#well without Those criminal undertones

[black-and-yellow]

Lost

(minus grain)

[bluegekk0]

Damn, Lurien's design is really good! Can you tell us something random about him?

Thank you!

Hmm. Might as well take this chance to talk about his personality a bit. His most prominent trait is that he's extremely dedicated to the City of Tears. Like, to the point of committing questionable actions in order to protect it, which started to be noticeable after he became its head post-infection.

There is a parallel to be made between him and Vyrm for this reason, but where Vyrm chooses to solve things peacefully and was forced to commit terrible acts out of desperation, Lurien is far more ruthless. As the head of the city, he wants to make sure the citizens are safe above all. The infection and the chaos that came after it became an opportunity for many bandits to exploit the city's weakness. By the time Lurien gained power to do anything about it, some of the city districts became notorious for criminal activity, and many of the thugs have their hideouts all across the city and outsids its borders. Thieves, murderers and other criminals fly right under the radar of his weakened guard, and this forces him to look for less than lawful methods to cull the bandit population.

This is best shown by his deal with Grimm; he's willing to work with another murderer to protect the city. Grimm periodically visits it in search of blood, inevitably leaving dead bodies behind. With Lurien's help, he gets access to a list of names of criminals he can hunt without consequences. He works more efficiently and faster than the city guard, which means Lurien can get rid of targets without attracting too much attention of the rest of the criminal underground. It's definitely a questionable method, and perhaps a lot of those criminals deserved a fair trial, but Lurien doesn't seem bothered about it. Anything to protect his beloved city.

I'm still brainstorming his backstory, but I want him to be very closely connected to the city from a young age, somehow. I mean, he basically married it when becoming the Watcher, so it's very clear that it means a lot to him. And I thought it would be interesting if he agreed to become the Dreamer not just because of his respect for FPK, but out of love for the city.

I talked before about his relationship with Vyrm, but I think this is a nice opportunity to mention if again. He definitely had a crush on him at some point, but it's possible that he was more attracted to Vyrm's love for his kingdom and his subjects rather than Vyrm himself. He definitely saw the king's beauty and he found him awe-inspiring, but whether or not it had a romantic undertone is still something he can't decide on.

His conflicted feelings are definitely rooted in his kind's customs. As I mentioned in the design reveal post, the males of his species clip their wings as a wedding ritual. This is deeply rooted in its culture, which unfortunately means that same-sex couples and relationships with other species are frowned upon among his kind, as they break tradition. Lurien definitely adapted Hallownest's more tolerant mindset, but deep down he felt ashamed of his feelings, which contributed to him never making them known to Vyrm or anyone else.

This post is already quite long, but if anyone is interested, I would love to answer more questions, especially some more specific ones! They help a lot with developing him as a character.

[luciaiscool7]

Cleverman

Victoria Herche's work, “Queering the Dreaming: Representations of the ‘Other’ in the Indigenous Australian Speculative Television Series Cleverman,” speaks to how Cleverman breaks down Western Eurocentric conceptions of a superhero, recontextualizing the genre for an indigenous audience- Griffin, the serie's showrunner was inspired by his son's excitement over Teenage Ninja Turtles: "I suddenly wished we had something cultural—something Aboriginal—that he could cling to with as much excitement as he did with this” (Herche, 33). As we spoke about in class, this breaking of superhero tropes plays out in Koen's origin story as someone not "deserving" of being the Cleverman by the (apparently) spotless morally pure standard of classic superheros. As pieces of media, superheros are inextrically linked with political undertones, even government propaganda, for example, in the case of Batman in the 80s as a representation of a masked vigilant justifying fear of racialized "criminals" in urban spaces and the War on Drugs. I think given this history, by making Koen morally dubious right off the bat, Cleverman reverses the tropes of superheroes who are portrayed as unquestionably good agents (who are actually doing weird bad stuff) and 1) gives Koen the ability to be a complex character, 2) doesn't allow audiences to fall into the trap of uplifting and valorizing a superhero without critical thought, and 3) challenges the idea of "deservingness" which historically (as well as currently) is not often afforded to people of color. I think Cleverman is very intentional about depicting ideas of "deservingness" as goodness versus "criminality" as badness. For example, the scene where the Hairy girl, Jyra, is killed while her brother, Djukara, tries to resist the oppressive police force. This scene and Djukara's subsequent violent incarceration shows the systemic connection, justified by dehumanization, between believing a group of people do not deserve living security, liberation, self determination, etc and criminalization of their movements towards those things.

@theuncannyprofessoro

[kat-and-their-cats]

How Is This Place Worse Than Australia?

Prologue: Why Is The Person Who Rudely Awoke Me, Disappointed With Me?

AO3

Chapters: 0, 1

‘Shit, why the fuck do people always call while I’m trying to sleep,’ I mentally curse as I rollover to where my phone is ringing with a familiar number that I can’t quite place flashing across the screen. “Hello, this is Eclipse, who is calling me at this ungodly hour of the morning on my one day off for the year,” I sass almost falling out of the bed as I sit up preparing to grab a notepad for if it is important.

“It’s Eraserhead, I’m calling because Nedzu, is looking for an international heroics teacher and I heard that you were involved with the Overhaul case, I understand if you want nothing to do with him but All Might is teaching this year and I fear that he is not properly qualified and might need someone to keep an eye on him.” I hear Aizawa’s dry and tired voice say through the slight crackle of the phone.

“You want me to take on another class of hero students as well as my own while I’m on several cases, I would have thought that you of all people would have been trying to talk Nedzu out of trying to get me to teach after the amount of times that you call me a problem child, after taking another case when I already have 5. Plus, you want me to keep tabs on All Might without wanting to punch his lights out, I thought you knew me better.” I say sass and sarcasm dripping from my words as I roll my eyes and get out of bed deciding that I might as well begin my exercise routine early today.

“I know it is hypocritical of me to ask you to do more work after the amount of times that I have asked you to do the exact opposite, but the bottom line is that you owe me for that time that I saved your life and now I am cashing in that debt. I need your help; the number of criminals being caught on the streets is going down and there are whispers of an attack on UA happening. I don’t want to see any of these kids hurt.” He sounds very serious and sincere.

“Ok, you’ve got a deal, but you owe me for this, I’m going to have to get somebody else to teach some of my classes and take my patrols. Let Nedzu know that I’m coming and to have some accommodation for me, I’ll be there roughly two weeks before the beginning of the school year.” I say sighing at the end while I grab sports pants and a shirt out of the pile of washed clothes that I hadn’t had the time to put away yet.

“Do you want me to tell Nighteye as well? He might want to see you in person if he knows that you're going to be teaching his star intern,” he says, I could almost feel the sarcasm radiating off of him from across an ocean.

“You might as well let him know since you were the one to suggest it.” chuckling as he realises his mistake.

“No, that is on you, problem child, your case, your job to inform him that you're going to be in Japan to teach at UA.” he says seriously with a heavy undertone of exhaustion, probably due to the likelihood that he had just finished a patrol.

“Ok, get some sleep if you can Eraser, it is 4am here so it's 2:30am where you are.” I say a slightly parental tone slipping into my voice coming from many years of teaching.

“I will Jonni, don’t you worry about me, I have Present Mic for that.” he says, an undertone of humour slipping into his voice as he talked.

“So, you two finally stopped pining after each other then, Midnight owes me some money then.” I say chuckling at the memory of my last trip to Japan ending with me and Midnight making a bet on those two before I ‘escaped their custody’ and left the country back to Australia at the end of the case.

“See you in a week, problem child.” I heard Eraser’s unimpressed voice come out of the phone one last time, before hearing the beep that signalled him hanging up on me. ‘Rude’ I thought as I finished getting dressed and left the room, in hunt of Delphi before heading to the training rooms.

[pokeheros-drama]

"how DO you write a mind control scenario the right way?" ~hope you're ready for my essay :')~

Not an RPer here, but as a writer I can give some info from a story writing standpoint. The best and easiest way to write a mind control scenario is to completely remove any sexual undertones. Most good examples of mind control you see will actually involve the opposite- we can kind of use the Moon scenario as an example. If they still wanted to include mind control, the best way to go about it would have been to make Moon say things they wouldn't normally say to the person the controller is trying to hurt, something like "I never loved you!" as a more dramatic example. It's also easier to make controlled characters very angry, sad, or emotionless, but most extreme ranges of emotion still work. (For clarification, the emotionless dynamic is also almost exclusively used in servant dynamics- still nonsexual obviously.)

If we look at the generic "I don't like you so I'm controlling the person you love" plot, there are many ways to play it out without making it sexual. One that comes to mind would be the controller making the controlled character the angry leader of an army to fight against the other character. The main thing you need to make a mind-control story work is the ability to write and convey conflicting emotions and motives. A lot of mind control stories are actually written as simply control/gaslight stories (think Rapunzel) to prevent gross and weird things from happening and to keep all of the characters still capable of consensual actions, as well as facing the consequences of them. This is also why mind control is seen as an "easy out" way of writing since it can easily remove the complexity from a character and their actions. (Imagine if Rapunzel was an emotionless controlled character. It would create an entirely different icky feeling to the story and we as the audience wouldn't be able to understand her actions as well as we normally can.)

Now, you *can* write mind control scenarios with sexual undertones. These, however, can be much more difficult to write and should never ever EVER include minors. These scenarios should always be written by adults, for adults, with adult characters. These typically fall into the adult true crime fantasy/romance genres, and thus the controller is usually a criminal (often of the serial killer type). I don't really feel like blabbering on about the best way to write those kinds of scenarios here because I doubt any of you would want to read that lmao. Even if somebody wrote a masterpiece with this kind of dynamic in it, it still shouldn't be on PH.

.

[vichern4ndez]

©𝐁𝐄𝟒𝐓𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍. CHARACTER SHEET.

general.

full name. victor ángel hernández. nickname(s).  vic , ángel / angel. alias(es). none. pronouns. he / him. ethnicity. hispanic ( mexican ). age. mid - twenties. zodiac. gemini. spoken language(s). being exposed to and taught english and spanish from birth , he is natively bilingual in both. he often uses them interchangeably.

physical.

hair. dark brown , almost black. reaches shoulders in length. cut and styled into a shaggy mullet. eyes. dark brown. skin tone. a lighter medium complexion when without sun. neutral undertones. he tans into a warm medium easily and rarely burns. body type.  mesomorph. these types are naturally more athletic , have moderate body fat , and gain muscle mass quickly. for lack of a better term , vic is built like a linebacker. he has broad shoulders and a broad chest , long and muscular arms and legs , and is overall a medium body build. while his middle is pretty toned , it's the softest part of him. voice description.  possibly not as deep as one might expect because of his stature at his most natural talking state , and his register drops by a few semitones when speaking spanish. it deepens when he's tired / agitated / angry / etc. he often drops the " g " from the ends of certain words and uses many contractions and slang. example.

dominant hand.  right. posture.  typically poor. he tends to slightly slouch while both standing and sitting. but it is something he attempts to keep in mind and correct when he realizes it. scar(s). many random ones scattered across his body. ones from his childhood incidents have for the most part faded , while those from his teenage years to adulthood remain noticeable. several of his knuckles are scarred over , there is a slash through his right eyebrow where hair can no longer grow back , and a slanted one over the bridge of his nose that managed to heal surprisingly well after breaking it the second time. birthmark(s).  none. tattoos. left cheek beneath his eye , both arms starting from shoulders , both hands , all fingers , both shins and calves.

notable features.  both his stature and build. standing at six foot two inches and weighing two hundred pounds , he isn't always the tallest person in a room ( he usually is ) - but he is often the sturdiest. it's something that often gave him an ego boost growing up , because he comes from a line of men that are usually five foot eight and under. his build was passed down to him from his grandfather on his mother's side.

childhood.

place of birth. san diego , california. hometown. san diego , california. siblings. katherine " katie " hernández ( younger sister / alive. ) parents. elizabeth " betty " ( née torres ) hernández ( mother / alive ) , luis hernández ( father / estranged / alive. )

adulthood.

occupation.  vocalist for betty beatdown , mechanic. current residence. san diego , california. financial status.  verse dependent. lower middle class until his band begin to make traction in his late mid - twenties. drivers license. obtained at sixteen. criminal record. disorderly conduct , simple assault , aggravated assault , assaulting a police officer , resisting arrest. several arrests were under his belt with short stints in county jail , until twenty two when he served eighteen months in state prison.

sex and romance.

sexual orientation.  bisexual. preferred emotional role. the fixer and the protector. it's all he's ever known how to do for those he cares about. preferred sexual role. switch. he considers himself a dominant partner and prefers it while with someone he doesn't completely trust. though he very much enjoys letting go of everything and letting someone else take charge so he doesn't have to when he feels like he can. turn offs.  dishonesty , controlling , blatant disrespect , arrogance , lack of communication when it really matters , selfishness. turn ons. loyalty , confidence , protective , sense of humor. love language. acts of service and words of affirmation. relationship tendencies. depending on the person and their relationship prior , he can either immediately declare his love - or let it slowly burn while being too stubborn to admit to his feelings. there is no in between. he's a romantic with a big heart but he's also a bit insecure. he's prone to jealousy and due to baggage , he often finds it difficult to think himself worthy of happiness with another person. but his loyalty is unmatched when he's in a relationship.

miscellaneous.

theme song. moshpit - attila. hobbies. making music and going to shows , working out , gaming , cars. left or right brained. right brained. self confidence level. way too high , i am not even going to lie to you guys.

[thecrownprincessbride]

Thoughts and experiences when moving to Norway

ON HOW TO GET A PHONE NUMBER

Short version:

You don’t. Good luck, my friend.

Long version:

May it be helpful for everyone out there who struggles with the same problem.

When you move to a different country, one of the things you’ll have to do at one point is get a local number. Since I’m from a European country, I can use my number easily in the whole of Europe. However, if you really plan on staying in Norway, you probably want a Norwegian number to be able to use all the services.

I, for example, needed a Norwegian number for work purposes, with my employer covering my subscription. Which means I cannot just get a prepaid phone card*, like I have been using all my life. I need a contract.

Turns out, this is not quite as easy as it looks.

Put yourself in my shoes. Imagine you’ve had your home country number for ages, had a data plan with a provider, and in your experience, you just go to the supermarket, buy a SIM card, get a data plan. Done.

Well, not in Norway.

As a first step, you gather information. You ask your friend, and they recommend a provider. You go to their website, only to find out that you already need a Norwegian phone number (for “contact purposes”) to order a new Norwegian number. Haha, very funny. Don’t they know that the point is that you have no number? –

Apparently not.

Okay, so you ask your friend if you could use their number for this purpose. Problem solved, just with a bit of a work-around.

Right. Then, you type in your D-number (a sort if identification number for non-Norwegians, like a tax ID or a social security number) because you haven’t been able to get a Norwegian ID number yet without a work contract. To your utter surprise (and I’m saying this with a dry undertone, as you might know if have lived in Norway before), it doesn’t work with a D-number. You can only get a mobile number with a Norwegian ID.

(And you can’t get the Norwegian ID without a work contract, and as I said, I needed the number before my work starts. A bit a catch 22 right here.)

What to do then?

As you’ve learned from your Norwegian friend – you ask the chat. The person is very friendly, but they can’t help you either.

Alright.

A different provider then. It takes you some browsing to find a provider who doesn’t immediately ask for a Norwegian ID, and you think, yes, gotcha –

Only to be asked for your bank ID in the next step.

Funny thing is, you can’t get a bank ID (a sort of digital ID) without a Norwegian ID number. You get a bank account, sure (even though that is a bit of a hassle), but no bank ID.

So, we’re back at zero, my friends.

A few hours of googling, chatting with several providers, and twenty WhatsApp/discord/choose-your-messenger messages and two calls with your Norwegian friend later –

And still no phone number.

.

.

.

So for those of you who are trying to get a Norwegian phone number, maybe this wasn't the most helpful advice after all. But hey, now you know what doesn't work?!

.

.

.

How did I get a phone number?, you might ask.

Well, my Norwegian friend ordered one for me through their own account on their Norwegian ID and their bank account. What people do who don’t have a Norwegian friend, I have no idea. Probably wait for their Norwegian ID number or death, whatever comes first.

Digitalisation is great. But it does not make everything easier.

*Just for clarification, it is maybe easier to get a prepaid card. This just wasn’t an option for me. But technically, you would need a prepaid card to then buy a subscription, which is definitely not stupidly complicated at all. Also, you can’t just buy a prepaid card because, you know, you could be a criminal or whatever. So, if you want one, you need to identify yourself with your D-number (or your Norwegian ID), which again, you’re completely screwed if you don’t have a D-number yet. But hey, it only took me half a year to get an appointment for that!!

(Disclaimer: This text was fact checked by my Norwegian friend. Errors might still occur.)

[nightlywords7]

I feel like we’ve shared ideas enough. An excerpt from the Billy Russo story. Let me know what you all think!

——————

Billy walked down the corridors of Anvil, proud of the achievement he had made. Not everything was handed to him, but he was thankful for the guidance he was provided by certain people in his life. Frank, Curtis and one polarizing individual that only the closest to him knew about. It wasn’t like he was ashamed, far from that, but the name alone was synonymous with many avenues that he rather not touch upon. He wanted to be his own man, without the influence of his mentor, if he could call him that.

“Mr. Russo, you have a visitor in your office. I insisted that it was by appointment only, but he insisted that you wouldn’t mind at all.” Patricia apologetically informed him.

“It’s fine,” Billy was just thinking of him, it was as if he summoned him. Billy gave her a reassuring smile and walked in his office, definitely not expecting the man that was awaiting him. “Alfred.” He breathed out.

“Master William, you have changed your number.” There was a disapproving undertone, but Alfred smiled regardless. “I know you wanted your space from Master Bruce, but I would think you would let little old me know when you’ve decided to change your mobile phone.”

“I apologize Alfred, it was not on purpose. Please, call me Billy, none of this master stuff.” Billy insisted, gesturing for him to sit down.

“You are a Wayne, even though you would like to pretend that you are not. I will address you as I see fit.”

Billy just nodded his head. “Alright Alfred.” He chuckled. “You always say you hated New York, even though Gotham is basically identical.”

“Gotham has a different aura, I always told you this.” He smiled however, Billy noticed it didn’t reach his eyes. His eyes were bloodshot, further upsetting Billy.

“Are you okay? Is there something going on with you?” Bruce wasn’t even the first thing on Billy’s mind.

“No, I’m afraid it is time for you to come home.”

“What? Why?” Billy’s brows furrowed. “I am home.”

“It’s time Master William.”

Time?

Billy froze then.

When he left Wayne manor all those years ago, he always told Alfred and Bruce that he would never return. While fighting criminals as Robin was fun, it wasn’t something he wanted to do for life. He wanted more than that, wanted to be his own person. He was overshadowed by Bruce. He oversaw the applied sciences with Mr. Fox in Wayne Enterprise, but he didn’t want to do that for life. He wanted to make a name for himself, to have something of his own. For someone who had been looking for a family all his life he found it in two places, the Castle’s and oddly enough with Bruce Wayne. To learn under the Batman, it was something else.

Bruce always told him that one day, he would take up the mantle, something Billy never really believed. Bruce craved the adrenaline, the anonymity, the justice that came with putting these criminals behind bars. Billy felt the same way till it became almost routine, and he didn’t want that. He craved something more, to make his own name without any influences from Bruce. And it didn’t sit well with him when Bruce took you away from him.

You were the only thing that kept him in Gotham. The librarian at the University that Billy frequented, pretending to have no idea where certain books were and such. You eventually got a job at the Applied Sciences division at Wayne Enterprise, and your relationship deepend then. While Bruce was happy that Billyhad found someone, he knew the risk and distractions it provided, so he advised Billy to leave you, which did not go over well with his young protege.

Rachel flashed through Bruce’s mind every time he saw you. So brave, so strong, so kind, yet so vulnerable. Billy remembered how Bruce stated that with great power came great responsibility. Billy agreed with that statement, but that didn’t mean he was willing to leave you. It was the reason he decided to develop Anvil, to protect the people who needed it most. Being a vigilante was for children with money, he wanted to build something greater than one person, something that could encompass cities, countries, hell, even the world.

Anvil was beyond anything Bruce could have done, at least, that’s what Billy believed.

But Bruce made the decision for him, he got you transferred to Queen industries in Star City, to learn under Felicity Smoak. It was the nail on the coffin for Billy. He chose to live, but Bruce told him that one day, he would need to come back. Gotham needed a hero and he couldn’t do this forever.

Billy merely scoffed.

And now, the time came.

“Where is Bruce?” It was the only words he managed to utter.

“He’s dead Master William, Master Bruce has died.”

[cinnamonest]

Yandere Kaeya Alberich

Words: 3,162

Tws: General yandere content, Kaeya being a dick

Summary: You’ve been trying to avoid the Favonius captain. He’s convinced you’re unsafe without him. If you don’t believe that, he’ll prove it to you.

"Traveler."

Your muscles tensed. The hairs on your skin raised up. How?

You turned your head towards the voice, a strained smile across your face. "Captain Kaeya!" You pushed with all your effort to make your voice sound pleasantly surprised, excited, sing-songy in the way anyone who knew you would expect upon being greeted with a familiar face. "What are you doing so far out?" You said it so very playfully, casually, as if it was a casual conversation maker and not a genuine question that burned in your mind.

What the hell was he doing so far out of his jurisdiction? What need does he have to be out all the way in Liyue?

Why did he have to show up when you specifically went out of your way to avoid him?

"Oh, I was looking for you. Asked around. Heard you were hanging around the area," He said, pulling out a chair and sitting in front of you, effectively cornering you in your little spot in the corner of the small tavern. He smiled, folding his hands together and resting his chin on them. "I just sent a couple knights out to look for you."

He made no effort to even try to hide it. He was completely shameless. That explained the Favonius knight that had appeared in the tavern earlier - you'd felt uneasy as you saw the man gaze around, halting when he made eye contact with you, before abruptly stepping out as quickly as he'd come in. You should have trusted your gut and left as soon as you could - but here you were.

When you'd first met Kaeya, you'd admired the young captain. He was brave, skilled, charming, and undeniably a very attractive man. His charisma made him a well-respected, well-liked person throughout Mondstadt, even if his reputation did include an arrogance that was just as well-known as his skill.

That was the issue - you'd noticed that trait, that one characteristic about the man that made you uneasy, that upset you so greatly that you had resolved to avoid him entirely. Well, three traits.

One, he was obsessive, clingy, attached to a degree far too unnatural for someone who had known you for such a short time.

Two, Kaeya was a little overly touchy. It was just on the border of your discomfort, too noticeable for you to feel okay with it, but too mild to feel justified in confronting him about it. Everywhere you went with him, you could always feel his hands somewhere on your person.

And three, Kaeya was perhaps the most condescending, self-righteous person you'd ever met. He was always, always right. You never knew what you were talking about. He always knew better. He was always smarter, you were always dumber. Or so he seemed to believe. You'd grown to be increasingly irked, insulted whenever he would treat you like some naive idiot, reminding you how you, some foreigner, had no grasp on reality in this world. Really, you were hopeless, you really should let him stay by your side, help your poor naive little self navigate the world, since you were so incapable on your own.

"Oh," you finally responded, snapping out of your thoughts, smile straining, trying to come up with some response to the utterly creepy truth he'd been so shameless to reveal. "Yeah, I came out here for a few days. Really, uh, pretty area."

"Mm. That it is. This place attracts a good deal of tourists," he tilted his head. "The route here is... Particularly dangerous, though. You didn't travel here all by yourself, did you?" His eye contact was unwavering, and you found yourself breaking away, opting to gaze downward. "Or were you... Accompanied?"

"Ah, I came here by myself," you answered. "I didn't encounter any dangers... Outside a few hilichurls."

"Hilichurls are responsible for quite a few deaths in the area. You shouldn't underestimate them," he remarked. "Really, that's an unwise decision, coming here alone... You really should have sought some protection."

"Oh, I'm pretty good with a sword. I can take care of myself."

He laughed, shaking his head. "Is that so?" His voice was amused. Condescending. As if you were a child, some little kid insisting on your competence. "I'm sure you'd fare well, if you found yourself surrounded by them. Or worse," his voice darkened, "some... Other forces. Plenty of bandits and other criminals walk the roads in the Mondstat region."

Isn't it your and your knights' job to deal with that?

"O-oh, I see. Well, it's a good thing I didn't run across any of those..."

"Yes, it is." The blunt statement left you feeling your stomach churn with awkward silence that followed. The undertone - the clear hint of frustration - of his voice made you shiver. "They could easily catch you off guard..."

You'd left Mondstadt almost solely to get away from him for a few days. You needed some respite. The irritation in you boiled over ever so slightly. "It's ok, I'm pretty sharp. I'm always on guard."

Since meeting him, Kaeya had been attached to you virtually every waking moment of the day - no, he insisted on being near when you slept, too. On the very day of your arrival, he'd insisted you sleep in the knight headquarters, despite how many times you repeated that an inn was perfectly suitable. It was safer, he claimed. Safest in the little spare room just down the hall from his own, where he could come check on you before you settled down for the night. The first time, you'd been startled, flushing as he stood in your door frame, thinking that the moment he realized you were barely clothed in your sleeping gown, he'd surely get flustered and leave, but he didn't, opting to talk to you for several minutes before turning away. That experience had been... uncomfortable.

He'd been everywhere you were, both inside of Mondstadt and, albeit a bit less, in the wilderness. You weren't even sure how he kept appearing exactly wherever you were - you'd be minding your own business, and a knight of Favonius would appear in your line of sight - soon after, Kaeya would always appear. No matter what time of day, no matter how far out you were, no matter what you wore or who you were with. Even if you had other people in a party with you, he insisted on showing up, as he claimed, for your safety. Sure, you had other companions that could try to guard you, but really, were they any valid comparison for a swordsman of his caliber?

You didn't need them, he could easily be more than enough, surpass any other companions you could take with you.

"Excuse me miss," a waitress approached. Oh no. "Did you and your friend need anything else?"

You knew what was coming, but he moved to speak before you could, snapping his head towards the woman. "No. Could you kindly leave us alone?"

The poor girl's eyes widened. "O-of course. My apologies." She quickly scurried off.

You'd never seen him be anything short of rude, even downright nasty, towards anyone that entered his presence. Somehow, you felt that he likely wasn't like that when it was just him - he was too clearly well-liked to be so rude all the time.

"Anyhow," he turned back to you, "I came here primarily to fetch you... Extremely important matters happening back in Mondstadt. That bard is looking for you. Something about Stormterror?"

Oh. That changed things.

"Something's wrong with him?"

"Mhm. Apparently so, but I don't have any details. Your assistance is needed immediately, apparently. Come," he smiled again, rising and extending his hand, "I'll take you back."

It shouldn't bother you - you should be grateful. You should simply sigh, and acknowledge that even if he was clingy, even if he was unnecessarily protective, there was nothing wrong here, there was nothing about the situation that should give you the feeling that it did.

It was a weight in your stomach, a twisting in your gut. Something instinctive, something in your deepest, most primal senses, was set off, a chill seeping through your blood. An innate sense in your very core that directed your actions, told you to get away.

But your trained sense of social decency rejected such an idea. He was being gracious, kind, helpful, and although he might put you at unease sometimes, Kaeya was known for being an upstanding person. And besides, logically, someone who seemed to like you so much wouldn't do anything to harm you.

You realized that you had frozen in place, briefly lost in your thoughts. He cocked his head. "Something the matter...?"

"N-no! No, I'm fine, I'm coming," you stood hurriedly, pushing the chair back as you did. "Thank you, Captain Kaeya."

He hummed in approval. "Of course. What kind of knight would I be, letting a defenseless girl wander back alone?" He paused. "I'll always protect you, so long as you actually bother to tell me when you plan to disappear." Despite his smile, there was an obvious hint of passive aggressive irritation in his voice, and you tried not to cringe in discomfort.

"Oh, aha, I'll be sure to let you know next time."

"I'd appreciate that."

You wondered how you'd apologize next time when you conveniently forgot your promise.

As you exited the little tavern, dropping mora on the bar for the owner, you felt a firm hand on the small of your back, pushing you through the doorframe. The touch made you shiver, and it lingered, like a brand against your skin.

The walk back was lively, you weren't bored with Kaeya to talk to. Even if his conversation was primarily bragging about this or that, telling you all the oh-so-wonderful feats he'd accomplished in his time, it was better than silence, you supposed. You were back to Mondstadt fairly quickly - no hilichurl encounters, although you did briefly run across a few slimes that he insisted on taking down by himself.

"Hey, are you feeling alright?" He stopped in the middle of whatever he had been going on about - honestly, you weren't paying that great of attention. 

"What? I-I'm fine," you responded, eyes wide.

"Really?" he looked at you with something like concern in his uncovered eye, brows furrowing with worry. "You look... a little sick." Suddenly, he pushed the back of his hand against your forehead. "You feel hot, too."

Well, now you did feel warm, his touch leaving a searing feeling on your skin. "A-are you sure? I don't think I'm..."

"No, you're definitely coming down with something." He glanced over in the opposite direction, where the city walls were not too far off. "You probably haven't even realized it yet. I could carry you the rest of the way, if you'd like."

"O-oh, ah, no, that's fine! I can walk... just... fine..." You found yourself trailing off, embarrassment making your face burn. 

"Well, why don't we stop by the Knights' Headquarters before we go to meet that... Venti, was it? We have a nurse there that could see to you."

"I..." you paused. Once again, that dreadful, sickly feeling rose in your stomach. Something telling you that something was wrong.

And again, you pushed it back. "Ok, sure."

He hummed in acknowledgement, swiftly moving towards the gates. "Let's hurry, then. Let me know if you change your mind and want me to carry you." He added a slight smirk to his last sentence. You weren't sure if you found it endearing or irritating.

Once you got back, as expected, Kaeya began directing you to the Knights of Favonius headquarters. And you followed him, all the way in, all the way down the stairs, all the way into the hall -- wait.

You figured perhaps he was absent-mindedly headed that way out of force of habit. "Uh... Kaeya, are you sure we're going the right way? This is..."

The same little tucked-away hallway that your rooms were in. In fact, you were literally coming up on your room.

He stopped, turning his head your way with a soft smile. "No worries. You're really starting to look like the blood is draining from your face... I just figured I can bring the nurse down here." He paused next to your room, then took a step back, motioning his head, as if to tell you to go in. "Just sit down, I'll find her and bring her this way."

The churning was stronger than before. Every hair on your body stood up. Every instinct you had told you something was not right.

Nonetheless, yet again, you didn't listen.

Your feet clicked on the stone floor as you walked through the door. It all occurred so quickly, your mind spun. It felt like a punch to the gut, the air knocked out of you, the impact pain pulsing as your back was slammed into the wall. Strong hands kept a bruising grip on your shoulders. The room spun around you, head dizzy and struggling to process. What snapped you into awareness was a cold, sharp chill pressed right up against your neck, and a firm knee pressed between your legs.

He had you pinned to the wall, sword hovering ever so slightly above the skin on top of your veins. You gasped for air from the impact. "K-Kaeya!" You managed to choke out. You couldn't form anything beyond that. Panic was surging through your body, mind overwhelmed as survival instinct tried and failed to find a quick way to get away.

"What's that?" He pressed his face forward, almost nuzzling it into your neck. You could feel him smirking against your skin. "I believe I remember you saying something about how you couldn't be caught off guard...?" 

You were vaguely aware that you would normally be angry - furious - over whatever was happening here, but primal fear still controlled your brain at the moment, unable to feel anything but panic. You trembled.

"This is what I meant when I said you should be more careful," he muttered. "You think you're so capable and strong, but look at how easily I could trap you... I could kill you, right now, so easily."

Your body shook fiercely. You felt tears begin to gather around your eyes. "I-I just... Trust... You..." Your voice was weak, frail, trembling harder than your body. "You're, you're my, m-my friend..."

"Mm, plenty of people will come along pretending to be your friend, (y/n). You're very, very lucky that I actually do have your best interest in mind." Finally, he lowered the sword from your throat. You released a breath you hadn't realized you were holding in, and you felt your knees give way, stumbling forward, quite literally falling into his arms. He dropped the sword in order to catch you, and it clattered to the ground.

Your shaking hands grasped his arms, fingers digging firmly into his skin, desperate for some sturdy stillness to cling to. There was a moment of silence.

"You see, (y/n)? Think about all the people that wouldn't just be proving a point like I am... All the people that might want to really hurt you... Do awful things to you... Aren't you grateful I'm not like that?" His voice was deeper than its usual tone, and you felt his chest vibrate as he spoke from where your head was pressed against him. It was low yet soft, almost a growl, yet almost a whisper.

You were breathing rapidly, forehead pressed against his chest. You didn't respond.

"I said, aren't you grateful that I don't want to hurt you?"

"Y-yes," you found your voice. You didn't know what else to say.

"And you understand now... You need me. You need me there to protect you from bad people. You're so easy to trick and overpower... So naive... Imagine what could happen if you get into this situation again, but for real... And I'm not there?" He reached one hand up, stroking the back of your head. "Surely, you understand that now, don't you?"

You nodded.

"That's good. I hope you remember that, next time you try to run off." He tsk-ed, tilting his head to rest his chin on top of your head, grip on your shoulder increasing, almost crushing. "Honestly, you should really just be guarded full time. I could probably arrange that."

As you began to calm down, the reality of the situation began to dawn on you. Anger rose in place of the fear. He had the audacity to do something like this, and blame you for trusting him? You wanted to speak up, say something, but that same primal instinct told you it was a bad idea.

This time, you listened. 

He gently shifted, setting you down on the bed. "Now, you really do look sick, truly. Tell you what, I'll just go see that bard in your stead, tell him you couldn't make it. We'll have to just figure something out. I'll tell the nurse to come down here."

"Wh-what?" You started to stand on your shaking legs. "No, I-"

"You really can't be going out," he grabbed your shoulders and firmly pushed you back. "Really. You'll just get worse. Better to recover faster, than prolong your illness, no?"

"I don't feel si-"

"You are sick." Once again, his smile was betrayed by the irritation in his voice. "Don't tell me you don't know about the Mondstadt influenza? No wonder. You're foreign, so you're probably highly susceptible to illnesses you've never encountered."

You'd been given a rundown of local illnesses by Lisa, actually, but didn't recall such a thing. "I've... Never heard -"

"You won't feel symptoms for several days after first showing signs. You're very lucky I'm used to seeing it." He pulled out a watch, eyebrows rising. "Oh, look at that. It's already time to meet the bard. I'll be back in a little bit."

"Wait-" 

"It'll only be a few minutes. I'll be back soon."

"Captain Ka-"

"Get some rest now."

The door shut firmly. You heard his heavy footsteps quickly sprint down the hall.

A nurse never came. Ten minutes passed, half an hour. You thought about trying to go find her yourself. Maybe he was actually being honest. Maybe you were sick. You almost wanted him to be right. You would prefer being sick to the idea that he might be lying to you.

You preferred worrying about being sick to worrying about the implications and meanings of the situation if he was lying to you.

You finally stood, resolving to go find a knight yourself, ask for directions to the nurse. Something. Anything to get your mind away from this, distract yourself from your brain's racing to process what had happened just before.

The metal lock rattled against the wood as you tried and failed, with increasing desperation, increasing heartbeat, increasing rapid breaths, to open the door.

[smol-and-grumpy]

To Be Free - CH01

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Escaping and hiding away, that’s what she wants to do. Her parent’s remote cabin in the mountain sounds like the best place for it. There, she meets someone from her past — a green-eyed mountain man.

Chapter Warnings: A little back story, cheating (not Dean), language, threats being made, car accident

WC: 2481

Beta: @winchest09​ <3

A/N: So, this is the beginning of the Mountain Man!Dean AU. I hope you’ll like it!

Read ahead on Patreon!

Series Masterlist ~ SPN Masterlist

The phone buzzes on the seat next to her. Again. 

It hasn’t stopped ringing since Y/N had gotten into the car and drove away. She’s so close to just throwing it out of the window but then again, the rational side of her brain tells her that she would endanger the automobiles around her on the highway, and she doesn’t really want to cause any damage, or accidents, if it can be avoided. 

“You’re a goody-goody.” Mick always used to say, “It’ll get you in trouble if you don’t toughen up.” 

Perhaps Mick was right. She probably was not made to work in that firm where she has to help fucking criminals. But then again, he made it seem so plausible and she can’t believe that she fell for it all. Y/N had fallen for the prestige, for the fame, and most of all, she had fallen for Mick, and that was the worst fucking mistake. 

The events of that night flash before her eyes once more. 

It’s 9 PM. Mick usually doesn’t have a reason to work so late unless he has a meeting with the mob family that they have under their wings. She never liked to go to their meetings, always found an excuse to opt out. The way the men always stare at her like she was a piece of meat rather than a woman with a brain, always sent a chill down her spine. 

When she stepped out of the elevator, the floor was dark. There’s only minimal light coming from the reception area that’s vacated at this time of the night. Y/N never liked to be here after hours but it’s the only place she thought she could find Mick. He didn’t pick up his phone when she called him which was highly unusual. Somehow, she was a little afraid of what she would find. It could be him just laughing and joking with the mobsters, but it could also have been him bruised and beaten beyond recognition because the Family wasn’t happy with his work, or it could be worse. He could be dead. Today was his birthday too and she even ordered catering for the both of them to enjoy at home. She guessed that she would have to pop the dishes into the microwave because by the time she decided to check here, it was already starting to turn cold.

Walking further along the hallway, she noticed that the lights in Mick’s office are still on and a sense of relief washed over her, while the sense of dread built up in the pit of her stomach at the same time. 

“Oh god, Mick.” 

There was a faint moan that carried through the hallway of the offices. It made her blood freeze, but it forced her to walk faster.

“Mmh,” she heard Mick humming. “Always so fucking tight for me, Eve. Such a good pussy.” 

“Better than Y/N, I’d hope.” 

Mick chuckled, “I’d rather you not talk about her while I fuck you. You know you’re my best girl, baby.”

The dread in Y/N’s stomach intensified and something began to churn inside of her. She had to clutch it so as not to just hurl out the whole contents into the next pot plant she could find. 

Eve was her friend. Her best friend since she moved into the city two years ago. She was even the one who helped Eve to get a job at her boyfriend’s firm. 

Well, not her boyfriend anymore, she guessed. 

She reached the door, fingers clutched around the frame for purchase as she took in the image before her. Eve was bent over the table, Mick half undressed, fucking into her from behind. 

He threw his head back as he closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he turned his head and their eyes met. 

For a brief second, she thought she saw a smirk twisting at his lips when he noticed her. He kept on pounding into Eve, though, his pace never faltered. 

Y/N retreated, tears pooled in her eyes and she moved on autopilot. Before she knew it, she found herself in her office, packing the things that she needed into her laptop bag. 

‘Stupid! So fucking stupid!’ she thought. She should have seen it. Why hadn’t she seen it? The red flags were always there. Mick always gave her assignments that would see her traveling all over the country for a long stretch of time. She would find receipts of hotels laying around in the apartment, or when she did laundry, but he always had a good reason. They hadn’t been intimate for a long time, too. Mick was always too tired and if he wasn’t then she would be. And if that happened, he would get out of bed and said that he needed a drink and was out of the apartment before she could even say anything. She was so engrossed in her work and too oblivious to what was going on, that she ignored all the warning signs. 

She was crying now, the tears not stopping. But it’s not over Mick. She would never cry over a man who had treated her like this. She cried for herself, for being dumb enough to let someone play her. 

Bending down to pack the remainder of her things, she opened her last drawer, revealing a little safe that was neatly tucked inside. Without hesitation, she punched in the combination and it sprang open. It contained a single USB stick. 

Picking it up, she clutched it in the palm of her hand. She had forgotten about the small device and now she knew why Mick kept her around. She was the only person who had a copy of the shady business his clients are doing, because she was involved as much as Mick. He was never going to give her up because if the information got leaked, he'd be taking the fall. 

There were footsteps along the hallway, the thumping sounds getting louder as someone rushed to her office and she quickly let the stick slip into her jean pocket. 

“What are you doing?” he asked too casually but with a bitter undertone, acting like he hadn’t just fucked her best friend. 

“What does it look like?” she snarled, patience wearing thin. “I quit. And don’t even come by my apartment anymore.”

He walked in further; his hair was ruffled and the buttons on his shirt were hastily done up, the material lopsided as he had fastened them wrong. She was so disgusted by his appearance.

Mick rubbed his hand over his chin, carefully thinking about his next words. “I need the USB stick before you leave.” 

She snorted. That’s typical. All he could think about is his fucking business. “I don’t have it.”

“Liar!”

“Oh, look who’s talking.” Maybe, just maybe, she shouldn’t anger him but screw that.

“Y/N.” Mick rounded up around her desk and came to stand right before her. The scent of sex hit her nose in waves. It made her nauseous. “You’re going to get into so much trouble if they know that you have it and believe me, if you walk out of here, they will find out because I will tell them.”

“I’m not scared of those men.”

Mick laughed. Fucking laughed. 

“They’ll come for you, Y/N. Those men are not to be fucked with.” He was still chuckling when he said, “They will find you and they will kill you.”

She cocked her eyebrow, and maybe she should have been scared of Mick and his threats but she’s still got the upper hand. If she got to expose him first, she has bargaining leverage. Maybe she’d get to be in a witness protection program. By the time it hits the fan, she will hopefully be long gone. 

“I don’t have it,” she said again as she bumped her shoulder against his on her way out, shoving him to the side. 

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you!” Mick called after her, his voice echoing in the almost empty hallway. 

With her head held high, she descended the stairs, too impatient and not to say scared to wait for the elevator.

 The phone buzzed again after having only stopped for a short time. It actually hasn’t stopped ringing since she drove back to her apartment to pack her duffel with enough clothes that should last her for a couple of days. She wanted to get out of here, clear her head, think about what to do next. 

It’s after she stopped for gas that she remembered the remote cabin that belonged to her parents. They hadn’t been up there for a while as the health of her father was deteriorating but she knew where they kept the spare key, and it’s the only place she knew nobody would come looking for her because she hadn’t been with Mick long enough to let him in on the existence of the cabin, nor on the memories the place held.

Buying enough food that would last her a couple of days, she drove towards the foot of the mountain. 

It was February and the roads were icy as it had snowed just last night. She hoped that her car would have enough power to get her up there, as she didn’t have snow chains with her. Not that she knew how to put them on in the first place. If worse comes to worst, she’d have to abandon her car and hike up the last bit, which was totally fine with her too. Anything to get away from civilization.

As she made her way up the snowy road and rounded up the twelfth bend in the street (There were fourteen - she had counted them from the drive up there every winter), her phone buzzed again. 

She glanced over to the passenger seat to catch the caller ID. It could be her mother for all she knew and that one, she would pick up. Y/N would maybe tell her that she was on the way to the cabin so that they wouldn’t be too worried if they can’t get a hold of her, because the reception could be pretty spotty up there.

But no, it’s fucking Mick again. She rolled her eyes upon seeing the name flash on the screen before turning her gaze back to the snow-covered street in front of her, but it was already too late. Out of her periphery, she caught it. The deer that ran out of the woods, its eyes wide when it saw the headlights of her SUV. Her foot hit the break immediately, but it was too late. The car swerved on the icy ground and she hoped she didn’t hit the animal before her vision goes black.

  Dean was sitting in his recliner in the cabin while he enjoyed his glass of bourbon. It’s his downtime, one of his favorite pastimes, next to spending his days out with Stevie, his Bernese mountain dog.

He had been coming to this cabin since his early childhood, having only missed one Winter out of the many. There were times where he would only spend a week up here but also there were times where he would be there for the whole winter. It’s his favorite place, always has been. 

The cabin is not as big as the ones that surrounded it, but it’s enough. It has only one bedroom, yet it was cozy. He remembered back to when he was younger, when he and his younger brother would sleep on the fold-out couch while his parents took the bedroom. Sometimes if Sam was upset with him, Dean would spend the night on the rug in front of the fireplace instead, and it was the best thing. He almost felt bad for wanting to get into a fight with Sam more often so that his sibling wouldn’t look at him funny when he wanted to spend the night on the floor instead of on the worn-out couch.

Once his parents stopped their annual visit up there, and they wanted to sell the cabin, Dean had saved enough money to buy it from them. There were just too many memories tied to the little property, too many of them that he wasn’t willing to just forget. 

While he took a sip from his tumbler, Stevie lifted her head and twisted her ears. 

Dean noticed, and immediately reached down to pat the dog's head, “What's wrong, Stevie?” 

The dog ignored him to get up and walk over to the door, letting out a whine as her nails started to scratch at the wood. 

“Easy, girl,” he soothes the agitated dog. “You wanna go out for a walk again?” 

Stevie whined some more, her scratching becoming more frantic. 

“Right,” Dean sighed as he got out of his seat. He took his time to empty his tumbler before setting it down on the coffee table. “Let’s go then.” 

The snow had started to fall again as they got out of the cabin, and he ducked inside once more to grab his hat that’s hanging on the hook right behind the door. Stevie was not impressed that it was taking Dean so long to get ready and started to bark.

“Easy, Stevie,” he chuckled as her wet nose nuzzled against his palm. He reached down to scratch behind her ear, a motion that seemed to calm her down. “Good girl.” 

They made their way down the street. The old snow crunched underneath his boots. Fresh layers of the white powder would cover over it soon enough, erasing their prints when it settled. He thought about doing their usual nightly walk around the perimeter, wondering if maybe they’d see a deer or two. Stevie had a way with deer. They love to meet her and Dean’s always mesmerized by the unusual bond they had. Stevie was always good with other animals and people, the dog’s sense to protect everyone is highly admirable, and Dean really couldn’t wish for a better companion.

As they rounded up the second bend in the road, he saw the car. Its headlights were still on but the front was wrapped around a tree which was the only thing standing between the car and the abyss. It was not a strong pine and the wood was already creaking under the weight.

Stevie rushed forward and Dean followed suit. The tree was going to give in at any minute, he just knew and if he couldn’t save the car, maybe he would be able to save whoever was stuck in there.

Dean thankfully reached the vehicle in time, yanking the driver’s door open and the sight of the girl slumped over the steering wheel made his blood run colder than the icy road he was standing on. 

“Y/N?” 

CH02

Please share your thoughts with me, I’d love to hear your feedback.

​

[todoscript]

Syndicate — [ 1 ]

Parts | one ; two ; three

Genre | Mafia AU / Anti-Villain AU.

Pairing(s) | MafiaBosses!TodoBakuDeku x Fem!Reader

Rating | Mature

Words | 5.2k+

Summary | Being the lover of, not one, but three influential young men, who are the leaders of the most wanted crime syndicate in Japan, it is no surprise that other eyes are watching you beyond the three’s own.

Warnings | Violence. Cursing/crude language. Guns. Mafia talk/“negotiating”. Lots of fighting. Reader is inspired by the femme fatale archetype. Polyamorous relationship. Characters are aged-up. Sexual undertones/implied sexual content. Possessiveness. Heavily self-indulgent. Written in 3rd POV. Shouto’s “codename” is Mercury (b/c the planet is both half-hot and half-cold lol).

Author’s Notes | Hello all! This is the first ever fanfic I’ve posted on tumblr! Sorry, the idea was lingering in my head until I suddenly felt the burst of energy to start writing this out of nowhere in the dead of 3AM. I’ve written fanfiction before but I’ve never published anything for tumblr so this is exciting.

The air is still, nearly silent apart from the nocturnal creatures that scurry and prowl through alleys, navigating over the dewy darkness between the seams. The moon graces the gloom of the night with its luster across desolated areas in Japan. Business hours have longed past as services are halted until the next coming day. Civilians are nowhere to be found, tucked away in their homes with their lights flickered off.

What remains alive in Japan during this hour is the wind cast through the streets, the scamper of animals in the nocturne, and a low hum of an ebony vehicle driven down roads of street lights.

“Whatever the fuck Overhaul wants better be worth my fucking time, Deku,” hisses a peeved Katsuki Bakugou, leaning against the window of their sleek automobile and looking highly uninterested during the ride. Izuku Midoriya, the young man with the head of unruly verdant hair, nods his head. His expression is mild at his friend’s usual discontented tone.

“Kai Chisaki—the head boss of the Shie Hassaikai yakuza—wants to negotiate with us, Kacchan. Surely it would be advantageous for us to hear him out. If anything we’ll manage to at least squeak some intel from him to reference for later on.” A glint rises in the male’s eyes.

“‘Some intel’ ain’t enough. If they’re gonna drag all three of us out here, then it better be for something good, or else I might have to let off some explosions to satisfy my boredom.” Bakugou’s quirk begins to pop and crack around his palms at the idea of letting loose.

Shouto Todoroki—the third of the trio—sighs exasperatingly at his fellow inflamed mafia boss, running his hand through his red and white tresses.

“Bakugou, I’d advise against it. Knowing the location we’re heading to, your explosions would only cause a ruckus in the area that’d get the annoying heroes involved. I’ve had enough dealing with those fools as it is and we also don’t need the men in blue following after our trail.”

“Shut up Icy-Hot! If this ‘negotiation’ isn’t beneficial to us, I’ll find my own way to make them pay for wasting our damn time!” Bakugou yells.

These three young men—Izuku Midoriya, Katsuki Bakugou, and Shouto Todoroki—are known as the bosses of one of Japan’s most powerful organized crime syndicates.

Notorious, ruthless, and authoritative, these three, despite their youth, have secured a name for themselves within the underground crime world. Aside from their tenacity and skill, the strength of each of their quirks played a large factor in their rise among the rivaling crime groups. They easily snuffed out the weak competition without so much as a sweat, and working under them are other strong combatants, each of them possessing their own unique and powerful quirks.

With everything at their disposal, the Yuuei mafia group quickly obtained a vast, large territory within the capital of Japan—the epicenter of where all the shady deals and disputes occur.

“We didn’t even bring Angel Face with us. What a drag.” Bakugou gruffs. He leans back in his seat, arms crossed, and cushioned behind his head as the lamps flicker past them, the dim lights splayed across the endless road.

“Letting ____ rest was the least we could do after her successful infiltration at the political officials gala,” the middle of the three states matter-a-factly.

“Especially after the rounds she endured even after her mission,” Todoroki adds, vividly remembering the gala dress cascading down her skin and clinging to her body that night, as well as their antics that ensued afterward.

He recalls the beautiful, red formal gown she wore for the occasion, the material hugging her figure perfectly and accentuating her curves in all the right places. God, he prayed that something within him wouldn’t stir at the thought of it again.

They all remembered it quite clearly. It made their fingers itch the very evening of the event, yearning to touch all the dips and arcs that sculpted her body. Her hair, styled up and tied with a matching silk red ribbon, kept the skin of her neck bare and begging to be marked while gold lined her wrists and collar bones. To say she was a goddess that night would be an understatement. The three could barely keep their hands off her before she even left the mansion, let alone attend the gala. But once her mission was complete, she arrived home to be thoroughly loved and lusted, with three young and hungry men indulging in all the divine fruits this celestial being had to offer to them.

The girl they speak of is not only their right-hand woman but also the three’s beloved paramour. Since their journey into coming to power, ____ has been with them through thick and thin and has become an influential asset in attaining their position.

Beautiful, yet dangerous, she proved to be an incredibly powerful fighter in many forms of combat in combination with her quirk, along with having a gift for deception that allowed her to climb her way to the top of the pack. Naturally, the trio found themselves drawn to her, not just for her strength and beauty, but also her passion and ability to mend the spirits of those around her. If it weren’t her, the Yuuei mafia group would not be as intact and well-oiled as it is today.

“Besides, we have some of our best following in the car behind us in case anything suspicious happens,” Midoriya gestures to the similar-looking sleek and dark-tinted car trailing behind their own.

“I very much doubt we need them, but it’s best not to worry Angel too much while she’s resting,” Todoroki murmurs, crossing his legs.

A few more turns and they’ve eventually entered the area of a vacant warehouse located on the edge of Japan near the shore.

The moment their vehicle is directed to a stop, the three bosses exit. Bakugou vehemently slams his door, eyeing the building with a vexing glare.

“Let’s get this shit show over with. This better be good.”

The warehouse is eerily quiet in the dead of the night and smells of salt from the ocean behind it. Spotting them walking to the entrance, the watchmen of the Shie Hassaikai yakuza hastily open the doors enclosing the warehouse. The hinges bear an uncomfortable creaking sound that jars through the silence.

“Oh, he’s here! He’s here! My cute little Izuku is here!” hollers a shrill voice belonging to an all-too-energetic head of messy, bunned-up blonde hair. The said boy blinks twice at her enthusiasm as they approach the lone wooden table situated in the center of the warehouse.

Uh, do I know her? He ponders for a second before dismissing the thought.

A pale man with gloved hands and shaggy auburn hair holds a hand out to halt the girl behind him. “Calm down Toga, we haven’t spoken of negotiations yet, so I need you to be quiet.”

Toga pouts, nearly grasping a silver blade at her side but stills herself for now. In the meantime, she opts to fidget with the tubular machine wrapped around her body.

The three look up to view a small group illuminated by the light fixed above the wooden table. Their eyes swiftly count seven or eight of them surrounding that area, including the ringleader, and likely more hidden somewhere in the darkness around them. After all, any fine and experienced villainous group would know better than to invite the bosses of the most dangerous crime syndicate without being thoroughly prepared for a possible scuffle to occur.

However, for now, they all advance with the notion to talk first before unleashing quirks and violence (well most of them anyway).

“Welcome, welcome. I see you made it to this place without much trouble; you’re right on time,” Overhaul greets the three young men mildly, “Deku, Ground Zero, and Mercury.”

Midoriya walks forward as the center of their entourage to return the cordial greeting. “Yes, it’s nice to finally meet you, Kai Chisaki of the Shie Hassaikai yakuza. Otherwise known as Overhaul.”

“Ah, so you know of me and my cause. It seems our reputation precedes us.”

“Of course. The Shie Hassaikai yakuza has long been in business in the crime world…” Midoriya muses, “Though they’ve wrung out past their former glory. Having since been pushed back into the underground after the rise of heroes.”

Bakugou smirks, close to letting out a snicker at the backhanded comment.

It’s true. While the Shie Hassaikai were one of the main criminal groups running the yakuza underground, that all soon fell and crumbled as the surge of heroes came into society. It was only after the former boss’ grandson, Kai Chisaki, came into power and took leadership that their name grew back into prominence once again, albeit little by little.

“Why you little–” A man donning a long white raincoat and plague doctor mask swiftly appears with a pistol pointed in Midoriya’s direction, none too amused by the remark. However, he’s cut off by a wall of ice erected at Midoriya’s side.

“Watch where you point those toys you little rat,” Todoroki sneers, and the tone of his voice nearly exposes chills to the air.

“Calm down, Chrono. We’re the ones that invited them as guests, thus we need to treat them like so.”

The white-haired subordinate withdraws at the words of his leader, retracting the gun back into the pocket of his coat.

“I apologize, he’s simply on edge over the fact we have some pretty powerful people at our doorstep. You’ll have to excuse him.”

“It’s quite all–”

“Did we come here to talk, or did we come here to fight?” Bakugou barges through, shoving past Midoriya with no restraint.

“I thought this was a fucking negotiation, not an apology fess. If one of your dogs is so edgy, I’d be happy to give him a good thrashing to satiate him if you want,” his raised hand sparks and flickers in the dark, “If not then get to it, Overhaul,” he threatens. Midoriya sighs.

“I think we’re simply all… piqued as to why this meeting was demanded out of nowhere and scheduled for the dead of the night no less, but I’m sure you have some important matters to discuss with us right, Overhaul?” Midoriya reasons, a sly grin on his lips.

“Right, let's get to it shall we?” Approaching closer to the table separating them, Overhaul continues, “First off, I must congratulate you on successfully infiltrating that gala the other night. Not many crime organizations can sneak into a party of that caliber. Especially when it’s so heavily guarded and kept secretive to all suspicious eyes of the dark,” he commends, digging a hand into the pocket of his jacket.

The three exchange quick, wary glances from the corner of their eyes that the opposite party misses.

“You were there?” Todoroki questions bluntly in which Overhaul hums in response.

“Hm, yes. But for different reasons, I’m sure. You see, I’ve been… examining little details of the Yuuei mafia group recently. It fascinates me how well-oiled and efficient you are at running your organization, so I began to ponder: ‘How do they do it?’ Little did I know, the answer all became more than clear to me from what I saw at that gala,” the auburn-haired man drawls, finally plucking out a photo from his pocket and sliding it across the wood under the light.

The moment the three recognized the image, their eyes widened, soon shifting into visages of sheer hostility at the next statement pronounced.

“This girl here? I want her.”

Within the confines of the paper is ____, dressed in the red gown she wore the very night of the gala, a masquerade mask over her features with the purpose to obscure herself in the throng.

The three before Overhaul seethe vessels of wrath.

“What did you just say? Do you even know what you’re asking of us?” Todoroki feels icy and heated atmospheres form on his opposing left and right sides upon hearing Overhaul’s words, sensing the tension rising around his fellow partners as well.

“The girl, I must say, does excellent work at her job. She’s skilled and tactical, having infiltrated many influential organizations and assassinated several powerful faces getting in the way of your mafia group. Such precision, efficiency, and beauty makes her the perfect woman, wouldn’t you agree?” He picks up the picture, bringing it up next to him.

Given the deadly pressure in the air, the next words he utters might be the final nail in his coffin.

“Well, I want you to hand her over to me.”

The nail is hit. There’s a lingering silence before hell nearly breaks loose and the next motions could deliver his soul down the River of Styx.

Fueled by blood-boiling anger and annoyance, Bakugou charges forward to land an explosive hit on the yakuza boss. “LIKE HELL WE WOULD, YA FUCKING BASTARD!” He’s thwarted by a yellow barrier emerging to shield the leader from the attack, courtesy of a henchman at his left side. The blonde jumps back, his hands still crackling and his rage not dissipating anytime soon. “Don’t go spewing a bunch of shit outta your mouth!”

“Now… let’s be rational or you’ll start getting dirt everywhere...” Overhaul dusts off his shoulder before resuming the conversation nonchalantly, “Of course I’ll provide you with compensation. I wouldn’t be so naive as to expect to be given something so valuable without offering payment after all.”

With a snap of his fingers a large, bulky man promptly lays a silver briefcase on the table. The locks click open to reveal wads of cash layering the case to the brim, enough to flabbergast and entice any common citizen in Japan.

“If this amount isn’t enough, I have another briefcase with—”

A jolting sound of the wooden table and metal briefcase breaking beneath Midoriya’s foot is enough to diminish the rest of Overhaul’s remark, signifying their blunt answer to his offer.

“What a waste of a night it’s been. Presenting money to us in hopes that we’d simply hand over our beloved like she’s some prostitute for sale? You're more of a fool than I took you for, Kai Chisaki,” Each word that rolls off Midoriya’s tongue is laced with venom. Such malice is enough to paralyze those who hear it, as if it would be the last statement they’ll ever listen to before hitting the concrete dead.

Reasoning with the trio any further is equivalent to bargaining with the god of the underworld, offering nothing but your knees on the floor and a sad pleading voice, only to be whisked back to the deepest, darkest chambers of hell.

Overhaul simply pauses before following with a long, testy sigh.

“A no then? Alright. Toga.”

The bun-headed blonde pounces forward at the command almost instantaneously, knife in her grasp and ready to swing. Midoriya moves to the side with ease, evading the blade as well as dodging a puncture from a needle. His agility is manifested in green electric currents of aura.

“Ooh, I finally get to cut up and obtain cute Izuku’s yummy blood!” She grins psychotically, keeping both eyes trained on the green-haired boy. “Heehee, I’ve been waiting for this day! Ever since I saw that photo of you all bruised up in a fight, I had to have you all to myself! I just love a man all red and bloodied!” Toga exclaims in utter glee, giggling like a schoolgirl meeting her celebrity idol.

Midoriya grimaces, nearly shivering at her excitement over announcing her neurotic confession to him. Her contorted facade is not earning her any points either. Taking notice of the wary expression that crosses his brows, Toga grins wider.

“It’s OK, even if you don’t like me now, you’ll definitely like me when I get a drop of that girl’s blood and transform into her! We’ll look so much alike, you’ll have heart-eyes for me too!” Her features curve into a look of pure hysteric that leaves Midoriya speechless, so much so it takes a loud blast hurled past him to finally bring his senses back to the conflict.

“Move it, Deku!” Bakugou’s attacks are relentless and powerful, but Toga’s nimbleness prevents her from getting hit.

“Deku, Ground Zero, back up,” Todoroki raises his left hand, the corresponding side flaring with heat before quickly igniting into bright hot flames enough to cover his entire arm. “You lot have some nerve to call us and arrange this abhorrent deal under the guise of a ‘negotiation.’ I’ll incinerate you all for even thinking you could take her from us.”

His quirk is unleashed in a flurry of fire that’s launched toward his enemies.

“Dabi,” Overhaul signals and a lanky man with patched, burnt scars and skin held together by staples and stitches steps forward, triggering his blue blazes to combat the red-orange ones. The infernos collide into a firestorm that soon scatters and disperses due to a power struggle.

“Tch,” Todoroki narrows his brows, annoyed.

“Hm, the brat’s not all talk after all,” Dabi’s expression remains stoic while his hand hovers in front of him, still swallowed by his azure flames. Wordlessly he releases his blazes once more only to be countered by Todoroki’s wall of ice diminishing the onslaught of fire.

On their end, Midoriya and Bakugou are in pursuit of the head honcho Overhaul himself, while attempting to throw blows at Toga along the way.

Now enveloped in energy that increases his strength and dexterity tenfold, it isn’t long until the green-haired young man catches up to crafty Toga’s momentum. With a grunt, Midoriya kicks forward, swinging his foot into the girl’s direction with tremendous force that’s too quick for her to avoid.

Toga braces herself for the impact but the attack never meets. Instead, a yellow shield materializes in front of her to take the blow, a crack now evident on the surface of the saffron safeguard. “Oooh! Izuku’s really out for blood! How thrilling!” she squeals, licking her lips.

“It’s that fucking barrier bastard again! Move over, I’ll kill him!” yells a pissed Bakugou who jumps over Midoriya’s head, running across the top of the manifested barrier. From there, he spots his offender.

Gritting his teeth, he dashes off the shield before it can disappear and uses it to propel himself forward. His palms glow and envelope themselves with heat as he holds them outward.

“Rappa! I can’t conduct another shield so quickly, get him!” Tengai, the one with the barrier quirk, hastens his partner. Rappa zealously swoops in front of him with iron-knuckle gloves ready.

“Oh no, you don’t! Try and fucking dodge this!” Bakugou brings his hands forward while still in midair, “Stun Grenade!” A radiant, gleaming light emits from his palms, effectively blinding all those within his vicinity.

Rappa and Tengai have no choice but to cover their eyes from the intensity of the light, leaving them wide open to strike!

Without hesitation, the ash-blonde creates two more explosions to launch himself forward, spinning in the air and gathering momentum before firing his attack encased in an explosive tornado.

“Howitzer Impact!!”

In an instance, a flash exudes in a fiery burst of nuclear reaction, which releases violent discharges of kinetic energy towards his enemies. The attack hits home, covering a chuck of the area with debris and rubble, and producing a hole on the right side of the warehouse.

Tengai and Rappa are incapacitated.

“Kac— Ground Zero, you went all out didn’t you…” Midoriya mutters while holding Toga down despite all her fidgeting. In a last-ditch effort, the girl draws out the spare knife tucked away in her utility belt, however the young man on top of her knocks it away before she can react any further.

“Toga, am I correct? I suggest you stand down, or I may have to break something to make you cooperate.” Midoriya’s warning exudes a menacing tone, in contrast to his former courteous character and the gentle features adorning his face. Yet Toga does not seem fazed by this.

“Heehee, you’re so cute when you make threats like that…” she giggles, shifting her head ever so slightly to catch glimpses of the male’s appearance. He’s quite disheveled down to his wrinkled suit, unbuttoned collar, sweat glistening on his forehead, and what’s this?

Toga peeks at a single crimson line split on the skin of his cheek with dilated pupils.

“Even though you were so fast, I at least managed to graze you just a teeny-tiny bit! That scarlet cut looks so nice on you, Izuku, aw how I wish I can give you more!” She prattles on and on, beaming over every utterance spoken past her lips. “I did say red is the best color on you, after all!”

Midoriya’s eyes narrow at her behavior, fists clenched and apt to deliver a silencing blow.

“Although… blue wouldn’t look half bad either.”

Unable to express confusion at her remark, he soon perceives a blast of cerulean blue flames aimed and released in his direction, forcing him to jump up to dodge the attack. Toga makes her escape after the fire diffuses, withdrawing next to Dabi. The patched man continues his onslaught on Todoroki and Midoriya.

“They’ve managed to defeat our spear and shield, and nearly took out Toga,” Overhaul’s stance is methodical and calculating, overseeing the fight from the back lines of his unit with a gloved hand beneath his chin. “I suppose it’s time to use that,” he declares.

Chrono briefly glances at him before reaching for a gun in the pocket of his coat—a different weapon from the pistol he pointed at Midoriya earlier. In a container held behind him, he produces a peculiarly shaped bullet, one that takes on the form of a cartridge with a hypodermic needle sticking out on one end.

“Dabi, when these bullets hit, that will be your chance to burn them all away,” orders the auburn-haired man. He raises an arm to prep for the signal as Chrono readies the gun wielded in his hand, positioning his target onto the spiky blonde mafia boss.

“Ha! You think a pathetic little gun is going to stop me?!” While Bakugou exudes confidence and arrogance, his dual-haired comrade is not as keen about the situation at hand.

Why would those fools try to use such a primitive method of fighting at this point? They saw how useless that gun was earlier… ponders Todoroki in the heat of battle, Unless…

“Ground Zero! Be careful! There’s something fishy about that weapon they’re using!” he warns, making the blonde’s expression fix into an irritated glare.

“Shut up Icy-Hot; I know what I’m doing! Why don’t you pay attention to patchwork over there before you get another scar!” Bakugou quips back, eyes never leaving Overhaul. “I’m gonna make this washout yakuza leader regret ever giving us a call to this useless negotiation.”

The man is impassive at the blonde’s threats, lips remaining in a fine line underneath his mask. His arm stays raised next to him for Chrono to acknowledge.

At once, Bakugou’s body launches back into action like a jet engine propelling a rocket. His movements gather more and more sweat to strengthen himself for another devastating assault.

“Pesky thing won’t stop moving…” mutters Chrono, hand continually shifting aim at Bakugou’s unpredictable tumbling. “I’ll just make you sit still!”

On command, arrow-shaped hair pierces through the fabric of his hood and extends straight to Bakugou. His quirk’s versatility and quick instincts allow him to evade the attack to the left with ease. However, it seems Chrono was waiting for that very moment as the blonde is now within his gun’s line of sight.

Overhaul draws his hand down, giving Chrono the signal to finally pull the trigger. A crack of a sonic boom resonates within the single millisecond it is shot. The dart is fired.

The gunshot rings throughout the space of the warehouse. Todoroki and Midoriya can barely register the shot in time to yell out to Bakugou, whose head turns toward the capsule’s velocity in almost slow motion.

Crap..! he curses, unable to move away to escape the bullet in time and preparing to embrace the shot.

However, it never makes its mark.

“Boss! Watch out!”

A gruff voice suddenly makes its debut within the fray, taking everyone by surprise as the newcomer throws himself in front of Bakugou, hardened arms crossed.

“What the—!”

Chrono watches in despair. The bullet ricochets right off the rock-like body of a man with spiked tufts of crimson red hair.

“What the hell? Red Riot?!” sputters a bewildered Bakugou at Kirishima’s abrupt entrance.

“D-Dammit!” Chrono tries to fire again to rectify his failure, but his attempt is in vain. Something muscly wraps around his arm tightly, tossing him away.

“Froppy!” Midoriya calls out to the girl as she retracts her froggy tongue, currently clung to the wall, and camouflaged into her surroundings. She reveals herself into the battle with a small “ribbit.”

“While you guys were inside, a bunch of their goons started surrounding our cars. We knew something shady was up, especially when we heard explosions coming from inside, so we busted our way in here right past them!” Kirishima explains, now standing back-to-back against Bakugou, “Seems like you’re fighting a battle too!”

“I see, so they planned on ambushing all of us if we didn’t comply with their deal,” says Todoroki. He fires more flames in their direction. “How pathetic. They were woefully unprepared.”

“Agreed! Ambushing is no way to fight! Real men would come at us head-on!” Kirishima emphasizes his fierceness through clanking his hardened fists against each other, jagged edges sparking.

“Red Riot! Froppy!” exclaims Midoriya, “Where are the others?”

Asui ribbits before answering, “They’re handling the rest of the—”

“L-Leader..! Leader!” a frantic voice shouts from the entrance of the warehouse, where a ragged up Shie Hassaikai henchman tries to pry inside.

“T-The girl..! She isn’t h-here, she isn’t— GAH!”

His message is interrupted. A menacing shadowy figure looms over the goon like a monster hiding within the dark and throws him back to the struggle outside, proceeding to rampage across the battlefield. Desperate cries leak out but to no avail.

Overhaul discerns the sputtered message:

The girl he so desired was not with them to begin with.

To his dismay, this fight was pointless. If what he sought could not be forcibly taken right then and there, then there is no reason to continue the battle. There was no prize to be won by the end of it all.

Now, he must adjust his plans due to the unfavorable news. How tragic.

At the thought of having lost time, energy, and resources, the yakuza leader pinches the bridge of his nose, utterly furious. There’s a pause in which Overhaul seethes an aura of killing intent over this frustration.

But it eventually simmers and subsides. What happens now cannot be changed, no matter how enraged he is. So he must take logical steps to preserve and remedy the repercussions, which to him was simple:

“We’re withdrawing.”

“What?” Dabi looks at him incredulously, “After all this?”

“Yes, they've taken down our spear and shield, and have wiped out the majority of the soldiers. If what we want isn’t here, then there is no point in staying,” Overhaul’s husky tone bears weight and authority at every word.

“Nemoto, grab Chrono from wherever he was thrown.”

“Yes, Overhaul. What about Rappa and Tengai?”

The auburn-haired man doesn’t so much as spare a glance toward his two defeated subordinates lying on the ground, “Leave them. They’re expendable to me.”

Nemoto nods, going to gather a knocked out Chrono thrown across the warehouse and now lying unconscious atop broken wooden crates.

Midoriya’s fists clenched tightly at the scene, realizing what the yakuza’s next plan of action was going to be.

“They’re trying to escape!”

“Oh, the fuck they are. I won’t let a single one of you bastards leave!” Bakugou bursts into the air, propelled by the explosions from his palms in hot pursuit, with Midoriya catching up thanks to his heightened speeds.

“Sorry boys, party’s over!” Toga intercepts the two using twin knives flung in their direction, catching them off guard. Dabi follows the diversion by gathering a massive amount of flames into his hands before swiftly releasing the kindled energy to erect a blue wall of fire throughout his surroundings.

“Bye Izuku~!” a feminine voice shrills from behind the fiery wall, becoming the last words they hear as they wait for the flames to dissipate, ultimately revealing that their enemies had already fled.

“Those fuckers couldn’t have gone far,” Bakugou doesn’t relent, poised on finding them and having them pay the full consequences of their actions. Midoriya grasps his shoulder, stopping him.

“Let them go, Kacchan. Considering the location they decided for this meeting, they likely fled by boat. We have no way of following them at the moment.”

Todoroki agrees, adding on, “Besides, there are more important things to worry about right now,” he casts his gaze to the wooden table Midoriya had broken prior to the fight transpiring. “For one, they’re after ____ and are willing to go to any lengths to get her. We need to head back to the mansion to make sure she’s safe.” There’s slight urgency evident in his tone. Despite their tenacity, the idea of having their beloved wrenched away is enough to render them even a little bit fearful. Had she been present in the conflict, there’s no telling what could have happened.

“And two,” Todoroki walks off to another site of the warehouse, picking up something dropped on the floor, “we need to figure out what this is.” In his hand, he holds the small capsule bullet that is now slightly dented thanks to the impact against Kirishima’s hardened skin.

The other two examine the capsule briefly until Bakugou decides to take it from Todoroki’s fingers for closer inspection. If Overhaul was so keen on using a gun to do away with them all, despite how inferior it was, then this must be no ordinary bullet.

The three decide to contain the item for further examination for now as they, Kirishima, and Asui make their way outside again. There, bodies of Shie Hassaikai thugs littered the floor after having been thoroughly beaten into submission. Tokoyami, Yaoyorozu, Uraraka, and Kaminari lean against the cars casually but remain attentive after the fight.

“It was quite an ill-planned move to dare to attack us in the night,” Tokoyami’s eyes closed in thought at the havoc he wreaked thanks to the amplified powers of his quirk. Kaminari snickers and boasts with an electric snap of his fingers, “Yakuza didn’t know what hit them, the mafia always stays on top.”

“Excellent work everyone, it seems the henchmen were of no trouble to you,” Midoriya commends the squad, “Now, we must leave before the police arrive on the scene to assess the damage.”

Their six combatants all nod at the order, about to gather back in their vehicle until Bakugou huffs with a final statement before they make their getaway.

“Know that the next time we see those Shie Hassaikai bastards, we will take them down,” He narrows his eyes at the ocean, the moon still hanging above the sky and basking the waters in moonlight,

“without hesitation.”

Ending Notes | Whew.. thanks for reading! For the next part I was considering writing it in 2nd POV since the reader will actually be physically present during the events of the story now, but I’m not sure yet. Please let me know your thoughts and follow if you’re interested in this series <3

[imonthinice]

The Criminal Psychology Majors, Jason Todd x Fem!Reader Part 8/?

Word Count: 1.6k

Author’s Note: Y/N - Your Name, A/N - Any Name (Your Best Friend’s Name)

This one is shorter because of the last one’s length.

Hi everyone! By the time you see this, I will probably be out and therefore cannot update the other parts with this one’s link, so don’t worry about that if you notice it.

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of Jason’s Trauma and his Death, Lightning, no beta bitch we die like Jason Todd

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 9)  (Part 10) (Part 11) (Part 12) (Part 13) (Part 14) (Part 15) (Part 16) (Part 17) (Part 18) (Part 19) (Part 20)

Going on day 5 of knowing each other, Jason and Y/N would spend the day apart. Why? Because they gave each other the chance to have family time, Jason got it by playing around with his baby siblings, playing Assassin.

Fluff Head canon came from frownyalfred on Tumblr, who wrote about Jason playing Assassin with his brothers 

He would go running through the halls playing the game that he and Dick knew all too well, it had been the only ‘no contact’ game they were allowed to play at a summer camp Bruce had sent them to all those years ago when they weren’t adults with a bunch of other siblings, and girlfriends. But here they were, explaining the game to their younger siblings while Alfred and Bruce hung out with Barbara, who wished she could play, but was paralyzed.

Everyone missed playing games with her like they used to, but with the video game consoles in the house they did transfer a lot of their gaming to online so they could relive memories with Barbs. It was bittersweet, and everyone remembered when she became paralyzed like it was yesterday, but she always wanted them to play games like they used to, with or without her. 

Jason admired his, hopefully, one day older sister for how she treated her disability, like it was a gift, not something that impacted her everyday life and made her have to hang up the cloak of Batgirl.

But running around chasing after Dick, because of course, he got Dick, the universe wanted them to play again, was something he missed so much. They hadn’t had so much of this time, family time, ever since they all became vigilantes, and they never realized how much they missed the thrill of running around with each other.

Jason ended up getting Dick and throwing him out of the game, calling it a ‘selfless act of brotherhood so you can hang out with your girl’ and they both laughed at it. Titus, Damien’s dog, ended up barking up a storm at Jason when he killed Dick, like the big dog was rooting for Dick to win the tournament.

“Down boy! It’s a game!” Jason would whisper-yell at his dog.

“Yeah! Good boy, Titus! Get him!”

“No!” Jason would yell while running throughout the house, Titus on his heels. Passing by Alfred, Bruce and Barbara, where Titus would stop and go lay at Bruce’s feet, but Jason didn’t know that.

Jason would end up coming in just 10 minutes later, with a green slash on his neck. Tim, who had pulled Cass but killed her, Cass, who had pulled Jason. Tim now had two kills in the game and both were to people who could have easily overpowered him. 

“Jase! Welcome to the land of the dead,” Dick greeted him.

“God dammnit I’ve already been here,” Jason whined in a joke.

“You and your ‘I died pity me’  jokes,” Barbara said.

“It’s called a coping mechanism, Barbs. And hi dad, Alfred,” Jason said as he waved slightly at both of them, Alfred waved back and Bruce nodded at him.

“You could just to go therapy, Jase,” Barbara said, seeming concerned for someone who she considered her baby brother. She remember when he came into the Manor, she was older than him, sure . But he had nightmares and she and Dick would switch between who would sleep at his door at night, they both had terrible backs until the nightmares calmed down. Jason never knew they did this.

It also happened when he was resurrected, but the nightmares were worse and he’d wake all sweaty and upset. There were too many nights where batkids would be in Jason’s bed with him from 12am to when Alfred would greet them in the morning. The nightmares had slowed down a lot in the past few years with the introduction of his Goddaughter into his life, but they still came by to remind him of what happened.

He didn’t talk about it much. They would always try to edge him on about about really happened, but he was stubborn. It made sense, sure, trauma is trauma. But they all wanted to help him get better. It hurt them all that he was hurting and they didn’t know how to help him get through it.

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Y/N would sit on her bed that morning and finally finished organizing her criminal psychology and regular psychology notes when she came across her printed copy of Dr. Barry Allen’s dissertation she had studied so hard. She found it so weird that she was so close to someone who she looked up to in the field while also being so far in the same breath.

She didn't dote on it for long, she stocked it away with her forensics notes in their place. This, the relationship she had with Jason that intertwined her with so many people, was something she was getting used to by the minute, but it was never something she’d get fully used to as time goes on.

She would put on a JCS - Criminal Psychology video in the background as she worked and tried to make her journal look nicer when Jason texted her,

Good morning. He said.

Good morning :)  She said back.

I just lost a game against a 16 year old.

Huh?

My brothers and 2 of my sisters were playing Assassins with me right? Well my 16 year old brother, Tim, he ended up getting the better of me and beat me. 

Oh! So you suck!

What!? No, I’m literally so cool what do you mean? He said, it clearly had sarcasm undertones to it, so Y/N wasn’t worried if she offended him with saying he sucked.

Oh yeah? Then why’d you lose?

Well, I killed Dick.

Okay so you didn’t lose, Dick lost.

It started raining a little bit, the sounds of it hitting lightly against her window, and she felt at peace. It was never hard for her to feel peace when she was by herself. She only had one roommate because she liked the silence, to be alone to collect her own thoughts in her head.

Her parents said it was because she probably had underlying mental illness that they never had the money to diagnose. She agreed. But she still didn’t have the chance to do it.

Jason and her deserved so much more than what the world have given them up to this point, so when they found each other it was, in a way, the universe saying ‘I’m sorry, you deserve this’ and with each passing day it made the pain they had both felt in their lives just a little bit more tolerable.

No, I guess Dick sucks at the game more than me.

Where’d you even get the concept for that game?

Dick and I used to play it at a Summer Camp before we got kicked out.

For playing the game?

No, for being unruly children.

You seem like you were a handful back in the day.

I was, I was the worst kid to raise, my dad has a shirt that says ‘Proud parent of a kid who is sometimes an asshole but that’s OK’ and he wears it all the time.

What a dad moment. Don’t tell my father that shirt exists, he’ll get one for my mum and himself to represent my sister and I.

Were you an unruly child as well?

I was a troublemaker. Getting into arguments with my authoritative figures about dress codes, rules, why girls couldn’t carry chairs, literally anything that was unequal, I was at their throats about it.

I mean, as you should. My older sister, Barbara, and my younger sisters, Stephanie and Cassie, they would like that about you.

I feel like in someway I’ve won over every part of your family.

The rain would get more violent as time went on. Strikes and hits of lightning would strike all around the city, hitting those gargoyles on every building, she always figured they were decorative, but A/N explained that their horns were made out of copper so people wouldn’t get struck by lightning. Bruce Wayne actually made that a thing, A/N said.

Y/N got a message from the dance competition that she signed up to, turns out, California was hit with a hurricane and most people evacuated. No one was allowed in or out. She guessed weather was being funky everywhere. It sucked, but she already was wishing she could spend time at home instead of out in the world.

A feeling she hated.

She would spend the rest of the day on and off the phone with Jason while it stormed. She would go to bed early that night.

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Jason slipped on his vigilante uniform, the Red Hood was going to be on patrol over this night, stormy or not, it was his duty and he knew that. Did he want to go? Yes. He was killing for some action and he was going with Dick. They would probably have some ‘Bro Time’ which Jason wanted. 

Even if it was silence, having Dick nearby him meant enough and gave him peace of mind.

He grabbed his guns and loaded them while packing a few extra magazines in his belt, when Dick placed a hand on his shoulder, “You have to be careful tonight, Jase,” Dick said as he gulped down tears, “Just come back to me alive if you break off from me, okay?”

“Alive but bruised,” Jason joked.

“I’m serious. I can’t lose you again and tonight is going to be massively dangerous.”

“You won’t.”

[kurokoros]

risky business | dabi

Rated: M

Words: 5.3K

Pairing: dabi x fem!reader

Summary: On your way home, you run into Dabi. He has no intentions of letting you go without having a little fun.

AN: This is a secret santa gift for @vixen-scribbles​ <3 I don’t think we’ve spoken much, but I hope you had a wonderful holiday! Also a special thanks to @the-smut-pile​ for hosting this exchange! This is by far the riskiest (hur hur) thing I’ve ever written, so I hope all of the degenerates out there are happy lmao

Warnings: smut, dubcon (consensual non-consent/roleplay), predator/prey undertones, knife play (and minor blood play) public/outdoor sex, mentions of voyeurism/exhibitionism, anal play, dirty talk (degradation), choking, hair-pulling, spanking/slapping, spitting rough sex, overstimulation, creampie/unprotected sex, aftercare at the end

Blue eyes stare down at you tauntingly from across the alley. He cocks his head to one side, watching as you shrink back against the wall. Amusement flickers across his face, a sick smirk tugging at his lips as you stare back at him, wide-eyed. Frozen in place now that there’s nowhere left to run. There’s a scream lodged in the back of your throat, trying to force its way out, but icy fear tears through your chest and rips the air from your lungs.

As your bottom lip trembles, his smirk only grows, pulling grotesquely at the staples holding his mismatched skin together. Burning, turquoise eyes look you over slowly, trailing from your terrified expression to your legs, your bare skin on display thanks to your short little skirt. Hungrily, he devours you with his eyes. Expression calculated. His eyes are practically glowing as he stalks towards you, his irises reflecting the light of the blue flames dancing threateningly on the tips of his fingers.

The predatory glint in his gaze makes your stomach twist into knots, but you still can’t will your legs to move.

“Well, what do we have here?” Dabi asks, his voice low and rough. A shiver runs down your spine. He stops when the two of you are nearly touching, an inch of space left between his chest and yours. Close enough for you to feel the immense heat radiating from the flames. “You lost, sweetheart?”

Concern drips from his tongue, but it’s mocking. Snide. Maybe the question would sound sincere if you didn’t know exactly who he was. If it wasn’t a wanted criminal standing in front of you. A villain. If he wasn’t looking at you like you were prey that he hunted down.

He’s playing with you. Toying with you now that he finally has you cornered. The chase was fun while it lasted, but now he has you right where he wants you, looking up at him like you’re nothing but a scared little animal. It’s pitiful, really. How easy it was. You made it so easy for him to catch you, almost like you wanted to be caught. A willing participant in the game of cat and mouse.

You don’t respond. Can’t. Desperate, your gaze flicks towards the mouth of the alley, hoping to find someone who could help you. The streets are still busy this late at night, the last train yet to depart.

It’s with a sinking feeling that you realize no one is going to help you. Most of the passersby refuse to look into the dark alley. And the lone man who does quickly averts his eyes.

Dabi’s gaze follows yours. Sick satisfaction bubbles in his chest when he watches the same man scurry away, his eyes wrenched away from the scene, ignoring what he’s just seen.

The flames licking at his knuckles extinguish themselves. Smoke wafts through the night air, dispersing slowly.

The tips of Dabi’s fingers scorch your skin as he grabs you by your jaw, digits digging into your chin. You wince as he yanks your head around, forcing you to face him. The fire is gone, but his hands are still burning hot, and his grip is tight enough to hurt. When your eyes lock, you find it impossible to turn away. Hypnotized by that deep shade of blue.

Suddenly, your mouth starts to work. “Please,” is all you manage to choke out, trying to beg him to stop, but the rest of the words die on your tongue.

“That’s right. Start begging like the little slut you are.” You want to shake your head, but his grip is too tight. “I’m in a good mood tonight,” he says, digging his fingers into your cheeks even harder, liking the pained grimace you give him. “Be a good girl for me and this won’t hurt too much.”

Hot fingers brush against your bare leg, and you’re wrenched back to reality. You slam your hands into his chest and shove him away. He grunts, taken off-guard by your boldness, and stumbles back just enough for you to slip away. You throw yourself to the side, lunging towards the mouth of the alley. But Dabi is faster. Before you can get far, he’s on you again. A strong arm wraps around your waist and hauls you back. You start to cry out, but the sound is smothered by a scarred palm covering your mouth. Instinct drives you to lash out, but Dabi throws you up against the wall before you can kick him.

It knocks the breath out of you. This time, his hand wraps around your throat and squeezes hard, choking you. It doesn’t take long for black spots to dot your vision. Your hands scramble for purchase around his wrist in a weak attempt to pull his hand away. Hot metal burns your fingertips. And you claw at him, your nails digging into the back of his hand and ripping at the staples holding him together.

Dabi swears as you manage to tear one of them out. The bloody staple clatters to the pavement, and the quiet, metallic chiming sound it makes might as well be a death toll. It’s followed by a louder shink that makes your blood freeze in your veins.

Cold metal grazes your cheek. Your struggling comes to an abrupt halt, your grip on his wrist loosening. Heart skipping a beat, your stomach twists as he carefully drags a knife down to your jaw, the sharp tip digging into your soft skin, though Dabi is careful not to cut you.

He sighs, low and frustrated, and you fight the urge to curl into yourself when he levels you with a harsh look, blue eyes alight. “You really wanna piss me off, dollface?” As he taps the blade against your cheek, you squeeze your thighs together, ashamed of the slick feeling growing between your legs.

When it becomes clear you aren’t going to fight him again, he releases your throat. Lightheaded, you gasp for breath. The knife shifts away from your skin, but doesn’t go far. Moonlight reflects off the blade as Dabi holds it in front of you, letting you get a good look at the thin, sharp object. The threat is blatant, and you shrink back against the wall.

There’s an audible hitch in your breathing as the tip of the knife touches your collarbone. The cold steel against your bare skin almost makes you flinch, and Dabi chuckles when he hears the small, shaky sound that falls out of your pretty mouth.

“Not so brave now, huh?” he murmurs, dragging the flat side of the knife along the column of your throat. You shiver as he ghosts the blade over your pulse point. “You gonna behave this time, or do I have to teach you a lesson first, pretty girl?”

The question hits you between your ribs, and you bite your lip when the knife slides back over your collarbone, trailing towards your cleavage. He clucks his tongue when you don’t respond. “Answer me,” he demands.

The blade stops when he reaches the top button on your shirt. You hold your breath as the sharp tip slips beneath the fabric. The button pops off and falls to the ground as Dabi slices through the thin string holding it together, revealing more of your pretty skin to his predatory gaze.

With the knife tracing the curve of your breast, you don’t dare ignore him. “No. I’ll—I’ll behave,” you tell him, stumbling over your words. Unintentionally, you arch your chest into his hand as the knife presses against you even harder, just shy of marking you.

“Good girl.” Dabi slips the knife under the next button, but changes his mind before he can cut it. Instead, he places the blade under your chin, forcing you to tilt your head up to meet his eyes. “Now why don’t you strip for me?”

Your eyes widen. “What?”

“You heard me.” Dabi shoves his knee between your thighs, forcing your legs apart. Your stomach rolls, but you have to stifle a moan when he grinds his leg against your clit through your panties. “Give me a show. Nice and slow, and maybe I’ll let you cum when I fuck your cunt.”

There’s something perverse about undressing yourself for him. Letting him watch as your shaking fingers fumble with the buttons on your shirt, practically ripping at them in your hurry to comply. He’s making you a willing participant in your own humiliation. Dabi wets his lips, rocking his thigh against your cunt with every button you pop open, which only makes you fumble more.

It doesn’t take long for him to grow impatient. As you struggle with the last button, Dabi murmurs a curse and tears your shirt open for you.

In his haste, the knife nicks your collarbone. The pain makes you whimper, and you flinch, causing the knife to dig into you harder before he angles it away. Blood wells in the cut. It isn’t too deep, or too long, but it stings. Your hips jerk against Dabi’s thigh, grinding against him. This time you moan outright, pleasure mixing with the pain, though you’re ashamed of yourself for it.

Dabi tenses when you mewl and rut against him, watching, fascinated, as a line of blood drips down your chest and soaks into the lacy cup of your bra. Even in the dark he can see the fabric stain.

There’s a split-second pause after as he presses the knife to your face. His demeanor shifts. Those blue eyes meet yours, searching your gaze, and he hesitates. Like he’s waiting for something. There’s blood on the blade from when he cut your chest, and it smears across your mouth as he slowly traces your bottom lip. Your gaze doesn’t waver, and you taste iron on your tongue after he pulls the knife away.

He slips back into character as his fingers slip into your hair. Dabi grabs a fistful of the soft strands and yanks, forcing your head to the side. A pathetic little whimpering sound is all that comes tumbling out of your mouth, and he smirks as you look at him with wide, teary eyes that do the begging your mouth can’t.

Your shirt is left intact as his attention shifts lower. He removes his knee from between your legs, and you almost whine at the loss of contact that you know you shouldn’t want. It shouldn’t feel good, but it does.

The knife leaves your cheek.

You tense.

The flat of the knife teases the inside of your leg, and you don’t dare move as Dabi drags it higher, inching closer to your dripping pussy. His hand disappears under the hem of your skirt, and you mewl, back arching off the wall as a hot hand teases your sensitive inner thighs. The fabric bunches around his wrist, revealing inch after inch of velvety soft skin to the chilly air. He grabs your leg with his other hand. Scorching fingers dig into your thigh, easily prying your legs further apart. As you shiver, Dabi runs the blade against you, making you squirm even more from the cold and the underlying threat of danger.

He stops. Looking down at your trembling form, Dabi eyes the mess he’s made of you already: your shirt ripped open, chest bloody where the knife sliced you open so easily, your skirt hiked up over your quivering thighs. You’re practically begging for him to bury his cock inside of you. Fuck you like a little bitch in heat.

You’d take his cock so well. Squeeze him just right. But he’s not done playing with you quite yet.

Suddenly, the knife is pressed up against your panties. The flat edge grinds against your clit, and you squeal. Without thinking, you grab his arm again, this time to steady yourself. His fingers are slick with blood where you ripped out one of his staples, but you don’t care, clinging to him as your legs threaten to give out. Your head falls back against the brick wall as he rubs the blade against your covered slit. “Don’t,” you plead, voice weak and laced with arousal. “Please…”

Dabi laughs when a soft, pleased mewl slips from your lips, your hips rolling back against his hand as he rubs your clit with the flat of the knife. It’s fucking filthy. Hot. And you hate how good it feels to have him play with your pussy like this.

You willingly spread your legs for him this time, and Dabi finally pulls your skirt over your hips. He leaves it bunched around your waist and takes a small step back to watch you grind your slutty cunt against the knife.

By now, your panties are soaked with your arousal. An ache settles low in your belly, and your walls clench around nothing as he presses harder against your clit. Tears burn at the backs of your eyes, shame swirling sickly in your stomach as you tug on his wrist instead of pushing it away.

The blade shines under the moonlight, glimmering wetly, and he quirks a brow. You barely stifle a whimper as he pulls his hand from between your legs. Before you can squeeze them shut, he shoves his knee between your legs again, his thigh grinding up against your pussy, not allowing you a moment to breathe.

“Look at that,” he muses, twisting the knife between his fingers so that you can see your own slick glistening on the blade. “Fuck, that’s hot. Thought you didn’t want me, dollface?” Your skin burns where he touches you. “Look how fucking wet you are already. Kinky little slut.” You turn your head away, but Dabi grabs your chin and forces you to look at how wet he made you.

When he’s sure you’re paying attention, he lifts the knife to his mouth. Heat flares in your belly as he licks your slick from the blade. Taunting you.

You slump forward as he yanks his knee away from your pussy, your legs giving out underneath you. Dabi catches you, manhandling you as he grabs your hips and spins you around; shoves you up against the wall, your cheek pressed to the bricks as his hand fists in your hair. You barely have time to steady yourself with your hands. Dabi presses the knife against the curve of your ass cheek, and you gasp as the sharp blade slips under your panties. He cuts the lacy fabric away and it flutters down, catching around your ankle. It’s soaked through with your arousal, cold against your leg.

The knife dangles from his fingers, pressed up against the inside of your thigh. The blade barely grazes your clit this time, teasing your slick folds. This time you can feel the cold metal against your swollen nerves, the sharp edge so close to nicking your sensitive folds.

Dabi slaps your ass suddenly. You squeal, hips lurching against the knife. He angles the blade away before you can cut yourself, spreading your cheeks apart so he can see your dripping slit. By now, you’re practically trying to grind against the knife, anything to relieve the tension between your shaking legs. It hurts. And the humiliation that washes over you only makes it worse.

“Gonna cum for me already?” Dabi asks, watching your hips stutter as he brings the knife back to your thigh. You whimper as he nicks you again. Warm, wet liquid beads in the cut, blood mixing with the fluids dripping from your drenched pussy. The blood smears against your leg as he rubs his knuckles against you. “Dirty bitch. Cum then. Or do you need a little help getting there? Hmm? You want me to make you cum all over my fucking hand?”

You shake your head, sobbing as he tosses the knife to the ground. Dabi’s arm wraps around your front as he brings his hand back to your leg. His fingers burn as they trail across your inner thigh. Small welts in the shape of his fingertips scorch your skin, leaving marks that won’t disappear for weeks.

Lazily, he strokes your clit, hand still hot to the touch as he rolls the swollen nub with his thumb. His chest molds against your back, crushing you between him and the wall as he traces your slit with two fingers.

Your body responds eagerly to his touch, your legs spreading to accommodate his hand. He chuckles as your hips roll against him, practically begging for him to fuck you, to make you cum over and over until you can’t take it anymore. And he’s more than willing to give your body what it wants.

You gasp as he shoves two of his fingers into your pussy, immediately picking up a harsh pace as he fucks you with his hand. You make it easy for him, your pussy taking his fingers so fucking well. They’re thick and long inside you, and it doesn’t take him long to find that spot that makes you squirm and cry out.

He shoves your face harder against the wall. Bits of brick dig into your cheek, but you barely feel them as he grinds his palm against your clit.

Expression contorted with bliss, you whimper as he forces a third finger inside your tight cunt, your walls stretching around the digits. He doesn’t give you time to adjust, rough thrusts picking up speed as your legs tremble, threatening to give out beneath you. It stings. Too much. Too soon. But Dabi doesn’t stop his brutal pace, even when there are tears streaming down your face and you choke out a sob, pleading with him to stop or slow down.

That only seems to encourage him. He yanks on your hair, pulling your head back against his shoulder so that your back is arched and he can see the line of blood dripping down your chest. You wince as one of the staples on his palm catches on your clit. The cool, metallic sensation is foreign and rough, but so, so good. Dabi grinds against your ass suddenly, making sure you feel every inch of his hard cock.

There’s a mocking tone in his voice when he asks, “That hurt?” He presses his thumb against your clit, rubbing with fast circles. “Can’t be that bad if it’s making you this fucking wet. Bet you like this, huh? Fucking slut. Letting a villain play with your cunt like this. Are you gonna cum for me? Fuck, this pussy is gonna feel so good around my cock.”

Your cheeks burn as you hear the slick sound of his fingers thrusting into your pussy, fluid dripping down his hand. Humiliation burns in your chest as you realize how quickly he’s going to make you cum just by fingering you in some dirty back alley. And your body betrays you, your cunt clenching around his fingers as those staples rub against your swollen clit again. The contrast between his hot fingers and the cold metal is dizzying.

“Please,” you whimper as he curls his fingers against your sensitive walls. Your pussy clenches around him tighter, a knot winding tight in your belly as he forces you closer to the edge.

Dabi lets go of your hair. You moan as he slaps the back of your thigh. “Desperate little bitch,” he calls you. “Begging me to play with your dripping cunt in some dirty back alley. Now fucking cum. That’s all you’re fucking good for.”

It’s him degrading you that gives you that last push you need, your body unable to fight him anymore. Dabi’s fingers curl just right and your hips buck into his hand, taking him deeper. Those staples rub against your clit harder, and your body locks up as an orgasm rips through you, leaving you breathless as you cum all over his fingers with a silent scream.

He drags your pleasure out until you’re crying, but you’re too weak to push him away. All you can do is squirm and cum again as he overstimulates you. And you feel empty when he finally pulls his drenched fingers from your cunt.

You slump against the wall as he lets go, fingers scraping the bricks as you try to hold yourself up on your trembling legs. He doesn’t allow you to get comfortable though. Dabi’s hand slaps your ass, and he chuckles when you squeal. He takes a step back, watching your cum drip down your thighs before glancing at your swollen pussy.

His belt jingles as he rips at the buckle, tearing at the leather. Your cunt clenches. Dabi shoves his pants down his hips just enough to pull out his thick cock, the tip flushed and beaded with pre-cum. He hisses as he strokes himself, his fingers running over the piercings lining the underside of his dick.

Somewhere in the back of your mind you realize his fingertips are on fire as he grabs your waist and forces you to bend over, giving him a nice view of your ass and your sloppy cunt. His grip on your hip is bruising, his burning fingers digging into your side harshly, branding you with more small burns. You flinch away from the heat, but Dabi only grabs you harder, holding you in place.

You whimper as he rubs his cock against your slit, rocking against you slowly just to torment you. The metal piercing through the head of his dick is hot enough to make your toes curl as it rubs against your sensitive clit, your nerves frayed from his earlier ministrations. The bricks beneath your hands scrape at your palms and scratch your cheek. Unwanted arousal further mixes with the sharp spikes of fear prickling at your skin, sending heat flooding your belly as slick drips down your inner thighs.

“Please,” you mewl as he reaches between your legs and lines his cock up with your entrance. Dabi easily knocks your legs apart when you try to squeeze them shut. “Please, stop, I can’t—” Your protests turn into a choked moan as he swipes a finger over your clit to shut you up, getting sick of your whining.

That’s all it takes to distract you, your naughty hips wiggling against him enticingly when he rubs with fast circles, his fingers heating up.

It’s amusing, Dabi thinks. How you keep pretending you don’t want this. How you keep telling him to stop when your body is begging for him. Little slut.

He buries himself inside of you with one hard thrust, splitting you open with his cock. You squeal, jerking, and buck against him, taking his cock even deeper as your walls stretch around him until it hurts. He’s so fucking big inside of you. Even his fingers weren’t enough to stretch you out. And the piercings lining the underside of his shaft rub your walls perfectly as he drags his cock back out until only the tip is left inside.

“Knew you wanted a fat cock inside of you,” Dabi sneers, laughing as you clench around him and moan. “Fucking cock slut.”

Dabi doesn’t let you breathe as he starts thrusting and grinding against your dripping cunt, fucking you roughly from behind. His hips slap against your ass with each hard thrust. His fingers dig into your waist. At some point, one of his hands palms your breast, slipping beneath your bra to pinch and pull at your nipple.

The filthy sound of your wet walls clinging to his thick cock fill the alley. Abruptly, you’re reminded that anyone could walk by and see you like this. Sobbing and moaning as you let a villain—a wanted criminal—fuck your soaked cunt. The thought makes you clench around him harder, your pussy sucking him in deeper.

And Dabi knows exactly what you’re thinking. “Fuck, your pussy feels good,” he tells you, grabbing either side of your waist so he can drag you back on his cock and fuck you harder, using you for his own pleasure. “You get off on this? Being fucked where anyone could see you?” He snorts. “Naughty girl.”

You shake your head weakly, and Dabi laughs at you again. More tears burn your eyes.

Dabi grins as you start rolling your hips back against his, finally taking his cock like a good girl. Your teary cries have softened into muffled moans and mewls, slutty little sounds that make his cock twitch. Every thrust makes his piercings rub against your walls. Your pussy won’t stop fluttering around him. Clenching and trying to take him deeper.

You’re dripping all over his cock and balls. Making a mess all over him with your sloppy pussy. He can’t help but dip one of his hands between your legs to run his fingers through your slick folds. He rubs your clit with his thumb until your hips start to twitch, then cruelly pulls away just to hear you whine and beg for him to touch you.

A slicked-up finger slips between your cheeks, and you squeak as Dabi’s thumb presses against your hole. The way you moan when the digit slips inside of you is needy and embarrassing. The knot in your stomach coils tighter as he stretches you out, playing with your ass as he fills you with his cock.

Your muscles clench around him. Dabi’s fingers dig into your ass cheek, spreading you apart so he can watch you take his cock, see his finger shoved inside of your other slutty hole. The sight makes his cock twitch inside you, and he groans.

Dabi’s thumb pops out of your hole. He slaps your ass hard enough to make you cry out. Fingertips dig into your skin, littering you with small burns that make you writhe underneath him. The air surrounding you is sweltering, leaving you sticky with sweat.

He grabs you by the neck, yanking you upright and pulling your back flush against his chest so he can whisper absolutely filthy things in your ear. You latch onto his wrist again, your head lolling back against his shoulder, back arched in a pretty curve. The new angle has his cock battering your sweet spot with every thrust, and your hips move with his, grinding back against him as his fingers constrict around your throat, choking you. Dabi shoves your torso against the wall, giving himself better leverage as he fucks you harder.

A hand dips between your legs again, this time to play with your clit, rolling and pinching it with his fingers. He’s going to make you cum one more time. Make you cum around his cock like the slut you are. Stubbornly, you try to squirm away from his rough touch, refusing to give in. Pissed, he slaps your cunt, making you squeal. Hot fingers roll over your clit, and this time you give in to the heat, letting it cloud your mind as you lose yourself to bliss.

Blue eyes glance at your parted lips, your mouth open as you pant, your eyes half-lidded and hazy. Dabi tightens his grip on your neck. Tilts your head back for a better angle. Spits in your mouth. Your eyes widen, but he squeezes your throat. “Swallow it,” he murmurs in your ear.

You do as you’re told, further humiliated. But you don’t have time to dwell on it as his cock pounds you and his fingers swirl over your clit just right.

Your mouth falls open as you clench around his cock, cumming hard, your orgasm tearing through you. It leaves you breathless. The only sound you make is a choked whimper, a mewl that almost sounds like his name, but it’s so muddled you can’t tell. Your legs tremble beneath you, Dabi’s chest and hands the only thing holding you up.

He fucks you through it, groaning again as your cunt spasms around him. Dabi drags your orgasm out until it hurts, your body sensitive and spent from everything he’s put you through.

With a resounding slap, he buries his cock inside of your pussy, cumming deep inside of you. The rush of warmth has your eyes fluttering shut, a sigh falling from your pretty mouth.

Thick, milky fluid drips down your thighs as he eases his cock out of you, tucking himself back into his pants. Cool air brushes against your wet cunt, and the uncomfortable feeling makes you shift. Dabi’s cum is sticky on your legs. Hot. And he slips a hand between your legs to shove it back into your pussy.

Your heart is still pounding in your chest when his grip starts to slacken. Dabi’s hand loosens around your throat, allowing you to breathe again. Heat sinks into your skin as he rubs his thumb against your hip, soothing a tender spot where his fingers dug into you a little too hard. There are burns there. Not bad enough to scar, but you’ll feel them later every time you move, his touch imprinted on your body, claiming you.

Possessiveness flairs in his chest, and he presses himself closer to your back, relishing the feeling of your body against his. Slowly, he moves his hand higher, slipping it under your ruined shirt. Two fingers tap against your waist, demanding attention like they did earlier, when he leaned in close while walking you home and told you to run. Indulging in a scene the two of you have only talked about before.

You looked at him with such wide eyes when he did, nervous and excited. It was the heat in his gaze that sent you running, pangs of arousal already getting you wet before he even caught you.

“Hey.”

Dabi sighs when you don’t react to the sound of his voice, your gaze far off as you stare at nothing, your breath slowly evening out. He adjusts his grip on your waist, squeezing you just a bit tighter to his chest. “Hey,” he tries again, jostling you with his shoulder. His fingers dig into your cheeks when he grabs your chin, gently turning your head towards him. The pad of his thumb brushes against your bottom lip, coaxing you back to him. The vacant look in your eyes slinks away when his gaze finds yours in the dark. And you sink into deep blue. “You with me, doll?”

The arm looped around your waist doesn’t lose its tension until you finally nod.

Slowly, you lean into the hand on your jaw, soothed by the heat and the rhythmic motion of his thumb stroking your cheek. Dabi lets you nuzzle into him, your eyes falling shut. His breath fans over the side of your face, and you subconsciously lean back against the warmth sinking into you from behind, seeking out his affection.

“Okay?” Dabi presses his lips to your temple, lingering as you sigh.

“You broke character,” you whisper as he eases you around in his arms. And you cling to him, hands fisted in the back of his jacket and your head tucked against the side of his neck.

He only shrugs. “Wanted to give you a chance to tell me to knock it off. Didn’t think you’d like me cutting you up like that.” His tone turns teasing. “But you took my cock so well, didn’t you, doll?” He runs his hands down your hips. “What a good girl. Next time I might fuck that cute ass, too.” Dabi grabs your cheeks and squeezes suddenly, and you squeal, giggling as he forces you up onto your toes. “Bet you’d like that.”

Dabi kisses from your neck to your collarbone, his lips finding the small cut he made. It’s stopped bleeding already, but there’s a ruby line trailing down your chest. You sigh as he focuses his attention there, being unusually soft with you.

You call out his name—his real name, but he shakes his head, pulling away to level you with a fond look, and you realize he needs this as much as you do. “Let’s get you home, doll.”

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

HASO, “A Ship Named Infinity.”

Hope you all enjoy your morning :)

Geea and Beatrice made their way from the underground bar as the music was still playing. Beatrice had one of her arms hooked through one Geea’s lower left, and together they sauntered slowly up through A136 and towards the docking area. Beatrice flipped a knife between her fingers as she did, “I don’t see why you are trusting this guy.” Beatrice grunted, “He could just as easily hail the Omen as soon as we got close and tell them that they have been hijacked.”

Geea shook her head, “No, he wouldn't, and i will make sure of that.” 

Beatrice looked up at her and she hummed rather smuggly, “If he tries anything, I release all of his criminal activities to the GA and UNSC. there is nothing that he can do about it, besides we are going to have our crew on his ship as well, and they should be able to keep him in line.

Beatrice nodded, though she didn’t seem entirely reassured.

Together the two of them made their way up through the winding passages, and clattering stairways until they eventually made it to the main docking bay. The room was filled with twenty or so docked shuttles, and looking around they found captain Kell sitting with some of his crew members outside a waiting shuttle.

The men and women that stood behind him were….. well , they were no joke.

They seemed fit and capable, though most of them sported some sort of metal attachments.

Captain Kell stood to greet them, and in this lighting the two of them were able to give him a more thorough once over.

The man was still wearing his long brown coat, and the black hood was still resting on his head though it didn’t shadow his face so much in this room. She saw strands of tawny hair peeping out from under the front of his hood. As she had seen before, one side of his face was covered by mechanical components, primarily the right eye, the cheek and down onto the lower jaw. His remaining good eye was a muddyish brown.

Walking up to stand before him it was clear that the man was tall, over six feet to be certain and well muscled, which Geea couldn’t help but find odd in a pirate. Sure pirates did some hard work, but mostly they followed the motto of work smarter not harder, and their life of heavy drinking didn’t exactly lend to people with bodies like his.

Under his jacket he wore a white shirt and a chin around his neck with some sort of arrowhead attached to the end.

His boots were high and tall, making her wonder if he was trying to make himself look taller than he really was. 

She could still see the glittering metal of his right hand as he moved to greet them.

The men behind him eyed them suspiciously. One was shorter and darker than the captain but just as well muscled. He was wearing heavy cargo pants, though his chest was mostly bare except for some sort of bandelier he carried over one shoulder, though it was his honey gold eyes that made it very clear he had no issue with  beating them up and stealing their lunch money.

The woman just off to his right was short and bald with extremely pale skin and bluish eyes, but she had the look of someone who you didn’t fuck with no princaple.

Geea noticed Beatrice eyeing her and tried to ignore it. B was always trying to make her jealous, and she didn’t want to give her that sort of satisfaction.

Captain Kell stepped forward, “Ladies.” He nodded before turning to wave a hand at his two bodyguards, “This here is Angelo.” He said pointing first at the man and then at the woman, “And that is Mace.” The two didn’t even nod their heads in acknowledgement, but looked on at hem in suspicion and distrust.

That was the way of the pirate though.

There was a sharp thudding, and out from behind the shuttle came a tall hulking figure at nearly nine feet tall.

The large Drev wiped grease from his hands as he stepped into place beside his three human companions. His carapace was a muddy black color with a red undertone. Geea raised her head in mild disdain for his coloring, though he didn’t seem to care what she thought.

“And this is our associate Noble.”

The Drev crossed two of his arms over his chest as he looked them over.

“The shuttle ready?” the captain asked.

The Drev nodded, “Yes, the components are clear to fly. That shake was from our right underwing stabilizer, though it was just a little loose.”

“Good.”

He motioned the two of them to follow him into the rusty little shuttle, and they strapped into the seats behind the pilot’s chair buckling in across from Angelo, Mace and Noble, all who eyed them with more than a measure of mistrust and suspicion. The captain for his part, seemed the most pleasant and sociable out of the groop, though he took his seat in the captain’s chair and called in to be let into atmosphere .

The group of them felt it as the struts gifted off the ground, and they hovered slowly over to one of the landing tubes leading up to the surface of the planet.

The doors to the docking bay opened revealing a long, water stained tunnel before them.

“Thirty minutes until the next fire wall comes, so you should be safe.”

He acknowledged the radio, and slowly began to lift them up through the long dark tunnel.

As they approached the top, the heavy steel door that kept them safe from the elements of the A1 death plant opened up. 

There was a heavy mist outside causing condensation to appear on their front windscreen as they rose into the night. In the distance, the sun was just beginning to rise, and from here thre group of them could see the fast approaching firewall on the horizon.

The ground below them was still wet, but that would change soon as rising temperatures caused the water to burn off into steam and return to the atmosphere to start the cycle again.

However, they didn’t stay long enough to watch the spectacle, and Captain piloted them easily upward through the cloud cover.

Geea had to admit that the man was a handy pilot. That was the steadiest flight she had ever had from the surface.

Either that or he just got lucky.

When he exited the atmosphere, he hurriedly made contact with the bridge of his ship. They approached slowly, and she could see the small ship with its sharp lines and black painted hull, better to blend into the background of space. It wasn’t a large ship by any means but it was still a good enough size that she expected it to have at least a class B warp drive.

They docked some minutes later, and the soundless environment around them was suddenly sucked away as a rush of air flooded the airlock. Red lights highlighted their faces as the Captain began powering down the ship. The others unbuckled their seatbelts  and the back ramp opened up for them.

The captain followed last from the ship, stepping onto the deck as the airlock doors opened into the docking and cargo bay.

It was…. Almost exactly how she expected it to be.

The ship was small enough that most of the rooms doubled for something, and men and women lounged around the small cargo space just as they might on her own ship. A few of them were tying down tarps over piles of unknown goods, while others were taking manifest from inside open crates with the UNSC seal stamped on them.

She was surprised to see that, thinking that the man was too much of a coward to pirate goods from the UNSC itself, but it seemed that she was mostly wrong.

The captain spread his hands wide and turned to look at them, “Welcome to the Infinity.”

Men and women in the cargo bay sat up and turned to look at the newcomers, and immediately Geea could see that the crew was a diverse one with Tesraki Celzex Drev, and even the odd Burg, though this  one was one of those strangle Male burg with the gossamer wings.

He turned to look at the crew, “And crew say hello to our new employers for the next month or so.”

The room shifted rather uncomfortably.

“Since when did we do mercenary work?” Someone shouted from the crowd.

The captain grunted under his breath, “They made me offer I couldn’t refuse.” Then he straightened up, “Either way play nice, and don’t get into fights or I WILL shoot you out the airlock. We should be expecting more of their crew boarding soon, so make room, and get to know each other.”

He walked past the group of them without another word, and marched off towards the font of the ship.

Geera and B followed after him their boots clattering on the floor underneath them.

“I am not instilled with a great amount of confidence that your men will behave.” Geea said 

The captain turned to look at her, and the appriture of his robotic eye narrowed, “Look lady, you are the one who came and threatened ME. If anyone here shouldn’t be trusted it is YOU.” He turned on his boot heel and marched up the next hallway, pushing through the doors and  onto the bridge, where he took his seat in the waiting captain’s chair.

The ship itself was a bit old and rickety, and the chair had a bit too much glowing neon on it for her liking, but when he ordered his men to get to work, they worked seamlessly as if they had done it thousands of times before.

Geea had to admit, grudgingly of course, that it was the most disciplined pirate ship she had ever seen. There was no arguing or backtallking or arguing or people trying to shirk their duties, the men and women here worked as if they were trained for it, like those fancy crews she had seen aboard some of the GA and UNSC ships.

This was probably why the captain came so highly recommended.

The Celzex on his shoulder hopped down from his position and into a small seat just off to the side of the captain’s chair. From over the top of his furry head, she could see that he was busy running diagnostics on the weapons systems.

That made her smile.

To think that they would have Celzex weapons on their side was rather thrilling. She, and no one else she knew had ever been able to acquire weapons from the fuzzy little creatures. They may have been willing to join pirating crews, but most of them were still loyal to some stupid and unknown code of honor that didn’t allow them to just spread their technology around, so they kept their mouths tight shut to the annoyance of everyone.

She wondered how this particular human had gained the trust of the Celzex enough to acquire their weapons. In fact, she had never seen a Celzex wit on a man’s shoulder like that, and doubted that was something the Celzex had been willing to do on their first meeting.

This human was becoming more and more interesting the more that she watched him.

He reached out with a gloved hand and flicked the switches on the console before him. He piloted this craft with the same ease in which he had piloted the shuttle.

The Com burst to life just then, “Infinity this is War preparing to dock.”

The captain turned to look at her over his chari, “You named your ship war?”

B snorted at the derision on his face, “She just likes being able to say ‘ This is war” whenever she goes to dock.”

Geea ground her teeth, and Captain kell rolled his eyes as he turned back to initiate the docking sequence, “Waar, this is infinity, please move to docking port A and standby for confirmation.”

He let go of the transmission and looked over at Geea skeptically, “You name your ship like an idiot.”

She didn’t like that much hands balling into fists though B traced a consoling hand over her back.

“Watch your mouth.” She growled, low in her throat.

The man did not seem at all worried by her denouncement of him, “Naming a ship is an art. You have to know her, to feel her. You have to walk around and fly in her to get a real understanding for what she means. It isn’t just about slapping a word on her. Just like you would name your son or your daughter you have to know what she iis about BEFORE you name her.”

Geea rolled her eyes at the sudden fervor in the man’s voice.

She honestly couldn’t give a shit what a ship was named as lng as it worked.

There was a sharp thudd through the hull as her ship docked, and she turned to go and greet her men down in the cargo bay leaving the Captain to contemplate his stupid philosophies on how to properly name a ship.

Making eye contact with him one last time, she couldn’t help but notice the strange fervor she saw in his eyes when he spoke about ships. This was a man, she thought, sho loved being in space.

She herself didn’t mind it so much, but when she looked out the window of a ship, all she saw were stars.

There was nothing particularly beautiful about it.

Together her and B walked into the cargo bay where her men were slowly filtering onto the ship

She only need around twenty of them, sure that that would be enough when paired with captain Kell’s crew.

They didn’t plan a big complex assault after all.

Hopefully, all of this would be done while most of the crew of the Omen were sleeping and they would be on and gone before the shit hit the fan.

Geea spent the next few hours helping her crew settling onto the ship warning them that if they caused any trouble she was going to hurt them. Of course they would listen to her, they were afraid of her and that is what a good leader needed to keep her men in check. Fear was generally the best way to control people she found, and while they didn’t like being ordered around, they would rather do what she said then suffer the consequences.

From there she went to find Captain kell again , and found hm in some sort of meeting room just off the bridge perusing a star map with some of his men and women from the bridge .

“UNSC channels indicate their last known location to be in this area.” A woman was saying zooming in on a cluster of stars as he did, “Now It seems to me that in this area.” she motioned with a wide circle, “We can send out scanning probes to look for his ship. It shouldn’t take too long and the probes aren't likely to catch the attention of a ship that big. I would suggest using a distress beacon to lure them into the nearby nebulae and then use that as a distraction to dock quietly.. Now the Omen is so large that it actually works to our advantage. It has multiple cargo bays and multiple docking bays, all of which have their own set of airlocks.”

There was a sharp blip in the image as the woman pulled up a schematic of the ship.

She heard B mummer in surprise from behind her.

“How did you get that.”

Captain Kell turned to look at her, and the woman crossed her arms seeming rather annoyed to have been interrupted.

Captain kell motioned to the schematic, “What, you think we only deal in goods.” he shook his head slowly, “No no, schematics and information are easy enough to get your hands on if you know where to look.” He nodded towards the hologram, “I bought these schematics off a guy at the Europa station a few years after it was launched. The guy was drunk, but he had been an engineer that worked on it before it was deployed.”

He turned back to the woman, “You were saying?”

She huffed and continued, “Well, from the information I have been able to gather, the primary cargo bays are here and here below the ship, they would be easy enough to bring a small ship up and usie the hacking equipment to open their airlock without being noticed and send a small team inside.”

She turned to look at Geea, “We only need a small team to do what you are suggesting.”

She glanced back at the map, “The only problem with this plan is that the safest place to board is also the furthest location away from the Admiral’s quarters which would be on the top deck right here.” She jabbed a finger at the upper deck, so we are going to have to plan this and our rout up if we want to avoid being spotted.”

Geea nodded, “The maintenance tunnels should be our best bet.’

Captain Kell tapped his chin, “Both yes and no I think. There will be less security there, sure, but the people most likely to be up are those in engineering, and they would spend most of their time in the maintenance tunnels.”

There was a nod of agreement from the others.

“Better to deal with a few nerdy engineers than highly trained marines patrolling the halls.” Geea said 

Captain kell nodded slowly and behind him Angelo snorted rather derisively as if the idea of a well-trained marine struck him as funny somehow.

Across  the table from him Mace was smirking right along with him.

Geea didn’t like those two, there was something about them that made her want to punch them in the face, but she kept her cool and continued to listen to the plan as the group gathered around each other .

She was mostly surprised at what she saw. The crew of this ship was well functional, worked well together, were relatively professional, followed their captain and even seemed to admire him. It was something she had never seen on a pirate ship before. The way they worked together was almost militaristic, but she supposed that is why they had survived so long and gotten so good at what they did.

She frowned as she thought about it wondering why her crew didn’t behave this way. Her crew tended to be lazy slackers most of the time, only working when they wanted to which was hardly ever

But these people did their jobs as if…. Well as if they actually liked them and respected their captain.

See eyed Captain Kell doubtfully. 

They must have been REALLY afraid of him to follow him like this.

She wondered what he did yo people who disobeyed him

[wren-ravenheart]

You Tried So Loud To Love Me

@witcher-rarepair-summer-bingo

Prompt: Hanahaki Disease Relationships:  Jaskier/Valdo Marx Rating: T Content Warnings: Minor blood Summary: Jaskier absolutely could not stand Valdo Marx for even a second. He was pretentious, too pretty for his own good, and had a terrible habit of writing sonnets and songs about the color of Jaskier's eyes and the swoop of his hair that he was absolutely certain were some sort of masterfully crafted insult to his person and reputation.

Tucked under a cut again for Length, though this one is over just over 2k words.

Cross-posted to Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31171259

~

There were exactly three things in life that Jaskier was absolutely certain of. Things that he could continue to count on even when the rest of his life was attempting to fall to pieces around him.

That Belleteyn is the best holiday.

That Toussaint is Hot and Pretentious.

And that Valdo Marx is an asshole.

Even when his pockets were empty, his lute strings snapped, or he suddenly found himself caught up in a mild court scandal that he assuredly had no part in, he could always rely on those few things. It was easy to keep moving forward when one was propelled by Pettiness and Lust. Even if he could never give an exact answer as to why he hated Valdo so much when pressed. Really now, you wouldn’t ask why the grass was green or the sun warm, so why would anyone ask Jaskier why he couldn’t stand that fluffy little upstart?

It was assuredly not because the rival bard did indeed stand two inches taller than him and was criminally handsome. Nor was it because he had a perpetual perfect smile on his face that refused to budge even when Jaskier threw his best insults at him. And it most assuredly was not because the thrice-damned bastard had written not one but Two Sonnets entirely about Jaskier’s eyes and hair and he absolutely could read the undertones of mocking that clearly lay within. No, it was clearly none of those things that irked Jaskier to his very core.

What kept his petty hate-fueled animosity going was the absolutely nonsensical crush he had on the bastard. A crush he had worked hard to snuff out with wine, women, and a few other bards who weren’t nearly as annoying as Valdo. A crush that clearly had not gone away with time. A crush that was currently trying to hurtle it’s slimy little self all the way into actual, ugh… Love.

Which made it even more frustrating than usual that Valdo was suddenly not his normal bubbly self, greeting Jaskier warmly and loudly as he strode into their mutually favorite tavern in the middle of Oxenfurt. He looked tired, and quiet, and barely glanced at Jaskier before shifting his gaze back into the pint of ale in front of him. Not wine? By Melitele, what was wrong with him?

“Well, well, look who the alley cat dragged in. Ale will go straight to your gut, Valdo. I’ll steal back the title of prettiest bard before you know it.” He sniped as he leaned against the table’s edge and smiled with too many teeth.

Valdo cut his eyes up and then back down. “Good day, Jaskier.”

The smile dropped from Jaskier’s face and he narrowed his eyes. “Good day? That’s it? Valdo, are you ill? I did take the title back already, didn’t I? That must be it! I’ve never seen you like this. Ah, it must be such a burn to know you’ve finally been bested by a true bard and exposed for the talentless hack that you are.” As he spoke, he gestured grandly with his hands. Valdo only winced once at the mention of being ill and firmly kept his gaze on his mug.

“Everyone already knew you’re the attractive one between us, Jaskier. No need to rub it in.”

Jaskier ceased his obnoxious flailing and took an actual seat at the table with him. He crossed his arms on the table in front of him and leaned in, lowering his voice to avoid being overheard. “Okay now you’re actually worrying me. I was expecting snide sonnets on my unruly mop and ‘lustful gaze’. Jabs, put-downs...anything but this. You are actually sick, aren’t you?”

Valdo slammed back the rest of his ale and stood up abruptly. Jaskier’s mouth dropped open in shock as he was glared openly at by his once-rival turned unnatural crush. “Leave off, Jaskier. Go bother the brothel workers.” And with that final gritted out jab, he stomped out of the tavern.

Jaskier was still staring in shock at the empty spot before him when the barmaid strolled by.

“You’ll catch flies, you leave your mouth open like that, boy.”

He clicked his mouth shut and quickly made his own way out and back to his lodgings.

This just wouldn’t do. What was Valdo’s game? Was he finally making good on all of Jaskier’s assholish attempts to make them public nemeses? Maybe Valdo could read minds; realized the strange feelings the bard had begun to have towards him and decided he was thoroughly disgusted by him.

Jaskier let himself slink into the beginnings of a depression and decided he’d just have to try and shake that off and find out what was going on with his Fri… Rival.

He followed Valdo whenever he could, ambushing him after lectures and hunting him down in pubs. He startled him so fiercely one of these times that the other bard broke down into what sounded like a very painful coughing fit, enough that caused him to pull out a handkerchief to cough into until his lungs settled from the surprise. He found this odd, and then odder still when as he went to ask after his well-being, Valdo abruptly shoved the handkerchief away and growled at him. Growled! Like some angry dog! And left Jaskier once again staring after him as he stomped away, agog.

A month later, Jaskier’s persistence had turned into straight up concern. Valdo was less angry with his antics and instead seemed constantly tired. There were bags under his lovely brown eyes and his hair had turned greasy and less kempt. He consulted these odd symptoms with a friend studying medicine and she mentioned it sounded like some sort of wasting disease. Jaskier was only familiar with a few of them, but none of them sounded like a pleasant time.

So, while still firmly trying to convince his brain that Valdo was still an absolute Arse and absolutely did not deserve his time or affection, Jaskier made soup. Warm pot nestled in the crook of his arm, he marched up to Valdo’s residence and knocked firmly on the door. No one answered. He knocked again. Deep coughs followed by the sounds of mild choking came from within and Jaskier decided basic decorum was right out the window. He pried open the door and rushed inside, looking for the source of the distress.

And there was Valdo; laid out on a lounge chair looking even worse than usual and slowly lowering a cloth from his mouth. There were flecks of blood on his lips and it appeared as if he couldn’t draw a full breath. Jaskier plunked the soup pot right on the floor and went directly to Valdo’s side.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were so ill?” He asked softly, dropping all the pretense of being a rampant jerk.

Valdo just looked at him sadly, too tired to muster up his recent attempts at dismissal. “I did not want you to know, Jaskier. You’re like the sun. So warm and happy. I could not bring myself to have you worry so I pushed you away.”

Jaskier’s eyes went a little wide and he reached out to take Valdo’s hand. It was so cold in his own, and he could make out the fine bones in his fingers. A wasting disease indeed. He rubbed his thumb over the other’s knuckles and shook his head slightly in dismay.

“I’ve been a right arse to you for years. Look at us. Idiots to the bitter end.” He murmured wistfully. “Is… is there anything I can do to help? To ease anything at all? I, uh… I made you soup. I thought it might be… nice?”

Now it was Valdo’s turn to look surprised. He squeezed the hand in his and looked over at the pot on the floor. “You made me soup? You’ve never made me anything.”

“Okay yes. Fine. That is true. I’m a complete and total jerk. My feet should not be gracing your illustrious doorstep, my knees not fit for your carpet. I’m sorry, okay? You’re talented. So talented. I’m at a loss without your poetry to bounce my own works off of.”

At this confession, Valdo cracked a little smile. “Maybe there is hope for you and I after all, dear Jaskier… You see, I ha-” A painful coughing fit cut him off abruptly, the force of it causing Valdo to nearly curl in on himself, clutching the cloth to his mouth as his body attempted to forcefully remove whatever was clearly killing him. Jaskier kept his hand firmly in Valdo’s as he tried to rub the other’s back in comfort. The touch seemed to help in some small way, and the hacking died off. Valdo slumped backwards panting, the hand with the cloth falling into his lap.

There, amidst the spattering of blood, lay small bright yellow flowers. Jaskier gasped loudly and shook his head.

“No, it’s a myth. It’s not real.”

Valdo attempted to clear his throat as he bunched the cloth with the flowers up and tried to hide it from view. “You of.. Of all people… .should know the… power of a story… where they come from...the truths hidden in the tales….We’re storytellers.. It’s.. poetic in it’s own way…”

“It’s a tragedy born of the old stories, is what it is. Wasting away from unrequited love? It’s madness. No one actually dies of a broken heart.”

“I’m not heartbroken, Jaskier. I’m simply in love with someone who is my sun and sky… and who absolutely cannot stand me. It will make the most glorious tragedy. I have already begun to write it.” Valdo smiled brightly as he caught his breath better and shifted to sit more comfortably. He squeezed his hand once more before letting it drop. “With any luck, I will finish it before I can no longer write.”

Jaskier stared into the middle distance over Valdo’s shoulder, taking it all in. It all seemed too outlandish to be real. Things that happened in tragedies and stories never actually happened in real life. Soulmates weren’t real. Kisses didn’t break curses. And people didn’t suffocate slowly on flowers for being rejected. But as he slowly shifted his gaze back to the pale, but still softly smiling, face of the absolute nuisance that was Valdo Marx, at lot of things clicked into place for him.

He had never hidden pithy put-downs into his sonnets. He had never crafted masterful insults through his songs. He had honestly and truly sung from the heart and he had called him his Sun. Valdo had been unashamedly, unabashedly, in love with him from the start. He was coughing up small yellow flowers… Buttercups...and had slipped back into waxing poetic over it all. Lord, the fool was fully gone on him. And he had been nothing but the most righteous arse over it all, so very full of himself and sure that the other was somehow mocking him and jealous of his talent.

Turns out it was Jaskier himself who was the pompous wastrul and talentless hack. He shuffled forward on his knees until he was flush against the lounge. Valdo looked over at him and lifted an eyebrow in question. A beautiful eyebrow set in a beautiful face that Jaskier was tired of pretending he wasn’t also long gone on as well. What was it that the storybooks always said saved the day, woke the princess, broke the curse? Ah… yes…

Jaskier set both hands on the cushion of the lounge and angled himself just right to gently lean forward and press his lips right against Valdo’s own. The man below him went very very still. His lips were soft, but the lack of any response twisted something uncomfortable in his gut and he slowly broke the kiss and moved away, eyes cast downwards.

“I’m sorry, I-”

“Jaskier, what-?”

They spoke at once. Jaskier looked up and noticed color on Valdo’s cheeks, his mouth slightly open and his eyes nearly comically wide in shock. He swallowed around a sudden lump in his throat.

“I’ve been a right arse to you, but I love you, Valdo Marx. And I do not wish to see you suffer a moment longer. It will kill me too.”

Valdo’s eyes fluttered shut and he let out a deep exhale. Jaskier panicked for a brief second, wondering if he had actually killed him, before he sucked in a very long and full breath and opened his eyes again. They shined with unshed tears and Jaskier had a moment to admire the sight and the warm feeling at finally giving in before he was being tackled to the ground in a crushing hug and warm tiny kisses were being pressed to whatever skin the other could find.

A laugh erupted from them, and Valdo’s kisses shifted from surprised, affectionate pecks, to soft and tender kisses meant to explore the other’s skin. Jaskier shifted slightly under him and set a hand to his chin, drawing him back to his own lips to continue the kissing. Valdo hummed happily and nearly melted into what he hoped was now his new Beau. The university community was going to have a field day with this.

Jaskier rolled them over and slowly moved his head away. Valdo attempted to chase after one more kiss, making him chuckle. “As much as I am enjoying making out on the floor like we’re back in year one… are you sure? Are you alright? You were coughing up most of your lung a minute ago.”

Valdo smiled up at him and reached up to run his fingers through Jaskier’s hair. “Yes, my love, I am quite well now. You’ve restored me and I suffer no longer. Now the story I write shall have a happy ending. A proper fairy tale after all.”

“Well, if you insist. Though I would be grateful to continue this discussion somewhere that is not the floor.”

Valdo’s laugh was bright and filled him with warmth as they both got to their feet and he began to tug Jaskier in the direction of a more private space. “Anything for the prettiest bard in Oxenfurt.”

And wasn’t Jaskier pleasantly surprised when Valdo took it upon himself to demonstrate just how much better he now felt, repeatedly and with vigor. As it turned out, stories always had more truth to them than he had ever expected, for this cursed ailment was most assuredly soothed with a Kiss.

~End~

[animeyanderelover]

could you wrote prompt 17 with paku? im sorry ive just been stalking ur page 😭

Don’t feel sorry for this darling. I’m not angry with you.

Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, obsessiveness, manipulation, Pakunoda reading the reader’s mind, mentions of kidnapping

Prompt 17: “You’ve been such a good girl lately. If you continue to behave so well I might just reward you. Would you like that?”

What had you gotten yourself into? How had this even happened? When had your lovely girlfriend became a criminal and part of the famous Phantom Troupe? As it appears she had been part of the troupe since a long time. How had you even found that out? Let’s just say...you managed to appear at the wrong time at the wrong place and had witnessed Paku talking to some rather shady looking persons. A girl with pink hair who looked like she hadn’t smiled very often in her life and a man who had looked creepy as fuck if someone ignored the fact how tiny he was. You had been too far away to hear what they had been saying, but you knew that it hadn’t been anything good and had tried to sneak away when the man suddenly appeared right in front of you, giving you nearly a heart attack. Just from looking at him you had known that the gap between your and his strength was enormous. He had looked at you with a look in his eyes that had scared the living shit out of you and had asked you with his hoarse and broken voice who you were and what you were doing here. You hadn’t been able to answer him, paralyzed with fear. He had asked you once again and had told you if you wouldn’t answer him he would kill you. That had been the last straw for you and you had fallen unconscious right then and there, expecting to never wake up again.

But you had woken up again. In a room with which you were very familiar. It was Pakunoda’s bedroom. She had been sitting right next to you, waiting for you to wake up again. As soon as you had sat up she had been quick to hug you and telling you that she had been worried when exactly you would wake up, but you had interrupted her and demanded from her to know who the hell these people had been. Paku had tried to tell you something about that they were old friends from her. You would have believed her if it wouldn’t have been for the fact that the small guy had threatened to kill you and had meant it so you hadn’t believed her. You weren’t the smartest one, but you weren’t dumb either and it had been obvious to you that these people had been some sort of criminals so why had Pakunoda be with them? Was she involved? You bombarded her with these kind of questions, not giving her time to lie even more to you. You had felt betrayed. But she still had insisted that these people weren’t bad and that you had just misunderstood something. That’s when you had snapped and had angrily told her that you didn’t plan on staying with a liar so you just stood up and had left her house, yelling that if you really meant something to her that she wouldn’t lie to you so boldly.

And you had gotten answers to your questions because the very same day she had kidnapped you and had told you the truth. Now you wished you would have just accepted her lies back then. You had felt nothing, but terror when she had told you that she was a member of the Phantom Troupe and that the two guys you had seen her with recently were members as well. Hearing that you had nearly been killed by a troupe member had sent you into pure anxiety and you had suddenly realized in what a situation you had gotten yourself into. You had asked her shaking what would happen to you now that you knew who she really was. She had answered you honestly that she had talked with her boss about this and he had told her that as long as she would make sure that you wouldn’t tell anyone he wouldn’t see you as a threat. When you had asked her what would happen if you would tell someone she hadn’t answered you and had just told you that you shouldn’t think about that, but her undertone had told you exactly what would await you if you would tell anyone. Death.

After that day Pakunoda hadn’t let you out of the house again, wanting to ensure that you wouldn’t get the chance to tell anyone about her or the troupe. When we’re already talking about the troupe, she had introduced you to them after some time, wanting you to meet her friends. This day must have been the most terrifying and interesting day in your life because who gets the chance to see all of the Phantom Troupe members without being killed immediately. Probably only a few. You had clinged to Paku for dear life during this time, not willing to leave her side, especially when you had seen the guy again who had wanted to kill you, Feitan. But you did meet some guys who were more pleasant to be with and if you could choose you would say that your “favs” were Uvogin, Nobunaga, Shizuku and Kortopi. And if you could choose the ones who were your least favorite then it would be without a doubt Feitan and it seemed like that feeling was mutual judging from the way he glared at you. But then again he seemed to always be not in a good mood and you doubted that he had ever laughed or smiled in his life.

You were conflicted about how to feel about Pakunoda now. You still loved her, but locking you up in her house was a bit much to take and you hadn’t even talked about her punishments yet. She had a lot of patience with you and you were sure if you would have been kidnapped by another troupe member you would have gotten in serious trouble for your behavior. But Pakunoda wasn’t them and so you were still healthy and good taken care of. But even the most patient person had a limit and you guess you had gotten a bit too comfortable with her. That had been a mistake because you had found out only after she had locked you up in your room and had taken everything you could have used to pass your time that she possessed the ability to read someone’s mind, meaning you were literally naked for her and had no way to hide your thoughts. You had tried to use her softness for you against her and had planned to escape her, but all she had needed was to swing an arm around your shoulder and ask you if you wouldn’t try anything. You had answered with a no and at first you had been confused when she had suddenly tensed up and looked at you with a disappointed and sad expression. Only after she had thrown you into the room she had told you about her ability and that’s when you had understood that you were doomed. There was no way for you to even think about a way to escape when all that was needed was a touch and a simple question for her to know what you were thinking. It was truly unfair. The worst was that you had been stuck in this goddamn room for at least two weeks and you hadn’t anything to use for some entertainment. No books, no TV, nothing! The only thing you could do was sleeping, wandering around the room or staring at the ceiling.

Currently you did the last one, staring at the ceiling and thinking about your life decisions, asking yourself what you could have done differently to not get into this situation. Your thoughts were interrupted when you heard the door lock being unlocked. You turned your attention towards the door when Pakunoda walked in for her daily checkup. She walked quietly to your bed, sitting down next to you. “How are you?” “Boring.”, you answered her straight away. She chuckled a bit before pulling your head against her chest. You knew what was coming now. “Do you plan anything special?” Here we go again with the questioning. “No Paku. I don’t plan anything.” You didn’t lie. What was the use anyways? Paku knew this as well because you could see a small smile on her face. “That’s good to know.” Your situation was really helpless because as soon as even the idea of a way to escape would come into your mind she would know. She didn’t let go of you and you just assumed that she wanted to spend a bit more time with her. Not like you didn’t like it, her breasts were...soft and comfortable to lay on.

“You’ve been such a good girl lately. If you continue to behave so well I might just reward you. Would you like that?” You tensed up when she said this. Was this a way to test you? Was this a trick? Since she was still in contact with you she read your thoughts and a sigh escaped her lips. “You still don’t trust me?”, she asked with a hint of disappointment in her voice. “You gave me some reasons to not trust you. By the way, you don’t trust me either. It seems like our relationship is lacking the most important thing that it’s supposed to base on. Trust.”, you replied, bitterness audible in your voice. “I really want to trust you, but you just make it a bit hard.”, Paku said. You looked up. “I trusted you once, but you broke that trust when kidnapping me and telling me that you’re a criminal who kills people. But I guess you have your reasons too that I can’t understand since I’m not you and don’t know what you went through in the past. So it’s not my right to judge you, but that doesn’t change the fact that I’m upset. And I upset you too so I guess we’re both guilty.” You meant those words and you could tell by the way she tensed up that she was surprised by this. “(y/n).” You hummed and gave her a confused look. “Yes?” “I meant it when I said that I want to reward you. Tell me what you want?”

Wait?! What?! Your thoughts started to race and you felt excited at the thought that you would have something to entertain you with. But what did you want? A book? A CD? A movie? Something to play with? “Only one thing.”, Paku reminded you when noticing your racing thoughts. You tried to calm your train of thoughts down to start thinking clearly. “A new CD?”, you asked her hesitantly. She nodded in approval. “Alright. A new CD.” You felt relief flowing through you. To be honest, if you would have spent a week longer in here without anything to do you were sure that you would have gone berserk at one point. A human can only hold on that long when they have nothing to do.Both of you spent a few minutes longer in this position, your head against her chest and her just holding you close. You were almost sad when she let go and made her way out again, but at least you would have very soon some music to listen to. “(y/n)?” You hummed confused and looked at her. Paku was standing in the door frame and her head turned around to look you directly into your eyes. “Is something wrong?”, you asked her irritated. “You said that our relationship is lacking trust.” “Yes?”, you answered her unsure.

“Do you think we’ll ever be able to build that trust up again?” This question caught you off guard. Your eyes widened surprised. Why was she asking this? And why wasn’t she just asking you whilst having some physical contact with you? Like this she could make sure that you wouldn’t lie to her. For a moment you played with the thought of giving her an answer that would please her and probably lead to you getting sooner out of this room. But then you realized that this was exactly why this relationship had never worked. It was right that she had lied to you, but were you any better when you tried to use her love for you to your advantage? No, you weren’t. So you decided to give her your honest opinion. “I’m not sure. Our situation is very...complicated at the moment. But I guess if both of us try to change that there might change something. But I’m not 100% convinced.” Paku didn’t say anything and you assumed that she was thinking about your answer. Before she closed and locked the door up again she said:”I appreciate your honesty.” You sat stunned there, staring at the door before you realized why she hadn’t tried to read your mind whilst asking this question. She had wanted to be able to trust you without needing to read your mind. That told you something else as well. She was ready to try to trust you again. The question right now was would you give it a try as well and try to work this out with her?