another series of meeting lips, now much steadier without anything to bug your minds.

He never complains whenever his head hurts, but the weight on your lap is enough to tell you everything. Youngbin sighs deeply as you press your fingers to his temples. Then he smiles shyly and says a quiet thank you, glad to have someone who understands him without words.

The way he never raises voice at you, even when the annoyance is all too evident on his face. You want to bite back, make a remark that is bound to make him more frustrated, but Youngbin leaves before you get the chance to. “I don’t want to fight any longer. Let’s talk once we both calm down.” he hesitates by the door, hand reaching forward to meet yours in a gesture of goodbye. But then he remembers you’re angry at one another, and drops the limb. You cannot miss the shadow of sadness on his face.

JAEYOON

The sight of his broad shoulders, and the warmth of his arm hugging your folded legs. TV hums in the background, easily engaging him in the latest news. To you, it’s just a background noise. Jaeyoon’s soft hair draw the end of your world, their texture lovely in touch. As your fingers massage that one spot, he leans into them, a deep sigh silencing the news anchor. He remind you of a touch-starved puppy.

Placing down your lucky word on the Srabble board. Jaeyoon scoffs at the two bonuses you are given and your winning dance. “You got lucky.” is his reasoning, which you do not question. Games like Scrabble are all about four-leaf clovers, but it won’t stop you from celebrating. Your partner watches with his arms crossed, and just as you’re about to make a turn, small smile spreads his mouth in a way best described as fond.

The clash of strength when you’re wrestling on the sand. Jaeyoon wanted to put dirty lock of seaweed on your head, which earned him a push to the ground. As you manage to distract him for long enough to sit on his chest, you stop, stunned by his radiant smile. It’s framed in sunscreen, grains of sand, and wet strands of hair. All of which take your breath away long enough for him to overpower you.

Hiding under covers during a stormy night. It’s not a reason behind your activity, rather a simple correlation, because neither you, nor Jaeyoon feel anything similar to fear. Instead, you’re grinning at one another in the darkness. His feet tangle with yours, hands twist and run over each other’s bodies, sighs melt into one. A thunderbolt lights up the world outside, but surges through your veins when the man in your embrace finally lays a kiss you’ve been waiting for.

A growing collection of cacti, neatly organized on a window sill. Each one has a name, which their buyer welcomes with amusement, but never ridiculousness. “Did you feed our children?” “Of course! Do you take me for a terrible father?” Sometimes, when he’s lost in thought, you observe his unconscious habit of touching their needles.

DAWON

Admiring his calmness as he munches on a chicken wing. Once he realizes you’re not eating, he offers you another one, his eyes innocent, hot sauce dripping from the corner of his mouth. You don’t take the wing, instead reaching forward to wipe the liquid with your thumb. Sanghyuk chokes on his food as you put the finger in your mouth.

Lying in bed, your backs facing each other, either of you scared to turn around after the argument you had. There’s no more anger, only longing to go back to normal and see the other’s face. You miss his voice, but the uneasy silence is pressing on your chest, too heavy to allow words. Instead, you move your hand back, in search of his, and when you eventually do, you’re elated to find him returning the grip.

The afternoons when you sit down on a bench, watching passersby and narrating their lives. Neither of you can stop laughing during those, attracting attention of strangers, but all of them wave you off as just another weird couple. “You have to admit, he does look like a murderer.” Sanghyuk smiles at the sound of your maniacal laughter. His arm pulls you closer to his side.

Feeling his hands resting on your sides as he approaches the conversation you’re busy with. There’s nothing possessive about Sanghyuk’s grip, although your primary companion gives you an uncomfortable smile. You’re not the type to tell the man behind you off for showing the purest sort of affection for his other half. Even if in the end, the person is quick to escape. “What a nice guy. Too bad he had to leave.” you smile at Sanghyuk’s honest cluelessness.

The sight of him dressed in an apron, fresh batch of cookies still steaming from the oven’s temperature. Frosting is bubbling in the pan, and he curses as soon as he realizes what’s going on. Quick as to not burn it, Sanghyuk turns off the stove. You lean on the doorway, watching him move around the kitchen, until he finally realizes you’re back. Just a look at you and his mouth widens to show off a welcoming grin.

ZUHO

Nights spent in front of the computer screen, on Juho’s thighs, with his silhouette embracing you. He’s busy with work, but doesn’t complain about your weight. It would be weird if he did, considering he was the one to insist on your presence. Perhaps to use you as a chin stand. It digs in the side of your neck, hesitating between a massage and painful annoyance. “What? Am I bothering you?”.

Having trouble staying mad at him. Even if the argument you had was a rather big one, Juho continues doing the little things. As if everything was normal. Coffee, extra meal, even that dumb yogurt you like the most - they’re all still there, no matter what. Their presence is a needle stinging the back of your head, telling you to put the fight behind and return to the warmth of the person you’re so used to.

The times when his shy side steps back, to let another one take over. That Juho is more confident, smiling slyly, with a gaze twice as dark. There are new depths to him that beg for exploration. No matter how many times you’ve experienced it all, nothing about him can bore you. There’s a side of an obsessed explorer to your always Juho-starved mind. Even when his deep voice laughs at the excitement you’re showing, he doesn’t push you away. He seems to enjoy the attention just as much.

A never-ending string of chat conversations. Be it cute pictures of cats, rare memes, or just a voiced desire to eat junk food, you always look forward to the signs of communication. And if he won’t provide, you will. With a picture he may not want to show his friends, or words he won’t use in a love song, worried it will somehow get out. These are for him only.

Correcting the collar of his shirt, minutes before he’s supposed to leave for an evening out. It’s a normal thing to do - spend time with others, not just your loved one - but the close future still feels salty on your tongue. Juho asks you a question, and you smile in answer, nodding your head that yes, his friend is sure to like the birthday gift. He mirrors your expression, kisses goodbye, then disappears into the night. Out of sight, not out of mind.

ROWOON

The words of encouragement he uses during a dinner out. Things like “Finish this serving, I’ll ask for another.”, or “You ate too little. Have some more.” accompany each bite you take, deafening the inner voice of guilt. It will come later, when Seokwoo’s voice disappears with a sweet goodbye. And quiver in fear when he scolds you for ever being ashamed of your weight.

Waking up in the middle of the night. Your fingers curl and uncurl, their tips eventually spreading over the warm skin of his chest. Mind wide awake, you cannot just go back to sleep. Instead, you delicately draw shapes, hoping to hypnotize yourself, and somehow keep him awake. All of sudden one of his hands grabs yours and pulls it over his chest, to make you embrace him better. He’s asleep again just a second later.

Goodbyes that take much longer than they should. Even after spending an entire day in each other’s presence, neither of you want to part ways. Seokwoo’s hold is strong, pulling you so close to him, you think he may want to melt the two of you into one. Not that there’s anything wrong with the idea. Was it a possibility, you wouldn’t have thought twice. “I should probably get going.” he says, but the hold loses its strength only much later.

Nothing. You’re doing absolutely nothing, and he still looks like he’s about to melt from the sight alone. His smile is wide, dream-like, and in return you try hiding yourself, because that’s too much for your heart to take. “What? Don’t cover your face!” he’s laughing, his hands grabbing at your forearms to pull them down. When you’re defenseless he places the sweetest of kisses on the very tip of your nose.

The lack of your vitamin S. These instances are so rare, you can never get used to them. It’s like being homesick. Even if you’re sitting on a couch you paid for, home feels far away. It will come back, you’re sure of it. You will do everything to assure its return. But for now, you just sink in the feeling of loneliness, turning over the words, the moments, the possibilities.

TAEYANG

If it wasn’t for his begs, you wouldn’t have ended up dancing in the club. Which would be a shame, because Taeyang was right. Every once in a while you can go out, if just for the sake of seeing him in his element, a satisfied smile decorating such beautiful features he possesses. His hands pull you back into moving when the overwhelming adoration makes you stop for a moment.

The pain being so visible on his face. As much as Taeyang wants to keep the image of a stoic man, hearing your hurtful words makes the walls of a calm act explode into flour-like dust. He trembles in his spot, holding back the waterfall of emotions. How could you, of all people, say something so real to him? Something that could shake him to the bone? When he can’t stay anymore, Taeyang leaves in silence.

A walk through quiet streets. Some ights flicker on and off, broken, some unchangably dark, abandoned due to budget cuts. The sun has set a while back. While most people are busy with their everyday struggles, you and Taeyang are taking slow steps with fingers interlocked. Every few minutes his hip hits yours, seemingly on accident, but just a look at his sly smile is enough to let you know it’s intentional.

“How could you? I’m your boyfriend!” echoes from his contorted lips. “And a sore loser! Can’t I win every once in a while?” His sad eyes and closed mouth answer without a need for words: no, you can’t. Taeyang does a poor attempt at nonchalant shrugging, but his release of the controller means that the game has ended. Only hugs and kisses of affirmation manage to pull his lips into a smile.

The mornings when you wake up beside him. Rays of sunshine fall on his face, gently pulling him out of dreamland. You’re there to witness his first frown, delicate stir, and a turn to his other side, to escape the sun. Before he can register what’s going on around, soft mumbles leave his mouth. So quiet, you need to lean forward to hear better. That’s when he strikes - by kissing your ear. “Eww!” Taeyang just laughs.

HWIYOUNG

Laughing at the sight of a very confused Sanghyuk exiting the toilets. You were meant to wait for him, but Youngkyun couldn’t pass a chance to mess with the poor guy. “We’ll come out after he suffers long enough.” the boy whispers in your ear, his breath warm on the thin skin of a helix. Lean and strong fingers are innocently placed on your side, as if to keep you close, not in place. Perhaps it’s out of his mind, but you? You are more than comfortable there.

The way he embraces you like fine china. It’s so delicate, you’re sometimes worried he doesn’t want to indulge in any physical affection. When the thought crosses your mind, you loosen the grip on his sides. But instead of a sigh of relief, Youngkyun gives you a look of surprise. Questions of genuine worry are quick to follow. And if you have nothing to say, he will make you talk.

Pulling at his hand to follow you inside the store. Youngkyun sighs, reminding you of arrangements you made earlier, but the place looks so inviting, meetings lose their appeal. “Just 5 minutes.” he eventually relents. How does one tell you no? Inside, you’re leading him from a display to display, marveling at the products. Hurrying goes out of your heads, and when you finally leave, you’re late. But Youngkyun doesn’t seem to mind, too busy laughing at the bag of purchases hung on your arm.

The callouses on his hands. You’re massaging them, as if something as simple as smoothing down rougher patches of skin could delete them. It’s not your intention. Rather than anything, you find the feeling of them under your fingertips therapeutic. Youngkyun never comments on the habit, his hands always free when it comes to you. In private, he sometimes even adds foreahead kisses as a bonus.

The feeling of pride living rent-free in your head. Just a look at Youngkyun reminds you of the many reasons he’s so great. His ears redden as soon as he realizes you’re watching, too lost in the sight to be awakened by anything other than loud speech. “Stop!” he gently pushes you away. Maybe you do stop for a while, but the need to look returns soon after.

CHANI

The deathly grip of his hand on your elbow. Its suddenness throws you off, until the sight of his awkward smile comes on display. Leave it to Chanhee to get a bit dramatic with how embarrassed one can become. “It’s just my family.” “What if they don’t like me?” his worries seem absurd to you. “There’s not a single person in this world that dislikes you.” Your eyes meet as you detach his hand to hold it properly. “I’ve got you.”

A hug from behind, few words of affirmation and a smile to the side of your head - a mix of three things that make you unable to say no, as long as they’re contributed by Chanhee. He knows it all too well, often with evident slyness to his smiles. No apology tastes sweeter than the one flying out of his warmth breath by your ear.

The automatic motion of giving him your snacks. One for Chanhee, one for your. Another for Chanhee, another for you. He doesn’t seem to notice the hilaroius aspect of the situation, too busy with his phone. And although you do notice, the discovery only slows down your hand, not stop it. After one more, you surprise him with a soft kiss. Then, as his widened eyes center on you, the hand resumes its task. Chanhee doesn’t complain to anything. Still, his gaze stays on your features for a longer while.

The annoyance on his face making you feel so small, you can’t look at him. The argument is still vivid in your memory, words coming back to torture you more than necessary. You think you may go mad from the absurd of it all, but most of all, from the coldness Chanhee is emanating with. “Whatever.” you tell him instead of an usual goodbye. Maybe because you’re too tired by everything, maybe because you want the sound of it to hurt him.

Noticing how comfortable he is around you. There’s a stark difference between the past Chanhee and the present one. Reddening ears, nervous whispering, secrets - all of them are no longer a thing. There are no walls between your lives. Just the reality of having to deal with an extreme case of a “clown”. But Chanhee can’t know you like to call him that, because in revenge he will find you a nickname much worse.

➛ pollenat’s list of reactions

➛ pollenat’s list of shorts

[stxrrywildflower]

lost

pairing - emily prentiss x reader

summary - emily returns after doyle, you and spencer don’t take it well

warnings - cursing, mentions of suicide, talks about mental health, drug use

word count - ?

note - sections of this regarding the language may be extreme so please take that into consideration before reading

you and spencer walked into the bau together, each sporting a coffee cup in hand.

after emily’s death, the two of you found comfort in each other. you knew about reid’s abandonment issues and he was well aware of your’s and emily’s relationship. everyone on the team did. morgan did a fairly good job at hiding his emotions. but you and spencer, you two broke.

hotch had noticed the signs of you first. you had a history of depression and anxiety dating back into your teen years. after her death, you began to slip back into a depressive state. you lasted two weeks before, without argument, he placed you under temporary leave and sent you to a mental facility for you to ‘get better’.

spencer was next. after confiding in morgan about his dilaudid cravings, it was then alerted to hotch also. just like you, spencer was placed on temporary leave and set to the same facility as you.

inside, your communication with other patients was limited. you and spencer, however, got to see each other all the time, resulting in your now closeness. two months in, both of you returned to the bau. slowly, you returned back to doing field work. but, you relied on spencer and he did the same to pull you through. you felt like you were finally getting better, like you were back with a sense of normality.

that was, until the current day at the bau managed to reverse all of that.

the first thing you noticed was hotch and j.j. in the conference room. that already wasn’t a good sign. “new case?” you asked spencer who then shrugged, “probably.” rossi stepped into the conference room next, before motioning for the rest of the team to join.

you quickly dropped your bag and coffee off at your desk before following spencer up the stairs into the conference room.

“alright everyone have a seat,” hotch spoke as he crossed your arms.

“why? what’s going on?” morgan responded.

you didn’t follow hotch’s orders. a lot of trust had crumbled and fallen away after he had put you on leave with little remorse. instead, you leaned against one of the file cabinets, spencer finding a spot next to you.

“seven months ago i made a decision that affected this team,” hotch started. you instantly tensed up at his words. seven months ago, you had all lost emily. alas, he continued, “as you all know, emily had lost a lot of blood as a result of her fight with doyle. but the doctors were able to stabilize and airlift her from boston to bethesda under covert exportation. her identity was strictly need-to-know and she stayed there until she was well enough to travel. she was reassigned to paris where she had access to several identities, none of which we had access to for her security.”

those words hit you like a brick. your throat felt dry and your hands started to shake. you turned to spencer who looked like he was experiencing a similar reaction.

“she’s alive?” garcia asked. morgan’s eyes darted frantically between garcia and hotch. “but we burried her,” spencer surprisingly spoke up from beside you. his voice was extremely shaky and you weren’t sure if he could even finish his sentence.

“as i said i take full responsibility for the decision. if anyone has any issues, they should be directed towards me,” hotch tesponded.

you wanted to say something, you really did. but no words came out of your mouth. instead, morgan decided to talk. “any issues? yeah i got issues!” he shouted. just as he went to continue, you heard footsteps from down the catwalk.

just then, emily appeared, bag in hand, a sorrowful look on her face. you felt like you were going to pass out.

you turned towards j.j. who seemed to be smiling, no shocked emotions displayed. that only meant one thing. “you knew?” you spoke, moved from your position against the filing cabinet. j.j. started to speak, most likely an apology, but you cut her off.

“don’t,” you said as you pinched the bridge of your nose.

emily was now standing beside hotch and j.j. “y/n,” she spoke, taking a slight step towards you. you, instead, took one step back, itching closer to spencer, who was having a hard time taking this all in.

“you let me, you let us mourn her for seven months and you knew the entire time? you sent us away hotch!” you yelled, motioning towards spencer.

“sent them away? what do you mean?” emily asked.

instead of hotch responding, most likely giving a shitty answer, you stepped in. “he sent me and spencer away to some stupid fucking mental facility to ‘get better’. barely any contact to the outside for two months. how do you really think that helped hotch? how do you think being locked in a room for two months really did for our mental health,” you asked. hot tears slowly welling up in your eyes.

“i’m sor-” emily started to apologize.

“you’re sorry? i was so close to shooting myself up again and instead of actually getting the support from others, i get sent away. do you realize how much it sucks to be abandoned your whole life and then the one group of people that keeps you sane leaves you too? i got to talk to maybe four people at the hospital. and besides y/n, none of them were any of you. i can forgive garcia, morgan, and rossi, but j.j.? you really name me as your sons godfather and you can’t even tell me the truth half of the fucking time,” reid revealed. the room went quiet, obviously shocked at the young genius’s outburst.

“before you say another word that your sorry or that you didn’t know how much this affected us, just know that for weeks, i sat in my apartment, not sure what to do. do you know how many times i wanted to take my razor and slit my wrists, just to end it. or the advil, i always kept. everytime i took two for a headache, i always considered just taking the entire bottle. because, what did i even have to live for at that point. and then with barely any sympathy, hotch forces us to leave, not wanting to deal with our issues. we were finally getting better. we were finally able to be back on the job and continue living our lives. but now, you just saunter in here expecting forgiveness,” you seethed.

anger began to rise in you. you made fists out of your hands, no doubt causing slight bleeding from your fingernails as your knuckles turned white. upon seeing emily’s saddened facial expression, that made you even more mad. you needed to let out your anger or else you knew you probably wouldn’t be able to recover. after a few more moments of complete silence, you rolled your eyes, pressing your lips together as you walked out of the conference room, spencer right behind you.

you quickly grabbed your bag, leaving your paperwork on your desk before glancing over to the conference room. morgan and garcia were just exiting, tears falling freely down their faces. the remaining team members remained in the room, each with defeated expression.

you turned to spencer. “let’s go,” you whispered. anything above that and your voice was sure to crack. both of you decided that you needed to be alone for awhile. so, you dropped spencer off at his apartment with a small smile that you could barely muster and you drove to yours.

once entering, you tossed your bag carelessly on the table, your badge alongside it. your gun remained carefully placed on the side table.

you placed your back against the door. you held back the first sob, but after that, you couldn’t contain it. tears flowed down your face as you sobbed loudly. you felt betrayed, the trust between you and hotch was already fragile and now with j.j., you weren’t even sure who you could trust. you mainly felt angry.

the only thing you could think to do was punch your wall. your hand went though the drywall, leaving a large hole in its place. surprisingly, your hand was barely injured from the punch, just a cut across the top of it.

just as you moved towards the kitchen to grab wrap to bandage your hand, your mind was only filled with one though; emily. you loved her. you knew you were going to love her for the rest of your life. and then that had been ripped away from you.

you cried harder, tears falling onto your now bandaged hand.

you shuffled into your room, quickly changing into sweatpants and a t-shirt. you collapsed onto your bed, pulling the blankets over you and a pillow closer to your chest. it wasn’t the first time that you cried yourself to sleep.

emily knocked on your apartment door only a half an hour later. hotch had allowed everyone to go home, as the day had been a bit shocking. emily, however, grabbed her bag and drove to your apartment.

after no response, emily took out a set of keys, praying that you hadn’t change the lock. after rotating the key, a satisfying click echoed. she let out a sigh of relief before turning the handle.

your apartment was drastically different than the last time she was in it. the once darker colored walls were now painted soft tans and pastels. there were a lot more plants than there had been. more artwork and pictures scattered the walls. ‘very few are of the team,’ she noted. your voice brought her out of her thoughts.

“spencer helped me redecorate,” you spoke, leaning against the wall with your arms crossed.

emily spun around and remained frozen in place. “it looks great, i really like the hole in the wall,” she first joked. “you two closer than before?” she asked, mentally smacking herself for asking such a dumb question.

“you’d be surprised how close people come when you lose a person you both love, whether it’s romantically or family,” was all you said. “would you like something to drink?” you offered.

emily slightly nodded, “maybe a cup of tea? thank you.” you grabbed a mug, filling it up with hot water before handing her the cup with a tea packet. emily watched as you moved though the kitchen, grabbing the different stuff to make a pot of coffee.

the tension in the room was almost unbearable.

finally, you finished making your coffee and placed it on the counter, milk and sugar already added. you then opened the cabinet and reached to grab the bottle of advil. you had a killer headache and needed to take something. out of the corner of your eye, you noticed emily tense up.

“relax, i’m not going to overdose,” you spoke calmly.

your words made made emily visible flinch. the fact that you were so casual about talking about killing yourself scared her immensely. 

you moved out of the kitchen and sat on the couch, motioning for her to do the same. the two of you sat at opposite ends, each sipping your drink as silence fell over you.

“you don’t deserve this,” emily spoke, breaking the tense silence.

you sat up slightly, looking over at the woman but kept your mouth shut.

“you really don’t deserve what i did to you. none of the team does. but i need you to know, that i really has no choice. if i didn’t do what i did, doyle would have gone after all of you,” emily revealed. “wouldn’t have mattered, i honestly probably would have been dead already. probably spencer too, i mean you heard him. he almost took dilaudid again.”

“but you stopped him.”

you chuckled slightly. “not really. just got sent to a mental hospital against my will with reid to recover. so, wasn’t really my choice. it’s really fucked up that he almost relapsed over something that wasn’t even true.”

“i’m really sorry for that. if you want i will go talk to hotch about his actions,” emily offered but you shook your head. “it’s over now. only bringing it up because i have to.”

“i know i have a lot of trust to earn back from everyone. and i fully intend on heading over to everyone’s apartments to apologize to them after you. but it’s been almost eight months since i’ve been with you. all i want is a hug, as stupid as that sounds. you don’t have to but-” emily was cut off when you wrapped your arms around her.

the two do you fell back into the couch. your buried your head in the crook of her neck as her arms moved so they were around your waist. you shut your eyes to prevent the inevitable tears from leaking out. her perfume filled you senses. it was the same one she always wore. you had never realized until now how much you loved the smell of it.

she looked and acted slightly different, but she was your emily.

“i should probably get going. i really need to talk to reid,” emily spoke as she let go of you and stood up. you crossed your arms again and nodded at her. “i’m really sorry again. i know it’s going to take some time to regain your and the teams trust again but i promise, i will make it up to you.”

with that, emily grabbed her bag and made her way over to the door. you shot her one final weak smile before disappeared from your apartment and made her way down the hallway.

[shestrying2write]

Blank Pages pt 1

Pairing: Ivar x reader 

Warnings: My timeline and the shows timeline inconsistencies.

Word Count: 2,305

Author’s note: it’s kind of angsty? I love Ivar and I love suffering so here you go. I will probably write a second part, just because I don’t want this part to be too long. Please let me know what you guys think! I also didn’t edit it, so if you see any mistakes let me know.

Summary: Ivar must choose between the love of the man who abandoned him and the love of a woman he promised to never abandon.

Masterlist

Pt 2 // Pt 3

“What do you mean you’re leaving?!” A hurt Y/N shouted through tears as she stared at her best friend of years and recent lover. 

Ivar stared back, with his impatient blue eyes. “I’m going with my father Y/N” he repeated again. “Which part confused you?” His condescending tone, a mask to hide that he was truly sad to be leaving her. Y/N grabbed the first thing on her dresser, a brush, and threw it...hard. Ivar skillfully dodged it. “That almost hit me woman” he growled. 

“Yes. That was the point Ivar. Better I kill you than the saxons, or worse, your own father” She couldn’t believe her ears. After years of friendship, they finally had the courage to admit they had more than friendly feelings toward each other. Then came Ragnar and Ivar ran to him, like a dog whose long lost owner came back. 

“No one is going to kill me Y/N.” Ivar took a deep breath to calm himself then chuckled at seeing her red face. She cared. He could tell that she truly cared for him and he didn’t know why. She was better off without him, a cripple, bringing her down. He saw the way people looked at them together, he heard the whispers. “Except perhaps for you” he tried joking to ease her anger. It worked, slightly. She rolled her eyes and walked over to him, dropping to her knees in front of him, to be more at eye level as he sat on her bed. 

“I’m scared of losing you. I just found you. We just found each other” she whispered, her hand resting on his cheek. He leaned into her soft touch and smiled, his eyes closing. 

“You’re not going to lose me. I’ll come back to you...Eventually” his words brought her no comfort. She knew she couldn’t just sit around and hope that he was alive and well. So she did the one thing she promised herself she’d never do to anyone. She gave him an impossible choice, in the hopes of convincing him to stay. 

“Then you’ll lose me” she stated coldly as she removed her hand. Ivar’s eyes opened wide as he looked at her, waiting for further explanation. 

“Wh-What do you mean?” He mumbled, his hands trying to seek out hers. 

“If you go with your father, I will not wait for you Ivar. Stay with me or lose me” she couldn’t look into his blue eyes without tears threatening to run down her face. Though as hard as she tried, she couldn’t stop them. She slowly inched closer to him, her lips a centimeter from his. “Please Ivar. Choose me, choose happiness, stay with me, marry me” her voice broke on her last words as she pleaded with him. He leaned in and closed the gap between their faces, pressing his lips against hers as hard as he could. Trying to memorize every inch of her lips, the taste of her tongue in his mouth, the way she whimpered softly when he bit her lip and the way her eyes fluttered open when he pulled away, begging for more. Her eyes were filled with hope, and it broke his heart that he now had to break hers. 

“I can’t” he whispered almost inaudible, but by the look on her face, he knew she heard him. She stood up and wiped her eyes. “Please understand. I have to do this. I have to prove myself” he pleaded, but she was in no mood to hear him anymore. 

“Get out” she said through gritted teeth

“Please understand Y/N…” she didn’t give him a chance to finish. She wanted nothing more than to cry and throw things. Ivar knew he needed to do this. He needed to prove that he was a Viking and that he deserved the love of someone like her. 

“I SAID. GET. OUT!” He had never heard her so angry, and when he tried to reach out to her she yanked her arm away and walked to the other side of the room. “Please just — just go Ivar” she was hurt and he could see that. He had hurt the one person who had loved him as much as he loved her for someone who abandoned him and there was no turning back. 

Before he dragged himself out he muttered his last words to her “I really do love you. I hope you will be at the docks when I return and I truly hope you will come see me off” she didn’t respond, she didn’t even look in his direction, but he could hear her soft sobs. With that, he left. 

—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•— •—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—

He looked onto the docks, there was his mother and other people he didn’t care for. He had truly hoped and expected that Y/N would show up to say goodbye, but she wasn’t anywhere in sight. Their argument had been two days ago and he hadn’t seen her since. He gave a letter to one of his thralls to give to Y/N. He had stayed up all night thinking about what to write and what to say to make it better. But he knew nothing would change what was going to happen. It was all in the hands of the gods now. 

Ivar left and the thrall arrived at Y/N’s door. She gave her the letter and was dismissed back to Aslaug. Y/N’s eyes were red and puffy, she hadn’t stopped crying since Ivar had left. She felt destroyed. When she opened the letter there were only ten words on it. 

“Y/N,

I love you and I’m sorry. 

Forever yours,

Ivar”

—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•— •—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—

Her days felt lonely and she tried to keep them busy by visiting Queen Aslaug. She was just as torn as Y/N and together they found comfort in each other. Aslaug hadn’t always been a fan of Y/N because she always suspected that she might be using her son, and she constantly waited for the other foot to drop, but it never did. Then she felt like Y/N was stealing Ivar from his mother, but seeing her all mopey now, she realized they were the same. They both loved Ivar and wanted nothing but his return. What Aslaug didn’t know was that Y/N had already packed her belongings and was simply trying to find the courage to leave. 

She knew she told Ivar that she wouldn’t wait for him, but she wanted to. She didn’t want to leave him, she loved him, more than she had ever loved anyone else. She had turned down foreign suitors when they had asked for her hand, and denied the advances of most men if Ivar hadn’t liked them. Of course now she knew why he didn’t like most men, he was jealous. The thought that he couldn’t possibly love her as much as he claimed if he left her so easily always rattled in her mind and she hated it. Of course she understood that he had always felt like he had to prove himself a warrior, a true viking, but she wished that her seeing him that way would have been enough. 

Once Aslaug had woken up screaming and crying of Ivar’s death, Y/N knew there was nothing tying her to Kattegat. Aslaug was never wrong, her dreams, her premonitions, always being clear and true. Y/N comforted Aslaug as best as she could and one night while Aslaug was asleep, she had slipped a letter under her pillow explaining that she had to leave and that she was sorry and that she looked forward to seeing Ivar again when it was her time to go and eat with the gods. 

She had left most of her belongings in her home, not wanting to carry more than she needed. Her desk covered in crumbled pieces of parchment, all started with varying versions of ‘Dear Ivar,’ but not much else. She could never bring herself to write much after his name because she found herself crying or throwing things. The final letter she wrote had the words ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘I love you’ crossed out before they too were tossed aside. 

She loaded her cart with some dresses that Ivar had the best seamstress in Kattegat make for her, a dagger he had gifted her and enough food and water to last her a week. She let one last tear fall from her eyes as she said goodbye to her childhood home forever. 

—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•— •—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—

“A great army. At my command. Imagine it brothers” Ivar had been on one of his rants again. His brothers had, had enough. Sigurd with his mockery began pestering Ivar. And as always Ubbe made an attempt to settle their quarrels while Hvitserk just sat there eating. 

Bjorn having had enough just slammed his fist on the table, making all the brothers turn their attention to him, “we won’t succeed in avenging our father if we cannot get Earl Erik to agree to join us” with a frustrated gruff he pushed his plate far away from him. 

Ivar rolled his eyes “Brother please, with all the men and women coming to help us, we have more than enough to succeed” biting another piece of meat. 

Bjorn chuckled “You are naive brother, if you believe your words. Earl Erik has enough men and women at his disposal that he would nearly double our current army. They say his current wife is a great shieldmaiden who helped him conquer many villages. We want them as an ally, we want their loyalty. He has agreed to hear me out. We will place nice” he looked directly at Ivar and then Sigurd “We will make him feel welcomed and we will not waste his time with your pointless pissing contests. Are we clear?” 

Both brothers just gave a grunt of agreement and said nothing else. “I’ve heard she is as beautiful as she is terrifying in battle” Ubbe jumped in. 

Hvitserk nodded “They say she seduced her first husband and then murdered him for his army and now she’s slowly conquered Norway with her new husband. She’s giving king Herald a run for his money” he laughed as he continued eating. 

“A woman that powerful? I’m sure they greatly exaggerate. She’s probably not even real. I’m sure it’s all stories spread by Earl Erik’s own people.” Ivar grumbled. 

“Well whatever the case. We will pose our arguments and try to convince him to help. I expect you all on your best behaviors” as Bjorn finished his sentence a thrall rushed in slightly out of breath. 

With very little patience Ivar yelled “Spit it out already!” The poor thrall jumped and took a deep breath before speaking. 

“Earl Erik’s boats are on the horizon. He will be here before nightfall” She quickly exited as to not anger the brothers any further. 

Bjorn smiled and sent the slaves to prepare for the festivities that would be occurring as soon as Earl Erik arrived. “Let the preparations begin.” He stood up and excused himself to get ready. 

“I bet his wife won’t even show up with him” Ivar mockingly laughed. “And if she does I’m sure she is as average as they get.”

—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•— •—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—

“Earl Erik!” Bjorn held his arms out “Welcome to Kattegat. I hope your journey went well” 

Earl Erik towered slightly over Bjorn as he walked over. “Prince Bjorn. Long time, no see” They hugged and Erik turned to the rest of Bjorn’s brothers as he was introduced to them. They bowed heads to each other and everything seemed to be flowing nicely as they walked to the great hall together. 

Once they were there and everyone had a drink in hand Ivar opened his mouth. “So Earl. Where is this wife we’ve been hearing so much about?” Ubbe gave him a warning look but Ivar didn’t care “Was she too sick to travel perhaps?” Bjorn heard his tone and knew exactly what Ivar was insinuating. 

Earl Erik just chuckled and finished his drink. “She traveled with me. But said she did not want to be introduced to Ragnar’s sons right after a long trip. She told me to go ahead and she and our son would catch up later.” He knew what Ivar implied. Erik wasn’t stupid he knew exactly what Ivar meant to imply. It didn’t go past Erik that he was much older than they were and his once pretty looks were overtaken by white hairs in his red beard and scars on his cheeks from years of battle. “I’m sure you all will enjoy her company. Just not too much I hope” he teased his old friend Bjorn with an elbow to his side. Ivar just nodded and continued drinking, saying nothing else. 

After several rounds and toasts, the doors opened once again, and there stood two women, one holding a bundled up baby and behind her a woman with her face hidden by a cloak. Erik’s face broke into the biggest smile he had since arriving and the brothers took notice. “That must be your wife” Ivar half chuckled, staring at the lackluster blonde woman in raggedy clothes with spots across her nose, holding the baby.  He knew it, a woman, nothing special or grand about her. What Ivar wasn’t expecting was for Erik to walk right past her and lean down to the smaller woman in the cloak. His hands were on either side of her face as he pulled her in for a kiss, making her hood fall. He turned his attention to the crowd “Everyone. Please, meet my lovely wife—“ as her face came into view Ivar whispered her name at the same time that Earl Erik shouted it to the room “Y/N”

Tags:

@hunnybunn56​

[merakiaes]

Lovers’ Quarrel - Finn Shelby

Pairing: Finn Shelby x reader

Requested: Yes. 

Prompts: #2 from the common tropes-list, #7 from the fluff-list.

Warnings/notes: This is a combination of two requests. I got a request for the common trope a few days ago with other prompts and had to split them up. The request for #7 from the fluff-list is gone from my inbox so I hope the person who requested it sees this. This is not proofread so sorry in advance for any mistakes!

Wordcount: 2694

Summary: You’re forced to share a bed with Finn, whom you hate with a burning passion. Things happen and things end in a very unexpected way. 

Finn Shelby was without a doubt in your mind the most infuriating person you had ever known. He was immature, annoying and so incredibly full of himself that it made your blood boil just hearing his voice.

“I can do this because I’m a Shelby”, “I can do that because I’m a Peaky Blinder.”

That was about everything you ever heard come out of his mouth and it made you want to punch him in the face.

You didn’t want to be around him; you couldn’t stand him. He tried so hard to be everything he wasn’t, pretending to be tougher and more mature than he actually was and it made your entire body itch and twitch with aggravation.

And the feeling was mutual. You hated him, and he hated you. Every time you were in the presence of each other you fought, sometimes to the point where the people around you actually start fearing that you would strangle each other. So you tried to your absolute best ability to stay clear of each other.

Unfortunately, however, that was often very hard, as your family was working together with the Peaky Blinders, meaning your families spent time together. A lot. Far too much than you would have liked.

They had been working together for the past year or so now. Every weekend, your family went down to drink with the Shelbys as the Garrison, and every Sunday you had dinner together.

Those time were, although actually physically painful, bearable, as you didn’t have to sit anywhere near the youngest of the Shelby siblings and could keep yourself occupied with your own siblings.

But now, that wouldn’t be possible.

Your family and Finn’s family had all decided to go out to your family estate on the country side for this Christmas. You would obviously have to share rooms in order for everyone to fit, and you had expected your father to let you bunk with your brothers.

But no. when you had began carrying your bag into your brothers’ room, he had stopped you, and told you that you would be bunking with Finn.

Why in the world he would throw you into the same room as the person he knew you despised, you couldn’t figure out. Especially not since you were his youngest daughter and Finn was a boy, and you would be sharing a bed. But it still happened, and you were currently trying your hardest to stop yourself from yelling out loud.

“No way.” You shook your head, crossing your arms over your chest. “That’s not happening.”

“Yeah. I’m not sharing a bed with her.” Finn agreed form across the hallway, crossing his arms over his chest just like you had done, causing you to narrow your eyes at him.

Tommy raised an eyebrow at this, staring his little brother down. “And why not?”

“Because she snores.” He wasted no time in responding, glaring at his brother without as much as a glint of fear in his eyes.

An offended sound left your lips and you uncrossed your arms. “I do not snore!” You disagreed, taking a step forward and glaring at him with wild eyes.

But he wasn’t bothered in the slightest, only narrowing his eyes at you. “Yes, you do.”

You could feel the tips of your ears growing hot at his accusations. “I only snore when I’m really tired.” You defended yourself, faltering slightly but quickly regaining your composure and hardening your face.

“Well, then I guess you’re always really tired.” He shot back, and that’s when you couldn’t contain your anger any more.

“Yeah, really tired of your bullshit!” You yelled out, and launched yourself in his direction, ready to hit him.

Finn started moving towards you, as well, but before you could reach each other, Arthur hurried in between you and held you away from each other by your shoulders, struggling to do so as you tried reaching your hands around to get a hit in on each other.

Once he was sure you had both calmed down and wouldn’t try to kill each other, he quickly reached around to grab two blankets from the pile of sleeping necessities resting on the table behind him, shoving them into his little brother’s arms before grabbing both of your bags, throwing them into the bedroom you had always slept in every other time you had been there.

Once the bags had tumbled inside, he then proceeded to come behind you and shove the two of you into the bedroom, simply stating “Behave” before slamming door shut behind you, leaving you alone.

You stood frozen at the spot for a few seconds, just staring straight forward. Your breathing was heavy with anger, your ears burning hot and your heart thumping violently in your chest. More than anything, you just wanted to turn around and punch him in the face, but you knew you father would kill you if you did.

You took a deep breath and clenched your hands a few times before turning to look at him, finding that he was already staring at you with hard eyes, which only made your glare more intense.

“You’re sleeping on the floor.” You told him flatly, watching as his eyes narrowed.

“I’m not sleeping on the floor.” He answered, taking a threatening step closer to you.

He towered over you by a good three and a half inches and it did, admittedly, intimidate you a tiny bit. But you refused to show it, crossing your arms over your chest. “There’s only on bed, and the bed is mine, so you’re taking the floor like the gentleman you are.”

He looked behind you, taking a look at the bed, before turning his attention back to you and throwing an arm out in exasperation. “There’s room for two!”

You raised an eyebrow. “I thought you said you weren’t going to share a bed with me.”

He opened his mouth to answer, but stopped himself short when he realized you had caught him in his own trap, hardening his face before answering. “Fine. If I’m taking the floor then I get the thick blanket.”

You were quick to shake your head, uncrossing your arms. “No way, the thick blanket is mine.”

“Well, that’s unfortunate.” He said, throwing the thin blanket to the bed for you to use and tightening his grip on the thicker on still in his arms.. “Because I’m not planning on letting it go.”

You growled under your breath. “I’ll just have to take it from you then.“

At that, you stepped forward and grabbed a hold of the blanket and gave it a rough tug, to which he wasted no time in tugging it back.

“Let go.” You growled through clenched teeth, giving it another tug and putting your other hand on his arm in an attempt to pry the blanket our of his hands.

He twisted his hand out of your grasp and tugged once more, this time with such force that you went tumbling into his chest, sending the two of you tumbling to the floor with a loud, painful thud where you kept pulling at the blanket back and forth.

Yeah, it was safe to say that it was sometimes really hard to believe you were both twenty years old.

You were lucky to have landed on top of him, his body suppressing your fall, but he wasn’t as lucky, having taken the fall to his back and getting your entire body weight on top of him.

He groaned as you struggled to get off, the two of you being a whole mess of shoving elbows, but you didn’t let go of the blanket once.

“You’re crushing my spleen!” He yelled as you moved around, attempting to push you off and hitting your hip in the process.

“You don’t even know where your spleen is!” You yelled back, giving the blanket another tug and succeeding in getting it out of his grip. As you did so, however, your hand moved down a good way and accidentally brushed against his crotch, something you didn’t realize until he got still underneath you and a moan fell from his lips.

You stilled at the sound and widened your eyes, the blanket suddenly long forgotten as you turned to look at him. “Did you just-“

“It’s your fault!” He quickly cut you off, his hands now completely having surrendered the blanket and moved up to his head where he was pressing his face into his palms.

You couldn’t see his facial expression but judging by the way his ears and neck were turning a bright red, you knew he must have been embarrassed, and that was enough to cause you to roll off his body and collapse in laughter next to him.

Tugging the blanket out of his arms and into your own, you hugged it to your chest for support as you laughed, your cheeks and lungs starting to burn. You were so wrapped up in laughing at his embarrassment that you didn’t even notice him sitting up beside you.

So to say you were surprised when he suddenly leaned down, pushed your shoulders to the floor to get you to lay still and pressed his lips to you’re the next second, was the biggest understatement of the century.

Your laughing immediately ceased and your eyes grew wide, and out of instinct, you pushed him away roughly, exclaiming. “What are hell are you doing?!”

Both of you were out of breath, you from having laughed so hard and him out of a mixture of embarrassment and frustration.

He didn’t say anything, just staring into your shocked eyes with his angry ones, his baby blues now several shades darker.

You didn’t know what got into you, but only a few seconds after having pushed him away, you tossed the blanket to the other side of the room and reached your arms out to pull him back down by his neck, roughly pressing your lips against his like he had done to you only moments before.

And I think you could guess what happened next.

The entire experience was a clumsy, heated mess with all of the frustration and hatred you had built up for each other over the past year pouring out in one single evening.

You were lucky your room was on the bottom floor as opposed to the other bedrooms that were on the top floor, or else the other people in the house surely would have heard what you were up to and never let you hear the end of it.

The events that you would have thought was going to be a one time thing ended up repeating itself every night for the entire weekend you were there, but the second you got back to Small Heath, it was like it had never happened and you got back to ignoring each other – only ten times worse.

You didn’t bicker or fight anymore when in the same room, you only avoided each other’s gazes and didn’t say a word to each other.

Isaiah – who was both yours and Finn’s friend – knew clearly that something had happened during Christmas weekend, unlike everyone else who didn’t even notice the way you would grow quiet every time the other walked into the room.

The constant back-and-forth bickering you would usually partake in had always been amusing to watch for Isaiah and your other common friends, but this was just boring and unbearable and after an entire week of it, he’d had enough and came up with a plan that could either go to hell, or finally get you to stop avoiding the obvious and admit your true feelings to each other.

Seeing as you were now ignoring each other even more than you had before, it was really hard to get the two of you alone in the same room, and it took a really long time before he actually got the opportunity he needed.

But today he finally did, as you and Finn had been the last ones out of the Garrison, outside which Isaiah had been waiting for you to come out.

“Hello, friends!” He greeted you as you came out of the door, you first and Finn right after you. Both of you jumped at his sudden voice, not having seen him standing around the corner, but he didn’t pay any mind to your wide eyes, only coming over to you and taking you under one arm each.

“Are you free tomorrow? Say, around eight?” He continued, looking between the two of you.

Finn, having known him much longer than you had, instantly sensed that he was up to no good, answering suspiciously. “Yes?”

Isaiah grinned at that, turning to you. “What about you?”

Thinking none of his strange behavior, you only shrugged lazily, not really interested at the conversation at hand. “I think so.”

If even possible, this made his grin widen even further. “Great!” He declared, bringing his arms off of your shoulders and clapping his hands together. “Because I’m not. You two go on without me. Enjoy your date.”

With that, he walked ahead of you, walking backwards a few steps to give you both a final, evil smile, before spinning back around and heading off home, leaving the two of you in the dark, frozen with shock.

You gaped, not being able to find the right words.

“Did he just-“ Finn began, trailing off as he looked after his best friend with eyes just as wide as yours.

He had known from the start that Isaiah had had something planned, but he had not been expecting something like this. s

“I think he did.” You confirmed, finally coming back to your senses and wrapping your arms around yourself as a chilly gust of air pulled at your coat.

Finn cleared his throat, shoving his hands into his pockets and glancing at you awkwardly. “So…” He began, and you quietly waited for him to go on. “I’ll… Uh, I’ll come by and pick you up around eight tomorrow?”

“I…” You trailed off, thinking and clearing your throat like he had only moments before, nodding your head awkwardly. “I think I could live with that.”

He let out a breath of air, nodding his head. “Good. I’ll uh, I’ll see you then.”

“Yeah.” You nodded, taking a step back.

He copied your actions, taking a step back and turning his body towards the direction of his house, all while holding eye contact. “Bye.”

You held his gaze, nodding again. “Bye.”

The two of you turned away from each other, beginning to walk in the direction of your respective homes. You only made it a few meters before his voice called out from behind you again, though.

“You were great, by the way.”

You stopped in your tracks and turned back around, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion. “What?”

“When we…” He began, fumbling with his words and cheeks turning a shade darker. “You know… you were great.”

“Oh.” You finally came to realization what he was talking about, feeling the back of your neck growing hot. “Thank you. So were you.”

He smiled awkwardly, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” You nodded, and he nodded back.

Silence fell over you again, your eyes staring into each other’s, neither of you really knowing where to go from there.

You held the stare for another few seconds, before Finn finally brought his hand out of his pocket and pointed his thumb over his shoulder, taking a small step back.

“I’m going to go now.” He told you, and you instantly broke free of your trance and nodded, following his example and taking a step back.

“Yeah, me too.” You agreed, and he flashed you a smile.

“Bye.”

“Bye.” You smiled back, before you turned away from each other for the second time, and this time, he didn’t call out again.

You hugged yourself tightly as you walked home with your heart hammering in your chest, trying to make sense out of the entire situation, but coming out with nothing.

What the hell just happened?

[waitingtobeimpressed]

The Duchess (1/?)

A/N- howdy friends, I actually wrote this like a year ago but I was never really happy with it, but anyways here it is.

**Not my gif**

Warnings: a severe attitude problem?

Captain Celeste Guthrie was finding it incredibly hard to keep control of her facial expressions. At this current moment in time she was hyper aware that if she let her guard down for even a second her sour mood would become evident on her face. It would be unprofessional of her to get up and leave and childish of her to just simply state just how ‘fucking

boring’ this was. Celeste could have been doing any number of things instead of being sat in a brittle wooden chair with all these old men all gaping at her breasts. It was exhausting to pretend like she gave a crap about all of this political bullshit, but if she didn’t even try to act like she cared as much as the rest of them she would be ridiculed for it, so instead she politely smiled and nodded her head along with the other men’s words. The six other Captains sat around Eleanor’s office table were all men and they all highly doubted the oldest Guthrie sisters’ capabilities to lead any ship let alone a pirate ship.

“Miss Guthrie?” an annoyed voice pulled her from her thoughts and seemingly grounded her at an instant, her deep blue eyes flicked over the source of the sound to see a short, round burly man with a long greying beard and mustache. He was shaking his head with a wicked smile etched onto his lips. He looked like he wanted to rip the much younger woman into several pieces for even acting like she belonged there.

“Actually, I prefer Captain, if you wouldn’t mind” Celeste could feel her sisters disapproving glare from next to her. Which only incited her bad mood further. Normally, Eleanor herself would have put the old man in his place for even daring to talk to her sister like this, however, she was trying to convince him to lower his prices for her so Celeste’s feelings would just have to be put on hold.

“Just as I thought” he continued to blabber on, he truly believed that he had her figured out, that he had all women figured out, because a woman couldn’t lead, a woman couldn’t even tie her shoelaces without help from a man. All men were the same, or at least all the men in Nassau were the same. All arrogant assholes.

“Why are we even entertaining this child!” he spat with more venom that was needed to get his point across while slamming his hand upon the table like it was a gavel. Celeste raised an annoyed eyebrow in his direction before turning to look at her sister who simply mouthed the word ‘no’. Celeste just thought that he was incredibly lucky that he was sat on the other side of the room to her otherwise she would have shown him just how much of child she could be.

Celeste stood, pushing her dress down to press out the wrinkles before placing both of her hands upon the table, leaning the rest of her body weight in the direction of her certain accuser. A forced laugh escaped her lips as she shook her head, her blonde ringlets bouncing as she did so. “I feel so incredibly sorry for you Captain Pike” a confused look flashed over his features before an angry one took its place. “ it must be truly terrible to always have the smallest brain in the room, and with all of these big, offensive ideas brewing up there I’m personally surprised that you are not constantly plagued with a searing headache” Celeste smiled, she simply couldn’t help herself. Now this was a meeting that was worth going to.

“Now, I don’t want to come across as hostile because I know that you men are extremely sensitive when it comes to the size of your… Ships,” Celeste paused to locate her choice words carefully, Captain Pike looked like her wanted to throttle her, like many of the other Captains, on the other hand Captain Flint looked highly amused.

“however, The Duchess has once again brought in the most imports, most of which are ready for market” Celeste sat, slumping slightly in her chair to indicate to the others just how unjust these accusations were. “Once again, my ship and my crew have made the most money, which is probably why I’m being ‘entertained’ at this meeting,”. She shot a pointed look towards Pike who looked like he needed to take a breath to ‘calm his nerves’. ”so the real question is why are you being entertained?”

“It’s truly great that your humble about your success” Flint chuckled with a wide smile as he kicked up his feet onto the table. Celeste mocked his actions as she crossed her arms over her chest. “but the lady does have a point, Pike,” he said as he stretched his arms to rest above his head. “so shut your damn mouth”

“Now that’s no way to speak to one of our most respected colleagues” an instantly recognizable deep voice echoed throughout the room and the wind knocked out from Celeste’s chest, her arms instantly became slack.

Celeste snapped her head in her younger sisters’ direction who looked incredibly guilty. That little witch. He wasn’t supposed to be here. Eleanor promised that she wouldn’t have to see him during these meetings.

“Ah Vane, nice of you to finally join us” Eleanor piped up for the first time this meeting, Celeste’s burning glare making the younger girl a little nervous, “However you are almost an hour and a half late.” Vane closed the door behind himself and lazily dropped himself into the seat directly opposite from Celeste who was currently finding her shoes incredibly interesting. Vane however couldn’t bring himself to tear his eyes away from her body. He pulled a cigar from his pocket and used one of the shorter pillar candles that were placed upon the table to light it, blowing out smoke as he did so.

Celeste wanted nothing more than for this meeting to be over so she retreat back to the safety of her ship. She hadn’t laid eyes on the man in nearly 6 years and she certainly didn’t want to start up again now. She hoped that she could just go unnoticed for the rest of this meeting like she had done for the first hour. That wish was, however, unlikely.

“Im here now, aren’t I?” Vane wanted a rise out of the young woman, she knew this, and she would rather die than give it to him. “ and if you had mentioned that your lovely sister were here Elenor, I would have quickened my pace.” He said very amused with himself while balancing the cigar between his lips. Celeste rolled her eyes, huffing to herself back into the corner of the room. She caught a glimpse of the traveling people outside on the street below and she envied all of them. They didn’t have to be in this sweltering box of a room with possibly the people she hated the most on the planet’s, “What were you fine gentleman, oh and I mustn’t forget, ladies, discussing?”.

One of the other captains stood, Captain Kane who was a ugly stick of a man, pointed at Celeste accusingly, which caused her to tear her eyes up towards him, scowling at him. “Captain Guthrie was just informing us that her and her crew, which might I had is almost entirely made up of women, have managed to make the most coin this past month. Which I highly doubt to be the case” He spat as he downed the rest of the ale that was left in bottle. Celeste scoffed loudly which didn’t by any means go unnoticed by the rest of the men. Suddenly felt a sharp elbow press into her side. To her side she could see her younger sister glaring, totally unamused.

“Ow! What the fuck was that for I’m not the one being a bigot” Celeste snarled at her younger sibling who was cautiously eyeing the other people in the room who were all now bickering amongst themselves. All except Flint and Vane. Flint was looking down towards his hands, looking at a small folded parchment paper in between his calloused fingertips. His tired face looked bored much like Celeste’s. Which is probably why they got along so well.

Vane, however looked entirely all too pleased with himself, like he had everyone where he wanted them. Celeste snapped her vision and locked eyes with the man, instantly regretting the choice when he smirked at her, to be perfectly honest she knew she would eventually run into her childhood friend again one day, it was just a matter of time. And unfortunately, her luck had run out. It would’ve been perfectly fine with her to never see the person who had ruined her life ever again. Vane, being as stubborn as he was believed that he had given the older Guthrie girl enough time to ‘get over it’ and now she was just being bitter.

“Would you at least try and act civil” Eleanor whispered as she leaned into Celeste’s side. Celeste ripped her gaze away from Vane and back to the window.

“Me being ‘Civil’ does not mean bowing down to every man in sight because it suits your needs.”

“This is exactly why father left me to run this business, you can’t see past your pride and into the future!”

“ No, father left you the business because you are his little pet. And might I had that you were also the only one here. I believe in creating my own worth not riding on daddy’s wealth and pretending that its my own.” Celeste angrily whispered back.

An evil grin formed on Vanes face, he could quite clearly see the rift between the two sisters and wondered how much more strain their relationship could handle before it cracked completely, “Convenient , because if that was true then that would mean that Captain Guthrie here probably had the help from her little sister, you know giving her the best tips for the most valuable ships, the biggest plunders. And that really wouldn’t be fair at all. Would it?” He stated matter of factly, tilting his head to see if his efforts had managed to anger Celeste. Which they definitely had.

“How fucking dare you!” Celeste sat bold upright in her chair, purposely turning her attention to Vane, “Since when was my crew and my ship being brought under investigation, maybe if you weren’t all drunks, or out whoring all the live long day, or you actually knew how to captain a goddamned ship, you would be spending your coin rather than watching me roll around in mine.” Celeste forcefully pushed the chair from underneath herself, not bothering to correct her dress this time. “now if you’ll excuse me, I have far better things to do with my time, like watching paint dry.” she hatefully spat before walking the short distance to the door and ultimately deciding that slamming it was her best course of action.

Pike laughed so weakly that it could have been mistaken for nasty chest infection, “see?” he pointed to the still rattling door, “this is why women can’t be in charge of anything, they are far too emotional” he said stroking the gruff on his chin.

Vane took everyone by surprise when he also abruptly stood, stubbing the end of his cigar out directly onto the table, avoiding the ash tray, “I suggest you shut the fuck up” his low gruff voice bellowed out before he too made his way to the door, leaving everyone else with a look of confusion on their faces. Eleanor knew that the two had a history, but she assumed that they would either pretend it never happened or Celeste would be the bigger person and not let his often-relentless teasing get the better of her, looks like she was wrong.

Celeste practically ran down the steps of the tavern wanting nothing more then to seek the safety of her nice cool cabin on her ship, surrounded by people who she can somewhat tolerate. At least her cabin had a bolt on the door, as Celeste marched through the maze of people and reached the street, she felt eyes boring into her. She had a pretty good idea of who it was which was why she was gradually picking up her pace. Celeste couldn’t deal this this right now, or ever to be perfectly honest, so she kept her pace until the beach came into sight. The heat at this point was almost unbearable and the layered long black dress was not helping the situation. She gathered the ends of her dress, exposing her bare legs, before jumping down off of the dock and onto the white hot sand.

Or the beach is where you can really see the split of people in Nassau as only Pirates dared show their faces down there, which made Celeste, who was a woman, a bit of a rarity. The only thing she hated more that Charles Vane was this beach, with all of its vagrants and criminals, however it was the only way back to her ship, so it was a necessary evil. Weaving in and out of the makeshift tents she eventually broke their density and to made it out to hear the gentle lapping of the sea against the sand.

Celeste could feel a mass amount of eyes piercing her figure as she shielded her own with her hand from the blazing sun. she ignored them like she always did and tried to locate her second in command Rosabelle who should have been waiting with their rowboat along with two of her most trusted men, Felix and Jack. No luck however, and she soon realized that they was barely anyone this far down the beach, not a single person was rowing out to the larger ships in port.

What the fuck is going on?

Slowly, Celeste turned her body to look to the left of her to inspect the rest of the beach, but she really wished she hadn’t. Stood there was Vane, both of his hands perched upon his hips has he squinted his ice blue eyes towards her, a smirk pressed against his lips. “Hello, Love. Its been a while.” His gruff voice spoke as he took a view steps closer, Celeste did not move, not under any circumstances. She was not going to be bullied by him a she certainly wasn’t going to give in to him. She would rather die.

She glared at him, “Not nearly long enough” she spat as she pushed past his broad shoulder as bolted past him. He wasn’t about to let her leave him standing on this beach, again, so he sharply turned and grasped onto her wrist. She jumped out of instinct and mentally scolded herself for doing so. She tried ripping her arm from her grasp but when she kept failing she began to walk again and to her surprise he didn’t try to stop her, instead he followed her like a child until they were back at the top of the beach.

“What the fuck do you want Vane, let me fucking go” Celeste shouted as she spun around to face him. Pushing him against a wall on one of the unsuspecting houses that lined the beach. Celeste had pushed him with just enough force for him to to let go of her wrist. A smile broke through on to his face, not a smirk but a genuine smile. This caused Celeste to immediately let go of his chest and retreat back a few steps before walking away again.

“You really must let your petty anger go love, its not attractive” vane said, hot on Celestes heals as she darted in and out of the various merchants. Celeste was not really sure what he was planning to gain from making her angry and though she hated to admit it was almost working.

“Its not attractive?, oh heaven forbid, will the gods ever forgive me?” she seethed as she quickened her pace anxious to escape Vane. This is why she didn’t want to see him again, he was being insufferable and didn’t show any signs of letting up soon.

Vane chuckled as he darted in front of her,quite effectively stopping her in the middle of the street., “neither is sarcasm” Celeste was finding it very difficult to not punch the man straight in the face, but she knew that would do little to nothing to change if persistency.

“I don’t give a fuck what you think of me Vane” Finally and totally stopping to move around him because it was basically pointless. Obviously her old find had something on his mind and he wasn’t about to let Celeste skip out of town until she had heard it.

Vane clicked his tongue and tilted his head to the side ever so slightly,“I highly doubt that” he said.

Unbeknownst to the squabbling pair below, Jack Rackam and Anne Bonny we’re watching in amusement from the balcony of an ale house directly opposite from them.

Jack let out a laugh as he leaned on the weathered wood of the railing as he cradled a half filled bottle in his hand. “ Oh Christ, is that Celeste Guthrie with Captain?” He questioned as he lightly lurched forward to get a better look. “ She does not look happy to say the least.”

“ She never looks happy, part of her’ charm” Anne said as she settled next to him, staring at the pair who had finally stopped.

Jack turned to Anne with a look of realisation on his drunken face. “ That’s right, you were a member of her crew a few years back if I’m not mistaken”, Anne rolled her eyes. “ How was that experience my love? Is it true that their are only down on their luck women to man the ship?” He stopped for a second before turning to gage his partners current mood before deeming that it was safe enough to carry on. “That hardly seems practical.”

“Hey Captain, ive been looking everywhere for you” Celeste whipped her head to see the extremely concerned look on Rosabelles pale face.

“oh thank god, Rosabelle, what is it?”

“you should probably just come and see this”

Various things were running through Celestes mind as she and her second in command lead her through the bustling streets of Nassau. However she was just happy to be rid of Vane. To be perfectly honest she hadn’t expected him to hound her like he had done.

Rosabelle led Celeste right back to the tavern, much to her dismay. Celeste could her sister pacing anxiously.

“What do you want now?” Celeste called out but was instantly taken aback when see saw tears rolling down her cheeks.

Elenor was wringing her hand in front of her “ it’s Aurora, she’s missing Celeste”

[the-angriestpineapple]

fanatic // bakugou x fem reader

Bakugou Katsuki, pro Hero Ground Zero, meets one of his biggest fans and gets roped into walking her home. He finds out just how big a fan she is. NOTES: So this was my first xreader fic. I wrote it basically for one of my partners @spacebunnywrites​ before he was one of my partners. It’s a rough dom Bakugou but there’s some aftercare I promise. Tags: all the holes, rough sex, toys, some embarrassment.  x male here x nonbi coming soon  -----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You’re on your way home from a coffee date with friends when you hear the first explosion. It’s coming from somewhere vaguely to your left, eyes immediately shifting in that direction in time to see some civilians fleeing onto your current street from an alley. Your heart stops in your chest, but not from fear. It can’t be… you think. He’s never in this district. But you need to check, and your legs are moving toward the gap in the buildings before you’re really thinking about it. Soon you’re running through the narrow passage, pulse quickening as the sound of the blasts grow closer. You’re almost there, you just need to see -

You skid to a stop at the alley mouth, eyes widening as a heated explosion rockets past you followed by a maniacally grinning blonde.

“Die!!”

Oh my god it’s him! Bakugou Katsuki, pro Hero Ground Zero, in the flesh. Your heart stops again as you watch him sail through the air, so elegant in movement despite his abrasive quirk and even more abrasive personality. Most of your friends fantasized about Midoriya Izuku – Deku – the shy green haired number one hero or Kirishima Eijirou – Red Riot – the sturdy number three hero and Ground Zero’s battle partner. But you? Your heart beats for the wild blonde with the crazy smile who constantly pushes the limits.

The battle was moving down the street. You had to get closer. Where all of the sane people were running away from the dueling villains and heroes you were running closer. This was the first time you had ever seen Ground Zero in person and would likely be the last – he was never in your district and you honestly didn’t know why he was now. That didn’t matter though, he was here and you’d watch him fight or die trying.

You at least had some sense of self-preservation, ducking behind sturdy objects so that you wouldn’t get hit with some flying shrapnel. You watch in awe as your favorite pro Hero uses his quirk to shoot through the air and slam into one of the villains, giving an appreciative sigh. Fuck, he is so hot. You’re so focused on watching the explosion hero in action that you don’t notice there is an additional fight right behind you, that Red Riot is sparring with a huge muscular villain. The red haired hero slams the guy into the wall, but your ears are ringing from being so close to Ground Zero’s detonations already that you don’t hear it. Then Ground Zero looks at you. Your eyes lock. Your heart stops. His mouth is moving, making words, and the look on his face goes from sheer confidence to panic.

The world around you starts moving again and you hear ‘hey, LOOK OUT!’ before something slams into your head and you fall to the ground, the world going dark.

“Is she okay?”

“Fuck if I know, shitty hair, but at least the bleeding stopped.”

You blink as you come to, surroundings hazy and out of focus. Your world is a swirl of greys with splashes of red, black, orange, and yellow. Part of you wonders if it’s sunrise before your vision clears and you’re looking up into the concerned face of Red Riot and the scowling face of Ground Zero.

Oh fuck.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt? A medic team will be here shortly and we didn’t want to move you.” The sturdy hero has concern pouring out of his tone, his eyes flicking your face for any sign of pain.

“Are you fucking stupid?” Ground Zero hisses out, his eyes narrowing further than they already were.

“Bakubro, don’t be like that! She’s a civilian, she probably got trapped! She WAS right in between our fights after all!” Red Riot frowns at the blonde who is still glaring daggers at you. “You gotta work on your image man, your publicist is gonna straight up kill you one day.”

“Fuck off, Kiri.” Your eyes are focused on Ground Zero, frowning at the anger that is radiating off of him. You knew he was like this but it’s different, feeling it directed at you instead of at villains or press. Both heroes look up as an ambulance squeals up, followed by police cars to apprehend the villains. Red Riot immediately pops up and waves an arm.

“Hey, she’s over here!” Ground Zero is still staring at you as Kirishima gets the attention of the paramedics. Red Riot returns quickly, flanked by two more people. “Hey, there are healers here to take care of you.”

One of the people holds out her hands, scanning over your horizontal body. “There appears to be no major damage, just a shallow gash to the back of the skull. It’s superficial, Nightingale can heal it without the need for stitches.” She steps back and her partner steps up next, placing a hand to the top of your head. You feel like warm water is rushing over your skull and the dull ache of pain recedes. Red Riot gives you a relieved smile.

“She’s all set.” The medic, Nightingale, steps back and goes with her partner back to the ambulance. You sit up, automatically steadied by Riot’s large hands.

“Careful, uh...”

“(Y/N).” Your voice sounds a little raspier than usual and you wince.

“(Y/N). It’s nice to meet you! I’m Kirishima, and this is Bakugou. Can we escort you home to make sure you make it okay?” Ground Zero’s eye daggers are now aimed at Red Riot and you hide a smile behind your hand.

“That would be great, actually.” You hope that you look calm on the outside because your heart is hammering WILDLY in your chest. Ground Zero walking you back to your apartment. Your mind races with all the ways that could end, except now he’s back to glaring daggers at you.

“Red Riot!” All three of you look up as a police officer comes over. “We need a report from you.” His eyes flick to Ground Zero, still crouched near your side, and a flash of fear shoots through them. “Ground Zero we don’t need both of you so you’re free to go.”

Ground Zero rolls his eyes and stands, the movement as graceful as a dancer. “Fine, I have shit to do anyway.” “Yeah, like walking this one home.” Red Riot stared at his friend, Ground Zero glaring back, before the blonde hero tossed his head back with a sigh.

“Fucking FINE. Whatever. Let’s go.” He yanks you up, ignoring Red Riot’s protests of being careful with you. You let out a squeal of protest on your own, attempting to pull your arm back out of his gloved hand. He’s strong though, so much stronger than you ever imagined.

“Wait, Ground Zero, Ground Zero STOP!” You yank hard on your arm, stumbling back when he lets you go and whips around to face you.

“What?!”

You huff, scowling back at him. “You’re going the wrong way.”

His eyes narrow. “Well you didn’t tell me where you fucking live.”

“I didn’t get a chance to! You just dragged me off like some kind of fucking animal!”

“The fuck did you just say?” Ground Zero closes the distance between you two, his crimson eyes glaring into your (e/c) ones.

“I said… you dragged me off like some kind of animal.” He may be the object of all of your carnal lusts but you were not about to be rag-dolled through the city. At least, not in this manner. You don’t flinch as he glares at you, feeling a thrill of victory as he emits a growl.

“Fucking… fine. Come on then. Which way.” His voice is low, and you can hear the annoyance laced through it. You grin and head off in a different direction, looking behind you at the angry blonde planted in the sidewalk.

“Well come on, Red Riot will be pissed if you leave me alone.” You smirk as his scowl deepens. Since he more or less promised your safety to his partner that left you free to push his buttons. You weren’t very happy about being yanked like that but fuck you loved the aggression that the blonde exuded. Every scowl and squint was sending chills down your spine and you wanted to see if you could get him yelling at you before you got back to your apartment. Fuck, that would give you something to get off to for months.

“Fine.” You hear the stomping of boots following you and you can’t help the smirk pulling at your lips. This was fun. Your heart was still pounding in your chest being so close to him, talking to him, teasing him, but you liked to think that you were holding your own.

You annoyed him with chatter and banter for the whole ten minute walk to your small apartment, easily swapping between teasing him (there’s a hole in your uniform Ground Zero, are you getting slow?) and yammering about anything and everything happening around you. Ground Zero might think it was nerves, and he wouldn’t be entirely wrong. Your nerves were alive like sparklers, bright and heated, but it was mostly the thrill of watching the storm cloud that darkened your favorite hero’s face as you walk.

You’re twirling as you go down the sidewalk, generally making a nuisance of yourself just to annoy Ground Zero further, when suddenly you’re overcome with a dizzy spell. You stop twirling and put a hand to your head, the world spinning around you as you start to fall. You hear loud boot stomps and then strong arms are wrapping around you, catching you before you hit the ground.

“Fuck, do you have no sense of self-preservation? Why would you do shit like that after you just had a head injury?” Ground Zero has you fixed with that same angry scowl and you smiled up at him. You felt almost drunk, and you reach out and ‘boop’ the hero’s nose. He snarls. “Which fucking apartment building is yours, you shitty fuck.” Your arm flops toward your building and he grumbles as he takes off to it, carrying you bridal-style in his arms.

Your head is lolling back and he’s cursing under his breath. “Fuck. Which apartment? Where are your keys?” Your hand slips into your pocket and vaguely fishes out your keys, promptly dropping them on the ground. Ground Zero curses again and crouches easily to pick them up. Your fuzzy brain has it together enough to be impressed that he’s able to squat and snatch your keys from the pavement like you weigh nothing. So strong. Swoon.

Ground Zero carries you easily up the stairs to the third floor. Luckily your apartment number is on a tag on your key so he easily finds it. You aren’t really paying attention as he unlocks your door and swings it open, stepping into your home. You feel him pause, his eyes sweeping the area. You live alone and your home is small, but it’s cozy and you love it. There’s a mass of pillows by the window in the main room and he decides that is the best place to lay you. You squirm on the pillows once you’re there, trying to make yourself comfortable, and he watches you with a scowl. He knows for a damn fact that if he leaves you before you’re coherent that Kirishima will have his hide, so he’s trapped here until you wake up. Great.

He might as well try to find your bathroom and some medication, you’re bound to have a headache when you wake up. There’s only one door off the space you’re both currently in so without hesitation he crosses to it and moves to open it. You open one eye in time to see Ground Zero’s hand wrap around the knob to your bedroom and you squeak out a weak protest, but the door opens. Ground Zero stands in the doorway, frozen.

“...What the fuck is this.”

Shit. Now you were in for it. You try to pull yourself up, fighting the dizziness in an attempt to defuse the situation. You knew exactly what he was looking at. Your bedroom was absolutely covered in Ground Zero merch, both official and unofficial. You rise and shakily make your way to him. “Ground Zero, ah, don’t…”

He whirls on you, his eyes narrow. “You weren’t trapped between our fights. You came specifically to watch me.” It’s not a question and your cheeks color as you nod. He inhales and turns from you, stepping into your bedroom and looking around at the amount of stuff. Posters, figurines, plush pillows that look like his grenade gauntlets. His eyes sweep your bed and pause at the elongated shape hidden under the blankets. Without asking for permission he rips back the black and orange comforter and you gasp as he reveals a body pillow of himself.

“Are you fucking kidding me, (Y/N)?” Luckily it’s on the tame side and not the lewd side. Then Ground Zero flips the pillow over. He looks at you with raised eyebrows. Your face colors and you turn your face from him, so you miss the cocky smirk that graces his lips for a split second.

“If you have this so brazenly in your bed, what the fuck else are you hiding in here?” You eke out another protest as he prowls around to the other side of your bed, zeroing in on a pair of doors. He opens the first, but it’s your small bathroom. The blonde hero shoots you a look and closes it, then grins as he opens the other one. “People always hide weird shit in their closets…” He rips the door open and instead of a quick look like he did in the bathroom he’s pulling your hanging clothes to the side, checking the floor, sweeping his hands on the shelf. He finds the thing you’re dreading quickly – a small box shoved in the corner of your highest shelf.  “Hmm. Looks suspicious.” He pops it open with a smirk that quickly vanishes, and you want to sink into the floor and die. You know exactly what’s in the box, and there’s a reason it’s hidden where it is.

Ground Zero holds up the bondage harness as you watch, mortified, his eyes sweeping the black and orange straps. "Is this... is this official merch? I'm going to kill my entire marketing team."

"No. I, um..." You swallow, averting your eyes as your cheeks flush. "I made it."

Ground Zero stares at you for a second, then a grin slowly curls up the corner of his mouth. "Yeah? You made it?"

You nod. "There's, um. There's matching arm binders that look like your gauntlets. And leg binders that look like your boots." You risk raising your eyes to look at him and you feel the breath knocked out of you at the hungry, feral look in his eyes.

"Put it on then, if you're so desperate for my cock. Fucking earn it." His grin widens as he throws the harness at you.

You catch it, acting more out of reflex than anything. “What?!”

He casually fishes out the arm and leg restraints, looking them over the way he looked at the harness. “You fucking heard me. If you want it, you have to work for it.” Crimson eyes flick to you. “Especially after the way you fucking teased me the whole walk here.”

Teased him? I mean yeah, you were a little sassy, but… your eyes widen in understanding. He likes the sass. That made you look at all his glares and glances in a new light, and… Your eyes flick to the heat in them now. Fuck were you in for it, and fuck were you all about it.

“I’m not going to say it again. Put. It. On.”

His voice is like steel and you drop the harness on your bed, hands going to your shirt. Fuck, was this really happening? Were you really going to do this? You hesitate as you toy with the hem of your shirt and Ground Zero uncrosses his arms, cupping his palms, and lets off a few warning sparks. Your heart leaps into your throat and you yank the shirt over your head, throwing it nearly across your room before yanking off your pants and kicking them after the shirt. You look at Ground Zero as you stand in your underwear, and he motions to the small garments. Your face heats up as you slowly slide those off too. At his raised brow you pick up the harness, carefully stepping into it.

“I uh, I can’t put this on by myself. It’s why I’ve never worn it before.” Your face flushes, the harness straps hanging from your frame. Ground Zero shifts his weight, moving like a cat stalking prey. He slowly walks around you, reaching out for the straps, and pulling them tightly into place.

“So I’m the only one to see you like this, hah?” His voice is low and rumbling, hot like raked coals. You shudder and nod. He pulls the strap he’s tying tighter and leans into your ear. “Good. It had better fucking stay that way.” The words spike directly to your core and you groan, immediately moving to slap a hand over your mouth. He just chuckles darkly and finishes tightening the straps, and you look down on yourself. The harness is very nice, if you do say so yourself. You can’t help but feel a little proud of your handiwork.

Then you notice Ground Zero holding the arm and leg binders and grinning.

You immediately start to shake your head but he just grins wider. “Ah ah, you made them, you must want to wear them.” You’re only semi-surprised at the skill and nimbleness that he exudes to get you locked into these binders, and you wonder if this is something he does regularly. Your arms are twisted behind your back and locked into place, and Ground Zero guides you down to the floor so he can use the leg binders to keep you in a kneeling position. It’s a good thing he has those huge knee pads on his hero outfit – they provide an excellent cushion from your hardwood floor. You’re glad you included them.

“There. And now that you’re all nice and tied up…” He walks to the front of you as he removes his gloves and reaches down, a calloused thumb teasing at your lower lip. You immediately open your mouth and he gives an approving rumble deep in his throat, using the pad of his thumb to stroke your eager tongue. You roll your eyes back in your head at the flavor – he tastes like rich caramel. The scent rises off of him now that his hands are so close to your face. You’re vaguely aware that it has something to do with his quirk, and that the nitroglycerin he sweats can be toxic, but you’re way too into him being in your mouth to care about that detail. He grasps your chin with his fingertips, holding your jaw in place from the inside. You give a small whine, closing your mouth to suck on his thumb.

“Greedy little slut, aren’t you?” He pulls the thumb out and wipes your saliva on your cheek. “You know, that body pillow you got there? It’s fucking wrong.” He smirks a little, hooking the thumb that was in your mouth through a belt loop. “I bet you want to see the real thing, don’t you? You’re dying for it. I can see it in your eyes.” You whimper and nod, your eyes immediately going to the crotch of his pants. “Well too bad. I’m not done looking through your shit.” You let out a much louder whine as he turns away from you.

“Let’s see now. I’ve already checked the closet, how about this drawer?” He moves to your nightstand and yanks open a drawer, but all that’s in it are a few odds and ends. He gives you a scowl and slams it closed before pulling open the second one. That one yields much more fruitful results, and you feel like your face can’t get any hotter as Ground Zero lifts out a ball gag colored like a grenade and a blindfold in the shape of his mask. He gives you a very direct look before carefully laying the items on your bed, then dives back in. Next he comes out with a thin paddle made of wood with a slab of rubber on it, the rubber looking like a boot imprint. “What the fuck is this? It this…” He squints at the tread, then lifts his own boot and looks at it. “Is this my fucking boot print? How the fuck did you even get this?”

“Someone… after a fight in your district, someone made a casting of your boot print in the dirt. I uh, I bought it and cast the rubber to make a spanking paddle… with your boot tread on it.” You swallow a little. “I’m glad to know it’s authentic.” You give a tiny, nervous chuckle.

He stares at you for a second and then drops the paddle on the bed. “You filthy fucking bitch. You just want me to walk all over you.” But there’s definitely a vein of arousal in his voice, and when he turns you can see that the crotch of his pants are tighter than they were earlier. He shifts through the rest of the drawer, casually putting a bottle of lube on top of the night stand.

Without a word he gets on his knees and looks under your bed, pulling out another box. You’re so far beyond embarrassed at this point. The delicate lace of arousal in his words, the strain against his pants, you’re going to get fucked stupid by the hero you idolize. You wish desperately that your leg binders didn’t keep your thighs spread, robbing you of any friction you might have been able to produce for yourself. Your breath intakes sharply as Ground Zero returns up from the floor, holding a sizeable black and orange dildo. “Did you fuckin’ make this too?” He’s catching on that all of your sex toys are in his trademark black and orange.

You shake your head. “Commission,” you squeak out.

“Ah, you keep my dildo right under your bed, hah? Has to be in easy reach so you can stuff yourself as soon as you need to feel my cock in you?”

Your breath intakes harshly at the words. “Yes.”

He stares at you with hard eyes for a second. “…Fuck.” He stands, eyes drilling into you as he pulls off his boots. Next go his gauntlets, clattering to the floor. He rips off his top, and despite the fact that you’ve seen his naked chest countless times in either battle damaged costume or professional photo shoots you’re not prepared for the real thing standing in front of you. You make a hiccup-y gasp, and his grin goes feral.

“Be a good girl and don’t move.” He closes the distance between you and easily scoops you into his arms, placing you on the bed with your back facing him. He glances at the hardwood floor where you were originally sitting. “Tch. Haven’t even fucking touched you and you’re already making a fucking mess.” He gestures at the floor where a small pool of liquid betrays how turned on you already are. You feel a slight sliver of shame but it’s heavily outweighed by the sheer force of your arousal.

You watch as Ground Zero, now stripped of everything but pants and socks, moves behind you again. Hands reach out and caress your sides, softer than you thought the blonde was capable of. You moan, trying to arch your back in the tight bindings. You hear a chuckle behind you and then clothed hips are grinding into your ass, the feather soft finger tips now grabbing your waist hard enough to leave bruises. You cry out, pushing your ass back into the hips, and are rewarded with a soft groan as the cleft of your ass encompasses the hard dick in Ground Zero’s pants. Your eyes widen – he wasn’t kidding, your body pillow did him no justice.

“The fuck do you think you’re doing? I didn’t say you could have that yet.” He smacks the round globe of your ass with his hand, then releases you. You pant in need, trying to push your hips back again, desperately trying to feel his length against your body again. He makes his ‘tch’ noise and you bite your lip. You can feel him move behind you, then his arm comes in to view and he’s grabbing the boot paddle. Your breath hitches in your throat as the wooden length slowly drags backwards across your messy bed. He’s going this slowly on purpose, you know it. He wants you to anticipate what’s coming.

You freeze as you feel the ridged rubbed slide across your ass. “You ever use this before?” Ground Zero is practically purring behind you.

“N-no.” Your breath leaves you in another shaky hiccup.

“Why the fuck not?” The boot tread continues to rub across your flesh as Ground Zero’s voice gets a little angry.

“No one was good enough b-but you.” The tread stops and you hear a breathy ‘fuck’ behind you before the blonde hero is pulling his arm back and snapping it forward again. The rubber tread of the boot slams into your cheek and you cry out. It didn’t hurt as badly as you expected – maybe it was the thickness of the boot. Either way it was definitely the perfect opening.

“T-that all you got, Ground Zero?” Your breath is coming out harsh but you make damn sure that he can hear the antagonistic tone in your voice.

You hear a growl behind you and the boot flies down again, this time you can feel the bite of the tread marks in your ass. You hope it is going to leave an imprint. “Hah, I t-thought you were strong, Ground Zero.”

You tense as you hear an aggressive snarl and feel a quick movement behind you. There is the sound of glass shattering, and you’re able to glance to your left and see the broken remains of your table lamp on the floor next to the paddle. You’re annoyed until you hear his quirk spark to life behind you, and your heart stops again.

“You’re such a fuckin’ brat, hah? Just gotta be fucking mouthy? Well if you like my quirk so much, let’s see how you can handle it.” The sparking sound intensifies, and you’re barely able to hold your breath before Ground Zero’s hand slaps against your cheek. Oh, oh. This is what you want, yes. The sting is enough to bring tears to your eyes and it radiates across your flesh like fire. You can’t hold back your moan, and you lean forward more to present your ass better. He gives you a matching slap on the other side.

“Not so fucking mouthy now, are you?” Twin slaps to both sides again. He keeps going, hands still ignited, more and more until you’re sobbing and he can see the outline of his handprint reddening your ass. “Fucking perfect.” He grins and places one more playful slap, your hips bucking in response.

Ground Zero moves to the front, grabbing your jaw in his hands roughly. “Open your mouth.” You do so without hesitation and he grabs the ball gag with his free hand. His crimson eyes look into your mouth for a few beats, and you take the chance to admire how handsome his face is. He is still wearing his mask, and there’s soft grey streaks from his battle on his neck and cheek. Then he leans forward a little and you wonder for a second if he is going to kiss you, but before you can close your mouth he spits into it and stuffs the ball gag in. “Good girl,” he purrs, tying the gag around your head. He smirks as he moves behind you again and you’re shivering, waiting to see what he’s going to do next.

The ball gag prevents your loud moan as your ass cheeks are separated and his tongue licks a long strip from your aching pussy to your asshole. He doesn’t speak, he just starts to circle his tongue around the rim of your ass, inching the fingers of his right hand closer while keeping your cheeks spread. You fall forward as he hikes your hips up, just able to turn your head to prevent your face from pressing directly into the mattress. Your eyes are rolling in the back of your head as he fucks his tongue in and out of your hole, growling softly at the whimpers you’re making that are muffled by the gag shoved in your mouth. He stops suddenly, mouth and hands disappearing from your skin, and you let out a high pitched whine at the loss of contact.

Ground Zero laughs and reaches over to the bottle of lube he’d previously placed on your night stand. He positions himself behind you once more, popping open the cap of lube and pulling one of your cheeks to the side. He squirts the lube directly onto your hole, grinning as you shudder at how cold it is. The hand not holding your cheek circles your hole, teasing, not dipping in. It’s not until you push your hips back that he slips his finger into your hole, both of you groaning. He slowly works you open, watches your hole swallow his digit eagerly, his erection straining against the pants of his hero costume. You rock your hips back into him, your eagerness clear on your face as you pant around the ball gag. You choke out another muffled moan as he adds a second finger, hips rocking back harder. You need more, you need him to fill you. He lets a third finger slip it, scissoring all three to stretch the tight ring of muscle.

“Mm, yeah. Gotta stretch you open so you can take my cock, right?” You give a high pitched groan, unable to control yourself as the thought of taking his cock sends you over the edge. You ride through your orgasm on his fingers, eyes squeezed closed, and he stops moving them. “Did you already cum just from the thought of it? Damn, you really are desperate for my cock, aren’t you.” You can hear the ego in his voice and he removes his fingers. This is it. You’re going to get stuffed full of your favorite hero’s dick. You’re gonna get to cum on Ground Zero’s dick.

You feel the blunt head prodding at your entrance, but it feels strangely cold. You open your eyes and Ground Zero’s wearing a cocky grin, pants still zipped up, with the head of your dildo breaching you. You pout, or at least you pout as best as you can with your gag in your mouth, and the hero laughs. His grin is almost feral as he twists his wrist, watching your ass swallow the black and orange toy. Your pout doesn’t last long because the feeling of being stretched has you groaning again, pushing back against it, trying to take it further. He stops once the toy is bottomed out inside you.

You squirm against it, groaning as it rubs against your walls, watching the explosion hero as he slowly walks back around to the other side of your bed. He reaches down and unbuckles the gag, pulling it from your head. He pulls you up, positioning you so that you’re sitting on the dildo but pushes on your shoulders so that your head bows back down. Not quite all the way to the bed, but definitely level with his dick. “Stay,” he murmurs, and then reaches for the buckle of his pants. You hover there, eyes locked on the movements of his hands, your mouth already open and salivating. He moves slow, watching your face with an intense hunger. He pulls the pants off, sliding them down his muscular thighs, and kicking them off. His boxer briefs are straining to hold his erection and there is a damp spot where the head is, betraying how much your reactions are affecting him.

He palms his own cock through his underwear, smirking down at you. “Do you think you’ve earned this?” His voice is low, dark. Your nose is filled with the scent of caramel again and you nod. “Are you sure? I’m not.” His fingers slowly wrap around his shaft, pressing the outline out harder through his underwear. “Beg for it.”

“Please, Ground Zero, I need it, I need you, please just fuck me,” you immediately plead. Your body is squirming and you open your mouth, sticking out your tongue flat and looking up at him. He bites his lip and pulls his underwear down, his cock bobbing just out of reach of your mouth.

“Keep your mouth open.” His voice is a low rumble and he holds his dick by the base, rubbing the head across your tongue and lower lip, smearing his precum on your skin. He doesn’t quite taste like caramel, not like he smells, but he does taste sweet. You moan softly at the taste, fighting all your instincts to not close your mouth and take him in as far as he can go. “Fuck, good girl. Good girl.” He presses his cock in, slowly, until it reaches the back of your throat. “Close your mouth.”

You moan and do as your told, immediately curling your tongue around the shaft and sucking deep. He chokes out a moan and the sound sends a spike of arousal to your core, making you clench around the toy. He gently pumps his hips, sliding in and out for a few strokes. One hand caresses the top of your head and your heart flips at the tender treatment, but then he grins and tangles his hand roughly into your hair, snapping his hips harder. He starts to fuck your face in earnest, using his hand in your hair as an anchor to keep you in place. You start to take quick breaths in between his thrusts, trying to relax your throat so he can fuck into it. You’re rewarded by a loud moan the first time he does, his hips stuttering as he rocks back and forth in your throat. He pulls his cock out of your mouth, rubs your lips with it, and then shoves it right back in.

“Fuck yeah,” his motions are fluid and graceful, he fucks like he battles. He’s not giving you time to swallow as he snaps his hips in and out, and your saliva is pooling and running down your chin every time he pulls them back. He finally pulls out one last time, holding himself at the base and looking down at your messy face. Without looking Ground Zero reaches into the drawer and retrieves a line of packets. He rips one off the line and looks at it, then rolls his eyes back. “Okay, I know you didn’t make these.” You give him a shaky smile, still covered in your own drool, as he stares at the condom packet slogan. ‘BAKU BRAND: Reliable enough for your biggest explosions!’

He shrugs and rips open the condom, moving around to the back again. He rubs a hand over the print he left on your ass before lining himself up with your pussy. He lets his hands crackle with his quirk as he slams his hips in, and suddenly between Ground Zero and the dildo he left in, you feel unbelievably full. The hero immediately starts a brutal pace, shoving your face forward into the mattress with every thrust. You cry out with every thrust, and it only takes a handful before your pussy is clamping down around his cock again.

“Nngh, fuck, you’re so tight. That’s right, cum all over my cock.” His voice sounds harsh, like he’s losing control as he keeps pounding into you. His fingertips are digging into your hips again, definitely bruising, as he yanks you back into him. He slams back into you one last time with a hoarse shout, and you know he’s cumming. The thought that Ground Zero was cumming in you was enough to get you off one last time, your walls clamping a little weaker around him than the first two times. He holds there for a moment, holding you up as you sag on the bed. He slips out and you hear the snap of rubber as he removes the condom. His footsteps leave the room.

He’s back a moment later, pulling the toy from your stretched ass and undoing the bindings of the restraints. Your body sinks into your bed in exhaustion and you follow him with your eyes as he moves into your bathroom. You hear your bath water running and blink as Ground Zero steps back into your bedroom, then back out of it into the main area. He’s walking around like he owns the place and if you could move your body at all you’d say something about it.

He comes back again and lifts you into his arms, carrying you the same way he did into your apartment. “Here.” He holds a glass of water to your lips and tilts it. You look at him, confused, as you sip from the glass. “Good. Let’s get you cleaned up.” He carries you into your bathroom, carefully lowering you into the half filled bath. You hiss at the hot water and he immediately adjusts the temperature of the water filling the tub. He leaves the glass on the floor. “Keep drinking that. Don’t fucking drown.” He leaves the room again.

If you weren’t so utterly, deliciously sore you would wonder if you were dreaming. You’re only mildly aware that he comes back at one point to turn the water off before disappearing again like some kind of blonde ghost. The warmth is seeping into your bones and you’re feeling drowsy. You’re not sure how long you spend drifting in and out but you aren’t aware when Ground Zero comes back in.

“Hey.” His voice is soft and you open your eyes, blinking at him with a small smile. “Lean forward so I can wash your hair.” You lean forward as best as you can, assisted by the hero’s hands more than you actually do yourself. You’re able to hold yourself up by bracing your arms on the sides of the tub, and you hear the pop of a bottle as Ground Zero opens your shampoo. Then his hands and carding through your hair and you can’t help the small moan at how good it feels. He’s being so much more gentle than you thought he was capable of, especially after how rough he just was with you. He rinses your hair for you, then carefully washes your with your body soap.

Once he’s convinced you’re clean enough he pulls the drain on the tub, helping you to stand and wrapping you in a towel. You’re not so pathetic anymore and you’re able to walk, albeit shakily, back into your room without his assistance. “Get some pajamas. Don’t put them on yet.” Gentle or not his tone still leaves no room for disobedience, and you pull out a pair of boyshorts (Ground Zero ones, obviously) and a black tank top to leave on your bed. Ground Zero himself comes back out from your bathroom with the glass you didn’t finish and some aspirin. “Take this, and finish the fucking water like I already said to.”

You take the pills and sip on the water, watching him sleepily. He’s rifling through his pants pockets, still in his underwear, and pulls out a small green tube. “Alright, lay on your stomach.” He rolls his eyes at the look you give him. “No, not for sex, this is fucking aloe vera. If I don’t put it on your ass it’ll burn for a week.” He does give you a smirk at that, and you place the water on your nightstand so you can crawl onto your bed and lay on your back. His rough hands soothingly rub the aloe into your abused skin, and you can’t help drifting off to sleep again. There’s no sass left, only satisfaction. This time though, you don’t wake up when he’s done.

When you do wake up it’s almost the afternoon the following day. You’re dressed in the pajamas you picked out and tucked into your bed. You sit up, still feeling sore, and you can’t help but wonder if you imagining the whole of last night. It wouldn’t be the first time you had a dream like that, and it definitely wouldn’t be the last. Pity you didn’t wake up next to him, though. You ease out of bed and stretch, popping your back a little, before shuffling into the kitchen. On your counter top there’s an envelope. You tilt your head and slowly grab it, pulling it open. Inside is paper yen and a note. You pull the note out and open it.

“There’s food in the fridge. Make sure you fucking eat it. Cash is for the lamp I broke.”

You smile a little and skim further down the page. Your eyes widen at the phone number, but you about drop the paper at what’s scribbled underneath it. “For when you want to be a brat again. Maybe if you’re good, next time will be a creampie.

- GZ”

[popolitiko]

Bigots Get a Boost from the Bully Pulpit After Charlottesville

By Michael Scherer and Alex Altman - August 17, 2017

Nearly alone among the nation’s elected leaders, Trump saw a nobility of purpose in the fiery procession that began a weekend of street fights in Charlottesville, Va. White nationalists hoisted tiki torches that recalled the horrifying imagery of the Ku Klux Klan. They revived an old Nazi chant–“Blood and Soil” - which had been silenced in 1945 with American blood on German soil. And they mixed in a new anti-Semitic taunt, “Jews will not replace us,” meant to declare unity of the white race.

But to the President, those details did not tell the whole story. Marching with the racists, fascists and separatists, he argued, were some “very fine people” with a worthy mission. “Not all of those people were neo-Nazis, believe me,” he said on Aug. 15 at a press conference in the lobby of Trump Tower. “Not all of those people were white supremacists. Those people were also there because they wanted to protest the taking down of the statue of Robert E. Lee.”

It swept away any lingering delusions that Trump will harness the high office to unify a bitterly divided country.

American Presidents have often sought to seize the aftermath of a national tragedy to rally the nation together and point us beyond our history. This is the impulse that guided Ronald Reagan after the Challenger explosion, Bill Clinton after the Oklahoma City bombing, George W. Bush after Sept. 11 and Barack Obama after the Charleston church shooting.

But that is not Trump. Asked whether he would heed presidential custom by visiting the site of the tragedy, Trump replied that he owned a very large winery near Charlottesville.

His response was panned as a missed opportunity and massive error, not just by his foes but by scores of Republicans. It led Trump on Aug. 16 to preemptively dissolve two separate advisory councils of top CEOs after a string of resignations.

But his stance was no accident. It was a reminder that in some ways, Trump sees the world in the same us-against-them tones that inform his most racist supporters.

Throughout his business career, he used racial and ethnic divisions to his advantage. He sees the cultural norms that seek to minimize racial strife as “politically correct” barriers to free expression. Trump declared during the presidential campaign that an American with Mexican-born parents could not fairly adjudicate a case in which Trump was a party because of his immigration policies. On the campaign trail, he recited lyrics to a song that compared Muslim refugees to venomous snakes. Now, in the Oval Office, he is using the pulpit to tolerate and fan tribal grievance.

And he lashed out at others who came forward to criticize him. Trump’s longtime political Svengali Roger Stone has a maxim: “Politics is not about uniting people,” he told the New Yorker in 2008. “It’s about dividing people. And getting your 51%.”

That is not so far from the methods and goals of a revitalized white-nationalist movement, which sees in Trump a welcome partner.

“Thank you President Trump for your honesty & courage to tell the truth about #Charlottesville,” tweeted David Duke, a former Grand Wizard of the Ku Klux Klan, whose current ambition, like many at the rally, is the creation of an all-white American ethnostate.

Then, just days after vehicular terrorism in Charlottesville killed a young woman, Trump retweeted a photo of a train running over a man with the CNN logo on his face. (He later deleted it.)

All of which delights the angry white torchbearers. The new faces of American hate are now more likely to be a college-educated Internet trolls than goose-stepping skinheads. Instead of robes or hoods, they favor natty suits and New Balance sneakers, white polos and khaki pants. Dubbed the alt-right, they are a constellation of groups that organize online, delight in ironic and coded forms of communication, and typically have little actual influence outside of anonymous message boards and the comments section of revisionist YouTube videos that declare Adolf Hitler’s greatness.

Among this new racist right inspiration often comes from European fascist groups like Golden Dawn in Greece, the neo-Nazi Nordic Resistance Movement and the ultranationalist Russian philosopher Alexander Dugin, a close ally of Vladimir Putin’s. Their anger is directed at what they see as the dwindling fortunes of the white working class in America–an idea that the President has homed in on as well.

For this network of white grievance, Trump has been a godsend. “Finally someone at the level of presidential politics is speaking their language,” explains Lawrence Rosenthal, chair of the Center for Right-Wing Studies at the University of California, Berkeley. “This was a providential deliverance. He mobilized them in a way that has no precedent.

https://time.com/4904281/bigots-boosted-by-the-bully-pulpit-charlottesville/

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

Arnold Schwarzenegger Delivers a Powerful Message to Neo-Nazis after Charlottesville

Post is old, and needs to be shared again.

https://youtu.be/BaN78rXX6Lc

[avidbeader]

New Sheith Fic

Probably rated T, but we’ll see.

VLD post-S8, but Allura lives and the endcards are thrown on a trash heap where they belong

This is the fic thread I’ve been posting to Twitter for the last few days. Thought I’d share here as well. It’s between 1/3 and 1/2 done at this point. It will get to AO3 eventually once it’s finished and beta’ed.

I just got this idea of something that the Atlas might do in a given situation and ran with it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The first couple of requests were reasonable. A real-time updated roster of the Atlas crew made sense for both organizational and security purposes. A record of the ship’s known offensive and defensive capabilities was necessary as the admirals and generals developed strategies for any potential threats, minimal though they might be after Voltron’s defeat of Honerva.

The order to have a Garrison official installed as their liaison made Shiro pause, but only for a moment. On the one hand, there were already several crew members on board who performed that role: Sam, Mitch, Veronica, himself. On the other hand, it was not unwarranted for the Garrison to have a point person for communication purposes so as not to add an extra burden to the duties of any one crew member. If Shiro had tried to keep up with every Garrison inquiry or notification on top of his own duties as captain, he probably would have gone to the Black Lion and begged to be taken back to the astral plane. This would take one thing off his plate without pushing more responsibility on any member of the command staff.

But when a General Stone reported to him, demanding both quarters in the same section as the senior bridge crew and an office next to Shiro’s ready room, his hackles rose instinctively. Atlas’ presence in the back of his head, usually a quiet and cheerful sensation, grew wary like a wild animal sensing a predator.

“Given that this was only communicated to us today, you’ll have to make do in guest quarters until we are able to make arrangements, General. I didn’t expect anyone to be appointed, much less arrive so soon.”

Which meant that someone in the Garrison hadn’t wanted to give them time to ask questions or protest the decision. And the fact that a general was assigned to a position that should have gone to a lieutenant at most was unsettling.

Stone growled at him. “This lack of preparedness is the kind of thing that I’m here for. As one of the Garrison’s most valuable assets, the Atlas must be primed and ready for action at any given time.”

It took Atlas a moment to identify what the general meant, but Shiro knew immediately when she understood. There was now an angry cat hissing and spitting in his mind and it was taking everything Shiro had to maintain a polite expression.

“It’s not a lack of preparedness when information is not provided in a timely manner,” he retorted. The general reared back slightly, taken aback that Shiro had not immediately accepted the criticism.

Shiro pressed a button on a small console in his desk for show, but Atlas had already found the ship’s senior steward and asked him through his datapad to report to Shiro’s ready room. Before the general could form a response, he continued. “I’m sure you remember this from your protocol training, General, but bear in mind that aboard a ship, the captain is the ranking officer. You are welcome to observe and advise, but you are not part of the chain of command.”

Stone’s eyes narrowed and he entered something on the datapad in his hand. It beeped and he frowned. “What’s the matter with the connectivity here? My message didn’t go through!”

The malicious giggle that only he could hear was answer enough for Shiro. “I expect your device will need to go through a security clearance. Mention it to—” Shiro paused as his door opened before the steward could signal his presence “—the steward. Lieutenant Rasal, this is General Stone. He’s been assigned to us by the Garrison and will need quarters and an office when you are able to arrange it. In the meantime, could you escort him to an available space in the guest accommodations?”

The lieutenant nodded, the flash of a dimple in his cheek the only sign that he understood what Shiro was not saying. As the officer in charge of organizing lodging, supplies, and maintenance aboard the ship, he knew better than most what the Atlas was capable of. If she cared to, she could have produced everything Stone was demanding within minutes. Shiro was honoring her choice not to, and Rasal followed his captain’s lead. He saluted and held out a guiding hand.

“If you’ll come with me, sir.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Stone’s presence had an immediate and negative impact. He began by insisting on a full tour of the ship with Shiro. He complained constantly about the randomness of his datapad connection, too focused to pick up on the fact that Atlas was only letting neutral and positive reports get through. When Shiro convinced her that yes, she had to make him an office and a set of quarters, Atlas’ response was to make an office, not much bigger than a broom closet on the opposite side of the bridge from Shiro’s ready room, and a minimal set of quarters, as far away from Shiro as possible while still in the section for the command staff.

Stone’s next step was to observe, watching the normal routines of the crew. It made everyone nervous and more prone to mistakes. Even the oldest, most seasoned officers like Sam and Mitch were side-eying Stone when he was on the bridge. Shiro made time to circulate through the ship so he could reassure his crew that they had done nothing wrong. He noticed a sharp drop in the number of people hanging out in the common areas or lounges as any socializing shifted to rooms behind closed doors, out of Stone’s sight.

The Taujeerians made a formal request for the Atlas to map a nearby star system for potential relocation sites when their planet next went through its renewal cycle. Keith took advantage of the deep-space mission to run training drills with the lions and the MFEs, improving their teamwork and response times. Stone seemed especially interested in the paladins, having noticed how their quarters were all on the same hall as Shiro’s.

Shiro was in one of the conference rooms, talking with Baujal and his council, when Atlas nudged him, then sounded an alert on his datapad. He quickly excused himself and headed down to the Black Lion’s hangar.

He walked in on a shouting match between Stone, the paladins, and the MFE pilots. As he crossed to where they were gathered, he scanned their faces. Stone and Lance were nose-to-nose, yelling at one another, with Nadia backing up Lance. Keith, Allura, and James were clustered together. The others were watching closely, all in various stages of anger or irritation.

“...and I’ll see all of you court-martialed for this insubordination!”

“As their captain, I would appreciate knowing what your complaint is against Commander Griffin and his squad.” Shiro’s voice cut through the quarrel like a knife.

“These squads are refusing my direct order! I need to observe them in action and Kogane says he won’t permit me to board his ship!”

Shiro glanced at Keith, who cocked an eyebrow at him. He had held onto his temper and let Lance as his second lead the outburst against the general. Shiro’s pride in his best friend surged, knowing that just a few years ago Keith would have been the one shouting first.

“General, it is absolutely within Commander Kogane’s rights to refuse you access to the Black Lion. The Voltron team is not part of the Garrison—”

Stone interrupted him with a squawk of disbelief. “Since when?”

“Since always,” Allura interjected, her voice full of ice. “Voltron represents the Coalition and agreed to use the Atlas as one of our bases for ease of coordinating our efforts to build on the peace we have created. You may not simply demand access to any lion and expect to be obeyed without question.” Shiro noticed that Allura had used her shape-shifting abilities to make herself several inches taller than usual and she used that height advantage to glare down at the general.

“And as today’s drills are a joint exercise with the MFEs, you are not permitted to ride along with Commander Griffin. If he and Captain Shirogane give permission, you can observe the MFEs another time,” Keith added.

“I don’t need permission! I am—”

“Here to facilitate communication between the Atlas and the Garrison, or so I was told,” Shiro interrupted. “Unless there is a secondary agenda that has been kept from me, your remit doesn’t include breathing down the necks of my crew or our allies. You’ve been overstepping your role for days and it ends now.”

Stone drew himself to his full height, which meant he was eye level to Shiro’s collarbones, and snarled, “We’ll just see about this, Captain.”

His attempt at stalking out of the hangar was ruined when Black let out a menacing growl and Stone jumped in alarm.

Once he was gone, everyone began to relax. Shiro noticed that Keith’s stance was still rigid and went over to him, laying a soothing hand on one shoulder. “You okay?”

“We will be. Didn’t expect we’d have a battle before we even got in our ships.” Keith turned to Lance and Nadia. “Thank you both for stepping up.”

“No problem,” Nadia chirped. “He’s a puffed-up toad.”

“And now that he’s gone, we need to get back to work. These joint exercises will continue until further notice since we need to take advantage of our current situation.” Evil grins broke out as everyone understood what Keith was doing. “Do we need to go over today’s plan again?”

“Nah, we got this,” Pidge replied before throwing a glance Shiro’s way. “Thanks for coming, Captain.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It took four days for Stone’s message to the Garrison to get through, and another two days of Shiro showing the general his message inbox as proof that he had no instructions to discipline any of the MFEs. Stone’s temper was running high, as he had received a reprimand of his own from the Coalition over his attempt to assert jurisdiction over an ally’s representatives. The fact that that message had been received within hours only added to Stone’s fury.

Once Shiro finally got the orders that he was to punish all four MFE pilots for their insubordination, he met them before their usual workout routine and instructed them to run twenty extra laps around the track in the Atlas’ enormous gym. The squad’s groans turned to glee when they turned around and saw that the length of the track had been shrunk to a fifth of its usual size.

That evening, Keith tapped on the door that connected his quarters to Shiro’s.

Shiro looked up from the reports he was reading and frowned. “You knocked. What’s wrong?”

“Got a message from Kolivan. They found a ship of former Galra soldiers turned mercenary, and they’ve been hired by one side on a planet dealing with a pair of feuding lords. He wants to stop the conflict now before it spreads.”

“Should I—”

“No.” Keith shook his head. “If the Blades go in with stealth and take out the mercs, that puts the two sides at stalemate again and the planetary government might finally contact the Coalition for help. Then we can officially come in to negotiate a settlement.”

“Okay, if you’re sure.” Shiro reached out a hand and Keith took it, letting Shiro draw him into a tight hug as usual. And as usual, Shiro resisted doing or saying anything more. “Be careful.”

“You, too. I don’t like leaving you with that Garrison watchdog.”

“He’s here as a liaison.”

“He’s here to find a reason to ground Atlas.”

Even as Shiro shook his head at Keith’s statement, he could feel Atlas’ alarm. “No, that would be just about the worst move the Garrison could make. The Coalition planets recognize two major factors right now that ended the Galra Empire: Voltron and the Atlas. Taking one away would make the Garrison the new intergalactic villain.”

“Not forever, but long enough to figure out how to put someone else in command of her. They need you and Coran and Sam—hell, probably Iverson and Veronica, too—off her bridge so they can have complete control of her, including all her battle capability.”

“I mean...we do need to figure that out, if for no other reason because I will have to retire someday, but there’s no rush.” Shiro struggled to keep his expression mild as he dealt with twin reactions. He ran his hands along Keith’s arms to allay the sudden tension there and

mentally tried to soothe Atlas, who was almost screeching in fury as she surrounded him possessively.

Ironically, the strength of her reaction made Shiro stop and wonder if maybe the Garrison didn’t have a point. After all, he couldn’t lead Atlas forever. He might have done the impossible once thanks to Black and Allura, but humans still had limited lifespans. But surely the Garrison brass, if they were considering the options already, would talk to him about possibilities?

“Just keep an eye on your six while I’m gone, okay?” Keith squeezed his shoulder.

“I will.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He swung the sword as wide as he could, trying to hit as many opponents as possible as he forced them back.The roar of the spectators droned like machinery, a persistent buzz in the back of his head as he tried to reduce the impossible odds. Who had decided to punish him this way, with a dozen opponents? Was this the match where he finally died?

He shifted tactics, the sword in his hand shrinking back into a dagger. He took advantage of his smaller stature and dove between the legs of the nearest adversary, using him as a temporary shield against the others and slicing one quick stroke through the thigh above the cuisse. He spared a lightning-quick thought to thank the universe for giving the majority of bipedal beings a femoral artery.

He continued to dodge, eluding their attacks and striking at any weak point he saw. Suddenly there was only one enemy between him and an open path to the door and he dealt a vicious cut across the throat as he made his bid to escape.

Something struck and wrapped around him from behind, dragging him to the floor. He had just enough time to press the communicator at his wrist and signal the others to leave before the cord electrified, ripping screams from him before he blacked out—

Shiro shot upright, gasping for breath and fighting the covers that were tangled around him. There were sounds, the ordinary hum of the dim nightlights, his datapad beeping an alert, a furious pounding coming from somewhere in the next room...and an engine’s roar.

The Atlas was moving at top speed.

Shiro freed himself from the bedclothes and staggered to his feet. He grabbed the datapad and looked at the message, a priority one from the night comms officer—Cullen, Cuddy, something that began with C—stating that the Atlas had changed course about fifteen minutes before and was at full throttle. The bridge crew was locked out of all of the controls.

Shiro reached across the room with his prosthesis and snatched his robe from its hanger before moving into the sitting area. Once there, he identified the pounding as someone knocking furiously on the door to his quarters. Voices were coming from the hallway and they all sounded angry.

He pressed the control and the door slid open. General Stone staggered when his obstacle vanished, wrenching himself back upright from the momentum.

“Shirogane! What’s the meaning of the course change? You weren’t scheduled to be done with the Taujeerians for another forty-eight hours!”

The paladins were behind him, shouting at him for waking them all up. Shiro looked back down at his datapad and noticed a second new message below the one from the bridge. He opened it and felt the blood drain from his face.

It was two brief sentences from Kolivan: Mission a trap. Keith has been taken.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What do you mean, you can’t stop the ship? It’s a SHIP! You’ve got two Holts right here that can supposedly hack anything that beeps! Break the security codes and set a new course for Earth!”

Shiro had been walking briskly down a hallway, Atlas subtly cutting the distance to the bridge, and trading messages with Kolivan to coordinate a rendezvous point with the remaining Blades on the mission team, Krolia, and a squad of Coalition fighters led by Matt. He stopped short, so abruptly that Hunk ran into him, and stared at the general.

“Earth? What makes you think we’d go to Earth at a time like this? We’re going to rescue Commander Kogane!”

“You said it yourself, Voltron isn’t part of the Garrison!” Stone flapped a hand at the other paladins who had been trailing them. “So let them go take care of the situation! We’ve got to fix this malfunction immediately and since the ship was built by the Garrison, that’s the best place to go to do the repairs!”

Shiro couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt such a wave of derision. The mental image of Atlas in robot form and rolling her eyes brought him to the edge of hysterical giggles. It was verging on too much for him to handle.

Allura must have seen something in his face. She grabbed Stone by the collar and yanked him back before he could crowd into Shiro and continue his tirade. “If you are going to be so ridiculously focused on procedure in a situation this urgent, then consider this the formal request from the Coalition to the Atlas for support in a rescue operation!”

Stone tried to twist out of her grip and she hoisted him up until his toes barely touched the deck. His face grew red as he snarled, “Captain, I am ordering you to dismiss this group except for Katie Holt and turn all your efforts to retaking control of your ship!”

Pidge’s expression grew dangerous. Shior shifted and put one hand on her shoulder, willing her to hold her temper.

“As I told you the day you arrived, General, you are not part of the chain of command here. Your role is to keep both us and the Garrison informed of what the other needs to share. And you have not performed that role faithfully.

“The Coalition has every right to call on the Atlas. It was built from plans given to us by the Alteans and is powered by the crystal that houses the remains of their flagship. They have just as much claim to it as the Garrison does. We will lead the operation to recover Commander Kogane and you can inform the Garrison of our status. After that, you have two choices; you can stay in your quarters or be escorted to the brig until this operation is concluded. Which will it be?”

Stone stared at him, open-mouthed. Allura shook him, rattling his teeth with her strength. “You heard the captain. Which will it be? We have more important issues to deal with.”

“I am your superior officer and—”

Before Shiro could even bring up his datapad, much less start a message requesting assistance from security, a faint shimmer formed around Stone and Allura released her hold, skipping back nimbly. The general surged forward and bounced off the force field Atlas had brought up.

The paladins laughed as Stone began pounding his fists against the barrier. Allura smothered her giggles into her hand and looked at Shiro. “Shall we leave him here for the moment?”

Shiro was busy silently arguing with Atlas that, no, she could not open a portal in the floor and jettison the man into space. He gave one more psychic push, adding aloud, “Leave him here for now. We’ll take care of him later.”

They moved quickly to the bridge to find Sam and Coran with their heads together over one of the nav panels and the rest of the bridge crew huddled uneasily in the center. Sam brightened as he saw them enter. “Shiro! The Atlas has locked everyone out—”

Shiro stepped up to his position and laid both hands on the panels. He focused, trying to form a request to let the bridge crew access their stations in as clear and simple of terms as possible. He heard shouts of surprise in the background as the connection solidified and Atlas drew him in.

His hands were cuffed behind him. Two of the “mercenaries” dragged him from a pod into a hangar of a battleship, pausing in front of a Galra commander. The commander seized him by the throat and growled, “You’re almost certainly the right one, judging from your size, but let’s be sure. Drop your mask, Blade.”

He paused, just long enough to spark a reaction. The commander’s grip tightened. “Drop the mask or I tear it off. The druids want you alive, but they didn’t say that you had to be uninjured.”

He let the mask disappear and glared at his captor, who pulled his head up by his hair to study his face carefully.

“It’s him. Put him in a cell and double the guard on it.” The commander raised his wrist comm and opened a channel. “Set course for the Alvega system.”

The scene dissolved around Shiro, melding into the blue circuits that would surround him when the ship morphed into its robot form. Already he could sense Atlas changing course, plotting an intercept of the Galra battle cruiser.

We need to meet with the others. We need the Blades’ intel. We need Krolia and Kosmo. We need the backup from the Coalition.

You need him. Why do you waste time?

We need a plan. We need support. We can’t get him back safely if we just charge in.

Not fast enough.

The ship shuddered around him and Shiro grabbed the console to stay on his feet, his awareness of the bridge and its occupants returning. He rubbed at his temples with his left hand, trying to ground himself in reality once more.

“Shiro, how did you do that?” Coran shouted above the others’ reactions.

“Do what?”

“A wormhole...you took us through a wormhole, Shiro.” Allura spoke slowly, in shock.

The main viewscreen lit up, showing Kolivan and Krolia in two panels. Kolivan nodded, hiding any surprise he might be feeling. “Good, you’re early. Permission to dock our ships, captain?”

Shiro nodded, before remembering he had a voice. “Of course. Then we’ll get the Coalition ships and head for the Alvega system. That’s where they’re taking Keith.”

He closed his eyes and planted his hands on the control panel once more. Atlas, what are you doing?

You need him.

Yes, we need him. He’s the leader of Voltron. He’s a commander in the Blades.

YOU need him.

He...he’s my best friend.

More than need.

Image after image flooded past Shiro, showing him all the stages of his life that included Keith. The Garrison and Keith becoming his best friend there. The long nights as a prisoner, sustained by memories of Keith and the hope to escape and return to him. Reuniting, only to be dragged into the middle of an interstellar war and then killed. Brought back against impossible odds, with faint memories of what it had cost Keith to accomplish that.

He needs you. You need him.

Yes.

Then we get him back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

To be continued...