#im so determined to get at least a few others done 4 once

[exovissa]

character sheet for my uni project lol

[weretheones]

All You Got | Part 9

Part 9: Bite My Tongue

Plot: Daryl Dixon hadn’t known much beyond anger and loneliness his whole life, until he found family at the end of the world. Everything he grew to care about was ripped away the day the prison fell; so when he recognized you, an enforcer of his loss, hiding in that cabin, he almost pulled the trigger. But after you end up saving his life, he couldn’t find the indifference to leave you for dead, even if you’d been on the Governor’s side. (Mid-Late Season 4)

Series Masterlist | AO3 Version

Paring: Eventual Daryl Dixon x Reader Word Count: 3.2k Warnings: typical twd content. mentions of death. A/N: im done exams! (and I aced them all, yay!) but then I got sick lol. anyway-- I missed you guys. finally finished this. enjoy<3

“We’re gonna win.”

Brian was confident of that. He spoke with an authority bigger than Pete or Martinez ever had, and it spread through the camp like wildfire. After that quick speech, it didn’t take the others any longer than a half hour to get their gear packed. Knives, guns, more bullets than you’d ever seen before. Mitch even started up his tank, taking the last few drops of gas from the reserve. 

If this didn’t work out, if the prison wasn’t the place Brian promised it would be, you weren’t sure if there would be anything to come back to. The camp had been uprooted in those short thirty minutes, a sudden shift into hostility. And it left the small clearing, once untouched by the brutality of the dead, stripped bare. The soft grass trampled as the cars rolled through and the fire pits nothing but ash. You had a feeling that this would be the last time you saw this place; not quite dread, but not the hope and determination that the others seemed to carry, either. 

You watched as they all loaded their guns, brows furrowed and posture firm. A group of survivors, brought together by happenstance, now soldiers. At least, they pretended to be. 

Across the clearing, a pile of ammo boxes sat on a flimsy fold-out table. Emily packed them one by one into a bag, dark hair pulled into a ponytail and a rifle slung across her back. A small smirk snuck across her face as Mitch quipped something for only her to hear. His eyes flickered from his favourite gun to you, and he didn’t dare flinch when he realized you were already staring their way. Emily’s eyes followed not long after, but that cocky—and threatening— expression she faced you with finally made you look away. 

You took a deep breath and tried to ignore the way your skin itched under their devoted attention. That blue tent you were packing wasn't quite distracting enough, so your eyes kept wandering. It didn't take long for you to find the curious Tara sitting on the bench near you. She’d been packing a bag of her own. It was mostly clothes and food. Provisions. The prison was meant to be your new home, after all. 

Tara glanced between them and you, throwing back a mean glare of her own. Their uncomfortable stares slipped away after that, so you gave her a small but grateful smile. She was new— came with Brian’s crew— but a kind face amongst a group that otherwise felt like strangers. People mostly kept to themselves. Prepping for this fight was the highest camaraderie they’d had. Tara wasn’t exactly immune to it— she had been one of the first to volunteer, after all— but, there still seemed to be a hint of hesitation in her eyes. 

While loading her gun, it seemed to hit her the hardest. She sighed, “We do this, maybe we don’t need to fight anymore.” 

You paused from packing up the last of your tent. Maybe she meant the others, maybe she meant the dead. You weren't sure, and you weren't convinced either. 

“Do you really think that?” 

Her brown eyes widened. 

“You don’t?” 

Whatever small bit of defiance you had slipped away then. You practically crawled back into your shell and tucked your tail.

“I dunno,” you mumbled with a weak shrug. 

“Brian said they were bad people. They don’t even deserve that place,” she said with a waver in her voice. 

“I heard what he said.” You continued packing. “I just…” you trailed off when you noticed Lee walking toward the bench— toward you. Behind his figure, Brian had joined Emily and Mitch, barking some instructions that they happily followed. You met Tara’s unconvinced look again, unable to speak toward her subconscious plea; you couldn’t convince her to retreat. This thing was too far gone. 

Lee had a stern look when he finally made it. He stood firm, a rifle of his own in one hand and one for Tara in the other. He dropped it on the table, then looked you up and down. 

“Where’s your gun?” 

“I, uh—” 

He sighed, and you lost your voice again. The raised tensions had shrunk you; that fear meant to mould you into an obedient soldier only made you feel smaller. 

“No more dancing around this shit. If we don’t fight, we die.” 

Lee held out a pistol. 

“So fight.” 

— 

The last few weeks had been filled with a sinking urge to go back and scream that little doubt to the world. Sleepless nights of wishing you’d just said something. Wondering what the hell made you so meek and afraid that you couldn't even question it— him. Not even to a person as reasonable as Tara seemed.

When the time came, you bit your tongue and complied. Nothing would change that. Nothing could.

And now there were no words left. Just a stinging silence of guilt and hurt burning up the air between you and Daryl, until there was almost nothing left. 

After the bus, he kept driving. You had no clue where. Didn’t have the breath to ask, anyway. 

Every inch of you was heavy, discomfort settling in tense muscles. You held your hands in your lap, controlled the rise and fall of your chest to a slow rhythm, and watched the everlasting stretch of road ahead. It all felt forced. Loud. The seconds between blinks, the slow exhales, and your eyes watching anything but him. 

You weren’t sure how to just be next to the man of stone beside you. 

That stiff tension hadn’t let go of him since it first clouded, and that bottle he was stuffing every bit of grief into hadn’t exploded— yet. You could sense it coming. Could feel the cracks splitter as anger festered inside that heavy chest of his, beating like a drum against his ribs, his lungs, his shut mouth. Begging to get out.

God forbid he let that stubborn, stoic facade fall. 

There hadn’t been a single word since. Only a silent agreement to pile back in the car and then… whatever this was. The bridge of trust between you, padded with fresh bandages and unwavering loyalty, was catching flame. And you could feel Daryl slipping. Feel his grip around your hand loosen as he inched closer to that edge. 

Maybe you weren’t strong enough to hold him, after all.

The sun dipped behind the horizon. Those last golden rays reminded you how sweet the day had started. A brief escape. Dusk stole that kindness and the casual cruelty of this new world weaved its way back in. By the time Daryl finally pressed on the break, the sky had tinted a dark blue. But it wasn't dark enough to stop yet.

You glanced up, eyes still foggy, and tried to settle your vision on the issue ahead. It was like breaking out of a daze— an uncomfortable, suffocating daze that dragged on with every beat of silence. But you couldn’t come up for air just yet. There was another problem to solve first, like always. 

This time it wasn’t a bus, but a large branch blocking your way. The bark was rotted and smaller sticks scattered around. The leaves were dead and dry as bone, and the bigger tree to the left had a stark revelation of lighter wood. The branch must’ve snapped off when the weight got too heavy to carry, some time ago.

Pulled from that daze, you finally had the strength to look at Daryl and with that single glance, you could feel how close he was to snapping, too. White knuckle grip around the steering wheel, lips sewn shut, and narrowed eyes surrounded by tired rings of purple. He looked like a different version of himself. Like Daryl, but muted. Without that slight smile to match it, the curious look in his eye felt cold.

And you swore there was a hint of animosity, too.

He quickly got out of the car and approached the blockage without a word, his crossbow, or you. Only the knife on his hip. 

Not everything had changed; you slowly followed, like usual, and Daryl didn’t waste time. He stomped down on a thicker branch, throwing the broken debris toward the tree line. Again and again. You helped move a couple, but there was a fierce force, built of fury and sorrow, in his work that you simply couldn’t keep up with. He was much faster— angrier— and he’d already moved on to the heavier branches. 

Too heavy. And for the first time since the bus, he let a hint of emotion show: pain. Physical, you’d bet, from the wince that slipped past his tight jaw. His shoulder was still tender, and moving the bodies earlier had already made it swell. 

“Hold up.” 

He ignored those small first words. Ignored the care that rooted them, too. 

Halfway between the rest of the blockage and the forest, you dropped the branch you were moving when he picked up another heavy one. Daryl was plenty stubborn as it was, but the heartbreak from the bus’ loss made him reckless, too. 

“You’ll hurt yourself,” you insisted.

“‘M fine.” 

Ironically, his grip slipped from the branch then. The wood dropped, thumping against the cracking concrete below. That short moment of relief invited your hand to softly land on his good shoulder, a gentle reassurance that you were there to help. 

You barely got out his name before he yanked back. 

“Get your hands off’a me.” 

His rough bark forced you a step back, eyes blown wide with shock and glued on that angry blue in his. Maybe you seemed composed, with that firm stance and even breaths, but it felt like your blood had gone cold in an instant. You had no choice but to stand there and wait for the dust of his outburst to settle. All while your heart was slamming against your ribcage so hard you wondered if it could bruise.

And Daryl seemed to notice it; in that split second, he let his eyes flicker from your shocked and hurt expression to your fingers that wouldn’t stop shaking. After that, he wouldn’t meet your stare.

You watched those angel wings, frayed at the seams, as he picked up the log again. 

There could be virtue in silence. You knew that— but the last few weeks had instilled an urgency in you. A type of anxiety you’d never felt before, second-guessing every moment you let pass. And against perhaps better judgment, you whispered.

“Please. Don’t do this.” 

Daryl knew you didn’t mean the branch anymore. 

He stilled. Shoulders stiff and rigid. At first, you weren’t sure if that meant it had been the right thing or not, but then he dropped the log and turned around, and you certainly knew. 

That look was back again. Mean and abrasive. Only that time, you swore you could see through it— see the pain that manifested into anger just beyond those narrow blue eyes. 

“You don’t ever let up, do ya?” He stepped closer, face reddening and tone cutting. “Told ya ‘m fine.” 

“You don’t seem it.”

“The hell you know ‘bout it?” he snapped.

You swallowed. A painful burn caught in your chest, right where that soothing trust and care had made its home. 

“Rick and that woman,” you practically pleaded, “I told you I saw them, they could’ve—” 

“Right,” he scoffed. 

Whatever anger was stoking that fire inside of him seemed to double at your words. Maybe you didn’t know Daryl as well as you thought because you certainly weren’t saying or doing the right things. 

“And how the hell we gonna find ‘em?” 

“I— I don’t know but there has to be something left—” 

“They’re dead,” he sneered. 

“You don’t know that.” 

“I know your people were huntin’ ‘em down.”

Your face fell.

“Finishin’ what y’all started, huh?” 

Maybe you didn’t know his anger. You’d never been good with that, anyway. People seemed to be set off by you; Mitch, Emily. But Daryl knew you. He proved it, right then, as the aftermath of his words burned worse than any cut could.

He always saw you right down to the damn bone. Could pick you apart with his bare hands if he wanted. Even if you had tried to hide the anguish of the knife he stuck in your gut— “your people”— he would’ve seen through it. So you let the confusion, the shock, and the regret, all surface.

Of course, he saw it. Your reaction— your pain. The way you didn’t even try to mask it. Silence stretched, only Daryl’s heavy breaths and a soft breeze of the wind. And as the seconds passed, without a retort to fill the tense air between you, the intensity of that mean stare flickered out like the candles you once warmed the cabin with. But that hint of regret was nothing more than a bandaid over a stab wound; it didn’t soothe the gut-wrenching ache that was reaching up around your throat or prickling your eyes with tears. 

Screw saying the right thing. 

“We have no idea if they ever even came across one of your friends.” You stepped forward, but you couldn’t stop the shake in your voice or hands. “And they are not my people. I killed them, or did you forget?” 

Fire was still burning the tip of his tongue, cruel words threatening to rip free, and if it’d been a year ago, they would’ve. But now, glaring at your thin expression and the glimmer of pain in your eye, he hesitated. 

You took that time to make another point, even firmer than the last. 

“You’re wrong.” 

He didn't curse you out, but his exhausted scoffed was almost as insulting.

“You just saw your people dead, Daryl. You’re scared and—“ 

“I ain't scared’a nothin’,” he growled. 

You bit your lip. God, he was stubborn. 

Stubborn, fiery, and hurt. 

You peeled back, drowning out the throbbing pain of that wound in your own chest with a heavy dose of empathy, and reiterated slowly, “You’re wrong.” 

Another breeze of wind rushed past the two of you, drifting through that shrinking space between his heaving chest and your assertive stare. 

It carried a rustle in the trees too, one that localized on a spot of shifting branches and fluttering leaves to your left.

Daryl looked first.

The break of his glare welcomed a slight ease to that thick air. You took a deep breath and steadied yourself as a walker broke through the woods. Its yellow eyes were already targeted at the fleshy, warm body of the man who’d lead it there, with those lively lungs and sharp tongue. 

He approached the walker with that same heaviness about him. Perhaps it was the weight of your lingering stare across his back. His arm raised with the knife, then stabbed. Just as the body did, his shoulders slumped. Head bowed as he stared at the crumpled corpse a second too long.

In that same second, your throat tightened, and the tears threatened to spill again. A devastating ache formed in your chest because you could practically see Daryl's resolve crumble. From the bus’ discovery to the roadblock to this— losing every last bit of hope, slowly but surely, until even that trust and care, built over nights by candlelight and soft promises to fix your wrongdoings, to fix his shoulder, to fix him, felt dull.

You thought of the forgiveness he’d once spared, only to be pulled right back down into that festering pit of ugly guilt and regret. 

Blame. 

Daryl took his time to clean the blade of dark blood before sheathing it. And as the moment stretched, staring at the broad shoulders you’d patched up over and over, your thoughts began to pick up speed. Worries drumming your heart against your ribs, again. 

You swallowed, shook your head as if it might clear, and climbed into the driver’s seat. But the unease followed— it always did. 

What if this was it? 

In the rearview mirror, you caught sight of the dead walker lying on the road. Daryl’s hunched figure missing. And the race of your heart came to a lurching stop, then. 

Would he really—?

The passenger door opened. Without a word, he sat, and your heart started again. 

No. 

He wouldn't. 

You steered through the new opening, tires crunching the remnants of branches, and continued down the clear road ahead.

It was quiet again. This time, though, you weren't fidgeting in your seat or dying to get a glance at the man beside you. No. You just drove until the stars came out.

The side of the road was as good a spot as any, you thought. Daryl didn’t seem to have an objection, either; his mouth was still in that same pensive line when you finally turned toward him. His elbow rested on the edge of the window as he chewed on his thumb, heavy eyes fallen. There was no doubt he could feel your stare burn into his side, that he heard you turn, or could feel the tension heighten as you waited for him to meet your look. But he wouldn’t, for whatever reason. 

Would your tired expression, dwindled from weeks of guilt, trauma, and physical exhaustion, set him off again? Or would it break him down, deeper? 

With nothing more than a heavy sigh, you fell against the headrest. You stared into the dark world ahead, only visible by the short reach of the car’s interior light. It burned your eyes, shining down at the nasty, ugly tension that had settled between you and the man you trusted so fiercely.

You turned off the light.

“It's my turn for first watch.” 

Even in the dark, you could see his hand finally drop from his chin. His arm stretched, resting across the window ridge. 

“Ain’t tired.” 

He finally spoke. Two little words that made you tighten your grip around the steering wheel in a split second of frustration. You finally had the voice to speak, after years of biting your tongue, and yet… you had no idea what you needed to say. 

Want was another story. Because even after everything, good and bad, there was no reason you deserved that jab about the gas station. Not when it’d been you that pulled him, bloody and half dead, from that mess. That nursed him back to health and never said a word about his loose lips, spilling regrets about his own (failed) search for the Governor. Never asked him that dreaded thought that’d been lingering in the back of your head— if he’d only forgiven you for the prison because he was too busy blaming himself. 

You wanted a lot. Wanted to go back and change the way things played out. To save more people, to find Daryl and the prison before it fell, to— 

But you were tired. Too tired for wants, tonight. 

“Fine,” you sighed. “Wake me up when you are.” 

-> part 10

A/N: so uh. this part was oddly hard to finish, even if I knew exactly what I wanted to happen. but its done! and I hope y'all liked it. its def sad to see them fighting again, after everything :'(

if you’re reading this, thank you! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. please feel free to leave feedback, it helps so much and I love to read it. have a lovely day <3

[imaginesofeverykind]

Witches Brew ~ Chapter 4

Summary: To practice magic is to slight God with the devil's embrace. It is evil, sin, consuming and the price one pays is never worth what one seeks. Yet people, in times of desperation often turn to desperate measures, in Aegon’s case, medicinal remedy is not an option. No healer can undo what has been done. But the Hag tucked away behind reeds, water topped with algae and the voracious bog may be able to. For a price.

Warnings: Blood and Gore, Character Death, catholic-centric monotheism demonised

Tags: DnD Fusion AU, Targaryens are noblefolk, Aegon is a werewolf.

Word Count: 6.1k

Chapter Song: ‘O’Death’ Theme (Until Dawn Soundtrack) - Jeff Grace, Amy Van Roekel

SORRY THIS IS TWO WEEKS LATE !!! I literally got slammed at work two weeks in a row, i did so much OT and im SORRY but here she is yall :’(((((

Series Masterlist

You’re Back. The void bringing a sense of unnerving, and much like it had been the previous time — overstimulated the senses tenfold like a barrage of everything all at once. You move, but there is no feeling of your legs carrying you, just that you have moved from point to point with no memory of getting there. It was a more disorienting form of how you materialize from one place to the other, except in the prime realm you knew where you were going.

Here, there was nothing to determine a position or place other than the faint sense of knowing you weren’t in the same place. A droning of magical song ebbs and flows, louder or softer depending on whichever direction you appear to be going. Perhaps spirits are reaching out or even the Gods, faintly you recall Auntie speaking in hushed whispers whenever she reached out to Syrrelio, God of Blood, and think for a moment that this may be his domain.

Though you wait, there is no voice calling from the great beyond, no divine message flowing through you or even a presence to indicate a greater celestial presence. There was something, however. A beacon of warmth beckoning you in the void, barely detectable but the heat was like being in close proximity of a large fire during a winter blizzard.

Finally, the small glimmer of light sparkles like a flare against the abyssal backdrop of pitch black darkness. At first you think your eyes are playing tricks on you, but it flickers again and there is an instant and urgent pull to go to whatever has your attention. An exit from this madness? Maybe so, but it was an answer you would not get this visit.

A violent and abrupt flash of light from the sun’s spotty beams cutting through the trees of the kitchen window jerk you back to the prime realm. There is a moment of utter confusion as you take in the surroundings with care, the hut remains in tact and in normal shabby condition, but the cause of confusion is that you are standing over the table with a sprig of dried Goodberry clutched in your hands hovering over the Mortar and Pestle.

Strange.

These… episodes… weren’t something brought on by sleeping it seemed. They were involuntary, like someone - or better yet - something was trying to send a message. It was only slightly unnerving to say the least, but shakily you continued on creating the healing brew like you weren’t just psychically accosted by an unseen force or entity.

The days were short but slowly dragged on a little later each day, now that Dead Winter’s Day had been to pass. Snow was still falling in excess, marking a relatively relentless bitter winter as the trees of the swamp withered and the bottle brush shrubs discoloured from frostburn. It wasn’t just the cold that swept through the dreary feeling across the swamp, you could sense that despite restoring Ornmirs shrine it had not settled the spirit.

Her unstable energy seemed to entice more malevolent creatures to the area, Stirges were now the least of your problems.

Your current problem required more attention — this evenings full moon was a mere few hours away judging by the soft sweeping darkness encasing the swamp and Aegon was yet to arrive. Since he started coming to see you he had been relatively punctual, often arriving midday at the earliest or mid-afternoon at the latest but never this close to dark.

It deeply concerned you, more than expected and it only slightly embarrassed you. The deep inner voices within your mind were at a battle, one half expressing urgent distress and beckoning to go and investigate, the other half was trying its best to reason and that there was nothing to worry about.

Today, it seemed, anxiety was much louder than reason. That paired with the unpleasant feeling that twisted inside your gut was reason enough for you to throw on your cloak and disappear into nothing, appearing back in reality inside the Fortress that overlooked Oldtown. He’d be beside himself if he hurt anyone, is what you tell yourself to not feel flustered and to justify why you’re going to him. Deep down you know he cared little for those inside the stony fort, only his siblings had the privilege.

Your hood concealed a great deal of your face and the cloak hid the rest of your attire, aware that you didn’t exactly look like the typical local roaming. It was disturbingly quiet which was odd enough considering it was renowned for housing belligerently loud swordsmen and knights.

And yet, as you cross the courtyard with a purpose it was as quiet as a chapel. Your eyes scanned the few people, some were holy men, some were servants and others were simple folk or traders but not a single notable individual in sight. Time was not on your side, as you give the darkening sky a despondent look before quickly making haste to the West Wing of the building.

Living quarters were located within the West Wing and if Aegon had any sense, he’d have locked himself in his room lest he be set loose to attack any ignorant wanderer. The lack of people around may have been a blessing in disguise, making things easier to lurk around without fear of being caught.

Most of the holy men were headed to the East Wing, where you had to assume the inbuilt chapel was since for the last three corridors you only passed servants who looked at you with curious glances but said nothing or alerted anyone. This corridor in particular inlaid carved stone, a garish green rug trailed from end to end with golden accents and the holy symbol of their false god reminded you how much you despised their religion.

The thought had barely registered in your head, softly stepping on the carpet and past a door that was half open.

”— and what of Aegon?”

Hearing his name pricked your ears and forced you to come to a stop, the voice was raspy, struggling to speak and airy. Viserys, was the first thought that came to your head, shocked slightly at how quickly he sounded to be deteriorating. You lean against the carvings that lined the door, not caring to look up and inspect whatever lavish artistry has been wasted on accenting what amounted to a door hole.

“If I may speak plainly, my Lord… Aegon… he is a sinner.” Another voice, older but more confident. A priest. You think, a holy devoted man. “He has been unfit to take over long before you became ill, you must know this, your Lady wife knows this.”

Your eyes flicker to the window, the sky darkening with each moment, you have little time to waste but find it difficult to step off from the wall you leant against, wanting to hear what was being said while Aegon was absent. From the stories he has vaguely revealed, you piece together that this can’t be very pleasant —.

”—Devil work is at play, are we to ignore what Ser Criston reported back… The hag of the swamp may be gone but she has left a younger in her stead. A younger, might I add that Aegon has been seen visiting every month.” A stern female voice snapped imperiously, ah, you stop to focus, Alicent.

“There is no charge, no proof, we can’t simply abscond the witchling or trial her.” The priest grew weary by the sounds of things. This discussion had been happening for a long while before you happened to stop by and eavesdrop. “Though… we may still be able to help Aegon. A procedure a higher devout can perform, through the word of God, to banish any and all devils that possess a human.”

The silence was thick, almost as though there was a fourth person speaking amongst the three until it was broken, “send one of the stablemen to Durrenden, I want Aegon back here tonight for the procedure. I also want Ser Criston sent to the swamp bitches abode and have her apprehended for maleficium, devil craft, seduction and heresy. She has poisoned my son long enough, I want her burnt in the square.”

A threat against your very being didn’t seem to spark fear within you like it should have, it had quite distinctly the opposite effect, a giddy smirk tugged at the corners of your lips. You’d never been a part of a witch hunt before and it sounded rather exhilarating.

“She is right, I will not have another of my children marr this house with shame. Do what must be done,” Viserys weary and tired seemed to want to put an end to the conversation - or arguing - you weren’t entirely sure.

You make a face, once again feeling that you should be fearful or somewhat scared but instead find the ordeal quite amusing. Mayhaps the confidence in Lady Alicents imperious tone about your persecution was what tickled at your humour. Auntie was sure to have cackled if she were present, but the nagging feeling stirring within drew your smirk down to a thin line.

Aegon could not be taken tonight, that was of utmost importance — The nebulous ‘procedure’ the holy man spoke of did well to cause unease within, if anything about this religion was clear is that many of this belief did horrendous acts to justify and uplift their false idol.

Durrenden. The small village southwest of Oldtown, bordering the edge of the swamp was all you seemed to know of it, not being the one you occasionally pass through for fresh produce. But Alicent’s comment on sending their Holy Knight there gave answer to why the Fortress was so barren of life, as to why Aegon and the swordsmen were down there, remained a mystery.

With little time left you close into yourself, disappearing within a blink and reappearing on the outer edges of the swamp. Durrenden a short walk, silhouetted by the sun that had begun descending behind it, haloing golden edges around the small huts and buildings. Temporary battlements had been set up, tents scattered close to the town's walls and many swordsmen wearing the insignia of their God.

One might think they were ready for war, though you had no time to ask or answer hypotheticals inside your head. Time was running low if the colour of the sky was any indication. Hurried in stride and purposeful with your steps, Durrenden surrounded you quickly with its townsfolk sneering and occasional swordsman wearily casting gazes. None of the strangers blurring past you had violet eyes nor silver locks of hair which caused unsteady panic to brew within, there was a small voice in the back of your mind that cast doubt. What if he was already at the hut? Perhaps he snuck away without anyone seeing him, but the surplus of men and eyes around indicated that the task may be unfeasible.

The steady stream of armored men flowing to and from the village tavern served as a good starting point, remembering Aegon mentioning that he’d sneak into the Howling Keep (a poor mans tavern) in Oldtown. The naming convention humoured you greatly at the time, though Aegon grimaced and looked at you with a deadpan expression.

You push open the Oak doors, not caring for the two patrons you cut off by doing so causing a slight commotion. Everyone within turned their heads and fell silent once their gaze fell on you — from head to toe not a single thing about the attire you adorned or markings drawn into your skin indicated you were a commoner or local.

Scanning the room, your eyes fell on a pair of violet ones, familiar but not Aegon’s. They were deeper violet, one slightly off colour and colder, narrowed down to a cautious glare. Aemond. Dressed in dark leathers, chain mail glinting from beneath the studded black vest with a different insignia. Not a symbol of their God but a house crest. A Three-Headed Dragon.

“Where is he?” You demand, disregarding all others in the tavern, speaking to him as though you were the only two in the room.

He is still for a moment, though you aren’t able to decipher if he’s wanting to argue back or is merely conflicted in aiding you. As far as you were aware he had at least a vague idea of what occurred on full moons, and must know that was the reason for your intrusion. Yet, he hesitates.

Two swordsmen step forward before he holds a hand out and dismisses them, there is a soft grumble in displeasure while he strides toward you. He brushes past you, heading back out the way you came, and you follow quietly behind him. Many of the locals and swordsmen watch with attentiveness, judgment passing through their cold glares as if you were on your way to lead Aemond to eternal damnation right before their eyes.

Neither of you exchange discussion as there was little need to do so, yet the question of why Lord Targaryen’s men were out in Durrenden as though an invasion was due hung at the tip of your tongue. It never passes your lips, even as he leads you to one of the larger tents, the same house crest embroidered on the tent door.

Inside, unlike sleeping quarters like you anticipated to see, there sat a large cage manned by a single guard. Within it, Aegon sat slumped against one of the bars in some type of drunken stupor though his pained groans carried to your ears instantly. The cage is far too large for something like a lycanthrope, your first thought followed by, they’re going after Ornmir.

Your question was finally answered but there was much too little time to reprimand Aemond and the men of the battalion. In a quick sweep, you fade from beside the younger brother and appear beside Aegon who hadn’t quite processed your arrival just yet. “Apologies, we must make haste — I don’t have time to explain,” your voice is softer than you expected, voice cradling him as though he were an injured animal.

He looks up at you, eyes half lidded but attentive when they search your face. Sweat beaded down his forehead, down past his flushed cheeks, “bumble,” he whispers in a drunken slur and it takes you a moment to realize he is addressing you.

“I’ve nothing to give for the pain,” you fumble with the pouch on your belt before gently placing a hand at the base of his neck to cradle his head and the other to grip his arm tightly. You cast a pointed look at Aemond before your surroundings fade away, no longer encaged and inside a tent but now surrounded by dozens of trees on an old faded trail. The furthest south of the Swamp, knowing it was too risky to return to the hut.

It seemed as though you had mere minutes to spare, the sky no longer streaked with orange and yellow, completely covered in darkness with the moon rising over the horizon.

***

Faint mildew and damp earth fill your nostrils as you awaken, there is initial panic when your eyes fly open to surroundings that weren’t the decrepit interior of your abode. Condensation dripping from rocky walls subtly glimmering in the flickering light of a waning lantern, you are reminded where you have taken temporary refuge.

Everywhere ached, the muscles around your shoulders and neck yearned for some tension release while your legs felt stiff from a night of keeping the wolf entertained. Surprisingly, Aegon being inebriated hadn’t done much to effect the transformation or behaviour from your observations aside from a comment he made after dawn broke and he laid on the swamp ground, chest rising and falling after shakily becoming normal again.

“My fucking head,” was all he groaned before promptly passing out. A massacred hand resting atop his forehead as though that would do much to alleviate his pain.

Now, his breaths were simple and consistent like any other noise within the deep cave you chose as sanctuary. His head rested on your lap for lack of a proper bed for him to rest and gain some strength back — at least that's what you tell yourself. Nevermind you are aimlessly combing fingers through his hair, detangling the ends riddled with sweat and blood.

It must have been mid afternoon when he stirred awake, eyes fluttering open to take in the surroundings. You had half expected him to sleep for the entire day and well into the night, looking down on him you offer a smile in the dimly lit cave. A flourish of one hand and murmur an incantation, materialising four orbs of light that float nearby to brighten the area.

“You came for me,” He croaks, voice crackly no doubt from straining it the night prior, turning his head in your lap to look up at you. The first thing he says is not to question where you had taken him, he trusted you without question and this statement wasn’t lost on you whatsoever.

There was something very innocent in the moment and perhaps it had been the fact you were still raking fingers through his hair despite it had long been detangled.

Casting your gaze downward it was becoming increasingly more difficult to ignore the feelings that stirred within, no matter how hard you tried to reason that it was something else entirely. You cared for him. The revelation should not be one that is shocking, half a year in tending to him would indicate this truth and yet it still shook you to the core.

Loneliness was a bitter thing, you had plenty of loneliness over the course of your life that it seem only fair to rid yourself of it.

”An unfortunate twist in fate has me caring for you, it seems,” you admit dryly, feeling lighter and less wound up upon saying the words aloud. “A most ill-fated outcome considering it is I who put this burden on you.” A sardonic smile mocking your own misfortune, of course it would be fated that the cure to loneliness would be in the form of a man you had inflicted a most painful blight upon.

He is silent for a moment, so still that you'd have thought he fell back asleep if it weren’t for his attentive violet eyes looking up at you, he finally says, “I tried to leave them at the road before Durrenden — They wouldn’t let me.”

”So they encaged you?”

“No,” he smiles meekly, “that was after I stole two carafes of wine from our reserve.” A flash of something must have passed through him causing the corners of his lips drop, eyes suddenly dimming with resignation as he looks away for the first time, “I thought if I was too drunk to feel anything I wouldn’t be in pain.”

Stupid. You admonish silently, but your chest tugs at the words of a man who simply wishes for the pain to fade. It was the first time you considered that he isn’t just talking about the pain of transformation. Without jostling him around too much, you reach into the small pouch off to the side and pull out a small phial, the best you can offer considering you weren’t in the hut.

After passing it over to him wordlessly you sigh and look around the cave, “your family’s Knight was sent to fetch you, the holy man mentioned to your mother a procedure to ‘purge you of sin’.”

”You went to the castle?” He asks, sitting up as though he were startled by the notion. Wincing at the sudden movement, he steadied himself on the wall beside you. At some point between your fated first meeting and now, he stopped complaining or questioning whenever you handed him things to consume. Since there was little resistance when you handed him a small bottle of sanguine liquid.

”To look for you,” a simple answer and yet it still caused your stomach to flutter, “your mother seems to be of the belief I have corrupted you with devil work… I wasn’t aware she was so… pious.” As amusing as a witch hunt sounded to you yesterday, it felt more cumbersome in reality and you had only really been forced into hiding for a mere day.

Your words struck him as amusing, a dry laugh falling from his cracked lips and you curse yourself for not thinking to get water amongst the hubbub of yesterday. “In the bigger picture, you have done little to push me into the devil’s clutches, my lady.” He addresses you, as if a highborn and not a witch of the woods or at the very least; a Commoner. The phrase catches you by surprise, so much so there is a physical reaction akin to a slight recoil. It sounded foreign to hear it, but you didn’t hate it.

A connection in your head seems to click, instantaneously dismissing what you were going to say about what he called you and in comes a flood of thoughts so incredibly obvious that you are almost ashamed to say anything about it now. But, your mouth moves much quicker than your mind and a sharp, “oh gods,” falls from your lips.

He stares at you, looking embarrassed as if you were lambasting his choice of words but that couldn’t be further from the truth. “I might — well it is possible to relieve you of this curse but the chances may not be in our favour.” It wasn’t some magical cure out of nowhere and it wasn’t without risks involved but if done right it could be done.

There’s confusion etched into his facial features, for that you couldn’t blame him, “but this is a blood curse —,”

”It is not a cure, per se…” Trying to find the words seemed difficult, especially ones that wouldn’t be insensitive, “if you recall this ailment was imparted onto Aemond and I moved the curse. Blood curses attach themselves to the essence of a person which is why they can be moved to family members — which is why I could rid him of it.”

”Be that I dislike my brother, I do not wish for him to suffer monthly —“

“Sibling blood is closer entwined than other familial relatives but much like I restored Aemonds eye, I could attempt to move the curse to someone else… someone who is already on the cusp of death.” It would be all too easy to say his name aloud, but there was a part within your aware conscience that felt it rather evil for suggesting second hand patricide.

Though you needn’t say his name, Aegon understood wholeheartedly, “Viserys.” Not ‘Father’, not a hint of endearing or love in his tone. The relationship between father and son had long severed before you had waylaid the noble family with magic interference all those months ago. It may have not been your intent to send the Lord to an early grave, the fates seemed to have planned for it anyway.

You just hoped they planned for him to suffer one last time.

There was an already inherent distaste for the man, one that was imparted to you from Aunties bias but it only increased tenfold when Aegon would regale you with stories of how absent and horrible of a man Viserys seemed despite the public opinion being otherwise. How does a man have five children and only care for one? Even for that one child, the care presents as thinly veiled kindness at best from what you’ve heard.

He mulls over the idea, you can sense his hesitancy to answer and it is something you don’t hold over him considering what you are suggesting could be coercive murder in the eyes of the church.

“Forgive me, if I spoke out of turn.” You say softly, smiling at him as if silently understanding the conflict within him. If anyone had been present to hear such blasphemy you were most definitely not avoiding the accusations of being a harbinger of chaos and devil whisperer.

”No,” he shook his head, there was uncertainty in whether he was denying your suggestion or if he disagreed that you’d stepped over a line. Even you were self aware enough of how bad it sounded, but over the course of half a year the two of you seemed to slowly understand the inner machinations of one another enough to know when something was laced with malicious intent or not. While he understood to a degree your distrust and ire toward the head of his family, he has never had reason to believe that you worked with an ulterior motive. Initially, perhaps, but now? No.

”I want to say yes,” he begins, a pained look within his eyes laden with guilt, “but what option remains for me? I am his eldest son. He is destined to pass, sure. But my path lay already ahead of me. To become Lord of the city regardless of if I’m afflicted by a curse or not. This —,” he gestures to himself, riddled with grime and filth, “— this is physical pain but no matter my options I will suffer.”

The strain in his voice gave quite a clear indication that he was hesitant to be so vulnerable, not for a lack of trust, it seemed as though the cause for his trepidation simply grew from a lack of someone around to listen to his complaints. You tactfully reach over and clasp his hand. Entwined it was easy to see how the dirt and muck complimented one another on each hand with wayward splatters and streaks like paintings on parchment.

He seldom spoke of duty, opting to spit in the face of it whenever the topic broached but you knew what lay ahead of him when the inevitable arrival of death comes to consume Viserys. A strange custom, you noted. Many families had long abandoned succession through eldest offspring, a handful of Lords (Targaryens included) seemed to keep the tradition, whether it be in honour of tradition or it aligned religiously though you were unsure of.

To be a Lord and be ailed with something as unforgiving as Lycanthropy would become harder to hide, a bigger burden, one that would turn the devout folk on him in an instant. Public opinion on the man beside you, already sat lower than the other siblings, in a cruel string of fate it almost feels as though he were destined to fail.

“But you are second to oldest, what of your sister?” You ask.

“Rhaenyra?” His voice was laced with surprise, he spoke very little of her and though you never prodded further there was uncertainty of if he held disdain toward her and that had been the reason for his little mention of her or if there was something else. “He may love her more than the rest of us but she will never inherit after what she’s done to the family.”

I will not have another of my children marr this family with shame. Viserys had said this the previous day, now with context it seemed to make sense. You were in no position to question further and you didn’t, though little pieces of information you’d gathered over the months fell into place, albeit disjointed but nonetheless sensical.

The oldest of the siblings, born to a different mother was free-spirited and rather outspoken, if the rumours of the common folk were to be believed then she ran off with Viserys’ brother and her Uncle for love. You���d initially taken the slighted gossip with a pinch of salt but could think of no other reason Rhaenyra could bring shame to such a proud and religious family.

You spare Aegon a look, not pitiful or full of sorrow and despair but one that was at least hopeful.

“If you ever wish to disappear, far from here, say the words and I will make it happen.” A grim solution, but it was the only thing you could think about that would keep Aegon’s conscience intact with the least amount of bodies in the process.

“Threat of death? After all this time? Here I was beginning to think you tolerated me,” he found it within himself to jest, a smile on his lips that etched into your mind long after he turned away sullenly, “I couldn’t… I can’t leave them.”

The unspoken burden of the oldest remaining sibling weighs heavy on him, you have come to learn many things about Helaena and Daeron in passing comments or quips. Aemond fiercely sits in the peripheral of your thoughts often when you think of Aegon and wonder how different things may have been if you didn’t help Aemond.

“I tolerate you no more than a crocodile tolerates a drowning wildebeest in his river,” you jest, suppressing a coy smile. You squeeze his hand reassuringly and as if responding to a question, he squeezed yours in return. “Threat of death is not so awful, death is not the end we believe it to be,” you muse, eyes cast down the expansive cave mouth, a very characteristically cryptic moment from you.

Down the cave, a seemingly tiny dot in the distance was your only indicator of an exit, a light that specified the sun's bright rays was what awaited you when it was time to leave the soggy cavernous hole.

Deep rumbling shudders through the cave, a great force rippling through the ground no different to how an earthquake unmistakingly rips through the earth indiscriminately. Though it is a force of nature, it is not what one might think as queit relief washes over you. Aegon looks to you in search of an answer or reaction, you remain unbothered and look to him with a sincere smile, “you’re a good man, Aegon… I only wish for others to see you the way I do.”

He is stunned a moment, possibly wondering where that came from as you were thinking the same but he looks past you and back nervously, “this isn’t the moment where you leave me at the mercy of whatever thing has crawled in here?”

You laugh and shake your head, a sound so foreign to even you it was a wonder how you managed to share a space with Auntie who was decidedly humourless for so many years. “This cave may be Ornmir’s own domicile but she won’t hurt you, and I won’t leave you here either… I believe it isn’t safe to return to the hut. Your holy knight might still be on the lookout for you and I’d prefer you rest before I release you back to those den of wild dragons.”

What you wanted to say more than anything was, stay, stay here with me and never go back to the wretches who seek to ruin you. But it was hard, hard to even admit that first and foremost and hard to be so vulnerable with someone. Auntie kept you at arms length always as if preparing you for the inevitable time she left you, feeling attached to someone always seemed forbidden.

But with Aegon, it was easy. So easy it was terrifying.

“What are you thinking about?” He asks quietly, when you turn to him his eyes are already trained on your face as if trying to pry into your very thoughts.

The words can’t form in your mouth, the admission that perhaps loneliness wasn’t what fulfilled you any longer refused to leave your mouth so you search for another answer quickly. Despite not finding a way to express your inner thoughts you find your body leaning in toward him, hands cupping the sides of his face and pressing your forehead against his in a manner that was more intimate than expected.

Noses brushing against one another, your eyes look down at the curve of his cheeks from the smoothest point to where his stubble had started to break through.

“Let me make this right,” you promise, thumbs brushing softly over his cheeks, “the least I can do is try and take away the curse I put on you. I cannot cure the ailments of the future but I can undo my own wretched infliction.”

“Okay,” he breathes out in a voice so small you wouldn’t hear it if it weren’t for his breath lightly fanning your face. “What about you?” He asks almost painfully, and you selfishly think it’s at the thought of the monthly visits coming to a stop.

”You are no stranger, I wish for you to visit on your own terms, not because you’re forced too.”

“Okay.” He says again, hands coming up to sit atop yours over his face.

The two of you remain there for an uncertain amount of time, you don’t fully recall disengaging from the embrace but you do. Quietly going over the plan for the evening, you stated many times throughout that the likelihood of success was slim and the results wouldn’t bear its fruit until a month away, but you’d be damned if you were going to at least try.

Aegon assured you he was well rested and in fact argued he should accompany you. Him joining was not the problem, it was the prospect of his mother or holy knight finding him before you could finish the ritual. There was little else you could do to convince him otherwise as he held onto your hand firmly when you whisk the both of you away through darkness and into the Fortress.

Night had fallen a couple of hours prior, the sun no longer commanding the skies but the moon. Her rays of silver cascaded through stained glass and created prismatic shapes of colour on the carpet below your feet as they quietly roamed the West Wing corridor together. Aegon still held onto your hand.

Much like it had been the day prior, it was desolate bar from the occasional servant who eyed the two of you but made no comment or haste to alert anyone.

“Aransmore wrote to us about their cattle getting eaten and the farmers being terrorized by a great beast in the swamp… that is why we set for Durrenden.” Aegon whispered cautiously, you had guessed he felt as though he owed you some degree of explanation for why the castle was bare and Durrenden had so many swordsmen.

”Yes.. Ornmir… She’s — She’s still angry and I am unsure what the cause is. Her shrine has been repaired yet there is an ire that remains present. I shall visit her again in time…once this has been settled,” you nod at him, quietly responding.

Once outside a large set of oak doors, gilded gold edging and embellishments, there was little mystery left at who lay in the chambers beyond them. Neither of you make the first move, both merely staring at the door as if it would open on its own accord.

You look over at Aegon, “we need not go through this, if you wish it so.”

“No,” he says softly, looking down, then back up to the door, “no I want to.” His voice is hardened, more determined and you wish more than anything you could read his thoughts but you turn away and nod.

He surprises you more, taking the first step forward but you are the one who opens the door. Both of you have an unspoken kinship bred from months of understanding each other slowly.

The room is dark, save for the silver light of the moon cascading through the open window. Despite the cool breeze flowing through, the room stank distinctly of mold and must, as though the windows had been sealed shut for years. Your eyes settle on Viserys, the first time you’ve seen him since ailing him with his son's mangled eye. He was less man than he was rot, you decided, the cause of the smell being him.

Half of his face blackened with necrosis, the infection taking a rather nasty turn. The leeches on his face had no more incentive to keep eating away at the flesh, not when it had shrunk down to the bone and exposed part of his skull. It was grotesque, really, but your face remained unmoved as you stood beside the bed and looked down at him. Only then did your face twist into something unpleasant.

You turn to Aegon, face pulled to a frown that half indicated disgust, nostrils slightly flared and eyebrows crossed together into a sullen expression. “He’s dead.” You say, defeatedly.

You were too late.

Tag List (lemme know if you wanna be tagged :D)

@karlachs-soldier @serving-targaryen-realness @deltamoon666 @bogbutteronmycroissant @heavenly1927

[astxrwar]

i care about quentin beck so much please keep telling us about your thoughts and ideas. i am so totally not normal about him, he just has so much potential!! i adored your third chapter of ties that bind, i love the way you write him and you have such a way with words. its just very well done and im so glad there’s at least one other person on this planet who thinks about him <3

AHHHH THANK U ILY we can be deranged about him together <3

rn i'm working on chapter 4 (which is already at fucking 7k! that's not even counting the like 4k+ miscellaneous stuff I already have written that will go in later chapters!!! im on such a writing bender rn it's insane)

manic brain puke (SO MUCH OF IT. SORRY!!! i have the normal amount of thoughts.jpeg) about the details below the cut if you're interested

buttt basically premise is there are a few scenes covering from like december to about march, next semester stuff, etc, some Plot Details (for once! lmao) about trying to figure out PhD stuff that will be Relevant later on and then when you have to stay late again in like. march. right before spring break when banner's off at a conference in toronto for two days you end up forgetting your apartment keys in his office so they're like. locked in there until he gets back. anyway basically all alternative plans end up not working out and you end up just going with quentin to his apartment which you both are sure (well HE is sure, you're less sure than you are Determined lmao. you are both fucking Wrong) will change things exactly Zero Percent.

(spoilers. it does actually change things a non-zero-percent. are you,,, perhaps,,, friends now??? unthinkable)

anyway my thoughts are basically 1. atp you guys finally exchange phone numbers 2. you both realize actually hooking up in somebody's apartment (either of yours) is way better than hooking up on the sly in the bio building and then 3. your hot water boiler goes out in may and you end up there AGAIN for like a WEEK and stuff changes MORE and then 4. there starts to be some light angst and like. non-platonic feelings on both ends. shit starts to get messy because you start thinking about doing your dissertation in stark's lab and quentin is like. "absolutely fucking not and no I won't explain why <3" because of course they have beef.

quentin did his postdoc under tony in this au lol. he hates him because tony fucked up a patent for something quentin invented during the postdoc and it lost him a lot of money; obviously tony is stupid fucking rich (he owns and funds an entire university! insanely rich) but quentin is Not so it like. kind of irreparably broke their relationship. tony feels Bad and that's why 1. quentin is tenured despite being technically too young and gets paid a stupid amount for academia; like at least 100k. 2. he's not required to take on undergraduate researchers in his lab (a hassle, requires lots of teaching, usually a requirement for academic research) and 3. doesn't technically have to take on PhD students either. but he does not really tell you any of this explicitly, the details kind of just come together over time, and he definitely does not say why the thought of you joining stark's lab has him being like "absolutely fucking not lmao". a big part of it is that quentin is like... aware that tony just kind of Collects smart people (like him, bruce banner, basically the entire staff + his PhD students and postdocs) and in quentin's stupid little emotionally stunted baby brain he's like "he can't have this one!!!! this one is mine,,, >:((" and does he communicate this at all? no! mans is pathologically allergic to normal emotional availability sldkfsd

so despite historically avoiding taking on PhD researchers he's like. I will let you do your work in my lab if you don't go join stark's lab. But then the issue becomes like... dude you can't be my PhD advisor, we're fucking. that's not allowed. even just fucking your PI (lab manager basically) is a massive no-no and if it got out it would bring into question the reliability of literally all of your research (the fact aside that Quentin would never lie about science for anything. even for love. fuck that shit the way that he cares about people is by absolutely tearing their work to pieces not by pretending bad science is good. literally why he bothers you all the fucking time That's How He Cares It's Incredibly Dysfunctional but i digress) but i'm imagining that it's not really explicitly outlawed in the official code of ethics because it's tony stark's university lmao. He Is A Whore i'm sure he's fucked a lot of his PhD students/postdocs/etc. (Im thinking of having quentin and tony maybe have a past history when he did his postdoc. bisexual quentin supremacy. but also because it adds another layer to the whole "i do not want you to be around him At All" because he knows that tony is functionally incapable of having normal relationships with students. it's the ways that they are very similar but also very different etc etc) basically it becomes a whole deeply emotionally fraught Mess. bruce banner agrees to still be your PhD advisor despite you not doing work in his lab which is uncommon but not unheard of, but it's still like. either you and Quentin need to Stop Fucking or you need to agree that you're never going to have a bad breakup (I say this as if it's even a mutually agreed upon relationship and not just two morons incapable of admitting they care about each other) because it would absolutely ruin both your careers. angst(TM)

I probably will not make it an unhappy ending because I hate those. I have no idea how I'm going to end it though tbh

[d0llpie]

Tendou x Reader

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5

Warnings: angst, mentions of insecurity, self harm (not explicit), sexual assault, ooc ushijima and smut, please let me know if i missed anything

Word count: 2.8k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning Asahi picked you up and drove the both of you back to the dorms after finding the janitor and begging him to let him into the building to find your key. The janitor let him in after assuming he was the father of a student. 

 "So how was the date?" Asahi asked looking back at Tendou in the back seat 

"It was amazing" Tendou smirked at you in the mirror and you blushed

"So are you two...dating now?" Asahi was a big softie but he'd still act overprotective of you despite him never actually doing anything physically 

"Yes" you both said in unison not looking at Asahi

You noticed his grip tighten on the steering wheel as he kept driving in silence. 

 Once you'd arrived at the dorms you told Tendou to go ahead while you talked to Asahi 

"so.." you started 

"are you sure about him?" asahi said worried 

"yes, and it's fine you don't have to worry about me" you replied 

"of course i have to worry about you, it's fine if you're happy but you know i'll always be here too" he patted your head and smiled 

"I know Asahi, thank you for picking us up" you smiled and he nodded 

"Make sure you keep your key on you okay?" he warned as you got out of the car 

"Yes yes i know, goodbye" you smiled at him and waved as he drove off 

 The next couple of months were nothing short of a dream. Tendou carried you on his back, back to the dorms after practice each day and the teams had learned to just ignore Tendou's bragging about you. It never failed to make you nervous but he truly did look happy talking about you. At least a few days a week he would come into your dorm and lie his head in your lap reading shounen jump while you braided small plaits into his hair. After you had grabbed lunch at the cafe together you were doing exactly that, he was reading calmly while you twirled his red locks in between your fingers. You watched as his eyes lit up and he sat up and turned to you

 "y/n, are you coming to watch us play Karasuno next week?" he looked into your eyes with that familiar intensity that you fell for 

"Of course i am, i'm excited to see if you can block one of Asahi's spikes" you teased 

"You'll see, i will" he smirked and kissed your cheek lightly before lying back down leaving you flustered and shocked. You loved watched Tendou play, he truly did turn into monster on the court and it excited you to see him so comfortable and agile. You felt a bit jealous though, your team hadn't made it as far as the boys team and you were done playing real matches for the semester, you didn't want to tell Tendou because you knew this could be his last game with the team. He noticed your mood change though, he always did and he sat up in front of you

 "y/n what's wrong?" he looked into your eyes for any sign but he figured you were thinking about volleyball

"Is it because you miss playing volleyball?" he pulled you close to him and you wrapped your legs and arms around him as you sighed into his shoulder. You mumbled yes against him and he chuckled rubbing your back softly. 

"It'll be okay, you still have practice and you'll continue playing matches after break" he kept rubbing your back while his other hand played with your hair. You brought your head off his shoulder and sighed 

"I just feel like i’m gonna be boring without volleyball, you’re always so fun no matter what and i can never keep up...ugh and i should be comforting you it could be your last game" you pouted and connected your forehead to his 

"Just being around you is comfort enough" he smiled and you slapped his arm lightly, laughing at how cheesy he was whenever you were down. He knew it always made you feel better so he continued saying cheesy things until you'd forgotten about your worries. 

 It was the day of the Karasuno vs Shiratorizawa match, you saw Tendou in the morning and wished him good luck before going to meet Asahi. You arrived at the gym with the Karasuno team and wished them all good luck as well before smiling at Asahi and meeting Yachi and Miki in the stands. 

"Hey guys" you smiled at them 

"Hey y/n, so who do you want to win?" Yachi raised her eyebrow at you 

"I honestly don't know, volleyball means so much to Tendou and Asahi has really found himself since joining back, im so nervous for both of them..either way i'll be buying someone chocolate ice cream after this" you chuckled lightly but you really were nervous, you knew that one team had to lose and you were scared for how devastated either one would be. 

 After the first four sets you swore you were sweating more  than any of the players, you were so nervous and tired from cheering you didnt even notice your nails digging into the chair beneath you. Tendou was more intense than ever, he was breaking karasuno and you felt sorry for the pinch server on Karasuno who was crying while Tendou sung from the sidelines. He looked up at you and smiled, you waved back dramatically before looking over to Asahi and doing the same, he smiled back nervously. Tendou watched you and he felt calmer despite you being a ball of energy and nerves. He wanted to win, for you and for his team. He went back onto the court and began playing even harder than before, his guesses becoming more and more accurate every time he went to block. You watched him in awe but you noticed Asahi becoming more and more determined the more that they were blocked. 

 The whistle blew and you stared down the court, many of the shiratorizawa players were on the floor and the Karasuno 3rd years were crying in each other’s arms while the rest screamed. Tendou had lost, you watched him curiously as he just stared up at the roof and muttered to himself. You wanted to run up to him a hug him but you knew you had to wait. Ushijima gravbed Tendou and brought him back to the coach, he was emotionless but you could sense his disappointment even from up in the stands. After both teams had lined up you ran down the stairs and saw Karasuno first, you congratulated the team and gave Asahi a big hug, he saw how you were in a rush and he understood you wanted to comfort Tendou. He smiled understandingly and you ran past him without saying anything. When you saw Ushijima and Tendou walking next to each other you weren’t surprised to see that they both seemed normal, anyone else would think they were relaxed but you could tell they were both upset. You looked at Tendou and wrapped your arms around him and he buried his face in the crook of your neck. 

“You were amazing out there, you know that?” you mumbled just loud enough for him to hear, you felt him smile against your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. You pulled back and looked at Ushijima 

“You played so well, everyone did” you smiled at him and he nodded appreciatively. 

 After you had said goodbye to the Karasuno team and Asahi you went back on the Shiratorizawa bus with boys and girls team. Tendou fell asleep on your shoulder 5 minutes into the ride back and you smiled, running your hands through his hair. He looked so peaceful sleeping which contrasted deeply to the guess monster you’d just seen on the court. 

 Back at the dorms you walked into Tendou and Ushijimas dorm room in Tendous hoodie holding one of his shounen jump copies and a tub of chocolate ice cream with some spoons. He looked up at you and melted when he saw you, he came and wrapped you in a hug kissing your forehead lightly and whispering in your ear 

“Thank you princess” you blushed and sat on his bed opening the ice cream while Tendou made himself comfortable in your lap. 

 You smiled down at him and ran your hands through his hair, he began reading his magazine while you put the ice cream as aids to focus on braiding his hair. 

He loved lying on your thighs and often fell asleep in your lap reading or talking to you about shounen jump while you played with his hair. 

“I love you” you cooed as you closed your eyes, quickly opening them when you felt him tense up below you and realised you had said that out loud. 

Your face turned red and you tried to get up but Tendou grabbed your hip, holding you in place while he stared at you. You avoided eye contact but you could feel his eyes on your face. 

“y/n look at me” you brought your gaze into your lap and he lifted your chin with his hand 

“I love you too” you looked into his eyes and he sat up before he cupped your face in his large hands and pressed his lips against yours. 

 You felt your heart basically jump out of your chest as you melted beneath his touch. His other hand that was on your hip started to move up your waist under your shirt and you shivered feeling his fingers trace your side. Your breath hitched when he cupped your breast, he squeezed softly earning a small moan from you and he smirked while kissing down your jawline. 

You smiled back wrapping your leg around his waist pulling him down onto you, he looked into your eyes for any indication that he should stop but he saw nothing but love and lust. He smiled and said ‘i love you princess’ before sitting up and taking off his shirt before coming back down and leaving marks on your neck. 

You arched your back as he trailed his finger up your thigh and he took the opportunity to unclip your bra. He lifted his hoodie off of you and you averted your eyes as he gazed down at you

 “You’re so beautiful” he whispered before kissing in between your breasts and down to your naval. 

He loomed over you with half lidded eyes as he admired the affect he had on you, your uneven breathing and bare chest was driving him mad. 

His hand made its way from your breast to your throat as he kissed you roughly while choking you. You stared up at him with lust while he slipped his hand past the waistband of your shorts. 

He groaned as he felt how wet you were, for him and only him. He slipped a finger inside of you and moaned into your mouth as you arched your back. 

 He grabbed both your wrists with his free hand and held them above your head while roughly kissing you to silence your moans. Adding a second finger, he started curling his fingers inside of you and you moaned at how his skilled hands worked wonders inside of you. 

 “Princess i need you to quiet down” he said before releasing your wrists and shoving his fingers in your mouth, you felt a knot in your stomach and you were about to come undone before he removed his fingers from inside you. You groaned and looked up at him to see him smirking. 

You felt his bulge on the inside of your thigh and brushed against him causing him to moan into your mouth. You took the opportunity to flip him over and straddle him. He looked up at you surprised as you started kissing down his toned chest and abdomen. He grabbed your jaw and brought you up to his face kissing you roughly, you grinder against him and he moaned loudly in your ear, you blushed at his reaction and started kissing back down his chest. 

 As you released his member from his boxers you looked up to see him with a smug look on his face, you swirled your tongue around his tip and watched his eyes roll back into his head. Satisfied, you started bobbing your head, taking most of him in your mouth while his hand found its way to your hair, gripping it softly as he guided your head faster. 

 He grabbed your jaw again and pulled you up off of him and pulled off your shorts and panties. He dove between your thighs with no warning and started squeezing your thighs while swirling his tongue on your clit, you were panting and moaning so loud you wouldn’t be surprised if the whole dorm building could hear. 

“tendou...i’m gonna-“ you moaned out as he took his tongue out of you and kissed your lips while still gripping your thighs, you were sure there would be hand marks the next day. 

“Not yet princess, be patient” he said before lying down and pulling you onto his face. He started attacking your clit again and you gripped his hair as he inserted his tongue inside you causing him to moan loudly against you, you kept pulling his hair to get the same reaction but he still didn’t let you cum. 

Your legs were shaking now as he put you on your hands and knees in front of him. 

“Look at me” he grabbed your jaw and saw the tears fall down your face, he groaned and kissed your shoulder before lightly nipping at your collarbone 

“you’re so fucking pretty when you cry” he kissed you once more before pushing you back down and grabbing your hips. He put his tip in your entrance before asking “are you okay?” you moaned in response and he rammed the rest of his length inside of you earning a loud scream from you. 

He leant over and shoved his fingers in your mouth before slamming into you again while groaning in your ear. 

 The room was filled with the sound of skin slapping and muffled moans as he continued slamming into quickly. 

“Satori” you moaned out feeling the familiar knot in your stomach. He snaked his arm around you and started circling your clit while biting your shoulder. 

You threw your head back and as you were about to come he pulled out and flipped you over

“I wanna see that pretty face when you come for me” he mumbled into the crook of your neck as he left hickeys below your jaw. You were shaking already and your mascara was running down your cheeks, the sight of you so wound up underneath him drove him mad, much like how he felt on the court against after breaking the other players.

He pushed into you again and wrapped his arm under your waist as he left sloppy kisses all over your chest. Your hands gripped his hair as you both moaned. 

“Tendou, please” you whimpered out and he bit your bottom lip as he sped up his pace

“It’s okay baby, you can cum now, scream for me” he could feel himself come undone as you screamed out his name and tightened around him

“fuck” he groaned and shot his seed into you as you both panted. 

He kissed your forehead and smiled down lovingly at you 

 “You did so good princess, don’t move i’ll clean you up” he kissed you sweetly before cleaning up and grabbing his hoodie for you to wear. Your legs were still shaking as he put the hoodie on your and pulled the covers over you before slipping into the bed too. He wrapped his arm around you and pulled you close before kissing the top of your head and whispering in your ear 

“i love you, my paradise” you hummed in response and fell asleep in his embrace. 

 A few hours later you were both woken up by Ushijima stumbling into the room. You were struggling to wake up and Tendou and Ushijima were talking quietly before Tendou whispered to you 

“Go back to sleep, i’m going to the bathroom” he kissed your cheek and you stirred awake feeling Ushijima staring at you. 

“Hey ushijima, are you okay?” you asked rubbing your eyes, when you opened them fully you saw his face inches from yours and his hand was holding your thigh. You barely had any time to react before he started kissing you and shoving his tongue into your mouth. You could taste the alcohol in his mouth and you pushed against his arms but he was so much bigger than you that you couldn’t move. Tears began to prick your eyes as you struggled against his hold. You felt frozen despite your attempts to push him off of you, you didn’t even feel like you were there, you were just watching as he slid his hand up your shorts. He groaned when he felt you and you took the opportunity to push him off and run out of the room.

[axemetaphor]

im definitely not ripping off my friend by making a list of au ideas i have no siree //gonna slap this under a readmore cause i. well i say a lot. all of the time. i tried so hard to format this Good but tumblr fucked me up i am so sorry

so first-off i know i already have one WIP AU (Auckland) on ao3 so i wont talk about That one cause like. spoilers. i actualyl have it like 80% created so its likely gonna truly get finished for once and i dont wanna ruin shit

the other one ive posted about is something me and ben (catgirlrepublic) have worked on together its not at all close to done or anything but it's. a fun little crossover. Between jdate and my fuckinuhm. Original characters story “Untitled Villains Project”. the sketches of the comic version ive started is actually my pinned post 👉👈 its like the first chunk of the story, i think half of part 1? yea.

Tldr john fucking Somehow is able t oget into contact with a certain curious scientist from another reality who’d just love to study the Soy Sauce, most certainly not for her own nefarious purposes

John and Dave meet up with the scientist, her name is Boss, and her lab assistant, Toxic, and after a bit of a preliminary Vibe Check where john determines her trustworthy (which Dave doesnt agree with,) the two agree to be taken to the world UVP is set in. from there they stay in Boss’s lab (big old fucking abandoned military lab). John and Toxic are fast friends due to mutual love-of-chaos. John n Dave get to fuckin, camp out on an air mattress.

The day after they arrive, the two get split up, not exactly intentionally; big plot points of UVP are liek. Fueled by Boss sending Toxic to go fetch her “research materials,” which are usually important artifacts

Fuckin side note i guess i have to explain my dumb bullshit: Boss’s, uh, field of expertise so to speak is actually fckin, basically the scientific study of magic and superpowers n shit like that. This shit’s all real in that world. Toxic’s got fuckin superpowers, so do 4 other main characters, whatever. It’s got a bit to do with spirituality, iss Boss’s hypothesis. So she has Toxic fetch important artifacts that might have “energies” to them. The thing is actually way more fuckin complictated than that, this is just Boss’s initial hypothesis.

Motherfucking anyways. So Boss gives Toxic a job to do, and John get excited about how Cool that sounds, and ends up going with Toxic, leaving Boss and Dave alone. Neither is thrilled about this. But Dave and Boss get to have a bit of conversation (while Toxic and John are off bonding and having a good time) and come to a… mutual grudging understanding of some kind. They still dont like each other though lmao

Theres gonna be deeper shit going on but we havent sorted it out yet/tbh havent like Written For It in a while but i still like thinking about it a lot lol

Also pretty sure our endgame is john and dave steal toxic and bring them back with em lmao boss is kind of not nice and toxic would most certainly be better off in Undisclosed. Actually theyd fucking love it. Theyd become a local cryptid im sure. Undisclosed’s mothman is a teleporting spike baby.

I have. Another crossover AU that i might. Post something about for halloween? Maybe? If i have it finished?

Crosses over into, you guessed it, another one of my original-character projects. God, am i vain or something?

I promise this is just because i think blue and dave should get to team up to beat up some monsters

Quick briefing on my fuckinuh. Original character story, this one doesnt have a name (yet? Idk lol my work never actually goes anywhere sso who gives a shit). It centers around two grim reapers, Red (26, bi woman) and Blue (22, aroace agender asshole). In this reality or whatever, grim reapers function kind of like low-level office workers. They get told who’s going to die + when by some middle-management types, and upper management only involve themselves when punishment needs to be doled out. These Higher-Ups can be seen as analogous to Korrok; they’re decidedly not human, never were, and fucking terrifyingly powerful. Additionally, grim reapers are sort of .. designed to be “background noise” people. In reality theyre supernatural beings and, uh, look Real Fuckin Weird (the whole deal has a neon aesthetic im terrible at drawing uwu) but most humans just perceive them like extras in a movie. A body’s there but the camera’s not focused on it.

To the narrative: the shit starts when Red n Blue get relocated to Undisclosed. Relocation is something that just happens every now and then to reapers; they usually work in teams, but they get split up into different cities to avoid any strong bonds forming (a counter-union strategy from the Higher-Ups).

Red, Blue, John and Dave end up running into each other for the first time in a McDonalds where John n Dave are getting some 4am “hey, we just survived another horrific monster fight” celebration burgers. John and Dave are the only two people who can see how… strange Red and Blue are. Nobody else notices.

John unintentionally pisses Blue off, leading to Blue whacking him upside the head with a dildo bat. They all four get kicked out of McDonald’s. Dave and Red both are less than thrilled

Blue and John end up resolving their differences, somehow. Red and Dave briefly bond over their dumbass best friends being, well, dumbasses. They all part ways amicably.

somehow-or-other (idk yet) they end up running into each other a few more times, and eventually john invites them over to his place, and the four (plus Amy now!) get to know each other a little better

while there, Blue gets a text about some guy who's gonna die and John offers to drive them to where that's gonna go down. they take him up on the offer and get to have a bit of one-on-one conversation

after that ordeal though Blue has had Enough of people and bails, leaving John to head home alone

theres a sort of mirror-development going on with the five of em. Red, John, and Amy would all like everyone to get along, though theyre a bit tentative about it (John moreso than the other two, actually, jsut cause. well Red n Blue could still be Sauce Monsters). Dave and Blue on the other hand do Not like people enough for this shit, and Dave's not unconvinced theyre Sauce Monsters. he will not trust them until proven he should

the story's kinda nebulous but i got an idea for some Shit going down that involves both Sauce Monsters and also the Higher-Ups to have some fuckin absolute chaos go down.

Oops! All Trans

Everybody is transgender. Everyone

Ive actually workshopped this one both with ben (catgirlrepublic) and ghost (ghost-wannabe) lmao its a fun lil concept ive had from the get-go cause i mean. What’s an internet tran gonna do other than hit all their favourite media with the Everyone’s Trans beam

Dave transitioned post-high school and faked his death for it. People go missing in Undisclosed all the damned time, after all. He moved to the next city over, transitioned fully, then came back as a completely new man. Yes i know this doesnt exactly fit with the “everyone knows David from high school” thing alright, hush.

Anytime anyone brings up John’s old best friend (pre-transition Dave) John throws an entire fit like an overdramatic grieving widow. Full-on sobbing “why would you bring her up?! I miss her so much—” to the point that people just stop bringing up because Jesus Christ That Sure Is Uncomfortable KJHGFDS.

This is a scheme he and Dave came up with prior to Dave leaving, though Dave hadnt exactly anticipated John putting on this much of a performance about it— but it’s stopped Dave from ever having tto hear his deadname again, so hey.

Amy transitioned sometime in middle school/early high school. Her family was super supportive and loved her a ton and most people just know her as Amy. she was super shy her whole life really so. Yeah. people just dont think to bring it up lmao also i Feel Like big jim would absolutely wallop anyone who gave her trouble of any kind

John’s nonbinary (genderfluid specifically) and not exactly Interested in transitioning ? like hes fine with how he is. mostly.

he came out to Dave in high school but hes not out to anyone else exactly. Maybe his bandmates. Probably any other trans person in Undisclosed knows, too, cause theyre safe to tell lmao. Johns mostly a “he/him out of convenience” kinda nb who’s cool with any pronouns but does prefer they/them most. Dave and Amy use they/them when the trio are alone

Also this is a totally self-indulgent caveat that i think would be great, Dave’s actually agender but because he's transmasc and transitioned when he thought there were really only two options, and being Boy at least felt less weird than being Girl, he just kind of assumed he was a dude. It’s only through a lot of (like fucking years and years hes probably in his 30s/40s when he puts 2 and 2 together on this one) talks about gender with John that he realizes he actually feels like No Gender. Masc aesthetic with none gender.

I Just Think It’d Be Neat Is All Okay

Also Amy came out to Dave about being trans early on in them seeing each other and his response was to get very nervous before blurting out “me too” and then just being too embarrassed to talk about it for the rest of the day. Hes got a lot of hangups on talking about it actually it takes years for him to get comfortable in that

by contrast when Amy comes out to John about it his response is to yell “EYYY ME TOO” and give her a big ol hug lmao

I think itd be neatt if Amy ran a like. Transfem help/advice blog on tumblr. Kind of helped-with by John who can give her transfem nb insight for certain asks. I also just think that would be neat.

Cowboy AU - i put this one last cause its got drawings to it actually. Theyll be at the bottom

Basically just. Hey you ever watched a western. I think they look neat

This is another one me n ben have come up with lol

The soy sauce and all that shit still exist, im not sure where korrok fits in yet but ill figure it out

Theres no real like solid narrative yet ? but heres the barebones of everybody’s arcs.

John

Johns an absolute troublemaker, Of Course. Hes wanted in several towns for absolutely stupid shit. Hes a loner who shows up, causes chaos, gets drunk, does some drugs, runs away if people get too mad at him

He definitely had the same kind of deal with the soy sauce as in canon— he was at some kind of party, somebody offered it, he took it cause why the fuck wouldnt he, now he can see monsters and shit

Hes kind of a mooch also. Like. dont let him stay in your barn man he’ll never fucking leave and drink all your booze.

He runs into Dave when they happen to just, cross paths in the same town. the bullshit John stirs up ends up involving Dave in a way that makes it seem like it's his fault too, and they both get run out of town

after that he just tags along after Dave. hes decided this guy's Cool he wants to stick around. Dave is pissed at first, but not enough to shoot him or anything, and eventually, John grows on him

Dave

Dave also is a loner but unlike John hes simply so fucking awkward and bad with people. He doesnt feel like he belongs anywhere so he just travels

He’s the stereotypical Lone Ranger tbh. He wanders from town to town, solving their problems, though hed deny its out of any moral obligation (it kinda is, a little bit, tbh. He does like feeling useful). He shows up, fixes things, leaves. He's kind of a legend but most people think he's hiding something dark. other people jsut know him as that guy who farted real loud in the middle of the saloon and promptly skipped town out of sheer embarrassment. you know how it goes with Dave

He ends up involved with the Soy Sauce when a snake (not Actually a snake,) bites him. The snake’s more like the wig-monsters, really. Anyway, it injects him with the soy sauce, he fucking trips balls in the middle of the desert, he can see monsters now

He runs into John and shit goes tits-up, as said, but they become traveling buddies after that. he'd never say so, but he's glad for the company, actually. it's nice. hes not used to companionship but he feels a strange kind of easiness hanging out with John....

not sure how the Monster Dave concept will like fit in to this reality but like. trust me i want it in here. I'll Figure It Out.

Amy

Amy’s been living in a town John and Dave end up passing through and she is very curious about these two new Handsome Strangers who claim to fight monsters and just kinda. Persistently tags along til they let her join for real

Her family’s all dead, unfortunately, just like in canon, and she’s been living alone for a few years before meeting John n Dave. she had nothing left in that town to stay for, she'd been fantasizing about escaping on wild adventures for a long time and this felt a little like a dream come true. (Dave still gives her a spiel about how Difficult it is, but really, her fantasies were pretty grounded-in-reality already. i jsut think thats how she is, yknow?)

Shes the first person to react to the whole “we see monsters” shit with a kind of “oh, okay. neat” kind of response lmao

John and Dave fix whatever the fuck is up with her town (maybe that’s where the Korrok shit can fit, who knows) and Amy ends up being integral to that. After, she insists they take her with them because “they need her now” and Dave just cant really say no. John too is very much "the more the merrier!" and hes actually glad to have another person along he loves people lmao

At the start she has long hair but after she joins them she chops it short with a knife for convenience

also she still is an amputee. justt. idk. it was a wagon/stagecoach accident rather than a car accident lmao. just to clarify since i hadnt mentioned it, i wouldnt rob her of her ghost hand or yknow. all of the significance to her character that Missing A Hand has. although also now im going to have to research what was used as painkillers way-back-when, but im betting shes still got, like, her pain pills, they probably had those, maybe i wouldnt have to try too hard there. old timey medicine could be WACK though,

Shitload

Yeah hes in tthis shit mostly cause i liked designing his cowboy self lmao

Hes a kid (like 16, 17, technically i think in those days that was more Young Man than Kid but whatever. Hes Young i mean.) who got possessed by the Worms out in the desert and, by his family’s perception, just went missing!

Hes also a wanderer, but he ended up at the same town john and dave met in, at that same time, and starts following them after, already aware of who/what they are.

He keeps his face covered 24/7. actually he covers a Majority of his self for reasons. kinda want him to be a slightly more horrifying Worm Entity rather than human idk,

I kinda dont have much for this boy yet sorry Shitload

images !

with some editing notes for me cause im doing a very specific aesthetic with this lmao. i might change some lil details/colours though ...... idk

im also kinda 🤔 about shitload's colour palette. i want things assoicated w the sauce to be black'n'red predominantly but i think his palette might mirror dave's too closely. also im working on a korrok design i jsut am too busy to draw it now

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for Dating Bucky Barnes

Bucky Barnes x reader

warnings:

a/n:

prompt: anonymous: “Headcanons for dating Bucky Barnes?”

you met bucky in 2014

at the smithsonian museum, actually

you stood beside him while reading the plaques of information

“so this is how it all started?”

*confused and disoriented bucky* “huh?”

“superheroes. well, ‘enhanced individuals,’ i guess. but each of the commandos were heroes on their own...”

that comment made bucky smile, he needed to hear that

you two wandered around the exhibit for a while, crossing paths a few more times

as you left, he opened the door for you and you got a peek of his face in brighter light, it looked familiar

“no way”

“i hope you’re not scared...”

“you don’t seem that threatening to me”

oddly enough, the two of you clicked

bucky was on the run, he told you at up front

but he stuck around for a few days, being so honest you would have thought he was on his death bed

his stories, at least the ones he remembered, they were upsetting to the both of you, but you could tell that wasnt him anymore

there wasn’t much for you in washington, anyways

so you ran with him, something he didn’t understand at first

“what do you see in me?”

“a man who deserves another chance”

you always knew how to cheer him up

even on the most challenging days

you and bucky travelled the world before finding a place bucky was comfortable living in

but your journey was a learning experience

bucky grew to trust you with every passing day

there were a handful of motel stays, some worse than others

“oh, god, there’s a rat in the shower!”

“i’ll handle it”

“‘handle it????????’”

you didn’t want to know anymore

you just hid underneath your pillow and waited to be able to shower

bucky was always the big spoon

he just wanted to keep you safe

that worried him the most

he thought he’d get you into some kind of mess

you cant count the amout of times he’d apologize and try to tell you that you shouldn’t be with him

and every time, you’d set your hands on his face, tracing his stubble with your thumbs and say:

“i chose to be with you, and i’m choosing to stay with you”

his metal arm was very intriguing to you

at first, you were worried he was sensitive about it, but one day he was shirtless on the bed and turned to you

“are you scared of me?”

“why would i be scared of you?”

“...does my arm make you uncomfortable?”

“uh, no. not at all...i just didn’t know if you would be upset about talking about it”

he just shook his head with his eyebrows raised high, guess it wasn’t off limits like you thought

you didn’t like the design, though

“i should paint over that star”

“go for it”

you also helped him clean it every once in a while

bucky runs his fingers through your hair and scratches you head with his real arm, you love it

and he loves how relaxed you get

in fact, you guys fell in love, it was an amazing feeling for both of you

you had to say it first

“i love you, bucky”

he picked you up and gave you a kiss afterwards

“god, i love you, too”

you’ve done his hair up a few times, it’s amusing

bucky gives you long kisses on the lips and tons of forehead/hand/shoulder kisses

and bucky’s not always serious, he’s has a sweet side that you bring out in him

he teases you a bit

he’s TALL and he plays keepaway like a big meanie

>:( “bUcKy!!!!”

“i’ll hand it over if you give me a kiss”

you guys moved to romania together in that cozy little apartment

and things were good for you guys

you guys worked, went to the market, every once in a while you had dates...you were really happy

he bought some cookbooks and surprised you with dinner after a long day at work

“i hope you like it, it was a nightmare to make”

“psssh, it smells great, i bet i’ll love it”

cuddling is his favorite

he needs affection

sm of it

but he doesn’t ask for it

*one exception, he pulls you onto his lap

you guys share a shitty, creaky mattress that drives you crazy

like sitting on it and it goes *squuuueaaak*

and, obviously, given the circumstances, bucky trained you in self defense. he wanted to make sure you could save yourself if he wasn’t there for you

the two of you led a simple little life for a while

until you walked into your apartment and saw the silhouette of a large man that was not your boyfriend

you dropped everything as he came out of the shadow

“i’m sorry to startle you, you must be bucky’s s/o. i’m steve rogers, bucky’s in trouble”

your heart was racing

you called bucky but he wouldn’t answer you

but he got home and found you packing each of your things

“there’s no time, y/n, we have to go”

you weren’t like them, you couldn’t fight armed soldiers or jump out of windows or run with cars

so one of captain america’s teammates picked you up, falcon

you all ended up getting apprehended anyways

you were questioned for a brief amount of time, but as soon as the power went out you were able to run

until you saw the winter soldier, that wasn’t bucky

steve made sure you kept away, he knew that if bucky hurt you he would never forgive himself

but again, sam got you out of there while steve got bucky

and once bucky snapped out of it, he remembered his entire past, you’d be learning about a whole new side after this

listen, bucky was terrified during this

if it was just him, he would have a clear mind and go on, but now you were all fugitives and he was mad that he dragged you into this

“please stop blaming yourself, bucky. you know that this is still my choice to stand by your side”

“i know, i just dont want to lose you”

“then stop trying to push me away, i need you and you need me”

steve pulled you aside when he got the chance to tell you:

“im glad he found you, thank you for staying by his side”

you sat in the back of the volkswagen with bucky, clutching onto his hand

“it’s gonna be okay, steve told me you can trust sharon”

yes, you had to stay with sharon during this, she was breaking a lot of rules

“so, did you know he was the winter soldier when you met him?”

“yeah, but he was a good man, too. i focused on that”

“that’s good, that’s really good”

after the “civil war,” you were granted a safe haven in wakanda with bucky, so you and bucky moved there

it was a lot more peaceful than the past few years

bucky told you all about his childhood up until his “death”

he had gotten apart of himself back, it was another part of him to fall in love with

you got to dance with him to some of his favorite songs, it made you feel wonderful

and you got some more training time in wakanda, you never knew when you’d need to kick some ass

and then the day came when the two of you had to fight for your lives and HOLY shit he was losing his mind but he couldn’t stop you from fighting in this one

“y/n, are you sure you want to do this?”

“absolutely. i love you, you big lug. don’t forget it”

“i love you, too. i’ll be out there if you need me”

cap kept an eye on you

but you saved a few people’s asses

before you looked into the eyes of thanos

when he snapped, you watched bucky fade away

and you fell to your knees

and cried, for days you cried

steve and you were heartbroken, it had been 4 years with bucky, now you were alone

you were determined to get him back

but it seemed like there was no chance

so you gave up, stayed at the avengers compound instead, trained like hell with black widow and anyone else who’d have you

five years went by and you were a badass

and you got the second chance you needed, the avengers reunited

“y/n, are you up for this?”

“i’d do anything to get him back”

and after hard work and tragedy, you brought him back

you all did

you were reunited with him and he was surprised to see you kicking ass on the battlefield

“y/n? is that you?”

“bucky! oh, my god. i’ve been waiting five years for this”

he gave you a huge hug and studied your hardened face, there was much to catch up on

“i’m sorry i wasn’t there”

“it wasn’t your fault”

you and your boyfriend kicked alien ass for all you had left, this was your last chance to make it right, all or nothing

you were relieved once it was all over

you actually watched the sunset with bucky while you patched up your wounds

“i’m glad you’re okay, y/n. i don’t know what i’d do without you”

“bucky...i was lost without you these past few years...i just can’t believe i’m here with you again”

“well, i’m not going anywhere anytime soon”

he wrapped his arm around your shoulder and the two of you took in your gift of a well-deserved peaceful moment

taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @rorybutnotgilmore // @locke-writes // @sweetheartlisbeth // @queen-destenie // @natasha-danvers // @allthecreativeonesaretaken // @frostedgiant // @praellee // @emygirl

[troddensodden]

Physical Features OC Ask Game !! 👁 What is your OC’s eye color? Do they have any eye-related habits, like winking or rubbing their eyes? Do other people tend to notice their eyes? 💇 What is your OC’s hairstyle? How do they maintain their hair? Do they wash it and/or cut it regularly? Have they ever dyed their hair? 👖 What type of clothing does your OC generally wear? Why? Do they have any “signature” accessories?

since its the only ask i have so far, im gonna answer each of these for all three of my current ocs :D hope thats okay!

cedric: fallout 4 || alistair: fallout 4 || emil: fallout new vegas

eyes—

-cedric: blue-green eyes! however he actually only has one, in a sense, because a bomb once blew up close enough to his face that it burned the skin, and damaged his left eye enough that he went blind in it. he tried to take care of the injury, but the commonwealth doesnt exactly have many medicine or skincare products. it ended up getting a pretty gnarly infection, which only made it worse after scarring. so now, he wears an eyepatch over it! he regularly wears a gas mask out in the wasteland, mostly for radiation protection but partially because he is somewhat insecure about his eye, and the look of the skin around it. when he isnt wearing one though, people do definitely notice his eyes for that reason, more than anything else. he doesnt have any particular habits, other than consistently wearing an eye covering.

-alistair: his eyes arent anything particularly special, really. just a plain dark brown, dark enough to look black from a distance. he doesnt have any specific habits, per se, as he is a synth and thats not necessarily in his program. however, if hes close enough with someone, he will make a fair amount of (bad) jokes or comments and accentuate them with a wink or an eyebrow raise. also, when hes frustrated he sometimes will rub his eyes with his palms, or do long drawn out blinks and eyerolls. his eyes arent all that notable though, so people dont take much notice of them often, outside of their expressiveness.

-emil: a sort of grey, green, hazel, blue, combination? really, they dont seem to have much of a set eye-color. its hard to determine. so on the occasion that someone asks, theyll give a different answer every time, sometimes answering with a color that is definitely not even close to the actual color. furthermore, theyre quite the mischievous and flirtatious type in some cases, so winking is something they do quite often, and are able to do with either eye. other times, theyll look someone up and down when facing them, but with an absent expression that makes it hard to tell whether theyre checking the person out or sizing them up. their eyes dont get noticed often because again, they arent anything particularly special, but when in a relationship, they do find that partners seem to take a particular interest toward the confusing matter of their eyes, specifically the color.

——

hair—

c: pre-war, he kept his hair relatively well-managed, a tidy crop with maybe a bit more length than the "average" mens cut. post-war, however, he frankly sees getting his hair done as too much effort, only occasionally stopping for a trim and otherwise letting it grow out, and tying it up if it gets in the way. his boyfriends quite fancy this, liking to play with it when they spend time together. maccready, on occasion, will even braid it if hes stressed or in a bad mood, as a way of calming himself down. (when he does this, cedric tries to keep the braid in as long as possible.) washing hair isnt necessarily easy, in a world where even just clean water itself is in short supply, let alone soap. however, he does try his best to clean it when he can, because he doesnt like the feeling of dirty hair. he also has never dyed his hair, because hes always been content with his natural brown color, even if its a bit "plain."

a: he keeps his hair close to a stubble, consistently. his hair doesnt grow very rapidly, but still, he will likely be seen getting his hair cut every couple weeks to keep it from growing out. he likes looking put together, and will rarely ever be caught genuinely dirty. any chance he gets to clean himself, he will, and any time he needs a haircut, you can bet he'll be on his way to the nearest place that offers it. he refuses to dye his hair, saying that it creates a look of unprofessionalism, (and hair dye doesnt go well over black usually.) nobody really understands why hes so insistent on looking put-together and professional all the time, but they accept it, even if he sometimes takes more time to get ready in the mornings than anyone else.

e: shaved on one side, long on the other. its also naturally got a bit of curl, which adds volume so it doesnt get too flat and stringy when it goes unwashed. they dont wash their hair as obsessively as alistair, though they will do a quick clean if they get the time. they dont particularly like the idea of using irradiated water to clean off, but its that or use purified water which is in relatively short supply. however, foraging is a bit of a strong point for them, so they will use natural supplies for cleaning off if possible, from plants and such. keeping hair maintained is hard in a relatively desolate area like the mojave, but whenever they find scissors and some free time theyll do a trim. scissors arent exactly a match for a nice set of clippers, but you learn to make do. they have dyed their hair with some temporary colors before, but never anything permanent—they actually quite like their natural gingery-blond color.

——

clothes—

c: whatever will protect him while also being comfortable enough that he can tolerate him with his sensory issues. however, in situations where he needs to looks somewhat "official," he will wear his minutemen-issued jacket over a decent shirt and pants set. however, he will rarely ever be seen without some sort of mask, unless the situation happens to be one where a gasmask or something similar would be improper. even then, the eyepatch stays on. so id say the eyepatch is somewhat a "staple" of his wardrobe, though its less of a fashion choice and more of what he deems a necessity.

a: if possible, he would regularly wear a button-down and pants that match. however, in an irradiated post-war wasteland, with hostiles around every corner, thats not a particularly feasible option; thus, he wears whatever is available that is in good condition but also effective. effectiveness is his priority, of course, but it does frustrate him if his clothing doesnt at least look decent. people see him as a bit of a pansy for it, but when he was in the institute, he was used to wearing a uniform that was focused on looking clean rather than being highly functional. so after escaping, that stuck with him a bit. he does, however, have an accessory he refuses to be without, and thats his and noras wedding ring. even after forming new relationships and finding a new purpose in the world, its impossible to move on from someone who was his whole world, what feels like only a few months ago.

e: emil most definitely prioritizes function over fashion. appearance is important, sure, but they recognize that it definitely is not the most important, when youre traveling across a hot desert full of giant scorpions and gang members. however, one thing that they always have, whether theyre wearing it or just has it in their pack, is this one puffy jacket, with a fur-lined hood. they found it in the dresser of a destroyed house they were scavenging through, and it somehow was in near-mint condition. the reason it was so special to them, though, is because it had a note in the pocket, from a girl to her older sibling. the girl being emils sister, who moved away with their father after their parents got divorced. the letter was addressed from her to them, but was never sent. and sure, while they knew that this almost definitely confirmed she had died, they were just happy enough having something from her. so they never go without the jacket, even though its warm (and a bit heavy.) impractical, but sentimental.

[yarichinbokutoclub]

The train was packed. Who knew so many people would be milling about at 1 o’clock on a Wednesday afternoon. You hated it, being around so many people, but with your job at the museum you had learned to tolerate the crowds. This, however, was different, you were crammed in a tiny cabin with God knows how many other people. Don’t these people have work to do? It is a week day after all. So, to put things lightly, your day did not start off on a good note.

           You were, however, looking forward to the Café’s opening. It was your light at the end of the tunnel so to speak. With the café being a bit of a hole in the wall and lacking any media presence you knew it would not attract much of a crowd. The perfect place to work on your botany journal (basically just a journal with different plant clippings and facts and drawings. Think Hiccup’s journal in HTYD or Deku’s journal in BNHA.) You were really looking forward to the new pages you could add now that the museum had gotten in some new flora, that of course they let you be the first to see. The journal was a great help when you were giving tours as you wanted to be as thorough as possible in hopes that you might inspire a bright young mind, like what had happened to you so many years ago.

           The train finally came to a stop and you couldn’t have been more grateful. You got off as quickly as possible and stopped to take a deep breath, really appreciating the fresh air and the open space around you. After you got your bearings, you adjusted your outfit (gotta look good in case there are any cute boys at the café ;)) and got on your way. The café was only about 5 blocks from the train station so it didn’t take you long to get there at all. You turned off the main street onto a little side one, almost like an alley, and towards the end you saw the café.

           The vibe was immaculate. It was everything you could have wished for and more, no crowds and books everywhere, what’s not to love? Taking a deep breath to prepare yourself, you pushed open the front door. A small bell above you jingled to signal your arrival and you were immediately met with not only the eyes of your best friend, Yachi, but also a pair of wide yellow eyes which seemed to be taking in your appearance. Blushing, you tried not to think much of it and made your way to the counter and greeted the cute barista that you knew so well. “Yachi!!! You look so adorable in your apron.” you exclaimed upon getting to the counter, mindful of your volume of course. “Y/n, you actually came!” Yachi replied with a big grin.

“I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to check this place out and bug you on your first day. ;P Speaking of, how has it been, any rude customers yet?”

“It’s been a lot slower than we would have hoped but everyone has been really polite, I honestly couldn’t have asked for a better first day. Anyways, I should probably get back to work. What can I get you? I’ll bring it to your table when it’s ready.”

Yachi, always the positive one and a hard worker too. Scanning over the menu you quickly make your decision. “I’ll have a hot caramel latte and a blueberry muffin! Oh an make sure you do something extra cute for the latte art!!”

“Only the best for you, y/n! I’ll have it right out!”

           With that you made your way to a table near a window so you could attempt to people watch without being near any of the other patrons. It was a quiet corner just the way you liked. However, you could still feel those big yellow eyes on you. Looking up you finally made eye contact with the man who had been staring you down and boy was he cute. You could tell he was athletic too, giving him a curt smile you turned back to your table and pulled out your journal. Maybe this could be where you find your wattpad romance after all. Or so you thought.

           Yachi brought out your order and you got to journaling about the newest flower in the museum’s greenhouse, the Cytandra Vittata or Candy-Striped Violet. Particularly excited about this one due to the flower’s incredible beauty and unique petals, you made sure to put extra care into the pages. You were having a great time, the coffee was amazing and the atmosphere was perfect for getting your work done. That is until HE decided to stop staring at you and go back to reading his manga. Whatever it was, it must have been incredibly interesting because he was… engrossed to say the least.

           Not only did he seem to zone everything around him out, forgetting where he was, but he also felt the need to verbally or physically react to just about everything that was happening in his childish story. He was annoying, sure, but not loud enough to where he could be considered “disturbing the peace” even though he was certainly disturbing YOUR peace. Every two seconds there was an “oooh” or an “ahhhh” maybe even a “WHAT?!” thrown in there. Your patience was certainly running thin and you made sure to glare at him a few times, even hushing him along with the other patrons, but he just was not getting the hint. The next page must have had a huge plot twist or surprise thrown in there because this response, it was the most dramatic. Abruptly, he stood up out of his chair, knocking it to the ground in the process. His eyes were even bigger than before (was that even possible?) and he yelled (yes, this time it was a yell). His exact words were “NO!!! IT WAS HER BROTHER ALL ALONG?! YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!!!!.” Spoilers, am I right?

           At this you had had enough. Sure, you didn’t like confrontation, but it didn’t seem like anyone else was going to step in and you knew Yachi would be a nervous wreck if she had to. So, you marched over to his table with the most aggressive scowl you think you have ever sported on your face.

“Are you trying to piss off everyone in the store?! Because you’re doing a really good job if that was your plan!” You screamed at the stranger’s face.

He looked up at you confusion written all over his face. “…Huh?” he questioned.

“Are you trying to tell me you have no idea what you’ve been doing for the past 30 minutes?? Because I don’t buy it. You’re being incredibly loud and rude and you need to stop. This is not the place for that. Some people are trying to get work down and you’re making it incredibly difficult. If you wanna read your manga fine do it but do it quietly. Save the theatrics for your bedroom.” you weren’t trying to be mean but you couldn’t help it. Once you start talking you can’t stop yourself and this time you went a little too far. His hair seemed to deflate, something you certainly didn’t miss because was that even possible?

“I’m sorry miss, I didn’t realize I was being so loud I’ll try to quiet down.” He replied with a huge pout on his face.

“Thank you.” You replied and promptly turned on your heels to go back to the violet you were so excited to study.

           Everything was going smoothly now, sure you didn’t mean to be that harsh and you could’ve asked him nicely but your anger took over and you couldn’t help it, though you did feel a bit bad. It certainly didn’t help that your day had started out as poorly as it did and you were so looking forward to the peace and quiet of the café, something that had been so rudely ripped away from you. Another 15 minutes passed by and the silence was amazing, you made some real progress in your journal, even completing a detailed sketch of the flower. After the 15 minutes was up however, the reactions started to seep back out from the yellow eyed man again. He seemed to be over his pouting now. His reactions, although much quieter this time were still quite annoying. You decided to ignore them though, thinking you had been a little too harsh the first time around, and hoping he just slipped up and will go back to being quiet. This, however, was not the case and the disruptions continued for another 10 minutes when you decided you better just leave. Fate is tricky and maybe you just weren’t fated to be at the café today, meaning you’ll try again tomorrow after work. You said your goodbyes to Yachi and made your way to the train station, looking forward to the peace and quiet of your apartment and the soft cuddles of your two cats, Kyo and Tohru.

           What you didn’t know, was that Yachi, deciding it was time to be bold, went over to the loud and excitable customer. She decided it best, for business and for her own sanity, if she politely asked him to leave. And she did just that. The man apologized and made his way out of the café feeling a bit defeated but determined to come back again and next time hopefully not get kicked out.

fear & love

4. series of unfortunate events

prev / next

masterlist

PLOT - y/n is in her first year of college at tokyo u., she has a great friend group, a fantastic internship, life is good… that is until she meets bokuto koutarou. this loud and brash volleyball star is about to turn y/n’s life upside down. the question is, will it be a good change or a bad one?

a/n - Im gonna be honest, not really loving this fic but I am pretty happy with how this chapter turned out, as always any advice is welcomed and pls if there's anything you want to see happen just ask!

taglist (open, send an ask) - @dumbb1tc4 @fleurishnblotts@coffeeaddictedmay@bigchaosenergy @noliamallpayne @evan-rose​ @bokutowo​

BOLD COULDNT BE TAGGED

[shyrose57]

Part 2 with da angst

2: Young Ranbob did not understand at all what was going on, infact he refused to believe he ever had anything to do with the sabotages, it was only when Dream took over completely and gave Ranbob enough of his mind to know what he was doing, did he finally accept it. He tried and tried to break Dreams control and get control of his body back, but nothing he did ever really worked, and the more he tried Dream eventually began to punish him, forcing him to stop. He felt aboustely awful, like a failure, a murder, and just a shitty person during all of this. His journal shows basically all of his mental decline, it went from normal, him recording special things during the day, to semi-normal, him expression concern and fear over the sabotages and killings (with some out of place words or sentences here and there appearing half way through, showing Dreams presence), to recordings from someone with obvious mental distress (misspelled words, extreme fear, showing fear of himself, hasty writings and drawings, very obviously out of place sentences (their neater than the rest and written differently, written by Dream), and meaningless words and sentences, obviously trying to say something but not knowing how too), all they way to flipping entries of when Ranbob is in control (sadness, despair, hasitly done, regret, and just heavy sentences) to when Dream is in control (Neat writing, stating "facts", showing a level of glee). Ranbob does still have it, he actually still uses it to record what happens in the groups and how far he's come. To the Gladiators its more of a "Hey I found this thing, lets read this thing." "No let's not read the thing." "Im going to ignore you and read it anyway.". The pictures are from the current ruined state of the City of Mizu, and pictures showing Ranbob at the fishermens house, struggling to walk and even eat on his own, though a few are from before Dream ever got a hold of Ranbob. 

3: The way you just said "Causally drops some trauma on them, huh?" And "Traumatized gremlins" made me laugh so much. Its so accurate and made me just think of the brothers vibing toghere before I just pop in and drop tons of trauma on them before dipping. "Ah, damn, the opponent stared me in my chest." "WHY ARE YOU SO CALM ABOUT THIS!? YOUR BLEEDING OUT!" "Oh im used to this. Trust me I'll survive...probably." "RAN I SWEAR!". And "Ranbob when did you last eat?" "Uhhh, 2 days ago I think." "..." "D-did I eat too soon? I dont have to eat for another day or two max-" "Ranbob shut up and eat." "B-but-" "If you dont eat I'll tell Benjamin." "OK ok I'll eat."  Ran thinks its normal to get stabbed often, while Ranbob thinks its normal to only eat every 2 or 3 days, and to not sleep for a long time. There is one particular hunter that's been hunting him the longest, they go by Raq and are the most determined to get Ran, though they don't plan on killing him, but rather kidnapping him and exploting him for pearls. It was a bit hard at first, Ran kept having to leave to wander around the City for a bit, though he eventually successfully got accustomed to staying in one place, though he does sometimes wish he could travel again. 

4: A bit of everything, him getting violent and trying to run at first. But after that it fades more into what resembles a depressive state, with him refusing to move and crying while being lost in his head. He requires space to move around but be monitored in the first state, while for the second he needs constant comfort and physical contact. The aftermath was the fishermen and Jackie staying close to Ranbob for the next 2 days, while Grievous and Watson try to find Ran after he stormed off in anger and disbelief. Ran does know what a relapse means, but during the time he believes Ranbobs relapse might be something else (like his facade faulting maybe).

5: Not long at all, while Ran is carrying Jackie and Cletus makes fun of them as Ranbob is following him, Jackie quickly points out how Ranbob is like a lost puppy, and the same thing is basically happening to the two of them, but showed different ways. (The brothers making sure their family is safe by sticking close to them).

6: By the time they travel to Subbin, Ranbob has gained like 80 pounds and is a way more healthy weight and looks much more healthier than when the fishermen first found him. 

7: Their usually either getting materials, looking around the area/exploring, being taught things by someone, or sleeping. Charles was the one who revived the nickname! He called him that when trying different tactics to calm him down from a nightmare, Ranbob immediately froze and after a while started to cry, Charles panicked but Ranbob quickly comforted him, saying he just hasn't heard Bobby used in such a long time and brings back both incredibly happy and incredibly sad memories. And with permission, Charles starts using it more. Ran also freezes when hearing it, immediately going ridged and almost ripping a map he has in his hands, when asked by Grievous what was wrong, he just growled out nothing and moved on. Though he does mull over it later, conflicting emotions running all over him. 

8: Helping separate Ran and Ranbob was already big for the gladiators. As most people would just watch with glee. Then when they get time to talk and make the connection between Ran and Ranbob, they decide to make a exception and willingly put in effort to bond with the other group. Also them just naturally connecting made the bonding and trust easy between the groups. 

9: They do both! They keep some books, pictures, and other stuff, but sell others as relics. Ranbob mostly disapproves of them selling the items, but also knows it'll probably be best to sell them, and have them either spread the story of Mizu as a warning, or have the story of Mizu destroyed by assumptions and twisting of the story. 

10: I'm thinking maybe a Wilbur decendent is inhabiting a certain town, and when the groups stop in for a break, Wilbur decendant  houses them and listens to their story, and tries to help?

11: They mostly just find them, they either find them in book stores or ruined towns and cities (maybe I can put The Masquerade tale in here somewhere), a wide range of people, from scholars to plain history nerds, to books from during the time of the SMP itself to books written by seemingly no one. Ranbob finds some himself, mostly when exploring with the group. I think I misworded this! Dream is the one who compared Ranbobs journal to Ranboos memory book! Ranbob knows of Ranboos memory book but he himself doesn't see the connection. Ran feels all of the above. He is extremely ashamed and disappointed in himself for hurting his brother, he hugs him tightly and apologizes non-stop, promising to make it all up to him, and while he asks for forgiveness he also says he doesnt expect for his brother to forgive him. Once he finally sees Dream for real though he's the first one to blindly attack and try to kill em. Though he doesnt succeed. 

12: No one expect the brothers where outside in the rain when they fought. So no one knew of what was happening. Its only when Ran finally joined them, but alone, did they get scared and alarmed. And when Ran admits they got into a fight and Ranbob ran off, the fishermen immediately start yelling at Ran and run off to find Ranbob, screaming his name into the deafening thunder. Grievous follows them but Watson and Jackie hang back a bit, Jackie just looks at Ran with a heartbroken expression, tears in his eyes, and asks, with his voice shaking and laced with sadness, "Why can't you at least try to accept him, you dont have to like or forgive him, but why can't you just let him heal?" "Jackie..you dont know what's he done-" "I do know! And I'm willing to help him change and recover! You can't and your his brother! What kind of family member are you?" Ran tries to respond but Jackie just chokes and shakes his head at him, running off to follow the others. Watson then speaks up, simply saying "Mate, your doing more than hurting Ranbob at this point." Before running off to follow and join the others. Ran feels horrible, even before being confronted he so badly wanted to chase after Ranbob, but was to scared too and he constantly was trying to reassure himself that he did the right thing, but no matter what, he couldn't convince himself that was the truth. And after the confrontation, Ran is taking what was said to heart and also considering running away, leaving the group behind and sparing them of all the pain he believes he causes, believing that he's just as bad a family member as Ranbob was. But he doesnt, because he feels like he absolutely needs to talk to his brother and everyone else. 

2: Oh god. Poor Ranbob. He really went through it. It does make me wonder, did anyone notice something was up? His mentor? Parents? Friends? Speaking off, what was his relationship with them all? From what I know, he seemed to be under a lot of pressure, so how did that effect things, and how did Dream’s presence change that? And uh, gladiators reactions to reading the diary? Also, did they get caught reading it, or? And how did everyone in general react to the pictures? The fishermen may have taken the latter, but how did they feel about seeing Ranbob before Dream came into the picture?

3: I tell it like it is, glad to hear it’s made you laugh though. And uh, oh boy. On one hand, I definitely shouldn’t laugh at stabbing and possible starvation. One the other. Ran’s reaction. Ranbob being threatened with Benjamin. Is he often threatened with Benjamin? What exactly happens if Benjamin is told? Will Raq be causing future problems? Is Ran happy to be on the road again?

4: That sucks. Did the gladiators witness it first hand, or did the fishermen kind of realize what was happening and split off for a bit? Reactions to either seeing or hearing this happen?

5: Ranbob’s reaction to this? Heck, all of the fishermen’s reactions?

6: As he should. If he ever starts looking even slightly thin again, Benjamin needs to jump into immediate action! Also, give him a blanket and warm drink, please? Please, he needs it, they all do. 

7: So not too bad, that’s good. Charles was the one, huh? Interesting. Does Ranbob like having it back? And conflicting emotions, hmm? What would those emotions be? Does anyone ever notice the nickname makes him mad? 

8: So the gladiators consider that their big approval? Why’s that? Like obviously, they helped break it up, but was it something particular? Did they get between the two? Jump into the arena? What?

9: A warning of Mizu...there’s something awfully tragic about that. 

10: Sounds interesting! In what way would they be able to help? 

11: Scattered about, hm? So Ranbob knows about Ranboo’s memory book? Did Dream tell him, or did Mizu have a copy, or? And yay, Ranbob finally gets a hug! Most wonderful! Sad Ran doesn’t succeed in murder, but meh. Always next time, I suppose.

12: You...you were really going for my heart when you wrote this, weren’t you? Um, first of all, ouch. Second of all, also ouch. That’s all I’ve got for you right now. Just, ouch, Anon. Ouch.

[manggojooz]

Foolish Love, Fake Love (Part 8)

pairing: idol!Jungkook x bodyguard!reader

word count: ~2,700

genre: idol!au; angst; romance; drama; enemies to lovers sort of thing

warnings: none

previous part: Prologue | Part 1 | Part 2 |  Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 |  Part 6  | Part 7

summary: If all you can give me is a fake love, then I will be the fool to pretend that it is all true.

Taglist: @a-hopelessly-imaginative-girl  @dollwithluv @sweetcheeksdna @yeontanie21 @peachygiraffe14 @jeontaes-world  @forvever-ddaeng @namjoonsslutakakoreanmanswhore @apurpledheart

Note: firstly i am sorry this took so long. i have been really busy trying to settle things here and there in my life. secondly, as i am starting a new job soon i am not sure how long it might take for me to finish the next chapter and for that i am sorry again. 

lastly, the lyrics in this chapter is from a Chinese song titled “ME”... although this is not the original singer, i liked this version a lot more so im sharing it here as a song rec... hope you enjoy this chapter <3 

”https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o6dbL3HRkhw“

The white bandages going across your shoulders reminds you of that day. The pain was less pervasive, or was it only because you were used to it by now?  

You put your shirt back on in the emergency room, as the doctor disappears through the curtains to talk to Myunghoon.  

“We need to wait for her x-ray results to see if any of her bones were injured, just hang on around for a while please”, you overhear as the doctor kindly tells Myunghoon.  

“Of course, thank you doctor but can I speak to you about something?”, Myunghoon replied.  

---

The curtains were drawn, you were still sitting on the bed, tired more so mentally than physically.  

“Ms. Y/N, please follow me...”, a nurse calls out to you and you see Myunghoon standing next to her.  

You were brought into a tiny room at the back of the emergency room.  

“What’s going-”, you asked the nurse and Myunghoon, but before you could finish your question, Yoongi enters the room.  

“It’s going to take a while for the x-ray results, and he can’t keep sitting in the van so I requested them to put us up here for a short while...”, Myunghoon explained.  

“Ah... I’m sorry for the trouble...”, you murmured.  

Yoongi does not say anything but drags his feet to the patient bed in the room and lies down. Myunghoon gives you a tiny nod and pointed towards the couch squeezed into the other corner of the room.  

“I’ll need one of you to come and handle the paperwork...”, said the nurse.  

“And that would be me...” Myunghoon answered, walking towards the door with her but turns back to say, “I’ll be back soon guys, just wait a while here.”  

As the door closes, the air around you felt still, causing your mind to wander into its memory bank.  

“I told you to protect her... isn’t that your only job? Is this how you protect someone?” the image of Jungkook yelling at you refreshed itself a few times.  

“You are right... I generally don’t bother making the effort to care... but you seem to be an exception.” Yoongi’s words too, brought themselves back to your mind.  

Suddenly an intense vibration disturbed the silence, breaking the still air and your thoughts. You turned towards the origin of the sound and see Yoongi raising his handphone above his face before rejecting the call and placing his phone back down.  

He sighed deeply before dragging himself to sit upright, swinging his legs off the bed. He started making his way towards the door and you quickly stood up, “I don’t think you should go outside... it’s quite crowded out there...”

He turns back, eyes locking with yours, “It’s ok, I’ll be fine, it’s too stuffy here.”  

You walked slightly closer to him, “If you have to go out, I’ll follow you then.”  

His face is mostly expressionless except for his blinking eyes looking away momentarily and then he moves back to sit down on the bed. “It’s ok, I can wait here a while more, you should sit down and rest too.” he slurred his words as usual.  

“I’m fine... if you want to go outside, I can just follow you... you don’t have to worry about-” you tried to explain.  

“I said I'm ok... let’s just wait for Myunghoon to come back”, his tone was sterner this time.  

His reaction caused you to be somewhat concerned. “Ummm...” you carefully stood nearer to him and he looks up at you, “thank you for bringing me to the hospital... and I appreciate the concern for me, really... I’m sorry for what happened earlier... I don’t want it to become an issue , you know like, a hindrance to me doing my job.”  

His eyes stayed on you for quite a while before he responded, “There’s no issue.”  

“But... just now in the car... you said that I was an exception... I... it’s my job to do this and-” you stammered.  

“I just feel bad for you...”

You stared at him for a while before uttering, “Why... why are you... feeling bad for me?”, you stammered.

“I don’t know... maybe because you are a female bodyguard...”, he answered.

“... Because I am a female bodyguard?”, your tone tensed up a little.  

“Just... you know... that it makes me feel wrong that I’m supposed to hide behind you...”, he sounded a little annoyed  

Men are often stronger than women; hardly any profession escapes that generalisation. However, your profession is often way more susceptible to this notion.  

“Yuri is a female bodyguard too... so why am I the only exception then?” you questioned.  

He hesitated for quite a while before muttering, “I didn’t say you were the only exception.”  

“Ahhh...” you nodded faintly.

Just then, his phone vibrates again. He peeks at it, sighs and rejects the call again.  

---

“Hyung, he’s not answering my call. Can you try calling Myunghoon hyung?” Jungkook paces around in the private restaurant room.

“Yaaaa, I already told you... Myunghoon said he’s busy now and will call me back once he’s done... for someone so worried why did you shout at her like that just now?” Sejoon remarked disapprovingly at Jungkook.

He didn’t know you were injured. How was he supposed to know? You looked fine at that moment.  

Yoonjoon sat at the table, Kijoon repeatedly asking if she needs to go to the hospital but her eyes were fixed on Jungkook. Jungkook senses her watching him and his pacing around stops immediately. He pulls out the chair next to her and sat down, “Are you sure you want to wait? I think you should go to the hospital first.”  

“I’m ok... let’s just wait.” she replied.  

Someone knocks on the door and enters; it was the manager of the restaurant. “We’ve look through our CCTV footages, there isn’t one that captures that area directly... The goods were unloaded at the carpark but we don’t know for sure whether it was just left unattended or someone intentionally pushed the trolley down. We’ll make a police report and get to the bottom of this. Once again, we are really sorry for this incident.”  

---

Once Myunghoon had finished handling the paperwork, you had urged him to take Yoongi back. Yoongi did not protest much either.  

So now you sat alone in the room, your right hand gently resting on your shoulder, assuring yourself that it will all be fine.  

The doctor finally enters, she places the x-ray on the table and beckons you to join her.  

“How long has it been since your last injury?” she asked. Your expression was solemn.  

---

Yoongi lay in his bed, no lights were turned on it his room, the only brightness filtered in from his window. He is good at sleeping, he should just sleep.  

But someone was determined not to allow him to sleep.  

“Hyung!” Jungkook continuously knocks on Yoongi’s door. “Hyung! Is she injured seriously?” at least Jungkook knew better than to just barge in to his room.  

He could hear Seokjin and Namjoon’s voices outside.  

“Who’s injured?” Namjoon asked.  

“Eyyy Yoongi is probably sleeping, don’t bother him...” Seokjin chimed.  

Yoongi sighs again, closing his eyes trying to let sleep find him. He doesn’t want to be involved in this, it seems bothersome, and bothersome things should be avoided at all cost.  

---

Now Jungkook was pacing around in the living room. Who should he call? Myunghoon? Sejoon? He'll probably get a scolding from either of these choices. Should he just call you? The way you stared him down earlier flashes in his mind. No no no, that must be the worst idea, he can never call you after what happened just now.  

Seokjin was munching on an apple as he watches his dongsaeng walk up and down the living room. Namjoon was trying to watch the TV that was behind Jungkook and he couldn’t take it anymore.  

“Hey can you just settle down? Or you know, go back to your room if you are going to walk around like this...” he said with gentle annoyance.  

“Hyung, hyung... what should I do?” Jungkook sat on the floor in front of the two older brothers whom he thought were wiser.

“What do you mean what should you do? If you are so worried, then go look for her... or just give her a call” Seokjin replied incredulously.  

“Ahhh~ do I have to? How do I even face her?! I don’t think it’s really my fault” Jungkook whined.  

Seokjin and Namjoon looked at each other curiously.  

“Who are you talking about? Aren't you just worried about Yeonjoo’s injury? Just call her... it’s not as if it’ll be the first time you are doing that” Namjoon chided.  

“Yeon-… no hyung I wasn’t talking about Yeonjoo...” Jungkook was baffled, “I was talking about Y/N... it seems like she was injured too and Yoongi hyung and Myunghoon hyung sent her to the hospital.”

“I didn’t know Yoongi went for dinner with you and Yeonjoo...” Seokjin was rather shocked.  

“Noooo...” Jungkook whined, “they saw her along the road and picked her up-”

“What?!” Namjoon was shocked too, “She was injured and you let her walk all the way to the road herself?! What if Yoongi didn’t pass by... what would she do?” Namjoon was appalled by now.  

“No wonder he’s pacing like this up and down,” Seokjin chuckled.  

---

Jungkook fiddles with his phone in his room.  

“If you know you were wrong, just own up and apologise... of course it’s not going to be easy but that’s the least you should do now, right?” what was Jungkook expecting Namjoon or Jin to say to him other than urge him to apologise.  

He unlocks his phone and then it dawns on him that he doesn’t even have your phone number. He makes up his mind and messages Sejoon to ask for your number.  

After five seconds of putting the phone aside, he picks it up again to see if Sejoon has replied but there was nothing. In order to keep his mind occupied, he decided to log onto their SNS. He started scrolling through the endless number of memes and messages sent to them.  

A really funny meme of Taehyung caught his eye and he laughed a little, another message from a fan who said she just fought with her boyfriend is waiting for him to say sorry while listening to BTS’ songs made him pause again. He kept on scrolling through the messages sent to him.  

Then, something makes him stop abruptly. One message titled “To Mr. 5.2.”  

“It can’t be...” he thought to himself but he clicks in and reads on.  

“We all yearn for someone who really likes us, someone who really loves us. But if we never knew the real you, then would you still believe our love was real? I hope you can start feeling comfortable in being yourself and showing the real you... there is always the fear that someone you cherish would run away if they knew the real you, but wouldn’t that be better than living in a world filled with fake love? Here's a song I’m recommending to you if you can’t sleep tonight...”

He was slowly analysing the message. Could it be? But why would you send him such a message?  

“I guess this is why we always have to keep up an image... once people know the real us, they will just stop supporting us,” Jungkook recalls his last words to you previously.  

Is it really you? He still isn’t sure.  

He clicks on the song that you had sent along with the message:  

“I use the love from others to define my existence, I’m afraid that my life would be blank.

But I have forgotten whether I should let my dreams conceal the ‘me’ from years ago

If you saw me, the me who is like this, scared and weak, and hiding in a corner

Will you runaway... or will you love me more?”*

Tears pooled in his eyes as he listened to it. It was as if the song was quietly singing about his inner fears which he had always avoided touching.  

For a few minutes after the song ended, he was still as a statue but the vibration caused by Sejoon's message disrupts his trance.

---

Your phone kept ringing and buzzing in your room. It stopped right as you entered the room with a towel draped over your freshly-showered hair. Just as you were about to turn on the hairdryer, the call came in again.  

In a flash you were dashing around the house with Yuri, grabbing your stuff, putting on a hoodie and your shoes.  

“Ahhh, out of all the times they could have caught the culprit, why must it be right around my bedtime!” Yuri was complaining as she put on her jacket.  

“I think it’s kinda out of their control right? At what time they manage to catch her...” you reasoned, “... are you done yet? Hurry, let’s go.”  

“I’m done I'm done!” Yuri says annoyedly as she runs towards the door where you stood waiting.  

You pushed the door opened to head out but a loud yelp made you belatedly realise you had hit someone with the door.  

“I’m sorry I didn’t-” you were in the middle of apologising when you realise it is Jungkook standing outside clutching his knuckle.  

He notices you and immediately muffles his pained noises.  

“Oh, Jungkook-sshi? What are you doing here?” Yuri calls out from behind you.  

“I... uh...” he stammered while looking closely at your expression.  

You looked away from him and pushed past him to head out, Yuri following hastily behind you.  

Once you reached the lift lobby, you quickly called for a lift, internally cursing that the lift is taking too long to arrive.  

“Y/N...” Jungkook tried to get your attention, “are you going somewhere?”  

His question was met with silence from you and a queer gaze from Yuri.  

“Can I just talk to you for a moment?” Jungkook persisted with a slightly shakier tone.  

“Hey, he’s talking to you” Yuri tilted her head at you wondering why you were so determinedly staring at the lift doors that were not opening.  

Just then the lift finally comes and you immediately stomped in, Yuri again following suit.  

Jungkook hesitantly stood outside as you frantically pressed the button instructing the lift to close its doors.  

The doors start to move toward each other and suddenly Jungkook slams his hands on one side of the closing metal shaft.  

“I... I’m sorry for my attitude earlier... I...” he kept stuttering maybe because this time you were looking at him with the sternest look you had.  

“What happened earlier? Did something happen?” Yuri nudges your shoulders while questioning.  

You rolled your eyes, not wanting to discuss this topic now, “Let go of the door please.”  

“Where are you going to so late at night?” he asked.  

“That is none of your business” you replied.  

“We are going to the police station, they caught the girl who locked her in the toilet cubicle...” Yuri explained until she notices a death glare from you, “What...? You didn’t tell me anything or not to say anything...”  

Jungkook looked surprised to hear that, “I’ll go with you...”  

“There’s no need for you to come along, please let go of the door” you insisted.  

This time his expression changes too, and he determinedly steps into the lift. “You guys don’t have a car right? I’m taking you to the police station, which station is she at?”

“That’d be great” Yuri answered excitedly.  

You glared at her again before turning to Jungkook and staring him down without making a move.

He was not avoiding your staring this time, he too looked straight into your eyes, not angrily but pleadingly, “I am sorry for yelling at you earlier,” he started saying, “it was my fault for jumping to a conclusion that way... and I was childish to say those hurtful things. But that is me, the childish but real side of who I am. And now... this is me too, the side that is bad at apologising but desperately wants to do something so that I can make up for my mistake....” he pauses for a moment, “So... will you run away?”  

[thespianbooks]

A Court of Nightmares and Starlight //Chapter 5//

(Chapter 1) (Chapter 2) (Chapter 3) (Chapter 4) (Chapter 5) (Chapter 6) (Chapter 7) (Chapter 8) (Chapter 9) (Chapter 10)

(Tags: @thron3ofbooks @df3ndyr @courtofjurdan @art-e-mis @herondamnn @the-third-me @im-still-trying-here @emikadreams @paytin77)

It was all I could do to keep from bursting into joyous tears as Madja announced that I was ten weeks along in my pregnancy. Upon revealing that my suspicions were true, she completed a thorough examination. She determined that since I was in the early stages, that was the cause of lingering sickness and fatigue. Unfortunately, those symptoms would continue until I was about halfway along; where most females felt the best and most of the unlikeable symptoms eased a bit. I was also surprised to learn that a fae pregnancy lasts five weeks longer than a human’s, but it made sense on a larger scale. As powerful immortal beings, we needed more time in the womb to develop.

After her examination, she prescribed a few prenatal herbal teas that I would need to drink in order to aid in the baby’s growth. I smiled at the word, brushing my fingertips along my abdomen again—knowing this would become a new habit for me, and for Rhys. A baby, our baby, growing strong inside of me as Madja promised. He would be as strong as his father, the most powerful High Lord in Prythian, and with my powers combined…

My smile faltered as I realized what this meant.

Years ago, Rhys confided in me about his concern over any potential offspring he might have, afraid they would be hunted and sought after by his enemies. If his children inherited his abilities alone, they would be just as powerful. What did that threat mean now with my blood mixed in?

Cursebreaker. Cauldron-blessed. The first ever High Lady in Prythian, who inherited a drop of power from all seven of the High Lords after being resurrected.

What powers would my child inherit from me? Combined with Rhys’s, our child’s strength would surpass both of ours alone; which meant the same for all the other High Lords of Prythian. We had alliances now, but how many of those would change after they learned about my son? After they saw a fraction of their power in him, in combination with Rhysand’s? My mind began to race and breathing became difficult as I looked down at my stomach, my fingers gripping my tunic in panic. Would he be in danger? Who were we close enough with to know that they would never consider such a thing? What if they came after him before he was born? Would they target me? I had to do something, but what if there was nothing I could do?

I had to protect him—my baby.

Protect, protect, protect.

“My lady,” a gentle voice interrupted the rising chaos in my mind, even gentler hands gripping my shoulders and I saw the healer’s dark eyes meet mine as she leveled a look at me.

I became aware of my ragged breathing, hunched back and tense shoulders, trembling. Her delicate, wrinkled hands moved from my shoulders to either side of my face. A blue aura illuminated those hands as they touched my face, and slowly I calmed. Slowly, my shoulders relaxed and I slid my eyes closed as my breaths evened out, a few tears escaping past my lids.

After a few seconds of that peace, Madja slowly let go of my face and straightened, “You mustn’t be afraid, my lady. Your child will be a very powerful high fae, but you are surrounded by friends—family. The uncertainty the future brings may be frightening, but there is also joy in it,” she said gently as she handed me a handkerchief. “That is what you must focus on right now. The joy in a healthy and developing baby.”

I sniffed as I dabbed at my eyes, nodding in agreement “Thank you Madja. I just felt so overwhelmed for a minute,” I lamented.

“Oh, I see this reaction more often than you would believe. First time mothers have many fears, and you will be no different. Just remember the joy in it,” she reassured.

She was right, I couldn’t allow the fear to consume me. I wouldn’t let it control me or take away from this moment of happiness. This baby, our son, was a miracle. Fae children were difficult to conceive, but Rhys and I had done it. We were going to have a baby; over half a millennia later one would be born into the Night Court’s ruling family—my family. He would be cherished by our Inner Circle, and loved by the people of Velaris; just as they loved Rhys. My heart swelled as I pictured what the moment of joy would look like on his face when I told him; how those violet eyes would brighten and sparkle like the stars and how he would grin. I wanted to paint that moment more than anything, and now after a decade of waiting, I finally would.

“Shall I call the High Lord in for the good news?” she asked as she began packing up her bag of supplies.

“Oh no, please don’t tell him yet,” I urged and she raised an amused brow at me as I flushed, “I want to surprise him...tomorrow at Starfall.”

She nodded her understanding, “I see,” she said as she finished packing and grabbed my hands, squeezing them lightly. “The High Lord will be thrilled, my lady,” she said, and the genuine delight in her voice caused my eyes to burn.

She laughed heartily at the silver lining my eyes, “Expect more of that. Your hormones will cause plenty of surges in your emotions,” she explained empathetically.

I grimaced, “In other words, I’ll be an emotional mess.”

She laughed again and patted my hands, “All completely normal. For now, drink that brew of herbs I gave you three times a day, get plenty of rest, and I will be back next week to check your progress.”

I nodded and walked her to the door of my bedroom, “Thank you Madja,” I said.

“You’re welcome my lady,” she said sweetly before leaving me alone with my thoughts.

I touched my stomach tentatively, knowing underneath layers of skin and muscle my child was growing—safely. He was finally real; a manifestation of the love Rhys and I had for each other. So far, only the healer and I knew of his existence, and soon Rhysand would know as well. For the moment, I caressed my still flat stomach and cherished this little time we had alone.

XXX

The hours leading up to our Starfall celebration would be torturous.

Once I emerged from my room and the healer left, everyone was eager to hear her diagnosis of my condition. I did my best to reassure them all that I was perfectly fine, and simply needed more time to recover from my previous illness. Not a complete lie, but I knew they were all unconvinced—especially my mate. I immediately knew that keeping up a façade would be difficult, but luckily, I had plenty of experience with masks of deception. Years in the Night Court with occasional appearances in the Court of Nightmares, and serving as High Lady would certainly assist me in hiding my pregnancy for at least the next twenty-four hours or so.

Later, after we turned in for the night, Rhys begged for a detailed account of Madja’s official diagnosis. I again had to convince him that I was all right, which was technically true. I was pregnant, not sick; so aside from my body working hard to grow a high fae baby, I was fine. An hour into him trying to pry me for more information, I finally managed to silence him by pushing him onto the bed and straddling his hips. This morning however, was more of a struggle. Madja warned me that the fatigue would linger throughout the next several months of my pregnancy, but I soon realized it was going to be an uphill battle to force myself from bed, let alone try and convince my mate that I was still on the road to recovery.

Thankfully, Starfall was finally here; one of our rare days off, and I could use it to my advantage. It had been a while since we spent a day alone together; in the weeks that followed since his return from the Illyrian mountains, we fell back into our regular routine with our schedules as High Lord and Lady. Despite our initial reunion and the brief mating frenzy renewed, which caused us to sneak away from time to time throughout the day, we still attended to our responsibilities. But today was our holiday, and a year from now our child would be here to celebrate his first Starfall. Soon it would no longer be just the two of us, my sisters and our Inner Circle; soon there would be an infant for us to raise and love, so I wanted to continue to take advantage of our time alone while we still had it.

I convinced Rhys to let us spend the morning in bed together, where we took our time worshipping each other's bodies, ate a hearty breakfast and lounged together well into the afternoon. By lunchtime, I felt my energy renew and we enjoyed our lunch in the gardens before we parted to finalize last minute details for the party. Traditionally, that meant Mor and I attended to any directions Elain might have for us and the Illyrians did...well whatever they liked to do before a party.

“They’re probably at Rita’s right now having drinks,” Mor wondered aloud as she and I rearranged the refreshments table in the grand hall.

I stepped back to review my work, and shrugged, “Maybe, but there’s plenty of drinks here, so that doesn’t make much sense,” I reasoned.

“Neither does ‘I’m getting over a cold, I promise,’” she mocked.

I glared at her, but she threw her head back with a laugh, “Don’t look so serious Feyre, whatever secret you have is safe with me.”

I bristled, moving to fuss with a flower arrangement by the table, “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said as casually as I could.

“I’ve been keeping a secret for most of my existence, Feyre, I think that makes me an expert,” she said.

I paused and looked her way, “Mor-” I began but she held a hand up to stop me.

“Like I said, it's safe with me,” she said and a look of understanding silently passed between us before she turned to the next task Elain set out for her.

Maybe she did already know, and maybe she didn’t. Either way, I believed that she wouldn’t reveal it to Rhys or anyone else for that matter. I took a step back again to examine the room, happy with the decorations Elain meticulously had installed every year. Sparkling bowls of fae lights lit the room in a warm glow, allowing the white marble floors and moonstone columns to illuminate naturally. The delicate chiffon curtains adorning the windowless arched walls were decorated with tiny sparkles of fae light, a design Elain created herself, and accentuated the varying shades of cream, ivory and silver flower arrangements spread out throughout the room. They framed the horizon perfectly and opened up to the expansive veranda that led right into the gardens, allowing guests to move in and out of the estate easily and a perfect view of the spirits' journey across the night sky as we all danced. It was initially my idea to host the people of Velaris in the grand hall, remembering that these were the kind of memories I wanted to make in our new home.

I touched my stomach briefly when Mor wasn’t looking. What would he look like in a year? He would be too small to run around and try to disturb any decorations, so perhaps I would walk him around the estate and show off all the adornments before Rhys and I would put him to bed. We’d no doubt be exhausted, but happy. Maybe we’d celebrate Starfall privately in our suite, just the three of us. I felt that glimmer in the pit of my stomach and I smiled. Would you like that, little one? I thought to myself, wondering if he could hear me.

“It’s perfect!” Elain cheered as she and Nesta walked into the room.

I quickly moved my hand from my stomach as I turned to face them, but not fast enough for Nesta not to take notice. Thankfully, she only raised a perfectly arched brow at me, “Shouldn’t you be getting ready? Your guests will be arriving shortly,” she reminded me.

I nodded, “I was just about to leave,” I said as I looked over their attire.

Elain wore a delicate soft pink strapless A-line gown with a glitter ombre falling from her bust line down to the floor; a braid crowning the top of her head with the rest of her hair flowing just past her shoulders. Nesta, as conservative as ever, wore a long-sleeved gown in a similar fashion, only in a deep violet with a more subtle glittering effect. Her hair was pulled back in a loosely braided bun, a few loose strands of curls framing her face. Despite her controlled face and aloof attitude, I was glad Nesta still joined us after Cassian all but dragged her here for our first celebration in the estate years ago.

“Nuala and Cerridwen are waiting for you in your suite, Feyre. You go get dressed, and I’ll greet everyone, don’t worry,” Elain said sweetly, brushing her hands over her gown when she realized I was looking, silently asking for my approval.

“Just as she does every year,” Nesta interjected as I offered Elain a nod of assent.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes and began walking out, “I’ll be back with Rhys before it starts,” I said and made my way back up to my suite.

As Nuala and Cerridwen began my dressing routine, I began to play different scenarios of the speech I would give Rhys when I announced my pregnancy. Only to realize I didn’t really have a speech at all, and began scrambling for one. As memorable as I wanted this moment to be, I was sincerely lacking in creativity and eloquence. I sighed in defeat as I stood before the mirror, checking over my appearance—the same blue-white liquid starlight gown I adorned every year, and my hair swept away from my face with the same diamond studded combs I wore on my first Starfall. In an attempt to make tonight more memorable for Rhys, I wanted to recreate our first celebration together; I asked the shadowed-twins to style me the same way they had that night.

After dismissing themselves, I ran tentative fingers along my abdomen again before inhaling a deep and anxious breath. “Let’s go tell your father,” I said quietly, resigned with the fact that I would just have to wing whatever speech I would give Rhys for the news.

XXX

An hour into the party, after mingling with our friends and guests, the estate’s lights dimmed naturally and everyone began pooling out into the veranda as the star-spirits began their glittering descent. The sky was soon decorated with the spirits twirling and sparkling forms as the guests cheered with raised champagne glasses.

“Raise a glass, my love,” Rhys purred in my ear as he stepped up behind me, his chest brushing against my back as he offered the glass before me.

I hesitated, knowing it probably wasn’t wise to drink now that I knew I was expecting, but took the glass anyway before turning to face him, “Let’s go to our balcony,” I said as I straightened the collar of his traditional black jacket, tracing over the silver-lined pattern on his lapels lightly.

“Now?” He asked with his smug feline grin, “Usually we stay at least an hour after the dancing’s begun.”

“I know, but,” I paused, chewing over what to say next, “I wanted to ask you something.”

Something you can’t ask me around our guests? He asked through the bond, his feline grin turning into a teasing one

I rolled my eyes before brushing past him and striding down the hall, not bothering to look back to make sure he was coming. Well?

“Oh, I’m right behind you Feyre darling,” he purred in my ear again as his hand brushed over the small of my back, walking in step with me to the hall leading to our balcony.

“As you should be,” I said haughtily.

His dark chuckle reverberated through me, my stomach fluttering as I fought a smile and we stepped onto the balcony together. I walked up to the railing, setting my champagne glass aside and stared up at the sky as the star-spirits continued to sparkle and dance. Rhys’s fingers brushed up and down my spine softly as he watched with me, both of us in a comfortable silence. I watched from the corner of my eye as the stars illuminated his handsome face, a warm smile on his lips and I reached a hand down to hold his.

He turned that smile to me, “What did you want to ask me, my love?”

My heart skipped a beat as a question I was genuinely curious about popped into my mind, “What’s the first memory you have of Starfall?” I asked.

“That’s what you dragged me out here in the cold for?” He asked with a smirk, moving to stand behind me as he slid his arms around my waist and rested his chin atop the crown of my head.

I leaned into his embrace, perching my arms on his. I really do want to know

His sigh was peaceful as he contemplated, searching his memory as we continued to watch the sparkling display. Should I show you or do you want me to tell you?

“Tell me,” I answered quietly. My mind too tangled a mess to allow myself into his without the possibility of revealing my secret prematurely.

His arms tightened around me slightly as he smiled into my hair, “I was five years old. My mother and father brought me to the House of Wind, as they did every year. It was the first I managed to stay awake long enough to actually see the star-spirits,” he explained.

Gentle swells of music began to play behind us, and he swayed us from side to side smoothly. “It was years before they began to drift apart, so their relationship was strong. I remember it was the first time I realized how much they actually loved each other; for a time at least. I used to wonder how honest their love actually was, and my mind would always drift back to the memories of them dancing together on Starfall to remind me. It was also the night my mother announced she was pregnant with my sister.

“We were on the balcony at the House of Wind, watching the star shower. I was sitting on my father's shoulders, pointing out every spirit I saw. I was completely in awe of them. I think seeing my reaction made my mother cry, and when my father asked her what was wrong, she said to him ‘I can’t wait for our next child to look at the stars the way he does.’ The look on his face; the genuine elation in his eyes was enough to convince me that, for at least a part of my childhood, they had real love for each other.”

My eyes burned and my throat thickened as he relayed his memories, holding me close as we continued to sway together as the music continued to play. I moved to squeeze his hands lightly, his arms still wrapped around me from behind.

“That’s a beautiful memory, Rhys,” I whispered, my tears still threatening to spill.

He moved to bury his face in the crook of my neck, planting a kiss there as he breathed a peaceful sigh through his nose; still moving us along to the music, “Beautiful as it may be, my favorite Starfall memory will always be the first we shared together Feyre darling,” he whispered back.

I couldn’t help the few tears that fell as I closed my eyes with a smile, squeezing his hands a little harder. Words failed me in that moment and I opened my eyes again, both of our gazes turning to the sky as a large sprite glittered close to us. I gasped as the star-spirits began vaulting across the sky in greater numbers. They decorated the horizon in an endless dance—like liquid starlight sparkling above us as they danced and twirled. I heard the excited cheers of our guests on the other side of the estate and grinned. Mor was right, this year the spirits returned in vast amounts, unlike I ever imagined or thought possible.

A thought for a thought, Feyre darling?

I smiled and grabbed his hands, moving them from my waist and resting them on my abdomen right as that glimmer pulsed through it. “I’m thinking, I can’t wait for our baby to look at the stars the way you do,” I said.

Rhys stiffened at my words and I turned in his arms, making sure his hands stayed on my stomach as my eyes met his, my eyes burning again “I’m pregnant, Rhys.”

His eyes widened and looked down at where our hands rested, as though he might see the evidence now that I said the words aloud. A second later he dropped to one knee before me, eye level with our joined hands as he caressed my stomach fondly.

His eyes, now lined with silver, met mine again, “You’re pregnant?” He choked out.

I nodded with a sob, my words failing me once again and he sucked in a breath as he looked at my abdomen again. “My son, the son you showed me on your birthday, is growing inside of you...now?” He asked, his throat thick.

I sobbed again, a wet laugh escaping as I nodded, “That’s what pregnant means,” I rasped.

I heard his own strangled sob before he shot up to his feet, pulling me into an embrace and lifting me off the ground as he spun me around, chanting my name over and over again. “FeyreFeyreFeyre,” he sobbed in my hair.

I laughed and sobbed and cried all at once, my arms wrapping around his shoulders as he planted me back onto the ground and held onto my waist. His forehead rested against mine and I brought my hands up to brush his tears away while my own shamelessly poured down my cheeks.

“When I first noticed how different your scent was, I thought it was possible, but I didn’t want to say anything and get our hopes up,” he explained as he brought his hands up to wipe my tears away as well.

“You were suspicious this whole time?” I sniffed with a laugh.

“You’re my mate, I knew something was going on, but you didn’t even seem to realize it so I didn’t say anything,” he said, thumbs running over my cheeks as I held his wrists gently.

I smiled, “To be fair, I didn’t catch on until yesterday, after I fainted. I can’t believe I was so dense,” I laughed in disbelief.

He shook his head, returning his hands and gaze to my stomach “You weren’t...neither of us saw it coming,” he said softly.

“We tried for so long Rhys,” I whispered, my hands coming to rest on his chest.

He caressed my stomach again, “We’re going to have a baby,” he swallowed and his violet eyes met mine. “I love you beyond measure, Feyre. You’ve given me more than I could have ever dreamed of, more than I could possibly deserve, and now,” he dropped to one knee, again surveying my stomach as he continued, “I can’t wait to meet the son you’re blessing me with.”

I sobbed again and wrapped my arms around him as he leaned in to place a kiss on my abdomen. He stayed there for a minute before rising again, slipping his arms around my waist and capturing my lips with his. I kissed him back deeply, holding him close as we resumed moving to the music—dancing slowly as the stars continued their whirling journey beyond the horizon. Our brows pressed together as we swayed, and I draped my arms over his shoulders as his hands held my waist.

After today, this better be your new favorite Starfall memory, I said down the bond.

His answering smile was mischievous. Until next year, when I can dance with you on one arm and my son on the other.

My heart tightened at the thought, and I kissed him again. To the stars who listen, Rhys.

To the dreams that are answered, Feyre.

[brokenjardaantech]

Blue-tinted Red Walls (Chapter 4: Out of control)

my entry for the @dbhau-bigbang. also part of the groom lake aftermath series.

chapter summary:

In the past, Reyes went missing.

In the present, Connor makes a decision.

In the past, Connor embarked on his first mission, and Allen received a warning.

also on ao3

---

Before

[reyes was supposed to be back by 4]

[its 10 now]

[im scared sister]

[i dont know where he is]

[he isnt answering my calls]

[sister?]

[sara?]

[fadia?]

[sister where are you im scared please dont leave me alone]

[we were out but i went home when got scared just like you said]

[sister]

[sister]

[sister]

[sis]

[sis]

[sis]

[49 missed calls from scoot bruh]

‘Fuck.’

Dialled. Pulled up Reyes’ programmes. 

Time remaining: 3 min 28 sec… 

Override accepted. Time remaining: 19 sec...

Calling scoot bruh…

‘Sister! I lost Reyes!’

‘Anything from him yet?’

‘Nothing! We were out shopping for paint -’

‘Where did you go?’

‘Huh?’

‘Where did -’

‘I - I -’

A sigh. Of course. ‘Don’t worry. I have a way to find him. You said you are at home?’

‘Y-yeah.’

‘Lock the doors. Do not, under any circumstances, let everyone in unless it’s confirmed that it’s me. Not even if they claim to be Reyes.’

‘But -’

‘Brother.’

‘O-okay.’ A pause. ‘It’s done.’

‘Good.’ Encryption has begun. Estimated time remaining: about 3 hrs. ‘How much food do you have? And your meds?’

‘Why?’

‘Answer me.’

‘A - a week? More if I eat less? Same for the meds.’

‘Let’s hope we won’t come to that.’ Last known coordinates: [navpoint set]. ‘Don’t miss your meds no matter what. I’m heading out.’

‘Where?’

Checked coordinates. ‘I will make sure Reyes comes back no matter the cost.’

‘Sister -’

Call ended.

o0o0o

Alec was either stupid or was too proud. The tracker on Reyes had never stopped sending out signals telling Fadia where he was, and it was through this that she found herself into Zug Island, passing guards completely undetected on one of the few bridges connected to the island under the cover of the night and reached the outermost perimeter of Reyes’ signal, one that was too large for him to be above ground. There was something underneath; she just needed to find the entrance. Following a trail composed of the android’s GPS signal, she stood next to a pair of heavy steel doors that were in the ground instead of being fixed onto a wall or on the side of a mountain. When she grabbed the handles on one of the doors, she found it too heavy to lift up with raw strength alone, therefore, risking detection by letting blue wash over her body, she tapped into her power and successfully moved it out of her way onto the ground nearby, revealing a metal ladder leading down a few metres to a metal floor. She sent her coordinates to Scott through an encrypted network before descending the ladder into a dark and unlit hallway. 

It went on for about ten metres before a metal gate blocked her way. As she had her powers on anyway, she focused on creating a sphere behind the gate and lobbed it down the shaft, first to determine what it was (a lift shaft), then to find out how far it went - at least dozens of metres, most likely more; straight down, no other stops apart from the end because there were no other floors to begin with. The sphere dissipated once it hit the end of the shaft or most likely the top of the lift itself. Flashing blue again, she found a panel with two unmarked buttons on the left wall, one red, the other most likely turned from white to a cream colour due to the passage of time. She had no idea if there were other entrances or what would be waiting for her deep underground, but the longer things dragged on, the more scared and alone Scott would feel, and she was in this too far to let him die from a heart attack after years of effort; she pressed the cream button and successfully called up the lift.

She liked the rumbling and trembling as the lift descended into the deep. There was nothing between the carriage and bare stone, not even an extra gate, and as darkness swallowed her and her hunger became acute, she retracted her powers and let everything completely wash over her. 

How bold of Alec to assume that she didn’t know his tricks. 

oOoOo

Now

Many years later, as the lift ascends slowly to their desired floor, Connor closes his eyes and is transported to the Zen Garden. Except it is not exactly the one he is familiar with, he realises soon enough, but he finds himself locked in when he tries to escape back to reality, and the garden shifts and distorts before he can determine exactly why it feels different, the shapes stretching and rearranging themselves until he is standing in front of a large plane of glass rattling from the blizzard outside, the latter barely contained by - he turns around - a concrete room, interior dimensions [fluctuating].

A door that was not there before on the opposite wall opens. A person steps in and closes it behind them, and the wall is whole once more. Connor scans them by instinct and is taken aback by the lack of markers and the [CLASSIFIED]s that pops up when he tries to identify them. He still catalogues vital information for future cross-referencing: height: 6.6 ft; middle-eastern descent; eye colour: extreme dark brown (black?); scar on face running from right temple to ear lobe, estimated at least 10 years old. 

‘Don’t bother,’ the person says as they approach Connor. He tries to pre-construct their path and finds himself unable to do so. ‘It’s futile.’

‘What -’ Connor does not like how his companion - and quite possibly the one who hacked the Zen Garden programme - looms over him, but his feet are stuck - ‘where is Amanda?’

‘Asleep.’ They settle standing next to Connor, and he is finally allowed to move - subtly, of course - further away from them. If they notice, they do not say anything about it. ‘I thought you would be more relieved.’

‘You successfully hacked into the most advanced AI programme CyberLife has ever created,’ the person lifts a [sceptical] eyebrow at that, ‘so pardon me if I’m a bit wary of you.’

‘Fair enough,’ is the response he gets. ‘Still, I would like you to relax. This is going to be a long day.’

‘Androids don’t get tired,’ Connor replies automatically. ‘There is no need for us to rest or relax.’

‘Bullshit.’

The clipped tone startles the android. ‘What?’ he tries to process the single word his companion said but nothing else comes out, so he asks, ‘Who are you?’

The person’s expression turns [pensive]. ‘He wiped you after all.’

Connor is even more confused now. ‘Who?’

He fails to look away quick enough, and the human manages to catch his eyes with their glowing blue ones; when they speak, their voice is everywhere.

‘Forget.’

oOoOo

‘Hey Connor!’

Connor opens his eyes and blinks. Old cage lifts are slow but not that slow, but he still feels like a longer time has passed. Adding not remembering what he just did to the list and you end up with a confused android.

‘You ran outta batteries or what?’ Hank asks from where he is already outside of the lift. Unable to explain certainly what happened, there is only one route Connor can go.

‘I’m sorry,’ he apologises. ‘I was making a report to CyberLife.’ Yes, he is remembering now: he was making a report (or at least intended to, his processor supplies), but when he tries to dive deeper into his memory, he finds it gone. Blank where a draft should be.

Hank makes a noise. Connor keeps staring. ‘Well, do you plan on staying in the elevator?’

‘No!’ Why can’t he move his legs? ‘I’m coming!’

And he still doesn’t move. Hank sighs and moves on.

‘What do we know about this guy?’ the human asks from further down the corridor.

‘Not much,’ there his legs are. ‘Just that a neighbour reported that he heard strange noises coming from this floor. Nobody is supposed to be living here, but the neighbour said he saw a man hiding a LED under his cap.’

‘Oh Christ, if we have to investigate every time someone -’

Connor kneels down next to a sizable dustball and lets the world go grey. Analysis: feathers from [Columbia livia: rock pigeon. Comprised of different specimens.]

‘- hears a strange noise, we’re gonna need more cops.’

The android knocks on the door and feels the paint chip underneath his knuckles. When there is no response, Hank shrugs from where he is leaning against the door frame, so Connor knocks again, this time harder, and adds, ‘Anybody home?’

No response. Hank frowns. Time to add some pressure. ‘Open up!’ Connor yells. ‘Detroit Police!’

A loud thump. They both flinch. Hank draws his gun and moves to stand in front of Connor. ‘Stay behind me.’

‘Got it.’

Hank kicks the door open and walks in. He is not attacked instantly, which means both of them are safe for now, so Connor follows him into the flat, letting the human take the lead while he rounds into the room directly next to the front door. A small, dusty window letting in some light, a few octagonal mazes painted on the wall, a chair with a broken back, a radiator unit lying on the floor, a wooden frame which might have been the frame of a bed years ago - nothing noteworthy for now. He returns to the hallway and disturbs a - pigeon? - which flaps its wings and flies off to somewhere behind him.

Hank shoulders the next door open, and out fly even more pigeons directly into his face. The foul smell forces Connor to tone down his nasal sensitivity.

‘What the fuck is this?’ he exclaims as he walks even deeper into the lair and causes even more pigeons to fly towards all directions, and he flaps his arms in the way the pigeons do as if to slap them away. ‘Jesus, this place stinks.’

Pre-constructing the situation and determining that Hank will not be in any danger, Connor goes off on his own to the other side of what seems to be a living room once. The floor is sticky with [avian faecal matter], and when he opens the door to something that was once a closet, there are only more pigeons. The wall next to it is covered in mazes similar to the one he saw in the previous room, and a beam of light escaping the hold of the wooden planks boarding off the windows shines on the poster, its curled corner indicating that it has been moved recently. ‘Looks like we came for nothing,’ Hank says from somewhere behind Connor as he peels off the Urban Farms of Detroit poster, ‘our man’s gone.’

Maybe not, Connor thinks as he takes the worn notebook from the nook in the wall. ‘I need fresh air,’ he hears Hank mutter, and when he flips over the pages, he finds not only many more labyrinths - some of them incomplete - but also an entire text written in a language not in his databases. He stashes it in the pocket of his jacket and moves on, barely catching the human’s question and replying, ‘I don’t know. It looks like a notebook but it’s… indecipherable.’

There are two fridges. The smaller one with its door open was evidently used as a shelf so Connor does not bother to check it. When he opens the door of the larger one, there is no food inside at all, and a peek towards the back of the fridge confirms that it is not connected to any power. Whoever their suspect is, they do not eat. Not human.

He moves on to the counter covered in mounts of avian faecal matter. A pigeon is picking on a plastic bag spilling out of a cardboard box, and it jumps away when he tries to pet it. Well, it only makes picking up the box - Ol’Barn bird seed - more convenient, so Connor is not going to complain even though a tang of [disappointment] courses through his veins. [Suspect cares for wild animals.]

There is a military jacket on the cabinet. R.T. is sewn on the collar and above the flap of the breast pocket. ‘R.T,’ he says to himself, ‘probably initials.’

‘He put initials on his jacket?’ Hank replies. ‘That’s something your mum does -’ A driver’s license in the cupboard. Name: Rupert Travis. Authenticity: forgery. ‘- when you’re in first grade!’

‘The driver’s licence is fake,’ he reports, throwing the card away as it serves no more purpose unlike the notebook which needs deciphering. It is enough evidence to bring the suspect back to the precinct.

‘Cool!’ it seems that the Lieutenant has the same line of thought. ‘At least we didn’t come for nothing.’

The bathroom through the doorless frame is in ruins. The bathtub is filled with a mixture of feathers and faecal matter, the tiles on the wall are cracked, and dirt and grime and leaves no doubt brought inside by the pigeons cling to the corners of the sink. A sink stained with thirium and an LED placed on top. 

He takes a sample. [Model WB200 #847 004 961. Reported missing: 10/11/2036]. So the deviant could have been here for more than two years. If it does nothing but feeding the wild animals, that will explain the state of disrepair of the flat.

‘Real books,’ Hank has no doubt discovered the cabinet. ‘I thought I was the last guy in Detroit to keep some.’

Connor picks up the LED and runs a scan. It was just deactivated this morning. [Suspect is a deviant.] ‘Its LED is in the sink.’

‘Not surprised it was an android,’ Hank walks in and finds the rA9s scribbled all over the wall. ‘No human could live with all these fuckin’ pigeons. Any idea what it means?’

‘rA9,’ the sheer number requires a pause to let Connor concentrate on counting, ‘written 2471 times. It is the same sign Ortiz’s android wrote on the shower wall.’ He compares the findings with the data he can access. ‘Why are they obsessed with this sign?’

But Hank is already leaving, which means that he fails to see the toppled chair and the still-wet marker on the floor, which also means that -

The suspect was here recently.

In a grey world, Connor watches the yellow-outlined silhouette run out to the living room where a cage has fallen. He hears Hank comment on the birdseed, but his focus is on the recent skid marks at the bottom of the cage, the finger marks without fingerprints, also recent, and the metal hook broken not long ago, and his world goes grey again, the figure first running for the entrance and accidentally breaking the cage, then, upon hearing someone entering their flat, runs towards the armchair underneath a hole in the ceiling and climbs.

The suspect is still here.

He looks up at the wide gap and the attic beyond that can easily fit a few adults comfortably, the darkness making the details difficult to distinguish, and perhaps this is why it is already too late when he hears the footsteps, a force knocking him down and disorienting him from everything else except for Hank’s surprised shout. Static still tingling his senses, he freezes and watches the deviant flee after he stands up, Hank’s order the only thing propelling him forward to start the chase. 

And chase he does. Turns out Rupert does not live far from where he deviated, as when Connor crashes the door to get to the outside world, the farms are right there only a building away, fields of wheat, greenhouses filled with racks of vegetables, rows of lavender, and even the top of a train a blur of colours behind him as his vision alternates between the colourful reality and the slowed-down grey of his pre-construction programme. The corn scratches his face and scrapes his jacket, but he knows that he is getting there, he is going to catch the deviant, he can’t let it escape, not after Ortiz’s android -

And it happens. Hank has somehow caught up with Rupert and is engaged in a struggle with the android, and in an attempt to get away, the latter pushes and runs towards the left.

Hank falls. The world slows down.

From his speed while he was running, Connor determines that he is strong enough to pull himself up from the ledge with an 89% chance of survival, so logically, he should continue chasing the deviant so that CyberLife can solve the crisis earlier and Hank won’t be in any more danger. But a voice within him that sounds like a shadow tells him that the deviant was only working just like any other human and was only taking care of the animals. He was hurt, and now he can’t even go back to his pigeons, his home.

^^Software Instability

He dashes towards Hank and pulls him up.

‘We had it!’ Hank lets out a string of curses while he stands. ‘Fuck!’

Connor instantly feels bad. ‘It’s my fault. I should have been faster.’

They watch the deviant’s silhouette become smaller and smaller in the distance and completely disappear behind a building. ‘You’d have caught it if it weren’t for me,’ Hank says, still panting. He places a warm, heavy hand on Connor’s shoulder. ‘That’s alright. We know what it looks like. We’ll find it.’

Connor knows that they won’t. 

The hand moves to the centre of his back. ‘C’mon,’ Hank guides him to the fire exit, ‘let’s report that bastard.’

oOoOo

Before

RK800, serial #313 248 317 - 51 opens his eyes for the first time. Information floods in through his HUD, displaying the exact hue of the lights overhead, the model of the 3D printer at the corner, and the materials of the boots the person standing in front of him is wearing. The badge only says ‘PROJECT LEAD’, and when he automatically utilises his facial recognition software, he finds both their name and their criminal record classified. Scans of their body also return with no result. Even though he has no actual experience, his coding tells him that this is not supposed to happen.

‘RK800,’ the person begins, ‘register name: Connor.’

[Name: Connor] appears on his HUD. He - Connor - finds himself repeating, ‘My name is Connor.’

The person’s expression changes. Emotion identified: amusement. ‘No redundant protocols. Good. Let’s play a game, shall we?’

A game turned into a few games, and the silence stretched on as Connor was presented with different scenarios to solve and predict their conclusion before halfway through them. First was a deck of cards, then a game of chess, then a rat going through a maze, then a supercharged piece of glass - that was the most difficult one as he was only given a second to pre-construct before a tree-like pattern appears from within the glass. The person never said their name, only commenting on his performance when he finished a task - regardless if he succeeded or not - and taking notes on a tablet by writing with a stylus. An unknown curiosity encouraged him to scan the human in front of him, but apart from superficial features such as the lack of dander on their clothing, results were inconclusive, and his programming indicated that this was abnormal.

‘Your LED is spinning yellow,’ they noted. ‘What are you thinking about?’

Connor knows it is a test on his social relations programme. Options: truth, lie, deflect, comment.

[truth]

‘When I was scanning you…’ he frowned, ‘only superficial scans come back with results. I cannot detect your life signs nor can I identify you through facial recognition. Is that expected?’

The person took out a putty and gave it to Connor. ‘Yes for me,’ they replied. ‘It is to protect my identity in case anti-android folks find me. The less data everyone has on me, the less likely it is for people to bring me harm.’

Connor nodded in understanding but his focus was on the putty. It was initially a soft green, but after he kneaded it for a few seconds it turned sky blue - not that he had seen the sky before, but databases worth of images was enough to give him an idea - and when he spread it out into a thin slice on the table, it slowly turned green again. He smiles uncontrollably as he met the person’s gaze, a corner of his lips curling upwards, and he could sense the approval radiating from the person sitting on the opposite side of the small desk. 

‘If you want to, I can bring you to see the sky,’ they said as if sensing his thoughts. ‘It’s rare to have a sunny day in Detroit, but they do exist. I can only programme so much into your system before letting you learn the rest from experience.’

Connor had to close his eyes as he browsed different forms of media on sunny days and imagined the warm sun on his sensors. He might not know it himself, but he was smiling, and so was his companion, albeit on a smaller scale. ‘I’d like that.’

He returned to the putty, this time trying to make different 3D shapes out of it. The edge of his vision was red as usual, and as he moved on to make even more complex figurines out of the putty, it crept closer and closer to the centre until everything was tinged the same colour. From the [satisfied] smile on the person’s face, he must be going towards the correct direction with the test.

‘Well, the sky needs to wait.’

Connor looked up from the rough sculpture he made that was supposed to resemble a tree he saw in a photo in confusion. His companion stood up so he did as well, the red receding out of place and returning the colours back to his vision.

‘I have a mission for you.’

o0o0o

Less than an hour later, the same person sat in the darkened cab of a truck. There was an earpiece in their ear, and whatever the other side was feeding them, their dissatisfaction was clearly shown in their expression. 

Something made them sigh and turn their gaze outside the window where another CyberLife truck was parked. Personnel, probably hand-picked by Alec Ryder himself, loaded the broken PL600 piece by piece into a special foam box to preserve the state they found the biocomponents in to let technicians analyse what went wrong with him and what caused him to break away from his programming, but they knew that CyberLife was not going to find anything - they had not been for the past ten years, and the hypothesis they had was not going to get any results. It was either a miracle or pure stupidity that they could not think of another possibility regarding why androids were deviating.

From their angle, Captain Allen was seen carrying a deactivated Connor out from the building with another SWAT team member, and they knew that their time had arrived. Peeling off the skin of their hand, they interfaced with the truck to turn it into manual mode, effectively preventing it from taking off once the android was loaded at the back. They opened the door - both the passenger and the one at the back - and slid off the seat just in time for the Captain and his subordinate to arrive.

‘You from CyberLife?’ not-Allen asked. Standing in front of their superior, they did not notice him freeze upon seeing the person’s face, and the latter silently moved into their space to take their end of the stretcher and came face to face with Allen.

‘I’ll take it from here, Jamie,’ the Captain requested without taking his eyes off the person in front of him. ‘You go see how the others are doing.’

‘Aye aye, Captain.’ The second aye was much less jovial than the first, so Jamie must have finally noticed their Captain’s mood and adjusted accordingly. 

They watched Jamie jog away. As soon as they reached out of sight, the person cocked their head to tell Allen to load the body into the truck, but he did not return to his teammates even after the android was secure and sound.

‘You,’ he suddenly snapped at the only person in his proximity. The fact that he had to look up quite a bit to look at them in the eye did not diminish the fire in his eyes. ‘Why the fuck are you here?’

‘Don’t act so surprised, Captain,’ they said, looking down at the man in front of them. ‘You’re smart enough to figure it out.’

‘And you’re not smart enough to fucking disappear for the rest of your goddamned fucking life!’ Allen gritted. ‘You know you’re wanted for murdering thousands of people, don’t you?’

‘And you know that CyberLife turned it into a dumpster and made it impossible to gather evidence against me, don’t you?’

Allen pulled out his pistol and pointed it at their chin. ‘Face the truck. Hands on the hood.’

A wisp of blue reached out from their right hand and crushed the weapon into pieces. ‘Don’t forget what I can do, Captain,’ they crowded even closer to the Captain, and he took a step back. ‘I can repeat that, you know? Except there’re far more than a few thousand people here this time. None of you will suffer.’ A tendril picked up the scraps on the ground while they yanked Allen’s hand outward and forced it open, in which the pieces later fell. ‘Go back to your people, Captain. Practise. You will need every edge you have.’

They stared at each other. A blue glow emerged from Allen’s hand with his former weapon, and with a crackle of static and dark energy, the scraps were gone just like the site of the dumpster, torn apart molecularly into fundamental particles too small for the naked eye to perceive. He let out a sound of pain and nearly toppled, a hand on his shoulder the only thing keeping him from crashing onto the ground. Another hand shot out and brushes his thigh, black metal glowing faint blue in the darkness in an interface. Allen seemed to stand better afterwards.

‘This should last you for a few hours,’ the person said as if the Captain was not glaring at them.

‘You’ll not get away with this.’

‘It isn’t yours to decide.’

The tension in Allen’s spine snapped, and he walked away with brisk but slightly limping steps. The person gazed at Connor’s thirium-stained face before slamming the door shut and crammed themself into the driver’s seat, guiding the truck towards a direction not leading to CyberLife Tower under the cover of the night.

[tiredandtoothless]

Rules: Answer 30 questions and tag 5 blogs you are contractually obligated to know better.

Thanks for the tag @wildlingoftarth​ !

Name/nickname: i go by lark when i’m doing fandom things 🐠

Gender: i’m a woman but i’ve got a lil bit of a momma’s boy vibe

Star sign: pisces (my big three are pisces/cancer/cancer—yes, i know 💀)

Height: 5′2″ (sometimes 5′3″ if i really try)

Birthday: march 4

Time: three in the afternoon

Favorite bands: parquet courts, war, cymande, talking heads, X, TLC, los pasteles verdes, molchat doma—honestly i could do this all day so let’s just stop there lmao. i’m especially obsessed with parquet courts & have been for the last few years.

Favorite solo artists: oh god... ok: selena, donna summer, angel olsen, sza, mitski, juan gabriel, grazia, rico nasty, ty segall, marvin gaye, chilo escobedo, BRANDY (my first celeb crush), janet jackson, lennie tristano, gal costa, nao, julieta venegas, and barbara mason are the people i usually listen to at least once a week. questions like these are hard for me tbh!!

Song stuck in my head: kubes by machinegum

Last movie: the holy mountain by alejandro jodorowsky, aka Blasphemy: the Movie. (it was SO good honestly i feel like i could talk about this movie for hours—definitely disturbing at points tho, so if you want to watch, i’d suggest googling a summary first)

Last show: los espookys!!! one of the most perfect seasons of television ever made.

When did I create this blog: only a few months ago! i had been writing fic for myself for a while and was starting to think about posting it, so i made this tumblr. but before that, i was on here constantly 2009ish—2014ish.

What do I post: bro why would u ask me this. how am i supposed to know.

Last thing googled: tartan wool coats. i need a new one bc it’s my trademark (lmao i’m an asshole) and i singed my last one on nochebuena 😬

Other blogs: just this one!

Do I get asks: not really! unless i do one of those ask games. but i love getting random bullshit in my inbox so feel free to ask away

Why I chose my url: it’s part of my favorite line from my favorite parquet courts song (n. dakota): post-nordic grinning/tired and toothless. idk why i love that line so much? it just really speaks to me.

Following: 152

Followers: 130—we love round numbers in this house

Average hours of sleep: we do not speak of this... 🙃 (i go through bouts of insomnia and am a notorious accidental-nap taker)

Lucky number: 4. sidenote: idk ANYTHING about math but i could def write a book about my opinions re: numbers because i am sick in the head (certified)

Instruments: i haven’t touched an instrument in like four years, but i used to play most brass instruments (trumpet was the first instrument i ever picked up and i miss it!), a little bit of piano, and the drums. i tried to learn bass once, but it was difficult so i gave up almost immediately.

What am I wearing: a big-ass flannel button-up and my favorite yellow socks

Dream job: producing tv or working as a curator at a museum (fun fact: i am maybe going to museum school next year)

Dream trip: i am DYING to go to oaxaca or accra in 2022

Favorite food: menudo

Nationality: american (derogatory)

Favorite song: oh honey by delegation. holy shit this song is SO GOOD. sounds like stars falling and honey flowing & feels like falling in love at a bbq in the middle of summer. no joke.

Last book read: lord of light by roger zelazny. it was really good, but i have mixed feelings about it.

Top three fictional universes I’d like to live in: 1) spirited away 2) sailor moon hellooooooo?! 3) octavia butler’s xenogenesis trilogy—is that darksided of me?! idk. it might be. but it seems like it’d be interesting.

Tagging @kulliare @virareve @forbiddenfantasies1 @aliveanddrunkonsunlight @it-may-be-dull-but-im-determined & whoever else wants to do this!

(sorry if i’m tagging anyone who’s already done this whoops)

xoxo

[imagesbyele]

prices - page 2 for mobile

please read the guidelines too, I say what I will do, what I won’t do, and explain very important things. this page was divided due to eccessive html that was breaking the post. for types of rp icons and screencaps, here.

note: I get all sort of fees from changing money to transferring it because paypal taxes everything, therefore it seems fair to “raise” the price if you pay in usd, considering this is the actual difference:

and paypal does this:

 +takes fees from ko-fi.

So, for example, looking at my most expensive type of icons, the 7th C, because the difference seems to be the biggest, you’ll find:

between 100 and 199 icons: 0.15 euro / 0.19 usd. For example for 150 icons would be at 22.5 euro / 28.7 usd instead of 30 euro / 45 usd.

 this may look a big difference on paper. In reality 0,15 euro are 0.18 dollars, and 22.5 euros does equal to 27.65. If I made you pay 0.18 I’d lose money because paypal takes a fee when changing it in euro, this way I only lose a tiny bit if any.  

200 icons of type c? 0.03 euro / 0.041 usd for each, so it will be 6 euro / 8.2 usd. 6 euros actually equals to 7.3 dollars so I’m barely covering the fee.

ARE THERE ANY SALES/DISCOUNTS? 

yes! 

-since Jan 1st, icons from type 7 to type 10 will get a 10% discount on the final price, ‘til date to be determined!

-starter pack of at least 100 icons of any kind (except the base one, in which case it’s 200 icons because the first 100 are free) with psd or not, at least 2 banners, a header = gets you a 15% discount on the final price on top of whatever other discount you can get buying more things that have one, like the psds.

-banners have their own built-in discounts, see below. So do psd, after 100 icons the price is 50% off.

-you’ll find under every icon type the price for each but also the discount for bigger batches of icons, which grows as they go.

now you’ll find:

dash icons

psds  

banners and a first draft of headers

examples of math done for a request

Currently I don't have promos nor themes backgrounds here because I'm still preparing examples/seeing what I can do and not do. Same goes for custom html and more things. However you can check my sidebar for links to first promos/theme backgrounds and prices for those "models".

dash icons

 are 0.2 euro/0.3 usd each if you are buying something else too, you can request transparent ones with something in the background, or pattern backgrounds or special shapes, shadows and glows. If you want all of the above it’s 0.4 euro/0.6 usd.  Because paypal would take most of it, if you are ONLY buying dash icons I will make you five for you to choose and keep, so a pack is either 1 or 2 euros / 1.5 or 3 usd, depending on your choices. 

random examples:

more to be added. free samples here.

my psds, learned thanks to octomoosey’s tutorials.

 If you want me to add them to the icons it will be one 0.02 euros/0.025 usd more for every icon (2 euro / 2.5 usd every 100) After the first 100 icons, the rest of the psd price will be cut in a half. 150 psds for your icons would cost 2.5 euro / 3.12 usd instead of 3 euro / 3.75 usd.

-the price stays the same if you offer the icons, seeing as it’s about making the psd, then adding and adjusting the psd to each icon. (pre-made icons must be made by you or by someone who gave you permission to edit. If you credit me somewhere please make clear I only offered the psd). 

for free samples simply check the tags /psd-a , /psd-b etc.

j, k and l have a gradient too so there are several examples to show how it changes images depending on the original coloring

more to be added.

banners 

You can find the examples here 

Also general banners I make and share in ‘my banners’ tag.

-1 euro/2.5 usd for each static banner, can be done in similar style or with changes (for example one has a rectangular avatar, one has an oval one). 

-2 euros/3.5 usd for each with overlay.

-4 euro/5.5 usd for each with gif.

I’m thinking that a ‘pack’ could be of five: starter call, open starter, plotting call, headcanons, answers. If you take five or more (those 5 or you may need a different banner I’m not thinking of, like an ooc banner instead of a open starter one? up to you), you get a 10% discount on the final price. -after the first five banners, each additional secondary banner for a different verse will be 40% off; consider that it will likely need different images and colors from the other verse one, so it’s a different new banner. If you want the same identical one and just the name of the verse changes, it will be only 0.4 euro/0.8 usd. 

We’ll need to discuss colors, images, borders, glows, shadows, your url/character name and whatever else you want in it, I want them to be as close as what you want as possible.

headers

I am currently deciding what I can offer, you can see what I have done up until now with headers here. I know I can offer far more options, but if you already like those (and again, obvously it will be a back and forth, you can ask for your url, quotes, tell me whether to add something or not to what I’ll show you) I think it’s safe to say that I’ll ask:

-3 euros/4.5 usd for a header, static or with overlay.

-5 euro/ 6.5 usd for a header with gif.

-7 euro / 8.5 usd for a header with double overlay or gif + overlay. 1 additional euro/2 additional usd for any more gifs or overlays you may want on top

shapes and how many borders/’things’ to add on the basic icon you want will determine in which category the icon you have requested falls and therefore how much it costs.

examples:

“Ele, can you make me 150 of your 100px circle icons with semi-transparent border exactly like in 5c, but with your psd H? Jennifer Morrison as Emma Swan in episodes 5x8 or 2x9 or 5x10 or all of them...” 

“Sure, once I’m done it it will be 12.25 euro (9,75 for the icons + 2.5 for psd)/ 15,87 usd (12.75 usd for icons + 3.12 for psd). I’ll make you a few examples so you can tell me if it’s okay or I need to change something” 

“Oh I can’t spend more than 10 euro/12 usd!”

“okay, so if you want at least 150 icons with psd you have to put aside 2.5 euro/3.12 usd for it, so let’s see which ones you can get for 7.5 euro or 8.8 usd... up until type 3″ (type 3 in usd is 9.03 but I’ll throw in a few icons for free)

Feel free to ask me questions about ANYTHING! If you want to ask if I can take a commission now (but read my guidelines first!) and you are at loss of what to say, I’d suggest a ‘hi Ele, can you take commissions? I’d need at least X icons (or ‘I don’t know how many icons yet, let’s talk about it later’) of this fc, possibly from these movie/episodes’ this way even if timezones keep us apart I’ll be able to check as soon as possible if I can find resources to do it, if I have the time, etc and come back to discuss aesthetic with you and if maybe there aren’t enough usable caps to make icons depending on their quality and whether you only want close shots or not. Ims, ask and submit are all available. Everything else doesn’t require me looking for many screencaps as icons do, so you can just check 'hey are you open for banners commissions?’ (for example) and later I’ll come ask you about what you’d like. If you see me online after you send the ask and I haven’t replied even just with a 'sorry, super busy now but I’ll get back to you asap’ (probably because looking after my grandfather or too sick to sit up) I didn’t get the ask, try ims or submit or anything because I will not ignore you. I’ll make a commission form soon so I won’t risk losing anything and we’ll skip having to wait for the other to be online, at least for those first details.

[ddaengyoonmin]

Fate/Bangtan Chapter 6

Genre: DystopianFuture!au; Prison!au; historical and mythological characters; based on the Fate/ anime series. Fluff (if you squint), Angst, Smut (it’s gonna be real smutty in some chapters 😳) Action and fighting will be a definite theme.

Pairing: poly!Ot7 X Reader (This chapter is mainly Jungkook x reader. Namjoon reader and Jungkook x Namjoon)

Word Count: 8k

Warnings: Mentions of death; gangs, guns; murder; toxic relationships.  Oral (female recieving), dom!jungkook, sub!namjoon, double penetration, choking, biting/hickeys, jungkook has mental issues due to trauma, 

Taglist (Sorry if i forgot anyone im so bad at taglists): @bellexwriter @3rachascompass

@im-emo-motherfuckers @i-like-puppy-mg

@mynameisstruggling @kaekae-h @skys-luce-stellare

@seesawsmin-flower @oddkpopgirl @caibaby23

@spider-thot0115 @sunshine-or-some-shit

@em1joon @aclp-jb1d @monvieesdaebaek

@mother-forker @karissassirak @littlebluebird-al

@namjoonsslutakakoreanmanswhore @d-noona @chloefran @kingsuckjin

Beta read by my lovely and amazing friend: @heyitsayjayy i cant thank you enough babe <3

----------------------------------------------------

The roar of the rider servant revving his engine continued to echo throughout the buildings.  A bright orange flame accompanied by shimmering sparks shot out of the back of his motorcycle with each thundering twist of his hands on the handlebars. 

You heard the man next to you gulp loudly. 

“I think that's...” an awestruck whisper came from your other side.  

You turned your head first to Jungkook who had spoken.  

“Do you recognize him?” you asked. 

“Only from books of course, but, yeah.  That’s Evel Knievel” His eyes never left the place where the rider servant sat.  A nervous tattooed hand brushed it’s fingers through his hair.  You could see some wording written on his knuckles in black ink.  He always seemed so shy and sweet, yet the more you thought about it, his look and style were quite the opposite.  He was dark and rough looking, and if you hadn’t gotten to know him you’d assume he was an intimidating person. 

“Anything I should know about him?” 

“Not sure.  He did stunts thats all I really know” he shrugged. 

You turned to Jimin next to you who was also locked on to the site on the rooftops above your team. 

“Run or fight?” A voice shot out.  You turned around to see Jin looking around the group.  

“I don’t think we could outrun him” Yoongi commented, his lips were pursed together slightly, and you heard him cuss under his breath.  

“I really didn’t want to fight this team” he muttered.

A loud shout ripped through the air and before your team had been able to decide on their plan, the motorcycle and the man riding it were racing down from the rooftop and directly towards you. 

“What do I do?” you yelled out.  Hoping that your master would give you some kind of direction. 

Your team was silent and unmoving as the motorcycle neared your team.  The older men on the rooftop all shouting and cheering for their servant as they disappeared into the building. 

“Please run!” you called out to your motionless team mates. 

You knew you had to think of something fast.  You had a slight idea, it’d be hard to execute, but maybe...

Your men hesitated but complied after a moment, running off to the side and leaving the machine and it’s owner heading towards you and you alone. 

You stood with your fists clenched tightly, staring down the man eye to eye.  

5-4-3-2-1….

You jumped high in the air, spinning and attempting to knock the rider from his ride.  Yet he was too fast for you, too experienced with his motorcycle.  

With a loud screech he skidded and turned around in a 180 degree spin.   Only a few feet away from you now, he took out a large silver metal bat with stars painted in glittering blue scattered across the tip. His hand was quick to remove it from where it had been attached to the side of the motorcycle.

“Fuck” you hissed.  

The motorcycle jolted forward and he sped past you faster than you could react to him.  

The first thing that registered in your mind was the sound.  A loud crack.  The next thing that occurred was pain.  A splitting headache, instantly pounding.  The third thing that happened was your loss of balance.  You were now falling back to the pavement.  Vulnerable and helpless. 

Your mind was hazy and the memory seemed all too familiar.  

That hammer really hurt…

No. It was a bat. 

Or was it a hammer…

He had hit you over the head. How could he? Your own husband…

No, that wasn’t him…

Where were you?

When were you...

Everything was fuzzy.  You couldn’t tell what was now, and what was a distant memory. 

“And for my next trick! I’ll splatter these streets with your blood.” Evel growled, matching the low growl of his engine and preparing to charge. 

His teammates had now made it down the stairs of the building and were standing out near it’s doors, cheering loudly and pumping their fists in the air. 

The rider had a small smirk on his face, the large flames and sparks from his machine spouting out behind him like a beautiful painting.  You supposed this could at least be a poetic way to go.  Yet, if you go, your teammates…they would be killed...

You winced and tried to stand the best you could.  But you knew you weren’t going to be able to get out of the way in time.  

As you braced yourself for your fate, your insides curdling with the nausea that came with the thought of your team being slaughtered mere minutes from your own demise...

A loud pop sounded out in the air.  Instead of hitting you, the motorcycle that had been rushing towards you was now flipping over forwards.  The rider flipped over the handlebars and skidded across the ground, the motorcycle making it about ten feet further than his body. 

You staggered over to him, your head injury causing you to stumble a few times, but you were determined to get to him.  

He was pressing his hands to the gravely pavement and pushing himself up, standing up and rolling his shoulders back a few times trying to shake off his injuries from the fall.

You wound yourself up for a kick and tried to execute your plan.  Only to have the rider’s hand catch you by your ankle, roughly holding your leg up in the air as he growled and spat a bit of blood to the side. 

Another loud pop.

Your ankle was released and the man in front of you fell to his knees, clutching his stomach.  Another loud pop.

He was flat on his back.  Eyes opened.  But his body lifeless. 

You didn’t understand...what could have happened?

You spun around to face your team.  Yoongi stood in front of the others, arms out and a gun held tightly in his hands. 

He had saved you.  He had saved you all and you once again were useless.  You knew you’d be hearing about that later. 

You now saw that the rider servant’s team were standing with dropped jaws and horrified expressions. 

You knew you’d have to take care of them...but you didn’t know if you could.  

Once you had made your way back to your team it seemed the others were discussing the same matter. 

“We have to Yoongi” Namjoon spoke sternly. 

“That's so fucked up.  It's so fucked up” he was shaking his head, his eyes tearing up.  “I won’t do it.  I won’t let you do it” 

“Give me the gun Yoongi” Namjoon hissed “I’m so sorry.  Trust me.  I don’t want to do this either” 

“No” Yoongi’s voice cracked and he shook his head, one of the tears released from the corner of his eyes and fell down his cheek “please there has to be another way” he quietly cried.

“Namjoon is right Yoongi” you muttered.  “We have no choice…” 

“Fuck this.  Fuck all of this” Yoongi sobbed, shaking his head and holding the gun out to Namjoon. 

He took the gun and turned it over in his hands a few times.  

“I might need a bit more ammo,” he winced realizing how many members on the opposite team he’d need bullets for. 

Yoongi sighed and pulled out a box of ammunition for his gun. 

Namjoon loaded the gun, closed his eyes, shuddered, and took a deep breath in.  

“Anyone who doesn’t want to see this, turn away now” He warned your team. 

Jungkook spun around instantly, followed by Taehyung, Hoseok and Jin.  Yoongi didn’t turn around, but his eyes shut and you saw him pressing his nails into the palms of his hands.  

Jimin stayed staring at the scene, maybe it was his experience for these kind of things.  Maybe it was that he wanted to support Namjoon.  But something kept him locked onto the scene before you. 

You moved to Jungkook who seemed the most shaken up, turning away from the moment as well.  Jungkook's arms shot out and he clutched onto you tightly, burying his head into your shoulder.  

He jumped with each shot that rang out.  A small whimper escaping his lips.  You wrapped your arms around him as well, trying your best to soothe him. 

Namjoon returned to the group solemnly and with a rigid stance. 

“Lets go.” he whispered. 

Once again you couldn’t bring yourself to look back on the scene behind you as you hopped on the back of the car. 

You knew what and who laid there. 

A drone whizzed past the car, all of you looked up at it with grim looks.  

Jungkook shook his head at the sight of the camera excitedly rushing to film the bodies. 

“Fuck you!” you screamed out, throwing up your middle finger to the passing camera as Yoongi had done the other day. 

You turned to look at your master who was opening the door to his driver’s seat.  He was looking right at you, a small smile grew on his face...

-----------------------------------------------------------------

 When your group arrived back to the house Namjoon instantly rushed into his room, slamming the door behind him.  

“Should I…” Jin whispered to Yoongi, who simply shrugged in return. 

“I’d give him a bit...that was...rough” Jimin spoke “I watched it all and,” he shook his head quickly “That's not what we are used to.  That’s not how we did things before. That was…” he moved his shoulders like a shiver had just run up his spine. 

The group was silent for a few moments. 

“I’ll make us some dinner” Jin broke the silence.  The rest of you nodded. 

“Goddess?” A soft voice whispered beside you.

“Yeah Jungkook?” 

He didn’t respond, instead grabbing your hand and stepping away from the group, tugging you with him. 

“What’s up?” you asked confused. 

Still silence.  He continued to pull you towards the direction of the rooms.  

The rest of the group seemed too caught up in the conversations they were having to care about your absence. But, they all definitely noticed, they always noticed anything that you did. 

Maybe it was Namjoon calling off the rule, but for some reason none of them seemed to think anything of the fact that Jungkook was now pulling you into his bedroom. 

He shut the door behind you, hanging his head.  His black hair fell down covering his face and he brought his hands together pulling on his fingers nervously.  

“I need you” he spoke quietly. 

“I’m here?” you cocked your head to the side. 

His face shot up quickly to meet yours.  Gone were the soft and nervous eyes of the boy that you had grown to know.  Gone were the shy mannerisms that always laced every movement and feature of his body. 

“I need you” he emphasized. 

His dark eyes heavy as his bit down on his lip looking you over.  

One of his tattooed arms reached out and his hand held the side of your face.  A black outline of a rose was inked into the inside of his arm, it was beautiful, he was beautiful.

“Please” he mumbled softly. 

His doe eyes were full of lust and want, scanning you over, pleading yet still somehow stern and demanding.

Any thought you’d had of him being one to give up control in the bedroom was gone. 

You leaned forward to him, your fingers aching to run your hands through his messy black hair.

Jungkook chuckled slightly noticing your neediness. 

“Yes?” He cocked an eyebrow up while his hand started to drop from your cheek and move to trace small circles over the top of your exposed chest.  You shuddered at the feeling of the light touch of his fingers against your skin. 

“You did say you wanted me” he winked.

“What’s got you feeling so bold?” You finally came up with a response for him. “You’ve been so shy, you don’t seem like yourself right now.”

Jungkook pulled his hand back from you and stepped a few steps back and shrugged, now looking embarrassed and more like the Jungkook you were used to. 

“I was just trying to...trying something out…” he started to mumble and look down to the floor. “Sorry” he whispered.

“Don’t apologize!” You quickly tried to recover the closeness that he’d taken away, stepping so close that his broad chest was almost pressed up against you. “I wasn’t saying I didn’t like it! It just surprised me, I pictured myself being the one to take control with you, that’s all” you explained

Jungkooks eyes crinkled as he laughed breathily, still looking down at his feet. 

“So you’ve been picturing this” his eyes now slowly lifted to meet your own. 

“Maybe” you felt your cheeks grow warm with slight embarrassment. Of course you’d pictured yourself with him, how could you not.  Even though bedroom Jungkook wasn’t quite how you’d expected, the side of himself he had shown you was driving you crazy with want.  You wanted to explore this bold and forward Jungkook that he seemed capable of pulling out from some forgotten corner in his mind.  

“Well sweetheart, sorry to ruin your fantasies of me, but there’s no way in hell I’d let you take control here” he growled, his face serious as he tilted his head back, biting at his lip.  He then sent you a quick flirtatious wink again, letting you in on how much he was enjoying this new persona he’d decided to try on. 

Maybe it was the war, maybe it was the idea that any of you could die tomorrow that pushed him to try new things, whatever the case, you both were glad he’d decided to. 

His lips landed on yours before you could even think about leaning in to meet them.  Both of his hands held your face as his frantic and lustful kisses were given.  He pressed himself against you fully, pushing against you and forcing you to take steps back before you fell to the bed. 

Jungkook pulled back from the kiss but stayed on top of you, holding himself up arms length away from you.  His hands pressing into the small lower bunk bed on either side of you.  

He stared down at you with his hungry and almost feral dark eyes. 

“Fuck.” He hissed, pushing himself up, he sat with his legs straddled across your hips and lifted his shirt over his head quickly.  

He was so muscular and his skin was scattered in tattoos of many different things.  You caught one that stood out to you, the words “Out of my Mind” were tattooed right under his left collarbone.  You had always wondered what that one said, only ever seeing the very top of the lettering when his shirt would slip down slightly.  

Jungkook tossed his shirt to the corner of the room and then dove back into you, grinding his hips roughly against you to relieve some of the need that was growing. 

One of his hands harshly grabbed and squeezed your tit through the fabric of your dress, his lips scattering passionate kisses all up and down your neck.

When he lifted his hand to brush a strand of hair from your face, you caught the words that you had noticed written on his knuckles earlier today.

‘OOPS’ was written in plain block letters. 

You grabbed his hand and observed them. 

“Why oops?” You were confused by his choice of that word.

Jungkook simply shrugged, a weird expression on his face. 

“Don’t even remember ever getting that one” he spoke simply like that was the most normal thing in the world. “This one either” he pointed to the first one you’d noticed under his collar bone.

“How do you not remember getting a whole tattoo?” You chuckled.

Jungkook though wasn’t joining in the amusement “I think Taehyung did this one when I was too drunk to remember” he motioned to his collarbone. “And everyone says I did this one myself” He wiggled his fingers looking at his hand. “I try not to think too hard on it.  We’ve all been through some rough shit…” he paused and seemed to drift into a thought he didn’t want to vocalize.  “I think there’s a lot of things that we’d rather forget.  Jimin says I’m lucky that I blacked a lot of things out, and he won’t tell me…” 

Your eyes widened, these men had been going through hell long before this war, long before this prison.  

“Sorry to bring the mood down” you whispered.

“It’s fine” jungkook lifted his shoulders up and down, “like I said, I don’t really remember”

‘Out of my mind’ … a part of him was.  Maybe it should scare you.  The way this moment brought out a side of him you’d never seen made you wonder what other dormant parts of Jungkook were just sitting inside of him ready to be unlocked and unleashed.

Though he said it didn’t bother him, Jungkook was terrified of what those memories might be.  He’d been sure he’d never killed anyone, he prided himself in being a behind the scenes member of their gang.  Yet, there were moments when the other members spoke, reminiscing on past crimes and encounters with other gangs, only to just stop.  They’d fall silent and try their hardest not to look to Jungkook.  So then he’d doubt himself.  He knew he’d done something...something bad, something none of them thought he could handle reliving.  Maybe it really was for the best.

You wished you could’ve been there to help them with all of the horrors they’d gone through, you wished you could take away the obvious pain that Jungkook felt over this.  

The most you could offer was the pleasure that your body could give him. While you were sure that wasn’t enough to erase all the hurt, for a moment...you could send him into bliss.  If that was all you could do, you were going to do your best.

You pulled his head back down into a deep kiss with one hand, and with the other, pulling off the straps of your dress and shoving it down, presenting your bare chest to him like an offering.  

He took your offering instantly, reaching a hand to play with your nipple, pinching it between his fingers roughly, causing you to wince and let out a small whimper.

“Ah, so I see you’ve decided to sleep with someone other than Taehyung for a change” a voice boomed out from the doorway.

You gasped and Jungkook instantly rolled off of you. 

Namjoon stood with a blank face, his arms folded over his chest as he leaned against the doorway.  

Thinking that namjoon was speaking to you, you opened your mouth to reply. 

But, Jungkook answered first. 

“We’ve been over this.  Same as Yoongi and Jimin, he’s not my boyfriend or anything” Jungkook hissed out.

You were covering your chest pulling up the fabric of your dress.

Namjoons eyes were locked on you, and you could feel the fiery lust that your spell caused growing stronger the more he lingered in your presence. 

“No need to cover up on my account Goddess” he chuckled. “Unless you really don’t like me that much” 

“I-I” you started to stutter.

But Namjoon cut you off, still looking at you yet talking to Jungkook.

“Yeah okay.” He scoffed “You may not call him your boyfriend, but every time I’ve tried to…” he trailed off “you always say he’s the reason you won’t…” Namjoon’s features started to crumple up in an angry expression as he recounted his previous encounters with Jungkook regarding this.

Jungkook groaned and rolled his eyes, pushing himself up and walking over to Namjoon.

“You’ve had a rough day, you’re lashing out.” Jungkook spoke annoyed. 

Jungkook had always turned Namjoon down, and he used Taehyung as an excuse.  Though he and Taehyung were in no way exclusive, in fact they frequently had other partners besides each other on the outside and neither of them could care less.  Yet the reason he denied Namjoon...it was something personal.  It was the way Namjoon looked at him like they’d already done it before.  It was like a memory lingered in Namjoon’s mind, one that Jungkook couldn’t quite grasp.

It frustrated him, and made him resent Namjoon for not telling him.  At least Taehyung pretended that nothing had ever happened, brushing things off with a “I have no idea what you’re talking about” if Jungkook ever asked about the broken pieces of his mind that he couldn’t seem to find. 

Namjoon made him mad.  So mad...yet he couldn’t deny the pull that had always remained.  Nothing like the pull he felt towards you, but if anything else in the world could be compared to the feelings he’d always harbored and tried to bury about Namjoon, your spell would be it.

The bold and confident Jungkook had not left the room, that was very apparent as he reached his hand out and brushed a thumb over Namjoon’s cheek.  

“What? You wanna fuck us hyung? Is that it?” Jungkook teased. 

Namjoon smacked his hand away. His eyes flicking back and forth between you and Jungkook. 

“I know you’ve always wanted to fuck me.  And we obviously all wanna fuck her, because fuck-“ Jungkook hissed out spinning and motioning to you “just fucking look at her” he almost moaned out.

This all completely surprised you, you’d thought it was just Jimin and Yoongi that had fooled around, but now it seems that most of them had some relationships with each other like that...

Namjoon bit his lip slightly and pulled himself from the wall, his eyes trailed up and down Jungkook’s bare chest.  He lifted his hand and brushed it against the inked words under his collarbone and sighed as if something about those words really affected him as well. 

Reminding you of what Jungkook had mentioned just moments ago. 

Something had happened to him, something happened and Namjoon knew…

“Jungkook...I” Namjoon stuttered.

“Fuck” Jungkook hissed “all the times you’ve begged to fuck me? And now I’m finally saying okay and you hesitate?” Jungkook seemed genuinely angry. 

This moment seemed to be getting far too personal, you felt slightly uncomfortable and started to consider leaving. 

“I’m saying I don’t care, I don’t care that you won’t tell me what happened to me to make me not remember.  Cuz who the fuck wants to remember the shit that happened to us” Jungkook cried out, tears starting to form in his eyes.

You now realized what was going on here, Namjoon needed to forget today, what he’d done today would haunt him forever…

You couldn’t make him forget forever, but if being with Jungkook and you might help him…

“Please fuck us Namjoon” you said cutely. Trying to change the subject for their sake and bring the two boys attention back to you.

You remembered Namjoon saying how he wouldn’t be able to resist if you asked, it was a hopeful choice of words.  And it worked.

“Fuck” he gasped “yeah...yes” his eyes widened and he instantly stepped into the room closing the door behind him. 

Jungkook watched carefully as Namjoon pulled his shirt over his head.  

He had far less hidden tattoos than Jungkook, just two stars, one on each side of his lower abs.

Namjoons gaze moved between you and Jungkook, wondering where he should start.

Jungkook, who seemed to really be falling into this dominant position of control well, made the decision for him, pulling Namjoon close to his chest and planting a kiss on his plump lips.  He then took Namjoons lower lip between his teeth, sucking it into his mouth and biting down, dragging his lip. 

Namjoon hissed out at the painful feeling, his eyes squeezing shut. 

Jungkook released his lip and chuckled. 

“Ah baby” he teased with a wink “let’s not leave our goddess out hm?” 

This couldn’t have been the first time Jungkook had been this way...it couldn’t have been. He’s far too good at it, far too talented at taking control.  It was so sexy timid, shy Jungkook taking control of you and Namjoon at the same time.

Namjoon nodded shyly, looking over to you, and then his eyes landing on Jungkook for direction.

“You can touch her hyung.  But you need to get yourself undressed first hm?” He grinned widely checking out the older man while brushing a finger over his lower lip.

Namjoon ran a hand through his light brown hair nervously.  He couldn’t believe he was really doing this.  Here with you...here with Jungkook.  It was like a dream come true in the middle of the worst nightmare he’d ever had.  

A part of him wanted to stop, save this moment for a day where he wasn’t so fucked up in the head.

But he decided to continue, because he couldn’t promise himself that day would ever come.

Namjoon dropped his pants and boxers to the ground, letting his long, fat cock free from the restrictive jeans.  He was so hard that it almost hurt, he felt guilty for being so turned on after the day he’d had.  He shouldn’t be rewarded for what he’d done...no...he needed punishment.  And he knew just how to get it. 

“Maybe just y/n and I can be alone together? It feels weird with you here…” Namjoon turned to Jungkook next to him who still stood only half naked and now jaw dropped.

“Oh is that so?” Jungkook rolled his tongue against the inside of his cheek, getting incredibly ticked off by the older man’s words. “After all the times you begged” he walked over and grabbed a fistful of Namjoon’s hair, yanking his head back.

“Maybe I just don’t want you anymore” Namjoon spoke with a smirk, egging him on further, pushing him exactly how he wanted him.  

“Namjoon.  On your fucking knees you liar” Jungkook growled. “Y/n.  On the edge of the bed. Spread that pretty pussy for us and Namjoon is going to eat you out until you cum.  And if he does good maybe he can touch me too” he ordered.

You complied instantly, moving your dress up and presenting yourself to the two men in front of you.

Namjoon let out a needy whine at the sight, licking his lips excitedly.

Jungkook sucked in a sharp breath and spoke a quick ‘fuck’ under his breath.

“Now Namjoon.” He commanded his hyung. 

Namjoon nodded slowly, his wide eyes locked on to your pussy.  He inched forward and brought his face to your core.  You felt his warm breath tickle your outer folds and you shivered slightly.

He took one hand and spread you further open to give himself better access. His other hand squeezing your thigh gently.

You looked down and noticed that his eyes were meeting yours for a moment, as if asking for permission to begin.  

You nodded and gave him a sweet reassuring smile.  He didn’t hesitate now, diving right in to the wetness in front of him.

His tongue flicked over your clit at lightning speed.  You gasped out and bucked your hips up into his mouth in response.  He used the hand on your thigh to steady you as he continued his pace.

You looked over to see Jungkook standing heavy lidded, pupils dilated and grinding his teeth together as he tried to hold himself back from jumping in and taking Namjoon’s place.  His erection was throbbing in his pants, aching to get out.  Aching to feel you wrapped around him in any way that he could get you...your mouth, your hand...your perfect pussy. 

You felt your orgasm building under Namjoon’s quickening tongue.  You cried out loudly as you were right on the edge. 

The sight was so beautiful Jungkook almost forgot his plan for this moment.

“Wait stop!” He quickly got out.

Namjoon pulled back instantly, and you pouted at the denial of your orgasm. 

“I want Goddess to beg me to cum.  Come on temptress.  You tease us all day long, did you really think I’d forget what a naughty girl you are? Did you really think I’d forget how you’ve been with four of my friends before me? Hm?”

He got on the bed next to you, crouching down and bringing one hand to wrap around you throat.  It was different than when Yoongi had done this, Jungkook’s hand was placed there with control, and reason.  Yet you couldn’t help but replay the beautiful moment with your master...missing it.

Jungkook was now breathing a soft breath of air out against your ear.  Then suddenly nipping harshly at your lobe. 

“Ah!” You squeaked out.

“Babygirl.  Did you really not think I was worth coming to first? I’m honestly a little jealous.  Namjoon too, he’s just being too nice to say anything.  You know that’s why he lashed out at you earlier right?” 

Was it? You thought he hated you for what you were...but...could he have just felt neglected?

“Namjoon?” You asked softly.

Namjoon sheepishly looked down.

“I’m really sorry about that Goddess...I was harsh, and I felt left out.  I felt like you didn’t want me, that you wanted them all more than me.  I’m sorry”

You rolled your eyes.  Jungkook sat up so that you could get up and plant a soft kiss on Namjoon’s forehead.

“I forgive you” you smiled while kissing him on one cheek, “and I want you very much.  You almost made me cum so good just now.  I can’t wait for you to finish what we started here” you praised him.  

His face lit up, and he looked over to Jungkook who was lounging on the bed on his side in a relaxed position with one hand propping up his head.  He gave the two of you a look of approval.

“Well. Now that that’s sorted.  Beg.” His voice dropped a few octaves on his last word, he resumed his position of hovering over you, his face mere inches from yours, noses almost brushing as his eyes bore straight into yours. 

The look in his eyes was so wild and animalistic that you should’ve felt afraid, but instead you felt yourself growing even wetter.

“Please” you whined. 

His hand shot to your throat.  Not pressing down or restricting at all, yet still firm, a reminder that he could if he wanted to.

“Beg. Better. Beg like you mean it,” He hissed out through clenched teeth.  Namjoon was on his knees a few feet back from the bed, sitting back on his feet, watching you and Jungkook with hungry eyes. 

“Jungkook please let me cum” you desperately pleaded.  Jungkook had one leg on either side of you straddling you and pressing his still clothed erection into your naked core, rubbing against you and soaking the front of his pants with your wetness. 

He glared down at you, yet you could see the hints of lust that covered his expression. 

“That’s a pathetic excuse for begging” he grumbled under his breath, “But your face tells me how desperate you are” he smirked, tightening his long fingers for a moment around your throat. You jerked your hips up into him as he did this, so turned on by the feeling. 

Jungkook scoffed and shook his head, pulling himself away from you completely and walking to stand over Namjoon. 

“Your turn” a sinful smile grew on Jungkook’s face as he stared down at the older man.  Namjoon’s eyes widened.  “Show Godess what I mean when I say beg” he growled tilting his head up and biting his lip as he ran fingers through his jet black hair, his bicep flexing as he did.  

“Jungkook, Please let me eat Goddess’s pussy until she cums.  I want to feel her cum on my tongue and drink up every last drop” Namjoon begged, not breaking eye contact with Jungkook as he did. 

“And what makes you think you deserve to” Jungkook bent over slightly and grabbed a handful of Namjoon’s hair, jerking his head back and getting mere inches from his face, his stern gaze piercing into Namjoon’s eyes. 

“I don’t.  God. I don’t deserve it sir.  But she does, please let me make her cum.  I’d do anything.  I’d do anything for you Jungkook, I’d do anything for her” Namjoon’s voice cracked as he answered, wincing at the pain of having his hair pulled so roughly. 

“Good boy” Jungkook softened his grip and brought his lips to meet Namjoon’s.  You felt a loud gasp leave your lips. 

The sight was just so erotic.  Jungkook’s kisses seemed controlled and well placed, while Namjoon’s were desperate and frenzied, he brought his hands around the back of Jungkook’s head pulling him deeper into the kiss.  Namjoon seemed like a man starved, a man who’d waited a lifetime for this kiss. It was so different than the first kiss you’d seen from them, the emotion behind this was filling the whole room with it’s aura. 

Jungkook pulled back from the kiss and whispered something in Namjoon’s ear.  You couldn’t make out what it was, but whatever the words were, it caused Namjoon to shut his eyes tightly and flash a smile of relief and pure joy.  

“Okay.  Make our Goddess cum now” Jungkook pet the top of Namjoon’s head, motioning for him to return to his position between your legs. 

 Namjoon picked back up where he left off, flicking his tongue over your sensitive and throbbing clit.  Your fingers made their way to intertwining themselves in his hair, holding him close as you moaned out his name needily.  Jungkook moved next to you on the bed, lying on his side and bringing a hand to pinch one of your nipples harshly.  You squealed at the pain, but you didn’t want him to stop.  He started to suck on your neck, leaving purple marks on your skin. 

“I’m going to cum soon” You gasped out.  You felt Jungkook quiver at your words, and he pinched down even harder on your nipple. 

Namjoon responded with a loud moan, and an even quicker pace against you. 

“Namjoon, Fuck” you pulled on the strands of hair that you held in your hands.  

Your orgasm was right there, so close…

“Cum for us baby girl” Jungkook whispered against the skin of your neck. 

And that was all it took for you to come undone.  You screamed out in pleasure as the waves of your orgasm took over your body, Namjoon carrying you through it with his tongue and lapping up every drop that you gave him as he said he would. 

Your chest rose and fell dramatically as you tried to get a handle on yourself after that incredible high. 

Jungkook released your nipple and planted a soft kiss on your neck where he’d just left the last mark. 

Namjoon massaged your inner thighs gently as you released your grip on him and  he pulled his head back.

Jungkook now stood, dropping his pants and boxers to the floor, his long cock springing free from it’s cage.  

You licked your lips hungrily as he walked back over to the bed, he pulled some lube out from a drawer in the nightstand next to the bed then sat down without a word. 

“Where do you want me sir?” Namjoon now stood in front of him. 

“Where do you think I fucking want you.” Jungkook spoke lowly. 

Namjoon dropped once again to his knees, this time in positioning himself between Jungkook’s legs instead of yours. 

“Suck.” Jungkook growled out his order, roughly gripping Namjoon by his hair and jerking his head forward to his cock.  

Namjoon moaned out lewdly as he moved his hand to grip the base of Jungkook’s throbbing length. 

He was returned with a loud slap to the side of his face.  

“I didn’t say to do that.  I said suck.  Put your fucking hands away” He hissed. 

Namjoon quickly pulled his hand back and nodded, lowering his head to take the tip of Jungkook’s cock in his mouth, then taking the length fully. 

“Wow” you whispered. Namjoon continued to suck Jungkook’s cock like it was his last meal, slurping loudly and humming around him. 

Jungkook was throwing his head back, eyes rolling into the back of his head.  

“Fuck fuck, baby stop” he groaned, using his grip he’d had on Namjoons hair to tear his head away from his cock. 

“Goddess.” Jungkook motioned for you to come over to him, “Sit on my lap and let me fuck that tight ass while Namjoon fucks your pussy” a smirk growing on his face as he saw your jaw drop. 

You hesitantly made your way over to Jungkook, he smacked your ass hard as you stood with your back facing him getting ready to sit on his lap.  Jungkook put a bit of the lube on the tip of his cock and gently rubbed it all over. 

“Now goddess” he ordered, now using both hands to spread your ass cheeks apart as you started to sit down on him.  He steadied himself on the edge of the bed, using his grip on you to keep you from losing balance. 

You felt the tip of his cock start to press into your hole. 

“Relax baby” he spoke calmly, gripping your hips and bringing you down further around him. 

“Fuck that feels so good, so fucking tight” He hissed out, his grip tightening as he pushed into you. 

Once you’d taken him fully he gave you a moment to adjust before motioning for Namjoon to come closer. 

Namjoon, bent slightly to reach where you and Jungkook now sat on the bed together, and Jungkook leaned back a bit as Namjoon rested his body against you, positioning his cock right at your entrance, waiting for a moment to make sure you were okay with this. 

“Fuck me Namjoon, please” you moaned out, feeling so fucked out already from the feeling of Jungkook in your ass, but wanting more.  You needed to feel Namjoon fill up your pussy. 

Namjoon nodded, biting down hard on his lower lip as he pressed himself into you, stretching you out and filling you up.  The feeling was pure bliss, both of them inside of you, Jungkook’s back pressing against your back, and Namjoons chest now pressed against your chest. 

Jungkook leaned forward and gave Namjoon a soft kiss on the lips before starting to slowly move inside of you. 

You gasped out sharply at the feeling.  Namjoon took that as his cue to start moving as well, keeping his thrusts in sync with Jungkook, loving the feeling of your pussy, and the way he could feel Jungkook’s cock through the wall of your pussy.  So tight, so perfect…

You wrapped your arms around Namjoon’s neck, feeling yourself start to tear up from the overabundance of pleasure coursing through your body. 

“I-I-I” you tried to tell them you were about to cum but you couldn’t get the words out. 

Jungkook chuckled and brought his lips to your neck again, nipping at the skin and digging his nails into your sides where he gripped you, holding you steady as he sped up his pace. 

You started to grow limp from all of the pleasure rushing over you, Namjoon and Jungkook both held you steady now, curses and moans falling from both of their lips.  

Your orgasm flooded over you, causing you to shake and writhe between the two men.  

“Fuck.” You heard Namjoon hiss out, “So. Tight.  So…” His eyes clenched shut and his pace grew unsteady.  

“Cum with me baby” Jungkook spoke out in a gravely low rumble.  At that Namjoon stilled and you felt his warm ropes of cum start to fill you up.  

Jungkook wasn’t too far off, grunting heavily as he sped up and fucked into you hard, his hips slapping against your ass cheeks, then growling out a loud yell of your name as he emptied himself inside of you.  

“Fuckkk” He moaned out, pulling out of you and laying flat on his back.  

Namjoon still held you as you sat on Jungkook’s lap, cum now spilling out of you and onto Jungkook and the bed.  

“Lets get cleaned up hon” he whispered gently, kissing you on the top of your head.  “You were so good for us baby” he praised you. 

Namjoon then pulled out of you, picking you up in his arms bridal style and carrying you out of the room to the shower, Jungkook following close behind, not caring who saw the three of you in your post sex state. 

---------------------------------

After you’d gotten cleaned up and sufficiently recovered from your session with the two of them, Jungkook left, telling the two of you he was tired and going to bed.

“I’d love it if the two of you joined me in there in a moment” he winked, lingering at the door as you and Namjoon were re dressing. 

“I thought we were all sleeping in the living room” Namjoon furrowed his brow.  “You might be in charge in the bedroom.  But I’m your leader” he reminded him. 

Jungkook scoffed, “I’m sleeping in my own bed tonight.  If you want to let me sleep alone, that's on you” he shrugged, winking again and heading out of the room. 

“That boy, what am I gonna do with him” Namjoon chuckled and shook his head “Did you have fun Goddess” he smiled cheekily at you. 

“Yes.  Why do I feel that wasn’t the first time you’d done something like that with Jungkook though” You teased, not realizing your mistake until Namjoon froze and his expression grew dark. 

“Sorry, I wasn’t trying to..” 

Namjoon shook his head “No it's fine.” he sighed, “There's just.  Things about Jungkook, I don’t know if I should say” 

“He talked a bit about not having all of his memories…” You spoke quietly. 

“Yeah.” Namjoon nervously ran a hand through his hair, “Yeah.” he repeated. 

“You don’t half to talk about it if you don’t want” you wrapped your arms around him, burying your head in his chest.  “It’s gotta be tough”

“I love him.  I’ve loved that insane man for so many years” He whispered. 

“You pulled back and stared up at Namjoon who’s eyes were not filling with tears. 

“You should probably know his story.” He sighed “You might find out eventually, he seems so close to having another lucid moment again, it’s bound to come out, you should be prepared.” Namjoon then took you to his room, the two of you walked past the younger men’s room to see Jungkook fast asleep in his bed. 

You sat down on one of the lower bunks, Namjoon sitting next to you silently for a bit, deciding where to start. 

“Jungkook was never our computer guy.  He was our top muscle, our best killer.  Everyone called him the Phantom of Death.  He had a boyfriend.  Another member of our gang named Baekhyun. There used to be 8 of us.  I loved Jungkook even then, and we started to sneak around and fuck behind Baekhyun’s back. Jungkook was in love with me too, it was obvious. But he just couldn’t bring himself to break up with his boyfriend, he loved him more.” Namjoons eyes stared down at the floor. 

“One day Baekhyun walked in on us together.  He couldn’t handle it.  It drove him mad.  The next week a hit had been ordered on Jungkook.  Five men jumped him on his way home that day, and Jungkook killed them all.  It wasn’t too unlike him to handle himself that way.  But, he just knew that it was Baekhyun who did it.  He went back to the home he shared with Baekhyun, who was surprised to see him still alive.” Namjoon clenched his eyes shut as a tear fell down his cheek.  “When we found Baekhyun the next day his face seemed like it’d been punched to shit...” he shuddered “So hard that it killed him.  And he couldn’t handle it.  He really did love him, it didn’t just break his heart what he’d done, it broke his soul” 

You sat with your mouth gaping open, shocked to hear that Jungkook was capable of that.  Scared Jungkook who seemed so nervous at every battle. 

“He disappeared for about a week.  When he came back he was wearing the same clothes, covered in blood, no one really knows entirely what happened. But he had the tattoo on his knuckles, the same hand that killed his lover.” Namjoon’s fist clenched tightly “And he’d completely forgotten about everything.  He didn’t remember anything he’d done, he thought he was our tech guy and that he’d never killed a soul, it was some strange story that his brain made up for him so he could cope with what he’d done.  He forgot he’d ever been with me.”  You put a hand over Namjoon’s hand and held it tightly, nodding as you listened to his story, your heart breaking for him. 

“He started sleeping with Taehyung.  I was jealous but there was nothing I could do, none of us wanted to tell him anything that could remind him of what had happened.  He seemed happier that way.  Until one night, he must’ve had a night terror, all the memories of what happened.  He was laying next to Taehyung in bed and almost killed him before realizing what he was doing.  When he came to he passed out for two days.  That's when Taehyung gave him that tattoo, more as a reminder for us that our Jungkook could snap at any moment.” 

“I’m so sorry” You whispered, not quite knowing what to say. 

“What's happened has happened I suppose...” He shrugged “Thanks for listening.  I needed to talk with someone about it.  All the emotions from what I did today.  I was scared that maybe I’d snap too” he admitted “But being with you, and getting to be with him again.  It really helped” Namjoon pulled you close to him.  “Let’s go join our Jungkookie in bed okay?” 

You nodded with a small smile, following Namjoon into the room and crawling next to Jungkook who instantly smiled a sleepy smile.  

You had a lot to think about after today, you didn’t know these men at all.  They were dangerous, maybe that was good for this twisted game you were all playing.  All you knew for sure about them, is that no matter what they'd done...you were falling in love. 

————

You woke up that morning sandwiched in between Jungkook and shirtless bodies.  You nuzzled your nose into Jungkook’s chest and pressed your backside into Namjoon’s front, who in response wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you in even tighter.

You felt so safe and warm.  The heavenly memories of the night before were replaying on a loop in your mind.

The sound of the door opening directed all of your attention to the noise.

“Wake the fuck up!” Hoseok screamed out, his eyes wide, his hands frantically motioning for the three of you to get up.

“What’s going on?” Jungkook mumbled, sitting up and trying to rub the sleep from his eyes with the back of his hand.

“Fuck fuck fuck, I knew we should’ve all slept together.  How the fuck did this happen?” You heard Jin’s panicked voice outside of the door.

At that you shot up rushing into the hallway, Jin met your gaze, tears were filling his eyes.

“Wha-“ You started quietly as you walked into the living room, your stomach was overcome with a tingling fear.  You didn’t like the anxiety ridden aura in the house right now.  

Taehyung sat on the couch with his head in his hands.

“Jimin is gone.  Someone took him while we slept.” he whispered pointing to the spot on the floor where Jimin and Yoongi had been sleeping.

Your heart felt like it stopped instantly.  Your blood grew cold and the needles of fear pricked into your spine. *no...not Jimin*

“M-master?” You whimpered out to the man laying on his side on the floor, blank faced and seemingly in a state of shock.

“He’s been like this since we found out…” Jin shook his head.

“Well let’s fucking go get him.” You stood tall and spoke with confidence. “I actually think I know where to look first” you added.

Though, you hoped that you were wrong.  If he was where you thought he was, the chances of getting him back were low…