#but in the far off chance all the pain of being treated as a weapon and experimented on and and and decides to appear

[littlereddream]

Under Heavy Rot

You didn’t realize the apartment you were crashing in was already occupied, but the dead have already gathered outside and you’re too injured to fight any off. It helps that the stranger living in there isn’t so keen on kicking you out there with them, even if he did just have a gun to your head.

Warnings: zombie apocalypse au, similar to the walking dead but no prior knowledge required, also no spoilers here for the show. No characters from the show are featured here either. mild zombie apocalypse typical gore, all your normal apocalyptic warnings, gn reader

Every step you take burns like hell, pain shooting from your foot up, up, up all the way into your knee. You aren’t sure how long you’ve been walking, how long since your last camp was completely overtaken by the living dead. You’d thought it was safe, that it was impossible for them to cross the river without being swept away.

It was foolishly easy to let your guard down there, things settling into a peaceful routine. Life became peaceful. In the mornings, you’d even collect eggs from the chickens and bring them to the cook. Friendships with other survivors led to lively dinners around the campfire, filling the air with story after story.

You should’ve realized something was off when you woke up to distant snarls outside your tent instead of the familiar rooster’s crow.

In everyone’s rush to scatter, you’d been so focused on getting out of there that you’d forgotten about one of the camp’s main defenses. It was a matter of luck that you hadn’t lost your foot entirely to the bear trap, thanks to a woman with a hatchet being kind enough to pry you free before escaping with her family.

You’d been lucky then. But now? The longer you go without treating the wound leaves you more and more susceptible to infection.

Half a day’s walking has you wandering into one of the city’s nicer neighborhoods. It’s unusually nice for Gotham, but it makes sense for being on the city’s outskirts. You can’t help but imagine it’s history before the outbreak. While walking, you can see a rusted basketball hoop on one of the driveways. It’s easy enough to imagine neighborhood kids playing, laughing while their parents watch them from the porch over fresh barbecue.

You head up the front steps of a place two houses down from there, wedging your knife into door’s crack until it’s creaking open with a quiet click.

Maybe it’s the pain, or maybe you’re just exhausted from the day. Whichever it is causes you to step inside without checking every corner. Three steps in, and the door is slamming shut behind you.

“Don’t move.”

The familiar click of a weapon’s safety coming off.

There’s near silent shuffling behind you, measured footsteps too practiced to tell where the voice is coming from.

“Drop the knife.”

So screwed. So stupid. You were gonna die. This man is gonna kill you and it’s all gonna be because you couldn’t clear a room.

Your knife drops from your fingers, landing on the ground with a clatter.

“Now kick it away.”

You do, and with it goes your last chance of defense.

You take the chance to turn around, slow as you can. Whatever you were expecting to see, it’s far from what’s stood in front of you. The guy might have a gun pointed at your head, but you’re injured, not blind. This would make it the first time you’ve met somebody who pulls off the post apocalyptic look so well.

“Is that a bite?” He asks, gaze flickering to your foot.

Right. Words.

You’re quick to shake your head. “No. No, just got caught in a trap.”

He relaxes a little, but it’s almost immediately after that both of you are flinching. His weapon flies to point at the door, and your hands clench reflexively around your now empty knife sheath. A car alarm.

The stranger swears, clipping his pistol back into his belt before slipping into the closest room. There’s some rustling coming from inside, but you take the momentary distraction to lean against a wall, shifting weight off your injured leg.

“So,” you begin, uncertain,” I really didn’t know anyone was staying in here. I can go find another house to crash, seriously.”

He’s back, carrying a chair to shove in front of the double door, wedged underneath the doorknobs.

“No leaving,” he states, absolute with no room for negotiation.

You raise a brow at him when he glances back at you, but he just gestures towards the peephole. Cautious, hand as close as you can get it to the hilt of your knife without actually drawing it, you stumble forward. It’s hard to ignore the way the stranger’s eyes linger on your ankle, but you lean in to look outside anyway.

You’d thought it was bad at the camp. At least a dozen walkers tore away at your closest friends.

More than two dozen herded together outside. Half of them were climbing over each other, clawing at the empty car for any bit of medal their fingers would catch on. The other half walk aimlessly, twitching at every little sound that could mean another bite to eat.

You lean away from the door, thankful to find the stranger hasn’t moved a single inch out of place. His arms are crossed over his chest, almost smug in a way like he’s daring you to take your chances outside.

Ten minutes later, you’re sitting on his kitchen table while he’s got a chair pulled up in front of you, your ankle cradled in his hands.

“What’s your name?” You ask.

His thumb brushes over the corners of the wound, and your fingers grip the table’s edge a little tighter.

“Sorry.” The fingers pull back, reaching for the wet towel to your left. “It’s Jason.”

Jason cleans the wound as gently as he can, whispering quiet apologies for every sound of pain that leaves your lips. You tell him your own name through gritted teeth, and he seems to accept it as forgiveness for the necessary pain.

Once your ankle is fully wrapped, he carefully pulls down the hem of your pant leg to cover it. For a second, neither of you move. His hands stay there, and you don’t bother pulling your foot away.

Then he’s pushing his seat back to stand, clearing his throat.

“There’s an empty bedroom upstairs. You can stay here till your ankle heals. If you really want to leave, then at least wait till the herd clears up,” he suggests, rushing to clean up all the leftover medical supplies.

You stay till the herd leaves. Then you stay a little longer. Eventually, you can walk without any pain at all. You stay anyway.

Then you’re completely healed up and Jason suggests you stay a little longer. “Just in case,” he says.

Then it’s been a month and the only time you’ve ever brought up leaving, he looked at you like the option never even crossed his mind. You stay a little longer.

During a supply run, Jason kisses you. You got attacked by three walkers, backed up into a shelf of a nearby corner store.

Later, Jason blames it on the adrenaline from saving you. Later, he apologizes and promises that it won’t happen again.

But in that moment, with his calloused hands cupping your jaw, his breath shared with yours, leaving stops crossing your mind too.

Two weeks after, you learn that Jason can’t ever make good on a promise that involves staying away from you. Two weeks later, you kiss him first and he returns it with all the fervor of a starved dog.

[prolix-yuy]

Beautiful Release

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader

Summary: You and Din have an agreement. Simple, clean, easy. But not this time.

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: Explicit, 18+ MINORS DNI, IT'S PEGGING DIN TIME! Anal sex (m receiving), rough sex, sex toys, fingering (m receiving), handjob, frottage, blowjob, swallowing, cumshot, mentions of oral sex (f receiving), mild dubcon (Reader isn't aware of Din's mental state and stops the session to re-negotiate boundaries), painful sex, sex as self-flagellation, hurt/comfort.

Notes: Welcome to my addition to the Peg That Middle Aged Man Event 2024! This idea had been bumping around in my brain and this gave me the perfect excuse to write it. Thanks @wannab-urs for organizing this event, making the gorgeous banners, and giving me a chance to live my fantasies after S3 gave us the most delicious kneeling restrained Din image. I will never forget it, it's burned into my brain forever.

Set after S2 and before The Book of Boba Fett.

Cross-posted on AO3

He’s come to you before, but never like this.

Din always treats your encounters like serendipity, but from the first time you’ve known how far from the truth that is. He finds ways to drift into your path, tilting his helmet like he never expected you to be at this spaceport, which you prefer for its discretion, or in this cantina, which serves a hell of a barium fizz. The niceties always devolve into the silent request, which you never fail to fulfill.

But now, there’s a holomessage blinking on your control panel.

Send me your coordinates. Usual encoding.

It’s brisk, cold, mostly to protect you both, but even then something’s off. He’s never admitted to seeking you out. Something stirs deep in your stomach, consulting the encoding slug he gave you ages ago in case you ever needed him. Funny, the first time you’d use it would be because you think he needs you.

Your winding relationship with Din Djarin began at the business end of a blaster, but you can’t fault him for that. The ship you were flying then had all the hallmarks of a slaver vessel, but when he found your crew of rebel sympathizers he lowered his weapon. One escort and a few short-lived conversations later, and you’d forged a razor-thin alliance. 

Your paths wound their way across and through each other for over a year, and in that time Din warmed to you. He gave you his name, his allegiances, his contacts if needed. In return you forged documents and built jammers for his ramshackle ship. Mutually beneficial, and after a time pleasantly warm. His laugh always surprised you, a low chuckle when you turned a phrase just right on him. 

And the kid! The curious little gremlin that had been accompanying him more in recent times did help to smooth the rough spots. Grogu’s presence always brightened your days, brief moments of pure joy from his tireless antics. Din seemed to be ever the exasperated protector, but when he tucked Grogu into his arm his aura glowed. 

However, the times when Din “stumbled” upon you with seemingly no purpose had little to do with play dates or trades. Well, maybe only in the most euphemistic sense.

It was on a cargo run - cargo being more frightened people fleeing under the guise of your fake shipping business - that Din first encountered what would bring him back to you time and time again. There was a man among the stowaways who took an interest in you, the feeling mutual. He wound his way around like a lothcat in heat, and when you whispered how you might be able to pass the time he enthusiastically agreed. 

You weren’t much of an exhibitionist, but the ship wasn’t meant for privacy. So when Din happened upon you bending the man over a cargo crate, your strap slickly splitting him open as he moaned behind your clamped hand, you did feel some mild embarrassment. You weren’t sure how long he watched you thrust into the other man, but the little cough that alerted you to his presence made you turn and take him in.

He was clearly affected, hand gripping his belt as the other clenched by his side. Fascinating. The Mandalorian had surprises in store. 

The man garbled about sucking Din’s cock, letting the Mando cum on his face while you pounded his tight hole, but you stuck your fingers in his mouth and picked up your rhythm again. You’d met other Mandalorians in your travels, but Din’s particular religion was much stricter than most. He might take hefty offense if you assumed any of the armor could come off. Instead you let him watch without comment as your companion came all over the side of the cargo crate, soothing him through the aftershocks. As you cleaned him up you noticed your audience fled, and you determined never to speak of this. 

It would take two months for Din to come to you. 

“People like this?” he asked when you showed him your strap and assortment of attachments. You shrugged, picking out the one you secretly thought he’d enjoy.

“Some do, some don’t. It’s just one of many things I like,” you said, leaning against your bedroom wall as he filled the small space with restless energy. “I’m sure you like plenty of things too.”

There it was. The little roll of the shoulders and flex of a hand that told you Din wasn’t as inexperienced as some would believe. 

“Never tried something like this,” he mumbled, and you smiled under the knowledge that he was nervous. Din Djarin, feared throughout the galaxy, and dearer friend than you ever expected, had something he wanted and didn't know how to ask for.

“Would you like to try it?” you said, taking the last barrier away. He tilted the helmet down, fingers restless on his hip. 

“Yes.”

That first night you didn’t fuck him, though by the end he was so close to begging you almost came from the sound. Instead you opened him up with your fingers, got him used to the feeling of fullness and how to connect it to pleasure, while he laid on your bed and gripped the sheets so hard you thought he’d rip them. His pants bunched across his thighs, you got to admire the cords of muscle rippling as you made him shake and choke. His cock, velvety and weeping on his stomach, made your mouth water, but you only offered to suck it when he was just on the precipice. Your hot mouth wrapping around his head, two clever fingers stroking his prostate, tipped him over into bliss as he shouted his completion. Pride swelled in your chest at his belabored breath, chestplate heaving and thighs quivering on either side of your head. 

When you returned from cleaning up he was already dressed again, despite your protests to wait and let you ease him down from this new experience. He thanked you, awkwardly, and left quickly. Lying in the same bed that night, still smelling of him, you reasoned with yourself. He probably had a lot of feelings to sort out, both around his pleasure and the fact that you gave it to him. You hoped he trusted you enough to know you’d be discreet. And, as your fingers slid into your underwear, you hoped he’d seek you out again.

It was only a week before you were at the same spaceport again, his heavy boots clanking up your ramp. You tried to hide your own nerves, but when Din stood before you and let the visor drag up and down your body, a delicious grin crept onto your face.

“Ready to try more?”

Indeed he was.

He enters your ship without preamble, a brief flit of concern clouding your features at how quickly he disarmed your security measures. You weren’t expecting him for another hour. He must have jumped to get to you. 

It’s thrilling, to know the Mandalorian’s need is so great. 

But when he enters and closes the door behind him, the energy is…off. Not seductive, teasing, edged like the other times. No, he’s holding his body so tight and so still. There’s nothing aggressive in it, but you glimpse why his enemies fear him. Without a face, and with so much obscuring the flesh beneath, you’re not sure when he’ll strike. 

He catches you rummaging through your drawer, the strap in your hand. Assessing, you give him a gentler smile than usual, hands visible, softening your stance.

“Hello, Din.”

He nods, quickly, unbuckling his belt and yanking his cape free. Both fall to the floor carelessly. You press on.

“How about you tell me what you want?” you say, watching him carefully as he opens his pants plaquet. The mouthwatering strip of skin you covet peeks from beneath his top.

“Just need…need this,” he says, and while naturally a man of few words you’d taught him to be more vocal in this respect. 

“Okay, Din. How about you kneel on the bed and we start there?” Your voice lowers into a soothing register, reaching for his arm. 

“No,” he almost shouts, startling your hand back. He recovers. “No, I want…” You can practically hear him licking his lips on a sigh, slowing himself down. “Can you sit against the headboard?”

Brows raised, you nod. He’s never ridden you before, always preferring to let you take him from behind or on his back. Pulling the strap-on over your leggings, you settle against the headboard and wait for him. He doesn’t take long, kneeling on the bed briefly in contemplation before swinging over your lap. Shucking his pants half down his legs, you can’t resist a giggle.

“Might be better to take them off,” you tease, letting your hands lay featherlight on his hips. A huff crackles through the vocoder but he doesn’t move to disrobe further. 

“I’ll open you up a bit first,” you say, one hand reaching for lube while the other snakes its way to his hole. You encounter surprising slickness, but he’s nowhere as warmed up as you get him.

“S’okay, I took care of it,” he mumbles, both hands coming up to grip the headboard above your head. Slicking lube on the dildo, you move to finger him enough to ease your way in.

“Just a little more…”

“I’m fine.”

The curt retort snaps your face to the helmet, now more of a cowled chin and shining halo of beskar above your head. There’s something bubbling uncomfortably under the surface, something you feel the need to drag out by the scruff of the neck, but it’s Din. You never talk feelings with Din. Frankly, you barely talk at all during, or after, any of your nights together.

“Sorry,” he breathes, forcing relaxation. “I’m ready. Please.”

Your eyes linger for a moment longer, then you circle the base of your cock in waiting.

He descends slowly, gritted breaths and sharp blasts of air from his nose echoing above you. You watch the strain in his thighs as he sinks and sinks, his cock only half-hard against his stomach. Leaving a hand on one hip, you stroke soothing paths up and down his lower back, watching for discomfort. Instead he’s marble around you, coiled, body not releasing as usual. Normally when you fuck him he dissolves, rolling his hips back onto you and choking out praises of how good you feel.

None of that comes. He meets the base of your cock and immediately slides back up at an almost punishing pace. He can’t be that acclimated yet, and his pained hisses and grunts only make that more apparent. 

“Din, slow down,” you request, hands firmer on his hips to try and even his pace. If he heard you he says nothing, now slamming his hips down on your cock. “Din,” you beseech again, nails starting to dig in. His grunts grow to growls, something from the heat of battle, your headboard creaking from his crushing grip. 

Clarity overtakes you, the shudder of his stomach and forceful downstrokes only getting more intense. There wasn’t pleasure in this. Something is eating up Din inside and he’s trying to fuck it out of himself. And he’s using you to do that.

“Din Djarin, STOP.”

The echo of your voice, strong and steely, finally brings Din to a stop with your cock buried deep in his ass. His chest heaves in front of you, limbs quivering from the exertion, but he’s as still as he can be. Gripping his chestplate, you push him back enough to look him in the visor, your anger righteously reflected back.

“You don’t punish yourself with my cock,” you order, teeth clenched and seething. “Do you think so little of me, that I’d just let you rip yourself to shreds without a word?” 

Din freezes, but this time you know it’s shame. If you were in a clearer headspace you might have tried reassurance, or asked him to lay beside you and talk about what’s destroying him, but you’re just too upset. 

“Is that all you come to me for?” you spit out, knuckles aching from gripping his armor. He’s silent for long enough that you consider throwing him out before he speaks.

“Something happened. And I just want to…be empty. To not think about it every moment.” He leans forward and your visage warps as he presses his forehead to the crown of your head. The anger thrums but starts to ebb as he folds around you. “I didn’t know where else to go. You’ve always taken care of me. More than I deserve.”

The sadness in his voice is palpable, and even with your mouth still sour from his deception you find the compassion to wrap your arms around his middle. The chestplate presses into your cheek, a metronome for Din’s slowing breaths. 

“If you have any care in your heart for me, don’t ever do that again,” you grit out. Din’s breath catches. 

“I care for you,” he says, and a door in your heart you never realized was cracked widens for Din’s admission. 

“I care for you too, you karking asshole, which is why I want you to say something instead of trying to hate fuck your feelings out.”

Din’s chest begins to shake again, but you’re sure it’s laughter this time. You manage a giggle of your own, letting him lean back and look at you again. The motion shifts your cock in him, and his sharp sigh arches your brow.

“If you wanted to forget, you could have just told me,” you say, rolling your hips sensuously up into his clenching hole. Din’s head drops back, grip tightening on the headboard again as you grind into him.

“Please,” he begs, so soft and vulnerable you can’t help but give him what he needs. 

Slowly you press up into him, guiding his hips to rock on your cock. You love the feel of his ass in your hands, well muscled and perfect for grabbing, manhandling him just enough to show he can let go. He follows your direction reluctantly at first, but as you plant your feet and start thrusting with more range he loosens. You can feel it in his arms, holding on to the headboard for dear life, and the building rhythm of his hips meeting yours. For a man whose life is violence, you never want to bring that into your sessions. But a light swat on one asscheek pulls the most delicious moan from deep in his chest.

“Fuck,” he groans, bearing down on you even more. Tilting your hips, you arch his back enough that you’re sure to hit his prostate on the next thrust. 

“Maker!”

There it is.

“Close your eyes,” you whisper. Waiting a moment, you zero in on that perfect spot inside him and hit it with every one of your thrusts. “Do you feel that? Feel how good I’m fucking you?”

“Yes, fuck,” Din curses, one hand flitting down to squeeze the base of his cock. He’s at full attention now, head bobbing against your stomach. You swell with pride that he’s having to stave off his orgasm so quickly, but you’ll be the one to make those decisions now. 

“All I want you to think about is how good you feel,” you purr, tugging his hand away and replacing it with your own. You long for his skin against yours, so you pull up your shirt to skim the head of his cock against your soft belly. He chokes, stuttering away but he’s trapped between your hand and thighs.

“Wait, Maker, I’ll cum if you…” he garbles, but his body keeps meeting your grinds. You shush him gently, stroking from base to tip and smearing precum over the head. 

“You will, but only when I let you. You know I’ll make it good for you, make nothing but this pleasure you’re feeling fill that head of yours.” His rapid nod almost knocks you in the head with the beskar, but he manages to tuck into your neck instead. The helmet is a shocking cool against your skin, but the act of burrowing into you must be rewarded. Bringing your arms around him, you press along the length of his body, trapping his cock between.

“I’m gonna pound into this tight ass until you cum all over us. You like that?” The wail Din lets out shoots heat to your cunt, wishing more than anything that you’d opted for a toy that gave you a little stimulation too. Instead you hammer fast and hard, barely pulling out. Your hips and thighs burn with exertion at his bulk on top of you, but he’s frantically bouncing back and rutting his cock into the wet mess your bodies make. 

“Don’t stop,” he gasps, and you’re not sure if it’s the vocoder but you think his voice sounds watery. “Please, cyar’ika, don’t stop.”

Cupping the back of his neck, damp with sweat, you whisper, “I’ve got you.”

With a handful of final pumps you’re coated in his cum, sliding around your belly as he seizes over and over. Pressing deep, you hold strong against his shuddering body as he finishes. Each weakening thrust draws him down on you, heavier and loose-limbed. 

The armor makes it hard to find the soft spots, so you take to kneading the back of his neck and palming his spine. Before his last aftershock, you urge him higher on his knees so you can slip your cock out - slowly, so as not to shock his jellying body. Easing him down, you hold his head in the crook of your neck and settle him on your lap. His hands slide down from the headboard to your shoulders. 

Then you hear it. A tiny sniff, then another. You can’t pretend you didn’t notice them so close to your ear. So you gather the broad man in your arms and hold him. His hands don’t know where to rest, finally winding loosely around your lower back.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” you tell him again, and the sniffing starts to recede. His body, however, slumps against yours, and it takes all of your strength not to start giggling.

You fucked the Mandalorian right to sleep. Bravo to you.

When Din finally stirs, a deep rumble in his throat, it’s been almost an hour. Your toes are half numb and you’re dying to shift into any other position, but much like a lothcat falling asleep on your lap, you couldn’t bear to move Din. Especially when he started snoring, one of the most endearing and hilarious sounds you’d ever heard him make. 

In the time he slept you wondered what happened. What terrible thing hollowed him out and haunts him. Something keeps him up at night, if the depth of his sleep is any indication. Recent, possibly. Traumatic.

Your breath caught in your throat. If something happened to Grogu you know he would have told you. You ask after him all the time, teasing that you’ll be his Auntie (Din always says he has plenty of them across the galaxy). 

Had you seen the Razor Crest fly up? Where was that old bird anyway?

What happened in the time since Din last saw you?

The cycle of possibilities always ends the same. Maybe he cares for you in some way, but not enough for you to ask. No matter how much you want to.

A shift on your lap alerts you to Din waking, kneading his shoulders and neck lightly to alert him to your presence. He’s never slept with you before, but it wouldn’t surprise you to learn that he’s quick to draw at unexpected circumstances. Of which this one definitely is.

“What…” Din croaks, and if not for the helmet you would have offered him water. 

“It’s okay, you’re on my ship. You’re okay.” 

It takes Din another minute to realize what’s happened. Him, half naked on your lap with your strap pressing against his ass. You, covered in drying cum beneath him. In a flash he’s swinging his leg off your lap, attempting to stand but obviously they’ve gone as numb as yours because he stumbles and crashes out of sight. 

“Oh kriff, are you…?” you start to ask, but as quick as he’s out of sight he pops back up again, tugging up his pants and tucking himself away.

“Sorry, that was…I didn’t mean to…do that.” 

All of the heaviness and anger and lust fizzles away to laughter as you try to suppress the ridiculousness of the moment. After a moment of indigent head tilting Din’s shoulder also shake, chuckles fuzzing out of the vocoder. 

“Oh Maker, what an understatement that is,” you sigh, wiping your stomach with the edge of your bedsheets. Din visibly cringes, hands on his hips.

“Sorry for the mess,” he apologizes, but you wave it off.

“I’ve had much worse, believe me,” you shoot back. Clean enough, you sit on the edge of the bed and look up at the inscrutable man. 

“Want to talk about it?”

Din’s stance shifts, helmet tipping down for a moment before coming back to your face.

“...Not yet.”

You hum and nod. “Well, you know how to find me if you do.”

Din nods. “Thank you.”

As he picks up his effects you shimmy off the harness at the foot of the bed, mentally ticking through the steps to clean everything. Din watches you set it down, stilling until your eyes come back to him.

“It gives you pleasure as well?” he asks, which raises one of your eyebrows.

“I mean, about as much as rhythmically hitting your hips against someone can do.” His posture changes into something hard to decipher, so you continue. “I’ve got a few that do more for me, but it depends on the person I’m with. Comfort, boundaries. As you’re well aware.” You gesture to the armor, his chin tucking down to look at it.

“So you’ve never cum with me?” he asks, and a sudden feverish heat blooms under your skin. Din has a sex appeal you appreciate, but have never acted on beyond what he’s asked for. Now, something’s changed so dizzyingly fast you’re scrambling.

“Well, you’re pretty spent after our sessions. And you leave quickly. I don’t ask for more than you can give.”

Din takes a step towards you, putting his belt and cloak back down.

“What do you ask of other people you fuck?”

Your heart hammers in your chest. How can he turn the tables so quickly and spectacularly? Trying to gain the upper hand, you pull a confident face on and speak as breezily as possible.

“Most can’t get it up twice after I fuck them within an inch of their life, so fingers, tongues, toys, any and all of the above are excellent ways to repay the favor.”

He’s even closer now, and the facade is barely holding up. It’s like the vulnerability he showed you can’t possibly be returned.

“You’ve never asked me,” he says, and you can’t believe there’s a note of regret in his voice. The bed hits the back of your legs, and you steady your voice even though those words make your pussy throb.

“I didn’t think it was allowed.” Your voice drops low as Din steps into your space. 

“Difficult, but not forbidden.” Din’s hands come to your shoulders. “Sit down, please.”

Your knees fold so fast you bounce on the bed, looking up at him. He joins you on one knee, hands coming to rest on your thighs.

“I broke my Creed. I would do it again, for the exact same reason, but now that makes me an apostate.” His hands come to the helmet, thumbs tucking underneath the lip.

“Din, what happened?”

He pauses, and you swear you can feel his gaze through that smoky visor. 

“Close your eyes.”

Darkness surrounds you, then a hiss and a thunk. 

Then the voice of a man you care for, unfiltered and bare.

“I’m not ready for anyone to see my face. But I want this, with you. If you can forgive me.”

You could be dreaming still. It would make just as much sense.

“I forgive you, Din. But just this once,” you sneak in at the end just to hear how melodic his laugh sounds. Then his hand splays over your stomach and urges you to lie back.

“I hope you don’t mind teaching me this. I don’t have much experience,” he says, fire licking through your body as he tugs your leggings and underwear off.

“Don’t worry, you’re a quick learner,” you say breathily.

And when he finally kisses you, sweet with your musk on his tongue and your orgasm dripping from his fingers, you teach him how to do that as well.

END

"I need some distraction Oh a beautiful release Memories seep from my veins Let me be empty Oh and weightless and maybe I'll find some peace tonight.

Sarah McLachlan, Angel (yeah I know I used the sad dog song)

[angelkissiies]

Ive had this image in my head all week and i need to excorcise it so im writing it here. Feel free to ignore.

I really think Abby should get to rip open a clicker's skull by jamming her hands into that... I have no idea how to describe it... you know that split up their faces where the two halves of their explodey mushroom heads meet... jam both hands in there and rip it apart like whichever Chris splitting that firewood in that MCU movie... where he... does that... I'm vaguely remembering a gif...There's a reason why you write and I send asks on anon and it's not cos I'm articulate.

But yeah, whoever plays Abby in the HBO show should get to do that, as a treat! :)

Also, for us Abby x Reader nerds, just picture it: You think you're fucked, there's a clicker crawling toward you, you lost your weapons somehow (stay with me). You're scrabbling backwards but its faster than you, there's nowhere to go and all you can do is accept your fate. Out of nowhere, Abby jumps on its back, grabs the motherfucker's face as its inches away from yours and pulls it into her chest to rip it apart. Blood everywhere. She's breathing heavy. You can't believe she'd be so stupid to put her hands IN a clicker's FACE. She can't believe you thought she wouldn't try everything to save you. Then you make out. You know?

Exorcism complete

i kinda just threw this out because you seriously inspired me !! i hope this is an okay rendition of your vision !!

You’d run out of options, dodging behind a half wall to escape the roaming clicker that you’d gotten trapped with. The floor to the room you’d been searching caved in and left you empty-handed, scrambling around in the dark to gain your bearings- though before you’d had the chance to dig your flashlight out of your pack, you heard the telltale clicking noise come from down the hall. It was one bad situation after another, leading you to where you sat now, clutching the only useful thing you could find in the array of items you’d retrieved from the building.

The light from your flashlight bounced off of the ceiling, illuminating your surroundings as you peeked around the corner, seeing the cordyceps ridden being shuffling around the stairwell. So far, it only seemed like it was the one, which sounded easy enough right? Wrong, without a knife you were almost certainly fucked- seeing as their growths served as a king of armor for them. “Goddamn it.” You mouthed, hearing the floorboards above where you sat squeak- catching the clickers attention.

You quickly moved, taking refuge in a small corner, having no place else to go now. The room only had one exit and as you used a hand to cover your mouth, you saw the hypersensitive infected shuffle in- whipping its blinded head around as it made a hellacious screaming noise. It knew, somehow, that something was down here. Its legs drew it further and further into the room until it was just feet away from you. You knew this was it, do or die- and the circumstances had forced your hand to choose the latter- squeezing your eyes shut as you braced yourself for the inevitable lunge.

Abby had made it, just seconds before it was too late- not even thinking to draw her knife as she saw your unmoving figure coward under the clicker. She moved too fast for it to counter her, her heavy boot coming into contact with its knobby kneecap- causing it to fall before her. Her heart was racing, hands jamming inside the monster's mouth- fingers securing on the flattened beds of its teeth as she forced the bones apart- a sickening noise of pain emanating from its mouth as the pieces came apart in her hands. The blood from the kill didn’t phase her, not wasting a second as she threw the pieces of the skull onto the floor, coming to her knees before you. “Baby?” She whispered, rubbing the blood from her hands onto the legs of her cargo pants.

You could barely hear her over the sound of your heartbeat echoing in your ears, only jumping when you felt her calloused fingers brush the hair from your face back. Your eyes darted up, slightly blurry from how tight you’d screwed them shut- arms immediately latching around her shoulders as you launched yourself at the girl. “Fuck, oh god, Abby.” You shuddered, fingers digging into the dark blue of her jacket, burying your face in her neck. “I thought it was over.”

She let out a shaky breath, thinking the same, as she wrapped her arms around your waist- pulling you impossibly close. “I’d never let anything happen to you.” She said matter-of-factly, mind still racing as she took a deep breath- inhaling the sweet scent of your coconut shampoo. It had been a gift, something you only used once in a while due to its scarcity, and she thanked god you decided to use it today- feeling the nerves dwindle as she melted into you. “Would do anything to keep you safe.”

[toadstoolwriting]

Star Crossed- Prologue

Warnings: Anxiety, gunshot wounds

Word count: 887

Series masterlist

Chapter One

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His chest heaved with every breath, his heart ramming against his chest. The noise of his legs hitting the ground with every step was deafening. He looked behind his shoulder, terrified of being followed. He kept running. As fast as he possibly could. The snow-covered mountains and hills around the base where he was kept would have provided a good cover if not for the fact that he was wearing only black clothing. His clothing and the metal arm permanently fused to his left shoulder would make it impossible to blend into his surroundings.

A burning sensation struck through his right shoulder. Instinctively, he ignored it as his conditioning dictated. Instead, his head whipped around, searching for the bullet's origin. Narrowing his eyes, he spots a figure on the mountainside. A sniper perched on top of the cliff. This would make getting down the mountain more difficult, as a sniper could spot him several miles away. Without any weapons to defend himself, all he could do was duck behind a boulder. Not to hide but for cover. Hopefully, if the sniper tried to shoot him, it would be enough to stop it.

He eventually made it down the mountain. By now, the sun had set, and it was dark. He found a road and followed it down to a small town. He had run with every might he had left in his body. He felt exhausted, his legs nearly carrying him as far as he could for miles and miles. He knew he needed to rest but couldn't because Hydra could be right behind him. A light came from behind him, his neck flinched in the direction. The beating of his chest was loud and erratic, as was his breathing. The car's headlights obstructed his vision, not allowing him to see the driver until the vehicle drove past him. His breath calmed as he kept moving, limping down the road until he could walk no longer.

He came upon a small diner on the edge of a town, its lights assaulting his eyes in the dark. Sighing, he knew that his body would give up at any time. Despite the serum that would forever pump through his blood, there was still only so much that his body could take, especially with the gunshot to his shoulder and the blood dripping down. He scoffed, completely forgetting about the blood that would lead a trail right to him. His eyes moved up to where he had been walking. He had lost a lot of blood, considering his eyes couldn't focus on the trail of it. Closing his eyes, he prayed to whatever could be there that there wasn't a trail from the mountain. He looked back at the diner, knowing that he would have to rest if he had any chance of survival. One leg slowly moved after the other. He came to the back of the diner, hoping that the back of it would have something to either hide him or treat his wounds.

He moved alongside the diner's wall, knowing he had snuck into high protocol facilities and other stealth missions. Images of his assignments have flashed before his eyes sometimes, but he always shook them out of his mind, not wanting the painful reminders of what he's done. He had no idea how he would get into the diner. From what he could see, surveying the outside of the building, it was just a typical diner. He noticed a window. Inside was a softly lit room. Considering the restaurant was relatively quiet but had a few patrons, he could bet no one was in the room. He looked around him. There was a simple trash can next to him. Looking inside, he found a box with tape still on it. He took the tape off the box and stuck it to the window. It covered enough of the window for him to punch it without it shattering, thus making a lot of noise. He withdrew his metal arm and quickly hit the glass, breaking it. Luckily for him, it didn't make much noise but a simple thud, praying that no one would come in and investigate. He took off the tape with the glass and then used his metal arm to get rid of the rest of the glass so he could get through without getting any more injuries. Carefully, he slipped in, and his feet hit the floor with a soft thud.

Looking around, he noticed the light coming from a window in the door that led to outside the room. He was in what looked to be an office. A simple chair was next to a desk, and along the wall were metal filing cabinets. The ground swayed under his feet, and his eyes struggled to focus. He needed to hurry. His hands found the handle to a cabinet on the desk. His vision blurred as everything grew more and more unfocused. Hurriedly, he opened it, nothing but papers. He looked in the other one, but nothing. He opened a drawer on the top, finally finding a first aid kit. Quickly, he grabbed it and desperately started wrapping his wound. While his vision blurred, he had great difficulty being able to stand. His legs faltered, and his eyes shut as his world went black.

______________________________________________________________

A/N: Thank you for reading! I have never written a fanfiction but I have faith in my writing abilities. I'm very excited to share this story and especially the romance. Be prepared for more to come!

See you in the next one! - Phrog

[freedomarrow]

Lughnasadh [awakening drabble]

   “This is Lughnasadh. It’s been stored away in the vaults of Daein, waiting for someone worthy enough.”

   And that someone is supposed to be him?

   Fingers run across the bowstring. A thousand times now used, perhaps, and still yet to ever snap or even show any sign of damage. Resilient, that one. Strained to its limits more than once, but going strong nevertheless, ready to protect that which must be cherished.

   This, at least, the two of them have in common. He too, after all, has pushed himself many times beyond what he considered physically possible. Can he tell he escaped it all unscathed? No, not at all; unconsciously, his right hand runs across his left shoulder, the soft fabric of his Academy uniform all that conceals from the world four wide scars running across his back. A little token of remembrance from a Tiger laguz who knew how to render an archer defenseless - had it not been for the timely intervention by Nolan, he would have paid the ultimate price for letting himself get caught;

   — and a harsh reminder of the Daein of yesterday, that they must now strive to leave behind if they are to make things right. A Daein of hatred - hatred that he once fought in the name of. The deep wounds were healed by Micaiah and Laura’s joint effort, their skill irreplaceable and impeccable as always; and yet, administered too late to prevent these scars from being left behind. Which Leonardo, in all honesty, does not mind. It almost feels fitting to have these, perhaps consider them a punishment of sorts for what once was, a symbol of what must not be allowed to happen again.

   He remembers vividly, how he willingly offered his arm to the claws in order to shield his precious bow. After all, Lughnasadh is far more important than him. If his weapon is lost, he is worthless in battle; if he falls, Lughnasadh can still be given for someone else to wield. (And that someone else would probably do a better job.)

   (How many times now has Edward berated him for this way of thinking? And yet, he cannot help but see himself as inadequate. That he was there, that he received Lughnasadh, was nothing more than a coincidence; surely there was a more suitable candidate available—)

   ... a hiss passes through clenched teeth, of surprise more than pain when, as though to penalize his hesitation and absentmindedness, his finger gets caught on the bowstring, suffering a small cut. Fantastic.

   “Sorry,” he mutters, only then realizing he had done so out loud. Sighing quietly, he gets up from his bed and walks over to his desk; producing a clean cloth and some water, he applies them onto the cut to keep it clean and wait out the bleeding.

   Carelessness can cost him much more than a wound like this, and he knows that; so why does he continue to be like this?

   He ponders; what would his friends - his family - say if they saw him like this? Edward would, in his typical fashion, likely find it ridiculous and laugh it off, and eventually he would laugh as well... Nolan would - a quiet chuckle suddenly bubbles up in Leonardo’s throat when his imagination produces such a clean image of the back pat he would receive, that he can almost feel it. Sothe would probably shake his head and criticize his hesitation - that one does not stop himself from saying what others need to hear. Micaiah would smile and offer words of reassurance, not stopping until he believed her, or at least thought he did...

   Turning his head, he looks at Lughnasadh again, resting on his bed, waiting calmly for him to regain his bearings. His eyes follow the line of the bow’s golden trim, and he feels so silly he almost wants to laugh out loud; he does not, but a faint smile does creep its way onto his lips.

   Him wielding his bow is a coincidence indeed, and nothing more. But why treat it as a mistake, when he should instead see it as a chance? A chance to better himself - for his family, his friends, his country. A chance to protect those dear to him. A chance to let his miraculously spared life have some meaning.

   Once his finger has stopped bleeding, he picks up the bow again, marveling for the thousandth time at how well its shape and weigh feel in his hand. “I’m not worthy of you, not yet,” he says quietly, though his smile does not wane.

   “But I swear that I will never stop trying to be.”

[women-in-writing]

Supervillain Whump 1

Tags: supervillain whumpee, female whumpee, caught in an explosion, transformation, manhandling.

Jiya cursed the heroes of the city as she ran through the half-constructed building, her head low. The staccato chatter of rifle fire tore through sheetrock and insulation raining down fiberglass and thick white debris that filled her lungs. Over the din, she could only just make out the shooters demands for her compliance.

She'd seen what happened to the people that complied with the heroes.

Her escape route, an elevator shaft she secured her climbing rig to earlier, came into sight. Behind her she heard Jackboot's curse and then the tell-tale sound of his signature weapon being loaded.

Throwing herself forward, Jiya felt the barest whisper of the ropes familiar texture when a hollow 'whump' filled the air. There was a brief moment of pure silence before the grenade exploded.

Inescapable heat roared past Jiya as she was propelled down the shaft her stomach flipping as she tumbled through the air. She hit the bottom of with a mighty crash that seemed to shake the half-built structure to its foundations.

The world came back to her in a hazy fog of fire and ash. Her aching lungs took in a small, timid breath of air, the sound soft and wet. She choked and her body seized as she was wracked by coughs. Pulling the mask from her face, she flipped onto her stomach and retched, bile, dust and debris pooling in a puddle below her. Jiya spat and wiped at her lips with a cracked gauntlet, wishing she had water to wash the vile taste from her mouth with. Still spitting and coughing, she pushed herself to her knees, and began to crawl on all-fours; staying under the cloying smoke, she tried to gather her thoughts.

If they caught her, she would die. Captain Commando had told her as much last time she saw him in that dive bar outside town. That was three years ago and she doubted the soldier had forgotten. Glass shards and splinters cut into her hands as she crawled, the thin gloves she wore doing little to protect her.

She was almost outside, could see the sunlight piercing through a thick cloud of smoke when a thick-soled boot settled into the middle of her back. The foot pressed down hard, earning a strangled gasp from the injured woman.

"Still alive criminal?" A harsh voice, distorted by the gas-mask that all US special forces wore barked.

Dread and fear sank in Jiya's gut and she felt all the blood drain from her face. She desperately began to scramble at the ground, her gloves tearing as she tried to pull herself away from the fearsome soldier above her.

"You're caught now, give up and we might be persuaded to treat you right." he broke off in a dark chuckle as he bent over and grabbed a handful of her hair in his fist and pulled her up. The fire crackled around them as he held her, expression unreadable beneath his mask.

"Well now," and Jiya hated that she could picture his smug smirk in her mind's eye. "I thought I told you what would happen to you if we caught you again, didn't I?" His voice grew a tad sadistic as he tightened his hand in her hair. "Didn't I?" He roared.

Jiya grimaced through the pain, gritting her teeth at the way her scalp burned. There was one chance she had, it was slim, but it was her only choice.

"Well, I'm sure the others will be happy to see you-"

Under his grasp, Jiya began to shift, rapidly, her powers much stronger than last time she'd been accosted by the hero in front of her. She threw her head as far back as she could and screamed as her body twisted and contorted. Mandibles burst from behind her jaw and her eyes changed to a compound array of green and blue. Captain Commando cursed and let go of her hair, fumbling to bring up his pistol.

With a screech, Jiya reared back and spat a glob of acid at his mask. He screamed, his gloved hands tearing at the heavy helmet. The acid wouldn't hurt him, it would hardly damage the helmet, but it was enough for her to launch herself further down the building and into the basement.

Quickly finding the access to the sewer main, Jiya clambered inside and pulled the hatch shut behind her. Blessed silence filled the air as she sank to the ground. Pain ran through her insectoid body, even though she could shift pretty much at will by now, the toll the transformation took on her body was brutal.

She sat there a few more moments, just catching her breath, before she pushes herself back up. Legs still shaking, she removed the back plate of her light exo-armor and uncurled her wings she usually kept wrapped around her torso. Head pounding, she hovered for only a second before flying down the sewers, heading for home.

[laxyaklovesloz]

The Legend of Zelda: Real Courage | Chapter One: The Trial

[I caved and got a Tumblr. Also available at: https://linktr.ee/laxyaklovesloz]

“Gear up! Shadow Chieftess Ganondra will be watching your practice today!”

Lila sat up in bed a hair slower than the other women in the barracks. She had never been fond of waking up. It was just one of the many differences that kept her apart from the others. They were all strong, native Gerudo. She was the weak, adopted Hylian. She was smaller than them, too. Even though she was almost fully grown, she was shorter than the average Gerudo woman.

Still, the average Gerudo woman wasn’t anything compared to Shadow Chieftess Ganondra, who was sometimes called the Dragon of the Desert. With the help of the Triforce of Power, Lady Ganondra had grown far stronger than any other person in the tribe. She was a fierce leader who wasn’t afraid of getting her hands dirty to make sure things were done her way. Things were always done her way.

Today, her way was to watch the practice of young warriors. Lila couldn’t help but wonder if the reason had anything to do with herself. Sure, Lila wasn’t a Gerudo woman, but Lady Ganondra treated her as something more. She always pushed Lila to be the best in her class. Lila even had extra fighting lessons while the others learned about subjects such as wooing men and how to make a profitable trade. She learned how to be a spy, how to use various weapons, and even had solo wilderness training. The special treatment was another thing that separated her from her classmates.

Lila could hear the others whispering the same thoughts as they all hurried to put on their gear. Once everyone had dressed, they lined up at the foot of their beds for inspection. The leader, Dalni, scrutinized every little detail, making sure they were all presentable for the Chieftess. They could expect punishment if something was wrong. Running laps for a missing button. Cleaning the bathrooms if they weren’t fully dressed on time. Today, Lila expected Dalni to be extra strict, but no one got called out for anything. Maybe everyone else wanted to look their best for the Dragon of the Desert.

The twelve trainees, Lila included, filed out of their barracks room and to the training ground. On the way, Dalni gave them instructions. They paired off and grabbed their weapons once reaching the training ground. Today, they worked with swords and shields. This was unusual for the Gerudo–spears and scimitars were more common–but Lila was glad for the change. Swords were her best weapon. She and her partner were the first to start practicing the forms.

As usual, time slipped away from Lila’s awareness. All she knew was the blade and her shield. Her heart pulsed in time with her footwork. Lila moved through the forms faster and faster, pushing her partner to the edge of her ability. Knowing what would happen if they fell out of synch, Lila slowed her pace to match her partner’s. It pained her to have to slow down, but it was worth not getting in trouble.

Eventually, they switched to actual combat. Finally, Lila could let loose. Her partner didn’t stand a chance, and she knew it. Lila was a blur of steel. She expertly blocked her opponent’s attacks and quickly parried them with her own. It only took her a few steps to knock her partner to the ground. Each time, her partner became wilder. Lila kept her cool, gaining victory after victory.

She had no idea how much time had passed when Dalni called for a stop. The twelve trainees lined up to face her, panting with the effort of practice.

“Excellent work,” Dalni lauded. “It’s time for lunch. Dismissed.”

The women broke formation and put their weapons away, ready for a hearty meal. Lila swung her sword around a little more, lingering behind. Now that it was break time, she could feel her muscles straining, and she was breathing just as heavily as everyone else. She avoided eye contact with her partner, who was fuming at being stuck with the prodigy. Lila wished she could eat alone, but Dalni didn’t want any of them to leave her sight during breaks. Except to use the bathroom, of course. No, Lila would have to eat at the same table as the rest of her training mates, as always.

“Did you see her?” said someone at the table. At first, Lila thought Trifni was talking about her, but then Sala replied.

“Yes! Can you believe Lady Ganondra herself was actually watching us?”

Lila got her food and sat at the edge of the table. She hadn’t noticed Lady Ganondra watching, or anyone else for that matter.

“She’s so amazing,” Urwa crooned.

“She’s terrifying!” Feli countered.

“That too,” Urwa said, and everyone laughed, except Lila.

Lila was content to be ignored like any other day, but Trifni asked, “Lila, she was watching you the most.”

Lila let that information sink in. The room had gone silent. Everyone was looking at her. She sighed and said, “What do you expect? I’m like her pet. Of course, she was watching me.”

The others nodded and went back to eating. They left her out of the conversation after that.

Lila sighed to herself again as she at her food. She wasn’t a person. She was a pet, and the others agreed. It really didn’t surprise her that Lady Ganondra was watching her. It was what she anticipated, after all. Maybe that’s why they practiced with swords today. She finished her food quickly and tried to prepare herself for what might happen next.

Someone came in and whispered something to Dalni and then left. After everyone finished eating, Dalni addressed them again.

“Lila, a special challenge awaits you,” she said unexpectedly. Everyone swiveled to look at Lila. Dalni continued, “The rest of you will watch from the upper level.”

The room broke into excited whispers.

“That’s where Lady Ganondra was!”

“What kind of challenge?”

“Why does Lila always get special treatment?”

No one spoke to Lila. She stood by herself by the door. After a moment, the whispers got to be too much for her, and she headed out to the training ground. She grabbed a sword and shield and waited, looking up at the upper level. At first, no one was there. Then her comrades filed in to watch what would happen. They still spoke excitedly to one another. Dalni wasn’t with them.

Lila waited for a few minutes, growing impatient. She swung her sword around to help ease the wriggling in her stomach. What was going on? Was she there just to be mocked? Then Lady Ganondra herself appeared on the upper level, a servant close to her side. Lady Ganondra had one other companion with her: a black ball with leathery wings and one yellow eye, known as a keese. Lila’s training mates hushed each other and watched with awe. Likely, they had never been so close to the Shadow Chieftess.

Lady Ganondra glared at the shushing girls across from her, then turned her gaze upon Lila. Lila felt a shiver run through her whole body. Most of her extra training had been supervised by Lady Ganondra’s servant, Nabooru. Lila had never actually been near Lady Ganondra. Now, they were staring eye to eye, and Lila sensed something… well, cold about the Shadow Chieftess. Lila couldn’t help but clench her teeth and gulp. She quickly turned her eyes away and found herself staring at the ground. In fear.

This was the power of the Dragon of the Desert.

Finally, Dalni appeared and approached Lila.

“Are you ready?” Dalni asked, looking nervous for once.

“For what?” Lila questioned.

“You are to fight… Gohma.”

Lila’s mouth dropped. “You mean the giant spider that wanders the desert?”

Dalni nodded. She turned and waved at some unknown persons, and then left to join the other trainees. From the desert, a group of Gerudo women led a large creature toward the training ground. The creature had six sturdy legs, two pincers, and one giant eye. Four horns crowned its body. Lila had heard tales of this creature while growing up. It was said that girls who didn’t obey would be left to the mercy of Gohma. Now Lila had to fight it? She could see the women struggling to keep the creature under control. How was she supposed to fight that thing by herself when several Gerudo women were needed to lead it?

Eventually, the women got Gohma into the training arena and set it free. They took up positions around the arena to keep it from escaping. They used their spears to guide its attention to Lila.

Lila gulped again. “Okay,” she said to herself, “I guess I’m doing this.” She twirled the sword around her hand one more time and raised her shield. Then she yelled, “Attack me, you great beast!”

The creature heeded her words and sprang. Lila jumped to the side, somersaulted, and came up behind the creature, slashing her sword at its rounded back. It squealed in pain and turned around. Her sword didn’t seem to do much damage. She figured she would have to get in close and pierce the eye. That seemed to be the only weak point. But how could she get close enough without getting pinched by the pincers?

Experimentally, Lila waved her sword toward one of the legs. Gohma lifted that leg toward her. Lila quickly raised her shield. The leg came down with so much force that it made her shield quiver and she had to take a couple of steps back. Another leg slammed into her back knocking the air out of her. She fell forward onto the ground. Anticipating another strike, Lila rolled onto her back and kicked up, pushing herself to a standing position. She kept her shield raised and surveyed her situation.

Gohma didn’t give her much time. The creature revealed a new trick by blasting green fire. If Lila didn’t have her shield, she would have been roasted. She braced herself, waiting for the fire to abate. Surely, it couldn’t last forever. After a few seconds, the fire ended, and Lila came in swinging. Her quick move worked as she chopped off part of a leg. The creature howled and stood on its hind legs, the other legs writhing in pain. Lila immediately thrust her sword forward and pierced the belly, drawing a trickle of green ichor. She sliced down and spun out of the way as Gohma came back down. She narrowly avoided getting hit by a leg.

A bout of more flames burned Lila. She lifted her shield, fighting the pain and patting her side to put out the fire. She wondered if her trick would work a second time, cutting off another leg. Or maybe she should try aiming for the eye this time. After the barrage of flames ended, Lila thrust her sword toward the source of the fire, hoping to stab the eye. Her plan worked! Her sword penetrated deep, and the creature crumpled, screaming. Gohma shriveled and shrank, turning pure black. Then the blackness burst into particles and faded away.

A cheer rose from the surrounding onlookers. Lila had forgotten they were there. She was panting with effort and pain, and she was ready to put her sword away. The women who had brought Gohma to the arena swirled around her and raised her on their shoulders. She had never before received such joyous treatment. She held her sword and shield high as they bounced her around in triumph, and a smile broke across her face. Even her training mates were cheering, she saw. Then she remembered that Shadow Chieftess Ganondra had seen the whole thing.

The chieftess held the same expression as before the fight began. There was no evidence that anything spectacular had occurred. Her eyes met Lila’s for a brief moment, and then she turned around to leave, the keese close behind. Nabooru stole a quick glance at Lila before following. Was that worry on her face?

[herssian]

friend

[l-artemisia-del-secolo]

Can you do headcannons about Yelena x reader's relationship in general? Little stuff like love languages, dates, how she treats you, etc.

Love Language

Masterlist, Yelena Belova masterlist, latest fic, hit my inbox

When you met Yelena, for you it was all about butterflies in your stomach, for her it was a gut punch.

She knew nothing about real intimacy. Yes, she could imitate with the others, but you were different. She felt it, she knew it.

Yelena didn't want to scare you away, she was afraid to overwhelm you. But she tried to hide her need to punish herself, not allowing to be closer. She was groaning into her pillow, not knowing how to deal with her feelings.

But it didn't work. Yelena was drawn to you. She started stealing your attention, moments, when there were only two of you.

You noticed her accidental touches. Her thumb gently brushing your pulse point, when you were training. Making sure you were OK after a mission with a forehead touch.

Yelena tried to make you believe it was only friendship. But for both of you, being far from each other was becoming more and more painful.

You asked her out on a date. Those were awkward. Yelena was restrained. She was wearing a mask. She behaved the way others always expected to. Yelena didn't know what you expected.

Your hand found hers on the table. Yelena looked in your eyes and she couldn't control tears anymore. Your fingers were intertwined. Both of you were silent. You both were feeling something new running in your blood. Affection suddenly found it's way out.

"I've got you." You looked into her eyes.

She didn't answer, she didn't dare. You were her hope. You were her second chance.

You didn't push. You let her be herself. Gradually she became more relaxed. She herself was initiating closeness. She was holding your hand, kissing your eyes, caressing your back.

Once she even fell asleep on your lap. When she woke up from a nightmare, her first reaction was to run away.

"it's OK." You were whispering. "I will always protect you."

Soon you discovered burden of Yelena's past. Her obsession with not being tracked. The fact that she slept with the knife under her pillow. She always had some kind of weapon on her. Yelena trusted no one. Except for you.

"Maybe it's going to be easier if you just leave me." Her fists were shaking.

"No. I want to be with real you."

You never got tired of reminding her that she was worthy of love.

Yelena was praising you all the time. Always saying that you brought her back to life. You gave her the second chance.

"I'm blessed." She was whispering into her needy kisses.

Yelena needed all of your attention and devotion and in return she gave everything to you.

There were evenings when you didn't even talk. It was enough to be in the arms of each other. There were nights when you didn't sleep. You couldn't get enough of each other. There were days when you couldn't take your eyes off of each other. You were melting into one soul.

*another Yelena fic

[bangtangalicious]

death valley (m) | part 8

summary: welcome to death valley. once you’re in, there’s no telling whether you’ll make it out alive. a summer internship turns wild with blurry nights of dangerous men, dirty money, and extremely hot sex. you soon get caught in a savage game of greed, power and obsession, only to find out that you are the grand prize

pairing: ot7 x f.reader smut ft: jin x reader, jungkook x reader, taehyung x reader

genre: smut. yandere. mystery. thriller. gang!au rockstar!au fightclub!au

wordcount: 9.0k

warnings: reader discretion advised. rough sex, physical roughness, sadism kink, pain kink, breast play, fingering, elevator sex (semipublic), praise kink, dirty talk, unrealistic endurance (this is one day LMAO), attempted fire play, bondage, guns, attempted shootings, knife play if you squint, spanking, degradation (name calling, slut shaming, being really mean lolol thanks jin), crying kink? lot of crying, toxic and manipulative behaviors, jin steps on you so there’s that, character death, heavy drug use, paranoia/fear, voyeurism, sex while intoxicated, me trying to put some humor where i can, sweet dom!jungkook, wild dom!jin, and a sprinkle of dom!taehyung ;) ALSO eyebrowpiercing!jungkook. very important. 

a/n: s/o soowoozoo!bts for being my inspo. 

part 0 | part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11 | series navi | masterlist |

F L A S H F O R W A R D--

Goosebumps spread across your skin as the silence set in. The room was chilly, air conditioner buzzing in contrast to the slick humidity of the summer night waiting for you outside. The white light made your eyes ache, the walls were plain, dry, empty.

You stared blankly at the table in front of you. The sound of the pen scratching paper made you ache, remembering kinder days when you and Hobi would be goofing around and writing songs. How did you get here? How did you let this happen?

The previous night, you had dreamt of being at a concert, somewhere far from Death Valley. Losing yourself to music and molly, a soft pair of hands on your hips as you danced the night away, singing at the top of your lungs. Those same hands wrapping around your waist, nose tracing behind your ear to whisper to you how pretty you were. How hot you looked and how badly he wanted to tear your clothes off with his teeth. 

You allowing him to pick you up so easily, take you back to his car where you scrambled into the back seat. Like children. The first kiss was magic, you were glued to him and could barely move on. He wouldn’t leave you for a second, he wouldn’t let you breathe. Your lips were hot on each other, soft moans and giggles. Swallowed smiles as you drank one another in, bodies like waves crashing against each other.

Hands wandering until he had you where he wanted. Where you wanted. He loved you down so incredibly good. How he was able to tear you apart while still being so sweet, you could barely even fathom. His teeth dug into the flesh of your breasts, fingers hooking around your panties. 

His tongue ravished your figure. There was no part of you left untouched, no part of you that wasn’t completely ablaze with arousal. You would arch your neck back as he lapped away at the sweetness dripping between your legs, your hands combing through his wavy black hair.

His tongue knew where to go, he knew how you liked it, and your fist clenched as he fucked you with his mouth through and through. He always made sure you came first. Always. Every single time.

Whether you had mere minutes or long hours, he loved the way you tasted, making sure you knew that at every chance he got. Sloppy wet kisses traveled up your stomach to your chest, up your neck, hands caressing your ass, scratching your back, holding you close for a moment. 

You were whisked away into heaven, just briefly, as his thick cock would push into you. Your pussy pulling him in, wanting to feel the familiar but oh so incredible stretch that only he gave you. 

Taehyung. You sobbed as he fucked you, allowing him to kiss the glossy tears off of your cheeks as he rolled his hips, angling so perfectly to nudge deep within you. His sinister grin, his giggles, his chaos. You were in the hands of disaster but you never felt more safe. 

Why are you crying dumbass? He would find your state amusing, continuing to fuck you, thrusts long and smooth. Quick, but slow enough for you to savor each second. Your whining lost behind the wet sound of your bodies colliding.

Where are you? Are you watching this right now? You’re not really dead are you?

Stroking your cheek, he leaned down to whisper against your mouth. The words he would keep on saying, echoing back to you. Play along. I won’t hurt you.

What exactly you were playing, you were unsure. 

“Look at me” Your eyes darted up to meet Jin’s deceivingly innocent eyes. “I’m gonna ask you again, did you kill Kim Taehyung?” 

You gulped, sweat collecting onto the cold handcuffs around your wrists. Jin glanced at the mirrored wall, before letting out a heavy sigh. 

“It appears that Kim Taehyung was murdered about two hours before the party. We found your gun near the body.” Jin holds up the custom weapon Yoongi had given that was unmistakably yours. “Where were you at that time?” You felt your eyes getting heavy.

“I was” You lips were chapped, mouth clammy with a bitter taste. You looked him dead in the eye, stomach sickened by the amusement glistening within them as you struggled with your response. You knew he was getting a kick out of it. You wanted to spit on his face. You wanted to slap him, to scream, to flip the table and break out of the windowless room that caged you.

“I was with...y..” Jin smirked, leaning back. You cleared your throat, mind running a mile a minute.

“With who Y/n?”

You glared at him. He was treating this as some sort of role play. You felt queasy at the thought. Someone was dead. Dead. 

“You. I was with you”

F L A S H B A C K--

The morning rays slid through the expansive glass wall of the hotel room, causing Yoongi’s eyes to flinch, squinting as they opened and took in the day that presented itself. He sighed heavily, the weight of the previous night still on his mind. You were still asleep, but he could see through the chaffing beneath your wrists that you were not comfortable. He took the leash and fastened it to the headboard, ensuring you had no escape. 

Grabbing his keys, Yoongi quickly got dressed in a white hoodie and left the room. He needed to find out the truth for himself. He couldn’t afford to have you lying to him already. 

It was so frustrating to him that you couldn’t just be honest with him. He had been immensely open with you even if he was not proud of what he had to share. Why would you hide things? Hadn’t he proven himself to you? Hadn’t he done everything to win your heart?

Yoongi sighed. His anger issues were core to his being. It was part of his true self, but he had spent years trying to become someone you would fall in love with. All he wanted to do was make home in your heart, but no matter how many of your suitors he ended up threatening, beating to a pulp, and forcing them to bail on you, there was nothing in his power that could tear down that goddamn Park Jimin poster on your bedroom wall.

There was nothing he could do to stop you from writing small fantasies in your journal that you kept stashed in your bedside drawer. 

Yoongi would be lying if he said he didn’t come close to killing Jimin multiple times before. But he realized that would not have delivered him a solution. If Jimin died, you would mourn. You would still harbor that love for him and never have an opportunity to see what he really was. It was because of this Yoongi, with Taehyung’s helpful insight, had orchestrated a way to destroy Jimin in your eyes. 

Jimin was then introduced to Yoongi’s two weapons of destruction, Taehyung and cocaine. Yoongi worked hard to build himself up as a successful music producer. He had to be better than Jimin, had to make sure he could offer you everything Jimin could and more. 

To his surprise, you did move on from Jimin, at least the reality of him. But this fantasy of who he used to be remained pinned to your heart. After Jimin quit music, the mention of his name would still cause you to blush and smile. It made Yoongi want to throw up.

You had to see for yourself. Yoongi learned what it was that attracted you to Jimin and embodied just that. You liked that you had to chase him, you liked that he didn’t give a shit about you. You liked that he never noticed you and you had to pine for his attention. You liked that he was dedicated to his music, you liked the lifestyle he was associated with. You liked his lack of emotion and fantasized of him showing his true colors to you and only you, a sensitive, sweet, charming guy. Anger was not a part of this persona at all. 

When he felt like he had driven Jimin crazy enough with the drugs, he decided to plant rumors on stan twitter that Jimin would be signing with his label. Using his personal relationship with the singer, he was able to sign him on. He conveniently then offered you a summer internship, knowing full well you would be coming for one reason alone. Park Jimin.

Yoongi wanted you to fall straight into his arms. He rented out every available apartment for the months you were searching for a place to live, forcing you to reside in his building. He wanted to win you over naturally. He wanted you to work with Jimin, hook up with Jimin, and end up loathing him. Loving Yoongi instead. 

Jimin’s gang activity was getting on Yoongi’s nerves. Taehyung told him Jimin was in Death Valley, that you saw Jimin at Death Valley. When Yoongi heard from you, not Taehyung, that you had been kidnapped, along with Namjoon nonetheless, Yoongi had enough. He was used to giving Taehyung plenty of unsupervised jurisdiction, so Jimin’s accident was not a surprise to him. 

But you sympathized with Jimin, which was not what he wanted. He then decided to take things into his own hands, threatening Seokjin into throwing the fight to leech Jimin of every cent he had. He broke into your apartment, fucking everything up so that you had no choice but to come to him. To need him. 

And when Jin didn’t lose, he had no choice but to reveal to you who he was. Even after all his honestly, all his trust, you still lied to him. 

Yoongi was furious. He arrived at Death Valley, using the front entrance. Pulling a mask over his face, he barged in, surveying the silence as a sign that the bar was empty. Through the kitchen he arrive at the back storage room, accessible only by key, where all of the surveillance had been set up years ago. 

Monitors were spread across the wall, but Yoongi’s eyes narrowed in at one that was coming up with no feed. Your apartment. Someone had fucked with the cameras. Yoongi types away at the main monitor, enlarging your apartment footage and reeling back to find the moment the device was destroyed.

He sees Taehyung, whispering something to you. Next thing he knows the stream is blank. He grits his teeth, as all the pieces fall into place. He was a fool. How could he have been so blind? Taehyung must be in love with you. He must have, after watching you for so many years. Yoongi scowled at the thought of the ways Taehyung may have seen you, naked, vulnerable, ways that only he should. 

He had trusted Taehyung. Taehyung had only ever shown interest in money and Yoongi thought that was enough. Taehyung must have fucked you over and over again once the cameras were dead. What a whore. It made sense then that he had cut the line through his branding on you. He was the only one who could have. He had access to you and he was psychotic! He must have forced you to lie. You wouldn’t ever hide anything from Yoongi, no, Yoongi was the man of your dreams. You felt grateful that you had him, didn’t you?

He tilted his head, cracking his knuckles before he punched the glass screen, causing the feed to go haywire and sparks to erupt. Kim Taehyung. You are dead to me.

Yoongi growled lowly before picking up his phone. “It’s me. I need to see you. Now” 

-

Hobi kept his hand on the small of your back as he led you down to the hotel bar. The two of you nodded politely at the staff members who were busily preparing for the big event. The bar was empty aside for a few guests enjoying their brunch-time mimosas.

Hobi couldn’t really revel in the fact that the two of you were getting drinks together, almost like a date. His mind was too caught up in the initial shock he felt when he saw you tied up in his boss’ bedroom. He felt upset, but moreso he felt violated. He wondered if you were getting taken advantage of. Did he promise you a promotion? Was he manipulating you?

Punishing someone like that, Hobi was never one to kink shame, but it seemed a bit much. The name burned into your skin did nothing to ease his concern. Someone who was possessive, violent, impulsive. It reminded him of...

Hobi didn’t know. He didn’t know who gave him orders. He really didn’t care once the cash rolled in, but it began hitting too close to home. He wasn’t thrilled about hurting Namjoon, but two duffel bags of cash were enough for him to momentarily set aside his morals. 

“What should I get?” You surveyed the small menu of cocktails. “What’s gonna fuck me up the fastest?”

Hobi snorted, “Tequila” He twirled your hair as your gaze remained glued to the menu. The thought of you being in danger upset him greatly “Y/n...when did Yoongi brand you?" You called the bartender ordering a line of shots to which the they glanced at the clock before giving you a weird look.

“The night of the rematch” You told him, reacting before you realized what you had said. Your lip tucked between your teeth as you tried to conjure an excuse. A row of shot glasses was placed in front of you. You took one, gulping it down before letting out a heavy sigh. The bitterness burned down your throat. You basked as the liquid hit your mind, easing you slightly.

“Yoongi was at the fight?” Hobi recalled the wild night that the three of you had been at Death Valley. It was the first time he ever saw the man giving him orders. The man was tall, broad, had dark hair and wore dark clothes, face covered in a mask. Could it have been...Yoongi?

“Y/n!” The two of you turned to see Jungkook approaching the bar. He had changed his hair, the blue swapped for a short black cut, and you couldn’t help but double take at his new eyebrow piercing. 

You downed another shot, glancing at Hobi who had raised his eyebrows seeing the drug dealer. Jungkook gave you a light hug, waving timidly to Hobi. You smirked, another shot down the hatch. “Easyyyy Y/n” He placed a hand on your back as he slid into the seat next to you.

“The fuck are you doing here?” Hobi sneered. Jungkook rolled his eyes, used to the condescending treatment of gang members. "Didn’t you get stabbed or something?”

“I did!” Jungkook grinned, “In fact, that’s exactly why I’m here. I think I figured out who Mr. Bossman is, and I wanna fucking kill him”

Hobi rolled his eyes, “Oh really”

“Kim Seok-motherfucking-Jin baby. He stabbed me. He’s the one who showed up and threatened me to move out of Y/n’s apartment, so he’s probably also the one who called for the kidnapping. And he might have called for Jimin’s accident. It makes so much fucking sense”

Jin did what? There was not enough alcohol in your veins to act like you didn’t fully understand what he had just said. Jin had Jungkook move out? It wasn’t impossible. And that’s what scared you. You blinked at Jungkook incredulously, “But he’s literally a police officer”

Jungkook’s grin widened, “Exactly! It’s fucking brilliant. He’s a cop, he fights for the other side. He wins no matter what and can never get caught. No one would ever suspect him. Winning despite being threatened? Who threatened him huh? It’s a fucking ploy. You’re not dead and neither is he I bet. Kingpin. Boom”

You felt sick, knowing that Yoongi was not the only person you needed to be worried about. It was almost funny how blatantly misinformed Jungkook was. “Wow you guys are idiots.” You muttered under your breath, taking another shot before coughing roughly. Should I tell them? Why did Jin lie? Is this even the truth? Jin always tried to pin things on Jungkook, but you defended him. Hearing his words now made your head spin. He’s lying. Jungkook is lying. You wanted to scream, frustration flooding through your veins as you clenched your fists.

“I’m gonna tell Jimin and Taehyung what I know. They will give me so much money dude.” Jungkook chuckled, “And then they’d kill him, oh God finally”

Hobi pursed his lips, mouth feeling dry as he reflected on Jin’s eerie words before he shot him in the leg. He didn’t know where Jin was anymore, handing him off to be taken somewhere. It didn’t make sense. His orders were to seize Jin if Jin won the fight. Why place an order like that all? Why do any of this?

“Y/n, come with me.” Jungkook tugged at the sleeve of the oversized Nirvana shirt you had thrown on after your shower session with Hobi. You giggled, the thought of Taehyung coming into your slowed thoughts like a hurricane, tearing up any understanding you thought you had of the situation. There was only one thing you believed. Only one thing you knew with full certainty and it was all you could hold onto.

“Oh my goodness it’s Yoongi. It’s Yoongi. It’s always been Yoongi” The words spilled from your lips like the tequila that dripped down the side of your lips as you took yet another shot, giggling like a ditz. Jungkook and Hobi exchanged confused looks with each other, only making you laugh more. “I would fucking know okay!” Your laughs grew loud, “I was locked up in his fucking apartment and where the hell were all of you huh? Dumb fucking idiots!” You buckled over, laughing into Jungkook’s chest.

“Jungkook” Hobi sighed, “I gotta get back to work. Can you get her sober please?” Jungkook nodded. He held your waist tightly helping you stand, walking with you carefully to the hotel elevator.

The laughter wouldn’t stop. Passerbys shot the two of you dirty looks as Jungkook pulled you into the elevator easily. Through it’s glass walls you could see the midday skyline, where outside people hustled through life as if everything were normal. Must be fucking nice. “Y/n” Your laughs began to choke in your throat, turning instead to the sobs you tried to suppress with whatever will you had left. 

Jungkook placed his soft lips on your shoulder. Hands sliding onto your waist as he peered at you curiously, “Y/n, is everything okay?”

You shook your head, the elevator door closed as tears began forming in your eyes. Your voice croaked, “I’m dead. He’s gonna kill me. T..taehyung is gonna kill me. I...I know he will. He’s everywhere. Everywhere.” You looked around frantically, suddenly feeling hyperaware of the security cameras littered throughout the public space. “I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone...I” You hiccuped. Jungkook pulled you into a tight hug.

“It’s okay ssh” He stroked his thumbs them across your cheeks, cupping your face affectionately. “I’m here aren’t I?” You sniffled, nodding lightly. “I got you okay. No one is gonna hurt you”

You stared into his kind brown eyes. You did not trust him, your entire body was screaming at you not to trust him. His fingers danced down your figure, freely gliding over your heaving chest, desperately trying to breathe with the fear that choked you from within.

You blinked at him, eyes glancing down at his pouty lips before finding his eyes again. “Y/n” Jungkook whispered, barely inches from your lips. “I won’t let anyone hurt you okay. I promise”

Fat tears rolled down your face at his words. Jungkook clicked his tongue, cooing at you as he continued to wipe away your hears. “Oh you poor thing” He held you to his chest, kissing the top of your head, before tilting your face up to his. 

He leaned in, eyes fluttering shut as his lips landed on yours, swallowing you into him. The taste of tequila was evident on your lips as he kissed you softly, and you allowed yourself to surrender to his warm touch.

You felt heat pooling in your chest as his fingers trailed up your legs. He traced circles into the inside of your thighs, letting his fingers tease the edge of your shorts. 

“Jungkook” You inhaled sharply, his hot breath tickling your neck as you tilted your head back. He licked his lips before sloppily latching onto your collarbone, sucking down to litter your skin with wet kisses as his fingers slid down your shorts, just barely so that he could roll his hips into you.

He pushed you back against the glass, fingers trailing across your bare thighs before sliding beneath your panties. Jungkook ran a finger over your clothed folds, making you clench down. 

“Y/n” His voice sounded equally as desperate as yours, barely audible over the sound of his heavy breathing. “Fuck I missed you” You gasped as his fingers slid under the fabric. He pushed a finger in, allowing your tight cunt to accustom to it before adding another finger not long after. 

His other hand slid beneath your shirt, pushing your bra up so he could run his thumb over your nipples, his touch featherlight, leaving you breathless. You rolled your eyes back in pleasure, bucking your hips up as he slowly pumped you with his fingers.

“That’s it baby, just like that” He whispered, lips pressing into your neck. You let out a shaky moan as his fingers quickened, pumping in and out of you as you latched onto his shoulders. “Look at me. Look right at me baby”

He brought his lips over yours, just brushing them across your skin so he could gaze deep into your eyes as you fucked yourself onto his fingers. You cried out his name as the friction began to overwhelm you. His fingers easing you right where you needed them, pleasure searing through you as he watched your every move.

"So good for me” He pulled his fingers out, doused in your sticky arousal before he placed them into his own mouth. Your eyes widen as he licked of every last bit of you and smiles. “You taste so fucking good baby”

He kisses you again, harsher this time as his hips roll against you. Your fingers grip his hair as he pulls down his sweats, allowing his cock to spring out. 

“You want my cock?” He ran his tongue over your lips, tugging at them slightly as he stroked his cock. You could feel his hand moving between your legs. “You want my big cock in your little pussy?”

You gulped, nodding as Jungkook looked down, lining his tip against your folds, pushing in only slightly before meeting your eyes again. “So warm and wet for me, fuck” He pushed in further, groaning as you spread your thighs wider, allowing him to thrust as deep as he could. He stilled briefly, kissing you again “You take me so well baby fuck. So fucking tight for me. My pretty baby” He stroked your face, thumb pushing into your mouth slightly.

“Does it feel good?” He mumbled, pulling out just slightly before rolling his hips back into you. He picked up a rhythm, fucking you deep and slow, hands clawing at your breasts.

“Yeah...feels really good” Your eyes fell shut, enjoying the fulfilling pleasure of his movements. He pulled your shirt up, burying his face between your breasts as he continued to fuck up into you. 

“Mmm yeah I bet” He pushed your bra up, allowing his fingers to pinch you nipples. He took one into his mouth, wrapping his tongue around the small bud as he began to suckle you, looking up to your face and enjoying your reactions. “You’re so fucking pretty you know that right?” He sucked on your breast harshly before leaving it with a soft kiss and moving onto the other. “So perfect for me”

His thrusts quickened, driving you up the wall as his hands fell to your hips. You burying your face in the crook of his neck as you felt your high approaching. “Jungkook...I’m...”

“Yeah?” Jungkook’s voice was raspy with lust, “You wanna cum baby? Cum for me baby, cum all over my cock, wanna hear you make those pretty little moans when you cum”

You cried out with every thrust as he pushed you over the edge, and you felt your pussy burst with pleasure as you came, the sloppy sounds of your arousal echoing through the small space. Jungkook groaned as the hot liquid covered his cock, allowing him to slide in and out of you with ease. 

“There you go. Good girl. Good fucking girl, just like that” He gasped, feeling his cock twitch slightly, buried deep in your cunt, “Want me to cum inside you baby?” You nodded, whining slightly, “Yeah? You want it baby? Huh?” Jungkook’s hips thrust furiously at you, and he cupped your face, bringing his forehead against yours so he could look into your eyes as he came. “Want my cum? Want me to fill you up baby?”

“Yeah. I want it. Jungkook please,” Your whiny voice was enough to have him spurting through you.

“Holy fuck” Jungkook buckled over, holding you tight as cum shot out of him, filling you up and leaking out onto the floor.

He pulled out of you quickly, pulling up his sweats while you fixed your own clothes. Sweat painted his forehead as he looked at you, panting with a big smile on his cute face.

“I missed that” He confessed, pulling you back into him by the waist. He knelt down and pressed his lips on yours, letting his hands slide to your ass and squeeze them softly. 

You heard a familiar ring as the elevator door reached it’s destination. You jumped away from Jungkook, unable to get far as the strong boy’s hold on you remained steady. 

"I see stabbing you once didn’t really drive home the message huh Mr. Jeon Jungkook” 

You felt goosebumps spread as you heard the sinister tone of Jin’s voice. He stood leaning against the elevator as if he had been waiting for you, twirling his knife around aimlessly between his fingers. “Too bad, I unfortunately can’t kill you yet” He turned to you and winked, “Both of you come with me”

-

Sweat trickled down from Namjoon’s neck, his eyes glued to the tattered punching bag in front of him. His muscles were still sore, bruises still spattered across his bare chest. He didn’t care. He was sick of feeling helpless. Under the dim lights of the boxing gym, he pushed himself, another hit, more force, ignoring the pain shooting through his limbs with every strike.

“Don’t overdo it” Namjoon rolled his eyes at the sound of the familiar voice. “Last thing you want is to get injured again” He turned to the sound of loafers echoing across the concrete floor.

“What do you want Yoongi?” Namjoon sneered. The producer smirked slightly, patting the punching bag playfully before pacing around Namjoon.

“I’m gonna kill Taehyung, and I know Jimin is gonna break hell. I need you to protect Y/n for me. Can I trust you, Namjoon?” His voice was stern.

“Man, fuck you Yoongi” Namjoon groaned, “I put my life on the line for you constantly and you still have to fucking ask? Promise me. I want out after this. Promise me a record deal”

Yoongi shrugged, “Okay fine. I’ll sign you. Don’t let her out of your sight.” Yoongi inhaled sharply, “And I swear to God Namjoon if you even think about touching her, you’re dead to me. And I will know if you do.”

Namjoon rolled his eyes, lips parted, desperately trying to catch his breath. “Yeah okay. Just get me my fucking record deal”

Yoongi pursed his lips, pulling out his phone and handing it to Namjoon. “Paperwork is ready. You have one job. Don’t fuck up again” Namjoon clenched his fist as Yoongi chuckled in amusement. “I have some business I need to deal with personally. Keep her safe Namjoon, please”

-

You gagged, a puke-ish feeling clogging your throat as you coughed out. Your head was throbbing with pain as you squinted against the gleaming lights from the chandelier above your head. Glancing around, you realized you were back at Jungkook’s place, large dark wooden floors adding to the ambiance that just screamed rich in your face. The plushness of his large bed evident beneath you. 

You get up slightly, peering across the room where you see Jin handing a large duffel bag to Jungkook, whispering something into his ear. Jungkook nods eagerly, shaking Jin’s hand before exiting. He turns back to you, smiling as he realizes you are awake.

“Hey party girl. Recovered from our little day drinking session have we?” Jin chuckled. You scowl, searching around you as your throat desperately demanded water. Jin handed you a glass. “I just got Jungkook caught up, but you and I need to have a little talk” 

You exhaled before emptying the entire glass down your throat. “I know everything” You scoffed in spite, “I know everything you did, you fucking maniac”

Jin smiled wide at the term, “I know. Jungkook told me you think I was behind all of the stuff that’s been going on, stabbing him and kidnapping you. I mean,” Jin laughed, a tinge of condescendence in his voice, “You don’t actually believe that do you? Like, seriously how dumb are these guys. At least you’re smart”

You frowned at his tone, unsure of how to respond. Jin raised his eyebrows at your silence before continuing, “Oh come on Y/n. Use that little brain of yours hm? What the hell would I be gaining from all this? It was Taehyung.”

He extended you a hand, helping you out of the bed and pulling you up to stand before him, “What did he tell you huh? That he’s Yoongi’s friend or some shit? Taehyung doesn’t give a fuck about Yoongi. And I know you know about him screwing over Jimin. He’s trying to take over both gangs, not just Jimin’s, and he’s been lying to you this whole time.”

The bargaining chip. “What do you mean?” You followed the flat echoes of his footsteps down the hallway into the same office that you had Jimin tied up only a few days ago. You suppressed a smile as you noticed the curtains were still torn.

“He’s distracting Jimin and Yoongi with you. He wants them to get up against each other so that he can sway the gang loyalties towards him by showing that their leaders priorities are off. Look here” Jin motioned towards a laptop on the large desk, playing security footage of what appeared to be Death Valley’s parking lot, where people were loading bags of cash into what could have been Taehyung’s car. “He’s robbing them. And you know what else Y/n? When he’s done with all of this, he’s gonna kill them both.” 

No. No way. Betrayal stung you as you process Jin’s words, “You’re just a pawn in his game. You were bait. He just needed to you get Jimin and Yoongi to fight amongst each other. And you let him, didn’t you?” Jin chuckled, patting your cheek. “I know he kept telling you that you could trust him. That he wouldn’t hurt you. It was bullshit Y/n. This man only cares about one thing. Himself”

You thought back to the first night you laid your eyes on him, back when his hair was a faded green, his sweaty tan skin contrasting his dark leather jacket. The look of familiarity in his eyes and the gleam from his diamond studded watch. You were a fool. He strung you along.

“Where is he?” You growled, “I wanna hear it from him. I wanna ask him myself”

“Absolutely. In fact, if you’re up for it, I was wondering if you would be down to do another little mission for me” Jin winked at you. You scowled, folding your arms over your chest, “If we don’t kill him first, he’s planning on killing Yoongi tonight before the party. I know because I got him to let me in on his little coup” Your heart dropped, “You don’t want that do you?”

"No” You blurted. 

“So let’s kill him first. Come on, let’s go get you dolled up for this party”

As you left the office, you couldn’t help but notice a familiar figure standing at the other end of the hallway.

Namjoon? Your eyes locked with his. He pressed a finger to his lips before pointing at Jin and shaking his head. What is he trying to say. Namjoon seemed to have a warning look in his eyes. You simply shrugged at him, before running down the hall to catch up with Jin.

Namjoon exhaled, watching from a window as Jin and you drove off, likely heading to the hotel. Looking at his palm he saw the way his nails left imprints in his skin from how hard he was clenching his fists. Namjoon wasn’t necessarily a fan of Taehyung, but he knew a thing or two about him from Yoongi. Taehyung would never kill people. He was averse to it for some reason, Namjoon always thought it was ironic for him to be a gangster given that quality. Taehyung could torture anyone, threaten anyone, but he didn’t have it in him to take a life. 

Which meant that Jin was lying to you. Namjoon never liked Jin. Even aside from all the hits he had taken from the strong man, he always felt something was off about the guy. He feels uneasy about what he had just seen transpire, and decided to go find Yoongi. 

-

“Do you want some coke?” You were in the middle of washing your face when Jin walked in with a bag of powder. “I could use a hit, I don’t know about you”

“Oh hell yes. Thank you” He poured out a line on the bathroom counter using a quarter, watching with a small chuckle as you inhaled the drug, nose pressed against the cool marble. You sighed, wiping your nose and flashing a big grin in the mirror “Damn. I needed that. I didn’t know that you use”

Jin bit back a smirk, “I do.” He poured another line on the same place, this time taking a hit himself. “A lot”

“Oh. Officer Jin is a druggie like the rest of us huh” You teased. Jin poured himself a gin martini, taking a sip, eyes alight with amusement. “Does that turn you on ever? Do you ever have a hottie cuffed up and they’re like please Officer does that..you know..turn you on?”

Jin’s eyes widened at you “Not any hottie, no. Now if I had you cuffed up saying that” He chuckled, pulling you to him by the waist “That’s a whole other story” You pushed him away playfully.

“What?” Jin said mockingly, “Don’t remember that night where I gave you the best orgasm of your life?” His traced his lips up your jaw, and you could feel his smile against you.

“Wow. Cocky are we?” You raised your eyebrows. “I’ve had some pretty good sex in my life. Hard to say if that was the best”

Suddenly, Jin pulled his knife from his back pocket, glancing in the mirror as he traced the blade across your neck just enough for you to feel the sharp cold metal glide on your skin, pinching without actually making you bleed. “Don’t even lie. You loved fucking me. Don’t you remember? How fucking wet you were?” His breath was hot against your lips, but it was the look in his eyes that had you weak in the knees. 

Taking his knife, he slit clean down your shirt, tearing it off of you to reveal your bare chest. “On the floor slut” His whispered, flirty demeanor now shifted into something dark. Something feral.

You gulped, taking care to slide your bottoms off, not wanting him to slice them up before lowering yourself down onto the tiled bathroom floor. 

Jin set the knife aside, pulling out his lighter and setting in on the counter before shedding his own clothes, even he kicking off his shoes. He lifted his foot, and you watched with a curious gaze as he placed his foot on your chest. He kept the weight off of you, much to your relief, and you couldn’t help but feel absolutely filthy as he rolled your breasts under the sole of his foot. You had never done anything like this. It seemed so dirty, but felt so good. 

“Oh my god Jin” You gasped as he switched onto his other leg, taking his foot and shoving it into your mouth, watching in amusement as you gagged over his toes.

“Look at you. On the fucking floor. Naked little whore. Letting me do whatever I fucking want.” He removed his foot from your mouth, letting you catch your breath before you looked up at him with quivering eyes.

He felt blood rush to his cock at your expression. Licking his lips, knelt down, climbing over you to gently trail his fingers where his foot had been moments ago.

“And you love it” He sneered, letting his nails dig into your breast, “You love the pain don’t you you fucking slut?” When you didn’t answer he grabbed your jaw, pushing his fingers into the edge of your mouth. “I asked you a fucking question”

“Y...yes” You exhaled. You felt his fingers tease your clit, teeth tugging on your lobe as he laughed darkly.

Jin reached for the martini glass “Turn over” He growled. You found yourself with your breasts pressed flat against the floor, Jin’s cock pressing into your ass. You gasped as he poured the drink onto your back. “This is gonna burn. And you’re gonna take it like a good girl. I know you are, you let Yoongi do it so I can too”

“Wait what” Jin pressed your face down with one hand while the other grabbed his lighter, “Jin. Hold on.” Your voice rose in fear, which only turned Jin on more. He watched as you writhed under him, trying desperately to get away. “Jin seriously. That’s not funny”

“Shhh. You can take it” He cooed, flicking the flame on he slowly lowered it to your skin, bringing it nearer and nearer to the doused skin. You yelped as you began to feel the concentrated heat. Your entire body was petrified. “Enjoy it baby. You like it. You love it. You let Yoongi do it so why can’t I?”

“Jin. It’s not you, I'm just not ready for something like this please” Jin cocked his head aside in irritation, stopping the lighter before it actually touched you and tossing it aside. “I didn’t let Yoongi brand me he just did.”

Jin stilled momentarily. “And you still love him? Even though he did that?”

You didn’t answer. That alone was enough for Jin to rage. He slammed your face back down, the blow giving you a dizzying sensation that hat you getting wetter by the second. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He growled, “How can you love someone like that?” He pulled your face up, bending you back until you were flush against his chest. “I don’t want any of them touching you again. You understand me?” He let go, giving you whiplash as you fell back to the floor. “Ass up. Now” He spanked your ass hard, causing you to yelp. The stinging pain vibrated to your core. You couldn’t help but love every second of it. 

Jin knew that you were scared of him, he could feel it. He could also see the way your thighs would clench whenever he did anything to you. You were his favorite drug. He was going to ruin you.

He grabbed his belt from the pile of clothes on the side, “Hands under” He demanded, rolling his lip through his teeth as you obeyed him right away. He took the belt tying your wrists to your knees under you.

He took a moment to admire his work, your shivering body all his for the taking. You had no where to run. He had you now. “Who gives it to you the best him?” Pulling you towards him by your thighs, he didn’t care that your knees would burn against the smooth tile as he lined his cock up with your folds. He spat down, a glob of saliva landing on your ass before he used his cock head to rub it all over you. He could hear your shaky breath, your whiny moans that made him want to fuck you even more. 

He slapped his palm  onto the curve of your ass, bending over your to growl into your ear “Filthy whore. You disgust me. You let them all just do whatever they want to you, don’t you have any fucking self respect?” He could see his words were hitting close to home. You pursed your trembling lips as Jin smacked you again in the same place. 

“When will you fucking learn huh? This pussy” He reached his hand to harshly cup your cunt, shoving two fingers inside you without warning. “This pussy belongs to me. You’re mine. My cockslut whore” Taking his fingers out, he shoved them into your mouth “You taste that? That how desperate your needy little cunt is for me”

Your legs were strung together, making it all the more painful when he finally began to push his cock inside you, using his fingers to scissor you open so that he could get deep inside you. His length pushed against your tight walls, your cries and curses only motivating Jin to push further. 

“Who owns this cunt huh?” Jin pulled your hips back, burning your knees each time as he pulled you on and off his cock. Your ass slammed into him with each blow. 

“You do. Holy fuck, you do” You gasped, practically screaming as your whole body ached with pain and pleasure. 

“That’s right baby” He pinched your clit, making you yelp as he flicked at it, pounding into your relentlessly. 

“J..Jin” You mumbled, lips still half pressed on the floor, “Jin please. Feels good” Jin scoffed, “Gonna cum...gonna cum” You inhaled loudly as you felt your high approaching. Your eyes clenched shut as he edged you closer and closer, fingers furiously attacking your clit until he stopped.

You let out a loud sob as Jin yanked you up by your neck “You really thought I would let you cum whore?” His grip tightened, cock twitching at the way your voice sounded choking, the water streaming from your eyes and the drool at the edge of your lips. He kissed you, licking it all up in the process.  

“Look in the mirror. Look at how pathetic you are. I want you to remember the only person who’s ever gonna let you feel this good” You looked at your reflection, seeing only your faces and the way Jin’s nails dug into your neck. He pushed you forward so that your chin was on the countertop. You coughed out, watching as he resumed his thrusts, punishing your clit with the jarring movements of his fingers. 

You screamed, pleasure crashing over you in a wave of tantalizing heat. You gushed onto his cock, tears falling from your eyes due to how overwhelming the sensation was. Jin continued to whisper filth right into your ears but you could no longer hear anything. Your vision became hazy, not minding the blow when Jin shoved you back onto the floor and pounded you to his own release.

On the other side of the wall, Namjoon leaned his head back and sighed, glancing down to see his cock in his hands, now completely covered in cum.

-

Taehyung chewed on his gum nonchalantly as he paced around the luxurious hotel, checking out all the fun features. The pool deck was nice, the lobby exquisite, and his favorite part, the cafe, smelt delicious. 

Yoongi had asked to meet him in his suite. On his way there he ran into you, and you knocked his breath away. He always thought you were beautiful, but tonight you looked elegant. It was such a surprising contrast to your usual getup, but you looked amazing. He was about to tell you just that when he finally registered the hurt look in your eyes.

“You liar” You slapped him with everything you had. Taehyung backed away in surprise. “How could you use me like that? Over and over again. I trusted you. You were really the only one I thought had my back. Without a fucking doubt” You lunged towards him for another hit but Taehyung held your wrist firmly.

“What are you talking about? When did I use you?” Taehyung looked around frantically, “Calm down okay, let’s go somewhere and talk this through.” Your eyes flared in anger. 

“Don’t fucking tell me to calm down! You’re gonna kill them!” You screamed. Taehyung squinted, noticing the slight redness in your eyes. He sighed in understanding, pulling you by the wrist into a corridor. 

“Y/n. Breathe. Tell me what’s going on” Taehyung attempted to calm you down but you were enraged. “And what the fuck are you on?”

Admittedly, you and Jin had ended up doing many more lines of coke, perhaps even molly, you were no longer sure, but you washed it down with the bottle of gin, finding it unprecedentedly hilarious that Jin liked to drink gin martinis. 

“You used me! To fuck with Jimin! And Yoongi! You lied to me! Everything you said was a fucking lie, everything you did, every stupid word that came out of your stupid mouth was a lie! You just want power. You’re selfish, and...and...you’re gonna KILL them” A dramatic gasp left your lips, Taehyung almost laughed, “You’re gonna kill Yoongi. I...I can’t let you do that”

You pulled out your gun, cocking it and pressing it against Taehyung’s chest. He instantly put his hands up. “Y/n. Y/n stop. That’s not true okay you’re not thinking straight. Don’t do something you’ll regret”

Your hands trembled around the gun “You’ll kill them. You’ll kill them both...I can’t let you do that”

“Hold on!”

Too late. You pulled the trigger.

-

Hobi wandered through the parking lot looking for his car. His eyes narrowed on a familiar vehicle, thinking back to when he had loaded the drug money from the last fight. 

So. Is that guy Yoongi then? The one I kept seeing? Hobi wandered over to the car. Peering inside the passenger window, his eyes locked on a small item on the floor of the car. He squinted to read it, it appeared to be some sort of credit card.

He stepped back, realizing what the name on the card was. He glanced around before taking the end of his gun and ramming it into the door handle. The door creaked open, allowing Hobi to swipe the card up. He slid it into his pocket, before hurriedly returning to the hotel. 

-

Namjoon’s eyes widened as he watched you pull a gun out on Taehyung. He had been thoroughly entertained as you yelled and slapped him, knowing full well that you were high out of your mind. 

Namjoon couldn’t understand Jin’s plan at all. He had eavesdropped on everything so far, as per Yoongi’s orders. Why would Jin ask you to kill Taehyung, why wouldn’t he just do it himself? He knew you would hate yourself if you actually killed him. 

He had also been thoroughly disappointed at how easily Jungkook had bought into Jin’s agenda as well. The things people do for money. Namjoon sighed, realizing that he was pretty much acting on similar motivations. 

You were ready to pull the trigger, and Namjoon was almost certain you wouldn’t do it, until he saw your finger begin to curl. He ran towards the corridor as fast as he could.

“Hold on!” He yelled, but it was too late. Taehyung’s eyes flew shut.

Namjoon blinked, not hearing the familiar gunshot sound. You looked equally confused, glancing down the barrel of your gun. Taehyung let out a shaky sigh of relief, sliding down the wall.

“It...was a blank” You mumbled. Namjoon rushed to your side, pulling you away from Taehyung. “What the...what was I just about to do?” His heart clenched as your lips parted in shock.

“Taehyung are you okay?” Namjoon asked. Taehyung nodded, clearly shaken up but managing to get a hold of himself. 

“What the fuck is going on?” He growled, “Who gave her a gun? And who gave her drugs while she had a gun? Fucking hell”

Namjoon stroked your back as you let the gun drop to the floor, the weight of your actions finally hitting you. 

“I’m so sorry. Taehyung I...” You looked into his eyes. Those eyes that always left you questioning what was really going on in that pretty head of his. 

“Yeah. Jin fucking fed her some interesting stories about how you’re using her. At least I hope they’re just stories” Namjoon peered at him. “I’m Namjoon by the way, we haven’t officially met”

Taehyung shook his hand “Hi Namjoon. I heard you make pretty decent music” He chuckled ironically, “Y/n, I need you to tell me everything Jin said. There’s been some sort of misunderstanding, I promise you I wasn’t taking advantage of you.”

Namjoon made a face, exchanging a glance with you as you nodded slowly. Namjoon was not entirely sure he should believe Taehyung. He supposed it wouldn’t matter, when he knew that Yoongi was planning to kill Taehyung anyways. The more information he had, the better he could at least keep you out of trouble. 

P R E S E N T  D A Y--

Security escorted you and Jimin out immediately as the media broke into a frenzy trying to figure out what had happened. You had hoped your acting skills had convinced him. 

After Taehyung sobered you up slightly, the three of you had sat and schemed. Using everything the three of you knew, you were able to figure out that it really was Jin behind Jimin’s accident, your and Namjoon’s kidnapping, as well as Jungkook’s attempted murder. He was able to do all of this using Hobi’s help, but Hobi seemed not to know that he was receiving orders from Jin.

The question remained how and why. 

“I know you’re not going to believe me. So I have proof” Taehyung pulled his phone out, pulling up a recording of Jin tied up somewhere.

All I ask, is that when the dust settles, Y/n is mine. And I get to kill them. My way

You felt queasy seeing his earnest expression through the film. Namjoon’s jaw clenched, recognizing crazy when he saw it, wishing he could have knocked the guy’s brains out beforehand.

“Listen to me. This guy is dangerous. I don’t really understand why he’s doing all of this. He said he wanted to help me, but clearly there’s some other motive here. Otherwise he wouldn’t go behind my back.” Taehyung muttered.

“The only way to know what he wants is to see what he does next” Namjoon pitched in. 

You glanced between the two men, feeling weirdly relieved that you finally had some solid answers. Having Namjoon by your side after so long was the best thing you could ask for at the moment, and you clung to him, hands wrapped around his arm tightly. He thought it was cute.

“Let me fake my death. Let’s see what he does.”

The drivers took you and Jimin to the precinct. You looked around for Namjoon but he was nowhere to be seen. Your eyes met Jin’s briefly as he signed some paperwork. He winked at you.

“Can I have the body taken to get an autopsy report please?” You weren’t phased by this. Taehyung had said he had enough contacts to make it truly believable that he had died. Jimin’s face was void of emotion as he watched the stretcher go past with the body on it.

You left the hold on his hand, your blood running cold as the body nears you. It was loosely covered with a white sheet, but the arm hung out limply from the sight.

That watch. That’s his watch.

Jimin pressed his lips to the top of your head, sliding his arm around your shoulders to pull you closer to him “You okay babe?” 

“I...no yeah, I’m just shocked” You stammered. You looked up at him, allowing him to place a loving kiss on your lips.

Jimin felt for you, he really did. He himself was generally an emotional person, it was not something he ever tried to hide. But he always felt like his emotional energy was valuable. He didn’t feel the need to cry. Not for Taehyung.

Jimin stroked your back softly, “It’s scary, I know. I know baby, but don’t worry” He licked his lips, eyes briefly meeting Hobi’s from across the room. Hobi gave him a knowing look.

“Don’t worry. It’ll all be over soon”

ᐊ——[ previous ] series navi | masterlist | [ next ]——ᐅ

a/n: WOOHOOO. the fun is really gonna start now. did you miss yoongi? don’t worry, he’ll be back. drop your theories in my asks! who killed taehyung? what’s jin’s deal? 

smut pairs are up for next week! poor oc, she really needs to eat some food. yikes.

see you then & thanks for reading <3 happy juneteenth! 

taglist: @imluckybitches @gee-nee @missseoulite @hcneybees @kooookie​ @queenmasterxx @crustycaitlin @virgo-and-libra @un2-verse @winter-melontea @equivocacies​ @infernal-alpaca @shrimpmsg @meowmeowyoongles @rjsmochii @liltangerined @littlrmills14-blog @issysor @arandomblackgirl @adoringinsanity @giadalin @jeontier @kaithezaftig @jinssexytoe @nonnis97@minyoongiboongi @happygirl62304 @just-me-and-myselfs @purplepebbles @channiespup @lilacdreams-00 @kianam @thmrdrs @kpoppin-mel @namjooningelsewhere @lolzerss @planetsope @ohmykim @xyahrinx @bangtan-army @you-are-my-wind

[queenofthedisneyverse]

Meet y/n - Disney corruption au

-Y/n is 15-16 yrs old. Your family decides to take a trip to Disney land for vacation. While your parent(s) isn't looking you go over to a closed-off area in the park. Normally you wouldn't do that, you have some sort of common sense but something was calling you to this area. you end up at a broken-up nearly collapsed park. As soon as you stepped onto the ground you felt fear come over you.

-there was an old castle up ahead and you walk up to it. You are hesitant at first but open the doors...

-y/n arrives in Disney town passed out in front of Mickey's castle. He brought them in out of curiosity since he didn't recognize them. Y/n wakes up in a big room with a big window facing Disney town.

-Mickey was watching them so he saw when they woke up. He comes into the room and introduces himself. Y/n already knows who he is but they freak out more than they already have been. Mickey acts all nice and innocent trying to calm them down. Once y/n calms down they tell him who they are and where they came from.

-Mickey Is surprised to find out that y/n(you) is from the human world he sees them as a new "friend" and decides to keep them. He asks y/n if they're ready to leave the room and y/n not wanting to be alone follows him down the castle.

-y/n was treated like royalty. If y/n asks for a certain toy, food, clothes, or ask to see a certain character they get it no questions asked. If a character is dead, being tested on, or hard to find Mickey will say that they're busy or they're hanging out with family. Y/n wonders far into the castle out of curiosity/boredom and ends up at a green door(it's clear you didn't learn the first time). Y/n opens it and...

-

-you, y/n need to free all the characters locked in Mickey's laboratory in order to get home. With each character you free you are rewarded with a new weapon or physical upgrade for obstacles.

-you will have to face monsters, lab-tested characters, and psychotic people who want to see you in pain. But you will complete every task at hand.

-you get a chance to hide at a secret hideout...casita. Casita/the madrigals live far down below and far away from Disney town and you find refuge there. Under the house, there is an underground tunnel that leads to other houses that belong to new/other characters that didn't want to be found by mickey

-Julieta helps nurse the characters you saved back to health while you go back and save other characters.

-While you are doing this you have to sneak past security guards, mickey, his friends, Disney town residents, etc.

-Mickey gets suspicious of you and asks one of his goons and friends to follow you around but you're smarter than that and have a cloaking device that was given to you after one of your missions. you use it often to hide

-You get hurt a lot but your gen z so you can take it. the hourglass around your neck is a timer and you only have a certain amount of time until you have to go back home.

-

I want to thank @gamerbearmira for helping make this au and for the design. If you have any questions, ideas, and/or prompts my ask box is open. you can find more about this au here and in the tags on my page

This au was inspired by @c-rose2081

you can find the first designs here

[pleasantanathema]

Porco Galliard | Mercy

Pairing: Porco Galliard x Fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ Only)

Warnings: Bondage with a belt, Panties stuffed into Porco’s mouth, A little bit of degradation, Some power play dynamics, Established Relationship

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: Part of my Nine Muses Event to celebrate 9k! Follow the link to read more fanfics I’m writing to celebrate. This is quite inspired by late night thirsting with @lady-lunaaa, who somehow loves Pock more than me 🧡 

          Porco Galliard looked so pretty with your panties stuffed in his mouth.

           He was always so whiny, so vocal, so willing to wake up anyone and everyone with the way he begged whenever you decided to play with him. You just wanted to hear what those little pleas sounded like when muffled by your slick-stained panties—they were just as darling, especially when groaned so heartily that drool spilled over flush cheeks.

          And those thick arms of his looked delicious tied above his head with his own belt. His muscles were bulging, biceps flexing as you took your time teasing his weeping cock. Thick fingers were turning white against the leather.

          This wasn’t your end game, no, you were just winding him up, coiling him tighter and tighter until you decided to release him and see what kind of wrath you would face.

          You didn’t often get to be in control of him like this, so you were going to revel in it, going to drown in the power of being able to make him thrash against his binds. It took a lot of effort to tie him up. You’d wrestled with him over it, naked limbs weaving together like rope as you struggled to overpower him.

          Those were the terms he set, having agreed to allowing you to tie him up, only if you were able to force him into it. And you did, once you wrapped your thighs around his perfect jaw.

          Who knew your pussy would be such a marvelous weapon of distraction. Porco had been groaning your name into your cunt when you secured the buckle around his wrists.

          Sliding your panties past plump lips had been a treat. You watched his arched brows furrow, normally perfect hair already starting to spill on his forehead as his tongue pooled with the bittersweet tang of your slick.

          “Don’t act like you don’t like it, baby. Besides you were the one making me wet by teasing me under the table.”

          You were tracing your finger up the ridge of his hard cock, watching him twitch and leak just from a few moments of playful taunting. He’d never been good at self control, his fault only made more evident as a muffled cry left his throat when your thumb circled the head of his cock, smearing pre-cum over hot, silken skin. You could feel the blood pouring down to his groin, thickening him up and making his veins pump harder under your touch.

          Your tongue swirled over his nipple, grunts vibrating in his thick chest against your mouth. Your name was in his mouth, soaking into the fabric as he probably begged you to hurry up, to sink your cunt onto his cock so the ache he felt would go away.

          You were careful to keep your pussy away from his cock, even as you sat back on his thighs, you hovered over him, heat just out of reach.

          “God you look so pretty like this,” your point was emphasized as you ran your palms over the arms above his head, feeling his muscles flex. He was always pretty, but now he looked so open, so vulnerable, pink with blush and glistening with sweat.

          The sparse, downy hair on his chest prickled when your hands moved over his pectorals, pinching at his nipples as you slid down his body. Those muffled whines get louder as you lick at his cock, short kitten licks that just leave spit to cool against his skin. Then you peppered his perfect balls with kisses, even going so far as to pop one between your lips before moving away again.

          Amber eyes were practically melting with rage, his cheeks puffing as he spit your panties from between his lips.

          “Untie me. Right now.”

          He was giving you a chance—he could easily move his arms from the pillow if he wanted. But if you freed him, he’d show some kindness. But you didn’t want mercy.

          “Or what, Pock?”

          For once, he didn’t vocalize what he wanted to do to you. No whispers of I’m going to fuck you until you scream, I’ll make you beg for me to let you cum, none of the little threats he’d made in your ear at dinner. No, he was just going to show you.

          Canine teeth ripped at leather and metal as he sat up, muscular thigh pressing up against your pussy as he freed himself. He was quick to pull you below him, man handling you until you were face down in his pillows, the belt he’d torn off being wrapped around your wrists.

          “You’re fucking clever, I’ll give you that. You know I can’t resist that pretty pussy against my mouth.”

          He pulled your hips up, keeping one hand against your back as the other pressed his swollen head against your folds. All you could smell was him on the sheets, all you could feel was his cock slapping against your clit to tease you.

          “Fuck, you’re dripping. Little powertrip really got you off, hm?”

          There was no chance to respond, your breath knocked out of your lungs when he shoved his cock into your cunt. He always felt so fucking good, so fat and full that it made your pussy flutter just to be stuffed with him.

          Porco tangled his fist around your bound wrists, tugging until your shoulders burned and you had to arch your back to meet his strength. His hips were already relentless, his earlier teasing having him chasing that release as quickly as he could. Your body bounced against his, backs of your thighs burning from the sting of his own slapping against yours.

          “I’ll show you what real power is, baby.”

          He laughed as you just babbled out nonsense, brain struggling to keep up with the overload of pleasure building in your belly and racing over your nervous system. A slap to your ass had you crying, tears bubbling over your cheeks from the white-hot mixture of pleasure and pain from his strong hand. He repeated the action a few times, stopping only when he felt your cunt clench around him and cause his focus to fade.

          “Such a good little slut,” he panted out his praise, using the muscles in his arm and shoulder to pull you back farther, grip tightening around the belt on your wrists, “such a tight pussy, god you look so good wrapped around my cock.”

          You were ready to burst, the sounds of his cock thrusting into your wet pussy, the feel of him using you, the hot burn of him spreading you apart, all of it was too much. You were drowning in the ecstasy, floating in the haze of Porco’s fury. You knew he was capable of more, that he didn’t want to hurt you, just bring you into that delicious stupor of pleasure and pain that would have you coming undone.

          “Fuck, I’m gonna cum, g-gonna fill you up,” he moaned, a sweaty hand gripping your hip so mean that you knew it to be true.

          “P-Porco, please, let me—”

          “Oh no, no, no, you don’t get to cum.”

          He dropped you into the mattress as he came, hot cum spurting into your pussy. He always had such fat loads, always made you a fucking mess whenever he fucked you. You could feel his cock still pulsing, over, and over, and over again, strings of seed spilling into your hole for far too long. It dripped down your thighs nice and slow, enough to tease.

          You only milked him more as your pussy sucked him in, looking for your own release. Porco whispered your name a few times in reverence, hand smoothing down your back and hooking around your binds again.

          “Don’t tease me again,” he warned, “next time you tie me up, you better fuck me.”

[bleeding-letters]

Snippet #4.02

Part 1

Tw: use of medical equipment, death mentioned, burns mentioned, car accident mentioned,

(all mentioneds’ are marked as tw.death, tw.burns, ect. ect.)

When the door clicked shut behind Civilain, they all but collapsed into a heap. Their bag slipped from between their fingers and to the ground with a heavy thunk. A breath they didn’t know they’d been holding escaped them as they dragged a hand through their hair. They let the silence stretch around them, as if it could say ‘there is peace in the city, it’s okay, it’s all okay now’. They dropped to a crouch beside the bag they had dropped.

*Cough*

Civilian shot their feet, their eyes darting across the apartment. “Who’s there?” Their eyes landed on a shape at their kitchen table. “Show yourself.” They growled as they groped for something, anything on their belt. Anything they could use as a weapon. The shadow in return, put their hands up in surrender. “Calm yourself. I have no interest in a fight.” Yeah right. Why else would they be here? A thief wouldn’t stick around so whoever this was wanted to be seen. So what did they want?

“I’m only here because the boss wants to talk to you, something about two weeks being up? Said you’d know what that means.”

Two weeks? What did that m- oh. Something close to relief bubbled in Civilian’s chest. Supervillain wanted them. That really shouldn’t have been reassuring, but— hold on, why did they want them?

“I… I told them-“

“Look, I don’t care what your excuse is, you’re going to their base. Grab whatever things you need, you’re coming with me.” The person stood, then crossed the room to stand in front of Civilian. Wow, this henchman-person is short.

“I am not short! I am Supervillain’s right hand, and I am not some lowly henchman.” But okay, they weren’t that short, but then again they only came to Civilian’s shoulder! What were they supposed to say?

“You’re not supposed to say anything. And I am a normal height, I’ll have you know.” They growled before not-so-subtly changing the topic to what supplies Civilian might need and basically dragging them back out of their apartment.

It was a quick ride to Supervillain’s base. At least, from what Civilian could tell with a blindfold on. They’d handed off some of the equipment— a set of tweezers and their trauma shears— to be sterilized, and after had been whisked through corridor after corridor until their guide shoved them towards a door and sped off.

But now here they were, in the presence of Supervillain. Answer the questions thoroughly, answer all of them, the right hand had instructed on the way over. Answer the questions thoroughly, answer a-

“I’ll admit, it took me a minute or two after I left before I realized I wasn’t in pain,” the super swiveled in their chair, now facing the poor civilian. “Care to clarify?” They didn’t hesitate with their answer.

“My jump bag has morphine in it. I took a chance you weren’t allergic to it and administered. I hoped you wouldn’t mind.” The civilian set the bag down and began to fidget with the bagged supplies. “Where and how many stitches, again?”

“You don’t remember?” The supervillain had the audacity to sound surprised.

“I’ve been busy.” Their mind whirred through the scenes, one after another. The flashing sirens and radio calls. The chaos and the screams. The anguish and flat-lines.

“Surely you’d remember stitching up someone in your living room.” The supervillain sounded both smug and incredulous in a way that made Civilian’s blood boil. They didn’t dare look at them, else they might get the urge to throw something at their face.

“Look, in the past few days I’ve been in countless living rooms. I’ve been to three different fire scenes and treated numerous burn victims. I’ve been transport and lifeline for six heart attack victims. I have been to over twenty car accidents and encountered far too many DOAs than I’d care to count.” The images flashed through their mind, one haunting face after another. “So many people, too dead, too soon. So forgive me if I don’t remember the one instance that involved you.”

It was only after that they remembered who they were snapping at.

Their hand flew over their mouth— they didn’t mean to say that! Civilian couldn’t help but look at the supervillain, to survey their reaction or out of pure shock, they couldn’t tell.

The supervillain laughed— they were laughing?! What did that mean? Civilian was going to die weren’t they? And even after their laughter died down until it was nothing more than a sly smirk, Civilian knew there would be trouble for their outburst.

“Two on the left arm and one across the ribs. And the last one is here.” They gestured to a spot just above their hip.

Civilian nodded but didn’t move towards them. Where was Right Hand? Where was their equipment? Surely it had been long enough, right? Between the time they had been separated from Right Hand and now, it had easily been a half hour, probably longer. It didn’t take that long to sterilize equipment. Civilian stared at the door, before glancing back to the supervillain. They grimaced. Supervillain seemed a bit annoyed with having to wait. And they were not known as a patient person.

Civilian had the feeling that if Right Hand took too much longer, Civilian would surely pay for it.

[author-morgan]

"I won't let anyone hurt you, you're safe with me" with eivor please... Maybe he rescues reader from the order after they had been used for different experiments or something

i am so sorry for how long this took, but I had to come up with the right plot bunny to pair with the prompt for some angst(tm). here you are, i hope you enjoy and don't mind the touch of Havi and Frigg, or in which Havi makes a promise to his sweet Frigg and keeps it even in the next life.

m!Eivor x fem!Reader

SÝNIN CIRCLES IN the clear sky above the longhouse of Ravensthorpe, and then you know your husband is not far now. Soon Eivor Wolfsmal will be back in your arms, where he belongs. The raven descends, coming to perch on your shoulder, nudging his beak against your temple —as much as you’ve missed Eivor, you’ve missed Sýnin in equal measure. Things could get surprisingly lonely without a tetchy raven around to croak at all hours of the night, steal your hairpins, and beg for treats. Reaching up, you scritch the blue-back feathers on his belly and are rewarded by a low, gurgling croak. “Have you been behaving yourself?” Sýnin bobs his head, but you have a gut feeling he’s lying for the chance at a few extra treats.

Taking to the docks, you watch along the river bends for the sail and masts of the longship. The blue-and-back sail and shields turn from the west —squinting, you can see him standing on the curved scorpion tail, looking onward to home. With a nervous smile, you rest your hand over your belly, knowing soon it will start to grow. You’ve much to tell him since he’s been gone the past weeks, building alliances with Saxon nobles across England.

“Eivor, my love,” you call, meeting him at the edge of the dock as he steps off the longship. His smile is tired but relieved when he looks upon you with Sýnin perched upon your shoulder —the best ‘welcome home’ he could ask for. You open your arms, embracing him as the crew disseminates among the settlement. Eivor pulls back, his hands —rougher than you remember— cupping your cheeks.

There’s something different in your expression, a new glow surrounding you that he cannot place. Regardless of his racing mind, he leans forward as you urge him down with a hand at the nape of his neck. It’s been weeks, and he sighs against your mouth, the burdens of the world washed away by your touch and kiss. “Walk with me?” You ask, holding fast to his hand. He nods, offering his arm. Word of the recently secured alliance can wait; he has been parted from his wife too long.

You lead him past the longhouse, the people of Ravensthorpe smiling as they see Eivor has returned and know what it is you’re going to tell him. Once Valka confirmed your suspicions, it hadn’t taken long for word to travel by way of two mischievous children.

Everyone is happy; and happy for you and Eivor, knowing you two had tried to conceive many times. Stopping beneath the great tree past the Seer’s Hut, you turn with a smile —hand settling on your middle. “I’ve good news to tell you.” Eivor lifts his brow, and your smile only widens as you reach for his hand, pressing it against your belly. He sucks in a deep breath, heart thudding in his chest and ears as he looks to you, his clear blue eyes wide with joy and surprise. You nod, resting your hand over his. “I am with child.”

Eivor is silent for a moment, gathering his words and emotions. He looks down at your belly, then back to you —overjoyed and uncertain. This is a moment you’ve only ever talked about; that he’s dreamt of when the gods were kind enough to let him have a good dream. “I’m going to be a father?” Eivor breathes, though it sounds more like a question. You nod again, eyes gleaming with tears as he rests his other hand on your stomach too. His smile too large to be hidden under his shaggy golden beard. There’s another moment’s pause, then Eivor slips his arms around you, bringing you into a tight embrace —his face tucked into your neck.

You lose track of how long Eivor holds you in his arms as if it all is only a dream and he may wake at any second. Stepping back, he takes your face into his rough hands, brushing away the tears streaking your cheeks. Eivor dips his head down, his nose brushing against yours before your lips meet —gentle and loving but still burning with fervor from the weeks of being parted from one another.

“You’ve made me the happiest man in Midgard,” he admits. You lean into him again, taking another kiss before he settles onto one knee in front of you, level with your belly. Eivor rests his forehead against your front, his hands loosely holding onto your hips. “Rest easy, little one.” Smiling, you brush back his golden hair —half-unbound from his warrior’s braids and knotted. “I will protect you and your mother.” It’s a promise.

“EIVOR,” RANDVI CRIES as he enters the longhouse, tears still fresh on her cheeks. She should not have let you go riding outside of Ravensthorpe alone, especially knowing you were with child. He clasps onto her shoulders, steadying her so she can gather her senses. “It’s Fulke.” The script is fresh in her memory, having read it a dozen times over to be certain of the ill-boding tidings. Randvi shakes her head, unable to meet her friend's concerned gaze. “She’s taken more than just Sigurd.”

“No,” Eivor breathes, but Randvi presents the scroll as proof. He skims the words —his worst fears coming to fruition. Not only did Fulke hold his brother captive, but now the conniving bitch had stolen you away too. You. His wife. The mother of his unborn child. He’d sworn to protect both of you with every breath in his lungs, and now it is an oath broken.

The sudden anger boiling under his skin is so hot it burns the fear freezing him, turning to determination. Eivor crumples the parchment, his expression twisting —no god can save you now, Fulke. “Send word to our allies.” Randvi nods, stepping back to the writing-table at the edge of the map room. “I will burn all of Wessex if I have to,” Eivor grits out, hands turning to fists at his sides as he leaves the longhouse to gather his men —a part of him feels as though he has walked this path before.

HAVI STRIDES THROUGH Fensalir with a deep sadness in his heart, but his agony cannot compare to that of his sweet Frigg. For three days and three nights, his queen has asked for solitude, and though it pained him to keep away during such times, he and the others respected Frigg’s wishes. Though Havi would not leave his dear wife to grieve alone, sending Huginn and Muninn to keep a watchful eye over the Queen of the Æsir. The two ravens are perched upon a stone bench at the edge of the fen. Thor glances over his shoulder at the approaching footsteps —his expression is weary and grief-stricken as he looks upon his father.

Gently, your son releases you from his tight embrace and rises, stepping back with a silent promise to return soon as he greets his father with a solemn nod before leaving. Havi pushes back his hood, seeing the white flowers spring from the earth with your tears. Baldr will be remembered —in deeds and songs and the blossoms brought forth by his mother’s tears. He kneels, reaching for your hands, and slides the bloody sprig of mistletoe free from your grasp. Through weary eyes, you look upon your husband —his expression twisted into the same display of forlorn grief. It makes your heart ache even more to have pushed him away, for he too lost a son. “Frigg,” he sighs.

“Havi,” you cry, falling into him. He swathes you in his black cloak, tucking you against his chest and holding you tight —a vow of retribution on his tongue. Loki would be punished for this crime. For all the realms felt the bitter void left by Baldr’s absence, and all wept, save for a giantess whose unshed tears doomed your son to Hel. The grief and anger simmering in his blood turn to something else —determination. He will not have his sweet Frigg endure this pain again; his one-armed embrace tightens as he cradles the back of your head. “I will not let another of our children fall,” Havi swears, lips brushing over your temple. “Not until our twilight has come.”

HE TWISTS HIS hands into Fulke’s leather-and-cloth armor, throwing the madwoman to the muddy and blood-slick ground. Fulke spits blood, pulling herself away from Eivor Wolfsmal on hands and knees only to find herself surrounded by his men and allies. All their weapons drawn, trained on her. The price for taking the Jarl of Raven Clan and Eivor’s wife is one to be paid in blood, and there is nowhere for her to run. She will have to suffer the wrath. “Where is she?” Eivor roars, kicking Fulke onto her back. He kneels, knee pressing into the bloody gash on her side, one of his throwing axes withdrawn and held high above his head —ready to strike.

There is no fear in her eyes, only bliss. Her work in this world now complete. “You made a choice,” Fulke laughs, choking on blood, “you chose Sigurd.” She coughs, blood-tinged spittle spattering against Eivor’s face, washed away by the pouring rain.

He roars, teeth bared and eyes burning hot with the rage of the gods. Lightning splits open the sky, thunder cracking like a great whip against the earth. “I will flay the skin from your bones and feed your eyes to my raven,” Eivor hisses.

Her smile is bloody —victorious. She knows you are leagues from here, and now the only ones who know are dead or dying. Eivor Wolfsmal could search the land for years and never find the seaside cave on the shores of Cent. “You’ll never find her,” Fulke says. One final victory before relinquishing herself to darkness and her wounds.

Eivor rises, his shoulders heaving and expression twisted. There is no time for a reunion when Sigurd limps from the fortress —clutching the stump where his hand and wrist once were— reinforcements from Wincestre draw nigh. The cry of war horns and drums echoing above the storm. He turns to Dag and Hrefna, eyes flitting over to his brother, unfit to fight in the coming battle. “See him back to Ravensthorpe,” he tells them before shifting his attention back to his allies. The day is not won yet, and Eivor will not rest until he has his beloved back in his arms.

ABOVE THE BREAKING waves of the sea, there is a whisper on the howling wind. Eivor looks to the sea below, then to Basim —his scouts working tirelessly since the siege of Portcestre nigh a fortnight ago to find leads. The culmination of their work leads him and Eivor to the southern edge of Cent to a cave guarded by Fulke’s acolytes. Eivor knows the gods are with him this day, as plain as if the Allfather whispered the affirmation into his ear.

The echoes of battle fill the air, and through the slivers of light above, you see shadows moving and hear the unmistakable cry of a raven growing closer —Sýnin. Rousing from uneasy rest, you clamber to the upturned bucket at the cell’s center, dragging chains behind you. Trembling, you clutch your swollen belly, then step up onto the bucket, fingers finding purchase on the metal grate above, slick with blood and excrements. Sýnin appears at the edge of the grate, his beady eyes staring down at you in the darkness, tilting his head this way and that. He hops up and down —talons clinking against the metal— before squawking wildly.

Eivor’s focus shifts from the dead littering the beach when he hears Sýnin inside the cave, and for the first time in weeks, you hear your name in his voice —a desperate plea. “Eivor!” His name is only a soft, airy rasp, not strong enough to carry with the raven’s calls. “Eivor!” You cry, this time louder, but your voice is broken, throat raw from days screaming and crying at the hands of Fulke and her enforcers. Sýnin’s squawks grow louder, mingling with footsteps.

The wave of relief almost shatters him when it hits and washes over his body and mind when he sees you —alive. Eivor reaches through the lattice, his fingers brushing against yours. “I’ve got you now,” he breathes, the torchlight showing the tears glistening in his clear blue gaze. You nod, smiling with cracked lips —thanking Frigg and Freyja that your prayers did not go unanswered. Eivor urges you to step down and aside, and when you do, he rears back, slamming the butt of his axe against the rusting lock, breaking it. With a sharp cry, he throws open the grate, sliding down into the darkness with you.

Hands trembling, he unlocks the manacles around your wrists and the shackle around your ankle. Each has left your skin red and raw beneath. Eivor gathers you in his arms. “Let’s get you out of here,” he says, lips brushing against your temple. You nod, eager to be rid of this damp and foul hole in the earth. Sýnin takes to your shoulder as soon as you are free, nudging his head against your temple and cheek. With a tired smile, you lift a hand to scritch the dark feathers of his underside as Eivor pulls himself free of the cell.

Eivor kneels, reaching for your hands, his thumbs brushing just above the broken skin on your wrists, and as you lean toward him, he swathes you with the coarse wool of his cloak —forehead pressed against yours. He feels the dampness on your cheeks as you press your face against his scarred neck. "I won't let anyone hurt you again,” he vows, “you're safe now.” One of his hands settles on your stomach, and you cover it with yours, holding him tightly with the other. “You’re both safe,” he whispers, and it’s only when he feels a light twitch against his hand that the realization breaks him. “I’m so sorry, my love,” Eivor chokes.

You draw back from his embrace, seeing the tears streak his face and the guilt clear on his expression. “Don’t blame yourself,” you plead, cupping his scarred cheek. “Please, don’t.” Eivor nods, though guilt still weighs heavily on his heart and will until he sees you safely returned to Ravensthorpe and tended to. He turns farther into your hand until his lips brush the center of your palm —a soft kiss, another promise.

Sýnin croaks, splashing in a puddle, and breaks yours and Eivor’s trance, reminding you both that you’re still in a cave, far from home and where you belong. He slides his arms beneath your knees and around your shoulders, rising with you. “You’re safe,” he repeats, more for himself to hear than you. Eivor breathes a deep sigh when he steps onto the beach, holding you close in his arms. Sýnin flies overhead, as do a pair of ravens — the same pair Eivor has seen in dreams of late. He smiles as he sets on the path carrying you up the cliffside, knowing Havi and Frigg had both heard his prayers.

[taglist:  @angstygunslinger @vanillabeanlattes @withered-poppies @ananriel @itseivwhore @maximalblaze @dynamicorbit @theelvenvalkyrie @xxdearlybeloved @elizabethroestone @elluvians @letsloveimagines @finick94 @wallsarecrumbling @kitkitvm @thedragonqueenfan @callmemythicalminx @edelae @darkravenqueen98 ] if your name is italicized, tumblr would not let me tag you. if you’d like to be added to my Eivor taglist, just let me know!

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 305: Worst Intervention Ever

Previously on BnHA: Shinomori, whose name took me an entire week to memorize, was all, “nice to meet you Deku, I’m ten feet tall, do you want to know how I died?” and without waiting for an answer explained that he kicked it from old age at forty thanks to good ol’ OFA. Deku was all “wait a minute, then how come All Might, who’s fifty-five and is definitely dyeing his gray hair, is still alive?” First and Shino were all, “we really have no fucking clue but we think it’s cuz he’s quirkless, JUST LIKE YOU!” So basically, since quirkless people don’t exactly grow on trees these days, Deku is probably going to be the last user of OFA. The chapter ended with Nana being all, “psst, Deku, about my grandson. Uh, can you kill him?” which is sure to lead to a very interesting conversation this week.

Today on BnHA: Nana And The Gang are all “so, Deku, how can we put this delicately. The thing is, we’re pretty sure that AFO really fucked my grandson up, so on the off chance you can’t save him, how would you feel about, you know... [throat slitting gesture].” Deku is all “idk you guys, I kinda feel like he’s really just a traumatized child at heart and he’s in a lot of pain and stuff and so I should try to help him.” The Vestiges are all “BUT WHAT IF YOU CAN’T” and Deku is all “BUT I WANT TO TRY, DAMMIT” and the Vestiges are all “well when you put it that way, we, uh, were just testing you, so congrats, you passed!” The chapter ends with First being all, “ANYWAY SO WHY DON’T YOU TWO SHY BOYS STANDING OVER THERE IN THE SHADOWS COME SAY HELLO” before we CUT AWAY FOR ANOTHER WEEK, goddammit.

seriously, Nana

just... have you met Deku?? look, if you really want Tomura dead, just sic him on the U.A. first years and tell Shouto and Honenuki that it’s a training exercise

oh my god lmao

we’re too far away to see Nana’s face here so I will just assume that she turned and is staring DIRECTLY INTO THE CAMERA for this one line lmao. “I just wanted to clarify in case anyone felt inclined to take my dialogue out of context and spend an entire week complaining about it”

oh my god?! are you all purposely trying to make me sad??

someone stop me before I launch into an impromptu rant about all my Tomura feels. WHY IS NOBODY STOPPING ME. oh my god but yes, exactly. he’s just in pain all the time. this is exactly why I think Tomura has such high redemption potential even though so far he seems to lack so many of the redemption arc essentials such as feeling remorse, wanting to change, and taking responsibility for his actions. the reason why I’m willing to overlook all that in his case is because Tomura has essentially had zero agency his entire life. AFO molded him into a killer by making sure he was in constant mental agony, and making it so that the only thing that even slightly relieved that agony was killing peeps. like, please don’t think I’m making excuses for him or anything, but if you take a child and manipulate their existence to make it virtually impossible for that child to grow up as anything other than a killer, and basically never give him the chance to be anything else, then no shit he’s gonna be a killer?? he’s basically never had the choice not to be. it’s never been an option for him. anyways I feel like I am EXPLAINING MYSELF SO BADLY but nonetheless I am prepared to die on this hill

anyway so now Nana is all “that’s a rhetorical question btw because Our Hearts And Minds Are One so we can feel everything you feel bro.” so yeah, that’s interesting

now Banjou is getting started on the “let’s try and talk Deku out of wanting to save Tomura because it’s insane” part of their OFA Mystical Space Void Reunion agenda

look, Banjou, I feel you, I really do. you guys don’t think it’s realistic that Deku can defeat Tomura without killing him. so if it’s a choice between killing Tomura vs letting Deku and everyone else in the entire world die, then duh, you think Deku should kill him. I get it! and if this were a real life mass murderer I’d totally agree with you. but the problem is that this isn’t real life, this is a sympathetic shounen villain with a tragic past who might as well have FUTURE REDEMPTION ARC RECEIPIENT stamped on his forehead at this point

so First is all “look, there’s absolutely no doubt my brother has fucked this kid up good and proper by now”, which, again, fair

though, that’s kind of exactly my point though. everything that Tomura is, everything he’s done, he’s done because of AFO. AFO has so effectively shaped his personality and his worldview by this point that it’s all but impossible to penetrate that. he’s AFO’s puppet. but the problem is that rather than treating him like a victim, you all are treating him like a casualty. like he’s already a lost cause. but good luck trying to convince Deku of that

WHOA WHAT, RANDOM SUPER-IMPORTANT AND BIZARRELY UNRELATED EXPOSITION DROPPED IN JUST LIKE THAT??

way to still not reveal Sixth’s name, btw. THE PEOPLE WANT TO KNOW, DAMMIT. but also so this confirms something we basically already knew already, which is that not even AFO can steal OFA. it literally can’t be taken away by anyone unless the owner wills it. SO SUCK ON THAT AFO YOU EGG

(ETA: so I have no idea why this was omitted from this translation, but apparently the Sixth’s name was revealed as “En”, which is obviously not his full name but at least it’s something. also he most likely has a fire or smoke-related quirk based on the kanji used, 煙.)

so Banjou is saying that Deku’s “lack of an iron will” could be a disadvantage against AFO. hahaha what?? Midoriya “I’ll break all of my bones without blinking an eye just to protect someone” Izuku lacks an iron will? do tell

he says this is going to be a test of Deku’s determination. well yeah, no shit. but just not in the way you guys think

OH HELLO AGAIN

darker hair again here! but I don’t trust the contrast in these scans at all after last week. his coveralls are way darker than they looked before too, and you can clearly see he’s standing in the shadows now

(ETA: yep, once again the raw shows that his hair is considerably lighter than what’s shown in these scans here. although there’s no mistaking now that his hair is consistently being colored in this slightly darker shade, and it’s not just the lighting.)

anyways lol First was saying something about how AFO can’t steal OFA, and they’ve spent all this time cultivating it as the ultimate weapon against AFO, and blah blah blah. go on then, keep lecturing

NANA GODDAMMIT NONE OF THIS IS YOUR FAULT

girl what?? you did everything in your power to protect your family, and AFO, fucked up man that he is, targeted them anyway. there is one person and one person only to blame for what’s happened to Tomura, and that potato-faced asshole needs a good kick in the balls

NANA GODDAMMIT DON’T MAKE ME COME OVER THERE

SO HELP ME GOD!! I WILL GIVE YOU THE BIGGEST HUG YOU’VE EVER HAD!! THAT IS A THREAT

so now Nana is all “I’m just going to call my grandson a Thing to ensure that fandom has only the freshest, grass-fed no-hormones-added discourse this week”

I don’t even need to drop into the tags to know exactly which specific people are going to respond to this, and what kind of posts they are going to write lmao. everyone’s all caught up in the “that thing”, and meanwhile I’m over here completely hung up on this “nay” that’s appeared out of NOWHERE you guys. look at that. she really said “NAY”

Nana, my love, my dearest, I feel you girl I really do. but he’s not an unforgivable manifestation of pure evil, Deku is exactly right actually, he’s a boy in pain. you guys need to stop questioning Deku’s shounen protagonist instincts here and just let him work his sparkly magic. “let’s try and convince Midoriya Fucking Izuku that he can’t save someone” is a plan that is NEVER going to turn out well you guys

“DEKU GODDAMMIT WHAT IF WE CAN’T SAVE HIM” lmao it’s like an intervention

“DAMMIT DEKU JUST ADMIT YOU HAVE A SAVING PEOPLE PROBLEM!”

RED ALERT IT’S ANOTHER CLOSE-UP OF THE BACK OF MISTER TWO BON CLAY’S HEAD OMG

(ETA: I was too distracted with freaking out about Two and Three to really appreciate how ridiculously handsome First looks in this panel. but on my second readthrough it stood out so much that I had to go back and add an extra bullet point just to talk about how hot he is. look at him. wtf.)

THAT IS DEFINITELY AN UNDERCUT. THE PLOT THICKENSSSS. also those are fucking exhaust vents on Mister Three’s neck. MISTER THREE COULD YOU POSSIBLY BE RELATED TO THE IIDAS, PLEASE TELL ME YOUR SECRETS I’M DYING OVER HERE

so now Deku is launching into what will undoubtedly be a “saving people problems require SAVING PEOPLE SOLUTIONS” heroic counter-speech!

I mean, they can already feel the “lol nah I’m gonna try and save him” feelings running through him lol. ~OuR hEaRtS aNd MiNdS aRe CoNnEcTeD~ and all that. this is just a formality, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love a good shounen protag speech

oh wait hold up, do you mean to tell me that the whole “hearts and minds are connected” thing I was just mocking just a paragraph ago actually allowed Deku to feel what Tomura was feeling?? like literally feel it??

YET AGAIN these Tomura feels are pounding on my front door you guys?? they just will not quit?? people my house is already full of feels, does it look like I need you to sell me any more of them?? -- what do you mean, they’re free??

AW YISS THAT’S IT DEKU. THAT’S SOME GOOD SPEECH RIGHT THERE

I appreciate the contrast here between the Douchebag Triumvirate of Overhaul, Muscular, and Stain versus the Misguided Twosome of Gentle and La Brava. never let it be said that Deku doesn’t know the difference between a redeemable villain and an unredeemable one

OH NO -- OH MY GOD

someone please help me I need directions to the OFA Spooky Galactic Nebula Realm in this fictional Japanese manga land. it’s not on google maps. I need to give these two babies a big hug and wrap them up in a blanket and treat them to some McDonalds Happy Meals please help

other things: (1) ENDEAVOR CHILLING OUT IN DEKU’S “PEOPLE I HOLD DEAR” PANEL LMAO NEON DISCOURSE EXTRAVAGANZA, (2) “ONE FOR ALL IS A POWER TO SAVE, NOT TO KILL” I’M ABOUT TO CRY DEKU I LOVE YOU SO MUCH HOW IS IT EVEN POSSIBLE TO FEEL ALL THIS LOVE, (3) [SLAMS HANDS ON TABLE] THERE’S YOUR MOTHERFUCKING IRON WILL!!!!!!!! -- I’m sorry, please don’t call security, I’ll be good

I just randomly remembered that Deku is still saying all of this in his muffled “FMMPHHMMPHMM” voice and I’m somehow cracking up lol. so actually it’s a very good thing Their Hearts And Minds Are Connected, otherwise they’d no doubt be all, “...what?”

(ETA: so I completely missed this on account of it literally not being visible in the scan at all, but in the raw you can clearly see Baby Kacchan and Baby Shouto fanboying over All Might in two of these panels, and excuse me, ma’am??

thank you very much Deku for including them in your montage, particularly since you’ve never seen Baby Shouto before lol. amazingly accurate image you managed to conjure up, all things considered.)

SDKFJLSKHG -- AS IF ON CUE???

HE’S SO ADORABLE HELP?? Trippy Space All Might looks like he’s about to cry, and First is all “don’t crack a smile... you have to be Firm and Serious here... dammit, don’t smile” omg

anyways! YOU GO DEKU. “MY QUIRK MY RULES, BITCHES” damn, son

KLJLKKHLG TRIPPY SPACE ALL MIGHT LITERALLY ACTUALLY IS CRYING ALL MIGHT HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME

“I JUST... [CLENCHES FIST] REALLY LOVE SAVING PEOPLE” FUCKING HELL LMAO THIS IS THE WORST INTERVENTION OF ALL TIME

Deku is literally all “sure, maybe I’ll have to kill him, but have you guys also considered, MAYBE NOT??” it’s no use Nana he’s too powerful

LMAO FIRST

“like I’ve been saying this whole time, you should definitely try saving Shigaraki Tomura.” “but, uh... First, didn’t you just -- ” “shut up”

(ETA: clearly it’s not just his brother who inherited those smooth-talking genes.)

so now Deku has turned back into a sixteen year old and his clothes have gone missing again. just OFA things

dskljdlsklgk

yes... sure... “testing” you...

HEY

FIRST OF ALL, DAMN YOU HORIKOSHI YOU MADE NANA CRY. even if I’m pretty sure they’re actually tears of happiness/relief. and SECOND OF ALL, “TELL MY BOYFRIEND I SAID HI” DJSKDLKJJL ANYWAY MAYBE GRAN, NANA, AND MR. SHIMURA WERE IN A THROUPLE

[SCREAMS]

WHY WOULD YOU END IT THERE?? WHY WOULD YOU END IT THERE!!!!!

(ETA: and two-to-one odds that we cut away to some other scene once they finally start to turn around next week. I’M CALLING IT NOW. giving myself a week to brace myself for the rage.)

fucking hell. well if anyone needs me I will be adding Horikoshi fucking Kouhei to the list of irredeemable villains, peace

[stardustprompts]

the burning god -  r.f kuang   sentence starters change tenses/pronouns as needed !!  some lines have been edited for clarity / length / ease of roleplaying tw :   ptsd ,  addiction , death , murder , nsfw  , language 

‘do you think I’d ever let anything happen to you?’

‘you’re terrified. that’s why you’re fidgeting. you’re scared.’

‘soldiers are worth more than civilians, it’s just math.’

‘don’t cut off the head of the snake if you can tame it.’

‘none of this— our villages, our people, our freedom— will survive under their intended world order’

‘i’m the least terrible option you’ve got.’

‘I don’t mean to call you stupid, because I love you, but that plan is so stupid.’

‘i’m not sorry for this. you shouldn’t have gotten in my way.’

‘that wasn’t an insult. just being frank.’

‘they’re bullies. weakness is what they want to see.’

‘bad moral is a big weapon. don’t underestimate it.’

‘i’ve gotten you this far. trust me just a little longer.’

‘i’m not crazy right? this is clearly a trap?’

‘how do you think history will judge me if I throw away it’s fate for one person?’

‘it felt like you’d put the universe back in place. like you were balancing the scales. didn’t it?’

‘you don’t fix hurts by pretending they never happened. you treat them like infected wounds and then, maybe, you have a chance to heal.’

‘it’s not justice, it’s chaos.’

‘this is a revolution. it’s not a fucking tea party.’

‘cut me a fucking break. i’ve been fleeing for my life.’

‘I shouldn’t have counted on his virtue. but he didn’t count on my survival.’

‘they’re never gone. do you understand? they still come for you in your sleep. only this time they’re dream-wraiths, not real, and there’s no escape from them because they’re living in your own mind.’

‘your pain will always be mine.’

‘i’m not living my whole life like a beast on a leash.’

‘I should kill you. why can’t I kill you?’

‘you don’t behave rationally around her, you never do.’

‘’all right’ is not a term anyone would use to describe you.’

‘I used to hate myself for living, too. I didn’t think it was fair that I’d survived. that others had died in my place.’

‘it’s not fair. I should be in the ground with them.’

‘it doesn’t go away. It never will. but when it hurts, lean into it.’

‘this life you’ve chosen, you won’t get many moments like this again. but it’s the nights like this that keep you alive.’

‘give up, darling. trust me, this is easier. this is so much easier.’

‘you know, I think I’ve figured out where you get all that self - righteousness.’

‘their blood is on you. you killed them.’

‘I hate you. I wish we were all dead.’

‘do you think he loved you? do you think he ever loved you?’

‘this story will end. the way it was always meant to.’

‘I just want to sit for a second. in peace. can I do that?’

‘I don’t know, I thought maybe— maybe they’d realize that they need me.’

‘you are so bad at this. it’s cute.’

‘people are attracted to power, darling. they can’t help themselves. power seduces. exert it, make a show of it, and they’ll follow you.’

‘I killed him. and I don’t feel bad about it.’

‘stop pretending to care about ethics, it’s embarrassing.’

‘at some point, you’ll have to convince yourself that you’re above right and wrong. morality doesn’t apply to you.’

‘fear turns into despair, despair to panic, and then panic into utter submission. it’s incredible, the power of psychological warfare.’

‘knowing what I’ve done? yes, it hurts. unlike anything you could ever imagine.’

‘they want to erase us. they want to make us better, to improve us, by turning us into a mirror of themselves.’

‘any culture or state that diverges is necessarily inferior. we are inferior, until we speak, dress, act, and worship just like them.’

‘people pay you less attention when you don’t leave a trail of bodies in your wake.’

‘i’m just telling you what’s right in front of you. you know I’m right.’

‘you seem to have mistaken me for a dullard.’

‘it’s a tragedy we’re on different sides. you know that. we would have been so good united.’

‘he’s tried a million different things to break me. but he should have remembered he never figured out how.’

‘lost my mind for a bit. just starting to get it back now.’

‘you think we should just surrender. that we’d be better off under their rule.’

‘that’s the implication of your logic. and I won’t accept that. I can’t.’

‘i’m sure you said whatever you needed to to get them off your back. I don’t care about that.’

‘everything you do convinces them you should not exist.’

‘I did what I had to do to give him the only chance at peace he’d ever get.’

‘you are the worst thing to happen to this country. these people deserve better than you.’

‘you were only ever fighting to survive. I was fighting to win.’

‘we don’t need peace right now. we need blood.’

‘I don’t know what’s insane anymore. I just hope you know what you’re doing.’

‘there is no turning back. i’ve waited too long for this.’

‘I can’t take that from him. not even if he’s happier like this.’

‘there’s more, there’s something you’re not telling me, I deserve to know.’

‘let go of the man you remember. you’re never going to get him back.’

‘in times like these, you can’t let sleeping threats lie.’

‘if we ever feared him, it was because he was great, and great rulers always inspire fear in the hearts of the weak.’

‘you don’t get to forget. whatever you did, you don’t deserve to forget.’

‘she’s not a person anymore. she’s rage.’

‘it’s not just about the enemy. it’s about what the world looks like after.’

‘you’re trying to protect your people. I understand that. but I’m trying to protect mine.’

‘i’m not crawling into oblivion with a whimper, and you should have known that before you came here.’

‘I don’t care what else happens up there. but you come back to me.’

‘what’s this? finally developing a conscience?’

‘I know what you did. I know everything. and I don’t care. the past doesn’t matter. ____ is in danger now, and I need you.’

‘nature can’t be altered. only held at bay.’

‘don’t take on the burden of an entire nation. it’s too heavy. and you aren’t strong enough.’

‘you should know by now that when you leave your enemies alive, wars don’t end.’

‘she told me I’ll never be afraid again.’

‘that’s power. and you’re not giving that up. I know you. you’re me.’

‘I know how humiliation feels. keep your secrets if you want. but there’s nothing you can say that will make me think any less of you.’

‘i’m not going to survive this war.’

‘do you want me to say I’m sorry?’

‘what did I tell you? you were never meant to serve.’

‘if you try that shit, I will kill you.’

‘good luck. don’t do anything stupid.’

‘keep down. and when you get the chance, run.’

‘you never want to hurt them. but you have to. you have to put them through hell, because that’s the only way anyone else will survive.’

‘I would have spared them if I could have.’

‘I wasn’t a person to you, I was a weapon, and you needed me to work.’

‘it’ll never stop hurting.’

‘you love them like your own family, and a knife twists in your heart every time you watch one of them die.’

‘see this through to the end. that’s the least you own to the dead.’

‘I wish things had been different.’

‘I so hate when you’re right.’

‘you kill me and you accomplish nothing. your world as you know it will end.’

‘i’m not going to kill you. you don’t deserve that.’

‘why does everyone think this war is over. am I the only one with eyes?’

‘it’s hard to prioritize the enemy that you can’t see.’

‘don’t call me crazy.’

‘you are being crazy. you’re acting like a fucking maniac. shut up for a moment and face the fucking facts.’

‘they can’t do this to me. I was supposed to win.’

‘we built an entire nation. we don’t have to let it collapse.’

‘what he wants is what we all want, which is to stop killing our own people.’

‘we’re about to have the world we fought for. can’t you see it? it’s so close, it’s just over the horizon.’

‘you can come back. I’ll bring you back. we’re in this together.’

‘we’re trying to broker a peace here. let’s not start off with death threats, shall we?’

‘i’m just trying to make this less painful for everyone involved.’

‘you can’t do this for me. I won’t let you.’

‘it’s not for you. it’s not a favor. it’s the cruelest thing I could do.’